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Klytia: A Story of Heidelberg Castle

by Adolf Hausrath · English · Gutenberg #33133 · 633,586 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Klytia: A Story of Heidelberg Castle

Author: Adolf Hausrath

Translator: Sutton Fraser Corkran


        
Release date: July 11, 2010 [eBook #33133]
                Most recently updated: January 6, 2021

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33133

Credits: Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KLYTIA: A STORY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE ***




Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive




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                               COLLECTION

                                   OF

                             GERMAN AUTHORS.

                                VOL. 44.



                        KLYTIA BY GEORGE TAYLOR.

                        IN TWO VOLUMES.--VOL. I.






                                KLYTIA.

                     A STORY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE.

                                   BY

                             GEORGE TAYLOR.

                           FROM THE GERMAN BY

                         SUTTON FRASER CORKRAN.

                          _Copyright Edition._

                        IN TWO VOLUMES.--VOL. I.



                              LEIPZIG 1883
                          BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ.

           LONDON: SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE & RIVINGTON.
                  CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.
             PARIS: C. REINWALD, 15, RUE DES SAINTS PERES.






                              K L Y T I A.




                               CHAPTER I.


At a time when in our fatherland a cold raw wind made its presence
felt, and the sharp frost at night checked the growth of the early bud,
the Rhine valley between the Bergstrasse and Hardtgebirge had revelled
for many weeks in the timely spring, the especial privilege of this
garden of Germany. Even three hundred years ago at the time of our
narrative the Neckar valley shimmered with the white and red blossoms
of the various fruit-trees and yellow fields of rape, as if spring had
wished to see how an illumination looked by day. The Jettenbuehl above
Heidelberg which to-day resembles a green velvet pillow, on which the
ruins of the castle stand out like an offering to some Deity, was at
that date but a bare glacis, surmounted by massive turrets and angular
fortresses, the palace of the Kurfuersts of the Palatinate looming out
severe and threatening over the smiling valley of Heidelberg, as does
at the present time the gloomy residence of the Popes over Avignon, or
the menacing Ehrenbreitstein over the green Rhine. Between the
octagonal belfry and the "thick Tower" of which at the present time
only the inner walls are visible, the gorgeous palaces of Frederic IV.
and Frederic V. did not exist, but on the right the peaky gables of the
Chapel and of the roof of the old castle reared above the scarped
fortress wall; "the new court," erected by Frederic II., was built
against the octagonal tower.

In the low but spacious halls of the building which by its mixture of
the Gothic and Renaissance schools recalls to the memory the Flemish
architecture of the period, a numerous throng crowded together seeking
an audience of the Kurfuerst, in the latter part of a spring afternoon
of the year 1570. Before the door of the Prince stood the portly
court-servant Bachmann, attired in the resplendent livery of a Heiduck
of the Pfalz, his jovial expression forming a pleasing contrast to the
grim heraldic lions ornamenting his breast. Solemnly did he call out
the names of those to whom an audience was granted. Huguenots from
France begging for aid. Theologians warmly recommended to the notice of
the Kurfuerst, wandering Scots eager for service, Italian artists who
had obtained commissions were received in order, and dismissed.
Finally, there remained but two couples, widely differing in
appearance, representatives of the two classes which everywhere throng
the ante-chambers of sovereigns, resembling in their demeanour Grief
and Hope.

The two "Hopefuls" paced up and down the now empty hall in lively
discussion, whilst the two sorrowful guests sat sullenly in a corner.
One of these, addressed as Your Reverence, was an undersized well fed
man with fresh ruddy complexion and coarse features. His companion, on
the other hand, was a small dwarf-like being, whose dark costume stood
out in marked contrast to his fiery-red-face, one of those figures only
to be met with at the interment of a circus-rider. With a deep sigh the
dwarf addressed his reverend companion: "Yes, yes. Your Reverence. How
often have I, as counsellor of our beloved ruler, shortened with my
timely jokes the dreary hours of many awaiting an audience, who, even
if not favourably received, nevertheless laughed at my excellent
quibbles. At that time I little thought, that I myself should have to
sit here and beg for a small pension."

"We both owe our misfortunes to that vagabond Olevianus," said the
Parson. "Because I defeated him in a public argument--he knows as much
about theology as your cow does of a bag-pipe--and because he cannot
bear to see how I filled my church, therefore has he deprived me of my
position in the Church of St. Peter, leaving me only matins in the Holy
Ghost, which no one ever attends. But that will help him little, let
but the Heidelbergers have to choose between me and Olevianus and we
shall see who gets the most votes. That he well knows, and on that
account am I stuck in the background. But I seek an audience and intend
to speak out my mind to the Kurfuerst, although he does not like to hear
the truth."

"Our day is over, Herr Neuser," said the discharged Court-fool; "these
are the people who now have full swing," and he grimly pointed to the
other couple, a well dressed old Italian with a head like a fox,
listening covertly to anything said in his neighbourhood, whilst at the
same time he earnestly addressed a young man, who appeared from his
long locks and Raphael-cap to be an artist. "There is another of those
starvelings, which the Italian Doctor trots up and down. At the 'Stag'
where he has stopped a whole week, he has not as yet drunk a whole
bottle of wine. That cock-sparrow has most surely got in his pocket a
letter from Herr Beza recommending him for a post as Privy, or Church
Counsellor."

"Then ought he to have risen earlier," said the Parson, "the martyrs
from Treves, Paris and Prague have long since snapped up those dainty
morsels."

"Then in that case he will be paid, so that wolves may not gobble the
moon, nor the people of Heilbronn set fire to the Neckar; bread and
places are always to be found by the Italians."

"This way, gentlemen, this way most honoured scum!" said the Priest in
the tone of a showman. "Here may you see Boquin, Ramus, Du Jon,
Tremelli and Sanchi, Ursinus and the Bohemian Zuleger, Olevianus from
the lower Rhine, van Keulen, Pithopoeus, Dathan, Marnix, and others
whatever may be their names. For an honest Swabian there is no place,
we may as well quit."

The expressions of the worthy couple would have in no wise lighted up,
had they understood the advice which Professor Pigavetta, the hospital
surgeon, strove to impress upon the young Felice Laurenzano, cautiously
making use, however, of the Italian language. "Remember what you owe to
the Society," said he earnestly, "it paid for your education, it sent
you to Flanders, in order that you might acquire another style than
that of Rome and Florence, it referred you to Master Colins, whose
letter of recommendation brings you here under such creditable
circumstances."

"Excellency," replied the young architect, "even without this reminder,
I can never forget what the reverend Fathers have done for me and my
brother. Show me how I can prove my gratitude to the College for its
kindness? I am unfortunately so distracted, so accustomed to dream
along as I go, that I fear to let a timely opportunity escape unseen,
although ingratitude was never a sin of mine."

"That is very simple, my son," answered the older man. "You should look
out for an occasion to introduce one of our party into this Court. You
should inform us, should you think that anyone has the interest of the
Holy Church at heart, and if affairs of any importance come under your
hand, let me know at once, so that I can advise you how they are to be
carried out. The Church does not consider her cause here as lost.
Prince Ludwig is in no wise satisfied with his father's innovations. So
soon as the old gentleman is dead, Calvinism will be as carefully
rooted out, as it is now implanted, and then much depends on our having
here a party, on which we can reckon. I have fought the cause of the
Church on much more dangerous ground. If we succeed not in the
immediate restoration of her rights, nevertheless we are contented if
the excrescence of the adversary does not increase in growth. 'Trim the
sails according to the wind,' said the holy father Ignatius. The
Kurfuerst intends introducing here the Calvinistic dogma, but he will
find it difficult to accustom the population of this great vineyard as
the Pfalz is called, to drink water and sing Calvin's psalms. To be
inside the house an hour after sun-down, not to tipple, play, or swear,
to sit on Sundays teaching children, instead of bowling and dancing,
will not be easily forced into the crania of these bullet-headed
Pfalzers. The dyspeptic Olevianus and our honest Ursinus will live to
learn that it is easier to write a catechism, than to accustom the
Heidelbergers to drink water. So soon as the Church Council obtains the
signature of the Kurfuerst, our time begins. I must myself be off to the
Reichstag at Speyer, in the meantime do you reconnoitre the field of
battle, support the opponents of church-discipline in their opposition,
and throw as many difficulties in its way as you possibly can. For the
moment to impede definite situations it is sufficient to back up the
weak against the strong. When the heretics find that the heads of their
party can never remain at peace, they will seize the first opportunity
to re-enter the flock of the Holy Father, where only they can find
rest."

The young Italian had been carefully scanning the face of his patron
thus addressing him. But his eyes only had followed the play of the
characteristic features, had observed the remarkable head of the eager
man, noted his every twist and turn, his own fingers meanwhile moving
as if he were kneading a lump of clay, endeavouring to retain the
expression in this plastic material. "What a model," thought he, "for
my picture of Cassius winning Brutus over to the idea of murdering
Caesar. This eloquence, this fanatical look, the cunning insinuating
actor!" The latter looked up inquiringly at him, as if expecting an
assentient answer. "Certainly, certainly," quickly replied the young
artist, a deep blush rising to his face. He endeavoured to collect
himself, but became the more absentminded as the wily politician
continued to disclose to him the praiseworthy intentions of the Society
of Jesus in regard to the Palatinate. An event of his early childhood
came back to him, how when once his grandmother in Naples praised him
for listening with profound attention to a long scolding, he very
inopportunely pointed with his little finger to her meagre throat, and
said: "Granny, when thou speakest such a funny little ball goes up and
down;" for saying which his enraged grandmother gave him his first box
on the ear. He could not help smiling as he thought how little he had
improved since then. His illustrious patron ceased and the young man
replied: "I am but an artist, seeing nought but colour, form and line,
I do not behold with the eyes of a politician."

"Good," replied Pigavetta quite satisfied, "but your brother Paolo,
Signor Felice, for that very reason is better informed in political
matters. Tell him all that your falcon eye discovers, he will soon draw
his conclusions and let me know. My address in Speyer is known to him."

The Prince's usher now stepped up to them, saying: "His Gracious
Highness has ordered me to admit you two gentlemen, the audience will
then be at an end."

"Come," said the physician to the young man, "answer boldly. The Prince
likes straightforward people." They entered the audience chamber,
leaving the Parson and his companion to retire grumbling.




                              CHAPTER II.


In a room of moderate height, panelled in oak, but with broad
round-paned windows, stood the Kurfuerst Frederic III. near an open
writing-table ornamented with inlaid work and richly adorned with
appropriate mottoes and allegorical figures. A Dutch stove of coarse
German manufacture, representing the world's history from the time of
Adam and Eve to that of the Emperor Charles V. and Francis I., offered
a solid support to that stout gentleman. Pigavetta bowed deeply and
said to the Prince: "I introduce to Your Highness the young artist,
whom Your Highness empowered me to invite."

A short, thick-set asthmatic figure stept forward towards the young
man. A plate-like ruffle surrounded that part of the body known in
other men as the neck, but out of this arose a firm, honest face with a
fair beard. The smallish features were enlivened by a pair of clear
blue eyes, whose gaze a man willingly met. Honesty, truth, and a clear
conscience were all more plainly expressed on the features of this
short sturdy man than mental aptitude or quickness of thought.

Near the window stood, attired in a dark Spanish costume, the court
physician Thomas Liebler, surnamed Erastus, at that time the most
influential man in the Palatinate, whose intervention in church matters
was not welcomed by the theologians of the town.

"You are well recommended to me, Master Laurenzano," said the Count
Palatine in a kindly tone to the young man, pointing at the same time
to plans, accounts, and statements piled up before him. "Master Colins
considers you in the light of a second Michel Angelo. You are an
artist, sculptor and architect, and your black eyes tell me that you
are also a poet."

"He who will build, most gracious Lord," answered the young man in
broken German, to the evident amusement of the Prince, "must also be
able to draw and chisel. In my own country I should not consider myself
an architect, did I not understand both."

"Well spoken, young man, and you shall have an opportunity here of
doing both. When I succeeded to the throne, I found empty coffers, and
instead of money the newly begun gorgeous structure outside there,
which robbed me of my rest by night and day, as I knew not how I could
manage to finish it without neglecting something more important. That
building was a misfortune for the country. Look out into this open
court. The homes of my ancestors resemble old barns, in comparison with
this glittering Italian mansion, erected by Count Palatine Otto
Heinrich, to whose soul may God grant eternal rest. Who for the future
will be contented to live in the Ruprecht castle, or in that of Ludwig
V., or here in the new court, when at every turn this magic castle
meets his eye?"

Without much respect for the growlings of the old Prince, the young man
gazed with unconcealed delight through the open window at the beautiful
picture which lay spread before him. The sun-shine streamed into the
open court, which resembled an enclosed Piazzetta. Gloomy and low
castellated buildings stood in irregular confusion on the South and
West sides, but as the fairy castle of some fair dream, rose on the
Eastern side, bathed in the rays of the setting sun, the building of
Count Otto Heinrich, and the dark blue sky caused the red sand-stone to
glow, as if all these pillars, pilasters, consoles, shafts and statues
had been carved out of some wondrous precious stone, half ruby, half
jasper.

"What a material!" said the young artist in an entranced tone.

"It is the same with this confounded castle," continued the Prince, "as
with every unsuitable gift. Once my wife sent a Turkish carpet and
embroidered curtains, presented to her by the Woywode, to the chamber
where sit the Ladies of the Court. Very soon the old furniture no
longer contented these Dames, they wanted Flemish hangings, then new
chairs and tables, and finally the new carpet kicked out of the door
all the old household goods. So will it soon be with this new castle.
My wife already finds the old chapel too gloomy and heavy as compared
with the new building. Perhaps you will live to see, that my son
instead of worshipping in the House of God used by my ancestors, will
build here one of those new heathen temples with gable-ends and
cupolas; then the palace of the Emperor Ruprecht will find no grace in
the eyes of the grandson and will have to give place to some new
edifice, in short this building of my predecessor will suck the marrow
out of the country; in regal palaces the Counts Palatine and their
wives will dream of kings' crowns, and thus bring misfortune to our
Pfalz. For the happiness of this country consisted in that the Princes
knew their limits. That is the cause of my hating the building, and
were I a conscientious man I would myself quietly set fire to it some
night, and let the chiselled casket burn to the very ground."

Pigavetta listened to the outspoken statements made by the German
Prince with a sarcastic smile, and then asked with a tinge of irony:
"Then the business of this young man will be to pull down the new
building?"

"No," replied the Kurfuerst, with a severe glance from under his bushy
eyebrows at the impudent Italian. "As we have kept our thumbs on our
purse-strings, we have come to such a pass as enables us to finish the
building, for _connoisseurs_ tell me that something must be done, or
the beauteous work will suffer. For this reason has Master Alexander
Colins recommended you to me; for he himself has promised our most
gracious Sovereign the Emperor, not to undertake any work till he has
erected the monument to the Emperor Max at Innsbruck. You have worked
under his orders, and will therefore best carry out his designs."

"It will be a high honour for me," modestly answered the young man, "to
work at a building, whose facade the immortal Michel Angelo helped to
trace, as I am told, and whose sculptures were chiselled by my master,
Colins."

"Yes, yes! these sculptures," puffed out the Prince, throwing himself
back in an arm-chair. "Yesterday I had a discussion about them with my
Council. A beginning must be made with them. The gentlemen tell me
plainly that I am placing heathen Deities on my roof, and that the
planetary Gods watch me through my windows, and as the severe Olevianus
has heard through you, Herr Pigavetta, that the work is to be begun
again, they insist on these idols being removed."

"An impudent set," murmured Pigavetta.

"Not so," answered the Kurfuerst, "we will have in the Palatinate no
watch-dogs around God's house who cannot bark. Even our predecessor
caused his monument to be removed from the Holy Ghost, because Deacon
Klebitz told him, he could not permit naked figures, together with the
wise Virgins of the Gospels cut in marble, in his church. I will not be
more obstinate than my noble cousin. The affair was thus," continued he
turning towards the architect: "The Theologians in Jena are now very
eagerly exposing the errors of Master Philip Melanchthon, and justly
complain, that this pious man laid too much importance on Astrology, a
heathen and Jewish science as well as a blasphemous inquisitiveness.
Both Luther and Master Calvin reproached him for this very reason. Our
great Genevese teacher does not hold images in any esteem, and thus the
statues of the planets which you see there, are doubly objectionable to
my Church Council."

Felice impatiently shrugged his shoulders, and for a moment it seemed
as if the wrath of the hot-blooded Neapolitan must explode.

"I do not mean," said the Kurfuerst kindly, "that we must remove all the
statues. The male deities and ancient heroes below there can possibly
disturb no one, and even if the heathen Hercules looks rather
remarkable standing between Samson and King David, he has such a kind
genial expression that I cannot help every morning being amused at him.
He is also a fitting companion to Samson, who holds the jaw-bone of the
ass in his right hand, and has the dead lion at his left side, and was
himself the Hercules of the people of Israel. Above them you see the
five virtues: strength breaking pillars, justice with sword and
balance, faith, hope and charity; charity is the best of them,
therefore is she placed over the portal. Against these even Olevianus
can say nothing. In the third row higher up are the planetary deities:
Saturn, wishing to eat up the child. Mars, Venus, Mercury and Diana,
the goddess of the moon, but above them all, there where dwells my
physician Erastus and his daughter, who has just withdrawn her pretty
fair head from the window, is Jupiter and the Sun-God Serapis with his
radiant crown. Against these the spiritual gentlemen are especially
spiteful."

"I also," said Erastus for the first time joining in the conversation,
"am no friend of astrology, and have, as Your Highness knows, written a
book against it. That which makes me however especially take offence at
the opinion of my colleagues, is the way in which the gentlemen
composing the Church Council, go about Your Highness' Land, spying
about with a telescope seeking for some ground of complaint. The
figures are so high, that they can scarce be plainly seen with the
naked eye, and no straightforward Christian knows that they represent
sun, moon and planets, from which constellations the deceased Count
Palatine traced all the good or evil fortunes of man, and therefore
placed his home under their protection. Were it not known, that Master
Philip advised the deceased Count in his choice of the figures, it
would never have occurred to the theologians to trouble their heads
about the matter. Thus they wish to offer a sacrifice to their hatred
of images, and render themselves of importance to their brethren in
Geneva and Scotland, as they rule over their princely sovereign and
introduce their church regimen even in his household."

Master Felix had not only listened to the speaker with sympathy, but
had also taken the opportunity to examine more closely the statesman so
well known in the Palatinate. He saw a tall stately man of an energetic
commanding appearance. Even outwardly the scholar formed a wonderful
contrast to the true-hearted, undersized, strong-built Kurfuerst, and
this contrast would have been entirely in Erastus' favour, had not
nature herself spoilt this her masterpiece of mankind. Erastus' right
arm hung dead and stiff at his side. He had been thus crippled from
birth, and still more remarkable and singular was the fact that the
physician's hair was lighter than the swarthy face which it surrounded,
so that he resembled a black man turned gray. His friends called him
the Moor, his opponents, of whom he had many, the black devil. "The
Almighty writes a plain hand," said his enemy Olevianus, if he even saw
him from afar. "Yes, yes," replied the more gentle Ursinus, "he has
been marked by God."

The Prince heard smilingly his friend's speech, then said
good-naturedly: "You are angry with the Church Council, Erastus,
because you lay under the ban. I have however always heard Otto
Heinrich praised for altering his tomb-stone, when it became a rock of
offence, as he did not wish these theological gentlemen to fight over
his grave. I will not be behind him in forbearance for weaknesses. Let
us take away the figures, Master Felix," turning towards Laurenzano.
"Methought we could insert in the empty niches our heraldic quartering,
the Lion of the Palatinate." The young Italian crossed himself and
murmured something between his teeth which sounded like "Gesummaria."
The stout gentleman however continued quite unconcerned. "I meant
something in this style, you stick in the first niche the Lion of the
Palatinate holding a sword, as protector of the land, in the second the
same animal as if reading an open book, as it is very necessary that
the inhabitants of the Pfalz should study their Catechism more, which
is so richly supplied with arguments taken from Holy Scripture that no
sophistry of the papists has been able to prove any error in its
contents." Again the catholic artist crossed himself. "In the third
niche he might be holding a tumbler as a remembrance of the most noble
production of this land." "Dio mio!" shrieked the Italian in dire
indignation. "It is all the same to me should Your Highness wish to set
fire to the Otto Heinrich Castle, but I will rather hack off my own
hand than thus disgrace the creations of Michel Angelo and Colins."

