The confidant and keeper faithful!

Forgive me, Northern Orpheus, do,

For recklessly presuming to

Fly after you in my tale playful

And catching in a most quaint lie

Your wayward lyre....

My good friends, I

Know that you heard about the evil

Old wretch, the hapless sinner who

In days of yore sold to the devil

His own soul and his daughters' too;

Of how through charity and fasting

And faith and prayer sincere, long-lasting

And penitence without complaint

He found a patron in a saint;

How, when the hour struck, he died,

How his twelve daughters slept, enchanted.

Stirred were we, yes, and terrified

By visions strangely darkness-mantled,

By Heaven's wrath, the Arch-fiend's fury,

The sinner's torments. With enduring

Delight and joy, let us confess,

We eyed the chaste maids' loveliness,

W^alked with them, sad of heart and weeping,

Around the castle's toothy wall,

Or stayed beside them, vigil keeping

O'er their calm sleep, their peaceful thrall.

We called upon Vadim, exhorted

Him to come soon, and when the blest,

The holy ones awoke, escorted

Them to their father's place of rest.

Yet had we been deceived and dare I

The truth speak and misgiving bury?...