Classic Poem

Of all that living in that wood met late,
That conclave wild, were left but two alone,
Mano, with whom Diantha, caught by fate
The rest from life by various deaths were gone:
The most with deadly swathes the field did deck,
Part in the underwood made their last moan,
Part on the trees were hanging by the neck
(The dearnliest sight of all were they to see,)
And this great cruelty no man did check.
Sir Mano, lying bound upon the lea,
Expected his own stroke to come anon:
For drunken seemed those lords with cruelty;
And rode about, smiting where life was none
But presently he was conveyed from thence,
And carried to a dungeon of thick stone,
Within a lord's near dwelling of defence:
Where too Diantha, in that house of pain,
Not far from him kept forced residence.
She changed for prison strait the open plain,
Lamenting Elfeg, whom a furious knight
Upon the battlefield outright had slain:
And hating Mano with redoubled spite,
As cause of these new woes that her oppressed.
Nor long before the lords a message write
To Robert of Rouen, and his will request
Touching their captives. He in brief replies
That death by burning was for both his hest:
For him, as fautor of conspiracies,
And slayer of a knight full well renowned,
And taking part against high dignities:
For her, because she was the leman found
Of the ringleader of their enemies,
And from high birth had grovelled low to ground
(A sin above all sins to noble eyes)
Wherefore for both of them this cruel death
By next convenient hour doth he advise.
Which when Diantha heard, she veiled uneath
Her eyes from laughter at the fell intent,
Well knowing that while love in man did breathe,
So fair a form as hers should not be shent.
For she already with the castellan
Was plotting freedom from imprisonment:
And her looks fired with love that fiery man,
A lord unused to have his pleasure fail:
But what they planned, and how fell out their plan,
Shall in the sequel due be told in tale —
Compared with beauty, in the hour of need
What merchandise has worth that may avail?
When Mano heard the doom that was decreed,
He also smiled, as if his inmost heart
Took some resolve of counsel and good heed,
Nor from himself through false fear would depart,
Albeit death so horrible might fear
A mind that never would in battle start.
Leave asked he then to write from dungeon drear
A letter to the man who did him dead:
And in the same he had a purpose clear,
Against himself all evils that were laid
First to admit, and more to add indeed
Than were in Robert's heavy sentence read:
How with the peasants he in heart agreed
Against the lords in undertakings all:
How on the lords great vengeance was decreed:
That this last slaughter, which in the wood did fall,
Was but a foul deed done: that justice great
He for himself required, with fair trial.
For 'twas his drift in this to exaggerate
Upon himself both guilt and innocence,
That he Diantha might redeem from fate
By drawing on himself all violence.
Of her he added these: That howsoe'er
It stood with him, in her was none offence,
Who was a maiden noble, rich, and fair,
The daughter of a lord in honour high,
Though she were gathered in some demon's snare,
And fell away from her high dignity:
And he demanded, as of right, therefor,
That upon her were done no felony,
But to her father they should her restore.
— Thus wrote he, weening in this way to bring
Diantha back to safety and honour.
But when in Rouen Robert read this thing,
He sent his Fool to answer it; who came
Riding upon an ass, with reins of string,
Attired in a gown of painted flame,
Wearing at heel a silly wooden prong
In lieu of knightly spur: a form of shame.
Small, and deformed was he, yet lithe and strong,
And in his face was malice infinite:
And as he rode, he sounded on a gong;
And bore a bladder halbert, as a knight.
This shameful creature rode up to the gate,
Leaving his wayward steed, there to alight.
He entered into Mano's prison straight,
Crying, " Ho, Mano, father sends thee me
For answer; other answer thou mayst wait:
" And yet right well shalt thou purveyed be. "
To call Count Robert father, to his brain
Seemed good to be repeated endlessly
Now leave we here Sir Mano with this bane.