"Prithee，friend，"criedthequarto，inatestytone，"howolddo
　　youthinkme？Youaretalkingofauthorsthatlivedlongbeforemy
　　time，andwroteeitherinLatinorFrench，sothattheyinamanner
　　expatriatedthemselves，anddeservedtobeforgotten；*butI，sir，was
　　usheredintotheworldfromthepressoftherenownedWynkyndeWorde。
　　Iwaswritteninmyownnativetongue，atatimewhenthelanguagehad
　　becomefixed；andindeedIwasconsideredamodelofpureand
　　elegantEnglish。"
　　*InLatinandFrenchhathmanysouerainewitteshadgreatdelyteto
　　endite，andhavemanynoblethingesfulfilde，butcertesthereben
　　somethatspeakentheirpoisyeinFrench，ofwhichspechethe
　　Frenchmenhaveasgoodafantasyeaswehaveinhearyingof
　　Frenchmen’sEnglishe。—Chaucer’sTestamentofLove。
　　（Ishouldobservethattheseremarkswerecouchedinsuch
　　intolerablyantiquatedterms，thatIhavehadinfinitedifficultyin
　　renderingthemintomodernphraseology。）
　　"Icryyourmercy，"saidI，"formistakingyourage；butit
　　matterslittle：almostallthewritersofyourtimehavelikewise
　　passedintoforgetfulness；andDeWorde’spublicationsaremere
　　literaryraritiesamongbook—collectors。Thepurityandstabilityof
　　language，too，onwhichyoufoundyourclaimstoperpetuity，havebeen
　　thefallaciousdependenceofauthorsofeveryage，evenbacktothe
　　timesoftheworthyRobertofGloucester，whowrotehishistoryin
　　rhymesofmongrelSaxon。*EvennowmanytalkofSpenser’s’wellof
　　pureEnglishundefiled，’asifthelanguageeversprangfromawellor
　　fountain—head，andwasnotratheramereconfluenceofvarious
　　tongues，perpetuallysubjecttochangesandintermixtures。Itis
　　thiswhichhasmadeEnglishliteraturesoextremelymutable，andthe
　　reputationbuiltuponitsofleeting。Unlessthoughtcanbe
　　committedtosomethingmorepermanentandunchangeablethansucha
　　medium，eventhoughtmustsharethefateofeverythingelse，andfall
　　intodecay。Thisshouldserveasacheckuponthevanityand
　　exultationofthemostpopularwriter。Hefindsthelanguagein
　　whichhehasembarkedhisfamegraduallyaltering，andsubjectto
　　thedilapidationsoftimeandthecapriceoffashion。Helooksback
　　andbeholdstheearlyauthorsofhiscountry，oncethefavoritesof
　　theirday，supplantedbymodernwriters。Afewshortageshavecovered
　　themwithobscurity，andtheirmeritscanonlyberelishedbythe
　　quainttasteofthebookworm。Andsuch，heanticipates，willbethe
　　fateofhisownwork，which，howeveritmaybeadmiredinitsday，and
　　heldupasamodelofpurity，willinthecourseofyearsgrow
　　antiquatedandobsolete；untilitshallbecomealmostas
　　unintelligibleinitsnativelandasanEgyptianobelisk，oroneof
　　thoseRunicinscriptionssaidtoexistinthedesertsofTartary。I
　　declare，"addedI，withsomeemotion，"whenIcontemplateamodern
　　library，filledwithnewworks，inallthebraveryofrichgildingand
　　binding，Ifeeldisposedtositdownandweep；likethegoodXerxes，
　　whenhesurveyedhisarmy，prankedoutinallthesplendorofmilitary
　　array，andreflectedthatinonehundredyearsnotoneofthemwould
　　beinexistence！"
　　*Holinshed，inhisChronicle，observes，"afterwards，also，by
　　diligenttravellofGeffryChaucerandofJohnGowre，inthetimeof
　　RichardtheSecond，andafterthemofJohnScoganandJohnLydgate，
