Only "twixt the light and shade Floating memories of my maid Make me pray for Guendolen.
GUENDOLEN.
I kiss thee, new-found name! but I will never go: Your hands need never grip the hammer"d sword again, But all my golden hair shall ever round you flow, Between the light and shade from Golden Guendolen.
_Afterwards, in the Palace._
KING SEBALD.
I took my armour off, Put on king"s robes of gold; Over the kirtle green The gold fell fold on fold.
THE WITCH, _out of h.e.l.l_.
_Guendolen! Guendolen!
One lock of hair!_
GUENDOLEN.
I am so glad, for every day He kisses me much the same way As in the tower: under the sway Of all my golden hair.
KING SEBALD.
We rode throughout the town, A gold crown on my head; Through all the gold-hung streets, Praise G.o.d! the people said.
THE WITCH.
_Gwendolen! Guendolen!
Lend me your hair!_
GUENDOLEN.
Verily, I seem like one Who, when day is almost done, Through a thick wood meets the sun That blazes in her hair.
KING SEBALD.
Yea, at the palace gates, Praise G.o.d! the great knights said, For Sebald the high king, And the lady"s golden head.
THE WITCH.
_Woe is me! Guendolen Sweeps back her hair._
GUENDOLEN.
Nothing wretched now, no screams; I was unhappy once in dreams, And even now a harsh voice seems To hang about my hair.
THE WITCH.
WOE! THAT ANY MAN COULD DARE TO CLIMB UP THE YELLOW STAIR, GLORIOUS GUENDOLEN"S GOLDEN HAIR.
CONCERNING GEFFRAY TESTE NOIRE
CONCERNING GEFFRAY TESTE NOIRE
And if you meet the Canon of Chimay, As going to Ortaise you well may do, Greet him from John of Castel Neuf, and say All that I tell you, for all this is true.
This Geffray Teste Noire was a Gascon thief, Who, under shadow of the English name, Pilled all such towns and countries as were lief To King Charles and St. Denis; thought it blame
If anything escaped him; so my lord, The Duke of Berry, sent Sir John Bonne Lance, And other knights, good players with the sword, To check this thief, and give the land a chance.
Therefore we set our bastides round the tower That Geffray held, the strong thief! like a king, High perch"d upon the rock of Ventadour, Hopelessly strong by Christ! It was mid spring,
When first I joined the little army there With ten good spears; Auvergne is hot, each day We sweated armed before the barrier; Good feats of arms were done there often. Eh?
Your brother was slain there? I mind me now, A right good man-at-arms, G.o.d pardon him!
I think "twas Geffray smote him on the brow With some spiked axe, and while he totter"d, dim
About the eyes, the spear of Alleyne Roux Slipped through his camaille and his throat; well, well!
Alleyne is paid now; your name Alleyne too?
Mary! how strange! but this tale I would tell:
For spite of all our bastides, d.a.m.ned Blackhead Would ride abroad whene"er he chose to ride, We could not stop him; many a burgher bled Dear gold all round his girdle; far and wide
The villaynes dwelt in utter misery "Twixt us and thief Sir Geffray; hauled this way By Sir Bonne Lance at one time; he gone by, Down comes this Teste Noire on another day.
And therefore they dig up the stone, grind corn, Hew wood, draw water, yea, they lived, in short, As I said just now, utterly forlorn, Till this our knave and blackhead was out-fought.
So Bonne Lance fretted, thinking of some trap Day after day, till on a time he said: John of Newcastle, if we have good hap, We catch our thief in two days. How? I said.
Why, Sir, to-day he rideth out again, Hoping to take well certain sumpter mules From Carca.s.sonne, going with little train, Because, forsooth, he thinketh us mere fools;
But if we set an ambush in some wood, He is but dead: so, Sir, take thirty spears To Verville forest, if it seem you good.
Then felt I like the horse in Job, who hears
The dancing trumpet sound, and we went forth; And my red lion on the spear-head flapped, As faster than the cool wind we rode north, Towards the wood of Verville; thus it happed.
We rode a soft pace on that day, while spies Got news about Sir Geffray: the red wine Under the road-side bush was clear; the flies, The dragon-flies I mind me most, did shine
In brighter arms than ever I put on; So: Geffray, said our spies, would pa.s.s that way Next day at sundown: then he must be won; And so we enter"d Verville wood next day,
In the afternoon; through it the highway runs, "Twixt copses of green hazel, very thick, And underneath, with glimmering of suns, The primroses are happy; the dews lick