With the band from the maiden's tresses Gawain the wound did bind, And spake o'er it spells of healing, and he bade them their comfort find In God, since He cares for all men--With blood was their pathway red, 75 And crimson the grass besprinkled as a stag had its life-blood shed; Thus he rode not astray, and in short space did Logrois before him stand-- A fortress so fair and stately, its praise was in every land. 'Twas a stately Burg well builded, and it wound the hillside round, From afar as a mighty circlet the fortress the summit crowned. 80 E'en to-day men this honour give it, its wall shall be stormed in vain, For it openeth its gates to no foeman, whose hatred soe'er it gain! And a garden lay green around it, 'twas planted with trees so fair, Olive, pomegranate, fig-tree, and the vine which its grapes doth bear, And gaily they grew and flourished--as Gawain rode that garden bright 85 He saw there what wrought him sorrow, yet filled him with all delight! A streamlet gushed forth from the hillside, there he saw that which grieved him naught, A lady so fair to look on that gladly her face he sought. The flower was she of all women, save Kondwiramur alone No fairer form nor feature might ever on earth be known. 90 So sweet and so bright to look on, so courteous and royal of mien, Orgelusé, was she, of Logrois, and men say that in her was seen The charm that desire awakeneth, a balm for the eyes of care, For no heart but was drawn toward her, and no mouth but would speak her fair! Gawain gave her courteous greeting, and he spake, 'If such grace I gain 95 That thou willest I should alight here and awhile at thy side remain, If I see that my presence please thee, then sorrow be far from me, And joy in its stead dwell with me, no knight e'er might gladder be! May I die if the truth I speak not, no woman e'er pleased me more--' 'It is well, yet methinks I knew that,' then the knight for a space she saw; 100