"Respect, young man," said the Kurfuerst knitting his brows, "you speak
to a Prince."

"Oh! most gracious Prince," said the Italian, "respect for a Prince,
when speaking of the realm of the Beautiful. Do you know why I left
Rome? The Pope had been told that the naked figures carved on the great
Altar in his private chapel shocked all pious women, and the Pope
believing this caused all the beautiful bodies in Michel Angelo's great
picture to be fitted out with aprons and breeches. The man who gave
himself up to this is known to the present day in Italy as _il
bracatore_, the breeches painter. I turned my back at the time in a
rage with the Holy city, therefore all the less do I thirst for the
fame to be known as the cat-painter of the Palatinate."

"The young man is right," said Erastus. "I warn Your Highness most
earnestly not to give way to these theological gentlemen. They begin
with the outside wall of the house, as they cannot permit what they
term 'a public scandal,' then come the private scandals within the
house, and finally they will stick their noses in every pot or kettle
as did the gentlemen of the Consistorium at Geneva, so as to prescribe
what people should eat or drink. This pretended scandal has no other
object. These images are no idols, no one worships them, no one has
ever taken offence at them. They stand within the enclosed court of my
most gracious Lord, and only Olevianus' parson's love of meddling
dictated the unseemly representation on the part of the Church Council,
so that he might essay the Church regimen on the sovereign's own
household."

"So you will chisel no lions?" asked the Kurfuerst turning towards the
young man.

"_No_! _mai_," was the reply, and the artist seized his hat as if to
depart, but a sign from his companion reminded him before whom he
stood. With a courtly bow he added: "Master Colins was my teacher, my
Lord, were I not a scoundrel to destroy the work of part of his
life-time, when even a man like Raphael suffered the pictures by Sodoma
to remain in the rooms of the Popes, when he himself could have done so
much better, only because he had a regard for the work of a man, from
whom he had learnt something?"

Frederic III. shook his head in great displeasure and stepping to the
window gazed up at the pediment above bathed in the golden splendor of
a setting sun. Now that the upper row of images shone out in the clear
golden light, whilst the lower portion of the building lay in a bluish
shadow, the planetary Deities looked across so pleasantly at the old
gentleman, that a feeling came over him, that his Palatinate Lions
would besport themselves in a manner less genial. "This building,"
sighed he, "will always be a beauteous stranger in my Pfalz, what can I
do with a castle that is too beautiful even to bear my coat-of-arms."

Laurenzano had also stept up to the window and once more looked over
the rows of images. "The home of this artistic workmanship is not
unknown to me," said he. "Master Gherardo Doceno has painted almost the
same series, as the frieze of a patrician's house at Florence. The
facade is not without serious faults, but it is impossible, even to do
away with one of the figures, without sinning against the idea in its
entirety. The glory of a princely house is built upon Strength and
Heroism. That is shown by the giants and heroes which support the
whole. Virtues adorn a princely house, they stand there the chief
ornaments in the middle. Above the house rules a higher Power, to whom
the members must all look up, this is represented by the Planets and
Lights, through whom the Godhead rules the Day and the Night. Does Your
Grace think, it would be less of an idolatry should the descendants of
this noble House see in the highest place nothing but their own
heraldic Lion?"

This last argument which appealed to the religious mind of the Count
Palatine, made its impression. The old Prince looked with his big
astonished eyes straight at the bold Youth, and it was evident, he had
been touched.

"Do it not," now prayed the young artist with the touching fervor of a
southerner. "How many works of art have been destroyed in Germany
within the last fifty years. You have broken some to pieces because
they were popish, others because they were heathen or immoral--what
remains besides? In Augsburg I wished to see the pictures of Albrecht
Duerer, and was told that they have been dispersed since the
Reformation. In Basel I asked about Holbein's pictures of the Saints:
they have been whitewashed, was the answer given, so none can worship
the idols. Shall this continue, noble Sir? The Churches look sad since
robbed of their images, shall the castles of the Great also look as
bare? Wherefore have you brought me from Innsbruck, where I was the
right hand of the Master, if I am to do him here a deadly injury? Of
what use is your sculptor, when you desire no image or allegory?"

"Of what is in Heaven, young Man," said the Prince.

"By the blood of the Saviour," cried the Italian, "shall we paint
all our lives long, like Master Lucas Cranach of Weimar, instead of
Angels and Saints only the square cut faces of Theologians, or the
pumpkin-shaped heads of the Dukes of Saxony?"

"Stop, stop, young Fanatic," laughed the old Prince, "let not my
daughter hear what you say about Johann Frederic's beauty. Nevertheless
I see by your rudeness, that you are an honest fellow, as it is always
said in Germany, that the Italians are all smooth-tongued scoundrels.
You have convinced me. We shall leave the Planets where they are, and
you, Erastus, shall write to the Church Council, that their Prince also
knows what causes offence, and prefers reforming his own house himself;
let the gentlemen do the same at home."

At this order the physician smiled in such a contented manner that his
white teeth gleamed in contrast to his dark complexion. "Master Felix,"
added the Prince, "shall have from to-day a front apartment in the
Ruprechtsbau, where he can have the new building ever before his eyes,
and be able to satisfy himself as to the necessary repairs, for
whatever we have inherited from our ancestors be it of much or little
value shall remain. You shall however paint in the University building
the Palatinate Lion reading the Catechism. Receive our thanks for your
intervention," said the Kurfuerst turning to Pigavetta, "I am contented
with your choice."

As the doors of the audience-chamber closed on the two, Pigavetta clapt
his companion on the shoulder, and the foxy smile came once more to his
lips. "You did that well, my young friend," said he.

"Did I?" answered Felix, "I little thought about that."

"That is the very blessing attending a good disposition, it anticipates
of itself, what the advantage of the Holy Church demands. Observe
closely the rule of crossing everywhere the path of the heretics. I
have already told you, that nothing must be allowed to take root here.
Who wins, who loses, is in itself a matter of indifference to us, so
long as none remain fast in the saddle. To-morrow," added he, "there
will be long drawn faces in the Church Council, when they receive
Erastus' answer, for the learned pedant is not sparing of his pepper
and salt. I knew at once that my worthy Olevianus would swallow the
bait, when I spoke to him of the splendid opportunity of putting a stop
to those abominations. The Court-preacher Boquin will pitch into him
finely, and Zuleger the President will say: 'Now we have it.'"

The triumphant Jesuit was about to leave the ante-chamber, when he
heard Erastus' voice behind him: "Dr. Pigavetta, His Highness wishes to
give you other commands for Speyer." Pigavetta hastened back to the
room, whilst Erastus descended the staircase towards the court together
with Felix.

"You have rendered to-day an important service to all friends of divine
art, to the memory of my gracious master; as well as to myself, young
Master, and as thanks I will give you a piece of advice."

"And that is?"

"You are in bad company. How came you to know this so-called surgeon?"

The Artist hesitated for a moment, but double-dealing was not his
forte. "I made the acquaintance of the doctor in the College at Venice.
He procured an entry into the College of the Sapientia for my brother,
and the invitation to Colins, which has brought me here, was also owing
to his intervention. I owe him thanks, as you see."

"We have experienced in the University but few proofs of his honesty,
and he likes to stick his finger in every pie. That this gentleman is
connected with the Society of Jesus, is something new to me. The
brothers of Ignatius do not usually indulge in such grandiloquence, as
does this remarkable statesman. Were you also brought up in the
Collegium?"

"The Laurenzanos are of noble race, but poor. So after the death of our
parents the family were talked over into trusting my brother to the
care of the Society. I followed him to Venice, where I worked in the
_atelier_ of Master Jacopo Sansovino, and the Rector gave me the
permission to attend certain lectures which were useful to me. I shall
never forget with what care the College instructed me in mathematics,
languages, and philosophy, requiring no other return but that I should
paint pictures for the Chapel. Nowhere have I seen greater sacrifice,
greater diligence in getting out of the pupils, anything that might be
in them."

"For the use and benefit of the Pope," said Erastus coldly.

"All our gifts are given to us to honor the Holy Church," rejoined
Felix. "Besides you knew me to be a Catholic when you called me here."

"Certainly, Master Felix. We cannot permit Otto Heinrich's statues to
be repaired by Ursinus' Bachelors, or the Doctors of the Sapientia, and
the Heidelberg artists are so busy with politics and church questions,
that soon none will understand his handicraft. Therefore must we turn
to the Papists. You will be allowed to carry on the exercises of your
faith in your chamber, as you please. How comes it however that your
brother Paul fills a protestant pulpit, when inwardly he appears to me
as Roman as yourself?"

Felix looked up in surprise at his quick-witted interlocutor. Then
composing himself, said: "I have not seen my brother for two years."

Erastus shook his head: "In such a time great changes certainly often
take place. I am interested in the young man, yea more, as often as I
see him I have compassion on him. He is as handsome as you are, perhaps
handsomer, but his expression does not exhibit happiness and
contentment of mind. Can I help you, we are now neighbours. I dwell in
the 'new building' as the Kurfuerst often requires my medical advice.
For a lame man my quarters are rather high up between Jupiter and
Serapis, and I look down on the heads of all the planets and christian
virtues. You have a claim upon me, in that you spared me a daily sight
of seven lions' tails. I am also indebted to all Italians. I spent nine
years in Bologna and Padua, and experienced much kindness at the hands
of your countrymen. Visit me soon; Erastus' advice will be of use to
you in this Heidelberg where everything is war and partizanship, since
in twenty years the religion has been four times changed."

"Bachmann," he now called out to the old servant, who was leaning
against a well-house supported by high pillars, "this gentleman is to
have the two rooms near the pages' apartment. Look to it that his
property is brought up from the Hirsch." With a friendly shake of the
hand he left the young artist who looked after his new patron in
wonderment. "Model for a Regulus," he murmured, and then followed the
broad-shouldered Bachmann who preceded him jingling his bunch of keys.




                              CHAPTER III.


The full moon shone brightly over the Koenigsstuhl and shed its gentle
light o'er the gables and crooked streets of the old town, as the
Italian doctor left the Castle, and descended through the Bergstadt to
his home in the so-called Klingenthor. A clear spring pattered cheerily
to the right of the dark gate-way, and the water reflected back the
silver rays of the moon. At an open bay-window of a room in a
neighbouring house stood the tall figure of a young priest, who gazed
sadly at the quivering play of the light and at the Church of St.
Peter, whose vast nave appeared doubly massive in the moonlight, and
his ear was turned towards the bustling town, from which arose a
confused wild noise of drunken voices, the screaming of shrieking
girls, and the ear-rending din of the various bands of music in the
taverns, "What has come over thee, thou noisy raging town? Thy slain
men are not slain with the sword," murmured the young Priest in the
words of Isaiah. Sounds from the Neckar were mingled with those of the
streets. These were caused by fifers and cornet-players on board a
brilliantly lighted up ship bearing the guests of the Kurfuerst to the
landing-place near the bridge, and salutes fired from the "Trutzbaier"
lighted up the darkness for seconds and re-echoed through the valley.
"Oh! that thou wouldest come down that the mountains might flow at thy
presence," sighed the pale young man. Then he heard a quick step coming
from the Castle way and soon Pigavetta's voice said from beneath: "You
have been obliged to wait for a long time, my dear Master, but His
Lordship could to-day hardly make any end to his scruples. I am coming
at once." A key was turned in the heavy lock and after a time our
excellent physician entered the lofty room in the mansarde holding a
brilliant lamp, and offered with all the grace of an Italian his hand
to his countryman who reluctantly placed therein his long slender
fingers. "I bring you good news. Master Paul," continued Pigavetta,
"your brother is here and was received by the Kurfuerst in the most
friendly manner." The young Laurenzano quickly raised his head for a
moment and the name "Felice" came like a note of joy from his thin pale
lips. Then he was silent and passing his hand over his high forehead,
the old expression of melancholy resignation returned to his face. "You
mean," said Pigavetta in the tone of a man of the world, "that it does
not become a monk to make a relation in the flesh an object of
rejoicing, and the Holy Ignatius forbids them to be considered in any
other light than that of the Church and her Holy Cause; but my dear
Friend, a man is often a better Jesuit by not being so according to
rule. It is not necessary to hide your feelings before me."

"My brother will be useful to me," answered the young Priest shortly.
Then he drew from his pocket and handed to Pigavetta a number of
papers. "Here are the reports as to the state of the Church in the
Stift; here, what I could learn without exciting comment concerning the
religious relations of the families of my pupils. Here are the
astronomical calculations, so far as I, owing to the scanty means at my
disposal, could add them together from the tables."

"Let us sit down, my dear Master," said Pigavetta, throwing himself
back in a chair, and drawing the Priest towards him with offensive
familiarity. "You are not satisfied with your position?" asked he
confidentially.

"All delays and evasions have availed nothing," replied the other in a
low tone. "Yesterday I was again bound and have moreover to subscribe
by oath that I would render my teaching more in accordance with the
fundamental doctrines of the Augsburg Confession and the Catechism of
the Kurfuerst. You know that I cannot do this, therefore help me to quit
this position."

"You are not bound to fulfil this promise, since you never intended
carrying it out when you gave it."

"But the black gown of the heretics chokes me."

"Now, my dear young friend, I am for my part ready to rid you at once
of this Nessus robe if you prove yourself disposed for other duties."
The pale young man raised his large black eyes and fixed them
attentively on his superior. "They are looking out for a tutor for the
young Counts Palatine," continued the older man, "and as you are an
excellent teacher I shall recommend you for the post, but the young
Princes could help us but little if you do not obtain influence over
the new Kurfuerstin and even over the old Count. I am told that she
affects the Kabbalah and astrological studies. This may be the reason
why the thick-headed Count growls and opposes so violently the noble
science of astrology, by means of which many a court chaplain has made
a fool of his Sovereign during his lifetime. Do you know anything of
this science?"

"I can decipher the _rota vitae et mortis_" said Paul Laurenzano sadly,
"draw a horoscope, calculate the appearances, and the rest I can easily
learn, if you only provide me with the necessary books and
instruments."

"These will be forthcoming, still you must not enter into the study of
this foolery too earnestly. I have seen, how at times even the most
steady heads went mad on the Kabbalah and astrology, for once the mind
has got accustomed to wander about the starry fields, it returns
unwillingly to earth. The young Princess has eyes like stars, and to
gaze into them will reward you better than looking at Sirius or
Jupiter, and your own are not bad," added he with a gallant smile.
"Once win over the young Princess, and then can we do with the Kurfuerst
what we wish, that is," correcting himself sanctimoniously, "what is
required for the benefit of the Church. When a Prince at the age of
sixty marries a young widow he is a lost man. The widow Brederode
brings with her all the charms of youth, but not its inexperience; so
the good old animal is doubly lost. You are young and handsome, and it
must come to pass, that she will prefer you to her fat German husband.
Thus we shall soon compel the old man to do what you read in the stars,
and what you have to read there, that we shall arrange together in
yonder observatory," and he pointed through the window to the tower of
the Klingenthor. Paul made an impatient gesture of dissension, but
Pigavetta continued quietly. "Other secret sciences would be of use.
The Kurfuerst is heavily in debt. Otto Heinrich lived fast, and Simmern
was ever a land of need. How would it answer, should we fit up a
laboratorium. You must study the fixing of metals, making gold, must
gather falling-stars so as to extract the _materia prima_, collect the
night-dews in buckets, with which the Princess may wash her alabaster
neck ... You will find me no bad preceptor, I think I have proved to
you that I can do more than eat bread. I will instruct you, especially
in white magic," said he emphatically, with a sharp look at Paul, "not
in the black art."

"Excuse me from studying either. It might suit certain people later on
to turn white into black, and I have not vowed to spread the devil's
arts and idol worship over Germany."

"Idol worship!" screamed the Physician. "You speak like a Calvinist. In
matters of religion the question is not what is true, but what is
efficacious. Properly handled, belief in the Philosophers' stone or in
the _Elixir vitae_ of Bombastus Paracelsus can bear fruit just as
profitable to the Holy Church, as belief in the scapulary of the Holy
Franciscus or the bones of the Apostles."

The young Priest remained silent, but a hard sarcastic smile played
over his pale thin lips.

Pigavetta's brow wrinkled. "Brother Paul," said he then, "it appears to
me, that the air of this heretic town is dangerous to your vows. Did
you not promise to obey your superior, silently, unconditionally,
submissively as the stick in his hand? It seems to me that you are
falling back into the spirit of opposition for which the Principal once
reproved you so severely. It grieves me, but I shall not be able to
praise your obedience, when I send my report concerning you." The young
man bowed his head and looked down in silence without returning any
answer.

"Well," continued the old man more kindly, "if alchemy is obnoxious to
you, let us see what we can do through the stars. Our principal
adversary at this court is Erastus. Why am I not yet private physician
to this fat gentleman? Because the Kurfuerst has a blind confidence in
this Moor. Why is it that the Church Council has not been able to
introduce its regimen, which would certainly have driven the population
into our net? Because the Count was warned by this Erastus! He has also
written a book against astrology, and is full of ridiculous zeal
against the Chaldaeans as he calls us. If we succeed in winning the
Princess over to the stars, and a pretty woman likes standing, on a
warm summer's night, near a telescope close to a young man of your
appearance, then is the war against the presumptuous court-physician
waged in the bed-chamber, and it is your business to get rid of Erastus
in this or that manner."

A burning blush had risen to Paul's cheeks whilst listening to the
wanton speech of his superior and his breath became audible. Was there
any temptation in the proposition for the pale young man, that he
answered so eagerly, and his words issued from his throat cutting and
sharp as the stiletto of his countrymen. "Your Theology, most worthy
father, becomes every day more wonderful. I thought that it was
written: 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife.'"

The old Physician looked at him sarcastically. "San Giuseppe, what have
I now said? On the whole you would commit no mortal sin, in as much as
your intention would not be to destroy the sacrament of marriage but
simply to amuse yourself and in this particular case for the advantage
of the Church. Here can I refer you also to the moral guides of the
Holy Ignatius: 'Discrimination with less sanctity is better than
greater sanctity with less discrimination.' You may also shut your eyes
to certain advances made to you by the beauteous woman, for as the
General of our Society says: 'An experienced proselyter may overlook
much which he need not understand.' _Prudens tempore illo tacebit._
Moreover if you do not wish for the post, I know a dozen of the
affiliated who would only be too happy."

"I will accept any position," replied the young man quickly, "which
will free me from the obligation of wearing the robes of a heretic
priest, and of submitting to their laws. My own convictions are no
longer a secret to any here. Help me therefore out of this ambiguous
situation and I will render myself as useful as possible."

"Wait a moment," rejoined Pigavetta. "In the Rector's reports is not
your wondrous skill in imitating handwriting mentioned?"

"I know not," hesitatingly answered the young man, "why the Rector had
the whim to teach an art to the best draughtsmen of the class, which
according to the code of the laws of the Emperor Charles is punished
with the loss of the right hand. I will not practice it."

"You will obey the commands of your superiors." The young man sighed.
"I will give you nothing to do which could make you or me responsible
before God or to man. Shall our messengers be prevented from entering
the territory of the heretics, because the authorities will grant them
no safe-conduct, and is it a sin to render the presumptuous request of
these tyrants of no avail through your innocent art, when the eternal
salvation of millions is in question? Are not your bands as a clergyman
of the reformed church, and your now hidden tonsure, forgeries? What
mean these caprices?"

"I do not refuse to write a pass," answered the Priest in a smothered
tone.

"Let us see what you can do," said Pigavetta, handing a sheet of paper
and a pen to the young man. Then carelessly sorting a bundle of
papers he took out a legal document. "Can you imitate this official
hand-writing?"

The Priest looked carefully at the strokes. Then said: "What shall I
write?"

"Well, as an attempt, anything you like, for instance: 'Dear Herr Adam!
I have received your letter and quite agree with you. Matters are going
on well; to-morrow you will receive the required pass, and then follow
my directions exactly in all things, greet the Inspector. Your
Friend.'"

The young Priest wrote, the Physician looking over his shoulder.
"_Optime_, _optime_!" he then cried. "You are a finished artist.
I will shortly bring you some forms, you will write out letters of
safe-conduct for all our agents." He then with apparent indifference
folded up the note and put it with his other papers. But the other said
mistrustfully: "Give me back that sheet, I do not know what you may
want to do with it."

"I think you are becoming childish," cried Pigavetta impatiently,
"since when has it become the custom of the society for the novices to
watch over the initiated." And he took the folded paper from his pocket
and threw it out of the open window. "What sort of French scholar are
you?" added he quickly. "The Countess Brederode, or Her Highness the
Princess Amelia as she likes to be called, is very particular on that
point."

