VIII.
Boldly she spoke,—“Soldiers, attend!
My father was the soldier’s friend;
Cheer’d him in camps, in marches led,
And with him in the battle bled.
Not from the valiant, or the strong,
Should exile’s daughter suffer wrong.”—
Answer’d De Brent, most forward still
In every feat or good or ill,—
“I shame me of the part I play’d;
And thou an outlaw’s child, poor maid!
An outlaw I by forest laws,
And merry Needwood[339] knows the cause.
Poor Rose,—if Rose be living now,”—
He wiped his iron eye and brow,—
“Must bear such age, I think, as thou.—
Hear ye, my mates;—I go to call
The Captain of our watch to hall:
There lies my halberd on the floor;
And he that steps my halberd o’er,
To do the maid injurious part,
My shaft shall quiver in his heart!—
Beware loose speech, or jesting rough:
Ye all know John de Brent. Enough.”