Book VI · ARTHUR, part 7 of 12

¶Now hear ye, and speak the verdict, if on this day the Table Round Its right, and its due observance had here, as aforetime found; 530 Since for many a day King Arthur in this wise had ruled his court, No knight should break bread before him, if there came of fair venture naught. But enough should have chanced this morning, and to Table they well might go, Though from Nantes might they never bear it, yet they here would its semblance show. Wide enow was the flowery meadow, nor hindered them tree or tent, 535 As they did here their monarch's bidding--for this was his heart's intent, Fair honour to give the Red Knight, and his valour, as meet, reward-- Then a silk in Acraton woven, they laid on the grassy sward, 'Twas brought from far lands of paynim, and 'twas shapen both wide and round; For ever this courteous custom mid these gallant knights was found, 540 No high seat had they of honour, but all men were equal there; And thus had King Arthur willed it, both the knights and their ladies fair At the Table Round were welcome, yea, an they might honour claim, Knight, lady, or gentle maiden, at his court all should fare the same!

¶And there, with her maiden following, came fair Guinevere the queen, 545 And many a noble princess amid her train was seen, And none but was fair to look on, and the ring it was spread so wide That within, without strife or crowding, each maid sat her knight beside. And Arthur, who ne'er knew falsehood, led the Waleis by the hand, And Kunnewaaré she walked beside him, the lady of fair Lalande, 550 From sorrow the knight had freed her--Then, with kind and friendly eyes, Looked Arthur upon the hero, and he spake to him in this wise:

¶'My queen will I bid to kiss thee, who art fair both of form and face, For ne'er, in this court, of lady I ween wouldst thou crave this grace, Since from Pelrapär thou hast ridden, and wert thou on kissing bent 555 From lips of all lips the fairest, hast thou there thy full heart's content! Yet this one grace will I pray thee, if ever there dawn the day That I find 'neath thy roof abiding, this kiss I may then repay!' 'In sooth, will I do thy bidding,' quoth the Waleis, 'both there and here!' Then unto the gallant hero stepped the Lady Guinevere, 560 And fair on the lips she kissed him, and she quoth, 'Here I pardon thee The ill thou aforetime didst me, and the sorrow thou gavest me. Thou didst leave me sorely grieving, when from hence thou didst ride away. By thy hand and thy dart my kinsman Prince Ither was slain that day!'

¶And all tear-bedewed were the eyelids of the Lady Guinevere, 565 For Prince Ither's death wrought sorrow unto many a woman dear. Now must King Klamidé seat him, on the bank by Plimizöl, And beside him sate Iofreit, who was son unto King Idöl; And 'twixt Klamidé and Gawain must the Waleis have his place-- And they know who tell the venture, none sate here of royal grace, 570 None who woman's breast had suckled, whose fame stood so high and fair, For courage and youthful beauty did the Waleis, as jewels, wear. And they owned, who there looked upon him, that many a maiden bright Saw herself in a darker mirror than the lips of this fair young knight. And on cheek and on chin his colour might well as fetters be 575 For those who should need such fetters, whose fancy flitteth free. Here might there be naught of changing--(of women my rede I trow For some they are ever wavering, and ever new friendships know!) But his look ever constant held them, till I wot well that thro' their eyes His entry he gained triumphant, and made of their hearts his prize! 580

¶Thus maiden and man beheld him, and his honour all men did praise, Till he found here the goal of sighing, and the end of his joyous days. For hither came one I must tell of, and faithful was she in truth Tho' discourteous her ways, and for sorrow, I ween, had she little ruth! And the folk for her message sorrowed--Now hear how the maid must ride, 585 Her mule it was tall as a war-horse, and branded on either side; And its nostrils were slit as is custom in the far land of Hungary, Yet her harness and bridle were costly, with rich work broidered cunningly. Soft and slow paced her mule, yet the maiden was not as a maid, I trow. What sought she? She came as 'twas fated, and sorrow must Arthur know. 590 And of wisdom forsooth this maiden might boast her a wondrous store, No tongue but she spake, French, Latin, and Paynim: in all such lore As men read in the highest heavens, Dialectics, Geometry, In all was she courteous trainèd, and her name it was called Kondrie. 'The sorceress' did men name her, nor her speech halted on its way, 595 Too ready her tongue, since rejoicing she smote into grief that day.

¶This maiden, so rich in wisdom, bare little of maiden grace, No lover e'er praised her beauty, no tongue spake her fair of face. A tempest she, joy destroying, yet of bridal cloth from Ghent Did she wear a mantle, bluer than azure the soft tints blent. 600 As a cap was it fairly fashioned, such as maidens in France shall wear, And beneath it, around her body, a silken robe she bare. And a hat of the English peacock, with silk of orient lined, And new was the hat, and the fastening, and it hung low the maid behind. And like to a bridge her message, that sorrow o'er joy had crossed, 605 And shame enough did she bring them, till laughter in tears was lost.

¶In a thick plait above her headgear had she flung her tresses back, And adown on the mule were they hanging, so long, and so coarse, and black, Nor softer to touch than the bristles, which swine on their backs shall show. And her nose as a dog's was shapen, and from out her mouth did grow 610 Two tusks as had 'seemed a wild boar, a hand's-breadth long were they; And above her eyes the eyebrows as thick as plaits they lay. And I speak but the truth, as I needs must, tho' my words lack in courtesy Since I speak of a maid, yet, for such cause, none other reproacheth me.