As over the barrier which bounded The barrier, they reached and they rested On space that might stand him in best stead: The eruption of clatter and blaze meant, No outlet, 'mid lightning and thunder, Ay, that was the open sky o'erhead! And you saw by the flash on his forehead, "How he stands!" quoth the King: we may well swear, ("No novice, we 've won our spurs elsewhere "And so can afford the confession,) "We exercise wholesome discretion "In keeping aloof from his threshold ; "Once hold you, those jaws want no fresh hold, The sentence no sooner was uttered, Fell close to the lion, and rested: Sound the trumpet, no true knight 's a tarrier ! Flung the glove. "Your heart's queen, you dethrone her? "So should I!"-cried the King-"'t was mere vanity, "Not love, set that task to humanity!" Lords and ladies alike turned with loathing. From such a proved wolf in sheep's clothing. Not so, I; for I caught an expression As if she had tried, in a crucible, To what "speeches like gold" were reducible, And, finding the finest prove copper, She told me, "Too long had I heard "He would brave when my lip formed a breath, "When I looked on your lion, it brought "From the poor slave whose club or bare hands Dug the trap, set the snare on the sands, "With no King and no Court to applaud, 66 By no shame, should he shrink, overawed, "Yet to capture the creature made shift, "That his rude boys might laugh at the gift, "To the page who last leaped o'er the fence "Of the pit, on no greater pretence "One trial what 'death for my sake' 66 Really meant, while the power was yet mine, "Than to wait until time should define "Such a phrase not so simply as I, "Who took it to mean just 'to die.' "The blow a glove gives is but weak : "Does the mark yet discolour my cheek? "But when the heart suffers a blow, "Will the pain pass so soon, do you know?" I looked, as away she was sweeping, No doubt that a noble should more weigh His life than befits a plebeian; And yet, had our brute been Nemean (I judge by a certain calm fervour The youth stepped with, forward to serve her) -He'd have scarce thought you did him the worst turn If you whispered "Friend, what you 'd get, first earn!" And when, shortly after, she carried. Her shame from the Court, and they married, To that marriage some happiness, maugre For De Lorge, he made women with men vie, That he wooed and won how do you call her? The beauty, that rose in the sequel To the King's love, who loved her a week well. How bringing a glove brought such glory, But the wife smiled-"His nerves are grown firmer: "Mine he brings now and utters no murmur." Venienti occurrite morbo ! With which moral I drop my theorbo. |