What Courage can achieve I next will heed;
He who is blessed with it, is blest indeed.
To the tired frame fresh power can Courage give,
Raising the weary mind anew to live;
I mean that Courage Reason may instil
Not the foolhardiness that leads to ill.
Far oftener is it that the youth will lie
Helpless, when Fortune’s favours from him fly,
Than that the old man should inactive stay,
Who knows full well how Fortune loves to play.
Fresh Courage seizes him; from such a shield
Rebound the arms malicious foes may wield.
Courage imparts repose, and trifles here,
Beneath its influence, as nought appear;
But a vain loan, which we can only hold
Until the lender comes, and life is told.
Courage pervades the frame and vigour gives,
And a fresh energy each part receives;
With appetite and health and cheerful mind,
And calm repose in hours of sleep we find,
So that no visions in ill dreams appear,
And spectre forms filling the heart with fear.
Courage gives honied sweetness to our food
And prison fare, and makes e’en death seem good.
’Tis well! my mind is fresh, my limbs are sound,
And no misfortune weighs me to the ground.
Reason and judgment come from God alone,
And the five senses unimpaired I own.
The mighty God in me His power displays,
Therefore join with me in a voice of praise
And laud His name: For Thou it is, oh God,
Who in my fear and anguish nigh me stood.
Almighty One, my thanks be ever thine!
Let me ne’er waver nor my trust resign.
Take not the courage which my hope supplies,
Till my soul enters into Paradise.
Written on February 28, 1684, that is the thirty-sixth anniversary since the illustrious King Christian the Fourth bade good-night to this world, and I to the prosperity of my life.
I have now reached the sixty-third year of my age, and the twentieth year, sixth month, and fifteenth day of my imprisonment. I have therefore spent the third part of my life in captivity. God be praised that so much time is past. I hope the remaining days may not be many.
Anno 1685, January 14, I amused myself with making some verses in which truth was veiled under the cloak of jest, entitled: ‘A Dog, named Cavaillier, relates his Fate.’
The rhymes, I suppose, will come into your hands, my dearest children.[E66]
On February 20, the Queen Dowager Sophia Amalia died. She did not think that death would overtake her so quickly; but when the doctor warned her that her death would not be long delayed, she requested to speak with her son. But death would not wait for the arrival of his Majesty, so that the Queen Dowager might say a word to him. She was still alive; she was sitting on a chair, but she was speechless, and soon afterwards, in the same position, she gave up her spirit.
After the death of this Queen I was much on the lips of the people. Some thought that I should obtain my liberty; others believed that I should probably be brought from the tower to some other place, but should not be set free.
Jonatha, who had learned from Ole the tower-warder, some days before the death of the Queen, that prayers were being offered up in the church for the Queen (it had, however, been going on for six weeks, that this prayer had been read from the pulpit), was, equally with Ole the tower-warder, quite depressed. Ole, who had consoled himself and her hitherto with the tidings from the Queen’s lacqueys, that the Queen went to table and was otherwise well, though she occasionally suffered from a cough, now thought that there was danger, that death might result, and that I, if the Queen died, might perhaps leave the prison. They did their best to conceal their sorrow, but without success. They occasionally shed secretly a few tears. I behaved as if I did not remark it, and as no one said anything to me about it, I gave no opportunity for speaking on the subject. A long time previously I had said to Jonatha (as I had done before to the other women) that I did not think I should die in the tower. She remembered this and mentioned it. I said: ‘All is in God’s hand. He knows best what is needful for me, both as regards soul and body; to Him I commend myself.’ Thus Jonatha and Ole lived on between hope and fear.
On March 15, the reigning Queen kept her Easter. Jonatha came quite delighted from her Majesty’s church, saying that a noble personage had told her that I need not think of getting out of the prison, although the Queen was dead; she knew better and she insisted upon it. However often I asked as to who the personage was, she would not tell me her name. I laughed at her, and said, ‘Whoever the personage may be, she knows just as much about it as you and I do.’ Jonatha adhered to her opinion that the person knew it well. ‘What do you mean?’ I said; ‘the King himself does not know. How should others know?’ ‘Not the King! not the King!’ she said quite softly. ‘No, not the King!’ I answered. ‘He does not know till God puts it into his heart, and as good as says to him, “Now thou shalt let the prisoner free!”’ She came somewhat more to herself, but said nothing. And as she and Ole heard no more rumours concerning me, they were quite comforted.
On March 26, the funeral of the Queen Dowager took place, and her body was conveyed to Roskild.