The wildest night hid not greater debauchery
than was here committed in broad daylight.
"To-day we shall eat, for to-morrow we die!"--It was as if they had
set these words to music, and played on manifold instruments a
never-ending hellish concert. Yea, if all sins had not already been
invented, they would have been invented here, for there was no road
they would not have followed in their wickedness. The most unnatural
vices flourished among them, and even such rare sins as necromancy,
magic, and exorcism were familiar to them, for there were many who
hoped to obtain from the powers of evil the protection which heaven
had not vouchsafed them.
Whatever had to do with mutual assistance or pity had vanished from
their minds; each one had thoughts only for himself. He who was sick
was looked upon as a common foe, and if it happened that any one was
unfortunate enough to fall down on the street, exhausted by the first
fever-paroxysm of the plague, there was no door that opened to him,
but with lance-pricks and the casting of stones they forced him to
drag himself out of the way of those who were still healthy.
And day by day the plague increased, the summer's sun blazed down upon
the town, not a drop of rain fell, not the faintest breeze stirred.
From corpses that lay rotting in the houses and from corpses that were
only half-buried in the earth, there was engendered a suffocating
stench which mingled with the stagnant air of the streets and
attracted swarms and clouds of ravens and crows until the walls and
roofs were black with them.
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