CHAPTER IX.
The Emperor Charles departed on the morning after the bestowal of theGolden Fleece, and two days later Barbara willingly obeyed the leech'sprescription to seek healing at the springs of Abbach on the Danube,a few miles south of Ratisbon, which was almost in the way of thosereturning thither from Landshut. The waters there had benefited theEmperor Charles fourteen years before, and Barbara remained there withFrau Traut and Lamperi, who had returned to her, until the trees had puton their gay autumn robes and were casting them off to prepare for therest of winter.
The hope of regaining the melody of her voice induced herconscientiously to follow the physician's prescriptions but, like thesulphur spring of Abbach,[??] they produced no considerable effect.
Barbara's conduct had also altered in many respects.
The girl who had formerly devoted great attention to her dress, nowoften needed to be reminded by Frau Dubois of her personal appearancewhen she went with her to walk or to church.
She avoided all intercourse with other visitors to the spring afterRatisbon acquaintances had intentionally shunned her.
The Wollers' country residence, where she had formerly been a welcomeguest for weeks every summer, was near Abbach. Anne Mirl was betrothed,and Nandl was on the eve of accepting a young suitor. Both were stillwarmly attached to their cousin, although they had been told that, by anopen love intrigue, she had forfeited the right to visit the respectablehome of modest maidens. But the man who had honoured her with his lovewas no less a personage than the Emperor Charles, and this circumstanceonly increased the sympathy which the sisters felt for theirmuch-admired friend.
In spite of their mother's refusal to permit them to ride to theneighbouring town and visit Barbara, they did so, that they might tryto comfort her; but though their unfortunate cousin received them andlistened to them a short time, she earnestly entreated them to obeytheir mother and not come again.
Frau Traut perceived that she not only desired to guard theinexperienced girls from trouble, but that their visit disturbed her.The thoughts which were in her mind so completely absorbed her that shenow studiously sought the solitude which she had formerly shunned like amisfortune.
Even Pyramus Kogel's short letter, informing her of her father'sconvalescence, and the news from the seat of war which Frau Trautcommunicated to her to divert her thoughts, and which she had usuallyanticipated with impatient expectation, awakened only a fleetinginterest. Toward the end of the first week in September her companioncould inform her that the Emperor Charles had met the Smalcaldsat Ingolstadt and, in spite of a severe attack of the gout, hadridden--with his aching foot in linen bandages instead of in thestirrup--from regiment to regiment, kindling the enthusiasm of histroops by fiery words.
Then Barbara at last listened with more interest, and asked for otherdetails.
Frau Dubois, to whom her husband from time to time sent messengers fromthe camp, now said that the encounter had not come to an actual battleand a positive decision, but his Majesty had heeded the shower ofbullets less than the patter of a hailstorm, and had quietly permittedAppian, the astronomer, to explain a chart of the heavens in his tent,though the enemy's artillery was tearing the earth around it.
But even this could not reanimate the extinguished ardour of Barbara'ssoul; she had merely said calmly: "We know that he is a hero. I hadexpected him to disperse the heretics as the wolf scatters the sheep anddestroy them at a single blow."
Then taking her rosary and prayer book, she went to church, as she diddaily at this time. She spent hours there, not only praying, but holdingintercourse with the image of the Madonna, from which she dill not averther eyes, as though it was a living being. The chaplain who had beengiven to her associated with this devout tendency of his penitent thehope that Barbara would decide to enter a convent; but she rebuffed inthe firmest manner every attempt to induce her to form this resolve.
In October the northeast wind brought cold weather, and Frau Trautfeared that remaining for hours in the chilly brick church would injureher charge's health, so she entreated Barbara to desist. But when thelatter, without heeding her warning, continued to visit the house of Godas before, and to stay the same length of time, Frau Dubois interposed afirm prohibition, and on this occasion she learned for the first timeto what boundlessly vehement rebellion her charge could allow passion tocarry her. True, soon after Barbara, with winning tenderness, besoughther forgiveness, and it was readily granted, but Frau Traut knew of noother expedient than to fix the first of November, which would come in afew days, for their return to Ratisbon.
