XI.
So they dance, there, on the marble stairs.
Truly blissful, for true love is theirs.
In the pearly moonlight, he and she
Pledge their hearts for all eternity.
Music permeates the glitt'ring hall
Laughing chatter floats down from the ball
Prince and Princess hear it not, for they
Share a world together, far away.
But, e'en now, eleven bells do chime.
Thus, once more, is Love betrayed by Time.
"Leave me not tonight," pleads Faravel,
"I do grow to dread the midnight bell."
Lura shakes her head. "It is bad form,
Promising what one may not perform."
"Ah, then thou wilt go!" the prince cries, "- Why? –
Wherefore must thou always from me fly?"
Lura answers not. In truth, she bears
In her heart some secret, troubling fears.
Once she was a rich princess, 'tis true,
But, what now? What if her lover knew
She was Thousand-Furs, the kitchen hand?
Lowest, poorest servant in the land!
With no rank, nor fortune of her own -
Would he love her still, if all were known?
Sadly Lura muses on these things
'Til the herald bell of midnight rings.
"I must go," says she, "I must away."
Vainly doth the prince beg her to stay:
Back into the night she fain would steal!
- In her haste to go she does not feel
Faravel slip that small golden band
On the wedding finger of her hand.