This appeared to please the Princess, for she smiled slightly and then sighed; but gave his Grace a smart slap when he attempted to seize her hand and kiss it, saying—"Now, uncle, I told you to leave off this foolery."
At this moment the band outside struck up Duke Bogislaff's march—the same that was played before him in Jerusalem when he ascended the Via Dolorosa up to Golgotha; for it was the custom here to play this march half-an-hour before dinner, in order to gather all the household, knights, squires, pages, and even grooms and peasants, to the castle, where they all received entertainment. And ten rooms were laid with dinner, and all stood open, so that any one might enter under the permission of the Court Marshal. All this I must notice here, because Sidonia afterwards caused much scandal by these means. The music now rejoiced her greatly, and she began to move her little feet, not in a pilgrim, but in a waltz measure, and to beat time with them, as one could easily perceive by the motion underneath her mantle.
The Grand Chamberlain, Ulrich von Schwerin, now entered, and having looked at Sidonia with much surprise, advanced to kiss the hand of the Duke and bid him welcome to Wolgast. Then, turning to her Grace, he inquired if the twelve pages should wait at table to do honour to the Duke of Stettin. But the Duke forbade them, saying he wished to dine in private for this day with the Duchess and her two sons; the Grand Chamberlain, too, he hoped would be present, and Sidonia might have a seat at the ducal table, as she was of noble blood; besides, he had taken her likeness as Eve, and the first of women ought to sit at the first table. Hereupon the Duke drew forth the puppet, and called to Ulrich—"Here! you have seen my Adam in Treptow; what think you now of Eve? Look, dear cousin, is she not the image of Sidonia?"
At this speech both looked very grave. Ulrich said nothing; but her Grace replied, "You will make the girl vain, dear uncle." And Ulrich added, "Yes, and the image has such an expression, that if the real Eve looked so, I think she would have left her husband in the lurch and run with the devil himself to the devil."
While the last verse of the march was playing—"To Zion comes Pomerania's Prince"—they proceeded to dinner—the Duke and the Princes leading, while from every door along the corridor the young knights and pages peeped out to get a sight of Sidonia, who, having thrown off her mantle, swept by them in a robe of crimson velvet laced with gold.
When they entered the dining-hall, Prince Ernest was leaning against one of the pillars wearing a black Spanish mantle, fastened with chains of gold. He stepped forward to greet the Duke, and inquire after his health.
The Duke was well pleased to see him, and tapped him on the cheek, exclaiming—
"By my faith, cousin, I have not heard too much of you. What a fine youth you have grown up since you left the university."
But how Sidonia's eyes sparkled when (for his misfortune) she found herself seated next him at table. The Duchess now called upon Sidonia to say the "gratias;" but she blundered and stammered, which many imputed to modesty, so that Prince Ernest had to repeat it in her stead. This seemed to give him courage; for when the others began to talk around the table, he ventured to bid her welcome to his mother's court.
When they rose from table, Sidonia was again commanded to say grace; but being unable, the Prince came to her relief and repeated the words for her. And now the evil spirit without doubt put it into the Duke's head, who had drunk rather freely, to say to her Grace—