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[...the up]roar original: "pitus," likely completing "strepitus" from the previous page was hushed, so that the quiet of the sick man might be cared for; he had spent the following nights in sleeplessness, though the first of these safely delivered him through sleep to the next light of day.
As this day dawned, even a small glimmer of hope for his recovery seemed to shine forth. Prayers and sacrifices referring to the Mass were offered by religious families religious orders or communities for the sick man, for whose improved health everyone’s vows burned with fervor. Doctor Ernest likely a local physician, unswayed by any prayers or promises, departed for home after assigning the necessary medicines to the patient; he judged, naturally, that it was in vain to strive against fate. This was especially so since old age is an incurable disease—though Lord Besold had maintained a vigorous life until his 61st year, subject to no ailments except for gout podagra: a painful form of arthritis, historically known as the "disease of kings" and associated with aging. Doctor Hoofer also, a man most excellent in medical theory, repeated his prognosis of the funeral that was soon to follow, unless heavenly causes should intervene.
But alas! How fate plays with men, even at the cost of life, and eludes their hopes! The patient, who had eaten nothing for four days and was refreshed only by sleep and drink—which was the very peak of the disease—once he had tasted a small morsel...