And now a splendid scene opened to view in the territories of Frederic with the bitten cheek. No sooner each day had the bells rung out the hour of prime, than the trumpet sounded to proclaim the challenge of the yellow knight, and the promise of the margrave of Misnia, that the successful champion of the fair Brunilda should obtain her hand for his reward. Day after day did some knight essay the adventure; and day after day did the noble Margaret enter the lists, attended by her lovely daughter, who looked through her fan of peacock’s feathers, as charming, and carried herself as “daintily,” as whilom did the beauteous Esther, when she entered into the presence of the loving Ahasuerus. But not like that beautiful daughter of the scorners of pork did she obtain her petition; for day after day was she compelled to witness the ruin of her hopes in the repeated triumphs of the yellow Haman over her own black, brown, or party-coloured champions: knight after knight fell beneath his ponderous arm, and were obliged to resign their claims to the fair Brunilda, to her infinite regret, and their bitter mortification. Already had the counts of Wartzburg, Oettingen, Henneberg, Hanau, and Conrad of Reida, been compelled to acknowledge the superiority of his powerful arm, when the arrival of the handsome knight of Tecklenburgh, who just came in time to hear a week’s rest proclaimed, in order to gain time for the approach of other knights from the most distant parts of Germany to the aid of the endangered princess, revived the hopes of Brunilda. He came, he saw, he conquered—not the sword of the yellow champion, but the heart of the charming princess, which was formed of too tender materials to hold out against so well-looking and redoubted a warrior: she fell instantly in love with him to distraction, and he, on his part, was too well bred to be behind-hand. In the extravagance of her fondness, she thought all things possible to her lover, and made no doubt that he would be victorious in the combat. Ludolph was precisely of the same opinion, and to manifest its justice, was most irritably impatient for the day of combat, which was still at the distance of several halting sun-risings and sun-settings, which that long-legged old ragamuffin Time did not carry off, in the opinion of the lovers, quite so rapidly as he ought to have done.
But it came at last, that day, that morning of miracles; it came, and brought nothing with it to daunt the brave spirit of the knight of Tecklenburgh. Light as the plume in his casque, gay as the colours of his harness, he entered the lists, and gallantly opposed his person against the ponderous carcase of the yellow-coloured champion. Blow after blow was freely given, and as freely received, till the spectators began to doubt whether either of the men before them was really made of flesh and blood. Proof decisive, however, was soon given, for the sword of Ludolph cleft the helmet of his antagonist, and dashed his weapon from his hand, so that, defenceless and at the mercy of his conqueror, he yielded up his claim to victory, and was content to beg his life. The acclamations of the people proved to Ludolph the difficulty of the conquest he had just achieved. The nobles were all anxious to testify their esteem and admiration, though some in their hearts were bursting with envy, and felt themselves almost choked by the fine things they thought it necessary to utter. Ludolph took them all in good faith with perfect confidence in their sincerity, for he was too happy and too honest to suspect; and then turning to the poor champion, whom he hardly allowed time to recover breath, recommended him to return to his little lord, and bear his defiance, as he should quietly wait to fulfil the last condition ere he received the hand of the beautiful Brunilda. The Yellow Champion took the advice thus kindly offered him, and quitted the palace of Erfurt, leaving his conqueror busy enough in accepting those disinterested professions of service which are seldom offered except to those who do not want them, or from whom an adequate return may not unreasonably be expected.
