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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Stories by Foreign Authors: German, Volume 2, 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: Stories by Foreign Authors: German, Volume 2
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: October 19, 2002 [eBook #6022]
+[Most recently updated: November 7, 2021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Nicole Apostola, Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES BY FOREIGN AUTHORS: GERMAN ***
+
+
+
+
+STORIES BY FOREIGN AUTHORS
+
+GERMAN
+
+
+CHRISTIAN GELLERT’S LAST CHRISTMAS …… BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH
+A GHETTO VIOLET …… BY LEOPOLD KOMPERT
+THE SEVERED HAND …… BY WILHELM HAUFF
+PETER SCHLEMIHL …… BY ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO
+
+
+
+
+PUBLISHERS’ NOTE
+
+
+The translations in this volume, where previously published, are used
+by arrangement with the owners of the copyrights (as specified at the
+beginning of each story). Translations made especially for the series
+are covered by its general copyright. All rights in both classes are
+reserved.
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+ CHRISTIAN GELLERT’S LAST CHRISTMAS — BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH
+ A GHETTO VIOLET — BY LEOPOLD KOMPERT
+ THE SEVERED HAND — BY WILHELM HAUFF
+ PETER SCHLEMIHL — BY ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO
+
+
+
+
+CHRISTIAN GELLERT’S LAST CHRISTMAS
+
+BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH
+
+
+Three o’clock had just struck from the tower of St. Nicholas, Leipzig,
+on the afternoon of December 22d, 1768, when a man, wrapped in a loose
+overcoat, came out of the door of the University. His countenance was
+exceedingly gentle, and on his features cheerfulness still lingered,
+for he had been gazing upon a hundred cheerful faces; after him
+thronged a troop of students, who, holding back, allowed him to precede
+them: the passengers in the streets saluted him, and some students, who
+pressed forwards and hurried past him homewards, saluted him quite
+reverentially. He returned their salutations with a surprised and
+almost deprecatory air, and yet he knew, and could not conceal from
+himself, that he was one of the best beloved, not only in the good city
+of Leipzig, but in all lands far and wide.
+
+It was Christian Furchtegott Gellert, the Poet of Fables, Hymns, and
+Lays, who was just leaving his college.
+
+When we read his “Lectures upon Morals,” which were not printed until
+after his death, we obtain but a very incomplete idea of the great
+power with which they came immediately from Gellert’s mouth. Indeed, it
+was his voice, and the touching manner in which he delivered his
+lectures, that made so deep an impression upon his hearers; and Rabener
+was right when once he wrote to a friend, that “the philanthropic
+voice” of Gellert belonged to his words.
+
+Above all, however, it was the amiable and pure personal character of
+Gellert which vividly and edifyingly impressed young hearts. Gellert
+was himself the best example of pure moral teaching; and the best which
+a teacher can give his pupils is faith in the victorious might, and the
+stability of the eternal moral laws. His lessons were for the Life, for
+his life in itself was a lesson. Many a victory over the troubles of
+life, over temptations of every kind, ay, many an elevation to nobility
+of thought, and to purity of action, had its origin in that
+lecture-hall, at the feet of Gellert.
+
+It was as though Gellert felt that it was the last time he would
+deliver these lectures; that those words so often and so impressively
+uttered would be heard no more from his mouth; and there was a peculiar
+sadness, yet a peculiar strength, in all he said that day.
+
+He had this day earnestly recommended modesty and humility; and it
+appeared almost offensive to him, that people as he went should tempt
+him in regard to these very virtues; for continually he heard men
+whisper, “That is Gellert!”
+
+What is fame, and what is honor? A cloak of many colors, without
+warmth, without protection: and now, as he walked along, his heart
+literally froze in his bosom, as he confessed to himself that he had as
+yet done nothing—nothing which could give him a feeling of real
+satisfaction. Men honored him and loved him: but what was all that
+worth? His innermost heart could not be satisfied with that; in his own
+estimation he deserved no meed of praise; and where, where was there
+any evidence of that higher and purer life which he would fain bring
+about! Then, again, the Spirit would comfort him and say: “Much seed is
+lost, much falls in stony places, and much on good ground and brings
+forth sevenfold.”
+
+His inmost soul heard not the consolation, for his body was weak and
+sore burdened from his youth up, and in his latter days yet more than
+ever; and there are conditions of the body in which the most elevating
+words, and the cheeriest notes of joy, strike dull and heavy on the
+soul. It is one of the bitterest experiences of life to discover how
+little one man can really be to another. How joyous is that youthful
+freshness which can believe that, by a thought transferred to another’s
+heart, we can induce him to become another being, to live according to
+what he must acknowledge true, to throw aside his previous delusions,
+and return to the right path!
+
+The youngsters go their way! Do your words follow after? Whither are
+they going? What are now their thoughts? What manner of life will be
+theirs? “My heart yearns after them, but cannot be with them: oh, how
+happy were those messengers of the Spirit, who cried aloud to youth or
+manhood the words of the Spirit, that they must leave their former
+ways, and thenceforth change to other beings! Pardon me, O God! that I
+would fain be like them; I am weak and vile, and yet, methinks, there
+must be words as yet unheard, unknown—oh! where are they, those words
+which at once lay hold upon the soul?”
+
+With such heavy thoughts went Gellert away from his college-gate to
+Rosenthal. There was but one small pathway cleared, but the passers
+cheerfully made way for him, and walked in the snow that they might
+leave him the pathway unimpeded; but he felt sad, and “as if each tree
+had somewhat to cast at him.” Like all men really pure, and cleaving to
+the good with all their might, Gellert was not only far from contenting
+himself with work already done: he also, in his anxiety to be doing,
+almost forgot that he had ever done anything, and thus he was, in the
+best sense of the word, modest; he began with each fresh day his course
+of action afresh, as if he now for the first time had anything to
+accomplish. And yet he might have been happy, in the reflection how
+brightly beamed his teaching for ever, though his own life was often
+clouded. For as the sun which glows on summer days still lives as
+concentrated warmth in wine, and somewhere on some winter night warms
+up a human heart, so is the sunshine in that man’s life whose vocation
+it is to impart to others the conceptions of his own mind. Nay, there
+is here far more; for the refreshing draught here offered is not
+diminished, though thousands drink thereof.
+
+Twilight had set in when Gellert returned home to his dwelling, which
+had for its sign a “Schwarz Brett” or “black board.” His old servant,
+Sauer by name, took off his overcoat; and his amanuensis, Gödike, asked
+whether the Professor had any commands; being answered in the negative,
+Gödike retired, and Sauer lighted the lamp upon the study-table. “Some
+letters have arrived,” said he, as he pointed to several upon the
+table: Gellert inclined his head, and Sauer retired also. Outside,
+however, he stood awhile with Gödike, and both spoke sorrowfully of the
+fact that the Professor was evidently again suffering severely. “There
+is a melancholy,” said Gödike, “ and it is the most usual, in which the
+inward depression easily changes to displeasure against every one, and
+the household of the melancholic suffers thereby intolerably; for the
+displeasure turns against them,—no one does anything properly, nothing
+is in its place. How very different is Gellert’s melancholy! Not a soul
+suffers from it but himself, against himself alone his gloomy thoughts
+turn, and towards every other creature he is always kind, amiable, and
+obliging: he bites his lips; but when he speaks to any one, he is
+wholly good, forbearing, and self-forgetful.
+
+Whilst they were talking together, Gellert was sitting in his room, and
+had lighted a pipe to dispel the agitation which he would experience in
+opening his letters; and while smoking, he could read them much more
+comfortably. He reproached himself for smoking, which was said to be
+injurious to his health, but he could not quite give up the “horrible
+practice,” as he called it.
+
+He first examined the addresses and seals of the letters which had
+arrived, then quietly opened and read them. A fitful smile passed over
+his features; there were letters from well-known friends, full of love
+and admiration, but from strangers also, who, in all kinds of
+heart-distress, took counsel of him. He read the letters full of
+friendly applause, first hastily, that he might have the right of
+reading them again, and that he might not know all at once; and when he
+had read a friend’s letter for the second time, he sprang from his seat
+and cried, “Thank God! thank God! that I am so fortunate as to have
+such friends!” To his inwardly diffident nature these helps were a real
+requirement; they served to cheer him, and only those who did not know
+him called his joy at the reception of praise—conceit; it was, on the
+contrary, the truest modesty. How often did he sit there, and all that
+he had taught and written, all that he had ever been to men in word and
+deed, faded, vanished, and died away, and he appeared to himself but a
+useless servant of the world. His friends he answered immediately; and
+as his inward melancholy vanished, and the philanthropy, nay, the
+sprightliness of his soul beamed forth, when he was among men and
+looked in a living face, so was it also with his letters. When he
+bethought him of the friends to whom he was writing, he not only
+acquired tranquillity, that virtue for which his whole life long he
+strove; but his loving nature received new life, and only by slight
+intimations did he betray the heaviness and dejection which weighed
+upon his soul. He was, in the full sense of the word, “philanthropic,”
+in the sight of good men; and in thoughts for their welfare, there was
+for him a real happiness and a joyous animation.
+
+When, however, he had done writing and felt lonely again, the gloomy
+spirits came back: he had seated himself, wishing to raise his thoughts
+for composing a sacred song; but he was ill at ease, and had no power
+to express that inward, firm, and self-rejoicing might of faith which
+lived in him. Again and again the scoffers and free-thinkers rose up
+before his thoughts: he must refute their objections, and not until
+that was done did he become himself.
+
+It is a hard position, when a creative spirit cannot forget the
+adversaries which on all sides oppose him in the world: they come
+unsummoned to the room and will not be expelled; they peer over the
+shoulder, and tug at the hand which fain would write; they turn images
+upside down, and distort the thoughts; and here and there, from ceiling
+and wall, they grin, and scoff, and oppose: and what was just gushing
+as an aspiration from the soul, is converted to a confused absurdity.
+
+At such a time, the spirit, courageous and self-dependent, must take
+refuge in itself and show a firm front to a world of foes.
+
+A strong nature boldly hurls his inkstand at the Devil’s head; goes to
+battle with his opponents with words both written and spoken; and keeps
+his own individuality free from the perplexities with which opponents
+disturb all that has been previously done, and make the soul
+unsteadfast and unnerved for what is to come.
+
+Gellert’s was no battling, defiant nature, which relies upon itself; he
+did not hurl his opponents down and go his way; he would convince them,
+and so they were always ready to encounter him. And as the applause of
+his friends rejoiced him, so the opposition of his enemies could sink
+him in deep dejection. Besides, he had always been weakly; he had, as
+he himself complained, in addition to frequent coughs and a pain in his
+loins, a continual gnawing and pressure in the centre of his chest,
+which accompanied him from his first rising in the morning until he
+slept at night.
+
+Thus he sat for a while, in deep dejection: and, as often before, his
+only wish was, that God would give him grace whereby when his hour was
+come, he might die piously and tranquilly.
+
+It was past midnight when he sought his bed and extinguished his light.
+
+And the buckets at the well go up and go down.
+
+About the same hour, in Duben Forest, the rustic Christopher was rising
+from his bed. As with steel and flint he scattered sparks upon the
+tinder, in kindling himself a light, his wife, awakening, cried:
+
+“Why that heavy sigh?”
+
+“Ah! life is a burden: I’m the most harassed mortal in the world. The
+pettiest office-clerk may now be abed in peace, and needn’t break off
+his sleep, while I must go out and brave wind and weather.”
+
+“Be content,” replied his wife: “why, I dreamt you had actually been
+made magistrate, and wore something on your head like a king’s crown.”
+
+“Oh! you women; as though what you see isn’t enough, you like to
+chatter about what you dream.”
+
+“Light the lamp, too,” said his wife, “and I’ll get up and make you a
+nice porridge.”
+
+The peasant, putting a candle in his lantern, went to the stable; and
+after he had given some fodder to the horses, he seated himself upon
+the manger. With his hands squeezed between his knees and his head bent
+down, he reflected over and over again what a wretched existence he had
+of it. “Why,” thought he, “are so many men so well-off, so comfortable,
+whilst you must be always toiling? What care I if envy be not a
+virtue?—and yet I’m not envious, I don’t grudge others being well-off,
+only I should like to be well-off too; oh, for a quiet, easy life! Am I
+not worse off than a horse? He gets his fodder at the proper time, and
+takes no care about it. Why did my father make my brother a minister?
+He gets his salary without any trouble, sits in a warm room, has no
+care in the world; and I must slave and torment myself.”
+
+Strange to say, his very next thought, that he would like to be made
+local magistrate, he would in no wise confess to himself.
+
+He sat still a long while; then he went back again to the sitting-room,
+past the kitchen, where the fire was burning cheerily. He seated
+himself at the table and waited for his morning porridge. On the table
+lay an open book; his children had been reading it the previous
+evening: involuntarily taking it up, he began to read. Suddenly he
+started, rubbed his eyes, and then read again. How comes this verse
+here just at this moment? He kept his hand upon the book, and so easily
+had he caught the words, that he repeated them to himself softly with
+his lips, and nodded several times, as much as to say: “That’s true!”
+And he said aloud: “It’s all there together: short and sweet!” and he
+was still staring at it, when his wife brought in the smoking porridge.
+Taking off his cap, he folded his hands and said aloud:
+
+“Accept God’s gifts with resignation,
+    Content to lack what thou hast not:
+In every lot there’s consolation;
+    There’s trouble, too, in every lot!”
+
+
+The wife looked at her husband with amazement. What a strange
+expression was upon his face! And as he sat down and began to eat, she
+said: “What is the meaning of that grace? What has to you? Where did
+you find it?”
+
+“It the best of all graces, the very best,—real God’s word. Yes, and
+all your life you’ve never made such nice porridge before. You must
+have put something special in it!”
+
+“I don’t know what you mean. Stop! There’s the book lying there—ah!
+that’s it—and it’s by Gellert, of Leipzig.”
+
+“What! Gellert, of Leipzig! Men with ideas like that don’t live now;
+there may have been such, a thousand years ago, in holy lands, not
+among us; those are the words of a saint of old.”
+
+“And I tell you they are by Gellert, of Leipzig, of whom your brother
+has told us; in fact, he was his tutor, and haven’t you heard how pious
+and good he is?”
+
+“I wouldn’t have believed that such men still lived, and so near us,
+too, as Leipzig.”
+
+“Well, but those who lived a thousand years ago were also once living
+creatures: and over Leipzig is just the same heaven, and the same sun
+shines, and the same God rules, as over all other cities.”
+
+“Oh! yes, my brother has an apt pupil in you!”
+
+“Well, and why not? I’ve treasured up all he told us of Professor
+Gellert.”
+
+“Professor!”
+
+“Yes, Professor!”
+
+“A man with such a proud, new-fangled title couldn’t write anything
+like that!”
+
+“He didn’t give himself the title, and he is poor enough withal! and
+how hard it has fared with him! Even from childhood he has been well
+acquainted with poverty: his father was a poor minister in Haynichen,
+with thirteen children; Gellert, when quite a little fellow, was
+obliged to be a copying office-clerk: who can tell whether he didn’t
+then contract that physical weakness of his? And now that he’s an old
+man, things will never go better with him; he has often no wood, and
+must be pinched with cold. It is with him, perhaps, as with that
+student of whom your brother has told us, who is as poor as a rat, and
+yet must read; and so in winter he lies in bed with an empty stomach,
+until day is far advanced; and he has his book before him, and first he
+takes out one hand to hold his book, and then, when that is numb with
+cold, the other. Ah! tongue cannot tell how poorly the man must live;
+and yet your brother has told me, if he has but a few pounds, he
+doesn’t think at all of himself; he always looks out for one still
+poorer than he is, and then gives all away: and he’s always engaged in
+aiding and assisting others. Oh! dear, and yet he is so poor! May be at
+this moment he is hungry and cold; and he is said to be in ill-health,
+besides.”
+
+“Wife, I would willingly do the man a good turn if I could. If, now, he
+had some land, I could plough, and sow, and reap, and carry, and thresh
+by the week together for him. I should like to pay him attention in
+such a way that he might know there was at least one who cared for him.
+But his profession is one in which I can’t be of any use to him.”
+
+“Well, just seek him out and speak with him once; you are going to-day,
+you know, with your wood to Leipzig. Seek him out and thank him; that
+sort of thing does such a man’s heart good. Anybody can see him.”
+
+“Yes, yes; I should like much to see him, and hold out to him my
+hand,—but not empty: I wish I had something!”
+
+“Speak to your brother, and get him to give you a note to him.”
+
+“No, no; say nothing to my brother; but it might be possible for me to
+meet him in the street. Give me my Sunday coat; it will come to no harm
+under my cloak.”
+
+When his wife brought him the coat, she said: “If, now, Gellert had a
+wife, or a household of his own, one might send him something; but your
+brother says he is a bachelor, and lives quite alone.”
+
+Christopher had never before so cheerfully harnessed his horses and put
+them to his wood-laden wagon; for a long while he had not given his
+hand so gayly to his wife at parting as to-day. Now he started with his
+heavily-laden vehicle through the village; the wheels creaked and
+crackled in the snow. At the parsonage he stopped, and looked away
+yonder where his brother was still sleeping; he thought he would wake
+him and tell him his intention: but suddenly he whipped up his horses,
+and continued his route. He wouldn’t yet bind himself to his
+intention—perchance it was but a passing thought; he doesn’t own that
+to himself, but he says to himself that he will surprise his brother
+with the news of what he has done; and then his thoughts wandered away
+to the good man still sleeping yonder in the city; and he hummed the
+verse to himself in an old familiar tune.
+
+Wonderfully in life do effects manifest themselves, of which we have no
+trace. Gellert, too, heard in his dreams a singing; he knew not what it
+was, but it rang so consolingly, so joyously! … Christopher drove on,
+and he felt as though a bandage had been taken from his eyes; he
+reflected what a nice house, what a bonny wife and rosy children he
+had, and how warm the cloak which he had thrown over him was, and how
+well off were both man and beast; and through the still night he drove
+along, and beside him sat a spirit; but not an illusion of the brain,
+such as in olden time men conjured up to their terror, a good spirit
+sat beside him—beside the woodman who his whole life long had never
+believed that anything could have power over him but what had hands and
+feet.
+
+It is said that, on troublous nights, evil spirits settle upon the
+necks of men, and belabor them so that they gasp and sweat for very
+terror; quite another sort it was to-day which sat by the woodman: and
+his heart was warm, and its beating quick.
+
+In ancient times, men also carried loads of wood through the night,
+that heretics might be burned thereon: these men thought they were
+doing a good deed in helping to execute justice; and who can say how
+painful it was to their hearts, when they were forced to think:
+To-morrow, on this wood which now you carry, will shriek, and crackle,
+and gasp, a human being like yourself? Who can tell what black spirits
+settled on the necks of those who bore the wood to make the
+funeral-pile? How very different was it to-day with our woodman
+Christopher!
+
+And earlier still, in ancient times, men brought wood to the temple,
+whereon they offered victims in the honor of God; and, according to
+their notions, they did a good deed: for when words can no longer
+suffice to express the fervency of the heart, it gladly offers what it
+prizes, what it dearly loves, as a proof of its devotion, of the
+earnestness of its intent.
+
+How differently went Christopher from the Duben Forest upon his way! He
+knew not whether he were intending to bring a purer offering than men
+had brought in bygone ages; but his heart grew warm within him.
+
+It was day as he arrived before the gates of Leipzig. Here there met
+him a funeral-procession; behind the bier the scholars of St. Thomas,
+in long black cloaks, were chanting. Christopher stopped and raised his
+hat. Whom were they burying? Supposing it were Gellert.—Yes, surely, he
+thought, it is he: and how gladly, said he to himself, would you now
+have done him a kindness—ay, even given him your wood! Yes, indeed you
+would, and now he is dead, and you cannot give him any help!
+
+As soon as the train had passed, Christopher asked who was being
+buried. It was a simple burgher, it was not Gellert; and in the deep
+breath which Christopher drew lay a double signification: on the one
+hand, was joy that Gellert was not dead; on the other, a still small
+voice whispered to him that he had now really promised to give him the
+wood: ah! but whom had he promised?—himself: and it is easy to argue
+with one’s own conscience.
+
+Superstition babbles of conjuring-spells, by which, without the
+co-operation of the patient, the evil spirit can be summarily ejected.
+It would be convenient if one had that power, but, in truth, it is not
+so: it is long ere the evil desire and the evil habit are removed from
+the soul into which they have nestled; and the will, for a long while
+in bondage, must co-operate, if a releasing spell from without is to
+set the prisoner free. One can only be guided, but himself must move
+his feet.
+
+As Christopher now looked about him, he found that he had stopped close
+by an inn; he drove his load a little aside, went into the parlor, and
+drank a glass of warmed beer. There was already a goodly company, and
+not far from Christopher sat a husbandman with his son, a student here,
+who was telling him how there had been lately quite a stir. Professor
+Gellert had been ill, and riding a well-trained horse had been
+recommended for his health. Now Prince Henry of Prussia, during the
+Seven Years’ War, at the occupation of Leipzig, had sent him a piebald,
+that had died a short time ago; and the Elector, hearing of it, had
+sent Gellert from Dresden another—a chestnut—with golden bridle, blue
+velvet saddle, and gold-embroidered housings. Half the city had
+assembled when the groom, a man with iron-gray hair, brought the horse;
+and for several days it was to be seen at the stable; but Gellert dared
+not mount it, it was so young and high-spirited. The rustic now asked
+his son whether the Professor did not make money enough to procure a
+horse of his own, to which the son answered: “Certainly not. His salary
+is but one hundred and twenty-five dollars, and his further gains are
+inconsiderable. His Lectures on Morals he gives publicly, i.e., gratis,
+and he has hundreds of hearers; and, therefore, at his own lectures,
+which must be paid for, he has so many the fewer. To be sure, he has
+now and then presents from grand patrons; but no one gives him, once
+and for all, enough to live upon, and to have all over with a single
+acknowledgment.”
+
+Our friend Christopher started as he heard this; he had quite made up
+his mind to take Gellert the wood: but he had yet to do it. How easy
+were virtue, if will and deed were the same thing! if performance could
+immediately succeed to the moment of burning enthusiasm! But one must
+make way over obstacles; over those that outwardly lie in one’s path,
+and over those that are hidden deep in the heart; and negligence has a
+thousand very cunning advocates.
+
+How many go forth, prompted by good intentions, but let little
+hindrances turn them from their way—entirely from their way of life! In
+front of the house Christopher met other woodmen whom he knew, and—“You
+are stirring betimes!” “Prices are good to-day!” “But little comes to
+the market now!” was the cry from all sides. Christopher wanted to say
+that all that didn’t concern him, but he was ashamed to confess that
+his design was, and an inward voice told him he must not lie. Without
+answering he joined the rest, and wended his way to the market; and on
+the road he thought: “There are Peter, and Godfrey, and John, who have
+seven times your means, and not one of them, I’m sure, would think of
+doing anything of this kind; why will you be the kind-hearted fool?
+Stay! what matters it what others do or leave undone? Every man shall
+answer for himself. Yes, but go to market—it is better it should be so;
+yes, certainly, much better: sell your wood—who knows? perhaps he
+doesn’t want it—and take him the proceeds, or at least the greater
+portion. But is the wood still yours? You have, properly speaking,
+already given it away; it has only not been taken from your keeping….”
+
+There are people who cannot give; they can only let a thing be taken
+either by the hand of chance, or by urgency and entreaty. Christopher
+had such fast hold of possession, that it was only after sore wrestling
+that he let go; and yet his heart was kind, at least to-day it was so
+disposed, but the tempter whispered: “It is not easy to find so
+good-natured a fellow as you. How readily would you have given, had the
+man been in want, and your good intention must go for the deed.” Still,
+on the other hand, there was something in him which made opposition,—an
+echo from those hours, when, in the still night, he was driving
+hither,—and it burned in him like sacred fire, and it said, “You must
+now accomplish what you intended. Certainly no one knows of it, and you
+are responsible to no one; but you know of it yourself, and One above
+you knows, and how shall you be justified?” And he said to himself,
+“I’ll stand by this: look, it is just nine; if no one ask the price of
+your wood until ten o’clock, until the stroke of ten,—until it has done
+striking, I mean; if no one ask, then the wood belongs to Professor
+Gellert: but if a buyer come, then it is a sign that you need
+not—should not give it away. There, that’s all settled. But how? what
+means this? Can you make your good deed dependent on such a chance as
+this? No, no; I don’t mean it. But yet—yet—only for a joke, I’ll try
+it.”
+
+Temptation kept him turning as it were in a circle, and still he stood
+with an apparently quiet heart by his wagon in the market. The people
+who heard him muttering in this way to himself looked at him with
+wonder, and passed by him to another wagon, as though he had not been
+there. It struck nine. Can you wait patiently another hour? Christopher
+lighted his pipe, and looked calmly on, while this and that load was
+driven off. It struck the quarter, half-hour, three-quarters.
+Christopher now put his pipe in his pocket; it had long been cold, and
+his hands were almost frozen; all his blood had rushed to his heart.
+Now it struck the full hour, stroke after stroke. At first he counted;
+then he fancied he had lost a stroke and miscalculated. Either
+voluntarily or involuntarily, he said to himself, when it had finished
+striking, “You’re wrong; it is nine, not ten.” He turned round that he
+might not see the dial, and thus he stood for some time, with his hands
+upon the wagon-rack, gazing at the wood. He knew not how long he had
+been thus standing, when some one tapped him on the shoulder, and said,
+“How much for the load of wood?”
+
+Christopher turned round: there was an odd look of irresolution in his
+eyes as he said: “Eh? eh? what time is it?”
+
+“Half-past ten.”
+
+“Then the wood is now no longer mine—at least to sell:” and, collecting
+himself, he became suddenly warm, and with firm hand turned his horses
+round, and begged the woodmen who accompanied him to point him out the
+way to the house with the “Schwarz Brett,” Dr. Junius’s. There he
+delivered a full load: at each log he took out of the wagon he smiled
+oddly. The wood-measurer measured the wood carefully, turning each log
+and placing it exactly, that there might not be a crevice anywhere.
+
+“Why are you so over-particular to-day, pray?” asked Christopher, and
+he received for answer:
+
+“Professor Gellert must have a fair load; every shaving kept back from
+him were a sin.”
+
+Christopher laughed aloud, and the wood-measurer looked at him with
+amazement; for such particularity generally provoked a quarrel.
+Christopher had still some logs over; these he kept by him on the
+wagon. At this moment the servant Sauer came up, and asked to whom the
+wood belonged.
+
+“To Professor Gellert,” answered Christopher.
+
+“The man’s mad! it isn’t true. Professor Gellert has not bought any
+wood; it is my business to look after that.”
+
+“He has not bought it, and yet it is his!” cried Christopher.
+
+Sauer was on the point of giving the mad peasant a hearty scolding,
+raising his voice so much the louder, as it was striking eleven by St.
+Nicholas. At this moment, however, he became suddenly mute; for yonder
+from the University there came, with tired gait, a man of a noble
+countenance: at every step he made, on this side and on that, off came
+the hats and the caps of the passers-by, and Sauer simply called out,
+“There comes the Professor himself.”
+
+What a peculiar expression passed over Christopher’s face! He looked at
+the new-comer, and so earnest was his gaze, that Gellert, who always
+walked with his head bowed, suddenly looked up. Christopher said: “Mr.
+Gellert, I am glad to see you still alive.”
+
+“I thank you,” said Gellert, and made as though he would pass on; but
+Christopher stepped up closer to him, and, stretching out his hand to
+him, said: “I have taken the liberty—I should like—will you give me
+your hand, Mr. Gellert?”
+
+Gellert drew his long thin hand out of his muff and placed it in the
+hard oaken-like hand of the peasant; and at this moment, when the
+peasant’s hand lay in the scholar’s palm, as one felt the other’s
+pressure in actual living grasp, there took place, though the mortal
+actors in the scene were all unconscious of it, a renewal of that
+healthy life which alone can make a people one.
+
+How long had the learned world, wrapped up in itself, separated from
+the fellow-men around, thought in Latin, felt as foreigners, and lived
+buried in contemplation of bygone worlds! From the time of Gellert
+commences the ever-increasing unity of good-fellowship throughout all
+classes of life, kept up by mutual giving and receiving. As the
+scholar—as the solitary poet endeavors to work upon others by lays that
+quicken and songs that incite, so he in his turn is a debtor to his
+age, and the lonely thinking and writing become the property of all;
+but the effects are not seen in a moment; for higher than the most
+highly gifted spirit of any single man is the spirit of a nation. With
+the pressure which Gellert and the peasant exchanged commenced a mighty
+change in universal life, which never more can cease to act.
+
+“Permit me to enter your room?” said Christopher, and Gellert nodded
+assent. He was so courteous that he motioned to the peasant to enter
+first; however, Sauer went close after him: he thought it must be a
+madman; he must protect his master; the man looked just as if he were
+drunk. Gellert, with his amanuensis, Gödike, followed them.
+
+Gellert, however, felt that the man must be actuated by pure motives:
+he bade the others retire, and took Christopher alone into his study;
+and, as he clasped his left with his own right hand, he asked: “Well,
+my good friend, what is your business?”
+
+“Eh? oh! nothing—I’ve only brought you a load of wood there—a fair,
+full load; however, I’ll give you the few logs which I have in my
+wagon, as well.”
+
+“My good man, my servant Sauer looks after buying my wood.”
+
+“It is no question of buying. No, my dear sir, I give it to you.”
+
+“Give it to me? Why me particularly?”
+
+“Oh! sir, you do not know at all what good you do, what good you have
+done me; and my wife was right; why should there not be really pious
+men in our day too? Surely the sun still shines as he shone thousands
+of years ago; all is now the same as then; and the God of old is still
+living.”
+
+“Certainly, certainly; I am glad to see you so pious.”
+
+“Ah! believe me, dear sir, I am not always so pious; and that I am so
+disposed today is owing to you. We have no more confessionals now, but
+I can confess to you: and you have taken a heavier load from my heart
+than a wagon-load of wood. Oh! sir, I am not what I was. In my early
+days I was a high-spirited, merry lad, and out in the field, and
+indoors in the inn and the spinning-room, there was none who could sing
+against me; but that is long past. What has a man on whose head the
+grave-blossoms are growing,” and he pointed to his gray head, “to do
+with all that trash? And besides, the Seven Years’ War has put a stop
+to all our singing. But last night, in the midst of the fearful cold, I
+sang a lay set expressly for me—all old tunes go to it: and it seemed
+to me as though I saw a sign-post which pointed I know not whither—or,
+nay, I do know whither.” And now the peasant related how discontented
+and unhappy in mind he had been, and how the words in the lay had all
+at once raised his spirits and accompanied him upon the journey, like a
+good fellow who talks to one cheerfully.
+
+At this part of the peasant’s tale Gellert folded his hands in silence,
+and the peasant concluded: “How I always envied others, I cannot now
+think why; but you I do envy, sir: I should like to be as you.”
+
+And Gellert answered: “I thank God, and rejoice greatly that my
+writings have been of service to you. Think not so well of me. Would
+God I were really the good man I appear in your eyes! I am far from
+being such as I should, such as I would fain be. I write my books for
+my own improvement also, to show myself as well as others what manner
+of men we should be.”
+
+Laughing, the peasant replied: “You put me in mind of the story my poor
+mother used to tell of the old minister; he stood up once in the pulpit
+and said: ‘My dear friends, I speak not only for you, but for myself
+also; I, too, have need of it.’”
+
+Christopher laughed outrageously when he had finished, and Gellert
+smiled, and said: “Yes, whoever in the darkness lighteth another with a
+lamp, lighteth himself also; and the light is not part of ourselves,—it
+is put into our hands by Him who hath appointed the suns their
+courses.”
+
+The peasant stood speechless, and looked upon the ground: there was
+something within him which took away the power of looking up; he was
+only conscious that it ill became him to laugh so loudly just now, when
+he told the story of the old minister.
+
+A longer pause ensued, and Gellert seemed to be lost in reflection upon
+this reference to a minister’s work, for he said half to himself: “Oh!
+how would it fulfil my dearest wish to be a village-pastor! To move
+about among my people, and really be one with them; the friend of their
+souls my whole life long, never to lose them out of my sight! Yonder
+goes one whom I have led into the right way; there another, with whom I
+still wrestle, but whom I shall assuredly save; and in them all the
+teaching lives which God proclaims by me. Did I not think that I should
+be acting against my duty, I would this moment choose a country life
+for the remnant of my days. When I look from my window over the
+country, I have before me the broad sky, of which we citizens know but
+little, a scene entirely new; there I stand and lose myself for half an
+hour in gazing and in thinking. Yes, good friend, envy no man in the
+rank of scholars. Look at me; I am almost always ill; and what a burden
+is a sickly body! How strong, on the contrary, are you! I am never
+happier than when, without being remarked, I can watch a dinner-table
+thronged by hungry men and maids. Even if these folks be not generally
+so happy as their superiors, at table they are certainly happier.”
+
+“Yes, sir; we relish our eating and drinking. And, lately, when felling
+and sorting that wood below, I was more than usually lively; it seems
+as though I had a notion I was to do some good with it.”
+
+“And must I permit you to make me a present?” asked Gellert, resting
+his chin upon his left hand.
+
+The peasant answered: “It is not worth talking about.”
+
+“Nay, it might be well worth talking about; but I accept your present.
+It is pride not to be ready to accept a gift. Is not all we have a gift
+from God? And what one man gives another, he gives, as is most
+appropriately said, for God’s sake. Were I your minister, I should be
+pleased to accept a present from you. You see, good friend, we men have
+no occasion to thank each other. You have given me nothing of yours,
+and I have given you nothing of mine. That the trees grow in the forest
+is none of your doing, it is the work of the Creator and Preserver of
+the world; and the soil is not yours; and the sun and the rain are not
+yours; they all are the works of His hand; and if, perchance, I have
+some healthy thoughts rising up in my soul, which benefit my
+fellow-men, it is none of mine, it is His doing. The word is not mine,
+and the spirit is not mine; and I am but an instrument in His hand.
+Therefore one man needs not to utter words of thanks to his fellow, if
+every one would but acknowledge who it really is that gives.”
+
+The peasant looked up in astonishment. Gellert remarked it, and said:
+“Understand me aright. I thank you from my heart; you have done a kind
+action. But that the trees grow is none of yours, and it is none of
+mine that thoughts arise in me; every one simply tills his field, and
+tends his woodland, and the honest, assiduous toil he gives thereto is
+his virtue. That you felled, loaded, and brought the wood, and wish no
+recompense for your labor, is very thank-worthy. My wood was more
+easily felled; but those still nights which I and all of my calling
+pass in heavy thought—who can tell what toil there is in them? There is
+in the world an adjustment which no one sees, and which but seldom
+discovers itself; and this and that shift thither and hither, and the
+scales of the balance become even, and then ceases all distinction
+between ‘mine’ and ‘thine,’ and in the still forest rings an axe for
+me, and in the silent night my spirit thinks and my pen writes for
+you.”
+
+The peasant passed both his hands over his temples, and his look was as
+though he said to himself, “Where are you? Are you still in the world?
+Is it a mortal man who speaks to you? Are you in Leipzig, in that
+populous city where men jostle one another for gain and bare
+existence?”
+
+Below might be heard the creaking of the saw as the wood was being
+sundered: and now the near horse neighs, and Christopher is in the
+world again. “It may injure the horse to stand so long in the cold; and
+no money for the wood! but perhaps a sick horse to take home into the
+bargain; that would be too much,” he thought.
+
+“Yes, yes, Mr. Professor,” said he—he had his hat under his arm, and
+was rubbing his hands—“yes, I am delighted with what I have done; and I
+value the lesson, believe me, more than ten loads of wood: and never
+shall I forget you to my dying day. And though I see you are not so
+poor as I had imagined, still I don’t regret it. Oh! no, certainly not
+at all.”
+
+“Eh! did you think me so very poor, then?”
+
+“Yes, miserably poor.”
+
+“I have always been poor, but God has never suffered me to be a single
+day without necessaries. I have in the world much happiness which I
+have not deserved, and much unhappiness I have not, which perchance I
+have deserved. I have found much favor with both high and low, for
+which I cannot sufficiently thank God. And now tell me, cannot I give
+you something, or obtain something for you? You are a local magistrate,
+I presume?”
+
+“Why so?”
+
+“You look like it: you might be.”
+
+Christopher had taken his hat into his hands, and was crumpling it up
+now; he half closed his eyes, and with a sly, inquiring glance, he
+peered at Gellert. Suddenly, however, the expression of his face
+changed, and the muscles quivered, as he said: “Sir, what a man are
+you! How you can dive into the recesses of one’s heart! I have really
+pined night and day, and been cross with the whole world, because I
+could not be magistrate, and you, sir, you have actually helped to
+overcome that in me. Oh! sir, as soon as I read that verse in your
+book, I had an idea, and now I see still more plainly that you must be
+a man of God, who can pluck the heart from one’s bosom, and turn it
+round and round. I had thought I could never have another moment’s
+happiness, if my neighbor, Hans Gottlieb, should be magistrate: and
+with that verse of yours, it has been with me as when one calms the
+blood with a magic spell.”
+
+“Well, my good friend, I am rejoiced to hear it: believe me, every one
+has in himself alone a whole host to govern. What can so strongly urge
+men to wish to govern others? What can it profit you to be local
+magistrate, when to accomplish your object you must perhaps do
+something wrong? What were the fame, not only of a village, but even of
+the whole world, if you could have no self-respect? Let it suffice for
+you to perform your daily duties with uprightness; let your joys be
+centred in your wife and children, and you will be happy. What need you
+more? Think not that honor and station would make you happy. Rejoice,
+and again I say, rejoice: ‘A contented spirit is a continual feast.’ I
+often whisper this to myself, when I feel disposed to give way to
+dejection: and although misery be not our fault, yet lack of endurance
+and of patience in misery is undoubtedly our fault.”
+
+“I would my wife were here too, that she also might hear this; I grudge
+myself the hearing of it all alone; I cannot remember it all properly,
+and yet I should like to tell it to her word for word. Who would have
+thought that, by standing upon a load of wood, one could get a peep
+into heaven!”
+
+Gellert in silence bowed his head; and afterwards he said: “Yes,
+rejoice in your deed, as I do in your gift. Your wood is
+sacrificial-wood. In olden time—and it was right in principle, because
+man could not yet offer prayer and thanks in spirit—it was a custom and
+ordinance to bring something from one’s possessions, as a proof of
+devotion: this was a sacrifice. And the more important the gift to be
+given, or the request to be granted, the more costly was the sacrifice.
+Our God will have no victims; but whatsoever you do unto one of the
+least of His, you do unto Him. Such are our sacrifices. My dear friend,
+from my heart I thank you; for you have done me a kindness, in that you
+have given me a real, undeniable proof, that my words have penetrated
+your heart, and that I do not live on for nothing: and treasure it up
+in your heart, that you have caused real joy to one who is often, very
+often, weighed down with heaviness and sorrow. You have not only
+kindled bright tapers upon my Christmas-tree, but the tree itself
+burns, gives light, and warms: the bush burns, and is not consumed,
+which is an image of the presence of the Holy Spirit, and its
+admonition to trust in the Most High in this wilderness of life, in
+mourning and in woe. Oh! my dear friend, I have been nigh unto death.
+What a solemn, quaking stride is the stride into eternity! What a
+difference between ideas of death in the days of health, and on the
+brink of the grave! And how shall I show myself worthy of longer life?
+By learning better to die. And, mark, when I sit here in solitude
+pursuing my thoughts, keeping some and driving away others, then I can
+think, that in distant valleys, upon distant mountains, there are
+living men who carry my thoughts within their hearts; and for them I
+live, and they are near and dear to me, till one day we shall meet
+where there is no more parting, no more separation. Peasant and
+scholar, let us abide as we are. Give me your hand—farewell!”
+
+And once again, the soft and the hard hand were clasped together, and
+Christopher really trembled as Gellert laid his hand upon his shoulder.
+They shook hands, and therewith something touched the heart of each
+more impressively, more completely, than ever words could touch it.
+Christopher got downstairs without knowing how: below, he threw down
+the extra logs of wood, which he had kept back, with a clatter from the
+wagon, and then drove briskly from the city. Not till he arrived at
+Lindenthal did he allow himself and his horses rest or food. He had
+driven away empty: he had nothing on his wagon, nothing in his purse;
+and yet who can tell what treasures he took home; and who can tell what
+inextinguishable fire he left behind him yonder, by that lonely
+scholar!
+
+Gellert, who usually dined at his brother’s, today had dinner brought
+into his own room, remained quite alone, and did not go out again: he
+had experienced quite enough excitement, and society he had in his own
+thoughts. Oh! to find that there are open, susceptible hearts, is a
+blessing to him that writes in solitude, and is as wondrous to him as
+though he dipped his pen in streams of sunshine, and as if all he wrote
+were Light. The raindrop which falls from the cloud cannot tell upon
+what plant it drops: there is a quickening power in it, but for what?
+And a thought which finds expression from a human heart; an action,
+nay, a whole life is like the raindrop falling from the cloud: the
+whole period of a life endures no longer than the raindrop needs for
+falling. And as for knowing where your life is continued, how your work
+proceeds, you cannot attain to that.
+
+And in the night all was still around: nothing was astir; the whole
+earth was simple rest, as Gellert sat in his room by his lonely lamp;
+his hand lay upon an open book, and his eyes were fixed upon the empty
+air; and on a sudden came once more upon him that melancholy gloom,
+which so easily resumes its place after more than usual excitement.
+
+It is as though the soul, suddenly elevated above all, must still
+remember the heaviness it but now experienced, though that expresses
+itself as tears of joy in the eye.
+
+In Gellert, however, this melancholy had a more peculiar phase: a sort
+of timidity had rooted itself in him, connected with his weak chest,
+and that secret gnawing pain in his head; it was a fearfulness which
+his manner of life only tended to increase. Surrounded though he was by
+nothing but love and admiration in the world, he could not divest
+himself of the fear that all which is most horrible and terrible would
+burst suddenly upon him: and so he gazed fixedly before him. He passed
+his hand over his face, and with an effort concentrated his looks and
+thoughts upon surrounding objects, saying to himself almost aloud: “How
+comforting is light! Were there no light from without to illumine
+objects for us, we should perish in gloom, in the shadows of night. And
+light is a gentle friend that watches by us, and, when we are sunk in
+sorrow, points out to us that the world is still here, that it calls,
+and beckons us, and requires of us duty and cheerfulness. ‘You must not
+be lost in self,’ it says, ‘see! the world is still here:’ and a friend
+beside us is as a light which illumines surrounding objects; we cannot
+forget them, we must see them and mingle with them. How hard is life,
+and how little I accomplish! I would fain awaken the whole world to
+goodness and to love; but my voice is weak, my strength is
+insufficient: how insignificant is all I do!”
+
+And now he rose up and strode across the room; and he stood at the
+hearth where the fire was burning, made of wood given to him that very
+day, and his thoughts reverted to the man who had given it. Why had he
+not asked his name, and where he came from? Perchance he might have
+been able in thought to follow him all the way, as he drove home; and
+now … but yet ’tis more, ’tis better as it is: it is not an individual,
+it is not So-and-so, who has shown his gratitude, but all the world by
+the mouth of one. “The kindnesses I receive,” he thought, “are indeed
+trials; but yet I ought to accept them with thanks. I will try
+henceforth to be a benefactor to others as others are to me, without
+display, and with grateful thanks to God, our highest Benefactor: this
+will I do, and search no further for the why and for the wherefore.”
+And once more a voice spoke within him, and he stood erect, and raised
+his arms on high. “Who knows,” he thought, “whether at this moment I
+have not been in this or that place, to this or that man, a brother, a
+friend, a comforter, a saviour; and from house to house, may be, my
+spirit travels, awakening, enlivening, refreshing—yonder in the attic,
+where burns a solitary light; and afar in some village a mother is
+sitting by her child, and hearing him repeat the thoughts I have
+arranged in verse; and peradventure some solitary old man, who is
+waiting for death, is now sitting by his fireside, and his lips are
+uttering my words.”
+
+“And yonder in the church, the choir is chanting a hymn of yours; could
+you have written this hymn without its vigor in your heart? Oh! no, it
+MUST be there.” And with trembling he thought: “There is nothing so
+small as to have no place in the government of God! Should you not then
+believe that He suffered this day’s incident to happen for your joy?
+Oh! were it so, what happiness were yours! A heart renewed.” … He moved
+to the window, looked up to heaven, and prayed inwardly: “My soul is
+with my brothers and my sisters: nay, it is with Thee, my God, and in
+humility I acknowledge how richly Thou hast blessed me. And if, in the
+kingdom of the world to come, a soul should cry to me: ‘Thou didst
+guide and cheer me on to happiness eternal!’ all hail! my friend, my
+benefactor, my glory in the presence of God. … In these thoughts let me
+die, and pardon me my weakness and my sins!”
+
+“And the evening and morning were the first day.”
+
+At early morning, Gellert was sitting at his table, and reading
+according to his invariable custom, first of all in the Bible. He never
+left the Bible open—he always shut it with a peaceful, devotional air,
+after he had read therein: there was something grateful as well as
+reverential in his manner of closing the volume; the holy words should
+not lie uncovered.
+
+To-day, however, the Bible was lying open when he rose. His eye fell
+upon the history of the creation, and at the words, “And the evening
+and the morning were the first day,” he leaned back his head against
+the arm-chair, and kept his hand upon the book, as though he would
+grasp with his hand also the lofty thought, how night and day were
+divided.
+
+For a long while he sat thus, and he was wondrously bright in spirit,
+and a soft reminiscence dawned upon him; of a bright day in childhood,
+when he had been so happy, and in Haynichen, his native place, had gone
+out with his father for a walk. An inward warmth roused his heart to
+quicker pulsation; and suddenly he started and looked about him: he had
+been humming a tune.
+
+Up from the street came the busy sound of Jay: at other times how
+insufferable he had found it! and now how joyous it seemed that men
+should bestir themselves, and turn to all sorts of occupations! There
+was a sound of crumbling snow: and how nice to have a house and a blaze
+upon the hearth! “And the evening and the morning were the first day!”
+And man getteth himself a light in the darkness: but how long, O man!
+could you make it endure? What could you do with your artificial light,
+if God did not cause His sun to shine? Without it grows no grass, no
+corn. On the hand lying upon the book there fell a bright sunbeam. How
+soon, at other times, would Gellert have drawn the defensive curtain!
+Now he watches the little motes that play about in the sunbeam.
