XXI.

“Dire dealings with the fiendish race Had marked strange lines upon his face: Vigil and fast had worn him grim, His eyesight dazzled seemed and dim, As one unused to upper day; Even his own menials with dismay Beheld, Sir Knight, the grisly sire, In his unwonted wild attire; Unwonted, for traditions run, He seldom thus beheld the sun. ‘I know,’ he said—his voice was hoarse, And broken seemed its hollow force— ‘I know the cause, although untold, Why the king seeks his vassal’s hold: Vainly from me my liege would know His kingdom’s future weal or woe But yet, if strong his arm and heart, His courage may do more than art.