Chapter VI: Part 6

"Now, out with it, Drost Aage; I am not jealous," said Sir Helmer, with a pleased and proud look. "You mean doubtless my fair young wife--It is worthy a true knight to admire the beauty of a young and fair woman in all reverence and honour. She hath well nigh the fairest presence of any woman here in the country; every one says so who sees her, both here and in Fyen; and I have nought against it. I know assuredly she holds me dearest of all, although I came to mishap, as you know, both with her uncle and those stiff-necked brothers. She is now at my castle, longing to have me back again; if it please the Lord and St. George, she shall soon hear a good report of me, if there is anything to be done in earnest."

Drost Aage's usually pale cheek had become crimson. "You guessed wrong, however, this once Sir Helmer"--he said, with a smile; "the lady I thought of was another, without disparagement to your fair young wife. But, if we would reach Kjoege ere midnight, we must ride faster. In a steady trot, and at the long run, I think my Danish horse will be a match for your Arabian." He spurred his horse, and Sir Helmer hastened to redeem the honour of his favourite Arabian, while he shook his head at the Drost's want of discernment in the matter of female beauty.

CHAP. XIII.

When they reached Kjoege it was three hours past vespers, and after burgher bedtime. In this town, as yet, neither the great Franciscan nor Carmelite monasteries were erected, which afterwards became so celebrated. Here the travellers were forced to be content with one of the unpretending hostelries from the time of Eric Glipping, which were often stigmatised as dungeons and farthing taverns.

During the last two years the town had been frequently visited by the Hanseatic merchants, since the king had extended their trading privileges; and when these active traders went to or from the great fairs at Skanor or Falsterbo, or to the herring fishery, on the Swedish coast, they often ran their vessels into Kjoege bay, to wait for a favourable wind, and dispose of their wares to the burghers of Kjoege. The bay was now full of Hanseatic merchant vessels, and the numerous lights in the ships shone fair upon the shore. Drost Aage, with his train, had much difficulty in getting a room in what was called the ale-house, near the harbour. In the large public room of the tavern, where the guests were wont to beguile the time until late at night, with drinking and dice, there was on the entrance of the Drost and his knights, much hubbub and loud-tongued talk among the guests, which, however, was suddenly hushed on the appearance of the richly-attired strangers, in whom the king's knights and halberdiers were instantly recognised. At the upper end of the long oaken table, which was fixed to the floor, sat a heavy-built, consequential-looking personage, with a sable-bordered cap and tunic; it was Berner Kopmand, from Rostock (so notorious for his wealth and pride) who had bid defiance to the king at Sjoeberg. He lolled in his seat with an air of importance, and had laid one leg upon the table, that he might be more completely at his ease. His broad visage glowed from the effects of wine; he held a silver goblet in his hand, and had a large wine-flask before him. By his side sat his trusty friend and trading companion, Henrik Gullandsfar, from Wisbye, with a large purse in his hand, from which he threw some coins into the host's cap. Between them stood a backgammon board, on which the dice were swimming in ale and wine, and which Berner Kopmand kicked aside to make room for his ponderous foot. Here they sat, surrounded by a number of Hanseatic merchants, skippers and boatmen. All were armed, like themselves, with broad battle swords and sabres, and drank merrily to their own success. When the Drost and his knights entered, the two merchants remained sitting in their easy posture, without returning the greeting of the strangers, and whispers and murmurs of dissatisfaction were heard among the guests.

In the least lit-up part of the room sat two men with the cross of the order of the Holy Ghost on their black travelling mantles. The one drew his hood over his brow; he instantly arose, and with his ecclesiastical colleague presently disappeared in the throng of guests, who were flocking in and out. Sir Helmer had noticed the deportment of the monk; he hastily approached Aage to whisper a word in his ear, but the Drost, who had instantly recognised the two arrogant Hanseatic merchants, had turned his whole attention upon their bearing, and was pondering within himself, how far it would be wise or necessary to meddle with them, or attach any significance to their former powerless menace.

"Short and sweet, my good friends!" now began the heavy Rostocker, with lisping tongue, while he struck the heel of his boot on the table to obtain a hearing, and seemed wrath at the pause in the talk. "The Lauenberg knight was forced to dangle from our new gallows, despite the cry of his high birth and lineage; and the high-born Duke Albert of Saxony was ready to choke with rage. It is therefore, he now protects and eggs on these high-born highwaymen. But we will no longer suffer ourselves to be plundered and pulled by the nose, unavenged, by knights and princes. We shall one day teach all these high and mighty lords, where the gold lies buried, the blessed bright gold which rules the world, and what the rich and combined Hanse-towns can do. We merchants and small folk, have now also learned something of the art of war, and the art of politics, and he who treads on our corns may beware of Lubek law, and the Rostock gallows--Hurra! freedom in trade! freedom in word and deed! To hell with all tyrants and aristocrats!" So saying, Berner Kopmand kicked the empty wine flask off the table, while he moved his foot to the floor, and rose reeling with the goblet at his lips.

The foreign merchants and skippers, shouted and drank. Henrik Gullandsfar shook his head, and pulled his drunken colleague by the sleeve, with a side glance at the Drost and the king's halberdiers.

