“Sweet bird, that thus on rapid wing Ascend’st to realms above, Oh! could’st thou point to me the path That leads unto my love! But, ah! thy course is wandering too; So thou perchance art crost By fruitless longing, even as I, And thy true love hast lost!” “It is strange,” said Theobaldo, “when, in this foreign land, you speak your native tongue, vehemently indeed, and with passion, it seems as if the very woods, flowers, and fountains, were amazed at such harsh and unwonted sounds. But when you begin to sing, all is again tranquil, happy, and harmonious; for music is indeed a universal language. Mark, I pray you, what grand adventure is announced as your reward by the stranger who just now makes his appearance from the thickets!” Lifting up his eyes, Otto indeed saw that a young man, handsomely attired, and mounted on a white horse, just then came riding out of the wood. He wore a plaited green dress, like that of a minstrel, and over it a magnificent gold chain, by which his harp was suspended from his neck. All the while he continued to play thereupon; for his horse was so quiet and sensible, that of his own accord he turned away from the down-hanging branches, so that his rider might not be interrupted by them in his employment. Coming up near to Sir Otto and the merchant Theobaldo, he halted, and said,--“Was it then your voices which I just now heard sound so harmoniously through the forest?” When Otto courteously answered in the affirmative, the stranger dismounted, saying,--“Permit me then to have the pleasure of joining for a while in your amusements.” Thereupon he took the bridle from his horse, and allowed him to graze at liberty in the glades of the forest. At the same moment, Otto’s war-steed came up snorting and neighing, prepared for a combat with his new neighbour; from which the latter shrunk back affrighted, and, as if seeking protection, trotted away to his master. Then Sir Otto spoke aloud some words of severe admonition to his charger; whereupon he betook himself quietly to the society of the chesnut Pole; and the minstrel’s horse regaining courage, went curvetting and caprioling back to the pasture.