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diff --git a/32046-0.txt b/32046-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8816a7b --- /dev/null +++ b/32046-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,23490 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales from the German, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + + +Title: Tales from the German + Comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors + +Author: Various + +Translator: John Oxenford + C. A. Feiling + +Release Date: April 18, 2010 [EBook #32046] +[Last Updated: March 20, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Al Haines, from scans obtained from Internet Archive. + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES FROM THE GERMAN *** + + + + +TALES + +FROM + +THE GERMAN, + + +COMPRISING + +SPECIMENS FROM THE MOST CELEBRATED AUTHORS. + + +TRANSLATED BY + +JOHN OXENFORD AND C. A. FEILING. + + + + +LONDON: + +CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186, STRAND. + +1844. + + + + +C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND. + + + + +TABLE OF CONTENTS. + + + INTRODUCTION + LIBUSSA. BY J. H. MUSÆUS. (J. O.) + THE CRIMINAL FROM LOST HONOUR. BY FRIEDRICH SCHILLER. (J. O.) + THE COLD HEART. BY WILHELM HAUFF. (C. A. F.) + THE WONDERS IN THE SPESSART. BY KARL IMMERMANN. (J. O.) + NOSE, THE DWARF. BY W. HAUFF. (C. A. F.) + AXEL. BY C. F. VAN DER VELDE. (C. A. F.) + THE SANDMAN. BY E. T. W. HOFFMANN. (J. O.) + MICHAEL KOHLHAAS. BY HEINRICH VON KLEIST. (J. O.) + THE KLAUSENBURG. BY LUDWIG TIECK. (C. A. F.) + THE MOON. BY JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. (J. O.) + THE ELEMENTARY SPIRIT. BY E. T. W. HOFFMANN. (J. O.) + ST. CECILIA; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC. BY H. VON KLEIST. (J. O.) + THE NEW PARIS. BY J. W. GOETHE. (J. O.) + ALI AND GULHYNDI. BY ADAM OEHLENSCHLAEGER. (C. A. F.) + ALAMONTADE. BY HEINRICH ZSCHOKKE. (C. A. F.) + THE JESUITS’ CHURCH IN G----. BY E. T. W. HOFFMANN. (J. O.) + THE SEVERED HAND. BY W. HAUFF. (C. A. F.) + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + +The object of the translators of the following tales was to present the +English public with a collection, which should combine effectiveness +with variety, and at the same time should contain specimens of the most +celebrated writers of prose fiction whom Germany has produced. The +names of the authors will, they think, be a sufficient guarantee that +they have not failed in this last respect, and if the reader finds +himself amused or interested by the series, they will have succeeded +entirely. + +It will be remembered that the collection is a collection of tales +only, and that it was absolutely necessary, according to the plan of +the book, that these tales should be numerous. Any thing like a +lengthened novel was therefore excluded, as it would have exceeded the +prescribed limits, or rendered impossible that variety which the +translators considered an essential of their work. That short tales, +from their very nature, cannot often promote any very high purpose, and +that amusement for a leisure hour is their principal purpose, the +translators are perfectly aware, admitting that their collection, +generally speaking, does not convey that amount of instruction in life +and thought, which might be obtained from more elaborate works, such +as, for example, the _Wilhelm Meister_ of Göthe. At the same time they +trust that Kleist’s _Michael Kohlhaas_, Zschokke’s _Alamontade_, +Schiller’s _Criminal from Lost Honour_[1] and even Hauff’s fanciful +_Cold Heart_, will be acceptable to those who look for something beyond +mere amusement, and that some readers will be found to appreciate the +psychological truth and profundity of Hoffmann’s tales beneath their +fantastic exterior. + +In their versions of the tales the translators have endeavoured, to the +utmost of their power, to be correct, preferring even hardness of +language to liberties with the original text. The initials in the +table of contents will show who was the translator of each particular +tale; but it must not be supposed that they worked so separately that +the printer and the binder have alone connected the results of their +labours. Every tale when finished by the translator was carefully +revised by his colleague. In those instances alone have the +translators deviated from the original, where they found passages and +phrases that they conceived would not accord with English notions of +propriety. That in such instances they have softened or omitted, needs +no apology.[2] + +It has been suggested to the translators that a notice of the authors +and the works themselves might, with advantage, be prefixed to the +collection. With this suggestion they have complied, trusting that the +limited space allowed will be a sufficient excuse for the very sketchy +nature of the biographies, if indeed the following notices are worthy +of that name. + + * * * * * + +Göthe and Schiller have attained that universal celebrity, that it +would be mere impertinence to say any thing about their lives in a +sketch like this. Those eminent promoters of German literature in this +country, Mr. T. Carlyle and Sir E. B. Lytton, have done all they could +to make the English public familiar with the life of Schiller, and a +tolerably full notice of his literary progress will be found in No. LX. +of the _Foreign Quarterly Review_. Those who can read German are +recommended to the elaborate life of Schiller by Dr. Hoffmeister, which +is a perfect treasury of information and criticism. The materials for +a biography of Göthe lie scattered through a vast quantity or +correspondence, reminiscences, conversations, and characteristics; but +a biography, such as the greatness of the subject requires, is still a +desideratum in German literature. + +The _New Paris_, by Göthe, which appears in this collection, is from +that delightful autobiography, to which the poet has given the name of +_Dichtung und Wahrheit_. The circumstances under which it is told are +sufficiently explained by the short introduction prefixed to it. +Schiller’s _Criminal from Lost Honour_ was written during what is +called the “second period” of his life, when after the completion of +_Don Carlos_ he had quitted dramatic writing for a time, and devoted +himself to the study of philosophy and history. The facts of the story +he had learned from his friend Abel at an early period. Hoffmeister’s +remarks on this story may be found interesting. + +“This misguided man, Wolf,” says Hoffmeister, “appears as a mournful +sacrifice to the law, which, from this example, should learn mercy. +The severity of law has, from a merely conventional offence, elicited a +grievous crime, and him, who sinned from thoughtlessness, and was +delivered to the care of justice, she has cast off as though he were +absolutely worthless. The progress in crime, which is gradually forced +upon the man by civil institutions, and his return to virtue, when vice +has completed her lesson, are developed and painted to our eyes with +extraordinary art. Every action is deduced from thoughts and motives; +and these, again, are deduced from states of mind, which necessarily +result from the reciprocal action which the soul of the man, and the +circumstances by which he was surrounded, had upon each other. +Everywhere do we find natural connexion; not a link in the chain is +wanting. This psychological novel, like a tragedy, awakens in the +reader not only pity, but terror. He feels that in the situation of +the unhappy man, he would not have been better himself. The writer +fulfils his purpose of plucking us down from our proud security. Man +is just as good or bad, we say to ourselves, as his external situation; +out external situation is the fate of all of us; and we see in the +history of a single individual a sketch of the common lot of man. +Moreover, this history of the ‘criminal’ is so remarkable in point of +style, that one always reads it with fresh interest. The language is +extremely simple, clear, and natural, and there is not a trace of the +wearisome, constantly occurring breaks, and the affected antitheses +that marked Schiller’s early style. Every thing shows that the author +moved in a clear, free element. In some portions he has been eminently +successful; as, for instance, in describing the poacher’s state of +mind, when he is about to point his gun, at his evil genius, Robert. +If, after all our praise, we have one particular to blame, it is this +circumstance, that the weakly and delicate ‘host of the Sun,’ who had +not as yet distinguished himself in the trade of thieving, should have +been unanimously chosen by the robbers for their leader, on his first +entrance into their cave. Although he was well known to them as a good +poacher, they might yet have reasonable doubts whether he was qualified +to be their captain.” + +Before quitting Göthe and Schiller, it is as well to state that Göthe +was born at Frankfort on the Maine, on the 28th of August, 1749, and +died at Weimar on the 22nd of March, 1832; and that Schiller was born +at Marbach, on the Neckar, on the 10th of November, 1759, and died at +Weimar on the 9th of May, 1805. + +Johann August Musäus, one of the most popular tale writers of Germany, +was born at Jena, in 1735. His father was a justice there, and was +soon afterwards removed to Eisenach, by an official appointment. Young +Musäus was educated by a relation named Weissenborn, who held the +situation of “General Superintendent” at Eisenach, and with whom he +lived from the age of nine to that of nineteen. He studied theology +for four years at Jena, and it is thought he might have succeeded as a +pastor had not the peasants of Eisenach refused to accept him, because +he had been convicted of the grievous crime of--dancing. In +consequence of this check to his theological career, he turned his +thoughts to literature, and made his first essay by a parody on +Richardson’s celebrated novel, called _Grandison the Second_, which +first appeared in 1760. In 1763 he was made Pagenhofmeister (governor +of the pages) at the court of Weimar, and some years afterwards +professor at the Gymnasium of that place. A considerable period +elapsed before he again appeared as an author, when he satirised +Lavater in a novel called the _Physiognomical Travels_. This had an +immense success, encouraged by which, he proceeded to collect materials +for his _Popular Tales of the Germans_. This collection he made in a +singular manner. Sometimes he would gather round him a crowd of old +women with their spinning-wheels and listen to their gossip, sometimes +he would hear the stories of children from the street. On one +occasion, his wife, returning from a visit, was surprised, as she +opened the room-door, by a cloud of tobacco smoke, through which she at +last discovered her husband sitting with an old soldier, who was +telling him all sorts of tales. On the stories collected by him thus +strangely, and afterwards narrated with great humour, though with +occasional vulgarity, the fame of Musäus chiefly depends. They were +written under the assumed name of Runkel, and were designed, according +to the author’s own statement, to put an end to the taste for +sentimentality. He began a new series of tales called _Ostrich +Feathers_, of which he only completed one volume. On the 28th of +October, 1787, he died of a polypus in the heart, and a handsome +monument was erected to him by an unknown hand. His _Popular Tales_ +were, at the request of his widow, re-edited after his death by the +celebrated Wieland, and this is the edition now current. The story of +_Libussa_, which is taken from the _Popular Tales_ is founded on the +Latin history of Bohemia, by Dubravius, and the work of Æneas Sylvius, +_De Boliemorum gestis et origine_. The fables which are uttered by the +personages will be found in Dubravius. + +The name of Jean Paul Friedrich Richter is almost as well known here as +that of Göthe and Schiller; but the eccentricity of his style, and the +quantity of local allusions with which he abounds, will probably for +ever prevent his works from being extensively read out of Germany. +Jean Paul was born at Wimsiedel, in the Baireuth territory, in the +early part of 1763, and died at Baireuth on the 14th of November, 1825. +He first wrote under the signature of “Jean Paul” only, this he +extended to “J. P. F. Halsus,” and it was to his _Quintus Fixlein_ +(1796), that he first affixed his real and entire name. In 1780 he +went to Leipzig, but this he soon abandoned and resided for some time +at Schwarzbach. He visited various cities where he was greatly +respected, and received the title of “Legationsrath” from the Duke of +Sachsen-Hildburghausen, with a pension, which was afterwards paid by +the King of Bavaria. His favourite residence was, however, his native +Baireuth. A complete edition of his works, which are very numerous, +was published at Berlin in 21 vols., small octavo, in the year 1840, +and another in 4 vols., royal octavo, has been published by Baudry of +Paris. The short tale of the _Moon_ will give the reader a slight +notion--only a slight one--of Jean Paul’s peculiarities. It is +prefixed in the original to _Quintus Fixlein_. An interesting paper on +Jean Paul will be found in Mr. Carlyle’s admirable _Miscellanies_. + +The fame of Ludwig Tieck as a writer of romances, and an enthusiastic +admirer of all that belongs to the romantic period of literature, is +almost as great in England as in Germany. In the history of the +“romantic” school, Tieck takes a most prominent position, being one of +the chief colleagues and most zealous partisans of the brothers +Schlegel. He was born at Berlin on the 31st of May, 1773, and even at +school displayed his talents for composition by the commencement of his +_Abdallah_. He studied at Halle, Göttingen, and Erlangen, and read +history and poetry, both ancient and modern, with great assiduity. In +1796, his novel, _William Lovell_, was published at Berlin. A journey +from Berlin to Jena made him acquainted with the Schlegels and +Hardenberg (Novalis), and at Weimar he became intimate with Herder. +His satirical dramas of _Blue Beard_ and _Puss in Boots_, displayed an +Aristophanic vein, and his works relating to art, began to attract +general attention. These were _The Outpourings from the Heart of an +Art-loving Cloister-brother_ (Berlin, 1797), the _Fantasies of Art_ +(Hamburg, 1799), and _Franz Sternbald’s Travels_ (Berlin, 1798), in all +of which his friend Wackenrode more or less took a part. Tieck +cultivated his taste for the fine arts by a residence in Dresden, +Munich, and Rome, and at Jena kept up his acquaintance with Schelling +and the Schlegels. In the years 1799-1801, he published his +translation of _Don Quixote_, and about the same period several works +of imagination. In 1801-2 he resided at Dresden, and edited, with A. +W. Schlegel, the _Musenalmanach_. For the diffusion of a taste for the +middle-age literature of Germany, Tieck made an important contribution +by his publication of a selection of the _Minnelieder_ from the Swabian +period, that is to say, the period of the German emperors during the +dynasty of the Hohenstauffen family, with an elaborate preface, in +which he called the attention of the Germans to their old poetry. In +1804 appeared his romantic drama of _The Emperor Octavian_, and in 1805 +he published, in connexion with T. Schlegel, the works of his deceased +friend Hardenberg (Novalis),[3] which may be classed among the most +extraordinary phenomena of modern literature. The preface to this +edition is entirely by Tieck. A long pause now ensued in the midst of +his literary productiveness, during which he visited Rome. In 1814 and +1816 appeared his _Old English Theatre_, consisting of translations +from our early drama, and in the same year he published the work to +which, more than to any other, he owes his celebrity in this country, +his _Phantasus_. The entire work has never been translated, but the +tales which are introduced into it, such as the _Blond Eckbert_ and the +_Trusty Eckart_, are generally known. Another contribution to the +study of the old German literature he made by his edition of Ulrich von +Lichtenstein’s _Frauendienst_ (service of ladies), a kind of romance, +by a celebrated Minnesänger, and a collection of plays under the title +of Old German Theatre. In 1818 he visited London, where he was +received with great respect, and employed his time in making +collections for the study of Shakspeare, in Schlegel’s translation of +whom he has taken an important part. Since 1821 he has chiefly been +engaged with a series of novels, which are widely different from his +former manner, and he is now (we believe) resident at Berlin. The +tales from the _Phantasus_ being already so generally known, one of a +totally different kind has been given in this volume. The powerful +tale of the _Klausenburg_ is from Tieck’s collected novels. + +Heinrich von Kleist, from whom two tales have been taken, is another +poet of the romantic school, and was born at Frankfort on the Oder, in +1777. He led an unsettled kind of life, residing successively at +Paris, Dresden, and Berlin, and after the battle of Jena, retired from +the latter city to Königsberg, where he devoted himself to literary +pursuits. Returning to Berlin during the French occupation of Prussia, +he was taken prisoner, and though he was shortly afterwards released, +this imprisonment seems to have had a fatal effect upon a temperament +naturally morbid. In 1811, at Potsdam, he voluntarily terminated his +own existence, and that of an invalid lady of his acquaintance. His +works, which are somewhat numerous, consist of dramas and tales, and +are all distinguished by a sort of rugged power. Of his plays, the +most celebrated is the romantic drama, _Käthchen von Heilbronn_, and of +his tales, the narrative of _Michael Kohlhaas_, contained in this +collection. A complete edition of his works was published at Berlin, +in 1821, by the indefatigable, Ludwig Tieck. The critical remarks +which he has made on _Kohlhaas_, may be extracted with profit. + +“_Michael Kohlhaas_,” says Tieck, “is unquestionably the most +remarkable of all Kleist’s narratives, and if we see with what firmness +he sketches the various forms, how faithfully the events and feelings +are deduced from each other, with what steadiness the narrator +advances, step by step, we are tempted to believe that this style is +more suitable to the author, and that his talents might have shone +forth more brilliantly here than in the drama. Here, as in his plays, +we see, as in the form of a law-suit, the misfortune and the guilt of a +remarkable man unfolded before his eyes. Few writers understand how to +shake our hearts to the very depth, like Kleist, and this is precisely +because he goes to work with so steady a purpose, and consciously +avoids all soft sentimentality. The insulted and injured Kohlhaas +becomes unhappy;--nay, becomes a criminal through his misery and his +keen sense of justice, until he is called back from his career by the +revered Luther, and by his means obtains a hearing for his suit, so +that he can stand boldly forward. It is only by chance without any +fault on his own part, that he finds at Dresden, that his position has +grown more unfavourable. It is unnecessary to call attention to the +masterly hand which has portrayed all the characters from the prince +and Luther, down to the humblest menial, in such living colours, that +we seem to behold the realities themselves. Whether it was by +intention or unconsciously, the writer has made important deviations +from history. This might be excused on account of his leading motive, +and the admirable freshness of his colouring; but he is more culpable +for his incorrectness in the necessary circumstances of an event, which +did not happen so very long ago,--circumstances which can scarcely +escape the recollection of the reader. Kleist forgets that Wittenberg, +not Dresden, was the residence of the Elector of Saxony. Moreover, he +describes Dresden just according to its present aspect. The old town, +(Altstadt) scarcely existed at the time, and what shall we say of the +elector himself, who appears as a romantic, amorous, eccentric, +fantastical personage, when certainly it must have been either +Frederick the Wise, or the Steadfast, who belonged to the period of the +narrative? By over haste--for it certainly was not from design--this +excellent story loses its proper costume and accompanying +circumstances, whereas it would have been far more effective had the +author allowed himself time to place himself in the period with greater +truth. Another consequence of this deficiency in true locality is, +that the author, after long alluring us by his truth and nature, leads +us through a fanciful visionary world, which will not accord with the +previous one, which he has taught us to know so accurately. That +wondrous gipsy, who afterwards turns out to be the deceased wife of +Kohlhaas, that mysterious inscription, those ghost-like forms, that +sick, half-mad, and, afterwards, disguised elector; those weak, for the +most part, characterless forms, which, nevertheless, come forward with +a pretension, as if they would be considered superior to the real world +previously described, as if they would sell as dearly as possible that +mysterious nature, which comes to us little as possible,--that horrible +foreboding which the author suddenly feels in the presence of the +creatures of his own fancy--all this, we say, reminds us so forcibly of +many a weak product of our times, and of the ordinary demands of the +reading public, that we are forced, mournfully, to admit that even +distinguished authors, like Kleist--who in other respects does not +participate in these diseases of his day--must pay their tribute to the +time that has produced them.” + +No literature can produce a more original writer, than Ernst Theodore +Amadeus Hoffmann, from whom the translators have not scrupled to take +three stories. Some have called Hoffmann an imitator of Jean Paul, but +the assertion seems to be made rather because both writers are of an +eccentric and irregular character, than because their eccentricities +and irregularities are similar. However wild may be the subjects of +Hoffmann, and however rambling his method of treating them, his style +is remarkably lucid; and while Jean Paul is one of the most difficult +authors for a foreigner to read, Hoffmann is comparatively easy. He +was born at Königsberg on the 24th of January, 1776, where he studied +law, and in 1800 became assessor of the government at Posen. In 1802 +he became a councillor of the government at Plock, and in 1803 went in +a similar capacity to Warsaw. His legal career was terminated by the +invasion of the French, in 1806, and he made use of his musical talents +to obtain a subsistence. In the autumn of 1808 he accepted the +invitation of Count Julius von Soden to go to a theatre at Bamberg, +where he was appointed musical director. The theatre soon closed, and +he was reduced to such distress that he was forced to part with his +last coat. He then occupied himself with musical instruction, and +contributed to the Leipzig _Musikalische Zeitung_. From 1813 to 1815 +he conducted the orchestra of a theatrical company, alternately in +Dresden and Leipzig, and in 1816 was appointed councillor of the royal +_Kammergericht_ in Berlin, where he died on the 24th of July, 1822. +Hoffmann had devoted himself to music from his earliest years, he +composed the music for an opera on the subject of Undine, played at the +Berlin theatre, and many of his writings have an immediate reference to +the feelings and fortunes of the musician. This is conspicuous in the +collection called, _Fantasia-pieces in Callot’s Manner_, which he +published in 1814, and which was followed by his _Devil’s Elixir_, +published in 1816. His works, consisting of narratives, are very +numerous, and were published at Berlin, in fifteen volumes, and by +Baudry, of Paris, in one volume, royal octavo. Among the most +conspicuous are the fantastic _Confessions of Tomcat Murr_, the +collection called the _Scrapions Brothers_, and _Master Flea_. Many of +Hoffmann’s stories have been translated into English, but they have not +been so successful here as in France, where, when the translations +appeared, they created a complete _furore_. Of the tales in this +collection, the _Sandman_, and the _Jesuits’ Church_, are from the +“night-pieces,” and the _Elementary Spirit_ is from Hoffmann’s “later +works.” In all these stories it will be observed that Hoffmann’s +purpose is to point out the ill-effect of a morbid desire after an +imaginary world, and a distaste for realities. Different as their +adventures are, there is a striking similarity in the characters of +Nathaniel, Victor, and the painter Berthold, and Hoffmann seems to be +exhibiting his own internal nature as the extreme of unhealthiness. +The same tone may be perceived in his other writings, and his obvious +reverence for the prosaic and common-place, as the antithesis to +himself, is remarkable. The story of the _Sandman_ had its origin in a +discussion which actually took place between La Motte Fouqué and some +friends, at which Hoffmann was present. Some of the party found fault +with the cold, mechanical deportment of a young lady of their +acquaintance, while La Motte Fouqué zealously defended her. Here +Hoffmann caught the notion of the automaton Olympia, and the arguments +used by Nathaniel are those that were really employed by La Motte +Fouqué. + +A writer of extraordinary fancy and invention, but working for a more +obvious purpose, and producing narratives more related in character to +popular legends, was Wilhelm Hauff, of whom likewise there are three +specimens in this volume. He was born on the 29th of November, 1809, +at Stuttgard, and in early life showed a great predilection for telling +childish narratives. Being designed for the theological profession, he +went to the University of Tübingen in 1820. Afterwards he became a +private teacher at Stuttgard, and began his literary career with the +_Almanach of Tales for the year_ 1826. This was followed by +_Contributions from Satan’s Memoirs_, and the _Man in the Moon_, the +latter of which was designed to satirise the popular writer Clauren. +Hauff’s historical romance of _Lichtenstein_ acquired great celebrity, +and the collection of tales called the _Caravan_, which have +contributed to this volume, are in the happiest vein. Hauff needs only +to be known to become popular in any country. His works, which are +somewhat numerous, although he died before he had completed his +twenty-sixth year (18th of November, 1827), were published in a +complete edition by the poet Gustav Schwab, in 1830. + +Adam Oehlenschläger appears as the head of the romantic party in +Denmark, though he is as well known to the Germans as the Danes, having +published his works in both languages. He was born near Copenhagen, on +the 14th of November, 1779, and passed his youth in the Castle +Friedrichsberg, where his father was castellan. He began to study law +in 1800, but soon quitted the study, and, at the cost of the +government, travelled through Germany, France, and Italy. He was then +appointed Professor of “Æsthetics” at the University of Copenhagen, +and, in 1816, took another journey through the countries above-named, +and visited Sweden in 1829, where he was received with enthusiasm, and +was made Doctor of Philosophy by the University of Lund. The dramatic +tale of _Aladdin_, published at Leipzig in 1808, first made him known +in Germany, and his fame has been maintained by a variety of +narratives, some founded on the legends of his own country; and a +number of dramas, of which his beautiful _Corregio_ is the most +celebrated. The tale of _Ali and Gulhyndi_, which appears in this +collection, is most striking for its felicitous resemblance of the +Oriental style of fiction. Oehlenschläger’s entire works were +published at Breslau, in eighteen volumes. + +Karl Immermann, who is exceedingly admired by a section of the German +literati, was born at Magdeburg, in 1796, and died at Düsseldorf in +1841. He was a precocious genius, having composed a drama and a +romance at the early age of sixteen. Joining the volunteers during the +war with France, he was present during the whole campaign in the +Netherlands, and was in France in 1815. He became, in 1827, counsellor +of the provincial court (Landgerichtsrath) at Düsseldorf. At this time +he entertained a notion of forming a national German theatre; but his +scheme proved a failure, notwithstanding he adopted all sorts of +decorative means to ensure success. His works, which are very +numerous, have been collected, and one of them, a mythical drama, +called _Merlin_, is placed by his admirers, with more enthusiasm than +judgment, by the side of Göthe’s _Faust_. The tale in this volume is +from his _Munchhausen_, a work of unequal merit, but displaying great +genius and originality. A very full account of it will be found in the +_Foreign Quarterly Review_, No. LXI. + +Franz Karl van der Velde, the author of _Axel_, was a popular author of +historical romances, born at Breslau in 1779. Passing through a +variety of judicial appointments, he died at Breslau in 1824. His +works, which were published at Dresden, in 1824, occupy twenty-five +volumes. + +Of all the modern writers of Germany, there is none more truly popular +than Johann Heinrich Daniel Zschokke, however doubtful it may be +whether his wonderful popularity be commensurate with his merit. He +was born at Magdeburg, in 1771; and, after the completion of his +juvenile education, travelled about with a company of strolling +players. Becoming reconciled with his relations, after this vagabond +life, he went to the University at Frankfort on the Oder, where he +studied in a desultory manner. After travelling through Germany, +Switzerland, and France, he settled in the Grisons, and took a most +active part in Swiss politics, to follow which would exceed the bounds +of a sketch of this sort. His _History of Switzerland_ is a standard +work; and his collection of tales, copious as it is, forms a vast +treasury of fiction for his admirers. The account which Zschokke +himself gives of his _Alamontade_, is added to that tale.[4] + + * * * * * + +Here closes this imperfect sketch. It is not intended to convey any +new information to those who are acquainted with German literature; but +it may, at least, be of use in conveying a few facts and dates to the +general English reader. + + +[1] The fact that Schiller’s “Ghost Seer” is so familiar in an English +garb, that it is almost an English novel, is a sufficient reason that +it does not appear in this collection. Almost the same may be said of +the more celebrated romance of La Motte Fouqué. + +[2] This has been especially the case with “Libussa,” which is often +indelicate in the original. An oversight in the translation of that +tale should, however, be corrected. The provincial word, “Imme,” +should be translated “Queen-bee,” not “ant.” Vide p. 14, line 5 from +the bottom. + +[3] An admirable paper on Novalis is in Mr. Carlyle’s _Miscellanies_. + +[4] To Zschokke is attributed the religious work _Stunden der Andacht_, +a judicious selection from which has been translated by Mr. Haas. + + + + +TALES FROM THE GERMAN. + + +LIBUSSA. + +BY J. H. MUSÆUS. + +Deep in the Bohemian forest, of which now only a shadow remains, dwelt +years ago, when it spread itself far and wide into the country, a +little spiritual people, aeriel, uncorporeal, and shunning the light. +They were of a finer nature than mankind, which is formed out of gross +clay, and were therefore imperceptible to the coarser sense; but to the +more refined they were half visible by moonlight, being well known to +the poets under the name of the Dryads, and to the old bards under the +name of the Elves. From time immemorial they had lived undisturbed +here, until the forest suddenly resounded with the tumult of war; Duke +Czech, of Hungary, crossed the mountains with his Slavonic hordes, to +seek a new dwelling-place in this spot. The beautiful inhabitants of +the aged oaks, of rocks, caves and grottoes, as well as those of the +reeds in ponds and marshes fled from the noise of weapons, and the +snorting of war-horses. Even for the mighty Erl-king the tumult was +too much, and he removed his court to the more remote deserts. One elf +alone could not resolve to quit her beloved oak, and when the wood was +hewn down in every direction to make the land arable, she alone had the +courage to defend her tree against the power of the new comers, and +chose its lofty top for her abode. + +Among the courtiers of the duke was a young squire, named Crocus, full +of courage and youthful fire, active, well made, and of noble stature. +To him was entrusted the care of his master’s horses, which he +sometimes drove out to feed in the forest. Often he rested under the +oak which the elf inhabited; she regarded the stranger with pleasure, +and when at night he slumbered by the root, she whispered pleasant +dreams into his ear, predicted to him in significant images the events +of the coming day; or if one of his horses had strayed in the +wilderness, and the keeper had lost all traces of him, and went to +sleep with heavy heart, he saw in his dream the marks of the concealed +path which led to the spot where the stray horse was feeding. + +The farther the new settlers spread the nearer did they approach the +dwelling of the elf, who by means of her faculty of divination foresaw +how soon the axe threatened her tree of life, and therefore resolved to +communicate her trouble to her friend. One moonlight summer’s evening +Crocus drove his herd later than usual into the fence, and hastened to +his usual couch beneath the tall oak. His road wound about a lake well +stored with fish, in the silver waves of which the golden crescent was +reflected in the shape of a glittering cone. Straight over this +shining part of the lake, on the opposite shore, he perceived in the +vicinity of the oak a female form, that seemed to be walking on the +cool bank. This apparition surprised the young warrior. “Whence,” he +thought to himself, “could this maiden come, so solitary in these +deserts, at the time of evening twilight?” But the adventure was of +such a nature, that to a young man it was more alluring than alarming +to search into the affair. He doubled his pace without losing sight of +the form which occupied his attention, and soon reached the place where +he had first perceived her, under the oak. It now seemed to him as if +what he saw was more of a shadow than a reality. He stood astounded, +and a cold shuddering came over him; but he heard a soft voice, which +whispered to him these words: “Come hither, dear stranger, and be not +afraid; I am no deceptive form, no delusive shadow; I am the elf of +this grove, the dweller in the oak, under the thick-leaved boughs of +which thou hast often slumbered; I lulled thee to sweet delightful +repose, foretold to thee what would befall thee, and if a mare or a +colt of thy herd had strayed, I told thee of the place where it was to +be found. Repay this favour by another service which I require of +thee. Be the protector of this tree, which has so often protected thee +against sun and rain, and prevent the murderous axe of thy brothers, +who are destroying the woods, from injuring this venerable trunk.” + +The young warrior, whose courage revived at this soft discourse, +answered thus: “Goddess or mortal, whichever thou art, ask of me +whatever thou pleasest, and if I can I will accomplish it. But I am +only a humble man among my people, the servant of my lord the duke. If +he says to me to-day or to-morrow, ‘feed your horses here, feed them +there,’ how shall I be able to protect thy tree in this remote wood? +But if thou commandest it I will leave the service of my prince, dwell +in the shadow of thine oak, and protect it as long as my life lasts.” +“Do so,” said the elf, “and thou wilt not repent of it.” Upon this she +vanished, and there was a rustling in the tree above, as if some loud +evening breeze had caught itself there, and was moving the leaves. +Crocus stood for awhile quite enchanted at the heavenly apparition +which had appeared to him. Such a delicate, truly feminine creature, +of such a slender form, and of such noble appearance he had never seen +among the stunted Slavonic girls. At last he stretched him upon the +soft moss, although sleep did not close his eyes; morning twilight +surprised him in a tumult of delicious sensations, which were to him as +strange and novel as the first beam of light to the newly opened eyes +of one who has been born blind. At the break of day he hastened to the +duke’s palace, asked for his dismissal, packed up his baggage, and +hastily started with his head filled with glowing fantasies and his +burden on his back, for his delightful retreat in the forest. + +During his absence, however, an artificer among the people, by trade a +miller, had pitched upon the sound straight trunk of the oak as an axle +for his mill-wheel, and went with his men to fell it. The trembling +elf sighed when the greedy saw began with its iron teeth to gnaw the +foundations of her dwelling. From the top of the tree she looked +anxiously around for her faithful protector; but her glance was unable +to discover him anywhere, and her consternation rendered the gift of +prophecy peculiar to her race so ineffective, that she no more ventured +to decipher her impending fate than the sons of Esculapius with their +boasted “prognosis” are able to tell when death will knock at their own +doors. + +However Crocus was on his way, and so near the scene of this mournful +catastrophe, that the noise of the creaking saw reached his ears. He +augured no good from this noise in the forest, and setting wings to his +feet beheld--horrible sight--the impending destruction of the tree he +had taken under his protection in his very presence. Like a madman he +flew upon the workmen with his spear and drawn sword, and frightened +them from their work; for they thought that a mountain demon was in +their presence and fled in great confusion. Fortunately the tree’s +wound was curable, and in a few summers the scar had disappeared. + +In the hours of rest in the evening, after the new-comer had selected a +spot for his future dwelling, had marked out the space to be hedged in +for a little garden, and had again considered in his mind the whole +plan of the hermitage in which he designed to pass his days, far +removed from human society, in the service of a shadowy friend, who +seemed to be totally unreal, the elf appeared to him on the banks of +the lake, and with graceful gestures thus accosted him: “Thanks, dear +stranger, that thou hast prevented the strong arms of thy brethren from +felling this tree, to which my life is attached; for know that mother +nature, who has endowed my race with such various powers and faculties, +has nevertheless united our life to the growth and duration of the +oaks. Through us does the queen of the forest raise her venerable head +above the rabble of other trees and shrubs; we promote the circulation +of the sap through trunk and branches, so that she gains strength to +combat with the whirlwind, and to defy for centuries the destroying +power of time. On the other hand, our life is knit to hers. When the +oak, to whom fate has assigned us as a partner, grows old, we grow old +with it, and when it dies, we die away also, and sleep like mortals, a +sleep of death, until by the eternal revolution of all things, chance +or some secret arrangement of nature unites our being to a new germ, +which opened by our vivifying power, sprouts up after a long time to a +mighty tree, and affords us the joys of life anew. From this thou +mayst perceive what a service thou hast rendered me by thy assistance, +and what gratitude is due to thee. Require of me the reward of thy +noble act, reveal to me the desire of thy heart, and it shall be +fulfilled at once.” + +Crocus was silent. The sight of the charming elf had made upon him +more impression than her discourse, of which he understood but little. +She perceived his confusion, and to extricate him from it took a dry +reed from the bank of the lake, broke it into three pieces, and said: +“Choose one of these three, or take one without choice. In the first +is fame and honour, in the second are riches and wise use of them, and +in the third happy love is contained for thee.” The young man cast his +eyes to the ground and answered: “Daughter of Heaven, if thou intendest +to grant the wish of my heart, know that it is not contained in the +three reeds which thou offerest; my heart seeks a still greater reward. +What is honour but the fuel of pride, what are riches but the root of +avarice, and what is love but the trap of passion, to ensnare the noble +liberty of the heart? Grant me my desire of resting beneath the shadow +of thy oak, from the fatigue of the campaign, and of hearing from thy +sweet mouth doctrines of wisdom, that thus I may decipher the future.” +“Thy wish,” replied the elf, “is great, but what thou deservest at my +hands is not less, and therefore let it be as thou hast requested. The +bandage before thy corporeal eyes shall vanish, that thou mayst behold +the secrets of hidden wisdom. With the enjoyment of the fruit take +also the shell, for the wise man is also held in honour. He alone is +rich, for he desires no more than he actually needs, and he tastes the +nectar of love without poisoning it with impure lips.” When she had +said this she again presented him the three pieces of reed, and +vanished. + +The young hermit prepared his bed of moss under the oak, highly +delighted at the reception which the elf had accorded him. Sleep +overcame him like an armed man, cheerful morning dreams danced round +his head, and nourished his fancy with the fragrance of happy +anticipations. As soon as he woke he joyously began his day’s work, +built himself a commodious hut, dug his garden, and planted roses and +lilies, and other sweetly-smelling flowers and vegetables, not without +cabbages and kitchen herbs, besides an assortment of fruit-trees. The +elf did not fail to pay him a visit in the twilight of every evening, +took pleasure in the produce of his industry, walked with him hand in +hand along the reedy bank of the pond, until the waving reed murmured +forth a melodious evening greeting to the friendly pair, when the +breeze rustled through it. The elf initiated her docile pupil into the +secrets of nature, instructed him in the origin and issue of things, +taught him their natural and magical qualities and virtues, and formed +the rough warrior to a thinker and a philosopher. + +In the same degree as the feelings and senses of the young man became +more refined by his intercourse with the fair shadow, the tender form +of the elf became denser, and acquired more consistency. Her bosom was +filled with animation and life, fire glistened from her hazel eyes, and +with the form of a young girl, she seemed also to have acquired the +feelings of one. In a few months the sighing Crocus was blessed with +the happiness which the third reed had promised him, and did not regret +that the freedom of his heart was ensnared by the trap of love. +Although the marriage of the tender pair took place without witnesses, +it was productive of as much happiness as the most obstreperous +nuptials, and in due time pledges of conjugal affection were not +wanting. The elf presented her husband with three daughters at one +birth, and the delighted father, in the first embrace, called her who +had cried in his house before the two others, Bela; the next Therba, +and the youngest Libussa. All were like genii in the beauty of their +form; and although they did not consist of such a delicate material as +their mother, their corporeal nature was finer than the coarse earthy +form of their father. They were also free from all the infirmities of +children, and needed no leading strings, for, after the first nine +days, they all ran like so many partridges. As they grew up, they +displayed all their mother’s talent for detecting hidden things, and +predicting the future. + +With the aid of time, Crocus also acquired much knowledge of these +mysteries. When the wolf had dispersed the cattle in the wood, and the +shepherds searched about for their lost sheep and oxen; when the +woodmen missed an adze or a hatchet, they sought advice from the wise +Crocus, who told them where to find what they had lost. If a bad +neighbour made away with any of the common property, broke at +night-time into the fold or dwelling of another, robbed him, or +murdered his host, and no one could guess who was the criminal, the +wise Crocus was always sought for counsel. He then summoned the +community to a grass-plot, made them form a circle, stepped into the +midst of it, and let the infallible sieve turn, which invariably +pointed out the malefactor. His fame was thus spread over all the land +of Bohemia, and whoever had an affair or any business of importance, +consulted the wise man as to its issue. Nay, cripples and sick persons +sought from him aid and recovery; even diseased cattle were brought to +him, and he knew how to cure ailing cows with his shadow, as well as +the renowned St. Martin, of Schierbach. The concourse of people that +sought him increased every day, just as if the tripod of the Delphic +Apollo had been removed to the Bohemian forest; and although Crocus, +without gain and reward, gave his information to those that questioned +him, and healed the sick and crippled, the treasure of his mysterious +wisdom proved very productive, and brought him great profit; for the +people pressed to him with their gifts, and quite overwhelmed him with +the proofs of their good-will. He first revealed the secret of washing +gold out of the sand of the Elbe, and received a tenth from all who +collected the gold sand. Thus his means and his wealth were increased; +he built strong castles and palaces, he kept large herds of cattle, he +possessed fertile lands, woods, and fields, and imperceptibly found +himself in the possession of all the wealth which the liberal elf had +prophetically enclosed for him, in the second piece of reed. + +One fine summer evening, when Crocus, with his attendants, was +returning from an excursion, where he had settled the boundary disputes +of two neighbouring congregations at their request, he perceived his +wife on the brink of the pond, where she had first appeared to him. +She beckoned to him with her hand, so he dismissed his retinue, and +hastened to embrace her. As usual, she received him with tender love, +but her heart was oppressed and mournful, while from her eyes trickled +ethereal tears, so fair and transient, that they were hastily absorbed +by the air, without reaching the earth. Crocus was astonished at the +sight, for he had never seen the eyes of his wife look otherwise than +cheerful, and with all the brilliancy of youthful joy. “What ails +thee, beloved of my heart?” said he; “my soul is torn by uneasy +forebodings. Tell me, what is the meaning of these tears?” The elf +sighed, leaned her head mournfully on his shoulder, and said: “Dear +husband, in thine absence I have read in the book of fate, that an +unhappy destiny threatens my tree of life; I must leave thee for ever. +Follow me to the castle, that I may bless my children, for from this +day you will never see me again.” “Oh, my beloved,” replied Crocus, +“banish these melancholy thoughts! What misfortune can threaten thy +tree? Are not its roots and trunk firmly fixed? Look at its healthy +branches, as, laden with fruit and leaves, they extend themselves, and +see how it raises its top to the clouds. As long as this arm moves, it +shall defend itself against every impious man who shall dare to injure +its trunk.”--“Weak is the protection,” replied she, “which a mortal arm +can afford! Ants can only contend with ants, gnats only with gnats, +and all the worms of the earth can merely guard off their like. What +can the strongest of you do against the operations of nature, or the +inscrutable decrees of fate? The kings of the earth can easily +overthrow the little mounds which you call your fortresses and castles, +but the slightest breeze scorns their power, rustles when its pleases, +and heeds not their command. Thou hast already defended this oak +against the might of man, but canst thou also resist the whirlwind, +when it arises to strip the leaves from its boughs; or if a concealed +worm gnawed at its core, could you draw it forth and crush it?” + +Discoursing thus, the affectionate pair entered the castle. The +slender maidens sprang joyfully towards them, as they were accustomed +to do on their mother’s evening visits, gave an account of their daily +occupation, brought their embroidery and needle-work as a proof of +their industry and skill; but, on this occasion, the hour of domestic +happiness was totally joyless. The girls soon perceived that the +traces of deep sorrow were imprinted on their father’s face, and saw +with sympathising grief their mother’s tears, without venturing to +inquire into the cause. Their mother gave them many wise instructions +and good admonitions; but her discourse was like the song of a swan, as +if she were about to take leave of the world. She remained with her +beloved family till the morning-star arose; she then embraced her +husband and children with melancholy tenderness, retired to her tree as +usual, at day-break, through a secret door, and left them all to the +most melancholy forebodings. + +Nature was in breathless silence as the sun rose; but his beaming head +was soon obscured by dark heavy clouds. It was a sultry day; the whole +atmosphere was electrical. Distant thunders rolled along over the +wood, and echo, with a hundred voices, repeated the fearful sound in +the winding valleys. At noon, a forked flash of lightning darted down +upon the oak, and shattered root and branches in one moment, with +resistless force, so that the fragments lay scattered far and wide in +the forest. When this was told to Crocus, he rent his clothes, and +went out with his daughters to mourn over his wife’s tree of life, and +to collect and preserve the splinters as precious relics. The elf was +no more to be seen from that day. + +After some years, the tender girls grew up, their virgin form bloomed +as a rose starting from the bud, and the fame of their beauty was +spread all over the country. The noblest youths among the people came +forward, and had all sorts of petitions to lay before Father Crocus, +and ask his advice. In truth this was but a pretext, that they might +ogle the lovely girls, as young fellows often feign some business with +the fathers, if they wish to coax the daughters. The three daughters +lived together in great ease and concord, little aware of their own +talents. The gift of prophecy was possessed by them all in equal +degree, and their discourses were oracles without their knowing it. +Soon, however, their vanity was excited by the voice of flattery, the +word-catchers snapped up every sound from their lips, the Seladons +interpreted every gesture, traced the slightest smile, watched the +glance of their eyes, drawing from them indications more or less +favourable, fancied they would thence gather their destinies, and from +that time it has been the custom among lovers to question the good or +bad star of love in the horoscope of the eyes. Scarcely had vanity +insinuated itself into the virgin heart, than pride was at the door +with all the rabble of his train,--self-love, self-praise, obstinacy, +selfishness, and all these stole in together. The elder sisters vied +with each other, to excel the younger in her arts, and secretly envied +her on account of her superior charms, for although all were very +beautiful, Libussa was the most beautiful of them all. The Lady Bela +particularly devoted herself to the study of herbs, as Lady Medea did +in the days of old. She knew their hidden virtues, and how to extract +from them efficacious poisons and antidotes, as well as to prepare from +them scents, pleasant and unpleasant, for the invincible powers. When +her censer smoked, she charmed down the spirits from the immeasurable +space of ether on the other side of the moon, and they became subject +to her, that with their fine organs they might inhale these sweet +perfumes, but when she flung the offensive scent into the censer, she +would have forced the Zihim and Ohim out of the desert. + +The Lady Therba was as ingenious as Circe in contriving magic spells of +all sorts, which had force enough to sway the elements, to raise storms +and whirlwinds, hail and tempest, to shake the very bowels of the +earth, or to lift it out of its very hinges. She made use of these +arts to terrify the people, that she might be honoured and feared as a +goddess, and knew better how to accommodate the weather to the wishes +and caprices of mankind, than wise nature herself. Two brothers +quarrelled because they never could agree in their wishes. One was a +husbandman, who always wished for rain that his seed might thrive. The +other was a potter, who always wished for sunshine, that he might dry +his earthen pots, which were destroyed by the rain. Because the +heavens never would satisfy them, they went one day with rich presents +to the house of the wise Crocus, and told their wishes to Therba. The +elf’s daughter smiled at the boisterous complaints of the brothers +against the beneficent arrangements of nature, and satisfied the wishes +of both, letting rain fall on the seed of the agriculturist, and +sunshine on the field of the potter. By their magic arts the two +sisters acquired great fame and vast wealth, for they never +communicated their gifts without reward; they built castles and villas +out of their treasures; they laid out fine pleasure gardens; they were +never weary of feasting and merry-making, and they jilted the suitors +who sought their love. + +Libussa had not the proud vain disposition of her sisters. Although +she possessed the same faculty of penetrating into the secrets of +nature and using her hidden virtues, she was satisfied with the share +of miraculous power she had inherited from her mother without carrying +it further, that she might make a profit of it. Her vanity did not go +beyond the consciousness of her own beauty; she did not thirst after +riches, and she did not, like her sisters, wish either to be feared or +honoured. When these kept up a constant bustle in their villas, +hurried from one exciting pleasure to another, and attached the flower +of the Bohemian knighthood to their triumphal car, she remained at home +in her father’s dwelling, managed the household affairs, gave council +to those who asked for it, kindly assisted the oppressed and +distressed,--and all from mere good will without any reward. Her +disposition was gentle and modest, her life chaste and virtuous such as +became a noble maiden. She was, to be sure, secretly pleased at the +victories which her beauty gained over the hearts of men, and she +received the sighs and cooing of pining adorers, as a fitting tribute +to her charms, but no one dared breathe to her a word of love, or +presume to solicit her heart. Yet the wag Cupid loves better than any +thing to exercise his rights with the coy, and will often throw his +burning torch on a low straw-thatched shed when he intends to fire a +lofty palace. + +An old knight, who had come into the land with an army of the +Czechites, had settled deep in the forest. He had made the wilderness +arable, and had laid out an estate, on which he intended to pass the +remainder of his days in peace, living on the produce of his fields. +However a powerful neighbour took possession of the property, and drove +out the knight, whom a hospitable countryman took in, giving him a +shelter in his own dwelling. The poor old man had a son, who was the +only prop and consolation of his age--a fine youth, who however +possessed nothing but a hunting spear, and a well practised fist to +support his father. The plunder by the unjust Nabal excited his +revenge, and he armed himself to repel force with force. The command +of the careful old man, who did not wish to expose the life of his son +to any danger, disarmed the noble youth, but afterwards he was +determined not to relinquish his original design. So his father called +him, and said, “Go, my son, to the wise Crocus, or to the wise virgins +his daughters, and ask them whether the gods approve of thine +enterprise, and will grant a favourable issue to it. If so, thou mayst +gird on thy sword, take thy spear in thy hand, and fight for thy +patrimony. If not, remain here till thou hast closed mine eyes, and +then do as seems right to thee.” + +The youth set out and first reached the palace of Bela, which had the +appearance of a temple, inhabited by a goddess. He knocked and desired +to be admitted, but the porter, as soon as he saw that the stranger +appeared with empty hands, dismissed him as a beggar, and closed the +door in his face. He proceeded sorrowfully, and came to the dwelling +of Therba, where he knocked and desired a hearing. The porter peeped +out of the window, and said, “If thou bearest gold in thy pocket so +that thou canst weigh it out to my mistress, she will give thee one of +her wise sayings that will tell thee thy fate. If not, go and gather +on the shore of the Elbe as much of it as the tree has leaves, the +sheaf has ears, and the bird has feathers, and then I will open this +door for thee.” The youth thus again deceived, departed quite out of +heart, especially when he learned that the prophet Crocus had gone to +Poland, to officiate as umpire between some Magnates, who could not +agree together. He expected no better reception from the third sister, +and when he saw her paternal forest-castle from a hill in the distance, +he did not venture to approach it, but concealed himself in a thick +bush to brood over his grief. He was soon roused from his gloomy +reflections by a noise like the tramp of horses’ feet. A flying roe +darted through the bushes followed by a beautiful huntress and her +attendants, all mounted on magnificent steeds. She hurled a javelin +which whizzed through the air without reaching the animal. The youth +who watched the scene, at once caught up his cross-bow, and from the +twanging string sent forth a winged arrow which darted at once through +the heart of the beast, so that it fell down on the spot. The lady, +surprised at this unexpected phenomena, looked round for the unknown +hunter, which, when the marksman perceived, he stepped forward and +bowed humbly to the ground. The Lady Libussa thought she had never +seen a handsomer man. At the very first glance his frame made upon her +so strong an impression that she could not help being involuntarily +prepossessed in his favour, and confessing he was of a noble figure. +“Tell me, dear stranger,” said she, “who are thou, and what chance has +conducted thee to these precincts?” The youth rightly surmised that +his good fortune had allowed him to find what he sought, so he modestly +communicated his wishes, not forgetting to say, how uncivilly he had +been dismissed from the doors of her sisters, and how much he had been +afflicted in consequence. She cheered his mind with kind words. +“Follow me to my dwelling,” said she, “I will question for thee the +book of fate, and to-morrow at sunrise I will give thee information.” + +The youth obeyed her orders: here there was no churlish porter to +prevent his entrance into the palace; here the lovely resident +exercised the law of hospitality most liberally towards him. He was +delighted with this favourable reception, but still more so with the +charms of his fair hostess. The enchanting form flitted before his +eyes all night, and he carefully guarded against the approach of sleep, +that the events of the past day which he reflected on with delight +might not leave his thoughts for a single moment. The Lady Libussa on +the other hand, enjoyed a gentle slumber, for retirement from the +impressions of the outward senses, which disturb the fine anticipations +of the future, is indispensable to the gift of prophecy. Nevertheless +the glowing fancy of the elf’s sleeping daughter united the form of the +young stranger to all the visionary forms that appeared to her in the +night. She found him where she did not seek him, and under such +circumstances that she could not understand how she should have any +relation to this stranger. When the fair prophetess, on waking early +in the morning, endeavoured as usual to separate and unravel the +visions of the night, she was disposed to reject them altogether as +illusions that had sprung from an aberration of fancy, and to give them +no more attention. But a dark feeling told her that the creation of +her fancy was not a mere empty dream, but that it pointed to certain +events, which the future would unfold, and that this same prophetic +fancy, had in the night just passed, overheard the secret counsels of +destiny better than ever, and had blabbed them out to her. In the same +way, she found that the guest now under her roof was violently inflamed +with ardent love, and her heart quite as unreservedly made her the same +confession with respect to him; but she set the seal of secrecy upon +the information, while the modest youth, on his side, had vowed that he +would impose silence on his tongue and on his eyes, that he might not +expose himself to contemptuous refusal: for the barrier which fortune +had set up between him and the daughter of Crocus seemed to him +insurmountable. + +Although the fair Libussa knew perfectly well what answer to give to +the young man’s question, she felt it very difficult to allow him to +depart so quickly. At sunrise she appointed a meeting with him in the +garden and said: “The veil of darkness still hangs before my eyes; to +know thy destiny wait till sunset.” In the evening she said: “Wait +till sunrise:” on the following morning “Wait throughout this day,” and +on the third, “Have patience till to-morrow.” At last, on the fourth +day, she dismissed him, because she had no pretext for detaining him +any longer, without discovering her secret, and with kind words she +gave him this information: “It is not the will of the gods that thou +shouldst contend with a mighty one in the land; endurance is the lot of +the weaker. Go to thy father: be the consolation of his age, and +support him with the labour of thy industrious hand. Take from my herd +two white bulls as a present, and take this rod to guide them. When it +blooms and bears fruit the spirit of prophecy will rest upon thee.” +The youth considered himself unworthy of the lovely maiden’s presents, +and blushed to accept a gift without being able to return it. With +lips void of eloquence, but with a demeanour so much the more eloquent, +he took a sorrowful farewell, and found tied up by the gate a couple of +white bulls, as plump and shining as the divine bull of old, upon whose +sleek back the virgin Europa swam through the blue waves. Joyfully he +unloosened them, and drove them gently along. The road here seemed but +a few yards in length, so completely was his soul occupied with the +thoughts of the fair Libussa, and as he felt he never could share her +love, he vowed he would, at any rate, never love another as long as he +lived. The old knight was delighted at his son’s return, and still +more delighted when he learned that the advice of the wise Crocus’s +daughter so perfectly accorded with his own wishes. The youth being +destined by the gods to follow the calling of a husbandman, did not +delay to yoke his white bulls to the plough. The first attempt +succeeded according to his wishes; the bulls were so strong and so +spirited, that in one day they turned up more land than twelve oxen +would commonly have managed. + +Duke Czech, who had conducted the first expedition of his people into +Bohemia, had died long ago, and his descendants inherited neither his +dignity nor his principality. The Magnates, to be sure, assembled +after his decease, to make a new election, but their savage, stormy +temperaments did not allow them to come to any rational decision. +Selfishness and arrogance turned the first state assembly of Bohemia +into a Polish diet;[1] too many hands seized the princely mantle at +once, so they tore it to pieces, and it belonged to nobody. The +government fell into a kind of anarchy; every one did as he pleased; +the strong oppressed the weak, the rich the poor, the great the little. +There was no longer any general security in the country, and +nevertheless these mad caps thought their new republic was admirably +constituted. “All” they cried “is in order; every thing goes its way +with us as everywhere else; the wolf eats the lamb, the kite eats the +pigeon, and the fox eats the fowl.” However, this mad constitution had +no stability; and after the intoxication of visionary freedom was +dissipated, and the people had again become sober, reason once more +asserted her rights, and the patriots, the honest citizens, and all in +fact in the country, who had any love for their father-land, took +counsel to destroy the present idol, the many-headed hydra, and to +unite the people again under a sovereign. “Let us,” they said, “choose +a prince who shall rule over us, according to the custom of our +fathers, who shall curb licentiousness, and administer justice and the +laws. Not the strongest, the bravest, nor the richest, but the wisest +shall be our duke!” The people being weary of the oppressions of the +petty tyrants, were on this occasion unanimous, and answered the +proposition with loud applause. A general assembly was appointed, and +the choice of all fell upon the wise Crocus. A deputation was sent to +invite him to take possession of his dignity, and although he was not +covetous of the distinguished honour, he did not delay to accord with +the wishes of the people. He was dressed in the purple, and he +proceeded with great pomp to Vizegrad, the princely residence, where +the people met him with loud rejoicings, and swore allegiance to him as +their sovereign. He now perceived that even the third slip of reed +offered him by the liberal elf had bestowed its gift upon him. + +His love of equity and his wise legislation extended his fame over all +the countries round. The Sarmatian princes, who used incessantly to +quarrel, brought their disputes from a great distance to his tribunal. +He weighed, with the infallible weight and measure of natural equity, +in the scales of justice, and when he opened his mouth, it was as if +the venerable Solon or the wise Solomon, between the twelve lions from +his throne, gave judgment. Once, when some rebels had conspired +against the peace of their country, and had set all the excitable +nation of Poles by the ears, he marched to Poland at the head of his +army, and suppressed the civil war. There likewise was he made duke by +a great part of the people, out of gratitude for the peace which he had +given them. He built there the city of Cracow, which still bears his +name, and has the right of crowning the Polish king to the present day. +Crocus reigned with great glory to the termination of his life. When +he perceived that his end was approaching, and that he should now leave +this world, he ordered to be made of the remains of the oak, which his +wife the elf had inhabited, a box to contain his bones. He then +departed in peace, wept over by his three daughters, who laid him in +the box, and buried him as he had commanded, while the whole country +mourned his loss. + +As soon as the funeral pomp had ended, the states assembled to consider +who should now occupy the vacant throne. The people were unanimous for +a daughter of Crocus, only they could not agree which of the three +sisters should be chosen. The Lady Bela had the fewest adherents, for +her heart was not good, and she often used her magic lantern to make +mischief. Nevertheless she had inspired the people with such fear, +that no one ventured to object to her for fear of rousing her +vengeance. When it came to the vote, all the electors were silent, +there was no voice for her and none against her. At sunset the +representatives broke up the meeting, and deferred the election to the +following day. Then the Lady Therba was proposed, but confidence in +her own magic spells had turned her head, she was proud, supercilious, +and wished to be viewed as a goddess; and if incense was not always +offered to her, she was peevish, wilful and ill-tempered, displaying +all those qualities which deprive the fair sex of their flattering +epithet. She was not so much feared as her elder sister, but then she +was not more beloved. For this reason the place of election was as +still as a funeral feast, and there was no voting. On the third day +the Lady Libussa was proposed. As soon as this name was uttered, a +familiar whispering was heard throughout the circle, the solemn faces +became unwrinkled and brightened up, and every one of the electors +could communicate to his neighbour some good quality of the lady. One +lauded her unassuming demeanour, another her modesty, the third her +wisdom, the fourth the infallibility of her predictions, the fifth her +disinterested conduct to all who asked counsel, the tenth her chastity, +ninety others her beauty, and the last her thriftiness. When a lover +sketches such a list of his mistress’s perfections, it is always a +matter of doubt whether she really possesses one of them, but the +public in its decisions does not easily err on the favourable side, +though it often does on the unfavourable one. By reason of qualities +so laudable, and so universally recognised, the Lady Libussa was +certainly the most powerful candidate for the throne, as far as the +hearts of the electors were concerned; nevertheless the preference of +the younger sisters to the elder one has so often, as experience +testifies, disturbed domestic peace, that it was to be feared, in a +more important affair, the peace of the country would be interrupted. +This consideration put the wise guardians of the people to such great +embarrassment, that they could not come to any decision at all. An +orator was wanted who should attach the weight of his eloquence to the +good will of the electors, if the affair was to make any progress, and +the good wishes of the electors were to have any effect. Such an +orator appeared as if called for. + +Wladomir, one of the Bohemian magnates, next in rank to the duke, had +long sighed for the charming Libussa, and had solicited her hand in the +lifetime of her father, Crocus. He was one of his most faithful +vassals, and was beloved by him as a son, and therefore had the good +father wished that love might unite the pair together. The coy mind of +the maiden was, however, invincible, and he would on no account force +her affections. Prince Wladomir did not allow himself to be scared by +this doubtful aspect of affairs, and fancied that by fidelity and +perseverance he might bear up against the lady’s hard disposition, and +render it pliable by tenderness. He had attached himself to the duke’s +train, as long as he lived, without advancing one step nearer to the +goal of his wishes. Now he thought he had found an opportunity of +opening her closed heart, by a meritorious act, and of gaining, from +magnanimous gratitude, what, it seemed, he could not obtain by love. +He ventured to expose himself to the hatred and revenge of the two +dreaded sisters, and to raise his beloved to the throne at the peril of +his life. Marking the wavering irresolution of the assembly, he took +up the discourse and said: “Brave knights and nobles of the people, I +will lay a simile before you, from which you may learn how to complete +this election to the advantage of your father-land.” Silence having +been commanded, he proceeded thus: “The bees had lost their queen, and +the whole hive was melancholy and joyless. They flew out idly and +sparingly, they had scarcely spirits for making honey, and their +pursuit and nourishment was on the decline. They therefore thought +seriously about a new sovereign who should preside over their affairs, +that all order and discipline might not be lost. The wasp then came +and said: ‘Make me your queen, I am strong and terrible, the stout +horse fears my sting, I can defy even your hereditary foe the lion, and +prick his mouth when he approaches your honey-tree. I will guard you +and protect you.’ This discourse was pleasing enough to the bees, but +after mature deliberation the wisest among them said: ‘Thou art +vigorous and terrible to be sure, but we dread that very sting which is +to defend us; therefore thou canst not be our queen.’ Then the humble +bee came up humming, and said: ‘Take me for your queen! Do you not +hear that the rustle of my wings announces rank and dignity? Besides, +I too have a sting to protect you.’ The bees answered, we are a +peaceful and quiet race; the proud noise of thy wings would annoy us +and disturb the pursuits of our industry; thou canst not be our queen.’ +Then the ant desired a hearing: ‘Although I am larger and stronger than +you,’ she said, ‘my superiority can never injure you, for see I am +entirely without the dangerous sting, I am of a gentle disposition, and +besides that, a friend of order, of frugality, know how to preside over +the honey-tree and to encourage labour.’ The bees then said: ‘Thou art +worthy to govern us--we will obey thee--be thou our queen!’” + +Wladomir paused. The whole assembly divined the purport of the +discourse, and the minds of all were favourably disposed towards the +Lady Libussa. Yet at the very moment when they were about to collect +the votes, a croaking raven flew over the place of election; this +unfavourable omen interrupted all further deliberation, and the +election was deferred to the following day. The Lady Bela had sent the +ill-omened bird to disturb the proceedings, for she knew well enough +the inclination of the voters, and Prince Wladomir had inspired her +with the bitterest hate. She held counsel with her sister Therba, and +they came to the determination that they would be revenged on the +common calumniator, who had insulted both of them, and despatched a +heavy nightmare, that should squeeze the soul out of his body. The +bold knight suspected nothing of this danger, but went, as was his +wont, to wait upon his mistress, and received from her the first kind +look, from which he promised himself a whole heaven of bliss. If any +thing could increase his delight, it was the present of a rose which +adorned the lady’s bosom, and which she gave him with the order that he +was to let it wither by his heart. To these words he gave an +interpretation very different from that which was meant, since no +science is more fallacious than the art of expounding in love. There +mistakes are quite at home. The enamoured knight was bent on keeping +the rose fresh and blooming as long as possible; he set it in fresh +water in a flower-pot, and went to sleep with the most flattering hopes. + +In the gloomy hour of midnight came the destroying angel, sent by the +Lady Bela. He glided in; he blew open, with his gasping breath, the +locks and bolts on the doors of the bed-room, and fell with immense +weight on the sleeping knight, pressing him down with such suffocating +force, that he thought, when he woke, a mill-stone had been rolled upon +his neck. In this painful situation, while he fancied the last moment +of his life was come, he fortunately thought of the rose which stood in +the flower-pot by his bed, pressed it to his heart, and said: “Fade +away with me, fair rose, and perish on my lifeless bosom, as a proof +that my last thought was bestowed on thy lovely possessor.” At once +his heart became lighter, the heavy nightmare could not resist the +magic power of the flower, his oppressive weight did not now exceed +that of so much down; the dislike of the perfume soon drove him out of +the chamber altogether, and the narcotic quality of the scent again +lulled the knight into a refreshing slumber. At sunrise he rose fresh +and cheerful, and rode to the place of election to ascertain what +impression his simile had made on the minds of the electors, and to +observe the course that the affair might take this time; intending, at +all events, if any opposing gale should arise, and threaten to run +aground the wavering boat of his hopes and wishes, at once to seize on +the helm and steer directly against it. + +This time, however, there was no danger. The solemn electoral senate +had during the night so thoroughly ruminated on, and digested +Wladomir’s parable, that it was actually infused into their very heart +and mind. A brisk knight, who perceived these favourable crises, and +who in affairs of the heart sympathised with the tender Wladomir, +endeavoured either to deprive the latter of the honour of placing the +lady on the Bohemian throne, or at any rate to share it with him. He +stepped forward, drew his sword, proclaimed with a loud voice, Libussa, +Duchess of Bohemia, and desired every one who had the same opinion to +draw the sword like him and defend his choice. At once several hundred +swords glittered on the place of election, a loud cry of joy announced +the new sovereign, and on all sides resounded the shout of the people: +“Let Libussa be our duchess!” A deputation was appointed, with Prince +Wladomir and the sword-drawer at the head of it, to announce to the +lady her elevation to the ducal rank. With the modest blush which +gives to female charms the highest expression of grace, she accepted +the sovereignty over the people, and every heart was subjugated by the +magic of her pleasing aspect. The people paid her homage with the +greatest delight, and although the two sisters envied her, and employed +their secret arts to avenge themselves both on her and their country, +for the slight that had been offered them, endeavouring by the leaven +of calumny and malicious interpretation of all their sister’s deeds and +actions, to bring about in the nation a shameful ferment, and to +undermine the peace and happiness of her mild virgin dominion; yet +Libussa knew how to meet these unsisterly attempts with prudence, and +to annihilate all the hostile plans and spells of the unnatural pair, +till at last they were tired of exercising upon her their inefficient +powers. + +The sighing Wladomir waited in the meanwhile with the most ardent +longing for the development of his fate. More than once he ventured to +foresee the end in the lovely eyes of his sovereign, but Libussa had +imposed a deep silence on the inclinations of her heart, and it is +always a precarious proceeding to require from a mistress a verbal +declaration without a previous intercourse with the eyes and their +significant glances. The one favourable sign which still kept his +hopes alive was the imperishable rose, which, though a year had +elapsed, blossomed as freshly now as on the evening when he received it +from the hand of the fair Libussa. A flower from a maiden’s hand, a +nosegay, a ribbon, or a lock of hair, is certainly more valuable than a +tooth dropped out, but nevertheless all these pretty things are but +doubtful pledges of love, unless some more certain expressions gives +them a determined signification. Wladomir, therefore quietly played +the part of a sighing swain in the court of his idol, and waited to see +what time and circumstances might produce in his favour. The +boisterous knight Mizisla, on the other hand, carried on his plan with +far more spirit, and did all he could to make himself conspicuous on +every occasion. On the day of homage he was the first vassal who made +the oath of allegiance to the new princess; he followed her as +inseparably as the moon follows the earth, that by unasked-for services +he might show his devotion to her person, and on solemn occasions and +in processions he made his sword flash in her eyes, that she might not +forget what good service it had done her. + +Nevertheless, following the way of the world, Libussa seemed very near +to have forgotten the furtherers of her good fortune; since, when an +obelisk once stands upright, we think no more of the levers and +instruments that raised it--at least so did the candidates for her +heart interpret the lady’s coldness. Both, however, were wrong; the +noble sovereign was neither insensible nor ungrateful; but her heart +was no more so completely in her power, that she could do with it +whatever she pleased. Love had already decided in favour of the slim +hunter. The first impression which the sight of him had made on her +heart was still so strong, that no second one could efface it. Three +years had passed, and the colours of imagination with which the +graceful youth had been sketched, were neither rubbed out, nor had they +become faint, and thus her love was proved to be perfect. For the love +of the fair sex is of such a nature and quality, that if it will stand +the test of three moons, it will generally last three times three, and +longer, according to the evidence and example of our own times. When +the heroic sons of Germany swam over distant seas, to fight out the +domestic squabble of the wilful daughter of Britannia with her mother +country, they tore themselves from the arms of their fair ones, with +mutual protestations of truth and fidelity; but before they had passed +the last buoy of the Weser, the greater part of them were forgotten by +their Chloes. The fickle damsels, tired of having their hearts +unoccupied, filled up the gap with new intrigues; but the faithful +ones, who had had constancy enough to endure the Weser ordeal, and who, +when the owners of their hearts were on the other side of the black +buoy, had been guilty of no infidelity--these, they say, have kept +their vow inviolate, until the return of their heroes into their German +father-land, and now merit from the hands of love the reward of their +constancy. + +It was therefore less remarkable, that, under the circumstances, the +Lady Libussa could refuse the hand of the blooming knights who +solicited her heart, than that the fair Queen of Ithaca let a whole +host of suitors sigh after her in vain, while her heart had only the +grey-bearded Ulysses in reserve. Nevertheless, rank and high birth so +very much overbalanced the attachment the lady felt for the beloved of +her heart, that any thing more than a Platonic passion--that empty +shade, which neither warms nor nourishes--was not to be hoped. +Although, in those remote times, people cared as little about writing +out genealogies, according to parchment and pedigree, as they did about +arranging classes of beetles according to their wings and feelers, or +flowers according to their stamens, pistils, calyx, and nectary, they +knew, nevertheless, that the delicious grape alone associates with the +stately elm, and not the weed that creeps along the hedge. A +_mésalliance_ caused by a difference of rank an inch wide, did not +then, certainly, excite so much pedantic noise as in our classic days; +but, however, a difference a yard wide, especially if rivals stood in +the interval, and perceived the distance of the two ends, was +observable enough. All this, and more than this, the lady maturely +weighed in her prudent mind, and therefore she did not give a hearing +to the deceitful prattler, passion, loud as it might speak to the +advantage of the youth, who was favoured by love. As a chaste vestal, +she made an irrevocable vow that she would keep her heart locked up in +virgin secresy for the period of her life, and that she would not +answer any address of her suitors, either with her eyes or with her +gestures; with the reserve, however, that she might platonise as much +as she pleased, by way of compensation. This monastic system pleased +the two aspirants so little, that they did not know what to make of the +killing coldness of their sovereign; jealousy, the companion of love, +whispered into their ear; one thought the other was his rival, and +their spirit of observation was unwearying, in trying to make +discoveries, which both of them dreaded. But the Lady Libussa, with +prudence and acuteness, weighed out her scanty favours to the two +honourable knights with such an equal balance, that neither scale +kicked the beam. + +Tired of waiting in vain, both the knights left their princess’s court, +and with secret discontent retired to the estates, which Duke Crocus +had granted them for military service. Both took home such a stock of +ill-humour, that Prince Wladomir was a perfect pest to all his vassals +and neighbours, while Prince Mizisla turned sportsman, chasing deer and +foxes over the fields and enclosures of his subjects, and often +treading three quarters of corn, when with his train he was following a +hare. This occasioned many complaints in the country; but, however, +there was no judge to remedy the evil, for no one likes to contend with +the stronger, and hence this way the oppression of the people never +reached the throne of the duchess. Nevertheless, through her +supernatural power, no act of injustice, within the wide boundaries of +her realm, remained hidden; and because her disposition corresponded to +the tender character of her lovely form, she was afflicted at the +wickedness of her vassals, and the wrongs committed by the strongest. +She consulted with herself as to how the evil could be remedied, and +prudence suggested that she should follow the example of the wise gods, +who, in administering justice, never punish the offender directly the +offence is committed; although slowly stepping vengeance is sure, +sooner or later, to strike at last. The young princess summoned all +the knighthood and states to a general diet, and caused it to be +publicly proclaimed, that whoever had a complaint to make, or a wrong +to denounce, might come forward freely and without fear, and should +have a safe conduct. Then the oppressed and harassed came from all +parts of the country; litigious folks came besides; in fact, all who +had some law affair in hand. Libussa sat on the throne, like the +goddess Themis, with sword and scales, and uttered justice with +unfailing judgment, and without respect of persons, for she was not led +astray, and the labyrinthian courses of chicane did not mislead her, as +they do the thick heads of stupid magistrates, while every body was +surprised at the wisdom with which she unravelled the tangled skein of +law-suits in affairs of meum and teum, and at the unwearied patience +with which she found out, and wound off, the hidden thread of justice, +without pulling a wrong end. + +When the throng of parties who had assembled at the bar of the tribunal +had gradually diminished, and the sittings were about to terminate--on +the very last court-day, a settler on the borders of the wealthy +Wladomir’s estate, and a deputation from the subjects of the sporting +Mizisla, desired a hearing, that they might bring in their complaint. +They were admitted, and the settler spoke first. “An industrious +planter,” said he, “enclosed a little piece of ground on the bank of a +broad river, the silver stream of which flowed, gently murmuring, into +the pleasant valley below; for he thought that the fair stream would +protect him on one side from the voracious animals that might devour +his crops, and also water the roots of his fruit-trees, that they might +soon ripen and grow up, and bear fruit plentifully. However, just as +his fruit began to get ripe, the deceitful river became troubled, its +quiet waters began to swell and roar, overwhelmed the bank, tore away +one piece of the fruitful field after another, and made for themselves +a bed in the middle of the cultured soil, to the great sorrow of the +poor planter, who was forced to give up his property, as a sport for +the malice of his powerful neighbour, whose raging flood he himself +escaped with difficulty. Mighty daughter of the wise Crocus, the poor +planter entreats thee to give orders to the haughty stream, that it may +cease to roll its proud waves over the field of the industrious +husbandman, that it may no more thus absorb the sweat of his brow, and +his hopes of a prosperous harvest, but quietly flow within the limits +of its own proper bed.” + +During this discourse, a cloud gathered on the serene brow of the fair +Libussa, a manly earnestness shone from her eyes, and those around +became all ear, that they might hear her decision, which was as +follows: “Thy cause is plain and right; no violence shall pervert its +justice. A firm dam shall set a proper limit and measure to the wild +stream, that it may not flow beyond; and I, with its fishes, will make +thee a seven-fold compensation for the depredation of its waters.” She +then made a sign for the eldest of the deputation to speak; and, +turning his head to the court, he said thus: “Wise daughter of the +renowned Crocus, tell us to whom belongs the seed of the field--to the +sower, who has buried it in the earth, that it may spring up and +multiply, or to the hurricane who hurls it down, and scatters it?”--“To +the sower,” she replied. “Then,” said the speaker, “give orders to the +hurricane, that it may not select our fields as the spot for its +wantonness, trample down our grain, and shake our fruit-trees.”-- + +“So be it,” said the duchess; “I will tame the hurricane, and banish it +from your fields. It shall fight with the clouds, and scatter them, +when they rise from the earth, threatening the land with hail and heavy +storms.” + +Prince Wladomir and the knight Mizisla were both present at the general +court. When they heard the complaint that had been made, and heard the +solemn sentence of the princess, they grew pale, and smothering their +wrath fixed their eyes upon the ground, not daring to own to themselves +how much they were galled at being condemned by the sentence from the +mouth of a woman. For although to shield their honour, the +complainants had modestly hung an allegoric veil over their accusation, +and even the just decision of the sovereign judge had shown a prudent +respect for this covering, the web was, notwithstanding, so fine and +transparent, that whoever had eyes could see what stood behind it. As +they did not venture to appeal from the throne of the princess to the +people, the judgment just given against them having caused general +exultation, they could only submit with it, although most unwillingly. +Wladomir made seven-fold reparation to his neighbour the settler, for +the injury that had been done, and Nimrod Mizisla was obliged to pledge +his knightly word that he would not select his subject’s corn fields as +a place for hare-hunting. At the same time Libussa gave them a +glorious employment, that they might exercise their activity, and +restore the tone of knightly virtue to their name, which now sounded +discordantly like a cracked vessel. She placed both at the head of her +army, which she sent out against Zornebock, prince of the Salians, a +giant, and moreover a powerful sorcerer, who was then about making war +against Bohemia, and imposed upon them as a penance, the condition that +they should not return to their court, until one brought the plume and +the other the golden spurs of the monster as a trophy of victory. + +The unfading rose still preserved its magic power during this +expedition, rendering Prince Wladomir as invulnerable to mortal +weapons, as Achilles the hero, and as nimble and active as Achilles the +swift-footed. The armies met on the northern border of the territory, +and the signal to fight was given. The Bohemian heroes flew through +the opposing forces like storm and whirlwind, and mowed down the thick +crop of lances, as the reaper’s sickle mows down a field of wheat. +Zornebock fell a victim to their mighty sword-cuts; they returned back +to Vizegrad in triumph with the booty they had acquired, and the spots +and soils which had before tainted their knightly virtue, they had +washed out in the blood of the enemy. The Duchess Libussa rewarded +them with all the distinctions of princely favour, dismissed them, when +the army was disbanded to their own residence, and as a new mark of her +esteem gave them a ruddy apple from her own garden for a keepsake, with +the instructions that they were to share it peaceably without cutting +it. They went their way, placed the apple on a shield, and had it +carried before them, while they consulted together how they should set +about making division with proper discretion, so that they might not be +mistaken in their gentle sovereign’s meaning. + +Before they reached the crossway that was to separate them, so that +each might follow the road that led to his own residence, they adhered +to the treaty of partition amicably enough, but now the point was who +should keep the apple, to which they both had equal right. Only one, +it was evident, could retain it, and both promised themselves such +wonders that each longed to possess it. Upon this they quarrelled, and +the sword nearly had to decide to whom the fortune of arms had assigned +the indivisible apple. A shepherd, however, happened to be driving his +flock along the same road, so they chose him for their umpire, and laid +their case before him, probably because the three celebrated goddesses +had applied to a shepherd to settle their affair about an apple. The +man reflected a little, and said, + +“In this present of an apple lies a deeply hidden signification; yet +who can probe it but the wise maiden who has there concealed it? I +suspect that the apple is a deceitful fruit, which grew upon the tree +of discord, and the red skin of which signifies bloody contentions +among you, knights,--that one shall irritate the other, and that +neither shall reap any joy from the gift. For tell me how is it +possible to share an apple without dividing it?” The two knights took +to heart the shepherd’s advice, which they thought contained great +wisdom. “Thou art right,” said they, “has not the base apple already +kindled anger and quarrel between us? Were we not on the point of +fighting for the deceptive gift of the proud maiden who hates us both? +Did she not place us at the head of her army, because she thought we +should be killed? And because that method did not succeed, she now +arms us with the knife of discord against each other. We declare +ourselves free from the deceitful gift; neither of us shall bear the +apple, but it shall be the reward of thy honest decision. The fruit of +the law-suit belongs to the judge, and the parings to the contending +parties.” + +The knights then went their way, while the shepherd devoured the +subject of the suit with that ease, which is peculiar to judges. The +duchess’s equivocal gift annoyed them greatly, and when on returning +home, they found that they could not lord it over their vassals and +subjects so arbitrarily as before, but were forced to obey the laws, +their indignation increased still more. They entered into an alliance +offensive and defensive, made for themselves a faction in the country, +and the numerous rebels who joined them they despatched to all the +districts around, that they might cry down female government. “Oh, +shame!” cried they, “that we are subject to a woman who gathers our +laurels that she may twine them round her distaff. A man ought to be +master of the house, not a woman,--that is man’s peculiar right,--that +is the custom among all people. What is an army without a duke to +march in front of his warriors, but a helpless trunk without a head? +Let us appoint a prince who may rule over us, and whom we may obey.” + +Discourses of this kind did not remain concealed from the vigilant +princess. She knew, besides, whence the wind came, and what the sound +of it signified; and, therefore, she called a select assembly of the +deputies, stepped into the midst of them with the dignity and splendour +of an earthly goddess, while her speech flowed like honey from her +virgin lips. “There is a rumour in the country,” said she to the +assembly, “that you desire a duke, who will lead you to battle, and +that you consider it inglorious to show further obedience to me. +Nevertheless, from your own free and unconfined desire, you chose from +the midst of you, not a man, but one of the daughters of the people, +and clothed her with the purple that she might rule over you according +to the usage and custom of the country. Now, whoever can convict me of +a fault in my government, let him come forward freely and openly and +bear witness against me. If, however, I have administered justice +after the manner of my father Crocus; if I have made the hills +straight, the crooked places even, the abysses passable; if I have +secured your harvests, rescued your herds from the wolf, and guarded +your fruit-trees; if I have bowed the stiff-neck of the violent, aided +the oppressed, and given a staff to support the weak, then, I say, it +becomes you to adhere to your promise, and, according to your oath of +fealty, to be faithful and true to me, and to do me good service. If +you think it inglorious to serve a woman, you should have considered +that before you appointed me to be your princess. If there was any +thing wrong in that choice, it reverts to yourselves. However, this +proceeding on your part shows that you do not understand your own +interest. The female hand is soft and gentle, accustomed to raise only +gentle breezes with the fan; but man’s arm is sinewy and rough, heavy +and oppressive, when he holds the weight of authority. Besides, do you +know, that when a woman rules, the sovereignty is still in the hand of +man? For she gives hearing to wise councillors; but when the distaff +excludes from the throne, there is female government; for the girls, +who please the king’s eyes, have possession of his heart. Reflect +well, then, on what you do, that you may not repent too late of your +fickleness.” + +The speaker from the throne was silent, a deep reverential silence +prevailed in the hall of assembly, and no one ventured to utter a word +against her. Nevertheless Prince Wladomir and his party did not +abandon their project, but whispered among themselves: “The cunning +chamois is striving not to leave the rich pasture; but the hunter’s +horn shall sound still louder, and scare it away.” The next day they +stirred up the body of knights, loudly to request the queen to choose a +husband within three days, and by the choice of her heart to give the +people a prince, who should share the government with her. At this +sudden demand, which seemed to be the voice of the people, a virgin +blush tinged the cheeks of the charming Libussa, and her bright eye saw +all the rocks beneath the water, that threatened her on this occasion. +Even if, according to the custom of the great world, she attempted to +bring her inclinations under the sway of policy, she could, at any +rate, only give her hand to one suitor, and then she saw that all the +rest would regard their rejection as an insult and meditate revenge. +Besides the secret vow of her heart was to her sacred and inviolable, +and therefore she prudently endeavoured to avoid the pressing request +of the deputies, and to make one attempt more to dissuade them +altogether from having a duke. “After the death of the eagle,” she +said, “the feathered tribe chose the wood-pigeon for their queen, and +all the birds were obedient to her soft cooing voice. Yet, being light +and airy, as is the nature of birds, they soon altered this resolution, +and began to repent. The haughty peacock thought that he was more +qualified to rule; the greedy hawk accustomed to chase the small birds +considered it disgraceful to be subject to a dove. They therefore made +for themselves a faction, and appointed the purblind owl as their +spokesman to propose a new election for a king. The dull bustard, the +unwieldy mountain-cock, the lazy stork, the lack-brain heron, and all +the larger birds chattered and cackled loud applause, and the host of +little birds from foolishness twittered, in the same manner, from hedge +and bush. Then the warlike kite rose boldly into the air, and all the +birds cried out, ‘What a majestic flight! What a lightning glance in +those rolling eyes of fire, what an expression of superiority in the +hooked beak, and the widely-grasping claws! The bold, hardy kite shall +be our ruler.’ Scarcely had the bird of prey ascended the throne, than +he displayed his activity and strength to his fellow-subjects with +great tyranny and arrogance. From the larger birds he plucked their +feathers, and the little singing birds he tore to pieces.” + +Plain as the meaning of this discourse was, it made but little +impression on the minds of those who were anxious for a change of +government, and the popular decision that the Lady Libussa should +choose a husband within three days, remained valid. At this Prince +Wladomir much rejoiced in his heart, for he now thought he should gain +the lovely prize for which he had so long striven in vain. Love and +ambition fired his wishes, and made eloquent his mouth, which had +hitherto only allowed itself secret sighs. He went to the court and +solicited a hearing of the duchess. “Gracious sovereign of thy people +and of my heart,” he said, “from thee no secret is concealed, thou +knowest the flames that glow in this bosom, as purely and holily as +those upon the altar of the gods, and thou knowest the celestial fire +that has kindled them. The time is at hand when thou must give a +prince to the land, at the bidding of thy people. Can’st thou slight a +heart which only lives and beats for thee? To be worthy of thee I have +ventured my life and blood in raising thee to the throne of thy father. +Let me have the merit of maintaining thee there by the tie of tender +love; let us share the possession of the throne and of thy heart. The +former shall be thine, the latter mine, and then will my happiness be +exalted above the lot of mortals.” The Lady Libussa deported herself +in a very maiden-like manner on hearing this address, and covered her +face with a veil that she might conceal the gentle blush that gave a +deeper colour to her cheek. With her hand she made a sign for Prince +Wladomir to withdraw, without opening her mouth, as if to consider how +she should answer him with respect to his suit. + +The bold knight Mizisla then announced himself and desired to be +admitted. “Loveliest of the daughters of princes,” he said, as he +entered the audience-chamber, “the beautiful dove, the queen of the +realms of air shall, as thou knowest, no more coo alone, but seek for +herself a mate. The proud peacock, as the story goes, makes his varied +feathers glitter in her eyes, and imagines that he will dazzle her with +their brilliancy, but she is modest and wise, and will not unite +herself to the haughty peacock. The greedy hawk, once a bird of prey, +has quite cast off his nature; he is good and gentle, nay without +guile, for he loves the fair dove, and hopes that she will espouse him. +His crooked beak and sharp claws should not mislead thee. These he +needs to protect his beloved dove, that no other bird may injure her or +endeavour to overthrow the seat of her dominion, for he is faithful and +true, and first vowed fealty to her on the day of her elevation. Tell +me then, wise princess, if the gentle dove will deign to bestow on her +faithful hawk the love to which he aspires?” + +The Lady Libussa did as before, made a sign for the knight also to +retire, and after she had let him wait awhile called in the two suitors +and said, “I owe you a debt of gratitude, noble knights, inasmuch as +you both assisted me in succeeding to the Bohemian crown, which my +father Crocus wore with glory. And I have not forgotten that zeal in +my cause, of which you remind me. Moreover, it is not hidden from me +that you virtuously love me, for your looks and actions have long +expressed the feelings of your hearts. That my heart has remained +closed to you, and has not given love for love, do not ascribe that to +mere coyness; I did not mean to insult you, but merely to come to a +right decision of a dubious matter. I weighed your merits, and the +index of the balance stood still. Therefore I resolved to leave the +decision of your fate to yourselves, and offered you the possession of +my heart by the enigmatical apple, that I might see who had the +greatest share of wisdom and intelligence, so as to appropriate to +himself the indivisible gift. Now tell me, without delay, in whose +hand is the apple. Whoever has gained it from the other, let him from +this hour take my throne and my heart for his prize.” The two suitors +looked upon each other with wonder, grew pale and were dumb. At last +Prince Wladomir after a long pause broke silence and said, “The enigmas +of the wise are to the foolish, a nut in a toothless mouth; a pearl +which the fowl rakes out of the sand, a light in the hand of the blind. +Therefore, oh, princess! be not angry that we knew neither how to use +nor how to prize thy gift. Thy design, which we did not know we +misinterpreted, and we thought thou hadst cast between us an apple of +discord, which should incite us to feuds and combat, and therefore each +of us abandoned participation in thy gift, and got rid of the fruit of +contention, a sole possession of which neither of us would have left to +the other.” + +“You have yourself uttered the judgment,” said the lady; “if an apple +was enough to arouse your jealousy, what battle would you have waged +for a myrtle wreath that encircles a crown.” With this decision she +dismissed the knights, who were greatly annoyed that they had listened +to the senseless arbitrator, and had thoughtlessly flung away the +pledge of love, that was to have gained them the bride. They now +considered, each one by himself, how they might yet carry out their +plans, and by force or cunning obtain the Bohemian throne with its +charming possessor. + +The Lady Libussa was not inactive during the three days that were left +her for deliberation, but was constantly considering how she might meet +the pressing wishes of her people, give the nation a duke, and herself +a husband, according to the choice of her heart. She feared that +Prince Wladomir would urge his pretensions with force, or at any rate +deprive her of the throne. Necessity assisted love, and inspired her +with the resolution of carrying out the plan, with which, as with a +pleasant dream, she had often amused herself; for, indeed, what mortal +is there, whose head is not haunted by some phantom or other, at which +he grasps in a vacant hour, that he may play with it as with a doll? +The gift of prophecy has always been associated with a glowing fancy; +consequently the fair Libussa readily listened at times to this +pleasant playmate, and the agreeable confidant always entertained her +with the image of the young hunter, who had made so permanent an +impression on her heart. A thousand projects came into her head, which +her imagination flattered her were easy and practicable. Now she had a +plan of rescuing the dear youth from obscurity, placing him in the +army, and advancing him from one post of honour to another; fancy would +then at once fling a wreath of laurel on his brow, and lead him crowned +with victory and glory to the throne, which she shared with him, +delighted. Now she gave the romance another turn; she armed her +favourite as a knight-errant out upon adventures, conducted him to her +court, turned him into a Huon of Bordeaux, and was in no want of +wonderful apparatus to endow him as friend Oberon did his protégé. But +when cool reflection again took possession of her maiden mind, and the +variegated figures of the magic lantern grew pale at the bright ray of +prudence, the lovely dream had vanished. She thought how great would +be the risk of such a proceeding, and what mischief might befal her +land and people, if jealousy and envy incited against her the hearts of +the Magnates, and the alarm of discord give the signal for rebellion. +She therefore carefully concealed the inclinations and wishes of her +heart from the keen eye of the observer, and allowed nothing to be +perceived. + +However, now the people were desirous for a prince, the affair had +taken another turn, and she had only to make her own wishes accord with +those of the nation. She fortified her courage with manly resolution, +and when the third day dawned she put on all her jewels, placing on her +head the chaste crown of myrtle. Attended by her maidens, who were all +adorned with wreaths of flowers, she ascended the throne full of high +courage and gentle dignity. The assembly of knights and vassals around +her was all ear, that it might catch from her lovely mouth the name of +the fortunate prince with whom she had resolved to share her heart and +throne. “Nobles of my people,” said she to the assembly, “the lot of +your destiny still lies untouched in the urn of concealment, and you +are still as free as my horses that feed in the meadow, before bridle +and bit have curbed them, and the weight of the rider and the burden of +the saddle have pressed their slender back. It now behoves you to tell +me, whether the time which you have granted me for the choice of a +husband has cooled the warm desire of seeing a prince ruling over you, +and prompted you quietly to examine your project, or whether you still +adhere unchangeably to your intention.” For a moment she was silent, +but the tumult among the people, the noise and whispering together with +the gestures of the assembled senators, did not leave her long in +uncertainty, and the speaker confirmed the ultimatum, that the decision +was left to the choice of her heart. “Well!” she said, “the lot is +cast; I answer for nothing. The gods have selected for the kingdom of +Bohemia a prince who will wield his sceptre with wisdom and justice. +The young cedar tree does not raise its head above the strong oaks; +concealed among the trees of the forest it grows, surrounded by ignoble +brushwood, but soon it will extend its branches so as to shade the +root, and its crown will touch the clouds. Nobles of the people, +select from among you a deputation of twelve honest men, to seek the +prince and accompany him to the throne. My horse shall show them the +path, trotting before you free and unburdened; and as a sign that you +have found that which you are sent out to seek, observe that the man +whom the gods have selected for your prince, will at the time when you +approach him, be taking his meal at an iron table, beneath the open +sky, and in the shadow of a lonely tree. To him must you pay homage, +and adorn him with the signs of princely dignity. The white horse will +allow him to mount his back, and bring him here to court that he may be +my husband and your sovereign.” + +She then dismissed the assembly with the cheerful, but bashful mien, +which is customary with brides when they expect the arrival of the +bridegroom. All were astonished at her speech, and the prophetic +spirit which peered from it rushed upon their minds like an utterance +of the gods, to which the mob blindly attaches belief, and about which +none but thinkers indulge in sapient opinions. The deputation was +appointed, and the white horse stood in readiness, bridled and adorned +with Asiatic magnificence, as if it was to bear the Grand Seignior to +the mosque. The cavalcade was soon in motion, amid the concourse of +curious people, who were shouting with joy, and the white horse proudly +led the way. Soon, however, the train disappeared from the eyes of the +spectators, and nothing was to be seen but a cloud of dust rising in +the distance, for the spirited horse as soon as he came into the open +country began to run as swiftly as a British racer, indeed so swiftly, +that the deputation had a difficulty in following him. Although the +rapid courser seemed left entirely to himself, an invisible power +directed his course, guided his bridle, and spurred his sides. The +Lady Libussa by the magic she had inherited from her mother, had been +able so to train the horse that he neither deviated to the right or the +left of his path, but with great speed hurried at once to his +destination, and now when all seemed arranged so as to fulfil her +wishes, she awaited with tender longing the arrival of the comer. + +The deputies in the meanwhile had had a fine chase; they had already +performed a journey of several miles, uphill and downhill, they had +swam through the Moldau and the Elbe, and because their stomachs +reminded them of meal-time, they thought again of the wondrous table, +at which their new prince, according to the words of the lady, was to +be seated. On this subject they made all sorts of remarks and +comments. One inconsiderate knight said to his fellows: “Methinks our +lady duchess has sent us to make April fools of us, for who ever heard +of a man in Bohemia that dined at an iron table. What do you lay that +our rash undertaking will bring us any thing besides jeering and +mockery?” But another, who was more intelligent, thought that the iron +table might have a symbolical meaning, and that they would perhaps meet +with some knight-errant reposing under a tree, after the fashion of the +wandering brotherhood, and serving up his frugal meal on his brazen +shield. A third said jestingly: + +“I fear that our way will take us straight down to the workshop of the +Cyclops, and that we shall have to take back to our Venus the lame +Vulcan or one of his mates, who makes a table of his anvil.” + +Discussing in this fashion they saw their leader, the white horse, +which had considerably the start of them, trot across a newly ploughed +field, and, to their surprise, stop by a ploughman. They flew at once +to the spot, and found a peasant sitting on a plough, which had been +turned upside down, beneath the shade of a wild pear tree, and eating +his black bread from an iron ploughshare, which he used as a table. He +seemed pleased with the beautiful horse, treated him kindly, and +offered him a bit of his meal, and which he eat out of his hand. The +ambassadors were very much astonished at this sight, but nevertheless +none of them doubted that they had found their man. They approached +him with reverence, and the eldest taking up the discourse said: + +“The Duchess of Bohemia has sent us to thee, and bids us announce to +thee that it is the will and decree of the gods that thou shalt +exchange that plough for the throne of this territory, and that goad +for the sceptre. She chooses thee for her husband, that with her thou +mayst rule over Bohemia.” + +The young peasant thought they were making game of him, which seemed to +him very _mal-à-propos_, especially as he thought they had fathomed the +secret of his heart, and were come to scoff at his weakness. He, +therefore, answered somewhat haughtily, in order to return scorn for +scorn: + +“Let us see whether your duchy is worthy of this plough? If the prince +cannot satisfy his hunger, drink more merrily, nor sleep more soundly +than the peasant, it is certainly not worth the trouble to change this +fruitful field for the land of Bohemia, or this smooth ox-goad for a +sceptre;--for tell me, will not a salt-cellar as well season my morsel +as a bushel?” + +Upon this one of the twelve remarked: “The mole shunning the light, +grovels for the worms under ground, that he may support himself, for he +has not eyes that can endure the beam of day, nor feet that are made to +run like those of the swift roe; the scaly crab crawls in the mud of +the lakes and marshes, loves best to dwell among the roots of the trees +and brushwood on the river side, for he lacks fins to swim; and the +domestic cock, kept in the poultry-yard, does not venture to fly over +the low wall, for he is too timid to trust himself to his wings, like +the up-soaring kite. Now if eyes are given for seeing, feet for +walking, fins for swimming, and wings for flying, thou wilt not grovel +in the earth like a mole, hide in the marsh like an unwieldy crab, or, +like the lord of poultry, be content to crow on a dunghill, but thou +wilt come forward into the light of day, run, swim, or fly to the +clouds, accordingly as nature has endowed thee with her gifts. For an +active man is not content with being what he is, but strives to become +what he can be. Therefore try to be that which the gods have appointed +thee, and then thou wilt be able to judge whether or not the land of +Bohemia is worth a field in exchange.” + +This serious discourse of the delegate, in which nothing of a jesting +nature was to be perceived, and still more the insignia of princely +dignity--the purple raiment, the staff of government, and the golden +sword, which the ambassadors produced as vouchers and testimonials of +their true mission--at last overcame the mistrust of the doubting +ploughman. At once his soul became enlightened; and the transporting +thought was awakened in him, that the Lady Libussa had divined the +feelings of his heart, had perceived his constancy and fidelity, by the +aid of her faculty to discover what was hidden, and had determined to +reward them in a manner which he would never have hoped for even in a +dream. The gift of prophecy promised to him by his oracle came again +into his mind, and he reflected that this promise must be accomplished +now or never. He quickly seized his hazel staff, set it deep in the +field, heaped loose earth about it, as one does when one plants trees, +and behold, the staff was immediately decked with buds, and shot forth +sprouts and branches covered with leaves and flowers. Two of the +verdant boughs faded, and their dry foliage became a sport for the +winds, but the third grew with so much the greater strength, and its +fruits ripened. The spirit of prophecy then descended on the rapt +ploughman, and, opening his lips, he spoke thus: + +“Messengers of the Princess Libussa and of the Bohemian people, hear +the words of Premislas, the son of Mnatha, the honourable knight, to +whom, touched by the spirit of prophecy, the clouds of the future are +opened. You call upon the man who was guiding his plough to take the +management of your principality before his daily work is finished. Ah, +would that the plough had surrounded the field with its furrows as far +as the boundary stone, for then Bohemia would have been an independent +land for ever! Now that you have too soon disturbed the work of the +ploughman, the boundaries of your land will be the portion and +inheritance of a neighbour, and your remote posterity will cleave to +him in indissoluble union. The three branches of the verdant staff +promise your princess three sons. Two of them will fade away as +immature shoots, but the third will inherit the throne, and through him +will the fruit of later descendants be ripened, until the eagle shall +fly over the mountains and nestle in the land, and then fly away to +return as unto his own possession. If then the son of the gods[2] +shall come forth, who is a friend to the ploughman, and frees him from +his slavish chains--then mark him, posterity, for thou wilt have cause +to bless thy fate. He, when he has trodden under foot the serpent of +superstition, will stretch out his hand towards the increasing moon to +pluck it from the heavens, that he himself may illumine the world as a +beneficent star.” + +The venerable deputation stood in silent reverence, staring at the +prophet like so many dunces; it seemed as though a god was speaking in +him. But he turned away from the deputies to the companions of his +wearisome toil--the two white oxen, loosened them from the yoke, and +set them at liberty, upon which they bounded merrily about the grassy +field, then visibly faded away, as light clouds melt into air, and +finally vanished completely. Premislas now took off his rustic wooden +shoes, and went to wash himself in the neighbouring brook. Costly +garments were put on him, he girded himself with the sword in knightly +fashion, and had the golden spurs fastened. He then sprang upon the +white horse which allowed him to mount with docility. As he was just +on the point of quitting the estate he had hitherto possessed, he told +the deputies to carry after him the wooden shoes, which he had now put +off, and preserve them as a testimony that the humblest of the people +had once been raised to the highest rank in Bohemia, and as a _memento_ +that he and his posterity might not presume upon the rank he had +acquired, but, mindful of their origin, might honour and protect the +peasant class from which they had sprung. Hence arose the old custom +of exhibiting to the kings of Bohemia a pair of shoes on the day of +their coronation--a custom which was observed until the race of +Premislas became extinct. The hazel itself, which had been planted, +grew and bore fruit, spreading its roots widely around, and sending +forth new shoots until at last the whole field was turned into a wood +of hazel trees, which proved most advantageous to the neighbouring +village in whose land this district was included. For, in +commemoration of this wonderful planting, the kings of Bohemia granted +a charter to this community, that they should never be obliged to +contribute more in the way of taxes than one pint of hazel-nuts. This +important privilege, according to report, their descendants enjoy to +the present day. + +Although the horse, which now bore the bridegroom to his fair owner, +seemed to outstrip the winds, Premislas made him sometimes feel the +golden spurs to accelerate him still more. The speed of the courser, +swift as it was, did not appear to him more so than the pace of a +tortoise, so anxious was he to look once more on the face of the fair +Libussa, whose form, though seven years had elapsed, still floated +before him fresh and charming. He now looked forward, not to gaze +vainly upon her, as upon a rare anemone in the varied garden of a +florist, but to a happy union of victorious love. He thought only of +the myrtle crown, which, in the estimation of lovers, stands far above +the crown of kings, and if he had weighed dignity and love one against +the other, the land of Bohemia without the Lady Libussa would have +kicked the beam like a clipped ducat in a money-changer’s balance. + +The sun was just setting when the new prince was led in triumph into +Vizegrad. The Lady Libussa was in her garden, where she had filled a +little basket with ripe plums, when the arrival of her future husband +was announced. She approached modestly with all the maidens of her +court, received him as a bridegroom bestowed upon her by the gods, and +concealed the choice of her heart by an apparent resignation to the +will of the invisible powers. The eyes of all the court were directed +with great curiosity towards the newcomer, but they saw nothing in him +more than a handsome slender young man. As for his external appearance +there were several courtiers who could vie with him in their thoughts, +and who could not understand why the gods had despised the anti-chamber +and had not rather selected from themselves a rosy-cheeked champion +instead of the sun-burnt ploughman, as a husband and partner in +dominion for the young princess. With Prince Wladomir and the knight +Mizisla it was especially obvious that they gave up their claims +unwillingly. Hence it was now the care of the princess to justify the +work of the gods, and to declare that Squire Premislas made amends for +his deficiency on the score of brilliant extraction by his intellect +and acuteness. She had caused a noble meal to be prepared, not in the +least inferior to that with which the hospitable Queen Dido formerly +entertained the pious Eneas. After the cup of welcome had passed +readily from mouth to mouth, the gifts of the joy-bestirring Bacchus +had inspired cheerfulness and good humour, and part of the night had +already past in jest and pastime, she suggested a game at riddles, and +because the divination of things concealed was her peculiar forte, she +resolved the riddles that were proposed to the satisfaction of all +present. + +When it was her turn to propose, she called Prince Wladomir, the Knight +Mizisla, and Squire Premislas to her, and said: “Now, my friends, set +about solving a riddle, which I will propose, that it may be apparent +which is the wisest and cleverest among you. I have destined for each +of you, out of this basket, a gift of the plums, which I have picked in +my garden. One of you shall have half of them and one more, the second +shall again have half and one more, and the third shall again have half +and three more. Supposing now that the basket is thus emptied, tell me +how many plums are in it now.” + +The hasty knight, Mizisla, measured the fruit-basket with his eyes--not +the sense of the problem with his understanding--and said: “That which +can be solved by the sword I will solve readily, but thy riddles, +gracious princess, are rather too subtle for me. Nevertheless, in +accordance with thy wishes, I will make a venture at random. I guess +that if the plums be well counted, they will be found to amount to +three score.” + +“Thou hast made a mistake, dear knight,” answered the Lady Libussa. +“If there were as many more, half as many more, and a third as many +more, as the basket contains now and five more added to that, the +number would by so much exceed three score as it is now short of it.” + +Prince Wladomir calculated slowly and laboriously, as if the post of +general controller of the finances were the reward for solving the +riddle, and at last gave out five-and-forty as the value of the +renowned number. The lady then said: + +“If there were a third as many more, half as many more, and a sixth as +many more as there are now, there would then be in my basket as much +more than forty-five as there now are under that number.” + +Although the very commonest hand at figures, would have deciphered the +problem without trouble; nevertheless, for a bad calculation the gift +of divination is absolutely indispensable, if he would come off with +honour, and not appear ridiculous. Now as this gift had been +fortunately communicated to the wise Premislas, it cost him neither +ingenuity nor exertion to discover the solution of the riddle. + +“Intimate associate of the heavenly powers,” he said, “whoever +undertakes to discover thy high-soaring and divine meaning, ventures to +fly after the eagle, when he hides himself in the clouds. +Nevertheless, I will follow thy secret flight as far as the eye, which +is illumined by thee, can reach. I decide that the plums thou hast +concealed in the basket are thirty in number,--neither more nor less.” + +The lady looked at him kindly and said; “Thou hast traced the +glimmering spark that lies deep in the ashes, and light gleams upon +thee out of mist and darkness; thou hast guessed my riddle.” + +She then opened the basket, counted out fifteen plums into Prince +Wladomir’s hat with one more, and there remained fourteen. Of these +she gave seven to the Knight Mizisla with one more, and six remained in +the basket. The half of these she awarded to the wise Premislas, then +gave him the three others, and the basket was empty. The whole court +was amazed at the arithmetical wisdom of the fair Libussa, and the +acuteness of her clever bridegroom. No one could comprehend how human +intellect was able on the one hand to bind a common number so +enigmatically in words, and on the other to pick out such an ingenious +mystery with such perfect confidence. The lady awarded the empty +basket to the two knights, who could not obtain her love, as a memorial +of a terminated amour. Hence arises the custom, which exists to the +present time, of saying that a rejected lover has received a _basket_ +from his mistress.[3] + +When all was in readiness for the homage, and the nuptials, both these +ceremonies were celebrated with great pomp. The Bohemian people had +now a duke, and the fair Libussa a husband, both to their heart’s +content, and what was most surprising this result was brought about by +trickery, which does not generally bear the reputation of being the +most skilful negotiator. If one of the two parties had been deceived, +certainly it was not the sage Libussa, but the people, as indeed is +frequently the case. The land of Bohemia had nominally a duke, but in +point of fact the government remained in a female hand as before. +Premislas was a perfect pattern of a docile obedient husband, who did +not dispute the rule of his wife, either in the household or the state. +His thoughts and wishes sympathised as perfectly with her own, as two +similarly tuned strings, of which the untouched one spontaneously +repeats the sound, which the louder one has uttered. Libussa had not, +however, the proud, vain disposition of those ladies who wish to pass +for great matches, and are always superciliously reminding the poor +wight, whose fortune they think they have made, of his wooden shoes; +but she imitated the celebrated Queen of Palmyra, and governed by the +superiority of her talents, as Zenobia managed her good-natured +Odenatus. + +The happy pair lived in the enjoyment of unchanging love, according to +the fashion of that time, when the instinct which unites hearts was as +firm and durable as the cement and mortar which renders the walls of +the old world so firm and indestructible. Duke Premislas now became +one of the most doughty knights of his age, and the Bohemian court one +of the most brilliant in Germany. A large number of knights and +nobles, as well as a great concourse of common people gradually +assembled from all parts of the territory. The consequence was, that +the court-city became too narrow for the inhabitants, and therefore +Libussa called her people in office to her, and ordered them to build a +city on the spot where they should find a man who knew how to make the +wisest use of teeth at noon. They went out and found at the appointed +time a man who was busied in sawing a block asunder. They decided that +this industrious person made an incomparably better use of the teeth of +his saw at noon than the parasite made of the teeth in his jaws at the +table of the great, and they did not doubt that they had found the +place which the princess had appointed for the foundation of the new +city. They therefore drew the ploughshare round the field to mark the +compass of the city wall. On asking the working man what he intended +to make out of the piece of wood he was cutting, he answered: “Prah,” +which in the Bohemian tongue signifies the threshold of a door. +Libussa therefore called the new city Praha, that is Prague, the +well-known royal city on the Moldau in Bohemia. The prediction of +Premislas concerning his posterity was punctually fulfilled. His wife +became mother of three princes, two of whom died in their youth, while +the third grew to man’s estate, and from him sprung a brilliant race of +kings, who flourished on the Bohemian throne for ages. + + +[1] A proverbial expression in Germany for a scene of riot, on account +of the disturbances that usually took place at Polish elections. + +[2] An allusion to the Emperor Joseph II. + +[3] The expression “Einen Korb bekommen,” to meet with a refusal, is +familiar to every reader of German. + + + + +THE CRIMINAL FROM LOST HONOUR. + +BY FRIEDRICH SCHILLER. + +In the whole history of man there is no chapter more instructive for +the heart and mind than the annals of his errors. On the occasion of +every great crime a proportionally great force was in motion. If by +the pale light of ordinary emotions the play of the desiring faculty is +concealed, in the situation of strong passion it becomes the more +striking, the more colossal, the more audible, and the acute +investigator of humanity, who knows how much may be properly set down +to the account of the mechanism of the ordinary freedom of the will, +and how far it is allowable to reason by analogy, will be able from +this source to gather much fresh experience for his psychology, and to +render it applicable to moral life. + +The human heart is something so uniform and at the same time so +compound! One and the same faculty or desire may play in a thousand +forms and directions, may produce a thousand contradictory phenomena, +may appear differently mingled in a thousand characters, and a thousand +dissimilar characters and actions might be spun out of one kind of +inclination, though the particular man, about whom the question was +raised, might have no suspicion of such affinity. If, as for the other +kingdoms of nature, a Linnæus for the human race were to arise, who +could classify according to inclinations and impulses, how great would +be the empire, when many a person whose vices are now stifled in a +narrow social sphere, and in the close confines of the law, was found +in the same order with the monster Borgia. + +Considered from this point of view, the usual mode of treating history +is open to much objection, and herein, I think, lies the difficulty, +owing to which the study of history has always been so unfruitful for +civil life. Between the vehement emotions of the man in action, and +the quiet mind of the reader, to whom the action is presented, there is +such a repelling contrast, such a wide interval, that it is difficult, +nay, impossible for the latter, even to suspect a connexion. A gap +remains between the subject of the history and the reader which cuts +off all possibility of comparison or application, and which, instead of +awakening that wholesome alarm, that warns too secure health, merely +calls forth the shake of the head denoting suspicion. We regard the +unhappy person, who was still a man as much as ourselves, both when he +committed the act and when he atoned for it, as a creature of another +species, whose blood flows differently from our own, and whose will +does not obey the same regulations as our own. His fate teaches us but +little, as sympathy is only founded on an obscure consciousness of +similar peril, and we are far removed even from the bare suspicion of +such similarity. The relation being lost, instruction is lost with it, +and history, instead of being a school of cultivation, must rest +content with the humble merit of having satisfied our curiosity. If it +is to become any thing more and attain its great purpose, it must +choose one of these two plans: either the reader must become as warm as +the hero, or the hero must become as cold as the reader. + +I am aware that many of the best historians, both of ancient and modern +times, have adhered to the first method, and have gained the heart of +their reader, by a style which carries him along with the subject. But +this is an usurpation on the part of the author, and an infringement on +the republican freedom of the reading public, which is itself entitled +to sit in judgment: it is at the same time a violation of the law of +boundaries, since this method belongs exclusively and properly to the +orator and the poet. The last method is alone open to the historian. + +The hero then must be as cold as the reader or--what comes to the same +thing--we must become acquainted with him before he begins to act; we +must see him not only perform, but will his action. His thoughts +concern us infinitely more than his deeds, and the sources of his +thoughts still more than the consequences of his deeds. The soil of +Vesuvius has been explored to discover the origin of its eruption; and +why is less attention paid to a moral than to a physical phenomenon? +Why do we not equally regard the nature and situation of the things +which surround a certain man, until the tinder collected within him +takes fire? The dreamer, who loves the wonderful is charmed by the +singularity and wonder of such a phenomenon; but the friend of truth +seeks a mother for these lost children. He seeks her in the +unalterable structure of the human soul, and in the variable conditions +by which it is influenced from without, and by searching both these he +is sure to find her. He is now no more astonished to see the poisonous +hemlock thriving in that bed, in every other part of which wholesome +herbs are growing, to find wisdom and folly, virtue and vice, together +in the same cradle. + +Not to mention any of the advantages which psychology derives from such +a method of treating history, this method has alone the preference, +because it uproots the cruel scorn and proud security with which erect +and untempted virtue commonly looks down upon the fallen, because it +diffuses the mild spirit of toleration, without which no fugitive can +return, no reconciliation between the law and its offender is possible, +no infected member of society can escape utter mortification. + +Had the criminal of whom I am now about to speak a right to appeal to +that spirit of toleration? Was he really lost for the body of the +state, without a possibility of redemption? I will not anticipate the +reader’s verdict. Our leniency will no more avail him, since he +perished by the hand of the executioner, but the dissection of his +crime will perhaps instruct humanity, and possibly instruct justice +also. + +Christian Wolf was the son of an innkeeper in a provincial town (the +name of which must be concealed for reasons which will be obvious in +the sequel), and, his father being dead, he assisted his mother in the +business till his twentieth year. The business was bad, and Wolf had +many an idle hour. Even from his school days he was notorious as a +loose kind of fellow. Grown up girls complained of his audacity, and +the lads of the town reverenced his inventive powers. Nature had +neglected his person. A little insignificant figure, curly hair of an +unpleasant blackness, a flat nose, and a swollen upper lip, which had +been moreover put out of its place by the kick of a horse, gave a +repulsiveness to his appearance, which scared all the women away from +him, and afforded abundant material for the wit of his comrades. + +Obstinately did he endeavour to gain what had been denied him; because +he was unpleasant he determined to please. He was sensual, and +persuaded himself that he was in love. The girl whom he chose +ill-treated him; he had reason to fear his rivals were more fortunate; +nevertheless the girl was poor. A heart that was closed to his +endearments might possibly open to his presents, but he himself was +oppressed by want, and his vain endeavour to produce an effective +exterior absorbed the small gains of his miserable business. Too +indolent and too ignorant to restore his dilapidated affairs by +speculation, too proud, and also too delicate to exchange the condition +of master which he had hitherto held, for that of peasant, he saw but +one path before him--a path which thousands before and after him have +taken with better success--that of stealing honestly. His native town +bordered on a wood, which belonged to the sovereign; he turned poacher, +and the profits of his depredations were faithfully placed in the hands +of his mistress. + +Among the lovers of Johanna was Robert, a huntsman in the service of +the forester. This man soon perceived the advantage which had been +gained over him by the liberality of his rival, and filled with envy, +he investigated the source of this change. He appeared more frequently +at the Sun--this was the sign of the inn--and his watchful eye, +sharpened by envy and jealousy, soon showed him whence the money had +been procured. A short time before, a severe edict had been revived +against poachers, condemning transgressors to the house of correction. +Robert was unwearied in observing the secret paths of his rival, and +finally succeeded in catching the unwary man in the very fact. Wolf +was apprehended, and it was only by the sacrifice of all his property, +that he was able--and then with difficulty--to escape the awarded +punishment by a fine. + +Robert triumphed. His rival was beaten out of the field, and Johanna’s +favour was at an end, now he was a beggar. Wolf knew his enemy, and +this enemy was the happy possessor of Johanna. An oppressive feeling +of want was combined with offended pride, necessity and jealousy raged +together against his sensitiveness, hunger drove him out upon the wide +world, revenge and passion held him fast. For a second time he turned +poacher, but Robert’s redoubled vigilance was again too much for him. +Now he experienced all the severity of the law, for he had nothing more +to give, and in a few weeks he was consigned to the house of correction +attached to the capital. + +This year of punishment had passed, absence had increased his passion, +and his stubbornness had become greater under the weight of his +misfortune. Scarcely had he regained his freedom than he hastened to +the place of his birth to show himself to his Johanna. He appeared, +and all shunned him. Pressing necessity at last subdued his pride, and +overcame his sense of personal weakness,--he offered himself to the +opulent of the place, as willing to serve for daily hire. The farmer +shrugged his shoulders as he saw the weakly looking creature, and the +stout bony frame of a rival applicant was decisive against him in the +mind of the unfeeling patron. He made one effort more. One office was +still left--the very last post of an honest name. He applied for the +vacant place of herdsman of the town, but the peasant would not trust +his pigs to a scape-grace. Frustrated in every effort, rejected at +every place, he became a poacher for the third time, and for a third +time had the misfortune of falling into the hands of his watchful enemy. + +The double relapse had increased the magnitude of the offence. The +judges looked into the book of laws, but not into the criminal’s state +of mind. The decree against poachers required a solemn and exemplary +satisfaction; and Wolf was condemned to work for three years in the +fortification, with the mark of the gallows branded on his back. + +This period also had elapsed, and he quitted the fortification, a very +different man from the man he was when he entered it. Here began a new +epoch in his life. Let us hear him speak himself, as he afterwards +confessed to his spiritual adviser, and before the court. “I entered +the fortification,” he said, “as an erring man, and I left it--a +villain. I had still possessed something in the world which was dear +to me, and my pride had bowed down under shame. When I was brought to +the fortification, I was confined with three and twenty prisoners, two +of whom were murderers, while all the rest were notorious thieves and +vagabonds. They scoffed at me, when I spoke of God, and encouraged me +to utter all sorts of blasphemies against the Redeemer. Obscene songs +were sung in my presence, which, graceless fellow as I was, I could not +hear without disgust and horror; and what I saw done, was still more +revolting to my sense of decency. There was not a day in which some +career of shame was not repeated, in which some evil project was not +hatched. At first I shunned these people, and avoided their discourse +as much as possible; but I wanted the sympathy of some fellow creature, +and the barbarity of my keepers had even denied me my dog. The labour +was hard and oppressive, my body weak; I wanted assistance, and, if I +must speak out, I wanted compassion also, and this I was forced to +purchase with the last remains of my conscience. Thus did I ultimately +become inured to what was most detestable, and in the quarter of the +year I had surpassed my instructors. + +“I now thirsted after the day of liberty, as I thirsted after revenge. +All men had offended me, for all were better and happier than me. I +considered myself the martyr of natural rights, the victim of the law. +Grinding my teeth, I rubbed my chains, when the sun rose behind the +mountain on which the fortification stood;--a wide prospect is a +two-fold hell for a prisoner. The free breeze that whistled through +the loop-holes of my tower, the swallow that perched on the iron bar of +my grating, seemed to insult me with their liberty, and made my +confinement the more hideous. Then I swore a fierce, unconquerable +hate against all that resembles man, and faithfully have I kept my oath. + +“My first thought, as soon as I was free, was my native town. Little +as I had to hope there for my future support, much was promised to my +hunger for revenge. My heart beat more wildly as I saw the +church-steeple rise in the distance from the wood. It was no more that +heartfelt comfort, which I felt, when first I returned thither. The +remembrance of all the afflictions, all the persecutions which I had +suffered then roused me at once from a frightful torpor; every wound +bled afresh, every scar was opened. I quickened my steps, for I walked +in the thought of terrifying my enemy by my sudden appearance, and I +now thirsted as much after new humiliation as I had before trembled at +it. + +“The bells were ringing for vespers, while I stood in the middle of the +market. The congregation was thronging to church. I was now +recognised, and every one who came near me shyly shrank back. I was +always very fond of little children, and even now, by an involuntary +impulse, I gave a groschen to a boy who was skipping by me. The boy +stared at me for a moment, and then flung the groschen into my face. +Had my blood been cooler I should have remembered that the beard, which +I had brought with me from the fortification, disfigured my face in the +most frightful manner, but my bad heart had infected my reason. Tears, +such as I had never shed, ran down my cheeks. + +“‘The boy does not know who I am, nor whence I come,’ I now said to +myself, half aloud, ‘and yet he shuns me like some noxious beast. Have +I any mark on my forehead, or have I ceased to look like a man because +I can no longer love one?’ The contempt of this boy wounded me more +bitterly than three years’ service in the galleys, for I had done him a +kindness, and could not charge him with personal hatred. + +“I sat down in a timber-yard opposite the church. What I actually +desired I do not know, but this I know, that I rose with indignation; +when, of all my acquaintance that passed, not one would give me a +greeting. Deeply offended, I left the spot to seek a lodging, when +just as I was turning the corner of a street I ran against my Johanna. +‘The host of the Sun!’ she cried aloud, and made a movement to embrace +me. ‘Thou returned, dear host of the Sun--God be praised!’ Her attire +bespoke misery and hunger, her aspect denoted the abandoned condition +to which she had sunk. I quickly surmised what had happened; some of +the prince’s dragoons who had met me, made me guess that there was a +garrison in the town. ‘Soldier’s wench!’ cried I, and laughing, I +turned my back upon her. I felt comforted that in the rank of living +beings there was still one creature below me. I had never loved her. + +“My mother was dead, my creditors had paid themselves with my small +house. I had lost every body and every thing. All the world shunned +me as though I were venomous, but I had at last forgotten shame. +Before, I had retired from the sight of men because contempt was +unendurable. Now I obtruded myself upon them, and felt delight in +scaring them. I was easy because I had nothing more to lose, and +nothing more to guard. I no more needed any good quality, because none +believed I could have any. + +“The whole world lay open before me, and in some strange province I +might have passed for an honest man, but I had lost the spirit even to +appear one. Despair and shame had at last forced this mood upon me. +It was the last refuge that was left me, to learn to do without honour, +because I had no longer a claim to it. Had my pride and vanity +survived my degradation, I must have destroyed myself. + +“What I had actually resolved upon was yet unknown even to myself. I +had to be sure a dark remembrance that I wished to do something bad. I +wished to merit my fate. The laws, I thought, were beneficial to the +world, and therefore I embraced the determination of violating them. +Formerly I had sinned from necessity and levity, now it was from free +choice, and for my own pleasure. + +“My first plan was to continue my poaching. Hunting altogether had +gradually become a passion with me, and besides I was forced to live +some way. But this was not all; I was tickled at the thought of +scorning the princely edict, and of injuring my sovereign to the utmost +of my power. I no more feared apprehension, for I had a bullet ready +for my discoverer, and I knew that I should not miss my man. I killed +all the game that came across me, a small quantity of which I sold on +the border, but the greater part I left to rot. I lived miserably, +that I might be able to afford powder and ball. My devastations in the +great hunt were notorious, but suspicion no longer touched me. My +aspect dissipated it: my name was forgotten. + +“This kind of life lasted for several months. One morning I had, as +usual rambled through the wood, to follow the track of a deer. I had +wearied myself for two hours in vain, and was already beginning to give +up my prey as lost, when I suddenly discovered it within gun-shot. I +was about to take aim and fire, when I was suddenly startled by the +appearance of a hat which lay on the ground a few paces before me. I +looked closer, and discovered the huntsman Robert, who from behind the +thick trunk of an oak tree was levelling his gun at the very animal +which I had designed to shoot. At this sight a deadly coldness passed +through my bones. Here was the man whom I detested more than any +living thing, and this man within reach of my bullet. At the moment I +felt as if the whole world depended on the firing of my gun, and the +hatred of my whole life seemed concentrated in the tip of the finger +that was to give the fatal pressure to the trigger. An invisible fatal +hand was suspended over me, the index of my destiny pointed irrevocably +to this black minute. My arm trembled, when I allowed my gun the fatal +choice, my teeth chattered as in an ague fit, and my breath, with a +suffocating sensation, was confined in my lungs. For the duration of +one minute did the barrel of the gun waver uncertainly between the man +and the deer, one minute--and one more--and yet one more. It was a +doubtful and obstinate contest between revenge and conscience, but +revenge gained the victory, and the huntsman lay dead on the ground. + +“My gun fell as it had been fired. ‘Murderer,’ I stammered out +slowly--the wood was as silent as a churchyard, and I could hear +plainly that I said ‘murderer.’ When I drew nearer, the man had died. +Long did I stand speechless before the corse, when a shrill burst of +laughter came as a relief. ‘Will you keep counsel now, friend?’ said +I, and boldly stepping up to the murdered man, I turned round his face +towards myself. His eyes were wide open. I was serious, and again +became suddenly still. An extraordinary feeling took possession of me. + +“Hitherto I had sinned on account of my disgrace, but now something had +happened for which I had not yet atoned. An hour before, I think, no +man could have persuaded me that there was any thing under heaven worse +than myself, whereas, now I began to suspect that my condition an hour +before was, perhaps, an enviable one. + +“God’s judgments did not occur to me,--but I had a dim recollection of +sword and cord, and the execution of an infanticide which I saw while a +school-boy. There was something peculiarly terrible to me in the +thought that my life from this moment had become forfeit. More I do +not recollect. My first wish was that Robert was still living. I +endeavoured forcibly to recall to my mind all the wrong that the +deceased had done me during his life,--but strange to say, my memory +seemed to have perished. I could recall nothing of that, which a +quarter of an hour before had impelled me to madness. I did not +understand how I had been induced to commit this murder. + +“I was yet standing by the corpse. The crack of some whips, and the +noise of carts, which were passing through the wood, brought me to my +senses. The deed had been committed scarcely a quarter of a mile from +the high road, and I was forced to think of my own safety. + +“Unintentionally I strayed deeper into the wood. On the way, it struck +me that the deceased once possessed a watch. I needed money to reach +the border--and yet I lacked courage to return to the spot, where the +dead man lay. A thought of the devil and of an omnipotence of the +deity began to terrify me. However, I summoned all my audacity, and +resolved to set all hell at defiance. I returned to the place. I +found what I had expected, and also money amounting to rather more than +a dollar in a green purse. Just as I was about to put them both up, I +suddenly stopped, and began to reflect. It was no fit of shame, nor +was it the fear of increasing my crime by plunder. I believe it was +out of a spirit of defiance that I flung away the watch, and only kept +half the money. I wished to be taken for a personal enemy of the +murdered man, but not for one who had robbed him. + +“I now fled deeper into the wood, which I knew extended four German +miles to the north, and there touched the border of the country. Till +noon I ran breathless. The rapidity of my flight had dissipated the +anguish of my conscience, but the return of that anguish was frightful, +when my strength more and more declined. A thousand hideous forms +passed before me, and struck into my heart, like sharp knives. Between +a life filled with an increasing terror of death, and a violent end, +the awful choice was now left me--and choose I must. I had not the +heart to quit the world by self-destruction, and I was terrified at the +prospect of remaining in it. Fixed as it were between the certain +torments of life, and the uncertain terrors of eternity--unable to live +or to die--I passed the sixth hour of my flight--an hour brimful of +horrors, such as no living man could narrate. + +“Slowly--absorbed in myself, and with my hat unconsciously slouched +over my face, as if I wished to conceal myself from the eye of +inanimate nature,--I had insensibly followed a narrow path, which led +me through the deepest part of the thicket--when suddenly a rough +imperious voice called to me, ‘stop.’ The voice was quite close; my +abstraction and the slouched hat had prevented me from looking round. +I raised my eyes and saw a wild man, armed with a great knotted club, +approaching me. His figure was almost gigantic--at least my first +surprise made me think so--and the colour of his skin was a yellow +mulatto sort of black, with which the whiteness of a squinting eye +stood in terrible contrast. Instead of a girdle he had a thick rope +wound twice round a green woollen coat, in which were stuck a broad +knife and a pistol. The cry was repeated, and a powerful arm held me +fast. The sound of a man had frightened me, but the aspect of a +villain gave me new heart. In my present situation, I had cause to +tremble before every honest man, but none to tremble before a robber. + +“‘Who is there?’ said the apparition. + +“‘One like yourself,’ was my answer, ‘if you really correspond to your +appearance.’ + +“‘That is not the way out? What are you looking for here?’ + +“‘What is that to you?’ retorted I, insolently. + +“The man considered me twice from top to toe. It seemed as though he +wished to compare my figure with his own, and my answer with my figure. +‘You speak as rudely as a beggar,’ he said at last. + +“‘Perhaps so. I was a beggar yesterday.’ + +“The man laughed. ‘One could swear you did not want to pass for any +thing better now.’ + +“‘For something worse then.’--I wished to proceed. + +“‘Softly friend, why in such a hurry? What time have you to lose?’ + +“I reflected for a moment. How the words came to my tongue I do not +know. ‘Life is short,’ said I, slowly, ‘and hell lasts for ever!’ + +“He stared at me. ‘May I be d--d,’ he said at last, ‘if thou hast not +brushed close by a gallows.’ + +“‘Very possibly. So good bye for the present, comrade!’ + +“‘_Topp_, comrade!’ he cried, as he drew a tin flask out of his +hunting-pouch, took a good draught from it, and handed it to me. +Flight and anguish had exhausted my energies, and nothing had passed my +lips the whole day. I had already feared that I should have sunk from +exhaustion in this wood, where no refreshment was to be expected for +three miles round. Judge how joyfully I responded to this health. +With the animating draught new strength flowed into my bones, new +courage into my heart, and I felt hope and the love of life. I began +to think that perhaps I was not quite wretched; so much at least was +the welcome beverage all to do. Yes, I must even confess that my +situation approached that of happiness, for at last, after a thousand +vain hopes, I had found a creature who seemed similar to myself. In +the condition to which I had fallen I should have drank good fellowship +with the spirit of evil himself for the sake of having a confidant. + +“The man had stretched himself out on the grass. I did the same. + +“‘Your liquor has done me good,’ said I. ‘We must become acquainted.’ + +“He struck fire to light his pipe. + +“‘Have you carried on this business long?’ + +“He looked hard at me. ‘What do you mean by that?’ + +“‘Has this often been stained with blood?’ I drew the knife from his +girdle. + +“‘Who are you?’ said he, in a fearful tone, and he laid down his pipe. + +“‘A murderer like you, but only a beginner.’ + +“The man stared at me, and took up his pipe again. ‘Do you reside +here?’ he said at last. + +“‘Three miles off. I am the host of the Sun at ----, of whom perhaps +you have heard.’ + +“The man sprung up as if possessed. ‘The poacher Wolf,’ he cried +hastily. + +“‘The same!’ + +“‘Welcome, comrade, welcome!’ cried he, and shook my hands violently. +‘That is brave, that I have you at last, mine host of the Sun. Day and +night have I been thinking how to get you. I know you well. I know +all. I have reckoned on you long ago.’ + +“‘Reckoned on me! For what?’ + +“‘The whole country round is full of you. You have enemies! A bailiff +has oppressed you, Wolf! They have ruined you, and the wrongs you have +suffered cry aloud to Heaven.’ + +“The man became warm. ‘Because you have shot a few hogs, which the +prince feeds in our fields they have dragged you about for years in the +house of correction and the fortification, they have robbed you of your +house and business and made you a beggar. Has it come to this, +brother, that a man is worth no more than a hare? Are we not better +than brutes of the field? And a fellow like you could suffer that?’ + +“‘Could I alter it?’ + +“‘That we shall see. But tell me, whence do you come, and what do you +purpose?’ + +“I began to tell him all my history. The man, without waiting till I +had finished it, sprung up with joyous impatience, and drew me after +him. ‘Come, brother host of the Sun,’ said he, ‘now you are ripe, now +I have you when I wanted you. I shall get honour by you. Follow me.’ + +“‘Where will you take me?’ + +“‘Do not stop to ask, but follow.’ He then forcibly dragged me along. + +“We had proceeded about a quarter of a mile. The wood became more and +more steep, pathless and wild, neither of us uttered a word, until at +last my leader’s whistle startled me out of my meditations. I raised +my eyes, we were standing on the edge of a steep rock, which was bowed +down into a deep cleft. A second whistle answered from the interior +hollow of the rock, and a ladder slowly rose from the abyss, as of its +own accord. My conductor descended first, and told me to wait till he +returned. ‘I must first chain up my dog,’ said he, ‘you are strange +here, and the beast would tear you to pieces.’ + +“I now stood alone before the abyss, and well I knew that I was alone. +The improvidence of my leader did not escape my attention. It only +required a hearty resolution to draw up the ladder; then I should have +been free, and my flight would have been secure. I confess that I +perceived that. I looked down into the abyss, which was now to receive +me, and it dimly reminded me of the descent into hell, from which there +is no redemption. I began to shudder at the career I was about to +enter; only a rapid flight could save me. I resolved on this flight; I +had already stretched my hand towards the ladder, but at once there was +a thunder in my ears, a noise about me like the scornful laughter of +hell, and it seemed to say: ‘What can a murderer risk?’ My arm fell +back as if paralysed. I had reckoned rightly, the time for repentance +had passed, the murder I had committed lay towering up behind me like a +rock, and cut off my retreat for ever. At the same time my conductor +re-appeared and told me I might come. There was now no longer any +choice. I clambered down. + +“We had proceeded some steps, beneath the wall of the rock, when the +ground became wider and some huts were visible. In the midst of these +was a round grass plat, on which about eighteen or twenty persons were +lying round a charcoal fire. ‘Here comrades,’ said my conductor, +placing me in the centre of the circle. ‘Our host of the Sun! Bid him +welcome!’ + +“‘The host of the Sun!’ cried all at once, and they all--men and +women--rose and pressed round me. Shall I confess it. The joy was +hearty and unaffected, confidence, nay, esteem appeared in every face; +one pressed my hand, another familiarly shook me by my coat--the whole +scene resembled that at the re-appearance of an old and valued friend. +My arrival had interrupted the feast, which they had just begun. They +now continued it, and invited me to pledge the welcome. Game of all +kinds formed the meal, and the wine flask passed without flagging from +hand to hand. Good cheer and unity seemed to animate the entire band, +and the contest among them all was who should show the most extravagant +delight at my arrival. + +“They had seated me between two women, which was the post of honour at +the table. I expected to find the refuse of their sex, but how great +was my astonishment when I discovered among this infamous troop the +most beautiful female forms that my eyes had ever beheld. Margaret, +the eldest and most beautiful of the two, was called Miss, and could +scarcely have been five-and-twenty. Her words were very bold, and her +gestures still more so. Maria, the younger, was married, but she had +fled from a husband, who had ill-used her. She was more elegant, but +pale and delicate-looking, and less striking to the eye than her fiery +neighbour. Both women strove hard to excite my passion. The beautiful +Margaret endeavoured to overcome my bashfulness by loose jests, but the +whole woman was repulsive to me, and the bashful Maria had gained my +heart for ever. + +“‘You see, brother host of the Sun,’ began the man who had brought me, +‘You see how we live together, and every day is like this one. Is it +not true, comrades?’ + +“‘Every day like this!’ repeated the whole band. + +“‘If, then, you can resolve to find pleasure in our mode of life, +strike a bargain and be our leader. I have held that post hitherto, +but I will give it up to you. Are you content, comrades.’ + +“A joyful ‘Yes!’ was responded from every throat. + +“My head was on fire, my brain was turned, and my blood was boiling +with wine and passion. The world had cast me out as infected with the +plague, but here I found a brotherly reception, honour, and comfort. +Whatever choice I made death awaited me, but here I could at least sell +my life for a higher price. Sensuality was my most violent tendency; +hitherto the other sex had only shown me contempt, but here I should +find favour and boundless enjoyment. My determination cost me but +little. ‘I stay with you, comrades,’ cried I, loudly and resolutely, +and walked into the midst of the band. ‘I remain with you,’ I cried +again, ‘if you will give me my beautiful neighbour.’ All agreed to +grant my request, and I was the declared possessor of a harlot, and +owner of a band of robbers.” + + * * * * * + +The following part of the history I entirely pass over; the merely +detestable has nothing instructive for the reader. An unfortunate man +who had sunk to this depth, would at last necessarily allow himself all +that raises the indignation of mankind. He did not, however, commit +another murder, as he himself confessed upon the rack. + +The fame of this man shortly spread over the entire province. The high +roads became unsafe; the citizens were rendered uneasy by the +burglaries committed in the night; the name of the “Host of the Sun” +became the terror of the country-people, justice searched for him, and +a reward was offered for his head. He was fortunate enough to +frustrate all attempts made against his liberty, and cunning enough to +turn to the account of his safety the superstition of the wonder-loving +peasantry. His comrades had to spread the report that he had made a +compact with the devil, and understood witchcraft. The district in +which he played his part, belonged less at that time than now to the +enlightened part of Germany; the reports were believed, and his person +was secure. No one showed a desire to attack the dangerous fellow who +had the devil at his service. + +He had already for a year followed his melancholy profession, when it +began to grow insupportable. The band at whose head he stood, did not +fulfil his brilliant expectations. A seductive exterior had dazzled +him amid the fumes of the wine; now he saw with horror how frightfully +he had been deceived. Hunger and want took the place of that +superfluity by which his senses had been lulled; very often he had to +risk his life on a meal, which was scarcely sufficient to keep him from +starvation. The phantom of that brotherly concord vanished; envy, +suspicion, and jealousy raged among this abandoned crew. Justice had +offered a reward to any one who should deliver him up alive, with a +solemn pardon if he were an accomplice--a powerful temptation for the +dregs of the earth! The unhappy man knew his peril. The honesty of +those who betrayed God and man, was a bad security for his life. From +this moment sleep was gone; a deadly and eternal anguish preyed on his +repose; the hideous spectre of suspicion rattled behind him, wherever +he fled, tortured him when he was awake, lay down by him when he went +to sleep, and scared him with horrible visions. His conscience, which +had been for some time dumb, now recovered its speech, and the adder of +remorse, which had slept, now awoke amid the general storm of his +bosom. All his hatred was now diverted from mankind, and turned its +frightful edge against himself. He now forgave all nature, and found +none but himself to execrate. + +Vice had completed its instruction of this unhappy being; his naturally +good sense at last overcame the mournful delusion. Now he felt how low +he had fallen, calm melancholy took the place of grinding despair. +With tears he wished the past were recalled, for now he felt certain +that he could go through it differently. He began to hope that he +might be allowed to become honest, because he felt that he could be so. +At the highest point of his depravity, he was perhaps nearer to +goodness than before his first fault. + +About the same time, the seven years’ war had broken out, and +recruiting was going on with vigour. This circumstance inspired the +unhappy man with hope, and he wrote a letter to his sovereign, an +extract of which I insert: + +“If your princely favour feels no repugnance towards descending to me, +if criminals of my class are not beyond the sphere of your mercy, grant +me a hearing, I beg of your most serene highness! I am a murderer and +a robber; the law condemns me to death, the tribunals are in search of +me, and I offer myself to serve as a volunteer. But at the same time, +I bring a singular request before your throne. I detest my life, and +do not fear death, but it is terrible for me to die without having +lived. I would live to make reparation for a portion of the past, I +would live to make some atonement to the state, which I have offended. +My execution will be an example to the world, but no compensation for +my deeds. I detest vice, and have a burning desire for integrity and +virtue. I have shown the talents for becoming formidable to my +country--I hope I have some left to be of service to it. + +“I know that I am asking something which is unprecedented. My life is +forfeit, and it is not for me to negotiate with justice. But I do not +appear in bonds and fetters before you--I am still free--and fear on my +part has the smallest share in my request. + +“It is for mercy that I ask. If I had a claim to justice, I should no +longer venture to assert it. But of one thing I may remind my judge. +The epoch of my crimes begins with the judgment that for ever deprived +me of honour. Had fairness been less denied me on that occasion, I +should not now, perhaps, have stood in need of mercy. + +“Show mercy, my prince, instead of justice. If it is in your princely +power to move the law in my favour, then grant me my life. From +henceforth it shall be devoted to your service. If you can do so, let +me learn your gracious will from the public journals, and I will appear +in the metropolis on your word as a prince. If you have resolved +otherwise, let justice do her part, I must do mine.” + +This petition remained unanswered, and so did a second, and a third, in +which the applicant asked for a trooper’s place in the prince’s +service. His hopes for a pardon were utterly extinguished, so he +resolved to quit the country, and to die as a brave soldier in the +service of the King of Prussia. + +He succeeded in escaping from his land, and began his journey. The +road led him through a little provincial town, where he wished to pass +the night. A short time before, mandates of exceeding strictness had +been published throughout the country, requiring a severe examination +of travellers, because the sovereign, a prince of the empire, had taken +part in the war. The toll-collector (_Thorschreiber_) of this little +town had just received a mandate, and he was sitting on a bench before +the toll-bar, when the “Host of the Sun” came up. The appearance of +this man had in it something comical, and at the same time wild and +terrible. The lean pony which he rode, and the grotesque choice of his +attire, in which his taste had probably been less consulted than the +chronology of his thefts, contrasted singularly enough with a face over +which so many raging passions were spread, like mangled corpses on a +field of battle. The collector was struck by the sight of this strange +wanderer. He had grown grey at the toll-bar, and by attending to his +office for forty years had become an infallible physiognomist of all +the vagabonds about. The falcon-glance of this investigator did not +miss its man on this occasion. He at once fastened the town-gate, and +asked the rider for his passport while he secured his bridle. Wolf was +prepared for chances of this kind, and actually had with him a +passport, which he had taken shortly before while plundering a +merchant. This single voucher, however, did not suffice to counteract +the observation of forty years, and to move the oracle of the toll-bar +to a recantation. He trusted his eyes more than the paper, and Wolf +was obliged to follow him to the office of the bailiff. + +The superior of the office examined the passport and declared it +correct. He was an ardent lover of news, and it was his delight to +chatter over the newspaper by his bottle. The passport told him that +the bearer had come straight from those foreign countries, where the +theatre of the war was situated. He hoped to get private intelligence +from the stranger, and sent back a secretary with the passport to +invite him to partake of a bottle of wine. + +In the meanwhile the “Host of the Sun” was standing in front of the +office, and the whimsical spectacle had assembled the rabble of the +town in throngs. The people whispered into one another’s ears, pointed +at the horse and rider, till at last the insolence of the mob increased +to a loud tumult. The horse, at which every one pointed, was unluckily +a stolen one, and Wolf fancied that it had been described in placards +and was recognised. The unexpected hospitality of the superior +confirmed his suspicion. He now considered it certain that the falsity +of his passport was discovered, and that the invitation was only a +snare to catch him alive and without resistance. His bad conscience +besotted him, so he clapped spurs to his horse and rode off without +giving a reply. + +This sudden flight was the signal for an uproar. + +“A thief!” cried all; and off they flew after him. To the rider it was +a matter of life and death; he had already the start, his followers +panted breathlessly, and he seemed to be on the point of escape. But a +heavy hand pressed invisibly towards him, the watch of his destiny had +run down, the inexorable Nemesis detained her debtor. The street to +which he trusted had no outlet, and he was forced to turn back towards +his persecutors. + +The noise of this event had in the meanwhile set the whole town in an +uproar; throng pressed on throng, all the streets were lined, and a +host of enemies were marching towards him. He showed a pistol, the mob +receded, and he would have made a way through the crowd by force. “A +shot from this,” said he, “for the mad fool who detains me.” A general +pause was dictated by fear, when at last, a bold journeyman blacksmith +darted on his arm from behind, caught the finger with which the insane +man was about to fire, and forced it out of joint. The pistol fell, +the disarmed man was pulled from his horse, and dragged to the office +in triumph. + +“Who are you?” asked the judge in a somewhat brutal tone. + +“A man who is resolved to answer no question until it is put more +courteously.” + +“Who are you?”[1] + +“That which I represented myself to be. I have travelled all through +Germany, and never found impudence at home, anywhere but here.” + +“Your speedy flight renders you very suspicious. Why did you fly?” + +“Because I was tired of being the laughing-stock of your rabble.” + +“You threatened to fire.” + +“My pistol was not loaded.” + +The weapon was examined, and, true enough, it contained no bullet. + +“Why did you secretly carry arms?” + +“Because I have with me articles of value, and because I have been +warned against a certain ‘Host of the Sun,’ who is said to be roving +about these parts.” + +“Your replies argue much for your audacity, but little for the goodness +of your cause. I will give you till to-morrow to discover the truth to +me.” + +“I shall abide by what I have already said.” + +“Let him be conducted to the tower.” + +“To the tower? I hope, Herr Superior, that there is still justice in +this country. I shall require satisfaction.” + +“I will give it you as soon as you are acquitted.” + +The next morning the superior reflected that the stranger might be +innocent after all; a dictatorial address could effect nothing with his +obstinacy, and it might, perhaps, be better to treat him with respect +and moderation. He collected the jury of the place, and had the +prisoner brought forward. + +“Forgive me for the first outbreak, sir, if I accosted you somewhat +hardly yesterday.” + +“Very readily, if you treat me thus.” + +“Our laws are severe, and your affair made a noise. I cannot release +you without committing a breach of duty. Appearance is against you, +and I wish you would say something, by which it might be refuted.” + +“What, if I know nothing?” + +“Then I must lay the case before the government, and you will, in the +meanwhile, remain closely confined.” + +“And then?” + +“Then you run the risk of being flogged over the border as a vagrant, +or, if mercy is shown, of being placed among the recruits.” + +He was silent for some minutes, and appeared to be undergoing a severe +contest, then he suddenly turned to the judge. + +“Can I be alone with you for a quarter of an hour?” + +The jury cast ambiguous glances at one another, but withdrew at a +commanding sign from their head. + +“Now, what do you want?” + +“Your demeanour of yesterday, Herr Superior, would never have brought +me to a confession, for I set force at defiance. The moderation with +which you have treated me to-day has given me confidence and respect +for you. I think that you are an honourable man.” + +“What have you to say to me?” + +“I see that you are an honourable man; I have long wished for a man +like you. Give me, I pray, your right hand.” + +“To what end?” + +“That head is gray and reverend. You have been long in the world--have +felt many sorrows--is it not so? And have become more humane.” + +“Sir, to what does this tend?” + +“You are now distant by only one step from eternity--soon, soon will +you need mercy from God. You will not deny it to man. Do you suspect +nothing? With whom do you suppose you are speaking?” + +“What do you mean? You terrify me.” + +“If you do not already suspect--write to your prince how you found me, +and that I myself of my free choice was my own betrayer--that God will +be merciful unto him as he now shows mercy unto me. Entreat for me, +old man, and then let a tear fall on your report: I am--the ‘Host of +the Sun.’” + +J. O. + + +[1] These questions appear the same in English, but the first in German +is “Wer seyd Ihr,” and the second “Wer sind Sie.” According to German +usage the latter alone is courteous. + + + + +THE COLD HEART. + +BY WILHELM HAUFF. + +Those who travel through Swabia should always remember to cast a +passing glance into the Schwarzwald,[1] not so much for the sake of the +trees (though pines are not found everywhere in such prodigious +numbers, nor of such a surpassing height), as for the sake of the +people, who show a marked difference from all others in the +neighbourhood around. They are taller than ordinary men, +broad-shouldered, have strong limbs, and it seems as if the bracing air +which blows through the pines in the morning, has allowed them, from +their youth upwards, to breathe more freely, and has given them a +clearer eye and a firmer, though ruder, mind than the inhabitants of +the valleys and plains. The strong contrast they form to the people +living without the limits of the “Wald,” consists, not merely in their +bearing and stature, but also in their manners and costume. Those of +the Schwarzwald of the Baden territory dress most handsomely; the men +allow their beards to grow about the chin just as nature gives it; and +their black jackets, wide trousers, which are plaited in small folds, +red stockings, and painted hats surrounded by a broad brim, give them a +strange, but somewhat grave and noble appearance. Their usual +occupations are the manufacturing of glass, and the so-called Dutch +clocks, which they carry about for sale over half the globe. + +Another part of the same race lives on the other side of the +Schwarzwald; but their occupations have made them contract manners and +customs quite different from those of the glass manufacturers. Their +_Wald_ supplies their trade; felling and fashioning their pines, they +float them through the _Nagold_ into the _Neckar_, from thence down the +Rhine as far as Holland; and near the sea the _Schwarzwälder_ and their +long rafts are well known. Stopping at every town which is situated +along the river, they wait proudly for purchasers of their beams and +planks; but the strongest and longest beams they sell at a high price +to Mynheers, who build ships of them. Their trade has accustomed them +to a rude and roving life, their pleasure consisting in drifting down +the stream on their timber, their sorrow in wandering back again along +the shore. Hence the difference in their costume from that of the +glass manufacturers. They wear jackets of a dark linen cloth, braces a +hand’s breadth wide, displayed over the chest, and trousers of black +leather, from the pocket of which a brass rule sticks out as a badge of +honour; but their pride and joy are their boots, which are probably the +largest that are worn in any part of the world, for they may be drawn +two spans above the knee, and the raftsmen may walk about in water at +three feet depth without getting their feet wet. + +It is but a short time ago that the belief in hobgoblins of the wood +prevailed among the inhabitants, this foolish superstition having been +eradicated only in modern times. But the singularity about these +hobgoblins who are said to haunt the Schwarzwald, is, that they also +wear the different costumes of the people. Thus it is affirmed of the +_Glass-mannikin_, a kind little sprite three feet and a half high, that +he never shows himself except in a painted little hat with a broad +brim, a doublet, white trousers, and red stockings; while Dutch Michel, +who haunts the other side of the forest, is said to be a gigantic, +broad-shouldered fellow wearing the dress of a raftsman; and many who +have seen him say they would not like to pay for the calves whose hides +it would require to make one pair of his boots, affirming that, without +exaggeration, a man of the middle height may stand in one of them with +his head only just peeping out. + +The following strange adventure with these spirits is said to have once +befallen a young Schwarzwälder:--There lived a widow in the +Schwarzwald, whose name was Frau Barbara Munk; her husband had been a +charcoal-burner, and after his death she had by degrees prevailed upon +her boy, who was now sixteen years old, to follow his father’s trade. +Young Peter Munk, a sly fellow, submitted to sit the whole week near +the smoking stack of wood, because he had seen his father do the same; +or, black and sooty and an abomination to the people as he was, to +drive to the nearest town and sell his charcoal. Now, a +charcoal-burner has much leisure for reflection, about himself and +others; and when Peter Munk was sitting by his stack, the dark trees +around him, as well as the deep stillness of the forest, disposed his +heart to tears, and to an unknown secret longing. Something made him +sad, and vexed him, without his knowing exactly what it was. At +length, however, he found out the cause of his vexation,--it was his +condition. “A black, solitary charcoal-burner,” he said to himself; +“it is a wretched life. How much more are the glass-manufacturers, and +the clockmakers regarded; and even the musicians, on a Sunday evening! +And when Peter Munk appears washed, clean, and dressed out in his +father’s best jacket with the silver buttons and bran new red +stockings--if then, any one walking behind him, thinks to himself, ‘I +wonder who that smart fellow is?’ admiring, all the time, my stockings +and stately gait;--if then, I say, he passes me and looks round, will +he not say, ‘Why, it is only Peter Munk, the charcoal-burner.” + +The raftsmen also on the other side of the wood were an object of envy +to him. When these giants of the forest came over in their splendid +clothes, wearing about their bodies half a hundred weight of silver, +either in buckles, buttons or chains, standing with sprawling legs and +consequential look to see the dancing, swearing in Dutch, and smoking +Cologne clay pipes a yard long, like the most noble Mynheers, then he +pictured to himself such a raftsman as the most perfect model of human +happiness. But when these fortunate men put their hands into their +pocket, pulled out handsful of thalers and staked a Sechsbatzner piece +upon the cast of a die, throwing their five or ten florins to and fro, +he was almost mad and sneaked sorrowfully home to his hut. Indeed he +had seen some of these gentlemen of the timber trade, on many a +holy-day evening, lose more than his poor old father had gained in the +whole year. There were three of these men, in particular, of whom he +knew not which to admire most. The one was a tall stout man with ruddy +face, who passed for the richest man in the neighbourhood; he was +usually called fat “Hesekiel.” Twice every year he went with timber to +Amsterdam, and had the good luck to sell it so much dearer than the +rest that he could return home in a splendid carriage, while they had +to walk. The second was the tallest and leanest man in the whole +_Wald_, and was usually called “the tall Schlurker;” it was his +extraordinary boldness that excited Munk’s envy, for he contradicted +people of the first importance, took up more room than four stout men, +no matter how crowded the inn might be, setting either both his elbows +upon the table, or drawing one of his long legs on the bench; yet, +notwithstanding all this, none dared to oppose him, since he had a +prodigious quantity of money. The third was a handsome young fellow, +who being the best dancer far around, was hence called “the king of the +ball-room.” Originally poor he had been servant to one of the timber +merchants, when all at once he became immensely rich; for which some +accounted by saying he had found a pot full of money under an old pine +tree, while others asserted that he had fished up in the Rhine, near +Bingen, a packet of gold coins with the spear which these raftsmen +sometimes throw at the fish as they go along in the river, that packet +being part of the great “Niebelungenhort,” which is sunk there. But +however this might be, the fact of his suddenly becoming rich caused +him to be looked upon as a prince by young and old. + +Often did poor Peter Munk the coal burner think of these three men, +when sitting alone in the pine forest. All three indeed had one great +fault, which made them hated by every body: this was their insatiable +avarice, their heartlessness towards their debtors and towards the +poor, for the Schwarzwälder are naturally a kind-hearted people. +However, we all know how it is in these matters; though they were hated +for their avarice, yet they commanded respect on account of their +money, for who but they could throw away thalers, as if they could +shake them from the pines? + +“This will do no longer,” said Peter one day to himself, when he felt +very melancholy, it being the morrow after a holiday when every body +had been at the inn; “if I don’t soon thrive I shall make away with +myself; Oh that I were as much looked up to and as rich as the stout +Hesekiel, or as bold and powerful as the tall Schlurker, or as renowned +as the king of the ball-room, and could like him throw thalers instead +of kreutzers to the musicians! I wonder where the fellow gets his +money!” Reflecting upon all the different means by which money may be +got, he could please himself with none, till at length he thought of +the tales of those people who, in times of old, had become rich through +the Dutchman Michel, or the glass-mannikin. During his father’s +lifetime other poor people often made their calls, and then their +conversation was generally about rich persons, and the means by which +they had come by their riches; in these discourses the glass-mannikin +frequently played a conspicuous part. Now, if Peter strained his +memory a little he could almost recall the short verse which one must +repeat near the Tannenbühl in the heart of the forest, to make the +sprite appear. It began as follows: + + “Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine, + Hundreds of years are surely thine: + Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling place--” + + +But he might tax his memory as much as he pleased, he could remember no +more of it. He often thought of asking some aged person what the whole +verse was. However, a certain fear of betraying his thoughts kept him +back, and moreover he concluded that the legend of the glass-mannikin +could not be very generally known, and that but few were acquainted +with the incantation, since there were not many rich persons in the +Wald;--if it were generally known, why had not his father, and other +poor people, tried their luck? At length, however, he one day got his +mother to talk about the mannikin, and she told him what he knew +already, as she herself remembered only the first line of the verse, +but she added, that the sprite would show himself only to those who had +been born on a Sunday, between eleven and two o’clock. He was, she +said, quite fit for evoking him, as he was born at twelve o’clock at +noon; if he but knew the verse. + +When Peter Munk heard this he was almost beside himself with joy and +desire to try the adventure. It appeared to him enough to know part of +the verse, and to be born on a Sunday, for the glass-mannikin to show +himself. Consequently when he one day had sold his coals, he did not +light a new stack, but put on his father’s holiday jacket, his new red +stockings, and best hat, took his blackthorn stick, five feet long into +his hand, and bade farewell to his mother, saying, “I must go to the +magistrate in the town, for we shall soon have to draw lots who is to +be soldier, and therefore I wish to impress once more upon him that you +are a widow, and I am your only son.” His mother praised his +resolution; but he started for the Tannenbühl. This lies on the +highest point of the Schwarzwald, and not a village or even a hut was +found, at that time, for two leagues around, for the superstitious +people believed it was haunted; they were even very unwilling to fell +timber in that part, though the pines were tall and excellent, for +often the axes of the wood-cutters had flown off the handle into their +feet, or the trees falling suddenly, had knocked the men down, and +either injured or even killed them; moreover, they could have used the +finest trees from there only for fuel, since the raftsmen never would +take a trunk from the Tannenbühl as part of a raft, there being a +tradition that both men and timber would come to harm, if they had a +tree from that spot on the water. Hence the trees there grew so dense +and high that is was almost night at noon. When Peter Munk approached +the place, he felt quite awe-stricken, hearing neither voice nor +footstep except his own; no axe resounded, and even the birds seemed to +shun the darkness amidst the pines. + +Peter Munk had now reached the highest point of the Tannenbühl, and +stood before a pine of enormous girth, for which a Dutch ship-builder +would have given many hundred florins on the spot. “Here,” said he, +“the treasure-keeper (Schatzhauser) no doubt lives,” and pulling off +his large hat, he made a low bow before the tree, cleared his throat, +and said, with a trembling voice, “I wish you a good evening, Mr. +Glass-mannikin.” But receiving no answer, and all around remaining +silent as before, he thought it would probably be better to say the +verse, and therefore murmured it forth. On repeating the words, he +saw, to his great astonishment, a singular and very small figure peep +forth from behind the tree. It seemed to him as if he had beheld the +glass-mannikin, just as he was described, the little black jacket, red +stockings, hat, all even to the pale, but fine shrewd countenance of +which the people so much talked, he thought he had seen. But alas, as +quickly as it had peeped forth, as quickly it had disappeared again. +“Mr. Glass-mannikin,” cried Peter Munk, after a short hesitation, “pray +don’t make a fool of me; if you fancy that I have not seen you, you are +vastly mistaken, I saw you very well peeping forth from behind the +tree.” Still no answer, only at times he fancied he heard a low, +hoarse tittering behind the tree. At length his impatience conquered +this fear, which had still restrained him, and he cried, “Wait, you +little rascal, I will have you yet.” At the same time he jumped behind +the tree, but there was no Schatzhauser, and only a pretty little +squirrel was running up the tree. + +Peter Munk shook his head; he saw he had succeeded to a certain degree +in the incantation, and that he perhaps only wanted one more rhyme to +the verse to evoke the glass-mannikin; he tried over and over again, +but could not think of any thing. The squirrel showed itself on the +lowest branches of the tree, and seemed to encourage or perhaps to mock +him. It trimmed itself, it rolled its pretty tail, and looked at him +with its cunning eyes. At length he was almost afraid of being alone +with this animal; for sometimes it seemed to have a man’s head, and to +wear a three cornered hat, sometimes to be quite like another squirrel, +with the exception only of having red stockings and black shoes on its +hind feet. In short it was a merry little creature, but still Peter +felt an awe, fancying that all was not right. + +Peter now went away with more rapid strides than he had come. The +darkness of the forest seemed to become blacker and blacker; the trees +stood closer to each other, and he began to be so terrified that he ran +off in a trot, and only became more tranquil when he heard dogs bark at +a distance, and soon after descried the smoke of a hut through the +trees. But on coming nearer and seeing the dress of the people, he +found that having taken the contrary direction he had got to the +raftsmen instead of the glass-makers. The people living in the hut +were wood-cutters, consisting of an aged man with his son who was the +owner, and some grown up grand-children. They received Peter Munk, who +begged a night’s quarter, hospitably enough without asking his name or +residence, they gave him cider to drink, and in the evening a large +black cock, the best meal in the Schwarzwald, was served up for supper. + +After this meal the housewife and her daughters took their distaffs and +sat round a large pine torch, which the boys fed with the finest rosin; +the host with his guest sat smoking and looking at the women; while the +boys were busy carving wooden spoons and forks. The storm was howling +and raging through the pines in the forest without, and now and then +very heavy blasts were heard, and it was as if whole trees were +breaking off and crashing down. The fearless youths were about to run +out to witness this terrific and beautiful spectacle, but their +grandfather kept them back with a stern look and these words: “I would +not advise any of you,” cried he, “to go now outside the door; by +heavens he never would return, for Michel the Dutchman is building this +night a new raft in the forest.” + +The younger of them looked at him with astonishment, having probably +heard before of Michel, but they now begged their grandpapa to tell +them some interesting story of him. Peter Munk who had heard but +confused stories of Michel the Dutchman on the other side of the +forest, joined in this request, asking the old man who and where he +was. “He is the lord of the forest,” was the answer, “and from your +not having heard this at your age, it follows that you must be a native +of those parts just beyond the Tannenbühl or perhaps still more +distant. But I will tell you all I know, and how the story goes about +him. A hundred years ago or thereabouts, there were far and wide no +people more upright in their dealings than the Schwarzwälder, at least +so my grandfather used to tell me. Now, since there is so much money +in the country, the people are dishonest and bad. The young fellows +dance and riot on Sundays, and swear to such a degree that it is +horrible to hear them; whereas formerly it was quite different, and I +have often said and now say, though he should look in through the +window, that the Dutchman Michel is the cause of all this depravity. A +hundred years ago then there lived a very rich timber merchant who had +many servants; he carried his trade far down the Rhine and was very +prosperous, being a pious man. One evening a person such as he had +never seen came to his door; his dress was like that of the young +fellows of the Schwarzwald, but he was full a head taller than any of +them, and no one had ever thought there could be such a giant. He +asked for work, and the timber-merchant, seeing he was strong, and able +to carry great weights, agreed with him about the wages and took him +into his service. He found Michel to be a labourer such as he had +never yet had; for in felling trees he was equal to three ordinary men, +and when six men were pulling at one end of a trunk he would carry the +other end alone. After having been employed in felling timber for six +months, he came one day before his master, saying, ‘I have now been +cutting wood long enough here, and should like to see what becomes of +my trunks; what say you to letting me go with the rafts for once?’ To +which his master replied, ‘I have no objection, Michel, to your seeing +a little of the world; to be sure I want strong men like yourself to +fell the timber, and on the river all depends upon skill; but, +nevertheless, be it for this time as you wish.’ + +“Now the float with which Michel was to go, consisted of eight rafts, +and in the last there were some of the largest beams. But what then? +The evening before starting, the tall Michel brought eight beams to the +water, thicker and longer than had ever been seen, and he carried every +one of them as easily upon his shoulder as if it had been a rowing +pole, so that all were amazed. Where he had felled them, no one knows +to this day. The heart of the timber-merchant was leaping with joy +when he saw this, calculating what these beams would fetch; but Michel +said, ‘Well, these are for my travelling on, with those chips I should +not be able to get on at all.’ His master was going to make him a +present of a pair of boots, but throwing them aside, Michel brought out +a pair the largest that had ever been seen, and my grandfather assured +me they weighed a hundred pounds and were five feet long. + +“The float started; and if Michel had before astonished the +wood-cutters, he perfectly astonished the raftsmen; for his raft, +instead of drifting slowly down the river as they thought it would, by +reason of the immense beams, darted on like an arrow, as soon as they +came into the Neckar. If the river took a turn, or if they came to any +part where they had a difficulty in keeping the middle stream or were +in danger of running aground, Michel always jumped into the water, +pushing his float either to the right or to the left, so that he glided +past without danger. If they came to a part where the river ran +straight, Michel often sprang to the foremost raft, and making all put +up their poles, fixed his own enormous pole in the sand, and by one +push made the float dart along, so that it seemed as if the land, +trees, and villages were flying by them. Thus they came in half the +time they generally occupied to Cologne on the Rhine, where they +formerly used to sell their timber. Here Michel said, ‘You are but +sorry merchants and know nothing of your advantage. Think you these +Colognese want all the timber from the Schwarzwald for themselves? I +tell you no, they buy it of you for half its value, and sell it dear to +Holland. Let us sell our small beams here, and go to Holland with the +large ones; what we get above the ordinary price is our own profit.’ + +“Thus spoke the subtle Michel, and the others consented; some because +they liked to go and see Holland, some for the sake of the money. Only +one man was honest, and endeavoured to dissuade them from putting the +property of their master in jeopardy or cheating him out of the higher +price. However they did not listen to him and forgot his words, while +Michel forgot them not. So they went down the Rhine with the timber, +and Michel, guiding the float soon brought them to Rotterdam. Here +they were offered four times as much as at Cologne, and particularly +the large beams of Michel fetched a very high sum. When the +Schwarzwälders beheld the money, they were almost beside themselves +with joy. Michel divided the money, putting aside one-fourth for their +master, and distributing the other three among the men. And now they +went into the public houses with sailors and other rabble, squandering +their money in drinking and gambling; while the honest fellow who had +dissuaded them was sold by Michel to a slave-trader and has never been +heard of since. From that time forward Holland was a paradise to the +fellows from the Schwarzwald, and the Dutchman Michel their king. For +a long time the timber merchants were ignorant of this proceeding, and +before people were aware, money, swearing, corrupt manners, drunkenness +and gambling were imported from Holland. + +“When the thing became known, Michel was nowhere to be found, but he +was not dead; for a hundred years he has been haunting the forest, and +is said to have helped many in becoming rich at the cost of their souls +of course: more I will not say. This much, however, is certain, that +to the present day, in boisterous nights, he finds out the finest pines +in the Tannenbühl where people are not to fell wood; and my father has +seen him break off one of four feet diameter, as he would break a reed. +Such trees he gives to those who turn from the right path and go to +him; at midnight they bring their rafts to the water and he goes to +Holland with them. If I were lord and king in Holland, I would have +him shot with grape, for all the ships that have but a single beam of +Michel’s, must go to the bottom. Hence it is that we hear of so many +shipwrecks; and if it were not so, how could a beautiful, strong ship +as large as a church, be sunk. But as often as Michel fells a pine in +the forest during a boisterous night, one of his old ones starts from +its joints, the water enters, and the ship is lost, men and all. So +far goes the legend of the Dutchman Michel; and true it is that all the +evil in the Schwarzwald dates from him. Oh! he can make one rich,” +added the old man mysteriously; “but I would have nothing from him; I +would at no price be in the shoes of fat Hesekiel and the long +Schlurker. The king of the ballroom, too, is said to have made himself +over to him.” + +The storm had abated during the narrative of the old man; the girls +timidly lighted their lamps and retired, while the men put a sackful of +leaves upon the bench by the stove as a pillow for Peter Munk, and +wished him good night. + +Never in his life had Peter such heavy dreams as during this night; +sometimes he fancied the dark gigantic Michel was tearing the window +open and reaching in with his monstrous long arm a purse full of gold +pieces, which jingled clearly and loudly as he shook them; at another +time he saw the little friendly glass-mannikin riding upon a huge green +bottle about the room, and thought he heard again the same hoarse +laughter as in the Tannenbühl; again something hummed into his left ear +the following verse: + + “In Holland I wot, + There’s gold to be got, + Small price for a lot, + Who would have it not?” + + +Again he heard in his right ear the song of the Schatzhauser in the +green forest, and a soft voice whispered to him, “Stupid Coal-Peter, +stupid Peter Munk you cannot find a rhyme with ‘place,’ and yet are +born on a Sunday at twelve o’clock precisely. Rhyme, dull Peter, +rhyme!” + +He groaned, he wearied himself to find a rhyme, but never having made +one in his life, his trouble in his dream was fruitless. When he awoke +the next morning with the first dawn, his dream seemed strange to him; +he sat down at the table with his arms crossed, and meditated upon the +whisperings that were still ringing in his ears. He said to himself, +“Rhyme, stupid Peter, rhyme,” knocking his forehead with his finger, +but no rhyme would come. While still sitting in this mood, looking +gloomily down before him and thinking of a rhyme with “place,” he heard +three men passing outside and going into the forest, one of whom was +singing, + + “I stood upon the brightest place, + I gazed upon the plain, + And then--oh then--I saw that face, + I never saw again.” + + +These words flashed like lightning through Peter’s ear and hastily +starting up, he rushed out of the house, thinking he was mistaken in +what he had heard, ran after the three fellows and seized, suddenly and +rudely, the singer by the arm, crying at the same time, “Stop, friend, +what was it you rhymed with ‘place?’ Do me the favour to tell me what +you were singing.” + +“What possesses you, fellow?” replied the Schwarzwälder. “I may sing +what I like; let go my arm, or----” + +“No, you shall tell me what you were singing,” shouted Peter, almost +beside himself, clutching him more tightly at the same time. When the +other two saw this, they were not long in falling foul upon poor Peter +with their large fists, and belabouring him till the pain made him +release the third, and he sank exhausted upon his knees. “Now you have +your due,” said they, laughing, “and mark you, madcap, never again stop +people like us upon the highway.” + +“Woe is me!” replied Peter with a sigh, “I shall certainly recollect +it. But now that I have had the blows, you will oblige me by telling +me plainly what he was singing.” To this they laughed again and mocked +him; but the one who had sung repeated the song to him, after which +they went away laughing and singing. + +“Face,” then said the poor belaboured Peter as he got up slowly; “will +rhyme with ‘place,’ now glass-mannikin, I will have another word with +you.” He went into the hut, took his hat and long stick, bid farewell +to the inmates, and commenced his way back to the Tannenbühl. Being +under the necessity of inventing a verse, he proceeded slowly and +thoughtfully on his way; at length, when he was already within the +precincts of the Tannenbühl, and the trees became higher and closer, he +found his verse, and for joy cut a caper in the air. All at once he +saw coming from behind the trees a gigantic man dressed like a +raftsman, who held in his hand a pole as large as the mast of a ship. +Peter Munk’s knees almost gave way under him, when he saw him slowly +striding by his side, thinking he was no other than the Dutchman +Michel. Still the terrible figure kept silence, and Peter cast a side +glance at him from time to time. He was full a head taller than the +biggest man Peter had even seen; his face expressed neither youth nor +old age, but was full of furrows and wrinkles; he wore a jacket of +linen, and the enormous boots being drawn above his leather breeches, +were well known to Peter from hearsay. + +“What are you doing in the Tannenbühl, Peter Munk?” asked the wood king +at length, in a deep, roaring voice. + +“Good morning, countryman,” replied Peter, wishing to show himself +undaunted, but trembling violently all the while. + +“Peter Munk,” replied Michel, casting a piercing, terrible glance at +him, “your way does not lie through this grove.” + +“True, it does not exactly,” said Peter; “but being a hot day, I +thought it would be cooler here.” + +“Do not lie, Peter,” cried Michel, in a thundering voice, “or I strike +you to the ground with this pole; think you I have not seen you begging +of the little one?” he added mildly. “Come, come, confess it was a +silly trick, and it is well you did not know the verse; for the little +fellow is a skinflint, giving but little; and he to whom he gives is +never again cheerful in his life. Peter, you are but a poor fool and I +pity you in my soul; you, such a brisk handsome fellow, surely could do +something better in the world, than make charcoal. While others lavish +big thalers and ducats, you can scarcely spend a few pence; ’tis a +wretched life.” + +“You are right, it is truly a wretched life.” + +“Well,” continued Michel, “I will not stand upon trifles, you would not +be the first honest good fellow whom I have assisted at a pinch. Tell +me, how many hundred thalers do you want for the present?” shaking the +money in his huge pocket, as he said this, so that it jingled just as +Peter had heard it in his dream. But Peter’s heart felt a kind of +painful convulsion at these words, and he was cold and hot alternately; +for Michel did not look as if he would give away money out of charity, +without asking any thing in return. The old man’s mysterious words +about rich people occurred to him, and urged by an inexplicable anxiety +and fear, he cried “Much obliged to you, sir, but I will have nothing +to do with you and know you well,” and at the same time he began to run +as fast as he could. The wood spirit, however, strode by his side with +immense steps, murmuring and threatening “You will yet repent it, +Peter, it is written on your forehead and to be read in your eyes that +you will not escape me. Do not run so fast, listen only to a single +rational word; there is my boundary already.” But Peter, hearing this +and seeing at a little distance before him a small ditch, hastened the +more to pass this boundary, so that Michel was obliged at length to run +faster, cursing and threatening while pursuing him. With a desperate +leap Peter cleared the ditch, for he saw that the Wood-spirit was +raising his pole to dash it upon him; having fortunately reached the +other side, he heard the pole shatter to pieces in the air as if +against an invisible wall, and a long piece fell down at his feet. + +He picked it up in triumph to throw it at the rude Michel; but in an +instant he felt the piece of wood move in his hand, and, to his horror, +perceived that he held an enormous serpent, which was raising itself up +towards his face with its venomous tongue and glistening eyes. He let +go his hold, but it had already twisted itself tight round his arm and +came still closer to his face with its vibrating head; at this instant, +however, an immense black cock rushed down, seized the head of the +serpent with its beak, and carried it up in the air. Michel, who had +observed all this from the other side of the ditch, howled, cried, and +raved when he saw the serpent carried away by one more powerful than +himself. + +Exhausted and trembling, Peter continued his way; the path became +steeper, the country wilder, and soon he found himself before the large +pine. He again made a bow to the invisible glass-mannikin, as he had +done the day before, and said, + + “Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine, + Hundreds of years are surely thine, + Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling place, + Those born on Sunday see thy face.” + + +“You have not quite hit it,” said a delicate fine voice near him, “but +as it is you, Peter, I will not be particular.” Astonished he looked +round, and lo! under a beautiful pine there sat a little old man in a +black jacket, red stockings, and a large hat on his head. He had a +tiny affable face and a little beard as fine as a spider’s web; and +strange to see, he was smoking a pipe of blue glass. Nay, Peter +observed to his astonishment, on coming nearer, that the clothes, +shoes, and hat of the little man were also of coloured glass, which was +as flexible as if it were still hot, bending like cloth to every motion +of the little man. + +“You have met the lubber Michel, the Dutchman?” asked the little man, +laughing strangely between each word. “He wished to frighten you +terribly; but I have got his magic cudgel, which he shall never have +again.” + +“Yes, Mr. Schatzhauser,” replied Peter, with a profound bow, “I was +terribly frightened. But I suppose the black cock was yourself, and I +am much obliged to you for killing the serpent. The object of my visit +to you, however, is to ask your advice; I am in very poor +circumstances, for charcoal-burning is not a profitable trade; and +being still young I should think I might be made something better, +seeing so often as I do how other people have thriven in a short time; +I need only mention Hezekiel, and the king of the ball-room, who have +money like dirt.” + +“Peter,” said the little man, gravely, blowing the smoke of his pipe a +long way off, “don’t talk to me of these men. What good have they from +being apparently happy for a few years here, and the more unhappy for +it afterwards? You must not despise your trade; your father and +grandfather were honest people, Peter Munk, and they carried on the +same trade. Let me not suppose it is love of idleness that brings you +to me.” + +Peter was startled at the gravity of the little man, and blushed. “No, +Mr. Schatzhauser,” said he; “idleness is the root of every vice, but +you cannot blame me, if another condition pleases me better than my +own. A charcoal-burner is, in truth, a very mean personage in this +world; the glass manufacturer, the raftsmen, and clock-makers, are +people much more looked upon.” + +“Pride will have a fall,” answered the little man of the pine wood, +rather more kindly. “What a singular race you are, you men! It +is but rarely that one is contented with the condition in which +he was born and bred, and I would lay a wager that if you were a +glass-manufacturer, you would wish to be a timber-merchant, and if you +were a timber-merchant you would take a fancy to the ranger’s place, or +the residence of the bailiff. But no matter for that; if you promise +to work hard, I will get you something better to do. It is my practice +to grant three wishes to those born on a Sunday, who know how to find +me out. The first two are quite free from any condition, the third I +may refuse, should it be a foolish one. Now, therefore, Peter, say your +wishes; but mind you wish something good and useful.” + +“Hurrah!” shouted Peter; “you are a capital glass-mannikin, and justly +do people call you the treasure-keeper, for treasures seem to be +plentiful with you. Well then, since I may wish what my heart desires, +my first wish is that I may be able to dance better than the king of +the ball-room, and to have always as much money in my pocket as fat +Hezekiel.” + +“You fool!” replied the little man, angrily, “what a paltry wish is +this, to be able to dance well and to have money for gambling. Are you +not ashamed of this silly wish, you blockish Peter? Would you cheat +yourself out of good fortune? What good will you and your poor mother +reap from your dancing well? What use will money be to you, which +according to your wish is only for the public-house, thereto be spent +like that of the wretched king of the ball-room? And then you will +have nothing for the whole week and starve. Another wish is now left +free to you; but have a care to desire something more rational.” + +Peter scratched himself behind his ears, and said, after some +hesitation, “Now I wish the finest and richest glass-factory in the +Schwarzwald, with every thing appertaining to it, and money to carry it +on.” + +“Is that all?” asked the little man, with a look of anxiety; “is there +nothing else, Peter?” + +“Why you might add a horse and chaise.” + +“Oh, you stupid Peter!” cried the little man, while he flung his glass +pipe against a thick pine so that it broke in a hundred pieces. +“Horses? a carriage? Sense, I tell you, sense--common sense and +judgment you ought to have wished, but not a horse and chaise. Come, +come, don’t be so sad, we will do all we can to make it turn out for +the best, even as it is, for the second wish is on the whole not +altogether foolish. A good glass-factory will support its man; but you +ought to have wished judgment and sense in addition; a horse and chaise +would come as a matter of course.” + +“But, Mr. Schatzhauser,” replied Peter, “I have another wish left, and +might very well wish sense, if I am so much in need of it, as you seem +to think.” + +“Say no more about it. You will get involved in many an embarrassment +yet, when you will be glad of being at liberty to obtain your third +wish. And now proceed on your way home.” Drawing a small bag from his +pocket, he said: “There are two thousand florins; let that be enough, +and don’t come again asking for money, for, if you do, I must hang you +up to the highest pine. That is the way I have always acted, ever +since I have lived in the forest. Three days ago old Winkfritz died, +who had a large glass-factory in the Unterwald. Go there to-morrow +morning, and make a fair offer for it. Look well to yourself. Be +prudent and be industrious; I will come to see you from time to time, +and assist you with word and deed, since you have not wished for common +sense. But I must repeat it seriously; your first wish was evil. +Guard against frequenting the public-house, Peter, no one who did so, +ever prospered long.” The little man, while thus talking to him, had +taken a new pipe, of the most beautiful glass, from his pocket, charged +it with dry fir-apples, and stuck it into his little toothless mouth. +Then drawing out a large burning-glass, he stepped into the sun and +lighted it. When he had done this, he kindly offered his hand to +Peter, added a few more words of salutary advice which he might carry +on his way, puffed and blew still faster, and finally disappeared in a +cloud of smoke, which smelled of genuine Dutch canaster, and, slowly +curling upwards, vanished amidst the tops of the pines. + +On his arrival home, Peter found his mother in great anxiety about him, +for the good dame thought in reality her son had been drawn among the +recruits. He, however, was in great glee and full of hope, and related +to her how he had met with a good friend in the forest, who had +advanced him money to begin another trade. Although his mother had +been living for thirty years in a charcoal-burner’s hut, and was as +much accustomed to the sight of sooty people, as any miller’s wife is +to the floury face of her husband; yet, as soon as her Peter showed her +a more splendid lot, she was vain enough to despise her former +condition, and said: “In truth, as the mother of a man who possesses a +glass-manufactory, I shall indeed be something different from neighbour +Kate and Betsy, and shall in future sit more consequentially at church +among the people of quality.” Her son soon came to terms with the heir +of the glass manufactory. He kept the workmen he found, and made them +work day and night at manufacturing glass. At first he was well enough +pleased with his new trade; he was in the habit of walking leisurely +into the factory, striding up and down with an air of consequence and +with his hands in his pockets, looking now in one corner, now in +another, and talking about various things at which his workmen often +used to laugh heartily. His chief delight, however, was to see the +glass blown, when he would often set to work himself, and form the +strangest figures of the soft mass. But he soon took a dislike to the +work; first came only for an hour in the day, then only every other +day, and finally only once a week, so that his workmen did just what +they liked. All this proceeded from his frequenting the public-house. +The Sunday after he had come back from the Tannenbühl he went to the +public-house, and who should be jumping there already but the king of +the ball-room; fat Hezekiel also was already sitting by a quart pot, +playing at dice for crown-pieces. Now Peter quickly put his hand into +his pocket to feel whether the glass-mannikin had been true to his +word, and lo! his pockets were stuffed full of silver and gold. He +also felt an itching and twitching in his legs, as if they wished to +dance and caper. When the first dance was over, he took his place with +his partner at the top next to the “king of the ball-room;” and if the +latter jumped three feet high, Peter jumped four; if he made fantastic +and graceful steps, Peter twined and twisted his legs in such a manner +that all the spectators were utterly amazed with delight and +admiration. But when it was rumoured in the dancing-room that Peter +had bought a glass manufactory, and when people saw that Peter, as +often as he passed the musicians, threw a six-batzner piece to them, +there was no end of astonishment. Some thought he had found a treasure +in the forest, others were of opinion that he had succeeded to some +fortune, but all respected him now, and considered him a made man, +simply because he had plenty of money. Indeed that very evening he +lost twenty florins at play, and yet his pockets jingled and tingled as +if there were a hundred thalers in them. + +When Peter saw how much respected he was, he could no longer contain +himself with joy and pride. He threw away handfuls of money and +distributed it profusely among the poor, knowing full well as he did +how poverty had formerly pinched him. The feats of the king of the +ball-room were completely eclipsed by those of the new dancer, and +Peter was surnamed the “emperor of the ball-room.” The most daring +gamblers did not stake so much as he did on a Sunday, neither did they, +however, lose so much; but then, the more he lost, the more he won. +This was exactly what he had demanded from the glass-mannikin; for he +had wished he might always have as much money in his pocket as fat +Hezekiel, and it was to this very man he lost his money. If he lost +twenty or thirty florins at a stroke, they were immediately replaced in +his own pocket, as soon as Hezekiel pocketed them. By degrees he +carried his revelling and gambling further than the worst fellows in +the Schwarzwald, and he was oftener called “gambling Peter” than +“emperor of the ball-room,” since he now gambled almost all the week +days. In consequence of his imprudence, his glass manufactory +gradually fell off. He had manufactured as much as ever could be made, +but he had failed to purchase, together with the factory, the secret of +disposing of it most profitably. At length it accumulated to such a +degree that he did not know what to do with it, and sold it for +half-price to itinerant dealers in order to pay his workmen. + +Walking homewards one evening from the public house, he could not, in +spite of the quantity of wine he had drunk to make himself merry, help +thinking with terror and grief of the decline of his fortune. While +engaged in these reflections, he all at once perceived some one walking +by his side. He looked round, and behold it was the glass-mannikin. +At the sight of him he fell into a violent passion, protested solemnly, +and swore that the little man was the cause of all his misfortune. +“What am I now to do with the horse and chaise?” he cried; “of what use +is the manufactory and all the glass to me? Even when I was merely a +wretched charcoal-burner, I lived more happily, and had no cares. Now +I know not when the bailiff may come to value my goods and chattels, +and seize all for debt.” + +“Indeed?” replied the glass-mannikin, “indeed? I am then the cause of +your being unfortunate. Is that your gratitude for my benefits? Who +bade you wish so foolishly? A glass-manufacturer you wished to be, and +you did not know where to sell your glass! Did I not tell you to be +cautious in what you wished? Common sense, Peter, and prudence, you +wanted.” + +“A fig for your sense and prudence,” cried Peter; “I am as shrewd a +fellow as any one, and will prove it to you, glass-mannikin,” seizing +him rudely by the collar as he spoke these words, and crying, “have I +now got you, Schatzhauser? Now I will tell you my third wish, which +you shall grant me. I’ll have instantly, on the spot, two hundred +thousand hard thalers and a house. Woe is me!” he cried, suddenly +shaking his hand, for the little man of the wood had changed himself +into red-hot glass, and burned in his hand like bright fire. Nothing +more was to be seen of him. + +For several days his swollen hand reminded him of his ingratitude and +folly. Soon, however, he silenced his conscience, saying: “Should they +sell my glass, manufactory and all, still fat Hezekiel is certain to +me; and as long as he has money on a Sunday, I cannot want.” + +“Very true, Peter! But, if he has none?” And so it happened one day, +and it proved a singular example in arithmetic. For he came one Sunday +in his chaise to the inn, and at once all the people popped their heads +out of the windows, one saying, “There comes gambling Peter;” a second +saying, “Yes, there is the emperor of the ball-room, the wealthy +glass-manufacturer;” while a third shook his head, saying, “It is all +very well with his wealth, but people talk a great deal about his +debts, and somebody in town has said that the bailiff will not wait +much longer before he distrains upon him.” + +At this moment the wealthy Peter saluted the guests at the windows, in +a haughty and grave manner, descended from his chaise, and cried: “Good +evening, mine Host of the Sun. Is fat Hezekiel here?” + +To this question a deep voice answered from within: “Only come in, +Peter; your place is kept for you, we are all here, at the cards +already.” + +Peter entering the parlour, immediately put his hand into his pocket, +and perceived, by its being quite full, that Hezekiel must be +plentifully supplied. He sat down at the table among the others and +played, losing and winning alternately; thus they kept playing till +night, when all sober people went home. After having continued for +some time by candle-light, two of the gamblers said: “Now it is enough, +and we must go home to our wives and children.” + +But Peter challenged Hezekiel to remain. The latter was unwilling, but +said, after a while, “Be it as you wish; I will count my money, and +then we’ll play dice at five florins the stake, for any thing lower is, +after all, but child’s play.” He drew his purse, and, after counting, +found he had a hundred florins left; now Peter knew how much he himself +had left, without counting first. But if Hezekiel had before won, he +now lost stake after stake, and swore most awfully. If he cast a +_pasch_, Peter immediately cast one likewise, and always two points +higher. At length he put down the last five florins on the table, +saying, “Once more; and if I lose this stake also, yet I will not leave +off; you will then lend me some of the money you have won now, Peter; +one honest fellow helps the other.” + +“As much as you like, even if it were a hundred florins,” replied +Peter, joyful at his gain, and fat Hezekiel rattled the dice and threw +up fifteen; “Pasch!” he exclaimed, “now we’ll see!” But Peter threw up +eighteen, and, at this moment, a hoarse, well-known voice said behind +him, “So! that was the last.” + +He looked round, and behind him stood the gigantic figure of Michel the +Dutchman. Terrified, he dropped the money he had already taken up. +But fat Hezekiel, not seeing Michel, demanded that Peter should advance +him ten florins for playing. As if in a dream Peter hastily put his +hand into his pocket, but there was no money; he searched in the other +pocket, but in vain; he turned his coat inside out, not a farthing, +however, fell out; and at this instant he first recollected his first +wish; viz., to have always as much money in his pocket as fat Hezekiel. +All had now vanished like smoke. + +The host and Hezekiel looked at him with astonishment as he still +searched for and could not find his money; they would not believe that +he had no more left; but when they at length searched his pockets, +without finding any thing, they were enraged, swearing that gambling +Peter was an evil wizard, and had wished away all the money he had won +home to his own house. Peter defended himself stoutly, but appearances +were against him. Hezekiel protested he would tell this shocking story +to all the people in the Schwarzwald, and the host vowed he would, the +following morning early go into the town and inform against Peter as a +sorcerer, adding that he had no doubt of his being burnt alive. Upon +this they fell furiously upon him, tore off his coat, and kicked him +out of doors. + +Not one star was twinkling in the sky to lighten Peter’s way as he +sneaked sadly towards his home, but still he could distinctly recognise +a dark form striding by his side, which at length said, “It is all over +with you, Peter Munk; all your splendour is at an end, and this I could +have foretold you even at the time when you would not listen to me, but +rather ran to the silly glass dwarf. You now see to what you have come +by disregarding my advice. But try your fortune with me this time, I +have compassion on your fate. No one ever yet repented of applying to +me, and if you don’t mind the walk to the Tannenbühl, I shall be there +all day to-morrow and you may speak to me, if you will call.” Peter +now very clearly perceived who was speaking to him, but feeling a +sensation of awe, he made no answer and ran towards home. + +When, on the Monday morning, he came to his factory, he not only found +his workmen, but also other people whom no one likes to see; viz., the +bailiff and three beadles. The bailiff wished Peter good morning, +asked him how he had slept, and then took from his pocket a long list +of Peter’s creditors, saying, with a stern look, “Can you pay or not? +Be short, for I have no time to lose, and you know it is full three +leagues to the prison.” Peter in despair confessed he had nothing +left, telling the bailiff he might value all the premises, horses, and +carts. But while they went about examining and valuing the things, +Peter said to himself, “Well, it is but a short way to the Tannenbühl, +and as the _little_ man has not helped me, I will now try for once the +_big_ man.” He ran towards the Tannenbühl as fast as if the beadles +were at his heels. On passing the spot where the glass-mannikin had +first spoken to him, he felt as if an invisible hand were stopping him, +but he tore himself away and ran onwards till he came to the boundary +which he had well marked. Scarcely had he, almost out of breath, +called, “Dutch Michel, Mr. Dutch Michel!” than suddenly the gigantic +raftsman with his pole stood before him. + +“Have you come then?” said the latter, laughing. “Were they going to +fleece you and sell you to your creditors? Well, be easy, all your +sorrow comes, as I have always said, from the little glass-mannikin, +the Separatist and Pietist. When one gives, one ought to give right +plentifully and not like that skinflint. But come,” he continued, +turning towards the forest, “follow me to my house, there we’ll see +whether we can strike a bargain.” + +“Strike a bargain?” thought Peter. “What can he want of me, what can I +sell to him? Am I perhaps to serve him, or what is it that he can +want?” They went at first up-hill over a steep forest path, when all +at once they stopped at a dark, deep, and almost perpendicular ravine. +Michel leaped down as easily as he would go down marble steps; but +Peter almost fell into a fit when he saw him below, rising up like a +church steeple reaching him an arm as long as a scaffolding pole with a +hand at the end as broad as the table in the ale house, and calling in +a voice which sounded like the deep tones of a death bell, “Set +yourself boldly on my hand, hold fast by the fingers and you will not +fall off.” Peter, trembling, did as he was ordered, sat down upon his +hand and held himself fast by the thumb of the giant. + +They now went down a long way and very deep, yet, to Peter’s +astonishment, it did not grow darker; on the contrary, the daylight +seemed rather to increase in the chasm, and it was sometime before +Peter’s eyes could bear it. Michel’s stature became smaller as Peter +came lower down, and he stood now in his former size before a house +just like those of the wealthy peasants of the Schwarzwald. The room +into which Peter was led differed in nothing but its appearance of +solitariness from those of other people. The wooden clock, the stove +of Dutch tiles, the broad benches and utensils on the shelves were the +same as anywhere else. Michel told him to sit down at the large table, +then went out of the room and returned with a pitcher of wine and +glasses. Having filled these, they now began a conversation, and Dutch +Michel expatiated on the pleasures of the world, talked of foreign +countries, fine cities and rivers, so that Peter, at length, feeling a +yearning after such sights, candidly told Michel his wish. + +“If you had courage and strength in your body to undertake any thing, +could a few palpitations of your stupid heart make you tremble; and the +offences against honor, or misfortunes, why should a rational fellow +care, for either? Did you feel it in your head when they but lately +called you a cheat and a scoundrel? Or did it give you a pain in your +stomach, when the bailiff came to eject you from your house? Tell me, +where was it you felt pain?” + +“In my heart,” replied Peter, putting his hand on his beating breast, +for he felt as if his heart was anxiously turning within him. + +“Excuse me for saying so, but you have thrown away many hundred florins +on vile beggars and other rabble; what has it profited you? They have +wished you blessings and health for it; well, have you grown the +healthier for that? For half that money you might have kept a +physician. A blessing, a fine blessing forsooth, when one is +distrained upon and ejected! And what was it that urged you to put +your hand into your pocket, as often as a beggar held out his broken +hat?--Why your heart again, and ever your heart, neither your eyes, nor +your tongue, nor your arms, nor your legs, but your heart; you have, as +the proverb truly says, taken too much to heart.” + +“But how can we accustom ourselves to act otherwise? I take, at this +moment, every possible pains to suppress it, and yet my heart +palpitates and pains me.” + +“You, indeed, poor fellow!” cried Michel, laughing; “you can do nothing +against it; but give me this scarcely palpitating thing, and you will +see how comfortable you will then feel.” + +“My heart to you?” cried Peter, horrified. “Why, then, I must die on +the spot! Never!” + +“Yes, if one of your surgeons would operate upon you and take out your +heart, you must indeed die; but with me it is a different thing; just +come in here and convince yourself.” + +Rising at these words, he opened the door of a chamber and took Peter +in. On stepping over the threshold, his heart contracted convulsively, +but he minded it not, for the sight that presented itself was singular +and surprising. On several shelves glasses were standing, filled with +a transparent liquid, and each contained a heart. All were labelled +with names which Peter read with curiosity; there was the heart of the +bailiff in F., that of fat Hezekiel, that of the “king of the +ball-room,” that of the ranger; there were the hearts of six usurious +corn-merchants, of eight recruiting officers, of three money-brokers; +in short, it was a collection of the most respectable hearts twenty +leagues around. + +“Look!” said Dutch Michel, “all these have shaken off the anxieties and +cares of life; none of these hearts any longer beat anxiously and +uneasily, and their former owners feel happy now they have got rid of +the troublesome guest.” + +“But what do they now carry in their breasts instead?” asked Peter, +whose head was nearly swimming at what he beheld. + +“_This_,” replied he, taking out of a small drawer, and presenting to +him--a heart of stone. + +“Indeed!” said Peter, who could not prevent a cold shuddering coming +over him. “A heart of marble? But, tell me, Mr. Michel, such a heart +must be very cold in one’s breast.” + +“True, but very agreeably cool. Why should a heart be warm? For in +winter its warmth is of little use, and good strong Kirschwasser does +more than a warm heart, and in summer when all is hot and sultry, you +can’t think how cooling such a heart is. And, as before said, such a +heart feels neither anxiety nor terror, neither foolish compassion nor +other grief.” + +“And that is all you can offer me,” asked Peter, indignantly, “I looked +for money and you are going to give me a stone.” + +“Well! an hundred thousand florins, methinks, would suffice you for the +present. If you employ it properly, you may soon make it a million.” + +“An hundred thousand!” exclaimed the poor coal-burner, joyfully. +“Well, don’t beat so vehemently in my bosom, we shall soon have done +with one another. Agreed, Michel, give me the stone, and the money, +and the alarum you may take out of its case.” + +“I always thought you were a reasonable fellow,” replied Michel, with a +friendly smile; “come, let us drink another glass, and then I will pay +you the money.” + +They went back to the room and sat down again to the wine, drinking one +glass after another till Peter fell into a profound sleep. + +He was awakened by the cheerful blast of a post-boy’s bugle, and found +himself sitting in a handsome carriage, driving along on a wide road. +On putting his head out he saw in the airy distance the Schwarzwald +lying behind him. At first he could scarcely believe that it was his +own self sitting in the carriage, for even his clothes were different +from those he had worn the day before; but still he had such a distinct +recollection that, giving up at length all these reflections, he +exclaimed, “I am Peter and no other, that is certain.” + +He was astonished that he could no longer, in the slightest degree, +feel melancholy now he for the first time departed from his quiet home +and the forests where he had lived so long. He could not even press a +tear out of his eyes or utter a sigh, when he thought of his mother, +who must now feel helpless and wretched; for he was indifferent to +every thing: “Well,” he said, “tears and sighs, yearning for home and +sadness proceed indeed from the heart, but thanks to Dutch Michel, mine +is of stone and cold.” Putting his hand upon his breast, he felt all +quiet and no emotion. “If Michel,” said he, beginning to search the +carriage, “keeps his word as well with respect to the hundred thousand +florins as he does with the heart, I shall be very glad.” In his +search he found articles of dress of every description he could wish, +but no money. At length, however, he discovered a pocket containing +many thousand thalers in gold, and bills on large houses in all the +great cities. “Now I have what I want,” thought he, squeezed himself +into the corner of the carriage and went into the wide world. + +For two years he travelled about in the world, looked from his carriage +to the right and left up the houses, but whenever he alighted he looked +at nothing except the sign of the hotel, and then ran about the town to +see the finest curiosities. But nothing gladdened him, no pictures, no +building, no music, no dancing, nor any thing else had any interest +for, or excited his stone heart; his eyes and ears were blunted for +every thing beautiful. No enjoyment was left him but that which he +felt in eating and drinking and sleep; and thus he lived running +through the world without any object, eating for amusement and sleeping +from _ennui_. From time to time he indeed remembered that he had been +more cheerful and happier, when he was poor and obliged to work for a +livelihood. Then he was delighted by every beautiful prospect in the +valley, by music and song, then he had for hours looked in joyful +expectation towards the frugal meal which his mother was to bring him +to the kiln. + +When thus reflecting on the past, it seemed very strange to him, that +now he could not even laugh, while formerly he had laughed at the +slightest joke. When others laughed, he only distorted his mouth out +of politeness, but his heart did not sympathise with the smile. He +felt he was indeed exceedingly tranquil, but yet not contented. It was +not a yearning after home, nor was it sadness, but a void, desolate +feeling, satiety and a joyless life that at last urged him to his home. + +When, after leaving Strasburg, he beheld the dark forest of his native +country; when for the first time he again saw the robust figures, the +friendly and open countenances of the Schwarzwälder; when the homely, +strong, and deep, but harmonious sounds struck upon his ear, he quickly +put his hand upon his heart, for his blood flowed faster, thinking he +must rejoice and weep at the same time; but how could he be so foolish? +he had a heart of stone, and stones are dead and can neither smile nor +weep. + +His first walk was to Michel who received him with his former kindness. +“Michel,” said he, “I have now travelled and seen every thing, but all +is dull stuff and I have only found _ennui_. The stone I carry about +with me in my breast, protects me against many things; I never get +angry, am never sad, but neither do I ever feel joyful, and it seems as +if I was only half alive. Can you not infuse a little more life into +my stone heart, or rather, give me back my former heart? During +five-and-twenty years I had become quite accustomed to it, and though +it sometimes did a foolish thing, yet it was, after all, a merry and +cheerful heart.” + +The sylvan spirit laughed grimly and sarcastically at this, answering, +“When once you are dead, Peter Munk, it shall not be withheld; then you +shall have back your soft, susceptible heart, and may then feel +whatever comes, whether joy or sorrow. But here, on this side of the +grave, it can never be yours again. Travelled you have indeed, Peter, +but in the way you lived, your travelling could afford you no +satisfaction. Settle now somewhere in the world, build a house, marry, +and employ your capital; you wanted nothing but occupation; being idle, +you felt _ennui_, and now you lay all the blame to this innocent +heart.” Peter saw that Michel was right with respect to idleness, and +therefore proposed to himself to become richer and richer. Michel gave +him another hundred thousand florins, and they parted as good friends. + +The report soon spread in Schwarzwald that “Coal Peter,” or “gambling +Peter” had returned, and was much richer than before. It was here as +it always is. When he was a beggar he was kicked out of the inn, but +now he had come back wealthy, all shook him by the hand when he entered +on the Sunday afternoon, praised his horse, asked about his journey, +and when he began playing for hard dollars with fat Hezekiel, he stood +as high in their estimation as ever before. He no longer followed the +trade of glass manufacturer, but the timber trade, though that only in +appearance, his chief business being in corn and money transactions. +Half the people of the Schwarzwald became by degrees his debtors, and +he lent money only at ten per cent., or sold corn to the poor who, not +being able to pay ready money, had to purchase it at three times its +value. With the bailiff he now stood on a footing of the closest +friendship, and if any one failed paying Mr. Peter Munk on the very day +the money was due, the bailiff with his beadles came, valued house and +property, sold all instantly, and drove father, mother, and child, out +into the forest. This became at first rather troublesome to Peter, for +the poor outcasts besieged his doors in troops, the men imploring +indulgence, the women trying to move his stony heart, and the children +moaning for a piece of bread. But getting a couple of large mastiffs, +he soon put an end to this cat’s music, as he used to call it, for he +whistled and set them on the beggars, who dispersed screaming. But the +most troublesome person to him was “the old woman,” who, however, was +no other than Frau Munk, Peter’s mother. She had been reduced to great +poverty and distress, when her house and all was sold, and her son, on +returning wealthy, had troubled himself no more about her. So she came +sometimes before his house, supporting herself on a stick, as she was +aged, weak, and infirm; but she no more ventured to go in, as he had on +one occasion driven her out; and she was much grieved at being obliged +to prolong her existence by the bounties of other people, while her own +son might have prepared for her a comfortable old age. But his cold +heart never was moved by the sight of the pale face and well known +features, by the imploring looks, outstretched withered hands and +decaying frame. If on a Saturday she knocked at the door, he put his +hand grumbling into his pocket for a six-batzen-piece, wrapped it in a +bit of paper and sent it out by a servant. He heard her tremulous +voice when she thanked him, and wished him a blessing in this world, he +heard her crawl away coughing from the door, but he thought of nothing, +except that he had again spent six-batzen for nothing. + +At length Peter took it into his head to marry. He knew that every +father in the Schwarzwald would gladly give him his daughter, but he +was fastidious in his choice, for he wished that every body should +praise his good fortune and understanding in matrimony as well as in +other matters. He therefore rode about the whole forest, looking out +in every direction, but none of the pretty Schwarzwülder girls seemed +beautiful enough for him. Having finally looked out in vain for the +most beautiful at all the dancing-rooms, he was one day told the most +beautiful and most virtuous girl in the whole forest was the daughter +of a poor wood-cutter. He heard she lived quiet and retired, was +industrious and managed her father’s household well, and that she was +never seen at a dancing-room, not even at Whitsuntide or the +Kirchweihfest.[2] When Peter heard of this wonder of the Schwarzwald, +he determined to court her, and, having inquired where the hut was, +rode there. The father of the beautiful Elizabeth received the great +gentleman with astonishment, but was still more amazed when he heard it +was the rich Herr Peter who wished to become his son-in-law. Thinking +all his cares and poverty would now be at an end, he did not hesitate +long in giving his consent, without even asking the beautiful +Elizabeth, and the good child was so dutiful that she became Frau Peter +Munk without opposition. + +But the poor girl did not find the happiness she had dreamt of. She +believed she understood the management of a house well, but she could +never give satisfaction to Herr Peter; she had compassion on poor +people, and, as her husband was wealthy, thought it no sin to give a +poor woman a penny, or a dram to a poor aged man. This being one day +found out by Peter, he said to her, with angry look and gruff voice, +“Why do you waste my property upon ragamuffins and vagabonds? Have you +brought any thing of your own to the house that you can give away? +With your father’s beggar’s staff you could not warm a soup, and you +lavish my money like a princess. Once more let me find you out, and +you shall feel my hand.” The beautiful Elizabeth wept in her chamber +over the hard heart of her husband, and often wished herself at home in +her father’s poor hut rather than with the rich, but avaricious and +sinful Peter. Alas! had she known that he had a heart of marble and +could neither love her nor any body else, she would not, perhaps, have +wondered. But as often as a beggar now passed while she was sitting +before the door, and drawing his hat off, asked for alms, she shut her +eyes that she might not behold the distress, and closed her hand tight +that she might not put it involuntarily in her pocket and take out a +kreutzer. This caused a report and obtained an ill name for Elizabeth +in the whole forest, and she was said to be even more miserly than +Peter Munk. But one day Frau Elizabeth was again sitting before the +door spinning and humming an air, for she was cheerful because it was +fine weather, and Peter was taking a ride in the country, when a little +old man came along the road, carrying a large heavy bag, and she heard +him panting at a great distance. Sympathising, she looked at him and +thought how cruel it was to place such a heavy burden upon an aged man. + +In the meanwhile the little man came near, tottering and panting, and +sank under the weight of his bag almost down on the ground just as he +came opposite Frau Elizabeth. + +“Oh, have compassion on me, good woman, and give me a drink of water,” +said the little man, “I can go no farther, and must perish from +exhaustion.” + +“But you ought not to carry such heavy loads at your age?” said she. + +“No more I should if I were not obliged to work as carrier from poverty +and to prolong my life,” replied he. “Ah, such rich ladies as you know +not how painful poverty is, and how strengthening a fresh draught in +this hot weather.” + +On hearing this she immediately ran into the house, took a pitcher from +the shelf and filled it with water; but she had only gone a few paces +back to take it to him, when, seeing the little man sit on his bag +miserable and wretched, she felt pity for him, and recollecting that +her husband was from home, she put down the pitcher, took a cup, filled +it with wine, put a loaf of rye bread on it and gave it to the poor old +man. “There,” she said, “a draught of wine will do you more good than +water, as you are very old; but do not drink so hastily, and eat some +bread with it.” + +The little man looked at her in astonishment till the big tears came +into his eyes; he drank and said, “I have grown old, but have seen few +people who were so compassionate and knew how to spend their gifts so +handsomely and cordially as you do, Frau Elizabeth. But you will be +blessed for it on earth; such a heart will not remain unrequited.” + +“No, and she shall have her reward on the spot,” cried a terrible +voice, and looking round they found it was Herr Peter with a face as +red as scarlet. “Even my choicest wine you waste upon beggars, and +give my own cup to the lips of vagabonds? There, take your reward.” +His wife fell prostrate before him and begged his forgiveness, but the +heart of stone knew no pity, and flourishing the whip he held in his +hand he struck her with the ebony handle on her beautiful forehead with +such vehemence, that she sunk lifeless into the arms of the old man. +When he saw what he had done it was almost as if he repented of the +deed immediately; he stooped to see whether there was yet life in her, +but the little man said in a well-known voice, “Spare your trouble, +Peter; she was the most beautiful and lovely flower in the Schwarzwald, +but you have crushed it and never again will see it bloom.” + +Now the blood fled from Peter’s cheek and he said, “It is you then, Mr. +Schatzhauser? well, what is done is done then, and I suppose this was +to happen. But I trust you will not inform against me.” + +“Wretch,” replied the glass-mannikin, “what would it profit me if I +brought your mortal part to the gallows? It is not earthly tribunals +you have to fear, but another and more severe one; for you have sold +your soul to the evil one.” + +“And if I have sold my heart,” cried Peter, “it is no one’s fault but +yours and your deceitful treasures; your malicious spirit brought me to +ruin; you forced me to seek help from another, and upon you lies the +whole responsibility.” He had scarcely uttered these words than the +little man grew enormously tall and broad, his eyes it is said became +as large as soup plates, and his mouth like a heated furnace vomiting +flames. Peter fell upon his knees, and his stone heart did not protect +his limbs from trembling like an aspen leaf. The sylvan spirit seized +him, as if with vultures’ claws, by the nape of the neck, whirled him +round as the storm whirls the dry leaves, and dashed him to the ground +so that his ribs cracked within him. “You worm of dust,” he cried, in +a voice roaring like thunder, “I could crush you if I wished, for you +have trespassed against the lord of the forest; but for the sake of +this dead woman that fed and refreshed me, I give you a week’s respite. +If you do not repent I shall return and crush your bones, and you will +go hence in your sins.” + +It was already evening when some men passing by saw the wealthy Peter +Munk lying on the ground. They turned him over and over to see whether +there was still life in him, but for a long time looked in vain. At +length one of them went into the house, fetched some water and +sprinkled some on his face. Peter fetched a deep sigh and opened his +eyes, looked for a long time around, and asked for his wife Elizabeth, +but no one had seen her. He thanked the men for their assistance, +crawled into his house, searched everywhere, but in vain, and found +what he imagined to be a dream a sad reality. As he was now quite +alone strange thoughts came into his mind; he did not indeed fear any +thing, for his heart was quite cold; but when he thought of the death +of his wife his own forcibly came to his mind, and he reflected how +laden he should go hence--heavily laden with the tears of the poor; +with thousands of the curses of those who could not soften his heart; +with the lamentations of the wretched on whom he had set his dogs; with +the silent despair of his mother; with the blood of the beautiful and +good Elizabeth; and yet he could not even so much as give an account of +her to her poor old father, should he come and ask “Where is my +daughter, your wife?” How then could he give an account to Him--to Him +to whom belong all woods, all lakes, all mountains, and the life of men? + +This tormented him in his dreams at night, and he was awoke every +moment by a sweet voice crying to him “Peter, get a warmer heart!” And +when he was awoke he quickly closed his eyes again, for the voice +uttering this warning to him could be none other but that of his +Elizabeth. The following day he went into the inn to divert his +thoughts, and there met his friend, fat Hezekiel. He sat down by him +and they commenced talking on various topics, of the fine weather, of +war, of taxes, and lastly, also of death, and how such and such a +person had died suddenly. Now Peter asked him what he thought about +death, and how it would be after death. Hezekiel replied, “That the +body was buried, but that the soul went either up to heaven or down to +hell.” + +“Then the heart also is buried?” asked Peter, anxiously. + +“To be sure that also is buried.” + +“But supposing one has no longer a heart?” continued Peter. + +Hezekiel gave him a terrible look at these words. “What do you mean by +that? Do you wish to rally me? Think you I have no heart?” + +“Oh, heart enough, as firm as stone,” replied Peter. + +Hezekiel looked in astonishment at him, glancing round at the same time +to see whether they were overheard, and then said, “Whence do you know +that? Or does your own perhaps no longer beat within your breast?” + +“It beats no longer, at least, not in my breast;” replied Peter Munk. +“But tell me, as you know what I mean, how will it be with our hearts?” + +“Why does that concern you, my good fellow?” answered Hezekiel, +laughing. “Why you have plenty here upon earth, and that is +sufficient. Indeed, the comfort of our cold hearts is that no fear at +such thoughts befals us.” + +“Very true, but still one cannot help thinking of it, and though I know +no fear now, still I well remember how I was terrified at hell when yet +an innocent little boy.” + +“Well, it will not exactly go well with us,” said Hezekiel; “I once +asked a schoolmaster about it, who told me that the hearts are weighed +after death to ascertain the weight of their sins. The light ones +rise, the heavy sink, and methinks our stone hearts will weigh heavy +enough.” + +“Alas, true,” replied Peter; “I often feel uncomfortable that my heart +is so devoid of sympathy, and so indifferent when I think of such +things.” So ended their conversation. + +But the following night Peter again heard the well-known voice +whispering into his ear five or six times, “Peter, get a warmer heart!” +He felt no repentance at having killed his wife, but when he told the +servants that she had gone on a journey, he always thought within +himself, where is she gone to? Six days had thus passed away, and he +still heard the voice at night, and still thought of the sylvan spirit +and his terrible menace; but on the seventh morning, he jumped up from +his couch and cried, “Well, then, I will see whether I can get a warmer +heart, for the cold stone in my breast makes my life only tedious and +desolate.” He quickly put on his best dress, mounted his horse, and +rode towards the Tannenbühl. + +Having arrived at that part where the trees stand thickest, he +dismounted, and went with a quick pace towards the summit of the hill, +and as he stood before the thick pine he repeated the following verse: + + “Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine, + Hundreds of years are surely thine: + Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling place-- + Those born on Sunday see thy face.” + + +The glass-mannikin appeared, not looking friendly and kindly as +formerly, but gloomy and sad; he wore a little coat of black glass, and +a long glass crape hung floating from his hat, and Peter well knew for +whom he mourned. + +“What do you want with me, Peter Munk?” asked he with a stern voice. + +“I have one more wish, Mr. Schatzhauser,” replied Peter, with his look +cast down. + +“Can hearts of stone still wish?” said the former. “You have all your +corrupt mind can need, and I could scarcely fulfil your wish.” + +“But you have promised to grant me three wishes, and one I have still +left.” + +“I can refuse it if it is foolish,” continued the spirit; “but come, +let me hear what you wish.” + +“Well, take the dead stone out of me, and give me a living heart,” said +Peter. + +“Have I made the bargain about the heart with you?” asked the +glass-mannikin. “Am I the Dutch Michel, who gives wealth and cold +hearts? It is of him you must seek to regain your heart.” + +“Alas! he will never give it back,” said Peter. + +“Bad as you are, yet I feel pity for you,” continued the little man, +after some consideration; “and as your wish is not foolish, I cannot at +least refuse my help. Hear then. You can never recover your heart by +force, only by stratagem, but probably you will find it without +difficulty; for Michel will ever be stupid Michel, although he fancies +himself very shrewd. Go straightway to him, and do as I tell you.” He +now instructed Peter fully, and gave him a small cross of pure glass, +saying, “He cannot touch your life and will let you go when you hold +this before him and repeat a prayer. When you have obtained your wish +return to me.” + +Peter took the cross, impressed all his words on his memory, and +started on his way to the Dutchman Michel’s residence; there he called +his name three times and immediately the giant stood before him. + +“You have slain your wife?” he asked, with a grim laugh. “I should +have done the same, she wasted your property on beggars; but you will +be obliged to leave the country for some time; and I suppose you want +money and have come to get it?” + +“You have hit it,” replied Peter; “and pray let it be a large sum, for +it is a long way to America.” + +Michel leading the way they went into his cottage; there he opened a +chest containing much money and took out whole rolls of gold. While he +was counting it on the table Peter said, “You’re a wag, Michel. You +have told me a fib, saying that I had a stone in my breast, and that +you had my heart.” + +“And is it not so then?” asked Michel, astonished. “Do you feel your +heart? Is it not cold as ice? Have you any fear or sorrow? Do you +repent of any thing?” + +“You have only made my heart to cease beating, but I still have it in +my breast, and so has Hezekiel, who told me you had deceived us both. +You are not the man who, unperceived and without danger, could tear the +heart from the breast; it would require witchcraft on your part.” + +“But I assure you,” cried Michel, angrily, “you and Hezekiel and all +the rich people, who have sold themselves to me, have hearts as cold as +yours, and their real hearts I have here in my chamber.” + +“Ah! how glibly you can tell lies,” said Peter, laughing, “you must +tell that to another to be believed; think you I have not seen such +tricks by dozens in my journeys? Your hearts in the chamber are made +of wax; you’re a rich fellow I grant, but you are no magician.” + +Now the giant was enraged and burst open the chamber door, saying, +“Come in and read all the labels and look yonder is Peter Munk’s heart; +do you see how it writhes? Can that too be of wax?” + +“For all that, it is of wax,” replied Peter. “A genuine heart does not +writhe like that. I have mine still in my breast. No! you are no +magician.” + +“But I will prove it to you,” cried the former angrily. “You shall +feel that it is your heart.” He took it, opened Peter’s waistcoat, +took the stone from his breast, and held it up. Then taking the heart, +he breathed on it, and set it carefully in its proper place, and +immediately Peter felt how it beat, and could rejoice again. “How do +you feel now?” asked Michel, smiling. + +“True enough, you were right,” replied Peter, taking carefully the +little cross from his pocket. “I should never have believed such +things could be done.” + +“You see I know something of witchcraft, do I not? But, come, I will +now replace the stone again.” + +“Gently, Herr Michel,” cried Peter, stepping backwards, and holding up +the cross, “mice are caught with bacon, and this time you have been +deceived;” and immediately he began to repeat the prayers that came +into his mind. + +Now Michel became less and less, fell to the ground, and writhed like a +worm, groaning and moaning, and all the hearts round began to beat, and +became convulsed, so that it sounded like a clockmaker’s workshop. + +Peter was terrified, his mind was quite disturbed; he ran from the +house, and, urged by the anguish of the moment, climbed up a steep +rock, for he heard Michel get up, stamping and raving, and denouncing +curses on him. When he reached the top, he ran towards the Tannenbühl; +a dreadful thunder-storm came on; lightning flashed around him, +splitting the trees, but he reached the precincts of the glass-mannikin +in safety. + +His heart beat joyfully--only because it did beat; but now he looked +back with horror on his past life, as he did on the thunderstorm that +was destroying the beautiful forest on his right and left. He thought +of his wife, a beautiful, good woman, whom he had murdered from +avarice; he appeared to himself an outcast from mankind, and wept +bitterly as he reached the hill of the glass-mannikin. + +The Schatzhauser was sitting under a pine-tree, and was smoking a small +pipe; but he looked more serene than before. + +“Why do you weep, Peter?” asked he, “have you not recovered your heart? +Is the cold one still in your breast?” + +“Alas! sir,” sighed Peter, “when I still carried about with me the cold +stony heart, I never wept, my eyes were as dry as the ground in July; +but now my old heart will almost break with what have done. I have +driven my debtors to misery, set the dogs on the sick and poor, and you +yourself know how my whip fell upon her beautiful forehead.” + +“Peter, you were a great sinner,” said the little man. “Money and +idleness corrupted you, until your heart turned to stone, and no longer +knew joy, sorrow, repentance, or compassion. But repentance +reconciles; and if I only knew that you were truly sorry for your past +life, it might yet be in my power to do something for you.” + +“I wish nothing more,” replied Peter, dropping his head sorrowfully. +“It is all over with me, I can no more rejoice in my lifetime; what +shall I do thus alone in the world? My mother will never pardon me for +what I have done to her, and I have perhaps brought her to the grave, +monster that I am! Elizabeth, my wife, too,--rather strike me dead, +Herr Schatzhauser, then my wretched life will end at once.” + +“Well,” replied the little man, “if you wish nothing else, you can have +it, so my axe is at hand.” He quietly took his pipe from his mouth, +knocked the ashes out, and put it into his pocket. Then rising slowly, +he went behind the pines. But Peter sat down weeping in the grass, his +life had no longer any value for him, and he patiently awaited the +deadly blow. After a short time, he heard gentle steps behind him, and +thought, “Now he is coming.” + +“Look up once more, Peter Munk,” cried the little man. He wiped the +tears from his eyes and looked up, and beheld his mother, and Elizabeth +his wife, who kindly gazed on him. Then he jumped up joyfully, saying, +“You are not dead, then, Elizabeth, nor you, mother; and have you +forgiven me?” + +“They will forgive you,” said the glass-mannikin, “because you feel +true repentance, and all shall be forgotten. Go home now, to your +father’s hut, and be a charcoal-burner as before; if you are active and +honest, you will do credit to your trade, and your neighbours will love +and esteem you more than if you possessed ten tons of gold.” Thus +saying, the glass-mannikin left them. The three praised and blessed +him, and went home. + +The splendid house of wealthy Peter stood no longer; it was struck by +lightning, and burnt to the ground, with all its treasures. But they +were not far from his father’s hut, and thither they went, without +caring much for their great loss. But what was their surprise when +they reached the hut; it was changed into a handsome farm-house, and +all in it was simple, but good and cleanly. + +“This is the glass-mannikin’s doing,” cried Peter. + +“How beautiful!” said Frau Elizabeth; “and here I feel more at home +than in the larger house, with many servants.” + +Henceforth Peter Munk became an industrious and honest man. He was +content with what he had, carried on his trade cheerfully, and thus it +was that he became wealthy by his own energy, and respected and beloved +in the whole forest. He no longer quarrelled with his wife, but +honoured his mother, and relieved the poor who came to his door. When, +after twelvemonths, Fran Elizabeth presented him with a beautiful +little boy, Peter went to the Tannenbühl, and repeated the verse as +before. But the glass-mannikin did not show himself. + +“Mr. Schatzhauser,” he cried loudly, “only listen to me. I wish +nothing but to ask you to stand godfather to my little son.” But he +received no answer, and only a short gust of wind rushed through the +pines, and cast a few cones on the grass. + +“Then I will take these as a remembrance, as you will not show +yourself,” cried Peter, and he put them in his pocket, and returned +home. But when he took off his jacket, and his mother turned out the +pockets before putting it away, four large rolls of money fell out; and +when they opened them, they found them all good and new Baden dollars, +and not one counterfeit, and these were the intended godfather’s gift +for little Peter, from the little man in the Tannenbühl. Thus they +lived on, quietly and cheerfully; and many a time Peter Munk, when +gray-headed, would say, “It is indeed better to be content with little, +than to have wealth and a cold heart.” + +C. A. F. + + +[1] The Black Forest. + +[2] A great festival in German villages, general during the months of +October and November. + + + + +THE WONDERS IN THE SPESSART. + +BY KARL IMMERMANN. + +[This tale occurs in the novel of “Münchhausen,” the narrator telling +it to the object of his affections. It is necessary to state this to +render the opening intelligible. The story is probably intended to +satirize the speculative tendency of the Germans, and old Albertus +Magnus seems a sort of representative of Hegel, whom Immermann openly +attacks in the course of the “Münchhausen.” To me the expression +“dialectic thought,” which occurs in the Hegelian sense at p. 85, is +conclusive in this respect.--J. O.] + + +“Did you ever, Lisbeth, on a clear sunny day, go through a beautiful +wood, in which the blue sky peered through the green diadems above you, +where the exhalation of the trees was like a breath of God, and when +thy foot scattered a thousand glittering pearls from the pointed grass?” + +“Yes, lately, Oswald dear, I went through the mountains to collect the +rents. It is delightful to walk in a green fresh wood; I could ramble +about one for whole days without meeting a soul, and without being in +the least terrified. The turf is God’s mantle, and we are guarded by a +thousand angels, whether we sit or stand upon it. Now a hill--now a +rock! I ran and ran, because I always thought, ‘Behind, then, must be +flying the wonderful bird with its blue and red wings, its golden crown +upon its head.’ I grew hot and red with running, but not weary. One +does not get weary in a wood.” + +“And when you did not see the wonderful bird behind the hill in the +hedge, you stood still hard-breathing, and you heard afar in the valley +of oaks the sound of the axe, which is the forest clock, and tells that +man’s hour is running even in such a lovely solitude.” + +“Or farther, Oswald, the free prospect up the hill between the dark +round beeches, and still closer, the brow of the hill crowned with +lofty trunks! There red cows were feeding, and shook their bells, +there the dew on the grass gave a silvery hue to the sunlit valley, and +the shadows of the cows and the trees played at hide-and-seek with each +other.” + +“Well, then, on such a sunny morning many hundred years ago, two young +men met one another in the wood. It was in the great woody ridge of +mountains, called Spessart, which forms the boundary between the joyous +districts of the Rhine and the fertile Fraconia. That is a wood, dear +Lisbeth, which is ten leagues broad and twenty long, covering plains +and mountains, clifts and valleys. + +“On the great highway, which runs straight from the Rhine-land to +Würzburg and Bamberg, these young men met each other. One came from +the west, the other from the east. Their animals were as opposite as +their directions. The one from the east sat upon a bay horse, which +pranced merrily, and he looked right stately in his gay armour, and his +cap of red velvet, from which the heron’s plume descended; the one from +the west wore a black cap without any mark of distinction, a long +student’s cloak of the same colour, and rode on a humble mule. + +“When the young knight had approached the travelling student, he +stopped his bay, saluted the other in a friendly way, and said: ‘Good +friend, I was just going to alight, and to take my morning snack, but +since two are required for love, gaming, and eating, if these three +pleasant affairs are to go off properly, I beg leave to ask you, +whether you will dismount and be my partner? A mouthfull of grass +would no less suit your gray, than my bay. The day will be hot, and +the beasts require some repose.’ + +“The travelling student was pleased with this offer. Both alighted and +seated themselves by the roadside on the wild thyme and lavender, from +which, as they sat down, a white cloud of perfumes ascended, and a +hundred bees that were disturbed in their labours arose humming. A +squire, who had followed the young knight with a heavy laden horse, +took charge of the two animals, gave his master a goblet and bottle, +together with bread and meat from the knapsack, unbridled the beasts, +and let them graze by the roadside. + +“The travelling student felt the side-pocket of his cloak, drew back +his hand with an air of vexation, and cried: ‘Out upon my eternal +abstraction! This very morning, I had packed up my breakfast so neatly +in the inn, and then something else must needs come into my head, and +make me forget my provisions.’ + +“‘If that is all,’ cried the young knight, ‘here is enough for you and +me!’ He divided the bread and meat, filled the goblet, and gave the +other both liquid and solid. At the same time he examined him more +closely, while the other on his side examined him also, and then a cry +of astonishment was uttered by them both: + +“‘Are you not?’--‘Nay, art _thou_ not?’ they cried. + +“‘I am indeed Conrad of Aufsess!’ cried the young knight. + +“‘And I Peter of Stellen,’ cried the other. They embraced each other, +and could hardly contain themselves for joy at this unexpected meeting. + +“They were indeed playfellows, who had met by accident in the verdant +Spessart. Their fathers had been friends, and the sons had often +played at bat and ball together; had quarrelled a hundred times, and as +often made it up again. However, young Peter was always more quiet and +reflective than his playfellow, who thought about nothing but the names +of weapons and riding-equipage. At last Peter declared to his father +that he wished to become learned, and he went to Cologne to sit at the +feet of the celebrated Albertus Magnus, who was master of all the human +sciences then known, and of whom, report said, that he was also deeply +initiated in the occult arts. + +“A considerable time had elapsed, since either of the playfellows had +heard any thing of the other. After the first storm of joy had +subsided, and breakfast was removed, the knight asked the student what +had occurred to him. + +“‘To that, my friend, I can give a very short answer, and ought to give +thee a very long one. A short one, if I merely portray the outward +form and shell of my life hitherto; a long one--ah, an infinitely long +one, if thou desirest to taste the inner kernel of this shell.’ + +“‘Eh, silly fellow,’ cried the knight, ‘what hard discourse is this? +Give the shell and a bit of the kernel, if the whole nut is too large +for a single meal.’ + +“‘Then know,’ replied the other, ‘that my visible course of life was +between narrow banks. I dwelt in a little dark street, at the back of +a house inhabited by quiet people. My window looked upon a garden to +the trees and shrubs of which a solemn background was formed by the +wall of the Templars’ house. I kept myself very solitary, associating +neither with the citizens, nor with the students. The result is that I +know nothing about the large city, except the street leading from my +house to the Dominican convent, where my great master taught. When I +returned to my cell, and had kept awake till midnight by my studying +lamp, I sometimes looked out of window to cool my heated eyes by +exposure to the deep starry heaven. I then often saw a light in the +Templars’ house opposite; the knights in the white mantles of their +order passed along the galleries, like spirits in the glare of red +torches, vanished behind the pillars, and re-appeared. In the extreme +corner of the wing, curtains were let down before the windows, but +through the thinner parts of these a singular light shone, while behind +them melodies could be heard, sounding through the night sweetly and +solemnly, like forbidden desires. + +“‘Thus did my days pass insignificant to outward appearance, but +internally a brilliant festival of all sorts of wonders. Albertus now +distinguished me above his other pupils; and in a short time I observed +that he repeated to me with a particular emphasis, certain words, which +passed unheeded by the rest. These were words which pointed to the +mysterious connection of all human knowledge, and a common root, +shooting into the darkest secrecy of that great tree, which in the +light above unfolded its mighty branches;--as grammar, dialectics, +eloquence, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music. At such words +his eyes would rest upon me, with the most penetrating glance, and my +looks told him, that he had kindled in me a deep desire for the last +and greatest treasures of his mind. + +“‘By degrees, I became the confidant of his secret laboratory, and the +pupil to which he intended to bequeath, as a precious legacy, a portion +of his talent. There is only one marrow of things, which here in the +metal is heavy and presses down, there in the waving plant, or the +volatile bird, struggles to free itself from the original kernel. All +things undergo a perpetual change. The Creator indeed works in nature, +but nature also works for herself. And he who has the right power at +his command can call forth her own peculiar independent life, so that +the limbs which would otherwise remain bound in the Creator, will +unfold themselves to new movements. My great master conducted me with +a secure hand to that spring, where the marrow of things is flowing. I +dipped my finger therein, and all my senses were at once filled with a +superhuman power of perception. We often sat together in the sooty +melting-room, and looked into the glow of the furnace; he before, on a +low stool, I cowering behind him, giving the coals or the pieces of +ore, which he flung into the crucible with his left hand, while with +the right he affectionately held me. Then the metals defended +themselves; the salts and acids crackled; the great Regulus, who rules +all the world wished, as in a stormy fortress, to guard himself in the +midst of sharp-angled crystals; the red, blue, and green vassals were +kindled in wrath, and as if to keep us off, stretched their glaring +spears towards us, but we broke through the works and destroyed the +garrison, and the shining king humbly surrendered himself over the +ruins of dross. Gold in itself is nothing to him whose heart is not +set on earthly things, but to perceive this dearest and most precious +boon of nature in all and every thing, even in what is most trifling +and insignificant, that is a great matter to the philosopher. At other +times the stars showed us their curious circles which separated +themselves as history, and sunk to the earth, or the intimate +connection of tones and numbers was awakened to us and showed us links +which no word can describe, but which are again much more revealed by +tones and numbers. But in all this mysterious essence and +interweaving, that it might not again become a cold sticky mass, +floated, ever combining and ever freeing, that which separates itself, +both in itself and in things, amid the contest of ever fading +youth--the great, the unfathomable, the dialectic thought. + +“‘Oh blessed satisfying time of the opened intelligence, of the +wandering through the inner halls of the palace, at the metal doors of +which others knock in vain! At last----” + +“The wandering student, whose lips during the narrative had been +glowing more and more, took a deep red colour, while a strange fire +flashed from his eyes, stopped short here, as though suddenly sobered +from his inspiration. The knight wished in vain for the completion of +the discourse, and then said to his friend: ‘Well--_at last_?’ + +“‘At last,’ replied the student, in a tone of feigned indifference, ‘we +were obliged to separate, if only for a short time. My great master +now sends me to Ratisbon to ask for certain papers from the sacristy of +the cathedral, which he left there as bishop. I shall bring them to +him, and shall then, indeed, if I can, pass my life with him.’ + +“The young knight poured the rest of his wine into the goblet, looked +into it, and drank the wine more slowly than before. ‘Thou hast told +me strange things,’ he began after a silence, ‘but they do not stagger +me. God’s world appears to me so beautifully adorned, that I should +take no delight in tearing away the charming veil, and looking in to +the innermost core of things, as thou callest it. The sky is blue, the +stars shine, the wood rustles, the plants give fragrance, and this +blue, this shining, this rustling, this fragrance--are they not the +most beautiful things that can be, behind which there is nothing more +beautiful? Pardon me, I do not envy thee thy secret knowledge. Poor +fellow! this knowledge does not give thee a colour. Thy cheeks are +quite pale and sunken.’ + +“‘Every one has his appointed path, one this, the other that,’ replied +the scholar. ‘It is not the bounding of blood that constitutes life. +Marble is white, and walls of marble generally enclose the spot in +which stand the statues of the gods, yet enough of this, and now for +thyself. What hast thou done since I last saw thee?’ + +“‘Oh! of that,’ cried the young knight Conrad, with his usual +light-heartedness, ‘there is little to be told! I got upon horseback +and got off again, I went about to many a good prince’s court, thrust +many a spear, gained many thanks, missed many thanks, and peeped into +many a lovely woman’s eye. I can write my name, and press the knob of +my sword in wax by the side of it, and I can rhyme a song, though not +so well as Master Godfried of Strasburg.[1] I have gone through the +initiatory ceremonies, and was dubbed a knight at Firchheim. Now I am +riding to Mayence, where the emperor is going to hold a tournament, to +tumble about a little and enjoy life.’ + +“The student looked at the sun’s place, and said: ‘It is a pity that +after such a friendly meeting we must so soon part. Nevertheless it is +necessary, if we each design to fulfil our purpose to-day.’ + +“‘Come with me to Mayence,’ cried the other, as he jumped up, and eyed +the student with a singularly compassionate look, which, however, +allowed a smile to appear. ‘Leave that gloomy Ratisbon, and the +cathedral and the sacristy; cheer up thy face among jolly fellows, by +the round table, in the wine-cellar, and before the flowery windows of +fair damsels. Let the sound of flute and shaum purify thine ears of +the awful vigils of the Templars, who are considered mischievous +heretics and Baffomets’ priests over all Christendom. Come to Mayence, +Peter!’ + +“He was already in his saddle, when he uttered these last words, and +stretched out his hand as if in supplication, towards his friend, who +turned aside and drew back his arm in token of refusal. ‘What has come +into your head?’ he said, smiling reluctantly. ‘Ah, friend Conrad, if +I had already said every one has his appointed way, I would cry out to +thee turn back, thou volatile heedless one! Youth fades away, the jest +becomes hushed, the laugh will one day be found suddenly to fail, +because the face has become too stiff, or grins repulsively from +withered wrinkles! Woe then to him whose garners are not full, whose +chambers are not stored! Ah, there must be something dismal in such a +base, impoverished old age, and the proverb is right which says: ‘Those +who at morn too merry are, shall reap at night sorrow and care.’ +Looking upon thee thus, oh brother of my youth, I may well feel +troubled about thee, for who knows in what altered condition I may find +thee again.’ + +“The knight gave the student’s hand a hearty shake and cried: ‘Perhaps +thou wilt be transformed when we meet again--wilt be decked out in +velvet and satin, and surpass us all!’ He darted off, and in the +distance the student heard him sing a song which was then in every +mouth, and sounded something like this: + + ‘No fairer flow’r, I vow, is known + Than that bright rose, sweet woman’s lips, + With such luxuriance swelling. + Close-lock’d at first, this flow’ret keeps, + When as an infant bud ’tis shown + All bold assaults repelling. + But every flow’r is wash’d by May, + On rosy lips he plants a kiss, + And straight we see them fully blowing. + Then rosy lips should find a kiss, + And every kiss should in its day + Find lips with fondness glowing.’ + + +“A butterfly flew up before the student. ‘Is not the life of most +men,’ he said, ‘to be compared to the fluttering of this moth? Light +and motley he goes flaunting about, and yet how barren and short are +his joys.’ He rolled about his great eyes, but only an empty +alternation of light and shade reached these dim mirrors, not the full +form, the fine colour. The wood looked on him from its green depths +with an irresistible glance. ‘Suppose,’ he said, ‘I leave my patient +beast awhile on this grass-plot; it will not run away from me, and I +feel the warmest desire to wander there for an hour. How refreshing it +must be in the depths of the wood!’ + +“He turned aside from the high road by a narrow path, which, after +winding for a short distance through the tall trees, sloped down into +the wood. Soon he found himself in a perfect solitude, with a +rustling, whispering, and whining round him, while only a few single +gleams of sun-light reflected with a green hue, played about him like +ignis fatui. Sometimes he thought he heard his name called behind him +in the distance, and--he did not know why--the call appeared to him +hateful and repulsive. Then again he would take the sound to be a mere +delusion, but whatever he thought he always got deeper and deeper into +the dark forest. Large gnarled roots lay like snakes across the way, +stretched out, so that the student was in danger of tumbling every +moment. Stag-beetles stood like noble game in the moor, while the +purest hues of golden vegetation shone from little nooks in the rocks. +The perspiration stood on his forehead, and with increasing rapidity he +penetrated the thicket, and fled from the bright sunny world without. +It was not only the exercise of walking that made him hot, his mind was +also labouring under a burden of heavy recollections. At last, after +the pathway had long vanished from beneath his feet, he came to a +beautiful, smooth, dark spot, among some mighty oak-trees. Still he +heard his name called in the distance. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘the rude +sound yonder will no more reach me; here I shall be quietly concealed.’ +He sunk down upon a great mossy stone, his heart heaved, he was +struggling with a powerful desire. ‘Forgive my presumption, great +master,’ he cried, ‘but there is a knowledge which must be followed by +action, otherwise it crushes a mortal. Here, nearer to the heart of +the great mother, where amid sprouting and growing, her pulse beats +more audibly,--here must I utter the magic word, which I heard from thy +sleeping lips, when thou spakest it in a dream; the word, at the sound +of which the creature casts aside its veil, the powers which labour +beneath bark and hide, and in the kernel of the rock, become visible, +and the language of birds becomes intelligible to the ear.’ + +“His lips already quivered to utter the word, but he restrained +himself, for there appeared before his eyes the sorrowful glance with +which his great master, Albertus, had entreated him to make no use of +the art he had accidentally acquired, since heavy things impended over +him who uttered the magic word designedly. + +“Nevertheless, he did call it out loudly into the wood, as if the +prohibition and his own fear had given it additional force, and while +he did so, he stretched out his right hand. + +“At once he felt a blow and a jerk, that made him think he had been +struck by lightning. His eyes were blinded, and it seemed as though a +violent whirlwind was hurling him through the immeasurable space. As +terrified and giddy he felt about him with his hands, he touched indeed +the mossy stone on which he had been standing, and therefore in his +mind regained the earth, but now he had a new and unpleasant sign. For +as previously he had been flung about the universe like an atom, it now +seemed to him as if his body were infinitely extended. Amid the most +frightful agonies, this newly-wakened power forced his limbs to such a +monstrous size, that he thought he must be touching the sky. The bones +of his head and chest were become as capacious as temples; into his +ears fell strange, heavenly sounds of distracting effect, and he said +to himself: ‘That is the song of the stars in their golden orbits.’ +The pains at last were exchanged for a titillating pleasurable +sensation, during which he felt his body again shrink up to its +ordinary size, while the gigantic form remained standing around him +like an outer shell, or a kind of atmosphere in aërial outline. The +darkness left his eyes, while great, yellow-shining surfaces of light, +as with the sensation of dazzling, freed themselves from the pupils and +glided into the corners, where they gradually disappeared. + +“While he thus regained his sight, a clear-toned, sweet chorus--he did +not know whether it was the birds alone, or whether the boughs, bushes, +and grasses joined in--sang quite plainly round him: + + ‘Yes, he shall hear it, + Yes, he must bear it; + To us he belongs alone. + Soon will he + By the green-wood tree, + Be dumb and cold as a stone.’ + + +“In the block of mossy rock a light murmuring was audible. It seemed +as though the stone wished to move itself and could not, like one in a +trance. The student looked upon its surface, and lo! the green and red +veins were running together into a very ancient countenance, which from +its weary eyes looked upon him with such a mournful and supplicating +aspect, that he turned aside with horror, and sought consolation among +the trees, plants, and birds. + +“Among these all was changed likewise. When he trod on the short brown +moss, it shrieked and groaned at the ungentle pressure, and he saw how +it wrung its little hairy hands and shake its green or yellow heads. +The stems of the plants and the trunks of the trees were in a constant +spiral motion, and at the same time the bark, or the outer skin, +allowed him to look into the inside, where little sprites were pouring +fine glistening drops into the tubes. The clear fluid ran from tube to +tube, while valves unceasingly opened and shut, until in the capillary +tubes of the leaves at the very top, it was transformed to a green +bloom. Soft explosions and fire now arose in the veins of the leaves; +their finely cut lips ceaselessly breathed forth a kind of ethereal +flame, while ceaselessly also the heavier part of those igneous +phenomena glided about the leaves in soft waves of vapour. In the +blue-bell flowers that were on the damp soil there was a ringing and +singing; they consoled the poor old face of stone with a lively song, +and told him that if they could only free themselves from the ground +they would with right good will release him. Out of the air strange +green, red, and yellow signs, which seemed about to join themselves to +some form, and then again were dissipated, peered at the student; worms +and chafers crawled or stepped to him on every side, uttering all sorts +of confused petitions. One wished to be this, another that; one wished +for a new cover to his wings, another had broken his proboscis; those +that were accustomed to float in the air begged for sunshine, those +that crawled, for damp. All this rabble of insects called him their +deity, so that his brain was nearly turned. + +“Among the birds there was no end to the chirping, twittering, and +tale-telling. A spotted woodpecker clambered up and down the bark of +an oak, hacked and picked after the worms, and was never tired of +crying: ‘I am the forester, I must take care of the wood.’ The wren +said to the finch: ‘There is no more friendship among us. The peacock +will not allow me to strike a circle, thinking that no one has a right +to do so but himself, and therefore he has accused me to the supreme +tribunal. Nevertheless I can strike as good a circle as he with my +little brown tail.’ ‘Leave me alone,’ replied the finch, ‘I eat my +grain and care for nothing else. I have cares of quite another sort. +The proper artistical melody I can only add to my native woodland song +when they have blinded me, but it is a terrible thing that no good can +be done with one unless one is so horribly maimed.’ Others chattered +about thefts and murders, which no one but the birds had seen. + + ‘Over the road they fly, + Traced by no mortal eye.’ + + +“Then they perched themselves stiffly on the branches and peeped down +mockingly at the scholar, while two impudent titmice cried out: ‘There +stands the conjurer listening to us and cannot make out what has +happened to him.’ ‘Well, how he will stare!’ screamed the whole troop, +and off they flew with a chirping which sounded half like laughter. + +“The scholar now felt something thrown in his face, and looking up, saw +an ill-bred squirrel that had flung a hollow nut at his forehead, and +now lay flat with his belly upon the bough, staring him full in the +face, and crying: ‘The full one for me, the hollow for thee!’ ‘Ye +misbehaved rabble, let the strange gentleman alone,’ cried a black and +white magpie that came wagging her tail up to him, through the grass. +She then seated herself on the student’s shoulder, and said into his +ear: ‘You must not judge of us all according to these uncourteous +beasts, learned sir, there are well bred folks among us. Only see, +through that aperture, yonder wise gentleman, the wild boar, how +quietly he stands and eats his acorns, and fosters his thoughts in +silence. Willingly I will give you my company and tell you all that I +know, for talking is my delight, especially with old people.’ + +“‘There you are out in your reckoning,’ said the student, ‘I am still +young.’ + +“‘Heavens, how men can deceive themselves,’ cried the magpie, and she +looked very thoughtful. + +“The student now thought he heard, from the depth of the wood, a sigh, +the sound of which penetrated his heart. He asked the cause of his +white and black companion, and she told him she would ask two lizards, +who were eating their breakfast. He accordingly went, with the magpie +on his shoulder, to the place where these creatures were to be found, +and beheld a very pretty sight. The two lizards, sure enough, were +genteel young ladies, for they sat under a great mushroom, which +stretched its golden yellow roof over them like a splendid marquee. +There they sat imbibing, with their little brown tongues, the dew from +the grass, and then wiping their mouths with one of the blades, they +went to take a walk together in a neighbouring grove of fern, which +seemingly belonged to the one who had invited her friend to the visit. +‘Shack! shack!’ cried the magpie, ‘the gentleman wants to know who it +was that sighed.’ The lizards raised their heads, waggled their tails +and cried, + + ‘In the bower by the spring the Princess sleeps; + Safely the spider the lady keeps.’ + + +“‘Hem,’ said the magpie, shaking her head, ‘to think that one can be so +forgetful. To be sure in the adjoining beechen-bower slumbers the fair +Princess Doralice, about whom wicked King Spider has spun his web. Oh, +if you could save her, learned sir!’ The student’s heart was stirred, +and he asked the magpie where the bower was. The bird flew before him, +from bough to bough, to show him the way, till at last they came to a +quiet meadow, enclosed all round, through which a streamlet, taking its +source from a cleft in the rocks, was flowing among some pretty bowers +formed by beech-trees. These trees had struck their branches into the +earth, and thus arched over the ground like a roof, through which the +fine leaves of the fern were peering forth, forming as it were the +gables and loopholes of the little leafy dwelling. Upon these the +magpie sprang, peeped through a loophole, and whispered mysteriously, +‘Here sleeps the princess!” The student approached with beating heart, +knelt before the opening of the bower and looked within. Ah, there was +a sight that set his whole soul and senses into a commotion more +violent than when he uttered the magical word! On the moss, which rose +like a pillow round its fair burden, the loveliest maiden was lying +asleep. Her head was somewhat raised, one arm was placed under it, and +her white fingers glistened through the gold-brown hair, which in long +soft streams delicately wound about her neck and bosom. With +unspeakable delight and, at the same time, with a feeling of melancholy +the student gazed upon the noble face, the purple lips, the full white +limbs, which cast a bright reflection on the dark moss. The +circumstance that the sleeper, as if oppressed by some mysterious +weight, appeared to breathe in a soft agony, only rendered her more +charming in his eyes; he felt that his heart was captivated for ever, +and that those lips alone could still his passion. ‘Is it not a +shame,’ said the magpie, as she hopped through the hole into the bower +and perched on the sleeper’s arm, ‘that so lovely a princess should +thus be bound by a web?’ ‘A web?’ asked the student; ‘she is indeed +lying there wrapped in her white veil.’ ‘Oh, folly!’ cried the magpie, +‘I tell you that is all cobweb, and King Spider made it.’ ‘But who is +King Spider?’ + +“‘In his human state he was a wealthy maker of yarn,’ replied the +magpie, pleasantly wagging her tail. ‘His factory was not distant from +here, being by the river-side without the wood, and about a hundred +workmen spun under him. The yarn they used to wash in the stream. +This was the dwelling-place of the Nixy, who was very much enraged, +that they troubled his clear waters with their filthy washing, +especially as all his children, the trout and the smelts, died from the +carious matter: he tangled the yarn, the waves were forced to cast it +over the shore, he drove it downwards into the whirlpool to warn the +master-spinner, but all was in vain. At last, on Midsummer-day, when +the river-spirits have power to frighten and to injure, he sprinkled +some magic water in the faces of the whole troop of spinners and their +chief, as they were carrying on their washing as boldly and +unscrupulously as ever, and just as bloodthirsty men may be changed +into wear-wolves, and wear-cats, so did they become wear-spiders. They +all ran from the river to the wood, and were hanging everywhere from +the trees and bushes by their web. The workmen have become diminutive +spiders, and catch flies and gnats, but their master has retained +nearly his former size, and is called the spider-king. He lies in +watch for pretty girls, spins his web round them, lulls their senses +with his poisonous exhalations, and then sucks the blood from their +hearts. At last he overcame this princess, who had strayed from her +retinue in the wood. See, there, there, he is stirring among the +bushes.” + +“And indeed it seemed to the student as if he saw glimmering through +the branches, right opposite to him, the body of a gigantic spider; two +hairy feet, as thick as human arms, were working their way through the +foliage. He felt dreadfully alarmed for the lovely sleeper, and wished +to oppose the monster. ‘Vain is your attempt!’ cried the magpie, +flapping her wings; ‘all enchanted men have fearful power, and this +monster could strangle you with his web; however, strew some fern-seed +on the breast of the fair one; that will make her invisible to the +spider-king, and so long as any particle of it remains, its virtue will +last.’ In the greatest haste the student rubbed the brown dust from +the under surface of a fern-leaf, and did as the bird had desired. +While during this act, he bent over the sleeper, his cheek felt her +breath. Enraptured, he cried, ‘Are there no means of freeing this +beloved form?’ ‘Oh,’ screamed the bird, as she madly flew round the +student with a sort of zig-zag motion, ‘if you ask me about means, +there are many indeed. Our wise old man in the cleft has the yew-tree +in keeping, and if you can get a branch of that, and with it touch the +fair one thrice upon the forehead, all her bonds will be dissolved: + + ‘Before the yew tree, + All magic must flee.’ + +She will then sink in your arms, and belong to you, as her deliverer.’ + +“At this moment it seemed as though the sleeper heard the bird’s +discourse. Her beautiful face was suffused with a delicate redness, +and her features took the expression of an ineffable desire. ‘Lead me +to the wise old man!’ cried the student, half beside himself. + +“The bird hopped into the bushes, and the student hurried after her. +The magpie fluttered up a narrow rocky path which soon led over a marsh +and wildly scattered blocks of stones, with great peril to the +traveller. The student was forced to clamber from block to block that +he might not sink into the marsh. His knees trembled, his heart +heaved, his temples were bathed in a cold sweat. As he hastened along +he plucked off flowers and leaves and sprinkled them on the stones that +he might again find his way. At last he stood on an eminence of +considerable height upon a spacious rocky portal, from the dark hollow +of which an icy-cold breeze blew towards him. Here nature seemed to be +in her primitive state of fermention, so fearfully and in such wild +disorder did the masses of stone stand over, by, and before the cavern. + +“‘Here dwells our wise man!’ cried the magpie, while she bristled up +her feathers from her head to her tail, which gave her a most +unpleasant and repulsive appearance, ‘I will announce you, and ask how +he feels disposed as to your wish.’ With these words, she slipped into +the hollow, and almost immediately jumped back again, crying, ‘The old +man is peevish and obstinate, and he will not give you the bough of +yew, unless you stop up all the chinks in the cavern, for he says the +draught annoys him. Before you can do this, many years may have +passed.’ + +“The student plucked up as much of the moss and herbage as he could, +and, not without a feeling of dread, entered the cavern. Within +strangely-shaped stalactites were staring at him from the walls, and he +did not know where to turn his eyes to avoid these hideous forms. He +wished to penetrate deeper by the rocky path, but from the further +corner a voice snorted forth to him: ‘Back! disturb me not in my +researches, pursue thy occupation there in the front!’ He wished to +discover who was speaking, but only saw a pair of red fiery eyes, that +shone out of the darkness. He now set about his task, stopped up with +moss and herbage every chink through which a glimmer of daylight +passed, but this was a difficult, and--as it seemed to him--an endless +task. For when he thought he had done with one cranny and might turn +to another, the stopping fell out, and he was obliged to begin anew. +The snorting thing at the back of the cavern went on rattling out +sounds without meaning, only occasionally uttering intelligible words, +which seemed to denote that the creature was boasting of its deep +investigations. + +“Time appeared to the student to be hastening along with the greatest +rapidity, while he was pursuing his work of despair. Days, weeks, +months, years, seemed to come and go, and yet he felt nothing like +hunger or thirst. He fancied he was nearly mad, and with a kind of +feigned passion, quietly repeated to himself the year in which he had +entered the wood, and that it was on the day of Peter and Paul, that he +might not lose all notion of time. The image of his beloved sleeper +appeared to him as from a far distance, he wept with desire and sorrow, +and yet he felt no tears flowing down his cheeks. All at once it +seemed to him as if he saw a well-known figure approach the sleeper, +contemplate her with rapture, and then bend over her as if to kiss her. +At this moment he was entirely conscious of pain and jealousy, and, +forgetting all around him, he darted towards the dark background of the +cavern. ‘The yew-branch!’ he cried, eagerly. ‘There it grows,’ said +the glaring snorting thing, and at the same time he felt in his hand +the branch of a tree, which grew from a dark chink in the grotto. He +was in the act of breaking one of the branches, when he heard a +whimpering noise around him, the glaring creature snorted louder than +ever, the cavern reeled, shook, and fell in, all became dark in the +eyes of the student, and he involuntarily shouted out: + + ‘Before the yew tree, + All magic must flee.’ + + +“When his eyes again became clear, he looked around him. A dry, +strangely-discoloured stick was in his hand. He stood amid a heap of +stones, which arched themselves to a cavern, which was not very large. +In the depth of it he heard shrill, piping sounds, like those commonly +uttered by great owls. The place around seemed changed. It was a +moderate eminence, bare, and scanty, and sprinkled over with stones of +no remarkable magnitude, between which the path by which he had +ascended, led on one side, through the damp soil, to the abyss. Of the +large blocks of rock, nothing more was to be seen. He was freezing +with cold, although the sun was high in the heavens, and, as it seemed +to him, in the same place as when he went out to fetch the bough, which +had now become a withered stick in his hand. Stepping over the stones, +he went down the path; the journey seemed wearisome, he was obliged to +support himself on the stick, his head hung down on his breast, and he +heard his breath, as it struggled forth with difficulty. On a slippery +part of the pathway his foot slid, and he was obliged to cling to the +hedge. In this act his hand came close to his eye, and appeared gray +and wrinkled. ‘Good God!’ cried he, seized with horror, ‘have I then +so long----?’ He did not dare to utter his own thoughts. ‘No,’ said +he, forcibly calming himself, ‘it is the cold wood-breeze that so +freezes me; the exertion has made me weak, and the broken greenish +light, which falls through the hedges, gives my hands this singular +colour.’ He stepped farther, and saw, lying on the stones, the wild +flowers and leaves, which he had thrown, on his ascent, to mark the +way. They were as fresh as if they had been but just placed there. +This was a new riddle for him. A charcoal-burner was chopping away the +trees by the wayside, and cutting off branches; so he asked him what +day it was. ‘Eh, father,’ said the man, ‘are you such a bad Christian, +that you do not know the Apostles’ days? This is Peter and Paul’s day, +when the stag leaves the wood for the corn. I am cutting out a toy for +my young one, out of the veiny bough. For any other purpose, I do not +work on this day; but that is all for pleasure and pastime, and is +allowed, says the chaplain.’ + +“‘I pray you, my good fellow,’ said the student, who felt a sensation +of horror, more and more painful, pervading him, ‘tell in what year of +our Lord we are!’ The charcoal-burner, whom even the holiday’s wash +had not quite freed from soot, raised up his strong-limbed black figure +from among the green bushes, and, after some hesitation, told the year. + +“‘Oh, my Redeemer!’ shrieked the student, and, no longer supported by +his stick, he fell upon the stones. He then cast the stick away, and +crawled trembling down the stony path. + +The black charcoal-burner, amazed, came out of the hedge upon the +stones, with the branch in his hand, saw the stick lying before him, +crossed himself, and said: ‘That is off the yew-tree, which grows +yonder on the Eulenstein, where the owl has his nest. They say that it +will enchant, and free that which is enchanted already. God help us! +the old man has uttered wicked things.’ He then returned to the +bushes, to go to his hut, and cut the plaything for his boy. + + * * * * * + +“In the pleasant woodland meadow below, near the beechen arbour, and by +the clear brook, which had there washed its banks to a wide basin, sat +the young knight, Conrad, and the fair one whom he had awakened from +slumber without any magic arts. The red, blue, and yellow flower-cups +pressed forth out of the grass around them, and the pair bloomed in +youth and beauty--the knight in gay accoutrements, the maiden in her +silver-bright veil, as the fairest flower that decked the enamel. He +had his arm gently round her waist, and said, looking with every +appearance of sincerity into her eye: ‘By the ashes of my dear mother, +and by the holy sign on the hilt of this sword, I am, as I have named +myself to thee, lord of castles, and ruler of my own life, and I +entreat thee, thou lovely wonder of this forest, to let thy lips speak +the word which shall make me thine for ever, with the blessing of the +priest before the altar.’ + +“‘And what word dost thou desire?’ said the fair one, as she modestly +lowered her eye-lashes. ‘Have not my eye, my cheek, my palpitating +bosom told all? Love[2] is a powerful queen, she pursues her path +unawares, and seizes whom she pleases, without suffering resistance. +Conduct me, before the decline of day, to the pious abbess of the +cloister at Odenwald, she will take me under her protection, and there +will I abide between quiet walls, till you come, and fetch me to your +home.’ + +“She was about to rise, but the young knight softly detained her, and +said, ‘Let us yet remain a few moments in this spot where my happiness +sprang up, like a golden legend. I still fear that you will vanish +from my sight, like some charming wood nymph. Help me to believe in +thee and thy lovely mortality. How didst thou come hither? What had +befallen thee?’ + +“‘This morning,’ replied the fair one, ‘I had fled into the forest from +my guardian, Count Archimbald, whose wicked designs, whether upon me or +my property I know not, were suddenly most frightfully apparent. Of +what use is a rich inheritance to youth and woman? She is always left +to herself and unprotected. I wished to fly to the abbess, I wished to +apply to the emperor at Mayence, indeed I scarcely knew what I wished. +Thus I came into these green halls of trees, my thoughts were not +directed to the true Aid, my thoughts were at war with Heaven. +Suddenly, while I saw this meadow already before me, I fancied that +something was spoken over yonder in the bushes, upon which I felt +myself and all around me transformed. I cannot describe the word nor +the sound of it, my beloved. The song of the nightingale is harsh to +its sweetness, and the rolling of the thunder is but a weak whisper +compared to it. It was certainly the most mysterious and the most +compulsory communication which is possible between heaven and earth. +On me it exercised an irresistible power, as it fell into a mind that +had lost all self-control, into the tumult of my senses, and there was +in me no holy thought to oppose it. My eyes closed, and yet I could +see the path before me, which my feet, as though conducted by soft, +invisible hands, were forced to tread. I slept and yet I did not +sleep; it was an indescribable situation under the influence of which I +at length sank down on the soft recess in yonder arbour. Every thing +around me was speaking and singing, I felt within me the billow-like +commotion of the most tumultuous rapture, every drop of my blood +flashed and danced through my veins, and yet in the depth of my soul +there was the most extreme horror at my state, and the most ardent +prayer for an awakening from my slumber. I perceived at the same time +that nothing of the horror appeared in my face, for strange to say I +could look at myself, and I saw that my cheeks smiled with delight, as +if songs of heavenly joy were sung to me. The sensation of pleasure +penetrated deeper and deeper into my heart, that of horror receded more +and more, and I felt dreadfully alarmed lest this one small point +should be totally extinguished, and I should have nothing but pleasure. +In this state of trouble, and apparently the loss of all consciousness, +I vowed that I would belong to him, who should awaken and deliver me. +I now perceived through my closed eyelids a dark form stooping over me. +The form was large and noble, and yet I felt a deep repugnance towards +this person, while the thought that it might be he, who had uttered the +fatal word passed through my mind like a shadow; nevertheless I still +cried out, silently indeed, but yet loudly, to myself, ‘If he wakens +thee and delivers thee, thou must belong to him for this ineffable +benefit, for thou hast vowed it.’ He did not awaken me!’ + +“‘I--I have awakened thee, my dearest love, and not by charms and +benedictions, no; but with a burning kiss on thy red lips!’ cried the +young knight, with transport, as he embraced the fair Emma. ‘Strange +have been the wonders in the Spessart which have brought us together. +On the highway yonder I had parted from my dear friend Peter, after the +strangest and most intricate discussion. When I had proceeded a few +hundred paces I suddenly felt very uneasy about him, so I alighted, and +wished again and again to exhort him to leave his dark ways, and go +with me to Mayence. As soon as I turned, I saw him slip into the wood. +I cried his name, but he heard me not. My spurs hindered me from +walking fast; I could only follow him in the distance, but nevertheless +I did not desist from calling after him, although it was all in vain. +At last I lost sight of his black cloak among the trees. The beautiful +green meadow was sparkling before me, and I wished to look at the +bright radiance of the flowers, so I came hither, after looking for my +friend in every direction. In the wood around me, there was a constant +stirring and waving from the breezes, the worms were all in motion, the +birds chirped and fluttered in a manner quite peculiar. However there +was no influence over me, probably because I was thinking of the plain +good path to which I would willingly bring Peter. When I found thee +sleeping, the most acute pity, together with the power of the sweetest +love, affected my heart, and I felt joyous. I nevertheless shed the +most scalding tears that ever flowed from my lively eyes. I think I +was allowed to peep into the corner, where that horror thou speakest +of, dwelt. Sobbing and laughing at the same time, I cried + + ‘I vow there’s not a flow’r that blows, + Can rival woman’s rosy lips, + Where ev’ry sweet is dwelling. + The rose at May’s soft kisses glows, + And sure a kiss should grace those lips + So fondly, sweetly swelling.’ + + +“‘And then my lips, in God’s name, gave thine their greeting.’ + +“‘And the fetters fell from me, I awoke, and my first glance met thy +faithful, weeping eye,’ cried the fair Emma. ‘I thanked God, on whose +name I again thought, for my deliverance; and then I thanked Him that +it was thou, and not that dark man, that had delivered me.’ + +“The young knight became thoughtful. ‘I fear,’ said he, ‘that all the +mysterious wonders of this wood stand in connexion with Peter. I fear +that on this day, when I have gained my love, I have lost my friend. +What can have become of him?’ + +“The youthful pair started from each other, for they saw in the water +at their feet, between their own blooming heads, an icy gray, aged one +reflected. ‘Here he is,’ said a trembling, stooping old man, with hair +as white as snow, who stood behind them. He wore the new black cloak +of the student. + +“‘Yes,’ said the old man, with weak, faint voice, ‘I am thy friend, +Peter of Stetten. I have stood long behind you, and I have heard your +converse, and our fates are clear enough. It is still the day of Peter +and Paul, on which we met and parted on the highway, which is scarcely +a thousand paces from here, and since we parted, perhaps an hour may +have elapsed, for the shadow which yonder hedge casts upon the turf, is +but a little increased. Before that hour we were four-and-twenty years +of age; but during that hour you have become sixty minutes older, and I +sixty years. I am now four-and-eighty. Thus do we see each other +again; indeed I did not think it.’ + +“Conrad and Emma had arisen. She clung timidly to her lover, and said +softly: ‘It is a poor madman.’ But the old man said: ‘No, fair Emma, I +am not mad. I have loved thee; my spell influenced thee, and thou +mightest have been mine, had I been permitted to kiss thy rosy lips in +God’s name--the only benediction by which fair love may be awakened. +Instead of this, I was forced to go in quest of the yew-bough, and to +keep the wind and weather out of the owl’s cave. All has happened of +necessity. He has gained the bride, I have gained--death.’ + +“Conrad had been looking with fixed eyes at the countenance of the old +man, to see if he could detect among the wrinkles one former lineament +of the friend of his youth. At last he stammered forth: ‘I entreat +thee, man, tell us how this transformation was brought about, lest our +brains be turned, and we do something frightful.’ + +“‘Whoever tempts God and nature shall behold sights, the presence of +which shall quickly wither him,’ replied the old man. ‘Therefore, man, +even if he see the plants grow, and understand the discourse of birds, +remains as simple as before, allows a foolish magpie to pass off upon +him fables of a princess and a spider-king, and takes ladies’ veils for +cobwebs. Nature is a curtain, no magical word can remove it--it will +only make thyself an old fable.’ + +“He retired slowly into the depths of the wood, whither Conrad did not +venture to follow him. He conducted his Emma from the shadow of the +trees to the broad road, where the light played in all its colours +around the tops of the trees. + +“For some time did travellers in the Spessart hear a hollow and +ghost-like voice, behind the rocks and thick groups of trees, utter +rhymes, which to some sounded like nonsense, to others like perfect +wisdom. If they followed the sound, they found the old man, whose +years were yet so few, as with faded eyes, and hands resting on his +knees, he looked fixedly in the distance, and uttered sentences, none +of which have been preserved. Soon, however, they were heard no more, +neither was the corpse of the old man discovered. + +“Conrad married his Emma; she bore him fair children, and he lived +happily with her to an advanced age.” + +J. O. + + +[1] One of the most celebrated poets in the 12th and 13th centuries. + +[2] The old word for “lore” _Minne_, from which “Minnesinger” is +derived, is feminine. + + + + +NOSE, THE DWARF. + +BY W. HAUFF. + +[This story is from the collection called “The Sheik of Alexandria and +his Slaves,” and is supposed to be told by a slave to the Sheik.] + + +Sir, those people are much mistaken who fancy that there were no +fairies and enchanters, except in the time of Haroun Al Raschid, Lord +of Bagdad, or even pronounce untrue those accounts of the deeds of +genii and their princes, which one hears the story-tellers relate in +the market-places of the town. There are fairies now-a-days, and it is +but a short time since that I myself was witness of an occurrence in +which genii were evidently playing a part, as you will see from my +narrative. In a considerable town of my dear fatherland, Germany, +there lived many years ago a cobbler, with his wife, in an humble but +honest way. In the daytime he used to sit at the corner of a street +mending shoes and slippers; he did not refuse making new ones if any +body would trust him, but then he was obliged to buy the leather first, +as his poverty did not enable him to keep a stock. His wife sold +vegetables and fruit, which she cultivated in a small garden outside +the town-gates, and many people were glad to buy of her, because she +was dressed cleanly and neatly, and knew well how to arrange and lay +out her things to the best advantage. + +Now this worthy couple had a beautiful boy, of a sweet countenance, +well made, and rather tall for his age, which was eight years. He was +in the habit of sitting in the market with his mother, and often +carried home part of the fruit and vegetables for the women and cooks +who had made large purchases; he seldom, however, returned from one of +these journeys without bringing either a beautiful flower, a piece of +money, or a cake, which the mistresses of such cooks gave him as a +present, because they were always pleased to see the handsome boy come +to the house. + +One day the cobbler’s wife was sitting as usual in the marketplace, +having before her some baskets with cabbages and other vegetables, +various herbs and seeds, besides some early pears, apples, and +apricots, in a small basket. Little James (this was the boy’s name) +sat by her, crying the things for sale in a loud voice: “This way, +gentlemen, see what beautiful cabbages, what fragrant herbs; early +pears, ladies, early apples and apricots; who will buy? My mother +sells cheap.” + +While the boy was thus crying, an old woman was coming across the +market; her dress was rather tattered and in rags, she had a small, +sharp face, quite furrowed with age, red eyes, and a pointed, crooked +nose, which reached down to her chin; in her walk she supported herself +by a long stick, and yet it was difficult to say exactly how she +walked, for she hobbled and shuffled along, and waddled as if she were +on casters, and it was as if she must fall down every instant and break +her pointed nose on the pavement. + +The cobbler’s wife looked attentively at this old woman. For sixteen +years she had been sitting daily in the market, yet she had never +observed this strange figure, and therefore involuntarily shuddered +when she saw the old hag hobbling towards her and stopping before her +baskets. + +“Are you Jane, the greengrocer?” she asked in a disagreeable, croaking +voice, shaking her head to and fro. + +“Yes, I am,” replied the cobbler’s wife; “what is your pleasure?” + +“We’ll see, we’ll see, we’ll look at your herbs--look at your herbs, to +see whether you have what I want,” answered the old woman; and stooping +down she thrust her dark brown, unsightly hands into the herb-basket, +and took up some that were beautifully spread out, with her long +spider-legged fingers, bringing them one by one up to her long nose, +and smelling them all over. The poor woman almost felt her heart break +when she saw the old hag handle her herbs in this manner, but she dared +not say any thing to her, the purchasers having a right to examine the +things as they pleased; besides which, she felt a singular awe in the +presence of this old woman. After having searched the whole basket, +she muttered, “wretched stuff, wretched herbs, nothing that I +want--were much better fifty years ago--wretched stuff! wretched stuff!” + +Little James was vexed at these words. “Hark ye,” he cried, boldly, +“you are an impudent old woman; first you thrust your nasty brown +fingers into these beautiful herbs and squeeze them together, then you +hold them up to your long nose, so that no one seeing this will buy +them after you, and you abuse our goods, calling them wretched stuff, +though nevertheless the duke’s cook himself buys all his herbs of us.” + +The old woman leered at the bold boy, laughed disgustingly, and said in +a hoarse voice, “Little son, little son, you like my nose then, my +beautiful long nose? You shall have one too in the middle of your face +that shall reach down to your chin.” + +While she thus spoke she shuffled up to another basket containing +cabbages. She took the most beautiful white heads up in her hand, +squeezed them together till they squeaked, and then throwing them into +the basket again without regard to order, said as before, “Wretched +things! wretched cabbages!” + +“Don’t wriggle your head about in that ugly fashion,” cried the little +boy, somewhat frightened; “why your neck is as thin as a cabbage-stalk +and might easily break, then your head would fall into the basket, and +who would buy of us?” + +“You don’t like such thin necks then, eh?” muttered the old woman with +a laugh. “You shall have none at all, your head shall be fixed between +your shoulders, that it may not fall down from the little body.” + +“Don’t talk such nonsense to the little boy,” at length said the +cobbler’s wife, indignant at the long-looking, examining, and smelling +of the things; “if you wish to buy any thing be quick, for you scare +away all my other customers.” + +“Well, be it as you say,” cried the old woman, with a furious look, “I +will buy these six heads of cabbages; but you see I must support myself +by my stick, and cannot carry any thing, therefore, allow your little +son to carry them home for me, I will reward him for it.” + +The little boy would not go with her, and began to cry, for he was +terrified at the ugly old woman, but his mother commanded him earnestly +to go, as she thought it a sin to load the feeble old soul with this +burden. Still sobbing, he did as he was ordered, and followed the old +woman over the market. + +She proceeded but slowly, and was almost three-quarters of an hour +before she arrived at a very remote part of the town, where she at +length stopped in front of a small dilapidated house. She now pulled +out of her pocket an old rusty hook, and thrust it dexterously into a +small hole in the door, which immediately opened with a crash. But +what was the astonishment of little James as he entered! The interior +of the house was magnificently adorned, the ceiling and walls were of +marble, the furniture of the most beautiful ebony, inlaid with gold and +polished stones, the floor was of glass, and so smooth, that little +James several times slipped and fell down. The old woman now took a +small silver whistle from her pocket, and blew a tune on it which +sounded shrilly through the house. Immediately some guinea-pigs came +down the stairs, and little James was much amazed at their walking +upright on their hind legs, wearing on their paws nut-shells instead of +shoes, men’s clothes on their bodies, and even hats in the newest +fashion on their heads. + +“Where are my slippers, ye rascally crew?” cried the old woman, +striking at them with her stick, so that they jumped squeaking into the +air; “how long am I to stand here waiting?” + +They quickly scampered up the stairs and returned with a pair of +cocoa-nut shells lined with leather, which they placed dexterously upon +the old woman’s feet. + +Now all her limping and shuffling was at an end. She threw away her +stick, and glided with great rapidity over the glass floor, pulling +little James after her with her hand. At length she stopped in a room +which was adorned with a great variety of utensils, and which almost +resembled a kitchen, although the tables were of mahogany, and the +sofas covered with rich cloth, more fit for a drawing-room. + +“Sit down,” said the old woman, very kindly, pressing him into a corner +of a sofa, and placing a table before him in such a manner that he +could not get out again; “sit down, you have had a heavy load to carry, +human heads are not so light--not so light.” + +“But, woman,” replied the little boy, “you talk very strangely; I am, +indeed, tired, but they were cabbage heads I was carrying, and you +bought them of my mother.” + +“Why, you know but little about that,” said the old woman, laughing, as +she took the lid from the basket and brought out a human head, which +she held by the hair. The little boy was frightened out of his senses +at this; he could not comprehend how it all came to pass; and thinking +of his mother, he said to himself, “If any one were to hear of these +human heads, my mother would certainly be prosecuted.” + +“I must give you some reward now, as you are so good,” muttered the old +woman; “have patience for a minute, and I will prepare you a soup which +you will remember all your life.” Having said this, she whistled +again, and immediately there came first some guinea-pigs dressed like +human beings; they had tied round them kitchen aprons, fastened by a +belt, in which were stuck ladles and carving-knives; after them came +skipping in a number of squirrels, that wore large, wide Turkish +trousers, walked upright, and had small caps of green velvet on their +heads. These seemed to be the scullions, for they climbed very nimbly +up the walls and brought down pans and dishes, eggs and butter, herbs +and flour, and carried it to the hearth. The old woman slided +continually to and fro upon her cocoa-nut slippers, and little James +observed that she was very anxious to cook something good for him. Now +the fire crackled and blazed up higher, there was a smoking and +bubbling in the saucepan, and a pleasant odour spread over the room, +but the old woman kept running up and down, the squirrels and +guinea-pigs after her, and as often as she passed the hearth she poked +her long nose into the pot. At length it began to boil and hiss, the +steam rose from the pot, and the scum flowed down into the fire. She +then took off the saucepan, and pouring some into a silver basin, gave +it to James. + +“Now, my dear little son, now,” said she, “eat this soup and you will +have in your own person all that you admired so much in me. You shall +moreover become a clever cook, that you may be something at least, but +as for the herb, that you shall never find, because your mother did not +have it in her basket.” + +The little boy did not exactly understand what she was saying, but was +the more attentive to eating his soup, which he relished uncommonly. +His mother had cooked various savoury soups, but never any like this. +The flavour of the fine herbs and spice ascended from it, and it was at +the same time very sweet, and very sharp and strong. While he was +sipping the last drops of the delicious soup, the guinea-pigs lighted +some Arabian incense which floated through the room in blue clouds, +which became thicker and thicker, and then descended. The smell of the +incense had a stupifying effect upon the boy; in vain did he repeatedly +say to himself that he must return to his mother, for as often as he +endeavoured to rouse himself, as often did he relapse into slumber and, +at length, actually fell into a profound sleep upon the old woman’s +sofa. + +Strange dreams came over him, while he thus slept. It seemed as if the +old woman was taking off his clothes, and putting on him the skin of a +squirrel. Now he could make bounds and climb like a squirrel; he +associated with the other squirrels and guinea-pigs, who were all very +polite, decent people, and he did his duty of waiting upon the old +woman in his turn with the rest. At first he had to perform the +service of a shoeblack, that is, he had to oil and polish the cocoa-nut +shells which his mistress wore instead of slippers. Having often +blacked and polished shoes at home, he performed his duty well and +quickly. After the lapse of about one year, he dreamt again, +(according to the sequel of his dream) that he was employed for more +delicate work, that is, in company with some other squirrels, he was +obliged to catch the atoms in the sun, and, when they had caught +enough, to sift them through the finest hair-sieve, as the old woman +considered them the nicest thing, and not being able to masticate well +for want of teeth, had her bread prepared of such atoms. + +At the end of another year, he was raised to the rank of one of the +servants who had to collect the water the old woman drank. But you +must not suppose that she had a cistern dug for that purpose, or a tub +placed in the yard to catch the rain-water; she had a much finer plan. +The squirrels, and James with them, had to collect in their hazel-nut +shells the dew from roses, and this was the beverage of the old woman. +The labour of these water-carriers was not a very light one, as she +used to drink a prodigious quantity. After another year, he was +employed in in-door service, his duty being to clean the floors, and as +they were of glass and showed the least speck, it was not a very easy +task. He and his fellow-servants were obliged to brush the floors, and +with pieces of old cloth tied to their feet dexterously skated about +the rooms. In the fourth year, he received an appointment in the +kitchen, which was so honourable an office, that one could succeed to +it only after a long probation. James here served from scullion +upwards to the post of first pastrycook, and acquired such an +extraordinary skill and experience in every thing relating to the +culinary art, that often he could not help wondering at himself; the +most difficult things, pies composed of two hundred different +ingredients, soups prepared with all the herbs of the globe,--all +these, and many other things, he learned to make quickly and +efficiently. + +Seven years had thus passed away in the service of the old woman, when +one day, pulling off her shoes of cocoa-nut, and taking her basket and +crutch in hand in order to go out, she told him to pluck a chicken, +stuff it with herbs, and roast it nice and brown, during her absence. +He did this according to the rules of his art; twisted the chicken’s +neck, scalded it in hot water, pulled out the feathers cleverly, +scraped its skin smooth and fine, and then drew it. Next he began +gathering the herbs with which he was to stuff the chicken. Now when +he came to the chamber where these herbs were kept, he perceived a +small cupboard in the wall that he had never before noticed, and +finding the door of it half open, he had the curiosity to go near, in +order to see what it contained, when behold! there stood a great many +little baskets in it, from which proceeded a strong pleasant smell. He +opened one of these little baskets, and found in it a herb of a most +singular form and colour; its stalks and leaves were of a bluish green, +and it had a flower of burning red fringed with yellow at the top. He +looked thoughtfully at this flower, and smelled it, when it emitted the +same powerful odour as the soup which the old woman had cooked for him +when he first came there. But the smell was so strong that he began to +sneeze, was obliged to keep sneezing, and at last awoke, sneezing still. + +He now found himself upon the old woman’s sofa, and looked around him +with astonishment. “Heavens!” he said to himself, “how vividly one may +dream; I would almost have sworn that I was a wanton squirrel,--a +companion of guinea-pigs and other vermin, but at the same time had +become a great cook. How my mother will laugh when I tell her all +this! But will she not also scold me for falling asleep in a strange +house instead of helping her in the market?” While engaged in these +thoughts, he started up to run away; but his limbs were still quite +stiff with sleep, and particularly his neck, for he was unable to move +his head well to and fro. He could not help smiling at himself and his +drowsiness, for every moment, before he was aware, he ran his nose +against a cupboard or the wall, or turning suddenly round, struck it +against a door-post. The squirrels and guinea-pigs crowded whining +around him, as if anxious to accompany him, and he actually invited +them to do so when he was on the threshold, for they were nice little +creatures, but they glided quickly back into the house on their +nutshells, and he only heard them howling at a distance. + +As it was a very remote part of the town to which the old woman had +brought him, he could hardly find his way through the narrow streets, +and as, moreover, there was a great crowd of people, wherever he went, +he could only account for this by supposing there must be a dwarf +somewhere in the neighbourhood for show, for he heard everywhere cries +of, “Only look at the ugly dwarf! Where does the dwarf come from? O! +what a long nose he has, and how his head sits between his shoulders, +and look at his brown ugly hands!” At any other time, he would +probably have followed the cry, for he was very fond of seeing giants +and dwarfs, and any sort of curious, foreign costume, but now he was +obliged to hurry and get to his mother. + +He felt quite weary when he arrived at the market. He found his mother +still sitting there, and she had a tolerable quantity of fruit in the +basket; he could not therefore have been sleeping long, but still it +appeared to him, even at a distance, as if she were very melancholy, +for she did not call to those coming past to buy, but supported her +head by one hand, and on coming closer he likewise thought she looked +paler than usual. He hesitated as to what he should do; and at length +mustering up courage, crept gently behind her, and putting his hand +familiarly upon her arm, asked, “Dear mother, what’s the matter with +you? are you angry with me?” + +The woman turned round, but started back with a shriek of terror, +saying, “What do you want with me, you ugly dwarf? Begone, begone! I +do not like such jokes.” + +“But mother, what is the matter with you?” asked James, quite +terrified; “surely you must be unwell, why will you turn your son away +from you?” + +“I have told you already to be gone,” replied Jane, angrily; “you will +not get any money from me by your juggleries, you ill-favoured monster.” + +“Surely God has deprived her of the light of her intellect,” said the +dwarf, deeply grieved within himself; “what shall I do to get her home? +Dear mother, pray do listen to reason; only look well at me, I am +indeed your son--your own James.” + +“Why this is carrying the joke too far,” she said to her neighbour; +“only look at that ugly dwarf; there he stands, and will no doubt drive +away all my customers; nay, he even dares to ridicule my misfortune, +telling me that he is my son, my own James, the impudent fellow.” + +At this her neighbours rose, and began as much abuse as possible, +(every one knows that market women understand this well,) and +reproaching him with making light of poor Jane’s misfortune, who seven +years ago had had her beautiful boy kidnapped, with one accord they +threatened to fall upon him and tear him to pieces, unless he took +himself off immediately. + +Poor James did not know what to make of all this. Indeed it seemed to +him that he had that very morning, as usual, gone to market with his +mother, had helped her to lay out her fruit, and had afterwards gone +with the old woman to her house, eaten some soup, slept a little while, +and had now come back; and yet his mother and her neighbours talked of +seven years, calling him at the same time an ugly dwarf. What then was +the change that had come over him? Seeing, at length, that his mother +would no longer listen to any thing he said, he felt the tears come in +his eyes, and went sorrowfully down the street towards the stall where +his father sat in the daytime mending shoes. + +“I am curious to see,” he thought to himself, “whether he, too, will +disown me? I will place myself in the doorway and talk to him.” And +having come there he did so and looked in. + +The cobbler was so busily engaged at work that he did not see him; but +happening to cast a look towards the door, he dropped shoe, twine, and +awl on the ground, and cried, with astonishment, “For Heaven’s sake +what is that?” + +“Good evening, master,” said the little dwarf, stepping inside the +booth. “How fare you?” + +“Badly, badly, my little gentleman,” replied James’s father, to his +utter amazement; for he, too, did not seem to recognise him. “I have +to do all the work myself, for I am alone and now getting old, and yet +I cannot afford to keep a journeyman.” + +“But have you no son to assist you in your work?” inquired the dwarf +further. + +“Indeed I had one, whose name was James, and he now must be a handsome, +quick lad, twenty years old, who might effectually assist me. Ah! what +a pleasant life I should lead! Even when he was twelve years old he +showed himself quite handy and clever, and understood a great deal of +the business. He was a fine engaging little fellow; he would soon have +brought me plenty of custom, so that I should no longer have been +mending shoes and boots but making new ones. But so goes the world.” + +“Where is your son, then?” asked James, in a tremulous voice. + +“That God only knows,” replied his father. “Seven years ago, yes! it +is just that now, he was stolen from us in the market-place.” + +“Seven years ago, you say?” cried James, with astonishment. + +“Yes, little gentleman, seven years ago; the circumstance is as fresh +in my memory as if it had happened to-day, how my poor wife came home +weeping and crying, saying that the child had not come back all day, +and that she had inquired and searched everywhere without finding him. +But I always said it would come to that; for James was a pretty child, +no one could help saying so, therefore my poor wife was proud of him +and fond of hearing people praise him, and often sent him with +vegetables and such like things to the houses of the gentlefolks. All +this was very well; he always received some present. But said I, mark +me, the town is large, and there are many bad people in it, so take +care of James. But it happened as I always said. Once there comes an +ugly old woman to the market, bargains for some fruits and vegetables, +and at length buys so much that she cannot carry it home herself. My +wife, kind soul, sends the lad with her, and--has never seen him again +since that hour.” + +“And that is now seven years, say you?” + +“Seven years this spring. We had him cried in the town, we went from +house to house inquiring; many had known and liked the pretty lad, and +searched with us, but all in vain. Neither did any one know the woman +who bought the vegetables; a very aged woman, however, ninety years +old, said, ‘it might possibly have been the wicked fairy, Krauterweis, +who once in fifty years comes to the town to buy various articles.’” + +Thus spoke James’s father hastily, hammering his shoes at the same +time, and drawing out at great length the twine with both hands. Now +by degrees light broke on the little dwarf’s mind, and he saw what had +happened to him, viz., that he had not been dreaming, but had served as +a squirrel seven years with the evil fairy. Rage and sorrow now filled +his heart almost to bursting. + +The old witch had robbed him of seven years of his youth, and what had +he in exchange? What was it that he could polish slippers of cocoa-nut +shell? that he could clean rooms with glass floors? that he had learned +all the mysteries of cooking, from the guinea pigs? Thus he stood for +some time meditating on his fate, when at length his father asked him-- + +“Do you want to purchase any thing, young gentleman? Perhaps a pair of +new slippers or, peradventure, a case for your nose?” he added, smiling. + +“What do you mean about my nose?” asked James; “why should I want a +case for it?” + +“Why,” replied the cobbler, “every one according to his taste; but I +must tell you, that if I had such a terrible nose, I should have a case +made for it of rose-coloured morocco. Look here, I have a beautiful +piece that is just the thing; indeed we should at least want a yard for +it. It would then be well guarded, my little gentleman; whereas now I +am sure you will knock it against every door-post and carriage you +would wish to avoid.” + +The dwarf was struck dumb with terror; he felt his nose, it was full +two hands long and thick in proportion. So then the old hag had +likewise changed his person; and hence it was his mother did not know +him, and people called him an ill-favoured dwarf. + +“Master,” said he, half crying to the cobbler, “have you no +looking-glass at hand in which I might behold myself?” + +“Young gentleman,” replied his father, gravely, “you have not exactly +been favoured as to appearance so as to make you vain, and you have no +cause to look often in the glass. You had better leave it off +altogether. It is with you a particularly ridiculous habit.” + +“Oh! pray let me look in the glass,” cried the dwarf. “I assure you it +is not from vanity.” + +“Leave me in peace, I have none in my possession; my wife has a little +looking-glass, but I do not know where she has hid it. If you really +must look into one,--why then, over the way lives Urban, the barber, +who has a glass twice as big as your head; look in there, and now, good +morning.” + +With these words his father pushed him gently out of the stall, locked +the door after him, and sat down again to his work. The little dwarf, +much cast down, went over the way to the barber, whom he well +remembered in former times. + +“Good morning, Urban,” said he to him, “I come to beg a favour of you, +be so kind as to let me look a moment in your looking-glass.” + +“With pleasure,” cried the barber, laughing, “there it is;” and his +customers who were about to be shaved laughed heartily with him. “You +are rather a pretty fellow, slim and genteel; you have a neck like a +swan, hands like a queen, and a turn-up nose, such as one seldom sees +excelled. A little vain you are of it, no doubt; but no matter, look +at yourself, people shall not say that envy prevented me from allowing +you to see yourself in my glass.” + +Thus spoke the barber, and a yell of laughter resounded through the +room. In the meantime the dwarf had stepped to the glass and looked at +himself. The tears came in his eyes, while saying to himself; “Yes, +dear mother, thus you could not indeed recognise your James, he did not +look like this in the days of your happiness, when you delighted to +show him off before the people?” His eyes had become little, like +those of pigs; his nose was immense, hanging over his mouth down to his +chin; his neck seemed to have been taken away altogether, for his head +sat low between his shoulders, and it was only with the greatest pain +that he could move it to the right or left; his body was still the same +size as it had been seven years ago, when he was twelve years old, so +that he had grown in width what others do in height, between the ages +of twelve and twenty. His back and chest stood out like two short, +well-filled bags; and this thick-set body was supported by small thin +legs, which seemed hardly sufficient to support their burden; but so +much the larger were his arms, which hung down from his body, being of +the size of those of a full-grown man; his hands were coarse, and of a +brownish hue, his fingers long, like spiders’ legs, and when he +stretched them to their full extent, he could touch the ground without +stooping. Such was little James’s appearance, now that he had become +an ugly dwarf. He now remembered the morning on which the old woman +had stopped before his mother’s baskets. All that he then had found +fault with in her--viz., her long nose, and ugly fingers--all these she +had given him, only omitting her long, palsied neck. + +“Well, my prince, have you looked enough at yourself now?” said the +barber, stepping up to him, and surveying him with a laugh. “Truly, if +we wished to dream of such a figure, we could hardly see one so +comical. Nevertheless, I will make you a proposition, my little man. +My shaving-room is tolerably well frequented, but yet not so much so as +I could wish. That arises from my neighbour, the barber Schaum, having +discovered a giant, who attracts much custom to his house. Now, to +become a giant is no great thing, after all, but to be such a little +man as you, is indeed a different thing. Enter my service, little man, +you shall have board and lodging, clothes and every thing; for this you +shall stand in my door-way in the morning, and invite people to come +in; you shall beat up the lather, hand the towel to the customers, and +you may be sure that we shall both make it answer; I shall get more +customers through you than my neighbour by his giant; and you will get +many presents.” + +The little man felt quite indignant at the proposal of serving as a +decoy to a barber. But was he not obliged to submit patiently to this +insulting offer? He, therefore, quietly told the barber he had no time +for such services, and went away. + +Although the evil hag had thus stunted his growth, yet she had had no +power to affect his mind, as he felt full well; for he no longer +thought and felt as he did seven years since, and believed that he had +become wiser and more sensible in the interval. He did not mourn for +the loss of his beauty, nor for his ugly appearance, but only that he +was driven from his father’s door like a dog. However, he resolved to +make another trial with his mother. + +He went again to her in the market, and entreated her to listen to him +patiently. He reminded her of the day on which he had gone with the +old woman; he called to her mind all the particular incidents of his +childhood, told her then how he had served seven years as a squirrel +with the fairy, and how she had changed him because he had then +ridiculed her person. + +The cobbler’s wife did not know what to think of all this. All that he +related of his childhood agreed with her own recollections, but when he +talked of serving seven years as a squirrel, she said, “It is +impossible; there are no fairies;” and when she looked at him she felt +a horror at the ugly dwarf, and would not believe that he could be her +son. At length she thought it would be best to talk the matter over +with her husband; therefore she took up her baskets and bade him go +with her. + +On arriving at the cobbler’s stall she said: “Look, this fellow +pretends to be our lost James. He has told me all the circumstances, +how he was stolen from us seven years since, and how he was enchanted +by a fairy.” + +“Indeed,” interrupted the cobbler in a rage, “has he told you this? +wait, you rogue!