The Children's Longfellow: Told in ProseLongfellow, Henry Wadsworth
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The Children's Longfellow: Told in Prose
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth
American poetry -- Adaptations
Lucifer, who was once one of the good angels, had been cast out of
Heaven for the sin of pride. He gathered all the spirits of evil around
him and made himself their leader. His one desire now was to do harm to
all mankind and, by putting wicked thoughts into men's minds, make them
themselves do evil so that he might grieve the good angels and thus take
revenge for the punishment which had been inflicted on him.
Among other wicked deeds he sought to tear down the spire of Strasburg
Cathedral, but was defeated by the good spirits, who kept unceasing
watch and ward over the holy place. Baffled in this attempt, Lucifer
betook himself to a castle on the Rhine, the dwelling of young Prince
Henry of Hoheneck. Prince though he was, his lot was a most unhappy one,
for he was suffering from a deadly disease which the most famous
physicians had been unable to cure. Ill and restless, Prince Henry was
sitting alone at midnight in a tower of his castle, when suddenly there
came a flash of lightning, and Lucifer, disguised as a doctor, stood
before him.
"All hail, Prince Henry!" said the stranger.
"Who are you," asked the Prince, "and what may be your purpose in coming
hither?"
"I am a traveling physician," replied the cunning spirit, "and I can
cure all diseases."
"But not mine," said Prince Henry, mournfully. "I have consulted almost
every famous doctor, but the case is quite beyond their science. Even
the learned doctors of Salerno have sent me back word that they know of
no cure for a malady like this save one, which from its very nature is
impossible."
"What is this mysterious remedy?"
"Read, and you shall see," answered the Prince, handing Lucifer a scroll
on which were these words:
"Not to be cured, yet not incurable!
The only remedy that remains
Is the blood that flows from a maiden's veins,
Who of her own free will shall die,
And give her life as the price of yours!"
"A strange remedy, indeed," said the false physician, "and one which you
will never be able to try. However, I have with me here a wonderful
draught which cures all pain--will you not taste it?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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