They didn’t stoop to striking the horses, but they didn’t spare each other’s body, raining ferocious blows. But truly, they fought for an age with little gain: their helms were smashed, rings were sent flying from their mailcoats; they almost did for one another as they struck each other in the face. But Perceval’s special gift was that the more he strove and the harder he fought, the more he gained strength and vigour; and now, recovering force and breath, he assailed the knight with such might and fury that he sent him tumbling over the back of his saddle. Then he wrapped his arm around his neck, tore his helmet from his head and started punching him in the face, breaking open skin and flesh. The knight was in agony – and powerless to save himself – and blood was pouring all over his face.

Gerbert's Continuation of Perceval