"Months passed. Alas! it needs not here to tell What often thou hast heard--Of how he led His troopers here now there; nor what befell Me of dishonor. Oft I wished me dead, Loathing my life, than which the nether hell Hath less of horror ... So we fought or fled From place to place until a year had passed, And Parliament forces hemmed us in at last. XXX. "Yea, I had only lived for this--to right With death my wrongs sometime. And love and hate Contended in my bosom when, that night Before the fight that should decide our fate, I entered where he slept. There was no light Save of the stars to see by. Long and late I leaned above him there, yet could not kill-- Hate raised the dagger but love held it still. XXXI. "The woman in me conquered. What a slave To our emotions are we! To relent At this long-waited moment!--Wave on wave Of pitying weakness swept me, and I bent And kissed his face. Then prayed to God; and gave My trust to God; and left to God th' event.-- I never looked on Rupert's face again, For in that morning's combat--he was slain. XXXII. "Out of defeat escaped some scant three score Of all his followers. And night and day They fled; and while the Roundheads pressed them sore, And in their road, good as a fortress, lay The Moated Manse, where their three score or more Might well hold out, I pointed them the way. And they are come, amid its wrecks to end The crime begun here.--Thou must go, my friend! XXXIII. "Go quickly! For the time approaches when Destruction must arrive.--Oh, well I know All thou wouldst say to me.--What boots it then?-- I tell thee thou must go, that thou must go!-- Yea, dost thou think I'd have thee die 'mid men Like these, for such an one as I!--No! no!-- Thy life is clean. Thou shalt not cast away Thy clean life for my soiled one. Go, I pray!" XXXIV. She ceased. I spoke--I know not what it was. Then took her hand and kissed it and so said-- "Thou art my promised wife. Thou hast no cause That is not mine. I love thee. We will wed. I love thee. Come!"--A moment did she pause, Then shook her head and sighed, "My heart is dead. This can not be. Behold, that way is thine. I will not let thee share this way that's mine." XXXV. Then turning from me ere I could prevent Passed like a shadow from the shadowy room, Leaving my soul in shadow ... Naught was meant By my sweet flower of love then! bloom by bloom I'd watched it wither; then its fragrance went, And naught was left now.--It was dark as doom, And bells were tolling far off through the rain, When from that house I turned my face again. XXXVI.