On the spot now covered by the Tanzteich once stood a stately Schloss with lofty walls and battlements.
A rich knight, whose name has been drowned in the stream of time, dwelt in it in luxury and splendour.
Every dawn brought a new festival, and even night was turned into day; but neither discipline nor virtue ruled in the brilliant assemblages of his numerous guests.
Once the lord of the castle gave a brilliant entertainment. The merriment of the guests rang out into the night; in the wildest dance mingled men and women, youths and maidens, and loud music smothered the rolling thunder which could be heard in the distance.
And the night grew darker, and the waves of the Zorge murmured with a hollow moan, and the flowers grew wet with dew.
The heavens gathered blackness, the water of the river seemed to sing a death-song, and the flowers on its banks to weep.
Then the lightnings covered the mountains with flames, making the darkness still more terrible.
An old man stole softly and slowly up to the castle. His garments betrayed the greatest poverty, but his countenance was noble, and his thin locks were dripping with the rain.
He entered, but the servants paid no attention to him, but sat drinking.
He mounted the stone stairway, and reached the ball-room, where knights and ladies whirled in the dance regardless of the storm.