<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poem">
<p class="i16"> I was one</p>
<p>Who loved the greenwood bank and lowing herd,</p>
<p>The russet prize, the lowly peasant's life,</p>
<p>Season'd with sweet content, more than the halls</p>
<p>Where revellers feast to fever-height. Believe me,</p>
<p>There ne'er was poison mix'd in maple bowl.</p>
<p class="i16"><span class="smcap">Anonymous.</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<p>Leaving the young persons engaged with their
sports, the Landamman of Unterwalden and the
elder Philipson walked on in company, conversing
chiefly on the political relations of France, England,
and Burgundy, until the conversation was
changed as they entered the gate of the old castle-yard
of Geierstein, where arose the lonely and
dismantled keep, surrounded by the ruins of other
buildings.</p>
<p>"This has been a proud and a strong habitation
in its time," said Philipson.</p>
<p>"They were a proud and powerful race who held
it," replied the Landamman. "The Counts of
Geierstein have a history which runs back to the
times of the old Helvetians, and their deeds are
reported to have matched their antiquity. But all
earthly grandeur has an end, and free men tread
the ruins of their feudal castle, at the most distant
sight of whose turrets serfs were formerly obliged
to vail their bonnets, if they would escape the
chastisement of contumacious rebels."
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I observe," said the merchant, "engraved on
a stone under yonder turret, the crest, I conceive,
of the last family, a vulture perched on a rock,
descriptive, doubtless, of the word Geierstein."</p>
<p>"It is the ancient cognisance of the family,"
replied Arnold Biederman, "and, as you say,
expresses the name of the castle, being the
same with that of the knights who so long held
it."</p>
<p>"I also remarked in your hall," continued the
merchant, "a helmet bearing the same crest or
cognisance. It is, I suppose, a trophy of the triumph
of the Swiss peasants over the nobles of
Geierstein, as the English bow is preserved in
remembrance of the battle of Buttisholz?"</p>
<p>"And you, fair sir," replied the Landamman,
"would, I perceive, from the prejudices of your
education, regard the one victory with as unpleasant
feelings as the other?—Strange, that the
veneration for rank should be rooted even in the
minds of those who have no claim to share it!
But clear up your downcast brows, my worthy
guest, and be assured, that though many a proud
baron's castle, when Switzerland threw off the
bonds of feudal slavery, was plundered and destroyed
by the just vengeance of an incensed
people, such was not the lot of Geierstein. The
blood of the old possessors of these towers still
flows in the veins of him by whom these lands
are occupied."</p>
<p>"What am I to understand by that, Sir Landamman?"
said Philipson. "Are not you yourself
the occupant of this place?"</p>
<p>"And you think, probably," answered Arnold,
"because I live like the other shepherds, wear
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</SPAN></span>
homespun grey, and hold the plough with my
own hands, I cannot be descended from a line
of ancient nobility? This land holds many such
gentle peasants, Sir Merchant; nor is there a more
ancient nobility than that of which the remains
are to be found in my native country. But they
have voluntarily resigned the oppressive part of
their feudal power, and are no longer regarded as
wolves amongst the flock, but as sagacious mastiffs,
who attend the sheep in time of peace, and
are prompt in their defence when war threatens
our community."</p>
<p>"But," repeated the merchant, who could not
yet reconcile himself to the idea that his plain
and peasant-seeming host was a man of distinguished
birth, "you bear not the name, worthy
sir, of your fathers—They were, you say, the
Counts of Geierstein, and you are"——</p>
<p>"Arnold Biederman, at your command," answered
the magistrate. "But know,—if the
knowledge can make you sup with more sense of
dignity or comfort,—I need but put on yonder old
helmet, or, if that were too much trouble, I have
only to stick a falcon's feather into my cap, and
call myself Arnold, Count of Geierstein. No man
could gainsay me—though whether it would
become my Lord Count to drive his bullocks to the
pasture, and whether his Excellency the High and
Well-born could, without derogation, sow a field
or reap it, are questions which should be settled
beforehand. I see you are confounded, my respected
guest, at my degeneracy; but the state of
my family is very soon explained.</p>
<p>"My lordly fathers ruled this same domain of
Geierstein, which in their time was very extensive,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</SPAN></span>
much after the mode of feudal barons—that is,
they were sometimes the protectors and patrons,
but oftener the oppressors of their subjects. But
when my grandfather, Heinrich of Geierstein,
flourished, he not only joined the Confederates to
repel Ingelram de Couci and his roving bands, as
I already told you, but, when the wars with
Austria were renewed, and many of his degree
joined with the host of the Emperor Leopold, my
ancestor adopted the opposite side, fought in front
of the Confederates, and contributed by his skill
and valour to the decisive victory at Sempach, in
which Leopold lost his life, and the flower of
Austrian chivalry fell around him. My father,
