When he and the knight caught sight of each other they made ready to joust, gripping
their shield-straps and lowering their sharp-headed lances; then they spurred into a
charge. They delivered awesome blows that went clean through their shining shields
and met their strong, resistant hauberks – but that was it: their lances couldn’t hold,
and shattered right down to their fists. They collided head on in a fearsome clash, their
fine, bold chargers likewise, with such equal force that all four together – knights and
steeds – crashed down stunned into the grass. They lay motionless for quite a while,
then clambered up; out came the furbished blades and together the two knights came
to test each other. They knew how to handle a sword, and dealt one another giddying
blows, dashing the hoops20 from their bright and shining helms and smashing their
shields from top to bottom. They hammered and battered – nothing half-hearted! – and
seized hold of each other and wrestled. The knight was the wearier of the two – he’d
already jousted heartily and exerted himself more than Gawain – and I’m sure he was
a good deal less accomplished. Yet Gawain couldn’t drive him back a single step; he
was nearly wild with rage, and dismayed to see that, for all his earlier jousting, the
knight seemed as keen and fresh as he’d been at the start. He looked back towards the
palace, and when he saw the great array of ladies he started to sweat with shame! He
attacked the knight with all his might, convinced he must be tiring. He assailed and
hewed and pressed and harried, and soon had him gasping for breath.

Gerbert's Continuation of Perceval