“Can you then feel here as I do?” said Sir Arinbiorn; “I might indeed say, that I had no home over the wide world; for what avails my castle in Norway, wherein I have neither father, mother, wife, nor sister? But now, methinks, I could almost believe that Blanchefleur dwelt here in this old tower, and that I was returning hither as her husband from a prosperous and honourable campaign. Good heavens! what a happy evening this would then be!--and you, too, Sir Otto, must belong to the same house; you should, methinks, be the Lady Blanchefleur’s brother; and, if it were so, would you indeed give me your sister in marriage?”--“Of that there can be no question,” answered Sir Otto, at the same time shaking hands cordially with the sea-monarch. “If I had a sister with whom you had fallen in love she would within this very hour become your betrothed bride. To say the truth, however, I have not time at the present moment to think of such matters,--scarcely even of my own bride or wedding-day,--(had these been the subject of our discourse,) so deeply am I now impressed with the feeling, as if, like a cheerful free-hearted child, I were arrived, after long wandering through the world, at my own home, and as if the air were filled with the pleasant fragrance of the pine-tree logs blazing on my father’s hearth. Nay, I could almost knock at the door, and ask if my father were within, were I to give the reins to these strange feelings that have now possessed me.” They now perceived a knight, in complete armour, who stood before the watch-tower, and seemed to speak vehemently with some one above. In order to learn, in the first place, what was here going forward, they checked their horses, and remained quiet; so that they were unperceived by the knight, who never looked towards them. From the tower above they now heard a mild female voice, that said, “Thou wild and untameable youth! art thou then angry with me? Wouldst thou blame that maternal care and love which may indeed be compared to a gleam of beneficence from Heaven, which takes up its abode in the female heart, fitting it with such divine goodness and anxiety for the welfare of others, that to an earthly being such feelings are often changed into pain?” “Am I not your son?” answered the knight, in a tone of anger and defiance. “Wherefore then should you complain of me? And wherefore torment me thus with your endless warnings, your white doves, swans, and nightly visions, that follow me wherever I go? Either leave me in peace, or assist me to gain the object of my affections, the beautiful enchantress, who dwells yonder across the valley.” “Nay, wild and restless warrior as thou art,” said the female voice, “Heaven has not decreed that the beautiful young enchantress can be yours. This would indeed be as if the fierce flame should woo the mountain-torrent, both, no doubt, rapid and vehement in their nature, but for ever divided and irreconcileable.”