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Sidonia The Sorceress
By William Mienhold
VOLUME I
BOOK I.
CHAPTER XIV.
How Duke Barnim of Stettin and Otto Bork accompany Sidonia back to Wolgast.
When his Highness of Stettin had finished the perusal of her Grace's letter, he laughed loudly, and exclaimed--
"This comes of all their piety and preachings. I knew well what this extravagant holiness would make of my dear cousin and old Ulrich. If people would persist in being so wonderfully religious, they would soon become as sour as an old cabbage head; and Sidonia declared, that, for her part, a hundred horses should not drag her back to Wolgast, where she had been lectured and insulted, and all because she would not learn her catechism like a little school-girl."
Nor would Otto Bork hear of her returning. (He was waiting at Stettin to conduct her back to Stramehl.) At last, however, he promised to consent, on condition that his Highness would grant him the dues on the Jena.
Now the Duke knew right well that Otto wanted to revenge himself upon the people of Stargard, with whom he was at enmity; but he pretended not to observe the cunning knight's motives, and merely replied--
"They must talk of the matter at Wolgast, for nothing could be decided upon without having the opinion of his cousin the Duchess."
So the knight taking this as a half-promise, and Sidonia having at last consented, they all set off on Friday with a good south wind in their favour, and by that same evening were landed by the little water-gate at Wolgast. His Highness was received with distinguished honours--the ten knights of her Grace's new household being in waiting to receive him as he stepped on shore.
So they proceeded to the castle, the Duke having Sidonia upon one arm, and a Cain under the other, which he had been carving during the passage, for the Eve had long since been finished. Otto followed; and all the people, when they beheld Sidonia, uttered loud cries of joy that the dear young lady had come back to them.
This increased her arrogance, so that when her Grace received her, and began a godly admonishment upon her past levities, and conjured her to lead a modest, devout life for the future, Sidonia replied indiscreetly--"She knew not what her Grace and her parson meant by a modest, devout life, except it were learning the catechism of Dr. Gerschovius; from such modesty and devoutness she begged to be excused, she was no little school-girl now--she thought her Grace had got rid of all her whims and caprices, by sending for her after having turned her out of the castle without any cause whatever--but it was all the old thing over again."
Her Grace coloured up with anger at this bitter speech, but held her peace. Then Otto addressed her, and begged leave to ask her Grace what kind of order was held at her court, where a priest was allowed to slap the fingers of a noble young maiden, and a chamberlain to smite her on the face? Had he known that such were the usages at her court of Wolgast, the Lady Sidonia (such he delighted to call her, as though she were of princely race) never should have entered it, and he would now instantly take her back to Stramehl, if her Grace would not consent to give him up the dues on the Jena.
Now her Grace knew nothing about the dues, and therefore said, turning to the Duke--"Dear uncle, what does this arrogant knave mean? I do not comprehend his insolent speech." Hereupon Otto chafed with rage, that her Grace had named him with such contempt, and cried--"Then was your husband a knave, too! for my blood is as noble and nobler than your own, and I am lord of castles and lands. Come, my daughter; let us leave the robbers' den, or mayhap thy father will be struck even as thou wert."
Now her Grace knew not what to do, and she lamented loudly--more particularly because at this moment a message arrived from Prince Ernest, praying her for God's sake to bring Sidonia to him, as he understood that she had been in the castle now a full quarter of an hour. Then old Otto laughed loudly, took his daughter by the hand, and cried again, "Come--let us leave this robber hole. Come, Sidonia!"
This plunged her Grace into despair, and she exclaimed in anguish, "Will you not have pity on my dying child?" but Otto continued, "Come, Sidonia! come, Sidonia!" and he drew her by the hand.
Here Duke Barnim rose up and said, "Sir Knight, be not so obstinate. Remember it is a sorrowing mother who entreats you. Is it not true, Sidonia, you will remain here?"
Then the cunning hypocrite lifted her kerchief to her eyes, and replied, "If I did not know the catechism of Doctor Gerschovius, yet I know God's Word, and how the Saviour said, 'I was sick and ye visited Me,' and James also says, 'The prayer of faith shall save the sick.' No, I will not let this poor young lord die, if my visit and my prayer can help him."
