But the Black Earl did not heed or hear anything outside his own thoughts. They were sharper than the bee's sword and less easy to cast aside than the entrapping bramble.
When he reached the castle wherein his bride did dwell, he blew three blasts upon the horn that hung beside the gate, and in answer to his call a voice cried out to him. But what it said I shall sing thee, lest thou grow weary of my prose:
‘Come in, come in, Earl Roderick,
Come in or you be late;
The priest is ready in his stole,
The wedding guests await.’
And then the stern Earl Roderick
From his fierce steed came down;
The sneer still curled upon his lip,
His eyes still held the frown.
He strode right haughtily and quick
Into the banquet hall,
And stood amongst the wedding guests,
The greatest of them all.
