'Now sore doth it grieve me, Lady, that love worketh so in thee, That thine anger with words of scorning thus venteth itself on me. 140 For true service,' quoth he, 'winneth favour, an love thus be well approved; O'er-weening thy pride thus to taunt me that madness my speech had moved! Small wisdom in this thou showest, 'twere better thou hadst bethought, How thy father is but my vassal, and save of my grace hath naught!' 'For that which he holds can he serve thee,' she spake, 'higher is my aim, 145 For fief will I hold of no man, none shall me as vassal claim! And so high do I prize my freedom that no crown it shall be too high, That an earthly head e'er weareth!' Then he spake out wrathfully, 'Methinks thou hast been well tutored, that thy pride shall have waxed so great, An thy father such counsel gave thee, then penance on wrong shall wait-- 150 'Tis meet that for this I arm me, some wounded shall be, some slain, An they call it or war, or Tourney, many spears shall they break in twain!' 'Thus in anger he left the maiden, and all did his wrath bemoan, Yea, full sore it grieved the lady--Her father must well atone, Tho' he sware as his lord reproached him, guiltless of wrong was he, 155 (Or straight were his ways or crooked, his peers should his judges be, All the princes in court assembled)--that he to this strait was brought Thro' no sin of his own--And eager the prince from his lord besought His favour and love as of old time, but in vain he for peace might pray, For anger it ruled the monarch, and his gladness was reft away.' 160