How the Lady Hildiridur spoke kindly with the Enchantress
Gerda.
“Now,” said Hildiridur, as the knights spurred their horses, “can you
not remember my warning admonition?--Death and separation are barriers
already thrown in your way, yet you ride onwards with the same wild
resolution and impatience as before.”--Hereupon the knights checked
their horses, and for a space were lost in silent reflection, till Sir
Otto, blushing deeply, began,--“Mother, dearest mother,--if this lady
that we have all seen to-day were indeed Bertha!--Surely I cannot have
been deceived in that likeness,--only the strange damsel was in dress
and demeanour so grand and so solemn!”--“Can’st thou believe then,”
answered Hildiridur, “that my heart is not yet filled with ardent
love for my dear adopted daughter?--Who can tell, however, if she, who
has appeared here as a princess among us, be really Bertha?--Or, if it
were so, whether, when raised thus to pomp and grandeur, she is yet
willing to acknowledge thee as her cousin?”--“Her companion then is a
sorcerer or a base seducer,” said Otto, with melancholy and repressed
rage. “I shall in due time speak with him after such manner, that he
shall find as little reason even as I have, to rejoice over what he
has done.”--Hildiridur looked mournfully at her son, and said,--“Who
has conferred on thee the right of judging thus the conduct of
Bertha?--and wherefore should’st thou threaten so sternly that noble
warrior whom the poor forsaken damsel has, in her distress, chosen for
a protector?--Besides, young knight of Trautwangen, thou art now on
thy journey homewards, to take under thy care and console thy father’s
vassals, who are yet mourning the death of their beloved master. Till
this purpose be fulfilled, thou can’st not undertake any new adventure.”
A blush of shame and self-reproach followed that of anger on Sir Otto’s
features;--he bowed respectfully, and said,--“Let all be decided by
your better judgment, dearest mother;--I resign myself obediently to
your will. In truth it has become only too clear and certain, that if
it were Bertha herself who was here present among us, and if she were
willing to acknowledge our old friendship and affection, never would
the band of horsemen have passed us by without greeting or salutation.
Let it be so!--I bear the guilt and blame of my own folly, and
perchance am no longer worthy to lift up mine eyes to her, who seems
indeed like a messenger from Heaven!”
Hereupon Hildiridur tapped him kindly on the shoulder, and
said,--“Alas! how truly may the heart of a young hero be compared
to the stormy sea, with its waves now mounting up to the starry
heaven, and again sinking into the dark and deep abyss of sadness and
grief!--Dearest son, thou should’st not thus lay aside all that pride
which belongs to thy rank and achievements; moreover, thou should’st
remember, that on a form like thine, the noblest of high-born damsels
might indeed look with pleasure.”
During these discourses, as they rode through a dense thicket of
elder-trees, lo! they could not help watching a strange light that
shone amid the green branches, and which they had at first thought to
be an effect of the evening sky; but the light kept pace with them
wherever they went, and at last an opening in the woods revealed the
form of the enchantress Gerda, who, with long dishevelled hair, now
appeared in her wonted beauty, and in female attire. She now walked
hastily along a foot-path of the forest, which ere long joined with
the high-road; and Sir Archimbald rode forward to meet her, calling
aloud,--“Away! away with thee, thou temptress, or if thou wilt remain
with our party, kneel now forthwith, and pray before the holy cross.
This admonition I now give to thee in kindness of heart, and for the
last time!”--Gerda stood motionless, and, parting the long locks that,
in her swift march, had fallen over her forehead, she fixed her large
dark eyes on Sir Archimbald, and answered, in the tone of a child that
is half-angry, half inclined to weep,--“Surely I may be allowed to
walk onwards, wherever I can find a retired foot-path? By what right
can’st thou interrupt my journey, since even the high-roads are as
free to Gerda as they are to thee and thy chosen friends? If, however,
thy hatred against me is so great, that thou can’st not suffer me even
to live, then, in God’s name, inflict at once the blow that consigns
me to death. For, this I tell thee without disguise, so long as I
continue to live, I shall not fail to appear thus, now and then, in thy
presence.”--With these words she drew her long glossy ringlets again
over her features, and began to weep bitterly.
“Heaven knows,” said the Count von Waldeck, with a deep sigh, “what
will prove the end of all this!” He turned his horse round with a
gesture of vehement impatience, and drew down his vizor with a sounding
crash.
Meanwhile Hildiridur gently rode up on her palfrey towards the weeping
damsel, and stretching out her hand, once more parted the golden locks
from her forehead. At her gentle touch, the looks of the beautiful
enchantress cleared up, even like a bed of flowers when the sun
surprises them bathed in morning dew. “Weep not,” said the Druda, “weep
not thus vehemently, dearest daughter; for there are other paths by
which thou may’st arrive at the knowledge of the true God, besides that
which was pointed out to thee by the stern Zelotes. It is not indeed
required, that thou should’st pass through the sepulchral aisles by
that gloomy monastery, over the wreck of all thy worldly joys. Behold,
I am she who, on the Swedish frontiers, opposed thy power so suddenly
in the name of our blessed Redeemer, and rendered vain all thy spells
and enchantments. Rememberest thou, how, in thy concealed cavern of the
mountains, thou so long contended’st against the veiled lady of the
watch-tower?” The weeping damsel looked up confusedly, and yet with
a gleam of hope stealing over her beautiful features. “Know then,”
continued Hildiridur, “that though my faith as a Christian be sincere
and deeply implanted in my heart, yet methinks a path to salvation
and peace might be found for thee, far different from that of which
the stern warrior, Zelotes, has spoken. Wilt thou ride with us, then,
and submit to the instructions of Hildiridur?” “Oh Heaven!” cried the
enchantress, “how gladly would I obey thee; but the knight there in
the bright silver armour will not suffer me to be in his presence.”
On the contrary, however, the Count von Waldeck had hastened to find
out among the horses led by the squires a handsome palfrey, which he
brought to the now glad and smiling damsel; and begged for permission
to lift her into the saddle. This being done, he threw back his vizor,
then turned to the Lady Hildiridur; and respectfully kissing her
hand, “Thus indeed,” said he, “thou hast once more appeared like a
peace-angel sent from heaven to console and reconcile poor mortals.”
“Alas,” sighed Hildiridur, “without the help of another angel, who
is indeed pure and exalted, our happiness will have but an uncertain
foundation.”
At these words Otto thought once more of Bertha; for he believed that
it was of her that his mother had spoken. Whenever they came to a
town or village, therefore, he inquired whether any one had seen the
procession of the grand priest, John, with his Moorish warriors. For
some time he indeed obtained always the answers that he most wished
to hear; but at length he discovered that the lady, with her warlike
protector, had turned off from the road leading towards the fortress
of Trautwangen, and had gone on a pilgrimage to the shrine of a famed
saint, which lay at a far distance. After this news, he rode on his way
more thoughtful and melancholy than ever.