Among the nobility of France,
To whom reverts the dying soldier’s gift;
Here it is. Take it. But, I pray you, swear
That, if death spares me not, you will fulfill
This pious duty in my place.”
Therewith
He the medallion handed her; and on it
Irene saw the Viscount’s blazoned arms.
Then--her heart agonized with mortal woe--
“I swear it, sir!” she murmured. “Sleep in peace,”