I felt at once that all was best,
        And that I had nothing to do, for the rest
But wait her commands, obey and be dutiful. 720
Not that, in fact, there was any commanding;
        I saw the glory of her eye,
And the brow’s height and the breast’s expanding,
        And I was hers to live or to die. 
As for finding what she wanted,
You know God Almighty granted
Such little signs should serve wild creatures
        To tell one another all their desires,
        So that each knows what his friend requires,
And does its bidding without teachers. 730
I preceded her; the crone
Followed silent and alone;
I spoke to her, but she merely jabbered
        In the old style; both her eyes had slunk
        Back to their pits; her stature shrunk;
        In short, the soul in its body sunk
Like a blade sent home to its scabbard. 
We descended, I preceding;
Crossed the court with nobody heeding;
All the world was at the chase, 740
The courtyard like a desert-place,
The stable emptied of its small fry;
I saddled myself the very palfrey
I remember patting while it carried her,
The day she arrived and the Duke married her. 
And, do you know, though it’s easy deceiving
Oneself in such matters, I can’t help believing
The lady had not forgotten it either,
And knew the poor devil so much beneath her
Would have been only too glad for her service 750
To dance on hot ploughshares like a Turk dervise,
But, unable to pay proper duty where owing
Was reduced to that pitiful method of showing it: 
For though the moment I began setting
His saddle on my own nag of Berold’s begetting,
(Not that I meant to be obtrusive)
        She stopped me, while his rug was shifting,
        By a single rapid finger’s lifting,
And, with a gesture kind but conclusive,
And a little shake of the head, refused me—­ 760
I say, although she never used me,
Yet when she was mounted, the Gipsy behind her,
And I ventured to remind her
I suppose with a voice of less steadiness
        Than usual, for my feeling exceeded me,
—­Something to the effect that I was in readiness
        Whenever God should please she needed me—­
Then, do you know, her face looked down on me
With a look that placed a crown on me,
And she felt in her bosom—­mark, her bosom—­ 770
And, as a flower-tree drops its blossom,
Dropped me . . . ah, had it been a purse
Of silver, my friend, or gold that’s worse,
Why, you see, as soon as I found myself
        So understood,—­that a true heart so may gain
        Such a reward,—­I should have gone home again,
Kissed Jacynth, and soberly drowned myself! 
It was a little plait of hair
        Such as friends in a convent make