knows that I pity you, who are a poor, weak old man, and would gladly help
you if I were able." Meanwhile he led me up four or five flights of
stairs, so that I, old man that I am, could follow him no further, and
stood still gasping for breath. But he took me by the hand and said,
"Come, I must first show you how matters really stand, or I fear you will
not accept my help, but will plunge yourself into destruction." Hereupon
we stepped out upon a terrace at the top of the castle, which looked
toward the water; and the villain went on to say, "Reverend Abraham, can
you see well afar off?" and when I answered that I once could see very
well, but that the many tears I had shed had now peradventure dimmed my
eyes, he pointed to the Streckelberg, and said, "Do you, then, see nothing
there?" _Ego_. "Nought save a black speck, which I cannot make out."
_Ille_. "Know, then, that that is the pile whereon your daughter is to
burn at ten o'clock to-morrow morning, and which the constables are now
raising." When this hell-hound had thus spoken, I gave a loud cry and
swounded. Oh, blessed Lord! I know not how I lived through such distress;
thou alone didst strengthen me beyond nature, in order, "after so much
weeping and wailing, to heap joys and blessings upon me; without thee I
never could have lived through such misery: therefore to thy name ever be
all honour and glory, O thou God of Israel!"

When I came again to myself I lay on a bed in a fine room, and perceived a
taste in my mouth like wine. But as I saw none near me save the Sheriff,
who held a pitcher in his hand, I shuddered and closed mine eyes,
considering what I should say or do. This he presently observed, and said,
"Do not shudder thus; I mean well by you, and only wish to put a question
to you, which you must answer me on your conscience as a priest. Say,
reverend Abraham, which is the greater sin, to commit whoredom, or to take
the lives of two persons?" and when I answered him, "To take the lives of
two persons," he went on, "Well, then, is not that what your stubborn