　　monkeofBerrie，oursaidtoongwasbroughttoanexcellentpasse，
　　notwithstandingthatitnevercameuntothetypeofperfectionuntil
　　thetimeofQueenElizabeth，whereinJohnJewell，BishopofSarum，
　　JohnFox，andsundrielearnedandexcellentwriters，havefully
　　accomplishedtheornatureofthesame，totheirgreatpraiseand
　　immortalcommendation。"
　　"Ah，"saidthelittlequarto，withaheavysigh，"Iseehowitis；
　　thesemodernscribblershavesupersededallthegoodoldauthors。I
　　supposenothingisreadnow—a—daysbutSirPhilipSydney’sArcadia，
　　Sackville’sstatelyplays，andMirrorforMagistrates，orthe
　　fine—spuneuphuismsofthe’unparalleledJohnLyly。’"
　　"Thereyouareagainmistaken，"saidI；"thewriterswhomyou
　　supposeinvogue，becausetheyhappenedtobesowhenyouwerelastin
　　circulation，havelongsincehadtheirday。SirPhilipSydney’s
　　Arcadia，theimmortalityofwhichwassofondlypredictedbyhis
　　admirers，*andwhich，intruth，isfullofnoblethoughts，delicate
　　images，andgracefulturnsoflanguage，isnowscarcelyever
　　mentioned。Sackvillehasstruttedintoobscurity；andevenLyly，
　　thoughhiswritingswereoncethedelightofacourt，andapparently
　　perpetuatedbyaproverb，isnowscarcelyknownevenbyname。A
　　wholecrowdofauthorswhowroteandwrangledatthetime，have
　　likewisegonedown，withalltheirwritingsandtheircontroversies。
　　Waveafterwaveofsucceedingliteraturehasrolledoverthem，until
　　theyareburiedsodeep，thatitisonlynowandthenthatsome
　　industriousdiverafterfragmentsofantiquitybringsupaspecimen
　　forthegratificationofthecurious。
　　*Liveeversweetebooke；thesimpleimageofhisgentlewitt，and
　　thegolden—pillarofhisnoblecourage；andevernotifyuntotheworld
　　thatthywriterwasthesecretaryofeloquence，thebreathofthe
　　muses，thehoney—beeofthedaintyestflowersofwittandarte，the
　　pithofmoraleandintellectualvirtues，thearmeofBellonainthe
　　field，thetongeofSuadainthechamber，thespriteofPractisein
　　esse，andtheparagonofexcellencyinprint。—HarveyPierce’s
　　Supererogation。
　　"Formypart，"Icontinued，"Iconsiderthismutabilityoflanguage
　　awiseprecautionofProvidenceforthebenefitoftheworldatlarge，
　　andofauthorsinparticular。Toreasonfromanalogy，wedailybehold
　　thevariedandbeautifultribesofvegetablesspringingup，
　　flourishing，adorningthefieldsforashorttime，andthenfading
　　intodust，tomakewayfortheirsuccessors。Werenotthisthecase，
　　thefecundityofnaturewouldbeagrievanceinsteadofablessing。
　　Theearthwouldgroanwithrankandexcessivevegetation，andits
　　surfacebecomeatangledwilderness。Inlikemannertheworksof
　　geniusandlearningdecline，andmakewayforsubsequentproductions。
　　Languagegraduallyvaries，andwithitfadeawaythewritingsof
　　authorswhohaveflourishedtheirallottedtime；otherwise，the
　　creativepowersofgeniuswouldoverstocktheworld，andthemind
　　wouldbecompletelybewilderedintheendlessmazesofliterature。
　　Formerlythereweresomerestraintsonthisexcessivemultiplication。
　　Workshadtobetranscribedbyhand，whichwasaslowandlaborious
　　operation；theywerewritteneitheronparchment，whichwasexpensive，
　　sothatoneworkwasoftenerasedtomakewayforanother；oron
　　papyrus，whichwasfragileandextremelyperishable。Authorshipwasa