--I have told him all this an hour ago, and then he +goes to make a fool of you. Enchanted you have been, my little chap, +have you? Wait a bit, I will soon disenchant you!” So saying, he took +a bundle of straps that he had just cut, jumped up towards the dwarf, +and beat him on his humped back and his long arms, making the little +fellow scream with pain and run crying away. + +Now in that town, as in others, there were but few of those +compassionate souls who will support a poor unfortunate with a +ridiculous appearance. Hence it was that the unlucky dwarf remained +all day without food, and was obliged in the evening to choose for his +night’s quarters the steps of a church, though they were hard and cold. + +When on the following morning the first rays of the sun awoke him, he +began seriously to think how he should prolong his existence, now that +his father and mother had rejected him; he was too proud to serve as a +sign-board to a barber; he would not hire himself us a merry-andrew to +be exhibited; what then should he do? It now occurred to him that as a +squirrel he had made considerable progress in the culinary art, and +thought he might justly expect to prove a match for any cook; he +therefore resolved to turn his art to advantage. + +As soon, therefore, as the morning had dawned, and the streets became +animated, he entered a church and performed his devotions; thence he +proceeded on his way. The duke (the sovereign of the country) was a +notorious _gourmand_, who kept a good table, and sought cooks in all +parts of the world. To his palace the dwarf went. When he arrived at +the outer gate the porter asked his errand, and began to crack his +jokes on him; when he asked for the chief cook they laughed and led him +through the inner courts, and wherever he went the servants stood +still, looked at him, laughed heartily, and followed him, so that in a +short time a great posse of menials of all descriptions crowded up the +steps of the palace. The grooms threw away their curry-combs, the +running footmen ran with all their might, the carpet-spreaders ceased +beating their carpets, all crowded and thronged around him, as if the +enemy was at the gates, and the shouts of “A dwarf, a dwarf! have you +seen the dwarf?” filled the air. + +At this moment the steward of the palace, with a furious countenance +and a large whip in his hand, made his appearance at the door, crying, +“For Heaven’s sake, ye hounds, what is all this uproar for? Do you not +know that our gracious master is still asleep?” At the same time he +flourished his whip, laying it rather roughly about the backs of some +grooms and porters. + +“Why sir,” they all cried, “don’t you see that we are bringing a dwarf, +such a dwarf as you never saw?” The steward suppressed, though with +difficulty, a loud laugh, when he got sight of the little man, for he +was afraid that laughter would derogate from his dignity. He therefore +drove them all away with his whip except the dwarf, whom he led into +the house and asked what he wanted. Hearing that the little man wished +to see the master of the kitchen, he replied, “You make a mistake, my +little son; I suppose you want to see me, the steward of the palace, do +you not? You wish to become dwarf to the duke, is it not so?” + +“No, sir,” replied the dwarf, “I am a clever cook and skilled in the +preparation of all sorts of choice meats; be so kind as to bring me to +the master of the kitchen, perhaps he may be in want of my skill.” + +“Every one according to his wish, my little man; but you are an +inconsiderate youth. To the kitchen! why, as the duke’s dwarf you +would have nothing to do and plenty to eat and drink to your heart’s +desire, and fine clothes into the bargain. But we shall see; your +skill in the culinary art will hardly be such as a cook to the duke is +required to possess, and you are too good for a scullion.” As he said +the last words he took the dwarf by the hand and conducted him to the +apartments of the master of the kitchen. + +On arriving there the dwarf said, with so deep a bow that his nose +touched the floor, “Gracious, sir, are you in want of a skilful cook?” + +The master of the kitchen, surveying him from top to toe, burst into a +loud fit of laughter, and said, “What, you a cook? Do you think that +our hearths are so low that you could even look on one, though you +should stand on tiptoe, and stretch your head ever so much out of your +shoulders? My good little fellow, whoever sent you here to hire +yourself as a cook, has been making a fool of you.” Thus saying, the +master cook laughed heartily, and was joined by the steward of the +palace and all the servants in the room. + +But the dwarf was not to be discomposed by this. “Of what consequence +is it to waste a few eggs, a little syrup and wine, some flour and +spice, upon trial, in a house where there are plenty? Give me some +dainty dish to prepare,” said he, “procure all that is necessary for +it, and it shall be immediately prepared before your eyes, so that you +shall be constrained to avow that I am a first-rate cook.” + +While the dwarf was saying all this, and many other things, it was +strange to see how his little eyes sparkled, how his long nose moved to +and fro, and his fingers, which were like spider’s legs, suited their +movements to his words. + +“Well!” exclaimed the master cook, taking the steward by the arm, +“Well! be it so for the sake of the joke, let us go to the kitchen.” + +They walked through several large rooms and corridors till they came to +the kitchen. This was a large spacious building magnificently fitted +up; on twenty hearths fires were constantly burning, clear water was +flowing through the midst, serving also as a fishpond; in cupboards of +marble and choice wood, the stores were piled, which it was necessary +to have at hand for use, and on either side were ten rooms, in which +were kept all the delicious dainties for the palate which can be +obtained in all the countries of Europe or even the East. Servants of +all descriptions were running to and fro, handling and rattling kettles +and pans, with forks and ladles; but when the master cook entered, all +stood motionless, and the crackling of the fire, and the rippling of +the brook were alone to be heard. + +“What has the duke ordered for breakfast this morning?” he asked an old +cook, who always prepared the breakfast. + +“Sir, his highness has pleased to order the Danish soup, with the small +red Hamburg dumplings.” + +“Well,” continued the master cook, “did you hear what the duke wishes +to eat? Are you bold enough to attempt this difficult dish? At all +events the dumplings you will not be able to make, that is quite a +secret.” + +“Nothing easier than that,” replied the dwarf, to their astonishment; +for he had often made this dish when he was a squirrel. “Nothing +easier, only give me the herbs, the spices, fat of a wild boar, roots +and eggs for the soup; but for the dumplings,” said he, in a low voice, +so that only the master cook and the breakfast-maker could hear, “for +the dumplings I want various meats, wine, duck’s fat, ginger, and the +herb called the stomach comforter.” + +“Ah, by St. Benedict, to what enchanter have you been apprenticed?” +cried the cook in astonishment. “You have hit all to a hair, and as to +the noted herb, we did not know of that ourselves; yes! that must make +the dish still more delicious. Oh! you miracle of a cook!” + +“I should never have thought this,” said the master cook, “but let us +make the trial, give him all he asks and let him prepare the breakfast.” + +His orders were obeyed, and the necessary preparations were made on the +hearth; but they now found that the dwarf could not reach it. They +therefore put two chairs together, laid a slab of marble on them, and +asked the little wonder to step up and begin his skill. In a large +circle stood the cooks, scullions, servants, and others, looking at him +in amazement, to see how readily and quickly he proceeded, and how +cleanly and neatly he prepared every thing. When he had finished, he +ordered both dishes to be put to the fire, and to be boiled until he +should call out; then he began to count one, two, three, and so on up +to five hundred, when he cried out, “Stop, take them off,” and then +invited the head cook to taste them. + +The taster ordered the scullion to bring him a gold spoon, which he +first rinsed in the brook, and then gave it to the head cook. The +latter, stepping up to the hearth with a grave mien, took a spoonful, +tasted it, and shutting his eyes, smacked his lips with delight, +saying, “Delicious! by the duke’s life, delicious! Would you not like +to taste a spoonful, Mr. Steward?” The latter, bowing, took the spoon, +tasted it, and was beside himself with delight. + +“With all due respect to your skill, dear breakfast-maker, you aged and +experienced cook, you have never been able to make the soup or +dumplings so delicious.” + +The cook also tasted it, shook the dwarf reverentially by the hand, +saying, “My little man, you are a master of your art, yes, that herb +‘stomach comforter’ imparts a peculiar charm to the whole.” + +At this moment the duke’s valet entered the kitchen, and informed them +that the duke wished his breakfast. The preparations were now dished +up in silver, and sent up to the duke; but the head cook took the dwarf +to his own room to converse with him. They had scarcely sat down long +enough to say half a paternoster, when a messenger came and called the +head cook to the duke. He quickly put on his best clothes, and +followed the messenger. + +The duke looked well pleased, He had eaten all they had served, and was +just wiping his beard as the master-cook entered. “Master,” said he, +“I have hitherto always been well satisfied with your cooks; but tell +me who prepared the breakfast this morning? It never was so delicious +since I sat on the throne of my fathers; tell me the name of the cook, +that I may send him a ducat as a present.” + +“My lord, this is a strange story,” replied the master; and he told the +duke that a dwarf had been brought to him that morning, who earnestly +solicited the place of a cook, and how all had happened. The duke was +greatly astonished, ordered the dwarf to appear, and asked him who he +was, and whence he came. Now poor James did not exactly wish to say +that he had been enchanted, and had served as a squirrel. But yet he +adhered to truth, telling him that he now had neither father nor +mother, and had learned cooking of an old woman. Much amused by the +strange appearance of his new cook, the duke asked no more questions, +but said, “If you wish to remain here, I will give you fifty ducats +a-year, a suit of livery, and two pair of breeches beside. Your duty +shall be to prepare my breakfast; yourself every day to give directions +how the dinner shall be prepared, and to take the general +superintendence of the cooking. As each in my palace has his proper +name, you shall be called ‘Nose,’ and hold the office of +sub-master-cook.” + +The dwarf prostrated himself before the mighty duke, kissed his feet, +and promised to serve him faithfully. + +Thus the dwarf was for the present provided for, and did honour to his +office. And it must be remarked that the duke had become quite an +altered man since Nose the dwarf had been in the palace. Formerly, he +had often been pleased to throw the dishes and plates that were served +up at the heads of the cooks; indeed, he even once, in a fit of rage, +threw a fried calf’s foot that was not sufficiently tender, with such +violence at the head of the master-cook, that the latter fell to the +ground, and was compelled for three days to keep his bed. ’Tis true, +the duke made him amends for what he had done by some handfuls of +ducats, but still no cook ever came before him with his dishes, without +trembling and terror. + +Ever since the dwarf had been in the palace, all seemed to be changed, +as if by magic. The duke, instead of three, had now five meals a day, +in order to relish properly the skill of his little servant, and yet +never showed the least sign of discontent. Indeed, he found all new +and excellent, was kind and pleasant, and became fatter daily. + +He would often in the midst of a meal send for the master-cook and the +dwarf, set one on his right, and the other on the left hand, and put +with his own gracious fingers some morsels of the delicious viands into +their mouths; a favour which both knew how to appreciate fully. The +dwarf was the wonder of the whole town, and people requested the +permission of the master-cook to see him cook, while some of the +principal folks prevailed upon the duke to permit their servants to +profit by the instructions of the dwarf in his kitchen, by which he +obtained much money, for those who came to learn paid daily half a +ducat. In order, however, to keep the other cooks in good humour, and +prevent jealousy, Nose let them have the money that was paid by the +masters for instruction. + +Thus Nose lived almost two years in great comfort and honour, the +thought of his parents alone saddening him, and nothing remarkable +occurring until the following circumstance happened. The dwarf being +particularly clever, and fortunate in his purchases, went himself, as +often as time permitted, to the market, to buy poultry and fruit. One +morning he went to the poultry-market, and walking up and down inquired +for fat geese such as his master liked. His appearance, far from +creating laughter and ridicule, commanded respect, since he was known +as the duke’s celebrated cook, and each poultry-woman felt herself +happy if he but turned his nose to her. At length coming to the end of +a row of stalls, he perceived in a corner, a woman with geese for sale, +who did not, like the others, praise her goods, nor call to the +customers. + +He stepped up to her, examined the geese, weighed them in his hand, and +finding them to his liking, bought three, with the cage they were in, +put them on his shoulders and trotted home. It appeared singular to +him that only two of the geese cackled and cried like others, the third +being quite quiet and thoughtful, and occasionally groaning and moaning +like a human being. + +“She is not well,” said he to himself, “I must hasten to get home and +dress her.” But the goose replied, distinctly, + + “If thou stick’st me, + Why I’ll bite thee, + And if my neck thou twistest round. + Thou soon wilt lie below the ground.” + + +Quite startled, the dwarf put down the basket, and the goose, looking +at him with her fine intelligent eyes, sighed. “Why what have we +here?” cried Nose. “You can talk, Miss Goose. I never expected that. +Well, make yourself easy; I know the world and will not harm so rare a +bird. But I would wager something that you have not always been +covered with feathers. Indeed I was once a poor squirrel myself.” + +“You are right,” replied the goose, “in saying I was not born with this +disgraceful disguise. Alas! it was never sung at my cradle that Mimi, +the great Wetterbock’s daughter, would be killed in the kitchen of a +duke.” + +“Pray be easy, dear Miss Mimi,” said the dwarf, comforting her, “for as +sure as I am an honest fellow, and sub-master cook to his highness, no +one shall touch your throat. I will give you a stall in my own +apartments, you shall have enough food, and I will devote my leisure +time to converse with you. I’ll tell the others in the kitchen that I +am fattening a goose with various herbs for the duke, and at the first +opportunity you shall be set at liberty.” + +The goose thanked him, with tears in her eyes, and the dwarf, as he had +promised, killed the other two geese, but built a stall for Mimi, under +the pretence of preserving her for some special occasion. Instead of +feeding her on grain he gave her pastry and sweetmeats. As often as he +had time he went to converse with her and comfort her. They related +their histories to each other, and Nose learnt that she was the +daughter of the enchanter, Wetterbock, who lived in the island of +Gothland. Being involved in a quarrel with an old fairy, her father +had been conquered by stratagems and cunning, and out of revenge the +fairy had changed her into a goose, and brought her to the town. + +When the dwarf told his history, she said, “I am not inexperienced in +these matters, my father having given me and my sisters what +instruction he was allowed to impart. The story of the dispute at your +mother’s fruit stall, your sudden metamorphosis, when you smelled the +herb, as well as the words the old woman used, show me that you are +enchanted through herbs; that is to say, if you can find out the herb +of which the fairy thought when she bewitched you, you may be +disenchanted.” This was but poor consolation for the dwarf, for how +should he find the herb? Yet he thanked her and felt some hope. + +About this time the duke had a visit from a neighbouring prince, his +friend. He, therefore, ordered the dwarf to appear, and said, “Now is +the time for you to show whether you serve me faithfully and are master +of your art. The prince, who is now visiting me, keeps, as is well +known, the best table after me. He is a great connoisseur in good +living, and a wise man. Let it now be your care to supply my table +every day so that his astonishment shall daily become greater. But you +must not, under pain of my displeasure, repeat the same dish during his +visits. You may ask of my treasurer all you want, and should it be +needful to fry gold and diamonds you must do it. I would rather become +poor than forfeit his good opinion of my taste.” + +When the duke had concluded, the dwarf bowed most respectfully, saying, +“be it as you say, my lord; please God I shall do all to gratify the +palate of this prince of gourmands.” + +The little cook now mustered all his skill. He did not spare his +master’s treasures, and still less did he spare himself. He was seen +all day at the fire, enveloped by clouds of smoke, and his voice +constantly resounded through the vaults of the kitchen, for he governed +the scullions and under cooks. + +During a fortnight the foreign prince lived happily, and feasted +sumptuously with the duke. They ate not less than five times a day, +and the duke was delighted with his dwarf, seeing satisfaction +expressed on the countenance of his guest. But on the fifteenth day it +happened, that the duke, while at table, sent for the dwarf, presented +him to his guest, and asked how he was satisfied with his cooking? + +“You are a wonderful cook,” replied the prince, “and know what good +living is. All the time I have been here you have not repeated a +single dish, and have prepared every thing exquisitely. But pray tell +me, why have you not all this time prepared that queen of dishes, the +pie called ‘souzeraine?’” + +The dwarf was startled at this question, for he had never heard of this +queen of pies; however he recovered himself and replied, “My lord, I +was in hopes that your serene countenance would shine some time yet on +this court, therefore I deferred this dish; for with what dish but the +queen of pies should the cook honour the day of your departure?” + +“Indeed!” said the duke, laughing; “I suppose then you wish to wait for +the day of my death to honour me, for you have never yet sent it up to +me. But think of another dish to celebrate the departure, for +to-morrow that pie must be on the table.” + +“Your pleasure shall be done, my lord,” replied the dwarf, and retired. +But he went away uneasy, for the day of his disgrace and misfortune had +come. He did not know how to prepare this pie. He went therefore to +his chamber, and wept over his fate, when the goose Mimi, who was +allowed to walk about, came up and inquired the cause of his grief. +When she heard of the pie, “Dry your tears,” said she, “this dish came +often to my father’s table, and I know pretty well what is necessary +for it; you have only to take such and such things in certain +quantities, and should these not be all that are really necessary, I +trust that the taste of these gentlemen is not sufficiently refined to +discover the deficiency.” + +At these words the dwarf danced with joy, blessed the day on which he +had purchased the goose, and set about making this queen of pies. He +first made a trial in miniature, and lo! the flavour was exquisite, and +the master-cook, to whom he gave the small pie to taste, praised once +more his great skill. + +The following day he prepared the pie on a larger scale, and, after +having garnished it with flowers, sent it hot as it came from the oven +to table. After which he dressed in his best and went to the +dining-hall. On entering, he found the steward engaged in carving the +pie, and presenting it on silver dishes to the duke and his guest. The +duke swallowed a large piece, turned his eyes upward, saying “ha! ha! +ha! justly is this called the queen of pies; but my dwarf is also a +king of cooks. Is it not so, my friend?” + +His guest took a small morsel, tasted it carefully, and smiled somewhat +scornfully and mysteriously. + +“The thing is made pretty well,” replied he, pushing his plate away, +“but it is not quite the Souzeraine, as I well imagined.” + +At this the duke frowned with indignation, and turned red, saying, “You +hound of a dwarf, how dare you do this to your lord? I will have your +big head cut off as a punishment for your bad cooking.” + +“Ah, my lord,” said the dwarf trembling, “for Heaven’s sake have +compassion on me; I have made that dish, indeed, according to the +proper receipt, and am sure that nothing is wanting.” + +“’Tis a lie, you knave,” replied the duke, giving him a kick, “’tis a +lie; else my guest would not say there was something wanting. I will +have you yourself cut up and baked in a pie.” + +“Have compassion on me!” exclaimed the dwarf, shuffling on his knees up +to the prince, and clasping his feet; “tell me what is wanting to this +pie and why it does not suit your palate: let me not die for a handful +of meat or flour.” + +“This will not avail you, my good Nose,” replied the prince, +laughing; “even yesterday I thought you would not be able to make +this dish as well as my cook. Know there is wanting a herb called +Sneeze-with-pleasure, which is not even known in this country. Without +it this pie is insipid, and your master will never eat it in such +perfection as I do.” + +At this the duke flew into a rage, and cried with flashing eyes: + +“I will eat it in perfection yet, for I swear by my princely honour, +that by to-morrow I will either have the pie set before you, such as +you desire it, or the head of this fellow shall be spiked on the gate +of my palace. Go, you hound, I give you once more twenty-four hours!” +cried the duke. + +The dwarf again went to his chamber and mourned over his fate with the +goose that he must die, as he had never heard of this herb. “If it is +nothing more,” said she, “I can help you out of the difficulty, as my +father has taught me to know all herbs. At any other time your death, +no doubt would have been certain, and it is fortunate for you that we +have a new moon, as the herb is only then in flower. Now tell me, are +there any old chesnut trees in the neighbourhood of the palace?” + +“Oh yes,” replied Nose, with a lighter heart, “near the lake, about two +hundred yards from the palace, there is a clump of them; but what of +them?” + +“Why,” said Mimi, “the herb only flowers at the foot of them. Now let +us lose no time but go to fetch what you want; take me on your arm, and +put me down when we get out, that I may search for you.” + +He did as she requested, and went towards the gate of the palace, but +here the porter levelled his gun and said: “My good Nose, it is all +over with you, you must not pass; I have strict orders respecting you.” + +“But I suppose I may go into the garden,” replied the dwarf. “Be so +good as to send one of your fellow servants to the master of the +palace, and ask whether I may not go into the garden to fetch herbs.” +The porter did so and permission was given, since, the garden having +high walls, escape was impossible. But when Nose and Mimi had got out +he put her carefully down, and she ran quickly before him towards the +lake, where the chesnuts were. He followed with a heavy heart, since +this was his last and only hope. If she did not find the herb he was +resolved rather to plunge into the lake than to have his head cut off. +The goose searched in vain under all the chesnut trees; she turned +every herb with her beak, but no trace of the one wanted was to be +found, and she now began to cry out of compassion and fear for the +dwarf, as the evening was already growing dusk, and the objects around +were difficult to distinguish. + +At this moment the dwarf cast a glance across the lake, and cried +suddenly: “Look, look, yonder across the lake there stands a large old +tree; let us go there and search; perhaps my luck may bloom there.” +The goose hopped and flew before him, and he ran after her as quickly +as his short legs would permit him; the chesnut tree cast a large +shade, and it was so dark around that scarcely anything could be +distinguished; but suddenly the goose stopped, flapped her wings for +joy, put her head quickly into the high grass, and plucked something +which she reached gracefully with her bill to the astonished Nose, +saying; “There is the herb, and plenty is growing here, so that you +will never want for it.” + +The dwarf looked thoughtfully at the herb, and a sweet odour arose from +it, which immediately reminded him of the scene of his metamorphosis; +the stalk and leaves were of a blueish green, bearing a glowing red +flower, with a yellow edge. + +“God be praised!” he now exclaimed, “What a miracle! I believe this is +the very herb that transformed me from a squirrel into this hideous +form; shall I make a trial, to see what effect it will have on me!” + +“Not yet,” entreated the goose. “Take a handful of this herb with you, +let us go to your room and put up all the money and whatever you have, +and then we will try the virtue of the herb.” + +They did so, and went again to his room, the dwarf’s heart beating +audibly with anticipation. After having put up about fifty or sixty +ducats which he had saved, he tied up his clothes in a bundle, and +said: “If it please God, I shall get rid of my burthensome deformity.” +He then put his nose deep into the herb and inhaled its odour. + +Now his limbs began to stretch and crack, he felt how his head started +from his shoulders, he squinted down on his nose and saw it became +smaller and smaller, his back and chest became straight, and his legs +longer. + +The goose viewed all this with great astonishment, exclaiming, “Ah, +what a tall handsome fellow you have now become. God be praised, there +is no trace left in you of what you were before.” Now James was highly +rejoiced, he folded his hands and prayed. But his joy did not make him +forget what he owed to Mimi the goose; his heart indeed urged him to go +to his parents, yet from gratitude he overcame his wish and said, “To +whom but to you am I indebted that I am again restored to my former +self? Without you I should never have found this herb, but should have +continued for ever in that form, or else have died under the axe of the +executioner. Well, I will repay you. I will bring you back to your +father; he being so experienced in magic will be able easily to +disenchant you.” + +The goose shed tears of joy and accepted his offer. James fortunately +escaped unknown from the palace with his goose, and started on his way +for the sea-coast towards Mimi’s home. + +It is needless to add that their journey was successful, that +Wetterbock disenchanted his daughter, and dismissed James laden with +presents; that the latter returned to his native town, that his parents +with delight recognized in the handsome young man their lost son, that +he, with the presents that he had received, purchased a shop and became +wealthy and happy. + +Only this much may be added, that after his departure from the duke’s +palace, there was a great sensation, for when, on the next morning, the +duke was about to fulfil his oath, and to have the dwarf beheaded in +case he had not discovered the herbs, he was nowhere to be found; and +the prince maintained that the duke had let him escape secretly rather +than lose his best cook, and accused him of breaking his word of +honour. This circumstance gave rise to a great war between the two +princes, which is well known in history by the name of the “Herb War.” +Many battles were fought, but at length a peace was concluded, which is +now called the “Pie Peace,” because at the festival of reconciliation +the Souzeraine, queen of pies, was prepared by the prince’s cook, and +relished by the duke in the highest degree. + +Thus the most trifling causes often lead to the greatest result; and +this, reader, is the story of “Nose, the Dwarf.” + +C. A. F. + + + + +AXEL. + +A TALE OF THE THIRTY YEARS’ WAR. + +BY C. F. VAN DER VELDE. + +The beautiful Tugendreich von Starschedel was standing in the baronial +hall of her ancestral castle before the pedigree of her family, which +occupied the space between two pillars in the wall. Her little hand +powerfully pressed her heaving bosom, as if it wished to check the +violent palpitation of her agitated heart, and her dark blue eyes +wandered stealthily from the gay escutcheons and glanced through the +lofty arched windows into the open riding-course, in which Axel, the +groom, was just then breaking in a young stallion, with all the grace +and strength of the horse-tamer Castor. + +“Well,” said Gundchen, her maid, who was leaning against the window, +“there is nothing, in my opinion, like a good horseman. Only look, +gracious Fräulein, how the untamed animal is rearing, and how the man +sits on him like a puppet.” + +“That is a silly picture, if it is intended to be flattering,” said +Tugendreich, and blushing, she stepped to the window, as she feared she +had betrayed herself. + +“Do not torment yourself so much, Axel,” cried the baron from the +window. “You and Hippolytus may break your necks together; he is sure +not to leap, and the master of the stable has given him up already.” + +“All depends on the rider,” replied Axel, with powerful voice. “He +shall leap, I assure you, though he had Wallenstein and Tilly on him.” +So saying, he pressed the snorting animal with great strength, and +gallopped with him to the end of the course, that he might better leap +the bar. + +“A devil of a fellow this Axel,” said the nobleman, laughing in +approbation. + +“Heavens!” shrieked Gundchen, “there will be an accident,” and +Tugendreich suppressed a sigh of anguish. With frightful side-leaps, +the black horse furiously galloped towards the bar. At this moment the +little daughter of the gardener ran across the course, and frightened +at the approaching furious steed, fell just under his fore feet. +Terror prevented the spectators from crying out, but Axel saw the child +at the critical moment when the hoof was raised over its head, and, +thinking of its peril, only reined the leaping horse suddenly in with +such force that he fell rearing on his haunches. + +“He will fall back,” cried the baron. + +“I cannot look upon it,” exclaimed Gundchen, holding her hands before +her eyes, and Tugendreich leaned against the recess as white as her +veil. In the meanwhile Axel had given the horse so violent a blow on +the head, that he was on his legs again and stood trembling; he +dismounted, lifted the crying child gently from the ground and kissing +it, carried it to its mother, who came up running and shrieking. + +“Gallantly done,” cried the nobleman, “but the experiment might have +cost your life.” + +“Better that Hippolytus and I should die than the innocent child,” +replied Axel. He mounted again, and the steed now knowing his master, +leaped readily and gracefully without a run over the high bar. + +“Well done,” cried the nobleman again. “Come up, you shall have a +bottle of wine for that.” “I must first cool the animal,” was Axel’s +short reply, as he rode off in a gentle trot. “This fellow is not to +be bought for gold,” muttered the baron; “but he sometimes assumes a +tone that makes it doubtful which of us two is the master and which the +groom.” + +Tugendreich, agitated by the scene she had just witnessed, was about to +leave the hall. On her way, she again passed the pedigree, and turning +her glowing countenance upon it, a black escutcheon met her eye. This +belonged to a lateral relation whom her father had only recently struck +out on account of a misalliance. With a gloomy foreboding she gazed at +it, then cast an anxious glance upon the one bearing her name, and +hurried sobbing from the hall. + +About an hour after this, Tugendreich met the dangerous groom in the +anti-room of her father’s closet. Their eyes flashed as they met each +other, but both immediately looked on the ground while a blush, like +the sky tinged by the rising sun, overspread her cheeks. “The +gardener’s little Rosa has recovered from her fright,” she whispered +softly, “I have just left her.” + +“May heaven reward you, Fräulein, that sent you upon earth as a +ministering reconciling angel!” cried the groom with transport. + +“But promise me, Axel, not to ride so furiously again; I have been in +great anxiety about thee,” stammered Tugendreich, becoming confused in +the midst of her speech, as she had not yet settled in her mind as to +whether she should address this groom by “thee,” or “you.”[1] + +“About me? This makes me indescribably happy,” said Axel with delight, +and suddenly raised her beautiful hand to his lips, imprinting a fiery +kiss on it. At this she appeared angry, withdrew her hand from his +bold grasp, though a minute too late, and saying, “You forget +yourself,” quickly left the room. + +Axel’s eyes followed her with rapture, and he then entered his master’s +room and found him in company with Magister Talander, his spiritual +adviser and factotum, playing chess, and exchanging high words. In +vain did the excited magister prove from _Damiano, Phillippo, Carrera_, +and _Gustavo Seleno_, that the adversary’s piece which threatened one +of the squares over which the king must be moved, was one of the five +impediments to castling the king. In vain did he assert that +_Palmedes, Xerxes, Satrenshah_, and even _Tamerlan_ could not have +played otherwise. The baron stood to his own opinion, and said, the +absurdity of the rule was so evident, that even his groom Axel, if he +had but a notion of the moves, could not but see it. + +“I know the moves, and you are wrong,” interrupted Axel. With open +mouth, the master wondered at the impudence of his servant, who quietly +added: “You forget that the question here is about a paltry king of +chess, about an indolent, cowardly despot, who is only born to be +protected by his people; and if ever compelled to act himself, moves in +a narrow, pitiful circle. It is quite consistent that such a king +should take the only important step in his life with the utmost +caution, and avoid doing it if there is the least appearance of danger. +_My_ king, indeed, would not recognise himself in this picture.” + +“What does the fellow mean by talking about _his_ king?” muttered the +old baron. “Our gracious sovereign is the elector of Saxony.” + +“But not mine,” was Axel’s proud reply. “I have the honour to be a +Swede.” + +“For heaven’s sake, Magister, tell me whence this fellow gets his +pride, and bold words?” asked the baron softly. + +“Why, I have already had my meditations on that subject,” replied he, +with a shake of the head; and the old baron said, in a commanding tone +to Axel: “There’s your wine, but you shall drink to the health of our +lord elector.” + +“Most joyfully,” replied Axel, filling a bumper, and raising it in the +air; “here’s to the health of your noble elector, and my heroic king, +and may the concluded alliance prove a blessing to Saxony and to Sweden +for many generations to come.” + +“Well, that is something new again,” replied the baron, sarcastically; +“I suppose you were in the cabinet when the alliance was concluded. +Unfortunately we have not come to that yet.” + +“We have come to it, my lord,” replied Axel, familiarly tapping the +baron on the shoulder; “your elector is no chess king, who is afraid to +take a quick and decisive step that shall decide the welfare of his +land.” + +He went away, and the two old gentlemen sat, struck with astonishment, +staring at each other, like the pair of lions at Dresden. + +In melancholy mood, Tugendreich was standing before an old decayed +shaft, to which her walk had brought her, and her maid, like Fräulein’s +little spaniel, was crawling about among the bushes in search of +something. At this moment Talander came up to them, laden with a large +bundle of plants on his return from botanising. To his inquiries, as +to what they were in search of, Tugendreich informed him, that, in +running down a hill, she had laid hold of a branch, and twisted from +her finger a beautiful sapphire ring, a beloved legacy of her late +mother, which had probably rolled into the shaft, as they had at +present searched for it in vain. + +“Oh, what youthful levity!” replied the magister, in a grumbling voice. +“This precious stone ought not to have been merely valuable to you as a +remembrance of your revered mother, but, having been dug and cut out +under particular constellations, it was the talisman of your life. +Have you been forgetful enough not to remember that the greatest +secrets of nature lie in _verbis, herbis et lapidibus_? A foreboding +which rarely deceives me, tells me that this loss will have a decisive +influence on your fate.” + +Tugendreich listened anxiously to the words of the old tutor, which she +was wont to consider as oracles. + +“Do not grieve too much, however,” continued the old man, in a milder +tone, “the same foreboding tells me also that the hand from which you +will receive back the lost stone, will also lead you to the true +happiness of your life.” Thus saying, he walked slowly down the +foot-path towards the castle, while Tugendreich looked thoughtfully +after him. A crackling and rustling was heard in the branches of an +old pine-tree standing near the shaft, and from its top, which touched +a high rock, descended a sturdy huntsman, boldly leaping from bough to +bough, who soon stood before the astonished maiden as Axel. + +“I overheard all,” he said, with rapture, “and joyfully will risk my +life to make good the prophetic words of Talander. You shall see me +either with the ring or not at all. In the latter case shed a tear +over my grave.” And before the Fräulein could raise her hand to +prevent him, the audacious man rushed into the shaft, and with a dull +and rumbling noise pieces of earth and stones rolled after him into the +dark abyss. + +“He is lost,” sighed Tugendreich, sinking into the arms of Gundchen, +who, astonished by the clear light which broke upon her at this moment, +could not feel the same grief for the lost man. + +With a look of affection Tugendreich bent down over the shaft, so that +Gundchen thought it advisable to lay hold of the dress of her mistress +to prevent her from following her beloved, should she be inclined to do +so. A joyful sound now resounded from the depth below, and immediately +Axel was struggling up the shaft through various minerals that had shot +out in the shape of goblins, and with bleeding hand presented the lost +ring to the Fräulein. With a heavenly look the astonished girl thanked +him, while tears of gratitude fell on the wounded hand, which Axel +eagerly kissed away. Now, for the first time, she saw the blood on his +hand, shrieked aloud, and insisted upon binding the wound herself of +which she had been the cause. Slowly he offered his hand. Not seeing +the handkerchief which her maid offered, the Fräulein took her own, +binding it with the ribbon of the bow she wore on her own bosom. As +she let go his hand Axel fancied that he felt a gentle pressure, but +before he had time to think of this happy moment in which he saw a +symbol of his future happiness, the lovely girl had fled like a +frightened roe. As if in a dream he slowly pursued his way to the +castle, where Talander received him at the gate, being commissioned +from the Fräulein, and ready for every emergency, took out his case of +surgical instruments to dress his wound in due form. While doing this +the old man said, “You have a fine hand, almost too delicately formed +for your station; I suppose you have also seen military service, these +hard parts show that you have frequently handled the sword.” + +“Ah, true,” stammered the patient, embarrassed. + +“You seem altogether a strange customer,” continued Talander “and I am +somewhat curious to know more of you. Pray just show me the palm of +your hand.” + +“Never mind such fooleries, magister,” said Axel, withdrawing his hand. + +“Only ignorance judges hastily of what it does not understand,” said +the magister, angrily. “How can you thus with contempt reject that +noble chiromancy to which I have devoted myself for nearly a +generation.” Forcibly seizing the wounded hand he examined it long and +closely, then said, muttering, “Well, these lines indicate that you +were born for something superior to a stable. This line may be truly +called the _cingulum veneris_, it promises success in love; and here +are fame and honour and high dignities. Ah, ah, friend, you are not +what you appear.” + +“Your crotchets deceive you in a singular manner,” said Axel, +embarrassed, and wishing to escape. + +“The old Talander is no woman,” said the magister, “and therefore has +no crotchets, and has never deceived himself yet.” And, retaining his +hold of Axel, he added, “I tell you plainly you are no groom, and if +you were not a good evangelical Christian, and had not a pair of clear +faithful eyes, through which one may imagine that one can look into +your very heart, I should say you had some wicked design, and I should +communicate my suspicions to the baron.” + +“By heavens and my honour,” cried Axel, warmly, “my intentions are +pure.” + +“A groom may indeed be an honest man,” said Talander, mockingly, “but +it is something uncommon for him to give his word of honour; it sounds +rather cavalier-like, and you must act more in character. I have done +now,” continued he, fastening the bandage; “give me the handkerchief +and ribbon to return to the Fräulein.” + +“Never,” cried Axel, as he concealed the precious pledges in his bosom. + +“‘Never;’ say you, youngster! you are rather too bold for me,” said the +old man, menacing with his finger. “Go, settle it yourself with the +Fräulein. There she stands in the garden, near the rose-tree, herself +the most beautiful rose in the garden. How wicked must be that worm +that would malignantly approach this flower to poison its sweet +bloom--are you not of the same opinion?” + +“Indeed I am of the same opinion,” said the groom; “be unconcerned +about this sweet flower which so proudly sets forth your care as its +gardener. With the ray of love it will bloom more beautifully, and if +myrtle and laurel shall once be entwined around it you will weep tears +of joy.” + +“Amen,” said the old man, with emotion, and Axel ran to the garden to +Tugendreich. + +“The magister demanded from me the handkerchief and ribbon in your +name, Fräulein,” said Axel; “I only bring you back the former, stained +with the blood which flowed for you. May it speak a friendly word for +poor Axel, when some day he will sigh far from you. The ribbon I must +keep. It rested on your angelic heart, it is hallowed, and it will +also hallow and purify the heart upon which it shall rest from this +time.” + +Tugendreich wished to answer but was unable, she wished to look up but +could not. It then occurred to her that she ought really to be +indignant at this audacity, but that she could do still less; and the +beautiful rose which she held in her hand became the victim of her +inward struggle, for she plucked off leaf after leaf, dropping them on +the ground. + +“May I keep the ribbon?” asked Axel, imploringly. She at length raised +her beautiful eyes, and a ray of love flashed powerfully from them. +Enraptured he stretched out his arms to embrace her; deeply blushing, +she sank into them, and he pressed the first pure kiss of ardent love +on her lips. At this moment the baron suddenly appeared from behind +the hedge, contemplating the group with a truly noble horror. “Begone +to the castle!” he cried to his daughter; “to the stable!” he cried, in +a voice of thunder, to Axel. Like a finger-post, he pointed to the +places mentioned, and the frightened couple obeyed in silence. + + * * * * * + +In anxious expectation of what would follow, Tugendreich had been +standing for some time in the window of the baronial hall, from which +she had in the morning admired Axel’s horsemanship, when her father +came up to her with a wrathful countenance, seized her hand, and led +her to the gigantic portrait of the ancestors of the Starschedels, +which gloomily and menacingly looked down, as it were, from the gold +frame upon the delinquent. “Who is that?” asked the baron, with +suppressed wrath. + +“Magnus von Starschedel, the founder of our family,” repeated +Tugendreich, words which had been impressed on her memory from infancy. +“In the war against the emperor, Henry IV., Duke Rodolph of Swabia +dubbed him knight, A.D. 1078, at Stronow, near Mellenstädt; and he fell +in the battle fought against the same emperor, near Würzburg, A.D. +1086, after his valour had contributed to gain the victory.” + +“What think you this glorious knight would have done, if he had, like +myself, seen you from behind the hedge?” asked her father, while +Tugendreich cast her eyes down on the squares of the inlaid floors. +“He would have cleft the head of the unfaithful servant,” continued the +baron, raising his voice, “and thrown the degenerate girl into the +dungeon, until he should have placed her and her passion for ever in a +cloister.” + +The Fräulein gave a silent assent to the justice of this sentence. + +“Tugendreich! Tugendreich!” continued her father, reproaching her; +“why did I give you this lovely name?[2] I ought to have christened +you Philippe, for Talander has interpreted this name to me, to mean a +lover of horses, and it would therefore be some excuse for your +predilection for the stable.” + +Now a feeling of pride rose within her, and she cried, “I deserve +blame, but do not merit your contempt. My feelings are pure, and I +need not be ashamed of him.” + +The furious impetuosity of noble wrath would now have broken through +the last barrier of paternal love, when fortunately for the poor +Fräulein a loud shriek of terror resounded from the court-yard, and +Talander entered the hall with a countenance as pale as death. “May +God and his holy gospel protect us,” exclaimed the old man. “A swarm +of Croats is storming through the country, and may probably come this +very night.” + +“Well,” replied the baron, with affected composure, “Saxony has nothing +to fear from the troops of his Imperial Majesty.” + +“So you think, my lord, but I do not,” rejoined the magister, +trembling. “People whisper already about the alliance concluded +between Saxony and Sweden, and if the Croats are terrible even as +friends, may Heaven preserve us against their inroads as enemies. They +are said to commit the most awful havoc on the estates of the +protestant noblemen.” + +The baron fell into an arm-chair as if thunder struck, and Tugendreich +was wringing her white hands as Axel entered the hall. A helmet +covered his head, a sword was rattling at his side, and before the old +baron could think of his wrath against him, he said in a firm and manly +tone, “The Croats are approaching, and will not want a pretext for +committing their depredations here as they have done every where else; +your property and life, and the honour of your lovely daughter are in +jeopardy. Nothing but a bold resistance can save you. Isolani’s +followers spare nothing, not even those who submit readily.” + +“Are you out of your senses?” asked the baron. “With what force am I +to begin the struggle against an imperial army?” + +“Only he who abandons himself is abandoned,” said Axel. “This castle +has high, strong walls and deep moats. I have raised a whole village, +and have armed your ranger and servants. If they follow my advice they +will all take refuge here with their property. We must give up the +village, and hold out here until succour comes.” + +Surprised by Axel’s bold design and chivalrous conduct, old Starschedel +sat there as incapable of opposition as of coming to a resolution of +his own. “The means are desperate,” said Talander, “but I see no other +way of proceeding.” + +“But what of the imperial band?” sighed the old baron. + +“We do not resist the imperial troops,” argued the magister, cunningly. +“We only protect our property against marauders and robbers, who +plunder the country contrary to the will of his imperial majesty.” + +“Tell the people from the balcony that I act in accordance with your +wish,” said Axel, “and leave the rest to me.” + +Starschedel looked inquiringly at his oracle, who returned a nod of +approbation, and submitted patiently to be dragged to the balcony by +Axel, where he delivered general orders of obedience to Axel, though +often interrupted by shortness of breath. A loud _vivat_ resounded +from the robust Saxon youths, who were eager to fight. + +With proud satisfaction Tugendreich looked down on the singular groom +who instructed the armed band in the court-yard as if he had been used +to military duty all his life, assigned to every one his post in the +court-yard, ordered the placing of men, cattle, and property, and then +sallied forth with the mounted servants to reconnoitre the enemy. The +baron, in the meanwhile, buried with trembling hands a casket of jewels +in the cellar, while master Talander looked through his long telescope +at the stars which now began to appear, compared his observations with +the singular circles, lines, and signs upon a large table, and then +made his calculations until the drops of perspiration stood upon his +forehead, examining the results now with a joyful nod, and now with a +thoughtful shake of his white head. At midnight the reconnoitring corp +returned. The garrison was summoned with beating of drums, and Axel +addressed them as follows: “The Croats will presently enter the village +and will not spare any thing; the sky is already red with their +torches; they will burn here also, but we shall be secure behind these +walls while you show yourselves to be men. Bear in mind that you are +to fight for your good lord and his noble daughter, for the pure +doctrine of the gospel, for your venerable pastor, for the honour of +your wives, and for the lives of your children. Now long life to the +elector!” + +“Long life to the elector!” shouted the band after him, joyfully; but +the “_Hoch_” stuck in many a throat, as at this moment the music of the +approaching Croats chimed in with their “_Vivat_” as a flourish. + +“To your posts,” cried Axel in a thundering voice, and then once more +looking to the draw bridge, he ordered the gates to be secured and +ascended the battlements of the _donjon_. A wild tumult was now heard +in the village. The Croats searched boisterously for the inhabitants +and provisions but in vain, and therefore avenged their disappointment +upon the doors and windows of the cottages. At length a troop with +torches galloped up to the castle, startled at the drawn bridge and +sounded the trumpet as a summons for admittance. The trumpet within +the castle was sounded in answer, and Axel asked in military form what +was their wish. + +“Down with the bridge first,” blustered an infuriated captain of the +Croats in broken German, “and then you will see what we want.” + +“Show us the orders of his Imperial Majesty and our Elector, that this +castle is to receive a garrison,” replied Axel, modestly, “and the +bridge shall immediately be lowered.” + +At this the foreign barbarian foamed with rage, snatched his carbine +from his saddle and fired it at Axel. The bullet missed, and Axel in +return sent a bullet from his gun whizzing through the cap of the Croat. + +“This is to teach you uncivilized fellows the usage of war, that no +shot should be fired during a parley,” he cried. “My shot was only to +warn you of this; but if you do not draw off, the next shall be in +earnest.” Upon this the captain swearing turned his horse round and +galloped madly back into the village with his troops. + +As Axel was turning to descend, he saw Tugendreich standing before him +as pale and motionless as a statue. “For heaven’s sake, Fräulein,” he +cried, “what are you doing up here? this is not a place for a gentle +lady.” + +“I heard firing,” said the lovely girl, sighing deeply; “I thought you +were in danger, and could not longer remain below.” + +“Faithful heart!” exclaimed he, with emotion and affection. “By all +that I hold sacred I will some day requite you.” And quickly taking +her in his strong arms he carried her down the steps, and consigned her +to her attendant, whom he strictly enjoined not to allow the Fräulein +to ascend the walls again. He then returned quickly to his post, as he +already heard resounding through the night the march of the approaching +enemy threatening the castle. + +Suddenly the thatched cottages of the villages were blazing up in a +terrible manner. Amid the light of the flames the Croats assaulted the +castle in close bodies and with wild fury. But the garrison made a +brave resistance, and their rifles created great havoc among the +enemies’ ranks. Axel was everywhere, and though the Croats attempted +in different places to scale the walls by the aid of ladders, he +immediately was at the spot, to strike down the foremost, and then with +powerful hand to precipitate ladder and all into the moat. For an hour +the most furious combat had been raging when the enemies’ trumpets +sounded the retreat, and the infuriated captain who led the rear cried +out with a savage laugh, “At sunrise we shall return with heavy cannon, +and show you who we are.” + +The morning dawned after a sleepless night, and found the two old +gentlemen sitting sorrowfully in Talander’s closet, which was +bomb-proof. The lamp was nearly out, and they started up terrified on +hearing the trumpet sound outside the castle walls. After a short time +Axel, who had been wounded in the cheek, entered, announcing Baron +Grotta, lieutenant-colonel in the imperial army, saying, “My lords, the +colonel awaits you in the hall: for heaven’s sake show no fear, and let +the magister settle the terms of a capitulation.” + +He consented and left the room. On arriving in the hall a fine-looking +officer met him, whose countenance might be called beautiful, had there +not been an expression of defiance and haughtiness about the eyes and +mouth which detracted from the impression first produced. After the +usual civilities had been exchanged, the stranger informed him that a +division of the imperial army was to pass through the village on that +day, and that their general had learned with astonishment the audacity +with which the castle had opposed their light troops; that he was +inclined, however, to pardon this, knowing the rapacity and outrages of +the Croats, who made no distinction between friend and foe; but that +now he expected the castle to be surrendered to him immediately. + +“On what conditions,” asked the astonished baron. + +“Methinks you ought to be glad if an imperial general,” said he in a +sarcastic tone, “after what has happened, once more kindly invites you +to trust blindly to his generosity. At all events it is more advisable +for you to open your gates than to let our cannons burst them open.” + +At this moment the beautiful Tugendreich entered the hall, followed by +a servant with flasks and goblets. Love, with its joys and sorrows had +diffused a supernatural charm over her noble countenance, which did not +fail to produce so magical an effect upon the warrior, that he at once +in a gentler tone added to his menaces the question, “Is this your +daughter?” The baron then introduced her, and the stranger took the +brimming goblet she presented to him, and in a polite manner asked on +what conditions the castle would capitulate. The baron pleading +indisposition in consequence of the nightly assault promised to send +his chaplain to negociate, and left the hall delighted to be released +from this purgatory. The experienced hero now addressed himself +courteously to the Fräulein, and after condoling with her on account of +the terrors of the past night, and expressing his satisfaction at being +able to contribute something to alleviate their present situation, was +beginning to get as sentimental as it became a soldier in the thirty +years’ war, when old Talander entered bowing, followed by Axel, who, +unarmed, and in a respectful manner, brought in writing materials. + +“In the name of my noble master I am to have the honour of treating +with you, gallant sir,” said he in a submissive tone; “we have only a +few just conditions to propose, which I beg your gracious permission to +state.” + +“Granted,” said the colonel, casting an expressive look at the +Fräulein, which told her it was only on her account that he granted any +conditions whatever. The magister began to read the following +propositions: “Unconditional amnesty for the past night; liberty for +religion and her servants until the fate of this country is decided; +exemption from all contributions under whatever name or pretext they +may be demanded.” + +“Great demands,” interrupted the colonel. + +“In return, Baron Von Starschedel grants to the troops of his imperial +majesty the right of garrison in his castle,” continued Talander. + +“But only to the regiment of Tiefenbach,” interrupted Axel, hastily. +“It is best disciplined, and the promise which your general has given +us in writing is a security of the capitulation being kept.” + +With angry astonishment the stranger looked at the insolent groom. +Tugendreich and Talander showed consternation. The magister broke the +silence by saying, “The hasty interruption of this young man reminds me +of two important points which my old head had forgotten; I therefore +hasten to supply them.” + +While the magister was writing, Tugendreich observed, in a gentle tone, +as she suddenly became conscious of the influence of her sex, “So +gallant a man as the colonel will certainly do his utmost to concede +such reasonable conditions.” + +“What would I not do, for a kind look from those eyes?” said he +tenderly, and he took from Talander’s hands the points he had written +down, made a military bow to the Fräulein, cast a look of contempt on +Axel as he departed, and was soon seen to gallop through the gate. + +A quarter of an hour had scarcely elapsed, when the chains of the +drawbridge and the creaking of the gate were heard again, and the +colonel gallopped into the court-yard, waving the signed capitulation +on high as a banner of peace. With great respect and delight, the +baron went to meet him at the castle entrance, and the welcome officer +dismounted with graceful ease from his charger, giving the bridle with +a haughty contempt into Axel’s hands, evidently to make him conscious +of the respect which was due to him, and which he had before forgotten. + +One of his fellow grooms, seeing the anger which flashed from the eyes +of Axel at this pointed humiliation, took the horse from him and led +him about. The colonel did not fail observing this, and to complete +the mortification of the insolent servant, he set his foot on the steps +of the entrance, and called to Axel, “Groom, my right spur galls me, +loosen it.” + +“I will let your groom know that you want him,” said Axel haughtily, +“if you will have the condescension to tell me where I can find him.” + +The colonel’s face reddened with indignation, and addressing the baron, +biting and grinding his teeth, he requested him to remind his groom of +his duty, as his rank demanded he should insist upon it. The baron +satisfied his demands in a ludicrous manner, not knowing in his heart, +of whom he was most afraid. Axel shook his head in silence. “Pray, +good Axel,” whispered the baron entreatingly, “when you have often +fastened my spurs, will you refuse it to a person of such distinction. + +“I honour and love you as a father,” said Axel, “and consider it no +disgrace to serve you; I would willingly perform the most menial +services for you, but cannot suffer indignity from the haughtiness of a +stranger.” + +“I am curious to see,” said the stranger scornfully, “whether the +master or the servant will get the best of this singular dispute.” +And, irritated by this observation, and working himself up into a +passion in order to gain his point, the baron cried, “Either you loosen +the spurs, or you quit my service immediately.” + +“I go, gracious master,” said Axel most respectfully. “I know you are +safe for some time to come, and I carry with me the delightful +satisfaction of having so far contributed to your safety. Remember +sometimes, kindly, your faithful servant;” and, shaking heartily the +hand which the baron offered him, he went to the stable to pack up his +knapsack. + +Absorbed in secret dreams, Tugendreich stood in a grotto in the garden, +and did not even hear the drums of a company of Tiefenbach’s regiment +which was entering the castle, when suddenly Axel stood before her with +the knapsack on his back. “Your father has dismissed me from his +service,” he said, with emotion, “but I shall never quit yours, sweet +Fräulein. You shall soon hear of me.” With tears in his eyes, he +offered a forget-me-not, which she could not refuse accepting from the +hand that still showed the scar from the descent into the shaft. +“But,” continued he, recollecting himself, “this keepsake will soon be +destroyed, therefore take another of a solid material from my own +native country.” And, taking out a Swedish copper dollar, he broke it +with gigantic strength, offered one-half to the Fräulein, and said, “He +who shall bring you the other half will come from me.” Before +Tugendreich was aware how she had got the burning kiss which glowed +upon her lips he had vanished, and Talander stood before her like a +personified lecture. He was on the point of delivering it, when the +baron, who was somewhat wearied by the first impetuous demands of his +new guest, approached in a gloomy mood, and asked, astonished and +peevishly, “What was the meaning of the flower which the Fräulein was +still affectionately contemplating?” + +“I was just disputing with the good magister about it,” replied she, +with genuine female composure, whilst she wiped away her last tears. +“Being my instructor in botany, he thinks he can make me believe +anything. Only think, he maintains that this is the _Myosotis +palustris_, or mouse-ear, and it is evidently the _Veronica +chamaedrys_, or germander, which moreover rhymes with Talander. Am I +not right, dear father?” So saying, she bounded away out of the +garden, to cast, if possible, one more look from the tower after her +departing favourite, whilst Talander raised his hands in utter +astonishment at the consummate ingenuity which his timid pupil so +readily displayed. + + * * * * * + +The calamities of war which the large armies marching to and fro +brought upon the country did not press with particular weight upon the +inhabitants of the castle. For this they were indebted to the colonel +who was quartered within it with his company. But it soon became +evident that his services were not altogether disinterested, for he +daily made nearer and more evident advances towards the beautiful +daughter of the house, and ventured many a time to storm her heart with +tender, chivalrous courtesy. His noble demeanour and manly beauty, in +addition to his high rank as a soldier, his birth and his fortune, +powerfully supported his suit. But an invincible antagonist was in +Tugendreich’s heart; the image of poor Axel and the half-copper dollar +were to her a more precious treasure than the rich necklace which Baron +Grotta ordered from Dresden, and which she was forced to accept by the +command of her father. A dim foreboding seemed to tell the proud +colonel what rival he had to contend with, and the recollection of the +handsome insolent groom and the scene with the spur began to assume the +shape of a suspicion which produced ill humour. This was expressed in +many contemptuous observations concerning low-born persons, and his +scorn at their desire to force their way into the upper classes daily +wearied the patience of old Talander, who entertained very high notions +of his own worth as a man. When it happened upon one occasion that the +colonel in his presence boasted rather too complacently to the Fräulein +of his hereditary privileges, the old man commenced reading a passage +from a poem which an old collegian had sent him from Halle, running +thus:[3] + + “Ye who prefer your dross to silver pure and fine, + And think your glass as good as diamonds from the mine; + I mean you, who in lists of ancestors take pride, + And seem so many noughts set other noughts beside; + Who worship that vain idol--old nobilitié, + Ye truly are besotted--I pray ye, pardon me.” + + +The colonel looked with eyes of wonder, which, in spite of the +_captatio benevolentiæ_ in the concluding line, expressed no +forgiveness, at the daring magister who, however, was not silent, but +continued reading. + + “The flags your sires have left, of what avail are they? + And what avails the plume that decks your arms so gay? + The helm and shield bequeath’d by men who liv’d of yore, + The burnish’d arms ye keep a thousand years in store, + Are vanities; and he that’s wise will say, indeed, + When real worth appears they must perforce recede.” + + +At this the colonel left the room in a blustering manner as if he +anticipated the sixteen lines of the poem which were yet to come, and +with which Talander intended to treat him. The door closed after him +with a great noise, and a pressure of the Fräulein’s hand thanked the +grey knight who had so victoriously beaten that powerful enemy of her +secret wishes out of the field. + +But this satisfaction was not of long duration. The colonel, +despairing of obtaining the hand of his chosen one, in the modern way, +that is to say, by his own powers of persuasion, chose the ancient +plan, and called to his aid paternal authority. Poor Starschedel had +to maintain a difficult position between the importunity of the noble +suitor, the tears of his daughter, and the _veto_ of Talander who, with +the eloquence of a confessor, imposed the denial as a matter of +conscience upon his protestant master. But here, as every where else, +power and rank at last conquered. The colonel’s _corps_ received +orders to join Tilly’s, who expected to fight a pitched battle, and he, +therefore, vehemently urged a quick decision. The baron, who could not +resist, announced to his pale daughter the following morning as the day +on which she was to be betrothed, adding with the utmost energy that +this was his unalterable will. He then left her quickly, fearing his +resolution might be changed by her imploring looks. The poor girl +retired into the garden unconscious of what she was doing, and standing +before the rose-tree which had witnessed the first kiss of Axel, looked +sorrowfully to the grotto of his last farewell. Suddenly a capuchin +friar, with a white beard, stood before her silently presenting half a +copper dollar. “For heaven’s sake tell me whether you come from Axel?” +cried the lovely maiden trembling, while her pale cheeks were suffused +with blushes. + +“I come from him,” replied a strong unknown voice. “He now serves as +dragoon in the Swedish army, which is about to engage in a pitched +battle. Before this takes place he wishes once more to see you, and +bid you farewell. But at present he does not venture here, and +therefore entreats you to meet him this night on the Mordmühle in the +_scharfen Thale_. You may bring the old magister with you, and safe +conduct is provided for you thither and back. Axel will wait there for +you until one o’clock, at which time his duty will oblige him to leave. +Will you come?” + +“I will come,” whispered the Fräulein, after a short struggle. + +The capuchin now hastened with long unfriar-like strides towards the +high garden wall, climbed it nimbly like a cat and disappeared. At +this moment Talander entered the garden to speak a few words of +consolation to his pupil concerning the terrible morrow. But his words +of unction died on his eloquent tongue, when the Fräulein made him the +singular proposal to accompany her that night on a promenade to the +Mordmühle. He refused, she entreated, he remonstrated, she coaxed him, +he was inexorable, she wept, and he, incapable of resisting tears from +such eyes said, at length ‘_concedo_.’ + +Whoever knew the Mordmühle could not but think the demand of Axel +hazardous. It lay in a narrow valley formed by steep rocks, and lofty +black pines, through which rushed the dark fierce torrent, and its last +proprietor, whose soul was burthened with the commission of many +murders, had fallen by the hand of his own son. The shepherds only +dared during the day to let their herds graze in the rich pasture of +the meadow surrounding the mill. As soon as evening twilight +approached every living thing fled the awful precincts, within which, +according to popular tradition, only the spirits of the murdered held +their fearful haunts. Tugendreich was not quite free from the +superstition of the times, but strong love, which conquers every +obstacle, overcame her fear, and when the last glow of evening in the +west reddened the sky, she had contrived to get rid of her father and +the importunate suitor, and commenced her heroic journey with the +grumbling magister. As they came to the last heap of the ruins of the +desolated village he drew her attention to four tall figures in dark +clothes, who started up suddenly with a clattering noise, as if at the +word of command, from behind the wall of a cottage that was burnt down, +and accompanied them step by step, surrounding them on all sides. +Tugendreich recollecting the promised escort walked on fearlessly. But +as they entered the valley, the moon rising from behind the lofty firs, +and the church clock in a neighbouring village striking twelve, she +felt some alarm, and now fancied she heard but too distinctly the +wheels of the long deserted mill in full motion, which at this time, +and under these circumstances, could not be caused by any one but evil +spirits. Her companion silently shared her fears and thoughts, being +moreover already so terrified by the figures who accompanied them in +cloaks, that the drops stood on his face. At length he broke the awful +silence, saying: + +“Child, I have complied with your wish, I have put my life in jeopardy +and come this accursed walk. Now tell me, daughter, what do you wish +to do in the most ill-famed corner of this country?” + +“To bid farewell to Axel,” said the Fräulein, “he has appointed to meet +me here.” + +“To Axel. I wish I had known that,” muttered the magister, adding in +an admonishing tone, “Have you perhaps been deceived by a hellish +phantom? There are instances in which the evil one, with divine +permission, avails himself of an excessive forbidden love in order +subtilely to destroy a soul. The place and time of your appointment +are not in accordance with my notions of propriety. Supposing your +singular admirer were dead, and that his departed spirit had sent you +this summons, and was waiting for you in the Mordmühle with his +outstretched bony arms, to draw you into the dark subterranean bridal +chamber?” + +At this instant the speaker was interrupted by a loud and +long-continued blast of a bugle, which was answered from the mill, the +wheels of which were really revolving with a terrible noise, and +emitted a thousand silvery sparks which were reflected by the +moonlight: a tall man came out from the mill. The foremost of the four +attendants approached him with respect, and a moment after Tugendreich +was in the arms of Axel, reclining her burning cheeks against his +beating heart. + +“Come into the mill, beloved girl,” he whispered imploringly, “we are +not quite safe here from discovery. You, reverend sir, will bear us +company. I thank you for having conducted the Fräulein hither.” + +The magister followed the two lovers, shaking his head in doubts at the +suspicious dwelling. + +“Let every thing proceed as I have already ordered,” said Axel, in a +tone of command, to the tall figures who had posted themselves outside +the door like statues, “and do not stop the wheels of the mill until +the Fräulein is again safe.” + +He now conducted his beloved into the only habitable room of the mill, +which being well lighted with lanterns, looked tolerably cheerful, +while a camp table, set out with flasks and cake, invited the weary and +hungry magister, who sat down a camp-stool near to it. Axel +affectionately took the Fräulein to the window; and whilst they were +conversing confidentially, the magister, who was enjoying the repast, +made his reflections on the decent preparations which Axel had made for +the rendezvous, and which were not in unison with the plain jacket of a +Swedish dragoon that he wore. But his ideas became more and more +confused; soon he had hardly a clear conception of what passed through +his mind; and when, at length, the effect of the long walk, his age, +the night, and the generous wine closed his eyelids, the creatures of +his imagination assumed the shape of substantial and significant +dreams, from which the old seer had already received many prophetic +warnings. The village clock now struck one, and Axel gently disengaged +himself from Tugendreich, in whose tears the rays of the setting moon +were shining. + +“I must go, dearest,” said he. “Only this one blissful hour could I +withdraw myself from my duty. I would ask you to accompany me; but my +journey will not be without danger, to which I will not expose you, and +your father’s house will still be your fittest residence. To escape +the hated betrothal to-morrow, you must feign illness. Every thing may +be gained by time, in the unhappy period in which we live. If God +preserves my life, you shall soon hear good tidings of me; and if I +die, let the thought that I fell in his holy cause be your +consolation.” Dissolved in tears, she clung to his neck, and thus they +quitted the mill, on the outside of which a powerful roan-colour horse +was pawing the ground. “Farewell, and pray for me,” cried Axel, with a +trembling voice, and he cut off with his sword one of her golden locks +from her head as a remembrance, clasped her once more in his arms, +leaped on to his charger, and galloped out of the valley. + +Tugendreich returned to the room in which Talander still sat dreaming, +his venerable wrinkled countenance being gloomily illumined by the +lights which burned low in their sockets. His sleep became more and +more troubled, his breathing heavy, and his half-open eyes stared as if +glancing into a gloomy futurity. He now commenced talking in his +dreams. “Courage, my countrymen,” he muttered, “though the number of +the enemy threaten to crush you; you fight for God’s word, and liberty +of conscience. Behold on your banners the white messenger of heaven, +spreading his shining wings; behold he hovers over your ranks; he +announces victory. Now the cannon is thundering. Ah! blood, much +blood! What! my Saxons, fleeing? Yet no, their whole force is still +standing firm, a proud bulwark, bidding defiance to the waving masses +of the enemy. Brave Swedes, fight fiercely, and the aged monster[4] +slowly yields, grinding his teeth. Heavily the arm of requital lies on +him; the bleeding infant menaces him from amid the ruins of Magdeburg. +He yields, he flies, the day is won--triumph, triumph, the good cause +prevails.” At these words the dreamer started up from his slumber, and +recovered slowly, while the pale Fräulein contemplated him, trembling. + +“This was a heavy sleep, child,” said he, as he fetched a deep breath. +“It is fortunate that I awoke; it was too much for this old body of +mine. I may say that I know much, but the dark realm of spirits makes +one pay dear for the knowledge acquired there.” + +“What have you learnt by this frightful dream,” asked Tugendreich, with +anxious curiosity. + +“Nothing of that now, Fräulein,” said the old man, gravely. “But tell +me what has become of Herr Axel,” he asked, looking cautiously around. +“I saw him also in my dream, but not in the jacket of a dragoon.” + +“Ah!” said she, sobbing, “he has just gone. He could no longer delay, +for a great battle is impending.” + +“Indeed it is, but be of good cheer, the bold Swede will survive it. +You will yet--” here the magister broke off, vexed with himself, as +though he had already said too much, and prepared for departure. + +“But to-morrow, dear magister?” sighed she. + +“The _morrow_ has already become _to-day_,” said Talander, in a +comforting tone, “and your hostile constellation has lost its +influence. Go boldly back to the castle with me. My awful vision has +shown me many things, and you will find great changes. From poor Baron +Grotta you have nothing more to fear in this life. But come, that the +daylight may not surprise us. My dream was a long one.” He now led +her out of the mill where the four attendants were in readiness. Under +their escort they arrived in safety at the castle, at the gates of +which, to their astonishment, they missed the sentinel of Tienfenbach’s +corps, and were surprised to see the baronial hall brightly lighted up. + +“God be praised that you have come, you have been absent a long time,” +said her maid, who was waiting for her. “Two hours ago a hasty order +arrived for the soldiers to start immediately, and the colonel will +also depart at break of day. Your betrothal was to take place this +very night, but as neither you nor the magister were to be found, the +baron began to suspect and your father showed great displeasure. +Suddenly some horsemen galloped into the courtyard. They were Saxons, +and proved to be Colonel Von Starschedel and his son, the major, with +six carbineers. Now the tables were turned. The baron had to +congratulate himself that these gentlemen, respecting the right of +hospitality, did not take him prisoner, for his men were gone and your +father was too much afraid of these relations to say any more on the +subject of your betrothal. Now they are all sitting together and +hardly know what to say to each other. Only come and see. The +handsome major has already asked for his lovely cousin twice.” The +Fräulein now went with a light heart into the hall, where she found +them sitting at their wine, the colonel and the Saxons quickly rose on +her entrance, and the major hastened towards her, not a little +astonished to see that the cheerfulness that was formerly expressed in +her countenance had fled, and that she endeavoured to avoid his +embrace. But this did not deter him from offering his usual courtesies +to his lovely cousin, whilst Colonel Starschedel, in a deep voice, told +her attentive father of the perfect union between the elector and the +king of Sweden, and the generous refusal of any security which the +Saxons had offered. + +The imperial colonel could no longer listen in quiet to their +conversation. He rose and took his leave of the company with a few +cold expressions of politeness. No one attempted to detain him, and +the last angry look with which he turned from the Fräulein fell upon +Talander, who was just entering, and who gave a singular look of +compassion at the departing colonel. He then posted himself behind the +chair of the Fräulein, who felt uneasy at the attentions of her cousin, +whom she nevertheless loved as a brother. With deep melancholy the +seer’s eyes rested now upon the venerable countenance of the colonel, +and now upon the youthful manly figure of his son. At this moment +there resounded in the court-yard the tramp of a horse, and the +magister said: “There goes the imperial colonel. We shall never see +him again, like many another who is in the prime of life.” + +“What are you thinking of?” asked the baron, suddenly interrupting him, +as the expression of his old inmate’s countenance told him that his +words were prophetic. A general and mysterious awe seized the company, +their conversation, which before had been so animated, stopped, and the +chirping of a lark which hailed the morning dawn, gave them a welcome +pretext for retiring, as the Saxons had to join the army of their +elector on that day. The _Carbineers_ were already mounted in the +court-yard, the colonel took a parting cup with the baron, and the +grief at parting inspired the major in the very doorway to try to +extort from Tugendreich a confession of her inclination and a promise +of her hand. But Talander stepped between them and said with paternal +warning, “Young hero, you are riding forth towards on a great day. +This is not an hour to form a worldly alliance. As a Christian you +ought first to think of your end. You are perhaps nearer to it than +you think. Is the Fräulein, if you fall, to weep as a widow for you? +This would be mere selfishness and not love. Do not stretch out your +hand so hastily after the myrtle crown; its green will turn to blood +and silver; an angel will perhaps soon entwine from it a martyr’s crown +for you.” Much struck, the major looked upon the seer, whose face +beamed with a supernatural light, then offered him silently his hand, +pressed a brotherly kiss on Tugendreich’s forehead, and soon the old +castle stood mourning in silence, all the guests having quitted it. + + * * * * * + +The baron sat silently and gloomily before the blazing fire, and +Tugendreich was reading to him from Luther’s Bible. + +He had experienced much to depress his spirits. The neighbourhood was +indeed now free from troops, but all his stores were either consumed by +the war or destroyed, his tenants expected support from him, and in +Madgeburg, where his capital was invested, he had lost fifty thousand +thalers. Frightful reports were moreover circulated about a battle in +which the Saxons had been defeated. In this state of anguish he had +had recourse to the word of God, and his daughter was reading to him in +a mild and harmonious voice this passage from Sirach: + +“Who is ever daunted that abideth in the fear of God, or who that hath +called him, is despised of him.” + +The old baron shaking his head looked up to heaven, and Tugendreich +read on: + +“For the Lord is gracious and merciful, forgiving sins and helping in +the time of need.” + +“Indeed the Lord helpeth in trouble,” cried Talander, who rushed into +the room with youthful impetuosity, holding an open letter in his hand. +“The Swedes and Saxons have fought with the formidable Tilly near +Leipsic, and have defeated him, and the word of God is again free in +our dear Saxony. Here is the confirmation of it which an old friend +has sent me from Halle.” He read with a joyful trembling voice, “On +the 7th September _anni currentis_, there stood on the great plain of +Leipsic more than 75,000 men opposed to each other as enemies, and it +was to be looked upon as a happy omen, that shortly before the +engagement a snow white dove perched upon a Saxon standard and +afterward hovered over the whole line of battle of the protestants. At +noon the cannonading commenced, the Swedes attacked and were at first +victorious, but now Tilly threw himself with all his forces upon the +Saxons, drove them back, and directed the guns taken from them against +the Swedes. Some Saxon regiments, however, held out bravely until the +Swedes came to their assistance. Then old Tilly was compelled at +length to retreat, and had nearly been struck dead in his flight with +the butt end of a pistol by a captain of the Rhinegrave regiment. He +arrived here in a sad plight, and upon the side of the imperial army +7600 have been left dead on the field of battle. The body of the +allied army consisted in twenty-six pieces of artillery, one hundred +colours and standards, and many articles of value. This glorious +victory was followed by the capture of Leipsic, and was purchased +dearly by both armies. On the side of the imperialists the Duke of +Holstein died of his wounds as a prisoner, and there were killed +besides the Generals Schönburg and Erwitte, the Colonels Plankhart and +Baumgartner and Lieutenant Colonel Grotta.” + +The Baron Starschedel clasped his hands with a pious ejaculation, and +Tugendreich honoured the memory of the fallen enemy and friend with a +tear. “The Saxons,” continued Talander, to read with great emotion, +“lost General Bindhof, Colonel Löser and two Starschedels.” “Merciful +God, our cousins!” sobbed the Fräulein, and the old baron rose +trembling from his chair, took a pen, beckoned to his daughter to +follow him with the ink, and strode to the baronial hall, where he +marked the appropriate crosses on the escutcheons of the beloved +relatives in the pedigree, whilst some tears involuntarily rolled from +his eyes to the ground. Tugendreich broke off some twigs from a +laurel-tree standing near the window to adorn the pictures of the +fallen heroes with deserved wreaths, and the magister, who had followed +them with the letter in his hand, continued to read with mingled +feelings of joy and sorrow, “Colonel Starschedel fell at the head of +his _carbineers_ while resisting an assault of Tilly. On this occasion +the Saxon standard, on which the white dove had perched before the +engagement, fell into the enemy’s hands. To leave this symbol of +victory in their hands appeared fatal to Major Starschedel, and a young +officer of an ancient family in the Swedish staff; they therefore took +an oath to rescue it from the enemy’s hands. Whilst the Saxon died the +death of a hero, the Swede succeeded. The name of the latter was Count +Güldenlöwe, and he was on the field of battle promoted by the king to +the rank of colonel for his extraordinary bravery, and for having led +the regiment of Courville, after its colonel was made prisoner, three +times against the enemy; also receiving permission to add the above +standard with the white dove to his coat of arms.” “What was that?” +cried the baron, running to the window to listen. + +“That is military music, and if I am not mistaken Swedish,” said +Talander. + +“The Swedes are entering the village,” shouted the servants, and +Tugendreich flew to the turret with a palpitating heart to view the +passing heroes. The march came nearer and nearer, and behind the +trumpeters of a regiment of dragoons rode its colonel, a young noble +hero, in splendid armour, while his standard-bearer, whose uniform was +adorned by the golden lion on blue ground, carried before him the +rescued Saxon standard, which now received the laurel crown as it +dropped down from Tugendreich’s hands. + +“That must be Colonel Güldenlöwe,” cried Talander, who came panting +behind the baron to the turret. + +“Heavens! it is Axel,” cried the Fräulein, as the colonel looked up, +and she fell senseless into her tutor’s arms. When she recovered she +found herself in Axel’s arms, and on looking up her eye met his +penetrating glance. + +“Well have you stood this trial, lovely girl,” cried Axel in raptures. +“I had vowed to wed only that girl who could love in me the man and not +the count, whose love should be more powerful than any other +consideration of her tender sex. You have stood your trial, and mine +now begins, to show through my life that I am worthy of such a heart.” + +The beautiful Fräulein sank blushing on her lover’s breast. With tears +of joy in his eyes the old baron embraced his faithful Talander, and +the trumpeters below sounded a slow and solemn “Now God be praised.” + +C. A. F. + + +[1] _Du_ in German would here imply more familiarity from a long +acquaintance; _Ihr_ would be more distant and cold. + +[2] The name Tugendreich means “rich in virtue.” + +[3] From a long poem, printed at Leipzig in the seventeenth century, +and called “The learned nobility.” (Der gelehrte Adel.) + +[4] Referring to General Tilly. + + + + +THE SANDMAN. + +BY E. T. W. HOFFMANN. + +NATHANIEL TO LOTHAIRE. + +Certainly you must all be uneasy that I have not written for so +long--so very long. My mother, I am sure, is angry, and Clara will +believe that I am passing my time in dissipation, entirely forgetful of +the fair angel-image that is so deeply imprinted in my heart and mind. +Such, however, is not the case. Daily and hourly I think of you all, +and in my sweet dreams the kindly form of my lovely Clara passes before +me, and smiles upon me with her bright eyes as she was wont when I +appeared among you. Alas, how could I write to you in the distracted +mood which has hitherto disturbed my every thought! Something horrible +has crossed my path of life. Dark forebodings of a cruel, threatening, +fate spread themselves over me like dark clouds, which no friendly +sunbeam can penetrate. Now will I tell you what has befallen me. I +must do so, that I plainly see--but if I only think of it, it will +laugh out of me like mad. Ah, my dear Lothaire, how shall I begin it? +How shall I make you in any way sensible that that which occurred to me +a few days ago could really have such a fatal effect on my life? If +you were here you could see for yourself, but now you will certainly +take me for a crazy ghost-seer. In a word, the horrible thing which +happened to me, and the painful impression of which I in vain endeavour +to escape, is nothing more than this; that some days ago, namely on the +30th of October, at twelve o’clock at noon, a barometer-dealer came +into my room and offered me his wares. I bought nothing, and +threatened to throw him down stairs, upon which he took himself off of +his own accord. + +You suspect that only relations of the most peculiar kind, and exerting +the greatest influence over my life can give any import to this +occurrence, nay, that the person of that unlucky dealer must have a +hostile effect upon me. So it is, indeed. I collect myself with all +my might, that patiently and quietly I may tell you so much of my early +youth as will bring all plainly and clearly in bright images before +your active mind. As I am about to begin I fancy that I hear you +laughing and Clara saying: “Childish stories indeed!” Laugh at me I +beseech you, laugh with all your heart. But, heavens, my hair stands +on end, and it seems as if I am asking you to laugh at me, in mad +despair, as Franz Moor asked Daniel.[1] But to my story. + +Excepting at dinner time I and my brothers and sisters saw my father +very little during the day. He was, perhaps, busily engaged at his +ordinary occupation. After supper, which, according to the old custom +was served up at seven o’clock, we all went with my mother into my +father’s work-room, and seated ourselves at the round table. My father +smoked tobacco and drank a large glass of beer. Often he told us a +number of wonderful stories, and grew so warm over them that his pipe +continually went out. I had to light it again, with burning paper, +which I thought great sport. Often, too, he would give us +picture-books, and sit in his arm-chair silent and thoughtful, puffing +out such thick clouds of smoke that we all seemed to be swimming in the +clouds. On such evenings as these my mother was very melancholy, and +immediately the clock struck nine, she would say: “Now children, to +bed--to bed! The Sandman is coming, I can see.” And certainly on all +these occasions I heard something with a heavy, slow step go bouncing +up the stairs. That I thought must be the Sandman. Once that dull +noise and footstep were particularly fearful, and I asked my mother, +while she took us away: “Eh, mamma, who is this naughty Sandman, who +always drives us away from papa? What does he look like?” “There is +no Sandman, dear child,” replied my mother. “When I say the Sandman +comes, I only mean that you are sleepy and cannot keep your eyes +open,--just as if sand had been sprinkled into them.” This answer of +my mother’s did not satisfy me--nay, in my childish mind the thought +soon matured itself that she only denied the existence of the Sandman +to hinder us from being terrified at him. Certainly I always heard him +coming up the stairs. Full of curiosity to hear more of this Sandman, +and his particular connection with children, I at last asked the old +woman who tended my youngest sister what sort of man he was. “Eh, +Natty,” said she, “do you not know that yet? He is a wicked man, who +comes to children when they will not go to bed, and throws a handful of +sand into their eyes, so that they start out bleeding from their heads. +These eyes he puts in a bag and carries them to the half-moon to feed +his own children, who sit in the nest up yonder, and have crooked beaks +like owls with which they may pick up the eyes of the naughty human +children.” + +A most frightful image of the cruel Sandman was horribly depicted in my +mind, and when in the evening I heard the noise on the stairs, I +trembled with agony and alarm. My mother could get nothing out of me, +but the cry of “The Sandman, the Sandman!” which was stuttered forth +through my tears. I then ran into the bed-room, where the frightful +apparition of the Sandman terrified me during the whole night. I had +already grown old enough to perceive that the nurse’s tale about the +Sandman and the nest of children in the half-moon could not be quite +true, but, nevertheless, this Sandman remained a fearful spectre, and I +was seized with the utmost horror, when I heard him not only come up +the stairs, but violently force open my father’s room-door and enter. +Sometimes he staid away for a long period, but oftener his visits were +in close succession. This lasted for years, and I could not accustom +myself to the terrible goblin; the image of the dreadful Sandman did +not become more faint. His intercourse with my father began more and +more to occupy my fancy. An unconquerable fear prevented me from +asking my father about it, but if I--I myself could penetrate the +mystery, and behold the wondrous Sandman--that was the wish which grew +upon me with years. The Sandman had brought me into the path of the +marvellous and wonderful, which so readily finds a domicile in the mind +of a child. Nothing was to me more delightful than to read or hear +horrible stories of goblins, witches, pigmies, &c.; but above them all +stood the Sandman, whom, in the oddest and most frightful shapes, I was +always drawing with chalk or charcoal on the tables, cupboards, and +walls. When I was ten years old, my mother removed me from the +children’s room into a little chamber, situated in a corridor near my +father’s room. Still, as before, we were obliged speedily to take our +departure as soon as, on the stroke of nine, the unknown was heard in +the house. I could hear in my little chamber how he entered my +father’s room, and then it soon appeared to me that a thin vapor of a +singular odor diffused itself about the house. Stronger and stronger +with my curiosity grew my resolution to form in some manner the +Sandman’s acquaintance. Often I sneaked from my room to the corridor, +when my mother had passed, but never could I discover any thing, for +the Sandman had always gone in at the door when I reached the place +where I might have seen him. At last, urged by an irresistible +impulse, I resolved to hide myself in my father’s room and await the +appearance of the Sandman. + +By the silence of my father, and the melancholy of my mother, I +perceived one evening that the Sandman was coming. I, therefore, +feigned great weariness, left the room before nine o’clock, and hid +myself in a corner close to the door. The house-door creaked, and the +heavy, slow, groaning step went through the passage and towards the +stairs. My mother passed me with the rest of the children. +Softly--very softly, I opened the door of my father’s room. He sat as +usually, stiff and silent, with his back turned to the door. He did +not perceive me, and I swiftly darted into the room and behind the +curtain, drawn before an open press, which stood close to the door, and +in which my father’s clothes were hanging. The steps sounded nearer +and nearer--there was a strange coughing and scraping and murmuring +without. My heart trembled with anxiety and expectation. A sharp step +close--very close to the door,--a smart stroke on the latch, and the +door was open with a rattling noise. Screwing up my courage with all +my might, I cautiously peeped out. The Sandman was standing before my +father in the middle of the room, the light of the candles shone full +upon his face. The Sandman, the fearful Sandman, was the old advocate +Coppelius, who had often dined with us. + +But the most hideous form could not have inspired me with deeper horror +than this very Coppelius. Imagine a large broad-shouldered man, with a +head disproportionately big, a face the colour of yellow ochre, a pair +of gray bushy eyebrows, from beneath which a pair of green cat’s eyes +sparkled with the most penetrating lustre, and with a large nose curved +over his upper lip. His wry mouth was often twisted into a malicious +laugh, when a couple of dark red spots appeared upon his cheeks, and a +strange hissing sound was heard through his compressed teeth. +Coppelius always appeared in an ashen-gray coat, cut in old-fashioned +style, with waistcoat and breeches of the same colour, while his +stockings were black, and his shoes adorned with buckles set with +precious stones. The little peruke scarcely reached further than the +crown of his head, the curls stood high above his large red ears, and a +broad hair-bag projected stiffly from his neck, so that the silver +buckle which fastened his folded cravat might be plainly seen. The +whole figure was hideous and repulsive, but most disgusting to us +children were his coarse brown hairy fists; indeed, we did not like to +eat what he had touched with them. This he had remarked, and it was +his delight, under some pretext or other, to touch a piece of cake, or +some nice fruit, that our kind mother might privately have put in our +plate, in order that we, with tears in our eyes, might, from disgust +and abhorrence, no longer be able to enjoy the treat intended for us. +He acted in the same manner on holidays, when my father gave us a +little glass of sweet wine. Then would he swiftly draw his fist over +it, or perhaps he would even raise the glass to his blue lips, and +laugh most devilishly, when we could only express our indignation by +soft sobs. He always called us the little beasts, we dared not utter a +sound when he was present, and we heartily cursed the ugly, unkind man, +who deliberately marred our slightest pleasures. My mother seemed to +hate the repulsive Coppelius as much as we did, since as soon as he +showed himself her liveliness, her free and cheerful mind was changed +into a gloomy solemnity. My father conducted himself towards him, as +though he was a superior being, whose bad manners were to be tolerated, +and who was to be kept in good humour at any rate. He need only give +the slightest hint, and the favourite dishes were cooked, and the +choicest wines served. + +When I now saw this Coppelius, the frightful and terrific thought took +possession of my soul, that indeed no one but he could be the Sandman. +But the Sandman was no longer that bugbear of a nurse’s tale, who +provided the owl’s nest in the half-moon with children’s eyes,--no, he +was a hideous spectral monster, who, wherever he appeared, brought with +him grief, want, and destruction--temporal and eternal. + +I was rivetted to the spot as if enchanted. At the risk of being +discovered, and as I plainly foresaw, of being severely punished, I +remained with my head peeping through the curtain. My father received +Coppelius with solemnity. “Now to our work!” cried the latter with a +harsh, grating voice, as he flung off his coat. My father silently and +gloomily drew off his night-gown, and both attired themselves in long +black frocks. Whence they took these, I did not see. My father opened +the door of what I had always thought to be a cupboard, but I now saw +that it was no cupboard, but rather a black hollow, in which there was +a little hearth. Coppelius entered, and a blue flame began to crackle +up on the hearth. All sorts of strange utensils lay around. +Heavens!--As my old father now stooped down to the fire, he looked +quite another man. A frightful convulsive pain seemed to have +distorted his mild reverend features into a hideous repulsive +diabolical countenance. He looked like Coppelius: the latter was +brandishing red hot tongs, and with them taking shining masses busily +out of the thick smoke, which he afterwards hammered. It seemed to me, +as if I saw human faces around without any eyes--but with deep holes +instead. “Eyes here, eyes!” said Coppelius in a dull roaring voice. +Overcome by the wildest terror, I shrieked out, and fell from my hiding +place upon the floor. Coppelius seized me, and showing his teeth, +bleated out, “Ah--little wretch,--little wretch!”--then dragging me up, +he flung me on the hearth, where the fire began to singe my hair. “Now +we have eyes enough--a pretty pair of child’s eyes.” Thus whispered +Coppelius and taking out of the flame some red-hot grains with his +fists, he was about to sprinkle them in my eyes. My father upon this +raised his hands in supplication, and cried: “Master, master, leave my +Nathaniel his eyes!” Coppelius uttered a yelling laugh, and said: +“Well let the lad have his eyes and cry his share in the world, but we +will examine the mechanism of his hands and feet.” And then he seized +me so forcibly that my joints cracked, and screwed off my hands and +feet, and then put them on again, one here and the other there. “Every +thing is not right here!--As good as it was--the old one has understood +it!” So did Coppelius say, in a hissing, lisping tone, but all around +me became black and dark, a sudden cramp darted through my bones and +nerves--and I lost all feeling. A gentle warm breath passed over my +face; I woke as out of a sleep of death. My mother had been stooping +over me. “Is the Sandman yet there?” I stammered. “No, no, my dear +child, he has gone away long ago,--he will not hurt you!”--So said my +mother, and she kissed and embraced her recovered darling. + +Why should I weary you, my dear Lothaire! Why should I be so diffuse +with details, when I have so much more to tell. Suffice it to say, +that I had been discovered while watching, and ill-used by Coppelius. +Agony and terror had brought on delirium and fever, of which I lay sick +for several weeks. “Is the sandman still there?” That was my first +sensible word and the sign of my amendment--my recovery. I can now +only tell you, the most frightful moment in my juvenile years. Then +you will be convinced that it is no fault of my eyes, that all to me +seems colourless, but that a dark fatality has actually suspended over +my life a gloomy veil of clouds, which I shall perhaps only tear away +in death. + +Coppelius was no more to be seen; it was said he had left the town. + +About a year might have elapsed, when, according to the old custom, we +sat at the round table. My father was very cheerful, and told much +that was entertaining, about his travels in his youth; when, as the +clock struck nine, we heard the house-door creak on the hinges, and +slow steps, heavy as iron, groaned through the passage and up the +stairs. “That is Coppelius,” said my mother, turning pale. +“Yes!--that is Coppelius!” repeated my father, with a faint broken +voice. The tears started from my mother’s eyes. “But father--father!” +she cried, “must it be so?” “He comes to me for the last time, I +promise you,” was the answer. “Only go now--go with the +children--go--go to bed. Good night!” + +I felt as if I were pressed into cold, heavy stone,--my breath was +stopped. My mother caught me by the arm as I stood immoveable. “Come, +come, Nathaniel!” I allowed myself to be led, and entered my chamber! +“Be quiet--be quiet--go to bed--go to sleep!” cried my mother after me; +but tormented by restlessness, and an inward anguish perfectly +indescribable, I could not close my eyes. The hateful, abominable +Coppelius stood before me with fiery eyes, and laughed at me +maliciously. It was in vain that I endeavoured to get rid of his +image. About midnight there was a frightful noise, like the firing of +a gun. The whole house resounded. There was a rattling and a rustling +by my door, and the house-door was closed with a violent sound. “That +is Coppelius!” I cried, and I sprang out of bed in terror. There was +then a shriek as if of acute inconsolable grief. I darted into my +father’s room; the door was open, a suffocating smoke rolled towards +me, and the servant girl cried: “Ah, my master, my master!” On the +floor of the smoking hearth lay my father dead, with his face burned +and blackened, and hideously distorted,--my sisters were shrieking and +moaning around him,--and my mother had fainted. “Coppelius!--cursed +Satan, thou hast slain my father!” I cried, and lost my senses. When, +two days afterwards, my father was laid in his coffin, his features +were again as mild and gentle as they had been in his life. My soul +was comforted by the thought that his compact with the devilish +Coppelius could not have plunged him into eternal perdition. + +The explosion had awakened the neighbours, the occurrence had become +the common talk, and had reached the ears of the magistracy, who wished +to make Coppelius answerable. He had, however, vanished from the spot, +without leaving a trace. + +If I tell you, my dear friend, that the barometer-dealer was the +accursed Coppelius himself, you will not blame me for regarding a +phenomenon so unpropitious as boding some heavy calamity. He was +dressed differently, but the figure and features of Coppelius are too +deeply imprinted in my mind, for an error in this respect to be +possible. Besides, Coppelius has not even altered his name. As I hear +he gives himself out as a Piedmontese optician, and calls himself +Giuseppe Coppola. + +I am determined to cope with him, and to avenge my father’s death, be +the issue what it may. + +Tell my mother nothing of the hideous monster’s appearance. Remember +me to my dear sweet Clara, to whom I will write in a calmer +mood.--Farewell. + + +CLARA TO NATHANIEL. + +It is true that you have not written to me for a long time, but +nevertheless I believe that I am still in your mind and thoughts. For +assuredly you were thinking of me most intently, when designing to send +your last letter to my brother Lothaire, you directed it to me, instead +of him. I joyfully opened the letter, and did not perceive my error +till I came to the words: “Ah, my dear Lothaire.” Now, by rights I +should have read no farther, but should have handed over the letter to +my brother. Although you have often in your childish teasing mood, +charged me with having such a quiet, womanish, steady disposition, that +like the lady, even if the house were about to fall in, I should smooth +down a wrong fold in the window curtain before I ran away, I can hardly +tell you how your letter shocked me. I could scarcely breathe,--my +eyes became dizzy. Ah, my dear Nathaniel, how could such a horrible +event have crossed your life? To be parted from you, never to see you +again,--the thought darted through my breast like a burning dagger. I +read and read. Your description of the repulsive Coppelius is +terrific. For the first time I learned, how your good old father died +a shocking violent death. My brother Lothaire, to whom I gave up the +letter as his property, sought to calm me, but in vain. The fatal +barometer-maker, Giuseppe Coppola followed me at every step, and I am +almost ashamed to confess that he disturbed my healthy and generally +peaceful sleep with all sorts of horrible visions. Yet soon,--even the +next day, I was quite changed again. Do not be offended, dearest one, +if Lothaire tells you, that in spite of your strange misgiving, that +Coppelius will in some manner injure you, I am in the same cheerful +unembarrassed frame of mind as ever. + +I will honestly confess to you that, according to my opinion, all the +terrible things of which you speak, merely occurred in your own mind, +and that the actual external world had little to do with them. Old +Coppelius may have been repulsive enough, but his hatred of children +was what really caused the abhorrence of your children towards him. + +In your childish mind the frightful sandman in the nurse’s tale was +naturally associated with old Coppelius, who, even if you had not +believed in the sandman, would still have been a spectral monster, +especially dangerous to children. The awful nightly occupation with +your father, was no more than this, that both secretly made alchemical +experiments, and with these your mother was constantly dissatisfied, +since besides a great deal of money being uselessly wasted, your +father’s mind being filled with a fallacious desire after higher wisdom +was alienated from his family--as they say, is always the case with +such experimentalists. Your father no doubt, by some act of +carelessness, occasioned his own death, of which Coppelius was +completely guiltless. Would you believe it, that I yesterday asked our +neighbour, the clever apothecary, whether such a sudden and fatal +explosion was possible in such chemical experiments? “Certainly,” he +replied, and in his way told me at great length and very +circumstantially how such an event might take place, uttering a number +of strange-sounding names, which I am unable to recollect. Now, I know +you will be angry with your Clara; you will say that her cold +disposition is impenetrable to every ray of the mysterious, which often +embraces man with invisible arms, that she only sees the varigated +surface of the world, and has the delight of a silly child, at some +gold-glittering fruit, which contains within it a deadly poison. + +Ah! my dear Nathaniel! Do you not then believe that even in free, +cheerful, careless minds, here may dwell the suspicion of some dread +power, which endeavours to destroy us in our own selves? Forgive me, +if I, a silly girl, presume in any manner to indicate, what I really +think of such an internal struggle; I shall not find out the right +words after all, and you will laugh at me, not because my thoughts are +foolish, but because I set about so clumsily to express them. + +If there is a dark power, which with such enmity and treachery lays a +thread within us, by which it holds us fast, and draws us along a path +of peril and destruction, which we should not otherwise have trod; if, +I say, there is such a power, it must form itself within us, or from +ourselves; indeed, become identical with ourselves, for it is only in +this condition that we can believe in it, and grant it the room which +it requires, to accomplish its secret work. Now, if we have a mind, +which is sufficiently firm, sufficiently strengthened by cheerful life, +always to recognise this strange hostile operation as such, and calmly +to follow the path which belongs to our inclination and calling, then +will the dark power fail in its attempt to gain a power, that shall be +a reflection of ourselves. Lothaire adds that it is certain, that the +dark physical power, if of our own accord, we have yielded ourselves up +to it, often draws within us some strange form, which the external +world has thrown in our way, so that we ourselves kindle the spirit, +which, as we in our strange delusion believe, speaks to us in that +form. It is the phantom of our own selves, the close relationship with +which, and its deep operation on our mind casts us into hell, or +transports us into heaven. You see, dear Nathaniel, that I and my +brother Lothaire have freely given our opinion on the subject of dark +powers, which subject, now I find I have not been able to write down +the chief part without trouble, appears to me somewhat deep. +Lothaire’s last words I do not quite comprehend. I can only suspect +what he means, and yet I feel as if it were all very true. I beg of +you, get the ugly advocate, Coppelius, and the barometer-seller, +Giuseppe Coppola, quite out of your head. Be convinced that these +strange fears have no power over you, and that it is only a belief in +their hostile influence that can make them hostile in reality. If the +great excitement of your mind did not speak from every line of your +letter, if your situation did not give me the deepest pain, I could +joke about the Sandman-Advocate, and the barometer-seller, Coppelius. +Be cheerful, I have determined to appear before you as your +guardian-spirit, and if the ugly Coppelius takes it in his head to +annoy you in your dreams, to scare him away with loud peals of +laughter. I am not a bit afraid of him nor of his disgusting hands; he +shall neither spoil my sweetmeats as an advocate, nor my eyes as a +sandman. Ever yours, my dear Nathaniel. + + +NATHANIEL TO LOTHAIRE. + +I am very sorry that in consequence of the error occasioned by my +wandering state of mind, Clara broke open the letter intended for you, +and read it. She has written me a very profound philosophical epistle, +in which she proves, at great length, that Coppelius and Coppola only +exist in my own mind, and are phantoms of myself, which will be +dissipated directly I recognise them as such. Indeed, one could not +believe that the mind which often peers out of those bright, smiling, +childish eyes, like a sweet charming dream, could define with such +intelligence, in such a professor-like manner. She appeals to +you--you, it seems have been talking about me. I suppose you read her +logical lectures, that she may learn to divide and sift every thing +acutely. Pray leave it off. Besides it is quite certain that the +barometer-dealer, Guiseppe Coppola, is not the advocate Coppelius. I +attend the lectures of the professor of physics, who has lately +arrived. His name is the same as that of the famous natural +philosopher, Spalanzani, and he is of Italian origin. He has known +Coppola for years, and moreover it is clear from his accent that he is +really a Piedmontese. Coppelius was a German, but I think no honest +one. Calmed I am not, and though you and Clara may consider me a +gloomy visionary, I cannot get rid of the impression, which the +accursed face of Coppelius makes upon me. I am glad that Coppola has +left the town, as Spalanzani says. This professor is a strange +fellow--a little round man, with high cheek bones, sharp nose, pouting +lips, and little piercing eyes. Yet you will get a better notion of +him than by this description, if you look at the portrait of +Cagliostro, designed by Chodowiecki, in one of the Berlin annuals, +Spalanzani looks like that exactly. I lately went up stairs, and +perceived that the curtain, which was generally drawn completely over a +glass door, left a little opening on one side. I know not what +curiosity impelled me to look through, a tall and very slender lady +most symmetrically formed, and most splendidly attired, sat in the room +by a little table on which she had laid her arms, her hands being +folded together. She sat opposite to the door, so that I could +completely see her angelic countenance. She did not appear to see me, +and indeed there was something fixed about her eyes as if, I might +almost say, she had no power of sight. It seemed to me that she was +sleeping with her eyes open. I felt very uncomfortable, and therefore +I slunk away into the auditorium, which was close at hand. Afterwards +I learned that the form I had seen was that of Spalanzani’s daughter +Olympia, whom he kept confined in a very strange and improper manner, +so that no one could approach her. After all, there may be something +the matter with her; she is silly perhaps, or something of the kind. +But why should I write you all this? I could have conveyed it better +and more circumstantially by word of mouth. Know that I shall see you +in a fortnight. I must again behold my dear; sweet, angelic Clara. +The ill-humour will then be dispersed, which, I must confess, has +endeavoured to get the mastery over me, since that fatal, sensible +letter. Therefore I do not write to her to-day. A thousand greetings, +&c. + + * * * * * + +Nothing more strange and chimerical can be imagined than that which +occurred to my poor friend, the young student Nathaniel, and which I, +gracious reader, have undertaken to tell you. Have you, kind reader, +ever known a something that has completely filled your heart, thoughts, +and senses, so as to exclude every thing else? There was in you a +fermentation and a boiling, and your blood inflamed to the hottest glow +bounded through your veins, and gave a higher colour to your cheeks. +Your glance was so strange, as if you wished to perceive, in empty +space, forms which to no other eyes are visible, and your speech flowed +away into dark sighs. Then your friends asked you: “What is it, +revered one?” “What is the matter, dear one.” And now you wished to +express the internal picture with all its glowing tints, with all its +light and shade, and laboured hard to find words only to begin. You +thought that in the very first word you ought to crowd together all the +wonderful, noble, horrible, comical, frightful, that had happened, so +that it might strike all the hearers at once like an electric shock. +But every word, every thing that is in the form of speech, appeared to +you colourless, cold and dead. You hunt and hunt, and stutter and +stammer, and the sober questions of your friends dart like icy breezes +upon your internal fire until it is ready to go out; whereas if, like a +bold painter, you had first with a few daring strokes drawn an outline +of the internal picture, you might with small trouble have laid on the +colours brighter and brighter, and the living throng of various forms +would have carried your friends along with it, and they, like you, +would have seen themselves in the picture that had proceeded from your +mind. Now I must confess to you, kind reader, that no one has really +asked me for the history of the young Nathaniel, but you know well +enough that I belong to the queer race of authors, who, if they have +any thing in their mind, such as I have just described, feel as if +every one who comes near them, and indeed perhaps the whole world +besides, is asking them: “What is it then--tell it, my dear friend?” +Thus was I forcibly compelled to tell you of the momentous life of +Nathaniel. The singularity and marvellousness of the story filled my +entire soul, but for that very reason and because, my reader, I had to +make you equally inclined to endure oddity, which is no small matter, I +tormented myself to begin the history of Nathaniel in a manner as +inspiring, original and striking as possible. “Once upon a time,” the +beautiful beginning of every tale, was too tame. “In the little +provincial town of S---- lived”--was somewhat better, as it at least +prepared for the climax. Or should I dart at once _medias in res_, +with “Go to the devil, cried the student Nathaniel with rage and horror +in his wild looks, when the barometer-seller, Guiseppe Coppola?”--I had +indeed already written this down, when I fancied that in the wild looks +of the student Nathaniel, I could detect something ludicrous, whereas +the story is not comical at all. No form of language suggested itself +to my mind, which even in the slightest degree seemed to reflect the +colouring of the internal picture. I resolved that I would not begin +it at all. So take, gentle reader, the three letters, which friend +Lothaire was good enough to give me, as the sketch of the picture which +I shall endeavour to colour more and more as I proceed in my narrative. +Perhaps, like a good portrait-painter, I may succeed in catching many a +form in such a manner, that you will find it is a likeness without +having the original, and feel as if you had often seen the person with +your own corporeal eyes. Perchance, dear reader, you will then believe +that nothing is stranger and madder than actual life, and that this is +all that the poet can conceive, as it were in the dull reflection of a +dimly polished mirror. + +In order that that which it is necessary in the first place to know, +may be made clearer, we must add to these letters the circumstance, +that shortly after the death of Nathaniel’s father, Clara and Lothaire, +the children of a distant relative, who had likewise died, and left +them orphans, were taken by Nathaniel’s mother to her own home. Clara +and Nathaniel formed a strong attachment for each other, and no one in +the world having any objection to make, they were betrothed, when +Nathaniel left the place to pursue his studies in G----. He is, +according to the date of his last letter, hearing the lectures of the +celebrated professor of physics, Spalanzani. + +Now I could proceed in my story with confidence, but at this moment +Clara’s image stands so plainly before me, that I cannot look another +way, as indeed was always the case when she gazed at me, with one of +her lively smiles. Clara could not by any means be reckoned beautiful; +that was the opinion of all who are competent judges of beauty, by +their calling. Nevertheless, the architects praised the exact symmetry +of her frame, and the painters considered her neck, shoulders, and +bosom almost too chastely formed, but then they all fell in love with +her wondrous Magdalen-hair, and above every thing prated about +_battonisch_ colouring. One of them, a most fantastical fellow, +singularly compared Clara’s eyes to a lake by Ruysdael, in which the +pure azure of a cloudless sky, the wood and flowery field, the whole +cheerful life of the rich landscape are reflected. Poets and composers +went still further. “What is a lake--what is a mirror!” said they, +“can we look upon the girl without wondrous, heavenly songs and tunes +flashing towards us from her glances, and penetrating our inmost soul, +so that all there is awakened and stirred. If even then we sing +nothing that is really sensible, there is not much in us, and that we +can feelingly read in the delicate smile which plays on Clara’s lips, +when we presume to tinkle something before her, which is to pass for a +song, although it is only a confused jumble of tones.” So it was. +Clara had the vivid fancy of a cheerful, unembarrassed child, a deep, +tender, feminine disposition, an acute, clever understanding. The +misty dreams had but a bad chance with her, since, though she did not +talk,--as indeed talking would have been altogether repugnant to her +tacit nature, her bright glance and her firm ironical smile would say +to them: “Good friends, how can you imagine that I shall take your +fleeting shadowy images for real forms with life and motion?” On this +account Clara was censured by many as cold, unfeeling and prosaic; +while others, who conceived life in its clear depth, greatly loved the +feeling, acute, childlike girl, but none so much as Nathaniel, whose +perception in art and science was clear and strong. Clara was attached +to her lover with all her soul, and when he parted from her, the first +cloud passed over her life. With what transport did she rush into his +arms when, as he had promised in his last letter to Lothaire, he had +actually returned to his native town and entered his mother’s room. +Nathaniel’s expectations were completely fulfilled; for directly he saw +Clara he thought neither of the Advocate Coppelius, nor of her +“sensible” letter. All gloomy forebodings had gone. + +However, Nathaniel was quite right, when he wrote to his friend +Lothaire that the form of the repulsive barometer-seller, Coppola, had +had a most hostile effect on his life. All felt, even in the first +days, that Nathaniel had undergone a thorough change in his whole +temperament. He sank into a gloomy reverie, and conducted himself in a +strange manner, that had never been known in him before. Every thing, +his whole life, had become to him a dream and a foreboding, and he was +always saying that every man, although he might think himself free, +only served for the cruel sport of dark powers. These he said it was +vain to resist, and man must patiently resign himself to his fate. He +went even so far as to say, that it is foolish to think that we do any +thing in art and science according to our own self-acting will, for the +inspiration which alone enables us to produce any thing, does not +proceed from within ourselves, but is the effect of a higher principle +without. + +To the clear-headed Clara this mysticism was in the highest degree +repugnant, but contradiction appeared to be useless. Only when +Nathaniel proved that Coppelius was the evil principle, which had +seized him at the moment when he was listening behind the curtain, and +that this repugnant principle would in some horrible manner disturb the +happiness of their life, Clara grew very serious, and said: “Yes, +Nathaniel, you are right. Coppelius is an evil, hostile principle; he +can produce terrible effects, like a diabolical power that has come +invisibly into life; but only then, when you will not banish him from +your mind and thoughts. So long as you believe in him he really +exists, and exerts his influence; only your belief is his power.” + +Nathaniel, quite indignant that Clara established the demon’s existence +only in his own mind, would then come out with all the mystical +doctrine of devils and fearful powers. But Clara would break off +peevishly, by introducing some indifferent matter, to the no small +annoyance of Nathaniel. He thought that such deep secrets were closed +to cold, unsusceptible minds, without being clearly aware that he +reckoned Clara among these subordinate natures, and therefore he +constantly endeavoured to initiate her into the mysteries. In the +morning, when Clara was getting breakfast ready, he stood by her, and +read out of all sorts of mystical books, till she cried: “But, dear +Nathaniel, suppose I blame you as the evil principle, that has a +hostile effect upon my coffee? For if to please you, I leave every +thing standing still, and look in your eyes, while you read, my coffee +will run into the fire, and none of you will get any breakfast.” + +Nathaniel closed the book at once, and hurried indignantly to his +chamber. Once he had a remarkable _forte_ for graceful, lively tales, +which he wrote down, and to which Clara listened with the greatest +delight; now, his creations were gloomy, incomprehensible, formless, so +that although Clara, out of compassion, did not say so, he plainly felt +how little she was interested. Nothing was more insupportable to Clara +than tediousness; in her looks and in her words a mental drowsiness, +not to be conquered, was expressed. Nathaniel’s productions were, +indeed, very tedious. His indignation at Clara’s cold, prosaic +disposition, constantly increased, and Clara could not overcome her +dislike of Nathaniel’s dark, gloomy, tedious mysticism, so that they +became more and more estranged from each other in mind, without +perceiving it. The form of the ugly Coppelius, as Nathaniel himself +was forced to confess, grew more dim in his fancy, and it often cost +him trouble to colour with sufficient liveliness in his pictures, when +he appeared as a ghastly bugbear of fate. At last it struck him that +he would make the gloomy foreboding, that Coppelius would destroy his +happiness in love, the subject of a poem. He represented himself and +Clara as united by true love; but occasionally it seemed as though a +black hand darted into their life, and tore away some newly-springing +joy. At last, while they were standing at the altar, the hideous +Coppelius appeared, and touched Clara’s lively eyes. They flashed into +Nathaniel’s heart, like bleeding sparks, scorching and burning, when +Coppelius caught him, and flung him into a flaming, fiery circle, which +flew round with the swiftness of the stream, and carried him along with +it, amid its roaring. The roar is like that of the hurricane, when it +fiercely lashes the foaming waves, which, like black giants with white +heads, rise up for the furious combat. But through the wild tumult he +hears Clara’s voice: “Can you not, then, see me? Coppelius has +deceived you. Those, indeed, were not my eyes, which so burned in your +breast--they were glowing drops of your own heart’s blood. I have my +eyes still--only look at them!” Nathaniel reflects: “That is Clara, +and I am hers for ever!” Then it seems to him as though thought +forcibly entered the fiery circle, which stands still, while the noise +dully ceases in the dark abyss. Nathaniel looks into Clara’s eyes, but +it is only death that, with Clara’s eyes, kindly looks on him. + +While Nathaniel composed this poem he was very calm and collected; he +polished and improved every line, and having subjected himself to the +fetters of metre, he did not rest till all was correct and melodious. +When at last he had finished and read the poem aloud to himself, a wild +horror seized him, and he cried out: “Whose horrible voice is that?” +Soon, however, the whole appeared to him a very successful work, and he +felt that it must inflame Clara’s cold temperament, although he did not +clearly consider for what Clara was to be excited, nor what purpose it +would answer to torment her with the frightful images which threatened +a horrible destiny, destructive to their love. Both of them--that is +to say Nathaniel and Clara--were sitting in their mother’s little +garden, Clara very cheerful, because Nathaniel, during the three days +in which he had been writing his poem, had not teased her with his +dreams and his forebodings. Even Nathaniel spoke livelily and joyfully +about pleasant matters, as he used to do formerly, so that Clara said: +“Now for the first time I have you again! Do you not see that we have +driven away the ugly Coppelius?” Then it first struck Nathaniel that +he had in his pocket the poem, which he had intended to read. He at +once drew the sheets out and began, while Clara, expecting something +tedious as usual, resigned herself and began quietly to knit. But as +the dark cloud rose ever blacker and blacker, she let the stocking fall +and looked full into his face. He was carried along unceasingly by his +poem, an internal fire deeply reddened his cheeks, tears flowed from +his eyes. At last when he had concluded, he groaned in a state of +utter exhaustion, and catching Clara’s hand, sighed forth, as if melted +into the most inconsolable grief: “Oh Clara!--Clara!” Clara pressed +him gently to her bosom, and said softly, but very solemnly and +sincerely: “Nathaniel, dearest Nathaniel, do throw that mad, senseless, +insane stuff into the fire!” Upon this Nathaniel sprang up enraged, +and thrusting Clara from him, cried: “Thou inanimate, accursed +automaton!” He ran off; Clara, deeply offended, shed bitter tears, and +sobbed aloud: “Ah, he has never loved me, for he does not understand +me.” Lothaire entered the arbour; Clara was obliged to tell him all +that had occurred. He loved his sister with all his soul, and every +word of her complaint fell like a spark of fire into his heart, so that +the indignation which he had long harboured against the visionary +Nathaniel, now broke out into the wildest rage. He ran to Nathaniel +and reproached him for his senseless conduct towards his beloved sister +in hard words, which the infuriated Nathaniel retorted in the same +style. The appellation of “fantastical, mad fool,” was answered by +that of “miserable common-place fellow.” A duel was inevitable. They +agreed on the following morning, according to the academical custom of +the place, to fight with sharp rapiers behind the garden. Silently and +gloomily they slunk about. Clara had overheard the violent dispute, +and seeing the fencing-master bring the rapiers at dawn, guessed what +was to occur. Having reached the place of combat, Lothaire and +Nathaniel had in gloomy silence flung off their coats, and with the +fierce desire of fighting in their flaming eyes, were about to fall +upon one another, when Clara rushed through the garden door. Sobbing, +she cried aloud, “Ye wild cruel men! Strike me down before you attack +each other, for how shall I live longer in the world if my lover +murders my brother, or my brother murders my lover.” Lothaire lowered +his weapon, and looked in silence on the ground; but in Nathaniel’s +heart, amid the most poignant sorrow, revived all the love for the +beautiful Clara, which he had felt in the best days of his happy youth. +The weapon fell from his hand, he threw himself at Clara’s feet. “Can +you ever forgive me, my only--my beloved Clara? Can you forgive me, my +dear brother, Lothaire?” + +Lothaire was touched by the deep contrition of his friend; all three +embraced in reconciliation amid a thousand tears, and vowed eternal +love and fidelity. + +Nathaniel felt as though a heavy burden, which pressed him to the +ground, had been rolled away, as though by resisting the dark power, +which held him fast, he had saved his whole being, which had been +threatened with annihilation. Three happy days he passed with his dear +friends, and then went to G----, where he intended to stay a year, and +then to return to his native town for ever. + +All that referred to Coppelius was kept a secret from the mother, for +it was well known that she could not think of him without terror, as +she, as well as Nathaniel, accused him of causing her husband’s death. + + * * * * * + +How surprised was Nathaniel, when proceeding to his lodging, he saw +that the whole house was burned down, and that only the bare walls +stood up amid the ashes. However, notwithstanding the fire had broken +out in the laboratory of the apothecary who lived on the ground-floor, +and had therefore consumed the house from bottom to top, some bold +active friends had succeeded in entering Nathaniel’s room in the upper +story, in time to save the books, manuscripts, and instruments. They +carried all safe and sound into another house, where they took a room, +which Nathaniel entered at once. He did not think it at all remarkable +that he lodged opposite to Professor Spalanzani; neither did it appear +singular when he perceived that his window looked straight into the +room where Olympia often sat alone, so that he could plainly recognise +her figure, although the features of her face were indistinct and +confused. At last it struck him, that Olympia often remained for hours +in this attitude, in which he had once seen her through the glass-door, +sitting at a little table without any occupation, and that she plainly +enough looked over at him with an unvarying glance. He was forced to +confess that he had never seen a more lovely form, but with Clara in +his heart, the stiff Olympia was perfectly indifferent to him. +Occasionally, to be sure, he gave a transient look over his compendium, +at the beautiful statue, but that was all. He was just writing to +Clara, when he heard a light tap at the door; it paused at his words, +and the repulsive face of Coppola peeped in. Nathaniel’s heart +trembled within him, but remembering what Spalanzani had told him about +the countryman, Coppola, and also the sacred promises he had made to +Clara with respect to the Sandman Coppelius, he felt ashamed of his +childish fear, and collecting himself with all his might, said as +softly and civily as possible: “I do not want a barometer, my good +friend; pray, go.” Upon this, Coppola advanced a good way into the +room, and said in a hoarse voice, while his wide mouth distorted itself +into a hideous laugh, and his little eyes under their long gray lashes +sparkled forth piercingly: “Eh, eh--no barometer--no barometer? I have +besides pretty eyes--pretty eyes!”--“Madman!” cried Nathaniel with +horror, “how can you have eyes?--Eyes?” But Coppola had already put +his barometer aside, and plunged his hand into his wide coat-pocket, +whence he drew lunettes and spectacles, which he placed upon the table +“There--there--spectacles on the nose, those are my eyes--pretty eyes!” +And so saying he drew out more and more spectacles so, that the whole +table began to glisten and sparkle in the most extraordinary manner. A +thousand eyes glanced, and quivered convulsively, and stared at +Nathaniel; yet he could not look away from the table, and Coppola kept +still laying down more and more spectacles, while flaming glances were +intermingled more and more wildly, and shot their blood-red rays into +Nathaniel’s breast. Overcome with horror, he shrieked out: “Hold, +hold, frightful man!” He seized fast by the arm Coppola, who was +searching his pockets to bring out still more spectacles, although the +whole table was already covered. Coppola had greatly extricated +himself with a hoarse repulsive laugh, and with the words: “Ah, nothing +for you--but here are pretty glasses;” he had collected all the +spectacles, put them up, and from the breast-pocket of his coat had +drawn forth a number of telescopes large and small. As soon as the +spectacles were removed Nathaniel felt quite easy, and thinking of +Clara, perceived that the hideous phantom was but the creature of his +own mind, and that Coppola was an honest optician, and could by no +means be the accursed double of Coppelius. Moreover, in all the +glasses which Coppola now placed on the table, there was nothing +remarkable, or at least nothing so ghost-like as the spectacles, and to +make matters right Nathaniel resolved to buy something of Coppola. He +took up a little and very neatly worked pocket-telescope, and looked +through the window to try it. Never in his life had he met a glass +which brought the objects so sharply, plainly, and clearly before his +eyes. Involuntarily he looked into Spalanzani’s room; Olympia was +sitting as usual before the little table, with her arms laid upon it, +and her hands folded. For the first time could he see the wondrous +beauty in the form of her face;--only the eyes seemed to him singularly +stiff and dead. Nevertheless, as he looked more sharply through the +glass, it seemed to him as if moist morn-beams were rising in the eyes +of Olympia. It was as if the power of seeing was kindled for the first +time; the glances flashed with constantly increasing liveliness. As if +spell-bound, Nathaniel reclined against the window, meditating on the +charming Olympia. A hemming and scraping aroused him as if from a +dream. Coppola was standing behind him: “_Tre zecchini_--three +ducats!” Nathaniel, who had quite forgotten the optician, quickly paid +him what he asked. “Is it not so? A pretty glass--a pretty glass?” +asked Coppola, in his hoarse, repulsive voice, and with his malicious +smile. “Yes--yes,” replied Nathaniel, peevishly; “good bye, friend.” +Coppola left the room, not without casting many strange glances at +Nathaniel. He heard him laugh loudly on the stairs. “Ah,” thought +Nathaniel, “he is laughing at me because no doubt, I have paid him too +much for this little glass.” While he softly uttered these words, it +seemed as if a deep deadly sigh was sounding fearfully through the +room, and his breath was stopped by inward anguish. He perceived, +however, that it was himself that had sighed. “Clara,” he said to +himself, “is right in taking me for a senseless dreamer, but it is pure +madness--nay, more than madness, that the stupid thought, that I have +paid Coppola too much for the glass, pains me even so strangely. I +cannot see the cause.” He now sat down to finish his letter to Clara; +but a glance through the window convinced him that Olympia was still +sitting there, and he instantly sprang out, as if impelled by an +irresistible power, seized Coppola’s glass, and could not tear himself +from the seductive view of Olympia, till his friend and brother +Sigismund, called him to go to Professor Spalanzani’s lecture. The +curtain was drawn close before the fatal room, and he could neither +perceive Olympia now nor during the two following days, although he +scarcely ever left the window, and constantly looked through Coppola’s +glass. On the third day the windows were completely covered. Quite in +despair, and impelled by a burning wish, he ran out of the town-gate. +Olympia’s form floated before him in the air, stepped forth from the +bushes, and peeped at him with large beaming eyes from the clear brook. +Clara’s image had completely vanished from his mind; he thought of +nothing but Olympia, and complained aloud and in a murmuring tone: “Ah, +thou noble, sublime star of my love, hast thou only risen upon me, to +vanish immediately, and leave me in dark hopeless night?” + +When he was retiring to his lodging, he perceived that there was a +great bustle in Spalanzani’s house. The doors were wide open, all +sorts of utensils were being carried in, the windows of the first floor +were being taken out, maid servants were going about sweeping and +dusting with great hair-brooms, and carpenters and upholsterers were +knocking and hammering within. Nathaniel remained standing in the +street in a state of perfect wonder, when Sigismund came up to him, +laughing, and said: “Now, what do you say to our old Spalanzani?” +Nathaniel assured him that he could say nothing because he knew nothing +about the professor, but on the contrary perceived with astonishment +the mad proceedings in a house otherwise so quiet and gloomy. He then +learnt from Sigismund that Spalanzani intended to give a grand festival +on the following day,--a concert and ball--and that half the university +was invited. It was generally reported that Spalanzani, who had so +long kept his daughter most painfully from every human eye, would now +let her appear for the first time. + +Nathaniel found a card of invitation, and with heart beating highly +went at the appointed hour to the professor’s, where the coaches were +already rolling, and the lights were shining in the decorated saloons. +The company was numerous and brilliant. Olympia appeared dressed with +great richness and taste. Her beautifully turned face, her figure +called for admiration. The somewhat strange bend of her back inwards, +the wasp-like thinness of her waist, seemed to be produced by too tight +lacing. In her step and deportment there was something measured and +stiff, which struck many as unpleasant, but it was ascribed to the +constraint produced by the company. The concert began, Olympia played +the piano with great dexterity, and executed a bravura, with a voice, +like the sound of a glass bell, clear, and almost cutting. Nathaniel +was quite enraptured; he stood in the hindermost row, and could not +perfectly recognise Olympia’s features in the dazzling light. He, +therefore, quite unperceived, took out Coppola’s glass, and looked +towards the fair Olympia. Ah! then he saw, with what a longing glance +she looked towards him, how every tone first resolved itself plainly in +the glance of love, which penetrated, in its glowing career, his inmost +soul. The artistical _roulades_ seemed to Nathaniel the exultation of +a mind illuminated with love, and when, at last, after the cadence, the +long trill sounded shrilly through the saloon, he felt as if grasped by +glowing arms; he could no longer restrain himself, but with mingled +pain and rapture shouted out, “Olympia!” All looked at him, and many +laughed. The organist of the cathedral made a more gloomy face than +usual, and simply said: “Well, well.” The concert had finished, the +ball began. “To dance with her--with her!” That was the aim of all +Nathaniel’s wishes, of all his efforts; but how to gain courage to ask +her, the queen of the festival? Nevertheless--he himself did not know +how it happened--no sooner had the dancing begun, than he was standing +close to Olympia, who had not yet been asked to dance, and, scarcely +able to stammer out a few words, had seized her hand. The hand of +Olympia was as cold as ice; he felt a horrible deadly frost thrilling +through him. He looked into her eye--that was beaming full of love and +desire, and at the same time it seemed as though the pulse began to +beat, and the stream of life to glow in the cold hand. And in the soul +of Nathaniel the joy of love rose still higher; he clasped the +beautiful Olympia, and with her flew through the dance. He thought +that his dancing was usually correct as to time, but the peculiar +rhythmical steadiness with which Olympia moved, and which often put him +completely out, soon showed him, that his time was very defective. +However, he would dance with no other lady, and would have liked to +murder any one who approached Olympia for the purpose of asking her. +But this only happened twice, and to his astonishment Olympia remained +seated after every dance, when he lost no time in making her rise +again. Had he been able to see any other object besides the fair +Olympia, all sorts of unfortunate quarrels would have been inevitable, +for the half-soft, scarcely-suppressed laughter, which arose among the +young people in every corner, was manifestly directed to Olympia, whom +they pursued with very curious glances--one could not tell why. Heated +by the dance, and by the wine, of which he had freely partaken, +Nathaniel had laid aside all his ordinary reserve. He sat by Olympia, +with her hand in his, and, highly inflamed and inspired, told his +passion, in words which no one understood--neither himself nor Olympia. +Yet, perhaps, _she_ did; for she looked immoveably in his face, and +sighed several times, “Ah, ah!” Upon this, Nathaniel said, “Oh, thou +splendid, heavenly lady! Thou ray from the promised land of love--thou +deep soul, in winch all my being is reflected!” with much more stuff of +the like kind; but Olympia merely went on sighing, “Ah--ah!” Professor +Spalanzani occasionally passed the happy pair, and smiled on them, with +a look of singular satisfaction. To Nathaniel, although he felt in +quite another region, it seemed all at once as though Professor +Spalanzani was growing considerably darker; he looked around, and, to +his no small horror, perceived that the two last candles in the empty +saloon had burned down to their sockets, and were just going out. +Music and dancing had ceased long ago. “Separation--separation!” he +cried, wildly, and in despair; he kissed Olympia’s hand, he bent +towards her mouth, when his glowing lips were met by lips cold as ice! +Just as when he touched Olympia’s cold hand, he felt himself overcome +by horror; the legend of the dead bride darted suddenly through his +mind, but Olympia pressed him fast, and her lips seemed to recover to +life at his kiss. Professor Spalanzani strode through the empty hall, +his steps caused a hollow echo, and his figure, round which a +flickering shadow played, had a fearful, spectral appearance. “Dost +thou love me, dost thou love me, Olympia? Only this word!--Dost thou +love me?” So whispered Nathaniel; but Olympia, as she rose, only +sighed, “Ah--ah!” “Yes, my gracious, my beautiful star of love,” said +Nathaniel, “thou hast risen upon me, and thou wilt shine, ever +illuminating my inmost soul.” “Ah--ah!” replied Olympia, going. +Nathaniel followed her; they both stood before the professor. + +“You have had a very animated conversation with my daughter,” said he, +smiling; “so, dear Herr Nathaniel, if you have any taste for talking +with a silly girl, your visits shall be welcome.” + +Nathaniel departed, with a whole heaven beaming in his bosom. The next +day Spalanzani’s festival was the subject of conversation. +Notwithstanding the professor had done every thing to appear splendid, +the wags had all sorts of incongruities and oddities to talk about, and +were particularly hard upon the dumb, stiff Olympia, to whom, in spite +of her beautiful exterior, they ascribed absolute stupidity, and were +pleased to find therein the cause why Spalanzani kept her so long +concealed. Nathaniel did not hear this without increased rage; but, +nevertheless, he held his peace, for, thought he, “Is it worth while to +convince these fellows that it is their own stupidity that prevents +them from recognising Olympia’s deep, noble mind?” + +One day Sigismund said to him: “Be kind enough, brother, to tell me how +it was possible for a sensible fellow like you to fall in love with +that wax face, that wooden doll up there?” + +Nathaniel was about to fly out in a passion, but he quickly recollected +himself, and retorted: “Tell me, Sigismund, how it is that Olympia’s +heavenly charms could escape your glance, which generally perceives +every thing so clearly--your active senses? But, for that very reason, +Heaven be thanked, I have not you for my rival; otherwise, one of us +must have fallen a bleeding corpse!” + +Sigismund plainly perceived his friend’s condition, so he skilfully +gave the conversation a turn, and added, after observing that in +love-affairs there was no disputing about the object: “Nevertheless it +is strange, that many of us think much the same about Olympia. To +us--pray do not take it ill, brother,--she appears singularly stiff and +soulless. Her shape is symmetrical--so is her face--that is true! She +might pass for beautiful, if her glance were not so utterly without a +ray of life--without the power of seeing. Her pace is strangely +measured, every movement seems to depend on some wound-up clockwork. +Her playing--her singing has the unpleasantly correct and spiritless +measure of a singing machine, and the same may be said of her dancing. +To us, this Olympia has been quite unpleasant; we wished to have +nothing to do with her; it seems as if she acts like a living being, +and yet has some strange peculiarity of her own.” Nathaniel did not +completely yield to the bitter feeling, which was coming over him at +these words of Sigismund; he mastered his indignation, and merely said, +with great earnestness, “Well may Olympia appear awful to you, cold +prosaic man. Only to the poetical mind does the similarly organised +develop itself. To me alone was her glance of love revealed, beaming +through mind and thought; only in the love of Olympia do I find myself +again. It may not suit you, that she does not indulge in idle +chit-chat like other shallow minds. She utters few words, it is true, +but these few words appear as genuine hieroglyphics of the inner world, +full of love and deep knowledge of the spiritual life in contemplation +of the eternal _yonder_. But you have no sense for all this, and my +words are wasted on you.” “God preserve you, brother,” said Sigismund +very mildly, almost sorrowfully; “but it seems to me, that you are in +an evil way. You may depend upon me, if all--no, no, I will not say +any thing further.” All of a sudden it seemed to Nathaniel as if the +cold prosaic Sigismund meant very well towards him, and, therefore, he +shook the proffered hand very heartily. + +Nathaniel had totally forgotten, that there was in the world a Clara, +whom he had once loved;--his mother--Lothaire--all had vanished from +his memory; he lived only for Olympia, with whom he sat for hours every +day, uttering strange fantastical stuff about his love, about the +sympathy that glowed to life, about the affinity of souls, to all of +which Olympia listened with great devotion. From the very bottom of +his desk, he drew out all that he had ever written. Poems, fantasies, +visions, romances, tales--this stock was daily increased with all sorts +of extravagant sonnets, stanzas, and canzone, and he read all to +Olympia for hours in succession without fatigue. Never had he known +such an admirable listener. She neither embroidered nor knitted, she +never looked out of window, she fed no favourite bird, she played +neither with lap-dog nor pet cat, she did not twist a slip of paper nor +any thing else in her hand, she was not obliged to suppress a yawn by a +gentle forced cough. In short, she sat for hours, looking straight +into her lover’s eyes, without stirring, and her glance became more and +more lively and animated. Only when Nathaniel rose at last, and kissed +her hand and also her lips, she said “Ah, ah!” adding “good night, +dearest!” “Oh deep, noble mind!” cried Nathaniel in his own room, “by +thee, by thee, dear one, am I fully comprehended.” He trembled with +inward transport, when he considered the wonderful accordance that was +revealed more and more every day in his own mind, and that of Olympia, +for it seemed to him as if Olympia had spoken concerning him and his +poetical talent out of the depths of his own mind;--as if the voice had +actually sounded from within himself. That must indeed have been the +case, for Olympia never uttered any words whatever beyond those which +have been already mentioned. Even when Nathaniel, in clear and sober +moments, as for instance, when he had just woke in the morning, +remembered Olympia’s utter passivity, and her paucity and scarcity of +words, he said: “Words, words! The glance of her heavenly eye speaks +more than any language here below. Can a child of heaven adapt herself +to the narrow circle which a miserable earthly necessity has drawn?” +Professor Spalanzani appeared highly delighted at the intimacy of his +daughter with Nathaniel. To the latter he gave the most unequivocal +signs of approbation, and when Nathaniel ventured at last to hint at an +union with Olympia, he smiled with his white face, and thought “he +would leave his daughter a free choice in the matter.” Encouraged by +these words, and with burning passion in his heart, Nathaniel resolved +to implore Olympia on the very next day, that she would say directly, +in plain words, that which her kind glance had told him long ago; +namely, that she loved him. He sought the ring which his mother had +given him at parting, that he might give it to Olympia as a symbol of +his devotion, of his life which budded forth and bloomed with her +alone. Clara’s letters and Lothaire’s came into his hands during the +search; but he flung them aside indifferently, found the ring, put it +up and hastened over to Olympia. Already on the steps, in the hall he +heard a strange noise, which seemed to proceed from Spalanzani’s room. +There was a stamping, a clattering, a pushing, a hurling against the +door, intermingled with curses and imprecations. “Let go, let go, +rascal!--scoundrel! Body and soul ventured in it? Ha, ha, ha! that I +never will consent to--I, I made the eyes, I the clockwork--stupid +blockhead with your clockwork--accursed dog of a bungling +watch-maker--off with you--Satan--stop, pipe-maker--infernal +beast--hold--begone--let go!” These words were uttered by the voices +of Spalanzani, and the hideous Coppelius, who was thus raging and +clamoring. Nathaniel rushed in, overcome by the most inexpressible +anguish. The professor held a female figure fast by the shoulders, the +Italian Coppola grasped it by the feet, and thus they were tugging and +pulling, this way and that, contending for the possession of it, with +the utmost fury. Nathaniel started back with horror, when in the +figure he recognised Olympia. Boiling with the wildest indignation, he +was about to rescue his beloved from these infuriated men, but at that +moment, Coppola, turning himself with the force of a giant, wrenched +the figure from the professor’s hand, and then with the figure itself +gave him a tremendous blow, which made him reel and fall backwards over +the table, where vials, retorts, bottles, and glass cylinders were +standing. All these were dashed to a thousand shivers. Now Coppola +flung the figure across his shoulders, and, with frightful, yelling +laughter, dashed down the stairs, so that the feet of the figure, which +dangled in the ugliest manner, rattled with a wooden sound on every +step. Nathaniel stood paralysed; he had seen but too plainly that +Olympia’s waxen, deadly pale countenance had no eyes, but black holes +instead--she was, indeed, a lifeless doll. Spalanzani was writhing on +the floor; the pieces of glass had cut his head, heart, and arms, and +the blood was spirting up, as from so many fountains. But he soon +collected all his strength. “After him--after him--why do you pause? +Coppelius, Coppelius, has robbed me of my best automaton--a work of +twenty years--body and soul set upon it--the clock-work--the +speech--the walk, mine; the eyes stolen from you. The infernal +rascal--after him; fetch Olympia--there you have the eyes!” + +And now Nathaniel saw how a pair of eyes, which lay upon the ground, +were staring at him; these Spalanzani caught up, with the unwounded +hand, and flung against his heart. At this, madness seized him with +its burning claws, and clutched into his soul, tearing to pieces all +his thoughts and senses. “Ho--ho--ho--a circle of fire! of fire!