And bethinks him of his bride;
And ere long, while
onward going,
Chances past a fair to ride;
In the booths he
forthwith buys him
For his
mistress many a pledge;
But, alas! some Jews surprise him,
And long-standing debts allege.
And the courts of justice duly
Send the
knight to prison straight.
Oh
accursed story, truly!
For a hero, what a fate!
Can my
patience such things weather?
Great is my perplexity.
Women, debts, and foes together,--
Ah, no
knight escapes scot free!
1803.*
-----
WEDDING SONG.
THE tale of the Count our glad song shall record
Who had in this castle his
dwelling,
Where now ye are feasting the new-married lord,
His
grandson of whom we are telling.
The Count as Crusader had blazon'd his fame,
Through many a
triumph exalted his name,
And when on his steed to his
dwelling he came,
His castle still rear'd its proud head,
But servants and
wealth had all fled.
'Tis true that thou, Count, hast return'd to thy home,
But matters are faring there ill.
The winds through the chambers at liberty roam,
And blow through the windows at will
What's best to be done in a cold autumn night?
Full many I've pass'd in more piteous plight;
The morn ever settles the matter aright.
Then quick, while the moon shines so clear,
To bed on the straw, without fear,
And
whilst in a soft
pleasingslumber he lay,
A
motion he feels 'neath his bed.
The rat, an he likes it, may
rattle away!
Ay, had he but crumbs there outspread!
But lo! there appears a
diminutive wight,
A dwarf 'tis, yet
graceful, and
bearing a light,
With orator-gestures that notice invite,
At the feet of the Count on the floor
Who sleeps not, though weary full sore.
"We've long been accustom'd to hold here our feast,
Since thou from thy castle first went;
And as we believed thou wert far in the East,
To revel e'en now we were bent.
And if thou'lt allow it, and seek not to chide,
We dwarfs will all
banquet with pleasure and pride,
To honour the
wealthy, the beautiful bride
Says the Count with a smile, half-asleep;--
"Ye're
welcome your quarters to keep!"
Three
knights then advance, riding all in a group,
Who under the bed were conceal'd;
And then is a singing and noise-making troop
Of strange little figures reveal'd;
And
waggon on
waggon with all kinds of things--
The
clatter they cause through the ear loudly rings--
The like ne'er was seen save in castles of kings;
At length, in a
chariot of gold,
The bride and the guests too, behold!
Then all at full
gallop make haste to advance,
Each chooses his place in the hall;
With whirling and waltzing, and light
joyous dance,
They begin with their sweethearts the ball.
The fife and the
fiddle all
merrily sound,
Thy twine, and they glide, and with nimbleness bound,
Thy
whisper, and
chatter, and,
chatter around;
The Count on the scene casts his eye,
And seems in a fever to lie.
They
hustle, and
bustle, and
rattle away
On table, on bench, and on stool;
Then all who had joined in the
festival gay
With their partners attempt to grow cool.
The hams and the sausages nimbly they bear,
And meat, fish, and
poultry in plenty are there,
Surrounded with wine of the vintage most rare:
And when they have revell'd full long,
They
vanish at last with a song.
* * * * * *
And if we're to sing all that further occurr'd,
Pray cease ye to
bluster and prate;
For what he so
gladly in small saw and heard
He enjoy'd and he practis'd in great.
For trumpets, and singing, and shouts without end
On the bridal-train,
chariots and horsemen attend,
They come and appear, and they bow and they bend,
In merry and
countless array.
Thus was it, thus is it to-day.
1802.
-----
THE TREASURE-DIGGER
ALL my weary days I pass'd
Sick at heart and poor in purse.
Poverty's the greatest curse,
Riches are the highest good!
And to end my woes at last,
Treasure-seeking forth I sped.
"Thou shalt have my soul instead!"
Thus I wrote, and with my blood.
Ring round ring I
forthwith drew,
Wondrous flames collected there,
Herbs and bones in order fair,
Till the charm had work'd aright.
Then, to
learned precepts true,
Dug to find some treasure old,
In the place my art foretold
Black and stormy was the night.
Coming o'er the distant plain,
With the
glimmer of a star,
Soon I saw a light afar,
As the hour of
midnight knell'd.
Preparation was in vain.
Sudden all was lighted up
With the lustre of a cup
That a
beauteous boy upheld.
Sweetly seem'd his eves to laugh
Neath his flow'ry chaplet's load;
With the drink that
brightly glow'd,
He the
circle enter'd in.
And he kindly bade me quaff:
Then
methought "This child can ne'er,
With his gift so bright and fair,
To the arch-fiend be akin."
"Pure life's courage drink!" cried he:
"This advice to prize then learn,--
Never to this place return
Trusting in thy spells absurd;
Dig no longer fruitlessly.
Guests by night, and toil by day!
Weeks
laborious, feast-days gay!
Be thy future magic-word!
1797.
-----
THE RAT-CATCHER.
I AM the bard known far and wide,
The travell'd rat-catcher beside;
A man most needful to this town,
So
glorious through its old renown.
However many rats I see,
How many weasels there may be,
I
cleanse the place from ev'ry one,
All needs must helter-skelter run.
Sometimes the bard so full of cheer
As a child-catcher will appear,
Who e'en the wildest
captive brings,
Whene'er his golden tales he sings.
However proud each boy in heart,
However much the maidens start,
I bid the chords sweet music make,
And all must follow in my wake.
Sometimes the skilful bard ye view
In the form of maiden-catcher too;
For he no city enters e'er,
Without effecting wonders there.
However coy may be each maid,
However the women seem afraid,
Yet all will love-sick be ere long
To sound of magic lute and song.
[Da Capo.] 1803.*
-----
THE SPINNER.
As I
calmly sat and span,
Toiling with all zeal,
Lo! a young and handsome man
Pass'd my spinning-wheel.
And he praised,--what harm was there?--
Sweet the things he said--
Praised my flax-resembling hair,
And the even thread.
He with this was not content,
But must needs do more;
And in twain the thread was rent,
Though 'twas safe before.
And the flax's stonelike weight
Needed to be told;
But no longer was its state
Valued as of old.
When I took it to the weaver,
Something felt I start,
And more quickly, as with fever,
Throbb'd my trembling heart.
Then I bear the thread at length
Through the heat, to bleach;
But, alas, I
scarce have strength
To the pool to reach.
What I in my little room
Span so fine and slight,--
As was likely. I presume--
Came at last to light.
1800.*
-----
BEFORE A COURT OF JUSTICE.
THE father's name ye ne'er shall be told
Of my
darlingunborn life;
"Shame, shame," ye cry, "on the strumpet bold!"
Yet I'm an honest wife.
To whom I'm
wedded, ye ne'er shall be told,
Yet he's both
loving and fair;