In the Servants’ Quarters

“MAN, you too, aren’t you, one of these rough followers of thecriminal?All hanging hereabout to gather how he’s going to bearExamination in the hall.” She flung disdainful glances onThe shabby figure standing at the fire with others there,Who warmed them by its flare.

“No indeed, my skipping maiden: I know nothing of the trial here,Or criminal, if so he be.—I chanced to come this way,And the fire shone out into the dawn, and morning airs are cold now;I, too, was drawn in part by charms I see before me play,That I see not every day.”

“Ha, ha!” then laughed the constables who also stood to warmthemselves,The while another maiden scrutinized his features hard,As the blaze threw into contrast every line and knot that wrinkledthem,Exclaiming, “Why, last night when he was brought in by the guard,You were with him in the yard!”

“Nay, nay, you teasing wench, I say! You know you speak mistakenly.Cannot a tired pedestrian who has footed it afarHere on his way from northern parts, engrossed in humble marketings,Come in and rest awhile, although judicial doings areAfoot by morning star?”

“O, come, come!” laughed the constables. “Why, man, you speak thedialectHe uses in his answers; you can hear him up the stairs.So own it. We sha’n’t hurt ye. There he’s speaking now! HissyllablesAre those you sound yourself when you are talking unawares,As this pretty girl declares.”

“And you shudder when his chain clinks!” she rejoined. “O yes, Inoticed it.And you winced, too, when those cuffs they gave him echoed to us here.They’ll soon be coming down, and you may then have to defend yourselfUnless you hold your tongue, or go away and keep you clearWhen he’s led to judgment near!”

“No! I’ll be damned in hell if I know anything about the man!No single thing about him more than everybody knows!Must not I even warm my hands but I am charged with blasphemies?” . . .—His face convulses as the morning cock that moment crows,And he stops, and turns, and goes.