Count Williewald, followed the same course, both
from inclination and policy. He united himself
closely with the state of Unterwalden, became a
citizen of the Confederacy, and distinguished himself
so much that he was chosen Landamman of
the Republic. He had two sons,—myself, and a
younger brother, Albert; and possessed, as he felt
himself, of a species of double character, he was
desirous, perhaps unwisely (if I may censure the
purpose of a deceased parent), that one of his sons
should succeed him in his Lordship of Geierstein,
and the other support the less ostentatious,
though not in my thought less honourable condition,
of a free citizen of Unterwalden, possessing
such influence among his equals in the Canton as
might be acquired by his father's merits and his
own. When Albert was twelve years old, our
father took us on a short excursion to Germany,
where the form, pomp, and magnificence which
we witnessed made a very different impression on
the mind of my brother and on my own. What
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</SPAN></span>
appeared to Albert the consummation of earthly
splendour seemed to me a weary display of tiresome
and useless ceremonials. Our father explained
his purpose, and offered to me, as his
eldest son, the large estate belonging to Geierstein,
reserving such a portion of the most fertile ground
as might make my brother one of the wealthiest
citizens, in a district where competence is esteemed
wealth. The tears gushed from Albert's eyes—'And
must my brother,' he said, 'be a noble Count,
honoured and followed by vassals and attendants,
and I a homespun peasant among the grey-bearded
shepherds of Unterwalden?—No, father—I respect
your will—but I will not sacrifice my own
rights. Geierstein is a fief held of the empire, and
the laws entitle me to my equal half of the lands.
If my brother be Count of Geierstein, I am not
the less Count Albert of Geierstein; and I will
appeal to the Emperor, rather than that the arbitrary
will of one ancestor, though he be my father,
shall cancel in me the rank and rights which I
have derived from a hundred.' My father was
greatly incensed. 'Go,' he said, 'proud boy, give
the enemy of thy country a pretext to interfere in
her affairs—appeal to the will of a foreign prince
from the pleasure of thy father. Go, but never
again look me in the face, and dread my eternal
malediction!' Albert was about to reply with
vehemence, when I entreated him to be silent and
hear me speak. I had, I said, all my life loved
the mountain better than the plain; had been
more pleased to walk than to ride; more proud to
contend with shepherds in their sports than with
nobles in the lists; and happier in the village
dance than among the feasts of the German nobles.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</SPAN></span>
'Let me, therefore,' I said, 'be a citizen of the
republic of Unterwalden; you will relieve me of
a thousand cares; and let my brother Albert wear
the coronet and bear the honours of Geierstein.'
After some further discussion, my father was at
length contented to adopt my proposal, in order
to attain the object which he had so much at
heart. Albert was declared heir of his castle and
his rank, by the title of Count Albert of Geierstein;
and I was placed in possession of these
fields and fertile meadows amidst which my house
is situated, and my neighbours called me Arnold
Biederman."</p>
<p>"And if Biederman," said the merchant, "means,
as I understand the word, a man of worth, candour,
and generosity, I know none on whom the epithet
could be so justly conferred. Yet let me observe,
that I praise the conduct which, in your circumstances,
I could not have bowed my spirit to
practise. Proceed, I pray you, with the history
of your house, if the recital be not painful to
you."</p>
<p>"I have little more to say," replied the Landamman.
"My father died soon after the settlement
of his estate in the manner I have told you.
My brother had other possessions in Swabia and
Westphalia, and seldom visited his paternal castle,
which was chiefly occupied by a seneschal, a man
so obnoxious to the vassals of the family, that but
for the protection afforded by my near residence,
and relationship with his lord, he would have been
plucked out of the Vulture's Nest, and treated
with as little ceremony as if he had been the vulture
himself. Neither, to say the truth, did my
brother's occasional visits to Geierstein afford his
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</SPAN></span>
vassals much relief, or acquire any popularity for
himself. He heard with the ears and saw with
the eyes of his cruel and interested steward, Ital
Schreckenwald, and would not listen even to my
interference and admonition. Indeed, though he
always demeaned himself with personal kindness
towards me, I believe he considered me as a dull
and poor-spirited clown, who had disgraced my
noble blood by my mean propensities. He showed
contempt on every occasion for the prejudices of
his countrymen, and particularly by wearing a
peacock's feather in public, and causing his followers
to display the same badge, though the
cognisance of the House of Austria, and so unpopular
in this country, that men have been put
to death for no better reason than for carrying it
in their caps. In the meantime I was married to
my Bertha, now a saint in heaven, by whom I
had six stately sons, five of whom you saw surrounding
my table this day. Albert also married.