+
+The servant brought coffee, and the amanuensis, Gödike, asked if there
+were anything to do. Generally, Gellert scarce lifted his head from his
+books, hastily acknowledging the attention and reading on in silence;
+to-day, he motioned to Gödike to stay, and said to Sauer, “Another cup:
+Mr. Gödike will take coffee with me. God has given me a day of
+rejoicing.” Sauer brought the cup, and Gellert said: “Yes, God has
+given me a day of rejoicing, and what I am most thankful for is, that
+He has granted me strength to thank Him with all my heart: not so
+entirely, however, as I should like.”
+
+“Thank God, Mr. Professor, that you are once more in health, and
+cheerful: and permit me, Mr. Professor, to tell you that I was myself
+also ill a short time ago, and I then learned a lesson which I shall
+never forget. Who is most grateful? The convalescent. He learns to love
+God and His beautiful world anew; he is grateful for everything, and
+delighted with everything. What a flavor has his first cup of coffee!
+How he enjoys his first walk outside the house, outside the gate! The
+houses, the trees, all give us greeting: all is again in us full of
+health and joy!” So said Gödike, and Gellert rejoined:
+
+“You are a good creature, and have just spoken good words. Certainly,
+the convalescent is the most grateful. We are, however, for the most
+part, sick in spirit, and have not strength to recover: and a sickly,
+stricken spirit is the heaviest pain.”
+
+Long time the two sat quietly together: it struck eight. Gellert
+started up, and cried irritably: “There, now, you have allowed me to
+forget that I must be on my way to the University.”
+
+“The vacation has begun: Mr. Professor has no lecture to-day.”
+
+“No lecture to-day? Ah! and I believe today is just the time when I
+could have told my young friends something that would have benefited
+them for their whole lives.”
+
+There was a shuffling of many feet outside the door: the door opened,
+and several boys from St Thomas’ School-choir advanced and sang to
+Gellert some of his own hymns; and as they chanted the verse—
+
+“And haply there—oh! grant it, Heaven!
+    Some blessed saint will greet me too;
+‘All hail! all hail! to you was given
+    To save my life and soul, to you!’
+O God! my God! what joy to be
+The winner of a soul to thee!”
+
+
+Gellert wept aloud, folded his hands, and raised his eyes to heaven.
+
+A happier Christmas than that of 1768 had Gellert never seen; and it
+was his last. Scarcely a year after, on the 13th of December, 1769,
+Gellert died a pious, tranquil death, such as he had ever coveted.
+
+As the long train which followed his bier moved to the churchyard of
+St. John’s, Leipzig, a peasant with his wife and children in holiday
+clothes entered among the last. It was Christopher with his family. The
+whole way he had been silent: and whilst his wife wept passionately at
+the pastor’s touching address, it was only by the working of his
+features that Christopher showed how deeply moved he was.
+
+But on the way home he said: “I am glad I did him a kindness in his
+lifetime; it would now be too late.”
+
+The summer after, when he built a new house, he had this verse placed
+upon it as an inscription:
+
+“Accept God’s gifts with resignation,
+    Content to lack what thou hast not:
+In every lot there’s consolation;
+    There’s trouble, too, in every lot.”
+
+
+
+
+A GHETTO VIOLET
+
+BY LEOPOLD KOMPERT
+
+
+From “Christian and Leah.” Translated by A.S. Arnold.
+
+
+Through the open window came the clear trill of a canary singing
+blithely in its cage. Within the tidy, homely little room a pale-faced
+girl and a youth of slender frame listened intently while the bird sang
+its song. The girl was the first to break the silence.
+
+“Ephraim, my brother!” she said.
+
+“What is it, dear Viola?”
+
+“I wonder does the birdie know that it is the Sabbath to-day?”
+
+“What a child you are!” answered Ephraim.
+
+“Yes, that’s always the way; when you clever men can’t explain a thing,
+you simply dismiss the question by calling it childish,” Viola
+exclaimed, as though quite angry. “And, pray, why shouldn’t the bird
+know? The whole week it scarcely sang a note: to-day it warbles and
+warbles so that it makes my head ache. And what’s the reason? Every
+Sabbath it’s just the same, I notice it regularly. Shall I tell you
+what my idea is?
+
+“The whole week long the little bird looks into our room and sees
+nothing but the humdrum of work-a-day life. To-day it sees the bright
+rays of the Sabbath lamp and the white Sabbath cloth upon the table.
+Don’t you think I’m right, Ephraim?”
+
+“Wait, dear Viola,” said Ephraim, and he went to the cage.
+
+The bird’s song suddenly ceased.
+
+“Now you’ve spoilt its Sabbath!” cried the girl, and she was so excited
+that the book which had been lying upon her lap fell to the ground.
+
+Ephraim turned towards her; he looked at her solemnly, and said
+quietly:
+
+“Pick up your prayer-book first, and then I’ll answer. A holy book
+should not be on the ground like that. Had our mother dropped her
+prayer-book, she would have kissed it … Kiss it, Viola, my child!”
+
+Viola did so.
+
+“And now I’ll tell you, dear Viola, what I think is the reason why the
+bird sings so blithely to-day … Of course, I don’t say I’m right.”
+
+Viola’s brown eyes were fixed inquiringly upon her brother’s face.
+
+“How seriously you talk to-day,” she said, making a feeble attempt at a
+smile. “I was only joking. Mustn’t I ask if the bird knows anything
+about the Sabbath?”
+
+“There are subjects it is sinful to joke about, and this may be one of
+them, Viola.”
+
+“You really quite frighten me, Ephraim.”
+
+“You little goose, I don’t want to frighten you,” said Ephraim, while a
+faint flush suffused his features. “I’ll tell you my opinion about the
+singing of the bird. I think, dear Viola, that our little canary knows
+… that before long it will change its quarters.”
+
+“You’re surely not going to sell it or give it away?” cried the girl,
+in great alarm; and springing to her feet, she quickly drew her brother
+away from the cage.
+
+“No, I’m not going to sell it nor give it away,” said Ephraim, whose
+quiet bearing contrasted strongly with his sister’s excitement. “Is it
+likely that I should do anything that would give you pain? And yet, I
+have but to say one word … and I’ll wager that you will be the first to
+open the cage and say to the bird, ‘Fly, fly away, birdie, fly away
+home!’”
+
+“Never, never!” cried the girl.
+
+“Viola,” said Ephraim beseechingly, “I have taken a vow. Surely you
+would not have me break it?”
+
+“A vow?” asked his sister.
+
+“Viola,” Ephraim continued, as he bent his head down to the girl’s
+face, “I have vowed to myself that whenever he … our father … should
+return, I would give our little bird its freedom. It shall be free,
+free as he will be.”
+
+“Ephraim!”
+
+“He is coming—he is already on his way home.”
+
+Viola flung her arms round her brother’s neck. For a long time brother
+and sister remained locked in a close embrace.
+
+Meanwhile the bird resumed its jubilant song.
+
+“Do you hear how it sings again?” said Ephraim; and he gently stroked
+his sister’s hair.
+
+“It knows that it will soon be free.”
+
+“A father out of jail!” sobbed Viola, as she released herself from her
+brother’s arms.
+
+“He has had his punishment, dear Viola!” said Ephraim softly.
+
+Viola turned away. There was a painful silence, and then she looked up
+at her brother again. Her face was aglow, her eyes sparkled with a
+strange fire; she was trembling with agitation. Never before had
+Ephraim seen her thus.
+
+“Ephraim, my brother,” she commenced, in that measured monotone so
+peculiar to intense emotion, “with the bird you can do as you please.
+You can set it free, or, if you like, you can wring its neck. But as
+for him, I’ll never look in his face again, from me he shall not have a
+word of welcome. He broke our mother’s heart … our good, good mother;
+he has dishonored himself and us. And I can never forget it.”
+
+“Is it right for a child to talk like that of her own father?” said
+Ephraim in a tremulous voice.
+
+“When a child has good cause to be ashamed of her own father!” cried
+Viola.
+
+“Oh, my Viola, you must have forgotten dear mother’s dying words. Don’t
+you remember, as she opened her eyes for the last time, how she
+gathered up her failing strength, and raising herself in her bed,
+‘Children,’ she said, ‘my memory will protect you both, yea, and your
+father too.’ Viola, have you forgotten?”
+
+Had you entered that little room an hour later, a touching sight would
+have met your eyes. Viola was seated on her brother’s knee, her arms
+round his neck, whilst Ephraim with the gentle love of a brother for a
+younger sister, was stroking her hair, and whispering in her ear sweet
+words of solace.
+
+The bird-cage was empty. … That evening Ephraim sat up till midnight.
+Outside in the Ghetto reigned the stillness of night.
+
+All at once Ephraim rose from his chair, walked to the old bureau which
+stood near the door, opened it, and took from it a bulky volume, which
+he laid upon the table in front of him. But he did not seem at all bent
+upon reading. He began fingering the pages, until he came upon a bundle
+of bank-notes, and these he proceeded to count, with a whispering
+movement of his lips. He had but three or four more notes still to
+count, when his sharp ear detected the sound of stealthy footsteps, in
+the little courtyard in front of the house. Closing the book, and
+hastily putting it back again in the old bureau, Ephraim sprang to the
+window and opened it.
+
+“Is that you, father?” he cried.
+
+There was no answer.
+
+Ephraim repeated his question.
+
+He strained his eyes, peering into the dense darkness, but no living
+thing could he see. Then quite close to him a voice cried: “Make no
+noise … and first put out the light.”
+
+“Heavens! Father, it is you then…!” Ephraim exclaimed.
+
+“Hush!” came in a whisper from without, “first put out the light.”
+
+Ephraim closed the window, and extinguished the light. Then, with
+almost inaudible step, he walked out of the room into the dark passage;
+noiselessly he proceeded to unbolt the street-door. Almost at the same
+moment a heavy hand clasped his own.
+
+“Father, father!” Ephraim cried, trying to raise his parent’s hand to
+his lips.
+
+“Make no noise,” the man repeated, in a somewhat commanding tone.
+
+With his father’s hand in his, cautiously feeling his way, Ephraim led
+him into the room. In the room adjoining lay Viola, sleeping
+peacefully. …
+
+Time was when “Wild” Ascher’s welcome home had been far otherwise.
+Eighteen years before, upon that very threshold which he now crossed
+with halting, stealthy steps, as of a thief in the night, stood a fair
+and loving wife, holding a sturdy lad aloft in her arms, so that the
+father might at once see, as he turned the street corner, that wife and
+child were well and happy. Not another Ghetto in all Bohemia could show
+a handsomer and happier couple than Ascher and his wife. “Wild” Ascher
+was one of those intrepid, venturesome spirits, to whom no obstacle is
+so great that it cannot be surmounted. And the success which crowned
+his long, persistent wooing was often cited as striking testimony to
+his indomitable will. Gudule was famous throughout the Ghetto as “the
+girl with the wonderful eyes,” eyes—so the saying ran—into which no man
+could look and think of evil. During the earlier years of their married
+life those unfathomable brown eyes exercised on Ascher the full power
+of their fascination. A time came, however, when he alleged that those
+very eyes had been the cause of all his ruin.
+
+Gudule’s birthplace was far removed from the Ghetto, where Ascher had
+first seen the light. Her father was a wealthy farmer in a secluded
+village in Lower Bohemia. But distant though it was from the nearest
+town of any importance, the solitary grange became the centre of
+attraction to all the young swains far and near. But there was none who
+found favor in Gudule’s eyes save “Wild Ascher,” in spite of many a
+friendly warning to beware of him. One day, just before the betrothal
+of the young people, an anonymous letter was delivered at the grange.
+The writer, who called himself an old friend, entreated the farmer to
+prevent his dear child from becoming the wife of one who was suspected
+of being a gambler. The farmer was of an easy-going, indulgent nature,
+shunning care and anxiety as a very plague. Accordingly, no sooner had
+he read the anonymous missive than he handed it to his daughter, as
+though its contents were no concern of his.
+
+When Gudule had read the letter to the end, she merely remarked:
+“Father, this concerns me, and nobody else.”
+
+And so the matter dropped.
+
+Not until the wedding-day, half an hour before the ceremony, when the
+marriage canopy had already been erected in the courtyard, did the
+farmer sum up courage to revert to the warning of the unknown
+letter-writer. Taking his future son-in-law aside, he said:
+
+“Ascher, is it true that you gamble?”
+
+“Father,” Ascher answered with equal firmness, “Gudule’s eyes will save
+me!” Ascher had uttered no untruth when he gave his father-in-law this
+assurance. He spoke in all earnestness, for like every one else he knew
+the magnetic power of Gudule’s eyes.
+
+Nowhere, probably, does the grim, consuming pestilence of gaming claim
+more victims than in the Ghetto. The ravages of drink and debauchery
+are slight indeed; but the tortuous streets can show too many a humble
+home haunted by the spectres of ruin and misery which stalked across
+the threshold when the FIRST CARD GAME was played.
+
+It was with almost feverish anxiety that the eyes of the Ghetto were
+fixed upon the development of a character like Ascher’s; they followed
+his every step with the closest attention. Long experience had taught
+the Ghetto that no gambler could be trusted.
+
+As though conscious that all eyes were upon him, Ascher showed himself
+most punctilious in the discharge of even the minutest of communal
+duties which devolved upon him as a denizen of the Ghetto, and his
+habits of life were almost ostentatiously regular and decorous. His
+business had prospered, and Gudule had borne him a son.
+
+“Well, Gudule, my child,” the farmer asked his daughter on the day when
+his grandson was received into the covenant of Abraham,—“well, Gudule,
+was the letter right?”
+
+“What letter?” asked Gudule.
+
+“That in which your husband was called a gambler.”
+
+“And can you still give a thought to such a letter?” was Gudule’s
+significant reply.
+
+Three years later, Gudule’s father came to visit her. This time she
+showed him his second grandchild, her little Viola. He kissed the
+children, and round little Viola’s neck clasped three rows of pearls,
+“that the child may know it had a grandfather once.”
+
+“And where are your pearls, Gudule?” he asked, “those left you by your
+mother,—may she rest in peace! She always set such store by them.”
+
+“Those, father?” Gudule replied, turning pale; “oh, my husband has
+taken them to a goldsmith in Prague. They require a new clasp.”
+
+“I see,” remarked her father. Notwithstanding his limited powers of
+observation, it did not escape the old man’s eyes that Gudule looked
+alarmingly wan and emaciated. He saw it, and it grieved his very soul.
+He said nothing however: only, when leaving, and after he had kissed
+the Mezuza [Footnote: Small cylinder inclosing a roll of parchment
+inscribed with the Hebrew word Shadai (Almighty) and with other texts,
+which is affixed to the lintel of every Jewish house.], he said to
+Gudule (who, with little Viola in her arms, went with him to the door),
+in a voice quivering with suppressed emotion: “Gudule, my child, the
+pearl necklet which I have given your little Viola has a clasp strong
+enough to last a hundred years … you need never, therefore, give it to
+your husband to have a new clasp made for it.” And without bestowing
+another glance upon his child the easy-going man left the house. It was
+his last visit. Within the year Gudule received a letter from her
+eldest brother telling her that their father was dead, and that she
+would have to keep the week of mourning for him. Ever since his last
+visit to her—her brother wrote—the old man had been somewhat ailing,
+but knowing his vigorous constitution, they had paid little heed to his
+complaints. It was only during the last few weeks that a marked loss of
+strength had been noticed. This was followed by fever and delirium.
+Whenever he was asked whether he would not like to see Gudule, his only
+answer was: “She must not give away the clasp of little Viola’s
+necklet.” And but an hour before his death, he raised his voice, and
+loudly called for “the letter.” Nobody knew what letter. “Gudule knows
+where it is,” he said, with a gentle shake of his head. Those were the
+last words he spoke.
+
+Had the old man’s eyes deceived him on the occasion of his last visit
+to his son-in-law’s house? No! For, setting aside the incident of the
+missing pearls, the whole Ghetto could long since have told him that
+the warning of the anonymous letter was not unfounded—for Gudule was
+the wife of a gambler.
+
+With the resistless impetuosity of a torrent released from its prison
+of ice and snow, the old invincible disease had again overwhelmed its
+victim. Gudule noticed the first signs of it when one day her husband
+returned home from one of his business journeys earlier than he had
+arranged. Gudule had not expected him.
+
+“Why did you not come to meet me with the children?” he cried
+peevishly; “do you begrudge me even that pleasure?”
+
+“_I_ begrudge you a pleasure?” Gudule ventured to remark, as she raised
+her swimming eyes to his face.
+
+“Why do you look at me so tearfully?” he almost shouted.
+
+Ascher loved his wife, and when he saw the effect which his rough words
+had produced, he tenderly embraced her. “Am I not right, Gudule?” he
+said, “after a man has been working and slaving the livelong week,
+don’t you think he looks forward with longing eyes for his dear
+children to welcome him at his door?”
+
+At that moment Gudule felt the long latent suspicion revive in her that
+her husband was not speaking the truth. As if written in characters of
+fire, the words of that letter now came back to her memory; she knew
+now what was the fate that awaited her and her children.
+
+Thenceforward, all the characteristic tokens of a gambler’s life, all
+the vicissitudes which attend his unholy calling, followed close upon
+each other in grim succession. Most marked was the disturbance which
+his mental equilibrium was undergoing. Fits of gloomy despondency were
+succeeded, with alarming rapidity, by periods of tumultuous exaltation.
+One moment it would seem as though Gudule and the children were to him
+the living embodiment of all that was precious and lovable, whilst at
+other times he would regard them with sullen indifference. It soon
+became evident to Gudule that her husband’s affairs were in a very bad
+way, for her house-keeping allowance no longer came to her with its
+wonted regularity. But what grieved and alarmed her most, was the fact
+that Ascher was openly neglecting every one of his religious duties. To
+return home late on Friday night, long after sunset had ushered in the
+Sabbath, was now a common practice. Once even it happened, that with
+his clothes covered with dust, he came home from one of his business
+tours on a Sabbath morning, when the people in holiday attire were
+wending their way to the synagogue.
+
+Nevertheless, not a sound of complaint escaped Gudule’s lips. Hers was
+one of those proud, sensitive natures, such as are to be met with among
+all classes and amid all circumstances of life, in Ghetto and in
+secluded village, no less than among the most favored ones of the
+earth. Had she not cast to the winds the well-intentioned counsel given
+her in that unsigned letter? Why then should she complain and lament,
+now that the seed had borne fruit? She shrank from alluding before her
+husband to the passion which day by day, nay, hour by hour, tightened
+its hold upon him. She would have died sooner than permit the word
+“gambler” to pass her lips. Besides, did not her eyes tell Ascher what
+she suffered? Those very eyes were, according to Ascher, the cause of
+his rapid journey along the road to ruin.
+
+“Why do you look at me so, Gudule?” he would testily ask her, at the
+slightest provocation.
+
+Often when, as he explained, he had had “a specially good week,” he
+would bring home the costliest gifts for his children. Gudule, however,
+made no use whatever of these trinkets, neither for herself nor for the
+children. She put the things away in drawers and cupboards, and never
+looked at them, more especially as she observed that, under some
+pretext or another, Ascher generally took those glittering things away
+again, “in order to exchange them for others,” he said: as often as not
+never replacing them at all.
+
+“Gudule!” he said one day, when he happened to be in a particularly
+good humor, “why do you let the key remain in the door of that bureau
+where you keep so many valuables?”
+
+And again Gudule regarded him with those unfathomable eyes.
+
+“There, you’re … looking at me again!” he exclaimed with sudden
+vehemence.
+
+“They’re safe enough in the cupboard,” Gudule said, smiling, “why
+should I lock it?”
+
+“Gudule, do you mean to say …” he cried, raising his hand as for a
+blow. Then he fell back in his chair, and his frame was shaken with
+sobs.
+
+“Gudule, my heart’s love,” he cried, “I am not worthy that your eyes
+should rest on me. Everywhere, wherever I go, they look at me, those
+eyes … and that is my ruin. If business is bad, your eyes ask me, ‘Why
+did you mix yourself up with these things, without a thought of wife or
+children?’… Then I feel as if some evil spirit possessed me and
+tortured my soul. Oh, why can’t you look at me again as you did when
+you were my bride?—then you looked so happy, so lovely! At other times
+I think: ‘I shall yet grasp fortune with both hands … and then I can
+face my Gudule’s eyes again.’ But now, now … oh, don’t look at me,
+Gudule!”
+
+There spoke the self-reproaching voice, which sometimes burst forth
+unbidden from a suffering soul.
+
+As for Gudule, she already knew how to appreciate this cry of her
+husband’s conscience at its true value. It was not that she felt one
+moment’s doubt as to its sincerity, but she knew that so far as it
+affected the future, it was a mere cry and nothing more.
+
+The years rolled on. The children were growing up. Ephraim had entered
+his fifteenth year. Viola was a little pale girl of twelve. In opinion
+of the Ghetto they were the most extraordinary children in the world.
+In the midst of the harassing life to which her marriage with the
+gambler had brought her, Gudule so reared them that they grew to be
+living reflections of her own inmost being. People wondered when they
+beheld the strange development of “Wild” Ascher’s children.
+
+Their natures were as proud and reserved as that of their mother. They
+did not associate with the youth of the Ghetto; it seemed as though
+they were not of their kind, as though an insurmountable barrier
+divided them. And many a bitter sneer was hurled at Gudule’s head.
+
+“Does she imagine,” she often heard people whisper, “that because her
+father was a farmer her children are princes? Let her remember that her
+husband is but a common gambler.”
+
+How different would have been their thoughts had they known that the
+children were Gudule’s sole comfort. What their father had never heard
+from her, she poured into their youthful souls. No tear their mother
+shed was unobserved by them; they knew when their father had lost and
+when he had won; they knew, too, all the varying moods of his unhinged
+mind; and in this terrible school of misery they acquired an
+instinctive intelligence, which in the eyes of strangers seemed mere
+precocity.
+
+The two children, however, had early given evidence of a marked
+difference in disposition. Ephraim’s nature was one of an almost
+feminine gentleness, whilst Viola was strong-willed and proudly
+reserved.
+
+“Mother,” she said one day, “do you think he will continue to play much
+longer?”
+
+“Viola, how can you talk like that?” Ephraim cried, greatly disturbed.
+
+Thereupon Viola impetuously flung her arms round her mother’s neck, and
+for some moments she clung to her with all the strength of her
+passionate nature. It was as though in that wild embrace she would fain
+pour forth the long pent-up sorrows of her blighted childhood.
+
+“Mother!” she cried, “you are so good to him. Never, never shall he
+have such kindness from me!”
+
+“Ephraim,” said Gudule, “speak to your sister. In her sinful anger,
+Viola would revenge herself upon her own father. Does it so beseem a
+Jewish child?”
+
+“Why does he treat you so cruelly, then?” Viola almost hissed the
+words.
+
+Soon after fell the final crushing blow. Ascher had been away from home
+for some weeks, when one day Gudule received a letter, dated a prison
+in the neighborhood of Vienna. In words of genuine sympathy the writer
+explained that Ascher had been unfortunate enough to forge the
+signature to a bill. She would not see him again for the next five
+years. God comfort her! The letter was signed: “A fellow-sufferer with
+your husband.”
+
+As it had been with her old father, after he had bidden her a last
+farewell, so it was now with Gudule. From that moment her days were
+numbered, and although not a murmur escaped her lips, hour by hour she
+wasted away.
+
+One Friday evening, shortly after the seven-branched Sabbath lamp had
+been lit, Gudule, seated in her arm-chair, out of which she had not
+moved all day, called the two children to her. A bright smile hovered
+around her lips, an unwonted fire burned in her still beautiful eyes,
+her bosom heaved … in the eyes of her children she seemed strangely
+changed. “Children,” said she, “come and stand by me. Ephraim, you
+stand here on my right, and you, dear Viola, on my left. I would like
+to tell you a little story, such as they tell little children to soothe
+them to sleep. Shall I?”
+
+“Mother!” they both cried, as they bent towards her.
+
+“You must not interrupt me, children,” she observed, still with that
+strange smile on her lips, “but leave me to tell my little story in my
+own way.
+
+“Listen, children,” she resumed, after a brief pause. “Every human
+being—be he ever so wicked—if he have done but a single good deed on
+earth, will, when he arrives above, in the seventh heaven, get his
+Sechûs, that is to say, the memory of the good he has done here below
+will be remembered and rewarded bountifully by the Almighty.” Gudule
+ceased speaking. Suddenly a change came over her features: her breath
+came and went in labored gasps; but her brown eyes still gleamed
+brightly.
+
+In tones well-nigh inaudible she continued: “When Jerusalem, the Holy
+City, was destroyed, the dead rose up out of their graves … the holy
+patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob … and also Moses, and Aaron his
+brother … and David the King … and prostrating themselves before God’s
+throne they sobbed: ‘Dost Thou not remember the deeds we have done?…
+Wouldst Thou now utterly destroy all these our children, even to the
+innocent babe at the breast?’ But the Almighty was inexorable.
+
+“Then Sarah, our mother, approached the Throne… When God beheld her, He
+covered His face, and wept. ‘Go,’ said He, ‘I cannot listen to thee.’ …
+But she exclaimed … ‘Dost Thou no longer remember the tears I shed
+before I gave birth to my Joseph and Benjamin … and dost Thou not
+remember the day when they buried me yonder, on the borders of the
+Promised Land … and now, must mine eyes behold the slaughter of my
+children, their disgrace, and their captivity?’… Then God cried: ‘For
+THY sake will I remember thy children and spare them.’ …”
+
+“Would you like to know,” Gudule suddenly cried, with uplifted voice,
+“what this Sechûs is like? It has the form of an angel, and it stands
+near the Throne of the Almighty. … But, since the days of Rachel, our
+mother, it is the Sechûs of a mother that finds most favor in God’s
+eyes. When a mother dies, her soul straightway soars heavenward, and
+there it takes its place amid the others.
+
+“‘Who art thou?’ asks God. ‘I am the Sechûs of a mother,’ is the
+answer, ‘of a mother who has left children behind her on earth.’ ‘Then
+do thou stand here and keep guard over them!’ says God. And when it is
+well with the children, it is the Sechûs of a mother which has caused
+them to prosper, and when evil days befall them … it is again the Angel
+who stands before God and pleads: ‘Dost Thou forget that these children
+no longer have a mother?’… and the evil is averted. …”
+
+Gudule’s voice had sunk to a mere whisper. Her eyes closed, her head
+fell back, her breathing became slower and more labored. “Are you still
+there, children?” she softly whispered.
+
+Anxiously they bent over her. Then once again she opened her eyes.
+
+“I see you still”—the words came with difficulty from her blanched
+lips—“you, Ephraim, and you, my little Viola … I am sure my Sechûs will
+plead for you … for you and your father.” They were Gudule’s last
+words. When her children, whose eyes had never as yet been confronted
+with Death, called her by her name, covering her icy hands with burning
+kisses, their mother was no more …
+
+Who can tell what influence causes the downtrodden blade to raise
+itself once more! Is it the vivifying breath of the west wind, or a
+mysterious power sent forth from the bosom of Mother Earth? It was a
+touching sight to see how those two children, crushed as they were
+beneath the weight of a twofold blow, raised their heads again, and in
+their very desolation found new-born strength. And it filled the Ghetto
+with wonder. For what were they but the offspring of a gambler? Or was
+it the spirit of Gudule, their mother, that lived in them?
+
+After Gudule’s death, her eldest brother, the then owner of the grange,
+came over to discuss the future of his sister’s children. He wished
+Ephraim and Viola to go with him to his home in Lower Bohemia, where he
+could find them occupation. The children, however, were opposed to the
+idea. They had taken no previous counsel together, yet, upon this
+point, both were in perfect accord,—they would prefer to be left in
+their old home.
+
+“When father comes back again,” said Ephraim, “he must know where to
+find us. But to you, Uncle Gabriel, he would never come.”
+
+The uncle then insisted that Viola at least should accompany him, for
+he had daughters at home whom she could assist in their duties in the
+house and on the farm. But the child clung to Ephraim, and with flaming
+eyes, and in a voice of proud disdain, which filled the simple farmer
+with something like terror, she cried:
+
+“Uncle, you have enough to do to provide for your own daughters; don’t
+let ME be an additional burden upon you; besides, sooner would I wander
+destitute through the world than be separated from my brother.”
+
+“And what do you propose to do then?” exclaimed the uncle, after he had
+somewhat recovered from his astonishment at Viola’s vehemence.
+
+“You see, Uncle Gabriel,” said Ephraim, a sudden flush overspreading
+his grief-stricken features, “you see I have thought about it, and I
+have come to the conclusion that this is the best plan. Viola shall
+keep house, and I … I’ll start a business.”
+
+“YOU start a business?” cried the uncle with a loud laugh. “Perhaps you
+can tell me what price I’ll get for my oats next market day? A
+business!… and what business, my lad?”
+
+“Uncle,” said Ephraim, “if I dispose of all that is left us, I shall
+have enough money to buy a small business. Others in our position have
+done the same… and then…”
+
+“Well, and then?” the uncle cried, eagerly anticipating his answer.
+
+“Then the Sechûs of our mother will come to our aid.” Ephraim said
+softly.
+
+The farmer’s eyes grew dim with moisture; his sister had been very dear
+to him.
+
+“As I live!” he cried, brushing his hand across his eyes, “you are true
+children of my sister Gudule. That’s all _I_ can say.”
+
+Then, as though moved by a sudden impulse, he quickly produced, from
+the depths of his overcoat, a heavy pocketbook. “There!”… he cried,
+well-nigh out of breath, “there are a hundred gulden for you, Ephraim.
+With that you can, at all events, make a start; and then you needn’t
+sell the few things you still have. There … put the money away… oats
+haven’t fetched any price at all to-day, ’tis true; but for the sake of
+Gudule’s children, I don’t mind what I do… Come, put it away, Ephraim…
+and may God bless you, and make you prosper.”
+
+“Uncle!” cried Ephraim, as he raised the farmer’s hand to his lips, “is
+all this to be mine? All this?”
+
+“Yes, my boy, yes; it IS a deal of money isn’t it?” … said Gudule’s
+brother, accompanying his words with a sounding slap on his massive
+thigh. “I should rather think it is. With that you can do something, at
+all events … and shall I tell you something? In Bohemia the oat crop
+is, unfortunately, very bad this season. But in Moravia it’s splendid,
+and is two groats cheaper … So there’s your chance, Ephraim, my child;
+you’ve got the money, buy!” All at once a dark cloud overspread his
+smiling face.
+
+“It’s a lot of money, Ephraim, that I am giving you … many a merchant
+can’t lay his hands on it,” he said, hesitatingly; “but if … you were
+to … gam—”
+
+The word remained unfinished, for upon his arm he suddenly felt a
+sensation as of a sharp, pricking needle.
+
+“Uncle Gabriel!” cried Viola—for it was she who had gripped his arm—and
+the child’s cheeks were flaming, whilst her lips curled with scorn, and
+her white teeth gleamed like those of a beast of prey. “Uncle Gabriel!”
+she almost shrieked, “if you don’t trust Ephraim, then take your money
+back again … it’s only because you are our mother’s brother that we
+accept it from you at all … Ephraim shall repay you to the last
+farthing … Ephraim doesn’t gamble … you sha’n’t lose a single penny of
+it.”
+
+With a shake of his head the farmer regarded the strange child. He felt
+something like annoyance rise within him; an angry word rose to the
+lips of the usually good tempered man. But it remained unsaid; he was
+unable to remove his eyes from the child’s face.
+
+“As I live,” he muttered, “she has Gudule’s very eyes.”
+
+And with another thumping slap on his leg, he merrily exclaimed:
+
+“All right, we’ll leave it so then…. If Ephraim doesn’t repay me, I’ll
+take YOU, you wild thing… for you’ve stood surety for your brother, and
+then I’ll take you away, and keep you with me at home. Do you agree…
+you little spit-fire, eh?”
+
+“Yes, uncle!” cried Viola.
+
+“Then give me a kiss, Viola.”
+
+The child hesitated for a moment, then she laid her cheek upon her
+uncle’s face.
+
+“Ah, now I’ve got you, you little spit-fire,” he cried, kissing her
+again and again. “Aren’t you ashamed now to have snapped your uncle up
+like that?”
+
+Then after giving Ephraim some further information about the present
+price of oats, and the future prospects of the crops, with a sideshot
+at the chances of wool, skins, and other merchandise, he took his
+leave.
+
+There was great surprise in the Ghetto when the barely fifteen-year-old
+lad made his first start in business. Many made merry over “the great
+merchant,” but before the year was ended, the sharp-seeing eyes of the
+Ghetto saw that Ephraim had “a lucky hand.” Whatever he undertook he
+followed up with a calmness and tact which often baffled the restless
+activity of many a big dealer, with all his cuteness and trickery.
+Whenever Ephraim, with his pale, sad face, made his appearance at a
+farmstead, to negotiate for the purchase of wool, or some such matter,
+it seemed as though some invisible messenger had gone before him to
+soften the hearts of the farmers. “No one ever gets things as cheap as
+you do,” he was assured by many a farmer’s wife, who had been won by
+the unconscious eloquence of his dark eyes. No longer did people laugh
+at “the little merchant,” for nothing so quickly kills ridicule as
+success.
+
+When, two years later, his Uncle Gabriel came again to see how the
+children were getting on, Ephraim was enabled to repay, in hard cash,
+the money he had lent him.
+
+“Oho!” cried Gudule’s brother, with big staring eyes, as he clutched
+his legs with both hands, “how have you managed in so short a time to
+save so much? D’ye know that that’s a great deal of money?”
+
+“I’ve had good luck, uncle,” said Ephraim, modestly.
+
+“You’ve been…playing, perhaps?”
+
+The words fell bluntly from the rough country-man, but hardly had they
+been uttered, when Viola sprang from her chair, as though an adder had
+stung her. “Uncle,” she cried, and a small fist hovered before
+Gabriel’s eyes in such a threatening manner that he involuntarily
+closed them. But the child, whose features reminded him so strongly of
+his dead sister, could not make him angry.
+
+“Ephraim,” he exclaimed, in a jocund tone, warding off Viola with his
+hands, “you take my advice. Take this little spit-fire with you into
+the village one day…they may want a young she-wolf there.” Then he
+pocketed the money.
+
+“Well, Ephraim,” said he, “may God bless you, and grant you further
+luck. But you won’t blame me if I take the money,—I can do with it, and
+in oats, as you know, there’s some chance of good business just now.
+But I am glad to see that you’re so prompt at paying. Never give too
+much credit! That’s always my motto; trust means ruin, and eats up a
+man’s business, as rats devour the contents of a corn-barn.”
+
+There was but one thing that constantly threw its dark shadow across
+these two budding lives,—it was the dark figure in a distant prison.
+This it was that saddened the souls of the two children with a gloom
+which no sunshine could dispel. When on Fridays Ephraim returned,
+fatigued and weary from his work, to the home over which Viola presided
+with such pathetic housewifely care, no smile of welcome was on her
+face, no greeting on his. Ephraim, ’tis true, told his sister where he
+had been, and what he had done, but in the simplest words there
+vibrated that tone of unutterable sadness which has its constant
+dwelling-place in such sorely-tried hearts.
+
+Meanwhile, a great change had come over Viola. Nature continues her
+processes of growth and development ’mid the tempests of human grief,
+and often the fiercer the storm the more beautiful the after effects.
+Viola was no longer the pale child, “the little spit-fire,” by whom her
+Uncle Gabriel’s arm had been seized in such a violent grip. A womanly
+gentleness had come over her whole being, and already voices were heard
+in the Ghetto praising her grace and beauty, which surpassed even the
+loveliness of her dead mother in her happiest days. Many an admiring
+eye dwelt upon the beautiful girl, many a longing glance was cast in
+the direction of the little house, where she dwelt with her brother.
+But the daughter of a “gambler,” the child of a man who was undergoing
+imprisonment for the indulgence of his shameful vice! That was a
+picture from which many an admirer shrank with horror!
+
+One day Ephraim brought home a young canary for his sister. When he
+handed her the bird in its little gilt cage, her joy knew no bounds,
+and showering kisses by turns upon her brother, and on the wire-work of
+the cage, her eyes sparkling with animation:
+
+“You shall see, Ephraim, how I’ll teach the little bird to speak,” she
+cried.
+
+The softening influence which had, during the last few months, come
+over his sister’s nature was truly a matter of wonder to Ephraim.
+Humbly and submissively she accepted the slightest suggestion on his
+part, as though it were a command. He was to her a father and mother,
+and never were parents more implicitly obeyed by a child than this
+brother by a sister but three years his junior.
+
+There was one subject, however, upon which Ephraim found his sister
+implacable and firm—their absent father, the mere mention of whose name
+made her tremble. Then there returned that haughty curl of the lips,
+and all the other symptoms of a proud, inflexible spirit. It was
+evident that Viola hated the man to whom she owed her existence.
+
+Thus had it come about that Ephraim was almost afraid to pronounce his
+father’s name. Neither did he care to allude to their mother before
+Viola, for the memory of her death was too closely bound up with that
+dark form behind the distant prison walls.
+
+Let us now return to the night on which Ephraim opened the door to his
+father. How had it come about? A thousand times Ephraim had thought
+about his father’s return—and now he durst not even kindle a light, to
+look upon the long-estranged face. As silent as when he had come,
+Ascher remained during the rest of the night; he had seated himself at
+the window, and his arm was resting upon the very spot where formerly
+the cage had stood. The bird had obtained its freedom, and was, no
+doubt, by this time asleep, nestling amid the breeze-swept foliage of
+some wooded glen. HE too had regained his liberty, but no sleep closed
+his eyes, and yet he was in safe shelter, in the house of his children.
+
+At length the day began to break. The sun was still hiding behind the
+mountain-tops, but its earliest rays were already reflected upon the
+window-panes. In the Ghetto footsteps became audible; here and there
+the grating noise of an opening street-door was heard, while from round
+the corner resounded, ever and anon, the hammer of the watchman,
+calling the people to morning service; for it was a Fast-day, which
+commenced at sunrise.
+
+At that moment Ascher raised himself from his chair, and quickly turned
+away from the window. Ephraim was already by his side. “Father, dear
+father!” he cried from the inmost depths of his heart, as he tried to
+grasp the hand of the convict.
+
+“Don’t make such a noise,” said the latter, casting a furtive glance in
+the direction of the window, and speaking in the same mysterious
+whisper in which he had asked for admittance into the house.
+
+What a strange awakening it was to his son, when, in the gray twilight
+of the breaking day, he looked at Ascher more closely. In his
+imagination Ephraim had pictured a wan, grief-worn figure, and now he
+saw before him a strong, well-built man, who certainly did not present
+the appearance of a person who had just emerged from the dank
+atmosphere of a prison! On the contrary, he seemed stronger and more
+vigorous than he had appeared in his best days.
+
+“Has he had such a good time of it…?” Ephraim felt compelled to ask
+himself… “how different our poor mother looked!”
+
+With a violent effort he repressed the feelings which swelled his
+bosom. “Dear father,” he said, with tears in his eyes, “make yourself
+quite comfortable; you haven’t closed your eyes the whole night, you
+must be worn out. You are at home, remember…father!”
+
+“It’s all right,” said Ascher, with a deprecating gesture, “WE fellows
+know other ways of spending the night.”
+
+“WE FELLOWS!” The words cut Ephraim to the heart.
+
+“But you may be taken ill, father,” he timidly observed.
+
+“I taken ill! What do you take me for?” Ascher laughed, boisterously.
+“I haven’t the slightest intention of falling ill.”
+
+At that moment the watchman was heard hammering at the door of the next
+house. The reverberating blows seemed to have a strangely disquieting
+effect upon the strong man: a violent tremor seized him; he cast one of
+the frightened glances which Ephraim had noticed before in the
+direction of the window, then with one bound he was at the door, and
+swiftly turned the knob.
+
+“Father, what’s the matter?” Ephraim cried, much alarmed.
+
+“Does the watchman look into the room when he passes by?” asked Ascher,
+while his eyes almost burst from their sockets, with the intentness of
+their gaze.
+
+“Never,” Ephraim assured him.
+
+“Let me see, wait…” whispered Ascher.
+
+The three well-known knocks now resounded upon their own door, then the
+shadow of a passing figure was thrown upon the opposite wall. With a
+sigh of relief, the words escaped Ascher’s bosom:
+
+“He did not look inside…” he muttered to himself.
+
+Then he removed his hand from the door-knob, came back into the centre
+of the room, and approaching the table, rested his hand upon it.
+
+“Ephraim…” he said after a while, in that suppressed tone which seemed
+to be peculiar to him, “aren’t you going to synagogue?”
+
+“No, father,” replied Ephraim, “I’m not going to-day.”
+
+“But they’ll want to know,” Ascher observed, and at the words an ugly
+sneer curled the corners of his lip; “they’ll want to know who your
+guest is. Why don’t you go and tell them?”
+
+“Father!” cried Ephraim.
+
+“Then be good enough to draw down the blinds. …What business is it of
+theirs who your guest is? Let them attend to their own affairs… But
+they wouldn’t be of ‘the chosen race’ if they didn’t want to know what
+was taking place in the furthermost corner of your brain. You can’t be
+too careful with them…you’re never secure against their far-scenting
+noses and their sharp, searching eyes.”
+
+It was now broad daylight. Ephraim drew down the blinds.
+
+“The blinds are too white…” Ascher muttered, and moving a chair
+forward, he sat down upon it with his back to the window.
+
+Ephraim proceeded to wind the phylacteries round his arm, and commenced
+to say his prayers softly.
+
+His devotions over, he hurriedly took the phylacteries from his head
+and hand.
+
+Ascher was still sitting immovable, his back to the window, his eyes
+fixed upon the door.
+
+“Why don’t you ask me where I’ve left my luggage?” he suddenly cried.
+
+“I’ll fetch it myself if you’ll tell me where it is,” Ephraim remarked,
+in all simplicity.
+
+“Upon my word, you make me laugh,” cried Ascher, and a laugh like that
+of delirium burst from his lips. “All I can say, Ephraim, is, the most
+powerful giant upon earth would break his back beneath the weight of my
+luggage!”
+
+Then only did Ephraim grasp his father’s meaning.
+
+“Don’t worry yourself, father…” he said lovingly.
+
+“Would you like to support me, perhaps!” Ascher shouted, with cutting
+disdain.
+
+Ephraim’s heart almost ceased to beat. Then movements were heard in the
+adjoining room.
+
+“Have you any one with you?” cried Ascher springing up. His sharp ears
+had instantly caught the sounds, and again the strong man was seized
+with violent trembling.
+
+“Father, it’s only dear Viola,” said Ephraim.
+
+A nameless terror seemed to have over-powered Ascher. With one hand
+convulsively clenched upon the arm of the chair, and the other pressed
+to his temple, he sat breathing heavily. Ephraim observed with alarm
+what a terrible change had come over his father’s features during the
+last few seconds: his face had become ashen white, his eyes had lost
+their lustre, he seemed to have aged ten years.
+
+The door opened, and Viola entered.
+
+“Viola!” cried Ephraim, “here is our—”
+
+“Welcome!” said the girl, in a low voice, as she approached a few steps
+nearer. She extended her hand towards him, but her eyes were cast down.
+She stood still for a moment, then, with a hurried movement, turned
+away.
+
+“Gudule!” cried Ascher, horror-stricken, as he fell back almost
+senseless in his chair.
+
+Was it the glamour of her maiden beauty that had so overpowered this
+unhappy father? Or was it the extraordinary resemblance she bore to the
+woman who had so loved him, and whose heart he had broken? The
+utterance of her name, the terror that accompanied the exclamation,
+denoted the effect which the girl’s sudden appearance had produced upon
+that sadly unhinged mind.
+
+“Viola!” Ephraim cried, in a sorrow-stricken voice, “why don’t you come
+here?”
+
+“I CAN’T, Ephraim, I CAN’T…” she moaned, as, with halting steps, she
+walked towards the door.
+
+“Come, speak to him, do,” Ephraim entreated, taking her hand in his.
+
+“Let me go!” she cried, trying to release herself … “I am thinking of
+mother!”
+
+Suddenly Ascher rose.
+
+“Where’s my stick?” he cried. “I want the stick which I brought with
+me…Where is it? I must go.”
+
+“Father, you won’t…” cried Ephraim.
+
+Then Viola turned round.
+
+“Father,” she said, with twitching lips… “you’ll want something to eat
+before you go.”
+
+“Yes, yes, let me have something to eat,” he shouted, as he brought his
+fist down upon the table. “Bring me wine…and let it be good …I am
+thirsty enough to drink the river dry. …Wine, and beer, and anything
+else you can find, bring all here, and then, when I’ve had my fill,
+I’ll go.”
+
+“Go, Viola,” Ephraim whispered in his sister’s ear, “and bring him all
+he asks for.”
+
+When Viola had left the room, Ascher appeared to grow calmer. He sat
+down again leaning his arms upon the table.
+
+“Yes,” he muttered to himself: “I’ll taste food with my children,
+before I take up my stick and go…They say it’s lucky to have the first
+drink of the day served by one’s own child …and luck I will have again,
+at any price… What good children! While I’ve been anything but a good
+father to them, they run hither and thither and take the trouble to get
+me food and drink, and I, I’ve brought them home nothing but a wooden
+stick. But I’ll repay them, so help me God, I’ll make them rich yet,
+but I’ve got nothing but a wooden stick, and I want money, no play
+without money, and no luck either…”
+
+Gradually a certain thoughtfulness overspread Ascher’s agitated
+features, his lips were tightly compressed, deep furrows lined his
+forehead, while his eyes were fixed in a stony glare, as if upon some
+distant object. In the meantime Ephraim had remained standing almost
+motionless, and it was evident that his presence in the room had quite
+escaped his father’s observation. With a chilling shudder running
+through his frame, his hair on end with horror, he listened to the
+strange soliloquy!…Then he saw his father’s eyes travelling slowly in
+the direction of the old bureau in the corner, and there they remained
+fixed. “Why does he leave the key in the door, I wonder,” he heard him
+mutter between his teeth, “just as Gudule used to do; I must tell him
+when he comes back, keys shouldn’t be left indoors, never, under any
+circumstances.” The entrance of Viola interrupted the old gambler’s
+audible train of thought.
+
+Ephraim gave a gasp of relief.
+
+“Ah, what have you brought me?” cried Ascher, and his eyes sparkled
+with animation, as Viola produced some bottles from under her apron,
+and placed them and some glasses upon the table.
+
+“Now then, fill up the glass,” he shouted, in a commanding voice, “and
+take care that you don’t spill any, or you’ll spoil my luck.”
+
+With trembling hand Viola did as she was bidden, without spilling a
+single drop. Then he took up the glass and drained it at one draught.
+His face flushed a bright crimson: he poured himself out another glass.
+
+“Aren’t you drinking, Ephraim?” he exclaimed, after he had finished
+that glass also.
+
+“I don’t drink to-day, father,” Ephraim faltered, “it’s a fast.”
