Thus was carried on the game of the heroes in the Prince's hall, until the dancers stopped, as if by magic, in the position of fighters, two against two. Then began again the dance-song of the dancers, and making a solemn salute, they glided with slow steps away, and went in procession out of the hall. From the seats there sounded a storm of applause, the guests sprang up in ecstasy, and called out joyful thanks to the dancers.

A nobleman named Rothari, who was near the Prince, rose up, and began:

"I speak as I think; more skilful sword-play have my eyes never seen among other people, and we Thuringians are the most famous upon the earth for such skill. But lower down there, on the bench of the Prince, sits a stranger, powerful in warlike performances. And if I value him according to the capacity which he has shown this day, I would place his seat high among the strong. Yet the gods divide their gifts unequally; even a stranger who does not know his ancestors may become an honorable warrior. People say that the news of the Roman battle came first into our country from the Prince's house; and when I saw the stranger, I considered him as the messenger; but the throw of the club showed that he belonged to the East. I give the health of the guest in the hall."

Ingo rose and returned thanks. Then Theodulf called out aloud:

"I have seen many leap and swing on soft turf, who forgot higher leaps in the field of battle."

"Thou speakest right," replied Ingo, coldly; "yet jealousy gnaws the soul of many a one because he himself has not sprung highest on the turf."

"The man who bears scars on the front of his body, is esteemed more worthy of honor among us than a leaper," answered Theodolf.

"But I have learned from the old and wise that it is more glorious to give deep wounds than to bear them."

"Certainly the dignity becomes thee of a Chief before whom his retinue holds the shield against hostile spears, that his rosy countenance may endure for the pleasure of the people," retorted scornfully the Prince's man.

"And I have heard many a one who received a sword-stroke cluck over it like a hen over its egg," replied Ingo, contemptuously.

"The skirt conceals also unglorious wounds, the traces of strokes which have fallen on the back," exclaimed Theodolf, with flaming countenance.

"But I call the malicious tongue inglorious, which taunts the friendly guest in the hall. Methinks such speech is not honorable; false Roman customs do not become the Thuringian."

"Dost thou know so well the customs of the Romans?" called out from another table a wild warrior of Theodulf's kinsfolk; "then thou must also have felt their strokes."

"I have stood in fight against the Roman warriors," cried out Ingo, forgetting himself. "Ask in their camp after thy kinsman; not every one can give thee an answer who has been near my sword."

Loud cries filled the hall when the stranger betrayed that he had stood against the Romans. "Thou hast spoken well, stranger," was exclaimed on all sides; but again, from another table, "The stranger boasts wrongly of an evil deed; hurrah, hurrah, Theodulf!"

The Prince rose and called out with a powerful voice: "I bid the war-words cease; I admonish all to peace in the festive hall." Then the loud cries ceased, but the strife of opinions continued noisily about all the tables; eyes flamed, and strong hands were raised. During the confusion a youth from the retinue of the Chieftain sprang up the steps, and cried out in the hall: "Volkmar the minstrel rides into the courtyard!"

"He is welcome," exclaimed the Prince. And turning to the seat of the ladies, he continued: "Irmgard, my child, greet thy teacher, and guide him to our table." Thus ordered the prudent host, to remind the wranglers of the presence of the ladies. His words acted like magic on the boisterous crowd; gloomy countenances became bright, and many a one seized his mug, and took a deep drink, in order to put an end to his discontent, and prepare himself for the song of the minstrel. But Irmgard stepped out of the arbor, and walked through the rows of men to the threshold. On the steps of the hall stood crowded together the young men of the village, staring inquisitively into the hall. Irmgard passed through the crowd, and in the courtyard awaited the minstrel, who was preparing himself for the feast, under the veranda. He came up to her with a respectful greeting: he was a man of moderate height and bright eyes; his curly golden hair was streaked with grey; he wore gracefully his overcoat of colored cloth; his naked arms were adorned with gold circlets; he had a chain around his neck, and a stringed instrument in his hand.

"Thou comest at a good time, Volkmar," the noble maiden exclaimed to him. "They are at strife with each other; it is necessary that thy song should raise their hearts. Make use today of thy skill, and if thou canst, sing them something joyful."

"What has disturbed their spirits?" asked the minstrel, who was accustomed to employ his art like a clever doctor. "Is it against the wild household of King Bisino that they are angry? Or do they dispute over the Roman invasion?"

"The young men do not keep the peace," answered the Prince's daughter.

"Is it nothing more?" inquired the minstrel, indifferently. "It would be useless trouble to try to hinder their passage at arms on the greensward." But when he perceived the serious countenance of the noble maiden, he added: "If they are the madcaps of the house, lady, I fear that my song will not do away with their jealousy. If I could put thy friendly smile into my song, and whisper it in the ear of each one, they would all follow me like lambs. Yet what I bring today," he added, changing his tone, "is so terrible that they will certainly forget their quarrel in listening to it. It is a bad addition to a festive meal; yet I must go in and tell them the tale. I do not know whether they will then still desire a song."

"Wilt thou tell them the sorrowful news at the repast?" asked the noble maiden, anxiously; "that will make their spirits heavy, and rouse them to anger."

