CHAPTER XVIII.

Though Ann’s hopeful mood distressed me, these same hopes in my

world-wise Aunt Jacoba raised my spirit; but again, when I heard my

grand-uncle speak of Herdegen as his duteous son, it fell as low as

before. The old man had shown much contentment at my plighting to Hans,

and had given me a precious set of rubies as a wedding gift; yet could I

scarce take pleasure in them, inasmuch as he told me then and there that

he had the like in store for the noble damsel whom Herdegen should wed.

Cousin Maud was in great wrath, when she knew that we had it in our

minds even yet to bring Ann and Herdegen together; howbeit this did not

hinder her from being as kind to Ann as she was ever wont to be, and

giving her pleasure with gifts great and small whenever she might. She

had her own thoughts touching my brother’s faithlessness. She deemed it

a triumph of noble blood over the yearnings of his heart; and the more

she loved to think well of her darling the more comfort she found in

this interpretation.

Among those few who had known of his betrothal to Ann was the

bee-master’s widow, Dame Henneleinlein; and she had cradled herself so

gladly in the hope of being ere long kin to a noble family, that its

wrecking filled her heart with bitter rage, and in all the houses

whither she carried her honey she never failed to speak slander of

Herdegen.

All this would never have troubled me, if only I might have rejoiced in

the presence of my dear love; but alas! no more than three weeks after

our betrothal he was sent, as squire to Master Erhart Schurstab, away to

court, where they were to lay before the Emperor Sigismund in the name

of Nuremberg the various hindrances in the way of our trafficking

with Venice, whereas since the late war his Majesty had been mightily

ill-disposed towards that great and famous city.

There was no remedy but patience; my lover wrote to me often, and his

loving letters would have filled me with joy, if it had not been that in

each one there was ever some sad tidings of Junker Henning, whom I

yet held in high esteem. This young lord, who was in attendance on his

Majesty--who never held his court for more than a few days at the

same place--or ever he left Vienna to go to Ratisbon, had made a close

friendship with my plighted master, and had been serviceable to him in

all things wherein he might; and Hans had said of him that he was one

in whom there was no guile, with the open heart and bright temper of

a child. Such an one, indeed, was his; yet, in the midst of the gayest

mirth, his grief of heart would so mightily come upon him that he fell

into a sudden gloom; and out of the fulness of his sorrow he confessed

to Hans that he could never cease to think of Ann. Whereupon my dear

love conceived that it must be his woeful duty to tell his friend

that the lady of his choice had no free heart to give him. Yet to the

Junker’s question whether she were plighted to another, and whether he

were minded to wed her, Hans was forced in truth to say nay. This gave

the lovesick youth new courage, and at length he went so far as that

Hans enquired of me whether Ann might not after all be willing to give

up Herdegen, who well deserved it at her hands, and to take pity on so

brave and true-hearted a lover as the Junker.

To this I could make no answer other than: “Never--never;” inasmuch as,

having shown Ann this letter, and, moreover, loudly sung the praise of

her suitor, she asked me right sadly whether I was weary of confirming

her in her love for my brother; and when I eagerly denied this,

she cried: “And you know me well! And you must know that nothing on

earth--nor you, nor Mistress Jacoba, nor all Nuremberg, could turn my

heart from my love!”

This did I forthwith write to Hans; but that letter never reached him,

and thus was he delivered from the grievous duty of robbing the Junker

of his last hope.

Alas, my Hans! How sorely I did long for thee every hour! And yet shall

I ever remember the month of June in that year with thankfulness.

Day after day did we maidens sit in the Hallers’ garden, for Hans’

worthy mother had soon taken Ann into her heart, and it became a fear

to me ere long lest her rare beauty should turn the head of his younger

brother Paulus, a likely lad of nineteen. As the summer waxed hot we

went into the forest at the bidding of my uncle and aunt, who took great

joy in seeing their favorite in right good heart and wondrous beauty,

Mistress Giovanna having provided her with seemly and brave apparel.

Nor was there any lack of good fellowship; many young noblemen bore us

company, and whereas the town was full of illustrious guests, many of

them found their way out to the forest.

This was by reason that the Prince Electors and the other rulers of

the Empire, and foremost of them all our High Constable, had, indeed,

declared that the great Assembly should be held at Nuremberg and not at

Ratisbon; and when they were all gathered in our good town, the Emperor

Sigismund, after he had waited for five days at Ratisbon, was fain at

last, whether or no, to follow them hither. Then had his Chamberlains

been sent before him, and among them again came Duke Rumpold von Glogau

and Junker Henning von Beust, while his Majesty kept my Hans still about

his person. Now, when the Emperor’s forerunners had fulfilled their

duties, they likewise were bidden to the forest-lodge; and with them

came the lord of Eberstein, and an Italian Conte, Fazio di Puppi, both

well skilled in song and the lute. Yet was my brother Herdegen still

absent, albeit we had looked for him at Whitsuntide.

Cousin Maud bided at home, where there was much to be done in preparing

fitting cheer for the noble fellowship who were to be lodged in the

Schopperhof; nay, the old house was to be decked outside with a festal

dress, in obedience to the behest of the town-council that every citizen

should do his utmost so to cleanse and adorn his house, that it should

please the eyes of his Majesty the Emperor.

Towards evening on Saint Liborius’ day,--[July 23rd.]--my lord the Duke

came forth on horseback to the forest lodge, and as I write, I can

see the beaming countenance of Junker Henning as he greeted Ann; she,

however, took his devoted demeanor coolly and courteously, yet could

she not hinder him from coming between her and the other gentlemen in

an over-marked way. The company was a large one for us two maidens,

and there was none other with us save Elsa Ebner, our best-beloved

schoolmate, and on her young Master Jorg Loffelholz had cast his eyes.

Not long after dinner Akusch came to me with the tidings that Herdegen

had ridden into Nuremberg yestereve. My grand-uncle, to whom he had sent

word of his coming, had gone forth to meet him on the way, and, with him

Jost Tetzel and his daughter Ursula. My brother had alighted at the Im

Hoff’s house, and had waited on Cousin Maud this morning early. In the

afternoon it was his intent to come out to the forest with my uncle’s

leave, to see me.

When I repeated all this to Aunt Jacoba, she was mightily disturbed and

bid me stand by Ann, and in all points obey the counsel she might find

it good to give her. She desired I would fetch my friend to her July

23rd. forthwith, and then made a plan for all the young folks to go

forth to the fair garden of a certain bee-keeper, one Martein, where

flowers grew in great abundance, and where we might wind the wreaths

which Uncle Christian would need to grace the Empress’ chambers withal.

Thither, quoth she, would she send Herdegen on his coming; for she knew

full well that the tidings brought by Akusch could not remain hid.

Whereas Ann turned a little paler, my aunt shook her head in

displeasure, and admonished her to remain calm; albeit she had charges

to bring against that wild youth, yet, for the present, she must keep

them to herself. Least of all was she to let him suppose that his

faithlessness had caused her any bitter heart-ache; if she desired that

matters end rightly she must command herself to receive the home-comer

no more than kindly, and to demean her as though his denying of her had

touched her but lightly; nay, as though it were a pleasure to her vanity

to be courted by the Brandenburg Junker and other noble gentlemen. If

she could but seem to rate him as less than either of them, she would

have won a great part of the victory.

Such subtlety had no charm for Ann; howbeit, my aunt gave no place

to her doubting, and once more her urgent eloquence prevailed on the

sorrowing maid to govern the yearning of her soul; and when I promised

my friend to support her, she gave the wise lady, who had shown her such

plain proofs of her devoted friendship, her word that she would in every

point obey her.

Many a time have we seen, in the churches of Nuremberg, certain acting

of plays wherein right honest and worthy persons have appeared as Judas

Iscariot, or even as the very Devil himself; and at Venice likewise

have I seen such plays, called there Boinbaria, wherein men and women,

innocent of all guilt, were made to stand for Calumny, Cruelty, and

Craft; and that so cunningly that a man might swear that they were

reprobate Knaves full ripe for the gallows. From this it may be seen

that men are fit and able to seem other than they are by nature; nay,

such feigning is a pleasure to most folks, as we plainly see from the

delight taken by great and small alike in mummery at Carnival tide.

Howbeit, they can scarce have their heart in such sport; and for my

part, meseemeth that to play such a part as my aunt had set before Ann

is one of the hardest that can be laid upon a pure-hearted and truthful

maid. At the time I wist not clearly what was the end of such rash

trifling; but now, when I know men better, meseems it was well

conceived, and could not fail of its intent, albeit the course of events

made it plain to my understanding how little the thoughts and plans of

the wisest can avail when Heaven rules otherwise.

The gentlemen in the hall were more than ready to agree to our bidding;

yet none but I could guess what made Ann’s lip to quiver from time to

time, while her gay spirit charmed the young men who bore us company

through the woods to the beekeeper’s garden.

I and Elsa cut the flowers helped by Jorg Loffelholz, while Ann sat

under a shady lime-tree hard by an arbor of honeysuckle, and showed the

others, who lay on the grass about her; how to wind a garland. Each one

was ready to be taught by lips so sweet, and in guiding of fingers and

words of praise or blame, there was right merry laughing and chatter and

pastime.

Junker Henning lay at her feet, and near him my Hans’ brother Paulus,

and young Master Holzschuher. The Knight von Eberstein had fetched him

a stool out from the beekeeper’s house, and twisted and tied with great

zeal; the Italian Conte, Fagio di Puppi, struck the mandoline, which

he called “the lady of his heart” from whom he never parted even on the

longest journey.

When Elsa and I had flowers enough, we sat down with the others, and it

was pleasant there to rest in the shade of the lime-tree, whose leaves

fluttered in a soft air, while bees and butterflies hovered above the

flowers in the warm sunshine. The birds sang no more; they had finished

nesting long ago; but we, with our young hearts overfull of love, were

in the right mind for song, and when Puppi had charmed us with a sweet

Italian lay, and I had decked his lute with a rose as a guerdon, my lord

of Eberstein took example from him, and they then besought Ann and me to

do our part; but Junker Henning was the more eager. Whereupon Ann smiled

on him so graciously that I was in pain for him, and she signed to me,

and, I taking the lower part as was our wont, we gave Prince Wizlav’s

“Song to Dame Love.” It rang out right loud and clear from our throats

over the gentlemen’s heads as they sat at our feet, and through the

garden close:

“Earth is set free and flowers

In all the meads are springing,

The balmy noontide hours

Are sweet with odors rare;

The hills for joy are leaping.

The happy birds are singing,

And now, while winds are sleeping,

Soar through the sunny air.

Now hearts begin to kindle

And burn with love’s sweet anguish

As tapers blaze and dwindle.

Love, our lady! lend thine ear!

Would’st thou but spoil our pleasure?

Ah, leave us not to languish!

Who vows to thee his treasure,

Haughty lady, must beware.”

We had sung so much as this when the sound of hoofs, of which we had

already been aware on the soft soil of the woods, gave us pause. Then,

behold! Ann turned pale and pressed her hands, full of the roses she had

chosen for her garland, tightly to her bosom, as though in pain.

Junker Henning, who, while she sang, had gazed at her devoutly, nay, in

rapture, marked this gesture and leaped to his feet to succour her;

but she commanded herself with wonderful readiness, and laughed as she

showed him her finger, from which two drops of blood had fallen on her

white gown. And while the garden-gate was opening, she held out her hand

to the young man, saying in haste: “Pricked,--a thorn!--would you please

to take it out for me, Junker?”

He seized her hand and held it long in his own, as some jewel or marvel,

before he remembered that he was required to take out the thorn. The

other gentle men, and among them my brother-in-law Paulus, had likewise

sprung forward to lend their aid; he, indeed, had snatched his lace

neck-tie off and dipped it in the fountain.

Meanwhile the new-comers had joined the circle: First, Duke Rumpold,

then Jost Tetzel, and lastly Herdegen with Ursula.

