"Yes, that's her, Barbelle; she is wonderful pretty," whispered the round matron to her daughter, and made a low curtsey; "but now look out for the gentleman."
The girl did not appear to require that piece of advice, for her attention had been long directed to the side whence he was to come. "He comes, he comes!" she heard her neighbours say, "that's him in the white vest and blue mantle, just before the Duke." She saw him; one look only did she dare to cast at him; the blush on her cheek vanished; she trembled, and a tear fell upon her red bodice. When he had passed, she ventured to raise her head again, and look towards him; but it was with an expression of countenance that appeared to indicate more than mere admiration or curiosity.
The procession having by this time entered the church, the spectators crowded to the doors to get in; and in a moment the place which they had occupied was empty. The countrywoman, however, still remained looking at the smart dressed townsfolks, in admiration of their brocade caps, jackets embroidered in gold, and short petticoats. The sight of so much finery awakened in her mind the desire of possessing a dress of the same splendour and shew, only she thought she would not have it cut so low about the neck and shoulders.
Upon turning round, she was startled to see her pretty child concealing her blooming face under her hands. She could not conceive what had happened to the girl; and taking her by both hands, and pulling them down, she observed her weeping most bitterly: "What ails you, Barbelle?" she said, somewhat angrily, but still not without interest, "what makes you cry? did'nt you see him? you ought to be ashamed of yourself! Who ever saw the like? I say, why do you cry?"
"I don't know, mother," she whispered, trying in vain to stop her tears; "I have such a pain in my heart, I don't know why."
"Come, adone with it, I say! or we shall be too late in the church. Hark! how they are playing and singing? Come along, or else I'll not look at you again!" With these words she dragged the girl towards the church. Barbelle followed; and covered her eyes with her white apron, lest the townsfolk should laugh at her. But the deep sighs which she was unable to suppress, made people think she was labouring under some acute suffering. The sounds of the organ and chorus of voices ceased just as they arrived at the entrance of the church. The round matron was aware that the marriage ceremony was now to begin, and therefore endeavoured to push her way through the crowd; but in vain, for as often as she thought to squeeze her plump person into the body of the church, she was sure to be pushed back again with abusive words.
"Come, mother," said the girl, "let's go home. We are poor people, they'll not let us in; come away."
"What? the church is made for every one, poor or rich!" said her mother, indignantly; "make a little room, if you please, we can't see any thing!"
"What?" said the man, whom she addressed, turning to her his well-tanned face, with an immense bushy beard, "what! away with you! we'll not let any one pass. We are his most gracious highness's lansquenet; and our captain has ordered us not to let one soul of you go up to the holy altar. Morbleu! I am sorry to swear in the church; but I say, away with you!"
Staberl of Vienna, who was on the spot, interceded for the little girl, but would not consent to her mother entering the church. "Come here, my dear," he called her, "you can see very well here. There; now the priest is putting the ring on her finger, and joins their hands. If you will give me a kiss, I'll get you a better place;" and with these words, without waiting for an answer, he stretched out his hand towards Barbelle. She screamed aloud, and ran away, followed by her mother, who vented imprecations on townsfolk in general, and the unmannerly lansquenet.