+
+“A fast? What fast? I have been fasting too,” he continued, with a
+coarse laugh, “twice a week, on bread and water; an excellent thing for
+the stomach. Fancy, a fast-day in midsummer. On such a long day, when
+the sun is up at three already, and at eight o’clock at night is still
+hesitating whether he’ll go to bed or not …what have I got to do with
+your Fast-day?”
+
+His face grew redder every moment; he had drunk a third and a fourth
+glass, and there was nothing but a mere drain left in the bottle.
+Already his utterance was thick and incoherent, and his eyes were fast
+assuming that glassy brightness that is usually the forerunner of
+helpless intoxication. It was a sight Ephraim could not bear to see.
+Impelled by that natural, almost holy shame which prompted the son of
+Noah to cover the nakedness of his father, he motioned to his sister to
+leave. Then HE, too, softly walked out of the room.
+
+Outside, in the corridor, the brother and sister fell into each other’s
+arms. Both wept bitterly: for a long time neither of them could find
+words in which to express the grief which filled their souls. At length
+Viola, her head resting upon Ephraim’s shoulder, whispered: “Ephraim,
+what do you think of him?”
+
+“He is ill, I think…” said Ephraim, in a voice choked with sobs.
+
+“What, you call THAT illness, Ephraim?” Viola cried; “if that’s
+illness, then a wild beast is ill too.”
+
+“Viola, for Heaven’s sake, be quiet: he’s our own father after all!”
+
+“Ephraim!” said the girl, with a violent outburst of emotion, as she
+again threw herself into her brother’s arms… “just think if mother had
+lived to see this!”
+
+“Don’t, don’t, Viola, my sweet!” Ephraim exclaimed, sobbing
+convulsively.
+
+“Ephraim!” the girl cried, shaking her head in wild despair, “I don’t
+believe in the Sechûs! When we live to see all this, and our hearts do
+not break, we lose faith in everything…Ephraim, what is to become of
+us?”
+
+“Hush, dear Viola, hush, you don’t know what you are saying,” replied
+Ephraim, “I believe in it, because mother herself told us…you must
+believe in it too.”
+
+But Viola again shook her head. “I don’t believe in it any longer,” she
+moaned, “I can’t.”
+
+Noiselessly, Ephraim walked toward the door of the front room; he
+placed his ear against the keyhole, and listened. Within all was
+silent. A fresh terror seized him. Why was no sound to be heard?…He
+opened the door cautiously lest it should creak. There sat his father
+asleep in the arm-chair, his head bent on his bosom, his arms hanging
+limp by his side.
+
+“Hush, Viola,” he whispered, closing the door as cautiously as he had
+opened it, “he is asleep. …I think it will do him good. Be careful that
+you make no noise.”
+
+Viola had seated herself upon a block of wood outside the kitchen door,
+and was sobbing silently. In the meantime, Ephraim, unable to find a
+word of solace for his sister, went and stood at the street door, so
+that no unbidden guest should come to disturb his father’s slumbers. It
+was mid-day; from the church hard by streamed the peasants and their
+wives in their Sunday attire, and many bestowed a friendly smile upon
+the well-known youth. But he could only nod his head in return, his
+heart was sore oppressed, and a smile at such a moment seemed to him
+nothing short of sin. He went back into the house, and listened at the
+door of the room. Silence still reigned unbroken, and with noiseless
+steps he again walked away.
+
+“He is still sleeping,” he whispered to his sister. “Just think what
+would have happened if we had still had that bird…He wouldn’t have been
+able to sleep a wink.”
+
+“Ephraim, why do you remind me of it?” cried Viola with a fresh
+outburst of tears. “Where is the little bird now, I wonder?…”
+
+Ephraim sat down beside his sister, and took her hand in his. Thus they
+remained seated for some time, unable to find a word of comfort for
+each other.
+
+At length movements were heard. Ephraim sprang to his feet and once
+more approached the door to listen.
+
+“He is awake!” he softly said to Viola, and slowly opening the door, he
+entered the room.
+
+Ascher was walking up and down with heavy tread.
+
+“Do you feel refreshed after your sleep, father?” Ephraim asked
+timidly.
+
+Ascher stood still, and confronted his son. His face was still very
+flushed, but his eyes had lost their glassy stare; his glance was clear
+and steady.
+
+“Ephraim, my son,” he began, in a kindly, almost cheerful tone, “you’ve
+grown into a splendid business man, as good a business man as one can
+meet with between this and Vienna. I’m sure of it. But I must give you
+one bit of advice; it’s worth a hundred pounds to one in your position.
+Never leave a key in the lock of a bureau!”
+
+Ephraim looked at his father as though stupefied. Was the man mad or
+delirious to talk in such a strain? At that moment, from the extreme
+end of the Ghetto, there sounded the three knocks, summoning the people
+to evening prayer. As in the morning, so again now the sound seemed to
+stun the vigorous man. His face blanched and assumed an expression of
+terror; he trembled from head to foot. Then again he cast a frightened
+glance in the direction of the window.
+
+“Nothing but knocking, knocking!” he muttered. “They would like to
+knock the most hidden thoughts out of one’s brains, if they only could.
+What makes them do it, I should like to know?…To the clanging of a bell
+you can, at all events, shut your ears, you need only place your hands
+to them…but with that hammer they bang at every confounded door, and
+drive one crazy. Who gives them the right to do it, I should like to
+know?” He stood still listening.
+
+“Do you think he will be long before he reaches here?” he asked
+Ephraim, in a frightened voice.
+
+“Who, father?”
+
+“The watch.”
+
+“He has already knocked next door but one.”
+
+Another minute, and the three strokes sounded on the door of the house.
+Ascher heaved a sigh of relief; he rubbed his hand across his forehead;
+it was wet with perspiration.
+
+“Thank God!” he cried, as though addressing himself, “that’s over, and
+won’t come again till to-morrow.”
+
+“Ephraim, my son!” he cried, with a sudden outburst of cheerfulness,
+accompanying the words with a thundering bang upon the table, “Ephraim,
+my son, you shall soon see what sort of a father you have. Now, you’re
+continually worrying your brains, walking your feet off, trying to get
+a skin, or praying some fool of a peasant to be good enough to sell you
+a bit of wool. Ephraim, my son, all that shall soon be changed, take my
+word for it. I’ll make you rich, and as for Viola, I’ll get her a
+husband—such a husband that all the girls in Bohemia will turn green
+and yellow with envy…Ascher’s daughter shall have as rich a dowry as
+the daughter of a Rothschild… But there’s one thing, and one thing
+only, that I need, and then all will happen as I promise, in one
+night.”
+
+“And what is that, father!” asked Ephraim, with a slight shudder.
+
+“Luck, luck, Ephraim, my son!” he shouted. “What is a man without luck?
+Put a man who has no luck in a chest full of gold; cover him with gold
+from head to foot; when he crawls out of it, and you search his
+pockets, you’ll find the gold has turned to copper.”
+
+“And will you have luck, father?” asked Ephraim.
+
+“Ephraim, my son!” said the old gambler, with a cunning smile, “I’ll
+tell you something—There are persons whose whole powers are devoted to
+one object—how to win a fortune; in the same way as there are some who
+study to become doctors, and the like, so these study what we call
+luck…and from them I’ve learned it.”
+
+He checked himself in sudden alarm lest he might have said too much,
+and looked searchingly at his son. A pure soul shone through Ephraim’s
+open countenance, and showed his father that his real meaning had not
+been grasped.
+
+“Never mind,” he shouted loudly, waving his arms in the air, “what is
+to come no man can stop. Give me something to drink, Ephraim.”
+
+“Father,” the latter faltered, “don’t you think it will harm you?”
+
+“Don’t be a fool, Ephraim!” cried Ascher, “you don’t know my
+constitution. Besides, didn’t you say that to-day was a fast, when it
+is forbidden to eat anything? And have I asked you for any food? But as
+for drink, that’s quite another thing! The birds of the air can’t do
+without it, much less man!”
+
+Ephraim saw that for that evening, at all events, it would not do to
+oppose his father. He walked into the kitchen where Viola was preparing
+supper, or rather breakfast, for after the fast this was the first meal
+of the day.
+
+“Viola,” he said, “make haste and fetch some fresh wine.”
+
+“For him?” cried Viola, pointing her finger almost threateningly in the
+direction of the sitting-room door.
+
+“Don’t, don’t, Viola!” Ephraim implored.
+
+“And you are fasting!” she said.
+
+“Am I not also fasting for him?” said Ephraim.
+
+With a full bottle in his hand Ephraim once more entered the room. He
+placed the wine upon the table, where the glasses from which Ascher had
+drunk in the morning were still standing.
+
+“Where is Viola?” asked Ascher, who was again pacing the room with firm
+steps.
+
+“She is busy cooking.”
+
+“Tell her she shall have a husband, and a dowry that will make half the
+girls in Bohemia turn green and yellow with envy.”
+
+Then he approached the table, and drank three brimming glasses, one
+after the other. “Now then,” he said, as with his whole weight he
+dropped into the old arm-chair… “Now I’ll have a good night’s rest. I
+need strength and sharp eyes, and they are things which only sleep can
+give. Ephraim, my son,” he continued after awhile in thick, halting
+accents… “tell the watch—Simon is his name, I think—he can give six
+knocks instead of three upon the door, in the morning, he won’t disturb
+me…and to Viola you can say I’ll find her a husband, handsomer than her
+eyes have ever beheld, and tell her on her wedding-day she shall wear
+pearls round her neck like those of a queen—no, no, like those of
+Gudule, her mother.” A few moments later he was sound asleep.
+
+It was the dead of night. All round reigned stillness and peace, the
+peace of night! What a gentle sound those words convey, a sound akin
+only to the word HOME! Fraught, like it, with sweetest balm, a fragrant
+flower from long-lost paradise. Thou art at rest, Ascher, and in safe
+shelter; the breathing of thy children is so restful, so tranquil…
+
+Desist! desist! ’Tis too late. Side by side with the peace of night,
+there dwell Spirits of Evil, the never-resting, vagrant,
+home-destroying guests, who enter unbidden into the human soul! Hark,
+the rustling of their raven-hued plumage! They take wing, they fly
+aloft; ’tis the shriek of the vulture, swooping down upon the guileless
+dove.
+
+Is there no eye to watch thee? Doth not thine own kin see thy foul
+deeds?
+
+Desist!
+
+’Tis too late…
+
+Open is the window, no grating noise has accompanied the unbolting of
+the shutter… The evil spirits have taken care that the faintest sound
+shall die away…even the rough iron obeys their voices…it is they who
+have bidden: “Be silent; betray him not; he is one of us.”
+
+Even the key in the door of the old bureau is turned lightly and
+without noise. Groping fingers are searching for a bulky volume. Have
+they found it? Is there none there to cry in a voice of thunder:
+“Cursed be the father who stretches forth his desecrating hand towards
+the things that are his children’s”?…
+
+They HAVE found it, the greedy fingers! and now, but a spring through
+the open window, and out into the night…
+
+At that moment a sudden ray of light shines through a crack in the door
+of the room… Swiftly the door opens, a girlish figure appears on the
+threshold, a lighted lamp in her hand…
+
+“Gudule!” he shrieks, horror-stricken, and falls senseless at her feet.
+
+Ascher was saved. The terrible blow which had struck him down had not
+crushed the life from him. He was awakened. But when, after four weeks
+of gruesome fever and delirium, his mind had somewhat regained its
+equilibrium, his hair had turned white as snow, and his children beheld
+an old, decrepit man.
+
+That which Viola had denied her father when he returned to them in all
+the vigor of his manhood, she now lavished upon him in his suffering
+and helplessness, with that concentrated power of love, the source of
+which is not human, but Divine. In the space of one night of terror,
+the merest bud of yesterday had suddenly blossomed forth into a flower
+of rarest beauty. Never did gentler hands cool a fever-heated brow,
+never did sweeter voice mingle its melody with the gruesome dreams of
+delirium.
+
+On his sick-bed, lovingly tended by Ephraim and Viola, an ennobling
+influence gradually came over the heart of the old gambler, and so
+deeply touched it, that calm peace crowned his closing days. It was
+strange that the events of that memorable night, and the vicissitudes
+that had preceded it, had left no recollection behind, and his children
+took good care not to re-awaken, by the slightest hint, his sleeping
+memory.
+
+A carriage drew up one day in front of Ascher’s house. There has
+evidently been a splendid crop of oats this year. Uncle Gabriel has
+come. Uncle Gabriel has only lately assumed the additional character of
+father-in-law to Ephraim, for he declared that none but Ephraim should
+be his pet daughter’s husband. And now he has come for the purpose of
+having a confidential chat with Viola. There he sits, the kind-hearted,
+simple-minded man, every line of his honest face eloquent with
+good-humor and happiness, still guilty of an occasional violent
+onslaught upon his thighs. Viola still remains his “little spit-fire.”
+
+“Now, Viola, my little spit-fire,” said he, “won’t you yet allow me to
+talk to my Nathan about you? Upon my word, the boy can’t bear the
+suspense any longer.”
+
+“Uncle,” says Viola, and a crimson blush dyes her pale cheeks: “Uncle,”
+she repeats, in a tone of such deep earnestness, that the laughing
+expression upon Gabriel’s face instantly vanishes, “please don’t talk
+to him at all. MY place is with my father!”
+
+And to all appearances Viola will keep her word.
+
+Had she taken upon herself a voluntary penance for having, in her
+heart’s bitter despair, presumed to abjure her faith in the Sechûs of
+her mother? Or was there yet another reason? The heart of woman is a
+strangely sensitive thing. It loves not to build its happiness upon the
+hidden ruins of another’s life.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEVERED HAND
+
+BY WILHELM HAUFF
+
+
+I was born in Constantinople; my father was a dragoman at the Porte,
+and besides, carried on a fairly lucrative business in sweet-scented
+perfumes and silk goods. He gave me a good education; he partly
+instructed me himself, and also had me instructed by one of our
+priests. He at first intended me to succeed him in business one day,
+but as I showed greater aptitude than he had expected, he destined me,
+on the advice of his friends, to be a doctor; for if a doctor has
+learned a little more than the ordinary charlatan, he can make his
+fortune in Constantinople. Many Franks frequented our house, and one of
+them persuaded my father to allow me to travel to his native land to
+the city of Paris, where such things could be best acquired and free of
+charge. He wished, however, to take me with himself gratuitously on his
+journey home. My father, who had also travelled in his youth, agreed,
+and the Frank told me to hold myself in readiness three months hence. I
+was beside myself with joy at the idea of seeing foreign countries, and
+eagerly awaited the moment when we should embark. The Frank had at last
+concluded his business and prepared himself for the journey. On the
+evening before our departure my father led me into his little bedroom.
+There I saw splendid dresses and arms lying on the table. My looks were
+however chiefly attracted to an immense heap of gold, for I had never
+before seen so much collected together.
+
+My father embraced me and said: “Behold, my son, I have procured for
+thee clothes for the journey. These weapons are thine; they are the
+same which thy grandfather hung around me when I went abroad. I know
+that thou canst use them aright; but only make use of them when thou
+art attacked; on such occasions, however, defend thyself bravely. My
+property is not large; behold I have divided it into three parts, one
+part for thee, another for my support and spare money, but the third is
+to me a sacred and untouched property, it is for thee in the hour of
+need.” Thus spoke my old father, tears standing in his eyes, perhaps
+from some foreboding, for I never saw him again.
+
+The journey passed off very well; we had soon reached the land of the
+Franks, and six days later we arrived in the large city of Paris. There
+my Frankish friend hired a room for me, and advised me to spend wisely
+my money, which amounted in all to two thousand dollars. I lived three
+years in this city, and learned what is necessary for a skilful doctor
+to know. I should not, however, be stating the truth if I said that I
+liked being there, for the customs of this nation displeased me;
+besides, I had only a few chosen friends there, and these were noble
+young men.
+
+The longing after home at last possessed me mightily; during the whole
+of that time I had not heard anything from my father, and I therefore
+seized a favorable opportunity of reaching home. An embassy from France
+left for Turkey. I acted as surgeon to the suite of the Ambassador and
+arrived happily in Stamboul. My father’s house was locked, and the
+neighbors, who were surprised on seeing me, told me my father had died
+two months ago. The priest who had instructed me in my youth brought me
+the key; alone and desolate I entered the empty house. All was still in
+the same position as my father had left it, only the gold which I was
+to inherit was gone. I questioned the priest about it, and he, bowing,
+said: “Your father died a saint, for he has bequeathed his gold to the
+Church.” This was and remained inexplicable to me. However, what could
+I do? I had no witness against the priest, and had to be glad that he
+had not considered the house and the goods of my father as a bequest.
+This was the first misfortune that I encountered. Henceforth nothing
+but ill-luck attended me. My reputation as doctor would not spread at
+all, because I was ashamed to act the charlatan; and I felt everywhere
+the want of the recommendation of my father, who would have introduced
+me to the richest and most distinguished, but who now no longer thought
+of the poor Zaleukos! The goods of my father also had no sale, for his
+customers had deserted him after his death, and new ones are only to be
+got slowly.
+
+Thus when I was one day meditating sadly over my position, it occurred
+to me that I had often seen in France men of my nation travelling
+through the country exhibiting their goods in the markets of the towns.
+I remembered that the people liked to buy of them, because they came
+from abroad, and that such a business would be most lucrative.
+Immediately I resolved what to do. I disposed of my father’s house,
+gave part of the money to a trusty friend to keep for me, and with the
+rest I bought what are very rare in France, shawls, silk goods,
+ointments, and oils, took a berth on board a ship, and thus entered
+upon my second journey to the land of the Franks. It seemed as if
+fortune had favored me again as soon as I had turned my back upon the
+Castles of the Dardanelles. Our journey was short and successful. I
+travelled through the large and small towns of the Franks, and found
+everywhere willing buyers of my goods. My friend in Stamboul always
+sent me fresh stores, and my wealth increased day by day. When I had
+saved at last so much that I thought I might venture on a greater
+undertaking, I travelled with my goods to Italy. I must however confess
+to something, which brought me not a little money: I also employed my
+knowledge of physic. On reaching a town, I had it published that a
+Greek physician had arrived, who had already healed many; and in fact
+my balsam and medicine gained me many a sequin. Thus I had at length
+reached the city of Florence in Italy.
+
+I resolved upon remaining in this town for some time, partly because I
+liked it so well, partly also because I wished to recruit myself from
+the exertions of my travels. I hired a vaulted shop, in that part of
+the town called Sta. Croce, and not far from this a couple of nice
+rooms at an inn, leading out upon a balcony. I immediately had my bills
+circulated, which announced me to be both physician and merchant.
+Scarcely had I opened my shop when I was besieged by buyers, and in
+spite of my high prices I sold more than any one else, because I was
+obliging and friendly towards my customers. Thus I had already lived
+four days happily in Florence, when one evening, as I was about to
+close my vaulted room, and on examining once more the contents of my
+ointment boxes, as I was in the habit of doing, I found in one of the
+small boxes a piece of paper, which I did not remember to have put into
+it.
+
+I unfolded the paper, and found in it an invitation to be on the bridge
+which is called Ponto Vecchio that night exactly at midnight. I was
+thinking for a long time as to who it might be who had invited me
+there; and not knowing a single soul in Florence, I thought perhaps I
+should be secretly conducted to a patient, a thing which had already
+often occurred. I therefore determined to proceed thither, but took
+care to gird on the sword which my father had once presented to me.
+When it was close upon midnight I set out on my journey, and soon
+reached the Ponte Vecchio. I found the bridge deserted, and determined
+to await the appearance of him who called me. It was a cold night; the
+moon shone brightly, and I looked down upon the waves of the Arno,
+which sparkled far away in the moonlight. It was now striking twelve
+o’clock from all the churches of the city, when I looked up and saw a
+tall man standing before me completely covered in a scarlet cloak, one
+end of which hid his face.
+
+At first I was somewhat frightened, because he had made his appearance
+so suddenly; but was however myself again shortly afterwards, and said:
+“If it is you who have ordered me here, say what you want?” The man
+dressed in scarlet turned round and said in an undertone: “Follow!” At
+this, however, I felt a little timid to go alone with this stranger. I
+stood still and said: “Not so, sir, kindly first tell me where; you
+might also let me see your countenance a little, in order to convince
+me that you wish me no harm.” The red one, however, did not seem to pay
+any attention to this. “If thou art unwilling, Zaleukos, remain,” he
+replied, and continued his way. I grew angry. “Do you think,” I
+exclaimed, “a man like myself allows himself to be made a fool of, and
+to have waited on this cold night for nothing?”
+
+In three bounds I had reached him, seized him by his cloak, and cried
+still louder, whilst laying hold of my sabre with my other hand. His
+cloak, however, remained in my hand, and the stranger had disappeared
+round the nearest corner. I became calmer by degrees. I had the cloak
+at any rate, and it was this which would give me the key to this
+remarkable adventure. I put it on and continued my way home. When I was
+at a distance of about a hundred paces from it, some one brushed very
+closely by me and whispered in the language of the Franks: “Take care,
+Count, nothing can be done to-night.” Before I had time, however, to
+turn round, this somebody had passed, and I merely saw a shadow
+hovering along the houses. I perceived that these words did not concern
+me, but rather the cloak, yet it gave me no explanation concerning the
+affair. On the following morning I considered what was to be done. At
+first I had intended to have the cloak cried in the streets, as if I
+had found it. But then the stranger might send for it by a third
+person, and thus no light would be thrown upon the matter. Whilst I was
+thus thinking, I examined the cloak more closely. It was made of thick
+Genoese velvet, scarlet in color, edged with Astrachan fur and richly
+embroidered with gold. The magnificent appearance of the cloak put a
+thought into my mind which I resolved to carry out.
+
+I carried it into my shop and exposed it for sale, but placed such a
+high price upon it that I was sure nobody would buy it. My object in
+this was to scrutinize everybody sharply who might ask for the fur
+cloak; for the figure of the stranger, which I had seen but
+superficially, though with some certainty, after the loss of the cloak,
+I should recognize amongst a thousand. There were many would-be
+purchasers for the cloak, the extraordinary beauty of which attracted
+everybody; but none resembled the stranger in the slightest degree, and
+nobody was willing to pay such a high price as two hundred sequins for
+it. What astonished me was that on asking somebody or other if there
+was not such a cloak in Florence, they all answered “No,” and assured
+me they never had seen so precious and tasteful a piece of work.
+
+Evening was drawing near, when at last a young man appeared, who had
+already been to my place, and who had also offered me a great deal for
+the cloak. He threw a purse with sequins upon the table, and exclaimed:
+“Of a truth, Zaleukos, I must have thy cloak, should I turn into a
+beggar over it!” He immediately began to count his pieces of gold. I
+was in a dangerous position: I had only exposed the cloak, in order
+merely to attract the attention of my stranger, and now a young fool
+came to pay an immense price for it. However, what could I do? I
+yielded; for on the other hand I was delighted at the idea of being so
+handsomely recompensed for my nocturnal adventure.
+
+The young man put the cloak around him and went away, but on reaching
+the threshold he returned; whilst unfastening a piece of paper which
+had been tied to the cloak, and throwing it towards me, he exclaimed:
+“Here, Zaleukos, hangs something which I dare say does not belong to
+the cloak.” I picked up the piece of paper carelessly, but behold, on
+it these words were written: “Bring the cloak at the appointed hour
+to-night to the Ponte Vecchio, four hundred sequins are thine.” I stood
+thunderstruck. Thus I had lost my fortune and completely missed my aim!
+Yet I did not think long. I picked up the two hundred sequins, jumped
+after the one who had bought the cloak, and said: “Dear friend, take
+back your sequins, and give me the cloak; I cannot possibly part with
+it.” He first regarded the matter as a joke; but when he saw that I was
+in earnest, he became angry at my demand, called me a fool, and finally
+it came to blows.
+
+However, I was fortunate enough to wrench the cloak from him in the
+scuffle, and was about to run away with it, when the young man called
+the police to his assistance, and we both appeared before the judge.
+The latter was much surprised at the accusation, and adjudicated the
+cloak in favor of my adversary. I offered the young man twenty, fifty,
+eighty, even a hundred sequins in addition to his two hundred, if he
+would part with the cloak. What my entreaties could not do, my gold
+did. He accepted it. I, however, went away with the cloak triumphantly,
+and had to appear to the whole town of Florence as a madman. I did not
+care, however, about the opinion of the people; I knew better than they
+that I profited after all by the bargain.
+
+Impatiently I awaited the night. At the same hour as before I went with
+the cloak under my arm towards the Ponte Vecchio. With the last stroke
+of twelve the figure appeared out of the darkness, and came towards me.
+It was unmistakably the man whom I had seen yesterday. “Hast thou the
+cloak?” he asked me. “Yes, sir,” I replied; “but it cost me a hundred
+sequins ready money.” “I know it,” replied the other “Look here, here
+are four hundred.” He went with me towards the wide balustrade of the
+bridge, and counted out the money. There were four hundred; they
+sparkled magnificently in the moonlight; their glitter rejoiced my
+heart. Alas, I did not anticipate that this would be its last joy. I
+put the money into my pocket, and was desirous of thoroughly looking at
+my kind and unknown stranger; but he wore a mask, through which dark
+eyes stared at me frightfully. “I thank you, sir, for your kindness,” I
+said to him; “what else do you require of me? I tell you beforehand it
+must be an honorable transaction.” “There is no occasion for alarm,” he
+replied, whilst winding the cloak around his shoulders; “I require your
+assistance as surgeon, not for one alive, but dead.”
+
+“What do you mean?” I exclaimed, full of surprise. “I arrived with my
+sister from abroad.” he said, and beckoned me at the same time to
+follow him. “I lived here with her at the house of a friend. My sister
+died yesterday suddenly of a disease, and my relatives wish to bury her
+to-morrow. According to an old custom of our family all are to be
+buried in the tomb of our ancestors; many, notwithstanding, who died in
+foreign countries are buried there and embalmed. I do not grudge my
+relatives her body, but for my father I want at least the head of his
+daughter, in order that he may see her once more.” This custom of
+severing the heads of beloved relatives appeared to me somewhat awful,
+yet I did not dare to object to it lest I should offend the stranger. I
+told him that I was acquainted with the embalming of the dead, and
+begged him to conduct me to the deceased. Yet I could not help asking
+him why all this must be done so mysteriously and at night? He answered
+me that his relatives, who considered his intention horrible, objected
+to it by daylight; if only the head were severed, then they could say
+no more about it; although he might have brought me the head, yet a
+natural feeling had prevented him from severing it himself.
+
+In the meantime we had reached a large, splendid house. My companion
+pointed it out to me as the end of our nocturnal walk. We passed the
+principal entrance of the house, entered a little door, which the
+stranger carefully locked behind him, and now ascended in the dark a
+narrow spiral staircase. It led towards a dimly lighted passage, out of
+which we entered a room lighted by a lamp fastened to the ceiling.
+
+In this room was a bed, on which the corpse lay. The stranger turned
+aside his face, evidently endeavoring to hide his tears. He pointed
+towards the bed, telling me to do my business well and quickly, and
+left the room.
+
+I took my instruments, which I as surgeon always carried about with me,
+and approached the bed. Only the head of the corpse was visible, and it
+was so beautiful that I experienced involuntarily the deepest sympathy.
+Dark hair hung down in long plaits, the features were pale, the eyes
+closed. At first I made an incision into the skin, after the manner of
+surgeons when amputating a limb. I then took my sharpest knife, and
+with one stroke cut the throat. But oh, horror! The dead opened her
+eyes, but immediately closed them again, and with a deep sigh she now
+seemed to breathe her last. At the same moment a stream of hot blood
+shot towards me from the wound. I was convinced that the poor creature
+had been killed by me. That she was dead there was no doubt, for there
+was no recovery from this wound. I stood for some minutes in painful
+anguish at what had happened. Had the “red-cloak” deceived me, or had
+his sister perhaps merely been apparently dead? The latter seemed to me
+more likely. But I dare not tell the brother of the deceased that
+perhaps a little less deliberate cut might have awakened her without
+killing her; therefore I wished to sever the head completely; but once
+more the dying woman groaned, stretched herself out in painful
+movements, and died.
+
+Fright overpowered me, and shuddering, I hastened out of the room. But
+outside in the passage it was dark; for the light was out, no trace of
+my companion was to be seen, and I was obliged, haphazard, to feel my
+way in the dark along the wall, in order to reach the staircase. I
+discovered it at last and descended, partly falling and partly gliding.
+But there was not a soul downstairs. I merely found the door ajar, and
+breathed freer on reaching the street, for I had felt very strange
+inside the house. Urged on by terror, I rushed towards my
+dwelling-place, and buried myself in the cushions of my bed, in order
+to forget the terrible thing that I had done.
+
+But sleep deserted me, and only the morning admonished me again to take
+courage. It seemed to me probable that the man who had induced me to
+commit this nefarious deed, as it now appeared to me, might not
+denounce me. I immediately resolved to set to work in my vaulted room,
+and if possible to assume an indifferent look. But alas! an additional
+circumstance, which I only now noticed, increased my anxiety still
+more. My cap and my girdle, as well as my instruments, were wanting,
+and I was uncertain as to whether I had left them in the room of the
+murdered girl, or whether I had lost them in my flight. The former
+seemed indeed the more likely, and thus I could easily be discovered as
+the murderer.
+
+At the accustomed hour I opened my vaulted room. My neighbor came in,
+as was his wont every morning, for he was a talkative man. “Well,” he
+said, “what do you say about the terrible affair which has occurred
+during the night?” I pretended not to know anything. “What, do you not
+know what is known all over the town? Are you not aware that the
+loveliest flower in Florence, Bianca, the Governor’s daughter, was
+murdered last night? I saw her only yesterday driving through the
+streets in so cheerful a manner with her intended one, for to-day the
+marriage was to have taken place.” I felt deeply wounded at each word
+of my neighbor. Many a time my torment was renewed, for every one of my
+customers told me of the affair, each one more ghastly than the other,
+and yet nobody could relate anything more terrible than that which I
+had seen myself.
+
+About mid-day a police-officer entered my shop and requested me to send
+the people away. “Signor Zaleukos” he said, producing the things which
+I had missed, “do these things belong to you?” I was thinking as to
+whether I should not entirely repudiate them, but on seeing through the
+door, which stood ajar, my landlord and several acquaintances, I
+determined not to aggravate the affair by telling a lie, and
+acknowledged myself as the owner of the things. The police-officer
+asked me to follow him, and led me towards a large building which I
+soon recognized as the prison. There he showed me into a room
+meanwhile.
+
+My situation was terrible, as I thought of it in my solitude. The idea
+of having committed a murder, unintentionally, constantly presented
+itself to my mind. I also could not conceal from myself that the
+glitter of the gold had captivated my feelings, otherwise I should not
+have fallen blindly into the trap. Two hours after my arrest I was led
+out of my cell. I descended several steps until at last I reached a
+great hall. Around a long table draped in black were seated twelve men,
+mostly old men. There were benches along the sides of the hall, filled
+with the most distinguished of Florence. The galleries, which were
+above, were thickly crowded with spectators. When I had stepped towards
+the table covered with black cloth, a man with a gloomy and sad
+countenance rose; it was the Governor. He said to the assembly that he
+as the father in this affair could not sentence, and that he resigned
+his place on this occasion to the eldest of the Senators. The eldest of
+the Senators was an old man at least ninety years of age. He stood in a
+bent attitude, and his temples were covered with thin white hair, but
+his eyes were as yet very fiery, and his voice powerful and weighty. He
+commenced by asking me whether I confessed to the murder. I requested
+him to allow me to speak, and related undauntedly and with a clear
+voice what I had done, and what I knew.
+
+I noticed that the Governor, during my recital, at one time turned
+pale, and at another time red. When I had finished, he rose angrily:
+“What, wretch!” he exclaimed, “dost thou even dare to impute a crime
+which thou hast committed from greediness to another?” The Senator
+reprimanded him for his interruption, since he had voluntarily
+renounced his right; besides it was not clear that I did the deed from
+greediness, for, according to his own statement, nothing had been
+stolen from the victim. He even went further. He told the Governor that
+he must give an account of the early life of his daughter, for then
+only it would be possible to decide whether I had spoken the truth or
+not. At the same time he adjourned the court for the day, in order, as
+he said, to consult the papers of the deceased, which the Governor
+would give him. I was again taken back to my prison, where I spent a
+wretched day, always fervently wishing that a link between the deceased
+and the “red-cloak” might be discovered. Full of hope, I entered the
+Court of Justice the next day. Several letters were lying upon the
+table. The old Senator asked me whether they were in my hand-writing. I
+looked at them and noticed that they must have been written by the same
+hand as the other two papers which I had received. I communicated this
+to the Senators, but no attention was paid to it, and they told me that
+I might have written both, for the signature of the letters was
+undoubtedly a Z., the first letter of my name. The letters, however,
+contained threats against the deceased, and warnings against the
+marriage which she was about to contract.
+
+The Governor seemed to have given extraordinary information concerning
+me, for I was treated with more suspicion and rigor on this day. I
+referred, to justify myself, to my papers which must be in my room, but
+was told they had been looked for without success. Thus at the
+conclusion of this sitting all hope vanished, and on being brought into
+the Court the third day, judgment was pronounced on me. I was convicted
+of wilful murder and condemned to death. Things had come to such a
+pass! Deserted by all that was precious to me upon earth, far away from
+home, I was to die innocently in the bloom of my life.
+
+On the evening of this terrible day which had decided my fate, I was
+sitting in my lonely cell, my hopes were gone, my thoughts steadfastly
+fixed upon death, when the door of my prison opened, and in came a man,
+who for a long time looked at me silently. “Is it thus I find you
+again, Zaleukos?” he said. I had not recognized him by the dim light of
+my lamp, but the sound of his voice roused in me old remembrances. It
+was Valetti, one of those few friends whose acquaintance I made in the
+city of Paris when I was studying there. He said that he had come to
+Florence accidentally, where his father, who was a distinguished man,
+lived. He had heard about my affair, and had come to see me once more,
+and to hear from my own lips how I could have committed such a crime. I
+related to him the whole affair. He seemed much surprised at it, and
+adjured me, as my only friend, to tell him all, in order not to leave
+the world with a lie behind me. I confirmed my assertions with an oath
+that I had spoken the truth, and that I was not guilty of anything,
+except that the glitter of the gold had dazzled me, and that I had not
+perceived the improbability of the story of the stranger. “Did you not
+know Bianca?” he asked me. I assured him that I had never seen her.
+Valetti now related to me that a profound mystery rested on the affair,
+that the Governor had very much accelerated my condemnation, and now a
+report was spread that I had known Bianca for a long time, and had
+murdered her out of revenge for her marriage with some one else. I told
+him that all this coincided exactly with the “red-cloak,” but that I
+was unable to prove his participation in the affair. Valetti embraced
+me weeping, and promised me to do all, at least to save my life.
+
+I had little hope, though I knew that Valetti a clever man, well versed
+in the law, and that he would do all in his power to save my life. For
+two long days I was in uncertainty; at last Valetti appeared. “I bring
+consolation, though painful. You will live and be free with the loss of
+one hand.” Affected, I thanked my friend for saving my life. He told me
+that the Governor had been inexorable in having the affair investigated
+a second time, but that he at last, in order not to appear unjust, had
+agreed, that if a similar case could be found in the law books of the
+history of Florence, my punishment should be the same as the one
+recorded in these books. He and his father had searched in the old
+books day and night, and at last found a case quite similar to mine.
+The sentence was: That his left hand be cut off, his property
+confiscated, and he himself banished for ever. This was my punishment
+also, and he asked me to prepare for the painful hour which awaited me.
+I will not describe to you that terrible hour, when I laid my hand upon
+the block in the public market-place and my own blood shot over me in
+broad streams.
+
+Valetti took me to his house until I had recovered; he then most
+generously supplied me with money for travelling, for all I had
+acquired with so much difficulty had fallen a prey to the law. I left
+Florence for Sicily and embarked on the first ship that I found for
+Constantinople. My hope was fixed upon the sum which I had entrusted to
+my friend. I also requested to be allowed to live with him. But how
+great was my astonishment on being asked why I did not wish to live in
+my own house. He told me that some unknown man had bought a house in
+the Greek Quarter in my name, and this very man had also told the
+neighbors of my early arrival. I immediately proceeded thither
+accompanied by my friend, and was received by all my old acquaintances
+joyfully. An old merchant gave me a letter, which the man who had
+bought the house for me had left behind. I read as follows: “Zaleukos!
+Two hands are prepared to work incessantly, in order that you may not
+feel the loss of one of yours. The house which you see and all its
+contents are yours, and every year you will receive enough to be
+counted amongst the rich of your people. Forgive him who is unhappier
+than yourself!” I could guess who had written it, and in answer to my
+question, the merchant told me it had been a man, whom he took for a
+Frank, and who had worn a scarlet cloak. I knew enough to understand
+that the stranger was, after all, not entirely devoid of noble
+intentions. In my new house I found everything arranged in the best
+style, also a vaulted room stored with goods, more splendid than I had
+ever had. Ten years have passed since. I still continue my commercial
+travels, more from old custom than necessity, yet I have never again
+seen that country where I became so unfortunate. Every year since, I
+have received a thousand gold-pieces; and although I rejoice to know
+that unfortunate man to be noble, yet he cannot relieve me of the
+sorrow of my soul, for the terrible picture of the murdered Bianca is
+continually on my mind.
+
+
+
+
+PETER SCHLEMIHL
+
+BY ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+After a prosperous, but to me very wearisome, voyage, we came at last
+into port. Immediately on landing I got together my few effects; and,
+squeezing myself through the crowd, went into the nearest and humblest
+inn which first met my gaze. On asking for a room the waiter looked at
+me from head to foot, and conducted me to one. I asked for some cold
+water, and for the correct address of Mr. Thomas John, which was
+described as being “by the north gate, the first country-house to the
+right, a large new house of red and white marble, with many pillars.”
+This was enough. As the day was not yet far advanced, I untied my
+bundle, took out my newly-turned black coat, dressed myself in my best
+clothes, and, with my letter of recommendation, set out for the man who
+was to assist me in the attainment of my moderate wishes.
+
+After proceeding up the north street, I reached the gate, and saw the
+marble columns glittering through the trees. Having wiped the dust from
+my shoes with my pocket-handkerchief, and readjusted my cravat, I rang
+the bell—offering up at the same time a silent prayer. The door flew
+open, and the porter sent in my name. I had soon the honor to be
+invited into the park, where Mr. John was walking with a few friends. I
+recognized him at once by his corpulency and self-complacent air. He
+received me very well—just as a rich man receives a poor devil; and
+turning to me, took my letter. “Oh, from my brother! it is a long time
+since I heard from him: is he well?—Yonder,” he went on,—turning to the
+company, and pointing to a distant hill—“yonder is the site of the new
+building.” He broke the seal without discontinuing the conversation,
+which turned upon riches. “The man,” he said, “who does not possess at
+least a million is a poor wretch.” “Oh, how true!” I exclaimed, in the
+fulness of my heart. He seemed pleased at this, and replied with a
+smile: “Stop here, my dear friend; afterwards I shall, perhaps, have
+time to tell you what I think of this,” pointing to the letter, which
+he then put into his pocket, and turned round to the company, offering
+his arm to a young lady: his example was followed by the other
+gentlemen, each politely escorting a lady; and the whole party
+proceeded towards a little hill thickly planted with blooming roses.
+
+I followed without troubling any one, for none took the least further
+notice of me. The party was in high spirits—lounging about and
+jesting—speaking sometimes of trifling matters very seriously, and of
+serious matters as triflingly—and exercising their wit in particular to
+great advantage on their absent friends and their affairs. I was too
+ignorant of what they were talking about to understand much of it, and
+too anxious and absorbed in my own reflections to occupy myself with
+the solution of such enigmas as their conversation presented.
+
+By this time we had reached the thicket of roses. The lovely Fanny, who
+seemed to be the queen of the day, was obstinately bent on plucking a
+rose-branch for herself, and in the attempt pricked her finger with a
+thorn. The crimson stream, as if flowing from the dark-tinted rose,
+tinged her fair hand with the purple current. This circumstance set the
+whole company in commotion; and court-plaster was called for. A quiet,
+elderly man, tall and meagre-looking, who was one of the company, but
+whom I had not before observed, immediately put his hand into the tight
+breast-pocket of his old-fashioned coat of gray sarcenet, pulled out a
+small letter-case, opened it, and, with a most respectful bow,
+presented the lady with the wished-for article. She received it without
+noticing the giver, or thanking him. The wound was bound up, and the
+party proceeded along the hill towards the back part, from which they
+enjoyed an extensive view across the green labyrinth of the park to the
+wide-spreading ocean. The view was truly a magnificent one. A slight
+speck was observed on the horizon, between the dark flood and the azure
+sky. “A telescope!” called out Mr. John; but before any of the servants
+could answer the summons the gray man, with a modest bow, drew his hand
+from his pocket, and presented a beautiful Dollond’s telescope to Mr.
+John, who, on looking through it, informed the company that the speck
+in the distance was the ship which had sailed yesterday, and which was
+detained within sight of the haven by contrary winds. The telescope
+passed from hand to hand, but was not returned to the owner, whom I
+gazed at with astonishment, and could not conceive how so large an
+instrument could have proceeded from so small a pocket. This, however,
+seemed to excite surprise in no one; and the gray man appeared to
+create as little interest as myself.
+
+Refreshments were now brought forward, consisting of the rarest fruits
+from all parts of the world, served up in the most costly dishes. Mr.
+John did the honors with unaffected grace, and addressed me for the
+second time, saying, “You had better eat; you did not get such things
+at sea.” I acknowledged his politeness with a bow, which, however, he
+did not perceive, having turned round to speak with some one else.
+
+The party would willingly have stopped some time here on the declivity
+of the hill, to enjoy the extensive prospect before them, had they not
+been apprehensive of the dampness of the grass. “How delightful it
+would be,” exclaimed some one, “if we had a Turkey carpet to lay down
+here!” The wish was scarcely expressed when the man in the gray coat
+put his hand in his pocket, and, with a modest and even humble air,
+pulled out a rich Turkey carpet, embroidered in gold. The servant
+received it as a matter of course, and spread it out on the desired
+spot; and, without any ceremony, the company seated themselves on it.
+Confounded by what I saw, I gazed again at the man, his pocket, and the
+carpet, which was more than twenty feet in length and ten in breadth,
+and rubbed my eyes, not knowing what to think, particularly as no one
+saw anything extraordinary in the matter.
+
+I would gladly have made some inquiries respecting the man, and asked
+who he was, but knew not to whom I should address myself, for I felt
+almost more afraid of the servants than of their master. At length I
+took courage, and stepping up to a young man who seemed of less
+consequence than the others, and who was more frequently standing by
+himself, I begged of him, in a low tone, to tell me who the obliging
+gentleman was in the gray cloak. “That man who looks like a piece of
+thread just escaped from a tailor’s needle?” “Yes; he who is standing
+alone yonder.” “I do not know,” was the reply; and to avoid, as it
+seemed, any further conversation with me, he turned away, and spoke of
+some commonplace matters with a neighbor.
+
+The sun’s rays now being stronger, the ladies complained of feeling
+oppressed by the heat; and the lovely Fanny, turning carelessly to the
+gray man, to whom I had not yet observed that any one had addressed the
+most trifling question, asked him if, perhaps, he had not a tent about
+him. He replied, with a low bow, as if some unmerited honor had been
+conferred upon him; and, putting his hand in his pocket, drew from it
+canvas, poles, cord, iron—in short, everything belonging to the most
+splendid tent for a party of pleasure. The young gentlemen assisted in
+pitching it; and it covered the whole carpet; but no one seemed to
+think that there was anything extraordinary in it.
+
+I had long secretly felt uneasy—indeed, almost horrified; but how was
+this feeling increased when, at the next wish expressed, I saw him take
+from his pocket three horses! Yes, Adelbert, three large beautiful
+steeds, with saddles and bridles, out of the very pocket whence had
+already issued a letter-case, a telescope, a carpet twenty feet broad
+and ten in length, and a pavilion of the same extent, with all its
+appurtenances! Did I not assure thee that my own eyes had seen all
+this, thou wouldst certainly disbelieve it.
+
+This man, although he appeared so humble and embarrassed in his air and
+manners, and passed so unheeded, had inspired me with such a feeling of
+horror by the unearthly paleness of his countenance, from which I could
+not avert my eyes, that I was unable longer to endure it.
+
+I determined, therefore, to steal away from the company, which appeared
+no difficult matter, from the undistinguished part I acted in it. I
+resolved to return to the town, and pay another visit to Mr. John the
+following morning, and, at the same time, make some inquiries of him
+relative to the extraordinary man in gray, provided I could command
+sufficient courage. Would to Heaven that such good fortune had awaited
+me!
+
+I had stolen safely down the hill, through the thicket of roses, and
+now found myself on an open plain; but fearing lest I should be met out
+of the proper path, crossing the grass, I cast an inquisitive glance
+around, and started as I beheld the man in the gray cloak advancing
+towards me. He took off his hat, and made me a lower bow than mortal
+had ever yet favored me with. It was evident that he wished to address
+me; and I could not avoid encountering him without seeming rude. I
+returned his salutation, therefore, and stood bareheaded in the
+sunshine as if rooted to the ground. I gazed at him with the utmost
+horror, and felt like a bird fascinated by a serpent.
+
+He affected himself to have an air of embarassment. With his eyes on
+the ground, he bowed several times, drew nearer, and at last, without
+looking up, addressed me in a low and hesitating voice, almost in the
+tone of a suppliant: “Will you, sir, excuse my importunity in venturing
+to intrude upon you in so unusual a manner? I have a request to
+make—would you most graciously be pleased to allow me—?” “Hold! for
+Heaven’s sake!” I exclaimed; “what can I do for a man who—” I stopped
+in some confusion, which he seemed to share. After a moment’s pause he
+resumed: “During the short time I have had the pleasure to be in your
+company, I have—permit me, sir, to say—beheld with unspeakable
+admiration your most beautiful shadow, and remarked the air of noble
+indifference with which you, at the same time, turn from the glorious
+picture at your feet, as if disdaining to vouchsafe a glance at it.
+Excuse the boldness of my proposal; but perhaps you would have no
+objection to sell me your shadow?” He stopped, while my head turned
+round like a mill-wheel. What was I to think of so extraordinary a
+proposal? To sell my shadow! “He must be mad,” thought I; and assuming
+a tone more in character with the submissiveness of his own, I replied,
+“My good friend, are you not content with your own shadow? This would
+be a bargain of a strange nature indeed!”
+
+“I have in my pocket,” he said, “many things which may possess some
+value in your eyes: for that inestimable shadow I should deem the
+highest price too little.”
+
+A cold shuddering came over me as I recollected the pocket; and I could
+not conceive what had induced me to style him “GOOD FRIEND,” which I
+took care not to repeat, endeavoring to make up for it by studied
+politeness.
