Читать книгу Katharine von Bora: Dr. Martin Luther's Wife - Armin Stein - Страница 7

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The month of May had come. In the Burgomaster's street, in Wittenberg, stood a high-gabled house, ornamented with two fierce dragon heads. There the syndic, Master Philip Reichenbach, and his wife were seated near a window enjoying the twilight—the sweetest hour of the twenty-four to the master of the house—when, after the labors of the day, he could enjoy the peaceful quiet of his home.

Master Reichenbach was a short, thick-set man, near fifty, and highly esteemed in Wittenberg for his calm judgment and honorable mind. His wife Elsa, a refined, energetic little woman, had doubtless been a great beauty in her youth; and even now it was a pleasure to look into her fresh, kindly face, to whose delicate features the inner beauty of the soul had given their final charm.

The arrangement of the house bore evidence of great wealth; but the spacious halls were silent; no merry, childish voices disturbed the stillness. So much the more were husband and wife drawn to each other.

"At last the Doctor has found a shelter for the remaining two of the escaped nuns," the syndic reported.

"The Zeschau sisters?" asked Frau Elsa, with lively interest. "I thank God, for the dear Doctor's sake. I have pitied him from my heart. It is a mystery to me, how he will carry through all the business that rests upon him. Another had broken down long ago under the burden. His convent is like a dove-cote, where there is a continual coming and going. Who can count the letters he writes? And must he not, as from a high watch-tower, overlook all things, like a king of the spiritual world, taking note of the smallest, as well as of the weightiest matters? I am vexed with the people who trouble him with their small affairs, and waste his precious time. I was angry with the nuns at Nimptschen, when I heard that they had petitioned Dr. Martin; and when, not content with having been released from their prison, they came hither to trouble him further. I am comforted, now that his unceasing efforts have procured a shelter for them all—not only comforted, but glad and thankful, inasmuch as by these means, our dear Kate has become a member of our household."

The syndic, well pleased with this turn of his wife's speech, contentedly rubbed his knees and said: "I am glad of it, dear Elsa. I was fearful, lest the guest, whom we received for Luther's sake, might prove burdensome to you, and disturb the quiet of our household. I feared also that you might be ill-suited to one another, for Katharine von Bora is of a different temper from you."

A happy smile played around Frau Elsa's lips. "All my care has been turned into pleasure. You are right,—Katharine's temper and inner disposition are different from mine. There is something so noble and great-hearted in her character, that I often feel myself small in comparison. At times, she seems proud and haughty, as even Dr. Luther lately remarked. But her pride is only maidenly dignity,—the expression of her high and noble mind. And withal, her eyes meet the world with a glance so clear and open, her words are so straightforward, and her judgment so true, that often I am fain to ask her counsel. She is like a child, in her innocent happiness; and often she falls upon my neck, kisses me, and exclaims: 'Ah, how happy I am; and I owe it all to you and to the great Doctor.' She always calls Luther the 'great Doctor,' and when we speak of him, she listens reverently with folded hands. As in former days she reverenced the saints of the Romish calendar, so she now venerates Dr. Martin, holding him to be greater and more glorious than many of those whom the Church has canonized.

"You should see her, dear Philip, when she is busied with household duties. I feared at first, that she would cause me much unwonted labor; but now, my hands often lie idle, because I find my work already done. She reads my wishes in my eyes, and her hand is skillful and quick in learning the unaccustomed duties. I often think, as I watch her: Happy is the man, whom this Martha will serve! and a feeling of envy creeps into my heart, for I would rather keep her with me always, and I dread the day when the wooers will appear."

"Are you thinking of Jerome Baumgaertner, the young patrician from Nuremberg?" asked her husband. "Methinks you are needlessly troubled. I saw indeed how his eyes followed Katharine, when on your Name day he sat at table with us, and I notice that since then his visits are unnecessarily frequent. But Katharine is timid in her intercourse with men. You know that, although she has been four weeks in our house, she can scarcely be persuaded to leave it, except to go to church."

Elsa shook her head, regarding her husband with a compassionate smile: "I understand a woman's heart better than you. Modesty and reserve are a maiden's loveliest adornments, and in a man's eyes they are an added charm, urging him to pluck the flowers that seem beyond his reach. The young man seems not to displease Katharine; and she dreads to leave the shelter of our house, not because of those who love her, but because of her enemies and detractors. She has heard the evil things that were said about the nuns of Nimptschen, although I tried to conceal them from her. She knows also that the merchant Leonhard Koppe, of Torgau, is in great danger from the anger of the Papists, and that Dr. Luther addressed to him a public letter of thanks for his brave deed. This is her reason for shunning intercourse with strangers. But it will not always be thus."

The rosy glow of the sunset shone through the round panes, and the pictures on the wall, painted by the hand of Master Lucas Kranach, were tinged with a golden light.

