'And there in his diamond helmet an epitaph did they grave, And fast to the cross they fixed it o'er the tomb of that hero brave, 780 And thus do they run the letters: '(_Through this helmet a joust hath slain) This hero who bare all manhood, and_ Gamuret _was his name, As king did he rule o'er three kingdoms, in each land the Crown he wore Whom mighty princes followed--Anjou's land this hero bore, And he lost his life for the Baruch at the city of Bagdad fair._ 785 _And so high did it soar, his honour, that no knight may with him compare, Howe'er ye may test their dealings. Nor is he of woman born, (I mean of the knightly order) to whose hand he his strength had sworn. But help and true manly counsel to his friends did he steadfast give; And thro' women much grief he suffered, for he would in their favour live. 790 Baptized was he as a Christian tho' Saracens mourn him yet, (This is truth and no lie)--All his lifetime since his years were on wisdom set His strength strove for fame and honour, till he fell in his knightly pride, Wish him bliss who here lieth buried! 'Twas by treason's hand he died!_' So spake the squire, and the Waleis who heard it must weep full sore, 795 Cause hast they enow for sorrow! A living child she bore Who of men was left unaided, Herzeleide the gracious queen, With death the mother battled: her maidens were crazed I ween, Since they thought not to help their lady, for within her womb she bare Him who should be flower of all knighthood, if death did not claim him there. 800 Then there came a wise man ancient to weep with his lady's grief, And he saw how with death she struggled, and he brought to her swift relief; For he forced her teeth asunder, and betwixt her lips they pour Water, and at their tending her senses they came once more. Then she spake, and aloud she mourned him, 'My heart's dearest, Ah! where is he? 805 For in sooth my heart's deepest gladness was in Gamuret's chivalry, Yet his valour of this hath robbed me--Now his _mother_ am I and _wife_, Tho' far younger was I, for within me do I carry his flesh and life; The love that we bore to each other hath been of such flower the root, And if God shall in truth be faithful, He withholdeth not here the fruit. 810 Already too sore my sorrow for my husband so proud and brave,