Barbara was startled.
During the night her companion heard her weeping vehemently, and herkind heart led her to her bedside.
With the affectionate warmth natural to her, she entreated the unhappygirl to calm herself, and to open her troubled heart to one who feltas kindly toward her as a mother; and before these friendly words thedefiance, doubts, and fear which had closed Barbara's heart melted.
"You may take it from me," she cried, amid her streaming tears."What can a poor girl give it save want and shame? Its father, on thecontrary--If he adopts and rears it as his child--O Frau Traut! dare I,who already love it more than my own life, rob it of the happiness towhich it has a right? If the Emperor acknowledges it, whether it is aboy or a girl, merciful Heaven, to what Magnificence, what splendour,what honour my child may attain! My brain often reels when I think ofit. The little daughter of Johanna Van der Gheynst a Duchess of Parma,and why should he place the girl whom I shall perhaps give him in a morehumble position? Or if Heaven should grant me a son, his father willraise him to a still greater height, and I have already seen him beforeme a hundred times as he hangs the Fleece on the red ribbon round hisneck."
Here her voice, still uncertain, failed, but she allowed Frau Traut toclasp her to her heart and, in her joy at this decision, which relievedher of a grave anxiety, to kiss her brow and cheeks. She had at lastperceived, the kindly consoler assured the weeping girl, what the mostsacred duty commanded, and the course that promised to render her, afterso much suffering, one of the happiest of mothers. All that had hoveredbefore her as glittering dreams would be fulfilled, and when her child,as the Emperor's, took precedence of the highest and greatest in theland, she could say to herself that it owed this to the sacrifice whichshe, its mother, had voluntarily made for its sake.
Barbara had told herself the same thing in many lonely hours, and mostfrequently in the brick church at Abbach, opposite to the image ofthe Mater dolorosa. She whose intercession never remained unheard hadyielded up, with an aching heart, her divine son, and she must imitateher. And how much easier was her fate than that of the stainless virgin,who beheld her child, the Redeemer of the world, die upon the cross,while hers, if she resigned him, would attain the highest earthlyhappiness!
Frau Traut by no means overlooked the vanity of these motives. She wasonly too well aware that there is no greater boon for a child than themother's loyal, anxious love, and Barbara's delusion grieved her. Shewould gladly have cried: "Keep your child, overwhelm it with love, begood and unselfish, so that, in spite of your disgrace, it must honouryou." But the Emperor's command and her husband's wish were paramount.Besides, as Barbara was situated, it could not help being better for thechild if the father provided for its education.
The soul of her charge now lay before her like an open book. Thespectacle of the brilliant honour bestowed upon Duke Ottavio Farnese hadsowed in her heart the seeds which had now ripened to resolution. Shecould not know that the vivandiere's assistant on the highway, with herabandoned child, had cast the first germ into Barbara's mind. Moreover,she was content to be able to send such welcome tidings to the camp.The disclosure of the resolve which she had reached after such severeconflicts exerted a beneficial influence upon Barbara. Her eyes againsparkled brightly, and the indifference with which she had regardedeverything that happened to herself and those about her vanished.
For the first time she asked where she was to fi
nd shelter in Ratisbon;the Emperor's command closed Wolf's house against her; the Prebrunncastle was only a summer residence, unfit for winter use. So it wasnecessary to seek new quarters, and Barbara did not lack proposals.But the answer from camp must be awaited, and it came sooner than FrauDubois expected. The messenger who brought it was her husband. HisMajesty, he said, rejoiced at Barbara's decision, and had commissionedhim to take her at once to Ratisbon and lodge her in the Golden Cross.The imperial apartments were still at the monarch's disposal, and theowner of the house, whom Barbara did not wish to meet, had gone to Italyto spend the winter.
