And now might we have been at rest, and have thanked God on our knees by
day and night. For, besides mercifully saving us out of such great
tribulation, he turned the hearts of my beloved flock, so that they knew
not how to do enough for us. Every day they brought us fish, meat, eggs,
sausages, and whatsoe'er besides they could give me, and which I have
since forgotten. Moreover they, every one of them, came to church the next
Sunday, great and small (except goodwife Kliene of Zempin, who had just
got a boy, and still kept her bed), and I preached a thanks-giving sermon
on Job v. 17, 18, and 19 verses, "Behold, happy is the man whom God
correcteth; therefore despise not thou the chastening of the Almighty: for
he maketh sore, and bindeth up; and his hands make whole. He shall deliver
thee in six troubles, yea, in seven there shall no evil touch thee." And
during my sermon I was ofttimes forced to stop by reason of all the
weeping, and to let them blow their noses. And I might truly have compared
myself to Job, after that the Lord had mercifully released him from his
troubles, had it not been for my child, who prepared much fresh grief for
me.
She had wept when the young lord would not dismount, and now that he came
not again, she grew more uneasy from day to day. She sat and read first
the Bible, then the hymn-book, _item_, the history of Dido in _Virgilius_,
or she climbed up the mountain to fetch flowers (likewise sought after the
vein of amber there, but found it not, which shows the cunning and malice
of Satan). I saw this for a while with many sighs, but spake not a word
(for, dear reader, what could I say?) until it grew worse and worse; and
as she now recited her _carmina_ more than ever both at home and abroad, I
feared lest the people should again repute her a witch, and one day I
followed her up the mountain. Well-a-day, she sat on the pile, which still
stood there, but with her face turned towards the sea, reciting the
_versus_ where Dido mounts the funeral pile in order to stab herself for
love of AEneas:--
At trepida et coeptis immanibus effera Dido
Sanguineam volvens aciem, maculisque trementes
Interfusa genas, et pallida morte futurâ
Interiora domus irrumpit limina et altos
Conscendit furibunda rogos....
When I saw this, and heard how things really stood with her, I was
affrighted beyond measure, and cried, "Mary, my child, what art thou
doing?" She started when she heard my voice, but sat still on the pile,
and answered, as she covered her face with her apron, "Father, I am
burning my heart." I drew near to her and pulled the apron from her face,
saying, "Wilt thou, then, again kill me with grief?" whereupon she covered
her face with her hands, and moaned, "Alas, father, wherefore was I not
burned here? My torment would then have endured but for a moment, but now
it will last as long as I live!" I still did as though I had seen nought,
and said, "Wherefore, dear child, dost thou suffer such torment?"
whereupon she answered, "I have long been ashamed to tell you; for the
young lord, the young lord, my father, do I suffer this torment! He no
longer thinks of me; and albeit he saved my life he scorns me, or he would
surely have dismounted and come in a while; but we are of far too low
degree for him!" Hereupon I indeed began to comfort her and to persuade
her to think no more of the young lord; but the more I comforted her, the
worse she grew. Nevertheless I saw that she did yet in secret cherish a
strong hope by reason of the patent of nobility which he had made me give
him. I would not take this hope from her, seeing that I felt the same
myself, and to comfort her I flattered her hopes, whereupon she was more
quiet for some days, and did not go up the mountain, the which I had
forbidden her. Moreover, she began again to teach little Paasch her
god-daughter, out of whom, by the help of the all-righteous God, Satan was
now altogether departed. But she still pined, and was as white as a sheet;
and when soon after a report came that none in the castle at Mellenthin
knew what was become of the young lord, and that they thought he had been
killed, her grief became so great that I had to send my ploughman on
horseback to Mellenthin to gain tidings of him. And she looked at least
twenty times out of the door and over the paling to watch for his return;
and when she saw him coming she ran out to meet him as far as the corner
by Pagels. But, blessed God! he brought us even worse news than we had
heard before, saying, that the people at the castle had told him that
their young master had ridden away the self-same day whereon he had
rescued the maiden. That he had, indeed, returned after three days to his
father's funeral, but had straightway ridden off again, and that for five
weeks they had heard nothing further of him, and knew not whither he was
gone, but supposed that some wicked ruffians had killed him.
