Thereupon, behold you the knights that come through the forest with
such a rushing as it seemed they would rend it all up by the roots.
Afterward, they enter into the manor and snatch great blazing
firebrands and fling them one at another. They enter into the house
battling together, and are keen to fall upon the knights, but they may
not. They hurl the firebrands at them from afar, but they are holding
their shields and their swords naked. Lancelot maketh semblant as
though he would leap towards them, and sore great cowardize it seemeth
him nor to go against them.
"Sir," saith the damsel, "Take heed that you go not forth of the
circle, for you will be in sore jeopardy of death, for well you see
what evil folk be these."
Lancelot was nor minded to hold himself back, but that he would go
toward them sword drawn, and they run upon him on all sides, but he
defendeth him stoutly and smiteth the burning firebrands so that he
maketh red-hot charcoal fly, and thrusteth his sword amidst their
faces. King Arthur and Messire Gawain leap up to help Lancelot and
smite upon these evil folk and cut them limb from limb, and they bellow
like fiends so that the whole forest resoundeth thereof. And when they
fell to the ground, they may no longer endure, but become fiends and
ashes, and their bodies and their horses become devils all black in the
shape of ravens that come forth of their bodies. They marvel right
sore what this may be, and say that such hostel is right grievous.