CHAPTER II.

WITCH-SABBATH.

The satyrs did not ask my name when I joined their band; but bestowed one on me with the mask. They did not select their names from the calendar, but chose the appellations of distinguished satanic personages--as, for instance, there was a Belial; a Semiazaz; a Lucifer; Mephistopholes; Belzebub; Azazel; Samiel; Dromo; Asmodens, Dopziher, Flibbertigibbet, and so on.

The leader was Astaroth; me they called Belphegor, and my "blood-comrade" Behoric.

The way a blood-comradeship was formed was this: The two men slashed their right arms, and each drank of the blood gushing from the arm of the other. This was an alliance of the first degree. A second comradeship was formed by two men pricking their names into each other's arms. Both ceremonies were performed only on witch-sabbath.

Great privileges were associated with blood-comradeship. The comrades shared everything; they belonged to each other. Mine is thine, and thine mine.

If one of them said: I want this, or that; the other had to give it to him.

Whatever one commanded the other had to obey; and if one comrade wanted to exchange bodies with the other, the latter was obliged to consent and--

"But that is impossible," here interrupted the prince.

"No it isn't," spoke up the chair with like decision, "Johann Magus proves conclusively that such exchanges have been known to take place."

"Well, if it is possible," returned his highness, "I should like, if your honor and I were 'blood-comrades,' to see how we would manage such an exchange! There's room enough in my hide for three like you; but how I could get into yours puzzles me!"

The prisoner proceeded to explain how it might be accomplished:

The entire body undergoes a change; the larger becomes smaller, and _vice versa_; so that an exchange is easily effected. It needs only the consent of both parties. All sorts of complications may arise from such an exchange, though. Suppose I were a bridegroom, and my blood-comrade should suggest an exchange of bodies; or, if I were on my way to the gallows, and I should ask to exchange?

One day the leader of the band said to me:

"Belphegor, you must marry. You will not be a genuine satyr until you are mated with a female member of our band."

"But where are the ladies? I have not yet seen any of them," I asked.

"I have a bride ready for you, my youngest sister Lilith. You shall see her very soon."

I knew that a Lilith had tempted Father Adam to be untrue to Mother Eve; if she and the captain's sister were one and the same, then she must be considerably older than I. So I said:

"Does she wear a mask?"

"Certainly."

"Then I'll marry her!"

And so it was settled that I should become the leader's brother-in-law.

In a subterranean cavern in the Black Forest our wedding was celebrated. The entire company of satyrs were assembled to witness the ceremony, and when the numerous torches were lighted, the cavern looked like an immensely large church with this difference: everything was inverted. The images of the saints stood on their heads; even the crucifix in the chancel was upside down. The organ's base was against the ceiling; the winged cherubs hovered overhead feet upward; the bells swung with the clappers standing upright, and the choir chanted the psalm backward. The priest who performed the ceremony had the most peculiar legs; one was at least a foot shorter than the other; and when an acolyte removed the mitre, the father's head came off with it. Asafoetida instead of incense was burned in the censer.

My bride, whom I saw now for the first time, was robed in garments far more costly and magnificent than any I had ever seen on my regal wife, Sumro Begum. The fine clothes and gew-gaws concealed the contours of her form, and a heavy gold-embroidered veil completely hid her face. The priest made us repeat the marriage service backward; and when he bade us inscribe our names in the register I took good care to look closely at my wife's hands. They were encased in gloves, but I could see that the finger nails were long and sharp--which did not augur favorably for me should there arise any domestic differences between us.

Her voice was youthful enough; she did not pronounce P like M, from which I concluded that she still had teeth.

We left the church to the music of the organ. I led my bride on my arm to the wagon waiting for us at the entrance to the cavern. It was a large, heavy vehicle, roomy enough for a dozen persons, and harnessed to it were six stag-beetles.

"How in the devil's name are these beetles going to drag such a heavy vehicle?" I cried angrily. "Six horses couldn't move it."

"No, of course they couldn't!" assented my wife. "The axles need greasing. Here, rub some of this ointment on them."

I obeyed, and greased the axles with the contents of an agate box Lilith held in her hand. The entire wedding company now sprang on the wagon, leaving only the driver's seat for me and my bride. Lilith took the reins; the six beetles spread their wings, and off we went--the heavy wagon with its heavier load flying as swiftly and lightly through the air as thistle-down before a gale.

I thought it an excellent chance to get a sight of my bride's face while both her hands were occupied with the reins, and quickly flung back her veil.

