I, Sebald, also, pluck from off the staff The crimson banner; let it lie below, Above it in the wind let grasses laugh. Now let us go, love, down the winding stair, With fingers intertwined: ay, feel my sword! I wrought it long ago, with golden hair Flowing about the hilts, because a word, Sung by a minstrel old, had set me dreaming Of a sweet bow'd down face with yellow hair; Betwixt green leaves I used to see it gleaming, A half smile on the lips, though lines of care Had sunk the cheeks, and made the great eyes hollow; What other work in all the world had I, But through all turns of fate that face to follow? But wars and business kept me there to die. O child, I should have slain my brother, too, My brother, Love, lain moaning in the grass, Had I not ridden out to look for you, When I had watch'd the gilded courtiers pass From the golden hall. But it is strange your name Is not the same the minstrel sung of yore; You call'd it Rapunzel, 'tis not the name. See, love, the stems shine through the open door. _Morning in the woods._ RAPUNZEL. O love! me and my unknown name you have well won; The witch's name was Rapunzel: eh! not so sweet? No! but is this real grass, love, that I tread upon? What call they these blue flowers that lean across my feet? THE PRINCE. Dip down your dear face in the dewy grass, O love! And ever let the sweet slim harebells, tenderly hung, Kiss both your parted lips; and I will hang above, And try to sing that song the dreamy harper sung. _He sings._ 'Twixt the sunlight and the shade Float up memories of my maid: God, remember Guendolen! Gold or gems she did not wear, But her yellow rippled hair, Like a veil, hid Guendolen! 'Twixt the sunlight and the shade, My rough hands so strangely made, Folded Golden Guendolen. Hands used to grip the sword-hilt hard, Framed her face, while on the sward Tears fell down from Guendolen. Guendolen now speaks no word, Hands fold round about the sword: Now no more of Guendolen. Only 'twixt the light and shade Floating memories of my maid Make me pray for Guendolen. GUENDOLEN. I kiss thee, new-found name! but I will never go: Your hands need never grip the hammer'd sword again, But all my golden hair shall ever round you flow, Between the light and shade from Golden Guendolen. _Afterwards, in the Palace._ KING SEBALD. I took my armour off, Put on king's robes of gold; Over the kirtle green The gold fell fold on fold. THE WITCH, _out of hell_.