On the willows there, we hung up our lyres

"I ... fear I knew him very little, there," says Laertes as he lets Galahad go. "He seemed to me the pinnacle and flower of manhood, when I was a boy--handsome, and clever, and well-versed in what to say. But as I entered my own youth, he was often abroad, and we saw each other only seldom; in my own manhood, I followed his example, and was little at court. I know now some of the griefs that drove him from his homeland, but he hid them well. He knew that to show a wound was to invite his brother to deepen it."