Poems Chiefly Lyric and Elegiac :: :: University of Virginia Library

‘Halt!’ cried the maiden, springing to her feet,
With looks as earnest, but with eyes as sweet
And gracious in their purity, as hers
Who on the field of Patay won her spurs,
And wore them nobly, as a woman may—
‘Halt! Ere you end the evils done to-day,
You must pass me; and that you shall not do
Till you unbind the man who goes with you;
That young man there, your prisoner.’

Then he,
Sir Ademar, the worthiest of those three
Who held their captive bound, stood forth, and gazed
Upon the damsel; silent, and amazed
At such an order, given with such pride,

By one who had no weapon at her side,
And was not born for fighting. His surprise
Ceased, as he quail'd before her keen pure eyes;
But yet he spoke, and spoke the more in wrath,
That she was no fierce lion in the path,
But a mere lamb, exalted and inspired
By some transcendent motive. ‘Art thou fired
With hope of death,’ he said, ‘from men like us,
That thou, a woman, darest to speak thus?
With this good sword, and in a moment's space,
I could transfix thee; but thy sex, thy face,
Atones for much, and saves thee. Let us pass,
And thou shalt be unharm'd.’

‘The living grass
Shall grow beneath my feet first!’ said the maid:
‘'Tis thou, not I, hast cause to be afraid
Of this supreme encounter. Dost thou think,
Because I am a woman, that I shrink
From aught that men may dare? I have no strife
With thee or thine; I claim but that man's life
Whom thou hast bound; for he belongs to me,
And I come here alone, to set him free.
Art thou not mine, Rinaldo?’

‘Yes indeed!’

The captive cried; ‘and if I were but freed
From bands and bondage, I would make it clear
That thou and I together need not fear
Such men as these.’

‘Aha!’ she said, ‘you hear—
He knows his mate; and, by the Seraphim!
I too know mine. Wilt thou surrender him?’

‘Surrender!’ said the knight, ‘it cannot be.
He is our prisoner; an enemy
Fairly unhorsed; he goes along with me
To suffer his deserts.’

‘And what are they?’
The maiden answer'd; ‘I am bold to say
Before you all, that his deserts are mine:
His fate is mine; no art nor no design
Can alter that, for he and I are one:
I am his sweetheart. If his life were done,
Mine would be finish'd too. Ye men of war!
Perchance ye all are husbands: if you are,
You know that neither force nor fraud can move
The courage and the constancy of love.’

She paused; and to Sir Ademar there came,

Spite of himself, a thrill of generous shame,
A flash of admiration, a strong sense
Of that serene superb indifference
To all but Love, that glow'd within her eyes,
And fill'd her being, seen without disguise
As in that hour of peril she stood there
So dauntless, so defiant, and so fair.

His courage was the courage of a foe,
Who gives and takes, and offers blow for blow,
And has the joy of battle for his fee:
But hers was touch'd with immortality.

Thus on the bridge they held themselves, and each
Look'd long upon the other; void of speech,
But full of strong emotion; till at length
The spirit of the man subdued his strength,
And he spoke first, but in a milder mood,
Respectful of her fearless attitude.

‘Truly, I have a wife,’ he said, ‘and she
To me is dear, as yonder man to thee:
But, could she do as thou art doing now?
Could she stand up, erect with open brow,
And face such men as we are? No; the deed
Would ill become her dainty delicate breed!

But thou art woman of another sort—
Not rear'd in cities, neither bred at court:
Thou art like her, beneath whose banner white
Myself have fought, and many another knight,
And seen Lord Talbot taken: ah, but she
Fought not for Love; she fought for Liberty;
And that, fair maid, is lesser of the twain.
She, whose bright honour never had a stain—
Who throughout life was just a peasant girl,
And kept herself, amid the stress and whirl
Of camps, as pure as any cloister'd nun—
She, of all women in the world, save one,
Has had my homage, and has sway'd my heart.
Yes, thou art like her: therefore, now depart;
Thy guerdon shall go with thee; even he
Who owes his love, his life, his all, to thee.’

So, melted by her prowess and her charms,
He left the lovers in each other's arms.