Her Grace, however, would scarcely credit that the handsome youth who was fishing after so elegant a manner was indeed her own beloved son; but Clara clapped her hands now, crying, "Look! your Grace--look! there is the flag hoisted!" And indeed there fluttered from the mast now the bishop's own arms. So the warder blew his horn, which was answered by the warder of St. Peter's in the town, and the bells in all the towers rang out, and the castellan ordered the cannon in the courtyard to be fired off.
Her Grace was now thoroughly convinced, and weeping for joy, ran down to the little water-gate, where old Ulrich already stood waiting to receive the princes. As the vessel approached, however, they discovered that the handsome youth was not the bishop, but Duke Bogislaff, who had been staying on a visit at his brother's court at Camyn, along with several high prelates. The bishop, Johann Frederick, did not accompany him, for he was obliged to remain at home, in order to receive a visit from the Prince of Brandenburg.
When the Duke stepped on shore he embraced his weeping mother joyfully, and said he came to offer her his congratulations on her birthday, and that she must not weep but laugh, for there should be a dance in honour of it, and a right merry feast at the castle on the morrow.
Then he tumbled out on the bridge all the fish which the bird had caught; and her Grace wondered greatly, and stroked it as it sat upon the shoulder of the Prince. So he asked if the bird pleased her Grace, and when she answered "Yes," he said, "Then, dearest mother, let it be my birthday gift to you. I have trained it myself, and tried it here, as you see, upon the river. So any afternoon that you and your ladies choose to amuse yourselves with a sail, this bird will fish for you as long as you please, while you row down the river."
Ah, what a good son was this handsome young Duke!--and when I think that Sidonia murdered them all--all--even this noble Prince, my heart seems to break, and the pen falls from my fingers. [Footnote: Note by Duke Bogislaff XIV.--Et quid mihi, misero filio? Domine in manus tuas commando spiritum meum, quia tu me redemisti fide Deus! (And what remains to me, wretched son? Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit, for Thou hast redeemed me, Thou God of truth.)--When one thinks that it was the general belief in that age that the whole ducal race had been destroyed and blasted by Sidonia's sorceries, it is impossible not to be affected by these melancholy yet resigned and Christian words of the last orphaned and childless representative of the ancient and illustrious house of Wolgast.]