The Two Captains
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La Motte Fouque, Friedrich Heinrich Karl, Freiherr de >> The Two Captains
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
by Friedrich Heinrich Karl, Freiherr de La Motte-Fouque
CHAPTER I.
A Mild summer evening was resting on the shores of Malaga, awakening
the guitar of many a merry singer among the ships in the harbor, and
in the city houses, and in many an ornamental garden villa.
Emulating the voices of the birds, the melodious tones greeted the
refreshing coolness, and floated like perfumed exhalations from
meadow and water, over the enchanting region. Some troops of
infantry who were on the shore, and who purposed to spend the night
there, that they might be ready for embarkation early on the
following morning, forgot amid the charms of the pleasant eventide
that they ought to devote these last few hours on European soil to
ease and slumber; they began to sing military songs, to drink to each
other with their flasks filled to the brim with the rich wine of
Xeres, toasting to the long life of the mighty Emperor Charles V.,
who was now besieging the pirate-nest Tunis, and to whose assistance
they were about to sail. The merry soldiers were not all of one
race. Only two companies consisted of Spaniards; the third was
formed of pure Germans, and now and then among the various fellow-
combatants the difference of manners and language had given rise to
much bantering. Now, however, the fellowship of the approaching sea-
voyage and of the glorious perils to be shared, as well as the
refreshing feeling which the soft southern evening poured over soul
and sense, united the band of comrades in perfect and undisturbed
harmony. The Germans tried to speak Castilian, and the Spaniards to
speak German, without its occurring to any one to make a fuss about
the mistakes and confusions that happened. They mutually helped each
other, thinking of nothing else but the good-will of their
companions, each drawing near to his fellow by means of his own
language.
Somewhat apart from the merry tumult, a young German captain, Sir
Heimbert of Waldhausen, was reclining under a cork-tree, gazing
earnestly up at the stars, apparently in a very different mood to the
fresh, merry sociability which his comrades knew and loved in him.
Presently the Spanish captain, Don Fadrique Mendez, approached him;
he was a youth like the other, and was equally skilled in martial
exercises, but he was generally as austere and thoughtful as Heimbert
was cheerful and gentle. "Pardon, Senor," began the solemn Spaniard,
"if I disturb you in your meditations. But as I have had the honor
of often seeing you as a courageous warrior and faithful brother in
amrs in many a hot encounter, I would gladly solicit you above all
others to do me a knightly service, if it does not interfere with
your own plans and projects for this night." "Dear sir," returned
Heimbert courteously, "I have certainly an affair of importance to
attend to before sunrise, but till midnight I am perfectly free, and
ready to render you any assistance as a brother in aims." "Enough,"
said Fadrique, "for at midnight the tones must long have ceased with
which I shall have taken farewell of the dearest being I have ever
known in this my native city. But that you may be as fully
acquainted with the whole affair as behoves a noble companion, listen
to me attentively for a few moments.
"Some time before I left Malaga to join the army of our great emperor
and to aid in spreading the glory of his arms through Italy, I was
devoted, after the fashion of young knights, to the service of a
beautiful girl in this city, named Lucila. She had at that time
scarcely reached the period which separates childhood from ripe
maidenhood, and as I--a boy only just capable of bearing arms--
offered my homage with a childlike, friendly feeling, it was also
received by my young mistress in a similar childlike manner. I
marched at length to Italy, and as you yourself know, for we have
been companions since then, I was in many a hot fight and in many an
enchantingly alluring region in that luxurious land. Amid all our
changes, I held unalterably within me the image of my gentle
mistress, never pausing in the honorable service I had vowed to her,
although I cannot conceal from you that in so doing it was rather to
fulfil the word I had pledged at my departure than from any impelling
and immoderately ardent feeling in my heart. When we returned to my
native city from our foreign wanderings, a few weeks ago, I found my
mistress married to a rich and noble knight residing here. Fiercer
far than love had been was the jealousy--that almost almighty child
of heaven and hell--which now spurred me on to follow Lucila's steps,
from her home to the church, from thence to the house of a friend,
from thence again to her home or to some noble circle of knights and
ladies, and all this as unweariedly and as closely as was possible.
