Bohemian legends and other poems/Břetislav
BŘETISLAV.
Before the gate a harper stands,
And begs that he may enter in.
“’Tis well to praise one’s native land,
And hear its songs. Yes, let him in,
Open the gate and let him sing,
That every idle care take wing.”
Thus ordered the prince Oldřich.
The singer entered, young of mein,
And lowly bowed before the prince.
Then stooping low, he kissed the seam
Of Božena’s dress, wife of the prince.
Before the golden throne he stood,
And struck the harp with tones that would
But make his song the sweeter.
“A rich young man once loved a girl,
A maid without compare;
But cloister walls they hid his pearl,
His heart was in despair.
“How many weary days he spent
In wandering round the walls;
Then in a happy hour he went,
And sang before those halls.
“‘Oh, rosy lips, what say ye now,
Within that cloister cold?
Look from thy window, see me now,
A minstrel singing bold.’
“‘Oh listen,’ said a far-off voice,
‘Singer, of lovely song;
Take out your sword and be your choice,
To save me from this throng.’
“‘Oh, thanks be to that simple song!
Oh, thanks be to the sky!
My life I’ll give to right thy wrong,
Or very gladly die.’
“He went and donned a pilger robe,
Then came with footsteps slow;
One could not see beneath that robe
The sabre hanging low.
“He found them singing a sweet hymn,
While on their knees they prayed.
He stood awhile and heard their hymn—
Hand on his sword he laid.
“On to the church they singing went,
Chanting ‘Zion! Zion!’
With one bound in their midst he went,
Like a roaring lion.
“Between the shrieks and screams of fear,
He caught the girl he loved.
Then turned him to the drawbridge near,
Carrying the maid he loved.
“The keeper of the drawbridge saw,
And would have stopped their flight.
He drew the bridge up, ’twas his law,
To have the chain draw right.
“The youth drew out his mighty sword,
He cut the chain in two.
The links were severed by his sword,
And on the bridge they flew.
“The keeper of the bridge stood pale,
The nuns were sore afraid;
The servants they set up a wail,
But all that did not aid.
“I wonder if you now can tell,
Who was this youth so bold?
Who cut the strong chain quick and well,
With lady in his hold?”
The harper ceased, his song was done,
And low he bowed before the throne.
The youths they whispered every one,
“It is not true,” in undertone;
“For who can cut an iron chain,
E’en with a sword that hath no stain?
The singer singeth nonsense.”
Prince Oldřich smiled, and asked his wife,
Božena, if she knew his thought?
“It seems to me ’tis true to life.
And that the youth his loved one sought.
I feel that Břetislav, our son,
Could do this deed beneath the sun,
As well as that bold stripling.”
And see the door flew open wide,
While youth and maiden entered in.
They bow, and to his father’s side
Břetislav leads his loved one in.
“Yes father, you are right, your son
Did do this deed, beneath the sun,
To win his loved one, Jitka.”