CHAPTER IX.

How Sir Otto was entertained by the Merchant.

The two horsemen, who thus proceeded on their way, were indeed of tempers the most opposite that could be imagined. As for Otto, one might have said, that his whole feelings were drawn from the darkest shades of night that lay in the forest around them; while Theobaldo’s, on the contrary, were inspired and modified by the fragrance of the blossoms, and the brightness of the stars. The latter tried, by every means in his power, to impart his own high spirits to his companion; and when he found that such endeavours were vain, began, in the melodious language of his country, to sing one love-song after another, which sounded beautifully amid the placid stillness of the night. Theobaldo was a good musician, so that Otto’s meditations were by no means disturbed by these songs; for, as he could not understand the words, it seemed to him almost as if one of the numberless nightingales from the neighbouring groves had determined to follow him, and sing for him alone. He might indeed interpret the language (or notes rather) in any way that best suited the current of his own emotions.

They came at last over a grassy eminence, from which they beheld the large town of Frankfort, with all its lights, on both sides of the Mayne, outspread before them. Otto halted there for a space, quite lost in wonder; for, educated, as he had been, at a lonely castle in the country, he had never before seen such a town; and the great number of lighted windows and lamps, though nothing more than is visible every night, seemed to him like some grand festal illumination. Theobaldo amused himself for some time with the surprise expressed by his companion, then said, “Yes, Sir Otto, this is the far-famed free town of Frankfort, and if you will enter within its walls, and condescend to honour my humble dwelling with your presence, I shall perhaps be able to shew you scenes that are yet more worthy of your approval and admiration.”

Immediately thereafter, they rode past several elegant villas and garden-houses on the outside of the gates. For the most part these dwellings made a brilliant appearance; one heard the sounds of the harp, female singers, and ringing of glasses; moreover, the light came through handsome verandas, bow-windows, and balconies, intertwined with vines and jasmine, the sight of which added effect to the sounds of convivial mirth within. Sir Otto believed that he had already entered the town, till at last, at Theobaldo’s command, the massy wings of the gate were opened, and they rode under the echoing portico, as if into a great castle, to which indeed Frankfort might be compared; and if the citizens were proud (as Sir Hugh had sometimes described them) the young knight thought, when he came into the long lightedup streets, that they had indeed good reason to be so.

Just as Otto’s horse took fright at the gleaming bow-windows of a large and handsome building, Theobaldo said,--“Noble sir, we are now arrived. Welcome to my humble abode.” Immediately there hastened from the palace many servants in elegant dresses, who, on a signal from their master, went to assist the knight; but he threw himself lightly and carelessly from the saddle, and as they were about to take his horse by the reins, “Nay, good friends,” said he, “that would prove no such easy undertaking; for he will not suffer any attendance but mine. I must myself lead him into the stable, take off the saddle and bridle, and give him his provender.” The glaring eyes of the charger, and his unquiet pawing with his fore-hoof, bore witness to the truth of what his rider had said. So the servants lighted him to a stable, where there were already many horses, which were all vehemently startled by the entrance of the stranger guest, stamping and neighing under the portico, which Otto now brought among them. He was indeed only withheld by his rider’s serious commands from directly trying his strength against some of his neighbours; and when the servants busied themselves in getting a halter to bind him fast, Otto said to them,--“That alone would be of little service, for he could easily break every band; but if I bid him be quiet, he will obey me.” Accordingly, he cried in a stern voice,--“Ruhig Bursch!” whereupon the noble animal stood like a lamb, and began to eat the corn which his master shook out before him.

Thereafter Otto accompanied Theobaldo, who had waited for him in the outer hall, into the state-chambers above. Here, in a lofty vaulted apartment, they found a numerous and brilliant assemblage, while at the farther end of the room arrangements were made for a kind of temporary theatre. The floor was raised, and there appeared thereon, in the back-ground, many figures in costly dresses, who seemed about to play their parts in some comedy. It was easy to perceive that Theobaldo was the king of this festival; for, of those who were least distinguished in the company, all made room for him with deep obeisance; while others, who were evidently of high rank, ladies and gentlemen, (the latter often with gold chains like senators,) received as marks of special favour his apologies, that he who was the master of the feast should have arrived so late. The performers in the back-ground of the hall stood still, and were silent, waiting, as it seemed, for their master’s signal, whether they should proceed or give over, till Theobaldo, having taken his place with his new guest on a seat near the stage, kindly nodded to them that the play should be continued.

Their performance was a sort of allegorical mystery, and the scene with which they were then occupied exhibited a gorgeous figure seated on a throne, representing the god of wealth, with the name “Plutus” in gold letters on his breast. Then there came all sorts of characters, priests, courtiers, judges, poets, minstrels, &c., who paid their homage to the god, entreating his protection. Thereupon Plutus, from a great store of bags, supposed to contain gold, gave more or less to each applicant, and the gift was delivered and received with some awkward rhymes, intending to satirize all ranks. At length there stepped forward a knight in complete armour, who paid his court even more humbly than the rest, and in a string of verses, indicated that gold and silver were the best balsam for wounds and bruises, concluding with these rude lines:

“Gold for blood, sir,--give enow; Your battles shall be fought I trow!”

Plutus was ready to deliver his answer, when, on hearing these last words, Otto started up in great wrath, laid his hand vehemently on his sword, and called out aloud, “That base recreant disgraces the armour which he wears, and I shall revenge on his own head the falsehood which he has uttered, if he has but courage to meet me on the field!”

Half laughing and half terrified, the whole company fixed their attention on the young angry champion. Theobaldo, however, who was also incensed, put an end to the performance, threatening the unfortunate representative of knighthood, that he should never again be suffered to enter within his doors. He then turned courteously to Otto, and begged that his guest would not impute the blame to him, if those stupid players, because they were in a merchant’s house, had absurdly tried to gain favour by satirizing all other professions. By this explanation the knight was quite calmed, and on his part offered many excuses for his rash conduct in thus disturbing the company. Soon after, the whole party adjourned to a magnificent banquet, which was prepared for them in another apartment.

But, notwithstanding the brilliance of the lights, the excellence of the viands, and profusion of wine, Otto could not help reflecting again on the hateful rhymes by which he had been roused to that fit of anger. This did not proceed, however, from any resentment which he had conceived against his courteous entertainer, nor against the company, but he could not help feeling that it was in consequence of his tragical encounter with Sir Heerdegen that he had been invited hither; and that he had as it were received gold for blood; for whether his reward were paid in the liquid gold of old Johannisberg, or in solid metal, made, in his estimation, no difference. Added to this, the conversation did not please him. He heard only endless debates about gain and loss, principal and interest; and when Theobaldo, sympathizing, as it seemed, with his guest’s feelings, tried to turn the discourse to the crusades of King Richard, this only led to a calculation, whether the Genoese or the Venetians would gain most on that occasion. Then, in the confusion of Otto’s brain, it almost appeared as if the wine that mantled in their cups were blood drawn from the veins of Christian knights; that the party knew this, and therefore drank it with greater pleasure. Nay, it came over him like a frightful dream, that Sir Heerdegen of Lichtenried, with a hollow voice, from his broken visor, addressed him:--“From my heart’s blood thou now fill’st thy luxurious cup, and while thou preparest for thyself a rich bed of down, I am stretched on the hard couch of pain, from whence, perchance, I may never more arise!”

Otto could no longer bear this; all the realities around him were lost in the creations of his madness. So he quitted his seat, and begged of Theobaldo that he might be allowed to depart, as he must pass that night at an auberge; for which resolution he would tell him his reason on the following day. “I do not require explanation,” answered Theobaldo, “for I already know the cause of your dissatisfaction. But, for Heaven’s sake, come again to-morrow, otherwise I must think that I too have become an object of your contempt!” “On the honour and word of a knight,” said Sir Otto, “I cherish for you only respect and friendship, nor shall I fail to come to-morrow, as you desire.” Thereupon they embraced, and Otto, accompanied by one of Theobaldo’s squires, led forth his horse, and went to spend the night at a house of public entertainment, to which he made his way through the now dark streets, according to directions that had been given to him.