Sir Percival looked with great amazement at the overthrow of Sir Launcelot. Then, crying out in a great voice, “Sir, what have you done? Defend yourself from me!” he drew his sword and rushed forward upon the bridge. And Sir Galahad, when he beheld Sir Percival approach in that manner, cast aside his spear and drew his sword likewise. So, when they met in the middle of the bridge, Sir Percival smote Sir Galahad a great buffet with his sword, which stroke Sir Galahad turned with his shield. Then Sir Galahad rose up in his stirrups and he launched a blow like a thunderbolt against Sir Percival. Sir Percival endeavored to turn that blow with his shield, but he could not turn it, for it smote through his shield and it smote through his helmet and it smote through the iron cap beneath the helmet, and, had the blade not turned in the hand of Sir Galahad, it would have slain Sir Percival. As it was, Sir Percival’s head swam beneath that blow and he swooned away, swaying from side to side in his saddle until he fell from his saddle and lay upon the bridge without life or motion, like one who was dead. But Sir Galahad did not stop to inquire who were those two knights whom he had overthrown, nor did he pause to inquire how badly he had hurt them; but regaining his spear and setting spurs to his horse he rode away from that place, leaving them lying upon the bridge. Anon Sir Launcelot aroused himself, and he beheld Sir Percival where he lay. Then Sir Launcelot arose and went to Sir Percival, and removed his helmet. And he cast water into the face of Sir Percival so that, in a little while, Sir Percival was aroused from his swoon. Then Sir Launcelot said, “I would God I knew who that knight was, for never have I felt such a blow as I just now received, nor have I ever been so shamed as I was shamed this day.” Said Sir Percival, “Wit ye not who that knight was?” and he said, “Meseems it was none other than your son, Sir Galahad.” Quoth Sir Launcelot, “At that I would take comfort were he my son, but not at anything else.” Then each knight mounted his horse, and so together they presently rode away from that place. But Sir Launcelot’s head hung down upon his breast, for the memory of that blow which had overthrown him, and for the shame thereof; for never had he been overthrown from his horse before this day in all of his life. And, somewhiles, he thought that he who had overthrown him was, maybe, Sir Galahad, and at that he took comfort, because Sir Galahad was his son. But otherwhiles he thought that it was not Sir Galahad, and then he was filled with shame because of his overthrow. [Sidenote: _Sir Launcelot and Sir Percival part company._]