Ludolph waited with great impatience the Dwarf’s reply to his challenge. His time was passed, meanwhile, in making love to the princess (who on her part was tolerably well disposed to listen to him), and laying up a stock of devotion, by prayer and fasting, to serve, as occasion should warrant, in the approaching combat with the demon, of whose power he had formed other notions, since his residence in the Misnian court, than either thinking him so harmless or so insignificant as he had formerly done. But the days rolled on, and no dwarf appeared. Margaret, who sincerely admired the valour of Ludolph, was anxious to end his suspense, and Brunilda’s terrors, by uniting him at once to her daughter, without waiting for the presence of the Lord of the Orange Tree, of whom she could never think without shuddering; but the margrave, who, much as he loved his sister and her noble deliverer, was too much of a gentleman to break his word, even with a dwarf, determined they should stay the full time allotted by the demon. The latter was too gallant, and too much in love with the princess, to forget his engagement, and accordingly one morning, as the trumpets were sounding the usual summons to the lists, the Dwarf himself entered them in his customary dress, mounted upon a yellow steed, and surrounded by a large troop of knights in his colours. The nobles and ladies of the margrave’s court, struck by the oddity of his appearance, entirely forgot their politeness, and burst into as hearty and unanimous a laugh as ever was heard in our lower House at any of Joe H—’s blunders. But it was no laughing matter to Brunilda: she saw, for the first time, her intended husband, and she felt that his ugliness even exceeded her mother’s report, and heaven knows that had not been flattering. She cast a look of tender entreaty upon Ludolph, who, impatient to punish his rival and relieve her anxiety, couched his lance, and spurred forward to meet the demon, who, not to be behind-hand in courtesy, advanced to receive him. But the knight suddenly sprung back, on observing the singular dress of his adversary, the extraordinary lightness of those accoutrements struck him with astonishment. “Sir knight of the Orange Tree,” said he, “except the lance in your hand and the sword in your belt, I see no sort of preparation for a combat; sheathe your person in harness, I pray you, that so at least the chances may be more equal between us.” “What is that to thee?” replied the Dwarf; “it is my pleasure to fight in these garments: thief as thou art, conquer me in them if thou canst. For thee, sweet lady, I am here, to prove my right to thy hand, to rescue it from this craven, and fear not but I shall deserve it: my palace is ready, thy dowry is ready, and twice a thousand slaves wait to obey thy wishes.” Ludolph could not endure this insolence, so rushing forward as the yellow knights retired from the person of their leader, he began a most furious attack upon the animal who pretended to rival him in the affections of his lady. Alas! poor Brunilda! if she had trembled before, during the combats with the yellow knight, what anxiety must not have filled her bosom now! The lances were soon shivered to pieces: the champions drew their swords, but seemed to make very little impression with them. Ludolph had not yet received a wound, and yellow-jacket seemed determined to make good his boast, and hold the knight of Tecklenburgh a tug. Vain was all the skill and strength of the latter; though he struck with all his might and main, and heart and soul, he could not cut through a single hair of the Dwarf’s long beard, which seemed to wag at him in derision. Poor Brunilda sat as uneasily upon her canopied throne as if she had been upon a bed of nettles. She prayed to all the saints in heaven, and St. Henry the Limper in particular, to assist her dear knight in this terrible combat: but St. Henry the Limper was not in good humour, or was otherwise engaged, for he did not appear to pay the least attention to her request, and Ludolph was left to fight it out by himself as he could. In truth, he did not want inclination to put an end to the business. After pegging and poking at every inch of the Dwarf’s invulnerable carcass, he espied a little unguarded spot on the left side of his throat, exactly open to his right hand. Delighted by the prospect of slicing off his ragamuffin head, he aimed a mighty blow with all his force, which the little demon parried; he struck a second with no better success; but the third was triumphant, for it sent the yellow head flying from his shoulders, and bounding to another part of the area. The knight leaped from his saddle to seize the head and hold it up to the view of the people; but in this race, to his horror, he was outstripped by the Dwarf himself, who likewise, darting from his horse, flew to the head, grasped it firmly, gave it a shake, clapped it upon his shoulders, and fixed it again as firmly and steadily as ever. Then, ere the spectators could recover from the stupor into which this unexpected contretemps had thrown them, he struck the staring Ludolph to the ground, seized the princess by her flowing locks, swung her behind him, and bolted out of the area. His knights wheeled round to follow him, but the Misnian nobles, recovering from their confusion, surrounded them with drawn swords, and began a desperate battle, in which it appeared they clearly had the worst, only hacking and hewing each other; for the knights, squires, pages, and horses of the enemy suddenly vanished from their sight, and in their places appeared a waggon load of oranges bowling and rolling about the area in the most amusing manner possible. It was some time ere the nobles could direct their attention to the unfortunate count of Tecklenburgh, who, stunned by the blow given to him as the parting blessing of the spiteful Dwarf, was lying insensible on the ground: the moment he recovered, he declared his intention of pursuing the enemy, in which he was seconded by all the knights present, who, headed by Margaret as guide and commander, resolved to storm the Orange Tree itself, and liberate the captive damsel. They set forward with great courage and in good order; but they might just as effectively have stayed at home, for, after wandering about the forest for three days, they returned crestfallen enough, not only being unable to discover the Orange Tree, but even the plain in which it stood! Poor Ludolph, whom the princes had vainly endeavoured to comfort with the assurance that he had fairly gained the victory, though he had lost the fruit of it, did not return with them. They lost him from their company the first day of their search, and they firmly and devoutly believed the yellow devil had hooked him also in his infernal claws. Margaret gave herself up to grief, and her sons, finding nothing else was to be done, endeavoured to forget theirs in the bustle of the approaching war.
CHAPTER III.
Ha!—such a pair!