And now my grief was greater than ever it had been before; so patient and
resigned to the will of God as my child had shown herself heretofore, and
no martyr could have met her last hour stronger in God and Christ, so
impatient and despairing was she now. She gave up all hope, and took it
into her head that in these heavy times of war the young lord had been
killed by robbers. Nought availed with her, not even prayer, for when I
called upon God with her, on my knees, she straightway began so grievously
to bewail that the Lord had cast her off, and that she was condemned to
nought save misfortunes in this world; that it pierced through my heart
like a knife, and my thoughts forsook me at her words. She lay also at
night, and "like a crane or a swallow so did she chatter; she did mourn
like a dove; her eyes did fail with looking upward," because no sleep came
upon her eyelids. I called to her from my bed, "Dear child, wilt thou,
then, never cease? sleep, I pray thee!" and she answered and said, "Do you
sleep, dearest father; I cannot sleep until I sleep the sleep of death.
Alas, my father; that I was not burned!" But how could I sleep when she
could not? I indeed said, each morning, that I had slept a while, in order
to content her; but it was not so; but, like David, "all the night made I
my bed to swim; I watered my couch with my tears." Moreover I again fell
into heavy unbelief, so that I neither could nor would pray. Nevertheless
the Lord "did not deal with me after my sins, nor reward me according to
mine iniquities. For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great was
his mercy toward" me, miserable sinner!
For mark what happened on the very next Saturday! Behold, our old
maid-servant came running in at the door, quite out of breath, saying that
a horseman was coming over the Master's Mount, with a tall plume waving on
his hat, and that she believed it was the young lord. When my child, who
sat upon the bench combing her hair, heard this, she gave a shriek of joy,
which would have moved a stone under the earth, and straightway ran out of
the room to look over the paling. She presently came running in again,
fell upon my neck, and cried without ceasing, "The young lord! the young
lord!" whereupon she would have run out to meet him, but I forbade her,
saying she had better first bind up her hair, which she then remembered,
and laughing, weeping, and praying, all at once, she bound up her long
hair. And now the young lord came galloping round the corner, attired in a
green velvet doublet with red silk sleeves, and a grey hat with a heron's
feather therein; _summa_, gaily dressed as beseems a wooer. And when we
now ran out at the door, he called aloud to my child in the Latin, from
afar off, "_Quomodo stat dulcissima virgo?_" Whereupon she gave answer,
saying, "_Bene te aspecto._" He then sprang smiling off his horse, and
gave it into the charge of my ploughman, who meanwhile had come up
together with the maid; but he was affrighted when he saw my child so
pale, and taking her hand spake in the vulgar tongue, "My God! what is it
ails you, sweet maid? you look more pale than when about to go to the
stake." Whereupon she answered, "I have been at the stake daily since you
left us, good my lord, without coming into our house, or so much as
sending us tidings of whither you were gone."
This pleased him well, and he said, "Let us first of all go into the
chamber, and you shall hear all." And when he had wiped the sweat from
his brow, and sat down on the bench beside my child, he spake as
follows:--That he had straightway promised her that he would clear her
honour before the whole world, and the self-same day whereon he left us he
made the worshipful court draw up an authentic record of all that had
taken place, more especially the confession of the impudent constable,
_item_, that of my ploughboy, Claus Neels; wherewith he rode throughout
the same night, as he had promised, to Anclam, and next day to Stettin, to
our gracious sovereign Duke Bogislaw: who marvelled greatly when he heard
of the wickedness of his Sheriff, and of that which he had done to my
child: moreover, he asked whether she were the pastor's daughter who once
upon a time had found the signet-ring of his Princely Highness Philippus
Julius of most Christian memory in the castle garden at Wolgast? and as he
did not know thereof, the Duke asked, whether she knew Latin? And he, the
young lord, answered yes, that she knew the Latin better than he did
himself. His Princely Highness said, "Then, indeed, it must be the same,"
and straightway he put on his spectacles, and read the _acta_ himself.
Hereupon, and after his Princely Highness had read the record of the
worshipful court, shaking his head the while, the young lord humbly
besought his Princely Highness to give him an _amende honorable_ for my
child, _item, literas commendatitias_ for himself to our most gracious
Emperor at Vienna, to beg for a renewal of my patent of nobility, seeing
that he was determined to marry none other maiden than my daughter so long
as he lived.
When my child heard this, she gave a cry of joy, and fell back in a swound
with her head against the wall. But the young lord caught her in his arms,
and gave her three kisses (which I could not then deny him, seeing, as I
did with joy, how matters went), and when she came to herself again, he
asked her, whether she would not have him, seeing that she had given a cry
at his words? Whereupon she said, "Whether I will not have you, my lord!
Alas! I love you as dearly as my God and my Saviour! You first saved my
life, and now you have snatched my heart from the stake, whereon, without
you, it would have burned all the days of my life!" Hereupon I wept for
joy, when he drew her into his lap, and she clasped his neck with her
little hands.
