Then the hostess she passed to her chamber, yea, e'en as the meal was o'er; And a couch did they spread for the hero, and love to the labour bore. 550 And the host to his guest spake kindly, 'Now here shall thy sleep be sweet, Thou shalt rest thro' the night that cometh, to thy need shall such rest be meet.' Then he spake to his men, and he bade them they should hence from the hall away, And the noble youths his pages, their couches around his lay Each one with the head toward his master, for so was the custom good; 555 And tapers so tall and flaming alight round the chamber stood. Yet ill did it please the hero that so long were the hours of night, For the Moorish queen so dusky, had vanquished his heart of might. And he turned as a willow wand bendeth, till his joints they were heard to crack, The strife and the love that he craved for he deemed he o'er-long did lack. 560 And his heart-beats they echoed loudly, as it swelled high for knighthood fain, And he stretched himself as an archer who bendeth a bow amain. And so eager his lust for battle that sleepless the hero lay Till he saw the grey light of morning, though as yet it should scarce be day. And his chaplain for Mass was ready, and to God and the knight they sing, 565 For so did he give commandment. Then he bade them his harness bring, And he rode where a joust should wait him, and that self-same hour would ride A horse that could charge the foeman, and turn swiftly to either side, And answer to bit and bridle if its rider would backward draw. And the watchers, both man and woman, his helm in the gateway saw, 570 And the anchor shone fair upon it; and no man ere this might see So wondrous fair a hero, for like to a god was he!