S. Dro. I, Sir, am Dromio! command him away.
E. Dro. I, Sir, am Dromio; pray let me stay.
In the meantime Brunilda was jogging on at no easy rate behind the Yellow Dwarf, who, when arrived at the Orange Tree, opened the trunk by a sign, and, dismounting, bore his lovely burden into it. She felt herself, immediately after, descending a flight of steps, which, from the duration of time, appeared to be endless. They did terminate, however, at last, and the Dwarf, placing her roughly upon her feet, retired swiftly from the place, closing the entrance at the bottom of the stairs carefully after him. It was some time after his departure ere Brunilda took courage to open her eyes and look around her; when she did, she found herself in a subterraneous apartment as large as the bed-chamber of the empress Constance. [64] Every article about it was of silver, and there was a magnificence about this underground palace, which made her conclude it to be the castle and principal residence of her intended husband, the Yellow Dwarf, whose company she did not covet, and who, to do him justice, did not appear to torment her. Food was supplied, and every attention paid to her wishes by many attendants of both sexes, who, however, never exchanged one single word in her hearing. Wearied out by this continual taciturnity, she began to wish for the sound of a human voice, and, thinking she might probably learn something of the Dwarf’s intentions from himself, she one day instead of questioning her dumb attendants as usual about her lover, demanded some tidings of their master. “He cannot approach your presence, madam,” replied one of the mutes, breaking his hateful silence, “unless you request his appearance. A mighty spirit, one of the enemies of my master’s and your felicity, has contrived this misfortune by his spells, but if you command it, he is permitted to attend you.” Brunilda, who, in giving this required permission, never dreamed of any thing more than making inquiries after her family and lover, was confounded to hear the Dwarf, with the most rapturous impertinence, volubly thank her for this approval of his, and generous acknowledgment of her passion. Putting aside his long beard lest it should throw him down, he knelt fantastically at her feet, seized her white hand, and declared himself the happiest of all demon-born beings. It was in vain that Brunilda reasoned, entreated, and scolded: he protested he was satisfied with the proofs she had given of her love, and, in order to spare her modesty the pain of appearing to yield too soon, he should put a gentle restraint upon her liberty, and not suffer her to quit his palace till she became his wife. At this avowal the poor princess grew outrageous; she asked the little monster how he had dared to select a princess of her exalted rank to share his hole under ground, and burrow like rats in the earth? why he had not rather chosen some humble cast-away maiden, who, having nothing in the world to lose, might be contented out of it? “Rank!” replied the irritated little demon, “and what is this rank of which you are so vain? An imaginary splendour bestowed upon some men by the cringing servility of others,—the weak fancy that decks one with this supremacy, gives birth to the slavish fear that ensures to him its possession. Rank!” continued the atrabilious little viper, swelling into a respectable width by the overflowing of his angry venom, “rank! it is power gained by force, won by the sword, by fraud, by oppression! The strongest is the noblest; and if so I am more than your equal beautiful Brunilda, for, princess as you are, you are my captive and I am your master.” Brunilda wept at this insolence, and, like all who know not how to controvert what they yet cannot bear to acknowledge, hated the Dwarf more than ever, and resolved to prove it by seizing every opportunity of annoying him. With laudable intention, she renewed the attack by commenting with great severity upon his frightful little person: she sneered at his long beard, short legs, and large head. She demanded if he had ever looked in a mirror, and, if he had, how he could presume to imagine he could captivate any woman under such a detestable form? In no age have ugly people borne to be laughed at, for, however hideous they may happen to be, they seldom find it out themselves, and are in consequence, very much surprised and offended when informed of it by others; and, as vanity is usually the reigning passion of the most disfigured, they seldom pardon an offence which is mortal. The Dwarf, the ugliest animal the eyes of Brunilda had ever encountered, could hardly believe this possible, and saw no joke in her mirth at his expense, and, as he had his full share of that precious commodity, vanity, he raved, stormed, and became so insolent, that Brunilda was compelled to order him out of her presence. This command, which he was obliged to obey, irritated the little creature to madness, and he swore, that, since he could not enter her presence without her permission, he would find a mode of making her give it whenever he should condescend to require it. This threat had more of truth in it than Brunilda imagined. A few days after this animated conversation, the Dwarf sent to ask leave to be allowed to pay his visit to the princess, which was immediately refused. This threw him into a rage, and he informed the princess by one of his mutes, “that her lover Ludolph of Tecklenburgh was in his power, and that his head should pay for the scorn with which she thought proper to treat her lord and husband.” Poor Brunilda hastily gave the required permission, upon condition that Ludolph should accompany him; and her “lord and husband,” as he styled himself entered, a few moments after, followed by the knight, whom his demons had seized in the forest. “There, madam,” said