The burning timbers fell in with a noise like thunder and the lofty arches of the naves crumbled beneath the shock of these giant trees when moved by six hundred men together.

Soon there was left nothing of the rich and extensive abbey but the cell of Johannes Talpa, which, by a marvellous chance, hung from the ruin of a smoking gable.

The old chronicler still kept writing.
This admirable intensity of thought may seem excessive in the case of an annalist who applies himself to relate the events of his own time.
However abstracted and detached we may be from surrounding things, we nevertheless resent their influence.

I have consulted the original manuscript of Johannes Talpa in the National Library, where it is preserved (Monumenta Peng., K.L6., 12390 four).

It is a parchment manuscript of 628 leaves.