KONRAD WALLENROD.
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boisterous assembly, was sitting silent, with his head bent on his breast; yet he seemed to labour under great emotions. From time to time he turned to wine, and quaffed the contents of many a cup.
But soon his countenance visibly changed: different feelings, like sudden lightnings, crossed his burning cheeks. The threatening cloud grew thicker on his brow; his lips became livid, and trembled; and his haggard eyes shifted swiftly, like swallows during a tempest. At last, throwing off his mantle, he rushed to the middle of the hall. "What is the end of the song?" exclaimed he, "Instantly sing the end, or give me thy lute. Why dost thou stand trembling? Give me the lute, and fill the cups. I will sing the end, if thou art afraid.
