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"Perhaps the duck is a holy bird to them, which is not domestic there; there are some kinds of birds to be found all over the earth, and other not," said Balda, a sensible man, one of the followers of the Queen.

"So I thought also, but my host knew that they prepare things like these for their pleasure, in order to tread upon them."

The men laughed. "Do not our children also make little bears out of clay, and ovens out of sand, and play for days together with trifles? The Romans have become like children," exclaimed Balda.

"Thou speakest right. They have polished little stones into birds, while in their forest the warriors of Suabia dwell in their blockhouses; also when they eat they lie down like women who are lying-in."

"What thou bringest forward concerning the ducks," exclaimed Wolfgang, in an angry tone, "is quite unimportant and foolish; for it is peculiar to the Romans that they can imitate everything in colored stone --- not only birds, but also lions and fighting warriors. They understand how to form every god and every hero, so that he stands up as if living; this they do as an honor to themselves, and as a memorial to him."

"They rub upon the stones; and the heroes who fight their battles are of our own blood. If it is their fashion to love journeyman's work, it is ours to rule over journeymen. I do not praise the hero who engages himself in the service of a journeyman," replied the old man.

"Dost thou call journeymen those who are lords over almost the whole earth? Their race is older, and their traditions more glorious than ours," exclaimed Wolfgang again.

"If they have prated to thee of that," retorted Berthar, "they have lied: whether the glory is genuine, and the tradition true, may be known to every one by this --- if it increases the courage in battle of those men who boast. Therefore I compare the fame of the Romans to a waterspout, that first rushes over the land, and then dries up into a puddle; but the fame of our heroes is like a mountain spring, which rushes over the stones, and carries its floods into the valley."

"Yet the wise men of the Romans are confident," interposed Ingo, "that they have become more powerful than they were before; for they boast that in the times of their fathers a new god came into their empire, who has given them victory."

"I have long observed," said the King, "that they have a great mystery in their Christ. Their faith also is not entirely frivolous, for they are in truth now more victorious than in former times. One hears much about it, and no one speaks very accurately."

"They have very few gods," declared Berthar, mysteriously, "or perhaps only one with three names. One is called the Father, the other the Son, and the third is called --- "

"The third is called the Devil," exclaimed Wolfgang. "I know that; I myself was at one time among the Christians, and I assure thee, oh King, their magic is more powerful than any other. I learned their secret sign, and a blessing --- they call it Noster Pater --- that has healing power against every bodily injury;" and he made respectfully a cross over his wine-cup.

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