Four Arthurian Romances
enters the water. But his threats are not heard, and he calls out to
him a third time: "Knight, do not enter the ford against my will and
prohibition; for, by my head, I shall strike you as soon as I see you in
the ford." But he is so deep in thought that he does not hear him. And
the horse, quickly leaving the bank, leaps into the ford and greedily
begins to drink. And the knight says he shall pay for this, that his
shield and the hauberk he wears upon his back shall afford him no
protection. First, he puts his horse at a gallop, and from a gallop he
urges him to a run, and he strikes the knight so hard that he knocks
him down flat in the ford which he had forbidden him to cross. His
lance flew from his hand and the shield from his neck. When he feels the
water, he shivers, and though stunned, he jumps to his feet, like one
aroused from sleep, listening and looking about him with astonishment,
to see who it can be who has struck him. Then face to face with the
other knight, he said: "Vassal, tell me why you have struck me, when I
was not aware of your presence, and when I had done you no harm." "Upon
my word, you had wronged me," the other says: "did you not treat me
disdainfully when I forbade you three times to cross the ford, shouting
at you as loudly as I could? You surely heard me challenge you at least
two or three times, and you entered in spite of me, though I told you
I should strike you as soon as I saw you in the ford." Then the knight
replies to him: "Whoever heard you or saw you, let him be damned, so far
as I am concerned. I was probably deep in thought when you forbade me
to cross the ford. But be assured that I would make you reset it, if I
could just lay one of my hands on your bridle." And the other replies:
"Why, what of that? If you dare, you may seize my bridle here and now. I
do not esteem your proud threats so much as a handful of ashes." And he
replies: "That suits me perfectly. However the affair may turn out, I
should like to lay my hands on you." Then the other knight advances
to the middle of the ford, where the other lays his left hand upon his
bridle, and his right hand upon his leg, pulling, dragging, and pressing
him so roughly that he remonstrates, thinking that he would pull his
leg out of his body. Then he begs him to let go, saying: "Knight, if
it please thee to fight me on even terms, take thy shield and horse
and lance, and joust with me." He answers: "That will I not do, upon my
word; for I suppose thou wouldst run away as soon as thou hadst escaped
my grip." Hearing this, he was much ashamed, and said: "Knight, mount
thy horse, in confidence for I will pledge thee loyally my word that I
shall not flinch or run away." Then once again he answers him: "First,
thou wilt have to swear to that, and I insist upon receiving thy oath
that thou wilt neither run away nor flinch, nor touch me, nor come near
me until thou shalt see me on my horse; I shall be treating thee very
generously, if, when thou art in my hands, I let thee go." He can
do nothing but give his oath; and when the other hears him swear, he
gathers up his shield and lance which were floating in the ford and by
this time had drifted well down-stream; then he returns and takes his
horse. After catching and mounting him, he seizes the shield by the
shoulder-straps and lays his lance in rest. Then each spurs toward the
other as fast as their horses can carry them. And he who had to defend
the ford first attacks the other, striking him so hard that his lance is
completely splintered. The other strikes him in return so that he throws
him prostrate into the ford, and the water closes over him. Having
accomplished that, he draws back and dismounts, thinking he could drive
and chase away a hundred such. While he draws from the scabbard his
sword of steel, the other jumps up and draws his excellent flashing
blade. Then they clash again, advancing and covering themselves with the
shields which gleam with gold. Ceaselessly and without repose they
wield their swords; they have the courage to deal so many blows that the
battle finally is so protracted that the Knight of the Cart is greatly
ashamed in his heart, thinking that he is making a sorry start in the
way he has undertaken, when he has spent so much time in defeating a
single knight. If he had met yesterday a hundred such, he does not think
or believe that they could have withstood him; so now he is much grieved
and wroth to be in such an exhausted state that he is missing his
strokes and losing time. Then he runs at him and presses him so hard
that the other knight gives way and flees. However reluctant he may
be, he leaves the ford and crossing free. But the other follows him in
pursuit until he falls forward upon his hands; then he of the cart runs
up to him, swearing by all he sees that he shall rue the day when he
upset him in the ford and disturbed his revery. The damsel, whom the
knight had with him, upon hearing the threats, is in great fear, and
begs him for her sake to forbear from killing him; but he tells her that
he must do so, and can show him no mercy for her sake, in view of
the shameful wrong that he has done him. Then, with sword drawn, he
approaches the knight who cries in sore dismay: "For God's sake and for
my own, show me the mercy I ask of you." And he replies: "As God may
save me, no one ever sinned so against me that I would not show him
mercy once, for God's sake as is right, if he asked it of me in God's
name. And so on thee I will have mercy; for I ought not to refuse thee
when thou hast besought me. But first, thou shalt give me thy word to
constitute thyself my prisoner whenever I may wish to summon thee."
