"Ha! Gwendolaine, by the great Holy Grail
I caught an eagle when I caught that dove,
For now you are the queen of all the dames,
Even King Constantine, who seldom marks
A lady of the court, comes to your side
And flatters you with royal courtesies,
Which you receive with far too proud a grace;
For, wit ye well, I would not let it slip,
This honour of his preference for you."

"My lord, save that I reverence him as man,
I do not care for favour of the King."

"I care, that is enough for you," said Torm.
"No knight has charger like my Roanault,
No knight has castle like my Tormalot,
And none has mistress like my Gwendolaine--
I choose that none approach her but the King."

He laughed a loud and taunting laugh, and turned
And kissed her with a loud resounding kiss.

"I think the King is safe for you, and well
For me in my advancement. Other knights
May serve you at a distance, but had best
Not seek your side too often."

Her sweet head
Lay like a lily on his mailed breast,