This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D.W.]
By Georg Ebers
In translating what is supposed to be a transcript into modern German ofthe language of Nuremberg in the fifteenth century, I have made noattempt to imitate English phraseology of the same date. The difficultywould in fact be insuperable to the writer and the annoyance to thereader almost equally great.
I have merely endeavored to avoid essentially modern words and forms ofspeech.
"PIETRO GIUSTINIANI, merchant, of Venice." This was the signatureaffixed to his receipt by the little antiquary in the city of St. Mark,from whom I purchased a few stitched sheets of manuscript. What a nameand title!
As I remarked on the splendor of his ancestry he slapped his pocket, andexclaimed, half in pride and half in lamentation:
"Yes, they had plenty of money; but what has become of it?"
"And have you no record of their deeds?" I asked the little man, whohimself wore a moustache with stiff military points to it.
"Their deeds!" he echoed scornfully. "I wish they had been less zealousin their pursuit of fame and had managed their money matters better!—Poor child!"
And he pointed to little Marietta who was playing among the old books,and with whom I had already struck up a friendship. She this daydisplayed some strange appendage in the lobes of her ears, which oncloser examination I found to be a twist of thread.
The child's pretty dark head was lying confidentially against my arm andas, with my fingers, I felt this singular ornament, I heard, from behindthe little desk at the end of the counter, her mother's shrill voice incomplaining accents: "Aye, Sir, it is a shame in a family which has giventhree saints to the Church—Saint Nicholas, Saint Anna, and SaintEufemia, all three Giustinianis as you know—in a family whose sons havemore than once worn a cardinal's hat—that a mother, Sir, should becompelled to let her own child—But you are fond of the little one, Sir,as every one is hereabout. Heh, Marietta! What would you say if thegentleman were to give you a pair of ear-rings, now; real gold ear-ringsI mean? Thread for ear-rings, Sir, in the ears of a Giustiniani! It isabsurd, preposterous, monstrous; and a right-thinking gentleman like you,Sir, will never deny that."
How could I neglect such a hint; and when I had gratified the antiquary'swife, I could reflect with some pride that I might esteem myself abenefactor to a family which boasted of its descent from the EmperorJustinian, which had been called the 'Fabia gens' of Venice, and, in itsday had given to the Republic great generals, far-seeing statesmen, andadmirable scholars.
When, at length, I had to quit the city and took leave of the curiosity-dealer, he pressed my hand with heartfelt regret; and though the SignoraGiustiniani, as she pocketed a tolerably thick bundle of paper money,looked at me with that kindly pity which a good woman is always ready tobestow on the inexperienced, especially when they are young, that, nodoubt, was because the manuscript I had acquired bore such a dilapidatedappearance. The margins of the thick old Nuremberg paper were eaten intoby mice and insects, in many places