A long farewell we give thee,
O Prague, for we must leave thee,
_Et habeat bonam pacem,
Qui sedet post fornacem_!
"When through the towns we're going
At night, the windows shine,
Behind their curtains showing
Full many a damsel fine.
We play at many a gate-way,
And when our throats are dry
We call mine host, and straightway
He treats us generously;
And o'er a goblet foaming
We rest awhile from roaming.
_Venit ex sua domo--
Beatus ille homo_!
"When roaming through the forest
Cold Boreas whistles shrill,
'Tis then our need is sorest;
Wet through on plain and hill,
Our cloaks the winds are tearing,
Our shoes are worn and old,
Still playing, onward faring,
In spite of rain and cold.
_Beatus ille homo
Qui sedet in sua domo
Et sedet post fornacem,
Et habeat bonam pacem!"_
I, the captain, and the girl, although we did not understand Latin,
joined gaily in the last lines of each verse; but I was the gayest of
all, for I had caught a glimpse in the distance of my toll-house, and
soon afterward the castle shone among the trees in the light of the
setting sun.
CHAPTER X
The boat touched the shore, and we all left it as quickly as possible,
and scattered about in the meadows, like birds suddenly set free from
the cage. The reverend gentleman took a hasty leave of us, and strode
off toward the castle.
Pages:
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402