Four Arthurian Romances
come together and sally forth to welcome them. The two emperors, upon
hearing the report about Cligés and the damsel, go to meet them with
joyful hearts, and each can hardly wait to hear how Cligés found and
recovered the empress. Cligés tells them, and, as they listen, they are
amazed and are loud in their praises of his courage and devotion.
But, for his part, the duke is furious, swearing and proclaiming his
determination to fight Cligés, if he dares, in single combat; and it
shall be agreed that if Cligés wins the battle the emperor shall proceed
unchallenged, and freely take the maiden with him, and if he should kill
or defeat Cligés, who had done him such injury, then let there be no
truce or stay to prevent each party from doing its best. This is what
the duke desires, and by an interpreter of his, who knew both the Greek
and the German tongues, he announces to the two emperors his desire thus
to arrange the battle.
(Vv. 3963-4010.) The messenger delivered his message so well in both
languages that all could understand it. The entire army was in an
uproar, saying that may God forbid that Cligés ever engage in the
battle. Both emperors are in a fright, but Cligés throws himself at
their feet and begs them not to grieve, but if ever he did them any
favour, he prays them to grant him this battle as a guerdon and reward.
And if the right to fight should be denied him, then he will never again
serve for a single day his uncle's cause and honour. The emperor, who
loved his nephew as he should, raised him by the hand and said: "Fair
nephew, I am deeply grieved to know you are so keen to fight; for after
joy, sorrow is to be expected. [232] You have made me glad, I cannot
deny it; but it is hard for me to yield the point and send you forth to
this battle, when I see you still so young. And yet I know you to be
so confident of yourself that I dare not ever refuse anything that you
choose to ask of me. Be assured that, merely to gratify you, it should
be done; but if my request has any power, you would never assume this
task." "My lord, there is no need of further speech," said Cligés; "may
God damn me, if I would take the whole world, and miss this battle! I do
not know why I should seek from you any postponement or long delay."
The emperor weeps with pity, while Cligés sheds tears of joy when the
permission to fight is granted him. Many a tear was shed that day, and
no respite or delay was asked. Before the hour of prime, by the duke's
own messenger the challenge to battle was sent back to him accepted as
he had proposed.
(Vv. 4011-4036.) The duke, who thinks and confidently trusts that Cligés
will be unable to stave off death and defeat at his hands, has himself
quickly armed. Cligés, who is anxious for the fight, feels no concern
as to how he shall defend himself. He asks the emperor for his arms, and
desires him to dub him a knight. So the emperor generously gives him his
arms, and he takes them, his heart being keen for the battle which he
anticipates with joy and eagerness. No time is lost in arming him. And
when he was armed from head to foot, the emperor, all sorrowing, girds
the sword upon his side. Thus Cligés completely armed mounts his white
Arab steed; from his neck he hangs by the straps an ivory shield, such
as will never break or split; and upon it there was neither colour nor
design. All his armour was white, and the steed, and the harness, too,
was all whiter than any snow.
(Vv. 4037-4094.) Cligés and the duke, now being armed, summon each other
to meet half way, and they stipulate that their men shall take their
stand on either side, but without their swords and lances, under oath
and pledge that not a man will be so rash, so long as the battle lasts,
as to dare to move for any reason, any more than he would dare to pluck
out his own eye. When this had been agreed upon, they came together,
each yearning ardently for the glory he hopes to win and for the joy
of victory. But before a single blow was dealt, the empress has herself
borne thither, solicitous for Cligés' fate. It seems to her that if he
dies, she, too, must needs do so. No comfort can avail to keep her from
joining him in death, for, without him, life has no joys for her. When
all were gathered on the field--high and low, young and old--and the
guards had taken their place, then both seized their lances and rushed
together so savagely that they both broke their lances and fell to
the ground, unable to keep their saddles. But not being wounded, they
quickly get upon their feet and attack each other without delay. Upon
their resonant helmets they play such a tune with swords that it seems
to those who are looking on that the helmets are on fire and send forth
sparks. And when the swords rebound in air, gleaming sparks fly off
from them as from a smoking piece of iron which the smith beats upon his
anvil after, drawing it from the forge. Both of the vassals are generous
in dealing blows in great plenty, and each has the best of intentions
to repay quickly what he borrows; neither one holds back from repaying
promptly capital and interest, without accounting and without measure.
But the duke is much chagrined with anger and discomfiture when he fails
to defeat and slay Cligés in the first assault. Such a marvellously
great and mighty blow he deals him that he falls at his feet upon his
knee.
(Vv. 4095-4138.) When this blow brought Cligés down, the emperor was
struck with fear, and would have been no more dismayed had he himself
been beneath the shield. Nor could Fenice in her fear longer contain
herself, whatever the effect might be, from crying: "God help him!"
as loud as she could. But that was the only word she uttered, for
straightway her voice failed her, and she fell forward upon her face,
which was somewhat wounded by the fall. Two high nobles raised her up
and supported her upon her feet until she returned to consciousness.
