“What this dish of steel, which thou, sir,
On thine arm dost wield?”
“Dish, child! ‘Tis nor steel nor dish:
It is my silver shield!”
“Mock me not, sir knight, for silver
Moneys more than one
I have handled: this is larger
Than an oven-stone.
What may be the coat you wear, like
Iron strong and hard?”
“‘Tis my steel cuirass: from sword-strokes
Safely this can guard.”
“Were the roes thus clad in harness,
Hard to kill were they!
Tell me, were you born, lord knight, just
As you are to-day?”
Thereupon the old knight, laughing,
Shook his sides with glee.
“Then what wizard clad you thus, if
So it might not be?”