The wild king flushed with pride and shame,
Answering: 'I know not either name
Of those that there against us came
And withered all our strength like flame:
⁠The knight that bears two swords is one,
And one his brother: not on earth
May men meet men of knightlier worth
Nor mightier born of mortal birth
⁠That hail the sovereign sun.'

And Arthur said: 'I know them not;
But much am I for this, God wot,
Beholden to them: Launcelot
Nor Tristram, when the war waxed hot
⁠Along the marches east and west,
Wrought ever nobler work than this.'
'Ah,' Merlin said, 'sore pity it is
And strange mischance of doom, I wis,
⁠That death should mar their quest.