Four Arthurian Romances
and gets ready to put on his arms: first, he had laced on a pair of
greaves of polished steel; next, he dons a hauberk, which was so fine
that not a mesh could be cut away from it. This hauberk of his was rich,
indeed, for neither inside nor outside of it was there enough iron to
make a needle, nor could it gather any rust; for it was all made of
worked silver in tiny meshes triple-wove; and it was made with such
skill that I can assure you that no one who had put it on would have
been more uncomfortable or sore because of it, than if he had put on a
silk jacket over his undershirt. The knights and squires all began to
wonder why he was being armed; but no one dared to ask him why. When
they had put on his hauberk, a valet laces about his head a helmet
fluted with a band of gold, shining brighter than a mirror. Then he
takes the sword and girds it on, and orders them to bring him saddled
his bay steed of Gascony. Then he calls a valet to him, and says:
"Valet, go quickly, run to the chamber beside the tower where my wife
is, and tell her that she is keeping me waiting here too long. She has
spent too much time on her attire. Tell her to come and mount at once,
for I am awaiting her." And the fellow goes and finds her all ready,
weeping and making moan: and he straightway addressed her thus: "Lady,
why do you so delay? My lord is awaiting you outside yonder, already
fully armed. He would have mounted some time ago, had you been ready."
Enide wondered greatly what her lord's intention was; but she very
wisely showed herself with as cheerful a countenance as possible, when
she appeared before him. In the middle of the courtyard she found him,
and King Lac comes running out. Knights come running, too, striving with
each other to reach there first. There is neither young nor old but goes
to learn and ask if he will take any of them with him. So each offers
and presents himself. But he states definitely and affirms that he will
take no companion except his wife, asserting that he will go alone.
Then the King is in great distress. "Fair son," says he, "what dost thou
intend to do? Thou shouldst tell me thy business and keep nothing back.
Tell me whither thou will go; for thou art unwilling on any account
to be accompanied by an escort of squires or knights. If thou hast
undertaken to fight some knight in single combat, yet shouldst thou not
for that reason fail to take a part of thy knights with thee to betoken
thy wealth and lordship. A king's son ought not to fare alone. Fair son,
have thy sumpters loaded now, and take thirty or forty or more of thy
knights, and see that silver and gold is taken, and whatever a gentleman
needs." Finally Erec makes reply and tells him all in detail how he has
planned his journey. "Sire," says he, "it must be so. I shall take no
extra horse, nor have I any use for gold or silver, squire or sergeant;
nor do I ask for any company save that of my wife alone. But I pray you,
whatever may happen, should I die and she come back, to love her and
hold her dear for love of me and for my prayer, and give her so long as
she live, without contention or any strife, the half of your land to be
her own." Upon hearing his son's request, the King said: "Fair son, I
promise it. But I grieve much to see thee thus go off without escort,
and if I had my way, thou shouldst not thus depart." "Sire, it cannot
be otherwise. I go now, and to God commend you. But keep in mind my
companions, and give them horses and arms and all that knight may need."
The King cannot keep back the tears when he is parted from his son. The
people round about weep too; the ladies and knights shed tears and make
great moan for him. There is not one who does not mourn, and many a one
in the courtyard swoons. Weeping, they kiss and embrace him, and are
almost beside themselves with grief. I think they would not have been
more sad if they had seen him dead or wounded. Then Erec said to comfort
them: "My lords, why do you weep so sore? I am neither in prison nor
wounded. You gain nothing by this display of grief. If I go away, I
shall come again when it please God and when I can. To God I commend you
one and all; so now let me go; too long you keep me here. I am sorry and
grieved to see you weep." To God he commends them and they him.
(Vv. 2765-2924.) So they departed, leaving sorrow behind them. Erec
starts, and leads his wife he knows not whither, as chance dictates.
"Ride fast," he says, "and take good care not to be so rash as to speak
to me of anything you may see. Take care never to speak to me, unless I
address you first. Ride on now fast and with confidence." "Sire," says
she, "it shall be done." She rode ahead and held her peace. Neither one
nor the other spoke a word. But Enide's heart is very sad, and within
herself she thus laments, soft and low that he may not hear: "Alas," she
says, "God had raised and exalted me to such great joy; but now He
has suddenly cast me down. Fortune who had beckoned me has quickly now
withdrawn her hand. I should not mind that so much, alas, if only I
dared to address my lord. But I am mortified and distressed because my
lord has turned against me, I see it clearly, since he will not speak
to me. And I am not so bold as to dare to look at him." While she thus
laments, a knight who lived by robbery issued forth from the woods. He
had two companions with him, and all three were armed. They covet the
palfrey which Enide rides. "My lords, do you know the news I bring?"
says he to his two companions. "If we do not now make a haul, we are
good-for-nothing cowards and are playing in bad luck. Here comes a lady
wondrous fair, whether married or not I do not know, but she is very
richly dressed. The palfrey and saddle, with the breast-strap and reins,
are worth a thousand livres of Chartres. I will take the palfrey for
mine, and the rest of the booty you may have. I don't want any more for
my share. The knight shall not lead away the lady, so help me God. For I
intend to give him such a thrust as he will dearly pay. I it was who saw
him first, and so it is my right to go the first and offer battle."
