o turned
the uneasy craven to account.

It happened that one of the maids at Sonnenberg was about to marry a
peasant, of Meran, part proprietor of a vineyard, and the nuptials were
to be celebrated at the castle. Among those who thronged the courtyard on
the afternoon of the ceremony, Vittoria beheld her faithful Beppo, who
related the story of his pursuit of her, and the perfidy of Luigi;--a
story so lengthy, that his voluble tongue running at full speed could
barely give the outlines of it. He informed her, likewise, that he had
been sent for, while lying in Trent, by Captain Weisspriess, whom he had
seen at an inn of the Ultenthal, weak but improving. Beppo was the
captain's propitiatory offering to Vittoria. Meanwhile the ladies sat on
a terrace, overlooking the court, where a stout fellow in broad green
braces and blue breeches lay half across a wooden table, thrumming a
zither, which set the groups in motion. The zither is a melancholy little
instrument; in range of expression it is to the harp what the winchat is
to the thrush; or to the violin, what that bird is to the nightingale;
yet few instruments are so exciting: here and there along these mountain
valleys you may hear a Tyrolese maid set her voice to its plaintive thin
tones; but when the strings are swept madly there is mad dancing; it
catches at the nerves. "Andreas! Andreas!" the dancers shouted to
encourage the player. Some danced with vine-poles; partners broke and
wandered at will, taking fresh partners, and occasionally huddling in
confusion, when the poles were levelled and tilted at them, and they
dispersed. Beppo, dancing mightily to recover the use of his legs, met
his acquaintance Jacob Baumwalder Feckelwitz, and the pair devoted
themselves to a rivalry of capers; jump, stamp, shuffle, leg aloft, arms
in air, yell and shriek: all took hands around them and streamed,
tramping the measure, and the vine-poles guarded the ring. Then Andreas
raised the song: "Our Lady is gracious," and immediately the whole
assemblage were singing praise to the Lady of the castle. Following
which, wine being brought to Andreas, he drank to his lady, to his lady's
guests, to the bride, to the, bridegroom, to everybody. He was now ready
to improvize, and dashed thumb and finger on the zither, tossing up his
face, swarthy-flushed: "There was a steinbock with a beard." Half-a-dozen
voices repeated it, as to proclaim the theme.

Alas! a beard indeed, for there is no end