Classic Poem

First, Franchise in humility advanced
Toward Danger, who was fierce and valorous,
And contumelious and savage seemed.
Within his fist he grasped a mighty club
And grimly brandished it and whirled it round
With blows so perilous that never a shield,
Were it not magic, could the blows withstand.
If one who made a stand opposing him
Were once but fairly smitten with that mace,
He might as well for vanquished yield himself;
For Danger could quite overcome and crush
A man who knew not well the art of arms
From our Refusal's Wood he got his club,
The ugly churl, whom I repudiate!
Vilification formed the embroidery
Upon his shield, which was made up of Strife.
Franchise, for her part, was so strongly armed
That she could not be easily o'ercome.
Because she knew so well herself to guard,
She rushed at Danger first, to force the gate.
In hand she held a stout lance, polished fair,
Brought from the Forest of Cajolery.
No better timber grows in Fontainebleau.
Seductive Imploration steeled the shaft.
With great devotion she had formed her shield
Of Supplication such as monks ne'er made,
And its embroidery was palm-joined hands
And promises and covenants and vows
And pledges colored most entrancingly.
You would have said it was Largesse had lent
A shield that she herself had carved and dyed,
So much it seemed to be her handiwork.
Protecting now her body with this shield,
She raised her lance and threw it at the churl.
Then he no coward proved, but rather seemed
Renoart of the Pole come back to life.
His shield was pierced, but it so sturdy proved
That his coat armor felt no injury;
And with it he contrived to fend the blow
So well that he no body-wound received.
The lance head broke and lessened thus its force.
The furious, savage churl was well supplied
With arms. He seized and broke her lance
In little pieces with his mighty mace;
And then he aimed a fierce and powerful stroke,
Meanwhile exclaiming, " Dirty, lecherous whore,
What now prevents that I should strike you down?
How comes it you're so hardy as to dare
Assail a nobleman? " Then with sure blow
He struck the shield of that sweet, worthy maid
So courteous, and made her back recoil
More than a fathom and in agony
Fall to her knees, while he insulted her
And rained more blows, the least of which had killed
If she had had a shield of common wood.
Said he, " In former times I trusted you,
Foul harlot! Worn-out wench! No good e'er came
Of it; your flattery betrayed me quite.
To ease that libertine, at your request,
I granted him his wish to kiss the Rose.
The Devil must have made me say that word!
Good-natured fool he found me! By God's flesh,
'Twas evil day when he assailed our tower;
And so it is but fitting now that you should die! "