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 assert 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.