In the Fire of the Forge. Georg Ebers

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In the Fire of the Forge - Georg Ebers


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       Georg Ebers

      In the Fire of the Forge

       Historical Novel – A Romance of Old Nuremberg

       Translator: Mary J. Safford

      e-artnow, 2020

       Contact: [email protected]

      EAN: 4064066386573

      Table of Contents

       Part I.

       Chapter I.

       Chapter II.

       Chapter III.

       Chapter IV.

       Chapter V.

       Chapter VI.

       Chapter VII.

       Chapter VIII.

       Chapter IX.

       Chapter X.

       Chapter XI.

       Chapter XII.

       Chapter XIII.

       Chapter XIV.

       Chapter XV.

       Chapter XVI.

       Chapter XVII.

       Chapter XVIII.

       Part II.

       Chapter I.

       Chapter II.

       Chapter III.

       Chapter IV.

       Chapter V.

       Chapter VI.

       Chapter VII.

       Chapter VIII.

       Chapter IX.

       Chapter X.

       Chapter XI.

       Chapter XII.

       Chapter XIII.

       Chapter XIV.

       Chapter XV.

       Chapter XVI.

       Chapter XVII.

       Chapter XVIII.

       Chapter XIX.

      IN THE FIRE OF THE FORGE

       —PART I.

       Table of Contents

      CHAPTER I.

       Table of Contents

      On the eve of St. Medard’s Day in the year 1281, the moon, which had just risen, was shining brightly upon the imperial free city of Nuremberg; its rays found their way into the street leading from the strong Marienthurm to the Frauenthor, but entrance to the Ortlieb mansion was barred by a house, a watchtower, and—most successfully of all—by a tall linden tree. Yet there was something to be seen here which even now, when Nuremberg sheltered the Emperor Rudolph and so many secular and ecclesiastical princes, counts, and knights, awakened Luna’s curiosity. True, this something had naught in common with the brilliant spectacles of which there was no lack during this month of June; on the contrary, it was very quiet here. An imperial command prohibited the soldiery from moving about the city at night, and the Frauenthor, through which during the day plenty of people and cattle passed in and out had been closed long before. Very few of the worthy burghers—who went to bed betimes and rose so early that they rarely had leisure to enjoy the moonlight long—passed here at this hour. The last one, an honest master weaver, had moved with a very crooked gait. As he saw the moon double—like everything else around and above him—he had wondered whether the man up there had a wife. He expected no very pleasant reception from his own at home. The watchman, who—the moon did not exactly know why—lingered a short time in front of the Ortlieb mansion, followed the burgher. Then came a priest who, with the sacristan and several lantern bearers, was carrying the sacrament to a dying man in St. Clarengasse.

      There was usually more to be seen at this hour on the other side of the city—the northwestern quarter—where the fortress rose on its hill, dominating the Thiergartenthor at its foot; for the Emperor Rudolph occupied the castle, and his brother-in-law, Burgrave Friedrich von Zollern, his own residence. This evening, however, there was little movement even there; the Emperor and his court, the Burgrave and his train, with all the secular and ecclesiastical princes, counts, and knights, had gone to the Town Hall with their


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