I flew to meet him, and when he held me in his arms and kissed me,

and wished me joy of my betrothal right heartily, I forgot all old

grievances and only rejoiced at having him home once more; till Ursula

greeted me, and Herdegen came in sight of Ann. She had remained sitting

under the lime-tree, on a saddle cushion of blue velvet, as on a throne;

and in truth meseemed she might have been a queen, as she graciously

accepted the service of the gentlemen who had been so moved by her

pricked finger. The Junker wrapped it with care in a green leaf which,

as his lady grandmother had taught him, had a healing gift; Paulus held

forth the laced kerchief, and the Italian was striking wailing tones

from his lute.

All this to-do, at any other time would, for a certainty, have made

sport for me, but now laughing was far from me, and I had no eyes but

for Ann in her little court, and for my brother.

At first she feigned as though she saw him not; and whereas the Junker

still held her hand, she hit his fingers with a pink, albeit she was

never apt to use such unseemly freedom.

Then she first marked my lord the duke, and rose to greet him with a

courteous reverence, and not till she had bowed coldly and curtly to

Tetzel and his daughter did she seem to be aware that Herdegen was of

the company. At that moment I minded me of the morning when Love had

thrown her into his arms, and it was with pain and wonder that I marked

her further demeanor. In truth it outdid all I could have dreamed of:

she held out her hand with an inviting smile, bid him welcome home and

to the forest, reproved him for staying so long away from me, his dear

little sister, and our good cousin, and then turned her back upon him to

desire the Junker to place her cushions aright. Therewith she gave

this young gentleman her hand to support her to her seat, and asked

him whether, in his country, they did not do service and devoir to the

divine Dame Musica? And whereas he replied that verily they did, that in

his own land he had heard many a sweet ditty sung by noble ladies to the

harp and lute, that the children would ever sing at their sports, and

that he, too, had oftentimes uplifted his voice in singing of madrigals,

she besought him that he would make proof of some ballad or song. The

rest of the company joining in her entreaties she left him no peace

till he gave way to her desire, and after that he had protested that his

singing was no better than the twitter of a starling or a bullfinch, and

his ditty only such as he remembered from his boyhood’s time, he sang

the song “It rained on the bridge and I was wet” in a voice neither loud

nor fine, but purely, and with great modesty.

Ann highly lauded this simple and right childish ditty, and said that

she felt certain that she, by her teaching, could make a fine singer of

the Junker.

The others were of the same opinion, and Herdegen, meanwhile, who was

standing somewhat apart, with Ursula, looked on, marvelling greatly as

though he could not believe what his ear heard and his eye beheld.

Then, inasmuch as my lord duke desired to hear more music made, we were

ready enough to obey and uplifted our voices, while he leaned on an easy

couch, listening diligently, and gave us the guerdon of his gracious

praise.

Still, as heretofore, many were obedient to Ann’s lightest sign, but

never till now had I seen her proud of her power and so eager to use it.

Now and again she would turn to Herdegen with some light word and a free

demeanor, yet he, it was plain, would not vouchsafe to take his seat

before her with the rest.

Nay, meseemed that he and Ursula had no part with us; inasmuch as that

she was arrayed in velvet and rich brocade, and a bower, as it were, of

yellow and purple ostrich plumes curled above her riding-hat.

Herdegen likewise was in brave array, after the fashion of the French,

and a bunch of tall feathers stood up above his head, being held in a

silken fillet that bound his hair. His cross-belt was set with gems and

hung with little bells, tinkling as he moved and jarring with our song;

and in this hot summer-tide it could not have been for his easement that

he wore the tagged lappets, which fell, a hand-breadth deep, from his

shoulders over the sleeves of his velvet tunic.

The more gleefully we sang and the more it was made plain that we, to

all seeming, were only to obey the wishes of Ann and of his highness

the duke, the less could my brother refrain himself to hide his

ill-pleasure; and when presently the Junker besought Ann that she would

sing “Tanderadei,” which she very readily did, Herdegen could bear no

more; he asked the Italian to lend him his mandoline, and struck the

strings as though merely for his own good pleasure. Whereupon Ann turned

to him and courteously entreated him for a song, and he asking her which

song she would have, she hastily replied: “Your old ditties are already

known to me, Junker Schopper; and, to judge by your seeming, you now

take no pleasure save in French music. Let us then hear somewhat of the

latest Paris fashion.”

To this he replied, however: “Here, in my own land, I would like better

to sing in my own tongue, by your gracious leave, fair mistress.”

Then bowing to Ursula and to me, without even casting a glance at Ann,

he went on to say: “And seeing that methinks you love madrigals, I will

sing a Franconian ditty after the Junker’s Brandenburg ballad.”

He boldly struck the strings, and the little birds, which by this time

had gone to rest in the linden-tree, again uplifted their little

heads, and all that had ears and soul, near and far, Ann not the least,

hearkened as he began with his clear voice and noble skill.

“To all this goodly company

I sing as best I may,

A madrigal of ladies fair

And damsels soote and gay.

Through many countries great and small

I roam, and ladies fair I see

Many! but fairest of them all

The maidens of my own countree.

The maidens of Franconia

I ever love to meet,

They dwell in fond remembrance

A vision ever sweet.

Of maids they are the crown and pearl!

And if I might but spin them

I would make the spindle whirl!”

My lord duke clapped hearty praise of the singer, and we all did the

same; all save Junker Henning, who had not failed to mark that Herdegen

had striven to out-do his modest warble, and likewise the ardent eyes

he turned on the lady of his choice. Hence he moved not. Ann clapped her

hands but lightly, sat looking into her lap, and for some time could say

not a word; indeed, if she had trusted herself to speak the game would

of a certainty have been lost.

The knight of Eberstein it was, who ere long, albeit unwittingly, came

to her aid; he challenged Ursula to give us a song in thanks to Junker

Herdegen’s praise of the maids of Franconia.

The damsel thought to do somewhat fine by making choice, instead of a

German song, of a French lay by the Sieur de Machault “J’aim la flour,”

which was well known to all of us by reason that she had learnt it

from old Veit Spiesz, Ann’s grandfather; and she had no need to fear to

uplift her voice, inasmuch as it was strong and as clear as a bell. But

she sang over-loud and with a mode of speech which made Herdegen smile,

and I can see her now as she stood upright in her fine yellow and purple

garb, singing the light-tripping ditty,

“J’aim la flour

De valour

Sans falour

Et l’aour

Nuit et jour.”

with all her might, as though stirring them to battle. The folly of so

wrong-headed a fashion of singing such words was plain to Ann, in whose

very blood, as it were, lay all that was most choice in musical feeling,

and Herdegen’s smile brought her a calmer mind again. When, presently,

Ursula, believing that she had done somewhat marvellous, boldly turned

upon Ann and besought her to sing--as though there had never been a

breach between the twain--Ann refused, as not caring but yet firm in her

mind. Then the Duke, who was even yet a fine singer and bore in mind how

Ursula had demeaned herself towards Ann at the great dance, desired to

have the lute and sang the song as follows:

“Behold a lady sweet and fair

In simple dress,

But right well clothed upon is she

With seemliness.

By her do flowers seem less bright,

And she is such a glorious sight

As, on May morns, the golden sun which lights up hill and lea--

But froward maids delight us not, with all their bravery.”

And he sang the little verse to Ann as though it were in her praise,

till at the last line, which fell from his lips as it were in scorn, he

cast a reproving glance at Ursula, and many an one might see and feel

how well the song befitted one and the other of the hostile damsels.

Yet was it hard to guess what Ursula was thinking of all this; she

thanked the Duke right freely for his fine song which held up the mirror

to all froward ladies. At the same time she looked steadfastly at Ann,

and led both Herdegen and the Knight of Eberstein to talk with herself;

yet how often all the time did my brother cast his eyes at his heart’s

beloved, whom he had betrayed.

As for myself, I can call to mind little enough of all that was said,

for the most part concerning the flowers and trees in the garden. Only

Ann and my brother dwell in my memory, each feigning neither to see nor

to hear the other, while covertly each had not eyes nor ears for any

other. Yes, and I mind me how my brother’s unrest and distress so filled

me now with joy and now with pity, that I longed to cry out to the

Junker that this was a base trick they were playing on him, inasmuch as

Ann poured oil and more oil on the flame of his love.

And there stood old Tetzel and his daughter, and it was plain to see

that they deemed that they had Herdegen safe in their toils; nay,

it seemed likely enough that he had done his uncle’s bidding and was

already betrothed to her. Howbeit this strange lover had up to that

moment cast not one loving look on his lady love.

What should come of it all? How could I ever find peace and comfort in

so perverse a world, and amid this feigning which had turned upside down

all that heretofore had seemed upright? Whichever way I turned there

were things which I did not crave to see, and the saints know full well

that I gazed not round about me; nay, that my eyes were set on two small

specks plain to be seen--the two drops of blood which had fallen from

Ann’s finger, and which were now two dark, round spots on her white

gown; and, as it grew dusk, meseemed they waxed blacker and greater.

At length, to my great joy, my lord the Duke rose and made as though

he were departing; whereupon the false image vanished, and I beheld Ann

giving her hand with a witching smile to Junker Henning, that he might

help her to rise.

Supper was waiting for us at the Forest lodge. My Aunt Jacoba placed the

Duke in the seat of honor at her right hand, with Ann and Junker Henning

next to him. Herdegen she sent to the other end of the table to sit near

his uncle, and Ursula far from him near the middle; to the end that it

might be clearly seen that she knew naught of any alliance between that

damsel and her nephew.

During that meal my squire had little cause to be pleased with his lady.

The foolish sport begun in the garden was yet carried on and I liked it

not, no more than my brother’s French bravery; at table he appeared in a

long red and blue garment of costly silken stuff, with a cord round

the middle instead of a belt, so that it was for all the world like the

loose gown which was worn by our Magister and by many a worthy citizen

when taking his easement in his own home.

Besides all this, my heart was heavy with longing for my own true love,

and my eyes filled with tears a many times, also I thanked the Saints

with all my heart when at length my aunt left the table.

When we were outside she asked me privily whether Ann had rightly played

her part; to which I answered “Only too well.”

Herdegen, also, so soon as he had bid good night to Ursula, led me aside

and desired to know what had come upon Ann. To this I hastily replied

that of a surety he could not care to know, inasmuch as he had broken

troth with her. Thereat he was vexed and answered that as matters

were, so might they remain; but that he was somewhat amazed to mark how

lightly she had got over that which had spoiled many a day and night for

him.

Then I asked him whether he had in truth rather have found her in woe

and grief, and would fain have had her young days saddened for love of

him? He broke in suddenly, declaring that he knew full well that he had

no right to hinder her in any matter, but that one thing he could not

bear, and that was that she, whom he had revered as a saint, should now

demean herself no more nobly nor otherwise than any other maid might. On

this I asked him wherefor he had denied his saint; nay, for the sake--as

it would seem--of a maid who was, for sure, the worldliest of us all.

And, to end, I boldly enquired of him how matters stood betwixt him and

Ursula; but all the answer I got was that first he must know whether Ann

were in earnest with the Junker. On this I said in mockery that he would

do well to seek out the truth of that matter to the very bottom; and

running up the steps by which we were standing, I kissed my hand to him

from the first turning and wished him a good night’s rest.

Up in our chamber I found Ann greatly disturbed.

She, who was commonly so calm, was walking up and down the narrow

space without pause or ceasing; and seeing how sorely her fears and her

conscience were distressing her, pity compelled me to forego my intent

of not giving her any hopes; I revealed to her that I had discovered

that my Herdegen’s heart was yet hers in spite of Ursula.

This comforted her somewhat; but yet could it not restore her peace of

mind. Meseemed that the ruthless work she had done that day had but

now come home to her; she could not refrain herself from tears when

she confessed that Herdegen had privily besought her to grant him brief

speech with her, and that she had brought herself to refuse him.

All this was told in a whisper; only a thin wall of wood parted Ursula’s

chamber from ours. As yet there was no hope of sleep, inasmuch as that

the noise made, by the gentlemen at their carouse came up loud and

clear through the open window and, the later it grew, the louder waxed

Herdegen’s voice and the Junker’s, above all others. And I knew what

hour the clocks must have told when my brother shouted louder than ever

the old chorus:

“Bibit heres, bibit herus

Bibit miles, bibit clerus

Bibit ille, bibit illa

Bibit servus cum ancilla.

