'Touch not the falcon!' cried Geraint, 'for here is a maiden who is fairer, and more noble, and more gentle, and who has a better claim to it than any.' The stranger knight looked keenly at Geraint, and in a haughty voice cried: 'I know not who thou art; but if thou art worthy to bear arms against me, come forward.' Geraint mounted his horse, and when he rode to the end of the meadow laughter rippled and rang from the people watching him. For he bore an old and rusty suit of armour that was of an ancient pattern, and the joints of which gaped here and there. And none knew who he was, for his shield was bare. But when, thundering together, the two knights had each broken several lances upon the shield of the other, the people eyed Sir Geraint with some regard. When it seemed that the proud knight was the better jouster, the earl and his people shouted, and Inewl and Enid had sad looks. 'Pity it is,' said Enid, 'that our young knight hath but that old gaping armour. For when they clash together, I feel the cruel point of the proud knight's spear as if it were in my heart.' 'Fear not, my dear,' said the old dame, her mother. 'I feel that him you have learned to love so soon is worthy a good maiden's love, and I think that his good knighthood will overcome the other's pride.' Then the old knight went to Geraint. 'O young chief!' he said, 'since all other lances break in thy strong young hand, take you this. It was the lance I had on the day when I received knighthood. It was made by the wizard smith who lives in the Hill of Ithel, and it hath never failed me.' Then Sir Geraint took the lance and thanked the old earl, and looked back to where stood Enid. And his heart leaped to see how proud and calm she stood, though her lips trembled as she smiled at him. With that the strength seemed to course like a mountain stream through all his body; and from the uttermost end of the meadow he pricked his horse and rushed towards the proud knight. His blow was so mighty, and the good lance so strong, that the shield of the proud knight was cleft in twain, and he was thrust far beyond his horse and fell crashing to the ground. Then Geraint leaped from his horse and drew his sword, and the other rising to his feet, they dashed together with the fury of wild bulls; and so battled long and sore until the sweat and blood obscured their sight. Once, when the proud knight had struck Sir Geraint a mighty blow, the young knight saw, as he fought, how the maid Enid stood with clasped hands and a pale face of terror, as if she feared for his life. With the sight of the maiden's dread and the memory of the insult done by the proud knight to Queen Gwenevere, Sir Geraint waxed both fiercer and stronger; and gathering all his might in one blow, he beat with his sword upon the crown of the knight's helm, and so fierce was it that the headpiece broke and the sword-blade cut to the bone. Straightway the knight fell down upon his knees and craved mercy.