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THE ROMANCE OF A PRINCESS A COMEDY AND OTHER POEMS
Author of "The Flag and Other Poems" "The Armistice and Other Poems" "The Seekers, and Indian Mystery Play" "The Birth of Montreal, a Chronicle Play, and Other Poems"
This play is the outcome of many happy walks in the forests that border Charlemagne's ancient capital. The writer and her husband would often pause to view some beauty-spot; at times she would read aloud the rare legends collected by Joseph Muller.
She has now tried to catch some of the interest and joy of those gone by summers to pass on to relatives and friends. If she has failed it is not the fault of the theme.
Let none throw doubt on Emma's reality. Who lives in myth, lives for all time.
Emma _A Daughter of Charles_ Etta _Her Waiting-woman_ Charles (Charlemagne) _King-Emperor_ Eginhardt _Secretary and Director of Public Works_ Albert _Count of the Palace_ Hildebold _Archbishop_ Ernst _A Charcoal-burner_ Guta _His Wife_ David _A Precocious Boy_ Audulf } Herbert } _Courtiers_ Courtiers, Wish-maidens, Elves.
Time: The beginning of the ninth century.
Place: Aquisgranum, the Capital of Frankland.
_Scene.—Emma's boudoir. A door on the left leads to the palace courtyard; another, centre back, opens into private apartments, which have no other entrance. The room is furnished befitting the dignity of a princess. Emma, in gala-attire, has just returned from a great function in honour of the Calif Haroun-al-Rashid's ambassadors. Etta helps remove her cloak. The princess then throws herself on a couch, while Etta stands before her admiringly._
_Emma._ A moment's rest to gather memories Of what this day has meant; those swarthy Eastern Ambassadors! the gifts their king has sent.
_Etta._ How beautiful you are! In Frankland, who Approaches you in mind or character? That's what the scholars say. The people though Dwell on your loveliness. What plaudits when You rode that bulky beast! the contrast! a Princess, Alive with happiness.
_Emma._ 'Twas wonderful To mount so high, an elephant for steed, To feel that heavy, ambling gait, to know Such strength for mischief could be chained to work Man's will. How kind of great Haroun to give The King, my Father, this unwieldy proof Of his affection; to teach such animals Are real, not fabled monsters, as some of us Have whispered! 'Twas tremulous that ride, up-perched Above the marvelling throng; to feel myself, A Frankish maid, upon that leathery Ungainliness. An elephant in Europe! Who'd have thought to see the day? But now Unbind my hair. [_In a low voice._] I think he will not come Tonight. [_A knocking is heard._] 'Tis he! but no, my Father's knock, So tender yet so masterful. Thou may'st Retire. I'll wait upon his royal pleasure, Will then disrobe myself.