Bare-stretching the wrists that bore also the glowing great boon:
"Yea! surely as over us shineth the lurid low moon,
"Not alone of our lord, but of each of us take what he hath!
Too poor is the guerdon, if thou wilt but show us the path!"
Her nostril upraised, like a fawn's on the arrowy air,
She sped, in a serpentine gleam to the precipice stair.
They climbed in her traces, they closed on their evil swift star:
She bent to the latches, and swung the huge portal ajar.
Repulsed where they passed her, half-tearful for wounded belief,
"The bracelets!" she pleaded. Then faced her, the leonine chief,
And answered her: "Even as I promised, maid-merchant, I do."
Down from his dark shoulder the baubles he sullenly drew.
"This left arm shall nothing begrudge thee. Accept. Find it sweet.
Give, too, O my brothers!" The jewels he flung at her feet,
The jewels hard heavy; she stooped to them, flushing with dread,
But the shield he flung after: it clanged on her beautiful head.
Like the Apennine bells when the villagers' warnings begin,
Athwart the first lull broke the ominous din upon din;
With a "Hail, benefactress!" upon her they heaped in their zeal
Death: agate and iron; death: chrysoprase, beryl and steel.