# Zawis and Kunigunde/Chapter 17

CHAPTER XVII.
SUPERSTITION AND TREACHERY IN THE PALACE.
“Ah, altissima carissima,” exclaimed Teresa as Queen Judith questioned her about fate and fortune, “you may well believe there are mysteries in stars, and in the spirits too.”
“Yes,” replied Judith, “but at this moment I want to know what your secret observations portend.”
“Times when he did not expect me I have hid in the fen where imp lanterns do dance, and where restless ghosts in awful shape do move at dusk; and as the Jew kindled his magic brazier and the fumes of hemlock rose, I could perceive, as my senses reeled, the terrible shapes of scowling fiends roll and tumble, and mingle in one monstrous form, and then separate again with worse shape than before; and as the smallage sent out its savory steam, new figures again arose and danced before me; and all these were men fiends terrible and dark; but when the Jew applied his violet roots with St. John’s wort, and mint, and their sweet incense arose upon the moist air, and valley steam, I saw the woman imps dance around and smirk upon their partner imps, and all obeyed the nod of the magician Jew who controlled them with his incantations. And as he threw into his flaming brazier the mummy dust from the dark ​tombs of Egypt the ancient dead appeared at his call; and by magic sign learned the mysteries of life and death.”
“Did you hear any especial inquiry affecting me?” asked Judith, deeply aroused and eager.
“Only dark allusions to a lace veil steeped in hemlock and nightshade juice,” replied Teresa, “and as I looked I saw Zawis himself in vision receive it from the ghost hands of the spirits the Jew had called up. But it is not yet completed, and Zawis smiled at the splendid work, and the Jew vowed abundant incense to those that held it in their bony fingers. And on it were leaves as of the forest shrubs, and blossoms half concealed by mist and steam; and all seamed like a picture of fairy work, so perfect did the sprays and growing leaves appear.”
“Truly a strange gift from the spirits of darkness and of mist to a man!” interposed Judith.
“Nay, altissima,” observed Teresa, dropping her voice to a whisper, “it is a purposed gift to his young wife to wear at the baptism that may be. It will preserve from the malignant power of other imps not controlled by the Jew; for you know, altissima, all the spirits obey not one master.”
“Think you the gift will be beneficent when it comes?” inquired Judith.
“Not if the spirits are offended, or overpowered by other spirits,” answered Teresa. “In such case the stronger will prevail; and if Zawis finds his magic sorceries displeasing, he will confer the accursed gift on some enemy he is anxious to destroy.”
​“Did you obey my commands in reference to the parchment?” asked Judith.
“In my excessive haste,” answered Teresa, “I tore off the signature; but as this woman Agaphia approached I hurriedly concealed the parchment in the strong chest, of which I keep the golden key. It was Otakar’s own secret repository; and the key was taken from his body. It is all secure as the other documents; and I can produce them or not as may be necessary for safety.” The last ambiguous words in an undertone did not at the moment convey their full significance tothe queen. Judith little suspected that her trusted confidant was in reality her tyrant. Little also did Zawis and his young wife suspect of the dreadful plot thus fiendishly planned for his destruction.
Having dismissed her artful espion who had worked herself into the favor of the queen by touching those peculiar traits that Judith exhibited, and stimulating a tendency of fancy that Judith encouraged in her married days in continuance of the weird fictions related to her in her childhood, the queen requested that the duke Nicolas might be introduced.
“I know of no method, highness,” replied the duke of Troppau, “whereby his individual apprehension may be secured. His marriage alliance with the royal house of Hungary, his strength in fortresses and in allies, his numerous and attached adherents, and his personal caution, render any attempt at open assault extremely hazardous. I fear also that the grant of the fifty thousand marks from King Otakar ​may be proved well founded. In such case we have no sufficient grounds for accusation.”
“I am informed,” replied Judith, “that the deed of gift, if it ever took effect at all, was destroyed, presumably by the king himself.
“There are statements to that effect; and in such case the claim that this sum of fifty thousand marks ever legally belonged to the queen, or is now legally the property of the queen’s son, must prove unfounded. If only a document should exist unsigned, or mutilated apparently by the king, then the treasury has been defrauded.”
“I should apprehend extremely pernicious consequences from the production or the existence of any such document,” replied Nicolas. “The King, my father, was circumspect, and never mutilated any document to which he attached his sign manual. I cannot accept any such theory. I feel compelled to consider the appropriation of the money in question as direct theft, for which the law imposes the severest penalty. Unless Zawis can produce the official authority for the retention of this money, he must suffer the doom of a traitor.”
“Perhaps careful search—” interposed Judith, becoming alarmed.
“I cannot undertake such duty,” quickly rejoined Nicolas. “I believe Zawis to be guilty from what I know of the man’s character, and from the feelings I entertain that must have been infused into my being by the intervention of some of those unseen powers that surround, touch, and pour into our minds those ​sentiments and impressions that indicate facts and dangers whereof by ordinary senses we must be unconscious.”
“I know that divines and doctors attribute such strange impressions to those sources,” interposed Judith; “and there are also malignant influences exercised against us by sorcerers and the secret servants of demons. I am admonished of such being in operation at present; but I trust to the effect of more powerful appeals to the other spirits that are higher in rank and dignity. I feel some mysterious sensations chasing each other through my senses, and I would seek the counsel of Brother Tertius. My confessor will interpose to allay my apprehension when his next stated visit is concluded.”
