the maiden said,
“Doth not thy father love thee well, sweet sir?”
“Ay,” quoth he, “well.”  She answered, “Let the heart
Of Japhet, then, be merry.  Go to him
And say, ’The damsel whom my mother chose,
Sits by her in the house; but as for me,
Sir, ere I take her, let me go with you
To that same outland country.  Also, sir,
My damsel hath not worked as yet the robe
Of her betrothal’; now, then, sith he loves,
He will not say thee nay.  Herein for awhile
Is respite, and thy mother far and near
Will seek again:  it may be she will find
A fair, free maiden.” 
                         Japhet said, “O maid,
Sweet are thy words; but what if I return,
And all again be as it is to-day?”
Then Amarant answered, “Some have died in youth;
But yet, I think not, sir, that I shall die. 
Though ye shall find it even as I had died,—­
Silent, for any words I might have said;
Empty, for any space I might have filled. 
Sir, I will steal away, and hide afar;
But if a wife be found, then will I bide
And serve.”  He answered, “O, thy speech is good;
Now therefore (since my mother gave me thee),
I will reward it; I will find for thee
A goodly husband, and will make him free
Thee also.” 
               Then she started from his feet,
And, red with shame and anger, flashed on him
The passion of her eyes; and put her hands
With catching of the breath to her fair throat,
And stood in her defiance lost to fear,
Like some fair hind in desperate danger turned
And brought to bay, and wild in her despair. 
But shortly, “I remember,” quoth she, low,
With raining down of tears and broken sighs,
“That I am Japhet’s slave; beseech you, sir,
As ye were ever gentle, ay, and sweet
Of language to me, be not harder now. 
Sir, I was yours to take; I knew not, sir,
That also ye might give me.  Pray you, sir,
Be pitiful,—­be merciful to me,
A slave.”  He said, “I thought to do thee good,
For good hath been thy counsel”; but she cried,
“Good master, be you therefore pitiful
To me, a slave.”  And Japhet wondered much
At her, and at her beauty, for he thought,
“None of the daughters are so fair as this,
Nor stand with such a grace majestical;
She in her locks is like the travelling sun,
Setting, all clad in coifing clouds of gold. 
And would she die unmatched?” He said to her,
“What! wilt thou sail alone in yonder ship,
And dwell alone hereafter?” “Ay,” she said,
“And serve my mistress.” 
                           “It is well,” quoth he,
And held his hand to her, as is the way
Of masters.  Then she kissed it, and she said,
“Thanks for benevolence,” and turned herself,
Adding, “I rest, sir, on your gracious words”;
Then stepped into the twilight and was gone.

And Japhet, having found his father, said,
“Sir, let me also journey when ye go.” 
Who answered, “Hath thy mother done her part?”