The Emperor followed and was amazed at seeing a lady, beautiful beyond any he had ever beheld, holding in one hand a lily and wearing a broad girdle as of steel and gold, which shone like diamonds. The dogs fawned round her when the Emperor addressed her, but as he spoke she sank into the ground, and left no trace.
The Emperor came the second day also, alone, and beheld her again, when she disappeared as before.
The third day he told the whole to Virgil, and took the sage with him. And when the lady appeared Virgil touched her with his wand, and she stood still as a statue.
Then Virgil said:
“Oh, my lord, consider well this Lady of the Lily, and especially her girdle; for in the time when that lady shall lose that girdle Florence will gain more in one year than it now increases in ten.”
And with this the lady vanished as before, and they returned home.
VIRGIL AND THE DAUGHTER OF THE EMPEROR OF ROME.
“As the lily dies away
In the garden, in the plain,
Then as beautiful and gay
In the summer comes again;
So may life, when love is o’er,
In a child appear once more.”
The following strange legend, which was taken down by Maddalena from some authority to me unknown, near Arezzo, is so imperfectly told in the original, and is, moreover, so evidently repieced and botched by an ignorant narrator, that I at first rejected it altogether; but finding on consideration that it had some curious relations with other tales, I determined to give it for what it may be worth.
Once the Emperor of Rome was in his palace very melancholy, nor could he rally (ralegrarla), do what he might. Then he went forth into the groves to hear the birds sing, for this generally cheered him, but now it was of no avail.