'
And fate hath blown me hither, bound me too
With bitter obligation to the Count--
Have I not fought it out?
And fate hath blown me hither, bound me too
With bitter obligation to the Count--
Have I not fought it out?
Tennyson
Ay, and perchance a happy one for thee,
Provided--I will go with thee to-morrow--
Nay--but there be conditions, easy ones,
So thou, fair friend, will take them easily.
_Enter_ PAGE.
PAGE. My lord, there is a post from over seas
With news for thee. [_Exit_ PAGE.
WILLIAM. Come, Malet, let us hear!
[_Exeunt_ COUNT WILLIAM _and_ MALET.
HAROLD. Conditions? What conditions? pay him back
His ransom? 'easy '--that were easy--nay--
No money-lover he! What said the King?
'I pray you do not go to Normandy.
'
And fate hath blown me hither, bound me too
With bitter obligation to the Count--
Have I not fought it out? What did he mean?
There lodged a gleaming grimness in his eyes,
Gave his shorn smile the lie. The walls oppress me,
And yon huge keep that hinders half the heaven.
Free air! free field!
[_Moves to go out. A_ MAN-AT-ARMS _follows him_.
HAROLD (_to the_ MAN-AT-ARMS).
I need thee not. Why dost thou follow me?
MAN-AT-ARMS. I have the Count's commands to follow thee.
HAROLD. What then? Am I in danger in this court?
