During the next five years Dürer was in some measure compensated for the trials of his home by the cheerful companionship of his old friend Pirkheimer, who had recently returned from service with the Emperor's army in the Tyrolese wars. At his hospitable mansion the artist met many eminent scholars, reformers, and literati, and broadened his knowledge of the world, while receiving worthy homage for his genius and his personal accomplishments. Baumgärtner, Volkamer, Harsdorfer, and other patricians of the city, were his near friends; and the Augustine Prior, Eucharius Karl, and the brilliant Lazarus Spengler, the Secretary of Nuremberg, were also intimate with both Dürer and Pirkheimer. During the next twenty years the harassed artist often sought refuge among these gatherings of choice spirits, when weary of his continuous labors of ambition. Dürer pathetically narrates the death of his venerable father, in words as vivid as one of his pictures, and full of quaint tenderness: "Soon he clearly saw death before him, and with great patience waited to go, recommending my mother to me, and a godly life to all of us. He received the sacraments, and died a true Christian, on the eve of St. Matthew (Sept. 21), at midnight, in 1502.... The old nurse helped him to rise, and put the close cap upon his head again, which had become wet by the heavy sweat. He wanted something to drink; and she gave him Rhine wine, of which he tasted some, and then wished to lie down again. He thanked her for her aid, but no sooner lay back upon his pillows than his last agony began. Then the old woman trimmed the lamp, and set herself to read aloud St. Bernard's dying song; but she only reached the third verse, and behold his soul had gone. God be good to him! Amen. Then the little maid, when she saw that he was dying, ran quickly up to my chamber, and waked me. I went down fast, but he was gone; and I grieved much that I had not been found worthy to be beside him at his end." At this time Albert took home his brother Hans, who was then twelve years old, to learn the art of painting in his studio; and his other young brother, Andreas, the goldsmith's apprentice, now set forth upon his _Wander-jahre_. Within two years his mother, the widowed Barbara, had exhausted her scanty means; and she also was taken into Dürer's home, and lovingly cared for by her son.