Three weeks passed before Gawaine regained his strength; but as soon as he was able to ride he armed again, mounted his horse, and rode to the gate of Benwick, where he loudly repeated his challenge to Lancelot as a traitor and recreant knight.
"You got the best of me by mischance at our last battle," he said, "but if you dare come into the field this day I will make amends, and lay you as low as you laid me."
"Defend me from such a fate," said Lancelot, "for if you should get me into such a strait my days were done. But since you in this unknightly fashion charge me with treason, I warrant you shall have both hands full before you gain your end."
Then Lancelot armed and rode out, and the battle began as before, with a circle of armed knights surrounding. But in this onset Gawaine's spear broke into a hundred pieces in his hand, while Lancelot struck him with such might that his horse's feet were raised, and horse and rider toppled to the earth.
"Alight, traitor knight!" cried Gawaine, drawing his sword. "If a horse has failed me, think not that a king and queen's son shall fail thee."
Then Lancelot sprang to the ground and the battle went on as before, Gawaine's strength increasing hour by hour. But Lancelot, feeling this, warily kept his strength and his wind, keeping under cover of his shield, and tracing and traversing back and forth, to break the strength and courage of his foe.
As for Gawaine, he put forth all his might and power to destroy Lancelot, and for three hours pressed him so fiercely that he could barely defend himself. But when noon passed, and Lancelot felt Gawaine's strength again decline, he said,—
"I have proved you twice, Sir Gawaine. By this magic trick of your strength increasing you have deceived many a valiant knight. You have done your worst; now you shall see of what metal I am made."
Then he attacked him fiercely, and Gawaine defended himself with all his power; but at length there fell such a heavy blow on his helmet and on the old wound, that he sank to the earth in a swoon. When he came to himself again, he struck feebly at Lancelot as he lay, and cried spitefully,—
"Thou false traitor, I am not yet slain. Come near me, and do this battle to the uttermost."