For the strife had near found its ending, and victor was Gawain's foe, 145 For his strength, it was more than Gawain's, and well-nigh had he laid him low, When the pages who rode towards them called loudly on Gawain's name, For well did they know the hero, and it grieved them to see his shame. Then he, who erewhile would fight him, of conflict would have no more, But he cast from his hand his weapon, and he cried, as he wept full sore, 150 'Accursèd am I, and dishonoured, and all blessing from me hath flown, Since my luckless hand, unwitting, so sinful a strife hath known. Methinks it is too unseemly! yea, guilty am I alway, And born 'neath a star of Ill Fortune, and forced from all bliss to stray. And the arms that to-day I carry are the same that of old I bore, 155 For they are of Ill-luck the token, e'en to-day as they were of yore. Alas! that with gallant Gawain I have foughten so fierce a fight, 'Tis _myself_ whom I here have vanquished, and my joy shall have taken flight. With the first blow I struck against him misfortune hath reached my side, And peace shall have sped far from me, and her face from my face doth hide!' 160