And Sir Launcelot had much ado to defend himself so that he made no attack, but only a defence with sword and shield against the attack of Sir Gawaine. And Sir Launcelot thought that never in all of his life had he fought with so strong and so powerful a knight as Sir Gawaine--nay, not even when he fought with Sir Turquine that day at the ford before the castle of Sir Turquine. For anon the blood began to flow forth from him in spite of all his defence, so that in a little while the ground on which he fought was all sprinkled red with that blood, and his armor was all ensanguined with the crimson streams that bathed it. And in all that while Sir Gawaine had hardly any wounds at all, but he fought with all his strength and might, and with the purpose to beat down his assailant. But though Sir Gawaine fought in that wise, yet, by and by, it reached the prime of noon, and still he had not struck down Sir Launcelot. Then that strength of ten that he had with the medicine that he had taken began to fade and wane away as the flame of a candle flickers and wanes away when the wax is consumed. So anon Sir Launcelot felt that the attack of Sir Gawaine was no longer so furious and so violent as it had been, but that it was weaker. Therewith he redoubled his own battle with tenfold violence. And now he no longer made defence, but instead of defence he made attack. And he drave Sir Gawaine backward before him, for Sir Gawaine could not stand before the fierceness of that attack now that his strength was waning. [Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine faileth and is overthrown._] So Sir Gawaine bore back from before those blows, and by and by he began to hold his shield full low for weariness. Then Sir Launcelot perceived his opening, so he rushed the attack with double fury, and anon he swung his sword and smote Sir Gawaine with it full upon the head. And so violent was that blow that it clave asunder the helmet and the coif, and it wounded the head beneath the coif. Then Sir Gawaine sank down upon his knees, his hand relaxed and the sword that was in his hand fell out from it upon the ground. Then Sir Launcelot ran to Sir Gawaine and he set his foot upon the sword and he rushed off the helmet of Sir Gawaine and he cried out very fiercely, “Sir, yield yourself to me or I will slay you!” But Sir Gawaine said, “I will not yield me to thee, so thou mayst slay me at thy pleasure!” Then Sir Launcelot gazed at Sir Gawaine, and as he gazed at him the fury of battle passed away from his soul like a mist from before the face of the sun; and Sir Launcelot felt such great love for Sir Gawaine and such great pity for him that his eyes ran all with tears. [Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot spareth him his life._]