The {033}charger, which was fleet and fair to view, started off like an
arrow from its bow. So that, as Jaufry left the castle-gates, he hoped
he yet should overtake the knight; and therefore cried aloud to two men
on the way:
“Good fellows, if you can, tell me the road just taken by the lord who
left the castle yonder even now. If naught prevent you, point me out the
way.”
One of those men replied:
“Speak you of him whose armour was so bright?”
“The same,” quoth Jaufry.
“He is on before; you start too late, sir knight, to catch him up.”
“By Heaven!” murmured Jaufry, much aggrieved, “he cannot flee so far,
or sink so deep, but I will reach {034}him. I'll seek him the world
through, where land and sea are found, and will discover his retreat
even beneath the earth!”
This said, he held his course; and spurring, came to a broad causeway
where fresh prints of horses' hoofs appeared upon the dust.
“Methinks,” said Jaufry, “that a knight ere-while hath passed this way:
so I will follow up this selfsame road while thus the trail is seen.”
Putting his horse into an ambling pace, he rode on all that day without
a town or castle being met. At eventide he still continued on, when a
loud cry, followed by din of arms and clash of steel on helm, suddenly
rose from out the heavy shade.
Jaufry spurred readily towards the spot, and cried:
“Who are ye, lords, who at this hour do fight? Reply, since eyes of man
cannot behold you.”
But no one replied; and when, as fits a bold and venturous man, he
reached the place whence came the clashing noise, the fight was over and
the din had ceased. Whilst then he listened, seeing naught, and at the
silence wondering, there rose from out the shade deep sighs and moans;
when, stooping forward, he made out {035}a knight so sadly hurt the soil
was bathed in blood.
“Knight,” cried Jaufry to the corpse, “it grieves me not to know thy
slayer, or whether thou wert wrong or whether right: thou art now dead;
but if I can, I even will learn why, and by whose hand.
“Knight,” he exclaimed, “speak, and inform me for what, and by whom,
thou hast been so sorely used.” The wounded man could not e'en stir his
lips or move a limb; his arms grew stiff; and, with two fearful groans,
he yielded up the ghost.
[Illustration: 051]
“Knight,” then cried Jaufry to the corpse, “it grieves me not to know
thy slayer, or whether thou wert wrong or whether right: thou now art
dead; but if I can, I even will learn why and by whose hand.” He then
departed, and resumed his way, now on the trot and now at ambling pace,
stopping at intervals to bend his ear and give a look around. For some
time nothing met his ear or eye; but, after having ridden for a space, a
noise of battle once again assailed him. Steel, wood, and iron met with
such dread force, it seemed as though the thunder vexed the air, and
that this din proclaimed the bursting storm. At once, then, to the side
from whence it came Sir Jaufry turned his horse; and, with his shield
about his neck, his lance in rest prepared, he spurred with ardour on,
for, in his mood, it seemed as though he ne'er should learn who slew the
knight and who were they that fought. On, then, to {036}that affray he
hotly came; but to behold, stretched stiff upon the ground, a knight all
armed, whose casque and head beside had by a single blow been cloven
to the teeth, while his steel hauberk was all red with gore. Jaufry his
visor raised, and touched him with his lance; but, seeing no life was
there, exclaimed with grief:
“Heaven! shall I, then, never know whose hand hath slain these knights?”
Full of impatience he resumed his course; and when he far had ridden,
lit upon another knight, whose body was so shattered with his hurts that
blood and life were oozing fast away. Moved deeply at his cries and sad
laments, Jaufry drew near, and kindly asked what hand had dealt such
measure to himself and the two others slain, and which side was moreover
in the wrong?
“Alas!” the wounded man made answer with a sigh, “I will explain to you
the simple truth. It is Estout, the master of Verfeil, who has reduced
us to the state you see, to feed his pride. This knight is known so
quarrelsome and fierce, that without mercy and without a cause he doth
assault all comers far and near.”
“Tell {037}me,” said Jaufry, “was he wrong in this?”
“I will, my lord, with Heaven's help, and that without e'en lying by
a word. I and my friends were going to our rest, when Estout to my
castle-gates, hard by, rode up, and bade us high defiance. Had it been
day, we should have tarried long ere venturing forth; for we did know
him master of such skill, that few as yet could e'er make head against
him,--so merciless beside, as never in his lifetime ever known to grant
his foeman grace: seeing him not, the bridge was lowered, and at once
was passed. He, having drawn us far upon the road,--the better for the
treacherous ends he had,--suddenly stopped, and turning, with lance
couched on him who pressed him nearest, stretched him dead upon the
earth.
