In that wild council words waxed warm and strange,[hx]

With thoughts of ransom, rescue, and revenge;

All, save repose or flight: still lingering there

Breathed Conrad's spirit, and forbade despair;

Whate'er his fate—the breasts he formed and led

Will save him living, or appease him dead.

Woe to his foes! there yet survive a few,

Whose deeds are daring, as their hearts are true.