A year thereafter was it that I heard
Of Rudolf's passion for Kurt's Ilsabe,
Then their betrothal. And it was from this,—
For, ah, that Ilsabe! that Ilsabe!—
Good Mary Mother! how she haunts me yet!
She, that true touchstone which philosophers feign
Contacts and golds all base; a woman who
Could touch all evil into good in man.—
Surmised I of the excellency which
Refinement of her gentle company,