cross road in the forest. "It were best we part company for the
present; ye understand what I said to you--ye are to hide yourselves at
Gilleleie, and watch every night, until ye see the skiff with the black
pennant, then push off with Jeppe's boat, and set me on shore:
meanwhile watch narrowly all that goes on here, and who goes in and out
of the castle. What Niels Brock and the archbishop have promised, you
may make sure of. But then ye must not be self-willed; ye will never be
able to get him out by force, and if the king and Marsk Oluffsen come
hither to-day or to-morrow, ye might lightly get hanged and ruin every
thing."
"Leave that to us, sly Morten," said the man with the one eye. "Johan
Kyste well knows what he is about. I committed but one folly in my
life; 'twas on that Easter eve I deserted from the Marsk, and took the
palfrey from the pious clerk; I did but knock a little hole in his
skull, but it was large enough for his bit of a soul to slink out of:
one should let holy men go their way in peace; for this, I am now
forced to put up with one eye. I vowed, therefore, to our Lady and St.
Joseph, to become pious and God-fearing from that very hour, and never
more to lay my hand on other than laymen."
"A pious resolve," said Morten: "wert thou not such a bloodhound and
cut-throat, I could almost believe thy soul might be saved as yet, even
shouldst thou steal and rob in a small way at times."
"It bids fair to be so," answered the one-eyed. "I have a letter of
absolution from the archbishop, within my woollen jerkin, that will
stand me in good stead when all the world besides marches to hell.
Truly I served the learned Master Grand faithfully by night and day
these many years, therefore hath the pious archbishop given me freedom
from fasting, and absolution for sins for ten whole years: he hath not
spared his silver pieces either; and shall I now suffer them to shut up
such a man, and thereby rob so many honest fellows of a living? What
sayest thou, Ole Ark? Shall we suffer it any longer? hath Master Grand
deserved it of us?"
"Pshaw! Kyste; who says thou art to suffer it, and leave him in the
lurch?" interrupted Morten. "We all want to have him out; but we would
not be as fools, trying to burst open the doors with their own thick
skulls. Force will not help us here--do but as I bid thee, and keep thy
courage until we want it."
"Morten is right, Kyste," began the other Lollander, with a hideous
grin, which displayed his projecting teeth. "Thou art a mad bull, and
art ever ready to push with thy horns. Why haste so desperately to get
him out? he was a good and generous man of God while he was in power,
'tis true, but since he hath lain in Sjoeborg we have heard no great
things of him, and have not been blessed with the sight of a stiver
from his hand."
"Dull cod-fish!" replied Johan Kyste, hastily; "believest thou not what
honest Morten hath vowed and promised us in the bishop's name? As soon
as we get him out we are his steersmen at Bornholm, and get leave to
catch what we can throughout the king's dominions."
"Hold, comrade," said Morten, correcting him. "It is only so long as
the breach lasts between the king and the archbishop, that he gives you
leave to drive that trade: it is only in the service of the church, and
the pious bishop, that it may be lawful and Christian for a time;
afterwards ye must content yourselves with what he gives you of his
own, and lead quiet lives: but ere this day twelvemonth, you may
feather your nests finely. Now begone, and neglect not what ye have
taken upon ye, for the sake of other desperate pranks! I will not have
you longer with me: if any one caught me in such fair company, they
might take a fancy to hang me up by the side of you, for honest
companionship's sake."
"Ho! ho! wouldst _thou_ play the lordling, Morten?" said the one-eyed;
"what higher honour couldst _thou_ look for, thou turnspit!--But hark!
what was that? are there hunters in the wood so early?"
The sound of hunting-horns, the tramp of horses, and the baying of
hounds, was heard in the neighbourhood: the three wanderers hastened
forward a few paces, but soon suddenly sprang aside in different
directions.
"S'death! the king and all his courtiers!" exclaimed Morten, sheltering
himself behind a large beech tree by the road side, while both his
suspicious-looking comrades hid themselves among the thick brushwood.
