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Sidonia The Sorceress
By William Mienhold
VOLUME I
BOOK III.
CHAPTER III.
Sidonia tries another way to catch the priest, but fails through a mistake--Item, of her horrible spell, whereby she bewitched the whole princely race of Pomerania, so that, to the grievous sorrow of their fatherland, they remain barren even unto this day.
[Footnote: Note of Duke Bogislaff XIV.--"Ay, and will to the last day, vaeh mihi."]
As soon as the pious abbess was able to leave her bed, she sent for the priest, for she had strange suspicions about Sidonia, and asked the reverend clerk, if indeed her cure could have been effected by sympathy? and were it not rather some work of the bodily Satan himself? But my priest assured her concerning Sidonia's Christian faith; item, told, to the great wonderment of the abbess, that she no longer cared for the sub-prioret (we know why--she would sooner have the priest than the prioret), but was content to let Dorothea Stettin keep it or resign it, just as she pleased.
After this, the investiture of Sidonia took place, and the priest blessed her at the altar, and admonished her to take as her model the wise virgins mentioned Matt. xxv. (but God knows, she had followed the foolish virgins up to that period, and never ceased doing so to the end of her days).
Even on that very night, we shall see her conduct; for she bid her maid, Wolde, run and call up the convent porter, and despatch him instantly for the priest, saying that she was very ill, and he must come and pray with her. This excited no suspicion, since she herself had forbade the priest entering the convent, unless any of the sisters were sick. But Anna Apenborg slipped out of bed when she heard the noise, and watched from the windows for the porter's return. Then she tossed up the window, though the snow blew in all over her bed, and called out, "Well, what says he? will he come? will he come?"
And when the fellow grunted in answer, "Yes, he's coming," she wrapped a garment round her, and set herself to watch, though her teeth were chattering from cold all the time. In due time the priest came, whereupon the curious virgin crept out of her garret, and down the stairs to a little window in the passage which looked in upon the refectory, and through which, in former times, provisions were sometimes handed in. There she could hear everything that passed.
When the priest entered, Sidonia stretched out her meagre arms towards him, and thanked him for coming; would he sit down here on the bed, for there was no other seat in the room? she had much to tell him that was truly wonderful. But the priest remained standing: let her speak on.
Illa.--"Ah! it concerned himself. She had dreamt a strange dream (God be thanked that it was not a reality), but it left her no peace. Three times she awoke, and three fell asleep and dreamt it again. At last she sent for him, for there might be danger in store for him, and she would turn it away if possible."
Hic.--"It was strange, truly. What, then, had she dreamed?"
Illa.--"It seemed to her that murderers had got up into his room through the window, and just as they were on the point of strangling him, she had appeared and put them to flight, whereupon--" (here she paused and sighed).
Hic (in great agitation).--"Go on, for God's sake go on--what further?"
Illa.--"Whereupon--ah! she must tell him now, since he forced her to do it. Whereupon, out of gratitude, he took her to be his wife, and they were married" (sighing, and holding both hands before her eyes).
Hic (clasping his hands).--"Merciful Heaven! how strange! I dreamt all that precisely myself."
[Footnote: The power of producing particular dreams by volition, was recognised by the ancients and philosophers of the Middle Ages. Ex. Albertus Magnus relates (De Mirabilibus Mundi 205) that horrible dreams can be produced by placing an ape's skin under the pillow. He also gives a receipt for making women tell their secrets in sleep (but this I shall keep to myself). Such phenomena are neither physiologically nor psychologically impossible, but our modern physiologists are content to take the mere poor form of nature, dissect it, anatomise it, and then bury it beneath the sand of their hypotheses. Thus, indeed, "the dead bury their dead," while all the strange, mysterious, inner powers of nature, which the philosophers of the Middle Ages, as Psellus, Albertus Magnus, Trithemius, Cardanus, Theophastus, etc., did so much to elucidate, are at once flippantly and ignorantly placed in the category of "Superstitions," "Absurdities," and "Artful Deceptions."]
Upon which Sidonia cried out, "How can it be possible? Oh, it is the will of God, David--it is the will of God" (and she seized him by both hands).
But the priest remained as cold as the snow outside, drew back his head, and said, "Ah! no doubt these absurdities about marriage came into my head because I had been thinking so much over our young Lord Philip of Wolgast, who was wedded to-day at Berlin."
