He paused;—the word the vassals took,
With forward step and fiery look,
On high their naked brands they shook,
Their clattering targets wildly strook;[184]
And first in murmur low,
Then, like the billow in his course,
That far to seaward finds his source,
And flings to shore his muster’d force,
Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarse,
“Woe to the traitor, woe!”