Chapter XVI: Section II (10)

"'"Heinrich," said Wolfframb, in a very earnest and serious tone, "it is true your song was couched in a very extraordinary 'manner,' quite unlike anything we had ever heard before, and the ideas soared high, even beyond the clouds. But something within me said that such a song could never come out of the pure human soul, but must be produced by supernatural agency--as necromancers manure the earth of home with magical substances, and it brings forth the strange plants of foreign lands. You have become a great master of song Heinrich, and are occupied in lofty matters; but do you still understand the sweet greeting of the evening wind when you wander through the deep forest shadows? Does your heart still throb with gladness at the rustling of the branches, and the voices of the mountain streams? Do the flowers still look up at you with the eyes of innocent children? Does the nightingale's complaining still make your heart well nigh faint with pain? Ah, Heinrich, there were many things in your song which filled me with a sense of unholy awe. I could not but think of the picture you drew of the poor disembodied shades wandering on the banks of Acheron, when the Landgrave once asked you the cause of your secret pain. I could but fancy that you had bidden farewell to love, and that what you have obtained in its place is but the useless hoard of the wanderer lost in the wilderness. Even now I cannot help fearing--pardon me for speaking so plainly--that you have bought your mastership with all that joy in life which is only vouchsafed to the pious and childlike of spirit. A dark presentiment seizes me. I think of what drove you from the Wartburg, and the circumstances in which you have returned. Many things may succeed with you, it is true; perhaps the beautiful star of hope to which I have been raising my eyes may set for me for ever. Still, Heinrich--here, take my hand on it--never can any ill-will towards you find place in my heart. Notwithstanding the good fortune which is streaming over you now, should you one day suddenly find yourself on the brink of some deep, bottomless abyss, and the whirl of giddiness seizes you, and you are about to fall down and be destroyed, I shall be standing behind you, firm in heart, and I will hold you fast with my strong arms."

"'Heinrich had listened in profound silence to all that Wolfframb said. He now covered his face with his mantle, and dashed rapidly in amongst the thick trees. And Wolfframb heard him sighing and gently sobbing as he sped quickly away.

"'THE CONTEST ON THE WARTBURG.

"'Much as at first the other masters marvelled at the haughty Heinrich's songs, and praised them, ere long they began to talk of spuriousness in the "manners," of emptiness and superficial display--nay, of absolute wickedness--in the works which he brought before them. Lady Mathilda, and she alone, had turned to the singer with her whole soul; and he praised her charms in a "manner" which all the other masters (except Wolfframb of Eschinbach, who reserved his opinion) declared to be heathenish and abominable. Before very long Lady Mathilda became a wholly altered creature. She looked down upon the other masters with scornful arrogance, and even withdrew her favour from Wolfframb of Eschinbach. She carried matters so far as to ask Heinrich of Ofterdingen to give her instruction in the craft of song, and began to write compositions herself quite in the style of his. From this time all beauty and attractiveness seemed to abandon this poor deluded lady. Discarding everything which serves to adorn noble ladies, and leaving off all womanly ways, she became an uncanny creature, neither woman nor man, detested by the women and laughed at by the men. The Landgrave, fearing that this disorder of hers might infect the other ladies of the Court, issued strict commands that no lady should occupy herself in composition under pain of banishment, and for this the men, who were much horrified at Mathilda's state, thanked him warmly. Countess Mathilda left the Wartburg, and repaired to a castle not far from Eisenach, whither Heinrich of Ofterdingen would have followed her had not the Landgrave ordered that he should go through with the contest to which the other masters had challenged him.

"'"Heinrich of Ofterdingen," the Landgrave said to this overweening minstrel, "you have in ugly fashion broken up and disturbed, by those unholy songs of yours, the fair and happy circle which I had collected in this place. Me you could never beguile; I saw clearly, from the beginning, that your songs did not come out of the depths of a pure, honest singer's heart, but were the fruits of the teaching of some false master. What avails outward ornamentation, glitter, and brilliance, when what it covers is merely a lifeless corpse? You sing of lofty matters, of mysteries of the universe, it is true, not as they dawn in the hearts of men, as sweet presciences of a higher life, but as the presumptuous astrologer tries to comprehend them, and reduce and measure them with compass and scale. You should blush, Heinrich of Ofterdingen, to think at what you have arrived, that your brave, honest spirit has bent itself to serve an unworthy master."

"'"I know not, my Lord," said Heinrich, "how far I merit your displeasure and your reproaches. You may possibly alter your opinion when you hear who the master was who opened to me that province of song which is his own special home. I left your Court in a condition of the deepest melancholy; and it may have been that the pain, which then threatened to destroy me, was in truth only caused by the powerful effort of the germ within me to burst its way towards the fertilizing breath of a higher life. In a strange and remarkable manner a little book came to my hands, in which the greatest master of song on earth had expounded, with the profoundest science, the principles of the art, adding one or two compositions of his own. The more I read and studied in this book, the clearer it became to me what a wretched affair it is when the singer cannot go beyond expressing in words merely that which he fancies he feels in his heart. But, more than this, I felt by degrees as though I were becoming gradually linked on to higher powers, who often sang through me, instead of its being I myself who sang, although I was, in absolute truth, the singer at the same time. My longing to see this great master himself, and listen to the profound wisdom and the critical judgments streaming from his very lips, became irresistible. I went, therefore, to Siebenbuergen, for, pray let me tell you, my Lord, it was to Master Klingsohr himself that I repaired; it is to him I am indebted for the super-earthly scope of my compositions, and perhaps you may now take a more favourable view of my feeble efforts."