Sidonia started up at this, and screamed in rage and anger--"What! Duke Philip married to-day in Berlin? The accursed prioress told me the wedding was not to be for eight days after the next new moon."
The priest now was more astonished at her manner than even at the coincidence of the dreams, and he started back from the bed. Whereupon, perceiving the mistake she had made, the horrible witch threw herself down again, and letting her head fall upon the pillow, murmured, "Oh! my head! my head! She must have locked up the moon in the cellar. How will the poor people see now by night?--why did the prioress lock up the moon? Oh! my head! my head!" Then she thanked the priest for coming--it was so good of him; but she was worse--much worse. "Ah! her head! her head! Better go now--but let him come again in the morning to see her." So the good priest believed in truth that the detestable hag was very ill, and evidently suffering from fever; so he went his way pitying her much, and without the least suspicion of her wicked purposes.
Scarcely, however, had he closed the door, when Sidonia sprang like a cat from her bed, and called out, "Wolde, Wolde!" And as the old witch hobbled in with her lame leg, Sidonia raged and stamped, crying out, "The accursed abbess has lied to me. Ernest Ludovicus' brat was married to-day at Berlin. Oh! if I am too late now, as on his father's marriage, I shall hang myself in the laundry. Where is Chim--the good-for-nothing spirit?--he should have seen to this." And she dragged him out and beat him, while he quaked like a hare.
Whereupon Wolde called out, "Bring the padlock from the trunk." The other answered, "What use now?--the bridal pair are long since wedded and asleep." To which the old witch replied, "No; it is twelve o'clock here, but in Berlin it wants a quarter to it yet. There is time. The Berlin brides never retire to their apartment till the clock strikes twelve. There is time still."
"Then," exclaimed Sidonia, "since the devil cannot tell me on what day they hold bridal, I will make an end now of the whole accursed griffin brood, in all its relationships, branch and root, now and for evermore, in Wolgast as in Stettin; be they destroyed and rooted out for ever and for ever." Then she took the padlock, and murmured some words over it, of which Anna Apenborg could only catch the names, Philip, Francis, George, Ulrich, Bogislaff, who were all sons to Duke Bogislaff XIII., and, in truth, died each one without leaving an heir. And, during the incantation, the light trembled and burned dim upon the table, and the thing which she had beaten seemed to speak with a human voice, and the bells on the turret swung in the wind with a low sound, so that Anna fell on her knees from horror, and scarcely dared to breathe. Then the accursed sorceress gave the padlock and key to Wolde, bidding her go forth by night and fling it into the sea, repeating the words:--
"Hid deep in the sea Let my dark spell be, For ever, for ever! To rise up never!"
Then Wolde asked, "Had she forgotten Duke Casimir?" Whereat Sidonia laughed and said, "The spell had long been on him." And immediately after, Anna Apenborg beheld three shadows, in place of two, thrown upon the white wall opposite the little window. So she strengthened her heart to look in, and truly there was another form present now. And the three danced together, and chanted strange rhymes, while the shadows on the wall danced up and down likewise. Then a deep bass voice called out, "Ha! there is Christian flesh here! Ha! there is Christian flesh!" Whereupon Anna, though nearly dead with fright, crept up to her garret on her knees, while loud laughter resounded behind her; and it seemed as if old pots were flung up the stairs after her. [Footnote: Note of Duke Bogislaff XIV.--Incredibile sane, et tamen verum. Cur, mi Deus?--(It seems impossible, and yet how true. Wherefore, my God?)
For the rest of that night she could not close her eyes.
The spell by knotting the girdle is noticed by Virgil, 8th eclogue:
"Necte tribus nodis ternos Amarylli colores; Necte Amarylli modo, et Veneris die vincula necto."
class="s"[In three knots Amaryllis weaves three different colours; Amaryllis knots and says: I knot the girdle of Venus.]
The use of the padlock is not mentioned until the Middle Ages, when it seems to have been so much employed that severe ordinances were directed against its use.]
Next morning, one can easily imagine with what eagerness she hurried to the abbess, to relate the past night's horrible tale. Sidonia likewise is astir early, for by daybreak she despatched her old lame Wolde to the chaplain (the porter was not up yet) with a can of beer for his great trouble the night before, and trusted it would strengthen his heart. In this beer she had poured her detestable love-philtrum, to awaken a passion for herself in the breast of the reverend David, but it turned out quite otherwise, and ended after the most ludicrous fashion, no doubt all owing to the malice of the spirit Chim, in revenge for the blows she had given him the night previous; for, behold, as soon as the priest had swallowed a right good draught of beer, he began to stare at the old hag and murmur; then he passed his hand over his eyes, and motioned her to remain. Again he looked at her--twice, thrice--put some silver into her hand, and at last spake--"Ah! Wolde, what a beautiful creature you are! Where have my eyes been, that I never discovered this before?"
