During the days which succeeded the mass for the dead the Ortlieb
mansion was very silent. The Burgrave von Zollern, who still gladly
concealed in his castle the brave companion in arms to whom he had
entrusted the imperial standard on the Marchfield, when his own strong
arm needed rest, had permitted Herr Ernst, as the young man’s future
father-in-law, to visit him. Both were now in constant communication, as
Els hoped, for the advantage of the Eysvogel business.
Biberli did not cease acting as messenger between her and her future
bridegroom; nay, he could now devote the lion’s share of his days to
it; his master, for the first time since he had entered his service, had
left him.
The Emperor had been informed of the great shock experienced by the
young knight, but it was unnecessary; an eye far less keen would not
have failed to note the change in Heinz Schorlin.
The noble man who, even as a sovereign, retained the warmth of heart
which had characterised him in his youth as a count, sincerely loved his
blithe, loyal, brave young countryman, whose father he had valued, whose
mother he highly esteemed, and who had been the dearest friend of the
son whom death had so early snatched from him.
He knew him thoroughly, and had watched his development with increasing
warmth of sympathy, the more so as many a trait of character which he
recognised in Heinz reminded him of his own nature and aspirations at
his age.
At the court of Frederick II he too had not always walked in the
paths of virtue but, like Heinz, he had never let this merge into
licentiousness, and had maintained the chivalrous dignity of his station
even more strictly than the former.
Neither had he at any time deviated from the sincere piety which he
had brought from his home to the imperial court, and this was far more
difficult in the train of the bold and intellectual Hohenstaufen, who
was prone to blaspheme even the holiest things, than for Heinz.
Finally he, too, had lapsed into the mood which threatened to lead the
light-hearted Schorlin into a monastery.
The mighty impulse which, at that time, owing to the example and
teachings of St. Francis in Italy, had taken possession of so many
minds, also left its impress on his young soul, already agitated by
sympathy with many an extravagant idea, many an opinion condemned by
the Church. But ere he had taken even the first decisive step he was
summoned home. His father had resolved to obtain on the sacred soil of
Palestine the mercy of Heaven which was denied to the excommunicated
Emperor, and desired his oldest son, Rudolph, to represent him at home.
Before his departure he confided to his noble son his aspirations for
the grandeur and enlargement of his house, and the youth of twenty-one
did not venture to tell the dignified, far-sighted man, whom his
subjects rightly surnamed “the Wise,” his ardent desire to live
henceforth solely for the salvation of his endangered soul.
The sense of duty inherited from father and mother, which both had
imprinted deeply upon his soul, and also the ambition that had been
sedulously fostered at the court of the Emperor Frederick, had given
him courage to repress forever the wish with which he had left the
Hohenstaufen court. The sacrifice was hard, but he made it willingly
as soon as it became apparent to his reflective mind that not only his
earthly but his heavenly Father had appointed the task of devoting the
full wealth of his talents and the power of his will to the elevation of
the house of Hapsburg.
The very next year he stood in the place of his father who fell at
Ascalon, deeply lamented.
The arduous labour imposed by the management of his own great
possessions, and the ceaseless endeavour to enlarge them, in accordance
with the dead man’s wishes, gave him no time to cherish the longing for
the peace of the cloister.
After his election as King of Germany, which had long been neglected
under the government of sham emperors, increased the burden of his
duties the more seriously he took them, and the more difficult the
Bohemian king Ottocar, especially, rendered it for him to maintain the
crown he had won, the more eagerly he strove, particularly after the
victory of Marchfield had secured his sovereignty, to increase the power
of his house.
A binding duty, a difficult task, must also withhold Heinz Schorlin from
the wish for whose fulfilment his fiery young soul now fervently longed,
and which he knew was receiving powerful sustenance from a worthy and
eloquent Minorite.
Rudolph’s own brother had died in peace as canon of Basel and
Strasbourg; his sister was happy in her convent as a modest Dominican;
but the young knight over whose welfare he had promised his mother to
watch, and whom he loved, was not fitted for the monastic life.
However earnest might be his intention--after the miracle which seemed
to have been wrought specially for him--of renouncing the world, sooner
or later the time must come when Heinz would long to return to it and
the profession of arms, for which he was born and reared. But if he
could not be deterred from entering the modest order of the mendicant
monks, who proudly called poverty their beloved bride, and should become
the head of a bishopric while young, he would inevitably be one of
those fighting prelates who seemed to the Emperor--who disliked halfway
measures--neither knight nor priest, and with whom he had had many a
quarrel.
Opposition would merely have sharpened the young knight’s desire;
therefore his imperial patron had treated him as if he were ignorant of
what was passing in his mind. Without circumlocution, he commanded him,
at the head of several bodies of Frank, Swabian, and Swiss troopers,
whom he placed at his orders, to attack the brothers Siebenburg and
their allies, and destroy their castle. If possible, he was to bring
them alive before the imperial judgment seat, and recover for the
Eysvogels the merchandise of which they had been robbed.