--turn +thyself round, circle! merrily, merrily, ho, thou wooden doll--turn +thyself, pretty doll!” With these words he flew at the professor and +pressed in his throat. He would have strangled him, had not the noise +attracted many people, who rushed in, forced open Nathaniel’s grasp, +and thus saved the professor, whose wounds were bound immediately. +Sigismund, strong as he was, was not able to master the mad Nathaniel, +who with frightful voice kept crying out: “Turn thyself, wooden doll!” +and struck around him with clenched fists. At last the combined force +of many succeeded in overcoming him, in flinging him to the ground, and +binding him. His words were merged into a hideous roar, like that of a +brute, and raging in this insane condition he was taken to the +mad-house. + +Before, gentle reader, I proceed to tell thee what more befel the +unfortunate Nathaniel, I can tell thee, in case thou takest an interest +in the skilful optician and automaton-maker, Spalanzani, that he was +completely healed of his wounds. He was, however, obliged to leave the +university, because Nathaniel’s story had created a sensation, and it +was universally deemed an unpardonable imposition to smuggle wooden +dolls instead of living persons into respectable tea-parties--for such +Olympia had visited with success. The lawyers called it a most subtle +deception, and the more culpable, inasmuch as he had planned it so +artfully against the public, that not a single soul--a few cunning +students excepted--had detected it, although all now wished to play the +acute, and referred to various facts, which appeared to them +suspicious. Nothing very clever was revealed in this way. For +instance, could it strike any one as so very suspicious, that Olympia, +according to the expression of an elegant tea-ite, had, contrary to all +usage, sneezed oftener than she had yawned? “The _former_,” remarked +this elegant person, “was the self-winding-up of the concealed +clockwork, which had, moreover, creaked audibly”--and so on. The +professor of poetry and eloquence took a pinch of snuff, clapped first +the lid of his box, cleared his throat, and said, solemnly, “Ladies and +gentlemen, do you not perceive how the whole affair lies? It is all an +allegory--a continued metaphor--you understand me--_Sapienti sat_.” +But many were not satisfied with this; the story of the automaton had +struck deep root into their souls, and, in fact, an abominable mistrust +against human figures in general, began to creep in. Many lovers, to +be quite convinced that they were not enamoured of wooden dolls, would +request their mistress to sing and dance a little out of time, to +embroider and knit, and play with their lap-dogs, while listening to +reading, &c.; and, above all, not to listen merely, but also sometimes +to talk, in such a manner as presupposed actual thought and feeling. +With many did the bond of love become firmer, and more chaining, while +others, on the contrary, slipped gently out of the noose. “One cannot +really answer for this,” said some. At tea-parties, yawning prevailed +to an incredible extent, and there was no sneezing at all, that all +suspicion might be avoided. Spalanzani, as already stated, was obliged +to decamp, to escape the criminal prosecution for fraudulently +introducing an automaton into human society. Coppola had vanished also. + +Nathaniel awakened as from a heavy, frightful dream; he opened his +eyes, and felt an indescribable sensation of pleasure streaming through +him, with soft heavenly warmth. He was in bed in his own room, in his +father’s house, Clara was stooping over him, and Lothaire and his +mother were standing near. “At last, at last, oh beloved Nathaniel, +hast thou recovered from thy serious illness--now thou art again mine!” +So spoke Clara, from the very depth of her soul, and clasped Nathaniel +in her arms. But with mingled sorrow and delight did the brightly +glowing tears fall from his eyes, and he deeply groaned forth: “My +own--my own Clara!” Sigismund, who had faithfully remained with his +friend in the hour of trouble, now entered. Nathaniel stretched out +his hand to him. “And thou, faithful brother, hast not deserted me?” +Every trace of Nathaniel’s madness had vanished, and he soon gained +strength amid the care of his mother, his beloved, and his friends. +Good fortune also had visited the house, for an old penurious uncle, of +whom nothing had been expected, had died, and had left the mother, +besides considerable property, an estate in a pleasant spot near the +town. Thither Nathaniel, with his Clara, whom he now thought of +marrying, his mother, and Lothaire, desired to go. Nathaniel had now +grown milder and more docile than he had ever been, and he now +understood, for the first time, the heavenly purity and the greatness +of Clara’s mind. No one, by the slightest hint, reminded him of the +past. Only, when Sigismund took leave of him, Nathaniel said: +“Heavens, brother, I was in an evil way, but a good angel led me +betimes to the path of light! Ah, that was Clara!” Sigismund did not +let him carry the discourse further for fear that deeply wounding +recollections might burst forth bright and flaming. It was about this +time that the four happy persons thought of going to the estate. They +were crossing, at noon, the streets of the city, where they had made +several purchases, and the high steeple of the town-house already cast +its gigantic shadow over the market-place. “Oh,” said Clara, “let us +ascend it once more, and look at the distant mountains!” No sooner +said than done. Nathaniel and Clara both ascended the steps, the +mother returned home with the servant, and Lothaire, not inclined to +clamber up so many steps, chose to remain below. The two lovers stood +arm in arm in the highest gallery of the tower, and looked down upon +the misty forests, behind which the blue mountains were rising like a +gigantic city. + +“Look there at that curious little gray bush, which actually seems as +if it were striding towards us,” said Clara. Nathaniel mechanically +put his hand into his breast pocket--he found Coppola’s telescope, and +he looked on one side. Clara was before the glass. There was a +convulsive movement in his pulse and veins,--pale as death, he stared +at Clara, but soon streams of fire flashed and glared from his rolling +eyes, and he roared frightfully, like a hunted beast. Then he sprang +high into the air, and, in the intervals of a horrible laughter, +shrieked out, in a piercing tone, “Wooden doll--turn thyself!” Seizing +Clara with immense force he wished to hurl her down, but with the +energy of a desperate death-struggle she clutched the railings. +Lothaire heard the raging of the madman--he heard Clara’s shriek of +agony--fearful forebodings darted through his mind, he ran up, the door +of the second flight was fastened, and the shrieks of Clara became +louder and louder. Frantic with rage and anxiety, he dashed against +the door, which, at last, burst open. Clara’s voice became fainter and +fainter. “Help--help--save me!”--with these words the voice seemed to +die in the air. “She is gone--murdered by the madman!” cried Lothaire. +The door of the gallery was also closed, but despair gave him a giant’s +strength, and he burst it from the hinges. Heavens--Clara, grasped by +the mad Nathaniel, was hanging in the air over the gallery,--only with +one hand she still held one of the iron railings. Quick as lightning +Lothaire caught his sister, drew her in, and, at the same moment, +struck the madman in the face with his clenched fist, so that he reeled +and let go his prey. + +Lothaire ran down with his fainting sister in his arms. She was saved. +Nathaniel went raging about the gallery and bounded high in the air, +crying, “Fire circle turn thyself--turn thyself!” The people collected +at the sound of the wild shriek, and among them, prominent by his +gigantic stature, was the advocate Coppelius, who had just come to the +town, and was proceeding straight to the market-place. Some wished to +ascend and secure the madman, but Coppelius laughed, saying, “Ha, +ha,--only wait--he will soon come down of his own accord,” and looked +up like the rest. Nathaniel suddenly stood still as if petrified; he +stooped down, perceived Coppelius, and yelling out, “Ah, pretty +eyes--pretty eyes!”--he sprang over the railing. + +When Nathaniel lay on the stone pavement, with his head shattered, +Coppelius had disappeared in the crowd. + +Many years afterwards it is said that Clara was seen in a remote spot, +sitting hand in hand with a kind-looking man before the door of a +country house, while two lively boys played before her. From this it +may be inferred that she at last found that quiet domestic happiness +which suited her serene and cheerful mind, and which the morbid +Nathaniel would never have given her. + +J. O. + + +[1] Two characters in Schiller’s play of “Die Räuber.” + + + + +MICHAEL KOHLHAAS,[1] + +BY HEINRICH VON KLEIST. + +On the banks of the Hafel, about the middle of the sixteenth century, +lived a horse-dealer, named Michael Kohlhaas. He was the son of a +schoolmaster, and was one of the most honest, while at the same time he +was one of the most terrible persons of his period. Till his thirtieth +year this extraordinary man might have passed as a pattern of a good +citizen. In a village, which still bears his name, he held a farm, on +which, by means of his business, he was enabled to live quietly. The +children whom his wife bore him, he brought up in the fear of God to +honesty and industry; and there was not one among his neighbours who +had not felt the benefit of his kindness or his sense of justice. In +short, the world might have blessed his memory had he not carried one +virtue to too great an extreme. The feeling of justice made him a +robber and a murderer. + +He was once riding abroad, with a string of young horses, all sleek and +well-fed, and was calculating how he should expend the profit which he +hoped to make in the markets--apportioning part, like a good manager, +to gain further profit, and part to present enjoyment--when he came to +the Elbe, and found, by a stately castle in the Saxon dominion, a +toll-bar, which he had never seen on this road. He at once stopped +with his horses, while the rain was pouring down, and called to the +toll-taker, who soon, with a very cross face, peeped out of window. +The horse-dealer asked him to open the road. “What new fashion is +this?” said he, when, after a considerable time, the collector came out +of his house. “A sovereign privilege,” was his reply, as he unlocked +the bar, “granted to the Squire[2] Wenzel von Tronka.” “So,” said +Kohlhaas, “Wenzel’s the squire’s name, is it?”--and he looked at the +castle, which, with its glittering battlements, peered over the field. +“Is the old master dead?” “Of an apoplexy,” answered the collector, as +he lifted up the bar. “That’s a pity!” said Kohlhaas. “He was a +worthy old gentleman, who took delight in the intercourse of men, and +helped business when he could. Aye, once he had a dam built of stone, +because a mare of mine broke her leg yonder, where the way leads to the +village. Now, how much?” he asked, and with difficulty drew out from +his mantle, which fluttered in the wind, the _groschen_ required by the +collector. “Aye, old man,” said he, as the other muttered, “make +haste,” and cursed the weather.--“If the tree from which this bar was +fashioned had remained in the wood, it would have been better for both +of us.” Having paid the money, he would have pursued his journey, but +scarcely had he passed the bar than he heard behind him a new voice +calling from the tower: + +“Ho, there, horse-dealer!” and saw the castellan shut the window, and +hasten down to him. “Now, something else new!” said Kohlhaas to +himself, stopping with his horses. The castellan, buttoning a +waistcoat over his spacious stomach, came, and standing aslant against +the rain, asked for his passport. “Passport!” cried Kohlhaas; adding, +a little puzzled, that he had not one about him, to his knowledge; but +that he should like to be told what sort of a thing it was as he might +perchance be provided with one, notwithstanding. The castellan, eyeing +him askance, remarked, that without a written permission no +horse-dealer, with horses, would be allowed to pass the border. The +horse-dealer asserted that he had crossed the border seventeen times in +the course of his life without any such paper; that he knew perfectly +all the seignorial privileges which belonged to his business; that this +would only prove a mistake, and that he, therefore, hoped he might be +allowed to think it over; and, as his journey was long, not be detained +thus uselessly any further. The castellan answered that he would not +escape the eighteenth time; that the regulation had but lately +appeared, and that he must either take a passport here or return whence +he had come. The horse-dealer, who began to be nettled at these +illegal exactions, dismounted from his horse, after reflecting for a +while, and said he would speak to the Squire von Tronka himself. He +accordingly went up to the castle, followed by the castellan, who +muttered something about stingy money-scrapers, and the utility of +bleeding them, and both, measuring each other with their looks, entered +the hall. + +The squire, as it happened, was drinking with some boon companions, and +they all burst out into a ceaseless fit of laughter at some jest, when +Kohlhaas approached to state his grievance. The squire asked him what +he wanted, while the knights, eyeing the stranger, remained still; yet +hardly had he begun his request concerning the horses, than the whole +company cried out--“Horses! where are they?” and ran to the window to +see them. No sooner had they set eyes on the sleek lot than, on the +motion of the squire, down they flew into the court-yard. The rain had +ceased; castellan, bailiff and servants, were collected around, and all +surveyed the animals. One praised the sorrel with the white spot on +his forehead, another liked the chesnut, a third patted the dappled one +with tawney spots, and agreed that the horses were like so many stags, +and that none better could be reared in the country. Kohlhaas, in high +spirits, replied that the horses were no better than the knights who +should ride them, and asked them to make a purchase. The squire, who +was greatly taken with the strong sorrel stallion, asked the price, +while the bailiff pressed him to buy a pair of blacks which he thought +might be usefully employed on the estate; but when the horse-dealer +named his terms, the knights found them too high, and the squire said +that he might ride to the round table and find King Arthur if he fixed +such prices as these. Kohlhaas, who saw the castellan and the bailiff +whisper together, as they cast most significant glances on the blacks, +left nothing undone, actuated as he was by some dark foreboding, to +make them take the horses. + +“See sir,” he said to the squire, “I bought the blacks for +five-and-twenty gold crowns, six months ago. Give me thirty and they +are yours.” + +Two of the knights, who stood near the squire, said plainly enough that +the horses were well worth the money; but the squire thought that he +might buy the sorrel, while he objected to take the blacks, and made +preparations to depart, when Kohlhaas, saying that they would conclude +a bargain the next time he went that way with his horses, bade farewell +to the squire, and took his horse’s bridle to ride off. At this moment +the castellan stepped forward from the rest, and said that he had told +him he could not travel without a passport. Kohlhaas, turning round, +asked the squire whether this really was the case, adding that it would +prove the utter destruction of his business. The squire, somewhat +confused, answered as he withdrew, + +“Yes, Kohlhaas, you must have a pass; speak about it with the +castellan, and go your way.” Kohlhaas assured him that he had no +notion of evading such regulations as might be made respecting the +conveyance of horses, promised, in his way through Dresden, to get a +pass from the secretary’s office, and begged that he might, on this +occasion, be allowed to go on, as he knew nothing of the requisition. +“Well,” said the squire, while the storm broke out anew and rattled +against his thin limbs, “Let the fellow go. Come,” said he to his +knights, and moving round, he was proceeding to the castle. The +castellan, however, turning to him said that Kohlhaas must at least +leave some pledge that he would get the passport. The squire, upon +this, remained standing at the castle-gate, while Kohlhaas asked what +security in money or in kind he should leave on account of the black +horses. The bailiff mumbled out that he thought the horses themselves +might as well be left. “Certainly,” said the castellan, “That is the +best plan. When he has got the pass he can take them away at any time.” + +Kohlhaas, astounded at so impudent a proposition, told the squire, who +was shivering and holding his waistcoat tight to his body, that he +should like to sell him the blacks; but the latter, as a gust of wind +drove a world of rain through the gate, cried out, to cut the matter +short, “If he won’t leave his horses pitch him over the bar back +again!” and so saying, left the spot. The horse-dealer, who saw that +he must give way to force, resolved, as he could not do otherwise, to +comply with the request, so he unfastened the blacks, and conducted +them to a stable which the castellan showed him, left a servant behind, +gave him money, told him to take care of the blacks till his return, +and doubting whether, on account of the advances made in breeding, +there might not be such a law in Saxony, he continued his journey with +the rest of his horses to Leipzig, where he wished to attend the fair. + +As soon as he reached Dresden, where, in one of the suburbs he had a +house with stables, being in the habit of carrying on his trade from +thence with the lesser markets of the country, he went to the +secretary’s office, and there learned from the councillors, some of +whom he knew, what he had expected at first--namely, that the story +about the passport was a mere fable. The displeased councillors +having, at the request of Kohlhaas, given him a certificate as to the +nullity of the requisition, he laughed at the thin squire’s jest, +though he did not exactly see the purport of it; and, having in a few +weeks sold his horses to his satisfaction, he returned to the +Tronkenburg without any bitter feeling beyond that at the general +troubles of the world. The castellan, to whom he showed the +certificate, gave no sort of explanation, but merely said, in answer to +the question of the horse-dealer, whether he might have the horses back +again, that he might go and fetch them. Already, as he crossed the +court-yard, Kohlhaas heard the unpleasant news that his servant, on +account of improper conduct, as they said, had been beaten and sent off +a few days after he had been left at the Tronkenburg. He asked the +young man who gave him this intelligence, what the servant had done, +and who had attended the horses in the meanwhile. He replied that he +did not know, and opened the stall in which they were kept to the +horse-dealer, whose heart already swelled with dark misgivings. How +great was his astonishment when, instead of his sleek, well-fed blacks, +he saw a couple of skinny, jaded creatures, with bones on which things +might have been hung, as on hooks, and manes entangled from want of +care; in a word, a true picture of animal misery. Kohlhaas, to whom +the horses neighed with a slight movement, was indignant in the highest +degree, and asked what had befallen the creatures? The servant +answered, that no particular misfortune had befallen them, but that, as +there had been a want of draught-cattle, they had been used a little in +the fields. Kohlhaas cursed this shameful and preconcerted act of +arbitrary power; but, feeling his own weakness, suppressed his rage, +and, as there was nothing else to be done, prepared to leave the +robber’s nest with his horses, when the castellan, attracted by the +conversation, made his appearance, and asked what was the matter. + +“Matter!” said Kohlhaas, “who allowed Squire Von Tronka and his people +to work in the fields the horses that I left?” He asked if this was +humanity, tried to rouse the exhausted beasts by a stroke with a +switch, and showed him that they could not move. The castellan, after +he had looked at him for awhile, insolently enough said, “Now, there’s +an ill-mannered clown! Why does not the fellow thank his God that his +beasts are still living?” He asked whose business it was to take care +of them when the boy had run away, and whether it was not fair that the +horses should earn in the fields the food that was given them, and +concluded by telling him to cease jabbering, or he would call out the +dogs, and get some quiet that way at any rate. + +The horse-dealer’s heart beat strongly against his waistcoat, he felt +strongly inclined to fling the good-for-nothing mass of fat into the +mud, and set his foot on his brazen countenance. Yet his feeling of +right, which was accurate as a gold balance, still wavered; before the +tribunal of his own heart, he was still uncertain whether his adversary +was in the wrong; and, while pocketing the affronts, he went to his +horses and smoothed down their manes. Silently weighing the +circumstances, he asked, in a subdued voice, on what account the +servant had been sent away from the castle. The castellan answered +that it was because the rascal had been impudent. He had resisted a +necessary change of stables, and had desired that the horses of two +young noblemen, who had come to Tronkenburg, should remain out all +night in the high road. Kohlhaas would have given the value of the +horses to have had the servant by him, and to have compared his +statement with that of the thick-lipped castellan. He stood awhile and +smoothed the tangles out of the manes, bethinking himself what was to +be done in his situation, when suddenly the scene changed, and the +Squire Von Tronka, with a host of knights, servants, and dogs, +returning from a hare-hunt galloped into the castle-court. The +castellan, when the squire asked what had happened, took care to speak +first; and, while the dogs at the sight of the stranger were barking at +him on one side, with the utmost fury, and the knights on the other +side were trying to silence them, he set forth, distorting the matter +as much as possible, the disturbance that the horse-dealer had created, +because his horses had been used a little. Laughing scornfully, he +added that he had refused to acknowledge them as his own. “They are +not my horses, your worship!” cried Kohlhaas; “these are not the horses +that were worth thirty golden crowns! I will have my sound and +well-fed horses.” The squire, whose face became pale for a moment, +alighted and said, “If the rascal will not take his horses, why let him +leave them. Come Gunther, come Hans,” cried he, as he brushed the dust +from his breeches with his hand. “And, ho! wine there!” he called, as +he crossed the threshold with the knights and entered his dwelling. +Kohlhaas said that he would rather send for the knacker and have the +horses knocked on the head, than he would take them in such a condition +to his stable at Kohlhaasenbrück. He left them standing where they +were, without troubling himself further about them, and vowing that he +would have justice, flung himself on his brown horse, and rode off. + +He was just setting off full speed for Dresden, when, at the thought of +the servant, and at the complaint that had been made against him at the +castle, he began to walk slowly, turned his horse’s head before he had +gone a thousand paces, and took the road to Kohlhaasenbrück, that, in +accordance with his notions of prudence and justice, he might first +hear the servant’s account of the matter. For a correct feeling, well +inured to the defective ways of the world, inclined him, in spite of +the affronts he had received, to pass over the loss of his horses, as +an equitable result; if, indeed, as the castellan had maintained, it +could be proved that his servant was in the wrong. On the other hand, +a feeling equally honourable, which gained ground as he rode further, +and heard, wherever he stopped, of the wrongs that travellers had to +endure every day at the Tronkenburg, told him, that if the whole affair +was a concerted scheme--as, indeed, it seemed to be--it was his duty to +use every effort to obtain satisfaction for the affronts he had +endured, and to secure his fellow-citizens for the future. + +As soon as, on his arrival at Kohlhaasenbrück, he had embraced his good +wife Lisbeth, and kissed his children, who sported about his knees, he +inquired after his head servant, Herse, and whether any thing had been +heard of him. + +“Yes, dearest Michael,” said Lisbeth, “and only think--that unfortunate +Herse came here about a fortnight ago, beaten most barbarously--aye, so +beaten, that he could scarcely breathe. We took him to bed, when he +spat a good deal of blood, and, in answer to our repeated questions, +told a story which none of us could understand;--how he was left behind +by you at the Tronkenburg with the horses, which were not allowed to +pass, how he was forced, by the most shameful ill-usage, to leave the +castle, and how he was unable to bring the horses with him.” + +“Indeed!” said Kohlhaas, putting off his mantle, “is he recovered now?” + +“Tolerably,” she answered, “with the exception of the spitting of +blood. I wished immediately to send a servant to the Tronkenburg, to +take care of the horses till you went there, for Herse has always been +so honest, indeed so much more faithful to us than any one else, that I +never thought of doubting a statement supported by so many evident +signs of truth, or of believing that he had lost the horses in any +other way. Yet he entreated me not to counsel any one to show himself +in that robber’s nest, and to give up the horses, if I would not +sacrifice a human being.” + +“Is he still in bed?” asked Kohlhaas, loosening his neckcloth. + +“For the last few days he has gone about in the court,” she +answered--“in short, you will see that all is true enough, and that +this affair is one of the atrocities which the people at the +Tronkenburg have lately perpetrated against strangers.” + +“That I must look into,” said Kohlhaas. “Call him here, Lisbeth, if he +is up.” With these words he sat himself down, while the housewife, who +was pleased to see him so forbearing, went and fetched the servant. + +“What have you been doing at the Tronkenburg?” asked Kohlhaas, as +Lisbeth entered the room with him. “I am not well pleased with you.” +The servant, in whose pale face a spot of red appeared at these words, +was silent for a while, and then said-- + +“You are right, master, for I flung into the Elbe a match, which, by +God’s providence, I had with me, to set on fire the robber’s nest, from +which I was driven, as I heard a child crying within, and thought to +myself--‘God’s lightning may consume it, but I will not.’” + +“But what did you do to be sent away from the Tronkenburg?” said +Kohlhaas, much struck. + +“It was on account of a bad piece of business,” said Herse, wiping the +perspiration from his forehead; “but no matter, ‘what can’t be cured +must be endured.’ I would not allow the horses to be ruined by field +work, and told them they were still young, and had never been used for +drawing.” + +Kohlhaas, endeavouring to conceal the perturbation of his mind, +observed, that Herse had not quite told the truth in this instance, as +the horses had been in harness a little during the preceding spring. +“As you were a kind of guest at the castle, you might have obliged them +once or twice, when they were forced to get in their harvest as quickly +as they could.” + +“So I did, master,” replied Herse, “I thought, as they began to make +wry faces, that it would not cost us the horses, at all events. On the +third morning I put them too, and brought in three loads of corn.” + +Kohlhaas, whose heart swelled, fixed his eyes on the ground, and said, +“They told me nothing of that, Herse.” + +The man, however, assured him that it was so. “My incivility,” he +said, “consisted in this: that I would not allow the horses to be yoked +again, when they had scarcely taken their feed at noon, and that when +the castellan and the bailiff told me to take fodder gratis, and to +pocket the money which had been given me, I gave them a short answer, +turned on my heel, and walked off.” + +“But,” said Kohlhaas, “it was not for this incivility that you were +sent away from the Tronkenburg.” + +“God forbid!” said the man, “it was on account of a rascally piece of +injustice. For in the evening, the horses of two knights, who had come +to the Tronkenburg, were put in the stable, and mine were tied to the +stable-door. And when I took the horses out of the hand of the +castellan, and asked him where they were to be kept, he showed me a +pigsty, built with boards and laths against the castle wall.” + +“You mean,” interrupted Kohlhaas, “that it was such a bad place for +horses, that it was more like a pigsty than a stable.” + +“I mean a pigsty, master,” said Herse, “really and truly a pigsty, +where the pigs ran in and out, and in which I could not stand upright.” + +“Perhaps there was no other place for the horses,” observed Kohlhaas, +“and those of the knights had, in some measure, the preference.” + +“The place,” answered the servant, dropping his voice, “was indeed +narrow. Seven knights in all were stopping at the castle; but if it +had been you--you would have put the horses a little closer together. +I said that I would try to hire a stable in the village, but the +castellan objected that he must have the horses under his own eye, and +that I must not venture to move them from the yard.” + +“Hem!” said Kohlhaas, “what did you do then?” + +“Why, as the bailiff told me that the two guests would only stop over +the night, and would leave the next morning, I led the horses into the +sty. But the next day passed, and nothing of the kind took place; and +when the third came, I heard the visitors would remain at the castle +for some weeks.” + +“Then, in the end,” said Kohlhaas, “it was not so bad in the pigsty, as +it seemed, when first you looked into it.” + +“True,” replied Herse, “when I had swept the place a bit, it was +passable. Then I gave the girl a groschen to put the pigs somewhere +else, and during the day, at least, I managed to let the horses stand +upright, for I took off the boards at the top, when the morning dawned, +and put them on again in the evening. They peeped out of the roof like +so many geese, and looked after Kohlhaasenbrück, or some place at any +rate, where they would be better off.” + +“But now,” said Kohlhaas, “why in the world did they send you away?” + +“Because, master,” replied the man, “they wanted to get rid of me; +because, as long as I was there, they could not ruin the horses. In +the yard, and in the servants’ room, they always made queer faces at +me, and because I thought ‘you may twist your mouths out of joint, if +you like,’ they managed to find a pretext, and turned me out of the +yard.” + +“But the reason,” said Kohlhaas, “they must have had some reason.” + +“Oh, certainly,” replied Herse, “and a very good one too. On the +evening of the second day which I had passed in the sty, I took the +horses, which had become dirty, and was going to ride them out to +water. When I was just at the gate, and was about to turn, I heard the +castellan and the bailiff, with servants, dogs, and sticks, rush upon +me from the servants’ room, and shout out ‘Stop the thief, stop the +hangdog!’ as if they were all possessed. The gate-keeper intercepted +my passage, and when I asked him and the uproarious mob what was the +matter, the castellan, seizing the bridle of the two horses, cried, +‘Matter, indeed! Where are you going with the horses?’ and so saying, +seized me by the collar. Why, where should I be going?’ said I, ‘I am +going to water the horses.’ ‘Oh, to water!’ cried the castellan, ‘I’ll +water you! I’ll teach you to swim on the high road all the way to +Kohlhaasenbrück.’ Upon this, he and the bailiff, who had laid hold of +my leg, flung me treacherously from the horse, so that I lay full +length in the mud. ‘Murder!’ shouted I, ‘There are the harness, and +the horse-cloths, and a bundle of linen belonging to me in the stable.’ +But the castellan and the servants, while the bailiff led off the +horses, belaboured me with whips, and cudgels, and kicks, till I fell +down, half dead, at the gate. And when I said, ‘Where are the thievish +rogues taking the horses?’ and got up, ‘Out of the castle-yard!’ cried +the castellan. ‘Ho, there, Cæsar!--Ho, Touzer!--Ho, Pincher!’ and +straight more than a dozen dogs flew at me. At this I broke a stick or +something from the fence, and lay three of the dogs dead at my feet; +but when, tortured by their fangs, I was forced to give way, ‘Phew!’ +went a pipe--the dogs were in the yard--bang went the gate--the bolt +was drawn, and down in the road I fell, quite exhausted.” + +Kohlhaas, though his face was white, affected a jocose style, and said, +“Now, did not you wish to abscond, Herse?” and when the man, colouring, +looked on the ground, he added, “Now confess, you did not like the +pigsty, you thought the stable in Kohlhaasenbrück much better--did you +not?” “Thunder of Heaven!” exclaimed Herse, “I left the harness and +horse-cloths, and the bundle of linen in the sty. Should I not have +secured the three crowns which I left in the red silk neckerchief, hid +behind the manger? Death and the devil!--When you talk so, you make me +wish to light that match again which I threw away;” “Nay, nay,” said +Kohlhaas, “I did not mean so ill with you, I believe every word you +have spoken, and if there is any talk about it, I will take the +sacrament upon it; I am only sorry that you fared no better in my +service. Go to bed, Herse; go to bed. Take a flask of wine and +comfort yourself--you shall have justice.” He then rose, asked for a +list of the things which the man had left in the sty, specified their +value; asked him the expenses of curing his hurt, and, after shaking +hands with him, let him go. + +He then told his wife, Lisbeth, the whole particulars of the affair; +said that he was resolved to claim public justice, and was pleased to +see that in this design she fully agreed with him. For she said that +many other travellers, probably less forbearing than he, would go by +that castle, that it would be a pious work to stop disorders like +these, and that she would soon collect enough for the expenses of the +suit. Kohlhaas called her a dear woman, passed this and the following +day with her and his children, and, as soon as business allowed, went +to Dresden to make his complaint before the tribunal. + +Then with the help of a lawyer of his acquaintance he drew up a +petition, in which, after a circumstantial statement of the wrong which +the Squire Wenzel von Tronka had done both to him, and his servant +Herse, he claimed that he should be punished according to law, that his +horses should be restored to their former condition, and that +compensation should be awarded for the wrong which he and his servant +had suffered. The case was clear enough, the fact that the horses had +been illegally detained threw a light on all the rest, and even if it +were assumed that they had been injured merely by chance, the claim of +their owner to have them back in a healthy condition, was nevertheless +just. Besides Kohlhaas had plenty of good friends at Dresden, who +promised heartily to support his cause, his extensive trade in horses +had gained him a numerous acquaintance, and the honesty of his dealings +had acquired him the good will of the most important men in the +country. He frequently dined with his advocate, who was himself a man +of consequence, gave him a sum to defray the law expenses, and being +fully satisfied by him as to the issue of the suit, returned, after a +few weeks to his wife at Kohlhaasenbrück. However months passed on, +and the year was nearly at an end, and he had not yet got from Saxony +even a statement concerning his suit, much less the decision itself. +After he had applied to the tribunal several times anew he asked his +legal assistant in a confidential letter, what could be the cause of +this monstrous delay, and learned that his suit had been entirely set +aside in consequence of a high application to the supreme court at +Dresden. In answer to another letter from the horse-dealer, couched in +terms of high dissatisfaction, and asking a reason for all this, the +jurist replied, that the Squire Wenzel von Tronka was related to two +young gentlemen, Herrn Henry and Conrad von Tronka, one of whom was +attached to the lord cup-bearer, while the other was chamberlain. He +advised him, without proceeding further in the suit, to try to get his +horses back from the Tronkenburg, gave him to understand that the +squire, who was now in the capital, had ordered his people to return +them, and finally entreated him, if he would not be satisfied, at +any-rate not to give him (the writer) any further commissions relative +to the matter. + +At this time, Kohlhaas happened to be in Brandenburg, where the +town-governor (_Stadt-hauptmann_) Heinrich von Geusau, to whose +jurisdiction Kohlhaasenbrück belonged, was occupied in founding several +charitable institutions for the poor and sick, a considerable sum, +which had come into the possession of the city, being appropriated for +that purpose. Above all he was endeavouring to convert a mineral +spring, the source of which was in a neighbouring village, and +concerning the virtues of which higher expectations were raised than +were fulfilled by the parties, to the use of invalids, and as Kohlhaas, +in consequence of many transactions he had had with him, during his +sojourn at the court, was well known to him, he allowed the servant +Herse, who had not been able to breathe without a pain in the chest +since the unlucky day at Tronkenburg, to try the little spring, which +was now enclosed and roofed over. Now it chanced that the governor was +standing by the bath, in which Herse was laid by Kohlhaas, to make +certain arrangements, when the horse-dealer received by a messenger, +sent by his wife, the disheartening letter from his advocate at +Dresden. The governor, who while he was talking with the physician, +saw Kohlhaas drop a tear on the letter he had just received and opened, +went up to him in a kind manner, and asked him what misfortune had +happened; and when the horse-dealer, instead of answering, put the +letter in his hand, this worthy man, to whom the abominable wrong, +which had been done at the Tronkenburg, and in consequence of which +Herse lay ill before him, perhaps for life, was well known, slapped him +on the shoulder, and bid him not to be disheartened, as he would aid +him to obtain justice. In the evening, when the horse-dealer, in +compliance with his instructions, called upon him at his castle, he +told him that he need only draw up a petition to the Elector of +Brandenburg, with a short statement of facts, attach to it the +advocate’s letter, and claim seignorial protection on account of the +violence he had suffered in the Saxon territory. He promised to +enclose the petition in a packet, which lay ready at hand, and thus to +put it into the hands of the elector, who would certainly, on his own +account, apply to the Elector of Saxony, as soon as circumstances +permitted. Such a step was all that was wanted to obtain justice from +the tribunal at Dresden, in spite of the tricks of Squire von Tronka +and his adherents. Kohlhaas, highly delighted, thanked the governor +most heartily, for this new proof of kindness, told him he was only +sorry that he had not at once commenced proceedings at Berlin, without +taking any steps at Dresden, and after he had duly prepared the +petition in the secretary’s office, and had handed it over to the +governor, he returned to Kohlhaasenbrück better satisfied than ever as +to the prospects of the affair. In a few weeks, however, he had the +mortification of learning, through a judge, who was going to Potsdam, +about some affairs of the governor, that the elector had handed over +the petition to his chancellor, Count Kallheim, and that the latter, +instead of going immediately to the court at Dresden to examine the +matter and inflict punishment, as seemed to be his duty, had first +applied for information to Squire von Tronka himself. The judge,[3] +who stopped in his carriage before Kohlhaas’s door, and who seemed to +have been expressly commissioned to make this communication, could give +no satisfactory answer to the question of his surprise: “But why did +they act in this way?” he merely said, that the governor had sent word, +begging him to be patient, appeared anxious to pursue his journey, and +it was not till the end of a short conversation, that Kohlhaas learned +by a few stray words, that Count Kallheim was related by marriage to +the von Tronka’s. Kohlhaas, who no longer took any delight in +attending his horses, or in his house and farm--scarcely in his wife +and children--waited the arrival of the following month with the +gloomiest misgivings, and it was quite in accordance with his +expectations, that when the interval was passed, Herse, who had been in +some measure relieved by the bath, returned from Brandenburg with a +letter from the governor, accompanying a paper of larger dimensions. +The letter was to the effect that the writer was sorry he could do +nothing for him, but that he sent him a decree of the chancery, and +advised him to take away the horses, which he had left at Tronkenburg, +and let the whole matter drop. According to the decree, “he was a +vexatious litigant, on the information of the tribunal at Dresden; the +squire with whom he had left the horses did nothing to detain them; he +might send to the castle and fetch them, or at any rate let the squire +know where he was to send them, and at all events he was to abstain +from troubling the court with such wranglings.” Kohlhaas, to whom the +horses were not the chief object--had it been a couple of dogs he would +have been equally mortified--literally foamed with rage when he had +received this letter. Whenever there was a noise in his farm, he +looked with the sickening sensation which had even stirred his heart +towards the gate, expecting to see the squire’s servants, with his +horses starved and worn out; this was the only case in which his mind, +otherwise well-trained by the world, could find nothing that exactly +corresponded with his feelings. Shortly afterwards he learned by means +of an acquaintance, who had travelled that way, that the horses were +still used with the squire’s at Tronkenburg for field labour, and in +the midst of his pain at seeing the world in such a state of disorder, +there arose a feeling of inner contentment as he found there was at +least something like order in his own heart. He invited the +proprietor[4] of the neighbouring lands, who had long entertained the +notion of increasing his possessions by purchasing the pieces of ground +adjoining, and asked him, when he had taken a seat, what he would give +him for his estates in Brandenburg and Saxony, taking house and farm +all in the lump, with or without fixtures. His wife Lisbeth turned +pale as she heard these words. Turning round she took up the youngest +child, who was sporting on the floor behind her, and darted at the +horse-dealer, and a paper which he held in his hand, glances, in which +doubt was depicted, and which passed across the red cheeks of the boy, +who was playing with the ribbons on her neck. The farmer, who observed +his confused manner, asked him what had put so strange a thought all at +once into his head. Kohlhaas, with as much cheerfulness as he could +assume, replied that the notion of selling his farm on the banks of the +Havel was not quite new, that they had both often discussed this matter +already, that his house in the suburbs of Dresden was comparatively a +mere appendage, not to be considered, and finally that if he would +comply with his offer and take both estates, he was quite ready to +conclude the contract. He added, with a kind of forced levity, that +Kohlhaasenbrück was not the world; that there might be purposes, in +comparison with which that of presiding over one’s household, like an +orderly father, was trivial and subordinate, and that in short his +mind, as he was bound to say, was set upon great matters, of which +perhaps the farmer would soon hear. The farmer satisfied with this +explanation, said merrily to the wife, who kissed her child again and +again: “He won’t want immediate payment, will he?” and then laying upon +the table the hat and stick he had hitherto carried between his knees, +he took the paper which Kohlhaas had in his hand to read it. Kohlhaas +moving closer to him, explained that this was a conditional contract +which he had drawn up, and which would become absolute in four weeks; +showed that nothing was required but the signatures and the filling in +of the two sums, namely, the purchase-money and the price of +redemption, in case he should return within the four weeks, and again +asked him in a cheerful tone to make an offer, assuring him that he +would be reasonable, and would not hesitate about trifles. The wife +walked up and down in the room, her heart palpitating to such a degree +that her handkerchief, at which the child was pulling, seemed ready to +fall from her shoulders. The farmer said that he had no means of +estimating the value of the Dresden property, whereupon Kohlhaas, +pushing to him the documents that had been exchanged when he had +purchased it, replied that he valued it at one hundred gold crowns, +although it appeared clearly enough from the documents themselves, that +it cost him almost half as much again. The farmer, who read the +contract over once more, and found that on his side also the liberty of +retracting was specially provided, said, already half determined, that +he could not make use of the stud that was in the stables; but when +Kohlhaas replied that he did not wish to part with the horses, and that +he also wished to keep some weapons that hung in the gun-room, he +hemmed and hesitated for a while, and at last repeated an offer which, +half in jest, half in earnest, he had made in the course of a walk, and +which was as nothing compared to the value of the property. Kohlhaas +pushed pen and ink towards him that he might write, and when the +farmer, who could not trust his senses, asked the horse-dealer if he +was really serious, and the horse-dealer somewhat sharply asked the +farmer if he thought he could be in jest, the latter, with a somewhat +scrupulous countenance, took up the pen and wrote. He struck out the +part relating to the sum to be paid, in case the vendor should repent +his bargain, bound himself to a loan of one hundred crowns on the +security of the Dresden property, which he would on no account consent +to purchase, and left Kohlhaas full liberty to recede from his contract +within two months. The horse-dealer, touched by this handsome conduct, +shook the farmer’s hand very heartily, and after they had agreed on the +chief condition, which was that a fourth of the purchase-money should +be paid in cash down, and the rest at the Hamburg bank three months +afterwards, he called for wine, that they might make merry over a +bargain so happily concluded. He told the servant-maid, who entered +with bottles, that his man Sternbald was to saddle the chesnut horse, +saying that he must ride to the city, where he had business to +transact, and hinting that when he returned he would speak more openly +about that which he must now keep secret. Then filling the glasses he +asked about the Poles and the Turks, who were then at war with each +other, entangled the farmer into all sorts of political conjectures on +the subject, and finally took a parting glass to the success of their +bargain, and dismissed him. + +No sooner had the farmer left the room, than Lisbeth fell on her knees +before her husband. “If,” she cried, “you still retain any feeling for +me, and for the children which I bore you; if we are not already cast +off--for what cause I know not--tell me what is the meaning of these +frightful preparations?” + +“Nothing, dearest wife, that can trouble you, as matters stand,” +answered Kohlhaas. “I have received a decree, in which I am told that +my proceeding against Squire von Tronka is mere vexatious wrangling; +and because there must be some misunderstanding in this matter, I have +determined to commence my suit once more, personally, with the +sovereign of the country himself.” + +“But why sell your house?” she exclaimed, as she rose from the ground +in confusion. + +The horse-dealer, gently embracing her, replied: “Because, dearest +Lisbeth, I will not abide in a country in which my rights are not +protected. If I am to be trampled under foot, I would rather be a dog +than a man. I am certain that, on this point, my wife thinks with me.” + +“But how do you know,” she asked, wildly, “that they will not protect +you in your rights? If you approach our sovereign as modestly as you +ought, with your petition, how do you know that it will be cast aside, +or answered with a refusal to hear you?” + +“Well then,” answered Kohlhaas, “if my fear turns out to be groundless, +my house, at any rate, is yet unsold. Our sovereign himself, I know, +is just; and if I can succeed in approaching his person, through the +people who surround him, I have no doubt I can obtain my rights, and +before the week has passed, can return gladly to you and my old +business back again. May I then,” he added, as he kissed her, “remain +with you till the end of my life! However,” he continued, “it is +advisable that I should be prepared for every event, and hence I wish +you to leave this place for a time, if possible, and to go, with your +children, to your aunt at Schwerin, whom you have been long anxious to +visit?” + +“How,” cried the wife. “I go to Schwerin?--I cross the border with my +children, to go to my aunt at Schwerin?” And her voice was stifled +with horror. + +“Certainly,” replied Kohlhaas, “and, if possible, immediately, that I +may not be impeded in the steps I am about to take in this matter.” + +“Oh, I understand you,” she exclaimed. “You want nothing but weapons +and horses; the rest any one may take who will.” And so saying, she +threw herself down upon a seat and wept. + +Kohlhaas, much perplexed, said: “Dearest Lisbeth, what are you doing? +God has blessed me with wife, children, and property; shall I wish, for +the first time, that it was otherwise?” And he sat down by her in a +kindly mood, while she, at these words, fell blushing on his neck. +“Tell me,” he said, moving the curls from her forehead, “what I am to +do? Shall I give up my cause? Shall I go to Tronkenburg, and ask the +knight for my horses, mount them, and then ride home to you?” + +Lisbeth did not venture to answer “Yes;” she shook her head, weeping, +clasped him fervently, and covered his breast with burning kisses. + +“Good!” cried Kohlhaas. “Then, if you feel that I must have justice, +if I am to carry on my business, grant me the liberty which is +necessary to attain it.” Upon this he rose up, and said to the +servant, who told him that his chestnut horse was saddled, that the +horses must be put in harness the following day, to take his wife to +Schwerin. Suddenly Lisbeth saying that a thought had struck her, +raised herself, wiped the tears from her eyes, and asked him, as he sat +down at a desk, whether he could not give her the petition, and let her +go to Dresden instead of him, to present it to the sovereign. + +Kohlhaas, struck by this sudden turn, for more reasons than one, drew +her to him, and said: “Dearest wife, that is impossible! The sovereign +is surrounded by many obstacles, and to many annoyances is the person +exposed who ventures to approach him.” + +Lisbeth replied that the approach would be a thousand times easier for +a woman than for a man. “Give me the petition,” she repeated; “and if +you wish nothing more than to know that it is in his hands, I will +vouch for it.” + +Kohlhaas, who had frequently known instances of her courage as well as +of her prudence, asked her how she intended to set about it. Upon +which she told him, hanging down her head abashed, that the castellan +of the electoral castle had formerly courted her, when she served at +Schwerin; that it was true he was now married, and had many children, +but that she might still not be quite forgotten--in short, she asked +him leave to take advantage of this and other circumstances, which it +would be superfluous to name. Kohlhaas kissed her right joyously, told +her that he accepted her proposition, and that nothing more was wanted +than for her to stay with the castellan’s wife, to secure an interview +with the sovereign, gave her the petition, had the brown horses +harnessed, and sent her off, safely stowed under the care of his +faithful servant, Sternbald. + +Of all the unsuccessful steps which he had taken in the affair this +journey proved the most unlucky. For, in a few days, Sternbald +returned to the farm, leading slowly along the vehicle in which Lisbeth +lay stretched, with a dangerous bruise on her breast. Kohlhaas, who +approached it pale and terrified, could learn nothing connected as to +the cause of this calamity. The castellan, according to the servant’s +account, had not been at home, they had, therefore, been obliged to put +up at an inn in the vicinity of the castle; this inn Lisbeth had left +on the following morning, and had told the man to remain with the +horses; it was not till the evening that she returned, in the condition +in which she was seen. It appeared that she had pressed forward too +boldly towards the sovereign, and that, without any fault on his part, +she had received a blow on the breast, from the shaft of a lance, +through the rude zeal of one of the guards who surrounded him. At +least so said the people who, in the evening, brought her to the inn in +a state of insensibility, for she herself could speak but little, being +prevented by the blood that flowed from her mouth. The petition was +afterwards taken from her by a knight. Sternbald said that he had +wished immediately to set out on horseback and inform his master of the +misfortune that had happened, but that, in spite of all the +representations of the surgeon who had been called, she had insisted on +being conveyed to her husband at Kohlhaasenbrück. The journey had +quite exhausted her, and Kohlhaas put her in a bed, where she laid some +days striving with difficulty to draw her breath. Vain were all +endeavours to restore her to consciousness, that she might throw some +light on the events; she lay with her eyes fixed, and already glazed, +and returned no answer. Only once, just before her death did she +recover her senses. For, as a minister of the Lutheran religion (to +which newly springing faith she had attached herself, through the +example of her husband) was standing at her bed-side, and with a loud +and solemn voice was reading to her a chapter out of the bible, she +looked at him suddenly, with a dark expression, took the bible out of +his hand, as if there were nothing in it to be read to her, turned the +leaves over and over, as if she were looking for something, and at last +pointed out to Kohlhaas, who sat by the bed, the verse: “Forgive thine +enemies--do good unto them that hate thee!” She then pressed his hand, +with a most significant glance, and expired. “May God never forgive me +as I forgive the squire,” thought Kohlhaas--and he kissed her, while +his tears were flowing fast, closed her eyes and rushed out of the +room. The hundred golden crowns, which the farmer had already advanced +him on the Dresden stables he took, and bespoke a funeral which seemed +less fitted for Lisbeth than for a princess. The coffin was of oak, +strongly cased with metal, the cushions were of silk with gold and +silver tassels, and the grave, which was eight ells deep, was lined +with stones and lime. He himself, with his youngest child in his arms, +stood by the grave, and watched the progress of the work. When the day +of burial came the corpse was laid out, as white as snow, in a room, +which he had lined with black cloth. The minister had just finished a +touching discourse by the bier, when the sovereign’s decree in answer +to the petition, which the deceased had presented, was put in the hands +of Kohlhaas. The purport was, that he should fetch the horses from the +Tronkenburg, and make no further applications in this matter under pain +of imprisonment. Kohlhaas put up the letter, and ordered the coffin to +be placed on the bier. As soon as the mound was raised, the cross was +set upon it, and the guests, who had assisted at the funeral had been +dismissed, he threw himself down once more before his wife’s deserted +bed, and then commenced the work of revenge. Taking a seat, he drew up +a decree, in which, by virtue of his innate power, he condemned the +Squire Wenzel von Tronka, within three days after the sight thereof, to +bring back to Kohlhaasenbrück the horses which he had taken, and which +he had spoiled by field-work, and to feed them in person in his stables +until they were restored to their good condition. This paper he +conveyed by a messenger on horseback, whom he instructed to return to +Kohlhaasenbrück immediately after he had delivered it. The three days +having passed and no horses having been delivered, he called Herse to +him, informed him of the notice he had given to the squire concerning +the feeding, and asked him which of two things he would do: whether he +would go with him to the Tronkenburg and fetch the squire, or whether, +when he was brought him, he would hold the whip over him, in case he +should prove lazy in obeying the decree in the Kohlhaasenbrück stables. +Herse shouted out, “Let us begin to-day, master,” and flinging his cap +into the air swore that he would have a thong twisted into ten knots to +teach the art of currying. Kohlhaas sold his house, sent his children +in a vehicle over the border, called, in addition to Herse, the rest of +his servants, seven in number, and all as true as steel, at the +approach of night, armed them, mounted them, and set off for the +Tronkenburg. + +The third night was advancing, when with his little band, riding over +the toll-taker and the gate-keeper, who stood conversing by the gate, +he fell upon the Tronkenburg. While, amid the crackling of the +outbuildings, which the men set on fire, Herse flew up the winding +staircase to the castellan’s tower, and cut and thrust at the castellan +and the bailiff, who were at play, half undressed. Kohlhaas rushed +into the castle to find Squire Wenzel. So does the angel of judgment +descend from Heaven, and the squire, who, amid peals of laughter, was +reading to a party of young friends, the decree, which the horse-dealer +had sent him, no sooner heard his voice in the yard, than he cried to +the rest, pale as death, “Save yourselves, brothers!” and vanished +immediately. Kohlhaas, who, on entering the hall, seized by the breast +and flung into the corner, one Squire Hans von Tronka, who was +advancing towards him, so that his brains were scattered on the stones, +asked, while his servants overpowered and dispersed the other knights, +who had taken up their weapons: “Where is Squire von Tronka?” And +when, as the astounded knights professed their ignorance, he had, with +a blow of his foot, burst open the doors of two rooms, which led into +the wings of the castle, and after searching the spacious building in +all directions, still found nobody, he went, cursing down into the +yard, that he might guard every egress. In the meanwhile, ignited by +the flames of the outbuildings, the castle itself, with all its wings, +took fire, and threw volumes of black smoke to the skies, and while +Sternbald, with three active fellows, dragged together all they could +lay hold of, and flung it upon their horses as lawful prize, the dead +bodies of the castellan and the bailiff, with their wives and children, +flew out of the upper window, accompanied by the shouts of Herse. +Kohlhaas, at whose feet, as he descended the stairs, the squire’s gouty +old housekeeper threw herself, asked her, as he paused on one of the +steps: “Where is Squire von Tronka?” When, with a weak trembling +voice, she answered, that she thought he had fled to the chapel; he +called for two servants with torches, broke open an entrance with +crow-bars and hatchets, for want of a key, and turned upside down the +altars and benches. Still no squire was found, to the great grief of +Kohlhaas. It happened, just as he was leaving the chapel, that a +boy--one of the servants at the Tronkenburg--hurried by to take the +squire’s coursers out of a large stone stall, that was threatened by +the flames. Kohlhaas, who at this moment saw his own two black horses +in a little thatched shed, asked the boy, why he did not save _them_, +and when the latter, as he put the key in the stable-door, answered +that the shed was already in flames, he tore the key out of the door, +flung it over the wall, and driving the boy with a shower of blows from +the flat of his sword, into the blazing shed, compelled him to save the +horses amid the frightful laughter of the bystanders. When, in a few +moments, the boy, pale as death, came with the horses out of the shed +that fell behind him, Kohlhaas was no longer there, and when he joined +the servants in the yard, and then asked the horse-dealer what he was +to do with the animals, Kohlhaas raised his foot with such violence, +that it would have been fatal had it reached him, leaped upon his brown +horse without giving any answer, went under the castle-gate, and while +his men carried on their work, quietly awaited the dawn of day. When +morning broke, the whole castle was burned, with the exception of the +bare walls, and no one was on the spot but Kohlhaas and his men. He +alighted from his horse once more in the bright rays of the sun, +searched every corner of the place, and when, hard as it was to be +convinced, he saw that his enterprise at the castle had failed, his +heart swelling with grief and pain, he sent out Herse with some of the +others to obtain intelligence about the direction which the squire had +taken in flight. A rich convent, called Erlabrunn, which was situated +on the banks of the Mulde, and the abbess of which, Antonia von Tronka, +was well known on the spot as a pious and benevolent lady, rendered him +particularly uneasy, for it seemed to him but too probable that the +squire, deprived as he was of every necessary of life, had taken refuge +in this asylum, since the abbess was his aunt, and had educated him in +his earliest years. Kohlhaas being informed of this circumstance, +ascended the castellan’s tower, within which he found a room that was +still habitable, and prepared what he called “Kohlhaasisch Mandate,” in +which he desired the whole country to give no assistance whatever to +Squire von Tronka, with whom he was engaged in lawful war, and bound +every inhabitant, not excepting his friends and relations, to deliver +up to him the aforesaid squire, under the penalty of life and limb, and +conflagration of all that could be called property. This declaration +he distributed through the country round, by means of travellers and +strangers. To his servant, Waldmann, he gave a copy with the special +charge that it was to be put into the hands of the Lady Antonia at +Erlabrunn. He afterwards gained over some of the Tronkenburg servants, +who were discontented with the squire, and tempted by the prospect of +booty, wished to enter his service. These he armed after the fashion +of infantry with daggers and cross-bars, teaching them to sit behind +the servants on horseback. After having turned into money all that the +troops had raked together, and divided the money among them, he rested +from his sad occupation for some hours, under the gate of the castle. + +Herse returned about noon, and confirmed the gloomy suspicions, which +he had already felt in his heart, namely, that the squire was in the +convent at Erlabrunn, with his aunt, the lady Antonia von Tronka. He +had, it appeared, slipped through a door at the back of the castle, +which led into the open air, and gone down a narrow flight of stone +steps, which, under a little roof, went down to some boats in the Elbe. +At least Herse told him that about midnight he reached a village on the +Elbe in a boat without a rudder, to the astonishment of the people, who +were collected together on account of the fire at the Tronkenburg, and +that he had proceeded to Erlabrunn in a waggon. Kohlhaas sighed deeply +at this intelligence; he asked whether the horses had had their feed, +and when his men answered in the affirmative, he ordered the whole +troop to mount, and in three hours was before Erlabrunn. While a +distant storm was murmuring in the horizon, he entered the convent yard +with his band, lighted by torches, which he had kindled before the +place. The servant, Waldmann, who met him, told him that he had given +the copy of the mandate, when he saw the abbess and the beadle of the +convent talking in an agitated manner beneath the portal. The latter, +a little old man, with hair as white as snow, darting fierce glances at +Kohlhaas, ordered his armour to be put on, and with a bold voice told +the servants who stood round him to ring the alarm bell, while the +abbess with a silver crucifix in her hand, descended, white as her own +garment, from the landing-place, and with all her maidens, threw +herself before Kohlhaas’s horses. Kohlhaas, himself, while Herse and +Sternbald overcame the beadle, who had no sword, and were leading him +off away to the horses as a prisoner, asked her: “Where is Squire von +Tronka?” When, drawing from her girdle a large bunch of keys, she +answered: “At Wittenberg, worthy man,” and in a trembling voice, added: +“Fear God, and do no wrong,” the horse-dealer, cast back into the hell +of disappointed revenge, turned about his horse, and was on the point +of shouting out: “Set alight!” when a monstrous thunder-bolt fell to +the earth at his feet. Kohlhaas, again turning his horse to her, asked +if she had received his mandate, and when with a weak and scarcely +audible voice, she said: “Only just now, about two hours after my +nephew had departed,”--and Waldmann, on whom Kohlhaas cast suspicious +glances, stammered out a confirmation of the statement, saying, that +the water of the Mulde had been swelled by the rain, and had hindered +him from arriving sooner, he collected himself. A sudden fall of rain, +which extinguished the torches, and rattled on the stones, seemed to +ease the anguish of his wretched heart; he once more turned round, +touching his hat to the lady, and crying out: “Brothers, follow +me,--the Squire is in Wittenberg,” clapped spurs to his horse and left +the convent. + +At nightfall he put up at an inn on the road, where he had to rest a +day on account of the great fatigue of his horses, and as he plainly +saw, that with a troop of ten men (such was his force now), he could +not attack a place like Wittenberg, he drew up a second mandate, in +which, after strictly narrating what had happened to him, he called, to +use his own words, “Upon every good Christian to espouse his cause +against Squire von Tronka, the common enemy of all Christians, with the +promise of a sum of money down, and other advantages of war.” In a +third mandate he called himself a “Sovereign, free from the empire and +the world, subject to God alone;” a morbid and disgusting piece of +fanaticism, which nevertheless accompanied as it was with the chink of +money and the hope of prey, procured an accession to his numbers from +the rabble, whom the peace with Poland had deprived of a livelihood. +Indeed his band amounted to upwards of thirty, when he turned back to +the left bank of the Elbe to lay Wittenberg in ashes. With his men and +horses he took shelter under the roof of an old ruined shed in the +depth of a gloomy wood, that in those days surrounded the place, and he +no sooner learned from Sternbald, that the mandate, with which he had +sent him into the town disguised, had been made known, than he set off +with his band--it was Whitsun eve,--and while the inhabitants lay fast +asleep, set a-light to the place at many corners. He then, with his +men, plundered the suburbs, affixed a paper to the door-post of a +church, in which he said that “He, Kohlhaas, had set the city on fire, +and that if the squire was not given up to him, he would lay it in +ashes in such sort, that he would not have to look behind a wall to +find him.” The terror of the inhabitants at this unparalleled atrocity +was indescribable, and the flames, which in a particularly calm +summer’s night, had not consumed more than nineteen houses, including a +church, being extinguished in some measure about day-break, the old +governor (Landvoigt), Otto von Gorgas, sent out a company of about +fifty men, to capture the fearful invader. The captain of this +company, whose name was Gerstenberg, managed so badly, that the +expedition, instead of defeating Kohlhaas, rather helped him to a very +dangerous military reputation; for while he separated his men into +several divisions, that he might, as he thought, surround and curb +Kohlhaas, he was attacked by the latter, who kept his men close +together at the different isolated points, and was so beaten, that on +the evening of the following day, not a single man of the whole band +was left to face the aggressor, although on that band rested all the +hopes of the country. Kohlhaas, who had lost none of his own men in +the encounter, fired the town anew on the following morning, and his +criminal plans were so well laid that a number of houses, and nearly +all the barns of the suburbs were reduced to ashes. He then again +posted up his decree, and that in the corners of the town-house, adding +an account of the fate of Captain von Gerstenberg, whom the governor +had sent out against him, and whom he had demolished. The governor, +greatly enraged at this defiance, placed himself with several knights +at the head of a band of a hundred and fifty men. To Squire von +Tronka, who had sent him a written petition, he gave a guard, to +protect him from the violence of the people, who wished him to be +turned out of the city without more ado, and after he had posted guards +in all the villages around, and also had garrisoned the walls of the +city to defend it from a surprise, he set out on St. Gervas’s day, to +capture the dragon that was thus laying waste the country. The +horse-dealer was cunning enough to avoid this troop, and after he had, +by his clever retreats, lured away the governor five miles from the +city, and had made him believe by various preparations that if pressed +by numbers he would throw himself into the Brandenburg territory, he +suddenly faced about at the approach of the third night, and galloping +back to Wittenberg for the third time to set it on fire. This +frightful act of audacity was achieved by Herse, who had entered the +city disguised, and the conflagration, through the action of a sharp +north wind was so destructive, and extended its ravages so far that in +less than three hours, two-and-forty houses, two churches, several +schools and convents, and the governor’s residence were levelled with +the ground. The governor, who believed that his adversary was in +Brandenburg, at break of day, found the city in a general uproar, when +having been informed of what had passed, he returned by forced marches. +The people had assembled by thousands before the house of Squire von +Tronka, which was fortified with boards and palisades, and with the +voices of maniacs were demanding that he should be sent out of the +city. In vain did two burgomasters, named Jenkens and Otto, who +appeared at the head of the whole magistracy, clad in robes of office, +show the necessity of waiting for the return of a courier who had been +sent to the chancery to ask permission to send the squire to Dresden, +whither he himself, for many reasons, wished to be removed; the mob, +deaf to reason, and armed with pikes and staves would hear nothing, and +they not only ill-used some members of the council, who were urging too +severe measures, but they were on the point of tearing down the +squire’s house, when the governor, Otto von Gorgas, appeared in the +city at the head of his troop of horse. This venerable nobleman, whose +presence alone had usually awed the people to respect and obedience, +had succeeded in capturing three stragglers from the incendiary’s band +at the very gates of the city, as if by way of compensation for the +failure of his enterprise; and as, while these fellows were loaded with +chains in sight of the people, he assured the magistrates, in a +seasonable address, that he thought he was in a fair way to capture +Kohlhaas himself, and in a short time to bring him in, also enchained, +he succeeded in disarming the rage of the assembled multitude, and in +appeasing them, in some measure, as to the squire’s remaining among +them, till the return of the courier from Dresden. He alighted from +horseback, and with some of his knights, the palisades being removed, +he entered the house, where he found the squire, who was continually +fainting, in the hands of two physicians, who, by the aid of essences +and stimulants, were endeavouring to restore him to consciousness. +Herr Otto von Gorgas, feeling that this was not the moment to bandy +words with the squire about his bad conduct, merely told him, with a +look of silent contempt, to dress himself, and for his own security, to +follow him to apartments in the prison. When they had put him on a +doublet, and set a helmet on his head, and he appeared in the street +with his breast half open for want of air, leaning on the arm of the +governor and his brother-in-law, Count von Gerschau, the most frightful +imprecations ascended to the skies. The mob, kept back with difficulty +by the soldiers, called him a blood-sucker, a miserable pest to the +country, the curse of the city of Wittenberg, and the destruction of +Saxony. After a melancholy procession through the ruins, during which +the squire often let the helmet drop from his head without missing it, +and a knight as often set it on again from behind him, he reached the +prison, and vanished into a town under the protection of a strong +guard. In the meanwhile, the city was thrown into new alarm by the +return of the courier with the electoral decree. For the government, +having listened to the applications of the citizens of Dresden, would +not hear of the squire taking up his abode in this the chief city, till +the incendiary was conquered; but charged the governor to protect him, +wherever he might be, and remember he must be content with such forces +as he had. He, however, informed the good city of Wittenberg, to allay +uneasiness, that a troop of five hundred strong, under the command of +Prince Frederic, of Misnia, was advancing to protect it from further +molestations by Kohlhaas. The governor plainly saw that a decree of +this kind would by no means satisfy the people, since not only had the +many little advantages which the horse-dealer had gained at different +points before the city, caused most alarming reports to be spread as to +his increase of strength, but the war which he carried on in the +darkness of night, with pitch, straw, and brimstone, aided by a rabble +in disguise, might, unexampled as it was, completely frustrate a +greater protective force than that which was coming with the Prince of +Misnia. Therefore, after a short reflection, the governor resolved to +suppress the decree. He merely posted up against the corners of the +city, a letter, in which the Prince of Misnia announced his arrival. A +covered cart, which left the prison-yard at break of day, accompanied +by four guards on horse-back, heavily armed, passed along the street to +Leipzig, the guards causing it to be vaguely reported that it was going +to the Pleissenburg. The people being thus appeased as to the +ill-fated squire, to whose presence fire and sword were bound, the +governor himself set off with a troop of three hundred men, to join +Prince Frederic of Misnia. In the meanwhile, Kohlhaas, by the singular +position he had taken in the world, had increased his force to a +hundred and ten persons; and as he had procured a good store of arms at +Jessen, and had armed his band in the most perfect manner, he was no +sooner informed of the double storm, than he resolved to meet it with +all possible speed, before it should break over him. Therefore, on the +following night he attacked the Prince of Misnia, by Mühlberg, in which +encounter, to his great grief, he lost Herse, who fell by his side on +the first fire. However, enraged at this loss, he so defeated the +prince, who was unable to collect his force together, in a three hours +contest, that at break of day, on account of several wounds, and +likewise of the total disorder of his men, he was forced to retreat to +Dresden. Emboldened by this advantage Kohlhaas turned back upon the +governor, before he could have received intelligence of the event, fell +upon him in an open field near the village of Damerow in broad +daylight, and fought with fury till nightfall, suffering terrible loss, +but still with equal advantage. The next morning unquestionably, with +the remainder of his force, he would have again attacked the governor, +who had thrown himself into the church-yard at Damerow, if the latter +had not been informed of the prince’s defeat by Mühlberg, and therefore +held it advisable once more to return to Wittenberg, and await a better +opportunity. Five days after the dispersion of these two forces, +Kohlhaas was before Leipzig, and fired the city on three sides. In the +mandate which he distributed on this occasion he called himself, +“Vicegerent of Michael the Archangel who had come to avenge, with fire +and sword, the villany into which the whole world had fallen, on all +who had taken the squire’s part in this struggle.” At the same time +from the Lützen Castle, of which he had taken possession, and in which +he had established himself, he called upon the people to join him, and +bring about a better order of things. The mandate was signed, as if by +a sort of madness: “Given at the suit of our provisional +world-government,--the Castle of Lützen.” Fortunately for the +inhabitants of Leipzig, the fire did not catch on account of the +continual rain, and moreover the means of extinguishing being used with +great promptness, only a few shops about the Pleissenburg burst into +flames. Nevertheless the alarm of the city at the presence of the +violent incendiary, and his notion that the squire was at Leipzig, was +indescribable; and when a body of a hundred and eighty troopers, who +had been sent out against him, returned to the city in confusion, the +magistracy, who did not wish to endanger the property of the place, had +no other course left them but to close the gates, and set the citizens +to watch day and night outside the walls. In vain did they post up +declarations in the surrounding villages, that the squire was not in +the Pleissenburg; the horse-dealer in similar papers affirmed the +contrary, and declared that even if the squire was not in the +Pleissenburg, he would nevertheless proceed just in the same manner, +until they informed him where he actually was. The elector, instructed +by a courier of the peril in which the city of Leipzig stood, stated +that he was collecting a force of two thousand men, and that he would +put himself at the head of it, to capture Kohlhaas. He severely +reproved Otto von Gorgas for the indiscreet stratagem he had employed +to remove the incendiary from the neighbourhood of Wittenberg, and no +one can describe the alarm which arose in Saxony in general, and in the +capital in particular, when the inhabitants learned that an unknown +hand had posted up in the villages near Leipzig, a declaration that +Squire Wenzel was with his armies at Dresden. + +Under these circumstances, Dr. Martin Luther, supported by the +authority which he owed to his position in the world, took upon himself +by the force of words to call back Kohlhaas into the path of order, and +trusting to a suitable element in the heart of the incendiary, caused a +placard, worded as follows, to be set up in all the towns and villages +of the electorate: + + +“Kohlhaas--thou who pretendest that thou art deputed to wield the sword +of justice, what art thou doing, presumptuous one, in the madness of +thy blind passion, thou who art filled with injustice from the crown of +thy head to the sole of thy foot? Because thy sovereign, whose subject +thou art, hath refused thee justice, dost thou arise in godless man, +the cause of worldly good, with fire and sword, and break in like the +wolf of the desert upon the peaceful community that he protecteth. +Thou, who misleadest mankind by a declaration full of untruth and +craftiness, dost thou believe, sinner that thou art, the same pretext +will avail thee before God on that day when the recesses of every heart +shall be revealed? How canst thou say that justice hath been +denied--thou, whose savage heart, excited by an evil spirit of +self-revenge, entirely gave up the trouble of seeking it after the +failure of thy first trivial endeavours? Is a bench of beadles and +tipstaffs, who intercept letters, or keep to themselves the knowledge +they should communicate, the power that ruleth? Must I tell thee, +impious man, that thy ruler knoweth nothing of thy affair? What do I +say? Why that the sovereign against whom thou rebellest doth not even +know thy name, and that when thou appearest before the throne of God, +thinking to accuse him, he with a serene countenance will say: ‘Lord to +this man did I no wrong, for his existence is strange unto my soul.’ +Know that the sword that thou bearest is the sword of robbery and +murder; thou art a rebel and no warrior of the just God. Thine end +upon earth is the wheel and the gallows, and thine end hereafter is +that condemnation which threateneth the worker of evil and impiety. + +“Wittenberg. + “MARTIN LUTHER.” + + +In the Castle of Lützen Kohlhaas was meditating, in his diseased mind, +a new plan for reducing Leipzig to ashes, paying no attention to the +notice set up in the villages, that Squire Wenzel was in Dresden, +because it had no signature, though he had required one of the +magistrates; when Sternbald and Waldmann perceived with the greatest +astonishment the placard that had been set up by night against the +gateway of the castle. In vain did they hope for many days that +Kohlhaas, whom they did not wish to approach for the purpose, would see +it. Gloomy and brooding in his own thoughts, he merely appeared in the +evening to give a few short commands, and saw nothing, and hence one +morning, when he was about to hang up two of his men, who had been +plundering in the neighbourhood against his will, they resolved to +attract his attention. He was returning from the place of judgment, +with the pomp to which he had accustomed himself since his last +mandate, while the people timidly made way on both sides. A large +cherub-sword on a red leather cushion, adorned with gold tassels was +carried before him, and twelve servants followed him with burning +torches. The two men, with their swords under their arms, walked round +the pillar to which the placard was attached, so as to awaken his +surprise. Kohlhaas, as with his hands locked behind him, and sunk deep +in thought, he came under the portal, raised his eyes and started; and +as the men timidly retired from his glance, witnessing the confusion, +he approached the pillar with hurried steps. But who shall describe +the state of his mind, when he saw upon it the paper which accused him +of injustice, signed with the dearest and most revered name that he +knew--the name of Martin Luther? A deep red overspread his face; +taking off his helmet he read it twice from beginning to end; then with +uncertain looks stepped back among his men as if about to say +something, and yet said nothing; then took the paper from the wall, +read it once more, and cried as he disappeared: “Waldmann get my horses +saddled, Sternbald follow me into the castle!” More than these few +words was not wanted to disarm him at once among all his purposes of +distinction. + +He put on the disguise of a Thuringian farmer, told Sternbald that +business of importance called him to Wittenberg, entrusted him, in the +presence of some of his principal men, with the command of the band +left at Lützen, and promising to return in three days, within which +time no attack was to be feared, set off to Wittenberg at once. + +He put up at an inn under a feigned name, and at the approach of night, +wrapped in his mantle, and provided with a brace of pistols which he +had seized at the Tronkenburg, walked into Luther’s apartment. Luther +was sitting at his desk, occupied with his books and papers, and as +soon as he saw the remarkable looking stranger open the door, and then +bolt it behind him, he asked who he was and what he wanted. The man, +reverentially holding his hat in his hand, had no sooner answered, with +some misgiving as to the alarm he might occasion, that he was Michael +Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer, than Luther cried out, “Away with thee,” +and added, as he rose from his desk to ring the bell: “Thy breath is +pestiferous, and thy approach is destruction!” + +Kohlhaas, without stirring from the spot said: “Reverend sir, this +pistol, if you touch the bell, lays me a corpse at your feet. Sit down +and hear me. Among the angels, whose psalms you write, you are not +safer than with me.” + +“But what dost thou want?” asked Luther, sitting down. + +“To refute your opinion that I am an unjust man,” replied Kohlhaas. +“You have said in your placard that my sovereign knows nothing of my +affairs. Well, give me a safe-conduct, and I will go to Dresden, and +lay it before him.” + +“Godless and terrible man!” exclaimed Luther, both perplexed and +alarmed by these words, “Who gave thee a right to attack Squire von +Tronka, with no other authority than thine own decree, and then, when +thou didst not find him in his castle, to visit with fire and sword +every community that protected him?” + +“Now, reverend sir,” answered Kohlhaas, “the intelligence I received +from Dresden misled me! The war which I carry on with the community of +mankind is unjust, if I have not been expelled from it, as you assure +me!” + +“Expelled from it?” cried Luther, staring at him, “What madness is +this? Who expelled thee from the community of the state in which thou +art living? When, since the existence of states, was there an instance +of such an expulsion of any one, whoever he might be?” + +“I call him expelled,” answered Kohlhaas, clenching his fist, “to whom +the protection of the laws is denied! This protection I require to +carry on my peaceful trade; it is only for the sake of this protection +that, with my property, I take refuge with this community, and he who +denies it me drives me back to the beasts of the desert, and puts in my +own hand, as you cannot deny, the club which is to defend me.” + +“But who has denied thee the protection of the laws?” cried Luther, +“Did not I myself write that the complaint which was sent by thee to +the elector, is still unknown to him? If his servants suppress suits +behind his back, or abuse his sacred name, without his knowledge, who +but God shall call him to account for the choice of such servants, and +as for thee, abominable man, who has entitled thee to judge of him?” + +“Well,” answered Kohlhaas, “then if the elector does not expel me, I +will return back again to the community which is under his protection. +Give me, as I said before, a safe conduct to Dresden, and I will +disperse the band I have assembled at the Castle of Lützen, and will +once more bring the suit, with which I failed, before the tribunal of +the country.” + +Luther, with a dissatisfied countenance, turned over the papers which +lay upon his table and was silent. The bold position which this man +took in the state offended him, and thinking over the decree which had +been sent to the squire from Kohlhaasenbrück, he asked “what he wanted +from the tribunal at Dresden?” + +“The punishment of the squire, according to law,” answered Kohlhaas, +“the restoration of my horses to their former condition, and +compensation for the injury which has been suffered both by me and my +man Herse, who fell at Mühlberg, through the violence inflicted upon +us.” + +“Compensation for injury!” cried Luther, “Why thou hast raised sums by +thousands from Jews and Christians, in bonds and pledges, for the +satisfaction of thy wild revenge. Wilt thou fix an amount if there +should be a question about it?” + +“God forbid,” said Kohlhaas, “I do not ask back again my house and +farm, or the wealth that I possessed--no more than the expenses of +burying my wife! Herse’s old mother will bring in an account of +medical expenses, and a specification of what her son lost at +Tronkenburg, while for the damage which I sustained by not selling my +horses, the government can settle that by a competent arbitrator.” + +“Terrible and incomprehensible man,” said Luther, gazing at him. “When +thy sword hath inflicted on the squire the most frightful vengeance +that can be conceived, what can induce thee to press for a sentence +against him, the sharpness of which, if it should take effect, would +inflict a wound of such slight importance?” + +Kohlhaas answered, while a tear rolled down his cheek: “Revered sir, +the affair has cost me my wife. Kohlhaas would show the world that she +fell in the performance of no injustice. Concede to my will on these +points, and let the tribunal speak. In every other matter that may +come under discussion, I yield.” + +“Look,” said Luther, “what thou askest, supposing circumstances to be +such as the general voice reports, is just; and if thou hadst +endeavoured, without revenging thyself on thine own account, to lay +thine affair before the elector for his decision, I have no doubt that +thy request would have been granted, in every point. But all things +considered, wouldst thou not have done better, if, for thy Redeemer’s +sake, thou hadst forgiven the squire, taken the horses, lean and +worn-out as they were, mounted them, and ridden home upon them to +fatten them in their own stable at Kohlhaasenbrück.” + +“I might or I might not,” answered Kohlhaas, going to the window, “Had +I known that I should have to set them up with my own wife’s heart’s +blood, then, reverend sir, I might have done as you say, and not have +grudged a bushel of oats. But now they have cost me so dear, the +matter, as I think, had better take its course. So let the sentence be +passed as is my right, and let the squire feed my horses.” + +Luther, in the midst of contending thoughts, again returned to his +papers, and said that he would himself communicate with the elector on +the affair. In the meanwhile he told Kohlhaas to keep himself quiet at +the Castle of Lützen, adding, that if the elector consented to a +safe-conduct it should be made known to him by means of placards. +“Whether,” he added, as Kohlhaas stooped to kiss his hand, “the elector +will show mercy instead of justice, I know not, for I understand he has +collected an army, and is on the point of seizing thee at the Castle of +Lützen. Nevertheless, as I told thee before, there shall be no want of +trouble on my part.” Upon this he arose and seemed about to dismiss +him. Kohlhaas thought that this intercession was perfectly +satisfactory, and Luther was signifying a farewell with his hand, when +the former suddenly dropped on his knee before him, and said he had one +request deep at heart. At Whitsuntide--a period when he was usually +accustomed to take the sacrament--he had not gone to church, on account +of his martial expedition, and he begged that Luther would have the +kindness to receive his confession without further preparation, and to +administer to him the supper of the Lord. + +Luther, eyeing him keenly, said after a short reflection: “Yes, +Kohlhaas, I will do it. But recollect that the Lord, whose body thou +desirest, forgave his enemy. Wilt thou,” he added, as Kohlhaas looked +confused, “likewise forgive the squire who offended thee, go to the +Tronkenburg, set thyself upon thy horses, and ride home to fatten them +at Kohlhaasenbrück?” + +“Reverend sir,” said Kohlhaas, cooling as he grasped his hand, “Even +the Lord did not forgive all his enemies. Let me forgive their +highnesses, the two electors, the castellan and the bailiff, the rest +of the Von Tronkas, and whoever besides may have injured me in this +matter, but let me compel the squire to feed my horses.” + +Luther, on hearing these words, turned his back upon him with a +displeased countenance, and rung the bell. Kohlhaas, as a servant with +a light announced himself in the antechamber, rose astounded, and +drying his eyes, from the ground, and Luther having again set himself +down to his papers, he opened the door to the man who was in vain +struggling against, on account of the bolt being drawn. “Show a +light,” said Luther to the servant, casting a rapid side-glance at the +stranger, whereupon the man rather astonished at the visit took down +the house key from the wall, and retired to the door, which stood half +open, waiting for Kohlhaas to withdraw. “Then,” said Kohlhaas, deeply +moved, as he took his hat in both hands, “I cannot receive the benefit +of a reconciliation as I entreated.” + +“With thy Redeemer, no!” answered Luther shortly, “With thy +sovereign--that, as I told thee, depends upon the success of an +endeavour.” He then motioned the servant to do as he had been ordered, +without further delay. Kohlhaas, with an expression of deep pain, laid +both his hands on his heart, followed the man, who lit him down stairs, +and disappeared. + +On the following morning Luther sent a communication to the Elector of +Saxony, in which after giving a severe side-blow to Herrn Henry, and +Conrad von Tronka, the cup-bearer and chamberlain, who had, as was +notorious, suppressed the complaint, he told him, with that freedom +which was peculiar to him, that under such vexatious circumstances +nothing was left but to accept the horse-dealer’s proposal, and to +grant an amnesty on account of the past, that he might renew his suit. +Public opinion, he remarked, was completely on the side of this man, +and that to a dangerous degree; nay, to such an extent, that even the +city of Wittenberg, which he had burned three times, raised a voice in +his favour. If his offer were refused it would unquestionably be +brought, accompanied by very obnoxious remarks, to the notice of the +people, who might easily be so far led away that the state authority +could do nothing whatever with the transgressor. He concluded with the +observation, that in this case the difficulty of treating with a +citizen who had taken up arms must be passed over; that by the conduct +towards him the man had been in a certain manner released from his +obligation to the state; and that in short, to settle the matter, it +would be better to consider him as a foreign person who had invaded the +country--which would be in some measure correct, as he was indeed a +foreigner[5]--than as a rebel who had taken up arms against the throne. + +The elector received this letter just when Prince Christian of Misnia, +generalissimo of the empire, and uncle of the Prince Frederic who was +defeated at Mühlberg, and still very ill of his wounds, the high +chancellor of the tribunal, Count Wrede, Count Kallheim, president of +the state-chancery, and the two von Tronkas, the cup-bearer, and the +chamberlain, who had both been friends of the elector from his youth, +were present in the castle. The chamberlain, who, as a privy +counsellor of the elector, conducted private correspondence, with the +privilege of using his name and coat of arms, first opened the subject, +and after explaining at great length, that on his own authority he +would never have set aside the petition which the horse-dealer had +presented to the tribunal against his cousin the squire, if he had not +been induced by false representations to consider it a mere vexatious +and useless affair,--he came to the present state of things. He +observed that neither according to divine nor human laws had the +horse-dealer any right to take such a monstrous revenge, as he had +allowed himself on account of this oversight. He dwelled on the lustre +which would fall on the impious head of Kohlhaas, if he were treated as +a party lawfully at war, and the dishonour which would result to the +sacred person of the elector by such a proceeding appeared to him so +great, that he said, with all the fire of eloquence, that he would +rather see the decree of the round-headed rebel acted on, and the +squire, his cousin, carried off to feed the horses at Kohlhaasenbrück, +than he would see the proposition of Dr. Martin Luther accepted. The +high chancellor of the tribunal, half turning to the chamberlain, +expressed his regret that such a tender anxiety, as he now showed to +clear up this affair to the honour of his sovereign, had not inspired +him in the first instance. He pointed out to the elector his objection +against the employment of force to carry out a measure which was +manifestly unjust; he alluded to the constant increase of the +horse-dealer’s followers as a most important circumstance, observing +that the thread of misdeeds seemed to be spinning itself out to an +infinite length, and declared that only an act of absolute justice, +which should immediately and without reserve make good the false step +that had been taken, could rescue the elector and the government from +this hateful affair. + +Prince Christian of Misnia, in answer to the elector’s question, “what +he thought of it,” answered, turning respectfully to the high +chancellor, that the sentiments which he had just heard filled him with +great respect, but that the chancellor did not consider that while he +was for helping Kohlhaas to his rights, he was compromising Wittenberg, +Leipzig, and the whole of the country, which he had laid waste, in +their just claims to restitution or at least to the punishment of the +offender. The order of the state had been so completely distorted in +the case of this man, that a maxim, taken from the science of law, +could scarcely set it right again. Hence he agreed with the opinion of +the chamberlain that the measures appointed for such cases should be +adopted, that an armed force of sufficient magnitude should be raised, +and that the horse-dealer, who had settled himself in the Castle of +Lützen, should be arrested, or, at any rate, that his power should be +crushed. + +The chamberlain, politely taking from the wall two chairs for the +elector and the prince, said he rejoiced that a man of such known +integrity and acuteness agreed with him in the means to be employed in +arranging this difficult affair. The prince, holding the chair without +sitting down, and looking hard at him, observed, that he had no reason +to rejoice, since a measure necessarily connected with the one he had +recommended, would be to order his arrest, and proceed against him for +the misuse of the elector’s name. For if necessity required that the +veil should be let down before the throne of justice, over a series of +iniquities, which kept on indefinitely increasing, and therefore could +no more find space to appear at the bar, that was not the case with the +first misdeed that was the origin of all. A capital prosecution of the +chamberlain would alone authorise the state to crush the horse-dealer, +whose cause was notoriously just, and into whose hand had been thrust +the sword which he carried. + +The elector, whom von Tronka eyed with some confusion as he heard these +words, turned round deeply colouring, and approached the window. Count +Kallheim, after an awkward pause on all sides, said that in this way +they could not get out of the magic circle which encompassed them. +With equal right might proceedings be commenced against the prince’s +nephew, Prince Frederic, since even he, in the singular expedition +which he undertook against Kohlhaas had, in many instances, exceeded +his instructions; and, therefore, were the inquiry once set on foot +about the numerous persons who had occasioned the present difficulty, +he must be included in the list, and called to account by the elector +for what had taken place at Mühlberg. + +The cup-bearer, von Tronka, while the elector with doubtful glances +approached his table, then took up the subject, and said, that he could +not conceive how the right method of proceeding had escaped men of such +wisdom, as those assembled unquestionably were. The horse-dealer, as +far as he understood, had promised to dismiss his force if he obtained +a free conduct to Dresden, and a renewed investigation of his cause. +From this, however, it did not follow, that he was to have an amnesty +for his monstrous acts of vengeance; two distinct points which Dr. +Luther and the council seemed to have confused. “If,” he continued, +laying his finger to the side of his nose, “the judgment on account of +the horses--no matter which way it goes--is pronounced by the Dresden +tribunal, there is nothing to prevent us from arresting Kohlhaas on the +ground of his robberies and incendiarism. This would be a prudent +stroke of policy, which would unite the views of the statesmen on both +sides, and secure the applause of the world and of posterity.” + +The elector, when the prince and the high chancellor answered this +discourse of the cup-bearer merely with an angry glance, and the +discussion seemed to be at an end, said that he would by himself +reflect on the different opinions he had heard till the next sitting of +the council. His heart being very susceptible to friendship, the +preliminary measure proposed by the prince had extinguished in him the +desire of commencing the expedition against Kohlhaas, for which every +preparation had been made. At all events he kept with him the high +chancellor, Count Wrede, whose opinion appeared the most feasible; and +when this nobleman showed him letters, from which it appeared that the +horse-dealer had already acquired a force of four hundred men, and was +likely, in a short time, to double and treble it, amid the general +discontent which prevailed in the land on account of the chamberlain’s +irregularities, he resolved without delay to adopt Dr. Luther’s advice; +he, therefore, entrusted to Count Wrede the whole management of the +Kohlhaas affair, and in a few days appeared a placard, the substance of +which was as follows: + +“We, &c., &c., Elector of Saxony, having especial regard to the +intercession of Dr. Martin Luther, do give notice to Michael Kohlhaas, +horse-dealer of Brandenburg, that, on condition of his laying down +arms, within three days after sight hereof, he shall have free conduct +to Dresden, to the end that his cause be tried anew. And if, as is not +to be expected, his suit, concerning the horses, shall be rejected by +the tribunal at Dresden, then shall he be prosecuted with all the +severity of the law for attempting to obtain justice by his own might; +but, in the contrary case, mercy instead of justice shall be granted, +and a full amnesty shall be given to Kohlhaas and all his troop.” + +No sooner had Kohlhaas received a copy of this notice, which was posted +up all over the country, through the hands of Dr. Luther, than, +notwithstanding the conditional manner in which it was worded, he +dismissed his whole band with gifts, thanks, and suitable advice. All +that he gained by plunder--money, arms, and implements--he gave up to +the courts of Lützen, as the elector’s property, and after he had sent +Waldmann to Kohlhaasenbrück, with letters to the farmer, that he might, +if possible, re-purchase his farm, and Sternbald to Schwerin to fetch +his children, whom he again wished to have with him, he left the Castle +of Lützen, and went to Dresden, unknown, with the rest of his little +property, which he held in paper. + +It was daybreak, and the whole city was still sleeping, when he knocked +at the door of his small tenement in the Pirna suburb, which had been +left him through the honesty of the farmer, and told his old servant, +Thomas, who had the care of the property, and who opened the door with +amazement, that he might go and tell the Prince of Misnia, at the seat +of government, that he, Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer, was there. The +Prince of Misnia, who, on hearing this announcement, thought it right +immediately to inform himself of the relation in which this man stood, +found, as he went out with a train of knights and soldiers, that the +streets leading to the residence of Kohlhaas were already thronged with +an innumerable multitude. The intelligence that the destroying angel +was there, who pursued the oppressors of the people with fire and +sword, had set all Dresden, city and suburbs, in motion. It was found +necessary to bolt the door against the pressure of the anxious +multitude, and the youngsters clambered up to the window to see the +incendiary, who was at breakfast. As soon as the prince, with the +assistance of the guard, who forced a passage for him, had pressed +forward into the house, and had entered Kohlhaas’s room, he asked him, +as he stood half-undressed at a table, “Whether he was Kohlhaas, the +horse-dealer?” Whereupon Kohlhaas, taking out of his girdle a +pocket-book, with several papers relating to his position, and handing +them over, respectfully said, “Yes!” adding that, after dismissing his +band, in conformity with the privilege which the elector had granted, +he had come to Dresden to bring his suit against Squire Wenzel von +Tronka, on account of his black horses. The prince, after a hasty +glance, in which he surveyed him from head to foot, and ran over the +papers which he found in the pocket-book, heard his explanation of the +meaning of a document given by the court at Lützen, and relating to the +deposit in favour of the electoral treasury. Then, having examined him +by all sorts of questions about his children, his property, and the +sort of life he intended to lead in future, and having thus ascertained +that there was no occasion to feel uneasiness on his account, he +returned to him his pocket-book and said that there was nothing to +impede his suit, and that he might himself apply to Count Wrede, the +high chancellor of the tribunal, and commence it immediately. The +prince then, after a pause, during which he went to the window and saw, +with wonder, the immense multitude before the house, said: “You will be +obliged to have a guard for the first days to watch over you here and +when you go out!” Kohlhaas cast down his eyes surprised and was +silent. “Well, no matter!” said the prince, leaving the window, +“whatever happens you will only have yourself to blame.” He then moved +towards the door with the design of quitting the house. Kohlhaas, who +had recovered, said, “Do as you please, gracious prince! Only pledge +me your word to remove the guard as soon as I desire it and I have no +objection to make against this measure.” “That is not worth speaking +of,” said the prince, who after telling the three soldiers, who were +appointed as guards, that the man in whose house they were placed was +free, and that when he went out they were merely to follow him for his +protection, took leave of the horse-dealer with a condescending wave of +the hand and departed. + +About noon, Kohlhaas, attended by his three guards, and followed by a +countless multitude, who, warned by the police, did him no manner of +injury, proceeded to the chancellor’s. Count Wrede received him, in +his anteroom, with kindness and affability, discoursed with him for two +entire hours, and after he had heard the whole course of events from +the beginning to the end of the affair, he directed him to a celebrated +advocate in the city, who was attached to the court, that he might +favourably draw up his complaint. Kohlhaas without further delay went +to the advocate’s house, and after the complaint was drawn up, which, +like the first rejected one, required the punishment of the squire +according to law, the restoration of the horses to their former +condition, and a compensation both for the damage he had sustained, and +for what his servant, Herse, who had fallen at Mühlberg, had suffered +(for the benefit of his mother), he again returned home, still followed +by the gaping multitude, resolving not to go out of doors any more +unless urgent necessity demanded it. + +In the meanwhile Squire Wenzel von Tronka was released from his +confinement in Wittenberg, and after he had recovered from a dangerous +erysipelas in the foot, was peremptorily summoned by the tribunal to +appear at Dresden, and answer the complaint of the horse-dealer, +Kohlhaas, respecting certain horses, which had been unlawfully detained +and spoiled. His relations, the brothers von Tronka, (the chamberlain +and the cupbearer,) at whose house he put up, received him with the +greatest indignation and contempt; they called him a wretched and +worthless person, who brought disgrace on all his family, told him that +he would infallibly lose the cause, and bade him prepare to bring the +horses, which he would be condemned to feed, amid the general derision +of the world. The squire, with a weak trembling voice, said that he +was more to be pitied than any one in the world. He swore that he knew +but little of the whole cursed business, which had plunged him into +calamity, and that the castellan and the bailiff were alone to blame, +inasmuch as they had employed the horses in the harvest without the +remotest knowledge and wish on his part, and had ruined them by +immoderate work in their corn fields. He sat down as he uttered these +words, and entreated his relations not to plunge him back again into +the illness from which he had recovered, by their reproaches. On the +following day, the brothers von Tronka, who possessed property in the +neighbourhood of the destroyed Tronkenburg, finding there was nothing +else to be done, wrote to their farmers and bailiffs, at their +kinsman’s request, to obtain information respecting the horses, which +had disappeared on the day of the calamity and had not been heard of +since. But the whole place having been laid waste, and nearly all the +inhabitants having been slaughtered, they could learn no more than that +a servant, driven by blows with the flat of the incendiary’s sabre, had +saved the horses from the burning shed, in which they stood, and that +on asking where he was to take them, and what he was to do, he only +received from the ruffian a kick for an answer. The gouty old +housekeeper, who had fled to Misnia, stated, in writing, that the +servant on the morning that followed that dreadful night had gone with +the horses to the Brandenburg border. + +Nevertheless all inquiries made in that direction proved fruitless, +and, indeed, the intelligence did not appear correct, as the squire had +no servant whose house was in Brandenburg or even on the road thither. +Men from Dresden, who had been at Wilsdruf a few days after the +conflagration of the Tronkenburg, said that about the time specified a +boy had come there leading two horses by a halter, and that he had left +the animals, as they were in a very wretched plight and unable to +proceed further, in the cow-shed of a shepherd, who had wished to +restore them to good condition. For many reasons it seemed probable +enough that these were the horses in question, but the shepherd of +Wilsdruf had, according to the account of people who came thence, +already sold them to somebody--it was not known to whom; while a third +rumour, the originator of which could not be discovered, was to the +effect that the horses were dead and had been buried in the pit at +Wilsdruf. The brothers von Tronka, who, as might be supposed, +considered this turn of affairs the most desirable, seeing they would +be relieved by it from the necessity of feeding the horses in their own +stable--which they must otherwise have done, as their cousin, the +squire, had no stables of his own--nevertheless wished to be thoroughly +assured that the circumstances were correctly stated. Accordingly Herr +Wenzel von Tronka, in his capacity of feudal lord, wrote to the courts +of Wilsdruf, describing very fully the horses which, he said, had been +lent to him, and had since, unfortunately, been taken away, and +requesting them to try to discover where those animals were stationed, +and to desire the present owner, whoever he might be, to deliver them +up at the stables of the Chamberlain von Tronka, on an indemnification +for all expenses. + +In a few days the man, to whom the shepherd of Wilsdruf had sold the +horses made his appearance and brought them, lean and tottering, tied +to his cart, to the market-place of the city. Unfortunately for Squire +Wenzel, and still more so for honest Kohlhaas, this man was the knacker +from Döbbeln. + +As soon as Wenzel, in the presence of his cousin, the chamberlain, +heard an indistinct rumour that a man with two black horses, saved from +the flames at the Tronkenburg, had come into the city, they both set +off attended by some servants, whom they had hastily gathered together +to the castle-yard, where he was, that in case the horses should turn +out to be Kohlhaas’s they might pay the expenses and take them home. +But how surprised were they when they saw a multitude, which increased +every moment, attracted by the spectacle, and assembled about the cart +to which the horses were fastened. The people were shouting amid peals +of laughter, that the horses which had caused the state to totter had +come to the knackers. The squire, who had walked round the cart, and +saw with confusion the miserable beasts, who looked every moment as if +they longed to die, said that these were not the horses which he had +taken from Kohlhaas, when the chamberlain casting upon him a look of +speechless rage, which, had he been made of iron, would have crushed +him, stepped up to the knacker and asked him, as he flung back his +mantle and discovered his chain and order, whether these were the +horses which had been in the possession of the shepherd of Wilsdruf, +and which Squire Wenzel von Tronka, to whom they belonged, had +required. The man, who with a pail in his hand, was watering a +stout-bodied horse, that drew his cart, said: “Do you mean the black +ones?” Taking the bit out of his horse’s mouth, and setting down the +pail he said that the animals tied to the cart had been sold to him by +a swineherd of Hainichen, but where he got them, and whether they came +from the Wilsdruf shepherd--that he knew nothing about. The messenger +of the Wilsdruf court, he said, as he again took up the pail and rested +it against the pole of the cart, had told him that he was to bring them +to Dresden to the house of the von Tronkas, but the squire to whom he +had been directed was called Conrad. After these words he turned round +with the remainder of the water, which the horse had left in the pail, +and flung it upon the pavement. + +The chamberlain, who amid the gaze of the scoffing multitude could not +get a look from the fellow, who continued his work with the most +insensible zeal, told him that he was the Squire Conrad von Tronka, but +that the horses he had with him belonged to the squire his cousin, that +they had come to the Wilsdruf shepherd through a servant who had run +away, taking advantage of the fire at the Tronkenburg, and that they +originally belonged to the horse-dealer Kohlhaas. He asked the fellow, +who stood with outstretched legs and hitched up his breeches, whether +he really knew nothing about the matter;--whether the swineherd of +Hainichen had not purchased them from the Wilsdruf shepherd (on which +circumstance all depended), or from some third party, who might have +obtained them from that source. + +The man rudely said that he understood not a word that was said, and +that whether Peter or Paul or the Wilsdruf shepherd had the horses +before the swineherd of Hainichen--it was just the same to +him--provided they were not stolen. Upon this he went, with his whip +across his broad back, to a neighbouring pot-house to get his breakfast. + +The chamberlain, who did not know what in the world he should do with +the horses, which the swineherd of Hainichen had, as it seemed, sold to +the knacker of Döbbeln, unless indeed they were the horses on which the +devil rode through Saxony, asked the squire to put in a word, and when +his kinsman, with pale trembling lips, answered that the most advisable +plan would be to buy them, whether they belonged to Kohlhaas or not, he +wrapped his mantle round him, and not knowing what to do, retired from +the crowd, cursing the father and mother who had given him birth. He +then called to him Baron von Wenk, one of his acquaintance, who was +riding along the street, and resolving not to leave the spot, because +the rabble looked at him scoffingly, and with their handkerchiefs +before their mouths only seemed to wait for his departure to burst out, +he bade him call on Count von Wrede and by his means make Kohlhaas come +to inspect the horses. + +Now it happened that Kohlhaas, who had been summoned by an officer of +the court to give certain explanations as to the surrender of property +at Lützen, was present in the chancellor’s room when the baron entered, +and while the chancellor with a fretful countenance rose from his chair +and motioned the horse-dealer aside, the baron, to whom the person of +Kohlhaas was unknown, represented the difficulty in which the von +Tronkas were placed. The knacker had come from Döbbeln in accordance +with a defective requisition of the Wilsdruf courts, with horses +certainly; but their condition was so hopeless that Squire Wenzel could +not help feeling a doubt as to their belonging to Kohlhaas. Hence, if +they were to be taken from the knacker, in order that their recovery +might be attempted, an ocular inspection by Kohlhaas would be necessary +in the first instance to clear up the doubt that existed. “Have then +the goodness,” he concluded, “to fetch the horse-dealer out of his +house with a guard, and let him be taken to the market-place where the +horses now are.” + +The chancellor, taking his spectacles from his nose, said that he found +himself in a dilemma, since, on the one hand, he did not think the +affair could be settled otherwise than by the ocular inspection of +Kohlhaas; and, on the other hand, he did not conceive that he, as +chancellor, had any right to send Kohlhaas about guarded, wherever the +squire’s fancy might dictate. He therefore introduced to the baron the +horse-dealer, who was standing, behind him; and while he sat down and +again put on his spectacles, told him to apply to the man himself. +Kohlhaas, who allowed no gesture to show what was passing in his mind, +declared that he was quite ready to follow the baron to the market, and +inspect the horses, which the knacker had brought to the city. He +then, while the baron turned round, confused, again approached the +chancellor’s table, and took leave of him, having given him from his +pocket-book several papers relative to the surrender at Lützen. The +baron, who, with a face red as fire, had retired to the window, +likewise took leave of the chancellor, and the two, accompanied by the +guards appointed by the Prince of Misnia, proceeded to the palace-yard, +accompanied by a multitude of people. Herr Conrad, the chamberlain, +who, in spite of the solicitation of several friends on the spot, had +maintained his ground among the people against the knacker of Döbbeln, +no sooner saw the baron and the horse-dealer, than he approached the +latter, and, holding his sword proudly under his arm, asked him if the +horses which stood behind the cart were his. The horse-dealer, after +modestly turning to the gentleman who questioned him, and whom he did +not know, and touching his hat, went up to the knacker’s cart, followed +by the train of knights. At about twelve paces distance he glanced +hastily at the animals, who stood on tottering legs, with their heads +bent to the ground, and did not eat the hay which the knacker put +before them, and then returning to the chamberlain, exclaimed: +“Gracious sir, the man is quite right; the horses which are bound to +the cart belong to me.” Then looking at the circle around him, he +touched his hat once more, and, attended by his guard, again left the +spot. The chamberlain had no sooner heard what Kohlhaas said, than he +approached the knacker with a hurried step, that made the plume on his +helmet shake, flung him a purse full of gold; and while the man, with +the purse in his hand, was staring at his money, and was combing back +his hair with a leaden comb, he ordered his servant to detach the +horses and lead them home. This servant, who, at his master’s call, +had left a circle of friends and relatives in the crowd, went up to the +horses over a large puddle, with a face somewhat crimson. Scarcely, +however, had {202} he touched the halter, than his cousin, Master +Himboldt, with the words, “You shall not touch that carrion,” seized +his arm and flung him from the cart. He added, picking his way over +the puddle to the chamberlain, who stood dumb with astonishment, that +he must get a knacker’s boy to perform such an office for him. The +chamberlain, who, foaming with rage, gazed for a moment at Himboldt, +turned round, and called after the guard over the heads of the knights +who were about him. As soon as, by the order of Baron von Wenk, an +officer with some electoral troopers had made his appearance from the +castle, he desired him, after briefly setting forth the shameful acts +of rebellion which the burghers of the city ventured on, instantly to +take the ringleader, Master Himboldt, into custody. Then seizing +Himboldt by the collar, he accused him of flinging away from the cart +the servant who, by his orders, was unbinding the horses, and otherwise +ill-using him. Master Himboldt, throwing off the chamberlain with a +dexterous twist, said: “Gracious sir, telling a fellow of twenty what +he ought to do, is not inciting him to rebellion. Ask him whether, +against all usage and propriety, he will meddle with those horses that +are tied up to the cart. If he will, after what I have told him--why, +be it so! For all that I care, he may flay them on the spot if he +pleases.” Upon this the chamberlain turned round to the servant, and +asked him whether he had any objection to fulfil his commands; namely, +to untie Kohlhaas’s horses, and take them home. The lad, timidly +slinking among the burghers, answered that the horses must be made +decent before he could do any thing of the sort; whereupon the +chamberlain darted after him, tore off his hat, which bore the badge of +his house, trampled it under foot, drew his sword, and hunting the +fellow about with furious strokes of the blade, made him at once quit +the spot and his service together. “Strike the ruffian to the ground!” +shouted Master Himboldt, and while the burghers indignant at the +spectacle, combined together and forced away the guard, he knocked down +the chamberlain from behind, tore off his mantle, collar, and helmet, +twisted the sword out of his hand, and furiously flung it to a +distance. In vain did Squire Wenzel, saving himself from the tumult, +call on the knights to assist his cousin; before they could advance a +step they were dispersed by the pressure of the people, so that the +chamberlain, who had hurt his head by the fall, was exposed to all the +fury of the mob. Nothing could have saved him but the appearance of a +troop of soldiers who happened to be riding by, and whom the officer of +the electoral troopers called to his assistance. This officer, after +repelling the multitude, seized the enraged Himboldt, who was conducted +to prison by some knights, while two friends picked up from the ground +the unfortunate chamberlain all covered with blood, and took him home. +Such was the unlucky termination of the really well-meant and honest +attempt to repair the wrong which had been done to the horse-dealer. +The knacker of Döbbeln, whose business was over, and who did not want +to stop any longer, tied the horses to a lamp-post as soon as the +people began to disperse, and there they stood all day, without any one +to care about them--a jest for the loiterers in the street. Indeed, +for the want of all other attendance, the police was obliged to take +them in hand, and towards night called upon the knacker of Dresden to +keep them in the yard before the town till further directions. + +This occurrence, though the horse-dealer had really nothing to do with +it, awakened among the better and more temperate sort of people, a +feeling which was highly unfavourable to his cause. The relation in +which he stood to the state was considered quite unsufferable, and both +in private houses and in public places, the opinion was expressed, that +it would be better to do him a manifest injustice, and again annul the +whole affair, than show him justice in such a small matter merely to +gratify his mad obstinacy, especially as such justice would only be the +reward of his deeds of violence. Even the chancellor himself, to +complete the destruction of poor Kohlhaas, with his over-strained +notions of justice, and his obvious hatred of the Von Tronka family, +contributed to the propagation and confirmation of this view. It was +highly improbable that the horses, which were now in the custody of the +knacker of Dresden, could be restored to that condition in which they +left the stable at Kohlhaasenbrück, but even suppose art and constant +attention could effect as much, the disgrace which under the +circumstances fell upon the squire’s family was so great, that +considering its political importance as one of the first and noblest +families in the land, nothing appeared more suitable than to propose a +compensation for the horses in money. The chancellor having some days +afterwards received a letter from the president Kallheim, who made this +proposition in the name of the disabled chamberlain, wrote to Kohlhaas, +advising him not to refuse such an offer in case it should be made to +him. Nevertheless he returned a short and not very civil answer to the +president, in which he requested him to spare him all private +commissions of the kind, advising the chamberlain to apply to the +horse-dealer himself, whom he described a very honest and modest man. +Kohlhaas’s resolution was already weakened by the occurrence in the +market-place, and following the advice of the chancellor, he only +waited for overtures on the part of the squire or his connections +readily to meet them with a full pardon for all that had past. But the +knights’ pride was too sensitive to allow them to make such overtures, +and highly indignant at the answer they had received from the +chancellor, they showed the letter to the elector, who on the following +morning visited the chamberlain as he still lay ill of his wounds in +his room. With a weak and plaintive voice, the invalid asked him +whether, when he had already risked his life to settle this matter +according to his wishes, he should now expose his honour to the censure +of the world, and appear with a request for indulgence before a man, +who had brought all imaginable shame upon him and his family. The +elector having read through the letter, asked Count Kallheim, with some +confusion, whether the tribunal would not be justified in taking its +ground with Kohlhaas on the circumstance that the horses could not be +restored, and then in decreeing a mere compensation in money as if they +were dead. The count replied, “Gracious sir, they are dead!--dead in +the legal sense of the word, because they have no value, and they will +be physically dead before they can be removed from the flayer’s yard to +the knight’s stables.” + +Upon this the elector putting up the letter, said that he would speak +about it to the chancellor, consoled the chamberlain, who arose in his +bed and thankfully seized his hand, and after he had told him to take +every care of his health, rose very graciously from his chair, and took +his leave. + +Thus stood matters in Dresden, while another storm still more +formidable was gathering over poor Kohlhaas from Lützen, and the +spiteful knights had tact enough to draw down its flashes upon his +unlucky head. John Nagelschmidt, one of the men collected by Kohlhaas, +and dismissed after the appearance of the amnesty, had thought fit a +few weeks afterwards to assemble anew a portion of the rabble who were +disposed for any outrage, and to carry on the trade into which Kohlhaas +had initiated him on his own account. This worthless fellow, partly to +frighten the officers by whom he was pursued, partly to induce the +peasantry after the ordinary fashion to take part in his misdeeds, +called himself vicegerent to Kohlhaas, and spread a report with the +cunning he had learned from his master, that the amnesty had not been +kept with many men, who had returned quietly to their homes--nay that +Kohlhaas himself, by a shameful violation of faith, had been imprisoned +immediately on his arrival at Dresden, and had been consigned to the +care of a guard. In placards, quite similar to those of Kohlhaas, he +made his band of incendiaries appear as a warlike force, raised solely +for the honour of God, with the mission of seeing that the amnesty +granted by the elector was properly carried out. The whole affair, as +we have already said, had nothing to do with the honour of God, nor +with any attachment to Kohlhaas, about whose fate the fellow was +totally indifferent, but he merely intended under the protection of +devices to burn and plunder with greater impunity. The knights, as +soon as the news of this occurrence reached Dresden, could scarcely +conceal their joy at the entirely new turn which it gave to the whole +affair. With sagacious and dissatisfied side-glances they alluded to +the mistake that had been made in granting Kohlhaas the amnesty in +spite of all their warnings, just as if for the sake of encouraging +rascals of every kind to follow in his steps. Not contented with +giving credence to Nagelschmidt’s pretext, that he had taken up arms +solely for the support and defence of his oppressed master, they +plainly expressed their opinion that the whole enterprise was devised +by Kohlhaas to intimidate the government, and thus to hurry on the +decree and render it completely conformable to his obstinate will. +Nay, the cupbearer went so far as to say to a party of hunting squires +and courtiers, who, after their meal, had assembled in the elector’s +anteroom, that the disbanding of the gang of robbers at Lützen was a +mere feint; and while he laughed much at the chancellor’s love of +justice, he showed from many circumstances clearly combined, that the +troop existed now just as much as before, in the woods of the +electorate, and merely waited for a signal from the horse-dealer to +break out anew with fire and sword. Prince Christian of Misnia, very +much displeased at this new turn of affairs, which threatened seriously +to sully the fame of his sovereign, immediately went to the castle to +see him, and clearly perceiving that it was the interest of the knights +to crush Kohlhaas if possible on the ground of new misdeeds, he asked +leave to examine him at once. The horse-dealer somewhat surprised, was +conducted to the seat of government (_Gubernium_) by an officer, with +his two little boys, Henry and Leopold in his arms, for his man +Sternbald had returned the day before with his five children from +Mecklenburg, where they had been staying, and thoughts of various +kinds, which it would be tedious to unravel, determined him to take +with him to the examination the two boys, who, in tears begged to +accompany him, as they saw him depart. The prince, after looking +kindly at the children, whom Kohlhaas had seated beside him, and asking +their names and ages in a friendly manner, disclosed to him the +liberties which Nagelschmidt, his former servant, had allowed himself +in the valleys of the Erzgebirg, and while he showed him what the +fellow called his mandates, requested him to state what he could in his +own justification. + +Shocked as the horse-dealer was at the scandalous papers, he +nevertheless had but little difficulty in the presence of such an +upright man as the prince, in showing how groundless were the +accusations that had been brought against him. Not only, as he said, +was he, under the circumstances, far from requiring any assistance from +a third party, to bring his suit to a decision, seeing that it was +going on as well as possible, but some letters which he had with him, +and which he produced to the prince, plainly showed the impossibility +of Nagelschmidt being willing to give him the assistance in question, +since shortly before he had disbanded his troop, he had been going to +hang the fellow for acts of violence in the flat country. Indeed he +had only been saved by the appearance of the electoral amnesty, which +had broken off all the connection between them, and they had parted the +day after as mortal enemies. Kohlhaas, on his own proposal, which was +accepted by the prince, sat down and wrote a letter to Nagelschmidt, in +which he called the pretext of supporting the amnesty, granted to him +and his troop, and afterwards broken, a shameful and wicked invention; +and told him that on arriving at Dresden he was neither arrested nor +consigned to a guard, that his suit was proceeding quite according to +his wishes, and that he gave him up to the full vengeance of the laws +as a warning to the rabble around him for the incendiarisms he had +committed in the Erzgebirg, after the publication of the amnesty. At +the same time some fragments of the criminal proceedings, which the +horse-dealer had set on foot against the man at the Castle of Lützen, +for the misdeeds above alluded to, were subjoined to enlighten the +people, as to the good-for-nothing fellow, who had been sentenced to +the gallows, and had only been saved by the elector’s patent. The +prince, satisfied by these acts, calmed Kohlhaas, as to the suspicion +which they had been forced to express under the circumstances, assured +him that so long as he continued in Dresden, the amnesty granted him +should remain unbroken, once more shook hands with the boys, to whom he +gave the fruit that was on the table, and dismissed him. The +chancellor, who likewise perceived the danger that impended over the +horse-dealer, did his utmost to bring the affair to a conclusion before +it became entangled and complicated by new events. Strange to say, the +cunning knights desired and aimed at the same thing, and instead of +tacitly confessing the crime as before, and limiting the opposition to +a mitigation of the sentence, they now began with all sorts of +chicanery to deny the crime itself. Now they gave out that the horses +had merely been kept at the Tronkenburg by the act of the castellan and +the bailiff, of which the squire knew little or nothing; now they +asserted that the beasts were sick of a violent and dangerous cough +immediately after their arrival, appealing to witnesses whom they +promised to produce; and when they were beaten out of the field with +their arguments by inquiries and explanations, they brought an +electoral edict, in which twelve years before, on account of prevailing +distemper among cattle, the introduction of horses from Brandenburg +into Saxony was prohibited. This was to prove that the squire was not +only authorised but actually bound to detain the horses brought by +Kohlhaas over the border. Kohlhaas, who in the meanwhile had +repurchased his farm of the good farmer at Kohlhaasenbrück for a small +sum, wished, as it appears, for the purpose of finally completing this +transaction, to leave Dresden for a few days, and to travel home;--a +resolution in which, however, we doubt not the alleged business, +important as it might be on account of the winter sowing time, had less +part than the wish to examine his situation under circumstances so +remarkable and so critical. Reasons of another kind, which we leave to +the surmise of every one who knows the secrets of his own heart, might +also have operated. He therefore went to the high-chancellor, without +the guard, and having the farmer’s letters in his hand, stated that if +his presence at the court could be dispensed with, as indeed seemed to +be the case, he wished to leave the city and go to Brandenburg for +eight days or a fortnight, promising to return within that time. The +high-chancellor, looking on the ground with a dubious and displeased +countenance, said that his presence was now more necessary than ever, +since the court, in consequence of the crafty and quibbling objections +of the opposite party, would require his explanation in a thousand +cases, which had not been foreseen. However, when Kohlhaas referred +him to his advocate, who was well acquainted with the merits of the +case, and urgently though modestly still adhered to his request, +promising to limit his absence to eight days, the high chancellor said, +after a pause, as he dismissed him, that he hoped he would obtain +passports of Prince Christian of Misnia. Kohlhaas, who perfectly +understood the chancellor’s countenance, sat down at once confirmed in +his resolution, and asked the Prince of Misnia, as chief minister, +without assigning any reason, to give him passports to Kohlhaasenbrück +for eight days. To this request he received an official answer, signed +by Baron Siegfried von Wenk, governor of the castle, stating that his +petition for passports to Kohlhaasenbrück had been laid before the +elector, and that as soon as consent was obtained, they would be +forwarded to him. Kohlhaas asked his advocate how it was that this +paper was signed by a Baron Siegfried von Wenk, and not by Prince +Christian of Misnia, whereupon he was informed that the prince had gone +to his estates three days before, and that the affairs of office had +been entrusted during his absence, to Baron Siegfried von Wenk, +governor of the castle, and cousin to the gentleman who has been +previously mentioned. + +Kohlhaas, whose heart began to beat uneasily under all these +circumstances, waited several days for an answer to his petition which +had been brought before the elector with singular prolixity; but a week +passed, and another and another, and he had neither got an answer nor +had the tribunal come to a decision of his case, definitely as it had +been announced. Therefore, on the twelfth day, fully determined to +know the disposition of the government towards him, whatever it might +be, he sent another pressing application to the ministry for the +passport. But how surprised he was, when on the evening of the +following day (which had likewise passed away without the expected +answer), as he stepped towards the window of his back room, deeply +occupied in pondering over his situation, and especially on the amnesty +which Dr. Luther had obtained for him, he did not see the guards who +had been given him by the Prince of Misnia in the little outhouse which +had been assigned as their abode. The old servant Thomas whom he +called, and of whom he asked what this meant, answered with a sigh, +“Master, all is not as it should be! The soldiers, of whom there are +more than usual to-day, dispersed themselves over the whole house as +night advanced. Two are standing with spear and shield in the street +before the front door, two in the garden at the back door, and two +others are lying on a heap of straw in the anteroom, where they say +they intend to sleep.” Kohlhaas, who changed colour, turned round and +said it was just the same to him whether they were there or not, and +that as soon as he got to the passage he should set up a light that the +soldiers might see. + +Under the pretext of emptying a vessel he opened the front shutter and +convinced himself that the old man had spoken the truth; for the guard +had just been quietly relieved, a measure which never had been thought +of before. This ascertained he lay down in his bed, little inclined to +sleep, and with his mind thoroughly made up as to what he should do the +next day. Nothing on the part of the government was more displeasing +to him than the empty show of justice, while, in fact, the amnesty was +broken; and in case he was a prisoner, about which there seemed to be +no doubt, he wished to compel the government to declare it clearly and +without ambiguity. Therefore, at the dawn of the following day, he had +his vehicle brought up, and the horses put to it by Sternbald his +servant, to go, as he said, to the farmer at Lockewitz, who had spoken +to him a few days before at Dresden as an old acquaintance, and had +invited him to pay him a visit with his children. The soldiers, who +were laying their heads together, and perceived the movements in the +house, sent one of their number privily into the town, whereupon in a +few minutes an officer of the government appeared, at the head of +several men, and went into the opposite house, as if he had something +to do there. Kohlhaas who, as he was occupied with dressing his boys, +witnessed their movements, and designedly kept his vehicle before the +house longer than was necessary, went out with his children, as soon as +he saw that the police had completed their preparations, without taking +any notice, and telling the soldiers at the door as he passed them, +that they need not follow him, he took the boys into the cart, and +kissed and consoled the little crying girls, who, in conformity with +his orders, remained with the daughter of the old servant. He had +scarcely mounted the cart himself, when the officer came up to him with +his train from the opposite house, and asked him where he was going. +Kohlhaas answering that he was going to see his friend the farmer at +Lockewitz, who had some days before invited him into the country with +his boys, the officer said that in that case he must wait a few +moments, as some horse-soldiers, by the command of the Prince of +Misnia, would have to accompany him. + +Kohlhaas asked him, smiling from the cart, whether he thought his +person would not be safe in the house of a friend, who had invited him +to his table for a day. The officer answered pleasantly and cheerfully +enough, that the danger was certainly not great, and added that he +would find the men by no means burdensome. Kohlhaas replied, +seriously, that when he first came to Dresden, the Prince of Misnia had +left it quite free to him whether he would avail himself of the guard +or not, and when the officer expressed his surprise at this +circumstance, and referred to the custom which had prevailed during the +whole of Kohlhaas’s residence at Dresden, the horse-dealer told him of +the occurrence which had led to the appointment of a guard in his +house. The officer assured him that the order of the Baron von Wenk, +governor of the castle, who was at present head of the police, made the +constant guard of his person an imperative duty, and begged him, if it +was unpleasant to be so attended, to go to the seat of government +himself, and rectify the error which seemed to prevail there. +Kohlhaas, darting an expressive look at the officer, and determined +either to bend or to break the matter, said that he would do this, +descended with a beating heart from the cart, had his children carried +into the passage by the servant, and repaired with the officer and his +guard to the seat of government, leaving the man with the vehicle in +front of the house. It chanced that Baron von Wenk was engaged in the +examination of a band of Nagelschmidt’s men, which had been captured in +the neighbourhood of Leipzig, and had been brought in the evening +before, and that these fellows were being questioned on many matters +which would willingly have been heard by the knights who were with the +baron when the horse-dealer and those who attended him entered the +room. The baron no sooner saw him, than he went up to him, while the +knights became suddenly silent, and ceased their examination, and asked +him what he wanted. + +The horse-dealer respectively stating his project of dining with the +farmer in Lockewitz, and his wish to leave behind the soldiers, whom he +did not require, the baron changed colour, and seeming as if he +suppressed another speech, said that his best plan would be to stop +quietly at home, and put off the dinner with the Lockewitz farmer. +Then cutting short the conversation, and turning to the officer he told +him, that the command which he had given him with respect to Kohlhaas, +was to remain as before, and that he was not to leave the city, except +under the guard of six horsemen. Kohlhaas asked whether he was a +prisoner, and whether he was to believe that the amnesty solemnly +granted him in the eyes of the whole world was broken; whereupon the +baron, suddenly becoming as red as fire, turned to him, and walking +close up to him, looked full in his eyes, and answered, “Yes, yes, +yes!” He then turned his back upon him, left him standing, and again +went to Nagelschmidt’s men. + +Kohlhaas then quitted the room, and although he saw that the only +course left for him, namely, flight, was rendered difficult by the +steps which he had taken, he nevertheless concluded he had acted +rightly, as he now saw he was free from all obligation to conform to +the articles of the amnesty. When he reached home, he ordered the +horses to be taken from the cart, and accompanied by the officer +entered his chamber very much dispirited. This officer, in a manner +which greatly disgusted him, assured him that all turned on a +misunderstanding which would soon be cleared up, while his men, at a +sign which he gave them, fastened up all the outlets that led into the +yard. The front entrance, as the officer assured Kohlhaas, was open to +his use as before. + +In the meanwhile, Nagelschmidt was so hampered on all sides by soldiers +and officers of the law in the woods of the Erzgebirge, that being +utterly destitute of means to carry out the part he had chosen, he hit +upon the thought of really drawing Kohlhaas into his interest. He had +learned with tolerable accuracy, through a traveller who passed on the +road, the state of the suit at Dresden, and was of opinion, that in +spite of the open hostility which existed between them, it would be +possible to induce the horse-dealer to enter into a new alliance with +him. He therefore sent a man to him, with a scarcely legible letter, +to the effect, that if he would come to the Altenburg territory, and +resume the conduct of the band, who had assembled there, out of the +relics of the one that had been dismissed, he would furnish him with +horses, men, and money, to assist him in flying from his prison at +Dresden. At the same time, he promised to be better and more obedient +in future than he had been; and to prove his fidelity and devotion, he +offered to come to Dresden himself and effect Kohlhaas’s liberation. +Now the fellow to whom this letter was entrusted had the misfortune to +fall into convulsions of a dangerous sort, such as he had been subject +to from his youth, close to Dresden, and the consequence was, that the +letter which he carried in his doublet, was discovered by people who +came to assist him, and that he himself, as soon as he had recovered, +was arrested, and removed to the seat of government, attended by a +numerous guard. The Governor von Wenk had no sooner read the letter +than he hastened to the elector, in whose castle he found the two von +Tronkas (the chamberlain having recovered of his wounds) and Count +Kallheim, president of the chancery. These gentlemen were of opinion, +that Kohlhaas should be arrested without delay, and prosecuted on the +ground of a secret understanding with Nagelschmidt, since, as they +attempted to prove, such a letter could not have been written, had not +others been previously sent by the horse-dealer, and had not some +criminal compact been formed, for the perpetration of new atrocities. +The elector firmly refused to violate the free conduct which he had +granted to Kohlhaas, on the mere ground of this letter. Nay, according +to his opinion, it rather showed, that no previous communication had +existed between Kohlhaas and Nagelschmidt, and all that he would +resolve upon, and that after much delay, was that, according to the +suggestion of the president, the letter should be sent to Kohlhaas by +Nagelschmidt’s man, just as if the fellow was perfectly at liberty, and +that then it should be seen whether Kohlhaas would answer it. The man, +who had been put in prison, was accordingly brought to the seat of +government on the following morning, when the governor of the castle +restored him his letter, and, promising that he should be free, and +exempt from the punishment he had incurred, told him to give it to the +horse-dealer as if nothing had happened. Without more ado, the fellow +lent himself to the mean stratagem, and as if by stealth, entered +Kohlhaas’s room on the pretext of selling some crabs, with which the +officer had provided him in the market-place. Kohlhaas, who read the +letter while the children played with the crabs, would certainly, under +the circumstances, have taken the fellow by the collar, and delivered +him up to the soldiers, who stood at his door, but as, in the present +disposition of people towards him, such a step might be interpreted in +more than one way, and he was fully convinced that nothing in the world +could help him out of the difficulty in which he was placed, he looked +mournfully at the fellow’s well-known face, asked him where he lived, +and ordered him to come again in an hour or two, when he would +communicate the resolution he had taken with respect to his master. He +told Sternbald, who chanced to enter the room, to buy some crabs of the +fellow he found there, and this having been done, and the two men +having parted without recognition, he sat down and wrote a letter to +Nagelschmidt to the following effect: In the first place he accepted +his offer of the command of the band in Altenburg, and in the next told +him to send him a waggon with two horses to the Neustadt by Dresden, to +free him from the temporary prison in which he was placed with his +children. Two horses more, he said, for the sake of speed would be +wanted on the road to Wittenberg, by which circuitous route, for +certain reasons, too long to specify, he could alone come to him. He +represented the soldiers who guarded him as open to bribery, but +nevertheless, in case force should be necessary, he desired the +presence of a few, stout, active, well-armed fellows in the Neustadt. +To defray the expenses of all these preparations he would send by the +man a _rouleau_ containing twenty gold crowns, about the expenditure of +which he would come to an account with him when the affair was settled. +His presence in Dresden on the occasion of his liberation he prohibited +as unnecessary, nay, he gave the express order that he should remain in +the territory of Altenburg, as the temporary leader of the band, which +could not well do without a captain. When the messenger came towards +the evening he gave him this letter, and rewarding him liberally, +exhorted him to take the greatest care of it. His design was to +proceed to Hamburg with his five children, and there to embark for the +Levant or the East Indies, or as far as the sky might cover other men +than those he knew, for his soul, which was now bowed down with grief, +had given up the notion of getting the horses, to say nothing of his +repugnance to make a common cause with Nagelschmidt. + +Scarcely had the fellow delivered this answer to the castellan than the +high chancellor was removed, the president, Count Kallheim, was +appointed chief of the tribunal in his stead, and Kohlhaas, being +arrested by a cabinet order of the elector, was thrown into the city +prison, heavily laden with chains. Proceedings were commenced against +him on the ground of the letter, which was posted up at all the corners +of the town; and when, before the bar of the tribunal, to the question +of the counsel, who presented him this letter, whether he recognised +the handwriting, he answered “Yes,” but to the question whether he had +any thing to say in his defence, he with downcast eyes answered “No.” +He was condemned to have his flesh torn with red-hot pincers, and his +body quartered and burned between the wheel and the gallows. + +Thus stood matters with poor Kohlhaas in Dresden, when the Elector of +Brandenburg appeared to rescue him from the hands of arbitrary power +and claimed him as a Brandenburg subject in the electoral chancery, +through a note sent for that purpose. For the brave Captain Heinrich +von Geusau had told him, during a walk on the banks of the Spree, the +history of this strange and not utterly abandoned man. On this +occasion, urged by the questions of the astonished elector, he could +not avoid mentioning the wrong which had been done to his own person, +through the improper acts of the high chancellor, Count Siegfried von +Kallheim. The elector, being highly indignant at this, demanded an +explanation of the high chancellor, and finding that his relationship +to the house of Tronka had been the cause of all the mischief, +dismissed him at once with many signs of displeasure, and appointed +Heinrich von Geusau chancellor in his place. + +Now it happened that the kingdom of Poland, while for some cause or +other it was in a hostile position against Saxony, made repeated and +pressing demands to the Elector of Brandenburg to unite against Saxony +in one common cause. This led the High Chancellor Geusau, who was no +novice in such matters, to hope that he could fulfil his sovereign’s +wish of doing justice to Kohlhaas at any price, without placing the +general peace in a more critical position than the consideration due to +an individual would justify. Hence the high chancellor, alleging that +the proceedings had been arbitrary, and alike displeasing to God and +man, not only demanded the immediate and unconditional delivery of +Kohlhaas, that in case he was guilty he might be tried according to +Brandenburg laws, on a complaint which the court of Dresden might make +through an attorney at Berlin, but also required passports for an +attorney whom the elector wished to send to Dresden, to obtain justice +for Kohlhaas against Squire Wenzel von Tronka, on account of the wrong +which had been done the former, on Saxon soil, by the detention of his +horses and other acts of violence which cried aloud to Heaven. The +chamberlain, Herr Conrad, who on the change of office in Saxony had +been nominated president of the state chancery, and who for many +reasons did not wish to offend the court of Berlin, in the difficulty +in which he now found himself, answered in the name of his sovereign, +who was much dejected at the note he had received, that the unfriendly +and unfair spirit in which the right of the court of Dresden to try +Kohlhaas, according to law, for offences committed in the country, had +been questioned, had created great astonishment, especially when it was +well known that he held a large piece of ground in the Saxon +metropolis, and did not deny that he was a Saxon citizen. +Nevertheless, as Poland to enforce her claims had already collected an +army of 5000 men on the borders of Saxony, and the high chancellor, +Heinrich von Geusau, declared that Kohlhaasenbrück, the place from +which the horse-dealer took his name, lay in the Brandenburg territory, +and that the execution of the sentence of death that had been declared +would be considered a violation of the law of nations, the elector, by +the advice of the chamberlain, Herr Conrad himself, who wished to +retreat out of the affair, called Prince Christian of Misnia from his +estates, and was induced by a few words from this intelligent man to +deliver Kohlhaas to the court of Berlin, in compliance with the request +that had been made. + +The prince, who, although he was little pleased with the late unseemly +proceedings, was obliged to undertake the prosecution of the Kohlhaas +affair, in compliance with the wish of his embarrassed sovereign, asked +him on what ground he meant to prosecute the horse-dealer, in the +chamber council at Berlin. To the fatal letter to Nagelschmidt +reference could not be made, so doubtful and obscure were the +circumstances under which it was written, neither could the early +plunderings and incendiarisms be mentioned on account of the placards +in which they had been pardoned. + +The elector, therefore, resolved to lay before the Emperor of Vienna a +statement of the armed attack of Kohlhaas upon Saxony, to complain of +the breach of the public peace, which he had established, and to +request those who were bound by no amnesty to prosecute Kohlhaas in the +Berlin court through an imperial prosecutor. + +In eight days the horse-dealer, chained as he was, was placed in a cart +and transported to Berlin with his five children (who had been got +together again out of the orphan and foundling asylums) by the night +Friedrich von Malzahn, whom the Elector of Brandenburg had sent to +Dresden with six troopers. + +Now it chanced that the Elector of Saxony, at the invitation of the +seneschal (_Landdrost_) Count Aloysius von Kallheim, who held +considerable property on the borders of Saxony, had gone to Dahme to a +great hunt, which had been appointed for his recreation, accompanied by +the chamberlain, Herr Conrad, and his wife the Lady Heloise, daughter +of the seneschal and sister of the president, besides other fine ladies +and gentlemen, hunting-attendants, and nobles. All this party, covered +with dust from hunting, was seated at table under the cover of some +tents adorned with flags, which had been set up on a hill right across +the road, waited upon by pages and young nobles, and recreated by the +sound of cheerful music, which proceeded from the trunk of an oak, when +the horse-dealer, attended by his army of troopers, came slowly along +the road from Dresden. + +The sickness of one of Kohlhaas’s little delicate children had +compelled the Knight von Malzahn, who accompanied him, to remain for +three days at Herzberg--a fact which he did not deem it necessary to +communicate to the government at Dresden, feeling that he was only +responsible to his own prince. The elector, who with his breast +half-uncovered, and his plumed hat adorned with fir-twigs, sat by the +Lady Heloise--his first love in the days of early youth--said, elevated +by the pleasure of the feast, that sparkled round him: “Come let us +give the unfortunate man, whoever he may be, this cup of wine!” The +Lady Heloise, casting a noble glance at him, arose at once, and laying +the whole table under contribution, filled a silver vessel, which a +page handed to her, with fruit, cakes, and bread. The whole party, +with refreshments of all kinds, had already thronged from the tent, +when the seneschal met them with a confused countenance and bade them +stop. To the elector, who asked with surprise what had happened thus +to confound the seneschal, the latter answered, stammering and with his +head turned towards the chamberlain, that Kohlhaas was in the cart. At +this piece of intelligence, which astonished every body, as it was +generally known that Kohlhaas had set off six days before, the +chamberlain, Conrad, took his goblet of wine, and turning towards the +tent poured it into the dust. The elector, deeply colouring, placed +his on a salver, which a page presented to him for that purpose, at a +hint from the chamberlain; and while the knight Friedrich von Malzahn, +respectfully greeting the company, whom he did not know, passed slowly +through the tent-ropes that ran across the way, in the direction of +Dahme, the party, at the invitation of the seneschal, returned to the +tent without taking further notice. + +As soon as the elector was seated, the seneschal privately sent to +Dahme to warn the magistracy there to make the horse-dealer pass on +immediately; but as the knight had declared his wish of passing the +night in the place, on the plea that the day had already advanced too +far to allow of further travel, they were obliged to bring him without +noise to a farm which belonged to the magistracy, and which stood by +the road-side concealed by bushes. + +Towards evening, when the elector’s party had forgotten the whole +affair, their thoughts having been dissipated by the wine, and the +pleasures of a luxurious supper, the seneschal proposed that they +should once more start for a herd of deer which had made its +appearance. The whole party seized on the proposal with delight, and +armed with their rifles went in pairs over hedges and ditches into the +adjoining forest, and the consequence was that the elector and the Lady +Heloise, who hung on his arm to witness the spectacle, were to their +surprise immediately conducted by a messenger, who had been appointed +to attend them, through the court of the very house at which Kohlhaas +and the Brandenburg troops were stopping. + +The lady, when she heard this, said: “Come, gracious sovereign, come!” +adding, as she playfully concealed in his doublet the chain which hung +from his neck, “let us slip into the farm, before our troop comes up, +and see the strange man who is passing the night there.” + +The elector, changing colour, seized her hand and said: “Heloise, what +notion has possessed you?” But when, perceiving his surprise, she +answered that no one would recognise him in his hunting dress, and +also, at the very same moment, two hunting attendants, who had already +satisfied their curiosity, came out of the house and said, that in +consequence of an arrangement of the seneschals, neither the knight nor +the horse-dealer knew of whom consisted the party assembled near Dahme, +the elector, smiling, pressed his hat over his eyes, and said: “Folly, +thou rulest the world, and thy throne is the mouth of a pretty woman.” + +Kohlhaas was sitting on a heap of straw, with his back against the +wall, feeding the child that had fallen sick at Herzberg, with rolls +and milk, when his noble visitors entered the farm-house. The lady, to +introduce the conversation, asked him who he was, what was the matter +with the child, what crime he had committed, and whither they were +conducting him under such an escort. He doffed his leather cap, and, +without ceasing from his occupation, gave her a short, but satisfactory +answer. + +The elector, who stood behind the huntsman, and observed a little +leaden case that hung from Michael’s neck by a silken thread, asked +him, as there was nothing better to talk about, what this meant, and +what was kept in it. + +“Ah, your worship,” said Kohlhaas, detaching it from his neck, opening +it, and taking out a little slip of paper fastened with a wafer, “there +is something very peculiar about this case. It is about seven months +ago, on the very day after my wife’s burial, when I had set out from +Kohlhaasenbrück, as perhaps you know, to seize the person of Squire von +Tronka, who had done me much wrong, that for some negotiation, unknown +to me, the electors of Saxony and Brandenburg had a meeting in +Jüterboch, a market town, through which my way led me. When they had +settled every thing according to their wishes, they went through the +streets of the town, conversing in a friendly manner, that they might +see the fair, which was held with due merriment. Presently they came +to a gipsy woman, who sat upon a stool, and uttered prophesies to the +people who surrounded her, out of an almanack. + +“This woman they asked, jestingly, whether she had any thing pleasant +to tell them. I, who had put up at an inn, with all my band, and +chanced to be present at the spot when this occurrence took place, +standing at the entrance to the church, could not hear, through the +crowd, what the strange woman said to the electors. When the people +whispered, laughingly, in each other’s ears, that she would not +communicate her science to any body, and crowded thickly together on +account of the spectacle that was preparing, I got upon a bench, which +had been hewn out in the entrance to the church, not so much because I +was curious myself, as because I would make way for those that were. +Scarcely had I, from this elevation, taken a full survey of the +electors and the woman, who sat before them on the stool, and seemed to +be scribbling something, than she suddenly raised herself on her +crutches, and, looking round the people, fixed her eyes upon me, who +had not spoken a single word to her, and had never cared for such +sciences in my life. + +“Pressing towards me, through the dense crowd, she said: ‘Ah, if the +gentleman wishes to know, he had better ask you.’ Then, your worship, +with her dry, bony hands she gave me this slip. All the people turned +round to me, and I said, perfectly astonished, ‘Why, mother--what sort +of a present is this?’ After all sorts of unintelligible stuff, among +which, to my great surprise, I heard my own name, she replied, ‘It is +an amulet, thou horse-dealer, Kohlhaas, keep it well, it will one day +save thy life.’ And so saying, she vanished. Now!” continued +Kohlhaas, good humouredly, “to tell the truth, sharply as matters have +been going on in Dresden, they have not cost me my life; and as for +Berlin, the future will show me how I get on there, and whether I shall +come off well.” + +At these words the elector seated himself on a bench, and, although to +the inquiry of the astonished lady, what was the matter with him, he +answered, “Nothing, nothing at all”--he, nevertheless, fell senseless +upon the ground, before she had time to run up to him and catch him in +her arms. + +The Knight von Malzahn, who, on some business or other, entered the +room at this moment, said: “Good God, what ails the gentleman?” while +the lady cried out, “Water, bring water!” + +The huntsmen raised the elector from the ground and carried him to a +bed in an adjoining room, and the consternation of all reached its +height, when the chamberlain, who had been fetched by a page, declared, +after many futile endeavours to restore the elector to his senses, that +there were all the signs of apoplexy. + +The seneschal, while the cup-bearer sent a messenger on horseback to +Luckau to fetch a physician, caused the elector to be placed in a +vehicle, as soon as he opened his eyes, and to be taken, slowly, to his +hunting castle in the neighbourhood. The consequence of this journey +was two fainting fits after his arrival at the castle, and it was late +on the following morning, when the physician from Luckau had arrived, +that he recovered in some degree, still with the decided symptoms of an +impending nervous fever. As soon as he had regained his senses he +raised himself in his bed, and his first inquiry was for Kohlhaas. + +The chamberlain, who misunderstood his question, said, seizing his +hand, that he need no longer trouble himself about this terrible man, +since, as had been designed, he had remained at the farm at Dahme, +guarded by the Brandenburg escort, after the sudden and +incomprehensible mischance which had occurred. Assuring him of his +warmest sympathy, and also that he had reproached his wife most +bitterly for her unwarrantable heedlessness in bringing him in contact +with the man, he asked what there was so strange and monstrous in the +conversation to strike him thus. + +The elector said he could only confess that the sight of a worthless +slip of paper, worn by the man in a leaden case, had been the cause of +the unpleasant occurrence. In explanation of this circumstance he +uttered much which the chamberlain did not understand, suddenly assured +him, as he pressed his hand, that the possession of this slip would be +of the utmost importance, and finally entreated him to mount on +horseback without delay, to ride to Dalheim, and to purchase the slip +from Kohlhaas at any price. + +The chamberlain, who had difficulty in concealing his embarrassment, +represented to him, that if this slip was of any value to him, it would +be absolutely necessary to conceal the fact from Kohlhaas, since, if he +got a hint of it through any heedless expression, all the wealth of the +elector would be insufficient to get it out of the hands of a fellow so +insatiable in his vengeance. To calm him, he added that some other +means must be devised, and that perhaps it would be possible to gain +the slip to which he attached so much importance, by cunning and +through the medium of a third indifferent party, as the criminal did +not set any value on it. + +The elector, wiping the perspiration from his forehead, asked whether +it would not be possible with this intent to send to Dahme, and to +delay the further transport of the horse-dealer until the slip, in some +way or other, was secured. + +The chamberlain, who could not trust his senses, replied that in all +probability the horse-dealer had unfortunately left Dahme already, and +was already over the boundary and on Brandenburg soil, where every +endeavour to impede his progress, or to turn him back, must lead to the +most unpleasant and lengthened difficulties--such difficulties, indeed, +as it might be impossible to get over. + +When the elector, with a gesture of utter despair, threw himself back +on his cushion in silence, the chamberlain asked him what it was that +the slip contained, and by what strange and inexplicable chance he knew +that the contents concerned him. + +Casting equivocal glances at the chamberlain, whose willingness to +oblige him he doubted, the elector made no answer, but lay quite stiff, +yet with heart uneasily beating, while his eyes were fixed on the +corner of the handkerchief, which, immersed in thought, he held in his +hands. All at once he ordered him to call into the chamber the +hunting-page (_Jagd-junker_) Von Stein, an active and sharp-witted +young gentleman, whom he had often employed on secret affairs, on the +pretext that he had business to settle with him of quite a different +nature. + +After he had set forth the whole affair to this page, and had informed +him of the importance of the slip, now in the possession of Kohlhaas, +he asked him whether he was willing to earn an eternal claim to his +friendship by getting this slip before Kohlhaas reached Berlin. + +The page as soon as he, in some degree, understood the affair, strange +as it was, declared that all his powers were at the service of the +elector, whereupon the latter commissioned him to ride after Kohlhaas, +and in case money would not suffice, as probably it would not, to offer +him in a prudently managed discourse, life and liberty as the price of +the slip; nay, if he insisted upon it, to supply him at once, though +cautiously, with horses, people, and money, to assist him in escaping +from the hands of the Brandenburg troopers who escorted him. The page, +having obtained from the elector a written authority in his own hand, +set off with some attendants, and not allowing his horses any breathing +time, he had the good luck to overtake Kohlhaas at a village on the +border, where, with the Knight von Malzahn and his five children, he +was partaking of a dinner, that was spread before the door of a house +in the open air. The Knight von Malzahn, to whom the page introduced +himself as a foreigner, who wished to see the remarkable man on his +journey, even anticipated his wishes, as he compelled him to sit down +to the meal, at the same time introducing him to Kohlhaas. As the +knight had affairs to mind, which caused him to absent himself every +now and then, and the troopers were dining at a table on the other side +of the house, the page soon found an opportunity of telling the +horse-dealer who he was, and explaining the particular object of his +mission. + +The horse-dealer, who had already learned the name and rank of the +person who had fainted in the farm-house at Dahme at the sight of the +case, and who wanted nothing more to complete the astonishment which +the discovery had caused, than an insight into the secrets of the case, +which for many reasons he had determined not to open out of mere +curiosity,--the horse-dealer, we say, mindful of the unhandsome and +unprincely treatment which he had experienced at Dresden, in spite of +his readiness to make every possible sacrifice, declared that he +intended to keep the case. To the question of the page, what could +induce him to utter so singular a refusal, when nothing less than life +and liberty was offered him, Kohlhaas replied: + +“Sir, if your sovereign came here in person and said to me, ‘I will +destroy myself with the troop of those who help to wield the sceptre;’ +although such destruction is the dearest wish of my soul--I would still +refuse him the case, which is even more valuable to him than existence, +and would say, ‘to the scaffold you can bring me, but I can injure you, +and I will.’” And immediately, with death in his face, he called for +one of the troopers, ordering him to take a good portion of the repast +which still remained in the dish. For the remainder of the hour, which +he passed in the village, he never turned towards the page, but treated +him, although he sat at the table, as if he was not present, until, +when he ascended the cart, he turned round and gave him a farewell look. + +The situation of the elector, when he learned the news, grew worse and +worse; indeed to such a degree, that the physician, during three +portentous days, was in the greatest anxiety for his life, which seemed +attacked from more sides than one. However, by the force of his +naturally strong constitution, after keeping his bed for several +painfully passed weeks, he recovered sufficiently to be removed to a +carriage, and thus, with an ample store of cushions and coverlets, to +be conveyed to Dresden to the affairs of his government. As soon as he +had reached the city he sent for Prince Christian of Misnia, and asked +him how matters were going on with respect to the mission of the +Councillor Eibenmeyer, who was to be sent to Vienna as attorney in the +Kohlhaas affair, to complain to the emperor of the breach of the +imperial peace. The prince told him that this councillor had set off +to Vienna, in conformity with the instructions, which he had left when +he went to Dahme, immediately after the arrival of the Jurist Zäuner, +whom the Elector of Brandenburg had sent as attorney to Dresden, to +prosecute the suit about the horses against the Squire Wenzel von +Tronka. + +The elector, who, deeply colouring, withdrew to his writing-table, +expressed his astonishment at this haste, since he had, to his +knowledge, declared that the departure of Eibenmeyer was to wait for +nearer and more definite instructions, a reference to Dr. Luther, who +had procured the amnesty for Kohlhaas, being first necessary. With an +expression of suppressed anger, he turned over and over the documents +that lay upon the table. The prince, after staring at him for some +time in silence, said, that he should be sorry if he had not conducted +this affair to the satisfaction of his sovereign, adding, that in the +state-council not a word had been said about a reference to Dr. Luther; +and that although perhaps at an earlier part of the proceedings it +would have been proper to refer to this reverend gentleman, on account +of his intercession for Kohlhaas, it was now no longer requisite, since +the amnesty had already been broken in the eyes of the whole world, and +Kohlhaas had been arrested, and delivered up to the Brandenburg +tribunal for judgment and execution. + +The elector admitted that the mistake in sending Eibenmeyer was not so +great, but expressed his wish that he should not appear at Vienna in +his official capacity of prosecutor till he had received further +instructions, and told the prince to communicate this to him +accordingly through an express. The prince replied that this command +came unfortunately a day too late, since Eibenmeyer, according to a +notice which had arrived that very day, had appeared in the quality of +attorney, and had proceeded to bring the complaint before the +state-chancery in Vienna. + +When the elector asked with astonishment how this was possible in so +short a time, he answered, that three weeks had already elapsed since +Eibenmeyer’s departure, and that by the instructions which he had +received, it was incumbent upon him to despatch the business as soon as +possible after his arrival at Vienna. The prince further remarked, +that a delay would, under the circumstances, be so much the more +unjustifiable, as the Brandenburg representative, Zäuner, was +proceeding against Squire Wenzel von Tronka with the boldest energy, +and had already moved the court, that the horses, as a preliminary +measure, should be taken out of the hands of the flayer, with a view to +their future recovery, and had succeeded in carrying this point in +spite of all the objections of the opposite party. + +The elector, ringing the bell, said, “Well, no matter!” and after +putting some indifferent questions to the prince, such as “how matters +stood in Dresden,” and “what had been going on in his absence,” he +shook hands with him, unable any longer to conceal the state of his +mind, and dismissed him. On the very same day he sent to him a written +request for all the documents relating to the Kohlhaas affair, under +the pretext that he would take the management of it into his own hands +on account of its political importance. The thought of destroying the +man from whom alone he could learn the mysteries of the slip was to him +insupportable, so he addressed to the emperor a letter in his own hand, +in which he requested him in the most pressing manner, for certain +important reasons, which he would perhaps explain more definitely in a +short time, to set aside the complaint which Eibenmeyer had brought +against Kohlhaas, until some further conclusion had been arrived at. + +The emperor, in a note which he despatched through the state chancery, +replied that he was greatly astonished at the change in the elector’s +sentiments, which seemed to have occurred so suddenly, adding, that the +information laid before him on the part of Saxony, made the matter of +Kohlhaas an affair of the whole sacred Roman empire, that he, the +emperor, as the head of that empire, was bound to appear as prosecutor +in this suit with the House of Brandenburg; that now the +court-assessor, Franz Müller, had gone to Berlin as imperial attorney, +for the express purpose of bringing Kohlhaas to account there for a +violation of the imperial peace, it would be impossible to set aside +the complaint, and that therefore the affair must take its course +according to the laws. The elector was completely cast down by this +letter; and when, to his utter confusion, he shortly afterwards +received private letters from Berlin announcing the commencement of the +proceedings before the chamber-council, and stating that Kohlhaas, in +spite of all the endeavours of his advocate, would probably end his +days on a scaffold, the unhappy prince resolved to make one attempt +more, and he therefore wrote a letter himself to the Elector of +Brandenburg, begging for the horse-dealer’s life. He pretended that +the amnesty which had been promised to the man, would render improper +the fulfilment of a capital sentence; assured him, that in spite of the +apparent severity of the proceedings against Kohlhaas, it had never +been his intention to put him to death; and stated how inconsolable he +should be if the protection which seemed to be granted him from Berlin, +should by an unexpected turn prove more to his disadvantage than if he +had remained in Dresden, and the affair had been decided according to +Saxon law. + +The Elector of Brandenburg, who perceived much that was obscure and +ambiguous in this request, replied by stating that the urgency with +which the imperial advocate proceeded would not allow him to depart +from the strict injunctions of the law to accede to his (Saxony’s) +wishes. At the same time he remarked that the anxiety of the Elector +of Saxony in this matter seemed to be carried too far, since the +complaint against Kohlhaas, which was now before the Berlin +chamber-council, and which concerned the crimes pardoned in the +amnesty, did not proceed from him who granted it, but from the head of +the empire, who was not in any manner bound by it. He also impressed +upon him how necessary it was to make a terrible example, seeing that +the outrages of Nagelschmidt still continued, and with unparalleled +audacity had advanced even to the borders of Brandenburg; and requested +him, if he would pay no regard to these reasons, to address himself to +his imperial majesty, since, if an edict was to be pronounced in favour +of Kohlhaas, it could come from that quarter alone. + +The elector, extremely grieved and vexed at all these futile attempts, +fell into a new illness, and when one morning the chamberlain visited +him, he showed him the letters which he had addressed to the courts of +Vienna and Berlin, for the purpose of obtaining a reprieve for +Kohlhaas, and thus at least of gaining time to possess himself of the +slip which he had with him. + +The chamberlain threw himself on his knees before him, and requested +him by all that was dear and sacred to tell him what this slip +contained. + +The elector said, that he might bolt the room and sit down upon the +bed, and after he had taken his hand, and pressed it to his heart with +a sigh, he began as follows: “Your wife, as I understand, has already +told you that the Elector of Brandenburg and I, on the third day of the +meeting, which we had in Jüterboch, met a gipsy. When the elector, who +is of sportive disposition, resolved by a jest to demolish in the sight +of the people the fame of this extraordinary woman, whose art had been +the subject of unseemly conversation at table, and asked her, on +account of the prophecy which she was about to utter, to give him a +sign that might be tested that very day, alleging that he could not +otherwise believe what she said, were she the Roman sybil herself. The +woman, taking a cursory view of us from head to foot, said that the +sign would be this: that the great roebuck, which the gardener’s son +reared in the park, would meet us in the market where we stood before +we left it. You must know that this roebuck, being intended for the +Dresden kitchen, was kept under lock and bolt, in a partition fenced +round with high laths, and shaded by the oaks of the park. As on +account of other smaller game and birds the park and the garden besides +were kept carefully closed, it was not easy to see how the animal, in +accordance with the strange prediction, would come to the place where +we stood. Nevertheless the elector, fearing some trick, and resolved +to put to shame all that the woman might say, for the sake of the jest, +sent to the castle, with orders that the roebuck should be killed at +once, and got ready for the table at an early day. He then turned back +to the woman, who had spoken about this matter aloud, and said: ‘Now, +what have you to tell me about the future?’ The woman, looking into +his hand said: ‘Hail to my lord the elector! Your grace will long +reign, the house from which thou descendest will long endure, and thy +descendants will become great and glorious, and attain power above all +the princes and lords of the world.’ The elector, after a pause, +during which he eyed the woman thoughtfully, said half aside, and +stepping up to me, that he was almost sorry he had sent a messenger to +annihilate the prophecy, and when the money, from the hands of the +knights who followed him, poured into the woman’s lap, amid loud +huzzas, he asked her, putting his hand in his pocket, and giving a +piece of gold, whether the greeting she would give to me had such a +silvery sound as his own. The woman, after she had opened a box which +stood beside her, had very deliberately put the money in it, arranging +it according to description and quantity, and had closed the lid again, +held her hand before the sun as if the light annoyed her, and looked at +me. When I repeated the question, and said jestingly to the elector, +while she examined my hand, ‘It seems that she has nothing very +pleasant to tell me,’ she seized her crutch, rose slowly from her +stool, and approaching me with hands mysteriously held out, whispered +distinctly into my ear, ‘No!’--‘So!’ said I, somewhat confused, and I +receded a step back from the figure, who with a glance as cold and +lifeless as that from eyes of marble, again seated herself on the stool +which stood behind her. ‘Pray from what side does danger threaten my +house?’ The woman taking up a bit of charcoal and a slip of paper, and +crossing her knees, asked me whether she should write it down; and when +I, with some confusion, because under the circumstances there was +nothing else left to do, answered ‘Yes, do so,’ she replied: ‘Very +good, I will write down three things--the name of the last ruler of thy +house, the year when he will lose his kingdom, and the name of him who +will take it by force of arms.’ Having finished her task in the sight +of the whole mob, she fastened together the slip with a wafer, which +she moistened with her withered mouth and pressed upon it a leaden ring +which she wore upon her middle finger. I was curious beyond +expression, as you may easily conceive, to take the slip, but she said: +‘By no means, your highness,’ adding as she turned round and raised one +of her crutches, ‘from that man yonder, who with the plumed hat is +standing behind all the people on the bench in the entrance of the +church, you may get the paper if you choose.’ And at once, while I was +standing perfectly speechless with astonishment, and had not rightly +made out what she said, she left me, and packing up the box which stood +behind her and flinging it over her back, mingled with the surrounding +crowd, so that I was unable to see her. It was a great consolation to +me at this moment that the knight, whom the elector had sent to the +castle, now returned and told him laughing, that the roebuck had been +killed and dragged into the kitchen by two hunters before his eyes. + +“The elector, merrily putting his arm into mine, with the intention of +leading me from the spot, said: ‘Good! the prophecy turns out to be a +mere common-place trick, not worth the time and money which it has cost +us.’ But how great was our astonishment, when, at the very time he was +speaking these words, a cry was raised, and all eyes were turned +towards a great butcher’s dog which came running from the castle-court, +and which, having seized the roebuck in the kitchen, as good spoil, had +borne it off by the nape of the neck, and now dropped it about three +paces from us, followed by a troop of servants, male and female. Thus +was the woman’s prophecy, which she had uttered as a guarantee for all +the rest that she predicted, completely fulfilled, as the roebuck had +indeed met us in the marketplace, although it was dead. The lightning +which falls from heaven on a winter’s day, cannot strike with more +annihilating effect than that which this sight produced on me; and my +first attempt, after I had freed myself from the persons about me, was +to find out the man with the plumed hat, whom the woman had designated; +but although my people were employed for three days uninterruptedly, in +seeking information, not one of them was in a condition to give me the +slightest intelligence on the subject. Now, friend Conrad, a few weeks +ago, in the farm at Dahme, I saw the man with my own eyes.” + +Having finished this narrative, the elector let the chamberlain’s hand +fall, and sank back on his couch, wiping off the perspiration. The +chamberlain, who thought every attempt to oppose or correct the +elector’s view of the case would be fruitless, entreated him to try +some plan to obtain possession of the slip, and then to leave the +fellow to his fate; but the elector replied, that he could see no plan +at all, although the thought of going without the paper, and of seeing +all knowledge of it perish with Kohlhaas, made him almost desperate. +To his friend’s question, whether he had made any efforts to discover +the gipsy herself, he answered that the government (_Gubernium_), in +pursuance of a command which he had sent forth under a false pretext, +had in vain sought for the woman to that day, in all the public places +in the electorate, while, from other reasons which he declined to +communicate more explicitly, he expressed his doubts whether she was to +be found in Saxony. It chanced that the chamberlain wished to travel +to Berlin for the sake of some considerable property in the Neumark, to +which his wife had become entitled by the bequest of the High +Chancellor Kallheim, who died soon after he was displaced; and, +therefore, as he really was much attached to the elector, he asked him, +after a short deliberation, whether he would let him act quite at +liberty in this matter. + +The elector, pressing the chamberlain’s hand with warmth against his +breast, answered: “Consider that you are myself, and get the paper;” +and, therefore, the chamberlain, having entrusted his office to other +hands, hastened his journey by a day or two, and, leaving his wife +behind, set off for Berlin, accompanied only by some servants. + +Kohlhaas, who, as we have already said, had in the meanwhile arrived at +Berlin, and by the special order of the elector had been put in a state +prison, made as comfortable as possible for the reception of him and +his five children, was, immediately after the appearance of the +imperial attorney from Vienna, brought before the chamber council +charged with a breach of the imperial peace. Although he said, in +answer, that he could not be prosecuted for his armed attack in Saxony, +and the violence he had there committed, by virtue of the agreement +made with the Elector of Saxony, at Lützen, he was informed that of +that agreement the emperor, whose attorney conducted this complaint, +could take no cognizance. When the matter was explained to him, and he +heard, besides, with reference to his affair at Dresden, that he would +have ample justice against Squire Wenzel von Tronka, he readily +submitted. The very day on which the chamberlain arrived, sentence was +passed against Kohlhaas, and he was condemned to be put to death with +the sword;--a sentence which, seeing how complicated was the state of +affairs, no one believed would be executed, notwithstanding its +mildness; nay, the whole city, knowing the good feeling of the elector +towards Kohlhaas, firmly hoped that the capital punishment, by a +special edict, would be commuted into a long and severe imprisonment. + +The chamberlain seeing at once that no time was to be lost, if he would +fulfil his sovereign’s commission, went to work, by appearing one +morning, sedulously attired in his usual court-dress, before Kohlhaas, +who was innocently watching the passers-by from the window of his +prison. Concluding, from a sudden movement of his head, that the +horse-dealer had perceived him, and particularly observing, with great +delight, how the latter clutched, involuntarily, at the part of his +breast, where the case was situated, he judged, that what had passed in +the mind of Kohlhaas at that moment, was a sufficient preparation to +advance one step further in the attempt to gain possession of the paper. + +He, therefore, called to him an old rag-woman, who was hobbling about +on crutches, and whom he had observed in the streets of Berlin among a +host of others, who were trafficking in the same commodity. This +woman, in age and attire seemed to bear a pretty close resemblance to +the one whom his elector had described, and as he thought that Kohlhaas +would have no clear recollection of the features of the gipsy, who had +only appeared for a moment when she gave him the case, he resolved to +pass off this old woman for the other one, and if possible to let her +take the part of the gipsy before Kohlhaas. To put her in a proper +position to play this part, he informed her, circumstantially, of all +that had passed between the two electors and the gipsy at Jüterboch, +not forgetting to tell her the three mysterious articles contained in +the paper, as he did not know how far the gipsy might have gone in her +explanations to Kohlhaas. After explaining to her what she must let +fall in an incoherent or unintelligible manner, for the sake of certain +plans that had been devised to obtain the paper, either by force or +stratagem--a matter of great importance to the Saxon court--he charged +her to ask Kohlhaas for it, under the pretext of keeping it for a few +eventful days, as it was no longer safe in his possession. The woman, +on the promise of a considerable reward, part of which the chamberlain, +at her request, was forced to give beforehand, at once undertook to +perform the required office; and as the mother of the man, Herse, who +had fallen at Mühlberg, sometimes visited Kohlhaas, with the permission +of the government, and this woman had been acquainted with her for some +months, she succeeded in visiting Kohlhaas at an early day, with the +help of a small present to the gaoler. + +Kohlhaas, as soon as she entered, thought that by the seal-ring, which +she wore on her finger, and the coral chain which hung from her neck, +he recognised the old gipsy who had given him the can at Jüterboch. +Indeed, as probability is not always on the side of truth, so was it +here; for something happened which we certainly record, but which every +one who chooses is at liberty to doubt. The fact is, the chamberlain +had committed the most monstrous blunder, the old woman whom he had +picked up in the streets of Berlin to imitate the gipsy, being no other +than the mysterious gipsy herself whom he wished to be imitated. The +woman leaning on her crutches, and patting the cheeks of the children, +who, struck by her strange aspect, clung to their father, told him that +she had for some time left Saxony for Brandenburg, and in consequence +of a heedless question asked by the chamberlain in the streets of +Berlin, about the gipsy who was in Jüterboch in the spring of the past +year, had at once hurried to him, and under a false name had offered +herself for the office which he wished to see fulfilled. + +The horse-dealer remarked a singular likeness between this woman and +his deceased wife Lisbeth: indeed he could almost have asked her if she +were not her grandmother; for not only did her features, her hands, +which, bony as they were, were still beautiful, and especially the use +which she made of these while talking, remind him of Lisbeth most +forcibly, but even a mole by which his wife’s neck was marked, was on +the gipsy’s neck also. + +Hence, amid strangely conflicting thoughts, he compelled her to take a +seat, and asked her what possible business of the chamberlain’s could +bring her to him. + +The woman, while Kohlhaas’s old dog went sniffing about her knees, and +wagged his tail while she patted him, announced that the commission +which the chamberlain had given her, was to tell him how the paper +contained a mysterious answer to three questions of the utmost +importance to the Saxon court, to warn him against an emissary who was +at Berlin, with the design of taking it, and to ask for the paper +herself, under the pretext that it was no more safe in his own bosom. +The real design of her coming was, however, to tell him that the threat +of depriving him of the paper, by force or cunning, was completely +idle, that he had not the least cause to feel any apprehension about +it, under the protection of the Elector of Brandenburg--nay, that the +paper was much safer with him than with her, and that he should take +great care not to lose it, by delivering it to any one under any +pretext whatever. However, she added by saying, that she thought it +prudent to use the paper for the purpose for which she had given it to +him at the Jüterboch fair, to listen to the offer which had been made +to him on the borders by the page, von Stein, and to give the paper, +which could be of no further use to him, to the Elector of Saxony, in +exchange for life and liberty. + +Kohlhaas, who exulted in the power which was given him, of mortally +wounding his enemy’s heel, at the very moment when it trampled him in +the dust, replied, “Not for the world, good mother; not for the world!” +and pressing the old woman’s hand, only desired to know, what were the +answers to the important questions contained in the paper. + +The woman, taking in her lap the youngest child, who was crouching down +at her feet, said, “No--not for the world, Kohlhaas the horse-dealer; +but for the sake of this pretty little fair-haired boy.” So saying, +she smiled at him, embraced him, and kissed him; while he stared at her +with all his might, and gave him with her dry hands an apple, which she +carried in her pocket. + +Kohlhaas said, in some confusion, that even the children, if they were +old enough, would commend him for what he had done, and that he could +not do any thing more serviceable for them and their posterity than +keep the paper. He asked, besides, who, after the experience he had +already made, would secure him against fresh deception, and whether he +might not sacrifice the paper to the elector, just as uselessly, as he +had formerly sacrificed the troop which he collected at Lützen. “With +him who has once broken his word,” said he, “I have nothing more to do, +and nothing, good mother, but your demand, definitively and +unequivocally expressed, will cause me to part with the slip by which, +in such a remarkable manner, satisfaction is given me for all that I +have suffered.” + +The woman, setting the child down upon the ground, said, that he was +right in many respects, and could do and suffer what he pleased; and, +taking her crutch again in her hand, prepared to go. + +Kohlhaas repeated his question respecting the contents of the strange +paper; and when she answered him hastily, that he might open it, if +only out of curiosity, he wished to be informed about a thousand things +more before she quitted him; such as who she was; how she acquired her +science; why she had refused to give the wonderful paper to the +elector, for whom it was written, and had just selected him, who had +never cared about her science, among so many thousand persons. + +At this very moment a noise was heard, made by some police officers, +who were coming up stairs, and the woman, who seemed suddenly afraid +lest she should be found by them in these apartments, answered: +“Farewell till we meet again, Kohlhaas! When we meet again, you shall +have knowledge of all this.” Turning towards the door, she cried, +“Good-bye, children, good-bye!” and kissing the little folks one after +the other, she departed. + +In the meanwhile the Elector of Saxony, entirely given up to his +melancholy thoughts, had summoned two astrologers named Oldenholm and +Olearius, who then stood in high repute in Saxony, and had consulted +them as to the contents of the mysterious paper, which was of such high +import to himself and the whole race of his posterity. When these men, +after a deep inquiry, which had continued for three days in the castle +at Dresden, could not agree whether the prophecy referred to distant +ages or to the present time, while perhaps the crown of Poland, the +relations with which were so warlike, might be pointed at,--the +uneasiness, not to say the despair of the unhappy prince, far from +being lessened by the learned dispute, was rendered more acute, and +that to a degree perfectly insupportable. About the same time, the +chamberlain charged his wife, who was on the point of following him to +Berlin, to point out to the elector before her departure, how doubtful, +after the failure of the attempt he had made with the old woman, whom +he had never seen since--how doubtful was the hope of obtaining the +paper now in the possession of Kohlhaas, since the sentence of death +had already been signed by the Elector of Brandenburg after a careful +examination of the documents, and the execution was already appointed +for the Monday after Palm-Sunday. + +At this intelligence, the Elector of Saxony, whose heart was rent with +grief and remorse, shut himself up in his room for two days, during +which, being weary of his life, he tasted no food. On the third day, +he suddenly disappeared from Dresden, giving a short notice to the +Gubernium that he was going to the Prince of Dessau to hunt. Where he +actually went, and whether he did turn to Dessau, we must leave +undecided, since the chronicles from the comparison of which we obtain +our information, are singularly contradictory upon this point. So much +is certain, that the Prince of Dessau, unable to hunt, lay sick at this +time, with his uncle, Duke Henry, in Brunswick, and that the Lady +Heloise on the evening of the following day, accompanied by a Count +Königstein, whom she called her cousin, entered the room of her +husband, the chamberlain. + +In the meantime, the sentence of death was read to Kohlhaas at the +elector’s request, and the papers relating to his property, which had +been refused him at Dresden, were restored to him. When the +councillors, whom the tribunal had sent to him, asked him how his +property should be disposed of after his death, he prepared a will in +favour of his children, with the assistance of a notary, and appointed +his good friend the farmer at Kohlhaasenbrück their guardian. Nothing +could equal the peace and contentment of his last days, for by a +special order of the elector, the prison in which he was kept was +thrown open, and a free approach to him was granted to all his friends, +of whom many resided in the city. He had the further satisfaction of +seeing the divine, Jacob Freysing, as a delegate from Doctor Luther, +enter his dungeon, with a letter in Luther’s own hand (which was +doubtless very remarkable, but has since been lost), and of receiving +the holy sacrament from the hands of this reverend gentleman, in the +presence of two deans of Brandenburg. + +At last the portentous Monday arrived, on which he was to atone to the +world for his too hasty attempt to procure justice, and still the city +was in general commotion, not being able to give up the hope that some +decree would yet come to save him. Accompanied by a strong guard, and +with his two boys in his arms--a favour he had expressly asked at the +bar of the tribunal--he was stepping from the gate of his prison, led +by Jacob Freysing, when, through the midst of a mournful throng of +acquaintance who shook hands with him and bade him farewell, the +castellan of the electoral castle pressed forward to him with a +disturbed countenance, and gave him a note which he said he had +received from an old woman. Kohlhaas, while he looked upon the man, +who was little known to him, with astonishment, opened the note, the +seal of which, impressed on a wafer, reminded him of the well-known +gipsy. Who can describe his astonishment when he read as follows: + + +“KOHLHAAS,--The Elector of Saxony is in Berlin. He is gone before thee +to the place of execution; and thou mayest know him, if, indeed, it +concerns thee, by a hat with blue and white feathers. I need not tell +thee the purpose for which he comes. As soon as thou art buried, he +will dig up the case, and have the paper opened which it contains. + +“THY ELIZABETH.” + + +Kohlhaas, turning to the castellan in the greatest astonishment, asked +him if he knew the wonderful woman who had given him the note. + +The castellan began to answer: “Kohlhaas, the woman----” but he stopped +short in the middle of his speech; and Kohlhaas, being carried along by +the train, which proceeded at this moment, could not hear what the man, +who seemed to tremble in every limb, was saying to him. When he came +to the place of execution, he found the Elector of Brandenburg on +horseback there, with his train, among whom was the Chancellor Heinrich +von Geusau, in the midst of an immense concourse of people. To the +right of the elector stood the imperial advocate, Franz Müller, with a +copy of the sentence in his hand, while on his left, with the decree of +the Dresden Court chamber, was his own advocate, the jurist Anton +Zäuner. In the midst of the half-open circle formed by the people, was +a herald with a bundle of things and the two horses, now sleek and in +good condition, beating the ground with their hoofs. For the +Chancellor Henry had carried every point of the suit, which, in the +name of his master, he had commenced at Dresden against Squire Wenzel +von Tronka; and consequently the horses, after they had been restored +to honour by the ceremony of waving a flag over their heads, had been +taken out of the hands of the flayer, and, having been fattened by the +squire’s men, had been handed over to the advocate in the Dresden +market, in the presence of a commission appointed for the purpose. +Therefore, the elector, when Kohlhaas, attended by the guard, ascended +the court to him, said: “Now, Kohlhaas, this is the day on which you +have justice. Here I give you back all which you were forced to lose +at the Tronkenburg, your horses, handkerchief, money, linen, and the +expenses for medical attendance on your man, Herse, who fell at +Mühlberg. Are you content with me?” + +Kohlhaas, while with open, sparkling eyes, he read over the decree +which was put into his hands, at a hint from the chancellor, put down +the two children whom he carried, and when he found in it an article, +by which Squire Wenzel was condemned to be imprisoned for two years, +quite overcome by his feelings, he threw himself down before the +elector, with his hands crossed on his breast. Joyfully assuring the +chancellor, as he arose, and laid his hand on his bosom, that his +highest wish on earth was fulfilled, he went up to the horses, examined +them, and patted their fat necks, cheerfully telling the chancellor, as +he returned to him, that he made a present of them to his two sons, +Henry and Leopold. + +The chancellor, Henry von Geusau, bending down to him from his horse +with a friendly aspect, promised him in the name of the elector, that +his last bequest should be held sacred, and requested him to dispose of +the other things in the bundle according to his pleasure. Upon this +Kohlhaas called out of the mob Herse’s old mother, whom he perceived in +the square, and giving her the things, said, “Here, mother, this +belongs to you,” adding, at the same time, the sum which was in the +bundle, to pay damages, as a comfort for her old days. + +The elector then cried, “Now, Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer, thou to whom +satisfaction has been thus accorded, prepare to give satisfaction +thyself for the breach of the public peace.” + +Kohlhaas, taking off his hat, and throwing it down, said, that he was +ready, and giving the children, after he had once more lifted them up +and pressed them to his heart, to the farmer of Kohlhaasenbrück, he +stepped up to the block, while the farmer, silently weeping, led the +children from the place. He then took the handkerchief from his neck, +and opened his doublet, when taking a cursory glance at the circle of +people, he perceived at a short distance from himself, between two +knights, who nearly concealed him, the well-known man with the blue and +white plumes. Kohlhaas, bringing himself close to him by a sudden +step, which astonished the surrounding guard, took the case from his +breast. Taking the paper out, he opened it, read it, and fixing his +eye on the man with the plume, who began to entertain hopes, put it +into his mouth and swallowed it. At this sight, the man with the blue +and white feathers fell down in convulsions. Kohlhaas, while the man’s +astonished attendants stooped down and raised him from the ground, +turned to the scaffold, where his head fell beneath the axe of the +executioner. Thus ends the history of Kohlhaas. + +The corpse was put into a coffin, amid the general lamentations of the +people. While the bearers were raising it to bury it decently in the +suburban church-yard, the elector called to him the sons of the +deceased, and dubbed them knights, declaring to the chancellor, that +they should be brought up in his school of pages. The Elector of +Saxony, wounded in mind and body, soon returned to Dresden, and the +rest concerning him must be sought in his history. As for Kohlhaas, +some of his descendants, brave, joyous people, were living in +Mecklenburg in the last century. + + +[1] On one point the translator of this tale solicits the indulgence of +his critical readers. A great number of official names and legal terms +occur, the technical meaning of which could not properly be defined by +any one but a German jurist. As these names have no exact equivalents +in English, the names into which they are here translated may appear +arbitrary. The translator can only say that, where exactitude was +impossible, he has done his best. + +[2] “Squire” is used as an equivalent for “Junker.” “Castellan” is put +for “Burgvoigt” and “Schlossvoigt.” + +[3] “Gerichtsherr” means lord of the manor with right of judicature. + +[4] “Amtmann” means here a farmer of crown-lands. + +[5] That is a subject of another state, here Brandenburg. + + + + +THE KLAUSENBURG. + +BY LUDWIG TIECK. + +[The following Gespenster-Geschichte, or Ghost Story, as Tieck himself +has called it, is related to a circle of friends by a gentleman, Baron +Blamberg, who was a friend of the unfortunate subject of the story. +The ruins of the Klausenburg are, according to the words of the +narrator, near the house where they are assembled. The story is often +interrupted by the company, but their conversation has no connection +with it, and has therefore been omitted.--C. A. F.] + + +It is about fifty years since that a rich family lived among the +mountains a short distance off, in a castle, of which only the ruins +are now to be seen, since it was partly destroyed by thunder and +lightning, and the remainder was demolished in war. It is now only +occasionally visited by huntsmen and travellers who have lost their +way, and it is called the ruins of the Klausenburg. Proceeding up the +solitary footpath through the pine wood, and then climbing the pathless +crag, you stand facing its entrance, which is cut out of the living +rock and secured by an ancient and strongly barred gate. On the +outside is an iron rod with a handle apparently communicating with a +bell on the inside. Having once wandered there while hunting, I pulled +this handle, but received no answer to my summons from within. As this +spot can only be approached with much difficulty, and it is almost +impossible to climb the chasms and rocks on the other side, there are +many legends and tales current among the vulgar about this singular +Klausenburg the remains of which present an almost spectral appearance. + +Among other stories, it is reported that more than a century ago, there +resided within its walls a very wealthy, benevolent, and industrious +man, who was much beloved by his friends and tenants. He had early in +life retired from the state service to devote himself to the management +of his estates, of which he possessed many, including mines, and glass +and iron foundries which he was able to work to great advantage, having +abundant fuel from his extensive forests. Although beloved by his +tenants, he was yet hated and envied by many of his equals, the more +reasonable of whom disliked him because he avoided them, and they +readily perceived that he despised them for their want of industry; +while the more foolish believed, and even openly declared, that Count +Moritz was in league with Satan, and was therefore successful beyond +expectation in all he undertook. + +However absurd the report, it was calculated at this early period to +injure the character of this persevering man; as it was not many years +after the time when people were burnt at the stake for witchcraft and +for being in league with the evil one. Hence it was that the count in +disgust retired from the world to the solitary castle of Klausenburg, +and was only happy when conversing on his affairs with intelligent +miners, machine makers, and learned men. Knowing the distrust with +which he was looked upon by the old priests who held the livings in his +different parishes, he but rarely appeared at church, a circumstance +which but little contributed to raise his reputation in the +neighbourhood. + +It happened once that a band of gipsies, who at that time roved about +in Germany with little molestation, came to these parts. The nobles of +the country as well as the government were undecided and dilatory in +checking this nuisance, and the boundaries of several states meeting +here, the tribe could carry on their depredations with impunity and +even unnoticed. Where they did not receive any thing, they robbed; +where they were resisted they came at night and burnt the barns; and in +this manner the fire on one occasion rapidly spreading, two villages +were burnt to the ground. Count Moritz was induced by this +circumstance to unite with some resolute neighbours, and to pursue and +punish, on his own authority, the lawless tribe. Imprisonment, +scourging, flogging, and starvation, were awarded by him without +reference to any authority, and only some who were convicted of arson +were sent to the town for what was called the gipsy trial, and were +then legally condemned to suffer capital punishment. + +The count considering himself the benefactor of his country, could not +help feeling mortified when his enviers and calumniators used this very +circumstance to accuse him of the blackest crimes, and the most +atrocious injustice. To this ingratitude he opposed nothing but calm +indignation, and a contempt which was perhaps too magnanimous; for if a +nobleman always preserves silence, calumny and falsehood will be more +readily believed by the foolish and those who have no character to +lose. If he could not prevail on himself to meet his opponents and to +relate the circumstance in detail, he felt himself quite disarmed on +discovering how much he was misunderstood in his family, and by the +being who was nearest to his heart. He had married late in life, and +his wife having a few days before presented him with a son, was still +confined to her room. In her present weak state he could not dispute +or urge with any force the justice of his proceedings, when she +reproached him with the cruelty he had exercised towards these poor +innocent men, who rather deserved his compassion than such hard +persecution. When on leaving her chamber some old cousins told him the +same thing in plainer terms, he could no longer suppress his rage, and +his replies were so wrathful, his curses so vehement, the gestures of +the irritated man so superhuman, that the old prattling women lost +their composure and almost swooned. To prevent his sick wife from +learning all this, he immediately sent them by main force to another of +his estates and then rode to a solitary part of the mountains, partly +to divert his thoughts and strengthen himself by the sublime aspect of +nature, and partly to resume the pursuit of the gipsies. But what was +his astonishment when he learned from his ranger that those noblemen +who, in conjunction with him, had undertaken the war against these +vagabonds had dispersed and retired to their seats without giving him +notice! + +Without being disconcerted at this, he again succeeded in apprehending +some of them who were guilty of heavy crimes, and ordered them to be +bound and thrown into a secure dungeon. When after having dismissed +his attendants, he rode thoughtfully back alone towards the +Klausenburg, the aged castellan on his arriving at the gate gave him a +packet which had been sent by the government. This he opened with +anticipating vexation, and was so surprised by its contents that his +anger rose, and he became infuriated almost to madness. The purport of +the letters it contained was no less than a penal accusation for murder +and high treason in consequence of the count’s having, on his own +authority, and as leader of an armed troop, seditiously opposed the +government. Almost senseless, he dropped these preposterous letters, +and then, recovering by a sudden effort, went to his apartment to read +the impeachment more calmly, and to consider how he could defend +himself. Passing the countess’s chamber and hearing strange voices +within, he hastily opened the door, and beheld--what he certainly did +not expect, two dirty old gipsies dressed in rags, sitting by the +bedside of the invalid, and foretelling her fate, while they +frightfully distorted their hideous countenances. As might be +expected, the countess was horror-struck at beholding her husband +enter, for what he now did was truly barbarous. In his fury he +scarcely knew what he did, and seizing the old prophetesses by their +long gray hair, he dragged them out of the room and threw them down the +staircase. He then commanded the servants, who came crowding round, to +secure them to a stone pillar in the yard, to bare their backs, and +chastise them with whips, as long as the strength of the ministers of +his cruelty would hold out. His orders were executed. + +Having locked himself in his room, he was horrified, on becoming +calmer, as he reflected on the barbarities he had committed. From +these thoughts he was aroused by a loud knocking at the door. He +opened it, and a servant in evident terror entered, saying, “Oh! +gracious count, I was afraid you were ill, or perhaps dead, for I have +been knocking for a long time, without receiving any answer from your +lordship.” “What do you want?” “The eldest of these hideous witches,” +replied the servant, “insists on speaking to you for a minute before +she leaves the castle. She will not be refused, and the most severe +threats and curses avail nothing with the old woman.” The count +ordered the ill-used woman to be led to his room. The appearance of +the poor creature was frightful, and the count himself started back +with horror, when she presented herself covered with blood, her face +and arms lacerated, and a deep wound in her head, which was still +uncovered. “I thank you,” she said, “kind brother, for the Christian +kindness that you have shown me in your palace. You are, indeed, a +virtuous man, a persecutor of vice, an impartial judge, and a punisher +of crimes; and I suppose you would call yourself an avenging angel in +the service of your God. Do you know then, tender-hearted man, why we +were sitting by the bedside of your wife? We had, indeed, told her +fortune, but the real object of our visit was to speak to you, and you +were not in your hospitable house. It was our wish to separate from +the gang, and seek a humble and honest living. We know the haunt where +the leader conceals himself, that notorious incendiary whom you have so +long sought in vain, and intended to deliver him into your hands; but +you are worse than the most atrocious of our gang, and as you have +shown us to-day so much kindness, a curse for it shall light upon you, +your family, and your offspring, to the third and fourth generation.” + +The count, who had now repented of his hasty wrath, wished to appease +the awful woman, by speaking kindly to her, and offering her, by way of +reconciliation, his purse well filled with gold. She cast an evil, +though covetous look at the gold, and, grinding her teeth, threw the +purse at the count’s feet. “That mammon,” she cried, “would have made +me and my poor sister happy, but after the meal you have given us, I +would rather gnaw the bark of trees than receive the wealth from your +accursed hands.” Various and many were the curses she continued +heaping on him, and the torments and misfortunes she denounced against +him and his house. When she had finished, she tottered down the stone +staircase, all the servants fleeing from her as from a spectre. + +From this moment the count was a changed man. His energies were +crushed. He lived as in a dream, having no wish, and being incapable +of forming a single resolution. Those around him could not learn +whether he was deeply shocked by the death of his consort, who died the +night after that fatal day. Since that time he was scarcely ever heard +to speak or to utter a sound, sigh, or complaint. He no longer +concerned himself about any thing, and seemed perfectly indifferent +when the government confiscated his largest estate to punish him as a +rebel and violator of the laws. In his present state of mind, he +abandoned himself to the guidance of those very priests whom previously +he had so pointedly avoided; he frequented the church often, and was +fervent in his devotions. He never looked round when people behind him +called out, “There sneaks the old sinner, the traitor, the murderer, +and rebel, back again into God’s house.” Now, likewise, some relatives +profited by his listlessness so far as to deprive him by a lawsuit of +another large estate, and there was every appearance that of all the +large possessions of his ancestors, nothing would be left, for his only +heir, a beautiful boy, had not a prudent guardian of the child done all +in his power for him. From the unconcern of his father, the young +count became daily more impoverished, leaving to his offspring but a +small portion of the large property to which he had succeeded; but, +notwithstanding these misfortunes, and also the breaking out of war, +the next proprietor of the Klausenburg, and his family, maintained +their rank, and were respected in the neighbourhood. By his industry, +his success, and his marriage with a wealthy lady, he partly retrieved +his fortune, and succeeded in his endeavours to revive and maintain the +former splendour of his castle for some fifty or sixty years, so that +his friends and relatives resorted to it as formerly, with delight, and +he, at his death, left to his only son his remaining estates in good +condition, besides large sums of money. Thus the curse of the gipsies +appeared totally removed, the count and his son having completely +forgotten former events, or, having, perhaps, never heard of the curse. + +I was a spirited boy when I made the acquaintance of Francis, the last +heir of the Klausenburg. This Francis, who was about a year my senior, +was cheerful, amiable, and handsome, and the pride of his father, the +persevering man who had partly restored the splendour of his ancestors. +My playmate grew up to be, not merely the delight of his father, but of +all around. He was manly, witty, and engaging, an accomplished dancer, +and expert horseman, and in fencing, had not his equal. After being +presented at court, he soon gained the prince’s favour, by his natural +vivacity, and in a few years was raised to the office of counsellor. +Few men on earth had fairer prospects of a happy life. All mothers and +aunts in the neighbourhood saw, and hoped to find in him, the future +husband of their daughters and nieces, and at the assemblies in the +capital he was the adored and chosen hero of the ladies, as he was the +object of envy and persecution among the young fashionables. No one +could conceive why he so long deferred his choice, and, for a long +time, people would not credit the rumours that were circulated, that he +had formed an engagement with the young princess. It was confidently +whispered that the lovers waited only for some favourable chance, or +occurrence, to acknowledge publicly their mutual affection and wishes. +However, nothing of the kind happened, and years passed, and with them +faded the rumours, and various interpretations of sage politicians. + +Suddenly, when the affair seemed forgotten, my youthful friend was +banished the court and capital in disgrace. All his former friends +forsook him, and what was still worse, an intrigue countenanced by the +government, involved him in a dangerous lawsuit, which threatened the +loss of his fortune. Thus then this courted, admired, and universally +caressed Francis, saw himself in the very worst position, and was +obliged to confess that his career was closed, and that all his +splendid prospects were darkened for ever. + +About this time I saw him again; he bore his misfortune manfully. He +was still as youthful and handsome as ever, and the serenity of his +temper had suffered but little. We were travelling in this +neighbourhood, and the Klausenburg having gone to ruin, he built a +pleasant house not far distant, on the slope of a hill, from whence he +enjoyed a beautiful prospect. + +He avoided speaking of former circumstances, but one evening, he was +deeply affected by a letter announcing the decease of the young +princess, who had died of a broken heart, or, as was afterwards said, +had voluntarily sought death, because she could no longer bear the +burden of her embittered life. + +It was evident to me that a deep-seated melancholy had taken possession +of my friend, and often showed itself; his mind, however, was not so +affected as to display any symptoms of weariness of life, which made me +hope that his misfortune and the evil fate that had attended him, would +serve to purify his character, and give him that genuine deportment +which is essential even to those who are not tried by calamity, and +much more to those who have to pass through heavy trials. + +There lived in the neighbourhood about that time a wild old woman who +was half crazy, and who went begging from village to village. + +The higher class called her jokingly, the Sibyl, the common people did +not hesitate to call her a witch. The place of her residence was not +exactly known; probably she had no certain place of resort, as she was +constantly seen on the high-roads, and roaming in every direction in +the country. Some old rangers maintained that she was a descendant of +that notorious gang of gipsies whom Count Moritz many years before had +persecuted and dispersed. + +Walking one day in a beautiful beech-wood, and engaged in conversation +which made us forget the world without, we suddenly saw, at a turn of +the footpath, the old hideous Sibyl before us. Being both in a +cheerful mood, we were rather astonished, but in no way startled. +Having dismissed the impudent beggar by giving her some money, she +hastily returned, saying: “Will not you have your fortunes told for +what you have given to me?” + +“If it is something good that you can tell me, you may earn a few more +pence.” + +I held out to her my hand at which she looked at very carefully, and +then said, scornfully: “My good sir, you have a miserable hand which +would puzzle even the best fortune-teller. Such a middling person, +neither one thing nor the other, as you, I have never seen in all my +life; you are neither wise nor stupid, neither bad nor good, neither +fortunate nor unfortunate; without passions, mind, virtue, or vice; you +are what I call a real A.B.C. scholar of Heaven’s blockheads, and you +will not in all your life have the slight merit of ever perceiving your +own insignificance. From your paltry hand and unmeaning countenance +nothing at all can be prophesied; a dry fungus, without it is first +prepared and macerated, cannot even receive a spark. Therefore, Jack +Mean-nothing, your dull nature will never live to see any thing worth +telling.” + +My friend Francis did not laugh at the old woman’s opinion and +description of my character, but being attached to me, his anger arose, +and he reproved her in strong terms. She listened very calmly to what +he said, and then replied: “Why are you so angry? If you will not give +me something more for my trouble and wisdom, let me go quietly. No +doubt men do not like to have their inner-most heart exposed to the +daylight. Is it my fault that there is nothing better in your friend’s +character? He is neither my son nor disciple.” Thus the prophetess +meant to justify and atone for her insolence by repeating it anew. My +friend was pacified, and gave her a ducat, saying: “Make merry with +that,--where do you live?” + +“Where do I live?” she replied; “my roof changes so often that I cannot +tell or describe it to you; not unfrequently it is open, and my +companion is the howling storm; where men have not built houses they +usually call it nature. But I thank you, and must requite your +kindness.” Quickly and forcibly taking the unwilling hand of my +friend, she held it firmly between her bony fingers and considered it +for some time; then letting the arm drop, with a sigh, she said in a +tone of voice expressive of deep sorrow, “Son, son; you descend from +wicked blood, are an evil scion of evil ancestors; but fortunately you +are the last of your race, for your children would be more evil still. +What begins in evil must end in evil. Ah! ah! your physiognomy; your +expression; your whole countenance; I feel almost as if I saw a +murderer before me. Yes! yes!--you have killed a young, beautiful, and +noble maiden. On her dying bed she long struggled with grief and +anguish. O ye wicked men, can you not be faithful and keep your oaths. +It is not only daggers, swords, and guns, that cut and kill; looks and +sweet words will also do it. Oh, those seductive words, and all that +pretended affection! Now this splendid frame that first dazzled your +foolish eye, breaks, and is consigned to corruption. Beauty! oh thou +fatal gift of Heaven! and besides, murderer, you are handsome enough to +kill others. The curses of your father follow you now whether you +dwell in the forest or in your finely tapestried rooms. See you not, +feel you not, how, coming from the very heart, they waft misfortune and +misery towards you as the stormy wind scatters the dry leaves in the +valleys between the mountains? Where is your peace, your happiness, +your confidence? All scattered like the drifting sand in the barren +plain; no fruit can there strike root.” + +Suddenly the crazy woman shouted aloud and ran shrieking and yelling +discordantly into the thickest part of the wood. When I looked round I +was terrified on seeing my friend become pale as death. He shook so +violently that he could not support himself, but sank on a hillock +beside him. I sat down by him and endeavoured to comfort and quiet him. + +“Is this madwoman,” he exclaimed; “inspired by truth? does she really +see the past and the future, or are those only mad sounds which she +utters in brutish thoughtlessness, and if it be so, have not such +random words been perhaps the genuine oracles in all ages?” + +He now gave way to tears and loud lamentations; he called loudly in the +air, what hitherto he had so carefully and mysteriously locked up in +his heart. + +“Yes!” he exclaimed; “accursed be every talent, speech, grace, and all +the gifts with which a malicious fate endowed us to ruin ourselves and +others! Could I not have avoided her first kind look? Why did I +suffer myself to be infatuated, to exchange glance for glance, and then +word for word? Yes! she was lovely, noble, and graceful; but in my +heart there arose together with better feelings, the vanity that even +she, the most exalted, distinguished me. I approached her nearer, more +boldly, more decidedly, and my pure exalted sentiments surprised and +won her. She gave me her confidence. Her heart was so virtuous, so +noble; all her youthful feelings were so tender and fervent; it was a +paradise that opened to our view. Childishly enough, we thought that +no higher happiness on earth could be offered us, the present heavenly +moment sufficed. But now passion awoke in my heart. This she expected +not, she was terrified and withdrew. This goaded my self-love, I felt +unhappy, crushed, and ill. Her compassion was moved, and she no longer +avoided me. By means of an attendant in our confidence, we were able +to meet without witnesses. Our intercourse became more tender, our +love more defined and ardent; but as these feelings were embodied in +language, and expressed more definitely, the paradisiacal breath, the +heavenly bloom was fled for ever. It was happiness, but changed in +character; it was more earthly, more kindly, more confiding, but was +not surrounded by that magic which had transported me formerly, so that +I could frequently ask myself when alone, ‘are you really happy?’ +Alas! my friend, as we saw each other so often, how many foolish and +mad projects were then conceived! + +“We talked, we conversed of the future of which those who ardently love +never think in the early period of their ecstacies. Once an +opportunity of an alliance likely to add to the lustre of her house +presented itself. What fury and bitter rancour were aroused in me! +For only appearing favourably disposed towards this illustrious +alliance, she suffered much from my anger. My passion was ignoble, as +she deeply felt, more from her love to me, than from the sufferings it +caused her. Oh! she was never able to erase from her soul this picture +of my madness. To alleviate my sufferings and completely to reconcile +me, she stooped to my mean and rude nature. Our hearts harmonised +again, but from the lowering clouds that now surrounded me, I looked +back with yearnings to that heavenly serenity that first shone +dazzlingly upon me so. In imagination we lived as though affianced, +and dreamt of our union, of unexpected bliss, of varied pleasures and +turns of fate never to be realised. But these were misty visions, and +we considered the greatest improbabilities as near and natural. The +habitual thoughts of our love gradually destroyed necessary precaution. +The looks of spies were watchful, and were sharpened by our imprudence. +Rumours were circulated, which perhaps never would have reached the +prince himself, had not his own glance suspected and discovered our +connection. He now learnt more from his questions than he desired to +know, and far more than was in accordance with truth. One evening he +sent for me to attend him alone in his closet, and displayed to me in +this serious interview all the nobleness of his great mind. Without +reproaching me, he ascribed to himself alone the immediate cause of my +presumption, saying that he had treated me with too much confidence, +nay, almost like a son; that he had deviated too much from his rank and +the laws of etiquette; that he had foolishly rejoiced in the thought of +his daughter being able by intercourse with me to improve her mind. As +he became more serious, I assured the agitated father by my honour, and +by all that is sacred,--which indeed was in accordance with the +truth,--that our mutual passion had never led us astray, and that our +better genius had never forsaken us. At this he became tranquil, and +only replied by prohibiting as I had anticipated. I was not allowed to +meet his daughter again privately. I was to endeavour by degrees to +heal the wounds which our separation caused, to eradicate the +affection, which I had so rashly kindled, by my good sense and +demeanour, and thereby to make myself worthy to regain the confidence +and love of the prince. + +“Suddenly I felt as if the veil had fallen from my eyes,” continued +Francis, “indeed, I may say, that by this interview, I was quite a +changed being. Truth and reality had now, at length, with victorious +power, asserted their ascendancy over me. Many periods of life may be +compared to a vivid fantastic dream; we awake to sober consciousness, +but still feel the reality of the vision. + +“But, ah! my friend, this truth created a hell within me. My mind +yielded to the noble father in every thing. He was right in the +fullest sense of the word. If I admired Juliet, and recognised her +worth, if she was my friend, and I sufficiently important to elevate +her mind, what had that to do with our passion and my efforts to +possess her? With this conviction I was now penetrated, and the +feeling exerted a benign influence over me. But how different were her +feelings! When such changes occur, women usually suffer from the +consuming fire of passion. What letters did I receive from her, when I +had communicated to her my resolution and the advice that we must +submit to necessity! I almost repeated the words which I had heard +from her beautiful lips when I urged my ardent attachment. She now +listened in a spirit different from that which harassed her formerly; +deaf to all advice, unsusceptible to every kindness, inaccessible to +conviction, she only listened to the wild suggestions of her ardent +affection. My reason seemed to her cowardice, my resignation baseness. +She alone was exclusively to be considered in the question that +agitated my heart. In short, she now played the same part that I had +done formerly. Looking back upon my former conduct with repentance and +shame, I hoped I should be able, by calm perseverance, to bring her +gradually to the same conviction. But she frustrated my hopes. It was +singular that I was made unhappy by possessing, in the fullest measure, +what I had formerly considered my supreme felicity; and that my most +fervent desire extended no further than to be able to restore her to +tranquillity, nay, even to produce coldness and indifference. + +“So whimsical are the gods frequently towards us in the bestowal of +their gifts. + +“My letters grieved her deeper and deeper, as she showed by her +replies. Thence it was that I could not but wish myself once more able +to obtain a _tête-à-tête_ with her in some evening hour, such as I had +formerly enjoyed over and over again. By bribery, entreaty, and +humiliation, I succeeded. + +“But, oh, Heavens! how different was this Juliet from her who once had +so enraptured and inspired me. With her grief, her mortified feelings +and her offended pride she resembled a raving Bacchante. On +approaching her, I said to myself: ‘To this state then has my love, +vanity, and eloquence, reduced her! Oh! ye men, who, by your power, +are able to elevate these tender beings to angels, or change them to +wild furies!’ But these reflections came too late. If her letters +were violent, her words were raging. Nothing in the whole world she +desired, except my love. She cared for nothing; every thing seemed +right and desirable,--flight into the open world, sacrifice of station, +mortification of her father and family. I was terrified at this +distraction, that seemed to fear and dread nothing. The more +persuasive my manner, and the more desirous I was to convince her of +the unavoidable necessity of submitting, the more furious in words and +gestures she became. She would fly with me immediately. I felt it +required nothing more than to express the wish, and she would have +surrendered herself, in this distraction, totally and unconditionally. +I was wretched from my inmost heart, indeed, all my energies were +annihilated. + +“I learned that the prince had only spoken to her in hints; the truth +was known to her only from our correspondence. She blamed me, her +father, and fate, and only became calm after a flood of tears. I was +obliged to promise to see her again in a few days in order to discuss +the means of her flight. Thus my feelings were so changed that I +feared this once adored Juliet, and, indeed, could not help despising +her. And yet she was the same, and only the unhappy passion that I had +infused from my heart into hers had rendered her thus infatuated, I +trembled again to see her. I was at a loss what to say, what pretext +for delay, or what excuses to invent. Thus some weeks passed, during +which we only exchanged letters. To conclude, I saw her again. She +seemed ill, but still in that excitement which would not listen to +reason. She had provided a carriage, packed up her jewels, made the +necessary preparations on the frontier, procured passports, and +powerful protections in distant countries; in short she had done all +that madness of an unbounded love could undertake. I treated her as an +invalid who does not know her own state, humoured all her +extravagances, and praised her most whimsical plans. Thus she thought +we agreed, and in a week we were to fly during a masquerade while all +were busied, and no one could be recognised. To satisfy her for the +moment I agreed to every thing, but proposed in my own heart to quit +the court and the town. While we were thus discussing our highly +reasonable projects I suddenly perceived behind us the prince, who had +been for sometime listening to our conversation. The scene which then +took place I will not attempt to describe. The father’s anger +overstepped all bounds on finding me untrue to my promise, since he was +convinced that I quite agreed to all the wild plans of his daughter. +She cast herself at his feet totally unlike the beautiful being she was +formerly, she resembled an automaton moved by powerful springs, a +figure only manifesting life in convulsive gestures. It is astonishing +that we ever outlive some moments. I was banished, obliged to fly into +solitude, and for a long time heard nothing of the city or what +occurred there, as I avoided all intercourse with men. When I in some +measure recovered my tranquillity of mind, and was able to bear the +sight of friends, I heard that she was suffering from an incurable +disease, and that her life was despaired of by the physician. How +whimsically does fate sport with man and all human intentions! I was +informed that her father in the extremity of grief, would willingly +have given me his beloved child had he been able thereby to save her; +that he would have despised the opinion of the world, and the +objections of his family, could he by these means have saved his +Juliet, by whose illness he had first learnt how much he loved her, and +how much his life was bound up in hers. All was in vain,--she died in +agonies, calling for me, and the disconsolate father heaped execrations +upon me that will overtake me, ay,--as surely as her own.” + +These are, as nearly as possible, the affecting confessions of my +unhappy friend. He added, in conclusion, that the whole of his +property would be lost, unless he discovered a certain document for +which he had long been searching, but which he could find nowhere. + +There are sufferings during which it is foolish to make even the +attempt at offering consolation. Such sufferings must be lived +through, they are peculiar to human nature, and he who is not +overwhelmed by them but survives them, will afterwards see that to pass +such a severe reprobation was essential to his happiness. + +“I am convinced,” said my friend a few days afterwards when I took +leave of him, “that these execrations and the prophesies of the old +fury will visit me. My life will be consumed in illness, misery, +delirium, and poverty. The spirit of the departed will tread in my +footsteps and sow poison, where, perhaps, some joy might otherwise have +sprung.” + +I began to comfort him, calling to my aid, hope and consolation from +every source, because such apprehensions are generally imaginary, and +may be combated. Hope is at least more infinite than the +all-engrossing sensation of such visionary fear. We separated, and for +a long time I heard nothing of my friend Francis. I lived in foreign +countries and returned some years after the period in question. + +We had not kept up any correspondence. I was therefore surprised and +delighted by his first letter which I received in my own comfortable +home. There was no allusion to his former sufferings; all was +forgotten. Time and fortune had transformed my friend into a truly new +being. He wrote to me of his approaching marriage. The most beautiful +girl of the country, young, cheerful, and innocent, had bestowed her +affections upon him; and on the very day on which their vows were +exchanged, he had, after years of fruitless search, discovered the +important document which would complete their nuptial happiness. The +melancholy time, he informed me, had vanished from his mind, his youth +seemed renewed, and now only he began to live. In a week his marriage +was to be celebrated, and he urged me to come and be a witness of his +happiness. + +It would have delighted me to have complied with his invitation, had +not my uncle, who lived forty miles distant, and was then lying on his +death-bed, called me from home. The prince, who bitterly hated and +persecuted my friend, had died in the meanwhile, so that, in all human +probability, there was the prospect that every thing ominous, menacing, +and fatal, would fade away and be forgotten, and that spirits of +fortune and delight would henceforth draw my friend’s car of life. + +My stay with my uncle, who was dying, was protracted. His sufferings +lasted longer than his physicians had expected, and I was glad that my +presence was so consoling and beneficial to him. After his death, I +had various business to transact, to execute his will, to make +arrangements with the remaining relatives, part of his fortune being +left to me, and to settle all to our mutual satisfaction. As journeys +were required for these matters, nearly eighteen months elapsed before +they were completed. The journeys had carried me far from our +neighbourhood, and I must confess that these circumstances, and the +pressure of business, had almost caused me to forget my friend Francis. +He had not written to me, nor had I heard any thing of him, and I was, +therefore, convinced that it was well with him; that he was married and +happy in his new condition. Being soon after near Switzerland, I made +a tour to that country, and then visited a watering place on the Rhine, +to which my medical adviser had long before recommended inc. + +Here I abandoned myself to amusements, enjoyed the beauties of nature +during my rambles, and felt happier than I had been for some time. +Being one day at the _table d’hôte_, I accidentally looked over the +list of visiters, and found that my friend Francis, with his wife, had +been a week in the town. I wondered he had not found me out, as my +name must have struck him in the list. However, I accounted for his +not doing so, by saying to myself that he had not looked over the +leaves attentively, that he had not heard my name mentioned, or that +possibly he might be seriously ill and would see no company. Satisfied +so far, I called upon him, and was told he was not at home. I hoped to +meet him in my walks, but perceived him nowhere. Calling the following +day, I received the same answer, that he had gone out. I left my card, +requesting he would pay me a visit or tell me when he would receive me. +I heard nothing from him. The next morning early, I called again, and +the servant again replied, with a troubled countenance, that his master +was already from home. + +Now I plainly saw, that Francis did not choose to see me, and had +denied himself. I endeavoured to call to my memory, whether I had at +any time given him offence; but, after the strictest scrutiny, could +not find the least spot on my conscience respecting him. I therefore, +wrote him rather a severe letter, requiring him to see me, and that not +merely from friendship to me, but from the respect he owed himself. + +When I called again, I was admitted, and having waited for some time in +the room, I saw a stranger approaching from the adjoining chamber, not +like a human being, but a tottering, trembling skeleton, with a pale, +sunken countenance, which, but for the fiery eye, one might have taken +for the face of a corpse. “Great God!” I exclaimed with horror, as I +recognised in this spectre my friend Francis, that once handsome, noble +fellow. + +I sank terrified into a chair, and he sat down by me, took my hand +between his withered fingers, and said, “Yes! my friend, thus we again +meet, and you now understand why I wished to spare you this sad sight. +Yes! friend, all those curses have been realised, and calamity has +overtaken me, however actively I endeavoured to escape it; my life is +exhausted by disease, as well as that of my youthful wife, once a +paragon of beauty; I am a beggar, and all hope is gone for ever.” + +Still I could not recover from my astonishment; the first chilling +terror was succeeded by the deepest compassion and ineffable sympathy +in my soul, and my unfortunate friend saw my tears flow. + +“But how has all this been possible?” I exclaimed, “Speak; confide all +to your friend.” + +“Spare me,” he said, in a faint voice, “let us throw a veil over these +calamities, for what good can it do you to know the why and wherefore? +You would not comprehend nor believe it, and still less could your +advice or consolation avail any thing.” + +I could make no reply, his distress seemed so great, that he was, +perhaps, right in what he said. Words, details, and complaints, are +often only stings to the deadly wound. I requested him to introduce me +to his wife. He led her in. She seemed to suffer equally with +himself, but still showed evident traces of beauty. She was of a tall, +noble figure, her blue eye was of a piercing clearness, and her +sweet-toned voice was full of soul. After some conversation, the +physician entered, and I took my leave, making it a condition, that in +future he would not refuse to see me. + +I required rest to collect myself, and, therefore, sought the most +solitary spot to arrange my thoughts and feelings. How strange, in +these moments, appeared human life, friendship, death, and health! In +these, my dreams, I was interrupted by a friendly voice addressing me. +It was the physician, an elderly, good-natured man, who sat down beside +me. “I have learned,” he began, “that you are a youthful friend of our +poor patient, and have sought you to consult with you, respecting his +lamentable and enigmatical state. I have never met with a similar +illness, I do not understand it, and, therefore, am but groping in the +dark with my remedies; nor do I know whether the waters here are +salutary to him or his sick wife, who seems wasting away from the same +complaint. I have no name for this wasting fever, which defies all +known remedies. Sometimes I could almost imagine them insane, did not +reason absolutely manifest itself. But even should their minds be +unimpaired, they are, doubtless, hypochondriacs. And the worst is, the +count will not communicate freely, but, on the contrary, anxiously +avoids all questions respecting his condition, and all inquiries as to +its cause and commencement. I do not wish to irritate him, though my +inquiries and questions have more than once had that effect, and yet it +seems necessary to learn from himself the history of his complaint. I +therefore request you, dear sir, to exert your influence with him, as +his friend, that he may confess to us the origin of his illness. If I +once knew this, it might, perhaps, be possible to afford relief to both +of them. If the disease is mental, of which I feel almost convinced, +the physician must be in their confidence to afford relief; but if this +is withheld, he may cause even death, not only by his prescriptions, +but by an unguarded word. I therefore conjure you to do all in your +power to make him confide every thing to you.” I promised all he +desired, for I had long entertained the same opinion. But when, on the +following day, I remonstrated with my friend, I found the task more +difficult than I expected, as he was inaccessible on that point. He +did not yield until I united tears to my entreaties, and his suffering +wife joined with me, as the hope arose within her that the physician +might be able to afford relief to her husband. He stipulated that +whatever he should communicate should be communicated in private to me +alone, undisturbed, and without even the presence of his wife, who +would be much pained at the relation. + +Thus was it arranged. My little room looking on the garden was so +quiet and retired, that no intrusion was to be feared, and after a +frugal supper I dismissed the servant, enjoining him not to admit any +one. The invalid countess was left with her attendants, and a lady of +my acquaintance kindly read some amusing work to her during her +husband’s absence. + +We sat then in my well lighted little room, while the summer breezes +murmured sweetly through the trees without. My sick friend was on the +sofa, and the physician and myself were opposite, when Francis began +slowly and with many pauses, (as speaking seemed painful to him) the +following narrative: + +“Yes, my friend, you see me again, ill and dying, and my wife, who but +two years since was a paragon of health and beauty, is no less +afflicted. The Klausenburg which more than once sheltered us so +hospitably is become a desolate ruin; storms and fire have destroyed +it, and whatever useful material remained was wrested from it by my +cruel creditors in derision, and sold for a mere trifle. You know, my +friend, the belief or rather superstition that followed me, but with +this I will not weary our good physician, as it had no sensible +influence on my immediate fate. I have moreover, so much of the +marvellous to tell in the recent events that have befallen me, that it +will be more than sufficient fully to convince the learned doctor that +I am insane. + +“Young as I was I had already resigned life, since I considered it +completely at a close. But as it frequently happens that the power of +a beautiful spring will revive a tree apparently lifeless, so that its +branches again become verdant, and at last one blossom springs from +them, so it happened with me. Travelling about in a misanthropical +mood I stopped in a small town situate in a delightful country, and +through my introductions made acquaintance with some interesting +people. One of these, a distant relative, who received me most kindly, +introduced me to his family, where, for the first time I saw my beloved +Elizabeth, and at the second visit I had lost my heart and peace of +mind. But wherefore dwell on charms that are fled? Suffice it to say +that I was enraptured, and flattered myself that my feelings were +understood, and might perhaps in a short time be returned. Elizabeth +was residing with an aged aunt; they were neither of them wealthy +though they belonged to an ancient family. I was superior to the talk +and astonishment of the townspeople, and I stayed a long while in this +insignificant place, where there was neither a theatre to amuse, nor +large assemblies, balls, and festivals to engage me. I was so happy +that I only lived for, and enjoyed, the present moment. The family was +very musical, and Elizabeth a truly accomplished performer on the piano +forte. Her voice was highly cultivated, full-toned, and beautiful, and +she agreeably surprised me by joining in my perhaps one-sided taste for +ancient composition. Harmony, skill, and kind looks from her beautiful +eyes,--all this so charmed me that weeks vanished like days, and days +like hours in the poetical intoxication. + +“I spoke of the family. The aunt too was musical, and accompanied us +when we sang. I also found myself benefited by becoming again +conscious of the talents which I had so long neglected to exercise. +Yes, indeed, talents, amiability, social gifts, and pleasing manners, +&c.”--continued Francis after a pause, during which he seemed lost in +thought--“the vanity of possessing these graces have rendered me and +others unhappy. Speaking of the family, I must now mention Ernestine, +an elder sister of my wife’s. Their parents had died early in life. +They had lived at a distance from that small town, in what is called +good style. This they did without considering their fortune, and the +consequence was that they became impoverished and involved in debt. +Where this confusion breaks in, where the necessity of the moment ever +absorbs the security of the days and weeks, few men possess sufficient +energy and resolution firmly to hold the rudder amid the tumult of a +returning storm. And thus the wildest and most confused management had +broken into this ruined household. The parents not only diverted +themselves in banqueting, dress, and theatres, but, as it were, even +with new and singular misfortunes. The latter were more particularly +caused by their eldest daughter, Ernestine. This poor being had, when +only three years old, during the confusion and bustle of a banquet, +unnoticed by any one, taken up a bottle of strong liquid, and drinking +it, became intoxicated by it, and thus had unconsciously fallen down a +high staircase. + +“The accident had scarcely been observed, and was lightly thought of +when discovered. The physician, a jovial friend of the family, instead +of applying the proper remedies, joked on the occurrence, and hence it +was that those consequences soon appeared in the child, which she +could, in after years, justly attribute to want of affection in her +parents. The chest-bone and spine were dislocated, so that as she grew +up, she became more and more deformed. Being rather tall, the double +hump was more striking, her arms and hands were excessively long and +thin, and her lean body quite out of proportion to her long legs. Her +face had a singular expression, the little lively and cunning eyes +could hardly peep forth from beneath the bony vault of her forehead and +the broad, flattened nose, the chin was peaked, and the cheeks were +sunken. Thus this unfortunate being was a remarkable foil to her +sister Elizabeth. Their aunt, when she heard the total ruin of the +family, had interfered and assisted them as far as her limited means +permitted. Thus the younger daughter was saved and continued healthy, +since the father’s sister had taken the children upon the death of +their parents, for the purpose of educating them. The physical care of +Ernestine came too late, but her mind was cultivated, and her talents +were awakened. She showed herself intelligent, learned with ease, and +retained what she had once acquired, evidently surpassing her sister in +wit and presence of mind. Being fond of reading philosophical works, +she exercised her judgment and showed so much acuteness, that she often +startled even men by her bold and abrupt opinions; not being united to +her own sex by beauty and grace, she not unfrequently exercised a more +than masculine power. But what almost seemed to border on the +marvellous was her great talent for music. Never had I heard the piano +forte played in such a perfect manner; every difficulty vanished before +her, and she only laughed when difficult passages were mentioned to +her. No doubt the extraordinary span of her hand and fingers assisted +her in excelling all that can be done by an ordinary hand. Being also +well versed in the art of composition, she composed with ease long +pieces of music which we often executed to her delight. + +“Could not such a being be happy independent of others? Certainly, if +she had resigned herself to her lot, if she could have forgotten she +was a woman. Unfortunately for her, all men forgot it who approached +her, but she could never raise herself beyond the limit so as to belong +to the other sex, or to none. + +“This singular being attracted me in a peculiar manner, both by her +excellencies and her repulsiveness. When they performed and I sang her +compositions, there beamed in moments of excitement from her small +eyes, a wonderful, poetic spirit, liked a veiled angel humbled in the +dust, with benign yet terrifying splendour. This frequently made me +forget that she was the sister of my Elizabeth. + +“Elizabeth had before refused some suitors who had earnestly courted +her. Entering once the anti-chamber unannounced, I heard both sisters +engaged in a lively conversation, in which my name was mentioned. ‘You +will not accept him, I hope,’ cried Ernestine; ‘he suits neither you +nor us; they say he is not very rich, but he is so proud, so +self-sufficient, so convinced of, and so penetrated with, his own +excellence, that he excites my indignation whenever he comes near us. +You call him amiable, noble; but I tell you he is dogmatical and +obstinate; and, believe me, his mental gifts are not so great as you +seem to think.’ + +“With a gentle voice Elizabeth undertook my defence, but her sister +discussed all the bad traits in my character so much the more, and +passed all my faults in review. Finding that I was the subject of so +much discussion, I would not surprise them by entering immediately, and +thus I discovered, against my expectation, the dislike the eldest +sister entertained for me. I therefore resolved to reconcile this +unfortunate being, for whom life had so few charms and joys, by +kindness and benevolence. When they had ceased I entered, and the aunt +also joining us we immediately commenced our musical exercises, by +which means I could best conceal my embarrassment. + +“After a few visits I actually succeeded in disposing Ernestine more +kindly towards me. When it happened that we were alone, we were deeply +engaged in serious conversation, and I could not help admiring both her +mind and acquirements. I could not but agree with her, when she often +spoke with contempt of those men who only esteem and love in woman the +transient and mutable charms that pass away with their youth. She was +also fond of railing at those girls who so frequently pass themselves +off as phenomena, and only, as it were, wish to please as dolls of +fashion and well-dressed blocks. She revealed without affectation the +wealth of her mind, her deep feeling, and her lofty thoughts, so that, +in admiration of her mighty soul, I hardly remembered her deformed +person. She pressed my hand kindly, and seemed perfectly happy when we +had thus chatted an hour away. I was not less rejoiced when I +perceived how her friendship for me apparently increased every day. + +“It struck me as a weakness in my beloved, that she was displeased at +our intimacy. I did not understand this petty jealousy, and censured +it when alone with her, as showing too much female weakness. On the +other hand, I was pleased when Ernestine gave me evident proofs of her +friendship, when my appearance delighted her, when she was ready to +show me a book or piece of music, or told me how she had prepared +herself for a conversation with me on some important subject. This +genuine friendship seemed to me so desirable, that I anticipated great +delight at the thought that she would, in our married state, complete +the measure of our love by mutual confidence. Their aunt approved of +my engagement with Elizabeth, and our vows were exchanged. On this +occasion Ernestine was not present, being confined by illness to her +chamber. I did not see her on the day following, and when I wished to +call on her, my betrothed said, ‘Do not disturb her, dear friend, she +is not quite herself, and it is better to let her passion subside.’ +‘What has happened?’ I asked, astonished. ‘It is strange,’ replied +Elizabeth, ‘that you have not, long ere this, remarked how ardently she +loves you?’ I was struck dumb with terror and astonishment at this +information, which startled me the more, since, strange to say, I had +considered this intellectual being totally incapable of love; as though +passion did not always run counter to possibility, truth, nature, and +reason, if these opposed themselves, as, indeed, I had myself +experienced in my own life in a similar manner. ‘Yes,’ continued +Elizabeth, ‘almost at the very time you entered our house, I remarked +her partiality to you, but her predilection manifested itself more +decidedly, when you began to show a preference for me, when you became +more friendly, and thus gained my confidence. For a long time, she +concealed her affection under a pretended dislike, which, however, did +not deceive me. Oh! beloved, the mind and feelings, the enthusiasm and +passions of this singular being possess such extraordinary power and +intensity, that I have been compelled ever since I comprehended her +character, to admire her as much as to fear her, and to stand in awe at +her gigantic intellect. When, some years ago, I took lessons in music, +and made rapid progress, according to the testimony of my instructor, +she only ridiculed my childlike satisfaction as she called it. She had +never before thought of learning music, and now devoted herself with +all her energy to this accomplishment. She practised day and night, +and her master no longer satisfying her, she availed herself of the +presence of a celebrated composer, and became his pupil. I could not +comprehend the mental as well as physical energy, with which she +devoted herself unceasingly, almost without sleep and refreshments, and +with unwearied zeal to the practice of this art. It was then she +learned composition and gained her master’s praise and admiration. It +was not long, however, before she found fault with him, fancying his +execution not sufficiently fiery and enthusiastic, his compositions not +sufficiently original and impassioned. He submitted, and agreed with +her. All men, she used to say, lie constantly in a half-sleeping +state, being almost always, as it were, in a stupor, similar to the +plant which grows, blooms, and is beautiful, diffusing odour, and +possessing powers, without consciousness. What would men accomplish +were they truly awake in their wakeful state? And so she devoted +herself to philosophy, reading works on medicine, anatomy, and other +subjects, which are usually too abstruse and distasteful to her sex. +We, as well as her acquaintance, could not help being astonished at +her. And thus, dear Francis, she will certainly become insane in this +passion of love, and destroy her own peace of mind. + +“Elizabeth now also described to me all the extravagances she committed +when she heard of our engagement; at first, she intended to destroy +both herself and sister; then again she said she knew how to conquer +me, so that I should love her and abandon Elizabeth, whom she excelled +both in goodness and intellect. + +“I was naturally grieved at this news, feeling full well how +imprudently I had acted in making such friendly advances to Ernestine, +in my endeavours to reconcile her. I was somewhat relieved, when, a +few days afterwards, Elizabeth told me that her sister had apologised +with tears for what she had spoken in anger, that she had conjured her +not to communicate to me any thing of these aberrations, and only +implored her to be allowed to accompany us to our future residence, as +she could not possibly live without the company of her sister and +myself, without our conversation and our music. + +“Now plans and preparations were made, and the aunt accompanied us to +the Klausenburg, to celebrate, with a few friends, our nuptials in +quiet, as Elizabeth had always been excessively averse from pomp and +display. I had had a few apartments and the ball-room prepared, as far +as it was possible, the greater part of the castle being in ruins. But +Elizabeth had a poetical predilection for old castles, solitary +mountainous countries, and the historical legends connected with them. +After the wedding, we intended to take up our residence in a new house +not far distant, and only occasionally to spend a few days or hours in +the Klausenburg. + +“We arrived; the gate was opened to us, and the first object that met +our view in the court-yard, from amidst the ivy that twined the high +walls, was the old mad Sibyl, whom you, my friend, knew some years ago. +My wife was terrified, and I shuddered. ‘Welcome! Welcome!’ cried the +old hag, jumping about with wild gestures; ‘there comes the destroyer, +the woman murderer, and brings his two brides with him, whom he will +murder also.’ ‘How do you come here?’ I exclaimed. The porter +replied, ‘She must have climbed down the other side of the cliffs, +which form the extreme wall of the small garden, and must have +concealed herself among the shrubs and ruins.’ ‘You are right, you are +right,’ screamed the old hag, ‘it is pleasant to live there.’ +Terrified as we were, Ernestine seemed merry, for she did not cease +laughing. + +“During the days on which we celebrated the festival, Ernestine did not +appear; she had vanished; and being anxious about her, we despatched +people in search of her, when, on the third day, she returned on foot, +merry and in high spirits. She told us she had not been able to +withstand the inclination to roam about in the mountains, as she always +had had a desire to do so. ‘But thus alone, without informing us?’ +said Elizabeth. ‘Alone!’ she replied, ‘No! I have kept constant +company with that old prophetess whom you so unkindly sent away. There +I have learnt many things quite new, that I never even read of, and we +have become very good friends.’ + +“We looked at her with astonishment. I formed an idea without +expressing it, that Ernestine was mad. So awful and ominous was her +return to our residence, such sad forebodings crowded in our minds, +that, in spite of my happiness, I felt no confidence on life, and +Elizabeth could not regain her cheerfulness. + +“In other respects we were reconciled, and enjoyed the present moment, +and the beauty of the surrounding woods and mountains. Our few guests, +as well as the aunt, had left us, and we might have lived contented and +in happy union in this delightful solitude, had I not observed that my +wife avoided her sister as much as circumstances permitted. When I +asked her the reason of this, she answered after some hesitation: +‘Dearest, I am terrified at Ernestine; she has become quite malicious, +though formerly she had not the least disposition that way. Whenever +she can vex me, spoil any thing, or even expose me to danger, so that I +may be startled, stumble, or even fall; or if any stones fall in my way +she shows the most malicious joy, as she did when she lately set the +curtains of my bed on fire by bringing the candle too near them. She +has told me laughing, that the country people talk of travellers and +rangers having seen two spectres by moonlight, or in the morning-dawn +in the lonely parts of the forests, whom they describe as terrible +hideous beings; that these were herself and the old gipsy, and that she +only wished that the circumstance might appear in print, in order that +she, with her own signature, Ernestine Fräulein von Jertz, might +contradict the story of ghosts, and state that she was one of the +imagined spirits. Is not all this terrible?’ + +“‘Dear child,’ said I, ‘I must now tell you, in confidence, that I +believe she is mad.’ + +“‘Is any malice, when it becomes a passion, any thing but madness?’ +remarked Elizabeth, very naturally. + +“On the approach of autumn we left the Klausenburg to take possession +of our new house, for, to my terror, I discovered a disposition to +melancholy in my wife, for which our solitude seemed any thing but +beneficial. While we were once walking through the ancient apartments +and the gothic hall, which was in tolerable preservation, and our +footsteps echoed in the solitary room, my wife started with a sudden +shudder. I asked the reason. + +“‘Oh! it is awful here,’ she replied, trembling; ‘I feel as if +invisible spectres haunted this place.’ I was terrified, and the +thought that my wife’s mind, like that of her sister, might perhaps +have suffered, stared at me like a monster. + +“When residing in our new house, we often missed Ernestine, and on +inquiry, found that she staid in the Klausenburg and the ruins of the +old castle. Although we had been living on an unpleasant footing, +still my wife, as well as myself, could not help wishing her with us +when she was away. But how different was my life from that which I had +once pictured to myself when I courted Elizabeth! + +“Other domestic calamities united with our sufferings to increase our +grief. That document, which, really constituted my fortune and +supported my existence, which proved that large sums were paid, and +some still owing to me, as well as all the deeds and papers which had +been produced as proofs after the death of Count Moritz,--all these +important papers which I had discovered after a long troublesome +search, and had in my hands but a short time before, had again +disappeared. I had always kept them carefully locked up, and it was my +intention to travel to town and deliver them to my solicitor in person, +as on them the recovery of my estates depended. They were gone; and +much as I meditated and reflected, I could not discover, nor even find +a trace of the way in which they had been purloined. When at length I +communicated my anxiety to my wife, she did not seem surprised, and +told me calmly, ‘Can you still doubt? I have no doubt as to what has +become of them. Ernestine has profited by some moment of your absence +when you might have left your escritoire open, or some other +forgetfulness, to take the papers away.’ + +“‘Not possible!’ I cried with horror. ‘Possible?’ she repeated. ‘What +is impossible to her?’ + +“As these documents were wanting, our long standing law-suit proceeded +but slowly, and I felt sure that I must lose it whenever it was +decided. I therefore availed myself of an opportunity which the court +afforded me, by proposing to quash it, that I might defer the decision +to some future period. Still I could not help questioning Ernestine +and informing her of my suspicions. I was horrorstruck at the manner +in which she heard me communicate a suspicion, which would have shocked +any innocent mind. When I had overcome my embarrassment and had +concluded, she burst out in such laughter that I lost all composure. +Recovering again, I urged her to reply, but she only said, with a +sarcastic coldness, ‘My dear brother-in-law, there are here only two +cases possible, as you must yourself see, notwithstanding your +short-sightedness, namely, that I am either guilty or innocent. Is it +not so? If I have committed the robbery, I must have been induced by +weighty reasons, or goaded to such an act by malice, or something else. +And then I ought to say: yes! I have done it, pray do not take it +amiss. Now you must confess that this would be more than stupid. If I +were a fool I might have done it without any particular intention,--may +be to light the kitchen fire with them; or because I was pleased with +the red seals, and might now say: there, take these pretty papers back, +considering they have some value for the dear count. But a fool I have +not been up to this moment; and if I am malicious, I am of course not +silly enough to confess the deed. Or again, assuming the second case +that I am innocent, then you, sir brother-in-law (pray don’t contradict +me), are the simpleton for putting such unbecoming questions to me.’ + +“I could not answer the spectral being. When I saw that Elizabeth no +longer took any pleasure in playing the piano that I procured from +abroad in our retirement, and asked the reason of it, she said, sadly, +‘Dearest, if I do not wish to incur deadly vexation, I must no longer +play.’ ‘How so?’ ‘Because Ernestine has flatly forbidden me. She +says that in a house where there lives such an accomplished pianist as +herself, she could not allow any one else even to strike a note.’ This +presumption was too much for my patience. I ran to her chamber and +asked her ironically to play me something, since she would not allow +any one else to touch the instrument. She followed me, laughing +loudly; and truly she played in such a masterly style, that my anger +was turned into admiration and rapture. ‘Well!’ she said, gravely, +when she had finished, ‘one may have in one’s own house all enjoyments +for which connoisseurs would travel fifty miles, and yet one can be +satisfied with such bungling and such hammering up and down the keys +with clumsy fingers. Oh! fools and idiots, who, rogues as they are, +talk of art and only mean vapour; they can only sip the nectar, and the +wonderful becomes but trash in their rude hands. If I did not feel a +constant disgust for life, if men were not repulsive to me, I should +never cease laughing.’ From that time she often joined in our music, +at most permitting Elizabeth and myself to sing, though she maintained +that we possessed neither school nor method. Thus the winter passed +away. I was already poor, and with the prospect of being reduced quite +to beggary; Elizabeth was sickly, and the serenity of my life was gone. + +“It was almost to be called a relief to our existence, when on the +approach of spring, Ernestine became ill, and was shortly so much worse +that she could not leave her bed. She grew more irritable as her +illness increased, and nothing vexed her more than that she could not +visit the Klausenburg, of which she had become so fond. One warm day I +sent her in the carriage, she searched long in the rooms, loitered +among the shrubs and ruins, and returned much worse than before. It +was now evident that she could not recover. The physician said that he +could not understand her disease, nor the state of the sufferer, for +the vital powers were so strong in her that all the symptoms usually +indicating death did not show themselves, and there was a probability +of her speedy recovery; in a few days, however, he gave up all hope. + +“We now really looked forward to a quieter future. Although we felt +pity for the unhappy being, yet we could not deny that she had a +disturbing effect on our life and the happiness of our love. We heard +that she was near death, but as she had arranged with her doctor and +nurse that we should not disturb her we had kept away. All of a sudden +she much desired to see me, but requested that Elizabeth should not be +present. I went and said as I entered: ‘Dear friend, you will +doubtless be kind enough to give me back the documents which you took +from my escritoire to vex me.’ She looked at me significantly with her +dying eyes, which now seemed larger and sparkled brighter than +formerly. There was something so singular, bright and glaring in her +look, that any one having witnessed it would never wish to see any +thing more terrible and inconceivable. After a pause she said: +‘Brother, do these foolish trifles still occupy your head? Yet it is +no wonder, every one lives as he can. Sit down, my friend,’ she +continued, with an air of contempt; I complied and sat down by her bed. + +“‘You fancy,’ she now began in a repulsive, cutting tone, ‘you will get +rid of me; but do not deceive yourself by flattering yourself too soon +with such an idea. Death, life, non-existence, continuation! what +useless, unmeaning words! When I had scarcely passed my childhood, I +could not help laughing at men, if I saw them fretting about continued +existence after death. They drag in and heap up like towers, proof +after proof, probabilities and wishes, entreaties, prayers, and the +mercy of the Almighty; they talk of many fine talents which cannot on +this side of the grave, as they call it, be possibly perfected, much +less brought to maturity,--and all these preparations are but to hush +their base cowardice and fear of death. Poor wretches! If I collect +myself, become conscious of my various energies in every direction, and +then call to eternity, to the Creator and the millions of spirits of +the past and the future, I will be immortal! I _will!_--what more is +necessary, and what omnipotence can interfere to destroy my eternal, +almighty will? What further security of being immortal and eternal +does the man want who has any consciousness? How, and in what manner, +that is another question. What farce we shall then play, what mask, +what party-coloured wig, what gibbous labyrinth of entrails we shall +then possess, what etiquette and court taste of ugliness and beauty +will then be introduced, is uncertain. But, my good friends, as my own +power, without any thing more, preserves me immortal, the same energy +and free-will may bring me back to you whenever and as often as I like. +Believe me, ye fools, the spectres, as you call them, are not exactly +the worst or weakest spirits. Many a one would fain return, but he has +as little individual character _there_ as _here_, and hence the +impossibility of doing so. And to you,--you paragon, rogue, vain, +amiable character, full of talents, you bud of virtue, you barterer of +beauty, whom I was compelled to love so intensely, yea, compelled +despite of my inmost soul, which told me that you did not deserve +it,--to you, smooth skinned, straight grown, human animal, I shall ever +be quite near, believe me. For this love and jealousy, this rage after +you and your breathing, and conversation, will urge me to the earth, +and this will be, as the pious would say, my purgatory. Therefore, no +leave-taking; we shall meet again!’[1] Thus saying she offered me her +cold, dead hand. + +“When life was extinct I returned to Elizabeth, but took care not to +communicate any thing of the frantic ravings of the deceased, as her +nerves were already excited by great anxiety, and she often suffered +from spasms. + +“We now lived in still retirement in a rural solitude which, in spite +of our reduced finances, might have become delightful had I not +remarked that the morbid and melancholy mood of Elizabeth was on the +increase. She became pale and wasted, and I often found her weeping +when entering her chamber unexpectedly. When I asked her the reason of +this, she told me she knew not herself what was the matter with her, +that she always felt sorrowful without being able to say why; that when +she was alone she felt quite awed, it seemed so terrible to her that +her sister had been obliged to end her existence in such a frantic +passion, and that often when entering or sitting alone in her chamber +it was as if Ernestine stood near her; she fancied she heard her +singing, felt her breath, and her looks appeared to force themselves +through the empty air. + +“I quieted her, left her rarely by herself, read to her, we took walks +together, and sometimes paid visits to our acquaintance in the +neighbourhood. As she became calmer she recovered by degrees her +naturally beautiful complexion. Feeling once unwell and lying +comfortably stretched out on the sofa, while she was reading an +interesting story to me, I said, how beautiful and melodious is your +voice; will you not sing again for once? For a long time you have not +opened your music books, your instrument is locked, and your beautiful +fingers will at length become quite stiff. + +“‘You know,” she replied, ‘that a few months ago my sister flatly +forbade me to practise music; we were obliged to concede to her ill +health and thus I have become quite out of practice.’ + +“‘Sing now,’ I cried, ‘the delight will be the greater to me for its +novelty.’ + +“We looked out a cheerful, pleasing piece of music, to avoid any thing +melancholy, and Elizabeth poured forth, with a truly heavenly voice, +the clear light tones, which thrilled bliss into my heart. Suddenly +she stopped, and was again seized with that violent hysteric fit of +weeping which had so often terrified me. ‘I cannot,’ she cried, deeply +moved, ‘all these sounds rise up before me like fiends; I always feel +my sister quite near me, her dress rustling against mine, and her anger +terrifies me.’ I felt clearly that my peace of mind as well as hers +was destroyed. + +“Our physician, a very judicious man, and a friend of ours, when she +confessed all these feelings, her trembling, and the anxiety which +almost incessantly preyed on her and undermined her health, applied +every remedy to calm her, physically and mentally. This honest and +judicious persuasion had a good effect, and his medicines proved +salutary. When summer came we were much in the open air. We were once +taking a drive to the estate of an acquaintance who told us that he +intended to give a musical festival, composed of friends and some +virtuosi. My wife’s great talent for music being known, we were +invited, and she promised to play and sing; being then surrounded by +strangers, flattered by both sexes and in a cheerful mood. I was the +more rejoiced at this as our physician made it a part of his advice +that she should forcibly combat these gloomy feelings and this +hypochondriacal anxiety. She determined to follow his advice. Very +pleased and rejoiced, we returned to our humble residence. Elizabeth +with spirit went through the difficult pieces of music, and the idea +that she might in this way, perhaps, recover her youthful vigour +delighted me. + +“A few days after this, while I was reading a letter, that had just +arrived, the door was suddenly burst open, and Elizabeth rushed in, +deadly pale, and fell as if dead in my arms. ‘What is the matter?’ I +cried, seized with horror. Her eye wandered wildly round, her heart +palpitated almost to bursting, and she was some time before she +regained her voice and breath. + +“‘Oh! heavens,’ she at length exclaimed, every word being expressive of +horror, ‘in there, while I practised--in a cheerful mood--I accidently +cast a look in the glass--and I saw behind me Ernestine looking at me +with that strange smile, and having her withered arms folded across her +chest. I know not whether she is still there, I hardly know how I +reached here.’ + +“I gave her in charge of her maid; she retired, and the doctor was +immediately sent for. I went into the other room, and found the music +books scattered under the instrument. Elizabeth must have thrown them +down in her fright. + +“‘Of what avail are reasoning, joke, and consolation, diet and +medicines against perfect madness,’ said I to myself, and yet I could +not help thinking of the words with which her dying sister had +threatened us. + +“The news of my wife having been taken ill reached our friend’s ears, +and was likely to prevent the musical festival taking place. His wife +came a few days afterwards with a female singer to inquire after +Elizabeth’s health. Not having said any thing, even to the doctor, of +the apparition which my wife imagined she had seen, we of course did +not mention this singular circumstance to our visiters. To all +appearances my wife having quite recovered from her fright, we walked +in our small garden with our friends conversing about the festival, and +the baroness and the singer at length proposed to practise some music +in my wife’s presence, that they might have her opinion, though she +might not perhaps be able to join. + +“We therefore returned to the drawing-room, and as it became dark, +candles were lighted. The singer sat at the instrument to accompany +herself, on her right was the baroness, I was just behind, and my wife +was on her left. We could not help admiring the voices and the style +of the singers. The music by degrees became more animated and +impassioned, and I had once already omitted turning the page, when, +just as the next leaf was played, a long bony finger appeared on it, +quickly turned the leaf at the right time, and the melody proceeded. I +looked round and beheld the terrible Ernestine standing close by me +behind the baroness; I know not how I kept my composure, but I looked +searchingly and almost unmoved at the terrific apparition. She smiled +at me with that malicious expression which, even when living, made her +countenance repelling. She wore her usual dress, her eyes were fiery, +and her face was white as chalk. I felt almost a satisfaction in the +gloomy sensation of awe, remained silent, and was glad that Elizabeth +did not perceive the spirit. Suddenly there was a shriek of terror, +and my wife fell fainting on the ground, while the withered finger was +just going again to turn the page. The music of course ended, my wife +was in a fever, and our friends who had not seen the spectre returned +home.” + +Here the invalid paused. The physician looked significantly at me, +shaking his head. + +“And you have,” he at length said, “never before told your present +doctor any thing of that apparition.” + +“No,” replied Francis, “you may call it shame, or fear of his cold, +searching understanding; you may call it weakness or what you please; +suffice it to say I could not prevail on myself to make this +confession.” + +“But it was very necessary,” said the physician, “for how could he +judge correctly of your illness without that information?” + +“From that time,” resumed Francis in a faint voice, “we determined to +quit the neighbourhood in hopes that the furious spectre would not +follow us beyond the mountains. But while we continued in our house we +often saw her, mostly in the music-room. Our doctor being with us one +morning, he sat down to the instrument and played some passages +extempore. Suddenly the terrible spectre again stood by my wife’s +chair, and laid her cold withered hand on her shoulder. Hysterics and +faintings again followed.” + +“And did your doctor see it also?” + +“No,” said Francis, “she appeared behind him, but I saw her distinctly +then, as I often did afterwards by broad daylight. We had only to +touch the keys of the instrument when she immediately appeared, so that +to strike a note was a summons. When I once revisited the ancient +Klausenburg, I found her sitting upon a stone staring at me. Thus +persecuted, terrified, and in constant fear and anxiety, we have become +ripe for death, and the physician despairing of our recovery advised us +at last to visit this watering-place, as a last resource for restoring +our shattered health. But hitherto we have not found any beneficial +result. And who can assure us that the spectre may not here haunt us +also. She intends to destroy us, and the most inconceivable things are +possible to her strong will. I believe we need only sing an air, or +play a sonata even at this distance, and she would make her appearance.” + +“I will answer for that, count,” cried the doctor in a firm voice, “our +faculty knows how to keep such malicious spirits at a distance.” + +Here our conversation ended; we sent the patient home in a sedan chair +to his hotel, and I accompanied the physician. + +While walking in the quiet of night through the dark avenues of trees, +he said to me, “Dear sir, we are too much excited to sleep, favour me +with your company to my lodging; a powerful aromatic cardinal[2] will +keep up our spirits, and I will there tell you my opinion respecting +our two invalids, of whose recovery, after what I have heard, I no +longer doubt. I would almost promise that in two months I shall send +them home in tolerably good health.” + +I was astonished at this, as I had given up all hope of the recovery of +my friends. Our strongly-spiced beverage much enlivened us; and the +doctor continued: “The mental disease of your friend is to me one of +the most interesting psychological phenomena that has ever passed under +my observation. He, as well as his wife, are labouring under a +singular madness; and if we once succeed in attacking it rightly, then, +in weakening, and finally in eradicating it altogether, the physical +recovery will follow of itself. Though I did not know your friend +formerly, yet, from his communications, I can exactly and truly +construe his character and fate. He is naturally good and tender, the +latter rather preponderating; and, like most men of this disposition, +is more subject to vanity than those of firmer character. He has been +handsome and amiable, possessed of talents, and persuasive manners, and +has, therefore, been everywhere well received, so that, being a general +favourite, and naturally pliant, he may have turned the head of many a +pretty girl. Meeting, at last, with his beautiful wife, he determined +to change his condition, and her naturally sensitive and nervous nature +was delighted to call so amiable a gentleman her husband. And, as +usually happens to enthusiasts, so is it in this case; they do not find +in matrimony that transcendant felicity which they anticipated; a +slight discord takes possession of the tender cords of the nerves, +which impatiently look forward to new vibrations. The ugly, deformed +sister felt, like most persons of the sort, jealousy and envy against +the preferred, flattered, and fondled wife. She plainly showed her +indignation, and confessed that she hated the count. This amiable +conqueror of hearts now employed all his art to overcome this hatred. +He succeeded, and the poor deluded creature even fancied that she had +excited his affection, while his vanity exulted in the triumph. This +heartlessness could not but mortify and shock the unfortunate +Ernestine. An inward rage consumed her, she fell a victim to her +unfortunate passion; and, dying, she uttered the menace to persecute +them in every possible way. This is plainly madness. This madness, as +has often been observed, is hereditary, and relations, brothers, +sisters, and children, are seized with it whenever it is manifested in +a member of the family. So in the case of your friend. Perhaps the +affectionate count has not been quite silent on the subject to his +wife; and she, being already in a delicate state, has indulged these +fancies, and with anxious curiosity pursues the gloomy feelings +produced by her nerves. Thus, what is more natural than that she +should soon find an occasion on which she fancied she really saw her +sister? The fears of his wife were communicated to him, anguish of +mind at his misfortunes heated his imagination, and he also sees the +apparition. Thus they go on, until both have nearly destroyed +themselves by a mere phantom. If we can dissipate this phantom, they +may be restored to health.” + +“Dear doctor,” I replied, “I know not whether I have a particular +propensity for superstition, but your reasons do not satisfy me. Much +that has been handed down, both by tradition and writing, on this +curious subject, cannot be mere fancy or invention, however much our +reason may be opposed to it. There are, no doubt, states of the mind +and of the nerves, as well as diseases, during which certain persons +see what is veiled from all others. What is spirit? What notions does +this word suggest? Do we know the nature, talent, or power, which +these millions of differently constituted souls possess, after having +shaken off their earthly frame? Do we know by what possibility this or +that strong mind, by the power of his will, or anxious repentance, or a +secret tormenting yearning after home, forms from his imagination a +visible frame, such as he used to wear?” + +“And supposing you to be quite right, what would you profit by it?” +exclaimed the zealous doctor. “If any one who is in a discontented +mood, or state of excitement, sees any thing, it is, indeed, only and +always his own fancies, his own internal phases, which appear before +his bodily eye. This may happen to any one at times. We have in the +morning a vivid dream; we certainly awake, and still, for a moment, we +see the child for whom we yearned, the lily or rose which delighted us, +or an old friend who is a hundred miles distant. Perhaps it never yet +happened that, to one of the many ghost-seers, his aged father or +grandfather appeared as a youth or bridegroom, the murderer as a boy in +his innocence, the wild spectre of an aged prisoner as a blooming +virgin. Why, then, do not these spectres, for once, change their +shape?” + +“Because,” rejoined I, “they perhaps can express their imagination only +in the last state immediately preceding their change.” + +“Ah! this is idle,” exclaimed the doctor, impatiently; “yield the point +quietly rather than vainly endeavour to refute me. Assist me rather in +restoring your friend.” + +“In what way can I do so?” + +“It is only by some violent means that a happy beginning can be made. +Believe me, in the deepest recesses of our minds there are still +growing some weeds of vanity, concerning which we fondly deceive +ourselves, by fancying that the external surface is the proper soil for +them to luxuriate in. Even in moments of terror, in the horror of +death, or during tormenting disease, we are tickled by the +consciousness that, notwithstanding these, we experience something +apart--that we see apparitions which awaken anxiety. Nay, we go +further; we wish them back again, and as it were call them forth; our +plastic and pliant nature, and our almost inconceivable fancy obey, and +again such a bugbear is conjured up. Assist me then in persuading and +disposing our invalid to have music in the count’s or your own +apartments; let us procure an instrument, and as the countess cannot +sing, she will at least play. That they may not cause an excitement, +should they again be seized by this mania, no one but yourself and I +must be present, or at most her attendant in case of a relapse. But it +will not happen in my presence, as I shall have my quick eyes +everywhere. By these means our patients will gain confidence and +tranquillity, and by a daily repetition, and the use of stronger +remedies we shall cure their wild fancies.” + +“And if not?” I replied, with anxious doubt. + +“Well then, by heavens!” he replied, with a loud laugh, “if I, without +having previously taken too much, see any thing, then--” + +“Then?” + +“Then, baron, you shall call me a fool, which, viewed in the proper +light, we are all by nature.” + +Thus we parted, and it required much persuasion to prevail upon my +afflicted friend to consent to our experiment. His wife, to my +astonishment was more easily persuaded. She said, not without reason, +“I feel it, my life is drawing to a close, all help is vain, the nearer +death is, the better. So much the better if a new terror can crush me +like a stroke of lightning. And if the event which I anticipate does +not take place, then my last days will at least be free from this fear +and anxious horror; I shall be able to amuse and divert myself, and it +remains in the hand of Omnipotence whether I and my husband shall have +further hope of recovery.” + +The third day was fixed upon for music, and a late hour in the evening +was appointed, because the countess, like most persons suffering from +fever felt it strongest at that time, and would thereby shorten the +night, as she seldom slept till morning. An instrument had been placed +in the room; more lights than were required were burning, and the +adjoining chamber likewise was brilliantly lighted, in order that no +doubtful shadow might be produced in the dark. Besides the easy chair +and sofa in the sitting-room, there was a couch, on which the countess +reposed in the day. The piano was placed against the wall, between two +windows, looking over the garden and some vineyards beyond. After tea, +the door being locked, the waiter and servant were dismissed; no one +remained but the countess’s attendant, a strong young woman, whom we +begged to keep up her spirits. + +The countess took her seat at the instrument. The doctor stood beside +her, in order to observe her, as well as to overlook both rooms, while +I sat and stood alternately on the other side. Francis, in his +morning-gown and slippers, walked slowly up and down behind us, and the +attendant leaned against the open chamber-door. + +At first the countess played faintly, uncertainly, and timidly. But by +degrees the beauty of the composition, and the consciousness of her +talent inspired her, and she played with precision and fire a humorous +and melodious fantasia. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed, +and a smile, full of soul, played upon her once beautiful mouth. The +doctor cast a triumphant glance at me, and by the strong light, the +mien and feature of every one in the room were distinctly visible. All +praised the performer, and the doctor gave her something to revive her. +She was as if inspired with new life, and confessed that she had not +felt so well for the last year. Poor Francis was in raptures, and his +tearful eyes were full of hope. + +With the same arrangement we proceeded to the second piece, while she +played still more confidently, and with less exertion. Bravos and +applause accompanied her--when suddenly--a terrible shriek was +heard--how shall I describe it? Never were my ears rent by such +terrific sounds--it was some time after that I perceived that Francis +had uttered it--the candles burned with a blue flame, but yet there was +light enough.--And what a spectacle!--Francis, with foaming mouth, and +eyes starting from their sockets, was clasping a horrible spectre; and +wrestled with the withered hideous form. “You or I,” he now cried, and +it clasped him with its bony arms so firmly, pressed its crooked +deformed body so strongly against his, and its pale face so firmly +against his chest, that we all heard how in this struggle his bones +were crashing. The attendant had hastened to assist the countess, who +had fainted. The doctor and myself approached the count, just as he +threw the spectre with gigantic force on the couch, which creaked under +her. He stood erect. It lay on the couch like a cloud, like a dark +cover, and as we approached, it was gone. + +Francis now felt all his bones broken, his last strength was +annihilated. In three days he was no more, and the physician found his +body much bruised. The countess never recovered from her state of +delirium, and two days afterwards she followed her beloved and +unfortunate husband to his early grave. + +C. A. F. + + +[1] It is not impossible that this extraordinary speech may be intended +for an exposition of the doctrine of Fichte.--J. O. + +[2] A beverage usually prepared of wine, brandy, sugar, and +pine-apples, or other fruit. + + + + +THE MOON. + +BY JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. + +When, Oh Eugenius and Rosamond,--you, whom I may no longer designate by +your right names,--I was first about to tell your short history, my +friends and I walked into an English garden.[1] We went by a +new-painted coffin, on the foot-board of which was written: “I pass +away.” Above the verdant garden rose a white obelisk, with which two +sister-princesses had marked the spot where they now met and embraced, +and the inscription on which was: “Here we have found each other +again.” The point of the obelisk was glittering in the full moon, and +here I told my simple story. But do thou, gentle reader, draw--which +is as much as coffin and obelisk--draw, I say, the inscription on the +coffin into the ashes of oblivion, and write the letters of the obelisk +with pure human heart’s blood in thy inmost self. + +Many souls drop from heaven like flowers; but, with their white buds, +they are trodden down into the mud, and lie soiled and crushed in the +print of a hoof. You also were crushed, Eugenius and Rosamond. Tender +souls like yours are attacked by three robbers of their joys--the mob, +whose rough gripe gives to such soft hearts nothing but scars; destiny, +which does not wipe away the tear from a fair soul full of brilliancy, +but the lustre should perish also, as we do not wipe a wet diamond, +lest it should grow dim; your own hearts which rejoice too much, and +enjoy too little, have too much hope, and too little power of +endurance. Rosamond was a bright pearl, pierced by anguish--parted +from all that belonged to her, she only quivered in her sorrows like a +detached twig of the sensitive plant at the approach of night--her life +was a quiet warm rain and that of her husband was a bright lost +sunshine. In his presence she averted her eyes, when they had just +been fixed on her sick child, that was only two years old, and was in +this life a wavering thin-winged butterfly, beneath a pelting shower. +The imagination of Eugenius, with its too large wings shattered his +slight, delicate frame; the lily bell of his tender body could not +contain his mighty soul; the place whence sighs originate, his breast, +was destroyed like his happiness. He had nothing left in the world but +his affectionate heart, and for that heart there were but two human +beings. + +These persons wished, in the spring-time, to quit the whirlpool of +mankind, which beat so hardly and so coldly against their hearts. They +had a quiet cottage prepared for them on one of the high Alps opposite +to the silver chain of the Staubbach. On the first fine spring morning +they went the long road to the high mountain. There is a holiness +which sorrow alone can give in its purity; the stream of life becomes +white as snow when it is dashed against rocks. There is an elevation +where little thoughts no more intrude between sublime ones, as when +upon a mountain one sees the summits close to each other without their +connection in the depth below. Thou hadst that holiness, Rosamond, and +thou that elevation, Eugenius. + +A morning mist was gathered round the foot of the mountain, and in that +three fluttering forms were suspended. These were the reflections of +the three travellers, and the timid Rosamond started, thinking she saw +herself. Eugenius thought, “That which the immortal spirit hath around +it is, after all, but a denser mist.” And the child snatched at the +cloud, and wished to play with its little misty brother. One single +invisible angel of the future accompanied them through life and up this +mountain. They were so good and like each other that one angel was all +they needed. + +As they ascended the angel opened the book of fate, one leaf of which +contained the sketch of a three-fold life--every line was a day--and +when the angel had read the line that belonged to this day, he wept and +closed the book for ever. + +The travellers, in their delicate condition, required nearly a day to +arrive at the desired spot. The earth crept back into the valleys, the +sky rested itself on the mountains. The waving, glimmering sun seemed +to our Eugenius a mirror of the moon, and he said to his beloved, when +the icy summits had already cast their flames upon the earth: “I feel +so weary, and yet so well. Will it not be as if we left two +dreams--the dream of life and the dream of death--if we enter the +cloudless moon as the first shore beyond the hurricanes of life?” + +“It will be still better,” replied Rosamond, “for in the moon, as thou +hast taught me, dwell the little children of this earth, and their +parents remain with them till they themselves become as mild and +tranquil as children.” Then they proceed further. + +“Ay, from heaven to heaven--from world to world!” said Eugenius, +ecstatically. + +They ascended as the sun declined; when they climbed more slowly, the +mountain summits like rising, loosened branches, concealed them from +the luminary. They hastened on into the evening glimmer, which was +already advancing, but when they had reached the mountain where their +cottage stood, the eternal mountains stepped before the sun;--the earth +then veiled her graces and her cities, adoring heaven, before it looked +upon her with all its star-eyes, while the waterfalls laid aside their +rainbows,--and the earth spread higher for heaven, which was bending +over her with out-stretched cloud-arms, a gauze of golden exhalations, +and hung it from one mountain to another, and the icebergs were set on +fire, so that they glared even to midnight, while opposite to them on +the grave of the sun was raised a towering funeral pile of clouds, +forming the evening glow and the evening ashes. But through the +glimmering veil kind heaven let its evening tears fall deep into the +earth, even upon the humblest grass and the smallest flower. + +Oh, Eugenius, how great then did thy soul become! The life of earth +lay at a distance and far below thee, free from all the distortions +which we see in it, because we stand too near it, as the decorations of +shorter scenes change from landscapes to mis-shapen strokes when we +look at them closely. + +The two living ones embraced each other with a long and gentle embrace, +as they stood before the cottage, and Eugenius said: “Oh, thou quiet, +eternal heaven, take nothing more from us!” But his pale child with +its snapped lily-head was before him; he looked at the mother, and she +lay with her moistened eye reaching into heaven, and said softly: “O +take us all at once!” + +The angel of futurity, whom I will call the angel of rest, wept as he +smiled, and his wings swept away the sighs of the parents with an +evening breeze, that they might not sadden each other. + +The transparent evening flowed round the red mountain like a bright +lake, and washed it with the circles of cool evening waves. The more +the evening and earth grew, still the more did the two souls feel that +they were in the right place. They had no tears too many, none too +few, and their bliss needed no other increase than its repetition. +Eugenius sent the first harmonious tones floating like swans through +the pure Alpine sky. The weary child, twined in a flowery wreath, +leaned against a sun-dial, and played with the flowers which it drew +around it, to entwine them in its circle. The mother at last awoke +from her harmonious transport; her eye fell on the large eyes of her +child, which opened wide upon her; singing and smiling, and, with +overflowing motherly love, she stepped to the little angel, which was +cold and dead. For its life, which had descended from heaven, had, +like other tones, been dissipated in the atmosphere of earth; death had +breathed upon the butterfly, and it had ascended from the rushing +streams of air to the ever-refining ether; from the flowers of earth to +the flowers of paradise. + +Oh, ever flutter away, ye blessed children! The angel of rest wakes +you in the morning-hour of life with cradle songs, two arms bear you +and your little coffin, and your body, with the two red cheeks, the +forehead free from the print of grief, and the white hands, glide down +by a chain of flowers to the second cradle, and you have only exchanged +one paradise for another. But we--oh, we are crushed by the +storm-winds of life; our heart is weary, our face is deeply marked with +earthly care, and our soul stiffened, still clings to the earthy clod. + +Turn away thine eye from Rosamond’s piercing shriek, fixed glance, and +petrifying features, if thou art a mother, and hast already felt this +pain! look not upon the mother, who, with senseless hand, squeezes +against her the corpse which she now cannot stifle; but look at the +father, who, with his breast, silently covers his struggling heart, +although black grief has twined around it with an adder’s folds, and +poisoned it with an adder’s teeth. Ah, when he at last had conquered +the pain, his heart was envenomed and riven. A man bears the pain of +the wound, but sinks under the scar: a woman seldom combats her grief, +but yet she survives it. “Remain here,” he said, with a suppressed +voice, “I will lay it to rest before the moon rises.” She said +nothing, kissed the child in silence, broke up its wreath of flowers, +sunk down upon the sun-dial, and laid her cold face upon her arm, that +she might not see it carried away. + +On the way the dawning light of the moon shone upon the shaking body of +the infant, and the father said: “Burst forth, oh moon! that I may see +the land wherein He dwells. Rise, oh Elysium! that I may think the +soul of the corse is within thee. Oh child, child, dost thou know +me--dost thou hear me? Hast thou above so fair a face as this one, so +sweet a mouth? Oh thou heavenly mouth, thou heavenly eye, no more +spirit visits thee!” He laid the child beneath flowers which supplied +the place of all that we are generally laid upon for the last time; but +his heart was breaking when he covered the pale lips, the open eyes, +with flowers and earth, and streams of tears fell first into the grave. +When with the verdant coating of the clods he had built a little mound, +he felt that he was weary of his journey and of life; that his weakly +chest could not endure the thin mountain air, and that the ice of death +had settled in his heart. He cast a longing glance at the bereaved +mother, who had long stood trembling behind him, and they fell silent +into each other’s arms, and their eyes could scarcely weep more. + +At last, from behind a glacier that was glimmering out, the glorious +moon flowed forth in loveliness on the two silent unhappy ones, and +showed them its white peaceful meadows, and the gentle light with which +it softens man. “Mother, look up,” said Eugenius; “yonder is thy son! +See there, the white flowery groves, in which our child will play, are +passing over the moon.” Now a burning fire filled his inmost self with +consuming power,--the moon made his eye blind to all that was not +light; sublime forms rolled before him in the light stream, and he +heard in his soul, new thoughts which are not indigenous in man, and +are too great for memory; just as in a dream small melodies may come to +the man who can make none when awake. Death and pleasure press upon +his heavy tongue. “Rosamond, why sayest thou nothing? Dost thou see +thy child? I look beyond the long earth, even to where the moon +begins. There is my son flying between angels. Full flowers cradle +him,--the spring of earth waves over him--children lead him--angels +instruct him--God loves him. Oh! thou dear one, thou art smiling; the +silver light of paradise flows with heavenly radiance about thy little +mouth, and thou hearest me, and callest thy parents. Rosamond, give me +thy hand; we will go and die!” + +The slight corporeal chains grew longer. His advancing spirit +fluttered higher on the borders of life. With convulsive power he +seized the paralysed Rosamond, and blind and sinking, stammered forth, +“Rosamond, where art thou? I fly! I die! We remain together!” + +His heart burst,--his spirit fled; but Rosamond did not remain with +him, for fate snatched her from his dying hand, and cast her back upon +earth, living. She felt if his hand had the coldness of death, and +since it had, she placed it softly against her heart, sunk slowly upon +her failing knees, and raised her face, which had become inexpressibly +serene, towards the starry power. Her eyes, from their tearless +sockets, pressed forth dry, large, and happy, into the sky, and therein +calmly sought a supernatural form, which should descend and bear her +up. She almost fancied she was dying then, and prayed thus: “Come, +thou angel of rest, come and take my heart, and bear it to my beloved. +Angel of rest! leave me not so long alone among the corses. Oh, God! +is there then nought invisible about me? Angel of death! thou must be +here, thou hast already snatched away two souls close by me, and hast +made them ascend. I, too, am dead, draw forth my glowing soul from its +cold kneeling corse.” + +With mad disquiet, she looked about in the vacant sky. Suddenly, in +that still desert, a star shone forth, and wound its way towards the +earth. She spread her arms in transport, and thought the angel of rest +was rushing towards her. Alas! the star passed away, but she did not. +“Not yet? Do I not die yet, All-merciful One?” sighed poor Rosamond. + +In the east a cloud arose,--it passed over the moon, sailed in +loneliness across the clear sky, and stood over the most agonised heart +upon earth. She threw back her head, so as to face the cloud, and said +to the lightning, “Strike this head, and release my heart!” But the +cloud passed darkly over the head that was thrown back for it, and +flying down the sky, sunk behind the mountains. Then, with a thousand +tears, she cried, “Can I not die? Can I not die?” + +Poor Rosamond! How did pain roll itself together, give an angry +serpent-spring at thy heart, and fix in it all its poisonous teeth. +But a weeping spirit poured the opium of insensibility into thine +heart, and the bursts of agony flowed away in a soft convulsion. + +She awoke in the morning, but her mind was unsettled. She saw the sun +and the dead man, but her eye had lost all tears, and her burst heart +had, like a broken bell, lost all tone; she merely murmured, “Why can I +not die?” She went back cold into her hut, and said nothing but these +words. Every night she went half an hour later to the corpse, and +every time she met the rising moon, which was now broken, and said, +while she turned her mourning, tearless eye towards its gleaming +meadows, “Why cannot I die?” + +Ay, why canst thou not, good soul? for the cold earth would have sucked +out of all thy wounds the last venom with which the human heart is laid +beneath its surface, just as the hand when buried in earth recovers +from the sting of a bee. But I turn mine eye away from thy pain, and +look up at the glimmering moon, where Eugenius opens his eyes among +smiling children, and his own child, now with wings, falls upon his +heart. How quiet is every thing in the dimly lit portico of the second +world, a misty rain of light silvers o’er the bright fields of the +first heaven, and beads of light instead of sparkling dew hang upon +flowers and summits,--the blue of heaven is darker over the lily +plains, all the melodies in the thinner air are but a dispersed +echo,--only night-flowers exhale their scents, and dazzle waving around +calmer glances--here the waving plains rock as in a cradle the crushed +souls, and the lofty billows of life fall gliding apart--then the heart +sleeps, the eye becomes dry, the wish becomes silent. Children flutter +like the hum of bees around the heart which is sunk in earth, and is +still palpitating, and the dream after death represents the earthly +life, as a dream here represents childhood here, magically, soothingly, +softly, and free from care. + +Eugenius looked from the moon towards the earth, which for a long +moon-day--equal to two earth-weeks--floated like a thin white cloud +across the blue sky; but he did not recognise his old motherland. At +last the sun set to the moon, and our earth rested, large, glimmering, +and immoveable, on the pure horizon of Elysium, scattering, like a +water-wheel upon a meadow, the flowing beams upon the waving Elysian +garden. He then recognised the earth, upon which he had left a heart +so troubled, in a breast so beloved; and his soul, which reposed in +pleasure, became full of melancholy, and of an infinite longing after +the beloved of his former life, who was suffering below. “Oh, my +Rosamond! why dost thou not leave a sphere, where nothing more loves +thee?” And he cast a supplicating look at the angel of rest, and said: +“Beloved one, take me down from the land of quiet, and lead me to the +faithful soul, that I may see her, and again feel pain, so that she may +not pine alone.” + +Then his heart began suddenly, as it were, to float without any bounds; +breezes fluttered around him, as though they raised him flying, wafted +him away as they swelled, and veiled him in floods; he sank through the +red evening twilights as through roses, and through the night as +through bowers, and through a damp atmosphere which filled his eye with +drops. Then it seemed as though old dreams of childhood had +returned--then there arose a complaint from the distance, which +re-opened all his closed wounds; the complaint, as it drew nearer, +became Rosamond’s voice--at last she herself was before him, +unrecognisable, alone, without solace, without a tear, without colour. + +And Rosamond dreamed upon the earth, and it was to her as though the +sun took wings, and became an angel. This angel, she dreamed, drew +down towards her the moon, which became a gentle face. Beneath this +face, as it approached her, a heart at last formed itself. It was +Eugenius, and his beloved arose to meet him. But as she exclaimed, +with transport, “Now I am dead!” the two dreams, both hers and his, +vanished, and the two were again severed. + +Eugenius waked above, the glimmering earth still stood in the sky, his +heart was oppressed, and his eye beamed with a tear which had not +fallen on the moon. Rosamond waked below, and a large warm dew-drop +hung in one of the flowers of her bosom. Then did the last mist of her +soul shower down in a light rain of tears, her soul became light and +sun-clear, and her eye hung gently on the dawning sky; the earth was +indeed strange to her, but no longer hateful; and her hands moved as +though they were leading those who had died. + +The angel of rest looked upon the moon, and looked upon the earth, and +he was softened by the sighs from both. On the morning-earth he +perceived an eclipse of the sun, and a bereft one; he saw Rosamond +during this transient night sink upon the flowers that slept in the +darkness, and into the cold evening-dew which fell upon the +morning-dew, and stretching forth her hands towards the shaded heaven, +which was full of night-birds, look up towards the moon with +inexpressible longing, as it floated trembling in the sun. The angel +looked upon the moon, and near him wept the departed one, who saw the +earth swimming deep below,--a flood of shade, fitted into a ring of +fire, and from whom the mourning form that dwelt upon it, took all the +happiness of heaven. Then was the heavenly heart of the angel of peace +broken--he seized the hand of Eugenius and that of his child--drew both +through the second world, and bore them down to the dark earth. +Rosamond saw three forms wandering through the obscurity, the gleam +from whom reached the starry heaven, and went along hovering over them. +Her beloved and her child flew like spring-days to her heart, and said, +“Oh, thou dear one, come with us!” Her maternal heart broke with +maternal love, the circulation of earth-blood was stopped, her life was +ended; and happily, happily, did she stammer forth to the two beloved +hearts, “Can I not then die?” “Thou hast died already,” said the angel +of the three fond ones, weeping with joy, “Yonder thou seest the sphere +of earth, whence thou comest, still in shade.” And the waves of joy +closed on high over the blessed world, and all the happy and all +children looked upon our sphere which still trembled in the shade. + + * * * * * + +Yea, indeed, is it in shade! But man is higher than his place. He +looks up and spreads the wings of his soul, and when the sixty minutes, +which we call sixty years, have finished striking, he then lifts +himself up, and kindles himself as he rises, and the ashes of his +plumage fall back, and the unveiled soul rises alone, free from earth, +and pure as a musical tone. But here, in the midst of dark life, he +sees the mountains of the future world standing in the morning gold of +a sun that does not arise here. Thus, the inhabitant of the North Pole +in the long night, when the sun has ceased to rise, discerns at twelve +o’clock, a dawn gilding the highest mountains, and he thinks of his +long summer, when it will set no more. + +J. O. + + +[1] Or, perhaps, “angelic garden,” meaning a church-yard. The reading +given above is most probably correct. + + + + +THE ELEMENTARY SPIRIT. + +BY E. T. W. HOFFMANN. + +On the 20th of November, 1815, Albert von B----, lieutenant-colonel in +the Prussian service, found himself on the road from Liège to +Aix-la-Chapelle. The corps to which he belonged was on its return from +France to march to Liège to head-quarters on that very day, and was to +remain there for two or three days more. Albert had arrived the +evening before; but in the morning he felt himself attacked by a +strange restlessness, and--as he would hardly have confessed to +himself--an obscure dream, which had haunted him all night, and had +foretold that a very pleasant adventure awaited him at Aix-la-Chapelle, +was the only cause of his sudden departure. Much surprised even at his +own proceeding, he was sitting on the swift horse, which would, he +hoped, take him to the city before nightfall. + +A severe cutting autumn wind roared over the bare fields, and awakened +the voices of the leafless wood in the distance, which united their +groans to its howling. Birds of prey came croaking, and followed in +flocks the thick clouds which gathered more and more, until the last +ray of sunlight had vanished, and a faint dull gray had overspread the +entire sky. Albert wrapped his mantle more closely about him, and +while he trotted on along the broad road, the picture of the last +eventful time unfolded itself to his imagination. He thought how, a +few months before, he had travelled on the same road, in an opposite +direction, and during the loveliest season of the year. The fields +then bloomed forth luxuriantly, the fragrant meadows resembled +variegated carpets, and the bushes in which the birds joyously chirped +and sung, shone in the fair light of golden sunbeams. The earth, like +a longing bride, had richly adorned herself to receive in her dark +nuptial chamber, the victims consecrated to death--the heroes who fell +in the sanguinary battles. + +Albert had reached the corps to which he was appointed, when the cannon +had already begun to thunder by the Sambre, though he was in time +enough to take part in the bloody battles of Charleroi, Gilly, and +Gosselins. Indeed, chance seemed to wish that Albert should be present +just when any thing decided took place. Thus he was at the last +storming of the village Planchenoit, which caused the victory in the +most remarkable of all battles--Waterloo. He was in the last +engagement of the campaign, when the final effort of rage and fierce +despair on the part of the enemy wreaked itself on the immoveable +courage of the heroes, who having a fine position in the village of +Issy, drove back the foe as they sought, amid the most furious +discharge of grape, to scatter death and destruction in the ranks; and +indeed drove them back so far, that the sharp-shooters pursued them +almost to the barriers of Paris. The night afterwards (that of the 3rd +and 4th of July), was, as is well known, that on which the military +convention for the surrender of the metropolis was settled at St. Cloud. + +The battle of Issy now rose brightly before Albert’s soul; he thought +of things, which as it seemed, he had not observed, nay, had not been +able to observe during the fight. Thus the faces of many individual +officers and men appeared before his eyes, depicted in the most lively +manner, and his heart was struck by the inexplicable expression, not of +proud or unfeeling contempt of death, but of really divine inspiration, +which beamed from many an eye. Thus he heard sounds, now exhorting to +fight, now uttered with the last sigh of death, which deserved to be +treasured up for posterity like the animating utterances of the heroes +of antiquity. + +“Do I not,” thought Albert, “almost feel like one who has a notion of +his dream when he wakes, but who does not recollect all its single +features till several days afterwards? Ay, a dream, and only a dream, +one would think, by flying over time and space, with its mighty wings, +could render possible, the gigantic, monstrous, unheard-of events, that +took place during the eighteen eventful days of a campaign, which mocks +the boldest thoughts, the most daring combinations of the speculative +mind. Indeed the human mind does not know its own greatness; the act +surpasses the thought. For it is not rude physical force, no! it is +the mind, which creates deeds as they have happened, and it is the +psychic power of every single person, really inspired, which attaches +itself to the wisdom and genius of the general, and helps to accomplish +the monstrous and the unexpected.” + +Albert was disturbed in these meditations by his groom, who kept about +twenty paces behind him, and whom he heard cry out, “Eh! Paul +Talkebarth, where the deuce do you come from?” He turned his horse, +and perceived that a horseman, who had just trotted past him, and whom +he had not particularly observed, was standing still with his groom, +beating out the cheeks of the large fox-fur cap with which his head was +covered, so that soon the well-known face of Paul Talkebarth, Colonel +Victor von S----’s old groom, was made manifest, glowing with the +finest vermilion. + +Now Albert knew at once what it was that impelled him so irresistibly +from Liège to Aix-la-Chapelle, and he could not comprehend how the +thought of Victor, his most intimate and dearest friend, whom he had +every reason to suppose at Aix, merely lay dimly in his soul, and +attained nothing like distinctness. He now also cried out, “Eh! Paul +Talkebarth, whence do you come? Where is your master?” + +Paul curvetted up to him very gracefully, and said, holding the palm of +his hand against the far-too-large cockade of his cap, by way of +military salutation: “Yes, ‘faith, I am Paul Talkebarth indeed, +gracious lieutenant-colonel. We’ve bad weather here, Zermannöre (_sur +mon honneur_). But the groundsel brings that about. Old Lizzy always +used to say so. I cannot say, gracious lieutenant-colonel, if you know +Lizzy: she lives at Genthin, but if one has been at Paris, and has seen +the wild goat in the Schartinpland (_Jardin des Plantes_).