Ballads of the Page and Princess

Alto Solo
The old king rode out into the woods,
What a hunting it is today!
The charger pants, the bugle sounds
The pack of hounds barks in the bushes.

Chorus
Off on the hunt!  Off on the hunt!
Ye huntsmen, off to the deer-stalking!
We want to hunt down the deer,
The noble red stag.

The day dawns in freshness,
The stag returns from the field;
Let us be off cheerily into the bushes,
To his habitual feeding track!

Alto Solo
And when the sun stood at midday,
There in the enclosure of beech trees
The king's rosy-cheeked daughter
Strayed from the path.

She rides gently; with her rides
The page with the blonde hair,
And were she not the child of the king,
They would make the most beautiful couple.

He gazes at her, his heart quakes,
The forest becomes ever more dense,
He blushes from cheek to forehead,
With burning cheeks he speaks:

Page
You lovely, lovely princess,
I can no longer keep it from you,
My young heart, it breaks for love,
My heart, it belongs to you.

Oh if I could but a single time
Kiss you upon your red lips!
I would be the happiest man in the world,
Even if I had to die for doing it.

Alto Solo
She speaks not yea, she speaks not nay,
She checks the horse's reins,
And as she swings herself from the saddle,
He holds the stirrup for her.

Princess
Come, let us wander in the deep woods!

Page
How shady are the bowers!

Princess
And do you hear the sweet nightingale?

Page
And the cooing turtledoves?

Princess
Oh see the red wild rose,
How it blooms in the green moss,...

Page
Oh, just like the red wild rose,
My heart burns and glows!

Princess
... see the red wild rose,
I will pick it for you, beloved man!

Page
I will fasten it to my heart!

Princess
And do you hear the sweet nightingale?

Princess and Page
Oh how wonderful to love, [what a] blessed lot!

Alto Solo
They rest on the moss by the wild rose,
Their steeds they leave to grazing,
They no longer hear the nightingale
Nor the bugling of the hunters.

You old king, do not look out for her!
The most beautiful of princesses
Has, in the page's embrace,
Forgotten you and the world.

Chorus from afar
Ye huntsmen, off to the deer-stalking,
Ye huntsmen, off to the chase!

Alto Solo
Two riders ride out from the king's palace,
They ride down to the shore;
The wind whistles up high,
The waves break foamingly on the shoreline.

Up the pathway along the shore,
They rode in oppressive silence;
Blood runes from ancient times.
Stand above carved into the rock.

King (with a dark mien)
Now page of mine, to me, the king,
Disclose in an open spirit:
Who, my good fellow, gave you the rose;
The rose upon your hat?

Page
The rose was given to me by my mother,
When anxiously she let me go forth;
I put it in water every night,
Thus it blooms every morning.

King
Whose is the curl that I saw
Wound upon your breast,
When a moment ago the vigorous ride
Caused your riding jerkin to gape open?

Page
That is the light brown hair of my sister,
As fine and soft as silk!
It is sweetly scented with oil of roses,
She wept upon it when we parted.

King (more vehemently)
Now speak, and tell me truly,
My fellow, your life is at stake:
Who gave you the ring upon your finger,
The golden ring?

Page
She who gave me the ring upon my finger,
Also gave to me her heart;
(with fire)
She is the most beautiful maiden
In all of your kingdoms!

King
The ring is the ring of my child!
I know its gleam well.

Page
Woe! Your forehead is furrowed with rage!
I see the blood runes burning!

King
Ha! If you dared in audacious desire
To court her love,
I take no pity upon your young, fresh life,
You must die!

Page
I must die!

King
You are for death! Well then, my sword,
Cool the fellow's little heart for him!

Page
Woe! Woe! Woe!

King
And may the flood devour your body,
And if your aspirations be so lofty,
You may now court
The queen of the water nymphs!

Alto solo
Along the shore toward the castle
Rides home a gloomy rider;
Out into the sea floats the corpse,
The waves continue to roar.

Chorus
About the runic stone in the summer night
The water nymphs play;
The water sounds, the breeze sings,
The moon stands high in the blue heavens.

