Aslauga's Knight [5]
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 truth.
"The hero, by his deeds, Both bliss and fame had won, And still, with heartfelt joy, The faithful child looked on."
But Froda took the lute from his hands, and said, "No, Edchen, I will teach you another song; listen!--
"'There's a gleam in the hall, and like morning's light Hath shone upon all her presence bright. Suitors watch as she passes by-- She may gladden their hearts by one glance of her eye: But coldly she gazeth upon the throng, And they that have sought her may seek her long. She turns her away from the richly clad knight, She heeds not the words of the learned wight; The prince is before her in all his pride, But other the visions around her that glide. Then tell me, in all the wide world's space, Who may e'er win that lady's grace? In sorrowful love there sits apart The gentle squire who hath her heart; They all are deceived by fancies vain, And he knows it not who the prize shall gain.'"
Edwald thrilled. "As God
"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 truth.
"The hero, by his deeds, Both bliss and fame had won, And still, with heartfelt joy, The faithful child looked on."
But Froda took the lute from his hands, and said, "No, Edchen, I will teach you another song; listen!--
"'There's a gleam in the hall, and like morning's light Hath shone upon all her presence bright. Suitors watch as she passes by-- She may gladden their hearts by one glance of her eye: But coldly she gazeth upon the throng, And they that have sought her may seek her long. She turns her away from the richly clad knight, She heeds not the words of the learned wight; The prince is before her in all his pride, But other the visions around her that glide. Then tell me, in all the wide world's space, Who may e'er win that lady's grace? In sorrowful love there sits apart The gentle squire who hath her heart; They all are deceived by fancies vain, And he knows it not who the prize shall gain.'"
Edwald thrilled. "As God