Equinox I (04).pdf

94
THE HIGH HISTORY OF GOOD
He woke. Before him stands and grins
A motley hunchback. “Knave!” quoth he,
“Hast seen the Beast? The quest that wins
The loftiest prize of chivalry?”
“Sir Knight,” he answers, “hast thou seen
Aught of that Beast? How knowest thou, then,
That it is ever or hath been,
Sir Palamede the Saracen?”
Sir Palamede was well awake.
“Nay! I deliberate deep and long,
Yet find no answer fit to make
To thee. The weak beats down the strong;
The fool's cap shames the helm. But thou!
I know thee for the shade that haunts
My way, sets shame upon my brow,
My purpose dims, my courage daunts.
Then, since the thinker must be dumb,
At least the knight may knightly act:
The wisest monk in Christendom
May have his skull broke by a fact.”
With that, as a snake strikes, his sword
Leapt burning to the burning blue;
And fell, one swift, assured award,
Stabbing that hunchback through and through.