Day wanes: full summer's hanging in the air.
Oh, tarry not, my own.
See! the first withered leaf is fallen there
And I am here alone.
Hath not my sorrow magic o'er thy breast?
Hath not my weary plight
The wings of love to fly into thy nest
And reach thee in the night?
Come to me, Palmerin. Thy trial's o'er,
Thy knightly vow fulfilled.
Come before winter chokes the ways, before
My inmost soul is chilled.
Where dost thou wander? From what lonely moor
Dost thou salute this sun?
Forget'st thou in gay courts what I endure?
Lov'st thou some happier one?
Weak woman! Can my doubting heart not wait
While his true heart can fight?
Why should I falter while he fronts his fate,
Or mourn while he doth right?
Keep him, great world, till the white shield he bore
Be blazoned rich in pride.
Fear not to echo, deserts, he's no more,
If he have nobly died.
_Re-enter_ NURSE; _later_ HUGH, _a page._
NURSE. Run hither quickly, mistress. Hasten in
And bid them raise the bridge. Some horsemen climb
The western hill. Make haste, or all is lost.
Young Hugh espied them from the northern tower,
And gave us warning.
FLERIDA. Heaven hears my prayer.
NURSE. Madness. Come in. I prithee hasten, Hugh.
She 'll take thy word, though she mistrusts my oath
Who never lied to her in all these years
That I have served her, and her mother, too,
Long before she was thought of. Speak, boy, speak.
Assure thy mistress that a host arrives.
HUGH. A single knight, my lady, clad in arms.
FLERIDA. Young, with fair locks?
HUGH. He had his helmet on.
FLERIDA. Saw'st thou his shield?
HUGH. It bore a rich device.
But what I know not.
FLERIDA. Came he mounted well?
HUGH. Right well, on a white steed. But at the turn
Dismounted, and now leads the charger up.
NURSE. O God, 't is he! I know him by that sign.
He always did so. [_A bugle is heard in the distance._
FLERIDA. God be my strength! Answer the bugle, Hugh.
Thy master's call. It is Sir Palmerin.
Again, again.--Summon the men-at-arms
And fetch my father's sword, his helm and shield,
That, with the great keys, I deliver them
To him whose right they are.
[_Exit_ HUGH.
The day is come,
Merciful God, the day is come at last.
NURSE. Runnest thou not to meet him? Flyest thou not?
Oh, if I could, I'd rush to kiss his hands
Full half-way down the steep. Alas! these bones.
FLERIDA. I, who have waited for him five long years,
May well be patient now. Here let him find me
Where last we parted, at the castle gate.
_Re-enter_ HUGH, _men-at-arms, and attendant, bearing
some pieces of armour._
NURSE. Oh, I must weep for joy! See, where he comes,
Not so much changed but I should know him still
Among a thousand. Such a pretty child
As the knight was, and such a roguish boy!
Can this be Palmerin? Who could have fancied
That he should ever be this stalwart man?
_Enter_ SIR PALMERIN, _who, seeing the lady_ FLERIDA,
_who remains motionless, goes to kneel before her._
PALMERIN. Lady, hast thou forgotten Palmerin?
FLERIDA. Were memory dead, that voice would waken it.
PALMERIN. What mean these weeds, these arms?
FLERIDA. That thou, my liege,
Art master in this castle.
PALMERIN. Ah, thy father--
How long have we been orphaned, Flerida?
FLERIDA. Ten moons have shed their light upon his grave.