"I know your lovely daughter quite well, Master Martin," answered Conrad unconcernedly; "and I tell you she is the most glorious lady that walks the earth, and would to heaven that she would permit her most devoted servitor to be her Paladin!"
Master Martin held his sides. He nearly suffocated himself before he made way for his laughter by dint of wheezing and coughing. He then managed to get out a "Good! very good! my dear young sir. Take my little girl Rosa for a lady of quality, if you will, but just get back to your work at the bench there."
Conrad stood rooted to the spot with eyes fixed on the ground; rubbed his forehead, and said softly, "So I must." He did as he was ordered. Rosa sat down on a small barrel, as she usually did when she came to the workshop. Reinhold and Friedrich brought this barrel forward for her as they were wont to do; and then they sang together (as Master Martin bade them) the pretty song in which Conrad had interrupted them. The latter went on with his task, silent and thoughtful. When the song was ended Master Martin said, "Heaven has endowed you two dear lads with a precious gift. You have no idea how much I honour the glorious Art of Song. In fact I once wanted to be a Master-singer myself. But it wouldn't do. I could make nothing of it, try as hard as I might. With all my endeavours I earned nothing but derision and jesting, when I tried my hand at the master-singing. I always made wrong 'annexations' or too many syllables, In fact there was always something askew with it. Well, well! you will make a better job of it. What the master couldn't manage, his men will. Next Sunday there will be a master-singing at the usual time, after noonday service, at Saint Catherine's Church; and there you two, Reinhold and Friedrich, may gain praise and honour by means of your beautiful art. For before the head-singing, a free-singing will be holden, open to strangers, at which you may try your skill. Now, Herr Conrad" (Master Martin called over to the planing bench), "mightn't you mount the singing stool too, and treat them to that beautiful hunting song of yours?"
"Don't jest, good master," answered Conrad, without looking up; "there's a place and time for everything: while you are edifying yourself at the Master-singing, I shall go in search of my own pleasure, to the Common Meadow."
Things turned out as Master Martin had expected. Reinhold mounted the singing stool and sang songs, which could not be classified as being any special "tones" or "manners," but which delighted all the Master-singers, albeit they were of opinion that, though the singer committed no actual errors, yet a certain "outlandish," or foreign style, which they could not quite define themselves, somewhat detracted from their merit. Soon after, Friedrich seated himself on the singing stool, took off his barret, and, after looking before him for a second or two, cast a glance at the assembly (which darted through Rosa's heart like a glowing arrow, so that she could not help sighing deeply), then began such a glorious song, in the tender "tone" of Heinrich Frauenlob, that all the masters declared unanimously that none of them could surpass this young journeyman.
When evening came, and the singing was over, Master Martin, by way of thoroughly completing the enjoyment of the day, betook himself with Rosa to the Common Meadow. Reinhold and Friedrich were allowed to go with them. Rosa walked between the two. Friedrich, in a state of great glorification by reason of the praise of the Master-singers, ventured, in the intoxication of his blissfulness, on many a daring word, which Rosa, drooping her eyes modestly, did not seem to wish to hear. She turned the rather to Reinhold, who, after his wont, chattered and made many a lively jest and sally, not hesitating to sling his arm round one of hers. When they came where the young men were engaged in divers athletic sports (some of them of knightly sort), they heard the people crying, over and over again, "He has won again!--nobody can stand before him! There! he wins again!--that strong one!" When Master Martin had pressed his way through the crowd, he found that all this shouting and acclamation were to the address of none other than his own journeyman, Conrad, who had excelled everybody at running, boxing, and throwing the javelin. Just as Master Martin came on the scene, Conrad was challenging all-comers to a bout of fencing with blunted rapiers, and several young patrician "bloods," skilled at this exercise, accepted; but he very soon conquered them all, with little difficulty, so that there was no end to the laudation of his strength and skill.
The sun had set; the evening sky was glowing red, and the twilight rapidly falling. Master Martin, Rosa, and the two journeymen had seated themselves beside a plashing fountain. Reinhold told many delightful things concerning far-away Italy; but Friedrich gazed, silent and happy, into Rosa's beautiful eyes. Then Conrad approached, with slow and hesitating steps, as if he had not quite made up his mind whether to join the others or not. So Master Martin called out: "Come along, come along, Conrad! You have held your own bravely; just as I like my journeymen to do. Don't be bashful, my lad; you have my full permission." Conrad flashed a penetrating glance at the master, who was nodding to him condescendingly, and said, in a hollow tone: "So far, I have not asked your permission whether I might join you or not. On the whole, it was not to you that I was thinking whether I should come, or otherwise. I have laid all my opponents prostrate in the dust in knightly play, and what I wanted to do was to ask this beautiful lady if she would not mind giving me, as my guerdon, those flowers which she wears in her breast." With which Conrad knelt on one knee before Rosa, looked her honestly in the face with his clear brown eyes, and petitioned, "Give me the flowers, if you will be so kind, fair Rosa; you can hardly refuse me." Rosa at once took the flowers from her breast, and gave them to him, saying, with a smile, "I am sure such a doughty knight deserves a prize of honour from a woman; so take my flowers, although they are beginning to wither a little." Conrad kissed them, and placed them in his barret cap; but Master Martin rose up crying, "Stupid stuff and nonsense! Let's get away home; it'll soon be dark." Martin walked first; Conrad, in a courtier-like fashion, gave Rosa his arm, and Reinhold and Friedrich brought up the rear, not in the best of temper. The people who met them stopped and looked after them, saying:
"Ey! look there!--that is Master Martin, the rich cooper, with his pretty daughter and his fine journeymen; happy folks, these, I can tell you!"
HOW FRAU MARTHA CONVERSED WITH ROSA ABOUT THE THREE JOURNEYMEN.
CONRAD'S QUARREL WITH MASTER MARTIN.
Young girls are wont to live over again all the enjoyments of a festal day, in detail, on the subsequent morning, and this secondary feast seems then almost more delicious to them than the original itself. Thus did the fair Rosa sit pondering on the subsequent morning alone in her chamber, with her hands folded in her lap, and her head hung down in reverie, letting spindle and needle-work rest. Probably she was mentally listening again to Reinhold and Friedrich's singing, and again watching the athletic Conrad vanquishing his adversaries, and receiving from her the victor's prize. Now and then she would hum a line or two of some song; then she would say, "My flowers, do you want?" and then a deeper crimson mantled in her cheeks; flashes darted through her half-closed eyelids, faint sighs stole forth from her innermost breast.