And all the life, large in his limbs, did leap Through eager veins and sinews, fierce and red, Stung on to action; and he rose and said: "That which thou askest is right hard, but, lo! To rot here, harder. I will fight his foe. But, mark, I have no weapons and no mail; No steed against that other to avail." She laughed again; "If we must beg or hire, Fear not for that: these thou shalt lack not, sire." And so she led the way; her torch's fire Sprawling with spidery shadows at each stride The cob-webbed coignes of scowling arches wide. At length they reached an iron-studded door, Which she unlocked with one harsh key she bore 'Mid many keys bunched at her girdle; thence They issued on a terraced eminence. Below, the sea broke sounding; and the King Breathed open air again that had the sting And scent of brine, the far, blue-billowed foam: And in the east the second dawning's gloam, Since that unlucky chase, was freaked with streaks Red as the ripe stripes of an apple's cheeks. And so, within that larger light of dawn It seemed to Arthur now that he had known This maiden at his Court, and so he asked. But she, well tutored, her real person masked, And answered falsely, "Nay, deceive thee not. Thou saw'st me ne'er at Arthur's Court, I wot. For here it likes me best to sing and spin, And needle hangings, listening to the din Of ocean, sitting some high tower within. No courts or tournaments or hunts I crave, No knights to flatter me! For me--the wave, The cliffs, the sea and sky, in calm or storm; My garth, wherein I walk at morn; the charm Of ocean, redolent at bounteous noon, And sprayed with sunlight; night's free stars and moon: White ships that pass, some several every year; These ancient towers; and those wild mews to hear." "An owlet maid," the King laughed.--But untrue Was she, and of false Morgane's treasonous crew, Deep in intrigues, even for the slaying of The King, her brother, whom she did not love.-- And presently she brought him where, in state, This swarthy Damas, 'mid his wildmen sate. * * * * *