Whereupon the father replied--

"Oh, thou shameless child, who, like the prodigal in Scripture, hast destroyed thy substance with harlots and riotous living, in place of humbleness and repentance, dost thou impudently tell of this poor young maiden's shame before all the world? Oh, son! oh, son! even the blind heathen said, '_Ego illum periisse puto, cui quidem periit pudor_' [Footnote: Plautus in Bacchid.]--which means, 'I esteem him dead in whom shame is dead.' Therefore is thy sin doubled, being a Christian, for thou hast boasted of thy shame before the people here, and held up the young maiden to their contempt, besides having beaten her so on board the vessel that many heard her screams, as if she were only a common wench, and not a castle and land dowered maiden."

To which Appelmann answered, that she had called him a common groom and a base-born burgher churl. But his father commanded him to be silent, and bid his men first bind the knight's hands behind his back, and then those of his son, and so carry them both to prison; but to let the maiden go free.

When the knight heard that he was to be bound, his pride revolted, and he offered any ransom, or to give any compensation that could be demanded for the injury he had done them. Every one knew his wealth, and that he had power to keep his word to the uttermost.

But the burgomaster made answer, "Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth; how say you, sir knight--speak the truth, if you had taken me prisoner, as I have taken you, would you have bound my hands or not?" To which the knight replied, "Well, Jacob, I will not speak a falsehood, for I feel that my end is near;--I would have bound your hands."

Hereupon the brave burgomaster answered, "I know it well; however, as you have answered me honestly, I will spare you. Burghers, do not bind his hands, neither those of my son. Ye have enough to suffer yet before ye, and G.o.d give you both grace to repent. And now to the town! The crew shall declare to-morrow morn, before the honourable council, what they have lost by the knight's means; and he shall make it all good again to them."

So all the people returned with great uproar and rejoicing back to the town, and the bell from St. Mary's and St. John's rung forth merry peals, and all the people of the town ran forth to meet them; but when they saw the knight a prisoner, and his empty scabbard hanging by his side, they clapped their hands and huzzaed, shouting, "So fell the Stargardians upon Stramehl." Thus with merry laughter, and jests, and mockings, they carried him up the street to the tower called the Red Sea, and there locked him up, well guarded.

Here again he prayed the burgomaster to accept a ransom, but in vain. Whereupon he at last solicited pen, paper, and ink, and a light, that he might indite a letter to his Grace, Duke Barnim; and this was granted to him.

As for his unworthy son, the burgomaster had him carried to his own house, and there placed him in a room, with three stout burghers as a guard over him. And Sidonia was placed by herself in another little chamber.

CHAPTER III.

_Of Otto Bark's dreadful suicide--Item, how Sidonia and Johann Appelmann were brought before the burgomaster._

During that night there was a strong suspicion upon every one's mind that something terrible was going to happen; for a great storm arose at midnight, and raged fearfully round the Red Sea tower, so that it seemed to rock, and when the night-watch went round to examine it, behold three toads crept out, and set themselves upright upon the parapet like little manikins, as the hares sometimes make themselves into manikins.

What all this denoted was discovered next morning, for when the jailer entered Otto's cell in the tower, he saw him lying on the floor in a pool of blood, with his own dagger sticking in his heart. On the table stood the lamp which he had asked for, still burning feebly, and near it a great many written papers.

The man instantly ran for the burgomaster, who followed him with all speed to the tower. They felt the corpse, but it was already quite cold. So then a messenger was despatched for the chirurgeon, to hold a _visum repertum_ over him.

Meantime they examined the papers, and found first my gracious Lady of Wolgast's letter to the unfortunate father--the same which had made him tremble so the day before--and therein was related all the shameful circ.u.mstances concerning Sidonia, just as Ulrich had stated them in the letter to the burgomaster. Then they came upon his last will and testament; but where the seal ought to have been, there lay a large drop of blood, with this memorandum beneath it: "This is my heart's first blood which I have affixed here, in place of a seal, and may he who slights it be accursed for evermore, even as my daughter Sidonia."

In this testament he had completely disinherited his daughter Sidonia, and made his son Otto sole inheritor of all his property, castles, and lands (for his daughter Clara was already dead, and had left no children). Nothing should his daughter Sidonia have but two farm-houses in Zachow, [Footnote: A small town near Stramehl, a mile and a half from Regenwalde.] just to keep her from beggary, and to save the ancient, ill.u.s.trious name of their house from falling into further contempt. Yet should his son think proper to give her further _alimentum_, he was at liberty so to do. Lastly, for the second and third time, he cursed his daughter, to whom he owed all his misery, from the affair with the apprentice to that concerning the Jena dues, up to this his most miserable and wretched death. _Item_, the burgomaster picked up another letter, which was addressed to himself, and wherein the knight prayed, first, that his body might not be drawn by the executioner to burial, as was the custom with suicides, but conveyed honourably to Stramehl, and there deposited in the vault of his family; secondly, that his daughter Sidonia might be sent to Zachow, there to learn how to live humbly as a peasant maid--for that she might look to being a d.u.c.h.ess of Pomerania, only when she could keep her evil desires still for even a couple of days.

