To shield from danger a Provençal maid,
Sister of him whose cold oppression stung
Our hearts to madness.
Mon. What! should she be spared
To keep that name from perishing on earth?
—I cross’d them in their path, and raised my sword
To smite her in her champion’s arms. We fought
The boy disarm’d me! And I live to tell
My shame, and wreak my vengeance!
Gui. Who but he