Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 3.pdf/46

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And with his club her shielding split,

So furiously he battered it.

And he, forsooth, such might had got,

That arms and armour feared he not,

But with his buckler hid his paunch

So well, that vainly did she launch

Her lance against it, for the stroke

Therefrom the tempered steel-head broke.

Then, though his harness hindered him

A moment’s space, the felon grim,

Enraged and maddened by the blow,

Hurled all his force against his foe,

Seized on her lance with one great bound,

Which fell in shards upon the ground

Beneath his club, then loud he cried:

Why ’neath my arm hast thou not died.

Thou ribald wretch, devoid of grace?

How dar’st thou still to show thy face

In arms against a noble knight?

And then her shield with all his might

He brake, and made the damsel sweet

Recoil before his furious feet,

And fall upon her knees, while he

Strikes and insults her ruthlessly.

Nor had her life his blows withstood,

Had been her shield mere oaken wood.