"I give them to death and the devil! I can buy them up body and soul, and their forefathers into the bargain," growled the proud burgher magnate of Rostock--allowing himself, however, to be led out of the apartment, by the sober and more wary Gullandsfar. The other merchants and skippers now departed one after another, singing and whistling as they went. Aage had instantly perceived that the conduct of the proud Hanseatics was meant as defiance and insult; but he had himself, as Drost, two years before, jointly with the state-council, confirmed the great privileges which were granted to these traders, and the law strictly forbade all violent and arbitrary proceedings towards them so long as they themselves refrained from committing any act of violence. Aage remained silent, with a contemptuous smile, and warned to the incensed knights to keep quiet. But Sir Helmer's blood boiled,--he had sat upon thorns since his eye had caught the monk. As the Hanseatic sea-men left the inn, he thought he once more caught a glance, through the open door, of the same figure, among the tumultuous throng which was hastening to the vessels. He whispered a few hurried words in the Drost's ear, and rushed out of the apartment. Aage looked gravely and thoughtfully after him. He gave a secret signal to two of the most discreet knights to follow him, and requested the others to remain. They now seated themselves at the almost deserted table. The humble and officious host hastened to serve them, and to remove the empty flasks and cans of ale. Their wrath which they had repressed with difficulty, had rendered the knights silent, and their humour was manifested only in taunting exclamations and jeers at the grocer-heroes, as they were designated. It was indeed allowed that the proud Berner Kopmand's inveteracy against the nobles of the land was not altogether unfounded. The knights' castles in Denmark, were not in fact robber-holds, as in Germany; foreign traders here enjoyed the greatest security, and had even greater privileges than the burghers of the country; but the knights delighted in scoffing at the uncouth and awkward bearing of the armed grocers; even Drost Aage with all his moderation, and in spite of all that he had himself effected for the security of trade and the extension of commerce, could not altogether suppress the feeling of aristocratic contempt, entertained by those in his own rank for this class of persons, whose growing prosperity and wealth were often united with a degree of insolence and envious pride, which excited and fostered this mutual bad-feeling.

The attention of Aage and the knights was soon directed towards two singular strangers who still remained with them at table; the one was a young man of a good figure and remarkably animated countenance; he wore a dark red, and rather thread-bare lay mantle, but the black cap which covered his tonsure, and a canon's hat which lay by his side on the table, appeared to denote him an ecclesiastic. At one time he talked Latin, at another Icelandic and Danish, with his next neighbour, whom he addressed as master, and to whom he shewed marked respect. When the young clerk spoke Danish, he frequently pronounced the words wrong. At times he became enthusiastic, and recited as well from the ancient classics as from old northern poems. His neighbour was a little, deformed man, with a hump upon his back, a thin sharp visage, and an intelligent piercing eye; his head was sunk deep between his shoulders, and hardly reached above the table, but his arms were uncommonly long and thin; he occasionally put on and took off a pair of large spectacles set in lead, and had a number of singular instruments and boxes before him on the table. He wore a bright-red mantle, bordered with fur, over a lay-brother's blue dress, and his head was adorned with a scarlet cap, trimmed with gold lace and tassels. In this showy garb, which rendered the deformity of his person still more striking, he resembled one of those foreign mountebanks and quacks, who at the great fairs were wont to exhibit feats before the mob, and vend relics, amulets, and universal remedies against all ailments; this personage however, had an air of much greater distinction and pretension. It was the same little red-cloaked man, who, with Sir Niels Brock and Sir Johan Papae, had paid the nightly visit to Junker Christopher, at Holbek castle. In his dying hour Sir Palle had described him to the Drost, when in his alarm, he had made him the depositary of his secrets. Aage however had never before beheld this figure and did not remember Sir Palle's confused description.

The little man sat with a flask of wine before him, which he appeared to be examining with close attention. "Bad!--adulterated!" he now said in Danish to the Icelander, also in a foreign and Icelandic accent, while he puckered up his sharp nose. "See you this sediment. Master Laurentius? In the light of art and science, truth will one day become manifest in small things as well as in great--Eureka!" he continued, with a self-satisfied smile, "What would my great master Roger have said, if such a flask of wine had been set before him? Even without these skilful, searching eyes--for which I am in some measure indebted to his great optical discovery--although I may justly claim the honour of the practical application--even without my wondrous spectacles, he would perhaps have discovered that which I need all this apparatus to detect. The nature of poisons is altogether unknown and occult, Master Laurentius!" he added, mysteriously, but so loud as to be heard by all. "Not only for the preservation of life and health, but much more for the sake of science and art, an intimate knowledge of the essence of things is of the highest importance to us. Here in the north, however, people care but little for such matters; they gulp down everything, like the dumb beasts, without possessing the wise instincts of animals, and without seeking by wisdom and art to find a remedy for the narrow limits of our physical nature. All learning here is expended in theological subtleties, and what are called godly things--which, however, they know nought of--poor fools! Our common-place scholars still chew the cud of mysticism, the useless learning of the schools, and the dry, worn-out Aristoteles. Ignorance of all that is true and useful, renders forgers and cheats quite safe here, and these overbearing merchants can enrich themselves at the expence of this ignorant people, as much as they choose. There you see one of their new coins! I have detected its composition! It contains more tin and lead than silver; the Danish king's image and superscription are here, it is true--the size is precisely that of the royal coinage; but four of those go to a silver mark, and this is of six times less value. What an enormous profit might not a single ship-load of such coins bring those fellows!"

