the Wartburg contest.

"'Wolfframb was sitting in his chamber at late eventide thinking of new
songs, when his landlord Gottschalk came in full of joy, crying:

"'"Ah! noble sir, how you have vanquished the Evil One by the power of
your art and skill! The horrible writing in your chamber has gone out
of its own accord, God be praised and thanked for the same! I have
brought something which was left at my house to be conveyed to you."
With which he produced a folded letter, well sealed with wax. It was
from Heinrich of Ofterdingen, and to the following effect.

"'"I greet you, my trusty Wolfframb, as one who has recovered from some
terrible sickness which threatened his death. Many marvellous things
have happened to me. But I would fain keep silence as to the evils of a
time, which lies behind me now like a dark, impenetrable mystery.
Doubtless you remember the words you spoke, when I was boasting of the
inward power which elevated me above you and the other masters. You
said then, that perhaps I should find myself on the brink of some
terrible abyss, a prey to giddiness, ready to fall down into it; and
that then you would hold me back with your strong arms. Wolfframb, that
which your prophetic soul foresaw, was that which came to pass! I stood
on the brink of an abyss, and you held me fast when the fatal giddiness
had wellnigh benumbed my senses. It was your splendid victory which
annihilated my adversary, and restored me to life and happiness. Yes,
Wolfframb! before your love the mighty veils which enwrapped me fell
away, and I looked up again to the bright heavens. Can my affection for
you be otherwise than redoubled? You recognized Klingsohr as a great
master--and that he is. But woe to him who--not endowed with that
peculiar strength which he possesses--ventures, like him, to strive
towards the dark realm, which he has laid open to himself. I have
renounced him, and totter on the brink of the Hell-river, helpless and
wretched, no longer. I am restored to the joys of home.

"'"Mathilda, ah no! Doubtless it was never that glorious lady. It was
some foul enchantment, which filled me with deceptive visions of a
paradise on earth--of vain, mundane pleasure. May all that I did in my
days of madness be forgotten. Greet the masters, and tell them how it
is with me now. Fare thee well, most sincerely beloved Wolfframb.
Peradventure you may hear tidings of me ere long."

"'After some time news came to the Wartburg that He