Straightening from the third bow, he stepped to one side and waved to the orchestra, motioning them to stand. Matthaüs looked at Isaac. They both shrugged. As they stood, the others followed. After a moment, Franz stepped back onto the podium, holding his hands up for quiet. It took some little while, as a couple of rowdy Italians were still shouting, but he finally achieved it.

  Before he could say anything, Odelia Seiler, Georg's little girl, jumped up from a seat in the royal area and trotted forward. Franz looked at her in bemusement. She stopped in front of the podium, gave a curtsey, then offered him a white rose from behind her back. Startled, he reached for it. When his fingers touched it, he began laughing. It was brass! Franz knew exactly who had put Odelia up to this . . . this was 'payback,' as the Grantvillers called it, for his offering Marla a brass rose at her concert in December.

  Odelia trotted back to her seat as he made a show of sniffing the flower, then tapped it with a fingernail. Chuckles sounded from the audience, most of whom were present when he started the joke. Finally, he set it aside.

  "We. . ." Franz extended his arms to include the entire symphony ". . . want to thank you very much for coming to this, the first concert of the Magdeburg Symphony Orchestra. These men have come together, many of them strangers to each other, with one goal: to perform the best music that can be found. They have worked very hard in the last three months. They, more than I, are deserving of your applause." He led the audience in another round of applause.

  Holding his hands up again, he received the desired quiet much quicker than before. "I realize that we have reached the end of the printed program, but we have a small surprise for you. Please, be seated."

  Stepping down from the podium again, Franz went over to the door to the hallway. Marla was waiting, eyes gleaming. Taking her by the hands, he asked, "Ready?"

  She squeezed back. "Ready."

  As they appeared hand in hand, the audience began clapping again. They stopped in front of the podium and bowed together. Franz stepped onto the podium and picked up the baton. Marla stepped a little to one side and turned slightly so she could see Franz. He looked at her; she nodded. Raising the baton, he began. After a short introduction, Marla poured out her voice.

  And did those feet in ancient time

  Walk upon Deutschland's mountains green?

  And was the holy Lamb of God

  On Deutschland's pleasant pastures seen?

  And did the countenance divine

  Shine forth upon our clouded hills?

  And was Jerusalem builded here

  Among those dark Satanic mills?

  Heinrich and Giacomo were struck by the power of the song, the power of the text, but even more so the power of Marla's voice. Andrea, on the other hand, simply smiled. He had known what was coming. The sheer beauty of Marla's singing was the perfect cap to the concert in his mind.

  The orchestra played an interluding instrumental verse. Marla opened her mouth again.

  Bring me my bow of burning gold,

  Bring me my arrows of desire!

  The tempo of the music slowed a little. Marla's performance became slightly more deliberate.

  Bring me my spear! Oh, clouds unfold!

  Her voice swelled and crested in the second part of the line.

  Bring me my chariot of fire.

  She held up her hand to the heavens. More than one person wouldn't have been surprised if she had been answered.

  I will not cease from mental fight,

  Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,

  Marla sang no louder, but the intensity grew.

  Till we have built Jerusalem

  In Deutschland's green and pleasant land!

  The orchestra played the final concluding chords. Franz was watching Marla, and they cut off together.

  Once more applause resounded within the room. Once more shouts of "Bravo! Brava!" were heard from some irrepressible Italians. Once more Franz and Marla joined hands and bowed, then separated and waved to the orchestra. Finally, they joined hands again and bowed one last time before leaving the room.

  * * *

  Once the applause died down and the patrons began to mill around, Franz and Marla quietly re-entered the room. They spent some time among the jubilant musicians. Franz congratulated everyone, gave them two days off, and told them to report to rehearsal on the following Thursday.

  Franz carried his white 'rose.' Accompanied by Isaac, Simon, and Matthaüs and his brothers, he and Marla began to mingle with the audience. Congratulations were showered on them from left and right. Franz's bemusement returned when he was asked to autograph programs. Isaac had a pencil in his pocket, which turned out to be very convenient.

  After a few minutes, they encountered Master Heinrich and Amber Higham, who were wearing bemused expressions of their own. Lucas Amsel was with them, and he was not only not bemused, he was so excited he was about to burst.

  "Matthaüs! Marcus! Johann! Simon! You will never guess what has just happened!" Without giving them a chance to even begin to guess, Lucas blurted out, "Princess Kristina just asked Master Heinrich if he would become the Kappellmeister for the court here in Magdeburg."

  Exclamations of surprise and joy sounded all around. Matthaüs turned to his master. "Did you accept, Master Heinrich?"

  "Well . . . um . . . actually, I asked them for a little time to think about it."

