Look therefore when he calls for this in hall,Thou get to horse and follow him far away.
Cover the lions on thy shield,and see Far as thou mayest,he be nor ta'en nor slain.'
Then that same day there past into the hall A damsel of high lineage,and a brow May-blossom,and a cheek of apple-blossom,Hawk-eyes;and lightly was her slender nose 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,everyone 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 even the lonest hold were all as free From cursed bloodshed,as thine altar-cloth From that best 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,A lady of high lineage,of great lands,And comely,yea,and comelier than myself.
She lives in Castle Perilous:a river Runs in three loops about her living-place;And o'er it are three passings,and three knights Defend the passings,brethren,and a fourth And of that four the mightiest,holds her stayed 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 man Sir Lancelot whom he trusts to overthrow,Then wed,with glory:but she will not wed Save whom she loveth,or a holy life.
Now therefore have I come for Lancelot.'
Then Arthur mindful of Sir Gareth asked,'Damsel,ye know this Order lives to crush All wrongers of the Realm.But say,these four,Who be they?What the fashion of the men?'
'They be of foolish fashion,O Sir King,The fashion of that old knight-errantry Who ride abroad,and do but what they will;Courteous or bestial from the moment,such As have nor law nor king;and three of these Proud in their fantasy call themselves the Day,Morning-Star,and Noon-Sun,and Evening-Star,Being strong fools;and never a whit more wise The fourth,who alway rideth armed in black,A huge man-beast of boundless savagery.
He names himself the Night and oftener Death,And wears a helmet mounted with a skull,And bears a skeleton figured on his arms,To show that who may slay or scape the three,Slain by himself,shall enter endless night.
And all these four be fools,but mighty men,And therefore am I come for Lancelot.'
Hereat Sir Gareth called from where he rose,A head with kindling eyes above the throng,'A boon,Sir King--this quest!'then--for he marked Kay near him groaning like a wounded bull--'Yea,King,thou knowest thy kitchen-knave am I,And mighty through thy meats and drinks am I,And I can topple over a hundred such.
Thy promise,King,'and Arthur glancing 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 Slew the May-white:she lifted either arm,'Fie on thee,King!I asked for thy chief knight,And thou hast given me but a kitchen-knave.'
Then ere a man in hall could stay her,turned,Fled down the lane of access to the King,Took horse,descended the slope street,and past The weird white gate,and paused without,beside The field of tourney,murmuring 'kitchen-knave.'
Now two great entries opened from the hall,At one end one,that gave upon a range Of level pavement where the King would pace At sunrise,gazing over plain and wood;And down from this a lordly stairway sloped Till lost in blowing trees and tops of towers;And out by this main doorway past the King.
But one was counter to the hearth,and rose High that the highest-crested helm could ride Therethrough nor graze:and by this entry fled The damsel in her wrath,and on to this Sir Gareth strode,and saw without the door King Arthur's gift,the worth of half a town,A warhorse of the best,and near it stood The two that out of north had followed him:
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-smothered fire,That lookt half-dead,brake bright,and flashed as those Dull-coated things,that making slide apart Their dusk wing-cases,all beneath there burns A jewelled harness,ere they pass and fly.
So Gareth ere he parted flashed in arms.
Then as he donned the helm,and took the shield And mounted horse and graspt a spear,of grain Storm-strengthened on a windy site,and tipt With trenchant steel,around him slowly prest The people,while from out of kitchen came The thralls in throng,and seeing who had worked Lustier than any,and whom they could but love,Mounted in arms,threw up their caps and cried,'God bless the King,and all his fellowship!'
And on through lanes of shouting Gareth rode Down the slope street,and past without the gate.
So Gareth past with joy;but as the cur Pluckt from the cur he fights with,ere his cause Be cooled by fighting,follows,being named,His owner,but remembers all,and growls Remembering,so Sir Kay beside the door Muttered in scorn of Gareth whom he used To harry and hustle.
'Bound upon a quest With horse and arms--the King hath past his time--My scullion knave!Thralls to your work again,For an your fire be low ye kindle mine!
Will there be dawn in West and eve in East?
Begone!--my knave!--belike and like enow Some old head-blow not heeded in his youth So shook his wits they wander in his prime--Crazed!How the villain lifted up his voice,Nor shamed to bawl himself a kitchen-knave.
Tut:he was tame and meek enow with me,Till peacocked up with Lancelot's noticing.
Well--I will after my loud knave,and learn Whether he know me for his master yet.
