firmly rooted in the past, but also the reputation enjoyed by Dietegen
himself in those warlike days and his whole appearance and demeanor,
were in favor of adjusting this matter according to his wishes, once
the first annoyance at the unceremonious interruption of so solemn a
spectacle as an execution had been overcome. Even the rancorous scribe,
Hans Schafuerli, who had put in an appearance to make sure of the death
of the witch, hid from the grim man of war, whose heavy hand he feared
despite his ordinarily daring temper.
The same priest who a short while back had been praying for the poor
delinquent, now was told to perform the wedding ceremony on the very
scaffold itself. Kuengolt was untied, placed upon her swaying feet, and
then asked whether she was willing to marry this man who sought her as
his lawful wife, and to follow him through life.
Mute she looked up to him who, after the cloth had been removed from
her eyes was the first object she saw again of this world that she had
taken leave from a few moments before, and it seemed to her that it
must all be a delicious dream. But in order to miss nothing even if it
should only turn out a dream, she nodded, being still unable to speak,
with great presence of mind, three or four times in rapid succession,
in a ghost-like manner, so that the severe councilmen of Ruechenstein
were touched, and to make quite sure she repeated her nodding another
few times. And tremblingly Kuengolt was supported during the wedding
ceremony by the same sinister men who had come to witness her shameful
death. But she became his wife according to all the established forms
of the Church.
And now, this done, she was handed over to Dietegen "with life and
limb," as the phrase went, just as she was, without any later claim of
dowry or recompense, damages, or excuse, against his payment of fees
for the priest and of money for ten gallons of wine for headsman and
assistants, as a wedding gift, and of three pounds of pennies for a new
jerkin for the headsman.
After paying all this, Dietegen took his wife by the hand and left with
her the place of execution.
Since he had to take her, however, just as she was, and she was not
only barefooted but merely clad in her death shift, the season also
being early and the weather chilly, she was suffering from this and
unable to keep step with her husband. He lifted her, therefore, from
the ground to his arms, pushed his hat back from his forehead, and then
she put her arms around his neck, leaned her head against his, and
immediately fell asleep, while he used his long spear as a staff in his
other hand. Thus he walked swiftly along on the mountain path, all
alone by himself, and he felt how in her sleep she was weeping softly,
and how her breath grew less agitated. At last her tears ran along his
own face, and then a strange illusion as though blessed bliss were
baptising him anew came over him. And this rough, war-hardened man, for
all his self-command, felt his own tears staining his ruddy bearded
chin. His was the life he bore in his arms, and he held it as if God's
whole world were in his keeping.
When they arrived on the spot where he himself, a small child, had sat
among the women in his scanty garb and where more recently poor
Kuengolt had been taken prisoner, the March sun shone clear and warm,
and he concluded to take a short rest. Dietegen sat down on the
boundary stone, and let his burden slowly glide down on his knees. The
first glance which she gave him, and the first poor words which she
stammered, were proof to him that he not only had truly fulfilled a
sacred duty towards her by what he had done, but that in addition he
had undertaken another, an even more sacred one, namely, to conduct
himself through life in such a manner as to be worthy of the happy lot
that had fallen to him in becoming the husband of the charming creature
at his side. And this he silently vowed to do.
The soil around the boundary stone was already thickly speckled with
primroses and wild violets, the sky was cloudless, and not a sound
broke the still air but the cheery song of the finches in the wood.
So they spoke no more for some time, but both breathed the soft air
that filled their lungs with new hope and life, but at last they rose,
and because from now on there was but the velvety moss-covered ground
to traverse which led through the beeches down to the forestry lodge,
Kuengolt was able to walk by his side. Suddenly she touched her golden
hair, being afraid that it had been shorn by the headsman. But as she
still found it unharmed, she halted for a moment, saying: "May I not
have a little bridal wreath?" And she looked at her husband with a
half-roguish smile.
He let his eyes roam all about him, and discovered a bunch of snowdrops
in full bloom. Quickly he went and cut off enough of the flowers to
weave into a coronet for his bride, and then he carefully placed it on
her head, saying: "It is not much. It is out of fashion. But let this
wreath be a token to us and all the world that our domestic honor will
remain as spotless as these. Whoever by word or deed will harm it, let
him pay the penalty!"
Then he kissed her once, firmly and with a look that boded ill to any
disturber of his peace, right under the wreath, and she looked up at
him, satisfied and with confidence, and then they two resumed again
their walk.
The forestry lodge they found empty and deserted. The house servants
had left it unguarded, partly from mourning Kuengolt whose death on the
scaffold they had assumed as certain, partly from neglect of their
duty. None of them returned under its roof that day. But Kuengolt and
Dietegen did not miss them. She now with every minute recovered more
and more from the numbing effects of her recent miseries, and to feel
herself at last in truth the mistress of this house and clothed with
wifely dignity poured balm into her soul. Like a squirrel she busied
herself, hurried from chamber to chamber, from closet to closet,
counting her treasures, investigating all. Soon she returned dressed in
the splendid bridal costume of her mother, the one she had told
Dietegen about that night when they, both small children, had shared
the same cot on the night of his first arrival, and she shone like a
queen in it. But next she set the table, using the linen which her
mother had always reserved for festive occasions, and placed in
platters and dishes on the snowy surface what she had been able to find
in the house.
All by themselves, with no noise from the outside world to disturb
them, they then sat down, she in her wreath, and he with weapons laid
aside, and ate the simple meal prepared by her. And then they went to
bed just as peacefully.
"Thus luck may turn!" she said, the second time that day, as she lay
content by the side of her beloved. For after all there was a bit of
roguishness left in her heart, despite all she had gone through.
Dietegen rose to be a man of great and generally acknowledged
reputation as a warrior and military leader in those troubled days. He
was not much better than others of his ilk in those times, but rather
subject to similar failings. He became a doughty captain in the field,
taking service with or against various countries and belligerents,
according to what seemed to him good and where his own advantage lay.
He hired mercenaries, earned gold and rich booty, and so he drifted
from one war to another, conducted one campaign after the other, always
fighting and seeing the horrors of warfare closely. And in so doing he
did precisely what the first men of his country did in those warlike
days, and he grew steadily in power and influence, and his word and his
mailed fist were held in awe in all those parts.
But with his wife he lived in uninterrupted concord and affection, and
the honor of his hearth was never questioned. And she bore him a number
of strong and militant children, all endowed with the vigorous spirit
alive in father and mother. And of their descendants there are
flourishing even at this day a number in sundry countries, rich in
substance and potency, in countries whither the warlike gifts of their
forbears had blown them.
Violande on her part soon after Dietegen's and Kuengolt's union, which
latter had been in such large part brought about by herself, retired to
a veritable convent, and became a nun for good and all. To the children
of the couple she sent quite often all sorts of goodies and tidbits.
She also rather retained her habit of being interested in the great
events of the day, and in influencing them by dint of feminine
intrigues more or less. She liked to sit along with other guests of
distinction, respected as a woman of shrewd and subtle mind and with a
huge golden cross on her bosom, on banquet days at Dietegen's house,
and she would demurely advise Dietegen, now adorned not only with a
long and majestic beard, but also with the heavy golden chain denoting
knighthood, in matters of state. Her counsel would still flow as
mellifluously as ever, and her politeness remained proverbial.
How Kuengolt looked at the beginning of the sixteenth century, after
many years of happy married life, may still be studied from the
painting of a great artist which hangs among others in a well-known
collection and which is expressly designated as her portrait. One sees
there a slim elegant patrician woman, the beautiful lineaments of the
face bespeaking plainly deep seriousness and uncommon understanding,
but tempered by a gentle and somewhat roguish humor.
She also died before old age had claimed her, like her mother in
consequence of a chill. That was when her husband, in one of the
campaigns for the possession of Milan, had perished and was buried in
the cemetery next a small chapel in Lombardy. Kuengolt hastened there,
intending to have a monument in his honor erected; but indeed she spent
two long nights at his tomb, with a ceaseless rainstorm raging, thus
contracting a fever that carried her off within a couple of days, and
she thus lies next to her husband in Italian soil.
ROMEO AND JULIET OF THE VILLAGE
ROMEO AND JULIET OF THE VILLAGE
Near the fine river which flows along half an hour's distance from
Seldwyla, rises in a long stretch a headland which finally, itself
carefully cultivated, is lost in the fertile plain. Some distance away
at the foot of this rise there lies a village, to which belong many
large farms, and across the hillock itself there were, years ago, three
splendid holdings, like unto as many giant ribbons, side by side.
One sunny September morning two peasants were plowing on two of these
vast fields, the two which stretched along the middle one. The middle
one itself seemed to have lain fallow and waste for a long, long time,
for it was thickly covered with stones, bowlders and tall weeds, and a
multitude of winged insects were humming around and over it. The two
peasants who on both sides of this huge wilderness were following their
plows, were big, bony men of near forty, and at the first glance one
could tell them as men of substance and well-regulated circumstances.
