The little household's only fare consisted of the milk of some goats, forest-fruits, and game. Zendelwald's mother was an accomplished sportswoman, and shot wild pigeons and grouse with the cross-bow as she pleased. She also caught trout in the brooks, and with her own hands repaired the little castle with stone and lime where it became decayed. At that moment she had just returned home with a hare which she had knocked over, and, as she hung the animal from the window of her high-perched kitchen, she gave another look out into the valley and saw her son riding along the road. She let down the drawbridge with joy, for he had been absent for months.
She at once began to enquire whether he had got hold of any tuft or feather of luck to bring home and make the most of, and, as he recounted the usual unprofitable experiences of his most recent campaign, she shook her head in wrath. But, when he came to tell her all about his mission to the rich and captivating Bertrade, and lauded her kindness and beauty, she scolded him for a lazy-bones and a faint-heart to run away so basely. She was not long in perceiving that Zendelwald could think of nothing else than the far-off lady, and she began to be downright impatient with him to think that with such a praiseworthy passion in his heart he failed utterly to make anything of it, since in his case to be so head and ears over in love was a hindrance rather than an incentive to action.
His days were not of the happiest. His mother was sulky with him, and in her irritation sought to divert herself by mending the damaged roof of the tower, so that the good Zendelwald was in fear and trembling as he saw her clambering about aloft. In her ill temper she would pitch down broken tiles, and wellnigh knocked out the brains of a stranger knight as he was about to enter the door to request a night's lodging.
The latter, however, managed to win the ungracious lady's friendship during supper, as he related many pleasant things, and in particular that the Emperor was then staying at the pretty widow's great castle where one feast was followed by another, and the fortunate lady was unceasingly besieged by the Emperor and his lords to choose a husband from among them. She, however, had found a way of evasion by convoking a great tournament and promising her hand to the victor, in the firm belief that her patron the Blessed Virgin would intervene and direct the arm of the right man, who was destined for her, to victory.
"Now, that would be something for you to try," the guest concluded, turning to Zendelwald; "such a handsome young knight ought to go straight for it and try to win the best fortune of these days, according to worldly estimation. Besides, it is commonly said that the lady hopes that in this way some unknown luck may turn up, perchance some poor but honest hero, whom she can kiss and coll, and that she has an aversion to all the great and famous counts and idle wooers."
When the stranger had ridden away, Zendelwald's mother said, "Now, I'll wager that no less a person than Bertrade herself sent that messenger to put you on the right track, my dear Zendelwald! It's as clear as daylight; what other business had the fellow, who has drunk our last flagon of wine, to bring him travelling in this forest?"
Her son began to laugh mightily at her words, and went on laughing more and more heartily, partly at the manifest impossibility of his mother's fancies, partly because he found those said fancies rather agreeable. The mere thought that Bertrade could possibly wish to take possession of him kept him laughing uncontrollably. But his mother, who thought that he was laughing in derision of her, flew into a rage, and cried, "Listen! My curse be upon you if you do not obey me and set out on your way at once to win that fortune. Do not come back without it, else I never wish to see you again! Or, if you do come back, I'll take my bow and arrows and go out to seek a grave where I can have peace from your stupidity!"
So now Zendelwald had no choice; for the sake of peace and quietness, he furbished his weapons, sighing the while, and rode as Heaven might guide him in the direction of Bertrade's dwelling, without being convinced that he should really go there. Nevertheless he stuck pretty close to the road, and the nearer he came to his destination, the more clearly the thought took shape that, after all, he might undertake the adventure as well as another, and that, when he had settled matters with his rivals, it would not cost him his head to try conclusions with the fair lady. The adventure now developed stage by stage in his mind, and came to the happiest issue; indeed, all day long, as he rode through the green summer landscape, he held sweet dialogues with his beloved, in which he told her most beautiful conceits, so that her face became rosy for gratification and joy--all this in his imagination.
As he was in the act of inwardly depicting one more happy event, he saw in good earnest, on a distant blue ridge, the towers and battlements of the castle shining in the morning sun, with its gilded balustrades gleaming from afar, and was so startled at the sight that all the fabric of his dreams was dissolved, and left nothing but a faint, irresolute heart behind.
Involuntarily he reined in his horse and looked around, as laggards will, for a place of refuge. Whereupon he became aware of a pretty little church, the same which Bertrade had once built to the Mother of God, and in which she had slept that sleep. He at once resolved to go in and collect his thoughts somewhat before the altar, the more so as it was the day on which the tournament was to be held.