by Georg Ebers
CHAPTER XIX.
A short time after, the Emperor Charles, accompanied by the Queen ofHungary and several lords and ladies, took a ride in the open air forthe first time after long seclusion.
According to his custom, he had spent Passion week in the monastery.Easter had come on the latest day possible--the twenty-fifth ofApril--and when he bade farewell to the monks the gout had alreadyattacked him again.
Now he rode forth into the open country and the green woods like arescued man; the younger Granvelle, long as he had been in his service,had never seen him so gay and unconstrained. He could now understand hisfather's tales of his Majesty's better days, his vigorous manly strengthand eager delight in existence.
True, the period of anxiety concerning the tidings of political affairswhich had arrived the day before and that morning appeared to be over,for Herr von Parlowitz, the minister of Duke Maurice of Saxony, hadexpressed his conviction that this active young monarch might be inducedto separate from the other Protestant princes and form an alliancewith the Emperor, especially as his Majesty had not the most distantintention of mingling; religious matters in the war that was impending.
Despatches had also been sent from Valladolid by Don Philip, theEmperor's oldest son, which afforded the greatest satisfaction tothe sovereign. If war was waged against the Smalkalds, the alliedProtestants of Germany, Spain, which had been taught to regard thecampaign as a religious war, was ready to aid Charles with largesubsidies of money and men.
Lastly, it seemed as if two betrothals were to be made which promised tosustain the Emperor's statesmanship. Two of his nieces, the daughters ofhis brother Ferdinand, expected to marry--one the heir to the Bavarianthrone, the other the Duke of Cleves.
Thus many pleasant things came to him simultaneously with his recovery,and his mind, inclined to mysticism, received them as a sign that Heavenwas favourable to his late happiness in love.
Granvelle attributed the Emperor's unexpectedly rapid convalescence andthe fortunate change which had taken place in his gloomy mood to thefavourable political news, and perhaps also to the music which, as azealous patron of art, he himself loved. He, who usually did not failto note even the veriest trifle when he desired to trace the motivesof events which were difficult to explain, now thought he need seek nofurther for causes.
During the ride Barbara was not thought of, but in the Golden Cross itwas to become evident to the keen intelligence of the young master ofstatecraft that something extremely important might escape even hispenetration.
While waiting with Malfalconnet in the reception room of the monarch,who had gone into his chamber, for Charles's return, and summing upto the baron in a most charming way the causes which had effected thewonderful rejuvenation of his Majesty, the other showed him that he,Granvelle, had been short-sighted enough to overlook the most powerfulinfluence.
This would have been vexatious to the statesman had not his mind beenwholly occupied in considering how this unexpected event could be mademost profitable to himself, and also to his master, whom he served withloyal devotion.
Malfalconnet had received no confidence either from the Emperor or anymale member of the court, yet he knew all, for, though the Marquisede Leria well deserved the reputation of secrecy, she did not keep hertongue sufficiently in check while talking with her gay countryman. Whatshe overheard, he succeeded by his amiable wiles in learning, and thistime also he had not failed.
Soon after the Emperor had appeared again audience was given to severalambassadors. Then Chamberlain de Praet announced Captain Blomberg.
The latter, clad in full armour, entered the apartment. Over the shiningcoat of mail, which he himself had cleaned with the utmost care, he worea somewhat faded scarf, and his long battle sword hung at his left side.
He looked stately enough, and his grave, oldfashioned, but thoroughlysoldierly manners admirably suited the elderly warrior.
The Emperor Charles accosted the father of the woman he loved with thesame blunt friendliness that so easily won the hearts of the companionsin arms to whom he condescended.
Blomberg must tell him this thing and that, and the old man gazed intohis face with honest amazement and sincere delight when the monarchsupplied the names of places and persons which had escaped his ownfeeble memory.
He accepted the praise of his daughter with a smile and the modestremark: "She is certainly a dear, kind-hearted child; and as for hervoice, there were probably some to which people found less pleasure inlistening. But, your Majesty, that of the nightingale battering downsolid walls sounds still more beautiful to me."
The Emperor knew that the German cannoneers gave their guns the name ofnightingale, and was pleased with the comparison.
