The Old Blake, The Emperor Frederick, in the old castle. He stays enchanted, he has never died, he is still living in it; he hid into the castle, to sit and sleep. He has taken with him, the glory of The Empire and will come back one day, with the glory when it's time. His chair is made of ivory, on it sits The Emperor. The table is made of marble, on which he rests his head. His fur is not made of flax, it is made of embers! It has grown wild and gray. His chin rests on his fist, he nods like in a dream. His eyes half opened, beckoned and looking across the long room "Here me, junge." The Emperor beckons, he speaks in his sleep "Go to in front of the castle, young one, and see if the ravens are flying around the mountain! And if the old ravens are up there shrieking as always, then I must sleep even longer, for another millennium."