And look'd askance at Christabel- Jesu, Maria, shield her well! A snake's small eye blinks dull and shy, And the lady's eyes they shrunk in her head, Each shrunk up to a serpent's eye, And with somewhat of malice, and more of dread At Christabel she look'd askance!-- One moment--and the sight was fled! But Christabel in dizzy trance Stumbling on the unsteady ground Shudder'd aloud, with a hissing sound; And Geraldine again turn'd round, And like a thing, that sought relief, Full of wonder and full of grief, She roll'd her large bright eyes divine Wildly on Sir Leoline. The maid, alas! her thoughts are gone, She nothing sees--no sight but one! The maid, devoid of guile and sin, I know not how, in fearful wise So deeply had she drunken in That look, those shrunken serpent eyes, That all her features were resign'd To this sole image in her mind: And passively did imitate That look of dull and treacherous hate. And thus she stood, in dizzy trance, Still picturing that look askance, With forced unconscious sympathy, Full before her father's view- As far as such a look could be, In eyes so innocent and blue! And when the trance was o'er, the maid Paused awhile, and inly pray'd: Then falling at the Baron's feet, "By my mothers soul do I entreat That thou this woman send away!" She said: and more she could not say: For what she knew she could not tell, O er-master'd by the mighty spell. Why is thy cheek so wan and wild, Sir Leoline? Thy only child Lies at thy feet, thy joy, thy pride, So fair, so innocent, so mild; The same, for whom thy lady died! Oh by the pangs of her dear mother Think thou no evil of thy child! For her, and thee, and for no other, She pray'd the moment ere she died, Pray'd that the babe for whom she died, Might prove her dear lord's joy and pride! That prayer her deadly pangs beguiled, Sir Leoline! And wouldst thou wrong thy only child, Her child and thine? Within the Baron's heart and brain If thoughts like these had any share, They only swell'd his rage and pain, And did but work confusion there. His heart was cleft with pain and rage, His cheeks they quiver'd, his eyes were wild, Dishonour'd thus in his old age, Dishonour'd by his only child, And all his hospitality To the wrong'd daughter of his friend By more than woman's jealousy Brought thus to a disgraceful end-- He roll'd his eye with stern regard Upon the gentle minstrel bard, And said in tones abrupt, austere-- "Why, Bracy! dost thou loiter here? I bade thee hence!" The bard obey'd; And turning from his own sweet maid, The aged knight, Sir Leoline, Led forth the Lady Geraldine! THE CONCLUSION TO II. A little child, a limber elf, Singing, dancing to itself, A fairy thing with red round cheeks That always finds, and never seeks, Makes such a vision to the sight As fills a fathers eyes with light; And pleasures flow in so thick and fast