_How a yeoman desired him to get again an horse, and how Sir
Percivale’s hackney was slain, and how he gat an horse._
And anon the yeoman came pricking after as fast as ever he might, and
asked Sir Percivale if he saw any knight riding on his black steed? Yea
sir, forsooth, said he, why ask ye me that? Ah, sir, that steed he hath
taken from me with strength, wherefore my lord will slay me in what
place he findeth me. Well, said Sir Percivale, what wouldest thou that
I did? thou seest well that I am on foot, but and I had a good horse I
should bring him soon again. Sir, said the yeoman, take mine hackney
and do the best ye can, and I shall follow you on foot, to wit how that
ye shall speed. Then Sir Percivale alight upon that hackney, and rode
as fast as he might. And at the last he saw that knight. And then he
cried, Knight, turn again; and he turned, and set his spear against Sir
Percivale, and he smote the hackney in the midst of the breast, that he
fell down dead to the earth, and there he had a great fall, and the
other rode his way. And then Sir Percivale was wood wroth, and cried,
Abide, wicked knight, coward and false-hearted knight, turn again and
fight with me on foot. But he answered not, but past on his way. When
Sir Percivale saw he would not turn, he cast away his helm and sword,
and said, Now am I a very wretch, cursed, and most unhappy above all
other knights. So in this sorrow he abode all that day till it was
night, and then he was faint, and laid him down and slept till it was
midnight. And then he awaked, and saw afore him a woman which said unto
him right fiercely, Sir Percivale, what doest thou here? He answered
and said, I do neither good nor great ill. If thou wilt ensure me, said
she, that thou wilt fulfil my will when I summon thee, I shall lend
thee mine own horse, which shall bear thee whither thou wilt. Sir
Percivale was glad of her proffer, and ensured her to fulfil all her
desire.—Then abide me here, and I shall go fetch you an horse. And so
she came soon again, and brought an horse with her that was inly black.
When Sir Percivale beheld that horse, he marvelled that it was so great
and so well apparelled: and not for then he was so hardy, and he lept
upon him, and took none heed of himself. And so anon as he was upon him
he thrust to him with his spurs, and so rode by a forest, and the moon
shone clear. And within an hour and less, he bare him four days’
journey thence, till he came to a rough water the which roared, and his
horse would have borne him into it.