It happened that one of the maids at Sonnenberg was about to marry a peasant, of Meran, part proprietor of a vineyard, and the nuptials were to be celebrated at the castle.  Among those who thronged the courtyard on the afternoon of the ceremony, Vittoria beheld her faithful Beppo, who related the story of his pursuit of her, and the perfidy of Luigi;—­a story so lengthy, that his voluble tongue running at full speed could barely give the outlines of it.  He informed her, likewise, that he had been sent for, while lying in Trent, by Captain Weisspriess, whom he had seen at an inn of the Ultenthal, weak but improving.  Beppo was the captain’s propitiatory offering to Vittoria.  Meanwhile the ladies sat on a terrace, overlooking the court, where a stout fellow in broad green braces and blue breeches lay half across a wooden table, thrumming a zither, which set the groups in motion.  The zither is a melancholy little instrument; in range of expression it is to the harp what the winchat is to the thrush; or to the violin, what that bird is to the nightingale; yet few instruments are so exciting:  here and there along these mountain valleys you may hear a Tyrolese maid set her voice to its plaintive thin tones; but when the strings are swept madly there is mad dancing; it catches at the nerves.  “Andreas!  Andreas!” the dancers shouted to encourage the player.  Some danced with vine-poles; partners broke and wandered at will, taking fresh partners, and occasionally huddling in confusion, when the poles were levelled and tilted at them, and they dispersed.  Beppo, dancing mightily to recover the use of his legs, met his acquaintance Jacob Baumwalder Feckelwitz, and the pair devoted themselves to a rivalry of capers; jump, stamp, shuffle, leg aloft, arms in air, yell and shriek:  all took hands around them and streamed, tramping the measure, and the vine-poles guarded the ring.  Then Andreas raised the song:  “Our Lady is gracious,” and immediately the whole assemblage were singing praise to the Lady of the castle.  Following which, wine being brought to Andreas, he drank to his lady, to his lady’s guests, to the bride, to the, bridegroom, to everybody.  He was now ready to improvize, and dashed thumb and finger on the zither, tossing up his face, swarthy-flushed:  “There was a steinbock with a beard.”  Half-a-dozen voices repeated it, as to proclaim the theme.

Alas! a beard indeed, for there is no end to this animal.  I know him;” said the duchess dolefully.

              “There was a steinbock with a beard;
               Of no gun was he afeard
               Piff-paff left of him:  piff-paff right of him
               Piff-paff everywhere, where you get a sight of him.”