“Well,” said King Arthur, “I shall be ready for him, and that shall he find.”

While the king thus spoke, there came into the hall a damsel having on a mantle richly furred, which she let fall and showed herself to be girded with a noble sword.  The king being surprised at this, said, “Damsel, wherefore art thou girt with that sword, for it beseemeth thee not?” “Sir,” said she, “I will tell thee.  This sword wherewith I am thus girt gives me great sorrow and encumbrance, for I may not be delivered from it till I find a knight faithful and pure and true, strong of body and of valiant deeds, without guile or treachery, who shall be able to draw it from its scabbard, which no man else can do.  And I have but just now come from the court of King Ryence, for there they told me many great and good knights were to be ever found; but he and all his knights have tried to draw it forth in vain—­for none of them can move it.”

“This is a great marvel,” said King Arthur; “I will myself try to draw forth this sword, not thinking in my heart that I am the best knight, but rather to begin and give example that all may try after me.”  Saying this, he took the sword and pulled at it with all his might, but could not shake or move it.

“Thou needest not strive so hard, Lord,” said the damsel, “for whoever may be able to pull it forth shall do so very easily.”  “Thou sayest well,” replied the king, remembering how he had himself drawn forth the sword from the stone before St. Paul’s.  “Now try ye, all my barons; but beware ye be not stained with shame, or any treachery, or guile.”  And turning away his face from them, King Arthur mused full heavily of sins within his breast he knew of, and which his failure brought to mind right sadly.

Then all the barons present tried each after other, but could none of them succeed; whereat the damsel greatly wept, and said, “Alas, alas!  I thought in this court to have found the best knight, without shame or treachery or treason.”

Now by chance there was at that time a poor knight with King Arthur, who had been prisoner at his court for half a year and more, charged with slaying unawares a knight who was a cousin of the king’s.  He was named Balin le Savage, and had been by the good offices of the barons delivered from prison, for he was of good and valiant address and gentle blood.  He being secretly present at the court saw this adventure, and felt his heart rise high within him, and longed to try the sword as did the others; but being poor and poorly clad, he was ashamed to come forward in the press of knights and nobles.  But in his heart he felt assured that he could do better—­if Heaven willed—­than any knight among them all.

So as the damsel left the king, he called to her and said, “Damsel, I pray thee of thy courtesy, suffer me to try the sword as well as all these lords; for though I be but poorly clad, I feel assurance in my heart.”

The damsel looking at him, saw in him a likely an honest man, but because of his poor garments could not think him to be any knight of worship, and said, “Sir, there is no need to put me to any more pain or labour; why shouldst thou succeed where so many worthy ones have failed?”