Sweetmeats and wines were then brought in, and while partaking of them the two abbesses talked together, of cloister affairs, and of the wicked world; and the Devil, with a deep sigh, turned the discourse to Clara's accident. Clara, who, on account of her rank, was the pet-lamb of the cloister, stood near the abbess, and laughed beneath her veil. Faustus observed this, and, looking at her, really thought he had never seen a more charming rogue wear the sacred veil. The Devil at length gave the conversation a serious turn, and led the abbess to conclude that he had something weighty to confide to her.

_Abbess_ (_to Clara_). You may go, my lamb, to the nuns in the garden, and divert yourself with them; I will send you out some sweetmeats, so that you may celebrate the coming of our venerable sister.

Clara bounded away. After a few words, which the Devil uttered in a disturbed and thoughtful kind of tone, so that he might thereby arouse the curiosity of the abbess, he came to the point.

_Devil_. Ah, dear sister, how much do I pity you! It is true, and that ought in some degree to comfort you, that the whole city and the entire district are convinced of your holiness, your piety, and the strictness of your discipline. In a word, you possess all the virtues requisite for a bride of heaven. But, alas, the world will be the world still; and the Fiend often infuses evil thoughts into the minds of worldly men, so that through them he may disturb those saints who are thorns in his side. No, no; the wicked Devil cannot bear that you should bring up your lambs in untainted purity. I pity you, as I said before, and still more the little innocents who are at present confided to your care. What will become of them when they lose you?

_Abbess_. Kind sister, be of good cheer; though I am old, I am yet, thanks to Heaven, sound and hearty, and the little inconveniences which attend a uniform course of devotion and penitence prolong life rather than shorten it. So, at least, the physician of the convent tells me when I complain to him.

The Devil looked at her attentively.

"Have you, then, had no antic.i.p.ation of what is hanging over your head?

no warning vision? Has nothing occurred in the convent to make you look forward to the future with anxiety? It is customary for pious souls to be informed by certain signs when any disaster menaces them."

_Abbess_. You frighten me so, that I tremble in my whole body. But let me reflect;--yes, yes, I am very restless, and dream of raw heads and b.l.o.o.d.y bones; and some days ago--ah, yes!--that certainly was a sign and a warning--some few days ago I went with my lap-dog, which you see there, to walk in the garden. I was alone; the nuns were at some distance, telling stories beneath the linden-trees. All at once the gardener's great mastiff sprung upon _Piety_, for that is the name of my pet. I shuddered from head to foot, and crossed myself again and again; but that would avail nothing. At last I struck at the hideous brute with my staff,--yes, I struck with all my strength the filthy hound who would thus profane the cloister; and I continued striking until the staff, which his reverence the Archbishop delivered to me upon my consecration as abbess, broke in two. Was that a sign or a warning, think ye?

The Devil and Faustus pretended to be shocked.

_Devil_. Ah, the very worst in the world. All now is but too clear and manifest. Did not I tell you how it would turn out, Sister Agatha?

Faustus made a humble bow of a.s.sent.

_Abbess_. For Heaven's sake, speak, or I shall run mad.

_Devil_. Contain yourself, dear sister. Help is to be found, and who knows but I bring it with me? Remember that it was the staff which the Archbishop presented to you upon your being consecrated an abbess which you broke; and now listen to me attentively. You know my cousin the prebend; well, he confided to me a very terrible affair. He indeed made me solemnly promise not to tell you; but I know it is best to commit a little sin, if by its means we can prevent a great one and confound the projects of Satan.

_Abbess_. You are perfectly right; and the Fathers of the Church hold that doctrine, as my confessor has often told me.

_Devil_. Know, then, that the Archbishop has so far got the upper hand of the Chapter, that he has brought them to consent to your being deposed after the lapse of a few months, and his niece Clara being made abbess in your stead.

"Jesu Maria!" cried the abbess, wrung her hands, and fell into a swoon.

The Devil made a sour face at her exclamation, and Faustus, laughing, rubbed her wrinkled brows. After she had recovered herself, she shed a torrent of tears, and shrieked a thousand curses against the wickedness of the world.

_Devil_. Do not despair, dear sister. For a distant evil there is always a remedy.

_Abbess_. And what do you advise me to do? Wretch that I am! O Heavens! what will become of me,--what will become of the nuns?

_Devil_. I have already said that it is best to commit a slight sin if, by so doing, we prevent a great one, and you yourself have proved it by the authority of holy Fathers; but, dear sister, courage and understanding will be necessary, if you wish to obtain your purpose without danger to your own soul, by loading another person with the capital sin.

_Abbess_. Ah, dear sister, and how is that to be contrived?

_Devil_. I was once in our convent in almost a similar perplexity. The good Sister Agatha here is my witness; and as she saw every thing, and a.s.sisted me, we may speak out before her.

Faustus bowed with humility.

_Devil_. A nun who, by sinful wit, and yet more sinful beauty, had found favour among the great and powerful, was, by their a.s.sistance, on the point of rising above me. Ah! I have felt how grievous are the thoughts of being forced to obey, after one has for a long time exercised boundless power. Well, in the presence of Sister Agatha, I entered into a consultation with my relation the prebend: he is very knowing in affairs of conscience and crime, and understands to a hair's-breadth what is d.a.m.nable and what is not. This wise man gave me a piece of advice which helped me out of my trouble, and for which I shall always have reason to bless him. I admit that the expedient at first appeared to me sinful; but he a.s.sured me, and proved to me out of the casuists, that a little fasting and penance would do away with all that was culpable in it.

