Page:The Queens Court Manuscript with Other Ancient Bohemian Poems, 1852, Cambridge edition.djvu/95

Lustful Zbyhon is there, there the maid makes her moan—
“Ope, ope to the hunter!” The door’s not undone.
With his mace the strong youth breaks open the door,
’Neath his mace Lord Zbyhon lies dead on the floor.
He storms thro’ the castle, and all doth slay,
With his lovely maid till morn doth stay.
Thro’ the tree-tops cometh the morning sun,
New joy’s in the heart of the youth begun,
That his own bright maid in all her charms
He cradles fond in his mighty arms.
“Whose dove?” “Her Zbyhon did seize and keep,
“When he brought me here to the castle steep.”
“Away to the woods!” To the wood she flew,
And flutter’d here and there anew,
From tree to tree with her consort fleet,
And on one branch they slumber’d sweet.
Glad smiles the maid at her lover's side,
Together at will they wander wide,
The bridegroom and his rescued bride.

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