And Gawain he was clad so richly, with helmet and harness fair, That all must bewail his coming for naught but true folk dwelt there. 160 They cared for that lovely garden, on the greensward they stood or lay, Or sat 'neath the tents whose shadow was cool 'gainst the sunlight's ray. Yet they ceased not to bemoan him, and to grieve for his sorrow sore, Yea, man alike and maiden, and in this wise their plaint they bore, 'Alas! that our lady's cunning will to danger this knight betray! 165 Alas! that he fain will follow, for she rideth an evil way.' And many stepped fair towards him, and their arms around him threw, And bade him a friendly greeting--to an olive tree he drew, For the steed was fast beneath it, so rich was its gear, I ween, That the cost of the goodly trappings full thousand marks had been. 170 And an old knight he stood beside it, well-trimmed was his beard and grey, And upon a staff he leant him, and salt tears he wept alway. And the tears, they were shed for Gawain, as he to the steed drew near, Yet his words of kindly greeting fell soft on the hero's ear. Then he spake, 'Wilt thou hearken counsel? Lay not on this steed thine hand, 175 And herein shalt thou show thy wisdom--tho' none here thy will withstand, Yet, indeed, it were best to leave it! Accurst be our lady queen, For of many a gallant hero, I wot, she the death hath been!' Yet Gawain he would do her bidding--'Then, alas! for woe draweth near,' Spake the knight, and he loosed the halter, ''Twere best not to linger here, 180 The steed shalt thou take, and shalt leave us, and may He Who made salt the sea, In the hour of thy need, and thy peril, thy strength and thy counsel be: And see thou that our lady's beauty, it bringeth thee not to shame, She is sour in the midst of sweetness, 'mid the sunlight a shower of rain.' 'God grant it,' then quoth Sir Gawain, and straightway he took his leave 185 Of the old knight and of his comrades and sorely the folk did grieve. And the horse went a narrow pathway, and it passed thro' the garden gate, And it crossed o'er the bridge, and he found her who there did his coming wait, The queen of his heart, and the ruler was she of that land so fair, Yet altho' his heart fled towards her yet grief thro' her deed it bare. 190