"A proud and discontented glow O'ershadowed Gyneth's brow of snow; She put the warder by:-- 'Reserve thy boon, my liege,' she said, 'Thus chaffer'd down and limited. Debased and narrow'd, for a maid, Of less degree than I. No petty chief, but holds his heir At a more honour'd price and rare Than Britain's King holds me! Although the sun-burn'd maid, for dower, Has but her father's rugged tower, His barren hill and lee.' King Arthur swore, 'By crown and sword, As belted Knight, and Britain's lord, That a whole summer's day should strive His knights, the bravest knights alive!'-- 'Recal thine oath! and to her glen Poor Gyneth can return agen; Not on thy daughter will the stain, That soils thy sword and crown, remain. But think not she will e'er be bride Save to the bravest, proved and tried; Pendragon's daughter will not fear For clashing sword or splinter'd spear, Nor shrink though blood should flow.' "He frown'd and sigh'd, the Monarch bold:-- 'I give--what I may not withhold; For not for danger, dread, or death, Must British Arthur break his faith. Too late I mark thy mother's art Hath taught thee this relentless part. Use, then, the warder, as thou wilt; But, trust me, that, if life be spilt, In Arthur's love, in Arthur's grace, Gyneth shall lose a daughter's place.' With that he turn'd his head aside, Nor brook'd to gaze upon her pride, As, with the truncheon raised, she sate The arbitress of mortal fate; Nor brook'd to mark, in ranks disposed, How the bold champions stood opposed, For shrill the trumpet-flourish fell Upon his ear like passing bell! Then first from sight of martial fray Did Britain's hero turn away. "But Gyneth heard the clangour high, As hears the hawk the partridge cry. So well accomplish'd was each knight, To strike and to defend in fight, Their meeting was a goodly sight, While plate and mail held true. The lists with painted plumes were strown, Upon the wind at random thrown, But helm and breastplate bloodless shone, It seem'd their feather'd crests alone Should this encounter rue.