And five hundred archers tall did besiege the castle wall,— Toll slowly. And the castle seethed in blood, fourteen days and nights had stood, And to-night, was near its fall.
Yet thereunto, blind to doom, three months since, a bride did come,— Toll slowly. One who proudly trod the floors, and softly whispered in the doors, "May good angels bless our home."
Oh, a bride of queenly eyes, with a front of constancies,— Toll slowly. Oh, a bride of cordial mouth,—where the untired smile of youth Did light outward its own sighs.
'Twas a Duke's fair orphan-girl, and her uncle's ward, the Earl, Toll slowly. Who betrothed her, twelve years old, for the sake of dowry gold, To his son Lord Leigh, the churl.
But what time she had made good all her years of womanhood, Toll slowly. Unto both those Lords of Leigh, spake she out right sovranly, "My will runneth as my blood.
"And while this same blood makes red this same right hand's veins," she said,— Toll slowly. "'Tis my will as lady free, not to wed a Lord of Leigh, But Sir Guy of Linteged."
The old Earl he smiled smooth, then he sighed for willful youth,— Toll slowly. "Good my niece, that hand withal looketh somewhat soft and small For so large a will, in sooth."
She, too, smiled by that same sign,—but her smile was cold and fine,— Toll slowly. "Little hand clasps muckle gold, or it were not worth the hold Of thy son, good uncle mine!"
Then the young lord jerked his breath, and sware thickly in his teeth,— Toll slowly. "He would wed his own betrothed, an she loved him an she loathed, Let the life come or the death."
Up she rose with scornful eyes, as her father's child might rise,— Toll slowly. "Thy hound's blood, my Lord of Leigh, stains thy knightly heel," quoth she, "And he moans not where he lies.