“Poor girl! I can find no wings on thee. I once thought thou hadst such. They must have dropped off.”
There was no reply. He then began to retreat, to placate, and to that intent drew her closer and closer to his heart, until, embracing her, his hands clasped; but, for the first time since the event near Gerash, when the Arabs were vanquished, his caress was without response. He tried a thrust thus:
“Well, beloved, since thou dost banish me, bestow a kiss of long farewell.”
Quickly, Rizpah flung aside his embracing arms and cried: “Shechemite! I’m no Dinah, won by false professions!”
“Shechem was more honorable than all the house of his father,” quoted the knight in reply.
“He loved himself, his passions; to these gods he gave up with all devotion, and they immolated him. That was good!”
“Why, Rizpah, thou art pettish.”
“‘Rizpah!’ Thou art adroit in using bitter similes; a brutalizing power, when brutally used! Now, call me ‘Jarnsaxa.’ Thou toldst me, yesterday, how that mighty male god of the Norse, Thor, while hating her people, to the death, stole Jarnsaxa. Yea, and how many giants fell for women. Perhaps thou didst want me to pity thee. We are in Giant Land now, and thou canst begin to play Colossus!”
The knight was startled, and quickly entreated: “My queen, lets drop the masks; no more of this; forget my sarcasm, and I’ll forgive the recriminations. A truce and pardon, in the name of love. What says Esther?”