lf a good turn too by means of
her supernatural power. As it happened, despite her possession of all
the virtues, she had trouble with her subjects, who declared themselves
weary of petticoat government and urged her to look round for a husband.
She did, calling to aid her uncanny gift. The discussion with her
subjects probably took place in the open, high up on Vy[vs]ehrad.
Libu[vs]a, with that far-away gaze proper to all soothsaying, pointed
out over the distant hills, saying, "Behind those hills is a small river
called Belna, and on its bank a farm named Stadic. Near that farm is a
field, and in that field your future ruler is ploughing with two spotted
oxen. His name is P[vr]emysl, and his descendants will rule over you for
ever. Take my horse and follow it; you will be led to the place."

The lady was not quite correct about P[vr]emysl and his
descendants--they have ceased to rule over the Czechs, and are now
replaced by a sovereign people; but she certainly was right in her
description of her future husband and his surroundings. The search
party, following Libu[vs]a's horse, found P[vr]emysl busy at his plough,
roped him in and brought him to their Princess. Legend again asserts
that P[vr]emysl made a first-class husband and ruler (he probably did
exactly as his wife told him) and his descendants reigned with varying
fortunes, until the first years of the fourteenth century--a very good
innings for the lineage of P[vr]emysl, the sturdy farmer, and that
far-seeing lady Libu[vs]a, his wife. During those centuries the Czechs
had consolidated into an important kingdom; from a misty chaos of
heathen Slavonic tribes had grown a people brave and generous, with a
culture all its own, and above all with a surpassing gift of expressing
itself in music.

It must not be supposed that Libu[vs]a rested content with being wife to
P[vr]emysl, just keeping house, mending clothes and minding the babies.
She continued her activities as directress of her people's fortunes, and
is made responsible, among other matters, for choosing the site of the
Hrad[vs]any, the Castle of Prague, and this is what the chronicler has
to say about it.

One day as Libu[vs]a looked out from her fastness over the river towards
the wooded heights to northward, she was moved by the gift of prophecy
to which she was addicted when deeply stirred.

Her own abode, built by her father, hung upon that rocky crag called
Vy[vs]ehrad, and was probably by no mean