Serapis — Volume 01 by Georg Ebers
page 12 of 53 (22%)
page 12 of 53 (22%)
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shoulder, every breath we draw is a boon of mercy--the extra length
given in by the weaver, the hour of grace granted by the hangman to his victim! Our lives are no longer our own, a borrowed purse with damaged copper coins. The hard-hearted creditor has already bent his knuckles, and when he knocks the time is up. Once more let us have one hour of pure and perfect enjoyment, and then we will pay up capital and interest when we must." "It cannot and will not be yet," said Herse resolutely, but she wiped her eyes with her band. "If Agne sings even, so long as she does it without coercion and of her own free-will no Bishop can punish us." "He cannot, he dare not!" cried the old man. There are still laws and judges." "And Gorgo's family is influential as well as rich. Porphyrius has power to protect us, and you do not yet know what a fancy he has taken to us. Ask mother." "It is like a story," Herse put in. "Before we left, the old lady--she must be eighty or more--took me aside and asked me where we were lodging. I told her at the Widow Mary's and when she heard it she struck her crutch on the floor. 'Do you like the place?' she asked. I told her not at all, and said we could not possibly stop here." "Quite right!" cried Karnis. "The monks in the court-yard will kill us as dead as rats if they hear us learning heathen hymns." "That is what I told her; but the old lady did not allow me to finish; she drew me close to her and whispered, 'only do as my granddaughter |
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