Four Arthurian Romances
fervently that He should give him force by His command to discomfit
those who intend evil toward her lover.
(Vv. 4381-4579.) Erec went off along the trail, spurring his horse in
pursuit of the giants. He followed in pursuit of them until he caught
sight of them before they emerged from the wood; he saw the knight with
bare limbs mounted naked on a nag, his hands and feet bound as if he
were arrested for highway robbery. The giants had no lances, shields or
whetted swords; but they both had clubs and scourges, with which they
were beating him so cruelly that already they had cut the skin on his
back to the bone. Down his sides and flanks the blood ran, so that the
nag was all covered with blood down to the belly. [132] Erec came along
alone after them. He was very sad and distressed about the knight whom
he saw them treat so spitefully. Between two woods in an open field he
came up with them, and asks: "My lords," says he, "for what crime do you
treat this man so ill and lead him along like a common thief? You are
treating him too cruelly. You are driving him just as if he had been
caught stealing. It is a monstrous insult to strip a knight naked, and
then bind him and beat him so shamefully. Hand him over to me, I beg of
you with all good-will and courtesy. I have no wish to demand him of you
forcibly." "Vassal," they say, "what business is this of yours? You must
be mad to make any demand of us. If you do not like it, try and improve
matters." Erec replies: "Indeed, I like it not, and you shall not lead
him away so easily. Since you have left the matter in my hands, I say
whoever can get possession of him let him keep him. Take your positions.
I challenge you. You shall not take him any farther before some blows
have been dealt." "Vassal," they reply, "you are mad, indeed, to wish
to measure your strength with us. If you were four instead of one,
you would have no more strength against us than one lamb against two
wolves." "I do not know how it will turn out," Erec replies; "if the sky
fails and the earth melts, then many a lark will be caught. Many a man
boasts loudly who is of little worth. On guard now, for I am going
to attack you." The giants were strong and fierce, and held in their
clenched hands their big clubs tipped with iron. Erec went at them lance
in rest. He fears neither of them, in spite of their menace and their
pride, and strikes the foremost of them through the eye so deep into the
brain that the blood and brains spurt out at the back of his neck; that
one lies dead and his heart stops beating. When the other saw him dead,
he had reason to be sorely grieved. Furious, he went to avenge him: with
both hands he raised his club on high and thought to strike him squarely
upon his unprotected head: but Erec watched the blow, and received it on
his shield. Even so, the giant landed such a blow that it quite stunned
him, and almost made him fall to earth from his steed. Erec covers
himself with his shield and the giant, recovering himself, thinks to
strike again quickly upon his head. But Erec had drawn his sword, and
attacked him with such fierceness that the giant was severely handled:
he strikes him so hard upon the neck that he splits him down to the
saddle-bow. He scatters his bowels upon the earth, and the body falls
full length, split in two halves. The knight weeps with joy and,
worshipping, praises God who has sent him this aid. Then Erec unbound
him, made him dress and arm himself, and mount one of the horses; the
other he made him lead with his right hand, and asks him who he is. And
he replied: "Noble knight, thou art my liege lord. I wish to regard
thee as my lord, as by right I ought to do, for thou hast saved my life,
which but now would have been cut off from my body with great torment
and cruelty. What chance, fair gentle sire, in God's name, guided thee
hither to me, to free me by thy courage from the hands of my enemies?
Sire, I wish to do thee homage. Henceforth, I shall always accompany
thee and serve thee as my lord." Erec sees that he is disposed to serve
him gladly, if he may, and says: "Friend, for your service I have no
desire; but you must know that I came hither to succour you at the
instance of your lady, whom I found sorrowing in this wood. Because of
you, she grieves and moans; for full of sorrow is her heart. I wish to
present you to her now. As soon as I have reunited you with her, I shall
continue my way alone; for you have no call to go with me. I have no
need cf your company; but I fain would know your name." "Sire," says he,
"as you wish. Since you desire to know my name, it must not be kept from
you. My name is Cadoc of Tabriol: know that thus I am called. But since
I must part from you. I should like to know, if it may be, who you are
and of what land, where I may sometime find and search for you, when
I shall go a way from here." Erec replies: "Friend, that I will never
confide to you. Never speak of it again; but if you wish to find it out
and do me honour in any wise go quickly now without delay to my lord,
King Arthur, who with might and main is hunting the stag in yonder wood,
as I take it, not five short leagues from here. Go thither quickly and
take him word that you are sent to him as a gift by him whom yesterday
within his tent he joyfully received and lodged. And be careful not to
conceal from him from what peril I set free both your life and body. I
am dearly cherished at the court, and if you present yourself in my name
you will do me a service and honour. There you shall ask who I am; but
you cannot know it otherwise." "Sire," says Cadoc, "I will follow your
bidding in all respects. You need never have any fear that I do not go
with a glad heart. I shall tell the King the full truth regarding
the battle which you have fought on my behalf." Thus speaking, they
continued their way until they came to the maiden where Erec had left
her. The damsel's joy knew no bounds when she saw coming her lover whom
she never thought to see again. Taking him by the hand, Erec presents
him to her with the words: "Grieve no longer, demoiselle! Behold your
lover glad and joyous." And she with prudence makes reply: "Sire, by
right you have won us both. Yours we should be, to serve and honour. But
who could ever repay half the debt we owe you?" Erec makes answer: "My
gentle lady, no recompense do I ask of you. To God I now commend you
both, for too long, methinks, I have tarried here." Then he turns his
horse about, and rides away as fast as he can. Cadoc of Tabriol with his
damsel rides off in another direction; and soon he told the news to King
Arthur and the Queen.
