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XL. The Brownie 268

In the Duchy of Brunswick is a forest called Seib, and in this lies the village of Kneitlingen, where the good child Owlglass was born.

The life of this child does not confirm the old saying, "like father like son," for his father, by name Elaus Owlglass, was a quiet respectable man, and his mother, Anna, was the very model of a woman, for she was meek and a woman of few words. No particular circumstance attending the birth of our hero is handed down to us, and it therefore was, probably, not very different to other births; but it is recorded that he enjoyed the benefit of three distinct Baptisms.

There does not seem to have been any Church in the village where he was born, for when the time came for him to be christened he was sent by his parents to the village of Amptlen, where he received the name of Tyll Owlglass. The place is still remembered as the scene of this ceremony; but also because close by there stood once a castle of the same name, destroyed, as a nest of robbers, by the good people of Magdeburgh, with the help of their neighbours.

At the time we are speaking of it was the custom of the land that the godfathers and godmothers, together with the nurse and child, should adjourn, immediately after the christening, to an alehouse, there to enjoy themselves; and that part of the ceremony was not forgotten or neglected on this occasion. Now it was a long way from the Church to the ale-house, and the day was very hot, so that the party indulged rather freely in the refreshing beverage, delaying their homeward journey as long as possible.

At length, however, they had to get on their way; and the nurse, whose head was rather giddy and legs not over-steady, had very unpleasant visions of a narrow footpath with ground sloping down into a muddy ditch, and she had serious forebodings of how that part of the journey would be accomplished. The nearer she drew to the dreaded spot the more her nervousness increased, and young Tyll, whether that she clutched him more firmly to her, or whether he too had forebodings of danger, began to kick and struggle in her arms, so that her stopping on the brink of danger, to gather steadiness and courage, was of no manner of use, for just as one foot rested on a loose stone a violent plunge of the child threw her fairly off her legs, and threw himself over her head into the ditch below. But weeds are not easily extirpated; so no harm happened to the child excepting that he was covered with mud and slime. Then he was taken home and washed.

Thus Owlglass was, on one and the same day, thrice baptized. First, in all proper order and due form, then in the muddy ditch, and lastly, in warm water to cleanse him from the dirt. This was symbolic of the many mishaps of his future life, for evil is sure to fall back upon its perpetrator.

Our young acquaintance, Tyll, began at an early age to show signs of a decidedly marked character. He was full of life and spirits, as the other children of the village found out to their cost, for no sooner could he crawl amongst them than he played all manner of tricks. In truth he was more like a monkey than the child of respectable Christian parents, and when he had reached the age of four years he became daily more mischievous. He played his companions as many tricks daily as he was inches high, and, as "ill weeds grow apace," he soon became almost unbearable; but yet they could not do without him, so quick was his invention at all games, which, however, he so contrived that they were sure to end in a quarrel, taking care to get out of it himself before the blows came; and he would afterwards mock and laugh at those who had got hurt. He was even more dangerous away than with them, for he was then most certainly planning mischief. He would find out holes in the ground, which he carefully covered with sticks and grass, and then foremost in the race to a mark he had set up a little beyond the hole, he would stop short, in time to watch the others tumble one over the other into the trap he had set them.

Neither were the girls spared. Unknown to them he would fasten their petticoats together with thorns, as they sat on the ground, and then frighten them, so as to make them jump up suddenly, when he did not fail to point out the rents in their dresses, and laugh at them for the scolding and beating they would get at home. A hundred different tricks he played them, so that every day some were sure to be sent home crying and complaining.

True, he got many a thrashing from boys bigger and stronger than himself; but so sure was he to repay them tenfold, in one way or another, that both big and small were afraid of him. Nor were the parents spared when he could safely do mischief to man or woman, so that constant complaints were made to his father, to whom, however, he knew how to defend and excuse himself so artfully that the good simple man thought his dear child shamefully ill-used.

