Specimens of German Romance Volume I Part 2

After a short time Althea returned with her uncle, and presented the two guests to each other, when the old man said, "I have already heard so much worthy talk of you, Herr von Tausdorf, that I heartily rejoice in your more intimate acquaintance. You are in the imperial service?"

"Captain in the emperor's life-guard," replied Tausdorf, with military dignity.

"As the Frau von Sternberg informs my niece, you intend settling in our good Silesia. I am glad to hear it, and whatever I can do for you, either in act or counsel, I offer you with great sincerity; but it surprises me that you should think of leaving Bohemia. I understand you are in favour with the emperor, and, since the imperial diet at Prague has given independence to the protestants, it must be comfortable living for them in the Bohemian territory."

"This favour little profits us Utraquists. In reality the bull of Pius the Fourth is already recalled. Strict catholics still hold us for sectaries and half heretics: add to this, the new society of Jesuits already lifts up its serpent-head, and hisses out its threats at us.

Our religious freedom has almost come to an end."

"Yes, the Jesuits! the Jesuits!" exclaimed Schindel, and for a while was silent; then looking sadly at Tausdorf, he continued--"So, you are no thorough-paced Lutheran, Herr von Tausdorf?--only a Utraquist?"

The latter bowed a.s.sentingly, and Schindel added, as if to soften his first expression, "The Utraquists too are honourable people."

"I hope so," replied Tausdorf, smiling at the intolerance which lurked in the well-intended affirmation.

"But keep that a secret here as long as it can be done; at least till the people know you better. The town, as well as the whole country, is zealously Lutheran."

"Pardon me; in the field I have learnt neither simulation nor dissimulation, and I deem them besides contrary to my honour as a knight. He who, on account of the Utraquist, overlooks the man in me, is only an object of my pity, and I set little value on his opinion."

A tumult in the street interrupted this conversation.

"What is the matter below?" said Schindel to the servant, who just then brought in a fresh flask of wine.

"A violent fray," he replied, "in the house of the widow Fox, in the market-place. Francis Friend quarrelled with Ra.s.selwitz about a bay horse, and from words they drew their swords upon each other. The police have already interfered to put an end to the tumult."

"Gracious heavens!" cried Schindel, clasping his hands, "will this disorder never have an end?"

"The crime," returned Tausdorf, "was settled in this room by the violent young n.o.bles. I immediately suspected the evil that would come of it, and warned them, but in vain."

"G.o.d reward you for the good intent," said Schindel, and he proffered his hand to him with unfeigned cordiality: "There is, indeed, a necessity for rational people interfering in these mad affairs, which are now unceasing between the n.o.bles and the citizens; one fray always creates a mult.i.tude, and in the end both parties will be ruined by them."

As he spoke the door was violently thrown open, and in rushed the breathless Netz, sword in hand.

"For heaven's sake, what has happened?" cried Althea, anxiously.

"Under favour, sister," panted Netz, sheathing his sword: "Allow your servant to fetch my horse directly. He will find it in the stable at Barthel Wallach's. I must be off this hour from Schweidnitz, or I am lost."

At a sign from his mistress the servant hurried out.

"But what is really the matter?" asked Schindel, pressingly: "You have no doubt been again doing in your wrath what is not right before G.o.d."

"We went," said Netz, binding his pocket-handkerchief about his bleeding arm, "to fetch the horse which Francis had promised Ra.s.selwitz. In the house we stumbled on him and some fellows of his own stamp. From words it soon came to blows. The fray grew hot; my servant was flung into the well: still, however, we stood our ground fairly; but then came the police upon us with the whole tribe of city officers, and we were overwhelmed by numbers; Bieler was killed; Ra.s.selwitz wounded and taken; I saw that standing out would lead to nothing but death or a dungeon, laid about me like a boar at bay, and fortunately cut my way through."

"Men, men!--how will you answer for that which you have done?"

exclaimed Schindel, sorrowfully.

"What! are we to take any thing and every thing of these citizens? It may perhaps be Christian-like when one cheek is smitten to hold the other; but to strike again is human, and I do not wish to be any thing better than a man."

"The son of the worthy intendant killed!--and his murderer the son of the all-powerful Erasmus!" exclaimed Schindel--"It will be a war of the Guelphs and Ghibellines!"

"Your horse stands below," said the servant, returning: "Your lad saved himself in good time from his cold bath, and brought it hither."

