Then valets were at hand to run and relieve him of his
arms.
(Vv. 1244-1319.) Now we must revert to Erec, whom we left in the
field where the battle had taken place. Even Tristan, when he
slew fierce Morhot on Saint Samson's isle (13), awakened no such
jubilee as they celebrated here over Erec. Great and small, thin
and stout--all make much of him and praise his knighthood.
There is not a knight but cries: "Lord what a vassal! Under
Heaven there is not his like!" They follow him to his lodgings,
praising him and talking much. Even the Count himself embraces
him, who above the rest was glad, and said: "Sire, if you please,
you ought by right to lodge in my house, since you are the son of
King Lac. If you would accept of my hospitality you would do me
a great honour, for I regard you as my liege. Fair sire, may it
please you, I beg you to lodge with me." Erec answers: "May it
not displease you, but I shall not desert my host to-night, who
has done me much honour in giving me his daughter. What say you,
sir? Is it not a fair and precious gift?" "Yes, sire," the
Count replies; "the gift, in truth, is fine and good. The maid
herself is fair and clever, and besides is of very noble birth.
You must know that her mother is my sister.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74