His hand close clutch'd on his dagger heft,
And down the hall he stept;
And onwards with the dagger bared,
He rush'd to the lady's bower—
'Thou hast been false, and left thy home—
Thou diest this very hour!'
'Oh! it is true, I left my home;
But yet, before I die,
Oh! look not on me with face so changed,
Nor with so fierce an eye!