"She will be contented with me," said Paul, "but now dismiss me, it is
late. As you ordered me to conceal our interviews, I told the ladies of
the Stift, that I was about to attend a meeting of the clergy, in the
Hirsch, where I nearly die of ennui, therefore all the less do I dare
stay out till midnight, lest my reputation should suffer in the eyes of
these pious women."

Pigavetta gave him his hand. "I hope you will soon dwell in yonder
castle, and the pretty Princess will have no objection to your then
stopping somewhat later." The Priest blushed anew and hastily left.
Through the open window could be heard the hurried footsteps of the
young man for whom the fresh evening breeze was not sufficient to cool
his fevered brow. Pigavetta's long foxy head was thrust out to watch
him. "'One cannot angle without bait,' said the Holy Ignatius, and he
was the only man who ever impressed me. Of what use hearing the
confessions of this good youth, if I could not work upon his weak
point. He seems however as if he would shortly break away, so it will
be right to lay a new chain on him." After a while he added: "Leaving
all higher considerations aside, it would be no bad spectacle, if I
were to let this black panther loose on the white kitten in yonder
castle. This would bring about some excitement in this tedious home of
heretics, where we have five months of winter and seven months of
rain." Carefully taking from his pocket a creased piece of paper, he
laid another sheet over it, and began cautiously to smooth it out. When
he had finished this piece of work, he added: "Exposed a few times to
the night-air and this masterpiece of our good Magister will be quite
smooth, and then, friend Erastus, thou wilt thyself swear, that thou at
some time must have written this letter." After weighting down the
paper near the window with a stone he took his lamp and sought his bed,
saying: "The instruction in writing as given in Venice is worthy of all
commendation. Now we have in black upon white, that Erastus is an Arian
and therefore do not first require to turn white into black, as piped
this fledgeling."




                              CHAPTER IV.


The following morning the sun shone brightly on the small bow-window of
the room in the castle, in which Felice Laurenzano now dwelt. The Otto
Heinrich building stood before him in the bluish mist of the early
morning, and behind in vague outlines the Koenigsstuhl. The balmy air of
the park surrounding the castle poured in through the open window, and
the full notes of numerous birds sent forth an invitation to come out
and enjoy the freshness of the morning. In a cheery mood the young man
dressed himself, keeping ever before him the facade which was about to
become the future work of his life. But to-day his first duty must be
to seek out his brother whom he had not seen for so long, and who now
occupied an official dwelling in the Convent (Stift) at Neuburg.

The appointment of the young Jesuit to the Convent Neuburg, at that
time protestant, had a history. The Convent situated within half an
hour of Heidelberg was so rich and lay so immediately under the eyes of
the Kurfuerst, that it was impossible for it to escape "reform." Even
Frederic II. had stretched out his hand in that direction, whilst Otto
Heinrich had insisted on processions and clausure being done away with,
and granted the nuns permission to secede from their vows. Over those
that remained a counsellor of the Palatinate had been appointed as
Inspector, who confiscated the church property for the benefit of the
Palatinate treasury leaving to the ladies a meagre annuity. Thus far
the "reforms" had not been very serious. When however the Inspector
endeavored to alter the mode of life of these old ladies, he learnt to
know a power of resistance in these obstinate and headstrong females
against which he could not cope. As everywhere else, the nuns here
clung with greater tenacity to the old ways than did the monks or
priests. The female mind took no pleasure in the dogmatic discussions
of the reformers, and the reformation deprived these pious ladies of
everything for the which their hearts yearned, their particular dress,
the regular life, to which they were so accustomed, their beloved
pictures, and moreover the great consolation of their solitary
lives--their songs. To sing and attend mass, had been up to that time
their sole occupation, and thus in peaceful retirement had they been
happy. Evenly proportioned between _Ave Maria_ and _Salve Regina_,
their days had peacefully succeeded one another. But now a turbulent
throng raged around their gates, and the haughty spiritual advisers of
the Kurfuerst forced themselves contrary to all regulations within their
walls, to explain to them, that this existence was opposed to the
Gospel and to destroy their peace by forcing them to hear theological
arguments. Terrified out of their quiet life, the helpless dames burst
into the bitterest complaints against the tyranny which forbade them
the use of consecrated salt, wax-candles, and all things pertaining to
the glorification of God, and also refused to suffer them to sing
"_Regina c[oe]li_," or "_Maria mater gratiae_." Moreover these proud new
fangled Theologians with their wide white neck-bands permitted the
youngest novice to confute their Domina out of the Scriptures, the
servants were urged to break the commands of the church, and when the
child of the convent miller, whom the old ladies had loved and petted,
died, no one dared to administer the last unction to him, he was
allowed to die "like a beast" and was buried without incense or holy
water. That Satan himself had incited the wicked Luther and the hellish
Calvin to such misdeeds was a moral certainty to the good nuns, who
never wearied praying for help from any native or foreign protectors.
Should then another Church Counsellor appear from Heidelberg and order
the Domina and her flock to set forth their complaints, the new
negotiations produced about as much result as had the old. Either the
gentleman was received in solemn unbroken silence or the old ladies all
shrieked at him at one and the same time, so that he could only report
in Heidelberg that they wished for a renewal of the former status and
met with truly diabolical opposition the word of God. Otto Heinrich now
appointed a special Preacher to convert them, but they protested
against this breach of conventual propriety. The Preacher occupied the
pulpit during the principal church service, but only preached to empty
benches, and scarcely had he left the church than the nuns trooped in
with holy water and incense, and consecrating the church anew, they
held a service of their own. The Preacher closed the church, but they
sang all the more lustily in the refectory. The Inspector confiscated
their song-books, they looked in all the corners for old ones and
shrieked to Heaven till their wearied old throats gave out. These books
were likewise taken away, but they sang from memory. Sometimes they
read the _Horae_ in one room, sometimes in another by closed doors, and
their "_Salve Regina_" never sounded louder or shriller than when the
Inspector and Preacher raged outside and demanded admission in the name
of the Count Palatine. When the two gentlemen had thus been beaten off,
then the Domina and her ladies sent a complaint to the Kurfuerst, that
the men, whom he had introduced into their nunnery, had attempted to
force their way into the nuns' cells to spite their virginal chastity,
honor and other laudable qualifications. Out of revenge the Inspector
took the clapper from the bell and cut the ropes so that they could no
longer toll the "_tempora_." Then arose a loud wailing and sobbing all
through the convent, and the Inspector grinned as contentedly as if he
heard the most delectable music, but in the evening when he climbed
into his bed, he found it as wet as if the rain had poured through the
roof, and when he strode down the steps the next morning in a rage, to
insist upon an inquiry in the matter of this outrage, he trod on some
peas which caused him to fall so heavily as to produce a painful lump.
This mode of life seemed to him so miserable and unprofitable that he
resigned the place and returned to Heidelberg. As the Preacher was now
left alone he comforted himself in his solitary chamber at the
furthermost end of the convent, with a beaker of wine; but the Domina
took note of every little dissipation which he thus enjoyed, and
drawing up an affidavit which was signed by many unimpeachable
witnesses of both sexes, sent it off to the Chancellory at Heidelberg,
who reproved the poor man so severely, that his life likewise became a
burden to him. Otto Heinrich had considered the struggle carried on
under his eyes in the light of an excellent joke, and whenever he was
informed of any new tribulation undergone by his Inspector, the stout
lord, who measured three feet and a half across the back from shoulder
to shoulder, laughed so loud, that the large dining room of the new
Court shook again. But he was succeeded by Frederic III., who looked
more seriously at the "damnable bigotry of the Mass." He caused certain
of the most obstinate among these female insurgents to be seized and
sent to the hospital at Dilsberg in order to nurse the sick soldiers of
the fortress. Old Domina Brigitta was also deprived of her pastoral
staff, and the prioress Sabina of Pfalz-Zweibruecken was only permitted
to retain her position on promising to keep the peace, and because she
happened to be a favorite cousin of the Kurfuerst. The reform of the
Church and Convent was however now carried on in the most ruthless
manner. The ladies had to give way to violence as they could not do
otherwise. Outwardly the Stift preserved an evangelical appearance,
mass was no longer celebrated, the songs in honor of the Mother of God
and of the Saints were heard no more, the preaching was protestant,
and the elements were distributed in both forms. The number of
schoolchildren was increased, and the nuns were compelled to teach them
reading, writing, and the female accomplishments. This the new Abbess
had to permit, but at heart the older generation of nuns remained
Romanists and privately hoped for better days.

The new Domina herself was a kind-hearted, rather old-fashioned lady.
She was in reality as catholic as the others, but she loved peace and
wisely avoided a conflict with those in power. When the Pfalz inclined
from Lutheranism to Calvinism, public attention became less and less
directed to the Stift. The ladies now hoped to be able to return to
their former practices if they could only get rid of the Preacher.
Domina Sabina managed at last, owing to her influence with the Church
Council of the Kurfuerst, to have the old drunkard as she called him
dismissed from his office. To avoid fresh conflicts, the Kurfuerst
ordered that the ladies should choose from among the clergy of the town
the preacher most acceptable to them. Long had they consulted and
hesitated, at length they elected Master Laurenzano of the College of
the Sapientia, who was capable of imparting instruction in the foreign
languages to the young ladies committed to their charge. "My pious
cousin has chosen the youngest and handsomest of the lot," sneered the
Kurfuerst, as he nevertheless granted their wish. "They will however
thus become quicker reconciled to the new doctrines," he thought. This
time he had not seen the matter in the right light, and however sharp
the old gentleman appeared, in this case he had been taken in. In the
meanwhile he gave orders that Master Laurenzano should at times preach
in the castle, "so that one might taste the food on which the Dames
were fed, for this was not the affair of a cap full of flesh, but of
the eternal welfare of the soul."

Paul's conversion to Calvinism was something new to Master Felix, and
the _role_ of preacher appeared to him all the more grievous, as he had
gathered from Pigavettas' remarks, that the new faith had only been
assumed, to spy on the heretics. The education in the Jesuits' college
had ever been in Felix's eyes a fate attended with all good to himself,
but with much tribulation to Paul. Thus together with his love for his
younger brother, there existed a feeling of pity and commiseration,
which rendered him kind and yielding towards the excitable young
Priest, who often aroused his mental indignation, but also called for
much sympathy. Whether Paul had taken oaths binding to the order, Felix
knew as little, as what to make out of his part of calvinistic
preacher. "Poveretto," he sighed, "I have never understood this
reserved brother of mine, nevertheless Erastus' way of speaking, showed
me plainly, that something still exists to be comforted, perhaps cured.
Poor Paolo, yonder planetary Deities must have formed a complex
conjunction at thy birth."

Thus saying Felix threw his cloak over his shoulders and pulled the
brim of his Raphael cap well down so as to protect his eyes from the
sun. He moreover began to hum his favorite song, but the Nina, Ninetta,
Nina, involuntarily stuck in his throat as he entered the gloomy
gateway of the watch-tower. "One goes in and out of here like the
prophet Jonas," muttered he with a feeling of discomfort. "Do not the
pointed spikes of the drawn up portcullis project over the round, dark
moat as do the teeth of an open-mouthed shark? Sincerely do I hope that
these jaws will never snap behind me." Only after leaving the fortress
behind him did his heart feel lighter. The towers of the town arose out
of the morning-mist, as Felix gazed over at the beauteous plain beyond.
In the marketplace, opposite the chief church, he exchanged a few
friendly words with the host of the Hirsch, paid his bill, and after
finishing his breakfast, walked down the street towards the Neckar to
the covered wooden bridge which led to the other side of the river. At
the other end Felix had to give his name and the object of his stay in
Heidelberg to the watchman of the guard tower, before being allowed to
issue through the gateway. The mountains of the Neckar valley tinged
with a deep blue lay before the youthful wanderer and with charmed gaze
did his eye roam from the nut-trees which lined the road to the green
fore-land of the river, whose emerald waters glistened in thousand
circles, or dashed white crested against the large granite blocks,
which according to the legend a young giant had pitched down from the
Heiligenberg for a wager with his father, who himself had however
hurled them straight across to the so-called Felsenmeer. To the left of
the road beauteous lilacs hung over the garden-wall, or, sweet-smelling
elders in which the finches built their nests were to be seen.

"Since I turned my back on the snows of the Alps," thought the young
artist, "I have never seen any landscape which reminds me more of Italy
than does this valley with its chestnuts and vines. Who would have
expected so much beauty, that gorgeous building opposite, this Neckar
valley at my feet. I am a child of Fortune, therefore am I named
Felice." And he drank in deep draughts of the air laden with the
perfume of the newly-broken up sod and the fragrant rape-fields, borne
to him on the wind. Whilst thus dreaming of the delightful sensation of
being one of the lucky mortals, a division of the road caused him to
remember that he hardly knew whether he would reach his destination by
following this path, and he therefore stopt to await a peasant, who had
stood by his side whilst he gave his name at the Bridge.

"You cannot have heard much about Heidelberg," said the old man, "if
you do not know where the Neuburg lies? Come along with me, you wish to
visit your brother, the Italian parson?"

"How do you know that Magister Laurenzano is my brother?"

"Why he is as like you as two peas, only he is thinner and pale, but a
fine speaker, you must hear him in the pulpit, he is like a dancer on a
tight-rope."

"You have heard him?" asked Felix rather shocked at the comparison.

"That I have," rejoined the old man. "As I went for the first time to
the Court chapel, I saw in the pulpit a tall young man of about six
feet, who raged, wept, wrung his hands, and threw himself from one side
of the pulpit to the other, in a way that quite frightened me. What can
have taken place, I thought to myself 'Oh! what a total depravity of
the human heart!' I heard him call out as I sat down. Have they whacked
him, thought I, or broken his windows, or stolen his cabbages? For it
did not seem like preaching, but quite natural. Then he said again:
'Dearly beloved, such was the hardness of heart of the people of Israel
against Moses.' Ah, thought I, if that is all the matter, that happened
a long time ago. I had thought from the way the mannikin carried on
that the parsonage was on fire."

Felix looked attentively at the old man. "You are no peasant?"

"I am a miller."

"Is yonder house the convent?"

"No, that is where the novices had their hair cut before entering into
the cloister. Now kindling material (Lohkaese) is made there. It has
been turned into a tan-yard."

"You do not appear to be a friend to the Catholics?"

"I was a Catholic at the time when everybody else was catholic."

"And then you became a Lutheran?"

"And am now a Calvinist, as we are not allowed to remain Zwingliites."

"Did you change willingly?"

"One was obliged to do it."

"And when the Pfalzgraf Ludwig becomes Kurfuerst, what will you be
then?"

"One must take things as they come," said the old man with a sly smile.
"After Ludwig comes another Frederic. You know what our Sovereign said,
'If Jack does not do it, Freddy will.' One must know how to wait."

Felix did not quite believe in the passive resignation of the weather
beaten old man, for there was a cunning look in his eyes, and his whole
appearance was not one of stupid dependence.

"In my country," said the young man carrying on the conversation, "we
say that at the present time in Germany a cock-chafer can fly over
three different national churches, but it appears to me that if he only
lives long enough, he need not even fly. Religions here seem to change
like the weather."

"That is good as producing change and movement," said the old man
laughing. "When I lived in the town, every Parson had his special idea
concerning the holy sacrament, and each of my eight children had his
separate Parson. Harry learnt that the Body of the Lord was in the
bread; that is not enough, argued little Christina, he is with, in, and
under the bread. Parson Neuser told Christopher that it was there in
the Presence and that we received it through eating. Parson Greiner
however taught Jack: circa circum, round and about, not in the bread
but close at hand. Do you understand?"

"Were the customs then," answered Felix evasively, "as varied as the
opinions."

"Oh yes," said the old man, "the year in the which we had at one and
the same time both the Church Counsellors of the old Count, and those
of the new, was an amusing year; then had every church its own ritual.
Hesshusen enclosed the host in the tabernacle, consecrated it, turning
his back to the congregation, ordered them to worship the wafers and
handed these to the communicants over a communion cloth, so that not a
single crumb should be lost, and what remained was buried as in the
good old time. In the Convent, mass was once more celebrated. In the
Church of St. Peter they wished to become Zwingliites as is Erastus the
Physician to the Kurfuerst. Then they kept their seats on the benches
and the bread and wine was handed round as in a tavern. In the sacristy
the Deacon reclined with twelve others to celebrate the Lords' supper,
so that everything should take place as at Jerusalem, and once the
assistant-clergyman brought a soup-tureen filled with wine and crumbled
the bread in it, and said they must dip the hand with Christ in the
dish, that alone was a veritable communion."

The Italian crossed himself.

"That must have been a beautifully peaceful church, when every Preacher
did as he chose," said he.

"Well, not exactly peaceful. Hesshusen wished once to snatch the cup
out of Klebitz's hands on the altar steps of the Holy Ghost, and these
two right reverend gentlemen blackguarded each other before the church
doors in such a manner that the market-women of Ziegelhausen and
Bergheim learnt quite a collection of expressions. The following Sunday
however the Superintendent-General got into the pulpit, excommunicated
the Deacon, and forbade the congregation to have any intercourse with
him. No one should eat or drink with the excommunicated man, and the
authorities were compelled to deprive him of his office. Then you
should have seen how the Heidelbergers went for each other."

"Now you see, man," said Felix angrily, "what comes from doing away
with customs thousands of years old, when every man insists on doing
what passes through his head."

"The Turkish religion is also a thousand years old and yet comes from
the devil."

"But what is your creed, as you are neither catholic, lutheran,
zwinglian, or calvinist?" asked Felix. The old man looked at him
cautiously and then said in a low voice: "The spirit must act, not the
sacrament. Water availeth not, neither do bread and wine. The Spirit
must come from inwardly. They have many Bibles in Heidelberg, but they
only look at things from the outside, not inwardly in the spirit.
Therefore the confusion."

"You do not then belong to any Heidelberg communion?"

"You do not possess the truth," replied the old man. "You baptize
children who do not know the difference between good and evil, or what
yes or no is, and then you say, they have renounced the Devil. Thus you
begin with a lie."

"Well but for this reason children are confirmed at a riper age."

"A pretty ripeness. Go to the Sunday-school, when the boys sing out in
lusty tones, as if welcoming summer, 'For whether we live, we live unto
the Lord, or whether we die, we die unto the Lord,' or cheerily shriek
out, 'O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me out of the body of
this death?' You should be ashamed to teach children to babble the
Holiest name like heathens, and to turn the whole affair to ridicule.
Language used by children without thought is the beginning of lies.
Dogs learn to chew leather when fastened to smeared thongs. You confirm
them, when they are twelve or thirteen years old, not because the
spirit moves them, but because it is time and customary. That is not an
introduction to the church, but to the dancing saloon. The Parson
preaches, not because he is urged on by the Spirit, but because he is
paid for doing so. Like a quack he says on Sunday, what he has just
learnt the day before. As I go home Sunday nights and see the lights in
the study of the rectory when the two parsons and the two deacons are
preparing their sermons, I cannot help thinking: they are not ashamed
of lying. Verily they no longer know it to be a lie, when they stretch
out their arms and call upon the Lord in heaven in a state of ecstasy,
and repeat all the time what they prepared the day before, and lower
down sits the Parson's wife, who has heard him reading it aloud, and
she does not feel ashamed either. And others there are who preach in
the Chapel of the Stift, and call so earnestly on the Lord, that the
hearts of the poor nuns sink quite low under their tight bodices, and
then they go over to Heidelberg to the Holy Ghost, and call on Him
again in exactly the same words, so that he may the better remember
them, because the Almighty is rather forgetful. Is it not so?"

"Well, but man," replied Felix indignantly, "how would you have a
church without a priest, or how could you have service on Sundays, if
the preacher did not prepare his sermon?"

"Come to us, and I will show you."

"Who are you," said Felix.

"When you come to Ziegelhausen, ask for Werner the miller of the
Kreuzgrund, and you will be shown the way. You are a Romanist?"

"I am."

"And your brother is still one at heart?"

"Who says so?"

"When you see him greet him from Werner the Baptist, and if he only
knew what a treacherous thing speech is, would he not let the mouth
overflow with things, of which the heart is not full. He will however
not do so much longer, says the Baptist, because no man can deny the
truth without danger to his own soul. If he only wishes to eat well as
he has done up to the present, let him remain where he is, but if he
wants to sleep as he formerly used to, then let him come to Werner the
Baptist, who will procure for him that stone on which the Lord has
written his name, which no one knoweth but he who giveth it, and he who
receiveth it." The old man had drawn himself up, and his eyes flashed.
The strange mocking peasant was no longer there, a prophet in the
coarse dress of the country stood before the young Italian. "Fare you
well," he added drily.

"Thank you, Father."

"No cause for thanks. Here is your path. Do not however pass through
the big gate, but along the wall, the door leading to the chaplain's
apartment, is in the corner tower. He is not allowed to live near the
ladies, and it would be better if he did not live here at all. Fire and
brimstone should not be brought so close together. Everything in your
communion is wrong, as if the Devil himself was your Superintendent."
Saying so the old man hastened on his way.

Felix looked after him for some time. "Things are much worse here than
I thought. I left Venice willingly, because the severity of the holy
Inquisition cut me to the quick. I cannot drive from me this scene:
poor men torn at the rack, led down to the Lido and forced unto a board
spread between two gondolas. Then thus carried out to the Laguna, when
one boatman rowed to the right, the other to the left, the board
falling and the two poor fellows sinking in the troubled waters. It was
a horrible sight. But come what may, my beautiful Italy must never be
allowed to attain to such a condition as exists here. What have I not
lived to see! The holiest chapels profaned, irrecoverable treasures of
art destroyed by coarse hands, the churches as bare as stalls, altars
and fonts shattered, organs broken to pieces. No mass of Palestrina's,
no Miserere addresses itself to those poor men, no picture by some
pious master speaks to those blunted hearts! Therefore do their
Theologians rage and argue as to how the Incomprehensible in the
inconceivable mystery is to be comprehended as if the mystery did not
consist in our not being able to grasp it. I can endure all: bad music,
inartistic pictures, statues by Bandinelli, but when I hear this
heretical twaddle, then do I think, that a lunatic asylum as high as
the tower of Babel should be built in which all heretics should be
locked up, till they recovered out of disgust with one another." Thus
thinking the young man proceeded on the way which had been pointed out
to him, and already saw before him the gate in the corner tower of the
convent wall, when the merry, teazing sound of girls' voices roused him
from his dream.




                               CHAPTER V.


The young artist was about turning to the gate pointed out to him by
the miller, when he suddenly found himself surrounded by a crowd of
young girls, who ran out laughing and screaming from behind the convent
wall. So full of fun were these maidens that they never saw the young
man coming towards them. Several had joined hands and surrounded a
beautiful fair-haired girl who vainly attempted to free herself from
her persecutors. Her companions however danced only the more calling
out: caught, kept.

"Let me out, or I shall tell the lady Abbess," called out the prisoner,
who looked more like crying than laughing. Her obstinate jailors
answered her by singing: "Wegewarte,[1] Wegewarte, Sonnenwende,
Sonnenwirbel," and danced around her till their hair waved in the wind
around their young necks. The pretty maiden began to cry.

"Leave the Lieblerin," said Countess Erbach, "she cannot help it, she
is bewitched."

"The bewitched maiden," called out the Baroness von Venningen.

"Wait till we make her a wreath of chicory flowers," called out
Baroness von Eppingen, "with which to crown her. That will suit her
well, the blue flowers and the fair hair."

"Bewitched Maiden, lend me thy locks, I should much wish to be gazed at
so tenderly by those well-known black eyes during lesson-hours," called
out Bertha von Steinach.

And again they surrounded the weeping girl, and their cheeks glowed
with life and supercilious arrogance, and they danced around her
singing: "Wegewarte, Sonnenwirbel." Others in the meantime had plucked
certain blue flowers which grew by the wayside, and stuck them in the
clothes of their victim, as well as in her fair hair. The rich curls of
the prisoner fell down at which she shrieked out with rage.

"Now, Clara, don't be so rude," cried one of the maidens. Then suddenly
they became aware of the presence of the young man, who looked on at
the spectacle with mingled feelings of curiosity and displeasure. The
handsome stranger hastened towards them with quick steps as if he would
release the prisoner. Immediately the impudent jades scattered and
raced back towards the court of the convent. The prisoner followed also
slowly and bashfully, whilst rolling up her golden hair with her
delicate white hands. Thereupon one of her wild companions banged the
door in her face and called out: "Much pleasure, wayside-loiterer, go
round to the tower-entrance, no bewitched maiden is allowed through
here." And loudly laughing the maidens were heard racing off. The
angered girl stamped her small foot and turning round, beheld the tall
handsome stranger, standing so close to her, that she drew back
affrighted.

"Now are you my prisoner, beauteous maiden," said the stranger
laughing.

The pretty young creature cast a look out of her large blue eyes still
wet with tears at the handsome man, then raised her head a trifle
higher and said: "My companions can make me a prisoner, but not you. Go
your way and give me place."

"Certainly, beauteous maiden, if you will however point my way out to
me. You are certain to know where Master Laurenzano lives." An angry
blush crept at these words into the cheeks of the young maiden, as with
a haughty movement of her shoulders she answered:

"You misapply what you overheard. You are no true knight. Make way
there."

Horrified at the effect of his remarks Felix hastened to answer. "Do
you feel insulted at my asking about that gentleman?" The young girl
rudely turned her back on him and knocked at the door. Then it suddenly
occurred to him, whose black eyes had been meant, and he felt a lively
sympathy for the pretty child. "They do not hear you," he said, "and
nothing was further my intention than to laugh at you. I am the
architect Laurenzano, and only came to visit my brother who is your
convent-preacher. As your companions have shut me out with you, I only
beg of you to show me the gate, through which I can come to him,
without breaking the rules of the Nunnery."

These words sounded so politely cold, that the poor young thing now
felt, that she only had betrayed herself, as her wounded conscience
alone had marked a rudeness in the stranger's remarks. Hereupon a new
horror overcame her. What if the wretched stranger should relate to his
brother what he had heard, and in what a silly manner she had behaved
towards him. Again she stamped her foot, but this time through rage
with herself. Her first impulse was to run away and hide. But the young
lady in her overcame the school-girl. She quickly composed herself and
determined on the contrary to set the young stranger right with
becoming dignity, so that the bad impression might be eradicated.

"That will not be possible at once," answered she with freshly gained
composure. "The Magister is just now attending the Catechism class of
the younger pupils. If you will however wait here till it is over, I
will take care that this gate be opened and you can enter here." With a
gracious wave of the hand she intended to dismiss the young man, but as
he nevertheless remained at her side, she continued with polite
coolness: "If you prefer going through the main entrance, the sister
portress must first announce you and ask the Lady Superior if she be
permitted to allow a man within the precincts. It is all nonsense, but
they go on here as if it were still a cloister, although they do not
behave at all like nuns, as you saw for yourself. But wait, it is still
better, if I run round through the main entrance, unlock this gate and
thus save you the trouble of going round."

"I thank you, noble Damsel," said Felix. "Allow me to accompany you as
far as the gate." She hesitated. She felt unwilling to be seen in the
convent-yard together with this stranger, as this would only furnish a
fresh subject of amusement for the aristocratic maidens: "No, no," she
answered, "I prefer pointing out a shady seat by the pond, then keep
your eye on the gate." But the thought entered her pretty little head,
that she was bound to cause the scene, which this unwelcome listener
had come upon, to appear in a thoroughly unprejudicial light, so that
she might not in the end be questioned about it either by her beloved
teacher or the Lady Superior. Gracefully she preceded the young man
along the convent-wall, and his artistic eye watched this delicate
pliant figure, her steady gait, her every movement full of natural
ease. As she saw one of the flowers which had been plucked lying before
her she angrily trod upon it with her little foot. "What has the poor
Klytia done to you, that you thus treat it?" asked Felix with apparent
innocence. "You witnessed all," answered she, "how those aristocratic
young ladies abused me! I am here badly off, for I am the only one who
is not of noble birth, my father is Counsellor Erastus, or Liebler as
the petty nobility love to call him."

"Ah, my beloved patron," said Felix.

"You know my father? Oh, how glad I am. Is he not a splendid man?"
rejoined the lovely child with a happy light in her blue eyes, whilst a
flush of joy crimsoned her cheek.

"A noble man," affirmed Felix.

"Well, the Kurfuerst sent me with the Countess Erbach, and the Ladies
von Hemmingen, von Venningen and a few others here, in order that we
might learn languages, history, and the Catechism, and get accustomed
to strict discipline, and I know not what else, that high gentleman
imagined was to be had here. As I am the only commoner, they treat me
as an intruder and Fraeulein von Luetzelstein is by far the worst. She
has alleged that when we take our Italian lessons from Master
Laurenzano, I always turn my head this way and that way after him like
a sun-flower, and then they make fun of me 'heliotrope, girasole,' you
heard it yourself. But it is all nothing but silliness."

"Wegewarte, I heard them also call," said Felix slily. The girl blushed
involuntarily. "That is the same flower," she answered gazing with an
embarrassed look at the tops of the trees. "It is better for me to tell
you everything, in order that you may not finish by relating a lot of
nonsense to Magister Laurenzano. I had gone out to the meadow of the
Convent, to pluck flowers, but only because I will have nothing more to
do with the noble young ladies. Out of spite they followed after me and
Baroness von Eppingen asserted, that I had gone to the meadow, so that
the Magister might meet me on his way home, and then they called me
'Wayside loiterer' and made me prisoner. But," added she with an
imploring look out of her childish eyes, now suffused with tears, "you
promise not to say anything of this to the Magister, otherwise I must
throw myself in the water. Rather than be thus disgraced I will jump
into the Neckar. Promise me, will you not?"

The young man smilingly held out his hand. "I give you my word."
Apparently greatly relieved she placed her right hand in his, which he
did not hurry to let go, till she slightly blushing drew it back. As in
some beauteous sylvan fairy-tale stood the fair innocent child before
him. The peaceful pond, the dark trees, caused this bright light figure
to stand out with double grace. Intoxicated with beauty Felix quite
forgot the object of his visit, and only sought for some cause which
might retain this lovely Being near him. Seeing one of the hateful
flowers, which her companions had stuck in her hair, girdle, and the
folds of her dress, still hanging to her skirts, he picked it up,
saying: "Why have you given this beautiful blue flower, which we know
as Klytia, the ugly names of Wegewarte and bewitched maiden."

"Well," she answered with childish astonishment, "you know that this
blue thing opens its calix at the first ray of the Sun, and that its
little head ever follows the course of the Sun, till evening comes when
it folds itself up again within its leaves. On that account the story
says that the blue flower is an enchanted Princess, which would gladly
be noticed by the one she loves, the Sun-God, and therefore ever looks
after him yearning for his love. Do you not know what Hans Vintler
says:

     'According to many the Wegewart was once a woman tender and fair,
      Awaiting her lover with grief and despair.'"

The child saying this blushed again and continued with downcast eyes:
"It is also said, that the flower brings luck, if found before
sun-rise, but it must be immediately fastened to a twig, otherwise it
runs away."

"That is indeed a naughty young woman," laughed Felix. "Can I now
relate to you, what we know in Italy about the enchanted Klytia?"

"Willingly, but you must not tell anyone that you call the flower
Klytia, for as my name is Lydia, they would at once give me that other
name so as to teaze me."

"But I may call you Klytia." She shook her pretty head.

"Begin your story otherwise I must be off." Without sitting down she
leant against the nearest tree and gazed thoughtfully at the peaceful
pond. He began his tale: "The heathen poet Ovid says: In old, old times
when all men were still as happy and beautiful as are now only a few
fair Sunday born children, lived two maidens Leucothoe and Klytia. Both
loved Apollo, the beautiful Sun-God. He however loved Leucothoe and his
heart burnt so desperately for the beauteous maiden, that it was hotter
than the rays of the sun-chariot, so that he singed the earth, stars
and planets. The handsome God became more and more dreamy and the whole
course of nature fell into disorder. He got up as early in the morning,
as do children, after a visit from Santa Klaus, because he could not
wait any longer so desirous was he to see his pretty doll. He went
under too late of an evening because he could not tear himself away
from her presence. No one knew anything more about the seasons, as the
Sun-God remained in the heavens as long in Winter as in the Summer, for
Leucothoe appeared charming to him at all times. In time he became
melancholy mad, merely out of love. In mid-day he ceased to appear,
other days he was pale and worn out and hid himself behind clouds. Now
one time that in one of his love fits he had set before mid-day, the
Father of the Gods remarked, that this could not be allowed to go on
any longer. He would give him leave of absence every evening and a
latch-key to the Olympian gate, in case he came home late, but during
the day he must fulfil his duty punctually, otherwise he would make the
brave and reliable Hercules, the Sun-God. The handsome Apollo knew very
well, that Hercules at the best was only fit to be house-boots, but in
his heart he was very glad that the good Father of the Gods had
arranged the matter in that way. So of an evening, when he had reached
the furthest western point, where the world comes to an end, he
unharnessed his horses, and turned them out to grass on a splendid
large meadow, telling Hesperus, the evening Star, which remains out in
the heaven all night, to keep his eye on them. He himself then took a
dip in the Ocean and then with a god-like celerity swung himself round
to the Cape of Circe, where dwelt Leucothoe, assuming at once the
appearance of her mother. 'Get out,' he said to the maidens attending
her, 'I have something to say to my daughter.' As soon however as he
found himself alone with the young lady, he threw off his disguise and
fell at her feet in all the majesty of his glorious beauty. Leucothoe
was frightened, but she could not withstand him, for he was a God and
she only a poor mortal maiden. Thus he often visited her and heaven
regained its usual orderly appearance, and everybody was contented,
except the poor languishing Klytia. As the lucky God had no longer any
glance for her, and her sighs were all wasted in the air, Klytia became
sad and ill, and there was no longer any peace in her heart. In the
daytime she would not come out. For she did not wish to see the God any
more, who so shamefully snubbed her, only at night did she wander
through wood or vale, telling her love to the chaste Luna who however
looked cold and prudish, and would not hear of such complaints. It came
to pass that once she passed by the house of Leucothoe and noticed how
a brilliant light came through all the slits. Out of curiosity she
crept up and placed her eye to a crack. Oh, how her heart sank within
her, and how she cried in bitter dismay, for she saw the Sun-God
sitting within near Leucothoe, holding her hands und telling her the
most beautiful stories, whilst Leucothoe in an entrancement of
happiness gazed into his glorious godlike face and beauteous shining
eyes. Then Klytia fell into a rage, for she imagined that her playmate
alone was the cause of the Sun-God's never looking at her or noticing
her love. 'Look at what your daughter is doing,' she called out in the
ear of Leucothoe's father, 'she is sitting in her room alone with a
strange young man.' Just as the God was hurrying out, called by
Hesperus, the strict parent entered Leucothoe's room; in vain she
prayed for mercy. When Apollo returned, he saw before the house of his
beloved a freshly made grave, which the servants were just levelling
down. In this lay the poor maiden, whom they had buried alive. The hard
father thought that by doing this his honor was avenged, and the
despised Klytia imagined that now the Sun-God would turn to her. But
men only run after maidens who flee from them, and despise those who
are too froward. So Klytia became now totally unbearable in the eyes of
the Sun-God. His looks were always fixed on the home of his former
love, and as he gazed in hotter and hotter grief on the grave of the
poor Leucothoe, a rare plant sprouted out of the heart of the dead
maiden and broke through the earth. This was the Juniper, which filled
the air with its fragrance in the sun-light, and breathed its soul out
in the beams of the God. Thus the maiden by her death refreshed all the
senses and renewed the health of all who drew in her breath. Klytia
however, punished by the God with a look of fiery contempt, shrivelled
up, her beauty died, and she turned into a wayside plant, trodden by
every passer-by under foot. That which was best and strongest in her
however, her love for the Sun-God brought forth a blue flower
resembling the Sun in shape and when the God arises, it turns its
flower-face yearningly towards him, following his course by day, and at
night sinking down its wearied head. That is the story of the poor
Klytia."

When Felix began his story he had not considered, what an injurious
morality for the poor child lay therein; he had only wished to retain
the pretty maiden by his talk. After he had once begun, he let the
affair have its own way. He must get out of it and preferred to make a
virtue of necessity; he assumed a more fatherly tone, and only when he
saw how the poor child, herself like Klytia bent her fair young head
and shivered as some delicate plant when roughly handled, did he hasten
to bring his story to its close. But suddenly Lydia drew herself up,
her small ear heard an approaching step behind the trees, she turned
towards a lofty figure, which drew near in a dignified manner, and a
betraying blush colored her cheeks. Felix recognized his brother.
"Paolo," he called out. The young Magister heartily stretched out his
hand to his long awaited brother, but Felix remarked how the burning
eyes fixed themselves over his own shoulder on the face of the fair
maiden. The young girl had in the meanwhile composed herself and
saluting the brothers with a modest bow she passed on towards the
convent. As Felix turned round to take one more look at the pretty
fugitive, he perceived that she had done the same thing, and being
caught in the act rapidly disappeared behind the bushes. Her fright had
not escaped the practised eye of the artist, and with a slight shake of
the head he entered into conversation with his brother.

Paolo who hated the high road, chose a path leading through the
vineyards, from whence a view of the plain of the blue Rhine was
obtained, and which finally led back to the Haarlass. Slowly did the
brothers proceed on their way, both tall fine-looking men. The artist
in the tight fitting costume of an Italian of that day, with the
becoming Raphael cap, the Magister in a shovel hat with drawn up brim
wearing the long robe of his profession, his fine sharp cut face
surrounded by a platelike white ruffle. "The head of John the Baptist
on a charger" involuntary thought the young artist, who nevertheless
found that Paul's clear intellectual features appeared to great
advantage out of this white Nimbus. "You carry your Nimbus round your
neck," said Felix. But Paolo did not smile. Monosyllabic and hesitating
was the information he gave. Whether he had made Profession in Venice
was not to be ascertained, whether he had bound himself over to the
Calvinists by some outward act, remained equally dark. To the question,
whether he still held to the old belief, came the answer "as one wishes
to think." Only one thing was clear, he was not happy. The bloom of
health had disappeared from his face, which had become sharp and
haggard, the eyes either looked covertly to one side, or were fixed
with a piercing mistrusting expression full on the face of his brother.
Out of humour the two brothers who after so long a separation had so
little to say, finally followed each other in silence. Wherever the
blue Klytia raised its head above the grass, the Magister plucked it.
Felix thus knew, that the nickname given to Erast's daughter, was
already known to her protector, but he found out also how it stood with
his heart.

"You have a liking for the blue Klytia," said he kindly.

"The learned call it Chicory, it is used as an antidote to fever."

"Even against the fever of love?"

"What mean you?"

"Well, I heard, it hung on the sight of the Sun, as certain pupils hang
on the lips of their teacher."

The clerical gentleman angrily threw the flowers among the vines
beneath, as if they had turned into nettles. "Do not make such jokes,
thou knowest I do not like to be turned into ridicule."

An unpleasant pause succeeded this excited speech, and to give the
conversation another turn, Felix asked whether what Werner the Baptist
had told him concerning the former use of the Haarlass had any
foundation. "Foolery," replied Paolo. "Every child knows that the hair
of the novices is cut off at the altar of the convent-church, and not
at the boundaries of the convent property. Haarlass means 'hari lot'
that is 'the property of the Lord of the Manor;' anything else is a
poor joke."

Not to be put down Felix related what else the Baptist had told him. "A
way will be found to get at this bold heretic," was the only answer of
the Magister.

"When shall we meet again?" he then asked coldly as they reached the
road.

"Must you go back already?"

"I have still much to do; if you find time, go of an evening to the
Hirsch Inn. At the round table in the back room one meets the clergy of
the neighbourhood. I am accustomed to go there also, so as to make the
acquaintance of the worthy clerics of this land. We can there talk
further over matters." Saying this he stretched out his small thin
hand. His brother looked him earnestly in the face. But the Magister
avoided the loving glance and directed his steps back towards Neuburg.
"Can his heart really be dried up," thought Felix, "or is he only
inwardly miserable?"




                              CHAPTER VI.