Then he cursed her so that it was pitiable to read; and proved that, if he had been a more G.o.d-fearing father, she might have been a different daughter; for as St. Paul says (Galatians vi.), "What a man soweth, that shall he also reap." The letter further said, that, for the good deed done to his corpse, the burgomaster should take all the gold found upon his person, consisting of eighty good rose-n.o.bles, and indemnify himself therewith for the loss of his spices that day in Stramehl when they were scattered before the Jews. He lastly desired his last will and testament to be conveyed to his son, along with his corpse; and further, his son was to send compensation to the crew for the cask of wine and whatever other losses they had sustained, according to his knightly word which he had pledged to them.

_Summa_, when the chirurgeon arrived and the body was examined, there was found upon the unfortunate knight a purse, embroidered with pearls and diamonds, containing eighty rose-n.o.bles, which the burgomaster in no wise disdained to receive, and then laid the whole matter before the honourable council, with the pet.i.tion of Otto concerning the corpse. The honourable council fully justified the burgomaster for all he had done, and gave their opinion, that as the good town had no jurisdiction over the knight, so they could have none over his body, and therefore let it be removed with all honour to Stramehl, particularly as he had in all things made amends for the wrong he had done them. As regarded Sidonia, two porters should be sent to convey her to Zachow.

Meantime Sidonia had heard of her father's horrible death, and lay on the ground nearly insensible from grief. Just then the burgomaster returned from the council-hall, and commanded that she and his profligate son should be brought before him. When they arrived, he asked how it happened that they were both found in the vessel, for Ulrich, the Grand Chamberlain, had written to inform him that Sidonia had been sent away in a coach to Stettin, with the executioner on the box.

Here Sidonia sobbed so violently that no word could she utter; therefore the son replied that such had been done, but that he had been given a horse from the ducal stables, and had followed the coach; and when they stopped at Uckermund for the night, he had secretly got speech with Sidonia, and advised her to try and remove the planks from the bottom of the carriage and escape to him, for that he would be quite close at hand. And he did what he could that night to loosen the boards himself. So in the morning Sidonia got them up easily, and first dropped her baggage out through the hole, which he picked up; and then, as they came to a soft, sandy tract where the coach had to go very slowly, she let herself also down through it, and sinking in the deep sand, let the coach go over her without any hurt. Then he came to her, and they fled to the next town, where he bought a waggon from some peasants, for her and her luggage to proceed into Stargard, for she was ashamed to appear before Duke Barnim, and wished to get on from Stargard to Stramehl; but when they reached Damm, they heard such wild tales of the robbers and partisans who infested the roads, that Sidonia grew alarmed, and made him go by water for safety. So he left the horse and waggon at the inn, and took ship with the merchants who were going to Stargard. These were their adventures. The rest his father knew as well as himself.

The burgomaster then asked Sidonia had he spoken truth. So she dried her eyes, and nodded her head for "Yes."

Then he admonished her gravely, for that she, a n.o.ble maiden, could have dishonoured herself with a mere burgher's son, like his Johann, in whom even he, his own father, must say, there was nothing to tempt any girl. And now she knew the truth of those words of St. James: "l.u.s.t, when it hath conceived, bringeth forth sin; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death."

Her sin had, indeed, brought forth her father's death;--would that he could say only his _temporal_ death. This her father had himself a.s.serted in his testament, which he held now in his hands, and for this cause had left all his goods, lands, and castles to her brother Otto--only giving her two farm-houses in Zachow to save her from the beggar's staff, and their n.o.ble name from falling into yet greater contempt--and, in addition, he had cursed her with terrible curses; but these might be yet turned away, if she would incline her heart to G.o.d, and lead a pious, honest life for the rest of her days. And much more the worthy man preached to her; but she interrupted him, having found her tongue at last, and exclaimed in wrath, "What! has the good-for-nothing old churl written this? Let me see it; it cannot be true."

