Tales from the German Volume II Part 23

As he approached the house door, which was surmounted by a triumphal arch covered with pine boughs, he was met by the bewitching smiles of the beautiful Eliza, who was still clad in her white festival garments.

'Welcome from battle and victory, brave soldier of the Spirit!' cried she; and, casting aside all maidenly bashfulness and constraint, she spread wide her arms toward the youth.

'Dear maiden!' stammered he, most agreeably surprised by this second and dearest triumph. He pressed the charming girl to his mailed bosom, when, notwithstanding his unaccommodating helmet, they sought and found each other's lips, and united them with the double glow of fanaticism and sensuality, which both in their blindness mistook for the fire of pure love.

At that moment out stepped from the parlor door a little, withered, yellow man, whose tattered garments were covered by a ragged black mantle. With friendly simpers he squinted out of his little, gray, malicious eyes upon the pair, and then, stretching his meager, death-like hand towards Alf, cried with a hoa.r.s.e howl, 'Thee have I this day seen in my dreams, brother, contending and conquering in G.o.d's cause, and lo! my eyes have verified it, and the Lord has achieved great things through thee, his servant. Wherefore be glad, because G.o.d has chosen thee for yet greater things, and through thee shall his name become glorified in Zion!'

The little hobgoblin with ridiculous pomposity then strode out of the house. Alf looked after him with his hand over his forehead, and said, 'sometimes, though in my native city, it appears to me as if I were in a residence of madmen, where all the fools go at large. Who was that strange man?'

'John Tuiskoshirer,' answered Eliza, reprovingly, 'an impoverished goldsmith; but a great man since the spirit has come upon him. Often, already, has he edified the public by his elevated discourses and divine prophecies; and, next to our great Matthias and Johannes, he is now the first prophet in Munster.'

'Good G.o.d! what a mult.i.tude of prophets,' sighed Alf; and by this time Eliza had led him into the room.

Behind a table illuminated with wax tapers and decorated as for a festival, sat the fair Clara. Her loose golden locks flowed down over her white gala dress. Her right arm supported her pale, sad face, and bright tears were falling from her eyes upon her white bosom.

'Do you not bid me welcome, lovely little Clara?' Alf kindly asked of the sorrowing girl. 'Do you celebrate our victory with such bitter tears?'

Clara lifted up her eyes toward the youth with gentle sorrow. 'Be not angry with me for it, dear Alf,' she begged in a soft, subdued tone; 'every drop of blood shed in this unhappy war of opinion, falls envenomed upon my heart. Never shall I lose the remembrance of my poor uncle. He also was butchered for the new faith, of which I do not yet rightly understand whether it is the genuine worship of G.o.d, or a h.e.l.lish sacrifice.'

'Leave the foolish girl!' cried Eliza, handing a goblet to Alf. 'Her spirit is not yet born again to the light. She still lies bound in the chains of darkness. She is not able to offer every feeling joyfully upon the altar of the holy G.o.d.'

'May He preserve me from such joy!' sighed Clara, almost inaudibly; and Eliza with a quick warm pressure of the hand drew the youth upon a seat near herself. His fellow soldiers seated themselves opposite the beautiful couple, and the ceremonies of the repast began. With the pleasing narration of the conquering warriors and the sweeter praises of the fair Eliza, the generous Rhenish of old Trutlinger glided swiftly and deliciously down, and gradually extinguished in Alf all thoughts of the movements in Munster, which his right worthy head and heart had from time to time obtruded upon him. Deeper glowed the flush upon the blooming faces of the youth and maiden; constantly brisker and more radiantly moved their eyes; with constantly increasing warmth were their kisses given and received. The journeymen, rejected by the grieving Clara, could only keep to the goblet, until, overcome by Bacchus, they staggered one after the other to their places of rest.

Alf and Eliza remained quietly sitting at table, as much occupied with each other as if there had been n.o.body else in the world. Leaning sadly upon her arm, Clara looked through her tears upon the happy pair. Now and then a half suppressed sigh stole from her bosom, and she then placed her hand upon her heart as if she felt a sudden pain there.

Already had the second hour after midnight struck upon St. Lambert's tower. Finally Clara rose from her seat, took one of the low-burnt tapers from the table, and remarked with a.s.sumed tranquillity, 'it is late, and I am now going to bed,--wilt thou not go with me, sister?'

No answer came, and the poor maiden sorrowfully retired to her own sleeping room.

CHAPTER V.

Early in the morning Clara was awakened by a disturbance in the street and came from her chamber, when she saw the couple still there. She hastily disappeared with an exclamation of alarm and grief.

'That must have been my sister!' cried Eliza, starting up with terror, her dark locks breaking loose from the band which had confined them.

'Be not alarmed my beloved,' said Alf with sweetly soothing tones.

'Immediately after my baptism brother Rothman shall bless our union, and our weakness will meet with mild judgment from the spirit of mercy which rules over the new Zion.'

'I will so explain the matter to that foolish girl,' cried Eliza, eagerly--'that she may not again offend me by her cold insufferable silence, her customary weapon when we occasionally disagree. She may censure and envy, but she shall respect me even in my aberration.'

She hastened to her chamber, while Alf prepared to go about his daily pursuits in the workshop. He was met at the door by his fellow wanderer the tailor.

'What have I prophesied?' asked the latter, unceremoniously seating himself at the table which remained as it had been prepared the previous evening. 'What have I prophesied?' he asked again, helping himself to a large slice of the gammon of bacon which he found opposite him upon the table. Then, pouring out a goblet of wine from the bottle and swallowing it, he a third time asked, 'what have I prophesied?'

'The devil only knows!' cried Alf, impatiently. 'There are so many prophecies in Munster that my head has already become wholly confused by them.'