They thus sat and toyed a while, till the young lord again perceived me,
and said, "What say you thereto; I trust it is also your will, reverend
Abraham?" Now, dear reader, what could I say, save my hearty good-will?
seeing that I wept for very joy, as did my child, and I answered, how
should it not be my will, seeing that it was the will of God? But whether
the worthy, good young lord had likewise considered that he would stain
his noble name if he took to wife my child, who had been habit and repute
a witch, and had been well-nigh bound to the stake?
Hereupon he said, By no means; for that he had long since prevented this,
and he proceeded to tell us how he had done it, namely, his Princely
Highness had promised him to make ready all the _scripta_ which he
required, within four days, when he hoped to be back from his father's
burial. He therefore rode straightway back to Mellenthin, and after paying
the last honour to my lord his father, he presently set forth on his way
again, and found that his Princely Highness had kept his word meanwhile.
With these _scripta_ he rode to Vienna, and albeit he met with many pains,
troubles, and dangers by the way (which he would relate to us at some
other time), he nevertheless reached the city safely. There he by chance
met with a Jesuit with whom he had once upon a time had his _locamentum_
for a few days at Prague, while he was yet a _studiosus_, and this man,
having heard his business, bade him be of good cheer, seeing that his
Imperial Majesty stood sorely in need of money in these hard times of war,
and that he, the Jesuit, would manage it all for him. This he really did,
and his Imperial Majesty not only renewed my patent of nobility, but
likewise confirmed the _amende honorable_ to my child granted by his
Princely Highness the Duke, so that he might now maintain the honour of
his betrothed bride against all the world, as also hereafter that of his
wife.
Hereupon he drew forth the _acta_ from his bosom, and put them into my
hand, saying, "And now, reverend Abraham, you must also do me a pleasure,
to wit, to-morrow morning, when I hope to go with my betrothed bride to
the Lord's table, you must publish the banns between me and your daughter,
and on the day after you must marry us. Do not say nay thereto, for my
pastor, the reverend Philippus, says that this is no uncommon custom among
the nobles in Pomerania, and I have already given notice of the wedding
for Monday at mine own castle, whither we will then go, and where I
purpose to bed my bride." I should have found much to say against this
request, more especially that in honour of the Holy Trinity he should
suffer himself to be called three times in church according to custom, and
that he should delay a while the espousals; but when I perceived that my
child would gladly have the marriage held right soon, for she sighed and
grew red as scarlet, I had not the heart to refuse them, but promised all
they asked. Whereupon I exhorted them both to prayer, and when I had laid
my hands upon their heads, I thanked the Lord more deeply than I had ever
yet thanked him, so that at last I could no longer speak for tears, seeing
that they drowned my voice.
Meanwhile the young lord his coach had driven up to the door, filled with
chests and coffers: and he said, "Now, sweet maid, you shall see what I
have brought you," and he bade them bring all the things into the room.
Dear reader, what fine things were there, such as I had never seen in all
my life! All that women can use was there, especially of clothes, to wit,
bodices, plaited gowns, long robes, some of them bordered with fur, veils,
aprons, _item_, the bridal shift with gold fringes, whereon the merry lord
had laid some six or seven bunches of myrtle to make herself a wreath
withal. _Item_, there was no end to the rings, neck-chains, eardrops,
etc., the which I have in part forgotten. Neither did the young lord leave
me without a gift, seeing he had brought me a new surplice (the enemy had
robbed me of my old one), also doublets, hosen, and shoes, _summa_,
whatsoever appertains to a man's attire; wherefore I secretly besought the
Lord not to punish us again in his sore displeasure for such pomps and
vanities. When my child beheld all these things she was grieved that she
could bestow upon him nought save her heart alone, and the chain of the
Swedish king, the which she hung round his neck, and begged him, weeping
the while, to take it as a bridal gift. This he at length promised to do,
and likewise to carry it with him into the grave: but that my child must
first wear it at her wedding, as well as the blue silken gown, for that
this and no other should be her bridal dress, and this he made her promise
to do.
And now a merry chance befell with the old maid, the which I will here
note. For when the faithful old soul had heard what had taken place, she
was beside herself for joy, danced and clapped her hands, and at last said
to my child, "Now to be sure you will not weep when the young lord is to
lie in your bed," whereat my child blushed scarlet for shame, and ran out
of the room; and when the young lord would know what she meant therewith,
she told him that he had already once slept in my child her bed when he
came from Gutzkow with me, whereupon he bantered her all the evening after
that she was come back again. Moreover, he promised the maid that as she
had once made my child her bed for him, she should make it again, and that
on the day after to-morrow she and the ploughman too should go with us to
Mellenthin, so that masters and servants should all rejoice together after
such great distress.