A numerous hunting train drew near; at the head rode the young king,
between the Drost and the Marsk: it was a noble sight to see the young
chivalrous King Eric on horseback. He rode a tall milk-white horse,
which seemed proud of its burden, and often fell into the artificial
dancing-pace to which it was used in the tilt and tournay. Its bridle
and saddle accoutrements glittered with gold and precious stones: the
silken rein with which the king managed his steed was the only
compulsory means to which it would submit; the slightest touch of the
golden rowel in the king's spur caused it to rear almost upright, and
for any other than the king it seemed rash and dangerous to bestride
the proud animal. The king himself was a noble-looking youth, with a
manly and determined, almost a stern, cast of countenance; but his long
fair locks imparted a softness to this expression, which, in Eric's
milder moods, called to mind the portraits of the Saviour's best
beloved Apostle, leaning his head on his Master's breast. The young
king had a dignified and chivalrous deportment, the effect of which was
heightened by the almost dazzling splendour of his attire, which
appeared indeed unsuited to a hunting party. The tall white plume in
his hat sparkled with small silver stars; and the green hunting dress,
bordered with ermine, was so richly broidered with silken lions, and
golden hearts, that it resembled a shining suit of armour.
The splendour in which the young king appeared to delight was also
conspicuous in his train. Drost Aage, who rode at the king's right
hand, was of the same age with King Eric, and had not yet attained his
twenty-second year. He had been the king's playmate and confidant from
childhood upwards, and now possessed his entire confidence and favour.
There was a mild but almost melancholy seriousness in the expression of
Drost Aage's countenance, which gave him the appearance of being older
than the king. He had thrown his dark blue mantle over the back of his
smoking palfrey, by way of covering; and his rich silken dress was
besprinkled with the foam of the king's restless and chafing steed,
upon which he appeared to keep a watchful eye.
Marsk Niels Oluffsen, who rode at the king's left hand, was a tall
strong-built man, of about thirty years and upwards, with a sharp,
rough, warrior-like countenance, and stiff deportment. Next to Drost
Aage, he was the king's most indispensable counsellor, and was an
exceedingly brave and doughty knight; but there was a tinge of
haughtiness and severity in his looks and manner which frequently
aroused the feelings of independence, and wounded the self-love, of his
inferiors. Even the king and Drost Aage, who were fully his equals in
knightly prowess, and far surpassed him in tact and talent, often felt
unpleasantly repulsed by his rough and blunt bearing, of which he was
himself so unconscious that nothing astonished him more than whenever
his uncouth roughness and self-confidence drove friends as well as
enemies from him.
Among others of the king's train were two celebrated German
minstrels--Master Rumelant, from Swabia, and Master Poppe the Strong,
who, in their national dress of German minstrels, attracted much
attention. Master Rumelant's stature was insignificant, but he had a
lively and enthusiastic expression of countenance; he was a lover of
argument, into which he was ever ready to enter with warmth and
vehemence, especially on theological subjects, on which he entertained
his own very peculiar opinions. His countryman, Poppe the Strong, well
deserved his cognomen: he was a gigantic figure, with long coal-black
hair and beard. His appearance often terrified old women and children,
by whom he was even sometimes taken for a wizard. He spoke in a
tone of emphatic decision, which would have better beseemed a
commander-in-chief. He rode a lean grey horse, and always wore a black
feather in his hat, in token of a sorrow he desired should be noticed
and respected by others. These two strangers had been for some time the
honoured guests of the young Danish monarch, who himself possessed a
knowledge of the arts, and showed special favour to talented artists
and men of learning. The king was also attended on this excursion by
the famous Danish philosopher, Petrus de Dacia, who was accounted the
greatest astronomer and arithmetician of his time, and was as renowned
for his theological learning as for his eloquence and profound
knowledge of Greek and Latin philology. Clad in his black canon's
dress, he rode a quiet palfrey, between the two German minstrels; and
always acted as mediator when, in the heat of argument, they became
vehement, and seemed disposed to exchange hard words. He was still in
the prime of life: on his journey through Germany he had become
acquainted, at Cologne, with Christine Stambel, the nun, so renowned
for her sanctity; and the enthusiasm with which he always spoke of this
lady would have subjected him to the suspicion of a secret passion, had
he not in his writings, as well as in his conversation, lauded with
still greater enthusiasm the blessed Virgin Mary, as preeminent in
beauty and sanctity, and exalted her to supreme rank among the saints
in the calendar. He had proved, with irresistible eloquence, that the
gracious confidence the Lord showed to St. Peter, in intrusting him
with the care of his flock, was even vouchsafed in a far higher degree
to St. John, the beloved apostle, who, as the Lord's best-loved
disciple, was appointed the protector and guardian of the blessed
Virgin.
