The Tanzteich Bei Zorge11
Tanzteich—dance pond.
On the spot now covered by the Tanzteich once stood a stately Schloss with lofty walls and battlements.
A rich knight, whose name has been drowned in the stream of time, dwelt in it in luxury and splendour.
Every dawn brought a new festival, and even night was turned into day; but neither discipline nor virtue ruled in the brilliant assemblages of his numerous guests.
Once the lord of the castle gave a brilliant entertainment. The merriment of the guests rang out into the night; in the wildest dance mingled men and women, youths and maidens, and loud music smothered the rolling thunder which could be heard in the distance.
And the night grew darker, and the waves of the Zorge murmured with a hollow moan, and the flowers grew wet with dew.
The heavens gathered blackness, the water of the river seemed to sing a death-song, and the flowers on its banks to weep.
Then the lightnings covered the mountains with flames, making the darkness still more terrible.
An old man stole softly and slowly up to the castle. His garments betrayed the greatest poverty, but his countenance was noble, and his thin locks were dripping with the rain.
He entered, but the servants paid no attention to him, but sat drinking.
He mounted the stone stairway, and reached the ball-room, where knights and ladies whirled in the dance regardless of the storm.
He did not venture to enter, but stood timidly near the door, hoping that some one might take pity on his condition. He did not stand long unobserved.
The master himself perceived him, but his heart was not touched with pity.
With a countenance red with anger, he pounced upon the trembling man, thrust him out of his humble posture, and cried in a voice of thunder, “Insolent beggar! how couldst thou dare to enter my castle? Thou shalt pay dearly for thy impudence, and go down more quickly than thou camest up!”
And he seized him, dragged him to a window, and threw him, amid the laughter of the guests, into the depths below the castle.
But the beggar stood suddenly in the midst of a wonderful light, and cried in an awful voice, before which all merriment died, and the hot blood turned to ice: “Cursed are ye who despise the poor, and give him over to death; cursed be this spot with all your pleasure and luxury; ye shall sink this very hour in night and darkness!”
And lo! scarcely were the words uttered, when a hissing flash of lightning, like a fiery serpent, pierced the castle, a fearful clap of thunder followed, the earth opened, the castle sank in the hidden deeps, and was seen no more.
Only the lonely wanderer hears in the stillness of the night a gloomy noise like distant merriment and shouting, mingled with smothered groans and a horrible dirge.