• And the King said: “The hour is late;
• To-morrow will serve, I ween.”
• Then he charged the usher strictly, and said:
• “No word of this to the Queen.”

• But the usher came again to the King.
• 410“Shall I call her back?” quoth he:
• “For as she went on her way, she cried,
• ‘Woe! Woe! then the thing must be!’”

• And the King paused, but he did not speak.
• Then he called for the Voidee-cup:
• And as we heard the twelfth hour strike,
• There by true lips and false lips alike
• Was the draught of trust drained up.

• So with reverence meet to King and Queen,
• To bed went all from the board;
• 420And the last to leave of the courtly train
• Was Robert Stuart the chamberlain
• Who had sold his sovereign lord.

• And all the locks of the chamber-door
• Had the traitor riven and brast;
• And that Fate might win sure way from afar,
• He had drawn out every bolt and bar
• That made the entrance fast.

• And now at midnight he stole his way
• To the moat of the outer wall,
• 430And laid strong hurdles closely across
• Where the traitors' tread should fall.

• But we that were the Queen's bower-maids
• Alone were left behind;
• And with heed we drew the curtains close
• Against the winter wind.

• And now that all was still through the hall,
• More clearly we heard the rain
• That clamoured ever against the glass
• And the boughs that beat on the pane.

• 440But the fire was bright in the ingle-nook,
• And through empty space around
• The shadows cast on the arras'd wall
• 'Mid the pictured kings stood sudden and tall
• Like spectres sprung from the ground.

• And the bed was dight in a deep alcove;
• And as he stood by the fire
• The King was still in talk with the Queen
• While he doffed his goodly attire.

• And the song had brought the image back
• 450Of many a bygone year;
• And many a loving word they said
• With hand in hand and head laid to head;
• And none of us went anear.

• But Love was weeping outside the house,
• A child in the piteous rain;
• And as he watched the arrow of Death,
• He wailed for his own shafts close in the sheath
• That never should fly again.

• (Alas! in that vault a gap once was
• Wherethro' the King might have fled:
• But three days since close-walled had it been
• By his will; for the ball would roll therein
• When without at the palm he play'd.)

• Then the Queen cried, “Catherine, keep the door,
• And I to this will suffice!”
• At her word I rose all dazed to my feet,
• And my heart was fire and ice.

• 550And louder ever the voices grew,
• And the tramp of men in mail;
• Until to my brain it seemed to be
• As though I tossed on a ship at sea
• In the teeth of a crashing gale.

• Then back I flew to the rest; and hard
• We strove with sinews knit
• To force the table against the door;
• But we might not compass it.

• And Then my wild gaze sped far down the hall
• 560To the place of the hearthstone-sill;
• And the Queen bent ever above the floor,
• For the plank was rising still.

• And now the rush was heard on the stair,
• And “God, what help?” was our cry.
• And was I frenzied or was I bold?
• I looked at each empty stanchion-hold,
• And no bar but my arm had I!

• Like iron felt my arm, as through
• The staple I made it pass:—
• 570Alack! it was flesh and bone—no more!
• 'Twas Catherine Douglas sprang to the door,
• But I fell back Kate Barlass.

• With that they all thronged into the hall,
• Half dim to my failing ken;
• And the space that was but a void before
• Was a crowd of wrathful men.

• Behind the door I had fall'n and lay,
• Yet my sense was wildly aware,
• And for all the pain of my shattered arm
• 580I never fainted there.

• Even as I fell, my eyes were cast
• Where the King leaped down to the pit;
• And lo! the plank was smooth in its place,
• And the Queen stood far from it.

• And under the litters and through the bed
• And within the presses all
• The traitors sought for the King, and pierced
• The arras around the wall.

• And through the chamber they ramped and stormed
• 590Like lions loose in the lair,
• And scarce could trust to their very eyes,—
• For behold! no King was there.

• Then one of them seized the Queen, and cried,—
• “Now tell us, where is thy lord?”
• And he held the sharp point over her heart:
• She drooped not her eyes nor did she start,
• But she answered never a word.

• Then the sword half pierced the true true breast:
• But it was the Græme's own son
• 600Cried, “This is a woman,—we seek a man!”
• And away from her girdle-zone
• He struck the point of the murderous steel;
• And that foul deed was not done.

• And forth flowed all the throng like a sea,
• And 'twas empty space once more;
• And my eyes sought out the wounded Queen
• As I lay behind the door.

• And I said: “Dear Lady, leave me here,
• For I cannot help you now;
• 610But fly while you may, and none shall reck
• Of my place here lying low.”

• And she said, “My Catherine, God help thee!”
• Then she looked to the distant floor,
• And clasping her hands, “O God help him,”
• She sobbed, “for we can no more!”

• But God He knows what help may mean,
• If it mean to live or to die;
• And what sore sorrow and mighty moan
• On earth it may cost ere yet a throne
• 620Be filled in His house on high.