but on looking practically at the ramparts of the place, thinks
they are too high, and turns to go home again. Whereupon the idle
women of Fritzlar, who are upon the ramparts gazing in fear and
hope, burst into shrill universal jubilation of voice,--and even
into gestures, and liberties with their dress, which are not
describable in History! Conrad, suddenly once more all flame,
whirls round; storms the ramparts, slays what he meets, plunders
Fritzlar with a will, and leaves it blazing in a general fire,
which had broken out in the business. Here is a pair of coils for
Conrad; the like of which can issue only in Papal ban or worse.

Conrad is grim and obstinate under these aspects; but secretly
feels himself very wicked; knows not well what will come of it.
Sauntering one day in his outer courts, he notices a certain
female beggar; necessitous female of loose life, who tremulously
solicits charity of him. Necessitous female gets some fraction of
coin, but along with it bullying rebuke in very liberal measure;
and goes away weeping bitterly, and murmuring about "want that
drove me to those courses." Conrad retires into himself: "What is
her real sin, perhaps,to mine?" Conrad "lies awake all that
night;" mopes about, in intricate darkness, days and nights;
rises one morning an altered man. He makes "pilgrimage to
Gladbach," barefoot; kneels down at the church-door of Fritzlar
with bare back, and a bundle of rods beside him. "Whip me, good
injured Christians for the love of Jesus!"--in brief, reconciles
himself to Christian mankind, the Pope included; takes the
Teutsch-Ritter vows upon him; [A.D. 1234 (Voigt, ii. 375-423).]
and hastens off to Preussen, there to spend himself, life and
life's resources thenceforth, faithfully, till he die. The one
course left for Conrad. Which he follows with a great strong