And now with trembling fingers 'gan he shroud the light, Then went with glad expectance where lay his lady bright, And laid him down beside her, nor small the joy he knew, When his arms around her tenderly he threw. LVII Fain would he have caress'd her as gentle love inspires, Had but the wayward maiden granted his desires; But there he sore was troubled, so fiercely storm'd his mate. He look'd for fond affection, and met with deadly hate. LVIII "Sir knight," said she, "it suits not--you'd better leave me free From all your present purpose--it must and shall not be. A maid still will I keep me (think well the matter o'er) Till I am told that story." This fretted Gunther sore. LIX Then for her love he struggled e'en till her robe he rent; With that, up caught the maiden a cord with fell intent (About her waist she wore it, strong was the same and tough), And wrought her lord and master shame and wrong enough. LX The feet and hands of Gunther she tied together all, Then to a nail she bore him, and hung him 'gainst the wall, And bade him not disturb her, nor breathe of love a breath. Sure from the doughty damsel he all but met his death. LXI Humbly to beg began he, who master should have been, "Untie me, I beseech you, right fair and noble queen For your love will I never against your pleasure try, And ne'er again will venture so close to you to lie." LXII How he far'd she reck'd not, while soft herself she lay; So all night long he dangled perforce till break of day, When through the chamber window the light began to peep. That night was Gunther's pleasure as little as his sleep. LXIII "Now tell me, good Sir Gunther," began the froward fair, "Would you like your servants to find you hanging there The bondsman of a woman? that were a royal view!" The noble knight made answer, "No credit 'twere to you; LXIV "And in good sooth," he added, "'twere honor none to me; So of your kindness, lady, be pleas'd to set me free; Since my love's so distasteful, fear neither harm nor hurt. Not so much as a finger of mine shall touch your skirt." LXV With that the maid unbound him; free stood he, but half dead; Then all aghast and trembling back totter'd to the bed, And there lay down so distant that her night-dress fair He seldom touch'd, if ever; e'en that she well could spare. LXVI Now in came their attendants; by these in hand were borne New gaudy robes in plenty to suit the marriage morn. Downcast he stood and moody amidst the smiling band. Their mirth seem'd out of season to the monarch of the land. LXVII