But however that may be, since you
wish me to inform you of my name, it shall not be kept from you:
my name is Gawain the son of King Lot." As soon as my lord Yvain
heard that, he was amazed and sorely troubled; angry and grief-
stricken, he cast upon the ground his bloody sword and broken
shield, then dismounted from his horse, and cried: "Alas, what
mischance is this! Through what unhappy ignorance in not
recognising each other have we waged this battle! For if I had
known who you were, I should never have fought with you; but,
upon my word, I should have surrendered without a blow." "How is
that?" my lord Gawain inquires, "who are you, then?" "I am
Yvain, who love you more than any man in the whole wide world,
for you have always been fond of me and shown me honour in every
court. But I wish to make you such amends and do you such honour
in this affair that I will confess myself to have been defeated."
"Will you do so much for my sake?" my gentle lord Gawain asks
him; "surely I should be presumptuous to accept any such amends
from you. This honour shall never be claimed as mine, but it
shall be yours, to whom I resign it." "Ah, fair sire, do not
speak so. For that could never be. I am so wounded and
exhausted that I cannot endure more.
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