+
+I now resumed the conversation: “But, sir—excuse your humble servant—I
+am at a loss to comprehend your meaning,—my shadow?—how can I?”
+
+“Permit me,” he exclaimed, interrupting me, “to gather up the noble
+image as it lies on the ground, and to take it into my possession. As
+to the manner of accomplishing it, leave that to me. In return, and as
+an evidence of my gratitude, I shall leave you to choose among all the
+treasures I have in my pocket, among which are a variety of enchanting
+articles, not exactly adapted for you, who, I am sure, would like
+better to have the wishing-cap of Fortunatus, all made new and sound
+again, and a lucky purse which also belonged to him.”
+
+“Fortunatus’s purse!” cried I; and, great as was my mental anguish,
+with that one word he had penetrated the deepest recesses of my soul. A
+feeling of giddiness came over me, and double ducats glittered before
+my eyes.
+
+“Be pleased, gracious sir, to examine this purse, and make a trial of
+its contents.” He put his hand in his pocket, and drew forth a large
+strongly stitched bag of stout Cordovan leather, with a couple of
+strings to match, and presented it to me. I seized it—took out ten
+gold-pieces, then ten more, and this I repeated again and again.
+Instantly I held out my hand to him. “Done,” said I; “the bargain is
+made: my shadow for the purse.” “Agreed,” he answered; and, immediately
+kneeling down, I beheld him, with extraordinary dexterity, gently
+loosen my shadow from the grass, lift it up, fold it together, and, at
+last, put it his pocket. He then rose, bowed once more to me, and
+directed his steps towards the rose bushes. I fancied I heard him
+quietly laughing to himself. However, I held the purse fast by the two
+strings. The earth was basking beneath the brightness of the sun; but I
+presently lost all consciousness.
+
+On recovering my senses, I hastened to quit a place where I hoped there
+was nothing further to detain me. I first filled my pockets with gold,
+then fastened the strings of the purse round my neck, and concealed it
+in my bosom. I passed unnoticed out of the park, gained the high-road,
+and took the way to the town. As I was thoughtfully approaching the
+gate, I heard some one behind me exclaiming: “Young man! young man! you
+have lost your shadow!” I turned, and perceived an old woman calling
+after me. “Thank you, my good woman,” said I; and throwing her a piece
+of gold for her well-intended information, I stepped under the trees.
+At the gate, again, it was my fate to hear the sentry inquiring where
+the gentleman had left his shadow; and immediately I heard a couple of
+women exclaiming, “Jesu Maria! the poor man has no shadow.” All this
+began to depress me, and I carefully avoided walking in the sun; but
+this could not everywhere be the case: for in the next broad street I
+had to cross, and, unfortunately for me, at the very hour in which the
+boys were coming out of school, a humpbacked lout of a fellow—I see him
+yet—soon made the discovery that I was without a shadow, and
+communicated the news, with loud outcries, to a knot of young urchins.
+The whole swarm proceeded immediately to reconnoitre me, and to pelt me
+with mud. “People,” cried they, “are generally accustomed to take their
+shadows with them when they walk in the sunshine.”
+
+In order to drive them away I threw gold by handfuls among them, and
+sprang into a hackney-coach which some compassionate spectators sent to
+my rescue.
+
+As soon as I found myself alone in the rolling vehicle I began to weep
+bitterly. I had by this time a misgiving that, in the same degree in
+which gold in this world prevails over merit and virtue, by so much
+one’s shadow excels gold; and now that I had sacrificed my conscience
+for riches, and given my shadow in exchange for mere gold, what on
+earth would become of me?
+
+As the coach stopped at the door of my late inn, I felt much perplexed,
+and not at all disposed to enter so wretched an abode. I called for my
+things, and received them with an air of contempt, threw down a few
+gold-pieces, and desired to be conducted to a first-rate hotel. This
+house had a northern aspect, so that I had nothing to fear from the
+sun. I dismissed the coachman with gold, asked to be conducted to the
+best apartment, and locked myself up in it as soon as possible.
+
+Imagine, my friend, what I then set about? O my dear Chamisso! even to
+thee I blush to mention what follows.
+
+I drew the ill-fated purse from my bosom; and, in a sort of frenzy that
+raged like a self-fed fire within me, I took out gold—gold—gold—more
+and more, till I strewed it on the floor, trampled upon it, and
+feasting on its very sound and brilliancy, added coins to coins,
+rolling and revelling on the gorgeous bed, until I sank exhausted.
+
+Thus passed away that day and evening; and as my door remained locked,
+night found me still lying on the gold, where, at last, sleep
+overpowered me.
+
+Then I dreamed of thee, and fancied I stood behind the glass door of
+thy little room, and saw thee seated at thy table between a skeleton
+and a bunch of dried plants; before thee lay open the works of Haller,
+Humboldt, and Linnaeus; on thy sofa a volume of Goethe, and the
+Enchanted Ring. I stood a long time contemplating thee, and everything
+in thy apartment; and again turning my gaze upon thee, I perceived that
+thou wast motionless—thou didst not breathe—thou wast dead.
+
+I awoke—it seemed yet early—my watch had stopped. I felt thirsty,
+faint, and worn out; for since the preceding morning I had not tasted
+food. I now cast from me, with loathing and disgust, the very gold with
+which but a short time before I had satiated my foolish heart. Now I
+knew not where to put it—I dared not leave it lying there. I examined
+my purse to see if it would hold it,—impossible! Neither of my windows
+opened on the sea. I had no other resource but, with toil and great
+fatigue, to drag it to a huge chest which stood in a closet in my room;
+where I placed it all, with the exception of a handful or two. Then I
+threw myself, exhausted, into an arm-chair, till the people of the
+house should be up and stirring. As soon as possible I sent for some
+refreshment, and desired to see the landlord.
+
+I entered into some conversation with this man respecting the
+arrangement of my future establishment. He recommended for my personal
+attendant one Bendel, whose honest and intelligent countenance
+immediately prepossessed me in his favor. It is this individual whose
+persevering attachment has consoled me in all the miseries of my life,
+and enabled me to bear up under my wretched lot. I was occupied the
+whole day in my room with servants in want of a situation, and
+tradesmen of every description. I decided on my future plans, and
+purchased various articles of vertu and splendid jewels, in order to
+get rid of some of my gold; but nothing seemed to diminish the
+inexhaustible heap.
+
+I now reflected on my situation with the utmost uneasiness. I dared not
+take a single step beyond my own door; and in the evening I had forty
+wax tapers lighted before I ventured to leave the shade. I reflected
+with horror on the frightful encounter with the schoolboys; yet I
+resolved, if I could command sufficient courage, to put the public
+opinion to a second trial. The nights were now moonlight. Late in the
+evening I wrapped myself in a large cloak, pulled my hat over my eyes,
+and, trembling like a criminal, stole out of the house.
+
+I did not venture to leave the friendly shadow of the houses until I
+had reached a distant part of the town; and then I emerged into the
+broad moonlight, fully prepared to hear my fate from the lips of the
+passers-by.
+
+Spare me, my beloved friend, the painful recital of all that I was
+doomed to endure. The women often expressed the deepest sympathy for
+me—a sympathy not less piercing to my soul than the scoffs of the young
+people, and the proud contempt of the men, particularly of the more
+corpulent, who threw an ample shadow before them. A fair and beauteous
+maiden, apparently accompanied by her parents, who gravely kept looking
+straight before them, chanced to cast a beaming glance on me; but was
+evidently startled at perceiving that I was without a shadow, and
+hiding her lovely face in her veil, and holding down her head, passed
+silently on.
+
+This was past all endurance. Tears streamed from my eyes; and with a
+heart pierced through and through, I once more took refuge in the
+shade. I leaned on the houses for support, and reached home at a late
+hour, worn out with fatigue.
+
+I passed a sleepless night. My first care the following morning was to
+devise some means of discovering the man in the gray cloak. Perhaps I
+may succeed in finding him; and how fortunate it were if he should be
+as ill satisfied with his bargain as I am with mine!
+
+I desired Bendel to be sent for, who seemed to possess some tact and
+ability. I minutely described to him the individual who possessed a
+treasure without which life itself was rendered a burden to me. I
+mentioned the time and place at which I had seen him, named all the
+persons who were present, and concluded with the following directions:
+He was to inquire for a Dollond’s telescope, a Turkey carpet interwoven
+with gold, a marquee, and, finally, for some black steeds—the history,
+without entering into particulars, of all these being singularly
+connected with the mysterious character who seemed to pass unnoticed by
+every one, but whose appearance had destroyed the peace and happiness
+of my life.
+
+As I spoke I produced as much gold as I could hold in my two hands, and
+added jewels and precious stones of still greater value. “Bendel,” said
+I, “this smooths many a path, and renders that easy which seems almost
+impossible. Be not sparing of it, for I am not so; but go, and rejoice
+thy master with intelligence on which depend all his hopes.”
+
+He departed, and returned late and melancholy. None of Mr. John’s
+servants, none of his guests (and Bendel had spoken to them all), had
+the slightest recollection of the man in the gray cloak. The new
+telescope was still there, but no one knew how it had come; and the
+tent and Turkey carpet were still stretched out on the hill. The
+servants boasted of their master’s wealth; but no one seemed to know by
+what means he had become possessed of these newly acquired luxuries. He
+was gratified; and it gave him no concern to be ignorant how they had
+come to him. The black coursers which had been mounted on that day were
+in the stables of the young gentlemen of the party, who admired them as
+the munificent present of Mr. John.
+
+Such was the information I gained from Bendel’s detailed account; but,
+in spite of this unsatisfactory result, his zeal and prudence deserved
+and received my commendation. In a gloomy mood, I made him a sign to
+withdraw.
+
+“I have, sir,” he continued, “laid before you all the information in my
+power relative to the subject of the most importance to you. I have now
+a message to deliver which I received early this morning from a person
+at the gate, as I was proceeding to execute the commission in which I
+have so unfortunately failed. The man’s words were precisely these:
+‘Tell your master, Peter Schlemihl, he will not see me here again. I am
+going to cross the sea; a favorable wind now calls all the passengers
+on board; but in a year and a day I shall have the honor of paying him
+a visit; when, in all probability, I shall have a proposal to make to
+him of a very agreeable nature. Commend me to him most respectfully,
+with many thanks.’ I inquired his name; but he said you would remember
+him.”
+
+“What sort of a person was he?” cried I, in great emotion; and Bendel
+described the man in the gray coat feature by feature, word for word;
+in short, the very individual in search of whom he had been sent. “How
+unfortunate!” cried I bitterly; “it was himself.” Scales, as it were,
+fell from Bendel’s eyes. “Yes, it was he,” cried he, “undoubtedly it
+was he; and fool, madman, that I was, I did not recognize him—I did
+not, and I have betrayed my master!” He then broke out into a torrent
+of self-reproach; and his distress really excited my compassion. I
+endeavored to console him, repeatedly assuring him that I entertained
+no doubt of his fidelity; and despatched him immediately to the wharf,
+to discover, if possible, some trace of the extraordinary being. But on
+that very morning many vessels which had been detained in port by
+contrary winds had set sail, all bound to different parts of the globe;
+and the gray man had disappeared like a shadow.
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+Of what use were wings to a man fast bound in chains of iron? They
+would but increase the horror of his despair. Like the dragon guarding
+his treasure, I remained cut off from all human intercourse, and
+starving amidst my very gold, for it gave me no pleasure: I
+anathematized it as the source of all my wretchedness.
+
+Sole depository of my fearful secret, I trembled before the meanest of
+my attendants, whom, at the same time, I envied; for he possessed a
+shadow, and could venture to go out in the day-time, while I shut
+myself up in my room day and night, and indulged in all the bitterness
+of grief.
+
+One individual, however, was daily pining away before my eyes—my
+faithful Bendel, who was the victim of silent self-reproach, tormenting
+himself with the idea that he had betrayed the confidence reposed in
+him by a good master, in failing to recognize the individual in quest
+of whom he had been sent, and with whom he had been led to believe that
+my melancholy fate was closely connected. Still, I had nothing to
+accuse him with, as I recognized in the occurrence the mysterious
+character of the unknown.
+
+In order to leave no means untried, I one day despatched Bendel with a
+costly ring to the most celebrated artist in the town, desiring him to
+wait upon me. He came; and, dismissing the attendants, I secured the
+door, placing myself opposite to him, and, after extolling his art,
+with a heavy heart came to the point, first enjoining the strictest
+secrecy.
+
+“For a person,” said I, “who most unfortunately has lost his shadow,
+could you paint a false one?”
+
+“Do you speak of the natural shadow?”
+
+“Precisely so.”
+
+“But,” he asked, “by what awkward negligence can a man have lost his
+shadow?”
+
+“How it occurred,” I answered, “is of no consequence; but it was in
+this manner”—(and here I uttered an unblushing falsehood)—“he was
+travelling in Russia last winter, and one bitterly cold day it froze so
+intensely, that his shadow remained so fixed to the ground, that it was
+found impossible to remove it.”
+
+“The false shadow that I might paint,” said the artist, “would be
+liable to be lost on the slightest movement, particularly in a person
+who, from your account, cares so little about his shadow. A person
+without a shadow should keep out of the sun, that is the only safe and
+rational plan.”
+
+He arose and took his leave, casting so penetrating a look at me that I
+shrank from it. I sank back in my chair, and hid my face in my hands.
+
+In this attitude Bendel found me, and was about to withdraw silently
+and respectfully on seeing me in such a state of grief: looking up,
+overwhelmed with my sorrows, I felt that I must communicate them to
+him. “Bendel,” I exclaimed, “Bendel, thou the only being who seest and
+respectest my grief too much to inquire into its cause—thou who seemest
+silently and sincerely to sympathize with me—come and share my
+confidence. The extent of my wealth I have not withheld from thee,
+neither will I conceal from thee the extent of my grief. Bendel!
+forsake me not. Bendel, you see me rich, free, beneficent; you fancy
+all the world in my power; yet you must have observed that I shun it,
+and avoid all human intercourse. You think, Bendel, that the world and
+I are at variance; and you yourself, perhaps, will abandon me, when I
+acquaint you with this fearful secret. Bendel, I am rich, free,
+generous; but, O God, I have NO SHADOW!
+
+“No shadow!” exclaimed the faithful young man, tears starting from his
+eyes. “Alas! that I am born to serve a master without a shadow!” He was
+silent, and again I hid my face in my hands.
+
+“Bendel,” at last I tremblingly resumed, “you have now my confidence;
+you may betray me—go—bear witness against me!”
+
+He seemed to be agitated with conflicting feelings; at last he threw
+himself at my feet and seized my hand, which he bathed with his tears.
+
+“No,” he exclaimed; “whatever the world may say, I neither can nor will
+forsake my excellent master because he has lost his shadow. I will
+rather do what is right than what may seem prudent. I will remain with
+you—I will shade you with my own shadow—I will assist you when I
+can—and when I cannot, I will weep with you.”
+
+I fell upon his neck, astonished at sentiments so unusual; for it was
+very evident that he was not prompted by the love of money.
+
+My mode of life and my fate now became somewhat different. It is
+incredible with what provident foresight Bendel contrived to conceal my
+deficiency. Everywhere he was before me, and with me, providing against
+every contingency, and in cases of unlooked-for danger, flying to
+shield me with his own shadow, for he was taller and stouter than
+myself. Thus I once more ventured among mankind, and began to take a
+part in worldly affairs. I was compelled, indeed, to affect certain
+peculiarities and whims; but in a rich man they seem only appropriate;
+and so long as the truth was kept concealed I enjoyed all the honor and
+respect which gold could procure.
+
+I now looked forward with more composure to the promised visit of the
+mysterious unknown at the expiration of the year and a day.
+
+I was very sensible that I could not venture to remain long in a place
+where I had once been seen without a shadow, and where I might easily
+be betrayed; and perhaps, too, I recollected my first introduction to
+Mr. John, and this was by no means a pleasing reminiscence. However, I
+wished just to make a trial here, that I might with greater ease and
+security visit some other place. But my vanity for some time withheld
+me, for it is in this quality of our race that the anchor takes the
+firmest hold.
+
+Even the lovely Fanny, whom I again met in several places, without her
+seeming to recollect that she had ever seen me before, bestowed some
+notice on me; for wit and understanding were mine in abundance now.
+When I spoke, I was listened to; and I was at a loss to know how I had
+so easily acquired the art of commanding attention, and giving the tone
+to the conversation.
+
+The impression which I perceived I had made upon this fair one
+completely turned my brain; and this was just what she wished. After
+that, I pursued her with infinite pains through every obstacle. My
+vanity was only intent on exciting hers to make a conquest of me; but
+although the intoxication disturbed my head, it failed to make the
+least impression on my heart.
+
+But why detail to you the oft-repeated story which I have so often
+heard from yourself?
+
+However, in the old and well-known drama in which I played so worn-out
+a part, a catastrophe occurred of quite a peculiar nature, in a manner
+equally unexpected to her, to me, and to everybody.
+
+One beautiful evening I had, according to my usual custom, assembled a
+party in a garden, and was walking arm-in-arm with Fanny at a little
+distance from the rest of the company, and pouring into her ear the
+usual well-turned phrases, while she was demurely gazing on vacancy,
+and now and then gently returning the pressure of my hand. The moon
+suddenly emerged from behind a cloud at our back. Fanny perceived only
+her own shadow before us. She started, looked at me with terror, and
+then again on the ground, in search of my shadow. All that was passing
+in her mind was so strangely depicted in her countenance, that I should
+have burst into a loud fit of laughter had I not suddenly felt my blood
+run cold within me. I suffered her to fall from my arm in a
+fainting-fit; shot with the rapidity of an arrow through the astonished
+guests, reached the gate, threw myself into the first conveyance I met
+with, and returned to the town, where this time, unfortunately, I had
+left the wary Bendel. He was alarmed on seeing me: one word explained
+all. Post-horses were immediately procured. I took with me none of my
+servants, one cunning knave only excepted, called Rascal, who had by
+his adroitness become very serviceable to me, and who at present knew
+nothing of what had occurred. I travelled thirty leagues that night;
+having left Bendel behind to discharge my servants, pay my debts, and
+bring me all that was necessary.
+
+When he came up with me next day, I threw myself into his arms, vowing
+to avoid such follies and to be more careful for the future.
+
+We pursued our journey uninterruptedly over the frontiers and
+mountains; and it was not until I had placed this lofty barrier between
+myself and the before-mentioned unlucky town that I was persuaded to
+recruit myself after my fatigues in a neighboring and little-frequented
+watering-place.
+
+I must now pass rapidly over one period of my history, on which how
+gladly would I dwell, could I conjure up your lively powers of
+delineation! But the vivid hues which are at your command, and which
+alone can give life and animation to the picture, have left no trace
+within me; and were I now to endeavor to recall the joys, the griefs,
+the pure and enchanting emotions, which once held such powerful
+dominion in my breast, it would be like striking a rock which yields no
+longer the living spring, and whose spirit has fled for ever. With what
+an altered aspect do those bygone days now present themselves to my
+gaze!
+
+In this watering-place I acted an heroic character, badly studied; and
+being a novice on such a stage, I forgot my part before a pair of
+lovely blue eyes.
+
+All possible means were used by the infatuated parents to conclude the
+bargain; and deception put an end to these usual artifices. And that is
+all—all.
+
+The powerful emotions which once swelled my bosom seem now in the
+retrospect to be poor and insipid, nay, even terrible to me.
+
+Alas, Minna! as I wept for thee the day I lost thee, so do I now weep
+that I can no longer retrace thine image in my soul.
+
+Am I, then, so far advanced into the vale of years? O fatal effects of
+maturity! would that I could feel one throb, one emotion of former days
+of enchantment—alas, not one! a solitary being, tossed on the wild
+ocean of life—it is long since I drained thine enchanted cup to the
+dregs!
+
+But to return to my narrative. I had sent Bendel to the little town
+with plenty of money to procure me a suitable habitation. He spent my
+gold profusely; and as he expressed himself rather reservedly
+concerning his distinguished master (for I did not wish to be named),
+the good people began to form rather extraordinary conjectures.
+
+As soon as my house was ready for my reception, Bendel returned to
+conduct me to it. We set out on our journey. About a league from the
+town, on a sunny plain, we were stopped by a crowd of people, arrayed
+in holiday attire for some festival. The carriage stopped. Music,
+bells, cannons, were heard; and loud acclamations rang through the air.
+
+Before the carriage now appeared in white dresses a chorus of maidens,
+all of extraordinary beauty; but one of them shone in resplendent
+loveliness, and eclipsed the rest as the sun eclipses the stars of
+night. She advanced from the midst of her companions, and, with a lofty
+yet winning air, blushingly knelt before me, presenting on a silken
+cushion a wreath, composed of laurel branches, the olive, and the rose,
+saying something respecting majesty, love, honor, etc., which I could
+not comprehend; but the sweet and silvery magic of her tones
+intoxicated my senses and my whole soul: it seemed as if some heavenly
+apparition were hovering over me. The chorus now began to sing the
+praises of a good sovereign and the happiness of his subjects. All
+this, dear Chamisso, took place in the sun: she was kneeling two steps
+from me, and I, without a shadow, could not dart through the air, nor
+fall on my knees before the angelic being. Oh, what would I not now
+have given for a shadow! To conceal my shame, agony, and despair, I
+buried myself in the recesses of the carriage. Bendel at last thought
+of an expedient; he jumped out of the carriage. I called him back, and
+gave him out of the casket I had by me a rich diamond coronet, which
+had been intended for the lovely Fanny.
+
+He stepped forward, and spoke in the name of his master, who, he said,
+was overwhelmed by so many demonstrations of respect, which he really
+could not accept as an honor—there must be some error; nevertheless he
+begged to express his thanks for the goodwill of the worthy
+townspeople. In the meantime Bendel had taken the wreath from the
+cushion, and laid the brilliant crown in its place. He then
+respectfully raised the lovely girl from the ground; and, at one sign,
+the clergy, magistrates, and all the deputations withdrew. The crowd
+separated to allow the horses to pass, and we pursued our way to the
+town at full gallop, through arches ornamented with flowers and
+branches of laurel. Salvos of artillery again were heard. The carriage
+stopped at my gate; I hastened through the crowd which curiosity had
+attracted to witness my arrival. Enthusiastic shouts resounded under my
+windows, from whence I showered gold amidst the people; and in the
+evening the whole town was illuminated. Still all remained a mystery to
+me, and I could not imagine for whom I had been taken. I sent Rascal
+out to make inquiry; and he soon obtained intelligence that the good
+King of Prussia was travelling through the country under the name of
+some count; that my aide-de-camp had been recognized, and that he had
+divulged the secret; that on acquiring the certainty that I would enter
+their town, their joy had known no bounds: however, as they perceived I
+was determined on preserving the strictest incognito, they felt how
+wrong they had been in too importunately seeking to withdraw the veil;
+but I had received them so condescendingly and so graciously, that they
+were sure I would forgive them. The whole affair was such capital
+amusement to the unprincipled Rascal, that he did his best to confirm
+the good people in their belief, while affecting to reprove them. He
+gave me a very comical account of the matter; and, seeing that I was
+amused by it, actually endeavored to make a merit of his impudence.
+
+Shall I own the truth? My vanity was flattered by having been mistaken
+for our revered sovereign. I ordered a banquet to be got ready for the
+following evening, under the trees before my house, and invited the
+whole town. The mysterious power of my purse, Bendel’s exertions, and
+Rascal’s ready invention made the shortness of the time seem as
+nothing.
+
+It was really astonishing how magnificently and beautifully everything
+was arranged in these few hours. Splendor and abundance vied with each
+other, and the lights were so carefully arranged that I felt quite
+safe: the zeal of my servants met every exigency and merited all
+praise.
+
+Evening drew on, the guests arrived, and were presented to me. The word
+MAJESTY was now dropped; but, with the deepest respect and humility, I
+was addressed as the COUNT. What could I do? I accepted the title, and
+from that moment I was known as Count Peter. In the midst of all this
+festivity my soul pined for one individual. She came late—she who was
+the empress of the scene, and wore the emblem of sovereignty on her
+brow.
+
+She modestly accompanied her parents, and seemed unconscious of her
+transcendent beauty.
+
+The Ranger of the Forests, his wife, and daughter were presented to me.
+I was at no loss to make myself agreeable to the parents; but before
+the daughter I stood like a well-scolded schoolboy, incapable of
+speaking a single word.
+
+At length I hesitatingly entreated her to honor my banquet by presiding
+at it—an office for which her rare endowments pointed her out as
+admirably fitted. With a blush and an expressive glance she entreated
+to be excused; but, in still greater confusion than herself, I
+respectfully begged her to accept the homage of the first and most
+devoted of her subjects, and one glance of the count was the same as a
+command to the guests, who all vied with each other in acting up to the
+spirit of the noble host.
+
+In her person, majesty, innocence, and grace, in union with beauty,
+presided over this joyous banquet. Minna’s happy parents were elated by
+the honors conferred upon their child. As for me, I abandoned myself to
+all the intoxication of delight: I sent for all the jewels, pearls, and
+precious stones still left to me—the produce of my fatal wealth—and,
+filling two vases, I placed them on the table, in the name of the queen
+of the banquet, to be divided among her companions and the remainder of
+the ladies.
+
+I ordered gold, in the meantime, to be showered down without ceasing
+among the happy multitude.
+
+Next morning Bendel told me in confidence that the suspicions he had
+long entertained of Rascal’s honesty were now reduced to a certainty;
+he had yesterday embezzled many bags of gold.
+
+“Never mind,” said I; “let him enjoy his paltry booty. _I_ like to
+spend it; why should not he? Yesterday he, and all the newly-engaged
+servants whom you had hired, served me honorably, and cheerfully
+assisted me to enjoy the banquet.”
+
+No more was said on the subject. Rascal remained at the head of my
+domestics. Bendel was my friend and confidant; he had by this time
+become accustomed to look upon my wealth as inexhaustible, without
+seeking to inquire into its source. He entered into all my schemes, and
+effectually assisted me in devising methods of spending my money.
+
+Of the pale, sneaking scoundrel—the unknown—Bendel only knew thus much,
+that he alone had power to release me from the curse which weighed so
+heavily on me, and yet that I stood in awe of him on whom all my hopes
+rested. Besides, I felt convinced that he had the means of discovering
+ME under any circumstances, while he himself remained concealed. I
+therefore abandoned my fruitless inquiries, and patiently awaited the
+appointed day.
+
+The magnificence of my banquet, and my deportment on the occasion, had
+but strengthened the credulous townspeople in their previous belief.
+
+It appeared soon after, from accounts in the newspapers, that the whole
+history of the King of Prussia’s fictitious journey originated in mere
+idle report. But a king I was, and a king I must remain by all means;
+and one of the richest and most royal, although people were at a loss
+to know where my territories lay.
+
+The world has never had reason to lament the scarcity of monarchs,
+particularly in these days; and the good people, who had never yet seen
+a king, now fancied me to be first one, and then another, with equal
+success; and in the meanwhile I remained as before, Count Peter.
+
+Among the visitors at this watering-place a merchant made his
+appearance, one who had become a bankrupt in order to enrich himself.
+He enjoyed the general good opinion; for he projected a shadow of
+respectable size, though of somewhat faint hue.
+
+This man wished to show off in this place by means of his wealth, and
+sought to rival me. My purse soon enabled me to leave the poor devil
+far behind. To save his credit he became bankrupt again, and fled
+beyond the mountains; and thus I was rid of him. Many a one in this
+place was reduced to beggary and ruin through my means.
+
+In the midst of the really princely magnificence and profusion, which
+carried all before me, my own style of living was very simple and
+retired. I had made it a point to observe the strictest precaution;
+and, with the exception of Bendel, no one was permitted, on any
+pretence whatever, to enter my private apartment. As long as the sun
+shone I remained shut up with him; and the Count was then said to be
+deeply occupied in his closet. The numerous couriers, whom I kept in
+constant attendance about matters of no importance, were supposed to be
+the bearers of my despatches. I only received company in the evening
+under the trees of my garden, or in my saloons, after Bendel’s
+assurance of their being carefully and brilliantly lit up.
+
+My walks, in which the Argus-eyed Bendel was constantly on the watch
+for me, extended only to the garden of the forest-ranger, to enjoy the
+society of one who was dear to me as my own existence.
+
+Oh, my Chamisso! I trust thou hast not forgotten what love is! I must
+here leave much to thine imagination. Minna was in truth an amiable and
+excellent maiden: her whole soul was wrapped up in me, and in her lowly
+thoughts of herself she could not imagine how she had deserved a single
+thought from me. She returned love for love with all the full and
+youthful fervor of an innocent heart; her love was a true woman’s love,
+with all the devotion and total absence of selfishness which is found
+only in woman; she lived but in me, her whole soul being bound up in
+mine, regardless what her own fate might be.
+
+Yet I, alas, during those hours of wretchedness—hours I would even now
+gladly recall—how often have I wept on Bendel’s bosom, when after the
+first mad whirlwind of passion I reflected, with the keenest
+self-upbraidings, that I, a shadowless man, had, with cruel
+selfishness, practised a wicked deception, and stolen away the pure and
+angelic heart of the innocent Minna!
+
+At one moment I resolved to confess all to her; then that I would fly
+for ever; then I broke out into a flood of bitter tears, and consulted
+Bendel as to the means of meeting her again in the forester’s garden.
+
+At times I flattered myself with great hopes from the near approaching
+visit of the unknown; then wept again, because I saw clearly on
+reflection that they would end in disappointment. I had made a
+calculation of the day fixed on by the fearful being for our interview;
+for he had said in a year and a day, and I depended on his word.
+
+The parents were worthy old people, devoted to their only child; and
+our mutual affection was a circumstance so overwhelming that they knew
+not how to act. They had never dreamed for a moment that the COUNT
+could bestow a thought on their daughter; but such was the case—he
+loved and was beloved. The pride of the mother might not have led her
+to consider such an alliance quite impossible, but so extravagant an
+idea had never entered the contemplation of the sounder judgment of the
+old man. Both were satisfied of the sincerity of my love, and could but
+put up prayers to Heaven for the happiness of their child.
+
+A letter which I received from Minna about that time has just fallen
+into my hands. Yes, these are the characters traced by her own hand. I
+will transcribe the letter:
+
+“I am indeed a weak, foolish girl to fancy that the friend I so
+tenderly love could give an instant’s pain to his poor Minna! Oh no!
+thou art so good, so inexpressibly good! But do not misunderstand me. I
+will accept no sacrifice at thy hands—none whatever. Oh heavens! I
+should hate myself! No; thou hast made me happy, thou hast taught me to
+love thee.
+
+“Go, then—let me not forget my destiny—Count Peter belongs not to me,
+but to the whole world; and oh! what pride for thy Minna to hear thy
+deeds proclaimed, and blessings invoked on thy idolized head! Ah! when
+I think of this, I could chide thee that thou shouldst for one instant
+forget thy high destiny for the sake of a simple maiden! Go, then;
+otherwise the reflection will pierce me. How blest I have been rendered
+by thy love! Perhaps, also, I have planted some flowers in the path of
+thy life, as I twined them in the wreath which I presented to thee.
+
+“Go, then—fear not to leave me—you are too deeply seated in my heart—I
+shall die inexpressibly happy in thy love.”
+
+Conceive how these words pierced my soul, Chamisso!
+
+I declared to her that I was not what I seemed—that, although a rich, I
+was an unspeakably miserable man—that a curse was on me, which must
+remain a secret, although the only one between us—yet that I was not
+without a hope of its being removed—that this poisoned every hour of my
+life—that I should plunge her with me into the abyss—she, the light and
+joy, the very soul of my existence. Then she wept because I was
+unhappy. Oh! Minna was all love and tenderness. To save me one tear she
+would gladly have sacrificed her life. Yet she was far from
+comprehending the full meaning of my words. She still looked upon me as
+some proscribed prince or illustrious exile; and her vivid imagination
+had invested her lover with every lofty attribute.
+
+One day I said to her, “Minna, the last day in next month will decide
+my fate, and perhaps change it for the better; if not, I would sooner
+die than render you miserable.”
+
+She laid her head on my shoulder to conceal her tears. “Should thy fate
+be changed,” she said, “I only wish to know that thou art happy; if thy
+condition is an unhappy one, I will share it with thee, and assist thee
+to support it.”
+
+“Minna, Minna!” I exclaimed, “recall those rash words—those mad words
+which have escaped thy lips! Didst thou know the misery and curse—didst
+thou know who—what—thy lover … Seest thou not, my Minna, this
+convulsive shuddering which thrills my whole frame, and that there is a
+secret in my breast which you cannot penetrate?” She sank sobbing at my
+feet, and renewed her vows and entreaties.
+
+Her father now entered, and I declared to him my intention to solicit
+the hand of his daughter on the first day of the month after the
+ensuing one. I fixed that time, I told him, because circumstances might
+probably occur in the interval materially to influence my future
+destiny; but my love for his daughter was unchangeable.
+
+The good old man started at hearing such words from the mouth of Count
+Peter. He fell upon my neck, and rose again in the utmost confusion for
+having forgotten himself. Then he began to doubt, to ponder, and to
+scrutinize; and spoke of dowry, security, and future provision for his
+beloved child. I thanked him for having reminded me of all this, and
+told him it was my wish to remain in a country where I seemed to be
+beloved, and to lead a life free from anxiety. I then commissioned him
+to purchase the finest estate in the neighborhood in the name of his
+daughter—for a father was the best person to act for his daughter in
+such a case—and to refer for payment to me. This occasioned him a good
+deal of trouble, as a stranger had everywhere anticipated him; but at
+last he made a purchase for about L150,000.
+
+I confess this was but an innocent artifice to get rid of him, as I had
+frequently done before; for it must be confessed that he was somewhat
+tedious. The good mother was rather deaf, and not jealous, like her
+husband, of the honor of conversing with the Count.
+
+The happy party pressed me to remain with them longer this evening. I
+dared not—I had not a moment to lose. I saw the rising moon streaking
+the horizon—my hour was come.
+
+Next evening I went again to the forester’s garden. I had wrapped
+myself closely up in my cloak, slouched my hat over my eyes, and
+advanced towards Minna. As she raised her head and looked at me, she
+started involuntarily. The apparition of that dreadful night in which I
+had been seen without a shadow was now standing distinctly before me—it
+was she herself. Had she recognized me? She was silent and thoughtful.
+I felt an oppressive load at my heart. I rose from my seat. She laid
+her head on my shoulder, still silent and in tears. I went away.
+
+I now found her frequently weeping. I became more and more melancholy.
+Her parents were beyond expression happy. The eventful day approached,
+threatening and heavy, like a thunder-cloud. The evening preceding
+arrived. I could scarcely breathe. I had carefully filled a large chest
+with gold, and sat down to await the appointed time—the twelfth hour—it
+struck.
+
+Now I remained with my eyes fixed on the hand of the clock, counting
+the seconds—the minutes—which struck me to the heart like daggers. I
+started at every sound—at last daylight appeared. The leaden hours
+passed on—morning—evening—night came. Hope was fast fading away as the
+hand advanced. It struck eleven—no one appeared—the last minutes—the
+first and last stroke of the twelfth hour died away. I sank back in my
+bed in an agony of weeping. In the morning I should, shadowless as I
+was, claim the hand of my beloved Minna. A heavy sleep towards daylight
+closed my eyes.
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+It was yet early, when I was suddenly awoke by voices in hot dispute in
+my ante-chamber. I listened. Bendel was forbidding Rascal to enter my
+room, who swore he would receive no orders from his equals, and
+insisted on forcing his way. The faithful Bendel reminded him that if
+such words reached his master’s ears, he would turn him out of an
+excellent place. Rascal threatened to strike him if he persisted in
+refusing his entrance.
+
+By this time, having half-dressed myself, I angrily threw open the
+door, and addressing myself to Rascal, inquired what he meant by such
+disgraceful conduct. He drew back a couple of steps, and coolly
+answered: “Count Peter, may I beg most respectfully that you will favor
+me with a sight of your shadow? The sun is now shining brightly in the
+court below.”
+
+I stood as if struck by a thunderbolt, and for some time was unable to
+speak. At last I asked him how a servant could dare to behave so
+towards his master. He interrupted me by saying, quite coolly, “A
+servant may be a very honorable man, and unwilling to serve a
+shadowless master—I request my dismissal.”
+
+I felt that I must adopt a softer tone, and replied, “But, Rascal, my
+good fellow, who can have put such strange ideas into your head? How
+can you imagine—”
+
+He again interrupted me in the same tone—
+
+“People say you have no shadow. In short, let me see your shadow, or
+give me my dismissal.”
+
+Bendel, pale and trembling, but more collected than myself, made a sign
+to me. I had recourse to the all-powerful influence of gold. But even
+gold had lost its power—Rascal threw it at my feet: “From a shadowless
+man,” he said, “I will take nothing.”
+
+Turning his back upon me, and putting on his hat, he then slowly left
+the room, whistling a tune. I stood, with Bendel, as if petrified,
+gazing after him.
+
+With a deep sigh and a heavy heart I now prepared to keep my
+engagement, and to appear in the forester’s garden like a criminal
+before his judge. I entered by the shady arbor, which had received the
+name of Count Peter’s arbor, where we had appointed to meet. The mother
+advanced with a cheerful air; Minna sat fair and beautiful as the early
+snow of autumn reposing on the departing flowers, soon to be dissolved
+and lost in the cold stream.
+
+The ranger, with a written paper in his hand, was walking up and down
+in an agitated manner, struggling to suppress his feelings—his usually
+unmoved countenance being one moment flushed and the next perfectly
+pale. He came forward as I entered, and, in a faltering voice,
+requested a private conversation with me. The path by which he
+requested me to follow him led to an open spot in the garden, where the
+sun was shining. I sat down. A long silence ensued, which even the good
+woman herself did not venture to break. The ranger, in an agitated
+manner, paced up and down with unequal steps. At last he stood still;
+and glancing over the paper he held in his hand, he said, addressing me
+with a penetrating look, “Count Peter, do you know one Peter
+Schlemihl?” I was silent.
+
+“A man,” he continued, “of excellent character and extraordinary
+endowments.”
+
+He paused for an answer. “And supposing I myself were that very man?”
+
+“You!” he exclaimed passionately; “he has lost his shadow!”
+
+“Oh, my suspicion is true!” cried Minna; “I have long known it—he has
+no shadow!” And she threw herself into her mother’s arms, who,
+convulsively clasping her to her bosom, reproached her for having so
+long, to her hurt, kept such a secret. But, like the fabled Arethusa,
+her tears, as from a fountain, flowed more abundantly, and her sobs
+increased at my approach.
+
+“And so,” said the ranger fiercely, “you have not scrupled, with
+unparalleled shamelessness, to deceive both her and me; and you
+pretended to love her, forsooth!—her whom you have reduced to the state
+in which you now see her. See how she weeps!—Oh, shocking, shocking!”
+
+By this time I had lost all presence of mind; and I answered,
+confusedly: “After all, it is but a shadow, a mere shadow, which a man
+can do very well without; and really it is not worth the while to make
+all this noise about such a trifle.” Feeling the groundlessness of what
+I was saying, I ceased, and no one condescended to reply. At last I
+added: “What is lost to-day may be found to-morrow.”
+
+“Be pleased, sir,” continued the ranger, in great wrath—“be pleased to
+explain how you have lost your shadow.”
+
+Here again an excuse was ready: “A boor of a fellow,” said I, “one day
+trod so rudely on my shadow that he tore a large hole in it. I sent it
+to be repaired—for gold can do wonders—and yesterday I expected it home
+again.”
+
+“Very well,” answered the ranger. “You are a suitor my daughter’s hand,
+and so are others. As a father, I am bound to provide for her. I will
+give you three days to seek your shadow. Return to me in the course of
+that time with a well-fitted shadow, and you shall receive a hearty
+welcome; otherwise, on the fourth day—remember, on the fourth day—my
+daughter becomes the wife of another.”
+
+I now attempted to say one word to Minna; but, sobbing more violently,
+she clung still closer to her mother, who made a sign for me to
+withdraw. I obeyed; and now the world seemed shut out from me for ever.
+
+Having escaped from the affectionate care of Bendel, I now wandered
+wildly through the neighboring woods and meadows. Drops of anguish fell
+from my brow, deep groans burst from my bosom—frenzied despair raged
+within me.
+
+I knew not how long this had lasted, when I felt myself seized by the
+sleeve on a sunny heath. I stopped, and looking up, beheld the
+gray-coated man, who appeared to have run himself out of breath in
+pursuing me. He immediately began: “I had,” said he, “appointed this
+day; but your impatience anticipated it. All, however, may yet be
+right. Take my advice—redeem your shadow, which is at your command, and
+return immediately to the ranger’s garden, where you will be well
+received, and all the past will seem a mere joke. As for Rascal—who has
+betrayed you in order to pay his addresses to Minna—leave him to me; he
+is just a fit subject for me.”
+
+I stood like one in a dream. “This day?” I considered again. He was
+right—I had made a mistake of a day. I felt in my bosom for the purse.
+He perceived my intention, and drew back.
+
+“No, Count Peter; the purse is in good hands—pray keep it.” I gazed at
+him with looks of astonishment and inquiry. “I only beg a trifle as a
+token of remembrance. Be so good as to sign this memorandum.” On the
+parchment, which he held out to me, were these words: “By virtue of
+this present, to which I have appended my signature, I hereby bequeath
+my soul to the holder, after its natural separation from my body.”
+
+I gazed in mute astonishment alternately at the paper and the gray
+unknown. In the meantime he had dipped a new pen in a drop of blood
+which was issuing from a scratch in my hand just made by a thorn. He
+presented it to me. “Who are you?” at last I exclaimed. “What can it
+signify?” he answered: “do you not perceive who I am? A poor devil—a
+sort of scholar and philosopher, who obtains but poor thanks from his
+friends for his admirable arts, and whose only amusement on earth
+consists in his small experiments. But just sign this; to the right,
+exactly underneath—Peter Schlemihl.”
+
+I shook my head, and replied: “Excuse me, sir; I cannot sign that.”
+
+“Cannot!” he exclaimed; “and why not?”
+
+“Because it appears to me a hazardous thing to exchange my soul for my
+shadow.”
+
+“Hazardous!” he exclaimed, bursting into a loud laugh. “And, pray, may
+I be allowed to inquire what sort of a thing your soul is?—have you
+ever seen it?—and what do you mean to do with it after your death? You
+ought to think yourself fortunate in meeting with a customer who,
+during your life, in exchange for this infinitely minute quantity, this
+galvanic principle, this polarized agency, or whatever other foolish
+name you may give it, is willing to bestow on you something
+substantial—in a word, your own identical shadow, by virtue of which
+you will obtain your beloved Minna, and arrive at the accomplishment of
+all your wishes; or do you prefer giving up the poor young girl to the
+power of that contemptible scoundrel Rascal? Nay, you shall behold her
+with your own eyes. Come here; I will lend you an invisible cap (he
+drew something out of his pocket), and we will enter the ranger’s
+garden unseen.”
+
+I must confess that I felt excessively ashamed to be thus laughed at by
+the gray stranger. I detested him from the very bottom of my soul; and
+I really believe this personal antipathy, more than principle or
+previously formed opinion, restrained me from purchasing my shadow,
+much as I stood in need of it, at such an expense. Besides, the thought
+was insupportable of making this proposed visit in his society. To
+behold this hateful sneak, this mocking fiend, place himself between me
+and my beloved, between our torn and bleeding hearts, was too revolting
+an idea to be entertained for a moment. I considered the past as
+irrevocable, my own misery as inevitable; and turning to the gray man,
+I said: “I have exchanged my shadow for this very extraordinary purse,
+and I have sufficiently repented it. For Heaven’s sake, let the
+transaction be declared null and void!” He shook his head, and his
+countenance assumed an expression of the most sinister cast. I
+continued: “I will make no exchange whatever, even for the sake of my
+shadow, nor will I sign the paper. It follows, also, that the incognito
+visit you propose to me would afford you far more entertainment than it
+could possibly give me. Accept my excuses, therefore; and, since it
+must be so, let us part.”
+
+“I am sorry, Mr. Schlemihl, that you thus obstinately persist in
+rejecting my friendly offer. Perhaps, another time, I may be more
+fortunate. Farewell! May we shortly meet again! But, _à propos_, allow
+me to show you that I do not undervalue my purchase, but preserve it
+carefully.”
+
+So saying, he drew my shadow out of his pocket; and shaking it cleverly
+out of its folds, he stretched it out at his feet in the sun—so that he
+stood between two obedient shadows, his own and mine, which was
+compelled to follow and comply with his every movement. On again
+beholding my poor shadow after so long a separation, and seeing it
+degraded to so vile a bondage at the very time that I was so
+unspeakably in want of it, my heart was ready to burst, and I wept
+bitterly. The detested wretch stood exulting over his prey, and
+unblushingly renewed his proposal. “One stroke of your pen, and the
+unhappy Minna is rescued from the clutches of the villain Rascal, and
+transferred to the arms of the high-born Count Peter—merely a stroke of
+your pen!”
+
+My tears broke out with renewed violence; but I turned away from him,
+and made a sign for him to be gone.
+
+Bendel, whose deep solicitude had induced him to come in search of me,
+arrived at this very moment. The good and faithful creature, on seeing
+me weeping, and that a shadow (evidently mine) was in the power of the
+mysterious unknown, determined to rescue it by force, should that be
+necessary; and disdaining to use any finesse, he desired him directly,
+and without any disputing, to restore my property. Instead of a reply,
+the gray man turned his back on the worthy fellow, and was making off.
+But Bendel raised his buck-thorn stick; and following close upon him,
+after repeated commands, but in vain, to restore the shadow, he made
+him feel the whole force of his powerful arm. The gray man, as if
+accustomed to such treatment, held down his head, slouched his
+shoulders, and, with soft and noiseless steps, pursued his way over the
+heath, carrying with him my shadow, and also my faithful servant. For a
+long time I heard hollow sounds ringing through the waste, until at
+last they died away in the distance, and I was again left to solitude
+and misery.
+
+Alone on the wild heath, I disburdened my heart of an insupportable
+load by given free vent to my tears. But I saw no bounds, no relief, to
+my surpassing wretchedness; and I drank in the fresh poison which the
+mysterious stranger had poured into my wounds with a furious avidity.
