At Heinz Schorlin’s quarters the day before his young hostess, Frau
Barbel, had had the costly armour entrusted to her care, and the
trappings belonging to it, cleaned and put in order, but her labour
was vain; for Heinz Schorlin had ridden directly to the fortress from
Schweinau, without stopping at his lodgings in the city.
Only a short time before he had learned that his two messengers had been
captured and failed to reach their destination. He owed this information
to Sir Boemund Altrosen--and many another piece of news which Cordula
had given him.
The main portion of Heinz Schorlin’s task was completed when the
countess’s ambassador reached him, so he set out on his homeward way
at once, and this time his silent friend had been eloquent and told him
everything which had occurred during his absence.
He now knew that Boemund and Cordula had plighted their troth, what the
faithful Biberli had done and suffered for him, and lastly--even to the
minutest detail--the wonderful transformation in Eva.
When he had ridden forth he had hoped to learn to renounce her whom he
loved with all the might of his fervid soul, and to bring himself to
close his career as a soldier with this successful campaign; but whilst
he destroyed castles and attacked the foe, former wishes were stilled,
and a new desire and new convictions took their place. He could not give
up the profession of arms, which all who bore the name of Schorlin had
practised from time immemorial, and to resign the love which united
him to Eva was impossible. She must become his, though she resembled
an April day, and Biberli’s tales of the danger which threatened the
husband from a sleep-walking wife returned more than once to his memory.
Yet what beautiful April days he had experienced, and though Eva might
have many faults, the devout child, with her angel beauty, certainly did
not lack the will to do what was right and pleasing to God. When she was
once his she should become so good that even his mother at home would
approve his choice.
He had wholly renounced the idea of going into the monastery. The
Minorite Ignatius, whom Father Benedictus had sent after him that he
might finish the work which the latter had begun, was a man who lacked
neither intellect nor eloquence; but he did not possess the fiery
enthusiasm and aristocratic confidence of the dead man. Yet when the
zealous monks, whom the prior of the Dominicans had despatched to
complete Heinz’s conversion, opposed him, the former entered into such
sharp and angry arguments with them that the young knight, who witnessed
more than one of their quarrels, startled and repelled, soon held aloof
from all three and told them that he had resolved to remain in the
world, and his onerous office gave him no time to listen to their
well-meant admonitions.
He was not created for the monastery. If Heaven had vouchsafed him a
miracle, it was done to preserve his life that--as Eva desired--he might
fight to the last drop of his blood for the Church, his holy faith, and
the beloved Emperor. But if he remained in the world, Eva would do the
same; they belonged to each other inseparably. Why, he could not have
explained, but the voice which constantly reiterated it could not lie.
After he had slain Seitz Siebenburg in the sword combat, and destroyed
his brother’s castle, his resolve to woo Eva became absolutely fixed.
His heart dictated this, but honour, too, commanded him to restore to
the maiden and her sister the fair fame which his passionate impetuosity
had injured.
During the rapid ride which he and Boemund Altrosen took to Nuremberg
he had stopped at Schweinau hospital, and found in Biberli, Eva’s former
enemy, her most enthusiastic panegyrist. Heinz also heard from him how
quickly she had won the hearts of his mother and Maria, and that he
would find all three at the fortress.
Lastly, Sister Hildegard had informed him of the great peril threatening
his beloved faithful servant and companion, “old Biber,” which had led
Eva there to appeal to the Emperor.
Beside the body of Father Benedictus he learned how beautiful had been
the death of the old man who had so honestly striven to lead him into
the path which he believed was the right one for him to tread. In a
brief prayer beside his devout friend Heinz expressed his gratitude, and
called upon him to witness that, even in the world, he would not forget
the shortness of this earthly pilgrimage, but would also provide for
the other life which endured forever. True, Heinz had but a few short
moments to devote to this farewell, the cause of the faithful follower
who, unasked, had unselfishly endured unutterable tortures for him, took
precedence of everything else and would permit no delay.
When the knight, with his figure drawn up to its full height, strode
hastily into the royal hall, he beheld with joyful emotion those who
were most dear to him, for whose presence he had longed most fervently
during the ride--his mother, Eva, his sister, and the imperial friend he
loved so warmly.