When I had at length assured myself that no other young knight
attended her, and that she devoted herself entirely to the husband
chosen for her by her parents rather than desired by herself, I felt
perfectly satisfied, and I should not have troubled you at this
moment had not Lucila approached me the day before yesterday and
whispered in my ear that I must not provoke her husband, for he was
very passionate and bold; that not the slightest danger threatened
her in the matter, because he loved and honored her above everything,
but that his wrath would vent itself all the more furiously upon me.
You can readily understand, my noble comrade, that I could not help
proving my contempt of all personal danger by following Lucila more
closely than ever, and singing nightly serenades beneath her flower-
decked windows till the morning star began to be reflected in the
sea. This very night Lucila's husband sets out at midnight for
Madrid, and from that hour I will in every way avoid the street in
which they live; until then, however, as soon as it is sufficiently
dark to be suitable for a serenade, I will have love-romances
unceasingly sang before his house. It is true I have information
that not only he but Lucila's brothers are really to enter upon a
quarrel with me, and it is for this reason, Senor, that I have
requested you to bear me company with your good sword in this short
expedition."
Heimbert seized the Spaniard's hand as a pledge of his readiness,
saying as he did so, "To show you, dear sir, how gladly I will do
what you desire of me, I will requite your confidence with
confidence, and will relate a little incident which occurred to me in
this city, and will beg you after midnight also to render me a small
service. My story is short, and will not detain us longer than we
must wait before the twilight has become deeper and more gloomy.
"On the day after we arrived here I amused myself with walking in the
beautiful gardens with which the place abounds. I have now been long
in these southern lands, but I cannot but believe that the dreams
which transport me nightly back to my German home are the cause for
my feeling everything here so strange and astonishing. At all
events, every morning when I wake I wonder anew, as if I were only
just arrived. So I was walking then, like one infatuated, among the
aloe trees, which were scattered among the laurels and oleanders.
Suddenly a cry sounded near me, and a slender girl, dressed in white,
fled into my arms, fainting, while her companions dispersed past us
in every direction. A soldier can always tolerably soon gather his
senses together, and I speedily perceived a furious bull was pursuing
the beautiful maiden. I threw her quickly over a thickly planted
hedge, and followed her myself, upon which the beast, blind with
rage, passed us by, and I have heard no more of it since, except that
some young knights in an adjacent courtyard had been making a trial
with it previous to a bull-fight, and that it was on this account
that it had broken so furiously through the gardens.
"I was now standing quite alone, with the fainting lady in my arms,
and she was so wonderfully beautiful to look at that I have never in
my life felt happier than I then did, and also never sadder. At last
I laid her down on the turf, and sprinkled her angelic brow, with
water from a neighboring little fountain. And so she came to herself
again, and when she opened her bright and lovely eyes I thought I
could imagine how the glorified spirits must feel in heaven.
"She thanked me with graceful and courteous words, and called me her
knight; but in my state of enchantment I could not utter a syllable,
and she must have almost thought me dumb. At length my speech
returned, and the prayer at once was breathed forth from my heart,
that the sweet lady would often again allow me to see her in this
garden; for that in a few weeks the service of the emperor would
drive me into the burning land of Africa, and that until then she
should vouchsafe me the happiness of beholding her. She looked at me
half smiling, half sadly, and said, 'Yes.' And she has kept her word
and has appeared almost daily, without our having yet spoken much to
each other. For although she has been sometimes quite alone, I
could never begin any other topic but that of the happiness of
walking by her side. Often she has sung to me, and I have sung to
her also. When I told her yesterday that our departure was so near,
her heavenly eyes seemed to me suffused with tears. I must also have
looked sorrowful, for she said to me, in a consoling tone, 'Oh,
pious, childlike warrior! one may trust you as one trusts an angel.'
After midnight, before the morning dawn breaks for your departure, I
give you leave to take farewell of me in this very spot. If you
could, however, find a true and discreet comrade to watch the
entrance from the street, it would be well, for many a soldier may be
passing at that hour through the city on his way from some farewell
carouse. Providence has now sent me such a comrade, and at one
o'clock I shall go joyfully to the lovely maiden."