But while he was still talking gaily with the old warrior, who hadreally displayed truly leonine courage on many an occasion, Count Burenbrought in a new despatch, remarking, as he did so, that unfortunatelythe bearer, a young Spanish noble, had been thrown from his horse justoutside the city, and was lying helpless with a broken leg.
Sincere compassion was expressed, in which the Bishop of Arras joined,meanwhile glancing through the somewhat lengthy document.
It came from the heir and regent, Don Philip, in Valladolid. The princedesired to know the state of the negotiations with Rome and with DukeMaurice of Saxony.
After Granvelle had read the despatch he handed it to the monarch, andthe latter, in a low tone, charged him not yet to inform his son of thefair prospects for an alliance with Maurice, but to send an answer atonce.
While the minister withdrew to the writing table, the Emperor askedwhether a trustworthy horseman could be had, since the Spaniard wasdisabled; and Reitzenstein, Beust, and Van der Kapellen, in whomimplicit confidence could be placed, had been sent off that morning.
Then the Bishop of Arras again turned to the monarch, cast a significantglance at Malfalconnet, and, pointing to Blomberg, eagerly exclaimed:"If this valiant and faithful soldier still has a firm seat in thesaddle, this highly important message might be intrusted to him."
The proposal affected the adventure-loving old man like music. Withyouthful fire he protested that he could ride a horse as fast and endurefatigue as long as the youngest man, even though the goal were the endof the world.
Such an exertion, however, was by no means expected of him, for hewas to set sail at Flushing and land at Loredo in Spain. TherePostmaster-General de Tassis would furnish him with horses.
The Emperor had listened to this proposal from his counsellor with asmile of satisfaction. His purpose was sufficiently obvious.
How thoroughly this young diplomat understood men! With how delicate ascent he had again discovered a secret and removed a stone of offencefrom his master's path! He was competent to fill his clever father'splace in every respect. It was evident that neither promises nor giftswould have induced the old warrior to favour the tender wishes of hisimperial master. Now he himself hastened to leave the field clear,and Granvelle had foreseen how he would receive the proposal.Charles intentionally refrained from taking any personal share in thearrangements with the old man which now followed. A communication fromMalfalconnet appeared to claim his whole attention, until the Bishop ofArras announced that the captain had received his instructions and wasready to set out for Flushing and Valladolid.
The monarch listened with a slight shake of the head, and expressedhis hesitation about intrusting so important a message to a man ofsuch advanced age; but Malfalconnet, in a tone of good-natured anxiety,called to the captain, "One may be the father of a nightingale, my bravehero, and yet miss the way to the south without a guide."
"True, true," the Emperor assented. "So we will give our gallant frienda travelling companion who understands Castilian, and on whom we canalso rely. Besides, affairs of so much moment are better cared forby two messengers than by one. What is the name of the cavalier,Malfalconnet, who spoke to you of the friendship which unites him tothis brave old champion of the faith?"
"Wolf Hartschwert, your
Majesty," was the reply.
"The musician," said the monarch, as if some memory was awakened in hismind. "A modest fellow, whose reliability my sister praised.--And now,my vigorous friend, a prosperous journey! Your daughter, whom the favourof Heaven has so richly endowed with beautiful gifts, has found, Ihave heard, a maternal guardian in the Marquise de Leria. We, too, willgladly interest ourselves in the charming singer who affords us suchrare pleasure."
As he spoke he showed his old companion in arms the unusual honour ofextending his hand to him, and when the latter, deeply moved by suchgraciousness, ardently kissed it, he hurriedly withdrew it, saying, ashe kindly patted his arm, "You are doing us a greater service than youimagine, Captain Blomberg."
Then, wishing him a successful journey, he went to the writing table, onwhich the secretary Gastelu had laid the newly received despatches.
Radiant with joy, the captain, making many profound bows, left theapartment of the gracious monarch, for whom now he would really haveridden to the world's end.
On the stairs he was detained. Malfalconnet handed him two heavy rollsof gold for the expenses of the journey, and enjoined it upon him tobe ready to set out early the following morning. He might make his ownarrangements with Sir Wolf Hartschwert, and assure him of his Majesty'sgratitude in advance.