　　limitedandunprofitablecraft，pursuedchieflybymonksinthe
　　leisureandsolitudeoftheircloisters。Theaccumulationof
　　manuscriptswasslowandcostly，andconfinedalmostentirelyto
　　monasteries。Tothesecircumstancesitmay，insomemeasure，be
　　owingthatwehavenotbeeninundatedbytheintellectofantiquity；
　　thatthefountainsofthoughthavenotbeenbrokenup，andmodern
　　geniusdrownedinthedeluge。Buttheinventionsofpaperandthe
　　presshaveputanendtoalltheserestraints。Theyhavemadeevery
　　oneawriter，andenabledeverymindtopouritselfintoprint，and
　　diffuseitselfoverthewholeintellectualworld。Theconsequencesare
　　alarming。Thestreamofliteraturehasswollenintoatorrent—
　　augmentedintoariver—expandedintoasea。Afewcenturiessince，
　　fiveorsixhundredmanuscriptsconstitutedagreatlibrary；but
　　whatwouldyousaytolibrariessuchasactuallyexist，containing
　　threeorfourhundredthousandvolumes；legionsofauthorsatthesame
　　timebusy；andthepressgoingonwithfearfullyincreasing
　　activity，todoubleandquadruplethenumber？Unlesssomeunforseen
　　mortalityshouldbreakoutamongtheprogenyofthemuse，nowthatshe
　　hasbecomesoprolific，Itrembleforposterity。Ifearthemere
　　fluctuationoflanguagewillnotbesufficient。Criticismmaydomuch。
　　Itincreaseswiththeincreaseofliterature，andresemblesoneof
　　thosesalutarychecksonpopulationspokenofbyeconomists。All
　　possibleencouragement，therefore，shouldbegiventothegrowthof
　　critics，goodorbad。ButIfearallwillbeinvain；letcriticismdo
　　whatitmay，writerswillwrite，printerswillprint，andtheworld
　　willinevitablybeoverstockedwithgoodbooks。Itwillsoonbethe
　　employmentofalifetimemerelytolearntheirnames。Manyamanof
　　passableinformation，atthepresentday，readsscarcelyanythingbut
　　reviews；andbeforelongamanoferuditionwillbelittlebetterthan
　　amerewalkingcatalogue。
　　"Myverygoodsir，"saidthelittlequarto，yawningmostdrearilyin
　　myface，"excusemyinterruptingyou，butIperceiveyouarerather
　　giventoprose。Iwouldaskthefateofanauthorwhowasmaking
　　somenoisejustasIlefttheworld。Hisreputation，however，was
　　consideredquitetemporary。Thelearnedshooktheirheadsathim，
　　forhewasapoorhalf—educatedvarlet，thatknewlittleofLatin，and
　　nothingofGreek，andhadbeenobligedtorunthecountryfor
　　deer—stealing。IthinkhisnamewasShakspeare。Ipresumehesoonsunk
　　intooblivion。"
　　"Onthecontrary，"saidI，"itisowingtothatverymanthatthe
　　literatureofhisperiodhasexperiencedadurationbeyondthe
　　ordinarytermofEnglishliterature。Thereriseauthorsnowand
　　then，whoseemproofagainstthemutabilityoflanguage，because
　　theyhaverootedthemselvesintheunchangingprinciplesofhuman
　　nature。Theyarelikegigantictreesthatwesometimesseeonthe
　　banksofastream；which，bytheirvastanddeeproots，penetrating
　　throughthemeresurface，andlayingholdontheveryfoundationsof
　　theearth，preservethesoilaroundthemfrombeingsweptawayby
　　theever—flowingcurrent，andholdupmanyaneighboringplant，and，
　　perhaps，worthlessweed，toperpetuity。Suchisthecasewith
　　Shakspeare，whomwebeholddefyingtheencroachmentsoftime，
　　retaininginmodernusethelanguageandliteratureofhisday，and
