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Ecosse
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« Reply #17 on: February 07, 2009, 02:27:26 PM » |
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LotS:
"Go rot notra! Notra was a thief!!!
A man of greed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Notra was a parasite lived of others!!'
Perhaps if you lived during his times you also would be looking for a meal.
Mr N was not a parasite he was a keen observer.
Traité des fardemens et confitures
(Mr N being the first French man to write a cook book in French)
For this particular Plague outbreak was so malignant that it was a sheer horror.
Many insisted that it was a Divine punishment, for at a distance of a league all around there was nothing but good health, yet the whole city was so infected that a mere look from someone who had been infected would quickly give it to another.
There were plenty of provisions of every kind at virtually dirt-cheap prices, but death came so suddenly and so frenziedly that fathers paid no attention to their sons, and many abandoned their wives and children as soon as they realised that they had been hit by the Plague.
Many who were covered with Plague spots threw themselves down wells in their delirium, others threw themselves down from their windows on to the cobbles, others who had carbuncles behind the shoulder and on their breasts suffered violent nosebleeds that lasted day and night to the point where they died, pregnant women aborted and at the end of four days died, and the child, too, died suddenly, and its whole body was found to be stained a purple colour, as if the blood had spread to all corners of the body.
In short, the desolation was so great that even with gold and silver in their hands, people often died for want of a glass of water, and if I prescribed some medicine or other for those who were afflicted, it was taken to them, but badly administered, such that many died with it actually in their mouths.
Among the [most] admirable things I saw, I think, was a woman who, even while I was paying a visit on her and calling to her through the window, replied to what I was saying -- still through the window -- while sewing herself unaided into her own shroud, starting with the feet.
And when the 'alarbes' arrived (which is what we in Provence call those who take the Plague victims away and bury them) and went into this woman's house, they found her dead, lying in the middle of the house with her sewing half-finished.
The above is what happened in three or four parts of the city, one of which I saw for myself.
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