--Now, what +one seeks for one finds near, and here I am in the presence of the +gracious lieutenant-colonel, whom I was to seek at Liège. The spirus +familis (_spiritus familiaris_), whispered yesterday evening into my +master’s ear, that the gracious lieutenant-colonel had come to Liège. +Zackermannthö (_sacré mon de Dieu_), there was delight! It may be as +it will, but I have never put any faith in the cream-colour. A fine +beast, Zermannöre, but a mere childish thing, and the baronness did her +utmost--that is true! There are decent sort of people here, but the +wine is good for nothing--and when one has been in Paris--! Now, the +colonel might have marched in, like one through the Argen trumph (_Arc +de triomphe_), and I should have put the new shabrach on the white +horse; gad, how he would have pricked up his ears! But old Lizzy,--she +was my aunt, at Genthin, was always accustomed to say--I don’t know, +gracious lieutenant-colonel, whether you--” + +“May your tongue be lamed,” said Albert, interrupting the incorrigible +babbler. “If your master is at Aix, we must make haste, for we have +still above five leagues to go.” + +“Stop,” cried Paul Talkebarth, with all his might; “stop, stop, +gracious lieutenant-colonel, the weather is bad here; but for +fodder--those who have eyes like us, that shine in the fog.” + +“Paul,” cried Albert, “do not wear out my patience. Where is your +master? Is he not in Aix?” + +Paul Talkebarth smiled with such delight, that his whole countenance +puckered up into a thousand folds, like a wet glove, and then +stretching out his arm he pointed to the building, which might be seen +behind the wood, upon a gentle declivity, and said, “Yonder, in the +castle!” Without waiting for what Paul might have to prattle further, +Albert struck into the path that led from the high road, and hurried on +in a rapid trot. After the little that he has said, honest Paul +Talkebarth must appear to the gracious reader as an odd sort of fellow. +We have only to say, that he being an heir-loom of the family, served +Colonel Victor von S---- from the moment when the latter first put on +his officer’s sword, after having been the intendent-general and +_maître des plaisirs_ of all the sports and mad pranks of his +childhood. An old and very odd _magister_, who had been tutor to the +family through two generations, completed, with the amount of education +which he allowed to flow to honest Paul, those happy talents for +extraordinary confusion and strange _Eulenspiegelei_[1] with which +nature had by no means scantily endued him. At the same time he was +the most faithful soul that could possibly exist. Ready every moment +to sacrifice his life for his master, neither his advanced age nor any +other consideration could prevent the good Paul from following him to +the field in the year 1813. His own nature rendered him superior to +every hardship; but less strong than his corporeal was his spiritual +nature, which seemed to have received a strange shock, or at any rate +some extraordinary impulse during his residence in France, especially +in Paris. Then, for the first time, did he properly feel that Magister +Spreugepileus had been perfectly right when he called him a great +light, that would one day shine forth brightly. This shining quality +Paul had discovered by the aptness with which he had accommodated +himself to the manners of a foreign people, and had learned their +language. Therefore, he boasted not a little, and ascribed it to his +extraordinary talent alone, that he could often, in respect to quarters +and provisions, obtain that which seemed unattainable. Talkebarth’s +fine French phrases, the gentle reader has already been made acquainted +with some pleasant curses--were current, if not through the whole army, +at any rate through the corps to which his master was attached. Every +trooper who came to quarters in a village, cried to the peasant with +Paul’s words, “Pisang! de lavendel pur di schevals!” (_Paysan, de +l’avoine pour les chevaux_.) + +Paul, as is generally the case with eccentric natures, did not like +things to happen in the ordinary manner. He was particularly fond of +surprises, and sought to prepare them in every possible manner for his +master, who was certainly often surprised, though in quite another +manner than was designed by honest Talkebarth, whose happy schemes +generally failed in their execution. Thus, he now entreated +Lieutenant-colonel von B----, when the latter was riding straight up to +the principal entrance of the house, to take a circuitous course and +enter the court-yard by the back way, that his master might not see him +before he entered the room. To meet this view, Albert was obliged to +ride over a marshy meadow, where he was grievously splashed by the mud, +and then he had to go over a fragile bridge on a ditch. Paul +Talkebarth wished to show off his horsemanship by jumping cleverly +over; but he fell in with his horse up to the belly, and was with +difficulty brought back to firm ground by Albert’s groom. Now, in high +spirits, he put spurs to his horse, and with a wild huzza leaped into +the court-yard. As all the geese, ducks, turkeys, and poultry of the +household were gathered together here to rest; while from the one side +a flock of sheep, and from the other side a flock of pigs, had been +driven in, we may easily imagine that Paul Talkebarth, who not being +perfect master of his horse, galloped about the court in large circles, +without any will of his own, produced no little devastation in the +domestic economy. Amid the fearful noise of squeaking, cackling, +bleating, grunting animals, the barking of the dogs, and the scolding +of the servants, Albert made his glorious entrance, wishing honest Paul +Talkebarth at all the devils, with his project of surprise. + +At last Albert leaped from his horse, and entered the house, which, +without any claim to beauty or elegance, looked roomy and convenient +enough. On the steps he was met by a well-fed, not very tall man, in a +short, gray, hunting-jacket, who, with a half-sour smile, said: +“Quartered?” By the tone in which the man asked this question, Albert +perceived at once that the master of the house, Baron von E---- (as he +had learned from Paul) was before him. He assured him that he was not +quartered, but merely purposed to visit his intimate friend, Colonel +Victor von S----, who was, he was told, residing there, and that he +only required the baron’s hospitality for that evening and the night, +as he intended to start very early on the following morning. + +The baron’s face visibly cleared up, and the full sun-shine, which +ordinarily seemed to play upon his good-humoured, but somewhat too +broad, countenance, returned completely, when Albert as he ascended the +stairs with him remarked, that in all probability no division of the +army now marching would touch this spot. + +The baron opened a door, Albert entered a cheerful-looking parlour, and +perceived Victor, who sat with his back towards him. At the sound of +his entrance Victor turned round, and with a loud exclamation of joy +fell into the arms of the lieutenant. “Is it not true, Albert, you +thought of me last night? I knew it, my inner sense told me that you +were in Liège at the very moment when you first entered the place. I +fixed all my thoughts upon you, my spiritual arms embraced you; you +could not escape me.” + +Albert confessed that--as the gentle reader already knows--dark dreams +which came to no clear shape had driven him from Liège. + +“Yes,” cried Victor, with transport, “yes, it is no fancy, no idle +notion; the divine power is given to us, which, ruling space and time, +manifests the supersensual in the world of sense.” + +Albert did not know what Victor meant. Indeed the whole behaviour of +his friend, so different from his usual manner, seemed to denote an +over-excited state. In the meanwhile the lady, who had been sitting +before the fire near Victor, arose and approached the stranger. Albert +bowed to her, casting an inquiring glance at Victor. “This is the +Baroness Aurora von E----,” said Victor, “my hospitable hostess, who +tends me ever carefully and faithfully in sickness and in trouble!” + +Albert as he looked at the baroness felt quite convinced that the +little plump woman had not yet attained her fortieth year, and that she +would have been very well made had not the nutritious food of the +country, together with much sunshine, caused her shape to deviate a +little from the line of beauty. This counteracted the favourable +effect of her pretty, fresh-coloured face, the dark blue eyes of which +might otherwise have beamed somewhat dangerously for the heart. Albert +considered the attire of the baroness almost too homely, for the +material of her dress, which was of a dazzling whiteness, while it +showed the excellence of the washing and bleaching department, also +showed the great distance at which the domestic spinning and weaving +stood from perfection. A cotton kerchief, of a very glaring pattern, +thrown negligently about the neck, so that its whiteness was visible +enough, did not at all increase the brilliant effect of the costume. +The oddest thing of all was, that the baroness wore on her little feet +the most elegant silken shoes, and on her head the most charming lace +cap, after the newest Parisian fashion. This head-dress, it is true, +reminded the lieutenant-colonel of a pretty grisette, with whom chance +had made him acquainted at Paris, but for this very reason a quantity +of uncommonly gallant things flowed from his lips, while he apologised +for his sudden appearance. The baroness did not fail to reply to these +prettinesses in the proper style, and having once opened her mouth the +stream of her discourse flowed on uninterruptedly, till she at last +went so far as to say, that it would be impossible to show sufficient +attention to such an amiable guest, the friend of the colonel, who was +so dear to the family. At the sudden ring of the bell, and the shrill +cry: “Mariane, Mariane!” a peevish old woman made her appearance, who, +by the bunch of keys which hung from her waist, seemed to be the +housekeeper. A consultation was now held with this lady and the +husband, as to what nice things could be got ready. It was soon found, +however, that all the delicacies, such as venison and the like, were +either already consumed, or could only be got the next day. Albert, +with difficulty suppressing his displeasure, said, that they would +force him to quit immediately in the night, if on his account they +disturbed the arrangements of the house in the slightest degree. A +little cold meat, nay, some bread and butter, would be sufficient for +his supper. The baroness replied by protesting that it was impossible +for the lieutenant-colonel to do without something warm, after his ride +in the rough, bleak weather, and after a long consultation with +Mariane, the preparation of some mulled wine was found to be possible +and decided on. Mariane vanished through the door-way, rattling as she +went, but at the very moment when they were about to take their seats, +the baroness was called out by an amazed maid-servant. Albert +overheard that the baroness was being informed at the door of the +frightful devastations of Paul Talkebarth, with a list--no +inconsiderable one--of the dead, wounded, and missing. The baron ran +out after his wife, and while she was scolding he was wishing honest +Paul Talkebarth at Jericho, and the servants were uttering general +lamentations. Albert briefly told his friend of Paul’s exploit in the +yard. “That old Eulenspiegel is always playing such tricks,” said +Victor, angrily, “and yet the rascal means so well from the very bottom +of his heart, that one cannot attack him.” + +At that moment all became quiet without; the chief maid-servant had +brought the glad intelligence that Hans Gucklick had been frightened +indeed, but had come off free from other harm, and was now eating with +a good appetite. + +The baron entered with a cheerful mien, and repeated, in a tone of +satisfaction, that Hans Gucklick had been spared from that wild, +life-disregarding Paul Talkebarth. At the same time he took occasion +to expatiate at great length, and from an agricultural point of view, +the utility of extending the breeding of poultry. This Hans Gucklick, +who had only been very frightened, and had not been otherwise hurt, was +the old cock, who was highly prized, and had been for years the pride +and ornament of the whole poultry-yard. + +The baroness now made her re-appearance, but it was only to arm herself +with a great bunch of keys, which she took out of a cupboard. Quickly +she hurried off, and Albert could hear both her and the housekeeper +clattering and rattling up stairs and down stairs, accompanied by the +shrill voices of the maid-servants who were called, and the pleasant +music of pestles and mortars and graters, which ascended from the +kitchen. “Good heavens!” thought Albert. “If the general had marched +in with the whole of the head-quarters, there could not have been more +noise than has been occasioned by my unlucky cup of mulled wine.” + +The baron, who had wandered from the breeding of poultry to hunting, +had not quite got to the end of a very complicated story of a fine deer +which he had seen, and had not shot, when the baroness entered the +room, followed by no less a person than Paul Talkebarth, who bore the +mulled wine in a handsome porcelain vessel. “Bring it all here, good +Paul,” said the baroness, very kindly. Whereupon Paul replied, with an +indescribably sweet, “A fu zerpir (_à vous servir_), madame.” The +manes of the victims in the yard seemed to be appeased, and all seemed +forgiven. + +Now, at last, they all sat down quietly together. The baroness, after +she had handed the cup to the visiter, began to knit a monstrous +worsted stocking, and the baron took occasion to enlarge upon the +species of knitting which was designed to be worn while hunting. +During his discourse he seized the vessel, that he also might take a +cup. “Ernest!” cried the baroness to him, in an angry tone. He at +once desisted from his purpose, and slunk to the cupboard, where he +quietly refreshed himself with a glass of Schnapps. Albert availed +himself of the moment to put a stop to the baron’s tedious +disquisitions, by urgently asking his friend how he was going on. +Victor was of opinion that there was plenty of time to say, in two +words, what had happened to him since their separation, and that he +could not expect to hear from Albert’s lips all the mighty occurrences +of the late portentous period. The baroness assured him, with a smile, +that there was nothing prettier than tales of war and murder; while the +baron, who had rejoined the party, said that he liked amazingly to hear +of battles, when they were very bloody, as they always reminded him of +his hunting-parties. He was upon the point of returning to the story +of the stag that he did not shoot, but Albert cut him short, and +laughing out loud, though with increased displeasure, remarked that, +though there was, to be sure, some smart shooting in the chase, it was +a comfortable arrangement that the stags, hares, &c., whose blood was +at stake, could not return the fire. + +Albert felt thoroughly warmed by the beverage which he had drunk, and +which he found was excellently made of splendid wine, and his +comfortable state of body had a good effect on his mind, completely +overcoming the ill-humour which had taken possession of him in this +uncomfortable society. He unfolded before Victor’s eyes the whole +sublime and fearful picture of the awful battle, that at once +annihilated all the hopes of the fancied ruler of the world. With the +most glowing imagination, he described the invincible, lion-like +courage of those battalions who at last stormed the village of +Planchenoit, and concluded with the words: “Oh! Victor, Victor! would +you had been there, and fought with me!” + +Victor had moved close to the baroness’s chair, and having picked up +the large ball of worsted, which had rolled down from her lap, was +playing with it in his hands, so that the industrious knitter was +compelled to draw the threads through his fingers, and often could not +avoid touching his arm with her long needle. + +At the words, which Albert uttered with an elevated voice, Victor +appeared suddenly to wake as from a dream. He eyed his friend with a +singular smile, and said, in a half-suppressed tone: “Yes, dear Albert, +what you say is but too true! Man often implicates himself early in +snares, the gordian knot of which death alone forcibly sunders! As for +what concerns the raising of the devil in general, the audacious +invocation of one’s own fearful spirit is the most perilous thing +possible. But here every thing sleeps!” + +Victor’s dark, unintelligible words were a sufficient proof that he had +not heard a syllable of all that Albert had said, but had been occupied +all the time with dreams, which must have been of a very singular kind. + +Albert, as may be supposed, was dumb with amazement. Looking around +him he perceived, for the first time, that the master of the house, who +with hands folded before him, had sunk against the back of a chair, had +dropped his weary head upon his breast, and that the baroness with +closed eyes continued to knit mechanically like a piece of clock-work +wound up. + +Albert sprung up quickly, making a noise as he rose, but at the very +same moment the baroness rose also, and approached him with an air, so +free, noble, and graceful, that he saw no more of the little, plump, +almost comical figure, but thought that the baroness was transformed to +another creature. “Pardon the housewife who is employed from break of +day, lieutenant-colonel,” said she, in a sweet voice, as she grasped +Albert’s hand, “if in the evening she is unable to resist the effects +of fatigue, even though she hears the greatest events recorded in the +finest manner. This you must also pardon in the active sportsman. You +must certainly be anxious to be alone with your friend and to open your +heart to him, and under such circumstances every witness is an +incumberance. It will certainly be agreeable to you to take, alone +with your friend, the supper which I have served in his apartment.” + +No proposal could have been more opportune to Albert. He immediately +in the most courteous language, wished a good night to his kind +hostess, whom he now heartily forgave for the bunch of keys, and the +grief about frightened Hans Gucklick, as well as for the +stocking-knitting and the nodding. + +“Dear Ernest!” cried the baroness, as the friends wished to bid good +night to the baron; but as the latter, instead of answering only cried +out very plainly: “Huss! Huss! Tyrus! Waldmann! Allons!” and let +his head hang on the other side, they tried no more to arouse him from +his pleasant dreams. + +“Now,” said Albert, finding himself alone with Victor for the first +time, “tell me how you have fared. But, however, first let us eat a +bit, for I am very hungry, and it appears there is something more here +than the bread and butter.” + +The lieutenant-colonel was right, for he found a table elegantly set +out with the choicest cold delicacies, the chief ornament of which was +a Bayonne ham, and a pasty of red partridges. Paul Talkebarth, when +Albert expressed his satisfaction, said, waggishly smiling, that if he +had not been present, and had not given Mariane a hint of what it was +that the lieutenant-colonel liked, as suppenfink (_super-fine_)--but +that, nevertheless, he could not forget his aunt Lizzy, who had burned +the rice-pudding on his wedding-day, and that he had now been a widower +for thirty years, and one could not tell, since marriages were made in +heaven, and that Mariane--but that it was the gracious baroness who had +given him the best herself, namely, a whole basket of celery for the +gentleman. Albert did not know why such an unreasonable quantity of +vegetable food should be served, and was highly delighted, when Paul +Talkebarth brought the basket, which contained--not celery--but six +bottles of the finest _vin de Sillery_. + +While Albert was enjoying himself, Victor narrated how he had come to +the estate of the Baron von E----. + +The fatigues of the first campaign (1813), which had often proved too +much for the strongest constitutions, had ruined Victor’s health. The +waters at Aix-la-Chapelle would, he hoped, restore him, and he was +residing there when Bonaparte’s flight from Elba gave the signal for a +new and sanguinary contest. When preparations were making for the +campaign, Victor received orders from the _Residence_ to join the army +on the Lower Rhine, if his health permitted; but fate allowed him no +more than a ride of four or five leagues. Just before the gate of the +house in which the friends now were, Victor’s horse, which had usually +been the surest and most fearless animal in the world, and had been +tried in the wildest tumults of battle, suddenly took fright, and +reared, and Victor fell--to use his own words--like a schoolboy who has +mounted a horse for the first time. He lay insensible, while the blood +flowed from a severe wound in his head, which he had struck against a +sharp stone. He was carried into the house, and here, as removal +seemed dangerous, he was forced to remain till the time of his +recovery, which did not yet seem complete, since, although the wound +had been long healed, he was weakened by the attacks of fever. Victor +spoke of the care and attention which the baroness had bestowed upon +him in terms of the warmest gratitude. + +“Well,” cried Albert, laughing aloud, “for this I was not prepared. I +thought you were going to tell me something very extraordinary, and +now, lo, and behold--don’t be offended--the whole affair seems to turn +out a silly sort of story, like those that have been so worn out in a +hundred stupid novels, that nobody with decency can have any thing to +do with such adventures. The wounded knight is borne into the castle, +the mistress of the house tends him, and he becomes a tender _Amoroso_. +For, Victor, that you, in spite of your good taste hitherto, in spite +of your whole mode of life, should all of a sudden fall in love with a +plump elderly woman, who is homely and domestic to the last degree, +that you should play the pining lack-a-daisical youth, who, as somebody +says, ‘sighs like an oven, and makes songs on his mistress’s +tears,’--that, I say, I can only look upon as a sort of disease! The +only thing that could excuse you in any way, and put you in a poetical +light, would be the Spanish Infanta in the ‘Physician of his +Honour,’[2] who, meeting a fate similar to yours, fell upon his nose +before Donna Menzia’s gate, and at last found the beloved one, who +unconsciously--” + +“Stop!” interrupted Victor, “stop! Don’t you think that I see clearly +enough, that you take me for a silly dolt? No, no, there is something +else--something more mysterious at work. Let us drink!” + +The wine, and Albert’s lively talk, had produced a wholesome excitement +in Victor, who seemed aroused from a gloomy dream. But when, at last, +Albert, raising his full glass, said, “Now, Victor, my dear Infanta, +here’s a health to Donna Menzia, and may she look like our little pet +hostess.”--Victor cried, laughing, “No, no, I cannot bear that you +should take me for a fool. I feel quite cheerful, and ready to make a +confession to you of every thing! You must, however, submit to hear an +entire youthful period of my life, and it is possible that half the +night will be taken up by the narrative.” + +“Begin!” replied Albert, “for I see we have enough wine to cheer up our +somewhat sinking spirits. I only wish it was not so confoundedly cold, +nor a crime to wake up the good folks of the house.” + +“Perhaps,” said Victor, “Paul Talkebarth may have made some provision.” +And, indeed, the said Paul, cursing in his well-known French dialect, +courteously assured them, that he had cut small and kept excellent wood +for firing, which he was ready to kindle at once. “Fortunately,” said +Victor, “the same thing cannot happen to me here, that happened at a +drysalter’s at Meaux, where honest Paul lit me a fire that cost, at +least, 1200 francs. The good fellow had got hold of Brazilian +sandal-wood, hacked it to pieces, and put it on the hearth, so that I +looked almost like Andolosia, the famous son of the celebrated +Fortunatus, whose cook had to light a fire of spices, because the king +forbade him to buy wood. You know,” continued Victor, as the fire +merrily crackled and flamed up, and Paul Talkebarth had left the room, +“you know, my dear friend, Albert, that I began my military career in +the guards, at Potsdam; indeed, that is nearly all you know of my +younger days, because I never had a special opportunity to talk about +them--and, still more, because the picture of those years has been +represented to my soul in dim outlines, and did not, until I came here, +flame up again in bright colours. My first education, in my father’s +house, does not even deserve the name of a bad one. I had, in fact, no +education at all, but was left entirely to my own inclinations, and +these indicated any thing rather than a call to the profession of arms. +I felt manifestly impelled towards a scientific culture, which the old +magister, who was my appointed tutor, and who only liked to be left in +quiet, could not give me. At Potsdam I gained with facility a +knowledge of modern languages, while I zealously and successfully +pursued those studies that are requisite for an officer. I read, +besides, with a kind of mania, all that fell into my hands, without +selection or regard to utility; however, as my memory was excellent, I +had acquired a mass of historical knowledge, I scarcely knew how. +People have since done me the honour to assure me that a poetical +spirit dwelled in me, which I myself would not rightly appreciate. +Certain it is that the _chefs-d’oeuvre_ of the great poets, of that +period, raised me to a state of inspiration of which I had previously +no notion. I appeared to myself as another being, developed for the +first time into active life. I will only name the ‘Sorrows of +Werther,’ and, more especially, Schiller’s ‘Robbers.’ My fancy +received an impulse quite of a different sort from a book, which, for +the very reason that it is not finished, gives the mind an impetus that +keeps it swinging like a pendulum in constant motion. I mean +Schiller’s ‘Ghostseer.’ It may be that the inclination to the mystical +and marvellous, which is generally deep-rooted in human nature, was +particularly prevalent in me;--whatever was the cause, it is sufficient +for me to say that, when I read that book, which seems to contain the +exorcising formula belonging to the mightiest black art, a magical +kingdom, full of super-terrestrial, or, rather, sub-terrestrial +marvels, was opened to me, in which I moved about as a dreamer. Once +given to this mood, I eagerly swallowed all that would accord with it, +and even works of far less worth did not fail in their effect upon me. +Thus the ‘Genius,’ by Grosse, made a deep impression upon me, and I +have the less reason to feel ashamed of this, since the first part, at +least, on account of the liveliness of the style and the clear +treatment of the subject, produced a sensation through the whole +literary world. Many an arrest I was obliged to endure, when upon +guard, for being absorbed in such a book, or perhaps only in mystic +dreams, I did not hear the call, and was forced to be fetched by the +inferior officer. Just at this time chance made me acquainted with a +very extraordinary man. It happened on a fine summer evening, when the +sun had already sunk, and twilight had already begun, that, according +to my custom, I was walking alone in a pleasure ground near Potsdam. I +fancied that, from the thicket of a little wood, which lay by the +road-side, I could hear plaintive sounds, and some words uttered with +energy in a language unknown to me. I thought some one wanted +assistance, so I hastened to the spot whence the sounds seemed to +proceed, and soon, in the red glimmer of the evening, discovered a +large, broad-shouldered figure, enveloped in a common military mantle, +and stretched upon the ground. Approaching nearer I recognised, to my +astonishment, Major O’Malley of the grenadiers. ‘Good heavens!’ I +exclaimed, ‘is this you, major? In this situation? Are you ill? Can +I help you?’ The major looked at me with a fixed, wild stare, and then +said, in a harsh voice, ‘What the devil brings you here, lieutenant? +What does it matter to you whether I lie here or not? Go back to the +town!’ Nevertheless, the deadly paleness of O’Malley’s face made me +suspect that there was something wrong, and I declared that I would not +leave him, but would only return to the town in his company. ‘Good!’ +said the major, quite coldly and deliberately, after he had remained +silent for some moments, and had endeavoured to raise himself, in which +attempt, as it appeared to be attended with difficulty, I assisted him. +I perceived now that--as was frequently the case when he went out in +the evening--he had nothing but a shirt under the cloak, which was a +common _commis-mantel_ as they call it, that he had put on his boots, +and that he wore upon his bald head his officer’s hat, with broad gold +lace. A pistol, which lay on the ground near him, he caught up +hastily, and, to conceal it from me, put it into the pocket of his +cloak. During the whole way to the town he did not speak a syllable to +me, but now and then uttered disjointed phrases in his own language--he +was an Irishman by birth--which I did not understand. When he had +reached his quarters he pressed my hand, and said, in a tone in which +there was something indescribable--something that had never been heard +before, and which still echoes in my soul: ‘Good night, lieutenant! +Heaven guard you, and give you good dreams!’ This Major O’Malley was +one of the strangest men possible, and if, perhaps, I except a few +somewhat eccentric Englishmen, whom I have met, I know no officer in +the whole great army to compare in outward appearance with O’Malley. +If it be true--as some travellers affirm--that nature nowhere produces +such peculiarities as in Ireland, and that, therefore, every family can +exhibit the prettiest cabinet pictures, Major O’Malley would justly +serve as a prototype for all his nation. Imagine a man strong as a +tree, six feet high, whose build could scarcely be called awkward, but +none of whose limbs fitted the rest, so that his whole figure seemed +huddled together, as in that game where figures are composed of single +parts, the numbers on which are decided by the throw of the dice. An +aquiline nose, and delicately formed lips would have given a noble +appearance to his countenance, but his prominent glassy eyes were +almost repulsive, and his black bushy eyebrows had the character of a +comic mask. Strangely enough there was something lachrymose in the +major’s face whenever he laughed, which, by the way, seldom happened, +while he seemed to laugh whenever the wildest passion mastered him, and +in this laugh there was something so terrific, that the oldest and most +stout-hearted fellows would shudder at it. But, however, seldom as +Major O’Malley laughed, it was just as seldom that he allowed himself +to be carried away by passion. That the major should ever have an +uniform to fit him seemed an utter impossibility. The best tailors in +the regiment failed utterly when they applied their art to the formless +figure of the major; his coat, though cut according to the most +accurate measure, fell into unseemly folds, and hung on his body as if +placed there to be brushed, while his sword dangled against his legs, +and his hat sat upon his head in such a queer fashion that the military +schismatic might be recognised a hundred paces off. A thing quite +unheard of in those days in which there was so much pedantry in matters +of form--O’Malley wore no tail! To be sure a tail could scarcely have +been fastened to the few gray locks that curled at the back of his +head, and, with the exception of these, he was perfectly bald. When +the major rode, people expected every moment to see him tumble from his +horse, when he fought they expected to see him beaten; and yet he was +the very best rider and fencer,--in a word, the very best _Gymnastiker_ +that could exist. + +“This will suffice to give you the picture of a man, whose whole mode +of life might be called mysterious, as he now threw away large sums, +now seemed in want of assistance, and removed from all the control of +superiors, and every restraint of service, could do exactly as he +liked. And even that which he did like was so eccentric, or rather so +splenetically mad, that one felt uneasy about his sanity. They said +that the major, at a certain period, when Potsdam and its environs was +the scene of a strange mystification, that even found a place in the +history of the day, had played an important part, and still stood in +certain relations, which caused the incomprehensibility of his +position. A book of very ill-repute, which appeared at the time--it +was called ‘Excorporations,’ if I mistake not,--and which contained the +portrait of a man very like the major, increased that belief, and I, +struck by the mysterious contents of this book, felt the more inclined +to consider O’Malley a sort of Arminian, the more I observed his +chimerical, I may almost say supernatural proceedings. He himself gave +me additional opportunity to make such observations, for since the +evening on which I found him ill, or otherwise overcome, in the wood, +he had taken an especial fancy to me, so that it seemed absolutely +necessary for him to see me every day. To describe to you the whole +peculiarity of this intercourse with the major, to tell you a great +deal that seemed to confirm the judgment of the men, who boldly +maintained that he had second-sight, and was in compact with the devil, +would be superfluous, as you will soon have sufficient knowledge of the +awful spirit that was destined to disturb the peace of my life. + +“I was on guard at the castle, and there received a visit from my +cousin, Captain von T----, who had come with a young officer from +Berlin to Potsdam. We were indulging in friendly converse over our +wine, when, towards midnight, Major O’Malley entered. ‘I thought to +find you alone, lieutenant,’ said he, casting glances of displeasure at +my guests, and he wished to depart at once. The captain then reminded +him that they were old acquaintance, and at my request he consented to +remain. + +“‘Your wine,’ exclaimed O’Malley, as he tossed down a bumper, after his +usual manner; ‘your wine, lieutenant, is the vilest stuff that ever +tortured an honest fellow’s bowels. Let us see if this is of a better +sort.’ + +“He then took a bottle from the pocket of the cloak which he had drawn +over his shirt, and filled the glasses. We pronounced the wine +excellent, and considered it to be very fiery Hungarian. + +“Somehow or other, I cannot say how, conversation turned upon magical +operations, and particularly upon the book of ill report, to which I +have already alluded. The captain, especially when he had drunk wine, +had a certain scoffing tone, which every one could not endure, and in +this tone he began to talk about military exorcisors and wizards, who +had done very pretty things at that time, so that even at the present +time people revered their power, and made offerings to it. ‘Whom do +you mean?’ cried O’Malley, in a threatening tone; ‘whom do you mean, +captain? If you mean me, we will put the subject of raising spirits +aside; I can show you that I understand the art of conjuring the soul +out of the body, and for that art I require no talisman but my sword or +a good pistol-barrel.’ + +“There was nothing the captain desired less than a quarrel with +O’Malley. He therefore gave a neat turn to the subject, asserting that +he did indeed mean the major, but intended nothing but a jest, which +was, perhaps, an ill-timed one. Now, however, he would ask the major +in earnest, whether he would not do well by contradicting the silly +rumour, that he commanded mysterious powers, and thus, in his own +person, check the foolish superstition, which by no means accorded with +an age so enlightened. The major leaned completely across the table, +rested his head on both his fists, so that his nose was scarcely a span +removed from the captain’s face, and then said very calmly, staring at +him with his prominent eyes: ‘Even, friend, if Heaven has not blessed +you with a very penetrating intellect, I hope you will be able to see, +that it is the silliest conceit, nay, I may say, the most atrocious +presumption to believe that with our own spiritual existence every +thing is concluded, and that there are no spiritual beings, which, +differently endowed from ourselves, often from their own nature alone, +make themselves temporary forms, manifest themselves in space and time, +and further, aiming at a sort of reaction, can take refuge in the mass +of clay, which we call a body. I do not reproach you, captain, for not +having read, and for being ignorant of every thing that cannot be +learned at a review or on parade, but this I will tell you, that if you +had peeped now and then into clever books, and knew Cardanus, Justin +Martyr, Lactantius, Cyprian, Clement of Alexandria, Macrobius, +Trismegistus, Nollius, Dorneus, Theophrastus, Fludd, William Postel, +Mirandola; nay, even the cabalistic Jews, Josephus and Philo, you might +have had an inkling of things which are at present above your horizon, +and of which you therefore have no right to talk.’ + +“With these words O’Malley sprang up, and walked up and down with heavy +steps, so that the windows and glasses vibrated. + +“The captain, somewhat astonished, assured the major, that although he +had the highest esteem for his learning, and did not wish to deny that +there were, nay, must be, higher spiritual natures, he was firmly +convinced that any communication with an unknown spiritual world was +contrary to the very conditions of humanity, and therefore impossible, +and that any thing advanced as a proof of the contrary, was based on +self-delusion or imposture. + +“After the captain had been silent for a few seconds, O’Malley suddenly +stood still, and began, ‘Captain, or,’--turning to me,--‘lieutenant, do +me the favour to sit down and write an epic as noble and as +superhumanly great as the Iliad.’ + +“We both answered, that neither of us would succeed, as neither of us +had the Homeric genius. ‘Ha! ha!’ cried the major, ‘mark that, +captain! Because your mind is incapable of conceiving and bringing +forth the divine; nay, because your nature is not so constituted, that +it can even kindle into the knowledge of it, you presume to deny that +such things are possible with any one. I tell you, the intercourse +with higher spiritual natures depends on a particular _psychic_ +organisation. That organisation, like the creative power of poetry, is +a gift which the spirit of the universe bestows upon its favourites.’ + +“I read in the captain’s face, that he was on the point of making some +satirical reply to the major. To stop this, I took up the conversation +myself, and remarked to the major that, as far as I had any knowledge +of the subject, the cabalists prescribed certain rules and forms, that +intercourse with unknown spiritual beings might be attained. Before +the major could reply, the captain, who was heated with wine, sprang +from his seat, and said bitterly, ‘What is the use of all this talking? +You give yourself out as a superior being, major, and want to believe, +that because you are made of better stuff than any of us, you command +spirits! You must allow me to believe that you are nothing but a +besotted dreamer, until you give us some ocular demonstration of your +_psychic_ power.’ + +“The major laughed wildly, and said, ‘So, captain, you take me for a +common necromancer, a miserable juggler, do you? That accords with +your limited view! However, you shall be permitted to take a peep into +a dark region of which you have no notion, and which may, perhaps, have +a destructive effect upon you. I warn you against it, and would have +you reflect, that your mind may not be strong enough to bear many +things, which to me would be no more than agreeable pastime.’ + +“The captain protested that he was quite ready to cope with all the +spirits and devils that O’Malley could raise, and we were obliged to +give our word of honour to the major that we would meet him at ten +o’clock on the night of the autumnal equinox, at the inn near the ---- +gate, when we should learn more. + +“In the meanwhile it had become clear daylight; the sun was shining +through the window. The major then placed himself in the middle of the +room, and cried with a voice of thunder, ‘Incubus! Incubus! +Nehmahmihah Scedim!’ He then threw off his cloak, which he had not yet +laid aside, and stood in full uniform. + +“At that moment I was obliged to leave the room as the guard was +getting under arms. When I returned, the major and the captain had +both vanished. + +“‘I only stayed behind,’ said the young officer, a good, amiable youth, +whom I found alone.--‘I only stayed behind to warn you against this +major, this fearful man! I will have nothing to do with his fearful +secrets, and I only regret that I have given my word to be present at a +deed, which will be destructive, perhaps, to us all, and certainly to +the captain. You may depend upon it that I am not inclined to believe +in the tales that old nurses tell to children; but did you observe that +the major successively took eight bottles from his pocket, that seemed +scarcely large enough to hold one?--that at last, although he wore +nothing but his shirt under his cloak, he suddenly stood attired by +invisible hands?’ It was, indeed, as the lieutenant had said, and I +felt an icy shudder come over me. + +“On the appointed day the captain called upon me with my young friend, +and at the stroke of ten we were at the inn as we had promised the +major. The lieutenant was silent and reserved, but the captain was so +much the louder and in high spirits. ‘Indeed!’ he cried, when it was +already half-past ten, and no O’Malley had made his appearance, ‘indeed +I believe that the conjuror has left us in the lurch with all his +spirits and devils!’ ‘That he has not,’ said a voice close behind the +captain, and O’Malley was among us without any one having seen how he +entered. The laugh, into which the captain was about to break, died +away. + +“The major, who was dressed as usual in his military cloak, thought +that there was time to drink a few glasses of punch before he took us +to the place where he designed to fulfill his promise. It would do us +good as the night was cold and rough, and we had a tolerably long way +to go. We sat down at a table, on which the major had laid some links +bound together, and a book. + +“‘Ho ho!’ cried the captain, ‘this is your conjuring book is it, major?’ + +“‘Most assuredly,’ replied O’Malley, drily. + +“The captain seized the book, opened it, and at that moment laughed so +immoderately, that we did not know what could have struck him, as being +so very ridiculous. + +“‘Come,’ said he, recovering himself with difficulty, ‘come, this is +too bad! What the devil, major--oh, you want to play your tricks upon +us, or have you made some mistake? Only look here, comrades!’ + +“You may conceive our astonishment, friend Albert, when we saw that the +book which the captain held before our eyes, was no other than +‘Peplier’s French Grammar.’ O’Malley took the book out of the +captain’s hand, put it into the pocket in his cloak, and then said very +quietly--indeed his whole demeanour was quiet and milder than +usual--‘It must be very immaterial to you, captain, of what instruments +I make use to fulfill my promise, which only binds me to give you a +sensible demonstration of my intercourse with the world of spirits +which surrounds us, and which, in fact, comprises the condition of our +higher being. Do you think that my power requires such paltry crutches +as especial mystical forms, choice of a particular time, a remote awful +spot--things which paltry cabalists are in the habit of employing for +their useless experiments? In the open market-place, at every hour, I +could show you my power; and when, after you had presumptuously enough +challenged me to enter the lists, I chose a particular time, and, as +you will perceive, a place that you may think rather awful, I only +wished to show a civility to him, who, on this occasion, is to be in +some sort your guest. One likes to receive guests in one’s best room, +and at the most suitable hour.’ + +“It struck eleven, the major took up the torches, and desired us to +follow him. + +“He strode so quickly along the high road that we had a difficulty in +following him, and when we had reached the toll-house, turned into a +footpath on the right, that led to a thick wood of firs. After we had +run for nearly an hour, the major stood still, and told us to keep +close behind him, as we might otherwise lose ourselves in the thicket +of the wood that we now had to enter. We went through the densest +bushes, so that one or the other of us was constantly caught by the +uniform or the sword, so as to extricate himself with difficulty, until +at last we came to an open space. The moonbeams were breaking through +the dark clouds, and I perceived the ruins of a large building, into +which the major strode. It grew darker and darker; the major desired +us to stand still, as he wished to conduct every one of us down singly. +He began with the captain, and my turn came next. The major clasped me +round, and I was more carried by him than I walked into the depth. +‘Stop here,’ whispered the major, ‘stop here quietly till I have +fetched the lieutenant, then my work shall begin.’ + +“Amid the impenetrable darkness I heard the breathing of a person who +stood close by me. ‘Is that you, captain?’ I exclaimed. ‘Certainly it +is,’ replied the captain, ‘have a care, cousin; this will all end in +foolish jugglery, but it is a cursed place to which the major has +brought us, and I wish we were sitting at a bowl of punch, for my limbs +are all trembling with cold, and, if you will have it so, with a +certain childish apprehension.’ + +“It was no better with me than with the captain. The boisterous autumn +wind whistled and howled through the walls, and a strange groaning and +whispering answered it from below. Scared night birds swept fluttering +by us, while a low whining noise seemed to be gliding away close to the +ground. Truly both the captain and myself might say of the horrors of +our situation the same thing that Cervantes says of Don Quixote, when +he passes the portentous night before the adventure with the +fulling-mills: ‘One less courageous would have lost his presence of +mind altogether.’ The splashing of some water in the vicinity, and the +barking of dogs, showed that we were not far from the +leather-manufactory, which is by the river in the neighbourhood of +Potsdam. We at last heard some dully sounding steps, which became +nearer and nearer until the major cried out close to us: ‘Now we are +together, and that which we have begun can be completed.’ By means of +a chemical fire-box he kindled the torches which he had brought with +him and stuck them in the ground. They were seven in number. We found +that we were in the ruined vault of a cellar. O’Malley ranged us in a +half-circle, threw off his cloak and shirt, so that he remained naked +to the waist, and opening the book began to read as follows, in a voice +that more resembled the dull roaring of a distant beast of prey than +the sound of a human being: Monsieur, pretez moi un peu, s’il vous +plâit, votre canif.--Oui, Monsieur, d’abord--le voilà, je vous le +rendrai.’ + +“Come,” said Albert, here interrupting his friend, “this is indeed too +bad! The dialogue ‘On writing,’ from Peplier’s Grammar, as a formula +for exorcism! And you did not laugh out and bring the whole thing to +an end at once?” + +“I am now,” continued Victor, “coming to a moment which I doubt whether +I shall succeed in describing. May your fancy only give animation to +my words! The major’s voice grew more awful, while the wind howled +more loudly, and the flickering light of the torches covered the walls +with strange forms, that changed as they flitted by. I felt the cold +perspiration dripping on my forehead, and forcibly succeeded in +preserving my presence of mind, when a cutting tone whistled through +the vault, and close before my eyes stood something----” + +“How?” cried Albert. “Something! What do you mean, Victor? A +frightful form?” + +“It sounds absurd,” continued Victor, “to talk of ‘a formless form,’ +but I can find no other word to express the hideous something that I +saw. It is enough to say that at that moment the horror of hell thrust +its pointed ice-dagger into my heart, and I became insensible. At +broad mid-day I found myself undressed and lying upon my couch. All +the horrors of the night had passed, and I felt quite well and easy. +My young friend, the lieutenant, was asleep in the arm-chair. As soon +as I stirred he awoke, and testified the greatest joy at finding me in +perfect health. From him I learned that as soon as the major had begun +his gloomy work, he had closed his eyes, and had endeavoured closely to +follow the dialogue from Peplier’s Grammar, without regarding any thing +else. Notwithstanding all his efforts, a fearful apprehension, +hitherto unknown, had gained the mastery over him, though he preserved +his consciousness. The frightful whistle, was, he said, followed by +wild laughter. He had once involuntarily opened his eyes, and +perceived the major, who had again thrown his mantle round him, and was +upon the point of taking upon his shoulders the captain, who lay +senseless on the ground. ‘Take care of your friend,’ cried O’Malley to +the lieutenant, and giving him a torch, he went up with the captain. +The lieutenant then spoke to me, as I stood there immoveable, but it +was to no purpose. I seemed quite paralysed, and he had the greatest +difficulty in bringing me into the open air. Suddenly the major +returned, took me on his shoulders, and carried me away as he had +carried the captain before. But what was the horror of the lieutenant, +when on leaving the wood, he saw a second O’Malley who was carrying the +captain along the broad path! However, silently praying to himself, he +got the better of his horror, and followed me, firmly resolved not to +quit me, happen what might, till we reached my quarters, where O’Malley +set me down and left me, without speaking a word. With the help of my +servant,--who even then, was my honest Eulenspiegel, Paul Talkebarth; +the lieutenant had brought me into my room, and put me to bed. + +“Having concluded this narrative, my young friend implored me, in the +most touching manner, to shun all association with the terrible +O’Malley. The physician, who had been called in, found the captain in +the inn by the gate, where we had assembled, struck speechless by +apoplexy. He recovered, indeed, but remained unfit for the service, +and was forced to quit it. The major had vanished, having, as the +officers said, obtained leave of absence. I was glad that I did not +see him again, for a deep indignation had mingled itself with the +horror which his dark mode of life occasioned. My cousin’s misfortune +was the work of O’Malley, and it seemed my duty to take a sanguinary +revenge. + +“A considerable time had elapsed, and the remembrance of that fatal +night grew faint. The occupations required by the service overcame my +propensity to mystical dreaming. A book then fell into my hands, the +effect of which, on my whole being, seemed perfectly inexplicable, even +to myself. I mean that strange story of Cazotte’s, which is known in a +German translation as ‘Teufel Amor’ (The Devil Love). My natural +bashfulness, nay, a kind of childish timidity, had kept me from the +society of ladies, while the particular direction of my mind resisted +every ebullition of rude passion. Now, for the first time, was a +sensual tendency revealed in me which I had never suspected. My pulse +beat high, a consuming fire coursed through nerves and veins, as I went +through those scenes of the most dangerous, nay, most horrible love, +which the poet had described in the most glowing colours. I saw, I +heard, I was sensible to nothing but the charming Biondetta. I sank +under the pleasing torments, like Alvarez----” + +“Stop, stop!” interrupted Albert, “I have no very clear remembrance of +Cazotte’s ‘Diable Amoureux;’ but, so far as I recollect, the whole +story turns upon the circumstance that a young officer of the guards, +in the service of the King of Naples, is tempted by a mystical comrade +to raise the devil in the ruins of Portici. When he has uttered the +formula of exorcism, a hideous camel’s head, with a long neck, thrust +itself towards him out of a window, and cries, in a horrible voice, +‘Che vuoi.’ Alvarez--so is the young officer named--commands the +spectre to appear in the shape of a spaniel, and then in that of a +page. This happens; but the page soon becomes a most charming, amorous +girl, and completely entangles the enchanter. How Cazotte’s pretty +story concludes has quite escaped me.” + +“That is at present quite immaterial,” said Victor; “but you will +perhaps be reminded of it by the conclusion to my story. Attribute it +to my propensity to the wonderful, and also to something mysterious +which I experienced, that Cazotte’s tale soon appeared to me a magic +mirror, in which I could discern my own fate. Was not O’Malley to me +that mystical Dutchman who decoyed Alvarez by his arts? + +“The desire which glowed in my heart, of achieving the terrible +adventure of Alvarez, filled me with horror; but even this horror made +me tremble with unspeakable delight, such as I had never before known. +Often did a wish arise within me, that O’Malley would return and place +in my arms the hell-birth, to which my entire self was abandoned, and I +could not kill the sinful hope and deep abhorrence which again darted +through my heart like a dagger. The strange mood produced by my +excited condition remained a mystery to all; they thought I suffered +from some morbid state of mind, and sought to cheer me and dissipate my +gloomy thoughts. Under the pretext of some service, they sent me to +the _Residence_, where the most brilliant circle was open to me. But +if I had always been shy and bashful, society--especially the approach +of ladies--now produced in me absolute repugnance. The most charming +only seemed to scoff at Biondetta’s image which I bore within me. When +I returned to Potsdam, I shunned all association with my comrades, and +my favourite abode was the wood--the scene of those frightful events +that had nearly cost my poor cousin his life. I stood close by the +ruins, and, being impelled by an undefined desire, was on the point of +making my way in, through the thick brushwood, when I suddenly saw +O’Malley, who walked slowly out, and did not seem to perceive me. My +long repressed anger boiled up instantly, I darted upon the major, and +told him in few words, that he must fight with me on account of my +cousin. ‘Be it so at once,’ said the major, coldly and gravely, and he +threw off his mantle, drew his sword, and at the very first pass struck +mine out of my hand with irresistible force and dexterity. ‘We will +fight with pistols,’ cried I, wild with rage, and was about to pick up +my sword, when O’Malley held me fast, and said, in a calm mild tone, +such as I had scarcely ever heard from him before: ‘Do not be a fool, +my son! You see that I am your superior in fighting; you could sooner +wound the air than me, and I could never prevail on myself to stand in +a hostile position to you, to whom I owe my life, and indeed something +more.’ The major then took me by the arm, and gently drawing me along, +proved to me that the captain alone had been the cause of his own +misfortune, since, in spite of every warning, he had ventured on things +to which he was unequal, and had forced the major to do what he did, by +his ill-timed and insulting raillery. I myself cannot tell what a +singular magic there was in O’Malley’s words, nay, in his whole manner. +He not only succeeded in quieting me, but had such an effect upon me, +that I involuntarily revealed to him the secret of my internal +condition--of the destructive warfare that was carried on within my +soul. ‘The particular constellation,’ said O’Malley, when I had +finished, ‘which rules over you, my son, has now ordained that a silly +book should make you attentive to your own internal being. I call the +book silly, because it treats of a goblin that is at once repulsive and +without character. What you ascribe to the effect of these licentious +images of the poet, is nothing but an impulse towards an union with a +spiritual being of another region, which results from your happily +constituted organisation. If you had shown more confidence in me, you +would have been on a higher grade long ago. However, I will take you +as my scholar.’ O’Malley now began to make me acquainted with the +nature of elementary spirits. I understood little that he said, but +all referred to the doctrine of sylphs, undines, salamanders, and +gnomes, such as you may find in the dialogues of the Comte de Cabalis. +He concluded by prescribing me a particular course of life, and thought +that in the course of a year I might obtain my Biondetta, who would +certainly not do me the wrong of changing into the incarnate Satan in +my arms. With the same ardour as Alvarez, I thought that I should die +of impatience in so long a time, and would venture any thing to attain +my end sooner. The major remained reflecting in silence for some +moments, and then said: ‘It is certain that an elementary spirit is +seeking your good graces. This may enable you to obtain that in a +short time, for which others strive during whole years. I will cast +your horoscope. Perhaps your mistress will reveal herself to me. In +nine days you shall hear more.’ I actually counted the hours, feeling +now penetrated by a mysterious delightful hope, and now as if I had +involved myself in a dangerous affair. Late in the evening of the +ninth day, the major at last entered my room, and desired me to follow +him. ‘Are we to go to the ruins?’ I asked. ‘Certainly not,’ replied +O’Malley, smiling, ‘for the work which we now have in hand, we want +neither a remote awful spot, nor a terrible exorcism out of Peplier’s +grammar. Besides, my incubus can have no part in to-day’s experiment, +which, properly speaking, you undertake, not I.’ The major conducted +me to his quarters, and there explained to me that the matter was to +procure something by means of which my own self might be opened to the +elementary spirit, and the latter might have the power of revealing +itself to me in the invisible world, and holding intercourse with me. +This _something_ was what the Jewish cabalists called ‘Teraphim.’ He +now pushed aside a bookcase, opened the door concealed behind it, and +we entered a little vaulted cabinet, in which, besides all sorts of +strange unknown utensils, I saw a complete apparatus for chemical--or, +as I might almost believe--alchemical experiments. From the glaring +charcoal on a small hearth were darting forth little blue flames. +Before this hearth I had to sit opposite the major, and to uncover my +bosom. I had no sooner done this, than the major, before I was aware +of it, scratched me with a lancet under the left breast, and caught in +a little vial the few drops of blood that flowed from the slight wound, +which I could scarcely feel. He next took a bright plate of metal, +polished like a mirror, poured upon it first another vial that +contained a reddish liquid, and afterwards the one filled with my +blood, and then held the plate close over the charcoal fire. I was +seized with deep horror, when I thought I saw a long, pointed, glaring +tongue rise serpent-like upon the coals, and greedily lick away the +blood from the metallic mirror. The major now told me to look into the +fire with a mind firmly fixed. I did so, and soon I seemed to behold, +as in a dream, a number of confused forms, flashing through one another +on the metal, which the major still held over the charcoal. Suddenly, +I felt in my breast, where the major had scratched my skin, such a +strong, piercing pain, that I involuntarily shrieked aloud. ‘Won! +Won!’ cried O’Malley at that instant, and, rising from his seat, he +placed before me on the hearth a little doll, about two inches long, +into which the metal seemed to have formed itself. ‘That,’ said the +major, ‘is your Teraphim. The favours of the elementary spirit towards +you seem to be more than ordinary. You may now venture on the utmost.’ +At the major’s bidding, I took the little figure, from which, though it +looked red-hot, only a genial warmth was streaming, pressed it to the +wound, and placed myself before a round mirror, from which the major +had withdrawn the covering. ‘Force your wishes,’ said O’Malley, ‘to +the greatest intensity, which will not be difficult, as the Teraphim is +operating, and utter in the sweetest tone of which you are capable, the +word ----.’ To tell you the truth, I have forgotten the +strange-sounding word, which was spoken by O’Malley. Scarcely had half +the syllables passed my lips, than an ugly, madly-distorted face +grinned at me spitefully from the mirror. ‘In the name of all the +devils, whence come you, you accursed dog?’ yelled O’Malley behind me. +I turned round, and saw my Paul Talkebarth, who was standing in the +door-way, and whose handsome face was reflected in the magic mirror. +The major, wild with rage, flew at honest Paul; yet, before I could get +between them, O’Malley stood close to him, perfectly motionless, and +Paul availed himself of the opportunity to make a prolix apology; +saying, how he had looked for me, how he had found the door open, how +he had walked in, &c. ‘Begone, rascal,’ said O’Malley at last, in a +quieter tone, and when I added, ‘Go, good Paul, I will return home +directly;’ the Eulenspiegel departed quite terrified and confounded. + +“I had held the doll fast in my hand, and O’Malley assured me, that it +was owing to this circumstance alone, that all our labour had not been +in vain. Talkebarth’s ill-timed intrusion had, however, delayed the +completion of the work for a long time. He advised me to turn off that +faithful servant, but this I had not the heart to do. Moreover, he +assured me that the elementary spirit which had shown me such favour, +was nothing less than a salamander, as indeed, he suspected, when he +cast my horoscope and found that Mars stood in the first house. I now +come again to moments of which you can have but a slight notion, as +words are incapable of describing them. The Devil Amor, Biondetta--all +was forgotten; I thought only of my Teraphim. For whole hours I could +look at the doll, as it lay on the table before me, and the glow of +love that streamed through my veins seemed then, like the heavenly fire +of Prometheus, to animate the little figure which grew up as in ardent +longing. But this form vanished as soon as I had thought it, and the +unspeakable anguish which cut through my heart, was associated with a +strange indignation, that impelled me to fling the doll away from me as +a miserable ridiculous toy. Yet when I grasped it, an electric shock +seemed to dart through all my limbs, and I felt as if a separation from +the talisman of love would annihilate me. I will openly confess to you +that my passion, although the proper object of it was an elementary +spirit, was directed among all sorts of equivocal dreams towards +objects in the miserable world that surrounded me, so that my excited +fancy made now this, now that lady, the representative of the coy +salamander that eluded my embrace. I confessed my wrong, indeed, and +entreated my little mystery to pardon my infidelity; but by the +declining power of that strange crisis, which had ordinarily moved my +inmost soul with glowing love; nay, by a certain unpleasant void, I +could plainly feel that I was receding from my object rather than +approaching it. And yet the passions of a youth, blooming in full +vigour, seemed to deride my mystery and my repugnance. I trembled at +the slightest touch of a charming woman, though I found myself red with +blushes. Chance conducted me again to the _Residence_. I saw the +Countess von L----, the most charming woman, and the greatest lover of +conquests that then shone in the first circles of Berlin. She cast her +glances upon me, and the mood in which I then was, naturally rendered +it very easy for her to lure me completely into her toils. Nay, she at +last induced me to reveal my whole soul, without reserve, to discover +my secret, and even to show her the mysterious image that I wore upon +my breast.” + +“And,” interrupted Albert, “did she not laugh at you heartily, and call +you a besotted youth?” + +“Nothing of the sort,” continued Victor; “she listened to me with a +seriousness which she had not shown on any other occasion, and when I +had finished, she implored me, with tears in her eyes, to renounce the +diabolical arts of the infamous O’Malley. Taking me by both my hands, +and looking at me with an expression of the tenderest love, she spoke +of the dark practices of the cabalistic art in a manner so learned and +so profound, that I was not a little surprised. But my astonishment +reached the highest point, when she called the major the most +abandoned, abominable traitor, for trying to lure me into destruction +by his black art, when I had saved his life. Weary of existence, and +in danger of being crushed to the earth by the deepest ignominy, +O’Malley was, it seems, on the point of shooting himself, when I +stepped in and prevented the suicide, for which he no longer felt any +inclination, as the evil that oppressed him had been averted. The +countess concluded by assuring me, that if the major had plunged me +into a state of psychic distemper, she would save me, and that the +first step to that end would consist in my delivering the little image +into her hands. This I did readily, for thus I thought I should, in +the most beautiful manner, be freed from a useless torment. The +countess would not have been what she really was had she not let a +lover pine a long time in vain,--and this course she pursued with me. +At last, however, my passion was to be requited. At midnight a +confidential servant waited for me at the back door of the palace, and +led me through distant passages into an apartment which the god of love +seemed to have decorated. There I was to expect the countess. Half +overcome by the fumes of the fine scents that wound through the +chamber, trembling with love and expectation, I stood in the midst of +the room. All at once a glance darted through my soul like a flash of +lightning--” + +“How!” cried Albert, “a glance, and no eyes! And you saw nothing? +Another formless form!” + +“You may find it incomprehensible,” said Victor, “but so it was; I +could see no form--nothing, and yet I felt the glance deep in my bosom, +and a sudden pain quivered at the spot which O’Malley had wounded. At +the same moment I perceived upon the chimney-piece my little image, +grasped it, darted from the room, commanded the terrified servant, with +a threatening gesture, to lead me down, ran home, awakened my man Paul, +and had all my things packed up. At the earliest hour of morning I was +already on my way back to Potsdam. I had passed several months at the +_Residence_, my comrades were delighted at my unexpected return, and +kept me fast the whole day, so that I did not return to my quarters +till late at night. I placed the darling image I had recovered upon +the table, and, no longer able to resist the effects of fatigue, threw +myself on my couch without undressing. Soon a dreamy feeling came over +me, as if I were surrounded by a beaming light;--I awoke;--I opened my +eyes, and the room was indeed gleaming with magical radiance. But--Oh, +Heavens!--on the same table on which I had laid the doll, I perceived a +female figure, who, resting her head on her hand, appeared to slumber. +I can only tell you that I never dreamed of a more delicate or graceful +form--a more lovely face. To give you a notion in words of the strange +mysterious magic, which beamed from this lovely figure, I am not able. +She wore a silken flame-coloured dress, which, fitting tight to the +waist and bosom, reached only to the ancles, exhibiting her delicately +formed feet; the lovely arms, which were bare to the shoulders, and +seemed both from their colour and form to have been breathed by Titian, +were adorned with bracelets; in her brown, somewhat reddish hair, a +diamond sparkled.” + +“Oh!” said Albert, smiling, “thy salamandrine has no very exquisite +taste. With reddish brown hair, she dresses in flame-coloured silk.” + +“Do not jest,” continued Victor, “do not jest. I repeat to you that +under the influence of a mysterious magic, my breath was stopped. At +last a deep sigh escaped my oppressed bosom. She then opened her eyes, +raised herself, approached me, and grasped my hand. All the glow of +the most ardent love darted like a flash of lightning through my soul, +when she gently pressed my hand, and whispered with the sweetest +voice,--‘Yes, thou hast conquered--thou art my ruler--I am thine!’ +‘Oh, thou child of the Gods--thou heavenly being!’ I cried aloud; and +embracing her, I pressed her close to my bosom. But at that instant +the creature melted away in my arms.” + +“How!” said Albert, interrupting his friend, “in Heaven’s name, melted +away?” + +“Melted away,” continued Victor, “in my arms. In no other manner can I +describe to you my sensation of the incomprehensible disappearance of +that lovely being. At the same time the glittering light was +extinguished, and I fell, I do not know how, into a profound sleep. +When I awoke I held the doll in my hand. I should weary you if I were +to tell you more of my strange intercourse with that mysterious being, +which now began and lasted for several weeks, than by saying that the +visit was repeated every night in the same manner. Much as I strove +against it, I could not resist the dreamy situation which came over me, +and from which the lovely being awoke me with a kiss. She remained +with me longer and longer on every occasion. She said much concerning +mysterious things, but I listened more to the sweet melody of her +voice, than to the words themselves. Even by day-time I often seemed +to feel the warm breath of some being near me; nay, I often heard a +whispering, a sighing close by me in society, especially when I spoke +with any lady, so that all my thoughts were directed to my lovely +mysterious mistress, and I was dumb and lifeless for all surrounding +objects. It once happened at a party that a lady bashfully approached +me to give me the kiss which I had won at a game of forfeits. But when +I bent to her I felt--before my lips had touched hers--a loud kiss upon +my mouth, and a soft voice whispered at the same time, ‘To me alone do +your kisses belong.’ Both I and the lady were somewhat alarmed, while +the rest of the party thought we had kissed in reality. This kiss I +held to be a sign that Aurora--so I called my mysterious +mistress--would now for good and all take some living shape, and no +more leave me. When the lovely one again appeared to me on the +following night, I entreated her in the usual manner, and in the most +touching words, such as the ardour of love inspired to complete my +happiness, and to be mine for ever in a visible form. She gently +extricated herself from my arms, and then said with mild earnestness, +‘You know in what manner you became my master. My happiest wish was to +belong to you entirely; but the fetters that bind me to the throne to +which the race, of which I am one, is subjected, are only half-broken. +The stronger, the more potent your sway, so much the freer do I feel +from tormenting slavery. Our intercourse will become more and more +intimate, and perhaps the goal may be reached before a year has +elapsed. Would you, beloved, anticipate the destiny that presides over +us, many a sacrifice, many a step, apparently doubtful, might be +necessary.’ ‘No!’ I exclaimed, ‘for me nothing will be a sacrifice, no +step will appear doubtful to obtain thee entirely. I cannot live +longer without thee, I am dying of impatience--of unspeakable pain!’ +Then Aurora embraced me, and whispered in a scarcely audible voice, +‘Art thou happy in my arms?’ ‘There is no other happiness,’ I +exclaimed, and glowing with love even to madness, I pressed the +charming creature to my bosom. I felt living kisses upon my lips, and +these very kisses were melodies of heaven, through which I heard the +words, ‘Couldst thou, to possess me, renounce the happiness of an +unknown hereafter?’ An icy cold shudder trembled through me, but in +the midst of this shudder passion raged still more furiously, and I +cried in the involuntary madness of love, ‘Without thee there is no +happiness!--I renounce--’ + +“I still believe that I stopped here. ‘To-morrow night our compact +will be concluded,’ whispered Aurora, and I felt that she was about to +vanish from my arms. I pressed her to me with greater force, she +seemed to struggle in vain, when suddenly--I awoke from deep slumber, +thinking of the Devil Amor, and the seductive Biondetta. What I had +done in that fatal night fell heavily upon my soul. I thought of that +unholy invocation by the horrible O’Malley, of the warnings of my pious +young friend. I believed that I was in the toils of the evil one--that +I was lost. Torn to the very depth of my soul, I sprang up and +hastened into the open air. In the street I was met by the major, who +held me fast while he said: ‘I congratulate you, lieutenant! To tell +you the truth, I scarcely gave you credit for so much courage and +resolution; you outstrip your master.’ Glowing with rage and shame, +incapable of uttering a single word, I freed myself from his grasp and +pursued my way. The major laughed behind me, and I could detect the +scornful laughter of Satan. In the road near those fatal ruins, I +perceived a veiled female form, who, lying under a tree, seemed +absorbed in a soliloquy. I approached her cautiously, and overheard +the words: ‘He is mine, he is mine--Oh! bliss of heaven! Even the last +trial he has withstood. If men are capable of such love, what is our +wretched existence without it?’ You may guess that it was Aurora whom +I found. She threw back her veil, and love itself cannot be more +charming. The delicate paleness of her cheeks, the glance that was +sublimed into the sweetest melancholy, made me tremble with unspeakable +pleasure. I felt ashamed of my dark thoughts; yet at the very moment +when I wished to throw myself at her feet, she had vanished like a form +of mist. At the same time I heard a sound in the hedges, as of one +clearing one’s throat, and out stepped my honest Eulenspiegel, Paul +Talkebarth. ‘Whence did the devil bring you, fellow?’ I began. + +“‘No, no,’ said he, with that queer smile which you know, ‘the devil +did not bring me here, but very likely he met me. You went out so +early, gracious lieutenant, and had forgotten your pipe and tobacco, +and I thought so early in the morning, in the damp air--for my aunt at +Genthin used to say--’ + +“‘Hold your tongue, prattle, and give me that,’ cried I, as I made him +hand me the lighted pipe. Scarcely, however, had we proceeded a few +paces, than Paul began again very softly, ‘My aunt at Genthin used to +say, the Root-mannikin (Wurzelmännlein) was not to be trusted; indeed, +such a chap was no better than an incubus or a chezim, and ended by +breaking one’s heart. Old coffee Lizzy here in the suburbs--ah, +gracious sir, you should only see what fine flowers, and men, and +animals she can pour out. Man should help himself as he can, my aunt +at Genthin used to say. I was yesterday with Lizzy and took her a +little fine mocha. One of us has a heart as well as the rest--Becker’s +Dolly is a pretty thing, but then there is something so odd about her +eyes, so salamander-like’-- + +“‘What is that you say, fellow?’ I exclaimed, hastily. Paul was +silent, but began again in a few seconds: ‘Yes, Lizzy is a good woman +after all; she said, after she had looked at the coffee grounds, that +there was nothing the matter with Dolly, and that the salamander look +about the eyes came from cracknel-baking or the dancing-room; but, at +the same time, she advised me to remain single, and told me that a +certain good gentleman was in great danger. These salamanders, she +said, are the worst sort of things that the devil employs to lure a +poor human soul to destruction, because they have certain passions--ah, +one must only stand firm and keep God in one’s heart--then I myself saw +in the coffee grounds Major O’Malley quite like and natural.’ + +“I bid the fellow hold his tongue, but you may conceive the feelings +that were awakened in me at this strange discourse of Paul’s, whom I +suddenly found initiated into my dark secret, and who so unexpectedly +displayed a knowledge of cabalistic matters, for which he was probably +indebted to the coffee-prophetess. I passed the most uneasy day I ever +had in my life. Paul was not to be got out of the room all that +evening, but was constantly returning and finding something to do. +When it was near midnight, and he was at last obliged to go, he said +softly, as if praying to himself: ‘Bear God in thy heart--think of the +salvation of thy soul--and thou wilt resist the enticements of Satan.’ + +“I cannot describe the manner--I may almost say, the fearful manner--in +which my soul was moved at these simple words of my servant. All my +endeavours to keep myself awake were in vain. I fell into that state +of confused dreaming, which I could not look upon as natural, but as +the operation of some foreign principle. The magical beaming woke me +as usual. Aurora in the full lustre of supernatural beauty, stood +before me, and passionately stretched her arms towards me. +Nevertheless, Paul’s pious words shone in my soul as if written there +with letters of fire. ‘Depart, thou seductive birth of hell!’ I cried, +when the terrible O’Malley, now of a gigantic stature, rose before me, +and piercing me with eyes, from which an infernal fire was flashing, +howled out: ‘Resist not--poor atom of humanity. Thou hast become +ours!’ My courage could have withstood the frightful aspect of the +most hideous spectre, but I lost my senses at the sight of O’Malley, +and fell to the ground. + +“A loud report awoke me from this state of stupefaction. I felt myself +held by the arms of a man, and struggled with all the force of despair, +to free myself. ‘Gracious lieutenant, it is I,’ said a voice in my +ears. It was honest Paul who endeavoured to raise me from the ground. +I let him have his own way. He would not at first tell me plainly how +all had happened, but he at last assured me, with a mysterious smile, +that he knew better to what unholy acquaintance the major had lured me, +than I could suspect. The old pious Lizzy had revealed every thing to +him. He had not gone to sleep the night before, but had well loaded +his gun, and had watched at the door. When he had heard me cry aloud +and fall to the ground, he had, although his courage failed him a +little, burst open the door and entered. ‘There,’ he continued in his +mad way, ‘there stood Major O’Malley before me, as frightful to look +upon as in the cup of coffee. He grinned at me hideously, but I did +not allow myself to be stirred from my purpose and said: ‘If, gracious +major, you are the devil, pardon me for stepping boldly up to you as a +pious Christian and saying to you: ‘Avaunt, thou cursed Satan-Major, I +command thee in the name of the Lord. Begone, or I will fire!’ The +major would not give way, but kept on grinning at me, and began to +abuse me. I then cried, ‘Shall I fire?--shall I fire? and when he +persisted in keeping his place I fired in reality. But all had +vanished--both Major Satan and Mam’sell Belzebub had departed through +the wall!’ + +“The continued strain upon the mind during the period that had just +passed, together with the last frightful moments, threw me upon a +tedious sick-bed. When I recovered I left Potsdam, without seeing any +more of O’Malley, whose further fate has remained unknown to me. The +image of those portentous days grew fainter and fainter, and at last +vanished all together, so that I recovered perfect freedom of mind, +until here--” + +“Well,” asked Albert, with the greatest curiosity and astonishment, “do +you mean to say you have lost your freedom again here? I cannot +conceive, why here--” + +“Oh,” said Victor, interrupting his friend, while his tone became +somewhat solemn, “I can explain all in two words. In the sleepless +nights of the illness, I endured here, all the dreams of that noblest +and most terrible period of my life were revived. It was my glowing +passion itself, that assumed a form--Aurora--she again appeared to +me--glorified--purified in the fire of Heaven;--no devilish O’Malley +has further power over her--Aurora is--the baroness!” + +“How! what!” cried Albert, shrinking with horror. Then he muttered to +himself, “The little plump housewife with the great bunch of keys--she +an elementary spirit!--she a salamander!”--and he felt a difficulty in +suppressing his laughter. + +“In the figure,” continued Victor, “there is no longer any trace of +resemblance to be found, that is to say, in ordinary life; but the +mysterious fire that flashes from her eyes,--the pressure of her +hand.”-- + +“You have been very ill,” said Albert, gravely, “for the wound you +received in your head was serious enough to put your life in peril; but +now I find you are so far recovered that you will be able to go with +me. From the very bottom of my heart I implore you, my dear,--my +beloved friend, to leave this place, and accompany me to-morrow to +Aix-la-Chapelle.” + +“I certainly do not intend to remain here any longer,” replied Victor. +“so I will go with you; however, let this matter first be cleared up.” + +The next morning, when Albert woke, Victor told him that a strange, +ghostly sort of dream had revealed to him the mysterious word, which +O’Malley had taught him, when they prepared the Teraphim. He thought +that he would make use of it for the last time. Albert shook his head +doubtfully, and caused every thing to be got ready for a speedy +departure, while Paul Talkebarth evinced the most joyful activity by +all sorts of mad expressions. “Zackermanthö,” he muttered to himself +in Albert’s hearing, “It is a good thing that the devil Bear fetched +the Irish devil Foot long ago, otherwise there would have been +something wrong now.” + +Victor, as he had wished, found the baroness alone in her room, +occupied with some domestic work. He told her that he was now at last +about to quit the house, where he had enjoyed such noble hospitality. +The baroness assured him that she had never entertained a friend more +dear to her. Victor then took her hand, and asked her if she were ever +at Potsdam, and knew a certain Irish Major. “Victor,” said the +baroness interrupting him hastily, “we shall part to-day, we shall +never see each other again; nay, we must not. A dark veil hangs over +my life. Let it suffice if I tell you that a fearful destiny condemns +me always to appear a different being from the one which I really am. +In the hateful position in which you have found me, and which causes me +spiritual torments, which my bodily health seems to belie, I am atoning +for a heavy fault--yet no more--farewell!” Upon this, Victor cried +with a loud voice: “Nehelmiahmiheal!” and the baroness, with a shriek +of horror, fell senseless to the ground. Victor under the influence of +a storm of strange feelings, and quite beside himself could scarcely +summon resolution enough to ring the bell. However, having done this, +he rushed from the chamber. “At once,--let us leave at once!” he cried +to his friend, and told him in a few words what had happened. Both +leaped upon the horses that had been brought for them, and rode off +without waiting for the return of the baron, who had gone out hunting. + +Albert’s reflections on the ride from Liège to Aix-la-Chapelle have +already shown, with what profound earnestness, with what noble feeling, +he had appreciated the events of that fatal period. On the journey to +the Residence, whither the two friends now returned, he succeeded in +completely delivering Victor from the dreamy condition into which he +had sunk, and while Albert brought to his friend’s mind, depicted in +the most lively colours, all the monstrous occurrences which the days +of the last campaign had brought forth, the latter felt himself +animated by the same spirit as that which dwelt in Albert. And +although Albert never ventured upon long contradictions or doubts, +Victor himself now seemed to look upon his mystical adventure, as +nothing but a bad dream. + +In the Residence it was natural that the ladies were favourably +disposed to the colonel, who was rich, of noble figure, young for the +high rank which he held, and who, moreover, was amiability itself. +Albert looked upon him as a lucky man, who might choose the fairest for +a wife, but Victor observed, very seriously: “Whether it was, that I +had been mystified, and, by wicked means, made to serve some unknown +end, or whether an evil power really tried to tempt me, this much is +certain, that though the past has not cost me my happiness, it has +deprived me of the paradise of love. Never can that time return, when +I felt the highest earthly felicity, when the ideal of my sweetest, +most transporting dreams, nay, love itself, was in my arms. Love and +pleasure have vanished, since a horrible mystery deprived me of her, +who to my inmost heart was really a higher being, such as I shall not +again find upon earth!” + +The colonel remained unmarried. + +J. O. + + +[1] _Eulenspiegelei_ signifies odd practical jokes, and is derived from +Eulenspiegel, the traditional perpetrator of such pleasantries.--J. O. + +[2] Calderon’s “Medico de su honra.” + + + + +SAINT CECILIA; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC. + +A CATHOLIC LEGEND, BY HEINRICH VON KLEIST. + +Towards the end of the sixteenth century, when iconoclasm was raging in +the Netherlands, three young brothers, who all studied at Wittenberg, +chanced to meet at Aix-la-Chapelle with a fourth, who had been +appointed preacher at Antwerp. They wished to take possession of an +inheritance, which had fallen to them by the death of an old uncle, +perfectly unknown to all of them, and had turned into an inn, because +no one was on the spot to whom they could apply. After the lapse of +some days, which they had passed in listening to the preacher’s +accounts of the remarkable occurrences that had taken place in the +Netherlands, it chanced that the festival of _Corpus Christi_ was just +about to be solemnised by the nuns of St. Cecilia’s convent, which then +stood before the city gates. The four brothers heated with fanaticism, +youth, and the example of the Netherlands, determined to give the town +of Aix-la-Chapelle a spectacle of image-breaking. The preacher, who +had been more than once at the head of such enterprises, assembled in +the evening preceding the festival a number of young tradesmen and +students, devoted to the new doctrine, who spent the night in eating +and drinking at the inn. Day had no sooner appeared over the +battlements than they provided themselves with axes and all sorts of +instruments of destruction, to begin their violent work. Exulting with +delight, they agreed upon a signal at which they would begin to knock +in the windows, which were painted over with biblical subjects, and, +secure of finding a great number of followers among the people, they +betook themselves to the cathedral, at the hour when the bells first +rang, with the determination not to leave one stone upon another. The +abbess, who, as early as daybreak, had been informed by a friend of the +peril in which the convent stood, sent several times, but always in +vain, to the imperial officer who held command in the town, requesting +him to appoint a guard for the protection of the convent. The officer, +who, clandestinely at least, was favorably imposed towards the new +doctrine, refused her request, under the pretext that she was merely +dreaming, and that not the slightest danger to her convent was to be +apprehended. In the meanwhile the hour appointed for the commencement +of the solemnities arrived, and the nuns prepared themselves for mass, +praying and trembling with the apprehension of approaching events. The +bailiff of the convent, an old man, aged seventy, with a troop of armed +servants, whom he had posted at the entrance of the church, was their +only protection. In nuns’ convents, it is well known, the sisters +themselves, who are well practised in every sort of instrument, are +their own musicians, and they play with a precision, a feeling, and an +intelligence, which we often miss in orchestras of men, probably +because there is something feminine in this mysterious art. Now it +happened, to increase the embarrassment, that the conductress of the +orchestra, Sister Antonia, had fallen sick of a nervous fever some days +before, and the consequence was, that the whole convent was in the +greatest tumult about the performance of a suitable piece of music, to +say nothing of the fact that the four profane brothers were already +visible, wrapped in mantles among the pillars of the church. The +abbess who, on the evening of the preceding day, had ordered the +performance of a very old Italian mass, by an unknown master, with +which the greatest effect had always been produced on account of its +peculiarly sacred and solemn character, and who was now more than ever +bent on her purpose, sent again to sister Antonia to know how she was. +The nun who took the message, returned with the intelligence that the +sister lay in a perfectly unconscious condition and that all notion of +her conducting the music must be entirely given up. In the meanwhile, +there had already been several very critical scenes in the convent into +which more than a hundred impious persons of all ranks and ages, armed +with hatchets and crowbars, had gradually found their way. Some of the +guards who stood at the portals had been shamefully annoyed, and the +nuns, who, engaged in their holy offices, had from time to time +appeared singly in the porticoes, were insulted by the most unseemly +expressions. At last the bailiff retreated to the sacristy, and there +upon his knees implored the abbess to stop the festival, and to seek +the protection of the commander in the city. But the abbess was +immoveable, insisting that the festival which had been instituted for +the honour of the Deity must take its course. She reminded the bailiff +that it was his duty to defend the mass, and all the solemnities of the +cathedral with life and limb, and as the bell had rang, ordered the +nuns, who surrounded her, shaking and trembling, to take an oratorium +of some sort or other, and make a beginning by performing it. + +The nuns had just taken their places in the organ-loft, the different +parts of a composition that had already been frequently played, were +distributed, violins, oboes, and bass-viols were tried and tuned, when +suddenly Sister Antonia, quite fresh and well, though her face was a +little pale, appeared from the stairs. She had under her arm the parts +of the old Italian mass, on the performance of which the abbess had so +earnestly insisted. To the questions of the nuns, who asked with +astonishment whence she came, and how she had so suddenly recovered, +she replied, “No matter, friends, no matter!” distributed the parts she +had carried, and glowing with enthusiasm, sat down to the organ, to +undertake the direction of the excellent composition. This phenomenon +was a wonderful and truly heavenly consolation to the hearts of the +pious ladies; they at once sat down to their desks with their +instruments, and the very embarrassment in which they were placed, had +the effect of bearing their souls, as if upon wings, through all the +heaven of harmony. The oratorium was played with a musical +magnificence of the noblest and highest kind. Not a breath was heard +through the benches and aisles, and when the Salve Regina, and still +more, when the _Gloria in excelsis_ was performed, it was as if the +whole population in the church was dead. In spite of the four profane +brothers and their followers, not so much as the dust on the pavement +was disturbed, and the cloister remained standing till the end of the +“Thirty Years’ War,” when it was secularized by virtue of a clause in +the “Treaty of Westphalia.” + +Six years had passed, and this occurrence had been long forgotten, when +the mother of the four youths came from the Hague, and mournfully +alleging that they had completely disappeared, instituted judicial +inquiries with the magistrates of Aix-la-Chapelle, to learn what road +they had taken from the city. The last account that had been received +of them in the Netherlands, where they purposely resided, was, as she +said, contained in a letter which the preacher had written to his +friend, a schoolmate at Antwerp, on the eve of a _Corpus Christi_ day. +The preacher, with great cheerfulness, or rather wantonness, had +closely filled four sides of this letter with the account of an +enterprise which he had projected against the Convent of St. Cecilia, +and which the mother would not enter upon more particularly. After +many vain endeavours to find the persons whom this afflicted lady was +seeking, it was at last remembered that seven years ago--at a time +which seemed to correspond to the account--four young people, whose +country and origin was unknown, had been put in the madhouse, which had +been recently erected in the city by the emperor. However, as these +persons were affected by religious extravagance, and their +deportment--as the court believed it had heard--was exceedingly +melancholy, this account seemed to accord so little with the +disposition of the sons--which was but too well known to the mother +that there was no need for her to attach much importance to it, +especially as it was pretty evident that the persons were Catholics. +However, as she was struck by many peculiarities which were described +to her, she went one day to the madhouse accompanied by one of the +messengers of the court, and asked the superintendent to allow her to +examine four unfortunate lunatics who were confined there. But who can +describe the poor lady’s horror, when, on entering the door, she +recognised her sons at the very first glance. They were dressed in +long black robes, and were sitting round a table, on which was a +crucifix. This they appeared to worship, leaning silently and with +folded hands upon the board. To the questions of the lady, who had +sunk into a chair quite exhausted, as to what they were doing, the +superintendents replied, that they were merely occupied in the +glorification of the Redeemer, of whose divinity, according to their +own account, they had a clearer knowledge than others. They added that +the young men had led this ghost-like life for six years, that they +slept little and tasted little, that no sound usually passed their +lips, and that it was only at the hour of midnight that they rose from +their seats, when, with voices loud enough to shatter the windows of +the house, they sang the _Gloria in excelsis_. The superintendents +concluded with the remark that the young men enjoyed perfect bodily +health, that a certain serenity, though of a very serious and solemn +kind, could not be denied them, and that when they heard themselves +called mad, they shrugged their shoulders with an air of compassion, +and had more than once declared that the good city of Aix-la-Chapelle +if it knew what they knew, would cease from all business and likewise +devote itself to singing the _Gloria_ round the crucifix. + +The lady, who could not support the horrible sight of her unfortunate +sons, and who was soon led back tottering to her house, set off on the +following morning to Herr Veit Gotthelf, a celebrated cloth-merchant of +the city, to gain some intelligence as to the cause of this unfortunate +occurrence. She did so because the letter from the preacher mentioned +this man, and showed that he had taken a lively interest in the plan +for destroying the cloister of St. Cecilia on Corpus Christi day. Veit +Gotthelf, the cloth-merchant, who had become a husband and a father +since the time, and had moreover undertaken his father’s extensive +business, received his visitor very kindly, and when he heard the +affair that had brought her to him, bolted the door, and having +requested her to take a seat, proceeded as follows: + +“My good lady, if you will promise to subject me to no legal +investigation, I will tell you all, truly and without reserve. I was +indeed on intimate terms with your sons six years ago,--yes, we +entertained the project which is mentioned in the letter. How the +plan, for the execution of which, the most careful preparations were +made with truly impious acuteness, proved a failure, is to me utterly +incomprehensible. Heaven itself seems to have taken the convent of +those pious ladies under its holy protection. For you must know that +your sons had already, as a prelude to some determined action, +interrupted divine service by all sorts of ribaldry, and that more than +three hundred rascals gathered together within the walls of our then +misguided city, and armed with hatchets and links only waited for the +signal which the preacher was to make, to level the cathedral with the +ground. Directly the music began, your sons, with a simultaneous +movement and in a manner that surprised us, suddenly took off their +hats; as if overcome by deep inexpressible emotion, they bowed down +their faces, and gradually covered them with their hands. At last the +preacher suddenly turning round, after an astounding pause, called to +us with a loud terrific voice to uncover our heads also. In vain did +some of his comrades whisper to him, and sportively jogging him with +their arms, desire him to give the concerted signal for destruction, +the preacher, instead of answering sank upon his knees, with his hands +crossed on his heart, and fervently laying his forehead in the dust, +with all his brothers, recommenced the whole series of prayers, that he +had before derided. The crowd of miserable fanatics, deprived of their +leader, and utterly confounded by the spectacle I have described, +remained in a state of irresolution and inactivity till the conclusion +of the oratorium, which pealed down wondrously from the organ-loft, and +as at this moment several arrests were made by order of the commanding +officer, and some wicked fellows who had behaved indecorously, were +seized and led off by a guard, the wretched troop had nothing to do but +to avail themselves as speedily as possible of the shelter of the crowd +that rose to depart, thus to escape from the cathedral. In the +evening, after vainly asking several times for your sons at the inn, +whither they had not returned, I went with some friends to the convent +in a state of the greatest uneasiness that I might make inquiries of +the door-keepers, who had assisted the imperial guard. How, noble +lady, shall I describe my horror, when I saw the four men as before, +with the hands folded, touching the ground with their heads and +breasts, as though they had been petrified there--in short, bowed down +before the altar of the church with the most intense devotion? In vain +did the bailiff of the convent, who came up at this moment, pull them +by their cloaks, and shake them by their arms, and desire them to leave +the cathedral, which was already growing quite dark, and in which +nobody was left; half-rising in their dreamy fashion they did not +listen to him, until he ordered his men to take them up by the arms, +and lead them out at the porch. Then, at last, they followed us into +the city, though not without sighing, and frequently looking back, with +the most heart-rending sorrow, at the cathedral, which shone gloriously +behind us in the light of the setting sun. The other friends and I +repeatedly, and in the most affectionate manner, asked them what +terrible cause could possibly have produced such a thorough change in +their minds. They looked kindly upon us, and from time to time, with +an expression that still cuts me to the heart, wiped the tears from +their eyes. When they had reached their dwelling, they ingeniously +fashioned a cross of birchen-twigs, and fixed it in a little pyramid of +wax on the large table in the middle of the room between two candles, +with which the servant had made her appearance. While the friends, +whose number increased hourly, stood by, wringing their hands, and in +scattered groups, and speechless with grief, looked at their quiet +ghost-like proceedings, they seated themselves down at the table, as if +their senses were closed to every other object, and folding their +hands, began their devotions. They neither desired the repast, which +the servant brought in to regale their companions, according to the +orders they had left in the morning, nor afterwards, when night +advanced, did they care for the couch which she had set up in the +adjoining room, because they appeared weary. The friends, that they +might not provoke the anger of the host, who seemed much surprised at +the whole proceeding, sat down to a side-table profusely covered, and +ate the viands, which had been prepared for a large party, salting them +at the same time with their tears. The hour of midnight now suddenly +struck, and your four sons, after listening for a moment to the dull +sound of the bell, rose from their seats with a simultaneous movement, +and while we, laying down our napkins, looked at them, anxious to know +what would follow so strange a commencement, they began to sing the +_Gloria in excelsis_ in the most hideous and horrible voice. The sound +of leopards and wolves, when on an icy winters night they roar at the +sky, may be something like it. The pillars of the house, I assure you, +were shaken, and the window-panes smitten by the visible breath from +their lungs, rattled and threatened to fall in, as if handfuls of heavy +sand were dashed against their surface. At this frightful sight we +lost all self-possession, and with hair erect, we darted off in +different directions. Leaving hats and cloaks behind us, we dispersed +through the neighbouring streets, which in a short time were filled, +not with us, but with more than a hundred men who had been awakened +from sleep. The people bursting open the hall-door hurried upstairs to +the room, to discover the source of these fearful and revolting howls, +which seemed to implore the divine mercy, as if from the lips of +condemned sinners in the deepest abyss of the infernal regions. At +last when the clock struck one, the brothers, without having listened +to the indignation of the host, or the exclamations of horror that were +uttered by the people, closed their lips, wiped with a handkerchief +from their forehead the perspiration which fell upon their chin and +breast in large drops, and, spreading out their cloaks, lay down on the +floor to rest an hour from such painful labours. The host, who let +them take their own course, made the sign of the cross over them as +soon as he saw them asleep; and glad to get rid of the infliction, for +the time at least, induced the assembled crowd of people, who were +whispering mysteriously to one another, to leave the room, under the +assurance that the morning would bring with it a salutary change. But, +alas! with the first crow of the cock, the unhappy men rose again to +recommence before the cross which stood on the table, the same dreary, +ghost-like cloister-life, which exhaustion alone had interrupted for +the moment. They would receive no assistance nor advice from their +host, whose heart was melted at their mournful aspect; they merely +asked him to dismiss with kindness their friends, who were in the habit +of assembling about them every day. They wished nothing from him but +bread and water, and a litter of straw, if possible, for the night, so +that the man who used to derive a good profit from their convivial +disposition, was now obliged to submit the whole case to the legal +authorities, and to request them to remove from his house the four +persons, who, without doubt, were possessed of an evil spirit. By +order of the magistrates they underwent a medical examination, and +being proved mad, they were, as you know, removed to the lunatic +asylum, which the benevolence of our late emperor founded for the +benefit of such unfortunate persons within our walls.” + +This was said by Veit Gotthelf, the cloth merchant, with much besides, +which we suppress, as we think we have said enough to give a clear +insight into the real state of the case. When he had finished he again +requested the lady not to implicate him in any manner, should the case +undergo a legal investigation. + +Three days afterwards the lady who had been greatly shocked at the +account she had heard, took advantage of the fine weather and walked to +the convent, leaning on the arm of a female friend, with the mournful +purpose of surveying the fearful spot where the Almighty had stricken +down her sons, as it were, by invisible lightning. They found the +entrance of the cathedral boarded up, because some building was going +on, and even with straining were unable to see through the chinks of +the boards, any thing but the rosace-window which sparkled +magnificently in the back of the church. Hundreds of workmen, who were +singing merry songs, were on intricate, lightly-built scaffoldings, +occupied in making the towers a good third higher, and in covering the +cross and battlements, which had hitherto been only slated, with +strong, bright copper, which shone in the sunbeams. A thunder-cloud, +completely black, with borders of gold, was behind the building. When +it had spoken its thunder over Aix-la-Chapelle, and had darted some +ineffectual flashes in the direction of the cathedral, it sank +grumbling into the east, dissolved in vapour. It happened that while +the ladies were, from the steps of the spacious convent, contemplating +the double spectacle, absorbed in various thoughts, a nun who was +passing by learned who it was that was standing under the portico. The +abbess, therefore, who had heard of a letter respecting the affair of +the _Corpus Christi_ day, in the possession of the Netherland lady, +immediately sent the sister to her, requesting her to walk up. The +Netherland lady, although surprised for the moment, respectfully +complied with the request; and while her friend, at the invitation of +the nun, retired to a room near the entrance, the folding doors of the +beautifully-formed gallery were thrown open to the visitor who ascended +the stairs. There she found the abbess, who was a noble lady, of calm, +and even royal aspect, with her foot resting upon a stool supported by +dragons’ claws. On a desk by her side lay the score of a piece of +music. The abbess, after she had desired her visiter to take a chair, +told her that she had been already informed of her arrival by the +burgomaster. When she had inquired after the state of the unfortunate +sons in the kindest manner, and had recommended her to console herself +as to their fate, now it was not to be altered, she expressed a wish to +see the letter which the preacher had sent to his friend, the +schoolmaster, at Antwerp. The lady, who had experience enough to see +what would be the consequence of such a step, felt confused for the +moment. However, as the venerable countenance of the abbess inspired +her with unlimited confidence, and it was by no means credible that she +could have any design of making a public use of the contents of the +letter, she took it from her bosom, after a short hesitation, and +handed it to the noble lady, fervently kissing her hand. Whilst the +abbess was reading the letter, she cast a look at the score, which +happened to lie open on the desk; and as the cloth merchant’s narrative +had given her the notion that it might have been the power of music +that had turned the brains of her poor sons on that awful day, she +timidly turned round, and asked the nun who stood behind her chair, +whether that was the composition which had been played in the cathedral +on the memorable _Corpus Christi_ day, six years ago. The young nun +answered in the affirmative, saying that she remembered hearing of the +affair, and that since then, when the music was not used, it was +generally kept in the abbess’s room. At this the lady, deeply moved, +arose and placed herself before the desk, occupied by various thoughts. +She looked at the magical unknown signs, with which, as it seemed, some +fearful spirit had mysteriously marked out its circle, and was ready to +sink into the ground, when she found the “_Gloria in excelsis_” open. +It seemed to her as if the whole terrors of music, which had proved the +destruction of her sons, were whirling over her head; at the mere sight +of the score her senses seemed to be leaving her, and with an +infinitely strong feeling of humility and submission to the divine +power, she heartily pressed the leaf to her lips, and then again seated +herself in her chair. The abbess had, in the meanwhile, read the +letter, and said, as she folded it up: “God himself, on that wonderful +day, preserved the cloister from the wantonness of your misguided sons. +The means that He employed may be indifferent to you, since you are a +Protestant; indeed, you would hardly understand what I could reveal to +you on the subject. For you must know that nobody has the least notion +who it was, that under the pressure of that fearful hour, when +destruction was ready to fall upon us, calmly sat at the organ, and +conducted the work which you there find open. By evidence taken on the +following morning, in the presence of the bailiff of the convent and +several other persons, as recorded in our archives, it is proved that +Sister Antonia, the only one among us who knew how to conduct the work, +lay in the corner of her cell, sick, insensible, and without the use of +her limbs during the whole time of its performance. A nun who, as a +personal relative, was appointed to take charge of her, never stirred +from her bedside during the whole morning on which the festival of +_Corpus Christi_ was celebrated in the cathedral. Nay, Sister Antonia +would herself have confirmed the fact, that it was not she who in such +a strange and surprising manner appeared in the organ-loft, had her +insensible condition allowed her to be questioned on the subject, and +had she not, on the evening of the same day, died of the nervous fever +of which she lay ill, and which did not before appear to be dangerous. +The Archbishop of Trèves, to whom the occurrence was related, has given +the only possible explanation; viz., that St. Cecilia herself performed +this miracle, which is at once so sublime and so fearful; and I have +received a communication from the pope, in which this explanation is +confirmed.” + +The abbess returned to the lady the letter, which she had merely asked +for to gain some further information on a matter which she already +partially knew, promising at the same time that she would make no use +of it. Then inquiring whether there were any hopes of her sons’ +recovery, and whether by money or other assistance she could do any +thing towards that end--questions which the weeping abbess, while she +kissed her gown, answered in the negative--she kindly shook hands with +her, and dismissed her. + +Thus ends this legend. The lady, whose presence in Aix-la-Chapelle was +not required, deposited with the legal tribunals a small sum for the +benefit of her poor sons, and then returned to the Hague, where, in the +course of the year, deeply moved by the event which had taken place, +she returned to the bosom of the Catholic church. The sons died a calm +and happy death, at a late old age, after they had once more sung the +“_Gloria in excelsis_” as usual. + +J. O. + + + + +THE NEW PARIS. + +A CHILD’S TALE, BY J. W. GOETHE. + +[The following fanciful tale occurs in the autobiography of Goethe, to +which he has given the name of “Dichtung und Wahrheit.” He is supposed +to tell it, in his childhood, to a party of juvenile friends, and he +introduces it thus: + +“I could afford great amusement to my friend, Pylades, and other +kindly-disposed acquaintance, by telling them stories. They liked +them, especially when I told them in my own person, being much +delighted to hear that such odd things could befall their play-fellow. +As for the question when I could find time and place for such +adventures--that was no matter, indeed they pretty well knew all my +ingoings and outgoings, and how I employed myself. To such events, +localities, taken from another spot, if not from another world, were +absolutely necessary, but nevertheless I made every thing happen on the +very day I told it, or the day before. My hearers, therefore, were +less deluded by me, than deceived by themselves. Had I not, in +conformity to my natural disposition learned to mould these aëriel +nothings into something like an artistical form, such vain-glorious +beginnings, would certainly have turned out badly for me in the end. + +“If we duly consider this impulse, we may discover in it that +assumption, with which the poet ventures to utter the greatest +improbabilities in a tone of authority, and requires that every one +shall acknowledge that to be real, which to him, the inventor, may +appear to be true in any manner whatever. + +“However, what is said above, in general terms, and in the form of +reflection, may be rendered more agreeable, and at the same time more +perceptible by an example. I therefore add such a tale--one, which as +I used to repeat it often to my playmates, still distinctly floats +before my imagination and in my memory.”] + + +Lately, on the night before Whit Sunday, I dreamed that I was standing +before a mirror, occupying myself with my new summer suit, which my +parents had had made against the approaching festival. The dress +consisted, as you well know, of shoes of nice leather, with great +silver buckles, fine cotton stockings, breeches of black serge, and a +coat of green barracan, with gold buttons. The waistcoat, of +gold-stuff, had been cut out of the one worn by my father on his +wedding-day. My hair was dressed and powdered, my curls stood upon my +head like little wings,--but I could not finish dressing myself; for I +continually changed the articles of wearing apparel, and the first +always dropped off when I was about to put on the second. While I was +thus embarrassed, a handsome young man came up to me, and greeted me in +the kindest manner. “Welcome,” said I, “it gives me great pleasure to +see you here.”--“Do you know me then?” asked he, smiling. “Why not?” I +replied, smiling in my turn. “You are Mercury, and I have often enough +seen pictures of you.”--“I am, indeed,” said he, “and I have been sent +to you by the gods on an important mission. Do you see these three +apples?” stretching out his hand, he showed me three apples, which from +their size he could scarcely hold, and which were as wonderfully +beautiful as they were large. One was green, another yellow, and the +third red, and they looked like precious stones, to which the shape of +fruit had been given. I wished to take them, but he drew me back, +saying, “You must first know, that they are not for you. You are to +give them to the three handsomest young persons in the town, who will, +every one according to his lot, find wives to their heart’s content. +There, take them and manage the matter well,” he added, as he quitted +me, and placed the apples in my open hand. They seemed to me to have +become even larger than they were before. I held them against the +light, and found they were quite transparent, but soon they grew +taller, and at last became three pretty--very pretty little ladies, of +the height of a moderate-sized doll, with dresses of the colours of the +apples. In this form they glided softly up my fingers, and when I was +about to make a catch at them, that I might secure one at least, they +soared up far away, so that I could do nothing but look after them. +There I stood quite astounded and petrified, with my hands high in the +air, and still staring at my fingers, as if their was something to be +seen upon them. All of a sudden I perceived upon the very tips a +charming little girl, very pretty and lively, though smaller than the +others. As she did not fly away, like them, but remained with me, and +danced about, now on this finger, now on that, I looked at her for some +time, in a state of astonishment. She pleased me so much, that I +fancied I might catch her, and was just on the point of making a +grasp--as I thought very cleverly--when I felt a blow on the head, that +caused me to fall completely stunned, and did not awaken from the +stupor it occasioned till it was time to dress and go to church. + +I often recalled the images to my mind during divine service, and at my +grandfather’s table where I dined. In the afternoon I went to visit +some friends, both because such visits were due, and because I wished +to show myself in my new clothes, with my hat under my arm and my sword +by my side. Finding no one at home, and hearing that they were all +gone to the gardens, I resolved to follow them, intending to pass a +pleasant evening. My way led me along the town wall, and I soon came +to the spot which is called the “evil wall,” and rightly enough, for +there is reason to believe it is always haunted. Walking slowly along, +I thought of my three goddesses, and still more of the little nymph, +and often held my fingers up in the air in the hope that she would be +kind enough to balance herself upon them once more. As I proceeded, +occupied with these thoughts, I discerned in the wall, on my left hand, +a little wicket which I did not remember to have perceived before. It +appeared low, but the pointed arch was such as to afford room for the +tallest man to enter. The arch and the wall on either side had been +most richly carved by the mason and the sculptor, but my attention was +most attracted by the door itself. The old brown wood of which it was +made had been but little ornamented, but broad bands of brass were +attached to it, worked both in relief and in _intaglio_. The foliage +which was represented on this brass, and on which the most natural +birds were sitting, I could not sufficiently admire. I was, however, +most surprised at seeing no keyhole, no latch, no knocker, and from the +absence of these I surmised that the door only opened from within. I +was not mistaken, for when I went close to it, to feel the carved work, +it opened inwards, and a man, whose dress was somewhat long, wide, and +altogether singular, appeared before me. A venerable beard flowed +about his chin, and I was, therefore, inclined to take him for a Jew. +As if he had divined my thoughts he made the sign of the holy cross, +thereby giving me to understand that he was a good Catholic Christian. +“Young gentleman, how did you come here, and what are you doing?” said +he, with friendly voice and gesture. “I am admiring the work of this +door,” I replied, “for I have never seen any thing like it, except, +perhaps, in small pieces, in the collection of amateurs.” “I am +delighted,” said he, “that you take pleasure in such work. The door is +still more beautiful on the inner side, pray walk in if you choose.” +This affair made me feel somewhat uncomfortable. I felt embarrassed by +the strange dress of the porter, by the retired situation of the place, +and a certain indescribable something in the air. I paused, therefore, +under the pretext of looking longer at the outside, and at the same +time cast furtive glances at the garden--for a garden it was which had +just been opened to me. Immediately behind the gate I saw a space +completely shaded by the closely entwined branches of some old linden +trees, which had been planted at regular intervals, so that the most +numerous assembly might have rested there during the most intense heat +of the day. I had already set my foot on the threshold, and the old +man was well able to lure me on a step further. Indeed I made no +resistance, for I had always heard that a prince or sultan, in such +cases, must never ask whether there is any danger. Had I not my sword +by my side, and could I not soon get the better of the old man if he +took a hostile position? I therefore walked in with confidence, and +the porter shut the gate so softly that I could hardly hear the sound. +He then showed the work on the inside, which was certainly much +superior to that without, and explained it, giving indications of the +greatest kindness towards me. My mind being completely set at rest I +allowed myself to be led further along the shady space by the wall +which circled the garden, and found much to admire. Niches, +artificially adorned with shells, coral, and pieces of ore, poured from +Tritons’ mouths copious streams of water into marble basins. Between +them were aviaries and other pieces of lattice-work, in which there +were squirrels hopping about, guinea-pigs running backwards and +forwards, and, in short, all the pretty little creatures that one could +desire. The birds cried and sung to us as we went along; the +starlings, in particular, prated after us the most absurd stuff, one +always calling out “Paris, Paris,” and the other “Narcissus, +Narcissus,” as plain as any schoolboy. The old man seemed to look at +me more seriously whenever the birds uttered this, but I pretended not +to mind it, and indeed had no time to attend to him, for I could +clearly perceive that we were walking round and that this shady place +was in fact a large circle, which inclosed another of far more +importance. We had again come to the little door, and it seemed to me +as if the old man wished to dismiss me; but my eyes remained fixed on a +golden railing which seemed to inclose the middle of this wonderful +garden, and which in my walk I had found an opportunity of observing +sufficiently, although the old man always contrived to keep me close to +the wall, and, therefore, pretty far from the centre. As he was going +up to the gate I said to him, with a bow: “You have been so exceedingly +civil to me that I can venture to make another request before I leave +you. May I not look closer at that golden railing, which seems to +encircle the inner part of the garden?” “Certainly,” said he, “but +then you must submit to certain conditions.” “In what do they +consist?” I asked, quickly. “You must leave your hat and sword here, +and must not quit my hand as I accompany you.” “To that I consent +readily enough,” said I, and I laid my hat and sword on the first stone +bench that came in my way. Upon this he at once seized my left hand in +his right, held it fast, and, with some degree of force, led me +straight on. When we came to the railing, my surprise was increased to +overwhelming astonishment; any thing like it I had never seen. On a +high socle of marble countless spears and partisans stood in a row, and +were joined together by their upper ends, which were singularly +ornamented. Peeping through the interstices I saw behind this railing +a piece of water which flowed gently along, with marble on each side of +it, and in the clear depths of which a great number of gold and silver +fish might be discovered, which now slowly, now swiftly, now singly, +now in shoals, were swimming to and fro. I wished much to see the +other side of the canal that I might learn how the interior part of the +garden was fashioned; but, to my great annoyance, on the other side of +the water stood a similar railing, which was so skilfully arranged +that, opposite to every space on the side where I stood was placed a +spear or a partisan on the other, and thus, with the additional +impediment of the other ornaments, it was impossible for one to look +through, whatever position one took. Besides, the old man, who kept a +fast hold of me, hindered me from moving freely. My curiosity--after +all that I had seen--increased more and more, and I plucked up courage +to ask the old man whether it was not possible to cross over. “Why +not?” said he, “only you must conform to new conditions.” When I asked +him what these were, he told me that I must change my dress. I readily +consented; he led me back towards the outer wall and into a neat little +room, against the walls of which hung dresses of several kinds which +seemed to approach the oriental style of costume. I changed my dress +quickly, and he put my powdered locks into a many-coloured net, after +finally dusting out the powder, to my great horror. Standing before a +large mirror I thought I looked prettily enough in my disguise, and +liked myself better than in my stiff Sunday clothes. I made gestures +and leaps, in imitation of the dancers I had seen on the stage erected +at the fair, and while I was doing this I perceived, by chance, the +reflection in the glass of a niche that stood behind me. Against its +white ground hung three green cords, each twined in a manner which was +not very clear to me in the distance. I therefore turned round +somewhat hastily and asked the old man about the niche and these cords +also. Civilly enough he took one down and showed it to me. It was a +cord of green silk of moderate thickness, the ends of which, fastened +together by a piece of green leather, cut through in two places, gave +it the appearance of being an instrument for no very agreeable purpose. +The affair seemed to me somewhat equivocal, and I asked the old man for +an explanation. He answered, very quietly and mildly, that the cord +was intended for those who abused the confidence which was here readily +placed in them. He hung the cord in its place again, and asked me to +follow him at once. This time he did not take hold of me, but I walked +freely by his side. + +My greatest curiosity now was to know where the door could be to pass +through the railing, and where the bridge could be to cross the canal, +for I had been able to discern nothing of the sort hitherto. I +therefore looked at the golden rails very closely, as we hastened close +up to them,--when all of a sudden my sight failed me; for the spears, +pikes, halberds, and partisans, began quite unexpectedly to rattle and +to shake, and this curious movement ended with the points of all being +inclined towards each other, just as if two ancient armies, armed with +pikes, were preparing for the attack. The confusion before my eyes, +the clatter in my ears, was almost insupportable; but the sight became +infinitely astonishing, when the spears, laying themselves quite down, +covered the whole circle of the canal, and formed the noblest bridge +that one can imagine, while the most variegated garden was revealed to +my view. It was divided into beds, which wound about one another, and, +seen at once, formed a labyrinth of an ornament. All of these were +encompassed by a green border, formed of a short woolly-looking plant, +which I had never seen; all were adorned with flowers, every division +being of a different colour, and as these likewise grew short, the +ground plan was easily traced. This beautiful sight, which I enjoyed +in the full sunshine, completely riveted my eyes; but I scarcely knew +where I could set my foot, for the winding paths were neatly covered +with a blue sand, which seemed to form upon earth a darker sky, or a +sky in the water. Therefore, with my eyes fixed upon the ground, I +went on for some time by the side of my conductor, until I at length +perceived, that in the midst of the circle of beds and flowers, stood +another large circle of cypresses, or trees of the poplar kind, through +which it was impossible to see, as the lowest boughs seemed to be +shooting up from the earth. My conductor, without forcing me straight +into the nearest way, nevertheless led me immediately towards that +centre; and how was I surprised, when entering the circle of the tall +trees, I saw before me the portico of a magnificent summer-house, which +seemed to have similar openings and entrances on every side! A +heavenly music, which issued from the building, charmed me even more +than this perfect specimen of architecture. Now I thought I heard a +lute, now a harp, now a guitar, and now a tinkling sound, which was not +like that of any of the three instruments. The door which we +approached opened at a light touch from the old man, and my amazement +was great, when the female porter, who came out, appeared exactly like +the little maiden who had danced upon my fingers in my dream. She +greeted me as if we were old acquaintances, and asked me to walk in. +The old man remained behind, and I went with her along a short passage, +which was arched over and beautifully ornamented, till I came to the +central hall; the majestic and cathedral-seeming height of which +arrested my sight and surprised me, immediately on my entrance. +However, my eye could not long remain fixed upwards, as it was soon +lured down by a most charming spectacle. On the carpet, immediately +beneath the centre of the cupola, sat three ladies, each one forming +the corner of a triangle, and each dressed in a different colour. One +was in red, another in yellow, the third in green. Their seats were +gilded, and the carpet was a perfect bed of flowers. In their arms lay +the three instruments, the sounds of which I had distinguished from +without, for they had left off playing, being disturbed by my entrance. +“Welcome!” said the middle one, who sat with her face towards the door, +was dressed in red, and had the harp. “Sit down by Alerte, and listen, +if you are fond of music.” I now saw, for the first time, that a +tolerably long bench, placed across, with a mandoline upon it, lay +before me. The pretty little girl took up the mandoline, seated +herself, and drew me to her side. Now I looked at the second lady, who +was on my right. She wore the yellow dress, and had a guitar in her +hand; and if the harp-player was imposing in her form, grand in her +features, and majestic in her deportment, the guitar-player was +distinguished by every grace and cheerfulness. She was a slender +_blonde_, while the other was adorned with hair of a dark brown. The +variety and accordance of their music did not prevent me from observing +the third beauty in the green dress, the tones of whose lute were to me +somewhat touching, and at the same time remarkably striking. She it +was who seemed to take the greatest notice of me, and to direct her +playing towards me. At the same time, I could not tell what to make of +her, for she was now tender, now odd, now frank, now capricious, as she +altered her gestures and the style of her playing. Sometimes she +seemed anxious to move me, and sometimes anxious to tease me. No +matter, however, what she did, she gained no advantage over me, for I +was quite taken up by my little neighbour, to whom I sat close; and +when I perceived plainly enough that the three ladies were the +sylphides of my dream, and recognised the colours of the apples, I well +understood that I had no reason to secure them. The pretty little +creature I would much sooner have seized, had not the box on the ear +which she gave me in my dream remained still fresh in my memory. +Hitherto she had kept quiet with her mandoline; but when her mistresses +had ceased, they ordered her to treat us with a few lively airs. +Scarcely had she struck off some dancing melodies in a very exciting +style, than she jumped up, and I did the same. She played and danced; +I was forced to follow her steps, and we went through a kind of little +ballet, at which the ladies seemed to be well pleased, for no sooner +had we finished it, than they ordered the little girl to refresh me +with something nice before supper. In truth, I had forgotten that +there was any thing else in the world beyond this Paradise. Alerte led +me back into the passage by which I had entered. On one side, she had +two well-furnished apartments, in one of which--the one in which she +lived--she served before me oranges, figs, peaches, and grapes, and I +tasted the fruits both of foreign lands and of early months, with great +appetite. Confectionary was in abundance, and she filled a goblet of +polished crystal with sparkling wine; but I had no need of drinking, as +I sufficiently refreshed myself with the fruits. “Now we will play,” +said she, and took me into the other room. This had the appearance of +a Christmas fair, except that such fine, precious things are never to +be seen in a booth. There were all sorts of dolls, and dolls’ clothes, +and utensils; little kitchens, parlours, and shops; besides single toys +in abundance. She led me all round to the glass cases, in which these +precious articles were preserved. The first case she soon closed +again, saying: “There is nothing for you, I am sure, there,” added she, +“we can find building materials, walls, and towers, houses, palaces, +and churches to put together a large town. That, however, would be no +amusement for me, so we will take something else, that may be equally +amusing for both of us.” She then brought out some boxes, in which I +saw some little soldiers placed in layers one over the other, and with +respect to which I was forced to confess that I had never seen any +thing so pretty in my life. She did not leave me time to look closer +into particulars, but took one of the boxes under her arm, while I +caught up the other. “We will go to the golden bridge,” said she, “for +that’s the best place to play at soldiers. The spears point out the +direction in which the armies should be placed.” We had now reached +the shaking, golden bridge, and I could hear the water ripple, and the +fish splash beneath me, as I knelt down to set up my rows of soldiers, +which, as I now saw, were all on horseback. She gloried in being the +queen of the Amazons, as the leader of her host; while I, on the other +hand, found Achilles, and a very fine set of Greek cavalry. The armies +stood face to face, and nothing prettier can be conceived. They were +not flat leaden horsemen like ours, but man and horse were round and +full-bodied, and very finely worked. It was difficult to see how they +were able to balance themselves, for they kept up without having a +stand. + +We had both surveyed our armies with great complacency, when she +announced the attack. Besides the soldiers, we had found artillery in +our chests--namely, boxes filled with little balls of polished agate. +With these we were to shoot at each other’s forces from a certain +distance, on the express condition, however, that we were not to throw +with greater force than was required to upset the figures, as they were +on no account to be injured. The cannonading began from each side, +and, at first, to the great delight of both of us. But when my +adversary remarked that I took a better aim than she, and that I might +end by winning the game, which depended on having the greatest number +of men upright, she stepped closer, and her girlish manner of throwing +proved successful. A number of my best troops were laid low, and the +more I protested, with the greater zeal did she go on throwing. At +last I became vexed, and told her that I would do the same. +Accordingly, I not only came closer, but in my passion, I threw much +harder, so that, in a short time, a couple of her little female +centaurs were broken to pieces. Her zeal prevented her from noticing +this at once, but I stood petrified with astonishment when the broken +figures joined themselves together again, and the Amazon and her horse +again became entire; nay, became perfectly alive at the same time, for +they galloped from the bridge up to the linden-trees, and after running +backwards and forwards, were lost--how I cannot tell--in the direction +of the wall. My fair adversary had scarcely perceived this, than she +sobbed aloud, and exclaimed that I had caused her an irreparable loss, +which was far greater than words could express. I, who had grown +enraged, was pleased at doing her an injury, and with blind fury, threw +the few agate-balls I still had, among her forces. Unfortunately, I +struck the queen, who had been excepted, as long as our game had +proceeded in the regular way. She flew to pieces, and her nearest +adjutants were shattered at the same time. Soon, however, they joined +themselves together again, took their flight like the first, galloped +merrily under the lindens, and were lost near the wall. + +My adversary reproached and scolded me, but I, having once begun the +work of destruction, stooped down to pick up some of the agate balls, +which were rolling about the golden spears. My savage wish was to +destroy her whole army; while she did not remain inactive, but darting +at me gave me a box on the ear, that set my very head ringing. I, who +had always heard that a hearty kiss is the proper return for a blow +given by a girl, caught her by her ears and kissed her several times. +At this she uttered such a piercing cry that I was absolutely +terrified. I let her go, and it was fortunate that I did so, for at +that moment I did not know what befel me. The ground beneath me began +to shake and rattle, the rails, as I now observed, put themselves in +motion, but I had no time for consideration, nor was I sufficient +master of my feet to fly. Every moment I was afraid of being impaled, +for the lances and partisans which began to stand upright, tore my +clothes. Suffice it to say,--I do not know how it was,--that my sight +and hearing failed me, and that I recovered from my terror and the +stupor into which I had been thrown, at the foot of a linden tree, +against which the railing, while raising itself, had thrown me. My +malice returned with my senses, and increased still more, when from the +other side I heard the jeers and laughter of my adversary, who had +probably come to the ground somewhat more softly than myself. I +therefore got up, and as saw scattered around me, my own little army +with its leaden Achilles, which the rising rails had thrown off +together with myself, I began by catching hold of the hero, and dashing +him against a tree. His resuscitation and flight gave me double +pleasure, for the prettiest sight in the world was associated with all +the delight of gratified malice, and I was on the point of sending the +rest of the Greeks after him, when all of a sudden water came hissing +from every side, from the stones and walls, from the ground and +branches; and wherever I turned it pelted me furiously. My light dress +was soon completely wet through, and as it had been already torn, I +lost no time in flinging it off altogether. My slippers I threw aside, +and then one covering after the other, finding it very pleasant in the +sultry day to take such a shower-bath. Stark naked, I walked gravely +along between the welcome waters, and I thought I might thus go on +pleasantly for some time. My rage had cooled, and I now desired +nothing more than a reconciliation with my little adversary. All of a +sudden the water stopped, and I now stood completely wet on ground that +was soaked through. The presence of the old man, who unexpectedly came +before me, was any thing but welcome. I should have wished, if not to +hide myself, at any rate to put on some covering. Shame, cold, and an +endeavour to cover myself in some measure, made me cut a very miserable +figure, and the old man lost no time in loading me with the bitterest +reproaches. “What hinders me,” he cried, “from taking one of the green +cords, and fitting it to your back at any rate, if not to your neck!” +This threat I took very ill. “Hark ye,” said I, “you had better take +care of such words, or even such thoughts, or you and your mistresses +will be lost!” “Who are you?” said he, in a tone of defiance, “that +dare to talk in this way?” “A favourite of the gods,” I replied, “on +whom it depends whether those ladies will find good husbands and live +happily, or pine and grow old in their magic cloister.” The old man +retreated some steps. “Who revealed that to you?” he asked with doubt +and astonishment. “Three apples,” said I, “three jewels.” “And what +reward do you desire?” he exclaimed. “Above all things,” I replied, +“the little creature who brought me into this cursed condition.” The +old man threw himself at my feet, without heeding the dampness and +muddiness of the ground. He then arose, not in the least wetted, took +me kindly by the hand, led me into the room, where I had been before, +dressed me again quickly, and I soon found myself with my hair curled +and my Sunday clothes on, as at first. The porter did not utter +another word, but before he allowed me to cross the threshold, he +detained me, and showed to me certain objects that were near the wall, +and on the other side of the way, while at the same time he pointed to +the door backwards. I understood him well. He wished me to impress +the objects on my mind, that I might more readily find the door again, +which unexpectedly closed behind me. I observed already what was +opposite to me. The boughs of seven old nut-trees projected over a +high wall, and partly covered the moulding with which it terminated. +The branches reached to a stone tablet, the decorated border of which I +could easily recognise, but the inscription on which I could not read. +It rested on the jutting stone of a niche, in which a fountain +artificially constructed, was throwing water from cup to cup into a +large basin, which formed a kind of little pond, and was lost in the +ground. Fountain, inscription, nut-trees, all stood, one directly over +the other, and I could have painted it as I saw it. + +It may be easily conceived how I passed the evening, and many a day +afterwards, and how often I repeated these adventures, which I could +hardly believe myself. As soon as I could, I went again to the “evil +wall,” that I might at least refresh my memory by the sight of the +objects, and look at the beautiful door. To my great astonishment all +was changed. Nut-trees were, indeed, hanging over the wall, but they +were not close together. A tablet was inserted, but it stood at some +distance to the right of the trees, was without carving, and had a +legible inscription. A niche with a fountain stood far to the left, +and was not to be compared to the one I had before seen. Of the door +not a trace was to be found, and I was, therefore, almost compelled to +believe that my second adventure was a dream, as well as my first. My +only consolation is, that the three objects always seem to change their +situation, for, after repeated visits to the spot, I think I have +observed, that the nut-trees are running towards each other, and that +the tablet and fountain are approaching. Probably, when all has come +together again, the door will once more be visible, and I will do all I +can to fit on a sequel to the adventure. Whether I shall be able to +tell what befalls me in future, or whether it will be expressly +forbidden me, I cannot say. + +J. O. + + + + +ALI AND GULHYNDI. + +BY ADAM OEHLENSCHLAGER. + +There once lived in Bagdad a wealthy merchant named Ibrahim. His only +son, Ali, a young man of eminent talent, though but little resembling +his father, was his pride and delight. The father’s notion of +happiness consisted in the enjoyment of life and in the industry +requisite to procure the key to all earthly enjoyments--wealth; the +son’s mind, on the contrary, was devoted to contemplation and the +pursuit of knowledge. He but rarely quitted his room, and was only +wont to walk in the cool of the evening along the banks of the Tigris +outside the city, to the tomb of Iman Izaser, a Mahommedan saint, which +stood in a circular temple surrounded by date trees, about a league +distant. Here he usually seated himself in the shade, and his delight +consisted in observing those who passed by on their way to the temple +to perform their devotions. He had, above all, observed, as well as +the close veil would permit, the slight and charming form of a female +who went almost daily to the mosque, accompanied by an attendant, who +appeared somewhat older than herself. His eyes followed with delight +the muffled form as she gracefully moved along; he had often witnessed +her kneeling in the temple, and praying fervently, and he imagined that +he in his turn was not unnoticed by the stranger. Thus without having +ever spoken to each other they had formed a kind of acquaintance, +which, however, did not disturb Ali in his contemplations. As soon as +the shadows of evening appeared, he rose and walked silently homewards, +while his eyes gazed on the moonlit waves of the Tigris, or the fresh +verdure of its banks. + +“How is it possible, my son,” once said his father, on his return from +a long journey, after his camels were unladen, “that you, so young in +years, can totally renounce the world? I esteem your application; but +you should not forget that next to our holy Koran, nature herself is +the wisest book, and contains the most sublime doctrines on every page. +What is knowledge without experience? Has not one of our wise men +himself said, that a journey is a fire, around which the raw meat must +be turned in order to become eatable and savoury.” + +“Dear father,” answered Ali, “leave me but a few years longer to +myself, and then on entering the world I shall work with much more +energy. You were right in saying that nature is the wisest book; yet +it is often written in so indistinct a style that it requires strong +eyes to see and read it correctly. What we cannot do for ourselves we +must leave to others to do for us; and thus I travel perhaps as much in +my own room as you do upon your camel through the desert. All cannot +travel. If I in conformity to the duty of a good Mussulman make a +single journey in my life to Mecca, I shall perhaps have travelled +enough.” + +Though Ibrahim was not satisfied altogether by this contradiction of +his favourite opinions, he could not help commending the singular +industry of his son; moreover, it was not displeasing to his paternal +vanity to hear all who knew Ali call him the pattern of a young man. + +The words of the father were not, however, uttered without making some +impression upon the son. He began to perceive the difference between +mere ideas and actual enjoyments, and when he read of any thing grand, +beautiful, or wonderful, he was no longer in such raptures at the mere +reading. He now wished to experience the things themselves. When in +this mood, he often ascended the balcony of the house, where he had a +clear view of the Tigris and the sandy desert, and of the distant +mountains, and where, in serene weather, he could descry the ruins of +ancient Babylon on the banks of the Euphrates. For whole hours he +would stand and dream himself into the most wonderful and adventurous +situations. When, as usual, he went in the evening to Izaser’s temple +under the date trees, it seemed to him monotonous and insignificant. +He fancied he felt contempt for himself in contemplating the rapidly +flowing waves of the Tigris, which had made such enormous journeys from +the highland of Asia through caverns and rocks never yet seen. When +thus sitting in the dusk of evening, it appeared as if the foaming +waves which rushed over the pebbles, told him tales of events of which +it had been an eye-witness on distant shores. + +Now he resolved again to wander to the ruins of Babylon, where he had +once been in his childhood. His father, who was delighted with his +plan, hoped that he discerned in it the beginning of a new career of +life, and readily gave Ali permission to spend several days on the +pilgrimage. + +“My son,” said he, “here in miniature you will find a picture of the +Great, for short as the way is, it is not without variety. In the +immediate neighbourhood it is as much cultivated as the broad valley, +further on it is barren and waste, indeed it is like a desert till the +green carpet of the mountains again meets the sandy plains, and invites +you to the most beautiful woody regions. I should consider it +superfluous to give you any admonitions for the way, did I not know +that young people like yourself, often load their imaginations with old +and remote things, without thinking of what takes place immediately +around them. Take care, then, that you do not pass the desert between +Babylon and Bagdad at night time; and rather arrange your journey so as +to start in the morning or evening. There is a general report that +Zelulu, an evil spirit, has selected that desert for his abode; and +that he hovers over the desert at night, and delights in destroying +those men who disturb his nocturnal flights by their presence.” + +The son promised to do so, and strapping his knapsack on his back, +commenced his journey early the next morning with staff in hand. + +He crossed the long bridge of boats, fastened by iron chains across the +rapid Tigris, which takes its name Thir (an arrow), from its rapidity. +All hastened through the almost dilapidated suburb and came to a +beautiful mosque, near which the caravan, with which his father had +lately arrived, was still halting. They were taking rest in order to +continue their journey. How strange it appeared to him to wander +through this moveable commercial city, where houses were camels, and +elephants were palaces! Ali passed one of these elephants, on the back +of which was constructed a house of tolerable size. It was noon, and +the children who were playing about on the grass were called to their +dinner. Their father, who stood among them, took one after the other +and handed them over to the elephant, who, raising them with his trunk, +lifted them slowly and carefully through the air, and then bent his +trunk over his head, and gave the child to its mother, who stood above +in the door and received them from him without the least sign of fear, +and without any of the children crying from terror. The open mosque +was crowded with people, some of whom were offering thanks to Allah for +their happy return, while others were imploring a blessing on the +progress of their journey. Ali was so pleased with this singular and +motley assembly, that he loitered the whole day among them. Towards +the evening some merchants invited him into their tents, where Indian +youths and girls danced to the sound of the triangle and flute. These +hospitable Arabs were delighted at being able to offer him a good +supper and a comfortable resting-place for the night. + +Early in the cool of the next morning he started on his way, and +wandered over a barren uninhabited plain. He found pleasure in working +his way through the sand to reach some fertile spots which lie, like +islands, in the yellow dust, with their verdant ground and their +isolated palm trees, which pleasantly spread their leaves like +parasols, while there is something divine in their refreshing coolness. + +Ali felt himself inspired: the Arab in his desert feels like the +mountaineer on his rocky mountains, and like the islander at the sight +of the ocean. When he sees it for the first time, he finds himself +like a bird in its own element, and confidently abandons himself to the +impulse of his feelings. The over-excited youth exhausted all his +strength. Noon approached, and the heat was oppressive. Ali hastened +with quick pace towards the distant mountains, and, like his ancestress +Hagar, in former days, wished for a fountain to quench his thirst. + +Having once heard of a fountain near the spot where he now was, his +delight was great on approaching a large tract where many palms of an +indifferent growth arched themselves over a spring. The rippling water +excited and increased his thirst as he stood near it. + +Think of his sorrow when he saw, rising from the water, clouds of smoke +which smelt of sulphur! In despair at this disappointment he threw +himself on the ground under the palm trees, and, being exhausted from +heat, and wearied with his exertions, fell asleep immediately. + +He had not been sleeping long, when he was suddenly aroused by a +powerful voice. On opening his eyes he perceived a man in a loose +linen gown, sitting on a camel which was laden with pitchers and +leather water-pipes. + +“Unhappy man!” he cried, “are you weary of your life that you lie here +so wantonly to end it?” + +Ali jumped up, and the man on his camel started, as he had not expected +thus to arouse the sleeper, although, urged by compassion, he had +called to him. + +“What do you mean?” asked Ali, “what harm can I suffer in sleeping, +during the heat of noon, under these palm trees?” + +“Do you not know this spring?” asked the stranger. + +“No!” said Ali; and he began to tell whence he came and whither he +intended to go. + +The man replied, “It seems as if the evil spirit is busy here, not +merely at midnight, but also in the clear noon day. Follow me to the +palm tree farthest from the spring there, and I will refresh you with a +cooling draught. I live in the next village, where the water is still +so bad that we are obliged to fetch our daily supply from the Tigris. +All the pitchers and pipes which you see, are filled from the river of +your native city. I cannot but laugh to think that you come to us from +the Tigris to drink; indeed that you choose the most noxious spring, of +one of which it may be said that it is supplied by hell itself.” + +These words would have excited Ali’s curiosity immediately, had not his +thirst proved the stronger. He went with the man, who reached him a +pitcher, and said: “There, quench your thirst, and then mount my camel +with me. We shall soon be in my village, where you can take rest, and +towards the evening you may proceed quietly to Babylon.” + +Ali thanked him, and mounted the camel, and they rode in silence across +the plain for the rest of the way, until they came to a yet larger +oasis covered with trees and huts. Only a broad sandy road separated +them from the verdant ground which sloped down from the mountains +towards the desert in all its freshness. The water-carrier made Ali +enter his hut, where they mutually invited each other as guests, the +former asking the latter to partake of his cooling sherbet, the latter +inviting the former to partake of the good things which he had in his +knapsack. + +They had scarcely satisfied their hunger and thirst, than the +water-carrier, at Ali’s request, began to say “I am astonished that you +have never heard of Ali Haymmamy’s spring. Know then that this spring, +as I before said, was formerly a pure one, indeed it was a mineral +spring whither innumerable paralytics resorted. It takes its name from +Ali, son-in-law of our holy prophet, who is said to have knelt once on +this spot to perform his devotions. Wishing as a sincere Mussulman to +wash his face and hands before prayer, and finding no water near, it is +reported that he rubbed his hands, in full confidence in the Almighty, +in the hot sands, and that this immediately ran from his fingers like +limpid water--from this it is said the spring takes its origin. But +the evil spirits, that mar every thing as far as they are able, have, +by Allah’s long suffering and hidden intention, since taken possession +of this spring, particularly the abominable Zelulu, who fixes his +nocturnal abode in the desert. It is believed that he dwells in the +spring; and that he has not only corrupted the water, so that it has +entirely lost its healing virtue, but that it has, moreover, become +poisonous and mortal. The sulphureous vapours arising from it infect +the air with pestilence. You will now readily understand my +astonishment at finding you asleep there, and you may thank your sound +constitution and my assistance for your deliverance.” + +Great was Ali’s astonishment on hearing this. He pressed the carrier’s +hand with gratitude, and some pieces of gold accompanied the pressure. +The poor man was so delighted at this, that Ali quite forgot the danger +he had escaped in the joy of his companion. The latter accompanied him +some distance on his way, and now Ali soon came to pleasant groves of +cypress, maple, and cedar, through which he went down to the ruins of +Babylon which lay on the mighty river. + +There he now stood surrounded by widely scattered ruins overgrown with +grass and moss. Some pillars and fragments of walls rose near the +banks and were reflected in the waves of the slowly flowing Euphrates. +A herdsman sat on an architrave playing his reed-pipe, while his goats +wandered about browsing on the grass between the stones. + +“Do you know this place?” asked Ali. + +“I have a hut in the neighbourhood,” said the shepherd. + +“And what mean these heaps of stones?” + +“It is said that in ancient time a city stood upon this spot.” + +“Cannot you tell me something about it?” + +“No; it has been desolate from time immemorial; neither my father nor +my grandfather ever saw it different.” + +Ali stood lost in thought. He was moved by seeing the young shepherd +sitting on the stone like the unconcerned Present on the grave of the +Past,--on the shore of the stream of time which rushes by like the +paradisaical Euphrates, the river that saw the fall of Adam as well as +that of Babylon, and still rolls onwards its fresh and youthful waves. +Every uncommon mark in the mouldering stones delighted him, and his +thoughts were as much engaged with surrounding objects as the young +shepherd seemed indifferent to them. Like Ali he plucked the grass +from the ruins, though not like him in order to read the inscriptions, +but to give to his goats what they were unable to reach for themselves. + +Towards the evening Ali set out on his way back to Bagdad, and wandered +thoughtfully over the plain. The evening was cool and bright, and +after he had proceeded a few hundred paces, his eyes already discerned +Bagdad. He did not think it necessary to hasten, feeling sure that he +must soon reach the city, but loitered long on the charming verdant +spots in the sandy plain. The moon arose and shone so brightly, that +the night appeared almost as light as day. Hence Ali did not take any +account of the time; he felt weary, and seeing a large stone at some +distance from him in which seats were cut out, he could not resist +sitting down and, with his head resting on his hand, gazing over the +calm, clear, and cool, desert before him. The wind was rustling +through the palms over his head. Conceive his astonishment when the +wind was suddenly hushed, and when he again heard the spring ripple a +few yards off, and smelt the noxious vapours which the breezes had +before wafted to the opposite side. + +Terrified, he jumped up and ran back more than a hundred yards. He saw +that a thunder-storm was suddenly approaching. By the dim moonlight, +which every moment threatened to be obscured by the black clouds, he +could scarcely distinguish the path that would lead him home. However, +he hastened onwards, and cursed the habit which, on the slightest +occasion, always misled him to shut himself up from surrounding +objects, like flowers which close in the evening, so that he did not +think where he was, or what took place near him. It grew darker and +darker, thick clouds obscured the moon, loud thunder rolled over his +head, but not a drop of rain descended. A burning wind rushed through +the desert and stirred up the sand, so that he was obliged every minute +to shut his eyes. + +“Are there really evil spirits living,” he said to himself, “that can +hurt man? No; innocence is the real great seal of Solomon, which not +even the terrible Eblis dares to break.” He had scarcely uttered these +words than a frightful darkness forced him to stand still. Suddenly +the sky and earth were burning with a pale flame, a forked flash of +lightning shot over his head, and struck a hollow tree close by his +side. At the same time a pelting shower of rain streamed from the +clouds, and Ali fell to the ground, stunned by the tremendous +thunder-claps. Thus he lay for some time. At length all became calm, +and he arose; but what was his horror when he saw against the deep blue +moonlit sky, a monstrous black giant standing on the plain! The huge +head reached high in the air, and looked upon Ali with a large +sparkling eye. Ali was about to flee, but fear paralysed his feet. +Trembling, he again turned his face towards the formidable figure which +he fancied would crush him. How surprised and delighted was he on +discovering that the formidable monster was nothing but a large black +cloud, the last remnant of the thunderstorm, with an opening in the +centre, through which the moon was beaming! This discovery restored +his courage as quickly as he had before lost it. He now perceived that +the whole was nothing more than a natural phenomenon, such, doubtless, +as had often occurred in this narrow valley, and had given rise to the +superstition of the people. He now proceeded onwards with fresh +vigour, and it was not long before he crossed the bridge of the Tigris +with a light heart, delighted at having so fortunately completed his +adventure. But the black, Zelulu (for he it really was who amused +himself with deceiving the conceited youth), stared smiling after him +with his glowing eye, and then burst out into such loud laughter, that +the palms of the desert trembled. Then, shaking the mane of his +monstrous head, he folded up the large airy bulk of his body and +floated over the spring, where, forming himself into a pillar, he +suddenly rushed down with a tremendous howl. From this time he +determined to persecute the youth. + +Ali, on his return, found his father’s house in the greatest state of +confusion and distress. His father was not there, and when he asked +after him, an old slave said to him, “Unhappy son, at this moment the +executioner is perhaps inflicting the fatal wound on him.” Ali stood +speechless and pale. The cause of the unhappy event was as follows: + +Ibrahim bore an implacable hatred against Hussain, Cadi of Bagdad, and +the latter entertained a similar feeling in return; nay, people in the +city were wont to name Ibrahim and Hussain if they wished to cite an +instance of two irreconcileable enemies. Both had been educated, after +the death of their parents, in the house of a mutual relative. Nothing +can be worse than men of an entirely opposite disposition being +compelled to hold daily intercourse; repugnance and hatred increase +more and more, and their conversation becomes a constant feud. Hussain +was proud and gloomy; Ibrahim vehement and animated. Daily did they +reproach each other; the former considering the latter a frivolous +sensualist, the latter considering the former a cold, selfish egotist. +As they advanced in years their hatred increased. Their guardian had a +beautiful daughter, whom both, as members of the family, had +opportunities of seeing. Ibrahim fell in love with her, and hoped that +his affections would be returned, and the father’s consent obtained. +But as Hussain, by his natural talent, industry, and perseverance, soon +raised himself to an important station, he obtained, contrary to +Ibrahim’s expectation, the consent of the beautiful Mirza and her +parent. Ibrahim was so enraged at this, that out of revenge he shortly +after took two wives. One presented him with Ali at the cost of her +own life. Mirza lived with Hussain for some years before she bore him +a daughter. Some time had now past, Mirza had died, and separation, +which usually weakens enmity as well as friendship, had almost +extinguished the hatred of the cheerful Ibrahim. An occurrence, +however, showed that it still burned fiercely in the heart of the +haughty Hussain; and this poured fresh oil into Ibrahim’s fire, which, +as it appeared, death alone could now extinguish. + +Two years ago, Ibrahim had returned from a journey, and among other +precious articles, had brought with him some Indian gold cloth, such as +had never been seen before. Hussain heard of this, and as his daughter +had grown up to be one of the most beautiful maidens in Bagdad, his +paternal pride was set upon adorning his lovely child by all the means +of art and of wealth. He had seen the cloth in passing Ibrahim’s shop, +but not wishing to purchase it himself, had sent a slave to Ibrahim, +and commissioned him to settle the bargain. Ibrahim looked upon this +as the first step towards a reconciliation on the part of Hussain; and +being of a more forgiving disposition than he, and, moreover, being in +a cheerful humour, in anticipation of a happy future, he gave the cloth +to the slave, telling him to say to Hussain, that he wished him to +accept of it as a token of former friendship. A short time after this, +the slave returned with the cloth, and said that his master had looked +upon it as a great insult, that a merchant presumed to offer presents +to the cadi, as these must always look, more or less, like bribes; and +that Ibrahim ought to name a price for it, as the cadi was quite able +to pay for it, although he did not every year bring home riches on his +mules. This haughty answer was so revolting to Ibrahim, that he took +the cloth from the slave’s hands, and tearing it to pieces, exclaimed: +“Tell your master, that thus I tear the last bonds of our former +friendship,--that I tear up by the roots the flowers which childhood +had woven into the golden ground of our life.” + +Late in the evening of the day on which this had happened, and after +Ibrahim had for some time shut up his shop, he heard a knock at the +door. He went and opened it, but did not see any body. He had +scarcely gone away, when the knocking was repeated. He opened again, +and again saw no one. Vexed at this, he was returning to his room, +when suddenly a louder knocking than before was heard. He now ran +quickly to the door, and burst it open, in hopes of meeting the +insolent person who was thus tantalising him. As soon as he had opened +it, there stood outside a pretty, middle-aged woman in black, holding a +staff in her hand. “What do you want?” cried Ibrahim. + +“I have a request to make, friend,” said she. “My beautiful daughter +is soon to be married; I am poor, and cannot afford a handsome bridal +dress, such as she deserves. Give me the gold cloth which you have +torn to-day; it will be good enough for us, and has lost its greatest +value for you. If old friends forsake us, we must look for new ones.” + +Ibrahim, who was liberal, gave her the cloth, which she contemplated +attentively, and then said: “It has suffered great injury; it will cost +pains to stick it together again; still it can be remedied.” Upon this +she saluted Ibrahim kindly, and went away, and he never again saw her. + +Ibrahim now gave daily vent to his anger in vehement words against +Hussain; and whatever he said was reported to the latter, with +additions, so that the enraged cadi only watched for an opportunity to +take revenge. This occurred sooner than he expected. The kind, mild +government of Haroun al Raschid, however beneficent in some respects, +produced in a certain degree disagreeable consequences for himself. +The populace had scarcely perceived that they were not forced to +tremble slavishly before the noble caliph, than they began to censure +his conduct and calumniate him, with the greatest audacity. For some +time he allowed this to pass unnoticed. But the insolence increased; +and he now all at once issued orders, that any one presuming to revile +the actions of the caliph should be executed without mercy. This order +had been made public a few days after Ibrahim’s return, indeed on the +very morning when his son had gone to Babylon. Being much engaged, he +remained at home during that morning, and it was not till nearly +evening that he went to a khan, where he was in the habit of spending a +few hours every day. He had not spoken to any person, and knew nothing +of the proclamation. He had scarcely entered the khan, when a crier +came through the street, exclaiming that every one should step aside to +make way, as Zobeide, the favourite wife of the caliph was about to +pass with her slaves. Ibrahim, who was in a merry mood, and did not +often weigh his words nicely, said: “They call Haroun al Raschid the +wisest man. It may be that he possesses singular qualities; but as +regards women, he is the weakest creature that I never knew. My son, +who is twenty years old, is ten times wiser on that score than he is.” + +Ibrahim had no sooner said these words, than he was seized by the +officers of the cadi, and brought before Hussain. His grief can easily +be conceived, when he heard the sentence of death. He entreated +Hussain, in the name of their youthful friendship, to save his life. + +“You yourself have violated our friendship,” replied the latter, +coldly; “there are here witnesses of your words, and I cannot save you. +All I can do is, to bring you to the Commander of the Faithful, who +wishes to see the first violator of his proclamation, and to witness +his execution.” + +So far the old slave related. Ali was paralysed with horror; a +messenger from the caliph first recalled him to consciousness. “Do you +bring me his gray head?” asked Ali; “has the axe already dyed his thin +silvery hair with blood?” + +“I will bring you to your father,” replied the messenger. “The caliph +has granted him permission to take leave of his son before he dies.” + +“Is he still living?” cried Ali, and he hastened to the palace. On +entering it, he saw the caliph sitting on his throne; while before him +his father, with his hands tied behind him, was kneeling on a carpet. +A silver basin stood near, and the executioner had already drawn his +bright, sharp sword. Ali embraced his father. + +“I cannot clasp you in my arms, my son,” said the old man, “but I die +for your sake; parental fondness made my lips utter those words.” + +“Untie his hands!” cried the caliph; “let him embrace his son before he +dies.” + +Ali threw himself at the caliph’s feet, and said, imploringly: “Restore +me my father.” + +“I pity your fate,” said Haroun al Raschid, with emotion, “but I have +sworn that the blood of him who should revile my majesty and +benevolence shall flow.” + +“Oh! then there is hope of delivery,” cried Ali. “Am I not blood of my +father’s blood? Let, then, my blood flow for his, that I may fall a +sacrifice to your revenge, and that my death may release you from your +oath.” + +“What is it that you dare to offer me, young man?” said the caliph, +sternly. “Do not think to soften my heart by a trick so common! What +I have determined is unalterable, and in the name of Almighty God I +tell you your tears cannot move me.” + +Ali knelt down. “Strike!” he cried to the slave, as he stretched out +his neck. + +“What are you doing, my son?” cried the old man. + +“I imitate my father,” said Ali. “From love to me you have exposed +yourself to death, from love to you I will suffer it for you.” + +“And your mistress--how will she wring her white hands!” said the +caliph. + +“Commander of the Faithful, I have none,” said Ali. + +“How? Have you no passion? has not all-powerful love struck root in +your heart?” + +“I love God,” said Ali, “my father, and you, my liege, even in death; +for I know that you are otherwise good and just; I love nature, men, +and every thing beautiful that flourishes and lives; but no woman has +yet awakened a passion!” + +“Then Ibrahim was right,” cried Haroun al Raschid, laughing; “then you +are really wiser than the caliph. Rise, my friends,” he continued, +“neither of you shall die. Ibrahim has not violated my law; he knew it +not. He has not praised his son at the expense of the caliph; my oath +does not require his blood. Forgive me the terrors of death which I +have caused you. A prince has seldom an opportunity of looking into +the secrets of the heart with his own eyes. Only on the boundary which +separates death from life, all considerations disappear, and only thus +could I discover in you a virtue which I now admire. Go home, honest +Ibrahim, you are healthy and cheerful, by nature, so that this shock +will not be attended with any dangerous consequences. And you, wise +Ali,” he continued, smiling, “I will see you again a year hence, and +learn whether you are then as wise as you are now.” As soon as he had +concluded, he dismissed them, and sent them home laden with splendid +presents. + +Hussain was an eye-witness of the scene. It may easily be conceived +how this sudden act of grace inflamed his hatred, and with what triumph +the father and son returned home again. + +Ibrahim lived happily with his son, who applied himself anew, with +great industry, to the acquisition of knowledge. Once a slave came to +Ali’s room and begged him to come down, as his father had purchased +something for him in the market. He went down accordingly, and was +much surprised at seeing a little, deformed creature, dressed as a +slave, standing before him. The little man wore a high hat, with a +cock’s feather, on his head; his chest, as well as his back, formed a +hump; his squinting eyes were of a pale gray, like those of a cat; and +his nose hung over his mouth like a bunch of grapes, and was of a +violet colour. For the rest, he was cheerful, brisk, and healthy, +notwithstanding all his excrescences; and with his right eye, which was +triangular, he looked attentively at Ali, whilst the left was concealed +in the angle between the nose and forehead. + +Whilst Ali stood wondering at this paragon of human ugliness, his +father could not suppress his laughter, and said: “Have I not been to +the market at a lucky moment? An hour afterwards it would have been +too late, so numerous were those who wished to purchase him. I owe it +to my prompt decision that I got him for two hundred pieces of gold. +Only think, my wise son, you lock yourself up within four walls, to +suck, like a bee, sweetness from old manuscripts; and yet this +hunchback slave, who never has had time to sit at home and pore over +books, is declared by the opinion of all connoisseurs, to be unequalled +in learning throughout Arabia and Persia. You may easily see it in +him; wisdom breaks forth in every part of him, and, therefore, great +must be the superfluity within! Take him with you; I present him to +you to assist you in your studies, and divert you in your hours of +leisure.” + +When Ali had returned to his room attended by his deformed slave, and +the latter saw the great quantity of books and parchments which laid +about in every direction, he raised his hands in amazement, and cried +with warmth, “The wise Confucius might well say, ‘Blessed is he who +recognises the end of his destiny! The way that he must go to reach +his goal stands marked before his eyes. Uncertainty and doubt leave +him as soon as he enters on that way. Peace and tranquillity strew +roses on his path.’ But he also truly said, ‘Unhappy is he who +mistakes the branches of the tree for its roots, the leaves for fruit, +the shadow for the substance, and who knoweth not how to distinguish +the means from the end.” + +“What do you mean by that?” asked Ali. + +“Sadi has said,” replied the little slave, “that the most unprofitable +of human beings, is a learned man who does not benefit his +fellow-creatures by his learning; we hear the mill clapping but see no +flour; a word without a deed is a cloud without rain, and a bow without +a string.” + +Ali now wished to try whether the knowledge of the slave went beyond +these and similar maxims. He examined him and was astonished at his +proficiency in the Arabian, Persian, Hindoo, and Chinese philosophy. + +“What is your name?” continued Ali. + +“When I was born,” replied the hunchback, “my mother was of opinion +that I was so easily distinguishable as to require no name, thinking +that people would soon enough separate the ram from the goats without +tying a red ribbon round his neck.” + +“Are you a Mohammedan?” asked Ali, again. + +“Mahomet could neither read nor write; I worship Mithra; to him I bow +the knee, not to the rising in the east but to the setting in the west.” + +“Then you worship the sun?” + +“The sun itself is cold, and produces warmth only when combined with +the atmosphere of our earth. The fire has beautiful yellow locks and +sparkling eyes, it vivifies every thing with its love, and burns most +beautifully at night.” + +“Still I must call you by a name,” said Ali. + +“I am as diminutive, deformed, and ugly, as the renowned _Lockman_,” +said the slave, “and he was as shrewd and knew as much as I do. It was +the same with Æsop. Many are of opinion that they are one and the same +person; if this may be said of two it may also be applied to three. +Call me _Lockman_, and believe in the _metempsychosis_. It is the +cheapest belief, as it costs the creator least.” + +Ali knew not whether to smile or be angry at this frivolous joke. +Indeed, he did not know whether he was joking; for every thing that +_Lockman_ (as we shall call the slave,) said, was mixed with a certain +serious grimace which again frequently changed into sarcastic ridicule. + +On the same evening Ali read aloud the following passage from +Zoroaster’s “Wisdom:” + + “The power hath work’d from all eternity: + Two angels are its subjects--Virtue, Vice, + Of light and darkness mingled;--aye at war. + When Virtue conquers, doubled is the light; + When Vice prevails the black abyss is glad. + To the last day the struggle shall endure. + Then Virtue shall have joy, and Vice have pain, + And never more these enemies shall meet.” + + +When Ali had read thus far, Lockman, who was still in the room, had so +violent a bleeding at the nose that he was obliged to leave it, and Ali +saw him no more that evening. + +Early in the morning he was awakened by a singing which ascended from +the garden. He opened the window and heard a hoarse, though well +practised voice, sing the following words: + + “Lovely spring returns again, + And his merry glance is warm, + And he sings a lively strain, + But the youth he cannot charm. + + “Rosebuds all their fragrance shed, + But his heart they cannot move, + Seeking joys for ever fled, + Through the ruins he must rove. + + “Does he dwell amid the flowers, + By some kindly beauty blest? + No; amid the ruin’d towers, + Where the screech owl builds her nest. + + “No fair arms around him cling, + Ne’er he tastes a honied kiss; + Songs that ancient dreamers sing, + Those alone afford him bliss. + + “Wake him from this sullen sleep, + Lovely spring thy pow’r display, + Or the youth too late will weep, + For the joys he flings away.”