ights mount guard over her, and there
are ten tapers burning there, which light up the place all about. The
knights were weary and exhausted by the strain they had undergone; so
they ate and drank that night until they all fell sound asleep. When
night came on, Cliges steals away from the court and from all his
followers, so that there was not a single knight or servant who knew
what had become of him. He did not stop until he found John, who advises
him as best he can. He furnishes him with arms, but he will never
have any need of them. Once armed, they both spur to the cemetery. The
cemetery was enclosed all about with a high wall, so that the knights,
who had gone asleep after making the gate fast within, could rest
assured that no one would enter there. Cliges does not see how he can
get in, for there is no passing through the gate. And yet, somehow he
must pass through, for love bids him and drives him on. He tries the
wall and climbs up, being strong and agile. Inside was a garden planted
with trees, one of which stood so near the wall that it touched it. Now
Cliges had what he needed, and after letting himself down by the tree,
the first thing he did was to go to open the gate for John. Seeing the
knights asleep, they extinguished all the lights, so that the place
remained in darkness. And John now uncovers the grave and opens the
coffin, taking care to do it no harm. Cliges steps into the grave and
lifts out his Sweetheart, all weak and prostrate, whom he fondles,
kisses, and embraces. He does not know whether to rejoice or regret that
she does not stir or move. And John, as quickly as he could, closed
up the sepulchre again, so that it was not apparent that any one had
tampered with it. Then they betook themselves as fast as they could to
the tower. When they had set her in the tower, in the rooms which were
beneath the level of the ground, they took off her grave clothes; and
Cliges, who knew nothing of the potion which she had taken, which made
her dumb and kept her motionless, thinks that she is dead, and is in
despair with anxiety as he heavily sighs and weeps. But soon the time
will come for the potion to lose its force. And Fenice, who hears his
grief, struggles and strives for strength to comfort him by word or
glance. Her heart almost bursts because of the sorrow which he shows.
"Ah Death!" he says, "how mean thou art, to spare and reprieve all
things despicable and vile--to let them live on and endure. D