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Updated: May 13, 2025
Her last thoughts on the night before her execution had filled this place, and the magic that tradition asserted to have been practised here, in Sir Svanwedel's time, came into Jurgen's mind, and made him shudder; but a sunbeam, a refreshing thought from without, penetrated his heart even here it was the remembrance of the flowering elder and the sweet smelling lime-trees.
So I will not waste the one real passion I have known, nor leave unfed the one desire which ever caused me for a heart-beat to forget to think about Jurgen's welfare. And thus, whatever happens, I shall not always regret that I did not avail myself of this girl's love before it was taken from me." So Jurgen made such advances as seemed good to him.
It was repeated twice in the year, and was, in fact, the visit of the brother of Jürgen's foster-mother, the eel breeder from Zjaltring, upon the neighbourhood of the "Bow Hill." He used to come in a cart painted red, and filled with eels. The cart was covered and locked like a box, and painted all over with blue and white tulips. It was drawn by two dun oxen, and Jürgen was allowed to guide them.
Then Koshchei smiled and created Heaven about Steinvor and her illusions, and he made Heaven just such a place as was described in the book. "And so, Jurgen, that was how it came about," ended the God of Jurgen's grandmother.
It was Jurgen's turn to nod. Everybody knew who had begotten Merlin Ambrosius, and sensible persons preferred not to talk of the matter. Then Merlin went on to speak of the traffic between Merlin and Merlin's shadow. "Thus and thus," says Merlin, "I humor my shadow. And thus and thus my shadow serves me. There is give-and-take, such as is requisite everywhere."
And the God of Jurgen's grandmother, too, was silent for a while, and the rainbow under which He sat put off its seven colors and burned with an unendurable white, tinged bluishly, while the God considered ancient things. Then in the silence this God began to speak. "Bring me this infidel," says Koshchei: so they brought to him in the void a little bent gray woman in an old gray shawl.
He thought of the plenteousness of the southern fruit, of the red pomegranate flowers, of the humming, buzzing, and toiling in the great beehive of a city he had seen; but home is the best place after all, and Jurgen's home was Denmark. At last they arrived at "Vendilskaga," as Skjagen is called in old Norwegian and Icelandic writings.
The visits to the church were festive occasions, but among the fisherman's house one was especially looked forward to; this was, in fact, the visit of the brother of Jurgen's foster-mother, the eel-breeder from Fjaltring, near Bovbjerg.
"The usual preliminaries, sir, are out of the question: and I must positively decline to be stabbed or poisoned or anything of that kind, even to humor my grandfather." Both Smoit and Sylvia protested that any such radical step would be superfluous, since Jurgen's ghostship was to be transient.
Of Caliburn, said Anaitis, there was no present need: so Jurgen's sword was hung upon the wall. These girls brought silver bowls containing wine mixed with honey, and they brought pomegranates and eggs and barleycorn, and triangular red-colored loaves, whereon they sprinkled sweet-smelling little seeds with formal gestures.
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