Legends of the Rhine | Page 8

his father and made intrigues
against him. Thus forced to abdicate his throne the broken-down
emperor fled to Liège, accompanied by one faithful servant, Kurt, and
there lay down to his last rest.
His body was left for five years in unconsecrated ground in a foreign
country. Kurt remained faithful, and prayed incessantly at the
burial-place of his royal master.
At last the Pope at Henry's request consented to recall the ban. Henry
ordered his father's remains to be brought to Speyer and solemnly
interred with the royal family. Kurt was allowed to follow the
procession to Speyer, but wearied out by this long watching the old
man died a few days afterwards. Just at the moment of his death the
bells in the cathedral at Speyer tolled without any human hand putting
them in motion, as they always did when an imperial death took place.
Years passed.
The German emperor Henry V. lay dying on his luxurious couch at
Speyer. His bodily sufferings were intense, but the agony of his mind
was even greater; he had obtained the crown which now pressed so
heavily on his head, by shameful treacherous means. The apparition of
his father dying in misery appeared to him, and no words of the
flatterers at his bed-side could still the voice of his conscience. At last
death freed him from all his torments, and at the same hour the bells
which were always rung when a poor sinner was led to execution,
tolled, set in motion by no human hand.
Thus were the bells the instrument of that Hand which wisely and

warningly wrote ... "Honour thy father and thy mother...."

FRANKFORT
The Knave of Bergen
[Illustration: Der Scharfrichter von Bergen--Nach einer Zeichnung von
Adolf Menzel--The Knave of Bergen--Le bourreau de Bergen]
The emperor was to be crowned at Frankfort, and great festivities were
to be given in the town in his honour, among them a masquerade, at
which knights and noble ladies rivalled each other in splendour. Joy
was depicted on every face at this great assembly, only one knight
among the many guests being noticeable for his gravity and restraint.
He wore black armour, and the feather waving above his visor was
black too. No one knew him or could guess who he was. He
approached the empress with a noble grace, bent his knee, and asked
her to dance with him, which she graciously consented to do. He glided
gracefully through the splendid halls with the queen of the festival, and
soon every eye was turned on them, and everyone was eager to know
who he was.
The empress was charmed with her excellent partner, and the grace of
his refined conversation pleased her so much that she granted him a
second and a third dance.
Everyone became more and more curious to know who this masked
knight was. Meanwhile the hour struck when every mask had to be
raised, and every masked guest must make himself known. More than
all the others the empress was anxious to know who her partner was.
But he hesitated and even refused to take off his mask until she ordered
him peremptorily to do so. The knight obeyed, but none of the high
ladies or noble knights recognised him. Suddenly two stewards pressed
through the crowd, crying out with indignation and horror;
"It is the headsman from Bergen!"

Then the emperor in great wrath ordered the shameful offender who
had thus degraded the empress and insulted his sovereign to be led to
execution.
But the culprit, throwing himself at the emperor's feet, said boldly, "I
have transgressed, my lord, and offended you and your noble guests,
but most heavily have I sinned against my queen. No punishment, not
even blood, will be able to wash out the disgrace you have suffered
through me. Therefore, oh King! allow me to propose a remedy to
efface the shame. Draw your sword and knight me, and I will throw
down my gauntlet to any one who dares to speak disrespectfully of my
sovereign."
The emperor was taken by surprise at this bold proposal. However it
appeared the wisest plan to adopt.
"You are a knave," he replied after a moment's consideration, "but your
advice is good and displays prudence, just as your offence shows
adventurous courage. Well then,"--laying his sword on the man's
neck--"rise Sir Knight. You have acted like a knave, and the Knave of
Bergen you shall be called henceforth."
A joyful shout of approbation pealed through the halls, and the new
knight again glided gracefully through the crowd with the queen of the
festival.

MAYENCE
Heinrich Frauenlob
[Illustration: Heinrich Frauenlob--Steinbild im Dom zu Mainz]
The priest or as some say, canon, in the old town of Mayence was a
very worthy man, and at the