+As I retraced in my mind the loved image of my Minna, and depicted her
+sweet countenance all pale and in tears, such as I had beheld her in my
+late disgrace, the bold and sarcastic visage of Rascal would ever and
+anon thrust itself between us. I hid my face, and fled rapidly over the
+plains; but the horrible vision unrelentingly pursued me, till at last
+I sank breathless on the ground, and bedewed it with a fresh torrent of
+tears—and all this for a shadow!—a shadow which one stroke of the pen
+would repurchase. I pondered on the singular proposal, and on my
+hesitation to comply with it. My mind was confused—I had lost the power
+of judging or comprehending. The day was waning apace. I satisfied the
+cravings of hunger with a few wild fruits, and quenched my thirst at a
+neighboring stream. Night came on; I threw myself down under a tree,
+and was awoke by the damp morning air from an uneasy sleep, in which I
+had fancied myself struggling in the agonies of death. Bendel had
+certainly lost all trace of me, and I was glad of it. I did not wish to
+return among my fellow-creatures—I shunned them as the hunted deer
+flies before its pursuers. Thus I passed three melancholy days.
+
+I found myself on the morning of the fourth on a sandy plain, basking
+in the rays of the sun, and sitting on a fragment of rock; for it was
+sweet to enjoy the genial warmth of which I had so long been deprived.
+Despair still preyed on my heart. Suddenly a slight sound startled me;
+I looked round, prepared to fly, but saw no one. On the sunlit sand
+before me flitted the shadow of a man not unlike my own; and wandering
+about alone, it seemed to have lost its master. This sight powerfully
+excited me. “Shadow!” thought I, “art thou in search of thy master? in
+me thou shall find him.” And I sprang forward to seize it, fancying
+that could I succeed in treading so exactly in its traces as to step in
+its footmarks, it would attach itself to me, and in time become
+accustomed to me, and follow all my movements.
+
+The shadow, as I moved, took to flight, and I commenced a hot chase
+after the airy fugitive, solely excited by the hope of being delivered
+from my present dreadful situation; the bare idea inspired me with
+fresh strength and vigor.
+
+The shadow now fled towards a distant wood, among whose shades I must
+necessarily have lost it. Seeing this, my heart beat wild with fright,
+my ardor increased and lent wings to my speed. I was evidently gaining
+on the shadow—I came nearer and nearer—I was within reach of it, when
+it suddenly stopped and turned towards me. Like a lion darting on its
+prey, I made a powerful spring and fell unexpectedly upon a hard
+substance. Then followed, from an invisible hand, the most terrible
+blows in the ribs that anyone ever received. The effect of my terror
+made me endeavor convulsively to strike and grasp at the unseen object
+before me. The rapidity of my motions brought me to the ground, where I
+lay stretched out with a man under me, whom I held tight, and who now
+became visible.
+
+The whole affair was now explained. The man had undoubtedly possessed
+the bird’s nest which communicates its charm of invisibility to its
+possessor, though not equally so to his shadow; and this nest he had
+now thrown away. I looked all round, and soon discovered the shadow of
+this invisible nest. I sprang towards it, and was fortunate enough to
+seize the precious booty, and immediately became invisible and
+shadowless.
+
+The moment the man regained his feet he looked all round over the wide
+sunny plain to discover his fortunate vanquisher, but could see neither
+him nor his shadow, the latter seeming particularly to be the object of
+his search: for previous to our encounter he had not had leisure to
+observe that I was shadowless, and he could not be aware of it.
+Becoming convinced that all traces of me were lost, he began to tear
+his hair, and give himself up to all the frenzy of despair. In the
+meantime, this newly acquired treasure communicated to me both the
+ability and the desire to mix again among mankind.
+
+I was at no loss for a pretext to vindicate this unjust robbery—or,
+rather, so deadened had I become, I felt no need of a pretext; and in
+order to dissipate every idea of the kind, I hastened on, regardless of
+the unhappy man, whose fearful lamentations long resounded in my ears.
+Such, at the time, were my impressions of all the circumstances of this
+affair.
+
+I now ardently desired to return to the ranger’s garden, in order to
+ascertain in person the truth of the information communicated by the
+odious unknown; but I knew not where I was, until, ascending an
+eminence to take a survey of the surrounding country, I perceived, from
+its summit, the little town and the gardens almost at my feet. My heart
+beat violently, and tears of a nature very different from those I had
+lately shed filled my eyes. I should, then, once more behold her!
+
+Anxiety now hastened my steps. Unseen, I met some peasants coming from
+the town; they were talking of me, of Rascal, and of the ranger. I
+would not stay to listen to their conversation, but proceeded on. My
+bosom thrilled with expectation as I entered the garden. At this moment
+I heard something like a hollow laugh which caused me involuntarily to
+shudder. I cast a rapid glance around, but could see no one. I passed
+on; presently I fancied I heard the sound of footsteps close to me, but
+no one was within sight. My ears must have deceived me.
+
+It was early; no one was in Count Peter’s bower—the gardens were
+deserted. I traversed all the well-known paths, and penetrated even to
+the dwelling-house itself. The same rustling sound became now more and
+more audible. With anguished feelings I sat down on a seat placed in
+the sunny space before the door, and actually felt some invisible fiend
+take a place by me, and heard him utter a sarcastic laugh. The key was
+turned in the door, which was opened. The forest-master appeared with a
+paper in his hand. Suddenly my head was, as it were, enveloped in a
+mist. I looked up, and, oh horror! the gray-coated man was at my side,
+peering in my face with a satanic grin. He had extended the mist-cap he
+wore over my head. His shadow and my own were lying together at his
+feet in perfect amity. He kept twirling in his hand the well-known
+parchment with an air of indifference; and while the ranger, absorbed
+in thought, and intent upon his paper, paced up and down the arbor, my
+tormentor confidentially leaned towards me, and whispered: “So, Mr.
+Schlemihl, you have at length accepted my invitation; and here we sit,
+two heads under one hood, as the saying is. Well, well, all in good
+time. But now you can return me my bird’s nest—you have no further
+occasion for it; and I am sure you are too honorable a man to withhold
+it from me. No need of thanks, I assure you; I had infinite pleasure in
+lending it to you.” He took it out of my unresisting hand, put it into
+his pocket, and then broke into so loud a laugh at my expense, that the
+forest-master turned round, startled at the sound. I was petrified.
+“You must acknowledge,” he continued, “that in our position a hood is
+much more convenient. It serves to conceal not only a man, but his
+shadow, or as many shadows as he chooses to carry. I, for instance,
+to-day bring two, you perceive.” He laughed again. “Take notice,
+Schlemihl, that what a man refuses to do with a good grace in the first
+instance, he is always in the end compelled to do. I am still of
+opinion that you ought to redeem your shadow and claim your bride (for
+it is yet time); and as to Rascal, he shall dangle at a rope’s end—no
+difficult matter, so long as we can find a bit. As a mark of friendship
+I will give you my cap into the bargain.”
+
+The mother now came out, and the following conversation took place:
+“What is Minna doing?”—“She is weeping.”—“Silly child! what good can
+that do?”—“None, certainly; but it is so soon to bestow her hand on
+another. O husband, you are too harsh to your poor child.”—“No, wife;
+you view things in a wrong light. When she finds herself the wife of a
+wealthy and honorable man, her tears will soon cease; she will waken
+out of a dream, as it were, happy and grateful to Heaven and to her
+parents, as you will see.”—“Heaven grant it may be so!” replied the
+wife. “She has, indeed, now considerable property; but after the noise
+occasioned by her unlucky affair with that adventurer, do you imagine
+that she is likely soon to meet with so advantageous a match as Mr.
+Rascal? Do you know the extent of Mr. Rascal’s influence and wealth?
+Why, he has purchased with ready money, in this country, six millions
+of landed property, free from all encumbrances. I have had all the
+documents in my hands. It was he who outbid me everywhere when I was
+about to make a desirable purchase; and, besides, he has bills on Mr.
+Thomas John’s house to the amount of three millions and a half.”—“He
+must have been a prodigious thief!”—“How foolishly you talk! he wisely
+saved where others squandered their property.”—“A mere
+livery-servant!”—“Nonsense! he has at all events an unexceptionable
+shadow.”—“True, but…”
+
+While this conversation was passing, the gray-coated man looked at me
+with a satirical smile.
+
+The door opened, and Minna entered, leaning on the arm of her female
+attendant, silent tears flowing down her fair but pallid face. She
+seated herself in the chair which had been placed for her under the
+lime trees, and her father took a stool by her side. He gently raised
+her hand; and as her tears flowed afresh, he addressed her in the most
+affectionate manner:
+
+“My own dear, good child—my Minna—will act reasonably, and not afflict
+her poor old father, who only wishes to make her happy. My dearest
+child, this blow has shaken you—dreadfully, I know it; but you have
+been saved, as by a miracle, from a miserable fate, my Minna. You loved
+the unworthy villain most tenderly before his treachery was discovered:
+I feel all this, Minna; and far be it from me to reproach you for it—in
+fact, I myself loved him so long as I considered him to be a person of
+rank: you now see yourself how differently it has turned out. Every dog
+has a shadow; and the idea of my child having been on the eve of
+uniting herself to a man who… but I am sure you will think no more of
+him. A suitor has just appeared for you in the person of a man who does
+not fear the sun—an honorable man—no prince indeed, but a man worth ten
+millions of golden ducats sterling—a sum nearly ten times larger than
+your fortune consists of—a man, too, who will make my dear child
+happy—nay, do not oppose me—be my own good, dutiful child—allow your
+loving father to provide for you, and to dry up these tears. Promise to
+bestow your hand on Mr. Rascal. Speak my child: will you not?”
+
+Minna could scarcely summon strength to reply that she had now no
+longer any hopes or desires on earth, and that she was entirely at her
+father’s disposal. Rascal was therefore immediately sent for, and
+entered the room with his usual forwardness; but Minna in the meantime
+had swooned away.
+
+My detested companion looked at me indignantly, and whispered: “Can you
+endure this? Have you no blood in your veins?” He instantly pricked my
+finger, which bled. “Yes, positively,” he exclaimed, “you have some
+blood left!—come, sign.” The parchment and pen were in my hand!…
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+I submit myself to thy judgment, my dear Chamisso; I do not seek to
+bias it. I have long been a rigid censor of myself, and nourished at my
+heart the worm of remorse. This critical moment of my life is ever
+present to my soul, and I dare only cast a hesitating glance at it,
+with a deep sense of humiliation and grief. Ah, my dear friend, he who
+once permits himself thoughtlessly to deviate but one step from the
+right road will imperceptibly find himself involved in various
+intricate paths, all leading him farther and farther astray. In vain he
+beholds the guiding-stars of heaven shining before him. No choice is
+left him—he must descend the precipice, and offer himself up a
+sacrifice to his fate. After the false step which I had rashly made,
+and which entailed a curse upon me, I had, in the wantonness of
+passion, entangled one in my fate who had staked all her happiness upon
+me. What was left for me to do in a case where I had brought another
+into misery, but to make a desperate leap in the dark to save her?—the
+last, the only means of rescue presented itself. Think not so meanly of
+me, Chamisso, as to imagine that I would have shrunk from any sacrifice
+on my part. In such a case it would have been but a poor ransom. No,
+Chamisso; but my whole soul was filled with unconquerable hatred to the
+cringing knave and his crooked ways. I might be doing him injustice;
+but I shuddered at the bare idea of entering into any fresh compact
+with him. But here a circumstance took place which entirely changed the
+face of things….
+
+I know not whether to ascribe it to excitement of mind, exhaustion of
+physical strength (for during the last few days I had scarcely tasted
+anything), or the antipathy I felt to the society of my fiendish
+companion; but just as I was about to sign the fatal paper, I fell into
+a deep swoon, and remained for a long time as if dead. The first sounds
+which greeted my ears on recovering my consciousness were those of
+cursing and imprecation; I opened my eyes—it was dusk; my hateful
+companion was overwhelming me with reproaches. “Is not this behaving
+like an old woman? Come, rise up, and finish quickly what you were
+going to do; or perhaps you have changed your determination, and prefer
+to lie groaning there?”
+
+I raised myself with difficulty from the ground and gazed around me
+without speaking a word. It was late in the evening, and I heard
+strains of festive music proceeding from the ranger’s brilliantly
+illuminated house; groups of company were lounging about the gardens;
+two persons approached, and seating themselves on the bench I had
+lately occupied, began to converse on the subject of the marriage which
+had taken place that morning between the wealthy Mr. Rascal and Minna.
+All was then over.
+
+I tore off the cap which rendered me invisible; and my companion having
+disappeared, I plunged in silence into the thickest gloom of the grove,
+rapidly passed Count Peter’s bower towards the entrance-gate; but my
+tormentor still haunted me, and loaded me with reproaches. “And is this
+all the gratitude I am to expect from you, Mr. Schlemihl—you, whom I
+have been watching all the weary day, until you should recover from
+your nervous attack? What a fool’s part I have been enacting! It is of
+no use flying from me, Mr. Perverse—we are inseparable—you have my
+gold, I have your shadow; this exchange deprives us both of peace. Did
+you ever hear of a man’s shadow leaving him?—yours follows me until you
+receive it again into favor, and thus free me from it. Disgust and
+weariness sooner or later will compel you to do what you should have
+done gladly at first. In vain you strive with fate!”
+
+He continued unceasingly in the same tone, uttering constant sarcasms
+about the gold and the shadow, till I was completely bewildered. To fly
+from him was impossible. I had pursued my way through the empty streets
+towards my own house, which I could scarcely recognize—the windows were
+broken to pieces, no light was visible, the doors were shut, and the
+bustle of domestics had ceased. My companion burst into a loud laugh.
+“Yes, yes,” said he, “you see the state of things: however, you will
+find your friend Bendel at home; he was sent back the other day so
+fatigued, that I assure you he has never left the house since. He will
+have a fine story to tell! So I wish you a very good night—may we
+shortly meet again!”
+
+I had repeatedly rung the bell; at last a light appeared; and Bendel
+inquired from within who was there. The poor fellow could scarcely
+contain himself at the sound of my voice. The door flew open, and we
+were locked in each other’s arms. I found him sadly changed; he was
+looking ill and feeble. I, too, was altered; my hair had become quite
+gray. He conducted me through the desolate apartments to an inner room,
+which had escaped the general wreck. After partaking of some
+refreshments, we seated ourselves; and, with fresh lamentations, he
+began to tell me that the gray, withered old man whom he had met with
+my shadow had insensibly led him such a zig-zag race, that he had lost
+all traces of me, and at last sank down exhausted with fatigue; that,
+unable to find me, he had returned home, when, shortly after, the mob,
+at Rascal’s instigation, assembled violently before the house, broke
+the windows, and by all sorts of excesses completely satiated their
+fury. Thus had they treated their benefactor. My servants had fled in
+all directions. The police had banished me from the town as a
+suspicious character, and granted me an interval of twenty-four hours
+to leave the territory. Bendel added many particulars as to the
+information I had already obtained respecting Rascal’s wealth and
+marriage. This villain, it seems—who was the author of all the measures
+taken against me—became possessed of my secret nearly from the
+beginning, and, tempted by the love of money, had supplied himself with
+a key to my chest, and from that time had been laying the foundation of
+his present wealth. Bendel related all this with many tears, and wept
+for joy that I was once more safely restored to him, after all his
+fears and anxieties for me. In me, however, such a state of things only
+awoke despair.
+
+My dreadful fate now stared me in the face in all its gigantic and
+unchangeable horror. The source of tears was exhausted within me; no
+groans escaped my breast; but with cool indifference I bared my
+unprotected head to the blast. “Bendel,” said I, “you know my fate;
+this heavy visitation is a punishment for my early sins: but as for
+thee, my innocent friend, I can no longer permit thee to share my
+destiny. I will depart this very night—saddle me a horse—I will set out
+alone. Remain here, Bendel—I insist upon it: there must be some chests
+of gold still left in the house—take them, they are thine. I shall be a
+restless and solitary wanderer on the face of the earth; but should
+better days arise, and fortune once more smile propitiously on me, then
+I will not forget thy steady fidelity; for in hours of deep distress
+thy faithful bosom has been the depository of my sorrows.” With a
+bursting heart, the worthy Bendel prepared to obey this last command of
+his master; for I was deaf to all his arguments and blind to his tears.
+My horse was brought—I pressed my weeping friend to my bosom—threw
+myself into the saddle, and, under the friendly shades of night,
+quitted this sepulchre of my existence, indifferent which road my horse
+should take; for now on this side the grave I had neither wishes,
+hopes, nor fears.
+
+After a short time I was joined by a traveller on foot, who, after
+walking for a while by the side of my horse, observed that as we both
+seemed to be travelling the same road, he should beg my permission to
+lay his cloak on the horse’s back behind me, to which I silently
+assented. He thanked me with easy politeness for this trifling favor,
+praised my horse, and then took occasion to extol the happiness and the
+power of the rich, and fell, I scarcely know how, into a sort of
+conversation with himself, in which I merely acted the part of
+listener. He unfolded his views of human life and of the world, and,
+touching on metaphysics, demanded an answer from that cloudy science to
+the question of questions—the answer that should solve all mysteries.
+He deduced one problem from another in a very lucid manner, and then
+proceeded to their solution.
+
+You may remember, my dear friend, that after having run through the
+school-philosophy, I became sensible of my unfitness for metaphysical
+speculations, and therefore totally abstained from engaging in them.
+Since then I have acquiesced in some things, and abandoned all hope of
+comprehending others; trusting, as you advised me, to my own plain
+sense and the voice of conscience to direct, and, if possible, maintain
+me in the right path.
+
+Now this skilful rhetorician seemed to me to expend great skill in
+rearing a firmly-constructed edifice, towering aloft on its own
+self-supported basis, but resting on, and upheld by, some internal
+principle of necessity. I regretted in it the total absence of what I
+desired to find; and thus it seemed a mere work of art, serving only by
+its elegance and exquisite finish to captivate the eye. Nevertheless, I
+listened with pleasure to this eloquently gifted man, who diverted my
+attention from my own sorrows to the speaker; and he would have secured
+my entire acquiescence if he had appealed to my heart as well as to my
+judgment.
+
+In the meantime the hours had passed away, and morning had already
+dawned imperceptibly in the horizon; looking up, I shuddered as I
+beheld in the east all those splendid hues that announce the rising
+sun. At this hour, when all natural shadows are seen in their full
+proportions, not a fence or shelter of any kind could I descry in this
+open country, and I was not alone! I cast a glance at my companion, and
+shuddered again—it was the man in the gray coat himself! He laughed at
+my surprise, and said, without giving me time to speak: “You see,
+according to the fashion of this world, mutual convenience binds us
+together for a time; there is plenty of time to think of parting. The
+road here along the mountain, which perhaps has escaped your notice, is
+the only one that you can prudently take; into the valley you dare not
+descend—the path over the mountain would but reconduct you to the town
+which you have left—my road, too, lies this way. I perceive you change
+color at the rising sun—I have no objections to let you have the loan
+of your shadow during our journey, and in return you may not be
+indisposed to tolerate my society. You have now no Bendel; but I will
+act for him. I regret that you are not over-fond of me; but that need
+not prevent you from accepting my poor services. The devil is not so
+black as he is painted. Yesterday you provoked me, I own; but now that
+is all forgotten, and you must confess I have this day succeeded in
+beguiling the wearisomeness of your journey. Come, take your shadow,
+and make trial of it.”
+
+The sun had risen, and we were meeting with passengers; so I
+reluctantly consented. With a smile, he immediately let my shadow glide
+down to the ground; and I beheld it take its place by that of my horse,
+and gayly trot along with me. My feelings were anything but pleasant. I
+rode through groups of country people, who respectfully made way for
+the well-mounted stranger. Thus I proceeded, occasionally stealing a
+side-long glance with a beating heart from my horse at the shadow once
+my own, but now, alas, accepted as a loan from a stranger, or rather a
+fiend. He moved on carelessly at my side, whistling a song. He being on
+foot, and I on horseback, the temptation to hazard a silly project
+occurred to me; so, suddenly turning my bridle, I set spurs to my
+horse, and at full gallop struck into a by-path; but my shadow, on the
+sudden movement of my horse, glided away, and stood on the road quietly
+awaiting the approach of its legal owner. I was obliged to return
+abashed towards the gray man; but he very coolly finished his song, and
+with a laugh set my shadow to rights again, reminding me that it was at
+my option to have it irrevocably fixed to me, by purchasing it on just
+and equitable terms. “I hold you,” said he, “by the shadow; and you
+seek in vain to get rid of me. A rich man like you requires a shadow,
+unquestionably; and you are to blame for not having seen this sooner.”
+
+I now continued my journey on the same road; every convenience and even
+luxury of life was mine; I moved about in peace and freedom, for I
+possessed a shadow, though a borrowed one; and all the respect due to
+wealth was paid to me. But a deadly disease preyed on my heart. My
+extraordinary companion, who gave himself out to be the humble
+attendant of the richest individual in the world, was remarkable for
+his dexterity; in short, his singular address and promptitude admirably
+fitted him to be the very beau ideal of a rich man’s lacquey. But he
+never stirred from my side, and tormented me with constant assurances
+that a day would most certainly come when, if it were only to get rid
+of him, I should gladly comply with his terms, and redeem my shadow.
+Thus he became as irksome as he was hateful to me. I really stood in
+awe of him—I had placed myself in his power. Since he had effected my
+return to the pleasures of the world, which I had resolved to shun, he
+had the perfect mastery of me. His eloquence was irresistible, and at
+times I almost thought he was in the right. A shadow is indeed
+necessary to a man of fortune; and if I chose to maintain the position
+in which he had placed me, there was only one means of doing so. But on
+one point I was immovable: since I had sacrificed my love for Minna,
+and thereby blighted the happiness of my whole life, I would not now,
+for all the shadows in the universe, be induced to sign away my soul to
+this being—I knew not how it might end.
+
+One day we were sitting by the entrance of a cavern much visited by
+strangers who ascended the mountain; the rushing noise of a
+subterranean torrent resounded from the fathomless abyss, the depths of
+which exceeded all calculation. He was, according to his favorite
+custom, employing all the powers of his lavish fancy, and all the charm
+of the most brilliant coloring, to depict to me what I might effect in
+the world by virtue of my purse, when once I had recovered my shadow.
+With my elbows resting on my knees, I kept my face concealed in my
+hands, and listened to the false fiend, my heart torn between the
+temptation and my determined opposition to it. Such indecision I could
+no longer endure, and resolved on one decisive effort.
+
+“You seem to forget,” said I, “that I tolerate your presence only on
+certain conditions, and that I am to retain perfect freedom of action.”
+
+“You have but to command; I depart,” was all his reply.
+
+The threat was familiar to me; I was silent. He then began to fold up
+my shadow. I turned pale, but allowed him to continue. A long silence
+ensued, which he was the first to break.
+
+“You cannot endure me, Mr. Schlemihl—you hate me—I am aware of it—but
+why?—is it, perhaps, because you attacked me on the open plain, in
+order to rob me of my invisible bird’s nest? or is it because you
+thievishly endeavored to seduce away the shadow with which I had
+entrusted you—my own property—confiding implicitly in your honor? I,
+for my part, have no dislike to you. It is perfectly natural that you
+should avail yourself of every means, presented either, by cunning or
+force, to promote your own interests. That your principles also should
+be of the strictest sort, and your intentions of the most honorable
+description,—these are fancies with which I have nothing to do; I do
+not pretend to such strictness myself. Each of us is free, I to act,
+and you to think, as seems best. Did I ever seize you by the throat, to
+tear out of your body that valuable soul I so ardently wish to possess?
+Did I ever set my servant to attack you, to get back my purse, or
+attempt to run off with it from you?”
+
+I had not a word to reply.
+
+“Well, well,” he exclaimed, “you detest me, and I know it; but I bear
+you no malice on that account. We must part—that is clear; also I must
+say that you begin to be very tiresome to me. Once more let me advise
+you to free yourself entirely from my troublesome presence by the
+purchase of your shadow.”
+
+I held out the purse to him.
+
+“No, Mr. Schlemihl; not at that price.”
+
+With a deep sigh, I said, “Be it so, then; let us part, I entreat;
+cross my path no more. There is surely room enough in the world for us
+both.”
+
+Laughing, he replied: “I go; but just allow me to inform you how you
+may at any time recall me whenever you have a mind to see your most
+humble servant: you have only to shake your purse, the sound of the
+gold will bring me to you in an instant. In this world every one
+consults his own advantage; but you see I have thought of yours, and
+clearly confer upon you a new power. Oh this purse! it would still
+prove a powerful bond between us, had the moth begun to devour your
+shadow. But enough: you hold me by my gold, and may command your
+servant at any distance. You know that I can be very serviceable to my
+friends, and that the rich are my peculiar care—this you have observed.
+As to your shadow, allow me to say, you can only redeem it on one
+condition.”
+
+Recollections of former days came over me; and I hastily asked him if
+he had obtained Mr. Thomas John’s signature.
+
+He smiled, and said: “It was by no means necessary from so excellent a
+friend.”
+
+“Where is he? for God’s sake tell me; I insist upon knowing.”
+
+With some hesitation, he put his hand into his pocket, and drew out the
+altered and pallid form of Mr. John by the hair of his head, whose
+livid lips uttered the awful words, “Justo judicio Dei judicatus sum;
+justo judicio Dei condemnatus sum”—“I am judged and condemned by the
+just judgment of God.” I was horror-struck; and instantly throwing the
+jingling purse into the abyss, I exclaimed, “Wretch! in the name of
+Heaven, I conjure you to be gone!—away from my sight!—never appear
+before me again!” With a dark expression on his countenance, he rose,
+and immediately vanished behind the huge rocks which surrounded the
+place.
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+I was now left equally without gold and without shadow; but a heavy
+load was taken from my breast, and I felt cheerful. Had not my Minna
+been irrecoverably lost to me, or even had I been perfectly free from
+self-reproach on her account, I felt that happiness might yet have been
+mine. At present I was lost in doubt as to my future course. I examined
+my pockets, and found I had a few gold-pieces still left, which I
+counted with feelings of great satisfaction. I had left my horse at the
+inn, and was ashamed to return, or at all events I must wait till the
+sun had set, which at present was high in the heavens. I laid myself
+down under a shady tree and fell into a peaceful sleep.
+
+Lovely forms floated in airy measures before me, and filled up my
+delightful dreams. Minna, with a garland of flowers entwined in her
+hair, was bending over me with a smile of good-will; also the worthy
+Bendel was crowned with flowers, and hastened to meet me with friendly
+greetings. Many other forms seemed to rise up confusedly in the
+distance: thyself among the number, Chamisso. Perfect radiance beamed
+around them, but none had a shadow; and what was more surprising, there
+was no appearance of unhappiness on this account. Nothing was to be
+seen or heard but flowers and music; and love and joy, and groves of
+never-fading palms, seemed the natives of that happy clime.
+
+In vain I tried to detain and comprehend the lovely but fleeting forms.
+I was conscious, also, of being in a dream, and was anxious that
+nothing should rouse me from it; and when I did awake, I kept my eyes
+closed, in order if possible to continue the illusion. At last I opened
+my eyes. The sun was now visible in the east; I must have slept the
+whole night: I looked upon this as a warning not to return to the inn.
+What I had left there I was content to lose, without much regret; and
+resigning myself to Providence, I decided on taking a by-road that led
+through the wooded declivity of the mountain. I never once cast a
+glance behind me; nor did it ever occur to me to return, as I might
+have done, to Bendel, whom I had left in affluence. I reflected on the
+new character I was now going to assume in the world. My present garb
+was very humble—consisting of an old black coat I formerly had worn at
+Berlin, and which by some chance was the first I put my hand on before
+setting out on this journey, a travelling-cap, and an old pair of
+boots. I cut down a knotted stick in memory of the spot, and commenced
+my pilgrimage.
+
+In the forest I met an aged peasant, who gave me a friendly greeting,
+and with whom I entered into conversation, requesting, as a traveller
+desirous of information, some particulars relative to the road, the
+country, and its inhabitants, the productions of the mountain, etc. He
+replied to my various inquiries with readiness and intelligence. At
+last we reached the bed of a mountain-torrent, which had laid waste a
+considerable tract of the forest; I inwardly shuddered at the idea of
+the open sunshine. I suffered the peasant to go before me. In the
+middle of the very place which I dreaded so much, he suddenly stopped,
+and turned back to give me an account of this inundation; but instantly
+perceiving that I had no shadow, he broke off abruptly, and exclaimed:
+“How is this?—you have no shadow!”
+
+“Alas, alas!” said I, “in a long and serious illness I had the
+misfortune to lose my hair, my nails, and my shadow. Look, good father;
+although my hair has grown again, it is quite white; and at my age my
+nails are still very short; and my poor shadow seems to have left me,
+never to return.”
+
+“Ah!” said the old man, shaking his head; “no shadow! that was indeed a
+terrible illness, sir.”
+
+But he did not resume his narrative; and at the very first cross-road
+we came to left me without uttering a syllable. Fresh tears flowed from
+my eyes, and my cheerfulness had fled. With a heavy heart I travelled
+on, avoiding all society. I plunged into the deepest shades of the
+forest; and often, to avoid a sunny tract of country, I waited for
+hours till every human being had left it, and I could pass it
+unobserved. In the evenings I took shelter in the villages. I bent my
+steps to a mine in the mountains, where I hoped to meet with work
+underground; for besides that my present situation compelled me to
+provide for my own support, I felt that incessant and laborious
+occupation alone could divert my mind from dwelling on painful
+subjects. A few rainy days assisted me materially on my journey; but it
+was to the no small detriment of my boots, the soles of which were
+better suited to Count Peter than to the poor foot-traveller. I was
+soon barefoot, and a new purchase must be made. The following morning I
+commenced an earnest search in a market-place, where a fair was being
+held; and I saw in one of the booths new and second-hand boots set out
+for sale. I was a long time selecting and bargaining; I wished much to
+have a new pair, but was frightened at the extravagant price; and so
+was obliged to content myself with a second-hand pair, still pretty
+good and strong, which the beautiful fair-haired youth who kept the
+booth handed over to me with a cheerful smile, wishing me a prosperous
+journey. I went on, and left the place immediately by the northern
+gate.
+
+I was so lost in my own thoughts, that I walked along scarcely knowing
+how or where. I was calculating the chances of my reaching the mine by
+the evening, and considering how I should introduce myself. I had not
+gone two hundred steps, when I perceived I was not in the right road. I
+looked round, and found myself in a wild-looking forest of ancient
+firs, where apparently the stroke of the axe had never been heard. A
+few steps more brought me amid huge rocks covered with moss and
+saxifragous plants, between which whole fields of snow and ice were
+extended. The air was intensely cold. I looked round, and the forest
+had disappeared behind me; a few steps more, and there was the
+stillness of death itself. The icy plain on which I stood stretched to
+an immeasurable distance, and a thick cloud rested upon it; the sun was
+of a red blood-color at the verge of the horizon: the cold was
+insupportable. I could not imagine what had happened to me. The
+benumbing frost made me quicken my pace. I heard a distant sound of
+waters; and at one step more I stood on the icy shore of some ocean.
+Innumerable droves of sea-dogs rushed past me and plunged into the
+waves. I continued my way along this coast, and again met with rocks,
+plains, birch and fir forests, and yet only a few minutes had elapsed.
+It was now intensely hot. I looked around, and suddenly found myself
+between some fertile rice-fields and mulberry trees; I sat down under
+their shade, and found by my watch that it was just one quarter of an
+hour since I had left the village market. I fancied it was a dream; but
+no, I was indeed awake, as I felt by the experiment I made of biting my
+tongue. I closed my eyes in order to collect my scattered thoughts.
+Presently I heard unintelligible words uttered in a nasal tone; and I
+beheld two Chinese, whose Asiatic physiognomies were not to be
+mistaken, even had their costume not betrayed their origin. They were
+addressing me in the language and with the salutations of their
+country. I rose and drew back a couple of steps. They had disappeared;
+the landscape was entirely changed; the rice-fields had given place to
+trees and woods. I examined some of the trees and plants around me, and
+ascertained such of them as I was acquainted with to be productions of
+the southern part of Asia. I made one step towards a particular tree,
+and again all was changed. I now moved on like a recruit at drill,
+taking slow and measured steps, gazing with astonished eyes at the
+wonderful variety of regions, plains, meadows, mountains, steppes, and
+sandy deserts, which passed in succession before me. I had now no doubt
+that I had seven-leagued boots on my feet.
+
+I fell on my knees in silent gratitude, shedding tears of thankfulness;
+for I now saw clearly what was to be my future condition. Shut out by
+early sins from all human society, I was offered amends for the
+privation by Nature herself, which I had ever loved. The earth was
+granted me as a rich garden; and the knowledge of her operations was to
+be the study and object of my life. This was not a mere resolution. I
+have since endeavored, with anxious and unabated industry, faithfully
+to imitate the finished and brilliant model then presented to me; and
+my vanity has received a check when led to compare the picture with the
+original. I rose immediately, and took a hasty survey of this new
+field, where I hoped afterwards to reap a rich harvest.
+
+I stood on the heights of Thibet; and the sun I had lately beheld in
+the east was now sinking in the west. I traversed Asia from east to
+west, and thence passed into Africa, which I curiously examined, at
+repeated visits, in all directions. As I gazed on the ancient pyramids
+and temples of Egypt, I descried, in the sandy deserts near Thebes of
+the hundred gates, the caves where Christian hermits dwelt of old.
+
+My determination was instantly taken, that here should be my future
+dwelling. I chose one of the most secluded, but roomy, comfortable, and
+inaccessible to the jackals.
+
+I stepped over from the pillars of Hercules to Europe; and having taken
+a survey of its northern and southern countries, I passed by the north
+of Asia, on the polar glaciers, to Greenland and America, visiting both
+parts of this continent; and the winter, which was already at its
+height in the south, drove me quickly back from Cape Horn to the north.
+I waited till daylight had risen in the east of Asia, and then, after a
+short rest, continued my pilgrimage. I followed in both the Americas
+the vast chain of the Andes, once considered the loftiest on our globe.
+I stepped carefully and slowly from one summit to another, sometimes
+over snowy heights, sometimes over flaming volcanoes, often breathless
+from fatigue. At last I reached Elias’s mountain, and sprang over
+Behring’s Straits into Asia; I followed the western coast in its
+various windings, carefully observing which of the neighboring isles
+was accessible to me. From the peninsula of Malacca my boots carried me
+to Sumatra, Java, Bali, and Lombok. I made many attempts—often with
+danger, and always unsuccessfully—to force my way over the numerous
+little islands and rocks with which this sea is studded, wishing to
+find a northwest passage to Borneo and other islands of the
+Archipelago.
+
+At last I sat down at the extreme point of Lombok, my eyes turned
+towards the southeast, lamenting that I had so soon reached the limits
+allotted to me, and bewailing my fate as a captive in his grated cell.
+Thus was I shut out from that remarkable country, New Holland, and the
+islands of the southern ocean, so essentially necessary to a knowledge
+of the earth, and which would have best assisted me in the study of the
+animal and vegetable kingdoms. And thus, at the very outset, I beheld
+all my labors condemned to be limited to mere fragments.
+
+Ah! Chamisso, what is the activity of man?
+
+Frequently in the most rigorous winters of the southern hemisphere I
+have rashly thrown myself on a fragment of drifting ice between Cape
+Horn and Van Diemen’s Land, in the hope of effecting a passage to New
+Holland, reckless of the cold and the vast ocean, reckless of my fate,
+even should this savage land prove my grave.
+
+But all in vain—I never reached New Holland. Each time, when defeated
+in my attempt, I returned to Lombok; and seated at its extreme point,
+my eyes directed to the southeast, I gave way afresh to lamentations
+that my range of investigation was so limited. At last I tore myself
+from the spot, and, heartily grieved at my disappointment, returned to
+the interior of Asia. Setting out at morning dawn, I traversed it from
+east to west, and at night reached the cave in Thebes which I had
+previously selected for my dwelling-place, and had visited yesterday
+afternoon.
+
+After a short repose, as soon as daylight had visited Europe, it was my
+first care to provide myself with the articles of which I stood most in
+need. First of all a drag to act on my boots; for I had experienced the
+inconvenience of these whenever I wished to shorten my steps and
+examine surrounding objects more fully. A pair of slippers to go over
+the boots served the purpose effectually; and from that time I carried
+two pairs about me, because I frequently cast them off from my feet in
+my botanical investigations, without having time to pick them up, when
+threatened by the approach of lions, men, or hyenas. My excellent
+watch, owing to the short duration of my movements, was also on these
+occasions an admirable chronometer. I wanted, besides, a sextant, a few
+philosophical instruments, and some books. To purchase these things, I
+made several unwilling journeys to London and Paris, choosing a time
+when I could be hid by the favoring clouds. As all my ill-gotten gold
+was exhausted, I carried over from Africa some ivory, which is there so
+plentiful, in payment of my purchases—taking care, however; to pick out
+the smallest teeth, in order not to overburden myself. I had thus soon
+provided myself with all that I wanted, and now entered on a new mode
+of life as a student—wandering over the globe—measuring the height of
+the mountains, and the temperature of the air and of the
+springs—observing the manners and habits of animals—investigating
+plants and flowers. From the equator to the pole, and from the new
+world to the old, I was constantly engaged in repeating and comparing
+my experiments.
+
+My usual food consisted of the eggs of the African ostrich or northern
+sea-birds, with a few fruits, especially those of the palm and the
+banana of the tropics. The tobacco-plant consoled me when I was
+depressed; and the affection of my spaniel was a compensation for the
+loss of human sympathy and society. When I returned from my excursions,
+loaded with fresh treasures, to my cave in Thebes, which he guarded
+during my absence, he ever sprang joyfully forward to greet me, and
+made me feel that I was indeed not alone on the earth. An adventure
+soon occurred which brought me once more among my fellow-creatures.
+
+One day, as I was gathering lichens and algae on the northern coast,
+with the drag on my boots, a bear suddenly made his appearance, and was
+stealing towards me round the corner of a rock. After throwing away my
+slippers, I attempted to step across to an island, by means of a rock,
+projecting from the waves in the intermediate space, that served as a
+stepping-stone. I reached the rock safely with one foot, but instantly
+fell into the sea with the other, one of my slippers having
+inadvertently remained on. The cold was intense; and I escaped this
+imminent peril at the risk of my life. On coming ashore, I hastened to
+the Libyan sands to dry myself in the sun; but the heat affected my
+head so much, that, in a fit of illness, I staggered back to the north.
+In vain I sought relief by change of place—hurrying from east to west,
+and from west to east—now in climes of the south, now in those of the
+north; sometimes I rushed into daylight, sometimes into the shades of
+night. I know not how long this lasted. A burning fever raged in my
+veins; with extreme anguish I felt my senses leaving me. Suddenly, by
+an unlucky accident, I trod upon some one’s foot, whom I had hurt, and
+received a blow in return which laid me senseless.
+
+On recovering, I found myself lying comfortably in a good bed, which,
+with many other beds, stood in a spacious and handsome apartment. Some
+one was watching by me; people seemed to be walking from one bed to
+another; they came beside me, and spoke of me as NUMBER TWELVE. On the
+wall, at the foot of my bed—it was no dream, for I distinctly read
+it—on a black-marble tablet was inscribed my name, in large letters of
+gold:
+
+PETER SCHLEMIHL.
+
+
+Underneath were two rows of letters in smaller characters, which I was
+too feeble to connect together, and closed my eyes again.
+
+I now heard something read aloud, in which I distinctly noted the
+words, “Peter Schlemihl,” but could not collect the full meaning. I saw
+a man of benevolent aspect, and a very beautiful female dressed in
+black, standing near my bed; their countenances were not unknown to me,
+but in my weak state I could not remember who they were. Some time
+elapsed, and I began to regain my strength. I was called Number Twelve,
+and, from my long beard, was supposed to be a Jew, but was not the less
+carefully nursed on that account. No one seemed to perceive that I was
+destitute of a shadow. My boots, I was assured, together with
+everything found on me when I was brought here, were in safe keeping,
+and would be given up to me on my restoration to health. This place was
+called the SCHLEMIHLIUM: the daily recitation I had heard was an
+exhortation to pray for Peter Schlemihl as the founder and benefactor
+of this institution. The benevolent-looking man whom I had seen by my
+bedside was Bendel; the beautiful lady in black was Minna. I had been
+enjoying the advantages of the Schlemihlium without being recognized;
+and I learned, further, that I was in Bendel’s native town, where he
+had employed a part of my once unhallowed gold in founding an hospital
+in my name, under his superintendence, and that its unfortunate inmates
+daily pronounced blessings on me. Minna had become a widow: an unhappy
+lawsuit had deprived Rascal of his life, and Minna of the greater part
+of her property. Her parents were no more; and here she dwelt in
+widowed piety, wholly devoting herself to works of mercy.
+
+One day, as she stood by the side of Number Twelve’s bed with Bendel,
+he said to her, “Noble lady, why expose yourself so frequently to this
+unhealthy atmosphere? Has fate dealt so harshly with you as to render
+you desirous of death?”
+
+“By no means, Mr. Bendel,” she replied; “since I have awoke from my
+long dream, all has gone well with me. I now neither wish for death nor
+fear it, and think on the future and on the past with equal serenity.
+Do you not also feel an inward satisfaction in thus paying a pious
+tribute of gratitude and love to your old master and friend?”
+
+“Thanks be to God, I do, noble lady,” said he. “Ah, how wonderfully has
+everything fallen out! How thoughtlessly have we sipped joys and
+sorrows from the full cup now drained to the last drop; and we might
+fancy the past a mere prelude to the real scene for which we now wait
+armed by experience. How different has been the reality! Yet let us not
+regret the past, but rather rejoice that we have not lived in vain. As
+respects our old friend also, I have a firm hope that it is now better
+with him than formerly.”
+
+“I trust so, too,” answered Minna; and so saying, she passed by me, and
+they departed.
+
+This conversation made a deep impression on me; and I hesitated whether
+I should discover myself or depart unknown. At last I decided; and,
+asking for pen and paper, wrote as follows:
+
+“Matters are indeed better with your old friend than formerly. He has
+repented; and his repentance has led to forgiveness.”
+
+I now attempted to rise, for I felt myself stronger. The keys of a
+little chest near my bed were given me; and in it I found all my
+effects. I put on my clothes; fastened my botanical case round
+me—wherein, with delight, I found my northern lichens all safe—put on
+my boots, and, leaving my note on the table, left the gates, and was
+speedily far advanced on the road to Thebes.
+
+Passing along the Syrian coast, which was the same road I had taken on
+last leaving home, I beheld my poor Figaro running to meet me. The
+faithful animal, after vainly waiting at home for his master’s return,
+had probably followed his traces. I stood still, and called him. He
+sprang towards me with leaps and barks, and a thousand demonstrations
+of unaffected delight. I took him in my arms—for he was unable to
+follow me—and carried him home.
+
+There I found everything exactly in the order in which I had left it;
+and returned by degrees, as my increasing strength allowed me, to my
+old occupations and usual mode of life, from which I was kept back a
+whole year by my fall into the Polar Ocean. And this, dear Chamisso, is
+the life I am still leading. My boots are not yet worn out, as I had
+been led to fear would be the case from that very learned work of
+Tieckius—De Rebus Gestis Pollicilli. Their energies remain unimpaired;
+and although mine are gradually failing me, I enjoy the consolation of
+having spent them in pursuing incessantly one object, and that not
+fruitlessly.
+
+So far as my boots would carry me, I have observed and studied our
+globe and its conformation, its mountains and temperature, the
+atmosphere in its various changes, the influences of the magnetic
+power; in fact, I have studied all living creation—and more especially
+the kingdom of plants—more profoundly than any one of our race. I have
+arranged all the facts in proper order, to the best of my ability, in
+different works. The consequences deducible from these facts, and my
+views respecting them, I have hastily recorded in some essays and
+dissertations. I have settled the geography of the interior of Africa
+and the Arctic regions, of the interior of Asia and of its eastern
+coast. My Historia Stirpium Plantarum Utriusque Orbis is an extensive
+fragment of a Flora universalis terrae and a part of my Systema
+Naturae. Besides increasing the number of our known species by more
+than a third, I have also contributed somewhat to the natural system of
+plants and to a knowledge of their geography. I am now deeply engaged
+on my Fauna, and shall take care to have my manuscripts sent to the
+University of Berlin before my decease.
+
+I have selected thee, my dear Chamisso, to be the guardian of my
+wonderful history, thinking that, when I have left this world, it may
+afford valuable instruction to the living. As for thee, Chamisso, if
+thou wouldst live amongst thy fellow-creatures, learn to value thy
+shadow more than gold; if thou wouldst only live to thyself and thy
+nobler part—in this thou needest no counsel.