Bibit soror, bibit frater

Bibit anus, bibit mater

Bibit ista, bibit ille:

Bibunt centem, bibunt milee.”

[The heir drinks, the owner drinks,

The soldier and the clerk,

He drinks, she drinks,

The servant and the wench.

The sister drinks and eke the brother,

The grand dam and the gaffer,

This one drinks, that one drinks,

A hundred drink--a thousand!]

Nor was this the end. The Latin tongue of this song may peradventure

have roused Junker Henning to make a display of learning on his part,

and in a voice which had won no mellowness from the stout Brandenburg

ale--which is yclept “Death and murder”--or from the fiery Hippocras he

had been drinking he carolled forth the wanton verse:

“Per transivit clericus

[Beneath the greenwood shade;]

Invenit ibi stantent,

[A fair and pleasant maid;]

Salve mi puella,

[Hail thou sweetest she;]

Dico tibi vere

[Thou my love shalt be!]”

The rest of the song was not to be understood whereas Herdegen likewise

sang at the same time, as though he would fain silence the other:

“Fair Lady, oh, my Lady!

I would I were with thee,

But two deep rolling rivers

Flow down ‘twixt thee and me.”

And as Herdegen sang the last lines:

“But time may change, my Lady,

And joy may yet be mine,

And sorrow turn to gladness

My sweetest Elselein!”

I heard the Junker roar out “Annelein;” and thereupon a great tumult,

and my Uncle Conrad’s voice, and then again much turmoil and moving of

benches till all was silence.

Even then sleep visited us not, and that which had been doing below was

as great a distress to me as my fears for my lover. That Ann likewise

never closed an eye is beyond all doubt, for when the riot beneath us

waxed so loud she wailed in grief: “Oh, merciful Virgin!” or “How shall

all this end?” again and again.

Nay, nor did Ursula sleep; and through the boarded wall I could not fail

to hear well-nigh every word of the prayers in which she entreated

her patron saint, beseeching her fervently to grant her to be loved by

Herdegen, whose heart from his youth up had by right been hers alone,

and invoking ruin on the false wench who had dared to rob her of that

treasure.

I was right frightened to hear this and, in truth, for the first time I

felt honest pity for Ursula.

BOOK 2.

CHAPTER I.

The Imperial Diet in Nuremberg!--the Imperial Advent!

The next day their Majesties were to enter into the town, and with them

my Hans.

A messenger had brought the tidings, and now we must use all diligence;

Ann and Elsa and I, with one and twenty more, had been chosen among all

the daughters of the worshipful gentlemen of the council, to go forth to

greet the Emperor and Empress with flowers and a discourse. This Ursula

was to speak, by reason that she was mistress of all such arts; likewise

was she by birth the chiefest of us all, inasmuch as that her late

departed mother was daughter to the great Reynmar, lord of Sulzbach. Nor

need Ann and I seek far for the flowers. The Hallers’ garden had not its

like in all Nuremberg, and my dear parents-in-law had promised that we

should pluck all we needed for our posies.

Or ever I mounted my horse, I had tidings that Herdegen and Junker

Henning had, last evening, come to bitter strife, nay, well-nigh to

bloodshed; for that when my brother had sung the ditty in praise of one

Elselein and the other had called upon him to put in the name of Ann,

Herdegen had cried: “An if you mean red-haired Ann, the tapster wench at

the Blue Pike, well and good!” Whereupon the Junker sprang up and flung

the tankard he had just emptied at Herdegen’s head. Herdegen had nimbly

ducked, and had rushed on the drunken fellow sword in hand; but Duke

Rumpold had put a word in, and by this morning Junker Henning seemed

to have forgotten the matter. In Brandenburg, verily, such frays were

common at the drinking-bouts of the lords and gentlemen, and by dawn all

offence given over-night in their cups was wiped out of mind.

My brother lodged again at our grand-uncle’s, while the Junker dwelt

at the Waldstromer’s townhouse. My Lord Duke found quarters at the

Hallerhof, and his Highness the Prince Elector, and Archbishop Conrad

of Mainz likewise lodged there, with a great following. Cousin Maud had

made ready to welcome the Margrave of Baden and the Count von Henneberg

under our roof. The upper floor of the Pernhart’s house was given up

to his Eminence Cardinal Branda, the most steadfast friend at Rome of

Master Ulman’s brother the bishop. His Holiness the Pope had sent that

right-reverend prelate as his legate to the assembly, and he presently

celebrated mass with great dignity in the presence of their Majesties

and of the assembled lords and princes.

To this day my memory is right good in all ways; and of what followed on

these events much is yet as clear and plain in my mind as though I saw

and heard it all at this present time; albeit I, an old woman, would

fain hide my face in my hands and weep thereat. For, notwithstanding

there were certain hours in those days which brought me sweet

love-making, and others of sheer mirth and vanity, yet is the spirit of

man so tempered that, when great sorrow follows hard on the greatest

joy it sufficeth to darken it wholly. And thus we may liken heaviness

of heart to the chiming of bells, which hurts the ear if they sound over

near, but at a distance make a sweet and devout music. Now, in sooth,

inasmuch as I must make record of the deepest woe of my life, the brazen

toll is a sad one, and the long-healed wounds ache afresh.

Those two months of the Imperial Diet! They lie behind me like distant

hills. I can no more discern them apart, albeit certain landmarks, as

it were, stand forth plainly to be seen, like the church-tower, the

windmill, and the old oak on the ridge on the horizon.

How the night sped after our return from the forest and the morning next

after--the 27th of July in the year of our Lord 1422--I can no longer

call to mind; but I can see myself now as, the afternoon of that day,

I set forth with Ann, attired in silk and lace--all white and new from

head to foot, as it were for a wedding--to go to the open place

between St. James’ Church and the German House, within the Spital Gate.

Whichever way we looked, behold flowers, green garlands, hangings,

pennons, and banners; it was as though all the gardens in Franconia had

been stripped of their blossoms. Never had such a brave show been seen,

and with every breath we drank in the odors of the leaves and flowers

which were already withering in the July sunshine. A finer Saint

Pantaloon’s day I never remember; the very sky seemed to share the

city’s gladness and was fair to see, in spotless blue. A light wind

assuaged the waxing heat, and helped the flags and banners to unfurl:

Our fine churches were decked all over and about with garlands, boughs,

and banners, and meseemed were like happy brides awaiting their marriage

in holiday array. The market-place was a scene of high festival, the

beautiful fountain was a mighty bower of flowers, the triumphal arches,

methought, were such as the gods of wood and garden might have joined

to raise. Every balcony was richly hung, and even the crested gables

and the turrets on the roofs displayed some bravery. All, so far as

eye could see, was motley-hued and spick and span for brightness. The

tiniest pane in the topmost dormer-window glittered without a spot. The

poorest were clad in costly finery; the patrician folk were in the dress

of knights and nobles; every craftsman was arrayed as though he were a

councillor, every squire like his lord. You would have weened that day

that there were none but rich folk in Nuremberg. The maidens’ pearl

chaplets gleamed in the sun, and the golden jewels in their fur bonnets;

and what did their mothers care for the heat as they went to and fro to

display the costly fur turbans which crowned their heads as it were with

a glory of fur? How carefully had they dressed the little ones! They

were to see the Emperor and Empress with their own eyes, and their

Majesties might even, by good hap, see them!

Presently we saw the procession of the guilds with their devices and

banners; never had they come forth in such goodly bravery. They were to

form in ranks, on each side of the streets and the highway, a long space

outside the gate.

At last it was nigh the hour when their Majesties should arrive. We

maids had all assembled. Albeit we had agreed all to be clad in white,

Ursula had decked her head-gear with Ostrich feathers of rose-pink and

sky-blue; right costly plumes they were, but over many. Now would she

look into her parchment scroll, and for us she had brief words and few.

The nosegay which her servant in scarlet livery bore in his hand was a

mighty fine one; and Akusch and a gardener’s boy presently came up with

the posies culled for Ann and me in the Hallers’ garden. We, and many

another maid, clasped our hands in sheer delight, but Ursula cast a

look on them which might, if it could, have robbed the roses and Eastern

lilies of their sweetness.

The Emperor, it was said, would keep to the hour fixed on; then all the

bells began to ring. I knew them all well, and one I liked best of all;

the Benedicta in Saint Sebalds Church, which had been cast by old Master

Grunewald, Master Pernhart’s closest friend. Their brazen voices stirred

my soul and heart, and presently the cannon in the citadel and on the

wails rattled out a thundering welcome to the Emperor, rending the

summer air. My heart beat higher and faster. But suddenly I meseemed

that all the bravery of the town and the holiday weed of the folks, the

chiming of bells and the roaring of cannon were not meant to do honor to

the Emperor, but only to my one true love who was coming in his train.

All my thoughts and hopes were set on him. And when the town-pipers

struck up with trumpets and kettledrums, bagpipes and horns, when the

far-away muttering and roll of voices swelled to a roaring outcry and

an uproarious shout, when from every mouth at every window the cry rose:

“They are corning!”--yet did I not gaze at their Majesties, to whom the

day and festival belonged, but only sought him who was mine--my own.

There they are! close before us.--The Emperor and his noble wife, Queen

Barbara, the still goodly daughter of the great Hungarian Count of

Cilly.

Aye! and he looks the man to rule six realms; worthy to stand at the

head of the great German nation. He might be known among a thousand

for an Emperor, and the son of an Emperor! How straight he sits in his

saddle, how youthful yet is the fire in his eye, albeit he has past his

fiftieth birthday! High spirit and contentment in his look; and meseems

he has forgotten that he ever summoned the Diet to meet at Ratisbon and

is entering the gates of Nuremberg against his will, by reason that

the Electors and German princes have chosen to assemble there. His wife

likewise is of noble mien, and she rides a white palfrey which, as she

draws rein, strives to turn its pink nostrils to greet the bay horse on

which her lord is mounted.

Yet do my eyes not linger long on the lordly pair; they wander down the

long train of Knights wherein he is coming, though among the last. For

a moment they rest on the stalwart forms of the Hungarian nobles,

all blazing with jewels even to the harness of the steeds; and

glance unheedingly at the Electors and Princes, the Dukes, Counts and

Knights-all in velvet and silk, gold and silver; at the purple and

scarlet of the prelates; at the solemn black with gold chains of the

town councillors; on and beyond all the magnificent train which has come

with his Majesty from Hungary or gone forth to meet him.

Hereupon Ursula steps forth to speak the address; but sooner may a man

hear a cricket in a thunderstorm than a maid’s voice amid that pealing

of bells and shouting and cries of welcome. Meseems verily as though the

fluttering handkerchiefs, the flying pennons, and the caps waved in the

air had found voice; and Ursula turns her head to this side and that as

though seeking help.

Emperor Sigismund signs with his hand, and the two heralds who head the

train uplift their trumpets with rich embroidered banners. A rattling

blast procures silence: in a moment it is as though oil were poured on

a surging sea. Men and guns are hushed; the only sounds to be heard

are the brazen tongue of the bells, the whinnying of a horse, the dull

mutter of men’s voices in the far-off lanes and alleys, and the clear

voice of a young maid.

Ursula made her speech, her voice so loud at the last that it might have

seemed that the honeyed verses were words of reproof. The imperial pair

gave each other a glance expressing surprise rather than pleasure, and

vouchsafed a few words of thanks to the speaker. His Majesty spoke in

German; but in his Bohemian home and Hungarian Kingdom he had caught the

trick of a sharper accent than ours.

A chamberlain now gave the signal, and we maidens all went forth towards

our Sovereign lord and lady. Two and two--Tucher and Schilrstab--Groland

and Stromer; and the sixth couple were Ann and I--Ann as the daughter

of a member of the council--and my godfather it was, besides her sweet

face, who had done most to get her chosen.

