And disgust, while Yolenta her riding wand grasps,
Sharply switches the recreant kneeling before her,
And turns to depart,—
When up with a start
Springs De Rodon, and pallid with anger leans o’er her.
Then hisses these words in her ear,—“Ere you smile
Or rejoice in your stratagem, listen awhile,
And learn that a herald discharging his duty
Is sacred; despite of your wealth, rank, and beauty,
For the stroke you have dealt me your fair hand is forfeit;