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Sidonia The Sorceress V1

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Now Fabianus, seeing that all eyes were fixed on him, grew red and
cleared his throat, and set himself in a position to argue the
point with Lord Otto, beginning--"So you believe that Christ the
Lord remained in the grave, and is not living and reigning for all
eternity?"

_Ille_.--"Yes; that is my opinion."

_Hic_.--"What do you believe, then? or do you believe in
anything?"

_Ille_.--"Yes; I believe firmly in an all-powerful and
omniscient God."

_Hic_.--"How do you know He exists?"

_Ille_.--"Because my reason tells me so."

_Hic_.--"Your reason does not tell you so, good sir. It
merely tells you that something supermundane exists, but cannot
tell you whether it be one God or two Gods, or a hundred Gods, or
of what nature are these Gods--whether spirits, or stars, or
trees, or animals, or, in fine, any object you can name, for
paganism has imagined a Deity in everything, which proves what I
assert. You only believe in _one_ God, because you sucked in
the doctrine with your mother's milk." [Footnote: The history of
all philosophy shows that this is psychologically true. Even
Lucian satirises the philosophers of his age who see God or Gods
in numbers, dogs, geese, trees, and other things. But monotheistic
Christianity has preserved us for nearly 2000 years from these
aberrations of philosophy. However, as the authority of
Christianity declined, the pagan tendency again became visible;
until at length, in the Hegelian school, we have fallen back
helplessly into the same pantheism which we left 2000 years ago.
In short, what Kant asserts is perfectly true: that the existence
of God cannot be proved from reason. For the highest objects of
all cognition--God, Freedom, and Immortality--can as little be
evolved from the new philosophy as beauty from the disgusting
process of decomposition. And yet more impossible is it to imagine
that this feeble Hegelian pantheism should ever become the crown
and summit of all human thought, and final resting-place for all
human minds. Reason, whether from an indwelling instinct, or from
an innate causality-law, may assert that something supermundane
exists, but can know nothing more and nothing further. So we see
the absurdity of chattering in our journals and periodicals of the
progress of reason. The advance has been only _formal_, not
_essential_. The formal advance has been in printing,
railroads, and such like, in which direction we may easily suppose
progression will yet further continue. But there has been no
essential advance whatever. We know as little now of our own
being, of the being of God, or even of that of the smallest
infusoria, as in the days of Thales and Anaximander. In short,
when life begins, begins also our feebleness; "Therefore," says
Paul, "we walk by faith, not by sight." Yet these would-be
philosophers of our day will only walk by sight, not by faith,
although they cannot see into anything--not even into themselves.]

_Ille_.--"How did it happen, then, that Abraham arrived at
the knowledge of the _one_ God, and called on the name of the
Lord?"

_Hic_.--"Do you compare yourself with Abraham? Have you ever
studied Hebrew?"

_Ille_.--"A little. In my youth I read through the book of
Genesis."

_Hic_.--"Good! then you know that the Hebrew word for
_name_ is _Shem_?"

_Ille_.-"Yes; I know that."

_Hic_.--"Then you know that from the time of Enos the
_name_ [Footnote: In order to understand the argument, the
reader must remember that the _name_ here is taken in the
sense of the Greek logos, and is considered as referring
especially to Christ.] was preached (Genesis iv. 26), showing that
the pure doctrine was known from the beginning. This doctrine was
darkened and obscured by wise people like you, so that it was
almost lost at the time of Abraham, who again preached the
_name_ of the Lord to unbelievers."

_Ille_.--"What did this primitive doctrine contain?"

_Hic_.--"Undoubtedly not only a testimony of the one living
God of heaven and earth, but also clearly of Christ the Messiah,
as He who was promised to our fallen parents in paradise (Genesis
iii. 15)."

_Ille_.--"Can you prove that Abraham had the witness of
Christ?"

_Hic_.--"Yes; from Christ's own words (John viii.
56):--'Abraham, your father, rejoiced to see My day, and he saw
it, and was glad.' Item: Moses and all the Prophets have witnessed
of Him, of whom you say that He lies dead in the grave."

_Ille_.--"Oh, that is just what the priests say."

_Hic_.--"And Christ Himself, Luke xxvi. 25 and 27. Do you not
see, young man, that you mock the Prince of Life, whom God, that
cannot lie, promised before the world began--Titus i. 2--ay, even
more than you mocked your temporal Prince this day? Poor sinner,
what does it help you to believe in one God?"

