第82章 THE SKETCH BOOK(2)
- THE SKETCH BOOK
- Washington Irving
- 980字
- 2016-03-02 16:36:19
The baron, though a small man, had a large soul, and it swelled withsatisfaction at the consciousness of being the greatest man in thelittle world about him. He loved to tell long stories about the darkold warriors whose portraits looked grimly down from the walls around,and he found no listeners equal to those who fed at his expense. Hewas much given to the marvellous, and a firm believer in all thosesupernatural tales with which every mountain and valley in Germanyabounds. The faith of his guests exceeded even his own: theylistened to every tale of wonder with open eyes and mouth, and neverfailed to be astonished, even though repeated for the hundredthtime. Thus lived the Baron Von Landshort, the oracle of his table, theabsolute monarch of his little territory, and happy, above all things,in the persuasion that he was the wisest man of the age.
At the time of which my story treats, there was a great familygathering at the castle, on an affair of the utmost importance: it wasto receive the destined bridegroom of the baron's daughter. Anegotiation had been carried on between the father and an old noblemanof Bavaria, to unite the dignity of their houses by the marriage oftheir children. The preliminaries had been conducted with properpunctilio. The young people were betrothed without seeing eachother; and the time was appointed for the marriage ceremony. The youngCount Von Altenburg had been recalled from the army for the purpose,and was actually on his way to the baron's to receive his bride.
Missives had even been received from him, from Wurtzburg, where he wasaccidentally detained, mentioning the day and hour when he might beexpected to arrive.
The castle was in a tumult of preparation to give him a suitablewelcome. The fair bride had been decked out with uncommon care. Thetwo aunts had superintended her toilet, and quarrelled the wholemorning about every article of her dress. The young lady had takenadvantage of their contest to follow the bent of her own taste; andfortunately it was a good one. She looked as lovely as youthfulbridegroom could desire; and the flutter of expectation heightened thelustre of her charms.
The suffusions that mantled her face and neck, the gentle heaving ofthe bosom, the eye now and then lost in reverie, all betrayed the softtumult that was going on in her little heart. The aunts werecontinually hovering around her; for maiden aunts are apt to takegreat interest in affairs of this nature. They were giving her a worldof staid counsel how to deport herself, what to say, and in whatmanner to receive the expected lover.
The baron was no less busied in preparations. He had, in truth,nothing exactly to do: but he was naturally a fuming bustling littleman, and could not remain passive when all the world was in a hurry.
He worried from top to bottom of the castle with an air of infiniteanxiety; he continually called the servants from their work toexhort them to be diligent; and buzzed about every hall and chamber,as idly restless and importunate as a blue-bottle fly on a warmsummer's day.
In the meantime the fatted calf had been killed; the forests hadrung with the clamor of the huntsmen; the kitchen was crowded withgood cheer; the cellars had yielded up whole oceans of Rhein-weinand Ferne-wein; and even the great Heidelberg tun had been laidunder contribution. Every thing was ready to receive the distinguishedguest with Saus und Braus in the true spirit of German hospitality-but the guest delayed to make his appearance. Hour rolled afterhour. The sun, that had poured his downward rays upon the richforest of the Odenwald, now just gleamed along the summits of themountains. The baron mounted the highest tower, and strained hiseyes in hope of catching a distant sight of the count and hisattendants. Once he thought he beheld them; the sound of horns camefloating from the valley, prolonged by the mountain echoes. A numberof horsemen were seen far below, slowly advancing along the road;but when they had nearly reached the foot of the mountain, theysuddenly struck off in a different direction. The last ray of sunshinedeparted- the bats began to flit by in the twilight- the road grewdimmer and dimmer to the view; and nothing appeared stirring in it butnow and then a peasant lagging homeward from his labor.
While the old castle of Landshort was in this state of perplexity, avery interesting scene was transacting in a different part of theOdenwald.
The young Count Von Altenburg was tranquilly pursuing his route inthat sober jog-trot way, in which a man travels toward matrimonywhen his friends have taken all the trouble and uncertainty ofcourtship off his hands, and a bride is waiting for him, ascertainly as a dinner at the end of his journey. He had encountered atWurtzburg, a youthful companion in arms, with whom he had seen someservice on the frontiers; Herman Von Starkenfaust, one of the stoutesthands, and worthiest hearts, of German chivalry, who was now returningfrom the army. His father's castle was not far distant from the oldfortress of Landshort, although an hereditary feud rendered thefamilies hostile, and strangers to each other.
In the warm-hearted moment of recognition, the young friends relatedall their past adventures and fortunes, and the count gave the wholehistory of his intended nuptials with a young lady whom he had neverseen, but of whose charms he had received the most enrapturingdescriptions.
As the route of the friends lay in the same direction, they agreedto perform the rest of their journey together; and, that they might doit the more leisurely, set off from Wurtzburg at an early hour, thecount having given directions for his retinue to follow and overtakehim.
They beguiled their wayfaring with recollections of their militaryscenes and adventures; but the count was apt to be a little tedious,now and then, about the reputed charms of his bride, and thefelicity that awaited him.