“He did not ask me how I sped: disdain
Curled his old lips: he said one bitter thing.
‘You crossed the bridge—no man’s heart trod you there?’
Then crossed his breast in uttering some prayer:
‘I pray you follow of your courtesy,
My lord!’ I followed very bitterly.
“Likes you the sword I gave?” I did not dare
Answer one word. My soul was hating me.
He bade me draw. I silently obeyed.
My eye shirked his as blade encountered blade.
I was determined he should take my life.” [via]