The Burgomaster's Wife — Complete

by Georg Ebers

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  Bessie had eaten a piece of roast pigeon, the first morsel for severaldays, and there was as much rejoicing over it in the Van der Werffhousehold, as if some great piece of good fortune had befallen thefamily. Adrian ran to the workshops and told the men, Peter went to thetown-hall with a more upright bearing, and Maria, who was obliged to goout, undertook to tell Wilhelm's mother of the good results produced byher son's gift.

  Tears ran down the old lady's flabby cheeks at the story and, kissingthe burgomaster's wife, she exclaimed:

  "Yes, Wilhelm, Wilhelm! If he were only at home now. But I'll call hisfather. Dear me, he is probably at the town-hall too. Hark, Frau Maria,hark--what's that?"

  The ringing of bells and firing of cannon had interrupted her words; shehastily threw open the window, crying:

  "From the Tower of Pancratius! No alarm-bell, firing and merry-ringing.Some joyful tidings have come. We need them! Ulrich, Ulrich! Come backat once and bring us the news. Dear Father in Heaven!

  "Merciful God! Send the relief. If it were only that!"

  The two women waited in great suspense. At last Wilhelm's brother Ulrichreturned, saying that the messengers sent to Delft had succeeded inpassing the enemy's ranks and brought with them a letter from theestates, which the city-clerk had read from the window of the town-hall.The representatives of the country praised the conduct and enduranceof the citizens, and informed them that, in spite of the damage done tothousands of people, the dykes would be cut.

  In fact, the water was already pouring over the land, and the messengershad seen the vessels appointed to bring relief. The country surroundingLeyden must soon be inundated, and the rising flood would force theSpanish army to retreat, "Better a drowned land than a lost land," wasa saying that had been decisive in the execution of the violent measureproposed, and those who had risked so much might be expected to shrinkfrom no sacrifice to save Leyden.

  The two women joyously shook hands with each other; the bells continuedto ring merrily, and report after report of cannon made the window-panesrattle.

  As twilight approached, Maria turned her steps towards home. It waslong since her heart had been so light. The black tablets on thehouses containing cases of plague did not look so sorrowful to-day, theemaciated faces seemed less pitiful than usual, for to them also helpwas approaching. The faithful endurance was to be rewarded, the cause offreedom would conquer.

  She entered the "broad street" with winged steps. Thousands of citizenshad flocked into it to see, hear, and learn what might be hoped, or whatstill gave cause for fear. Musicians had been stationed at the cornersto play lively airs; the Beggars' song mingled with the pipes andtrumpets and the cheers of enthusiastic men. But there were also throngsof well-dressed citizens and women, who loudly and fearlessly mockedat the gay music and exulting simpletons, who allowed themselves to becajoled by empty promises. Where was the relief? What could the handfulof Beggars--which at the utmost were all the troops the Prince couldbring--do against King Philip's terrible military power, that surroundedLeyden? And the inundation of the country? The ground on which the citystood was too high for the water ever to reach it. The peasants had beeninjured, without benefitting the citizens. There was only one means ofescape--to trust to the King's mercy.

  "What is liberty to us?" shouted a brewer, who, like all his companionsin business, had long since been deprived of his grain and forbidden tomanufacture any fresh beer. "What will liberty be to us, when we're coldin death? Let whoever means well go the town-hall and demand a surrenderbefore it is too late."

  "Surrender! The mercy of the King!" shouted the citizens.

  "Life comes first, and then the question whether it shall be free orunder Spanish rule, Calvanistical or Popish!" screamed a master-weaver."I'll march to the town-hall with you."

  "You are right, good people," said Burgomaster Baersdorp, who, clad inhis costly fur-bordered cloak, was coming from the town-hall and hadheard the last speaker's words. "But let me set you right. To-day thecredulous are beginning to hope again, and the time for pressing yourjust desire is ill-chosen. Wait a few days and then, if the relief doesnot appear, urge your views. I'll speak for you, and with me many agood man in the magistracy. We have nothing to expect from Valdez, butgentleness and kindness. To rise against the King was from the first awicked deed--to fight against famine, the plague and death is sin andmadness. May God be with you, men!"