_Abbess_. But the advice--the advice!

_Devil_. I am ashamed to tell it you aloud.

_Abbess_. Then whisper it into my ear. What the Abbess of the Black Nuns could do without endangering her salvation, the Abbess of the White Nuns may do also.

_Devil_ (_softly into her ear_). He advised me to contrive so that this dangerous nun should commit the sin of * * *

_Abbess_ (_crossing herself_). Blessed Ursula! Why, that is the work of the Devil, and leads directly to h.e.l.l.

_Devil_. Ay, very true, but only the person who commits it; and I was not advising you to do it. Remember, dear sister, you are not to be punished for all the sins which your nuns may choose to commit.

_Abbess_. But, in Heaven's name, how did you manage this dangerous affair without being discovered?

_Devil_. Oh, my situation was much more difficult than yours, for you are a.s.sisted by the report of the dream, which already fills the whole city. Suppose, now, you were to let a man, dressed like the Dominican, slip into Clara's cell, and the signs of the sinful deed were afterwards to appear, would not the whole world say that it was a trick of the arch foe of mankind? Let Satan have the credit of it, and do you remain sitting in your chair, adorned with that dignity which Heaven has been pleased to grant you. I have given you this advice out of friendship, and for your good; you are now at liberty to do as you please. At all events, I will send you some one to-night to personate the Dominican, and he will only have to return if you are too scrupulous.

The abbess sat like one amazed, and in her confusion began to tell her Rosary: "_Ave Maria_. It is certainly allying oneself to the Devil.

Blessed Ursula, illumine my darkness." She cast her eyes upon the image of the saint. "It would certainly be a great scandal to the convent.

_Ave Maria_. But then it would be placed to Satan's account. Perhaps, though, I might be d.a.m.ned for it. _Pater noster_. And am I now to become a servant in the cloister, and in my old days to be tormented by a superior, after I have so long tormented the nuns? This little baggage has already afforded sufficient scandal to the whole town without this.

Alas, when I have no longer authority to box the nuns about, how will this and that malignant creature revenge herself upon me! _Ave Maria_.

Well, I have made up my mind, and, for the good of the cloister, I will continue abbess the remainder of any days, cost what it will."

The Devil applauded her, and the plan was soon arranged. Upon going away the Devil said to Faustus:

"Now, what have I done else than ask the pride of this old beldame whether it is better to risk eternal d.a.m.nation, or to give up that tyrannical power over the poor nuns, which the hand of Death will soon deprive her of?"

Whatever pleasure Faustus derived from the certainty that his desires would be gratified, he was nevertheless much displeased that the Devil should always be in the right. That same evening the abbess herself introduced him, under the disguise of the Dominican, into Clara's cell while the nuns were at vespers. Clara herself soon appeared, and after she had commended herself to St. Ursula, she laid herself down. Her imagination, which had once been directed to a certain object, often repeated to her in dreams her former vision; and she lay in just such a transport, when Faustus approached her, and embodied the apparition, upon which Clara awoke, and still believed herself merely in a dream. The abbess in the mean time did penance in her cell, and made a vow to fast every week for the good of her soul. But the consequences of this night were horrible to poor Clara.

The next morning Faustus took leave of his family. Few tears were shed; but his old father, in a mournful tone, gave him wholesome advice.

As Faustus, with the Devil, rode over the bridge which leads across the Rhine, thinking of last night's adventure, and making comments upon the abbess, he saw afar off a man in the water, who seemed upon the point of drowning, and only feebly struggled against approaching death. He commanded Leviathan to save the man. The Devil answered, with a significant look:

"Think well of what thou requirest; he is a youth, and perhaps it will be better for him and for thee that he ends his life here."

_Faustus_. Thou fiend, only ready for mischief, wouldst thou have me withstand the sacred feeling of nature? Hasten and save him, I repeat.

_Devil_. Canst thou not swim thyself? No. Well, the consequences be thy reward; thou wilt repent of this.

He rushed into the stream, and rescued the youth. Faustus consoled himself with the idea of having, by this good act, atoned for the preceding night of sin; and Leviathan laughed at the consolation.

CHAPTER III.

The Devil now led Faustus through a series of adventures which were to serve as a prelude to the most afflicting vicissitudes. What Faustus had hitherto seen had embittered his heart; but the scenes which now opened upon him by degrees so wounded his spirit, that his mind was unable either to support or remedy them; and only one of the worldly great, or, what is nearly synonymous, a worker and designer of human misery, could have witnessed them unmoved.

The Devil and Faustus were riding in close conversation along the banks of the Fulda, when they saw beneath an oak-tree a countrywoman sitting with her children, appearing to be the lifeless image of agony and dumb despair. Faustus, whom sorrow attracted as much as joy, went hurriedly up to her, and inquired the cause of her grief. The woman gazed at him for some time, and it was not until his sympathising look had in some degree melted her frozen heart that she was able, amidst tears and sobbings, to explain herself in the following words: