The Pilgrims of the Rhine
Page 65
"They come not," said Pipalee; "yet the banquet is prepared, and thepoor queen will be glad of some refreshment."
"What a pity! all the rose-leaves will be over-broiled," said Nip.
"Let us amuse ourselves with the old painter," quoth Trip, springingover the ruins.
"Well said," cried Pipalee and Nip; and all three, leaving my lordtreasurer amazed at their levity, whisked into the painter's apartment.Permitting them to throw the ink over their victim's papers, break hispencils, mix his colours, mislay his nightcap, and go whiz against hisface in the shape of a great bat, till the astonished Frenchman beganto think the pensive goblins of the place had taken a sprightly fit,--wehasten to a small green spot some little way from the town, in thevalley of the Neckar, and by the banks of its silver stream. It wascircled round by dark trees, save on that side bordered by the river.The wild-flowers sprang profusely from the turf, which yet was smoothand singularly green. And there was the German fairy describing acircle round the spot, and making his elvish spells; and Nymphalin satdroopingly in the centre, shading her face, which was bowed down as thehead of a water-lily, and weeping crystal tears.
There came a hollow murmur through the trees, and a rush as of a mightywind, and a dark form emerged from the shadow and approached the spot.
The face was wrinkled and old, and stern with a malevolent and evilaspect. The frame was lean and gaunt, and supported by a staff, and ashort gray mantle covered its bended shoulders.
"Things of the moonbeam!" said the form, in a shrill and ghastly voice,"what want ye here; and why charm ye this spot from the coming of me andmine?"
"Dark witch of the blight and blast," answered the fairy, "THOU thatnippest the herb in its tender youth, and eatest up the core of thesoft bud; behold, it is but a small spot that the fairies claim fromthy demesnes, and on which, through frost and heat, they will keep theherbage green and the air gentle in its sighs!"
"And, wherefore, O dweller in the crevices of the earth, whereforewouldst thou guard this spot from the curses of the seasons?"
"We know by our instinct," answered the fairy, "that this spot willbecome the grave of one whom the fairies love; hither, by an unfeltinfluence, shall we guide her yet living steps; and in gazing upon thisspot shall the desire of quiet and the resignation to death steal uponher soul. Behold, throughout the universe, all things are at war withone another,--the lion with the lamb; the serpent with the bird; andeven the gentlest bird itself with the moth of the air; or the worm ofthe humble earth! What then to men, and to the spirits transcendingmen, is so lovely and so sacred as a being that harmeth none; what sobeautiful as Innocence; what so mournful as its untimely tomb? And shallnot that tomb be sacred; shall it not be our peculiar care? May we notmourn over it as at the passing away of some fair miracle in Nature,too tender to endure, too rare to be forgotten? It is for this, O dreadwaker of the blast, that the fairies would consecrate this little spot;for this they would charm away from its tranquil turf the wanderingghoul and the evil children of the night. Here, not the ill-omened owl,nor the blind bat, nor the unclean worm shall come. And thou shouldsthave neither will nor power to nip the flowers of spring, nor sear thegreen herbs of summer. Is it not, dark mother of the evil winds,--isit not _our_ immemorial office to tend the grave of Innocence, and keepfresh the flowers round the resting-place of Virgin Love?"
Then the witch drew her cloak round her, and muttered to herself, andwithout further answer turned away among the trees and vanished, as thebreath of the east wind, which goeth with her as her comrade, scatteredthe melancholy leaves along her path!