Horror! the blood froze in my veins. They were the repulsive features of the witch I had heard boast on the _kempenei_, that she would catch me yet, and prepare me for the bridle.

Beyond a doubt she was Father Adam's temptress, for there were wrinkles enough on her hideous face to represent the many centuries which had passed since her little affair with the first man; while, for the development of such a moustache from the delicate peach-down, which makes a woman's lips so kissable, would require many a cycle of time!

"I will jump from the wagon!" I cried in terror.

"Better put your arms around me to keep from falling out!" laughed my terrible bride, and then I noticed for the first time that we were at least five hundred feet above the earth.

To force me to adopt her suggestion, Lilith guided the beetles toward the spire of the Cologne Cathedral, against which we struck with such violence that to save myself from tumbling from my seat I had to fling my arm around Lilith's waist, at which the entire company laughed uproariously.

At last, to my great relief, we descended to the earth, and alighted in a lonely forest, at another of the witches' meeting places, where we were greeted by a weird company that assembled from all quarters of the globe. They came through the air, riding on brooms, on chairs, on benches--

"I don't believe a single word of the ridiculous story!" here emphatically exclaimed the prince.

"I do," with equal emphasis affirmed the chair. "Johannes de Kembach has described witches' journeys in almost the same language; and the learned Majolus testifies to the flying wagon, which a servant in mistake greased with witch ointment instead of axle grease. Moreover, a similar tale is related by Torquemada, in his Hexameron--a recognized authority on such matters."

The prisoner continued his confession:

The witches, as I said, came through the air accompanied by their gallants; the demons rose, with their attendants, from the ground. Among the latter were several of the celebrities from whom the satyrs had borrowed the name they bore.

Semiazaz is the jester of the demon-crew, also the musician; and when he plays, all the rest have to dance. His nose is a clarionet; he plays it with his ears instead of his fingers with which he thrums on the skeleton ribs of a cow, as on a harp; and he beats the drum with his tail.

Behoric, my blood-comrade's god-father, is a huge fellow with an elephant's trunk, with which he signs his name. That is why N. P. (_nasu propria_) instead of M. P. (_manu propria_) is always appended to this demon's signature. Behoric is also an elegant cavalier. He wears his tail jauntily over one shoulder, and fans himself, when he gets too warm, with the brush at the tip.

All of the demons, with a single exception, had wings like a bat. My namesake alone differed in this respect from his fellows. His wings were formed from the quills which have been used on earth to sign and write documents worthy of the infernal regions.

There was the quill used by Pilate to sign the accusation against Jesus Christ, and the release of Barabbas; the quill with which Aretino indited his sonnets; the quill used by Queen Elizabeth to sign Mary Stuart's death sentence; the quill with which Catharine de Medici ordered the horrors of St. Bartholomew's night; the quill with which Pope Leo X. wrote indulgences for money; the quill with which Pope Innocent wrote the words: "_Sint ut sunt aut non sint_;" the quill with which a distinguished Archbishop wrote his ambiguous answer: "_Reginam occidere nolite timere bonum est_;" the quill that wrote at Shylock's order the contract for a pound of human flesh; the quill used by the mortal foe of the Foscari to write in his book "_La Pagata_;" the quill with which King Philip signed the death warrant of his son; the quill with which Tetzel scrawled his pamphlet attacking Luther--and all the rest of the quills which have been used for such like infamous deeds, were to be found in Belphegor's wings.

They were gigantic wings, too, much longer than those of roc; and whenever Behoric needed a pen he would pluck from them the quill which best suited the document he wanted to sign. After all the demons and witches were assembled they began to plan evil deeds; and my bride being the heroine of the hour, she had the right to offer the first suggestion:

"There is an inn near the '_kempenei_,'" she began, "whose owner is in league with the commandant of Bilsen to counterfeit money, and waylay travellers. The counterfeit money is started into circulation by the inn-keeper, who gives it to the caravans which stop at his house for refreshment, in exchange for the genuine money they leave with him. This publican has become repentant, and wants to atone for his misdeeds. He confessed his criminal practices in a letter to the governor, and told where the commandant fabricated the false coin. This letter I managed to have conveyed to the commandant instead of to the governor, and tonight, the former with his troops is going to pay a visit to the inn. What say you, friends: how many souls shall we send to hell?"

"All of them! All of them!" yelled the witches. "We will have some fun this night! Ho, Lucifer! We await you!"

A terrific noise and rumbling was heard, and the ground opened, as when an earthquake cleaves the crust of the globe. From the abyss rose his infernal majesty, the king of evil, before whom the entire company knelt--or rather squatted on their heels--

"What was he like?" queried the prince.