Herr Adrian did not mention what a favour the sovereign was showingBarbara by parting with his trusted servant for several days, but shetold herself so with joyful pride, for she had learned how greatlyCharles needed this man.
The Emperor had dismissed Quijada from attendance on his person. Heknew the Castilian's value as a soldier, and would have deemed himselfforgetful of duty had he withheld so able an assistant from the greatcause which he was leading.
At the end of the first week in November Barbara again entered theGolden Cross in Ratisbon. The great house seemed dead, but Adrian, inhis royal master's name, provided for the comfort of the women, who hadbeen joined by Sister Hyacinthe.
In the name of Frau Dubois, to whom his Majesty gave it up, Adrian tookpossession of the Golden Cross, and as such Barbara was presented to thenewly engaged servants, while his wife was known by them as a Frau Trautfrom the Netherlands.
No inhabitant of Ratisbon was informed of the return of their youngfellow-citizen, and Barbara only went out of doors with her companionearly in the morning or in the twilight, and always closely veiled. Butfew persons had seen her after her illness, and on returning home sheoften mentioned the old acquaintances whom she had met withoutbeing recognised by them. The apartments she occupied were warm andcomfortable. The harp and lute had been sent from Prebrunn with the restof her property, and though she would not have ventured to sing even asingle note, she resolved to touch their chords again. Playing on theharp afforded her special pleasure, and Frau Traut fancied she couldunderstand her thoughts while doing so. The tones often sounded asgentle as lullabies, often as resonant and impetuous as battle songs.In reply to a question from her companion, Barbara confessed that whileplaying she sometimes imagined that she beheld a lovely girl, sometimesa young hero clad in glittering armour, with the Golden Fleece on hisneck, rushing to battle against the infidels.
When the women were sitting together in the evening, Barbara urged hercompanion, who was familiar with the court and with Charles's formerlife, to tell her about the Netherlands and Spain, Brussels andValladolid, the wars, the monarch's wisdom, the journeys of Charles,his intercourse with men and women, his former love affairs, his marriedlife, his relatives and children, and again and again of Johanna Van derGheynst, the mother of the Duchess Margaret of Parma. In doing so theclever native of Cologne never failed to draw brilliant pictures of thesplendour of the imperial court. As a matter of course, Brussels, thefavourite residence of the Dubois couple, was most honoured in thenarrative, and Barbara could never hear enough of this superb city.Maestro Gombert had already aroused her longing for it, and Frau Trautmade her, as it were, at home there.
So December and Christmas flew by. New Year's and Epiphany also passed,and when January was over and the month of February began, a guestarrived in Ratisbon from the household of the Emperor, who was nowholding his court at Ulm. It was Dr. Mathys, the leech, who readilyadmitted that he had come partly by his Majesty's desire, partly frompersonal interest in Barbara's welfare.
The physician found her in the same mood as after the relapse. Obedient,calm, yielding, only often overpowered by melancholy and bitter thoughtsand feelings, yet, on the other hand, exalted by the fact that theEmperor Charles, for her sake, was now depriving himself also of thisman, whom he so greatly needed.
She awaited the fateful hour with anxious expectation. The twenty-fourthof February was the Emperor's birthday, and if it should come then, ifthe father and child should see the light of the world on the same dayof the almanac, surely it must seem to Charles a favourable omen.
And behold!
On the day of St. Matthias--that is, the twenty-fourth of February,Charles's birthday-at noon, Frau Traut, radiant with joy, could despatchthe waiting messenger to Ulm with the tidings that a son had just beenborn to his Majesty.
The next morning the child was baptized John by the chaplain whoaccompanied the women, because this apostle had been nearest to theSaviour's heart.
The young mother was not permitted to rejoice at the sight of her babe.Charles had given orders in advance what should be done hour by hour,and believed he was treating the mother kindly by refusing to allow herto enjoy the sight of the newborn child which could not remain with her.
