Sir Gawaine calls the emancipated hound, 91 And strives to show his own illegal ties; Explaining how free dogs, themselves unbound, With all who would be free should fraternize-- The dog look'd puzzled, lick'd the fetter'd hand, Prick'd up his ears--but would not understand. The unhappy Knight perceived the hope was o'er, 92 And did again to fate his soul resign; When hark! a footstep, and an opening door, And lo, once more, the Hierarch of the shrine, The dog his growl at Gawaine's whisper ceased, And dog and Knight, both silent, watch'd the priest. The subtle captive saw with much content 93 No sacred comrades had that reverend man; Beneath a load of sacred charcoal bent, The Priest approach'd; when Gawaine thus began: "It shames me much to see you thus bent double, And feel myself the cause of so much trouble. "Doth Freya's kitchen, ventrical and holy, 94 Afford no meaner scullion to prepare The festive rites?--on you depends it wholly To heat the oven and to dress the fare?" "To hands less pure are given the outward things, To Hierarchs only, the interior springs," Replied the Priest--"and till my task be o'er, 95 All else intruding, wrath divine incur." Sir Gawaine heard and not a sentence more Sir Gawaine said, than--"Up and seize him, Sir," Sprung at the word, the dog; and in a trice Griped the Priest's throat and lock'd it like a vice. "Pardon, my sacred friend," then quoth the Knight, 96 "You are not strangled from an idle frolic, When bit the biter, you'll confess the bite Is full of sense, mordacious but symbolic; In roasting men, O culinary brother, Learn this grand truth--'one turn deserves another!'" Extremely pleased, the oratoric Knight 97 Regain'd the vantage he had lost so long, For sore, till then, had been his just despite That Northern wit should foil his golden tongue. Now, in debate how proud was his condition, The opponent posed and by his own position! Therefore, with more than his habitual breeding, 98 Resumed benignantly the bland Gawaine, While much the Priest, against the dog's proceeding With stifling gasps protested, but in vain-- "Friend--(softly, dog; so--ho!) Thou must confess Our selfish interests bid us coalesce.-- "Unknit these cords; and, once unloosed the knot, 99 I pledge my troth to call the hound away, If thou accede--a show of hands! if not _That_ dog at least I fear must have his day." High in the air, both hands at once appear! "Carried, _nem. con._,--Dog, fetch him,--gently, here!"