No, that is not right . . . Or perhaps it is . . . But why sing? Ah, I had rather not exist in the world . . . not exist . . . (Bursts into silent tears.)
Vratko (Who has approached timidly).—Maiden! . . . Mahulena! . . . It breaks my heart to see thee weeping so silently.
Mahulena.—ls it thou? Welcome! Is thy babe well?
Vratko.—Nay, do not smile so through thy tears: that pains me even more! I know what tortures thee . . .
Mahulena.—Who told thee?
Vratko.—O, fear not! “Who our piteous plight would betray, may he be struck dumb!” So ran thy song. May I speak; may I?
Mahulena.—What wouldst thou tell me, my good Vratko?
Vratko.—I would fain speak to thee of Radúz.
Mahulena.—O, Vratko, Vratko, whither have they taken him? He is no longer in that tower! Is he alive, is he well?
Vratko.—Thou knowest the unapproachable summits beyond yonder forest . . . There somewhere Radúz is suffering. But the paths are steep and hidden . . .
Mahulena.—O, my hinds have shown me those paths; I know them, and my foot bears me as securely and surely as an eagle is borne by its strong pinions. Where then is he; where does Radúz breathe and suffer?
Vratko.—That I know not; I cannot say for sure.
Mahulena.—Thou art slaying me thus! First thou dost offer me hopes and then thou dost take them back again!
Vratko.—If thou wouldst only listen patiently! I cannot speak with skill, my words seem to roll around in my mouth, I speak too seldom, I whistle more with the birds; but when I see thy sorowful eyes gazing at me so anxiously I do not know what I am saying.
Mahulena.—My good Vratko, speak, and I will be silent and listen patiently.
Vratko.—It is five days since my old father was in the forest clearing. I carry him out into the sun at times, that it may warm his old limbs. Thus he lay in the tall grass as on his own couch, half dozing. Suddenly he heard many footsteps. He has acute sight and acute hearing, though in all else he is as weak as a child. By him, and at no long distance, passed the men who were leading the prince, bound. They did not see father, since he was buried in the grass. And one of them carried a heavy ring and