Noble youths clad as pages in velvet and silks had received the flowers

offered by the damsels; but as Ann and I stood forth, the Emperor

and Empress looked down on us. I could see that they gazed upon us

graciously, and heard them speak together in a language I knew not; and

Porro, the King’s fool--and I say the King’s, inasmuch as it was not

till later that Sigismund was crowned Emperor at Rome, and by the same

token it was at that time that my Hans’ brothers, Paul and Erhart, were

dubbed Knights--Porro, who rode at his lord’s side on a piebald pony

spotted black and yellow, cried out: “May we all be turned into drones,

Nunkey, if the flowers which have given this town the name of the

Bee-garden are not of the same kith and kin as these!”

And he pointed to us; whereupon the King asked him whether he meant the

damsels or the posies. But the jester, rolling on his nag after a merry

fashion, till the bells in his cap rang again, answered him: “Nay,

Nunkey, would you tempt a Christian to walk on the ice? An if I say the

damsels, I shall get into trouble by reason of your strict morality; but

if I say the posies, I shall peril my poor soul’s health by a foul lie.”

“Then choose thee another shape,” quoth the Queen, “for I fear lest the

bees should take thee for a stinging wasp, Porro.”

“True, by my troth,” said the fool, thinking. “Since Eve fell into sin,

women’s counsel is often the best. You, Nunkey, shall be turned into a

butterfly, and not into a drone, and grace the flowers as you flutter

round them.”

And he waved his arms as they were wings and rode round about us on

his pony with right merry demeanor, like a moth fluttering over us.

Ann looked down, reddening for shame, and the blood rose to my cheeks

likewise for maiden shyness; nevertheless I heard the King’s deep,

outlandish tones, and his noble wife’s pleasant voice, and they lauded

our posies and made enquiry as to our names, and straitly enjoined

Ann and me not to fail of appearing at every dance and banquet; and

I remember that we made answer with seemly modesty till the King’s

grand-master came up and so ended our discourse.

And I fancy I can see the multitude coming on; the motley hues of velvet

and silk, the housings and trappings of the horses, the bright sheen of

polished metal, and the sparkle of cut gems dazzle my eyes, I ween,

to this day. But on a sudden it all fades into dimness; the cries and

voices, the bells, the neighing, the crash and clatter are silent--for

he is come. He waves his hand, more goodly, more truly mine and dearer

to my heart than ever. But not here do we truly meet again; that joy is

to come later in his own garden.

That garden could already tell a tale of two happy human creatures, and

of hours of the purest bliss ever vouchsafed to two young hearts; but

what thereafter befell I remember as bright, hot, summer days, full

of mirth and play-acting, of tourneys and courtly sports, of music and

song, dancing and pleasuring. The gracious favor of the King and Queen

and the presence of many princes ceased not to grace it, and went to our

brain like heady wine. Things that had hitherto seemed impossible now

came true. Out of sheer joy in those intoxicating pleasures, and for the

sake of the manifold demands that came upon us in these over-busy days,

we forgot those nearest and dearest to our hearts. Yet never was I given

to self-seeking, neither before nor since that time.

Ann’s beguiling of the Junker, the homage paid to her by all, even the

highest, Herdegen’s seething ire, his strivings to win back the favor

of the maid he had slighted, his strange and various and high-handed

demeanor, his shameless ways with Ursula, to whom he paid great court

when my grand-uncle was present, albeit at other times he would cast

dark glances at her as if she were a foe--all this glides past me as in

a mist, and concerning me but little. Then, in the midst of this turmoil

and magnificence, this love-making and royal grace, now and again

meseemed I was suddenly alone and forlorn; even at the tourney or dance;

nay, even when the King and Queen would vouchsafe to discourse with

me, I would be filled with longing for peace and silent

hours--notwithstanding that the mighty Sovereign himself took pleasure

in questioning me and moving me to those quick replies whereof I never

found any lack. Queen Barbara would many a time bid me to her chamber,

and keep me with her for hours; sometimes would Ann also be bidden, and

she bestowed on us both many costly jewels.

Then, no sooner had we quitted the castle, where their Majesties lodged,

than we must think of our own noble guests; for Markgraf Bernhard of

Baden, who was quartered on us, would often ask for me, and Cardinal

Branda would desire Ann to attend him. The larger half of our days was

given to arranging our persons, and while Cousin Maud and Susan would

dress me I was already thinking of making ready the weed, the ribbons,

and the feathers needed for the next day. My Hans was now a Knight.

The same honor was promised to Herdegen--honor on honor, pleasure on

pleasure, bravery and display! In the stead of our old sun twenty,

meseemed, were blazing in the heavens. Many a time it was as though

my breath came so lightly that I could float on air, and then again a

nightmare load oppressed me. Even through the night, in my very dreams,

the sounds of music and singing ceased not; but when I awoke the

question would arise: “To what end is this?”

Hans held the helm, and was ever the same, thoughtful yet truly loving.

Also he never forgot to keep a lookout for the surety of the bark, and

if the pace seemed too great, or he saw rocks ahead, he did his part

and likewise guarded me with faithful care from heedless demeanor or

over-weariness. Margery the rash, who was wanted everywhere, and was at

all times in the foremost rank, at the behest of the King and Queen, did

her devoir in all points and nought befell which could hurt or grieve

her--and she knew full well whom she had to thank for that.

Likewise I discerned with joy that my lover kept the Junker’s ardors

in check, for he would fain have courted Ann as hotly as though he were

secure of her love; and Hans called upon my brother Herdegen to quit

himself as a man should and make an end of this double game by choosing

either Ann or Ursula, once for all.

In the forest Uncle Conrad had bidden this noble company to the Lodge.

After the hunt was over we went forth once more to the garden of

Martin the bee-keeper, by reason that Duke Ernest of Austria, and Count

Friedrich of Meissen, and my Lord Bishop of Lausanne, and other of the

noble lords, desired to see somewhat of the far-famed bee-keeping huts

in our Lorenzer-Wald. My uncle himself led the way, and Herdegen helped

him do the honors.

Presently, as he over-hastily opened a hive, some bees stung his hand

badly; I ran to him and drew the stings out. Ann was close by me, and

Herdegen tried to meet her eyes, and sang in a low voice a verse of a

song, which sounded sad indeed and strange, somewhat thus:

“Augustho pirlin pcodyas.”

Whereupon Ann asked of him in what tongue he spoke; for it was not known

to her. He, however, replied that of a certainty it was known to her,

and when she looked at him, doubtful yet, he laughed bitterly and said

that he could but be well-content if she had forgotten the sound of

those words, inasmuch as to him they were bound up with the first great

sorrow he had known.

I saw that she was ill-at-ease; but as she turned away he held her back

to put the words into German, saying, in so dull and low a voice that I

scarce could hear him, while he stirred up the earth with the point of

his sword, purposing to lay some on his swollen hand.

“A froward bee hath stung my hand;

Mother Earth will heal the smart.

But when I lie beneath the turf,

Say, Will she heal my broken heart?”

Then I saw that Ann turned pale as she said somewhat stiffly: “There

are other remedies for you against even the worst!” and he replied: “But

yours, Ann, work the best cure.”

By this time she was herself again, and answered as though she cared

not: “I learnt them from a skilled master.--But in what tongue is your

song, Junker Schopper, and who taught you that?”

To which he hastily answered: “A swarthy wench of gipsy race.”

And she, taking courage, said: “One peradventure whom you erewhile met

in the forest here?” Herdegen shook his curly head, and his eye flashed

lovingly as he spoke: “No, Ann, and by all the Saints it is not so!

It was of a gipsy mother that I learnt it; she sang it to a man in

despair--in despair for your sake, Ann--in the forest of Fontainebleau.”

Whereupon Ann shook her head and strove to speak lightly as she said

“Despair! Are you not like the man in the fable, who deemed that he

was burnt whereas he had thrust another into the fire? The cap fits,

methinks, Junker Schopper.”

He replied sadly, and there was true grief in his voice: “Is a hard jest

all you have to give me now?” quoth he, “Nay, then, tell me plainly,

Ann, if there is no hope for me more.”

“None,” said she, firm and hard. But she forth with added more gently.

“None, Herdegen, none at all so long as a single thread remains unbroken

which binds you to Ursula.”

On this he stepped close up to her and cried in great emotion: “She,

she! Aye, she hath indeed cast her devil’s tangle of gold about me to

ensnare all that is vain and base in me; but she has no more room in

my heart than those bees have. And if you--if my good angel will but be

mine again I will cry ‘apage’--I tear her toils asunder.”

He ceased, for certain ladies and gentlemen came nigh, and foremost

of them Ursula; aye, and I can see her now drawing off her glove and

stooping to gather up some earth to lay on the burning hand of the man

whom in truth she loved, while he strove to forestall her and not to

accept such service. That night we stayed at the lodge, and Ursula again

had the chamber next to ours; and again I heard her appealing to her

Saints, while Ann poured out to me her overflowing heart in a low

whisper, and confessed to me, now crying and now laughing, how much she

had endured, and how that she was beginning to hope once more.

CHAPTER II.

Our grand-uncle and guardian, the old knight Im Hoff, had ever, so

long as I could remember, demeaned himself as a penitent, spending his

nights, and not sleeping much, in a coffin, and giving the lion’s share

of his great revenues to pious works to open unto himself the gates of

Heaven; but what a change was wrought in him by the Emperor’s coming!

This straight-backed and stiff necked man, who had never bowed his head

save only in church and before the holy images of the saints, learnt now

to stoop and bend. His bloodless face, which had long ceased to smile,

was now the very home of smiles. His great house was filled, for there

lodged Duke Ernst of Austria, the Hungarian Count of Gara--who through

his wife was near of kin to the Emperor, and his Majesty’s trusty

secretary, Kaspar Slick, and all their people. And so soon as either of

these came, a gleam as of starlight lighted up his old features, or, if

it fell that the sovereign granted to him to attend him, it was broad

sunshine that illumined it. And whereas the other gentlemen of the

council, hereditary and elected, albeit they were ever ready to shake

hands with a common workman, would stand face to face with their

Majesties or the dukes and notables, upright and duly mindful of their

own worth, my guardian would cast off his gravity and dignity both

together; and verily we all knew full well to what end. He, who had been

defrauded of his life’s happiness by a Baron’s daughter, yearned to

move the King to raise him to the rank of Baron. He loaded the Secretary

Slick with gifts and favors, and seeing that his Majesty was graciously

pleased to smile on me, his ward, he would be at much pains to flatter

me, calling me his “golden hair” or “Blue-eyes;” and enjoin it on me

that I should make mention of him to the King as his Majesty’s most

faithful servant, ever ready for any sacrifice in his service, at the

same time he asked with a grin how it would pleasure me to hear Herdegen

called by the name and title of Baron von Schopper-Im Hoff?

Our own honest and honorable name I weened was good enough for us three;

yet, for my brother’s sake and for Ann’s, I held my peace, and took

occasion while he was in so friendly a mood to urge him to release

Herdegen, and grant him to choose another than Ursula. But how wroth he

waxed, how hastily he put on the icy, forbidding bearing he was wont to

wear, as he rated me for a wilful simpleton who would undo her brother’s

weal!

It was now St. Susannah’s day--[August 11th]--We were bidden to the

tourney. Duke Ernest of Austria had challenged Duke Kanthner of Oels in

Silesia to meet him in the lists and, besides the glory to be gained,

there was a prize of sixty and four gold pieces. Other knights also were

to joust in the ring.

Queen Barbara, of her grace, had bidden me attend with her ladies.

At the jousting-place I found Ann; her mother had remained at home

by reason that the old mother was sick. My faithful Uncle Christian

Pfinzing, who played the host to the Emperor and Empress at the Castle

as representing the town council, had brought his “dear watchman” hither

and placed her in the keeping of certain motherly dames. Presently,

seeing a moment when she might speak with me, Ann said in my ear: “I

will end this sport, Margery; I can no longer endure it. He hath sworn

to renounce all and everything that may keep us apart!” There was no

time for more. Each one had to take his seat. As yet their Majesties

were not come, and there was time to gaze about.

The lists were in the midst of the market-place. The benches were

decked with hangings, the lords and ladies who filled them, the feathers

waving, the sparkle of jewels, the glitter of gold and silver, the sheen

of silk and velvet, the throng of common folk, head over head in the

topmost places, the music and uproar, nay, the very savor of the

horses dwell still in my mind; yet far be it from me to write of things

well-known to most men.

