LITMIR.BIZ

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terribly.

      Then a bold baron dressed in purple pressed forth. He thrust into the press of Arthur’s knights and struck down many good knights. He was called Caliborn, the strongest man from the land of Pavia. Sir Bors turned to him and struck him through the broadshield and the center of his breast, and he fell to the earth, dead as a stone.

      Then Sir Feldenak the Mighty, a renowned man of arms, dressed himself to Sir Gawain to avenge Sir Gaius and his other fellows; Sir Gawain realized this, and drew Galantine, his sword, and hit him such a blow that he cleaved him down to his breast. Then he took his horse and went to his companions.

      Then a rich man of Rome, one of the senators, called to his fellows, bidding them to turn back, “for yonder messengers are proved to be bold boasters. If we follow them any farther, the harm will be ours.” So the Romans returned quickly to their tents and told the emperor how things had gone—how the Marshall of Rome was slain and there were more than five thousand dead in the field.

      But before they could depart, our knights in hiding broke out on both sides of the Romans, and there the bold Sir Bedevere and Sir Lionel brought down Romans on every side. There our noble knights of merry England struck them through the helmets and bright shields and slew them. The whole company returned to the emperor and told him that his men were destroyed—ten thousand!—in a battle against armed knights, and “they are the bravest men we ever saw in the field.”

      But always Sir Bors and Sir Gawain followed close behind the Romans, even up to the emperor’s tents. Then the Romans—too many to count—ran out on every side, both on horse and on foot. Sir Bors and Sir Berell were in the front of the attack and fought as fiercely as any knight ever had. Sir Gawain was on the right side and did what he could, but there were so many against him that he was unable to help his companions; he was reluctant to turn from the battle, even though he might lose his life.

      Sir Bors and Sir Berell, the good barons, fought as wildly as two boars to the uttermost of their strength. But in the end, although they were loath to do it, they yielded and were taken, thereby saving their lives. The main body of men were a little farther away with Sir Gawain, and they made sorrow out of measure for these two lords.

      Then a new knight joined the battle, cleanly arrayed—Sir Ider, Sir Uwain’s son, who was a noble man of arms. He brought five hundred good men attired in hauberks. When he learned that the fighting of Sir Bors and Sir Berell had ceased, he said, “Alas! This is too much shame and great loss. For when King Arthur learns that these two knights have been lost, he will never be merry until this is avenged.”

      “Ah, fair knight!” said Sir Gawain. “You must be a good man, for so is your father; I know your mother well. You were born in England. Alas, these Romans have chased us like wild hares, and they have taken our noble leaders in the field. There was never a better knight who rode a horse! See where they led our lords over yonder broad land. I swear,” said Sir Gawain, “that I will never see my lord Arthur unless I rescue those who have been taken from us.”

      “That is knightly spoken,” said Sir Ider. Then they took up their bridles and headed over the fields. There was a rushing of spears and the cutting of swords; Sir Gawain, with his sword Galantine, did many wondrous feats. He thrust through the press up to the man who was leading Sir Bors, and ran him through, burying his sword up to the hilt, and then led Sir Bors away to his companions. Then the young Sir Ider, Sir Uwain’s son, struck at the knight who had Sir Berell such that his sword was covered with brains and blood.

      A proud senator pursued Sir Gawain and gave him a great buffet; Sir Ider saw that and rode after him, and would have slain the senator if he had not quickly yielded. He was loath to yield himself but he had no other choice, and with that Sir Ider led him out of the fight to Sir Lionel and Sir Lovell, and commanded them to guard him on pain of losing their heads.

      Then hard fighting began, for the Romans ever increased in strength. When Sir Gawain saw that, he sent forth a knight to King Arthur. “And tell him what sorrow we endure, and how we have captured the chief chancellor of Rome. Peter is a prisoner, a full noble senator, and other proud princes whose names we know not. Pray him, as he is our lord, to rescue us soon, for our prisoners will earn for us riches beyond measure. And tell him that I am greatly wounded.”

      When the messengers came to the king and told him these words, the king thanked Christ, clapping his hands. “Although I may live many winters, no knight has ever been better rewarded than I am by your true words. But I swear to God, if Gawain is in any peril of death, there is not enough gold under heaven to save their lives. I would rather have the emperor and his chief lords sunk into hell than have any lord of the Round Table bitterly wounded.” Then the prisoners were brought forth before Arthur, and he commanded they be placed in the keeping of the constable and to be treated as noble prisoners.

      Within a while the advance party arrived—that is to say, Sir Bors, Sir Bedevere, Sir Lionel and Sir Gawain, who was sorely wounded—with all their noble fellowship; they had lost no man of worship. Then the king had Gawain’s wounds treated as he watched, and he said, “Fair cousin, I rue your hurts! If I thought it might gladden your heart or help you heal better, I would present you with the heads of those who have caused you to suffer so.”

      “That would be to little avail,” said Sir Gawain, “if they should lose their heads, even if I wished it, for it is shame to slay knights once they have yielded.” Then there was joy and play amongst the knights of the Round Table, and they spoke of the great prowess the messengers did that day in deeds of arms.

      In the morning, when it was day, the king called to him Sir Cador of Cornwall, Sir Clarras of Claremont (a clean man of arms) and Sir Cloudres and Sir Cliges (two old noble knights) and Sir Bors and Sir Berell (noble good men of arms), and also Sir Brian des Isles, and Sir Bedevere the Bold. He also called to him Sir Lancelot, and in hearing of all the people said, “I pray you, sir, as you love me, go along with these other knights and boldly lead these prisoners into the town of Paris; keep them there securely, if you would have my love. If any rescue attempt is made, I have faith in you, so help me Jesus.” Then Sir Lancelot and Sir Cador along with these other knights called out from their fellowship ten thousand bold men, the best arrayed of their company; they then unfolded and displayed their banners.

      19 The Battle Continues

      Now we turn to the Emperor of Rome, who found out by means of a spy where the prisoners were going. He called to him Sir Edolf and Sir Edward, two mighty kings, along with Sir Sextor of Libya, the King of Syria, and many senators of Rome. All of these turned toward Troyes with many proven knights to ambush the king’s messengers who were charged with the care of the prisoners. Thus, as our knights passed on toward Paris, an ambush of sixty thousand men of arms lay ahead of them.

      C V.7

      “Now lords,” said Sir Lancelot, “I pray you, hearken to me awhile. I fear that in the woods ahead our enemies are hiding. Therefore, it is my advice that we send three good knights ahead.”

      “I agree,” said Sir Cador, and all the others said the same. They agreed that Sir Cliges, Sir Claryon, and Sir Clement the Noble should investigate the woods, both the dales and the downs. So these three knights rode forth, and saw in the woods men of arms riding on horses.

      Then Sir Cliges called loudly: “Is there any knight, king, or kaiser who dares for love of the lord that he serves to challenge a knight of the Round Table? Be he king or knight, here is his challenger ready!”

      An earl answered him angrily and said, “Your lord thinks that with all his knights, he will conquer the world! I believe your courage will be quenched in a short time!”

      “Fie on you, coward!” said Sir Cliges. “You speak as a knight recreant! By Jesus, my arms are known throughout all England and Britain; I am descended from old barons of noble ancestry, and Sir Cliges is my name, a knight of the Table Round. Brutus brought my ancestors from Troy.”

      “You seem certainly,” said the king, “to be one of good lineage by your bright brows, but no matter how you conjure or what you say, there is no one here who will meddle with you at this time.” Then Sir Cliges

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