And seeing that the dear young lord would stop the night under my roof, I
made him lie in the small closet together with me (for I could not know
what might happen). He soon slept like a top, but no sleep came into my
eyes, for very joy, and I prayed the livelong blessed night, or thought
over my sermon. Only near morning I dozed a little; and when I rose the
young lord already sat in the next room with my child, who wore the black
silken gown which he had brought her, and, strange to say, she looked
fresher than even when the Swedish king came, so that I never in all my
life saw her look fresher or fairer. _Item_, the young lord wore his black
doublet, and picked out for her the best bits of myrtle for the wreath she
was twisting. But when she saw me, she straightway laid the wreath beside
her on the bench, folded her little hands, and said the morning prayer, as
she was ever wont to do, which humility pleased the young lord right well,
and he begged her that in future she would ever do the like with him, the
which she promised.
Soon after we went to the blessed church to confession, and all the folk
stood gaping open-mouthed because the young lord led my child on his arm.
But they wondered far more when, after the sermon, I first read to them in
the vulgar tongue the _amende honorable_ to my child from his Princely
Highness, together with the confirmation of the same by his Imperial
Majesty, and after that my patent of nobility; and, lastly, began to
publish the banns between my child and the young lord. Dear reader, there
arose a murmur throughout the church like the buzzing of a swarm of bees.
(N.B. These _scripta_ were burnt in the fire which broke out in the castle
a year ago, as I shall hereafter relate, wherefore I cannot insert them
here _in origne_.)
Hereupon my dear children went together with much people to the Lord's
table, and after church nearly all the folks crowded round them and wished
them joy. _Item_, old Paasch came to our house again that afternoon, and
once more besought my daughter's forgiveness because that he had
unwittingly offended her; that he would gladly give her a marriage-gift,
but that he now had nothing at all; howbeit that his wife should set one
of her hens in the spring, and he would take the chickens to her at
Mellenthin himself. This made us all to laugh, more especially the young
lord, who at last said: "As thou wilt bring me a marriage-gift, thou must
also be asked to the wedding, wherefore thou mayest come to-morrow with
the rest."
[Illustration: The Bridal Gifts]
Whereupon my child said: "And your little Mary, my god-child, shall come
too, and be my bridemaiden, if my lord allows it." Whereupon she began to
tell the young lord all that that had befallen the child by the malice of
Satan, and how they laid it to her charge until such time as the
all-righteous God brought her innocence to light; and she begged that
since her dear lord had commanded her to wear the same garments at her
wedding which she had worn to salute the Swedish king, and afterwards to
go to the stake, he would likewise suffer her to take for her bridemaiden
her little god-child, as _indicium secundum_ of her sorrows.
And when he had promised her this, she told old Paasch to send hither his
child to her, that she might fit a new gown upon her which she had cut out
for her a week ago, and which the maid would finish sewing this very day.
This so went to the heart of the good old fellow that he began to weep
aloud, and at last said, she should not do all this for nothing, for
instead of the one hen his wife should set three for her in the spring.
When he was gone, and the young lord did nought save talk with his
betrothed bride, both in the vulgar and in the Latin tongue, I did
better--namely, went up the mountain to pray, wherein, moreover, I
followed my child's example, and clomb up upon the pile, there in
loneliness to offer up my whole heart to the Lord as an offering of
thanksgiving, seeing that with this sacrifice he is well pleased, as
in Ps. li. 19, "The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit; a broken and
contrite heart, O God, shalt thou not despise."
That night the young lord again lay in my room, but next morning, when the
sun had scarce risen--
* * * * *
Here end these interesting communications, which I do not intend to dilute
with any additions of my own. My readers, more especially those of the
fair sex, can picture to themselves at pleasure the future happiness of
this excellent pair.
All further historical traces of their existence, as well as that of the
pastor, have disappeared, and nothing remains but a tablet fixed in the
wall of the church at Mellenthin, on which the incomparable lord, and his
yet more incomparable wife, are represented. On his faithful breast still
hangs "the golden chain, with the effigy of the Swedish King." They both
seem to have died within a short time of each other, and to have been
buried in the same coffin. For in the vault under the church there is
still a large double coffin, in which, according to tradition, lies a
chain of gold of incalculable value. Some twenty years ago, the owner of
Mellenthin, whose unequalled extravagance had reduced him to the verge of
beggary, attempted to open the coffin in order to take out this precious
relic, but he was not able. It appeared as if some powerful spell held it
firmly together; and it has remained unopened down to the present time.
May it remain so until the last awful day, and may the impious hand of
avarice or curiosity never desecrate these holy ashes of holy beings!