The Golden Legend Part 24

_Elsie._ Alas! Prince Henry!

_Lucifer._ Come with me; this way.

(ELSIE _goes in with_ LUCIFER, _who thrusts_ PRINCE HENRY _back and closes the door._)

_Prince Henry._ Gone! and the light of all my life gone with her!

A sudden darkness falls upon the world!

_Forester._ News from the Prince!

_Ursula._ Of death or life?

_Forester._ You put your questions eagerly!

_Ursula._ Answer me, then! How is the Prince?

_Forester._ I left him only two hours since Homeward returning down the river, As strong and well as if G.o.d, the Giver, Had given him back in his youth again.

_Ursula (despairing)._ Then Elsie, my poor child, is dead!

_Forester._ That, my good woman, I have not said.

Don't cross the bridge till you come to it, Is a proverb old, and of excellent wit.

_Ursula._ Keep me no longer in this pain!

_Forester._ It is true your daughter is no more;-- That is, the peasant she was before.

_Ursula._ Alas! I am simple and lowly bred I am poor, distracted, and forlorn.

And it is not well that you of the court Should mock me thus, and make a sport Of a joyless mother whose child is dead, For you, too, were of mother, born!

_Forester._ Your daughter lives, and the Prince is well!

You will learn ere long how it all befell.

Her heart for a moment never failed; But when they reached Salerno's gate, The Prince's n.o.bler self prevailed, And saved her for a n.o.bler fate, And he was healed, in his despair, By the touch of St. Matthew's sacred bones; Though I think the long ride in the open air, That pilgrimage over stocks and stones, In the miracle must come in for a share!

_Ursula._ Virgin! who lovest the poor and lonely, If the loud cry of a mother's heart Can ever ascend to where thou art, Into thy blessed hands and holy Receive my prayer of praise and thanksgiving!

Let the hands that bore our Saviour bear it Into the awful presence of G.o.d; For thy feet with holiness are shod, And if thou bearest it he will hear it.

Our child who was dead again is living!

_Forester._ I did not tell you she was dead; If you thought so 'twas no fault of mine; At this very moment, while I speak, They are sailing homeward down the Rhine, In a splendid barge, with golden prow, And decked with banners white and red As the colors on your daughter's cheek.

They call her the Lady Alicia now; For the Prince in Salerno made a vow That Elsie only would he wed.

_Ursula._ Jesu Maria! what a change!

All seems to me so weird and strange!

_Forester._ I saw her standing on the deck, Beneath an awning cool and shady; Her cap of velvet could not hold The tresses of her hair of gold, That flowed and floated like the stream, And fell in ma.s.ses down her neck.

As fair and lovely did she seem As in a story or a dream Some beautiful and foreign lady.

And the Prince looked so grand and proud, And waved his hand thus to the crowd That gazed and shouted from the sh.o.r.e, All down the river, long and loud.

_Ursula._ We shall behold our child once more; She is not dead! She is not dead!

G.o.d, listening, must have overheard The prayers, that, without sound or word, Our hearts in secrecy have said!

O, bring me to her; for mine eyes Are hungry to behold her face; My very soul within me cries; My very hands seem to caress her, To see her, gaze at her, and bless her; Dear Elsie, child of G.o.d and grace!

(_Goes out toward the garden._)

_Forester._ There goes the good woman out of her head; And Gottlieb's supper is waiting here; A very capacious flagon of beer, And a very portentous loaf of bread.

One would say his grief did not much oppress him.

Here's to the health of the Prince, G.o.d bless him!

(_He drinks._)

Ha! it buzzes and stings like a hornet!

And what a scene there, through the door!

The forest behind and the garden before, And midway an old man of threescore, With a wife and children that caress him.

Let me try still further to cheer and adorn it With a merry, echoing blast of my cornet!

(_Goes out blowing his horn._)

THE CASTLE OF VAUTSBERG ON THE RHINE.

PRINCE HENRY _and_ ELSIE _standing on the terrace at evening. The sound of bells heard from a distance._

_Prince Henry._ We are alone. The wedding guests Ride down the hill, with plumes and cloaks, And the descending dark invests The Niederwald, and all the nests Among its h.o.a.r and haunted oaks.

_Elsie._ What bells are those, that ring so slow, So mellow, musical, and low?

_Prince Henry._ They are the bells of Geisenheim, That with their melancholy chime Ring out the curfew of the sun.

_Elsie._ Listen, beloved.

_Prince Henry._ They are done!

Dear Elsie! many years ago Those same soft bells at eventide Rang in the ears of Charlemagne, As, seated by Fastrada's side At Ingelheim, in all his pride He heard their sound with secret pain.

_Elsie._ Their voices only speak to me Of peace and deep tranquillity, And endless confidence in thee!

_Prince Henry._ Thou knowest the story of her ring, How, when the court went back to Aix, Fastrada died; and how the king Sat watching by her night and day, Till into one of the blue lakes, That water that delicious land, They cast the ring, drawn from her hand; And the great monarch sat serene And sad beside the fated sh.o.r.e, Nor left the land forever more.

_Elsie._ That was true love.

_Prince Henry._ For him the queen Ne'er did what thou hast done for me.

_Elsie._ Wilt thou as fond and faithful be?