The Lover.
“Fair sir,” I answered, “pity me,
Whom Love hath seized within his grip,
Nor fear that falsehood stains my lip.
Through Love my heart is doomed to feel
Five cruel wounds, which nought may heal3020
Unless I win that opening rose,
Than which, the world’s round circle knows
Nought else so sweet. For it I live,
Or die, content my life to give
Therefor.”—Fair-Welcome paled with fear,
Fair-Welcome.
And cried: “O brother, wherefore rear
Within your breast a hope so vain?
Desire you then to be my bane?
Alas! I were forsooth undone,
My credit lost, my honour gone,3030
If you should dare to reive that rose
From where, by God’s handset, it grows
Unharmed. A villain’s act I trow
Is that you dream of. Suffer now
That beauteous bud, whereso ’twas born,
To flourish still, my hand would scorn
The crime your mouth doth rashly bid.”
The Author.
Danger appears
Then Danger, who lay closely hid
Hard by, sprang forth. Of form immense,
Dark-browed, with hair as stiff and dense3040
