An opening glade a pleasant group displays; 48 Ladies and knights amidst the woodland feast; Around them, reinless, steed and palfrey graze; To earth leaps Gawaine--"I shall dine at least." His casque he doffs--"Good knights and ladies fair, Vouchsafe a famish'd man your feast to share." Loud laugh'd a big, broad-shoulder'd, burly host; 49 "On two conditions, eat thy fill," quoth he; "Before one dines, 'tis well to know the cost-- Thou'lt wed my daughter, and thou'lt fight with me." "Sir Host," said Gawaine, as he stretch'd his platter, "I'll first the pie discuss, and then--the matter." The ladies look'd upon the comely knight 50 His arch bright eye provoked the smile it found; The men admired that vasty appetite, Meet to do honour to the Table Round; The host, reseated, sent the guest his horn, Brimm'd with pure drinks distill'd from barley corn. Drinks rare in Cymri, true to milder mead, 51 But long familiar to Milesian lays, So huge that draught, it had dispatch'd with speed Ten Irish chiefs in these degenerate days: Sir Gawaine drain'd it, and Sir Gawaine laugh'd, "Cool is your drink, though scanty is the draught; "But, pray you pardon (sir, a slice of boar), 52 Judged by your accent, mantles, beards, and wine, (If wine this be) ye come from HUERDAN'S[4] shore, To aid, no doubt, our kindred Celtic line; Ye saw the watch-fires on our hills at night And march to Carduel? read I, sirs, aright?" "Stranger," replied the host, "your guess is wrong, 53 And shows your lack of history and reflection; Huerdan with Cymri is allied too long, We come, my friend, to sever the connection: But first (your bees are wonderful for honey), Yield us your hives--in plainer words your money." "Friend," said the golden-tongued Gawaine, "methought 54 Your mines were rich in wealthier ore than ours." "True," said the host, superbly, "were they wrought! But shall Milesians waste in work their powers? Base was that thought, the heartless insult masking," "Faith," said Gawaine, "gold's easier got by asking." Upsprung the host, upsprung the guests in ire-- 55 Unsprung the gentle dames, and fled affrighted; High rose the din, than all the din rose higher The croak of that curs'd raven quite delighted; Sir Gawaine finish'd his last slice of boar, And said, "Good friends, more business and less roar. "If you want peace--shake hands, and peace, I say, 56 If you want fighting, gramercy! we'll fight." "Ho," cried the host, "your dinner you must pay-- The two conditions."--"Host, you're in the right, To fight I'm willing, but to wed I'm loth: I choose the first."--"Your word is bound to _both_: