Wenzel received his investiture; and could do ne less than not only liberate Nicolas, but confer on him a continuance of his official position of notarius in the palace.
Zawis returned to his dungeon. Here he entertained his weary hours with such solace as his ample store of mental wealth and companionship could confer.
According to the custom of the time, he had cultivated something of the art of the troubadour; and the walls oi his dungeon long presented the results of his meditations, in compositions that associated his name with the familiar poesy of the day in Moravia. Among others the following lines testify to his taste and philosophy:
TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD.
Moravian mountains knew my tread
In youth, at dawning day,
As through the dewy glades I sped
Where stags in covert lay;
And coursing vein and freshening morn
Inspired the glad career,
While eager steed and sounding horn
Quickened the bounding deer.
The mellow light within my eye,
And breeze that thrilled my frame,
Filled me with life from that good sky
Whence conscious gladness came;
And I felt one before the day
With beauteous things that grew;
I breathed the same glad breath as they,
All constant, good, and true,