"How clear the sunset, and how fair the evening!" said the syndic. "Let us walk in the garden until supper is served. Have the peas been planted? It should have been done yesterday, but I found no time."

Frau Elsa did not know. They crossed the spacious hall and courtyard, and entered the garden, which covered a large piece of ground. To the right was planted an orchard of fruit-trees, and to the left were borders already prepared for vegetables and flowers.

A kneeling figure was busily engaged before one of the freshly dug beds.

"Is this Katharine?" exclaimed Reichenbach in surprise, as the figure hastily arose. "My dear Katharine, what are you doing here?" he asked.

With a smile, the girl replied: "The peas looked at me so questioningly, whether I would not prepare for them their little bed in the earth; and the leaves of the cabbage plants hung limp, so that it was high time to plant them."

The syndic's eyes rested for a moment upon her work. "But who has taught you this? And those slender fingers, that from childhood have been clasped in prayer, or telling beads, are they fit for such coarse work?"

Katharine glanced at him and said: "Love is a good teacher. One learns quickly, what one does willingly."

"But you should spare yourself, lest you overtax your strength," warned the syndic.

Katharine shook her head. "Did you spare yourself, when you permitted the strange, runaway nun, to disturb the quiet of your household? Ah, I wish I could do much more to requite your Christian charity! It is my daily prayer, that God may pay poor Katharine's debt."

An expression of deep gratitude animated her face, and made it almost beautiful. Frau Elsa silently clasped the girl in her arms, while her husband turned into another path to hide his emotion.

As he walked through the garden, he saw on all sides traces of a busy hand, that had cleared the paths, plucked up the weeds and tended the flowers. He did not need to ask, whose hand it was; and with hearty pleasure his eyes followed Katharine, who, her arm linked in that of his wife, was walking before him.

Soon Sybilla, the old servant, came to announce Dr. Luther, who presently appeared, clad in his dark-colored, monkish gown.

"God's greeting to you, my dear friend," he exclaimed. "How goes it with you? And how fares our poor little nun?"

The syndic reverently lifted his hat, and offered his hand in welcome to his guest. "Have no fear for her, Doctor, it goes well with her."

"But you, my friend,—will she not be burdensome to you? You are making a great sacrifice for my sake; and I am troubled when I think that you may be further inconvenienced. I wish some one would come and make a wife of the maiden,—that is more truly a woman's vocation."

With a serious face, the syndic answered: "Most reverend Doctor, you have done so much for us. Will you do one thing more? Do not allow this to trouble you. It is no sacrifice, to keep Katharine; but it would grieve us to part with her, for she has become dear to us as our own child."

Luther's worn face was lighted with a ray of pleasure. Clasping his friend's hand, he said: "A true friend is a precious treasure, and not to be bought with gold. Continue to be my friend always. As for me, I shall hold you dearer than ever, from this day forth." Meanwhile the women had approached. Katharine, when she saw the monk, sought timidly to draw Frau Elsa away, whispering: "The great Doctor!" But the little lady was not to be restrained from welcoming the beloved guest.

Luther's eyes rested with pleased surprise upon the graceful figure of the former nun, in whose pale cheeks the air of freedom had caused the first spring-roses to bloom. With a smile he noted the traces of her work still clinging to her dress.

"Ah, Mistress Katharine," he jested, "you have indeed become a child of the world. And how does it please you? I see that your mind turns to earthly things, and that you busy yourself with mean and lowly matters, which draw your thoughts to the dust, for soiled are both your dress and hand. Would you not rather return to the convent, where you would be far removed from an evil world, while your thoughts floated heavenward upon clouds of incense?"

Katharine's cheeks grew rosier still, as she answered softly, with downcast eyes: "Leave me in the world; it is beautiful here. Surely so long as I am not of the world, I can serve God acceptably, and dedicate my life to Him. From your own lips I have learned, that the dear Lord is served with small things, as well as with great."

The Doctor was about to answer, when Frau Elsa forestalled him, with the request that he would remain to supper.

Luther met her eyes with a merry glance. "How skillfully you have divined my thoughts. Had you not bidden me stay, I should have offered myself as your guest, otherwise I had gone supperless to bed; for my servant, Wolfgang, but an hour ago, came to my cell with a very long face, saying: 'Doctor, what will you eat this evening? There was a remnant of baked fish in the larder, which would have served for your supper; but a cat must have eaten it, for nothing is left but a few bones.'"

With deep sympathy, Katharine looked up to the man, who in such rich measure broke the bread of life to all the world, and yet lacked daily bread for his own need. Her admiration rose at the greatness of his mind, which could turn his poverty into a jest. She whispered her thoughts to Frau Elsa, who answered in the same tone: "He has barely enough for the necessities of life. His professor's salary is but twenty-two thalers and twelve groschen, and he forgets his own wants, to give to the many poor, who daily importune his generous heart."