'I have foretold,' said the tailor, with pathos, 'that my beloved friend and brother, the prophet Johannes Bockhold, would one day become a great man in the world. You would not believe it, because in the pride of your big fist, you could not be brought to entertain a good opinion of a tailor. And now a tailor has become your master and sovereign; lord over your life and death.'

'You have got into your cups early,' growled Alf, 'and now being drunk, you make me lose the precious morning hours with your miserable fables.'

'What I say is true,' muttered the tailor through his stuffed cheeks; 'and it is you who are mad and foolish. Only hear how cleverly every thing has been brought about. This morning by day-break, while you were indolently sleeping, the prophet Matthias called all the people to the market. He there declared to them that he would go forth with a handful of people, like Gideon, and slay the host of the unG.o.dly. He called and took with him to the bishop's camp, only thirty men. I know not whether he had not asked of the Spirit aright, or whether the Spirit did not answer him rightly: to be brief, a slaughter did indeed follow,--not of the host of the unG.o.dly, but of the good Gideon and his thirty men; not a man of them escaped. As I afterwards went to the market place, a mournful wailing sounded in my ears. The people were beside themselves, to think that they had lost their ruler in so shameful a manner; and here and there some fools maintained, that the great Matthias must have misinterpreted the Spirit in this affair. Then the still greater Johannes Bockhold stepped forward, and spoke to the mult.i.tude. G.o.d!

what words did this man use to calm, console, and elevate the people!

He had known the death of Matthias beforehand. He had seen in the spirit that that great prophet must fall, a second Maccabeus, fighting for the people. Thence we directly perceived that all was in order, that it could by no means be otherwise, and we were content. Then, upon the market-place, we called the preacher of consolation to be our chief ruler,--and he already commands in such a way that it is a pleasure to see him,--he has a wilder and more lordly manner than his predecessor Matthias. His maxim is--that the high shall be brought down, and the lowly shall be exalted. Consequently we shall destroy the churches and make them level with the earth,--because they are the highest buildings in the city. It will be a little tedious, and we also need stout arms for the defence of the walls; we shall, therefore, for the present only plunder the churches a little, until we have leisure for their complete demolition.'

'The churches also to be destroyed!' sighed Alf, 'must that also be? it is most horrible!'

Meanwhile a wild popular tumult arose out of doors. Both hastened to the window. A great mult.i.tude of the populace ran by, shouting incoherently. They were followed by a naked man, who came leaping forward as if impelled by a demon, and who, with foaming mouth and strange bodily contortions, incessantly bawled, 'the King of Zion comes!' Thus vociferating, he pa.s.sed rapidly by. 'The King of Zion comes!' cried the mob who followed him; and Alf, disgusted with such indecent madness, withdrew from the window.

'Who was that madman?' asked he of the tailor, after a moment's pause.

'Did you not know him?' asked the tailor in return. 'That was our highest prophet, Johannes Bockhold himself. The spirit has come over him. I must follow and see what further he will do.'

He went; and Alf, in fearful dubitation said to himself, 'by such a chief is Munster to be governed! It will not and it cannot come to good.'

CHAPTER VI.

This last specimen of fanatical rage had made such a decided impression upon the good Alf, that he no longer felt any special desire for that baptism which was to complete his spiritual union with the great prophet; and as, notwithstanding his adherence to the new doctrines, he began to feel a secret loathing of the unceasing exhortations, revelations and prophecies, by means of which the people were kept in such a constant ferment, he devoted himself to a.s.siduous labor for arming the defences of the city, and under this excuse withdrew himself from the public meetings of the populace which were daily drummed together.

For a time his attention was entirely absorbed by his workshop and his Eliza, whose wild tenderness steeped his youthful senses in a sea of pleasure, such as he had never before dreamed of. Clara in her quiet, patient way, observed the happiness of the lovers, who placed no restraint upon themselves on her account; and the only discoverable effect it produced on her was, that she became every day paler and more fragile.

This was perceived by the kind-hearted Alf, and as he happened to find the good child on one occasion alone in her sitting room, engaged at her distaff, he seated himself beside her in a familiar manner and, pressing her hand, asked her, 'what ails thee, my good sister?'

'Ah! call me not so, Kippenbrock,' said Clara, sorrowfully; and gently withdrew her hand.

'Wherefore not?' cried Alf, surprised. 'May I not call thee sister, as thy brother in the faith, and as the future husband of the dear Eliza?'

The maiden raised her tearful eyes to Him on high. 'You pierce my wounded heart,' said she, 'but you do not know the pain you inflict, and therefore do I right willingly forgive you.'

'Again I do not understand you,' said Alf. 'I see you always sorrowful, and I can endure it no longer. I feel myself so happy with your sister, that I desire to render all about me as happy as myself. Therefore confide in me, good maiden, and take my word for it, I will do everything in my power to mitigate your sorrow.'

'_I_ confide in _you_! in _you_!' cried Clara, rising and attempting to retire.

The stout youth held her fast in his arms. 'No,' said he, 'beloved Clara, I will not let you go until you have opened your heart to me. By the holy G.o.d, mine is well disposed toward you.'

At that moment the door opened, and the detestable Tuiskoshirer, closely wrapped in his tattered mantle, walked in.

'My G.o.d!' shrieked Clara, as she caught a glimpse of him, and violently disengaging herself from Alf's arms, she sprang out of the room.

With a smirk upon his lips, which he seemed to have borrowed from a monkey, the little man followed her with his eyes until she disappeared--then, stepping solemnly in front of Alf, called to him in a hoa.r.s.e, howling voice, 'art thou willing to become king of Zion, brother?'

'I king of Zion?' asked Alf in return, with the greatest astonishment.

'How can such a thing be?'