Some monstrous torture-engine's whole Strength on it? No more says the soul. XII. Till out strode Gismond; then I knew That I was saved. I never met His face before, but, at first view, I felt quite sure that God had set Himself to Satan; who would spend A minute's mistrust on the end? XIII. He strode to Gauthier, in his throat Gave him the lie, then struck his mouth With one back-handed blow that wrote In blood men's verdict there. North, South, East, West, I looked. The lie was dead, And damned, and truth stood up instead. XIV. This glads me most, that I enjoyed The heart of the joy, with my content In watching Gismond unalloyed By any doubt of the event: God took that on him--I was bid Watch Gismond for my part: I did. XV. Did I not watch him while he let His armourer just brace his greaves, Rivet his hauberk, on the fret The while! His foot... my memory leaves No least stamp out, nor how anon He pulled his ringing gauntlets on. XVI. And e'en before the trumpet's sound Was finished, prone lay the false knight, Prone as his lie, upon the ground: Gismond flew at him, used no sleight O' the sword, but open-breasted drove, Cleaving till out the truth he clove. XVII. Which done, he dragged him to my feet And said, "Here die, but end thy breath In full confession, lest thou fleet From my first, to God's second death! Say, hast thou lied?" And, "I have lied To God and her," he said, and died. XVIII. Then Gismond, kneeling to me, asked --What safe my heart holds, though no word Could I repeat now, if I tasked My powers for ever, to a third Dear even as you are. Pass the rest Until I sank upon his breast. XIX. Over my head his arm he flung Against the world; and scarce I felt His sword (that dripped by me and swung) A little shifted in its belt: For he began to say the while How South our home lay many a mile. XX. So,'mid the shouting multitude We two walked forth to never more Return. My cousins have pursued Their life, untroubled as before I vexed them. Gauthier's dwelling-place God lighten! May his soul find grace. XXI. Our elder boy has got the clear Great brow; tho' when his brother's black Full eye shows scorn, it... Gismond here? And have you brought my tercel back? I just was telling Adela How many birds it struck since May. ----R. Browning. A LOWLAND WITCH BALLAD |The old witch-wife beside her door Sat spinning with a watchful ear, A horse's hoof upon the road Is what she waits for, longs to hear. The mottled gloaming dusky grew, Or else we might a furrow trace, Sowed with small bones and leaves of yew, Across the road from place to place. Hark he comes! The young bridegroom, Singing gaily down the hill, Rides on, rides blindly to his doom, His heart that witch hath sworn to kill.