“By this time we had recognised Estout, and turned our horses' heads;
but he with threatening words pursued us close, and reaching my
companion, slew him with a blow. He then his rage concentrated on me,
and with such fierceness, thinking my end come, I missed my aim, the
lance just glancing from his shield; but he with one stroke bore me
from my horse, and three times struck me as I helpless lay, so that,
{038}good faith, he little life hath left. This, my good lord, is how
the thing hath happed.”
“Know you,” asked Jaufry, full of thought, “the road he took, and where
he may be met?”
“My lord, I cannot tell; but little do I doubt that you will find him
earlier than you wish. Haste, then, to fly such presence; for believe,
you cannot gain thereby aught else but iron: an you take my advice,
you'll change your route.”
“Change my route, say ye?” quoth Sir Jaufry; “no, by my troth; nay more,
I will but follow him the closer up; and, should I catch this lord, we
part not, he may rest assured, without a struggle; and without learning,
too, which of us twain doth bear the stouter heart, the stronger arm, or
wield the better sword.”
He took his leave, with these words, of the knight; the latter prayed
him to pass by his keep and send him aid from thence.
“I will not fail,” said Jaufry.
Towards the manor of the dying man he took his way, and after some brief
space he saw high towers and two squires well armed, who mounted guard
before a raised drawbridge.
“Friends,” {039}he exclaimed to them, “God save you both!”
“And you, my lord, from every harm,” they said.
“I have sad message for you,” added Jaufry, “and bad news. Your lord is
lying yonder sorely hurt; and his two comrades are both slain. Estout
de Verfeil has misused them thus. So hasten to your lord, who wants your
help.”
He then commended them to God, and parted in all haste. Jaufry resumed
his way, now trotting hard and now at ambling pace, until he reached a
valley deep and dark. There he beheld the blaze of a great fire, round
which were met a numerous company. Trusting he might get tidings there
of Estout and of Taulat,--for truly counted he on fighting both,--he
straightway rode to where the fire was, and found there figures that
awaked surprise. Lords in rich vestments roasted a wild-boar; meanwhile,
by dwarfs, stunted and out of shape, the spit was turned.
“Good sirs,” said Jaufry civilly, “could I but learn from some of you
where I may meet a lord I have followed this night through?”
“Friend,” exclaimed one in answer, “it may be we can tell you when we
know his name.”
“I {040}seek,” said Jaufry, “Estout de Verfeil, and Taulat called the
Lord of Rugimon.”
“Friend,” said the knight with courtesy, “from hence depart, and that
with greatest speed; for should Estout but chance to meet you here thus
armed, I would not give a denier for your life. He is so valiant and
so stout of limb, that never yet hath he encountered foe who could make
head against him. All these you see around are knights of proof, and can
meet sturdy blows; natheless he hath subdued us all, and we are forced
to follow him on foot wherever choice or venture leads him on. We're now
engaged preparing him his food; so I advise you to depart at once.”
“Not so, indeed,” said Jaufry; “I came not here to flee. Before I turn
my face, my shield shall be destroyed, my hauberk riven, and my arm so
bruised it cannot wield a blade.”
Whilst thus they held discourse, behold Estout arrived full spur, and,
at the sight of Jaufry, cried aloud: “Who art thou, vassal, who thus
dar'st to come and meddle with my men?”
“And who are you,” said Jaufry in reply, “who use such pleasant words?”
“Thou shalt know that anon.”
“Are {041}you Estout?”
“I am, indeed.”
“Full long have I been seeking you throughout this weary night, without
e'er stopping in my course or closing eye.”
“And for what end hast thou thus sought me out?”
“For that I wish to know why thou hast slain the three knights on the
road; which act I take to be a sin and wrong.”
“And is it for this that thou art hither come? Thou wouldst have better
done to stay behind, for to thy ruin do I meet thee here; thou shalt
this instant lose that head of thine, or follow me on foot like yonder
knights who patter humbly at my horse's heels. Deliver, therefore, up
to me thy shield, thy breastplate, and thy sword, and the bay horse that
brought thy body here.”
“My care shall be to guard them with my life,” quoth Jaufry. “'Twas the
good king bestowed this courser on me when he armed me knight. As to the
shield, thou shalt not have it whole; nor e'en the hauberk, without
rent or stain. Thou tak'st me for a child, whom thy poor threats can
frighten: the shield, the hauberk, and the horse, are not yet thine; but
if they {042}please thee, try a bout to win them. As to thy threats, I
scorn them: 'threats,' saith the proverb, 'often cover fear.'”
Estout drew off his horse at these bold words, and Jaufry nerved him to
sustain the shock; then ran they at each other with their utmost speed.
Estout struck Jaufry on the shield's bright boss, and with such mighty
strength, that through the riven metal went the lance, breaking the
mail which guarded his broad chest, and grazing e'en the skin. Jaufry
meanwhile had struck his foe in turn, and with so just an aim, he lost
at once his stirrups and his seat, and rolled halfstunned upon the
ground.