The cunning hag saw now plainly what the drink had done, and which way the wind blew. So she sat herself down simpering, by the stove, and my priest crept up close beside her; he took her hand--"Ah! how fat and plump it was--such a beautiful hand."
But the old hag drew it back, saying, "Let me go, Mr. David!" To which he answered, "Yes, go, my treasure! I love to see you walk! What an exquisite limp! How stupid are men nowadays not to see all the beauty of a limp! Ah! Venus knew it well, and therefore chose Vulcan, for he, too, limped like my Wolde. Give me a kiss then, loveliest of women! Ah! what enchanting snow-white hair, like the purest silver, has my treasure on her head."
No wonder the old lame hag was tickled with the commendations, for, in all the sixty years of her life, she never had heard the like before. But she played the prude, and pushed away the priest with her hand, just as, by good fortune, a messenger from the abbess knocked at the door, with a request that the chaplain would come to the good mother without delay. So the old hag went away with the maid of the abbess, and the priest stopped to dress himself more decently.
But in some time the abbess, who was on the watch, saw him striding past her door; so she opened the window and called out to know "Where was he going? Had he forgotten that she lived there?" To which he answered, "He must first visit Sidonia." At this the worthy matron stared at him in horror; but my priest went on; and as he cared more for the maid than the mistress now, ran at once into the kitchen, without waiting to see Sidonia in the refectory; and seizing hold of Wolde, whispered, "That she must give him the kiss now--she need not be such a prude, for he had no wife. And what beautiful hair! Never in his life had he seen such beautiful white hair!" But the old hag still resisted; and in the struggle a stool, on which lay a pot, was thrown down.
Sidonia rushed in at the noise; and behold! there was my priest holding Wolde by the hand. She nearly fainted at the sight. What was he doing with her maid? Then seizing a heavy log of wood, she began to lay it on Wolde's shoulders, who screamed and roared, while my priest slunk away ashamed, without a word; and as he ran down the steps, heard the blows and the screams still resounding from the kitchen.
As he passed the door of the abbess's room, again she called him in; but as he entered, she exclaimed in terror, "My God, what ails your reverence? You look as black and red in the face as if you had had a fit, and had grown ten years older in one night!"
"Nothing ails me," he answered; then sighed, and walked up and down the room, murmuring, "What is the world to me? Why should I care what the world thinks?" Then falls flat on the ground as if he were dead, while the good abbess screams and calls for help. In runs Anna Apenborg--item, several other sisters with their maids, and they stretch the priest out upon a bench near the stove, where he soon begins to foam at the mouth, and throw up all the beer, with the love-philtrum therein, which he had drunk (Sidonia's power effected this, no doubt, since she saw how matters stood).
Then he heaved a deep sigh, opened his eyes, and asked, "Where am I?" Whereupon, finding that his reason and clear understanding had been restored to him, he requested the sisterhood to depart (for they had all rushed in to hear what was going on) and leave him alone with the abbess, as he had matter of grave import to discuss with her. Whereupon they all went out, except Anna Apenborg, who said that she, too, had matter of grave import to relate. So finding she would not stir, the priest took her by the hand, and put her out at the door along with the others.
Now when they were both left alone, we can easily imagine the subject of their conversation. The poor priest made his confession, concealing nothing, only lamenting bitterly how he had disgraced his holy calling; but he had felt like one in a dream, or under some influence which he could not shake off. In return, the abbess told him of the horrible scene witnessed by Anna Apenborg the night before; upon which they both agreed that no more accursed witch and sorceress was in the world than their poor cloister held at that moment. Finally, putting all the circumstances together, the reverend David began to perceive what designs Sidonia had upon him, particularly when he heard of Anna Apenborg's visit to Jacobshagen, and the news which she had brought back from thence. So to destroy all hope at once in the accursed sorceress, and save himself from further importunity and persecution on her part, he resolved to offer his hand the very next day to Barbara Bamberg, for, in truth, he had long had an eye of Christian love upon the maiden, who was pious and discreet, and just suited to be a pastor's wife.