Though it was hard to do so, he promised him. At once the damsel said:
"O knight, since thou hast granted the mercy he asked of thee, if ever
thou hast broken any bonds, for my sake now be merciful and release this
prisoner from his parole. Set him free at my request, upon condition
that when the time comes, I shall do my utmost to repay thee in any way
that thou shalt choose." Then he declares himself satisfied with the
promise she has made, and sets the knight at liberty. Then she is
ashamed and anxious, thinking that he will recognise her, which she did
not wish. But he goes away at once, the knight and the damsel commending
him to God, and taking leave of him. He grants them leave to go, while
he himself pursues his way, until late in the afternoon he met a damsel
coming, who was very fair and charming, well attired and richly dressed.
The damsel greets him prudently and courteously, and he replies:
"Damsel, God grant you health and happiness." Then the damsel said
to him: "Sire, my house is prepared for you, if you will accept my
hospitality, but you shall find shelter there only on condition that you
will lie with me; upon these terms I propose and make the offer." Not a
few there are who would have thanked her five hundred times for such
a gift; but he is much displeased, and made a very different answer:
"Damsel, I thank you for the offer of your house, and esteem it highly,
but, if you please, I should be very sorry to lie with you." "By my
eyes," the damsel says, "then I retract my offer." And he, since it is
unavoidable, lets her have her way, though his heart grieves to give
consent. He feels only reluctance now; but greater distress will be his
when it is time to go to bed. The damsel, too, who leads him away, will
pass through sorrow and heaviness. For it is possible that she will
love him so that she will not wish to part with him. As soon as he had
granted her wish and desire, she escorts him to a fortified place, than
which there was none fairer in Thessaly; for it was entirely enclosed by
a high wall and a deep moat, and there was no man within except him whom
she brought with her.
(Vv. 983-1042.) Here she had constructed for her residence a quantity of
handsome rooms, and a large and roomy hall. Riding along a river bank,
they approached their lodging-place, and a drawbridge was lowered to
allow them to pass. Crossing the bridge, they entered in, and found the
hall open with its roof of tiles. Through the open door they pass, and
see a table laid with a broad white cloth, upon which the dishes were
set, and the candles burning in their stands, and the gilded silver
drinking-cups, and two pots of wine, one red and one white. Standing
beside the table, at the end of a bench, they found two basins of warm
water in which to wash their hands, with a richly embroidered towel, all
white and clean, with which to dry their hands. No valets, servants, or
squires were to be found or seen. The knight, removing his shield from
about his neck, hangs it upon a hook, and, taking his lance, lays it
above upon a rack. Then he dismounts from his horse, as does the damsel
from hers. The knight, for his part, was pleased that she did not care
to wait for him to help her to dismount. Having dismounted, she runs
directly to a room and brings him a short mantle of scarlet cloth which
she puts on him. The hall was by no means dark; for beside the light
from the stars, there were many large twisted candles lighted there, so
that the illumination was very bright. When she had thrown the mantle
about his shoulders, she said to him: "Friend, here is the water and the
towel; there is no one to present or offer it to you except me whom you
see. Wash your hands, and then sit down, when you feel like doing so.
The hour and the meal, as you can see, demand that you should do so."
He washes, and then gladly and readily takes his seat, and she sits down
beside him, and they eat and drink together, until the time comes to
leave the table.
(Vv. 1043-1206.) When they had risen from the table, the damsel said to
the knight: "Sire, if you do not object, go outside and amuse yourself;
but, if you please, do not stay after you think I must be in bed. Feel
no concern or embarrassment; for then you may come to me at once, if you
will keep the promise you have made." And he replies: "I will keep my
word, and will return when I think the time has come." Then he went out,
and stayed in the courtyard until he thought it was time to return and
keep the promise he had made. Going back into the hall, he sees nothing
of her who would be his mistress; for she was not there. Not finding or
seeing her, he said: "Wherever she may be, I shall look for her until I
find her." He makes no delay in his search, being bound by the promise
he had made her. Entering one of the rooms, he hears a damsel cry aloud,
and it was the very one with whom he was about to lie. At the same time,
he sees the door of another room standing open, and stepping toward it,
he sees right before his eyes a knight who had thrown her down, and was
holding her naked and prostrate upon the bed. She, thinking that he had
come of course to help her, cried aloud: "Help, help, thou knight, who
art my guest. If thou dost not take this man away from me, I shall find
no one to do so; if thou dost not succour me speedily, he will wrong me
before thy eyes. Thou art the one to lie with me, in accordance with
thy promise; and shall this man by force accomplish his wish before thy
eyes? Gentle knight, exert thyself, and make haste to bear me aid." He
sees that the other man held the damsel brutally uncovered to the waist,
and he is ashamed and angered to see him assault her so; yet it is not
jealousy he feels, nor will he be made a cuckold by him. At the door
there stood as guards two knights completely armed and with swords
drawn. Behind them there stood four men-at-arms, each armed with an axe
the sort with which you could split a cow down the back as easily as a
root of juniper or broom. The knight hesitated at the door, and thought:
"God, what can I do? I am engaged in no less an affair than the quest of