"No, no," exclaimed Otto, "thou shall not remain, unless the dues of the Jena be given up to me." And as at this moment another page arrived from Prince Ernest, with a similar urgent request for Sidonia to come to him, her Grace replied quickly, "I promise all that you desire," without knowing what she was granting; so the knight said he was content, and let go his daughter's hand.
Now the good town of Stargard would have been ruined for ever by this revengeful man, if his treacherous designs had not been defeated (as we shall see presently) by his own terrible death. He had long felt a bitter hatred to the people of Stargard, because at one time they had leagued with the Greifenbergers and the Duke of Pomerania to ravage his town of Stramehl, in order to avenge an insult he had offered to the old burgomaster, Jacob Appelmann, father of the chief equerry, Johann Appelmann. In return for this outrage, Otto determined, if possible, to get the control of the dues of the Jena into his own hands, and when the Stargardians brought their goods and provisions up the Jena, and from thence prepared to enter the river Haff, he would force them to pay such exorbitant duty upon everything, that the merchants and the people, in short, the whole town, would be ruined, for their whole subsistence and merchandise came by these two rivers, and all this was merely to gratify his revenge. But the just God graciously turned away the evil from the good town, and let it fall upon Otto's own head, as we shall relate in its proper place.
So, when the old knight had let go his daughter's hand, her Grace seized it, and went instantly with Sidonia to the chamber of the young lord, all the others following. And here a moving scene was witnessed, for as they entered, Prince Ernest extended his thin, pale hands towards Sidonia, exclaiming, "Sidonia, ah, dearest Sidonia, have you come at last to nursetend me?" then he took her little hand, kissed it, and bedewed it with his tears, still repeating, "Sidonia, dearest Sidonia, have you come to nursetend me?"
So the artful hypocrite began to weep, and said--. "Yes, my gracious Prince, I have come to you, although your priest struck me on the fingers, and your mother and old Ulrich called me a harlot, before all the court, and lastly, turned me out of the castle by night, as if I had been a swine-herd; but I have not the heart to let your Highness surfer, if my poor prayers and help can abate your sickness; therefore let them strike me, and call me a harlot again, if they wish."
This so melted the heart of my gracious Prince Ernest, that he cried out, "O Sidonia, angel of goodness, give me one kiss, but one little kiss upon my mouth, Sidonia! bend down to me--but one, one kiss!" Her Grace was dreadfully scandalised at such a speech, and said he ought to be ashamed of such words. Did he not remember what he had sworn by the corpse of his father at St. Peter's? But old Duke Barnim cried out, laughing--"Give him a kiss, Sidonia; that is the best plaster for his wounds; 'a kiss in honour brings no dishonour,' says the proverb."
However, Sidonia still hesitated, and bending down to the young man, said, "Wait, gracious Prince, until we are alone."
If the Duchess had been angry before, what was it to her rage now--"Alone! she would take good care they were never to be alone!"
Otto took no notice of this speech, probably because he saw that matters were progressing much to his liking between the Prince and his daughter; but Duke Barnim exclaimed, "How now, dearest cousin, are you going to spoil all by your prudery? You brought the girl here to cure him, and what other answer could she give? Bend thee down, Sidonia, and give him one little kiss upon the lips--I, the Prince, command thee; and see, thou needst not be ashamed, for I will set thee an example with his mother. Come, dear cousin, put off that sour face, and give me a good, hearty kiss; your son will get well the sooner for it:" but as he attempted to seize hold of her Grace, she cried out, and lifted up her hands to Heaven, lamenting in a loud voice--"Oh, evil and wicked world! may God release me from this wicked world, and lay me down this day beside my Philip in the grave!" Then weeping and wringing her hands, she left the chamber, while the old knight, and--God forgive him!--even Duke Barnim, looked after her, laughing.
"Come, Otto," said his Grace, "let us go too, and leave this pair alone; I must try and pacify my dear cousin." So they left the room, and on the way Otto opened his mind to the Duke about this love matter, and asked his Grace, would he consent to the union, if Prince Ernest, on his recovery, made honourable proposals for his daughter Sidonia.