Then my grand-uncle came forth. He had Ursula on his arm as he walked

through the gate-way into the lists and across the sanded ring to his

seat on the far side. This was in truth forbidden, but the unabashed old

man defied the rules, and as for Ursula she was well pleased to be gazed

at. The old knight was smiling; how stately was his mien, and how well

the silver breast plate beseemed him, with the golden lion rampant

of the Im Hoffs! That helmet and breastplate had been forged for his

special use of the finest silver and gold plate, and were better fit to

turn the point of my pen-knife than that of sword and lance. Yet many an

one admired the stalwart gait of the old man in his heavy harness.

Even Tetzel’s dull face was less dull than its wont, and Ursula’s eyes

sparkled as though her knight had carried off the prize.

Presently my grand-uncle saw where I was sitting, and waved and bowed to

me as though he had some good tidings to give me. Tetzel did likewise,

seeming like the old man’s pale and creeping shadow. Ursula’s triumphing

eyes proclaimed that now she had indeed gained her end; the dullest wit

might not miss her meaning. In spite of Ann, Herdegen had pledged his

troth to Ursula. The lists and seats, meseemed, whirled round me in a

maze, and scarce had they settled down again, as it were, when Cousin

Maud sat down heavily in her place, and by her face made me aware that

some great thing had befallen; for now and again she drew in her cheeks

and pursed her lips as though she would fain blow out a light. When my

eyes met hers she privily pointed with her fan to show me Herdegen and

Ursula, and shrugged her shoulders so high that her big head with its

great feathered turban sank between them. And if there was surging and

wrath in her breast not less was there in mine. Howbeit I had to put on

a guise of content, nay of gladness, for the Royal pair had bidden me to

their side and it was my task to explain all they desired to learn.

A sunny blue sky bent over the ground; albeit dark clouds came up from

the west, and I found it hard to make fitting answer to their Majesties’

questions.

While the horses were pawing and neighing, and the lances rattled on

the shields, nay, even when the Dukes of Austria and Schleswig rushed

on each other and the Austrian unhorsed his foe, I scarce looked on

the jousting-place on which all other eyes were fixed as though held by

chains and bonds. Mine were set on the spot where Ursula and Ann were

sitting, and with them the young knight from Brandenburg, Sir Apitz of

Rochow, and my brother Herdegen. Junker Henning had his part to play

in the tournament. To Rochow the tourney was all in all; Herdegen gazed

only at Ann. She, to be sure, made no return, but still he would fix his

eyes on her and speak with her. Ursula had turned paler, and meseemed

she had eyes only for him and his doings. What went forward in the

pauses of the tilting I could not mark, inasmuch as my eyes and ears

were their Majesties’ alone.

Now, two more knights sprang forth. What cared I of what nation they

were, what arms they bore and what they and their horses might do; I had

somewhat else to think of. Ursula and I had long been at war, but to-day

I felt nought but compassion for her: and indeed, on this very day, when

she believed she had won the victory, she more needed pity than when

she had so besought Heaven to grant her Herdegen’s love, inasmuch as

my brother sat whispering to Ann with his hand on his heart. And Ann

herself had put away all false seeming; and while she gazed into her

lover’s eyes with soft passion, Ursula sat bending her fan as though she

purposed to break it.

To think of Ursula as ruling in our house, and of Ann pining with heart

sickness was cruel grief, and yet were these two things almost less

hard to endure than the shameless flightiness and strange demeanor of my

noble brother, the pride of my heart.

The town council had voted eight hundred gulden to King Sigismund, and

four hundred to the Queen; two hundred and thirty to Porro the jester,

and great gifts to many of the notables and knights as a free offering

from the city; and now, in a pause in the jousting, his Majesty

announced his great delight at the faithful, bountiful, and overflowing

hand held out to him by his good town of Nuremberg, which had ever been

dear to his late beloved father King Charles. And then he pointed to the

gentlemen of the council, who made a goodly and reverend show indeed

in their long flowing hair and beards, their dark velvet robes bordered

with fine fur, and thin gold chains; and he spoke of their noble and

honorable dealing. I heard him say that each one of them was to be

respected as joint ruler with him over that which was his own, and

likewise in greater matters. Each one was his equal in manly virtue, and

the worthy peer of his Imperial self. Then he pointed out to the

Queen certain noble and goodly heads, and it was my part to make known

whatsoever I could tell of their possessions and their manner of trade.

The Hallers were well known to him, and not alone my best beloved,

inasmuch as they did great trading with his kingdom of Hungary; and he

was well pleased to see my Hans with his father as one of the council.

His gracious wife was pleased to compare the good order, and cleanness,

and comfort of Nuremberg with the cities in their native country.

Whereas she had already been into some of our best houses, and indeed

into our own, she spoke well of the wealth, and art, and skill in all

crafts of the Nuremberg folk, saying they had not their like in all the

world so far as she knew. And then again she spoke her pleasure at the

honorable seemliness of the councillors, and asked me many questions

concerning this one and that, and, among the rest, concerning Master

Ulman Pernhart. The royal pair marked, in one his noble brow, in

another his long flowing hair, in a third his keen and shrewd eye, till

presently King Sigismund asked his Fool, Porro, which of all the heads

in the ranks opposite he might judge to be the wisest and weightiest.

The jester’s twinkling eyes looked along the rows of folk, and whereas

they suddenly fell on little Dame Henneleinlein, the Honey-wife, who

sat, as was her wont, with her head propped on her hands, he took the

King’s word up and answered in mock earnest: “Unless I am deceived it is

that butter-cup queen, Nuncle, seeing that her head is so heavy that she

is fain to hold it up with both hands.”

And he pointed with his bauble to the old woman, who, as the

bee-master’s widow, had boldly thrust herself into the front rank with

those of knight’s degree; and there she sat, in a gown of bright yellow

brocade which Cousin Maud had once given her, stretching her long neck

and resting her head on her hands. The King and Queen, looking whither

the Fool pointed, when they beheld a little old woman instead of a

stately councillor, laughed aloud; but the jester bowed right humbly

towards the dame, and, she, so soon as she marked that the eyes of his

Majesty and his gracious lady were turned upon her, and that her paltry

person was the object of their regard, fancied that I had peradventure

named her as being Ann’s cousin, or as the widow of the deceased

bee-master who, long years ago, had led the Emperor Charles to see the

bee-gardens, so she made reverence again and again, and meanwhile laid

her head more and more on one side, ever leaning more heavily on her

hand, till the King and Queen laughed louder than ever and many an

one perceived what was doing. The cup-bearer and chamberlain drew long

faces, and Porro at last ended the jest by greeting the old woman with

such dumbshow as no one could think an honor. The cunning little woman

saw now that she was being made game of, and whereas not their Majesties

alone, but all the Court about them were holding their sides, and she

saw that I was in their midst, she believed me to be at the bottom of

their mischief, and cast at me such vengeful glances as warned me of

evil in store.

After this tourney there was to be a grand dance in the School of Arms,

to which their Majesties were bidden with all the princes, knights, and

notables of the Diet, and the patricians of the town. Next day, being

Saint Clara’s day, there would be a great feast at the Tetzels’ house by

reason that it was the name-day of Dame Clara, Ursula’s grandmother, and

the eldest of their kin. At this banquet Herdegen’s betrothal was to be

announced to all their friends and kindred--this my uncle whispered to

me as he went off after the jousting to attend the King, who had sent

for him. The old man had seen nought of Herdegen’s doings with Ann, by

reason that he and old Tetzel had both been seated on the same side of

the lists, and the tall helmets and feathers had hidden the young folks

from his sight. So assurance and contentment even yet beamed in his eye.

The tourney had lasted a long time. I scarce had time enough to change

my weed for the dance. Till this day I had sported like a fish in this

torrent of turmoil and pleasure; but to-day I was weary. My body was in

pain with my spirit, and I would fain have staid at home; but I minded

me of the Queen who, albeit she was so much older, and was watched by

all--every one expecting that she should be gracious--in her heavy royal

array, went through all this of which I was so weary.

Meanwhile a great storm had burst upon us and passed over; all creatures

were refreshed, and I likewise uplifted my head and breathed more

freely. The fencing school--a great square chamber, as it is to this

day, with places all round for the folk to look on--was lighted up as

bright as day. My lover and I, now in right good heart once more, paced

through the Polish dance led by the King and Queen. Ann’s mother had

been compelled to stay at home, to tend the master’s old mother, and my

friend had come under Cousin Maud’s protection. She was led out to dance

by Junker Henning; his fellow country-man, Sir Apitz von Rochow, walked

with Ursula and courted her with unfailing ardor. Franz von Welemisl,

who was wont to creep like her shadow, and who was again a guest at the

Tetzels’ house, had been kept within doors by the cough that plagued

him. Likewise I looked in vain for Herdegen.

The first dance indeed was ended when he came in with my great-uncle;

but the old knight looked less confidently than he had done in the

morning.

Ann was pale, but, meseemed fairer than ever in a dress of

pomegranate-red and white brocade, sent to her from Italy by her

step-father’s brother, My lord Bishop, by the hand of Cardinal Branda.

As soon as I had presently begun to speak with her, she was carried off

by Junker Henning, and at that same moment my grand-uncle came towards

me to ask who was that fair damsel of such noble beauty with whom I was

but now speaking. He had never till now beheld Ann close at hand, and

how gladly did I reply that this was the daughter of Pernhart the town

Councillor and she to whom Herdegen had plighted his faith.

The old man was startled and full wroth yet, by reason of all the

fine folk about us, he was bound to refrain himself, and he presently

departed.

The festival went forward and I saw that Herdegen danced first with

Ursula and then with Ann. Then they stood still near the flower shrubs

which were placed round about the hall to garnish it, and it might have

been weened from their demeanor that they had quarrelled and had come

to high words. I would fain have gone to them, but the Queen had bid me

stay with her and never ceased asking me a hundred questions as to names

and other matters.

At last, or ever it was midnight, their Majesties departed. I breathed

more freely, put my hand on my Hans’ arm, and was minded to bid him

take me to Herdegen and speak out my mind, but my brother, as it fell,

prevented me. He came up to me and with what a mien! His eyes flashing,

his cheeks burning, his lips tight-set. He signed to me and Hans to

follow whither he went, and then passionately besought us that we would

depart from the dance for a while with him and his sweetheart, that was

Ann. Such an entreaty amazed us greatly, yet, when he told us that she

would go no whither with him save under our care, and that everything

depended on his learning this very hour how he stood with her, we did

his will. And he likewise told us that he had not indeed given his word

that morning to my grand-uncle and Jost Tetzel, but had only pledged his

word that he would give them his answer next day.

So presently Hans and I stole out behind the pair, out into the road.

I, for my part, was well content and thankful and, when we beheld them

accuse and answer each other right doughtily, we laughed, and were

agreed that Aunt Jacoba’s counsel had led to a good issue; and I told my

Hans that I should myself take a lesson from all this and let the smart

Junkers and Knights make love to me to their hearts’ content, if ever I

should be moved to play him a right foolish trick.

Presently, when we had many times paced the road to and fro the

Pernharts’ house, Ann was minded to knock at the door; but behold she

was saved the pains. Mistress Henneleinlein just then came out whereas

she had been helping Dame Giovanna to tend the sick grandmother. The

lantern Eppelein carried in front of us was not so bright as the sun,

yet could I see full plainly the old woman’s venomous eye; and what high

dudgeon sounded in her voice! Each one had his meed, even my Hans, to

whom she cried: “Keep thy bride out of Porro’s way, Master Haller. It

ill-beseems the promised wife of a worshipful Councillor to be casting

her lot in with a Fool! Howbeit, to laugh is better than to weep, and

he laughs longest who laughs last!” And thereupon she herself laughed

loudly and, with a scornful nod to Ann, turned her back on us.

All was still in Master Pernharts’ house; he himself had gone to rest.