He rose again full quickly, pale with rage, and came with upraised sword
towards Jaufry. The latter, wishing his good horse to spare, at once
leapt on the sod and raised his shield. 'Twas just in time: Estout, in
his fierce rage, brandished his sword with both his hands, and made it
thunder down with such effect the shield was cloven to the arm.
“St. Peter!” murmured Jaufry, “thou dost covet this poor shield; still,
if naught stay me, it shall cost thee dear.”
Suiting to such words the act, upon Estout's bright casque {043}he then
let fly so fierce a downward stroke, that fire issued therefrom. But the
good helm of proof was not a whit the worse. With gathering fury Estout
came again, and with one stroke pared from Sir Jaufry's shield the
double rim, full half a palm of mail, and the left spur, which was cut
through as the blade reached the ground.
Wondering at the vigour of his dreadful foe, Jaufry, on his side, struck
a second time his burnished helm; and with such force, his sword
in twain was broken, yet left it not upon the trusty steel even the
slightest dent.
“Heaven!” thought Jaufry, “what doth this portend? confounded be the
hand that helmet wrought, whereon my blade hath spent itself in vain!”
Then Estout, uttering a fearful cry as he beheld Sir Jaufry's sword in
two, flew straight towards him, and in his turn struck the son of Dovon
on the helm, smashing the visor as the blow came down. Had he not
raised in time the remnant of his shield, which that fell stroke for aye
destroyed, the combat had been done.
[Illustration: 061]
“Knight,” said Sir Jaufry, “thou dost press me sore; and I, good sooth,
must be indeed bewitched; strike {044}as I will upon that helm of thine,
I cannot crack its shell.”
As thus he spoke, he launched a desperate blow with what was left him of
his blade; which, falling on the casque of his stout foe like hammer on
an anvil, for the time deprived him both of sight and sound. With dizzy
eye and tottering step, Estout, thinking to strike at Jaufry, whom he
would have cloven to the heel had he received the blow, let fall his
sword with such unbounded rage, it struck into the ground, and buried
half its blade. Before he could withdraw it, the young knight, casting
aside the battered shield and broken sword, seized with both arms Estout
about the waist, and that with such good-will, his very ribs were heard
to crack within. To cast him to the ground, undo his helm, and seize his
sword to strike off his foe's head, were but an instant's work.
Estout, who moved not, cried with feeble voice:
“Mercy, good knight! O, slay me not, but take of me such ransom as thou
wilt; I own that thou hast vanquished me.”
“Thou shalt have mercy,” Jaufry then replied, “an thou do'st that which
I shall now command.”
“It {045}shall be done most willingly, my lord; thou canst not ask a
thing I will not do.”
“In the first place,” said Jaufry, “thou shalt go and yield thyself
a captive to King Arthur, with all these knights, to whom thou must
restore what thou hast ta'en from them; and thou shalt then relate to
that good king how I have thus o'ercome thee in the fight.”
“I will do so full willingly, by Heaven!” Estout replied.
“And now,” said Jaufry, “give to me thine arms; for mine have been all
hacked and hewed by thee.”
“Agreed, my lord. Give me your hand: the bargain shall be kept; and well
can I aver, without a lie, that ne'er did knight boast armour such
as mine. Many's the blow may fall upon this helm, yet never pass it
through; no lance can dim this shield or pierce this mail; and for this
sword, so hard is it of temper, iron nor bronze nor steel resists its
edge.”
Jaufry then donned these valuable arms; and whilst he buckled on
the shining helm and burnished shield and girded the good sword, the
captives of Estout came up to do him homage. They were two score in
number, all of price and lofty lineage, who addressed him, 'mid warm
smiles of joy:
“Fair {046}lord, what answer will ye that we make when good King Arthur
asks the name of him who sets us free?”
“You will reply that Jaufry is his name,--Jaufry the son of Dovon.”
This said, he ordered that his horse be led; for still he burned to
overtake Taulat. And though Estout and all the knights pressed him
awhile to tarry, yet he stayed neither to eat nor take the least repose:
from squires' hands receiving shield and lance, he took his leave, and
wandered on his way.
The day came on both clear and beautiful; a bright sun rose on fields
humect with dew; charmed with the spring-tide and the matin hour, the
birds sang merrily beneath the verdant shade and conned their latin
notes. * Jaufry, natheless, went straight upon his road, still bent on
finding Taulat; for to him nor peace nor rest nor pleasure can e'er come
till that proud lord be met.
* E l'jom e clars e bel gentz
E l'solelz leva respondents
Lo matin que span la rosada,
E l's auzels per la matinada
E per lo temps qn'es en dousor,
Chantan desobre la verdor
E s'alegron en or latin....