His wife was a lady of rank in Westphalia, but
his bridal-bed was less fruitful; he had only one
daughter, Anne of Geierstein. Then came on the
wars between the city of Zurich and our Forest
Cantons, in which so much blood was shed, and
when our brethren of Zurich were so ill advised as
to embrace the alliance of Austria. Their Emperor
strained every nerve to avail himself of the favourable
opportunity afforded by the disunion of the
Swiss, and engaged all with whom he had influence
to second his efforts. With my brother he
was but too successful; for Albert not only took
arms in the Emperor's cause, but admitted into
the strong fortress of Geierstein a band of Austrian
soldiers, with whom the wicked Ital Schreckenwald
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</SPAN></span>
laid waste the whole country, excepting my little
patrimony."</p>
<p>"It came to a severe pass with you, my worthy
host," said the merchant, "since you were to
decide against the cause of your country or that
of your brother."</p>
<p>"I did not hesitate," continued Arnold Biederman.
"My brother was in the Emperor's army,
and I was not therefore reduced to act personally
against him; but I denounced war against the
robbers and thieves with whom Schreckenwald had
filled my father's house. It was waged with various
fortune. The seneschal, during my absence,
burnt down my house, and slew my youngest son,
who died, alas! in defence of his father's hearth.
It is little to add that my lands were wasted and
my flocks destroyed. On the other hand, I succeeded,
with help of a body of the peasants of
Unterwalden, in storming the Castle of Geierstein.
It was offered back to me by the Confederates; but
I had no desire to sully the fair cause in which I
had assumed arms, by enriching myself at the
expense of my brother; and besides, to have dwelt
in that guarded hold would have been a penance to
one the sole protectors of whose house of late years
had been a latch and a shepherd's cur. The castle
was therefore dismantled, as you see, by order of
the elders of the Canton; and I even think that,
considering the uses it was too often put to, I look
with more pleasure on the rugged remains of
Geierstein, than I ever did when it was entire,
and apparently impregnable."</p>
<p>"I can understand your feelings," said the Englishman,
"though I repeat, my virtue would not
perhaps have extended so far beyond the circle of
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</SPAN></span>
my family affections.—Your brother, what said
he to your patriotic exertions?"</p>
<p>"He was, as I learnt," answered the Landamman,
"dreadfully incensed, having no doubt been
informed that I had taken his castle with a view
to my own aggrandisement. He even swore he
would renounce my kindred, seek me through the
battle, and slay me with his own hand. We were,
in fact, both at the battle of Freyenbach, but my
brother was prevented from attempting the execution
of his vindictive purpose by a wound from an
arrow, which occasioned his being carried out of
the mêlée. I was afterwards in the bloody and
melancholy fight at Mount-Herzel, and that other
onslaught at the Chapel of St. Jacob [<SPAN href="#ednote_d" name="enanchor_d" id="enanchor_d" ><i>d</i></SPAN>], which
brought our brethren of Zurich to terms, and
reduced Austria once more to the necessity of
making peace with us. After this war of thirteen
years, the Diet passed sentence of banishment for
life on my brother Albert, and would have deprived
him of his possessions, but forbore in consideration
of what they thought my good service. When the
sentence was intimated to the Count of Geierstein,
he returned an answer of defiance; yet a singular
circumstance showed us not long afterwards that
he retained an attachment to his country, and
amidst his resentment against me, his brother, did
justice to my unaltered affection for him."</p>
<p>"I would pledge my credit," said the merchant,
"that what follows relates to yonder fair maiden,
your niece?"</p>
<p>"You guess rightly," said the Landamman.
