o the monster's heart;
And then they told him how his lord the King
Had late proclaim'd through all the country round,
That whosoe'er should slay the noisome Beast,
Should straight be knighted by his kingly sword,
And honour'd greatly in the rescued land.

Yet none was found so stout of heart and limb,
To venture in this perilous emprize;
"But ah!" they said, supposing him far off,
"If famous Guy were here, there were a man
Would rid us of this monster presently.
But as for him, he speeds away through France,
Bearing to other lands his strength, that, faith,
Were better spent at home amongst his kin."

And still the East wind bluster'd to the shore.

Now Guy, whose ears still tingled all the day
With these strange murmurs of the troubled land,
Began to feel his heart with pity move;
And, for his soul still fretted at delay,
Like a leash'd hound that scents the flying game,
He straight resolved to take this quarrel up,
And for his country's weal to slay the Beast.

So he arose, girt on his trusty sword,
And with his bow and quiver slung behind,
And at his belt his mighty battle-axe,
Rode calmly forth to slay the hurtful Beast.
And no man knew that he was Guy, for all
Believed him far away on foreign shores;
Which pleased him passing well, "Because," he said,
"I do this thing for Phoelice and the King,
And none shall know but Heaven that sees the deed.
But when the country feels returning joy,
Her heart will flutter with a secret thought."

And all the land was desolate and waste;
The fields stood rotting 'neath the Autumn rains,
And no man pluckt the sodden corn that lay,
Dead ripe, along the furrows 'mid the weeds;
No cattle browsed upon the long rank grass,
Or paused to gaze upon him as he rode;
The cottages, deserted all in haste,
Stood open-door'd and rifted by the winds,
With cold grey ashes scatter'd o'er the hearth.
Here he beheld the homely meal spread forth,
Which no man ate; and there, upon the floor,
An o'erturn'd cradle, whence a mother late
Had snatch'd her babe up with a cry, and fled.

And all his heart was sore with what he saw,
For he met none to wish him once "God speed;"
So he spurr'd onward swifter to the place
Where lurk'd the monster that thus spoil'd the land;
And long the road seem'd to him in his wrath.
At last he came unto the fearful spot,
Mark'd with the blanching bones of man and beast;
A thicket planted by a lonely heath,
O'ergrown with brambles and unwholesome weeds,