eir
chiefs, and be as ready as before to renew their harassing warfare.

On his return from the field the king assembled many of his principal
knights and leaders, and summoned the Earl of Evesham, with the message
that he was to bring his esquire with him. When they reached the tent
the king said:

"My lords, as some of you may be aware, I have this day had a narrow
escape from death. Separated from you in the battle, and attended only
by my standard-bearer, I was surrounded by the Saracens. I should
doubtless have cleft my way through the infidel dogs, but a foul peasant
stabbed my charger from below, and the poor brute fell with me. My
standard-bearer was killed, and in another moment my nephew Arthur would
have been your king, had it not been that my good lord here, attended by
this brave lad, appeared. I have seen a good deal of fighting, but never
did I see a braver stand than they made above my body. The Earl of
Evesham, as you all know, is one of my bravest knights, and to him I can
simply say, 'Thanks; King Richard does not forget a benefit like this.'
But such aid as I might well look for from so stout a knight as the Earl
of Evesham I could hardly have expected on the part of a mere boy like
this. It is not the first time that I have been under a debt of
gratitude to him; for it was his watchfulness and bravery which saved
Queen Berengaria from being carried off by the French in Sicily. I
deemed him too young then for the order of knighthood--although, indeed,
bravery has no age; still for a private benefit, and that performed
against allies, in name at least, I did not wish so far to fly in the
face of usage as to make him a knight. I promised him then, however,
that the first time he distinguished himself against the infidel he
should win his spurs. I think that you will agree with me, my lords,
that he has done so. Not only did he stand over me, and with great
bravery defend Sir Walter from attacks from behind, but his ready wit
saved me when even his sword and that of Sir Walter would have failed to
do so. Penned down under poor Robin I was powerless to move until our
young esquire, in an interval of slashing at his assailants, found time
to give a sharp blow together with a shout to Robin. The poor beast
tried to rise, and the movement, short as it was, enabled me to draw my
leg from under him, and then with my mace I was enabled to make a stand
until you arrived at my side. I think, my lords, that you