Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/102

 In the French camp before the Castle

Sir Peter prisoner,, ,

So now is come the ending of my life;

If I could clear this sickening lump away

That sticks in my dry throat, and say a word,

Guesclin might listen.

If you have been clean liver before God,

And then you need not fear much; as for me,

I cannot say I hate you, yet my oath,

And cousin Lambert's ears here clench the thing.

I knew you could not hate me, therefore I

Am bold to pray for life; 't will harm your cause

To hang knights of good name, harm here in France

I have small doubt, at any rate hereafter

Men will remember you another way

Than I should care to be remember'd, ah!

Although hot lead runs through me for my blood,

All this falls cold as though I said, "Sweet lords,

Give back my falcon!"

Do you care altogether more than France,

Say rather one French faction, than for all

The state of Christendom? a gallant knight,

As (yea, by God!) I have been, is more worth