The Poor Man of Toggenburg - Autobiography of Ulrich Bräker

Thus I thought, whenever for sheer well-being I had time to think. I was as fit as a fiddle, I could choose my victuals to my own taste, and Mariane, of course, did not let me want for titbits. Dancing and hunting aided my digestion, for without these I should indeed have lacked for exercise. Markoni paid visits to all the gentlefolk of the neighbourhood, I had to attend him everywhere, and it did my heart good to find him always so courteous towards me. These excursions, however, to visit those who for the most part were petty poverty-stricken nobility, did his purse no good at all. His playing at tarot with all and sundry also cost him goodly sums. On one occasion I was bidden to tear the cards into small pieces before his eyes and sacrifice them to Vulcan

- but the very next morning I was sent out for new ones.

Another time he had again lost a fair sum, and at nine o'clock in the evening he came home pretty far gone in drink and in a very ill humour. "Ollrich!" said he, "go and fetch some musicians, never mind the cost." - "Yes, your honour", I answered, "but I don't know where to find any, and besides, it's late and dark as pitch!" - "Out you go, you rascal", he continued, "or else - " And he pulled a terrible fierce grimace. I had to hurry outside and stumbled through the streets in the dark, keeping my ears pricked for the sound of a fiddle. When I reached the top of the town, the millers' and bakers' quarter, I noticed that some kind of revel was going forward there; I crept up the stairs and called one of the musicians outside. The young fellows in the room got wind of this, a few of them followed on my heels and whoops! set upon me with their fists. I had the landlord to thank that they did not beat me nearly to death. Although the son of Apollo had whispered in my ear that the musicians would soon wait upon me, I now had misgivings that he might not be able to keep his word. Nevertheless I was rash enough, when I came home, to enter my master's room with the words: "Your honour, in a quarter of an hour they will be here!" The fear of a fresh beating before the first had worn off moved me to this piece of daring. Now, however, I was devilish afraid lest I should find that I had only made matters worse. Meanwhile I related to Markoni what I had suffered on his account, in order to arouse his sympathy in advance, lest I should be out of luck. But they came, bless their hearts, before we expected them. Meanwhile the landlord had summoned some boon companions and a few young women. Now Markoni ordered food and drink, as much as the kitchen and cellar could supply, flung the musicians a ducat in advance, and danced a minuet and a polonaise. Soon, however, he began snoring in his chair, then he awoke again and called: "Ollrich! I'm damned unwell!" So I had to help him to bed. In a moment he was sleeping like a log. That suited the rest of us very well. We made ourselves as merry as pigs in clover, masters and servants all mingling together, and kept it up till four in the morning. My master awoke at five. His first words were: "Ollrich! Don't ever trust anyone in all your days, they're all as false as the devil himself. If that scoundrel von R- calls, tell him I'm not at home".

A highbrow way of saying that the cards were to be thrown on the fire. [Ditto, for a musician.]