THE WITCH.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!

RAPUNZEL.

See on the marble parapet, I lean my brow, strive to forget That fathoms below my hair grows wet With the dew, my golden hair.

THE PRINCE.

I rode throughout the town, Men did not bow the head, Though I was the king's own son: He rides to dream, they said.

THE WITCH.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Wind up your hair!

RAPUNZEL.

See on the marble parapet, The faint red stains with tears are wet; The long years pa.s.s, no help comes yet To free my golden hair.

THE PRINCE.

For leagues and leagues I rode, Till hot my armour grew, Till underneath the leaves I felt the evening dew.

THE WITCH.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Weep through your hair!

RAPUNZEL.

And yet: but I am growing old, For want of love my heart is cold; Years pa.s.s, the while I loose and fold The fathoms of my hair.

THE PRINCE, _in the morning_.

I have heard tales of men, who in the night Saw paths of stars let down to earth from heaven, Who followed them until they reach'd the light Wherein they dwell, whose sins are all forgiven;

But who went backward when they saw the gate Of diamond, nor dared to enter in; All their life long they were content to wait, Purging them patiently of every sin.

I must have had a dream of some such thing, And now am just awaking from that dream; For even in grey dawn those strange words ring Through heart and brain, and still I see that gleam.

For in my dream at sunset-time I lay Beneath these beeches, mail and helmet off, Right full of joy that I had come away From court; for I was patient of the scoff

That met me always there from day to day, From any knave or coward of them all: I was content to live that wretched way; For truly till I left the council-hall,

And rode forth arm'd beneath the burning sun, My gleams of happiness were faint and few, But then I saw my real life had begun, And that I should be strong quite well I knew.

For I was riding out to look for love, Therefore the birds within the thickets sung, Even in hot noontide; as I pa.s.s'd, above The elms o'ersway'd with longing towards me hung.

Now some few fathoms from the place where I Lay in the beech-wood, was a tower fair, The marble corners faint against the sky; And dreamily I wonder'd what lived there:

Because it seem'd a dwelling for a queen, No belfry for the swinging of great bells.

No bolt or stone had ever crush'd the green Shafts, amber and rose walls, no soot that tells

Of the Norse torches burning up the roofs, On the flower-carven marble could I see; But rather on all sides I saw the proofs Of a great loneliness that sicken'd me;

Making me feel a doubt that was not fear, Whether my whole life long had been a dream, And I should wake up soon in some place, where The piled-up arms of the fighting angels gleam;

Not born as yet, but going to be born, No naked baby as I was at first, But an armed knight, whom fire, hate and scorn Could turn from nothing: my heart almost burst

Beneath the beeches, as I lay a-dreaming, I tried so hard to read this riddle through, To catch some golden cord that I saw gleaming Like gossamer against the autumn blue.

But while I ponder'd these things, from the wood There came a black-hair'd woman, tall and bold, Who strode straight up to where the tower stood, And cried out shrilly words, whereon behold--

THE WITCH, _from the tower_.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!

THE PRINCE.

Ah Christ! it was no dream then, but there stood (She comes again) a maiden pa.s.sing fair, Against the roof, with face turn'd to the wood, Bearing within her arms waves of her yellow hair.

I read my riddle when I saw her stand, Poor love! her face quite pale against her hair, Praying to all the leagues of empty land To save her from the woe she suffer'd there.

To think! they trod upon her golden hair In the witches' sabbaths; it was a delight For these foul things, while she, with thin feet bare, Stood on the roof upon the winter night,

To plait her dear hair into many plaits, And then, while G.o.d's eye look'd upon the thing, In the very likenesses of Devil's bats, Upon the ends of her long hair to swing.

And now she stood above the parapet, And, spreading out her arms, let her hair flow, Beneath that veil her smooth white forehead set Upon the marble, more I do not know;

Because before my eyes a film of gold Floated, as now it floats. O unknown love, Would that I could thy yellow stair behold, If still thou standest the lead roof above!

THE WITCH, _as she pa.s.ses_.

Is there any who will dare To climb up the yellow stair, Glorious Rapunzel's golden hair?

THE PRINCE.

If it would please G.o.d make you sing again, I think that I might very sweetly die, My soul somehow reach heaven in joyous pain, My heavy body on the beech-nuts lie.

Now I remember what a most strange year, Most strange and awful, in the beechen wood I have pa.s.s'd now; I still have a faint fear It is a kind of dream not understood.

I have seen no one in this wood except The witch and her; have heard no human tones, But when the witches' revelry has crept Between the very jointing of my bones.

Ah! I know now; I could not go away, But needs must stop to hear her sing that song She always sings at dawning of the day.

I am not happy here, for I am strong,

And every morning do I whet my sword, Yet Rapunzel still weeps within the tower, And still G.o.d ties me down to the green sward, Because I cannot see the gold stair floating lower.

RAPUNZEL _sings from the tower_.