All dazzling red was his armour, the eye from its glow gleamed red; 550 Red was his horse swift-footed, and the plumes that should deck its head, Of samite red its covering; redder than flame his shield; Fair-fashioned and red his surcoat; and the spear that his hand would wield Was red, yea, the shaft and the iron; and red at the knight's desire Was his sword, yet the blade's fair keenness was not dimmed by the raging fire. 555 And the King of Cumberland, stately, in his mailèd hand did hold A goblet, with skill engraven, and wrought of the good red gold-- From the Table Round had he reft it--All red was his shining hair Yet white was his skin, and kindly his speech to the lad and fair. 'Now hail to thy fair young body, that in sooth a true woman bare, 560 Yea, blessèd is she thy mother! Ne'er saw I a face so fair, And the light of thine eyes, I think me, is kindled by love alone, And Love shall in thee be victor, as by thee Love is overthrown! And in thee is the joy of woman, whose bliss finds in thee its goal, And for thee shall the load of sorrow weigh heavy upon the soul-- 565 Now do me this grace I pray thee, an thou wend thee unto the town Bear greeting from me to King Arthur, and his heroes of high renown, And say that no fleeting vision am I who now speak with thee, But here I abide, and await him who thinketh to joust with me!' 'And never a man will wonder: to the Table Round I came 570 And there, in the heroes' presence to my kingdom would I lay claim, And with hasty hand I raised it, this cup, and the wine out-poured The robes of the queen besprinkled, as she sat there beside her lord. This I did as the custom olden of one who would claim his right For better I thought the wine-cup, than the straw-wisp all alight, 575 For its smoke perchance had soiled me, thus I chose it not' spake the king, 'Nor for robbery rode I hither, my crown doth forbid such thing-- Say thou to the queen that the wine-drops, they fell on her 'gainst my will Where those heroes sit, nor remember, nor their knighthood as meet fulfil. Whether kings they shall be or princes o'er-long doth he thirst their king! 580 This cup, why delay to fetch it? Their fame it hath taken wing!'