'"
The Norman on his warriors looked--to counsel they withdrew;
The Saints took pity on the Franks, and moved the soul of Rou.
So back he strode, and thus he spoke, to that archbishop meek,
"I take the land thy king bestows, from Eure to Michael-peak,
I take the maid, or foul or fair, a bargain with the coast,
And for thy creed,--a sea-king's gods are those that give the most.
So hie thee back, and tell thy chief to make his proffer true,
And he shall find a docile son, and ye a saint in Rou."
So o'er the border stream of Epte came Rou the Norman, where,
Begirt with barons, sat the king, enthroned at green St. Clair;
He placed his hand in Charles's hand,--loud shouted all the throng,
But tears were in King Charles's eyes--the grip of Rou was strong.
"Now kiss the foot," the bishop said, "that homage still is due;"
Then dark the frown and stern the smile of that grim convert Rou.
He takes the foot, as if the foot to slavish lips to bring;
The Normans scowl; he tilts the throne and backward falls the king.
Loud laugh the joyous Norman men.--pale stare the Franks aghast;
And Rou lifts up his head as from the wind springs up the mast:
"I said I would adore a God, but not a mortal too;
The foot that fled before a foe let cowards kiss!" said Rou.
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