The page and heart their way are making,
When winding sounds the lusty horn,
With hunters’ cries the stillness breaking.
“Then from the thicket bounds a stag,
Through his heart an arrow flying,
Checks his course, and strikes him dead,—
At the page’s feet he’s lying.
“And now the Ritter of Fayal,
Who first the gallant stag had wounded,
Gallops up with hunting train,