Even as we raised him on the kingly shield,
Fredegonde’s pages smote on either side
With poisoned daggers: all our strength dissolves
Into small companies of plunderers
Laden with spoil, their horses homeward turned.’
“The harsh voice shuddered through the darkened room
Ere torches came, and in their ruddy light
I saw the angry eyes of Gondovald
Blazing before me with their baffled hate.
I trembled by the bed, but mine eyes too