But that did not deter me. For
from my little garden I could often hear feminine voices not far off
in the castle garden, and among them I thought I could distinguish
the voice of my Lady fair, although, because of the thick shrubbery,
I could see nobody. And so every day I plucked a nosegay of my finest
flowers, and when it was dark in the evening, I climbed over the wall
and laid it upon a marble table in an arbor near by, and every time
that I brought a fresh nosegay the old one was gone from the table.
One evening all the castle inmates were away hunting; the sun was just
setting, flooding the landscape with flame and color, the Danube wound
toward the horizon like a band of gold and fire, and the vine-dressers
on all the hills throughout the country were glad and gay. I was
sitting with the Porter on the bench before my cottage, enjoying the
mild air and the gradual fading to twilight of the brilliant day.
Suddenly the horns of the returning hunting-party sounded on the
air; the notes were tossed from hill to hill by the echoes. My soul
delighted in it all, and I sprang up and exclaimed, in an intoxication
of joy, "That is what I ought to follow in life, the huntsman's noble
calling!" But the Porter quietly knocked the ashes out of his pipe and
said, "You only think so; I've tried it. You hardly earn the shoes you
wear out, and you're never without a cough or a cold from perpetually
getting your feet wet.
Pages:
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317