ield their swords upon each other. They can scarcely harm each other
now; yet, they do not desist at all from exercising all their strength.
Because their eyes are so blinded that they completely lose their sight,
they let their shields fall to the ground, and seize each other angrily.
Each pulls and drags the other, so that they fall upon their knees.
Thus, long they fight until the hour of noon is past, and the big knight
is so exhausted that his breath quite fails him. Erec has him at his
mercy, and pulls and drags so that he breaks all the lacing of his
helmet, and forces him over at his feet. He falls over upon his face
against Erec's breast, and has not strength to rise again. Though it
distresses him, he has to say and own: "I cannot deny it, you have
beaten me; but much it goes against my will. And yet you may be of such
degree and fame that only credit will redound to me; and insistently I
would request, if it may be in any way, that I might know your name, and
he thereby somewhat comforted. If a better man has defeated me, I shall
be glad, I promise you; but if it has so fallen out that a baser man
than I has worsted me, then I must feel great grief indeed." "Friend,
dost thou wish to know my name?" says Erec; "Well, I shall tell thee ere
I leave here; but it will be upon condition that thou tell me now why
thou art in this garden. Concerning that I will know all what is thy
name and what the Joy; for I am very anxious to hear the truth from
beginning to end of it." "Sire," says he, "fearlessly I will tell you
all you wish to know." Erec no more withholds his name, but says: "Didst
thou ever hear of King Lac and of his son Erec?" "Yea, sire, I knew
him well; for I was at his father's court for many a day before I was
knighted, and, if he had had his will, I should never have left him for
anything." "Then thou oughtest to know me well, if thou weft ever with
me at the court of my father, the King." "Then, upon my faith, it has
turned out well. Now hear who has detained me so long in this garden. I
will tell the truth in accordance with your injunction, whatever it
may cost me. That damsel who yonder sits, loved me from childhood and
I loved her. It pleased us both, and our love grew and increased, until
she asked a boon of me, but did not tell me what it was. Who would
deny his mistress aught? There is no lover but would surely do all his
sweet-heart's pleasure without default or guile, whenever he can in any
way