“Ho! Ulrich of Eisenach! come forth, come forth and listen to the summons of your liege lord and emperor!”
But Ulrich safe in the inner Hofburg swore a great oath by Saint Jacobus that the herald might bawl until the bastion cracked before he stirred to hear him; and the herald, having waited duly and gotten only curses through the loophole, completed his proclamation.
“_In the Name of the Blessed Trinity, Amen!_
“I, Rudolf, Crowned of God, Emperor of the Romans, Graf of Hapsburg, and Freiherr of Argau, to Ulrich of Eisenach, and all who follow him,--greeting:--
“I do summon you to appear before my assize at Goslar, on the third Monday hereafter following, to answer by what warrant you do hold this castle of the Wartburg to the detriment of its lawful master, our well-beloved cousin the Landgraf of Thuringia; and by what warrant you have halted, robbed, and slain divers of our loving subjects upon our highways, in violation of our Imperial peace.
“And especially we command you, under pain of our most condign displeasure, to deliver instantly to this our herald the noble lady, Agnes, daughter of our trusty vassal Graf Ludwig of the Harz, whom you do detain in most unlawful custody.
“And each and all of you who shall defy these our commands, we declare under our Imperial Ban, and as such our loyal subjects are commanded to apprehend or extirpate. Also by the special authorization of the holy Apostolic Inquisitor, the Archbishop of Mainz, we declare all contemners of our decrees excommunicated from the sacraments of Holy Church.
So cried the herald; and when no intention was manifested of delivering up the Lady Agnes to him, he blew another great blast, and rode down the steep to leave Baron Ulrich and his merry men clear at their wits’ last end.
No one could doubt that the extermination of Maid Agnes’s escort had been incomplete. Some one had escaped and told Graf Ludwig. The lion was unchained in very deed! In the great feasting hall the council met, but there was no wassail now. Ulrich’s scarred face was black with rage and dread. Priest Clement had nearly forgotten his scraps of Latin. The situation was plain enough. All through the wild and wicked years following the death of Frederick the Second, Thuringia had belonged to the bandit barons who had watched the roads and ruled by “fist-law.” The power of the Landgraf had sunk to a shadow, and Ulrich and his crew had held the Wartburg for a decade. But there was a new kaiser now who had begun to end the merry dance of devils. Rumours blew north,--how in Swabia Kaiser Rudolf had beaten down castles and hanged many a reckless “ritter” on the pine tree facing his own smoking keep. And Graf Ludwig, the Imperial Vicar, had come to Thuringia with a goodly force to do the very same deeds; therefore My Lord Ulrich had his food for thought.