How Sir Folko de Montfaucon beheld, for the first time, the
fortress of Trautwangen.
Like the happy birds that return to their wonted nests in spring-tide,
Sir Folko, with Gabrielle and Blanchefleur, were now passing over the
Alps on their way back to Germany. After many wanderings through the
world, over lakes and seas, mountains and valleys, they had found
themselves irresistibly attracted by our native land; for we may truly
say, that whatever strangers have once come thither, look on our
vineyards and smiling landscapes as a garden of joy, and the chosen
abode of true and faithful hearts. Moreover, almost all European
nations must look on Germany as their father-land. Sir Folko and
Gabrielle might indeed look with regret on this end of their journey,
for a melancholy separation then awaited them, inasmuch as Sir Folko
had never forgotten the rights of his friend, Otto von Trautwangen;
and dared not attempt, by indissoluble bonds, to make Gabrielle his
own. The stream of their lives had indeed flowed together on their
long journey, that now seemed so short when they looked back on the
time past that could never return; and the mild silent Blanchefleur,
too well accustomed to resign all the dearest wishes of her own heart,
could in her sadness wish for no better pastime, than to have travelled
on, without ceasing, attended thus by her beloved brother and dearest
confidante.
At length it came to pass one day, that their eyes were met by the
bright gleaming of a river, winding through fertile fields and rich
meadows; when, on inquiring its name, they found that they had arrived
on the banks of the Danube. Glad that they were now in the far-famed
and prosperous land of Swabia, they encamped at midday under the
shade of some large elm-trees, not far from the river, unloaded their
sumpter-mules, and seated themselves on the fragrant turf, while the
squires handed round the brimming wine-cups.
All of a sudden, as they were thus occupied, a strange man, in a
gypsey’s dress, with a dark-brown complexion, came before them.
Hereupon Sir Folko threw at him some silver coins, and ordered him to
retire, fearing that by his strange looks the ladies might be alarmed.
Meanwhile, however, the Egyptian had taken from his shoulders a box,
which he now opened, and lo! there was therein such store of sparkling
gems, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, all set in the purest gold, that
the beautiful eyes of the two ladies were irresistibly attracted.
Thereupon Sir Folko began to speak with the stranger after a different
manner. On whatever gem the ladies seemed to cast a favouring glance,
he ordered that it should immediately be laid aside for them; and
then, when a large collection was formed, he inquired what was to be
the price of the jewels which he had thus chosen. The Egyptian demanded
a price, which was beyond measure extortionate; but the chevalier,
unused to the artifice of the merchant, and with his heart full of
knightly generosity, immediately commanded one of his squires to bring
the whole sum. Thereupon a broad grin came over the brown and yellow
visage of the strange man; he pretended that he had made a mistake in
his reckoning, looked over the jewels as if in deep reflection, and
then demanded double the price for which he had before stipulated. This
also the chevalier ordered to be paid to him; but, with unblushing
impudence, the gipsy then said, “Sir knight, to say the truth, these
goods are such as I cannot sell for any price; and no sum that you
could offer would induce me to part with such treasures.” “Whatever
their value may be, I am resolved to have them,” answered Sir Folko,
who was now roused to anger. “As for thee, base miscreant, who would’st
thus dare to insult two noble ladies, by withdrawing from sale the
wares which thou hast already offered, thy punishment would be less
than what is justly due, were I to take thy merchandize by violence out
of thy hands, and bestow the price which thou first demanded’st on some
neighbouring convent or hospital.” “Ay, ay,” said the merchant with a
significant grin, “there have ere now been many such knights who lived
by plunder; and who, if one might believe their own words, bestowed the
treasures which they had acquired on the poor. The only question now
is, whether thou art disposed to add one more to the number of this
worshipful fraternity?” With the deep blush of scorn and anger on his
visage, Sir Folko replied,--“Fellow, thou had’st best, in all haste,
retire from our presence, and take thy goods along with thee. Moreover,
if thou art a Christian, thou should’st thank God that, insolent and
dishonest as thou art, thou art fallen into the hands of a brave and
courteous knight, who is too kind-hearted to deal with thee as thou
hast deserved.” The gypsey man packed up his jewels, threw the box over
his shoulders, and retreated; after having gone a few paces, however,
he turned round, and said, pointing to a fortress on a high cliff
in the distance, “After a few hours, sir knight, you will perchance
have arrived at yonder castle; and I shall deal with you honestly for
whatever goods you are inclined to purchase; moreover, I shall treat
you with many wonderful sights and comedies, such as you have never in
your whole life beheld. It were well, however, if the two ladies were
also present; for as to my tricks of art, they concern all of you, and
I can fit them for every person, each after his own manner.” With these
words, he vanished suddenly into a neighbouring thicket.
In silence the three travellers looked towards the fortress on the
distant cliff, to which the stranger had pointed. Amid the green
foliage of oak-trees, that were perchance a thousand years old, the
venerable ramparts were visible, in their stern grandeur and strength;
the moss-grown pinnacles of the watch-towers rose proudly into the blue
firmament; and, on the highest summit of the keep, there was planted a
great golden cross, that now gleamed from afar in the sun.
“Thither we must now bend our way,” said Gabrielle in a low but
determined tone. “Whosoever that mysterious man may be, from whom we
have received this warning, a secret voice speaks within my heart, and
tells me, that our fate must there be decided.”
Thereupon Blanchefleur bowed her head in token of assent, and De
Montfaucon, with his mind filled with mysterious expectations,
commanded the squires immediately to break up the camp, and prepare for
setting forward on their journey.
Meanwhile a labourer happened to pass by, and the chevalier inquired
of him the name of yonder fortress.
“It is the renowned castle of Trautwangen,” said the bauer.
At these words Sir Folko and Gabrielle trembled as they looked at each
other; but, as if with one voice, both of them firmly repeated,--“We
must hasten thither, for there must the fate of all of us be decided.”