"Even the devils believe and tremble," added Jacob Kleist the
Chancellor. "No, there is no other name given under heaven by
which you can be saved; and will you be more wise than Abraham,
and the Prophets, and the Apostles, and all holy Christian
Churches up to this day? Shame on you, and remember what St. Paul
says: 'Thinking themselves wise, they became fools.' And in 1st
Cor. xv. 17: 'If Christ be not risen, than is your faith vain, and
our preaching also vain. Ye are yet in your sins, and they who
sleep in Christ are lost.'" [Footnote: This proof of Christ's
divinity from the Old Testament was considered of the highest
importance in the time of the Apostles; but Schleiermacher, in his
strange system, which may be called a mystic Rationalism,
endeavours to shake the authority of the Old Testament in a most
unpardonable and incomprehensible manner. This appears to me as if
a man were to tear down a building from the sure foundation on
which it had rested for 1000 years, and imagine it could rest in
true stability only on the mere breath of his words.]

So Otto was silenced and coughed, for he had nothing to answer,
and all the guests laughed; but, fortunately, just then the
offering-plate was handed round, and the Duke laid down two
ducats, at which Otto smiled scornfully, and flung in seven
rix-dollars, but laughed outright when Fabianus put down only four
groschen.

This seemed to affront his Highness, for he whispered to his
Chancellor to order the carriages, and rose up from table with his
attendants. Then, offering his hand to Otto, said, "Take care,
Otto, or the devil will have you one day in hell, like the rich
man in Scripture." To which Otto replied, bowing low, "Gracious
Lord, I hope at least to meet good company there. Farewell, and
pardon me for not attending you to the castle gates, but I may not
leave my guests."

Then all the nobles rose up, and the young knights accompanied his
Highness, as did also Sidonia, who now further entreated his Grace
to remove her from her father's castle, since he saw himself how
lightly God's Word was held there. Fabianus was infinitely pleased
to hear her speak in this manner, and promised to use all his
influence towards having her removed from this Egypt.

Here ended all that old Uckermann could relate of Sidonia's youth;
so I determined to ride on to Stramehl, and learn there further
particulars if possible.

Accordingly, next day I took leave of the good old man, praying
God to give him a peaceful death, and arrived at Stramehl with my
servant. Here, however, I could obtain no information; for even
the Bork family pretended to know nothing, just as if they never
had heard of Sidonia (they were ashamed, I think, to acknowledge
her), and the townspeople who had known her were all dead. The
girl, indeed, was still living whose goose Sidonia had killed, but
she was now an old woman in second childhood, and fancied that I
was myself Sidonia, who had come to take away another goose from
her. So I rode on to Freienwald, where I heard much that shall
appear in its proper place; then to Old Stettin; and, after
waiting three days for a fair wind, set sail for Wolgast,
expecting to obtain much information there.




CHAPTER IV.

_How Sidonia came to the court at Wolgast, and of what further
happened to her there._


In Wolgast I met with many persons whose fathers had known
Sidonia, and what they related to me concerning her I have summed
up into connection for your Highness as follows.

When Duke Barnim reached the Diet at Treptow, he immediately made
known Sidonia's request to the Grand Chamberlain of Wolgast,
Ulrich von Schwerin, who was also guardian to the five young
princes. But he grumbled, and said--"The ducal widow had maids of
honour enough to dam up the river with if she chose; and he wished
for no more pet doves to be brought to court, particularly not
Sidonia; for he knew her father was ambitious, and longed to be
called 'your Grace.'"

Even Fabianus could not prevail in Sidonia's favour. So the Duke
and he returned home to Stettin; but scarcely had they arrived
there, when a letter came from the ducal widow of Wolgast, saying,
that on no account would she receive Sidonia at her court. The
Duke might therefore keep her at his own if he chose.

So the Duke took no further trouble. But Sidonia was not so easily
satisfied; and taking the matter in her own hands she left her
father's castle without waiting his permission, and set off for
Stettin.

On arriving, she prayed the Duke to bring her to Wolgast without
delay, as she knew there was an honourable, noble lady there who
would watch over her, as indeed she felt would be necessary at a
court. And Fabianus supported her petition; for he was much
edified with her expressed desire to crucify the flesh, with the
affections and lusts.

Ah! could he have known her!

So the kind-hearted Duke embarked with her immediately, without
telling any one; and having a fair wind, sailed up directly to the
little water-gate, and anchored close beneath the Castle of
Wolgast.

