Margery (Gred): A Tale Of Old Nuremberg — Volume 06 — John Shaqi
Margery (Gred): A Tale Of Old Nuremberg — Volume 06Ebers, Georg
General
Margery (Gred): A Tale Of Old Nuremberg — Volume 06
Ebers, Georg
German fiction -- Translations into English; Nuremberg (Germany) -- Fiction
The good prelate was to be nine months journeying abroad, and whereas
five months were now spent we were rejoicing in hope of his homecoming;
but there was one in Nuremberg who looked for it even more eagerly than
we did, and that was my grand-uncle Im Iloff. The old knight had, as I
have said, done us thank-worthy service as our guardian; yet had he
never been dear to me, and I could not think of him but with silent
wrath. Howbeit he was now in so sad and cruel a plight that a heart of
stone must have melted to behold him. Thus pity led me to him, although
it was a penance to stay in his presence. The old Baron,--for of this
title likewise he could boast, since he had poured a great sum into the
Emperor's treasury,--this old man, who of yore had but feigned a false
and evil show of repentance--as that he would on certain holy days wash
the feet of beggar folk who had first been cleansed with care, now in
sickness and the near terror of death was in terrible earnest, and of
honest intent would fain open the gates of Heaven by pious exercises. He
had to be sure at the bidding of Master Ulsenius the leech, exchanged the
coffin wherein he had been wont to sleep for a common bedstead of wood;
yet in this even he might get no rest, and was fain to pass his sleepless
nights in his easy chair, resting his aching feet in a cradle which, with
his wonted vain-glory, he caused to be made of the shape and color of a
pearl shell. But his nights in the coffin, and mockery of death, turned
against him; he had ever been pale, and now he wore the very face of a
corpse. The blood seemed frozen in his veins, and he was at all times so
cold that the great stove and the wide hearth facing him were fed with
mighty logs day and night.
In this fearful heat the sweat stood on my brow so soon as I crossed the
threshold, and if I tarried in the chamber I soon lacked breath. The
sick man's speech was scarce to be heard, and as to all that Master
Ulsenius told us of the seat of his ill, and of how it was gnawing him to
death I would fain be silent. Instead of that Lenten mockery of the foot
washing he now would do the hardest penance, and there was scarce a saint
in the Calendar to whom he had not offered gifts or ever he died.
A Dominican friar was ever in his chamber, telling the rosary for him and
doing him other ghostly service, especially in the night season, when he
was haunted by terrible restlessness. Nothing eased him as a remedy
against this so well as the presence of a woman to his mind. But of all
those to whom, on many a Christmas eve, he had made noble gifts, few came
a second time after they had once been in that furnace; or, if they did,
it would be no more than to come and depart forthwith. Cousin Maud could
endure to stay longest with him; albeit afterwards she would need many a
glass of strong waters to strengthen her heart.
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