While she toyed lightly with the yellow scarf
That floated from his helmet.

"Goes Sanpeur
To the great tournament to-day?" he asked.

"I think not, Torm; it never is his wont
To tilt in tourneys like to-day's."

"Think not!
I want an honest answer. Do you know?"

"No more than I have told you, my Sir Torm;
It scarce becomes his chivalry to fight
In these new tourneys of such savage guise."

"His chivalry! Now God defend! Methinks
You are too daring. What of mine, forsooth?"

"I long have told you that I thought your strength
Was worthy finer service. You well know
I like not tournaments that waste the land
By useless bloodshed; but, my Torm, you are
Your own adviser, so I say no more.
Bend down and kiss me, Torm, before you go;
Pray be not wroth with Gwendolaine, my lord."

"Kiss you I will, if you can tell me true
You will not see that coward knight to-day."