But his Grace was right crafty, and merely answered--"Time enough to settle that, Otto, when he is recovered; but methinks you will have some trouble with his mother unless you are more civil to her; so if you desire her favour, bear yourself more humbly, I advise you, as befits a subject."
This the knight promised, and the conversation ceased, as they came up with the Duchess just then, who was waiting for them in the grand corridor. No sooner did she perceive that Sidonia was not with them than she cried out, "So my son is alone with the maiden!" and instantly despatched three pages to watch them both.
Otto had now changed his tone, and instead of retorting, thanked her Grace for the praiseworthy and Christian care she took of his daughter. He did not believe this at first, but now he saw it with his own eyes. Alas, it was too true, the world was daily growing worse and worse, and the devil haunted us with his temptations, like our own flesh and blood. Then he sighed and kissed her hand, and prayed her Grace to pardon him his former bold language--but, in truth, he had felt displeased at first to see her Grace so harsh to Sidonia, when every one else at the castle received her with rapture; but he saw now that she only meant kindly and motherly by the girl.
Then the Duke asked, her pardon for his little jest about the kissing. She knew well that he meant no harm; and also that it was not in his nature to endure any melancholy or lamentable faces around him.
So her Grace was reconciled to both, and when the Duke announced that he and the knight proposed visiting Barth, a little town; and Eldena was at that time a richly endowed convent near Greifswald, and Eldena, from whence they would return in a few days, to take their leave of her, she said that if her dearest son Ernest grew any better, she would have a grand battuein honour of his Highness Duke Barnim, upon their return.
Accordingly, after having amused themselves for a little fishing with the tame sea-gull, the Duke and Otto rode away, and her Grace went to the chamber of the young Prince, to keep watch there during the night. She would willingly have dismissed Sidonia, but he forbade her; and Sidonia herself declared that she would watch day and night by the bedside of the young lord. So she sat the whole night by his bed, holding his hand in hers, and told him about her journey, and how shamefully she had been smuggled away out of the castle by old Ulrich, because she would not learn the catechism; and of her anguish when the messengers arrived, and told of their young lord's illness. She was quite certain Ulrich must have given him something to cause it, as a punishment for having released her from prison, for if he could strike a maiden, it was not surprising that he would injure even his future reigning Prince to gratify his malice. It was well the old malignant creature was away now, as she was told, and if his Grace did right he would play him a trick in return, and set fire to his castle at Spantekow as soon as he was able to move.
Her Grace endured all this in silence, for her dear son's sake, though in truth her anger was terrible. The young lord, however, grew better rapidly, and the following day was even able to creep out of bed for a couple of hours, to touch the lute. And he taught Sidonia all, and placed her little fingers himself on the strings, that she might learn the better. Then, for the first time, he called for something to eat, and after that fell into a profound sleep which lasted forty-eight hours. During this time he lay like one dead, and her Grace would have tried to awaken him, but the physician prevented her. At length, when he awoke, he cried out loudly, first for Sidonia, and then for some food.
At last, to the great joy of her Grace, he was able, on the fourth day, to walk in the castle garden, and arranged to attend the hunt with his dear uncle upon his return to Wolgast. The Duke, on his arrival, rejoiced greatly to find the young lord so well, and said with his usual gay manner, "Come here, Sidonia; I have been rather unwell on the journey: come here and give me a kiss too, to make me better!" and Sidonia complied. Whereupon her Grace looked unusually sour, but said nothing, for fear of disturbing the general joy. Indeed, the whole castle was in a state of jubilee, and her Grace promised that she and her ladies would attend the hunt on the following day.
About this time the castle was troubled by a strange apparition--no other than the spectre of the serpent knight, who had been drowned some time previously. It was reported that every night the ghost entered the castle by the little water-gate, though it was kept barred and bolted, traversed the whole length of the corridor, and sunk down into the earth, just over the place where the ducal coaches and sleighs were kept.
Every one fled in terror before the ghost, and scarcely a lansquenet could be found to keep the night watch. What this spectre betokened shall be related further on in this little history, but at present I must give an account of the grand battue which took place according to her Grace's orders, and of what befell there.