II.v The departing

He spurred the steed with the spurs, and sprang on his way
So strongly sparks flew from the stones in his wake.
All sighed in heart who saw that seemly man go,
In care for their comely knight. "By Christ, it is hard
That thou, lord, shalt be lost, that art of life noble!
To find his equal upon earth, in faith, is not easy.
The wise and wary course would have shown more wit:
To have dubbed that dear man a duke, and detained him.
A loved leader of men in land he might be,
And better that than this wasted death,
Beheaded by an elvish man, for angry pride.
Who ever knew any king to take such counsel
From knights who cavil at Christmas games?"
Much was the warm water that welled from their eyes
When that seemly man sought forth from safety
That day.
He made no abode,
But swiftly went his way.
Many wild ways he rode,
In tales as I heard say.