Four Arthurian Romances
want to tell you that five knights have emerged from yonder thicket, of
whom I am in mortal fear. Having noticed them, I am of the opinion that
they intend to fight with you. Four of them have stayed behind, and the
other comes toward you as fast as his steed can carry him. I am afraid
every moment lest he will strike you. 'Tis true, the four have stayed
behind; but still they are not far away, and will quickly aid him,
if need arise." Erec replies: "You had an evil thought, when you
transgressed my command--a thing which I had forbidden you. And yet I
knew all the time that you did not hold me in esteem. Your service has
been ill employed; for it has not awakened my gratitude, but rather
kindled the more my ire. I have told you that once, and I say it again.
This once again I will pardon you; but another time restrain yourself,
and do not again turn around to watch me: for in doing so you would
be very foolish. I do not relish your words." Then he spurs across the
field toward his adversary, and they come together. Each seeks out and
assails the other. Erec strikes him with such force that his shield
flies from his neck, and thus he breaks his collar-bone. His stirrups
break, and he falls without the strength to rise again, for he was badly
bruised and wounded. One of the others then appeared, and they attack
each other fiercely. Without difficulty Erec thrusts the sharp and well
forged steel into his neck beneath the chin, severing thus the bones
and nerves. At the back of his neck the blade protrudes, and the hot red
blood flows down on both sides from the wound. He yields his spirit, and
his heart is still. The third sallies forth from his hiding-place on
the other side of a ford. Straight through the water, on he comes. Erec
spurs forward and meets him before he came out of the water, striking
him so hard that he beats down flat both rider and horse. The steed lay
upon the body long enough to drown him in the stream, and then struggled
until with difficulty he got upon his feet. Thus he conquered three of
them, when the other two thought it wise to quit the conflict and not to
strive with him. In flight they follow the stream, and Erec after them
in hot pursuit, until he strikes one upon the spine so hard that he
throws him forward upon the saddle-bow. He put all his strength into the
blow, and breaks his lance upon his body, so that the fellow fell head
foremost. Erec makes him pay dearly for the lance which he has broken
on him, and drew his sword from the scabbard. The fellow unwisely
straightened up; for Erec gave him three such strokes that he slaked his
sword's thirst in his blood. He severs the shoulder from his body, so
that it fell down on the ground. Then, with sword drawn, he attacked the
other, as he sought to escape without company or escort. When he sees
Erec pursuing him, he is so afraid that he knows not what to do: he does
not dare to face him, and cannot turn aside; he has to leave his horse,
for he has no more trust in him. He throws away his shield and lance,
and slips from his horse to earth. When he saw him on his feet, Erec
no longer cared to pursue him, but he stooped over for the lance, not
wishing to leave that, because of his own which had been broken. He
carries off his lance and goes away, not leaving the horses behind: he
catches all five of them and leads them off. Enide had hard work to
lead them all; for he hands over all five of them to her with the other
three, and commands her to go along smartly, and to keep from addressing
him in order that no evil or harm may come to her. So not a word does
she reply, but rather keeps silence; and thus they go, leading with them
all the eight horses.
(Vv. 3086-3208.) They rode till nightfall without coming to any town or
shelter. When night came on, they took refuge beneath a tree in an open
field. Erec bids his lady sleep, and he will watch. She replies that she
will not, for it is not right, and she does not wish to do so. It is
for him to sleep who is more weary. Well pleased at this, Erec accedes.
Beneath his head he placed his shield, and the lady took her cloak, and
stretched it over him from head to foot. Thus, he slept and she kept
watch, never dozing the whole night, but holding tight in her hand by
the bridle the horses until the morning broke; and much she blamed and
reproached herself for the words which she had uttered, and said that
she acted badly, and was not half so ill-treated as she deserved to be.
"Alas," said she, "in what an evil hour have I witnessed my pride and
presumption! I might have known without doubt that there was no knight
better than, or so good as, my lord. I knew it well enough before, but
now I know it better. For I have seen with my own eyes how he has not
quailed before three or even five armed men. A plague for ever upon
my tongue for having uttered such pride and insult as now compel me
to suffer shame!" All night long she thus lamented until the morning
dawned. Erec rises early, and again they take the road, she in front and
he behind. At noon a squire met them in a little valley, accompanied
by two fellows who were carrying cakes and wine and some rich autumn
cheeses to those who were mowing the hay in the meadows belonging to
Count Galoain. The squire was a clever fellow, and when he saw Erec and
Enide, who were coming from the direction of the woods, he perceived
that they must have spent the night in the forest and had had nothing to
eat or drink; for within a radius of a day's journey there was no town,
city or tower, no strong place or abbey, hospice or place of refuge. So
he formed an honest purpose and turned his steps toward them, saluting
them politely and saving: "Sire, I presume that you have had a hard
experience last night. I am sure you have had no sleep and have spent
the night in these woods. I offer you some of this white cake, if it
please you to partake of it. I say it not in hope of reward: for I ask
and demand nothing of you. The cakes are made of good wheat; I have good
wine and rich cheeses, too, a white cloth and fine jugs. If you feel
like taking lunch, you need not seek any farther. Beneath these white
beeches, here on the greensward, you might lay off your arms and rest
yourself a while. My advice is that you dismount." Erec got down from
his horse and said: "Fair gentle friend, I thank you kindly: I will eat
something, without going farther." The young man knew well what to do:
he helped the lady from her horse, and the boys who had come with the
squire held the steeds. Then they go and sit down in the shade. The
squire relieves Erec of his helmet, unlaces the mouth-piece from before
his face; then he spreads out the cloth before them on the thick tuff.