+
+
+
+
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Stories by Foreign Authors: German, Volume 2, by Various</title>
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Stories by Foreign Authors: German, Volume 2, by Various</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Stories by Foreign Authors: German, Volume 2</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Various</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 19, 2002 [eBook #6022]<br />
+[Most recently updated: November 7, 2021]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Nicole Apostola, Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES BY FOREIGN AUTHORS: GERMAN ***</div>
+
+<h1>STORIES BY FOREIGN AUTHORS</h1>
+
+<h3>GERMAN</h3>
+
+<p class="center">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+CHRISTIAN GELLERT&rsquo;S LAST CHRISTMAS …… BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH<br />
+A GHETTO VIOLET …… BY LEOPOLD KOMPERT<br />
+THE SEVERED HAND …… BY WILHELM HAUFF<br />
+PETER SCHLEMIHL …… BY ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>PUBLISHERS&rsquo; NOTE</h2>
+
+<p>
+The translations in this volume, where previously published, are used by
+arrangement with the owners of the copyrights (as specified at the beginning of
+each story). Translations made especially for the series are covered by its
+general copyright. All rights in both classes are reserved.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>Contents</h2>
+
+<table summary="" style="">
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap01">CHRISTIAN GELLERT&rsquo;S LAST CHRISTMAS &mdash; BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap02">A GHETTO VIOLET &mdash; BY LEOPOLD KOMPERT</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap03">THE SEVERED HAND &mdash; BY WILHELM HAUFF</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap04">PETER SCHLEMIHL &mdash; BY ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+</table>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHRISTIAN GELLERT&rsquo;S LAST CHRISTMAS</h2>
+
+<h5>BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH</h5>
+
+<p>
+Three o&rsquo;clock had just struck from the tower of St. Nicholas, Leipzig, on
+the afternoon of December 22d, 1768, when a man, wrapped in a loose overcoat,
+came out of the door of the University. His countenance was exceedingly gentle,
+and on his features cheerfulness still lingered, for he had been gazing upon a
+hundred cheerful faces; after him thronged a troop of students, who, holding
+back, allowed him to precede them: the passengers in the streets saluted him,
+and some students, who pressed forwards and hurried past him homewards, saluted
+him quite reverentially. He returned their salutations with a surprised and
+almost deprecatory air, and yet he knew, and could not conceal from himself,
+that he was one of the best beloved, not only in the good city of Leipzig, but
+in all lands far and wide.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was Christian Furchtegott Gellert, the Poet of Fables, Hymns, and Lays, who
+was just leaving his college.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we read his &ldquo;Lectures upon Morals,&rdquo; which were not printed
+until after his death, we obtain but a very incomplete idea of the great power
+with which they came immediately from Gellert&rsquo;s mouth. Indeed, it was his
+voice, and the touching manner in which he delivered his lectures, that made so
+deep an impression upon his hearers; and Rabener was right when once he wrote
+to a friend, that &ldquo;the philanthropic voice&rdquo; of Gellert belonged to
+his words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Above all, however, it was the amiable and pure personal character of Gellert
+which vividly and edifyingly impressed young hearts. Gellert was himself the
+best example of pure moral teaching; and the best which a teacher can give his
+pupils is faith in the victorious might, and the stability of the eternal moral
+laws. His lessons were for the Life, for his life in itself was a lesson. Many
+a victory over the troubles of life, over temptations of every kind, ay, many
+an elevation to nobility of thought, and to purity of action, had its origin in
+that lecture-hall, at the feet of Gellert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was as though Gellert felt that it was the last time he would deliver these
+lectures; that those words so often and so impressively uttered would be heard
+no more from his mouth; and there was a peculiar sadness, yet a peculiar
+strength, in all he said that day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had this day earnestly recommended modesty and humility; and it appeared
+almost offensive to him, that people as he went should tempt him in regard to
+these very virtues; for continually he heard men whisper, &ldquo;That is
+Gellert!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What is fame, and what is honor? A cloak of many colors, without warmth,
+without protection: and now, as he walked along, his heart literally froze in
+his bosom, as he confessed to himself that he had as yet done
+nothing&mdash;nothing which could give him a feeling of real satisfaction. Men
+honored him and loved him: but what was all that worth? His innermost heart
+could not be satisfied with that; in his own estimation he deserved no meed of
+praise; and where, where was there any evidence of that higher and purer life
+which he would fain bring about! Then, again, the Spirit would comfort him and
+say: &ldquo;Much seed is lost, much falls in stony places, and much on good
+ground and brings forth sevenfold.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His inmost soul heard not the consolation, for his body was weak and sore
+burdened from his youth up, and in his latter days yet more than ever; and
+there are conditions of the body in which the most elevating words, and the
+cheeriest notes of joy, strike dull and heavy on the soul. It is one of the
+bitterest experiences of life to discover how little one man can really be to
+another. How joyous is that youthful freshness which can believe that, by a
+thought transferred to another&rsquo;s heart, we can induce him to become
+another being, to live according to what he must acknowledge true, to throw
+aside his previous delusions, and return to the right path!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The youngsters go their way! Do your words follow after? Whither are they
+going? What are now their thoughts? What manner of life will be theirs?
+&ldquo;My heart yearns after them, but cannot be with them: oh, how happy were
+those messengers of the Spirit, who cried aloud to youth or manhood the words
+of the Spirit, that they must leave their former ways, and thenceforth change
+to other beings! Pardon me, O God! that I would fain be like them; I am weak
+and vile, and yet, methinks, there must be words as yet unheard,
+unknown&mdash;oh! where are they, those words which at once lay hold upon the
+soul?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With such heavy thoughts went Gellert away from his college-gate to Rosenthal.
+There was but one small pathway cleared, but the passers cheerfully made way
+for him, and walked in the snow that they might leave him the pathway
+unimpeded; but he felt sad, and &ldquo;as if each tree had somewhat to cast at
+him.&rdquo; Like all men really pure, and cleaving to the good with all their
+might, Gellert was not only far from contenting himself with work already done:
+he also, in his anxiety to be doing, almost forgot that he had ever done
+anything, and thus he was, in the best sense of the word, modest; he began with
+each fresh day his course of action afresh, as if he now for the first time had
+anything to accomplish. And yet he might have been happy, in the reflection how
+brightly beamed his teaching for ever, though his own life was often clouded.
+For as the sun which glows on summer days still lives as concentrated warmth in
+wine, and somewhere on some winter night warms up a human heart, so is the
+sunshine in that man&rsquo;s life whose vocation it is to impart to others the
+conceptions of his own mind. Nay, there is here far more; for the refreshing
+draught here offered is not diminished, though thousands drink thereof.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Twilight had set in when Gellert returned home to his dwelling, which had for
+its sign a &ldquo;Schwarz Brett&rdquo; or &ldquo;black board.&rdquo; His old
+servant, Sauer by name, took off his overcoat; and his amanuensis, Gödike,
+asked whether the Professor had any commands; being answered in the negative,
+Gödike retired, and Sauer lighted the lamp upon the study-table. &ldquo;Some
+letters have arrived,&rdquo; said he, as he pointed to several upon the table:
+Gellert inclined his head, and Sauer retired also. Outside, however, he stood
+awhile with Gödike, and both spoke sorrowfully of the fact that the Professor
+was evidently again suffering severely. &ldquo;There is a melancholy,&rdquo;
+said Gödike, &ldquo; and it is the most usual, in which the inward depression
+easily changes to displeasure against every one, and the household of the
+melancholic suffers thereby intolerably; for the displeasure turns against
+them,&mdash;no one does anything properly, nothing is in its place. How very
+different is Gellert&rsquo;s melancholy! Not a soul suffers from it but
+himself, against himself alone his gloomy thoughts turn, and towards every
+other creature he is always kind, amiable, and obliging: he bites his lips; but
+when he speaks to any one, he is wholly good, forbearing, and self-forgetful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whilst they were talking together, Gellert was sitting in his room, and had
+lighted a pipe to dispel the agitation which he would experience in opening his
+letters; and while smoking, he could read them much more comfortably. He
+reproached himself for smoking, which was said to be injurious to his health,
+but he could not quite give up the &ldquo;horrible practice,&rdquo; as he
+called it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He first examined the addresses and seals of the letters which had arrived,
+then quietly opened and read them. A fitful smile passed over his features;
+there were letters from well-known friends, full of love and admiration, but
+from strangers also, who, in all kinds of heart-distress, took counsel of him.
+He read the letters full of friendly applause, first hastily, that he might
+have the right of reading them again, and that he might not know all at once;
+and when he had read a friend&rsquo;s letter for the second time, he sprang
+from his seat and cried, &ldquo;Thank God! thank God! that I am so fortunate as
+to have such friends!&rdquo; To his inwardly diffident nature these helps were
+a real requirement; they served to cheer him, and only those who did not know
+him called his joy at the reception of praise&mdash;conceit; it was, on the
+contrary, the truest modesty. How often did he sit there, and all that he had
+taught and written, all that he had ever been to men in word and deed, faded,
+vanished, and died away, and he appeared to himself but a useless servant of
+the world. His friends he answered immediately; and as his inward melancholy
+vanished, and the philanthropy, nay, the sprightliness of his soul beamed
+forth, when he was among men and looked in a living face, so was it also with
+his letters. When he bethought him of the friends to whom he was writing, he
+not only acquired tranquillity, that virtue for which his whole life long he
+strove; but his loving nature received new life, and only by slight intimations
+did he betray the heaviness and dejection which weighed upon his soul. He was,
+in the full sense of the word, &ldquo;philanthropic,&rdquo; in the sight of
+good men; and in thoughts for their welfare, there was for him a real happiness
+and a joyous animation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When, however, he had done writing and felt lonely again, the gloomy spirits
+came back: he had seated himself, wishing to raise his thoughts for composing a
+sacred song; but he was ill at ease, and had no power to express that inward,
+firm, and self-rejoicing might of faith which lived in him. Again and again the
+scoffers and free-thinkers rose up before his thoughts: he must refute their
+objections, and not until that was done did he become himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is a hard position, when a creative spirit cannot forget the adversaries
+which on all sides oppose him in the world: they come unsummoned to the room
+and will not be expelled; they peer over the shoulder, and tug at the hand
+which fain would write; they turn images upside down, and distort the thoughts;
+and here and there, from ceiling and wall, they grin, and scoff, and oppose:
+and what was just gushing as an aspiration from the soul, is converted to a
+confused absurdity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At such a time, the spirit, courageous and self-dependent, must take refuge in
+itself and show a firm front to a world of foes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A strong nature boldly hurls his inkstand at the Devil&rsquo;s head; goes to
+battle with his opponents with words both written and spoken; and keeps his own
+individuality free from the perplexities with which opponents disturb all that
+has been previously done, and make the soul unsteadfast and unnerved for what
+is to come.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gellert&rsquo;s was no battling, defiant nature, which relies upon itself; he
+did not hurl his opponents down and go his way; he would convince them, and so
+they were always ready to encounter him. And as the applause of his friends
+rejoiced him, so the opposition of his enemies could sink him in deep
+dejection. Besides, he had always been weakly; he had, as he himself
+complained, in addition to frequent coughs and a pain in his loins, a continual
+gnawing and pressure in the centre of his chest, which accompanied him from his
+first rising in the morning until he slept at night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus he sat for a while, in deep dejection: and, as often before, his only wish
+was, that God would give him grace whereby when his hour was come, he might die
+piously and tranquilly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was past midnight when he sought his bed and extinguished his light.
+</p>
+
+<p class="p2">
+And the buckets at the well go up and go down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About the same hour, in Duben Forest, the rustic Christopher was rising from
+his bed. As with steel and flint he scattered sparks upon the tinder, in
+kindling himself a light, his wife, awakening, cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why that heavy sigh?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! life is a burden: I&rsquo;m the most harassed mortal in the world.
+The pettiest office-clerk may now be abed in peace, and needn&rsquo;t break off
+his sleep, while I must go out and brave wind and weather.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be content,&rdquo; replied his wife: &ldquo;why, I dreamt you had
+actually been made magistrate, and wore something on your head like a
+king&rsquo;s crown.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! you women; as though what you see isn&rsquo;t enough, you like to
+chatter about what you dream.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Light the lamp, too,&rdquo; said his wife, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;ll get up
+and make you a nice porridge.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peasant, putting a candle in his lantern, went to the stable; and after he
+had given some fodder to the horses, he seated himself upon the manger. With
+his hands squeezed between his knees and his head bent down, he reflected over
+and over again what a wretched existence he had of it. &ldquo;Why,&rdquo;
+thought he, &ldquo;are so many men so well-off, so comfortable, whilst you must
+be always toiling? What care I if envy be not a virtue?&mdash;and yet I&rsquo;m
+not envious, I don&rsquo;t grudge others being well-off, only I should like to
+be well-off too; oh, for a quiet, easy life! Am I not worse off than a horse?
+He gets his fodder at the proper time, and takes no care about it. Why did my
+father make my brother a minister? He gets his salary without any trouble, sits
+in a warm room, has no care in the world; and I must slave and torment
+myself.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Strange to say, his very next thought, that he would like to be made local
+magistrate, he would in no wise confess to himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat still a long while; then he went back again to the sitting-room, past
+the kitchen, where the fire was burning cheerily. He seated himself at the
+table and waited for his morning porridge. On the table lay an open book; his
+children had been reading it the previous evening: involuntarily taking it up,
+he began to read. Suddenly he started, rubbed his eyes, and then read again.
+How comes this verse here just at this moment? He kept his hand upon the book,
+and so easily had he caught the words, that he repeated them to himself softly
+with his lips, and nodded several times, as much as to say: &ldquo;That&rsquo;s
+true!&rdquo; And he said aloud: &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all there together: short and
+sweet!&rdquo; and he was still staring at it, when his wife brought in the
+smoking porridge. Taking off his cap, he folded his hands and said aloud:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Accept God&rsquo;s gifts with resignation,<br/>
+    Content to lack what thou hast not:<br/>
+In every lot there&rsquo;s consolation;<br/>
+    There&rsquo;s trouble, too, in every lot!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wife looked at her husband with amazement. What a strange expression was
+upon his face! And as he sat down and began to eat, she said: &ldquo;What is
+the meaning of that grace? What has to you? Where did you find it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It the best of all graces, the very best,&mdash;real God&rsquo;s word.
+Yes, and all your life you&rsquo;ve never made such nice porridge before. You
+must have put something special in it!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what you mean. Stop! There&rsquo;s the book lying
+there&mdash;ah! that&rsquo;s it&mdash;and it&rsquo;s by Gellert, of
+Leipzig.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What! Gellert, of Leipzig! Men with ideas like that don&rsquo;t live
+now; there may have been such, a thousand years ago, in holy lands, not among
+us; those are the words of a saint of old.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And I tell you they are by Gellert, of Leipzig, of whom your brother has
+told us; in fact, he was his tutor, and haven&rsquo;t you heard how pious and
+good he is?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t have believed that such men still lived, and so near
+us, too, as Leipzig.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, but those who lived a thousand years ago were also once living
+creatures: and over Leipzig is just the same heaven, and the same sun shines,
+and the same God rules, as over all other cities.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! yes, my brother has an apt pupil in you!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, and why not? I&rsquo;ve treasured up all he told us of Professor
+Gellert.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Professor!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, Professor!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A man with such a proud, new-fangled title couldn&rsquo;t write anything
+like that!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He didn&rsquo;t give himself the title, and he is poor enough withal!
+and how hard it has fared with him! Even from childhood he has been well
+acquainted with poverty: his father was a poor minister in Haynichen, with
+thirteen children; Gellert, when quite a little fellow, was obliged to be a
+copying office-clerk: who can tell whether he didn&rsquo;t then contract that
+physical weakness of his? And now that he&rsquo;s an old man, things will never
+go better with him; he has often no wood, and must be pinched with cold. It is
+with him, perhaps, as with that student of whom your brother has told us, who
+is as poor as a rat, and yet must read; and so in winter he lies in bed with an
+empty stomach, until day is far advanced; and he has his book before him, and
+first he takes out one hand to hold his book, and then, when that is numb with
+cold, the other. Ah! tongue cannot tell how poorly the man must live; and yet
+your brother has told me, if he has but a few pounds, he doesn&rsquo;t think at
+all of himself; he always looks out for one still poorer than he is, and then
+gives all away: and he&rsquo;s always engaged in aiding and assisting others.
+Oh! dear, and yet he is so poor! May be at this moment he is hungry and cold;
+and he is said to be in ill-health, besides.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wife, I would willingly do the man a good turn if I could. If, now, he
+had some land, I could plough, and sow, and reap, and carry, and thresh by the
+week together for him. I should like to pay him attention in such a way that he
+might know there was at least one who cared for him. But his profession is one
+in which I can&rsquo;t be of any use to him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, just seek him out and speak with him once; you are going to-day,
+you know, with your wood to Leipzig. Seek him out and thank him; that sort of
+thing does such a man&rsquo;s heart good. Anybody can see him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes; I should like much to see him, and hold out to him my
+hand,&mdash;but not empty: I wish I had something!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Speak to your brother, and get him to give you a note to him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no; say nothing to my brother; but it might be possible for me to
+meet him in the street. Give me my Sunday coat; it will come to no harm under
+my cloak.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When his wife brought him the coat, she said: &ldquo;If, now, Gellert had a
+wife, or a household of his own, one might send him something; but your brother
+says he is a bachelor, and lives quite alone.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Christopher had never before so cheerfully harnessed his horses and put them to
+his wood-laden wagon; for a long while he had not given his hand so gayly to
+his wife at parting as to-day. Now he started with his heavily-laden vehicle
+through the village; the wheels creaked and crackled in the snow. At the
+parsonage he stopped, and looked away yonder where his brother was still
+sleeping; he thought he would wake him and tell him his intention: but suddenly
+he whipped up his horses, and continued his route. He wouldn&rsquo;t yet bind
+himself to his intention&mdash;perchance it was but a passing thought; he
+doesn&rsquo;t own that to himself, but he says to himself that he will surprise
+his brother with the news of what he has done; and then his thoughts wandered
+away to the good man still sleeping yonder in the city; and he hummed the verse
+to himself in an old familiar tune.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Wonderfully in life do effects manifest themselves, of which we have no trace.
+Gellert, too, heard in his dreams a singing; he knew not what it was, but it
+rang so consolingly, so joyously! … Christopher drove on, and he felt as though
+a bandage had been taken from his eyes; he reflected what a nice house, what a
+bonny wife and rosy children he had, and how warm the cloak which he had thrown
+over him was, and how well off were both man and beast; and through the still
+night he drove along, and beside him sat a spirit; but not an illusion of the
+brain, such as in olden time men conjured up to their terror, a good spirit sat
+beside him&mdash;beside the woodman who his whole life long had never believed
+that anything could have power over him but what had hands and feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is said that, on troublous nights, evil spirits settle upon the necks of
+men, and belabor them so that they gasp and sweat for very terror; quite
+another sort it was to-day which sat by the woodman: and his heart was warm,
+and its beating quick.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In ancient times, men also carried loads of wood through the night, that
+heretics might be burned thereon: these men thought they were doing a good deed
+in helping to execute justice; and who can say how painful it was to their
+hearts, when they were forced to think: To-morrow, on this wood which now you
+carry, will shriek, and crackle, and gasp, a human being like yourself? Who can
+tell what black spirits settled on the necks of those who bore the wood to make
+the funeral-pile? How very different was it to-day with our woodman
+Christopher!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And earlier still, in ancient times, men brought wood to the temple, whereon
+they offered victims in the honor of God; and, according to their notions, they
+did a good deed: for when words can no longer suffice to express the fervency
+of the heart, it gladly offers what it prizes, what it dearly loves, as a proof
+of its devotion, of the earnestness of its intent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+How differently went Christopher from the Duben Forest upon his way! He knew
+not whether he were intending to bring a purer offering than men had brought in
+bygone ages; but his heart grew warm within him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was day as he arrived before the gates of Leipzig. Here there met him a
+funeral-procession; behind the bier the scholars of St. Thomas, in long black
+cloaks, were chanting. Christopher stopped and raised his hat. Whom were they
+burying? Supposing it were Gellert.&mdash;Yes, surely, he thought, it is he:
+and how gladly, said he to himself, would you now have done him a
+kindness&mdash;ay, even given him your wood! Yes, indeed you would, and now he
+is dead, and you cannot give him any help!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as the train had passed, Christopher asked who was being buried. It was
+a simple burgher, it was not Gellert; and in the deep breath which Christopher
+drew lay a double signification: on the one hand, was joy that Gellert was not
+dead; on the other, a still small voice whispered to him that he had now really
+promised to give him the wood: ah! but whom had he promised?&mdash;himself: and
+it is easy to argue with one&rsquo;s own conscience.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Superstition babbles of conjuring-spells, by which, without the co-operation of
+the patient, the evil spirit can be summarily ejected. It would be convenient
+if one had that power, but, in truth, it is not so: it is long ere the evil
+desire and the evil habit are removed from the soul into which they have
+nestled; and the will, for a long while in bondage, must co-operate, if a
+releasing spell from without is to set the prisoner free. One can only be
+guided, but himself must move his feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Christopher now looked about him, he found that he had stopped close by an
+inn; he drove his load a little aside, went into the parlor, and drank a glass
+of warmed beer. There was already a goodly company, and not far from
+Christopher sat a husbandman with his son, a student here, who was telling him
+how there had been lately quite a stir. Professor Gellert had been ill, and
+riding a well-trained horse had been recommended for his health. Now Prince
+Henry of Prussia, during the Seven Years&rsquo; War, at the occupation of
+Leipzig, had sent him a piebald, that had died a short time ago; and the
+Elector, hearing of it, had sent Gellert from Dresden another&mdash;a
+chestnut&mdash;with golden bridle, blue velvet saddle, and gold-embroidered
+housings. Half the city had assembled when the groom, a man with iron-gray
+hair, brought the horse; and for several days it was to be seen at the stable;
+but Gellert dared not mount it, it was so young and high-spirited. The rustic
+now asked his son whether the Professor did not make money enough to procure a
+horse of his own, to which the son answered: &ldquo;Certainly not. His salary
+is but one hundred and twenty-five dollars, and his further gains are
+inconsiderable. His Lectures on Morals he gives publicly, i.e., gratis, and he
+has hundreds of hearers; and, therefore, at his own lectures, which must be
+paid for, he has so many the fewer. To be sure, he has now and then presents
+from grand patrons; but no one gives him, once and for all, enough to live
+upon, and to have all over with a single acknowledgment.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our friend Christopher started as he heard this; he had quite made up his mind
+to take Gellert the wood: but he had yet to do it. How easy were virtue, if
+will and deed were the same thing! if performance could immediately succeed to
+the moment of burning enthusiasm! But one must make way over obstacles; over
+those that outwardly lie in one&rsquo;s path, and over those that are hidden
+deep in the heart; and negligence has a thousand very cunning advocates.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+How many go forth, prompted by good intentions, but let little hindrances turn
+them from their way&mdash;entirely from their way of life! In front of the
+house Christopher met other woodmen whom he knew, and&mdash;&ldquo;You are
+stirring betimes!&rdquo; &ldquo;Prices are good to-day!&rdquo; &ldquo;But
+little comes to the market now!&rdquo; was the cry from all sides. Christopher
+wanted to say that all that didn&rsquo;t concern him, but he was ashamed to
+confess that his design was, and an inward voice told him he must not lie.
+Without answering he joined the rest, and wended his way to the market; and on
+the road he thought: &ldquo;There are Peter, and Godfrey, and John, who have
+seven times your means, and not one of them, I&rsquo;m sure, would think of
+doing anything of this kind; why will you be the kind-hearted fool? Stay! what
+matters it what others do or leave undone? Every man shall answer for himself.
+Yes, but go to market&mdash;it is better it should be so; yes, certainly, much
+better: sell your wood&mdash;who knows? perhaps he doesn&rsquo;t want
+it&mdash;and take him the proceeds, or at least the greater portion. But is the
+wood still yours? You have, properly speaking, already given it away; it has
+only not been taken from your keeping….&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There are people who cannot give; they can only let a thing be taken either by
+the hand of chance, or by urgency and entreaty. Christopher had such fast hold
+of possession, that it was only after sore wrestling that he let go; and yet
+his heart was kind, at least to-day it was so disposed, but the tempter
+whispered: &ldquo;It is not easy to find so good-natured a fellow as you. How
+readily would you have given, had the man been in want, and your good intention
+must go for the deed.&rdquo; Still, on the other hand, there was something in
+him which made opposition,&mdash;an echo from those hours, when, in the still
+night, he was driving hither,&mdash;and it burned in him like sacred fire, and
+it said, &ldquo;You must now accomplish what you intended. Certainly no one
+knows of it, and you are responsible to no one; but you know of it yourself,
+and One above you knows, and how shall you be justified?&rdquo; And he said to
+himself, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll stand by this: look, it is just nine; if no one ask
+the price of your wood until ten o&rsquo;clock, until the stroke of
+ten,&mdash;until it has done striking, I mean; if no one ask, then the wood
+belongs to Professor Gellert: but if a buyer come, then it is a sign that you
+need not&mdash;should not give it away. There, that&rsquo;s all settled. But
+how? what means this? Can you make your good deed dependent on such a chance as
+this? No, no; I don&rsquo;t mean it. But yet&mdash;yet&mdash;only for a joke,
+I&rsquo;ll try it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Temptation kept him turning as it were in a circle, and still he stood with an
+apparently quiet heart by his wagon in the market. The people who heard him
+muttering in this way to himself looked at him with wonder, and passed by him
+to another wagon, as though he had not been there. It struck nine. Can you wait
+patiently another hour? Christopher lighted his pipe, and looked calmly on,
+while this and that load was driven off. It struck the quarter, half-hour,
+three-quarters. Christopher now put his pipe in his pocket; it had long been
+cold, and his hands were almost frozen; all his blood had rushed to his heart.
+Now it struck the full hour, stroke after stroke. At first he counted; then he
+fancied he had lost a stroke and miscalculated. Either voluntarily or
+involuntarily, he said to himself, when it had finished striking,
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re wrong; it is nine, not ten.&rdquo; He turned round that he
+might not see the dial, and thus he stood for some time, with his hands upon
+the wagon-rack, gazing at the wood. He knew not how long he had been thus
+standing, when some one tapped him on the shoulder, and said, &ldquo;How much
+for the load of wood?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Christopher turned round: there was an odd look of irresolution in his eyes as
+he said: &ldquo;Eh? eh? what time is it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Half-past ten.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then the wood is now no longer mine&mdash;at least to sell:&rdquo; and,
+collecting himself, he became suddenly warm, and with firm hand turned his
+horses round, and begged the woodmen who accompanied him to point him out the
+way to the house with the &ldquo;Schwarz Brett,&rdquo; Dr. Junius&rsquo;s.
+There he delivered a full load: at each log he took out of the wagon he smiled
+oddly. The wood-measurer measured the wood carefully, turning each log and
+placing it exactly, that there might not be a crevice anywhere.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why are you so over-particular to-day, pray?&rdquo; asked Christopher,
+and he received for answer:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Professor Gellert must have a fair load; every shaving kept back from
+him were a sin.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Christopher laughed aloud, and the wood-measurer looked at him with amazement;
+for such particularity generally provoked a quarrel. Christopher had still some
+logs over; these he kept by him on the wagon. At this moment the servant Sauer
+came up, and asked to whom the wood belonged.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;To Professor Gellert,&rdquo; answered Christopher.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The man&rsquo;s mad! it isn&rsquo;t true. Professor Gellert has not
+bought any wood; it is my business to look after that.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has not bought it, and yet it is his!&rdquo; cried Christopher.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sauer was on the point of giving the mad peasant a hearty scolding, raising his
+voice so much the louder, as it was striking eleven by St. Nicholas. At this
+moment, however, he became suddenly mute; for yonder from the University there
+came, with tired gait, a man of a noble countenance: at every step he made, on
+this side and on that, off came the hats and the caps of the passers-by, and
+Sauer simply called out, &ldquo;There comes the Professor himself.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What a peculiar expression passed over Christopher&rsquo;s face! He looked at
+the new-comer, and so earnest was his gaze, that Gellert, who always walked
+with his head bowed, suddenly looked up. Christopher said: &ldquo;Mr. Gellert,
+I am glad to see you still alive.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I thank you,&rdquo; said Gellert, and made as though he would pass on;
+but Christopher stepped up closer to him, and, stretching out his hand to him,
+said: &ldquo;I have taken the liberty&mdash;I should like&mdash;will you give
+me your hand, Mr. Gellert?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gellert drew his long thin hand out of his muff and placed it in the hard
+oaken-like hand of the peasant; and at this moment, when the peasant&rsquo;s
+hand lay in the scholar&rsquo;s palm, as one felt the other&rsquo;s pressure in
+actual living grasp, there took place, though the mortal actors in the scene
+were all unconscious of it, a renewal of that healthy life which alone can make
+a people one.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+How long had the learned world, wrapped up in itself, separated from the
+fellow-men around, thought in Latin, felt as foreigners, and lived buried in
+contemplation of bygone worlds! From the time of Gellert commences the
+ever-increasing unity of good-fellowship throughout all classes of life, kept
+up by mutual giving and receiving. As the scholar&mdash;as the solitary poet
+endeavors to work upon others by lays that quicken and songs that incite, so he
+in his turn is a debtor to his age, and the lonely thinking and writing become
+the property of all; but the effects are not seen in a moment; for higher than
+the most highly gifted spirit of any single man is the spirit of a nation. With
+the pressure which Gellert and the peasant exchanged commenced a mighty change
+in universal life, which never more can cease to act.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Permit me to enter your room?&rdquo; said Christopher, and Gellert
+nodded assent. He was so courteous that he motioned to the peasant to enter
+first; however, Sauer went close after him: he thought it must be a madman; he
+must protect his master; the man looked just as if he were drunk. Gellert, with
+his amanuensis, Gödike, followed them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gellert, however, felt that the man must be actuated by pure motives: he bade
+the others retire, and took Christopher alone into his study; and, as he
+clasped his left with his own right hand, he asked: &ldquo;Well, my good
+friend, what is your business?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Eh? oh! nothing&mdash;I&rsquo;ve only brought you a load of wood
+there&mdash;a fair, full load; however, I&rsquo;ll give you the few logs which
+I have in my wagon, as well.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My good man, my servant Sauer looks after buying my wood.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It is no question of buying. No, my dear sir, I give it to you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Give it to me? Why me particularly?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh! sir, you do not know at all what good you do, what good you have
+done me; and my wife was right; why should there not be really pious men in our
+day too? Surely the sun still shines as he shone thousands of years ago; all is
+now the same as then; and the God of old is still living.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Certainly, certainly; I am glad to see you so pious.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah! believe me, dear sir, I am not always so pious; and that I am so
+disposed today is owing to you. We have no more confessionals now, but I can
+confess to you: and you have taken a heavier load from my heart than a
+wagon-load of wood. Oh! sir, I am not what I was. In my early days I was a
+high-spirited, merry lad, and out in the field, and indoors in the inn and the
+spinning-room, there was none who could sing against me; but that is long past.
+What has a man on whose head the grave-blossoms are growing,&rdquo; and he
+pointed to his gray head, &ldquo;to do with all that trash? And besides, the
+Seven Years&rsquo; War has put a stop to all our singing. But last night, in
+the midst of the fearful cold, I sang a lay set expressly for me&mdash;all old
+tunes go to it: and it seemed to me as though I saw a sign-post which pointed I
+know not whither&mdash;or, nay, I do know whither.&rdquo; And now the peasant
+related how discontented and unhappy in mind he had been, and how the words in
+the lay had all at once raised his spirits and accompanied him upon the
+journey, like a good fellow who talks to one cheerfully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this part of the peasant&rsquo;s tale Gellert folded his hands in silence,
+and the peasant concluded: &ldquo;How I always envied others, I cannot now
+think why; but you I do envy, sir: I should like to be as you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Gellert answered: &ldquo;I thank God, and rejoice greatly that my writings
+have been of service to you. Think not so well of me. Would God I were really
+the good man I appear in your eyes! I am far from being such as I should, such
+as I would fain be. I write my books for my own improvement also, to show
+myself as well as others what manner of men we should be.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Laughing, the peasant replied: &ldquo;You put me in mind of the story my poor
+mother used to tell of the old minister; he stood up once in the pulpit and
+said: &lsquo;My dear friends, I speak not only for you, but for myself also; I,
+too, have need of it.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Christopher laughed outrageously when he had finished, and Gellert smiled, and
+said: &ldquo;Yes, whoever in the darkness lighteth another with a lamp,
+lighteth himself also; and the light is not part of ourselves,&mdash;it is put
+into our hands by Him who hath appointed the suns their courses.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peasant stood speechless, and looked upon the ground: there was something
+within him which took away the power of looking up; he was only conscious that
+it ill became him to laugh so loudly just now, when he told the story of the
+old minister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A longer pause ensued, and Gellert seemed to be lost in reflection upon this
+reference to a minister&rsquo;s work, for he said half to himself: &ldquo;Oh!
+how would it fulfil my dearest wish to be a village-pastor! To move about among
+my people, and really be one with them; the friend of their souls my whole life
+long, never to lose them out of my sight! Yonder goes one whom I have led into
+the right way; there another, with whom I still wrestle, but whom I shall
+assuredly save; and in them all the teaching lives which God proclaims by me.
+Did I not think that I should be acting against my duty, I would this moment
+choose a country life for the remnant of my days. When I look from my window
+over the country, I have before me the broad sky, of which we citizens know but
+little, a scene entirely new; there I stand and lose myself for half an hour in
+gazing and in thinking. Yes, good friend, envy no man in the rank of scholars.
+Look at me; I am almost always ill; and what a burden is a sickly body! How
+strong, on the contrary, are you! I am never happier than when, without being
+remarked, I can watch a dinner-table thronged by hungry men and maids. Even if
+these folks be not generally so happy as their superiors, at table they are
+certainly happier.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; we relish our eating and drinking. And, lately, when felling
+and sorting that wood below, I was more than usually lively; it seems as though
+I had a notion I was to do some good with it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And must I permit you to make me a present?&rdquo; asked Gellert,
+resting his chin upon his left hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peasant answered: &ldquo;It is not worth talking about.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay, it might be well worth talking about; but I accept your present. It
+is pride not to be ready to accept a gift. Is not all we have a gift from God?
+And what one man gives another, he gives, as is most appropriately said, for
+God&rsquo;s sake. Were I your minister, I should be pleased to accept a present
+from you. You see, good friend, we men have no occasion to thank each other.
+You have given me nothing of yours, and I have given you nothing of mine. That
+the trees grow in the forest is none of your doing, it is the work of the
+Creator and Preserver of the world; and the soil is not yours; and the sun and
+the rain are not yours; they all are the works of His hand; and if, perchance,
+I have some healthy thoughts rising up in my soul, which benefit my fellow-men,
+it is none of mine, it is His doing. The word is not mine, and the spirit is
+not mine; and I am but an instrument in His hand. Therefore one man needs not
+to utter words of thanks to his fellow, if every one would but acknowledge who
+it really is that gives.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peasant looked up in astonishment. Gellert remarked it, and said:
+&ldquo;Understand me aright. I thank you from my heart; you have done a kind
+action. But that the trees grow is none of yours, and it is none of mine that
+thoughts arise in me; every one simply tills his field, and tends his woodland,
+and the honest, assiduous toil he gives thereto is his virtue. That you felled,
+loaded, and brought the wood, and wish no recompense for your labor, is very
+thank-worthy. My wood was more easily felled; but those still nights which I
+and all of my calling pass in heavy thought&mdash;who can tell what toil there
+is in them? There is in the world an adjustment which no one sees, and which
+but seldom discovers itself; and this and that shift thither and hither, and
+the scales of the balance become even, and then ceases all distinction between
+&lsquo;mine&rsquo; and &lsquo;thine,&rsquo; and in the still forest rings an
+axe for me, and in the silent night my spirit thinks and my pen writes for
+you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peasant passed both his hands over his temples, and his look was as though
+he said to himself, &ldquo;Where are you? Are you still in the world? Is it a
+mortal man who speaks to you? Are you in Leipzig, in that populous city where
+men jostle one another for gain and bare existence?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Below might be heard the creaking of the saw as the wood was being sundered:
+and now the near horse neighs, and Christopher is in the world again. &ldquo;It
+may injure the horse to stand so long in the cold; and no money for the wood!
+but perhaps a sick horse to take home into the bargain; that would be too
+much,&rdquo; he thought.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes, Mr. Professor,&rdquo; said he&mdash;he had his hat under his
+arm, and was rubbing his hands&mdash;&ldquo;yes, I am delighted with what I
+have done; and I value the lesson, believe me, more than ten loads of wood: and
+never shall I forget you to my dying day. And though I see you are not so poor
+as I had imagined, still I don&rsquo;t regret it. Oh! no, certainly not at
+all.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Eh! did you think me so very poor, then?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, miserably poor.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have always been poor, but God has never suffered me to be a single
+day without necessaries. I have in the world much happiness which I have not
+deserved, and much unhappiness I have not, which perchance I have deserved. I
+have found much favor with both high and low, for which I cannot sufficiently
+thank God. And now tell me, cannot I give you something, or obtain something
+for you? You are a local magistrate, I presume?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why so?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You look like it: you might be.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Christopher had taken his hat into his hands, and was crumpling it up now; he
+half closed his eyes, and with a sly, inquiring glance, he peered at Gellert.
+Suddenly, however, the expression of his face changed, and the muscles
+quivered, as he said: &ldquo;Sir, what a man are you! How you can dive into the
+recesses of one&rsquo;s heart! I have really pined night and day, and been
+cross with the whole world, because I could not be magistrate, and you, sir,
+you have actually helped to overcome that in me. Oh! sir, as soon as I read
+that verse in your book, I had an idea, and now I see still more plainly that
+you must be a man of God, who can pluck the heart from one&rsquo;s bosom, and
+turn it round and round. I had thought I could never have another
+moment&rsquo;s happiness, if my neighbor, Hans Gottlieb, should be magistrate:
+and with that verse of yours, it has been with me as when one calms the blood
+with a magic spell.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, my good friend, I am rejoiced to hear it: believe me, every one
+has in himself alone a whole host to govern. What can so strongly urge men to
+wish to govern others? What can it profit you to be local magistrate, when to
+accomplish your object you must perhaps do something wrong? What were the fame,
+not only of a village, but even of the whole world, if you could have no
+self-respect? Let it suffice for you to perform your daily duties with
+uprightness; let your joys be centred in your wife and children, and you will
+be happy. What need you more? Think not that honor and station would make you
+happy. Rejoice, and again I say, rejoice: &lsquo;A contented spirit is a
+continual feast.&rsquo; I often whisper this to myself, when I feel disposed to
+give way to dejection: and although misery be not our fault, yet lack of
+endurance and of patience in misery is undoubtedly our fault.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would my wife were here too, that she also might hear this; I grudge
+myself the hearing of it all alone; I cannot remember it all properly, and yet
+I should like to tell it to her word for word. Who would have thought that, by
+standing upon a load of wood, one could get a peep into heaven!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gellert in silence bowed his head; and afterwards he said: &ldquo;Yes, rejoice
+in your deed, as I do in your gift. Your wood is sacrificial-wood. In olden
+time&mdash;and it was right in principle, because man could not yet offer
+prayer and thanks in spirit&mdash;it was a custom and ordinance to bring
+something from one&rsquo;s possessions, as a proof of devotion: this was a
+sacrifice. And the more important the gift to be given, or the request to be
+granted, the more costly was the sacrifice. Our God will have no victims; but
+whatsoever you do unto one of the least of His, you do unto Him. Such are our
+sacrifices. My dear friend, from my heart I thank you; for you have done me a
+kindness, in that you have given me a real, undeniable proof, that my words
+have penetrated your heart, and that I do not live on for nothing: and treasure
+it up in your heart, that you have caused real joy to one who is often, very
+often, weighed down with heaviness and sorrow. You have not only kindled bright
+tapers upon my Christmas-tree, but the tree itself burns, gives light, and
+warms: the bush burns, and is not consumed, which is an image of the presence
+of the Holy Spirit, and its admonition to trust in the Most High in this
+wilderness of life, in mourning and in woe. Oh! my dear friend, I have been
+nigh unto death. What a solemn, quaking stride is the stride into eternity!
+What a difference between ideas of death in the days of health, and on the
+brink of the grave! And how shall I show myself worthy of longer life? By
+learning better to die. And, mark, when I sit here in solitude pursuing my
+thoughts, keeping some and driving away others, then I can think, that in
+distant valleys, upon distant mountains, there are living men who carry my
+thoughts within their hearts; and for them I live, and they are near and dear
+to me, till one day we shall meet where there is no more parting, no more
+separation. Peasant and scholar, let us abide as we are. Give me your
+hand&mdash;farewell!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And once again, the soft and the hard hand were clasped together, and
+Christopher really trembled as Gellert laid his hand upon his shoulder. They
+shook hands, and therewith something touched the heart of each more
+impressively, more completely, than ever words could touch it. Christopher got
+downstairs without knowing how: below, he threw down the extra logs of wood,
+which he had kept back, with a clatter from the wagon, and then drove briskly
+from the city. Not till he arrived at Lindenthal did he allow himself and his
+horses rest or food. He had driven away empty: he had nothing on his wagon,
+nothing in his purse; and yet who can tell what treasures he took home; and who
+can tell what inextinguishable fire he left behind him yonder, by that lonely
+scholar!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gellert, who usually dined at his brother&rsquo;s, today had dinner brought
+into his own room, remained quite alone, and did not go out again: he had
+experienced quite enough excitement, and society he had in his own thoughts.
+Oh! to find that there are open, susceptible hearts, is a blessing to him that
+writes in solitude, and is as wondrous to him as though he dipped his pen in
+streams of sunshine, and as if all he wrote were Light. The raindrop which
+falls from the cloud cannot tell upon what plant it drops: there is a
+quickening power in it, but for what? And a thought which finds expression from
+a human heart; an action, nay, a whole life is like the raindrop falling from
+the cloud: the whole period of a life endures no longer than the raindrop needs
+for falling. And as for knowing where your life is continued, how your work
+proceeds, you cannot attain to that.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And in the night all was still around: nothing was astir; the whole earth was
+simple rest, as Gellert sat in his room by his lonely lamp; his hand lay upon
+an open book, and his eyes were fixed upon the empty air; and on a sudden came
+once more upon him that melancholy gloom, which so easily resumes its place
+after more than usual excitement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is as though the soul, suddenly elevated above all, must still remember the
+heaviness it but now experienced, though that expresses itself as tears of joy
+in the eye.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In Gellert, however, this melancholy had a more peculiar phase: a sort of
+timidity had rooted itself in him, connected with his weak chest, and that
+secret gnawing pain in his head; it was a fearfulness which his manner of life
+only tended to increase. Surrounded though he was by nothing but love and
+admiration in the world, he could not divest himself of the fear that all which
+is most horrible and terrible would burst suddenly upon him: and so he gazed
+fixedly before him. He passed his hand over his face, and with an effort
+concentrated his looks and thoughts upon surrounding objects, saying to himself
+almost aloud: &ldquo;How comforting is light! Were there no light from without
+to illumine objects for us, we should perish in gloom, in the shadows of night.
+And light is a gentle friend that watches by us, and, when we are sunk in
+sorrow, points out to us that the world is still here, that it calls, and
+beckons us, and requires of us duty and cheerfulness. &lsquo;You must not be
+lost in self,&rsquo; it says, &lsquo;see! the world is still here:&rsquo; and a
+friend beside us is as a light which illumines surrounding objects; we cannot
+forget them, we must see them and mingle with them. How hard is life, and how
+little I accomplish! I would fain awaken the whole world to goodness and to
+love; but my voice is weak, my strength is insufficient: how insignificant is
+all I do!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now he rose up and strode across the room; and he stood at the hearth where
+the fire was burning, made of wood given to him that very day, and his thoughts
+reverted to the man who had given it. Why had he not asked his name, and where
+he came from? Perchance he might have been able in thought to follow him all
+the way, as he drove home; and now … but yet &rsquo;tis more, &rsquo;tis better
+as it is: it is not an individual, it is not So-and-so, who has shown his
+gratitude, but all the world by the mouth of one. &ldquo;The kindnesses I
+receive,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;are indeed trials; but yet I ought to accept
+them with thanks. I will try henceforth to be a benefactor to others as others
+are to me, without display, and with grateful thanks to God, our highest
+Benefactor: this will I do, and search no further for the why and for the
+wherefore.&rdquo; And once more a voice spoke within him, and he stood erect,
+and raised his arms on high. &ldquo;Who knows,&rdquo; he thought,
+&ldquo;whether at this moment I have not been in this or that place, to this or
+that man, a brother, a friend, a comforter, a saviour; and from house to house,
+may be, my spirit travels, awakening, enlivening, refreshing&mdash;yonder in
+the attic, where burns a solitary light; and afar in some village a mother is
+sitting by her child, and hearing him repeat the thoughts I have arranged in
+verse; and peradventure some solitary old man, who is waiting for death, is now
+sitting by his fireside, and his lips are uttering my words.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And yonder in the church, the choir is chanting a hymn of yours; could
+you have written this hymn without its vigor in your heart? Oh! no, it MUST be
+there.&rdquo; And with trembling he thought: &ldquo;There is nothing so small
+as to have no place in the government of God! Should you not then believe that
+He suffered this day&rsquo;s incident to happen for your joy? Oh! were it so,
+what happiness were yours! A heart renewed.&rdquo; … He moved to the window,
+looked up to heaven, and prayed inwardly: &ldquo;My soul is with my brothers
+and my sisters: nay, it is with Thee, my God, and in humility I acknowledge how
+richly Thou hast blessed me. And if, in the kingdom of the world to come, a
+soul should cry to me: &lsquo;Thou didst guide and cheer me on to happiness
+eternal!&rsquo; all hail! my friend, my benefactor, my glory in the presence of
+God. … In these thoughts let me die, and pardon me my weakness and my
+sins!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And the evening and morning were the first day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At early morning, Gellert was sitting at his table, and reading according to
+his invariable custom, first of all in the Bible. He never left the Bible
+open&mdash;he always shut it with a peaceful, devotional air, after he had read
+therein: there was something grateful as well as reverential in his manner of
+closing the volume; the holy words should not lie uncovered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To-day, however, the Bible was lying open when he rose. His eye fell upon the
+history of the creation, and at the words, &ldquo;And the evening and the
+morning were the first day,&rdquo; he leaned back his head against the
+arm-chair, and kept his hand upon the book, as though he would grasp with his
+hand also the lofty thought, how night and day were divided.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a long while he sat thus, and he was wondrously bright in spirit, and a
+soft reminiscence dawned upon him; of a bright day in childhood, when he had
+been so happy, and in Haynichen, his native place, had gone out with his father
+for a walk. An inward warmth roused his heart to quicker pulsation; and
+suddenly he started and looked about him: he had been humming a tune.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Up from the street came the busy sound of Jay: at other times how insufferable
+he had found it! and now how joyous it seemed that men should bestir
+themselves, and turn to all sorts of occupations! There was a sound of
+crumbling snow: and how nice to have a house and a blaze upon the hearth!
+&ldquo;And the evening and the morning were the first day!&rdquo; And man
+getteth himself a light in the darkness: but how long, O man! could you make it
+endure? What could you do with your artificial light, if God did not cause His
+sun to shine? Without it grows no grass, no corn. On the hand lying upon the
+book there fell a bright sunbeam. How soon, at other times, would Gellert have
+drawn the defensive curtain! Now he watches the little motes that play about in
+the sunbeam.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The servant brought coffee, and the amanuensis, Gödike, asked if there were
+anything to do. Generally, Gellert scarce lifted his head from his books,
+hastily acknowledging the attention and reading on in silence; to-day, he
+motioned to Gödike to stay, and said to Sauer, &ldquo;Another cup: Mr. Gödike
+will take coffee with me. God has given me a day of rejoicing.&rdquo; Sauer
+brought the cup, and Gellert said: &ldquo;Yes, God has given me a day of
+rejoicing, and what I am most thankful for is, that He has granted me strength
+to thank Him with all my heart: not so entirely, however, as I should
+like.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank God, Mr. Professor, that you are once more in health, and
+cheerful: and permit me, Mr. Professor, to tell you that I was myself also ill
+a short time ago, and I then learned a lesson which I shall never forget. Who
+is most grateful? The convalescent. He learns to love God and His beautiful
+world anew; he is grateful for everything, and delighted with everything. What
+a flavor has his first cup of coffee! How he enjoys his first walk outside the
+house, outside the gate! The houses, the trees, all give us greeting: all is
+again in us full of health and joy!&rdquo; So said Gödike, and Gellert
+rejoined:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You are a good creature, and have just spoken good words. Certainly, the
+convalescent is the most grateful. We are, however, for the most part, sick in
+spirit, and have not strength to recover: and a sickly, stricken spirit is the
+heaviest pain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Long time the two sat quietly together: it struck eight. Gellert started up,
+and cried irritably: &ldquo;There, now, you have allowed me to forget that I
+must be on my way to the University.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The vacation has begun: Mr. Professor has no lecture to-day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No lecture to-day? Ah! and I believe today is just the time when I could
+have told my young friends something that would have benefited them for their
+whole lives.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a shuffling of many feet outside the door: the door opened, and
+several boys from St Thomas&rsquo; School-choir advanced and sang to Gellert
+some of his own hymns; and as they chanted the verse&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;And haply there&mdash;oh! grant it, Heaven!<br/>
+    Some blessed saint will greet me too;<br/>
+&lsquo;All hail! all hail! to you was given<br/>
+    To save my life and soul, to you!&rsquo;<br/>
+O God! my God! what joy to be<br/>
+The winner of a soul to thee!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gellert wept aloud, folded his hands, and raised his eyes to heaven.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A happier Christmas than that of 1768 had Gellert never seen; and it was his
+last. Scarcely a year after, on the 13th of December, 1769, Gellert died a
+pious, tranquil death, such as he had ever coveted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the long train which followed his bier moved to the churchyard of St.