Tired, at length, of these daily complaints, his father determined to take him out with him when he knew the street would be full, in order to show the people how well and soberly his boy could behave; so, taking him behind him on his horse, having first impressed upon him that he must be very good, they started off together. Now what did this obedient child do? He put his finger up to his nose, and by various other insulting gestures mocked the people as they passed, till there was a general outcry against the mischievous little imp. His father was sorely puzzled; and Tyll, pretending to cry, said to him, "You hear, dear Father, what the people say. You know that I am sitting here quietly, without saying a single word, and yet all complain of me." His father hereupon places his dear child before him. Young hopeful, now seated before his father, could do nothing but make faces and put out his tongue at the people, who again were loud in their complaints. The poor man, who could see no fault in his darling, said, "Do not fret, my own dear Boy. We will go and live somewhere else, and get away from these evil-minded people." He did, indeed, move to a distance, and not many years after died, leaving wife and child in great poverty. Now young Tyll, though sixteen years old, had learnt no business, nor anything useful or good, but with years had increased in all malice and mischief.

We pass over a few years of Owlglass's life during which he continued to thrive in body, but we are sorry to say gave no signs of moral improvement. However, in the adventure we are about to relate, he was not so much to blame, the sufferers being scarcely better than himself, and in no way deserving of our sympathy.

He went one day, with his mother, to a feast in a neighbouring village, where, having eaten and drunk as much as he could bear for the time, he looked about him for a convenient place to sleep. He found some beehives, four of which were empty, and creeping into one of these he thought he would have an hour's quiet rest, but slept from mid-day to mid-night, so that his mother thought he had gone back home. Now in that night two thieves came to steal one of the beehives, and having heard that the heaviest was always the best, they tried the weight of each; and finding that one the heaviest in which Owlglass was, they settled between them that that was the one they would take, and walked off with it. The night was as dark as pitch, so that there was no seeing at all; but Owlglass was awake, and had heard them consulting with each other. The motion was not unpleasant as they carried him along; but yet he thought he could do better than sleep, and after short consideration he stretched out one hand, and with his finger first slightly touched the neck of the man before him, then he touched his nose, chin, cheeks, and forehead. At each touch of the finger the thief thought one of the bees had settled on him, till he fancied his face covered with them, and dreaded every moment to feel their sting. He dared not speak nor move a muscle of his face, but trembled with fear till the perspiration streamed down him. At length, however, scarcely moving his jaws, he ventured to mutter to his companion, "I say, Jack," he said, "have you anything on your face?" "Yes," growled his companion, who was not in the best of humours, for he began to find the hive heavy, "I have a nose on my face, and pray what have you to say against it?" "It is not that I mean," said the first speaker; "but have you ever heard that bees swarm in the dark, for I am covered with them?" "You are a fool," was Jack's only reply. After a minute Owlglass again put out his hand; and this time gave the front man a sharp tug by the hair, who, thinking his companion had done it, began to complain and swear. The other cried, "How is it possible I could pull your hair? Do I not want both my hands to carry this abominable hive? You must be mad or drunk; but let us have no more of your nonsense, or it will be the worse for you."

Owlglass laughed in his sleeve, enjoying this fine sport; and, after they had gone on a little further, he caught hold of the fellow's hair at the back, giving his head such a pull forward that he scraped his nose against the hive. The fellow's rage now knew no bounds. "You scoundrel," he cried, "first you say I pull your hair and now you pull mine; but wait, you shall catch it." Whereupon he let go of the hive, and the other doing the like, they fell upon each other, and a furious fight began. At length they both came to the ground, and, rolling one over the other down a steep bank, they became separated, and in the great darkness neither knew where to find the other nor the beehive.

Owlglass, seeing it was still dark, went to sleep again in the hive; and the next morning, not knowing where he was, went on his way whither chance might lead him.

The first village Owlglass came to he went straight to the Priest's house. Here he was hired, the Priest telling him that he should live as well as he and his cook, and do only half the work.

