But Arthur would not eat till all had been served,
He was somewhat childgear’d, and gay of his youth,
Life sat on him light, and the less he lovèd
Either too long to lie or too long to sit;
So busied him young blood, and his eager brain.
And another mood moved him: for much did he love
All noble renown, and ne’er would he eat
At such a dear season till someone had told him
Some story of chivalry, stirring and strange,
Some main marvel, that he might believe in,
Of high knightérrantry, or other adventure,
Or till someone besought him of a sickar knight
To join him in jousting and jeopardy of arms,
Stake life for life, and each allow other
As fortune should favour advantage to have.
So custom’d the King, where court he e’er held,
On each festive feast-day, with his free meiny
in Hall.
Therefore so proud of cheer
Stalwart he stands in stall;
Gaily at that New Year
Much mirth he makes with all.