74 
THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. 
“ 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. 
“ Went your glance back—encountering my wife ? ” 
“ Taunt me ! ”  I cried ;  “ I will not be afraid ! ” 
My whole soul weary of the coward strife. 
 
He seemed to see no opening I gave, 
But hated me the more.  Serene and suave, 
He fenced with deep contempt.  I stumble, slip, 
Guard wide—and only move his upper lip. 
“ You know I will not strike, Sir pure and brave ! 
Fight me your best—or I shall find a whip ! ” 
 
That stung me, even me.  He wronged me, so : 
Therefore some shame and hate informed the blow ; 
Some coward’s courage pointed me the steel ; 
Some strength of Hell :  we lunge, and leap, and wheel ; 
Hard breath and laboured hands—the flashes grow 
Swifter and cruel—this court hath no appeal ! 
 
He gladdened then.  I would not slip again 
And baulk the death of half its shame and pain.