he, grinning like Grimaldi, but not so merrily, “I found this stranger in the neighbourhood of my Orange Tree, and I have brought him hither to secure a welcome for myself. Did I not tell you I would make you glad to receive me? Here shall this valorous knight remain, a hostage for your good behaviour; and never shall you receive him without admitting me at the same moment.” Brunilda, who would have been delighted, in her present condition, to have seen any human being whatever, was in raptures at the sight of Ludolph, who, on his part, was content with his captivity, since he shared it with her; and, unrestrained by the presence of the Dwarf, they so often and so tenderly repeated their mutual delight to each other, that the grim jailer could not endure the sight of their happiness, and rather than witness it, withdrew himself and Ludolph from the company of Brunilda, which he did not again seek for some time. When attended by Ludolph, he next entered her apartment, his jealous tortures were increased by the renewed endearments of the lovers, and resolving in his own mind not to endure what he flattered himself he could easily remedy, he threw a spell over the unlucky Brunilda, which he generously hoped would destroy all the little tranquillity she enjoyed. The charm operated upon the sight of the princess, who no longer beheld her lover, but a hideous negro advancing towards her. Brunilda was terrified, but, reassured by the explanation of the Dwarf, who felicitated himself on her mortification, she resolved to punish him in kind; so collecting all the woman in her soul, and conquering her dislike of the ugly shape he presented to her, she gave it a most affectionate welcome, and caressed it as her dear Ludolph. The Dwarf would willingly have annihilated him; but obliged to keep him in existence to ensure himself admittance to Brunilda, he resolved to embitter that existence as much as lay in his power, and having once more recourse to his spells, the handsome Ludolph, unchanged to himself, appeared to the eyes of the fascinated princess a furious and monstrous tiger, armed with tremendous fangs and claws. But love penetrates all disguises, and the princess was now a match for the sorcerer. She knew that the fangs and claws, however terrible to others, had no danger for her, and she suffered him to lie at her feet, kiss her snowy hand, and put his shaggy head upon her lap, without manifesting the slightest apprehension, to the great annoyance of the Dwarf, whose dull wit was sharpened by his jealousy, and he now contrived the master-piece of spells, to the increased misery of poor Brunilda, over whose clouded senses the charm once more operating, presented her beloved Ludolph only under the form of the Yellow Dwarf himself. This transformation was horrible to both the sufferers, for each of the figures maintained that he was the knight, and persisted in execrating the other as the impostor, while Brunilda, wearied with gazing on their hateful countenances, dared not afford the slightest notice to either, lest she should bestow the tenderness designed for Ludolph upon his detestable rival. In vain did she weep, threaten, and supplicate the Dwarf to give her lover “any shape but that.” She knew not even to which of the pair she ought to address her petition. But the demon was inexorable, listened unmoved to her sorrows, for his heart was as hard as Pharaoh’s, and even inwardly laughed at her agonies. In vain did she examine their features in the hope of discovering some slight difference that might point out her lover: both grinned the same ghastly smile,—both exhibited the same unvarying ugliness of feature. Alas, poor Brunilda! Lavater himself could not have assisted thee, though, hadst thou lived in our days, or Dr. Spurzheim in thine, some professional examination of the cerebral organisation of the two dwarfs might have set the question at rest. Doubtless some bump extraordinary, some wonderful dilation of the organ of self-esteem in the skull of the true dwarf, or amativeness or combativeness in that of the false one, might have aided thee to discover the brutified soul confined in the brutified body. But, as it was, they were both brutes to Brunilda, and, as she had no wish to charm the Yellow Dwarf, she wept her disappointment incessantly. Nor was Ludolph less busy than the princess in employing threats and prayers by turns to mollify the Dwarf, though one was to as little purpose as the other, in the presence of the princess. The cunning demon reiterated the same whining petition, used the same arguments, and denounced the same vengeance as the unhappy Ludolph; and when retired from her apartment, laughed at his success, and defiance. It was in vain that Ludolph accused him of having broken all the laws of chivalry, held even by demons so sacred. He told him he regarded no laws, except those which he had made himself. It was to no purpose he argued his right to be set at liberty at least. The Dwarf, who was a philosopher in his way, replied that men had no rights, and that “might,” which he possessed, was a much better argument, and a more effective weapon. All this was unluckily true, but it did not convince the Westphalian. Zeno, the stoic, said, “that we had two ears, and but one tongue, that we might hear much and say little.” It was a wise observation, and happy are those that profit thereby: our two captives might, if they had had the good luck ever to have heard it; but as they had not, they acted directly counter, for they so heartily used their two tongues, and so entirely spared their four ears, that their jailer grew outrageous, and therefore, except when he went to torment Brunilda, he resolved to free himself from the society of the count of Tecklenburgh, who paid for his garrulity by being condemned to talk to himself