Count Gismond

AIX IN PROVENCE I.     Christ God who savest man, save most     Of men Count Gismond who saved me!     Count Gauthier, when he chose his post,     Chose time and place and company     To suit it; when he struck at length     My honour, twas with all his strength. II.     And doubtlessly ere he could draw     All points to one, he must have schemed!     That miserable morning saw     Few half so happy as I seemed,     While being dressed in Queens array     To give our Tourney prize away. III.     I thought they loved me, did me grace     To please themselves; twas all their deed;     God makes, or fair or foul, our face;     If showing mine so caused to bleed     My cousins hearts, they should have dropped     A word, and straight the play had stopped. IV.     They, too, so beauteous! Each a queen     By virtue of her brow and breast;     Not needing to be crowned, I mean,     As I do. Een when I was dressed,     Had either of them spoke, instead     Of glancing sideways with still head! V.     But no: they let me laugh, and sing     My birthday song quite through, adjust     The last rose in my garland, fling     A last look on the mirror, trust     My arms to each an arm of theirs,     And so descend the castle-stairs. VI.     And come out on the morning-troop     Of merry friends who kissed my cheek,     And called me Queen, and made me stoop     Under the canopy, (a streak     That pierced it, of the outside sun,     Powdered with gold its glooms soft dun), VII.     And they could let me take my state     And foolish throne amid applause     Of all come there to celebrate     My Queens-day, Oh I think the cause     Of much was, they forgot no crowd     Makes up for parents in their shroud! VIII.     However that be, all eyes were bent     Upon me, when my cousins cast     Theirs down; twas time I should present     The victors crown, but . . . there, twill last     No long time . . . the old mist again     Blinds me as then it did. How vain! IX.     See! Gismonds at the gate, in talk     With his two boys: I can proceed.     Well, at that moment, who should stalk     Forth boldly (to my face, indeed)     But Gauthier, and he thundered Stay!     And all stayed. Bring no crowns, I say! X.     Bring torches! Wind the penance-sheet     About her! Let her shun the chaste,     Or lay herself before their feet!     Shall she whose body I embraced     A night long, queen it in the day?     For Honours sake no crowns, I say! XI.     I? What I answered? As I live,     I never fancied such a thing     As answer possible to give.     What says the body when they spring     Some monstrous torture-engines whole     Strength on it? No more says the soul. XII.     Till out strode Gismond; then I knew     That I was saved. I never met     His face before, but, at first view,     I felt quite sure that God had set     Himself to Satan; who would spend     A minutes mistrust on the end? XIII.     He strode to Gauthier, in his throat     Gave him the lie, then struck his mouth     With one back-handed blow that wrote     In blood mens verdict there. North, South,     East, West, I looked. The lie was dead,     And damned, and truth stood up instead. XIV.     This glads me most, that I enjoyed     The heart of the joy, with my content     In watching Gismond unalloyed     By any doubt of the event:     God took that on him, I was bid     Watch Gismond for my part: I did. XV.     Did I not watch him while he let     His armourer just brace his greaves,     Rivet his hauberk, on the fret     The while! His foot . . . my memory leaves     No least stamp out, nor how anon     He pulled his ringing gauntlets on. XVI.     And een before the trumpets sound     Was finished, prone lay the false knight,     Prone as his lie, upon the ground:     Gismond flew at him, used no sleight     Of the sword, but open-breasted drove,     Cleaving till out the truth he clove. XVII.     Which done, he dragged him to my feet     And said Here die, but end thy breath     In full confession, lest thou fleet     From my first, to Gods second death!     Say, hast thou lied? And, I have lied     To God and her, he said, and died. XVIII.     Then Gismond, kneeling to me, asked     What safe my heart holds, though no word     Could I repeat now, if I tasked     My powers forever, to a third     Dear even as you are. Pass the rest     Until I sank upon his breast. XIX.     Over my head his arm he flung     Against the world; and scarce I felt     His sword (that dripped by me and swung)     A little shifted in its belt,     For he began to say the while     How South our home lay many a mile. XX.     So mid the shouting multitude     We two walked forth to never more     Return. My cousins have pursued     Their life, untroubled as before     I vexed them. Gauthiers dwelling-place     God lighten! May his soul find grace! XXI.     Our elder boy has got the clear     Great brow; tho when his brothers black     Full eye slows scorn, it . . . Gismond here?     And have you brought my tercel1 back?     I just was telling Adela     How many birds it struck since May.