“Nor may my son be whole till he Whose stroke through him hath stricken me Shall give again his blood to be Our healing: yet may no man see This felon, clothed with darkness round And keen as lightning’s life.” Thereon Spake Balen, and his presence shone Even as the sun’s when stars are gone That hear dawn’s trumpet sound. “That knight I know: two knights of mine, Two comrades, sealed by faith’s bright sign, Whose eyes as ours that live should shine, And drink the golden sunlight’s wine With joy’s thanksgiving that they live, He hath slain in even the same blind wise: Were all wide wealth beneath the skies Mine, might I meet him, eyes on eyes, All would I laugh to give.” His host made answer, and his gaze Grew bright with trust as dawn’s moist maze With fire: “Within these twenty days, King Pellam, lord of Lystenayse, Holds feast through all this country cried, And there before the knightly king May no knight come except he bring For witness of his wayfaring His paramour or bride. “And there that day, so soon to shine, This knight, your felon foe and mine, Shall show, full-flushed with bloodred wine, The fierce false face whereon we pine To wreak the wrong he hath wrought us, bare As shame should see and brand it.” “Then,” Said Balen, “shall he give again His blood to heal your son, and men Shall see death blind him there.” “Forth will we fare to-morrow,” said His host: and forth, as sunrise led, They rode; and fifteen days were fled Ere toward their goal their steeds had sped. And there alighting might they find For Balen’s host no place to rest, Who came without a gentler guest Beside him: and that household’s hest Bade leave his sword behind. “Nay,” Balen said, “that do I not: My country’s custom stands, God wot, That none whose lot is knighthood’s lot, To ride where chance as fire is hot With hope or promise given of fight, Shall fail to keep, for knighthood’s part, His weapon with him as his heart; And as I came will I depart, Or hold herein my right.” Then gat he leave to wear his sword Beside the strange king’s festal board Where feasted many a knight and lord In seemliness of fair accord: And Balen asked of one beside, “Is there not in this court, if fame Keep faith, a knight that hath to name Garlon?” and saying that word of shame, He scanned that place of pride. “Yonder he goeth against the light, He with the face as swart as night,” Quoth the other: “but he rides to fight Hid round by charms from all men’s sight, And many a noble knight he hath slain, Being wrapt in darkness deep as hell And silence dark as shame.” “Ah, well,” Said Balen, “is that he? the spell May be the sorcerer’s bane.”