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Translated by Louisa Stuart Costello
I. THE LITTLE heiress had no care, | |
| Nor other thought in life she knew, | |
| Than play and gambol free as air, | |
| As great lords’ daughters wont to do. | |
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| This year the heiress plays no more, | 5 |
| An orphan, she laments in vain, | |
| Her father left her wondrous store,— | |
| ’T were well her kindred’s word to gain. | |
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| “Alas! my only friend, farewell! | |
| No love have I from kindred known, | 10 |
| My death were news they fain would tell, | |
| And then my wealth were all their own!” | |
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| But Kéroulaz’ fair heiress now | |
| Should be as happy as the day, | |
| For flowers of gold are round her brow, | 15 |
| She wears rich gowns embroidered gay; | |
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| She has no latchets to her shoes, | |
| But stockings all of silk so bright, | |
| Such as an heiress well may choose, | |
| And little shoes of satin white. | 20 |
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| So thought the guests, when at the ball | |
| She looked as bravely as a bride; | |
| The Marquis led her through the hall, | |
| His wily mother at his side. | |
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| “O that I were a bird to fly | 25 |
| There, where I might my ear incline, | |
| As in her chamber secretly | |
| His wily mother speaks to mine. | |
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| “My heart is sick,—alas! I fear | |
| Some deep design their steps have led; | 30 |
| They come not idly wandering here, | |
| And know an heiress is to wed! | |
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| “De Mesle a noble name may be, | |
| He may have wealth, perchance, in store, | |
| But Kerthomaz is dear to me, | 35 |
| And will be loved forevermore.” | |
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| Kerthomaz looked with heart oppressed, | |
| As guests came trooping far and near; | |
| He loved that gentle maid the best, | |
| As he to her alone was dear. | 40 |
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| “O that I were the bird of night | |
| That on the rose-tree sings so fair, | |
| To see her when she comes all bright | |
| To gather roses for her hair! | |
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| “Were I a bird upon the lake | 45 |
| Where maidens lave the robes she wears, | |
| My thirst in that dear wave to slake, | |
| And swell the waters with my tears.” | |
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II. That Saturday the evening brought | |
| Another youth who loved her too, | 50 |
| Young Salaün yon halls has sought, | |
| As he had long been fond to do. | |
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| He forward spurred his small black steed, | |
| And at the castle gate he stood; | |
| The heiress came herself with speed | 55 |
| To give an aged woman food. | |
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| “O, tell me, gentle heiress, pray, | |
| Where are the gallant nobles gone?” | |
| “They all have sought the chase to-day, | |
| Why linger you behind alone?” | 60 |
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| “I came not, lady, for the chase. | |
| I came to Kéroulaz for you, | |
| I came to look upon your face, | |
| And tell you that I love you true!” | |
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III. “My heart is sad, each day the same,” | 65 |
| The heiress to her mother cried; | |
| “’T is since the Marquis hither came,— | |
| O mother! make me not his bride! | |
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| “My hand to any other give,— | |
| Let Pennanrum decide my lot, | 70 |
| Or Salaün my troth receive, | |
| I care not, so De Mesle ’t is not! | |
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| “If I the best of all might name, | |
| One you have not denied is he, | |
| O, if a boon I dared to claim, | 75 |
| Kerthomaz should my bridegroom be.” | |
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| “Now, good Kerthomaz, tell me all, | |
| And let the truth dwell on your tongue; | |
| Say, have you been to Kastelgall, | |
| And saw you aught of vile or wrong?” | 80 |
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| “I saw a hall all filled with smoke, | |
| With broken casements flapping round; | |
| I saw the doors all black and broke, | |
| But ne’er a page nor groom I found. | |
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| “An aged crone was chopping hay, | 85 |
| No corn her master would afford; | |
| Nor better is the feast each day | |
| That crowns De Mesle the miser’s board!” | |
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| “Now shame, Kerthomaz, you have lied; | |
