here is none so strong but must fall from
his horse to earth. That day Cliges did so well, and unhorsed and took
captive so many knights, that he gave double the satisfaction to his
side, and won for himself twice the glory that he had gained on the
preceding day. When evening came, he betook himself as fast as he could
to his lodging-place, and quickly ordered out the vermilion shield and
his other arms, while he ordered the arms which he had worn that day to
be laid away: the host carefully put them aside. Again that evening the
knights whom he had captured sought for him, but without hearing any
news of him. In their lodging-places, most of those who speak of him do
so with praise and admiration. The next day the gay and doughty knights
return to the contest. From the Oxford side comes forth a vassal of
great renown--his name was Perceval of Wales. As soon as Cliges saw him
start, and learned certainly who it was, when he had heard the name of
Perceval he was very anxious to contest with him. He issued straightway
from the ranks upon a Spanish sorrel steed, and completely clad in
vermilion armour. Then all gaze at him, wondering more than ever
before, and saying that they had never seen so perfect a knight. And
the contestants without delay spur forward until their mighty blows land
upon their shields. The lances, though they were short and stout, bend
until they look like hoops. In the sight of all who were looking on,
Cliges struck Perceval so hard that he knocked him from his horse and
made him surrender without a long struggle or much ado. When Perceval
had pledged his word then the joust began again, and the engagement
became general. Every knight whom Cliges meets he forces to earth. He
did not quit the lists that day even for a single hour, while all the
others struck at him as at a tower--individually, of course, and not
in groups of two or three, for such was not the custom then. Upon his
shield, as upon an anvil, the others strike and pound, splitting and
hewing it to bits. But every one who strikes him there, he pays back by
casting him from his stirrups and saddle; and no one, unless he wished
to lie, could fail to say when the jousting ceased that the knight with
the red shield had won all the glory on that day. And all the best and
most courtly knights would fain have made his acquaintance. But their
desire was not felt before he had departed secretly, seeing the sun
already set; and he had his vermilion