XCIV
That other stood off, on his axe he rested, With shaft to the ground on the sharp head he lean’d; He look’d at the leal man that strode on the laund, Saw that doughty on bent so boldly abide him Armed, and unawed: in his heart he liked it. Then, in merrier mood, he mended his note, And a gallant word to Sir Gawain he spoke: “Sir Bold, on this bent bé not so wrathful, No man unmannerly here has misused thee, Or the covenant broke at the King’s court shapen. A cut did I promise, so count thee well paid, And I deem thee full-quit of all debt that is due. Had I dealt more nimbly, a deadlier dint Had I serv’d thee perchance and mischiev’d thee for ever. But the first of those strokes was a friendly feint, Nor meant I to mar thee; so much was thy right, By the covenant accorded that night at our court, When troth thou didst keep and wert true to thy trust, And gav’st me thy gains, as good man behoved. And the next was a menace for the morrow morning, When thou kissedst my consort, and the kisses didst yield. Twice faithful I found thee, and feints did I make instead. True man must pay his due, Then need he nothing dread; Third time thou were not true, And the harm is on thy head.