Klytia: A Story of Heidelberg Castle

by Adolf Hausrath

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 Kurfürst 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 Kurfürst 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.