ord, and in
the strife they cut the straps of the shields away, and cut the shields
all to bits from end to end, so that the shreds hang down, no longer
serving as covering or defence; for they have so split them up that they
bring down the gleaming blades upon their sides, their arms, and hips.
Fierce, indeed, is their assault; yet they do not budge from their
standing-place any more than would two blocks of stone. Never were there
two knights so intent upon each other's death. They are careful not to
waste their blows, but lay them on as best they may; they strike and
bend their helmets, and they send the meshes of their hauberks flying
so, that they draw not a little blood, for the hauberks are so hot with
their body's heat that they hardly serve as more protection than a coat.
As they drive the sword-point at the face, it is marvellous that so
fierce and bitter a strife should last so long. But both are possessed
of such courage that one would not for aught retreat a foot before his
adversary until he had wounded him to death. Yet, in this respect they
were very honourable in not trying or deigning to strike or harm their
steeds in any way; but they sat astride their steeds without putting
foot to earth, which made the fight more elegant. At last my lord Yvain
crushed the helmet of the knight, whom the blow stunned and made so
faint that he swooned away, never having received such a cruel blow
before. Beneath his kerchief his head was split to the very brains, so
that the meshes of his bright hauberk were stained with the brains and
blood, all of which caused him such intense pain that his heart almost
ceased to beat. He had good reason then to flee, for he felt that he had
a mortal wound, and that further resistance would not avail. With this
thought in mind he quickly made his escape toward his town, where the
bridge was lowered and the gate quickly opened for him; meanwhile my
lord Yvain at once spurs after him at topmost speed. As a gerfalcon
swoops upon a crane when he sees him rising from afar, and then draws so
near to him that he is about to seize him, yet misses him, so flees the
knight, with Yvain pressing him so close that he can almost throw his
arm about him, and yet cannot quite come up with him, though he is so
close that he can hear him groan for the pain he feels. While the one
exerts himself in flight the other strives in pursuit of him, fearing to
have wasted his effort unless he takes him alive or