'Sir Knave, my knight, a hermit once was (here,

Whose holy hand hath fashion'd on the rock The war of Time against the soul of man. And yon four fools have suck'd their alle(gory

From these damp walls, and taken but the (form.

Know ye not these?' and Gareth lookt and (read

In letters like to those the vexillary Hath left crag-carven o'er the streaming (Gelt

'PHOSPHORUS,' then 'MEREDIES'-'HESPE(RUS'

'Nox'-'MORS,' beneath five figures, armed (men.

Slab after slab, their faces forward all, And running down the Soul, a Shape that (fled

With broken wings, torn raiment and loose (hair,

For help and shelter to the hermit's cave, Follow the faces, and we find it. Look, Who comes behind?

For one-delay'd at'first Thro' helping back the dislocated Kay ToCamelot,then by what thereafter chanced, The damsel's headlong error thro' the (wood

Sir Lancelot, having swum the river-loops His blue shield-lions cover'd-softly drew Behind the twain, and when he saw the star Gleam, on Sir Gareth's turning to him cried, 'Stay, felon knight, I avenge me for my (friend.'

And Gareth crying prick'd against the cry: But when they closed-in a moment-at (one touch

Of that skill'd spear, the wonder of the (world

Went sliding down so easily, and fell, That when he found the grass within his (hands

He laugh'd; the laughter jarr'd upon Ly(nette:

Harshly she ask'd him, 'Shamed and over(thrown,

And tumbled back into the kitchen-knave, Why laugh ye? that ye blew your boast in (vain ?

'Nay, noble damsel, but that I, the son

I know not, all thro' mere unhappiness-
Device and sorcery and unhappiness
Out, sword; we are thrown!' And Lancelot
(answer'd, 'Prince,

O Gareth-thro' the mere unhappiness
Of one who came to help thee not to harm,
Lancelot, and all as glad to find thee whole,
As on the day when Arthur knighted him.'

Then Gareth, 'Thou-Lancelot!-thine (the hand

That threw me? And some chance to mar (the boast

Thy brethren of thee make-which could (not chance

Had sent thee down before a lesser spear, Shamed had I been and sad-O Lancelot(thou!'

Whereat the maiden, petulant, 'Lancelot, Why came ye not, when call'd? and where(fore now

Come ye, not call'd? I gloried in my knave,
Who being still rebuked, would answer still
Courteous as any knight-but now,
(knight,

if

The marvel dies, and leaves me fool'd and (trick'd,

And only wondering wherefore play'd upon: Where should be truth if not inArthur's hall, And doubtful whether I and mine be scorn'd. InArthur's presence? Knight, knave prince (and fool,

I

hate thee and for ever.'

And Lancelot said, 'Blessed be thou,Sir Gareth! knight art thou To the King's best wish. O damsel, beye wise To call him shamed, who is but overthrown? Thrown have I been, nor once, but many a (time.

Victor from vanquish'd issues at the last, And overthrower from being overthrown. With sword we have not striven; and thy (good horse

And thou are weary; yet not less I felt Thy manhood thro' that wearied lance of (thine.

Well hast thou done; for all the stream is (freed,

And thou hast wreak'd his justice on his (foes,

And when reviled, hast answer'd graciously, And makest merry, when overthrown. Prin(ce, Knight,

Hail, Knight and Prince, and of our Table (Round!'

And then when turning to Lynette he told The tale of Gareth, petulantly she said, 'Ay well-ay well-for worse than being (fool'd

Of others, is to fool one's self. A cave,
Sir Lancelot, is hard by, with meats and
(drinks

And forage for the horse, and flint for fire.
But all about it flies a honeysuckle,
Seek, till we find.' And when they sought
(and found,

Sir Gareth drank and ate, and all his life Past into sleep; on whom the maiden gazed. 'Sound sleep be thine! sound cause to sleep (hast thou.

