German fiction -- Translations into English; Holy Roman Empire -- History -- Charles V, 1519-1556 -- Fiction
He stretched both hands towards the little bed and, obeying a mighty
impulse of paternal affection, bent toward the boy to kiss him. But ere
his lips touched the child's he again gazed around him like a thief who
is afraid of being caught. At last he yielded to the longing which urged
him, and kissed little John--his, yes, his own son--first on his high,
open brow, and then on his red lips.
How sweet it was! Yet while he confessed this a painful emotion blended
with the pleasure.
He had again thought of Barbara, of her first kiss and the other joys of
the fairest May-time of his life, and the anxious fear stole upon him
that he might give sin a power over his soul which, after undergoing a
heavy penance, he thought he had broken.
Nothing, nothing at all, he now said to himself, ought to bind him
to the woman whom he had effaced from the book of his life as unworthy,
rebellious, lost to salvation; and, in a totally different mood, he again
gazed at the child. It already wore the semblance of an angel in the
gracious Virgin's train, and it should be dedicated to her and her divine
Son.
Then the boy drew his little arm from under his head.
How strong he was! how superbly the chest of this child not yet four
years old already arched! This bud, when it had bloomed to manhood,
might prove itself, as he himself had done in his youth, the stronger
among the strong. He carefully examined the harmoniously developed
little muscles. What a knight this child promised to become! Surely
it was hardly created for quiet prayer and the inactive peace of the
cloister! He was still free to dispose of the boy. If he should intrust
his physical development to the reliable Quijada, skilled in every
knightly art, and to Count Lanoi, famed as a rider and judge of horses;
confide the training of his mind and soul to the Bishop of Arras, the
learned Frieslander Viglius, or any other clever, strictly religious man,
he might become a second Roland and Bayard--nay, if a crown fell to his
lot, he might rival his great-grandfather, the Emperor Max, and--in many
a line he, too, had done things worthy of imitation--him, his father.
The possession of this child would fill his darkened life with sunshine,
his heart, paralyzed by grief and disappointment, with fresh pleasure in
existence throughout the brief remainder of his earthly pilgrimage. If
he, the father, acknowledged him and aided him to become a happy, perhaps
a great man, this lovely creature might some day be a brilliant star in
the firmament of his age.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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