"Oh, I have suffered, Gerald! Oh, my God! What shame! What torture! Once my soul was clean-- Stained and defiled behold it!--I have trod Sad ways of hell and horror. I have seen And lived all depths of lust. Yet, oh, my God! Blameless I hold myself of what hath been, Though through it all, yea,--this thou too must know,-- I loved him, my betrayer and thy foe!" XIX Sobbing she spoke as if but half awake, Her eyes far-fixed beyond me, far beyond All hope of mine.--So! it was for _his_ sake, _His_ love, that she had suffered!... Blind and fond, For what return!... And I--to nurse a snake, And never dream its nature would respond With some such fang of venom! 'Twas for this That I had ventured all--to find her his! XX At first half-stunned I stood; then blood and brain, Like two stern judges, who had slept, awoke, Rose up and thundered, "Slay her!" Every vein And nerve responded, "Slay her at a stroke!"-- And I had done it, but my heart again, Like a strong captain in a tumult, spoke, And the fierce discord fell. And quietly I sheathed my sword and said, "I'll go with thee." XXI But this was my reward for all I'd borne, My loyalty and love! To see her eyes Hollow from tears for him; her thin cheeks worn With grief for him; to know them all for lies, Her vows of faith to me; to come forlorn, Where I had hoped to come on Paradise, On Hell's black gulf; and, as if not enough, Soiled as she was and outcast, still to love! XXII Then rode one ruffian from the rest, clay-flecked From spur to plume with hurry; seized my rein, And--"What art _thou_," demanded, "who hast checked Our way and challenged?"--Then, with some disdain, Isolda, "Sir, my kinsman did expect Your captain here. What honor may remain To me I pledge for him. Hold off thy hands! He but attends me to the Moated Manse." XXIII We rode in silence. And at evening came Unto the Moated Manse.--Great clouds had grown Up in the west, on which the sunset's flame Lay like the hand of slaughter.--Very lone Its rooms and halls: a splintered door that, lame, Swung on one hinge; a cabinet o'erthrown; Or arras torn; or blood-stain turning wan, Showed us the way the battle once had gone. XXIV We reached the tower-chamber towards the west, In which on that dark day she thought to hide From Rupert when, at last, 'twas manifest We could not hold the Manse. There was no pride In her deep eyes now; nor did scorn invest Her with such dignity as once defied Him bursting in to find her standing here Prepared to die like some dog-hunted deer. XXV