At last one day I rested in a glade Near that same woodland which I lay in when Sore wounded; and, while sitting in the shade Of an old beech--what! did I dream, or men Like Rupert's own ride near me? and a maid-- Isolda or her spirit!--Wildly then I rose and, shouting, leapt upon my horse; Unsheathed my sword and rode across their course. XVI. Mainly I looked for Rupert, and by name Challenged him forth:--"Dog! dost thou hide behind?-- Insulter of women! Coward! save where shame And rapine call thee! God at last is kind, And my sword waits!"--Like an upbeating flame, My voice rose to a windy shout; and blind I seemed to sit, till, with an outstretched hand, Isolda rode before me from that band. XVII. "Gerald!" she cried; not as a heart surprised With gladness that the loved, deemed dead, still lives; But like the heart that long hath realized Only misfortune and to fortune gives No confidence, though it be recognized As good. She spoke: "Lo, we are fugitives. Rupert is slain. And I am going home." Then like a child asked simply, "Wilt thou come?... XVIII. "Oh, I have suffered, Gerald, oh, my God! What shame, what vileness! Once my soul was clean-- Stained and defiled behold it!--I have trod Sad ways of hell and horror. I have seen And lived all depths of lust. Yet, oh, my God! Blameless I hold myself of what hath been, Though through it all, yea, this thou too must know, I loved him! my betrayer and thy foe!" XIX. Sobbing she spoke as if but half awake, Her eyes far-fixed beyond me, far beyond All hope of mine.--So it was for his sake, His love, that she had suffered!... blind and fond, For what return!... And I to nurse a snake, And never dream its nature would respond With some such fang of venom! 'T was for this That I had ventured all, to find her his! XX. At first half-stunned I stood; then blood and brain, Like two stern judges, who had slept, awoke, Rose up and thundered, "Slay her!" Every vein And nerve responded, "Slay her at a stroke!"-- And I had done it, but my heart again, Like a strong captain in a tumult, spoke, And the fierce discord fell. And quietly I sheathed my sword and said, "I'll go with thee." XXI. But this was my reward for all I'd borne, My loyalty and love! To see her eyes Hollow from tears for him; her pale cheeks worn With grief for him; to know them all for lies, Her vows of faith to me; to come forlorn, Where I had hoped to come on Paradise, On Hell's black gulf; and, as if not enough, Soiled as she was and outcast, still to love! XXII.