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.

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?