  Exclamations of surprise and "What?" sounded all around. Amber Higham said, "But he's going to accept it, aren't you, Heinrich?"

  Master Heinrich shrugged, but a small smile playing about the corners of his mouth told the truth.

  Franz and Marla congratulated him. They wandered on, Isaac in company, speaking to all and sundry, until suddenly Isaac stopped. "I do not believe it."

  They looked in the direction of his gaze. Don Francisco Nasi was approaching with three older people; two men and a woman. They wore the Jewish mark on their clothing.

  "Ah, good day to you, my friends." Don Francisco's voice was expansive. "A remarkable event, yes. Truly remarkable."

  Franz and Marla thanked him. All the while Isaac stood as still as a statue, staring at those who accompanied Don Francisco.

  The taller man, who had a truly impressive beard, stared back until he was forcefully nudged by the short woman who stood beside him. He looked at her, then looked back at Isaac. Finally, he spoke. "Yitzhak, is it well with you?"

  Isaac opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it, coughed, then squeezed out, "Yes."

  "Good, good." The older man nodded. "It is mostly good with us. It could be better, but it is good enough that I cannot complain." He fell silent, still nodding, only to receive another nudge from the woman. His look to her this time was a glare, which seemed to have absolutely no effect on her.

  Franz and Marla watched in fascination.

  The man spoke again. "Er . . . Yitzhak . . ." He hesitated, then finished in a rush. "Will you come home to us?"

  Isaac turned white, starting to waver. Franz reached out and grasped his elbow to steady him.

  The other man looked concerned. "Yitzhak, I have wronged you. I . . . was so certain that I was right in my plans for you. I was furious when you would not obey me. I was blind to see that I could not make you be anything other than what the Holy One, Blessed be He, had shaped you to be. I thought you were rebellious, and on that night . . . I was infuriated. I said words that no father should say to a son." The man, obviously Isaac's father, looked down at the ground, then back up with an earnest expression on his face. "As the greater fault was mine, I acknowledge that fault. I ask your pardon." He opened his arms. "Will you be restored to your family, my son?"

  Isaac was trembling under Franz's hand. Slowly, he moved forward. Then, with a sudden rush he fell into his father's arms. "Avi, Avi."

  His father folded his arms around Isaac in a fierce embrace, closed his eyes and bowed his head to lean against his son's, whispering softly to him. The woman, who must have been his mother, smiled a tender smile and rested a hand on Isaac's back. The other member of the group exchanged a smile of satisfaction with Don Francisco.

  After a moment, Isaac straightened and pulled away. "My friends, I would like you to meet my father, Rabbi Shlomo ben Moishe of Aschenhausen, my mother Rivka, and Joachim ben Eleazar, the president of our community. Father, these are my very good friends, Franz Sylwester and his wife Marla."

  "So," Rabbi Schlomo said. "You are musicians, yes?"

  "That's right, sir," Marla replied.

  The rabbi looked surprised at her response, but cleared his throat and continued. "Is my son a good musician?"

  "Absolutely, sir." Franz smiled. "One of the best."

  "Good, good." Rabbi Shlomo turned to Isaac. "But you should be the best, nu?"

  Isaac laughed. "Yes, Father. I will try harder."

  * * *

  Franz watched as another stranger approached. The young man had diffidently entered the room after the concert was over and hovered around, walking a few steps one way, then back. After talking to one of the ushers briefly, he had focused on Franz, once or twice starting toward him but then pulling back. Franz judged him to be about thirty, maybe a little younger. He was dressed reasonably well, but certainly not as a member of the Hoch-Adel. He was now obviously determined on talking to them, so Franz stopped and waited for him.

  "Good day, Herr Sylwester."

  "Good day."

  "I have heard of your offer for musicians, and I have come to find a place with them, if I may." The man stood straight, and looked Franz in the eye.

  "There are a few places left. Where are you from, and what do you play?" "Most recently from Schweinfurt, although I have played in several of the towns of Thuringia. As to instruments, I play all of the common stringed instruments with some level of skill, but my best is the king of instruments, the organ."

  He certainly seemed to not be burdened with false modesty. On the other hand, there was no air of braggadocio . . . he apparently was reciting what he considered to be fact. Franz could accept that.

  "And you are?"

  Now the stranger was flustered. "I am sorry; I have left my manners at home. You must think me very rude. My name is Bach, Johann Bach."

  Franz and Marla looked at each other, and smiled.

  NONFICTION:

  What's For Dinner: Typical Dishes From 1632.

