The house was quite full, as well as the court--for the old man's grandchildren and great-grandchildren formed a large congregation; and all those to whom he had done good during his life, whom he had assisted with his counsel or supported in their sorrow--how many there were! and yet the greater part was absent, covering the battle-field!--and among all his sons and grandsons, only that one cripple was present, and he was not considered as a man!
They had all their dead to mourn--all their peculiar sorrows, but none more than the high-minded Judith, and the poor cripple,--and yet they alone wept not. A restless fever burned within them, and, instead of tears, sparks of fire seemed to burst from their eyes.
In the midst of the weeping and lamentation, Judith beckoned the cripple aside.
"David!" she exclaimed, taking the youth's damp, cold hand, "your grandfather lies stretched out before you, and yet you stand beside the coffin without shedding a tear! what are you thinking of? Last night I heard you sighing and tossing on your bed--you never slept--what were you thinking of then, David?"
"David, if you were a strong, sound man--if you could hold a sword or a lance, instead of those crutches--would you hang your head in silence as you do now?"
The cripple raised his glowing face, and his large, dark eyes met Judith's with such a gleam of enthusiasm, it seemed as if the ardent spirit had forgotten for a moment the weakness of its mortal dwelling.
"And you will never be happy," she continued; "no joys await your lot in this life, and yet who knows how long that life may be. Speak! should death appear before you in its most brilliant form--more glorious than on the battle-field--and bid you cast away your crutches and embrace the weapons of destruction, giving you all you loved on earth as a funeral pile to perish around you, that none should remain to whom your thoughts might return from the other world"--
"You _will_ not, perhaps. The world is still fair to you, even amidst ruins, and blasted by dishonour; unfortunate as you are, life is still dear--even your crutches are not to be exchanged for wings!"
"Oh! speak not thus; how often would I have given the life I abhor for the death I envy!" exclaimed the unhappy youth; and added, in a lower tone, "for the death of glory!"