Unto the royal ear he bent—
He bent, and whispered low;
Then did the king his sceptre raise,
And struck a sounding blow—
A blow upon the table thrice,
That all the field might hear:
It hushed the crowd to silence, while,
With voice both loud and clear,
Thus spake the king: “So bring thou me
The harp of Merlin old,
Which by four chains hangs by his bed—
Four chains of finest gold:
If Merlin’s harp thou bring to me,
My child, perchance, shall marry thee.”
III.
“Good grandmother, I pray give heed,
And counsel me in this my need:
My heart is broken!” “Oh, indeed!
Hadst thou not set at naught my rede,
Thy hap had met with better speed.
Poor grandson mine! Yet weep not so:
The harp shall be unbound, I trow.
A golden hammer here behold,
No sound rings from its stroke of gold.”
IV.