Klytia Part 3

"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, ma.s.s was once more celebrated. In the Church of St. Peter they wished to become Zwingliites as is Erastus the Physician to the Kurfurst. 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 a.s.sistant-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 s.n.a.t.c.h 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 pa.s.ses 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 l.u.s.ty 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 coa.r.s.e 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 pa.s.s 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 coa.r.s.e hands, the churches as bare as stalls, altars and fonts shattered, organs broken to pieces. No ma.s.s 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 cla.s.s 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, n.o.ble 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 amus.e.m.e.nt 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 n.o.ble birth, my father is Counsellor Erastus, or Liebler as the petty n.o.bility 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 n.o.ble man," affirmed Felix.

"Well, the Kurfurst 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 Fraulein von Lutzelstein 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 embarra.s.sed 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 n.o.ble young ladies. Out of spite they followed after me and Baroness von Eppingen a.s.serted, 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?"