"For some time we heard, though indistinctly (for
we have, as you know, but little communication
with foreign countries), that my brother was high
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</SPAN></span>
in favour at the court of the Emperor, but latterly
that he had fallen under suspicion, and, in the
course of some of those revolutions common at the
courts of princes, had been driven into exile. It
was shortly after this news, and, as I think, more
than seven years ago, that I was returning from
hunting on the farther side of the river, had
passed the narrow bridge as usual, and was walking
through the courtyard which we have lately
left" (for their walk was now turned homeward),
"when a voice said, in the German language,
'Uncle, have compassion upon me!' As I looked
around, I beheld a girl of ten years old approach
timidly from the shelter of the ruins, and kneel
down at my feet. 'Uncle, spare my life,' she
said, holding up her little hands in the act of supplication,
while mortal terror was painted upon
her countenance.—'Am I your uncle, little
maiden?' said I; 'and if I am, why should you
fear me?'—'Because you are the head of the
wicked and base clowns who delight to spill noble
blood,' replied the girl, with a courage which
surprised me.—'What is your name, my little
maiden?' said I; 'and who, having planted in
your mind opinions so unfavourable to your kinsman,
has brought you hither, to see if he resembles
the picture you have received of him?'—'It
was Ital Schreckenwald that brought me hither,'
said the girl, only half comprehending the nature
of my question.—'Ital Schreckenwald?' I repeated,
shocked at the name of a wretch I have so
much reason to hate. A voice from the ruins,
like that of a sullen echo from the grave, answered,
'Ital Schreckenwald!' and the caitiff issued from
his place of concealment, and stood before me,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</SPAN></span>
with that singular indifference to danger which
he unites to his atrocity of character. I had my
spiked mountain-staff in my hand—What should
I have done—or what would you have done, under
like circumstances?"</p>
<p>"I would have laid him on the earth, with his
skull shivered like an icicle!" said the Englishman,
fiercely.</p>
<p>"I had well-nigh done so," replied the Swiss,
"but he was unarmed, a messenger from my
brother, and therefore no object of revenge. His
own undismayed and audacious conduct contributed
to save him. 'Let the vassal of the noble
and high-born Count of Geierstein hear the words
of his master, and let him look that they are
obeyed,' said the insolent ruffian. 'Doff thy cap,
and listen; for though the voice is mine, the
words are those of the noble Count.'—'God and
man know,' replied I, 'if I owe my brother
respect or homage—it is much if, in respect for
him, I defer paying to his messenger the meed I
dearly owe him. Proceed with thy tale, and rid
me of thy hateful presence.'—'Albert Count of
Geierstein, thy lord and my lord,' proceeded
Schreckenwald, 'having on his hand wars, and
other affairs of weight, sends his daughter, the
Countess Anne, to thy charge, and graces thee so
far as to intrust to thee her support and nurture,
until it shall suit his purposes to require her back
from thee; and he desires that thou apply to her
maintenance the rents and profits of the lands of
Geierstein, which thou hast usurped from him.'—'Ital
Schreckenwald,' I replied, 'I will not stop
to ask if this mode of addressing me be according
to my brother's directions, or thine own insolent
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</SPAN></span>
pleasure. If circumstances have, as thou sayest,
deprived my niece of her natural protector, I will
be to her as a father, nor shall she want aught
which I have to give her. The lands of Geierstein
are forfeited to the state, the castle is ruinous, as
thou seest, and it is much of thy crimes that the
house of my fathers is desolate. But where I
dwell Anne of Geierstein shall dwell, as my
children fare shall she fare, and she shall be to
me as a daughter. And now thou hast thine
errand—Go hence, if thou lovest thy life; for it
is unsafe parleying with the father, when thy
hands are stained with the blood of the son.'
The wretch retired as I spoke, but took his leave
with his usual determined insolence of manner.—'Farewell,'
he said, 'Count of the Plough and
Harrow—farewell, noble companion of paltry
burghers!' He disappeared, and released me from
the strong temptation under which I laboured, and
which urged me to stain with his blood the place
which had witnessed his cruelty and his crimes.
I conveyed my niece to my house, and soon convinced
her that I was her sincere friend. I inured
her, as if she had been my daughter, to all our
mountain exercises; and while she excels in these
the damsels of the district, there burst from her
such sparkles of sense and courage, mingled with
delicacy, as belong not—I must needs own the
truth—to the simple maidens of these wild hills,
but relish of a nobler stem, and higher breeding.