in one of the most dreary dungeons of the cavern. Here he had full leisure to think of his misfortunes, and execrate the contriver of them. He prayed night and morning with all the strength of lungs he could command, to all the saints in the calendar, to give him a lift out of this purgatory. He was too good a Christian not to abhor all thought of magic; but, finding how little notice was taken of his petition by the higher powers, he could not help thinking of the lower, and wishing and vowing, that if some sorcerer, witch, or even devil, would but come to his assistance now, he would find time enough for repentance hereafter, and heal his conscience, and propitiate Heaven by many good deeds to be done in perspective. “I would walk to Jerusalem, for a penance,” said he, “or give the spoils I shall take in my next battle to the church, or I would, when I shall be able, endow an abbey. Either of these designs would be satisfactory,” continued he, “and oh that I had the good luck to be able to put them into execution! Oh that some friendly spirit, some gnome of these caverns, or demon of this forest, would but come to my assistance!” No sooner said than done: the sinner trembled at the instant fulfilment of his wicked wish, and began with real alarm to suspect that he was a bit of a conjurer himself; for there arose in a moment, from the bosom of the earth, a gigantic dusky-looking figure in the human shape, inquiring his commands. “I could not come to your assistance,” said the object, “till you summoned me, or you should not have suffered so long. I am the mortal foe of the Yellow Dwarf, and the legitimate prince of these mines, into which he has intruded himself, during my absence on a short journey I made to the centre. He has fixed himself pretty firmly in my palace by his spells, but I shall contrive to dispossess him. I will begin by assisting you; speak, knight of Tecklenburgh, how can I serve you?” Ludolph, who, recovered from his first fright, desired nothing better, immediately struck a bargain with the friendly gnome; the first article of which was, that he should liberate himself and the princess. “I can free you instantly,” replied the gnome, “but the spells around the princess are too powerful to be suddenly broken; nevertheless, with your help it may finally be done. We must possess ourselves of the charm in which lies the power of the Dwarf, this, unfortunately, is his beard; for it will be a work of difficulty to master it. Could you, in your combat, have cut off that, instead of his head, all would have been well: but, as long as that beard hangs to his chin, his body is invulnerable, for, cut him into fifty pieces and he will unite together again. Notwithstanding all these difficulties, observe faithfully all my directions, and, ultimately we may accomplish our wishes. Beneath those mountains of Bohemia which bound the marquisate of Misnia, there is a diamond mine, as yet unknown to the human race, whose sacrilegious hands have not there torn open the heart of their mother earth and disturbed the spirits who sleep in her bosom. There, concealed many fathoms beneath the mountain, has been hidden for centuries the magic weapon which alone can conquer the Yellow Dwarf. It is that identical pair of scissors with which the demon Fate cuts asunder your mortal destinies; these, and these only, can secure our enemy. It will be in vain to cut off his head so long as he retains his beard, and that beard is unapproachable, except to the magic scissors of fate: the chief difficulty will be in obtaining possession of this wonderful instrument, since only a knight of unstained loyalty, pure, spotless, free from taint of libertinism, drunkenness, and bloodshed, can take them from the hands of the statue which holds them, without incurring the severe penalty of instant death. When such a knight shall be found, the scissors must be put into the hands of a spotless virgin, for only such can use them in cutting off the formidable beard; should any other woman attempt it, the inevitable consequences would be also death from the scissors themselves.” Poor Ludolph was as much depressed by the end of this discourse as he had been elevated by the beginning. Such a knight it was indeed next to impossible to find. He himself was as good and true as most; his loyalty was indeed unstained, he had not shed blood in murderous or treacherous manner; but he had been too frequently engaged in his father’s petty, and often unjustifiable wars, to undertake an enterprise that demanded hands free from stain. Then as to drunkenness, alas! for poor Ludolph, though naturally a very sober man, he knew he had too often shared many a “t’other flask,” and too frequently drowned his fears of the abbot of Fulda in the big bowl of Tecklenburgh, to permit him any chance of success in the achievement. In his own person, therefore, he gave it directly up, satisfied of his incapacity from the fore-mentioned weaknesses, without carrying his self-examination any further, but at the same time almost despairing of finding a substitute. “For the spotless virgin, friendly gnome,” said the honest Westphalian, “there I have better hopes, since there are enough at court, and I shall find this part of my task easy enough.” “Not quite so easy as you imagine, knight,” replied the gnome, “since there is not an unmarried lady in all Thuringia who will not lay claim to that honour, and you may thus be the innocent cause of the death of many; but I can assist you here, and make this part of the undertaking much less difficult. Here is a magic girdle; obtain permission to try it, without speaking of its virtues, upon the ladies of the margrave’s court. Should the dame who should buckle it on be a deceiver, the girdle though now appearing of large size, will shrink into the smallest compass, and