Gwaine. With a merry good will.
Laun. Then lets to ’t.
Gwaine. (Takes a quarter staff, they fight hard and long.) Gwaine belabors Launcelot on the head, back and shoulders.
Laun. Ha, it raineth thoughts now. Come on Hell, come on.
Gwaine. Yea, am I coming, (Hits him harder.) If I beat that damned love out o’ him I will do him a good deed. How’s that and that?
Laun. And that, and that. (Both fight till exhausted.)
Gwaine. Launcelot, dost know thyself now?
Laun. Methinks I partly do, under a cloud.
Gwaine. And dost thou know me?