　　givingdurationtomanyanindifferentauthor，merelyfromhaving
　　flourishedinhisvicinity。Butevenhe，Igrievetosay，isgradually
　　assumingthetintofage，andhiswholeformisoverrunbyaprofusion
　　ofcommentators，who，likeclamberingvinesandcreepers，almost
　　burythenobleplantthatupholdsthem。"
　　Herethelittlequartobegantoheavehissidesandchuckle，until
　　atlengthhebrokeoutinaplethoricfitoflaughterthathadwell
　　nighchokedhim，byreasonofhisexcessivecorpulency。"Mightywell！"
　　criedhe，assoonashecouldrecoverbreath，"mightywell！andsoyou
　　wouldpersuademethattheliteratureofanageistobeperpetuated
　　byavagabonddeer—stealer！byamanwithoutlearning；byapoet，
　　forsooth—apoet！"Andherehewheezedforthanotherfitoflaughter。
　　IconfessthatIfeltsomewhatnettledatthisrudeness，which，
　　however，Ipardonedonaccountofhishavingflourishedinaless
　　polishedage。Idetermined，nevertheless，nottogiveupmypoint。
　　"Yes，"resumedI，positively，"apoet；forofallwritershehasthe
　　bestchanceforimmortality。Othersmaywritefromthehead，buthe
　　writesfromtheheart，andtheheartwillalwaysunderstandhim。Heis
　　thefaithfulportrayerofnature，whosefeaturesarealwaysthe
　　same，andalwaysinteresting。Prosewritersarevoluminousand
　　unwieldy；theirpagesarecrowdedwithcommonplaces，andtheir
　　thoughtsexpandedintotediousness。Butwiththetruepoeteverything
　　isterse，touching，orbrilliant。Hegivesthechoicestthoughtsin
　　thechoicestlanguage。Heillustratesthembyeverythingthathesees
　　moststrikinginnatureandart。Heenrichesthembypicturesofhuman
　　life，suchasitispassingbeforehim。Hiswritings，therefore，
　　containthespirit，thearoma，ifImayusethephrase，oftheage
　　inwhichhelives。Theyarecasketswhichinclosewithinasmall
　　compassthewealthofthelanguage—itsfamilyjewels，whichare
　　thustransmittedinaportableformtoposterity。Thesettingmay
　　occasionallybeantiquated，andrequirenowandthentoberenewed，
　　asinthecaseofChaucer；butthebrilliancyandintrinsicvalueof
　　thegemscontinueunaltered。Castalookbackoverthelongreachof
　　literaryhistory。Whatvastvalleysofdulness，filledwithmonkish
　　legendsandacademicalcontroversies！whatbogsoftheological
　　speculations！whatdrearywastesofmetaphysics！Hereandthereonly
　　dowebeholdtheheaven—illuminatedbards，elevatedlikebeaconson
　　theirwidely—separateheights，totransmitthepurelightof
　　poeticalintelligencefromagetoage。"*
　　*Thorowearthandwatersdeepe，
　　Thepenbyskilldothpasse：
　　Andfeatlynypstheworldesabuse，
　　Andshoesusinaglasse，
　　Thevertuandthevice
　　Ofeverywightalyve；
　　Thehoneycombthatbeedothmake
　　Isnotsosweetinhyve，
　　Asarethegoldenleves
　　Thatdropfrompoet’shead！
　　Whichdothsurmountourcommontalke
　　Asfarreasdrossdothlead。
　　Churchyard。
　　Iwasjustabouttolaunchforthintoeulogiumsuponthepoetsof
　　theday，whenthesuddenopeningofthedoorcausedmetoturnmy
　　head。Itwastheverger，whocametoinformmethatitwastimeto
　　closethelibrary。Isoughttohaveapartingwordwiththequarto，
　　buttheworthylittletomewassilent；theclaspswereclosed：and
　　itlookedperfectlyunconsciousofallthathadpassed。Ihavebeento
　　thelibrarytwoorthreetimessince，andhaveendeavoredtodrawit
