It was a bright day when the lists were prepared for the contest; before the hour appointed drew nigh, all the population of the royal city poured towards the scene of the approaching combat. Some trusted to the known prowess of the Dacian knight; others sided with the pilgrim, speculated upon who he was, and wished him success for the sake of Tyrius.
“Haste thee, haste thee, sir pilgrim knight,” said the king’s daughter, “thy adversary even now stands in the lists, and exclaims: ‘False pilgrim! why tarriest thou?’”
Sir Guido hastened to put on his armor, and to gird his sword about him. At noon the king entered the lists, the combatants took oath to the justice of their quarrel, and prepared to engage. Long and arduous was the battle; Guido pressed upon his adversary so fiercely that he thirsted almost to death.
“Good pilgrim,” he said, “if thou wilt courteously permit me to quench my thirst this once, I will do the like to thee, shouldst thou require it of me.”
“I consent,” replied Guido.
His thirst thus quenched, Plebeus renewed the combat with redoubled animation. At length Guido also thirsted, and claimed of his adversary his promise.
“Go to, fool! you shall taste no water but by the strong hand,” replied the Dacian.
“By the strong hand then,” rejoined Guido, “be it so.”
With these words he made towards the water, guarding himself with his shield. As soon as he gained the edge of the pond he jumped in, drank freely of the water, and rushed out refreshed and reinvigorated against his treacherous foe. His prowess and his courage alike deserted the Dacian, and he turned and fled.
At that moment the king threw down his sceptre, and the combat closed for that day.