They heard that he had undertaken
For to slay their Sultan.
They fell about him, everyone,
   To make that bold abide.
The child saw that he was fade,
The body that his bridle had:
Even over him he rode,
   In gate there beside.
He strove about him with his spear;
Many thurgh again he bear:
There was none that might him dare,
   Percevell, that tide.

Tide in town who will tell,
Folks under his feet fell;
The bold body Percevelle,
   He sped them to spill.
Him thought no spede at his spear:
Many thurgh again he bear,
Found folk in the here,
   Fighting to fill.
For that it was midnight
Till it was even at daylight,
Were they never so wild nor wight,
   He wrought at his will.
Thus he dealt with his brand,
There was none that might him stand
Half a dint of his hand
   That he stroke till.

Now he strikes for the nonys,
Made the Saracens' head-bones
Hop as does hail-stones
   About on the grass;
Thus he dealt them on raw
Till the day begun dawn:
He laid there lives full law,
   As many as there was.

Sir Perceval of Galles