Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 36.djvu/133

To her thatched hut, where wedlock's bands
Were to unite their hearts and hands.
Robert his steed begins to stride,
With sorrow takes his future bride;
With horror seized, and red with shame,
He often strove to throw the dame,
Or drown her, but was by the law
Of chivalry still kept in awe.
The lady with her knight delighted
To him her race's deeds recited,
How the great Clovis' royal sword
The bosoms of three monarchs gored,
Who were his friends, yet could obtain
Pardon and heaven's high favor gain.
From heaven she saw the famed dove bring
To Remi, that illustrious king,
The flask and oil so highly prized,
Which he was smeared with when baptized.
With all her narratives she blended
Thoughts and reflections well intended,
Sallies of wit, remarks refined,
Which, without calling off the mind,
Attention in who heard excited,
And both instructed and delighted.
Still does our knight with eager ears
Devour the stories that he hears;
Charmed when he heard his wife, but when
He saw, the unhappiest of men.
At length the ill-matched couple came
To the thatched cabin of the dame;
Preparing things with eager haste,
The table for her spouse she placed;