"Thereupon the priest said: 'Ah no! Herr Burgomaster, let not your worship be thus angered. I see that I have been led astray by that inconsiderate man Dr. Melchior, who represented the matter quite otherwise. I beg that your worship will signify to the women, that they may return to their homes; assuredly what has happened shall not happen again, of that I hereby assure your worship.' When the women heard this, and that nothing further had happened to the ladies, as has been related above, the women were well content, went home and laid aside their bundles and bunches of keys, nevertheless, not out of reach, that they might have them at hand day or night in case of need." Here ends the old narrative. The priest was obliged the following year to leave Löwenberg ignominiously, as he would not desist from his scandalous proceedings. Amongst other things he had a public chop and beer-house erected for the old Silesian beer. The spiteful Dr. Melchior became afterwards in desperation a soldier, and was hanged at Prague. And the valiant women,--we hope they took refuge with their husbands at Breslau or in Poland. After 1632, the town decayed more and more every year, now under Swedish or Imperial, now under Evangelical, or Roman Catholic ministers; in 1639, the town contained only forty citizens, and had a debt of a ton and a half of gold; in 1641, the citizens themselves unroofed their houses in order not to pay taxes, and dwelt in thatched huts. When the peace came, the town was almost entirely in ruins. Eight years later, in 1656, there were again one hundred and twenty-one citizens in Löwenberg; and about eight hundred and fifty inhabitants, eighty-seven per cent, of the population had perished. CHAPTER VI. THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.--THE PEACE. The peace was signed; the ambassadors had solemnized the ratification by shaking hands, and trumpeters rode about the streets announcing the happy event.