Part 7

To offset this piece of laxity they were unable to hinder these latter, the graybeards of the city, resolved, however, to enjoy another kind of spectacle on their own account, and thus they began to make their arrangements to have an execution performed on the very day when the Seldwyla people were to dwell within their walls, and thus to dampen at least, so far as they could, the unseemly spirit of merriment which otherwise would go unchecked. And so while the younger members of the council were busy with their preparations for the feast, the others quietly made arrangements for another show after their own heart, and for that purpose they selected a young, fatherless boy who was just then caught in the net of their barbarous laws. It was a very handsome boy of eleven, whose parents had both been engulfed in the recent wars, and who was being educated and taken care of by the town. That is to say, he had been put to board with the parish beadle, a conscienceless and pitiless scoundrel, and there the little fellow--a slender, vigorous and well-formed child enough--had been treated just like a domestic animal, the wife aiding her husband in the task. The boy had been named Dietegen, and this his baptismal name was all he really owned in the world. It was his sole piece of property, his past and his future. He was dressed in rags, and had never even had a holiday garment, so that if it had not been for his good looks he would have presented a miserable appearance. He had to sweep and dust, and to do all the tasks that usually fall to a maid servant, and whenever the beadle's wife did not happen to have anything to do for him in her own house she lent him out to women neighbors for a trifle, there to do anything that might be asked of him. They all thought him, in spite of his strength and skill to do any work demanded of him, a stupid fellow, and this because he obeyed silently all the orders he received and because he never remonstrated. Yet it was the truth that none of the women was able to look him in his fiery eyes for long, and these eyes would often wander about as keen as an eagle's.

Now several days before Dietegen had been sent on an errand to the cooper in order to fetch some vinegar for a lettuce salad that his foster parents wanted to prepare. Their vinegar the couple had been keeping for a long time customarily in a small jug, and this was almost black with age and had always been deemed cheap tin, having been bought many years ago by the mother of the beadle's wife for a couple of pennies from a peddler. But in reality the little jug was of silver. The cooper of whom the vinegar was to be purchased dwelt rather far, in a lonesome place near the city wall. As now the boy came walking along with his small vessel, an ancient Hebrew came past him with his bag, and threw a rapid glance at the curiously fashioned little jug, and stopped the boy with the request to be allowed to examine this vessel more closely. Dietegen handed it to him, and the Jew quickly and secretly scratched the surface of the vessel with his thumb nail, offering then to the astonished boy a pretty crossbow in exchange, and this he produced at once out of a bag made of moth-eaten otterskin, with a few bolts to boot. Boy-like, Dietegen at once seized the weapon and relinquished his small jug to the Jew, who then at once disappeared. Rejoicing in his good fortune the boy now began to aim and shoot at the small gate of the near-by door of a tower, and without being at all disturbed he continued this enticing sport, forgetting everything else, until dusk came and then moonlight, improving his aim steadily, and shooting by the bright light of the orb.

Meanwhile the beadle had also made a last inspection tour around the inside of the town walls, and had met with and held the Jew with his bag. Examining the latter he had with amazement recognized his own vinegar jug, and questioning the Jew the latter, in fear of his own neck, owned at once that it was of silver, and pretended that a young boy had forced it on him in lieu of a fine crossbow. Now the beadle ran and consulted a goldsmith, who on testing the vessel likewise pronounced it fine pure silver and of rarest workmanship. Thereupon the beadle and his wife, the latter now having joined him, became exceedingly angry, not only because they had had, without knowing it, for so many years such a valuable piece of property, but also because they had almost lost it.

The world to them seemed to be full of the grossest wrong; the child now appeared to them as their archenemy who had almost cheated them out of their eternal reward, the reward for their infinite merits and frugality. They suddenly pretended to have known for a long time that the small jug was of silver, and that it had always been so considered in their house. Cursing him bitterly they clamorously charged the little fellow with larceny, and while he, entirely unconscious of all this, was still engaged with his crossbow practice, and was hitting his goal more and more often, two groups of searchers were already out looking for him. At the head of the one party was the beadle, while the woman, his wife, was heading the other. Thus they soon found him, still busily engaged with his bow and bolts, and unpleasantly wakened from his occupation when surrounded by the thief-takers. And now only he remembered his errand and at the same time the loss of the small vessel. But he believed he had made a good bargain, and handed the beadle smilingly his crossbow, in order to pacify him. Notwithstanding this he was instantly bound and gagged, carried off to jail, and then examined. He admitted at once having exchanged the little pitcher for the Jew's crossbow, and did not even attempt to defend himself.