Wake lusty! Seem I not as tender to him
As any mother? Ay, but such a one
As all day long hath rated at her child,
And vext his day, but blesses him asleep-
Good lord, how sweetly smells the honey-
(suckle

In the hush'd night, as if the world were (one

Of utter peace, and love, and gentleness! O Lancelot, Lancelot'-and she clapt her (hands

'Full merry am I to find my goodly knave Is knight and noble. See now, sworn have I, Else yon black felon had not let me pass, To bring thee back to do the battle with him. Thus an thou goest, he will fight thee first; Who doubts thee victor? so will my knight(knave

Miss the full flower of this accomplish(ment.'

Said Lancelet, 'Peradventure he, ye name, May know my shield. Let Gareth, an he (will,

Change his for mine, and take my charger, (fresh,

Not to be spurr'd, loving the battle as well As he that rides him." Lancelot-like,' she (said,

'Courteous in this, Lord Lancelot, as in all.'

And Gareth, wakening fiercely clutch'd

(the shield;

'Ramp ye lance-splintering lions, on whom (all spears

Are rotten sticks! ye seem agape to roar!
Yea, ramp and roar at leaving of your lord!-
Care not, good beasts, so well I care for you,
O noble Lancelot, from my hold on these
Streams virtue-fire-thro' one that will
Even the shadow of Lancelot under shield.
(not shame
Hence: let us go.'

Silent the silent field They traversed. Arthur's harp tho' summer(wan,

In counter motion to the clouds, allured The glance of Gareth dreaming on his liege. A star shot: 'Lo,' said Gareth, the foe falls!' An owl whoopt: 'Hark the victor pealing (there!'

Suddenly she that rode upon his left Clung to the shield that Lancelot lent him, (crying,

'Yield, yield him this again: 'tis he must (fight:

I curse the tongue that all thro' yesterday Reviled thee, and hath wrought on Lancelot (now

To lend thee horse and shield: wonders ye (have done; Miracles ye

cannot here is glory enow In having flung the three: I see the maim'd, Mangled: I swear thou canst not fling the (fourth.'

'And wherefore, damsel? tell me all ye (know.

Ye cannot scare me ; nor rough face, or voice, Brute bulk of limb, or boundless savagery Appal me from the quest.'

Nay, Prince,' she cried, 'God wot, I never look'd upon the face, Seeing he never rides abroad by day; But watch'd him have I like a phantom pass Chilling the night: nor have I heard the (voice.

Always he made his mouthpiece of a page Who came and went, and still reported him As closing in himself the strength of ten, And when his anger tare him, massacring Man, woman, lad and girl- yea, the soft babe! Some hold that he hath swallow'd infant (flesh,

Monster! O prince, I went for Lancelot first, The quest is Lancelot's: give him back the (shield.'

Said Gareth laughing, 'An he fight for this, Belike he wins it as the better man:

Thus-and not else?'

But Lancelot on him urged All the devisings of their chivalry Where one might meet a mightier than (himself;

How best to manage horse, lance, sword (and shield,

And so fill up the gap where force might fail With skill and fineness. Instant were his (words...

Then Gareth, 'Here be rules. I know but (one

To dash against mine enemy and to win. Yet have I watch'd thee victor in the joust, And seen thy way' 'Heaven help thee,' (sigh'd Lynette.

Then for a space, and under cloud that (grew

To thunder-gloom palling all stars, they

(rode

In converse till she made her palfrey halt,
Lifted an arm, and softly whisper'd, "There.'
And all the three were silent seeing, pitch'd
Beside the Castle Perilous on flat field,
A huge pavilion like a mountain peak
Sunder the glooming crimson on the marge,
Black, with black banner, and a long black
(horn

Beside it hanging; which Sir Gareth graspt,
And so, before the two could hinder him,
Sent all his heart and breath thro' all the
(horn.

Echo'd the walls; a light twinkled; anon Came lights and lights, and once again he (blew;

Whereon were hollow tramplings up and (down

And muffled voice heard, and shadows past; Till high above him, circled with her maids, The Lady Lyonors at a window stood, Beautiful among lights, and waving to him White hands, and courtesy; but when the (Prince

Three times had blown-after long hush(at last

The huge pavilion slowly yielded up, Thro' those black foldings, that which (housed there in.