At Herdegen’s bidding we followed him into the hall, and there he

clasped Ann to his heart, and declared to us that now, and henceforth

for ever, they were one. Whereupon we each and all embraced; but my

friend clung longest to me, and whispered in my ear that she was happier

than ever she could deserve to be. Herdegen asked me whether now he had

made all right, and whether I would be the same old Margery again? And I

right gladly put up my lips for his to kiss; and the returned prodigal,

who had come back to that which was his best portion, was like one drunk

with wine. He was beside himself with joy, so that he clasped first me

and then Hans in his arms, and slapped Eppelein, who carried a lantern

to show us the pools left by the storm of rain, again and again on the

shoulder, and thrust a purse full of money into his free hand, albeit

there was an end now of my grand-uncle’s golden bounty. Nought would

persuade him to go back to the dancing-hall, to meet Ursula and her kin;

and when he presently departed from us we heard him along the street,

singing such a love song as no false heart may imagine, as glad as the

larks which would now ere long be soaring to the sky.

We got back to the great hall. The dancing and music were yet at their

height; our absence we deemed had scarce been marked; howbeit, as soon

as we entered, my grand-uncle made enquiry “where Herdegen might be,”

and when I looked about me at haphazard I beheld--my eyes did not cheat

me--I beheld Mistress Henneleinlein in one of the side-stalls.

No man told me, yet was I sure and certain that she was saying somewhat

which concerned me, and presently I discerned in the dim back-ground the

feathered plume which Ursula had worn at the dance. My heart beat with

fears; every word spoken by the old Dame would of a surety do us a

mischief. Hans mocked at my alarms and at a maid’s folly in ever taking

to herself matters which concern her not.

Then Ursula came forth into the hall again, and how she swept past us on

Junker Henning’s arm.

A young knight of the Palatinate now led me out to a dance I had

erewhile promised him.

We stopped for lack of breath. The festival was over; yet did Ursula

and the Junker walk together. He was hearkening eagerly to all she might

say, and on a sudden he clapped his hand into hers which she held out to

him, and his eyes, which he had held set on the floor, fired up with a

flash. Presently he and the Knight von Rochow made their way, arm in

arm through the press, and both were laughing and pulling their long red

beards.

I still clung to my lover’s arm and entreated him to take me to speak

with Junker Henning, inasmuch as I sorely wanted to question him; but

the Junker diligently kept far from us. Nevertheless we at last stayed

him, and after that I had enquired, as it were in jest, whether he

had healed his old feud with Mistress Ursula and concluded a truce, or

peradventure made peace with her, he answered me, in a tone all unlike

his wonted frank and glad manner, that this for a while must remain

privy to him and her, and that we should scarce be the first to whom

he should reveal the matter; and forthwith he bid us farewell with a

courtly reverence. But my lover would not let him thus depart, and

asked him, calmly, what was the interpretation of this speech, whereupon

Rochow spoke for his young fellow-countryman, and enquired, in the

high-handed and lordly tone which ever marked his voice and manner,

whether here, in the native land of Nuremberg playthings, love and faith

were accounted of as toys.

Junker Henning however, broke in, and said, casting a warning look at

me: “Far be it from him to break friendship with an honorable gentleman,

such as my Hans, before having an explanation.” And he held out his hand

somewhat more readily than before, bowed sweetly to me and led away his

cousin.

At last we got out with the Haller parents and Cousin Maud. The old

folks got into litters, and the serving men were lighting the way before

me to mine, when my lover stayed me, saying: “It is already grey in the

East. Never before were we together so well betimes, Margery, and happy

hours are few. If thou’rt not too weary, let us walk home together in

this fresh morning air.”

I was right well-content and we went gently forward, I clinging to him

closely. He felt how high my heart was beating and, when he asked me

whether it was for love that it beat so fast, I confessed in truth that,

whereas the Brandenburgers outdid all other knights in the kingdom, in

defiance and hotheadedness, I feared lest there should be a passage

of arms betwixt Junker Henning and my brother Herdegen. But Hans made

answer that, if it were the Brandenburgers intent to challenge him, he

could not hinder it; yet be trowed it would be to their own damage; that

Herdegen had scarce found his match at the Paris school of arms; and at

least should we not mar this sweet morning walk by such fears.

And he held me closer to him, and while we slowly wandered on he poured

forth his whole heart to me, and confessed that through all his lonely

life in foreign lands he had ever lacked a great matter; that even with

the gayety of his favorite comrades, even when his best diligence had

been crowned with great issues, yet had he never had full joy in life.

Nor was it till my love had made him a complete and truly happy man that

he had felt, as it were, whole, inasmuch as that alone had stilled the

strange craving which till then had made his heart sick.

Yea, and I could tell him that it had been the same with me; and as for

what more we said, verily it should rather have been sung to sweet and

lofty music on the lute and mandoline. Two rightly matched souls stood

revealed each to each, and Heaven itself, meseemed, was opened in the

strait ways of our town.

We kissed as we stood on the threshold of the Schopper-house, and when

at length we must need part he held me once more to his heart, longer

than ever he had before, and tore himself away; and laying his hands on

my shoulders, as he looked into my eyes in the pale light of dawn, he

said: “Come what may, Margery, we love each other truly and have learned

through each other what true happiness means; and nevertheless we are

as yet but in the March-moon of our love, and its May days, which are

sweeter far, are yet to come. But even the March-joy is good--right good

to me.”

CHAPTER III.

I had forgotten my fears and gloomy forebodings by the time I climbed

into bed in my darkened chamber. Sleep forthwith closed my eyes, and

I lay without even a dream till Cousin Maud waked me. I turned over by

reason that I was still heavy with slumber; yet she stood by my bed, and

scarce half a quarter of an hour after, lo, again I felt her hand on

my shoulder and woke up quaking, with a cold sweat on my brow. I had

dreamed that I was riding out in the Lorenzer-wald with Hans and my

grand-uncle and other some; but we went slowly and softly, by reason

that all our horses fell lame. And it fell that on the very spot where

Ann had flown into Herdegen’s arms I beheld a high, yellow grave-stone,

and on it was written in great black letters: “HANS HALLER.”

Hereupon I had started up with a loud cry, and it was long or ever my

brain was clear as to the world about me. Cousin Maud laughed to see

me so drunk asleep, as was not my wont; yet could she not deny that my

dream boded no good. Nevertheless, quoth she, it was small marvel that

such a heathen Turkish turmoil as we had been living in should beget

monstrous fancies in a young maid’s brain. She would of set purpose have

left me to sleep the day through, to give me strength; howbeit Herdegen

had twice come to ask for me, and so likewise had Ann and Hans, and it

wanted but an hour and a half of noon. This made me laugh; nevertheless

I minded me then and there of all that had befallen last night at

Pernhart’s house-door and in the school of arms, and, moreover, that we

were bidden this day to eat with the Tetzels; also that they, and eke

my grand-uncle, were still in the belief that Herdegen’s betrothal to

Ursula might be at once proclaimed to their friends.

I began to dress in haste and fear, and Susan was in the act of plaiting

my hair when Cousin Maud flew in to say that Queen Barbara had sent her

own litter to carry me to her. Thus had I to make all speed.

The royal quarters in the castle had been newly ordered by the town at

his Majesty’s desire, and they were indeed bravely decked; yet never

had the like show pleased me less. The Queen was giving audience to the

Pope’s Legate, to their excellencies the envoys from the Greek Emperor,

to my Lord Conrad the Elector of Maintz, and many more nobles. She had

made so bold as to declare that the German maidens were no less skilled

in the art of song than the damsels of Italy, and had bidden me to her

in such hot haste that I might let the notables there assembled hear

a few lays. I might not say nay to the royal behest; for better, for

worse, I must fain take my lute and sing, at first alone, and then with

my lord Conte di Puppi. Our voices presently brought the King to the

chamber, and in truth I won praise enough if I had best cared to hear

it. Nay, for the first time it was a torment to me to sing, and when the

notables had all been sent forth, and I was alone with the Queen and her

ladies, I knew not what ailed me but I burst into tears, hot and bitter

tears. The gracious Queen took me in her arms with womanly sweetness,

but while she gave me her phial of vinegar to smell, and spoke words of

comfort, I was suddenly scared at hearing close behind me right woeful

sobbing and sighing, as from a woman’s breast. I looked about me,

and beheld Porro, the jester, who had cast himself on a couch and was

mocking me, pulling such a grimace the while that his smooth, long,

thin face seemed grown to the length of two lean faces. The sight was so

merry that I was fain to laugh. Whereas he nevertheless ceased not from

sobbing, the Queen reproved him and bid him not carry his fooling too

far. Whereupon he sobbed out: “Nay, royal and gracious Coz, thou art in

error. Never have I so shamelessly forgotten to play my part as Fool, as

at this moment. Alack, alack! what a thing is life! Were we not one and

all born fools, and if we did but measure it as it is now and ever

shall be, with the wisdom of the sage, we should never cease to bewail

ourselves, from the nurse’s rod to the scythe of death.”

Whether Porro were in earnest I could not divine; his face, like a

mystic oracle, might bear manifold interpretations; verily his speech

went to my heart. And albeit hitherto life had brought me an hundredfold

more reasons for thanksgiving than sorrow, meseemed that it had many

griefs in store. The Queen indeed replied full solemnly: “Peradventure

it is true. Yet forget not that it is not as Sage that you attend

us.--Moreover I, as a good Hungarian, know my Latin, and the great

Horatius Flaccus puts your dismal lore to shame; albeit, as a Christian

woman, I am fain to confess that it is wiser and more praiseworthy to

bewail our own sins and the sins of the world, and to meditate on the

life to come, than to live only for present joys. As for thee, sweet

maid, for a long time yet thou may’st take pleasure in the flowers, even

though venom may be hidden in their cups.”

“Men are not wont to eat them,” replied the fool. “And I have often

marvelled wherefor the flighty butterfly wears such gay and painted

wings, while every creature that creeps and grubs is grey or brown and

foul to behold.”

Whereupon he burst into loud laughter and such boisterous mirth that we

fairly wept for merriment, and my lady Queen bid him hold his peace.

On my departing I had need to pass through the King’s audience-chamber.

He was bidding my Hans depart right graciously, and I went forth into

the castle yard with Masters Tucher, Stromer, and Schurstab, all members

of the Council. I fancy I hear them now thanking Hans for his fearless

manfulness in saying to his Majesty that the treasure-chest must ever

be empty if the old disorder were suffered to prevail. Likewise they

approved the well-devised plan which he had proposed for the bettering

of such matters, and my heart beat high with pride as I perceived the

great esteem in which the worshipful elders of our town held their

younger fellow.

Hans might not part company from them; but when I got into the litter

he whispered to me: “Be not afraid--as to Herdegen and the Junker--you

know. Farewell till we meet at the Tetzels’.”

When I came home I learnt that my brother, and Ann, and then Eppelein

had come to ask for me; now must I change my attire for the feast, and

my heart beat heavy in my bosom. The bold Brandenburger and my brother

were perchance at this very hour crossing swords.

Cousin Maud, who now knew all, and I stepped out of our litters at

the Tetzels’ door. Eppelein was standing by the great gate, booted and

spurred, holding two horses by their bridles. My lord who spoke with him

was my dear Hans. We went into the hall together, and as our eyes met,

I wist that there was evil in the air. The letter he held bid him ride

forthwith to Altenperg. Junker Henning and my brother were minded to

have a passage of arms, and with sharp weapons. This, however, they

might not do within the limits of the city save at great risk, inasmuch

as that the town was within the King’s peace, and by a severe enactment

knight or squire, lord or servant, in short each and every man was

threatened by the Emperor with outlawry, who should make bold to provoke

another to challenge him, or to lift a weapon against another with evil

intent, be he who he might, throughout the demesne of Nuremberg or so

long as the diet was sitting. Hence they would go forth to Altenperg,

inasmuch as it was the nearest to arrive at of any township without the

limits of the city.

All this my lover had heard betimes that morning; but Herdegen had told

him that Master Schlebitzer and a certain Austrian Knight would attend

him. Now the letter was to say that they had both played him false;

the former in obedience to the stern behest of his father, the

town-councillor; the second by reason that his Duke commanded his

attendance. And Herdegen hereby urgently besought my Hans that he would

take the place thus left unfilled and ride forthwith to Altenperg.