The poor little child was condemned to the gallows, and the time of his death set for the very day when the Seldwylians were to visit the people of Ruechenstein.

And indeed they did appear on the appointed day, making a gorgeous procession, in luminous colors and rich finery, with their town trumpeter to lead them. They were, however, all armed with swords and daggers, although that did not hinder them from bringing along a dozen of their most fearless ladies. These rode in the centre of the cavalcade, charming and richly attired, and even a number of pretty children were with them, costumed in the colors of Seldwyla and bearing gifts.

The young councilmen of Ruechenstein, their new-won friends, rode out some little distance without the city gates to welcome them, and led them a bit crestfallen within. The strong entrance gate had had that ominous black paint scratched off as much as had been found feasible, had then been plentifully whitewashed and decorated with wreaths. But just within this gate the guests found the whole contingent of Ruechenstein's town mercenaries in rank and file, clad in full armor and looking like brawny warriors indeed. These escorted the guests, rattling and clanging in their iron harness, through the shady and rather dark streets, with fierce mien. The people of the town peered mute but curious out of their windows, as though their guests had been beings from another world. When one of the gay Seldwylians gazed upwards at the ladies leaning out of their windows, these would at once duck and disappear. Their menfolk, though, flattened the tips of their long noses against the greenish window panes, in order to observe as closely as possible the spectacle of bare female necks, such as the Seldwyla ladies offered.

Thus, then, the whole cavalcade finally reached the huge hall inside the town house, and that looked ornate but forbiddingly austere. Walls and ceiling were decorated entirely with black-tinted oak, here and there gilt. A long, long banqueting board was covered with beautiful linen, and woven into it were foliage, stags, huntsmen and dogs of green silk picked out with thin gold wire. Above this were further spread dainty napkins of snowy white damask, and these again on nearer sight exhibited patterns woven into them representing rather broadly joyous scenes from Roman and Greek mythology, such as would have been least expected in this grave concourse. Thickly grouped there stood on this festal table everything which at that time belonged to a gala meal, and what particularly claimed the attention of the Seldwyla observers was a number of truly magnificent pieces of tableware--some of them being in repousse work, some round and some in relief, a glittering world of nymphs, fauns, nude demigods and heroes, with lovely feminine forms intermingled. Even the chief table ornament, a warship in solid silver, with sails spread and bellying in the breeze, otherwise very respectable and officially stiff, showed as its emblem a Galathea of the most opulent forms.

Along this table of enormous dimensions a number of the wives of councilors were slowly pacing to and fro, all of them dressed either in black or scarlet silks and satins, heavy lace covering bosom and neck up to the very chin. They did wear many gold chains, girdles and caps, encrusted with jewels in many cases, and on their fingers they had, over their gloves, priceless rings. And these ladies were not ugly to look at, but rather in most instances handsome and of regular features; many of them, too, showed a delicate complexion and their pretty oval cheeks were rosy. But nearly all had an unpleasant glance, severe and sour, so that it seemed doubtful whether they had ever smiled in their lives, save perhaps at nighttime after fooling their gullible husbands.

The mutual introductions were therefore not very cordial, and everybody seemed indeed glad when this ceremony was over and guests and hosts both sat down at table and the feelings of embarrassment could be concealed by the engrossing charms of eating and drinking. The Seldwylians were the first to recover their natural equanimity, and then there could be heard among them frequent outbursts of hilarity as they admired the dazzling table trappings. That indeed was to the liking of their hosts, and they were just on the point of starting a formal conversation on that topic, when the matter took a turn wholly unexpected by them. For the Seldwyla people, accustomed always to use their eyes, had quickly discovered the amorous and graceful topics which the weaver's art had embodied in the woof of this linen and the goldsmith's in the silver and goldware so liberally displayed before their eyes. After allowing, therefore, their ribald glances to dwell with a close scrutiny on the lustful scenes depicted here, many Seldwylians called the attention of their neighbors to it all, all smiles and good humor, and interpreted the true meaning of the scene in each instance, often naming Ovid or some other heathen author as the original source. Even the Seldwyla ladies did not refrain, but shared in this amusement of their husbands. The hosts at first were slow to understand this and were inclined to think it one of the childish tricks for which they were forever blaming their merry neighbors of Seldwyla, but as they finally likewise bent their glances on the things occasioning the outbursts of their guests, they were as though smitten with palsy. For it had never entered their minds before to look with attention at these table appointments, and had merely accepted, when ordered by them, the exquisite products of the loom or of the goldsmith's skill as finished ware without ever bothering their heads further about it, and nothing had been further from them than to cast critical glances at the subjects represented by these artisans, and it was thus reserved for their gay guests from Seldwyla to sharpen their vision so to speak. Now when looking closer and closer, they perceived what pagan horrors they had chosen to ornament their own board with, and they were struck dumb with painful amazement. But what irked them still more was what they deemed the lack of tact and decorum on the part of their guests who, instead of purposely overlooking such an involuntary blunder of their hosts actually magnified it and drew it into the full glare of publicity. According to their way of thinking what the Seldwylians ought to have done under these peculiar circumstances was to praise and pay attention to the costliness of the stuff out of which these implements had been fashioned, and not to go beyond that. The Ruechensteiner grandees now were obliged to smile with faces as sour as vinegar when a Seldwylian neighbor would call their attention to an exquisitely wrought silver Leda and the Swan, or to a Europa on the back of her bull. Their wives, however, showed their displeasure more openly, blushed and paled by turns with wrath, and were just on the point of demonstratively leaving the banquet when the mournful sound of a bell quickly reassured them. For it was the poor sinners' bell of Ruechenstein. A dull and confused din in the streets gave notice that young Dietegen was now being led to his shameful death. All the company rose from the table, and hastened to the windows, the Ruechensteiners purposely making room for their guests to enable these to view the sad spectacle plainly, while they themselves stood in the rear, an insidious grin on their sallow features.

