ABSTRACT
A Prince there was, long since in time it is. Of Church and State the power and wealth were his. The chase on horse one day to follow, bent; With pompous courtier-train afield he went. A handmaid 1 fair was wand’ring near a grove. Her he espied, and straightway fell in love. His heart was snared; her form its cage, its stall. He lavished gold; and made her thus his thrall. But now, behold the wayward spite of fate! 5 The maid fell sick, this prince’s joy to bate.