His vehement theological controversy on this point with the learned and
famous Aldobrandino Papparonus Venensis, of the Dominican order, was in
a great measure the foundation of the esteem in which he was held by
the learned. It was only when the conversation turned on this his
favourite theme that his equanimity was ever disturbed; excepting when
this occurred, his discourse was calm, clear, and collected. The latent
energy which lay in his full and ardent eye, with its expression of
somewhat visionary enthusiasm, was calculated to inspire kindly
attention and confidence, and (what was a phenomenon among the learned
of his time) he was altogether free from pedantry and pride.
The king and his train now approached the cross road and the tree
behind which Morten had concealed himself: from this spot opened the
finest view on Esrom lake. "Halt!" said the king, springing from his
horse: "this is a lovely spot; we will tarry here and take our repast.
They will surely come this way from Elsinore."
"No doubt they will, my liege," answered Marsk Oluffsen, while he and
the Drost dismounted at the same time from their horses, and gave them
into the charge of the king's groom. "Here lies the high road to Esrom
and Sjoeborg. But, if I know the margrave right, he will not ride
through Elsinore ere all the pretty maidens are awake and can admire
his fair presence and horsemanship. As yet, his head is full of nought
but love adventures and such nonsense."
"Call you love 'nonsense,' my brave Marsk?" interrupted the king. "Do
you forget I am a bridegroom? and I trust not one of the coldest."
"Bridegroom, my liege?" answered the Marsk: "in Danish we call no man a
bridegroom until his marriage day, and much must be done ere that day
comes."
"Much?" rejoined the king, and his joyous animated countenance became
suddenly stern and grave--"well! much may be done in a short time, but
if they make the time too long, the day I long for may come when I
will."
"The Lord and our blessed Lady forbid!" said Drost Aage, in an under
tone, casting a glance at the king, full of anxious and heartfelt
sympathy.
"Let the horns play, Aage," said the king, as if desirous to prevent
more exclamations of this kind, which seemed to displease him. "The day
will be fine: we will begin it joyously."
At a signal from the Drost, the musicians, who followed the hunting
train, struck up the air of the well-known ancient ballad of "Axel
Thordson and Fair Valborg,"[8] which they knew was a favourite with the
king.
"Well, this is sweet music if it be not lively," said Eric: "where are
Rumelant and Poppe? 'tis pity they cannot sing Danish; their skilful
lays are but ill-suited to these tones."
"They are disputing again on spiritual matters," said the Marsk. "They
are better fitted for a council of clerks than a hunting party."
"Let us listen," said the king: "I dare wager Master Poppe is in the
right; but Master Rumelant nevertheless will be victor in the
controversy."
While the music continued, and the attendants converted a low pile of
wood into a table for the repast, the king's attention was attracted by
the dispute of the two eager minstrels: each stood with the bridle of
his horse in his hand, and spoke in a loud tone, while the grave Master
Petrus sat calm and attentive on his palfrey, gazing on the lake.
"I will defend my opinion before the whole body of clerks, and all true
believers in Christendom," said the vehement little Rumelant, striking
his saddle with the handle of his whip as he spoke: "our sinfulness
is assuredly better security for our salvation than all our paltry
virtue--that is as true as that our blessed Lady's prayers avail in
heaven, and she shows us no _favour_ when she obtains grace for us; she
shows us love and _gratitude_, which she is downright owing us for our
sin's sake, for it is not the world's virtue, but its sin alone, she
hath to thank for all her honour and glory."
"What are you driving at, my good Master Rumelant?" shouted the
gigantic Master Poppe. "How is the holy Virgin honoured by our being a
set of sinful scoundrels? that is no honour to us, or any one else."
"Not so, my self-sufficient sir!" shouted his opponent; "truly the case
is clearer than the sun: it is assuredly not of our perfection we
should boast, but, on the contrary, of our weakness. Would our dear
blessed Lady ever have become that she became, had not Adam and Eve
sinned, and all of us sinned too in them?"