I cannot answer that question, your highness--and for a very good reason, as will be learned further on. When Lucifer appeared all the witches disrobed--

"Not to the buff?" again interrupted the prince.

Yes, your highness, and further. They took off their skins, too; and when their hideous, wrinkled, warty hides were stripped off, they were the most beautiful and fascinating fairies.

My Lilith was more transcendently lovely than any image of a goddess I ever saw--she was perfect beauty idealized! Your highness will understand now why I had no eyes for the prince of darkness. I had lost command of my head--for one kiss from Lilith's ravishing lips I would have bonded my soul to the devil.

Behoric, the real demon, for whom my blood-comrade was called, now took a black book from his knapsack, and bade his namesake step forward to be stigmatized. This was accomplished as follows: Behoric plucked a quill from Belphegor's wings, and with the nib made tiny punctures in my comrade's arm, thus forming letters. After making a puncture in the flesh he would make a dot with the bloody quill-point on a page in the black book. When his task was finished, the name "Behoric" gleamed in red letters on my comrade's arm; and in letters of flame on the page in the black book.

The demon then presented to his namesake a thaler, as christening gift; after which, he turned to me, and said I should also receive a thaler if I would allow him to register my name among those of the chosen ones of hell.

Not for a dozen thalers would I have consented; but, for one kiss from my fascinating Lilith, I would have done anything asked of me.

I extended my arm for the stigma; but my blood-comrade stepped up to me and said:

"Comrade, do you see this thaler which I got in exchange for my soul? I want you to give me your bride for it."

As I have told you, a blood-comrade dare not refuse the request made by his fellow. I pocketed the thaler, placed Lilith's beautiful hand in Behoric's palm, and saw them move away to join the dancers.

Behoric and Belphegor now seized my collar, and importuned me to have my name recorded in the black book; but, with the loss of my bride, all desire to join the demon ranks vanished.

In vain I made all sorts of excuses; they would not release me. At last, I cried with simulated anger: "To the devil with you! Not a single member of my family ever was known to sign a contract when sober! I will eat and drink, then I'll talk business with you!"

Hardly had the last word crossed my lips, when before me stood a table loaded with delicious viands, and rare wines. The wedding guests seated themselves around the table, and proceeded to enjoy the repast, but to my extreme disappointment both wines and food were without taste. There was no substance to the former, no savor to the latter.

I began to quarrel with the demons:

"I can't eat this food," I exclaimed irritably. "I can't eat meat without salt."

"Salt?" repeated one of them. "Where should we get salt? There is no ocean in hell."

"But,"--I persisted--"I must have some salt--and if you have to fetch me Lot's wife--"

"Don't scold so, little man," jestingly interrupted Lilith, pulling my mustache. "Here--taste what is on my lips."

"I don't want honey--I want salt," I yelled, pushing her away. "_Donner und Blitz!_ Give me salt, or I'll skin Lucifer!"

Now, a curse has the same effect on a demon that a prayer has on an angel.

The younger devils rushed with all speed possible to Lucifer's palace to fetch the only salt-cellar in the infernal regions; it is for the sole use of the king of evil. This salt-cellar is a large mussel-shell and looks like a christening bowl; it is filled with salt collected from the tears shed by penitent sinners who delayed their repentance until it was too late.

Two active little imps dragged the salt-cellar to my side.

"Here's salt at last--God be praised!" I exclaimed in a loud voice.

The next instant the table with its viands disappeared amid an unearthly din, and rumbling as of thunder. The demons sank cursing into the earth; the witches flew yelling into the air, and I fell backward to the ground unconscious.

When I came to my senses, I was lying in a peat bog one hundred and twenty miles from the Black Forest, in which I had celebrated my marriage the night before with the beautiful Lilith.

"Either you are a madman, or you dreamed all this nonsense," in a stern tone observed the prince, at the conclusion of Hugo's recital. "I don't believe a single word of it."

"Well," commented the chair with less emphasis; "one thing is clear: Among the many lies the rascal has entertained us with for weeks, this last tale is the only one to bear a semblance to the truth. Similar occurrences are related by Majolus, and Ghirlandinus; also by the world-renowned Boccaccio, whose statements no one would think of doubting. I say that, for once, the accused has adhered strictly to the truth."

"Very good," decisively responded the prince. "Then, as he did not sign the compact with Satan, he cannot be charged with _pactum diabolicum implicitum_. Consequently, this indictment may also be expunged from the record."