Equinox I (04).pdf

100
THE HIGH HISTORY OF GOOD
Thief of my arms, my crest, my quest,
My name, now meetest thou thy shame.
See, with this whip I lash thee back,
Back to the kennel whence there came
So false a hound.” “Good knight, in sooth,”
Answered Sir Palamede, “not I
Presume to asset the idlest truth;
And here, by this good ear and eye,
I grant thou art Sir Palamede.
But—try the first and final test
If thou or I be he. Take heed!”
He backed his horse, covered his breast,
Drove his spurs home, and rode upon
That knight. His lance-head fairly struck
The barred strength of his morion,
And rolled the stranger in the muck.
“Now, by God's death!” quoth Palamede,
His sword at work, “I will not leave
So much of thee as God might feed
His sparrows with. As I believe
The sweet Christ’s mercy shall avail,
So will I not have aught for thee;
Since every bone of thee may rail
Against me, crying treachery.