wings: though his outside is so enchanting, he is not a bit better disposed than the others. He is continually employed in raising storms, tearing up forests by the roots, and blowing castles and convents about the ears of their inhabitants. The first has a daughter, who is queen of the elves and fairies: the second has a mother, who is a powerful enchantress. Neither of these ladies are worth more than the gentlemen. I do not remember to have heard any family assigned to the two other d?mons, but at present I have no business with any of them except the fiend of the waters. He is the hero of my ballad; but I thought it necessary, before I began, to give you some account of his proceedings.”
Theodore then played a short symphony; after which, stretching his voice to its utmost extent, to facilitate its reaching the ear of Agnes, he sung the following stanzas:
THE WATER-KING,
With gentle murmur flowed the tide,
While by the fragrant flowery side
The lovely maid, with carols gay,
To Mary’s church pursued her way.
The water-fiend’s malignant eye
Along the banks beheld her hie;
Straight to his mother-witch he sped,
And thus in suppliant accents said:
“Oh! mother! mother! now advise,
How I may yonder maid surprise:
Oh! mother! mother! now explain,
How I may yonder maid obtain.”
The witch, she gave him armour white;
She formed him like a gallant knight;
Of water clear next made her hand
A steed, whose housings were of sand.
The water-king then swift he went;
To Mary’s church his steps he bent:
He bound his courser to the door,
And paced the church-yard three times four.
His courser to the door bound he,
And paced the church-yard four times three:
Then hastened up the aisle, where all
The people flocked, both great and small.
The priest said, as the knight drew near,
“And wherefore comes the white chief here?”
The lovely maid, she smiled aside;
“Oh! would I were the white chief’s bride!”
He stepped o’er benches one and two;
“Oh! lovely maid, I die for you!”
He stepped o’er benches two and three;
“Oh! lovely maiden, go with me!”
Then sweet she smiled, the lovely maid;
And while she gave her hand, she said,
“Betide me joy, betide me woe,
O’er hill, o’er dale, with thee I go.”
The priest their hands together joins:
They dance, while clear the moon-beam shines;
And little thinks the maiden bright,
Her partner is the water-spright.
Oh! had some spirit deigned to sing,
“Your partner is the water-king!”
The maid had fear and hate confessed,
And cursed the hand which then she pressed.