Owlglass agreed, promising himself to the very letter to act up to what had been said. The cook, who had but one eye, put two chickens to the fire to roast, bidding him turn the spit. This he readily did, thinking all the while of the Priest's words, that he should live as well as he and his cook; and, when the chickens were well roasted, took one of them off the spit, and ate it then and there.

When dinner-time had come the cook went to the fire to baste the chickens, and seeing only one, said to Owlglass, "What has become of the other fowl?" To this he answered, "Open your other eye, my good Woman, and you will see the two." She flew into a passion at having her defect of the loss of one eye thus thrown in her teeth, and straightway went to her master, to whom she complained of the insult offered to her, and how that his new servant understood cooking so well that two chickens dwindled down into one. The Priest thereupon went into the kitchen, and said, "Why is it, Owlglass, that you have mocked my servant? I see that there is only one fowl on the spit, whereas there were two; what has become of the other?" Owlglass answered, "Open both your eyes, and you will see that the other fowl is on the spit. I only said the same to your cook, when she grew angry." The Priest laughed, and said, "My cook cannot open both eyes since she has only one." Owlglass replied, "That you say, I do not say so." The Priest continued, "With all this, there is but one fowl." Owlglass said, "The other I have eaten, for you said I should live as well as you and your cook, and therefore one chicken was for me, and the other for you two. I should have been grieved that what you said were not true, and thus I took my share beforehand." "Well, well, my good Fellow," his master said, "it matters little about the eaten fowl, only you do in future what my cook tells you." Owlglass said, "Yes, my dear Master, as you told me so will I do." Now, at the hiring, the Priest had said Owlglass should do half the work which the cook would tell him, so that he only did the half of what she told him to do.

When told to fetch a pail full of water, he brought it only half full, and when he was to put two logs of wood on the fire, he only put one on. The cook saw well enough that all this was done to vex her, and said to her master that if he kept such a perverse fellow in his house she would leave it. Owlglass defended himself, saying, it was quite natural that having only one eye she should see the work only half done. At this the Priest laughed; but to appease his cook was obliged to dismiss his man, promising, however, that he would be a friend to him.

Owlglass had played so many pranks in the Duchy of Luneburgh that he was forbidden the land, the Duke giving orders that if found there he should be hanged. Nevertheless, he continued to pass through the Duchy whenever his road led that way; but one day, as he was riding along devoid of care, he saw the Duke himself coming with several followers. Then he said to himself, "If I fly I shall be pursued and cut down, and, if I remain as I am, the Duke will come up in great anger and have me hanged on the nearest tree;" and most provokingly one stood close by. There was not much time for consideration, and none to be lost, so, jumping off his horse, he killed the animal, and, ripping it open, took his stand in its inside. Now when the Duke came up to him he was astonished at his impudence, and still more so at his extraordinary position. "Did I not promise you," he said, "that, if found in my territory, you should be surely hanged? What have you to say for yourself?" Owlglass answered, "I put my trust in your Grace's goodness, and that you will not carry your threat into execution, seeing that I have not done anything to deserve hanging." "Well," said the Duke, "let me hear what you have to say in your defence, or rather, tell me why you are standing inside your horse?" Owlglass answered, "I sorely feared your Grace's displeasure, and thought I had better be found in my own property, where I ought to be safe." The Duke laughed, and said, "As long as you remain where you are you shall be safe," and then rode away.

Owlglass made the best of his way over the frontier; but it was not long before he had occasion again to be in the Duchy of Luneburgh, and hearing that the Duke was coming to the neighbourhood where he was, he straightway got a cart and horse, and going up to a peasant, whom he saw digging in a field, he asked whose land it was. The peasant said it was his own, for he had lately inherited it. Hereupon Owlglass asked for how much he would sell him his cart full of earth. They agreed for a shilling; and Owlglass paying the money, filled his cart with earth, in which he buried himself up to his arm-pits, and drove leisurely on his way.

