'Thou recreant and coward!' said Beaumains. 'Did not any of those knights that thou hast hung cry to thee for mercy? What pity and what mercy didst thou give them? And thou deservest none from me, nor from any man!' With that he slew him at a stroke, and the people in the castle cried out with joy. Their leader being dead, his following of earls, barons and knights came and did homage to Beaumains, and he commanded that instantly they should betake themselves to the court of King Arthur and yield them into his hands. Then for ten days the Lady Linet made Beaumains rest him in the Red Knight's tent, while she tended his many sore wounds. But ever Beaumains desired to go into the castle to see the lady he loved, but his hurts forbade him. On the eleventh day he would no longer be denied, but having armed himself, all except his helm, which his page carried, he rode up to the castle gate. But as he came thither he saw many armed men, who pulled up the drawbridge before him, so that he should not enter. Therewith he saw a knight at a window, who called to him. 'Fair sir, I am Sir Gringamor, brother to the Lady Lyones,' said the knight. 'I will that ye enter not yet. We know that you have proved yourself a bold and brave fighter, but we know not who you are. Therefore, unless you tell me your name and kindred, I may not suffer my sister to see you.' 'I know naught of thee, sir knight,' cried Beaumains sternly. 'My business is with the lady, from whom I think I deserve a little kindness, for I have bought her deliverance and her love with some of the best blood in my body. Must I go away then, thinking she cares more for a name and noble lineage than for brave deeds and devotion? Tell me, Sir Gringamor, is this the will of the Lady Lyones?' 'Ye have but to tell us thy name and of thy lineage, brave man,' said Sir Gringamor. 'Nay, that I will not!' said Beaumains, for his heart was hot with shame and anger. 'If I were but a churl, I should reckon myself a nobler man than the recreant knight from whom I have rescued you and your sister. But since he was a knight, it seems ye would reckon him as of greater honour than the brave churl that slew him for his evil deeds.' 'Nay, nay, it is not so!' came a sweet voice crying in tears, and Sir Beaumains saw the tender face of the Lady Lyones at the window where Sir Gringamor had been. 'My brave knight, think not ill of me, for this is none of my will, for I am mocked and my pleasure denied in my own castle by this my over-careful brother. I love thee, sir knight, whatsoever thou art, for I feel that thou art gentle and brave, and as good a man as any lady might love. And I beg you go not far from me, for I will have my will erelong, and I tell you now that I trust you, and I shall be true to you, and unto my death I shall love you and no other. And whenever I may come to you I will, in spite of this my brother.'