The wood is cut and the steel gives way, so that they wound each other
in several places. They pay each other such angry blows that it seems
as if they had made a bargain. The swords often descend upon the horses'
croups, where they drink and feast upon their blood; their riders strike
them upon the flanks until at last they kill them both. And when both
have fallen to earth, they attack each other afoot; and if they had
cherished a mortal hatred, they could not have assailed each other more
fiercely with their swords. They deal their blows with greater frequency
than the man who stakes his money at dice and never fails to double the
stakes every time he loses; yet, this game of theirs was very different;
for there were no losses here, but only fierce blows and cruel strife.
All the people came out from the house: the master, his lady, his sons
and daughters; no man or woman, friend or stranger, stayed behind,
but all stood in line to see the fight in progress in the broad,
level field. The Knight of the Cart blames and reproaches himself for
faintheartedness when he sees his host watching him and notices all the
others looking on. His heart is stirred with anger, for it seems to him
that he ought long since to have beaten his adversary. Then he strikes
him, rushing in like a storm and bringing his sword down close by his
head; he pushes and presses him so hard that he drives him from his
ground and reduces him to such a state of exhaustion that he has little
strength to defend himself. Then the knight recalls how the other had
basely reproached him about the cart; so he assails him and drubs him so
soundly that not a string or strap remains unbroken about the neck-band
of his hauberk, and he knocks the helmet and ventail from his head. His
wounds and distress are so great that he has to cry for mercy. Just
as the lark cannot withstand or protect itself against the hawk which
outflies it and attacks it from above, so he in his helplessness and
shame, must invoke him and sue for mercy. And when he hears him beg for
mercy, he ceases his attack and says: "Dost thou wish for mercy?" He
replies: "You have asked a very clever question; any fool could ask
that. I never wished for anything so much as I now wish for mercy."
Then he says to him: "Thou must mount, then, upon a cart. Nothing thou
couldst say would have any influence with me, unless thou mountest the
cart, to atone for the vile reproaches thou didst address to me with