XIV

This glads me most, that I enjoyed
        The heart of the joy, with my content 80
In watching Gismond unalloyed
        By any doubt of the event: 
God took that on him—­I was bid
Watch Gismond for my part:  I did.

XV

Did I not watch him while he let
        His armourer just brace his greaves,
Rivet his hauberk, on the fret
        The while!  His foot. . . my memory leaves
No least stamp out, nor how anon
He pulled his ringing gauntlets on. 90

XVI

And e’en before the trumpet’s sound
        Was finished, prone lay the false knight,
Prone as his lie, upon the ground: 
        Gismond flew at him, used no sleight
O’ the sword, but open-breasted drove,
Cleaving till out the truth he clove.

XVII

Which done, he dragged him to my feet
        And said “Here die, but end thy breath
In full confession, lest thou fleet
        From my first, to God’s second death! 100
Say, hast thou lied?” And, “I have lied
To God and her,” he said, and died.

XVIII

Then Gismond, kneeling to me, asked
        What safe my heart holds, though no word
Could I repeat now, if I tasked
        My powers for ever, to a third
Dear even as you are.  Pass the rest
Until I sank upon his breast.

XIX

Over my head his arm he flung
        Against the world; and scarce I felt 110
His sword (that dripped by me and swung)
        A little shifted in its belt: 
For he began to say the while
How South our home lay many a mile.

XX

So ’mid the shouting multitude
        We two walked forth to never more
Return.  My cousins have pursued
        Their life, untroubled as before
I vexed them.  Gauthier’s dwelling-place
God lighten!  May his soul find grace! 120

XXI

Our elder boy has got the clear
        Great brow; tho’ when his brother’s black
Full eye shows scorn, it . . .  Gismond here? 
        And have you brought my tercel back? 
I just was telling Adela
How many birds it struck since May.

Notes:  “Count Gismond:  Aix in Provence” illustrates, in the person of the woman who relates to a friend an episode of her own life, the power of innate purity to raise up for her a defender when caught in the toils woven by the unsuspected envy and hypocrisy of her cousins and Count Gauthier, who attempt to bring dishonor upon her, on her birthday, with the seeming intention of honoring her.  Her faith that the trial by combat between Gauthier and Gismond must end in Gismond’s victory and her vindication reflects most truly, as Arthur Symons has pointed out, the medieval atmosphere of chivalrous France.