_How Sidonia meets Claude Uckermann again, and solicits him to
wed her--Item, what he answered, and how my gracious Lord of
Stettin received her._
Sidonia, next morning, got a good soft seat in the waggon, upon
the sack of a cloth merchant; he was cousin to the burgomaster,
and promised to take her with him, out of friendship for him. All
the men in the waggon were armed with spears and muskets, for fear
of the robbers, who were growing more daring every day.
So they proceeded; but had not got far from the town when a
horseman galloped furiously after them, and called out that he
would accompany them; and this was Claude Uckermann, of whom I
have spoken so much in my former book. He, too, was going to
Stettin. Now when Sidonia saw him, her eyes glistened like a cat's
when she sees a mouse, and she rejoiced at the prospect of such
good company, for since the wedding of her sister, never had this
handsome youth come across her, though she was constantly looking
out for him. So as he rode up by the waggon, she greeted him, and
prayed him to alight and come and sit by her upon the sack, that
they might talk together of dear old times.
She imagined, no doubt, that he knew nothing of all that had
happened; but her disgrace was as public at Stargard as if it had
been pealed from the great bell of St. Mary's. He therefore knew
her whole story, and answered, that sitting by her was
disagreeable to him now; and he rode on. This was plain enough,
one would think; but Sidonia still held by her delusion; for as
they reached the first inn, and stopped to feed the horses, she
saw him stepping aside to avoid her, and seating himself at some
distance on a bank. So she put on her flattering face, and
advanced to him, saying, "Would not the dear young knight make up
with her?--what ailed him?--it was impossible he could resent her
silly fun at her sister's wedding. Oh! if he had come again and
asked her seriously to be his wife, in place of there in the
middle of the dancing, as if he had been only jesting, she would
never have had another husband, for from that till now, never had
so handsome a knight met her eyes; but she was still free."
Hereupon the young man (as he told me himself) made answer--"Yes,
she had rightly judged, he was only jesting, and taking his
pastime with her, as they sat there upon the carpet, for he held
in unspeakable aversion and disgust a cup from which every one
sipped."
Still Sidonia would not comprehend him, and began to talk about
Wolgast. But he looked down straight before him in the grass, and
never spake a word, but turned on his heel, and entered the inn,
to see after his horse. So he got rid of her at last.
As the waggon set off again, she began to sing so merrily and
loudly, that all the wood rang with it. And the young knight was
not so stupid but that he truly discerned her meaning, which was
to show him that she cared little for his words, since she could
go away in such high spirits.
_Summa_, when they reached the inn at Stettin, Sidonia got
all her baggage carried in from the waggon, and there dressed
herself with all her finery: silken robes, golden hairnet, and
golden chains, rings, and jewels, that all the people saluted her
when she came forth, and went to the castle to ask for his
Highness the Duke. He was in his workshop, and had just finished
turning a spinning-wheel; he laughed aloud when she entered, ran
to her, embraced her, and cried, "What! my treasure!--where hast
thou been so long, my sugar-morsel? How I laughed when Master
Hansen, whom my old, silly, sour cousin of Wolgast sent with thee,
came in lately into my workshop, and told me he had brought thee
hither in a ducal coach! I ran directly to the courtyard; but when
the knave opened the door, my little thrush had flown. Where hast
thou been so long, my sugar-morsel?"
As his Grace put all these questions, he continued kissing her, so
that his long white beard got entangled in her golden chains; and
as she pushed him away, a bunch of hair remained sticking to her
brooch, so that he screamed for pain, and put his hand to his
chin. At this, in rushed the court marshal and the treasurer (who
were writing in the next chamber) as white as corpses, and asked,
"Who is murdering his Grace?" but his Grace held up his hand over
his bleeding mouth, and winked to them to go away. So when they
saw that it was only a maiden combat, they went their way
laughing.
Hereupon speaks his Grace--"See now, treasure, what thou hast
done! Thou canst be so kind to a groom, yet thy own gracious
Prince will treat so harshly!"
But Sidonia began to weep bitterly. "What did he think of her? The
whole story was an invention by his old sour cousin of Wolgast to
ruin her because she would not learn her catechism (and then she
told the same tale as to her father); but would not his Grace take
pity on a poor forsaken maiden, seeing that Prince Ernest could
not deny he had promised to make her his bride, and wed her
privately at Crummyn, on the very next night to that on which her
Grace had so shamefully outraged her?"
"My sweet treasure!" answered the Duke, "the young Prince was only
making a fool of you; therefore be content that things are no
worse. For even if he had wedded you privately, it would have been
all in vain, seeing that neither the princely widow nor the
Elector of Brandenburg, his godfather, nor any of the princes of
the holy Roman Empire, nor lastly, the Pomeranian States, would
ever have permitted so unequal a marriage. Therefore, what the
priest joined in Crummyn would have been put asunder next day by
the tribunals. My poor nephew is a silly enthusiast not to have
perceived this all along, before he put such absurdities in your
head. That he talked gallantry to you was very natural, and I
wished him all success; but that he should ever have talked of
marriage shows him to be even sillier than I expected from his
years."
Here Sidonia's tears burst forth anew. "Who would care for her now
that her father was dead, and had left her penniless? All because
he believed that old hypocrite of Wolgast more than his own
daughter. Alas! alas! she was a poor orphan now! and all her
possessions would be torn from her by her hard-hearted, avaricious
brother. Yet surely his Grace might at least take pity on her
innocence."
His Grace wondered much when he heard of Otto's death, for the
letters brought by the market waggon from the honourable council,
acquainting him with the matter, had not yet arrived, and he
scratched behind his ear, and said, "It was an evil deed of that
proud devil her father, to claim the Jena dues. He had got his
answer at Wolgast, and ought to have left the dues alone. What
right had he to break the peace of the land, to gratify his lust
and greed? It was well that he was dead; but as concerning his
testament, that must not be interfered with, he had no power over
the property of individuals. Each one might leave his goods as
best pleased him; yet he would make his treasurer write a letter
in her favour to her brother Otto: that was all that he could do."
This threw Sidonia into despair; she fell at his feet, and told
him, that let what would become of her, she would never go a step
to Zachow, and her harsh brother would never give her one
groschen, unless he were forced to it. His Grace ought to remember
that it was by his advice she had gone to Wolgast, where all her
misery had commenced; for by the traitorous conduct of the widow,
there she had been robbed, not only of her good name, but also of
her fortune. So his Grace comforted her, and said that as long as
he lived she would want for nothing. He had a pretty house behind
St. Mary's, and six young maidens lived there, who had nothing to
do but spin and embroider, or comb out the beautiful herons'
feathers as the birds moulted; for he had a large stock of herons
close to the house; and there was a darling little chamber there,
which she could have immediately for herself. As to clothes, they
might all get the handsomest they pleased, and their meals were
supplied from the ducal kitchen.
As his Grace ended, and lifted up Sidonia and kissed her, she wept
and sighed more than ever. "Could he think this of her? No; she
would never enter the house which was the talk of all Pomerania.
If she consented, then, indeed, would the world believe all the
falsehoods that were told of her--of her, who was as innocent as a
child!" Hereupon his Grace answered stiff and stern (yet this was
not his wont, for he was a right tender master), "Then go your
ways. Into that house or nowhere else." (Alas! let every maiden
take warning, by this example, to guard against the first false
step. Amen, chaste Jesus! Amen.)
That evening Sidonia took up her abode in the house. But that same
evening there was a great _scandalum,_ and tearing of each
other's hair among the girls. For one of them, named Trina
Wehlers, was a baker's daughter from Stramehl, and on the occasion
of Clara's wedding she had headed a procession of young peasants
to join the bridal party, but Sidonia had haughtily pushed her
back, and forbid them to approach. This Trina was a fine rosy
wench, and my Lord Duke took a fancy to her then, so that she
looked with great jealousy on any one that threatened to rob her
of his favour. Now when Sidonia entered the house and saw the
baker's daughter, she commenced again to play the part of the
great lady, but the other only laughed, and mockingly asked her,
"Where was the princely spouse, Duke Ernest of Wolgast? Would his
Highness come to meet her there?"
Then Sidonia raged from shame and despair, that this peasant girl
should dare to insult her, and she ran weeping to her chamber; but
when supper was served, the _scandalum_ broke out in earnest.
For Sidonia had now grown a little comforted, and as there were
many dainty dishes from the Duke's table sent to them, she began
to enjoy herself somewhat, when all of a sudden the baker's
daughter gave her a smart blow over the fingers with a fork.
Sidonia instantly seized her by the hair; and now there was such
an uproar of blows, screams, and tongues, that my gracious lord,
the Duke, was sent for. Whereupon he scolded the baker's daughter
right seriously for her insolence, and told her that as Sidonia
was the only noble maiden amongst them, she was to bear rule. And
if the others did not obey her humbly, as befitted her rank, they
should all be whipped. His Grace wore a patch of black plaister on
his chin, and attempted to kiss Sidonia again, but she pushed him
away, saying that he must have told all that happened at Wolgast
to these girls, otherwise how could the baker's daughter have
mocked her about it.
Whereupon my gracious lord consoled her, and said that if she were
quiet and well-behaved, he would take her with him to the Diet at
Wollin, for all the young dukes of Pomerania were to attend it,
and Prince Ernest amongst the number, seeing that he had summoned
them all there, in order to give up the government of the land
into their hands, as he was too old now himself to be tormented
with state affairs.
When Sidonia heard this, hope sprang up within her heart, and she
resolved to bear her destiny calmly.