Ludmila's gone, the field's deserted.

The wizard crows in joy. ''I'm free!"

He cries. "All danger is averted."

But he is wrong, as we shall see.

Farlaf, by old Nahina aided,

On horseback makes for Kiev; he

Is full of hope and fear. The maiden

Across the saddle lies asleep.

Ahead, the Dnieper, cold and deep,

Already shows, its waters flowing

Mid native leas; the city's glowing

Gold domes and wooden walls draw near.

Here is the gate! The townsfolk cheer,

And mill about, excitement mounting.

Word to the Prince is sent. Before

The eyes of all, at palace door

We see the knavish youth dismounting.

Meanwhile, Vladimir, called Bright Sun,

Was in his lofty terem sitting,

And, filled with sorrow unremitting,

On his loss brooding. Round him, glum,

His knights and boyars sat, a pompous,

Stone-visaged lot. A sudden rumpus

Is heard without: yells, shouts, a din;

The portal opes. A knight comes in.

Who can he be? Why the intrusion?

All rise. A murmur fills the room,

Grows louder. General confusion.

Ludmila rescued! And by whom! -

Farlaf, of all men! Strange! The Prince,

Changed wholly now of countenance,

Starts from his chair and, heavy-footed

Hastes to his long-lost daughter's side.