"'"The Duke of Austria," the Landgrave said, "has told and has written me much in praise of your master. Master Klingsohr is versed in profound and secret sciences. He calculates the courses of the stars, and distinguishes the wonderful connection existing between them and the destinies of men. The secrets of the metals, the plants, and the gems are laid open to him, and at the same time he is skilled in the conduct of mundane affairs, and aids the Duke of Austria in action, as well as with advice and counsel. But what all this may have to do with the singer's pureness of heart I do not know, and I believe, moreover, that this is exactly the reason why Master Klingsohr's music, artfully and cleverly thought out and constructed as it doubtless is, has not the smallest power to touch or move my heart. However that may be, Heinrich of Ofterdingen, my masters, enraged, nay outraged, at your arrogant, overbearing demeanour, desire to sing against you for the prize, for several days together, and that shall now take place."

"'So the masters' contest began, but whether it was that Ofterdingen's spirit, confounded by false teaching, could no longer find its way by that pure light which served for truthful minds, or whether the interest of the occasion redoubled the powers of the other masters, the result was that each one who sang against him overcame him and gained the prize, in spite of his utmost efforts. Ofterdingen was very angry over this disgrace, and began songs which, with contemptuous allusions to Landgrave Hermann, extolled the Duke of Austria to the skies, calling him the only glorious sun that had arisen upon art. Moreover, he attacked the ladies of the Court with insolent and scornful words, and went on to praise only the charms and beauty of Lady Mathilda, in heathenish and reprobate style. It could not be but that all the masters--the gentle Wolfframb of Eschinbach included--fell into just and righteous indignation at this, so that they trod Heinrich of Ofterdingen's mastership into the mire in the most fervent and unsparing songs. Heinrich Schreiber and Johannes Bitterolff stripped off the false and deceptive outward glitter from Ofterdingen's compositions, and clearly demonstrated the feebleness of the skeleton form hidden beneath. But Walther of the Vogelweid, and Reinhard of Zweckhstein, went further. They maintained that Ofterdingen's conduct was worthy of condign punishment, which they were prepared and eager to inflict upon him, sword in hand.

"'Thus Heinrich of Ofterdingen saw his mastership contemptuously trodden into the mire, and found even his very life in danger. Full of despair and fury, he appealed to the Landgrave for protection; nay more, to entrust the decision of the contest for the mastership to Master Klingsohr, the most renowned master of the time.

"'The Landgrave said:

"'"Matters now have come, between you and the masters, to such a point that it is no longer merely a question of mastership in the singer-craft. In those wild, insane songs of yours you have outraged me, as well as the noble ladies of my Court; therefore my honour and theirs is involved in the question. But it must be decided in singing contest, and I agree to this Master Klingsohr of yours being the arbiter. One of my masters, who shall be chosen by lot, shall contend with you, and the subject you shall treat of shall be left to your own selection. But the headsman shall stand behind you with drawn sword, and he who is vanquished shall be beheaded on the spot. About it, therefore, arrange for Master Klingsohr's arrival at the Wartburg within a year and a day, that he may settle the issue of this trial for life and death."

"'Heinrich departed, and peace returned to the Wartburg for the time.

"'The songs which at this time the masters sang in contest with Heinrich were spoken of as "the war of the Wartburg."

"'MASTER KLINGSOHR ARRIVES AT EISENACH.

"Nearly a year had elapsed when news came to the Wartburg that Master Klingsohr had arrived at Eisenach, and taken up his abode in the house of a citizen named Helgrefe, who lived near the St. George's Gate. The masters were much relieved in their minds that now their bitter quarrel with Heinrich of Ofterdingen would be brought to an end; but none of them was so eager to see this world-renowned master face to face as Wolfframb of Eschinbach. "It may be," he said to himself, "that, as the people say, Klingsohr is devoted to unholy arts, that the powers of evil are at his command, and have aided him to the acquisition of his mastership in all branches of knowledge. But the noblest wine is grown upon congealed lava. What recks the thirsty traveller that the grapes which quench his thirst are nourished by the very fires of hell? I can profit and delight myself by the masters deep knowledge and skilful tuition without asking further questions, only assimilating so much of it as a pure and pious heart may accept."

"'Wolfframb went off at once to Eisenach. When he came in front of the citizen Helgrefe's house, he found a crowd of people assembled, all staring, in eager expectancy, up at the balcony. He recognized amongst them many young men, scholars of the singer's craft, who kept on quoting this or that saying of the great master. One of them had written down the words he uttered when he went into Helgrefe's house; another knew exactly what he had had for dinner; a third averred that the master had actually looked at him with a smile, because he knew him to be a singer by his barret-cap, which he wore just as Klingsohr did his. A fourth began a song which he said was in Klingsohr's "manner." In short, it was a great excitement and commotion.

