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e 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
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