And they could let me take my state And foolish throne amid applause Of all come there to celebrate My queen's-day--Oh I think the cause Of much was, they forgot no crowd Makes up for parents in their shroud!
Howe'er that be, all eyes were bent Upon me, when my cousins cast Theirs down; 'twas time I should present The victor's crown, but ... there, 'twill last No long time ... the old mist again Blinds me as it did then. How vain!
See! Gismond's 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!
"Bring torches! Wind the penance-sheet About her! Let her cleave to right, Or lay herself before our feet! Shall she who sinned so bold at night Unblushing, queen it in the day? For honor's sake, no crowns, I say!"
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-engine's whole Strength on it? No more says the soul.
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 minute's mistrust on the end?
He strode to Gauthier, in his throat Gave him the lie, then struck his mouth With one back-handed blow that wrote In blood men's verdict there. North, South, East, West, I looked. The lie was dead, And damned, and truth stood up instead.
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.
Did I not watch him while he let His armorer 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.
And e'en before the trumpet's sound Was finished, prone lay the false knight, Prone as his lie, upon the ground: Gismond flew at him, used no sleight O' the sword, but open-breasted drove, Cleaving till out the truth he clove.
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 God's second death! Say, hast thou lied?" And, "I have lied To God and her," he said, and died.