High on a nightblack horse, in nightblack (arms,

With white breast-bone, and barren ribs of (Death,

And crown'd with fleshless laughter-some In the half light-thro' the dim dawn(ten steps(advanced

The monster, and then paused, and spake (no word.

But Gareth spake and all indignantly, 'Fool, for thou hast, men say, the strength (of ten,

Canst thou not trust the limbs thy God (hath given,

But must, to make the terror of thee more,
Trick thyself out in ghastly imageries
Of that which Life hath done with, and the
(clod,

Less dull than thou, will hide with man(tling flowers

As if for pity? But he spake no word; Which set the horror higher: a maiden The Lady Lyonors wrung her hands and (swoon'd; (wept,

As doom'd to be the bride of Night and (Death;

Sir Gareth's head prickled beneath his helm;

And ev'n Sir Lancelot thro' his warm blood (felt

Ice strike, and all that mark'd him were (aghast...

At once Sir Lancelot's charger fiercely (neigh❜d

At once the black horse bounded forward (with him.

Then those that did not blink the terror,saw That Death was cast to ground, and slowly (rose.

But with one stroke Sir Gareth split the (skull.

Half fell to right and half to left and lay. Then with a stronger buffet he clove the (helm

As throughly as the skull; and out from this
Issued the bright face of a blooming boy
Fresh as a flower new-born, and crying,
('Knight,

Slay me not: my three brethren bad me do it,
To make a horror all about the house,
And stay the world from Lady Lyonors.
They never dream'd the passes would be
(past.'

Answer'd Sir Gareth graciously to one
Not many a moon his younger, 'My fair
(child,

What madness made thee challenge the (chief knight

Of Arthur's hall?' 'Fair Sir, they bad me (do it.

They hate the King, and Lancelot, the King's (friend,

They hoped to slay him somewhere on the (stream,

They never dream'd the passes could be (past.'

Then sprang the happier day from under(ground;

And Lady Lyonors and her house, with (dance

And revel and song, made merry over Death,
As being after all their foolish fears
And horrors only proven a blooming boy.
So large mirth lived and Gareth won the
(quest.

And he that told the tale in older times Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyonors, But he, that told it later, says Lynette.

GERAINT AND ENID.

THE brave Geraint, a knight of Arthur's (court,

A tributary prince of Devon one

Of that great order of the Table Round,
Had married Enid, Yniol's only child,
And loved her, as he loved the light of
(Heaven.

And as the light of Heaven varies, now
At sunrise, now at sunset, now by night
With moon and trembling stars, so loved
(Geraint

To make her beauty vary day by day,
In crimsons and in purple and in gems.
And Enid, but to please her husband's eye,
Who first had found and loved her in a state
Of broken fortunes, daily fronted him
In some fresh splendour; and the Queen
(herself,

Grateful to Prince Geraint for service done, Loved her, and often with her own white (hands

Array'd and deck'd her, as the loveliest, Next after her own self, in all the court. And Enid loved the Queen, and with true (heart

Adored her, as the stateliest and the best And loveliest of all women upon earth. And seeing them so tender and so close,

Long in their common love rejoiced Geraint.
But when a rumour rose about the Queen,
Touching her guilty love for Lancelot,
Tho' yet there lived no proof, nor yet was
(heard

The world's loud whispher breaking into (storm,

Not less Geraint believed it; and there fell
A horror on him, lest his gentle wife,
Thro' that great tenderness for Guinevere,
Had suffer'd, or should suffer any taint
In nature: wherefore going to the king,
He made this pretext, that his princedom lay
Close on the borders of a territory,
Wherein were bandit earls, and caitiff
(knights,

Assassins, and all flyers from the hand
Of Justice, and whatever loathes a law:
And therefore, till the king himself should
(please

To cleanse this common sewer of all his (realm,

He craved a fair permission to depart,
And there defend his marches: and the king
Mused for a little on his plea, but, last,
Allowing it, the Prince and Enid rode,
And fifty knights rode with them, to the
(shores

