The Maiden Lorenz

caption

Once, there was a delicate maiden who lived in Tangermünde, and she was called Emerentia Lorenz. She flowered with the freshness of youth and a comely shape, and when she walked through the streets — adorned with a brightly lit gown which her own delicate hands and spun and woven — then all stood still, and looked fondly as she passed by, and spoke: “This is our lovely maiden Lorenz, the ornament and crown of our city!” And the young men followed her from a shy distance in the hopes that they might catch an encouraging glance from the devout eyes of the girl.

The maiden was well-tempered and beautiful, and whoever she would favor in chaste courtship and follow as a faithful spouse could consider himself fortunate. For she was not merely beautiful, and of a devout and Christian temperament. She also had received a large inheritance, which contained a multitude of valuable possessions, such as golden chains and splendid gems, linen and high-rising beds, and polished cupboards made of nutwood which contained many things. And before the gates of the city, merry and fertile fields spread, as did a leaf-filled expanse of forest that stretched towards impenetrable distances. This was called the “Lorenzfeld” (“Lorenz’ field”) and, as the name indicated, it was all the maiden’s sole property.

But despite all these advantages, she remained modest and humble in her devout character. She remained friendly and even-tempered towards all. No one had made a noteworthy impression on her heart, and to visit God’s house and bring gifts of alms into the houses of the poor was the greatest pleasure in her heart. Where her father’s house stood — in the Lange Straße, close to the Nicolai Church — the poor congregated, and no one left without succor or nourishment.

Then it occurred at the start of spring, when the sun smiled fondly and merrily again over the frozen world, and the larks jubilantly sang in anticipation of the young season, that the yearning for the reawakened world drove the young maiden into the solitude of the forest. She left the outskirts of the city; she ambled, lost in thought, through the bloom-covered meadows, and while daydreams played out in her innocent mind, she approached the high dome of the deeply shadowed forest, whose fragrant, young foliage invited her to enter.

All around her there was deep silence — only the little birds fluttered with their wings while tweeting her greetings to the beautiful apparition. For it was around Pentecost, and the work of the field paused, and everything was caught up in the merriness of the spring air so that no wanderer encountered the girl on her lonely journey, and no fear overcame the girl in her solitude.

And she stepped into the subdued whispers of the forest, barely aware where her yearnings took her. And the centuries-old oak bowed its venerable head before the adolescent girl, and the white blossom-covered meadowsweets whispered to her, as if the rigid tree and the swaying shrub would recognize the power of her beauty and wanted to speak to her: “Welcome in the cozy grove, Emerentia, you lovely mistress! It is for your sake that we green so splendidly! We have dressed ourselves in the merry splendors of spring so that you would find joy in them!” And she proceeded further and further, inhaling the pure air, plucking a small flower here and there which looked up furtively to the beautiful girl from the green moss as if it desired to burn up its peaceful life at her chest.

Now she gazed after a slender doe which looked at her with clever eyes. And when she stepped closer in order to pet it, it hurried deeper into the thicket of the forest — frequently looking around in a luring manner as if it indicated to her that she should follow it. Now a bird flew up, and she wanted to search for its nest in order to enjoy looking at its delicate chicks. Now she sat down at the dew-covered grass at the banks of the rippling stream, dunked her flowers into the silvery flood in order to extend their young lives for mere moments, and then then she fashioned a delicate flower garland which had been formed in red, blue, and green by her fragile hands. And quietly she hummed a little melody while swarms of gnats danced around her, and the murmur of the forest streams accompanied the spreading tunes. And the words of the little song were:

“The scent of spring
floats in wide spaces
the lust of May
wafts through dark trees,
spring calls
you to merry dreams!

Come and see
the dark blue sky!
Come and flee
loud world’s turmoil!
Doesn’t entice you
the forest’s merry swarming?

Don’t you hear
the whispering in the oaks?
Don’t you see
the rustling of the leaves?
Don’t you want
to experience the lust for the forest?

Above glows
the clear freshness of spring!
Below flee
the small animals through the thicket.
Small berries pull
you to the forest’s table.

Oh, how beautiful
is the fragrant spring morning!
Far away seem
the dreary worries of the world!
The heights of the Heavens
will lend us this joy!”

While she thus sang in this manner, a nightingale jumped around on the hazel tree above her, and came closer and closer. The little bird listened to the pure notes, bobbing its little head back and forth, and a linnet cleaned its feathers. But Emerentia put the finished garland on the lawn, her golden-locked head on top of it, and fell into slumber. Now the doe, which had fled away from her earlier, snuck through the undergrowth, and laid down at the feet of the dozing girl, as if it wanted to guard her sleep.

When the maiden awoke from sweet dreams, the sun stood high in the sky, and everything around her was quiet and silent. This lonely silence was as disquieting as the haunting premonition of an approaching disaster. Thus, Emerentia jumped up from the surging grass so that the doe startled, and vanished between the trees at full speed. Whether it was this passing noise or the mugginess of the noon, an anxious feeling of loneliness tightened the chest of the maiden. Just as he had been merry and happy in the morning for being far away from other people, now she yearned to be among them and to hear the laughing voices of her friends.

