And it befell him thus, the following dawn, As he was wandering on a dew-drenched lawn, Glad with the freshness and elastic health Of sky and earth, that lavished all their wealth Of heady winds and racy scents,--a knight And gentle lady met him, gay bedight, With following of six esquires; and they Held on gloved wrists the hooded falcon gray, And rode a-hawking o'er the leas of Gore From Ontzlake's manor, where he languished; sore Hurt in the lists, a spear wound in his thigh: Who had besought--for much he feared to die-- This knight and his fair lady, as they rode To hawk near Chariot, Morgane's abode, That they would beg her in all charity To come to him (for in chirurgery Of all that land she was the greatest leach), And her for his recovery beseech. So, Accolon saluted, they drew rein, And spake their message, for, right over fain Were they toward their sport,--that he would bear Petition to that lady. But, not there Was Arthur's sister, as they well must wot; But now a sennight lay at Camelot, The guest of Guenevere; and with her there Four other queens of Farther Britain were: Isoud of Ireland, she of Cornwall Queen, King Mark's wife,--who right rarely then was seen At Court for jealousy of Mark, who knew Her to that lance of Lyonesse how true Since mutual quaffing of a philter; while How guilty Guenevere on such could smile:-- She of Northgales and she of Eastland; and She of the Out Isles Queen. A fairer band, For sovereignty and love and loveliness, Was not in any realm to grace and bless. So Accolon informed them. In distress Then quoth that knight: "Ay? see how fortune turns And varies like an April day, that burns Now welkins blue with calm; now scowls them down, Revengeful, with a black storm's wrinkled frown. For, look! this Damas, who so long hath lain A hiding vermin, fearful of all pain, Dark in his bandit towers by the deep, Wakes from a five years' torpor and a sleep, And sends despatch a courier to my lord, Sir Ontzlake, with, 'To-morrow, with the sword, Earl Damas and his knight, at point of lance, Decides the issue of inheritance, Body to body, or by champion.'-- Right hard to find such ere to-morrow dawn. Though sore bestead lies Ontzlake, if he could, He would arise and save his livelihood."