Overwhelmed by agitation, he flung himself on his knees before his
master, kissing his hand and his robe, but the Emperor ordered him to
rise and cordially greeted him.
Before speaking to his relatives, Heinz informed the monarch that he
had successfully executed his commission and, receiving a few words of
thanks and appreciation, modestly but with urgent warmth entreated the
Emperor, if he was satisfied with his work, instead of any other reward,
to save from further persecution the faithful servant who for his sake
had borne the most terrible torture.
The face of the sovereign, who had welcomed Heinz as if he were a
long-absent son, assumed a graver expression, and his tone seemed to
vibrate with a slight touch of indignation, as he exclaimed: “First, let
us settle your own affairs. Serious charges have been made against you,
my son, as well as against your servant, on whose account I have been so
tormented. A father, who is one of the leading men in this city, accuses
you of having destroyed his daughter’s good name by forcing yourself
into his house after assuring his child of your love.”
Heinz turned to Eva, to protest that he was here to atone for the wrong
he had done her, but the Emperor would not permit him to speak. It was
important to silence at once any objection which could be made against
the marriage by ecclesiastical and secular foes; therefore, eagerly as
he desired to enjoy the happiness of the young pair, he forced himself
to maintain the expression of grave dissatisfaction which he had
assumed, and ordered a page to summon the imperial magistrate, the First
Losunger of the city, and his protonotary, who were all amongst the
guests, and, lastly, the Duchess Agnes.
He could read the latter’s child eyes like the clear characters of
a book, and neither the radiant glow on her face at Heinz Schorlin’s
entrance nor her hostile glance at the Countess von Montfort had escaped
his notice. Both her affection and her jealous resentment should serve
him.
The young Bohemian now thought herself certain that Heinz Schorlin, and
no other, was Cordula’s chosen knight; the countess, at his entrance,
had exclaimed to her father loudly enough, “Here he is again!”
When the princess stood before the Emperor, with the gentlemen whom he
had summoned, he asked her to decide the important question.
“Yonder knight--he motioned towards Heinz--had been guilty of an act
which could scarcely be justified. Though he had wooed the daughter of a
noble Nuremberg family, and even forced his way into her father’s house,
he had apparently forgotten the poor girl.
“And,” cried the young wife indignantly, “the unprincipled man has
not only made a declaration of love to another, but formally asked her
hand.”
“That would seem like him,” said the Emperor. “But we must not close our
ears to the charge of the Nuremberg Honourable. His daughter, a lovely,
modest maiden of excellent repute, has been seriously injured by
Heinz Schorlin, and so I beg you, child, to tell us, with the keen
appreciation of the rights and duties of a lady which is peculiar to
you, what sentence, in your opinion, should be imposed upon Sir Heinz
Schorlin to atone for the wrong he has done to the young Nuremberg
maiden.”
He beckoned to the protonotary, as he spoke, to command him to show
Ernst Ortlieb’s accusation to the duchess, but she seemed to have
practised the art of reading admirably; for, more quickly than it would
otherwise have appeared possible to grasp the meaning of even the first
sentences, she exclaimed, drawing herself up to her full height and
gazing at Cordula with haughty superiority: “There is but one decision
here, if the morality of this noble city is to be preserved and the
maiden daughters of her patrician families secured henceforward from the
misfortune of being a plaything for the wanton levity of reckless heart
breakers. But this decision, on which I firmly and resolutely insist, as
lady and princess, in the name of my whole sex and of all knightly men
who, with me, prize the reverence and inviolable fidelity due a lady,
is: Sir Heinz Schorlin must ask the honourable gentleman who, with
full justice, brought this complaint to your imperial Majesty, for his
daughter’s hand and, if the sorely injured maiden vouchsafes to accept
it, lead her to the marriage altar before God and the world.”
“Spoken according to the feelings of my own heart,” replied the Emperor
and, turning to the citizens of Nuremberg, he added: “So I ask you,
gentlemen, who are familiar with the laws and customs of this good
city and direct the administration of her justice, will such a marriage
remove the complaint made against Sir Heinz Schorlin and his servant?”
“It will,” replied old Herr Berthold Vorchtel, gravely and firmly.
