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At the castle of the King of Thuringia sat Gisela, the Queen, on a high seat; she supported her head on her white arm, and her long curls fell from under her diadem over her hand, covering her eyes. At her feet a servant-maid was putting back into the chest the gold vessels from the king's table, and counting the pieces before she closed and delivered it into the treasure-room of her royal mistress. She gazed smilingly at her face distorted in the round metal, and looked up to her lady; but the Queen concerned herself little about the golden treasure. Some steps off sat King Bisino, a valiant warrior, of bulky figure, with strong limbs and a broad face; he had on his cheek a black mole, which was hereditary in his race; it had been a cause of derision to one of his ancestors, but was now considered a king's token; it did not add to his beauty, but he was proud of it. The King was looking angry; copious drinking had swollen the veins of his forehead. He was wrangling with the minstrel Volkmar, who was standing before him.

"I have sent for thee after the repast," said the King, "that the Queen may question thee, but she appears not to know that we are here."

"What does my lord command?" asked Queen Gisela, raising herself up proudly.

"There is good reason," murmured the King, "to open one's eyes, when the kings wear iron fetters by the Rhine, and lie in damp prisons."

"Why did they offer their hands to the fetters?" replied Gisela, coldly. "It ill becomes those who have led thousands of their warriors to the death-halls to allow others the precedence. When I see valiant men with death-wounds on the bloody heath, I concern myself little about the bloodless faces in prison."

"Fortune abandons even valiant men," said the King, looking timidly at his wife. "But thou, fellow, hast not told all; one of them escaped and came into my country. There have been loud sounds heard in the house of the Prince; acclamations to Ingo have shaken the hall. Thou wast there, nimble-tongued musician; why didst thou change thy song? For other were the tones of thy ditty in the forest bower."

"Bad would be the repute of the singer if his song sounded uniformly on one string. My duty is to give every man his due, that the heart of the hearer may open itself joyfully. I did not conceal the name of the Hero from the King, for deeds of renown live through my mouth. But I did not know that the name of the fugitive would disturb the mind of the great ruler of the people."

"I know thee," exclaimed the King, with an outbreak of anger; "thou divest with agility, like the otter in the river. Guard thy smooth skin from the strokes of my boys."

"The minstrel is at peace with the wild folk. Thy boys, oh King --- the insolent men whose noise sounds now from the court up to the stone tower --- have fear also of the minstrel; for he carries tidings of every misdeed through all countries; and were his mouth to be forever stopped, then his valiant comrades would revenge his death. Thine anger does not frighten me, yet I should be unwilling to lose thy favor, for thou hast richly rewarded my true service. It is impossible for me to know why my lord hears with such displeasure the name of the stranger; the fugitive appears to me a valiant man, faithful to his friends, and not greedy after foreign goods."

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