The artist whose feelings of brotherly affection were deeply hurt, and
who felt the happy expectations which he had formed of this meeting
bitterly disappointed, hurried away at a rapid pace. The Priest looked
after his brother with a sad dark expression, then sat down on a stone
near the roadside and contemplated thoughtfully the deep waters of the
river in which the dark firs of the Koenigstuhl were now reflected. The
flow of the water recalled to him the troubled waves of that Canal, in
the which for so many years of his college life at Venice, he had
gazed, and he thought of the sad morning when he found himself
transposed from the small palace in the ever verdant garden in the
Chiaia and the blooming orange groves of Naples, to the moist damp
walks of the Jesuit college at Venice. Instead of the view over the
gulf which sparkled with the coloring of the opal or emerald, he saw
with horror the brown slime of the Laguna, His eye accustomed to range
from the ridgy peaks of Capri to the noble lines of Vesuvius, now saw
on the other side of the dirty ditch, a bare wall without windows from
which water dropped down. Accustomed during his hours of recreation to
play in the garden with his sister, watched over by the loving eye of a
mother, he now found himself surrounded by about fifty boys, who looked
as pale and strange as himself, who "for recreation" turned out in a
long gloomy corridor, or were taken for an evening walk to the Lido, he
at the tail of a long string of companions under the care of a teacher,
not allowed to look to the right or left to see the beauty of the proud
Venice. At first he thought that he should die in this world without
light or mother's love. He had wept during the night time and spent the
day in fruitless home sickness. His only occupation was, to pray in
silence, as he had been told that it was in his power, to free the
souls of his mother and sister from purgatory, and when he felt a
melancholy resignation in his captivity, this was caused by the fact
that every day which he spent in a convent, gave him ten days
remission, which he could pass on to them. Then he became quick of
perception in the hours of study, so as to understand the teacher more
rapidly than the others and to render more surely and more clearly the
subject learnt. The teachers themselves had repeatedly reasserted that
Paolo Laurenzano was their best pupil. For the first time he became
more reconciled with his new life. As the grain of mustard seed in the
Gospel the small triumph of ambition had fallen into the heart of the
child, and this little seed grew into a mighty tree and all the
passions built their nests therein. Torn apart from all that had been
dear to his child's heart, he now knew no joy exceeding that of study
or the praise of his preceptor. His every endeavour, his only thought
was the task of the following day. Whilst the others played _Boccia_ in
the court of the College, or billiards in the dining-rooms, the
favorite game of the Holy Ignatius, for Paternosters, or dominoes for
Ave Marias, which the loser had to repeat for the winner, he pored over
his books and writings. Only one passion governed him, to excel the
others, to be the best among good scholars. Whoever opposed him in
this, became his foe, and he stole hours from sleep, from play, even
from the supervision of the teacher to attain this end. A son of Naples
he was a born rhetorician; especially adapted for the cultivation of
oratory, and argument was the course of study followed in the school of
the Jesuits. Here everything brilliant was cherished, everything which
caught public attention: Latin declamation and disputation, poetry, the
comedy of the schools, sophistical philosophy and bombastical oratory,
in short all empty show which impressed the ignorant. It was in this
very rhetorical display that lay Paolo's special gift, and when he, at
some of the exhibitions, which were frequently performed in the
interest of the College, hailed down his Latin with all the rattling
velocity of a Neapolitan tongue on some weaker opponent, or
pathetically declaimed in his sonorous soft voice long extracts from
Vergil or Lucian, when he hurled down from the lofty rostra pompous
speeches in sounding periods at the well-dressed audience, which
applauded with the quickness of an Italian assembly every pointed
antithesis, cheered every epigrammatic proposition, noisily acclaimed
every school boyish twaddle, Paolo felt himself then to be not as other
men are, and the proud tread with which he left the platform after the
end of his speech might have served as model to the Triumvirate of
Rome. Thus the education given by the Fathers had envenomed with the
poison of self-love the blood of this gifted boy, it raged within him
as a burning fire, and never left him a moment's peace. Something had
ever to be learnt, something ever to be done, which none other could
do, and he only felt happy in the task of increasing the difference
between that which he could do, and that which the others could, so
that none could be even distantly compared to him.

The education of ambitious minds, determined to render subject to
themselves the sleepy mediocrity found in other schools, was ever a
principal object of the Order, and this result of education had been
brilliantly attained in Paul. He could be named a pattern scholar of
the Institution.

If on the one side the self-consciousness of the young man had been
excited to a degree verging on presumption, so on the other side had
the moral nature been rendered slavishly subservient. The Fathers
of the Society had based the education of their pupils on the
psychologically thoroughly correct idea that nothing brings man down to
such unconditional dependence as consciousness: the superiors know thy
whole past, they know all thy errors, thy secret inclinations and sins,
thou art absolutely transparent to them. The first thing therefore that
had been required of Paul as indeed of every other pupil on his entry
into College, was a general confession, in which he had to mention not
only his faults but his preferences. With a child's hand and with his
hot southern phantasy had he noted down all his vices, and owing to the
mental excitement caused by the death of his sister and his beloved
mother, the despairing boy had portrayed himself as a young miscreant.
The Rector praised his candor and the severity with which he judged
himself and recommended him one of the teachers of the establishment as
confessor and spiritual guide. He then learnt from his school-mates,
that the secret of the confessional usually observed so strictly did
not avail in the College, but that according to the revelations made
the confessor drew up his report to the Rector. He was henceforth
called upon for a daily record of his actions, thoughts, and feelings,
and a strict watch was observed as to whether a pupil kept back or
omitted anything. At the same time an especial monitor was appointed
over each individually, whose duty it was to watch, reprove, or
denounce. This system was all the more pernicious as regarded the
relation of the boys one towards another, as the accused was allowed to
escape unpunished, if he could manage to prove the accuser guilty of
the same misdemeanor, whilst if he could not the punishment was meted
out by a powerful boy known as the "Brother Corrector." Under such
perpetual supervision was Paul brought up, and at the same time
educated in spying others. He was never allowed to enter into
conversation, without also listening to what his neighbour was saying,
and under no circumstance could he keep to himself anything that had
come to his knowledge. In this manner the superiors obtained an
information concerning their pupils which left nothing to be desired.
With one ear the confessions and self-made acknowledgments of the
pupil, with the other the reports and tale-bearings against his
school-mates being considered, each character lay exposed before them
to its very roots. The pupils however learnt, to use Ignatius' own
expression, as they grew older "the difficult art of watching over the
portals of the senses" and in this way only did they preserve a scrap
of freedom, of self-dependent reflection, of private conscience, a
little of the individuality which the inner man always demands,
whenever they succeeded in rendering themselves as impenetrable as
possible both to teachers and companions. Paul was naturally of a frank
chivalrous disposition, but these good qualities shrivelled up in the
glow of ambition, fanned by his teachers. In perpetual contest to
preserve the first place against his fellow-pupils, he had opponents
who were dangerous to him, and it was natural that this ambitious child
judged them more harshly and represented them in darker colors than
those who acknowledged his superiority without jealousy, and whose
mediocrity was to him a foil to be wished for. If he unsparingly, in
his sinister ascetic humor, denounced his crimes, should therefore his
rivals make themselves out to be better than they were? Eagerly did he
watch, listen, spy, denounce, and if one of the rivals was once again
through a lucky tale-bearing brought to the "bench of misfortune" or
the "corner of disgrace" he felt a detestable contentment. He was
therefore anything but loved by his colleagues, and the nickname "the
Censor" which they had bestowed on him, expressed the mixture of
respect and distrust they felt for him. It was only with time that the
young zealot perceived how that he, by every romantic confession he
made concerning the devilish abysses in his inner self, had fashioned
so many chains which fettered him to the Society of Jesus; for based on
these confessions the Rector drew up his reports to the Provincial of
the Order and these communications ever increasing accompanied the
pupil on his way through life. Wherever an Affiliated might go, he
could not escape his past life, whether he settled in the new or old
world. Everywhere the eye of the Order was fixed upon him, everywhere
was he accompanied by his former confessions, in which were marked out
the dark points of his life, everywhere was a fresh book opened for his
every deed. Did any one of those entangled in these toils feel a desire
to break away, he knew but too well, that the Order had it in its power
to destroy him morally. But these paroxysms had not yet been felt at
that time by Paolo. He had been filled with a consciousness of the
importance of the Order, and he knew, that he had been called to a most
brilliant career in connection with a Society spread over the new and
old world. The training which he had received rendered him thoroughly
aware of his superiority over the rest of the world and over those
children of man addicted to the ways of simplicity. Accustomed for
years to spy and be spyed, he had assumed a self-command which
protected him like an impenetrable iron mask against any attack. It had
long become a second nature to him, to utter no word that might be used
against him, and even as little to let any escape which he might use
against another. Kindly feelings and interests he knew nothing of All
that he had brought with him from his father's house, love of family,
home, and brother, had been consumed by the blast of ambition. God made
the heart of man straight, but it learns many arts in the school of
ambition. As a fresh, fantastic, good and beauteous child had Paolo
entered College, he left it a pale, ambitious overwrought champion of
the Church. He was in his twentieth year, when the Rector of the
College declared his education completed, and the school awarded him
all the prizes which it had to bestow. It is true that he knew nothing
of that inward satisfaction, which usually accompanies the attainment
of such an object. The vocation of his life had been up to that time to
be _primus omnium_, and he would have preferred remaining thus for the
rest of his life. He had no family who desired to render his gifts of
use for this or that interest. The exhortations of the Holy Ignatius to
speak of relations only as relations which one formerly had, and the
doctrines of the order that the dependence on flesh and blood was one
of the strongest chains with which Satan bound us to earth, met no
opposition from him as orphan. Homeless as he was, he agreed to become
a novice, and was placed among the "Indifferents" who still had the
choice open of returning to the world or remaining in the church. The
study of philosophy and theology was continued, broken into by services
in the hospitals of Venice, by pilgrimages to neighbouring spots famed
for miraculous appearances, and by begging in the town, all which
duties Paul went through with the same self-negation, which his
ambition and contempt of men and life infused in him. At one moment in
the sick room holding the crucifix before the closing eyes of some
dying man, at another patiently in school repeating texts and prayers
suitable to the lisping lips of children, teaching in the churches the
catechism and imparting religious instruction, going from house to
house begging for alms, or alone in his cell, fasting, praying, and
scourging himself. His exemplary zeal brought it to pass, that at the
termination of his first probationary year, the Rector declared, that
he should be allowed to undertake a sphere of work outside the college,
which the General who had arrived that very day from Rome would point
out to those about to quit. Immediately, after that this communication
had been made to him, Paul was conducted to the Oratorium of the
College, where he found the whole institution assembled. The scholars
sat in close rows before the very rostra from whence Paolo had uttered
with his young lips so much venerable wisdom. The women and maidens of
Venice crowded the seats assigned to the public, and near the walls
thronged citizens and nobles and even many members of the highest
offices of the state. Under the platform numerous wealthy and noble
patrons of the College paid homage to the General present from Rome,
who clothed in his cardinal's robes, acknowledged with austere
condescension the salutations of the Signoria. On this day also, did a
scholar ascend the rostra to greet in a well turned latin Ode the
General as the honored guest of the house and to praise his virtues.
According to the programme another address should have followed, but
these _curialia_ did not seem tasteful to the severe old man. He made
an imperious sign of the hand and himself ascended the tribune. The
stately prince of the Church, a tall ascetic man with harsh features
and fiery eyes began in a hard loud voice a powerful sermon on the text
"the harvest is plenteous but the laborers are few." He drew a picture
of the duties of the Church in the lands of the faithful and of the
heathen, in the new and old worlds, by Turks and by Idol-worshippers,
and described the wants of the copper-colored heathens, who to-day like
the Macedonian of the time who appeared to the apostle at Troas, called
to the scholars of the Institution "come help us." Going into details
he stated that the mission in Malabar had lost through a rising of the
population half of the messengers of the Faith lately send out. For
those who might be called upon to fill up these vacancies, the same
martyrs' crown and the same eternal life, awaited. Then he called out
ten of the pupils by name and asked them: "Are you willing to go to
those heathen coasts, to teach Christ, to preach and to die?" The ten
young men stood up and answered with one voice: "Yes, General." A
shudder ran through the assembly, and in the benches occupied by the
ladies no eye was dry. The old man continued: "In Vera Cruz the yellow
fever has carried off two thirds of our Convent. The College is empty.
The pestilence has ceased, but will return next summer with double
severity. The Rector proposes the following Novices to fill the
vacancies," and again the hard old man read certain names, in a harsh
voice. "Are you willing to sail thither, to preach the Word, and to
die, if such be the will of God?" The young men had risen from their
seats and they also answered: "Yes, General."

"Worse than heathens or pestilence," continued the aged Cardinal, "is
the heresy which rages among the savage nations of Germany on the other
side of the Alps. Those whom we send thither, must be armed with all
the weapons of the mind, they must perhaps for a time even lay aside
the garb of the holy Ignatius and each await his especial danger." A
number of names were then called for this service, among them that of
Paolo Laurenzano. These young men likewise answered the question as to
their readiness, with one voice: "Yes, General."

"You have sworn, my dearly beloved Sons," proceeded the Cardinal, "to
die for the sacred cause of the Church. That is not however the most
difficult, it is on the contrary the easiest part of your task. Much
more difficult is, that which from this hour is incumbent upon you, to
live for the Church. To live as if you lived not. You know the vows, in
which you have already been approved through the noviciate. In place of
poverty many of you will enter into palaces and rich abbeys, and
perhaps you will be commanded to share this luxury for a season. In
this apparent wealth you will observe your vow of poverty, if you, as
the Apostle says, enjoy as if you enjoyed it not; if you are, to use a
comparison made by our Father Ignatius, as a column, which suffers
itself to be clothed or unclothed, decked in rags or precious stones,
without remarking or knowing anything about it, without requiring, or
desiring anything. Then indeed in spite of overflowing tables, purple
and fine linen you will be observing your vow of poverty. Others on the
other hand will have in the woven huts of the Indians, or in the basket
houses of the Mongolians scarcely enough to cover their nakedness or
appease their hunger. There will be times when a stone will be their
pillow and a handful of moss their food. If however at those moments,
they direct their attention to trying to render their lot easier, or if
they, instead of being devoted by day and by night to their mission,
rather let their hearts yearn for the few things which they still have,
so will they break their vow of poverty, although they are poor. That
they should inwardly free themselves from any joy at possession, is
that, which their vow requires of them."

"Secondly our Founder wished his disciples to shine through the vow of
obedience. Therewith the outer is not alone meant, that you should
unconditionally perform that which is commanded you. In this manner the
dog obeys his master, there would be nothing excellent in that. But
that obedience should rank as a virtue, the inferior must make the will
of his superior his own, he must sacrifice his own insight, so that he
should not only will, but also think as does his superior, and he must
hold as right and true all that the latter orders and thinks. All your
courage depends on the simplicity of blind obedience. 'Incomplete
subjection,' says the holy Ignatius, 'has two eyes, but for its own
destruction; complete subjection is blind, but in that consists its
wisdom and completeness.' You should be filled with a blind impulse of
obedience, as Abraham was, when willing to slay his only son, because
to obey he considered as a delight. The obedience which made him
righteous was that he did what appeared wicked to him, because
commanded by God, for goodness is not in itself good, but only because
God has commanded it in his law. Abraham moreover knew that this law
did not bind God, and he wished for no personal comprehension, no will,
no love, no conscience, when God had spoken, only obedience, and
therein consisted his righteousness. Whosoever therefore will oppose
his own inward light to the Light of the Order is a fool, who wishes to
look at the sun by lamplight, and he who suffers from qualms of
conscience at the orders of his Superior, should remember, that it is
one of the great privileges of our Society, that the members, who are
scrupulous by nature, may according to papal assertion calm themselves
on all points by the decision of their superiors. That is however the
highest step of obedience, which we all have to endeavor to reach, that
such scruples may never arise within us, but that a complete uniformity
of understanding between our Superior and ourselves may take place, so
that we are of one mind, of one and the same will with him, that we
hold all that he orders to be reasonable, and take his judgement only
as the rule for our own. If in obeying thou dost not subject thy reason
as well as thy will, so is thy obedience then no complete burnt
offering, in that thou hast not offered thy noblest part to God, thy
reason, and a sacrifice, in the which thou keepest back the best for
thyself is not acceptable to God."

That was the blessing with which within the same hour Paul left the
College, without taking any long farewell, to begin his journey in
company with a stately and older member of the order, who called
himself Doctor Antonio, over the Alps to the seat of the Bishops of
Speyer. All this appeared to him as a dream, and the suddenness of his
freedom came over him almost as a terror. With closed eyes the young
man passed through the fairest cities of Italy and the smiling plains
of Verona. In vain did the peach-trees stretch out to him their ruddy
blossoms, and the citrons on the trellis-work were past by unnoticed.
His eye was entirely turned within himself and on the duties which
awaited him. A feeling of incapacity and fear of the future entered for
the first time the breast of the learned youth. To cheer him up, his
older companion a lively man with sharp, mobile features enumerated all
the privileges to which Paul had a right even as a young novice, member
of the Society of Jesus. He could absolve in all cases, even in those
where the Bishop had refused to grant absolution, he could declare
shore-robbers, convict-slaves, and heretics free from excommunication,
he could dispense from vows in case a pilgrimage to Rome could not be
undertaken. Even engagements entered into on oath he could declare null
and void, in case they militated against the welfare of the Church.
Should he finally attain to the higher ranks, he could then grant
dispensation from all church punishments even for those given as
penalties for schism and heresy, yea even for the falsification of
apostolic letters, he was then in a position to invest with the effect
of deep penitence an insufficient repentance and to turn mortal sins
into venial, not to make any mention of the profound mysteries of the
Sacraments. All this he might and could do, or should soon have the
power to do, and instead of being proud thereat and raising his head
several inches higher, he dragged along weary and heavy-hearted by the
side of his talkative companion, who inwardly thought that he did not
see why in Venice they had set so much importance on this melancholy
dreamer. Reading their prayers, or exchanging monosyllables the two
sons of Loyola had ascended the steep rocks at whose base foam the
green waters of Lake Garda. Then it came out during the evening at the
inn at Arco, that Brother Paul had not even noticed that during the day
they had passed through water, and over rocks and snow. His companion
shook his head and thought: he will indeed become a Doctor Ecstaticus.
The following day he therefore altered his tone and whilst wandering
through the dreary Sarcathal to Trent, Father Antonius began to praise
the especial protection, which the gracious Mother had ever extended
over the Society of Jesus. The Madonna had herself watched over the
blessed Ignatius during his last illness, as she now shielded his Sons
under her mantle. She appeared lately in a vision to a brother in
Catalonia, who was so entranced at her unspeakable beauty that he was
seen floating in the air stretching his arms out towards her. In the
Collegio at Rome lived a holy penitent in his cell without any food
whatever, for the holy Virgin appeared to him night after night and
suckled him at her breast as if he were an infant. Countless miracles
could the loquacious Father relate, worked by pieces of her veil, or
the fair hair which St. Mark had brought with him to Venice. Maria
should therefore ever be an object of especial veneration for the
order, for like the Pope she wore a threefold diadem. She was the
daughter of the Father, the mother of the Son, the bride of the Holy
Ghost. Without her God had not been able to create the world, for had
she rejected the angel Gabriel, the Son could never have become man,
mankind could never have been redeemed, and God could not have created
the world without everlasting torment, which his love would have
forbidden Him. Therefore did the whole world worship Mary, and the
stars were only the large rose-wreath, which the Angels completed, and
the milky way the tassels thereof In the rocky districts natural
temples to Mary were to be found which even the wild beasts reverenced,
and lately a young shepherd discovered one of these Madonna images in a
stalactite cavern in Rhaetia, by following one of his sheep, who daily
at Vesper-time disappeared into this cavern, and the youth was
astonished to see how the lamb bowed its knee and bleated at the altar
of Mary as if to greet her. The water which was gathered from this
cavern was efficacious against fever and gout, against fires, and it
healed demoniacs. Yea it even worked on the soul, for a violent sinner
who for years had neglected his easter duties, drank of this water
without knowing it, and immediately the blessed potion took effect and
he hastened to the confessional.

Father Antonio had almost talked himself out of breath in his praise of
Maria, for the way up hill was steep. As he now stood still and
inquired of the silent novice what he had to say in reference to all
these miracles of the kingdom of Grace, the latter quoted as answer a
verse out of Tibullus to Isis the Mother of the Gods. "That thou canst,
testify all the tablets, which hang painted to thy honour around the
Temple." By this Father Antonio knew that this silent youth was no mere
visionary, and from Trent through the bare valley of the Adda to
Bolseno, whence Father Antonio diverged towards the snow-covered Pass
of the Brenner, the conversation became monosyllabic. Only on the other
side of the Alps, behind Innsbruck, did the companions break into a
lively quarrel. They had remained in the town quietly, as Brother
Antonio had business to attend to. His purse was as he said, quite
empty, and to his astonishment Paul found himself woke up at early dawn
and bidden to hurry away, as the innkeeper must be robbed of the amount
of his bill. The Novice raised no opposition, but when his Superior
left the door, he laid on the table one of the two gold pieces, which
had been given him in Venice to defray immediate necessities, so that
the innkeeper might find his expenses paid. Father Antonius must have
suspected something of the kind. He returned to the room, to fetch
something that he had forgotten, and when they reached the mainroad he
quietly opened his cloth, and added Paul's gold piece to the few
farthings left therein. Paul in a rage insisted on returning to give to
the hotel-keeper what belonged to him, Antonio asked on the other hand:
"Is it better that our holy missions should suffer delay, and perhaps
hundreds of souls more be sent to hell, or that this tavern-keeper
should lose a few shillings? Let us choose the lesser evil, and by
cheating a scoundrel, it is very probable that we become more pleasing
in God's sight."

