And while they sat at meat and spake
Words bright and kind as grace might make
Sweet for true knighthood's kindly sake,
They heard a cry beside them break
⁠The still-souled joy of blameless rest.
'What noise is this?' quoth Balen. 'Nay,'
His knightly host made answer, 'may
Our grief not grieve you though I say
⁠How here I dwell unblest.

'Not many a day has lived and died
Since at a tournay late I tried
My strength to smite and turn and ride
Against a knight of kinglike pride,
⁠King Pellam's brother: twice I smote
The splendour of his strength to dust:
And he, fulfilled of hate's fierce lust,
Swore vengeance, pledged for hell to trust,
⁠And keen as hell's wide throat.