Sir Hugh

fiction
edward w pritchard

He had spent a life of over-indulgence. In a time of modesty and propriety he lead a life of excess. His castle was always welcome to his friends, his kitchen contained the finest wines, most tantalizing foods, and he made every effort to entertain and delight his guests of which there were many. He usually had a half a dozen house guests and they were waited on by his staff and to some extent by himself, hand and foot. This continued well into his old age. Additionally, while he had always been very happy with his lifestyle it wasn't until his time remaining was short that he realized that he might have his priorities wrong. Like a bolt, he realized that he wanted to make one final contribution to the world and time was short.

Two important realizations had happened simultaneously. He was exposed to scholasticism, the urge to know everything on a certain subject or critical subject of question, and he realized he had been profligate with his time and he didn't have many years left to study and think and learn. He became interested in a particular subject and that subject became intriguing and came to occupy his attention and interest like his over-indulgences had once done.

Then began feverish learning and reading. He eliminated past bad habits as one would throw away an old coat and used every moment productively to learn, to grow, before his end. The most important thing became his book collection and conversations which he now devoted his life to. Each inquiry he made into the field of knowledge required books for research and over time his books became his friends and day to day they were the most important things in his life. The times in which he lived was one when books were unavailable and expensive so he valued and cherished his books highly and gladly spent what remained of his fortunes to find and preserve fine books.

While he was doing this the authorities from the church by chance began to investigate his past sexual excesses as part of the inquisition. His only request at his arrest was that he have his books. Unfortunately when his jailer went to get his books from his castle, they had also by chance, while gather up his collection of hundreds of fine expensive books, came upon a piece of pornography from his profligate past and he was denied any books from his library, The Pope who was a friend from earlier in his life, who like many others, who had enjoyed previously the hospitality of his castle, intervened to save his friend's life, but the best he could do under the circumstances, was to grant him an unusual concession. He could live but his books must be burned. In addition, he would not be allowed books again.

The man bargained could he have his books again for a few weeks in exchange for losing his life in one month, or so. He pleaded there were a few burning questions he must research and write on before his end, but the offer was refused. So the man could think but not read or write and his life would go on to its end but without the benefit of his "friends", his books. His past conquests, which had consumed his energy and elan vital slowly began to fade from his memory. After he died, and the Pope came to visit his friend's cell, his jailer had mentioned to the Pope, that the prisoner often scratched lists of philosophical problems in the dust of the floor of his cell and then would pace all night murmuring to himself.