But in spite of her countenance, none who saw her guessed why she had
swooned. Not a man there blamed her, but rather praised her for her act,
for each one supposes that she would have done the same thing for him,
if he had been in Cligés' place, but in all this they are quite astray.
Cligés heard, and well understood, the sound of Fenice's cry. Her voice
restored his strength and courage, as he leaped up quickly, and came
with fury, toward the duke, so charging and attacking him that the duke
in turn was now dismayed. For now he found him more fierce for the
fray, stronger and more agile and energetic than when at first they came
together. And because he feared his onslaught, he cried: "Young man, so
help me God, I see thou art brave and very bold. If it were not for my
nephew now, whom I shall never more forget, I would gladly make peace
with thee, and leave thy quarrel without interfering in it more."
(Vv. 4139-4236.) "Duke," says Cligés, "what is your pleasure now? Must
one not surrender his right when he is unable to recover it? When one of
two evils must be faced, one should choose the lesser one. Your nephew
was not wise to become angrily embroiled with me. You may be sure that
I shall treat you in like fashion, if I get the chance, unless you agree
to my terms of peace." The duke, to whom it seems that Cligés' vigour is
steadily growing, thinks that he had better desist in mid-career before
he is utterly undone. Nevertheless, he does not openly give in, but
says: "Young man, I see thou art skilful and alert and not lacking in
courage. But thou art yet too young; therefore I feel assured that if I
defeat and kill thee I shall gain no praise or fame, and I should never
like to confess in the hearing of a man of honour that I had fought with
thee, for I should but do thee honour, and myself win shame. But if thou
art aware of honour's worth, it will always be a glorious thing for thee
to have withstood me for two rounds at arms. So now my heart and feeling
bid me let thee have thy way, and no longer fight with thee." [233]
"Duke," says Cligés, "that will not do. In the hearing of all you must
repeat those words, for it shall never be said and noised abroad that
you let me off and had mercy on me. In the hearing of all those who are
gathered here, you must repeat your words, if you wish to be reconciled
with me." So the duke repeats his words in the hearing of all. Then they
make peace and are reconciled. But however the matter be regarded Cligés
had all the honour and glory of it, and the Greeks were greatly pleased.
For their part, the Saxons could not laugh, all of them having plainly
seen that their lord was worn out and exhausted just now; but there is
no doubt at all that, if he could have helped himself, this peace would
never have been made, and that Cligés' soul would have been drawn from
his body had it proven possible. The duke goes back to Saxony sorrowing,
downcast, and filled with shame; for of his men there are not even two
who do not regard him as worsted, defeated, and disgraced. The Saxons
with all their shame have now returned to Saxony, while the
Greeks without delay make their way with joy and gladness toward
Constantinople, for Cligés by his prowess has opened the way for them.
The emperor of Germany no longer follows and convoys them. Taking leave
of the Greek troops and of his daughter and Cligés, and finally of the
emperor, he stayed behind in Germany. And the emperor of the Greeks goes
off happily and in joyous mood. Cligés, brave and courteous, calls to
mind his sire's command. If his uncle, the emperor, will give him his
permission, he will go and ask him for leave to return to Britain and
there converse with his great-uncle, the King; for he is desirous of
seeing and knowing him. So he presents himself before the emperor, and
requests that he consent to let him go to Britain to see his uncle and
his friends. Gently he proffered his request. But his uncle refused,
when he had listened to the request he made. "Fair nephew," he said, "it
is not my will that you should wish to leave me. I shall never give you
without regret this permission to go away. For it is my pleasure and
desire that you should be my companion and lord, with me, of all my
empire."
(Vv. 4237-4282.) Now Cligés hears something that does not suit him when
his uncle refuses the prayer and request he made. "Fair sire," said he,
"I am not brave and wise enough, nor would it be seemly for me to join
myself with you or any one else in the duty of governing this empire; I
am too young and inexperienced. They put gold to the test when they wish
to learn if it is fine. And so it is my wish, in brief, to try to prove
myself, wherever I can find the test. In Britain, if I am brave, I can
apply myself to the whetstone and to the real true test, whereby my
prowess shall be proved. In Britain are the gentlemen whom honour and
prowess distinguish. And he who wishes to win honour should associate
himself with them, for honour is won and gained by him who associates
with gentlemen. And so I ask you for leave to go, and you may be very
sure that if you do not grant me the boon and send me thither I shall go
without your leave." "Fair nephew, I will give you leave, seeing you
are so disposed that I cannot keep you back either by force or prayer
of mine. Now since prayer, prohibition, and force do not avail, may God
give you the desire and inclination promptly to return. I wish you to
take with you more than a bushel of gold and silver, and I will give for
your pleasure such horses as you may choose." He had no sooner spoken
than Cligés bowed before him. All that the emperor, mentioned and
promised him was straightway brought thither.
(Vv. 4283-4574.) Cligés took all the money and companions that he
wished and needed. For his personal use he took four horses of different