When Heinz, after the Emperor Rudolph had mentioned the latter name,
earnestly entreated him to prevent Wolff’s persecution, the sovereign
promised to fulfil the wish as soon as the proper time came. He himself
desired to be gracious to the brave champion of Marchfield, who under
great irritation had drawn his sword. But when Heinz also asked the
Emperor to send his friend Count Gleichen with him, the request was
refused. He must have the entire responsibility of the expedition which
he commanded; for nothing except an important duty that no one would
help him bear, gave promise of making him forget everything that usually
engrossed his attention, and thus his new object of longing. Besides, if
he returned victorious his fame and reward would be undivided.
The Hapsburg wished to try upon his young favourite the means which had
availed to keep his own footsteps in the path which he desired to see
Heinz follow: constant occupation associated with heavy responsibility,
the success which brings with it the hope of future achievement and
thereby rouses ambition.
The wisdom and kindness of heart of the Emperor Rudolph, whom the
grey-haired ruler’s friends called “Wisdom,” had certainly chosen the
right course for Heinz. But he who had always regarded every opportunity
of drawing his sword for his master as a rare piece of good fortune,
shrank in dismay from this, the most important and honourable charge
that had ever been bestowed upon him. It drew him away from the new
path in which he did not yet feel at home, because the love he could not
abjure constantly thrust him into the world, into the midst of the life
and tumult from which Heaven itself commanded him to turn aside.
The Minorite had scarcely been right in the assertion that only the
first rounds of the ladder which leads to heavenly bliss were hard to
climb.
How quickly he had set his foot on the first step; but each upward
stride was followed by one that dragged him down-nay, it had seemed
advisable wholly to renounce the effort to ascend them, when the monk
expected him to sever the bond which united him to the Emperor, and to
tell the sovereign that he had entered the service of a greater Master,
who commanded him to fight with other weapons than the sword and lance.
Heinz had regarded this demand as a summons to turn traitor. It did not
seem to be the call of the devout, experienced director of souls to the
disciples, but the Guelph to the Ghibelline, for Ghibelline he meant to
remain. Gratitude was a Christian virtue, too, and to refuse his service
to the Emperor, who had been a father to him, to whom he had sworn
fealty, and who had loaded him with benefits, could not be pleasing
in the sight of any God. He could never become a Guelph, he told his
venerable friend. The Emperor Rudolph was his beloved master, from whom
he had received nothing but kindness. He might as well be required to
refuse obedience to his own father.
“What Guelph? What Ghibelline?” cried the Minorite in a tone of grave
rebuke. “The question is submission to the Most High, or to the world
and its claims. And why should not Heaven require, as you term it, that
you should obey the Lord more willingly than your earthly father--you,
whom the mercy of God summoned amidst thunder and lightning in the
presence of thousands? When Francis, our beloved model, the son of Pier
Bernardone, was threatened with his father’s curse if he did not turn
back from the path which led to the highest goal, Francis restored all
that he had received from him, except his last garment, and with the
exclamation, ‘Our Father who art in heaven, not Pier Bernardone,’ he
made the choice between his earthly and his heavenly Father. From the
former he would have received in abundance everything that the heart
of a child of the world desires-wealth, paternal love, and the blessing
which is said to build houses on earth. But Francis preferred poverty
and contempt, nay, even his father’s curse and the reproach of
ingratitude, receiving in exchange possessions of a nobler nature and
more lasting character. You have heard their names. To obtain them,
means to share the bliss of heaven. And you”--he continued loudly,
adopting for the first time a tone of authoritative severity--“if you
really yearned for the greatest possessions, go to the fortress this
very hour, and with the cry in your heart, though not on your lips,
‘Our Father who art in heaven, not my gracious master and benefactor
Rudolph,’ inform the Emperor what higher Lord you have vowed to serve.”
This kindled a fierce conflict in Heinz Schorlin’s soul, which perhaps
might have ended in favour of a new career and St. Francis, had not
Biberli, ere he reached a conclusion, rushed into the room shouting:
“Seitz Siebenburg, the Mustache, has joined his brothers, and the Knight
of Absbach, with several others--von Hirsdorf, von Streitberg, and
whatever their names may be--have made common cause with them! It is
said that they also expected reinforcements from the Main, in order that
the right to the road----”
“Gossip, or positive news?” interrupted Heinz, drawing himself up to his
full height with the cool composure which he attained most easily when
any serious danger threatened him.
“As positive,” replied his follower eagerly, “as that Siebenburg is the
greatest rascal in Germany. You will be robbed of your joust with him,
for he’ll mount the block instead of the steed, just as you predicted.
The ladies will drive him from the lists with pins and rods, to say
nothing of the scourging by which knight and squire will silence him.
Oh, my lord, if you only knew!”
“Well?” asked the knight anxiously.
