ment, But Arthur mightiest on the battlefield Gareth was glad. Or if some other told, How once the wandering forester at dawn, Far over the blue tarns and hazy seas, On Caer-Eryri's highest found the King, A naked babe, of whom the Prophet spake, "He passes to the Isle Avilion, He passes and is heal'd and cannot die " Gareth was glad. But if their talk were foul, Then would he whistle rapid as any lark, Or carol some old roundelay, and so loud That first they mock'd, but after, rev erenced him. And each at either dash from either end Shame never made girl redder than Gareth joy. He laugh'd; he sprang. smoke, at once "Out of the I leap from Satan's foot to Peter's knee These news be mine, none other'snay, the King's Descend into the city:" whereon he sought The King alone, and found, and told him all. "I have stagger'd thy strong Gawain in a tilt For pastime; yea, he said it: joust can I. Make me thy knight-in secret! let my name Be hidd'n, and give me the first quest, I spring Like flame from ashes." Here the King's calm eye Fell on, and check'd, and made him flush, and bow Lowly, to kiss his hand, who answer'd him, "Son, the good mother let me know thee here, And sent her wish that I would yield thee thine. Make thee my knight? my knights are sworn to Vows Of utter hardihood, utter gentleness, And, loving, utter faithfulness in love, And uttermost obedience to the King." Then Gareth, lightly springing from his knees, "My King, for hardihood I can promise thee. For uttermost obedience make demand Of whom ye gave me to, the Seneschal, No mellow master of the meats and drinks! And as for love, God wot, I love not yet, But love I shall, God willing." And the King"Make thee my knight in secret? yea, but he, Our noblest brother, and our truest man, And one with me in all, he needs must know." "Let Lancelot know, my King, let Lancelot know, Thy noblest and thy truest" Tip-tilted like the petal of a flower; She into hall past with her page and cried, "O King, for thou hast driven the foe without, See to the foe within! bridge, ford, beset By bandits, every one that owns a tower The Lord for half a league. Why sit ye there? Rest would I not, Sir King, an I were king, Till ev'n the lonest hold were all as free From cursed bloodshed, as thine altarcloth From that blest blood it is a sin to spill." "Comfort thyself," said Arthur, "I nor mine Rest: so my knighthood keep the Vows they swore, The wastest moorland of our realm shall be Safe, damsel, as the centre of this hall. What is thy name? thy need?" "My name?" she said"Lynette my name; noble; my need, a knight To combat for my sister, Lyonors, She lives in Castle Perilous: a river Runs in three loops about her living place; And er it are three passings, and three knights Defend the passings, brethren, and a fourth And of that four the mightiest, holds her stay'd In her own castle and so besieges her To break her will, and make her wed with him: And but delays his purport till thou send To do the battle with him, thy chief And therefore am I come for Lancelot." Hereat Sir Gareth call'd from where he rose, A head with kindling eyes above the throng, "A boon, Sir King-this quest!" then -for he mark'd Kay near him groaning like a wounded bull "Yea, King, thou knowest thy kitchenknave am I, And mighty thro' thy meats and drinks am I, And I can topple over a hundred such. Thy promise, King," and Arthur glaneing at him, Brought down a momentary brow, Rough, sudden, And pardonable, worthy to be knight— Go therefore," and all hearers were amazed. But on the damsel's forehead shame, pride, wrath, Blew the May-white: she lifted either This bare a maiden shield, a casque; that held The horse, the spear; whereat Sir Gareth loosed A cloak that dropt from collar-bone to heel, A cloth of roughest web, and cast it down, And from it like a fuel-smother'd fire, That lookt half-dead, brake bright, and flash'd as those Dull-coated things, that making slide apart Their dusk-wing cases, all beneath there burns A jewel'd harness, ere they pass and fly. So Gareth ere he parted flash'd in "Knowest thou not me? thy master? I am Kay. We lack thee by the hearth." And Gareth to him, "Master no more! too well I know thee, ay The most ungentle knight in Arthur's hall." "Have at thee then," said Kay: they shock'd, and Kay Fell shoulder-slipt, and Gareth cried again, "Lead, and I follow," and fast away she fled. But after sod and shingle ceased to fly Behind her, and the heart of her good horse Was nigh to burst with violence of the beat, Perforce she stay'd, and overtaken spoke. "What doest thou, scullion, in my fellowship? Deem'st thou that I accept thee aught the mere Or love thee better, that by some device Full cowardly, or by mere unhappi ness, Thou hast overthrown and slain thy master-thou! Dish-washer and broach-turner, loon! -tell me Thou smellest all of kitchen as before." "Damsel." Sir Gareth answer'd gently," say Whate'er ye will, but whatsoe’er yo say, I leave not till I finish this fair quest, Or die therefor." "Ay, wilt thou fnish it? Sweet lord, how like a noble knight he talks! The listening rogue hath caught the manner of it. But, knave, anon thou shalt be met with, knave, And then by such a one that thou for all The kitchen brewis that was ever supt Shall not once dare to look him in the face." "I shall assay," said Gareth with a smile That madden'd her, and away she flash'd again Down the long avenues of a boundless The wood is nigh as full of thieves as leaves: If both be slain, I am rid of thee; but yet, Sir Scullion, canst thou use that spit of thine? Fight, an thou canst: I have miss'd the only way." So till the dusk that follow'd evensong Rode on the two, reviler and reviled : Then after one long slope was mounted, saw, Bowl-shaped, thro' tops of many thousand pines A gloomy-gladed hollow slowly sink To westward-in the deeps whereof a mere, Round as the red eye of an Eagle-owl, Under the half-dead sunset glared; and cries Ascended, and there brake a serving man Flying from out of the black wood, and crying, "They have bound my lord to cast him in the mere." Lie rotting, but at night let go the stone, And rise, and flickering in a grimly light Dance on the mere. Good now, ye have saved a life Worth somewhat as the cleanser of this wood. And fain would I reward thee worshipfully. What guerdon will ye?" Gareth sharply spake, "None! for the deed's sake have ĺ done the deed, In uttermost obedience to the King. But will ye yield this damisel harborage?" Whereat the Baron saying, "I well believe Ye be of Arthur's Table," a light laugh Broke from Lynette, Ay, truly of a truth, And in a sort, being Arthur's kitchenknave! But deem not I accept thee aught the more, Then Gareth, “Bound am I to right Scullion, for running sharply with thy the wrong'd, spit Down on a rout of craven foresters. So she spake. A league beyond the wood, All in a full-fair manor and a rich, His towers where that day a feast had been Held in high hall, and many a viand left, And many a costly cate, received the three. And there they placed a peacock in his pride Before the damsel, and the Baron set Gareth beside her, but at once she rose. "Meseems, that here is much discourtesy, Setting this knave, Lord Baron, at my side. Hear me this morn I stood in Ar |