Drost Aage had become attentive, and found in the stranger's last assertion an important confirmation of a charge generally made against the Rostock merchants. The attention of the Drost and the knights did not appear to displease the intelligent little man--he seemed, indeed, not to heed them--but he now continued to converse in Danish with the young clerk, and though he appeared to speak in a whisper, he nevertheless enunciated every word in a singularly distinct, and perfectly audible tone. "Nothing is small in science and in nature," he continued, "the least may here lead to the greatest; in every blade of grass their lies a world. How long will men shut their eyes on the great and only true revelation of the Deity, through the miracles and holy writ of nature! Mark my young friend! the time will come when the colossus of ignorance, barbarism, and madness, which hath been erected on nature's grave, and worshipped for centuries--must fall. As is the course of temporal things, so is that of the spiritual world--Stagnation is death and rottenness. We have stood stationary with antiquity and tradition. The powerful ferment of life hath subsided--life hath lost its savour. What is it but senseless oriental adventures, and the childish dreams of our race, which have turned men's brains, and kept us at a distance from nature and the source of true wisdom for nearly thirteen centuries? The heathens were far above us. What are we in science and art compared with the Greeks and Egyptians?--and yet even they were erring. They also had their idols, their fancies and dreams of a Tartarus and Elysium, and withal, that madness now worshipped under the name of poetry."

"Stop, my learned master!" interrupted the young Icelander with eagerness. "Now you attack _my_ sanctuary--let the world change its fashion as it may--let Time devour his own children, as in ancient fable! But what hath been beautiful in every age, none can destroy--it must re-appear, though under new forms. True, eternal poetry shall rescue and embalm all wherein was life or beauty, as well in our times as in those gone by. Its image and memorial no cold enlightening wisdom shall ever efface.

"Cattle die,
Wise men die,
Time itself dies too--
One thing I know
That never dies--
Judgment on the dead."

"Be it so!" answered the little sage with a scornful smile, "Judgment shall not die; the art of judging is the only one that is immortal; the poetry of all ages shall vanish as soon as the world understands itself and its own thoughts. When the kernel is found we may cast away the shell, or give it to children to play with. It was a true saying, though, of that old heathen bard--the judgment on the dead _is_ eternal--but when this generation hath passed away a succeeding one will jeer at the achievements of their fathers, and what is now worshipped shall be the scorn of posterity. But one likes not to hear such things, Master Laurentius! The kernel of truth is unpalatable; it suits not the taste of the vulgar and uninitiated; and he who proffers it runs the risk of being stoned by the enemies of truth and the slaves of prejudice. What my great Master Roger was forced to confess is known to all the world; if he found not himself the philosopher's stone, he hath, however, shewn us where to seek for it, and what was hidden from his sharp gaze is not necessarily hid from that of his disciples." So saying, the little man rose with a look of proud importance; he departed with a slight salutation to Drost Aage and the knights, in whose looks he was well satisfied to perceive the astonishment which his last mysterious remark, about the philosopher's stone especially, seemed to have excited.

The young clerk remained behind, and now addressed himself to Drost Aage, whose rank and name were known to him. He introduced himself to the Drost as an Iceland theologian, jurist, and poet, who in his ardent zeal for knowledge and enlightenment, had quitted his easy office of priest of St. Olaf's church and p[oe]nitentarius of the Archbishop of Nidaros,[10] to visit foreign universities with his learned countryman and fellow-traveller Magister Thrand Fistlier, a disciple, as he asserted, of the renowned Roger Bacon, whose wonderful knowledge, and free and bold opinions, had drawn on him so shameful a persecution from his ecclesiastical brethren, and who, after many years' imprisonment, had died two years since in England.

The young Iceland clerk now purposed, under the protection of his learned friend, to visit the Danish court, where he hoped to find that the king would lend a favourable ear to his own and the ancient Icelandic poems; while his travelling companion intended to display his wondrous arts before the king, and to make known some very important discoveries in natural philosophy, which might prove of incalculable use and effect both in war and peace. The report of the young King Eric's especial regard for science, and the intrepidity with which he dared to oppose the usurpations of the court of Rome and the hierarchy, had induced the learned Master Thrand to seek freedom and protection in Denmark.

"You will doubtless both be welcome to the king," answered Aage, looking narrowly at him, "he favours and protects all fair and useful sciences. Your travelling companion belongs not to the herd of common mountebanks, as far as I can judge: if he can prove what he affirmed, of the false coin brought hither into this country, his learning may be most important to us. But since you are a theologian and scholar, Master Laurentius, I would but ask you one question," continued Aage, "Doth not your companion entertain some confused opinions on sacred subjects? His expressions struck me as being somewhat singular, although I, as a layman, understand not such matters. I well know, however, those who are called Leccar Brethren,--who will only believe in the Creator, but neither in God's Son, nor in the Holy Spirit, nor in an universal christian church,--are as little tolerated in this country as by any right-thinking monarch in Christendom; you must in nowise believe our king's unfortunate position in regard to the Archbishop of Lund and the papal court hath made any alteration in his opinions in what concerns the matter of his own and his people's salvation."

"From the errors of the Leccari I believe myself free." answered the young Icelander, with some embarrassment; "about my learned companion's theology, I must confess I have not greatly troubled myself; seeing that he is a worldly philosopher and not a theologian. Of the noble art of bardship he hath not either any conception; I admire him solely for his rare knowledge of the secrets of nature."

