That woman who so hates thee, dear Anselmus, and who,
as my father knows full well, is striving for possession of the
Golden Pot; that woman owes her existence to the love of such a Quill
(plucked in battle from the Dragon's wing) for a certain Parsnip
beside which it dropped. She knows her origin and her power; for, in
the moans and convulsions of the captive Dragon, the secrets of many a
mysterious constellation are revealed to her; and she uses every means
and effort to work from the Outward into the Inward and unseen; while
my father, with the beams which shoot forth from the spirit of the
Salamander, withstands and subdues her. All the baneful principles
which lurk in deadly herbs and poisonous beasts, she collects; and,
mixing them under favorable constellations, raises therewith many
a wicked spell, which overwhelms the soul of man with fear and
trembling, and subjects him to the power of those Demons, produced
from the Dragon when it yielded in battle. Beware of that old woman,
dear Anselmus! She hates thee because thy childlike, pious character
has annihilated many of her wicked charms. Keep true, true to me; soon
art thou at the goal!"
"O my Serpentina! my own Serpentina!" cried the student Anselmus, "how
could I leave thee, how should I not love thee forever!" A kiss was
burning on his lips; he awoke as from a deep dream; Serpentina had
vanished; six o'clock was striking, and it fell heavy on his heart
that today he had not copied a single stroke.
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