German fiction -- Translations into English; Holy Roman Empire -- History -- Charles V, 1519-1556 -- Fiction
Very recently men hitherto blameless, like Andreas Weinzierl and Georg
Seidl, had sent their eighteen-year-old sons to the University of
Wittenberg, where the Lutheran heresies were flourishing most
luxuriantly.
But the worst of all was that even faithful sons and daughters of Holy
Church could not keep themselves wholly untouched by such mischief.
Among these, alas! were he and his Wawerl, for he had been obliged to
allow the girl to join the choristers who sang in the Convivium Musicum,
which the Council had established in the summer three years before. Two
councillors were assigned to each Convivium, and thus these arrangements
were in Protestant hands.
"Of course," he added dejectedly, "I wished to forbid her taking part in
them, but, though with me it is usually bend or break, what can a man do
when a woman is pestering him day and night, sometimes begging with
tears, sometimes with caresses?
"Besides, many a good Catholic entreated me to give up my opposition.
They, do not grudge the girl her progress, and how much she already owes
to the music teacher who now directs the Collegium Musicuin! Singing is
everything to her, and what else can I give the poor child? At any rate,
the Netherlander whom the Council brought here three years ago--so
connoisseurs say--scarcely has his equal anywhere in knowledge and
ability. The man came to me and frankly said that he needed the girl's
voice for the Convivium, and, if I refused to let Wawerl take part, he
would stop teaching her. As he is a just man of quiet temperament and
advanced in years."
"Where is he from, and what is his name?" Wolf eagerly interrupted.
"Damian Feys," replied the captain, "and he is a native of Ghent in the
Netherlands. Although he is in the pay of the city, he has remained--he
told me so himself--a good Catholic. There was nothing to be feared for
the child on the score of religion. The anxieties which are troubling me
on her account come from another source."
Then, with a mischievous mirthfulness usually foreign to his nature, Wolf
raised his goblet, exclaiming:
"Cast them upon me, Father Blomberg! I will gladly help you bear them as
your loyal son-in-law."
"So that's the way of it," was the captain's answer, his honest eyes
betraying more surprise than pleasure.
Yet he pledged Wolf, and, touching his glass to his, said:
"I've often thought that this might happen if you should see how she has
grown up. If she consents, nothing could please me better; but how many
lovers she has already encouraged, and then, before matters became
serious, dismissed! I have experienced it. If you succeed in putting an
end to such trifling, may this hour be blessed! But do you know the huge
maggots she keeps under her golden hair?"
"Both large and small ones," cried Wolf, with glowing cheeks. "Truthful
as she is, she did not conceal from the playmate of her youth a single
impulse of her ambitious soul."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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