A priest, a hangman with his helper, some court officials, and a few armed attendants of the council went slowly past, and at their head walked Dietegen, barefooted and clad only in a white, black-edged delinquent shift, his hands tied in the back, and led by the hangman at a rope. His golden hair fell in a shower down his white neck, and confused and appealingly he looked aloft at the houses which he passed. Under the portal of the town hall stood the boys and girls from Seldwyla, who had, after the manner of children, left the table and the weary banquet, and had hastened into the open air. When the pitiful delinquent saw these pretty and happy children, the like he had never yet perceived before, he wanted to stop a moment and talk to them, while tears were streaming down his pale cheeks. But the executioner roughly pushed him on, so that the train passed on and had soon disappeared from view. The Seldwyla ladies lost color when they watched this scene, and their men were seized with a deep dismay, since they at no time loved to see sights of this kind. They felt out of spirits and not at home with their hosts after such an exhibition, and thus they soon yielded to the urging of their womenfolk, and as politely as they could took leave of their grim hosts. The people of Ruechenstein, on the other hand, were satisfied with the triumph they had scored against their volatile guests, and thereby rendered almost complaisant towards them, so that both sides parted amicably. The hosts even escorted their honored guests, as they put it, to the town gate, and were talkative, gallant towards the ladies, and courteous.

Outside the gate the Seldwyla cavalcade met the small group of hangmen and their assistants, who passed them morosely. Behind them there came a single helper pushing a small cart whereon lay, in a plain pine coffin, the young delinquent's body. Shy and bitten with curiosity to watch this number of brilliantly attired persons, this fellow stopped for a moment, and turned aside, in order to let the procession file past him. He was placing the loose lid of the bier in its proper place, it having almost slid off and exposed the sight of the hanged.

Among the children of Seldwyla there was a seven-year-old maid, bold, pretty and curly, who had never ceased to weep since seeing the poor boy being led to the gallows, and refused to be consoled. And as the train of Seldwylians now slowly swept on, the child at the moment she came up with the cart and coffin, quickly sprang towards it, stood on its large wheel, and threw off the lid, so that the lifeless Dietegen lay exposed to view. At that moment he opened his eyes and drew a breath. For in the confusion of that day he had not been hanged according to traditional rules, and had been taken off the gallows too early, because his executioners were in a great hurry in the hope of returning to town in time to get some of the remnants of the feast. The bold little girl loudly exclaimed, "He is still alive! He is still alive!"

At once the women of Seldwyla surrounded the bier, and when they saw indeed the handsome pale boy move about and give signs of life, they took possession of him, removed him from the cart, and fully recalled him to this world by rubbing his stiffened joints, sprinkling him with water, making him swallow some wine, and using all their endeavors in other ways. The men indeed also gave their assistance, while the gentlemen of Ruechenstein stood by dazedly, and did not know what to say or do. When at last the boy again stood on his own feet, and gazed about him as though he had waked in paradise, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the hangman's assistant, and quite astounded that he, too, as he thought, had gone to heaven, he fled and squeezed in among the crowd of women. Touched and moved to tears, they begged with great earnestness of their stern neighbors to pardon the boy and to make them a gift of him, as a token of their new friendship. Their husbands joined in this petition, and finally, after a brief consultation amongst themselves, the Ruechensteiners yielded assent, saying that henceforth the youthful sinner was to be theirs. On this the pretty Seldwyla ladies and their young children rejoiced abundantly, and Dietegen went along with them just as he was, in his poor delinquent's shift.

