How Sir Otto departed from his father’s castle.
The old and the young knight greeted each other with a grave and
melancholy demeanour. Sir Hugh then went to the high altar, lifted up
the armour, and began to assist his son in bracing it on. The youth
could hardly bring himself to receive service from hands so deeply
honoured; but he knew the rules of knighthood, and therefore said not a
word, whilst his father adjusted the cuirass, the corslet, the cuisses,
finally set the helmet on his head, and even knelt down in order to
buckle on his golden spurs. Both of them expressed wonder on finding
that the sword-scabbard, which the old man had brought with him, now
fitted exactly, so that the weapon could be drawn out and replaced
without trouble, though heretofore this had been impossible. “It seems
almost,” said Sir Hugh, “as if this old friend had seen service during
the night. There must be a notch more or less on the blade!” At these
words Otto thought with horror on his encounter with the skeleton; and
as they passed by the gigantic coat of mail by which it was covered,
he could not help turning a shy and involuntary glance on the figure.
Sir Hugh observed this, and said,--“Has _he_ then disturbed you in the
night? At this I should not wonder. Such at least would have been his
conduct when living.” Otto made no answer, but gazed wistfully on the
strange fashion of the armour, which in the morning light appeared more
than ever remarkable. His attention was especially attracted by two
vulture’s wings rising and protruding from the helmet, which, during
the night, he had mistaken for great horns. At present the figure was
indeed more frightful than it had been even in the night; and he
called to mind certain marvellous stories, which his father had long
ago told him, of a horrible man who wore vulture’s wings on his helmet.
But thereafter they came opposite to the pale, saintly, and benevolent
features of his mother, and how soon were all impressions of the
death’s-head, the black armour, and vulture’s wings forgotten! “Is then
my mother’s grave in this chapel?” said Otto, in a tone of anxious
inquiry. Sir Hugh looked mournfully, and shook his head in silence. “I
beg then,” said the youth, “that some one may direct me to the spot,
wherever it lies, that I may say my prayers there, as is fitting,
before I go forth into the world. Only through ignorance has that duty
been so long neglected.” “This is no proper hour to speak of graves,
nor of the dead,” answered Sir Hugh, taking his son’s arm, and leading
him rapidly from the chapel. Thereafter they came out upon the ramparts
of the castle, amid the fresh fragrant breezes, while beneath them
the landscape unfolded all its varied splendours; the noble Danube,
with its meadows, forests, and distant mountains, brightened by the
long slanting radiance and dazzling dewdrops of the morning. “Thou
should’st not allow the rein to such womanish fantasies, young Knight
of Trautwangen,” said the old man, giving his son a hearty shake; “it
will be time enough for tears, and longings after graves, monuments,
and such like, when thou art as old as I am now. But even then, such
thoughts must be concealed within thine own breast. Wait here for the
present, and enjoy the freshness of this May morning. When all is ready
for thy departure thou shalt be sent for.”
The old hero then strode away from the rampart down to the castle,
leaving the youth cheered and revived in spirit by the reprimand which
he had just received, while his sanguine hopes of the future always
gained more strength as the landscape grew brighter around him, and
the air was filled with the music of skylarks, and joyous carolling
of shepherds driving out their flocks on the meadows. While he was
thus boldly stepping up and down, rejoicing in the martial clang of
his weapons and silver armour, which to his ears harmonized so well
with the gladness that reigned around him, he happened during his
walk to strike on something concealed among the tall grass, which
also sounded, but with a sad and mournful tone, as if complaining of
unprovoked injury. Looking down, he perceived that it was Bertha’s
lute, whose mistress must indeed have been lost in deep reverie, else
she never would have left her beloved companion so carelessly among
the damp moss and unfriendly dews. So he took up the poor neglected
instrument, pulled off his iron glove, and seating himself in the
grass, prepared, as well as he could, to console his forsaken cousin
with a farewell melody. He began with praises of the spring and the
beautiful scenes that were around him; but, alas! he sang no words that
were fitted for Bertha’s ears. His fancy was soon kindled by dreams
of the knightly career that awaited him, and the favour that he would
gain by his exploits from the beautiful Gabrielle. Thus his melody was
indeed jocund, and sounded so powerfully, that Bertha was attracted by
the notes, and came unobserved to his side, with looks how changed from
those which she had worn the preceding day! Her eyes were indeed still
bright, but it was her tears only that glittered in the sun. “And this
is then in truth your farewell song?” said she. Otto remained for a
space silent and meditative, then answered,--“Dearest Bertha, that song
has indeed expressed more than I intended; more indeed than I was well
conscious of ere it was begun. Like the flowers, and the brightness
of the new year, my own newly-awakened hopes and prospects dawned on
my mind, and carried me quite away. For listen, dearest Bertha! We
cannot longer disguise it from each other, that whatever this music has
accidentally betrayed is but the truth. The strange lady, with her
beauty and distress, has got complete possession of my heart, which is
for the first time inspired with a chivalrous and knightly passion.
Take courage then and be merry! Ere long there will doubtless appear
some wandering knight-errant, who will arrive here as unexpectedly as
Gabrielle has done, and for whose sake you will soon forget the fond
foolish Otto.”