"'Wolfframb of Eschinbach at last succeeded in forcing his way with difficulty through the crowd, and in getting into the house. Helgrefe welcomed him courteously, and, at his desire, went upstairs to announce to the master his arrival. The master, however, was engaged in his studies, and could not receive any one just then. He might come back in a couple of hours. Wolfframb had to swallow this rebuff. He came back in some two hours' time, and had to wait an hour longer. After this, Helgrefe was allowed to usher him in. A strange-looking servant, dressed in silks of many colours, opened the door of the room, and Wolfframb went in. He saw before him a tall stately man, dressed in a robe of dark-red samite, with wide arms, richly trimmed with sable, pacing up and down the chamber with long solemn steps. His face was much like that which classical sculptors have given to their representations of Jupiter, such a domineering gravity sat on the brow, such a formidable fire flashed out of the great eyes. His cheeks and chin were covered by a black curling beard, and on his head was what was either a barret-cap of strange form or a cloth wound round it in a peculiar fashion; it was hard to determine which. He had his arms folded over his breast, and, as he paced up and down, he spoke, in a clear, ringing voice, words which to Wolfframb were incomprehensible. On looking round the chamber, which was full of books and quantities of extraordinary-looking apparatus, Wolfframb saw in one corner a little old pallid mannikin, scarce three feet high, sitting upon a tall stool, busied in writing down, as hard as he could, all that the master was saying, on a leaf of parchment, with a silver pen. When this had been going on for a considerable time, the master's glance fell upon Wolfframb, and, stopping in his walk, he stood still in the centre of the chamber. Wolfframb greeted him with pleasant verses, in a light playful style, explaining that he was come to be edified by Klingsohr's masterly skill and knowledge, and begging him to respond to him in a similar vein, so as to display his powers. The master measured him from head to foot with a wrathful glance, and said:

"'"Heyday! and who may you be, young sir, who have the impertinence to come here, pitting yourself against me with your idiotic rhymes, as if actually having the overweening presumption to challenge me to a prize-singing? Ah! I see! you can be none other than Wolfframb of Eschinbach, the most unfledged, ignorant laic of those who style themselves masters of the singer's craft up on the Wartburg. No, no, boy! You will have to grow a little ere you can hope to pit yourself against me."

"'Wolfframb had not looked for a reception of this kind. His blood boiled at Klingsohr's insulting words. He felt the power with which the heavens had gifted him awaking within him more vividly than was usual. He looked the master straight in the eyes, gravely and firmly, and said:

"'"Master Klingsohr, you do not well in assuming this hard and bitter tone, in place of answering me kindly and frankly, as I addressed you. I know you are my superior in science, and probably also in the singer's craft; but that does not justify you in these arrogant vauntings, which you ought to think beneath you. I tell you to your face, Master Klingsohr, that I now believe that, as the people say, you have power over evil spirits, and intercourse with infernal beings, through the unholy arts which you practise. It is because you can call up dark spirits from the abyss that your mastership is so great. The mind of man stands aghast at them, and it is the terror of them which makes you prevail; not that profound love which streams forth from a pure singer's soul into the heart of the sympathetically-minded. This is why you are arrogant, as no singer, whose heart is untainted, ever can be."

"'"Hoho!" answered Master Klingsohr, "Hoho, young sir! Do not get on your high horse in this manner. As for my supposed intercourse with powers of evil, be silent. It is beyond your comprehension; it is but the idle chatter of childish idiots that it is from such a source that my skill in sing-craft is derived. But, let me ask you, whence did you derive what small knowledge on the subject you possess? Do you suppose I do not know that at Siegebrunnen, in Scotland, Master Friedebrand lent you certain books, which you, with base ingratitude, did not return, but kept, and that all your songs are taken from them? Ha ha! if I have the devil to thank, you have to thank your own ingrained ingratitude."

"'Wolfframb was aghast at this horrible accusation. He laid his hand on his heart, and said:

"'"May God be mine aid!--Amen. The spirit of falsehood is mighty within you, Master Klingsohr. How could I have so shamefully cozened my great master, Friedebrand, of his precious writings? Let me tell you that I kept these manuscripts only just as long as Master Friedebrand wished me to do so, and then gave them back to him again. Have you never learned anything from the writings of other masters?"

"'"Be that as it may," Klingsohr replied, without paying much attention to what Wolfframb said, "whencesoever you may have derived your art, what warrants you in attempting to place yourself on a level with me? Are you aware how diligently I have studied in Rome, in Paris, in Cracow; that I have travelled to the distant east, and learned the secrets of the wise Arabs; that I have sucked the essence of every school of the singer's craft that exists, and wrung the prize from every one who has competed with me; that I am a master of the Seven Liberal Arts? Whereas you, who have spent your days in far-off Switzerland, at a distance from everything in the shape of art and science, you, who are a mere laic, ignorant of all book-knowledge, cannot by any possibility have acquired even the rudiments of the true craft of song."

"'During this speech of Klingsohr's, Wolfframb's anger had quite calmed down. The cause may have been that, at Klingsohr's braggart language, the precious gift of song within him shone forth more jubilantly bright, as do the sunbeams when they break victoriously through the heavy clouds which the storm has brought driving up on its wings. A gentle and pleasant smile spread over his face, and he said, in a quiet tone of self-command, to the irritated Master Klingsohr:

"''Nay, good master, I might reply that though I have never studied at Rome or Paris, nor sought out the wise Arabs in their own distant land, I have known many singers of fame and skill (to say nothing of my master, Friedebrand, whom I followed into the heart of Scotland) whose instruction has much profited me; and that--like yourself--I have gained the singer's prize at the courts of many of our exalted princes in Germany. But I hold that all instruction, and all intercourse with the greatest masters would have availed me nothing, had not the eternal might of heaven placed within me the spark which has blazed up into the glorious beams of song; had I not held--and did I not still hold--afar from me all that is false or base; did I not strive, with all my strength, to sing nothing other than that which truly fills my heart."

"'And here he began--he scarcely knew how, or why--to sing a glorious song, in the "Golden Tone," which he had shortly before composed.

"'Master Klingsohr paced up and down full of wrath. Then he paused before Wolfframb, gazing at him with his fixed, gleaming eyes, as if he would pierce him through and through. When Wolfframb had ended, Klingsohr laid his hands on his shoulders, and said, gently and quietly, "Well, since you will not have it otherwise, Wolfframb, let us sing against one another, in all the tones and manners. But we will go elsewhere; this chamber is not fit for the like. Besides, you must drink a cup of good wine with me."

"'At this instant the little mannikin who had been writing tumbled down from his stool, and, as he fell hard on to the floor, he gave a little delicate cry of pain. Klingsohr turned quickly round, and pushed the little creature with his foot into a sort of cupboard under the desk, which he closed upon him. Wolfframb heard the mannikin making a low whimpering and sobbing. After this, Klingsohr shut all the books which were lying about open; and each time that he closed one, a strange, awe-inspiring sound, like a death sigh, passed through the room. Next he took up in his hands wonderful roots; which, as he took them, had the appearance of strange unearthly creatures, and struggled with their stems and fibres, as if with arms and legs. Indeed, often a little, distorted human-looking countenance would come jerking out grinning and laughing in a horrible manner. At the same time it grew unquiet in the cupboards round the room, and a great bird appeared, flapping about in wavering, irregular flight with whirring wings that glittered like gold. Darkness was falling fast, and Wolfframb began to feel profound alarm. Klingsohr took a stone out of a case, which immediately diffused a light as bright as the sun through the room. On this all grew still, and Wolfframb saw and heard no more of that which had caused his uneasiness.

"'Two servants, dressed in the same strange fashion, in many-coloured silks, as the one who had opened the door at first, came in with magnificent garments, in which they dressed their master. And then Klingsohr and Wolfframb went out together to the Town-Cellar.

"'They drank to friendship and reconciliation, and they sang against each other in all the most skilful and artful "manners." There was no other master present to decide which of them was the victor, but had there been one he would doubtless have declared that Klingsohr had the worst of it. For with the utmost efforts of his art and intelligence he never in the least attained to the power and sweetness of the simple songs which Wolfframb sung.

"'The latter had just ended one of his most successful essays when Master Klingsohr leaned back in his chair, and said, in a low, gloomy tone:

"'"You called me vain and braggart, Master Wolfframb; but you would much mistake me if you supposed that I was so blinded by vanity that I should not recognize the true art of song wherever I come across it--were it in the wilderness, or in the master's hall. There is none here to judge between you and me; but I tell you that you have vanquished me Master Wolfframb: and, by my so saying, you may recognize the genuineness of my art."

"'"Oh, good Master Klingsohr," said Wolfframb, "it may be that a certain special sense of happiness which I feel within me to-night may have made my efforts more successful than they may be at other times. Far be it from me to rank myself higher than you on that account. Perhaps your heart was heavy to-day--how often it happens that a heavy weight seems to lie upon one, like mists resting upon a meadow, and hindering the flowers from lifting up their heads. You may say you are vanquished to-night, but nevertheless I admired much in your beautiful songs, and you may very probably gain the victory to-morrow."

"'"What does that single-hearted modesty of yours avail you?" cried Master Klingsohr, who started up quickly from his seat, and turning his back to Wolfframb, placed himself at the lofty window, through which he gazed in silence at the pale moonbeams falling from on high.

"'After some minutes of this he turned, walked up to Wolfframb and said, in a loud voice, while his eyes glared with anger:

"'"You were right, Wolfframb of Eschinbach. My skill and knowledge are backed up by powers of darkness; and your nature and mine must ever be at variance. You have vanquished me: but in the night which follows this I will send one to you who is called Nasias. Sing against him; and have a care that he does not vanquish you."

"'With which Master Klingsohr went storming out of the Town-Cellar.

"'NASIAS COMES BY NIGHT TO VISIT WOLFFRAMB OF ESCHINBACH.

"'Wolfframb lodged in Eisenach over against the Bread House with a burgher of the name of Gottschalk: a kindly, pious man who held him in great honour. Although Klingsohr and Eschinbach had thought they were alone and unobserved in the Town-Cellar, it might well have been that many of the young scholars of song who dogged and watched every step of the celebrated master, and strove to catch every word and syllable that fell from his lips, might have found means to listen to the two masters singing against each other. At all events, the news that Wolfframb of Eschinbach had overcome the great Master Klingsohr had spread abroad in Eisenach, so that Gottschalk had come to hear of it. He hastened to his lodger full of joy, and asked him how it could possibly have happened that this haughty master should have consented to undertake a prize-singing in the Town-Cellar. Wolfframb told him all that had happened, not concealing the circumstance that Master Klingsohr had threatened to set one of the name of Nasias at him in the night. At this Gottschalk turned pale with terror, beat his hands together, and cried in a lamentable tone:

"'"Ah! gracious heavens, good sir, do you not know that Master Klingsohr has dealings with evil spirits, which are subject to him and obliged to execute his commands? Helgrefe, in whose house Master Klingsohr has taken up his abode, tells his neighbours the strangest tales as to what goes on there. It seems that often in the night time one would think a large concourse of people were collected in his room, although no one is ever seen to go in; and then there begins a wild, extraordinary singing, and the strangest goings on of all kinds--all the windows streaming with dazzling light. Very likely this Nasias may be the very evil one in person, and will carry you off to perdition--you ought to set off, dearest master. Do not wait for this terrible visitor--get away, I implore you."

"'"What?" answered Wolfframb. "My good landlord Gottschalk, why would you have me go away as if I was afraid to sing against this same Nasias? That would not be conduct for a master singer by any means. Be Master Nasias an evil spirit or not, I await him patiently and tranquilly. He may sing me down with his acherontic 'manners,' but he will strive in vain to beguile my pious heart, or to do hurt to my immortal soul!"

"'"I am well aware," said Gottschalk, "that you are a valiant gentleman, and have not the slightest fear of the very devil himself. But if you are determined to stay here, at least allow my servant Jonas to be in the room with you. He is a pious, stalwart, broad-shouldered fellow, and doesn't mind the singing one hair's breadth. And if you chance to get a little spent, and feel a trifle faint with all the devilish howling--so that Nasias should be like to get the better of you and come at you--Jonas will give a shout, and we will come in with holy water and consecrated candles. And they say the devil cannot endure the stink of musk which a Capuchin friar has worn on his breast in a bag. I'll have some of that handy, and will make such a fumigation that Master Nasias won't have enough breath left to sing a bar."

"'Wolfframb of Eschinbach laughed at his landlord's kindly anxiety, and said he was now quite ready, and only wished the trial between him and Nasias were over. Jonas, however--the pious man with the broad shoulders, proof against all singing, of whatsoever kind--might stay and be welcome.

"The fateful night arrived. At first all was quiet; till the works of the church clock whirred and rattled, and it struck twelve. Then a gust of wind came breezing through the house, ugly voices howled in confusion and a wild croaking scream as of pain and terror--like that of some frightened night-bird--was heard. Wolfframb had been immersed in beautiful, pure, pious poets' fancies, and had almost forgotten the evil visit in store for him. But now icy shudders ran through his veins; yet he pulled himself together and went to the centre of the room. The door burst open with a tremendous crash, which shook the whole house; and a tall form, surrounded with fiery light, stood before him, and gazed at him with gleaming, malignant eyes. This form was of such terrible aspect that doubtless many a man would have lost his courage, nay, fallen to the ground in wild apprehension; but Wolfframb stood firm, and asked in a grave and emphatic manner:

"'"What is your will and business in this place?"

"'The form answered, in a horrible, yelling voice:

"'"I am Nasias, come to contend with you in the singer's craft."

"'Nasias opened his large cloak, and Wolfframb saw that he had a number of books under his arms, which he let fall on the table beside him. He then at once began a wonderful song, which treated of the Seven Planets and the music of the Heavenly Spheres, as described in Scipio's Dream, and he rang the changes on the most ingenious and complicated "tones" and "manners." Wolfframb, who had seated himself in his armchair, listened calmly, with downcast eyes; and when he had quite finished began a beautiful "tone" or "manner" upon religious themes. At this Nasias jumped hither and thither, and tried to interrupt Wolfframb with howlings, and to throw the heavy books he had brought with him at the singer. But the clearer and the stronger that Wolfframb's song streamed forth, the paler grew Nasias's fieriness, and the more his form crumbled and shrunk together, so that at last he was running up and down on the cupboards, with his little red cloak and the thick ruff at the throat of it, no more than a span long--weaking and squeaking. Wolfframb, when he had ended his song, was going to catch hold of him, but he shot out at once to his original size, and breathed out flames of fire all round him.

"'"Hei! hei!" he cried, in a terrible voice, "none of these tricks on me, young sir; very likely you may be a great authority on theology, and well versed in the doctrines and subtleties of your fat book; but you are not therefore a singer fit to measure himself against me and my master. Let us have a nice love song, and see where your mastership will be then."

"He then sang a song concerning Fair Helen, and the marvellous delights of the Venusberg. And indeed this song was fascinating; and it was as if the flames which Nasias emitted turned to perfume, breathing voluptuous passion, delight, and desire, amid which the beautiful sounds floated up and down, like love gods at play. Wolfframb had listened to this song as to the former one quietly, with his eyes fixed on the ground. But soon there came to him a sense as though he were wandering along the shady alleys of some beautiful garden, while lovely tones of an exquisite music came floating over the beds of flowers, breaking through the leafy shadows like the dawning red of morning; and the songs of the Evil Thing sunk away before them into night, as the birds of darkness plunge terrified into some deep ravine, croaking at the coming of the day. And as those tones streamed clearer and clearer, his heart throbbed with sweet anticipation and ineffable longing. Soon she who was his life came forth from the thick bushes, in all the splendour of her beauty and grace; and the leaves rustled, and the clear streams plashed, greeting the fairest of women with a thousand sighs of love. She came floating onward, borne on the pinions of song, as on the outstretched wings of a beautiful swan; and when her heavenly glance touched him all the bliss of the purest love-rapture awoke in his heart. In vain he strove to find words, or tones of music. But, when she vanished, he threw himself down on the flowery mead, he called her name to the breezes, he embraced the tall lilies, he kissed the roses on their glowing lips; and all the flowers understood his rapture, and the morning wind, the brooks, and the bushes talked with him of the nameless ecstasy of pure affection.

"'Thus, while Nasias was going on with his vain and empty love songs, Wolfframb was thinking of the moment when he saw Lady Mathilda for the first time in the garden at the Wartburg; just as she had appeared to him then, he saw her before him now in all her beauty, looking at him with the self-same eyes of love.

"Thus he had heard none of that which the Evil Thing was singing, and when it was done he himself began a song which treated of the bliss of a pious singer's pure affection in the most glorious strains of power.

"'The Evil Thing grew more and more restless, till at last he began to bleat like a goat, and do all manner of mischief in the room. Then Wolfframb arose, and commanded him, in the name of Christ and the saints, to take himself off. Nasias, spurting out fiery flames around him, gathered his books together, and cried, with mocking laughter:

"'"Schnib! Schnab! what are you but an ignorant laic?--yield the mastership to Klingsohr!" he stormed out like a hurricane, and a stifling stench of sulphur filled the room.

"'Wolfframb opened the windows; the fresh morning air streamed in, and cleared away all traces of the Evil Thing. Jonas woke up from the deep sleep into which he had fallen, and wondered not a little to learn that all was over. He called his master, to whom Wolfframb related all that occurred. And if Gottschalk had honoured the noble Wolfframb before, he now looked upon him as a very saint, whose pious power could baffle the denizens of hell itself. When he chanced to cast his eyes towards the ceiling of the room, what was his astonishment to see, written in letters of fire above the door, the words:

"'"Schnib! Schnab! what are you but an ignorant laic?--yield the mastership to Klingsohr!"

"The Evil Thing had written there the last words he spoke when he took his departure, by way of an eternal defiance. "Not a single happy hour," said Gottschalk, "can I spend in this house while that devilish writing--an affront to my dear Master Wolfframb of Eschinbach--keeps on burning there on the wall." He went off straight and fetched masons to plaster the words over with lime. It was so much labour wasted.

"They put on a finger's depth of lime, and still the writing was as plain as ever. And when they took it all off again and came to the bare bricks the writing was burning upon them as brightly as before. Gottschalk uttered loud complaints, and begged Wolfframb to sing something which should constrain Nasias to remove the horrible writing himself. Wolfframb said, laughing, that this might not be in his power, but that Gottschalk should wait patiently, and see if the writing might perhaps disappear when he had gone away.

"'It was high noon when Wolfframb of Eschinbach left Eisenach in the happiest possible frame of mind, and the highest spirits, like one who sees the brightest and most hopeful of prospects dawning before him. Not far from the town there came, meeting him, Count Meinhard of Muehlberg, and Walther of Bargel, the cupbearer, dressed in the richest attire, on gaily caparisoned horses, attended by a numerous retinue. Wolfframb saluted them, and learned that Landgrave Hermann had despatched them to Eisenach to escort the renowned Master Klingsohr to the Wartburg. On the previous night Klingsohr had repaired to a high window of Helgrefe's house, and consulted the stars with great care. When he drew his astrological figures, one or two students of astrology, who had joined him, saw from his looks and manner that some important secret which he had read in the stars was filling his mind. They did not hesitate to inquire of him concerning it. Then Klingsohr rose from his seat, and said, in a solemn tone:

"'"Know that, this night, a daughter will be born to Andreas the Second, King of Hungary. Her name will be Elizabeth; and, for her goodness and virtues, she will be canonized, in after time, by Pope Gregory the Ninth. And this Saint Elizabeth will be the wife of Ludwig, the son of your Landgrave Hermann."

"'This prophecy was at once communicated to the Landgrave, who was beyond measure delighted thereat. And he altered his opinion concerning the renowned master, whose mysterious knowledge had announced the rising of so fair a star of hope. Wherefore he had determined that Klingsohr should be conducted to the Wartburg with the pomp and ceremony due to a prince.

"'Wolfframb thought that now, in all probability, the decision of the singers' life-and-death trial would be postponed on this account, especially as Heinrich of Ofterdingen had not made his appearance as yet. But the knights said that the Landgrave had received news of Heinrich's arrival, that the inner court of the castle was chosen as the scene of the contest, and Stempel, the executioner from Eisenach, ordered to be in attendance.

"'MASTER KLINGSOHR QUITS THE WARTBURG, AND THE
SINGERS-CONTEST IS DECIDED.

"'In a fair and lofty chamber of the Wartburg sate Landgrave Hermann and Klingsohr in confidential converse together. Klingsohr again assured the Landgrave that he had distinctly seen and carefully read the meaning of the constellations on the previous night, and ended by advising him to despatch an Embassy at once to the King of Hungary to beg that the infant princess might be betrothed to his son, then eleven years of age. This counsel pleased the Landgrave well, and, as he now extolled the master's wisdom, Klingsohr began to discourse so beautifully of the secrets of nature, and of the macrocosm and the microcosm, that the Landgrave (himself not unversed in such matters) was filled with the profoundest admiration.

"'"Master Klingsohr," said the Landgrave, "I would fain continue in the enjoyment of your skilled and wise society. Leave the inhospitable Siebenbuergen, and take up your abode at this Court of mine, where, as you must admit, Art and Science are more highly prized and more truly cherished than elsewhere. The masters of song will look upon you as their lord, for I make no doubt that you are as highly gifted in their art as in astrology and other profound sciences. Remain here, therefore, and think not of returning to Siebenbuergen."

"'"Nay," most gracious Prince," said Master Klingsohr, "on the contrary, I must crave your permission to return to Siebenbuergen this very hour. The country is not so inhospitable as you may suppose. And then, it is thoroughly meet for my studies. Consider, moreover, that I may not offend my own king, Andreas the Second, from whom I draw a yearly allowance of three thousand silver marks, on account of my knowledge of mining matters, whereby I have discovered for him many most valuable lodes of metal; so that I live in that peace and freedom which are essential to the due cultivation of science and art. Whereas here--even could I forego my yearly allowance--I should be involved in continual questions and disputes with your masters. My art is based upon other foundations than theirs, and its inward and outward forms are totally different. It may be that their pious minds, and what they term their rich imaginations, suffice to them for the composition of their works, and that, like timid children, they are afraid to enter upon another province of their art. I do not say that I think slightingly of them on that account, but to take my place amongst them is for ever impossible."

"'"At all events," said the Landgrave, "you will consent to be present, as arbiter and judge, at the great contest between your pupil Heinrich of Ofterdingen and the other masters."

"'"Your Highness must pardon me," said Master Klingsohr. "How were it possible for me to do this thing? And even were it possible, I should never desire to do it. Yourself, noble Prince, should decide this contest, merely confirming the popular voice, which will assuredly make itself heard. But call not Heinrich of Ofterdingen my pupil. He seemed, at one time, to possess power and courage enough; but he merely gnawed at the bitter shell, and never got so far as to savour the sweetness of the kernel. Fix the day for the contest, therefore; I will take care that Heinrich of Ofterdingen appears with all due punctuality." The most urgent entreaties of the Landgrave were powerless to soften the master's obduracy. He stuck to his resolve, and left the Wartburg laden with rich reward.

"'The fateful day had arrived on which the singers'-contest was to begin and end. In the castle court lists had been set, almost as if for a tourney. In the centre of the arena there were two seats, draped with black, for the contending singers, and behind them a lofty scaffold. The Landgrave had chosen two noble gentlemen, versed in the singer's craft (they were the same who had escorted Master Klingsohr to the Wartburg), and appointed them arbiters. For them and the Landgrave lofty seats were erected over against those of the contending masters, and beside them were the places for the ladies and other spectators. The masters were to take their places on a bench draped with black, near the contending singers and the scaffold.

"'Thousands of spectators filled the space, and from all the windows and roofs of the Wartburg an eager throng looked down. The Landgrave, with the arbiters, entered by the castle gate, to the sound of trumpets and muffled drums, and took their seats. The masters, in habits of ceremony, headed by Walther of the Vogelweid, approached, and occupied the seats allotted to them. Upon the scaffold stood Stempel the executioner from Eisenach, with his attendants. He was a gigantic man, of wild, arrogant aspect, wrapped in a wide, blood-red mantle, from the folds of which peeped out the glittering hilt of his enormous sword. Father Leonard, the Landgrave's confessor, took his place in front of the scaffold, to stand by the vanquished in the hour of death.

"A silence of anticipation lay upon the vast assemblage, till the Landgrave's Marshal, wearing the insignia of his office, stepped forward to the centre of the arena, and read aloud the conditions of the contest, and the Landgrave's irreversible decree that he who was vanquished should have his head struck off by the sword. Father Leonard raised the crucifix, and all the masters rose from their seats, and on bended knees vowed, bareheaded, to submit, gladly and readily, to the Landgrave's decree. Stempel then swung his broad, flashing sword three times through the air, and cried, in a voice which echoed through the arena:

"'"Him who is delivered into my hands I will despatch according to the best of my power and conscience."

"'The trumpets now sounded; the Marshal advanced to the centre of the arena, and cried aloud, three times running:

"'"Heinrich of Ofterdingen! Heinrich of Ofterdingen! Heinrich of Ofterdingen!"

"And as though Heinrich had been standing unobserved close to the barriers, waiting till the sound of the Marshal's words should die away, he suddenly stood at his side, in the centre of the arena. He made a lowly reverence to the Landgrave, and said, in a firm voice, he was ready to contend, according to the decree, with the master appointed as his adversary, and to submit to the arbiters' award.

"The Marshal then passed along in front of the masters, holding a silver vase, out of which each of them had to draw a lot. When Wolfframb of Eschinbach unfolded that which he had drawn, he found it marked with the sign indicating that he was the master chosen for the contest. A deadly terror well-nigh unmanned him at the thought of having thus to enter upon a life-and-death contest with his friend. But soon he felt that it was of Heaven's mercy that the lot had fallen on him. If vanquished he would gladly die; but if victor, far sooner would he go to the death than suffer Heinrich of Ofterdingen to perish by the sword of the headsman. With a gladsome heart and a serene and pleasant countenance, he took his appointed place. When he had seated himself opposite to his friend, a strange feeling, akin to fear, took possession of him. For he was certainly looking upon the face of his friend; but out of the deadly pale countenance uncanny eyes were gleaming at him, and he could not help remembering Nasias.

"'Heinrich of Ofterdingen began his songs, and Wolfframb was greatly startled when he recognised them to be the same which Nasias had sung on the night when he came to him. But he collected himself with all his might, and replied to his antagonist with a magnificent song, in such sort that the acclamations of the thousand voices of the audience rang through the air, and the people at once accorded him the victory. But the Landgrave ordered that Heinrich of Ofterdingen should sing again, and Heinrich went on with songs which, in the marvellousness of their "manners," were so pregnant with the joy of the animalism of life, that the listeners sank into a species of gentle intoxication, as if under the influence of "the drowsy syrups of the East." Even Wolfframb felt himself drawn as into a foreign province of existence. He could think no more of his own songs, nor even of himself.

"At this moment a sound arose at the gate leading to the arena, and the crowd parted and made way. An electric stroke seemed to penetrate Wolfframb; he awoke from his reverie and looked in the direction of this interruption. Oh, Heaven! Lady Mathilda appeared, advancing in all the simple grace and beauty which had adorned her when first he saw her in the Wartburg garden. She looked at him with a glance of the deepest affection; and the blissfulness of heaven and the most glowing rapture soared jubilantly forth in ins song, as had been the case on the night when he vanquished the Evil Thing. With the stormiest enthusiasm the listeners proclaimed him the victor. The Landgrave and the arbiters rose, the trumpets sounded. The Marshal took the garland from the Landgrave's hand to crown the victorious master.

"Then the executioner prepared to do his duty. But when the apparitors went up to seize the vanquished singer, they found themselves grasping at a cloud of black smoke, which rose up, rushing and crackling and suddenly vanished in the air. Heinrich of Ofterdingen had disappeared, none knew how.

"'The crowd ran wildly hither and thither in confusion, with consternation and terror on their pale faces. People spoke of diabolical forms--of unholy enchantment; but the Landgrave assembled the masters around him, and said:

"'"I now understand what Master Klingsohr meant when he spoke so strangely and mysteriously on the subject of the singers' contest, and would on no account undertake the deciding of it himself; and I have cause to be grateful to him that all has turned out as it has. Whether it was Heinrich of Ofterdingen who took the place appointed for him in the arena, or one whom Klingsohr sent in his pupil's stead, matters not. The contest is decided in your favour, my trusty masters, and we can now honour the glorious craft of song, and cultivate it to the best of our ability in peace."

"'Certain of the Landgrave's retainers who had been on warders' duty at the castle said that, at the very time when Wolfframb of Eschinbach won the prize and conquered the ostensible Heinrich of Ofterdingen, a figure much resembling Master Klingsohr had been seen to dash out of the gateway on a foaming steed.

"'CONCLUSION.

"'Meanwhile Countess Mathilda had gone into the garden of the Wartburg, and Wolfframb of Eschinbach had followed her.

"'And when he found her there, seated on a flowery bank of moss, with hands folded in her lap and her lovely head drooping sadly towards the ground, he threw himself at her beloved feet, unable to utter a word. Mathilda put her arms about him, and both of them shed hot tears of sweet sorrow and lovers' pain.

"'"Ah! Wolfframb," she cried, "what an evil dream has befooled me! How have I, a foolish, unreasoning, blinded child, abandoned myself to the snares of the Evil One who was lying in wait to compass my destruction! Ah! how I have failed in my duty to you! Is it possible that you can pardon me?"

"'Wolfframb clasped her to his heart, and, for the first time, pressed burning kisses on her rosy lips. He assured her that she had always dwelt in his heart, that he had ever been faithful to her in spite of the powers of evil; that it was she, the lady of his thoughts, alone, who had been his inspiration in the song with which he vanquished them.

"'"Oh, my beloved!" she said, "let me tell you in what a wonderful manner you rescued me from the snares of the Wicked One which were set for me. There came a night, not very long ago, when strange and terrible ideas took hold upon me. Whether it was bliss or pain that so powerfully oppressed me that I scarce could breathe, I cannot tell. But, driven by an impulse which I could not resist, I began to write a song which was altogether in the 'manner' of my weird master. As I wrote, I heard a strange music, partly beautiful, partly repulsive and horrible, which benumbed my senses, and it was as if, instead of the song, what I had written was some terrible formula, some spell which the powers of darkness must obey. A wild, terrible form started up; it clasped me with burning arms, and was carrying me away to the black abyss. Then a song came shining through the darkness, whose tones had the mild, soft radiance of the light of stars. At this the dark form was compelled to loose its clasp of me, yet it stretched its arms towards me in fury. It could not touch me, but only the song I had been writing. It clutched that, and plunged screaming with it into the abyss. It was your song which saved me, the same which you sung to-day when you won the contest. Now I am wholly yours. My songs are all faithful love for you, whose inexpressible blissfulness no words have power to tell."

"'The lovers again fell into each other's arms, and could not cease talking of the tortures they had undergone, and the bliss of their reunion.

"'But in the night when Wolfframb overcame Nasias, Mathilda had distinctly heard, and comprehended--in a dream--the song which Wolfframb, in the height of his inspired affection, was singing; the one which he repeated afterwards at the Wartburg contest.

"'Wolfframb was sitting in his chamber at late eventide thinking of new songs, when his landlord Gottschalk came in full of joy, crying:

"'"Ah! noble sir, how you have vanquished the Evil One by the power of your art and skill! The horrible writing in your chamber has gone out of its own accord, God be praised and thanked for the same! I have brought something which was left at my house to be conveyed to you." With which he produced a folded letter, well sealed with wax. It was from Heinrich of Ofterdingen, and to the following effect.