"Rise, stalwart mine, all's calm around you,",

The crone says. "Here's your charger; you

Need fear, good youth, no dangers new."

At this the knight crawled slowly out

And looked around him in some doubt.

Relieved, he uttered sighing deeply:

"I do believe I got off cheaply....

The Lord be thanked! No broken bones!'

"Ludmila's far away," the crone's

Next words were, "and though we be tempted

To try and find her, to attempt it

Is most unwise.... No, no," she drones,

"We'll not succeed: too many hurdles,

And, all in all, to roam the world is

A rather risky enterprise;

You'd soon regret it. I advise

You to go straightway home to Kiev;

On your estate your days you'll spend

In ease, behind you danger leaving -

Ludmila won't escape us, friend!"

With this she vanished, and our knight,

The flame of love well-nigh extinguished

And dreams of martial fame relinquished,

Set off for home. 'Twas not yet night,

But any noise however slight,

A rustling leaf, a bird in flight,

A brook's song put him in a sweat.

But let us now Farlaf forget

Across a wood we see him ride....

In thought he lovingly embraces

His only love, his fair young bride.

"My wife," he cries, "my own Ludmila,

Will e'er I find you, dear one, will I

Your gaze full of enchantment meet