"If he errs in the one thing needful, and if the highest and most sacred truths, as well as all that is beautiful and noble, are in his estimation nothing but folly," observed Aage, "I have but little confidence in his knowledge of less important matters; and I would not give much for all the rest of his learning."

"I thus judged once myself, of the sciences and arts that teach us but earthly things," answered the Icelander, "but while I was at the foreign universities a new light dawned upon me. I am indeed far from calling (like my learned travelling companion) the revelation of deity in nature the only true one, by which, as you have rightly observed, he hath in his inconsiderate zeal, betrayed a highly erroneous opinion; but even the wisdom of the heathen in worldly concerns is in nowise to be despised, and I have never seen anything that hath more strengthened my faith in the Almighty power and wisdom of the Triune God, than the marvellous effects of the powers of nature, with which this singular man hath made me acquainted."

"What hath he shown you, then, of such great importance? Master Laurentius!" asked Aage.

"I have seen effects of his art, which I should in common with the ignorant multitude, and my prejudiced colleagues, have taken to be witchcraft and the work of the devil," answered the Icelander eagerly, "had he not explained them to me by the powers of nature, and from the great misjudged Roger Bacon's 'Opus Majus,' of which he carries a rare and invaluable manuscript with him. Not to speak of his great knowledge of plants and animals, and the properties and composition of metals; what most hath captivated me is all that points to the soul's dominion over time and decay, over life and death, over the universe, and all passive powers in nature. He affirms that by his art alone, without supernatural aid, he is able to preserve youth, and prevent the infirmities of age; he knows the course of the heavens, and the influence of the stars on human life; he hath a number of artful glasses, by which he is almost able to see the invisible; but his greatest and most wondrous art is the preparation of an inextinguishable fire, with which he imitates the thunder and lightning of the heavens. He hath shewn me a specimen of it, which hath astonished me. With a single handful of that subtle combustible matter, he can produce such an amazing thunder-clap, that the strongest wall would be rent by it, and such a burst of consuming flame, that he who rightly understands its powers, would be able to destroy a whole army with it, and devastate castles and towns."

The knights stared in amazement at the Icelander, and some crossed themselves. "It is impossible! That no man can do! it cannot be done by natural means!--it must be done by witchcraft and devilry!" said the one to the other.

Drost Aage was silent, and looked sharply and gravely at the Icelander. "I hold you neither for an unwise man, nor for one who would deal in falsehood and deceit, good Master Laurentius!" he at length began, "although what you tell us of your learned companion borders on the incredible--but are you not yourself deceived? You say you have but known this man of miracles a short time. In your admiration of his arts and his rare knowledge of the secrets of nature, you have concerned yourself but little about his principles and way of thinking, which, however, I consider to be the most important points in every man's character, whether he be scholar or layman. If he is not a juggler or braggart, I fear he is something worse. He would fain have us laymen believe he had found the philosopher's stone. Those who talk openly of such things are generally enthusiasts or impostors."

"That which is above our understanding, Sir Drost," answered the Icelander, "we are but too apt to misjudge as folly, or the invention of the evil-minded--but here our own self-conceit and vanity are to blame. That which the wisest men in the world have so long mused upon, cannot assuredly be an absurd imagination, and I doubt not the philosopher's stone will and must one day be found--if it be not found already. Perhaps we may meet at Skanor fair, Sir Drost!" he added, rising to depart, "My learned friend and travelling companion doth not visit princes and nobles only--the enlightenment of the ignorant vulgar is a more important object to him. I accompany him as amanuensis, partly from a present necessity, which I blush not to acknowledge, and in this lay mantle, that I may not give offence to my prejudiced colleagues; but I learn much in this way, and, as I said--I trust to return more rich in knowledge from these worldly bye-paths to the service of St. Olaf, and to my most venerable friend and protector at Nidaros, who probably may soon need support in the cause against his unruly canons."

The conversation was now broken off with the Iceland clerk, as Sir Helmer rushed almost breathless into the apartment. "It _was_ Kagge! Drost! there is no doubt of it," exclaimed Helmer, "but, by Satan!--he is already on board the Rostock vessel."

"Who? the dead Kagge? dream ye, Helmer? Was it he ye meant before?"

"He, and none other--the base regicide! as surely as I have eyes and ears. He hath both his beard and eye-brows shaved; but I know his fox's face and screeching voice; the dull Rostocker mentioned his name himself in his drunkenness, out of defiance and pride. They insulted me in the ancient coarse fashion I will not name, and pushed off from shore with the outlaw before mine eyes."

"We must arrest them at Skanor tomorrow," answered Aage, "if the criminal is on board the Rostock vessel, he hath now peace and respite of life under the Hanse flag and the Lubeck law; but whenever he sets foot on Danish ground he dies! Such pestilent ware no Hanseatic hath the privilege of unloading." They then retired to rest. The Iceland clerk had gone, and no more was seen of either him or the learned Thrand Fistlier. The account they had heard of this worker of wonders continued, however, till a late hour in the night, the theme of the knights' conversation at the drinking table.

CHAP. XIV.

