Perhaps you're right;--but peradventure not.
I give you but a hint, for half the art
Of narrative is holding back a part,
And if without reserve I gave my best
In the first canto, who would read the rest?

But now Sir Gawayne, with a troubled eye,
Looked up, and saw his lady standing by.
Quoth he: "And if this conjurer unblest
Win no acceptance of his bitter jest,
How then in after days shall Arthur's court
Confront the calumny and foul report
Of idle tongues?" The wrath in Gawayne's eyes
Hashed for an instant; then in humbler wise
He spoke on: "Yet God grant I be not blind
Where honor lights the way; for to my mind
True honor bids us shun the devil's den,
To fight God's battles in the world of men.
Who takes this challenge up, I doubt will rue it."
Quoth Elfinhart: "I'ld like to see you do it!"
She laughed a gay laugh, but by hard constraint:
Then turned and hid her face, all pale and faint,
As one might be who stabs and turns the knife
In the warm heart of one more dear than life.
She turned and Gawayne saw not; but he heard,
And felt his heart-strings tighten at her word.
"Nay, lady, if you wish it I will try;
Be your least wish my will, although I die!
Yet one thing, if I may, I fain would ask,
Before I make the venture;--if this task