When to this far-famed city Matthew came, 40 There rose great outcry through the sinful tribe, That cursed throng of Mermedonians. Soon as those servants of the Devil learned The noble saint was come unto their land, They marched against him, armed with javelins; Under their linden-shields they went in haste, Grim bearers of the lance, to meet the foe. They bound his hands; with foeman's cunning skill They made them fast--those warriors doomed to hell-- 50 With swords they pierced the jewel of his head. Yet in his heart he honored Heaven's King, Though of the drink envenomed he had drunk, Of virtue terrible; steadfast and glad, With courage unabashed, he worshiped still The Prince of glory, King of heaven above; And from the prison rose his holy voice. Within his noble breast the praise of Christ Stood fast imprinted; weeping tears of woe, With sorrowful voice of mourning he addressed 60 His Lord victorious, speaking thus in words:-- "Behold how these fierce strangers knit for me A chain of mischief, an ensnaring net. Ever have I been zealous in my heart To do Thy will in all things; now in grief The life of the dumb cattle I must lead. Thou, Lord, alone, Creator of mankind, Dost know the hidden thoughts of every heart. O Prince of glory, if it be thy will 70 That with the sword's keen edge perfidious men Put me at rest, I am prepared straightway To suffer whatsoever Thou, my Lord, Who givest bliss to that high angel-band, Shalt send me as my portion in this world, A homeless wanderer, O Lord of hosts. In mercy grant to me, Almighty God, Light in this life, lest, blinded in this town By hostile swords, I needs must longer bear Reviling words, the grievous calumny Of slaughter-greedy men, of hated foes. 80 On Thee alone, Protector of the world, I fix my mind, my heart's unfailing love; So, Father of the angels, Lord of hosts, Bright Giver of all bliss, to Thee I pray, That Thou appoint me not among my foes, Artificers of wrong forever damned, The death most grievous on this earth of Thine."