Of Severn, and they past to their own land;
Where, thinking, that if ever yet was wife
True to her lord, mine shall be so to me,
He compass'd her with sweet observances
And worship, never leaving her, and grew
Forgetful of his promise to the king,
Forgetful of the falcon and the hunt,
Forgetful of the tilt and tournament,
Forgetful of his glory and his name,
Forgetful of his princedom and its cares.
And this forgetfulness was hateful to her.
And by and by the people, when they met
In twos and threes, or fuller companies,
Began to scoff and jeer and babble of him
As of a prince whose manhood was all gone,
And molten down in mere uxoriousness.
And this she gather'd from the people's
(eyes:

This too the women who attired her head,
To please her,dwelling on his boundles love,
Told Enid, and they sadden'd her the more:
And day by day she thought to tell Geraint,
But could not out of bashful delicacy;
While he that watch'd her sadden, was the
(more

Suspicious that her nature had a taint.

At last, it chanced that on a summer morn (They sleeping each by either) the new sun Beat thro' the blindless casement of the (room,

And heated the strong warrior in his dreams;
Who, moving, cast the coverlet aside,
And bared the knotted column of his throat,
The massive square of his heroic breast,
And arms on which the standing muscle
(sloped,

As slopes a wild brook o'er a little stone,
Running too vehemently to break upon it.
And Enid woke and sat beside the couch,
Admiring him, and thought within herself,
Was ever man so grandly made as he?
Then, like a shadow, past the people's talk
And accusation of uxoriousness
Across her mind, and bowing over him,
Low to her own heart piteously she said:

"O noble breast and all-puissant arms, Am I the cause, I the poor cause that men Reproach you, saying all your force is gone? I am the cause because I dare not speak And tell him what I think and what they (say.

And yet I hate that he should linger here;
I cannot love my lord and not his name.
Far liever had I gird his harness on him,
And ride with him to battle and stand by,
And watch his mightful hand striking great
(blows

At caitiffs and at wrongers of the world.
Far better were I laid in the dark earth,
Not hearing any more his noble voice,
Not to be folded more in these dear arms,
And darken'd from the high light in his
(eyes,

Than that my lord thro' me should suffer (shame

Am I so bold, and could I so stand by, And see my dear lord wounded in the strife, Or maybe pierced to death before mine eyes, And yet not dare to tell him what I think, And how men slur him, saying all his foree Is melted into mere effeminacy?

O me, I fear that I am no true wife."

Half inwardly, half audibly she spoke, And the strong passion in her made her weep True tears upon his broad and naked breast, And these awoke him, and by great mis(chance

He heard but fragments of her later words, And that she fear'd she was not a true wife.

And then he thought, In spite of all my (care,

For all my pains, poor man, for all my pains, She is not faithful to me, and I see her Weeping for some gay knight in Arthur's (hall,"

Then tho' he loved and reverenced her too (much

To dream she could be guilty of foul act, Right thro' his manful breast darted the (pang

That makes a man, in the sweet face of her Whom he loves most, lonely and miserable. At this he hurl'd his huge limbs out of bed, And shook his drowsy squire awake and (cried,

"My charger and her palfrey," ten to her,
,,I will ride forth into the wilderness;
For tho' it seems my spurs are yet to win,
I have not fall'n so low as some would wish.
And you, put on your worst and meanest
And ride with me." And Enid ask'd, amazed,
(dress
But he,,,I charge you, ask not but obey."
If Enid errs, let Enid learn her fault."
Then she bethought her of a faded silk,
A faded mantle and a faded veil,

And moving toward a cedarn cabinet,
With sprigs of summer laid between the
Wherein she kept them folded reverently
(folds,

She took them, and array'd herself therein,
Remembering when first he came on her
Drest in that dress, and how he loved her
(in it,

And all her foolish fears about the dress,
And all his journey to her, as himself
Had told her, and their coming to the
(court.

Held court at old Caerleon upon Usk.
For Arthur on the Whitsuntide before
There on a day, he sitting high in hall,
Before him came a forester of Dean,
Wet from the woods, with notice of a hart
Taller than all his fellows, milky-white,
First seen that day: these things he told
(the king.

Then the good king gave order to let blow
His horns for hunting on the morrow morn.
And when the Queen petition'd for his leave
To see the hunt, allow'd it easily..
So with the morning all the court were gone.
But Guinevere lay late into the morn,