Herr Pfinzing also assented, it is true, but added earnestly that an
unfortunate meeting had caused another to suffer even more severely
than Eva from the knight’s imprudence. This was her older sister, the
betrothed bride of young Eysvogel. For her sake, as well as to make the
bond between Sir Heinz Schorlin and the younger Jungfrau Ortlieb valid,
the father’s consent was necessary. If his imperial Majesty desired
to bring to a beautiful end, that very day, the gracious work so
auspiciously commenced there was no obstacle in the way, for Ernst
Ortlieb was at the von Zollern Castle with the daughter who had been so
basely slandered.
The Emperor asked in surprise how they came there, and then ordered
Eva’s father and sister to be brought to him. He was eager to make the
acquaintance of the second beautiful E.
“And Wolff Eysvogel?” asked the magistrate.
“We agreed to release him after we had turned our back on Nuremberg,”
replied the sovereign. “Much as we have heard in praise of this young
man, gladly as we have shown him how gratefully we prize the blood a
brave man shed for us upon the Marchfield, no change can be made in
what, by virtue of our imperial word----”
“Certainly not, little brother,” interrupted the court fool, Eyebolt,
“but for that very reason you must open the Eysvogel’s cage as quickly
as possible and let him fly hither, for on the ride to the beekeeper’s
you crossed in your own seven-foot tall body the limits of this good
city, whose length does not greatly surpass it--your imperial person, I
mean. So you as certainly turned your back upon it as you stand in front
of things which lie behind you. And as an emperor’s word cannot have
as much added or subtracted as a fly carries off on its tail, if it
has one, you, little brother, are obliged and bound to have the strange
monster, which is at once a wolf and a bird, immediately released and
summoned hither.”
“Not amiss,” laughed the Emperor, “if the boundaries of Nuremberg saw
our back for even so brief a space as it needs to make a wise man a
fool.
“We will follow your counsel, Eyebolt.--Herr Pfinzing, tell young
Eysvogel that the Emperor’s pardon has ended his punishment. The breach
of the country’s peace may be forgiven the man who so heroically aided
the battle for peace.”
Then turning to Meister Gottlieb, the protonotary, he whispered so low
that he alone could hear the command, that he should commit to paper a
form of words which would give the bond between Heinz Schorlin and Eva
Ortlieb sufficient legal power to resist both secular authority and that
of the Dominicans and Sisters of St. Clare.
During this conference court etiquette had prevented the company from
exchanging any remarks. Whatever one person might desire to say to
another he was forced to entrust to the mute language of the eyes, and
a sportive impulse induced Emperor Rudolph to maintain the spell which
held apart those who were most strongly attracted to each other.
Meantime, whilst he was talking with the protonotary, the bolder guests
ventured to move about more freely, and of them all Cordula imposed the
least restraint upon herself.
Ere Heinz had found time to address a word to Eva or to greet his mother
she glided swiftly to his side and, with an angry expression on her
face, whispered: “If Heaven bestowed the greatest happiness upon the
most deserving, you must be the most favoured of mortals, for a more
exquisite masterpiece than your future wife--I know her--was never
created. But now open your ears and follow my advice: Do not reveal the
state of your heart until you have left the castle so far behind that
you are out of sight of the Bohemian princess, or your ship of happiness
may be wrecked within sight of port.”
Then, with a well-assumed air of indignation, she abruptly turned her
back upon him.
After moving away, she intentionally remained standing near the duchess,
with drooping head. The latter hastily approached her, saying with
admirably simulated earnestness: “You, Countess, will probably be the
last to refuse your approval of my interference against our knightly
butterfly and in behalf of the poor inexperienced girl, his victim.”
“If that is your Highness’s opinion,” replied Cordula, shrugging her
shoulders as if it were necessary to submit to the inevitable, “for my
part I fear your kind solicitude may send me behind convent walls.”
“Countess von Montfort a nun!” cried the child wife, laughing. “If it
were Sir Heinz Schorlin to whom you just alluded, you, too, are among
the deluded ones whom we must pity, yet with prudent foresight you
provided compensation long ago. Instead of burying yourself in a
convent, you, whom so many desire, would do better to beckon to one of
your admirers and bestow on him the happiness of which the other was not
worthy.”
