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So the knight in black and yellow, because he was heavier, drave Martimor backward step by step till he came to the crown of the bridge, and there fell grovelling. At this the Lady Beauvivante shrieked and wailed, but the damsel Lirette cried loudly, "Up! Martimor, strike again!"
So when all three were mended firm and fast, being bound with iron, still the grimly river hurled over the dam, and the voice of Flumen muttered in the dark of winter nights, "Yet will I mar mar mar yet will I mar Mill and Maid." "Oho!" said Martimor, "this is a durable and dogged knave. Art thou feared of him Lirette?" "Not so," said she, "for thou art stronger.
"Longer might I like," said he, "but longer may I not stay, for I ride in a quest and seek great adventures to become a knight." So they bestowed the horse in the stable, and went into the Mill; and when the miller was come home they had such good cheer with eating of venison and pan-cakes, and drinking of hydromel, and singing of pleasant ballads, that Martimor clean forgot he was in a delay.
"I have not seen it," said he, "and now the flowers are all faded." "Perhaps in the month of May?" said she. "In that month I will come again," said he, "for by that time it may fortune that I shall achieve my quest, but now forth must I fare." So there was sad cheer in the Mill that day, and at night there came a fierce storm with howling wind and plumping rain, and Martimor slept ill.
There he saw three foul churls, whereof two strove with the miller, beating him with great clubs, while the third would master the Maid and drag her away to do her shame, but she fought shrewdly. Then Martimor rushed upon the churls, shouting for joy, and there was a great medley of breaking chairs and tables and cursing and smiting, and with his sword he gave horrible strokes.
When he came to the bridge all bedashed with blood, and the bodies of the knights headless, "Now, by my lady's name," said he, "here has been good fighting, and those three caitiffs are slain! By whose hand I wonder?" So he came into the Mill, and there he found Martimor recovered of his swoon, and had marvellous joy of him, when he heard how he had wrought.
So white it stood among the trees, and so merrily whirred the wheel as the water turned it, and so bright blossomed the flowers in the garden, that Martimor had joy of the sight, for it minded him of his own country. "But here is no adventure," thought he, and made to ride by. Even then came a young maid suddenly through the garden crying and wringing her hands.
So they ran through the garden to the river, and there the churl sprang into the water, and swept away raging and foaming. And as he went he shouted, "Yet will I put thee to the worse, and mar the Mill, and have the Maid!" Then Martimor cried, "Never while I live shalt thou mar the Mill or have the Maid, thou foul, black, misbegotten churl!"
Presently in the night came a mizzling rain, and far among the hills a cloud brake open, and the mill-pond flowed over and under, and the dam crumbled away, and the Mill shook, and the whole river ran roaring through the garden. Then was Martimor wonderly wroth, because the river had blotted out the Maid's flowers.
And now what sayest thou of ladies?" "May a knight have his free will and choice here also?" said he. "According to his fortune," said Lancelot, "and by the lady's favour, he may." "Well, then," said Sir Martimor, taking Lirette by the hand, "this Maid is to me liefer to have and to wield as my wife than any dame or princess that is christened."
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