fusion,
I led the battle-strife!

"O would the lot were mine,
In bower or field,
To which my lady fair
Her smile would yield!"

At this time it happened that a man who held himself to be very
wise, and who filled the office of secretary to the aged guardian of
Hildegardis, came to the two knightly friends to propose a scheme to
them. His proposal, in few words, was this, that as Froda could gain no
advantage from his victory, he might in the approaching combat suffer
himself to be thrown from his steed, and thus secure the lady for his
comrade, at the same time fulfilling the wish of the Emperor, which
might turn to his advantage hereafter in many ways.

At this the two friends at first laughed heartily; but then Froda
advanced gravely towards the secretary, and said, "Thou trifler,
doubtless the old duke would drive thee from his service did he know
of thy folly, and teach thee to talk of the Emperor. Good-night, worthy
sir, and trust me that when Edwald and I meet each other, it will be
with all our heart and strength."

The secretary hastened out of the room with all speed, and was seen next
morning to look unusually pale.

Soon after this Froda recovered from his wounds; the course was again
prepared as before, but crowded by a still greater number of spectators;
and in the freshness of a dewy morning the two knights advanced solemnly
together to the combat.

"Beloved Edwald," said Froda, in a low voice, as they went, "take good
heed to yourself, for neither this time can the victory be yours--on
that rose-coloured cloud appears Aslauga."

"It may be so," answered Edwald, with a quiet smile; "but under the
arches of that golden bower shines Hildegardis, and this time she has
not been waited for."

The knights took their places--the trumpets sounded, the course began,
and Froda's prophecy seemed to be near its fulfilment, for Edwald
staggered under the stroke of his lance, so that he let go the bridle,
seized the mane with both hands, and thus hardly recovered his seat,
whilst his high-mettled snow-white steed bore him wildly around the
lists without control. Hildegardis also seemed to shrink at this sight,
but the youth at length reined-in his steed, and the second course was
run.

Froda shot like lightning along the plain, and it seemed as if the
success of the young duke were now hopeless; but in the shock of their
meeting, the bold Danish steed reared