[1] + + +Ali went into the garden, and found Lockman sitting under a tree with a +guitar in his hand. + +“Do you sing too?” asked Ali. + +“If the screeching of an owl can be called singing,” replied he, “I +sing like the feathered songster of the grove.” + +“Your guitar has a pleasant sound.” + +“That it learned from a sheep when a wolf struck its claws into its +entrails.” + +“What were you singing?” + +“A poor song on a great subject composed by one of those poets who +always entreat us to take the will for the deed. Do you wish to hear +another?” + +He sung again. + + “Sure some madness it must be, + Thus the present hour to slight, + And to take thy sole delight + In the tales of memory. + Why shouldst thou thy time despise? + Why the past thus fondly prize? + Seek’st thou only what is gone? + Nay, what is’t thou wouldst recall? + Dreamy pleasures--that is all; + Fit for puling babes alone. + + “Nay, suppose this honor’d Past + Should return to thee at last, + Friend, thou soon wouldst say: ‘The star + Shines more brightly when afar.’ + When the Future’s sunbeams glow, + Fancy paints a glittering bow; + O’er the cloudy Past ’tis spread, + Venture near, and it has fled. + In the centre thou shouldst be, + If thou wouldst the magic see.” + + +From this time Ali, as usual, went frequently to Izaser’s temple, +attended by Lockman. + +“Why do you always go this way?” he once asked Ali. “Are not the other +suburbs also beautiful?” + +“I do not know them as well as these,” replied Ali. “This +neighbourhood has been familiar to me from childhood; every step +recalls to my memory some moment of my past life, and cannot, +therefore, but be most dear to me.” + +When they were on the point of going out on the following day, Lockman +had put off the handsome dress which Ali had given to him, and appeared +again in his former tattered slave’s coat. + +“What is that?” asked Ali. “Why have you again put on those rags? +Have I not given you a good, decent suit?” + +“Forgive me, master,” said he, “I am not so familiar with my new suit +as with this: this has been familiar to me in my early life, every hole +and every rent recalls to my memory some past moment, and therefore +cannot but be extremely dear to me.” + +Ali understood him, and found that he was not altogether wrong. “Go +back,” said he, “and put on your new suit, and then I will go another +way with you.” + +They went out at the opposite gate which brought them to another +winding of the Tigris. Here they found many gardens surrounded by high +walls, between which were beautiful avenues of trees, and stone benches +for the repose of travellers. Ali sat down on one of these benches, +and, having looked round for some time, sank as usual into a deep +reverie. When he had awakened from it he was going to ask Lockman for +something, but not seeing him, was obliged to call him several times. +Upon which his slave appeared from a thick copse adjoining the wall. + +“Come, Lockman,” cried Ali, “I want you to tell me something.” + +“Such things cannot be told at all,” replied the latter, with a sigh. +“Do you wish to hear trite similes of rosy cheeks, ruby lips, pearly +teeth, lily hands, bosoms like pomegranates covered with snow, eyebrows +like rainbows? Come and see for yourself, for you will behold an +incomparable beauty, who being a female is probably not always the +same.” + +Ali approached the copse, where, through a hole in a wall, he could see +into a beautiful garden, with splendid _jets d’eau_ which fell into +basins of marble. A lovely female form was sitting on the turf, and +many other beautiful girls surrounded her as the paler lights of heaven +surround the evening star. Her youth was in its highest splendour, and +was adorned with those beautiful colours which are otherwise found only +in the most dissimilar objects in nature, and which Lockman had named. +But Ali perceived besides, a grace playing on her lips, and a spirit in +her eyes such as we see neither in the lustre of rubies nor in that of +diamonds. Innocence and infantine serenity animated her countenance; +her movements were natural and easy, like those of a Zephyr; and from +the affability which she showed to her attendants, Ali inferred the +gentleness of her disposition. He stood enraptured in the +contemplation of this beauty, believing that he beheld an angelic +being. A deep red was suddenly suffused over his face, while, +beckoning to his slave, he retired from the wall. He looked in again, +and perceived that her slaves were undressing her. Her long hair +already fell over her bare shoulders, and her white garment floated +loosely round her beautiful bosom. Officious hands loosened the tight +bodice, and from all the preparations it was evident that she was about +to take a refreshing bath in the hour of evening. + +“Master,” cried Lockman, “in the name of Allah and the prophet, pray +wait and continue watching.” + +Ali, incensed, took him by the collar and threw him backwards. + +“Oh, you are not in your senses,” cried the slave, vexed, as he +followed him; “you shut your mouth close that you may not enjoy the +manna in the wilderness which falls from heaven; you will not take a +refreshing draught in the desert when it is offered. You are no +Mussulman. A Mussulman loves sensual pleasure, the prophet has +permitted it to us in this life, and promised it in the next.” + +“The prophet did not enjoin what he permitted,” said Ali. “As the +angel took out of his heart the black drops in which were concealed the +seeds of evil, in the same manner also can the angel purify the heart +of every man.” + +“You are no true Mussulman,” said Lockman, “neither war nor sensual +pleasure delight you.” + +“No,” replied Ali, “they do not; but courage and love do.” + +“Go to the foggy Europe,” cried Lockman; “you are no Asiatic; the +prophet of Nazareth has misled you. Your virtue is not an active one, +it is only abstinence; your life is but a continued preparation for +death.” + +Ali broke off the conversation, and went away vexed, but soon forgot +Lockman. The lovely maiden on the turf was still present to his +imagination in all her beauty. + +In anxious expectation he waited for the next evening, and went +unattended by Lockman. + +On first arriving he sat down, and meditated to whom this garden could +possibly belong. He then walked several times up and down the avenue +between the walls, and not seeing any one near, could not resist +stopping by the hedge and looking through the hole into the garden. +However he saw no one, for the garden was forsaken. On the turf, +opposite the _jet d’eau_, lay a rose which he wished to possess. As he +still stood gazing some one tapped him softly on the shoulder, upon +which he looked around, and saw standing before him a middle-aged and +affable woman, who asked him smiling, + +“What are you looking after, young gentleman?” + +Ali was embarrassed. + +“You need not answer,” said she. “Your little dwarf has been here this +morning, and has settled every thing with me. My mistress is very +anxious to see you.” + +And without waiting for an answer, she took Ali by the hand, and led +him through an open garden door into a thick arbour where she left him. + +The beautiful Gulhyndi came to meet him dressed in a fine black suit of +satin with short sleeves, which enhanced the natural whiteness of her +arms, hands, and neck. Her hair flowed in long tresses down her back; +and a deep bodice set with precious stones encircled her slender waist. + +“You will be surprised, sir,” she said with natural freedom from +embarrassment, “at being brought so suddenly before a young girl whom +you do not know. I will at once free you from the state of uncertainty +in which you might easily remain to my disadvantage. Know then that I +have hazarded this step as the only means of becoming acquainted with a +man of such excellent qualities, whose intellectual conversation I have +long wished to enjoy. It is not for the first time that we see each +other; indeed, we have known each other for a long time.” + +The fair one now took a long veil which concealed her face, leaving a +small opening only for the eyes, walked a few paces up and down, and +then asked him, “Do you know me thus?” + +Ali started; it was his unknown friend of Izaser’s temple. + +“I am certain you now know me. My name is Gulhyndi. I have long known +you, and better than you imagine. A pious dervish with whom I often +conversed in the temple on holy things, frequently spoke of you; and I +will not deny,” she continued, blushing, “that your appearance seems to +confirm me in what I have heard of you. My nurse, who is a Christian, +has exerted a great influence upon my education. We poor Arab women +are condemned to sit like prisoners in a cage without receiving +instruction or any cultivation for our minds. But I can bear it no +longer, and beseech you, noble young Mussulman, who surpass in sense +and judgment so many of your age, not to make me repent a step which +reason sanctions, although as a timid girl I must blush at it.” + +“Lovely stranger,” said Ali, “I swear to you by Allah that I will +strive to merit your confidence, and never to make myself unworthy of +it.” + +“All depends upon our devising a disguise under which I may see you +daily. Do you play an instrument?” + +“I play the guitar,” replied Ali. + +“That is fortunate. My father has promised that I shall learn this +instrument, and has given me permission to receive daily instruction +from a Frank slave in the presence of my nurse. You must be this +slave: will you not?” + +“Lovely Gulhyndi,” said Ali, “I am your slave already.” + +Gulhyndi blushed. + +“You already act in character, you say sweet things to me, a fault with +all Franks; in this respect we Orientals have the advantage over them, +we tell the true feeling of our hearts plainly.” + +“So do I; I have not disguised my nature.” + +“This is a repetition,” cried she, laughing; “I see you are more +cunning than I thought; perhaps I have done wrong in reposing such +confidence in you.” + +It was now agreed that Ali should procure a Frank dress, such as +liberated slaves wore, and should come the next day with his guitar. +Maria, the nurse, accompanied him to the door, entreating him to pardon +Lockman, who, from zeal for his master, and without his orders, had +that morning arranged the whole plan. The enraptured Ali promised it, +and inquired of her who her mistress was. + +“As you value your own happiness and hers,” answered Maria, “ask me no +questions. Be it sufficient for you to know that her name is Gulhyndi. +She knows no more of you than that your name is Ali. The moment you +know more than this of each other, all your joy will be turned to +sadness.” + +Ali was forced to promise that he would not inquire further. He +hastened to buy a beautiful guitar, and impatiently awaited the hour +which should again reveal to him his earthly Paradise. It arrived. He +entered the garden, and was led to the arbour as he had been the day +before, though Maria did not go away, but remained at the entrance. +Gulhyndi met him much more splendidly attired than on the previous day. +According to the fashion of Persia, she appeared in a light gay velvet +garment, which hung loosely around her body, and was not confined by a +bodice. Her beautiful face was encircled with strings of genuine +pearls and precious stones; on her fingers she wore diamonds set in +silver, the Orientals not being permitted to wear gold rings. She had +green stockings, which showed the symmetry of her ancles, and on her +small feet were shoes embroidered with gold. Smiling, she said: “Do +not think, dear Ali, that I have chosen this dress from vanity. My +father, who loves pomp, has been with me, and I have not had time to +change it as I expected. I will leave you for a moment, and will be +with you immediately, for this attire is not sociable. I can scarcely +turn my head with the weight of these jewels, nor move my fingers with +these rings.” + +Having said these words, she went away, attended by Maria. Ali +followed her with his eyes; and though he wished he might see her in a +plain attire, which would rather display than conceal her graceful +form, yet he could not refrain, as she went away, from exclaiming, with +the poet; “How lovely is thy gait in shoes, thou daughter of princes! +Thy cheeks are lovely with gems, and thy neck with chains. Thine eyes +are as the eyes of doves, between thy tresses. Thy slender form is as +that of the palm-tree, and thy bosom is like doves. Oh! my dove in the +rock, show thy form again, and let me hear thy voice, for thy voice is +sweet, and thy form is lovely!” + +It was not long before she returned in her black dress. How much more +beautiful did she look! On her partly veiled, swelling bosom, which +dazzled the eyes of Ali by its whiteness, hung a ruby, which was +blood-red with anger, at being surpassed by the redness of her lips. A +lily of silver was entwined in her hair. She took the guitar, saying: +“We must lose no time; you shall not bring it in vain; therefore, now +teach me.” + +Ali obeyed, and taught her the touch of the strings. How did he +tremble, when he had to touch her white hands and delicate fingers! +She was as delighted as a child when she could play the first chord. +“How much sometimes there is in the combination of the elementary +sounds,” she cried. + +“Lovely Gulhyndi,” said Ali, “the holy seven tones have the same +heavenly relation, by nature, as the holy seven colours that beam to us +from the rainbow. All we see and hear is nothing but a repetition, and +the variation of these.” + +“Why, then, has the prophet forbidden music in the churches?” asked +Gulhyndi. + +“The human voice,” replied he, “is the noblest instrument, and the most +worthy of Omnipotence; the prophet considered it a duty that man should +offer the best to God. We, fair Gulhyndi, will not despise the music +of these chords in this earthly life, since it supports and elevates +our human voice, and connects man with nature.” + +The sun was now setting, and cast its last gleam over the wall into the +arbour. “Play and sing another song, as a farewell,” said she. Ali +sang as follows: + + “My tuneful strings your music swell, + And sweetly tell + The feelings words can never tell aright. + Resound! In you my joys should be expressed. + Soften that breast, + And breathe to spring my transports of delight. + + “Sing, as the nightingale from some dark tree + Pours melody; + And bear along my feelings on your wings; + And let my thoughts like some fair streamlet flow, + In evening’s glow, + When to far lands its gentle sound it brings. + + “The thoughts for which all language is too weak, + The lyre can speak; + Although love’s fetters have the tongue confined. + When love has come, repose gives place to pain, + And words are vain. + Notes have no words--yet is their sense divined.” + + +After this Ali had frequent opportunities of seeing Gulhyndi. Once +finding her pale, and with her eyes red from weeping, he asked her with +sympathy: “Lovely Gulhyndi, what ails you?” + +“I will and must tell you, Ali,” said she; “when you have heard me you +will be convinced of the necessity I felt to seek your advice and +confidence. I have told you already that my nurse is a Christian. She +has endeavoured to convert me to the Christian faith; but the lessons +which my mother gave me in my childhood have always closed my heart +against her persuasions and proofs. Still she has often rendered me +most uneasy; and though unsuccessful in these endeavours to convert me +to her religion, has shaken my faith in ours. ‘The prophet,’ she says, +‘excludes the female half of mankind from heaven; therefore, what are +you striving for? In this life you need no supernatural assistance, +and in the next it is denied you. But to go no farther than this life; +what have you become through the cruel institution of Mahomet? Before +your marriage you are a bird shut up in a cage, and when married, an +unhappy wife, who shares the favours of a tyrant with a hundred others. +Follow my advice, take your jewels and flee to Europe. My family is +large and happy, my native country is extensive and beautiful; its +women are much respected. Many youths will strive to please you; every +one will esteem himself happy to obtain your hand. The Christian +church will receive you in her bosom, and in the next life infinite +mercy awaits you.” + +Gulhyndi was silent for a moment, to hear whether Ali would say any +thing in reply. As he continued silent, contemplating her attentively +with an affectionate look, she continued: + +“I should not perhaps have been strong enough to withstand her +persuasions had not a singular occurrence taken place to confirm me. +During a sleepless night, when tormented with grief and anguish of +conscience, I lay on my couch with my hands folded, and all at once +fell into a sweet sleep, during which I dreamt I saw the ceiling of the +room opening, and a charming fairy coming down to me on a rosy cloud, +which filled the room with perfume. She appeared in an azure silk +garment, over which hung a transparent crape, on which were wrought +silver stars; on her head was a crown of diamonds, and her hands held a +sceptre of emerald. She bent over my pillow, touched my temples with +her sceptre, and said, ‘Be of good cheer daughter, flee not, and deny +not your faith. Virtue is a flower that blooms in every clime. Be +firm without despairing. I promise you a youth who will love you alone +and be faithful to you. He shall, like yourself, spring from the tribe +of Ishmael, and dwell in your tents.’ When she had said this she +disappeared. I have often seen her after this, when I have been in +trouble; but she has only floated down to me and contemplated me +smiling for a moment, which, however, has always inspired me with +fortitude for many days. For two months, however, I have not seen her, +and Maria urges me daily. Thus I met you in this state of excitement. +Oh, Ali! forsake not the timid roe which seeks shelter in your +protection.” + +How was it possible for Ali to conceal his sentiments any longer? + +“Gulhyndi,” he cried, “the youth which the good fairy promised you, you +have already found, if you will be satisfied with my love and fidelity.” + +“Ali,” said she, trembling, “let not compassion for an unhappy being +make you think you love her.” + +“I have not known before this day what love is,” said he; “but if it be +a feeling that supplants every other, and makes the beloved object its +sole desire on earth, then I love you.” + +She could find no words in answer; her arms embraced the happy Ali, and +in the first kiss he enjoyed the highest happiness. + +“But,” continued she, when she had in a measure recovered from the +first transport, “you still must flee, Ali, you must leave your country +if you love me. Oh, Allah, how could I expect this from thee,” she +exclaimed, with a sigh; “no, no, I shall act against the warning of my +good fairy. She promised me a lover with whom I should not be +compelled to flee, who should dwell with me in my tents. Alas, Ali, +this is impossible with you, and without you the world has no joys for +me.” + +“Be of good cheer, beloved Gulhyndi, my father is a wealthy and +respected man; I do not know yours, but he cannot have any objection to +our union if the wealthy Ibrahim solicits you for his son, and grants +him the dowry.” + +He had scarcely uttered these words, when the terrified Maria came +running to them, and crying: “For Heaven’s sake, children, compose +yourselves as you value your life. Your father is coming,” she said to +Gulhyndi; “play, play,” she said, to Ali. + +He took the guitar and had scarcely played a few notes, when Hussain +Cadi entered the arbour. Ali’s terror may easily be conceived. His +hand almost dropped the guitar so greatly was he embarrassed. + +Hussain looked at him attentively. “Is this the Greek slave, +daughter,” he asked, “whom your nurse procured to instruct you in +music?” + +“Yes, father,” replied Gulhyndi, trembling. + +“You are agitated, you have been weeping, what is the meaning of all +this?” + +“Father, he has sung to me an air which has affected me deeply.” + +“Ah! does he so well understand the art of moving your feelings?” asked +Hussain. “Play, you Christian dog,” said he, turning to Ali, “move me, +also, for once.” + +“Pardon your slave, sir,” said Ali, “feelings cannot be forced; if this +sweet art is to produce its effect, the mind must be favourably attuned +before hand.” + +“Then I suppose you understand how to effect this?” asked Hussain, +looking at Ali with a searching glance. + +Ali was silent. + +“Are you a freed slave? Who was your master in Bagdad before?” + +In answer to this Ali mentioned a name. + +“You seem to me to be rather an Arab than a Frank,” said Hussain, very +emphatically. + +As Ali was going to reply, Hussain suddenly exclaimed, “Yes, it is he, +I know the hateful countenance, I know the detestable features.” Pale +with fury he put his hands to his side, but did not find his sword. +“Wait a moment,” he said, with affected indifference, “I shall be here +again instantly.” + +Leaving the arbour hastily, he clapped his hands to summon a slave; but +none appearing, he hurried to the house. Ali and Gulhyndi were now in +the utmost despair. + +“Come, my beloved,” she said, as she embraced Ali, “only through the +heart of his daughter shall his sword find its way to yours.” + +“That would not be a very strong shield,” cried a hoarse voice, from +the wall; “come, master, save your life, and own the fidelity of your +servant.” + +Ali cast his eyes upwards and saw Lockman sitting astride on the wall, +with a rope ladder which he quickly lowered. He embraced his beloved, +and availed himself of this mode of rescue, which came as if sent by +Heaven. He was soon on the other side of the wall with Lockman, who, +with singular speed, took him round the corner and concealed him in a +thick hedge. As soon as night came on he hastened home, attended by +Lockman, and thanked him for his marked fidelity and his intrepid +courage. + +The first thing he now did was to speak to his father and confide his +secret to him. He said, at length, “As you love your son, conquer your +hatred against Hussain, go with me to him, solicit the hand of his +daughter for me, and offer your hand to him in reconciliation.” + +“Is this possible, my son?” said Ibrahim. “Can love so far carry you +away that it makes you forget what you owe to your father? You ask of +me to degrade myself for the sake of your passion?” + +“Is it degrading to reconcile oneself with one’s enemy?” asked Ali. + +“I did once make a step towards a reconciliation,” replied Ibrahim, +“which was contemptuously spurned, and I have sworn by the Omnipotent +Allah that as sure as the gold cloth was torn, so surely shall Hussain +be for ever torn from my heart. Compose yourself, my son, conquer your +passion; there are pretty girls enough in Bagdad besides her. I am +rich and can buy the most beautiful slaves for you; but never think of +an alliance with the blood of Hussain; it would be an union against +nature, and the day of your union would be the day of your father’s +death.” + +All the entreaties and persuasions of Ali were of no avail with his +father; the otherwise mild Ibrahim was incensed against his son to a +degree that had never been known before, and, turning his back upon +him, he said, “Be silent and forget your folly if you do not wish, me +to curse the moment in which your mother brought you into the world. +He who loves Hussain’s daughter cannot love me, and I must look upon +him as an enemy who intends evil against me.” + +Ali was now left alone in despair. Soon, however, Lockman made his +appearance, and asked him, “Why are you so dejected?” + +“Fate will deprive me of my earthly bliss,” replied Ali. + +“When did fate ever do so?” rejoined Lockman, “that must have happened +in a moment when I was not present.” + +“Begone,” cried Ali, “am I not unhappy enough without your mockery +aggravating my grief?” + +“I come not only with mockery,” said Lockman, “but sometimes with rope +ladders.” + +“Pardon me,” said Ali, “grief made me forget your kindness.” + +“Well,” replied Lockman, “I forgive every thing but awkwardness.” + +“And what remedy is there for me?” + +“Nothing easier than to find the remedy for you, provided you will make +use of it.” + +Ali looked at him amazed. + +“Have you then forgotten the caliph entirely? His favour, and what he +told you at the time?” asked Lockman. + +A ray of hope now darted through Ali’s desponding mind. + +“Go to the caliph,” continued Lockman, “confess all to him; he will be +amused, nay, rejoiced, for it will flatter him to find that you have +been at last caught in the net of love. You have before now found +favour in his sight; he will laugh at your love intrigue and give his +orders; one word from him will be the foundation of your happiness.” + +Ali was delighted, but his joy shortly left him after a closer +examination of Lockman’s advice. He thought of the wrath of Hussain, +his vindictive disposition, and said to himself: “If I am to go I must +go at once, to-morrow it will be too late; he is spiteful, he is cadi, +and has the power to put his evil designs into execution.” + +“Then go this very evening,” said Lockman. + +Ali wrapt himself in his cloak and went. The evening was already +advanced, but the weather was fine and the moon shone. When he arrived +at the palace he saw that it was splendidly lighted up, and he heard +music. “Ah,” he said, with anxious heart, “the caliph is celebrating a +festival to-night; there is no hope of my being admitted, and to-morrow +it will be too late.” + +His fears were confirmed by the words of the porters, who told him that +the caliph would speak to no one so late, and that he must return the +next day. One of them, however, said: “What can this stranger have to +say to the caliph? Why is he wrapt up in a large cloak, and why does +he come at this hour of the night? Confusion is in his face. Might he +not be a traitor who intends to murder the caliph in a private +interview? I think it will be most advisable to bring him to the cadi +that he may guard him for the night in his house. To-morrow he can be +released again if found innocent.” + +Several of the others agreed to this proposal, saying: “It is not the +first time that such an attempt has been made against the caliph’s +life. The caliph is too noble-minded to have any suspicion; but it is +the duty of his servants to watch over his safety.” + +The terror of Ali may easily be conceived when one of the guard laid +hands on him to conduct him to Hussain. In his alarm he threw back his +cloak, and cried: “I am Ali the son of Ibrahim! the caliph knows me and +has shown me distinguished favour. I have to communicate things of +importance, and you will incur his highest displeasure if you treat a +peaceful citizen like a base vagabond.” + +Fortunately for Ali one of the guard knew him; and persuaded the others +to release him, assuring him that it was impossible to speak to the +caliph that night, and that he must return the following day. + +Ali, in this state of uncertainty, walked a long time up and down the +street. He had been denied an appeal to his only deliverer; he was +unwilling to return to the house of his incensed father without having +effected his purpose; and from the enraged cadi he had to fear the +worst. Deeply distressed, he sat down on a bench on the banks of the +Tigris. + +He had not been there long before he perceived three old dervishes +coming slowly up the street. They saluted him, but he scarcely noticed +it. One of them came up to him and sat down next to him, whilst the +others pursued their way. + +“Let it not displease you, sir,” said the old man, “that I address you +without knowing you,--but if one has no acquaintance one must try to +make some. We are dervishes, and are coming from Basra in order to +speak to the caliph on matters of consequence. Unfortunately we +arrived here too late. He celebrates a festival for a new slave whom +he has received into his harem: and we were obliged to quit the palace +without succeeding in our object. We had hoped to be allowed to sleep +quietly in the outer court of the palace until to-morrow; but this +hospitality is no longer permitted, as they fear the safety of the +caliph might be endangered. We have already been walking about for +more than an hour to find accommodation in an inn. I am the oldest, +and am most weary,--permit me, therefore, to rest myself at your side; +my companions will perhaps be more successful in their search.” + +“I regret,” said Ali, “that this evening I am disposed to any thing +rather than to entertaining people by my conversation. But if you will +go to my father’s house (telling him at the same time where he resided) +he will receive you hospitably, and will feel pleasure in entertaining +you during your stay in Bagdad. Come with me and I will show you the +way. It is, moreover, not safe for us to loiter any longer about the +streets, for the constables of the cadi have orders to arrest every one +whom they meet after a certain hour.” + +“Why, we have nothing to fear from them to night,” replied the dervish, +“as they are making merry at the cadi’s expense, in consequence of the +great fortune which his daughter has met.” + +“What do you mean by that?” asked Ali. + +“Why,” replied he, “have you not heard that she has been given to the +caliph, and that the festival is celebrated on her account? If the +love she has kindled in the caliph, when he saw her for the first time, +is of lasting duration, she may entertain the hope of becoming one of +his most favourite wives.” + +“Impossible!” cried Ali. + +“It is quite true,” said the dervish. + +“Then,” exclaimed Ali, “I must speak to the caliph. He must restore +her to me! I will strike down the guards if they offer to prevent my +entrance. I will murder the caliph, and then her and myself----” + +“Young man, you are mad! Would you murder the Commander of the +Faithful? The mere utterance of such a design is high treason.” + +“I go,” cried Ali, half frantic, “I can die with Gulhyndi, but not +survive her dishonour and my own.” + +“What dishonour?” asked the dervish. “Can it be any thing but the +highest honour for her to rest in the arms of Haroun al Raschid?” + +“Heaven and earth!” said Ali, as he attempted to go. + +“Wait an instant,” said the old man, “and compose yourself. Is it +possible,” he continued, “that the same city can contain two men of +such opposite temperaments? Love has changed you to a blood-thirsty +tiger, and a youth named Ali is said to live here who is a pattern of +such a cool nature, that his fame has reached us even at Basra.” + +“I am this very Ali!” cried the unfortunate youth. + +“You Ali? Impossible! Ali is wise.” + +“The highest wisdom is love,” said Ali; “but why do I tarry here, and +waste my time upon you, while--ah?----” + +He was going to tear himself away from the old man and hasten to the +palace, but the dervish said, “As you are in such great haste, I will +detain you only long enough to listen to one word of reason, if your +agitated feelings will allow you. You have offered us a night’s +lodging without knowing us, and thereby laid us under some obligation, +and as it is, moreover, the duty of men of our pious order to assist +believers as far as we can, follow my advice and come with us, and we +will bring you before the caliph. My companions are approaching and +will go with us. Your purpose of striking down the guards is sheer +madness, and you will repent it if you reflect a moment. In order to +be admitted, we must say we come on important business from the +governor of Basra. Once in the caliph’s presence, we will, as +ministers of religion and virtue, throw ourselves at his feet and +solicit your betrothed from him. Perhaps we may move him,--perhaps he +will be touched by your situation, and if he is not, then there is +still time enough for you to act as despair prompts you.” Ali thanked +the good dervish for his offer. The other two were soon informed of +the plan, and immediately assented to it as the best arrangement, +though they had some difficulty in persuading Ali, who, notwithstanding +the distracted state of his mind, perceived to what danger they exposed +themselves on his account. + +Arrived at the palace, they found but little difficulty in obtaining +admittance; a few words to the guards procured them a ready entrance, +and much respect was shown to the eldest. They were led through +several apartments into a magnificent saloon, which was lighted with +innumerable wax tapers. In the back ground stood the caliph’s throne, +and a great number of young girls afforded amusement by music and +dancing. Ali, however, could discern neither the caliph nor Gulhyndi; +and turning to the old dervish, with his face quite pale, he asked, +“Where are they?” + +“The caliph has probably retired to his own apartment with his young +bride,” replied he. “Alas! poor Ali, we have come too late.” + +Ali shuddered, when the dervish began to break out into loud laughter, +and throwing off his cap and cloak, stood before him in princely +splendour as Haroun al Raschid. “Wise Ali,” he cried, “must I see you +again in a situation where you are not a hair’s breadth wiser than the +caliph?” So saying, he took him by the hand and led him to an +adjoining apartment, where he was received by Gulhyndi. “Accept your +bride from my hands,” said the caliph; “she is yours, and I renounce +all my claims to her. But I will not proceed in an arbitrary manner in +this affair; I have sent for your parents, and trust to obtain their +consent.” He had scarcely uttered these words, when Hussain and +Ibrahim were brought in. “Hussain!” said the caliph, sternly, “I have +reason to be very angry with you. You have not offered me your +daughter on my own account, you have employed me as an instrument to +wreak your revenge. You have sacrificed this poor girl to prevent +Ali’s union with her; she would be unhappy, had not despair inspired +her with courage to disclose all to me. Give your consent, as that is +the only way by which you can be restored to my favour.” + +“Commander of the Faithful!” replied Hussain, “yours is the power, but +you are good and just, and you will not abuse it. From the moment when +I discovered that my daughter would be beautiful, I formed the +resolution that she should belong to you or none. I was obliged thus +suddenly to put this resolution into effect by this youth, the son of +my deadly enemy, who has not solicited my daughter from me, but has +cunningly crept into my house in order to seduce her. That I give to +you what I thought too good for every one else cannot surely displease +you. You are the father of your people, and you will not punish with +your displeasure your slave, who in his trouble, flies to you for +refuge.” + +“I know all,” said the caliph; “use no shifts. You and Ibrahim shall +become friends again, and render your children happy;--such is my will.” + +“This alliance,” replied Hussain, “would be my greatest misfortune, and +death more welcome. I entreat you, sire, if I have shown any fidelity +and zeal towards you during my long service; reward them by allowing me +the authority of a father; do not deprive me of the power over the fate +of my child.” + +“She cannot be mine,” cried Al Raschid. + +“Then,” said Hussain, “my misfortune is great; permit me and my +daughter to go home, and mourn the loss of your favour in sackcloth and +ashes.” + +“And you, Ibrahim,” said the caliph, turning to him, “will you not +advance a step towards the happiness of your child?” + +“Commander of the Faithful,” said Ibrahim, “I do not think that a man +is made more unhappy by not obtaining a woman upon whom he has set his +heart, perhaps only for a moment. If it were so, I ought to be very +unhappy, for Hussain is the very man who once robbed me of my +betrothed, and with her the hope of my youth. I trust my son will be +contented to share the fate of his father, and to suffer what I have +suffered--a grief which I know, from experience, does not endure long, +and for which the world affords us sufficient compensation.” + +The blood came into Al Raschid’s face, and a fire flashed from his +eyes, which usually was the forerunner of sudden wrath; still he +restrained himself. “Is it your unalterable resolution,” he asked, “to +conspire against the happiness of this young man, and against my will?” + +Both parents perceived the emotion of the caliph’s mind. Hussain +continued calm, but Ibrahim turned pale, and threw himself at the +caliph’s feet, exclaiming: “I am your slave, your pleasure be done! +You are wise, and you act as the successor of the Prophet, as the +guardian angel of religion and the people. I give my consent.” “My +son,” he thought within himself, “may take several wives; he may +repudiate her whom he took first; I shall not lose so much as Hussain, +and be no nearer to him than formerly.” + +Hussain contemplated him, smiling, with a chilling and contemptuous +expression. + +“And what do you say, Hussain?” asked the caliph. + +“Commander of the Faithful, your will be done. To-morrow I will +celebrate the nuptials of my daughter; but you will permit me to take +her home with me to-night. Ali’s betrothed must not pass the night in +the harem of the caliph.” + +“Take her; but your life shall answer for her.” + +“I answer for her with my life,” said Hussain, with composure; and +taking his daughter by her hand, he retired. + +“Oh! let him not go hence!” exclaimed Ali. “Gulhyndi, my beloved!” + +She turned round, and looked at Ali with a sorrowful smile, and then +went away with her father. The caliph consoled Ali, who went home with +Ibrahim, in the greatest despair. + +When Hussain arrived home, he ordered his daughter to go to bed +immediately, that she might rise with the early dawn, bathe, perform +her devotions, and prepare for a long journey which they would make +together. Poor Gulhyndi passed the night in the greatest affliction, +being convinced that her father had arranged every thing for flight, +and that she had seen Ali for the last time. + +Early the next morning Hussain entered her chamber, and seeing her on +her knees in fervent prayer, retired until she had finished; he then +ordered Maria to go to her room. He now said to his daughter: “I was +delighted to see you praying so fervently. I doubt not but that Allah +will forgive the sins that you have committed in this world against +your father and your honour. All is now over in this world. My enemy +has triumphed; he has won the heart of the caliph, and Haroun al +Raschid will use his power, and have me executed if I do not comply +with his wish. As ever since I commenced life, honour always had a +higher worth than life itself, I now much prefer death to disgrace. +But I will not quit this world until I have deprived you of the +possibility of degrading me after my death, by a shameful alliance with +the son of my worst enemy. The prophet has given every Mussulman the +right of chastising his children, and has made him the master of their +lives. As a wise guardian, who sees that the flower which he has +carefully cultivated will, in time, be destroyed by worms, so do I +pluck you, fair bud, that you may not wither disgracefully. I take you +with me to the everlasting habitations, and hope to answer there for +this act with a good conscience. Praised be Allah, the Lord of the +creation, the Judge of the last day, the most merciful Being!” + +With these words he took a dagger from his bosom, and plunged it into +the heart of the beautiful Gulhyndi. For an instant he held his +daughter, who was now pale in his arms, looked at her, and then laid +her gently on the ground. He now took a blue silk cord, put it round +his neck, drew it tight without trembling, and thus voluntarily cut +short his days, faithful to his pride and implacability. + +The following morning the caliph went for Hussain and Gulhyndi; only +their corpses were found. Ali shed many tears on the pale face of his +Gulhyndi, but they could not wake her. It being a custom with the +Mohammedans to bury their dead three hours after their decease, Hussain +and his daughter were deposited immediately in a burial vault outside +of the city, whither Ali followed his beloved. When all had retired, +he alone continued sitting in the burying-ground, on her tomb. In the +clear night, when the moon illumined the tomb, he said, after a deep +silence: “I must see her once more; the sacred moon shall once more +shine upon her in my arms, before her beautiful body is reduced to +dust.” As he said these words, he saw something moving in the high +grass between the graves. In hopes that it was the grave-digger, he +went near, to ask him to lift the stone from the tomb. On approaching +quite close, he discovered that it was Lockman, and shuddered at +meeting this little monster on so sacred a spot. By the pale moonlight +he appeared to him more hideous and fiend-like than formerly. “What +are you doing here?” he asked him. + +“I assist my master, as I am ever wont to do.” + +“I no longer want your assistance; you are the cause of her misfortune +and her death; you seduced me to see her; without me she would still +live and be happy.” + +“Would you rather wish never to have seen her?” + +“Go call the grave-digger, and then go home.” + +“The grave-digger is from home; I know what you want, and can afford +you better assistance than he.” + +“You shall not move the stone from the grave.” + +“That would be of little use, for she is not in it.” + +“She is with Allah, but her body is there. I have myself lowered the +coffin into the vault, and have never since left the spot.” + +“Where her body is, there she also is,” said Lockman; “but neither of +them is in the vault.” + +Having said these words, he picked up a human bone from the ground, and +knocked with it gently three times on the stone, which moved of its own +accord. “Now look in,” said he. + +Ali looked, and saw Gulhyndi’s and Hussain’s coffins standing open and +empty. “Heaven! what is this?” cried Ali, rending his clothes in +despair. + +“Gulhyndi is not dead,” said Lockman; “she lives, and still lives for +you; if you wish to see her, go some night across the desert. Rest +yourself near the spring of Ali Haymmamy, and then go towards the ruins +of Babylon; towards the west there is a large grotto of marble; at its +entrance you will find me ready to conduct you to your beloved. Banish +fear from your heart, and harbour no unworthy suspicion towards your +friend and protector.” + +When Lockman had thus spoken, he went away and disappeared among the +graves, a few pale blue _ignes fatui_ alone marking the way which he +went. Ali, who followed him with his eye, started up as from a +frightful dream, scarcely knowing what to think of all that had +happened. The moon cast her pale light on the tomb enclosing the +coffins; a heavy dew had fallen on the grass, and grasshoppers were +chirping on its moist blades. + + +SECOND PART. + +In the centre of Upper Asia, the most ancient, and, at the same time +the least known country in the world, is a high table-land, across +which runs a chain of lofty rocky mountains. Its soil consists of +coarse sand and gravel, in which, however, are often found the most +beautiful precious stones. Here and there is found, during the +summer-season, patches of rich pasture to which the Mongols bring their +cattle. Over its greatest extent it is quite barren, without either +tree or shrub, although in some places springs are gushing forth which +soon run off in the stony ground. The elevated basins in the +snow-capped mountains are reservoirs from which innumerable small +rivulets flow down in every direction through the crevices, and form +the mighty rivers of Asia. + +Large heaps of stones are piled up at short distances, pointing out the +way to the caravans, and near them wells are dug out for their +refreshment in the burning heat. Besides these are found many salt +lakes among these mountains, which, viewed from a distance, have a +reddish appearance. The wild horse Dscheggetai is seen running about +in herds. In its slight make it resembles the mule; and with its slim +stag-like neck, and its beautiful cream colour, it rushes across the +desert like clouds of drifted sand. All the domestic animals of +Europe, the dog, cat, ox, rein-deer, and horse, here rove in their +primitive wildness, at war with the still wilder and untamed lions, +tigers, panthers, and the horrible serpents who dwell in the clefts and +creep forth in the darkness of night. Here and there the diggers of +rhubarb have built their huts on some rocky fastness under the green +cedars, and are the only human beings who are met in this wild scene. + +In these immense unknown regions there are parts surrounded by chains +of lofty mountains, where beautiful nature still blooms in a +paradisaical youthfulness, which no mortal eye ever yet has seen. + +Here the spirits live in all their natural grandeur, as in the first +days of creation before Allah had formed man. They choose their abode +according to their several dispositions; the evil spirits, whose nature +is malicious, and whose deeds are destructive, haunt, for the most +part, the wildest and most barren spots, living in dark damp caverns +deep below the earth, and bestride at night the pestilential winds to +visit the men on the fertile southern coasts of Asia. The good spirits +live in cool grottoes in the beautiful and fertile parts near springs, +and often with the morning dawn soar through the air to Arabia, Persia, +and India, to refresh and accompany those men who render themselves +worthy of their assistance. The Eastern nations call this unknown +wonderful land Ginistan; and though knowing it to be on the earth, they +yet think it inaccessible, and separate it from all the inhabited +countries of the globe. + +In one of these beautiful grottoes, where clear crystals forced +themselves like icicles through stones glittering with ore, the lovely +Gulhyndi for the first time reopened her eyes, being roused by a +rippling spring in the back ground, which gushed down into a basin of +polished jasper. The limpid stream served her as a mirror when she +awoke, and there she saw herself reflected in the most charming +morning-dress. After having contemplated herself for a moment, she +uttered a sigh of wonder: all around her became animated. From the +streamlet rose nymphs with rushes in their hair, the water still +flowing from their snowy bosoms; in their hands they had instruments +which they held against the rippling of the stream, and these struck +the cords and produced wonderful sounds. In the trees hung beautiful +boys with wings of splendid colours; their golden locks flowed from +their heads like foliage, and a glow like that of the rising sun beamed +from their rosy cheeks. From the clefts in the rocks fantastic figures +stretched forth their faces, pale, mournful faces, with crowns of gold +and precious stones on their heads, holding silver gongs in their +hands, on which were suspended silver bells, which they struck. +Gulhyndi’s astonishment was at its height, when she heard these +singular creatures sing the following words: + + “Mountains, rivers, breezes fleet, + Greet thee, sweet. + Greet thee in the dew drop’s bright, + Queen of light. + The night has lull’d the rose’s child, + Soft and mild, + Has she wrapp’d it in her veil, + But its leaves are opened all + When sunbeams fall + Warmly at morn into the vale. + And thy fate has been the same. + Thy soft frame + Died away in slumber deep. + Soon has sleep + Colour’d thy fair cheeks again. + The wild bird’s strain + Wakes thee from thy sweet repose. + In the fresh-blooming lap of nature + Thou hast gained new charms, fair creature, + Like the rose.” + + +Then these fantastic forms vanished again, and she heard the spring +ripple, as before the rustling of the trees, and the echoes through the +vaults of the cavern. Soon a troop of girls dressed in white came into +the grotto, spread a carpet, and put upon it the most exquisite viands, +placed two cushions, one for her, and another for a second person, and +then bowed and said, “Your guardian angel is coming.” + +Gulhyndi had scarcely recovered from her astonishment, than, amidst a +train of singing and dancing creatures, a handsome youth entered, +dressed far more splendidly than the Caliph of Bagdad himself. A +mantle of the finest purple hung down from his shoulders, the rest of +his attire was of snow-white silk, and he had a crown of glittering +rubies on his head. He sat down, and asked Gulhyndi to do the same. +When the dancers and singers had retired, he said, “Gulhyndi is now in +the bliss of Paradise.” + +She was silent and trembled. The splendid king begun to take some of +the meats that were served up, and said, after a short silence, +“Gulhyndi is in the abode of enjoyment, let her enjoy without fear.” + +Upon this she rose and fell down at his feet, saying, “Powerful being, +I cannot enjoy any thing; my enjoyments were few when I was living, +they are still less now that a superior power has placed me in your +Eden. Give me back my Ali when he has ended his days; until then my +dreams within these sacred shades shall recall to me the past and +prepare me for a blissful eternity.” + +“Am I less ethereal than you?” said the young king, “and do I not +participate in these things? Take one of these fruits, its juice is +heavenly, its enjoyment spiritual.” + +Gulhyndi bowed low, but found it impossible to accept the fruit he +offered her; for, notwithstanding his beauty, there was something in +his features that inspired her with terror and warned her not to accept +it. + +At this he smiled and rose, saying, as he retired: “This earthly nature +must be purified.” + +Gulhyndi was alone all day. She went out of the grotto to walk about +in the beautiful country around. Towards sunset she was tormented with +hunger and said to herself: “Can one really feel such an earthly +appetite in a state of bliss? But, alas! I am not in a state of +bliss; I feel as earthly as I did before; deep melancholy and yearning +are gnawing my heart.” As she said these words her eyes glanced at a +bread tree which overhung a fountain. It looked so innoxious that she +plucked some fruit, ate it, took some water in the hollow of her hands +and drank. She felt herself refreshed and invigorated by her scanty +repast, and her heart felt lighter. The setting sun shone kindly on +her through the deep clefts of the snow-capped mountains that bounded +the horizon, as he cast his beams on the gold leaved shrub, called +_Dsaac_, which bloomed on the brink. Flying fish moved their silver +fins in his last rays. Gulhyndi walked peacefully back to her grotto +amid the evening song of the twittering birds. A sweet slumber soon +came over her as she reclined on her couch, during which a pleasant +dream showed her her beloved Ali. + +For some days she repeated her walk, and at evening returned to her +grotto. The young king came daily with increased pomp; he spoke kindly +to Gulhyndi, had dances and music performed, and sang himself, whilst +his eyes tenderly contemplated her charms. She continued taciturn and +reserved; she touched none of the dainties that were placed before her, +and opened neither her ear nor her heart to his singing. He always +smiled when he departed and said: “The earthly nature must be purified.” + +Gulhyndi was delighted when he was gone, for she could then wander +about in the delightful and verdant region. Oh, how much did she wish +that her Ali was with her! The beauties of nature were here greater +than imagination could conceive. Among the many variegated birds she +was particularly pleased with a pheasant of the Argus species; she +tamed him in the few first days; he walked by her side, stood before +her in the sun, with his yellow body and black spots on his wings; his +head and neck were red, and the former was adorned by a blue crest. +When she stroked him he spread out his long wings with orange feathers +like a fan, which glittered with large oval eyes. In the fresh green +meadows she found a quantity of the fine plant called _ginseng_, which +the eastern nations so highly esteem, because it cures all diseases. +She had no doubt that she was in Paradise; but for the angel, as he was +called, she could feel no affection, having, on the contrary, a dislike +to him. He seemed to be a sensual spirit, and though so handsome she +thought she discovered features which reminded her of a man of hideous +appearance whom she had seen once or twice in her life, namely, +Lockman, Ali’s slave. Once while she was walking across a field +leading to a forest, a dreadful tiger came running towards her with +open jaws; he stopped on coming quite close, couched down and stared at +her, as if he were going to pounce on her and tear her to pieces. At +first Gulhyndi was terrified, but soon recovered herself. At this +moment the young king, returning from hunting amid the sounds of +bugles, approached, and seeing the tiger in this menacing attitude +before her, hastened to kill him with his spear. “I have saved your +life, fair maiden,” said he. + +“Impossible, sir,” she replied; “my earthly life, as you have before +told me, I have lost already, and my eternal life I can obtain only by +a good conscience, and lose only by sinful thoughts, from which may +Allah preserve me!” + +“I appreciate your courage and sagacity,” said the young king, vexed, +and he left her in anger. + +After several days had passed, and Gulhyndi still continued the same, +the young king said, “It is my duty, fair Gulhyndi, to show you what +you do not desire to see. You are lavishing your affections on an +unworthy mortal, and thereby render yourself unfit for joys of a higher +order. Are you desirous of seeing your Ali once more?” + +“Oh!” cried she, “favour me with this blessed sight, and you shall reap +my eternal gratitude.” + +“You shall see him this very night in your grotto,” replied he. + +In the evening, shortly after sunset, while the moon shed her beams on +the grotto, he came again, dressed as when she first saw him, in his +purple mantle, and with a crown of rubies on his head, which sparkled +brightly in the moon’s rays. “Look into the depth of the cavern while +all is dark,” he said, “but take care not to look at me during the +appearance of the apparition, otherwise all will suddenly vanish.” + +He now waved his wand, and Gulhyndi saw through a bright opening, her +Ali in the deep recess, in the arms of a beautiful young girl, and she +heard him say, “Fair Zulima! can you love me: Gulhyndi is dead, and my +love has expired with her.” On hearing these words Gulhyndi grew pale, +but recovering herself suddenly, and remembering the warning of the +young king, she turned her head quickly, without being observed, and +now beheld by her side, instead of the beautiful youth, Lockman, with +his hideous humps, squinting eyes, and cock’s feathers, on his pointed +hat. He no sooner perceived that she was looking at him, than the +apparition disappeared, and he again stood before her in his former +beauty. + +“Holy Allah! Mighty prophet!” exclaimed she, falling on her knees and +extending her white arms towards the moon, “save me from this fiend! +Remove this seducer who harasses me!” As she uttered these words the +young king vanished, and her faithful Argus came in and sat down at her +side. The birds were singing in the bushes; the fountain, which had +ceased flowing, again murmured, and Gulhyndi fell into a sweet slumber, +during which a dream showed her Ali, with his hand on his heart, +saying, “I am faithful.” From this time she saw the young king no +more. She lived on the roots of the earth, the fruit of the trees, and +drank from the fountain. No nymph or other creature appeared again. +Her heart being tranquilised, hope revived again in her soul, and she +bloomed like the rose in the valley. She tamed many pretty animals, +and lived among them like a shepherdess, praying night and morning to +Allah, that he might show her Ali, who appeared nightly, in her most +pleasing dreams. + +While the fair Gulhyndi thus lived happily, her father, on awaking, +found himself in a condition quite the reverse of hers. When he opened +his eyes, he was stretched on a barren rock, under a burning sun, and +with the cord still round his neck. Stung by an innumerable quantity +of gnats and flies, that were buzzing round him, he sprung up, and with +all the torments of a parching thirst, which allowed him no time for +reflection, he ran about seeking a spring to refresh himself, but found +none--not even a tree was nigh to cast a shade in which he might +repose. Just as he was falling senseless to the ground, he discovered +a cavern, which, by the rays of the sun shining into it, he found was +spacious. + +Further in the back ground some rays of light fell in through an +aperture. Hussain entered, and found a table cut out in the rock. A +stone near it served as a chair, a wooden goblet stood on it, and close +by a fountain was bubbling. The first thing he did was to take the +goblet and run to the fountain in order to fill it and drink. He +filled it a second time, but finding it too cool in the shady cavern, +and apprehensive of producing a fever, he took the goblet, sat down at +the entrance of the cavern in the sun, and slowly emptied its contents. +While doing this, it seemed as if something was moving at the bottom of +the goblet, and on looking in he discovered a black leech writhing. +Disgusted, he threw from him the goblet, the contents of which caused +vomiting, and he fell fainting on the ground. + +He was roused by a violent shaking. Opening his eyes, he saw a little +deformed figure standing before him with a hump on his chest and back, +with squinting eyes, and with a nose that hung over his mouth like a +bunch of purple grapes. His clothes were black, and he wore a miner’s +apron, having on his head a black cap, upon which appeared a death’s +head and cross bones. In his hand he held a miner’s hammer. “What are +you doing here?” asked the monster, “Who gave you permission to enter +my cavern, to cast my goblet in the sand, and to sleep on my ground?” + +“Pardon me, sir,” replied Hussain; “I am a poor unhappy wretch, and +know not how I am come hither. I was once Cadi of Bagdad, thus much I +recollect; I had a beautiful daughter, who was to be married to the son +of my enemy, but I would not give my consent. What took place further +is concealed from my memory as if by a mist.” + +“You have come here without my permission,” said the little miner; “you +have cast my goblet into the dust; you would not allow your daughter to +marry; all this deserves punishment.” + +He now took poor Hussain by the hand, and led him into a cavern, where +the icy cold water incessantly poured into the abyss below, like a +shower bath, through innumerable holes. Hussain was obliged to stand +on a narrow piece of rock, where, in spite of a shivering fit of ague, +he dared not move lest he should fall into the well beneath. When he +had thus stood for a long time, the miner led him out and threw him on +the sand, under the burning sun, where he could not move. “This will +teach you not to throw my cup on the ground again, not to sleep again +in my cavern without my permission, and not to forbid again the +marriage of your daughter,” said the dwarf. He then filled the goblet +with water, took a piece of black bread from a recess in the rock, and +put both before Hussain, saying, “Eat, drink, and be my slave, but do +not venture twenty paces from the cavern; rest yourself that you may be +strong for work on my return.” + +When he was gone, Hussain took the bread which hunger made him relish, +notwithstanding it was very bad. As he took the goblet and again saw +the leech in it, he was near despair, put it down again, but unable to +resist any longer, he seized it and drank, as tormenting thirst at last +overcame his loathing. He had no sooner drank than the leech fastened +on his lip and bit him so sharply that he fell on the ground senseless. +Being aroused again by shaking, the little miner stood before him, +crying, “Have you thrown my goblet to the ground a second time?” + +Hussain trembled, but made no reply. + +“For this time it may pass. Follow me,” said the monster. + +Hussain was obliged to follow him further into the desert, when the +little man said, “I want to find gold and precious stones for my +crowns; but you are as yet too weak and ignorant to work in my mines: I +have, therefore, for the present, destined you for some light work. +You shall seek gold and precious stones on the desert. Every evening +you must bring me at least three good stones, and one ounce and a half +of gold; if you fail to do so, you may reckon upon punishment for your +idleness.” + +What a task for the unfortunate Hussain! He was obliged to walk the +whole day on the dry sand, and search under a scorching sun. He could +but rarely satisfy his cruel master, who generally punished him by +hunger and thirst, and the terrible icy cold bath. His food consisted +of mouldy bread, some fruits, and water out of the loathsome goblet; +but he was already so accustomed to the leech, that he was no longer +disgusted with it, making it rather his sole friend and companion. +When his hands were swollen from his long search between sharp stones, +and his feet with walking on them, he applied the leech to the +blisters, which mitigated his pains by sucking the inflamed blood. +Thus he lived for a long time. His pride and haughtiness, which in +former days had caused his daughter and himself so much sorrow, were +gradually forgotten; only his hatred and abhorrence for Ibrahim was +still felt, as though he were the cause of his misery. + +But it is now time to return to Ali and see what in the meanwhile has +happened to him. The first weeks of his disconsolate state had passed; +despair had exhausted itself; and hope began to revive him by pleasing +anticipations, reminding him daily of Lockman as the sole sheet-anchor +of his happiness. He indeed at first shuddered at the idea of +resorting to an evil spirit, but afterwards said within himself, “Is it +then really certain that he is evil? What has he done to prove him +malignant? Near Ali Haymmamy’s fountain in the desert I have seen +nothing but what is in the natural order of things. Lockman has served +me with his knowledge; he has endeavoured to withdraw me from solitude; +has procured me the pleasure of seeing my beloved; has saved my life +from the wrath of her father, and inspired me with hope when all hope +had fled. That he is hideous, that there is something repulsive in his +features; that blue flames flash from the earth where he treads--what +does all this signify? If he is a spirit, it must be easy for him to +assume what appearance he likes on earth. If he were a subtle spirit +he would show himself in the most captivating form of temptation. But +he despises this. Certainly he is one of those capricious beings, who +exert their influence on human life, and make men happy or miserable as +they please. He has favoured me, and it would be folly without +parallel not to avail myself of his kindness. What do I risk, now that +I have lost all on earth?” + +Ali found it an easy matter to obtain his father’s permission to wander +again to Babylon. The old man rejoiced that his son could still take +pleasure in something, and hoped he would soon console himself for his +loss. Ali therefore took his knapsack on his back, and set out on his +way as he had formerly done, being careful to observe the right time. +He crossed the desert in the delightful cool of morning, and met +nothing remarkable on his way. First, when he reached Ali Haymmamy’s +fountain, he was surprised to find the spot totally changed. The palm +trees were fresh and verdant, flowers grew round the brink of the +fountain, and he perceived no sulphurous exhalation; but saw, on +drawing near, a delightful brook of clear water. A cup of emerald hung +by a golden chain near the fountain, and invited him to drink. His +hand already held the cup filled, when suddenly a shuddering seized +him. He poured the water away, and dropped the cup, saying to himself, +“It is still cool, and I really feel no thirst, it is not well to amuse +oneself with supernatural things.” He spent the noon with his old +acquaintance the water-carrier, and towards evening proceeded in the +direction of Babylon. + +He searched long before he found the spot described by Lockman. The +sun had already sunk and cast his rays on some stones overgrown with +ivy, when Ali perceived an entrance, and fancied he saw Lockman. As he +went towards him, Lockman said: + +“Have you come at last? I have been waiting for you here more than an +hour. But what is the matter with you? You look pale and bewildered. +You do not seem to have confidence in me; why did you not drink at the +fountain? Have I not told you that without confidence nothing can +succeed?” + +“I have confidence,” replied Ali; “whoever you are, mighty spirit, +bring me to my Gulhyndi!” + +“I am a man like yourself,” replied Lockman, “a poor, good-hearted +fellow, who takes pleasure in helping others without thought of +himself. My industry has taught me various secrets of nature; and I +have applied my skill to your deliverance. Having discovered some +magnificent ancient vaults of Babylon, now in ruins for many +generations, I have fitted them for your use; there you may dwell happy +and undisturbed with your fair Gulhyndi. During the day you may walk +in these delightful fields, and at night the magnificent castle beneath +will enclose you within its strong walls. I will serve you as +formerly, and my delight shall be, as it ever has been, to show you my +fidelity and devotedness.” When he had said these words, he took Ali +by the hand, and conducted him down a stone staircase. + +Ali followed readily; but when he had counted nearly three hundred +steps in his descent into the earth, and still found no end, he began +to quake. It was pitch-dark around him, the only light they had being +from a dark lantern, which Lockman held in his hand, and which shone +full on his face, showing Ali his hideous features. He fancied he +often saw him distort his face, and smile malignantly. Just as he had +counted the three hundred steps he stopped, and cried: “Whither do you +lead me? I can go no farther. My Gulhyndi is an angel of light, she +cannot be in the darkest abodes of the subterranean world.” + +Lockman burst out into a roar of laughter, making the cavern tremble, +and the light in his lantern was extinguished. “Are you afraid to be +in the dark?” he asked. “Well, then, it shall soon be light!” + +He now struck the solid rock with his wand; it burst, and Ali found +himself in a most beautiful place, such as he had never seen. He +seemed to stand in a large church; slender columns of brown porphyry +rose high, like trees, supporting an arched ceiling of emerald, like +intertwined foliage. In the back ground stood a shining globe of red +crystal, semi-transparent, upon an altar. This globe illumined the +whole edifice, and appeared like the full moon in the horizon, shedding +her light into a dark forest. From this place they proceeded through a +narrow passage, which ended in a cheerful apartment, the walls of which +were of white polished marble. In its centre was suspended a +chandelier of diamonds, and at the further end a purple curtain, +falling in symmetrical folds, concealed a magnificent couch. On each +side of the couch stood two lions of brass, so naturally formed as to +appear living, had not the brightness of the metal proved the contrary. +“You are now in the haven of your joy and destination,” said Lockman. +“Upon this couch slumbers Gulhyndi, whom Heaven has destined for you. +She stretches her arms towards you, and it remains with you to choose +the moment when you will be the happiest of mortals.” + +When Lockman had said these words, he drew the curtain, and Ali saw his +Gulhyndi sleeping in the most charming attitude on black silk cushions. +Lockman, contemplating Ali, said, as he left the room, “Venture, and be +happy.” + +Ali stood there, blushing and trembling. The noble beauty of Gulhyndi +inflamed his heart. “Come, my beloved,” she cried in her sleep, +stretching out her arms, “come to my heart.” + +Ah hesitated; he approached her, but suddenly stopped. “No, Gulhyndi,” +he said to himself, “it is not thus we should meet again! Sleep +sweetly! I will go and await the moment when you rise and come towards +me.” + +With these words he drew the purple curtain, and hastened with quick +steps to the church. + +Perfect silence and peace reigned here. The brown porphyry columns +rose majestically, and the light from the moon in the choir played +strangely in the innumerable precious stones which covered the ceiling +like sparkling foliage. Ali knelt down. “Eternal Allah!” he cried, “I +stand far removed from thy bright moon, far from thy genial blooming +forest that adorns the surface of the earth! Anguish and expectation +oppress my bosom in the dark bowels of the earth, where burning lamps +and dead stones are to supply, by their flickering gleam, thy holy +light, thy fresh, young, and ever-changing nature. But where I am, +there thou art also! Thou seest me in the bowels of the earth, as on +the highest rocks. I am in thy power, wherever I go, and resign myself +confidently to thy protection.” + +He now approached the choir, where the shining crystal globe was slowly +turning on the altar. Curious to know how it was contrived, he went +towards it; but passing an open door which he perceived on his left, +and which seemed to be the entrance to a magnificent burial vault, he +drew near it. On both sides of the door stood two giants carved in +black stone, with drawn swords in their hands. Just as he was going to +enter, they dropped their swords crosswise before the entrance, and +would undoubtedly have cut him to pieces, had he not started back +immediately. He paused a moment in astonishment, but soon became +himself. He saw that the giants again raised their swords, and that +all was done by skilful mechanism. He, therefore, was careful not to +go straight up to the door, but slipped boldly round one of the giants, +treading on his feet instead of the threshold, and thus by a dexterous +turn found himself suddenly in a curious vault. The knotty walls and +arches were of black granite; here and there blue rays of light fell +through fissures in the rocks, as if from burning saltpetre. In the +centre stood an open silver coffin, in which was the body of a female +stretched out, attired in cloth of silver, and with a crown of diamonds +on her head. One blue ray fell through the ceiling, and illumined her +pale face. Ali shuddered, and was starting back, when at the same +instant he discovered a sparkling serpent moving on the breast of the +corpse, and pointing its sting at her heart. Inspired with a pious +veneration for the dead now before him, and indignant that a creeping +vermin should desecrate an embalmed body, Ali, without hesitation, and +forgetful of his own danger, hastened near, and seized the serpent by +the head to fling it away. But what was his astonishment at perceiving +that what he held in his hand was a talisman composed of precious +stones! He had no sooner removed it than the corpse sighed deeply, +opened her eyes, extended her arms, and rose in the coffin. She looked +around and contemplated Ah, who stood there amazed, with the talisman +in his hand. With her fore-finger on her lips, she seemed collecting +her thoughts; then stepped from the coffin and approached Ali, with the +splendid crown on her head, whilst the silver train of her dress swept +the ground. Ali, shuddering, exclaimed: “Praised be Allah, the most +merciful being!” + +“Praised be Allah!” she repeated. + +When Ali heard her utter the name of Allah, he took courage, and his +confidence increased when he saw the living red return to her cheeks. +She dropped the stiff silver robe to the ground, and now stood before +him in an azure garment, over which fell a gauze wrought with silver +stars; but she still retained the crown of diamonds. She now walked +back to the coffin to take the emerald sceptre that had laid at her +side, and as she seized it she exclaimed: “Now I have regained the +power I lost; thanks be to Ali’s courage, which has disenchanted me!” + +Ali knelt down; he knew from Gulhyndi’s description that she was the +beautiful fairy who had once appeared to his beloved in a dream, who +had often comforted her, and of whom they had heard nothing of late. + +“You see the cause of my not having appeared to Gulhyndi,” said the +gracious _Peribanu_, who guessed his thoughts; “I am still your mutual +friend. Follow me to the mosque; a few words will disclose all the +past.” + +Thus saying, she took his hand and led him to the splendid vault, sat +down upon a couch at some distance from the radiating globe, and said +as follows: “I am a good fairy, and have been living for some time at +enmity with the wicked Zelulu. Being once inflamed with love for me, +he solicited my hand, and on my treating him with contempt, he has ever +since entertained a violent hatred towards me. As he was not able to +vent it on me, he has wreaked his vengeance on many innocent persons. +This inveterate hatred towards them proceeds from his belief that they +do not really possess any good qualities. He thinks that their +inclinations deserve nothing better than to be disappointed, and he has +repeatedly told me, that he has no more compassion for a fallen man, +than for the insect that flies of its own accord into the flame, and +burns its wings. + +“When I once met him in a windy moonlight night, in a desert of Upper +Asia, I cried to him as I passed, ‘Zelulu, have pity on poor humanity.’ + +“‘Peribanu,’ he replied, ‘you have none on me, and why should I have +any on wretched mortals?’ + +“‘Love cannot be forced,’ said I, ‘but reason rules every thing, and +ought to rule you. Do you not tremble at the vengeance of the judge?’ + +“‘Teach me to esteem them,’ he exclaimed, ‘and I will cease to +persecute them.’ + +“Some time after that he came to me in a friendly manner, saying, +‘Peribanu, allow me to present you with a magnificent ornament for the +bosom. I shall consider your acceptance of it the only way of +compensating for the contempt you have expressed.’ + +“I was imprudent enough to accept this beautiful serpent of precious +stones, which you now hold in your hand, and placed it on my bosom. I +had scarcely done so when I fell into a death-like trance. In this +state Zelulu’s slaves brought me into this vault, where I should have +continued for centuries without hope of deliverance, had not Heaven, +through you, rescued me. Thus the wicked Zelulu exercised his power +over me without any resistance. He came to me every night, asking me +whether I would love him; for the charm was so contrived that it +deprived me of the exercise of my power and of motion, without +depriving me of consciousness. I have always answered his +importunities with a loud and distinct ‘No!’ so that he was obliged to +depart without hope.” + +The fairy now took Ali by the hand, and led him out of the mosque, +through a long corridor, into the apartment of white marble. She +touched his eyelids with her sceptre, and drew aside the curtain. What +was his astonishment when, instead of his Gulhyndi, he saw an image of +wax, which had but an imperfect resemblance to his beloved! The figure +stared at him with dull, glassy eyes, like a painted corpse. He could +not conceive how it was possible to have mistaken this horrible pale +lump for his Gulhyndi. Peribanu struck the wax figure with her +sceptre, it broke, and a hideous knot of poisonous serpents rolled from +its bowels, and fled into the clefts of the rocks for fear of her wand. +Ali cast his eyes on the two metal lions which stood on either side of +the couch, and saw in amazement that they were living. They wagged +their tails, and stared with fiery eyes at him. “Flee,” cried the +fairy, raising her wand, and they fled quickly, like obedient dogs. + +“Go home to your father,” said the good fairy, “do all he commands you, +and this shall be the means of your happiness. You will see Gulhyndi +again.” + +With these words she led him up the steps to an aperture, saying, “Go, +you will find yourself in a well-known spot, not far from your native +city. Remember what I have told you, and forget me not.” + +Saying this, she vanished. Ali stepped out, and found himself by the +brink of Ali Haymmamy’s fountain. It was a fine morning, and the +rising sun cast his rays upon him. He stood for a moment and looked +down into the depth, scarcely knowing whether what he had passed +through was a dream or reality: he remarked at the same time that he +still had the talisman in his hand. He was careful not to bring it +near his bosom; but kept it as a sign of the past singular events, and +wrapped it in the folds of his turban. Now he set out on his way with +a heart joyful and full of hope, and before noon he arrived at his +father’s at Bagdad. + +The following morning Ibrahim said to Ali, “I am rejoiced, my son, that +you have begun to compose yourself. There is no better remedy against +melancholy thoughts than amusement. I intend taking a journey to +Samarcand in a few days, and doubt not that it will be very +advantageous to us. I have already received my goods from a port on +the Red Sea, and expect to barter them profitably for the precious +things of Upper Asia. My advantage is yours; therefore go too, it will +cheer you and assist me.” + +Ali, recollecting what the fairy had told him, looked upon his father’s +proposal as a presage of his happiness; and soon Ibrahim and his son +departed from Bagdad, with a large number of slaves and heavily laden +camels. Not far from the city they fell in with another caravan, and +now hastened, as quickly as circumstances permitted, through many +remarkable countries and cities of the far-famed Samarcand. + +During their journey they were often obliged to cross deserts and +trackless steppes, where Ibrahim, never having made this journey +before, trusted himself to a guide. After having thus travelled for +several months, and stopped at different places, they one evening +passed through a desert. The guide, a little deformed man, with a red +nose, assured them that this would be the last, and promised that +within three days they would reach their destination. + +As they now passed through a narrow valley, bounded on either side by +lofty rocks, and thickly overgrown with pine trees, a most terrible +phenomenon presented itself, that dispersed the whole caravan. A +thunder-storm came on, and the lightning struck a mighty cedar, the +resinous bark of which immediately ignited. The whole tree was +instantly in a blaze, and the crackling fire spread on every side; all +the pine, fir, larch, and cedar trees were in one blaze. The lurid +tongues of the flames rushed fearfully along the mountain ridge in the +dark night. A thick smoke arose and darkened the air beyond. In the +universal confusion, where each only thought of saving himself, Ibrahim +lost sight of his son. Ali anxiously searched for his father but +without success. Throughout the awful night he rode about on his camel +until it would no longer carry him. Terrified at the fire, it at +length threw him off and rushed into the flames. Ali forced his way +boldly through a narrow pass in the rocks, which the fire had not yet +reached. Having passed through it, he saw before him a large valley +and a wood beyond. He rallied his last energies to reach it, and sank +down exhausted near a tree, where, by the light of the burning forest, +he saw that the fire was not likely to penetrate so far; more, his +failing strength did not permit him to observe, and weariness closed +his eyes. + +When he awoke, his first thought was of his father. He felt refreshed +by a short sleep, and hastened onward. The country, although it was +autumn, was blooming as though it were spring; nature had not purchased +her fruits with her blossoms, but fruit and blossoms glowed side by +side in sisterly concord. He had never seen such green fresh turf, nor +such a variety of flowers. Straight before him opened a beautiful +grove, with splendid orange and date trees, where he sat down and took +refreshment in the cool solitude. As he sat buried in thought, he +heard a voice call, “Ali! Ali!” Astonished, he looked round but saw +no one. Thinking he had been mistaken, he continued eating his repast +quietly. Suddenly the voice again cried directly opposite to him, +“Ali! Ali!” and the name was repeated in several places. He now +discovered a quantity of beautiful parrots flying about, which looked +at him, and repeated with complacency his name. “Who has taught them +this?” said Ali, to himself, and a sweet glow darted through his veins. +The parrots still repeated, “Ali! Ali! Come! Come!” and fluttered +from bough to bough. He followed them, and found himself at length +before a thick hedge that was impenetrable. The birds flew over it, +perched within it, and again cried, “Ali! Ali!” He now looked for an +entrance, and finding one, at last entered, and saw a splendid lawn, +enclosed by a semicircular hedge, both ends of which terminated by a +rocky wall. In the centre of the turf was a flowerbed, whither one of +the birds flew, again repeating his name. Looking at the plants, he +discovered they were all arranged in letters;--great was his delight +when he found an A. and G. beautifully entwined, and he no longer +doubted where he was. He discovered the beautiful grotto, and hastened +to it, exclaiming, “My Gulhyndi, where art thou?” To these words a +sweet voice replied: + + “Ali, dear Ali! where canst thou be? + Oft thy Gulhyndi weeps for thee.” + + +“What is that? It is not her voice, it is not the voice of birds.” + +“My Ali! My beloved friend! thy Gulhyndi often weeps for thee,” said a +pert starling, hopping about on the ground and picking up some seeds. + +“Ali! Ali!” cried the parrots, without. + +“Ali! Ali! my beloved friend! Gulhyndi often weeps for thee,” said +the starling, stretching out her neck, bending not, and looking at him +shrewdly. + +Now a fine bird, in a golden cage, began to whistle a melody which Ali +had taught Gulhyndi shortly before they parted. “Oh, she loves me!” he +cried. “She is here! She has taught these feathered songsters my name +and my songs. How many times must her lips have repeated these words +before these birds knew them.” At this moment he heard some one +approaching; “It is she!” he said to himself, “but she must not see me +yet--I must prolong this blessed moment.” With his staff he traced the +following lines in the sand: + + “Lovely Gulhyndi, sorrow no more, + What hate has taken, love will restore; + The sun is more bright when the storm is o’er.” + + +He had scarcely done this than the fair Gulhyndi, like a lovely queen +of nature, appeared with her numerous train. As a proud body guard, +there stepped before, with majestic step, two large bay coloured lions, +with thick manes. By her side walked the beautiful Argus, as a +faithful friend; while the most lovely birds fluttered, and the most +lovely beasts of the forest gamboled around her. The train was closed +by a troop of snow-white lambs with red ribbons round their necks, each +having a singing-bird on its head, chirping, while the lambs bleated. +Last of all came a stag, whose large antlers were hung with bells; so +that the bleating of lambs, the singing of birds, and the bells of the +stag were not unlike a merry band of Turkish music. + +When they arrived at the grotto, the two lions lay down on either side +of the entrance, and Gulhyndi, with her Argus, entered. All the rest +remained without, forming a semicircle, while Gulhyndi took her repast. +Two monkeys stood behind her couch, officiating as servants, and +offering her fruit, and water from the fountain. Argus stood by her +side, and, with his beak, caught in the air all the fragments which she +flung to him with her white hand. All that he missed, so that it fell +to the ground, the little starling snapped up before Argus had time to +stoop after it. + +When the repast was over, Argus went to the entrance, spread his +shining fan, and turned it several times, upon which the assembled +courtiers without dispersed. Only the lions remained at their post, +and Argus remained in the grotto with her mistress, as lady in waiting. + +Ali trembled with emotion when he beheld Gulhyndi, her fair hair +flowing in long tresses. She wore a green silk robe, fastened with a +purple girdle, without any other ornament. She appeared taller, more +blooming and majestic; she was no longer the languishing, pensive, +Oriental beauty sighing for liberty, but the healthy, sprightly +daughter of Eve, blooming as the fairest flower in nature. Still a +soft desire seemed to depress her arched brow, and indicated that, in +the midst of abundance, she still lacked something. + +While she was sitting with her eyes cast downwards, she discovered the +lines traced on the sand. She immediately recognised the characters, +but was doubtful whether she should trust her eyes. What was her +delight when convinced of the truth, by the happy Ali hastening and +throwing himself at her feet! Both now were in Paradise. + +When their first transport was over, they related all that had happened +to them since they last met. She told him that once, when she was +alone in the grotto, the two lions had suddenly broken through the +hedge. At this she was at first alarmed, but soon recovered on seeing +that they lay down on either side of the entrance, like obedient dogs, +and followed her as faithful guards. Ali could not suppress an inward +shudder at seeing that they resembled the bronze lions which, at +Peribanu’s command, had become hairy, and left the subterranean +apartment. He now built a hut in the neighbourhood of his Gulhyndi, +without concern for his father, whom he confidently supposed was in the +power of the fairy. But, unfortunately, this poor father had not fared +so well as his happy son wished. + +Ibrahim wandered for a long time in that awful night; he hastened to +the opposite side to get clear of the burning wood, instead of +penetrating through it as Ali had done. The ground became so stony and +rugged, that he could no longer ride on his camel. He tied it to a +tree, and endeavoured to make his way on foot through the thick bushes, +in order to reach a high tree, on which he might pass the night without +fear of serpents and wild beasts. As he proceeded, he fell into a +dark, damp, deep pit, where he lay for some time senseless. When he +recovered, he had only a faint recollection of the causes of his +present situation; he had quite forgotten Hussain’s and Gulhyndi’s +death, and fancied he had fled with his son from Bagdad, to escape the +persecutions of the malicious cadi. + +He had not remained long in this state before he saw coming through a +narrow rocky path, a little person dressed in black like a miner, with +a lantern in his hand. “Lockman,” cried Ibrahim, who immediately +recognised him, “you here, and in this garb! What does this mean? +Where is my son?” + +“You had better be your son’s keeper yourself,” replied Lockman; “I +have nothing to do with him, but I have something to do with you. Up +to work! you are now my slave.” + +With these words he seized Ibrahim, exhausted as he was, and led him to +the icy cold bath in the cleft. He then brought him out again, and +gave him bread and water, such as he had given to Hussain; but in his +cup there was no leech, and, on the whole, he treated him less harshly +than the cadi. + +When Ibrahim had taken his scanty meal, Lockman said: “Get up and go +with me; it was always your favourite business to seek riches. I will +show you the way to gold and precious stones.” + +He then took him to the desert, and commanded him to search. When +Ibrahim was left alone he was much confused, and grieved, but Lockman’s +threats made him obey. Walking about in the burning heat, he passed a +high piece of rock, in the shade of which some grass was growing. He +there beheld a pale, haggard man with sunken cheeks, sitting down, +greatly exhausted. Being naturally compassionate, he quickly ran for a +pitcher of water, which he had taken to the desert to quench his thirst +while working, and which, to keep the water fresh, he had buried in the +sand. This he brought, and put it to the lips of the fainting man. +The poor man drank, was refreshed, folded his hands as he raised his +eyes, and said: “Who art thou, angel from heaven, that assistest me in +my extremity?” + +Ibrahim knew the voice, and cried in amazement, “Hussain, is it you?” + +Hussain stared at him, saying, as well as exhaustion permitted, +“Ibrahim, are you here? How, have you come into this vale of tears to +comfort your enemy?” + +“By some evil fate I have fallen into the hands of mine enemy,” replied +Ibrahim, “who has condemned me to seek gold and precious stones in this +desert.” When he said these words, Hussain put out his hands for the +sack which he had filled that day with much labour; but what was his +terror on finding it half empty! “What is this?” he cried; “have you +come even in the last moments of my life to rob me and expose me to +frightful punishment?” + +Ibrahim affirmed that he had taken nothing; he felt compassion for poor +Hussain, and forgot his own trouble. + +“You lie, infamous fellow,” cried Hussain; “your bag is full, you have +filled it from mine.” + +“I assure you,” replied Ibrahim, “that I have taken nothing, nor have I +ever thought of grieving you, and, as a proof, I will exchange my bag +for yours whenever you wish.” He then offered his own. “Stop here and +rest yourself,” he continued. “I am not yet so tired as to be unable +to try to fill a second bag before evening.” He left him, and with +much pains collected the second half. Hussain did not know what to +think of all this, and both went together to the cavern without +speaking. + +“Are your bags full:” cried the monster, who was sitting at the +entrance as they arrived. “Empty them before me.” Ibrahim emptied his +bag first; it was full of gold and precious stones. Hussain came with +the one Ibrahim had given him--and it contained nothing but sand and +pebbles. Lockman looked silently incensed at Hussain, took him by the +arm, and led him, weak and fainting, again to the terrible rushing +shower-bath, where, for want of strength, he would have fallen into the +abyss, had not Lockman seized him and flung him half dead on the sand. + +“He is a villain,” said he to Ibrahim, while the other lay fainting. +“I will tell you plainly that he has slandered you to me, and is the +sole cause of my receiving you so harshly. I hate him, for he is not +even fit to do the work of a slave. If you will do me a service I will +restore you to liberty, bring you to your son, and arrange every thing +so that you may again live in Bagdad in your former happy +circumstances.” + +“What do you desire?” asked Ibrahim. + +“I am a spirit, and cannot dispose arbitrarily of the life of a mortal. +You, on the other hand, have power to destroy each other; take this +knife and thrust it into Hussain’s heart, then I will restore you to +your former happiness, and give you all the gold-dust and precious +stones in my cavern.” + +“Far be it from me,” said Ibrahim, “to act thus even to my bitterest +enemy. May God forgive the evil we have done, and for which we are +both now suffering. My hatred is extinguished. I have this day +exchanged my bag for his, with the honest intention of lightening his +burden. That it has turned out so badly is not my fault.” + +“Kill him,” cried Lockman, threatening as he reached him the knife, “or +I will throw you a hundred fathoms deep into the abyss, among serpents +and adders!” + +“Throw me,” cried Ibrahim, with firmness, clasping his hands, and +raising his eyes to the stars. + +“You have regained courage,” said Lockman, scoffing. + +“Misfortune inspires that,” replied Ibrahim. + +“Daring man,” cried Lockman, “you are not yet ripe, I will chastise you +slowly.” So saying he left him. + +“Poor Hussain!” sighed Ibrahim as he looked on the pale man. Hussain +opened his eyes, gave a friendly smile, and extended his hand to him, +saying, + +“I heard what passed between you and the sorcerer; whose wicked design +has ill succeeded. What was to separate us has united us. I now know +you; can you forgive me?” + +Ibrahim embracing him said, “Will you again be my friend?” + +“For life and death,” said Hussain, returning the embrace of his former +enemy. They knelt down, and Mahommed’s holy moon shone on their +reconciliation, which was sealed by a kiss, as she cast her pale gleam +over the desert, and the faint reflection from the sand was increased, +as if rejoicing that from the desert of affliction a flower had sprung, +which the Eden of a life of luxury could not produce. + +Lockman returned, looked at the reconciled friends, and burst into a +hideous laugh. “I suppose you now fancy yourselves happy, and that you +have gained peace of mind,” he said; “do not think it. Hussain is lost +for ever. Allah has turned his eyes from him for endeavouring to +shorten the days of his child and his own. He is mine for ever!” + +“None possesses that eternal power but Allah,” cried Hussain, who had +now recovered. “Having saved my life, you have, against your will, +assisted my salvation. As long as there is life there is hope; as long +as man lives he may become better.” + +“You have killed your daughter,” said Lockman; “you have spilled her +blood, you are an infanticide!” + +Hussain turned pale. + +“She lives,” cried a sweet voice from on high, “take courage and hope.” + +“Ah! is _she_ released from her sleep of death?” exclaimed Lockman in +consternation, and vanished. + +From this time Ibrahim and Hussain were faithful friends, they shared +their troubles, and found consolation in each other’s society. It was +no longer difficult to discover gold and precious stones in the desert; +they had only to go out and search, and immediately found what they +wished. During this time the sun was shaded, and a light breeze was +blowing; they at last discovered recesses in the rocks for shade, +flowers, and springs. When Lockman perceived this he took them into +the mines, where he forced them to laborious employment. But even here +their fortune attended them. They learned of themselves to cut the ore +which they easily found. In this familiar intercourse with quiet, +sublime nature, their hearts opened, their minds became elevated, and +their bodies strengthened. They no longer loved wealth and vanity, but +God, the wonderful works of nature, and each other. Lockman had no +further power to molest them. + +The only thing that still caused them exertion, and even bodily pain, +was a torn apron of thick, hard leather, such as miners wear, which +Lockman had given them to sew together. The needle often broke under +their bleeding fingers while sewing it. They shared their task freely, +each taking it when the other was tired. One evening, when it was +still far from being finished, Lockman ordered them, with violent +threats, to remain up all night to complete it by the next morning. +They exerted all their strength to accomplish this task, though they +hardly thought it possible, when Hussain, who was sewing, towards +morning, while Ibrahim was sleeping, unluckily thrust the awl so deep +into his hand that he screamed with pain, and in despair threw the hard +leather on the ground. Ibrahim awaking at this, sought his turban to +bind Hussain’s wound. Whilst looking at it he perceived that it was +his son’s, which he had mistaken for his own the last night they spent +together. As he now took off the cloth, the singular talisman which +Ali had concealed met his view. He looked long at it, and discovering +the many precious stones, said: “Our tyrant has a fancy for rare and +precious stones, and these are finer than I have ever seen, I will, +therefore, place this splendid jewel on his bed; he will rejoice on +awaking, and his stern mind will relent, perhaps, even though he may +not find the apron repaired.” With this intention he went into the +cavern where Lockman slept, and placed the talisman on the bare chest +of the sorcerer. He then hastened back, bound his friend’s wound, and +continued sewing as long as he was able. + +The sun was now high, but Lockman still slept, contrary to his custom. +Hussain crept in and found him in a profound slumber. Both friends +thanked Providence, which saved them from ill-treatment, and Ibrahim +said: “Perhaps he may sleep the whole day, and we shall gain time to +finish our task.” + +They now vied with each other, one sewing while the other rested or +fetched water and bread for refreshment, but the night came, and still +their work was unfinished. Thus they went on for three days and four +nights, their hands bleeding and swollen, their eyes dim with working, +but their courage unabated. Their mutual feelings of friendship and +sympathy and their honest exertion enabled them to accomplish their +work. A secret presentiment told them it was for the happiness of +their future life that they had to restore the hard, rigid, and torn +apron. + +When the fourth morning dawned, they put in the last stitch, and with +tears of joy, then embraced each other, exclaiming in rapture, while +they extended their hands towards heaven in gratitude: “It is +finished!” “It is finished!” they heard an harmonious voice repeating. +They raised their eyes, and behold, the damp, dark cavern where they +stood, was changed into a beautiful bright grotto. Before them stood +the lovely Peribanu, with her crown of stars and her emerald sceptre, +saying, with a friendly smile, “It is finished! Look what you have +joined again!” Hussain and Ibrahim looked at the apron they still +held, and behold! it was the splendid gold cloth which Ibrahim once in +anger had torn in the market-place, and with it Hussain’s friendship. + +“It had suffered great damage,” said Peribanu, “and it has cost you +labour and trouble to sew it together again; but it is restored. The +threads of early friendship are again united, the flowers of childhood, +which were torn up by the roots, are again planted in the golden ground +of your life.” + +Ibrahim recognised in her beautiful features the kindly woman who had +once come to him in the hour of midnight, to beg the gold cloth as a +bridal dress for her daughter. “You must really give it me for a +bridal dress for my daughter,” said Peribanu, “this very day I shall +celebrate her nuptials.” Ibrahim gave it her. Peribanu waved her +sceptre, a curtain was raised, and Ibrahim and Hussain saw their +children crowned with flowers, kneeling at an altar before the sacred +image of the Moon. + +“The beaming symbol of the prophet perpetually changes,” said Peribanu, +“bringing joy and sorrow according to the law of eternal fate. On you +it has now bestowed happiness. The life of Ali and Gulhyndi will be +like a fine spring morning, and the old age of Ibrahim and Hussain a +glorious September day.” + +When she had said this, she conducted the bridal pair to their parents, +who embraced them with delight, and gave them the paternal blessing. +“Your joy will no more be troubled by the snares of malice,” she said, +“for it is caught in its own trap.” She again waved her sceptre, the +rock burst, and they saw the young king with a crown of rubies on his +head, in a purple mantle, stretched out, pale as death, on a couch, +while the lamp of death was burning over his head. The expression of +cunning and malice was in his countenance even in his death-slumber. +“Sleep on for ever,” cried the fairy. “Levity will some day again +release me,” he said in a hollow voice, and the vault closed. “For +this cycle, at least, nothing is to be feared,” replied Peribanu. + +Hereupon the good fairy celebrated the nuptials of the young couple, +and beautiful Nature, with all her creatures, shared the festival. +They lived long and happily in the bosom of nature, like our first +parents in the beginning of creation, and gave to posterity lovely +children, who became the ancestors of a powerful race in the mountains. +Hussain and Ibrahim died at a great age, and their grandchildren +mourned over them. The good fairy never left Ali and Gulhyndi. + +C. A. F. + + +[1] Both in this and the following song a verse has been omitted, as +unsuitable to the general English reader. + + + + +ALAMONTADE. + +A TALE OF THE TIMES OF LOUIS XIV., BY HEINRICH ZSCHOKKE. + +A small village in Languedoc was my home and birth-place. I lost my +mother very early. My father, a poor farmer, could spend but little +for my education, although he was very saving; and yet he was far from +being the poorest in the village. He was obliged to give for taxes, +besides the tithe on his vineyards, olive plantations, and corn lands, +a fourth of what he earned with great trouble. Our daily food was +porridge, with black bread and turnips. + +My father sank under his troubles. This grieved him very sorely. +“Colas,” said he frequently to me, with troubled voice, laying his hand +upon my head, “hope forsakes me. I shall not, in spite of the sweat on +my brow, lay my head down in the coffin without leaving debts behind. +How shall I keep the promise which I made to your mother, with the last +kiss, on her death-bed? I solemnly promised her to send you to school +and make a clergyman of you. You will become a labourer and a servant +to strangers.” + +In such moments I comforted the good old man as well as I could. But +childish consolation only made him still more dejected. He became +worse, and felt the approach of his last days. He often looked at me +with concern and care for my future life; and the bitter tear of +hopelessness moistened his eyes. When I saw this I abandoned my +sports; I jumped up to him, for I could not bear to see him weeping; I +clung to his neck, kissed away the tears from his eyelashes, and +exclaimed, sobbing, “Oh! my father, pray do not weep!” + +What a happy people might inhabit that country where the fertile soil +yields two harvests yearly to the agriculturist, and olives and grapes +ripen in abundance by the warm rays of the sun! But an oppressed race +of men creeps over this blooming earth. They give the fruits of their +necessity and labour to the gormandising bishops, who promise them, for +the sufferings in this world, the everlasting joys of a future life; +they give their gain to the nobles and princes, who, in return, profess +themselves willing to govern the country with wisdom and goodness. One +banquet at court devours the annual produce of a whole province, wrung +from the lap of the earth with millions of groans, and millions of +drops of sweat. + +I had attained my eighteenth year when my father died. It was a serene +evening, and the sun near its setting. My father was sitting before +our cot in the shade of a chesnut tree, he wished once more to enjoy +the sight of a world that had become dear to him amidst all his +sorrows. When I returned home from the fields, I went up to him, and +found him already faint; he clasped me in his arms, and said, “Oh, my +son! I now feel happy. Mine eve is approaching; and I shall go to +rest. But I shall not forget thee. I shall stand before the Almighty +with thy mother; above yonder stars we will pray for thee. Think of +us, and be faithful to virtue even to death! We will pray for thee. +Thou art under the care of the Almighty, therefore weep not. For when +once thou shalt have ended thy day’s work thy evening hour will also +strike. Then thou wilt find us yonder, me and thy mother. Oh, Colas, +with what longing we shall await thee there! What a delight it will be +when the three blessed hearts of the parents and the child will again +palpitate against each other before the throne of God!” + +The last ray of the sun grew pale on the distant mountain tops; the +world was plunged in a gray twilight. The spirit of my father had +freed itself from the frail frame of its beloved body, which now lay in +my arms. + +Our faithful servant--whose name has escaped my memory--being directed, +by the last wish of my father, to take me to my uncle, on my mother’s +side, Etienne, held me by the hand when we were pacing through the dark +and narrow streets of the city of Nismes. I trembled. An involuntary +shudder seized upon my mind. “You are trembling, Colas,” said the +servant; “you look pale and anxious; are you not well?” + +“Alas!” exclaimed I, “do not bring me to this dark, stony labyrinth. I +am as terrified as if I were going to die here. Let me be a common +labourer in my verdant native village. Look only at these walls, they +stand here like those of a dungeon; and those men look as confused and +troubled as though they were criminals.” + +“Your uncle, the miller,” replied he, “does not live in this city; his +house stands outside the Carmelite-gate in the open green fields.” + +Men are apt to believe that the soul possesses a secret faculty for +anticipating its future fate. When I became a fellow-sufferer in that +horrible misfortune, the history of which has filled with shuddering +every sensible heart of the civilised world, I remembered the first +apprehensive anxiety which I felt in the streets of the gloomy Nismes, +on entering the city, and which I then took for an omen. Even the most +enlightened man cannot entirely divest himself of a superstitious fear +when his despairing hope gropes about in vain for help in darkness. + +The impression that Nismes had made upon me remained permanent within +me. This was natural. Accustomed to live in and with nature, solitary +and simple, the stirring crowd of the busy town had a terrifying effect +upon me. My mother had rocked me under the branches of the olive +trees, and my childhood I had dreamed away in the green, cheerful shade +of chesnut groves. How could I bear living within the narrow, damp, +walls, where only the thirst for money brings men together? In +solitude the passions die away, and the heart assumes the tranquillity +of rural nature. The first sight, therefore, of so many faces, in +which anger and care, pride and avarice, debauchery and envy, had left +behind their traces, and which were no more perceived by him who saw +them daily, made me tremble. + +Outside the Carmelite-gate was the house of my uncle, and by the side +of it his mill. The servant pointed with his hand to the fine +building, and said, “M. Etienne is a wealthy man, but alas--” + +“And what then--alas?” + +“A Calvinist, as people say.” + +I did not understand him. We entered the beautiful building, and my +anxiety vanished. A tranquil, kind spirit spoke to me, as it were, +from every thing I beheld, and I felt as happy as if I were in my +native place. + +In a neat room, marked by simplicity and order, the mother was sitting +at the table, surrounded by three blooming daughters, busy with +domestic work. A boy of two years’ old sat playing in his mother’s +lap. Kindness and tranquillity were on every countenance. All were +silent, and directed their looks to me. My uncle stood at the window +and was reading. His locks were already gray, but a youthful serenity +beamed from his looks. His air was that of piety. The servant said to +him, “This is your nephew, Colas, M. Etienne. His father, your +brother-in-law, died in poverty. He ordered me, therefore, to bring +his son to you, that you might be a father to him.” + +“My welcome and blessing to you, Colas!” said M. Etienne, laying his +hand upon my head; “I will be your father.” + +Then arose Mdme. Etienne, who offered me her hand, and said, “I will be +your mother.” + +My heart was much moved by this kindness. I wept, and kissed the hands +of my new parents, without being able to utter a word. Now their three +daughters surrounded me, and said, “Do not weep, Colas, we will be your +sisters.” From this hour I was as much accustomed to my new home as if +I had never been a stranger to it. I fancied myself living in a family +of quiet angels, of whom my father had often told me. I became as +pious as they all were, and yet I never could surpass them in piety. + +I was sent to school. After the lapse of half-a-year, M. Etienne told +me one day, with a very kind look, “Colas, you are poor, but God has +blessed you with superior talents; your masters praise your industry, +and say how wonderfully you surpass all your fellow-scholars in +learning. I therefore have come to the resolution that you shall +devote yourself to study. When you have completed your term at Nismes, +I will send you to the academy of Montpellier. You shall study the +law, which will enable you to become a defender of our oppressed +church. I behold in you an instrument of God for our salvation, and +for the protection of the Protestant faith against the cruelty and +violence of the Papists.” + +M. Etienne was secretly a Protestant, as also were several thousands in +Nismes, and in the places surrounding it. He initiated me into the +doctrines of his faith. The Protestants were laborious, quiet, and +benevolent citizens; but the hatred of the people and the fury of the +priests persecuted these unfortunate individuals even to the interior +of their homes. They lived in continual fear; yet this kept up the +ardour of piety more alive in the hearts of all. By compulsion, and +for the sake of appearance, we frequented the churches of the +Catholics, celebrated their holy days, and kept the images of their +saints in our rooms. But neither this compliance, nor the practical +piety of the persecuted, could appease the hatred of the persecutors. + +Wavering between two different persuasions, to one of which I belonged +publicly, to the other secretly, a daily witness of the bitter quarrels +of both parties; and how much more pride, hatred, and selfishness, than +conviction and piety, flocked to the standards of the belligerent +churches, I became, without knowing it, a hypocrite and a disbeliever +to both. The grounds upon which each attacked the contested doctrinal +points of the other, were better weighed, more subtle and effective +than those upon which, the value of that, which was thus attacked, was +defended. This raised within me a distrust against all tenets; only +those that never had been attacked retained a lasting sway in my eyes. +Yet I concealed my inward thoughts from all, that I might not be an +abomination to all. + +Thus my mind isolated itself early. God and His creation were, in my +leisure hours, the objects of my contemplation. I had a horror for the +frensy of men, with which they persecuted one another on account of a +changing opinion, a tract of country, or a title of princes. Early I +felt the hardness of my fate in living among beings who, in every +thing, judged differently from myself. I saw myself surrounded by +barbarians or half-savages, not yet much more humanised than those, at +whose sacrifices of men we are struck with horror. If the ancient +Celts, or the Brahmins, or the savages of the wilds of America butcher +human beings at the altars of their gods, were they in this more +monstrous than the modern Europeans, who, at the altars of their gods +(since opinions are the gods of mortals) butcher, in their pious zeal, +thousands of their brethren? I lamented over the atrocities of the age +I lived in, and saw no means that could remove the general ferocity of +nations. The animal nature of man is everywhere the prevailing one. +Food, concupiscence, and greediness for power are, as in every species +of animals, the most powerful provocatives to activity; they are the +sources of harmony as well as of discord, of the rise and fall of +nations. Disinterested virtue, eternal right, and incontrovertible +truth, are more felt than recognised and encouraged. Their names are +proclaimed in the schools, while their essence does not, at all times, +pervade the teachers themselves. And whoever should, with a pious +zeal, profess them, would soon become the laughing-stock of those +surrounding him, and the victim of the general frensy. + +The present time was too gloomy for me, I longed for things nobler and +more perfect. In the period of a blooming imagination, I could not but +create a more beautiful world, in which virtue, justice, and truth, +embraced each other, and where the senses diffused the tenderest +feelings. I turned poet, and lamented the fall of Rome and Greece, +which gave hopes of a more delightful existence of mankind, and +bitterly disappointed their expectations. + +The ruins of the vast amphitheatre at Nismes, that ancient splendid +monument of Roman greatness, became my favourite haunt. When walking +through the lofty arcades between the gray pillasters, or looking down +over the magnificent ruins from the Attica, I felt as if the spirit of +that majestic antiquity embraced me, and, lamenting, pressed me to its +breast. + +Here I lingered with pleasure, but never without a feeling of sadness. +The remains of long-departed human generations became to me books of +history. The hands of several nations have been patching up this work +of Roman magnificence. The two half-decayed towers of the Attica, +solitary masses of stone piled up without taste and sense of art, were +reared by the Goths, the conquerors of the Romans. And the huts of +wood in the arena beneath, are the dwellings of poor labourers and +workmen of modern days. What a change of times, and of the men that +lived in them! + +The shriek of a female under the vaults startled me one evening out of +my dreams. Darkness had already crept into the halls. I hastened down +the steps from the second story, and perceived a well-dressed woman in +the power of a common man. The sound of my steps frightened the +villain, and he disappeared among the columns. A young girl with +dishevelled hair sat on a block of marble, trembling, and almost beside +herself with fright. + +“Have you sustained any harm?” I asked her. + +She raised her hand to her head, and said: “It was a robber, sir, who +had torn off my head-dress, consisting of some pins of value;--nothing +further. I entreat you to afford me your protection, as I am a +stranger in this place. It was from curiosity I left my mother and +sister who are waiting without. This man was to guide me back from +this extensive labyrinth, and he led me to this remote spot.” + +I offered her my arm; we stepped out to the daylight. Oh! my +Clementine! .... + +She was sixteen years of age, delicately and beautifully formed. She +floats at my side, like an aërial being; I did not perceive her steps. +The sweetness, freshness, and intellectual expression of her +countenance were angelic, and her look, full of innocence and love, +penetrated my inmost soul. + +I sank into a pleasant confusion. I had never before known such a +sensation of confidence and admiration, of inexpressible affection and +profound respect. I had grown up to the age of twenty-one, I knew love +only from the pictures of the ancient poets, and I called it a +passionate friendship, unworthy a man. Alas! it was, indeed, something +very different. Love is the poetry of human nature. The sensation we +experience in contemplating beauty, ennobles rude sensuality, and +elevates it to a point of contact with the spiritual, so that the +virtuous, independent spirit unites itself, under the magic influence +of grace, with the earthly. Thus it is true that love deifies the +mortal clay, and draws down upon earth what is heavenly. + +Thus I went on, and I had lost all my recollection, till we arrived at +the Carmelite-gate, where, suddenly, I came to myself again. + +“You are a stranger?” I asked, in a faltering voice. + +“Yes,” she replied; “but it is in vain that we seek my mother and +sister. Do you know the house of M. Albertas? It is there we live.” + +“I will bring you to it.” + +We turned round towards the street where M. Albertas resided. What a +change! The narrow dark streets seemed no longer to me like damp +dungeon walls, but like splendid clouds through which men were passing +like shadows. + +We did not speak. We came to the house. The door was joyfully opened. +The whole family pressed forward to welcome the beloved lost child, for +whom servants had been sent out, who were still in search of her. It +was then that I heard, amidst a thousand caresses towards her, the +name, “Clementine.” She thanked me in a few words, not without +blushing. All the rest did the same; but I was unable to reply. They +asked my name; I told it them, bowed, and left the company. + +I was often afterwards in the amphitheatre, and my way led me +frequently through the street in which M. Albertas lived. Her I did +not see again; but her image was constantly hovering before me, in my +waking hours as well as in my dreams. The hope of beholding the +beautiful vision again forsook me; but not so my longing after her. + +Now, for the first time, I felt that I stood alone in the world, and +that I could not cling to a being akin to myself. I was without a +mother and father, without a sister or brother. Beloved by the family +of my uncle, I still looked upon myself amidst them, only as a +fortunate orphan; and upon all who loaded me with their kindness, I +looked as upon beings elevated above myself. + +The time approached when I was to be sent to the academy of +Montpellier. M. Etienne repeated to me his wishes, and conjured me not +to disappoint his expectations. In the excess of his confidence in my +youthful faculties, he saw in me the future protecting angel of the +Protestant church in France. He gave me his blessing, whilst the whole +family stood weeping round me as I took my farewell. I promised to +come to Nismes in all my vacations, and went away overpowered with +grief. + +The distance from Montpellier to Nismes is full eight leagues. I +walked in the shade of mulberry-trees, between the golden fields of +corn, and along the vineyards on the chain of hills, overtopped by the +gray Sevennes. But the air was glowing, and the ground beneath my feet +burning. After three hours’ walk, I sank fatigued on the banks of the +Vidourle, in the shade of a neat villa and its chesnut trees. + +I reflected on my past and future life. I computed the time I had +lived, and the space of time still remaining, according to the general +measure, for my sphere of action. I found I had still forty years, +and, for the first time, I shuddered at the shortness of our life. The +oak on the mountains wants one century for its development, and stands +for another in its full vigour, while man’s existence is so transitory! +And wherefore is it thus? How shall he employ his faculties? Not a +long life, but a life of variety, is given to mortal man by nature. +This thought quiets me. Well, then, I said to myself, forty years +more, and I shall stand perfected where my father is. + +Pursuing these thoughts, I gradually fell into a slumber. In my dream +I imagined myself an old man; my limbs were heavy, my hair gray; the +thousand fine pores of the skin, by which the body imperceptibly +imbibes vitality, and is nourished by the elements, were dried up. +With the decreasing influx of life, the power of the muscles relaxed, +the delicate parts, which we call organs, gradually hardened and +closed. I heard no more of the world, and the light of my eyes was +also extinguished. While the senses, by which the spirit is rooted to +the earth were thus dying away, the feelings became weaker, the ideas +fainter, and all that was formerly communicated to the mind by the +active senses was lost. I was no longer master of my body, and had +forgotten the names of things and their use. Men fed me, dressed and +undressed me, and treated me as a child. I was still able to speak, +but often wanted words, and sometimes uttered phrases which no one +understood; thoughts still presented themselves, and I felt, though +without regret, that I no more belonged to the earth. Soon, however, I +was not able to give utterance to my thoughts; but had only an +unvarying, torpid consciousness of existence, such as we feel while +sleeping, when not even dreams present themselves. This state, always +the same, without any external change, was unaccompanied by pleasure or +pain; there was no variety of thought, therefore no succession or +notion of time. In short, I had been dead for a long period, and my +body had been buried and mouldering for centuries. Only on earth, +during the existence of the senses, where we count the change of +things, we can speak of ages, and the succession of events suggests to +us the notion of time. Abstracting from all idea of change, time no +longer exists. + +A pleasing, indefinable sensation produced a change in me; my mind, +before isolated, was connected with new organs which opened to me a +larger sphere of action in the universe. + +I began to feel more and more conscious, I heard a gentle rustling +around me, which invigorated me with its delightful freshness. Before +me floated dazzling golden rays, whilst silvery clouds sportively +passed along. I cast my wandering gaze on the bright transparent +verdure of the surrounding boughs, which waved in the crystal ether +like aërial forms, and between the boughs and the clouds shone +Clementine, motionless, in ineffable beauty, a wreath of fresh flowers +entwining her dark hair. + +She smiled on me with an expression of innocent love; took the wreath +from her hair, waved it with her delicate hand, and it dropped on my +breast. + +“Oh! heavenly dream never depart from me,” I said, while gazing with +inexpressible rapture on the beautiful vision. + +While I was in this state a carriage rolled past. Clementine’s +countenance darkened on hearing her name called. + +“Farewell, Alamontade,” said she, and disappeared amidst the trembling +boughs. + +At that moment I was going to fall at her feet but found myself on the +ground. I was no longer in a dream, for I perceived the Vidourle and +the château in the shade of the lofty chesnut trees. + +I rose and heard a carriage rattling over the bridge, and as I hastened +along, an old servant approached, and asked whether I wished any +refreshment. On my evincing astonishment, he asked, “Are you not M. +Alamontade?” I answered in the affirmative. Then he said, +“Mademoiselle de Sonnes and her mother have left me orders to that +effect!” I went back, took up the wreath and followed the servant. +Clementine was Mademoiselle de Sonnes. + +That day was the happiest and most memorable of my life. + +A garret in the back part of the house of M. Bertollon, one of the +richest and most fortunate citizens of Montpellier was my dwelling. +Some roofs, black walls, and two windows, with the balconies of a house +in the opposite street were my only prospect; still I was happy. +Surrounded by books, I lived only to study, and Clementine’s wreath +hung over my table. The millions of spring blossoms lost their +splendour before the magic of these withered flowers, and the jewels of +kings were valueless to me in comparison with the smallest leaf of the +clover. + +Clementine was my saint, and I loved her with a pious veneration, such +as we feel for angelic beings. Her wreath was a relic, which an angel +had let fall on me from heaven. In my dreams I saw her surrounded by +glory, and she was the subject of my poetic effusions. I looked most +anxiously for the vacations of the college to see my uncle and Nismes, +and perhaps, by some happy chance, my adored saint. + +One day the door of my solitary room opened, and a handsome young man +entered. It was M. Bertollon. “You have a gloomy prospect,” he said, +as he stepped to the window, “still it extends to part of the house of +M. de Sonnes, one of the most tasteful in the town,” he added, smiling. + +At that name I became agitated. M. Bertollon stood thoughtfully at the +window and appeared melancholy. We resumed the conversation, and he +asked my name and the nature of my studies. Having mentioned my +fondness for the harp, he said: “Do you play the harp and love it +passionately without possessing one?” + +“I am too poor, sir, to purchase one, for the little money I have is +scarcely sufficient to procure the books that I need most.” + +“My wife has two harps and can well spare one,” he replied, and left me. + +Before an hour elapsed the harp was sent. How happy was I! I now +thought of Clementine, and struck the chords. Sentiments are +speechless; words have been invented to express thoughts, and melodious +tones to express the feelings of the heart. + +On the following morning the amiable Bertollon came again, and I +thanked him with emotion. He asked me to play, and I complied with his +request, still thinking of Clementine. He was leaning with his +forehead against the window, and gazed sadly on the opposite roofs. My +soul was enrapt in the fulness of harmony, and I did not perceive that +he had turned and stood listening near me. + +“You are a delightful magician,” he said, and embraced me with warmth; +“we must become friends.” + +I was his friend already, and in the space of a few weeks our intimacy +increased. During our short excursions, when the weather was fine, he +gradually introduced me to a numerous acquaintance, who treated me +uniformly with esteem and attention, and Bertollon seemed only happy in +my society. In possession of a considerable library, and a museum of +natural history, he entrusted me with their superintendence, and +appeared to have chosen this as a way of assisting my slender means, by +a considerable annual income, without hurting my feelings. + +Bertollon was in more than one respect a distinguished man. His +acquirements were various; he possessed wit and eloquence; he +captivated by his gracefulness and dignity; in company he was the +spirit of joy, and his sole aim was to gain the esteem of his +fellow-citizens. He had already refused several public appointments +with a modesty which made him still more worthy of general confidence. +He was wealthy, the partner in a large commercial house, was possessed +of one of the most delightful châteaux on the height of the +neighbouring village of Castelnau, and was the husband of the most +beautiful woman of Montpellier. His wife usually lived at the château, +where Bertollon saw her but seldom, but in winter she resided in town. +Their alliance seemed to have been formed not from love, but +convenience and interest. + +What made this man still more remarkable to me was his freedom from all +prejudice, in a town which seemed entirely animated by religious +fanaticism, and where he only was an exception. Notwithstanding this +he went frequently to mass, and was himself a member of the fraternity +of the Penitents. “It is so easy,” he used to say, “to reconcile men; +we need but pay homage to their prejudices if we cannot combat and +conquer them, and are sure to gain all hearts. He who wages open war +against prejudices is as much a fanatic as he who defends them with +arms.” + +We nevertheless were often involved in friendly disputes. He +considered happiness the grand end of man, and recognised no bounds in +the choice of means to that end; he derided my ardent zeal for virtue, +called it a work of social order, and proved to me that it assumed +different colours among different nations. His wit sometimes made me +appear ridiculous to myself, by following my cardinal virtues to +different nations, where he always confounded them. But +notwithstanding the danger of these principles, Bertollon was dear to +me, for he always did what was right. + +While I thus devoted my time to friendship and the muses, the two +windows and the balcony of the house of De Sonnes were not forgotten. +M. Bertollon had more than once offered to exchange my garret for a +room in his house, which was furnished in costly style, and commanded +an extensive and cheerful prospect. But I would not have exchanged my +poor garret for his best drawing-room, or for the prospect of the +paradise of Languedoc. + +By chance--for a singular shyness prevented me from making inquiries--I +learned that the family De Sonnes would, in a few weeks, return to +Nismes, and that they were in great grief for Clementine’s sister, who +had died lately. + +The few weeks, and, indeed, the quarter passed. As often as I played +the harp, my eye was fixed on those beloved walls, but the family De +Sonnes did not return, and no chance brought me further intelligence. +I was silent, and concealed my love from the world. + +The vacation arrived; I hastened to Nismes in hopes of being happier +there. As I passed the château on the Vidourle I stopped. All was +closed, though the fields and vineyards were thronged with reapers and +grape-gatherers. I looked for the magic spot under the chesnut trees, +where dream and reality were once so magically blended. I threw myself +under the waving branches, and on the spot which Clementine’s foot had +once hallowed by its touch. Love and sadness weighed me down, and I +kissed the sacred ground which had then borne all that the world +contained most dear to me. + +In vain, alas! I looked for the angelic vision. I left the delightful +spot when evening approached, and only the rocky summits of the +Sevennes reflected the sun’s golden rays over the dusky plain. + +My uncle Etienne and the pious mother, with my cousins, Maria, Antonia, +and Susanna, received me with affecting joy. I embraced them all +speechlessly and rapturously, and knew not who expressed the greatest +affection for me, or whom I most loved. I was the son and brother of +the family; I felt at home, and was the joy of them all. + +“Yes,” said my uncle, with emotion, “you are the joy of us all, and the +hope of our church. All the reports from Montpellier have praised your +industry, and have expressed the esteem your teachers entertain for +you. Continue, Colas, to strengthen yourself, for our sufferings are +great, and the affliction of the true believers knows no end. God +calls you to become his chosen instrument to break the power of +Antichrist, and to raise triumphantly the gospel now trodden in the +dust.” + +The fears of my uncle had been particularly increased of late by the +harsh expressions of the governor of the province against the secret +Protestants. The Mareschale de Montreval resided in Nismes, and was +the more powerful and formidable as he possessed the unbounded +confidence of the king. His threats against the Calvinists spread from +mouth to mouth, and were the common talk even of the boys in the street. + +I was harassed by another care. In vain had I wandered daily up and +down the street in which the house of M. Albertas was situated; in vain +had I loitered in the amphitheatre; Clementine was nowhere to be seen. + +One morning I met the old servant who had entertained me, by the orders +of Madame de Sonnes, in the château. He recognised me joyfully, shook +me by the hand, and told me, among a thousand other things, that Madame +de Sonnes and her daughter had left Nismes for some months, but had +gone to Marseilles to seek relief from their sorrow for the loss of a +beloved daughter and sister, in the amusements of that great commercial +city. + +My hopes of seeing Clementine once more being thus disappointed, I +walked sadly home. All the joyful expectations which had supported me +for the last six months were frustrated. I determined to go to +Marseilles, which was only three days’ journey, there to search every +street and window, attend every church and mass, to discover her, if +only for a moment;--would she not, for so much trouble, give me one +kind look? + +But, on cooler reflection, I soon abandoned my wild scheme, and +returned home more dejected than ever. + +With surprise, I there perceived an unusual embarrassment and trouble +in every countenance. + +My aunt came towards me, put her hands on my shoulders, and kissed me +with an air of deep melancholy; my cousins kindly seized my hand, as if +wishing to comfort me. + +“What is it, after all?” asked my uncle, with a powerful voice; who, +notwithstanding his air of piety, had something heroic in his +character; “you know that a good Christian is most cheerful when the +waves of misfortune are lashed most tempestuously. The devil has no +power over us, and providence has numbered every hair of our heads. +The mareschale is not beyond the power of the Almighty.” + +I expressed my surprise at this. “You are right, Colas,” said my +uncle, “and I am grieved at the despair of the women. The Mareschale +de Montreval sent orders here an hour ago for you to go to the castle +to-morrow morning, at ten o’clock;--that is all. And where then is +there cause for alarm? If you have a good conscience, go to him +without fear, though his castle be hell itself.” + +No wonder that the peremptory order, coming from so exalted a +personage, terrified the humble miller’s family. The mareschale seldom +showed himself to the people, and then only when attended by a numerous +suite of high officers, noblemen, and guards. The external pomp of the +great, exercises greater awe on the minds of the uneducated multitude +than their power. + +Next morning, my aunt arranged my wardrobe with trembling hands, and I +endeavoured to comfort my dear afflicted relatives. “It is ten +o’clock,” cried my uncle, “go in God’s name, we will pray for you.” + +I went, and learned that the mareschale was still in his cabinet. +After an hour and a half I was conducted through a suite of rooms to +him. An elderly gentleman, rather thin, and of a stiff commanding +manner, of dark complexion and piercing eyes, stepped towards me, while +the respect of those around marked him as the mareschale. + +“I wished to see you, Alamontade,” said he, “as you have been +distinguished by so much praise on the university list of Montpellier. +Cultivate your talents, and you may become a useful man. You shall +have my patronage for the future. Let not my encouragement make you +proud, but more industrious, and I shall not fail to learn how you +proceed. Do all in your power to retain the friendship of M. +Bertollon, your patron, and tell him that I sent for you.” + +This was all the mareschale said. He evinced satisfaction with me +during this short interview. I commended myself to his favour and +hastened to comfort my family, who were most anxious about me. + +Their joy at my return was great, and soon all our neighbours, indeed +the whole town had heard the great honour I had received from the +mareschale. “Did I not say before that it is God who governs the +hearts of the powerful?” exclaimed my uncle; “The sun rises out of +darkness, and the holy cross rears itself to heaven over the bruised +serpent and painful thorns.” + +On arriving at Montpellier, I found M. Bertollon had gone to his wife +in the country. With melancholy feelings I stood in my garret before +the withered wreath, and sighed forth the name of Clementine, while I +kissed the faded leaves which had once bloomed in her delicate hand. I +felt half ashamed of the tears with which disappointed hope suffused my +eyes, and yet I felt happy. + +The wreath and the small part of the magnificent house, De Sonnes, were +to become again, during winter, the mute witnesses of my love, joys, +and hopes. Spring and its blossoms (I said as I looked towards the +palace) will bring her, perhaps, to Montpellier. + +At this moment I saw, at the opposite window, a female form attired in +deep mourning, and with her back turned towards me. My pulse ceased to +beat, my breath stopped, and my eyes became dim. “It can only be +Clementine,” said a voice within me; but I had sunk down senseless on +the window, having neither the courage nor the power to look up and +convince myself. + +When I had recovered, I raised myself, and cast a trembling look +towards her. Her face was turned towards me, covered with a black +veil, with which the breezes sported; it was raised--I saw Clementine, +and that at a moment when I had engaged her attention. I cast down my +eyes, and felt a burning glow through my veins. When I again raised +them, she was gone from the window, but not from my mind. “It is she,” +said a voice within me, and I stood on the pinnacle of earthly bliss, +solitary, but having before me Clementine’s image, and inspiring +anticipations for the future. A golden gleam was poured over the smoky +walls, and a sea of flowers waved over the naked roofs; the world +dissolved before me like a splendid cloud, Clementine’s form passed +through a lovely eternity, while I was beside her, and my lot was +endless rapture. “Oh, of what bliss is the human heart susceptible!” I +exclaimed, falling on my knees, and raising my hands to heaven. “Oh +God! for what scenes hast thou spared me! Oh! perpetuate this feeling!” + +Late that evening, I saw the windows lighted, and her shadow passing to +and fro; I took my harp, and with its sounds, my feelings gradually +became calm. + +I did not awake till late the next morning, having passed a sleepless +night. When I stepped to the window I saw Clementine leaning from hers +in her morning dress. I saluted her, and received a scarcely +perceptible return; but she looked kindly. I was riveted to the spot +while she remained, our glances met timidly; but my soul conversed with +her, and I seemed to receive soft answers. + +Oh! blessed hours which I dreamed away harmlessly in the secret +contemplation of a lovely being. With my poor and humble parentage, +and without claim, as I was, to personal attractions, how could I raise +my hopes to the most lovely, richest heiress of Montpellier, whose +favour was courted by the noblest youths of the country? + +How much do my thoughts love to dwell on the recollection of those +days! Friendship and love belong only to mortal man; he shares them +neither with angels nor the animal creation; they are the offspring of +the union of the earthly and divine nature within us: they constitute +the privilege of man. In their possession we are more pious, more +believing, more indulgent, and more at home in the universe; we have +more confidence, and endure the thorns by the way. Nay, even the +wilderness appears more splendid in the glow of a calm, bright fancy. + +In the evening I again took the harp, struck the chords, and played the +sufferings of Count Peter of Provençe and his beloved Magellone, then +one of the newest and most affecting ballads, and full of expressive +melody. When I had finished the first stanza, and rested a minute, I +heard the sound of a harp, softly repeating the same air in the +stillness of the night. Who could it be but Clementine, who wished to +become the echo of my sentiments? When she had finished I began again; +thus we responded to each other. Music is the language of the soul. +What an ineffable delight to my heart, Clementine thought me worthy of +this converse! + +Alas! I must pass over in silence a thousand nameless trifles which +receive their inestimable value only from the sense by which they are +given and received; but they cannot be forgotten. The corse of the +dream of my happy youth, I mean recollection, is also still delightful, +though its life has passed away. + +My dream lasted thus for two years. During that time we saw each other +in silence, but still loving, and we conversed only by means of the +chords of the harp, without ever approaching nearer. I knew the church +where she prayed; I also went and prayed too. I knew the days when +she, in the company of her mother and friends, promenaded amid the +shady trees of the Peyrou;[1] there I went also. Her look showed that +she recognised me, and timidly rewarded me. + +Without having spoken to each other during this long space of time, we +had by degrees become the most intimate confidants; we reciprocated our +joys and sorrows; we entreated and granted, hoped and feared, and made +vows that were never broken. + +No one suspected the intercourse of our souls, our sweet and innocent +familiarity. Only M. Bertollon’s kindness threatened more than once to +rob me of my joys, as he insisted on my occupying a better room, and it +was with difficulty I retained possession of my garret. + +When Madame Bertollon had returned from her country house her husband +introduced me to her. “Here,” said he, “is Alamontade, a young man +whom I love as a friend, and to whom I wish nothing better than that he +may become yours also.” + +What I had heard of her was not exaggerated. She seemed scarcely +twenty years old, was very beautiful, and might have served an artist +as an idea for a Madonna. A pleasing timidity rendered her the more +attractive, especially as most of her sex and rank in Montpellier knew +less of that reserve, without which grace itself loses all its charms. + +She spoke little, but well; she appeared cold, but the vivacity and +brightness of her eye betrayed a sensitive heart and active mind. She +was the benefactress of the poor, and honoured by the whole city. +Neglected by her husband, and adored by young and attractive men of the +first families, she allowed not calumny itself to throw a shade over +the purity of her character. She lived as retired as in a convent. I +saw her but seldom, and only during my last year at the university, +when the illness of her husband afforded me an opportunity of meeting +in his apartment. + +The tenderest anxiety for the health of M. Bertollon was visible in all +her features. She was incessantly with him, administering his +medicine, or reading to him; and, when the illness reached its crisis, +she never quitted his bedside, but even destroyed her own health by her +continual nightly watching. + +When M. Bertollon recovered, he continued his cold and polite behaviour +towards her, and never returned her affection. This indifference she +seemed to feel deeply, and by degrees became estranged from him as his +health returned. I could only pity her, and reproach my friend. + +“But what do you demand of me, Colas?” he said one day. “Are you +master of your own heart, that you can ask obedience from mine? I +grant you my wife is beautiful; but mere beauty is only a pleasing +gloss, under which the heart remains cold. Why do we not fall in love +with the _chefs-d’oeuvre_ of the sculptor? I grant you she has +understanding; this, however, we do not love, but at most admire. She +is charitable; but she has money enough, and takes no pleasure in +expensive amusements. She showed me much attention during my illness; +for that I am grateful to her. She shall not want any thing that she +wishes, and I can give; but the heart cannot be given, that must be +taken. As to the rest, my friend, you do not know her. She also has +her failings; nay, if you will allow so much, her faults. If it should +unfortunately happen, now, that some of these faults are of such a +nature as necessarily to extinguish every rising feeling of affection +in me, am I to blame, that I cannot change stone into gold, and +transform a marriage of convenience into one of the heart?” + +“But, dear Bertollon, I never even discovered the slightest trace of +such a repulsive fault.” + +“That is because you do not know my wife. To you, as my friend, I may +reveal what has estranged me from her for ever, even during the very +first days of our marriage. It is her untameable and unreasonable +temper, which is as an all-consuming fire. Trust not the ice and snow +of the external veil; a volcano is burning within it which, from time +to time, must emit its flames, or it would burst its outward covering. +She is quiet, but the more dangerous; every feeling is fermenting long +within her before it manifests itself; but when it has done so, it is +the more lasting and destructive. She seems to be virtue and +gentleness personified; without her unhappy temper she might be a +saint, but that destroys all better feelings. I have often surprised +her in designs so atrocious and terrible, that it is difficult to +conceive how one of them could find its way into the soul of a woman, +or how she could harbour it. Such a character, my friend, is not +likely to conquer one’s heart.” + +These confidential communications startled me the more, as I had proofs +of Bertollon’s knowledge of men, and his correct judgments. In the +meanwhile, I did not discontinue my visits to Madame Bertollon, and +thought I perceived that she found pleasure in my society. She was +always tranquil, gentle, and seemed suffering. So much beauty and +gentleness changed my respect into sincere friendship. I formed the +resolution of reconciling her to her husband, let it cost what it +would; or, rather, of bringing him back to her arms. + +The habit of daily intercourse removed, by degrees, the constraint of +etiquette, and made her society absolutely necessary to me. Once when +I was walking with her in the garden, and she leaned on my arm, she +said: “You are Bertollon’s most intimate friend and confidant. I +consider you mine also, and your character gives me a claim on your +kindness. Speak openly, Alamontade, for you know the reason--why does +Bertollon hate me?” + +“He does not hate you, madame, he entertains the highest esteem for +you. Hate? he must be a monster if he can do that. No! he is a noble +man, he cannot hate any body.” + +“You are right: he can hate no one, because he loves no one. He does +not consider himself born for the world, nor for any one; but that the +whole world, and every one in it, is made for him. Education, perhaps, +never poisoned a more feeling heart and a sounder head than his.” + +“You judge, perhaps, too harshly, madame.” + +“Would to Heaven I did! Pray convince me of the contrary.” + +“I convince you? Not so, madame; observe your husband, and you will +change your mind.” + +“Observe him? I always did so, and always found him the same.” + +“He is a kind, amiable man, at least.” + +“Amiable! he is so, he knows it, and takes pains to be so; but, +unfortunately, not to make others happy--only himself. For this I +cannot call him good, although I cannot call him bad.” + +“Surely, madame, I do not understand you; permit me, however, to return +confidence for confidence. I never knew two human beings who so much +deserved to be happy, and were so calculated to render each other so, +as you and your husband, and yet you are estranged from each other. I +shall certainly believe I have lived long enough, and have accomplished +enough, if I can unite you more affectionately to each other, and +attach your now divided hearts.” + +“You are very kind; but though half your wish is already +accomplished--for my heart has long been pursuing his, which flies from +me--I fear that you attempt an impossibility. However, if any one +could succeed in this, you are that one. You, Alamontade, are the +first to whom Bertollon has quite attached himself,--to whom he firmly +clings. Try it; change the disposition of the man.” + +“You are joking; I change him? What other virtue do you wish Bertollon +to practise? He is generous, modest, the protector of innocence, of an +unvarying temper, without predominant passions, disinterested, kind.” + +“You are right, he is all that.” + +“And how shall I change him?” + +“Make him a better man.” + +“A better man?” replied I, astonished, stopping and looking with +embarrassment into the eyes of this beautiful woman, which were filled +with tears. “Is he, then, bad? Is he vicious?” + +“That he is not,” she said; “but he is not good.” + +“And yet, madame, you allow that he possesses all the noble qualities +for which I just now praised him? Do you not, perhaps, demand too much +from a mortal?” + +“I do not deny that he possesses what you have praised in him, +Alamontade; but he does not use those qualities as virtues, only as +instruments. He does much good, not because it is good, but because it +is advantageous to him. He is not virtuous, but prudent. In every +action he only looks at the useful and injurious, never at the good and +evil. He would as soon employ hell for accomplishing his designs as +heaven. His happiness consists in the attainment of his desires, and +for this he is and does what suits his purpose under any given +circumstances. The world is to him the field of desire, wherein all +belongs to the most fortunate and cunning. The throng of men living +together created, in his opinion, states and laws, religions and +usages. The wisest man in his eyes is he who knows the entangled +tissue of circumstances to its finest threads; and he who knows that +can do any thing. Nothing is in itself right or wrong; opinion alone +sanctions and condemns. This, Alamontade, is a picture of my husband. +He cannot love me, for he only loves himself. His mind and taste +change, and with them his nature. With iron perseverance he pursues +and attains his ends. The son of a much respected family, which had +been reduced in circumstances, he wished to be rich, so he became a +merchant, went to distant lands and returned the possessor of a +million. He then wished to secure his wealth by uniting himself with +one of the most respectable families of this city, and I became his +wife. Desirous to possess influence in public affairs, without +exciting envy, he made himself popular, and refused the most honourable +posts of office. In his opinion nothing is unattainable; he considers +nothing sacred; he conquers every obstacle; no one is too strong for +him, because all are weak by some propensity, passion, and opinion.” + +This picture of Bertollon’s character staggered me. I found it +corresponding to the original in every particular. I had never formed +a clear idea of all this, although I had felt it. I discovered the +enormous chasm that separated their hearts, and despaired of ever being +able to fill it up. + +“But, madame,” said I, pressing her hand with emotion, “do not despair; +your persevering affection and virtue will finally triumph over him.” + +“Virtue! Oh, my dear Alamontade, what can be expected from a man who +calls it a weakness, or one-sidedness of character, or prudery of mind? +From one who considers religion only as the toy of church and +education,--the toy with which the fancy of the shortsighted plays with +childish zeal?” + +“But still he possesses a heart.” + +“He has a heart, but only for himself--not for others. He wishes to be +loved without any sacrifice of feeling on his part. Alas! can one love +such a man? No, Alamontade, love demands something more; it gives +itself up to the beloved object, exists in it, and is not master of +itself; it does not calculate, it knows no care; it takes its chance +whether fidelity will at length bless it or treachery destroy it. But +it cannot exist without hope; it demands the heart of its object, and +in that finds its heaven.” + +“And in that it finds its heaven,” sighed I, as I again stood in my own +chamber and thought of Clementine. + +I took down the withered wreath, which had been hitherto a sacred +pledge of Clementine’s favour, and hung it upon my harp. Had she not +herself thrown it on the breast which incloses my loving heart? Did +she not then appear as if she wished to crown that heart with her own +hand? Could it only have been childish play? Ah! could it have been +indifferent to her whether it was a crown of thorns or a wreath of +blossoms which she was winding round my heart? + +She was at the window. I raised the wreath and pressed it to my lips. +She seemed to perceive it; she suppressed a smile, bent forward and +looked into the street, but not again at me. This response plunged me +into inexpressible trouble. It seemed as if she was ashamed of the +gift she once had bestowed on me. I now suddenly became conscious of +what I expected and hoped from her. I wished an impossibility. I had +never thought of Clementine as my wife; I loved her and wished to be +loved by her. But she my wife? I, the poor son of a farmer who died +encumbered with debt. I who still had to battle with want, and only +saw an uncertain fate in the future--I expect the richest heiress in +Montpellier! + +At this thought my proud spirit sank. I loved Clementine and forgave +her if she could not return my love. I saw clearly that I could not +change the relations of social life; and, in fact, was too proud to +make my fortune by marriage. + +Henceforth I applied more ardently to my studies, wishing to pave my +way to Clementine’s elevation by my own energies. Many nights I passed +sleepless in study. Desirous of hearing the unbiassed judgment of +critics respecting my talents, I published, anonymously, a work on the +jurisprudence of the ancients, and a collection of poems, the greater +part of which were inspired by my secret passion. + +This publication of my labours had an unexpected success. Curiosity +soon discovered the name of the author, who was everywhere courted. +The loud applause raised my self-esteem, and the success of my first +attempt rekindled the extinguished flame of hope by the light of which +I saw Clementine as my own, though at a distance which rendered her +indistinct. + +She herself rewarded me in the most pleasing manner, by once reading my +poems at the window, when their author had become known. Indeed, from +a hundred allusions in the poems which she only understood, she might +have guessed their author. She looked across to me, smiled, and +pressed the book to her bosom, as if she wished to tell me, “I love it, +and what you express in it you have addressed to this heart, which +feels and is grateful.” + +I again took up the withered wreath, at which I had often sung; smiled, +made a sigh, and retired. + +But no one was more delighted by the applause I had gained than my +friend Bertollon. He became more affectionate and confidential. We +regarded each other as brothers; he was devoted to me, and proved, in a +thousand ways, that he had a heart for others. He did not let a day +pass without showing some kindness; it was only by chance that I +learned many of his noble deeds. + +“Oh! Bertollon,” I once exclaimed, as I pressed him to my heart, “what +a man you are! Why must I pity as much as admire you?” + +“You go too far in both points, for I deserve neither one nor the +other,” replied he, with a complacent smile. + +“No! Bertollon, what I lament is, that you are good and virtuous, +without wishing to appear so; you call virtue fanaticism and narrowness +of ideas, and yet you constantly practise its precepts.” + +“Well, then, Alamontade, rest satisfied with that. Why do you for ever +weary yourself with my conversion? When you are older I shall see you +treading in my footsteps; be, at least, tolerant for the present; the +same child has, perhaps, a twofold name.” + +“I doubt it. Could you, Bertollon, voluntarily plunge yourself into +misery in order to support a righteous cause?” + +“What do you call a righteous cause? Your ideas are not clear.” + +“If you could save Montpellier from destruction by sacrificing +yourself, would you be capable of suffering poverty or death?” + +“M. Colas, you rave again. Only fanatics can demand and make such +sacrifices, and it is good for the world that there are such. But now +come for once to your senses; I am sorry that you are always indulging +such whims, for in this way you will never be happy. Run over the +whole world and collect the fools who would meet death for your +notions: you will not find one in a hundred million. Every thing is +true, good, useful, just, and noble, only under certain circumstances. +The ideas of men vary everywhere; many have fancied that they could +save the world by their death. They died, but for their own caprice, +not for the world, and were afterwards laughed at as fools.” + +“For these words I could despise you, Bertollon.” + +“Then you would not be over virtuous, according to your own notions.” + +“If you could increase your wealth by plunging me into misery, would +you do so!” + +“For such a question I ought to despise you, Colas?” + +“And yet I may put it, for you say that you only strive after that +which is useful to yourself. You weigh the goodness of an action only +by the result.” + +“Dear Colas, I see you will be a bad advocate, and will make a poor +fortune, if you only defend causes which are right according to your +notions, and never an unjust one by which you might gain.” + +“I swear to you, Bertollon, I should abhor myself as long as I lived, +if ever I moved my lips for the accusation of innocence, and the +defence of crime.” + +“And yet you, good-hearted simpleton, you will do it more than once, +because you will not always find guilt or innocence written on men’s +foreheads. You will be the world’s fool, if you will not walk its way.” + +In this manner we often disputed. I was sometimes puzzled with him, +and could have feared him, had he not always expressed his terrible +opinions so jocosely, that he did not seem to believe them himself. He +only wished to irritate me, and when he had succeeded, laughed +heartily. But his actions contradicted his words. + +Madame Bertollon, on the contrary, daily displayed more of the noble +sentiments that animated her. She glowed for the virtuous actions +which she practised with religious ardour. + +I became her guest, and we were never in want of conversation. Alone +with her I spent the long winter evenings, and from me she learned the +harp. Soon I could accompany her charming voice, while she sang my +songs with deep feeling. She was lovely, and her beauty would have +been dangerous to me, had not my heart been fixed on Clementine. + +When I spoke of her with enthusiasm to Bertollon, he smiled; if I +reproached him for leaving such a lovely creature to herself, he +replied, “Our tastes differ; let every one follow his own inclination. +Would you, dear despot, have all heads and hearts moulded in the same +form? I know my wife loses nothing by me, consequently she is not made +unhappy by my treating her in the manner so customary in fashionable +society. She knew this beforehand. If you are happy in her society I +am glad; and I rejoice if she also finds pleasure in your conversation. +You see, virtuous Colas, that I, also, am capable of great sacrifices, +for I leave you to her often when I most sincerely desire your company.” + +I had finished my studies, had taken the degree of Doctor of Laws, and +had obtained permission to practise as attorney before the tribunals of +the kingdom. My increased occupations during this time prevented me +from visiting Madame Bertollon as frequently as before; but she +received me the more joy fully when we met; and I felt now, more than +ever, how sincerely I was attached to her. We never confessed how +indispensable we were to each other; but each of us betrayed it in +every feature, and by the cordiality of demeanour. + +At times it seemed to me as if she were more melancholy than she had +been, and then, again, more affable and complaisant; at other times she +appeared to treat me with marked coldness and reserve; and then, again, +as if she wished, with sisterly affection, to quiet my anxiety. This +change of behaviour surprised me, and I vainly endeavoured to discover +the reason of it. I could not help perceiving that she no longer +possessed her former serenity and equanimity. I often found her with +eyes that evinced recent weeping. She sometimes spoke with singular +enthusiasm of the retirement of a convent, and withdrew more and more +from her usual society. A hidden melancholy gnawed the bud of her +youth. + +These reflections make me also melancholy, and I in vain endeavoured to +cheer her. The calm sadness of her look, the vanishing bloom of her +cheek, her deep silence, and her efforts to conceal, by an affected +cheerfulness, the grief which was gnawing her heart, added to my +friendship the genial warmth and tenderness of sympathy. How gladly +would I have sacrificed my life to procure happiness for her! + +One evening when I accompanied her singing on my harp, a sudden burst +of tears choked her voice. Alarmed, I ceased playing. She rose, and +was on the point of hurrying to her apartment to conceal her grief. + +How touching, in moments of quiet suffering, are youth, beauty, and +innocence. I seized her hand, and held her back. + +“No!” she exclaimed, “let me go.” + +“Stay, I cannot possibly let you go in this excited state. May I not +witness your grief? Am I not your friend? Do you not yourself call me +so? And does not this pleasing name give me a right to ask you the +cause of that affliction which you in vain endeavour to conceal from +me?” + +“Leave me, I conjure you, leave me,” she cried, as she endeavoured, +with feeble efforts, to free herself. + +“No,” said I, “you are unhappy.” + +“Unhappy, alas!” she sighed, with unrestrained grief, drooping her +beautiful face on my bosom to conceal her tears. + +Involuntarily I clasped my arms around the gentle sufferer. A deep +sympathy seized me. I stammered forth some words of consolation, and +begged her to be calm. + +“Alas! I am unhappy,” she exclaimed, sobbing, and with vehemence. I +dared not endeavour further to appease the storm of feeling by my +untimely persuasions; and, letting her weep without interruption, I led +her back to her seat, as I felt that she became exhausted and +trembling, her head resting still on my bosom. + +“You are not well?” I asked timidly. + +“I feel better now,” she replied; and, becoming more tranquil, she +looked up, and seeing tears in my eyes, asked, “Why do you weep, +Alamontade?” + +“Can I remain unmoved by your sorrows?” I answered, bending down to +her. Silently we sat absorbed in our feelings, hand in hand, gazing at +each other. A tear rolled down her cheek, which I kissed away, and +drew the sufferer closely to my heart, unconscious of what I was doing. +During this embrace our fears evaporated with the glow of our cheeks; +and what we called friendship, was changed into love. + +We parted; ten times we bade each other farewell, and as often I +clasped her in my arms, forgetting the separation. + +Keeling as if intoxicated, I entered my room; the harp, wreath, and +window, terrified me. + +I had never been in a greater state of confusion than I was on the +following morning. I could not understand myself, and wavered between +contradictions. Madame Bertollon appeared to love me; but hitherto she +had heroically struggled with feelings which seemed to wound the +nobility of her mind. I was the wretch who, without loving her, could +encourage her passion, and fan the fatal flame by which she must be +consumed, and I must be dishonoured still more than the unhappy woman +herself. + +In vain I called to mind the sacredness of my duties; in vain I +disclosed to myself the base ingratitude I committed against +Bertollon’s generous friendship; in vain I remembered my own and +Clementine’s vows; all that once had been to her pleasing and estimable +had lost its power and influence. The tumult of my senses continued +without intermission: only Bertollon’s lovely wife floated in my +imagination; I still felt on my lip the glow of her kiss, and my +flattered vanity overwhelmed the earnest warnings of my conscience with +illusive sophistry. + +“Wretch! you will feel remorse, you will some day blush at your own +disgraceful act, and the snow of advanced age will not quench the +burning of an evil conscience!” + +With these words I endeavoured to arouse my better feelings. While I +still revelled in the remembrance of the previous evening, and dark +forebodings were rising in my mind, I sat down at the table to write to +Madame Bertollon, to describe to her the danger to which we should both +expose ourselves by further intercourse, and to tell her that to +continue worthy of her friendship I must leave her and Montpellier. + +But while reason dictated her precepts, and I wished to make the first +heavy sacrifice to virtue, I wrote to Madame Bertollon the most solemn +oaths of my attachment, declaring falsely that a secret passion for her +had long consumed me, and that I saw my happiness only in her love. I +entreated and conjured her not to let me despair, and unrolled to her +imagination a vivid picture of our bliss. + +I started up, read the letter over and over, tore it, and wrote +another, repeating only what I had written, and then again destroyed +it. As if by an unknown power I was drawn against my will to a crime +at which my soul vainly shuddered. While vowing to myself, in a +half-suppressed voice, that I would start for Nismes, and never again +see the walls of Montpellier, I also vowed unconsciously I would never +leave the charming though unhappy woman; but that I would cling to her, +although my passion should lead to inevitable death. + +It was as if two distinct souls were struggling within me with equal +power and skill. But consciousness became more dim, and the feeling of +duty expired in the feeling of the all-engrossing desire. I resolved +to hasten to Madame Bertollon, thinking that she was perhaps tormenting +herself with reproaches at the weakness she had shown, or that she also +might be determined to leave me and Monpellier. I intended to detain +her to reason away her fears, and to endeavour to persuade her of the +lawfulness of our love. + +I started up and ran to the door. A voice within me again cried, “You +are going to sin then?