When to this far-famed city Matthew came, 40
  There rose great outcry through the sinful tribe,
  That cursed throng of Mermedonians. 
  Soon as those servants of the Devil learned
  The noble saint was come unto their land,
  They marched against him, armed with javelins;
  Under their linden-shields they went in haste,
  Grim bearers of the lance, to meet the foe. 
  They bound his hands; with foeman’s cunning skill
  They made them fast—­those warriors doomed to hell—­ 50
  With swords they pierced the jewel of his head. 
  Yet in his heart he honored Heaven’s King,
  Though of the drink envenomed he had drunk,
  Of virtue terrible; steadfast and glad,
  With courage unabashed, he worshiped still
  The Prince of glory, King of heaven above;
  And from the prison rose his holy voice. 
  Within his noble breast the praise of Christ
  Stood fast imprinted; weeping tears of woe,
  With sorrowful voice of mourning he addressed 60
  His Lord victorious, speaking thus in words:—­
  “Behold how these fierce strangers knit for me
  A chain of mischief, an ensnaring net. 
  Ever have I been zealous in my heart
  To do Thy will in all things; now in grief
  The life of the dumb cattle I must lead. 
  Thou, Lord, alone, Creator of mankind,
  Dost know the hidden thoughts of every heart. 
  O Prince of glory, if it be thy will 70
  That with the sword’s keen edge perfidious men
  Put me at rest, I am prepared straightway
  To suffer whatsoever Thou, my Lord,
  Who givest bliss to that high angel-band,
  Shalt send me as my portion in this world,
  A homeless wanderer, O Lord of hosts. 
  In mercy grant to me, Almighty God,
  Light in this life, lest, blinded in this town
  By hostile swords, I needs must longer bear
  Reviling words, the grievous calumny
  Of slaughter-greedy men, of hated foes. 80
  On Thee alone, Protector of the world,
  I fix my mind, my heart’s unfailing love;
  So, Father of the angels, Lord of hosts,
  Bright Giver of all bliss, to Thee I pray,
  That Thou appoint me not among my foes,
  Artificers of wrong forever damned,
  The death most grievous on this earth of Thine.”

    After these words there came to his dark cell
  A sacred sign all-glorious from heaven,
  Like to the shining sun; then was it shown 90
  That holy God was working aid for him. 
  The voice of Heaven’s Majesty was heard,
  The music of the glorious Lord’s sweet words,
  Wondrous beneath the skies.  To His true thane
  Brave in the fight, in dungeon harsh confined,
  He promised help and comfort with clear voice:—­
  “Matthew, My peace on earth I give to thee;
  Let not thy heart be troubled, neither mourn
  Too much in mind; I will abide with thee,
  And I will loose thee from these bonds