Fair Lady, I pledge me never to essay thy will to constrain.
Long shall it be of a surety ere I couch me nigh thee again.”
She recked not how fared it with Gunther, so she all restfully lay.
There must he hang in torment through the weary night till the day,
Yea, until shot through the casement were the shafts of the dawning light.
—Had he ever been stalwart of body, now passing faint was his might!
“Make answer to me, Lord Gunther, wouldst haply be sore dismayed
If thy chamberlains entered and found thee,” spake that lovely maid,
“Hanging a shackled captive, by a woman’s hand so bound?”
But he answered, “Therein thy dishonour and thine own hurt should be found.