Because I know he hides there in the daytime, and every day he changes his retreat, —
Than e'en my father's hall.
However, the father's hall is not so lovely in reality. And so I sing to him, 'I am going with thee.' What do you suppose he answers me?"
Woulds't thou be willing, maiden, tell,
To lose their rank and race?
Because I was high born.
But ere thou yieldest, weigh it well,
What fate thou hast to face!
"'Art thou a huntsman?' I ask. 'No.' 'A poacher?' 'You have almost guessed,' said he;
When we, the sons of night, have met,
—because you know that all of us, children, mesdames and and messieurs, are very wicked people,—
We take a solemn vow.
What once we were we must forget,
Forget what we are now.
"He sings, 'I guessed it long ago.' I say, 'Thou art a brigand.' Well, it is true; he is a brigand. Yes, he is a brigand. Well, gentlemen, he says, 'Don't you see I am a poor match for you?
O maiden, I was born for strife,
In forests dark I wend.'
"Absolutely true; dark forests; so he says, 'Don't go with me.'
How terrible will be my life!
Because in the dark forests are wild beasts.
How pitiful my end!
"That is not true, children; it will not be pitiful. But then, he and I have thought, and he has thought, and still I answer as before:—
How beauteous Bringal's rugged shore.
Its forests green and tall!
My love and I, we love it more
Than e'en my father's hail.
