Читать книгу Sidonia, the Sorceress (Vol. 1&2) - Wilhelm Meinhold - Страница 20

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How Sidonia is sent away to Stettin—Item, of the young lord's dangerous illness, and what happened in consequence.

Now the Grand Chamberlain was well aware that no good would result from having Sidonia brought to a public trial, because the whole court was on her side.

Therefore he called Marcus Bork, her cousin, to him in the night, and bid him take her and her luggage away next morning before break of day, and never stop or stay until they reached Duke Barnim's court at Stettin. The wind was half-way round now, and before nightfall they might reach Oderkruge. He would first just write a few lines to his Highness; and when Marcus had made all needful preparation, let him come here to his private apartment and receive the letter. He had selected him for the business because he was Sidonia's cousin, and also because he was the only young man at the castle whom the wanton had not ensnared in her toils.

But that night Ulrich had reason to know that Sidonia and her lovers were dangerous enemies; for just as he had returned to his little room, and seated himself down at the table, to write to his Grace of Stettin the whole business concerning Sidonia, the window was smashed, and a large stone came plump down upon the ink-bottle close beside him, and stained all the paper. As Ulrich went out to call the guard, Appelmann, the equerry, came running up to him, complaining that his lordship's beautiful horse was lying there in the stable groaning like a human creature, for that some wretches had cut its tail clean off.

Ille.—"Were any of the grooms in the stable lately? or had he seen any one go by the window?"

Hic.—"No; it was impossible to see any one, on account of the darkness; but he thought he had heard some one creeping along by the wall."

Ille.—"Let him come then, fetch a lantern, and summon all the grooms; he would give it to the knaves. Had he heard anything of her Highness recently?"

Hic.—"A maid told him that her Grace was better, and had retired to rest."

Ille.—"Thank God. Now they might go."

But as they proceeded along the corridor, which was now almost quite dark, the old knight suddenly received such a blow upon his hat that the beautiful aigrette was broken, and he himself thrown against the wall with such violence that he lay a quarter of an hour insensible; then he shook his grey head. What could that mean? Had Appelmann seen any one?

Hic.—"Ah! no; but he thought he heard steps, as if of some one running away."

So they went on to the ducal stables, but nothing was to be seen or heard. The grooms knew nothing about the matter—the guard knew nothing. Then the old knight lamented over his beautiful horse, and told Appelmann to ride next morning, with Marcus Bork and Sidonia, to the Duke's castle at Stettin, and purchase the piebald mare for him from his Grace, about which they had been bargaining some time back; but he must keep all this secret, for the young nobles were to know nothing of the journey.

Ah, what fine fun this is for the cunning rogue. "If his lordship would only give him the purse, he would bring him back a far finer horse than that which some knaves had injured." Whereupon the old knight went down to reckon out the rose-nobles—but, lo! a stone comes whizzing past him close to his head, so that if it had touched him, methinks the old man would never have spoken a word more. In short, wherever he goes, or stops, or stands, stones and buffets are rained down upon him, so that he has to call the guard to accompany him back to his chamber; but he lays the saddle on the right horse at last, as you shall hear in another place.

After some hours everything became quiet in the castle, for the knaves were glad enough to sleep off their drunkenness. And so, early in the morning before dawn, while they were all snoring in their beds, Sidonia was carried off, scream as she would along the corridor, and even before the young knight's chamber; not a soul heard her. For she had not been brought to the prison tower, as at first commanded, but to her own little chamber, likewise the young lord to his; for the Grand Chamberlain thought afterwards this proceeding would not cause such scandal.

But there truly was great grief in the castle when they all rose, and the cry was heard that Sidonia was gone; and some of the murderous lords threatened to make the old man pay with his blood for it. Item, no sooner was it day than Dr. Gerschovius ran in, crying that some of the young profligates had broken all his windows the night before, and turned a goat into the rectory, with the catechism of his dear and learned brother tied round his neck.

Then old Ulrich's anger increased mightily, as might be imagined, and he brought the priest with him to the Duchess, who had got but little rest that night, and was busily turning her wheel with the little clock-work, and singing to it, in a loud, clear voice, that beautiful psalm (120th)—"In deep distress I oft have cried." She paused when they entered, and began to weep. "Was it not all prophesied? Why had she been persuaded to throw off her mourning, and slight the memory of her loved Philip? It was for this the wrath of God had come upon her house; for assuredly the Lord would avenge the innocent blood that had been shed."