Here they landed; the Duke having Sidonia under one arm, and a
little wooden puppet under the other. It was an Eve, for whom
Sidonia had served as the model; and truly she was an Eve in sin,
and brought as much evil upon the land of Pomerania as our first
mother upon the whole world. Sidonia was enveloped in a black
mantle, and wore a hood lined with fur covering her face. The Duke
also had on a large wrapping cloak, and a cap of yellow leather
upon his head.

So they entered the private gate, and on through the first and
second courts of the castle, without her Grace hearing a word of
their arrival. And they proceeded on through the gallery, until
they reached the private apartments of the princess, from whence
resounded a psalm which her Grace was singing with her ladies
while they spun, and which psalm was played by a little musical
box placed within the Duchess's own spinning-wheel. Duke Barnim
had made it himself for her Grace, and it was right pleasant to
hear.

After listening some time, the Duke knocked, and a maid of honour
opened the door. When they entered, her Grace was so confounded
that she dropped her thread and exclaimed, "Dear uncle! is this
maiden, then, Sidonia?" examining her from head to foot while she
spoke. The Duke excused himself by saying that he had promised her
father to bring her here; but her Grace cut short his apologies
with "Dear uncle, Dr. Martin Luther told me on my wedding-day that
he never allowed himself to be interrupted at his prayers, because
it betokened the presence of something evil. And you have now
broken in on our devotions; therefore sit down with the maiden and
join our psalm, if you know it." Then her Grace took up the reel
again, and having set the clock-work going with her foot, struck
up the psalm once more, in a clear, loud voice, joined by all her
ladies. But Sidonia sat still, and kept her eyes upon the ground.

When they had ended, her Grace, having first crossed herself,
advanced to Sidonia, and said, "Since you arrived at my court, you
may remain; but take care that you never lift your eyes upon the
young men. Such wantons are hateful to my sight; for, as the
Scripture says, 'A fair woman without discretion is like a circlet
of gold upon a swine's head.'"

Sidonia changed colour at this; but the Duke, who held quite a
different opinion about such women, entreated her Grace not to be
always so gloomy and melancholy--that it was time now for her to
forget her late spouse, and think of gayer subjects. To which she
answered, "Dear uncle, I cannot forget my Philip, particularly as
my fate was foreshadowed at my bridal by a most ominous
occurrence."

Now, the Duke had heard this story of the bridal a hundred times;
yet to please her he asked, "And what was it, dear cousin?"

"Listen," she replied. "When Dr. Martin Luther exchanged our
rings, mine fell from his hand to the ground; at which he was
evidently troubled, and taking it up, he blew on it; then turning
round, exclaimed--'Away with thee, Satan! away with thee, Satan!
Meddle not in this matter!' And so my dear lord was taken from me
in his forty-fifth year, and I was left a desolate widow." Here
she sobbed and put her kerchief to her eyes.

"But, cousin," said the Duke, "remember you have a great blessing
from God in your five fine sons. And that reminds me--where are
they all now?"

This restored her Grace, and she began to discourse of her
children, telling how handsome was the young Prince Ernest, and
that he and the little Casimir were only with her now.

Here Sidonia, as the other ladies remarked, moved restlessly on
her chair, and her eyes flashed like torches, so that it was
evident some plan had struck her, for she was strengthening day by
day in wickedness.

"Ay, cousin," cried the Duke, "it is no wonder a handsome mother
should have handsome sons. And now what think you of giving us a
jolly wedding? It is time for you to think of a second husband,
methinks, after having wept ten years for your Philip. The best
doctor, they say, for a young widow, is a handsome lover. What
think you of myself, for instance?" And he pulled off his leather
cap, and put his white head and beard up close to her Grace.

Now, though her Grace could not help laughing at his position and
words, yet she grew as sour as vinegar again immediately; for all
the ladies tittered, and, as to Sidonia, she laughed outright.

"Fie! uncle," said her Grace, "a truce to such folly; do you not
know what St. Paul says--'Let the widows abide even as I'?"

"Ay, true, dear cousin; but, then, does he not say, too, 'I will
that the younger widows marry'?"

"Ah, but, dear uncle, I am no longer young."

"Why, you are as young and active as a girl; and I engage, cousin,
if any stranger came in here to look for the widow, he would find
it difficult to make her out amongst the young maidens; don't you
think so, Sidonia?"

"Ah, yes," she replied; "I never imagined her Grace was so young.
She is as blooming as a rose."

This appeared to please the Princess, for she smiled slightly and
then sighed; but gave his Grace a smart slap when he attempted to
seize her hand and kiss it, saying--"Now, uncle, I told you to
leave off this foolery."

At this moment the band outside struck up Duke Bogislaff's
march--the same that was played before him in Jerusalem when he
ascended the Via Dolorosa up to Golgotha; for it was the custom
here to play this march half-an-hour before dinner, in order to
gather all the household, knights, squires, pages, and even grooms
and peasants, to the castle, where they all received
entertainment. And ten rooms were laid with dinner, and all stood
open, so that any one might enter under the permission of the
Court Marshal. All this I must notice here, because Sidonia
afterwards caused much scandal by these means. The music now
rejoiced her greatly, and she began to move her little feet, not
in a pilgrim, but in a waltz measure, and to beat time with them,
as one could easily perceive by the motion underneath her mantle.

The Grand Chamberlain, Ulrich von Schwerin, now entered, and
having looked at Sidonia with much surprise, advanced to kiss the
hand of the Duke and bid him welcome to Wolgast. Then, turning to
her Grace, he inquired if the twelve pages should wait at table to
do honour to the Duke of Stettin. But the Duke forbade them,
saying he wished to dine in private for this day with the Duchess
and her two sons; the Grand Chamberlain, too, he hoped would be
present, and Sidonia might have a seat at the ducal table, as she
was of noble blood; besides, he had taken her likeness as Eve, and
the first of women ought to sit at the first table. Hereupon the
Duke drew forth the puppet, and called to Ulrich--"Here! you have
seen my Adam in Treptow; what think you now of Eve? Look, dear
cousin, is she not the image of Sidonia?"

At this speech both looked very grave. Ulrich said nothing; but
her Grace replied, "You will make the girl vain, dear uncle." And
Ulrich added, "Yes, and the image has such an expression, that if
the real Eve looked so, I think she would have left her husband in
the lurch and run with the devil himself to the devil."

While the last verse of the march was playing--"To Zion comes
Pomerania's Prince"--they proceeded to dinner--the Duke and the
Princes leading, while from every door along the corridor the
young knights and pages peeped out to get a sight of Sidonia, who,
having thrown off her mantle, swept by them in a robe of crimson
velvet laced with gold.

When they entered the dining-hall, Prince Ernest was leaning
against one of the pillars wearing a black Spanish mantle,
fastened with chains of gold. He stepped forward to greet the
Duke, and inquire after his health.

The Duke was well pleased to see him, and tapped him on the cheek,
exclaiming--

"By my faith, cousin, I have not heard too much of you. What a
fine youth you have grown up since you left the university."

But how Sidonia's eyes sparkled when (for his misfortune) she
found herself seated next him at table. The Duchess now called
upon Sidonia to say the "gratias;" but she blundered and
stammered, which many imputed to modesty, so that Prince Ernest
had to repeat it in her stead. This seemed to give him courage;
for when the others began to talk around the table, he ventured to
bid her welcome to his mother's court.

When they rose from table, Sidonia was again commanded to say
grace; but being unable, the Prince came to her relief and
repeated the words for her. And now the evil spirit without doubt
put it into the Duke's head, who had drunk rather freely, to say
to her Grace--

"Dear cousin, I have introduced the Italian fashion at my court,
which is, that every knight kisses the lady next him on rising
from dinner--let us do the same here." And herewith he first
kissed her Grace and then Sidonia. Ulrich von Schwerin looked
grave at this and shook his head, particularly when the Duke
encouraged Prince Ernest to follow his example; but the poor youth
looked quite ashamed, and cast down his eyes. However, when he
raised them again Sidonia's were fixed on him, and she murmured,
"Will you not learn?" with such a glance accompanying the words,
that he could no longer resist to touch her lips. So there was
great laughing in the hall; and the Duke then, taking his puppet
under one arm and Sidonia under the other, descended with her to
the castle gardens, complaining that he never got a good laugh in
this gloomy house, let him do what he would.

And the next day he departed, though the Prince sent his equerry
to know would his Grace desire to hunt that day; or, if he
preferred fishing, there were some excellent carp within the
domain. But the Duke replied, that he would neither ride nor fish,
but sail away at ten of the clock, if the wind were favourable.

So many feared that his Grace was annoyed; and therefore the
Duchess and Prince Ernest, along with the Grand Chamberlain,
attended him to the gate; and even to please him, Sidonia was
allowed to accompany them. The Pomeranian standard also was
hoisted to do him honour, and finally he bade the illustrious
widow farewell, recommending Sidonia to her care. But the fair
maiden herself he took in his arms, she weeping and sobbing, and
admonished her to be careful and discreet; and so, with a fair
wind, set sail from Wolgast, and never once looked back.





