La Belle Dame Sans Merci. "Eftsoons I haled him to King's Bench, A fearsome thing—he practised there; But Benedict his wife's smooth speech Did straight forswear. "Ah, me! my trinkets rich and rare He neither purchased nor had seen; His wife must dress in modest guise. Not like a queen. "To give her sixty pounds a year Was all he might (my bill was more!) Beyond her station were these gauds— All this he swore. 'Twas vain I urged 'implied assent' And all the burden that it carries— The Court adjudged my jewels were Not 'necessaries,' "Then as they found no 'agency1 Of wife for husband re my bill, In law or fact, they handed down A non-suit chill. "And this the paper in my hand, A judgment dight with stamp and seal; It holds me with a mystic spell, My senses reel."
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