Nor was this all the letter. In it my brother set forth that he had

pledged his word solemnly and beyond recall to Ann and her parents, and

entreated my lover to declare to the Tetzels and to his grand-uncle that

henceforth and forever he renounced Ursula. He would speak of the matter

at greater length at the place of meeting.

Cousin Maud and Hans and I held a brief council, and we were of one

mind: that this message should not be given to the Tetzels till after

the great dinner and when we should know the issue of the combat. My

heart urged me indeed to desire my lover to forego this ride, and I mind

me yet how I implored him with uplifted hands and how he forced himself

to put them from him with steadfast gentleness. And when he told me that

he for certain, if any one, could pacify the combatants or ever blood

should be shed, I gazed into his brave and manful and kind face, and

methought whither he went all must be for the best, and I cried with

fresh assurance: “Then go!” Every word do I remember as though it were

graven in brass.

Eppelein cracked his whip against his leathern boot-tops; old Tetzel’s

leaden voice cried out to enquire where we were lingering, and a silken

train came rustling down the stairs. My lover kissed his hand to me, and

I went forth with him into the court-yard. His fiery horse gave him

so much to do that he never marked my farewell. On a sudden it flashed

through my brain that this was that very horse which my grand-uncle

had given to Herdegen, and herein again, meseemed, was an omen of ill.

Likewise I noted that Hans was in silken hose with neither spurs nor

riding-boots. Howbeit the Hallers had many horses; and as a lad he had

been wont to ride with or without a saddle, and was a rider whom none

could unhorse, even in the jousting-ring.

He had soon quelled his steed and was trotting lightly over the stones,

followed by Eppelein; but as he vanished round the first corner meseemed

that the bourn stone, as he rode past it, was turned into the yellow

gravestone I had seen in my dream, and that again I saw the great black

letters of the name “Hans Haller.”

I passed my hands across my eyes to chase away the hideous vision, and

I was young enough and brave enough to return Ursula’s greeting without

any quaking of my knees. Cousin Maud, meanwhile, had walked up the

stairs, snorting and fuming like a boiling kettle; nor could she be at

peace, even among the company who were awaiting the bidding to table.

Many an one marked that something more than common was amiss with her. I

refrained myself well enough, and I excused my brother’s and my lover’s

absence with a plea of weighty affairs. My grand-uncle, however, guessed

the truth, and when I gave true answer to his short, murmured questions

he wrathfully cried: then these were the thanks he got? Henceforth he

would plainly show how he, who had been a benefactor, could deal with

the youth who had dared to mock his authority. Hereupon I besought him

first to grant me a hearing for a few words; but he waved me away in

ire, and signed to Ursula, who hung on his arm, and she set her lips

tight when he presently with wrathful eyes whispered somewhat in her ear

whereof I believed I could guess the intent. And when I beheld her call

Sir Franz von Welemisl to her side and give him her hand, speaking a few

words in a low voice, I discerned that, in truth she knew all.

She presently led her father aside and told him somewhat which brought

the blood to his ashy face, and led him to say her nay right vehemently.

But, as she was wont, she made good her own will and he shrugged his

shoulders, wrathful indeed, but overmastered by her.

During this space the great door of the refectory had been thrown open,

and when Tetzel with his old mother moved that way, desiring the guests

to follow him, my Uncle Christian, Ann’s faithful friend, whispered

to me that Herdegen had told him that he was now pledged to his “dear

little warder,” and likewise what was on hand between him and the Junker

von Beust. I might be easy, quoth he; the Brandenburger would have a

bitter taste of Nuremberg steel, of that he was fully assured. And he

ended his speech with a merry: “Hold up your head, Margery.”

Then we all sat down at the laden table, Dame Clara sitting at the top,

albeit she looked but sullen and ill to please.

Ursula had chosen to set Sir Franz by her side. Herdegen’s seat, at her

left hand, was vacant; and she bid her white Brabant hound, as though

in jest, to leap into it. The meal was served, but it all went in such

gloomy silence that Master Muffel, of the town-council, whom they named

Master Gall-Muffel, whispered across the table to my Uncle Christian

“was it not strange to give a funeral feast without ever a corpse.”

Again I shuddered. My jovial uncle had already lifted his glass, and

stretching himself at his ease he nodded to me, and drank, saying

loud enough for all to hear: “To the last pledged couple, and the

faithfullest pair of lovers.”

I nodded back to him, for I wist what he meant, and drank with all my

heart. Ursula had meanwhile kept her ears and eyes intent on us, and she

now signed to her father and he slowly rose, clinked on his glass, and

seeing that many were hearkening for what he should say, he declared to

his guests that he had bidden them to this banquet not alone to do honor

to the name-day of his venerable mother, whose praises his friend Master

Tucher had eloquently spoken, but rather that he might announce to them

the betrothal of his daughter Ursula to the noble knight and baron Franz

von Welemisl. Then was there shouting and clinking and emptying of wine

cups, whereat old Dame Clara Tetzel, who was deaf and had failed to

gather the purport of her son’s address, cried aloud “Is young Schopper

come at last then?”

Hereupon Sir Franz turned pale; he had gone up to the old woman, glass

in hand, with Ursula, and she now spoke into her grand-dame’s ear to

explain the matter. The old woman looked first at her son and then at my

grand-uncle, and shook her head; nevertheless she put a good face on

a bad case, gave Sir Franz her hand to kiss, and was duly embraced by

Ursula; yet she sat nodding her head up and down, and ever more shrewdly

as she heard the bridegroom cough. Amazement sat indeed on the faces of

all the guests; howbeit the ice was broken, and the silent and gloomy

company had on a sudden turned right mirthful. Cousin Maud, meseemed,

was the most content of all. Ursula’s betrothal had rescued her favorite

from great peril, and henceforth her plumed head-gear was at rest once

more.

All about me was talk and laughter, glasses ringing, voices uplifted in

set speeches, and many a shout of gratulation. When a betrothal is in

the wind, folks ever believe that they have hold of the guiding clue to

happiness, even if it be between a simpleton and a deaf mute.

The seat on my left hand, which my lover should have filled, remained

empty; on my right sat his reverence Master Sebald Schurstab, the

minorite preacher and prior who, so soon as he had spoken in honor of

one toast, fixed his eyes on the board and thought only of the next.

Thus, in the midst of all this mirthful fellowship, there was nought to

hinder my fears and hopes from taking their way. Each time that a cry of

“Hoch!” was raised, I roused me and joined in; scarce knowing, however,

in whose honor. Likewise the hall waxed hotter and hotter, and the air

right heavy to breathe.

To-day again, as yesterday, a storm burst over us. Albeit the sun was

not yet set, it was presently so dark that lights had been brought

in and fifty tapers in the silver candlesticks added to the heat. The

lightning flashes glared in at the curtained windows like a flitting

lamp, and the roar of the thunder shook the panes which rattled and

clanked in their leaden frames. The reverend Prior called on the blessed

saints whose special protection this house had never neglected to

secure, and crossed himself. We all did the same, and had soon forgotten

the storm without. The glasses ere long were clinking once more. I

watched the numberless dishes borne in and out-roasted peacocks, with

showy spread tails and crested heads raised as it were in defiance:

boars’ heads with a lemon in their mouth and gaily wreathed; huge salmon

lying in the midst of blue trout, with scarlet crawfish clinging to

them; pasties and skilfully-devised sweetmeats; nay, now and again, I

scarce consciously put forth my hand and carried this or that morsel to

my mouth but whether it were bread or ginger my tongue heeded not the

savor. Silver tankards and Venetian glasses were filled from flasks

and jugs; I heard the guests praising the wines of Furstenberg and

Bacharach, of Malvoisie and Cyprus, and I marked the effects of the

noble and potent grape-juice, nay, now and then I played the part of

“warder” to Uncle Christian; yet meseemed that it was only by another’s

will or ancient habit that I raised a warning finger. Was I in truth

at a banquet or was I only dreaming that I sat as a guest at the richly

spread board? The only certain matter was that the storm was overpast,

and that no hail nor rain now beat upon the window panes. How wet must

my Hans be, who had ridden forth in court array, without a cloke to

cover him.

To judge by the voices and demeanor of the menfolk the end of the

endless meal must surely be not far off, and indeed dishes were by

this time being served with packets of spices and fruits and pies and

sweetmeats for the little ones at home. I drew a deeper breath, and

methought the company would soon rise from the table, forasmuch as that

Jost Tetzel had already quitted his seat. Then I beheld his pale face

through a curtain and his lean hand beckoning to my grand-uncle. He

likewise rose, and Ursula followed him. Forthwith, from without came

a strange noise of footsteps to and fro and many voices. A serving man

came to hail forth Master Ebner and Uncle Tucher, and the muttering and

stir without waxed louder and louder. The guests sat in silence, gazing

and enquiring of each other. Somewhat strange, and for certain somewhat

evil, had befallen.

My heart beat in my temples like the clapper of an alarm-bell. That

which was going forward, and to which one after another was called

forth, was my concern; it must be, and mine alone. I felt I could not

longer keep my place, and I had pushed back my seat when I saw Uncle

Tucher standing by Cousin Maud, and his kind and worthy face, still

ruddy from the wine he had drunk, was a very harbinger of horror and

woe. He bent over my cousin to speak in her ear.

My eyes were fixed on his lips, and lo! she, my second mother, started

up hastily as any young thing and, clasping her hand to her breast she

well-nigh screamed: “Jesu-Maria! And Margery!”

All grew dark before my eyes. A purple mist shrouded the table, the

company, and all I beheld. I shut my eyes, and when presently I opened

them once more, close before me, as it were within reach, behold the

yellow headstone with black letters thereon, as in my dream; and albeit

I closed my eyes again the name “Hans Haller” was yet there and the

letters faded not, nay, but waxed greater and came nigher, and meseemed

were as a row of gaping werewolves.

I held fast by the tall back of my heavy chair to save me from falling,

on my knees; but a firm hand thrust it aside, and I was clasped in a

pair of old yet strong arms to a faithful heart, and when I heard Cousin

Maud’s voice in mine ear, though half-choked with tears, crying: “My

poor, poor, dear good Margery!” meseemed that somewhat melted in my

heart and gushed up to my eyes; and albeit none had told me, yet knew I

of a certainty that I was a widow or ever I was a wife, and that Cousin

Maud’s tears and my own were shed, not for Herdegen, but for him, for

him....

And behold, face to face with me, who was this? Ursula stood before me,

her blue eyes drowned in tears--tears for me, telling me that my woe was

deep enough and bitter enough to grieve even the ruthless heart of my

enemy.

CHAPTER IV.

The storm had cleared the air once more. How fair smiled the blue sky,

how bright shone the sun, day after day and from morning till night; but

meseemed its splendor did but mock me, and many a time I deemed that

my heart’s sorrow would be easier to bear with patience if it might but

rain, and rain and rain for ever. Yea, and a grey gloomy day would have

brought rest to eyes weary with weeping. And in my sick heart all was

dark indeed, albeit I had not been slow to learn how this terror had

come about.

That was all the tidings I had craved; as to how life should fare

henceforth I cared no more, but let what might befall without a wish or

a will. Sorrow was to me the end and intent of life. I spurned not my

grief, but rather cherished and fed it, as it were a precious child, and

nought pleased me so well as to cling to that alone.

Howbeit I seldom had the good hap to be left to humor this craving. I

was wroth with the hard and bitter world for its cruelty; yet it was in

truth that very world, and its pitiless call to duty, which at that

time rescued me from worse things. Verily I now bless each one who then

strove to rouse me from my selfish and gloomy sorrow, from the tailor

who cut my mourning weed to Ann, whose loving comfort even was less

dear to me than the solitude in which I might give myself up to bitter

grieving. All I cared for was to hear those who could tell of his last

hours and departing from this life, till at last meseemed I myself had

witnessed his end.

