This said, he wrapped his mantle around his arm, and approached the door. As he did so the strong oaken portal trembled under their blows, for they had got a great form out of the hall, and were using it as a battering-ram. "Save your trouble, you crew of mischief," said Lancelot. "Think you that Lancelot du Lake needs to be come at like a rabbit in its hutch? I fear you not, and dread not to face an army of such hounds." "Come out, then, or let us into that chamber. It avails you nothing to strive against us all; but we will promise to spare your life till we have brought you to King Arthur." "Will you?" said Lancelot, "or do you think to slay me where I stand? I trust you not, liars." Then he unbarred the door and with his left hand held it open a little, so that but one man could enter at a time. As he did so, Colgrevance of Gore, who stood nearest, pressed forcibly through the opening, and struck a spiteful blow at Lancelot with his sword. This Lancelot parried, and returned so fierce a stroke with his own good blade, that he cut through the helmet and skull of the knight, and stretched him dead upon the floor. Then, with all his great strength, he dragged the bleeding corpse within the chamber, closed the door against the pressure of all who bore upon it, and replaced the bars. "So much for this daring fool," he cried. "Thank heaven, I have an armor now! I shall not be quite a sheep at the shambles." As he spoke he was hastily stripping the armor from the body of the dead knight. This done, he quickly arrayed himself in it, with the aid of the queen and her ladies. Meanwhile the assault on the door continued, and Mordred and Agravaine kept up their cry,-- "Traitor knight! come out of the queen's chamber!" "Hold your peace," cried Lancelot. "You shall not prison me here, I promise you that, and if you take my counsel, you will depart. I am ready to agree on my knighthood to appear to-morrow before the king, and answer there that I came not to the queen with any evil purpose; and this I stand ready to prove by word or deed." "Out on you, traitor!" cried Mordred. "Have you, we will, and slay you if we wish, for the king has given us the choice to save you or slay you." "Is that your last word, sirrahs? Then keep yourselves, for I am not of the breed that die easily." As he spoke, he flung down the bars and threw the door wide open. Then he strode proudly and mightily among them, sword in hand and clad in full armor, and at the first blow from his mighty hand stretched Agravaine dead upon the floor. Like a maddened lion that charges upon a herd of sheep, he now rushed upon them, striking fiercely to right and left, and felling men with every blow, till in a little while twelve more of his assailants lay cold in death, for there was not a man of them all could stand one blow from his powerful arm.