This caused much weeping and lamenting, and such passionate excitementthat the bereaved mother nearly lost her life; but Dr. Mathys devotedthe utmost care to her, and did not leave Ratisbon until after threeweeks, when he could commit the nursing to the experienced SisterHyacinths.
But for the trouble in her throat, Barbara would have been physically aswell as ever; her mental suffering was never greater.
She felt robbed and desolate, like the bird whose nestlings are stolenby the marten; for all that might have made her ruined life precious hadbeen taken, and the man to whom she had surrendered her dearest treasuredid not even express, by one poor word, his gratitude and joy. No, heseemed to have forgotten her as well as her future.
Frau Traut had left her with the promise that she would sometimes sendher news of her boy's health, yet she, too, remained silent, and wasdeceiving her confidence. She could not know that the promise-breakerthought of her often enough, but that she had been most strictlyforbidden by her imperial master to tell the boy's mother his abode orto hold any further intercourse with her.
How little Charles must care for her, since he now showed such deepneglect and found no return for all that she had sacrificed to him savecruel sternness! Yet the precious gift for which he was indebted to hermust have afforded special pleasure to the man who attached such greatvalue to omens, for it gave him the right to cherish the most daringhopes for the future of his boy. The fact that he was born on hisfather's birthday seemed to her an especial favour of heaven, and theold chaplain, who still remained with her, had discovered other singularcircumstances which foreshadowed that the son would become the father'speer; for on the twenty-fourth of February Charles V had been crowned,and on the same day he had won at Pavia his greatest victory.
This had been the most brilliant day in the ruler's life, so rich insuccesses, and now it had also become the birthday of the boy whom shehad given him and resigned that he might lead it to grandeur, splendour,and magnificence.
Nothing was more improbable than that the man whose faithful memoryretained everything, and whose active mind discovered what escaped thenotice of others, should have overlooked this sign from heaven. And yetshe vainly waited for a token of pleasure, gratitude, remembrance. Howthis pierced the soul and corroded the existence of the poor desertedgirl, the bereaved mother, the unfortunate one torn from her own spherein life!
At last, toward the end of March, the message so ardently desiredarrived. A special courier brought it, but how it was worded!
A brief expression of his Majesty's gratification at the birth of thehealthy, well-formed boy; then, in blunt words, the grant of a smallannual income and an additional gift, with the remark that his Majestywas ready, to increase both generously, and, moreover, to give herambition every support, if Barbara would enter a convent. If she shouldpersist in remaining in the world, what was granted must be taken fromher as soon as she broke her promise to keep secret what his Majestydesired to have concealed.
The conclusion was: "And so his Majesty once more urges you to renouncethe world, which has nothing more important to offer you than memories,which the convent is the best place to cherish. There you will regai
nthe favour of Heaven, which it so visibly withdrew from you, andalso the regard of his Majesty, which you forfeited, and he in hisgraciousness, and in consequence of many a memory which he, too, holdsdear, would gladly show you again."
This letter bore the signature of Don Luis Quijada, and had been writtenby a poor German copyist, a wretched, cross-eyed fellow, whom Wolf hadpointed out to her, and whose hand Barbara knew. From his pen also camethe sentence under the major-domo's name, "The Golden Cross must bevacated during the month of April."
When Barbara had read these imperial decisions for the second and thethird time, and fully realized the meaning of every word, she clinchedher teeth and gazed steadily into vacancy for a while. Then she laughedin such a shrill, hoarse tone that she was startled at the sound of herown voice, and paced up and down the room with long strides.
Should she reject what the most powerful and wealthy sovereign in theworld offered with contemptible parsimony? No! It was not much, but itwould suffice for her support, and the additional gift was large enoughto afford her father a great pleasure when he came home.
Pyramus Kogel's last letter reported that his condition was improving.Perhaps he might soon return. Then the money would enable her to weavea joy into the sorrow that awaited him. It had always been a humiliatingthought that he had lost his own house and was obliged to live in ahired one, and at least she could free him from that.