It happened to be a fine mild summer evening, wherefore the Seldwyla folks, as soon as they had reached the crest of the mountain and therewith also their own territory, resolved to amuse themselves here in this delightful grove, on their own account, and to recover from the frightful experience on their neighbors' ground. And this all the more because there now approached a numerous reenforcement from Seldwyla itself, full of curiosity to learn what their luck had been in Ruechenstein. Thus it came to pass that the musicians had to intone a merry tune and next a dance, and the goblets and tankards were filled with the wine they had brought along, and then circulated quite rapidly.

During all these scenes Dietegen let his eyes roam all around, and all who saw him perceived clearly that he was indeed nothing worse than an innocent and harmless child, a notion which his tale, when asked to state the facts, amply confirmed. The Seldwyla women could hardly get their fill of the sight, wove a wreath of wildflowers for him, and placed it on his young head, so that in his long and ample shift he looked almost like a little saint. He won their hearts, and at last they kissed him to their full content, and when he had thus passed through the concourse of rivaling femininity they began anew with their kissing.

But the little girl who really had saved Dietegen from a horrible and premature death did not at all approve of this proceeding. Quite wroth she suddenly placed herself between the boy and the woman who just that moment was on the point of kissing him, and took him by the hand, leading him to a group of other children. Then the whole company burst out laughing, saying: "That is quite right. Little Kuengolt clings to her property! And she has taste likewise. Only see how well she and the boy look alongside of each other!"

Kuengolt's father, however, the chief forester of the town, remarked: "I like the looks of that boy. He has eyes that speak truth and good sense. If you gentlemen have no objection, I will take him along for the time being, since I have but one child, and I will try and make an honest huntsman out of him."

This proposal met the unanimous approval of the Seldwylians, and thus Kuengolt, well contented, did not let the boy's hand slip out of her fingers more, but kept tight hold of it. And indeed, these two did make a very comely pair. The little girl also wore a wreath on her head and was clad in green and red, the town's colors. Hence they went at the head of the whole merry procession like a picture from fairyland, in the midst of the gay townspeople. And thus they all in the glow of sunset poured down the mountain side on their way homewards. Soon, however, the chief forester separated from the procession and went on with the children on side paths to his cosy residence, which lay not far from the city itself in the forest. A double row of tall trees led to the main entrance, and there the demure wife of the forester sat now, and saw with amazement the approach of the two children.

The household servants also gathered, and while the wife gave the two hungry children an abundant supper her husband related in detail the adventures of the boy. The latter was now completely exhausted, and with that he felt cold in his flimsy costume, and hence the question was put who would share overnight his bed with him. But the servant maids as well as the men anxiously avoided to answer. They dreaded as unlucky and impious close touch with any one who had just been hanging from the gallows. But Kuengolt cried: "Let him share my bed. It is large enough for both of us."

And when everybody was laughing at this, her mother said pleasantly: "You are quite right, my little daughter." And looking closely at the boy she added: "From the very first moment I saw the poor little chap enter the door a strange foreboding crept over me, as though a good angel were coming who will yet bring us a blessing. That much is certain, according to my idea: he will not be of evil to us all!"

With that she took the two children into the adjoining bedchamber, next to the large one, and put them to bed. Dietegen, who was so sleepy that he scarcely noticed what was going on around him, instinctively went through the motions for disrobing. But since he was already, in a manner of speaking, in his shirt, his drowsy motions made such a ludicrous impression, especially upon the little girl, that she, already under her blanket, could not help screaming with mirth: "Oh, just watch the comical shirtmannikin! He is always trying to take off his spenser and boots, and yet he hasn't any!" Her mother, too, had to smile and said to the boy: "In God's name, go to bed in your poor sinner's shift! My poor boy, that shift is quite new and really of good linen. Truly, these wicked people of Ruechenstein at least do their atrocities with a certain amount of decency."

In saying which she wrapped the two little ones up well in their blankets, and could not forbear to kiss both of them, so that Dietegen was really better off than he had ever been in his whole life. But his eyes were already tightly closed and his soul in deep sleep. "But now he has not said his prayers at all," whispered Kuengolt in sorrow. Her mother replied: "Then you will do it for both of you, my little daughter!" and left the two. And indeed, the girl now said the Lord's prayer twice, once for herself, once for her new bedfellow. And then quiet reigned in the little chamber.