And Burgundy, his heart forsook him,
To see that mild old gray-hair’d man;
His face grew pale, a trembling took him,
He swoon’d and sank to earth again.
“O, saints of heaven,” he wakes and cries,
“Is’t thou that art before my eyes?
How shall I fly? Where shall I hide me?
Was’t thou that in the wood didst guide me?
I kill’d thy children young and fair,
Me in thy arms how couldst thou bear?”
Thus Burgundy goes on to wail,
And feels the heart within him fail;
Death is at hand, remorse pursues him,
With streaming eyes he sinks on Eckart’s bosom;
And Eckart whispers to him low:
“Henceforth I have forgot the slight,
So thou and all the world may know,
Eckart was still thy trusty knight.”
Thus passed the hours till morning, when some other servants of the Duke arrived, and found their dying master. They laid him on a mule, and took him back to his castle. Eckart he could not suffer from his side; he would often take his hand and press it to his breast, and look at him with an imploring look. Then Eckart would embrace him, and speak a few kind words to him, and so the Prince would feel composed. At last he summoned all his Council, and declared to them that he appointed Eckart, the trusty man, to be guardian of his sons, seeing he had proved himself the noblest of all. And thus he died.
Thenceforward Eckart took on him the government with all zeal; and every person in the land admired his high manly spirit. Not long afterwards a rumour spread abroad in all quarters, of a strange Musician, who had come from Venus-Hill, who was travelling through the whole land, and seducing men with his playing, so that they disappeared, and no one could find any traces of them. Many credited the story, others not; Eckart recollected the unhappy old man.
“I have taken you for my sons,” said he to the young Princes, as he once stood with them on the hill before the Castle; “your happiness must now be my posterity; when
