eath did she
recover her senses. For, as a minister of the Lutheran religion (to
which newly springing faith she had attached herself, through the
example of her husband) was standing at her bed-side, and with a loud
and solemn voice was reading to her a chapter out of the bible, she
looked at him suddenly, with a dark expression, took the bible out of
his hand, as if there were nothing in it to be read to her, turned the
leaves over and over, as if she were looking for something, and at last
pointed out to Kohlhaas, who sat by the bed, the verse: "Forgive thine
enemies--do good unto them that hate thee!" She then pressed his hand,
with a most significant glance, and expired. "May God never forgive me
as I forgive the squire," thought Kohlhaas--and he kissed her, while
his tears were flowing fast, closed her eyes and rushed out of the
room. The hundred golden crowns, which the farmer had already advanced
him on the Dresden stables he took, and bespoke a funeral which seemed
less fitted for Lisbeth than for a princess. The coffin was of oak,
strongly cased with metal, the cushions were of silk with gold and
silver tassels, and the grave, which was eight ells deep, was lined
with stones and lime. He himself, with his youngest child in his arms,
stood by the grave, and watched the progress of the work. When the day
of burial came the corpse was laid out, as white as snow, in a room,
which he had lined with black cloth. The minister had just finished a
touching discourse by the bier, when the sovereign's decree in answer
to the petition, which the deceased had presented, was put in the hands
of Kohlhaas. The purport was, that he should fetch the horses from the
Tronkenburg, and make no further applications in this matter under pain
of imprisonment. Kohlhaas put up the letter, and ordered the coffin to
be placed on the bier. As soon as the mound was raised, the cross was
set upon it, and the guests, who had assisted at the funeral had been
dismissed, he threw himself down once more before his wife's deserted
bed, and then commenced the work of revenge. Taking a seat, he drew up
a decree, in which, by virtue of his innate power, he condemned the
Squire Wenzel von Tronka, within three days after the sight thereof, to
bring back to Kohlhaasenbrueck the horses which he had taken, and which
he had spoiled by field-work, and to feed them in person in his stables
until they were restored to their good condition. This pap