When that Owlglass came forth into day from the cellar, the drawer, Lamprecht, did bethink him of the words which Owlglass spake, and he ran hastily for a police officer, and they pursued Owlglass, and in no long time took him in the street as he went forward. The officer seized him, and they examined our noble Master Owlglass, and found upon him the two cans, and of them one contained the wine of the which he had beguiled the drawer, and the other was empty. And, O and alas! that the pen of this chronicler should write so sad a thing of the virtuous Master Owlglass!—they held him for a thief, and took him first and carried him and cast him into the city prison, and there lay he. And then assembled the council of the town, and they conferred together touching the offence of Master Owlglass, and it was agreed amongst them that he had committed a grave crime, for the doing and enactment of which it was fitting that he should be hanged up until that he was dead. Yet did some aver that it was nought else but a subtle device and knavery, and that the drawer should have, with more care, avoided the over-reaching with the which he had been visited; so that, indeed, the fault, in so much as it touched Master Owlglass, was but an impudent action. But the many who, with great hatred, hated Master Owlglass, carried it that it was flat robbery, so with their voices outweighed the rest, and he was decreed to die.

And when the day came on the which he should be hanged up, there was a great assembly of people in the city, for my good masters (as in this town of ours in the which this book is imprinted and published), there are ever lying in wait evil and cruel persons who, if it so chance, that they themselves be not in fear of the gallows’ tree, will always hastily run and see another die the death they would not command should be done to their dogs. They came upon horses and on foot, and so great an uproar was there, that at last the council was greatly vexed that they had resolved to put him to death; for in good truth this deed was not sufficient to be worthy of the gallows. And some desired to look upon him to see how so marvellous a man would take his end. Others considered that he was a magician, and with the aid of evil demons would rescue and save himself, and of a truth did all hope that after some wise he would come off alive. But all this time, as he was led forth, remained Owlglass silent and still, and held his peace; and the multitude marvelled, for they thought he would have despaired greatly. And when that he was come unto the gallows’ tree, he opened his mouth and spake, and besought the town council that as he was a dying man, and one that would never again speak, that they would grant unto him one grace, and he would not ask them for his life, nor for money, nor for anything the which should cost them a penny; nay, but that by it he might, in good sooth, save them a sum, and the charges of the town being heavy, it would relieve them.

And then stood the council altogether, and marvelled what this might be; and they conferred together, and agreed that, indeed, they would grant him that he desired, if that it proved not against the things he had himself said unto them. Then spake Owlglass unto the town council, and said: “Indeed, it shall be manifest unto ye that it runneth not counter unto my words. It is but a little matter the which can easily be told unto ye, and give me now your hands, that it may be granted.” Thereat did they according to his words. Then said good Master Owlglass, the prisoner: “Noble and worshipful councillors of Lübeck! I have said unto ye, that for as much as ye have condemned me to death, I should truly suffer death as ye have decreed. But a grievous and heavy debt lieth upon the city, the which every man should strive to lighten according unto his means; and to do this will I also aid as best I may. This day have ye brought me out to be hanged up; but see ye the halter wherewith ye would hang me is a new one, and ye must be at charges therefor unto two crowns. Now, if I say unto ye that I will, an if ye give me a crown, go and fetch an old rope, and therewith hang myself, will ye make no little profit; for my good friend the hangman, will not be at the pains to hang me, and ye will save his fee, and all these men with the which ye guard me, may freely depart unto their homes. Therefore I pray ye that ye will give unto me the money, and at mine ease, when that I have nought else to do, will I hang myself, in good faith, with an old rope.” Then said the chief magistrate: “Of a truth the knave is right, and we would do well to let him do this as he saith.” And they granted his wish, and he departed thence; but in all his life was he never at his ease sufficient to fulfil his saying. But oft he meditated thereupon, intending to do it; yet the best intents are oft not to be discharged.