Page:The Celebrated Romance of the Stealing of the Mare.djvu/21

 And sent from his loved home to death's unjoyful dwellings,

Behold this Naaman, this man he called his brother,

In arms against our house, he with his evildoers,

Raiding all our wealth and making Amer captive.

Thus weeping did I flee, and seven long years an exile

Bore I his heart with me like a bird ever flying.

And then, the seven years done, to the dear place forbidden

Turned I in my love and my sweet son's remembrance.

And when he saw me near he called to me, ( O mother,

Behold me in what straits I lie through men of evil

(And these may God requite !) Seven years behold me outcast,

Herding the flocks afar each day in the lone desert,

And in my uncle's tent nightly a guest unwelcome.

Yet was there one with me, his daughter fair, Betina,

Whom I, as of little count, might wander with unquestioned

Until but few days since. But now another suitor

Asking her hand hath come, and with him brave companions.

And for this suitor's sake am I forbid her presence.

And what then, O my mother, shall I do, my mother,

Who have neither riches, though my soul is generous,

Nor wile nor stratagem in my life's little wisdom ?

How shall I win to her this fair child of my uncle ?

How shall I answer her, her greetings night and morning ? '