Hast thou seen how wide this water flows—
How smooth it swells and shines from brim to brim,
How fair, how full? Nay, then thine eyes are dim.
Thou dost not weep for fear lest evil men
Or that more evil woman—Guendolen
Didst thou not call her yesternight by name?—
Should put my father’s might in arms to shame?
What is she so to levy shameful strife
Against my sire and thee?
ESTRILD.
His wife! his wife!
SABRINA.
Why, that art thou.
ESTRILD.
Woe worth me!
SABRINA.
Nay, woe worth
Her wickedness! How may the heavens and earth
Endure her?
ESTRILD.
Heaven is fire, and earth a sword,
Against us.
SABRINA.
May the wife withstand her lord
And war upon him? Nay, no wife is she—
And no true mother thou to mock at me.
ESTRILD.
Yea, no true wife or mother, child, am I.
Yet, child, thou shouldst not say it—and bid me die.
SABRINA.
I bid thee live and laugh at wicked foes
Even as my sire and I do. What! ‘God knows,’
Thou sayest, and yet art fearful? Is he not
Righteous, that we should fear to take the lot
Forth of his hand that deals it? And my sire,
Kind as the sun in heaven, and strong as fire,
Hath he not God upon his side and ours,
Even all the gods and stars and all their powers?
ESTRILD.
I know not. Fate at sight of thee should break
His covenant—doom grow gentle for thy sake.
SABRINA.
Wherefore?
ESTRILD.
Because thou knowest not wherefore. Child,
My days were darkened, and the ways were wild
Wherethrough my dark doom led me toward this end,
Ere I beheld thy sire, my lord, my friend,
My king, my stay, my saviour. Let thine hand
Lie still in mine. Thou canst not understand,
Yet would I tell thee somewhat. Ere I knew
If aught of evil or good were false or true,
If aught of life were worth our hope or fear,
There fell on me the fate that sets us here.
For in my father’s kingdom oversea—
SABRINA.
Thou wast not born in Britain?
ESTRILD.
Woe is me,
No: happier hap had mine perchance been then.
SABRINA.
And was not I? Are these all stranger men?
ESTRILD.
Ay, wast thou, child—a Briton born: God give
Thy name the grace on British tongues to live!
SABRINA.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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