[The hopes for a scholarship are shattered.]
[ . . . ] My godfather remonstrated with me about learning the business, but when I carefully considered the matter that I should be an apprentice at 24 years of age, I did not like it, because I had too much pride for that. Therefore, I hoped for God’s help, leaving my fate entirely up to blind fortune.
One day, it was a Saturday, my father’s four journeymen invited me for a walk on Sunday morning; suspecting nothing bad, I did not imagine that the fox’s trap was set to catch me in it, so I went confidently with my four travelling companions to Erlenstege, a very unhappy place to me. Who would believe that parents could go about things in such a deceitful way, and that, considering I had acted so honestly toward everyone all of my life, they would trap me in such a contemptible manner? Without my knowledge, the table was set; we were served roast pigeons and baked fish, several bottles of wine as well. I was absolutely amazed, though I thought to myself, “when among wolves, better howl with the pack.” The whole thing went so far that wine made the heart jolly, and amidst this cheerfulness, I forgot myself, agreeing to use the familiar “du” over a drink and swearing that there was nothing I would rather do than become a maker of covers for God’s creatures, i.e. a tailor. Upon returning home, there was no mention of the occurrence at all and I went to bed. The next morning I got up with my new colleagues, and when my father came to the boutique, he asked me in a harsh tone what my business was there. I replied quite calmly, “you know quite well that I am abandoned by everyone and that I have no other choice but to take this step practically out of desperation.” “You can forget about that,” he replied, “what you feel inclined to do now is something you could have done two or three years ago, and I would have saved my money if you had.” (But this was merely pretence, for in circumstances of this nature one has to act in such a way, so that any suspicion ceases). [ . . . ] “Now then in God’s name, let it be this way, but I will tell you one thing, I will have none of the blame, for my will is not in it.” Thus, I went to my assigned place and entered a new career, during which nothing interesting occurred. I spent most of my time at home, for two reasons: first, I was ashamed before my former classmates, believing they would greet me with mockery when seeing me; and secondly, money was very tight [ . . . ].
In the year of our Lord 1762. In spring, my father got into a battle of words with several journeymen, and this went so far that they handed in their notices to him. They discussed departing from Nuremberg the following Sunday, with me offering to join them as a travel companion; so it was agreed upon and also fixed; on the next morning, I told my parents about the plan which they were unable to thwart [ . . . ].
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