A musical greeting caused the Emperor to start from his reverie and turn suddenly round. The Countess Tekla stood before him, smiling, and seeming herself a spirit of the morning. To Rodolph she appeared to be robed magnificently, and he wondered how she came by all this finery, which suited her so well, making her look the great lady she undoubtedly was. Notwithstanding her youth, there was an unconscious dignity about her that awed him, even though he was accustomed to the splendour of the grand dames who thronged his now deserted Court at Frankfort. Could this be the girl who had come through such rough usage with him from Treves to Thuron, standing now like a fair goddess of the Moselle in her queenly beauty? Here was one indeed to fight for and to die for, if necessity arose, thinking oneself blessed for the privilege. Her head was coroneted by a semi-circular band of gold, encrusted with jewels. Behind her fair neck the rich profusion of hair was kept in bounds by a clasp of finely-wrought silver, from which imprisonment it then flowed unimpeded, the colour of ripened wheat, each thread apparently spun from the golden beams of the sun itself. It covered her like a mantle, making even the embroidered splendour of her gown seem poor by comparison.
To this radiant vision so unexpectedly risen before him, the Emperor bowed with the slow, lowly deference of a courtier to his monarch, speechless for the moment through the emotions that stirred within him.
The girl laughed merrily at his confusion.
"You must not so critically regard me, my Lord," she said. "My wardrobe is elsewhere, as you know, and I have been compelled to explore this grim castle for the wherewithal to attire myself, finding more of coats of mail than of ladies' adornments, for it is long since feminine vanity dwelt herein, so I have been compelled to piece out this with that, to make myself presentable, and I feel like one engaged in a masquerade, tricking myself out as they tell me the ladies do at some grand function given by the Emperor at Frankfort."
"My Lady, the Emperor's Court is lit by candles; I stand now in the radiance of the sun."
The lady turned her dancing eyes upon him.
"If that is a compliment, my Lord, 'tis fit for Frankfort itself; if it merely refers to the undoubted fact that the sun is shining bravely on you, and that the Court is dim by comparison, think not you will deter me from going there, for I should dearly love to witness the pageantry of the capital."