In autumn, when the wind and sea Rejoice to live and laugh to be, And scarce the blast that curbs the tree And bids before it quail and flee The fiery foliage, where its brand Is radiant as the seal of spring, Sounds less delight, and waves a wing Less lustrous, life's loud thanksgiving Puts life in sea and land.
High hope in Balen's heart alight Laughed, as from all that clamorous fight He passed and sought not Arthur's sight, Who fain had found his kingliest knight And made amend for Balen's wrong.
But Merlin gave his soul to see Fate, rising as a shoreward sea, And all the sorrow that should be Ere hope or fear thought long.
"O where are they whose hands upbore My battle," Arthur said, "before The wild Welsh host's wide rage and roar?
Balen and Balan, Pellinore, Where are they?" Merlin answered him:
"Balen shall be not long away From sight of you, but night nor day Shall bring his brother back to say If life burn bright or dim."
"Now, by my faith," said Arthur then, "Two marvellous knights are they, whose ken Toward battle makes the twain as ten, And Balen most of all born men Passeth of prowess all I know Or ever found or sought to see:
Would God he would abide with me, To face the times foretold of thee And all the latter woe."
For there had Merlin shown the king The doom that songs unborn should sing, The gifts that time should rise and bring Of blithe and bitter days to spring As weeds and flowers against the sun.
And on the king for fear's sake fell Sickness, and sorrow deep as hell, Nor even might sleep bid fear farewell If grace to sleep were won.
Down in a meadow green and still He bade the folk that wrought his will Pitch his pavilion, where the chill Soft night would let not rest fulfil His heart wherein dark fears lay deep.
And sharp against his hearing cast Came a sound as of horsehoofs fast Passing, that ere their sound were past Aroused him as from sleep.
And forth he looked along the grass And saw before his portal pass A knight that wailed aloud, "Alas That life should find this dolorous pass And find no shield from doom and dole!"
And hearing all his moan, "Abide, Fair sir," the king arose and cried, "And say what sorrow bids you ride So sorrowful of soul."
"My hurt may no man heal, God wot, And help of man may speed me not,"
The sad knight said, "nor change my lot."
And toward the castle of Melyot Whose towers arose a league away He passed forth sorrowing: and anon, Ere well the woful sight were gone, Came Balen down the meads that shone, Strong, bright, and brave as day.
And seeing the king there stand, the knight Drew rein before his face to alight In reverence made for love's sake bright With joy that set his face alight As theirs who see, alive, above, The sovereign of their souls, whose name To them is even as love's own flame To enkindle hope that heeds not fame And knows no lord but love.
And Arthur smiled on him, and said, "Right welcome be thou: by my head, I would not wish me better sped.
For even but now there came and fled Before me like a cloud that flies A knight that made most heavy cheer, I know not wherefore; nor may fear Or pity give my heart to hear Or lighten on mine eyes.
"But even for fear's and pity's sake Fain were I thou shouldst overtake And fetch again this knight that spake No word of answering grace to make Reply to mine that hailed him: thou, By force or by goodwill, shalt bring His face before me." "Yea, my king,"
Quoth Balen, "and a greater thing Were less than is my vow.
"I would the task required and heard Were heavier than your sovereign word Hath laid on me:" and thence he spurred Elate at heart as youth, and stirred With hope as blithe as fires a boy:
And many a mile he rode, and found Far in a forest's glimmering bound The man he sought afar around And seeing took fire for joy.
And with him went a maiden, fair As flowers aflush with April air.
And Balen bade him turn him there To tell the king what woes they were That bowed him down so sore: and he Made woeful answer: "This should do Great scathe to me, with nought for you Of help that hope might hearken to For boot that may not be."
And Balen answered: "I were loth To fight as one perforce made wroth With one that owes by knighthood's oath One love, one service, and one troth With me to him whose gracious hand Holds fast the helm of knighthood here Whereby man's hope and heart may steer:
I pray you let not sorrow or fear Against his bidding stand."
The strange knight gazed on him, and spake:
"Will you, for Arthur's royal sake, Be warrant for me that I take No scathe from strife that man may make?
Then will I go with you." And he Made joyous answer: "Yea, for I Will be your warrant or will die."
And thence they rode with hearts as high As men's that search the sea.
And as by noon's large light the twain Before the tented hall drew rein, Suddenly fell the strange knight, slain By one that came and went again And none might see him; but his spear Clove through the body, swift as fire, The man whose doom, forefelt as dire, Had darkened all his life's desire, As one that death held dear.
And dying he turned his face and said, "Lo now thy warrant that my head Should fall not, following forth where led A knight whose pledge hath left me dead.
This darkling manslayer hath to name Garlon: take thou my goodlier steed, Seeing thine is less of strength and speed, And ride, if thou be knight indeed, Even thither whence we came.
"And as the maiden's fair behest Shall bid you follow on my quest, Follow: and when God's will sees best, Revenge my death, and let me rest As one that lived and died a knight, Unstained of shame alive or dead."
And Balen, wrung with sorrow, said, "That shall I do: my hand and head I pledge to do you right."
And thence with sorrowing heart and cheer He rode, in grief that cast out fear Lest death in darkness yet were near, And bore the truncheon of the spear Wherewith the woful knight lay slain To her with whom he rode, and she Still bare it with her, fain to see What righteous doom of God's might be The darkling manslayer's bane.