"My horse waits below too," cried Tausdorf, taking up his gloves and hat: "With your permission, Herr von Netz, I will accompany you beyond the boundaries. The irritated citizens may mean evil to you if they find you yet within their jurisdiction."

"I accept your offer with thanks," replied Netz, hurrying out. Tausdorf kissed Althea's hand and said--"I thank you heartily for your friendly welcome; it seemed to me as if my dear native land greeted me with your lips, and I only grieve that our first meeting should be so brief and so unkindly interrupted; but I purpose repeating my visit, if the widow of my deceased friend will allow it."

"You will always be welcome to me," replied the beautiful widow, in embarra.s.sment; and the hands, which had been joined seemed to grow together, while her uncle called out from the window, "Haste! haste!

Netz is already mounted, and the police are coming up the streets from the market with a whole rabble of armed citizens."

"Farewell!" said Tausdorf, hastily, and disappeared; and Althea, darting to the window, cried out after him to be careful of himself.

The armed mult.i.tude approached; Netz, forgetting his companion, gave his horse the spurs and galloped off. In the meantime Tausdorf came out of the house, sprang lightly and nimbly into the saddle, and sent up a last friendly greeting to the window. In the same moment he was surrounded by the rabble. Several rough hands seized his horse's reins, while about him crowded a threatening array of pikes, maces, and firelocks; and a wild shout arose of--"Another of the murderers!--tear the scoundrel from his horse!"

"What would you with me?" said Tausdorf, sternly:--"I have had no share in this unhappy quarrel."

"Found together, bound together!" shouted the rough rabble: "You must ornament the town-jail."

With this the boldest amongst them seized the knight's legs to pull him from the saddle.

"Respect to the imperial colours, ye citizens of Schweidnitz!"

exclaimed Tausdorf, and gave his horse the spur and the curb at the same time. The n.o.ble beast reared and struck about him with his fore-hoofs, to the sore dismay of those who held the reins, and who immediately let them go; and the knight, thundering out to the mob to make way, now struck the rowels into his horse's flanks. In an instant two powerful plunges freed him from his enemies. A loud cry of mingled joy and terror echoed from Althea's window, while Tausdorf sprang over the rabble that were rolling upon each other in confusion, and rushed out of the gates at full speed.

"G.o.d be praised!" said Althea, as she left the window, exhausted by her feelings: "I was in terror for the brave knight."

"In terror?--already in terror?" asked her uncle mockingly, and, going up to her, he seized her hand--"Look me fairly in the face, niece."

For a moment she cast her eyes down, then raised them up to him with difficulty; but the effort to keep a steady gaze on her uncle's brow kindled a rosy glow upon her own. He went on, however, without mercy--

"And now, niece, as plain an answer: if this Bohemian should ever ask you to become his wife, would you in that case declare yourself as roughly as you have done this day to your other suitors?"

"You torment me," said Althea, with gentle reproach. Her hand slipped from his, and she fled out of the room.

"'Tis a clear thing!" said the uncle to himself--"Well, I have nothing to say against it; the man pleases me--I wish he were not a Utraquist!"

The lovely Agatha, the daughter of the city messenger, Onophrius Goldmann, sat at the window in her humble chamber. The spindle rested in her hand; on her lap lay an open volume of the songs and tales of the master-bards, but her hazel eyes wandered from the book to the darkening street, and her bosom heaved beneath its drapery. "Twilight,"

she exclaimed, "twilight is already coming on, and still my father does not return. O that no accident has happened to Francis!" At this moment, some one burst open the street door, and rushed into the chamber;--it was Francis Friend.

"I have had a glorious row with the vagabond n.o.bles," he cried, embracing the maiden roughly, "and the mad Netz has flayed my arm, but I think I have paid him for it, in a way that will make him remember me. Bind up the wound, Agatha."

"Wicked man," replied Agatha chidingly, as she stripped off the sleeve through which the blood was welling; "you are always running wantonly into danger, and care not for the anxiety which I suffer on your account."

"What, am I to let those vagabonds steal the horse from my stable? In the end they'll quarter themselves upon me, and drive me out of house and home."

"You hate the n.o.bles so violently, and yet have married the daughter of a n.o.ble!"

"Unfortunately! And I do believe it is on that very account she is such an abomination to me; but I shan't be such a fool again. My wife won't be much longer on her feet, and when she is unharnessed, my next choice is soon settled; a girl of low rank, when she is as beautiful as my Agatha, is dearer to me than a dozen countesses."

"Flatterer," murmured Agatha, winding her arms about his neck, while her kisses burnt upon his lips.