When he had ridden many days, he met with a yeoman whom he asked if there were any adventures in those parts.  “Sir,” said the man, “at the castle; hard by, they hold a great tournament.”  Sir Bors thanked him and rode along the way pointed out to him; and presently, as he passed a hermitage, whom should he see sitting at its door but his brother, Sir Lionel, whom he had believed dead.  Then in great joy, he leaped from his horse, and running to Lionel, cried:  “Fair brother, how came ye hither?” “Through no aid of yours,” said Sir Lionel angrily; “for ye left me bound and beaten, to ride to the rescue of a maiden.  Never was brother so dealt with by brother before.  Keep you from me as ye may!” When Sir Bors understood that his brother would slay him, he knelt before him entreating his pardon.  Sir Lionel took no heed, but mounting his horse and taking his lance, cried:  “Keep you from me, traitor!  Fight, or die!” And Sir Bors moved not; for to him it seemed a sin most horrible that brother should fight with brother.  Then Sir Lionel, in his rage, rode his horse at him, bore him to the ground and trampled him under the horse’s hoofs, till Bors lay beaten to the earth in a swoon.  Even so, Sir Lionel’s anger was not stayed; for, alighting, he drew his sword and would have smitten off his brother’s head, but that the holy hermit, hearing the noise of conflict, ran out of the hermitage and threw himself upon Sir Bors.  “Gentle knight,” he cried, “have mercy upon him and on thyself; for of the sin of slaying thy brother, thou couldst never be quit.”  “Sir Priest,” said Lionel, “if ye leave him not, I shall slay you too.”  “It were a lesser sin than to slay thy brother,” answered the hermit.  “So be it,” cried Lionel, and with one blow, struck off the hermit’s head.  Then he would have worked his evil will upon his brother too, but that, even as he was unlacing Sir Bors’ helm to cut off his head, there rode up the good knight Sir Colgrevance, a fellow of the Round Table.  When he saw the dead hermit and was aware how Lionel sought the life of Bors, he was amazed, and springing from his horse, ran to Lionel and dragged him back from his brother.  “Do ye think to hinder me?” said Sir Lionel.  “Let come who will, I will have his life.”  “Ye shall have to do with me first,” cried Colgrevance.  Therewith, they took their swords, and, setting their shields before them, rushed upon each other.  Now Sir Colgrevance was a good knight, but Sir Lionel was strong and his anger added to his strength.  So long they fought that Sir Bors had time to recover from his swoon, and raising himself with pain on his elbow, saw how the two fought for his life; and as it seemed, Sir Lionel would prevail, for Sir Colgrevance grew weak and weary.  Sir Bors tried to get to his feet, but, so weak he was, he could not stand; and Sir Colgrevance, seeing him stir, called on him to come to his aid, for he was in mortal peril for his sake.  But even as he called, Sir Lionel cut him to the ground and, as one possessed, rushed upon his brother to slay him.  Sir Bors entreated him for mercy, and when he would not, sorrowfully he took his sword, saying:  “Now, God forgive me, though I defend my life against my brother.”