Then they agreed to send for the sheriff, and impart the whole matter to him, he being cloister superintendent; but his answer was, "Let them go to him, if they wanted to speak to him; for, as to him, he would never enter the convent again--his poor body had suffered too much there the last time."
Whereupon they went to him; but he could give no counsel, only to leave the matter in the hands of God the Lord; for if they appealed to the Prince, the sorceress would surely bewitch them again, and they would be screaming day and night, or maybe die at once, and then what help for them, etc.
Sidonia meanwhile was not idle; for she sent messages throughout the whole convent that she lay in her bed sick unto death, and they must needs come and pray with her, along with the priest, before they assembled in the chapel for service. At this open blasphemy and hypocrisy, a great fear and horror fell upon the abbess, likewise upon the priest, since the witch had specially named him, and desired that he would come before service to pray with her. For a long while he hesitated, at last promised to visit her after service; but again bethought himself that it would be more advisable to visit her before, for he might possibly succeed in unveiling all her iniquities, or if not, he could pray afterwards in the church, "that if indeed Sidonia were really sick, and a child of God, the just and merciful Father would raise her up and strengthen her in her weakness; but if she were practising deceit, and were no child of God, but an accursed limb of Satan, then he would give her up into the hands of God for punishment, for had He not said, 'Vengeance is Mine, I will repay, saith the Lord'? (Romans xii. 19.)"
This pleased the abbess, and forthwith the reverend David proceeded to the refectory.
Now Sidonia had not expected him so early, and she was up and dressed, busily brewing another hellish drink to have ready for him by the time he arrived; but when his step sounded in the passage, she whipped into bed and covered herself up with the clothes, not so entirely, however, but that a long tail of her black robe fell outside from under the white sheet--this, unluckily for herself, she knew nothing of. The priest, however, saw it plainly, and had, moreover, heard the jump she gave into bed just as he opened the door; but he made no remark, only greeted her as usual, and asked what she wanted with him.
Illa.--"Ah! she was sick, sick unto death--would he not pray for her? for the night before she was too ill to pray, and no doubt the Lord was angry with her, by reason of the omission. This morning, indeed, she had crept out of bed, just to scold her awkward maid for breaking all the pots and pans, as he himself saw, but had to go to bed again, and was growing weaker and weaker every quarter of an hour. But the good priest must taste her beer; let him drink a can of it first to strengthen his heart. It was the best beer she had made yet, and her maid had just tapped a fresh barrel."
Here the reverend David made answer--"He thanked her for her beer, but would drink none. He could not believe, either, that she was as ill as she said, and had been lying in bed all the morning."
But she persisted so vehemently in her falsehoods that the very boards under her must have felt ashamed, if they had possessed any consciousness. Whereupon the priest shuddered in horror and disgust, bent down silently, and lifted up the piece of her robe which lay outside.
"What did this mean? did she wear her nun's dress in bed? or was she not rather making a mock of him, and the whole convent, by her pretended sickness?"
Here Sidonia grew red with shame and wrath; but, ere she could utter a word, the priest continued with a holy and righteous anger--
"Woe to thee, Sidonia! for thou art a byword amongst the people. Woe to thee, Sidonia! for thou hast passed thy youth in wantonness and thy old age in sin. Woe to thee, Sidonia! for thy hellish arts brought thy mother the abbess, and thy father the superintendent, nearly to their graves. Woe to thee, Sidonia! for this past night thou hast taken a horrible revenge upon the whole princely race, and cursed them by the power which the devil gives thee. Woe to thee, Sidonia! for by thy hellish drink thou didst seek to destroy me, the servant of the living God, to thy horrible maid still more horribly attracting me. Woe to thee, Sidonia! accursed witch and sorceress, blasphemer of God and man! Behold, thy God liveth, and thy Prince liveth, and they will rain fire and brimstone upon thy infamous head. Woe to thee! woe to thee! woe to thee! thou false serpent--thou accursed above all the generations of vipers--how wilt thou escape eternal damnation?"
When the righteous priest of God had ended his fearful malediction, he started at himself, for he knew not how the words had come into his mouth; then turned from the bed and went out, while a peal of laughter followed him from the room. But no evil happened to him at that time, as he had fully expected, from Sidonia (probably she feared to exasperate the convent and the Prince against her too much); but she treasured up her vengeance to another opportunity, as we shall hear further on.
END OF VOLUME I.
End of Project Gutenberg's Sidonia The Sorceress V1, by William Mienhold