‘Forget him, lovely lady, as by him thou art forgot.’ ‘Thou dost him wrong, sir knight; by him forgotten I am not: I hold within my arms a pledge for his true love to me, This new-born babe--his child and mine--which he hath yet to see.’ ‘Oh, let me be thy servant, lady--I will love thee dear--’ ‘Sir knight, I am a wedded wife, such words I may not hear--’ ‘None else can hear them, lady. What witnesses are nigh?’ ‘This heart, which is Hernando’s, and God who sits on high.’ ‘Sweet lady, yet a boon, upon my bended knee, I crave--’ ‘Sir knight, if one which I can grant with honour, ask and have.’ ‘Oh, give me these three golden rings that on thy fingers shine.’ ‘Sir knight, with life alone I part with these three rings of mine!’ ‘Oh, lend them but a day--an hour--to wear them for thy sake--’ ‘It may not be, such act my lord would proof of falsehood make.’ ‘Enough, enough, unkind one! Then I may nought obtain?’ ‘When thou would’st aught that I may grant, sir knight, demand again.’ The knight hath mounted his steed and away--his love is changed to hate. At the nearest town he lighted down before a goldsmith’s gate: He hath bought three rings of plain red gold, like those by Clara worn, ‘O bitterly thy slight of me, proud lady, shalt thou mourn!’ He hath mounted again his coal-black barb before the break of day. And who is he, the warrior bold, who meets him on the way? It is the brave Hernando, who, the Soldan’s city won, Now pants to hold within his arms his wife and new-born son. ‘What news? what news? thou noble knight; good friend, thy tidings tell-- How fare my wife and infant child--say, are they safe and well?’ ‘Thy wife is well, and eke the boy’--‘Thy speech is brief and cold; Clara is true?’--‘For answer, look on these three rings of gold.’ One instant, and his vizor’s clos’d, his lance is in the rest-- ‘Defend thee now, thou felon knight! Foul shame be on thy crest!’ One charge--one shock. The traitor’s corse is from the saddle cast, Through plate, and chain, and gambeson, Hernando’s spear hath pass’d. He buries in his courser’s flank his bloody spears again; Away! away! he scales the hill--he thunders o’er the plain! ‘Up, Clara, up!’ her mother cries; ‘Hernando comes! I see The well-known blazon on his shield. ’Tis he, my child, ’tis he!’ ‘Oh, mother! rides he fast as one who to his true-love hies? Canst see his face, dear mother? Looks joy from out his eyes?’ ‘His helmet, child, is open, and he rideth fast enow, But his cheek is pale, and bent, as if in anger, seems his brow.’ The tramp of armed feet is heard upon the turret stair; Forth springs to meet her lord’s embrace that lady fond and fair. By the silken locks, in which his hands have oft been fondly twined, He hath seized and dragged her from her bower with jealous fury blind.