On came the dragon, raising his haughty crest, shaking his scales, and hastening so joyously to the combat, that the knight inwardly quaked for fear.
And now began the first of three days' mortal strife.
The Red-cross Knight couched his spear, and ran fiercely at his foe. The spear did not wound, but it annoyed the dragon: he turned aside, and as he turned, swept both the horse and its rider to the ground. In a moment the knight had risen, and renewed the attack. Never before, although many a knight had fought with him, had the dragon felt such force in the arm of a foe, and yet the deadly thrusts glanced back from his well-armed breast, leaving him unhurt.
But the knight's persistent attacks roused the monster's rage. He spread his great wings, and lifting himself into the air, swooped down upon his foe, and seized both horse and man in his cruel claws. He carried them an arrow's shot, when their fierce struggles obliged him to let them fall; and the knight, putting the force of three men into a single blow, once more aimed his spear at the impenetrable scales. Again the blow glanced aside, but this time it glided close under the dragon's upraised wing, and there inflicted so sore a wound, that the monster, unaccustomed to pain, roared aloud with a noise like that of the ocean in a wintry storm.
The weapon stuck in the dragon's flesh, until he contrived to tear it out with his claws, whereupon black blood streamed forth from his wound, and flames of fire from his nostrils. In his rage, he flung his great tail about: it twisted round the horse's legs, and the steed in its effort to get free, only became the more entangled, and at length was forced to throw the knight. Quickly he arose, and laying hold of his powerful sword, struck the dragon a stroke that seemed as if it must prove fatal. But the hardened iron took little effect upon the still more hardened crest, although it fell with a force that made the dragon careful to avoid its blows.
The knight grew angry when he saw his strokes of no avail, and struck again with greater might, but the steel recoiled, leaving no mark where it had fallen.
Now the dragon was suffering from the wound under his wing, and impatient of the pain, tried again to rise into the air. But the injured wing impeded his effort, and full of rage and disappointment, he uttered a roar such as had never before been heard, and once more sent out flames of fire. These came right into the face of the knight, and making their way through his armour, burned him so sorely that he could hardly endure its weight. Faint and weary, burned, and sore with his wounds, worn out with heat and toil, and the very arms he bore, death seemed to him much easier than life. "But death will never come when needs require," and his despair well nigh cost him dear.
The dragon, seeing his discomfiture, turned upon him, and smiting him with his tail, felled him to the ground. Very near, then, was the knight to the death he coveted.
However, it so happened that, unknown to him, a well of rare virtue lay close by. Its waters could cure sicknesses, make the aged young, wash sinful crimes away, and even restore the dead to life. In the happy days before the accursed dragon had brought ruin to the land, it had been called the Well of Life; and though he had denied its sacred waters with innocent blood, it still retained many of its ancient virtues. Into this spring the knight fell.
And now the sun began to set, and Una, watching from her hill, saw her champion fall, and saw, too, that the monster swelled out his proud breast, and clapped his great wings as if in victory. Little knowing the boon that had befallen her knight, the maiden grew very sad at heart, thinking all was lost. No sleep was possible to her. With folded hands, on lowly knees, she spent the long anxious hours in earnest prayer.