Last,Gareth leaning both hands heavily Down on the shoulders of the twain,his men,Approached between them toward the King,and asked,'A boon,Sir King (his voice was all ashamed),For see ye not how weak and hungerworn I seem--leaning on these?grant me to serve For meat and drink among thy kitchen-knaves A twelvemonth and a day,nor seek my name.
Hereafter I will fight.'
To him the King,'A goodly youth and worth a goodlier boon!
But so thou wilt no goodlier,then must Kay,The master of the meats and drinks,be thine.'
He rose and past;then Kay,a man of mien Wan-sallow as the plant that feels itself Root-bitten by white lichen,'Lo ye now!
This fellow hath broken from some Abbey,where,God wot,he had not beef and brewis enow,However that might chance!but an he work,Like any pigeon will I cram his crop,And sleeker shall he shine than any hog.'
Then Lancelot standing near,'Sir Seneschal,Sleuth-hound thou knowest,and gray,and all the hounds;A horse thou knowest,a man thou dost not know:
Broad brows and fair,a fluent hair and fine,High nose,a nostril large and fine,and hands Large,fair and fine!--Some young lad's mystery--But,or from sheepcot or king's hall,the boy Is noble-natured.Treat him with all grace,Lest he should come to shame thy judging of him.'
Then Kay,'What murmurest thou of mystery?
Think ye this fellow will poison the King's dish?
Nay,for he spake too fool-like:mystery!
Tut,an the lad were noble,he had asked For horse and armour:fair and fine,forsooth!
Sir Fine-face,Sir Fair-hands?but see thou to it That thine own fineness,Lancelot,some fine day Undo thee not--and leave my man to me.'
So Gareth all for glory underwent The sooty yoke of kitchen-vassalage;Ate with young lads his portion by the door,And couched at night with grimy kitchen-knaves.
And Lancelot ever spake him pleasantly,But Kay the seneschal,who loved him not,Would hustle and harry him,and labour him Beyond his comrade of the hearth,and set To turn the broach,draw water,or hew wood,Or grosser tasks;and Gareth bowed himself With all obedience to the King,and wrought All kind of service with a noble ease That graced the lowliest act in doing it.
And when the thralls had talk among themselves,And one would praise the love that linkt the King And Lancelot--how the King had saved his life In battle twice,and Lancelot once the King's--For Lancelot was the first in Tournament,But Arthur mightiest on the battle-field--Gareth was glad.Or if some other told,How once the wandering forester at dawn,Far over the blue tarns and hazy seas,On Caer-Eryri's highest found the King,A naked babe,of whom the Prophet spake,'He passes to the Isle Avilion,He passes and is healed and cannot die'--Gareth was glad.But if their talk were foul,Then would he whistle rapid as any lark,Or carol some old roundelay,and so loud That first they mocked,but,after,reverenced him.
Or Gareth telling some prodigious tale Of knights,who sliced a red life-bubbling way Through twenty folds of twisted dragon,held All in a gap-mouthed circle his good mates Lying or sitting round him,idle hands,Charmed;till Sir Kay,the seneschal,would come Blustering upon them,like a sudden wind Among dead leaves,and drive them all apart.
Or when the thralls had sport among themselves,So there were any trial of mastery,He,by two yards in casting bar or stone Was counted best;and if there chanced a joust,So that Sir Kay nodded him leave to go,Would hurry thither,and when he saw the knights Clash like the coming and retiring wave,And the spear spring,and good horse reel,the boy Was half beyond himself for ecstasy.
So for a month he wrought among the thralls;
But in the weeks that followed,the good Queen,Repentant of the word she made him swear,And saddening in her childless castle,sent,Between the in-crescent and de-crescent moon,Arms for her son,and loosed him from his vow.
This,Gareth hearing from a squire of Lot With whom he used to play at tourney once,When both were children,and in lonely haunts Would scratch a ragged oval on the sand,And each at either dash from either end--Shame never made girl redder than Gareth joy.
He laughed;he sprang.'Out of the smoke,at once I leap from Satan's foot to Peter's knee--These news be mine,none other's--nay,the King's--Descend into the city:'whereon he sought The King alone,and found,and told him all.
'I have staggered thy strong Gawain in a tilt For pastime;yea,he said it:joust can I.
Make me thy knight--in secret!let my name Be hidden,and give me the first quest,I spring Like flame from ashes.'
Here the King's calm eye Fell on,and checked,and made him flush,and bow Lowly,to kiss his hand,who answered him,'Son,the good mother let me know thee here,And sent her wish that I would yield thee thine.
Make thee my knight?my knights are sworn to vows Of utter hardihood,utter gentleness,And,loving,utter faithfulness in love,And uttermost obedience to the King.'
Then Gareth,lightly springing from his knees,'My King,for hardihood I can promise thee.
For uttermost obedience make demand Of whom ye gave me to,the Seneschal,No mellow master of the meats and drinks!
And as for love,God wot,I love not yet,But love I shall,God willing.'
And the King 'Make thee my knight in secret?yea,but he,Our noblest brother,and our truest man,And one with me in all,he needs must know.'
'Let Lancelot know,my King,let Lancelot know,Thy noblest and thy truest!'
And the King--
'But wherefore would ye men should wonder at you?
Nay,rather for the sake of me,their King,And the deed's sake my knighthood do the deed,Than to be noised of.'
Merrily Gareth asked,'Have I not earned my cake in baking of it?
Let be my name until I make my name!
My deeds will speak:it is but for a day.'
So with a kindly hand on Gareth's arm Smiled the great King,and half-unwillingly Loving his lusty youthhood yielded to him.
Then,after summoning Lancelot privily,'I have given him the first quest:he is not proven.