| The Marquis dwells in pomp and state, | 90 |
| His castle shines with costly pride, | |
| And menials at his bidding wait. | |
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| “Both blest and honored is her lot | |
| Whom he shall ask his bride to be—” | |
| “O mother, since I seek it not, | 95 |
| Such honor is not grace to me!” | |
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| “O daughter, urge me not again, | |
| I seek for you a happy home, | |
| My word is given, your tears are rain, | |
| You must the Marquis’ bride become.” | 100 |
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| The dame of Kéroulaz was moved, | |
| For jealousy lurked in her heart; | |
| Kerthomaz secretly she loved, | |
| And wished the heiress should depart. | |
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| The maiden’s heart was like to break,— | 105 |
| “He gave me pledges oft of yore, | |
| O, blithe was I those gifts to take, | |
| O, sadly I those gifts restore! | |
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| “Kerthomaz, take your golden chain, | |
| Your ring, your seal, I now resign; | 110 |
| I dare not any pledge retain, | |
| Since I, alas! may not be thine!” | |
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IV. That heart was hard that would not melt | |
| To see what looks the heiress cast, | |
| How sadly at her gates she knelt, | 115 |
| And kissed the threshold as she passed: | |
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| “Farewell, dear Kéroulaz, farewell! | |
| And all the scenes I prized of yore, | |
| My friends, my love, I greet ye well, | |
| I shall behold you nevermore!” | 120 |
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| The poor were weeping one and all,— | |
| “O, mourn not thus,” the heiress cried, | |
| “Come to me straight at Kastelgall, | |
| And all your wants shall be supplied; | |
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| For every day large alms I ’ll give, | 125 |
| And wheat and oats and barley fine, | |
| Three times a week ye shall receive,— | |
| I will not spare the wealth that ’s mine.” | |
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| The Marquis frowned upon his bride,— | |
| “You shall not squander thus my store, | 130 |
| What means this idle boast?” he cried, | |
| “I ’ll have no beggars swarm my door!” | |
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| “My lord, no gold of thine I crave, | |
| Yet shall my alms each day be given, | |
| That through the prayers we thus shall have, | 135 |
| Our souls may find some grace in heaven.” | |
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V. Two months were past,—“O, is there none | |
| That dares my messenger to be, | |
| And make it to my mother known | |
| What luckless fate has chanced to me!” | 140 |
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| Then softly spake a gentle page: | |
| “Dear lady, write a letter straight, | |
| And I my truth and faith engage | |
| To leave it at thy mother’s gate.” | |
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| The heiress made but small delay, | 145 |
| The page to Kéroulaz has hied, | |
| Where in the hall, with knights so gay, | |
| Her mother sat in pomp and pride. | |
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| Kerthomaz stood amidst the rest, | |
| But when the letter they unfold, | 150 |
| Sad fears are in the mother’s breast, | |
| Kerthomaz’ cheek is pale and cold. | |
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| “O, quick the grooms, Kerthomaz, call, | |
| To saddle straight our swiftest steeds, | |
| We must to-night to Kastelgall, | 155 |
| My daughter much our presence needs!” | |
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| When at the castle gate they rung, | |
| The mother said, “What means this cheer? | |
| Why is the door with mourning hung, | |
| What heavy chance has fallen here?” | 160 |
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| “The heiress that two months ago | |
| The Lord de Mesle went hence to wed, | |
| Is cause of all these marks of woe, | |
| That gentle dame to-night is dead.” | |
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| “O, if that lady is no more,” | 165 |
| The mother cried in accents wild, | |
| “’T is I who crushed that lovely flower, | |
| ’T is I have killed my only child! | |
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| “Her tears my pride could never move, | |
| She would not be the Marquis’ bride, | 170 |
| But said, ‘Kerthomaz is my love, | |
| And I can love no man beside!’” | |
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| Kerthomaz from the world is fled, | |
| You abbey walls conceal his care; | |
| The mother, to all comfort dead, | 175 |
| Devotes her life to God in prayer. | |
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