“Thou hast the advantage with that iron pot on thy head,” said the churchman; “but have at thee⁠—Down thou goest, an thou wert Goliath of Gath in his brazen helmet.”

The Friar bared his brawny arm up to the elbow, and putting his full strength to the blow, gave the Knight a buffet that might have felled an ox. But his adversary stood firm as a rock. A loud shout was uttered by all the yeomen around; for the Clerk’s cuff was proverbial amongst them, and there were few who, in jest or earnest, had not had the occasion to know its vigour.

“Now, Priest,” said the Knight, pulling off his gauntlet, “if I had vantage on my head, I will have none on my hand⁠—stand fast as a true man.”

“ Genam meam dedi vapulatori ⁠—I have given my cheek to the smiter,” said the Priest; “an thou canst stir me from the spot, fellow, I will freely bestow on thee the Jew’s ransom.”