"I only wish the service on which you require me were more rich in
danger," rejoined Fadrique, "so that I might better prove to you that
I am yours with life and limb. But come, noble brother, the hour for
my adventure is arrived."
And wrapped in their mantles, the youths walked hastily toward the
city, Fadrique carrying his beautiful guitar under his arm.
CHAPTER II.
The night-smelling flowers in Lucila's window were already beginning
to emit their refreshing perfume when Fadrique, leaning in the shadow
of the angle of an old church opposite, began to tune his guitar.
Heimbert had stationed himself not far from him, behind a pillar, his
drawn sword under his mantle, and his clear blue eyes, like two
watching stars, looking calmly and penetrating around. Fadrique
sang:
"Upon a meadow green with spring,
A little flower was blossoming,
With petals red and snowy white;
To me, a youth, my soul's delight
Within that blossom lay,
And I have loved my song to indite
And flattering homage pay.
"Since then a wanderer I have been,
And many a bloody strife have seen;
And now returned, I see
The little floweret stands no more
Upon the meadow as before;
Transplanted by a gardener's care,
And hedged by golden trellis there,
It is denied to me.
"I grudge him not his trelllsed guard,
His bolts of iron, strongly barred;
Yet, wandering in the cool night-air,
I touch my zither's string,
And as afore her beauties rare,
Her wondrous graces sing,
And e'en the gardener shall not dare
Refuse the praise I bring."
"That depends, Senor," said a man, stepping close, and as he thought
unobserved, before Fadrique; but the latter had already been informed
of his approach by a sign from his watchful friend, and he was
therefore ready to answer with the greater coolness, "If you wish,
Senor, to commence a suit with my guitar, she has, at all events, a
tongue of steel, which has already on many occasions done her
excellent service. With whom is it your pleasure to speak, with the
guitar or the advocate?"
While the stranger was silent from embarrassment, two mantled figures
had approached Heimbert and remained standing a few steps from him,
as if to cut off Fadrique's flight in case he intended to escape.
"I believe, dear sirs," said Heimbert in a courteous tone, "we are
here on the same errand--namely, to prevent any intrusion upon the
conference of yonder knights. At least, as far as I am concerned,
you may rely upon it that any one who attempts to interfere in their
affair will receive my dagger in his heart. Be of good cheer,
therefore; I think we shall both do our duty." The two gentlemen
bowed courteously and were silent.
The quiet self-possession with which the two soldiers carried on the
whole affair was most embarrassing to their three adversaries, and
they were at a loss to know how they should begin the dispute. At
last Fadrique again touched the strings of his guitar, and was
preparing to begin another song. This mark of contempt and apparent
disregard of danger and hazard so enraged Lucila's husband (for it
was he who had taken his stand by Don Fadrique) that without further
delay he drew his sword from his sheath, and with a voice of
suppressed rage called out, "Draw, or I shall stab you!" "Very
gladly, Senor," replied Fadrique quietly; "you need not threaten me;
you might as well have said so calmly." And so saying he placed his
guitar carefully in a niche in the church wall, seized bis sword,
and, bowing gracefully to his opponent, the fight, began.
At first the two figures by Heimbert's side, who were Lucila's
brothers, remained quite quiet; but when Fadrique began to get the
better of their brother-in-law they appeared as if they intended to
take part in the fight. Heimbert therefore made his mighty sword
gleam in the moonlight, and said, "Dear sirs, you will not surely
oblige me to execute that of which I previously assured you? I pray
you not to compel me to do so; but if it cannot be otherwise, I must
honorably keep my word, you may rely upon it." The two young men
remained from that time motionless, surprised both at the decision
and at the true-hearted friendliness that lay in Heimbert's words.
Meanwhile Don Fadrique, although pressing hard upon his adversary,
had generously avoided wounding him, and when at last by a dexterous
movement he wrested his sword from him. Lucila's husband, surprised
at the unexpected advantage, and in alarm at being thus disarmed,
retreated a few steps. But Fadrique threw the weapon adroitly into
the air, and catching it again near the point of the blade, he said,
as he gracefully presented the hilt to his opponent, "Take it, Senor,
and I hope our affair of honor is now settled, as you will grant
under these circumstances that I am only here to show that I fear no
sword-thrust in the world. The bell of the old cathedral is now
ringing twelve o'clock, and I give you my word of honor as a knight
and a soldier that neither is Dona Lucila pleased with my attentions
nor am I pleased with paying them; from henceforth, and were I to
remain a hundred years in Malaga, I would not continue to serenade
her in this spot. So proceed on your journey, and God be with you."
