[Covering his face with his hands.]
[Exit, left, hastily.]
[Exit, left.]
ACT III.
Scene.—A clearing in the forest near Aquisgranum. At the back, amid trees, a charcoal-burner's hut and a kiln. On the left a linden and copse leading to a grove once sacred to heathen deities; but now feared and shunned. On the right a barricade of logs and fallen trees so placed in one part to form steps. Ernst advances from his kiln, looks over the barricade as though expecting some one. He is joined by Guta who comes out of the hut.
Ernst. 'Tis mild for harvest-moon and yet the wind's
Unsettled, portending what? How strange the snow
That came so suddenly then disappeared
As some night wraith that fears clear-visioned day. Guta. The Devil must have pinched his wife she dropped
Such frozen tears. 'Tis most unfair that when
She's disciplined poor folk should feel so oft
The dripping moisture of her grief; 'tis bad
For rheumatism. Ernst. And good for forest trees.
The witch deserves to spill some tears, she has
So often damaged them; what branches crunch
And fall, when she, amount her broomstick, rides
A gale through serpent-hissing, midnight skies. Guta. And so thou'rt in the skies and never wilt
Thou heed my limping gait, that cries a life
In town, some gaiety before a coffin
Completes this stiffening. Ernst. And leave our home?
Guta. That hovel! Ernst. What could I do?
Guta. Thou might'st instruct
The palace school, save Master Eginhardt
These many visits here. Ernst. If I had been
A cleric, had learnt to read and write, maybe,
May be— Guta. Thou hast a head well stacked with knowledge.
Do books all boast as much? 'Tis odd that thou,
A peasant, hast such stuff within, that courtiers
Must come to pump it out then serve it for
The King. Ernst. The King loves ancient hero-tales.
A proper King! a proper Emperor!
What's more, a proper man. I wonder why
Good Master Eginhardt delays; I promised
Some verse, it quivers on my lips. That's just
The way, he comes when I am disinclined
And now he dallies. Guta. Last night I dreamt of death,
Royal mourners wailed. In fright I woke. The wind
Blew fluted dirge-like notes; but dreams are ay
Contrariwise. Most like 'twas wedding bells.
I wish good Master Eginhardt would come;
I thirst to hear Court gossip, e'en the bits
He doles with grudging tongue. And he could tell
Us of the long-nosed beast with dragon skin
That I so dread, yet wish to see. Ernst. A crackling!
Hist! but not our scholar's steed, nor yet
A wandering huntsman's. Such a footfall, quiet
And even, forewarns at least a Bishop's palfrey.
As I'm alive 'tis Father Hildebold;
Who now dismounts and ties his horse. [He mounts the
barricade and stoops to help Hildebold up.] The steps
Are steep so have a care. We welcome you.
[Enter Hildebold, appearing over the barricade.]
[After helping him, the peasants kneel to receive a
blessing.]
[Exit with Ernst who soon returns. Guta mutters