Her tender tears of womanhood
Most woman-pure did make!"
XXVIII
– "Well done it were for thy sistèr,
Thou tellest well her tale!
But for my lady, she shall pray
I' the kirk of Nydesdale.
Not dread for me but love for me
Shall make my lady pale;
No casque shall hide her woman's tear —
It shall have room to trickle clear
Behind her woman's veil."
XXIX
– "But what if she mistook thy mind
And followed thee to strife,
Then kneeling did entreat thy love
As Paynims ask for life?"
– "I would forgive, and evermore
Would love her as my servitor,
But little as my wife.
XXX
"Look up – there is a small bright cloud
Alone amid the skies!
So high, so pure, and so apart,
A woman's honour lies."
The page looked up – the cloud was sheen —
A sadder cloud did rush, I ween,
Betwixt it and his eyes.
XXXI
Then dimly dropped his eyes away
From welkin unto hill —
Ha! who rides there? – the page is 'ware,
Though the cry at his heart is still:
And the page seeth all and the knight seeth none,
Though banner and spear do fleck the sun,
And the Saracens ride at will.
XXXII
He speaketh calm, he speaketh low, —
"Ride fast, my master, ride,
Or ere within the broadening dark
The narrow shadows hide."
"Yea, fast, my page, I will do so,
And keep thou at my side."
XXXIII
"Now nay, now nay, ride on thy way,
Thy faithful page precede.
For I must loose on saddle-bow
My battle-casque that galls, I trow,
The shoulder of my steed;
And I must pray, as I did vow,
For one in bitter need.
XXXIV
"Ere night I shall be near to thee, —
Now ride, my master, ride!
Ere night, as parted spirits cleave
To mortals too beloved to leave,
I shall be at thy side."
The knight smiled free at the fantasy,
And adown the dell did ride.
XXXV
Had the knight looked up to the page's face,
No smile the word had won;
Had the knight looked up to the page's face,
I ween he had never gone:
Had the knight looked back to the page's geste,
I ween he had turned anon,
For dread was the woe in the face so young,
And wild was the silent geste that flung
Casque, sword to earth, as the boy down-sprung
And stood – alone, alone.
XXXVI
He clenched his hands as if to hold
His soul's great agony —
"Have I renounced my womanhood,
For wifehood unto thee,
And is this the last, last look of thine
That ever I shall see?
XXXVII
"Yet God thee save, and mayst thou have
A lady to thy mind,