The knights turned in rage, and laughed and sneered when they saw but one solitary knight in old and rusty armour.
'Ah, sir scarecrow!' cried one, leaping on his horse, 'I will spit thee for thy insolence.'
'Knock him down and truss him up with this starveling peasant,' cried another.
All now had mounted, and the first prepared to run at Sir Geraint, who backed his horse through the gateway into the open plain. Anon the first knight came, hurling himself angrily upon him. But deftly Sir Geraint struck the other's lance aside with his sword, and as the rider rushed past him, he rose in his stirrups, his blade flashed, and then sank in the neck of the felon knight, who swayed in his saddle and then crashed to the ground.
Then the second horseman attacked him furiously, being wroth at the death of his companion. But Sir Geraint couched his lance, and caught the other on the edge of his shield, and the spear passed through his body.
And by good hap also he slew the other two, one with his lance, the other with his sword on foot.
Enid, full of fear while the fight was raging, felt gladness and sorrow when she saw how nobly her husband had smitten these torturers with justice, and she said that of a truth she had been wrong, and that there was no sloth in his heart, no weakness in the strong arm of her lord.
Then Sir Geraint took off the armour from each of the four knights and piled them on their horses, and tied them together, and bade her drive them before her.
'And do thou go forward some way,' said he sternly, 'and say not one word to me unless I speak first unto thee.'
As he mounted his horse, the man that had been tortured came forward with his people and knelt before him, and kissed the mail-clad shoe in his stirrup, and in rude few words they thanked him tearfully, asking for his name, so that they could speak of him in their prayers.