CHAPTER V.

_Sidonia knows nothing of God's Word, but seeks to learn it from
the young Prince of Wolgast._


Next day, Sunday, her Grace was unable to attend divine service in
the church, having caught cold by neglecting to put on her mantle
when she accompanied the Duke down to the water-gate. However,
though her Grace could not leave her chamber, yet she heard the
sermon of the preacher all the same; for an ear-tube descended
from her apartment down on the top of the pulpit, by which means
every word reached her, and a maid of honour always remained in
attendance to find out the lessons of the day, and the other
portions of the divine service, for her Grace, who thus could
follow the clergyman word for word. Sidonia was the one selected
for the office on this day.

But, gracious Heavens! when the Duchess said, Find me out the
prophet Isaiah, Sidonia looked in the New Testament; and when she
said, Open the Gospel of St. John, Sidonia looked in the Old
Testament. At first her Grace did not perceive her blunders; but
when she became aware of them, she started up, and tearing the
Bible out of her hands, exclaimed, "What! are you a heathen?
Yesterday you could not repeat a simple grace that every child
knows by heart, and to-day you do not know the difference between
the Old and New Testaments. For shame! Alas! what an ill weed I
have introduced into my house."

So the cunning wench began to weep, and said, her father had never
allowed her to learn Christianity, though she wished to do so
ardently, but always made a mock of it, and for this reason she
had sought a refuge with her Grace, where she hoped to become a
truly pious and believing Christian. The Duchess was quite
softened by her tears, and promised that Dr. Dionysius Gerschovius
should examine her in the catechism, and see what she knew. He was
a learned man from Daber [Footnote: A small town in Lower
Pomerania.], and her Grace's chaplain. The very idea of the doctor
frightened Sidonia so much, that her teeth chattered, and she
entreated her Grace, while she kissed her hand, to allow her at
least a fortnight for preparation and study before the doctor
came.

The Duchess promised this, and said, that Clara von Dewitz,
another of her maidens, would be an excellent person to assist her
in her studies, as she came from Daber also, and was familiar with
the views and doctrines held by Dr. Gerschovius. This Clara we
shall hear more of in our history. She was a year older than
Sidonia, intelligent, courageous, and faithful, with a quiet,
amiable disposition, and of most pious and Christian demeanour.
She wore a high, stiff ruff, out of which peeped forth her head
scarcely visible, and a long robe, like a stole, sweeping behind
her. She was privately betrothed to her Grace's Master of the
Horse, Marcus Bork by name, a cousin of Sidonia's; for, as her
Grace discouraged all kinds of gallantry or love-making at her
court, they were obliged to keep the matter secret, so that no
one, not even her Grace, suspected anything of the engagement.

This was the person appointed to instruct Sidonia in Christianity;
and every day the fair pupil visited Clara in her room for an
hour. But, alas! theology was sadly interrupted by Sidonia's folly
and levity, for she chattered away on all subjects: first about
Prince Ernest--was he affianced to any one? was he in love? had
Clara herself a lover? and if that old proser, meaning the
Duchess, looked always as sour? did she never allow a feast or a
dance? and then she would toss the catechism under the bed, or
tear it and trample on it, muttering, with much ill-temper, that
she was too old to be learning catechisms like a child.

Poor Clara tried to reason with her mildly, and said--"Her Grace
was very particular on these points. The maids of honour were
obliged to assemble weekly once in the church and once in her
Grace's own room, to be examined by Dr. Gerschovius, not only in
the Lutheran Catechism, which they all knew well, but also in that
written by his brother, Dr. Timothy Gerschovius of Old Stettin; so
Sidonia had better first learn the _Catechismum Lutheri_, and
afterwards the _Catechismum Gerschovii_." At last Sidonia
grew so weary of catechisms that she determined to run away from
court.

But Satan had more for her to do; so he put a little syrup into
the wormwood draught, and thus it was. One day passing along the
corridor from Clara's room, it so happened that Prince Ernest
opened his door, just as she came up to it, to let out the smoke,
and then began to walk up and down, playing softly on his lute.
Sidonia stood still for a few minutes with her eyes thrown up in
ecstasy, and then passed on; but the Prince stepped to the door,
and asked her did she play.

"Alas! no," she answered. "Her father had forbidden her to learn
the lute, though music was her passion, and her heart seemed
almost breaking with joy when she listened to it. If his Highness
would but play one little air over again for her."

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