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64 "She follows hard the footsteps of a youth Like shade of slaughtered foe, sometimes reveals Herself in midst of banquets, mixing blood In cups of joy. I have heard the song—too well, Alas! 'Tis done, 'tis done! I know thee, traitor! Thou winnest! War! what triumph for a poet! Give to me wine; now my designs are working.

"I know the song's end. No! I'll sing another. When on the mountains of Castile I fought, There the Moors taught me ballads. Old man! play That melody, that childish melody, Which in the valley,—'twas a blessed time; Unto that music did I ever sing. Return at once, old man, for by all gods, German or Prussian―"

The old man must return. He struck the lute, and with uncertain voice Followed the savage tones of Konrad, as A slave may walk behind his angry lord.

Meanwhile the lights went out upon the table. The knights had slumbered at the lengthy banquet, But Konrad sings, and they awake again. They stand, and, in a narrow circle pressed, Attentive marked the ballad's every word.