With hurrying steps, she turned back to return to the splendid city that was her home. She looked neither to the right nor to the left, only forward to the exit of the forest! With each moment she believed to see the final trees, and behold the resplendent towers of the town! But woe! In the hurry of her journey, she had not observed the uncertain trails of the winding forest path! The forest became denser and denser, and the undergrowth became harder and harder to traverse. Now a barely visible footpath guided her to the side, then an animal trail led her through thorny shrubs and vanished without a trace in the undergrowth. Where should she turn, where should she find the path that would bring her to other humans? She no longer knew it! She only realized with paralyzing fear that she had lost her path! She called out — but only the echo answered, only the rustling of the disturbed animals! Where to? Oh, where should she hurry to? Hour after hour hurried past — the shadows of the trees lengthened — dusk rose — the night spread into the forest — and still, the poor girl hurried onwards and onwards, uncertain and at a loss.

Then the thick darkness put an end to her steps. Exhausted, the maiden stood still, and collapsed on the grass weeping. But slowly, her tears ceased. She collected her confused thoughts to a fervent, hopeful prayer. She put her safety into the hands of the one whose fatherly eyes watches over the lost, and succumbed to calming slumber. The morning shall help!

The morning began to shine. The maiden awoke from the strengthening sleep. As soon as it became clear to her where she was and why she had slept on a wet lawn instead of her soft bed, she started her journey with renewed vigor. The morning was so beautiful, the rising sun crowned the dark tree tops with its golden shine, the cuckoo lured with its call, the woodpecker picked in the gnarly bark, and the forest became alive with the thousand voices of awakening birds. How should she lose her hope with such a busy activity from the waking nature? No, she thought she would find the exit from the forest in short order. A few lonely, half-ripe berries stilled the gnawing hunger, but she barely spared the time to pluck them. For she had to flee the forest, return to the people, and hear human voices!

But once more, noon burned through the forest, once more did the evening darken, once more the birds went to rest, and still Emerentia strayed through the night of the forest, and could not find the escape from the woods! While she had now and then heard the sounds of far-off bells, or spotted a clearing in the forest, the sound of the bells had only led her back and forth, and the clearings ended in the impenetrable undergrowth soon enough. Still she held her head up high and did not lose her hope! But when the night returned with dark dread, and when all strength helplessly waned in face of the maiden’s fatigue, when she languished and sank down from hunger and thirst, then it seemed to her as if faith and hope were at an end, and as if the coldness of death spread through her limbs. Brooding dully, she ceded herself to her unavoidable fate. She was unable to pray, and barely even able to think until her consciousness left her to numbing sleep.

She still slept when a new dawn reddened the skies. The loud call of a nightingale woke her from a crazed, confused dream. But in a marvelous way, the sleep had rejuvenated her. And she, who had been so hopeless and downcast in the evening, now resolved herself to joyful hope in the morning. She kneeled down on her mossy place of rest, and, turning her devout eyes to the heavens in faith, she prayed aloud.

“Oh Invisible One!” she prayed “who has guarded your humble maidservant with your fatherly eye for two nights so that no harm has befallen her and no wild animals approached her helpless lair! You will also protect and guard me during the brightness of day! You will show me the exit from the forest, and lead me to the peaceful house of my father! I have surrendered myself to you, and your hand shall guide me! Be close to me, and do not leave me!”

She had finished her prayer, and looked out into the forest while remaining in her devout position. Then a splendid stag broke out of the undergrowth and, breaking its flight, came to a halt before the kneeling girl. He was a magnificent animal, with a body that was both delicate and evenly proportioned, with thin, dainty legs and many-tipped, proud antlers.

Enraptured from her prayer, the pale figure of the maiden seemed to fill the stag with both astonishment and pity, yet he did not have the courage to wake her from her devout reverie. But then he touched her with his antlers. She was startled, and saw the mighty forest animal before her. But she remained without fear and dread, as if she sensed as if the moment of her salvation from the misery of her errant journey was at hand.

And the stag no longer shied. He kneeled down, carefully took the non-resisting girl with the tips of his antlers, and joyfully carried her away through the forest. Soon he reached the exit with sure steps, and before her was Tangermünde with its splendid domes and towers! And with slow steps, he strode through the gate with his lovely burden, ignoring the throngs of people cheering him. He finally reached the high portal of the St. Nicolai church. Now he stood still, and proudly surveyed his surroundings. Then the relatives and friends of the maiden gathered, and lifted the girl they had believed to be lost from the stag, and questioned her and were astonished and wanted to lead her home.

But the maiden warded off the wild joy of her loved ones. She stepped into the house of God, threw herself down before the high altar, and with immense gratitude a silent pledge came from her lips before the throne of the All-Merciful.

The stag, who had waited before the gate of the church, accompanied the maiden into her house, and did not part from the saved girl. He ate from her hand, and even when a yearning for freedom drove him back into his forest home, he nevertheless always returned to her. She adorned him with a delicate necklace, on which the words “Emerentina’s Stag” were emblazoned with golden letters. The entire region knew him with this name, and no one dared to hurt him. But the maiden stood firm by the devout pledge which she had made before the altar of the Nicolai church. She remained unmarried, and gave the Lorenzfeld as an inheritance to the church for all eternity.

Source: Kahlbau - Erzählungen und Sagen aus der Altmark, p. 155f