Lake Saint Anne, August 15, 1679
My name is Ersebet, I'm 21 years old and I'm a witch. I’m not yet as good as my friend Sofia but I'm learning. For people like us, these are not good times. My lord and prince of Transylvania, Mihai Apafi I, has just started a process of witchcraft against Zsuzsanna Vitez, the wife of his political rival Pal Beldy.
The ridiculous thing or rather the grotesque thing is that Zsuzsanna knows nothing of potions, spells but she was only trying to help her husband in exile to take the throne. Poor woman! It's been 100 years since the midwife Clara Botzi has been burned in front of the Cathedral of Saint Michael in Cluj. And she was not a witch but only a gossiper.
It seems that lately is taken literally an Old Testament passage that says, "Do not let alive the witches or fortune tellers", without taking in consideration the many useful services that we can give to all, rich and poor, good and bad, healthy and sick. Fortunately that myopia of these witch hunters is so big that we often are not recognized otherwise we would be tortured and burned alive immediately. But let’s not be sad and continue to collect.Péter, an acquaintance of mine from the city, ordered a special aphrodisiac potion, to succeed in attracting Ilma, the most beautiful girl in the country.
Sofia described me all the plants that are needed for our profession and taught me how to use them properly in order to the best magic. I’m already close to the crater of Ciomatul Sea, the air is crisp, the sun warms the rare and precious herbs and thickens their moods.
My eyes are looking closely between the blackish rocks and muddy puddles a small and delicate plant, with leaves covered with a multitude of red hairs, each of which is topped by shining droplets. They are more than ten thousand years that this rarity grows in this area, we call it "grass of heaven" but you will call it the "dew of the sun". I have to be able to find only those who have not eaten yet, those who still have the shining drops intact, those little gems that everyone thinks is dew while is a shiny and rare sugary substance.
My mother, a witch too, told me in the evening by the fire as this plant hypnotizes insects with its pearls that reflect the sun and then eat them. I am lucky that this small and delicate herb but carnivorous grows close to my country. I have collected 5, sufficient for my potion, I just have to get home to squeeze them still fresh and get the precious juice necessary to satisfy my client’s cravings.
See also The Diary of a Witch: Part 2.
International editions: