Quoth the other: "'Tis our sight is dazed That we see flame i' the air." But the Queen held her brows and gazed, And said, "It is the glare Of torches there." _Held her brows_--that is, put her hand above her eyes so as to see better by keeping off the light in the room. There is a very nice suggestion here; the Queen hears and sees better than the young girls, not simply because she has finer senses, or because she has more to fear by the loss of her kingdom. It is the intensification of the senses caused by love that makes her see and hear so well. "Oh what are the sounds that rise and spread? All day it was so still;" Quoth the youngest to the eldest maid: "Unto the furthest hill The air they fill." Quoth the other: "'Tis our sense is blurr'd With all the chants gone by." But the Queen held her breath and heard, And said, "It is the cry Of Victory." The first of all the rout was sound, The next were dust and flame, And then the horses shook the ground; And in the thick of them A still band came. I think that no poet in the world ever performed a greater feat than this stanza, in which, and in three lines only, the whole effect of the spectacle and sound of an army returning at night has been given. We must suppose that the women have gone out to wait for the army. It comes; but the night is dark, and they hear at first only the sound of the coming, the tramp of black masses of men passing. Probably these would be the light troops, archers and footmen. The lights are still behind, with the cavalry. Then the first appearance is made in the light of torches--foot soldiers still, covered with dust and carrying lights with them. Then they feel the ground shake under the weight of the feudal cavalry--the knights come. But where is the chief? No chief is visible; but, surrounded by the mounted knights, there is a silent company of men on foot carrying something. The Queen wants to know what it is. It is covered with leaves and branches so that she cannot see it. "Oh what do ye bring out of the fight, Thus hid beneath these boughs?" "Thy conquering guest returns to-night, And yet shall not carouse, Queen, in thy house." After a victory there was always in those days a great feast of wine-drinking, or carousal. _To carouse_ means to take part in such noisy festivity. When the Queen puts her question, she is kindly but grimly answered, so that she knows the dead body of her knight must be under the branches. But being a true woman and lover, her love conquers her fear and pain; she must see him again, no matter how horribly his body may have been wounded. "Uncover ye his face," she said. "O changed in little space!" She cried, "O pale that was so red! O God, O God of grace! Cover his face!"