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Their object was to reach Konrad's own Castle of Isenburg on the frontiers of Bohemia, but they quickly heard the alarm bells ringing, and beheld beacons lighted upon every hill.
When at length day dawned, and the key rattled in the door, Konrad's hands and feet began to tremble. It was the gaoler, who brought him a bundle of coarse cotton clothing. When Konrad asked in a dull voice if it was his gallows dress, the old man answered roughly: "What are you chattering about? Put on your house clothes."
"Then speak it," said the judge, and holding Konrad's hand firmly in his, broke out with: "Don't you see, it's cruel to think, to believe, that we must be the personal enemies of all whom we're obliged to condemn. You think the proceedings in court were so callous, you've no idea how we actually feel about the business.
The poetical efforts of that early age may be grouped under national epos: the "Nibelungenlied;" art epos: the "Rolandslied," "Percival," etc.; the introduction of antique legends: Veldeck's "Aeneide," and Konrad's "War of Troy;" Christian legends "Barlaam," "Sylvester," "Pilatus," etc.; poetical narratives: "Crescentia," "Graf Rudolf," etc.; animal legends; "Reinecke Vos;" didactic poems: "Der Renner;" the Minne-poetry, and prose.
Yet for the right The woodman holds the field; Now left, now right, repels the knight, His pole full stoutly wields. His whistle clear rings full of cheer, And lo! his comrades true, All swarth and lusty, with fire poles trusty, Burst on Sir Konrad's view. His horse's rein he grasps amain Into his selle to spring, His gold-spurred heel his stirrup's steel Has caught, his weapons ring.
He was awakened from his reverie by the coming of the ancient custodian of the castle, who shuffled up to him and saluted him with reverential respect, for the Count was now the last of his race; a fighting line, whose members rarely came to die peaceably in their beds as Konrad's father had done.
The citizens were in arms, furious at the outrage of the night before. The appearance of a suspected murderer aroused their passion to the utmost; Konrad's escort was overpowered and thrust aside. "Awa' wi' him to the Papist's pillar!" cried a voice.
'There Konrad's den and merry men Will safely hold the boys The Prince shall grieve long ere we leave Our hold upon his joys. 'But hark! but hark! how through the dark The castle bell is tolling, From tower and town o'er wood and down, The like alarm notes rolling. 'The peal rings out! echoes the shout! All Saxony's astir; Groom, turn aside, swift must we ride Through the lone wood of fir.
The scullion Hans who wrought their plans, And oped the window grate, Whose faith was sold for Konrad's gold, He met a traitor's fate Behold how gay the wood to-day, The little church how fair, What banners wave, what tap'stry brave Covers its carvings rare! A goodly train the parents twain, And here the princess two, Here with his pole, George, stout of soul, And all his comrades true.
His frightened steed with wildest speed Careers with many a bound; Sir Konrad's heel fast holds the steel, His head is on the ground. The peasants round lift from the ground His form in woeful plight, To convent cell, for keeping well, Bear back the robber knight. 'Our dear young lord, what may afford A charcoal-burners' store We freely spread, milk, honey, bread, Our heated kiln before!
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