Many of the saints I shut up in prison... and when they were put to
death, I cast my vote against them. And I punished them often... and
compelled them to blaspheme; and being exceedingly enraged
against them, I persecuted them even to foreign cities
Acts 26:10-11
It is night in Zurich on the 21st of January, 1525, and the snow
lies thick upon the ground. 1 A lone man, wrapped against the
bitter wind and keeping to the shadows, trudges along the street
known as Neustadt close by the Grossmunster. He stops, glances
furtively about him, then knocks gently upon a door, his breath
coming hoary in the frosty air. He rubs his numbed hands
together and stamps his feet in the snow. The door is opened a
mere crack. For a brief moment the shadowy snow is dimly
yellowed by the flickering light from within. The man kicks the
snow from his boots and steps quickly across the threshold. The
door is closed, the bolt shot home. The street falls dark and silent
once more – apart from the mournful moan of the freezing wind. |
