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to continue to stay in the forest I could expect no assistance from him since, as I could see with my own eyes, both his church and parsonage were in flames.
    At that I made my way sadly back to my hut in the woods. Since my journey to the village had brought me little comfort but had turned my mind once more to pious thoughts, I decided I would never leave the wilderness again. I was already wondering if it would be possible for me to live without salt (which until now the pastor had always brought) and so do without mankind altogether?

Chapter 14
     

A curious comedy of five peasants
     
    So that I could carry out my decision and become a true anchorite, I put on the hair shirt my hermit had left me and girded myself with his chain. It was not that I needed them to mortify my recalcitrant flesh. I put it on so that I would be like my predecessor both in my way of life and in my dress; also this garment provided better protection against the harsh winter cold.
    On the second day after the village had been burnt and pillaged, as I was sitting in my hut praying and at the same time roasting carrots over the fire for my sustenance, I was surrounded by forty or fifty musketeers. Although astonished at my strange appearance, they ransacked my hut, looking for things that were not to be found there, for all I had was books, which they threw into a jumble since they had no use for them. At last, when they had a better look at me and could tell from my plumage what a poor fowl they had caught, they could easily work out what meagre pickings were to be had here. Then they expressed their astonishment at my hard life and greatly pitied my tender youth, especially the officer who commanded them. He bowed respectfully to me, at the same time asking me to show him and his men the way out of the forest, for they had been lost in it for some time now. I did not refuse, and led them to the nearest path to the village, since that was the only way I knew.
    Before we were out of the forest, however, we saw about ten peasants, some armed with firelocks, others busy burying something. The musketeers ran at them crying, ‘Stop! Stop!’ to which the peasants replied with their muskets. But when they saw they were outnumbered by the soldiers, they ran off quickly so that none of the tired musketeers could catch them. They therefore decided to dig up what the peasants had just buried, which was all the easier since the peasants had left their picks and shovels behind. Hardly had they started digging, however, than they heard a voice from below crying out, ‘You wanton rogues! You arch-villains! Do you think Heaven will leave your unchristian cruelty and knavery unpunished. No! There are still honest men enough alive who will take such vengeance on you for your brutality that none of your fellow men will ever lick your arses ever again.’ At this the soldiers looked at each other, not knowing what to do. Some thought they were hearing a ghost, I thought I was dreaming, but their officer told them not to be afraid and keep on digging. They soon uncovered a barrel and, breaking it open, found a fellow inside who had neither ears nor nose left, but was still alive despite that.
    As soon as he had recovered a little, and recognised some of the soldiers, he told them how, the previous day when men from his regiment were out foraging, the peasants had captured six of them. Only an hour ago they had made them stand one behind another and shot five of them dead. However, as he was at the back and the bullet had not reached him after going through the five bodies, they had cut off his nose and ears, though not before forcing him to lick – if the reader will forgive me for mentioning it – the arses of five of them. When he found himself thus mocked by these despicable, God-forsaken wretches, he heaped on them the foulest abuse he could think of. Even though they were going to spare his life, he told them exactly what he thought of them in the hope