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and shade, and the moat round about, which is
only separated from the Vettern by the narrow
carriage road, takes the reflection of the
immense building as a mirrored image.
We now stand before it in daylight. Not a
pane of glass is to be found in it; planks and
old doors are nailed fast to the window frames;
the halls alone still stand on the two towers,
broad, heavy, and resembling colossal toadstools.
The iron spire of the one still towers aloft in the
air; the other spire is bent: like the hands on a
sun-dial it shows the time – the time that is
gone. The other two balls are half fallen down;
lambs frisk about between the beams, and the
space below is used as a cow-stall.
The arms over the gateway have neither
spot nor blemish: they seem as if carved
yesterday; the walls are firm, and the stairs look
like new. In the palace yard, far above the
gateway, the great folding door was opened,
whence once the minstrels stepped out and
played a welcome greeting from the balcony, but
even this is broken down: we go through the
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