Who stood a moment, ere his horse was brought, Glorying; and in the stream beneath him, shone 'Dog, thou liest. I spring from loftier lineage than thine own.' He spake; and all at fiery speed the two Immingled with Heaven's azure waver- Shock'd on the central bridge, and either Then she that watch'd him, 'Wherefore Beyond his horse's crupper and the bridge, Fell, as if dead; but quickly rose and drew, stare ye so? Thou shakest in thy fear: there yet is time: Flee down the valley before he get to And Gareth lash'd so fiercely with his horse. Who will cry shame? knight but knave.' brand Thou art not He drave his enemy backward down the Said Gareth, 'Damsel, whether knave Far liefer had I fight a score of times for thee; But truly foul are better, for they send That I shall overthrow him.' And he that bore The star, being mounted, cried from o'er the bridge, 'Akitchen-knave, and sent in scorn of me! Such fight not I, but answer scorn with scorn. His helmet as to slay him, but she shriek'd, For this were shame to do him further One nobler than thyself.' 'Damsel, thy wrong horse charge Than set him on his feet, and take his Is an abounding pleasure to me. Knight, Thy life is thine at her command. Arise And quickly pass to Arthur's hall, and say His kitchen-knave hath sent thee. Thy shield is mine-farewell; and, Gave me to guard, and such a dog am I, The savour of thy kitchen came upon me Ay, knave, because thou strikest as a A little faintlier: but the wind hath knight, Being but knave, I hate thee all the more.' 'Fair damsel, you should worship me the more, That, being but knave, I throw thine enemies.' 'Ay, ay,' she said, 'but thou shalt meet thy match.' So when they touch'd the second riverloop, 'But thou begone, take counsel, and Huge on a huge red horse, and all in mail Burnish'd to blinding, shone the Noonday Sun away, For hard by here is one that guards a The second brother in their fool's parable- Beyond a raging shallow. As if the flower, All sun; and Gareth's eyes had flying blots To whom Sir Gareth answer'd, laugh- Before them when he turn'd from watchingly, 'Parables? Hear a parable of the knave. He When I was kitchen-knave among the rest Fierce was the hearth, and one of my co-mates ing him. from beyond the roaring shallow roar'd, What doest thou, brother, in my marches here?' Own'd a rough dog, to whom he cast his And she athwart the shallow shrill'd "Guard it," and there was none to meddle Here is a kitchen-knave from Arthur's his arms.' And such a coat art thou, and thee the Hath overthrown thy brother, and hath King The hoof of his horse slipt in the stream, To garnish meats with? hath not our good King the stream Descended, and the Sun was wash'd away. Who lent me thee, the flower of kitchendom, Then Gareth laid his lance athwart the A foolish love for flowers? what stick ye So drew him home; but he that fought The pasty? wherewithal deck the boar's no more, As being all bone-batter'd on the rock, King. 'Myself when I return will plead for thee.' 'Nay, not a point: nor art thou victor here. There lies a ridge of slate across the ford; His horse thereon stumbled-ay, for I saw it. head? Flowers? nay, the boar hath rosemaries and bay. "O birds, that warble to the morning sky, O birds that warble as the day goes by, on me. 'What knowest thou of birds, lark, mavis, merle, Linnet? what dream ye when they utter forth "O Sun" (not this strong fool whom May-music growing with the growing thou, Sir Knave, Hast overthrown thro' mere unhappiness), on me. light, Their sweet sun-worship? these be for the snare (So runs thy fancy) these be for the spit, Larding and basting. See thou have not now C C Larded thy last, except thou turn and fly. But that same strength which threw the allegory.' For there beyond a bridge of treble bow, Can throw the Evening.' Then that other blew A hard and deadly note upon the horn. All in a rose-red from the west, and all'Approach and arm me!' With slow Naked it seem'd, and glowing in the broad Deep-dimpled current underneath, the knight, steps from out An old storm-beaten, russet, many-stain'd That named himself the Star of Evening, And arm'd him in old arms, and brought stood. a helm With but a drying evergreen for crest, And Gareth, 'Wherefore waits the And gave a shield whereon the Star of madman there Even Naked in open dayshine?' 'Nay,' she Half-tarnish'd and half-bright, his em cried, 'Not naked, only wrapt in harden'd skins That fit him like his own; and so ye cleave His armour off him, these will turn the blade.' blem, shone. But when it glitter'd o'er the saddle-bow, : Then the third brother shouted o'er the But up like fire he started and as oft As Gareth brought him grovelling on his knees, bridge, 'O brother-star, why shine ye here so low? Thy ward is higher up: but have ye slain The damsel's champion?' and the damsel cried, So many a time he vaulted up again; heart, Foredooming all his trouble was in vain, 'No star of thine, but shot from Arthur's Labour'd within him, for he seem'd as one heaven With all disaster unto thine and thee! Before this youth; and so wilt thou, Sir Art thou not old?' 'Old, damsel, old and hard, That all in later, sadder age begins He half despairs; so Gareth seem'd to Vainly, the damsel clamouring all the while, Old, with the might and breath of twenty | 'Well done, knave-knight, well stricken, boys.' O good knight-knave Said Gareth, 'Old, and over-bold in O knave, as noble as any of all the knights brag! Shame me not, shame me not. I have 'Sir,-and, good faith, I fain had prophesied added-Knight, Strike, thou art worthy of the Table But that I heard thee call thyself a Round knave, His arms are old, he trusts the harden'd Shamed am I that I so rebuked, reviled, Missaid thee; noble I am; and thought skin- . Strike-strike-the wind will never change again.' And Gareth hearing ever stronglier smote, But lash'd in vain against the harden’d skin, more Than loud Southwesterns, rolling ridge on ridge, The buoy that rides at sea, and dips and For ever; till at length Sir Gareth's brand hilt. the King Scorn'd me and mine; and now thy pardon, friend, For thou hast ever answer'd courteously, And wholly bold thou art, and meek withal As any of Arthur's best, but, being knave, Hast mazed my wit: I marvel what thou art.' ‘Damsel,' he said, 'you be not all to blame, Saving that you mistrusted our good King one 'I have thee now;' but forth that other Not fit to cope your quest. You said And, all unknightlike, writhed his wiry Mine answer was my deed. Good sooth! To fight for gentle damsel, he, who lets Down to the river, sink or swim, and At any gentle damsel's waywardness. O rainbow with three colours after rain, |