First Course.—1. A soup; 2. An egg-soup, with saffron, peppercorns, and honey thereon; 3. Stewed mutton, with onions strewed thereon; 4. A roasted capon, with stewed plums.
Second Course.—1. Ling, with oil and raisins; 2. Beef, baked in oil; 3. Eels, with pepper; 4. Dried fish, with Leipsic mustard.
Third Course.—1. A salad, with eggs; 2. Jellies strewed with almond and onion seed; 3. Omelettes, with honey and grapes; 4. Pastry, and many other things besides.
Fourth Course.—1. A roast goose with red beet-root, olives, capers, and cucumbers; 2. Little birds fried in lard, with radishes; 3. Venison; 4. Wild boar, with the marrow served on toasted rolls. In conclusion, all manner of pastry, with fritters, cakes, and fancy confectionery of all kinds.
So her Grace selected something from each dish herself, and despatched it to Sidonia by her maid; but the maiden would none of them, and sent all back with a message that she had no heart to gormandise and feast; but her Grace might send her some bread and water, which was alone fitting for a poor prisoner to receive.
The young men could bear this no longer, their patience was quite exhausted, and their courage rose as the wine-cups were emptied. So at length Prince Ernest whispered to his brother Bogislaus to put in a good word for Sidonia. He refused, however, and Prince Ernest was ashamed to name her himself; but some of the young pages who waited on her Grace were bold enough to petition for her pardon, whereupon her Grace gave them a very sharp reproof.
After dinner the Duchess and Prince Bogislaus went up the stream in a pleasure-boat to try the tame sea-gull, and her Grace requested Lord Ulrich to accompany them. But he answered that he was more necessary to the castle that evening than a night-watch in a time of war, particularly if the young Prince was to have Rostock beer play from the fountains in place of water.
And soon his words came true, for when the Duchess had sailed away the young men began to drink in earnest, so that the wine ran over the threshold down the great steps, and the peasants and boors who were going back and forward with dried wood to the ducal kitchen, lay down flat on their faces, and licked up the wine from the steps (but the Almighty punished them for this, I think, for their children now are glad enough to sup up water with the geese).
Meanwhile many of the youths sprang up, swearing that they would free Sidonia; others fell down quite drunk, and knew nothing more of what happened. Then old Ulrich flew to the corridor, and marched up and down with his drawn dagger in his hand, and swore he would arrest them all if they did not keep quiet; that as to those who were lying dead drunk like beasts, he must treat them like other beasts—whereupon he sends to the castle fountain for buckets of cold water, and pours it over them. Ha! how they sprang up and raged when they felt it; but he only laughed and said—if they would not hold their peace he would treat them still worse; they ought to be ashamed of their filthiness and debauchery. [Footnote: Almost all writers of that age speak of the excesses to which intoxication was carried in all the ducal courts, but particularly that of Pomerania.]
But now to the uproar within was added one from without, for when the fountains began to play with Rostock beer, all the town ran thither, and drank like leeches, while they begged the serving-wenches to bring them loaves to eat with it. How the old shoemaker threw up his cap in the air, and shouted—"Long live her Grace! no better Princess was in the whole world—they hoped her Grace might live for many years and celebrate every birthday like this!" Then they would pray for her right heartily, and the women chattered and cackled, and the children screamed so that no one could hear a word that was saying, and Sidonia tried for a long time in vain to make them hear her. At last she waved a white kerchief from the window, when the noise ceased for a little, and she then began the old song, namely, "Would they release her?"