Four Arthurian Romances
council, willy-nilly. To-night you will be badly served, if, unmindful
of my advice, you go there as strangers. Come now quickly, for I will
take you." At this word Erec's ire was roused. "Vassal," says he, "you
are mad to drag me thus after you by force. You have taken me quite off
my guard. I tell you you have committed an offence. For I thought to be
quite safe, and was not on my guard against you." Then he lays his hand
upon his sword and cries: "Hands off my bridle, vassal! Step aside. I
consider you proud and impudent. I shall strike you, be sure of that, if
you drag me longer after you. Leave me alone now." Then he lets him go,
and draws off across the field more than an acre's width; then turns
about and, as a man with evil intent, issues his challenge. Each
rushed at the other. But, because Kay was without armour, Erec acted
courteously and turned the point of his lance about and presented the
butt-end instead. Even so, he gave him such a blow high up on the broad
expanse of his shield that he caused it to wound him on the temple,
pinning his arm to his breast: all prone he throws him to the earth.
Then he went to catch the horse and hands him over by the bridle to
Enide. He was about to lead it away, when the wounded man with his
wonted flattery begs him to restore it courteously to him. With fair
words he flatters and wheedles him. "Vassal," says he, "so help me God,
that horse is not mine. Rather does it belong to that knight in whom
dwells the greatest prowess in the world, my lord Gawain the Bold. I
tell you so much on his behalf, in order that you may send it back to
him and thus win honour. So shall you be courteous and wise, and I shall
be your messenger." Erec makes answer: "Take the horse, vassal, and lead
it away. Since it belongs to my lord Gawain it is not meet that I should
appropriate it." Kay takes the horse, remounts, and coming to the royal
tent, tells the King the whole truth, keeping nothing back. And the King
summoned Gawain, saying: "Fair nephew Gawain, if ever you were true and
courteous, go quickly after him and ask him in winsome wise who he is
and what his business. And if you can influence him and bring him along
with you to us, take care not to fail to do so." Then Gawain mounts his
steed, two squires following after him. They soon made Erec out, but did
not recognise him. Gawain salutes him, and he Gawain: their greetings
were mutual. Then said my lord Gawain with his wonted openness: "Sire,"
says he, "King Arthur sends me along this way to encounter you. The
Queen and King send you their greeting, and beg you urgently to come and
spend some time with them (it may benefit you and cannot harm), as they
are close by." Erec replies: "I am greatly obliged to the King and Queen
and to you who are, it seems, both kind of heart and of gentle mien. I
am not in a vigorous state; rather do I bear wounds within my body: yet
will I not turn aside from my way to seek a lodging-place. So you need
not longer wait: I thank you, but you may be gone." Now Gawain was a man
of sense. He draws back and whispers in the ear of one of the squires,
bidding him go quickly and tell the King to take measures at once to
take down and lower his tents and come and set them up in the middle of
the road three or four leagues in advance of where they now are.
There the King must lodge to-night, if he wishes to meet and extend
hospitality to the best knight in truth whom he can ever hope to see;
but who will not go out of his way for a lodging at the bidding of any
one. The fellow went and gave his message. The King without delay causes
his tents to be taken down. Now they are lowered, the sumpters loaded,
and off they set. The King mounted Aubagu, and the Queen afterwards
mounted a white Norse palfrey. All this while, my lord Gawain did not
cease to detain Erec, until the latter said to him: "Yesterday I covered
more ground than I shall do to-day. Sire, you annoy me; let me go.
You have already disturbed a good part of my day." And my lord Gawain
answers him: "I should like to accompany you a little way, if you do not
object; for it is yet a long while until night. They spent so much time
in talking that all the tents were set up before them, and Erec sees
them, and perceives that his lodging is arranged for him. "Ah! Gawain,"
he says, "your shrewdness has outwitted me. By your great cunning you
have kept me here. Since it has turned out thus, I shall tell you my
name at once. Further concealment would be useless. I am Erec, who was
formerly your companion and friend." Gawain hears him and straightway
embraces him. He raised up his helmet and unlaced his mouthpiece.
