"So the son abode with his father.
"After a time the father inquired of his son what were the court customs where he had been living. 'I also,' he said, 'went once when I was a boy, with cheese and eggs to court. The knights were then very different from now, courteous, and with good manners; they occupied themselves with knightly games, they danced and sang with the ladies; when the musician came with his fiddle, the ladies stood up, the knights advanced to them, took them elegantly by the hand, and danced featly; when that was over, one of them read out of a book about one Ernst;[9] all was carried on then with cheerful familiarity. Some shot at a mark with bow and arrows, others went out hunting and deer shooting; the worst of them would now be the best. For now those are esteemed who are liars and eaves-droppers, and truth and honour are changed for falsehood; the old tournaments are no longer the custom, others are in vogue instead of them. Formerly one heard them call out in the knightly games "Hurrah, knight, be joyful!" There now only resounds through the air, "Hunt knight, hunt; stab, strike, and mutilate this one, cut off this man's foot for me, and the hands of that one, and hang the other for me, or catch this rich man who will pay us a hundred pounds." I think, therefore, things were better formerly than now. Relate to me, my son, more of the new manners.'
"'That I will. Drinking is now the court fashion. Gentlemen exclaim "Drink, drink; if you drink this, I will drink that." They no longer sit with the ladies, but at their wine. Believe me, the old mode of life which is lived by such as you, is now abjured both by man and woman. Excommunication and outlawry are now held in derision.'
"'Son,' said the father, 'have nothing to do with court usages, they are bitter and sour. I had much rather be a peasant than a poor courtling, who must always ride for his living, and take care that his enemies do not catch, mutilate, and hang him.'
"'Father,' said the young man, 'I thank you, but it is more than a week that I have drank no wine; since then I have taken in my girdle by three holes. I must capture some cattle before my buckle will return to its former place. A rich man has done me a great injury. I saw him once riding over the standing crops of my godfather the knight; he shall pay dear for it. I shall trot off his cattle, sheep, and swine, because he has trampled over the fields of my dear godfather. I know another rich man who has also grievously injured me; he eat bread with his tartlets; by my life I will revenge that. I know yet another rich man who has occasioned me more annoyance than almost any other; I will not forgive it him, even if a bishop should intercede for him, for once when he was sitting at table he most improperly dropped his girdle. If I can seize what is called his, it shall help me to a Christmas dress. There is yet another simple fool who was unseemly enough to blow the froth of his beer into a goblet. If I do not revenge that, I will never gird sword to my side, nor be worthy of a wife. You shall soon hear of Helmbrecht.'
"The father answered 'Alack! Tell me who are the companions who taught you to rob a rich man if he eats pastry and bread together.' Then the son named his ten companions; 'Lämmerschling (lamb devourer), Schluckdenwidder (ram swallower), Höllensack (hell sack), Ruttelshrein (shake press), Kühfrass (cow destroyer), Knickekelch (goblet jerker), Wolfsgaumen (wolf's jaw), Wolfsrüssel (wolf's snout), and Wolfsdarm (wolf's gut)[10]--the last name was given by the noble Duchess of Nonarra Narreia--these are my schoolmasters.'
"The father said, 'And how do they name you?'
"I am called Schlingdengau. I am not the delight of the peasants; their children are obliged to eat porridge made with water; what the peasants have is mine; I gouge the eyes of one, I hack the back of another, I tie this one down on an ant-hill, and another I hang by his legs to a willow.'
"The father broke forth. 'Son, however violent those may be whom you have named and extolled, yet I hope, if there is a righteous God, the day will come when the hangman may seize them, and throw them off from his ladder.'
"'Father, I have often defended your geese and fowls, your cattle and fodder, from my associates, I will do it no more. You speak too much against the honour of my excellent companions. I had wished to make your daughter Gotelind the wife of my friend Lämmerschling; she would have led a pleasant life with him; but that is over now, you have spoken too coarsely against us.' He took his sister Gotelind aside, and said to her secretly, 'When my companion, Lämmerschling, first asked me about you, I said to him; you will get on well with her; if you take her do not fear that you will hang long upon the tree, she will take you down with her own hands and carry you to the grave on the cross-road, and she will fumigate your bones with frankincense and myrrh for a whole year. And if you have the good fortune to be only blinded, she will lead you by the hand along the highways and roads through all countries; if your foot is cut off, she will carry your crutches every morning to your bed; and if you lose your hand, she will cut your bread and meat as long as you live. Then said Lämmerschling to me, "I have three sacks, heavy as lead, full of fine linen, dresses, kirtles, and costly jewels, with scarlet cloth and furs. I have concealed them in a neighbouring cave, and will give them to her for a dowry." All this, Gotelind, you have lost, owing to your father; now give your hand to a peasant, with whom you may dig turnips, and at night lie on the heart of an ignoble boor. Go to your father, for mine he is not; I am sure that a courtier has been my father, from him I have my high spirit.'
"The foolish sister answered, 'Dear brother Schlingdengau, persuade your companion to marry me, I will leave father, mother, and relations.' The parents were unaware of the conversation held secretly by the brother and sister. The brother said, 'I will send a messenger to you, whom you are to follow; hold yourself in readiness. God protect you, I go from hence; the host here is as little to me as I to him. Mother, God bless you.' So he went on his old way, and told his companion his sister's wish. He kissed his hands for joy, and made obeisance to the wind that blew from Gotelind.
"Many widows and orphans were robbed of their property when the hero Lämmerschling and his wife Gotelind sat at their marriage feast. Young men actively conveyed in waggons and on horses stolen food and drink to the house of Lämmerschling's father. When Gotelind came, the bridegroom met her, and received her with, 'Welcome, dame Gotelind.' 'God reward you, Herr Lämmerschling.' So they gave each other a friendly greeting. And an old man, wise of speech, rose, and placing both in the circle, asked three times of the man and the maiden, 'Will you take each other in marriage, yea or nay?' So they were united. All sang the bridal song, and the bridegroom trod on the foot of the bride.[11] Then was the marriage feast prepared. It was wonderful how the food disappeared before the youths, as if a wind blew it from the table; they eat incessantly of everything that was brought from the kitchen by the servants, and there remained nothing but bare bones for the dogs. It is said that any one who eats so immoderately approaches his end.[12] Gotelind began to shudder and to exclaim, 'Woe to us! Some misfortune approaches; my heart is so heavy! Woe is me that I have abandoned my father and mother; whoever desires too much, will gain little; this greediness leads to the abyss of hell.'
"They had sat awhile after their meal, and the musicians had received their gifts from the bride and bridegroom, when a magistrate appeared with five men. The struggle was short; the magistrate with his five, was victorious over the ten; for a real thief, however bold he may be, and willing to confront a whole army, is defenceless against the hangman. The robbers slipped into the stove and under the benches, and he who would not have fled before four, was now by the hangman's servant alone dragged out by the hair. Gotelind lost her bridal dress, and was found behind a hedge terrified, stripped, and degraded. The skins of the cattle which the thieves had stolen were bound round their necks, as the perquisite of the magistrate. The bridegroom, in honour of the day carried only two, the others more. The magistrate could sooner have been bribed to spare a wild wolf than these robbers. Nine were hung by the hangman; the life of the tenth was allowed to the hangman as his right, and this tenth was Schlingdengau Helmbrecht; the hangman revenged