CHAPTER IV
OF THAT WHICH BEFELL THE KNIGHT IN THE WOOD
Now this is what Huldbrand told of the things that had befallen him. “Eight days agone,” saith he, “I rode into the imperial city which is on the other side of the forest. And it chanced that, hard on my arrival, there was a splendid tournament and running at the ring, and certès, I spared neither horse nor lance. Once, as I stood still at the lists, resting after the toil that I loved, and was handing my helmet back to my squire, lo, I espied a very beautiful woman standing, richly dight, in one of the spectators’ galleries.”
“I asked those about me and learnt that the name of the lady was Bertalda, and that she was the foster-daughter of a mighty duke in the land. Now her eyes rested on me, as mine on her; and as is the wont of young knights, forasmuch as I had already ridden bravely, I bore myself for the rest of the encounter with yet higher courage. That evening I was Bertalda’s partner in the dance, and so I remained all the days of the festival.”
Hereupon a sharp pain in his left hand, which was hanging down, stayed Huldbrand in his discourse, and he looked down to see what might be the cause. Undine had bitten hard his finger, and seemed marvellously gloomy and distempered. Of a sudden, however, she looked up into his eyes with gentle, sorrowful face, and whispered very softly, “’Tis thou who are to blame!” Hiding her face the while. The knight began to speak again, in no small measure perplexed and thoughtful.
“Now, this Bertalda was a wayward and a haughty damsel. She pleased me not so much the second day as the first and the third day still less. Nathless, I busied myself about her, for that she seemed to hold me in higher favour than other knights, and thus it befell that once in sport I besought her for one of her gloves. ‘Sir Knight,’ quoth she, ‘I wil1 give it to thee when, all by thyself, thou hast searched the ill-omened forest through and through, and canst bring me tidings of its marvels.’ I recked little of her glove, but the word of a knight once given cannot be withdrawn, and a man of honour needs no second prompting to a deed of valour.”
“Methought she loved you,” saith Undine.
“Ay, so it seemed,” returned Huldbrand.
“Why, then,” laughed the maiden, “right foolish must she be to drive from her the man she loved—and, moreover, into a wood of evil fame! The forest and its mysteries might have waited long enough for me!”
