So Sir Ector armed himself and departed out of the castle to meet Sir Gawaine.
Then Sir Gawaine rode up to Sir Ector and he said to him, “Sir, what knight are you?” Quoth Sir Ector, “I am Sir Ector de Maris, the brother of Sir Launcelot of the Lake.” Said Sir Gawaine, “Why come you here?” And Sir Ector replied, “I come to do battle with you upon my brother’s behalf.” Then Sir Gawaine laughed and he said, “Sir, you are welcome. Rather would I have it that you were Sir Launcelot, but failing him I will accept you as his proxy. So make yourself ready to encounter me.”
Sir Gawaine overthroweth Sir Ector.
So each of those two knights rode to a certain distance and prepared himself for that encounter. And when they were in all ways prepared they charged very furiously against one another. In that meeting the spear of Sir Ector broke into many pieces, but the spear of Sir Gawaine held. And because he had the strength of ten men behind his spear, it penetrated the shield of Sir Ector and it penetrated his body, so that it stood a haeadth out behind his back.
Then Sir Ector fell from his horse and, in passing, the spear of Sir Gawaine was broken so that the baton of the spear of Sir Gawaine remained sticking in the body of Sir Ector; a part of it sticking out before, and a part of it sticking out behind.
Then Sir Gawaine rode back to where Sir Ector lay, and he said to him, “Sir, how fares it with you?” Quoth Sir Ector, “Alas, Messire! I have received my death-wound.” Then Sir Gawaine laughed very bitterly, and he said, “So shall it always be with traitors, such as thou.”
Then with that Sir Gawaine turned his horse and rode away from that place, leaving Sir Ector lying where he was.
Anon there came forth those from within the castle and they lifted up Sir Ector where he lay. And they laid him in the hollow of the shield and bare him into the castle. And all who saw Sir Ector in that condition wept to behold him so.
So they bore him to a chamber and laid him upon a soft couch and Sir Ector groaned very dolorously with the agony of his wound, and Sir Launcelot and several others stood before him, and ever as Sir Launcelot considered him, the tears welled out of his eyes and rolled like shining jewels down his cheeks.
So about the eleventh hour of the night Sir Ector said to Sir Launcelot, “Sir, this wound is my death-wound. I pray you to draw out the baton of that spear and let me pass.” Sir Launcelot said, “I cannot draw it forth.” Sir Ector said, “Is there no friend here who will draw forth this baton, and suffer me to die?”