King Eric and the Outlaws, Vol. 2: or, the Throne, the Church, and the People in the Thirteenth Century.Ingemann, Bernhard Severin
History
King Eric and the Outlaws, Vol. 2: or, the Throne, the Church, and the People in the Thirteenth Century.
Ingemann, Bernhard Severin
Denmark -- History -- Erik Menved, 1286-1319 -- Fiction
"You have perturbed dreams, Drost Aagé," said Count Henrik, letting go
Aagé's fevered hand. "Sleep ye but in quiet; I watch." He then hastened
after the king and the junker; but first glanced out of the window, and
saw with secret horror, by the deepening star-light, a high, black
scaffold in the back court of the castle, without the knights' story.
He hastily drew the curtain before the window and departed; whereupon
the old nurse (still shaking and muttering) re-entered the Drost's
chamber. She was attired in the homely dress of a country burgher's
wife; her eyes were large and sunken, and her pale, emaciated visage
greatly resembled that of a corpse. With a distaff and a rosary in her
hand, she resumed her station by the Drost's couch before the lamp,
which she drew aside, that it might not shine in the face of the
patient. All was now soon quiet in this wing of the castle, which only
comprised the sleeping apartments of the knights. Aagé lay long
listening in anxiety. In the unusual stillness of the evening, however,
a distant sound as of lutes and mirthful songs reached his ear.
"What is that?" he asked, raising his head with pain and difficulty.
"There is merriment in the knights' hall, noble sir! yes in troth! that
there is," answered the nurse; "our stern junker hath caused minstrels
and jugglers to be fetched from the town. There is no lack either of
mead or sweet wine, that knoweth the precious Lord in heaven! He drinks
to friendship with his brother, they say. Alack yes!" she added, "the
great can be merry, doubtless, and leave care to the fiddle; ay! ay!
when they quarrel among themselves, it all falls on the small! yes, in
troth! does it--all falls on the small. My departed husband was, by my
troth, doomed to death, in the great Marsk Stig's feud--alack yes! by
my troth was he, he was but a poor man, I must tell ye: _he_ had
neither knightly nor princely honour to swear himself free with, like
the high-born junker; no, by my troth! had he not, that was the whole
mishap. There sits now our old commandant in the tower--ay! ay! he will
hardly see sun or moon more; they say he is to be executed to-night;
alack yes! and yesterday he was master here at the castle; yes, in
troth! was he so, but so goeth it in the world; alack yes."
"Executed?" repeated Aagé; "the Lord have mercy on his soul; the king
is strict and hasty: ha! but knew he?----"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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