Yet they are so happily mixed with simplicity
and courtesy, that Anne of Geierstein is justly
considered as the pride of the district; nor do I
doubt but that, if she should make a worthy
choice of a husband, the state would assign her a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</SPAN></span>
large dower out of her father's possessions, since
it is not our maxim to punish the child for the
faults of the parent."</p>
<p>"It will naturally be your anxious desire, my
worthy host," replied the Englishman, "to secure
to your niece, in whose praises I have deep cause
to join with a grateful voice, such a suitable
match as her birth and expectations, but above all
her merit, demand."</p>
<p>"It is, my good guest," said the Landamman,
"that which hath often occupied my thoughts.
The over-near relationship prohibits what would
have been my most earnest desire, the hope of
seeing her wedded to one of my own sons. This
young man, Rudolph Donnerhugel, is brave, and
highly esteemed by his fellow-citizens; but more
ambitious, and more desirous of distinction, than
I would desire for my niece's companion through
life. His temper is violent, though his heart, I
trust, is good. But I am like to be unpleasantly
released from all care on this score, since my
brother, having, as it seemed, forgotten Anne for
seven years and upwards, has, by a letter which I
have lately received, demanded that she shall be
restored to him.—You can read, my worthy sir,
for your profession requires it. See, here is the
scroll, coldly worded, but far less unkindly than
his unbrotherly message by Ital Schreckenwald—Read
it, I pray you, aloud."</p>
<p>The merchant read accordingly.</p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>"<span class="smcap">Brother</span>—I thank you for the care you have taken
of my daughter, for she has been in safety when she
would otherwise have been in peril, and kindly used,
when she would have been in hardship. I now entreat
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</SPAN></span>
you to restore her to me, and trust that she will come
with the virtues which become a woman in every
station, and a disposition to lay aside the habits of a
Swiss villager, for the graces of a high-born maiden.—Adieu.
I thank you once more for your care, and
would repay it were it in my power; but you need
nothing I can give, having renounced the rank to
which you were born, and made your nest on the
ground where the storm passes over you. I rest your
brother,</p>
<p class="left45"><span class="smcap">Geierstein</span>."</p>
</div>
<p>"It is addressed 'to Count Arnold of Geierstein,
called Arnold Biederman.' A postscript requires
you to send the maiden to the court of the Duke
of Burgundy.—This, good sir, appears to me
the language of a haughty man, divided betwixt
the recollection of old offence and recent obligation.
The speech of his messenger was that
of a malicious vassal, desirous of venting his
own spite under pretence of doing his lord's
errand."</p>
<p>"I so receive both," replied Arnold Biederman.</p>
<p>"And do you intend," continued the merchant,
"to resign this beautiful and interesting creature
to the conduct of her father, wilful as he seems
to be, without knowing what his condition is, or
what his power of protecting her?"</p>
<p>The Landamman hastened to reply. "The tie
which unites the parent to the child is the earliest
and the most hallowed that binds the human
race. The difficulty of her travelling in safety has
hitherto prevented my attempting to carry my
brother's instructions into execution. But as I
am now likely to journey in person towards the
court of Charles, I have determined that Anne
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</SPAN></span>
shall accompany me; and as I will myself converse
with my brother, whom I have not seen for
many years, I shall learn his purpose respecting
his daughter, and it may be I may prevail on
Albert to suffer her to remain under my charge.—And
now, sir, having told you of my family affairs
at some greater length than was necessary, I must
crave your attention, as a wise man, to what
further I have to say. You know the disposition
which young men and women naturally have to
talk, jest, and sport with each other, out of which
practice arise often more serious attachments,
which they call loving <i>par amours</i>. I trust, if
we are to travel together, you will so school your
young man as to make him aware that Anne of
Geierstein cannot, with propriety on her part, be
made the object of his thoughts or attentions."</p>
<p>The merchant coloured with resentment, or
something like it. "I asked not to join your company,
Sir Landamman—it was you who requested
mine," he said; "if my son and I have since
become in any respect the objects of your suspicion,
we will gladly pursue our way separately."</p>
<p>"Nay, be not angry, worthy guest," said the
Landamman; "we Switzers do not rashly harbour
suspicions; and that we may not harbour them,
we speak, respecting the circumstances out of
which they might arise, more plainly than is the
wont of more civilised countries. When I proposed
to you to be my companion on the journey,
to speak the truth, though it may displease a
father's ear, I regarded your son as a soft, faint-hearted
youth, who was, as yet at least, too timid
and milky-blooded to attract either respect or
regard from the maidens. But a few hours have
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</SPAN></span>
presented him to us in the character of such a one
as is sure to interest them. He has accomplished
the emprise of the bow, long thought unattainable,
and with which a popular report connects an idle
prophecy. He has wit to make verses, and knows
doubtless how to recommend himself by other
accomplishments which bind young persons to
each other, though they are lightly esteemed by
men whose beards are mixed with grey, like yours,
friend merchant, and mine own. Now, you must
be aware, that since my brother broke terms with
me, simply for preferring the freedom of a Swiss
citizen to the tawdry and servile condition of a
German courtier, he will not approve of any one
looking towards his daughter who hath not the
advantage of noble blood, or who hath, what he
would call, debased himself by attention to merchandise,
to the cultivation of land—in a word,
to any art that is useful. Should your son love
Anne of Geierstein, he prepares for himself danger
and disappointment. And, now you know the
whole,—I ask you, Do we travel together or
apart?"</p>
<p>"Even as ye list, my worthy host," said Philipson,
in an indifferent tone; "for me, I can but say
that such an attachment as you speak of would be
as contrary to my wishes as to those of your
brother, or what I suppose are your own. Arthur
Philipson has duties to perform totally inconsistent
with his playing the gentle bachelor to any
maiden in Switzerland, take Germany to boot,
whether of high or low degree. He is an obedient
son, besides—hath never seriously disobeyed my
commands, and I will have an eye upon his
motions."