　　intofurtherconversation，butinvain；andwhetherallthis
　　ramblingcolloquyactuallytookplace，orwhetheritwasanotherof
　　thoseoddday—dreamstowhichIamsubject，Ihavenevertothis
　　momentbeenabletodiscover。
　　THEEND。
　　1819—20
　　THESKETCHBOOK
　　THESPECTREBRIDEGROOM
　　ATRAVELLER’STALE*
　　byWashingtonIrving
　　*Theeruditereader，wellversedingood—for—nothinglore，will
　　perceivethattheaboveTalemusthavebeensuggestedtotheoldSwiss
　　byalittleFrenchanecdote，acircumstancesaidtohavetakenplace
　　atParis。
　　Hethatsupperforisdight，
　　Helyesfullcold，Itrow，thisnight！
　　YestreentochamberIhimled，
　　ThisnightGray—Steelhasmadehisbed。
　　SIREGER，SIRGRAHAME，ANDSIRGRAY—STEEL。
　　ONTHEsummitofoneoftheheightsoftheOdenwald，awildand
　　romantictractofUpperGermany，thatliesnotfarfromtheconfluence
　　oftheMainandtheRhine，therestood，many，manyyearssince，the
　　CastleoftheBaronVonLandshort。Itisnowquitefallentodecay，
　　andalmostburiedamongbeechtreesanddarkfirs；aboutwhich，
　　however，itsoldwatch—towermaystillbeseen，struggling，likethe
　　formerpossessorIhavementioned，tocarryahighhead，andlookdown
　　upontheneighboringcountry。
　　ThebaronwasadrybranchofthegreatfamilyofKatzenellenbogen，*
　　andinheritedtherelicsoftheproperty，andalltheprideofhis
　　ancestors。Thoughthewarlikedispositionofhispredecessorshadmuch
　　impairedthefamilypossessions，yetthebaronstillendeavoredto
　　keepupsomeshowofformerstate。Thetimeswerepeaceable，andthe
　　Germannobles，ingeneral，hadabandonedtheirinconvenientold
　　castles，perchedlikeeagles’nestsamongthemountains，andhadbuilt
　　moreconvenientresidencesinthevalleys：stillthebaronremained
　　proudlydrawnupinhislittlefortress，cherishing，withhereditary
　　inveteracy，alltheoldfamilyfeuds；sothathewasonilltermswith
　　someofhisnearestneighbors，onaccountofdisputesthathad
　　happenedbetweentheirgreat—great—grandfathers。
　　*i。e。，CAT’S—ELBOW。Thenameofafamilyofthosepartsvery
　　powerfulinformertimes。Theappellation，wearetold，wasgivenin
　　complimenttoapeerlessdameofthefamily，celebratedforherfine
　　arm。
　　Thebaronhadbutonechild，adaughter；butnature，whenshegrants
　　butonechild，alwayscompensatesbymakingitaprodigy；andsoit
　　waswiththedaughterofthebaron。Allthenurses，gossips，and
　　countrycousins，assuredherfatherthatshehadnotherequalfor
　　beautyinallGermany；andwhoshouldknowbetterthanthey？She
　　had，moreover，beenbroughtupwithgreatcareunderthe
　　superintendenceoftwomaidenaunts，whohadspentsomeyearsoftheir
　　earlylifeatoneofthelittleGermancourts，andwereskilledinall
　　thebranchesofknowledgenecessarytotheeducationofafinelady。
　　Undertheirinstructionsshebecameamiracleofaccomplishments。By
　　thetimeshewaseighteen，shecouldembroidertoadmiration，and
　　hadworkedwholehistoriesofthesaintsintapestry，withsuch
　　strengthofexpressionintheircountenances，thattheylookedlikeso
　　manysoulsinpurgatory。Shecouldreadwithoutgreatdifficulty，
　　andhadspelledherwaythroughseveralchurchlegends，andalmostall
　　thechivalricwondersoftheHeldenbuch。Shehadevenmade
　　considerableproficiencyinwriting；couldsignherownnamewithout
