CHAPTER FIVE THE LIMITS OF LOYALTY
"O knights and lords, it seems but little skill
To talk of well-known things past now and dead.
God wot I ought to say, I have done ill,
And pray you all forgiveness heartily!
Because you must be right, such great lords; still
Listen, suppose your time were come to die,
And you were quite alone and very weak;
Yea, laid a dying while very mightily
The wind was ruffling up the narrow streak
Of river through your broad lands running well;
Suppose a hush should come, then some one speak;
'One of these cloths is heaven, and one is hell,
Now choose one cloth for ever; which they be,
I will not tell you, you must somehow tell
Of your own strength and mightiness; here, see!'
* * * * * * *
After a shivering half-hour you said;
'God help! heaven's colour, the blue'; and he said, 'hell.'
Perhaps you would roll upon your bed,
And cry to all good men that loved you well,
'Ah, Christ! if only I had known, known, known ...'"
William Morris: The Defence of Guenevere.