Page:Poet Lore, volume 34, 1923.djvu/42

 prince? Yet I do not take it ill that thou art so kind. Thou hast touched me, Mahulena. I am harsh, I know. Harsh to thee too, at times; but believe me that I am not evil.

Mahulena.—No, thou art not, mother.

Runa.—And thy sisters do not understand thee! They think of nothing today but of those splendid banquets, of choral dances, song and merriment. Thou carest not for revelry, and thy pale face would be strangely out of keeping there among the others. Thy being is like the song of the lark or the thrush; it is most beautiful in solitude. So I will grant thee that thou come not to the feasts Art thou content?

Mahulena.—How my strength returns! Each word of thine is like a drop of balsam O give me thy hand to kiss!

Runa.—Very well, very well, child One thing more! I am marvelously gentle today That prince—I hate him, it is true; however, to gratify thy deep compassion I wish today even towards him to be less harsh! Since in the whole palace there will be so much merriment—let that prince rejoice too!

Mahulena.—O mother, my mother! How the queen of Magura would bless thee for those words!

Runa.—O, she will bless me, no doubt of it, when she learns what I have done this day.

Mahulena.—Thou sayest that with a strange smile.

Runa.—O, I remembered how harshly I have treated that son of hers and so that doubt occurred to me of her blessing me. Radúz is no longer in the tower. He is chained to the highest summit of the Eagles’ Crag. But five steps can he walk about, and he endures storm, wind, and rain Do not grow pale again; do not weep, my child. Soon I shall relieve him. My revenge is sated. Thou knowest the steep footpath to the summit of the mountain? It is well concealed; only a dumb messenger knows it, he who each day brings to Radúz bread and water. However, dost thou not fear that if thou shouldst go there he would strangle thee? His arms are free.

Mahulena.—Radiz is good as the smiling sunshine of spring, which warms and gilds the whole world! His heart is like a meek dove which knows not what evil is! And that path I know; often have I sat at the foot of that peak: there quiet reigns; only the forests rustle below, and the birds which nest there sing as nowhere else!