Among green cucumbers, like to a sunbeam
Stol’n from behind a cloudlet, when it falls
Upon a bit of flint upon a plain,
Or ’mid green meadows on a shallow pool.
The Count dismounted, sent his servants home;
Himself in secret towards the garden went.
He reached at length the paling, in it found
An opening, and silently crept in,
Like wolf into a sheep-fold. By mischance
He struck some bushes of dry gooseberry.
The pretty gardener, as though she feared
The rustle, looked around, but nothing saw;
Yet ran she to the garden’s other side.
But at her side the Count, among the sorrel,
Among the burdock leaves, among the grass,
Sprang onwards like a frog, on hands and knees,
Quite close to her, on, crawling silently.
At last he put his head out, and beheld
A wondrous spectacle. In this part of
The orchard, cherry-trees grew here and there,
Among them cereals of different kind,
Expressly mixed together; wheat and maize,
And beans, long-bearded rye, and peas, and millet
And even flowers and bushes. For the poultry
The housekeeper this garden had invented,
Her glory. Madame Poultry she was called,
And Mistress Turkey was her maiden name.
An epoch her invention constitutes
In housekeeping, now known to every one;
But at that time as yet a novelty,
Communicated to not many persons,
Under strict secrecy; before it was
Thus published in the almanac, by title;
“A remedy for hawks and kites, or a
New means of rearing poultry.” I was such
A garden as this one. Thus, scarce the cock
Standing as sentinel, and motionless
His beak upturning, and his crested head
To one side bending, so that he might aim
At heaven easier with his glance, may see
A hawk suspended in the clouds, he crows;
At once the hens take refuge in this garden,
Even geese and peacocks, and in sudden fright
Pigeons, who find no safety on the roof.
But now no foe was visible in heaven,
And only the fierce heat of summer burned.
The birds hid from it in that wood of corn;
Some lay among the grass, some slept in sand.
Among the birds’ heads, little human ones
Stood forth, uncovered; on them were short locks
As white as flax, necks to the shoulders bare.
Among them sat a damsel, one head taller,
With longer locks; behind the children sat
A peacock, with the circle of his plumes
Wide-spreading, in a rainbow many-hued,
On which the small fair heads, as on a picture’s
Background, against the deep blue, took on lustre,
Defined by circle of the peacock eyes,
Like to a starry garland; in the corn
They gleamed as though in a transparency,
Amid the golden stalks of Indian corn,
With silver streaks of English clover decked,
And coral mercury, and verdant mallow;
The mingled forms and colours seemed to make
A woven lattice-work of gold and silver,
That waved upon the wind like a light veil.
Above the thicket of the many-coloured
Corn-ears and stalks, hung like a canopy,
A shining mist of butterflies, those called
“Old women;” and whose fourfold wings, as light
As webs of spiders, and as clear as glass,
Suspended in the air, may scarce be seen;
And though they make a humming, thou wouldst think
They were immovable. The damsel waved
A plume of grey, uplifted in one hand,
Like to a bunch of ostrich feathers. She
Appeared therewith from off the infant heads
To chase the golden rain of butterflies;
And in her other hand a something gleamed,
Horn-shaped and shining. It would seem a vessel
For feeding children, for unto the lips
Of each in turn she neared it. In its shape
It looked like Amalthea’s golden horn.
Thus busied, ne’ertheless she turned her head
Towards the direction of that well-remembered
Trampling of gooseberry bushes; not aware
That the invader drew already near,
From the side opposite, and like a snake
On creeping, till he from the burdocks sprang.
She looked; he stood quite near; removed from her
Four garden beds apart, and low he bowed.
She turned away her head, and raised her arms;
And, like a frightened jay, she tried to fly.
Her light feet flew already o’er the leaves,
When, frightened by the coming of the stranger,
And by the damsel’s flight, the children shrieked
Most terribly. She heard it, and she felt
It were imprudent thus to leave alone
The little, timid children. She returned,
Herself controlling; but she must return,
Like an unwilling spirit, whom a wizard
Compels by adjuration; she ran up,
To play with the most noisy of the children.
She sat beside it on the ground, she took it
Upon her lap, the others she caressed,
With hand and fondling speech, until they all
Again were quiet, with their little hands
Her knees encircling, and their little heads
To her close-pressing, like to little chickens
Under their mother’s wing. She said: “Is it
Pretty to cry like that? Is it polite?
This gentleman will be afraid. He is
Not come to frighten us; he is not an old
And ugly beggar. He’s a visitor,
And a good gentleman: just look how pretty.”
She looked herself. The Count well pleased did smile,
And visibly was grateful unto her
For so much praise. She soon bethought herself,
Was silent, dropped her eyes, and like a rosebud
She blushed. A pretty gentleman he was
In truth, of right good beauty, with a face
Of oval form, pale cheeks, but of fresh hue;
Blue eyes and gentle; long, fair hair; thereon
Were leaves of plants, and grass-blades, which the Count
Had plucked away while crawling through the beds
Like woven wreath they decked his locks with green.
“O thou!” he said; “by whatsoever name
I may adore thee, be thou nymph or goddess,
Spirit or vision, speak! hath thine own will
Led thee on earth, or do a stranger’s bonds
Retain thee prisoner in this earthly vale?
Alas! I guess the truth! some lover scorned,
Some powerful lord, or envious guardian,
Holds thee enchanted in this castle-park!
Thou art worthy gallant knights should fight for thee,
To be a heroine of sad romance!
Unfold to me, O fair one, all the secrets
Of this thy cruel fate, and thou shalt here
Find a deliverer! Henceforth at thy beck,
As thou dost rule my heart, rule thou my arm!”
And forth he stretched his arm. With maiden blush
She listened, but with merry countenance,
As children love to see bright-coloured pictures,
Or can amusement find in shining counters,
Before they learn their worth. These words sweet-sounding
Thus did caress her hearing, though she knew not
Their sense. At length she asked him: “Whence, sir, come you?
What are you seeking in the garden beds?”
The Count his eyes wide opened. Much confused,
Astonished, he was