Cordula fixed her eyes thoughtfully on the floor a short time, then,
as if the advice had met with her approval, exclaimed: “Your Royal
Highness’s mature wisdom has found the right expedient this time also.
I am not fit for the veil. Perhaps you may hear news of me to-morrow.
By that time my choice will be determined. What would you say to the
dark-haired Altrosen?”
“A brave champion!” replied the Bohemian, and this time the laugh which
accompanied her words came from the heart. “Try him, in the name of all
the saints! But look at Sir Heinz Schorlin! A gloomy face for a happy
man! He does not seem quite pleased with our verdict.”
She beckoned, as she spoke, to her chamberlain and the high steward,
took leave of her imperial father-in-law and, with her pretty little
head flung proudly back, rustled out of the hall.
Soon after Herr Pfinzing ushered Ernst Ortlieb, his daughter, and Wolff
into the presence of the sovereign, who gazed as if restored to youth
at the handsome couple whose weal or woe was in his hands. This
consciousness afforded him one of the moments when he gratefully felt
the full beauty and dignity of his responsible position.
With friendly words he restored Wolff’s liberty, and expressed the
expectation that, with such a companion, he would raise the noble house
of his ancestors to fresh prosperity.
When he at last turned to Heinz again he asked in a low tone: “Do you
know what this day means to me?”
“Nineteen years ago it gave you poor Hartmann,” replied the knight, his
downcast eyes resting sadly on the floor.
The kind-hearted sovereign nodded significantly, and said, “Then it must
benefit those who, so long as he lives, may expect his father’s favour.”
He gazed thoughtfully into vacancy and, faithful to his habit of fixing
his eye on a goal, often distant, and then carefully carrying out the
details which were to ensure success, ere he turned to the next one, he
summoned the imperial magistrate and the First Losunger to his side.
After disclosing to them his desire to allow the judges to decide and,
should the verdict go against Biberli, release him from punishment by
a pardon, both undertook to justify the absence of the accused from
the trial. The wise caution with which the Emperor Rudolph avoided
interfering with the rights of the Honourable Council afforded old Herr
Berthold Vorchtel great satisfaction. Both he and the magistrate, sure
of the result, could promise that this affair, which had aroused so
much excitement, especially among the artisans, would be ended by the
marriage of the two Ortlieb sisters and the payment of the blood money
to the wounded tailor. Any new complaint concerning them would then be
lawfully rejected by both court and magistrate.
Never had Heinz thanked his imperial benefactor more warmly for
any gift, but though the Emperor received his gallant favourite’s
expressions of gratitude and appreciation kindly, he did not yet permit
him to enjoy his new happiness.
There were still some things which must be decided, and for the third
time his peculiar smile showed the initiated that he was planning some
pleasant surprise for those whom it concerned.
The mention of the blood money which Herr Ernst Ortlieb owed the
slandering tailor, who had not yet recovered from his wound, induced the
Emperor to look at the father of the beautiful sisters.
He knew that Herr Ernst had also lost a valiant son in the battle of
Marchfield, and Eva’s father had been described as an excellent man, but
one with whom it was difficult to deal. Now, spite of the new happiness
of his children, the sovereign saw him glance gloomily, as if some
wrong had been done him, from his daughters to Heinz, and then to Lady
Schorlin and Maria, to whom he had not yet been presented. He doubtless
felt that the Emperor had treated him and his family with rare
graciousness, and was entitled to their warmest gratitude yet, as a
father and a member of the proud and independent Honourable Council
of the free imperial city of Nuremberg, he considered his rights
infringed--nay, it had cost him a severe struggle not to protest against
such arbitrary measures. He had his paternal rights even here--Els and
Eva were not parentless orphans.
The noble monarch and shrewd judge of human nature perceived what was
passing in the Nuremberg merchant’s mind, but the pleasant smile still
rested on his lips as, with a glance at the ill-humoured Honourable, he
exclaimed to his future son-in-law: “I have just remembered something,
Heinz, which might somewhat cool your warm expressions of gratitude.