There is a splashing and laughing, a surging and a diving -
Beings rise and fall like lilies,
Golden hair floats upon the waters,
White limbs shimmer.

Bass Solo
With a beard of rushes, the merman blows
His coiled shell trumpet,
The nymphs dance their winding dance to his blowing,
They are in the best of spirits.

With a giggle, the youngest suddenly cries:

Nymph (Soprano I)
Oh look what I found in the waves!
A shining, beckoning skeleton,
It gleams as brightly as silver.

I bumped against the coral reef with my foot
While I was merrily diving,
There it lay in the branches [of coral], I pulled it out;
Now do tell, what could we do with it?

Queen
What to do with it?  Ha, 'tis a fine find!
Who knows about such things?
The bony thing is bonny and fair,
Let us make a harp out of it.

Come, Rush-Beard, you old musician,
You are well-versed in such things;
I will bestow a swordfish upon you to use as your steed
If you manage to complete the task.

Merman
Give the skeleton to the merman,
He will complete the task with consummate skill,

Chorus
Thanks to the merman!

Merman
From the fingers he makes fine tuning pegs,
From the sternum he fashions the frame.

Chorus
Thanks to the merman!

Merman
Lend, queen, to me some of your golden hair
I will stretch the strands across [the frame] as harp strings;

Now sounds the harp upward and downward;
You waves, cease your roaring,
You wind hold quietly your breath,
And fall asleep while listening!

You seagulls, fly to the shore,
Little goldfish, rise from the depths of the sea;
The very air listens, the sea listens,
Enchanted all about.

Chorus
Enchanted all about,
Hark, hark,
Now the harp resounds upward and downward,
The waves cease their roaring,
The wind quietly holds its breath,
And falls asleep while listening.

The seagull flies to the shore,
Little goldfish rise from the depths of the sea,
The very air listens, the sea listens,
Enchanted all about.

Merman
Enchanted all about.

Chorus
Hark, hark, hark well, hark well,
Enchanted all about,
Hark well, hark well, hark well.

Chorus
The rooms sparkle in the king's palace,
Come hither with flutes and violins;
The king's beautiful daughter
Is dancing her wedding dance in the palace.

Alto Solo
She is wearing the wreath of myrtles in her hair,
But she goes about mute and constrained;
Upon her breast she wears a blooming rose,
But her cheeks, they are so pale.

She is dancing with a foreign prince,
He wears royal purple and silk;
But more handsome, a thousand times more handsome was
The lad in page's attire.

Chorus
Hail! Hail to the bride! The bride! The noble bride!
Come hither with flutes and violins!

At the golden table twelve maidens stand
To serve the sparkling wine;
Twelve pages circle around the bridal pair
With flaming torches and wreaths.

Merman (from the distrance)
Ha, be still! Fine palace beside the sea,
Listen to the merman's harping!

Chorus
The torches flicker out, the violins go mute --

King
Tell me, what is the meaning of this silence?

Musician
Lord King, do not enflame in rage,
We cannot blow [our horns] or bow [our violins];
The merman is playing the harp before your palace,
We must give way to the merman.

Chorus
Hark!  How it wafts up from the sea!
Oh sweet, sorrowful reverberation!
It creeps so gently through the night
Up into the halls [of the castle].

It creeps so gently into the ear of the bride;
It seems to her, as if from the depths,
As if from the depths with all-encompassing power
Her dearest lover were calling her.

Princess
The power of the song makes my poor heart
Dissolve in death!

And though my knight is wonderfully resplendent
In his shining finery,
Ah, more handsome, a thousand times more handsome was
The lad in page's attire.

Chorus
It creeps so gently through the twilit night
Into the festive halls [of the castle].
From out of [the princess's] curls the myrtle wreath
Falls wilted at her feet.

Alto solo
The king shudders in his very marrow,
He flees in horror from the sound;
The foreign prince hastens
To his horses in the stable.

Chorus
In the festive hall lies the pale bride,
Her heart has burst;
The morning light gloomily illumines the windows,
The echoes of the merman's harp have faded away.