So the burgomaster reached her the paper, and, as she read, her colour changed, and at last she shrieked aloud and fell down before the burgomaster, clasping his knees, and praying by the Jesu cross not to send such a testament to her brother, for that he was still harder than her father, because he was by nature avaricious, and would grudge her even salt with her bread. Let him remember that his son had promised her marriage, and would he destroy his own children?

Then Jacob Appelmann turned to his profligate son, and asked, "Does she speak the truth? Have you promised her marriage?"

But the shameless knave answered, "True, I so promised her, when we were at Uckermund; but now that she has no money, I wash my hands of her."

Such villainy made the old man flame with indignation. "He would make him know that he must stand by his word--he would force him to it, if he could only think it would be for the advantage of this wretched girl. But he would admonish her to give him up; did she not see that he was shameless, cruel, and selfish? and how could she ever hope to turn to G.o.d and lead a new life with such an infamous partner? _Item_, his son should be made to work, and to feel poverty, so that his evil desires might be stifled; and as for her, let her go in G.o.d's name to Zachow, and there in solitude repent her sins, and strive to win the favour of G.o.d."

But that was no water for her mill; so she continued to lament, and weep, and pray the burgomaster not to send the will to her harsh brother; upon which he answered mildly, "Wert thou to lie at my feet till morning, it would not help thee: the testament goes this day to Stramehl; but I will do this for thee. Thy father left me some rose-n.o.bles, in a purse which he carried about with him, as a compensation for my spices, which he strewed before the Jews in Stramehl, of which deed thou, too, wert also guilty, as I know; therefore I was not ashamed to take the money. But of the purse thy father said naught; so I had it in my mind to keep it--for, in truth, it is of more worth than the n.o.bles it contained. If I mistake not, these are true pearls and diamonds with which it is broidered. Look, here it is. What sayest thou?"

Here she sobbed, and answered, "She knew it well; she had broidered the purse herself. They were her mother's pearls and diamonds, and part of her bridal gear; truly they were worth three thousand florins."

"Then," said the brave old man, "I will give thee this purse, since it was not named either for me or for thy brother at Stramehl. Take it to Zachow; thou wilt make a good penny of it. Be pious, and G.o.d-fearing, and industrious, remembering what the Holy Scripture says (Prov. x.x.xi.): 'A virtuous woman takes wool and flax, and labours diligently with her hands. She stretches out her hands to the wheel, and her fingers grasp the spindle.' Hadst thou learned this, in place of thy costly broidery, methinks it would have been better with thee this day."

As he thus spoke, he put the purse in her hands, and she instantly hid it in her pocket. But the profligate Johann now suddenly became repentant, for he thought, if I can obtain nothing good from my father, I may at least get the purse. So he began to weep and lament, and fell down, too, at his father's feet, saying, if he would only pardon him this once, he would indeed take this poor maiden to wife, as he had promised her, for he alone was guilty of her sin; only would his heart's dearest father forgive him? And so the hypocrite went on with his lies.

Whereupon his father made answer honourably and mildly--"Such promises thou hast often made, but never kept. However, I will try thee yet again. If thou wilt spend each day diligently writing in the council-office, and return each night to sleep in my chamber, and continue this good conduct for a few years, to testify thy repentance, as a brave and upright son, and Sidonia meanwhile continues to lead a G.o.dly and humble life at Zachow, then, in G.o.d's name, ye shall both marry, and make amends for your sin; but not before that."

As he said this, and bid his son stand up, the hypocrite answered, yes, he would do the will of his dear father; but then he must keep back this testament; so would his children be happy.

Otherwise, wherefore should they marry?--what could they live on?

A couple of cabins in Zachow would not be enough.

"Truly," replied the old man, "if I were as great a knave as thou art, I would do as thou hast said; yet, though the loss of the spices, which her father wickedly destroyed, did me such injury that I had to sell my house, to get the means of living and keeping thee at the University of Grypswald, I will keep my hands pure from the property of another, even if this property belonged to my greatest enemy, and the enemy of this good town also.

_Summa_, this day thou shalt go to the council-office, the testament to Stramehl, and Sidonia to Zachow."

So the knave was silent: but Sidonia still resisted; she would not go to Zachow--never; but if he would send her to Stettin, she was certain the good Duke Barnim would be kind to an unfortunate maiden, who had done nothing more than what thousands do in secret. And whatever the gracious Prince resolved concerning her, she would abide by.

When the burgomaster heard this speech, he saw that no amendment was to be expected from her; and as he had no authority to compel her to Zachow, he promised, at last, to send her to Stettin on the following day, for there were two market waggons going, and she could travel in one, and thereby be more secure against all danger. And so it was done.

CHAPTER IV.

_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 gra.s.s, 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?"