A short time after, Barbara was packing the gray-haired courier'sknapsack.
She had never yet worked for her father with so much filial solicitude.Everything that might be of use to him on the way was carefullyconsidered.
Though she had not been taken into his confidence, she knew the reasonthat he had been selected to undertake this toilsome journey.
The Emperor Charles was sending the old man far away that the happinessof her love might be undisturbed and unclouded, and the consciousnessweighed heavily upon her by no means unduly sensitive conscience.
Wolf, who was already unhappy on her account, had fared the same. Whenher father told her that the knight was to accompany him, she hadfelt as if an incident of her childhood, which had often disturbed herdreams, was repeated.
She had been swinging with boyish recklessness in the Woller garden.Suddenly one of the ropes broke, and the board which supported her feetturned over out of her reach. For a time, clinging with her hands to theuninjured rope, she swayed between heaven and earth. No one was near,and, though she soon stood once more on the firm ground unhurt, themoment when her feet, during the ascent, lost their support, wasassociated with feelings of so much terror that she--who at that timewas considered the bravest of her playfellows--had never forgotten it.
Now she felt as though something similar had befallen her.
She had seen the props on which she might depend removed from underher feet. If her father and Wolf left her, she would look in vain forcounsel and support.
That her lover was the most powerful sovereign on earth, and she couldappeal to him if she needed help, did not enter her mind. Nay, a vagueforeboding told her that he and what was associated with him formed thepower against which she must struggle.
The sham affection of the aristocratic lady who was to be her chaperon;the Queen, who last evening had catechised her as if she were a child,and whom she distrusted; the servile flatterer, Malfalconnet, in whosemirthful manner that day for the first time she thought she had detecteddislike and slight sarcasm; the imperial love messenger, Don LuisQuijada, who with icy, dutiful coldness scarcely vouchsafed a word toher; and, lastly, the confessor Pedro de Soto, who treated her like aperson who needed pity, and probably only awaited a fitting time to hurlan anathema into her face--passed before her memory, and in all thesepersons, so far above her in birth and rank, she believed that she sawfoes.
But how was it with the man who could trample them all in the dust likeworms--with her imperial lover?
Until now he had been observant of her every sign, but yesterday nightthe lion had raised his paw against her.
A slight pain had again made itself felt in his foot. She had eagerlylamented it, and in doing so deplored the fact that she would never bepermitted to share the pleasure of dancing with the man she loved andwho had first taught her how beautiful life was. This perhaps incautiousremark had roused the ire of the suffering monarch.
How sensitive was this man's consciousness of sovereignty, how muchsuspicion and bitterness must have gathered in his heart, if he couldsee in the girl's innocent compassion an offence to his dignity, ahumiliating reproach!
The rebuking sharpness with which he expressed his displeasure hadpierced her very soul. She felt as if she were shivering with a suddenchill, and for a long time she could not recover the loving warmth withwhich she had previously treated him. True, he had soon done everythingin his power to atone for the pain which his irritability had inflicted,but the incident had given her the perception that the poets whose songsshe sung were right when they made sorrow go hand in hand with the joysof love.
But as yet these joys of love far, far outweighed the suffering which itcaused.
Even while, before the full knapsack which only needed locking, shewas trying to discover what fault was to be found with the man whom sheloved, while saying to herself that Charles's inconsiderate, selfishtreatment of her father was unworthy of a generous man, and while alsothinking of the separation from the faithful Wolf, her heart stilllonged for her lover.
Was she not, after all, under obligation to be grateful to him foreverything for which she reproached him?
How dear she must be to this great sovereign, since, in order to possessher freely and completely, he allowed himself to be urged to an actwhich was unworthy of him!
If he had wounded her deeply, he had a right to expect her to excusemany things in him.
How he loved her, and how delicately he could woo and flatter, andmingle with his tender speeches the costly gifts of his rich and mobileintellect! How beautifully and aptly he could speak of her own art, andinduce her to oppose to his clever remarks her own modest opinion!He had cheerfully endured contradiction the night before during theconversation concerning music.
But what had followed her luckless regret about his lame foot?
