Margery [Gred], Complete, by 
Georg Ebers 
 
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Title: Margery [Gred], Complete A Tale Of Old Nuremberg 
Author: Georg Ebers 
Release Date: October 17, 2006 [EBook #5560] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARGERY 
[GRED], COMPLETE *** 
 
Produced by David Widger 
 
MARGERY, Complete 
(GRED) 
A TALE OF OLD NUREMBERG
By Georg Ebers 
Translated from the German by Clara Bell 
 
Volume 1. 
 
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: 
In translating what is supposed to be a transcript into modern German 
of the language of Nuremberg in the fifteenth century, I have made no 
attempt to imitate English phraseology of the same date. The difficulty 
would in fact be insuperable to the writer and the annoyance to the 
reader almost equally great. 
I have merely endeavored to avoid essentially modern words and forms 
of speech. 
 
INTRODUCTION: 
"PIETRO GIUSTINIANI, merchant, of Venice." This was the signature 
affixed 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 name 
and title! 
As I remarked on the splendor of his ancestry he slapped his pocket, 
and exclaimed, 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, who 
himself wore a moustache with stiff military points to it. 
"Their deeds!" he echoed scornfully. "I wish they had been less zealous 
in 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 day 
displayed some strange appendage in the lobes of her ears, which on 
closer examination I found to be a twist of thread. 
The child's pretty dark head was lying confidentially against my arm 
and as, with my fingers, I felt this singular ornament, I heard, from 
behind the little desk at the end of the counter, her mother's shrill voice 
in complaining accents: "Aye, Sir, it is a shame in a family which has 
given three saints to the Church--Saint Nicholas, Saint Anna, and Saint 
Eufemia, all three Giustinianis as you know--in a family whose sons 
have more than once worn a cardinal's hat--that a mother, Sir, should be 
compelled 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 the 
gentleman were to give you a pair of ear-rings, now; real gold ear-rings 
I mean? Thread for ear-rings, Sir, in the ears of a Giustiniani! It is 
absurd, 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's wife, I could reflect with some pride that I might esteem 
myself a benefactor to a family which boasted of its descent from the 
Emperor Justinian, which had been called the 'Fabia gens' of Venice, 
and, in its day had given to the Republic great generals, far-seeing 
statesmen, and admirable 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 Signora Giustiniani, as she pocketed a tolerably thick bundle of 
paper money, looked at me with that kindly pity which a good woman 
is always ready to bestow on the inexperienced, especially when they 
are young, that, no doubt, was because the manuscript I had acquired 
bore such a dilapidated appearance. The margins of the thick old 
Nuremberg paper were eaten into by mice and insects, in many places 
black patches like tinder dropped away from the yellow pages; indeed, 
many passages of the once clear writing had so utterly faded that I
scarcely hoped to see them made legible again by the chemist's art. 
However, the contents of the document were so interesting and 
remarkable, so unique in relation to the time when it was written, that 
they irresistibly riveted my attention, and in studying them I turned half 
the night into day. There were nine separate parts. All, except the very 
last one, were in the same hand, and they seemed to have formed a 
single book before they were torn asunder. The cover and title-page 
were lost, but at the head of the first page these words were written in    
    
		
	
	
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