Then Ulrich answered that, as her Grace knew, he had earnestly opposed this festival; but as to what regarded, the traitor whose head he had chopped off, he was ready to answer for that blood, not only to man but before God. For had not the coward struck his own sovereign lady the Princess with the drumstick? Item, was he not in the act of rising to repeat the blow, as the whole nobility are aware, only he lost his head by the way; and if this had not been done, all order and government must have ceased throughout the land, and the mice and the rats rule the cats, which was against the order of nature and contrary to God's will. But his gracious lady might take consolation, for Sidonia had been carried from the castle that morning by four of the clock, and, by God's grace, never should set foot in it again. But there was another gravamen, and that concerned the young nobles, who, no doubt, would become more daring after the events of last evening. Then he related what had happened to the priest. "Item, what did my gracious lady mean to do with those drunken libertines? If her Grace had kept up the huntings and the fishings, as in the days of good Duke Philip, mayhap the young men would have been less given to debauchery; but her Grace kept an idle house, and they had nothing to do but drink and brew mischief. If her Grace had no fitting employment for these young fellows, then he would pack them all off to the devil the very next morning, for they brought nothing but disrespect upon the princely house of Wolgast."

So her Grace rejoiced over Sidonia's departure, but could not consent to send away the young knights. Her beloved husband and lord, Philippus Primus, always kept a retinue of such young nobles, and all the princely courts did the same. What would her cousin of Brandenburg and Mecklenburg say, when they heard that she had no longer knights or pages at her court? She feared her princely name would be mentioned with disrespect.

So Ulrich replied, that at all events, this set of young boisterers must be sent off, as they had grown too wild and licentious to be endured any longer; and that he would select a new retinue for her Grace from the discreetest and most sober-minded young knights of the court. Marcus Bork, however, might remain; he was true, loyal, and brave—not a wine-bibber and profligate like the others.

So her Grace at last consented, seeing that no good would come of these young men now; on the contrary, they would be more daring and riotous than ever from rage, when they found that Sidonia had been sent away; and that business of the window-smashing and the goat demanded severe punishment. So let Ulrich look out for a new household; these gay libertines would be sent away.

While she was speaking, the door opened, and Prince Ernest entered the chamber, looking so pale and haggard, that her Grace clasped her hands together, and asked him, with terror, what had happened.

Ille.—"Did she ask what had happened, when all Pomerania rung with it?—when nobles were beheaded before her face as if they were nothing more than beggars' brats?—when the delicate and high-born Lady Sidonia, who had been entrusted to her care by Duke Barnim himself, was turned out of the castle in the middle of the night as if she were a street-girl, because, forsooth, she would not learn her catechism? The world would scarcely credit such scandalous acts, and yet they were all true. But to-morrow (if this weakness which had come over him allowed of it) he would set off for Stettin, also to Berlin and Schwerin, and tell the princes there, his cousins, what government they held in Wolgast. He would soon be twenty, and would then take matters into his own hands; and he would pray his guardian and dear uncle, Duke Barnim, to pronounce him at once of age; then the devil might take Ulrich and his government, but he would rule the castle his own way."

Her Grace.—"But what did he complain of? What ailed him? She must know this first, for he was looking as pale as a corpse."

Ille.—"Did she not know, then, what ailed him? Well, since he must tell her, it was anger-anger that made him so pale and weak."

Her Grace.—"Anger, was it? Anger, because the false wanton, Sidonia, had been removed by her orders from her princely castle? Ah! she knew now what the wanton had come there for; but would he kill his mother? She nearly sank upon the ground last night when he called the impudent wench his bride. But she forgave him; it must have been the wine he drank made him so forget himself; or was it possible that he spoke in earnest?"

Ille (sighing).—"The future will tell that." "Oh, woe is me! what must I live to hear? If thy father could look up from his grave, and see thee disgracing thy princely blood by a marriage with a bower maiden!—. thou traitorous, disobedient son, do not lie to me. I know from thy sighs what thy purpose is—for this thou art going to Stettin and Berlin."

