Volume I Part 19 (1/2)
”Both shall be done,” replied the provost, and made a sign to the city-marshal, who went out.
”Moreover I was put into a bad plight in my arrest at Salzbrunn by your runners, and their rabble,” continued Tausdorf, surveying his person indignantly; ”and it is not fitting that a knight should die publicly in so unworthy a state, as a mockery to your people; therefore send to the Frau von Netz, that she may forward to me my red velvet suit of ceremony for my last travel.”
”It shall be done according to your desire,” said the chief provost, confounded by the proud calmness of the condemned.
”The chaplain is ready for you below, Herr von Tausdorf, in my little room below the custom-house,” announced the city-marshal.
”Then I must first reconcile myself with my enemies according to the duty of a Christian. I pray you, therefore, gentlemen, to forgive me for having through my unlucky deed given you occasion for the sin of injustice. On my part I willingly and freely pardon you my death. G.o.d favour you with an early repentance! May my blood be the last which shall flow in this unhappy feud betwixt the n.o.bility and citizens.”
He departed with the city-marshal; the gens-d'armes followed.
The provosts looked at each other sadly troubled, and from the provost-chief escaped the exclamation, ”The business will not be over with the head that is to fall here. Heaven turn all to the best!”
The burgomaster had for a short time betaken himself to his house to give orders for the burial of his son. He had just dismissed the church-servants, and looked from the bow-window of his audience-chamber with silent anguish on the black-mantled undertakers who were carrying out Francis's coffin to the customhouse, where the body still lay, when doctor Heidenreich came in unsummoned. Erasmus received him with angry exclamations.
”So, you will not cease to torment me? I thought that the contested point had been sufficiently discussed between us last night; as to any change, that is past all question now, since the sentence has been p.r.o.nounced.”
”I know it,” said Heidenreich, troubled. ”You have condemned Tausdorf to the sword!”
”Not I,” interrupted Erasmus vehemently; ”but the provost's court at Schweidnitz. The council has, indeed, approved the sentence; but in regard to that personal interest which I take in the affair, I did not even deem it proper to subscribe my name.”
”I neither ask of you generosity nor favour. But I demand justice of you for your own sake; you are on the point of committing a crying act of injustice, and of thereby rending the honourable garland that a long active life has wound about your brows. Your sentence is not only against all equity, but against the laws.”
”Against the laws? Mr. Doctor, put a guard upon your tongue, that it may not bring your body into trouble.”
”I have heard the murderous story from Tausdorf's servant. Your son was killed by the accused in his just defence. Does not the penal code of Charles the Fifth expressly state, that if any one falls upon, a.s.saults, or strikes another with deadly weapons, and the person so attacked cannot escape without risk and jeopardy to his body, life, honour, or good report, he may then peril life and limb in his just defence without incurring any punishment--and if, moreover, he kills the aggressor, he is not to be, therefore, deemed guilty, nor is he bound to delay with his defence till he is struck, although otherwise against written laws and usages?”
”You have long been known to me as a shrewd advocate,” answered Erasmus with mockery; ”but the _Carolina_[3] has not yet been formally published to us, and above all things the act of self-defence should have been proved. The mouth of my poor son is shut, the declaration of the accused and of his servant proves nothing.”
”There was also a page of Tausdorf's present; and a woman saw the battle from the garden-wall. In the testimony of three witnesses consists truth.”
”The witnesses of whom you speak,” replied the burgomaster, confused, ”did not present themselves for examination. It was, besides, for the judges to decide whether their examination was requisite.”
”But I think, Mr. Burgomaster, it was for your own honour to seek out these witnesses, and to defer the execution of the sentence till then, that it might not be said you wished to destroy the accused from a wretched spirit of revenge.”
”I am weary of your insolence; instantly take yourself out of my four walls, Mr. Doctor, or I shall give you lodgings in the Hildebrand as a malcontent and fomenter of discord; they are just now vacant.”
”You thrust your better angel from your side,” replied Heidenreich sadly. ”I have not spoken out of favour to the accused, whom I do not know, but from old friends.h.i.+p to yourself. You will not listen to me, and I wash my hands in innocence. But I tell you a day will come when you will think of my words and of this hour with repentance, alas, too late!”
He left the room. Erasmus went to the window to cool the angry glow upon his face in the fresh air, when he saw the gouty Schindel, who was being carried in a chair by servants towards the burgomaster's house.
”Nothing was wanting but the old gossip with his tedious conciliatory efforts,” exclaimed Erasmus, and running out he gave the servant strict orders to show the door to Schindel.
The servant went, and when the burgomaster returned to his room, the preacher Samuel, of St. Mary's church, a gloomy zealot, forced himself upon him to condole with the powerful regent on the death of his son.
With infinite unction he groaned out, ”If, worthy sir, it is sad, mournful, pitiable, and most grievous to lose a dear, beloved child by a natural death, how much more sad, mournful, pitiable, and grievous must it be for a father when a healthful son is s.n.a.t.c.hed from him through G.o.d's severe, though wise and gracious dispensation, by so sudden, violent, and horrid a death, without first having time to confess and repent his errors, so that in the full flower of his sins he is hurried away before the eternal judgment-seat!”
”For G.o.d's sake, comfort better, Mr. Preacher,” cried Erasmus angrily: ”You pour aqua-fortis instead of balsam into the wounds of a father's heart.”
”The heart of man is an obstinate thing,” replied the preacher; ”it must be utterly torn and crushed that it may become truly sensible of the consolation of the Gospel; and if you will only allow me a short time, I will undertake so to work upon you, that you shall with pleasure kiss the hand which has struck you thus hardly, and, like a true Christian, shall attune a rejoicing Hosannah on the grave of your murdered son.”
During this harangue the brow of Erasmus grew mightily wrinkled, and he was about to answer the wretched comforter in no very friendly way, when the door opened, and Althea entered, leading her boy.