They give him leave and he rides off, crouching well beneath his shield,
while the other two remain aloof. In those days it was the custom and
practice that in an attack two knights should not join against one;
thus if they too had assailed him, it would seem that they had acted
treacherously. Enide saw the robbers, and was seized with great fear.
"God," says she, "what can I say? Now my lord will be either killed
or made a prisoner; for there are three of them and he is alone. The
contest is not fair between one knight and three. That fellow will
strike him now at a disadvantage; for my lord is off his guard. God,
shall I be then such a craven as not to dare to raise my voice? Such a
coward I will not be: I will not fail to speak to him." On the spot
she turns about and calls to him: "Fair sire, of what are you thinking?
There come riding after you three knights who press you hard. I greatly
fear they will do you harm." "What?" says Erec, "what's that you say?
You have surely been very bold to disdain my command and prohibition.
This time you shall be pardoned; but if it should happen another time,
you would not be forgiven." Then turning his shield and lance, he rushes
at the knight. The latter sees him coming and challenges him. When Erec
hears him, he defies him. Both give spur and clash together, holding
their lances at full extent. But he missed Erec, while Erec used him
hard; for he knew well the right attack. He strikes him on the shield
so fiercely that he cracks it from top to bottom. Nor is his hauberk any
protection: Erec pierces and crushes it in the middle of his breast, and
thrusts a foot and a half of his lance into his body. When he drew back,
he pulled out the shaft. And the other fell to earth. He must needs die,
for the blade had drunk of his life's blood. Then one of the other two
rushes forward, leaving his companion behind, and spurs toward Erec,
threatening him. Erec firmly grasps his shield, and attacks him with
a stout heart. The other holds his shield before his breast. Then they
strike upon the emblazoned shields. The knight's lance flies into two
bits, while Erec drives a quarter of lance's length through the other's
breast. He will give him no more trouble. Erec unhorses him and leaves
him in a faint, while he spurs at an angle toward the third robber. When
the latter saw him coming on he began to make his escape. He was afraid,
and did not dare to face him; so he hastened to take refuge in the
woods. But his flight is of small avail, for Erec follows him close
and cries aloud: "Vassal, vassal, turn about now, and prepare to defend
yourself, so that I may not slay you in act of flight. It is useless
to try to escape." But the fellow has no desire to turn about, and
continues to flee with might and main. Following and overtaking him,
Erec hits him squarely on his painted shield, and throws him over on the
other side. To these three robbers he gives no further heed: one he has
killed, another wounded, and of the third he got rid by throwing him
to earth from his steed. He took the horses of all three and tied them
together by the bridles. In colour they were not alike: the first was
white as milk, the second black and not at all bad looking, while the
third was dappled all over. He came back to the road where Enide was
awaiting him. He bade her lead and drive the three horses in front of
her, warning her harshly never again to be so bold as to speak a single
word unless he give her leave. She makes answer: "I will never do so,
fair sire, if it be your will." Then they ride on, and she holds her
peace.
(Vv. 2925-3085.) They had not yet gone a league when before them in a
valley there came five other knights, with lances in rest, shields held
close in to the neck, and their shining helmets laced up tight; they,
too, were on plunder bent. All at once they saw the lady approach in
charge of the three horses, and Erec who followed after. As soon as they
saw them, they divided their equipment among themselves, just as if they
had already taken possession of it. Covetousness is a bad thing. But it
did not turn out as they expected; for vigorous defence was made. Much
that a fool plans is not executed, and many a man misses what he thinks
to obtain. So it befell them in this attack. One said that he would
take the maid or lose his life in the attempt; and another said that the
dappled steed shall be his, and that he will be satisfied with that. The
third said that he would take the black horse. "And the white one for
me," said the fourth. The fifth was not at all backward, and vowed that
he would have the horse and arms of the knight himself. He wished to win
them by himself, and would fain attack him first, if they would give him
leave: and they willingly gave consent. Then he leaves them and rides
ahead on a good and nimble steed. Erec saw him, but made pretence that
he did not yet notice him. When Enide saw them, her heart jumped with
fear and great dismay. "Alas!" said she, "I know not what to say or do;
for my lord severely threatens me, and says that he will punish me, if
I speak a word to him. But if my lord were dead now, there would be no
comfort for me. I should be killed and roughly treated. God! my lord
does not see them! Why, then, do I hesitate, crazed as I am? I am indeed
too chary of my words, when I have not already spoken to him. I know
well enough that those who are coming yonder are intent upon some wicked
deed. And God! how shall I speak to him? He will kill me. Well, let him
kill me! Yet I will not fail to speak to him." Then she softly calls
him: "Sire!" "What?" says he, "what do you want?" "Your pardon, sire. I