It was not long before he met the Duke, who, seeing him sitting thus in the cart, stopped, and, with difficulty restraining his laughter, said, "Owlglass, have I not forbidden you my land on pain of death?" To this Owlglass answered, "I am not in your Grace's land, but sitting in my own, which I purchased from a peasant whose inheritance it was." The Duke replied, "Though sitting in your own land, your cart and horse are on mine; but this once more I will let you go in safety; beware, however, that you do not come again, for then nothing shall save you." Owlglass then immediately sprang upon his horse and rode off, leaving the cart behind.

After Owlglass had wandered all over Saxony, and was so well known that his trickery and scheming were no longer of any avail, he went to Hessen to the Count's court. The Count asked him what he could do, to which he answered, "Noble Sir, I am a painter such as is not to be found far and wide, for my work far surpasses all other." The Count then said, "Let me see some of your work." Whereupon Owlglass produced some curiously painted cloth which he had bought in Flanders. The Count was well pleased, and said, "What must I pay you to paint the walls of the grand saloon, representing the origin of the Counts of Hessen, and how they have held on in friendship and enmity with the kings of Hungary, and other princes up to the present time?"

Owlglass said for that he must have two hundred pounds; which the Count agreed to pay if he did the work well. Owlglass stipulated for one hundred pounds to be paid in advance, that he might buy colours and hire assistants, and also that no one but his assistants should enter the saloon during the progress of the work, so that he might not be hindered. All being agreed to, he hired three assistants, with whom he settled that they were not to do any work; but he nevertheless paid them their wages, and they employed themselves mostly playing at cards and dice. A month passed by, and then the Count desired to know what progress had been made with the work, and also to be allowed to enter the saloon. Owlglass now said, "Noble Sir, there is one thing I must tell you, namely, that the base born cannot see my work."

The Count was rejoiced on hearing this, thinking how he could prove the birth of all by whom he was surrounded, for he was mightily proud. They then entered the saloon; and Owlglass partly drawing back a cloth, which he had stretched across the side of the room he was supposed to be painting, said, pointing at the same time with his mahlstick, which he held in his hand, "Here you behold the first Count of Hessen, in whose noble bearing I trust you recognize the great founder of your noble house; by his side you see his wife, daughter of Justinian, afterwards Emperor of Bavaria: they had issue Adolphus, from whom descended, in a direct line, William the Brave, Lewis the Good, and so on up to your own noble self. You will not fail to appreciate how skilfully I have brought into my composition each worthy personage, occupied in a manner best suited to his character. The drawing I know is faultless, and I hope you admire the richness of the colours." Now the Count said nothing to all this, and he said to himself, "Can it be possible that I am base born, for I see nothing but the white wall?" However, for the sake of his own honour, he expressed himself well pleased, adding that his want of knowledge of art prevented his doing full justice to the great talent displayed; whereupon he left the room. As soon as the Countess saw him she anxiously inquired how he liked the painting, for she had her doubts of Owlglass, who appeared to her a rogue. The Count said he was well satisfied; and on her expressing a wish to see it, said she might, with the painter's permission. She immediately sent for Owlglass, and requested permission to see his work. Owlglass answered that he should be most happy to have her opinion of what he considered his masterpiece, telling her, as he had told the Count, the peculiarity about his work, that it was invisible to the base born.

The Countess went to the saloon with eight attendants, one of whom, a distant relation of her own, was rather weak-minded. Owlglass drew back the cloth, as he had done before, and explained his painting in the same words as to the Count. The Countess stared at the wall and then at him, and at the wall again, but did not make one single observation. The attendants were equally mute, excepting the weak-minded one, who looked at the wall and her companions in astonishment, and then exclaimed, that base born or not, she could see nothing but a white wall, and was convinced there was no more painting on it than on the back of her hand.

The Countess went straight to her husband, and told him that she was as well satisfied as he had been; but that her weak-minded relative maintained that there was no painting whatever on the wall, and that Owlglass was an impostor who was making fools of the whole Court.

