" Up and down is the way of the world!" said he，" it is strange to hear!" And we shall hear how it went with Marie Grubbe， but we will not forget Poultry Meg， who sits in her grand hen-house in our time ; Marie Grubbe sat there in her time，but not with the same spirit as old Poultry Meg.
The winter passed， spring and summer passed， andthen again came the stormy autumn-time ， with the cold， wet sea-fogs.It was a lonely life， a wearisome life there in the old manor-house.So Marie Grubbe took her gun and went out on the moors， and shot hares and foxes，andwhatever birds she came across. Out there she met oftenerthan once noble Sir Palle Dyre from Nrrebaek， who was al- so wandering about with his gun and his dogs. He was bigand strong， and boasted about it when they talked together.He could have dared to measure himself with the late Mr.
Brockenhus of Egeskov， of whose strength there were still stories. Palle Dyre had， following his example， caused an iron chain with a hunting-horn to be hung at his gate， andwhen he rode home he caught the chain， and lifted himself with the horse from the ground， and blew the horn.
" Come yourself and see it， Dame Marie!" said he，"there is fresh air blowing at Nrrebaek!"
When she went to his house is not recorded， but onthe candlesticks in Nrrebaek Church one can read that they were given by Palle Dyre and Marie Grubbe of Nrrebaek Castle.
Bodily strength had Palle Dyre： he drank like a sponge ; he was like a tub that could never be filled; hesnored like a whole pig-sty， and he looked red and bloat- ed. "He is Piggish and rude!" said Dame Palle Dyre，Grubbe's daughter.Soon she was tired of the life， but thatdid not make it any better.One day the table was laid，and the food was getting cold;Palle Dyre was fox-hunting and the lady was not to be found.Palle Dyre home at midnight，Dame Dyre came neither at midnight nor in the morning ， she had turned her back on Nrrebaek had ridden away without greeting or farewell.
It was grey wet weather; the wind blew cold， and a flock of black screaming birds flew over her， they were not so homeless as she.
First she went south，quite up to Germany; a couple of gold ring with precious stones were turned into money ;
then she went east， and then turned again to the west; shehad no goal before her eyes， and was angry with every one，even with the good God Himself， so wretched was hermind;soon her whole body became wretched too，and she could scarcely put one foot before another.The peewit flew up from its tussock when she fell over it：the bird screamed as it always dose ，"You thief!You thief! "Shehad never stolen her neighbour's goods， but birds'eggsand young birds she had had brought to her when she was a little girl; she thought of that now. From where she lay she cluld see the sand-hills by the shore; fishermen lived there， but she could not get sofar，she was so ill.The great white sea-mews came flyingabove her and screamed as the rooks and crows screamed over the garden at home. The birds flew very near her， and at last she imagined that they were coal-black， butthen it became night before her eyes.
When she again opened her eyes was being car- ried; a big， strong fellow had taken her in his arms.Shelooked straight into his bearded face; he had a scar overhis eye， so that the eyebrow appeared to be divided in two. He carried her， miserable as she was， to the ship，where he got a rating from the captain for it.
The day following，the ship sailed;Marie Grubbe was not put ashore， so she went with it. But she came back again， no doubt? Yes， but when and where?
The clerk could also tell about this， and it was not astory which he himself had put together. He had the whole strange story from a trustworthy old book;we our- selves can take it out and read it.
The Danish historian， Ludwig Holberg， who has written so many useful books and the amusing comedies from which we can get to know his time and people， tells in his letters of Marie Grubbe， where and how he mether;it is well worth hearing about，but we will not forgetPoultry Meg，who sits so glad and comfortable in her grand hen-house.
The ship sailed away with Marie Grubbe;it was there we left off.
Years and years went past.