So saying, he picked up one of the priceless casks, poured a drop of the balm in the palm of his hand and gently moistened his finger in the drop. Then he said:

‘By the faith I owe God, I’ll try it on this one, who fought best of all in yesterday’s
battle and wounded me the most – because he’s first to hand, not because I’m any fonder
of him!’

He didn’t dally: he came up to the knight and gently dabbed the potion on his lips. Up he jumped at once, feeling no ill! He saw Perceval standing there and took a step towards him. He was still holding his drawn sword. He dealt Perceval a blow that cut right through his helm and the hood of his bright hauberk and bit into his forehead, drawing blood.

‘Damn the eyes,’ cried Perceval, ‘of anyone who heals you ever again, or tries to heal you when you’re dead! What was I thinking of? As the proverb says: who seeks folly finds it! Men often do well-meaning deeds that lead to grief, as I’ve done here: if he’d asked me for mercy I’d gladly have helped him – but now I see he doesn’t care about my forgiveness: he’s repaid me wretchedly!’

Gerbert's Continuation of Perceval