When, at length, I had to quit the city and took leave of the curiosity-dealer, he pressed my hand with heartfelt regret; and though the Signora Giustiniani, as she pocketed a tolerably thick bundle of paper money, looked at me with that kindly pity which a good woman is always ready to bestow on the inexperienced, especially when they are young, that, no doubt, was because the manuscript I had acquired bore such a dilapidated appearance.  The margins of the thick old Nuremberg paper were eaten into by mice and insects, in many places black patches like tinder dropped away from the yellow pages; indeed, many passages of the once clear writing had so utterly faded that I scarcely hoped to see them made legible again by the chemist’s art.  However, the contents of the document were so interesting and remarkable, so unique in relation to the time when it was written, that they irresistibly riveted my attention, and in studying them I turned half the night into day.  There were nine separate parts.  All, except the very last one, were in the same hand, and they seemed to have formed a single book before they were torn asunder.  The cover and title-page were lost, but at the head of the first page these words were written in large letters:  “The Book of my Life.”  Then followed a long passage in crude verse, very much to this effect.

       “What we behold with waking Eye
        Can, to our judgment, never lie,
        And what through Sense and Sight we gain. 
        Becometh part of Soul and Brain. 
        Look round the World in which you dwell
        Nor, Snail-like, live within your Shell;
        And if you see His World aright
        The Lord shall grant you double Sight. 
        For, though your Mind and Soul be small,
        If you but open them to all
        The great wide World, they will expand
        Those glorious Things to understand. 
        When Heart and Brain are great with Love
        Man is most like the Lord above. 
        Look up to Him with patient Eye
        Not on your own Infirmity. 
        In pious Trust yourself forget
        For others only toil and fret,
        Since all we do for fellow Men
        With right good Will, shall be our Gain. 
        What if the Folk should call you Fool
        Care not, but act by Virtue’s Rule,
        Contempt and Curses let them fling,
        God’s Blessing shields you from their Sting. 
        Grey is my Head but young my Heart;
        In Nuremberg, ere I depart,
        Children and Grandchildren, for you
        I write this Book, and it is true.”

Margery Schopper.

Below the verses the text of the narrative began with these words:  “In the yere of our Lord M/CCCC/lx/VI dyd I begynne to wrtre in thys lytel Boke thys storie of my lyf, as I haue lyued it.”

It was in her sixty-second year that the writer had first begun to note down her reminiscences.  This becomes clear as we go on, but it may be gathered from the first lines on the second page which begins thus: