Again that evening the
knights whom he had captured sought for him, but without hearing
any news of him. In their lodging-places, most of those who
speak of him do so with praise and admiration. The next day the
gay and doughty knights return to the contest. From the Oxford
side comes forth a vassal of great renown--his name was
Perceval of Wales. As soon as Cliges saw him start, and learned
certainly who it was, when he had heard the name of Perceval he
was very anxious to contest with him. He issued straightway from
the ranks upon a Spanish sorrel steed, and completely clad in
vermilion armour. Then all gaze at him, wondering more than ever
before, and saying that they had never seen so perfect a knight.
And the contestants without delay spur forward until their mighty
blows land upon their shields. The lances, though they were
short and stout, bend until they look like hoops. In the sight
of all who were looking on, Cliges struck Perceval so hard that
he knocked him from his horse and made him surrender without a
long struggle or much ado. When Perceval had pledged his word
then the joust began again, and the engagement became general.
Every knight whom Cliges meets he forces to earth. He did not
quit the lists that day even for a single hour, while all the
others struck at him as at a tower--individually, of course,
and not in groups of two or three, for such was not the custom
then.
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