For I must follow them until I fall
Dead in some cleft of rock, and let the crabs
Hack at my armor till the Judgement Day!”
The first—“Whence come you, and for what your quest?”
“Palomides am I from Camelot,
Wretched Palomides whom dreams torment
Forever—of a cold proud little head,
A friendly hand that gives me the same love
It would to a familiar dog, a body
For which Sir Tristram and King Mark contend,