"How darest thou, if lover, push me even In fancy from thy side, and set me far In the gray distance, half a life away, Her to be loved no more? Unsay it, unswear! Flatter me rather, seeing me so weak, Broken with Mark and hate and solitude, Thy marriage and mine own, that I should suck Lies like sweet wines: lie to me: I believe. Will ye not lie? not swear, as there ye kneel, And solemnly as when ye sware to him, The man of men, our King — My God, the power Was once in vows when men believed the King! They lied not then, who sware, and through their vows The King prevailing made his realm: — I say, Swear to me thou wilt love me even when old, Gray-haired, and past desire, and in despair."
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Idylls of the King
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