Four Arthurian Romances
emerging from the hedged enclosure they came upon a drawbridge before a
high tower, which was all closed about with a wall and a broad and deep
moat. They quickly pass over the bridge, but had not gone far before the
lord of the place espied them from up in his tower. About this man I
can tell you the truth: that he was very small of stature, but very
courageous of heart. When he sees Erec cross the bridge, he comes down
quickly from his tower, and on a great sorrel steed of his he causes
a saddle to be placed, which showed portrayed a golden lion. Then he
orders to be brought his shield, his stiff, straight lance, a sharp
polished sword, his bright shining helmet, his gleaming hauberk, and
triple-woven greaves; for he has seen an armed knight pass before his
list against whom he wishes to strive in arms, or else this stranger
will strive against him until he shall confess defeat. His command
was quickly done: behold the horse now led forth; a squire brought him
around already bridled and with saddle on. Another fellow brings the
arms. The knight passed out through the gate, as quickly as possible,
all alone, without companion. Erec is riding along a hill-side, when
behold the knight comes tearing down over the top of the hill, mounted
upon a powerful steed which tore along at such a pace that he crushed
the stones beneath his hoofs finer than a millstone grinds the corn; and
bright gleaming sparks flew off in all directions, so that it seemed as
if his four feet were all ablaze with fire. Enide heard the noise and
commotion, and almost fell from her palfrey, helpless and in a faint.
There was no vein in her body in which the blood did not turn, and her
face became all pale and white as if she were a corpse. Great is her
despair and dismay, for she does not dare to address her lord, who often
threatens and chides at her and charges her to hold her peace. She is
distracted between two courses to pursue, whether to speak or to hold
her peace. She takes counsel with herself, and often she prepares to
speak, so that her tongue already moves, but the voice cannot issue
forth; for her teeth are clenched with fear, and thus shut up her speech
within. Thus she admonishes and reproaches herself, but she closes her
mouth and grits her teeth so that her speech cannot issue forth. At
strife with herself, she said: "I am sure and certain that I shall incur
a grievous loss, if here I lose my lord. Shall I tell him all, then,
openly? Not I. Why not? I would not dare, for thus I should enrage my
lord. And if my lord's ire is once aroused, he will leave me in this
wild place alone, wretched and forlorn. Then I shall be worse off than
now. Worse off? What care I? May grief and sorrow always be mine as long
as I live, if my lord does not promptly escape from here without being
delivered to a violent death. But if I do not quickly inform him, this
knight who is spurring hither will have killed him before he is aware;
for he seems of very evil intent. I think I have waited too long from
fear of his vigorous prohibition. But I will no longer hesitate because
of his restraint. I see plainly that my lord is so deep in thought that
he forgets himself; so it is fight that I should address him." She
spoke to him. He threatens her, but has no desire to do her harm, for he
realises and knows full well that she loves him above all else, and
he loves her, too, to the utmost. He rides toward the knight, who
challenges him to battle, and they meet at the foot of the hill, where
they attack and defy each other. Both smite each other with their
iron-tipped lances with all their strength. The shields that hang about
their necks are not worth two coats of bark: the leather tears, and they
split the wood, and they shatter the meshes of the hauberks. Both are
pierced to the vitals by the lances, and the horses fall to earth. Now,
both the warriors were doughty. Grievously, but not mortally, wounded,
they quickly got upon their feet and grasped afresh their lances, which
were not broken nor the worse for wear. But they cast them away on the
ground, and drawing their swords from the scabbard, they attack each
other with great fury. Each wounds and injures the other, for there
is no mercy on either side. They deal such blows upon the helmets
that gleaming sparks fly out when their swords recoil. They split and
splinter the shields; they batter and crush the hauberks. In four places
the swords are brought down to the bare flesh, so that they are greatly
weakened and exhausted. And if both their swords had lasted long without
breaking, they would never have retreated, nor would the battle have
come to an end before one of them perforce had died. Enide, who was
watching them, was almost beside herself with grief. Whoever could
have seen her then, as she showed her great woe by wringing her hands,
tearing her hair and shedding tears, could have seen a loyal lady. And
any man would have been a vulgar wretch who saw and did not pity her.
