Breaketh his sword beneath the victor’s feet,—
So my last failing courage me inspires;
Yet once more to the lute my hand is bold;
Let the last Wajdelote of Litwa sing
Litwa’s last song!”
He ended, and awaited
The Master’s answer. All in silence deep
Await. With mockery and with curious eye
Konrad tracks Witold’s every look and motion.
They noted all how when the Wajdelote