"You may go," said her Grace; "but what do you mean to do? I tell you, advice is thrown away on her."
"Then I will threaten her with the Catechism of Doctor Gerschovius, which she must repeat on Sunday, for I know that she is greatly afraid of that and the clergyman."
"And you think you will frighten her into giving up running after the young men?"
"Oh yes, if I tell her that she will be publicly reprimanded unless she can say it perfectly."
So her Grace allowed her to depart, but with something of a weak faith.
Although Sidonia had absented herself from the spinning, on the pretext of learning the catechism quietly in her own room, yet, when Clara entered, no one was there except the maid, who sat upon the floor at her work. She knew nothing about the young lady; but as she heard a great deal of laughter and merriment in the court beneath, it was likely Sidonia was not far off. On stepping to the window, Clara indeed beheld Sidonia.
In the middle of the court was a large horse-pond built round with stones, to which the water was conducted by metal pipes communicating with the river Peene. In the middle of the pond was a small island, upon which a bear was kept chained. A plank was now thrown across the pond to the island; upon this Sidonia was standing feeding the bear with bread, which Appelmann, who stood beside her, first dipped into a can of syrup, and several of the young squires stood round them laughing and jesting.
The idle young pages were wont to take great delight in shooting at the bear with blunt arrows, and when it growled and snarled, then they would calm it again by throwing over bits of bread steeped in honey or syrup. So Sidonia, waiting to see the fun, had got upon the plank ready to give the bread just as the bear had got to the highest pitch of irritation, when he would suddenly change his growling into another sort of speech after his fashion. All this amused Sidonia mightily, and she laughed and clapped her hands with delight.
When the modest Clara beheld all this, and how Sidonia danced up and down on the plank, while the water splashed over her robe, she called to her—"Dear Lady Sidonia, come hither: I have somewhat to tell thee." But she answered tartly—"Dear Lady Clara, keep it then: I am too young to be told everything." And she danced up and down on the plank as before.
After many vain entreaties, Clara had at length to descend and seize the wild bird by the wing—I mean thereby the arm—and carry her off to the castle. The young men would have followed, but they were engaged to attend his Highness on a fishing excursion that afternoon, and were obliged to go and see after their nets and tackle. So the two maidens could walk up and down the corridor undisturbed; and Clara asked if she had yet learned the catechism.
Illa.—"No; I have no wish to learn it."
Hæc.—"But if the priest has to reprimand you publicly from the pulpit?"
Illa.—"I counsel him not to do it."
Hæc.—"Why, what would you do to him?"
Illa.—"He will find that out."
Hæc.—"Dear Sidonia, I wish you well; and therefore let me tell you that not only the priest, but our gracious lady, and all the noble maidens of the court, are sad and displeased that you should make so free with the young men, and entice them to follow you, as I have seen but too often myself. Do it not, dear Sidonia I mean well by you;—do it not. It will injure your reputation."
Illa.—"Ha! you are jealous now, you little pious housesparrow, that the young men do not run after you too. How can I help it?"
Hæc.—"Every maiden can help it; were she as beautiful as could be seen, she can help it. Leave off, Sidonia, or evil will come of it, particularly as her Grace has heard that you are seeking to entice our young lord the Prince. See, I tell you the pure truth, that it may turn you from your light courses. Tell me, what can you mean by it?—for when noble youths demand your hand in marriage, you reject them, and say you never mean to marry. Can you think that our gracious Prince, a son of Pomerania, will make thee his duchess—thou who art only a common nobleman's daughter?"
Illa.—"A common nobleman's daughter!—that is good from the peasant-girl. You are common enough and low enough, I warrant; but my blood is as old as that of the Dukes of Pomerania, and besides, I am a castle and land dowered maiden. But who are you? who are you? Your forefathers were hunted out of Mecklenburg, and only got footing here in Pomerania out of charity."
Hæc.—"Do not be angry, dear lady—you say true; yet I must add that my forebears were once Counts in Mecklenburg, and from their loyalty to the Dukes of Pomerania were given possessions here in Daber, where they have been lords of castles and lands for two hundred and fifty years. Yet I will confess that your race is nobler than mine; but, dear child, I make no boast of my ancestry, nor is it fitting for either of us to do so. The right royal Prince, who is given as an example and model to us all—who is Lord, not over castle and land, but of the heavens and the earth—the Saviour, Jesus Christ—He took no account of His arms or His ancestry, though the whole starry universe was His banner. He was as humble to the little child as to the learned doctors in the temple—to the chiefs among the people, as to the trembling sinner and the blind beggar Bartimæus. Let us take, then, this Prince for our example, and mind our life long what He says—'Come unto Me, and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly of heart.' Will you not learn of Him, dear lady? I will, if God give me grace."
And she extended her hand to Sidonia, who dashed it away, crying—"Stuff! nonsense! you have learned all this twaddle from the priest, who, I know, is nephew to the shoe-maker in Daber, and therefore hates any one who is above him in rank."
Clara was about to reply mildly; but they happened now to be standing close to the public flight of steps, and a peasant-girl ran up when she saw them, and flung herself at Clara's feet, entreating the young lady to save her, for she had run away from Daber, where they were going to burn her as a witch. The pious Clara recoiled in horror, and desiring her to rise, said—"Art thou Anne Wolde, some time keeper of the swine to my father? How fares it with my dearest father and my mother?"
They were well when she ran away, but she had been wandering now for fourteen days on the road, living upon roots and wild berries, or what the herds gave her out of their knapsacks for charity.
Hæc.—"What crime wast thou suspected of, girl, to be condemned to so terrible a death?"
Illa.—"She had a lover named Albert, who followed her everywhere, but as she would not listen to him he hated her, and pretended that she had given him a love-drink."
Here Sidonia laughed aloud, and asked if she knew how to brew the love-drink?
Illa.—"Yes; she learned from her elder sister how to make it, but had never tried it with any one, and was perfectly innocent of all they charged her with."
Here Clara shook her head, and wished to get rid of the witch-girl; for she thought, truly if Sidonia learns the brewing secret, she will poison and destroy the whole castleful, and we shall have the devil bodily with us in earnest. So she pushed away the girl, who still clung to her, weeping and lamenting. Hereupon Sidonia grew quite grave and pious all of a sudden, and said—
"See the hypocrite she is! She first sets before me the example of Christ, and then treats this poor sinner with nothing but cross thorns! Has not Christ said, 'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy'? But only see how this bigot can have Christ on her tongue, but not in her heart!"
The pious Clara grew quite ashamed at such talk, and raising up the wretch who had again fallen on her knees, said—
"Well, thou mayest remain; so get thee to my maid, and she will give thee food. I shall also write to my father for thy pardon, and meanwhile ask leave from her Grace to allow thee to remain here until it arrives; but if thou art guilty, I cannot promise thee my protection any longer, and thou wilt be burned here, in place of at Daber."
So