The Fratricide

Between two mountains sank the sun— Between two maids the enamour’d one. He gave his kiss to one alone; The other maid grew jealous then: “Most faithless thou of faithless men!” She said—and he replied—“Fair maid! I fain would kiss thy cheeks of red, But thou hast got a bickering brother, Who loves to quarrel with another, And I no quarrel seek, my love!”

She hied her to the darksome grove— Silent—she turn’d o’er many a rock, And look’d ’neath many a broken stock; Probed weeds and briars, till she found A poisonous serpent on the ground. She smote it with her golden ring, Tore from its mouth the venomy fang; Its poisonous juice her hands did wring Into a wine cup—and she sprang On swiftest feet to Raduli— Her own—her only brother he— Her hands the fatal cup supplied— He drank the poison—and he died.

Then sped she to the youth—“A kiss— At least one kiss of love for this— For this—for thee—I dress’d the cup With poison—and he drank it up— The brother that thou lov’st not—he I poison’d—for a kiss from thee”—

“Away! away! thou murd’rous maid! Avaunt! avaunt!”—the lover said: “What fame—what courage could confide In thee—a heartless fratricide!”