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Clung to the shield that Lancelot lent him, crying,
Yield, yield him this again : 'tis he must fight:

I curse the tongue that all thro' yesterday
Reviled thee, and hath wrought on Lancelot now

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To lend thee horse and shield: wonders ye have done ;
Miracles ye cannot : here is glory enow

In having flung the three: I see thee maim'd,
Mangled: I swear thou canst not fling the fourth.'

' And wherefore, damsel ? tell me all ye know.
You cannot scare me ; nor rough face, or voice,
Brute bulk of limb, or boundless savagery
Appal me from the quest.'

'Nay, Prince,' she cried,

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'God wot, I never look'd upon the face,
Seeing he never rides abroad by day;
But watch'd him have I like a phantom pass
Chilling the night: nor have I heard the voice.
Always he made his mouthpiece of a page
Who came and went, and still reported him
As closing in himself the strength of ten,
And when his anger tare him, massacring
Man, woman, lad and girl — yea, the soft babe!
Some hold that he hath swallow'd infant flesh,
Monster! O Prince, I went for Lancelot first,
The quest is Lancelot's: give him back the shield.' 1310

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Said Gareth laughing, 'An he fight for this, Belike he wins it as the better man :

Thus and not else!'

But Lancelot on him urged

All the devisings of their chivalry

When one might meet a mightier than himself;
How best to manage horse, lance, sword and shield,
And so fill up the gap where force might fail
With skill and fineness. Instant were his words.

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Then Gareth, 'Here be rules. I know but one To dash against mine enemy and to win. Yet have I watch'd thee victor in the joust, And seen thy way.' Heaven help thee!' sigh'd Lynette.

Then for a space, and under cloud that grew
To thunder-gloom palling all stars, they rode
In converse till she made her palfrey halt,
Lifted an arm, and softly whisper'd, 'There.'
And all the three were silent seeing, pitch'd
Beside the Castle Perilous on flat field,
A huge pavilion like a mountain peak
Sunder the glooming crimson on the marge,
Black, with black banner, and a long black horn
Beside it hanging; which Sir Gareth graspt,
And so, before the two could hinder him,
Sent all his heart and breath thro' all the horn.
Echo'd the walls, a light twinkled; anon
Came lights and lights, and once again he blew ;
Whereon were hollow tramplings up and down
And muffled voices heard, and shadows past;
Till high above him, circled with her maids,
The Lady Lyonors at a window stood,
Beautiful among lights, and waving to him
White hands, and courtesy ; but when the Prince

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Three times had blown after long hush
The huge pavilion slowly yielded up,

at last

Thro' those black foldings, that which housed therein.
High on a nightblack horse, in nightblack arms,
With white breast-bone, and barren ribs of Death,
And crown'd with fleshless laughter — some ten steps
In the half-light- thro' the dim dawn advanced
The monster, and then paused, and spake no word.

But Gareth spake and all indignantly,
'Fool, for thou hast, men say, the strength of ten,
Canst thou not trust the limbs thy God hath given,
But must, to make the terror of thee more,
Trick thyself out in ghastly imageries

Of that which Life hath done with, and the clod,
Less dull than thou, will hide with mantling flowers
As if for pity?' But he spake no word;
Which set the horror higher: a maiden swoon'd;
The Lady Lyonors wrung her hands and wept,
As doom'd to be the bride of Night and Death;
Sir Gareth's head prickled beneath his helm ;
And even Sir Lancelot thro' his warm blood felt
Ice strike, and all that mark'd him were aghast.

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At once Sir Lancelot's charger fiercely neigh'd, And Death's dark war-horse bounded forward with him. Then those that did not blink the terror, saw That Death was cast to ground, and slowly rose. But with one stroke Sir Gareth split the skull. Half fell to right and half to left and lay. Then with a stronger buffet he clove the helm As throughly as the skull; and out from this

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Issued the bright face of a blooming boy
Fresh as a flower new-born, and crying, Knight,
Slay me not: my three brethren bad me do it,
To make a horror all about the house,

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And stay the world from Lady Lyonors.
They never dream'd the passes would be past.'
Answer'd Sir Gareth graciously to one
Not many a moon his younger, 'My fair child,
What madness made thee challenge the chief knight
Of Arthur's hall?' 'Fair Sir, they bad me do it.
They hate the King, and Lancelot, the King's friend,
They hoped to slay him somewhere on the stream,
They never dream'd the passes could be past.'

Then sprang the happier day from underground;
And Lady Lyonors and her house, with dance
And revel and song, made merry over Death,
As being after all their foolish fears
And horrors only proven a blooming boy.

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So large mirth lived and Gareth won the quest.

And he that told the tale in older times Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyonors, But he, that told it later, says Lynette.

LANCELOT AND ELAINE

ELAINE the fair, Elaine the lovable,

Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,

High in her chamber up a tower to the east

Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot ;

Which first she placed where morning's earliest ray
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam;
Then fearing rust or soilure fashion'd for it
A case of silk, and braided thereupon
All the devices blazon'd on the shield
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,
A border fantasy of branch and flower,
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.
Nor rested thus content, but day by day,
Leaving her household and good father, climb'd
That eastern tower, and entering barr'd her door,
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield,
Now guess'd a hidden meaning in his arms,
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it,

And every scratch a lance had made upon it,
Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh ;
That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle;
That at Caerleon; this at Camelot :

And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there!
And here a thrust that might have kill'd, but God

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