“Such a knight will never come hither,” said Bertha, mournfully; “and
as for the distress of that lady, perhaps I too--” Here she blushed
deeply, and was silent. “Nay,” said Otto vehemently, and starting
up, “if you indeed should ever be in distress, then would I think
of no other. My life and all my endeavours should be devoted to you
alone.” “I shall not, however, choose you for my champion, Knight
of Trautwangen,” said Bertha, proudly and coldly. “Believe me, if
our pagan foes, as we read in the old histories, had bound me to the
stake, with the devouring flames kindling around me, and you came up
on horseback, arrayed in your bright armour as you are now, to offer
your assistance, I would only say,--‘Thanks! I have no need of such a
defender!’ and would cry out, ‘Pile on more flaming brands;’ and then
I would extinguish them even with my tears; and yet methinks no! that
might not be, for they are already too scorching!” With these words,
weeping bitterly, she sank down upon the grass, and Otto, in the
conflict of his feelings, accidentally drew his hand across the harp,
so that one of the strings broke, with a long mournful intonation.
Bertha raised herself up at the sound. “Mark,” said she, “how you treat
all that belongs to me! Why have you first pulled off your iron gloves?
With them you might have sooner broke my unfortunate harp into pieces.
Give it to me, Sir Knight! This poor remembrance at least remains
mine.” So she took the instrument vehemently out of his hands, and
ran away. He called after her, but she only rocked the lute in her
arms, as if it had been a child that had received some injury, drawing
from it all the while mild and heart-moving tones, till, without once
looking round, she vanished from his sight behind the chapel.
The stern deep voice of the old knight was now heard from the court,
calling out repeatedly, “All is ready, all is ready! Sir Otto, come
hither and mount your horse!” The youth then hastened down from the
rampart, and found a number of cavalry squires in attendance; three
of whom were holding by golden reins a light-brown charger, which he
had often seen before, but had never dared to mount. On his appearance
among them, “Young knight,” said Sir Hugh, with a forced smile,
“parting and delay are both painful,--is it not so? Well, think then no
more of the matter, but mount directly, and try how this noble steed
will bear his new rider.” The young Sir Otto immediately sprang into
the saddle, and rode his horse up and down with such extraordinary
strength and agility, that all the by-standers expressed their
admiration, insisting that this animal, whose disposition had been
before wild and untameable, had at last found out and acknowledged his
proper master. The venerable old knight was delighted, and stretched
out his arms towards Sir Otto. “Dismount once more, dearest son,”
cried he, “that ere you finally depart I may embrace and bless you.”
Whereupon the youth threw himself from his horse with a great clang
and rattle of his armour, and rushed into his father’s arms. The horse
meanwhile snorted and plunged, till he had pulled the bridle from
the hands of the squires, then trotted after his young master, stood
quietly beside him, and even laid his head caressingly on his shoulder.
“Now, my son, depart in God’s name,” said Sir Hugh; “your attendants
are already mounted and in waiting.” “There is yet one request which
I had to prefer,” answered the youth, “and this perhaps my honoured
father will not refuse to grant. It may be the last which I shall
ever make here; for I must travel into far-distant lands, and have
many a hard battle to encounter.” “My son,” said Sir Hugh, “one must
avoid all words that sound like a foreboding of evil. Misfortune is
ready enough to seize hold of every mortal, and the obstacles which
often stand insurmountable betwixt us and our desires, form an easy
and convenient ladder for our adversary to mount into our chambers.
Therefore do not speak to me of last requests and so forth; but tell
me at once what are your wishes, and they shall be fulfilled.” “Sir
Knight,” answered Otto, “so far as I have yet heard or read of heroes
and their exploits, they have always on their first adventures rode out
alone. Such was the conduct of the great Seyfried, and of every one
else that is most renowned. You have spoken, however, of a train to
attend me; and I see a great number of armed horsemen in waiting; but
I entreat that you will not thus send me forth like a spoiled child,
who needs guidance and protection, but as a stout and wise champion,
who, by his own independent strength, can both defend himself and
afford assistance to others.” Hereupon Sir Hugh immediately ordered all
the horsemen to dismount; “for,” said he, “my son has in such manner
justified his request, that whatever my own wishes might be, it were a
sin if I refused it to him. And now, young knight,” added he, “do not
any longer delay your departure, for otherwise your old father’s heart
will at last be too much moved. One injunction, however, I must yet
offer you. Behave as courteously towards the Knight of Mountfaucon as
the circumstances of your vow will permit; for, in his detention of the
ring, he is not guilty of such injustice as you believe.”
Upon these words, Sir Otto flew, swift almost as a bird, into the
saddle, and rode directly out of the court, while his old father
returned, weeping bitterly, to his now lonely chambers. In his
affliction, however, he appeared so dignified and worthy of respect,
that no one of the household had courage then to meet his looks, or
even go into his presence.
Just as Otto von Trautwangen came along at a hard trot across the
meadow below the castle, Bertha and the old minstrel Walter were seated
on the rampart, and looked mournfully down on his progress; for Bertha
had confided all her sufferings and sorrow to the old man, who happened
at this time to have made one of his accustomed visits to the castle.
She was about to break out afresh into an agony of tears, when Master
Walter said,--“Nay, nay, let us sing a farewell address to the young
knight on his departure.” He then took his harp, and sung one stanza,
to which Bertha responded; but as the minstrel began again, she made
him a signal to be silent, for she could bear it no longer. Her voice
faltered, and she wrapt herself closely in her veil. Meanwhile the
soft notes of their music were borne down by the morning breezes to
Sir Otto, who spurred his horse, and drew down his visor as if resolved
to hear no more. It was the first time that he had ever worn a close
helmet; and as he looked through its bars on the vernal landscape,
his heart heaved within him, and was filled with new and strange
sensations. The whole world appeared new and mysterious; but the bright
roseate hues of the eastern sky prevailed in his mind, and over the
scenery. He shouted aloud, encouraged his noble horse, and, like a
new-fledged bird or butterfly of spring, pursued his way over fields,
woods, and meadows, forgetting all sorrow in his bright prospects of
the future.