Dear my lords,
I raise a cup to your good fellowship.
If, as may chance, the semblance of division
Or the beginning of an enmity
Set any of you askance at one another,
Let it be melted in this cordial wine.
Shall it not? If a word has flown, forget it,
If any old wound be open, let it close,
And mould to-night your fellowship anew.
Drink with me all: “King Arthur’s fellowship!”