From all the tidings I could learn, I gathered that old Henneleinlein,

whose gall had been raised against me by the Court Fool, had no sooner

parted from us at Master Pernhart’s door than she had hastened to the

school of arms to make known to Ursula that my brother had plighted his

troth anew to his cast-off sweetheart. Hereupon Ursula had dared to say

to the Junker that Herdegen was her knight, who would pick up his glove

which he had cast down at the former dance; but that he nevertheless was

playing a two-fold game, and had treacherously promised Ann to wed her,

to win her favor likewise. Hereupon the Brandenburger had been filled

with honest ire, had sworn to Ursula that he would chastise her false

lover, and was ready, not alone to accept my brother’s defiance, but to

fight with ruthless fury.

Thus Ursula’s plot had prospered right well, inasmuch as, so long as

she hoped to win Herdegen, she had been in deathly fear lest the Junker

should fall out with him; whereas, now that in her wrath she only

desired that the faithless wight should give an account to the Junker’s

sword, she thought fit in her deep and malignant fury to brand my

brother as the challenger, knowing that if the combat had a bloody issue

he would of a surety suffer heavy penalty. And in truth she had not

reckoned wrongly when she declared that my brother, whom she knew only

too well, would be her ready, champion.

On the morning next after the great dance she had addressed a brief

letter to Herdegen beseeching him, for the friendship’s sake which had

bound them from their youth up, and by reason that she had no brother,

to teach Junker von Beust that a patrician’s daughter of Nuremberg

should not lack a true knight, when Brandenburg pride dared to cast

scorn on her in the face of all the world. My brother’s response to this

letter was a challenge to the Junker; yet had he not perchance been in

such hot haste, save that he had long burned to punish the overweening

young noble who had given him many an uneasy hour. He scarce, indeed,

would have drawn his sword at Ursula’s behest, inasmuch as he could

plainly see that what she had most at heart was to make their breach

wear such seeming to other folks as though he, who had been looked upon

by the whole city as her pledged husband, had not quitted her, but had

been ready rather to shed his heart’s blood in her service.

Verily Ursula believed that she had found a sure instrument of

vengeance, whereas she had heard say that Junker Henning von Beust was

one of the most dreaded swordsmen in the Marches. Herdegen, to be sure,

was likewise famed in Nuremberg as a doughty champion; yet it is ever

the way in Franconia, nay, and in all Germany, to esteem outlandish

means more highly than the best at home. Moreover she had many a

time heard my grand-uncle declare that the gentlemen of our patrician

families were not above half knights, and her intent was to sacrifice

Herdegen to the Brandenburger’s weapon.

Howbeit she had reckoned ill. Hans, who did service to my brother as his

second at Altenperg, after striving faithfully to make peace between

the two, was witness how our Nuremberg swordsman, who had had the

finest schooling at Erfurt, Padua, and Paris, not merely withstood the

Brandenburger, but so far outdid him in strength and swiftness that the

Junker fell into the arms of his friends with wounds in the head and

breast, while Herdegen came forth from the fray with no more hurt than a

slight scratch on the arm.

The witnesses saw what he could do with amazement, and Sir Apitz von

Rochow avowed that at my brother’s first thrust he foresaw his cousin’s

evil plight; and they said that during the combat the supple blade of

the Nuremberger’s bedizened sword was changed into a raging serpent,

which wound in everywhere, and bit through iron and steel. Afterwards he

set forth that perchance Junker Schopper, who was said to be even better

versed in all manner of writing than in the use of his weapon, had made

use of some magic art, whereat a pious Knight of the Marches would fain

cross himself.

Now whereas Junker von Beust had been in attendance on the King’s

person, the end of the fray could not be hidden from his Majesty, and

so soon as the wounded man had been carried into the priest’s house at

Altenperg for shelter and care, it was needful to remove his fortunate

foe into surety from King Sigismund’s wrath. In this matter both Rochow

and Muschwitz, who were the Junker’s seconds, demeaned them as true

nobles, inasmuch as they offered my brother refuge and concealment in

their castles, albeit they accused him between themselves of some secret

art; but he who was so soon to die counselled him to bide a while with

Uncle Conrad at the forest lodge, and see what he himself and other of

his friends might do to win his pardon.

When, at length, my lover was about to depart, the storm had burst;

wherefore the Brandenburgers besought him to tarry in the priest’s house

till it should be overpast. This he would not do, by reason that his

sweetheart looked for him with a fearful heart, knowing that her brother

was in peril; and forthwith he rode away. Herdegen gave him Eppelein to

attend him, and to bring back to him such matters as he had need of, and

so my beloved set forth for the town, the serving man riding behind him.

It rained indeed and lightened and thundered, yet all was well till,

nigh to Saint Linhart, the hail came down, beating on them heavily. At

that moment a burning flash, with a terrible crash of thunder, reft a

tree asunder by the road-way; his powerful horse was maddened with fear,

stood upright, fell back, and crushed his rider against the trunk of a

poplar tree. Never more did I look on the face of the true lover to whom

I was so closely knit--save only in dreams; and I thank those who held

me back from beholding his broken skull. To this day he rises before me,

a silent vision, and I see him as he was in that hour when he gave me

a parting kiss on our threshold, in the pale gleam of early morning,

solemnly glad and in his festal bravery. Yet they could not hinder

me from pressing my lips to the hands of the beloved body in its

winding-sheet.

It was on a fair and glorious morning--the day of the Assumption of the

Blessed Virgin--when Hans Haller, Knight, Doctor, and Town councillor,

the eldest of his ancient race, my dear lord and plighted lover, was

carried to the grave. The velvet pall wherewith his parents covered the

bier of their beloved and firstborn son was so costly, that the price

would easily have fed a poor household for years. How many tapers were

burnt for him, how many masses said! Favor and good-will were poured

forth upon me, and wherever I might go I was met with the highest

respect. Even in my own home I was looked upon as one set apart and

dedicated, whose presence brought grace, and who should be spared all

contact with the common and lesser troubles of life. Cousin Maud, who

was ever wont to mount the stair with an echoing tread and a loud voice,

now went about stepping softly in her shoes, and when she called or

spoke it was gently and scarce to be heard.

As for me I neither saw nor heard all this. It did not make me thankful

nor even serve to comfort me.

All things were alike to me, even the Queen’s gracious admonitions. The

diligent humility of great and small alike in their demeanor chilled me

in truth; sometimes meseemed it was in scorn.

To my lover, if to any man, Heaven’s gates might open; yet had he

perished without shrift or sacrament, and I could never bear to be

absent when masses were said for his soul’s redemption. Nay, and I was

fain to go to churches and chapels, inasmuch as I was secure there from

the speech of man. All that life could give or ask of me, I had ceased

to care for.

If, from the first, I had been required to bestir myself and bend my

will, matters had not perchance have gone so hard with me. The first

call on my strength worked as it were a charm. The need to act restored

the power to act: and a new and bitter experience which now befell was

as a draught of wine, making my heavy heart beat high and steady once

more. Nought, indeed, but some great matter could have roused me from

that dull half-sleep; nor was it long in coming, by reason that my

brother Herdegen’s safety and life were in peril. This danger arose from

the fact that, not long ere the passage of arms at Altenperg, in despite

of strait enactments, the peace of the realm had many times been broken

under the very eyes of his Majesty by bloody combats, and the Elector

Conrad of Maintz had gone hand in hand with him of Brandenburg to

entreat his Majesty to make an example of this matter. These two were

likewise the most powerful of all the electors; the spiritual prince

had, at the closing of the Diet, been named Vicar of the Empire, and he

of Brandenburg was commander-in-chief of all the Imperial armies. And

his voice was of special weight in this matter, inasmuch as the great

friendship which had hitherto bound him to the Emperor had of late

cooled greatly, and both before and during the sitting of the Diet, his

Majesty had keenly felt what power the Brandenburger could wield, and

with what grave issues to himself.

Thus, when my lord the Elector and the high constable Frederick demanded

that the law should be carried out with the utmost rigor in the matter

of Herdegen, it was not, as many deemed, by reason that the King was not

at one with our good town and the worshipful council, and that he

was well content to vent his wrath on the son of one of its patrician

families, but contrariwise, that his Majesty, who hated all baseness,

had heard tidings of Herdegen’s bloody deeds at Padua and his wild ways

at Paris. Likewise it had come to his Majesty’s ears that he had falsely

plighted his troth to two maidens. Nay, and my grand-uncle had made

known to King Sigismund that Ursula, who had been known to the Elector

from her childhood up, had been driven by despair at Herdegen’s breach

of faith to give her hand to the sick Bohemian Knight, Sir Franz von

Welemisl.

Moreover the Knight Johann von Beust, father of Junker Henning, had

journeyed to Nuremberg to visit his wounded son; and whereas he learnt

many matters from his son’s friends around his sick-bed, he earnestly

besought the Elector so to bring matters about that due punishment

should overtake the Junker’s foeman.

My lord the Elector had many a time showed his teeth to the knighthood

of Brandenburg, appealing to law and justice when he had taken part with

the citizens and humbled the overbearing pride of the nobles. It was

now his part to show that he would not suffer noble blood to be spilt

unavenged, though it were by the devilish skill of a citizen; forasmuch

as that if indeed he should do so all men would know thereby that he was

the sworn foe of the nobles of Brandenburg and kept so tight a hand on

them, not for justice’ sake, but for sheer hatred and ill-will.

When at a later day, I saw the old knight, with his ruddy steel-eaters’

face and great lip-beard, and was told that in his youth he had been a

doughty free booter and highway robber, who by his wealth and power had

made himself to be a mainstay of the Elector in Altmark, I could well

imagine how his threats had sounded, and that all men had been swift to

lend ear to his words. Yet that just King to whom he accused Herdegen

gave a hearing to von Rochow and the other witnesses; they could but

declare that all had been done by rule, and that Rochow had said from

the first that of a certainty the devil himself guided Herdegen’s sword.

Muschwitz, indeed, was sure that he had seen his blade flash forth fire.

Hereupon the father was urgent on the King’s Majesty that he should seek

to seize my brother, pronounce him a banished outlaw, and that whenever

his person should be taken he was to be punished with death.

All this I learnt not till some time after, inasmuch as folks would not

add new cause of grief to my present sorrow.

The way I was going could lead no-whither save to madness or the

cloister; I had so lost my wits in self, that I weened that I had done

my part for my brother when I had humbly entreated their Majesties to

vouchsafe him their gracious pardon, and had signed my name to certain

petitions in favor of the accused. Of a truth I wist not yet in what

peril he stood, and rarely enquired for him when Uncle Conrad had

assured me that he lay in safe hiding.

Sometimes, indeed, meseemed as though Ann and the others kept somewhat

privy from me; but even all care to enquire was gone from me, nor cared

I for aught but to be left in peace. And thus matters stood till rumor

waxed loud and roused me from my leaden slumber.

I had passed the day for myself alone, refusing to see our noble guests;

I was sitting in silence and dreaming by my spinning-wheel, which I

had long ceased to turn, when on a sudden there were heavy steps and

wrathful voices on the stairs. The door of the room was thrown open and,

in spite of old Susan’s resistance, certain beadles of the city came in,

with two of the Emperor’s men-at-arms. My cousin was not within doors,

as had become common of late, and I was vexed and grieved to be thus

unpleasantly surprised. I rose to meet the strangers, making sharp

enquiry by what right they broke the peace of a Nuremberg patrician’s

household. Hereupon their chief made answer roundly that he was here by

his Majesty’s warrant, and that of the city authorities, to make certain

whether Junker Herdegen Schopper, who had fled from the Imperial ban,

were in hiding or no in the house of his fathers. At first it was all

I could do to save myself from falling; but I presently found heart and

courage. I assured the bailiffs that their search would be vain, albeit

I gave them free leave to do whatsoever their office might require of

them, only to bear in mind that great notables were guests in the house;

and then I drew a deep breath and meseemed I was as a child forgotten

and left in a house on fire which sees its father pressing forward to

rescue it.

Hitherto no man had told me what fate it was that threatened my brother,

and now that I knew, I hastily filled up the meaning of many a word to

which I had lent but half an ear. My cousin’s frequent absence in court

array, Ann’s tear-stained eyes and strange mien, and many another matter

was now full plain to me.

My newly-awakened spirit and restored power asserted their rights, and,

as in the days of old, neither could rest content till it knew for a

certainty what it might do.