Book XIII · KLINGSOR, part 10 of 10

¶And there rode unto his pavilion full many whose hearts were sore For the weary days since he left them, and the love they to Gawain bore. And the wounds of Kay had been healèd since he jousted by Plimizöl, And he looked on the wealth of Gawain, and with envy his heart was full, And he quoth, 'Now, King Lot, his father, my monarch's near of kin, 765 Ne'er thought with such pomp to shame us, nor a camp of his own would win.' (For ever did he bethink him how Gawain would no vengeance take On the knight who so sorely smote him, when his right arm in joust he brake,) 'God worketh for some His wonders,--Who gave Gawain this woman folk?' And the words they were scarce a friend's words that Kay in his anger spoke. 770

¶Of the honour his friend hath won him the true knight is ever glad, But the faithless, aloud he crieth, and his heart ever waxeth sad When the heart of his friend rejoiceth, and he needs must his gladness see. Bliss and honour had fallen to Gawain; and, if one would more favoured be, I know not what thing he may wish for! Thus ever the evil mind 775 Is with envy filled, while the brave man his comfort and joy doth find When honour shall seek his comrade, and shame from his face doth flee-- Gawain ne'er forgat his knighthood, and from falsehood was ever free; And thus it was right and fitting that men on his bliss should gaze, And gladness and fair rejoicing henceforward should crown his days. 780 In what wise for the folk that followed did the knight of Norway care, Alike for his knights and ladies? Not ill was, methinks, their fare. And Arthur and all his people they looked on King Lot's fair son, And I trow well they greatly marvelled at the riches his hand had won. Now the evening meal was ended, and 'twas time for the folk to sleep, 785 And little I grudge their slumber! A guard thro' the night they keep, And lo! at the early morning, ere the dawning had waxed to-day, Came a folk in goodly armour, and the men of Logrois were they. And they read their helmet's token by the light of the waning moon, On this side lay the host of Arthur, and his camp had they passed full soon, 790 And they came to the goodly circle where Gawain and his men should lie-- And, methinks, who such gallant succour by the might of his hand could buy Were reckoned of men a hero! Then Gawain bade his Marshal find A place for the host to camp on, but, such was their leader's mind, He deemed it best that their circle apart from the rest should be, 795 And 'twas even the hour of noontide ere all were lodged fittingly.

¶Then Arthur, the noble monarch, a message would straightway send; Unto Rosche Sabbins, and the city, a squire on his way should wend To King Gramoflanz should he speak thus, 'Since conflict the king doth pray, And he lusteth to fight my nephew, the strife shall he not delay, 800 For Sir Gawain is fain to meet him--But bid him to meet us here, As a gallant man do we know him, were he other, 'twould cost him dear!'

¶And the messenger of King Arthur he rode on his errand fain-- Then forth, with Lischois and Sir Florand, rode the gallant knight, Gawain, And he prayed them to show them to him who from many a land afar 805 Had ridden for love's high service, and had fought in his lady's war. And he met them and gave them greeting in such wise that the heroes knew Sir Gawain for courteous lover, and faithful knight and true.

¶With that again he left them, and in secret his way he sped, And he gat him again to his chamber, and he armed him from foot to head; 810 He would know if his wounds were healèd so that never a scar should pain, And his limbs would he test, since so many, both maiden and man were fain To look on the strife, had they wisdom they should see if his dauntless hand Might even to-day, as aforetime, the victor's crown command. A squire did he bid to bring him his charger, Gringuljet, 815 And he sprang to the saddle lightly and the horse to a gallop set. He would try both himself and his charger, if ready for strife the twain-- Ah! woe is me for his journey! so rode he upon the plain, And so had his Fortune willed it, that a knight his bridle drew By the side of the river Sabbins, and ye know that knight so true, 820 And a rock, men well might call him, for manhood and courage high, And no knight might stand before him, and falsehood his heart did fly. And yet so weak was his body that no burden it bare of wrong, Yea, a hand's-breadth had been too heavy, and a finger-length too long! And, I ween, of this gallant hero of old time ye oft must hear, 825 For my tale hath come to its root-tree, and draweth its goal anear.