As though he were its master, utterly.
True women are like Nature, their great mother,
Stirred on the surface by each passing wind,
But ruled by silent forces at the heart.
She caught her breath a moment in surprise,--
For naught has to the mind more of surprise
Than the sweet long-expected, if it come
When one expects it not,--and paused a space,
With downcast eyes; and then her woman-soul
Went out in sudden impulse, graciously,
In boundless thought for him who gave her all.
"O Sanpeur, love one worthier than I,
And where your love will not be guerdonless!"

"To love you is a guerdon of itself,
You are so well worth loving, Gwendolaine."

He passed with knightly bow, and joined the court,
And left her with a glory in her eyes.
Never was Gwendolaine so radiant
As on that evening; courtiers one by one
Drew near, and marvelled at her loveliness.
When the great feast was ended, she was well
Content to leave the court for Tormalot;
For, in the quiet of her chamber, when
Sir Torm had slept, she lived in thought again
The sure triumphant moment when she knew,
Beyond all peradventure, of a love
That her heart told her was above all love
Of other men in strength and purity.