'Me lists not tell you,' Balen said.
The strange knight's face grew keen and red;
'Now, might my hand but keep my head,
Even here should one of twain lie dead
⁠Were he no better armed than I.'
And Balen spake with smiling speed,
Where scorn and courtesy kept heed
Of either: 'That should little need:
⁠Not here shall either die.'

And all the cause he told him through
As one that feared not though he knew
All: and the strange knight spake anew,
Saying: 'I will part no more from you
⁠While life shall last me.' So they went
Where he might arm himself to ride,
And rode across wild ways and wide
To where against a churchyard side
⁠A hermit's harbour leant.