　　missingaletter，andsolegibly，thatherauntscouldreaditwithout
　　spectacles。Sheexcelledinmakinglittleelegantgood—for—nothing
　　lady—likenicknacksofallkinds；wasversedinthemostabstruse
　　dancingoftheday；playedanumberofairsontheharpandguitar；
　　andknewallthetenderballadsoftheMinne—liederbyheart。
　　Heraunts，too，havingbeengreatflirtsandcoquettesintheir
　　youngerdays，wereadmirablycalculatedtobevigilantguardiansand
　　strictcensorsoftheconductoftheirniece；forthereisnoduenna
　　sorigidlyprudent，andinexorablydecorous，asasuperannuated
　　coquette。Shewasrarelysufferedoutoftheirsight；neverwent
　　beyondthedomainsofthecastle，unlesswellattended，orratherwell
　　watched；hadcontinuallecturesreadtoheraboutstrictdecorumand
　　implicitobedience；and，astothemen—pah！—shewastaughttohold
　　thematsuchadistance，andinsuchabsolutedistrust，that，unless
　　properlyauthorized，shewouldnothavecastaglanceuponthe
　　handsomestcavalierintheworld—no，notifhewereevendyingather
　　feet。
　　Thegoodeffectsofthissystemwerewonderfullyapparent。Theyoung
　　ladywasapatternofdocilityandcorrectness。Whileotherswere
　　wastingtheirsweetnessintheglareoftheworld，andliabletobe
　　pluckedandthrownasidebyeveryhand，shewascoylybloominginto
　　freshandlovelywomanhoodundertheprotectionofthoseimmaculate
　　spinsters，likearose—budblushingforthamongguardianthorns。Her
　　auntslookeduponherwithprideandexultation，andvauntedthat
　　thoughalltheotheryoungladiesintheworldmightgoastray，yet，
　　thankHeaven，nothingofthekindcouldhappentotheheiressof
　　Katzenellenbogen。
　　But，howeverscantilytheBaronVonLandshortmightbeprovidedwith
　　children，hishouseholdwasbynomeansasmallone；forProvidence
　　hadenrichedhimwithabundanceofpoorrelations。They，oneand
　　all，possessedtheaffectionatedispositioncommontohumble
　　relatives；werewonderfullyattachedtothebaron，andtookevery
　　possibleoccasiontocomeinswarmsandenliventhecastle。Allfamily
　　festivalswerecommemoratedbythesegoodpeopleatthebaron’s
　　expense；andwhentheywerefilledwithgoodcheer，theywoulddeclare
　　thattherewasnothingonearthsodelightfulasthesefamily
　　meetings，thesejubileesoftheheart。
　　Thebaron，thoughasmallman，hadalargesoul，anditswelledwith
　　satisfactionattheconsciousnessofbeingthegreatestmaninthe
　　littleworldabouthim。Helovedtotelllongstoriesaboutthedark
　　oldwarriorswhoseportraitslookedgrimlydownfromthewallsaround，
　　andhefoundnolistenersequaltothosewhofedathisexpense。He
　　wasmuchgiventothemarvellous，andafirmbelieverinallthose
　　supernaturaltaleswithwhicheverymountainandvalleyinGermany
　　abounds。Thefaithofhisguestsexceededevenhisown：they
　　listenedtoeverytaleofwonderwithopeneyesandmouth，andnever
　　failedtobeastonished，eventhoughrepeatedforthehundredth
　　time。ThuslivedtheBaronVonLandshort，theoracleofhistable，the
　　absolutemonarchofhislittleterritory，andhappy，aboveallthings，
　　inthepersuasionthathewasthewisestmanoftheage。
　　Atthetimeofwhichmystorytreats，therewasagreatfamily
　　gatheringatthecastle，onanaffairoftheutmostimportance：itwas
　　toreceivethedestinedbridegroomofthebaron’sdaughter。A
