"And why, Sir Elvar, loiterest thou?—
Lives there no fair thy lance to claim?"
No answer Elvar made the King;
Sullen he stood without the ring.
"Forwards!" An armèd whirlwind now
On horse and horseman came!
And down goes princely Caradoc—
Down Tristan and stout Agrafrayn,—
Unscath'd, alone, amidst the field,
Great Lancelot bears his victor-shield;
The sunflower bright'ning through the shock,
And through that iron rain.
"Sound, trumpets—sound!—to South and North!
I, Lancelot of the Lake, proclaim,
That never sun and never air,
Or shone or breathed on form so fair
As hers—thrice, trumpets, sound it forth!—
Our Arthur's royal dame!"
And South and North, and West and East,
Upon the thunder-blast it flies!
Still on his steed sits Lancelot,
And even echo answers not;
Till, as the stormy challenge ceased,
A voice was heard—"He lies!"
All turn'd their mute, astonish'd gaze,
To where the daring answer came,
And lo! Sir Elvar's haughty crest!—
Fierce on the knight the gazers press'd;—
Their wands the sacred Heralds raise,—
Genevra weeps for shame.
"Sir Knight," King Arthur smiling said
(In smiles a king should wrath disguise),
"Know'st thou, in truth, a dame so fair,
Our Queen may not with her compare?
Genevra, weep, and hide thy head—
Sir Lancelot, yield the prize."
"O, grace, my liege, for surely each
The dame he serves should peerless hold,
To loyal eye and faithful breast
The loved one is the loveliest."
The King replied, "Not crafty speech—
Bold deeds—excuse the bold!
"So name thy fair, defend her right!
A list!—Ho Lancelot, guard thy shield.
Her name?"—Sir Elvar's visage fell:
"A vow forbids the name to tell."
"Now out upon the recreant Knight
Who courts yet shuns the field!
"Foul shame, were royal name disgraced
By some light leman's taunting smile!
Whoe'er—so run the tourney's laws—
Would break a lance in Beauty's cause,
Must name the Highborn and the Chaste—
The nameless are the vile."
Sir Elvar glanced, where, stern and high,
The scornful champion rein'd his steed;
Where o'er the Lists the seats were raised,
And jealous dames disdainful gazed,
He glanced, nor caught one gentle eye—
Courts grow not friends at need: