“It is,” said Friedel, thoughtfully.
“Ah, rash bloods, promising beyond what ye can keep. Nature will be too strong for you. Love your mother as ye may, what will she be to you when a bride comes in your way? Fling not away in wrath, Sir Baron; it was so with your parents both before you; and what said the law of the good God at the first marriage? How can you withstand the nature He has given?”
“Belike I may wed,” said Ebbo, bluntly; “but if it be not for my mother’s happiness, call me man-sworn knight.”
“Not so,” good-humouredly answered Gottfried, “but boy-sworn paladin, who talks of he knows not what. Speak knightly truth, Sir Baron, and own that this opposition is in verity from distaste to a stepfather’s rule.”
“I own that I will not brook such rule,” said Ebbo; “nor do I know what we have done to deserve that it should be thrust on us. You have never blamed Friedel, at least; and verily, uncle, my mother’s eye will lead me where a stranger’s hand shall never drive me. Did I even think she had for this man a quarter of the love she bears to my dead father, I would strive for endurance; but in good sooth we found her in tears, praying us to guard her from him. I may be a boy, but I am man enough to prevent her from being coerced.”
“Was this so, Friedel?” asked Master Gottfried, moved more than by all that had gone before. “Ach, I thought ye all wiser. And spake she not of Sir Kasimir’s offers?—Interest with the Romish king?—Yea, and a grant of nobility and arms to this house, so as to fill the blank in your scutcheon?”
“My father never asked if she were noble,” said Ebbo. “Nor will I barter her for a cantle of a shield.”
“There spake a manly spirit,” said his uncle, delighted. “Her worth hath taught thee how little to prize these gewgaws! Yet, if you look to mingling with your own proud kind, ye may fall among greater slights than ye can brook. It may matter less to you, Sir Baron, but Friedel here, ay, and your sons, will be ineligible to the choicest orders of knighthood, and the canonries and chapters that are honourable endowments.”
Friedel looked as if he could bear it, and Eberhard said, “The order of the Dove of Adlerstein is enough for us.”
“Headstrong all, headstrong all,” sighed Master Gottfried. “One romantic marriage has turned all your heads.”