xxxviii      With both his hands he struck the gate. "Who dares to come untaken?" someone cried. He pounded once again. He couldn't wait To see his dear Etain. "Let me inside! It's cold out here!" the king-as-beggar sighed. "Who's at the gate?" he heard a voice lament. "A harpist," answered Orfeo. Replied The Porter, "This is strange. You should be sent    Away and yet we're sore in need of merriment. xxxix      "Come in and let us see what you can do." But when inside, this court to him appeared So like his own, the keep and bailey too, But gilded bright. And yet he thought it weird The towers soared so tall, too tall he feared. Then down the Porter lead him, silently. Into a gloomy hall they disappeared. But when his eyes adjusted he could see    The people who refused the Faerie King's decree. xl      They lay just as he took them. so it chanced No part of them their loved ones ever found To mourn or bury. There he saw entranced A hanging lad still by a stirrup bound, A seaweed-covered maiden who had drowned, A blue-faced man who'd choked on what he ate, A knight whose limbs were maimed by wolf or hound A body burnt, for fire was its fate,    For all of whom, to change their dare, it was too late! xli      But none of them were dead. None he could kill. Then up a spiral stair he went alone Into a hall of crystal wrought with skill. Within fair knights and maids stood still as stone. They had obeyed. All seemed as white as bone, Except the Queen who dared her black to keep. Then turning quickly he saw near the throne A grafted tree and he began to weep.    There lay Etain at rest. If it were only sleep! xlii      The King saw him approaching, "Stop! How dare You come untaken?" Bravely Orfeo Replied, "We minstrels travel everywhere. For board we sing." The King asked, "Do you know Some pleasant, wooing ballad that might show My Queen, who wears her mourning as a mask, The joys of married life? To end her woe Is all I seek. If you complete this task    Then I will grant you, minstrel, any wish you ask! xliii      "If not, my curs will have your bones to gnaw." His greyhounds did seem hungry for more meat. To please with song is hard! But when he saw The Queen so grave, he knew how great a feat To free his love, Etain, he must complete. Though filled with dread he played. No note went wrong. The monarch's hounds lay down before his feet And bowed their heads and wagged their tails so long.    Then to the tune he gently played he sang this song: