youth, quick to quarrel, and very bitter in speech. "The
Britons," cried he, "are known to all as a vainglorious people. They
threaten readily, and they boast and brag more readily still. We have
listened to their menaces, but we remember they are of those who boast
the more because they act the less." Quintilian, as I deem, would have
continued with yet other grievous words, but Gawain, who was hot with
anger, drew forth his sword, and springing forward, made the head fly
from his shoulders. He cried to his comrades that they should get to
their horses, and the earls won their way from the pavilion, Gawain
with them, and they with him. Each seized his steed by the bridle,
and climbed nimbly in the saddle. Then they rode forth from the camp,
shield on shoulder, and lance in hand, asking no leave of any.

The patricians within the pavilion sat silent for a space after that
bitter stroke. The emperor was the first to come from his amazement.
"Why sit you here?" cried Lucius; "follow after those men who have set
this shame upon us. Ill fall the day, if they come not to my hand!"
The bravest of his household ran from the tent crying for harness and
horses. From every side arose the shouting, "Swiftly, swiftly; bridle
and spur; gallop, gallop." The whole host was mightily moved together.
They set saddles on destriers, and led the steeds from the stable.
They girt their baldrics about them, and taking their lances, spurred
after the fugitives. The three barons pricked swiftly across the
plain. They looked this way and that; often glancing behind them to
mark how nearly they were followed. The Romans pursued them pell-mell;
some on the beaten road, and others upon the heavy fields. They came
by two, or three, or five, or six, in little clumps of spears. Now a
certain Roman rode in advance of his fellows, by reason of his good
horse, which was right speedy. He followed closely after the Britons,
calling loudly, "Lords, stay awhile. He knows himself guilty who flees
the pursuer." At his word Guerin of Chartres turned him about. He
set his buckler before him, and lowering the lance, hurtled upon his
adversary. Guerin rode but the one course. He smote the Roman so
fiercely, midmost the body, that he fell from his destrier, and died.
Guerin looked on the fallen man. He said, "A good horse is not always
great riches. Better for you had you lain coy in your chamber, than to
have come to so shameful an end." When Boso beheld this adven