Now darkly frowned Earl Roderick,
He turned his face away;
And shame and anger in his heart
Disturbed him with their sway.
For he had never cared to know
What his young bride would wear;
He gave her neither horse nor hound,
Nor jewels for her hair.
Now shall I tell how the Black Earl clapped his hand upon his dagger, and said in a great rage: ‘Where went this little lass, and whom hath she by her side? for whoever he be, I shall show to him no pity. Neither shall her tears save her. Nor shall thy age serve thee, witch, if thou hast spoken not the truth. Whither went they, so I may follow, as the hound goes on the trail of the deer?’
‘Oh, sharp sorrow thy anger is!’ cried the old crone; ‘what can I say, save what my eye hath seen and my ear hath heard? The little lass passed me as I gathered my herbs under the dew. She hath by her side no lord nor
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