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That service whereto I was bound.

Not of freewill would I be found

False to my word and solemn oath,

And, into crime so base, were loth

To be betrayed. My heart was filled

With thought of that my friend instilled

Therein with so great care: That I

By every mode and means should try

To honour Evil-Tongue, nor swerve

From his advice to please and serve

My cruel foes.

Should I get aught

Of thanks thereby? That knew I nought,

Yet wist I not what else to do,

Not daring to approach unto

The enclosure, as I quickly should

If I but wrought the thing I would.

And thus, God knows, did I debate

These doubts, with conscience desolate.

For one course duty sternly bid,

The while another thing I did,

And so towards the course of right

A traitor was I (though despite

Of sore temptation up till now

Had I been faithful), and did throw

My lot with treason, seen I could

No other way attain that good

My being longed for—I who ne’er

Ere this the cloak of leasings ware.