Article Review of "The Prosecutions at Bamberg" [1628].

Essay by tvovUniversity, Bachelor'sA, November 2005

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You hear a scream of pain and terror that could haunt the mind. That tingling in your fingers is now to the tips of your toes. Your hands feel wet, as though sweat were falling from them in the field where you worked your land. You can hardly breathe now. As if you were flying, you feel light as a feather. As if you were falling, you feel heavy as a rock. Up and down, you fly and drop, over, and over. There is a voice around you, begging, bargaining, perhaps even pleading. You can't quite put your finger on it, it sounds familiar, but who could it be? It is time to go home, yet you can not make the journey. It is dark, and quite hard to see around you. The voice is louder, and now almost threatening. You fall, and a door is closed behind you. The ground is cold and damp, but more you can not bear of this journey, you drift out of this conscious realm.

As you awaken with a fogged sense of reality, you glance around you. You reach down for some paper to scrawl down some notes. But your hands are unable to take grip of the pen. The fingers are cramped, impossible to move. A distinct pain surrounds the whole appendage; it begins to encompass your whole body. You can't help but look down at the tips of your fingers; the pain draws you to it. What you behold makes all clear however...Blood, blood all over. That scream you heard last night was of your own voice. That tingling was the immense pain of a thumbscrew driven into your fingers. The pain in your body surely is from the leg screws and strappado. Unbearable pain consumes the body and mind as...