oment seems a week.
_Is_ there no hope? Oh, Hero dear,
If thou couldst only speak!
But no! Within this tower room
We're captive, and despair
Must settle on us. 'Tis the doom
Of all dragged up yon winding stair.

[_Drops her head and weeps. Enter Godmother, who waves wand
and throwing back curtain, displays a spinning-wheel._

_Godmother._ Rise, Princess Winsome,
Dry your weeping eyes.
The way of escape
Within your own hand lies.

Waste no time in sorrow,
Spin and sing instead.
Spin for thy brother's sake,
A skein of golden thread.

Question not the future,
Mourn not the past,
But keep thy wheel a-turning,
Spinning well and fast.

All the world helps gladly
Those who help themselves,
And the thread thou spinnest,
Shall be woven by elves.

All good things shall speed thee!
Thy knight, the Faithful Feal,
Is to thy rescue riding.
Up! To thy spinning-wheel! [_Disappears behind curtain._

_Princess._ All good things shall speed me?
Sir Knight, the Faithful Feal,
Is to my rescue riding? [_In joyful surprise._
Turn, turn, my spinning-wheel!
(_She sings._)

[Spinning Wheel Song.

My godmother bids me spin, that my heart may not be sad.
Spin and sing for my brother's sake, and the spinning makes me glad.
Spin, sing with humming whir, the wheel goes round and round.
For my brother's sake, the charm I'll break, Prince Hero shall be found.
Spin, sing, the golden thread,
Gleams in the sun's bright ray,
The humming wheel my grief can heal,
For love will find a way.]

[_Pauses with uplifted hand._

What's that at my casement tapping?
Some messenger, maybe.
Pause, good wheel, in thy turning,
While I look out and see.

[_Opens casement and leans out, as if welcoming a carrier dove,
which may be concealed in basket outside window._

Little white dove, from my faithful knight,
Dost thou bring a message to me?
Little white dove with the white, white breast,
What may that message be?

[_Finds note, tied to wing._

Here is his letter. Ah, well-a-day!
I'll open it now, and read.
Little carrier dove, with fluttering heart,
I'm a happy maiden, indeed.
(_She reads._) "O Princess fair, in the Ogre's tower,
In the far-off Summer-land
I seek the South Wind's silver flute,
To summon a fairy band.
Now send me a token by the dove
That thou hast read my note.
Send me the little heart of gold
From the chain about thy throat.
And I shall bind it upon my shield,
My talisman t