Twelve lancers circled into sight.
Count Ugo gallopped through the green
And laughed at that which he had seen.
And yet one lover more?" scoffed he,
God's death, you use them royally;
Maids grow less bold in Rimini."
My only lover and my last,"
She said. He scowled and caught her fast,
Twisting his steel-glove in her hair,
Jerked back her head, her eyes on him,