Straightway Ralph came forth from the bushes with his drawn sword in his hand, and even therewith what with the two knights being both low upon the earth, what with the woman herself coming from out the shadow of the oak boughs, and turning her toward Ralph, he saw her clearly, and stood staring and amazed—­for lo! it was the Lady whom he had delivered at the want-ways.  His heart well nigh stood still with joy, yet was he shamefaced also:  for though now she was no longer clad in that scanty raiment, yet did he seem to see her body through that which covered it.  But now her attire was but simple; a green gown, thin and short, and thereover a cote-hardy of black cloth with orphreys of gold and colours:  but on her neck was a collar that seemed to him like to that which Dame Katherine had given him; and the long tresses of her hair, which he had erst seen floating loose about her, were wound as a garland around her head.  She looked with a flushed and joyous face on Ralph, and seemed as if she heeded nought the battle of the knights, but saw him only:  but he feared her, and his love for her and stood still, and durst not move forward to go to her.

Thus they abode for about the space of one minute:  and meanwhile the big man rose up on one knee and steadied him with his sword for a moment of time, and the blade was bloody from the point half way up to the hilt; but the black knight lay still and made no sign of life.  Then the Knight of the Sun rose up slowly and stood on his feet and faced the Lady and seemed not to see Ralph, for his back was towards him.  He came slowly toward the Lady, scowling, and his face white as chalk; then he spake to her coldly and sternly, stretching out his bloody sword before her.

“I have done thy bidding, and slain my very earthly friend of friends for thy sake.  Wherewith wilt thou reward me?”

Then once more Ralph heard the voice, which he remembered so sweet amidst peril and battle aforetime, as she said as coldly as the Knight:  “I bade thee not:  thine own heart bade thee to strive with him because thou deemedst that he loved me.  Be content! thou hast slain him who stood in thy way, as thou deemedst.  Thinkest thou that I rejoice at his slaying?  O no!  I grieve at it, for all that I had such good cause to hate him.”

He said:  “My own heart! my own heart!  Half of my heart biddeth me slay thee, who hast made me slay him.  What wilt thou give me?” She knit her brow and spake angrily:  “Leave to depart,” she said.  Then after a while, and in a kinder voice:  “And thus much of my love, that I pray thee not to sorrow for me, but to have a good heart, and live as a true knight should.”  He frowned:  “Wilt thou not go with me?” said he.  “Not uncompelled,” she said:  “if thou biddest me go with threats of hewing and mangling the body which thou sayest thou lovest, needs must I go then.  Yet scarce wilt thou do this.”

“I have a mind to try it,” said he; “If I set thee on thine horse and bound thine hands for thee, and linked thy feet together under the beast’s belly; belike thou wouldest come.  Shall I have slain my brother-in-arms for nought?”