VII.
Oh, a bride of queenly eyes, with a front of constancies:
Toll slowly.
Oh, a bride of cordial mouth where the untired smile of youth
Did light outward its own sighs!
VIII.
'T was a Duke's fair orphan-girl, and her uncle's ward—the Earl—
Toll slowly.
Who betrothed her twelve years old, for the sake of dowry gold,
To his son Lord Leigh the churl.
IX.
But what time she had made good all her years of womanhood—
Toll slowly.
Unto both these lords of Leigh spake she out right sovranly,
"My will runneth as my blood.
X.
"And while this same blood makes red this same right hand's veins," she said—
Toll slowly—
"'T is my will, as lady free, not to wed a lord of Leigh,
But Sir Guy of Linteged."
XI.
The old Earl he smilèd smooth, then he sighed for wilful youth—
Toll slowly.
"Good my niece, that hand withal looketh somewhat soft and small
For so large a will, in sooth."