As Christine spake, with questioning glance the King
Turned to the Queen, who gave no answering sign.
Then, stretching forth his arm, he cried: "Sir knight,
I know not by what evil chance this maid
Has climbed the secret newell-stair unstayed
And reached the casket-chamber, and has borne
From thence the Helm of Strife, whereon the light
Of day has never fallen, night or morn,
For seven hundred years; but, ere you take
The doomful gift, know this: he who shall dare