It was evident enough that her pitiful allowance did not proceed fromthe Emperor's avarice; Charles only wished to force her to obey his wishto shut her for the rest of her life in a cloister. The mother of hisson must remain concealed from the world; he desired to spare him inafter years the embarrassment of meeting the woman whose birth was somuch more humble than his own and his father's. Want should drive herfrom the world, and, to hasten her flight, the shrewd adept in readinghuman nature showed her in the distance the abbess's cross, and triedthereby to arouse her ambition.
But in her childhood and youth Barbara had been accustomed to stillplainer living than she could grant herself in future, and she wouldhave been miserable in the most magnificent palace if she had beencompelled to relinquish her independence. Rather death in the Danubethan to dispense with it!
She was young, healthy, and vigorous, and it seemed like voluntarymutilation to resign her liberty at twenty-one. But even had she feltthe need of the lonely cell, quiet contemplation, and more severepenance than had been imposed upon her in the confessional, she wouldstill have remained in the world; for the more plainly the letter showedhow eagerly Charles desired to force her out of it, the more firmlyshe resolved to remain in it. How many hopes this base epistle haddestroyed; it seemed as though it had killed the last spark of love inher soul!
Too much kindness leads to false paths scarcely more surely than thecontrary, and the Emperor's cruel decision destroyed and hardenedmany of the best feelings in Barbara's heart, and prepared a place forresentment and hatred.
The great sovereign's love, which had been the sunshine of her life, waslost; her child had been taken from her; even the home that shelteredher, and which hitherto she had regarded as a token of its father'skindly care, was now withdrawn. A new life path must be found, butshe would not set out upon it from the Golden Cross, where her briefhappiness had bloomed, but from the place where she had experienced thepenury of her childhood and early youth.
The very next afternoon she moved into Wolf's house. Sister Hyacinthewas obliged to return to her convent, so no one accompanied her exceptFrau Lamperi. She had become attached to Barbara, and therefore remainedin her service instead of returning to the Queen of Hungary. True, shehad not determined to do so until her mistress had promised to remainonly a few weeks in Ratisbon at the utmost, and then move to Brussels,where she longed to be.
Ratisbon was no home for the Emperor's former favourite. Life in hernative city would have been one long chain of humiliations, now that shehad nothing to offer her fellow-citizens except the satisfaction of acuriosity which was not always benevolent.
But where should she go, if not to the country where her child's fatherlived, where, she had reason enough to believe, the infant would beconcealed, and where she might hope to see again and again at a distancethe man to whom hate united her no less firmly than love?
This prospect offered her the greatest attraction, and yet she desirednothing, nothing more from him except to be permitted to watch hisdestiny. It promised to be no happy one, but this fact robbed the wishof no charm.
Besides, the desire for a richer life again began to stir within hersoul, and what sustenance for the eye and ear Gombert, Frau Traut, andnow also Lamperi promised her in Brussels!
Her means would enable her to go there with the maid and live in a quietway. If her father forgave her and would join her in the city, she wouldrejoice. But he was bound to Ratisbon by so many ties, and had so manynew tales to relate in its taprooms, that he would certainly return toit. So she must leave him; it was growing too hot for her here.
She found old Ursel cheerful, and was less harshly received than ather last visit. True, Barbara came when she was in a particularly happymood, because a letter from Wolf stated that he already felt perfectlyat home in Quijada's castle at Villagarcia, and that Dona Magdalenade Ulloa was a lady of rare beauty and kindness of heart. Her musicaltalent was considerable, and she devoted every leisure hour to playingon stringed instruments and singing. True, there were not too many, forthe childless woman had made herself the mother of the poor and sickupon her estates, and had even established a little school where heassisted her as singing-master.