Yonder lovely child consented to become yours, it is true, but that does
not mean very much, for it was done without the consent of her father,
by which the compact first obtains signature and seal. Herr Ernst
Ortlieb, however, seems to be in no happy mood. Only look at him! He is
certainly mutely accusing me of vexatious interference with his paternal
rights, and yet he may be sure that I feel a special regard for him. His
son’s blood, which flowed for his Emperor’s cause, gives him a peculiar
claim upon our consideration, and we therefore devoted particular
attention to his complaint. In this he now demands, my son, that you
restore to him, Herr Ernst Ortlieb, the two hundred silver marks which
are awarded to the tailor as blood money and he must pay to the injured
artisan. The prudent business man can scarcely be blamed for making this
claim, for the wound he inflicted upon the ill-advised tradesman who
so basely, insulted those dearest to him would certainly not have been
dealt had not your insolent intrusion into the Ortlieb mansion unchained
evil tongues. So, Heinz, you caused his hasty act, and therefor, are
justly bound to answer for the consequence; If he brings the accusation,
the judges will condemn you to pay the sum. I therefore ask whether you
have it ready.”
Here Herr Ernst attempted to explain that, in the present state of
affairs, there could be no further mention of a payment which was only,
intended to punish the disturber of his domestic peace more severely;
but the Emperor stopper him and bade Heinz speak.
The latter gazed in embarrassment at the helmet he held in his hand, and
had not yet found; fitting answer when the Emperor cried: “What am I
to think? Was the Duke of Pomerani; wrong when he told me of a heap of
gold----”
“No, Your Majesty,” Heinz here interrupter without raising his eyes.
“What was left of the money would have more than sufficed to cover the
sum required----”
“I thought so!” exclaimed the sovereign with out letting him finish;
“for a young knight who like a great lord, bestows a fine estate upon
the pious Franciscans, certainly need only command his treasurer to open
the strong box----”
“You are mocking me, Your Majesty,” Heinz quietly interposed. “You are
doubtless well aware whence the golden curse came to me. I thrust it
aside like noxious poison, and if I am reluctant to use it to buy, as it
were, what is dearest and most sacred to me, indeed it does not spring
from parsimony, for I had resolved to offer the two remaining purses to
the devout Sisters of St. Clare and the zealous Minorite Brothers, one
of the best of whom laboured earnestly for the salvation of my soul.”
“That is right, my son,” fell from the Emperor’s lips in a tone of warm
approval. “If the gold benefits the holy poverty of these pious Brothers
and Sisters, the devil’s gift may easily be transformed into a divine
blessing. You both--” he gazed affectionately at Heinz and Eva as
he spoke--“have, as it were, deserted the cloister, and owe it
compensation. But your depriving yourself of your golden treasure,
my friend--for two hundred silver marks are no trifle to a young
knight--puts so different a face upon this matter that--that----” Here
he lowered his voice and continued with affectionate mirthfulness--“that
a friend must determine to do what he can for him. True, my gallant
Heinz, I see that your future father-in-law, the other Nuremberg
Honourables, and even your mother, are ready to pay the sum; but he who
is most indebted to you holds fast this privilege, and that man am I,
my brave champion! What you did for your Emperor and his best work, the
peace of the country, deserves a rich reward and, thanks to the saints,
I have something which will discharge my debt. The Swabian fief of
Reichenbach became vacant. It has a strong citadel, from which we
command you to maintain the peace of the country and overthrow robber
knights. This fief shall be yours. You can enjoy it with your dear wife.
It must belong to your children and children’s children forever; for
that a Schorlin should be born who would be unworthy of such a fief and
faithless to his lord and Emperor seems to me impossible. Three villages
and broad forests, with fields and meadows, pertain to the estate. As
lord of Reichenbach, it will be easy for you to pay the blood money, if
your father-in-law is not too importunate a creditor.”
The latter certainly would not be that, and it cost Ernst Ortlieb no
effort to bend the knee gratefully before the kindly monarch.
The Emperor Rudolph accepted the homage, but he clasped the young lord
of Reichenbach to his heart like a beloved son, and as he placed Eva’s
hand in his, and she raised her beautiful face to him, he stooped and
kissed her with fatherly kindness.
When Wolff entreated him to bless his alliance in the place of his
suffering father, he did so gladly; and Els also willingly offered him
her lips; when he requested the same favour her sister had granted him,
that he might boast of the kisses bestowed on him by the two beautiful
Es, Nuremberg’s fairest maidens.