The words had pierced her heart like knives; even now she did notunderstand where she obtained the strength to withhold the sharp answerfor which her lips had already parted; but she knew her hasty spirit,which only too easily led her to outbreaks of anger. Had the power oflove, or the magic spell which emanates from genuine royalty, forced herto silence?
No matter.
A good angel had aided her to control herself, and in a rapid prayershe besought the Holy Virgin to assist her in future if her august loveragain roused her to rebellion.
Now that she was losing her most sincere friends, the only ones whomight have ventured a kindly warning, she must learn to guard herself.
Perhaps it was fortunate that she had already discovered how necessaryit was not only to show the mighty sovereign to whom her heart belongedthat he was dear to her, but also to display the timid reverence withwhich millions bowed before him. But if she imposed this constraint uponherself, would her love still remain the same?
"No, no, and again no!" cried the refractory spirit within.
Was he not a weak, fallible mortal, subject, like every one else, tosuffering and disease, overcome by his passion, who had even been guiltyof an act which, had it been committed by the son of a Ratisbon family,would have seemed to her reprehensible?
Again and again this question forced itself upon her, and with itanother--whether she, the woman who had never tolerated such a thingfrom any one, ought not to undertake to defend herself against unjustassaults, which humiliated her in her own eyes, no matter whence theymight come?
Would she not hold a higher position in his sight if she showed him,whom no one ventured to contradict, that the woman he deemed worthy ofhis love dared to defend her dignity, although he had deprived her ofher natural protectors?
Precisely because she was conscious of loving him with her whole soul,because fo
r his sake she had given the world the right to deny herhonour and dignity, she was eager to show him that she prized both, andwas not inclined to let them be assailed.
Hitherto she had not regarded it as a disgrace, but as the highestdistinction, to be deemed worthy of the love of the greatest monarchon earth, and, with a sense of pride, had sacrificed her most sacredpossession to his wishes. But how could she retain this feeling if he nolonger showed her that he, too, regarded her worthy of him?
She had defied custom, law, the voice of her own conscience, and she didnot regret that she had done so. On no account would she have changedwhat had occurred if only she succeeded in guarding herself from beinghumiliated by her lover. To accomplish this, it was worth while toconfront a great danger boldly. It was the greatest of all, the peril oflosing him, for what would she be if he deserted her?
At the bare thought a torturing dread overwhelmed her.
Never had she felt so irresolute, so deeply agitated, and she uttered asigh of relief when her father returned from his visit to old Ursel, andpraised the care with which she had selected the articles that filledhis knapsack.
The flushed cheeks which he noticed could scarcely be the result ofthe light labour which she had performed for him. With the instinct ofpaternal love, he probably perceived that she was agitated, but he hadso little idea of the mental conflict which had taken possession of hersoul that her anxiety pleased him. The separation must be hard for thepoor child, and how could the honour bestowed upon the father fail toaffect the daughter's mind also.
He had hoped to find Wolf in Ursel's room, but he had already been awaysome time, and had told the old woman that he was going to the Hiltners,and should probably remain there a long while, as his schoolmate,Erasmus Eckhart, the nephew and adopted son of the syndic and his wife,had returned home from Wittenberg.
To find Wolf and deliver the important message Blomberg would have beenobliged to enter the accursed heretic's house, and, rather than do it,he protested he would inflict this and that upon himself.
But whom should he trust to represent him? The best plan would be forBarbara to write to the young knight, informing him of the honour instore for him.
He himself wielded the sword so much better than the pen.
The obliging daughter put a speedy end to her father's embarrassment byoffering to go in search of Wolf in person; she by no means shunned theHiltners. In fact, the doctor's wife had always been especially kind toher at the Convivium musicum, and her young daughter Martina, duringthe months in which she, too, was permitted to sing in the chorus, haddisplayed, whenever opportunity offered, an admiration for Barbara whichbordered on enthusiasm. Besides, there was no obligation to keep Barbarafrom this errand; the removal to Prebrunn to join the marquise was notto take place until noon of the following day.
The pious captain, it is true, was as reluctant to let his daughter goto the heretic's as to a pesthouse, but Wolf's notification permitted nodelay, so he consented, and expressed his willingness to accompany her.