"His life must be dreary enough," Katharine continued, "in his gloomy convent, where no woman's hand can minister to his comfort. Wolfgang may be faithful,—but he is no woman."

They entered the hall, where Sybilla had served the evening meal.

"Would you hear some news, my friends?" said Luther, when they were seated. "Leonhard Koppe, the robber of nuns, for whom the Papists would fain prepare a heretic's death, rather deserves a martyr's crown; for behold, the deed which he ventured in God's name, has been followed by great blessing. It was of no avail, to conceal what had happened at Nimptschen. The tidings penetrated into other convents, and our dear Kate has found many imitators. To-day I learned, that nine nuns, together with their abbess, escaped from the Benedictine convent at Zeitz, six nuns from the abbey at Sarmitz, eight from the Cistercian convent of Bentlitz, and sixteen from the Dominican house of Widerstedt. Mistress Katharine will doubtless rejoice to hear, that three more nuns left Nimptschen,—not secretly, but were taken away in orderly fashion by their kinspeople. I am heartily glad of it. But in order that the convent gates may be opened more freely still, I am writing the history of Florentina von Oberweimar, who fled from the nunnery of Neuhelfta, near Eisleben. This little book will be printed and spread abroad, that all the world may learn what is a nun's life; that the Devil's wiles may be exposed, and that poor Leonhard Koppe may hereafter be left in peace."

Frau Elsa passed a dish to the Doctor, and pressed him to eat. "These are good tiding, reverend sir, and our dear Kate seems well pleased. I will ask you to lend me the history of Florentina, as soon as it is printed. But do not forget that this is the time to eat. You need some nourishment, for the dark shadows under your eyes tell of sleepless nights and over-much study."

Luther mechanically put some of the food on his plate, and said: "For that the godless prophets of Zwickau are to blame, who, while I sat imprisoned as Squire George, laid waste the vineyard of the Lord; and it is more laborious to build up than to destroy. Many a morning, when I look at my untouched bed, I think of Karlstadt, and say: 'Behold, for this friendly service I have to thank thee!'"

"But tell me, Doctor," said Frau Elsa, "how do you accomplish all this work, which would tax the strength of ten men? You preach, lecture, write books, translate the Bible, receive and answer letters,—yet you never grow weary, and always have a cheerful heart. You find time to help Wolfgang at his lathe, to tend the flowers in your garden, and to hold converse with your friends."

Luther looked up with a pleasant smile. "Dear friend, for the accomplishment of such labors two things are needful,—order and prayer. Has not each hour sixty minutes? Much can be done in sixty minutes, if we do it in order, redeeming the time. And prayer is a fresh well, from whence body and soul draw ever new strength. This Psalter"—and he drew a little book from his breast-pocket,—"is my constant companion and comforter, from whom I learn and receive all that I need. I hold my prayers to be stronger by far than all the Devil's might and cunning; and if for one day I forget to pray, my faith would grow cold. Work and pray evermore, and God will help thee!"

Katharine listened with reverent attention. Then she bent her head and whispered: "The great Doctor! The wonderful man! Oh, to have him always before one's eyes, and to follow his example! If I might but be his servant." A warm glance from Frau Elsa, and a soft pressure of the hand was her answer.

Doctor Martin then entered into a conversation with the syndic, regarding the Knight Franz von Sickingen, whose tragic end had saddened many hearts. The strong man had been conquered by a stronger. The princes of Hesse, Palatinate and Treves, had besieged and overpowered his fortress of Landstuhl.

"I was almost vexed with you, Doctor," said the syndic, "when you refused Sickingen's proffered hand. His good sword, I trusted, would prove a strong defence, and hew a way for the Gospel, despite the Pope and the Emperor; for Sickengen's power was growing apace. Now it is clear to me, that in this matter also you were in the right."

Luther shook his head sadly. "I grieve for thee, my brother Sickingen! He meant it well with me. And yet he was a tempter, to whom I must needs say: Get thee behind me, who, with carnal weapons, wouldst further God's sacred cause! Such means are ill-pleasing to the Lord, and endanger the truth, which needs no earthly props or crutches, having within itself the power to conquer the world. It is the Word, which must achieve the victory, not the Sword! Had I entrusted the Gospel to Sickingen's hand, it would have perished with the dying hero. But it is time that I go, for Wolfgang and the nun Florentina are awaiting me at home. Will you not give me something for the poor fellow? He is so faithful, and would share his last morsel with me!"

Before Frau Elsa could rise, Katharine had wrapped a piece of smoked meat in a napkin, and given it to Doctor Martin. He thanked them, and wished them good-night.