Love, I can see their dreams.’  A dim smile flitteth
  Over her lips, and they move as in peace supreme,
And a small thing, silky haired, beside her sitteth,
  ‘O this is thy dream atween us—­this is thy dream.’

Was it then truly his dream with her dream that blended? 
  ‘Speak, dear child dear,’ quoth the queen, ‘and mine own little son.’ 
‘Father,’ the small thing murmurs; then all is ended,
  He starts from that passion of peace—­ay, the dream is done.

XXVIII.

‘I have been in a good land,’
Quoth the king:  ’O sweet sleep bland,
Blessed!  I am grown to more,
Now the doing of right hath moved
Me to love of right, and proved
If one doth it, he shall be
Twice the man he was before. 
Verily and verily,
Thou fair woman, thou didst well;
I look back and scarce may tell
Those false days of tinsel sheen,
Flattery, feasting, that have been. 
Shows of life that were but shows,
How they held me; being I ween
Like sand-pictures thin, that rose
Quivering, when our thirsty bands
Marched i’ the hot Egyptian lands;
Shade of palms on a thick green plot,
Pools of water that was not,
Mocking us and melting away.

XXIX.

I have been a witch’s prey,
Art mine enemy now by day,
Thou fell Fear?  There comes an end
To the day; thou canst not wend
After me where I shall fare,
My foredoomed peace to share. 
And awake with a better heart,
I shall meet thee and take my part
O’ the dull world’s dull spite; with thine
Hard will I strive for me and mine.’

XXX.

A page and a palfrey pacing nigh,
Malva the queen awakes.  A sigh—­
One amazed moment—­’Ay,
We remember yesterday,
Let us to the palace straight: 
What! do all my ladies wait—­
Is no zeal to find me?  What! 
No knights forth to meet the king;
Due observance, is it forgot?’

XXXI.

‘Lady,’ quoth the page, ’I bring
Evil news.  Sir king, I say,
My good lord of yesterday,
Evil news,’ This king saith low,
’Yesterday, and yesterday,
The queen’s yesterday we know,
Tell us thine.’  ‘Sir king,’ saith he,
Hear.  Thy castle in the night
Was surprised, and men thy flight
Learned but then; thine enemy
Of old days, our new king, reigns;
And sith thou wert not at pains
To forbid it, hear also,
Marvelling whereto this should grow
How thy knights at break of morn
Have a new allegiance sworn,
And the men-at-arms rejoice,
And the people give their voice
For the conqueror.  I, Sir king,
Rest thine only friend.  I bring
Means of flight; now therefore fly,
A great price is on thy head. 
Cast her jewel’d mantle by,
Mount thy queen i’ the selle and hie
(Sith disguise ye need, and bread)
Down yon pleached track, down, down,
Till a tower shall on thee frown;
Him that holds it show this ring: 
So farewell, my lord the king.’