_How Sir Percivale met with Sir Ector, and how they fought long, and
each had almost slain other._
And now will we turn unto Sir Percivale that rode long, and in a forest
he met a knight with a broken shield and a broken helm, and as soon as
either saw other readily, they made them ready to just, and so hurtled
together with all the might of their horses, and met together so hard
that Sir Percivale was smitten to the earth. And then Sir Percivale
arose lightly and cast his shield on his shoulder and drew his sword,
and bad the other knight alight, and do we battle to the uttermost.
Will ye more? said that knight, and therewith he alight and put his
horse from him, and then they came together an easy pace, and there
they lashed together with noble swords, and sometime they stroke, and
sometime they foined, and either gave other many great wounds. Thus
they fought near half a day, and never rested but right little, and
there was none of them both that had less wounds than fifteen, and they
bled so much that it was marvel they stood on their feet. But this
knight that fought with Sir Percivale was a proved knight and a wise
fighting knight, and Sir Percivale was young and strong, not knowing in
fighting as the other was. Then Sir Percivale spake first, and said,
Sir knight, hold thy hand a while still, for we have foughten for a
simple matter and quarrel over long, and therefore I require thee tell
me thy name, for I was never or this time matched. Truly, said that
knight, and never or this time was there never knight that wounded me
so sore as thou hast done, and yet have I foughten in many battles; and
now shalt thou wit that I am a knight of the Table Round, and my name
is Sir Ector de Maris, brother unto the good knight Sir Launcelot du
Lake. Alas, said Sir Percivale, and my name is Sir Percivale de Galis,
that hath made my quest to seek Sir Launcelot; now I am siker that I
shall never finish my quest, for ye have slain me with your hands. It
is not so, said Sir Ector, for I am slain by your hands, and may not
live; therefore I require you, said Sir Ector unto Sir Percivale, ride
ye hereby to a priory, and bring me a priest that I may receive my
Saviour, for I may not live. And when ye come to the court of king
Arthur, tell not my brother Sir Launcelot how that ye slew me, for then
he would be your mortal enemy; but ye may say that I was slain in my
quest as I sought him. Alas, said Sir Percivale, ye say that thing that
never will be, for I am so faint for bleeding that I may scarcely
stand; how should I then take my horse?