Take this, and send it by whom thou wilt send;
It is my life—send it to Eleanor—:
He's dead, and howling after me for blood!
"Take this," he cried: and thrust into her arms
A wet napkin, wrapt about; then rushed
Past, howling. She received into her arms
Pale death, and followed on the wings of fear.
They passed swift through the outer gate; the wretch
Howling, leaped o'er the wall into the moat,
Stifling in mud. Fair Ellen passed the bridge,