The Count was vexed at this, and scarcely knew what to think; but determined to see whether any one else would make similar observations, he sent word to Owlglass to have everything ready on the following day to receive a visit from himself and his whole Court. On receiving this message Owlglass immediately dismissed his assistants, and went to the treasurer and begged to be paid the hundred pounds that were still due to him. He got the money without difficulty, and the following day was no longer at the Court, nor anywhere in Hessen.

Having had such signal success in the arts, Owlglass determined to try science and letters; and therefore, when he came to Prague, in Bohemia, he had notices stuck up, on the church and college doors, stating that he could solve the most difficult questions. His answers, here, puzzled the learned more than they had puzzled him with their questions; and thus made bolder in impudence, he went to Erfurt, where he gave out that he could teach any animal to read and write.

Now, at Erfurt there was a celebrated university, and all the learned doctors met together and discussed what they should propose to Owlglass, so that they might disgrace him, and come off with greater honor, themselves, than their brethren of Prague. As soon as they had come to a satisfactory conclusion, they had Owlglass called before them, and the head of the university said that they had determined to put a donkey to school with him, if he would undertake to teach it to read. Owlglass agreed to do this without hesitation, adding that, as a donkey was naturally a dull animal, they must allow him a reasonable time and a sufficient sum for the support of his scholar during the course of his instruction. After conferring among themselves, the learned doctors proposed that twenty years should be allowed for the accomplishment of the task, together with a sum of money which Owlglass thought sufficient; and having received part of the money in advance, he led his scholar off to a stall he had constructed on purpose for him. He felt no difficulty in his position, for he would be freed from all responsibility by the death of his pupil, which, at any time, could be brought about, but for the time being determined to have some sport. He took an old book, which he laid in the donkey's crib, having strewed some oats between the leaves, and when the animal found this out, it turned the leaves over with its tongue to get at the oats. Now, when it no longer found any it cried out, "E-aw! E-aw!" which Owlglass noticing, at once went to the head of the university and said, "Learned Doctor, would you not like to see how my pupil is getting on?" "Does he improve?" the Doctor asked; to which Owlglass replied, "He is naturally uncouth and difficult to be taught, but by great care and perseverance I have brought him on so far that he pronounces some letters." Several of the dignitaries of the university assembled at the donkey's stable, and as soon as Owlglass placed a book before the poor creature, which had been kept fasting all day, it eagerly turned over the leaves, looking for the oats, and not finding any, cried with a loud voice, "E-aw! E-aw!" "You hear, my worthy Sirs," Owlglass said, "that he already pronounces a vowel and a diphthong pretty distinctly, and I have every hope that his progress will now be more rapid." After this exhibition, Owlglass one night fastened a notice up at the college door to the effect that the donkey, his scholar, was now fully competent to be at the head of the university, and to instruct the other donkeys of Erfurt, whom he therefore left to his charge. Owlglass that night disappeared from the town, not forgetting to take with him the money he had so deservedly earned.

Owlglass visited Schomberg, where he had notices posted that he was a celebrated dentist and doctor; that he could not only cure the toothache without extracting the tooth, but that the most inveterate disease would immediately yield to his remedies.

He met with a wag who was willing to join him in cheating the good people of Schomberg, afterwards to share the plunder with him; and for this purpose his accomplice pretended to suffer intolerable pain from toothache, but immediately that Owlglass had administered a pill to him, which was nothing more than simple bread, he professed to be perfectly cured.

This wonderful cure took place before all the people, whereat they were greatly astonished, and they crowded to him to be cured of every imaginable pain; but Owlglass appointed all to meet him on the following day, at a stated time, for he was in treaty to restore the patients of the hospital to health, and that before that great work was accomplished, he could not undertake any fresh case. The master of the hospital, on hearing Owlglass's announcement that he could cure all diseases, had applied to him, for he had the hospital full of patients, and was most anxious to be rid of as many as possible. He agreed to pay fifty pounds, Owlglass engaging that the next day the hospital should be free of patients.

