How the Lady Bertha was received in the Druda’s castle.
Heerdegen and Bertha had now travelled for many days, and the nearer
they approached towards the shores of the North Sea, the damsel was the
more cheerful, and the youth more discontented. When Bertha questioned
him why he was thus vexed, he answered,--“It seems to me almost as if I
were now leading you into the cloister; for if that wonderful lady has
you once within her walls, Heaven knows whether she will ever allow you
to come again among mankind; nor indeed, so far as I can judge by your
own disposition, will you ever wish again to leave that silent castle,
with its flowers on the rampart, and its moonlight radiance!” “Well,
dear brother,” answered the damsel, “that would only be the fulfilment
of my own desires, which, doubtless, you would not prevent.” “It were
a loss to the world,” answered Heerdegen; “and I had gladly seen you
led to the altar.” “Nay,” said Bertha, “we shall doubtless find at the
pious lady’s castle all that is fitting for religious duties, a chapel,
a cross, and an altar.” “It was not thus,” said Heerdegen, “that I
wished to be understood;” then looked discontentedly at his horse’s
feet, while Bertha turned away, blushing, and gazing at the long grass
and flowers that grew around them.
After such discourse, she thought to render her brother more tranquil,
by praising the beauty of the land through which they now past, the
green grassy hills, winding streams, and verdant woods. To which
he answered,--“In the bright days of midsummer all this is indeed
pleasant and delightful; but let the winter once come on, with its
howling winds and deep snows, while the lonely habitations of the poor
inhabitants send up their smoke amid the pathless wilderness, more like
funeral piles than pleasant dwellings, then you would cease to praise
the country which you now so much admire.” “But at the castle of the
Lady Minnatrost there are neither snow-storms nor howling winds,” said
Bertha. Whereupon Heerdegen peevishly answered,--“Ay, ay, so it has
been said. I myself have never been there in the winter!” Then he rode
on in silence; and the more gloomy he appeared, the more earnestly did
Bertha long to be with her wonderful aunt, who might, by her magic
spells, restore the knight to serenity.
One day Sir Heerdegen seemed more than ever lost in deep reflection,
from which Bertha concluded that they were now near the end of their
journey. Her heart heaved and beat with her own visionary expectations,
while towards evening her brother, almost with terror in his aspect,
looked round for some house of entertainment for travellers; but
nothing was visible but some lonely moss-covered cottages. He sent out
both their attendants to explore in different directions; and as, after
having stood still for some time, he found that they did not return,
he ordered those who had charge of the packhorse to wait there while
he rode about with Bertha. But in the winding paths of the wooded
country they soon lost their way altogether, found no fitting house
to rest in for the night, nor could they even make their way back to
the spot where he had desired the servants to wait for him. The stars
were now shining bright in heaven, and Sir Heerdegen suddenly halted
as they came to the foot of a steep ascent. “Good Heavens!” cried he,
“if I mistake not, we are come earlier to our journey’s end than I had
expected or wished. How gladly, dearest Bertha, would I have still
had you with me till the morning! Look up towards the summit of the
hill, and try whether by star-light you can distinguish a fortress.”
At that moment the full moon, that was now rising, broke forth in
refulgence from the east, and immediately the windows of the castle
were illuminated in glittering radiance; crosses too were seen gleaming
on the towers and ramparts; soft music came floating from afar, through
the woods, gently waved by the night wind. Bertha stretched out her
arms towards the light, with looks of triumph and rejoicing, while her
brother struck his cuirass with his iron-gloved right hand, heaving a
sigh of doubt and apprehension.
Then, among the stems of some tall birch-trees, they saw approaching
them a female form, tall and white, even like the trees, and with a
green veil over her head and shoulders. Bertha thought this must be
the Lady Minnatrost; and when the veil was thrown back, and she beheld
the mild gleam of her tranquil eyes, in which shone the spirit of
innocence and peace, the damsel alighted from her palfrey, and sunk
down, kneeling on the grass before the Druda. Sir Heerdegen too forgot
all his doubts and discontent. He dismounted, bowed respectfully, and
wished to speak of Bertha’s visit, but the lady said,--“It is enough,
all is already known to me; therefore I came to meet the guests that
were to me so heartily welcome. This time you also, Sir Heerdegen,
shall go with us to the castle.” Thereupon she gave a hand to each,
placing herself between them to lead them up the mountain, chaunting
all the way a song of which the silvery tones alone, even without
words, were enough to inspire peace and happiness in the heart of
every listener. They arrived in no long time at the fortress, where
Sir Heerdegen kindly, and without expressing any low spirits or
displeasure, took leave of his sister. It seemed as if he had never,
during his whole life, known difficulties, or been roused to anger.
They conversed all three kindly and confidentially with each other,
appointing certain days on which he was to come to the castle, in order
to visit Bertha. Then he walked (courteously kissing his iron glove
and waving his helmet) down the mountain, while Bertha went with the
smiling Lady Minnatrost into the mansion.
The gate opened, and then closed immediately behind them; whereupon
Bertha perceived with surprise, that they had to cross a small lake
of the purest water, wherein the moon and stars were reflected in all
their loveliness. A bark came, self-impelled, floating towards them, in
which they took their places, and were gently ferried across. Bertha
perceived immediately, on the ramparts and towers, the waving and
fragrance of the tall white flowers of which her brother had spoken
with her when he lay on his sick-bed. Now she understood for the first
time the full force of his descriptions, when she was sailing on the
tranquil waters of that lake, with the odours of those white flowers
bathing her temples and floating around her. From the building within
came the sound of harps and cymbals, as if in friendly salutation; and
when the two voyagers had disembarked, and begun to walk through the
long vaulted halls, those pleasant sounds became always louder and
more articulate. Every room was illuminated, but with a mild pensive
light; for it was from the reflection of the full moon, by mirrors so
contrived, that her rays were multiplied and cast without shadow on
every object. At last, entering into a great hall with Gothic arches,
Bertha perceived whence had arisen that music with which her senses had
before been refreshed and delighted. This apartment was filled with
wonderful mechanism, such as no artisan could imitate. Golden rings,
self-moved, turned round their endless circles, and as they touched
each other, produced the most exquisite melody. These rings also set in
motion the cymbals, and awoke the harp-strings, which were stretched,
like a magical net-work, between the pillars. Bertha was now able to
imagine how that damsel must have been soothed into refreshing sleep,
as her brother had described; she too, having seated herself on a
soft couch, soon lost herself in pleasant dreams; from which, if at
times she half awoke, she beheld and heard those magic rings circling
around her, and the tranquil eyes, with their moonlike radiance, of the
watchful Druda.