+John&rsquo;s, Leipzig, a peasant with his wife and children in holiday clothes
+entered among the last. It was Christopher with his family. The whole way he
+had been silent: and whilst his wife wept passionately at the pastor&rsquo;s
+touching address, it was only by the working of his features that Christopher
+showed how deeply moved he was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But on the way home he said: &ldquo;I am glad I did him a kindness in his
+lifetime; it would now be too late.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The summer after, when he built a new house, he had this verse placed upon it
+as an inscription:
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Accept God&rsquo;s gifts with resignation,<br/>
+    Content to lack what thou hast not:<br/>
+In every lot there&rsquo;s consolation;<br/>
+    There&rsquo;s trouble, too, in every lot.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap02"></a>A GHETTO VIOLET</h2>
+
+<h5>BY LEOPOLD KOMPERT</h5>
+
+<p class="center">
+From &ldquo;Christian and Leah.&rdquo; Translated by A.S. Arnold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Through the open window came the clear trill of a canary singing blithely in
+its cage. Within the tidy, homely little room a pale-faced girl and a youth of
+slender frame listened intently while the bird sang its song. The girl was the
+first to break the silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim, my brother!&rdquo; she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What is it, dear Viola?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder does the birdie know that it is the Sabbath to-day?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What a child you are!&rdquo; answered Ephraim.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s always the way; when you clever men can&rsquo;t
+explain a thing, you simply dismiss the question by calling it childish,&rdquo;
+Viola exclaimed, as though quite angry. &ldquo;And, pray, why shouldn&rsquo;t
+the bird know? The whole week it scarcely sang a note: to-day it warbles and
+warbles so that it makes my head ache. And what&rsquo;s the reason? Every
+Sabbath it&rsquo;s just the same, I notice it regularly. Shall I tell you what
+my idea is?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The whole week long the little bird looks into our room and sees nothing
+but the humdrum of work-a-day life. To-day it sees the bright rays of the
+Sabbath lamp and the white Sabbath cloth upon the table. Don&rsquo;t you think
+I&rsquo;m right, Ephraim?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Wait, dear Viola,&rdquo; said Ephraim, and he went to the cage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bird&rsquo;s song suddenly ceased.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now you&rsquo;ve spoilt its Sabbath!&rdquo; cried the girl, and she was
+so excited that the book which had been lying upon her lap fell to the ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ephraim turned towards her; he looked at her solemnly, and said quietly:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pick up your prayer-book first, and then I&rsquo;ll answer. A holy book
+should not be on the ground like that. Had our mother dropped her prayer-book,
+she would have kissed it … Kiss it, Viola, my child!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Viola did so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now I&rsquo;ll tell you, dear Viola, what I think is the reason why
+the bird sings so blithely to-day … Of course, I don&rsquo;t say I&rsquo;m
+right.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Viola&rsquo;s brown eyes were fixed inquiringly upon her brother&rsquo;s face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;How seriously you talk to-day,&rdquo; she said, making a feeble attempt
+at a smile. &ldquo;I was only joking. Mustn&rsquo;t I ask if the bird knows
+anything about the Sabbath?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There are subjects it is sinful to joke about, and this may be one of
+them, Viola.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You really quite frighten me, Ephraim.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You little goose, I don&rsquo;t want to frighten you,&rdquo; said
+Ephraim, while a faint flush suffused his features. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you
+my opinion about the singing of the bird. I think, dear Viola, that our little
+canary knows … that before long it will change its quarters.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;re surely not going to sell it or give it away?&rdquo; cried
+the girl, in great alarm; and springing to her feet, she quickly drew her
+brother away from the cage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, I&rsquo;m not going to sell it nor give it away,&rdquo; said
+Ephraim, whose quiet bearing contrasted strongly with his sister&rsquo;s
+excitement. &ldquo;Is it likely that I should do anything that would give you
+pain? And yet, I have but to say one word … and I&rsquo;ll wager that you will
+be the first to open the cage and say to the bird, &lsquo;Fly, fly away,
+birdie, fly away home!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never, never!&rdquo; cried the girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Viola,&rdquo; said Ephraim beseechingly, &ldquo;I have taken a vow.
+Surely you would not have me break it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A vow?&rdquo; asked his sister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Viola,&rdquo; Ephraim continued, as he bent his head down to the
+girl&rsquo;s face, &ldquo;I have vowed to myself that whenever he … our father
+… should return, I would give our little bird its freedom. It shall be free,
+free as he will be.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is coming&mdash;he is already on his way home.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Viola flung her arms round her brother&rsquo;s neck. For a long time brother
+and sister remained locked in a close embrace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile the bird resumed its jubilant song.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you hear how it sings again?&rdquo; said Ephraim; and he gently
+stroked his sister&rsquo;s hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It knows that it will soon be free.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A father out of jail!&rdquo; sobbed Viola, as she released herself from
+her brother&rsquo;s arms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has had his punishment, dear Viola!&rdquo; said Ephraim softly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Viola turned away. There was a painful silence, and then she looked up at her
+brother again. Her face was aglow, her eyes sparkled with a strange fire; she
+was trembling with agitation. Never before had Ephraim seen her thus.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim, my brother,&rdquo; she commenced, in that measured monotone so
+peculiar to intense emotion, &ldquo;with the bird you can do as you please. You
+can set it free, or, if you like, you can wring its neck. But as for him,
+I&rsquo;ll never look in his face again, from me he shall not have a word of
+welcome. He broke our mother&rsquo;s heart … our good, good mother; he has
+dishonored himself and us. And I can never forget it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is it right for a child to talk like that of her own father?&rdquo; said
+Ephraim in a tremulous voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;When a child has good cause to be ashamed of her own father!&rdquo;
+cried Viola.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my Viola, you must have forgotten dear mother&rsquo;s dying words.
+Don&rsquo;t you remember, as she opened her eyes for the last time, how she
+gathered up her failing strength, and raising herself in her bed,
+&lsquo;Children,&rsquo; she said, &lsquo;my memory will protect you both, yea,
+and your father too.&rsquo; Viola, have you forgotten?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Had you entered that little room an hour later, a touching sight would have met
+your eyes. Viola was seated on her brother&rsquo;s knee, her arms round his
+neck, whilst Ephraim with the gentle love of a brother for a younger sister,
+was stroking her hair, and whispering in her ear sweet words of solace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bird-cage was empty. … That evening Ephraim sat up till midnight. Outside
+in the Ghetto reigned the stillness of night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All at once Ephraim rose from his chair, walked to the old bureau which stood
+near the door, opened it, and took from it a bulky volume, which he laid upon
+the table in front of him. But he did not seem at all bent upon reading. He
+began fingering the pages, until he came upon a bundle of bank-notes, and these
+he proceeded to count, with a whispering movement of his lips. He had but three
+or four more notes still to count, when his sharp ear detected the sound of
+stealthy footsteps, in the little courtyard in front of the house. Closing the
+book, and hastily putting it back again in the old bureau, Ephraim sprang to
+the window and opened it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Is that you, father?&rdquo; he cried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ephraim repeated his question.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He strained his eyes, peering into the dense darkness, but no living thing
+could he see. Then quite close to him a voice cried: &ldquo;Make no noise … and
+first put out the light.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Heavens! Father, it is you then…!&rdquo; Ephraim exclaimed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; came in a whisper from without, &ldquo;first put out the
+light.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ephraim closed the window, and extinguished the light. Then, with almost
+inaudible step, he walked out of the room into the dark passage; noiselessly he
+proceeded to unbolt the street-door. Almost at the same moment a heavy hand
+clasped his own.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father, father!&rdquo; Ephraim cried, trying to raise his parent&rsquo;s
+hand to his lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Make no noise,&rdquo; the man repeated, in a somewhat commanding tone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With his father&rsquo;s hand in his, cautiously feeling his way, Ephraim led
+him into the room. In the room adjoining lay Viola, sleeping peacefully. …
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Time was when &ldquo;Wild&rdquo; Ascher&rsquo;s welcome home had been far
+otherwise. Eighteen years before, upon that very threshold which he now crossed
+with halting, stealthy steps, as of a thief in the night, stood a fair and
+loving wife, holding a sturdy lad aloft in her arms, so that the father might
+at once see, as he turned the street corner, that wife and child were well and
+happy. Not another Ghetto in all Bohemia could show a handsomer and happier
+couple than Ascher and his wife. &ldquo;Wild&rdquo; Ascher was one of those
+intrepid, venturesome spirits, to whom no obstacle is so great that it cannot
+be surmounted. And the success which crowned his long, persistent wooing was
+often cited as striking testimony to his indomitable will. Gudule was famous
+throughout the Ghetto as &ldquo;the girl with the wonderful eyes,&rdquo;
+eyes&mdash;so the saying ran&mdash;into which no man could look and think of
+evil. During the earlier years of their married life those unfathomable brown
+eyes exercised on Ascher the full power of their fascination. A time came,
+however, when he alleged that those very eyes had been the cause of all his
+ruin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gudule&rsquo;s birthplace was far removed from the Ghetto, where Ascher had
+first seen the light. Her father was a wealthy farmer in a secluded village in
+Lower Bohemia. But distant though it was from the nearest town of any
+importance, the solitary grange became the centre of attraction to all the
+young swains far and near. But there was none who found favor in Gudule&rsquo;s
+eyes save &ldquo;Wild Ascher,&rdquo; in spite of many a friendly warning to
+beware of him. One day, just before the betrothal of the young people, an
+anonymous letter was delivered at the grange. The writer, who called himself an
+old friend, entreated the farmer to prevent his dear child from becoming the
+wife of one who was suspected of being a gambler. The farmer was of an
+easy-going, indulgent nature, shunning care and anxiety as a very plague.
+Accordingly, no sooner had he read the anonymous missive than he handed it to
+his daughter, as though its contents were no concern of his.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Gudule had read the letter to the end, she merely remarked: &ldquo;Father,
+this concerns me, and nobody else.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And so the matter dropped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not until the wedding-day, half an hour before the ceremony, when the marriage
+canopy had already been erected in the courtyard, did the farmer sum up courage
+to revert to the warning of the unknown letter-writer. Taking his future
+son-in-law aside, he said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ascher, is it true that you gamble?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father,&rdquo; Ascher answered with equal firmness,
+&ldquo;Gudule&rsquo;s eyes will save me!&rdquo; Ascher had uttered no untruth
+when he gave his father-in-law this assurance. He spoke in all earnestness, for
+like every one else he knew the magnetic power of Gudule&rsquo;s eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nowhere, probably, does the grim, consuming pestilence of gaming claim more
+victims than in the Ghetto. The ravages of drink and debauchery are slight
+indeed; but the tortuous streets can show too many a humble home haunted by the
+spectres of ruin and misery which stalked across the threshold when the FIRST
+CARD GAME was played.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was with almost feverish anxiety that the eyes of the Ghetto were fixed upon
+the development of a character like Ascher&rsquo;s; they followed his every
+step with the closest attention. Long experience had taught the Ghetto that no
+gambler could be trusted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As though conscious that all eyes were upon him, Ascher showed himself most
+punctilious in the discharge of even the minutest of communal duties which
+devolved upon him as a denizen of the Ghetto, and his habits of life were
+almost ostentatiously regular and decorous. His business had prospered, and
+Gudule had borne him a son.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Gudule, my child,&rdquo; the farmer asked his daughter on the day
+when his grandson was received into the covenant of Abraham,&mdash;&ldquo;well,
+Gudule, was the letter right?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What letter?&rdquo; asked Gudule.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That in which your husband was called a gambler.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And can you still give a thought to such a letter?&rdquo; was
+Gudule&rsquo;s significant reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Three years later, Gudule&rsquo;s father came to visit her. This time she
+showed him his second grandchild, her little Viola. He kissed the children, and
+round little Viola&rsquo;s neck clasped three rows of pearls, &ldquo;that the
+child may know it had a grandfather once.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And where are your pearls, Gudule?&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;those left
+you by your mother,&mdash;may she rest in peace! She always set such store by
+them.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Those, father?&rdquo; Gudule replied, turning pale; &ldquo;oh, my
+husband has taken them to a goldsmith in Prague. They require a new
+clasp.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see,&rdquo; remarked her father. Notwithstanding his limited powers of
+observation, it did not escape the old man&rsquo;s eyes that Gudule looked
+alarmingly wan and emaciated. He saw it, and it grieved his very soul. He said
+nothing however: only, when leaving, and after he had kissed the Mezuza
+[Footnote: Small cylinder inclosing a roll of parchment inscribed with the
+Hebrew word Shadai (Almighty) and with other texts, which is affixed to the
+lintel of every Jewish house.], he said to Gudule (who, with little Viola in
+her arms, went with him to the door), in a voice quivering with suppressed
+emotion: &ldquo;Gudule, my child, the pearl necklet which I have given your
+little Viola has a clasp strong enough to last a hundred years … you need
+never, therefore, give it to your husband to have a new clasp made for
+it.&rdquo; And without bestowing another glance upon his child the easy-going
+man left the house. It was his last visit. Within the year Gudule received a
+letter from her eldest brother telling her that their father was dead, and that
+she would have to keep the week of mourning for him. Ever since his last visit
+to her&mdash;her brother wrote&mdash;the old man had been somewhat ailing, but
+knowing his vigorous constitution, they had paid little heed to his complaints.
+It was only during the last few weeks that a marked loss of strength had been
+noticed. This was followed by fever and delirium. Whenever he was asked whether
+he would not like to see Gudule, his only answer was: &ldquo;She must not give
+away the clasp of little Viola&rsquo;s necklet.&rdquo; And but an hour before
+his death, he raised his voice, and loudly called for &ldquo;the letter.&rdquo;
+Nobody knew what letter. &ldquo;Gudule knows where it is,&rdquo; he said, with
+a gentle shake of his head. Those were the last words he spoke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Had the old man&rsquo;s eyes deceived him on the occasion of his last visit to
+his son-in-law&rsquo;s house? No! For, setting aside the incident of the
+missing pearls, the whole Ghetto could long since have told him that the
+warning of the anonymous letter was not unfounded&mdash;for Gudule was the wife
+of a gambler.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With the resistless impetuosity of a torrent released from its prison of ice
+and snow, the old invincible disease had again overwhelmed its victim. Gudule
+noticed the first signs of it when one day her husband returned home from one
+of his business journeys earlier than he had arranged. Gudule had not expected
+him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why did you not come to meet me with the children?&rdquo; he cried
+peevishly; &ldquo;do you begrudge me even that pleasure?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;<i>I</i> begrudge you a pleasure?&rdquo; Gudule ventured to remark, as
+she raised her swimming eyes to his face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why do you look at me so tearfully?&rdquo; he almost shouted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ascher loved his wife, and when he saw the effect which his rough words had
+produced, he tenderly embraced her. &ldquo;Am I not right, Gudule?&rdquo; he
+said, &ldquo;after a man has been working and slaving the livelong week,
+don&rsquo;t you think he looks forward with longing eyes for his dear children
+to welcome him at his door?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At that moment Gudule felt the long latent suspicion revive in her that her
+husband was not speaking the truth. As if written in characters of fire, the
+words of that letter now came back to her memory; she knew now what was the
+fate that awaited her and her children.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thenceforward, all the characteristic tokens of a gambler&rsquo;s life, all the
+vicissitudes which attend his unholy calling, followed close upon each other in
+grim succession. Most marked was the disturbance which his mental equilibrium
+was undergoing. Fits of gloomy despondency were succeeded, with alarming
+rapidity, by periods of tumultuous exaltation. One moment it would seem as
+though Gudule and the children were to him the living embodiment of all that
+was precious and lovable, whilst at other times he would regard them with
+sullen indifference. It soon became evident to Gudule that her husband&rsquo;s
+affairs were in a very bad way, for her house-keeping allowance no longer came
+to her with its wonted regularity. But what grieved and alarmed her most, was
+the fact that Ascher was openly neglecting every one of his religious duties.
+To return home late on Friday night, long after sunset had ushered in the
+Sabbath, was now a common practice. Once even it happened, that with his
+clothes covered with dust, he came home from one of his business tours on a
+Sabbath morning, when the people in holiday attire were wending their way to
+the synagogue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nevertheless, not a sound of complaint escaped Gudule&rsquo;s lips. Hers was
+one of those proud, sensitive natures, such as are to be met with among all
+classes and amid all circumstances of life, in Ghetto and in secluded village,
+no less than among the most favored ones of the earth. Had she not cast to the
+winds the well-intentioned counsel given her in that unsigned letter? Why then
+should she complain and lament, now that the seed had borne fruit? She shrank
+from alluding before her husband to the passion which day by day, nay, hour by
+hour, tightened its hold upon him. She would have died sooner than permit the
+word &ldquo;gambler&rdquo; to pass her lips. Besides, did not her eyes tell
+Ascher what she suffered? Those very eyes were, according to Ascher, the cause
+of his rapid journey along the road to ruin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why do you look at me so, Gudule?&rdquo; he would testily ask her, at
+the slightest provocation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Often when, as he explained, he had had &ldquo;a specially good week,&rdquo; he
+would bring home the costliest gifts for his children. Gudule, however, made no
+use whatever of these trinkets, neither for herself nor for the children. She
+put the things away in drawers and cupboards, and never looked at them, more
+especially as she observed that, under some pretext or another, Ascher
+generally took those glittering things away again, &ldquo;in order to exchange
+them for others,&rdquo; he said: as often as not never replacing them at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gudule!&rdquo; he said one day, when he happened to be in a particularly
+good humor, &ldquo;why do you let the key remain in the door of that bureau
+where you keep so many valuables?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And again Gudule regarded him with those unfathomable eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;There, you&rsquo;re … looking at me again!&rdquo; he exclaimed with
+sudden vehemence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;They&rsquo;re safe enough in the cupboard,&rdquo; Gudule said, smiling,
+&ldquo;why should I lock it?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gudule, do you mean to say …&rdquo; he cried, raising his hand as for a
+blow. Then he fell back in his chair, and his frame was shaken with sobs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gudule, my heart&rsquo;s love,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;I am not worthy
+that your eyes should rest on me. Everywhere, wherever I go, they look at me,
+those eyes … and that is my ruin. If business is bad, your eyes ask me,
+&lsquo;Why did you mix yourself up with these things, without a thought of wife
+or children?&rsquo;… Then I feel as if some evil spirit possessed me and
+tortured my soul. Oh, why can&rsquo;t you look at me again as you did when you
+were my bride?&mdash;then you looked so happy, so lovely! At other times I
+think: &lsquo;I shall yet grasp fortune with both hands … and then I can face
+my Gudule&rsquo;s eyes again.&rsquo; But now, now … oh, don&rsquo;t look at me,
+Gudule!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There spoke the self-reproaching voice, which sometimes burst forth unbidden
+from a suffering soul.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As for Gudule, she already knew how to appreciate this cry of her
+husband&rsquo;s conscience at its true value. It was not that she felt one
+moment&rsquo;s doubt as to its sincerity, but she knew that so far as it
+affected the future, it was a mere cry and nothing more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The years rolled on. The children were growing up. Ephraim had entered his
+fifteenth year. Viola was a little pale girl of twelve. In opinion of the
+Ghetto they were the most extraordinary children in the world. In the midst of
+the harassing life to which her marriage with the gambler had brought her,
+Gudule so reared them that they grew to be living reflections of her own inmost
+being. People wondered when they beheld the strange development of
+&ldquo;Wild&rdquo; Ascher&rsquo;s children.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Their natures were as proud and reserved as that of their mother. They did not
+associate with the youth of the Ghetto; it seemed as though they were not of
+their kind, as though an insurmountable barrier divided them. And many a bitter
+sneer was hurled at Gudule&rsquo;s head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Does she imagine,&rdquo; she often heard people whisper, &ldquo;that
+because her father was a farmer her children are princes? Let her remember that
+her husband is but a common gambler.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+How different would have been their thoughts had they known that the children
+were Gudule&rsquo;s sole comfort. What their father had never heard from her,
+she poured into their youthful souls. No tear their mother shed was unobserved
+by them; they knew when their father had lost and when he had won; they knew,
+too, all the varying moods of his unhinged mind; and in this terrible school of
+misery they acquired an instinctive intelligence, which in the eyes of
+strangers seemed mere precocity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The two children, however, had early given evidence of a marked difference in
+disposition. Ephraim&rsquo;s nature was one of an almost feminine gentleness,
+whilst Viola was strong-willed and proudly reserved.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; she said one day, &ldquo;do you think he will continue to
+play much longer?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Viola, how can you talk like that?&rdquo; Ephraim cried, greatly
+disturbed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thereupon Viola impetuously flung her arms round her mother&rsquo;s neck, and
+for some moments she clung to her with all the strength of her passionate
+nature. It was as though in that wild embrace she would fain pour forth the
+long pent-up sorrows of her blighted childhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mother!&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;you are so good to him. Never, never
+shall he have such kindness from me!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim,&rdquo; said Gudule, &ldquo;speak to your sister. In her sinful
+anger, Viola would revenge herself upon her own father. Does it so beseem a
+Jewish child?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why does he treat you so cruelly, then?&rdquo; Viola almost hissed the
+words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Soon after fell the final crushing blow. Ascher had been away from home for
+some weeks, when one day Gudule received a letter, dated a prison in the
+neighborhood of Vienna. In words of genuine sympathy the writer explained that
+Ascher had been unfortunate enough to forge the signature to a bill. She would
+not see him again for the next five years. God comfort her! The letter was
+signed: &ldquo;A fellow-sufferer with your husband.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As it had been with her old father, after he had bidden her a last farewell, so
+it was now with Gudule. From that moment her days were numbered, and although
+not a murmur escaped her lips, hour by hour she wasted away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One Friday evening, shortly after the seven-branched Sabbath lamp had been lit,
+Gudule, seated in her arm-chair, out of which she had not moved all day, called
+the two children to her. A bright smile hovered around her lips, an unwonted
+fire burned in her still beautiful eyes, her bosom heaved … in the eyes of her
+children she seemed strangely changed. &ldquo;Children,&rdquo; said she,
+&ldquo;come and stand by me. Ephraim, you stand here on my right, and you, dear
+Viola, on my left. I would like to tell you a little story, such as they tell
+little children to soothe them to sleep. Shall I?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Mother!&rdquo; they both cried, as they bent towards her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You must not interrupt me, children,&rdquo; she observed, still with
+that strange smile on her lips, &ldquo;but leave me to tell my little story in
+my own way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Listen, children,&rdquo; she resumed, after a brief pause. &ldquo;Every
+human being&mdash;be he ever so wicked&mdash;if he have done but a single good
+deed on earth, will, when he arrives above, in the seventh heaven, get his
+Sechûs, that is to say, the memory of the good he has done here below will be
+remembered and rewarded bountifully by the Almighty.&rdquo; Gudule ceased
+speaking. Suddenly a change came over her features: her breath came and went in
+labored gasps; but her brown eyes still gleamed brightly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In tones well-nigh inaudible she continued: &ldquo;When Jerusalem, the Holy
+City, was destroyed, the dead rose up out of their graves … the holy patriarchs
+Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob … and also Moses, and Aaron his brother … and David
+the King … and prostrating themselves before God&rsquo;s throne they sobbed:
+&lsquo;Dost Thou not remember the deeds we have done?… Wouldst Thou now utterly
+destroy all these our children, even to the innocent babe at the breast?&rsquo;
+But the Almighty was inexorable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then Sarah, our mother, approached the Throne… When God beheld her, He
+covered His face, and wept. &lsquo;Go,&rsquo; said He, &lsquo;I cannot listen
+to thee.&rsquo; … But she exclaimed … &lsquo;Dost Thou no longer remember the
+tears I shed before I gave birth to my Joseph and Benjamin … and dost Thou not
+remember the day when they buried me yonder, on the borders of the Promised
+Land … and now, must mine eyes behold the slaughter of my children, their
+disgrace, and their captivity?&rsquo;… Then God cried: &lsquo;For THY sake will
+I remember thy children and spare them.&rsquo; …&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would you like to know,&rdquo; Gudule suddenly cried, with uplifted
+voice, &ldquo;what this Sechûs is like? It has the form of an angel, and it
+stands near the Throne of the Almighty. … But, since the days of Rachel, our
+mother, it is the Sechûs of a mother that finds most favor in God&rsquo;s eyes.
+When a mother dies, her soul straightway soars heavenward, and there it takes
+its place amid the others.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Who art thou?&rsquo; asks God. &lsquo;I am the Sechûs of a
+mother,&rsquo; is the answer, &lsquo;of a mother who has left children behind
+her on earth.&rsquo; &lsquo;Then do thou stand here and keep guard over
+them!&rsquo; says God. And when it is well with the children, it is the Sechûs
+of a mother which has caused them to prosper, and when evil days befall them …
+it is again the Angel who stands before God and pleads: &lsquo;Dost Thou forget
+that these children no longer have a mother?&rsquo;… and the evil is averted.
+…&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gudule&rsquo;s voice had sunk to a mere whisper. Her eyes closed, her head fell
+back, her breathing became slower and more labored. &ldquo;Are you still there,
+children?&rdquo; she softly whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Anxiously they bent over her. Then once again she opened her eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I see you still&rdquo;&mdash;the words came with difficulty from her
+blanched lips&mdash;&ldquo;you, Ephraim, and you, my little Viola … I am sure
+my Sechûs will plead for you … for you and your father.&rdquo; They were
+Gudule&rsquo;s last words. When her children, whose eyes had never as yet been
+confronted with Death, called her by her name, covering her icy hands with
+burning kisses, their mother was no more …
+</p>
+
+<p class="p2">
+Who can tell what influence causes the downtrodden blade to raise itself once
+more! Is it the vivifying breath of the west wind, or a mysterious power sent
+forth from the bosom of Mother Earth? It was a touching sight to see how those
+two children, crushed as they were beneath the weight of a twofold blow, raised
+their heads again, and in their very desolation found new-born strength. And it
+filled the Ghetto with wonder. For what were they but the offspring of a
+gambler? Or was it the spirit of Gudule, their mother, that lived in them?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After Gudule&rsquo;s death, her eldest brother, the then owner of the grange,
+came over to discuss the future of his sister&rsquo;s children. He wished
+Ephraim and Viola to go with him to his home in Lower Bohemia, where he could
+find them occupation. The children, however, were opposed to the idea. They had
+taken no previous counsel together, yet, upon this point, both were in perfect
+accord,&mdash;they would prefer to be left in their old home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;When father comes back again,&rdquo; said Ephraim, &ldquo;he must know
+where to find us. But to you, Uncle Gabriel, he would never come.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The uncle then insisted that Viola at least should accompany him, for he had
+daughters at home whom she could assist in their duties in the house and on the
+farm. But the child clung to Ephraim, and with flaming eyes, and in a voice of
+proud disdain, which filled the simple farmer with something like terror, she
+cried:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Uncle, you have enough to do to provide for your own daughters;
+don&rsquo;t let ME be an additional burden upon you; besides, sooner would I
+wander destitute through the world than be separated from my brother.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what do you propose to do then?&rdquo; exclaimed the uncle, after he
+had somewhat recovered from his astonishment at Viola&rsquo;s vehemence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You see, Uncle Gabriel,&rdquo; said Ephraim, a sudden flush
+overspreading his grief-stricken features, &ldquo;you see I have thought about
+it, and I have come to the conclusion that this is the best plan. Viola shall
+keep house, and I … I&rsquo;ll start a business.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;YOU start a business?&rdquo; cried the uncle with a loud laugh.
+&ldquo;Perhaps you can tell me what price I&rsquo;ll get for my oats next
+market day? A business!… and what business, my lad?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Uncle,&rdquo; said Ephraim, &ldquo;if I dispose of all that is left us,
+I shall have enough money to buy a small business. Others in our position have
+done the same… and then…&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, and then?&rdquo; the uncle cried, eagerly anticipating his answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then the Sechûs of our mother will come to our aid.&rdquo; Ephraim said
+softly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The farmer&rsquo;s eyes grew dim with moisture; his sister had been very dear
+to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I live!&rdquo; he cried, brushing his hand across his eyes,
+&ldquo;you are true children of my sister Gudule. That&rsquo;s all <i>I</i> can
+say.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, as though moved by a sudden impulse, he quickly produced, from the depths
+of his overcoat, a heavy pocketbook. &ldquo;There!&rdquo;… he cried, well-nigh
+out of breath, &ldquo;there are a hundred gulden for you, Ephraim. With that
+you can, at all events, make a start; and then you needn&rsquo;t sell the few
+things you still have. There … put the money away… oats haven&rsquo;t fetched
+any price at all to-day, &rsquo;tis true; but for the sake of Gudule&rsquo;s
+children, I don&rsquo;t mind what I do… Come, put it away, Ephraim… and may God
+bless you, and make you prosper.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Uncle!&rdquo; cried Ephraim, as he raised the farmer&rsquo;s hand to his
+lips, &ldquo;is all this to be mine? All this?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, my boy, yes; it IS a deal of money isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; … said
+Gudule&rsquo;s brother, accompanying his words with a sounding slap on his
+massive thigh. &ldquo;I should rather think it is. With that you can do
+something, at all events … and shall I tell you something? In Bohemia the oat
+crop is, unfortunately, very bad this season. But in Moravia it&rsquo;s
+splendid, and is two groats cheaper … So there&rsquo;s your chance, Ephraim, my
+child; you&rsquo;ve got the money, buy!&rdquo; All at once a dark cloud
+overspread his smiling face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a lot of money, Ephraim, that I am giving you … many a
+merchant can&rsquo;t lay his hands on it,&rdquo; he said, hesitatingly;
+&ldquo;but if … you were to … gam&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word remained unfinished, for upon his arm he suddenly felt a sensation as
+of a sharp, pricking needle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Uncle Gabriel!&rdquo; cried Viola&mdash;for it was she who had gripped
+his arm&mdash;and the child&rsquo;s cheeks were flaming, whilst her lips curled
+with scorn, and her white teeth gleamed like those of a beast of prey.
+&ldquo;Uncle Gabriel!&rdquo; she almost shrieked, &ldquo;if you don&rsquo;t
+trust Ephraim, then take your money back again … it&rsquo;s only because you
+are our mother&rsquo;s brother that we accept it from you at all … Ephraim
+shall repay you to the last farthing … Ephraim doesn&rsquo;t gamble … you
+sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t lose a single penny of it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a shake of his head the farmer regarded the strange child. He felt
+something like annoyance rise within him; an angry word rose to the lips of the
+usually good tempered man. But it remained unsaid; he was unable to remove his
+eyes from the child&rsquo;s face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;As I live,&rdquo; he muttered, &ldquo;she has Gudule&rsquo;s very
+eyes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And with another thumping slap on his leg, he merrily exclaimed:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;All right, we&rsquo;ll leave it so then…. If Ephraim doesn&rsquo;t repay
+me, I&rsquo;ll take YOU, you wild thing… for you&rsquo;ve stood surety for your
+brother, and then I&rsquo;ll take you away, and keep you with me at home. Do
+you agree… you little spit-fire, eh?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, uncle!&rdquo; cried Viola.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then give me a kiss, Viola.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The child hesitated for a moment, then she laid her cheek upon her
+uncle&rsquo;s face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, now I&rsquo;ve got you, you little spit-fire,&rdquo; he cried,
+kissing her again and again. &ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you ashamed now to have
+snapped your uncle up like that?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then after giving Ephraim some further information about the present price of
+oats, and the future prospects of the crops, with a sideshot at the chances of
+wool, skins, and other merchandise, he took his leave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was great surprise in the Ghetto when the barely fifteen-year-old lad
+made his first start in business. Many made merry over &ldquo;the great
+merchant,&rdquo; but before the year was ended, the sharp-seeing eyes of the
+Ghetto saw that Ephraim had &ldquo;a lucky hand.&rdquo; Whatever he undertook
+he followed up with a calmness and tact which often baffled the restless
+activity of many a big dealer, with all his cuteness and trickery. Whenever
+Ephraim, with his pale, sad face, made his appearance at a farmstead, to
+negotiate for the purchase of wool, or some such matter, it seemed as though
+some invisible messenger had gone before him to soften the hearts of the
+farmers. &ldquo;No one ever gets things as cheap as you do,&rdquo; he was
+assured by many a farmer&rsquo;s wife, who had been won by the unconscious
+eloquence of his dark eyes. No longer did people laugh at &ldquo;the little
+merchant,&rdquo; for nothing so quickly kills ridicule as success.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When, two years later, his Uncle Gabriel came again to see how the children
+were getting on, Ephraim was enabled to repay, in hard cash, the money he had
+lent him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oho!&rdquo; cried Gudule&rsquo;s brother, with big staring eyes, as he
+clutched his legs with both hands, &ldquo;how have you managed in so short a
+time to save so much? D&rsquo;ye know that that&rsquo;s a great deal of
+money?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve had good luck, uncle,&rdquo; said Ephraim, modestly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve been…playing, perhaps?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The words fell bluntly from the rough country-man, but hardly had they been
+uttered, when Viola sprang from her chair, as though an adder had stung her.
+&ldquo;Uncle,&rdquo; she cried, and a small fist hovered before Gabriel&rsquo;s
+eyes in such a threatening manner that he involuntarily closed them. But the
+child, whose features reminded him so strongly of his dead sister, could not
+make him angry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim,&rdquo; he exclaimed, in a jocund tone, warding off Viola with
+his hands, &ldquo;you take my advice. Take this little spit-fire with you into
+the village one day…they may want a young she-wolf there.&rdquo; Then he
+pocketed the money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, Ephraim,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;may God bless you, and grant you
+further luck. But you won&rsquo;t blame me if I take the money,&mdash;I can do
+with it, and in oats, as you know, there&rsquo;s some chance of good business
+just now. But I am glad to see that you&rsquo;re so prompt at paying. Never
+give too much credit! That&rsquo;s always my motto; trust means ruin, and eats
+up a man&rsquo;s business, as rats devour the contents of a corn-barn.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was but one thing that constantly threw its dark shadow across these two
+budding lives,&mdash;it was the dark figure in a distant prison. This it was
+that saddened the souls of the two children with a gloom which no sunshine
+could dispel. When on Fridays Ephraim returned, fatigued and weary from his
+work, to the home over which Viola presided with such pathetic housewifely
+care, no smile of welcome was on her face, no greeting on his. Ephraim,
+&rsquo;tis true, told his sister where he had been, and what he had done, but
+in the simplest words there vibrated that tone of unutterable sadness which has
+its constant dwelling-place in such sorely-tried hearts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile, a great change had come over Viola. Nature continues her processes
+of growth and development &rsquo;mid the tempests of human grief, and often the
+fiercer the storm the more beautiful the after effects. Viola was no longer the
+pale child, &ldquo;the little spit-fire,&rdquo; by whom her Uncle
+Gabriel&rsquo;s arm had been seized in such a violent grip. A womanly
+gentleness had come over her whole being, and already voices were heard in the
+Ghetto praising her grace and beauty, which surpassed even the loveliness of
+her dead mother in her happiest days. Many an admiring eye dwelt upon the
+beautiful girl, many a longing glance was cast in the direction of the little
+house, where she dwelt with her brother. But the daughter of a
+&ldquo;gambler,&rdquo; the child of a man who was undergoing imprisonment for
+the indulgence of his shameful vice! That was a picture from which many an
+admirer shrank with horror!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day Ephraim brought home a young canary for his sister. When he handed her
+the bird in its little gilt cage, her joy knew no bounds, and showering kisses
+by turns upon her brother, and on the wire-work of the cage, her eyes sparkling
+with animation:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You shall see, Ephraim, how I&rsquo;ll teach the little bird to
+speak,&rdquo; she cried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The softening influence which had, during the last few months, come over his
+sister&rsquo;s nature was truly a matter of wonder to Ephraim. Humbly and
+submissively she accepted the slightest suggestion on his part, as though it
+were a command. He was to her a father and mother, and never were parents more
+implicitly obeyed by a child than this brother by a sister but three years his
+junior.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was one subject, however, upon which Ephraim found his sister implacable
+and firm&mdash;their absent father, the mere mention of whose name made her
+tremble. Then there returned that haughty curl of the lips, and all the other
+symptoms of a proud, inflexible spirit. It was evident that Viola hated the man
+to whom she owed her existence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus had it come about that Ephraim was almost afraid to pronounce his
+father&rsquo;s name. Neither did he care to allude to their mother before
+Viola, for the memory of her death was too closely bound up with that dark form
+behind the distant prison walls.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us now return to the night on which Ephraim opened the door to his father.
+How had it come about? A thousand times Ephraim had thought about his
+father&rsquo;s return&mdash;and now he durst not even kindle a light, to look
+upon the long-estranged face. As silent as when he had come, Ascher remained
+during the rest of the night; he had seated himself at the window, and his arm
+was resting upon the very spot where formerly the cage had stood. The bird had
+obtained its freedom, and was, no doubt, by this time asleep, nestling amid the
+breeze-swept foliage of some wooded glen. HE too had regained his liberty, but
+no sleep closed his eyes, and yet he was in safe shelter, in the house of his
+children.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length the day began to break. The sun was still hiding behind the
+mountain-tops, but its earliest rays were already reflected upon the
+window-panes. In the Ghetto footsteps became audible; here and there the
+grating noise of an opening street-door was heard, while from round the corner
+resounded, ever and anon, the hammer of the watchman, calling the people to
+morning service; for it was a Fast-day, which commenced at sunrise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At that moment Ascher raised himself from his chair, and quickly turned away
+from the window. Ephraim was already by his side. &ldquo;Father, dear
+father!&rdquo; he cried from the inmost depths of his heart, as he tried to
+grasp the hand of the convict.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t make such a noise,&rdquo; said the latter, casting a furtive
+glance in the direction of the window, and speaking in the same mysterious
+whisper in which he had asked for admittance into the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What a strange awakening it was to his son, when, in the gray twilight of the
+breaking day, he looked at Ascher more closely. In his imagination Ephraim had
+pictured a wan, grief-worn figure, and now he saw before him a strong,
+well-built man, who certainly did not present the appearance of a person who
+had just emerged from the dank atmosphere of a prison! On the contrary, he
+seemed stronger and more vigorous than he had appeared in his best days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Has he had such a good time of it…?&rdquo; Ephraim felt compelled to ask
+himself… &ldquo;how different our poor mother looked!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a violent effort he repressed the feelings which swelled his bosom.
+&ldquo;Dear father,&rdquo; he said, with tears in his eyes, &ldquo;make
+yourself quite comfortable; you haven&rsquo;t closed your eyes the whole night,
+you must be worn out. You are at home, remember…father!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right,&rdquo; said Ascher, with a deprecating gesture,
+&ldquo;WE fellows know other ways of spending the night.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;WE FELLOWS!&rdquo; The words cut Ephraim to the heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But you may be taken ill, father,&rdquo; he timidly observed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I taken ill! What do you take me for?&rdquo; Ascher laughed,
+boisterously. &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t the slightest intention of falling
+ill.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At that moment the watchman was heard hammering at the door of the next house.
+The reverberating blows seemed to have a strangely disquieting effect upon the
+strong man: a violent tremor seized him; he cast one of the frightened glances
+which Ephraim had noticed before in the direction of the window, then with one
+bound he was at the door, and swiftly turned the knob.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father, what&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; Ephraim cried, much alarmed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Does the watchman look into the room when he passes by?&rdquo; asked
+Ascher, while his eyes almost burst from their sockets, with the intentness of
+their gaze.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never,&rdquo; Ephraim assured him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me see, wait…&rdquo; whispered Ascher.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The three well-known knocks now resounded upon their own door, then the shadow
+of a passing figure was thrown upon the opposite wall. With a sigh of relief,
+the words escaped Ascher&rsquo;s bosom:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He did not look inside…&rdquo; he muttered to himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he removed his hand from the door-knob, came back into the centre of the
+room, and approaching the table, rested his hand upon it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim…&rdquo; he said after a while, in that suppressed tone which
+seemed to be peculiar to him, &ldquo;aren&rsquo;t you going to
+synagogue?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, father,&rdquo; replied Ephraim, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going
+to-day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But they&rsquo;ll want to know,&rdquo; Ascher observed, and at the words
+an ugly sneer curled the corners of his lip; &ldquo;they&rsquo;ll want to know
+who your guest is. Why don&rsquo;t you go and tell them?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father!&rdquo; cried Ephraim.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then be good enough to draw down the blinds. …What business is it of
+theirs who your guest is? Let them attend to their own affairs… But they
+wouldn&rsquo;t be of &lsquo;the chosen race&rsquo; if they didn&rsquo;t want to
+know what was taking place in the furthermost corner of your brain. You
+can&rsquo;t be too careful with them…you&rsquo;re never secure against their
+far-scenting noses and their sharp, searching eyes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now broad daylight. Ephraim drew down the blinds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The blinds are too white…&rdquo; Ascher muttered, and moving a chair
+forward, he sat down upon it with his back to the window.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ephraim proceeded to wind the phylacteries round his arm, and commenced to say
+his prayers softly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His devotions over, he hurriedly took the phylacteries from his head and hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ascher was still sitting immovable, his back to the window, his eyes fixed upon
+the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you ask me where I&rsquo;ve left my luggage?&rdquo; he
+suddenly cried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll fetch it myself if you&rsquo;ll tell me where it is,&rdquo;
+Ephraim remarked, in all simplicity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Upon my word, you make me laugh,&rdquo; cried Ascher, and a laugh like
+that of delirium burst from his lips. &ldquo;All I can say, Ephraim, is, the
+most powerful giant upon earth would break his back beneath the weight of my
+luggage!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then only did Ephraim grasp his father&rsquo;s meaning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t worry yourself, father…&rdquo; he said lovingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would you like to support me, perhaps!&rdquo; Ascher shouted, with
+cutting disdain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ephraim&rsquo;s heart almost ceased to beat. Then movements were heard in the
+adjoining room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Have you any one with you?&rdquo; cried Ascher springing up. His sharp
+ears had instantly caught the sounds, and again the strong man was seized with
+violent trembling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father, it&rsquo;s only dear Viola,&rdquo; said Ephraim.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A nameless terror seemed to have over-powered Ascher. With one hand
+convulsively clenched upon the arm of the chair, and the other pressed to his
+temple, he sat breathing heavily. Ephraim observed with alarm what a terrible
+change had come over his father&rsquo;s features during the last few seconds:
+his face had become ashen white, his eyes had lost their lustre, he seemed to
+have aged ten years.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The door opened, and Viola entered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Viola!&rdquo; cried Ephraim, &ldquo;here is our&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Welcome!&rdquo; said the girl, in a low voice, as she approached a few
+steps nearer. She extended her hand towards him, but her eyes were cast down.
+She stood still for a moment, then, with a hurried movement, turned away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gudule!&rdquo; cried Ascher, horror-stricken, as he fell back almost
+senseless in his chair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Was it the glamour of her maiden beauty that had so overpowered this unhappy
+father? Or was it the extraordinary resemblance she bore to the woman who had
+so loved him, and whose heart he had broken? The utterance of her name, the
+terror that accompanied the exclamation, denoted the effect which the
+girl&rsquo;s sudden appearance had produced upon that sadly unhinged mind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Viola!&rdquo; Ephraim cried, in a sorrow-stricken voice, &ldquo;why
+don&rsquo;t you come here?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I CAN&rsquo;T, Ephraim, I CAN&rsquo;T…&rdquo; she moaned, as, with
+halting steps, she walked towards the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, speak to him, do,&rdquo; Ephraim entreated, taking her hand in
+his.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Let me go!&rdquo; she cried, trying to release herself … &ldquo;I am
+thinking of mother!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly Ascher rose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where&rsquo;s my stick?&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I want the stick which I
+brought with me…Where is it? I must go.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father, you won&rsquo;t…&rdquo; cried Ephraim.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Viola turned round.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father,&rdquo; she said, with twitching lips… &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll want
+something to eat before you go.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes, let me have something to eat,&rdquo; he shouted, as he brought
+his fist down upon the table. &ldquo;Bring me wine…and let it be good …I am
+thirsty enough to drink the river dry. …Wine, and beer, and anything else you
+can find, bring all here, and then, when I&rsquo;ve had my fill, I&rsquo;ll
+go.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go, Viola,&rdquo; Ephraim whispered in his sister&rsquo;s ear,
+&ldquo;and bring him all he asks for.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Viola had left the room, Ascher appeared to grow calmer. He sat down again
+leaning his arms upon the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he muttered to himself: &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll taste food with my
+children, before I take up my stick and go…They say it&rsquo;s lucky to have
+the first drink of the day served by one&rsquo;s own child …and luck I will
+have again, at any price… What good children! While I&rsquo;ve been anything
+but a good father to them, they run hither and thither and take the trouble to
+get me food and drink, and I, I&rsquo;ve brought them home nothing but a wooden
+stick. But I&rsquo;ll repay them, so help me God, I&rsquo;ll make them rich
+yet, but I&rsquo;ve got nothing but a wooden stick, and I want money, no play
+without money, and no luck either…&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gradually a certain thoughtfulness overspread Ascher&rsquo;s agitated features,
+his lips were tightly compressed, deep furrows lined his forehead, while his
+eyes were fixed in a stony glare, as if upon some distant object. In the
+meantime Ephraim had remained standing almost motionless, and it was evident
+that his presence in the room had quite escaped his father&rsquo;s observation.