Now this is the way he set about the serious task. He went to the hospital and asked each patient separately what ailed him or her, after which he said:--

"You must now solemnly swear that you will not reveal to any living being what I am about to tell you." And having received the required promise, he continued:--"The only way in which I can cure you is by taking one of your number, and burning him to powder, give a portion to each of the others. Therefore, I shall take that one amongst you who is most seriously affected, in order that the others may be saved. Now to find out which is most hopelessly ill, I shall place the master of the hospital at the door, who will cry with a loud voice, 'Let those who are well come out;' and then the one that remains behind I shall burn to powder. Do not forget what I now tell you, for I should be sorry to have you sacrificed."

The following morning he said to the master:--

"All the patients are now cured, the truth of which you will find; for if you stand at the door and cry out, 'Let all those who are well come forth,' you shall see that not one will remain behind." It happened, indeed, as he said, and the hospital was left empty, whereupon he received the promised fifty pounds, besides many thanks. After this he received all who sought relief, whatever their sufferings might be; and giving each one of his bread pills, for which he took a small sum, he promised a perfect cure in three hours' time.

Before this time had elapsed, however, Owlglass left the town with his illgotten earnings.

Owlglass stopped one day at a roadside inn, for he had ridden a long way, and both he and his horse were tired. On entering the kitchen, which served as travellers' room, he found a Jew and two or three countrymen, who had watched him as he rode up, and were joking about his and his horse's appearance.

As I said, he had ridden a long way, and his horse, which was none of the handsomest, jaded and covered with dust as it was, cut but a sorry appearance, his own not being much better. The countrymen thought themselves rather wags, and one said, turning to Owlglass, "That is a handsome animal of yours." "And it must be allowed," the other added, "that the gentleman sat the spirited creature well. I should not have liked my sweetheart to see him as he came along." The Jew was glad to put in his joke, too; and, when it appeared he could do so with safety, said:--

"Is the shentleman willing to part with his handsome beast? For if so I shall be happy to deal with him, as it would just suit a great nobleman, a particular friend of mine, for whom I have been looking out for a horse; but he is very particular, and up to the present I have not been able to find one good enough for him."

The countrymen laughed boisterously at this sally of the Jew's, but Owlglass, appearing to take it seriously, answered:--

"My horse is, indeed, a splendid animal; but as I intend to rest myself here for some days I shall not need it, and am therefore willing to deal with you, my good Friend. I have sworn, however, not to part with it for any sum of money, however great, and I cannot break my oath; but you can have the horse for your friend, if you agree to my terms. These are, that, after I shall have given you six stripes on your bare back, the animal is yours."

Miserable as the creature was the Jew was ready enough to have it without paying any money, so agreed to the proposal.

Whilst the Jew was stripping his shoulders Owlglass said, "These two gentlemen are witnesses that the horse is not to be yours till I have given you six stripes." The countrymen, anxious for the fun, said they would be witnesses; and the Jew having bared his back, Owlglass tied his hands to a staple in the door-post, and clutching his whip firmly gave him such a cut that the poor Jew danced again. At the second stroke he fairly howled; and after giving him a third Owlglass said, "I see, my Friend, that you are not able to complete the bargain now, so I will keep my horse till some future time, when I shall have paid you the remaining three stripes." The countrymen were convulsed with laughter, and the Jew had the worst of the bargain.

Owlglass having determined to give himself a few days' rest, put up at an inn where he had noticed that the landlady was a very lively intelligent woman, for he thought that if an opportunity for a good piece of mischief occurred, she would be quite ready to second him. He remarked that amongst the daily visiters there were two particularly stupid who just on that account thought themselves superior to the rest, and gave themselves considerable airs.

Owlglass could not resist the temptation to play these a trick; and, having taken the landlady into his confidence, he invited them to sup with him. He told them many curious stories and adventures; and after he had prepared their minds to take in anything, however wonderful, he took down his hat, which was hanging against the wall, and which happened to be a very old one, saying, "You will scarcely believe that this hat is worth fifty times its weight in gold; but the fact is, it has the extraordinary power of making any one to whom I owe money believe I have paid them, when I hold it in a particular manner."

