“What hue of frost lies upon thy skin?
What pain is in thy heart?
Too oft thee saw the night winds roam
Or watched the cold dawns mist.”
“How can one so fair
Be so cold and loth to love another?
What ice lies in thy eyes
What dew upon thy face?”
“Why do thee fear me, shield maid
And not the spear nor sword?
For what art thee to cry for
When love and hate are one?”
And he reached forth his withered hand and places it upon her sleeve, and the lady of Rohan spat in his face and pulled herself from his keen stare
“Poision art thee! And how could I
Not desire a man of pure heart?
For, ill snake, I desire freedom
And that is not thee, for thy part”
But her eyes were afraid as she said her say, and her cold face looked upon his cold face, and in the uneasy silence she flead the hall.
“But he has his love, lady”