"Surely thou knowest me," replied the minstrel; "I shall give them only as much as they can bear. Whom has the Prince invited to the hall?"

"They are old friends."

"Are there strangers among them?"

"No one," answered the noble maiden, hesitatingly, "save a poor wanderer."

"Then be without anxiety," concluded the minstrel; "I know the disposition of our people, and how one must mix their evening drink for them."

While the noble maiden went through a side door to the arbor, the minstrel entered the hall. As he stood on the threshold a hurrah and greeting echoed again loud from the roof.

With pride Volkmar perceived that he was a favorite; he passed with agile step into the open space before the table of the Chieftain, and bowed low to him and to the Princess.

"A thousand times welcome to thee, thou beloved of the people!" the Prince called out to him; "the birds of our district which departed in the winter have long been singing their summer song; only for the singer of the heroes have we looked in vain."

"I have not heard the birds in the air announcing the summer. I have only heard the warhounds of the gods howling in the wind, and looked at the colored cloud-bridges on which the heroes in endless hosts have been carried up to the halls of the gods. I saw the Rhine flowing in red waves, covered with bodies of men and horses. I beheld the battlefield, and the bloody valley where heaps of the slain lay as food for the ravens, and I know that Kings with fettered limbs are awaiting execution in the Roman camp."

A loud outcry followed these words. "Give us an account, Volkmar; we listen," said the Prince.

The minstrel passed his fingers over the strings; there was such a stillness in the room that one might have heard the deep breathing of the guests. Then he touched the strings, and began, first relating, then singing with raised voice and melodious cadence, his account of the battle between the Allemanns and the Romans. He gave the name of the Kings and the Kings' children who had gone with the Allemanns over the Rhine against Cæsar, and had in the first instance put the horsemen of Rome to flight, as well as the first rank in the battle. After that he sang:

"Behind the second rank of the Roman host Cæsar rode, giving orders from his horse; over him floated as a banner the picture of a dragon --- the gigantic reptile with spiral body, the holy battle-sign of the Romans; the reptile was red and purple, and out of its widespread jaws proceeded tongues of flame. And Cæsar called the Bavarians and Franks to the front.

"Forward, you German heroes! my Romans can not stand the assault of the enemy.' The herald rode forward, and the Franks, shining brightly, raised themselves from the ground, and arranged their troops. Aimo, son of Arnfried, swung his sword powerfully in front of the battle."

"That is my brother!" called out one from one of the tables. "Health to Aimo!" was called out from another corner of the hall.

"They marched on in straight line, their white shields adorned with the picture of the bull. Severe was the pressure; as flames of fire along the heath, so did their swords clear the battlefield from the assault of the Allemanns. Once again with fresh vigor sprang forward the Allemanns, the King's foremost, and again the Romans gave way. Then Cæsar ordered up his last troops, which in the Roman army are called by the generals the 'Thorn-fence.'"

"Archibald!" was called out wildly in the hall; "Eggo!" from another side.

"There stood as leader over a hundred men a Hunnic comrade, the Thuringian Archibald, and Eggo, his mother's son, much experienced in the Roman customs of war. They fixed their knees firmly on the ground, they covered their bodies with linden shields and defended themselves with fixed spears as a threefold buckler. Again the Allemanns dashed on; the shields cracked under the strokes of the ax, the spears passed through armor and body, the dead sank in long rows, and over the bodies of the fallen pressed the throng, shield against shield, and breast against breast, like a fight of bulls in an enclosed pen.

"Then the fortune of war departed from the Allemanns; they were driven backward, they were dismayed at the heaps of dying comrades. The sun sank, and the chances of the war were gone. The scattered bands fled to the shore of the stream, and behind them stormed the Romans with knife and spear, like a pack of hounds after the deer; the flying people sprang into the Rhine, the conquerors on the bank threw their spears with loud cries into a wild crowd of men and horses, of dead bodies and drowning heroes; the Nixy of the stream stretched his clawing hands around, and drew the heroes into the depths, down to his own abode."

The minstrel stopped. A loud groan passed through the assembly --- only a single hurrah sounded in the midst of it; the Prince listened attentively to the outbreak of sorrow and of joy.

Then Volkmar continued, changing the tones of sorrow to a more stirring melody:

" Cæsar approached the bank of the river, and stood smiling down on the men in their distress. He called out to his banner-bearer, who carried the dragon, the red monster worked in purple, in which the God of the Romans had placed a victory spell --- the death of the enemy--- 'Let the dragon float over the stream, that he may show his teeth and flaming tongue to the dying people! High in the air he flies toward the heavenly halls of the dead; when they rise on the cloud-bridge, he will show his teeth; the Roman dragon will stop their journey, they will descend the road to the fishes, down in the darkness to Hela's gate!"

"Then was the insult revenged by the last hero who withstood the Romans in arms --- Ingo, the son of Ingbert, from the land of the Vandals, the King's son, of the race of the gods. He had fought by the side of King Athanarich, foremost in the fight, terror of the Romans. When the fortune of battle turned, he retreated with his retinue, that had followed him on the warpath from country to country; slowly and angrily, like a growling bear, he retreated to the bank, where at the foot of the rocks the boats lay.