that he
will take no joy or pride in life so long as the slayer of his nephew
remains alive, he adds that whoever will bring him his head will be his
friend and will serve him well. Then a knight made boast that if he
can find the guilty man, he will present him with Cliges' head. Cliges
follows the young men until he falls among the Saxons, when he is seen
by him who had undertaken to carry off his head, and who starts after
him without delay. But Cliges haste had turned back to escape from his
enemies and came in to where he had left his companions; he found none
there, for they had returned to camp to relate their adventure. And the
emperor ordered to horse the Greeks and Germans in one band. Soon all
through the camp the knights are arming and mounting. Meanwhile Cliges
is hotly pursued by his enemy, all armed and with helmet closed. Cliges,
who never wished to be numbered among the coward and craven-hearted,
notices that he comes alone. First, the knight challenged him, calling
him "fellow," unable to conceal his rage: "Young fellow," he cried,
"thou shalt leave me here a pledge for my lord whom thou hast killed.
If I do not carry away thy head with me, I am not worth a counterfeit
besant. I must make of it a present to the duke, and will accept no
other forfeit. In return for his nephew, I shall make such restitution
that he will profit by the exchange." Cliges hears him reproaching him
thus boldly and with impudence. "Vassal," he says, "be on your guard!
For I will defend my head, and you shall not get it without my leave."
Then the attack begins. The other missed his blow, while Cliges struck
him with such force that horse and rider went down together in one heap.
The horse fell upon him so heavily that he shattered completely one of
his legs. Cliges dismounted on the greensward and disarmed him. When he
had disarmed him, he appropriated his weapons, and cut off his enemy's
head with the sword which had just now been his. After severing his head
he fixed it firmly on the point of his lance, thinking to offer it to
the duke, to whom his nephew had promised to present his own if he
could meet him in the strife. Cliges had no sooner put on the dead man's
helmet and taken his shield and mounted his steed, letting his own stray
at large to terrify the Greeks, than he saw advancing with more than a
hundred banners flying several full squadrons of Greeks and Germans. Now
the fierce and cruel struggles will soon begin be