He passes them the cake and wine, and prepares and cuts a cheese. Hungry
as they were, they helped themselves, and gladly drank of the wine. The
squire serves them and omits no attention. When they had eaten and drunk
their fill, Erec was courteous and generous. "Friend," says he, "as a
reward, I wish to present you with one of my horses. Take the one you
like the best. And I pray it may be no hardship for you to return to the
town and make ready there a goodly lodging." And he replies that he
will gladly do whatever is his will. Then he goes up to the horses and,
untying them, chooses the dapple, and speaks his thanks; for this one
seems to be the best. Up he springs by the left stirrup, and leaving
them both there, he rode off to the town at top speed, where he engaged
suitable quarters. Now behold! he is back again: "Now mount, sire,
quickly," says he, "for you have a good fine lodging ready." Erec
mounted, and then his lady, and, as the town was hard by, they soon had
reached their lodging-place. There they were received with joy. The host
with kindness welcomed them, and with joy and gladness made generous
provision for their needs.
(Vv. 3209-3458.) When the squire had done for them all the honour that
he could do, he came and mounted his horse again, leading it off in
front of the Count's bower to the stable. The Count and three of his
vassals were leaning out of the bower, when the Count, seeing his squire
mounted on the dappled steed, asked him whose it was. And he replied
that it was his. The Count, greatly astonished, says: "How is that?
Where didst thou get him?" "A knight whom I esteem highly gave him to
me, sire," says he. "I have conducted him within this town, and he
is lodged at a burgher's house. He is a very courteous knight and the
handsomest man I ever saw. Even if I had given you my word and oath,
I could not half tell you how handsome he is." The Count replies: "I
suppose and presume that he is not more handsome than I am." "Upon my
word, sire," the sergeant says, "you are very handsome and a gentleman.
There is not a knight in this country, a native of this land, whom you
do not excel in favour. But I dare maintain concerning this one that
he is fairer than you, if he were not beaten black and blue beneath his
hauberk, and bruised. In the forest he has been fighting single-handed
with eight knights, and leads away their eight horses. And there comes
with him a lady so fair that never lady was half so fair as she." [128]
When the Count hears this news, the desire takes him to go and see if
this is true or false. "I never heard such a thing," says he; "take me
now to his lodging-place, for certainly I wish to know if thou dost lie
or speak the truth." He replies: "Right gladly, sire. This is the way
and the path to follow, for it is not far from here." "I am anxious to
see them," says the Count. Then he comes down, and the squire gets off
his horse, and makes the Count mount in his place. Then he ran ahead
to tell Erec that the Count was coming to visit him. Erec's lodging was
rich indeed--the kind to which he was accustomed. There were many tapers
and candles lighted all about. The Count came attended by only three
companions. Erec, who was of gracious manners, rose to meet him, and
exclaimed: "Welcome, sire!" And the Count returned his salutation. They
both sat down side by side upon a soft white couch, where they chat with
each other. The Count makes him an offer and urges him to consent to
accept from him a guarantee for the payment of his expenses in the
town. But Erec does not deign to accept, saying he is well supplied with
money, and has no need to accept aught from him. They speak long of many
things, but the Count constantly glances about in the other direction,
where he caught sight of the lady. Because of her manifest beauty, he
fixed all his thought on her. He looked at her as much as he could;
he coveted her, and she pleased him so that her beauty filled him with
love. Very craftily he asked Erec for permission to speak with her.
"Sire," he says "I ask a favour of you, and may it not displease you. As
an act of courtesy and as a pleasure, I would fain sit by yonder lady's
side. With good intent I came to see you both, and you should see no
harm in that. I wish to present to the lady my service in all respects.
Know well that for love of you I would do whatever may please her." Erec
was not in the least jealous and suspected no evil or treachery. "Sire,"
says he, "I have no objection. You may sit down and talk with her. Don't
think that I have any objection. I give you permission willingly." The
lady was seated about two spear-lengths away from him. And the Count
took his seat close beside her on a low stool. Prudent and courteous,
the lady turned toward him. "Alas," quoth he, "how grieved I am to see
you in such humble state! I am sorry and feel great distress. But if you
would believe my word, you could have honour and great advantage, and
much wealth would accrue to you. Such beauty as yours is entitled to