The Prince is silent, and looks down upon the ground.

Her Grace.—"Oh, shame on thee! shame on thee for the sake of thy mother! shame on thee for the sake of this servant of God, thy second father, this old man here! What! a vile knave strike thy mother, before the face of all the court, and thou condemnest him because he avenged her! Truly thou art a fine, brave son, to let thy mother be struck before thy face, for the sake of a harlot. Canst thou deny it? I conjure thee by the living God, tell me is it thy true purpose to take this harlot to thy wife?"

Ille.—"He could give but one answer, the future would decide."

Her Grace (weeping).—"Oh, she was reserved for all misfortunes! Why did Doctor Martinus let her ring fall? All, all has followed from that! If he had chosen a good, humble, honest girl, she would say nothing; but this wanton, this light maiden, that ran after every carl and let them court her!"

Here the young Prince was seized with such violent convulsions that he fell upon the floor, and her Grace raised him up with loud lamentations. He was carried in a dead faint to his chamber, and the court physician, Doctor Pomius, instantly summoned. Doctor Pomius was a pompous little man (for my father knew him well), dry and smart in his words, and with a face like a pair of nutcrackers, for his front teeth were gone, so that his lips seemed dried on his gums, like the skin of a mummy. He was withal too self-conceited and boastful, and malicious, full of gossip and ill-nature, and running down every one that did not believe that he (Doctor Pomius) was the only learned physician in the world. Following the celebrated rules laid down by Theophrastus Paracelsus, he cured everything with trash—and asses' dung was his infallible panacea for all complaints. This pharmacopoeia was certainly extremely simple, easily obtained, and universal in its application. If the dung succeeded, the doctor drew himself up, tossed his head, and exclaimed, "What Doctor Pomius orders always succeeds." But if the wretched patient slipped out of his hands into the other world, he shook his head and said, "There is an hour for every man to die; of course his had come—physicians cannot work miracles."

Pomius hated every other doctor in the town, and abused them so for their ignorance and stupidity, that finally her Grace believed that no one in the world knew anything but Doctor Pomius, and that a vast amount of profound knowledge was expressed, if he only put his finger to the end of his nose, as was his habit.

So, as I have said, she summoned him to attend the young lord; and after feeling his pulse and asking some questions respecting his general health, the doctor laid his finger, as usual, to his nose, and pronounced solemnly—"The young Prince must immediately take a dose of asses' dung stewed in wine, with a little of the laudanum paracelsi poured in afterwards—this will restore him certainly."

But it was all in vain; for the young Prince still continued day and night calling for Sidonia, and neither the Duchess nor Doctor Gerschovius could in any wise comfort him. This afflicted her Grace almost to the death; and by Ulrich's advice, she despatched her second son, Duke Barnim the younger, and Dagobert von Schwerin, to the court of Brunswick, to solicit in her name the hand of the young Princess Sophia Hedwig, for her son Ernest Ludovicus. Now, in the whole kingdom, there was no more beautiful princess than Sophia of Brunswick; and her Grace was filled with hope that, by her means, the influence of the detestable Sidonia over the heart of the young lord would be destroyed for ever.

In due time the ambassadors returned, with the most favourable answer. Father, mother, and daughter all gave consent; and the Duke of Brunswick also forwarded by their hands an exquisite miniature of his beautiful daughter for Prince Ernest.

This miniature her Grace now hung up beside his bed. Would he not look at the beautiful bride she had selected for him? Could there be a more lovely face in all the German empire? What was Sidonia beside her, but a rude country girl!—would he not give her up at last, this light wench? While, on the contrary, this illustrious princess was as virtuous as she was beautiful, and this the whole court of Brunswick could testify.

But the young lord would give no heed to her Grace, and spat out at the picture, and cried to take away the daub—into the fire with it—anywhere out of his sight. Unless his dear, his beautiful Sidonia came to tend him, he would die—he felt that he was dying.

So her Grace took counsel with old Ulrich, and Doctor Pomius, and the priest, what could be done now. The doctor mentioned that he must have been witch-struck. Then more doctors were sent for from the Grypswald, but all was in vain—no one knew what ailed him; and from day to day he grew worse.

Clara von Dewitz now bitterly reproached herself for having concealed her suspicions about the love-drink from her Grace—though indeed she did so by desire of her betrothed, Marcus Bork. But now, seeing that the young Prince lay absolutely at the point of death, she could no longer hold her peace, but throwing herself on her knees before her Grace, told her the whole story of the witch-girl whom she had sheltered in the castle, and of her fears that Sidonia had learned from her how to brew a love-philtre, which she had afterwards given to the Prince.

Her Grace was sore displeased with Clara for having kept all this a secret, and said that she would have expected more wisdom and discretion from her, seeing that she had always counted her the most worthy amongst her maidens; then she summoned Ulrich, and laid the evil matter before him. He shook his head; believed that they had hit on the true cause now. Such a sickness had nothing natural about it—there must be magic and witchwork in it; but he would have the whole land searched for the girl, and make her give the young lord some potion that would take off the spell.

Now the witch-girl had been pardoned a few days before that, and sent back to Usdom, near Daber; but bailiffs were now sent in all directions to arrest her, and bring her again to Wolgast without delay.

So the wretched creature was discovered, before long, in Kruge, near Mahlzow, where she had hired herself as a spinner for the winter, and brought before Ulrich and her Grace. She was there admonished to tell the whole truth, but persisted in asseverating that Sidonia had never learned from her how to make a love-drink. Her statement, however, was not believed; and Master Hansen was summoned, to try and make her speak more. The affair, indeed, appeared so serious to Ulrich, that he himself stood by while she was undergoing the torture, and carried on the protocollum, calling out to Master Hansen occasionally not to spare his squeezes. But though the blood burst from her finger-ends, and her hip was put out of joint, so that she limped ever after, she confessed nothing more, nor did she alter the statement which she had first made.

Item, her Grace, and the priest, and all the bystanders exhorted her in vain to confess the truth (for her Grace was present at the torture). At last she cried out, "Yes, I know something that will cure him! Mercy! mercy! and I will tell it."

So they unbound her, and she was going straightway to make her witch-potion, but old Ulrich changed his mind. Who could know whether this devil's fiend was telling them the truth? May be she would kill the young lord in place of curing him. So they gave her another stretch upon the rack. But as she still held by all her assertions, they spared her any further torture.

But, in my opinion, the young lord must have obtained something from her, otherwise he could not have recovered all at once the moment that Sidonia was brought back, as I shall afterwards relate.

Sum total.—The young Prince screamed day and night for Sidonia, and told her Grace that he now felt he was dying, and requested, as his last prayer upon this earth, to be allowed to see her once more. The maiden was an angel of goodness; and if she could but close his dying eyes, he would die happy.

It can be easily imagined with what humour her Grace listened to such a request, for she hated Sidonia like Satan himself; but as nothing else could satisfy him, she promised to send for her, if Prince Ernest would solemnly swear, by the corpse of his father, that he would never wed her, but select some princess for his bride, as befitted his exalted rank—the Princess Hedwig, or some other—as soon as he had recovered sufficiently to be able to quit his bed. So he quickly stretched forth his thin, white hand from the bed, and promised his dearly beloved mother to do all she had asked, if she would only send horsemen instantly to Stettin, for the journey by water was insecure, and might be tedious if the wind were not favourable.

Hereupon a great murmur arose in the castle; and young Duke Bogislaus fell into such a rage that he took his way back again to Camyn, and his younger brother, Barnim, accompanied him. But the anger of the Grand Chamberlain no words can express. He told her Grace, in good round terms, that she would be the mock of the whole land. The messengers had only just returned who had carried away Sidonia from the castle under the greatest disgrace; and now, forsooth, they must ride back again to bring her back with all honour.

"Oh, it was all true, quite true; but then, if her dearest son

Ernest were to die—"

Ille.—"Let him die. Better lose his life than his honour."

Hæc.—"He would not peril his honour, for he had sworn by the corpse of his father never to wed Sidonia."

Ille.—"Ay, he was quick enough in promising, but performing was a different thing. Did her Grace think that the passion of a man could be controlled by promises, as a tame horse by a bridle? Never, never. Passion was a wild horse, that no bit, or bridle, or curb could guide, and would assuredly carry his rider to the devil."

