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Vol.7, Ch.2, P.9

The Acadēmī̆a of Merkulov: the stage whereupon was played the parley for reconciliation, and as well, the storm whereinto Rolf was wrenched against his will—to fight; to survive his way out.

On its calmer days was it an institution storied and steeped in esteem, boasting the longest-lived traditions amongst the schools of the kingdom. Its many colleges veritably breathed history; and the lectitōrium at its east, with its steeple so tall and stately, was clothed in particular repute. O, what tears would be wept, were the people, princes and paupers alike, to learn of the fires unleashed upon it on this day, and withal of the grievous scars now gashed into its frames and façades.

But as for ancientry, it was not the lectitōrium and its steeple that were foremost. That distinction belonged instead to the grand college at Merkulov’s west end,