The syllables constantly sink to seven, and sometimes even to six, or extend themselves, by the admission of trisyllabic feet, to ten, eleven, if not even twelve. Thus, once more, the famous "Christabel" metre is here, not indeed in the extremely mobile completeness which Coleridge gave it, nor even with quite such an indulgence in anapaests as Spenser allows himself in "The Oak and the Brere," but to all intents and purposes fully constituted, if not fully developed. [Footnote 116: Ed. Bechstein. 3d ed., 2 vols. Leipzig, 1891.] And Gottfried is quite equal to his form. One may feel, indeed, and it is not unpleasant to feel, that evidence of the "young hand," which consists in digressions from the text, of excursus and ambages, essays, as it were, to show, "Here I am speaking quite for myself, and not merely reading off book." But he tells the story very well--compare, for instance, the crucial point of the substitution of Brengwain for Iseult in him and in the English _Sir Tristrem_, or the charming account of the "Minnegrotte" in the twenty-seventh song, with the many other things of the kind in French, English, and German of the time. Also he has constant little bursts, little spurts, of half-lyrical cry, which lighten the narrative charmingly. "Diu wise Isot, diu schoene Isot, Diu liuhtet alse der morgenrot," is the very thing the want of which mars the pleasantly flowing but somewhat featureless octosyllables of his French models. In the famous passage[117] where he has been thought to reflect on Wolfram, he certainly praises other poets without stint, and shows himself a generous as well as a judicious critic. How Hartmann von Aue hits the meaning of a story! how loud and clear rings the crystal of his words! Did not Heinrich von Veldeke "imp the first shoot on Teutish tongues" (graft French on German poetry)? With what a lofty voice does the nightingale of the Bird-Meadow (Walther) warble across the heath! Nor is it unpleasant to come shortly afterwards to our old friends Apollo and the Camoenae, the nine "Sirens of the ears"--a slightly mixed reminiscence, but characteristic of the union of classical and romantic material which communicates to the Middle Ages so much of their charm. Indeed nowhere in this Pisgah sight of literature would it be pleasanter to come down and expatiate on the particular subject than in the case of these Middle High German poets. [Footnote 117: _Tristan_, 8th song, l. 4619 and onwards. The crucial passage is a sharp rebuke of "finders [_vindaere_, _trouveres_] of wild tales," or one particular such who plays tricks on his readers and utters unintelligible things. It _may_ be Wolfram: it also may not be.] [Sidenote: _Hartmann von Aue._]