taking
the dead knight's horse and arms, he arms himself with skill and
cleverness. When he was armed, he straightway mounts, taking the shield
and the lance, which was heavy, stiff, and decorated, and about his
waist he girt a sharp, bright, and flashing sword. Then he followed his
brother and lord into the fight. The latter demeaned himself bravely
in the melee for some time, breaking, splitting, and crushing shields,
helmets and hauberks. No wood or steel protected the man whom he
struck; he either wounded him or knocked him lifeless from the horse.
Unassisted, he did so well that he discomfited all whom he met, while
his companions did their part as well. The people of Logres, not knowing
him, are amazed at what they see, and ask the vavasor's sons about the
stranger knight. This reply is made to them: "Gentlemen, this is he who
is to deliver us all from durance and misery, in which we have so long
been confined, and we ought to do him great honour when, to set us free,
he has passed through so many perils and is ready to face many more. He
has done much, and will do yet more." Every one is overjoyed at hearing
this welcome news. The news travelled fast, and was noised about, until
it was known by all. Their strength and courage rise, so that they slay
many of those still alive, and apparently because of the example of
a single knight they work greater havoc than because of all the rest
combined. And if it had not been so near evening, all would have gone
away defeated; but night came on so dark that they had to separate.
(Vv. 2451-2614.) When the battle was over, all the captives pressed
about the knight, grasping his rein on either side, and thus addressing
him: "Welcome, fair sire," and each one adds: "Sire, for the name of
God, do not fail to lodge with me!" What one says they all repeat, for
young and old alike insist that he must lodge with them, saying: "You
will be more comfortably lodged with me than with any one else." Thus
each one addresses him to his face, and in the desire to capture him,
each one drags him from the rest, until they almost come to blows.
Then he tells them that they are very foolish and silly to struggle so.
"Cease this wrangling among yourselves, for it does no good to me or
you. Instead of quarrelling among ourselves, we ought rather to lend one
another aid. You must not dispute about the privilege of lodging me, but
rather consider how to lodge me in such a place that it may be to y
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