Heinrich draws his sword, and
throws himself upon his brother C. to kill him. The beautiful
Hildegarde, however, throws herself between them and reconciliates
them, and then, convinced that neither of them means business, and
naturally disgusted with the whole affair, retires into a nunnery.
Conrad's Grecian bride subsequently throws herself away on another
man, upon which Conrad throws himself on his brother H.'s breast,
and they swear eternal friendship. (Make it pathetic. Pretend you
have sat amid the ruins in the moonlight, and give the scene - with
ghosts.) "Rolandseck," near Bonn. Tell the story of Roland and
Hildegunde (see Baedeker, p. 66). Don't make it too long, because
it is so much like the other. Describe the funeral? The "Watch
Tower on the Rhine" below Audernach. Query, isn't there a song
about this? If so, put it in. Coblentz and Ehrenbreitstein. Great
fortresses. Call them "the Frowning Sentinels of the State." Make
reflections on the German army, also on war generally. Chat about
Frederick the Great. (Read Carlyle's history of him, and pick out
the interesting bits.) The Drachenfels. Quote Byron. Moralise
about ruined castles generally, and describe the middle ages, with
your views and opinions on same."
There is much more of it, but that is sufficient to let you see the
scheme I had in my head. I have not carried out my scheme, because,
when I came to reflect upon the matter, it seemed to me that the
idea would develop into something that would be more in the nature
of a history of Europe than a chapter in a tourist's diary, and I
determined not to waste my time upon it, until there arose a greater
public demand for a new History of Europe than there appears to
exist at present.
"Besides," I argued to myself, "such a work would be just the very
thing with which to beguile the tedium of a long imprisonment. At
some future time I may be glad of a labour of this magnitude to
occupy a period of involuntary inaction."
"This is the sort of thing," I said to myself, "to save up for
Holloway or Pentonville."
It would have been a very enjoyable ride altogether, that evening's
spin along the banks of the Rhine, if I had not been haunted at the
time by the idea that I should have to write an account of it next
day in my diary. As it was, I enjoyed it as a man enjoys a dinner
when he has got to make a speech after it, or as a critic enjoys a
play.
We passed such odd little villages every here and there. Little
places so crowded up between the railway and the river that there
was no room in them for any streets.