Joyfully he clasps him in his embrace, while Erec embraces him in
turn. Then Gawain leaves him, saying, "Sire, this news will give great
pleasure to my lord; he and my lady will both be glad, and I must go
before to tell them of it. But first I must embrace and welcome and
speak comfortably to my lady Enide, your wife. My lady the Queen has a
great desire to see her. I heard her speak of her only yesterday." Then
he steps up to Enide and asks her how she is, if she is well and in good
case. She makes answer courteously: "Sire, I should have no cause for
grief, were I not in great distress for my lord; but as it is, I am in
dismay, for he has hardly a limb without a wound." Gawain replies: "This
grieves me much. It is perfectly evident from his face, which is all
pale and colourless. I could have wept myself when I saw him so pale
and wan, but my joy effaced my grief, for at sight of him I felt so glad
that I forgot all other pain. Now start and ride along slowly. I shall
ride ahead at top-speed to tell the Queen and the King that you are
following after me. I am sure that they will both be delighted when they
hear it." Then he goes, and comes to the King's tent. "Sire," he cries,
"now you and my lady must be glad, for here come Erec and his wife." The
King leaps to his feet with joy. "Upon my word!" he says, "right glad
I am. I could hear no news which could give me so much happiness." The
Queen and all the rest rejoice, and come out from the tents as fast as
they may. Even the King comes forth from his pavilion, and they met Erec
near at band. When Erec sees the King coming, he quickly dismounts,
and Enide too. The King embraces and meets them, and the Queen likewise
tenderly kisses and embraces them: there is no one that does not show
his joy. Right there, upon the spot, they took off Erec's armour; and
when they saw his wounds, their joy turned to sadness. The King draws a
deep sigh at the sight of them, and has a plaster brought which Morgan,
his sister, had made. This piaster, which Morgan had given to Arthur,
was of such sovereign virtue that no wound, whether on nerve or joint,
provided it were treated with the piaster once a day, could fail to be
completely cured and healed within a week. They brought to the King the
piaster which gave Erec great relief. When they had bathed, dried, and
bound up his wounds, the King leads him and Enide into his own royal
tent, saying that he intends, out of love for Erec, to tarry in the
forest a full fortnight, until he be completely restored to health.
For this Erec thanks the King, saying: "Fair sire, my wounds are not so
painful that I should desire to abandon my journey. No one could detain
me; to-morrow, without delay, I shall wish to get off in the morning, as
soon as I see the dawn." At this the King shook his head and said: "This
is a great mistake for you not to remain with us. I know that you are
far from well. Stay here, and you will do the right thing. It will be
a great pity and cause for grief if you die in this forest. Fair gentle
friend, stay here now until you are quite yourself again." Erec replies:
"Enough of this. I have undertaken this journey, and shall not tarry in
any wise." The King hears that he would by no means stay for prayer of
his; so he says no more about it, and commands the supper to be prepared
at once and the tables to be spread. The servants go to make their
preparations. It was a Saturday night; so they ate fish and fruit, pike
and perch, salmon and trout, and then pears both raw and cooked. [131]
Soon after supper they ordered the beds to be made ready. The King, who
held Erec dear, had him laid in a bed alone; for he did not wish that
any one should lie with him who might touch his wounds. That night he
was well lodged. In another bed close by lay Enide with the Queen under
a cover of ermine, and they all slept in great repose until the day
broke next morning.
(Vv. 4281-4307.) Next day, as soon as it is dawn. Erec arises, dresses,
commands his horses to be saddled, and orders his arms to be brought to
him. The valets run and bring them to him. Again the King and all the
knights urge him to remain; but entreaty is of no avail, for he will not
stay for anything. Then you might have seen them all weep and show such
grief as if they already saw him dead. He puts on his arms, and Enide
arises. All the knights are sore distressed, for they think they will
never see them more. They follow them out from the tents, and send for
their own horses, that they may escort and accompany them. Erec said to
them: "Be not angry! but you shall not accompany me a single step. I'll
thank you if you'll stay behind!" His horse was brought to him, and he
mounts without delay. Taking his shield and lance, he commends them all
to God, and they in turn wish Erec well. Then Enide mounts, and they
ride away.
(Vv. 4308-4380.) Entering a forest, they rode on without halting till
hour of prime. While they thus traversed the wood, they heard in the
distance the cry of a damsel in great distress. When Erec heard the cry,
he felt sure from the sound that it was the voice of one in trouble and
in need of help. Straightway calling Enide, he says: "Lady, there is
some maiden who goes through the wood calling aloud. I take it that she
is in need of aid and succour. I am going to hasten in that direction
and see what her trouble is. Do you dismount and await me here, while
I go yonder." "Gladly, sire," she says. Leaving her alone, he makes his
way until he found the damsel, who was going through the wood, lamenting
her lover whom two giants had taken and were leading away with very
cruel treatment. The maiden was rending her garments, and tearing her
hair and her tender crimson face. Erec sees her and, wondering greatly,
begs her to tell him why she cries and weeps so sore. The maiden cries
and sighs again, then sobbing, says: "Fair sire, it is no wonder if I
grieve, for I wish I were dead. I neither love nor prize my life, for my
lover has been led away prisoner by two wicked and cruel giants who are
his mortal enemies. God! what shall I do? Woe is me! deprived of the
best knight alive, the most noble and the most courteous. And now he
is in great peril of death. This very day, and without cause, they will
bring him to some vile death. Noble knight, for God's sake, I beg you to
succour my lover, if now you can lend him any aid. You will not have to
run far, for they must still be close by." "Damsel," says Erec, "I will
follow them, since you request it, and rest assured that I shall do all
within my power: either I shall be taken prisoner along with him, or
I shall restore him to you safe and sound. If the giants let him live
until I can find him, I intend to measure my strength with theirs."
"Noble knight," the maiden said, "I shall always be your servant if you
restore to me my lover. Now go in God's name, and make haste, I beseech
you." "Which way lies their path?" "This way, my lord. Here is the path
with the footprints." Then Erec started at a gallop, and told her to
await him there. The maid commends him to the Lord, and prays God very