But Gawaine had a gift that a holy man had given him, that every day in the year, from nine o'clock till noon, his strength should increase till it became threefold. And he took good care to fight all his battles during these hours, whereby he gained great honor.
None knew of this gift but King Arthur, and as Lancelot felt the strength of his antagonist constantly increasing, he wondered greatly, and began to fear that he would be overcome. It seemed to him that he had a fiend, and no earthly man, before him, and for three hours he traced and traversed, and covered himself with his shield, scarcely able to stand against the brunt of Gawaine's mighty blows. At this all men marvelled, for never before had they beheld Lancelot so sorely driven to defence.
But when the hour of noon had passed, the magic might of Gawaine suddenly left him, and he had now only his own strength. This Lancelot felt, and he drew himself up and pressed on his foe, saying,—
"You have had your day, Gawaine; now it is my turn. Defend yourself, for I have many a grievous buffet to repay."
Then he redoubled his strokes, and at length gave Gawaine such a blow on the helmet that he fell to the earth. Lancelot now withdrew a step.
"Why do you withdraw?" cried Gawaine, bitterly. "Turn, thou traitor, and slay me; for if I recover you shall fight with me again."
"It is not my way, Sir Gawaine, to strike a fallen knight. When you want to fight again you shall not find me lacking."
Then he turned and went with his knights into the city, while Gawaine was borne from the field to one of the king's pavilions, where leeches were brought to attend him.
"Alas!" said the king, "that ever this unhappy war began, for Sir Lancelot ever forbeareth me, and my kin also, and that is well seen in his sparing my nephew Gawaine this day."
Then Arthur fell sick from sorrow for the hurt of his nephew and regret for the war. The siege was kept up, but with little energy, and both sides rested from their toils.