At last, worn out with bootless siege-- Our walls being tall and stout-- The rebel captain neared our gates With a flag of truce held out.
"A word, Sir Hugh, a word with you, Ere yet it be too late; We have a prisoner and would know What is to be his fate.
"Yield up your castle, or he dies! 'Tis thus the bargain stands: His body in our hands we hold, His life is in your hands!"
Sir Hugh looked down across the moat And, in the sunlight fair, He saw the child's blue, frightened eyes And tangled golden hair.
He saw the little arms held out; The little voice rang thin: "O father dear, undo the gates! O father--let me in!"
Sir Hugh leaned on the battlements; His voice rang strong and true: "My son--I cannot let thee in, As my heart bids me do;
"If I should open and let thee in, I let in, with thee, shame: And that thing never shall be done By one who bears our name!
"For honour and our king command And we must needs obey; So bear thee as a brave man's son, As I will do this day."
The boy looked up, his shoulders squared, Threw back his bright blond hair: "Father, I will not be the one To shame the name we bear.
"And, whatsoever they may do, Whether I live or die, I'll bear me as a brave man's son, For that, thank God, am I!"
Then spake Sir Hugh unto the foe, He spake full fierce and free: "Ye cowards, deem ye, ye have affair With cowards such as ye be?
"What? I must yield my castle up, Or else my son be slain? I trow ye never had to do Till now with honest men!
"'Tis but by traitors such as you That such foul deeds be done; Not to betray his king and cause Did I beget my son!
"My son was bred to wield the sword And hew down knaves like you, Or, at the least, die like a man, As he this day shall do!
"And, since ye lack a weapon meet To take so good a life (For your coward steel would stain his blood), Here--take his father's knife!"
With that he flung the long knife down From off the castle wall, It glimmered and gleamed in the brave sunlight, Full in the sight of all.
Sir Hugh passed down the turret stair, We held our breath in awe ... May my tongue wither ere it tell The damnèd work we saw!
When all was done, a shout went up From that accursèd crew, And from the chapel's silence dim Came forth in haste Sir Hugh.