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I would as yet remain to close thine eyes,
And live, so that the glory of thy deed,
I to the world may tell, to ages show.
I'll traverse Litwa's castles, hamlets, towns;
And where I pass not, there my song shall fly.
The bard shall sing them unto knights in war,
And women sing them for their babes at home.
Aye! they shall sing them, and in future days
Some venger shall arise from out our bones."^[1]

Alf fell upon the window-sill with tears.
And long, long time upon the tower he gazed.
As though he yet his gaze would satiate
With those dear sights he shortly must forego.
He hung on Halban's neck; they mixed their sighs.
In that embrace of long and last farewell.
But at the bolts they heard a steely rattle,
And armèd men came in, and called Alf's name.

"Traitor, thy head must fall beneath the sword;
Repent thee of thy sins, prepare for death!
Behold this old man, chaplain of the Order,
Cleanse thou thy soul and make a fitting end!"

1. "Exoriare aliquis ex ossibus nostris ultor."
   —Æneid, B. iv. l. 625.