So Barbara was at least relieved from self-reproach for having broughtmisfortune upon this faithful friend. This somewhat soothed her sorelyburdened heart, and yet in her old, more than plain lodgings, with theirsmall, bare rooms, she often felt as though the walls were falling uponher. Besides, what she saw from the open window in Red Cock Street wasdisagreeable and annoying.
When evening came she went to rest early, but troubled dreams disturbedher sleep.
The dawn which waked her seemed like a deliverance, and directly aftermass she hurried out of the gate and into the open country.
On her return she found a letter from her father.
Pyramus Kogel was its bearer, and he had left the message that he wouldreturn the next day. This time her father had written with his own hand.The letters were irregular and crooked enough, but they were large, andthere were not too many of them. He now knew what people were sayingabout her. It had pierced the very depths of his old heart and darkenedhis life. But he could not curse her, because she was his only child,and also because he told himself how much easier her execrable vanityhad made the Emperor Charles's game. Nor would he give her up as lost,and his travelling companion. Pyramus, who was like a son to him, wasready to aid him, for his love was so true and steadfast that he stillwished to make her his wife, and offered through him to share everythingwith her, even his honourable name.
If misfortune had made her modest, if it had crushed her wickedarrogance, and she was still his own dear child, who desired herfather's blessing, she ought not to refuse the faithful fellow who wouldbring her this letter, but accept his proposal. On that, and upon thatalone, his forgiveness would depend; it was for her to show how much orhow little she valued it.
Barbara deciphered this epistle with varying emotions.
Was there no room for unselfish love in the breast of any man?
Her father, even he, was seeking to profit by that which united him tohis only child. To keep it, and to secure his blessing, she must giveher hand to the unloved soldier who had shown him kindness and won hisaffection.
She again glanced indignantly over the letter, and now read thepostscript also. "Pyramus," it ran, "will remain only a short time inGermany, and go from there directly to Brussels, where he is on duty,and thence to me in Antwerp."
Barbara started, her large eyes sparkled brightly, and a faint flushsuddenly suffused her cheeks. The "plus ultra" was forever
at an end forher. Her boy was living in Brussels near his father; there she belonged,and she suddenly saw herself brought so near this unknown, brilliantcity that it seemed like her real home. Where else could she hope torid herself of the nightmares that oppressed her except where she waspermitted to see the man from whom nothing could separate her, no matterhow cruelly he repulsed her?
The only suitable place for her, he thought, was the cloister. No man,he believed in his boundless vanity, could satisfy the woman who hadonce received in his love.
He should learn the contrary! He should hear--nay, perhaps he shouldsee--that she was still desired, in spite of the theft which he hadcommitted, in spite of the cruelty with which Fate had destroyed thebest treasure that it had generously bestowed.
The recruiting officer was certainly a handsome man and, moreover, ofnoble birth. Her father wished to have him for a son, and would forgiveher if she gave him the hand for which he shed.
So let him be the one who should take her to Brussels, and to whom shewould give the right of calling himself her husband.
Here her brow contracted in a frown, for the journey on which she was toset out with him would lead not only to the Netherlands, but through herwhole life, perhaps to the grave.
Deep resentment seized upon her, but she soon succeeded in conqueringit; only the question what she had to give her suitor in return for hisloyal love could not be silenced. Yet was it she who summoned him? Didhe not possess the knowledge of everything that might have deterredanother from wooing her? Had she not showed him more than plainly howill he had succeeded in gaining her affection? If, nevertheless, heinsisted upon winning her, he must take her as she was, though thehandsome young man would have had a good right to a heart full oflove. Hers, so long as the gouty traitor lived who had ruined her wholeexistence, could never belong entirely to another.
Once she had preferred the handsome, stately dancer to all other men.Might not this admiration of his person be revived? No--oh, no! And itwas fortunate that it was so, for she no longer desired to love--neitherhim nor any one else. On the other hand, she resolved to make hislife as pleasant as lay in her power. When what she granted him hadreconciled her father to her, and she was in Brussels, perhaps shewould find strength to treat Pyramus so that he would never repent hisfidelity.
