And down a dim deep woodland way They rode between the boughs asway With flickering winds whose flash and play Made sunlight sunnier where the day Laughed, leapt, and fluttered like a bird Caught in a light loose leafy net That earth for amorous heaven had set To hold and see the sundawn yet And hear what morning heard.
There in the sweet soft shifting light Across their passage rode a knight Flushed hot from hunting as from fight, And seeing the sorrow-stricken sight Made question of them why they rode As mourners sick at heart and sad, When all alive about them bade Sweet earth for heaven's sweet sake be glad As heaven for earth's love glowed.
"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.
And there against them riding came Fleet as the lightning's laugh and flame The invisible evil, even the same They sought and might not curse by name As hell's foul child on earth set free, And smote the strange knight through, and fled, And left the mourners by the dead.
"Alas, again," Sir Balen said, "This wrong he hath done to me."
And there they laid their dead to sleep Royally, lying where wild winds keep Keen watch and wail more soft and deep Than where men's choirs bid music weep And song like incense heave and swell.
And forth again they rode, and found Before them, dire in sight and sound, A castle girt about and bound With sorrow like a spell.
Above it seemed the sun at noon Sad as a wintry withering moon That shudders while the waste wind's tune Craves ever none may guess what boon, But all may know the boon for dire.
And evening on its darkness fell More dark than very death's farewell, And night about it hung like hell, Whose fume the dawn made fire.
And Balen lighted down and passed Within the gateway, whence no blast Rang as the sheer portcullis, cast Suddenly down, fell, and made fast The gate behind him, whence he spied A sudden rage of men without And ravin of a murderous rout That girt the maiden hard about With death on either side.
And seeing that shame and peril, fear Bade wrath and grief awake and hear What shame should say in fame's wide ear If she, by sorrow sealed more dear Than joy might make her, so should die:
And up the tower's curled stair he sprang As one that flies death's deadliest fang, And leapt right out amid their gang As fire from heaven on high.
And they thereunder seeing the knight Unhurt among their press alight And bare his sword for chance of fight Stood from him, loth to strive or smite, And bade him hear their woful word, That not the maiden's death they sought;But there through years too dire for thought Had lain their lady stricken, and nought Might heal her: and he heard.
For there a maiden clean and whole In virgin body and virgin soul, Whose name was writ on royal roll, That would but stain a silver bowl With offering of her stainless blood, Therewith might heal her: so they stayed For hope's sad sake each blameless maid There journeying in that dolorous shade Whose bloom was bright in bud.
No hurt nor harm to her it were If she should yield a sister there Some tribute of her blood, and fare Forth with this joy at heart to bear, That all unhurt and unafraid This grace she had here by God's grace wrought.
And kindling all with kindly thought And love that saw save love's self nought, Shone, smiled, and spake the maid.
"Good knight of mine, good will have I To help this healing though I die."
"Nay," Balen said, "but love may try What help in living love may lie.
- I will not lose the life of her While my life lasteth." So she gave The tribute love was fain to crave, But might not heal though fain to save, Were God's grace helpfuller.
Another maid in later Mays Won with her life that woful praise, And died. But they, when surging day's Deep tide fulfilled the dawn's wide ways, Rode forth, and found by day or night No chance to cross their wayfaring Till when they saw the fourth day spring A knight's hall gave them harbouring Rich as a king's house might.
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.
"Invisible as the spirit of night That heaven and earth in depth and height May see not by the mild moon's light Nor even when stars would grant them sight, He walks and slays as plague's blind breath Slays: and my son, whose anguish here Makes moan perforce that mars our cheer, He wounded, even ere love might fear That hate were strong as death.
"Nor may my son be whole till he Whose stroke through him hath stricken me Shall give again his blood to be Our healing: yet may no man see This felon, clothed with darkness round And keen as lightning's life." Thereon Spake Balen, and his presence shone Even as the sun's when stars are gone That hear dawn's trumpet sound.
