ce from the court, and rode to
his father's house. All flocked together--man and maid-servant did not
say, 'Welcome, Helmbrecht;' they were advised not to do so. But they
said, 'Young gentleman, God give you welcome!' He answered, '_Kindeken,
ik yunsch uech ein gud leven_'[7] (Children, I wish you a good life).
His sister ran and embraced him; then he spoke to her, '_Gratia
vestra!_' The old people followed, and oft embraced him; then he called
to his father, '_Dieu vous salut!_' and to his mother he spoke in
Bohemian, '_Dobraybra!_' The father and mother looked at one another,
and the latter said to her husband, 'Goodman, are we not out of our
senses? it is not our child; it is a Bohemian or a Wend.' The father
exclaimed, 'It is a foreigner; he is not my son whom I commended to
God, however like he may appear to him.' And his sister Gotelind said,
'He is not your son, he spoke Latin to me; he must truly be a priest.'
And the servant, 'From what I have seen of him he must belong to Saxony
or Brabant; he said _ik_ and _Kindeken_; he must, undoubtedly, be a
Saxon.'

"Then the master of the house spoke in homely phrase, 'Are you my son
Helmbrecht? Show your respect for your mother and me by speaking a word
of German, and I myself will rub down your horse--I, and not my
servant.' '_Ei wat segget ihr Gebureken? min parit_,[8] _minen klaren
Lif soll kein bureumaun nimmer angripen_' (What are you boors saying?
my steed and my fine body shall be touched by no boors). Then the
master of the house, quite horrified, replied, 'Are you Helmbrecht, my
son? In that case I will this very night boil one hen and roast
another; but if you are a stranger--a Bohemian or a Wend--you may go to
the winds. If you are of Saxony or Brabant, you must take your repast
with you; from me you will receive nothing, though the night should
last a whole year. For a Junker, such as you, I have no meal or wine;
you must seek that from the nobles.'

"Now it had waxed late, and there was no host in the neighbourhood who
would have received the youth, so, having weighed the matter, he said,
'Truly I am your son, I am Helmbrecht; once I was your son and
servant.' The father answered 'You are not him.' 'But I am so.' 'Tell
me the four names of my oxen.' Then the son mentioned the four names,
'_Auer_, _Raeme_, _Erke_, _Sonne_. I have often flourished my switch
over them; they are the best oxen in the world; will you recognise me
now? Let the door be opened to