Stretch'd his vain arms, and clasp'd the mocking air, 64 And from the rapture woke![11]--All fiercely round Group savage forms, amidst the lurid glare Of lifted torches, red; fierce tongues resound, Discordant, clamouring hoarse--as birds of prey Scared by man's footstep in some desolate bay. Mild through the throng a bright-hair'd Virgin came, 65 And the roar hush'd;--while to the Virgin's breast Soft-cooing fled the Dove. His own great name Rang through the ranks behind; quick footsteps press'd (As through arm'd lines a warrior) to the spot, And to the King knelt radiant Lancelot. Here for a while the wild and fickle song 66 Leaves the crown'd Seeker of the Silver Shield; Thy fates, O Gawaine, done to grievous wrong By the black guide perfidious, be reveal'd, Nearing, poor Knight, the Cannibalian shrine, Where Freya scents thee, and prepares to dine. Left by a bride, and outraged by a raven, 67 One friend still shared the injured captive's lot; For, as the vessel left the Cymrian haven, The faithful hound, whom he had half forgot, Swam to the ship, clomb up the sides on board, Snarl'd at the Danes, and nestled by his lord. The hirsute Captain, not displeased to see a 68 New _bonne bouche_ added to the destined roast His floating larder had prepared for Freya, Welcomed the dog, as Charon might a ghost; Allow'd the beast to share his master's platter, And daily eyed them both,--and thought them fatter! Ev'n in such straits, the Knight of golden tongue 69 Confronts his foe with arguings just and sage, Whether in pearls from deeps Druidic strung, Or link'd synthetic from the Stagirite's page, Labouring to show him how absurd the notion, That roasting Gawaine would affect the Ocean. But that enlighten'd though unlearned man, 70 Posed all the lore Druidical or Attic; "One truth," quoth he, "instructs the Sons of Ran (A seaman race are always democratic), That truth once known, all else is worthless lumber: 'THE GREATEST PLEASURE OF THE GREATEST NUMBER.' "No pleasure like a Christian roasted slowly, 71 To Odin's greatest number can be given; The will of freemen to the gods is holy; The People's voice must be the voice of Heaven. On selfish principles you chafe at capture, But what are private pangs to public rapture? "You doubt that giving you as food for Freya 72 Will have much mark'd effect upon the seas; Let's grant you right:--all pleasure's in idea; If thousands think it, you the thousands please. Your private interest must not be the guide, When interests clash majorities decide."