The virtue of Our Lord and the dignity of the banner and the goodness
of the white mule and the holiness of the good hermits that made their
orisons to Our Lord so struck the knights that they lost all power over
themselves, but treason might not go forth of their hearts, wherefore
right heavy were they of their kinsmen that they had seen slain before
them. They bethought them that and if by mercy they might escape
thence, they would never end until they had slain Perceval. They come
to meet him and so cry him mercy passing sweetly in semblance, and say
that they will do his will for ever and ever, so only he will let them
depart safe and sound. Perceval looketh at the lion to know what he
shall do; he seeth that the lion thinketh them traitors and disloyal,
and that so they were destroyed and dead the King that was in the
castle would have lost his force; and that, so Perceval will run upon
them, the lion will help him slay them. Perceval telleth the knights
that never will he have mercy upon them, and forthwith runneth upon
them, sword drawn, and sorely it misliked him that they defended not
themselves, insomuch that he all but left to slay them for that no
defence found he in them. But the lion is so far from holding them in
the like disdain, that he runneth upon them and biteth and slayeth
them, and then casteth forth their limbs and bodies into the water.
Perceval alloweth that this is well and seemly, and pleaseth him much
of that he seeth the lion do, nor never before had he seen any beast
that he might love and prize so highly as this one.