"No, assuredly not, my dear friend: but how the devil----"
"Ergo, she hath man's sin to thank for her honour and glory! and ergo,
she would be most ungrateful were she not to protect sinners, and bring
us all likewise to honour and glory for our sin's sake."
"You drive me mad. Master Rumelant," shouted Master Poppe, stamping in
wrath; "I know not what to answer you, but you are wrong, by my soul!
as I will, like an honest German, show you with my good sword if you
desire it. What if I should now commit the sin of slaying you on the
spot, would the blessed Virgin bring me to honour and glory because _of
that_? or would it be so small a sin that it could not be imputed to me
as a great merit?"
"Worthy sirs," interrupted Master Petrus, gravely, "talk not of
spiritual things with sophistry, or in an angry spirit; least of all of
our blessed Lady, who is truth and heavenly calm itself. You exchange
spiritual for temporal weapons, Master Poppe; and you darken the
fountain of light, Master Rumelant, when you would make grace to
proceed from sin on earth, instead of from incomprehensible love and
mercy in God's kingdom."
"It seems to me it is of sin and grace those learned disputants are
talking," said the king, seating himself by the side of Drost Aage on
the trunk of a tree at a little distance. "Well, that is a never-ending
chapter, and truly one I ought to reflect on when I wend to Sjoeborg."
"Most certainly, my liege," answered Aage, looking with glad sympathy
on the king's noble countenance. "When we think on the great mercy we
all need, we should wish rather to be able to forgive our enemies than
to execute the most lawful sentence upon them."
"_Him_ thou meanest will I not forgive throughout all eternity!" burst
forth the king impetuously. "He sat chief in council among my father's
murderers, he ought to sit lowest among criminals in my kingdom. If the
pope will not condemn him, _I_ will. His blood I ask not, but outlawed
and dishonoured shall he remain all the days of his life."
"The pope, however, hath alone the right to pass sentence on him, my
liege," observed Aage. "So long as he remains captive here he cannot
defend his cause before his lawful tribunal, therefore it seems to me
but reasonable----"
"No, Aage!" interrupted the king, "neither just nor reasonable would it
be to let loose the captive murderer, that he may perjure himself, to
go forth free and honoured among his equals; but it were _wise_ perhaps
for my own peace and happiness."
"And perhaps for state and kingdom also," replied Aage. "This much is
certain, my liege: so long as that dangerous man is detained captive at
Sjoeborg, neither Drost Hessel nor Counsellor Jon can obtain the
dispensation for your marriage; and if I understood the wily Isarnus
aright, he is already privately empowered by the pope to enforce the
unhappy constitution of Veile against both you and the kingdom."
"And were it so," said the king, rising, "think'st thou I and the
kingdom would be really harmed by it? Would Denmark's bishops and
priests dare to excommunicate their king, and all their countrymen?
Hast thou not thyself, because of thy love to me, been for two years
already under the ban of the archbishop? And art thou not well and
sound notwithstanding? Hath any priest in Denmark dared to shut the
church door against thee when thou camest by my side, or to deny thee
the holy sacrament in my presence?"
"My sentence is not yet confirmed by the holy father," said Aage; "and
yet, my liege! I shudder, notwithstanding, to think of it--many of my
noble countrymen regard me with looks which sadden and well nigh dismay
me. The thunderbolts of the church are dreadful even in the hand of the
chained criminal---they would have crushed me to the earth, did I not
even yet hope that the ban, which a regicide hath proclaimed against
me, is not accounted of by the merciful Lord in heaven. The holy father
also will surely be moved by the righteousness of my cause, and by your
intercession in my behalf, to recall it."
"He shall, he must do so," answered the king with warmth, "or I will
teach thee to defy the might of injustice--perhaps also, my faithful
Aage, I and all Denmark may have to share thy fate! but, with the help
of the Lord and our blessed Lady, we will not therefore be cast down,
or stoop to humiliation. I stake my life and crown upon it!"