  "The burgomaster is sensible," cried a cloth-dyer.

  "Van Swieten and Norden think as he does, but Meister Peter rulesthrough the Prince's favor. If the Spaniards rescue us, his neck will bein danger, when they make their entrance into the city So no matter whodies; he and his are living on the fat of the land and have plenty."

  "There goes his wife," said a master-weaver, pointing to Maria. "Howhappy she looks! The leather business must be doing well. Holloa--FrauVan der Werff! Holloa! Remember me to your husband and tell him, hislife may be valuable; but ours are not wisps of straw."

  "Tell him, too," cried a cattle-dealer, who did not yet seem to havebeen specially injured by the general distress, "tell him oxen can beslaughtered, the more the better; but Leyden citizens--"

  The cattle-dealer did not finish his sentence, for Herr Aquanus had seenfrom the Angulus what was happening to the burgomaster's wife, cameout of the tavern into the street, and stepped into the midst of themalcontents.

  "For shame!" he cried. "To assail a respectable lady in the street! Arethese Leyden manners? Give me your hand, Frau Maria, and if I hear asingle reviling word, I'll call the constables. I know you. The gallowsHerr Van Bronkhorst had erected for men like you, is still standing bythe Blue Stone. Which of you wants to inaugurate them?"

  The men, to whom these words were addressed, were not the bravest ofmortals, and not a syllable was heard, as Aquanus led the young wifeinto the tavern. The landlord's wife and daughter received her in theirown rooms, which were separated from those occupied by guests of theinn, and begged her to make herself comfortable there until the crowdhad dispersed. But Maria longed to reach home, and when she said shemust go, Aquanus offered his company.

  Georg von Dornburg was standing in the entry and stepped back with arespectful bow, but the innkeeper called to him, saying:

  "There is much to be done to-day, for many a man will doubtless indulgehimself in a glass of liquor after the good news. No offence, Frau Vander Werft; but the Junker will escort you home as safely as I--and you,Herr von Dornburg--"

  "I am at your service," replied Georg, and went out into the street withthe young wife.

  For a time both walked side by side in silence, each fancying he or shecould hear the beating of the other's heart. At last Georg, drawing along breath, said:

  "Three long, long months have passed since my arrival here. Have I beenbrave, Maria?"

  "Yes, Georg."

  "But you cannot imagine what it has cost me to fetter this poor heart,stifle my words, and blind my eyes. Maria, it must once be said--"

  "Never, never," she interrupted in a tone of earnest entreaty. "I knowthat you have struggled honestly, do not rob yourself of the victorynow."

  "Oh! hear me, Maria, this once hear me."

  "What will it avail, if you oppress my soul with ardent words? I mustnot hear from any man that he loves me, and what I must not hear, youmust not speak."

  "Must not?" he asked in a tone of gentle reproach, then in a gloomy,bitter mood, continued: "You are right, perfectly right. Even speech isdenied me. So life may run on like a leaden stream, and everything thatgrows and blossoms on its banks remain scentless and grey. The goldensunshine has hidden itself behind a mist, joy lies fainting in my heart,and all that once pleased me has grown stale and charmless. Do yourecognize the happy youth of former days?"

  "Seek cheerfulness again, seek it for my sake."

  "Gone, gone," he murmured sadly. "You saw me in Delft, but you did notknow me thoroughly. These eyes were like two mirrors of fortune in whichevery object was charmingly tr
ansfigured, and they were rewarded; forwherever they looked they met only friendly glances. This heart thenembraced the whole world, and beat so quickly and joyously! I often didnot know what to do with myself from sheer mirth and vivacity, and itseemed as if I must burst into a thousand pieces like an over-loadedfirelock, only instead of scattering far and wide, mount straight up toHeaven. Those days were so happy, and yet so sad--I felt it ten timesas much in Delft, when you were kind to me. And now, now? I still havewings, I still might fly, but here I creep like a snail--because it isyour will."

