The lances were strong so as that they brast not. They draw them back
to themselves so stoutly and come together so fiercely that their
horses stagger and they lose the stirrups. Lancelot catcheth Kay the
Seneschal at the passing beyond, in the midst of the breast, and
thrusteth his spear into him so far that the point remained in the
flesh, and Kay to-brast his own; and sore grieved was he when he felt
himself wounded. The knight that was wounded overthrew one of the two
knights. Kay is on the ground, and Lancelot taketh his horse and
setteth Messire Ywain li Aoutres thereupon, that was right sore wounded
so as that he scarce might bear it. Kay the Seneschal maketh his
knight remount, and holdeth his sword grasped in his fist as though he
had been stark wood. Lancelot seeth the two knights sore badly
wounded, and thinketh that and he stay longer they may remain on the
field. He maketh them go before him, and Kay the Seneschal followeth
them behind, himself the third knight, that is right wroth of the wound
he feeleth and the blood that he seeth. Lancelot bringeth off his
knights like as the wild-boar goeth among the dogs, and Kay dealeth him
great buffets of his sword when he may catch him, and Lancelot him
again, and so they depart, fencing in such sort.