| |
| “WHAT was the end? I am ashamed | |
| Not to remember Reynard’s fate; | |
| I have not read the book of late; | |
| Was he not hanged?” the Poet said. | |
| The Student gravely shook his head, | 5 |
| And answered: “You exaggerate. | |
| There was a tournament proclaimed, | |
| And Reynard fought with Isegrim | |
| The Wolf, and having vanquished him, | |
| Rose to high honor in the State, | 10 |
| And Keeper of the Seals was named!” | |
| At this the gay Sicilian laughed: | |
| “Fight fire with fire, and craft with craft; | |
| Successful cunning seems to be | |
| The moral of your tale,” said he. | 15 |
| “Mine had a better, and the Jew’s | |
| Had none at all, that I could see; | |
| His aim was only to amuse.” | |
| |
| Meanwhile from out its ebon case | |
| His violin the Minstrel drew, | 20 |
| And having tuned its strings anew, | |
| Now held it close in his embrace, | |
| And poising in his outstretched hand | |
| The bow, like a magician’s wand, | |
| He paused, and said, with beaming face; | 25 |
| “Last night my story was too long; | |
| To-day I give you but a song, | |
| An old tradition of the North; | |
| But first, to put you in the mood, | |
| I will a little while prelude, | 30 |
| And from this instrument draw forth | |
| Something by way of overture.” | |
| |
| He played; at first the tones were pure | |
| And tender as a summer night, | |
| The full moon climbing to her height, | 35 |
| The sob and ripple of the seas, | |
| The flapping of an idle sail; | |
| And then by sudden and sharp degrees | |
| The multiplied, wild harmonies | |
| Freshened and burst into a gale; | 40 |
| A tempest howling through the dark, | |
| A crash as of some shipwrecked bark, | |
| A loud and melancholy wail. | |
| |
| Such was the prelude to the tale | |
| Told by the Minstrel; and at times | 45 |
| He paused amid its varying rhymes, | |
| And at each pause again broke in | |
| The music of his violin, | |
| With tones of sweetness or of fear, | |
| Movements of trouble or of calm, | 50 |
| Creating their own atmosphere; | |
| As sitting in a church we hear | |
| Between the verses of the psalm | |
| The organ playing soft and clear, | |
| Or thundering on the startled ear. | 55 |
| |
