transit gloria mundi!" said the Duke, smiling; "but look, Albert,
your nuptial companions, with twelve others, are approaching with
torches to illumine your path home. But first empty a goblet with us.
Cupbearer, go bring us some of our best," he added, addressing the
attendants.
Maxx Stumpf von Schweinsberg and Dieterich von Kraft now drew near with
torches in their hands, and offered themselves to conduct Albert to his
house. Twelve young men followed, each with a torch, to do honour
likewise to the bridegroom, for that was also the ceremony used on such
occasions. The Duke's cup-bearer brought a full goblet of wine, when
having, according to custom, first tasted it himself, he presented it
to his master, and then to Albert von Sturmfeder.
Ulerich looked at his friend for a time, evidently moved by a feeling
of affection for him. "You have kept your word," said he: "when I was
deserted by all the world, dwelling in misery under the earth, you made
yourself known to me, when those forty traitors surrendered my castle,
and not a spot of Wuertemberg was left that I could call my own. You
followed me out of the country,--you often consoled me and pointed to
this day. Remain, my friend, for who knows what the next day may bring
forth. I can now command hundreds who will cry, 'Long live Ulerich!'
nevertheless, that shout is far less dear to me than the toast which
you gave me in the cavern, and which was re-echoed through its vaults.
I'll repeat it, and give it you back again. May you live happy with
your wife,--may your offspring blossom and prosper for ever,--and may
Wuertemberg never fail in hearts as bold in prosperity and faithful in
adversity as yours has proved itself!"
The Duke drank, whilst a tear glistened in his eye. The guests cheered
and shouted his praise,--the torch-bearers arranged themselves in
order,--and Albert von Sturmfeder, led by his two companions, and
followed by the rest, was conducted in procession out of the castle to
the house of his bride.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Hast thou not seen by times the cloudless sky
Sudden illumined by the lightning flash,
And its still, still silence, broken horribly
By the loud music of the thunder crash?
To this we might man's happiness compare,--
To day 'tis present, and to-morrow----where?
SCHILLER.
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