Volume Iii Part 38 (2/2)
”For golden fidelity a golden dish,” he said. ”But who is thy brother?”
”Well,” the girl answered thoughtfully, ”from what Hunibad told me during the journey and upon his sick-bed, I think that the name my brother bears is not his real one. But he is easy to be known,” she added, blus.h.i.+ng. ”His locks are golden-brown; his eyes are blue as these s.h.i.+ning stones; his voice is as clear as the note of the lark; and when he plays his harp, he looks up as if he saw the heavens open.”
”Adalgoth!” cried the King.
”Adalgoth!” repeated all the guests.
The boy--he had heard the loud shout of his name--flew up the steps.
”My Gotho!” he exclaimed in a jubilant voice, and locked her in a tender embrace.
”Those two belong to each other,” said Duke Guntharis, who had followed the youth.
”Like the dawn and the rising sun,” added Teja.
”But now,” said the girl, as she quietly withdrew from Adalgoth's arms, ”let me fulfil my errand and the behest of my dying grandfather. Here, O King, take this roll and read it. In it is contained the fate of Adalgoth and Gotho; the past and the present, said our grandfather.”
CHAPTER XII.
The King broke the seals and read:
”'This is written by Hildegisel, the son of Hildemuth, whom they call ”the long;” once priest, now castellan at Teriolis. Written at the dictation of old Iffa; and it is all written down faithfully. Lo!--now it begins! The Latin is not always as good as that sung in the churches. But thou, O King, wilt understand it. For where it is bad Latin it is good Gothic. Lo!--now it really begins. Thus speaks the old man Iffa: My Lord and King Totila; the roll which is wrapped in this cover is the writing of the man Wargs, who, however, was neither my son, nor was his name Wargs--but his name was Alaric, and he was a Balthe, the banished Duke of----'”
A ay of astonishment from all present interrupted the King. He paused.
But Duke Guntharis cried:
”Then Adalgoth, who calls himself the son of Wargs, is the son of Alaric! whom he himself, in his office of herald, has often, riding through the town on a white horse, loudly summoned to appear. And never saw I a greater resemblance than that between the father Alaric and the son Adalgoth.”
”Hail to the Duke of Apulia!” cried Totila, with a smile, as he embraced the boy.
But, speechless with excitement, Gotho sank upon her knees, her eyes filled with tears, and, looking up at Adalgoth, she sighed:
”Then thou art not my brother! O G.o.d!--Hail, Duke of Apulia! Farewell!
farewell for ever!” and she rose to her feet and turned to go.
”Not my sister!” cried Adalgoth. ”That is the best thing which this dukedom brings me! Stop there!” and he caught Gotho in his arms, pressed her to his bosom, and kissed her heartily. Then he led her up to the King, saying, ”Now, King Totila, unite us! Here is my bride--here is my d.u.c.h.ess!”
And Totila, who had meanwhile cast a rapid glance over the two doc.u.ments, answered smiling:
”In this case I do not need the wisdom of Solomon. Young Duke of Apulia, thus I betroth thee to thy bride.” And he laid the laughing, weeping girl in Adalgoth's arms.
Then he turned to the a.s.sembled Goths, and said:
”Permit me shortly to explain to you what this writing--the Latin of which is rather rude, for Hildegisel was cleverer with the sword than the pen--contains. Here is, besides, Duke Alaric's declaration of his innocence.”
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