Unseen till then, from out the bosky dell 84 Had leapt a huge, black-brow'd, gigantic wight; Sudden he swung the lady from her selle, And seized that kiss defrauded from the knight, While, with loud voice and gest uncouth, he swore So fair a cheek he ne'er had kiss'd before! With mickle wrath Sir Gawaine sprang from steed, 85 And, quite forgetful of his wonted parle, He did at once without a word proceed To make a ghost of that presuming carle. The carle, nor ghost nor flesh inclined to yield, Took to his club, and made the bride his shield. "Hold, stay thine hand!" the hapless lady cried, 86 As high in air the knight his falchion rears; The carle his laidly jaws distended wide, And--"Ho," he laugh'd, "for me the sweet one fears, Strike, if thou durst, and pierce two hearts in one, Or yield the prize--by love already won." In high disdain, the knight of golden tongue 87 Look'd this way, that, revolving where to smite; Still as he look'd, and turn'd, the giant swung The unknightly buckler round from left to right. Then said the carle--"What need of steel and strife? A word in time may often save a life, "This lady me prefers, or I mistake, 88 Most ladies like an honest hearty wooer; Abide the issue, she her choice shall make; Dare you, sir rival, leave the question to her? If so, resheath your sword, remount your steed, I loose the lady, and retire."--"Agreed," Sir Gawaine answer'd--sure of the result, 89 And charm'd the fair so cheaply to deliver; But ladies' hearts are hidden and occult, Deep as the sea, and changeful as the river. The carle released the fair, and left her free-- "Caw," said the raven, from the willow tree. A winsome knight all know was fair Gawaine 90 (No knight more winsome shone in Arthur's court:) The carle's rough features were of homeliest grain, As shaped by Nature in burlesque and sport; The lady look'd and mused, and scann'd the two, Then made her choice--the carle had spoken true. The knight forsaken, rubb'd astounded eyes, 91 Then touch'd his steed and slowly rode away-- "Bird," quoth Gawaine, as on the raven flies, "Be peace between us, from this blessed day; One single act has made me thine for life,-- Thou hast shown the path by which I lost a wife!" While thus his grateful thought Sir Gawaine vents, 92 He hears, behind, the carle's Stentorian cries; He turns, he pales, he groans--"The carle repents! No, by the saints, he keeps her or he dies!" Here at his stirrups stands the panting wight-- "The lady's hound, restore the hound, sir knight."