Her Grace.—"Still she could not give up her son to death; besides, he would repent and see his folly. Did not God's Word tell us how the prodigal son returned to his father, and would not her son return likewise?"

Ille.—"Ay, when he has kept swine. After that he may return, but not till then. The youngster was as great a fool about women as he had ever come across in his life."

Her Grace (weeping).—"He was too harsh on the young man. Had she not sent away the girl at his command; and now he would let her own child die before her eyes, without hope or consolation?"

Ille.—"But if her child is indeed dying, would she send for the devil to attend him in his last moments? Her Grace should be more consistent. If the young lord is dying, let him die; her Grace has other children, and God will know how to comfort her. Had he not been afflicted himself? and let her ask Dr. Gerschovius if the Lord had not spoken peace unto him."

Her Grace.—"Ah, true; but then neither of them are mothers. Her son is asking every moment if the messengers have departed, and what shall she answer him? She cannot lie, but must tell the whole bitter truth."

Ille.—"He saw the time had come at last for him to follow the young princes. He was of no use here any longer. Her Grace must give him permission to take his leave, for he would sail off that very day for his castle at Spantekow, and then she might do as she pleased respecting the young lord."

So her Grace besought him not to leave her in her sore trouble and perplexity. Her two sons had sailed away, and there was no one left to advise and comfort her.

But Ulrich was inflexible. "She must either allow her son quietly to leave this miserable life, or allow him to leave this miserable court service."

"Then let him go to Spantekow. Her son should be saved. She would answer before the throne of the Almighty for what she did. But would he not promise to return, if she stood in any great need or danger? for she felt that both were before her; still she must peril everything to save her child."

Ille.—"Yes, he would be ready on her slightest summons; and he doubted not but that Sidonia would soon give her trouble and sorrow enough. But he could not remain now, without breaking his knightly oath to Duke Philip, his deceased feudal seigneur of blessed memory, and standing before the court and the world as a fool."

So after many tears her Grace gave him his dismissal, and he rode that same day to Spantekow, promising to return if she were in need, and also to send her a new retinue and household immediately.

This last arrangement displeased Marcus Bork mightily, for he had many friends amongst the knights who were now to be dismissed, and so he, too, prayed her Grace for leave to resign his office and retire from court. He had long looked upon Clara von Dewitz with a holy Christian love, and, if her Grace permitted, he would now take her home as his dear loving wife.

Her Grace replied that she had long suspected this betrothal—particularly from the time that Clara told her of his advice respecting the concealment of the witch-girl's visit to Sidonia; and as he had acted wrongly in that business, he must now make amends by not deserting her in her greatest need. Her sons and old Ulrich had already left her; some one must remain in whom she could place confidence. It would be time enough afterwards to bring home his beloved wife Clara, and she would wish them God's blessing on their union.

Ille.—"True, he had been wrong in concealing that business with the witch-girl, but her Grace must pardon him. He never thought it would bring the young lord to his dying bed. Whatever her Grace now commanded he would yield obedience to."

"Then," said her Grace, "do you and Appelmann mount your horses instantly, ride to Stettin, and bring back Sidonia. For her dearly beloved son had sworn that he could not die easy unless he beheld Sidonia once more, and that she attended him in his last moments."

It may be easily imagined how the good knight endeavoured to dissuade her Highness from this course, and even spoke to the young Prince himself, but in vain. That same day he and Appelmann were obliged to set off for Stettin, and on their arrival presented the following letter to old Duke Barnim:—

"MARIA, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, BORN DUCHESS OF SAXONY, &c.

"ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE AND MY DEAR UNCLE—It has not been concealed from your Highness how our clear son Ernest Ludovicus, since the departure of Sidonia, has fallen, by the permission of God, into such a state of bodily weakness that his life even stands in jeopardy.

"He has declared that nothing will restore him but to see Sidonia once more. We therefore entreat your Highness, after admonishing the aforesaid maiden severely upon her former light and unseemly behaviour, to dismiss her with our messengers, that they may return and give peace and health to our dearly beloved son.

"If your Highness would enjoy a hunt or a fishing with a tame sea-gull, it would give us inexpressible pleasure.

"We commend you lovingly to God's holy keeping.

"Given from our Castle of Wolgast, this Friday, April 15, 1569.