Drost Aage retired to rest in silence, but he vainly tried to sleep. He was uncertain whether he ought not instantly to have captured the two overbearing Hanseatics on the ground of their former menace at Sjoeberg; here they were no longer ambassadors and privileged persons. If they had circulated false coin, and openly protected an outlaw upon Danish ground, they might with strict justice be called to account. The knowledge that the base Kagge still lived also disquieted him; but what still more banished sleep from the Drost's eyes, was the idea of the mysterious Master Thrand, and his wondrous arts. That a human being possessed such a power over nature as to be able to imitate the thunder and lightning of the heavens, with all their terrific effects, appeared to him an amazing prodigy, and what the enthusiastic Master Laurentius had said of the still deeper views of his master--of the preservation of youth by a mysterious art, and of the philosopher's stone, as something actually existent in nature, had especially inspired the meditative and somewhat visionary Aage with singular musings.

The countenance and mountebank deportment of the little deformed philosopher, had, indeed, awakened great doubts of his honesty, and what Aage had comprehended of his expressions appeared to him strange and confused, as opposed to what he had been piously taught in childhood regarding the highest and eternal truths in which, despite his unhappy excommunication, he had been confirmed by his confessor, Master Petrus de Dacia, who had succeeded in making him at peace with himself and the church. But the Iceland clerk's ardent enthusiasm for Master Thrand and his worldly wisdom had not been without its effect; and Aage was forced to confess there lay an acuteness and intelligence in the little mountebank's eye which he had never seen equalled in any of the pious and learned men he knew. Laurentius's open and ingenuous countenance bore witness also to the truth of his testimony as to what he had seen and admired in the disciple of the famous Roger Bacon; and the longer Aage pondered on what he had heard, the more doubts and strange thoughts crowded upon his mind. Master Thrand's contempt of the age in which he lived, and the confidence with which he expressed himself respecting the only true revelation of nature with which he was, above all, conversant, had also excited a feeling of strange and painful uneasiness in Aage's mind. The melancholy knight had often, when oppressed by the thought of his excommunication, sought peace and tranquillity in the contemplation of nature in lonely nights under a calm and starry sky, without, however, feeling able to dispense with the comfort and consolation of the church. He now stood, with his arms folded, in his sleeping chamber, gazing out on the gloomy heavens. "Were it possible!" said he to himself. "Am I wandering here with all my contemporaries in thick darkness? Know we neither our own nature nor that around us? Are all our purposes and energies but as the gropings of the blind, without aim or object? Will the time come when children will jeer at us as erring fools and insane dreamers, scared by what did not exist, and amused by empty juggling? Can this be? Can even that which is most high and sacred, which we have believed in and lived for with our fathers--for which thousands of inspired martyrs have died with a halo of glory around their beaming countenances--for which our pilgrims and Crusaders wend to Jerusalem, and renounce all the riches and treasures of this world--which was the spring of action in our ancestors' lives as our own, and made them heroes and conquerors in life and death--could all that be dreaming, deception, and ignorance? Could the existence and achievements of whole centuries have been a monstrous lie? No! No! If yonder fellow be not a liar and a cheat, there is neither truth, nor life, nor redemption, nor salvation." He shrunk with horror from his own thoughts. A sound now reached his ears which, at this moment, almost struck him with dismay. He fancied he once more heard the voice of the mysterious stranger close beside him.

"Darest thou not yet face the naked truth? my dear Laurentius!" sounded the shrill voice of the philosopher, slowly and solemnly through the thin wooden partition of the adjoining chamber. "Dost thou dread to enter into the holy calling of a Leccar Brother, and priest of nature? Dost thou tremble at an initiation into the great church of the world, of which we are all originally priests; we who have eyes for truth, and courage to announce it, despite the repeated outcry of the fools of thirteen centuries! Look, I open unto thee the great sanctuary in the name of truth and science, and in the sight of that deity who dwells in the breast of the initiated. Cast off the miserable prejudices of thy time! Throw down the phantom thou callest the Church, and a saving faith, with the same strength with which thou hast rejected the senseless fables of heathenism! Cast off all that was not given thee when thou becamest a human being! Rid thyself of all exploded and worn out doctrines--cast off the whole puerile tissue of phantasms and visions of crude ages, which thou callest Revelation! Divest thyself of thy preconceptions regarding the essence of things, and of all the pomp and imagery thou callest poetry! Then gaze freely around thee, and tell me what remains!"

"Nothing! nothing! learned master!" answered the voice of the young Icelander, in a desponding tone.

"Yes, assuredly!" was the answer; "thou thyself remainest, and great eternal nature, and, if thou wilt, a great and mighty deity, which is the soul and life of this nature of which thou art thyself a part--all truth, all wisdom lie slumbering and buried there. Wake it if thou canst! Call forth deity in thyself and in nature! Rule it by that mighty art! Ask boldly, and force it to respond!"

"That I am not able to do, my wise master!" said the voice of the young Icelander, within the partition; "but could I wake lifeless nature, and force her to solve the mysteries I gaze upon, would she answer aught else than what the dead have ever answered the living, what the dead Vola[11] answered Odin in our ancient poems, what the spirit of Samuel answered Saul in the presence of the Witch of Endor:--'Thou shalt die! to-morrow thou shalt die!'"

