VI.

By fits less frequent from the crowd Was heard the burst of laughter loud For still, as squire and archer stared On that dark face and matted beard Their glee and game declined. All gazed at length in silence drear, Unbroke, save when in comrade’s ear Some yeoman, wondering in his fear, Thus whispered forth his mind:— “Saint Mary! saw’st thou e’er such sight? How pale his cheek, his eye how bright, Whene’er the firebrand’s fickle light Glances beneath his cowl! Full on our lord he sets his eye; For his best palfrey, would not I Endure that sullen scowl.”