  Written by Anette Pedersen

  The common dishes in 1632 were quite different from what most western people eat today, and the following article will try to show what would have been prepared and served in the household of a moderately prosperous craftsman—say a printer or a blacksmith—in central Germany. In other words, what an American in the 1632 universe is likely to encounter if staying with a prospective business partner. The largest part of the population—the farm-workers and poor farmers—would have eaten only those dishes served to the servants in the household, while the wealthiest merchants and nobility would have dined exclusively on the richest dishes, but by choosing a middle-class household it should be possible to show the widest possible range. Most of the recipes are direct translations from a contemporary cookery book by Anna Wecker, the wife of a doctor from Colmar in Alsace, with some added explanations and comments based on other sources. That few attempts have been made to tell the quantities of the various ingredients is according to the custom at the time.

  * * *

  A household like the one described above would most likely consist of :

  The craft master, in charge of the business,

  The wife, who oversaw the household, was responsible for everybody's food and health, and did most of the shopping,

  The children, who would have chores either in the business or in the house,

  An older relative or two, who would be expected to do however much they could of the mending, repairs and other light work,

  An unmarried or widowed sister or female cousin, who would share the housewife's work-load and probably be in charge of, for example, sewing, mending, washing and ironing all the linen and clothes of the household,

  Two or three journeymen, and one or two apprentices, all working in the business and living in the house,

  Two or three maids, to do the large amount of cleaning needed in a house with open fire-places and no modern cleaning tools or running water,

  A cook, to plan the logistics of the meals together with the housewife, and cook the ten to twenty dishes served every day,

  Two or three kitchen girls or boys, to do the scullery work, help the cook, and stir and turn food on the fireplace,

  One or two male servants, to do the heaviest work such as chopping firewood for all heating and cooking, and for carrying every drop of water needed for cleaning, cooking and bathing into the house from whatever well had water.

  All in all, this would be a household of 15-20 persons, most of whom were employees and all of whom worked hard.

  If the household was old-fashioned for its time, the meals would be served to everybody at the same big table, but with different dishes placed at the high end—for the family—and at the low end—for the servants. If the household was more modern, the meals would be served at two separate tables with the family eating first, and the leftovers being passed on to the servant's meals together with an extra pot of something cheap and filling like stew, porridge or gruel. In either case, it was possible that the kitchen staff ate separately from the other servants and had a bowl of stew, soup or porridge while cooking the other dishes, and then picked over any remains of the meals after clearing the tables.

  The two main meals in a 1632 household were served by placing the food on the table in sets or courses, each consisting of several dishes, but how many dishes per course and how many courses would vary with the status and prosperity of the household. For a household of the size here presented there would have been four to six dishes for the family in addition to the bread and beer. These dishes would all have been placed at the table at the same time or, if a second course was served, it would just have been some sweets, nuts and firm cheese. For the servants there would most likely be just a stew, or else porridge or gruel with a side-dish of boiled salted meat or herring in addition to the bread and beer.

  1632 was in the middle of a major change in food fashion. The medieval ideal food—often dark in color, sweetened and with as many spices, as much meat and as few vegetables as you could afford— was slowly being replaced by a new French style—often pale in color, and with few spices and as many of the newly developed Italian vegetables as you could afford. In the German manor houses this change would have taken place by 1632—unless the owner was very old-fashioned—but in a middle-class household the preference would have been for the old-style food, and something like braised lettuce or fried celery would be considered more of a novelty than a treat.

  * * *

  Beer and bread would have been served to everybody at all meals, but the family and guests would get strong beer and wheat or fine rye bread, while the servants would drink small beer and eat a coarser rye bread. These two major food items could be either bought or produced in the household, and how they were made has been described in other articles.

  In a household where every morsel of food wasn't automatically eaten, there would often be bread slices and beer left when the tables were cleared, and unless they—and other leftovers—were either donated to the poor or given to the servants to sell, they would be used as a kind of porridge.

  BEERBREAD

  Soak leftover bread in cold water overnight, drain off the excess liquid and press the bread through a sieve. Add enough beer to create a porridge consistency, and boil until thick and smooth. Serve with honey and cold cream or milk. Comment: If served in a wealthy household spices could be added.

  Beerbread was most common as a breakfast dish, but gruel and porridge made from barley, oat or dried peas formed the base of all the three daily meals. Porridge, in many households, would be all the servants would get to eat along with bread, beer and leftover meat dishes from the family's meal.

  BARLEY GRUEL

  Soak whole or cracked barley grain overnight in cold water. Rinse it in the morning and bring it to boil covered with fresh water until the water is reduced to half and the grains are tender. Comment: If this was also served to the family, washed raisins, honey, mace and white wine could be added.

  Before the potato became common, it was the winter-hardy kale, that kept the population healthy, and this—now all but forgotten—dish was the most common of all winter dishes.

 

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