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Enough, my friend," said the Landamman;
"we travel together, then, and I willingly keep
my original purpose, being both pleased and
instructed by your discourse."</p>
<p>Then changing the conversation, he began to ask
whether his acquaintance thought that the league
entered into by the King of England and the Duke
of Burgundy would continue stable. "We hear
much," continued the Swiss, "of the immense
army with which King Edward proposes the
recovery of the English dominions in France."</p>
<p>"I am well aware," said Philipson, "that nothing
can be so popular in my country as the invasion of
France, and the attempt to reconquer Normandy,
Maine, and Gascony, the ancient appanages of our
English crown. But I greatly doubt whether the
voluptuous usurper, who now calls himself king,
will be graced by Heaven with success in such an
adventure. This Fourth Edward is brave indeed,
and has gained every battle in which he drew his
sword, and they have been many in number. But
since he reached, through a bloody path, to the
summit of his ambition, he has shown himself
rather a sensual debauchee than a valiant knight;
and it is my firm belief, that not even the chance
of recovering all the fair dominions which were
lost during the civil wars excited by his ambitious
house will tempt him to exchange the soft beds of
London, with sheets of silk and pillows of down,
and the music of a dying lute to lull him to rest,
for the turf of France and the réveille of an alarm
trumpet."</p>
<p>"It is the better for us should it prove so," said
the Landamman; "for if England and Burgundy
were to dismember France, as in our father's days
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</SPAN></span>
was nearly accomplished, Duke Charles would
then have leisure to exhaust his long-hoarded
vengeance against our Confederacy."</p>
<p>As they conversed thus, they attained once more
the lawn in front of Arnold Biederman's mansion,
where the contention of the young men had given
place to the dance performed by the young persons
of both sexes. The dance was led by Anne
of Geierstein and the youthful stranger; which,
although it was the most natural arrangement,
where the one was a guest, and the other represented
the mistress of the family, occasioned the
Landamman's exchanging a glance with the elder
Philipson, as if it had held some relation to the
suspicions he had recently expressed.</p>
<p>But so soon as her uncle and his elder guest
appeared, Anne of Geierstein took the earliest
opportunity of a pause to break off the dance, and
to enter into conversation with her kinsman, as
if on the domestic affairs under her attendance.
Philipson observed that his host listened seriously
to his niece's communication; and, nodding in his
frank manner, seemed to intimate that her request
should receive a favourable consideration.</p>
<p>The family were presently afterwards summoned
to attend the evening meal, which consisted chiefly
of the excellent fish afforded by the neighbouring
streams and lakes. A large cup, containing what
was called the <i>schlaf-trunk</i>, or sleeping-drink, then
went round, which was first quaffed by the master
of the household, then modestly tasted by the
maiden, next pledged by the two strangers, and
finally emptied by the rest of the company. Such
were then the sober manners of the Swiss, afterwards
much corrupted by their intercourse with
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</SPAN></span>
more luxurious regions. The guests were conducted
to the sleeping-apartments, where Philipson and
young Arthur occupied the same couch, and shortly
after the whole inhabitants of the household were
locked in sound repose.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />