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Updated: May 9, 2025
The tale opens beneath the arches of a Suabian forest, with Gilbert de Hers and Henry de Stramen facing each other's swords as mortal foes; it closes with Gilbert and Henry, now reconciled, kneeling at the tomb of the fair and lovely Lady Margaret, their hates forgotten before the grave of innocence and maidenly devotion, and learning from the hallowed memory of the dead, the lesson of that forgiveness that makes us divine.
His brother's soul would be much better honored by his prayers, than by imprecations and the clash of steel; we cannot avenge the dead, for their bodies are dust, and their souls absorbed in things eternal; and Sandrit de Stramen is but making his brother's misfortune the occasion of his own temporal, and perhaps eternal injury. I wish, indeed, this criminal work of vengeance could be stopped."
But I was weak enough to receive the presents they gave me for the sake of wearing the finery, and my lover was pleased, because we were poor. My Lord of Stramen, do you remember the day we brought you your brother's corpse?" The baron shuddered.
"Listen to me, Baron of Stramen!" she began, looking full at the noble, in whom surprise was gaining a temporary mastery over grief; "listen, for it is God's mercy that permits me to speak and you to hear! Twenty years ago I was young and beautiful. I was loved by your brother and by him who stands at your side."
All Germany is indignant at the choice, and the people of Cologne are imploring the monarch to make another appointment." "It will serve but to confirm the nomination," said the priest of Stramen. "What remains to His Holiness?" inquired Rodolph. Slowly and solemnly the missionary pronounced the single word: "Excommunication!"
"Spoken like a woman, as you are," muttered the knight. "I would have you feel otherwise, but God has given you your sex; I cannot change its nature." The Baron of Stramen was a tall, powerful man, whose vigor fifty years had not impaired. His face was stern, though not repulsive, and free from any approach to vulgarity.
Rodolph had passed into Saxony, to assemble an army there, leaving Welf, the Duke of Bavaria, and the Lord Albert, to collect the forces of Suabia. Rodolph had taken with him the Baron of Stramen, with his son, and Gilbert de Hers.
Father Omehr, who rightly judged that his rude intrusion must have been caused by no ordinary occurrence, rose, and in a whisper commanded him to explain himself. "Bertha seems adying!" said the man. "Where is she?" asked the priest. "About a mile from here I will take you there." The Baron of Stramen seemed not to listen, for he sat motionless; but his son manifested much interest.
The reader of "The Truce of God," in spite of the fact that the romance seems to be sketched only in its broadest outlines, gets a distinct knowledge of its chief actors. They live before his eyes. De Hers and Stramen are not mere abstractions. They have the rugged, clear-cut character, the sudden passions, the quick and at times dangerous and savage impulses of the men of the eleventh century.
"Margaret!" he repeated, as their eyes met, "you have done much to soften your father's anger and your brother's impetuosity, and your mediation has perhaps endeared you to heaven but you can do more! Devote your life to the extinction of the feud between the houses of Stramen and Hers look to the duty that stares you in the face, and fulfil that vocation before you seek another!
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