Both now sprang to the attack, clutching and drawing their swords of steel and exchanging such fearsome blows that, whenever they found an opening, they drew blood and stained the grass: soon the ground was crimson. The Knight of the Dragon was taken aback when he failed to get the better of Perceval, but however much he battered his shield he couldn’t breach it. He was frothing with rage, so incensed that he charged to grab him with his bare hands; but Perceval, stout and strong in bone and sinew, pre-empted this and seized him in a mighty grip. They grappled and tore at each other – no one could tell who was coming off worse! – and neither would relent or yield an inch: so fierce and equal was the fight that neither could escape his foe – they were both so in awe of each other’s strength that when either had a hold of his enemy he wouldn’t let him out of his grasp. They both stood firm and upright, and dealt each other such ferocious blows that both of them were stunned.

The people of the castle watched it all, and some were prostrate on the ground, praying to the King of Glory to give strength and victory to their champion. The Maiden of the Circle of Gold was wringing her hands in dismay, and appealing to Holy Mary to beg Her dear son to protect the knight who’d joined battle for her:

‘For truly, my mind’s made up: if he’s killed in the fight I’ll throw myself from this tower!’ She was in utter turmoil.

The battling Perceval and the Dragon Knight struggled and strove and drove themselves on and struck with their fists and their swords alike till they hewed straps from their mail collars, slashed the laces from their helms and were finally so exhausted that they collapsed on the ground.

Gerbert's Continuation of Perceval