In the afternoon she longed to escape from the close rooms into thefresh air, and turned her steps toward Prebrunn, in order to seeonce more the little castle which to her was so rich in beautiful andterrible memories.
On the way she met Frau Lerch. The old woman had kept her keennessof vision and, though Barbara tried to avoid her, the little ex-maidstopped her and asked scornfully:
"Here in Ratisbon again, sweetheart? How fresh you look after yoursevere illness!--yet you're still on shank's mare, instead of in thegold coach drawn by white horses."
Barbara abruptly turned her back upon her and went home.
As she was passing the Town Hall Pyramus Kogel left it, and she stoppedas he modestly greeted her.
Very distinguished and manly he looked in his glittering armour,with the red and yellow sash and the rapier with its large, flashingbasket-hilt at his side; yet she said to herself: "Poor, handsomefellow! How many would be proud to lean on your arm! Why do you care forone who can never love you, and to whom you will appear insignificant tothe end?"
Then she kindly clasped the hand which he extended, and permitted him toaccompany her home. On the Haidplatz she asked him whether he had readthe letter which he brought from her father.
He hesitatingly assented. Barbara lowered her eyes, and added softly:
"It is my own dear father to whom you have been kind, and my warmestgratitude is due to you for it."
The young officer's heart throbbed faster; but as they turned into RedCock Street she asked the question:
"You are going from here to Brussels, are you not?"
"To Brussels," he repeated, scarcely able to control his voice.
She raised her large eyes to him, and, after a hard struggle, the wordsescaped her lips:
"I learned in Landshut, and it was confirmed by my father's letter, thatyou are aware of what I am accused, and that you know--I committed thesin with which they charge me."
In the very same place where, on an evening never to be forgotten, hehad received the first sharp rebuff from Barbara, she now confessed herguilt to him--he doubtless noticed it. It must have seemed like a signfrom heaven that it was here she voluntarily approached him, nay, as itwere, offered herself to him. But he loved her, and he would have deemedit unchivalrous to let her feel now that their relation to one anotherhad changed. So he only exclaimed with joyous confidence:
"And yet, Barbara, I trustfully place happiness and honour in yourbeloved hands. You have long been clear to me, but now for the firsttime I believe confidently and firmly that I have found in you thevery wife for me. The bitter trial imposed upon you--I knew it inLandshut--bowed your unduly obstinate nature, and if you only knewhow well your modest manner becomes you! So I entreat permission toaccompany you home."
Barbara nodded assent, and when he had mounted the steep staircase ofthe house before her he stopped in front of the narrow door, and a proudsense of satisfaction came over him at the thought that the vow which hehad made in this spot was now fulfilled.
Her father had failed to bend this refractory, wonderfully beautifuliron; he had hoped to try with better fortune, but Fate had anticipatedhim, and he was grateful.
Full of blossoming hopes, he now asked, with newly awakened confidence,whether she would permit him to cross her threshold as a suitor andbecome his dear and ardently worshipped wife, and the low "Yes" which hereceived in response made him happy.
A few days after he married her, and journeyed with her on horseback tothe Netherlands.
On the way tidings of the battle of Muhlberg reached them. The EmperorCharles had utterly routed the Protestants. He himself announced hisgreat victory in the words, "I came, I saw, and God conquered."
When Pyramus told the news to his young wife, she answered quietly, "Whocould resist the mighty monarch!"
In Brussels she learned that the Emperor had taken the Elector of Saxonycaptive on the battlefield, but the Landgrave of Hesse had been betrayedinto his power by a stratagem which the Protestants branded as basetreachery, and used to fill all Germany with the bitterest hatredagainst him; but here Barbara's wrath flamed forth, and she upbraidedthe slanderous heretics. It angered her to have the great sovereigndenied his due reverence in her own home; but secretly she believed inthe breach of faith.