Aslaugas Knight | Page 8

well understand how a lofty woman's
heart burns in keenest sorrow when a noble knight, who vowed himself
to be her own, withdraws his heart, and, like a weak bondman, is led
away to meaner hopes.' Hereupon she arose, and, sighing, disappeared
in yonder thicket. It almost seemed to me, Froda, as though she uttered
your name."
"Yes, it was me she named," answered Froda; "and not in vain she
named me. Aslauga, thy knight comes, and enters the lists, and all for
thee and thy reward alone! At the same time, my Edchen, we will win
for you your haughty bride." With this he sprang upon his steed, full of
the proud joy of former times; and when the magic of Hildegardis'
beauty, dazzling and bewildering, would rise up before him, he said,
smiling, "Aslauga!" and the sun of his inner life shone forth again
cloudless and serene.
CHAPTER III.

>From a balcony of her castle on the Maine Hildegardis was wont to
refresh herself in the cool of the evening by gazing on the rich
landscape below, but gazing more eagerly on the glitter of arms, which
often came in sight from many a distant road; for knights were
approaching singly, or with a train of followers, all eager to prove their
courage and their strength in striving for the high prize of the
tournament. She was in truth a proud and high-minded

maiden--perhaps more so than became even her dazzling beauty and
her princely rank. As she now gazed with a proud smile on the
glittering roads a damsel of her train began the following lay:--
"The joyous song of birds in spring Upon the wing Doth echo far
through wood and dell, And freely tell Their treasures sweet of love
and mirth, Too gladsome for this lowly earth.
"The gentle breath of flowers in May, O'er meadows gay, Doth fill the
pure and balmy air With perfume rare; Still floating round each slender
form, Though scorched by sun, or torn by storm.
"But every high and glorious aim, And the pure flame That deep
abiding in my heart Can ne'er depart, Too lofty for my falt'ring tongue,
Must die with me, unknown, unsung."
"Wherefore do you sing that song, and at this moment?" said
Hildegardis, striving to appear scornful and proud, though a deep and
secret sadness was plainly enough seen to overshadow her countenance.
"It came into my head unawares," replied the damsel, "as I looked upon
the road by which the gentle Edwald with his pleasant lays first
approached us; for it was from him I learnt it. But seems it not to you,
my gracious lady, and to you too, my companions, as if Edwald himself
were again riding that way towards the castle?" "Dreamer!" said
Hildegardis, scornfully--and yet could not for some space withdraw her
eyes from the knight, till at length, with an effort, she turned them on
Froda, who rode beside him, saying: "Yes, truly, that knight is Edwald;
but what can you find to notice in the meek-spirited, silent boy? Here,
fix your eyes, my maidens, on this majestic figure, if you would behold
a knight indeed." She was silent. A voice within her, as though of
prophecy, said, "Now the victor of the tournament rides into the
courtyard;" and she, who had never feared the presence of any human
being, now felt humbled, and almost painfully awed, when she beheld
the northern knight.
At the evening meal the two newly-arrived knights were placed
opposite to the royal Hildegardis. As Froda, after the northern fashion,
remained in full armour, the golden image of Aslauga gleamed from his

silver breast-plate full before the eyes of the haughty lady. She smiled
scornfully, as if conscious that it depended on her will to drive that
image from the breast and from the heart of the stranger-knight. Then
suddenly a clear golden light passed through the hall, so that
Hildegardis said, "0, the keen lightning!" and covered her eyes with
both her hands. But Froda looked into the dazzling radiance with a
joyful gaze of welcome. At this Hildegardis feared him yet more,
though at the same time she thought, "This loftiest and most mysterious
of men must be born for me alone." Yet could she not forbear, almost
against her will, to look from time to time in friendly tenderness on the
poor Edwald, who sat there silent, and with a sweet smile seemed to
pity and to mock his own suffering and his own vain hopes.
"When the two knights were alone in their sleeping-chamber Edwald
looked for a long time in silence into the dewy, balmy night. Then he
sang to his lute:
"A hero wise and brave, A lowly, tender youth, Are wandering through
the land In steadfast love and