"Ah, yes! If I could only play it well; I would give half my life to learn it properly. There is no such sweet enjoyment upon earth, I think, as this."
"But you have been sick, lady, and the cold air will do you an injury."
"Yes, it is true I have been ill, but the air rather refreshes me; and besides, I feel the melancholy of my solitude less here."
"Now farewell, dear lady; I must attend to the business of the castle."
This little word--"dear lady"--gave Sidonia such confidence, that by the time she expected Prince Ernest to pass again on his return, she was seated at the window awaiting him with her lute, to which she now sang in a clear, sweet voice. But the Prince passed on as if he heard nothing--never even once looked up, to Sidonia's great mortification. However, the moment he reached his own apartment, he commenced playing a melancholy air upon his lute, as if in response to hers. The artful young maiden no sooner heard this than she opened her door. The Prince at the same instant opened his to let out the smoke, and their eyes met, when Sidonia uttered a feeble cry and fell fainting upon the floor. The Prince, seeing this, flew to her, raised her up, and trembling with emotion, carried her back to her room and laid her down upon the bed. Now indeed it was well for him that he had given that promise to Ulrich. When Sidonia after some time slowly opened her eyes, the Prince asked tenderly what ailed her; and she said, "I must have taken cold at the window, for I felt very ill, and went to the door to call an attendant; but I must have fainted then, for I remember nothing more." Alas! the poor Prince, he believed all this, and conjured her to lie down until he called a maid, and sent for the physician if she desired it; but, no--she refused, and said it would pass off soon. (Ah, thou cunning maiden! it may well pass off when it never was on.)
However, she remained in bed until the next day, when the Princess and her train returned home from the funeral. Her Grace had assisted at the obsequies with all princely state, and even laid a crown of rosemary with her own hand upon the head of the corpse, and a little prayer-book beside it, open at that fine hymn "Pauli Sperati" (which also was sung over the grave). Then the husband laid a tin crucifix on the coffin, with the inscription from I John iii. 8--"The Son of God was manifested that He might destroy the works of the devil." After which the coffin was lowered into the grave with many tears.