This maiden, so rich in wisdom, bare little of maiden grace, No lover e'er praised her beauty, no tongue spake her fair of face. A tempest she, joy destroying, yet of bridal cloth from Ghent Did she wear a mantle, bluer than azure the soft tints blent. 600 As a cap was it fairly fashioned, such as maidens in France shall wear, And beneath it, around her body, a silken robe she bare. And a hat of the English peacock, with silk of orient lined, And new was the hat, and the fastening, and it hung low the maid behind. And like to a bridge her message, that sorrow o'er joy had crossed, 605 And shame enough did she bring them, till laughter in tears was lost. In a thick plait above her headgear had she flung her tresses back, And adown on the mule were they hanging, so long, and so coarse, and black, Nor softer to touch than the bristles, which swine on their backs shall show. And her nose as a dog's was shapen, and from out her mouth did grow 610 Two tusks as had 'seemed a wild boar, a hand's-breadth long were they; And above her eyes the eyebrows as thick as plaits they lay. And I speak but the truth, as I needs must, tho' my words lack in courtesy Since I speak of a maid, yet, for such cause, none other reproacheth me. And ears as a bear had Kondrie, and never the eye might trace 615 A shy glance of love, or of longing, I ween in that wondrous face. And a scourge did she bear, and the handle was a ruby, of silk the cord; And the hands of this winsome maiden like a lion's were sharply clawed, And the skin as an ape's was dusky, and the nails they were not too light, And I ween, for her maiden favours, but seldom would heroes fight! 620 So rode she unto the circle, and her coming did sorrow bring, And fair joy did she put in peril--Then turned she unto the king, (And Kunnewaaré sat beside him, his table-mate was she, And fair Guinevere, his consort, a queen bare her company.) Thus in royal state King Arthur as monarch sat that day-- 625 To the Breton king rode Kondrie, and in French did she speak alway; And tho' I in another language than hers shall the venture tell, Yet I rede ye to wit that the telling it pleaseth me none too well!