not at all wounded, and again they encounter without delay. They
play a merry tune with their swords on the resounding helms, so
that their retinue are amazed; and it seems to those who watch
them that the helmets are on fire and ablaze. And when the swords
rebound, glowing sparks jet forth as from red-hot iron which the
smith hammers on the anvil when he draws it from the furnace.
Very lavish are both the warriors in dealing blows in great
Store; and each has a good will to pay back quickly what he
borrows; neither the one nor the other ceases from paying back
capital and interest immediately, all without count and without
stint. But the duke comes on in great anger, and right wroth and
furious is he because he has not quelled and slain Cliges at the
first encounter. He deals him a great blow, marvellous and
strong, such that at his feet Cliges has fallen on one knee.

At the blow whereby Cliges fell was the emperor much amazed; he
was no whit less bewildered than if he had been behind the shield
himself. Then Fenice, so much was she amazed, can no longer
restrain herself, whatever might come of it, from crying: "God!
Aid!" as loud as ever she could. But she had called out but one
word when, forthwith, her voice failed, and she fell swooning,
and with arms outstretched so that her face was a little wounded.
Two noble barons raised her, and have held her on her feet till
she has returned to her senses. But never did any who saw her,
whatever appearance she presented, know why she swooned. Never
did any man blame her for it; rather they have all praised her;
for there is not a single one who does not believe that she would
have done the same for his sake if he had been in Cliges' place;
but in all this there is no truth. Cliges, when Fenice cried,
heard and marked her right well. The sound restored to him