It is recorded of Garcia Perez de Vargas, a
noble-minded Spanish knight of the thirteenth century, that he and a
companion were once suddenly met by a party of seven Moors. His friend
fled: but not so Perez; he at once prepared himself for the combat,
and while keeping the Moors at bay, who hardly seemed inclined to
fight, he found that his scarf had fallen from his shoulder.

"He look'd around, and saw the Scarf, for still the Moors were near,
And they had pick'd it from the sward, and loop'd it on a spear.
'These Moors,' quoth Garci Perez, 'uncourteous Moors they be--
Now, by my soul, the scarf they stole, yet durst not question me!

"'Now, reach once more my helmet.' The Esquire said him, nay,
'For a silken string why should you fling, perchance, your life away?'
'I had it from my lady,' quoth Garci, 'long ago,
And never Moor that scarf, be sure, in proud Seville shall show.'

"But when the Moslems saw him, they stood in firm array:
He rode among their armed throng, he rode right furiously.
'Stand, stand, ye thieves and robbers, lay down my lady's pledge,'
He cried, and ever as he cried, they felt his faulchion's edge.

"That day when the lord of Vargas came to the camp alone,
The scarf, his lady's largess, around his breast was thrown:
Bare was his head, his sword was red, and from his pommel strung
Seven turbans green, sore hack'd I ween, before Garci Perez hung."

It casts a redeeming trait on this butchering sort or bravery to find
that when the hero returned to the camp he steadily refused to reveal
the name of the person who had so cravenly deserted him.

But the favours which ladies presented to a knight were various;
consisting of "jewels, ensigns of noblesse, scarfs, hoods, sleeves,
mantles, bracelets, knots of ribbon; in a word, some detached part of
their dress." These he always placed conspicuously on his person, and
defended, as he would have done his life. Sometimes a lock of his fair
one's hair inspired the hero:

"Than did he her heere unfolde,
And on his helme it set on hye,
With rede thredes of ryche golde,
Whiche he had of his lady.
Full richely his shelde was wrought,
With asure stones and beten golde,
But on his lady was his thought,
The yelowe heere what he dyd beholde."[73]

It is recorded in "Perceforest," that at the end of one tournament
"the ladies were so stripped of their hea