"For heaven's sake, my liege!" exclaimed Aage, in alarm; but what he
was about to utter was suddenly cut short by a significant look from
the king, who, at that moment, had caught a glimpse of a round ruddy
face, peering forth with a look of rapt attention from behind the tree
beside which they were standing. "Who is that?" asked the king. "It is
none of our huntsmen--art thou playing the spy, countryman?"
"A stranger!" exclaimed Aage; "come hither; who art thou?"
"Would ye aught with me, good sirs?" said Morten, the cook, stepping
forward. "I thought ye spoke to me. I am deaf, ye must know; if ye have
any commands, ye must shout at the top of your lungs."
"Who art thou?" asked Aage, raising his voice, while he gazed on him
with a searching look. "What wouldst thou here?"
"_Fear_?" said the cook, assuming a simple look. "I will not deny I was
somewhat afraid of your horses, and cared not to meet them on a fasting
stomach."
"A poor crazy fellow," said the king, "let him go his way in peace,
Aage; had he even heard what we spoke of, what would it signify?"
"Yes, by my troth, horses do signify something!" said Morten, looking
at Eric with evident interest. "The white horse signifies victory and
speedy judgment on the Lord's enemies--says Father Gregory."
"So much the better!" said the king, gaily, giving him a couple of gold
pieces. "Go thy way in peace, I would fain hope thou hast spoken truth
in thy simplicity. The white horse is mine."
"But the dark red signifies rebellion and the yellow pestilence,"
continued Morten, seemingly touched, as he received the king's gift,
and kissed his hand. "Mark, it was therefore I got frighted, when I saw
ye between those two beasts. I am otherwise a poor sinner, at your
service. I am going a pilgrimage for my own and other folks' sins. I
will now pray for a blessing on you, noble sir!"--so saying, he strode
hastily across the road, and disappeared in the wood.
"How would he interpret the red and the yellow horse?" said the king,
gravely. "Those pious men of the cloister fill our country and people
full of superstition."
"The fellow perhaps was neither deaf nor half-witted," answered Aage;
"to you he naturally said fair words, in order to escape. Our stern
Marsk is not liked by vagrants; the bay horse he rides to-day is
one he lately got in exchange from your brother Junker Christopher. My
cream-coloured horse is well known, and since I fell under the church's
ban the people look on me as the emblem of pestilence and misfortune by
your side."
These serious comments on the cook's words were now interrupted by the
sudden baying of the hounds, which dashed forward in couples towards a
thick bush of white thorn, in full cry.
"Game! game!" shouted the huntsman; but, instead of the supposed deer,
the two concealed wanderers sprang out of the bush: they had cast aside
their peasants' mantles and their bundles, in order the more easily to
save themselves by flight in their light cuirasses, but by so doing
they had betrayed themselves, and awakened suspicion. By order of the
Marsk they were instantly seized, and brought before the party of
hunters.
"What means this?" called the king in surprise: "we are not come hither
to hunt men."
"A couple of deserters from your Lolland horsemen, my liege," answered
Marsk Oluffsen. "I know them; we have long been on the look-out for
them; it is they whom the Count of Lolland hath sought after as robbers
and murderers."
"Then send them to Flynderborg[9] to await their doom!" commanded the
king. "What would they here! they shall be strictly brought to
account."
The captured deserters were instantly led off to be bound and conducted
to the fortress. They had until now stood still and downcast, like
convicted criminals; but, on finding they were to be bound, they
suddenly started forward and defended themselves with all the
desperation of despair. They wounded three of the king's huntsmen with
their daggers, and, amid the confusion and tumult occasioned by their
unexpected onset, contrived to tear themselves loose, and instantly
plunged into the lake. Some hunters pursued them on horseback, and a
couple of hounds, trained to hunt the wild-duck, were let loose after
them; but the fugitives dived and swam with such skill and vigour that
none could see them until they landed on the opposite shore of the
lake, where they quickly disappeared in the brushwood.
The king and his train had gone down to the water's edge to look at
this singular sight. Some hunters were ordered to ride round the lake,
in order if possible to overtake the fugitives. Drost Aage would also
have despatched some one after the pretended deaf man, whom he now
believed to be in league with the deserters.
"No!" said the king, "he shall not be pursued. I use not to put gold
into a man's hand one hour, and fasten iron round it the next."