"But if he follows after us, and accuses us before the magistrate of
the next village," replied Paul angrily.

"Then we can swear that you laid a gold piece on the table to satisfy
his demands."

"But how can you deny having taken it up again."

"When I deny it, I think within my own mind to 'taken up' to add the
words 'and not put in my purse,' for as you see I wrap it up in this
piece of cloth."

"These Dominican tricks are known, and you will be required to swear
without any mental reservation."

"Even in such cases one can swear 'without unjust reservation,' for
mine would be especially just, as I am acting in God's cause."

"And do you imagine to be able to bring the heretics back to the cause
of God with such miserable casuistry?" asked the enraged Paul.

"No, my son, I am not such a fool, we shall convert the Germans, by
lighting such a fire in Germany, as will cause the angels to draw in
their toes, and melt the stars in Heaven."

"You have your own peculiar way, of caring for Germany's happiness."

The old man laughed. "Do you think I have climbed these rocks to make
Cimbrians and Teutons happy. I will once more bring back the Roman
dominion which the Emperor Constantine bequeathed to the Pope, so that
we do not, when Christ returns as Caesar, as depicted by Michael Angelo
in his Last Judgment, or as Emperor on a white horse, as the revelation
of St. John describes him, have to appear before Him and say: '_Salve
semper Auguste_, but we have lost the two Germanies.' If however you
hold to rendering people happy, go over to the Waldenses."

Paul was silent. It was impossible to take this man seriously, but it
cut him to the quick to see such a fantastic Being wearing the dress of
his order. As however they sat down to breakfast in the next village,
sounds of loud voices were heard at the door. The two pilgrims
recognized the voice of the tavern-keeper of Innsbruck, who was
inquiring about them. "Give me your purse," said Brother Antonio
coolly, "that I may satisfy him." Unwillingly Paul handed it over to
him and Antonio disappeared. A short time afterwards the magistrate of
the village appeared with the inn-keeper and began cross-questioning
Paul. Paul knew from this that his companion had run away and cheated
him out of his money; calmly he ripped from out of the lining of his
cloak one of his last pieces of money which he had secreted there, and
paid the reckoning. He was thus luckily able to say that through this
means he had escaped without imprisonment or bodily chastisement. His
desire to overtake his escaped companion, was naturally not very great.
Instead of travelling north towards Munich, as his companion had
proposed, he took a western course through the Vorarlberg towards the
Rhine valley, and arrived at the College at Speyer even before the
allotted time. The Rector heard his report coldly, and said:

"Thou hast come out of thy probation badly, brother Paul, and broken
through the rules in two instances. Thou knowest that the members of
our order must ever travel in couples, as the Saviour sent out his
disciples two by two. Thou hast also sinned against thy vow of
obedience. Thou still thinkest to oppose thy conscience, thy reason,
thy will to those of thy superior. The Holy Ignatius did not say
however without cause: 'When God has placed over thee even an
unreasoning animal, do not refuse to obey it in all things as thy guide
and teacher, God has so ordered it,' and again he writes: 'If the
Church of Rome declares as white, what appears to thee black, thou
shalt not believe thy own eyes, but those of the Church of Rome.'
Instead of this thou hast set thy own inward light above the revealed
command, as do the heretics. We know now, how we stand with thee."

Thus Paul had to begin his stay in Speyer with severe exercises, which
were to punish him for something, which still appeared to him as the
usual and plain mode of dealing of every honest man. The Rector
perceived however that here he must not draw the bow string too tight,
and therefore the universally beloved Father Aloysius was appointed as
Paul's confessor and spiritual guide, his mild and calm nature soon
winning the latter's confidence. Paul did not make any further mention
of the annoying event which happened on his journey. He had now learnt
that a monk must submit to an injury, without complaint. Other sorrows
however tortured him much more than the question whether he or this
Brother Antonio had been in the right. As he finally concluded to
frankly confess to this worthy Father Aloysius how it stood with him,
to lament to him the feeling of emptiness and solitude which weighed
him down, to acknowledge the utter absence of joy and hope which had
come over him, his confessor made him no reproachful reprimand, but
said gently and kindly to him: "Be of good cheer, my son. Many, many a
young man has been tormented by the grievous thoughts, whether
unendless sorrow and heaviness awaited him, who however stood on the
brink of a richly endowed life; thou knowest however, that the morning
star rises above all these dismal fogs and lowering clouds." These
kindly words distilled themselves like balm over the mind of Paul, and
he had never before experienced so vividly the advantage of auricular
confession. Father Aloysius became a shining model of one fulfilling
the most severe duties. He would become like to this aged delicate man,
who devoted every moment of his life to others, in the care of his
penitents, his poor, his sick. Unreservedly did he describe in his next
report these inward sensations concerning his mode of life. The effect
of this confession was a removal to Heidelberg. The Superior found that
the young Brother Paul was wasting his life in fruitless inward
contemplation; the young wine must fill some new bottle, lest it be
spoiled, moreover the peace-loving method of which Father Aloysius was
the model, was not to be recommended to the young man in these moments
of warfare. So Paul was commanded to accept a call to Heidelberg, which
had just been offered to him. "You will have there a worldly-wise
superior," said Father Aloysius when wishing him farewell, "the Doctor
Pigavetta as he is known in the world, and I fear muchly he has made
the world a part of his individual self, still he is more active than I
am, and perhaps his unrest will be of more use to thee, than the
monotonous intercourse with an old man like myself, who has perchance
already wearied thee. Shouldst thou however be in need of inward peace,
thou wilt ever be welcomed by Brother Aloysius."

A straight level road brought Paul from Speyer to Heidelberg, and this
time he was determined to blindly obey his new Superior, as prescribed
by his vow. Modestly did he knock at the door of the house near the
Klingenthor. His tranquillity was sorely tried, when on the door
opening he found standing before him his travelling companion Doctor
Antonio. He had on the same velvet cap and dark cloak, which he had
worn on the journey, and noticed with visible complacency the horror of
the novice. Paul composed himself and asked in a dry tone to see Doctor
Pigavetta. "Go up stairs and you will find him," answered Brother
Antonio coolly. A number of spiral staircases led Paul to the upper
part of a tower, where he found Dr. Pigavetta's name inscribed on a
door. At his knock a well known voice bade him enter, and as he opened
the door he saw before him the same man whom he had met below in
travelling costume, seated near a table in a long dressing gown, and
apparently deeply studying some books and papers. This appearance
completely confused him. Which was the veritable Antonio? He bowed his
head and waited patiently till this mysterious stranger chose to
address him. "Your credentials," said the Superior in a cold tone of
command. Paul handed his cypher-letter with trembling hands. After that
the former had read it through, he said with an expression of quiet
contempt: "I think, young Brother, that our first acquaintance will
render obedience to your new Superior easier for all times. You may
depend upon it that whenever I give astonishing commands I have my
reason for doing so, and you will henceforth be more sparing of your
little bit of worldly wisdom. That in Innsbruck it was not for the sake
of a few pennies, you might have discovered from a man of my
appearance, had you not been a short-sighted bookworm. Now that you
have acquired this knowledge through your own wisdom, you will perhaps
kindly remember your vow of obedience. In any case we know each other
well enough, to accommodate ourselves to each other." Pigavetta was
silent and a sarcastic smile curled his upper lip. So this was the same
Dr. Antonio with whom he had travelled, into whose care he was again
committed. Inwardly Paul boiled over with wild rage, but he would give
his superior no cause, to report him again for disobedience. He
remained standing in the same humble position adopted by novices before
the initiated. The joker in the former soon came again to the surface.
Laughing he clapt the young man on the shoulder and said: "Be merry, be
merry, little brother. 'Jovial people are worth twice as much as sad
ones,' said the Holy Ignatius, and our vows do not require us to hang
down our heads. Thus I welcome you to Heidelberg, and first of all you
must pledge me." Then the old Jesuit took a bottle of water, poured out
its contents into a vessel in the wall, turned on a little tap and
immediately red wine flowed out. "Drink to our welfare," he said, as if
there was nothing remarkable in all this. Paul sipped, but as the wine
was strong and with a bouquet, he put down his half emptied glass on
the table and said: "Pardon me, Reverend Father, I am not accustomed to
wine."

"As you will," replied the Doctor. He then took the glass, poured the
wine back into the vessel in the which was the water, opened the same
tap out of which wine had previously flowed, filled the glass with pure
water, with which he rinced it and placed it on one side. Paul felt
that his head was turning with all this excitement, and as he leant
against a chair which stood before him, it began to play and sing. "You
feel unwell," said Pigavetta, "go out into the air, and come to the
Collegium at the hour of Vespers. I will then introduce you to the
teachers." He was thus dismissed. As he however reached the house-door
as in a dream. Dr. Antonio stood suddenly before him in his travelling
clothes. He appeared to have returned from a walk and said calmly: "It
is well that we meet again, here is the gold piece which I borrowed of
you at Innsbruck," he then coolly turned his back on him.

Paul stood before this uncanny house with a dull feeling of
stupefaction. The wine had gone to his head. He hastened therefore to a
clear little brook on his right to bathe his temples and wash this
dream away from his eyes. On thinking calmly over the matter he felt
very certain that Dr. Antonio had been making a fool of him. The trick
of turning water into wine together with the musical chair was too
childish to impress him, but that which rendered him most sceptical was
the returned purse. As Antonio had not paid the innkeeper at Innsbruck,
he therefore owed him two gold pieces and a lot of small change, it
might be also, that the money returned to him was a lucky-penny, but
previous proofs did not seem to confirm this. The Professor's magic
arts appeared to the novice as being of a dubious character. The double
appearance in the study and at the door Paul finally explained as being
one of those contrivances which he had often seen as a part of his
brother's scaffolding works. There was evidently a lift in the Tower,
by which Pigavetta could get up and down much quicker than his visitors
who had to use the winding staircase. The more however that his
superstitious fears were allayed, the more did the feeling of
discomfort increase, at being placed in a strange country under a man
who bore two names, calculated very inexactly, and either possessed or
pretended to possess the gift of a double identity.

Nevertheless the new calling which he had accepted did away for a short
time with his melancholy. For a few months all went on well, when
however the first winter came to an end, and the mild blasts came over
from Italy, the old feeling of despondency once more seized the lonely
Youth. The dark thoughts, which had been dispelled by his intercourse
with the excellent Father Aloysius returned with twofold power. He
wandered about with an inward wretchedness, which crippled his every
action. Such was the condition in the which Felix found him, as they
met once again after so long a separation.

The malady which had befallen Paul, is better described as an
opposition to his brother's health, who had already spent a winter with
him in Venice.

Felice had followed Paul to Venice, and the young artist had been full
of ardor to make use of a better instruction in that mechanical part of
his profession, now offered to him at the Collegio. Soon Felix became
almost more thankfully submissive to the order than was his brother
Paul. The Architect learnt here the theory of his art, mathematics,
geometry, mechanics, without a knowledge of which he had ever remained
a mere dabbler. His mind found nourishment in the rhetorical and
poetical exercises, and after he had laid aside his chisel and apron,
it was his delight and highest joy to hear in the College lectures on
philosophy, literature and poetry. He knew little of the inward
hierarchic motive-power, and when he by means of the Society's
influence received a brilliant offer in the Netherlands, he left the
College with a feeling of gratitude, which inwardly was boundless,
although he seldom found opportunity of proving it. The exact contrary
was the case with his brother. The last moments of his stay in College
had been a mere tribulation, for the long years of ambitious excitement
began now to tell. Accustomed to applause, even the highest measure
which could be bestowed on a novice no longer satisfied him. The
clearness in the exposition of science, which delighted his more
ignorant brother, appeared to him already superficial; the bands, which
his brother did not even perceive, began already to oppress him, and
inwardly less subservient to the Order than Felice, so much the more
did he wish outwardly to serve it, thinking thus to subdue his inward
uneasiness by a galling outward activity, to deaden the feeling of
dissatisfaction, to appease the hunger after happiness which had
awakened in him. Therefore now in Heidelberg did he passionately buckle
to the work assigned to him, without troubling himself much about
Pigavetta. After all the time of preparation he found himself opposed
to a task, which was important if rendered so by him. For the outside
world an inferior member of a theological seminary, he felt himself an
historical lever, which was designed to throw an entire people into
other religious grooves. The idea was sufficiently phantastic, that a
tutor of philology should from this subordinate position demolish the
Church of the Kurfuerst, but Paolo clung to the maxim of the founder of
his order, "should God bid you cross the sea, go you in a ship, but if
there be no ship, then cross on a board." In Speyer he had received the
order to enter for the degree of Master of Arts at the University of
the Kurfuerst, which to him was mere child's play. Pigavetta had imposed
on him the part of a good Calvinist, for which violent abuse of the
Lutherans was all that was necessary. But now his Superior laid before
him an order in cypher from the Provincial which commanded him to pass
an examination before the Council of the reformed Church _pro
ministerio_, and to take the position of clergyman in Heidelberg. For
the first time he hesitated. The better man in him reacted against the
hierarchical. He was willing to play the comedy of Calvinism for a
time, but he was too proud to make it the purport of his life. Being
told that he must become a reformed clergyman so as to better spread
the Catholic dogma, awoke in him a feeling of discomfort, even though
he shared the opinion of his teachers, that every means was good which
proved of service to the highest good, the Church. But the proposition
found a powerful ally in the oratory lying fallow within him, and which
longed for an auditorium, a pulpit and the applause so thirsted after.
He was already weary of explaining the Latin authors to the sleepy
scholars of the Sapientia College. With what an enthusiasm did he daily
introduce descriptions of the splendor of Italy in his lectures, so as
to call forth a home-sickness for Rome in the hearts of the young
Germans,--they however yawned in his face. With what ingenuity had he
found pieces out of Seneca and Plato, to which he could append
quotations from the Church Fathers in support of the Catholic
dogma,--the worthy scholars cut large holes in the oaken benches and
thought about, not his conclusions extracted from Festino and Barbara,
but of a barmaid of the same name in the adjacent pot-house. In lofty
sounding words did he glorify the great men of the Church's past, the
scholars threw paper balls, or mutually smeared each others' seats with
cobbler's wax. Whether Rome, or Wittenberg, that was for him the
momentous question of the day, to them it was of much more importance,
whether the beer at the Schiltzenhof or at the Hirsch was better.
Evidently the heretics were not to be gotten at through the male sex of
their hopeful progenies. He was soon very tired of "nipping the horn of
the bull," as says the Italian proverb. Then came the unexpected
command of his Superior to turn the full force of his activity to the
pulpit. Disgusted at a want of success among the sleepy youths, and
famishing for praise, the order given him to undertake the ambiguous
_role_ rendered his decision easier. His inward scruples were soon
silenced, as his eloquence received the highest meed of praise. Hearts
were moved by the melodious voice of the Italian, by the grace of his
appearance, by the charm of his foreign accent, and Paolo's bold dreams
of a counter-reformation appeared about to be consummated when he saw,
how Sunday after Sunday the ranks of his hearers filled more and more.
The intoxication of success deafened the voice of conscience, which
warned him, that he was in reality carrying on a very critical line of
action, and he was therefore little pleased when the Countess Palatine
singled him out for the Stift at Neuburg, and took him away from a
career so full of promise. To win back a lost convent already seemed to
him as too contemptible a matter for a man of his gifts, and it went
almost against his grain to be compelled to learn once more the almost
forgotten services of the Mass, and to hold a surreptitious service,
which owing to the Kurfuerst's hatred of the "damnable bigotry" might
cost him dear. Even the confessions of the old ladies, their thoughts,
the monotonous relations of their troubled dispositions, their inward
sorrows and sore temptations were not quickening to him. Young himself
he felt an attraction towards young people. Owing to this very human
cause the instruction which he had to impart to the young maidens of
the cloister-school, was not so burdensome as that bestowed on the
classes of the Sapientia. Fresh and blooming as beauteous buds just
bursting from their shells sat the girls and children before him, and
listened eagerly to every word he spoke. They understood intuitively
what he wished, and in that breath of love and admiration, which met
him on all sides, it seemed to him as if his parched soul lived again,
and as if feelings awoke once more, which had slumbered since he saw
the pale thin woman, who had watched over him during his youth, borne
away in her coffin. If when in the College he had rejoiced that his
lessons were over, now did he willingly place himself at the head of
his young ones, and accompany them in their walks around the convent
meadows. Above at the spring house, lower down sitting under the
spreading beeches he taught the children to build altars, and wind
wreaths. He showed them how the beloved angels vanished through bushes,
or looked down as clouds from heaven and bore away a greeting from each
child to the Mother of God. At other times he drilled the young ones
into forming processions and pilgrimages, teaching them to sing
guileless texts adapted from catholic books. Thus could the children
play at being catholics without the parents becoming aware of it. It is
true that once the miller's wife complained that her little daughter
had burnt the name of the Holy Mary in her arm, and that Reinhard had
cut the same in an apple-tree. The Domina however calmed her by saying
that through that the little maiden would not get a fever, and that the
apple-tree would bear a double crop.

The Magister had also quiet talks concerning the welfare of the soul
with the older girls, and the maidens acknowledged, that they had never
before conceived how bad, how in reality wicked they were, but their
heavenly good Magister knew how to console them so lovingly, that they
had never been so happy as at the present moment. But how came it to
pass that about this time Lydia Erast took to complaining that recently
in their games the less agreeable positions were always given to her,
and that when playing: "Do not look round, the Fox is about," Clara and
Bertha, who used to be her best friends, now struck out at her more
spitefully even than did the others? How came it also that the usually
so grave Magister came at times out of the class rooms with a happy
smile such as had never been seen on his lips when leaving the
Sapientia, and instead of reciting his breviary warbled the Odes to
Lalage to the astonished beeches? How all this came about, he himself
knew not. At first his eye had rested unwittingly on this fair head, as
a young teacher when giving the first lesson, out of embarrassment
fixes his look on some bright face, a particular pillar, or the corner
of one of the benches. Next the bright blue eye fixed on him with
touching devotion had attracted him, and soon he had to acknowledge to
himself, that he especially directed his teaching to that sweet child,
that only for her did he prepare the substance of his discourse, that
he only saw her, only thought of her, only heard her answers, though
she in no wise surpassed the others in mental acquirements. An
indefinite yearning seized him, to see her always before him in all the
classes. Thus the misery, which rendered his days peaceless and his
nights sleepless began, and cast him into that inwardly at variance,
gloomy state of mind, in the which his brother found him.




                              CHAPTER VII.