And the knights still fight, knocking the jewels from the helmets and
dealing at each other fearful blows. From the third to the ninth hour
the battle continued so fierce that no one could in any wise make out
which was to have the better of it. Erec exerts himself and strives; he
brought his sword down upon his enemy's helmet, cleaving it to the inner
lining of mail and making him stagger; but he stood firmly and did not
fall. Then he attacked Erec in turn, and dealt him such a blow upon the
covering of his shield that his strong and precious sword broke when he
tried to pull it out. When he saw that his sword was broken, in a spite
he threw as far away as he could the part that remained in his hand. Now
he was afraid and must needs draw back; for any knight that lacks his
sword cannot do much execution in battle or assault. Erec pursues
him until he begs him, for God's sake, not to kill him. "Mercy, noble
knight," he cries, "be not so cruel and harsh toward me. Now that I am
left without my sword, you have the strength and the power to take my
life or make me your prisoner, for I have no means of defence." Erec
replies: "When thou thus dost petition me I fain would hear thee admit
outright whether thou art defeated and overcome. Thou shalt not again be
touched by me if thou dost surrender at my discretion." The knight was
slow to make reply. So, when Erec saw him hesitate, in order to further
dismay him, he again attacked him, rushing at him with drawn sword;
whereupon, thoroughly terrified, he cried: "Mercy, sire! Regard me as
your captive, since it cannot be otherwise." Erec answers: "More than
that is necessary. You shall not get off so easily as that. Tell me your
station and your name, and I in turn will tell you mine." "Sire," says
he, "you are right. I am king of this country. My liegemen are Irishmen,
and there is none who does not have to pay me rent. [129] My name
is Guivret the Little. I am very rich and powerful; for there is no
landholder whose lands touch mine in any direction who ever transgresses
my command and who does not do my pleasure. I have no neighbour who does
not fear me, however proud and bold he may be. But I greatly desire to
be your confidant and friend from this time on." Erec replies: "I, too,
can boast that I am a noble man. My name is Erec, son of King Lac. My
father is king of Farther Wales, and has many a rich city, fine hall,
and strong town; no king or emperor has more than he, save only King
Arthur. Him, of course, I except; for with him none can compare."
Guivret is greatly astonished at this, and says: "Sire, a great marvel
is this I hear. I was never so glad of anything as of your acquaintance.
You may put full trust in me! And should it please you to abide in my
country within my estates, I shall have you treated with great honour.
So long as you care to remain here, you shall be recognised as my lord.
We both have need of a physician, and I have a castle of mine near here,
not eight leagues away, nor even seven. I wish to take you thither with
me, and there we shall have our wounds tended." Erec replies: "I thank
you for what I have heard you say. However, I will not go, thank you.
But only so much I request of you, that if I should be in need, and
you should hear that I had need of aid, you would not then forget me."
"Sire" says he, "I promise you that never, so long as I am alive, shall
you have need of my help but that I shall go at once to aid you with all
the assistance I can command." "I have nothing more to ask of you," says
Erec; "you have promised me much. You are now my lord and friend, if
your deed is as good as your word." Then each kisses and embraces the
other. Never was there such an affectionate parting after such a fierce
battle; for from very affection and generosity each one cut off long,
wide strips from the bottom of his shirt and bound up the other's
wounds. When they had thus bandaged each other, they commended each
other to God.
(Vv. 3931-4280.) So thus they parted. Guivret takes his way back alone,
while Erec resumed his road, in dire need of plaster wherewith to heal
his wounds. He did not cease to travel until he came to a plain beside a
lofty forest all full of stags, hinds, deer, does, and other beasts,
and all sorts of game. Now King Arthur and the Queen and the best of his
barons had come there that very day. The King wished to spend three or
four days in the forest for pleasure and sport, and had commanded tents,
pavilions, and canopies to be brought. My lord Gawain had stepped into
the King's tent, all tired out by a long ride. In front of the tent a
white beech stood, and there he had left a shield of his, together with
his ashen lance. He left his steed, all saddled and bridled, fastened to
a branch by the rein. There the horse stood until Kay the seneschal came
by. [130] He came up quickly and, as if to beguile the time, took the
steed and mounted, without the interference of any one. He took the
lance and the shield, too, which were close by under the tree. Galloping
along on the steed, Kay rode along a valley until it came about by
chance that Erec met him. Now Erec recognised the seneschal, and he knew
the arms and the horse, but Kay did not recognise him, for he could not
be distinguished by his arms. So many blows of sword and lance had he
received upon his shield that all the painted design had disappeared
from it. And the lady, who did not wish to be seen or recognised by him,
shrewdly held her veil before her face, as if she were doing it because
of the sun's glare and the dust. Kay approached rapidly and straightway
seized Erec's rein, without so much as saluting him. Before he let him
move, he presumptuously asked him: "Knight," says he, "I wish to know
who you are and whence you come." "You must be mad to stop me thus,"
says Erec; "you shall not know that just now." And the other replies:
"Be not angry; I only ask it for your good. I can see and make out
clearly that you are wounded and hurt. If you will come along with me
you shall have a good lodging this night; I shall see that you are well
cared for, honoured and made comfortable: for you are in need of
rest. King Arthur and the Queen are close by here in a wood, lodged in
pavilions and tents. In all good faith, I advise you to come with me to
see the Queen and King, who will take much pleasure in you and will
show you great honour." Erec replies: "You say well; yet will I not
go thither for anything. You know not what my business is: I must yet
farther pursue my way. Now let me go; too long I stay. There is still
some daylight left." Kay makes answer: "You speak madness when you
decline to come. I trow you will repent of it. And however much it
may be against your will, you shall both go, as the priest goes to the