will not even encircle her slender waist: should the lady be the object of your search, it will set closely and gracefully to her form.” “A thousand thanks,” replied the honest knight; “I have no fears for my success in this point, and perhaps I may be more fortunate than I expect in the other. Now then, generous friend, accomplish your kind intention, release me from this dungeon, and I will immediately hasten to Eisenac and seek a maiden who may assist to break these abominable enchantments.” “I will,” replied the spirit, “but do not forget that to other eyes as well as Brunilda’s, you still wear the form of the Yellow Dwarf; this is occasioned by three orange-coloured hairs, from his formidable beard, tied round your right arm; unloose them, and you will appear to others as you do to yourself and me. Be under no alarm for the safety of the princess, since I have already prevented your enemy’s entering her presence without her permission, and will still continue to watch over her.” The knight again thanked the gnome for his friendly care, and shutting his eyes, by command of his companion, and opening them again the next instant, found himself, to his infinite joy, standing near the Orange Tree, round which his horse was quietly grazing. He soon sprang lightly into his saddle, and turned his head from the wood, determined to reach Eisenac ere daybreak. With this resolution he spurred on gaily, thinking of the joy he should feel upon liberating his beloved Brunilda, when, in a turn of the wood, he suddenly encountered a troop of knights in the livery of the Yellow Dwarf. A cold shivering seized him, for he expected to be dragged back neck and heels to the Orange Tree, when, to his utter astonishment, they all lowly saluted and made way for him to pass. He now remembered that he had not yet removed the orange-coloured hairs from his arm, and, feeling himself indebted to this circumstance, for his safety resolved to let them remain till he should be quite out of the infernal forest. Dwelling fondly upon his hopes and brightening prospects, the young morning sun found him entering Eisenac, where he was greeted with a loud shout by a troop of boys, who seemed to recognise an old acquaintance. Soon the boy crowd was augmented by a multitude of citizens, who surrounded Ludolph, yelling like fiends, seized his bridle, pinioned his arms, and saluted him with a dreadful volley of curses. “Sorcerer, robber, demon!” rung in his ears in all directions, and, while the uproar raged in its greatest violence, he was dragged from his horse, and thrown on the ground. At this extraordinary treatment, the count demanded to be conducted to the margrave, to the princess Margaret. He was told that the court had quitted Eisenac, but they were resolved to burn him alive in revenge for his treatment of their beloved princess, and the noble count Ludolph, her destined husband. Solomon said, that “fear is nothing else than a betraying the succours which reason offereth;” and, in this case, it was most truly so, for the knight’s agitation in the first part of the attack, had made him forget in time to remove the orange-coloured hairs from his arm. Their last exclamation had shewn him their mistake, and his own fatal imprudence. Now he found that he was in danger of being burnt alive for the sins of the execrable Dwarf, unless he could immediately free himself from the charm. “Hear me, dear friends,” he cried, “I am truly the unhappy Ludolph, but your eyes are bewitched by the sorceries of that abominable demon, and you see me only under his resemblance; release my arms for one moment, and I will convince you.” At this insult to their understandings, the wise men of Eisenac set up a most tremendous howl, and were still more anxious to collect faggots for his service. They kicked, buffeted, and reviled his person till he was almost delirious with rage, and the foamings of his indignation confirmed them in their belief that he really was, what he appeared, the demon of the Orange Tree. During one of the pauses made by his guards to listen to his earnest entreaties for a moment’s liberty, he found means to disengage his hands from their grasp, tore open his sleeve, and furiously rending away the slight bandage of hair, stood before them in his own proper person. Astonishment for a moment tied up the tongues of the assembly, but quickly recovering themselves before Ludolph could gain time to explain, they declared it a new piece of sorcery, and swore that the form of their gallant favourite should not shield the wizard who they firmly believed was his murderer. The magistrates and officers of Eisenac, aroused by the news of the seizure of the demon Dwarf, had assembled upon the spot, and startled by the wonders they now heard, trembled to think of the consequences of the unbridled fury of the mob, should the story told by the equivocal knight be really true. Anxious to avoid the spilling of innocent blood, they proposed conveying him to prison, and awaiting the decision of the margrave; but the people anticipated a sight, and rather than lose so excellent a joke as that of roasting a sorcerer, they would willingly have run the hazard of sacrificing even Ludolph himself. But the magistrates, much to their honour, continued firm, and, through their interference, poor Ludolph, who already felt the flames crackling under him, with much difficulty obtained permission to say a few words to them in defence. “Noble magistrates and discerning judges,” said the mob-hunted count of Tecklenburgh, “I trust that you will believe that I am really myself as I declare to you by my knighthood I am. As for the Yellow Dwarf, a curse on him, I am his victim, not his ally; since it is from his infernal enchantments, and still more infernal malice, all my misfortunes have arisen. How you can for a