He then once more greeted his conquered adversary with serious and
solemn courtesy, and withdrew. Heimbert followed him, after having
cordially shaken hands with the two youths, saying, "No, dear young
sirs, do not let it ever again enter your heads to interfere in any
honorable contest. Do you understand me?"
He soon overtook his companion, and walked on by his side so full of
ardent expectation, and with his heart beating so joyfully and yet so
painfully, that he could not utter a single word. Don Fadrique
Mendez was also silent; it was not till Heimbert paused before an
ornamented garden-gate, and pointed cheerfully to the pomegranate
boughs richly laden with fruits which overhung it, saying, "This is
the place, dear comrade," that the Spaniard appeared as if about to
ask a question, but turning quickly round he merely said, "I am
pledged to guard this entrance for you till dawn. You have my word
of honor for it." So saying he began walking to and fro before the
gate, with drawn sword, like a sentinel, and Heimbert, trembling with
joy, glided within the gloomy and aromatic shrubberies.
CHAPTER III
He was not long in seeking the bright star, which he indeed felt was
destined henceforth to guide the course of his whole life. The
delicate form approached him not far from the entrance; weeping
softly, it seemed to him, in the light of the full moon which was
just rising, and yet smiling with such infinite grace, that her tears
were rather like a pearly ornament than a veil of sorrow. In deep
and infinite joy and sorrow the two lovers wandered silently together
through the flowery groves; now and then a branch waving in the
night-air would touch the guitar on the lady's arm, and it would
breathe forth a slight murmur which blended with the song of the
nightingale, or the delicate fingers of the girl would tremble over
the strings and awaken a few scattered chords, while the shooting
stars seemed as if following the tones of the instrument as they died
away. Oh, truly happy was this night both to the youth and the
maiden, for no rash wish or impure desire passed even fleetingly
across their minds. They walked on side by side, happy that
Providence had allowed them this delight, and so little desiring any
other blessing that even the transitoriness of that they were now
enjoying floated away into the background of their thoughts.
In the middle ot the beautiful garden there was a large open lawn,
ornamented with statues and surrounding a beautiful and splashing
fountain. The two lovers sat down on its brink, now gazing at the
waters sparkling in the moonlight, and now delighting in the
contemplation of each other's beauty. The maiden touched her guitar,
and Heimbert, impelled by a feeling scarcely intelligible to himself,
sang the following words to it:
"There is a sweet life linked with mine,
But I cannot tell its name;
Oh, would it but to me consign
The secret of that life divine,
That so my lips in whispers sweet
And gentle songs might e'en repeat
All that my heart would fain proclaim!"
He suddenly paused, and blushed deeply, fearing he had been too bold.
The lady blushed also, touched her guitar-strings with a half-
abstracted air, and at last sang as if dreamily:
"By the spring where moonlight's gleams
O'er the sparkling waters pass,
Who is sitting by the youth,
Singing on the soft green grass?
Shall the maiden tell her name,
When though all unknown it be,
Her heart is glowing with her shame,
And her cheeks burn anxiously,
First, let the youthful knight be named.
'Tis he that on that glorious day
Fought in Castilla's proud array;
'Tis he the youth of sixteen years,
At Pavia, who his fortunes tried,
The Frenchman's fear, the Spaniard's pride.
Heimbert is the hero's name,
Victorious in many a fight!
And beside the valiant knight,
Sitting in the soft green grass,
Though her name her lips shall pass,
Dona Clara feels no shame "
"Oh!" said Heimbert, blushing from another cause than before, "oh,
Dona Clara, that affair at Pavia was nothing but a merry and
victorious tournament, and even if occasionally since then I have
been engaged in a tougher contest, how have I ever merited as a
reward the overwhelming bliss I am now enjoying! Now I know what
your name is, and I may in future address you by it, my angelic Dona
Clara, my blessed and beautiful Dona Clara! But tell me now, who has
given you such a favorable report of my achievements, that I may ever
regard him with grateful affection?"
