r there's neither worth nor wit in Gottlieb Groschen!'

'Three days!' Margarita exclaimed; 'and the helm not finished, and the
tapestry-pieces not sewed and joined, and the water not shaded off.--Oh!
I must work night and day.'

'Child! I'll have no working at night! Your rosy cheeks will soon be
sucked out by oil-light, and you look no better than poor tallow Court
beauties--to say nothing of the danger. This old house saw Charles the
Great embracing the chief magistrate of his liege city yonder. Some
swear he slept in it. He did not sneeze at smaller chambers than our
Kaisers abide. No gold ceilings with cornice carvings, but plain wooden
beams.'

'Know that the men of great renown,
Were men of simple needs:
Bare to the Lord they laid them down,
And slept on mighty deeds.'

'God wot, there's no emptying thy store of ballads, Grete: so much shall
be said of thee. Yes; times are changeing: We're growing degenerate.
Look at the men of Linz now to what they were! Would they have let the
lads of Andernach float down cabbage-stalks to them without a shy back?
And why? All because they funk that brigand-beast Werner, who gets
redemption from Laach, hard by his hold, whenever he commits a crime
worth paying for. As for me, my timber and stuffs must come down
stream, and are too good for the nixen under Rhine, or think you I would
acknowledge him with a toll, the hell-dog? Thunder and lightning! if old
scores could be rubbed out on his hide!'

Gottlieb whirled a thong-lashing arm in air, and groaned of law and
justice. What were they coming to!

Margarita softened the theme with a verse:

'And tho' to sting his enemy,
Is sweetness to the angry bee,
The angry bee must busy be,
Ere sweet of sweetness hiveth he.

The arch thrill of his daughter's voice tickled Gottlieb. 'That's it,
birdie! You and the proverb are right. I don't know which is best,

'Better hive
And keep alive
Than vengeance wake
With that you take.'

A clatter in the cathedral square brought Gottlieb on his legs to the
window. It was a company of horsemen sparkling in harness. One trumpeter
rode at the side of the troop, and in front a standard-bearer, matted
down the chest with ochre beard, displayed aloft to the good citizens
of Cologne, three brown hawks, with birds in their beaks, on an azure
stardotted field.