“And I know,” Wilibald Pirckheimer interrupted, that among the many obstacles which his foes placed in his path, and which clouded his active life, you two, and your loyal love, gave him more light and greater consolation than anything else.  I have often heard him gladly acknowledge this, and as for you, friend Lienhard.”

“I know,” replied the young Honourable modestly, checking him, “that he was right in deeming the immature youth, which I was at the time of my first wooing, unworthy of his daughter.”

“Though you had been the peer in strength and beauty of the valiant Achilles, and in wisdom of the subtle Ulysses, son of Laertes, I would not contradict you,” interrupted Pirckheimer; “for, gentlemen, this gallant husband’s wife is a jewel of a peculiar kind.  Nuremberg is proud of calling Frau Katharina her daughter.  Far as the German language is spoken, her equal would be sought in vain.”

“You are an enviable man,” said little Dr. Eberbach, turning to Lienhard.  “But probably you will permit me one question.  Even when a boy,—­as we heard, you loved the child Katharina.  As a youth, you took this love across the Alps to Padua and Bologna.  But when, like the noble Virgil, I perceive that ’Nowhere is there aught to trust-nowhere,’—­[Virg.  AEn. iv, 373.]—­and find that the esteemed Catullus’s words, ’No man passes through life without error,’—­[Catull.  Dist.  I, 5.]—­are verified, I would fain learn whether in Italy also you held fast, in small things as well as great ones, to the—­among us men—­rare bird of the fidelity sworn to the woman whom we love.  I, who compared to you, am like a faun with pointed ears beside the handsome Ares, nevertheless know by experience how easily the glowing eyes of that country kindle conflagrations.  Was the armour of a former love really strong enough to guard your heart from every flame, even before any vow bound you to the child whom you chose so early for the companion of your life”?

“It was the same before the priest’s consecration as afterward,” replied the young Councillor, gravely and firmly.

Then, changing his manner, he held out his brimming glass toward the Thuringian and gaily continued: 

“It ought not to seem so amazing to a man of your learning, my incredulous Herr Doctor.  Surely your far-famed Propertius says, ’Love is benefited by many things, a faithful nature and resolute persistence.’  Believe me, doctor, even without the counsel of your experienced Roman, I should have kept faith with the lovely child at home.  From my boyhood, Katharina was to me the woman, the one above all others, the worthy Tryphon, my teacher of Greek in Bologna, would have said.  My heart’s darling has always been my light, as Helios was that of the Greeks, though there were the moon and so many planets and stars besides.”

“And the vagrant we saw just now, on whom you bestowed a golden shower of remembrance as Father Zeus endowed the fair Danae?” asked Doctor Peutinger of Augsburg, shaking his finger mischievously at his young friend.  “We humanists follow the saying of Tibullus:  ’Whoever confesses let him be forgiven,’ and know the world sufficiently to be aware that within the walls of Ilium and without enormities are committed.” —­[Horace, Epist. 1, 2, 16.]