　　negotiationhadbeencarriedonbetweenthefatherandanoldnobleman
　　ofBavaria，tounitethedignityoftheirhousesbythemarriageof
　　theirchildren。Thepreliminarieshadbeenconductedwithproper
　　punctilio。Theyoungpeoplewerebetrothedwithoutseeingeach
　　other；andthetimewasappointedforthemarriageceremony。Theyoung
　　CountVonAltenburghadbeenrecalledfromthearmyforthepurpose，
　　andwasactuallyonhiswaytothebaron’storeceivehisbride。
　　Missiveshadevenbeenreceivedfromhim，fromWurtzburg，wherehewas
　　accidentallydetained，mentioningthedayandhourwhenhemightbe
　　expectedtoarrive。
　　Thecastlewasinatumultofpreparationtogivehimasuitable
　　welcome。Thefairbridehadbeendeckedoutwithuncommoncare。The
　　twoauntshadsuperintendedhertoilet，andquarrelledthewhole
　　morningabouteveryarticleofherdress。Theyoungladyhadtaken
　　advantageoftheircontesttofollowthebentofherowntaste；and
　　fortunatelyitwasagoodone。Shelookedaslovelyasyouthful
　　bridegroomcoulddesire；andtheflutterofexpectationheightenedthe
　　lustreofhercharms。
　　Thesuffusionsthatmantledherfaceandneck，thegentleheavingof
　　thebosom，theeyenowandthenlostinreverie，allbetrayedthesoft
　　tumultthatwasgoingoninherlittleheart。Theauntswere
　　continuallyhoveringaroundher；formaidenauntsareapttotake
　　greatinterestinaffairsofthisnature。Theyweregivingheraworld
　　ofstaidcounselhowtodeportherself，whattosay，andinwhat
　　mannertoreceivetheexpectedlover。
　　Thebaronwasnolessbusiedinpreparations。Hehad，intruth，
　　nothingexactlytodo：buthewasnaturallyafumingbustlinglittle
　　man，andcouldnotremainpassivewhenalltheworldwasinahurry。
　　Heworriedfromtoptobottomofthecastlewithanairofinfinite
　　anxiety；hecontinuallycalledtheservantsfromtheirworkto
　　exhortthemtobediligent；andbuzzedabouteveryhallandchamber，
　　asidlyrestlessandimportunateasablue—bottleflyonawarm
　　summer’sday。
　　Inthemeantimethefattedcalfhadbeenkilled；theforestshad
　　rungwiththeclamorofthehuntsmen；thekitchenwascrowdedwith
　　goodcheer；thecellarshadyieldedupwholeoceansofRhein—wein
　　andFerne—wein；andeventhegreatHeidelbergtunhadbeenlaid
　　undercontribution。Everythingwasreadytoreceivethedistinguished
　　guestwithSausundBrausinthetruespiritofGermanhospitality—
　　buttheguestdelayedtomakehisappearance。Hourrolledafter
　　hour。Thesun，thathadpouredhisdownwardraysupontherich
　　forestoftheOdenwald，nowjustgleamedalongthesummitsofthe
　　mountains。Thebaronmountedthehighesttower，andstrainedhis
　　eyesinhopeofcatchingadistantsightofthecountandhis
　　attendants。Oncehethoughthebeheldthem；thesoundofhornscame
　　floatingfromthevalley，prolongedbythemountainechoes。Anumber
　　ofhorsemenwereseenfarbelow，slowlyadvancingalongtheroad；
　　butwhentheyhadnearlyreachedthefootofthemountain，they
　　suddenlystruckoffinadifferentdirection。Thelastrayofsunshine
　　departed—thebatsbegantoflitbyinthetwilight—theroadgrew
　　dimmeranddimmertotheview；andnothingappearedstirringinitbut
　　nowandthenapeasantlagginghomewardfromhislabor。
　　WhiletheoldcastleofLandshortwasinthisstateofperplexity，a
　　veryinterestingscenewastransactinginadifferentpartofthe
　　Odenwald。