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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116125" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Count Gismond</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">AIX IN PROVENCE</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Christ God who savest man, save most<br> Of men Count Gismond who saved me!<br>Count Gauthier, when he chose his post,<br> Chose time and place and company<br>To suit it; when he struck at length<br>My honour, 'twas with all his strength.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And doubtlessly ere he could draw<br> All points to one, he must have schemed!<br>That miserable morning saw<br> Few half so happy as I seemed,<br>While being dressed in queen's array<br>To give our tourney prize away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I thought they loved me, did me grace<br> To please themselves; 'twas all their deed;<br>God makes, or fair or foul, our face;<br> If showing mine so caused to bleed<br>My cousins' hearts, they should have dropped<br>A word, and straight the play had stopped.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They, too, so beauteous! Each a queen<br> By virtue of her brow and breast;<br>Not needing to be crowned, I mean,<br> As I do. E'en when I was dressed,<br>Had either of them spoke, instead<br>Of glancing sideways with still head!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But no: they let me laugh, and sing<br> My birthday song quite through, adjust<br>The last rose in my garland, fling<br> A last look on the mirror, trust<br>My arms to each an arm of theirs,<br>And so descend the castle-stairs—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And come out on the morning-troop<br> Of merry friends who kissed my cheek,<br>And called me queen, and made me stoop<br> Under the canopy—a streak<br>That pierced it, of the outside sun,<br>Powdered with gold its gloom's soft dun—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And they could let me take my state<br> And foolish throne amid applause<br>Of all come there to celebrate<br> My queen's-day—Oh I think the cause<br>Of much was, they forgot no crowd<br>Makes up for parents in their shroud!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">However that be, all eyes were bent<br> Upon me, when my cousins cast<br>Theirs down; 'twas time I should present<br> The victor's crown, but . . . there, 'twill last<br>No long time . . . the old mist again<br>Blinds me as then it did. How vain!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IX</div><div style="margin:10px 0">See! Gismond's at the gate, in talk<br> With his two boys: I can proceed.<br>Well, at that moment, who should stalk<br> Forth boldly—to my face, indeed—<br>But Gauthier, and he thundered "Stay!"<br>And all stayed. "Bring no crowns, I say!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">X</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Bring torches! Wind the penance-sheet<br> About her! Let her shun the chaste,<br>Or lay herself before their feet!<br> Shall she whose body I embraced<br>A night long, queen it in the day?<br>For honour's sake no crowns, I say!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I? What I answered? As I live,<br> I never fancied such a thing<br>As answer possible to give.<br> What says the body when they spring<br>Some monstrous torture-engine's whole<br>Strength on it? No more says the soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Till out strode Gismond; then I knew<br> That I was saved. I never met<br>His face before, but, at first view,<br> I felt quite sure that God had set<br>Himself to Satan; who would spend<br>A minute's mistrust on the end?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He strode to Gauthier, in his throat<br> Gave him the lie, then struck his mouth<br>With one back-handed blow that wrote<br> In blood men's verdict there. North, South,<br>East, West, I looked. The lie was dead,<br>And damned, and truth stood up instead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIV</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This glads me most, that I enjoyed<br> The heart of the joy, with my content<br>In watching Gismond unalloyed<br> By any doubt of the event:<br>God took that on him—I was bid<br>Watch Gismond for my part: I did.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XV</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Did I not watch him while he let<br> His armourer just brace his greaves,<br>Rivet his hauberk, on the fret<br> The while! His foot. . . my memory leaves<br>No least stamp out, nor how anon<br>He pulled his ringing gauntlets on.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XVI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And e'en before the trumpet's sound<br> Was finished, prone lay the false knight,<br>Prone as his lie, upon the ground:<br> Gismond flew at him, used no sleight<br>O' the sword, but open-breasted drove,<br>Cleaving till out the truth he clove.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XVII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Which done, he dragged him to my feet<br> And said "Here die, but end thy breath<br>In full confession, lest thou fleet<br> From my first, to God's second death!<br>Say, hast thou lied?" And, "I have lied<br>To God and her," he said, and died.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XVIII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Gismond, kneeling to me, asked<br> What safe my heart holds, though no word<br>Could I repeat now, if I tasked<br> My powers for ever, to a third<br>Dear even as you are. Pass the rest<br>Until I sank upon his breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XIX</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Over my head his arm he flung<br> Against the world; and scarce I felt<br>His sword (that dripped by me and swung)<br> A little shifted in its belt:<br>For he began to say the while<br>How South our home lay many a mile.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XX</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So 'mid the shouting multitude<br> We two walked forth to never more<br>Return. My cousins have pursued<br> Their life, untroubled as before<br>I vexed them. Gauthier's dwelling-place<br>God lighten! May his soul find grace!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XXI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our elder boy has got the clear<br> Great brow; tho' when his brother's black<br>Full eye shows scorn, it . . . Gismond here?<br> And have you brought my tercel[2] back?<br>I just was telling Adela<br>How many birds it struck since May.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Browning">Robert Browning</a> from <i>Cavalier Tunes</i><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116125" data-title="Count Gismond de Robert Browning" data-description="AIX IN PROVENCE/I/Christ God who savest man, save most/ Of men Count Gismond who saved me!/Count Gauthier, when he chose his post,/ Chose time and place and company/To suit it; when he struck at length/My honour, 'twas with all his strength./II/An..."></div>
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