PROLOGUE.
11
Tell one' she said: 'kill him in summer too.'
And 'tell one' cried the solemn maiden aunt.
'Why not a summer's as a winter's tale?
A tale for summer, as befits the time;
And something it should be to suit the place,
Grave, moral, solemn, like the mouldering walls
About us.'
And 'tell one' cried the solemn maiden aunt.
'Why not a summer's as a winter's tale?
A tale for summer, as befits the time;
And something it should be to suit the place,
Grave, moral, solemn, like the mouldering walls
About us.'
Walter warp'd his mouth at this
To something so mock-solemn, that I laugh'd
And Lilia woke with sudden-shrilling mirth
An echo, like an April woodpecker,
Hid in the ruins; till the maiden aunt
(A little sense of wrong had touch'd her face
With colour) turn'd to me:'Well—as you will—
Just as you will,' she said; 'be, if you will,
Yourself your hero.'
To something so mock-solemn, that I laugh'd
And Lilia woke with sudden-shrilling mirth
An echo, like an April woodpecker,
Hid in the ruins; till the maiden aunt
(A little sense of wrong had touch'd her face
With colour) turn'd to me:'Well—as you will—
Just as you will,' she said; 'be, if you will,
Yourself your hero.'
'Look then' added he
'Since Lilia would be princess, that you stoop
No lower than a prince.'
'Since Lilia would be princess, that you stoop
No lower than a prince.'
