But the fight was
fiercer than before; so that being sore wounded, and the day exceeding
hot, they were after a season fain to pause for breath.
"Thou art the bravest knight I ever encountered," said Sir Tarquin, "and
I would crave thy country and thy name; for, by my troth and the honour
of my gods, I will give thee thy request on one condition, and release
thy brethren of the Round Table; for why should two knights of such pith
and prowess slay each other in one day?"
"And what is thy condition?" inquired Sir Lancelot.
"There liveth but one, either in Christendom or Heathenesse, unto whom I
may not grant this parley; for him have I sworn to kill," said Sir
Tarquin.
"'Tis well," replied the other; "but what name or cognisance hath he?"
"His name is Lancelot of the Lake!"
"Behold him!" was the reply; Sir Lancelot at the same time brandishing
his weapon with a shout of defiance.
When Sir Tarquin heard this he gnashed his teeth for very rage.
"Now one of us must die," said he. "Thou slewest my brother Sir Carados
at Shrewsbury, and I have sworn to avenge his defeat. Thou diest. Not
all the gods of thy fathers shall deliver thee.
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