Summary

Portrait of Georg Ebers Georg Ebers The Burgomaster's Wife — Volume 01

Van der Werff pressed his fingers firmly on the wood of the writing- table. The fresh color of his cheeks and lips had yielded to a livid pallor, and his mouth quivered painfully as he asked in a low, hollow tone, "Louis dead, really dead?"
"Dead," replied the baron firmly, though sorrowfully. "We were enemies, but Louis was a noble youth. I mourn him with you."
"Dead, William's favorite dead!" murmured the burgomaster as if in a dream. Then, controlling himself by a violent effort, he said, firmly:
"Pardon me, noble sir. Time is flying. I must go to the town-hall."
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Georg Ebers Georg Ebers The Burgomaster's Wife — Volume 01

The musician laughed, exclaiming: "You a coward! How many Spaniards has your Brescian sword killed?"
"Wounded, wounded, sir, far oftener than killed," replied the other. "If the devil challenges me I shall ask: Foils, sir, or Spanish swords? But there's one person I do fear, and that's my best and at the same time my worst friend, a Netherlander, like yourself, the man who rides here beside you. Yes, when rage seizes upon me, when my beard begins to tremble, my small share of sense flies away as fast as your doves when you let them go. You don't know me, Wilhelm."
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Georg Ebers Georg Ebers The Burgomaster's Wife — Volume 01

It was bestowed by the silent lips of my valiant father, beheaded for the sake of his faith, by the arbitrary decree, that without form of law, banished my brother and myself from the country—by the Spaniards' broken vows, the torn charters of this land, the suffering of the poor, ill-treated, worthy people that will perish if we do not save them."
"You will not save them," replied Wibisma in a calmer tone. "You will push those tottering on the verge of the abyss completely over the precipice, and go to destruction with them."
Source: Gutenberg

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