So shall I tell how she, sighing and white of face, laid her soft hand
upon his bridle-rein so he could not go from her. Her breath came out of
her like the hissing of a trodden snake, poisoning the ear of the
horseman.

"Bend to me thy proud head, Black Earl," quoth she, "for it shall be low
enough soon. This is a tale I bring to thee of sorrow and shame. Bend me
thy proud neck, Black Roderick, for the burden I must lay upon it shall
bow thee as the snow does the mountain pine. Bend to me thine ear."

To him then she said:

"Where goeth your mistress?"

"What care I?" said the Black Earl, "since she be not thou."

"If she were I," said his lost love, "she would seek no other save thee
alone."

"What sayest thou?" said the Black Earl, pale as death.

"Each night she goeth through the woods of Glenasmole to the hill of brown
Kippure, and there lingereth until the dawn be chill."

"Who hath her love?" saith the Black Earl.

"A shepherd, or mayhap a swineherd--who knoweth?" quoth the serpent voice.
"By no brave prince art thou supplanted."

At this the Black Earl struck his hand upon his breast.