'Alas! that I ever saw thee,' spake, sighing, the king so true, 'Who lightly, with words of mocking, my heart would in pieces hew 130 And would fain that we part asunder! One father hath left us both A mighty store of riches, I would share with thee, nothing loth. Right dear from my heart I hold thee; red gold and jewels bright, Folk, weapons, horse, and raiment, take thou as shall seem thee right, That thou at thy will mayst journey, and thy free hand to all be known. 135 Elect do we deem thy manhood, didst thou Gylstram as birthplace own, Or thou camest here from Rankulat, yet still would that place be thine, Which thou boldest to-day in my favour; true brother art thou of mine!' 'Sir King, thou of need must praise me, so great is thy courtesy! So, courteous, thine aid be given, if thou and my mother free 140 Will share with me now your riches, I mount upward, nor fear to fall, And my heart ever beateth higher--Yet I know not how I should call This life, which my left breast swelleth! Ah! whither wouldst go mine heart? I would fain know where thou shalt guide me--'Tis time that we twain should part.' And all did the monarch give him, yea, more than the knight might crave, 145 Five chargers, picked and chosen, the best in his land he gave High-couraged, swift to battle; and many a cup of gold, And many a golden nugget, for naught would his hand withhold. Four chests for the road he gave him, with many a jewel rare Were they filled. Then the squires he took him who should for the treasure care, 150 And well were they clad and mounted; and none might his grief withhold When the knight gat him unto his mother, who her son in her arms did fold. Spake the woman, as woman grieving: 'Wilt thou tarry with me no more, King Gandein's son? Woe is me! yet my womb this burden bore And the son of my husband art thou. Is the eye of God waxed blind, 155 Or His ear grown deaf in the hearing, that my prayer doth no credence find? Is fresh sorrow to be my portion? I have buried my heart's desire, And the light of mine eyes; will He rob me, who have suffered a grief so dire, Who judgeth with righteous judgment? Then the tale it hath told a lie, That spake of His help so mighty, Who doth help unto me deny!' 160