Sixth Book

But I, convicted, broken utterly,

With woman's passion clung about her waist,

And kissed her hair and eyes,—'I have been wrong,

Sweet Marian,.. (weeping in a tender rage)

'Sweet holy Marian! And now, Marian, now,

I'll use your oath although my lips are hard,

And by the child, my Marian, by the child,

I'll swear his mother shall be innocent

Before my conscience, as in the open Book

Of Him who reads for judgment. Innocent,

My sister! let the night be ne'er so dark,

The moon is surely somewhere in the sky:

So surely is your whiteness to be found

Through all dark facts. But pardon, pardon me,

And smile a little, Marian,—for the child,

If not for me, my sister.'

The poor lip