"Well," resumed the philosopher, "were the answer not much more cheering, if it were but truth could a philosopher, a Leccar Brother, a priest of nature and truth demand or wish it otherwise? You _will_ have flattery, you _will_ all of you be cheated and deceived--therefore you cling so fast to that flattering lie, but hate and persecute truth as ungodliness, heresy, or devilry--therefore are popes and bishops, like the prophets and evangelists of old, still able to lead the whole human race blindfold round in an eternal circle of error from one age to another until they have their eyes opened, and see that they stand where their blind fathers stood, by the closed book of nature, which amid their dreaming they have forgotten to open through the lapse of ages. Look! there thou standest, my pupil! and art ready to despair, because all that fair jugglery hath vanished and been blown away by my breath as it were a spider's web, or bubbles of air! and thou seest nought but one enormous lifeless body which I call nature.--But look! the lifeless body wakes! 'Tis deity, and yet our slave,--obedient to the mightier manifestation of deity within us. Only through our means can nature's deity awake to consciousness and self-knowledge. In us, and in our will alone lives the only true God we should obey. Courage, Laurentius!--courage! Truth must make its way--the slumbering and disguised god of nature must be wakened and unveiled. It must open to us its vast recesses, it must restore to us what it hath robbed and hidden--the philosopher's stone must be found, even though its workings should seem to us eternal death and petrifaction."

All was again hushed in the adjoining chamber; Aage had thrown open a window, and the cool night air streamed in upon him; the sky had become clear--Aage raised his eyes towards the starry vault, he grasped the cross-hilt of his sword, a heavy load oppressed his heart, he bent his knee in silent devotion, and rose, feeling that his prayer was answered by the return of a calm and cheerful frame of mind. "To God be thanks and praise! I know better however," he said, with a feeling of consolation. "He, within there, is a liar and deceiver, as surely as _He_ above is love itself! and He whom He sent unto us was the way, the truth, and the life!" Aage was now about to betake himself to rest, but the voice of the learned Master Thrand again caught his ear. The young Icelander he heard no more. German was now spoken, but in a low whispering tone, and the talk seemed to be on worldly matters. Aage tried not to overhear anything; it was repugnant to his feelings, and appeared to him dishonourable and unworthy, to become a concealed witness to the secrets of others. He thought of knocking to give notice of his presence and the thinness of the partition; but, at this moment, he heard the name of "Grand" mentioned, and he started. The whispering continued for a long time afterwards, and he caught words which caused him the greatest uneasiness. The talk was of the king and Junker Christopher, of the outlaws, of death, and downfall; but what it was he could neither hear nor comprehend, with any distinctness. At last all became silent. He conjectured that his foreign neighbour had left the inn, and towards morning Aage fell asleep. When he was awakened at dawn by his squire, in order to embark in a Swedish vessel, he had dreamt the most marvellous things. He fancied he had beheld an entirely changed world; without monasteries and monks, without fortified castles, without the images of the Madonna and the saints, without kings and thrones, even without women and children, and with nothing but men, with keen staring eyes and diminutive and deformed bodies, like Master Thrand's. At last it seemed to him that the sun was burnt out and hung, like a great black coal, over his head; that the moon and all the stars were pulled down and used instead of stones, for fences and inclosures round small withered cabbage gardens. All trees and flowers were torn up and peeled into fibres; all birds and animals lay slaughtered and cut open; and the little hump-backed men sat, with great spectacles, examining the putrified carcases. All that he beheld,--the whole subverted and disjointed world, seemed to him at last metamorphosed into one enormous mass of stone, and a terrific voice sounded over the petrified world, and cried "Behold! _This_ is thy world! _this_ is thy God! _this_ is the philosopher's stone!" Amid his dismay at hearing this voice, Aage awakened, just as his brisk squire knocked at his door, still so confused by his dream that he could not distinguish between what he had dreamed, and what he thought he had heard from behind the partition.

CHAP. XV.

At the fair of Skanor a great number of persons of all classes were assembled. It was thronged with skippers and merchants from every part of the world, but especially from Hamburgh, Lubeck, Rostock, Deventer, and Overyssel. These last were chiefly dealers in spices. They brought hither the most costly groceries to market from Venice and Genoa: wares were here to be seen even from India, Persia, and Egypt, which these enterprising traders had brought down the Rhine, and with which they journeyed to northern lands. Here lay many English vessels laden with wine; but what especially struck the eye were the splendid assortments of cloths, of all colours, which waved like flags from the vessels in the harbour, and lay in large bales in the streets under tents or wooden sheds.

The situation of Skanor was advantageous for trade. The town extended quite to the shore of the coast of Skania, between Falsterbo and Malmoe. It lay to the north of Falsterbo, and was both larger and much more ancient than that town. Over the gate of the place was a stone with an inscription, in the ancient Scanian language, which bore witness to the antiquity of the town, and which afterwards ran thus in more modern rhyme:

"Lund and Skanor throve apace,
When Christ appeared to bring us grace."

The great fairs of the town were particularly famed, and, during fair-time, many persons crossed over from Zealand. On the whole the intercourse between Scania and the Danish provinces was far more frequent than in aftertime, when this beautiful province, which bore the closest affinity to Zealand, was dismembered from the kingdom. Amid the crowd of visitors at the fair were seen knights, monks, and burghers of towns, both from Zealand and Scania, among peasants, knights' ladies, and gaily-attired dairy and kitchen maids from the nearest lordly castles, as well as ragged beggars and pretty country maidens, in the national costumes of Scania and Halland. The fair was thronged with musicians and jugglers of all kinds. Rosaries and little images of saints were exposed for sale by the side of every description of worldly wares and foreign luxuries.

