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RHYME OF THE DUCHESS MAY.
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,
    "Though he moans not where he lies.

"But a woman's will dies hard, in the hall or on the sward!"—
            Toll slowly!
"By that grave, my lords, which made me, orphaned girl and dowered lady,
    I deny you wife and ward."

Unto each she bowed her head, and swept past with lofty tread,—
            Toll slowly!
Ere the midnight-bell had ceased, in the chapel had the priest
    Blessed her, bride of Linteged.

Fast and fain the bridal train, along the night-storm rode amain:—
            Toll slowly!
Wild the steeds of lord and serf, struck their hoofs out on the turf,
    In the pauses of the rain.

Fast and fain, the kinsmen's train, along the storm pursued amain—
            Toll slowly!
Steed on steed-track, dashing off—thickening, doubling, hoof on hoof,
    In the pauses of the rain.