To be questioned about a secret, which one conceals from one's self
often resembles the fatal word of the fairy tale, which wakes the
Sleeping Beauty from her trance, or dispels the dreams of the Seven
Sleepers. This horrible word, which had aroused him from his dangerous
dawning life, and cast him out into the sharp morning air and glaring
light of day, had on this eventful day twice fallen on the ear of the
young Priest, and he would not hear it, as he desired not to awake.
This was indeed rather the cause why Paolo Laurenzano had received his
brother, whom he was in reality delighted to see once again, so coldly
and distantly, than the coolness befitting a monk as regards the ties
of the flesh. It had not been necessary for him to be informed of the
raillery to which Lydia was exposed on his account. As scholar of the
Collegio, he had been accustomed to have ears and eyes about him, and
had also heard the name "Wegewarte" as he directed his steps that
morning towards his apartment, and as he had often met on his way the
fair child, and had exchanged a few kindly words with her, he
understood the state of the case at once, and turned back through the
wood towards the public road without entering his own room. In vain had
he endeavored to banish the hideous word "Wegewarte" from his memory.
It was clear that every child in the convent knew how matters which he
dreaded admitting to himself stood between him and Lydia. Then his
brother had bluntly at once hinted at his well kept secret, and he had
angrily repelled the hand, because perhaps it alone had any right to
lift the veil. With a feeling of unspeakable misery and bitterness he
now stood alone on the road gazing at the river. Had he wished to
represent clearly to himself the feeling which oppressed him, he would
perhaps have thus addressed himself: "Beloved Magister Laurenzano, the
pious Fathers in the College taught thee, that deception is a weapon
with which a wise man can overthrow a hundred fools. But this weapon is
sharp and double-edged, and often wounds him, who carries it concealed
about him, even before he can turn it against others. Hadst thou boldly
appeared in thy veritable character of Roman priest, this fair German
maiden had never gazed on thee with such eyes, and had never stolen thy
heart from thee; or if thou wert, what thou appearest to be, a
Calvinistic clergyman, thou wouldst go tomorrow to her father and
frankly ask for the hand of his daughter, and I know he would not say
thee, nay. Whom hast thou therefore most grievously injured by thy
deception? Thyself, thyself alone. But why not put an end to these
deceits and frauds?" Had the dejected man wished to render himself a
plain answer, thus would he have spoken: "I, Paolo Laurenzano, primus
omnium of the College at Venice, am too good for the people here. I
have not worked day and night and denied myself all the joys of youth,
to now throw up my career on account of a fair child. Every Priest
wears his nimbus under his tonsure, so was I taught and so I learnt. Of
the generalship, of the scarlet hat, of the Tiara was the song ever
dinned into my ears, and now shall I end in this excommunicated land,
in this dull German town my days as tutor of these unlicked whelps?
Why, even the feeling of homesickness for the sunny skies of Italy
prevents me from accepting a belief, which would ever prevent my return
thither."

Something of this unconscious wish roused him to-day from his
inertness, and as a keen east wind blew towards him from the mountains,
a more powerful energy obtained the mastery within him. "As a mighty
conqueror will I return some day to Italy, and not remain sequestered
in the fogs of this Odenwald. How would it be if I brought about a
great revival? If I, as did the Archbishop Borromeo in Veltlin, could
only effect a great conversion among heretics, of women especially?"
The thought excited him. "Thou must act, not dream. Thou must press
forward to the attack, not be ever putting it off. If they drive thee
away, if they slay thee, so much the better. What is this life worth,
that we should not lay it down in the breach for our flag?" And he
depicted to himself, the rage of the fat German Kurfuerst at hearing
that the daughters of his court aristocracy had returned in a body to
the Catholic Faith. He at once recognised the means which he must
employ. He would introduce the exercises of Loyola into the Stift,
through prayers, contemplations and an education in visions he would
attain to a much more rapid result than through his everlasting
preaching and catechising. "The Catholic Faith must be introduced in a
catholic manner, not by the long-drawn-out means of heresy. Things must
take a more rapid course; the fortress is either to be taken by storm
or not at all." But with whom should he begin? With the old dames? They
were already won over or impregnable. The young ones, whose phantasy
was still paramount, whose minds were excitable and ductible, they must
be filled with enthusiasm for the sweet Madonna and child, and then
carry on others through their example. It quite escaped the good
Magister that here once again the child Jesus with the banner of his
Church in hand appeared under the guise of the rogue Cupid. With the
steps of an Elisha he strode up the hill to the Stift; reaching his
room he put a book hastily into his pocket, and requested the
sister-porter to beg an audience in his name of the Lady Superior. The
Countess, an elderly lady with mild finely cut features, received him
with that calm composed kindness, which in a life full of good
intentions and shattered hopes had become her second nature, and asked
him what he wished. With all her gentleness the immobility of
expression caused by years of conventual discipline was still
perceptible about her, and though she had been compelled to lay aside
the great white cap worn by the Sisters, she held her head as straight
as if its huge white pinions still flapped around her head. But her
cool repelling manner only stimulated the excited young man to a
higher pitch of enthusiasm. The fiery Italian described with much
gesticulation the torture of an inactive life. "No storm is worse than
a placid sea," says the holy Ignatius, "and no enemy is more dangerous
than having none." Either he must return to Italy, or dare and succeed
in something. He had not been sent merely to celebrate a clandestine
service in a half empty Convent, or to teach Greek particles to
overgrown boys; he must have some success or quit the place. "For
weeks," said he at the end of a passionate harangue, "I have been
explaining the Catholic dogma, exalting monachism, and celibacy, and
extolling virginity above marriage. I praise, as prescribed by my
directions, at every opportunity the blessing of relics, the worship
and invocation of saints, the stations of the cross, pilgrimages,
abstinences, fastings, indulgences, jubilees, holy days, the custom of
lighting candles, pictures, and all the other aids to piety and the
worship of God, but what has it availed? Everything is as before. If
you cannot determine on a more decided line of action I give up the
struggle. In this way we shall never attain our end."

The old Countess had kept her eyes fixed calmly on the youthful speaker
and her hands moved as if she were telling her beads, a habit into
which she naturally fell, whenever an event occurred in the which she
was deeply interested. If his youthful enthusiasm and the high colour
which covered his usually pale face had not suited him so well, the old
Princess would have calmly called him to order, for she was opposed to
any violent excitement. But she felt in this case a motherly interest
in the handsome young man and her own life had taught her that by
waiting over long, one could wait through a whole life time. In answer
to her question, as to what he meant by a more decided action, the
young Magister handed her a small book, bearing the title "_Exercitia
spiritualia_." "We cannot produce a belief in catholicism through
protestantism," added Paul, "only through catholicism, and here is the
approved _disciplina_, by which our famed General, the holy Ignatius,
knew how to win souls over to the Catholic Church better than by
teaching or preaching."

The Lady Superior turned over the leaves of the book, and asked
somewhat doubtfully: "In what do these _exercitia_ differ from other
christian books?"

"The prayer-books of the heretics," answered Paul, "would teach a
cognition of God, for the Protestants desire to comprehend God, to
think and understand Him. The holy Ignatius has on the other hand shown
in the book, how man can feel and experience God, taste his entire
sweetness. Not through knowledge, says he in the introduction, is the
desire of the soul after God satisfied, but only through inward
experience, and the idea of these _exercitia spiritualia_ is to guide
this perception. These _exercitia_ are practical prayers, by which we,
through the exertion of our senses, through the extending of our hands
and whole body, through wrestling and prayer struggle to feel him near
to us, and thus ourselves come nearer to God. The holy man traces out
here in outline the objects on which man should direct his attention
with his entire energy. They are identical with those accepted by the
heretics, the fall of the angels, the mystery of the redemption, the
incorporation of the _logos_, eternal damnation and the everlasting
pains of hell. Yet understand, noble Lady! The Lutheran believes this,
he ponders over these things, he endeavours to conceive them. But only
to hear or read concerning these things does not bring us nearer to the
Supreme Being. The soul must see all these things, it must become aware
of their truth through the consciousness of the senses, it must raise
itself even to vision. This little book only contains the directions by
which we succeed, in seeing, tasting and feeling with all our senses
the eternal splendor. Opposed to calvinistic vapidness this book wishes
to bestow on the poor frozen soul the sweet fire of the old faith. He
only who has seen the Mother of God and the saints, as Saint Franciscus
and St. Katherina saw them, is one of us. That is the godly doctrine of
the 'Application of the senses' as imagined by the holy Ignatius.
Permit me therefore, most gracious Countess, to exercise this the only
effectual method on the pupils."

The Abbess remained silent, and distrustfully turned the leaves over
and over. "Is that really the whole of the discipline?" she then asked
the Magister, remembering many scandals which had come to her knowledge
with reference to such _exercitia_.

"Flagellation, expiation through blood, even fasting, we cannot
introduce again," replied Laurenzano, "at least not yet, but the pious
maidens can by prayers at the foot of the cross, by kissing the
implements of torture applied on the martyrs, by tears and weeping,
atone in a measure for the outrage committed at Golgatha on the tree of
life, at a time when the King of Kings was spat upon and buffetted.
There is a blessing in the tears of women, and the maiden who has wept
over the sorrows of the Mother of God is thereby freed from the curse
of heresy. What I usually add, are innocuous things, pictures, relics,
flowers, a few mementoes of death and the grave. You remember how in
the Eleusinian mysteries the initiated were led up to the truth through
serious or pleasing symbols. Permit me to use a few aids of this kind.
The symbol is the language of our church, only the heretic is satisfied
with the mere word."

"On which of the young ladies have you thought to essay these
exercises?" inquired the Domina.

"We could proceed according to age."

"The pupils von Eppingen, von Steinach, and Lieblerin are the first in
the order."

Paul nodded indifferently.

"I only fear," said the Abbess, and her hand sought the Rosary which
was no longer there, "that you will drive these young souls into a
fanaticism, which can do injury to the _sanitudo corporis_. These young
ladies have not been entrusted to me, to be turned into visionaries."

"When the Domina of this Convent notices evil consequences," replied
Paul submissively, "she is always at liberty to order these _exercitia_
to be broken off. I am quite certain, noble lady, that so soon as you
experience the blessing, which is to be found in this little book, you
will yourself as well as all the other ladies attend these
_exercitia_."

"Well then, in God's name. How do you wish to manage the affair?"

"According to the prescription of the holy Ignatius, the person shall
thoroughly study in his private closet at a quiet hour of the morning
or evening one of the passages marked here. Doors and windows must be
closed, the light of day must be shut out. Kneeling on his knees must
the penitent give his whole soul up to the narrative of the stories,
which are here marked out with short strokes. I will read out these
extracts to the young ladies, and beg them to remain in a position of
worship, till the object of the exercise has been obtained."

"These exercises cannot take place in the rooms, you must use the
Church."

"In that case," replied Paolo, "the Church must remain closed, and the
light must be subdued. All impressions likely to distract are to be
avoided, otherwise the real compilation is impossible."

"I will close the outer doors," said the Abbess, "those leading to my
passage must remain open, so that I can go in and out. I shall not
disturb you."

Paolo bowed. "When do you wish to begin?"

"At sunset."

It now struck the good Domina, that the dark Neapolitan had declared as
the fittest implements of the church the three fairest children of the
Odenwald, but she suppressed her suspicions, went to the young girls,
and informed them that the Magister intended holding special evening
prayer services for the promotion of their souls' welfare. Did they
acquiesce, they must remain behind in the church after Vespers. The
three maidens blushed, but none refused.

The Magister at noon visited the church several times and brought in
secretly a few objects, some of them from his own room, others were
taken from the town into the chapel of the Convent. In the evening
vespers were conducted as usual. When the organ had ceased playing the
loud sounding recessional and the exulting Hallelujah, Paul appeared
before the altar, where he found the three girls kneeling in a reverent
position on the three first benches. A mystical semi-darkness filled a
chapel never too bright. The young Priest uttered a prayer, and then
made his three young friends a small discourse containing much of the
same substance which we have already read in his remarks to the
Countess Sabina. Man must not only think about a higher world, but must
feel and experience it, so as to be certain of its existence. For this
cause a holy man had thought of the exercises which he was about to go
through with them. Their soul should in this very hour confer with
Jesus about its belief as a friend with a friend, as a servant with its
Lord. He himself would aid them. He then ordered the first of the
maidens to kneel down in the gloom behind the altar, where on this day
hung a picture representing in vivid and glaring colours the Holy
family in the carpenter's shop. Next he took Bertha von Steinach
already trembling with excitement by the hand and led her to a gloomy
chapel at the side. Before the altar at which he bade her kneel was a
large basket of roses. "Pray here, my dear child," he said, "and when
thou hast reverently repeated a Pater noster, Ave Maria, Salve regina,
Gloria and Magnificat, cast aside these flowers of the Spring and
consider what is hidden behind the roses of this life." Then he led
Lydia, gently supporting her by the arm to the steps of the organ,
where in a semi-dark corner a strange casket covered over by a curtain,
and having a round glass attached was visible. On it was written in
Latin: "Memento mirror for Brother Paul, which will bring back his
veritable calling to his recollection." "When you have prayed," said
the Magister, inviting her to kneel by a gentle pressure on her young
shoulders, "look through this glass, and it will show you what awaits
you." He then ascended the pulpit and read slowly and with many
interruptions a meditation out of his book, which described in coarse
fanciful outlines, in stammering visionary language, the course, which
the phantasy of the worshipper should follow. "I see," he began in a
low suppressed tone, "the three Persons of the Godhead, looking down on
the entire globe, filled with men who must go down into hell." "I see,"
continued he after a pause, "how the Holy Trinity concludes, that the
second Person must take on himself human nature for the redemption of
lost sinners."

"I now survey," he then read out after another pause, "the whole
circumference of this earth and behold in a corner the hut of Mary. The
Holy Personages stand around the crib at Bethlehem. A beam of light
pours down on the divine child and I hear the song of praise of the
heavenly host: 'Glory to God in the Highest and on earth peace,
goodwill towards men.'"

Then all was still in the church; the setting sun threw its last golden
beams over the entablature. Stupefying clouds of incense arose in the
close chapel, and low, moaning, sighing tones proceeded from the organ;
they were motives from the Miserere, and Tenebrae played with
variations by the Italian. Then again the reading was continued in a
tone which fell like lead on the young souls of his audience, and
deadened every free action of the mind. The chords increased in power,
and filled the darkened space. The voices separated and joined again;
some notes expressed the deep subjection of the sinner, his contrite
humility, others spoke out in trumpet-like tones of the glorious
Majesty. Then all became a chaotic struggling and wrestling. It was as
if the earth itself opened its mouth to utter its sorrowful wail, and
heaven returned an answer. So must it thus sound, when the mountains of
the Alps join in converse, or the sea answers back the stormwind raging
over it. The entire sorrow of finality wailed in those tones to the
throne of the Highest, and the Grace from above came down, as hovers
the Invisible over his worlds.

Clara von Eppingen, a plump fair Swabian kneeling at the altar, had in
the meanwhile thoroughly imbued herself with the appearances of the
Holy Family. How lovingly did the Madonna bend over the fair headed
Christ child, which pulled at her neckband with its little hands; how
paternally proud stood St. Joseph close at hand, whilst St. Anna in
attendance on the child and mother surveyed the group. The Holy Family
seemed to look back at the plump Clara with a kindly gaze, and the
coarse strokes and vivid colors of the picture impressed themselves
more and more on the mind of the almost entranced maiden. Had she been
a woman, she would have loved to be the mother of such a brown-eyed
Madonna, or fair Christ child; the Magister had treated her like Jacob
did Laban's flocks, in causing her to remain kneeling for hours before
this colored imagery. The thoroughly hearty maiden would have felt
quite at her ease during these _exercitia_, had it not been for the
rolling and sighing of the Organ which at times startled her, and had
not a shriek of terror from the chapel, and a cry for help from the
organ steps reached her ear.

The nervous and delicate Bertha von Steinach had in the meanwhile bent
her curly head in prayer in the chapel over the sweet-smelling roses.
As she then, as directed by the Magister, plunged her hand in among the
flowers, a cold, flat surface met her fevered touch. In terror she
seized it and drew out a skull, which gazed at her with hollowed eyes,
and mocking drooping jaw. Tremblingly she wished to replace it, when a
living object rustled past her. It was a ring adder which the Magister
had concealed in the basket, and which now gliding over the floor
disappeared behind the altar. At this the excited young maiden uttered
the cry of terror, heard by her friend Clara, and on regaining her
composure, she saw at the bottom of the basket, bloody nails, thorns on
which hung pieces of wool, scourges with small knots at the end or
leaden shot, sharp prongs, little wheels, and other instruments of
mortification. Such things as these according to the words of the
Magister lay concealed under the roses of life. In horrified anguish
she knelt before the basket out of which the skull grinned back at her,
and unresistingly did she give herself up to the tones which poured
forth from the organ.

Matters had not been better for Lydia. She knelt before the "Mirror of
remembrance" and could only bring her mind with difficulty to prayer.
The dark round glass before her seemed to haunt her, and she felt as if
she were about to see all the dead wives of Bluebeard the moment she
looked into it. The tones of the organ however reassured her and she
summoned up courage to follow the directions. A screech for help
escaped her lips, the moment she looked into the glass. Immediately
before her she saw a monk in his cowl, who seemed to move, but from
under the hood she had recognised her own features, gazing pale,
spiritualized, with awe-struck eyes. A chill seized her, and now the
tones of the organ shook her to her very marrow. Long did she remain
kneeling before summoning sufficient courage to look at the horrid
image once again. Once more the same image; calm and pale sat the monk,
but from under the cowl her own features met her gaze. Again she
uttered a shriek of terror, and immediately her second-self opened its
lips. Then the glass became dim and she was obliged to wipe it with her
handkerchief. Doing this she became aware how the hand holding the
cloth appeared from under the hood. Everything was now evident, she saw
her own reflection. Indignant at the frightful spectre she drew the
linen to one side, so as to examine with a girl's curiosity the matter
thoroughly. Behind the curtain was painted a monk, whose wide cowl was
filled up by a looking-glass, so that whosoever should happen to look
in, must see his own face from under the hood. In her disgust she let
the curtain drop. The impression produced on her had not been that
intended by Paul. She did not complain at seeing her own countenance
thus ghostly disfigured, looking out in the costume of one cut off from
the world, but the Latin inscription, which contrary to Paul's
expectation, she understood, rendered her uneasy, as marking through
this monk's dress the veritable position of the Brother Paulus. The
most strange and wondrous thoughts rushed through this bewildered
child's head, and she was aroused from her darksome half terrifying,
half sensuous dreams by the sudden and abrupt ceasing of the organ, as
if death with its hard grip had straightway borne off the player. The
two other worshippers aroused themselves with a start from out of the
world of crowding thoughts, but immediately the melodious voice of the
Italian sounded through the darkened church: "I survey the entire
circumference of the earth and behold in a corner the home of Mary."
When he had finished reading this meditation, he strode slowly up to
the first of the penitents kneeling at the altar, and after turning the
picture with its face to the wall, he laid his small hand gently over
the maiden's eyes and asked: "Dost thou still see with thy spiritual
eyes the Holy Family." "I think so," lisped the plump maiden.
"Represent to thyself the hut, the saintly personages, their looks,
their dress. Thou must see which persons stand in the shade, which in
the light, what colors are used for their clothing. Thou must touch
their foot prints, hear the rustle of their garments, feel their breath
on thy cheek, before that thou mayest rise. Is it thus with thee, then
answer 'Amen' and go with the sign of the Cross over thee, before that
thy soul is again deadened." And bowing over her he imprinted a
fatherly kiss on the head of the blooming child. He next crossed over
to the excitable passionate Bertha von Steinach, who lay shaking with
fever out-stretched on the cold stone floor before the death's head and
the instruments of martyrdom. He saw with a feeling of contentment, the
effect of the means he had employed and when he looked at this bruised
reed now like pliable wax in his hand, he determined to knead her very
soul. "Knowest thou," he asked, "where tarries the soul that used to
gaze from these empty sockets?" The young maiden shook her head,
without rising up. "It is in the place of torment, and thou shalt see
it, writhing in the dread flames of Hell. Shut thine eyes and look
within the space through which the glowing flames break. Dost thou not
hear the wail of the damned, their meanings, their screams, their
shrieks, their blasphemies against Christ? Dost thou smell the
sulphurous vapor, the breath of corruption, the stink of the slimy
pool, reeking upwards? Dost thou taste on thy tongue the salty
bitterness of the tears wept by those below? Feelest thou on thy
fingers the flames, by whose glow the souls of the damned are now
burning?"

"Oh no, no," sighed the terrified child. Then the dark figure knelt at
her side. She felt his breath on her cheek, how he was shaken with
convulsive tremors as he wrestled in prayers, she heard him whispering
in her ear in fanatical excitement. "I see millions and millions of
beings writhing and shrivelling in the everlasting fire. I see how the
pupil of their eyes roll with indescribable fever, how their hacked and
mangled limbs quiver with unendurable pain. Ah, how bodies wind
themselves round one another, how yells for mercy sound, but the heaven
above them is brazen. Only the echo of their shouts return to them.
There however and yonder again in the dark corners grin the masks of
devils with birdlike faces, froglike bodies, and eagle claws. They
hover like bats around the damned and mock their torments. Now they
seize the heaps of the tortured, they shoulder them, and away with them
to the chaldron of burning brimstone. Dost thou see how the blue flames
flare upwards? If one attempts to creep out, the devils flog him in
again with snake scourges; dost thou see that one winding himself as a
serpent round the body of yonder woman, and the toad on her body and
the devil kissing her with his bat-like snout? Now the devils lay their
heads together; how they gnash with their teeth, how their mocking
laugh resounds! They are considering new torments, sharper tortures.
Dost thou see them shaking in fresh pitch, and the red column of flame
now rising upwards? Now the smoke hides the light; a vapour conceals
the ruddy glow, but the shrieks of terror increase. See how they look
at us, how they stretch out their hands to us, they beg for our help,
our prayers...."

"Oh, I can endure no more," sighed the poor child--"every thing smells
of sulphur, I faint--I must leave."

"Go, my daughter, but preserve in a true heart, that which thou has
seen."

Clara and Lydia Erast still lay with bowed heads in their dark corners.
The young Priest took his seat at the organ and played in gentle,
soothing strains, calculated to loose the souls of the penitents from
their excitement. A light step through the Church told him that the
second maiden was now leaving. Only Lydia remained in her dark corner.
The tall figure now approached her. Did he more resemble the archangel
of God, or the angel which had fallen away through lofty pride from the
Eternal, as he thus approached in the gloom the silent worshipper?
Never had Paolo looked handsomer. His black eyes gleamed with the fire
of that ecstasy into which he had worked himself, and a changing colour
glowed over his pale cheek. "Dost thou feel the sweetness of heavenly
love," he whispered. "Lydia, dost thou see the sweet smiling lips of
the Saviour?" The kneeling Lydia felt, how he bowed his face over her
head, her bosom worked tempestuously up and down, her cheeks assumed a
deeper colour. As if in the fervor of prayer he seized her hand, and
the maiden felt his own tremble. "Canst thou see nothing?" he
stammered. "Ah, wherever I look, I see dark brown eyes fixed on me."
And carried out of herself, filled with a deep passion, she arose. His
self-command now entirely forsook him. He pressed her to him with wild
desire, his burning feverish lips sought her own. Powerless she lay in
his arms. The minutes flew as if but seconds. Suddenly a cold severe
voice was heard. "Are these your exercises, Magister Laurenzano?"
called out the Abbess appearing from behind the organ. "Go to thy room,
Lydia," she said to the trembling maiden, and on finding herself alone
with the Magister, she drew back the window curtain, so that the last
rays of the sun fell on the hidden corner. The young Priest lay as if
overwhelmed on the nearest bench, his head buried in the cushion. He
answered not a word, as the infuriated Matron continued her harangue.
"For this cause would you impress these mystic sensuous images on the
souls of confiding children, and fan in them an impure passion, so as
to bring about their ruin? Shame on you, a thousand times shame. Better
would it be, to attain your evil design by force, than to destroy in
this manner the innocency of their hearts."

A sob as that of an hart struck by an arrow reached the ear of the
enraged Abbess. She noticed how the young Priest writhed in agony. Pity
for the poor young man stirred her to the quick.

"I am willing to believe, Magister Paul," said she in a kinder tone,
"that you had not the intention to act in the way I saw, and I thank
the Saints that they left me no rest in my room but led me hither,
before any greater mischief happened. But you see now what comes of all
this juggling, which the Wicked one himself invented, to give the
heretics a hold against us. The gardener shall immediately bring these
pictures and other objects to your apartment. Should such _Exercitia_
be necessary, I shall preside over them in person, as is required by
the rules of all properly conducted convents. You will however return
to your home in Heidelberg, so soon as you can do so without injury to
our or your reputation. I hold much to a good _conscientia_ in all
things, and the _fama publica_ must not slander us."

Thereupon the kindly Dame wished him farewell and left him alone in the
Chapel, which however he only quitted an hour afterwards quietly, and
as one sick of a fever, supporting himself against the wall.

Dame Sabina went at once to see Lydia, whom she to her great
astonishment found in no wise so downcast as she expected. Rather did a
bright gleam of joy seem to beam from her eyes. "What am I to say about
your proceeding, young woman," began the Abbess sternly, "how is it
that you suffer yourself to be kissed in Church by the Priest?"

"Ah!" sighed the maiden blushing, "forgive me most gracious Lady
Abbess. It was in truth the first time. The Magister means to act an
honest part towards me, and my father will have no objection to our
marriage."

The old Lady smiled in a hard manner. "Silly Fool, dost thou not know
that Laurenzano is a catholic Priest and neither can nor will marry?"
But the hard words had scarcely escaped her, then she regretted them,
for Lydia gazed at her as if she were going mad. The blood had left the
maiden's cheek, her eyes had grown unnaturally wide, the large black
pupils were fixed on the Abbess. Then she burst into a convulsion of
tears. "It is not true. Tell me. Mother, it is not true?" The old Lady
caught the child to her heart. Opposed to the heartbreaking grief of
this young creature her motherly feelings came uppermost. "Be quiet,
child, be quiet. Thy sorrow is not so great as thou thinkest. Thou
knowest scarcely this disloyal Priest. Thou lovest the black man in the
pulpit, thou hast never seen the real Laurenzano. That which thou
lovest is an image of thy phantasy, which thou thyself hast created.
Now thou must efface this foolish idol from thy heart, that is all.
Nothing can come out of it. Laurenzano came to convert us. He would be
scoffed at, if he let himself be converted by thy blue eyes."

"I will go back to my father," sobbed the poor child. "I will not
remain here."

"Thou must first become more quiet, my child. I cannot bring thee back
in this condition to thy father. He must not even hear of what took
place here. The Kurfuerst would order Laurenzano to be flogged out of
the country." The maiden gazed at the Countess in horror. The Abbess
kissed her on the forehead, undressed her and helped her to her bed.
Then the old lady sat for some time at the side of the sick child and
told her about her own youth, her plans for marriage, and the rich
stream of kindness, which poured from the lips of the usually cold Nun,
had a beneficial influence upon poor Lydia. When the Domina opened the
door, to go, she saw with displeasure two Nuns, who had certainly been
listening, hurrying off. Even in the neighbouring cells light steps
were heard creeping away. Dame Sabina immediately called a _conventus_,
so as to close the mouth of those ladies, whose chattering, as she
knew, did not fall far short of their curiosity. When her motherly
friend had left her, Lydia thought to herself: "This therefore is the
use of the Mirror of remembrance, given to him by his spiritual
tyrants, that he may not forget, that he is still a monk." She fancied
to herself, how he would look in the cowl, under which she had seen
to-day her own affrighted face. But the excitement had been too much
for her. Her eyes closed and soon she lay in a deep sound sleep. In the
next room Bertha von Steinach had on the contrary much more horrible
dreams of the pains of hell and the tortures of the damned, and more
than once started from her dream calling, "it is burning" and that she
plainly smelt the brimstone. "Take away the skull," cried she another
time, "see how the worms creep out of the empty sockets." Master
Laurenzano moreover, who had caused all this mischief with his
_exercitia_, sat in his room, his head leant out of the open window.
That night he sought not his couch. At sundawn he took the little work
by St. Ignatius which lay before him, and read out of the last page:
"Take, O Lord, my entire freedom, take my memory, my understanding and
very will." It was in vain. He could not pray. Troubled and in misery
he hastened to the mountains.




                             CHAPTER VIII.


"In truth I shall have to end up by going to the Hirsch if I wish to
see that brother of mine," thought Master Felix, after he had waited
the whole of another day expecting that his brother would come up to
the Castle. So he set his chisel and apron aside and went down to the
Market-place, and from thence entered through the well-known door of
the hotel into the back-room, in which the clergy of Heidelberg were
wont to meet round a large oaken table. He found the room still empty;
the low, arched parlor was only lighted by a single lamp, and at the
table sat a stout gray-headed man dressed in black, with a vinous
countenance and a bottle nose. "God's word from the country," thought
Felix, taking his seat after a profound bow near to the Parson, whom he
thought he had already seen somewhere.

"Have you managed to finish this measure by yourself, reverend Sir?" he
asked of the complacent toper.

"Man is a weak and timorous creature," answered the Blackgown
sanctimoniously, "at first I thought not to be able to master it by
myself, but now through God's help I am about to order a second."

"Without his divine aid you will be scarcely able to recognize your
front door," said the artist laughing.

"What do you know about that?" rejoined the Parson with a severe look.
"He whom a merciful Deity has blest with the capacity of carrying his
four measures of Bergstrasser, is ungrateful to his Maker when he only
drinks three." Saying this he clapped the tin cover of his stone
measure in an audible manner and a hoarse voice answered from a
neighbouring room: "Coming, Your Reverence, coming." And forthwith a
jolly looking little figure with a big red head appeared and took away
the Parson's jug.

"And to you, Sir Italiano, shall I bring once more a bucket of water
and a thimbleful of wine?" asked the small man, who knew Felix from his
former sojourn at the Hirsch.

"As usual, Klaus," answered Felix laughing, whereupon a small glass of
wine and a bottle of water were set before him.

When Felix had looked more attentively at his neighbor, and then cast a
glance at the quaint looking waiter, he felt positive, that he had seen
the two together somewhere within a few days. "Was it not Klaus, that I
saw in your company lately in the ante-chamber of the new hall?" asked
he of the Parson. Mr. Adam Neuser, for he was the quiet soaker, pulled
down his mouth, as if his red wine tasted of the cork. "Formerly he was
court-fool," he said. "But the new-fangled pietists have abolished the
office. The foreign court parsons prefer making a fool of our gracious
sovereign. They would not even grant him a pension; at that he wished
to complain to the Kurfuerst in person. All of no avail. Who knows,
perhaps, I shall come down to being waiter at the Hirsch, if I do not
wish to starve." And he grimly poured a beaker of red wine down his
throat.

"Hallo, Neuser, how does the early rising agree with you?" said a deep
voice belonging to a portly looking cleric who now entered the room.
"It was a first-rate idea of our mutual friend Olevianus, to punish you
by appointing you to conduct morning prayer, ha, ha, ha."

"I have scored him down for that, Inspector," rejoined the ruddy faced
Neuser, "and I think the time is coming when we shall drive the
Trevians, Silesians and French out of South Germany, where they have no
business."

"You forget the Italians," inserted Felix laughing.

"No one has up to the present had to complain of your brother," here
put in Parson Willing, who had entered the room together with Inspector
Sylvan, a slight fair man with interesting but unclerical features, who
looked as if he willingly played chess, but unwillingly preached the
Gospel. "Magister Laurenzano acts in a modest manner, as befits a
foreigner, he is a pleasant companion, and he does not love Calvinists
any better than we do, therefore may he play secretly at popery. Ten
Bishops would never have plagued us as does this one Olevianus."

"Yea verily," continued here Neuser, "I speak of him and of all the
starvelings who have tumbled down on our fair Palatinate like a sow on
a bag of oats, and are now so full of grub that nothing is good enough
for them. Do you know, what that Silesian Ursinus lately wrote in a
report to the Kurfuerst, when His Grace stopped at Amberg? 'To answer in
a few words,' he wrote, 'it is my belief as a Christian that there are
not six competent clergymen in the whole of the Palatinate.' Those were
his own words. May the Koenigstuhl and Heiligenberg fall on his proud,
Silesian pate, if we are not christian enough for him."

"Then must cursing be a part of Christianity," murmured the waiter,
angry with the Parson, who in order to lay more emphasis on his
concluding words, came down so heavily with his fist on the table that
the glasses jumped and part of the contents of his beaker ran over.

"Ho, ho, do not be so peppery, beloved Colleague," here piped in a
squeaky voice a fat little man, who funnily resembled a dressed out
porpoise, and who was introduced to Felix as Parson Suter of
Feudenheim. He added politely taking his seat next to Inspector Sylvan:

"Under the protection of my Inspector the Luetzelsachsener tastes like
Ingelheimer. But is not the way in which our Adam is treated,
shameful," he continued clapping Neuser on the back, "a man, without
whom the Hirsch could not exist."

"And who has the largest congregation in Heidelberg," snarled out
Klaus.

"How the largest congregation?" asked the Inspector.

"Yes, of all who do not go to Church." The others laughed, Neuser
however cast an angry look at the Fool. "Go to thy barrel, thou
wine-spigot."

"He who fiddles the truth, catches it over the head with the bow,"
rejoined Klaus in leaving, while the room re-echoed with the laughter
of the clerics at the anger of their already somewhat intoxicated
colleague. By this time the pale face of Master Laurenzano appeared
from out of the background, who held out to his brother with much grace
his small white hand whilst he with a polite bow asked Neuser, the
martyr of the hour, as to the state of his health. "I am well," said
the fat gentleman spitefully, "and hope the reverend Father is the
same." Paul paid no attention to the allusion but took his seat between
the Inspector and his brother. He must however have overheard part of
the discussion, for he said to Sylvan with a friendly smile: "Your
Colleagues let me know pretty well every evening, that they do not like
the presence of foreigners, and that they will not have in their
country either Calvinists, Lutherans, or Papists. But whom do they then
wish? A man must, so it seems to me, be a Heidelberger and drink a
quantity of beer and wine, otherwise he will never be a good cleric in
their eyes."

The stately Inspector shook his head. "I am myself not a native of the
Palatinate, and yet no one has ever told me, that I was in his way."

The Jesuit looked over his man. "You are a Bavarian, Sir?"

"No, I am from Tyrol, and was a Papist and moreover a zealous one."

"May one ask what damped that zeal?" said Paul with curiosity.

"Why not?" said Sylvan. "The story is not pretty, but it is interesting
for people like you, and cannot hurt me to relate, for it took place a
long time ago. I come from Trieste, and was educated by Abbot Altherr
in Innsbruck, and after being consecrated was sent as Chaplain in the
neigbourhood of Salzburg, to aid an aged Priest who found his duties
too much for him. Thus I came out of the Seminary into the world, with
my head full of plans for the improvement and reformation of men. I got
on very well with my fat old Colleague. He lived with his housekeeper,
and every afternoon went to Salzburg to drink the good Strohwein at St.
Peter's. That just suited me, as I then had the management of the
parish to myself. I carried my wisdom up and down the mountains,
preached the Gospel to the peasants till I perceived that they made fun
of me, and that their favorite Priest was he who kept most out of their
way. Feeling sore I concluded that if the peasants would not hear me I
would sit down in the library of the parsonage and set the world on
fire through some learned work. Whether I should write on the
archangels or the church-tithes would entirely depend on the books I
might find there to hand. But heaven only knows what the patristic
writings were that I found there. Amadis of Gaul, Erasmus and Hutten,
the works of Boccaccio and Sannazar, the Epigrams of Poggio, and the
novels of Rabelais. It became suddenly clear to me why this good Priest
required so much Strohwein to stupefy him. The love stories which I
read, did me much mischief, but I soon cast them away from me; my zeal
was awakened and I determined to do away with the scandal. One
afternoon that the Priest had gone out, and that the housekeeper was
visiting her nephews and nieces, I packed up the entire library of the
Antichrist and carried them into the court. I had soon piled up the
filthy works and rejoiced to see how well they burnt up. But in my
ardour I had not remembered that at this very season the Foehn blew
strongly. How could a young Saint only twenty years of age think of
such a trifle, when the cause of God was in question. The burning paper
went flying about the court and before I knew the shingles of the
pig-sty were on fire. I run for water, pile dung on the burning sty,
and whilst I am sweating and puffing, I suddenly notice that the flying
bits of paper have set the shingle-roof of the parsonage on fire. I at
once run to the Church and toll the alarm bell. People hasten from all
sides. I would answer no question, see nothing, hear nothing. But
whilst tolling I see how the Church itself is filling with smoke; it is
evident that the roof is on fire, I toll all the more till at last the
bell itself lies at my feet. It was time for me to step outside. Holy
Florianus, when I look around me I see the whole place in flames! The
wind carried the burning straw from roof to roof. I did not wait to
receive from the peasants the reward of my pious efforts, but cut a
stick and left the place as hard as my legs could carry me. Of an
evening, I curled myself up in a cornfield and went fast asleep. Thus I
at last reached Innsbruck where lived my Abbot. I confessed all to him.
'Thou wert zealous but foolishly,' said he, 'thy stay in Tyrol is no
longer possible.' Thus I was obliged to come down from my mountains
towards the empire, and could choose any of the sixteen corners from
which the wind blows over the plain of Munich. It now became necessary
to repress myself and to cringe, and I soon entirely lost the art of
rooting the sins of others out by fire. When finally I reached France,
my zeal had vanished. Bishop Zobel of Wuerzburg thought however that I
was a thorough Tyrolean and knew how to behave myself, he therefore
appointed me Canon and Court Preacher. If there was no Strohwein there
was at least Steinwein. I found my Theresa and right or wrong as it
might please God we lived together. But finally I thought the whole
thing bad and asked in the Palatinate whether I could find employment,
as Theresa was always dinning in my ears that I should marry her, and I
felt I should like to have my children about me. Thus it was I came to
Ladenburg. Instead of heavy Steinwein I now drink Luetzelsachsener. The
wine is not tasty, but only a small disrelish has to be overcome, and
it is healthier. In short Inspector Sylvan is a happier man than the
Canon of Wuerzburg ever was. That is my story, young man, and I think
you will find something to copy therein."

"I thank you, Sir," said Paul smiling, "you may be certain that I shall
not set your Heidelberg on fire. It catches fire without my aid once in
every four weeks."

"Room for Chancellor Probus and the Church Counsellor," cried out
Neuser eagerly, as Erast came in accompanied by a stoutly built portly
man, who leaning on his sword sat down at the clerical table. The rows
became closer and closer, and the young daughter of the court fool, a
fresh country lass from the Palatinate, gayly attended to their wants.
She appeared however not to notice Master Laurenzano. He sat there
without being waited on till the host himself brought him a measure of
wine.

"Who is the rough looking man with the huge forehead?" asked the
artist. "I mean the individual who so quickly swallows down one beaker
after another, and whose every remark calls out a shout of applause
from those in his immediate neighbourhood."

"That is Xylander, our celebrated philologist."

"Hem," murmured Felix, "our great humanists look a little different.
And the haggard looking man, who behaves in so condescending a manner,
as if he feared to tread unawares upon us poor worms with his leonine
paws?"

"Be quiet," whispered Paul, "that is the renowned Pithopoeus, the great
Aristotelean of Deventer."

"He may be stolen from me for aught I care," calmly replied Felix.

"The gentlemen may prepare themselves for severe trials," now began
Chancellor Probus raising his voice to call attention. "The
introduction of the Genevese Church discipline is almost a foregone
conclusion. Presbyteries are to be formed which together with the
ministry will carry out the Church excommunication. To sweep before
strange doors will now be a profitable occupation. 'The office of the
elders,' say Calvin's ordinances, 'consists in watching the life of
others.' The quarters of the town will be divided among the elders, who
will have to inspect the different houses and verify whether the
fathers and the mothers have thoroughly studied the new Catechism,
whether the family lives in peace, whether the husband gets drunk, or
the wife rails at her neighbors, whether every one goes to Church and
Communion, whether dice or cards are in the house, and whether the
daughters dance round dances. The Parsons themselves will see to the
reform of those denounced. In a word the observance of public order
passes from the hands of the officials to those of the clerics."

"That will cause some trouble, as the sparrow said, when called upon to
lay a goose's egg," called out a shrill but somewhat husky voice.

The Chancellor wrinkled his brow. "Aha, our Klaus falls again into his
_role_ of fool," said the Inspector apologetically.

"He is not so wrong. Children and fools speak the truth," now spake out
Erast, rubbing with his yellow wash-leather glove the lame arm which
was paining him. "The clergy will not be strong enough to keep public
order. The authorities will be there, but still under the orders of the
Theologians. If the Magistrate Hartmann Hartmanni can preserve order by
Olevianus' directions, I cannot see why he should not have been able to
do so before. For one thing is certain, that the riotous living now
carried on in Heidelberg can no longer be tolerated, the noise in the
streets till late at night, that everlasting firing, music, and
rioting. This the Magistrate could put a stop to without the clergy,
were he not himself a gallivanter, and in every respect a boon
companion, not to mention also, that he considers himself to be quite a
humanist, and makes verses instead of sitting in the Court house."

"Verily a little discipline is necessary in Heidelberg," said Probus
confirmingly, "and now punishment follows after its neglect."

The clerical gentlemen returned no answer but looked rather confused.
An angel, or even two angels had time to pass through the room, before
that the Philosopher Pithopoeus helped these gentlemen to give
expression to their thoughts, by jokingly remarking. "Then shall we not
see our spiritual friends any more in the Hirsch, for if the
Theologians must break the members of their flocks of the habit of
sitting in taverns, they themselves must set the example."

"Thus, Herr Neuser, the whole advantage of an early morning service is
lost to you, and all these nice free hours from eight o'clock on,"
added Xylander with an amused glance from under his eyebrows.

"If Olevianus' propositions take effect," said the Chancellor Probus,
"you yourself will also be spared that trouble, Professor. The taverns
will be closed, and in their place we shall have monasteries in which
the unmarried citizens will be allowed to meet to

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