"Does the noble Heimbert of Waldhausen suppose," rejoined Clara,
"that the noble houses of Spain had none of their sons where he stood
in the battle? You must have surely seen them fighting by your side,
and must I not have heard of your glories through the lips of my own
people?"
The silvery tones of a little bell sounded just then from a
neighboring palace, and Clara whispered, "It is time to part. Adieu,
my hero!" And she smiled on the youth through her gushing tears, and
bent toward him, and he almost fancied he felt a sweet kiss breathed
from her lips. When he fully recovered himself Clara had
disappeared, the morning clouds were beginning to wear the rosy hue
of dawn, and Heimbert, with a heaven of love's proud happiness in his
heart, returned to his watchful friend at the garden gate.
CHAPTER IV.
"Halt!" exclaimed Fadrique, as Heimbert appeared from the garden,
holding his drawn sword toward him ready for attack. "Stop, you are
mistaken, my good comrade," said the German, smiling, "it is I whom
you see before you." "Do not imagine, Knight Heimbert of
Waldhausen," said Fadrique, "that I mistake you. But my promise is
discharged, my hour of guard has been honorably kept, and now I beg
you without further delay to prepare yourself, and fight for your
life until heart's blood has ceased to flow through these veins."
"Good heavens!" sighed Heimbert, "I have often heard that in these
southern lands there are witches, who deprive people of their senses
by magic arts and incantations. But I have never experienced
anything of the sort until to-day. Compose yourself, my dear good
comrade, and go with me back to the shore." Fadrique laughed
fiercely, and answered, "Set aside your silly delusion, and if you
must have everything explained to you, word by word, in order to
understand it, know then that the lady whom you came to meet in the
shrubbery of this my garden is Dona Clara Mendez, my only sister.
Quick, therefore, and without further preamble, draw!" "God forbid!"
exclaimed the German, not touching his weapon. "You shall be my
brother-in-law, Fadrique, and not my murderer, and still less will I
be yours." Fadrique only shook his head indignantly, and advanced
toward his comrade with measured steps for an encounter. Heimbert,
however, still remained immovable, and said, "No, Fadrique, I cannot
now or ever do you harm. For besides the love I bear your sister, it
must certainly have been you who has spoken to her so honorably of my
military expeditions in Italy." "When I did so," replied Fadiique in
a fury, "I was a fool. But, dallying coward, out with your sword,
or--"
Before Fadrique had finished speaking, Heimbert, burning with
indignation, exclaimed, "The devil himself could not bear that!" and
drawing his sword from the scabbard, the two young captains rushed
fiercely and resolutely to the attack.
Different indeed was this contest to that previously fought by
Fadrique with Lucila's husband. The two young soldiers well
understood their weapons, and strove with each other with equal
boldness, their swords flashing like rays of light as now this one
now that one hurled a lightning thrust at his adversary, which was
with similar speed and dexterity turned aside. Firmly they pressed
the left foot, as if rooted in the ground, while the right advanced
to the bold onset and then again they quickly retired to the safer
attitude of defence. From the self-possession and the quiet
unremitting anger with which both the combatants fought, it was
evident that one of the two would find his grave under the
overhanging branches of the orange-tree, which were now tinged with
the red glow of morning, and this would undoubtedly have been the
case had not the report of a cannon from the harbor sounded through
the silence of the twilight.
The combatants paused, as if at some word of command to be obeyed by
both, and listened, counting to themselves; then, as each uttered the
number thirty, a second gun was heard. "It is the signal for
immediate embarkation, Senor," said Don Fadrique; "we are now in the
emperor's service, and all dispute ceases which is not against the
foes of Charles the Fifth." "Right," replied Heimbert, "but when
there is an end of Tunis and the whole war. I shall demand
satisfaction for that 'dallying coward.'" "And I for that in
intercourse with my sister," said Fadrique. "Certainly," rejoined
the other; and, so saying, the two captains hurried down to the
strand and arranged the embarkation of their troops; while the sun,
rising over the sea, shone upon them both in the same vessel.