If the twain to their love gave hearing? The tale how should I withhold, 255 I would speak, were it not unseemly that love's secrets aloud be told, For courtesy doth forbid it; and he who would tell the tale Worketh ill to himself, o'er love's dealings true hands ever draw the veil.
Now betwixt his love and his lady had the joy of Gawain waxed small, An the Duchess would have no pity, then healing might ne'er befall. 260 They who sat in the seat of the wise men, and knew many a mystic word, Kancor, and Thèbit, and Trebuchet, the smith who Frimutel's sword Once wrought, ('twas a wondrous weapon, and men of its marvels tell)-- Nay, all the skill of physicians, tho' they meant to the hero well And plied him with roots well mingled--Had a _woman_ ne'er sought his side, 265 Then vain were their skill, in his torment methinks had he surely died!
Fain would I make short the story, he the rightful root had found That helped him unto his healing, and the chain of his grief unbound, And brought light in the midst of his darkness--(Breton by his mother's side Was Gawain, and King Lot his father) thus the healing task he plied, 270 And sweet balsam for bitter sorrow was his lot till the dawn of day. Yet that which had wrought him comfort it was hid from the folk alway, But all there, both knights and ladies, they beheld him so gay and glad That their sorrow was put far from them and their heart was no longer sad. Now list how he did the message whom Gawain he had sent afar, 275 Yea unto the land of Löver, unto Bems by the fair Korka, For there he abode, King Arthur, and his lady, the gracious queen, With fair maids and a host of vassals; this the lot of the squire had been.
'Twas yet in the early morning, when his message he fain had brought, And the queen, in the chapel kneeling, on the page of her psalter thought; 280 Then the squire bent his knee before her, and he gave her a token fair, For she took from his hand a letter, and the cover must writing bear That was writ by a hand she knew well, ere yet she the name might know, From the squire, of him who had sent him, as she looked on him kneeling low. Then the queen she spake to the letter, 'Now blessed that hand shall be 285 That wrote thee; for care was my portion since the day that mine eyes might see The hand that hath writ this writing'--She wept, yet for joy was fain, And she quoth to the squire, 'Of a surety thy master shall be Gawain!'