AIX EN PROVENCE

   I

   Christ God who savest man, save most

           Of men Count Gismond who saved me!

   Count Gauthier, when he chose his post,

           Chose time and place and company

   To suit it; when he struck at length

   My honour, 'twas with all his strength.

   II

   And doubtlessly ere he could draw

           All points to one, he must have schemed!

   That miserable morning saw

           Few half so happy as I seemed,                         10

   While being dressed in queen's array

   To give our tourney prize away.

   III

   I thought they loved me, did me grace

           To please themselves; 'twas all their deed;

   God makes, or fair or foul, our face;

           If showing mine so caused to bleed

   My cousins' hearts, they should have dropped

   A word, and straight the play had stopped.

   IV

   They, too, so beauteous!  Each a queen

           By virtue of her brow and breast;                      20

   Not needing to be crowned, I mean,

           As I do.  E'en when I was dressed,

   Had either of them spoke, instead

   Of glancing sideways with still head!

   V

   But no: they let me laugh, and sing

           My birthday song quite through, adjust

   The last rose in my garland, fling

           A last look on the mirror, trust

   My arms to each an arm of theirs,

   And so descend the castle-stairs—                             30

   VI

   And come out on the morning-troop

           Of merry friends who kissed my cheek,

   And called me queen, and made me stoop

           Under the canopy—a streak

   That pierced it, of the outside sun,

   Powdered with gold its gloom's soft dun—

   VII

   And they could let me take my state

           And foolish throne amid applause

   Of all come there to celebrate

           My queen's-day—Oh I think the cause                   40

   Of much was, they forgot no crowd

   Makes up for parents in their shroud!

   VIII

   However that be, all eyes were bent

           Upon me, when my cousins cast

   Theirs down; 'twas time I should present

           The victor's crown, but... there, 'twill last

   No long time... the old mist again

   Blinds me as then it did. How vain!

   IX

   See!  Gismond's at the gate, in talk

           With his two boys: I can proceed.                      50

   Well, at that moment, who should stalk

           Forth boldly—to my face, indeed—

   But Gauthier, and he thundered "Stay!"

   And all stayed.  "Bring no crowns, I say!"

   X

   "Bring torches! Wind the penance-sheet

           About her!  Let her shun the chaste,

   Or lay herself before their feet!

           Shall she whose body I embraced

   A night long, queen it in the day?

   For honour's sake no crowns, I say!"                           60

   XI

   I?  What I answered?  As I live,

           I never fancied such a thing

   As answer possible to give.

           What says the body when they spring

   Some monstrous torture-engine's whole

   Strength on it?  No more says the soul.

   XII

   Till out strode Gismond; then I knew

           That I was saved. I never met

   His face before, but, at first view,

           I felt quite sure that God had set                     70

   Himself to Satan; who would spend

   A minute's mistrust on the end?

   XIII

   He strode to Gauthier, in his throat

           Gave him the lie, then struck his mouth

   With one back-handed blow that wrote

           In blood men's verdict there.  North, South,

   East, West, I looked. The lie was dead,

   And damned, and truth stood up instead.

   XIV

   This glads me most, that I enjoyed

           The heart of the joy, with my content                  80

   In watching Gismond unalloyed

           By any doubt of the event:

   God took that on him—I was bid

   Watch Gismond for my part: I did.

   XV

   Did I not watch him while he let

           His armourer just brace his greaves,

   Rivet his hauberk, on the fret

           The while!  His foot... my memory leaves

   No least stamp out, nor how anon

   He pulled his ringing gauntlets on.                            90

   XVI

   And e'en before the trumpet's sound

           Was finished, prone lay the false knight,

   Prone as his lie, upon the ground:

           Gismond flew at him, used no sleight

   O' the sword, but open-breasted drove,

   Cleaving till out the truth he clove.

   XVII

   Which done, he dragged him to my feet

           And said "Here die, but end thy breath

   In full confession, lest thou fleet

           From my first, to God's second death!                 100

   Say, hast thou lied?"  And, "I have lied

   To God and her," he said, and died.

   XVIII

   Then Gismond, kneeling to me, asked

           What safe my heart holds, though no word

   Could I repeat now, if I tasked

           My powers for ever, to a third

   Dear even as you are.  Pass the rest

   Until I sank upon his breast.

   XIX

   Over my head his arm he flung

           Against the world; and scarce I felt                  110

   His sword (that dripped by me and swung)

           A little shifted in its belt:

   For he began to say the while

   How South our home lay many a mile.

   XX

   So 'mid the shouting multitude

           We two walked forth to never more

   Return.  My cousins have pursued

           Their life, untroubled as before

   I vexed them.  Gauthier's dwelling-place

   God lighten!  May his soul find grace!                        120

   XXI

   Our elder boy has got the clear

           Great brow; tho' when his brother's black

   Full eye shows scorn, it... Gismond here?

           And have you brought my tercel back?

   I just was telling Adela

   How many birds it struck since May.

   NOTES:

   "Count Gismond: Aix in Provence" illustrates, in the person

   of the woman who relates to a friend an episode of her

   own life, the power of innate purity to raise up for

   her a defender when caught in the toils woven by

   the unsuspected envy and hypocrisy of her cousins

   and Count Gauthier, who attempt to bring dishonor

   upon her, on her birthday, with the seeming intention

   of honoring her. Her faith that the trial by combat

   between Gauthier and Gismond must end in Gismond's

   victory and her vindication reflects most truly, as Arthur

   Symons has pointed out, the medieval atmosphere of

   chivalrous France.

   124.  Tercel:  a male falcon.