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Updated: June 12, 2025
The court-artist obtained from the latter a promise to present his pupil Navarrete to the grey-Haired prince of artists. Everything was now ready for departure; Ulrich again packed his belongings in the studio, but with very different feelings from the first time. He was a man, he now knew what the right "word" was, life lay open before him, and the paradise of Art was about to unclose its gates.
"And if I don't succeed, if I accomplish nothing more than this...." Here Ulrich suddenly paused, for he remembered that he was going away, perhaps to-morrow, so he continued sadly, in a calmer tone: "Rely upon it; I will do what I can, and whatever happens, you will rejoice, will you not, if I succeed-and if it should be otherwise...." "No, no," she eagerly exclaimed.
Her Grace was sore displeased with Clara for having kept all this a secret, and said that she would have expected more wisdom and discretion from her, seeing that she had always counted her the most worthy amongst her maidens; then she summoned Ulrich, and laid the evil matter before him. He shook his head; believed that they had hit on the true cause now.
In the month of February the invalid was playing chess with Ruth, she had learned the game from the smith and Ulrich from her, when Adam entered the room, saying: "when the game is over, I wish to speak to you, my son." The young girl had the advantage, but instantly pushed the pieces together and left the two alone.
"I will try, yes, I will try.... My child, my dear child!" Ulrich clasped her closely in his arms, kissed her hair, and said, softly: "I know, I know, you need love, and you shall find it with me." "With you!" she repeated, sobbing. Then releasing herself from his embrace she hurried to the feverish woman, at whose summons she had left her tent.
Presently he stretched forth the sceptre again, and said: "Prisoner, in the name of our sovereign lord, Ulrich, Duke of Brandenburgh, I proceed to the solemn duty that hath devolved upon me. Give heed to my words. By the ancient law of the land, except you produce the partner of your guilt and deliver him up to the executioner you must surely die.
Your mother's own sister nursed your infancy, and from that time forward we feared nothing. "When you were ten years old, a daughter was born to Ulrich. We grieved, but hoped for good results from measles, or physicians, or other natural enemies of infancy, but were always disappointed. She lived, she throve Heaven's malison upon her! But it is nothing. We are safe. For, Ha-ha! have we not a son?
"If you knew that you would not be so hard.... See, Fritz and Ulrich ... I have known you both such a long time.... We have sat together in school ... and together ... we have knelt before the altar ... you always had an ill-will towards me; I have had to bear much from you.... But I will forget everything if only you will make amends for this one thing.
At every breath he drew he felt freer and gayer. Suddenly there was a rustling at the tent-door. He seized his two-handed sword, but did not raise it, for a beloved voice he recognized, called softly: "Ulrich, Ulrich, it is I!" He started up, hastily threw on his doublet, rushed towards her, clasped her in his arms, and let her stroke his curls, kiss his cheeks and eyes, as in the old happy days.
"In the frame, firmly in the frame! I am an old man, and you see, child, I remember how wonderfully sweet your mother was; but I can never succeed in recalling just how she looked then. I have tried, tried thousands and thousands of times; at Richtberg, here, everywhere deep as was my wrath!" "You shall see her again surely surely!" interrupted Ulrich.
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