“And not till years shall round their goal May this man’s wound thou hast given be whole.” And Balen, stricken through the soul By dark-winged words of doom and dole, Made answer: “If I wist it were No lie but sooth thou sayest of me, Then even to make a liar of thee Would I too slay myself, and see How death bids dead men fare.”
And Merlin took his leave and passed And was not: and the shadow as fast Went with him that his word had cast, Too fleet for thought thereof to last: And there those brethren bade King Mark Farewell: but fain would Mark have known The strong knight’s name who had overthrown The pride of Launceor, when it shone Bright as it now lay dark.
And Balan for his brother spake, Saying: “Sir, albeit him list not break The seal of secret time, nor shake Night off him ere his morning wake, By these two swords he is girt withal May men that praise him, knights and lords, Call him the knight that bears two swords, And all the praise his fame accords Make answer when they call.”
So parted they toward eventide; And tender twilight, heavy-eyed, Saw deep down glimmering woodlands ride Balen and Balan side by side, Till where the leaves grew dense and dim Again they spied from far draw near The presence of the sacred seer, But so disguised and strange of cheer That seeing they knew not him.
“Now whither ride ye,” Merlin said, “Through shadows that the sun strikes red, Ere night be born or day be dead?” But they, for doubt half touched with dread, Would say not where their goal might lie. “And thou,” said Balen, “what art thou, To walk with shrouded eye and brow?” He said: “Me lists not show thee now By name what man am I.”
“Ill seen is this of thee,” said they, “That thou art true in word and way Nor fain to fear the face of day, Who wilt not as a true man say The name it shames not him to bear.” He answered: “Be it or be it not so, Yet why ye ride this way I know, To meet King Ryons as a foe, And how your hope shall fare.
“Well, if ye hearken toward my rede, Ill, if ye hear not, shall ye speed.” “Ah, now,” they cried, “thou art ours at need What Merlin saith we are fain to heed.” “Great worship shall ye win,” said he, “And look that ye do knightly now, For great shall be your need, I trow.” And Balen smiled: “By knighthood’s vow, The best we may will we.”