  "It is not my wish," replied Maria. "You are dear to me, that I maybe permitted to confess--and to see you thus fills me with grief. Butnow--if I am dear to you, and I know you care for me--cease to tortureme so cruelly. You are dear to me. I have said it, and it must bespoken, that everything may be clearly understood between us. You aredear to me, like the beautiful by-gone days of my youth, like pleasantdreams, like a noble song, in which we take delight, and which refreshesour souls, whenever we hear or remember it--but more you are not, moreyou can never be. You are dear to me, and I wish you to remain so, butthat you can only do by not breaking the oath you have sworn."

  "Sworn?" asked Georg. "Sworn?"

  "Yes, sworn," interrupted Maria, checking her steps. "On Peter's breast,on the morning of his birthday--after the singing. You remember it well.At the time you took a solemn vow; I know it, know it no less surely,than that I myself swore faith to my husband at the altar. If you cangive me the lie, do so."

  Georg shook his head, and answered with increasing warmth:

  "You read my soul. Our hearts know each other like two faithful friends,as the earth knows her moon, the moon her earth. What is one withoutthe other? Why must they be separated? Did you ever walk along a forestpath? The tracks of two wheels run side by side and never touch. Theaxle holds them asunder, as our oath parts us."

  "Say rather--our honor."

  "As our honor parts us. But often in the woods we find a place where theroad ends in a field or hill, and there the tracks cross and intersecteach other, and in this hour I feel that my path has come to an end. Ican go no farther, I cannot, or the horses will plunge into the thicketand the vehicle be shattered on the roots and stones."

  "And honor with it. Not a word more. Let us walk faster. See the lightsin the windows. Everyone wants to show that he rejoices in the goodnews. Our house mustn't remain dark either."

  "Don't hurry so. Barbara will attend to it, and how soon we must part!Yet you said that I was dear to you."

  "Don't torture me," cried the young wife, with pathetic entreaty.

  "I will not torture you, Maria, but you must hear me. I was in earnest,terrible earnest in the mute vow I swore, and have sought to releasemyself from it by death. You have heard how I rushed like a madman amongthe Spaniards, at the storming of the Boschhuizen fortification in July.Your bow, the blue bow from Delft, the knot of ribbons the color of thesky, fluttered on my left shoulder as I dashed upon swords and lances. Iwas not to die, and came out of the confusion uninjured. Oh! Maria, forthe sake of this oath I have suffered unequalled torments. Release mefrom it, Maria, let me once, only once, freely confess--"

  "Stop, Georg, stop," pleaded the young wife. "I will not, must not hearyou-neither to-day, nor tomorrow, never, never, to all eternity!"

  "Once, only once, I will, I must say to you, that I love you, that lifeand happiness, peace and honor--"

  "Not one word more, Junker von Dornburg. There is our house. You areour guest, and if you address a single word like the last ones to yourfriend's wife--"

  "Maria, Maria--oh, don't touch the knocker. How can you so unfeelinglydestroy the whole happiness of a human being--"

  The door had opened, and the burgomaster's wife crossed the threshold.Georg stood opposite to her, held out his hand as if beseeching aid, andmurmured in a hollow tone:

  "Cast forth to death and despair! Maria, Maria, why do you treat methus?"

  She laid her right hand in his, saying:

  "That we may remain worthy of each other, Georg."

  She forcibly withdrew her icy hand and entered the house; but hewandered for hours through the lighted streets like a drunken man, andat last threw himself, with a burning brain, upon his couch. A smallvolume, lightly stitched together, lay on a little table beside the bed.He seized it, and with trembling fingers wrote on its pages. The penciloften paused, and he frequently drew a long breath and gazed withdilated eyes into vacancy. At last he threw the book aside and watchedanxiously for the morning.