e road, she in front and
he behind. At noon a squire met them in a little valley, accompanied
by two fellows who were carrying cakes and wine and some rich autumn
cheeses to those who were mowing the hay in the meadows belonging to
Count Galoain. The squire was a clever fellow, and when he saw Erec and
Enide, who were coming from the direction of the woods, he perceived
that they must have spent the night in the forest and had had nothing to
eat or drink; for within a radius of a day's journey there was no town,
city or tower, no strong place or abbey, hospice or place of refuge. So
he formed an honest purpose and turned his steps toward them, saluting
them politely and saving: "Sire, I presume that you have had a hard
experience last night. I am sure you have had no sleep and have spent
the night in these woods. I offer you some of this white cake, if it
please you to partake of it. I say it not in hope of reward: for I ask
and demand nothing of you. The cakes are made of good wheat; I have good
wine and rich cheeses, too, a white cloth and fine jugs. If you feel
like taking lunch, you need not seek any farther. Beneath these white
beeches, here on the greensward, you might lay off your arms and rest
yourself a while. My advice is that you dismount." Erec got down from
his horse and said: "Fair gentle friend, I thank you kindly: I will eat
something, without going farther." The young man knew well what to do:
he helped the lady from her horse, and the boys who had come with the
squire held the steeds. Then they go and sit down in the shade. The
squire relieves Erec of his helmet, unlaces the mouth-piece from before
his face; then he spreads out the cloth before them on the thick tuff.
He passes them the cake and wine, and prepares and cuts a cheese. Hungry
as they were, they helped themselves, and gladly drank of the wine. The
squire serves them and omits no attention. When they had eaten and drunk
their fill, Erec was courteous and generous. "Friend," says he, "as a
reward, I wish to present you with one of my horses. Take the one you
like the best. And I pray it may be no hardship for you to return to the
town and make ready there a goodly lodging." And he replies that he
will gladly do whatever is his will. Then he goes up to the horses and,
untying them, chooses the dapple, and speaks his thanks; for this one
seems to be the best. Up he springs by the left stirrup, and leaving
them both there, he rode off to the town