Over the two best stocked and most frequented booths at the fair, waved Henrik Gullandsfar's and Berner Kopmand's well-known flag and sign--a griffin and a dragon, with a bundle of lances tied together, and with the Lubek charter in their claws, defending their treasures against a troop of robbers in knightly attire, and ridiculously caricatured. These great merchants who had their agents, or resident grocers' apprentices, in the town, did not attend the sale of their goods in person, but were present at the unloading of their ships, to watch that no toll was demanded, contrary to the privileges of trade. The sound of music and dancing was heard in the taverns, and all places of entertainment. German ale and wine were poured out in abundance for the rich guests at the fair, while the poorer were content with Scanian and Zealand ale. Towards evening many drunken persons were to be seen; here and there disputes and fights occurred, and the provost with the watchmen and armed constables of the town were often forced to interfere.

What attracted most attention at Skanor fair at this time was a booth hung with coloured lamps, close to the quay, where fireworks were exhibited, together with many new and curious sights, at which the spectators wondered and crossed themselves as though they beheld the delusions of the evil one. Here the learned Master Thrand had erected his optical theatre. He stood himself on a raised platform and harangued the mob on the excellence of his masterpieces, and their great superiority over all the relics, amulets, and false panacea with which people suffered themselves to be imposed upon by unlearned mountebanks and jugglers. He chiefly extolled his arts as being innocent, and grounded on the principles of nature; and invited the unprejudiced and sensible public to draw nearer, and attend to what he (rather, he said, for the sake of science and truth, than for worldly gain) was about to expound and exhibit. His admirer, the young Master Laurentius, who, in his red lay-mantle, was not suspected to be an ecclesiastic, zealously assisted him as an amanuensis, and collected from time to time in his hat, money from the spectators, but in a manner which showed that he was ashamed of this employment; to which, however, he had doubtless (though with another and more pious aim) been accustomed, when on the anniversaries of the dedication of St. Olaf's church at Nidaros, he had, as p[oe]nitentarius, collected alms for the treasury of the church.

Close by the booth of the distinguished and learned mountebank stood a light, under the image of the Madonna, in a little stone-walled chapel, where was also an iron-bound poor-box nailed fast upon a block. No merchant or skipper went to or from his ship without first kneeling here and depositing a piece of money in the box for the poor, and for the treasury of the Holy Virgin. In the evening there stood by this chapel, which went by the name of the Quay Chapel, Sir Helmer Blaa, who, with the Drost's squire Canute of Fyen, and some young knights of Aage's train, kept a sharp look out on every one who came up from the quay. The wind had been contrary all day, and the merchants were just come on shore. Berner Kopmand's Rostock vessel lay at anchor before them in the harbour. It had reached Skanor with a fair wind ere day-break. The indefatigable owner of the vessel had been on board the whole day superintending the unlading of the cargo, and ere it was dark, Sir Helmer thought he saw the outlawed fugitive on deck by his side. In case of the criminal's venturing to land preparations had been made for his seizure, with the knowledge of the provost; but the fugitive seemed not to purpose quitting his place of refuge. After vespers, however, Berner Kopmand and Henrik Gullandsfar landed with great parade, and a considerable train of armed seamen. They omitted not to cross themselves at the chapel, and to throw a loud-chinking offering into the poor-box, as they passed by the knights with an air of proud defiance.

"How many false silver coins think ye are now in that box?" said Sir Helmer, aloud. The heavy Rostocker turned towards him with a look of rage; but Gullandsfar nudged his elbow with a grave look, and they passed on. Helmer and the other young knights followed them, and seemed to have a great desire to chastise their arrogance.

Drost Aage had not neglected to attend Thrand Fistlier's performances, and the optic theatre with which he entertained the astonished visitors at the fair. He had bought of the artist some of his most remarkable and valuable inventions, and gained information of their application and use. He could not refuse his admiration to what he here saw of the famous discoveries of Roger Bacon, and observed the whole exhibition with attention. It consisted chiefly of small optical cases in which the powers of the magnifying glass were applied in a manner hitherto unknown in the North, and by which the artist excited great astonishment. What was seen in these boxes was not only the transformation of small animals into monsters, but even a figurative metamorphosis of the world in Master Thrand's own taste:--saints and martyrs, miraculous sights, and legendary pictures, processions of monks with the Host, the banners of the Madonna, and crucifixes, were represented in a ridiculous manner by the side of all the Grecian and Roman gods with their profanest love adventures. All this passed in dim caricature before the eyes of the spectators, and gave place at last to a number of dazzling allegorical figures, intended to represent Wisdom, Philosophy, Freedom, Burgher Commerce, Political Economy, The Study of Nature, and other subjects of the same kind. As soon as it grew sufficiently dark for the purpose, Master Thrand exhibited small burning wheels, stars, and suns with many-coloured rays, which flew with a clear light into the air, and suddenly exploded with a slight report.

The Drost considered this last exhibition both beautiful and remarkable; all these things, however, were but trifles compared with what Master Laurentius had related of the matchless and wondrous feats which this mountebank was capable of performing. The sight of the small stars and suns which flew up over the sea and burst in the calm evening sky, afforded endless amusement to the spectators, to whom it seemed an entirely novel and incomprehensible phenomenon; but the people's admiration of this dazzling diversion as well as the beautiful fantastic spectacle itself in its aerial theatre, threw Aage into a singularly pensive mood.

