Ermentrude never spared him what interested her;
and, partly from her lips, partly through her appeals to her
attendant, he had learnt that life had better things to offer than
independence on these bare rocks, and that homage might open the way
to higher and worthier exploits than preying upon overturned waggons.
Dietrich of Berne and his two ancestors, whose lengthy legend
Christina could sing in a low, soft recitative, were revelations to
him of what she meant by a true knight--the lion in war, the lamb in
peace; the quaint oft-repeated portraits, and still quainter cities,
of the Chronicle, with her explanations and translations, opened his
mind to aspirations for intercourse with his fellows, for an
honourable name, and for esteem in its degree such as was paid to Sir
Parzival, to Karl the Great, or to Rodolf of Hapsburgh, once a
mountain lord like himself. Nay, as Ermentrude said, stroking his
cheek, and smoothing the flaxen beard, that somehow had become much
less rough and tangled than it used to be, "Some day wilt thou be
another Good Freiherr Eberhard, whom all the country-side loved, and
who gave bread at the castle-gate to all that hungered.
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