"My sweet treasure!" answered the Duke, "the young Prince was only making a fool of you; therefore be content that things are no worse. For even if he had wedded you privately, it would have been all in vain, seeing that neither the princely widow nor the Elector of Brandenburg, his godfather, nor any of the princes of the holy Roman Empire, nor lastly, the Pomeranian States, would ever have permitted so unequal a marriage. Therefore, what the priest joined in Crummyn would have been put asunder next day by the tribunals. My poor nephew is a silly enthusiast not to have perceived this all along, before he put such absurdities in your head. That he talked gallantry to you was very natural, and I wished him all success; but that he should ever have talked of marriage shows him to be even sillier than I expected from his years."
Here Sidonia's tears burst forth anew. "Who would care for her now that her father was dead, and had left her penniless? All because he believed that old hypocrite of Wolgast more than his own daughter. Alas! alas! she was a poor orphan now! and all her possessions would be torn from her by her hard-hearted, avaricious brother. Yet surely his Grace might at least take pity on her innocence."
His Grace wondered much when he heard of Otto's death, for the letters brought by the market waggon from the honourable council, acquainting him with the matter, had not yet arrived, and he scratched behind his ear, and said, "It was an evil deed of that proud devil her father, to claim the Jena dues. He had got his answer at Wolgast, and ought to have left the dues alone. What right had he to break the peace of the land, to gratify his lust and greed? It was well that he was dead; but as concerning his testament, that must not be interfered with, he had no power over the property of individuals. Each one might leave his goods as best pleased him; yet he would make his treasurer write a letter in her favour to her brother Otto: that was all that he could do."
This threw Sidonia into despair; she fell at his feet, and told him, that let what would become of her, she would never go a step to Zachow, and her harsh brother would never give her one groschen, unless he were forced to it. His Grace ought to remember that it was by his advice she had gone to Wolgast, where all her misery had commenced; for by the traitorous conduct of the widow, there she had been robbed, not only of her good name, but also of her fortune. So his Grace comforted her, and said that as long as he lived she would want for nothing. He had a pretty house behind St. Mary's, and six young maidens lived there, who had nothing to do but spin and embroider, or comb out the beautiful herons' feathers as the birds moulted; for he had a large stock of herons close to the house; and there was a darling little chamber there, which she could have immediately for herself. As to clothes, they might all get the handsomest they pleased, and their meals were supplied from the ducal kitchen.
As his Grace ended, and lifted up Sidonia and kissed her, she wept and sighed more than ever. "Could he think this of her? No; she would never enter the house which was the talk of all Pomerania. If she consented, then, indeed, would the world believe all the falsehoods that were told of her—of her, who was as innocent as a child!" Hereupon his Grace answered stiff and stern (yet this was not his wont, for he was a right tender master), "Then go your ways. Into that house or nowhere else." (Alas! let every maiden take warning, by this example, to guard against the first false step. Amen, chaste Jesus! Amen.)
That evening Sidonia took up her abode in the house. But that same evening there was a great scandalum, and tearing of each other's hair among the girls. For one of them, named Trina Wehlers, was a baker's daughter from Stramehl, and on the occasion of Clara's wedding she had headed a procession of young peasants to join the bridal party, but Sidonia had haughtily pushed her back, and forbid them to approach. This Trina was a fine rosy wench, and my Lord Duke took a fancy to her then, so that she looked with great jealousy on any one that threatened to rob her of his favour. Now when Sidonia entered the house and saw the baker's daughter, she commenced again to play the part of the great lady, but the other only laughed, and mockingly asked her, "Where was the princely spouse, Duke Ernest of Wolgast? Would his Highness come to meet her there?"
Then Sidonia raged from shame and despair, that this peasant girl should dare to insult her, and she ran weeping to her chamber; but when supper was served, the scandalum broke out in earnest. For Sidonia had now grown a little comforted, and as there were many dainty dishes from the Duke's table sent to them, she began to enjoy herself somewhat, when all of a sudden the baker's daughter gave her a smart blow over the fingers with a fork. Sidonia instantly seized her by the hair; and now there was such an uproar of blows, screams, and tongues, that my gracious lord, the Duke, was sent for. Whereupon he scolded the baker's daughter right seriously for her insolence, and told her that as Sidonia was the only noble maiden amongst them, she was to bear rule. And if the others did not obey her humbly, as befitted her rank, they should all be whipped. His Grace wore a patch of black plaister on his chin, and attempted to kiss Sidonia again, but she pushed him away, saying that he must have told all that happened at Wolgast to these girls, otherwise how could the baker's daughter have mocked her about it.
Whereupon my gracious lord consoled her, and said that if she were quiet and well-behaved, he would take her with him to the Diet at Wollin, for all the young dukes of Pomerania were to attend it, and Prince Ernest amongst the number, seeing that he had summoned them all there, in order to give up the government of the land into their hands, as he was too old now himself to be tormented with state affairs.
When Sidonia heard this, hope sprang up within her heart, and she resolved to bear her destiny calmly.