(Vv. 4580-4778.) Erec continues to ride at great speed to the place
where Enide was awaiting him in great concern, thinking that surely he
had completely deserted her. And he, too, was in great fear lest some
one, finding her alone, might have carried her off. So he made all haste
to return. But the heat of the day was such, and his arms caused him
such distress, that his wounds broke open and burst the bandages. His
wounds never stopped bleeding before he came directly to the spot where
Enide was waiting for him. She espied him and rejoiced: but she did not
realise or know the pain from which he was suffering; for all his body
was bathed in blood, and his heart hardly had strength to beat. As he
was descending a hill he fell suddenly over upon his horse's neck. As he
tried to straighten up, he lost his saddle and stirrups, falling, as if
lifeless, in a faint. Then began such heavy grief, when Enide saw him
fall to earth. Full of fear at the sight of him, she runs toward him
like one who makes no concealment of her grief. Aloud she cries, and
wrings her hands: not a shred of her robe remains untorn across her
breast. She begins to tear her hair and lacerate her tender face. [133]
"Ah God!" she cries, "fair gentle Lord, why dost Thou let me thus live
on? Come Death, and kill me hastily!" With these words she faints upon
his body. When she recovered, she said to herself reproachfully: "Woe is
me, wretched Enide; I am the murderer of my lord, in having killed
him by my speech. My lord would still be now alive, if I in my mad
presumption had not spoken the word which engaged him in this adventure.
Silence never harmed any one, but speech often worketh woe. The truth of
this I have tried and proved in more ways than one." Beside her lord she
took her seat, holding his head upon her lap. Then she begins her dole
anew. "Alas," she says, "my lord, unhappy thou, thou who never hadst a
peer; for in thee was beauty seen and prowess was made manifest; wisdom
had given thee its heart, and largess set a crown upon thee, without
which no one is esteemed. But what did I say? A grievous mistake I made
in uttering the word which has killed my lord--that fatal poisoned word
for which I must justly be reproached; and I recognise and admit that
no one is guilty but myself; I alone must be blamed for this." Then
fainting she falls upon the ground, and when she later sat up again, she
only moans again the more: "God, what shall I do, and why live on? Why
does Death delay and hesitate to come and seize me without respite?
Truly, Death holds me in great contempt! Since Death does not deign to
take my life, I must myself perforce achieve the vengeance for my sinful
deed. Thus shall I die in spite of Death, who will not heed my call for
aid. Yet, I cannot die through mere desire, nor would complaining avail
me aught. The sword, which my lord had gilded on, ought by right to
avenge his death. I will not longer consume myself in distress, in
prayer, and vain desire." She draws the sword forth from its sheath and
begins to consider it. God, who is full of mercy, caused her to delay
a little; and while she passes in review her sorrow and her misfortune,
behold there comes riding apace a Count with numerous suite, who from
afar had heard the lady's loud outcry. God did not wish to desert her;
for now she would have killed herself, had she not been surprised by
those who took away from her the sword and thrust it back into its
sheath. The Count then dismounted from his horse and began to inquire
of her concerning the knight, and whether she was his wife or his
lady-love. "Both one and the other, sire," she says, "my sorrow is such
as I cannot tell. Woe is me that I am not dead." And the Count begins
to comfort her: "Lady," he says, "by the Lord, I pray you, to take some
pity on yourself! It is meet that you should mourn, but it is no use to
be disconsolate; for you may yet rise to high estate. Do not sink into
apathy, but comfort yourself; that will be wise, and God will give you
joy again. Your wondrous beauty holds good fortune in store for you; for
I will take you as my wife, and make you a countess and dame of rank:
this ought to bring you much consolation. And I shall have the body
removed and laid away with great honour. Leave off now this grief of
yours which in your frenzy you display." And she replies: "Sire, begone!
For God's sake, let me be! You can accomplish nothing here. Nothing that
one could say or do could ever make me glad again." At this the Count
drew back and said: "Let us make a bier, whereon to carry away this body
with the lady to the town of Limors. There the body shall be interred.
Then will I espouse the lady, whether or not she give consent: for never
did I see any one so fair, nor desire any as I do her. Happy I am to
have met with her. Now make quickly and without delay a proper bier for
this dead knight. Halt not for the trouble, nor from sloth." Then some
of his men draw out their swords and soon cut two saplings, upon which
they laid branches cross-wise. Upon this litter they laid Erec down;
then hitched two horses to it. Enide rides alongside, not ceasing to