"Then, the princess knew that he was really and truly King Rother of Vikingland, and she uttered a loud cry of delight, which attracted her Father Constantine thitherwards; and whether he liked it or not, he could do nothing but join the lover's hands. The messengers never went back to their dungeon; Rother was no longer called Dietrich, and he kissed his bride and took her home over the seas, and became a very happy man, holding his wife in great honour. And whenever they sat lovingly together, they would say: 'Thanks be to God, to knightly valour, and prudent waiting-woman's cunning.'
"That is the story of King Rother!"
Praxedis had spoken a long while.
"We are well satisfied," said the Duchess, "and whether smith Weland will carry off the prize, after King Rother's history has been told, seems to me rather doubtful."
Master Spazzo was not annoyed at this.
"The waiting-women at Constantinople, seem to have eaten wisdom with spoons," said he. "But although I may be conquered, the last tale has not yet been told." He glanced over at Ekkehard who was sitting lost in thought. He had not heard much of King Rother. All the time that Praxedis had been speaking, his eyes had been fixed on the Duchess's headband with the rose in it.
"To say the truth," continued Master Spazzo, "I hardly believe the story. Some years ago, when I was sitting in the bishop's courtyard at Constance, drinking a jug of wine, a Greek pedlar, trafficking with relics, came that way. His name was Daniel, and he had many holy bones and church-ornaments, and the like articles, amongst which there was also an ancient sword, with jewel-set hilt, which he tried to foist on me, saying, that it was the sword of King Rother, and if the gold crowns had not then been as scanty with me, as the hairs on the pedlar's pate, I should have bought it. The man told me that Sir Rother had fought for the Emperor's daughter with that very same sword, with King Ymelot of Babylon, but of golden shoes, waiting-women or harp-playing, he knew nothing whatever."
"I dare say that many things might still be found in this world, which you know nothing about," lightly said Praxedis.
The evening had set in. The moon had risen, shedding her pale light over hills and plain. Strong fragrant perfumes filled the air, and the fireflies were getting ready for flight, in the bushes and crevices of the rocks round about.
A servant came down with some lights, which, being surrounded by linen, saturated with oil, burned brightly and steadily. The air was mild and pleasant.