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Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875

"The Saint's Tragedy"

Ut sis vitalis metuo, puer!
Ger. Hail, fathers. I have asked permission of the prior to
minister your refection, and bring you thereby the first news of the
pageant.
1st Monk. Blessings on thee for a good boy. Give us the trenchers,
and open thy mouth while we open ours.
2d Monk. Most splendid all, no doubt?
Ger. A garden, sir,
Wherein all rainbowed flowers were heaped together;
A sea of silk and gold, of blazoned banners,
And chargers housed; such glorious press, be sure,
Thuringen-land ne'er saw.
2d Monk. Just hear the boy!
Who rode beside the bier?
Ger. Frederic the Kaiser,
Henry the Landgrave, brother of her husband;
The Princesses, too, Agnes, and her mother;
And every noble name, sir, at whose war-cry
The Saxon heart leaps up; with them the prelates
Of Treves, of Coln, and Maintz--why name them all?
When all were there, whom this our fatherland
Counts worthy of its love.
1st Monk. 'Twas but her right.
Who spoke the oration?
Ger. Who but Conrad?
2d Monk. Well--
That's honour to our house.
1st Monk. Come, tell us all.
2d Monk. In order, boy: thou hast a ready tongue.


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