moment imagine that I could be his friend because I have been unlucky enough to appear under his odious form, I am at a loss to imagine, since nobody surely can possibly believe such a transformation to be a matter of choice.” The female part of the audience perfectly agreed with the last observation of Ludolph, and the magistrates, puzzled by the sincerity with which he had delivered his remonstrance, determined to save him, at least from the fire and the faggots. But, as the people had expected a show, thought the wise men of Eisenac, “a show they must have,” or the consequences, they knew, of their disappointment in an affair so essential to their well-being, might not be entirely insignificant to their betters. So, while acquitting him, in their consciences, of being the Yellow Dwarf, and forbidding the animating use of fire and faggots, they condemned him to be put to the ban, as a nobleman, for dabbling in a little private sorcery in conjunction with the demon, in whose villainous shape he had just appeared. No sooner was this righteous sentence pronounced against the unlucky Ludolph, than he was seized by the soldiers and followed by all the crowd, who, anxious to join in the fun, exhibited many a practical witticism at his expense, and cracked all their superfluous jokes upon his unfortunate person: then stripping him of his armour and knightly accoutrements, and clothing him in raw and filthy goatskins, they set him upon a sorry mule with his face toward the tail, and led him through the town, the herald proclaiming before him, “We declare thy wife, if thou hast one, a widow, thy children, if thou hast any, orphans, and we send thee, in the name of the devil, to the four corners of the earth.” Thus sent upon a long voyage, with such a friendly benediction, it would not have been wonderful if the heart of the knight had sunk with his circumstances, which any heart would have done except a Westphalian one, but that was employed in swelling with indignation, and meditating the best mode of returning the compliments of the Eisenac mobility. While thus occupied, he heard a voice close to his ear, which whispered, “Attend to my orders, and you are safe.” He looked earnestly in the direction of the sound, and saw, to his infinite satisfaction, the dusky face of his friend the gnome beneath the helmet of a soldier. “Let these people continue to believe you the Yellow Dwarf,” continued the spirit; “it is the only way to preserve you from suspicion in your real character; here are the hairs which, in your haste, you threw away. Resist not while I tie them round your arm, and leave the rest to me.” Ludolph sat silent while, under the appearance of a new insult, his instructor twisted the light band round his arm, and the shrieks of the people a moment after announced that the charm had taken effect upon their senses. “It is the sorcerer,” they cried, “the horrible Dwarf—seize him, tear him, burn him!” But, for this time, their kind intentions were completely frustrated, for the gnome, entering into the sorry mule which carried the prisoner, communicated to his worn-out frame such inconceivable vigour and rapidity, that a few minutes were sufficient to bear his rider far beyond the pursuit of his enemies, who remained in the market-place, staring after the beast and cursing the Yellow Dwarf. The representative of that malignant little demon was meanwhile receiving a few drops of a powerful cordial from the hand of his friend the gnome of the mine, who politely apologised for not knowing earlier the mischiefs into which his dear crony had fallen,—owing, however, entirely to his own excessive carelessness, which he should never have suspected. “And, in truth,” continued the friendly spirit, “I concluded you were safe at the margrave’s court which is at Weimar, and whither I had intended to follow you. Passing over Eisenac, I rested to know the meaning of the tumult I witnessed, and was just in time to rescue you from the rage of the mob, who would not have quitted their prey, even after the soldiers should have set you at liberty. Here,” continued the gnome, giving him a heavy bag of coin, a most welcome present to a half-naked knight errant, “hasten to equip yourself according to your rank, and lose no time in joining the court at Weimar, where you must select a damsel to conclude the adventure ere Brunilda can recover her liberty, or you be freed from the malice of the Yellow Dwarf.” Ludolph heartily thanked his good friend, though he could not help thinking it would have been as well if his assistance had been tendered some few hours earlier. But still, better late than never, thought the knight; and, though he received a few cuffs and many bitter curses, yet hard words break no bones, and the cuffs he hoped one day to repay with interest. In the interim his honour was preserved by the contrivance of the gnome, as no man in Eisenac, no, not even the sapient magistrates themselves, would ever believe the creature they had pounded and worried so unmercifully, was any other than the Yellow Dwarf himself. Receiving from his hands once more the magic girdle which he had lost in the confusion, he bade farewell to the gnome, who promised to meet him in the forest, when he should have obtained the magic scissors, upon which their success depended; and after accoutring himself as became his condition, not this time forgetting the three red hairs, he set forward once more for the court of the margrave; and, he was by no means of a melancholy complexion, his past misfortunes had no other effect upon his spirits than elevating them to a joyous pitch for glee, that he had so well escaped the dangers which he believed would have ended more tragically. And thus gay, and hoping much from the future, he arrived, without any further adventure, at the palace of Weimar.