They wore short breeches made of strong canvas, and every fold in these
garments seemed to be carved out of rock. When they hit against some
obstacle with their plow their coarse shirt sleeves would tremble
slightly, while the closely shaved faces continued to look steadfastly
into the sunlight ahead. Tranquilly they would go on accurately
measuring the width of the furrow, and now and then looking around them
if some unusual noise reached their ears. They would then peer
attentively in the direction indicated, while all about them the
country spread out measureless and peaceful. Sedately and with a
certain unconscious grace they would set one foot before the other,
slowly advancing, and neither of them ever spoke a word unless it was
to briefly instruct the hired man who was leading the horses. Thus they
resembled each other strongly from a distance; for they fitly
represented the peculiar type of people of the district, and at first
sight one might have distinguished them from each other only by this
one fact that he on the one side wore the peaked fold of his white cap
in front and the other had it hanging down his neck. But even this kept
changing, since they were plowing in opposite directions; for when they
arrived at the end of the new furrow up on high, and thus passed each
other, the one who now strode against the strong east wind had his cap
tip turned over until it sat in the back of the bull neck, while the
second one, who had now the wind behind him, got the tip of his cap
reversed. There was also a middling moment, so to speak, when both caps
of shining white seemed to flare skywards like shimmering flames. Thus
they plowed and plowed in restful diligence, and it was a fine sight in
this still golden September weather to see them every short while
passing each other on the summit of the hill, then easily and slowly
drifting farther and farther apart, until both disappeared like sinking
stars beyond the curve of the rise, only to reappear a bit later in
precisely the same fashion.
When they found a stone in their furrows they threw it on the fallow
field between them, doing so leisurely and accurately, like men who
have learnt by habit to gauge the correct distance. But this occurred
rarely, for this waste field was apparently already loaded with about
all the pebbles, bowlders and rocks to be discovered in the
neighborhood.
In this quiet way the long forenoon was nearly spent when there
approached from the village a tiny vehicle. So small it looked at first
when it began to climb up the height that it seemed a toy. And indeed,
it was just that in a sense, for it was a baby carriage, painted in
vivid green, in which the children of the two plowers, a sturdy little
youngster and a slip of a small girl, jointly brought the lunch for
their parent's delectation. For each of the two fathers there lay a
fine appetizing loaf in the cart, wrapped neatly in a clean napkin, a
flask of cool wine, with glasses, and some smaller tidbits as well, all
of which the tender farmer's wife had sent along for the hard-working
husband. But there were other things as well in the little vehicle:
apples and pears which the two children had picked up on the way and
out of which they had taken a bite or so, and a wholly naked doll with
only one leg and a face entirely soiled and besmeared, and which sat
self-satisfied in this carriage like a dainty young lady and allowed
herself to be transported in this way. This small vehicle after sundry
difficulties and delays at last arrived in the shade of a high growth
of underbrush which luxuriated there at the edge of the big field, and
now it was time to take a look at the two drivers. One was a boy of
seven, the other a little girl of five, both of them sound and healthy,
and else there was nothing remarkable about them except that they had
very fine eyes and the girl, besides, a rather tawny complexion and
curly dark hair, and the expression of her little face was ardent and
trustful.
The plowers meanwhile had also reached once more the top, given their
horses a provender of clover, and left their plows in the half-done
furrow; then as good neighbors they went to partake jointly of the
tempting collation, and meeting there they gave greeting, for until
that moment they had not yet spoken to each other on that day.
While they ate, slowly but with a keen appetite, and of their food also
shared with the children, the latter not budging as long as there were
eatables in sight, they allowed their glances to roam near and far, and
their eyes rested on the town lying there spread out in its wreath of
mountains, with its haze of shiny smoke. For the plentiful noonday meal
which the Seldwylians prepared each and every day used to conjure up a
silvery cloud of smoke surrounding the roofs and visible from afar, and
this would float right along the sides of their mountains.
"These loafers at Seldwyla are again living on the fat of the land,"
said Manz, one of the two peasants, and Marti, the other, replied:
"Yesterday a man called on me on account of these fallow fields."
"From the district council? Yes, he saw me too," rejoined Manz.
"Hm, and probably also said you might use the land and pay the rental
to the council?"
"Yes, until it should have been decided whom the land belongs to and
what is to be done with it. But I wouldn't think of it, with the land
in the condition it's in, and told him they might sell the land and
keep the money till the owner had been found, which probably will never
be done. For, as we know, whatever is once in the hands of the
custodian at Seldwyla, does not easily leave it again. Besides, the
whole matter is rather involved, I've heard. But these Seldwyla folks
would like nothing better than to receive every little while some money
that they could spend in their foolish way. Of course, that they could
also do with the sum received from a sale. However, we here would not
be so stupid as to bid very high for it, and then at least we should
know whom the land belongs to."
"Just what I think myself, and I said the same thing to the fellow."
They kept silent for a moment, and then Manz added: "A pity it is, all
the same, that this fine soil is thus going to waste every year. I can
scarce bear to see it. This has now been going on for a score of years,
and nobody cares a rap about it, it seems, for here in the village
there is really nobody who has any claim to it, nor does anybody know
what has become of the children of that hornblower, the one who went to
the dogs."