Fools as his guests were, this was more than they could believe; but Owlglass engaged to give them proof of it that very moment, and that they should see the landlady would say she was paid. He rang the bell, and when the landlady appeared, he asked her how much he owed her for the supper, and she said five shillings. Whereupon he continued, holding his old hat in a peculiar manner, on the tips of his fingers, "Have I not paid you for the supper?" To which she answered, "Yes;" adding that she was very much obliged to him.

At this they marvelled; and when he said he was willing to sell it for fifty pounds, there was a dispute between them which should buy it, when it was at length agreed they should buy it between them. When Owlglass received the money he made his accomplice a handsome present and went on his way, leaving the purchasers to try the virtue of the hat.

After this adventure, Owlglass went to Riesenburgh, where he lodged with the Priest, whom he knew, having been there several times before. This priest had a very pretty maid-servant and a beautiful little horse, which horse the Duke of Brunswick much wished to have, and offered a considerable sum of money for its possession; but though the offer was often repeated the Priest as often refused, for he was scarcely less fond of his horse than of his maid. Owlglass having heard this, and soon after hearing that the Duke was in the town, went to him, and said, "What will your Highness give me if I get you the Priest's horse?" "If you can do that," the Duke answered, "I will give you the coat I now have on." Now this coat was of scarlet velvet, ornamented with pearls.

After this Owlglass pretended to be ill; and taking to his bed, moaned and sighed so piteously that both the Priest and his maid were much grieved, and knew not what to do. As he daily seemed to grow worse, the Priest admonished him to confess, as he had many sins to answer for. Owlglass answered, that he was anxious to confess himself, for though he did not feel guilty of any grievous sin, yet there was one which weighed heavily on his mind, but that he could not confess to him, and therefore earnestly begged he would fetch him another priest. When the Priest heard this, there seemed something strange in it, and his curiosity being strongly excited, he said, "Dear Owlglass, I should have to go a long way for another confessor, and if in the meantime you should die unabsolved we should both have much to answer for, therefore speak, my Son, and your sin shall be forgiven you." "Be it so then," Owlglass said, "but my sin is not so great, as that I fear offending you, for it concerns you." This excited the Priest's curiosity still more, and he said, "Speak without hesitation, for I forgive you beforehand; besides, my anger need not matter, for I dare not divulge your confession." "Oh, my dear, good Friend," Owlglass answered, "I know I shall much anger and offend you; but since I feel that my end is near I will no longer delay. I grieve to say that I have kissed your maid more than once." The Priest inquired how often that had happened; and being told five times, he hastily absolved his penitent, and going out called his servant to him. He accused her of having allowed herself to be kissed by Owlglass; and though she denied it, he took a stick and beat her till she was black and blue. Owlglass laughed when he heard the maid cry, and thought to himself, now the business is settled; so after remaining in bed one more day and night he got up, declaring himself to be quite well. After settling with his host for his board and lodging, he said, "I am now going to Halberstadt to the Bishop, to denounce you for having divulged the secrets of the confessional." The poor Priest, who a moment before had felt quite happy at the prospect of getting rid of so dangerous a visiter, was now taken quite aback, when he saw ruin staring him in the face, and he begged most earnestly that he would not betray him, for it was in anger. He added that he would give him twenty pounds to purchase his secrecy, but Owlglass declared that he would not take fifty. Thereupon the Priest begged his maid to intercede, and ascertain what Owlglass would accept; and he, after making much difficulty, said he would not take anything but the Priest's horse. Now the Priest would rather have parted with anything than his horse; but there was no help for it, so he gave him the animal. Owlglass mounted the horse and rode off to Wolfenbuttel, where he found the Duke standing on the bridge. As he came near, the Duke took off his coat, saying, "You see, Owlglass, that as you have performed your part of the agreement I am ready to perform mine. There, take the coat I promised you." Owlglass then had to relate by what means he obtained the horse from the Priest; at which the Duke laughed heartily, and besides the coat gave him another horse.

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