"Well now," interrupted the Count, who began to be bored, "it really was over."
"No, no, young sir, it only looked so, but was not. But here I must make a confession. I saw everything with my own eyes, sir, for I was her friend and honoured her in my heart. How foolish I was, I will also confess. We of the old school, who were brought up at the end of the age of chivalry, had learnt to see in woman a creature above the ordinary level of humanity; we revered the outward part, and that which was beautiful and useless; in our ideas that which pleased the eye took the first place. You can well imagine that I, though a seeker of the truth, was so misled by these old ideas, that I thought she was sinking just when she showed the greatest energy and courage. Yes, on the very day that the decree of separation came, I had a conversation with her which I can remember as clearly as though I had written it down. I said: 'If you knew how idolatrously high you once stood in my sight. And I saw the angel let her white wings fall, I saw the fairy lose her golden shoe. I saw you the morning after the marriage when you rode on your white horse through the wood, it carried you so lightly over the damp grass and lifted you so high over the mud of the marsh without a spot coming on your silver-bright clothing. For a moment I thought as I stood behind a tree; "Suppose she fell!" and my thought turned into a vision. I saw you sink in the mire; the black water spirited over you; your yellow hair lay like sunshine over the white blossoms of the bog of myrtle; you sank and sank till I only saw your little hand; then I heard a falcon scream up in the air and mount up on its wrings till it was lost in the clouds.' But then she answered me so well. 'You said once long ago that reality with all its dirt and sordidness was given us by God, and that we should not curse it, but take it as it is. Very well! But now you hint that I have sunk because I am on the way to reconcile myself with this life; I have changed the garment of the rich for that of the poor, since I am poor; I lost my youth when I obeyed the law of nature and became a mother; the beauty of my hands is spoilt by sewing, my eyes are dim with care, the burden of life presses me to the earth but my soul mounts—mounts like the falcon towards the sky and freedom, while my earthly body sinks in the mud amid evil-smelling weeds.'
"Then I asked if she really believed she could keep the soul above while the body sank, and she answered 'No!' This was because she, like myself, had the delusion that something sank. The body, however, did not sink through work; on the contrary, it was hardened and strengthened; it improved and mounted but did not sink. However, we were both so foolish that we both imagined it did, having been indoctrinated with this view from our youth upwards. We considered white hands, though they might be weak and sickly as more beautiful than those which were hardened and embrowned by toil. So perverse were people's ideas in my youth, sir, and so they are still, here and there. But in my perversity I went farther and advised her to commit a crime 6 Loose the falcon and let it mount, I said.'
"'I have already thought of that,' she answered, understanding my thought, 'but the chain is strong.'
"'I have the key to it,' I replied.
"She asked me to give it her, and received from me a bottle of poison.
"Now I return to the story where I left it off. It was where she had left her husband's room to seek the bailiff in the upper story. When she came there she had to wait, for the bailiff had visitors. She also received a lesson, for none of her married friends would greet her, because she had dissolved her marriage. One of these friends had been unfaithful to her husband and had a lover but she thought herself too good to take Frau Margit's hand. What is one to say to that? At that time it was considered one of the greatest crimes to dissolve a marriage, but now, thank Heaven! our ideas have changed. She came, as I have said, to the bailiff to ask his advice as she had done all the time when difficulties arose.
"Did she love him? Probably not; but the heart is never so likely to deceive itself as in such cases. She imagined that she did, because she thought she had lost her husband and by birth and upbringing she was not adapted to stand alone.
"But the bailiff was another sort of man. He was like one of those birds with a seraglio which I spoke of, and if he had not been so cowardly, he would have already enticed the Knight's wife. But he did not do it, for he saw that this fruit would drop when it was ripe enough. Therefore he waited. But he had another characteristic; he was as vain as a cock in a hen-house, and thought that he was a terrible fellow whom no woman could resist. So when he overheard Frau Margit say that she intended visiting him in his room, he believed that the time had come, and made elaborate preparations to receive her. She came quite unsuspiciously, for she trusted his friendship and devotion to her interests. She wished to speak of the serious prospect which lay before her; he spoke of his love and she did not wish to listen. She was legally free but still felt herself bound. The might of memory held her and perhaps the old love had a word to say in the matter. The bailiff became bolder and begged for her love on his knees. Then she despised him. His vanity was wounded, he forgot himself, threw the mask aside, and wished to use force. I came accidentally there and was able to give him the coup de grâce by telling Frau Margit that he was engaged to be married. There was nothing left for him but to withdraw.
"But she had already, when her last hope collapsed and her last dream vanished, used the key to open the gate of eternity; I who knew that the poison required an hour to produce its effect, used the opportunity to speak to her, as one speaks to the dying. Ah! certainly the love of mortals for this wretched life is great, and at such moments the human soul is turned upside down; what lies at the bottom comes uppermost, old memories revive; old beliefs, however absurd and however rightly they may have been rejected, arise again, and I woke up in her the old ideas of duty, foolish perhaps, but necessary now. I brought her so far that she wished to live and commence again a life of renunciation and reflection in the convent. But since the convent no longer existed I persuaded her to be willing to exchange it for the imprisonment of home, where there is plenty of opportunity for penance in mutual self-denial, for devotion in the fulfilment of duties and in obedience. She fought against her pride and regretted her surrender, she raged against life, which had deceived her, and against men who had lied and said that life was a pleasure-garden. In this matter I agreed with her, for the unhappiness in most marriages arises from the fact that people persuade the married pair that they will find absolute happiness in marriage, whereas happiness is not to be found in life at all.