Then Biberli, paying no further heed to his master’s orders never
to mention the Ortlieb sisters again in his presence, burst forth
indignantly: “It might move a stone to pity to know the wrong the
monster has done Jungfrau Eva and her pure and virtuous sister, the
loyal betrothed bride of a brave man--and the abominable names bestowed
on the young ladies, whom formerly young and old, hat in hand, called
the beautiful Es.”
Heinz stamped his foot on the floor and, half frantic, impetuously
exclaimed, his blood boiling with honest indignation: “May the air he
breathes destroy the slandering scoundrel! May I be flayed on the rack
if----”
Here he was interrupted by a low exclamation of warning from the
Minorite, who perceived in the knight’s fierce oaths a lamentable
relapse. Heinz himself felt ashamed of the ungodly imprecations; yet he
could by no means succeed in regaining his former composure as, drawing
a long breath, he continued: “And those city hypocrites, who call
themselves Christians, and build costly cathedrals for the good of their
souls, are not ashamed--yes, holy Father, it is true--basely to deny
our Lord and Saviour, who is Love itself, and deemed even the Magdalen
worthy of His mercy, and rub their hands in fiendish malignity when
unpunished they can sully the white robe of innocence, and drag pious,
lovely simplicity to the pillory.”
“That is the very reason, my son,” the monk interrupted soothingly,
“that we disciples of the Saint of Assisi go forth to show the deluded
what the Lord requires of them. Therefore leave behind you the dust of
the world, which defiles both body and soul, join us, who did so before
you, and help, as one of our order, to make those who are perishing
in sin and dishonouring the name of Christ better and purer, genuine
Christians. In this hour of stress lay the sword out of your hand, and
leave the steed----”
“I shall ride forth, rely upon it, holy Father,” Heinz burst forth
afresh. “With the sky-blue of the gracious Virgin, whom I love, on
my shield and helmet, I will dash like the angel Michael amongst the
Siebenburgs and their followers. And let me tell you, holy Father--you
who were once a knight also--if the Mustache, weltering in his blood at
my feet, prays for mercy, I’ll teach him----”
“Son! son!” interrupted the monk again, this time raising his hands
imploringly; but Heinz, paying no heed, exclaimed hoarsely:
“Where did you get this news?”
“From our Berne countryman at the fortress,” replied the servant
eagerly; “Brandenstein, Schweppermann, and Heidenab brought the tidings.
The Emperor received them at the gate of the citadel, where he was
keeping watch ere he mounted his steed. He heard him call to the
messengers, ‘So our Heinz Schorlin will have a hard nut to crack.’”
“Which he will crush after his own heart!” cried Heinz, with flashing
eyes.
Then, forcing himself to be calm, he exclaimed in broken sentences,
whilst Biberli was helping him put on his armour: “Your wish, reverend
Father, is also mine. The world--the sooner I can rid myself of it the
better; yet what you describe in the most alluring terms is the peace in
your midst, I--I--Never, never will my heart be calm until----”
Here he paused suddenly, struck his breast swiftly and repeatedly with
his fists, and continued eagerly: “Here, Father Benedictus, here are old
and strong demands, which you, too, must once have known ere you offered
the other cheek to the foe. I know not what to call them, but until they
are satisfied I shall never be yours. They must be fulfilled; then,
if in battle and bloodshed I can also forget the love which ever rises
again when I think I have given it the deathblow, if Heaven still
desires poor, heartsick Heinz Schorlin, it shall have him.”
The Minorite received the promise with a silent bend of the head. He
felt that he might seriously endanger the fulfilment of his ardent wish
to gain this soul for heaven if he urged Heinz further now. Patiently
awaiting a more fitting season, he therefore contented himself with
questioning him carelessly about the foe and his castles.
The day was hot, and as Biberli laced the gambeson--the thick, quilted
undergarment over which was worn the heavy leather coat covered with
scales and rings--the monk exclaimed: “When the duty which you believe
you owe to the world has been fulfilled, you will gratefully learn, as
one of our order, how pleasant it is to walk with liberated soul in our
light-brown cowl.”
But he ought to have repressed the remark, for Heinz cast a glance at
him which expressed his astonishment at being so misunderstood, and
answered with unyielding resolution: “If I long for anything in your
order, reverend Father, it is not for easy tasks, but for the most
difficult burden of all. Your summons to take our Redeemer’s cross upon
me pleases me better.”
“And I, my son, believe that your words will be inscribed amongst those
which are sure of reward,” the monk answered; then with bowed head added
“At that moment you were nearer the kingdom of heaven than the aged
companion of St. Francis.”
But perceiving how impatiently Heinz shrugged his shoulders, and
convinced that it would be advisable to leave him to himself for a time,
the old man blessed him with paternal affection and went his way. When
the fiery youth had performed the task which now claimed all his powers,
he hoped to find him more inclined to allow himself to be led farther
along the path which he had entered.