I listened, believing it all, until deep in my heart hate was born.

Once she showed me her shoulder, the white flesh discolored as if by a blow, swearing that he did it.

The sight maddened me to action.

I left her to seek him at the inn, cursing in my teeth, and caring not what happened, so I killed him.
What boots now the insult offered which forced him to the field?
I can see his face yet, full of wonder at my words, doubting my very sanity; yet I saw only her and that bruised shoulder.

I would kill him, and I did, running my sword through his body, and gazing down remorselessly into his glazing eyes.