This glimpse of a new and secret art, whose vast and hidden workings he had already heard mentioned, struck him as being the forerunner of that new era announced by the mysterious artist, in which all opinions and ideas should be reformed and enlarged, and all that was ancient should vanish like the mimic suns and stars now waning and disappearing over the sea. Aage could not forget the strange conversations he had heard between the artist and his pupil, of the delusive dream in which the whole Christian world was wandering. In the learned Master Thrand's peculiar conception of the doctrine of the notorious Leccar Brethren he saw but a haughty and contumacious insanity, which, should it ever become dominant, would subvert all that was beautiful and true, and sacred upon earth; his own dream of the petrified world was still fearfully present to his recollection. The noise and joyousness of the crowd became almost painful to him. At last he sought relief and freedom from these distressing thoughts in the little chapel of the quay. He bent his knee before the painted wooden image of the Madonna, who was here represented as usual with the child in her arms, and the globe of the world with a cross upon it, like a ball and sceptre in the child's hand. Aage had folded his hands in prayer, but as he turned his eyes on the image, it was suddenly illuminated by a ball of fire sent up from the artist's booth. The Madonna's image appeared to him in the vivid flash of light like a horribly grinning idol--at the same moment he heard a loud report in the air, resembling a clap of thunder, followed by shrieks of terror from women and children. The little chapel shook; the ancient worm-eaten image of the Virgin tottered, and fell down at his feet. He started up, and rushed out of the chapel. The joyousness of the people was changed to fear and wrath. Some women had fainted; the life of one had been seriously endangered; a Capuchin's beard had been singed by the explosion. "Witchcraft! Sorcery!" was re-echoed in the crowd. "Stone him!--Burn him! the accursed wizard! He is a heretic!" cried some. "He hath said he will draw off all worshippers from our Lady and the saints--he saith he will match his thunders against the Lord's himself.--Stone him! Burn him! Cast him upon the beach! Tear down the wizard's house!"

Amid all this commotion the enraged mob rushed upon the pyrotechnist's booth. The hapless little artist had hid himself with his amanuensis among some large boxes in an adjacent booth. Two of the enraged mob and a lay brother drew them forth from under the planks of the broken-down booth to give them up to the maltreatment of the mob. The provost and constables vainly strove to hinder these acts of violence. At last Drost Aage stepped forth, and cried in an authoritative voice, "Stop there, countrymen! Peace here, in the king's name! Secure these jugglers, but injure not a hair of their heads. They shall be judged and punished according to the law of the land if they cannot give account of themselves. What they have shewn us was done by natural means, my friends! These people know more than we do of the powers of nature; but they abuse their wisdom by boasting and juggling, and by scoffing at sacred things."

As soon as they heard the name of the king, and recognised his and the nation's favourite, the enraged mob was pacified. Thrand Fistlier and his amanuensis were instantly seized by the constables and conducted to the quay, with all their effects; followed by a great throng of people. Drost Aage followed them himself on board a royal vessel, which was to sail next day to Helsingborg, and the captain, with his armed seamen, received orders to protect the captives from all injury.

As soon as the captive mountebank heard he was in safety, but was to be taken as a prisoner to a fortress, he looked around him with a proud smile, "My noble persecuted master was right," he said. "The age is not sufficiently matured for us and our compeers. It is dangerous to be wise among fools; even the least glimpse of the light which is to appear is, as yet, too strong for these weak-sighted barbarians. It is not the first time a great genius hath appeared a century too soon!"

"Silence, wretched juggler!" said Aage. "The great man whom thou dishonourest, by calling thy master, was a wise and pious monk, I have been told, but no juggler and self-appointed priest. Thank the holy Virgin and her Son, whom thou deniest, for thy life to-day! It is not for thy wisdom, but for thy folly, and the confusion thou wouldest spread among the people, that I have caused thee to be bound."

Ere Aage quitted the vessel he took Master Laurentius aside, and gazed on him with a look of thoughtful interest. "You are too good to be this juggler's attendant and apprentice," he said; "your blind admiration for his knowledge of the perishing things of time, hath caused you to deny and dishonour your own holy calling, and the high vocation to which you are dedicated. St. Olaf, and the souls entrusted to you, you have deserted for this deformed artificer of hell-fire. From want and need you shall no longer be necessitated thus to degrade yourself. The captain of the vessel hath orders to care for your requirements; at Helsingborg he will provide you with suitable priest's attire, and money for your journey. To save your life, Master Laurentius, I have been forced to use you more hardly than I wished. When you arrive at Helsingborg, you are free and your own master; but your suspicious companion must, as a state prisoner, tarry the king's coming, and justify himself before him, if he can do so. It is known to me that he is a Leccar brother; as such it is forbidden to him to rove the country at large and mislead the people. I know, also, he wishes you to join his sect; but, I conjure you by that Almighty Lord and Master you have been near betraying--draw back, good Master Laurentius, and preserve your immortal soul! It hath assuredly a higher and a worthier calling, if your countenance and warm enthusiasm for what is beautiful and true have not deceived me. The Lord be with you! farewell!" Aage quitted the ship without awaiting an answer from the deeply agitated youth, whose eyes were suffused with tears, and who vainly strove to reach him his fettered hand.