"Hm," muttered Marti, "that is as may be. When I have a look at the
black fiddler, the one who is a vagrant for a spell, and then at other
times plays the fiddle at dances, I could almost swear that he is a
grandson of that hornblower, and who, of course, does not know that he
is entitled to these fields. And what in the world could he do with
them? To go on a month's spree, and then to be as badly off as before.
Besides, what can one say for sure? After all, there is nothing to
prove it."
"Indeed, yes, one might do harm by interfering," rejoined Manz. "As it
is we have to do with our own affairs, and it takes trouble enough now
to keep this hobo from acquiring home rights in our commune. All the
time they want to burden us with that expense. But if his folks once
have joined the stray sheep, let him keep to them and play his fiddle
for a living. How can we really know whether he is the hornblower's
grandson or no? As far as I'm concerned, although I believe I can
recognize the old fellow in his dark face, I say to myself: It is human
to err, and the slightest scrap of a legal document, a bit of a
baptismal record or something, would be to my mind better proof than
ten sinful human faces."
"My opinion exactly," opined Marti, "although he says it is not his
fault that he never was baptized. But are we to lug our baptismal fount
around in the woods? No indeed. That stands immovable in the church,
and on the other hand, to carry around the dead we have the stretcher
which is always hanging from the wall. As it is, we are too many now in
our village and shall soon need another schoolmaster."
With that the colloquy and the midday meal of the two peasants came to
an end, and they now rose and prepared to finish the rest of their
day's task. The two children, on the other hand, having vainly planned
to drive home with their fathers, now pulled their little vehicle into
the shade of the linden saplings close by, and next undertook a
campaign of adventure and discovery into the vast wilderness of the
waste fields. To them this wilderness was interminable, with its
immense weeds, its overgrown flower stalks, and its huge piles of stone
and rock. After wandering, hand in hand, for some time in the very
center of this waste, and after having amused themselves in swinging
their joined hands over the top of the giant thistles, they at last sat
down in the shade of a perfect forest of weeds, and the little girl
began to clothe her doll with the long leaves of some of these plants,
so that the doll soon wore a beautiful habit of green, with fringed
borders, while a solitary poppy blossom she had found was drawn over
dolly's head as a brilliant bonnet, and this she tied fast with a grass
blade for ribbon. Now the little doll looked exactly like a good fairy,
especially after being further ornamented with a necklace and a girdle
of small scarlet berries. Then she sat it down high in the cup on the
stalk of the thistle, and for a minute or so the two jointly admired
the strangely beautified dolly. The boy tired first of this and brought
dolly down with a well-aimed pebble. But in that way dolly's finery got
disordered, and the little girl undressed it quickly and set to anew to
decorate her pet. But just when the doll had been disrobed and only
wore the poppy flower on her head, the boy grasped the doll, and threw
it high into the air. The girl, though, with loud plaints jumped to
catch it, and the boy again caught it first and tossed it again and
again, the little girl all the while vainly attempting to recover it.
Quite a while this wild game lasted, but in the violent hands of the
boy the flying doll now came to grief, and sustained a small fracture
near the knee of her sole remaining limb. And from a small aperture
some sawdust and bran began to escape. Hardly had he perceived that
when he became quiet as a mouse, with open lips endeavoring eagerly to
enlarge the little hole with his nails, in order to investigate the
inside and find out whence the scattered bran came. The poor little
girl, rendered suspicious by the boy's sudden silence, now squeezed up
and noticed with terror his efforts.
"Just look!" shouted the boy and swung the doll's leg right before his
playmate's nose, so that the bran spurted into her face. When she tried
to recover her doll, and pleaded and shrieked, he sprang away with his
prey, and did not desist before the whole leg had been emptied of its
filling and hung, a mere hollow shell, from his hand. Then, to crown
his misdeeds, he actually threw the remains of the doll away, and
behaved in a rude and grossly indifferent manner when the little girl
gathered up her treasure and put it weeping in her apron.
But she took it out after a while and gazed with tears at what was
left. When she fathomed the full extent of the damage, she resumed
weeping, and it was particularly the ruined leg that grieved her;
indeed it hung just as limp and thin as the tail of a salamander. When
she wept aloud for sorrow the sinner evinced evidently some qualms of
conscience, and he stood stock-still, his features suffused with
anxiety and repentance. When she became aware of this state of the
case, she stopped crying and struck him several times with her doll,
and he pretended that she hurt him and exclaimed in a natural manner:
"Outch!" So naturally indeed did he do so that she was satisfied and
now engaged with him in the great sport of further and complete
destruction. Together they bored hole upon hole into the martyred body,
and let the bran out everywhere. This bran they collected with great
pains, deposited it on a big flat stone, and stirred it over and over
to ascertain its mysterious properties.