shield and all his other harness
removed, and ordered his white arms to be brought out, in which he had
first been dubbed a knight, while the other arms and the steeds were
fastened outside by the door. Those who notice this realise and exclaim
that they have all been defeated and undone by one single man; for each
day he has disguised himself with a different horse and set of armour,
thus seeming to change his identity; for the first time now they noticed
this. And my lord Gawain proclaimed that he never saw such a champion,
and therefore he wished to make his acquaintance and learn his name,
announcing that on the morrow he himself will be the first at the rally
of the knights. Yet, withal, he makes no boast; on the other hand,
he says that he fully expects the stranger knight will have all the
advantage with the lance; but it may be that with the sword he will not
be his superior (for with the sword Gawain had no master). Now it is
Gawain's desire to measure his strength on the morrow with this strange
knight who changes every day his arms, as well as his horse and harness.
His moultings will soon be numerous if he continues thus each day, as
is his custom, to discard his old and assume new plumage. Thus, when he
thought of the sword and the lance respectively. Gawain disparaged and
esteemed highly the prowess of his foe. The next day he sees Cliges come
back whiter than the fleur-delis, his shield grasped tight by the inside
straps and seated on his white Arab steed, as he had planned the
night before. Gawain, brave and illustrious, seeks no repose on the
battleground, but spurs and rides forward, endeavouring as best he may
to win honour in the fray, if he can find an opponent. In a moment they
will both be on the field. For Cliges had no desire to hold back when he
overheard the words of the men who said: "There goes Gawain, who is no
weakling either on foot or ahorse. He is a man whom no one will attack."
When Cliges hears these words, he rushes toward him in mid-field; they
both advance and come together with a swifter leap than that of the
stag who hears the sound of the dogs as they come baying after him. The
lances are thrust at the shields, and the blows produce such havoc that
the lances split, crack and break clear down to the butt-end, and the
saddle-bows behind give away, and the girths and breast-straps snap.
Both come to earth at once and draw their naked swords, while the others
gather round to watch th