What time in summer, sad with so much light, The sun beats ceaselessly upon the fields; The harvesters, as famine urges them, Draw hitherward in thousands, and they wear The look of those that dolorously go In exile, and already their brown eyes Are heavy with the poison of the air.

Then when King Arthur approached near enough he perceived by certain signs that the lady was the chiefest of those three, wherefore he paid his court to her especially, saying to her: "Lady, it seems that I have been brought hitherward unto you and that you were aware of my name and estate when you sent for me.