Brother Tertius found the young queen exceedingly nervous. “I divine,” he said, “that some evil influence has been at work. Some divination or sorcery has made your highness its victim.”
“I feel a creeping through my bones,” said Judith, “a coldness, and a chill that makes me tremble. Some powerful incantation has been practiced, for my limbs shake, and every third hourI am thus affected. I am cold; I shiver; and again I am hot and I tremble. I feel as if some unseen power pulled all my limbs; andI grind my teeth as if I wished to bite.”
“Some terrible sorcerer has been at work,” remarked Brother Tertius.
“Last evening,” said Judith, “as I sat taking the air, I felt a delightful, cool, and dew-laden blast come from ​the marsh; and I sat and enjoyed it without mantle or other protection. I now fear that some magician has infused his malicious arts into the breeze and sent them hither to bewitch me.”
“And it is in the swamps that spirits do arise and congregate, and perform their demontiacal orgies,” said Tertius eagerly. “Here they dance their sabbazia dance, and hold their satanic revels; here they erect their throne with a baboon-faced monster for king of the feast, and with other shameful exhibitions; and here they burn their magical compounds; from here they transmit their poison vapors that roll along with fiendish shapes; and here they burn the image of the victim of their diabolism; here they worship Hecate, until drunk with fury and debauchery they hide themselves in thickets until the Aurora expels them with its dawning.”
“I have heard of these ‘Sabbata,’” replied Judith.
“And it is these that Zawis and his crew have harbored and encouraged,” replied Tertius. “Long has the church condemned these revelings of Satan, and proscribed them. Jews and sorcerers have diffused this worst of all heresy, until now it has penetrated even our palace, and made yout highness its victim.”
“We must counteract sorcery with sorcery,” interposed Nicolas. “I believe I know a skillful practitioner in antidotes; and I will take steps to secure your highness’ apartments from the assaults of such witchery, so soon as magister Tertius shall have concluded the exercise that is prescribed.”
“I am informed,” said Judith, “of an intended gift ​to me from Zawis himself; of fine texture, artful design, and artistic workmanship. I fear some evil purpose lurks beneath it.”
“Beware, highness, of the beauty that bewilders,” said Tertius. “The powers of Satan are guileful; and he knows howto add splendor to material, and adornment to handicraft in order the better to entice the faithful. He endows the hand with unnatural skill, and guides the fingers to exquisite manipulation. He adorns his gifts with beauty to charm the eye, and costliness to win appreciation. He emblazons art upon the walls of the unbelievers; and decorates the chambers of the infidel with the wonders that entice the taste. He decks the heads of heretics with jewels, and replenishes the coffers of the Jew with wealth. He fills the unholy souls of scoffers with the knowledge of stars, and lays open the mysteries of planets to their research. He unlocks the complications of disease to their inquiries, and even fills their lips with the words that utter charity and wisdom. He makes them prosperous, and renowned, and honored by kings and cities, in order that he may the more effectually entice souls into his satanic kingdom by their means, and extend the dominion of hades. Satan spreads the witchery of these temptations before the eyes, the tastes, the intellect, the comfort, and the household sensibilities of men in order that he may employ all methods to destroy faith and render souls his slaves forever.
“Better a thousand times poverty, pain, suffering, want, self-chastisement and all evils on this earth, ​in order that souls may go untainted by these seductions into the kingdom of heaven. I would rather see a wilderness occupied by wolves and snakes, than a prosperous and happy people under the delusions of Satan’s joys.”
Nicolas had inherited some of his father’s love of splendor and of dignity, and desired that his dukedom should furnish as much of both as possible. The ambition of Brother Tertius to create a wilderness for wolves and snakes did not suit his taste; and he there fore asked: “How does your reverence reconcile your principles with the love of gain, luxury, splendor, and dominion of the brethren who have rendered the holy monastery of the ‘Thorn Crown,’ established by my father, a center of wealth and power such as few houses in Bohemia or elsewhere can boast of? How do you know that Satan is not now tempting the cowled brethren to that mode of life that leads to destruction?”
Brother Tertius would not surrender his position.
“I fear that many if not all of those houses of the regular clergy,” he replied,”'are becoming or have become already the nurseries of vice, and that Satan reigns there under the power of the very, seductions I have described.” The conversation had developed into an unexpected and unwelcome direction, and Brother Tertius and Nicolas retired. The guard, in slight self-forgetfulness, hummed a song, and at length broke forth in an undertone.
“Sing tra ta la, boys, sing; To-morrow to the winds let us fling;
And our hearts be ever gay; While fools toil we tramp away; And gold and luck will bring us everything.”
“Do you want more May bliss?” slyly suggested Agaphia close by. “I recognize you now by the song.”
“Ho! was it you?” exclaimed the guard.
“If you are good you may have some,” answered Agaphia; “but you must earn your ‘bliss’ before you get it.”
“Even so,” replied the guard. “I accept the conditions. Come now, don’t be too severe.”
“Very well,” replied Agaphia. “Some things I want to recover have been picked up and locked in the strong chest; you can borrow the key from the veiled woman.”
“You impose a hard task,” responded the guard; “she always carries the key by a chain around her neck. If such be your terms I fear I shall lack May bliss.”
“You shall have some anyway,” answered Agaphia, handing him a small portion.
“Well,” he said, “good will is better even than May bliss; and if chance serves me to secure the key for a short moment, you shall have it.”