ere to repose until his wounds were healed.

XVIII
"While there he wounded lay, upon some need
It chanced Argaeus was compelled to ride.
Quickly that wanton, from his presence freed,
As was her use, my brother's fealty tried.
But he, as one unstained in thought and deed,
So fell a goad no longer would abide;
And to preserve his faith, as lures increased,
Of many evils chose what seemed the least.

XIX
"To break communion with the cavalier,
To him -- of many -- seemed the lightest ill,
And go so far, that wanton should not hear
More of his name: this purpose to fulfil
Was honester (though quitting one so dear
Was hard) than to content her evil will,
Of her foul wishes to her lord impart,
Who cherished her as fondly as his heart.

XX
"And though yet smarting with his wounds and pined,
He dons his arms, and from the tower departs;
And wanders thence with firm and constant mind,
Ne'er to return again into those parts.
But nought availed the purpose he designed;
His projects Fortune baffled with new arts.
This while, behold! the castellain returned,
And bathed in bitter tears the wife discerned.

XXI
"And with flushed face, and hair in disarray,
He asks of her what had disturbed her mood;
Who, ere she in reply a word will say,
Is vainly more than once to answer wooed;
And all the while is thinking in what way
The knight can best with vengeance be pursued.
And well it suited with her fickle vein,
Lightly to change her love into disdain.

XXII
" `Ah! why should I conceal (in fine she cried)
The fault committed while you were away?
For though I it from all the world should hide,
This would my conscience to myself bewray.
The soul, which is with secret evil dyed,
Does with such penitence its fault appay,
As every corporal sufferance exceeds
That thou couldst deal me for my evil deeds;

XXIII
" `If evil be the deed, when done parforce.
But, be it what it may, the mischief know;
Then, with my sword from this polluted corse,
Delivered, let my spotless spirit go;
And quench these wretched eyes, which in remorse,
I, if I lived, on earth must ever throw,
As the least penance of so foul a blame,
And, look on whom they may, must blush for shame.

XXIV
" `My honour has been ruined by thy mate,
Who to this body violence has done,
And fearing lest I all to thee relate,
Without farewell the gra