CHAPTER IV.
Ane gat a twist o’ the craig,
Ane gat a bunch o’ the wame,
Anither gat lam’d o’ a leg,
And syne he went bellowing hame.
The princess Margaret was overjoyed once more to see her Brunilda’s lover, and she welcomed him with the sincerest regard. She listened with burning indignation to the account of the Dwarf’s treatment of his captives, and to such other parts of his history as he thought proper to relate; for he carefully suppressed, in the presence of the court, his adventures at Eisenac and his release by the gnome, lest the friendship of this good-natured spirit should again subject him to the charge of sorcery; and as he had already smelt fire at Eisenac, he was particularly anxious to avoid so warm a reception elsewhere. He informed the good princess that the girdle would only fit the damsel appointed by destiny to break the enchantment, and of consequence all were anxious to try it. Three of the most beautiful ladies in Misnia attempted, but strange to relate, in vain, to fix on the magic cestus: it shrunk to nothing round their forms, and Ludolph began again to tremble for the fate of his poor Brunilda. In vain did the most prudish ladies of the court present their slim forms to the girdle,—it would not meet around them. Several of those who had been most rigid in their own conduct, and most bitterly virtuous in regard to that of others, took the girdle with a devout air and blushing modesty, that quite revived the hope of the Westphalian knight. Alas! the cestus not only refused to clasp the waists of these fair ones, but even flew right out of their hands the moment they touched it; and this circumstance so disheartened Ludolph, that he foolishly enough, ere above twenty ladies had made the attempt, gossiped out the secret of its virtues in the delighted ear of the princess Margaret. That good lady thought the joke too excellent to be confined to so few persons; and there being among the unlucky twenty some whose beauty rivalled that of her beloved Brunilda, she lost no time in publishing the secret, which had the effect of making them all abhor Ludolph, and defeating the plans he was so anxious to carry into effect; for now, not a single woman acquainted with the virtue of the cestus would even try it on, and, instead of laughing with the princess and Ludolph at the unlucky discovery made by the twenty, they made, much to their honour, common cause against them, and vowed to smother the mischievous knight whenever they could conveniently catch hold of him. It required all the authority of the margrave, who at this juncture arrived at Weimar from the camp, to protect the unfortunate knight from their vengeance, who began to be as much afraid of these beautiful destroying angels as he had been of the fire-loving devils of Eisenac, or even the Yellow Dwarf himself. “Alas! I am surely the most unfortunate of men,” said he to the margrave; “I have been transformed to the detested shape of the Yellow Dwarf, for wishing to deliver your sister out of his hands. I have been near roasted alive for killing myself. I have been put to the ban for suffering myself to be tormented by my powerful enemy, and now I am in danger of being torn to pieces by the loveliest women in the world, only for being anxious to find one virgin in their company. Ah, my poor Brunilda! what will become of thee?” The margrave comforted the knight with the assurance that he would certainly be successful, if he could but prevail upon the ladies only to try on the girdle, and, in case of their obstinacy, he advised him to put the magic scissors into the hands of Brunilda herself, “For, if she be not worthy to use them,” said the proud Frederic with the bitten cheek, “she is not worthy of liberty, nor the tender love you bear her. For the other conditions, I fear we must despair, since I do believe there is not a knight in my court, no not in all the courts of Germany, that will accept the challenge; though against mortal foes, they are the bravest men in the universe.” The margrave was right. Each knight knew his own secret weakness too well to accept the office, when the conditions were stated to them, no one being willing, as they honestly avowed, to hazard an ignominious death, by disregarding the injunctions of the gnome. There was not a man among them who had not, at some time or other, offended by drunkenness, licentiousness, or breaking heads in an unjust quarrel: indeed, with regard to the latter peccadillo: it was scarcely possible, in the time of which I am treating, for it to be otherwise, since not only disputes of chivalry, and all injuries, whether public or private, were settled by the sword, even cases of felony and suits of law were arranged by the same expeditious decision; so that he of the strongest arm and stoutest heart infallibly gained his cause, whether right or wrong, as his adversary could no longer contend, either for reputation or property, after the dagger of mercy had been struck into his heart, or drawn quietly across his throat.