--to lose the long guarded feeling of innocence?” +I hesitated, and stepped back, saying to myself, “Be pure as God and +continue so. One day more and this storm will pass over, and then you +are safe.” + +This holy feeling exalted me; the words, “Be pure as God,” sounded +above the tumult of my agitated feelings, and deterred me, for the time +at least, from hastening to Madame Bertollon. But the struggle +remained undecided; my yearnings became more impetuous, and I scorned +my own virtuous intentions. + +At this moment the door of my room opened, and M. Bertollon entered. + +“How are you, dear Colas,” he asked, “are you unwell?” At this +question I first perceived that I had thrown myself on my bed, from +which I jumped up, but had not the courage to take the hand which he +extended to me. + +“But what is the matter with you, Colas?” he said again, “you look +confused and pale.” + +Before I could reply, the voice within me again called, “Disclose all +to him, disclose all to her husband, and a barrier will be raised +between you and his wife; you will remain pure, you will not be the +seducer of a woman, nor the traitor and deceiver of your noble +benefactor and friend.” + +“Bertollon,” said I, hastily, fearing that I might not finish my +confession; “I am unhappy, because I love your wife.” I had scarcely +uttered the last syllable when remorse seized me; but it was too late, +it was done, the husband knew all, and I was now for once right. In +the wild tumult of the senses, when powerful passion struggles with the +sense of duty, it is only a sudden and decided act which we perceive to +be a remedy, that can save us. We must as it were forcibly drive the +reluctant body to accomplish it, until we can no more return. I felt +like one who is tossed about by the waves of the ocean, and who, when +on the point of drowning, indistinctly perceives before his giddy eye +the branches on the shore, and hears a voice within him saying, “Seize +them.” + +Bertollon changed colour and said, “What did you say, Colas?” + +“I must go, I must flee Montpellier, you and your wife, for I love +her,” replied I. + +“I think you are a fool,” said he, smiling, and he regained his usual +colour. + +“No, Bertollon, I am in earnest; I must not remain here. Your wife is +a virtuous woman! and I fear my intercourse with her will prove her +ruin and my own. It is yet time. You are my friend, my benefactor, I +will not deceive you. Take this bitter confession as a proof of my +love for you. I am too weak to be always master of myself, and your +wife is too lovely for me to remain indifferent near her.” + +“A saint like you, Colas,” said Bertollon, laughing loud, “who with +pious devotion confesses the secrets of his heart to the husband +himself, will not be dangerous to any husband. Compose yourself; you +will remain with us. What folly to make so much ado about a passion? +I trust you, and have suspicion neither of you nor of my wife; let that +suffice. If you love each other, what can I do against your hearts? +If I interpose the world between you, would you love each other less +for that? Will your removal remove also your heart? Love each other; +I know you both think too nobly to forget yourselves.” + +He said all this so ingenuously and cheerfully, and with a tone of such +unsuspecting confidence, that I pressed him with emotion to my heart. +His noble-mindedness renewed my virtuous resolutions; I was ashamed of +my baseness and even of the fact that it had cost me so hard a struggle. + +“No! dear Bertollon,” said I. “I should indeed be a wretch if I could +betray your confidence and requite your friendship so disgracefully. +You have brought me back to a sense of my better self; I will remain +here, and the recollection of your trust in me will preserve me against +any dishonourable intention. I will remain and prove that I am worthy +of you, by breaking off all intercourse with your wife. I will never +see her alone; I will----” + +“Why tell me all this?” interrupted Bertollon. “It is enough that I +trust you. Do you imagine that I have not long observed that my wife +loves you, that her love is characterised by her violent, impetuous +temper, and that her passion is the more powerful the more she conceals +it? Impress her with your noble principles, and cure her if you wish; +but be cautious. I know her; her love might soon change into terrible +hatred, and then woe be to you.” + +“What! Do you expect, Bertollon, that I shall cure her of a disease by +which I am myself overwhelmed? And what are you talking of the +violence of her temper? Of this I have never discovered even the +slightest symptom.” + +“Friend Colas, you do not know the sex. In order to please you, she +will not show herself in her true colours; and should she once forget +herself, love will make you blind.” + +Here the subject was dropped, and he engaged my attention by another +topic, as he would not suffer me to resume our former conversation. +The more I had cause to admire the extent of his confidence, the calmer +I became, and the more I resolved to separate gradually from his wife. +The following evening I saw her again: she was sitting alone in her +apartment, her beautiful head resting sadly on her arm. As soon as she +perceived me she rose, her face expressing a pleasing confusion, and +her eyes cast down. For some time we remain silent. + +At length I asked, trembling, “May I dare to appear before you? But I +only come to atone for my transgression.” + +To this she made no reply. + +“I have abused your confidence,” I continued. “Esteem ought to be my +only feeling for the wife of my friend. I have acted dishonourably.” + +“So have I,” she added in a whisper. + +“Alas! madame, I feel I am too little master of myself;--nay, who could +be so in your presence? But, should it cost my life, I will not +disturb your peace of mind. My resolution is unalterably taken. I +have discovered my innermost heart to your husband.” + +“Discovered!” she exclaimed, terrified; “and he--?” + +“He at first changed colour.” + +“He changed colour?” she faltered. + +“But with confidence in you, madame, and with a confidence greater than +my virtue, he wished to dissuade me from my intention of leaving +Montpellier.” + +“Was that your intention, Alamontade?” + +“It is still so. I love you, madame; but you are Bertollon’s wife, and +I will not disturb the peace of a family to which I am indebted for a +thousand benefits.” + +“You are a noble man,” said she, shedding tears. “You intend doing +what I was resolved to do. My clothes are ready packed. I must and +will not conceal from you, Alamontade, that I wish I had never known +you. Our friendship grew into love. I deceived myself in vain, and +struggled too late against my violent feelings.” + +She sobbed more violently, and exclaimed, “Yes, it is better thus! We +must part, but not for ever. No! only until our hearts beat more +calmly, until we can meet with cooler friendship.” + +At these words I was deeply moved. + +“But, alas! kind friend,” she continued, still sobbing, and throwing +herself on my bosom, “I shall not long survive this separation.” + +While her heart beat against mine, and our passion was rekindled, and +our sense of duty was struggling for victory, the hours fled quickly. +We vowed eternal, pure, sacred love, and yet swore to extinguish it in +our hearts. We resolved to separate, to see each other seldom, and +then only with calmness, and in the presence of witnesses, and sealed +the indissoluble alliance of our souls with rapturous kisses. + +What a wretched creature is man! He is ever weakest when he thinks +himself strongest. He who flees temptation is the hero; he who +wantonly runs into it to attain the crown of virtue has lost it before +he begins the combat. + +When we parted, we agreed that I should not go farther than a league +from Montpellier. I was to live at the château near Castelnau, and +only to come to town on an occasional visit. Without delay I executed +my design, departing without venturing to take leave of Madame +Bertollon; and, however much M. Bertollon was against it, he was, +nevertheless, obliged at last to consent. + +I soon recovered from my delusion in the tranquillity of rural nature. +I felt that I had never loved Madame Bertollon, and I despised myself +for endeavouring to make her believe that I entertained a sentiment for +her which I did not feel. All with me had been nothing but an +intoxicating delusion, which was first produced by the unhappy passion +that this lovely creature could no longer conceal from me. She alone +was to be pitied, and it was my duty to restore to her the peace she +had lost. + +My mind now gradually resuming its wonted serenity and cheerfulness, +rose above the clouds that had darkened it, and Clementine’s image +stood before me more resplendent and charming than ever. At my +departure from Montpellier, I had left the wreath and harp behind, not +because I had then quite forgotten Clementine, but because shame and a +sacred awe drove me back when I was on the point of touching the adored +relics. I no longer thought myself worthy of her, and considered the +torments of my longing, and of the separation from her, a mild penance +for my crime. + +Several weeks passed, during which Bertollon only called on me, telling +me often that he could not live without me, and yet that he was +fettered by his affairs to the unlucky town. + +He made several attempts to induce me to return to Montpellier; but in +vain. I continued in my salutary retreat, and felt myself happier. + +One morning early, I was awakened by my servant, who told me that M. +Larette, a friend of Bertollon’s, had called, and desired to speak to +me immediately. At the same moment, Larette himself entered, pale and +confused. + +“Get up,” he cried, “and come directly to Montpellier.” + +“What is the matter?” I asked, terrified. + +“Get up and dress yourself; you must not lose a moment; Bertollon is +poisoned, and is on the point of death.” + +“Poisoned?” I faltered, and sank back senseless on my bed. + +“Only be quick, he wishes to see you once more; I hastened here by his +order.” + +Trembling, I flung on my clothes, and followed him mechanically to the +door, where a carriage awaited us. We stepped in, and, with the utmost +speed, went to Montpellier. + +“Poisoned?” I asked again on the way. + +“Certainly,” replied M. Larette, “but there is an inconceivable mystery +about the affair. A fellow who bought the poison at the chemist’s has +been imprisoned; Madame Bertollon is also a prisoner in her apartment.” + +“Madame Bertollon a prisoner!--For what reason? And who has put her +under arrest?” + +“The magistrate.” + +“The magistrate! Is the police mad enough to fancy Madame Bertollon +capable of poisoning her husband?” + +“He believes it, and every body----” + +“Sir, you are shrugging your shoulders; ‘And every body?--’ Well, +continue: what were you going to say.” + +“That every body believes it. The fellow, Valentine I think is his +name----” + +“What Valentine? Sure the old faithful servant, the most honest fellow +under the sun----” + +“Well, he has deposed, that about a week ago, he fetched the poison by +order of Madame Bertollon.” + +“The infernal liar; the----” + +“And Madame Bertollon, when interrogated about the servant’s +deposition, has confessed it unconditionally. There, that is the whole +affair.” + +“Confessed? I am bewildered; for I do not understand you. What has +she confessed?” + +“That she sent Valentine for the poison.” + +“Horrible! and also that it was she that murdered, poisoned, her own +husband?” + +“Who would like to confess such things? but such unfortunately is the +case. Bertollon felt yesterday morning his usual indisposition; you +know he is sometimes subject to giddiness. He then requested his wife, +who keeps a medicine-chest, to give him the usual cordial, a very +expensive essence which she keeps in a gilt blue phial.” + +“I know it well and also the essence.” + +“She herself poured it into a spoon, added some sugar and administered +it to her husband. In a short time he felt the most violent spasms in +his bowels. The physician was sent for and recognised the symptoms as +the effect of poison; of which they found remains in the spoon. The +physician did his utmost to save him. He asked for the essence to +analyze it. At this Madame Bertollon was offended, and asked whether +they thought she was a poisoner; but at length being no longer able to +refuse the phial without causing suspicion, she gave it up. In the +meanwhile several physicians had been called, as well as an officer of +the police. The affair becoming known, the druggist, who recollected +that the poison had been bought by Valentine, had informed the police +of the circumstance. Valentine was immediately arrested, but referred +to his mistress and her orders. Madame Bertollon being interrogated by +the police, fainted; all her keys were taken from her, the +medicine-chest was examined, and the poison, which was recognised by +the above-mentioned druggist, was found. It was, however, deficient in +weight, and the essence in the blue phial being likewise examined, the +poison was discovered in that. Thus, sir, do matters stand, and you +may think of it as you please.” + +I shuddered but did not say a word, seeing in the whole a horrible +connexion which neither Larette nor any one but myself could perceive. +Madame Bertollon loved me with frightful intensity, and our separation +had increased her passion instead of checking it; thus she conceived +this atrocious plan of freeing herself from her husband. I called to +mind the consuming fire in her character, of which Bertollon had told +me. I also remembered my last interview with her, during which I had +inconsiderately told her that I had candidly confessed our attachment +to her husband, and how she then was startled, and how she had inquired +anxiously concerning Bertollon’s deportment. + +My conjecture was changed into a frightful certainty. I could imagine +how the black thought was matured in her, I saw her mixing the accursed +draught, and, infatuated by her passion, presenting it to her unhappy +husband. + +We arrived in Montpellier. I hastened to the room of my beloved +benefactor, exclaiming at the foot of the stairs: “Is he still living?” + +They told me in whispers to be calm, and prevented me from entering his +apartment. He had sunk into a gentle slumber, from which he was +expected to derive benefit, and even to recover during its influence. + +“And where is Madame Bertollon?” I asked. + +In answer to this I was told that she had left the house early that +morning, and had gone to her relations, where she was under arrest upon +the security of her family; that her nearest relations, by their +influence and with much difficulty, had succeeded in saving her from +the disgrace of imprisonment. I was further told in confidence that M. +Bertollon had advised her, through a friend, to fly to Italy before it +was too late. As she hesitated, her brothers also had endeavoured to +persuade her to avail herself of her short period of liberty. Her +pride, however, triumphed, and her reply was: “I shall not fly, for by +doing so I should own a crime of which I am not yet, and cannot be, +convicted.” + +Beauty of form exerts its magic only so far as we conceive it to be the +sign of a noble soul, but loses all its power, nay, inspires us with +horror, when it is the cloak of crime. Let the artist paint Sin +beautiful on the threshold of hell, and it will be a thousand times +more terrible when that which is dearest to man is but the tool of his +wickedness. + +I could no longer think of Madame Bertollon without detestation. She +was a poisoner, and all that Larette had hastily told me was confirmed +in Montpellier; while a number of various circumstances threw still +greater light on her murderous deed. + +All Montpellier was in agitation at this extraordinary occurrence. +Bertollon’s gradual recovery, which was accomplished by the skill of +the physicians, caused the most lively joy in every house. I no more +left the bed of my beloved friend, whom I honoured as a father and a +brother. + +“Oh, Bertollon!” I exclaimed one day, “You are saved. How miserable I +should have been had you died! My grief would not long have allowed me +to survive your death. You are my only friend, the only one in the +world; you are my benefactor, my guardian angel. I am always ready to +die for you. And is it possible that a woman, such a tender timid +creature, a woman endowed with, such heavenly charms, a woman whose +eyes and mouth preached virtue so sweetly, could be so atrocious?” + +“Do you still love her, Alamontade,” said Bertollon, pressing my hand. + +“Love her? The very thought is revolting to me. I never loved her; it +was only trifling vanity and a delusion of the senses that I once in my +infatuation called love. I have never loved her. A secret power +always drove my heart from her. How should I love one who intended to +murder you? I curse every hour I spent in her society; and repent the +attentions I lavished on her. Ah! I knew her not.” + +By this time the trial had commenced. The most celebrated counsel in +Montpellier, M. Menard, came forward of his own accord to the family of +the accused, and offered to be her defender. Menard had never lost a +suit. The charm of his eloquence conquered all; where he could not +convince reason he knew how to entangle it inextricably by doubts, and +to excite against it all the feelings of the heart. Whenever he spoke +in the court it was crowded with spectators, who often came from +distant parts to hear him. He undertook with success even the worst +cause, if he could expect from it a rich reward. + +“I desire nothing,” said Bertollon, “but an eternal separation from the +poisoner, and I require no other punishment for her than the failure of +her attempt. Her own conscience and public contempt are a sufficient +sting to her. I know Menard is my personal enemy. He was once my +rival, and I foresee that by his artifices he will so confound and +dazzle the judges and people, that my infamous wife will extricate +herself triumphantly.” + +“That he shall not do!” I exclaimed with vehemence. “Pray Bertollon +entrust me with your case, though I am but a beginner, and have never +spoken in a court of law. Confide in me and the justness of your +cause. Indeed, it does not grieve me to appear before the tribunal +against a lady whom I once called my friend, and who loaded me with +treacherous favours. You are my brother and benefactor, your cause is +sacred.” + +Bertollon smiled, expressing at the same time his doubts as to my being +a match for my adversary’s tact. At length, however, he agreed to my +wish of making his suit the first trial of my ability, but was +apparently apprehensive. + +“Be easy, dear Bertollon,” said I, “friendship will inspire and exalt +me if I should seem to sink under Menard’s superior powers, and +notwithstanding all his subtlety he will not be able to get over the +facts which his client too hastily confessed.” + +From time immemorial no trial had excited greater interest than this, +which was rendered so conspicuous, both by the atrocity of its cause, +and the respectability of the parties concerned. And what a part I +undertook! No one knew the relation in which I had stood to Madame +Bertollon. No one imagined that I had once clasped the accused to my +heart in a moment of extatic rapture; no one knew that her illicit +affection for me had perhaps given her hand the first direction towards +mixing the poisonous draught. + +All this was still a secret, and was to remain so until Menard’s art +should threaten victory over me. Then only this last mine was to +explode against him. + +When it was reported in Montpellier that I was Bertollon’s advocate, +success was given to my opponent beforehand. After sufficient +investigation, and the examination of witnesses, Menard and I were +called to the bar. This powerful speaker seemed only to mock me. He +almost evinced contempt, at appearing against a young man who had +recently been his pupil, and was now going to make his _debût_. He +spoke with such power that he affected me most deeply, and almost +inspired me for the cause of the accused. + +The trial had been prolonged by Menard’s manoeuvres for six months, +when I had hoped to conquer in a few weeks. Menard was always followed +by the applause of the people on leaving the court; and it appeared +that I wasted my energies in rendering his victory more difficult, only +to increase his laurels. + +The beauty of the accused had gained for her party all the young men of +the town, and her former beneficence engaged for her the poorer class +of the people. I had to contend against Menard, against the secret +predilection of innumerable hearts prejudiced in her favour, and the +remembrance of the virtues which Madame Bertollon had once displayed. + +The more, however, my cause seemed hopeless, the more my courage rose. +An unusual energy animated me, and Menard himself began to respect or +fear me the more I drove him back from his first conquests. His party +diminished in proportion, as he was forced to acknowledge the truth of +facts which he had before rendered doubtful and uncertain. Soon I +heard my praise in public; soon a small number of partisans surrounded +me: soon the applause of the people was increased, the more Madame +Bertollon appeared guilty, and her beauty and virtues were eclipsed and +darkened by the remembrance of so black a deed. + +Pleasing as this incense was to me, it delighted me less than +Clementine’s quiet approval. Madame Bertollon was related to the +family De Sonnes. When it was known that I undertook Bertollon’s +cause, Clementine often appeared at the window shaking her head sadly, +and making menacing signs. I thought I understood her, and shrugged my +shoulders, but was not deterred from performing a duty so sacred. + +As my name became more known and lauded in Montpellier, she became more +friendly. She appeared to forget her relationship to Madame Bertollon +in my success. Yes! I saw myself loved by the angel I adored. No +mortal could be happier than I. Our dumb correspondence had now lasted +for years. + +But I turn to that fatal trial which now took the most serious turn for +the accused. Madame Bertollon seeing every fact and witness in league +against her, could do nothing but strongly deny her intention of +poisoning her husband, though appearances rendered her guilty. I now +insisted on interrogating her more closely respecting her object in +buying the poison a week previous to the deed. To this she gave +evasive answers, and entangled herself in contradictions. It was +evident that she feared discovering the reason. All the entreaties of +her relations, and the menaces of her advocate, were of no avail. This +increased the suspicion; Menard gave up his case as lost, though still +protesting her innocence. The tribunal ordered closer confinement, and +threatened the first examination by the rack to force confession. + +Now Madame Bertollon undertook to plead her own cause before the +tribunal in which Menard had been so unsuccessful. In this I saw +nothing but an artifice of Menard himself, who wished to call the power +of female beauty to his aid to support his eloquence. + +As she entered the hall a deathlike silence prevailed. She never was +so charming as at this moment; her simple attire, and the paleness of +deep grief, summoned compassion into each heart, and tears into every +eye. + +All was silent, and all eyes were turned from her upon me. I was to +speak, but could not, such was my inexpressible confusion. She was the +picture of suffering innocence. All the delightful hours I had spent +with her were recalled to my memory on seeing her, and surrounded my +soul like weeping angels pleading for her and whispering that she was +certainly guiltless. + +At length I recovered. I declared that no one would be more delighted +by a proof of the innocence of the accused than her husband, and +myself, his advocate. But for this proof it was necessary that she +should remove suspicion and confess her intention in purchasing the +poison. + +Madame Bertollon appeared very weak, leaning on the arm of her +advocate. She looked at me with a painful glance, expressive of love +and sorrow. + +“Oh! Alamontade,” she said, in a faint voice, “and must it be you to +urge the discovery of my object in purchasing the poison? You--and in +this place?” + +After a few moments’ silence she suddenly rose, turned her pale +countenance towards the judges, and said, in a bitter tone, expressive +of mental despair, + +“My lords, you have threatened me with the rack to force my confession; +that is sufficient, and I will put an end to the proceedings--I am +guilty, I intended a murder with this poison. More you will not learn +from me; pronounce your verdict.” + +She turned and left the court--perfect silence and utter amazement +prevailed. Two days afterwards the tribunal pronounced the verdict of +“guilty” against the wretched woman. + +M. Bertollon had long since recovered. He was more cheerful than +usual, and joked as before at my zeal for virtue; he loved me at the +same time so truly that it grieved him that I so obstinately persisted +in my strict principles. I therefore sometimes afforded him the +satisfaction of appearing to agree with him, and of yielding to his +favourite whim, that all upon earth was but a play of expediency. + +The evening previous to the day on which the sentence was passed I was +with him; we were cheerfully sitting at our wine, until midnight, and +swore everlasting friendship to each other till death. + +“Tell me, Colas, do you know Clementine de Sonnes?” + +I blushed. Wine and confidence in his friendship elicited the holy +secret. Bertollon laughed immoderately, exclaiming repeatedly, +“Simpleton that you are! you are everywhere tricked by your heavenly +virtue. Pray be rational for once, why have you not told me this long +since? She would now be your betrothed; well, she shall be yours, here +is my hand upon it. With prudence we may subdue the world, why not a +girl or a proud family? I have already observed that Clementine is not +likely to refuse you.” + +In raptures I clasped my friend in my arms. “Oh! if you could do that, +Bertollon, you would make me happy--make me a god.” + +“So much the better, for I shall still want your divine assistance for +some pet plan. A girl so like your Clementine that they might be taken +for sisters. Such a girl lives at Adze. You simpletons have hitherto +thought that I go there as frequently as I do for the sake of pure air +or business. No; I love the girl inexpressibly; no woman ever fettered +me like her. As soon as I am rid of my wife I shall court the Venus of +Adze. But then, M. Colas, I shall trouble you not to have such +conversations with my future wife as you used to enjoy with my first +one.” + +“What, Bertollon!” I exclaimed, confounded; “you will marry again?” + +“Certainly. Look you. I at first thought you were going to play a +romance in due form with my wife; I thought you really loved her, in +which case I would have resigned her to you, and then we could have +come to some arrangement in the affair. I should have liked it very +well, and we should not have had all this ado about the poison which +had nearly gone against me.” + +“But how do you mean, Bertollon? I do not quite understand you.” + +“I must tell you, you innocent. In my wife’s absence, I one evening +secretly searched her drawers--you may laugh; you see I did not quite +trust you at that time, with all your virtue; for I thought you had +exchanged love letters of grief and affection. While so doing, the +lame Jacques happened to come down the stairs and saw me leave my +wife’s room after I played her this trick. But the blockhead passed +quickly and saluted me.” + +“What trick do you mean? You talk so confusedly. Drink! here is to +your health.” + +“And to yours, Colas! You have acquitted yourself well. You are a +capital fellow. I lay you would not have made an address half so good +before the court against my wife, had you known that I myself mixed the +poison with the essence, though it was only a small quantity.” + +“No! certainly not, dear Bertollon.” + +“Therefore it was wise on my part not to tell you before; now it can do +no harm.” + +“Why you were not fool enough to wish to poison yourself?” + +“As to that I knew very well that I was in no great danger. I was only +astonished to find poison in my wife’s possession. She had labelled +it. But what do you think she intended to do with it?” + +“Why, that is an enigma.” + +“But it was a deep trick, Colas, was it not? The following morning I +pretended giddiness, sent for my wife, who brought me the essence +herself as usual. The physician was also sent for, and an antidote was +applied, but I had only mixed in a small quantity of the poison.” + +“But Bertollon, what are you talking about? Your wife after all then +is quite innocent?” + +“That is the joke in the affair. And you have pleaded your throat sore +for nothing. But drink; this will cure it. Confess now, was it not a +bold stroke of mine? My wife must think she is quite bewitched, for +she does not know that I have the best of picklocks in the world for +all her drawers.” + +“But--” said I, becoming suddenly sober with horror. + +“Let no one hear any thing of this; you, Colas, are my only confidant. +You must know that the affair might have terminated badly after all, as +in my haste I upset a phial containing a red liquid in the +medicine-chest, and forgot to replace it. But, to cut the matter +short, Colas, I am happy. You shall be so too. I swear to you that +the day on which I marry Julia, you shall celebrate your nuptials with +Clementine. But what is the matter with you? Actually you are +fainting. There--drink some water. The champagne does not agree with +you.” + +He supported me with one arm, while offering me the glass with the +other, which I pushed back shuddering. I was stunned by what I had +heard. + +“Go to bed,” he said. + +I left him, while he staggered after me, laughing loudly. + +Midnight had long passed, sleep had not visited me, and when morning +approached I had not even undressed, and I walked up and down the room +in great agitation. What a night! What had I learned? I was not able +to believe so atrocious and revolting a crime. An innocent and +virtuous wife, who had never offended her husband, plunged into prison +and everlasting disgrace; the husband abusing his friend by making him +accomplish his hellish designs, and innocence tortured with pangs more +bitter than death? + +I felt some relief, however, in the hope that Bertollon only wished to +test my friendship. For, if he really had acted so atrociously, how +could he venture to let another glass of wine pass his lips, since +every drop threatened to disclose his secret; how could he so +shamelessly reveal himself in all his atrocity, either to a villain or +to an honourable man? + +But I hoped in vain to deceive myself; his expressions respecting me +and his unfortunate wife, and his former willingness to resign her to +me, made all but too true. His early plans were now becoming clearly +developed in the misty distance. I recollected many expressions which +he had used, and that he himself favoured my intercourse with Madame +Bertollon, and refused to become suspicious of our intimacy. And when +he spoke of the vehemence and reserve of her disposition, he probably +then conceived designs of charging her with this crime. + +The morning had dawned, and I was still undecided as to what I should +do. Innocence must be saved, but her safety must be the ruin of my +benefactor, my first and only friend; only an excess of love for me had +elicited the horrible secret. Should I go and betray him? He was the +author of my happiness; should the hand which had received innumerable +benefits from him, plunge him ungratefully into an unfathomable abyss? +Should I lose him whom I still loved, the only one who loved me? +“Unhappy series of events,” I sighed, “must I become the instrument of +fettering innocence, or of sacrificing the life of my benefactor?” + +But my conscience cried, “Be just before you wish to be kind! Whatever +consequences may attend the actions which we perform, from duty,--nay, +even did they involve the destruction of ourselves--nothing should +hinder us when virtue is at stake. Return to your poverty, go solitary +and cheerfully through life, only save your peace of mind and carry +with you a quiet conscience. You did what justice required. There is +a God, be pure as he is.” + +I wrote to the police inspector of the district to come immediately to +me on most urgent business. On his arrival I repaired to Bertollon’s +room, while the officer remained without. + +Bertollon was still asleep; I trembled, love and compassion overcame +me, I exclaimed, “Bertollon,” and kissed him. + +He awoke, and I suffered him to wake completely during some indifferent +conversation. + +“Tell me,” I said, at length, “is your wife really innocent? Had you +poisoned the essence yourself?” + +He looked at me with a penetrating glance, saying, “Be silent.” + +“But, Bertollon, this answer is but a confirmation of last night’s +statement. I conjure you, my friend, remove my doubts. Have you done +all you said, or did you only wish to----” + +Bertollon rose, and said, “Colas! I trust you are discreet.” + +“But speak, Bertollon, pray speak! the court will pass sentence on your +wife to-day, let not innocence perish!” + +“Are you mad, Colas? Would you become the betrayer of your friend?” + +While stammering this he appeared in violent emotion. He turned pale, +and his lips became livid; his eyes stared vacantly. All proved too +certainly that he had confessed the previous night, in the excitement +of wine, circumstances at which he was now terrified, seeing they were +no longer safe in my keeping. + +I put my hand on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, “Bertollon! +dress, take money enough with you, and flee. I will manage the rest.” + +With a look threatening death, he asked, “Why?” + +“Fly, I say, while there is time.” + +“Why?” he replied, “Do you intend---- or have you, perhaps, already----” + +“By all that is dear and sacred to you, fly!” + +While I whispered these last words to him, he suddenly jumped up, +looked about the room as if searching for something, which made me +think he had forgotten in his consternation that his clothes lay near +the bed. While I stooped to give them to him he fired a pistol at me, +and the blood gushed down over my chest. + +The door was burst open, and the inspector of police entered in terror. +Bertollon still holding in one hand the pistol he had fired, and a +second in the other, looked aghast at the unexpected appearance. + +“Accursed dog!” he cried to me, with gestures of despair, and flung the +discharged pistol furiously at my head. Another shot +followed--Bertollon had shot himself. He reeled against me--I caught +him in my arms--his head was shattered. + +I became senseless, sank on the floor, and when I first recovered +consciousness, I found myself in my own room, with physicians and +servants busy about me. My wound, which was under the left shoulder, +was probed and dressed, but was not dangerous. + +All around me were in great consternation. Several of Bertollon’s +friends were near me, assailing me with questions. + +I dismissed them, and, when recovered, dressed myself and ordered a +sedan-chair to carry me to the assembled court. + +In the meanwhile Bertollon’s suicide had become known in the town. An +enormous concourse of people thronged his house, but when they learned +that I intended going to the court the curious crowd followed me. + +Sentence had already been passed on Madame Bertollon at a private +sitting of the court. The moment she was led into the hall to hear it +before the assembled multitude, I arrived. + +I begged a hearing as I had to make important disclosures. Permission +to speak was granted me. Amidst a silence as if death reigned, I said +to the judges: “My lords, once I stood here the accuser of innocence, I +now come to save her, and to prepare her for a well-deserved triumph. +I was deceived by the appearance of circumstances, deceived and abused +by my friend, and an accomplice in an act of cruelty without knowing +it. The unfortunate lady upon whom you are about to pronounce sentence +is not guilty of any crime.” + +I now distinctly stated the history of the previous night, Bertollon’s +suicide, and his attempt on my life. Beside me stood the +police-inspector as a witness, and lame Jacques, who recollected that +he had seen M. Bertollon the evening previous to the poison being +taken, coming from the apartment of his wife with a light. + +Such a termination to the trial in which I had at first achieved such a +splendid victory over my opponent Menard, and which was to found my +reputation in that country, no one had expected. During my speech +astonishment and horror were depicted on a thousand faces. But when I +stopped, a murmuring arose which swelled to loud exultation. My name +was shouted with enthusiastic joy, and the eyes of all were filled with +tears. + +All order was at an end: Madame Bertollon had sunk fainting amidst the +congratulations of those around. The vice-governor of the province, a +relation of the Mareschale Montreval, whom chance or curiosity brought +to the court, descended from his seat and embraced me. M. Menard +followed his example, amidst the shouts of the enthusiastic multitude. + +I was led to Madame Bertollon, my knees failed me, I sank down and +pressed her hand, which I bedewed with tears. + +“Can you forgive me?” I faltered. + +With a look full of excessive love and a heavenly smile, she looked +down on me. “Alamontade!” she sighed softly, but tears checked her +words. + +The court broke up and the judges embraced me. In vain I endeavoured +to find Madame Bertollon; the crowd was too great. I was led down the +steps of the court-house, through the dense mass which headed me, with +marks of honour. + +In the act of getting into my sedan, I was stopped by a well-dressed +young man saying, “Sir, you cannot possibly return with pleasant +feelings to a house which still contains the corpse of a suicide, and +which must remind you of the most horrible circumstances. Do me the +honour of allowing me to entertain you in the meanwhile in my own +house.” + +This invitation, urged with cordiality, was quite unexpected. Tears +still sparkled in the young man’s eyes, and he entreated me so +earnestly that I could not refuse. He pressed my hand with joyful +gratitude, gave orders to the bearers and disappeared. + +Followed by the acclamations of the multitude through the streets, I +proceeded but slowly, but at length arrived at the house of my unknown +friend. I only noticed that it was in the neighbourhood of Bertollon’s +house and in the street where Clementine lived, which could not be an +unpleasant discovery to me, though I was still confused and overcome. + +At the foot of the steps in the inner court, the sedan-chair was +opened. The friendly stranger awaited me; I saw myself in a large +splendid building, and was assisted up the marble stairs by two +servants. + +All that is terrible and pleasing in human life was compressed for me +into the narrow space of this one day. + +The folding-doors were opened, and some ladies advanced to receive me. +The eldest among them addressed me, saying, “I am much indebted to my +nephew for procuring me the honour of seeing the noble-minded deliverer +of innocence in my dwelling.” + +Who can describe my astonishment when I discovered this lady to be +Madame de Sonnes, and that Clementine was following her. I was about +to stammer something in reply to her kind reception, but was too much +exhausted. The loss of blood in the morning, after a night spent in +wakeful melancholy, and the various and extraordinary sensations to +which I had been exposed, had quite exhausted me. Clementine’s +appearance made me lose sight of all around me. I only saw her, only +spoke to her, until forms and colours were blended before my fading +sight in a confused chaos. + +For several weeks I kept my bed and room, a fever having been produced +by the sufferings from my wound. Young M. de Sonnes never left me; he +had all my property removed from Bertollon’s house; including the harp, +but not the wreath. They did not know of what value it was to me. + +In the meanwhile Madame Bertollon had been acquitted; and M. de Sonnes +told me that the fair sufferer had immediately left Montpellier, and +had gone into a distant convent. He likewise gave me a letter which +had been sent for me, under cover, to Madame de Sonnes, saying, “Madame +Bertollon probably wished us to thank her deliverer.” + +I took it with a trembling hand; as soon as I was alone I perused it, +and ever since it has accompanied me in weal and woe. Its contents are +as follows:-- + + +“Abbey St. G., at V----, + “May 11, 1762. + +“Farewell, Alamontade, these lines, the first I ever wrote to a man, +will be the last. I have left the stormy life of the great world; the +solemn stillness of sacred walls encloses me; I have been able to +disengage myself, without regret, from all that once was dear and +indispensable; I take nothing out of the world except the wounds which +it inflicted. + +“Ah! that I could have left these wounds, and the remembrance of the +past behind me. They cling to me to make my last friend, Death, the +more desirable. + +“In the bloom of life the black veil of widowhood encircles me; by it I +show to men a mourning which I feel not, and conceal that which +consumes me. + +“Yes, Alamontade, I do not blush even now, in this sacred spot, to +confess what I never wished to conceal from you, that I loved you. You +knew it. Alas! you still know it; and it was you who could point the +dagger to a heart which beat for you alone in this world. + +“Oh! Alamontade, you have deceived me. You never loved me. I was not +grieved at my unfortunate husband accusing me of the blackest crime. +No. But that you could believe me guilty, could become my accuser; +you, for whom I would cheerfully have died,--that has withered the very +root of my life. + +“But no; no reproaches. Noble, and still beloved, you were blameless. +Dazzled by appearances, you sacrificed feeling to friendship and your +sense of justice. You wished, at most, to be unhappy, not ungrateful. +I feel it fully; the wife of another dared not love you; and I, in my +sinful affection, was never worthy of your pure heart. I always felt +this, and my weakness was always at war with my inclination. No being +was more wretched than I; and each look from you, each kiss perpetuated +a flame which it ought to have extinguished. In a moment of despair I +wished for a voluntary death rather than the danger of losing my +virtue. Then I procured the poison which I had destined for myself, +because I loved you much too passionately. This is the secret which +shame would have prevented me from confessing upon the rack. Alas! +You, the source of my misfortune--it was you that interrogated me +before the judges. + +“You have never loved me, and my separation will never grieve you. I +had deceived myself, and must suffer for the devotion of my +unsuspecting heart. The world pities me, but its pity leaves me +without consolation; and even your compassion, my friend, aggravates my +pain instead of mitigating it. + +“Within these cloistered walls I see the end of my short pilgrimage; +the lime-tree before the grated window of my cell throws its shade upon +the little spot that will become my tomb. This is my consolation. + +“Ah! how melancholy to stand thus alone in the world! and I am alone, +for no one living loves me. My friends have forgotten me already in +their joyous circles, and my tears do not disturb their merriment. I +fade like the solitary flower of the mountain, unknown and unseen; it +gives and receives no joy; its disappearance leaves no trace behind. + +“And you, the only one I loved, receive these lines as a farewell. A +breaking heart breathed these words; a dying hand traced them. I do my +last duty. Do not disturb my peace by answering this. I shall not +receive any letter, and will never see you. I will pray to God for +your happiness; and my last sigh shall be for you; and, with the +remembrance of you, death shall lead me to a better life. + +“AMELIA BERTOLLON.” + + +I never saw the noble creature again. Perfectly virtuous, she sank. +But I never forgot her, and often shed tears to her memory. + +Madame de Sonnes and Clementine frequently visited me during my +illness, and treated me not like a stranger, but like a brother, or +near relative. + +Madame de Sonnes was a noble lady of lively temperament and superior +education. She never seemed to live for herself, but only for others; +being constantly anxious to afford pleasure and render some service, +she knew how to give to those, who were not above profiting by her +benevolence, the appearance of being her benefactors. Her kindness +always wore the stamp of gratitude. + +Clementine, the pride of the family, was quite worthy of her mother. +Perfect innocence and constant serenity formed her character, and no +one could approach her without loving her. I had never seen, never +fancied her so beautiful as now. Her smile was inspiring, her look +penetrated to the soul, her deportment was the _beau ideal_ of grace, +and she was distinguished above her friends by so much amiability that +she alone was unusually admired. Yet she was the most unassuming of +all; she knew nothing of all her excellence, and was delighted when she +discovered excellence in others. You could imagine that she had never +seen her own image reflected. + +I had never touched my harp since I had been with them; she also was +more reserved than when at a distance as formerly; she came less +frequently than any one else, spoke less to me than to others, and yet +was most solicitous about me, watching anxiously my minutest wish. +Only her eyes expressed her friendly feeling towards me. + +While my love for her increased to an unconquerable passion, a thousand +obstacles became more evident, which deprived me of all hope of ever +being made happy by her hand. I was poor, as I possessed nothing but a +good reputation and the confidence of all honest people. But how +little is that in the great world! I had, indeed, gained such general +reputation by Bertollon’s lawsuit, that the number of my clients +increased daily. Still how long had I to work before I could acquire a +fortune sufficient even to approach Clementine. I saw the lovely +creature every day, both at home and in the garden, sometimes alone and +sometimes in company. Oh! she might easily perceive how much I loved +her, for my silence and my converse, my approach and departure, were so +many betrayers of my heart. + +I became daily more embarrassed and uneasy. Absence from her was the +only remedy against inexpressible unhappiness. I came to the +resolution of taking a house for myself, and discovered my intention to +M. de Sonnes. Both he and his aunt opposed me in vain; I remained +immoveable to their wishes and entreaties. Clementine alone neither +appeared nor entreated, but she became more serious, and, as I thought, +more sad. + +“You are very cruel,” said Madame de Sonnes one day to me; “what have +we done to offend you, that you wish to punish us so severely? You +will take with you the peace of our house, until now so happy. We all +love you, leave us not, I beseech you.” + +All the reasons that I could state to justify my departure were +insufficient to satisfy her. The most important, indeed the only one, +I could not reveal, and she saw nothing but unconquerable caprice in my +refusal. + +“Well then,” she said at length, “we must, I suppose, resign ourselves +to your will; we are more indifferent to you than I thought. Why is it +not given to all to allow friendship to strike root in the heart just +deep enough to be plucked up without pain at any time?--Clementine will +some day be unhappy for this. I fear she will be quite ill.” + +These words pained me. I turned pale and trembled, faltering, +“Clementine suffer?” + +Without the least suspicion of what was passing in my mind, Madame de +Sonnes said, “Come with me to my room.” I followed; and on opening the +door, she said to her daughter: “He will not stay, you perhaps can +persuade him.” Finding myself alone with her, I approached her. + +What a beautiful picture of grief! It will never be effaced from my +memory. The terrors of endless misery which I have suffered in foreign +climes have not been able to deprive it of its charm and life. There +she sat in her plain attire, charming as a child of Eden; a fading +blossom of lilac hung from her head, peering forth by her simple veil, +as though it were a symbol of that which she most needed, repose. + +When I approached her, she looked up, and her kindly beaming eyes, +filled with tears, smiled upon me. I took her hand, and kneeling +before her, sighed, “Clementine!” + +She made no answer, nor did she smile. + +“Do you also wish me to stay? Only command me and I will joyfully +obey, even if I should become more unhappy.” + +“More unhappy?” she replied, with an anxious look; “Are you then +unhappy with us!” + +“You do not know that! You only wish to diffuse happiness around you; +but, Clementine, you accustomed me to a heaven too soon. If sooner or +later I should have to lose all, to lose your society (and such a time +might arrive, Clementine), how would it then be with me?” I asked, +while I pressed her hand against my throbbing heart. + +“If you never separate yourself from us we shall not lose you,” she +replied. + +“Would to heaven I might not leave you but in death,” I exclaimed. + +She looked towards heaven, sighed, and leaning forward, a burning tear +rolled on my hand. + +“Do you doubt the constancy of my friendship,” she said. + +“Have I a right to your friendship, Clementine, and this noble heart? +Alas! will it not some day beat more warmly for another? and then, +Clementine, then----” + +“Never! Alamontade,” she said, rising quickly, and turning away her +face, which was suffused with a gentle glow. I rose with ineffable +rapture, clasped her in my arms, her bosom heaving with strong emotion, +her cheeks glowing, and her looks expressing the words which her lips +refused to utter. + +Our souls were united, and made the everlasting compact. A trembling +sigh was our vow, the world vanished like a shadow, and in a kiss we +exchanged life for life. + +Oh! what bliss has the hand of the Almighty infused even in the dust, +and how much has it sweetened the lot of the spirit to be united with +the earthly. + +When we awoke from our pure rapture, and I could lisp Clementine’s +name, and she mine, all nature around was changed, and nothing was left +of the former world. Every thing shone more gloriously and +beautifully; the dull apartment resembled a temple, and a sweet spirit +spoke from every object--from the pictures and from the carpet. Even +the whispering of the trees was significant, and in the waving shadows +of the leaves there was a secret expression of delight. + +“I will remain,” I exclaimed. + +“And for ever,” she added. + +A few hours afterwards, when I saw Madame de Sonnes, I felt a slight +timidity; but she came to me with a smile, and said, “What changes have +you worked on Clementine? She is inspired. She speaks in verses. She +steps as light as a fairy. But what do I see, Alamontade? Why do you +blush? I am indebted to you. How shall I show my gratitude?” + +Saying this, she embraced me with great affection, adding, “You are a +noble man. I know well the dearest reasons you had for leaving us.” + +I was so confused that I could not reply. + +“Singular enough, that I, after all, was not to guess your secret. You +always wished to be the wiser, and so you are, Alamontade, but not this +time! Do you think that I did not perceive your love for Clementine? +Why did you make a secret of it to me, the mother of your beloved?” + +“Madame,----” I faltered, more confused. + +“I think you would, even now, deny it if you could,” she said, in a +pleasant tone. “I stood near you both when in the height of your +happiness, you neither saw me nor the world around; and then I felt +that I was not at all required to witness your betrothal. My daughter +lives for you, make her happy, and then I shall be so too.” + +What kindness! I sank at her feet, and kissed her hand without being +able to utter a word. + +“Not so,” she said, “a son must not kneel before his mother.” + +“Madame,” I exclaimed, “you give more than the most daring hopes +could----” + +“Not I,” she replied, “it is you, dear friend, who bring peace to our +house. I am indeed a mother, but I have no command over my daughter’s +heart. Clementine has known you longer than I. On your account she +has refused many offers; her hopes were centred in you. To complete +her happiness is my duty. Now I know you, I bless Clementine’s choice.” + +“This is too great kindness,” I said; “it was indeed my resolution, +some day, when my fortune should be adequate--but I am poor, Madame----” + +“What has fortune to do with this affair?” answered the noble lady, +“you have a respectable competency, and Clementine, beside having +property of her own, is my heiress. The cares of life cannot trouble +you; and should you ever, by any misfortune, lose all, you must +retrench; you possess knowledge, activity, and honesty: with these you +will always succeed.” + +In vain I stated several obstacles; she was above considering them +important. + +“No, sir,” she said, “that you loved Clementine without regard to +wealth I was well aware. And indeed the girl has sufficient worth of +her own to be loved for herself only. Your delicacy, dear friend, is +therefore not compromised; if you could aspire to her heart and conquer +it, truly you need not blush at her bringing you a rich dowry. The +heart which you possess is worth more than the paltry money to which +you fear to aspire, as if it were too much. My daughter cannot be +happier, if she marries with a man she does not love, though he has a +million. She will only be rendered happy by the mind, nobleness, true +love, and solicitude of her beloved.” + +“And--” said Clementine, bounding in with her charming simplicity, +taking my hand, and looking affectionately in the eyes of her kind +mother. + +“You have chosen well,” said Madame de Sonnes, embracing us both; “you +always are more solicitous for your mother’s happiness than for your +own.” + +Clementine was now my betrothed; the whole family treated me with the +greatest affection; I was looked upon as the beloved son, and possessed +the esteem of the whole town. I had attained my supreme object, and it +would be wearisome to describe the variety of my enjoyments. + +Letters had arrived from London to the Mareschale de Montreval, as +governor of the province, for my late father, together with the deeds +of a large inheritance left him by a brother who had died in the West +Indies. I hastened for a few days to Nismes to the mareschale by his +order. He only showed me the letter from the London banker and a copy +of the will, without being able to give me any further particulars. + +The property had been already remitted to the government of Languedoc +by draughts on the bank in Paris. This made me the possessor of an +annual income of 4000 livres. + +Although aware that one of my uncles, in his early days, had gone to +America, from whence no news had ever arrived, I could scarcely believe +that he had saved so large a fortune. Moreover the obscurity which +enveloped several points requisite to be known in the account from +London, inspired me with some suspicion as to this unexpected wealth, +considered as an inheritance, though it appeared to me too large for a +present. I wrote both to the London banker and the magistrate of the +province in America, where my uncle was reported to have died; but +never discovered more than I knew already. Hence I could not help +thinking that Madame Bertollon had more to do with the inheritance than +my uncle. + +The mareschale appeared almost angry at my scruples. “Enjoy your +undisputed property and have a dozen masses for uncle,” he said; “and +that you may not live altogether idle on your property, come to me and +accept the first situation in my office. One condition, however, I +must make, viz: that you live in my palace. I must see you daily, my +affairs are numerous, and your advice will be valuable to me.” + +I thanked the mareschale for this honourable distinction, and only +asked time for consideration before accepting a situation to which my +attainments were not adequate. He overwhelmed me with civilities, and +dismissed me with kindly menaces in case I did not soon resolve to +comply with his wishes. + +M. Etienne, my good old uncle, was elated with joy when he heard of the +mareschale’s offer to me. + +“When you, Colas, came to me as a boy, in your smock-frock and wooden +shoes, and so stood before me in your poverty, I was then touched in my +heart, and heard, as it were, the voice of the spirit within me, +commanding me to adopt you, because you would one day be the guardian +angel of the oppressed believers. Behold, Colas, the Lord has done +great things for you; you now stand again on the same spot of the poor +miller’s house, and are a highly honoured, learned, and rich man. +Hesitate no longer to accept the offer of the mareschale. It is not +his will, no, it is the will of God; it is not his calling, but it is +the call of Heaven, which comes to you to afford comfort to the gospel +Christians.” + +My uncle and his amiable family (in whose circle one daughter was +missing, having been married), as well as his friends, who were all +secret Protestants, did not desist in their most urgent remonstrances +with me to accept the situation. I was obliged partly to promise that +I would accept it; but it was still important to consult Clementine and +her mother on the subject. + +I had no sooner made the mareschale’s proposal known to them, than both +were at once agreed that I must not let slip an opportunity which +promised me a larger sphere of activity. + +“We will both accompany you to Nismes,” said Clementine; “you will no +doubt remember the amphitheatre and the house of Albertas?--but to live +with the mareschale--no, that will not do, you must refuse that +politely.” + +And so it happened; we went together to Nismes, I entered on my +situation, and I was permitted to find recreation in Clementine’s +society. + +Wealth, authority, and influence over the affairs of the province, +prepared for me the happiest lot man could imagine. Friendship and +love completed my felicity; but in the picture of my life, at that +period, there was almost too much light, too little shade, and all +became a bright, rosy monotony. + +The death of Clementine’s grandfather occasioned a family mourning, and +our union was postponed, out of respect, for six months. But this +could not darken our happiness; we saw each other daily, and nothing in +the world could separate us. + +During the first few months the Mareschale de Montreval treated me with +marked favour. Still I could not prevail upon myself to approach him +with confidence, or to return his kind sentiments with equal +cordiality. His affable demeanour had something terrible in it, and in +his smile there was always something threatening. He was a man of +genius and judgment, but yet beclouded by prejudices which were sacred +to him, and which were probably owing to his monkish education in his +early life. Enervated by former excesses, he was sickly, fearful of +death, tormented by dark imaginations and suspicions. He never +scrupled to commit the most arbitrary acts, to be severe even to +cruelty, and to sacrifice the welfare of many to his caprice; but at +the same time he professed to be very religious. The monks were his +favourite associates, and ruled him without his suspecting it. He +never neglected a mass, and passed for a most devout man. He seldom +smiled, was generally grave and cold; and there was something +commanding in his calm demeanour. The more I knew him, the more I +privately disliked him. A man like Bertollon, without religion, +without God, without eternity, and without moral principles, who, +acting only on the suggestions of prudence, could see with an egotist +smile a whole despairing world sink for his gain, is not more +atrocious, not more dangerous, than a man of the world, filled with +bigotry, like Montreval. The atheist and bigot, who do not acknowledge +moral principles and eternal right, weigh equally in the scale of +morals, and are equally poisonous to society. Both without feeling for +the true dignity of man, without regard for humanity, spin their subtle +web between the relations of society, and rob and kill with honour. +Neither fear God, for the one does not believe in him, the other tries +to appease his wrath with prayers and masses, and in the temple +cleanses himself of the sins which he has committed without. + +Even during the first days of my residence in Nismes, I was surrounded +by a holy troop of monks, who feared my influence on the mareschale as +being hostile to their views. But they perceived how little I cared +for this influence, and gradually left me to myself. They, however, +continued very friendly, praised my character to the mareschale, and +ended by expressing their pity I was a man without religion. + +The Protestants of Nismes looked upon me as their leader and protector. +They showed me extravagant honours, which could not fail to excite the +suspicion of the mareschale, even if he had been less suspicious than +he was. They became bolder in their words and deeds. More than once I +succeeded in obtaining his pardon for their inconsiderate acts; but +instead of being warned by such occurrences, their fanaticism, in +frequent combat with their persecutors, and a secret confidence in my +protection, only rose higher, and it was in vain for me to represent to +them the danger which they wantonly prepared for themselves. + +“No!” cried M. Etienne, my uncle; “no, where God is, there is no +danger. Oh! Colas, be not afraid of men, for the Lord is with you. +‘He who confesses me before men, him will I also confess before my +Father,’ says the Saviour of the world. In France, the gospel grain of +mustard-seed will spring up, as on the mountains of Switzerland and in +the forests of Germany; but we want men like Zuinglius, Calvin, and +Luther, who do not tremble before the princes of this world. And you, +Alamontade, be like them, and God will be your strong fortress.” + +Once, when I was again obliged to intercede for the Protestants, the +mareschale asked me, with a penetrating glance, “You are not a heretic, +I hope?” He refused my solicitations, and from that time became more +reserved towards me. + +I perceived how little good I could do under existing circumstances, +but, on the contrary, how injurious my presence in Nismes, my office, +and the false notion of my influence must be to the followers of +Calvin, who relied upon me with too much confidence. This brought me +to the resolution of requesting my discharge; but Madame de Sonnes and +Clementine prevented me from doing so by their entreaties until the +winter had passed. The mareschale was in Montpellier, and his absence +rendered me happier, but the Protestants still more daring. + +On the Palm Sunday of the year 1703, the mareschale, who had recently +returned from Montpellier, invited me to a banquet in his castle, and +though not feeling quite well I determined on going. + +In the morning I said smiling to Clementine, “To-morrow I shall ask for +my discharge, and whatever your mother may say, it must be done +to-morrow, and then, Clementine!----” + +“And then?”---- she asked. + +“We will no longer delay our union. We may now rejoice with propriety +since you have this day left off your black dress. Therefore in a week +you will be my wife. And then,” I continued, “we will leave this +melancholy Nismes, and go to our new estate near Montpellier. Spring +is coming with its beauty; we must live amid rural nature.” + +And this was resolved on, and sealed by a kiss. + +At this moment I was called out. I quitted the room; I found that my +uncle had come, and requested a private interview in my own apartment. + +“Colas,” said he, “this is Palm Sunday, and you must come with me.” + +“I cannot,” was my reply, “for I am invited to dine with the +mareschale.” + +“And I,” said he, with solemn voice. “I invite you to the holy supper. +No grandee of this earth will there sit at table with us, but we shall +be assembled in Jesus’ name, and he will be in the midst of us. All of +us, some hundreds in number, with our wives and children, celebrate +this morning the holy sacrament in my mill near the Carmelite gate.” + +I was terrified, and exclaimed: “What presumption! Do you not know +that the mareschale is in Nismes?” + +“We know it, and the Almighty God is there also.” + +“Will you then designedly plunge yourselves into misery and a dungeon? +The law forbids most strictly all meetings of this kind, and threatens +death.” + +“What law? The law of the mortal king? Thou shalt obey God rather +than man.” + +In this way my uncle knew how to surmount all my objections, by +biblical quotations, and the more I urged the unlawfulness and danger +of such meetings, and the more vividly I described the probable +consequences, the more zealous he became. + +“When Jesus was betrayed,” he exclaimed, “and when the traitor stood +near him, and when he knew they were preparing to take him, then, oh! +Colas, surrounded by the danger of certain death, he instituted the +holy sacrament. And should we, who would be the disciples of Jesus, +tremble? No, never; if all hell were in arms it should not terrify us.” + +I could not bring my uncle to his senses; he called me an apostate, a +hypocrite, a papist, and left me in a rage. + +I returned to Clementine. She had seen my uncle, and the vexation +expressed in all his gestures; she inquired the cause which I dared not +disclose to her. Amidst her innocent caresses, my fear and uneasiness +gradually left me. She told me that her mother agreed to all my +wishes; this cheered me still more. On Clementine’s bosom I dreamed of +the peaceful happiness of the future. + +Withdrawn from the tumult of the world and its passions, I proposed to +live alone with my young wife, surrounded by blooming nature, by love +and friendship, and in the pursuit of science. + +How happy we were both in these moments! “Oh! Clementine,” said I, “no +throne is indeed required to make others happy, but only the will. We +may be useful even in a small and insignificant sphere. We will visit +the abodes of poverty. I shall again defend the cause of accused +innocence, and a kiss shall be my reward when I have succeeded in +accomplishing any good. Our library furnishes an inexhaustible store +for the mind, and our harp shall sound in the evening, to record the +unenvied felicity of two loving souls in the shade of our own grove. +The poor shall eat at our table, and those consoled in their griefs +shall be our companions. Surely, Clementine, we shall never yearn for +the cold splendour of this palace. And some day, you, Clementine--the +mere thought vibrates rapture through me--some day, Clementine, you +will be a mother. Mother! oh, Clementine!”--Her kisses interrupted my +words. + +At this moment my servant entered pale as death and breathless. + +“What is the matter with you?” I asked. + +“Sir,” he faltered, “the Calvinists have met for their interdicted +worship in the mill of M. Etienne near the Carmelite gate.” + +I was much alarmed. Lo, then, it was betrayed. “And what else,” I +cried. + +“The mill is surrounded by dragoons, and all within are prisoners. +Only think, the Mareschale de Montreval is there himself. The preacher +and a few others of the secured heretics endeavoured to escape through +the window, but the mareschale gave the signal, and the dragoons fired.” + +“Fired?” I cried. “Was any one killed?” + +“Four of them lie dead on the spot,” was the servant’s reply. + +Without asking any further questions, I took my hat and stick. +Clementine wept and trembled; she would not let me leave her, turned +pale, and clung speechless and in great anguish round my neck. + +Madame de Sonnes came in. I told her of this frightful occurrence, and +that I was resolved to hasten there in order to move the mareschale to +humanity. She praised my resolution, entreating me to fly thither +without delay, and spoke consoling words to Clementine. + +As I departed, I looked back, and saw Clementine pale and trembling in +her mother’s arms. I returned, kissed her pale lips, and hastened away. + +When I reached the gate, I had to force my way through a throng of +people who stood crowded together, gaping with mingled curiosity, +terror, joy, and expectation. + +With cold shuddering I beheld above the crowd the glittering arms of +the dragoons, who surrounded, three deep, my beloved uncle’s mill. +High above all I saw the mareschale on horseback, surrounded by +noblemen; he seemed grave and thoughtful. + +“My lord!” I exclaimed, when I reached him. + +He turned round on hearing me, looked at me, and pointing with his +stick to the mill, said, without changing a feature, “The wretches! +Now they are caught.” + +“What do you intend doing, my lord?” I asked. + +“I have been considering for the last quarter of an hour.” + +“Oh! my lord,” I said; “it is true these infatuated men have broken the +laws, but truly they are more the objects of your contempt than your +wrath. Be magnanimous, my lord, and the transgressors will fall at +your feet in repentance, and never again----” + +“What!” interrupted the mareschale, “these men are incorrigible. They +are rebels, furious, audacious rebels. Am I to let this accursed weed +luxuriate until it can perpetrate a second Michelade?”[2] + +“No, my lord,” I said, seizing his hand, which was hanging down; “you +are too just to attribute to these unfortunate persons cruelties which +happened nearly a century and a half ago.” + +“It is time to set a severe example,” said the mareschale, who to this +moment had been undecided. He withdrew his hand, rode a few paces +forward without further noticing me, and cried, with a loud voice, +“Fire the mill!” + +Cold with terror, I staggered after him, seized the reins of his horse, +and cried, “For God’s sake mercy, mercy.” + +“Begone,” he cried, casting a furious look at me, and flourishing his +stick as if he would strike me. I let go the horse and fell upon my +knees before this cold-blooded demon, crying, “Mercy!” + +I heard the crackling and hissing of the flames, saw the thick clouds +of smoke rolling over the roof of the mill, and then heard the horrible +cries of those enclosed within. I sprang up again and clasped the +mareschale’s knees, but God only knows what I cried to him in my +anguish. He heard me not, he had no humanity; the pious tiger only +looked upon the burning mill. + +Soon my voice was drowned amidst the wild roar around, the cries of +those consigned to death, and the thunder of the carabines. Those who +endeavoured to escape the flames were shot down by the dragoons. + +I started up and ran to the mill. At this moment a girl threw herself +from the window. I caught her in my arms; it was Antonia my uncle’s +youngest daughter. + +“You are saved, Antonia,” said I, carrying away the poor creature +through the smoke and fire, and came up, without knowing it, to the +mareschale. + +“The dog!” he cried, “I always said he was one of them!” I knew not he +spoke of me. + +“Down with them!” he shouted again. Two dragoons tore the fainting +girl from my arms, and while she lay on the ground these ruffians shot +the innocent creature at my feet. + +“It serves the cursed heretics right!” said the mareschale calmly, +close behind me. + +“Oh! you atrocious monster! how will you answer for this deed before +your and our king,--before your and our God?” I cried, foaming with +rage. + +He galloped up to me, gave me a blow on my head with his stick, and +rode over me. Half stunned, I imagined he had given orders to kill me. +I started up and snatched a carabine from the hands of a dragoon to +defend my life. No one dared to lay hands on me, in spite of the +mareschale’s exclaiming repeatedly, “Secure him! secure him!” + +While looking around me with consternation, I beheld--oh! horrible +sight--I beheld my uncle with blood streaming from his head, standing +over the corpse of Antonia; I only recognised him by his figure and +clothing. He uttered a frightful shriek towards heaven, and sank +amidst musket shots over the body of his beloved child. + +I was going to address the mareschale, but my tongue was paralysed. +Raising my eyes and my arm with the musket to heaven, I received a +blow, and sank down perfectly insensible. + +Until then, I had still preserved my faith in humanity, and blindly +devoted myself to this belief. Impressed with the best works of the +greatest minds of our time, I had lulled myself into happy illusions. +I had believed mankind much more humane and freer from the bonds of +barbarism. Indeed, I was the subject of the most lauded monarch of the +world, and France called the reign of Louis XIV. her Golden Age. Alas! +Montreval was one of his governors, and the Palm Sunday of 1703, a day +of that Golden Age. About 200 men were burnt alive and shot on that +day, and even the infant on its mother’s breast was not spared. All +the property of the murdered was confiscated, and Montreval’s cruelty +was crowned with laurels by the royal hand. + +When I had recovered my consciousness and could discover the objects +around, I found myself among strangers, and my wounded head bandaged. +Now and then, during my insensibility, I felt pain, and dimly perceived +that people were employed about me; but this consciousness soon left +me, and I relapsed again into stupor as into a heavy sleep. + +“By my faith thou hast a tough life.” These were the first words I +heard, as they were uttered by a dirty old fellow, who was standing by +me offering medicine. + +I did not see Clementine. I was in a narrow chamber, on a hard, coarse +bed. + +“Where am I then?” I asked. + +“Thou art with me,” said the fellow. I now, for the first time, +remembered the fatal event to which I owed my present situation. + +“Am I then a prisoner?” + +“To be sure, and quite right too!” answered my keeper. + +“Does Madame de Sonnes know of this? Has she not sent here? May I not +see her?” + +“Dost thou know any one here? Where does she live?” + +“In the Rue de Martin. The house Albertas.” + +“Thou fool! there is no Rue de Martin in all Marseilles. Thou art +still feverish, I think, or dost thou not know that thou art in +Marseilles?” + +“In Marseilles? What, in Marseilles am I? Am I not in Nismes? How +long have I been here?” + +“May be three weeks. I can easily believe that thou, poor devil, dost +not know of it. Thou hast been raving in a burning fever till last +night. Thou must have a strong constitution. We thought we should +have to bury thee to-day.” + +“What am I to do here?” + +“When thou art recovered thou wilt put on that dress; dost thou know +it?” + +“That is a galley slave’s dress. What? pray tell me, am I then--I +will--I cannot believe--have I been sentenced?” + +“Perhaps so; only for twenty-nine years to the oars, as they say.” + +The fellow spoke too truly. As soon as I recovered, my terrible +sentence was announced to me. I was condemned to punishment in the +galleys for twenty-nine years, for menaces, and murderous attempts on +the life of the Mareschale de Montreval; also for the crime of being a +secret Protestant, and for having committed sundry peculations, for the +benefit of the heretics, in the office where I had influence, by virtue +of my situation. + +I sighed, yet conscious of my innocence, put on the dress without pain. +My tears flowed only for the fate of Clementine. I endeavoured to send +her a few lines, which I wrote as a farewell, on a scrap of paper, with +a pencil I borrowed. But alas! I was too poor to bribe my keeper; he +took the paper, read it, and laughing, tore it to pieces, saying, +“There is no post for love letters here.” + +I was now put in chains, and led, together with some companions in +misfortune, to the galley appointed for us in the harbour. It was a +beautiful evening, and the city displayed its splendour in the radiance +of the setting sun. Amidst the dark green of the sloping mountains +surrounding the harbour, which was crowded with the vessels of all +nations, glistened innumerable snow-white villas, and between the +almond and olive trees of the Bastides, waved a thousand silken +pennons, displaying all the colours of the rainbow; while through the +mouth of the harbour, the view was lost in the immeasurable expanse of +the ocean. + +The splendour of this spectacle dazzled me, and filled me with +melancholy. The shores of my native land seemed to display all their +glory, only to make me feel more vividly what I had lost. All around +breathed joy, I only was for ever joyless, and I saw no limits to my +misery, except on the brink of the distant grave. + +I passed the night sleepless; with the early dawn our galley left the +harbour and when the sun arose above the ruddy waves, I lost sight of +Marseilles. I and five other slaves were chained to the oars. + +What a fate! To be for ever separated from all the friends and +playmates of my youth,--to be separated alas! from thee, Clementine, +cast from the lap of wealth upon the hard bench, forgotten by all the +happy, dishonoured, and among malefactors, to hear now, instead of +Clementine’s delightful conversation, only the curses and ribaldry of +low thieves, murderers, smugglers, and robbers;--to be without books, +without information as to the progress of science, my mind left the +prey of itself, without hope;--to hear the terrible clanking of my +chains instead of the magic of music and Clementine’s harp! Surely, +death itself is not so bitter as this dreadful change. + +“But I will bear it,” said I to myself; “there is a God, and my spirit +knows its divine origin. I have not lost myself. I shall remain +faithful to virtue, and though mistaken by the world, I carry with me +across the sea the esteem which innocent souls feel for themselves. I +have only been compelled to forsake that which was not my own, and what +I suffer is but the pain of a body which hitherto has not been +accustomed to deny itself.” + +Thus my mind, after one year had passed, obtained the victory; thus did +I live the greater part of my life, joyless, and in solitude. I have +grown old in misfortune, and have never again heard any thing of those +who once loved me. The only cheerful feelings I have had were when, in +my leisure hours, I could write down my thoughts, and look back with +tears on the long passed paradise of my youth. Often during the +monotonous sound of the oars, grief recalled to my mind the visions of +the happy past. Then it seemed as if Clementine floated on the waves +of the sea, and encouraged me with her smiles, like an angel of +consolation. I gazed with moistened eyes at the beloved vision, and +felt all the wounds of my heart again opened. Still I despaired not, +but rowed cheerfully on. + +I should sometimes have taken all the felicities of my youth as the +effect of imagination, had not the melancholy farewell letter which +Madame Bertollon had written from the convent, by some chance remained +with me. I preserved it with veneration, as the last sacred remnant of +what I formerly possessed. I often read it in distant seas, and on the +burning coasts of Africa; and I always drew from it unspeakable +consolation, and rowed cheerfully onwards, nearer and nearer to the end +of my life. + +Thus nine-and-twenty years have now elapsed. What are they? + +Death, my ardently wished for friend comes to release me. Ah! sir, you +have shown much compassion for me in making the last hours of my life +so sweet. Our minds are congenial, and will, perhaps, meet again. + + * * * * * + +[The preceding narrative, according to the author, is related to some +friends by the Abbé Dillon, who was with Alamontade the last days of +his life, after his liberation from the galleys. + +Shortly before his death, Alamontade learns that Clementine is still +living, and is much delighted to hear that she has remained faithfully +attached to him. His only wish and consolation now is, that his days +may be prolonged till she arrives; but she does not come till the day +after his death; aged and infirm herself, she soon follows him to the +grave. + +The whole of Alamontade is divided into two books in the original, the +first containing Zschokhe’s[3] views on religion and moral philosophy. +The following are the author’s prefatory remarks: + +“The following narrative was composed during the winter of 1801-2, at +Berne, where the author having retired from public affairs, wished to +devote his leisure hours to some useful purpose, having, by frequent +intercourse become acquainted with many of those diseased minds who, +being entangled in doubts, have lost their God and the joys of life. +He therefore was desirous of making an attempt to raise again in them a +holy faith and courage for virtue. He was inspired by the affecting +dream of one night; it was an angelic but transient vision, which he in +vain endeavoured to hold fast. However imperfect the original +narrative was, yet it went through four editions during the first ten +years after its appearance. This circumstance makes the author believe +that he has not altogether failed in his object.”] + +C. A. F. + + +[1] One of the most lovely walks near Montpellier. + +[2] The Calvinists in Nismes had, in the night after Michaelmas day, +1567, murdered in their fanatic rage, about thirty magistrates, deans, +and monks. This slaughter gave rise to the word _Michelade_. + +[3] It will be remembered that he is the author of _Die Stunden der +Andacht_. + + + + +THE JESUITS’ CHURCH IN G----. + +BY E. T. W. HOFFMANN. + +Packed up in a wretched post-chaise, which the moths had left from +instinct--as the rats left Prospero’s vessel--I at last, after a +break-neck journey, stopped half dislocated, at the inn in the G---- +market-place. All the possible misfortune that might have befallen me +had lighted on my carriage, which lay, shattered, with the postmaster +at the last stage. Four skinny, jaded horses, after a lapse of many +hours, dragged up the crazy vehicle, with the help of several peasants +and my own servant; knowing folks came up, shook their heads, and +thought that a thorough repair, which might occupy two, or even three +days would be necessary. The place seemed to me agreeable, the country +pretty, and yet I felt not a little horror-struck at the delay with +which I was threatened. If, gentle reader, you were ever compelled to +stop three days in a little town, where you did not know a soul, but +were forced to remain a stranger to every body, and if some deep pain +did not destroy the inclination for social converse, you will be able +to appreciate my annoyance. In words alone does the spirit of life +manifest itself in all around us; but the inhabitants of your small +towns are like a secluded orchestra, which has worked into its own way +of playing and singing by hard practice, so that the tone of the +foreigner is discordant to their ears, and at once puts them to +silence. I was walking up and down my room, in a thorough ill-humour, +when it at once struck me that a friend at home, who had once passed +two years at G----, had often spoken of a learned, clever man, with +whom he had been intimate. His name, I recollected, was Aloysius +Walter, professor at the Jesuits’ college. I now resolved to set out, +and turn my friend’s acquaintance to my own advantage. They told me at +the college that Professor Walter was lecturing, but would soon have +finished, and as they gave me the choice of calling again or waiting in +the outer rooms, I chose the latter. The cloisters, colleges, and +churches of the Jesuits are everywhere built in that Italian style +which, based upon the antique form and manner, prefers splendour and +elegance to holy solemnity and religious dignity. In this case the +lofty, light, airy halls were adorned with rich architecture and the +images of saints, which were here placed against the walls, between +Ionic pillars, were singularly contrasted by the carving over the +doorways, which invariably represented a dance of genii, or fruit and +the dainties of the kitchen. + +The professor entered--I reminded him of my friend, and claimed his +hospitality for the period of my forced sojourn in the place. I found +him just as my friend had described him; clear in his discourse, +acquainted with the world, in short, quite in the style of the higher +class priest, who has been scientifically educated, and peeping over +his breviary into life, has often sought to know what is going on +there. When I found his room furnished with modern elegance, I +returned to my former reflections in the halls, and uttered them to the +professor aloud. + +“You are right,” said he, “we have banished from our edifices that +gloomy solemnity, that strange majesty of the crushing tyrant, who +oppresses our bosoms in Gothic architecture, and causes a certain +unpleasant sensation, and we have very properly endowed our works with +the lively cheerfulness of the ancients.” + +“But,” said I, “does not that sacred dignity, that lofty majesty of +Gothic architecture which seems, as it were, striving after Heaven, +proceed from the true spirit of Christianity, which, supersensual +itself, is directly opposed to that sensual spirit of the antique world +which remains in the circle of the earthly?” + +The professor smiled: “The higher kingdom,” said he, “should be +recognised in this world, and this recognition can be awakened by +cheerful symbols, such as life--nay, the spirit which descends from +that kingdom into earthly life--presents. Our home is above, but while +we dwell here, our kingdom is of this world also.” + +“Ay,” thought I, “in every thing that you have done you have indeed +shown that your kingdom is of this world--nay, of this world only;” but +I did not communicate my thoughts to Professor Aloysius Walter, who +proceeded thus: + +“What you say of the magnificence of our buildings in this place can +only refer properly to the pleasant appearance of the form. Here, +where we cannot afford marble, and great masters in painting will not +work for us, we are--in conformity with the modern fashion--obliged to +make use of substitutes. If we get as high as polished plaster we have +done a great deal, and our different kinds of marble are often nothing +more than the work of the painter. This is the case in our church, +which, thanks to the liberality of our patrons, has been newly +decorated.” + +I expressed a desire to see the church; the professor led me down, and +when I entered the Corinthian colonnade, which formed the nave of the +church, I felt the pleasing--too pleasing impression of the graceful +proportions. To the left of the principal altar a lofty scaffolding +had been erected, upon which a man stood, who was painting over the +walls in the antique style. + +“Now! how are you going on, Berthold?” cried the professor. + +The painter turned round to us, but immediately proceeded with his +work, saying in an indistinct, and almost inaudible voice: “Great deal +of trouble--crooked, confused stuff--no rule to make use +of--beasts--apes--human faces--human faces--miserable fool that I am!” + +These last words he cried aloud in a voice, that nothing but the +deepest agony working in the soul could produce. I felt strangely +affected;--these words, the expression of face, the glance which he had +previously cast at the professor, brought before my eyes the whole +struggling life of an unfortunate artist. The man could have been +scarcely more than forty years old; his form, though disfigured by the +unseemly, dirty costume of a painter, had something in it indescribably +noble, and deep grief could only discolour his face, but could not +extinguish the fire that sparkled in his black eyes. I asked the +professor for particulars respecting this painter: “He is a foreign +artist,” was the reply, “who came here just at the time when the repair +of the church had been resolved upon. He undertook the work we offered +him with pleasure, and indeed his arrival was for us a stroke of good +fortune, since neither here, nor for a great distance round, could we +find a painter so admirably fitted for all that we require. Besides, +he is the most good-natured creature in the world, and we all love him +heartily; for that reason he got on well in our college. Beside giving +him a considerable salary for his work, we board him, which, by the +way, does not entail a very heavy burden upon us, for he is abstemious +almost to excess, though perhaps it may accord with the weakness of his +constitution. + +“But,” said I, “he seemed to-day so peevish--so irritable.” + +“That,” replied the professor, “is owing to a particular cause. But +let us look at some fine pictures on the side altars, which by a lucky +chance we obtained some time ago. There is only a single original--a +Dominichino--among them, the rest are by unknown masters of the Italian +school; but if you are free from prejudice, you will be forced to +confess that every one of them might bear the most celebrated name.” + +I found it was exactly as the professor had said. Strangely enough, +the only original was one of the weakest--if not the very, weakest of +the collection, while the beauty of many of the anonymous pictures had +for me an irresistible charm. The picture on one of the altars was +covered up, and I asked the cause of this: “This picture,” said the +professor, “is the finest that we possess,--it is the work of a young +artist of modern times--certainly his last, for his flight is checked. +At this time we are obliged, for certain reasons, to cover it up, but +to-morrow, or the day after, I shall perhaps be in a condition to show +it you.” + +I wished to make further inquiries, but the professor hurried swiftly +through the passage, and that was enough to show his unwillingness to +answer more. We went back to the college, and I readily accepted the +invitation of the professor, who wished me, in the afternoon, to go +with him to some public gardens in the neighbourhood. We returned home +late, a storm had risen, and I had scarcely reached my dwelling than +the rain began to pour down. About midnight the sky cleared up, and +the thunder only murmured in the distance. Through the open windows +the warm air, laden with scents, entered the room, and though I was +weary I could not resist the temptation to take a walk. I succeeded in +waking the surly man-servant, who had been snoring for about two hours; +and in showing him that there was no madness in walking at midnight. +Soon I found myself in the street. When I passed the Jesuits’ church, +I was struck by the dazzling light that beamed through a window. The +little side-door was ajar, so I entered and saw a wax-taper burning +before a niche. When I had come nearer, I observed that before this +niche a pack-thread net had been spread, behind which a dark form was +running up and down the ladder, and seemed to be designing something on +the niche. It was Berthold, who was accurately tracing the shadow of +the net with black colour. On a tall easel, by the ladder, stood the +drawing of an altar. I was much struck at the ingenious contrivance. +If, gentle reader, you are in the least acquainted with the noble art +of painting, you will once know, without further explanation, the use +of the net, the shadow of which Berthold was sketching. Berthold was +about to paint a projecting altar on the niche, and that he might make +a large copy of the small drawing with due correctness, he was obliged +to put a net, in the usual manner, over both the sketch and the surface +on which the sketch was to be completed. In this instance he had to +paint not on a flat surface but on a semicircular one; and the +correspondence of the squares which the curved lines of the net formed +on the concave surface, with the straight ones of the sketch, together +with accuracy in the architectural proportions which were to be brought +forward in perspective, could not be otherwise obtained than by that +simple and ingenious contrivance. I was cautious enough not to step +before the taper, lest I might betray myself by my shadow, but I stood +near enough to his side to observe the painter closely. He appeared to +me quite another man. Perhaps it was the effect of the taper, but his +face had a good colour, his eyes sparkled with internal satisfaction, +and when he had completed the lines he placed himself before the +screen, with his hands resting on his sides, and looking at his work, +whistled a merry tune. He now turned round, and tore down the net. +Suddenly he was struck by my figure, and cried aloud: + +“Halloah! halloah! is that you, Christian?” + +I went up to him, explained how I had been attracted into the church, +and praising the ingenious contrivance of the net, gave him to +understand that I was but a connoisseur and practiser of the noble art +of painting. Without making me any further answer, Berthold said: + +“Christian is neither more nor less than a sluggard. He was to have +kept with me faithfully through the whole night, and now he is +certainly snoring somewhere! I must get on with my work, for probably +it will be bad to paint here on the screen to-morrow--and yet I can do +nothing by myself.” + +I offered my assistance, upon which he laughed aloud, laid hold of both +my shoulders, and cried: + +“That is a capital joke! What will Christian say, when he finds +to-morrow that he is an ass, and that I have done without him? So, +come hither, stranger, help me to build a little.” + +He lit several tapers, we ran through the church, pulled together a +number of blocks and planks, and a lofty scaffold was soon raised +within the screen. + +“Now hand up quickly,” cried Berthold, as he ascended. + +I was astonished at the rapidity with which Berthold made a large copy +of the drawing; he drew his lines boldly, and always clearly and +correctly, without a single fault. Having been accustomed to such +matters in my early youth, I was of good service to him, for standing, +now above him, now below him, I fixed the long rulers at the points he +indicated, and held them fast, pointed the charcoal, and handed it to +him, and so on. + +“You are a capital assistant,” cried Berthold, quite delighted. + +“And you,” I retorted, “are one of the best architectural painters +possible. But tell me, have you applied your bold, ready hand to no +sort of painting but this?--Pardon the question.” + +“What do you mean?” said Berthold. + +“Why, I mean,” replied I, “that you are fit for something better than +painting church walls with marble pillars. Architectural painting is, +after all, something subordinate; the historical painter, the landscape +painter, stands infinitely higher. With them, mind and fancy, no +longer confined to the narrow limits of geometrical lines, take a +higher flight. Even the only fantastic part of your painting, that +perspective, which deceives the senses, depends upon accurate +calculation, and the result therefore is the product not of genius, but +of mathematical speculation.” While I was speaking thus, the painter +laid aside his pencil, and rested his head on his hand. + +“Friend stranger,” he began, in a solemn, indistinct voice, “thou +speakest profanely, when thou endeavourest to arrange the different +branches of art according to rank, like the vassals of some proud king. +And still more profane is it, when thou only esteemest those +presumptuous fools who, being deaf to the clang of the fetters that +enslave them, and being without feeling for the pressure of the earthy, +wish to think themselves free--yea, even to be gods--and to rule light +and life after their own fashion. Dost thou know the fable of +Prometheus, who wished to be a creator, and stole fire from heaven to +animate his lifeless figures? He succeeded; the forms stalked living +along, and from their eyes beamed forth that heavenly fire that burned +within them; but the impious being, who had dared to attempt the +divine, was condemned to fearful, endless torment, without redemption. +The heart which had felt the divine, in which the desire after the +unearthly had awakened, was torn by the vulture, to which revenge had +given birth, and which now fed upon the vitals of the presumptuous one. +He who has attempted the heavenly, feels earthly pain for ever.” + +The painter stood absorbed in his own reflections. + +“Berthold,” I exclaimed, “what has all this to do with your art? I do +not think that any one can deem it presumption to present the human +form, either by painting or sculpture.” + +“Um, ha,” laughed Berthold, in wild derision; “child’s play is no +presumption. It is all child’s play with those folks, who comfortably +dip their pencils into colour-pots, and daub a canvass with the +veritable desire of producing human beings; but it always turns out as +if some drudge of nature had undertaken to make men, as it stands in +that tragedy, and had failed. Such as those are no presumptuous +sinners, but poor innocent fools. But if one strives to attain the +highest, not the mere sensual, like Titian--no, the highest in divine +nature, the Promethean spark in man--that is a precipice--a narrow edge +on which we stand--the abyss is open! The bold sailor soars above him, +and a devilish deceit lets him perceive _that_ below, which he wished +to see above the stars.” The painter uttered a deep sigh, passed his +hand over his forehead, and then looked upwards. “But why do I talk +all this mad stuff to you, comrade, and leave off painting? Look here, +mate, this is what I call well and honestly drawn. How noble is the +rule! All the lines combine to a determined end--a determined, clearly +conceived effect. Only that which is done by measure is purely +human;--what is beyond, is of evil. Can we not conceive that the Deity +has expressly created us, to manage for his own good purpose that which +is exhibited according to measured, appreciable rules;--in a word, the +purely commeasurable, just as we, in our turn build saw-mills and +spinning-machines, as the mechanical superintendents of our wants? +Professor Walter lately maintained, that certain beasts were merely +created to be eaten by others, and that this in the end, conduced to +our own utility. Thus, for example, cats, he said, had an innate +propensity to devour mice, that they might not nibble the sugar placed +ready for our breakfast. And the professor was right in the +end;--animals, and we ourselves are but well-ordered machines, made to +work up and knead certain materials for the table of the unknown +king.--Come, come, mate, hand me up the pots. I prepared all the tones +yesterday by daylight, that this candlelight might not deceive us, and +they all stand numbered in yonder corner. Hand me up No. 1, young +friend. Gray with gray!--What would dry, weary life be, if the Lord of +Heaven had not put so many motley playthings into our hands. He who +demeans himself well does not, like the curious boy, try to break the +box from which the music comes when he turns the handle. It is just +natural, they say, that it sounds inside, for I turn the handle. +Because I have drawn this intellective correctly according to the point +of view, I know that it will have the effect of actual sculpture on the +spectator.--Now, boy, reach me No. 2, now I paint in colours that are +toned down according to rule, and it appears receding five yards. All +that I know well enough--oh, we are amazingly clever! How is it that +objects diminish in the distance? This one stupid question of a +Chinese could put to confusion Professor Eytelwein himself; but he +could help himself out with the music-box, and say he had often turned +the handle, and always experienced the same result.--Violet, No. 2, +youngster! Another rule, and a thick washed-out brush! Ah, what is +all our striving and struggling after the higher, but the helpless, +unconscious act of an infant who hurts the nurse that feeds him. +Violet, No. 2! Quick, young man! The ideal is an evil, lying dream, +produced by fermented blood. Take away the pot, young man, I am coming +down. The devil lures us with puppets, to which he glues angel’s +wings.” + +I am unable to repeat literally, what Berthold said, while he went on +painting rapidly, and treated me only as his fag. He went on in the +tone in which he had begun, scoffing at the limited nature of every +human effort. Ah, I was inspecting the depth of a mind that had +received its death-wound, and that only uttered its complaints in +bitter irony. Morning dawned, and the glimmer of the taper grew pale +before the entrance of sunlight. Berthold painted on zealously, but he +became more and more silent, and only single sounds--ultimately, only +sighs--escaped his burdened breast. He had planned the entire altar +with all its gradation of colour, and even now the picture stood out +quite prominently. + +“Admirable! admirable!” I cried out with delight. + +“Do you think,” said Berthold, faintly, “that I shall make something of +it? I at least took great pains to make my drawing correct, but now I +can do no more.” + +“No, no, not a stroke more, dear Berthold,” I exclaimed, “it is almost +incredible how you have made so much progress in such a work within a +few hours. But you exert yourself too much, and are quite lavish of +your power.” + +“And yet,” said Berthold, “these are my happiest hours. Perhaps I +talked too much, but it is only in words that the pain which consumes +my vitals finds a vent.” + +“You seem to feel very unhappy, my poor friend,” said I, “some +frightful event has had an evil influence on your life.” + +The painter slowly took his materials into the chapel, extinguished the +lights, and coming up to me, seized my hand, and said, in a faltering +voice, “Could you be cheerful, nay, could you have one quiet moment, if +you were conscious of a fearful, irreparable crime?” + +I stood perfectly amazed. The bright sunbeams fell on the painter’s +pallid, agitated countenance, and he almost looked like a spectre as he +staggered through the little door into the interior of the college. + +I could scarcely wait for the hour on the following day, when Professor +Walter had appointed to see me. I told him the whole affair of the +previous night, which had excited me not a little; I described in the +most lively colours the strange conduct of the painter, and did not +suppress a word that he had uttered--not even those, which related to +himself. But the more I hoped for the professor’s sympathy, the more +indifferent he appeared; nay, he smiled upon me in a most unpleasant +manner when I continued to talk of Berthold, and pressed him to tell me +all he knew about this unfortunate man. + +“He is a strange creature that painter,” said the professor, “mild, +good-tempered, sober, industrious, as I told you before, but weak in +his intellect. If he had been otherwise he would never have descended, +even though he did commit a crime, from a great historical painter, to +a poor dauber of walls.” + +This expression, “dauber of walls,” annoyed me as much as the +professor’s general indifference. I tried to convince him that +Berthold was even now a most estimable artist, and deserving of the +highest, the most active sympathy. + +“Well,” said the professor at last, “since you take so much interest in +Berthold you shall hear all that I know of him, and that is not a +little. By way of introduction we will go into the church at once. As +Berthold has worked hard throughout the night he will rest during the +forenoon. If we found him in the church my design would fail.” + +We went to the church, the professor had the cloth removed from the +covered picture, and a work of the most magical splendour, such as I +had never seen, was revealed to me. The composition was in the style +of Raffaelle, simple and of heavenly sublimity. Mary and Elizabeth +were sitting on the grass in a beautiful garden; the children, Jesus +and John, were before them, playing with flowers, and in the background +towards the side, a male figure was praying. Mary’s lovely, heavenly +face, the dignity and elevation of her entire figure, filled me with +astonishment and the deepest admiration. She was beautiful, more +beautiful than an earthly woman, and her glance indicated the higher +power of the mother of God, like that of Raffaelle’s Mary in the +Dresden Gallery. Ah! was not the deepest thirst for eternity awakened +perforce in the human heart, by those wondrous eyes round which a deep +shadow was floating? Did not those soft, half-opened lips speak in +consolatory language, as in the sweet melody of angels, of the infinite +happiness of heaven? An indescribable feeling impelled me to cast +myself down in the dust before her, the Queen of Heaven. I had lost +the power of speech, and could not turn my eyes from the incomparable +figure. Only Mary and the children were quite finished; the last touch +had not, apparently, been given to the figure of Elizabeth, and the +praying man was not yet painted over. Approaching nearer, I perceived +in this man the features of Berthold, and already anticipated in my +mind what the professor presently said: “This picture is Berthold’s +last work. We got it several years ago from N----, in Upper Silesia, +where one of our colleagues bought it at an auction. Although +unfinished, we had it fitted in here, in the place of the wretched +altar-piece which we had formerly. When Berthold first came and saw +the picture, he uttered a loud shriek and fell senseless to the ground. +Afterwards he carefully avoided looking at it, and told me in +confidence that it was his last work of this class. I hoped that I +should gradually persuade him to finish it, but every proposal of the +sort he rejected with the utmost abhorrence, and to keep him in good +spirits, and in the full possession of his powers, I was forced to +cover up the picture so long as he remained in the church. If it met +his eye only by accident, he ran as if impelled by some irresistible +power, cast himself sobbing on the ground, a paroxysm seized him, and +he was for many days quite unfit for work.” + +“Poor unfortunate man!” exclaimed I, “how did the hand of the devil +take such a deadly hold of thy life?” + +“Oh!” cried the professor, “the hand as well as the arm grew in his own +body: he was his own demon, his own Lucifer, flashing the infernal +torch upon his own life. That is plain enough to those who know his +biography.” + +I entreated the professor at once to tell me all that he knew about the +life of the unfortunate painter. + +“That would be much too prolix, and cost too much breath,” replied the +professor. “Do not let us spoil the cheerful day by such gloomy stuff. +We will take breakfast and then go to the mill, where an excellent +dinner awaits us.” + +I did not desist from my requests to the professor, and after much talk +on both sides, it came out that, immediately after Berthold’s arrival, +a youth who was studying at the college, devotedly attached himself to +him, and that Berthold, by degrees, communicated the particulars of his +life to this youth, who had carefully written them down, and had given +the manuscript to the professor. + +“He was,” said the professor, “much such an enthusiast as--pardon +me--you are! But this work of writing down the strange events in the +painter’s life served him as a capital exercise for style.” + +With much trouble I obtained from the professor a promise that he would +lend me the manuscript after the close of our pleasure-party. Whether +it proceeded from my own violent curiosity, or whether it was the +professor’s fault, I never felt more uneasy than during this day. The +icy coldness of the professor when speaking of Berthold had been +repulsive to me, but his conversation with his colleagues who +participated in the repast, convinced me, that in spite of all his +learning, and all his knowledge of the world, he had no sense for the +sublime, and was as gross a materialist as possible. The system of +consuming and being consumed, as Berthold called it, he had actually +adopted. All mental endeavours, all the powers of creation and +invention, he deduced from certain states of the stomach and the +entrails, uttering on this subject all sorts of monstrous conceits. +Thus, for instance, he very seriously maintained that every thought +proceeded from the marriage of two fibres in the human brain. I +perceived how the professor, with all this absurd stuff, must torment +poor Berthold, who, in the irony of despair, attacked the notion of any +favourable influence from a higher region, and how he must plunge +pointed daggers into wounds still fresh and bleeding. The evening at +last came, and the professor put a few sheets of manuscript into my +hand, with the words: “There, my dear enthusiast, is the student’s +handy work. It is not badly written but very odd, and the author, +against all rule, thrusts in discourses of the painter, word for word, +without any notice to the reader. I will make you a present of the +work, of which I have a right to dispose by virtue of my office, for I +know perfectly well that you are no writer. The author of the +“Fantasie-Stücke in Callot’s Manier,”[1] (fancy pieces in the style of +Callot) would have cut it according to his own mad fashion, and would +have printed it at once. I have nothing of the sort to expect from +you.” + +Professor Aloysius Walter did not know that he really stood before the +“travelling enthusiast,” although he might have found it out, and thus, +gentle reader, I am enabled to give you the Jesuit-student’s short +history of the painter, Berthold. It thoroughly explains the manner in +which he conducted himself in my presence, and thou, reader, wilt be +able to see how the strange spirit of destiny often plunges us into +destructive error. + + * * * * * + +“‘Only let your son make up his mind and go to Italy. He is already a +clever artist, and here at D---- there is no lack of opportunity for +studying after excellent originals in every class, but here he must not +stay. The free life of an artist must dawn upon him in the cheerful +land of art, his studies will there first take a living form, and +produce individual thoughts. Mere copying is now of no further use to +him. The growing plant requires more sun to thrive and bring forth its +blossoms and fruit. Your son has a really artistical temperament, so +you may be perfectly satisfied about all the rest!’ Thus said the old +painter, Stephan Birkner, to Berthold’s parents. The latter scraped +together all that their slender means would allow to fit out the youth +for his long journey, and thus was Berthold’s warmest wish--that of +travelling to Italy--accomplished. + +“‘When Birkner told me the decision of my parents, I literally jumped +for joy. I wandered about as in a dream till the time of my departure. +I was not able to make a single stroke with my pencil in the gallery. +I made the inspector, and all the artists who had been to Italy, tell +me of the land where art flourishes. The day and hour at length +arrived. The parting from my parents was painful, as they felt a +gloomy presentiment that they should not see me again. Even my father, +generally a firm, resolute man, had difficulty in containing his +feelings. ‘Italy! you will see Italy!’ cried my brother artists, and +then my wish shone forth with greater power, from my deep melancholy, +and I stepped boldly forth, for the path of an artist seemed to begin +even at my parents’ door.’ + +“Berthold had studied every department of painting, but he had +especially devoted himself to landscapes, at which he worked with +ardent love and zeal. In Rome he expected to find abundant nurture for +this branch of art, but it proved otherwise. The very circle of +artists and _dilettanti_ in which he moved, continually told him that +the historical painter alone stood on the highest point, and that all +the rest were but subordinate. He was advised, if he wished to become +an artist of eminence, to abandon at once the department he had chosen, +and to devote himself to the higher branch; and this advice, coupled +with the novel impression which Raffaelle’s mighty frescoes in the +Vatican had made upon him, determined him to give up landscape painting +altogether. He sketched after the Raffaelles, and he copied small oil +paintings by other celebrated masters. All these things were very +cleverly done by his practised hand; but he plainly felt that the +praise of the artists and _dilettanti_ should only solace him, and +encourage him to further efforts. He himself saw that his sketches and +copies wanted all the fire of the originals. Raffaelle’s and +Correggio’s heavenly thoughts--so he thought--inspired him to creations +of his own, but he wished to hold them fast in his fancy, they vanished +as in a mist, and all that he sketched was like every obscure, confused +thought, without motion and significance. During his vain endeavours +deep melancholy took possession of his soul, and he often escaped from +his friends, privately to sketch and paint in the vicinity of Rome, +groups of trees--single pieces of landscape. But even these attempts +were less successful than formerly; and, for the first time in his +life, he doubted the truth of his calling as an artist. His proudest +hopes seemed on the point of vanishing. ‘Ah, my revered friend and +instructor,’ wrote Berthold to Birkner, ‘you gave me credit for great +things; but here, when a light should have risen in my soul, I have +learned that that which you termed real artistical genius was nothing +but a sort of _talent_--mere dexterity of hand. Tell my parents that I +shall soon return, and learn some trade that I may get my living,’ &c. +Birkner wrote back: ‘Oh! would I could be with you, my son, to support +you in your depression. It is your very doubts that prove your calling +as an artist. He who with steady immoveable confidence in his powers +believes that he will always progress, is a blind fool, who only +deceives himself, for he wants the proper spur to endeavour, which only +consists in the thought of deficiency. Persevere and you will soon +gain strength; and then, no longer fettered by the opinion or the +advice of friends, who are, perhaps, unable to appreciate you, you will +quietly pursue the path which your own nature has designed for you. It +will then be left to your own decision whether you become a painter of +landscapes or historical pieces, and you will cease to think of a +hostile separation of the branches of one trunk.’ + +“It happened that about the time when Berthold received this letter of +consolation from his old friend and instructor, Philip Hackert’s fame +became widely extended in Rome. Some of the paintings which he had +exhibited, and which were distinguished by wonderful grace and +clearness, proved the real genius of the artist, and even the +historical painters admitted that there was much greatness and +excellence in this pure imitation of nature. Berthold breathed again; +he no more heard his favourite art treated with contempt, he saw a man +who pursued it honoured and elevated, and, as it were, a spark fell on +his soul that he must travel to Naples and study under Hackert. In +high spirits he wrote to Birkner, and his parents, that he had now, +after a hard struggle, discovered the right way, and hoped to become a +clever artist in his own style. The honest German, Hackert, received +his German pupil with great kindness, and the latter soon made great +efforts to follow his master. Berthold attained great facility in +giving faithful representations of the different kinds of trees and +shrubs, and was not a little successful in those misty effects, which +are to be found in Hackert’s pictures. He thus gained great praise, +but it seemed to him as if something was wanting both in his own and +his master’s landscapes;--something to which he could not give a name, +and which was nevertheless plainly apparent in the pictures by Claude +Lorraine, and the wild landscapes of Salvator Rosa. Soon he felt a +want of confidence in his instructor, and he felt particularly +dispirited when Hackert, with unwearied exertion, painted some dead +game which the king had sent him. Soon, however, he conquered such +presumptuous thoughts--as he considered them--and went on with virtuous +resignation and true German industry, following the pattern of his +master, so that in a short time he could nearly equal him. At +Hackert’s own suggestion he sent a large landscape, which he had +faithfully copied from nature, to an exhibition, which was chiefly to +consist of landscapes and pieces of still-life in the Hackert style. +All the artists and connoisseurs admired the young man’s faithful, +neatly executed works, and praised him aloud. There was only an +elderly strangely-attired man who did not say a word about Hackert’s +pictures, but smiled, significantly, whenever the multitude broke out +into extravagant praises. Berthold perceived plainly enough that this +stranger, when he stood before his landscape, shook his head with an +air of the deepest pity, and was then about to retire. Being somewhat +elevated by the general praise which he had received, Berthold could +not help feeling indignant with the stranger. He went up to him, and +speaking more sharply than was necessary, said: ‘You do not seem +satisfied with the picture, sir, although I must say there are +excellent artists and connoisseurs who do not think it so bad. Pray +tell me where the fault lies that I may improve the picture according +to your kind suggestion.’ The stranger cast a keen glance at Berthold, +and said, very seriously: ‘Young man, a great deal might be made out of +you.’ Berthold felt deeply horrified at the glance and words of this +man; he had not courage to say any thing more, or to follow him, when +he slowly stalked out of the saloon. Hackert soon came in himself, and +Berthold hastened to tell him of his meeting with this strange man. +‘Ha!’ said Hackert, smiling, ‘do not take that to heart. That is a +crabbed old man, who grumbles at every thing, and is pleased at +nothing; I met him in the ante-room. He was born of Greek parents, in +Malta, and is a rich, queer old fellow, and no bad painter. All that +he does has a fantastic appearance, and this proceeds from the absurd +notion he has about art, and from the fact that he has constructed a +system which is utterly worthless. I know well enough that he has no +opinion of me, which I readily pardon in him, since he cannot throw any +doubt on my honourably acquired fame.’ Berthold had felt as if the +Maltese had touched a sore place in his soul, like a beneficent +physician, only for the purpose of probing it and healing it; but he +soon drove this notion from his mind, and worked on happily as he had +done before. + +“The success of this large picture, which was universally admired, gave +him courage to begin a companion to it. Hackert himself selected one +of the most lovely spots in the gorgeous vicinity of Naples; and, as +the first picture had represented sunset, this landscape was to show +the effect of sunrise. He had a number of strange trees, a number of +vineyards, and, above all, a good deal of mist to paint. + +“Berthold was sitting on a large flat stone, in this very spot, +completing the sketch of the great picture after nature. ‘Bravo--well +done!’ said a voice near him. He looked up. The Maltese was viewing +his work, and added, with a sarcastic smile, ‘You have only forgotten +one thing, my dear young friend. Only look yonder, at the wall of the +distant vineyard; the one covered with green tendrils. The door is +half-open, don’t you see? You must represent that with its proper +shading. The half-open door makes a surprising effect!’ + +“‘You are joking, sir,’ exclaimed Berthold, ‘and without reason. Such +accidental circumstances are by no means so contemptible as you +imagine, and for that very reason my master loves to employ them. Only +recollect the suspended white cloth in the landscape of one of the +Dutch painters, that could not be omitted without marring the general +effect. You, however, seem to be no friend to landscape painting in +general; and, as I have given myself up to it with heart and soul, I +beg of you to let me go on working in quiet.’ + +“‘You are much mistaken, young man,’ said the Maltese. ‘I tell you +again that a good deal might be made of you, for your works visibly +prove an unwearied endeavour to attain the highest; but that, +unfortunately, you will never attain, since the path that you have +taken does not lead to it. Only mark what I tell you. Perhaps I may +succeed in kindling that flame in your soul, which you, senseless as +you are, are endeavouring to smother, and in making it flash up +brightly, so as to enlighten you. Then you will be able to recognise +the real spirit that animates you. Do you think I am so foolish as to +place the landscape lower in rank than the historical painting, and +that I do not recognise the common goal after which the painters of +both classes should strive? The apprehension of nature in the deepest +import of that higher sense, which kindles all beings to a higher life, +that is the sacred end of all art. Can the mere dim copying of nature +lead to this? How poor, how stiff and forced, is the appearance of a +manuscript copied from another in some foreign language, which the +copyist does not understand, and is, therefore, unable to give the +strokes, which he laboriously imitates, their proper significance. +Thus your master’s landscapes are correct copies of an original author +in a language which is strange to him. The initiated artist hears the +voice of nature, which from trees, hedges, flowers, mountains, and +waters, speaks to him, and of unfathomable mysteries in wondrous +sounds, which form themselves in his bosom to a pious feeling of +foreboding; then, as a divine spirit, the talent itself of transferring +this dim feeling to his works, descends upon him. Have not you +yourself, young man, felt strangely affected when looking at the +landscapes of the old masters? Assuredly you did not think whether the +leaves of the lime trees, the pines, the plane trees, might be truer to +nature, whether the back ground might be more misty, or the water might +be clearer; but the spirit that breathes from the whole raised you into +a higher region, the reflection of which you seemed to behold. +Therefore, study nature in the mechanical part, sedulously and +carefully, that you may attain the practice of representation; but do +not take the practice for the art itself. If you have penetrated into +the deep import of nature, her pictures will arise within you in bright +magnificence.’ The Maltese was silent; but when Berthold, deeply moved +by what he had heard, stood with downcast eyes, and incapable of +uttering a word, the Maltese left him, saying, ‘I had no intention of +interrupting you in your calling, but I know that a higher spirit is +slumbering in you. I called upon it, with strong words, that it might +awake, and move its wings with freshness and vigour. Farewell.’ + +“Berthold felt as if the Maltese had only clothed in words that which +had already been fermenting in his soul. The inner voice broke forth. +‘No! All this striving, this constant endeavour, is but the uncertain, +deceptive groping of the blind. Away with all that has hitherto +dazzled me.’ He was not in a condition to accomplish a single other +stroke. He left his master, and wandered about full of wild +uneasiness, loudly imploring that the high knowledge of which the +Maltese had spoken might be revealed to him. + +“‘Only in sweet dreams was I happy--yes, truly blessed! Then every +thing that the Maltese had spoken became true. I lay in the green +hedge, while magical exhalations played around me, and the voice of +nature sounded audibly and melodiously through the dark forest. +‘Listen, listen, oh! thou initiated one. Hear the original tones of +creation, which fashion themselves to beings accessible to thy mind.’ +And when I heard the chords sound plainer and plainer, I felt as though +a new sense was awakened in me, and apprehended with wonderful +perspicuity, that which had appeared unfathomable. As if in strange +hieroglyphics I drew in the air the secrets that had been revealed to +me with characters of fire; and this hieroglyphic writing was a strange +landscape, upon which trees, hedges, flowers, and waters moved, as it +seemed, in loud delightful sounds.’ + +“But it was only in dreams that poor Berthold felt real happiness, for +his strength was broken, and his mind was more disturbed than it had +been in Rome, when he wished to be an historical painter. If he strode +through the dark wood, an unpleasant sensation of awe came over him; if +he went out and looked into the distant mountains, he felt as though +icy cold claws grasped his heart--his breath was stopped--and he felt +as if he perished from internal anguish. All nature, which used to +smile kindly upon him, became a threatening monster, and her voice, +which used to greet him sweetly in the murmuring of the evening breeze, +in the bubbling of the brook, in the rustling of the leaves, now told +him of nothing but perdition. At last, however, the more these lively +dreams consoled him, the calmer he became; nevertheless, he avoided +being alone in the open air, and hence he associated himself with a +couple of cheerful German painters, and took with them many a trip to +the loveliest spots of Naples. + +“One of them, whom we will call Florentin, was at this moment more +intent upon the enjoyment of life, than upon the serious study of his +art, as his portfolio sufficiently testified. Groups of dancing +peasant-girls, processions, rural festivals--all this class of subjects +he could transfer to paper with a sure, ready hand, whenever he chanced +to meet with them. Every drawing, even though it were a mere sketch, +had life and motion. At the same time his mind was by no means closed +to the higher in art; on the contrary, he penetrated more than any +modern painter into the strange import of the paintings by all masters. +In his sketch-book he had copied in outline the frescoes of an old +convent-church in Rome, before the walls were pulled down. They +represented the martyrdom of St. Catharine, and one could not see any +thing more beautiful, more happily conceived than those outlines, which +made a very peculiar impression upon Berthold. He saw flashes through +the gloomy desert that surrounded him, and the result was, that he +became capable of appreciating the cheerful mind of Florentin, and +that, as the latter when representing the charms, especially brought +forward the human principle, he also took this principle as the ground +on which he must stand, not to float away into boundless space. While +Florentin was hastily sketching some group that he met, Berthold took +the opportunity of looking into his book, and tried to imitate the +lovely figure of Catharine, in which he was tolerably successful, +although, as at Rome, he failed in giving his figures the animation of +the original. He complained of this to Florentin, whom he looked upon +as far his superior in true artistical genius, and at the same time +told him all that the Maltese had spoken about art. ‘The Maltese is +right, dear brother Berthold,’ said Florentin, ‘and I rank the genuine +landscape quite as high as the deeply significant sacred histories, as +depicted by the old masters. Nay, I maintain that one ought first to +strengthen oneself by the representation of that organic nature which +is nearest to us, that we may be able to find light for her darker +regions. I advise you, Berthold, to practise yourself in sketching +figures, and in arranging your thoughts in them. Perhaps by this means +you will gain additional light.’ Berthold acted according to the +suggestion of his friend, and it seemed to him, as if the dark clouds +which spread over his life, were passing away. + +“‘I endeavoured to represent that, which seemed no more than a mere +obscure feeling in my innermost soul, by hieroglyphic characters, as I +had done in my dream; but the hieroglyphics became human figures, which +moved about a focus of light in strange combinations. This focus was +to be the noblest form that ever was evoked by a painter’s fancy, but I +vainly endeavoured, when this form appeared to me in a dream, +surrounded by the rays of heaven, to catch the features. Every attempt +to represent it proved an utter failure, and I seemed to fade away in a +state of the most ardent desire.’ Florentin perceived the situation of +his friend, who was excited to a morbid degree, and gave him all the +consolation in his power. Often did he tell him that this was the very +time when illumination would break upon him; but Berthold merely slunk +about like a dreamer, and all his attempts were but the feeble efforts +of a puny child. + +“In the vicinity of Naples was a duke’s villa from which there was the +finest view of Vesuvius and the sea, and which, on this account was +hospitably kept open for foreign artists, especially landscape +painters. Berthold had often worked here, but still oftener in a +grotto in the park had he given himself up to his fantastic dreams. +One day he was sitting in this grotto tortured by the sense of longing, +that tore his bosom, and was shedding briny tears, hoping that the star +would shine upon his obscure path, when a rustling was heard in the +hedges, and the form of an exquisitely beautiful woman was before him. + +“‘The sunbeams fell upon her angelic countenance: she cast upon me an +indescribable glance. It was Saint Catharine. No, more than she, it +was my ideal. Mad with transport I threw myself on the ground, and the +form vanished with a benignant smile! My most ardent prayer was +realised.’ + +“Florentin entered the grotto, and was surprised at Berthold, who, with +beaming countenance, pressed him to his heart, while the tears streamed +from his eyes. ‘My friend! my friend!’ he stammered forth; ‘I am +happy--I am blessed--she is found--found!’ He hurried to his +_atelier_, and stretching the canvass began to paint as if inspired by +divine power, he charmed before him the superterrestrial woman--for so +he thought her--with the full glow of life. From this moment his +inmost soul was entirely changed. Far from feeling that melancholy +which preyed upon his heart, he was serene and cheerful. He +industriously studied the _chefs-d’oeuvre_ of the old painters. Many +of his copies were perfectly successful, and now, for the first time, +he began to produce paintings which caused astonishment among all the +connoisseurs. As for landscapes, they were no more to be thought of, +and Hackert himself confessed that the youth had not till now +discovered his proper vocation. He had to paint many large works, such +as altar-pieces for churches, and generally selected the more cheerful +subjects of Christian tradition. From all of these, however, the noble +form of his ideal beamed forth. It was discovered that the face and +figure of the Princess Angiola T---- were represented to the life; nay, +this fact was communicated to the young painter himself, and knowing +folks waggishly insinuated that the German was smitten to the heart by +the brilliant eyes of the lovely dame. Berthold was highly indignant +at this silly gossip of people who wished to lower the heavenly into +the mere earthy. ‘Do you believe,’ he said, ‘that such a being could +wander here upon earth? No; the highest was revealed in a wondrous +vision; it was the moment when the artist receives consecration.’ +Berthold lived happy, until the French army, after Bonaparte’s +conquests in Italy, approached the kingdom of Naples, and the +revolution, which so fearfully destroyed all the peaceful relations of +the place, broke out. The king and queen had left Naples, and the +_Citta_ was appointed. The vicar-general concluded a disgraceful truce +with the French commander, and the French commissaries soon came to +receive the sums that were to be paid them. The vicar-general fled to +escape the rage of the people, who believed themselves deserted by him, +by the _Citta_, and, in short, by all who could defend them against the +approaching enemy. Then were all the bands of society loosened. The +people, in a state of wild anarchy, set law and order at defiance, and +with the cry, ‘Viva la Santa Fede!’ wild hordes ran through the streets +plundering and burning the houses of the nobles, who they thought had +sold them to the enemy. Vain were the endeavours of Moliterno and +Rocca Romana, who were the favourites of the people, and had been +elected for leaders: vain were their endeavours to restore order. The +dukes Delia Torre and Clement Filomarino were murdered, but the thirst +for blood among the raging people was not yet satisfied. Berthold had +just been able to escape, half-dressed, from a burning house, when he +met a mob, that with kindled torches and glittering knives, was +hurrying to the palace of the Duke of T----. These madmen, taking him +for one of their own class, carried him along with them, shouting, +‘Viva la Santa Fede!’ and in a few minutes the duke, the servants, +every one who resisted, were murdered, and the palace, into which +Berthold was more and more forced by the throng, was in flames. Thick +clouds of smoke rolled through the long passages. Berthold, in danger +of being burned to death, darted through the now open doors in hopes of +finding an outlet, but all in vain; a piercing shriek of agony struck +his ear, and he rushed into the hall. A woman was struggling with a +lazzarone, who held her fast, and was about to plunge a knife in her +heart. It was the princess--it was Berthold’s ideal! Losing all +consciousness with horror, he sprang towards them, and it was but the +work of a moment to seize the lazzarone, to fling him to the ground, to +plunge his own knife in his throat, to catch the princess in his arms, +to fly with her through the flaming ruins, to dash down the steps, and +to go on--on--through the dense crowd of people. None attempted to +stop him in his flight. With the bloody knife in his hand, with his +face begrimed by smoke, with his clothes torn, he was taken for a +plunderer and murderer by the people, who willingly conceded him his +prey. In a deserted corner of the city, beneath an old wall, to which, +as if by instinct he had run to escape danger, he fell exhausted. On +recovering, he found the princess kneeling at his side, and washing his +forehead with cold water. ‘Oh thanks!--thanks!’ said she, in the +softest and most lovely voice; ‘thanks to the saints that thou hast +recovered, my preserver, my all!’ Berthold raised himself,--he fancied +he was dreaming, he looked with fixed eyes upon the princess--yes, it +was herself--the celestial form which had kindled the divine spark in +his breast. ‘Is it possible?--Is it true?--Do I live?’ he exclaimed. +‘Yes,’ replied the princess, ‘thou livest for me. That which thou +didst not venture even to hope, has happened through a miracle. Oh! I +know thee well,--thou art the German painter, Berthold, who loved me, +and ennobled me in his beautiful works. Was it then possible for me to +be thine? But now I am thine for ever--let us fly!’ A strange +feeling, as when a sudden pain disturbs sweet dreams, darted through +Berthold as the princess spoke. But when the lovely woman clasped him +with her full, snow-white arms, when he pressed her passionately to his +bosom, then did a delicious trembling, hitherto unknown, take +possession of him, and in the mad delight of possessing the greatest +earthly felicity, he cried: ‘Oh, it was no delirious dream! No! it is +my wife whom I embrace, and whom I will never leave!’ + +“Escape from the city was at first impossible, for at the gate stood +the French army, whose entrance the people, although badly armed and +without leaders, were able to dispute for two days. Berthold, however, +succeeded in flying with Angiola from one hiding-place to another, and +at last out of the city. Angiola, deeply enamoured of him, could not +think of remaining in Italy; she wished her family to consider her +dead, that Berthold’s possession of her might be secure. A diamond +necklace, and some valuable rings which she wore, were sufficient to +provide them with all necessaries at Rome--whither they had proceeded +by slow degrees--and they arrived happily at M----, in Southern +Germany, where Berthold intended to settle, and to support himself by +his art. Was it not a state of felicity, not even to be dreamed, that +Angiola, that creature of celestial loveliness, that ideal of his most +delightful visions, now became his own,--when all social laws had +seemed to raise an insurmountable barrier between him and his beloved? +Berthold could hardly comprehend his happiness, he was abandoned to +inexpressible delight, until the inner voice became louder and louder, +urging him to think of his art. He determined to found his fame at +M---- by a large picture which he designed for the Maria church there. +The whole subject was to be the very simple one of Mary and Elizabeth +sitting on the grass in a beautiful garden, with the infant Christ and +John playing before them; but all his efforts to obtain a pure +spiritual view of his picture proved fruitless. As in that unhappy +period of the crisis the forms floated away from him, and it was not +the heavenly Mary--no, it was an earthly woman, his Angiola herself, +fearfully distorted, that stood before the eyes of his mind. He +fancied that he could defy the gloomy power that seemed to grasp +him,--he prepared his colours and began to paint; but his strength was +broken, and all his endeavours were--as they had been formerly--only +the puny efforts of a senseless child. Whatever he painted was stiff +and inanimate, and even Angiola,--Angiola his ideal, became, when she +sat to him, and he tried to paint her, a mere wax image on the canvass, +staring at him with its glassy eyes. His soul became more and more the +prey of a despondency, that consumed all the happiness of his life. He +would not, nay, he could not, work any more; and thus he fell into a +state of poverty, which was the more crushing, because Angiola did not +utter a word of complaint. + +“‘The grief that gnawed more and more into my soul, that grief that was +the offspring of a hope, invariably deceived, when I summoned powers +that were no longer mine, soon reduced me to a state that might be +compared to madness. My wife bore me a son,--that increased my misery, +and my long suppressed discontent broke out into open, burning hate. +She--she alone had been the cause of my unhappiness. She was _not_ the +ideal which had appeared to me, but had only assumed the form and face +of that heavenly woman. In wild despair I cursed her and her innocent +child. I wished them both dead, that I might be freed from the +insupportable pains that tortured me, like so many burning knives. +Thoughts of hell arose in my mind. In vain did I read in Angiola’s +corpse-like face, and in her tears, the madness and impiety of my +conduct. ‘Thou hast cheated me out of my life, cursed woman!’ I +thundered forth, and thrust her away with my foot, when she fell +fainting to the ground and clasped my knees.’ + +“Berthold’s mad, cruel conduct towards his wife and child excited the +attention of the neighbours, who informed the magistrates of the +circumstance. They wished to imprison him; but when the police entered +his dwelling, he had vanished with his wife and child, without leaving +so much as a trace behind. Soon afterwards he appeared at N----, in +Upper Silesia; he had got rid of his wife and child, and cheerfully +began to paint the picture which he had vainly attempted at M----. +However he could only finish the Virgin Mary, and the children--Christ +and John--for he fell into a dreadful illness, which brought him near +the death he desired. Every thing that belonged to him, including the +unfinished picture, was sold for his subsistence; and, after he had +recovered, in some measure, he departed, a sick, miserable beggar. He +afterwards gained a poor livelihood by a few jobs of wall-painting.” + + * * * * * + +“There is something terrible in the history of Berthold,” said I to the +professor. “Although so much is not plainly expressed, I believe that +he was the reckless murderer of his innocent wife and child.” + +“He is a mad fool,” replied the professor, “to whom I do not give +credit for enough courage to perform such an act. On this point he +never speaks plainly; and the question is, whether it be not a mere +fancy that he took any part in the death of his wife and child. He now +returns to painting marble; and this very night he will finish the +altar. This puts him in a good-humour, and you may learn something +about this critical affair from his own mouth.” + +I must confess that the thought of passing midnight in the church alone +with Berthold made me shudder a little, now I had read his history. I +thought that there might be a little of the devil in him in spite of +his good-humour and frank deportment; and I chose rather to be in his +company that very noon in the clear sunlight. + +I found him upon the scaffold, reserved and in an ill-humour, painting +the veins of marble. Climbing up to him, I reached him the pots, while +he stared at me with amazement. “I am your helpmate,” said I softly, +and this drew a smile from him. Now I began to talk of his life, so as +to let him know that I was acquainted with all; and he seemed to +believe that he himself had, on that night, communicated every thing. +Very, very gently I came to the frightful catastrophe, and then said +suddenly--“Did you actually, in your unholy madness, murder your wife +and child?” + +At this he let the paint-pot and the pencil fall; and, staring at me +with a hideous countenance, as he raised both his hands, cried out, +“No, these hands are unstained by the blood of my wife--of my son! +Another such word and I will dash myself down from the scaffolding with +you, so that both our heads shall be shattered on the stone floor of +the church.” + +At this moment I felt my situation rather odd, and deemed it advisable +to change the subject. “Look here, dear Berthold,” said I, as quietly +and coolly as possible; “see how that ugly dark yellow is running on +the wall.” + +He turned his eyes to the spot, and while he painted out the yellow, I +slipped gently down the scaffold, left the church, and went to the +professor, to have a hearty laugh at my well-chastised presumption. + +My vehicle was repaired, and I left G----, after Professor Aloysius +Walter had solemnly promised that in case any thing happened to +Berthold, he would communicate it in writing immediately. + +About half a year elapsed, when I actually received a letter from the +professor. He expressed himself in very prolix terms of praise about +our meeting at G----, and wrote as follows about Berthold:--“Soon after +your departure affairs took a singular turn with our whimsical painter. +He became suddenly quite cheerful, and finished, in the most splendid +style, the great altar-piece, which is now the wonder of every body. +He then vanished; and, as he took nothing with him, and a few days +afterwards we found a hat and stick lying near the O---- stream, we are +all of opinion that he met a voluntary death.” + +J. O. + + +[1] These “Fantasie-Stücke” are a collection of tales, &c., by +Hoffmann, and purport to be leaves from the journal of a travelling +enthusiast. J. O. + + + + +THE SEVERED HAND. + +BY WILHELM HAUFF. + +[This story is related by a Greek merchant, in the collection called +“Die Karavane.”] + + +I was born at Constantinople, where my father was a dragoman to the +Sublime Porte, and carried on besides, a tolerably lucrative trade in +perfumes and silks. He gave me a good education, partly instructing me +himself, and partly engaging a priest of our religion for that purpose. +He originally intended me for his own business, but as I displayed +greater talents than he expected, he determined, by the advice of his +friends, to make me a physician, being of opinion that a physician, if +he has learned more than the common charlatans, could make his fortune +in Constantinople. Our house was frequented by many Franks, one of +whom urged my father to let me go to the city of Paris, in his native +country, where people might study such things gratis and in the best +manner, saying, he would take me with him for nothing when he returned +thither. + +My father, who in his youth had also travelled, agreed, and the Frank +told me to be ready in three months. I was delighted beyond measure at +the prospect of seeing foreign lands, and could scarcely await the time +when we should embark. Having at length concluded all his business, +the Frank prepared for his voyage, and on the evening previous to our +departure my father took me to his lodgings. Here I saw beautiful +dresses and arms lying on the table; but what most attracted my eyes +was a large heap of gold, as I had never before seen so much together. +My father embraced me, saying, “Behold, my son, I have provided these +clothes for your voyage; those arms are yours, and they are the same +your grandfather gave me when I went forth to foreign countries. I +know you can wield them, but never use them excepting in self-defence, +and then fight bravely. My fortune is not large; but see, I have +divided it into three parts, of which one is yours, one shall be for my +support and wants, but the third shall be sacred property, and devoted +to the purpose of saving you in the hour of need.” Thus spoke my aged +father, and tears trembled in his eyes, perhaps from a certain +presentiment, for I never saw him again. + +Our voyage was prosperous; we soon reached the land of the Franks, and +in six days’ journey, after landing, we came to the great city of +Paris. Here my Frankish friend hired a room and advised me to use +proper discretion in laying out my money, which in all was two thousand +thalers. I lived for three years in this city, and learned what every +skilful physician ought to know; but I should not speak the truth were +I to say that I liked the place, for the manners and customs of this +people did not suit me. Moreover, I had but few friends, though these +were indeed noble young men. + +The desire of seeing my native country, at length, became strong; and +having all this time heard nothing of my father, I seized a favourable +opportunity to return home. + +This opportunity was afforded me by an embassy from the land of the +Franks to the Sublime Porte. I engaged myself as surgeon in the suite +of the ambassador, and was fortunate enough to return to +Constantinople. There I found my father’s house closed, and the +neighbours were astonished when they saw me, and told me that my father +had died two months since. The priest who had instructed me in my +youth brought me the keys of the now desolate house, which I entered +alone and forsaken. I found every thing as my father had left it, only +the money he had promised to bequeath me was not there. I inquired of +the priest about it, who, with a bow, told me that my father had died +as a holy man, since he had bequeathed all his money to the church. + +The latter circumstance has ever since been inexplicable to me. Yet +what could I do? I had no witnesses against the priest, and could not +but consider myself fortunate that he had not also claimed as a legacy +the house and goods of my father. This was the first calamity that +befel me, but from that time misfortunes succeeded each other. My +reputation as a physician spread but slowly, because I was ashamed to +play the quack, and I wanted everywhere the recommendation of my +father, who would have introduced me to the wealthiest and noblest +persons, who now no longer thought of poor Zaleukos. Neither could I +find customers for my father’s goods, for all had gone elsewhere after +his death, and new ones come but slowly. Once sadly reflecting on my +situation it occurred to me that I had often seen in France men of my +native land, who travelled through the country, exposing their goods in +the market-places of the towns; I remembered that they easily found +customers because they came from a foreign country, and that by such +traffic one might profit a hundred-fold. My resolution was soon taken. +I sold my father’s house, gave part of the money I received for it to a +tried friend to keep for me, and with the rest I purchased such things +as are seldom seen in the west--viz: shawls, silks, ointments, and +perfumes. Having engaged a berth in a ship, I thus set out on my +second voyage to France. As soon as I had turned my back on the +castles of the Dardanelles it seemed as if fortune would again smile on +me. Our passage was short and prosperous. + +I travelled through large and small towns, and found everywhere ready +purchasers of my goods. My friend in Constantinople supplied me +constantly with fresh goods, and I daily became more wealthy. + +When at length I thought I had saved enough to risk a greater +enterprise, I went to Italy. But I must here mention that I derived no +small additional profit from the healing art. Whenever I entered a +town, I announced, by bills, that a Greek physician had arrived, who +had already cured many; and truly my balsams and medicines brought me +in many a zechino. I now reached the city of Florence, in Italy, where +I purposed remaining for some time, as I liked it much, and wished to +recover from the fatigues of my travels. I hired a shop in the quarter +called Santa Croce, and in an inn not far from thence two beautiful +rooms which led to a balcony. Having made these arrangements, I had my +bills placarded about, announcing myself as a physician and merchant. +I had no sooner opened my shop than I had crowds of customers, and +though my prices were rather high, I sold more than others, because I +was civil and obliging to my customers. When I had thus pleasantly +spent four days in Florence, I was one evening about closing my shop, +and only had to examine my stock of boxes of ointments, as was my +custom, when I found in a small jar a piece of paper which I did not +recollect to have put there. On opening it I discovered that it was an +invitation for me to appear that night at twelve o’clock precisely on +the bridge called Ponte Vecchio. I conjectured a long time who it +could possibly be that invited me thither, but, not knowing a soul in +Florence, I thought some one wished, perhaps, to take me secretly to +some sick person, which was not uncommon, and I therefore determined to +go. However, I took the precaution to buckle on the sword my father +had given me. + +When it was near midnight I set out on my way, and soon arrived at the +Ponte Vecchio. I found the bridge forsaken and lonely, and determined +to await the person who had appointed to meet me. + +It was a cold night, the moon shone brightly, and I looked down on the +waves of the Arno, glistening in the moonlight. The church clocks now +struck the midnight hour, I looked up and saw before me a tall man, +enveloped in a red cloak, a corner of which he had drawn over his face. + +At first, I was rather terrified, at his suddenly appearing behind me, +but soon recovered myself, and said, “If you have summoned me hither, +say what is your command.” The Red Cloak turned round, and slowly +said, “Follow me.” I felt somewhat uneasy at the thought of following +the stranger alone; so I stood still, saying, “Nay, sir, please first +to tell me whither. Moreover, you might let me have a peep at your +face, that I may see whether you intend any good with me.” But the Red +Cloak did not seem to mind my words, “If you will not follow, Zaleukos, +stop where you are,” he said, and then went on. Now my anger was +roused, and I cried, “Think you a man like me, will submit to be +tantalized by any fool, and to wait for nothing in a cold night like +this?” In three leaps I overtook him, seized him by the cloak, and +cried still louder, while grasping my sword with the other hand. But +the cloak alone remained in my hand, and the stranger vanished round +the next corner. My rage gradually subsided, but still I held the +cloak, and this I expected would give me a clue to this singular +adventure. I wrapped it round me, and walked home. When I was about a +hundred paces from my house, some one passed close by me, and whispered +to me in French, “Be on your guard, Count, there is nothing to be done +to night.” But before I could look round, this somebody had passed, +and I only saw his shadow glide along the houses. That those words +were addressed to the owner of the cloak and not to me was pretty +evident, but this threw no light on the affair. The following morning, +I considered what I should do. At first I intended to have the cloak +cried, as if I had found it: on reflection, however, I thought the +owner might send another person for it, and that I might still have no +clue to the discovery. While thus considering, I looked at the cloak +more narrowly; It was of heavy Genoese reddish purple velvet, edged +with Astracan fur, and richly embroidered with gold. The sight of this +splendid cloak suggested an idea to me, which I resolved to execute. I +carried it to my shop, and exposed it for sale, but set upon it so high +a price, that I felt sure I should not find a purchaser. My object in +this was to look closely at every person who might ask the price; for I +thought I could discover, among a thousand, the figure of the stranger, +which after the loss of the cloak had shown itself to me distinctly, +though but for a moment. Many came desirous of buying the cloak, the +extraordinary beauty of which attracted every eye, but no one had the +remotest resemblance to the stranger, and none would pay for it the +high price of two-hundred zechinos. What struck me most was, that all +whom I asked whether they had ever seen such a cloak in Florence +before, replied in the negative, assuring me they had never seen such +costly and tasteful work. + +As evening approached, a young man came who had often been in my shop, +and had also during the day made a handsome offer for it. He threw a +purse of zechinos on the table, saying, “By Heavens, Zuleukos I must +have your cloak, though it will beggar me!” At these words he counted +down the gold. I was greatly embarrassed, having only exposed the +cloak for sale in hopes of attracting the looks of its owner, and now +comes a young madcap to pay the exorbitant price. But what could I do? +I yielded; for the idea was pleasing of being so handsomely recompensed +for my nocturnal adventure. The young man put on the cloak and went +away; but returned at the door, as he took off a paper which was +fastened to it, threw it to me, and said, “Here, Zaleukos is something +which I think does not belong to the cloak.” I took the paper +carelessly, when behold! it contained these words: + +“Bring the cloak to night at the usual hour to the Ponte Vecchio, and +four hundred zechinos shall be yours.” I was thunderstruck. Thus then +I had trifled with my good luck, and utterly missed my aim; but I soon +recovered, took the two-hundred zechinos, followed him, and said, “Take +back your money, my friend, and leave me the cloak, I cannot possibly +part with it.” He thought at first I was joking, but when he perceived +I was in earnest, he flew into a rage at my demand, called me a fool, +and we at length came to blows. In the scuffle, I was fortunate enough +to secure the cloak, and was about to run off with it, when the young +man called the police to his assistance, and brought me before the +magistrate. The latter was much surprised at the accusation, and +awarded the cloak to my opponent. I now offered the young man twenty, +fifty, eighty, nay, a hundred zechinos, if he would let me have it. My +gold effected what my entreaties could not. He took my money, I went +off triumphant with the cloak, and was obliged to submit to be called +mad by all Florence. But I cared little for the opinion of the people, +since I knew more than they, viz: that I still gained by my bargain. + +I awaited the night with impatience. About the same time as before I +went to the Ponte Vecchio, with the cloak under my arm. The figure +approached me with the last stroke of the clock, and I could not be +mistaken as to its identity. “Have you the cloak?” was the question. +“I have, sir,” I answered, “but it cost me a hundred zechinos.” “I +know it,” he replied; “here are four hundred for it.” With these words +he stepped to the broad balustrade and counted down the gold, four +hundred pieces, which sparkled beautifully in the moonlight; their +glitter delighted my heart, which, alas! little imagined that this was +its last joy. I put the money in my pocket, and was going to take a +close survey of the kind unknown, but he had on a mask, through which +his dark eyes flashed at me frightfully. “I thank you, sir, for your +kindness,” said I. “What else do you desire of me? for I must tell you +beforehand that it must be nothing underhanded.” “Unnecessary fear,” +he replied, as he wrapped the cloak round him. “I want your assistance +as a physician, not, however, for one living, but for one who is dead.” + +“How can that be?” I exclaimed, astonished. He beckoned me to follow +him, and related as follows: “I came here from foreign lands with my +sister, and have lived with her at the house of a friend, where she +died suddenly yesterday. Her relatives wish her to be buried +to-morrow; and by an ancient custom in our family every member is to be +buried in the vault of our ancestors, where many who died in foreign +countries now repose embalmed. I wish to leave her body to our +relations here, but must take to my father her head, at least, that he +may see his daughter’s face once more.” + +This custom of cutting off the head of beloved relatives seemed to me +somewhat repulsive, but I did not venture to raise any objections, +fearing to give offence to the stranger. I therefore told him that I +well understood embalming the dead and begged him to take me to the +deceased. At the same time I could not refrain from asking him why all +this must be done so mysteriously, and in the night. To this he +answered, that his relations, considering his intention as somewhat +cruel, would prevent him if he attempted it during the daytime; but +that if the head was once severed they would say little about it; that +he, indeed, would have brought me the head himself had not a natural +feeling deterred him from performing the operation. + +In the meanwhile we arrived at a large, splendid mansion, which my +companion pointed out as the end of our nocturnal walk. Passing the +principal gate we entered the house by a small door, which he carefully +fastened after him, and ascended, in the dark, a narrow winding +staircase. This led to a faintly lighted corridor through which we +came to an apartment, which was lighted by a lamp suspended from the +ceiling. + +In this apartment was a bed in which the corpse lay. The stranger +averted his face and seemed anxious to hide his tears. Pointing to the +bed, he ordered me to do my business well and expeditiously, and left +the apartment. + +I took my knives out of the case, which, as a doctor, I always carried, +and approached the bed. Only the head of the corpse was visible; it +was so beautiful that, involuntarily, I felt compassion in my inmost +heart; the dark hair hung in long tresses over the pale face, and the +eyes were closed. I commenced, according to the custom of surgeons +when they amputate a limb, by making an incision in the skin. Then +taking my sharpest knife I cut the throat with one stroke. Oh! horror! +the dead opened her eyes, but closed them again immediately, and with +one deep sigh now breathed forth her life. At the same time a stream +of hot blood gushed over me from the wound. I was convinced that I +only had killed the poor lady. That she was dead now I could no longer +doubt, since such a wound was sure to be fatal. I stood for some +minutes in fearful anxiety as to what I had done. Had the Red Cloak +imposed on me, or had his sister only been apparently dead? The latter +seemed to me the more probable, but I dare not tell the brother of the +dead that a less speedy cut would perhaps have aroused her without +killing her. I was going, therefore, to sever the head entirely, when +the dying lady once more groaned, stretched herself in painful +convulsions, and then expired. Overcome by terror, I rushed shuddering +from the apartment. It was dark in the corridor without, the lamp was +extinguished, no trace of my companion was to be discovered, and I was +obliged to grope my way along the wall at hazard in order to reach the +winding staircase. I found it at length, and hurried down +precipitately. There was no one visible below, the door was ajar, and +when I reached the street I breathed more freely, having felt oppressed +with horror in the house. Spurred on by terror, I hastened towards my +lodging and buried myself in the pillows of my couch, to forget the +atrocious deed I had perpetrated. But sleep fled from me, and the +morning first summoned me to composure. It seemed to me probable that +the man who had seduced me to the fearful act, as it now appeared to +me, would not inform against me. I determined to go into my shop to +business and assume, if possible, a cheerful air. But alas! a new +circumstance which I observed only now, increased my anxiety; I missed +my cap and belt, as well as the knives, and was uncertain whether I had +left them in the apartment of the murdered lady, or had lost them in my +flight. The former, unfortunately, seemed more probable, and the +knives would therefore betray me as the murderer. + +I opened my shop at the usual time, and my neighbour came in, as he +usually did in the morning, being fond of a chat. “Well, neighbour,” +said he, “what do you think of this horrible occurrence which took +place last night?” I pretended not to know any thing about it. “What! +do you pretend not to know what is known all over the town? Not to +know that the fairest flower in Florence, Bianca, the daughter of the +governor, was murdered last night?” Ah me! I saw her even yesterday go +in her carriage with her bridegroom, for it was only yesterday she was +married. Every word spoken by my neighbour was a dagger in my heart. +How often were these my tortures renewed, for each of my customers +repeated the story, one painting it more frightfully than the other, +though none could speak all the horrors I had myself witnessed. About +noon an officer from the magistrate entered my shop, and requesting me +to dismiss the customers, and, producing the things I missed, he said, +“Senore Zaleukos, do you own these things?” I hesitated a moment +whether I had not better disown them altogether, but seeing through the +half-open door my landlord and several acquaintances, who might perhaps +witness against me, I determined not to aggravate the affair by telling +a falsehood, and so owned the things produced. The officer desired me +to follow him, and led me to a large building, which I soon recognised +as a prison. He showed me into an apartment to await further orders. + +My situation was terrible as I reflected on it in my solitude; the +thought of having committed murder, though unintentionally, constantly +returned. Neither could I deny to myself that the glitter of gold had +captivated my senses, or I could not so easily have been caught in the +snare. Two hours after my arrest, I was led from my room up several +staircases into a large hall. Twelve persons, mostly old men, were +sitting at a round table, covered with black cloth. Along the walls +stood benches occupied by the nobility of Florence. In the galleries +above stood the spectators, densely crowded together. When I stepped +to the table, a man, with a gloomy and melancholy expression of +countenance, rose: it was the president of the tribunal. Addressing +the assembly, he said, that as the father of the murdered, he could not +pass judgment in this matter, and therefore, ceded his place to the +senior of the senators. The latter was an aged man of at least ninety +years. He was bent with age, and his temples were scantily covered +with a few white hairs, but his eyes still burned with lustre, and his +voice was strong and firm. He began by asking me whether I confessed +the murder? I demanded to be heard, and fearlessly, and in a very +audible voice, related what I had done, and what I knew. I observed +that the president, during my statement, was alternately flushed and +pale, and that when I concluded, he started up furiously, crying to me, +“What, wretch! Do you wish to charge the crime you committed from +avarice upon another?” The senator called him to order for his +interruption, as he had voluntarily resigned his right of judgment, +remarking, moreover, that it was by no means proved that I committed +the crime from avarice, as, by his own deposition, nothing had been +stolen from the murdered. Indeed, he went still further, declaring +that the president must give an account of the life of his daughter, +for that only could enable them to determine whether I had spoken the +truth or not. He now dismissed the court for that day to consult, as +he said, the papers of the deceased, which the president would deliver +to him. + +I was again led back to my prison where I spent a sorrowful day, still +ardently hoping that some connexion between the dead lady and the Red +Cloak might be discovered. Full of this hope I entered the judgment +hall the following day. Several letters lay on the table, and the aged +senator asked me whether they were written by me. I looked at them, +and found they must be by the same hand as the two slips of paper I had +received. This I stated to the senate, but they did not seem to regard +it, and answered that I could, and must, have written both, the initial +on both letters being evidently a Z, the initial letter of my name. +The letters contained menaces to the deceased, and warnings against the +marriage which she was about to contract. + +The president appeared to have given singular information respecting my +person, for they treated me on this day more suspiciously and severely. +In justification of myself I appealed to my papers which must be found +in my lodgings, but they told me that they had searched and found +nothing. Thus, at the closing of the court, all my hopes vanished, and +when, on the third day, I was again led into the hall, the sentence was +read to me that I was convicted of premeditated murder and was to die. +To this condition had I come! Forsaken by all that was dear on earth, +far distant from my native country, I was, though innocent, to die by +the axe in the flower of youth. As I was sitting in my lonely dungeon +on the evening of this terrible day that had decided my fate, all my +hopes having fled, and all my thoughts being seriously fixed on death, +the door opened and a man entered, who looked silently at me for a long +time. + +“Do I thus find you again, Zaleukos?” said he. + +The faint glimmer of my lamp prevented me from recognising him, but the +sound of his voice awakened in me recollections of former days. It was +Valetti, one of the few friends I had known in Paris while there +pursuing my studies. He told me that he happened to come to Florence +where his father lived much respected, that he had heard my history, +and had come to see me once more, and to learn from me how I could have +committed such a heavy crime. I told him the whole story. He seemed +much astonished, and conjured me to tell him, my only friend, every +thing, that I might not depart this life with a lie on my conscience. +I swore to him with a most solemn oath that I had spoken the truth, and +that no other guilt oppressed me, but that, being dazzled by the gold, +I had not at once recognised the improbability of the stranger’s story. + +“You did not then know Bianca?” he asked. + +I assured him I had never seen her. Valetti now related to me that a +deep secret was connected with the deed, that the president had very +much hastened my sentence, and that a report was circulated that I had +long known Bianca, and now had murdered her out of revenge for her +marrying another. I observed to him, that all this applied well to the +Red Cloak, but that I could not prove his participation in the deed. +Valetti embraced me, weeping, and promised to do all in his power to +save my life at least. I had little hope, though I knew him to be a +wise man and well conversant in the law, and that he would not fail to +do his utmost to save me. For two long days I remained in suspense; at +length he came and exclaimed, “I bring a consolation though a sad one. +You will live to be free, but must lose one hand.” Deeply affected, I +thanked my friend for having saved my life. He told me the president +had been inexorable as to granting a new investigation into the affair, +but, that he might not appear unjust, he at length agreed that if they +could find a similar case in the annals of Florence, my punishment +should be according to that awarded in such a case. He, therefore, +with his father had now read day and night in the archives, and had, at +length, found a case similar to mine, the punishment for which was that +the perpetrator should have his left hand cut off, his property +confiscated, and that he himself should be banished for life. This was +now my sentence, and I was to prepare for the painful moment which +awaited me. I will spare you this terrible moment: in the open +market-place I placed my hand on the block, and my own blood gushed +over me. + +When all was over, Valetti took me to his house until my recovery was +completed, and then nobly provided me with money for my journey, for +all I had earned with so much labour had been taken from me. From +Florence I went to Sicily, and thence by the first ship to +Constantinople. Here I hoped to find the sum of money I had left with +my friend, and begged him to receive me into his house, but what was my +astonishment when he inquired why I did not take possession of my own? +He informed me that a stranger had purchased a house in my name in the +quarter of the Greeks, and had told the neighbours that I was soon +coming. I immediately repaired thither with my friend, and was +joyfully welcomed by all my old acquaintance. An aged merchant gave me +a letter that had been left by the purchaser of the house for me. Its +contents were as follows: + +“Zaleukos! _Two_ hands shall be constantly ready to work for you that +you may not feel the loss of the _one_. The house you now own with all +in it is yours, and you will receive every year sufficient to make you +rank among the wealthy of your countrymen. May you forgive him who is +more wretched than yourself!” + +I could guess who was the writer of these lines, and the merchant told +me, on inquiry, that he took the stranger, who wore a red cloak, for a +Frank. I now knew sufficient to convince me that the stranger was not +devoid of generous feelings. I found all in my new house arranged +admirably, and also a shop with goods more beautiful than I ever +possessed. Ten years have now elapsed, and I have continued my +commercial travels more from former habit than necessity, yet I have +never again seen the country where I met such a misfortune. Ever since +I have annually received a thousand gold pieces, but though I rejoice +to know that that unfortunate man is generous, he cannot with his money +relieve my soul from its grief, for the awful picture of the murdered +Bianca will for ever be present with me. + +C. A. F. + + + + +THE END. + + + + +C. 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