And see my dear lord wounded in the strife,
Or maybe pierc’d to death before mine eyes,
And yet not dare to tell him what I think, 105
And how men slur him, saying all his force
Is melted into mere effeminacy?
O me, I feel that I am no true wife.”
Half inwardly, half audibly she spoke,
And the strong passion in her made her weep 110
True tears upon his broad and naked breast,
And these awoke him, and by great mischance