+With a chilling shudder running through his frame, his hair on end with horror,
+he listened to the strange soliloquy!…Then he saw his father&rsquo;s eyes
+travelling slowly in the direction of the old bureau in the corner, and there
+they remained fixed. &ldquo;Why does he leave the key in the door, I
+wonder,&rdquo; he heard him mutter between his teeth, &ldquo;just as Gudule
+used to do; I must tell him when he comes back, keys shouldn&rsquo;t be left
+indoors, never, under any circumstances.&rdquo; The entrance of Viola
+interrupted the old gambler&rsquo;s audible train of thought.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ephraim gave a gasp of relief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah, what have you brought me?&rdquo; cried Ascher, and his eyes sparkled
+with animation, as Viola produced some bottles from under her apron, and placed
+them and some glasses upon the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now then, fill up the glass,&rdquo; he shouted, in a commanding voice,
+&ldquo;and take care that you don&rsquo;t spill any, or you&rsquo;ll spoil my
+luck.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With trembling hand Viola did as she was bidden, without spilling a single
+drop. Then he took up the glass and drained it at one draught. His face flushed
+a bright crimson: he poured himself out another glass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you drinking, Ephraim?&rdquo; he exclaimed, after he had
+finished that glass also.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t drink to-day, father,&rdquo; Ephraim faltered,
+&ldquo;it&rsquo;s a fast.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A fast? What fast? I have been fasting too,&rdquo; he continued, with a
+coarse laugh, &ldquo;twice a week, on bread and water; an excellent thing for
+the stomach. Fancy, a fast-day in midsummer. On such a long day, when the sun
+is up at three already, and at eight o&rsquo;clock at night is still hesitating
+whether he&rsquo;ll go to bed or not …what have I got to do with your
+Fast-day?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His face grew redder every moment; he had drunk a third and a fourth glass, and
+there was nothing but a mere drain left in the bottle. Already his utterance
+was thick and incoherent, and his eyes were fast assuming that glassy
+brightness that is usually the forerunner of helpless intoxication. It was a
+sight Ephraim could not bear to see. Impelled by that natural, almost holy
+shame which prompted the son of Noah to cover the nakedness of his father, he
+motioned to his sister to leave. Then HE, too, softly walked out of the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Outside, in the corridor, the brother and sister fell into each other&rsquo;s
+arms. Both wept bitterly: for a long time neither of them could find words in
+which to express the grief which filled their souls. At length Viola, her head
+resting upon Ephraim&rsquo;s shoulder, whispered: &ldquo;Ephraim, what do you
+think of him?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is ill, I think…&rdquo; said Ephraim, in a voice choked with sobs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What, you call THAT illness, Ephraim?&rdquo; Viola cried; &ldquo;if
+that&rsquo;s illness, then a wild beast is ill too.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Viola, for Heaven&rsquo;s sake, be quiet: he&rsquo;s our own father
+after all!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim!&rdquo; said the girl, with a violent outburst of emotion, as
+she again threw herself into her brother&rsquo;s arms… &ldquo;just think if
+mother had lived to see this!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t, don&rsquo;t, Viola, my sweet!&rdquo; Ephraim exclaimed,
+sobbing convulsively.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim!&rdquo; the girl cried, shaking her head in wild despair,
+&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe in the Sechûs! When we live to see all this, and
+our hearts do not break, we lose faith in everything…Ephraim, what is to become
+of us?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush, dear Viola, hush, you don&rsquo;t know what you are saying,&rdquo;
+replied Ephraim, &ldquo;I believe in it, because mother herself told us…you
+must believe in it too.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Viola again shook her head. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe in it any
+longer,&rdquo; she moaned, &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Noiselessly, Ephraim walked toward the door of the front room; he placed his
+ear against the keyhole, and listened. Within all was silent. A fresh terror
+seized him. Why was no sound to be heard?…He opened the door cautiously lest it
+should creak. There sat his father asleep in the arm-chair, his head bent on
+his bosom, his arms hanging limp by his side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hush, Viola,&rdquo; he whispered, closing the door as cautiously as he
+had opened it, &ldquo;he is asleep. …I think it will do him good. Be careful
+that you make no noise.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Viola had seated herself upon a block of wood outside the kitchen door, and was
+sobbing silently. In the meantime, Ephraim, unable to find a word of solace for
+his sister, went and stood at the street door, so that no unbidden guest should
+come to disturb his father&rsquo;s slumbers. It was mid-day; from the church
+hard by streamed the peasants and their wives in their Sunday attire, and many
+bestowed a friendly smile upon the well-known youth. But he could only nod his
+head in return, his heart was sore oppressed, and a smile at such a moment
+seemed to him nothing short of sin. He went back into the house, and listened
+at the door of the room. Silence still reigned unbroken, and with noiseless
+steps he again walked away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is still sleeping,&rdquo; he whispered to his sister. &ldquo;Just
+think what would have happened if we had still had that bird…He wouldn&rsquo;t
+have been able to sleep a wink.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim, why do you remind me of it?&rdquo; cried Viola with a fresh
+outburst of tears. &ldquo;Where is the little bird now, I wonder?…&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ephraim sat down beside his sister, and took her hand in his. Thus they
+remained seated for some time, unable to find a word of comfort for each other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length movements were heard. Ephraim sprang to his feet and once more
+approached the door to listen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He is awake!&rdquo; he softly said to Viola, and slowly opening the
+door, he entered the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ascher was walking up and down with heavy tread.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you feel refreshed after your sleep, father?&rdquo; Ephraim asked
+timidly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ascher stood still, and confronted his son. His face was still very flushed,
+but his eyes had lost their glassy stare; his glance was clear and steady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim, my son,&rdquo; he began, in a kindly, almost cheerful tone,
+&ldquo;you&rsquo;ve grown into a splendid business man, as good a business man
+as one can meet with between this and Vienna. I&rsquo;m sure of it. But I must
+give you one bit of advice; it&rsquo;s worth a hundred pounds to one in your
+position. Never leave a key in the lock of a bureau!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ephraim looked at his father as though stupefied. Was the man mad or delirious
+to talk in such a strain? At that moment, from the extreme end of the Ghetto,
+there sounded the three knocks, summoning the people to evening prayer. As in
+the morning, so again now the sound seemed to stun the vigorous man. His face
+blanched and assumed an expression of terror; he trembled from head to foot.
+Then again he cast a frightened glance in the direction of the window.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nothing but knocking, knocking!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;They would
+like to knock the most hidden thoughts out of one&rsquo;s brains, if they only
+could. What makes them do it, I should like to know?…To the clanging of a bell
+you can, at all events, shut your ears, you need only place your hands to
+them…but with that hammer they bang at every confounded door, and drive one
+crazy. Who gives them the right to do it, I should like to know?&rdquo; He
+stood still listening.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you think he will be long before he reaches here?&rdquo; he asked
+Ephraim, in a frightened voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Who, father?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The watch.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;He has already knocked next door but one.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another minute, and the three strokes sounded on the door of the house. Ascher
+heaved a sigh of relief; he rubbed his hand across his forehead; it was wet
+with perspiration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thank God!&rdquo; he cried, as though addressing himself,
+&ldquo;that&rsquo;s over, and won&rsquo;t come again till to-morrow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim, my son!&rdquo; he cried, with a sudden outburst of
+cheerfulness, accompanying the words with a thundering bang upon the table,
+&ldquo;Ephraim, my son, you shall soon see what sort of a father you have. Now,
+you&rsquo;re continually worrying your brains, walking your feet off, trying to
+get a skin, or praying some fool of a peasant to be good enough to sell you a
+bit of wool. Ephraim, my son, all that shall soon be changed, take my word for
+it. I&rsquo;ll make you rich, and as for Viola, I&rsquo;ll get her a
+husband&mdash;such a husband that all the girls in Bohemia will turn green and
+yellow with envy…Ascher&rsquo;s daughter shall have as rich a dowry as the
+daughter of a Rothschild… But there&rsquo;s one thing, and one thing only, that
+I need, and then all will happen as I promise, in one night.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And what is that, father!&rdquo; asked Ephraim, with a slight shudder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Luck, luck, Ephraim, my son!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;What is a man
+without luck? Put a man who has no luck in a chest full of gold; cover him with
+gold from head to foot; when he crawls out of it, and you search his pockets,
+you&rsquo;ll find the gold has turned to copper.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And will you have luck, father?&rdquo; asked Ephraim.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ephraim, my son!&rdquo; said the old gambler, with a cunning smile,
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you something&mdash;There are persons whose whole powers
+are devoted to one object&mdash;how to win a fortune; in the same way as there
+are some who study to become doctors, and the like, so these study what we call
+luck…and from them I&rsquo;ve learned it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He checked himself in sudden alarm lest he might have said too much, and looked
+searchingly at his son. A pure soul shone through Ephraim&rsquo;s open
+countenance, and showed his father that his real meaning had not been grasped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; he shouted loudly, waving his arms in the air,
+&ldquo;what is to come no man can stop. Give me something to drink,
+Ephraim.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Father,&rdquo; the latter faltered, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t you think it will
+harm you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be a fool, Ephraim!&rdquo; cried Ascher, &ldquo;you
+don&rsquo;t know my constitution. Besides, didn&rsquo;t you say that to-day was
+a fast, when it is forbidden to eat anything? And have I asked you for any
+food? But as for drink, that&rsquo;s quite another thing! The birds of the air
+can&rsquo;t do without it, much less man!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ephraim saw that for that evening, at all events, it would not do to oppose his
+father. He walked into the kitchen where Viola was preparing supper, or rather
+breakfast, for after the fast this was the first meal of the day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Viola,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;make haste and fetch some fresh
+wine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;For him?&rdquo; cried Viola, pointing her finger almost threateningly in
+the direction of the sitting-room door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t, don&rsquo;t, Viola!&rdquo; Ephraim implored.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And you are fasting!&rdquo; she said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Am I not also fasting for him?&rdquo; said Ephraim.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a full bottle in his hand Ephraim once more entered the room. He placed
+the wine upon the table, where the glasses from which Ascher had drunk in the
+morning were still standing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is Viola?&rdquo; asked Ascher, who was again pacing the room with
+firm steps.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She is busy cooking.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Tell her she shall have a husband, and a dowry that will make half the
+girls in Bohemia turn green and yellow with envy.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he approached the table, and drank three brimming glasses, one after the
+other. &ldquo;Now then,&rdquo; he said, as with his whole weight he dropped
+into the old arm-chair… &ldquo;Now I&rsquo;ll have a good night&rsquo;s rest. I
+need strength and sharp eyes, and they are things which only sleep can give.
+Ephraim, my son,&rdquo; he continued after awhile in thick, halting accents…
+&ldquo;tell the watch&mdash;Simon is his name, I think&mdash;he can give six
+knocks instead of three upon the door, in the morning, he won&rsquo;t disturb
+me…and to Viola you can say I&rsquo;ll find her a husband, handsomer than her
+eyes have ever beheld, and tell her on her wedding-day she shall wear pearls
+round her neck like those of a queen&mdash;no, no, like those of Gudule, her
+mother.&rdquo; A few moments later he was sound asleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the dead of night. All round reigned stillness and peace, the peace of
+night! What a gentle sound those words convey, a sound akin only to the word
+HOME! Fraught, like it, with sweetest balm, a fragrant flower from long-lost
+paradise. Thou art at rest, Ascher, and in safe shelter; the breathing of thy
+children is so restful, so tranquil…
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Desist! desist! &rsquo;Tis too late. Side by side with the peace of night,
+there dwell Spirits of Evil, the never-resting, vagrant, home-destroying
+guests, who enter unbidden into the human soul! Hark, the rustling of their
+raven-hued plumage! They take wing, they fly aloft; &rsquo;tis the shriek of
+the vulture, swooping down upon the guileless dove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Is there no eye to watch thee? Doth not thine own kin see thy foul deeds?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Desist!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&rsquo;Tis too late…
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Open is the window, no grating noise has accompanied the unbolting of the
+shutter… The evil spirits have taken care that the faintest sound shall die
+away…even the rough iron obeys their voices…it is they who have bidden:
+&ldquo;Be silent; betray him not; he is one of us.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even the key in the door of the old bureau is turned lightly and without noise.
+Groping fingers are searching for a bulky volume. Have they found it? Is there
+none there to cry in a voice of thunder: &ldquo;Cursed be the father who
+stretches forth his desecrating hand towards the things that are his
+children&rsquo;s&rdquo;?…
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They HAVE found it, the greedy fingers! and now, but a spring through the open
+window, and out into the night…
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At that moment a sudden ray of light shines through a crack in the door of the
+room… Swiftly the door opens, a girlish figure appears on the threshold, a
+lighted lamp in her hand…
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Gudule!&rdquo; he shrieks, horror-stricken, and falls senseless at her
+feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ascher was saved. The terrible blow which had struck him down had not crushed
+the life from him. He was awakened. But when, after four weeks of gruesome
+fever and delirium, his mind had somewhat regained its equilibrium, his hair
+had turned white as snow, and his children beheld an old, decrepit man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That which Viola had denied her father when he returned to them in all the
+vigor of his manhood, she now lavished upon him in his suffering and
+helplessness, with that concentrated power of love, the source of which is not
+human, but Divine. In the space of one night of terror, the merest bud of
+yesterday had suddenly blossomed forth into a flower of rarest beauty. Never
+did gentler hands cool a fever-heated brow, never did sweeter voice mingle its
+melody with the gruesome dreams of delirium.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On his sick-bed, lovingly tended by Ephraim and Viola, an ennobling influence
+gradually came over the heart of the old gambler, and so deeply touched it,
+that calm peace crowned his closing days. It was strange that the events of
+that memorable night, and the vicissitudes that had preceded it, had left no
+recollection behind, and his children took good care not to re-awaken, by the
+slightest hint, his sleeping memory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A carriage drew up one day in front of Ascher&rsquo;s house. There has
+evidently been a splendid crop of oats this year. Uncle Gabriel has come. Uncle
+Gabriel has only lately assumed the additional character of father-in-law to
+Ephraim, for he declared that none but Ephraim should be his pet
+daughter&rsquo;s husband. And now he has come for the purpose of having a
+confidential chat with Viola. There he sits, the kind-hearted, simple-minded
+man, every line of his honest face eloquent with good-humor and happiness,
+still guilty of an occasional violent onslaught upon his thighs. Viola still
+remains his &ldquo;little spit-fire.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Now, Viola, my little spit-fire,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;won&rsquo;t you
+yet allow me to talk to my Nathan about you? Upon my word, the boy can&rsquo;t
+bear the suspense any longer.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Uncle,&rdquo; says Viola, and a crimson blush dyes her pale cheeks:
+&ldquo;Uncle,&rdquo; she repeats, in a tone of such deep earnestness, that the
+laughing expression upon Gabriel&rsquo;s face instantly vanishes, &ldquo;please
+don&rsquo;t talk to him at all. MY place is with my father!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And to all appearances Viola will keep her word.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Had she taken upon herself a voluntary penance for having, in her heart&rsquo;s
+bitter despair, presumed to abjure her faith in the Sechûs of her mother? Or
+was there yet another reason? The heart of woman is a strangely sensitive
+thing. It loves not to build its happiness upon the hidden ruins of
+another&rsquo;s life.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap03"></a>THE SEVERED HAND</h2>
+
+<h5>BY WILHELM HAUFF</h5>
+
+<p>
+I was born in Constantinople; my father was a dragoman at the Porte, and
+besides, carried on a fairly lucrative business in sweet-scented perfumes and
+silk goods. He gave me a good education; he partly instructed me himself, and
+also had me instructed by one of our priests. He at first intended me to
+succeed him in business one day, but as I showed greater aptitude than he had
+expected, he destined me, on the advice of his friends, to be a doctor; for if
+a doctor has learned a little more than the ordinary charlatan, he can make his
+fortune in Constantinople. Many Franks frequented our house, and one of them
+persuaded my father to allow me to travel to his native land to the city of
+Paris, where such things could be best acquired and free of charge. He wished,
+however, to take me with himself gratuitously on his journey home. My father,
+who had also travelled in his youth, agreed, and the Frank told me to hold
+myself in readiness three months hence. I was beside myself with joy at the
+idea of seeing foreign countries, and eagerly awaited the moment when we should
+embark. The Frank had at last concluded his business and prepared himself for
+the journey. On the evening before our departure my father led me into his
+little bedroom. There I saw splendid dresses and arms lying on the table. My
+looks were however chiefly attracted to an immense heap of gold, for I had
+never before seen so much collected together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My father embraced me and said: &ldquo;Behold, my son, I have procured for thee
+clothes for the journey. These weapons are thine; they are the same which thy
+grandfather hung around me when I went abroad. I know that thou canst use them
+aright; but only make use of them when thou art attacked; on such occasions,
+however, defend thyself bravely. My property is not large; behold I have
+divided it into three parts, one part for thee, another for my support and
+spare money, but the third is to me a sacred and untouched property, it is for
+thee in the hour of need.&rdquo; Thus spoke my old father, tears standing in
+his eyes, perhaps from some foreboding, for I never saw him again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The journey passed off very well; we had soon reached the land of the Franks,
+and six days later we arrived in the large city of Paris. There my Frankish
+friend hired a room for me, and advised me to spend wisely my money, which
+amounted in all to two thousand dollars. I lived three years in this city, and
+learned what is necessary for a skilful doctor to know. I should not, however,
+be stating the truth if I said that I liked being there, for the customs of
+this nation displeased me; besides, I had only a few chosen friends there, and
+these were noble young men.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The longing after home at last possessed me mightily; during the whole of that
+time I had not heard anything from my father, and I therefore seized a
+favorable opportunity of reaching home. An embassy from France left for Turkey.
+I acted as surgeon to the suite of the Ambassador and arrived happily in
+Stamboul. My father&rsquo;s house was locked, and the neighbors, who were
+surprised on seeing me, told me my father had died two months ago. The priest
+who had instructed me in my youth brought me the key; alone and desolate I
+entered the empty house. All was still in the same position as my father had
+left it, only the gold which I was to inherit was gone. I questioned the priest
+about it, and he, bowing, said: &ldquo;Your father died a saint, for he has
+bequeathed his gold to the Church.&rdquo; This was and remained inexplicable to
+me. However, what could I do? I had no witness against the priest, and had to
+be glad that he had not considered the house and the goods of my father as a
+bequest. This was the first misfortune that I encountered. Henceforth nothing
+but ill-luck attended me. My reputation as doctor would not spread at all,
+because I was ashamed to act the charlatan; and I felt everywhere the want of
+the recommendation of my father, who would have introduced me to the richest
+and most distinguished, but who now no longer thought of the poor Zaleukos! The
+goods of my father also had no sale, for his customers had deserted him after
+his death, and new ones are only to be got slowly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus when I was one day meditating sadly over my position, it occurred to me
+that I had often seen in France men of my nation travelling through the country
+exhibiting their goods in the markets of the towns. I remembered that the
+people liked to buy of them, because they came from abroad, and that such a
+business would be most lucrative. Immediately I resolved what to do. I disposed
+of my father&rsquo;s house, gave part of the money to a trusty friend to keep
+for me, and with the rest I bought what are very rare in France, shawls, silk
+goods, ointments, and oils, took a berth on board a ship, and thus entered upon
+my second journey to the land of the Franks. It seemed as if fortune had
+favored me again as soon as I had turned my back upon the Castles of the
+Dardanelles. Our journey was short and successful. I travelled through the
+large and small towns of the Franks, and found everywhere willing buyers of my
+goods. My friend in Stamboul always sent me fresh stores, and my wealth
+increased day by day. When I had saved at last so much that I thought I might
+venture on a greater undertaking, I travelled with my goods to Italy. I must
+however confess to something, which brought me not a little money: I also
+employed my knowledge of physic. On reaching a town, I had it published that a
+Greek physician had arrived, who had already healed many; and in fact my balsam
+and medicine gained me many a sequin. Thus I had at length reached the city of
+Florence in Italy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I resolved upon remaining in this town for some time, partly because I liked it
+so well, partly also because I wished to recruit myself from the exertions of
+my travels. I hired a vaulted shop, in that part of the town called Sta. Croce,
+and not far from this a couple of nice rooms at an inn, leading out upon a
+balcony. I immediately had my bills circulated, which announced me to be both
+physician and merchant. Scarcely had I opened my shop when I was besieged by
+buyers, and in spite of my high prices I sold more than any one else, because I
+was obliging and friendly towards my customers. Thus I had already lived four
+days happily in Florence, when one evening, as I was about to close my vaulted
+room, and on examining once more the contents of my ointment boxes, as I was in
+the habit of doing, I found in one of the small boxes a piece of paper, which I
+did not remember to have put into it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I unfolded the paper, and found in it an invitation to be on the bridge which
+is called Ponto Vecchio that night exactly at midnight. I was thinking for a
+long time as to who it might be who had invited me there; and not knowing a
+single soul in Florence, I thought perhaps I should be secretly conducted to a
+patient, a thing which had already often occurred. I therefore determined to
+proceed thither, but took care to gird on the sword which my father had once
+presented to me. When it was close upon midnight I set out on my journey, and
+soon reached the Ponte Vecchio. I found the bridge deserted, and determined to
+await the appearance of him who called me. It was a cold night; the moon shone
+brightly, and I looked down upon the waves of the Arno, which sparkled far away
+in the moonlight. It was now striking twelve o&rsquo;clock from all the
+churches of the city, when I looked up and saw a tall man standing before me
+completely covered in a scarlet cloak, one end of which hid his face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At first I was somewhat frightened, because he had made his appearance so
+suddenly; but was however myself again shortly afterwards, and said: &ldquo;If
+it is you who have ordered me here, say what you want?&rdquo; The man dressed
+in scarlet turned round and said in an undertone: &ldquo;Follow!&rdquo; At
+this, however, I felt a little timid to go alone with this stranger. I stood
+still and said: &ldquo;Not so, sir, kindly first tell me where; you might also
+let me see your countenance a little, in order to convince me that you wish me
+no harm.&rdquo; The red one, however, did not seem to pay any attention to
+this. &ldquo;If thou art unwilling, Zaleukos, remain,&rdquo; he replied, and
+continued his way. I grew angry. &ldquo;Do you think,&rdquo; I exclaimed,
+&ldquo;a man like myself allows himself to be made a fool of, and to have
+waited on this cold night for nothing?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In three bounds I had reached him, seized him by his cloak, and cried still
+louder, whilst laying hold of my sabre with my other hand. His cloak, however,
+remained in my hand, and the stranger had disappeared round the nearest corner.
+I became calmer by degrees. I had the cloak at any rate, and it was this which
+would give me the key to this remarkable adventure. I put it on and continued
+my way home. When I was at a distance of about a hundred paces from it, some
+one brushed very closely by me and whispered in the language of the Franks:
+&ldquo;Take care, Count, nothing can be done to-night.&rdquo; Before I had
+time, however, to turn round, this somebody had passed, and I merely saw a
+shadow hovering along the houses. I perceived that these words did not concern
+me, but rather the cloak, yet it gave me no explanation concerning the affair.
+On the following morning I considered what was to be done. At first I had
+intended to have the cloak cried in the streets, as if I had found it. But then
+the stranger might send for it by a third person, and thus no light would be
+thrown upon the matter. Whilst I was thus thinking, I examined the cloak more
+closely. It was made of thick Genoese velvet, scarlet in color, edged with
+Astrachan fur and richly embroidered with gold. The magnificent appearance of
+the cloak put a thought into my mind which I resolved to carry out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I carried it into my shop and exposed it for sale, but placed such a high price
+upon it that I was sure nobody would buy it. My object in this was to
+scrutinize everybody sharply who might ask for the fur cloak; for the figure of
+the stranger, which I had seen but superficially, though with some certainty,
+after the loss of the cloak, I should recognize amongst a thousand. There were
+many would-be purchasers for the cloak, the extraordinary beauty of which
+attracted everybody; but none resembled the stranger in the slightest degree,
+and nobody was willing to pay such a high price as two hundred sequins for it.
+What astonished me was that on asking somebody or other if there was not such a
+cloak in Florence, they all answered &ldquo;No,&rdquo; and assured me they
+never had seen so precious and tasteful a piece of work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Evening was drawing near, when at last a young man appeared, who had already
+been to my place, and who had also offered me a great deal for the cloak. He
+threw a purse with sequins upon the table, and exclaimed: &ldquo;Of a truth,
+Zaleukos, I must have thy cloak, should I turn into a beggar over it!&rdquo; He
+immediately began to count his pieces of gold. I was in a dangerous position: I
+had only exposed the cloak, in order merely to attract the attention of my
+stranger, and now a young fool came to pay an immense price for it. However,
+what could I do? I yielded; for on the other hand I was delighted at the idea
+of being so handsomely recompensed for my nocturnal adventure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The young man put the cloak around him and went away, but on reaching the
+threshold he returned; whilst unfastening a piece of paper which had been tied
+to the cloak, and throwing it towards me, he exclaimed: &ldquo;Here, Zaleukos,
+hangs something which I dare say does not belong to the cloak.&rdquo; I picked
+up the piece of paper carelessly, but behold, on it these words were written:
+&ldquo;Bring the cloak at the appointed hour to-night to the Ponte Vecchio,
+four hundred sequins are thine.&rdquo; I stood thunderstruck. Thus I had lost
+my fortune and completely missed my aim! Yet I did not think long. I picked up
+the two hundred sequins, jumped after the one who had bought the cloak, and
+said: &ldquo;Dear friend, take back your sequins, and give me the cloak; I
+cannot possibly part with it.&rdquo; He first regarded the matter as a joke;
+but when he saw that I was in earnest, he became angry at my demand, called me
+a fool, and finally it came to blows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, I was fortunate enough to wrench the cloak from him in the scuffle,
+and was about to run away with it, when the young man called the police to his
+assistance, and we both appeared before the judge. The latter was much
+surprised at the accusation, and adjudicated the cloak in favor of my
+adversary. I offered the young man twenty, fifty, eighty, even a hundred
+sequins in addition to his two hundred, if he would part with the cloak. What
+my entreaties could not do, my gold did. He accepted it. I, however, went away
+with the cloak triumphantly, and had to appear to the whole town of Florence as
+a madman. I did not care, however, about the opinion of the people; I knew
+better than they that I profited after all by the bargain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Impatiently I awaited the night. At the same hour as before I went with the
+cloak under my arm towards the Ponte Vecchio. With the last stroke of twelve
+the figure appeared out of the darkness, and came towards me. It was
+unmistakably the man whom I had seen yesterday. &ldquo;Hast thou the
+cloak?&rdquo; he asked me. &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; I replied; &ldquo;but it
+cost me a hundred sequins ready money.&rdquo; &ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; replied
+the other &ldquo;Look here, here are four hundred.&rdquo; He went with me
+towards the wide balustrade of the bridge, and counted out the money. There
+were four hundred; they sparkled magnificently in the moonlight; their glitter
+rejoiced my heart. Alas, I did not anticipate that this would be its last joy.
+I put the money into my pocket, and was desirous of thoroughly looking at my
+kind and unknown stranger; but he wore a mask, through which dark eyes stared
+at me frightfully. &ldquo;I thank you, sir, for your kindness,&rdquo; I said to
+him; &ldquo;what else do you require of me? I tell you beforehand it must be an
+honorable transaction.&rdquo; &ldquo;There is no occasion for alarm,&rdquo; he
+replied, whilst winding the cloak around his shoulders; &ldquo;I require your
+assistance as surgeon, not for one alive, but dead.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; I exclaimed, full of surprise. &ldquo;I arrived
+with my sister from abroad.&rdquo; he said, and beckoned me at the same time to
+follow him. &ldquo;I lived here with her at the house of a friend. My sister
+died yesterday suddenly of a disease, and my relatives wish to bury her
+to-morrow. According to an old custom of our family all are to be buried in the
+tomb of our ancestors; many, notwithstanding, who died in foreign countries are
+buried there and embalmed. I do not grudge my relatives her body, but for my
+father I want at least the head of his daughter, in order that he may see her
+once more.&rdquo; This custom of severing the heads of beloved relatives
+appeared to me somewhat awful, yet I did not dare to object to it lest I should
+offend the stranger. I told him that I was acquainted with the embalming of the
+dead, and begged him to conduct me to the deceased. Yet I could not help asking
+him why all this must be done so mysteriously and at night? He answered me that
+his relatives, who considered his intention horrible, objected to it by
+daylight; if only the head were severed, then they could say no more about it;
+although he might have brought me the head, yet a natural feeling had prevented
+him from severing it himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the meantime we had reached a large, splendid house. My companion pointed it
+out to me as the end of our nocturnal walk. We passed the principal entrance of
+the house, entered a little door, which the stranger carefully locked behind
+him, and now ascended in the dark a narrow spiral staircase. It led towards a
+dimly lighted passage, out of which we entered a room lighted by a lamp
+fastened to the ceiling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this room was a bed, on which the corpse lay. The stranger turned aside his
+face, evidently endeavoring to hide his tears. He pointed towards the bed,
+telling me to do my business well and quickly, and left the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took my instruments, which I as surgeon always carried about with me, and
+approached the bed. Only the head of the corpse was visible, and it was so
+beautiful that I experienced involuntarily the deepest sympathy. Dark hair hung
+down in long plaits, the features were pale, the eyes closed. At first I made
+an incision into the skin, after the manner of surgeons when amputating a limb.
+I then took my sharpest knife, and with one stroke cut the throat. But oh,
+horror! The dead opened her eyes, but immediately closed them again, and with a
+deep sigh she now seemed to breathe her last. At the same moment a stream of
+hot blood shot towards me from the wound. I was convinced that the poor
+creature had been killed by me. That she was dead there was no doubt, for there
+was no recovery from this wound. I stood for some minutes in painful anguish at
+what had happened. Had the &ldquo;red-cloak&rdquo; deceived me, or had his
+sister perhaps merely been apparently dead? The latter seemed to me more
+likely. But I dare not tell the brother of the deceased that perhaps a little
+less deliberate cut might have awakened her without killing her; therefore I
+wished to sever the head completely; but once more the dying woman groaned,
+stretched herself out in painful movements, and died.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Fright overpowered me, and shuddering, I hastened out of the room. But outside
+in the passage it was dark; for the light was out, no trace of my companion was
+to be seen, and I was obliged, haphazard, to feel my way in the dark along the
+wall, in order to reach the staircase. I discovered it at last and descended,
+partly falling and partly gliding. But there was not a soul downstairs. I
+merely found the door ajar, and breathed freer on reaching the street, for I
+had felt very strange inside the house. Urged on by terror, I rushed towards my
+dwelling-place, and buried myself in the cushions of my bed, in order to forget
+the terrible thing that I had done.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But sleep deserted me, and only the morning admonished me again to take
+courage. It seemed to me probable that the man who had induced me to commit
+this nefarious deed, as it now appeared to me, might not denounce me. I
+immediately resolved to set to work in my vaulted room, and if possible to
+assume an indifferent look. But alas! an additional circumstance, which I only
+now noticed, increased my anxiety still more. My cap and my girdle, as well as
+my instruments, were wanting, and I was uncertain as to whether I had left them
+in the room of the murdered girl, or whether I had lost them in my flight. The
+former seemed indeed the more likely, and thus I could easily be discovered as
+the murderer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the accustomed hour I opened my vaulted room. My neighbor came in, as was
+his wont every morning, for he was a talkative man. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he
+said, &ldquo;what do you say about the terrible affair which has occurred
+during the night?&rdquo; I pretended not to know anything. &ldquo;What, do you
+not know what is known all over the town? Are you not aware that the loveliest
+flower in Florence, Bianca, the Governor&rsquo;s daughter, was murdered last
+night? I saw her only yesterday driving through the streets in so cheerful a
+manner with her intended one, for to-day the marriage was to have taken
+place.&rdquo; I felt deeply wounded at each word of my neighbor. Many a time my
+torment was renewed, for every one of my customers told me of the affair, each
+one more ghastly than the other, and yet nobody could relate anything more
+terrible than that which I had seen myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About mid-day a police-officer entered my shop and requested me to send the
+people away. &ldquo;Signor Zaleukos&rdquo; he said, producing the things which
+I had missed, &ldquo;do these things belong to you?&rdquo; I was thinking as to
+whether I should not entirely repudiate them, but on seeing through the door,
+which stood ajar, my landlord and several acquaintances, I determined not to
+aggravate the affair by telling a lie, and acknowledged myself as the owner of
+the things. The police-officer asked me to follow him, and led me towards a
+large building which I soon recognized as the prison. There he showed me into a
+room meanwhile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My situation was terrible, as I thought of it in my solitude. The idea of
+having committed a murder, unintentionally, constantly presented itself to my
+mind. I also could not conceal from myself that the glitter of the gold had
+captivated my feelings, otherwise I should not have fallen blindly into the
+trap. Two hours after my arrest I was led out of my cell. I descended several
+steps until at last I reached a great hall. Around a long table draped in black
+were seated twelve men, mostly old men. There were benches along the sides of
+the hall, filled with the most distinguished of Florence. The galleries, which
+were above, were thickly crowded with spectators. When I had stepped towards
+the table covered with black cloth, a man with a gloomy and sad countenance
+rose; it was the Governor. He said to the assembly that he as the father in
+this affair could not sentence, and that he resigned his place on this occasion
+to the eldest of the Senators. The eldest of the Senators was an old man at
+least ninety years of age. He stood in a bent attitude, and his temples were
+covered with thin white hair, but his eyes were as yet very fiery, and his
+voice powerful and weighty. He commenced by asking me whether I confessed to
+the murder. I requested him to allow me to speak, and related undauntedly and
+with a clear voice what I had done, and what I knew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I noticed that the Governor, during my recital, at one time turned pale, and at
+another time red. When I had finished, he rose angrily: &ldquo;What,
+wretch!&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;dost thou even dare to impute a crime which
+thou hast committed from greediness to another?&rdquo; The Senator reprimanded
+him for his interruption, since he had voluntarily renounced his right; besides
+it was not clear that I did the deed from greediness, for, according to his own
+statement, nothing had been stolen from the victim. He even went further. He
+told the Governor that he must give an account of the early life of his
+daughter, for then only it would be possible to decide whether I had spoken the
+truth or not. At the same time he adjourned the court for the day, in order, as
+he said, to consult the papers of the deceased, which the Governor would give
+him. I was again taken back to my prison, where I spent a wretched day, always
+fervently wishing that a link between the deceased and the
+&ldquo;red-cloak&rdquo; might be discovered. Full of hope, I entered the Court
+of Justice the next day. Several letters were lying upon the table. The old
+Senator asked me whether they were in my hand-writing. I looked at them and
+noticed that they must have been written by the same hand as the other two
+papers which I had received. I communicated this to the Senators, but no
+attention was paid to it, and they told me that I might have written both, for
+the signature of the letters was undoubtedly a Z., the first letter of my name.
+The letters, however, contained threats against the deceased, and warnings
+against the marriage which she was about to contract.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Governor seemed to have given extraordinary information concerning me, for
+I was treated with more suspicion and rigor on this day. I referred, to justify
+myself, to my papers which must be in my room, but was told they had been
+looked for without success. Thus at the conclusion of this sitting all hope
+vanished, and on being brought into the Court the third day, judgment was
+pronounced on me. I was convicted of wilful murder and condemned to death.
+Things had come to such a pass! Deserted by all that was precious to me upon
+earth, far away from home, I was to die innocently in the bloom of my life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the evening of this terrible day which had decided my fate, I was sitting in
+my lonely cell, my hopes were gone, my thoughts steadfastly fixed upon death,
+when the door of my prison opened, and in came a man, who for a long time
+looked at me silently. &ldquo;Is it thus I find you again, Zaleukos?&rdquo; he
+said. I had not recognized him by the dim light of my lamp, but the sound of
+his voice roused in me old remembrances. It was Valetti, one of those few
+friends whose acquaintance I made in the city of Paris when I was studying
+there. He said that he had come to Florence accidentally, where his father, who
+was a distinguished man, lived. He had heard about my affair, and had come to
+see me once more, and to hear from my own lips how I could have committed such
+a crime. I related to him the whole affair. He seemed much surprised at it, and
+adjured me, as my only friend, to tell him all, in order not to leave the world
+with a lie behind me. I confirmed my assertions with an oath that I had spoken
+the truth, and that I was not guilty of anything, except that the glitter of
+the gold had dazzled me, and that I had not perceived the improbability of the
+story of the stranger. &ldquo;Did you not know Bianca?&rdquo; he asked me. I
+assured him that I had never seen her. Valetti now related to me that a
+profound mystery rested on the affair, that the Governor had very much
+accelerated my condemnation, and now a report was spread that I had known
+Bianca for a long time, and had murdered her out of revenge for her marriage
+with some one else. I told him that all this coincided exactly with the
+&ldquo;red-cloak,&rdquo; but that I was unable to prove his participation in
+the affair. Valetti embraced me weeping, and promised me to do all, at least to
+save my life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had little hope, though I knew that Valetti a clever man, well versed in the
+law, and that he would do all in his power to save my life. For two long days I
+was in uncertainty; at last Valetti appeared. &ldquo;I bring consolation,
+though painful. You will live and be free with the loss of one hand.&rdquo;
+Affected, I thanked my friend for saving my life. He told me that the Governor
+had been inexorable in having the affair investigated a second time, but that
+he at last, in order not to appear unjust, had agreed, that if a similar case
+could be found in the law books of the history of Florence, my punishment
+should be the same as the one recorded in these books. He and his father had
+searched in the old books day and night, and at last found a case quite similar
+to mine. The sentence was: That his left hand be cut off, his property
+confiscated, and he himself banished for ever. This was my punishment also, and
+he asked me to prepare for the painful hour which awaited me. I will not
+describe to you that terrible hour, when I laid my hand upon the block in the
+public market-place and my own blood shot over me in broad streams.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Valetti took me to his house until I had recovered; he then most generously
+supplied me with money for travelling, for all I had acquired with so much
+difficulty had fallen a prey to the law. I left Florence for Sicily and
+embarked on the first ship that I found for Constantinople. My hope was fixed
+upon the sum which I had entrusted to my friend. I also requested to be allowed
+to live with him. But how great was my astonishment on being asked why I did
+not wish to live in my own house. He told me that some unknown man had bought a
+house in the Greek Quarter in my name, and this very man had also told the
+neighbors of my early arrival. I immediately proceeded thither accompanied by
+my friend, and was received by all my old acquaintances joyfully. An old
+merchant gave me a letter, which the man who had bought the house for me had
+left behind. I read as follows: &ldquo;Zaleukos! Two hands are prepared to work
+incessantly, in order that you may not feel the loss of one of yours. The house
+which you see and all its contents are yours, and every year you will receive
+enough to be counted amongst the rich of your people. Forgive him who is
+unhappier than yourself!&rdquo; I could guess who had written it, and in answer
+to my question, the merchant told me it had been a man, whom he took for a
+Frank, and who had worn a scarlet cloak. I knew enough to understand that the
+stranger was, after all, not entirely devoid of noble intentions. In my new
+house I found everything arranged in the best style, also a vaulted room stored
+with goods, more splendid than I had ever had. Ten years have passed since. I
+still continue my commercial travels, more from old custom than necessity, yet
+I have never again seen that country where I became so unfortunate. Every year
+since, I have received a thousand gold-pieces; and although I rejoice to know
+that unfortunate man to be noble, yet he cannot relieve me of the sorrow of my
+soul, for the terrible picture of the murdered Bianca is continually on my
+mind.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap04"></a>PETER SCHLEMIHL</h2>
+
+<h5>BY ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO</h5>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<p>
+After a prosperous, but to me very wearisome, voyage, we came at last into
+port. Immediately on landing I got together my few effects; and, squeezing
+myself through the crowd, went into the nearest and humblest inn which first
+met my gaze. On asking for a room the waiter looked at me from head to foot,
+and conducted me to one. I asked for some cold water, and for the correct
+address of Mr. Thomas John, which was described as being &ldquo;by the north
+gate, the first country-house to the right, a large new house of red and white
+marble, with many pillars.&rdquo; This was enough. As the day was not yet far
+advanced, I untied my bundle, took out my newly-turned black coat, dressed
+myself in my best clothes, and, with my letter of recommendation, set out for
+the man who was to assist me in the attainment of my moderate wishes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After proceeding up the north street, I reached the gate, and saw the marble
+columns glittering through the trees. Having wiped the dust from my shoes with
+my pocket-handkerchief, and readjusted my cravat, I rang the
+bell&mdash;offering up at the same time a silent prayer. The door flew open,
+and the porter sent in my name. I had soon the honor to be invited into the
+park, where Mr. John was walking with a few friends. I recognized him at once
+by his corpulency and self-complacent air. He received me very well&mdash;just
+as a rich man receives a poor devil; and turning to me, took my letter.
+&ldquo;Oh, from my brother! it is a long time since I heard from him: is he
+well?&mdash;Yonder,&rdquo; he went on,&mdash;turning to the company, and
+pointing to a distant hill&mdash;&ldquo;yonder is the site of the new
+building.&rdquo; He broke the seal without discontinuing the conversation,
+which turned upon riches. &ldquo;The man,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;who does not
+possess at least a million is a poor wretch.&rdquo; &ldquo;Oh, how true!&rdquo;
+I exclaimed, in the fulness of my heart. He seemed pleased at this, and replied
+with a smile: &ldquo;Stop here, my dear friend; afterwards I shall, perhaps,
+have time to tell you what I think of this,&rdquo; pointing to the letter,
+which he then put into his pocket, and turned round to the company, offering
+his arm to a young lady: his example was followed by the other gentlemen, each
+politely escorting a lady; and the whole party proceeded towards a little hill
+thickly planted with blooming roses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I followed without troubling any one, for none took the least further notice of
+me. The party was in high spirits&mdash;lounging about and
+jesting&mdash;speaking sometimes of trifling matters very seriously, and of
+serious matters as triflingly&mdash;and exercising their wit in particular to
+great advantage on their absent friends and their affairs. I was too ignorant
+of what they were talking about to understand much of it, and too anxious and
+absorbed in my own reflections to occupy myself with the solution of such
+enigmas as their conversation presented.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time we had reached the thicket of roses. The lovely Fanny, who seemed
+to be the queen of the day, was obstinately bent on plucking a rose-branch for
+herself, and in the attempt pricked her finger with a thorn. The crimson
+stream, as if flowing from the dark-tinted rose, tinged her fair hand with the
+purple current. This circumstance set the whole company in commotion; and
+court-plaster was called for. A quiet, elderly man, tall and meagre-looking,
+who was one of the company, but whom I had not before observed, immediately put
+his hand into the tight breast-pocket of his old-fashioned coat of gray
+sarcenet, pulled out a small letter-case, opened it, and, with a most
+respectful bow, presented the lady with the wished-for article. She received it
+without noticing the giver, or thanking him. The wound was bound up, and the
+party proceeded along the hill towards the back part, from which they enjoyed
+an extensive view across the green labyrinth of the park to the wide-spreading
+ocean. The view was truly a magnificent one. A slight speck was observed on the
+horizon, between the dark flood and the azure sky. &ldquo;A telescope!&rdquo;
+called out Mr. John; but before any of the servants could answer the summons
+the gray man, with a modest bow, drew his hand from his pocket, and presented a
+beautiful Dollond&rsquo;s telescope to Mr. John, who, on looking through it,
+informed the company that the speck in the distance was the ship which had
+sailed yesterday, and which was detained within sight of the haven by contrary
+winds. The telescope passed from hand to hand, but was not returned to the
+owner, whom I gazed at with astonishment, and could not conceive how so large
+an instrument could have proceeded from so small a pocket. This, however,
+seemed to excite surprise in no one; and the gray man appeared to create as
+little interest as myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Refreshments were now brought forward, consisting of the rarest fruits from all
+parts of the world, served up in the most costly dishes. Mr. John did the
+honors with unaffected grace, and addressed me for the second time, saying,
+&ldquo;You had better eat; you did not get such things at sea.&rdquo; I
+acknowledged his politeness with a bow, which, however, he did not perceive,
+having turned round to speak with some one else.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The party would willingly have stopped some time here on the declivity of the
+hill, to enjoy the extensive prospect before them, had they not been
+apprehensive of the dampness of the grass. &ldquo;How delightful it would
+be,&rdquo; exclaimed some one, &ldquo;if we had a Turkey carpet to lay down
+here!&rdquo; The wish was scarcely expressed when the man in the gray coat put
+his hand in his pocket, and, with a modest and even humble air, pulled out a
+rich Turkey carpet, embroidered in gold. The servant received it as a matter of
+course, and spread it out on the desired spot; and, without any ceremony, the
+company seated themselves on it. Confounded by what I saw, I gazed again at the
+man, his pocket, and the carpet, which was more than twenty feet in length and
+ten in breadth, and rubbed my eyes, not knowing what to think, particularly as
+no one saw anything extraordinary in the matter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I would gladly have made some inquiries respecting the man, and asked who he
+was, but knew not to whom I should address myself, for I felt almost more
+afraid of the servants than of their master. At length I took courage, and
+stepping up to a young man who seemed of less consequence than the others, and
+who was more frequently standing by himself, I begged of him, in a low tone, to
+tell me who the obliging gentleman was in the gray cloak. &ldquo;That man who
+looks like a piece of thread just escaped from a tailor&rsquo;s needle?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Yes; he who is standing alone yonder.&rdquo; &ldquo;I do not
+know,&rdquo; was the reply; and to avoid, as it seemed, any further
+conversation with me, he turned away, and spoke of some commonplace matters
+with a neighbor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sun&rsquo;s rays now being stronger, the ladies complained of feeling
+oppressed by the heat; and the lovely Fanny, turning carelessly to the gray
+man, to whom I had not yet observed that any one had addressed the most
+trifling question, asked him if, perhaps, he had not a tent about him. He
+replied, with a low bow, as if some unmerited honor had been conferred upon
+him; and, putting his hand in his pocket, drew from it canvas, poles, cord,
+iron&mdash;in short, everything belonging to the most splendid tent for a party
+of pleasure. The young gentlemen assisted in pitching it; and it covered the
+whole carpet; but no one seemed to think that there was anything extraordinary
+in it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had long secretly felt uneasy&mdash;indeed, almost horrified; but how was
+this feeling increased when, at the next wish expressed, I saw him take from
+his pocket three horses! Yes, Adelbert, three large beautiful steeds, with
+saddles and bridles, out of the very pocket whence had already issued a
+letter-case, a telescope, a carpet twenty feet broad and ten in length, and a
+pavilion of the same extent, with all its appurtenances! Did I not assure thee
+that my own eyes had seen all this, thou wouldst certainly disbelieve it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This man, although he appeared so humble and embarrassed in his air and
+manners, and passed so unheeded, had inspired me with such a feeling of horror
+by the unearthly paleness of his countenance, from which I could not avert my
+eyes, that I was unable longer to endure it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I determined, therefore, to steal away from the company, which appeared no
+difficult matter, from the undistinguished part I acted in it. I resolved to
+return to the town, and pay another visit to Mr. John the following morning,
+and, at the same time, make some inquiries of him relative to the extraordinary
+man in gray, provided I could command sufficient courage. Would to Heaven that
+such good fortune had awaited me!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had stolen safely down the hill, through the thicket of roses, and now found
+myself on an open plain; but fearing lest I should be met out of the proper
+path, crossing the grass, I cast an inquisitive glance around, and started as I
+beheld the man in the gray cloak advancing towards me. He took off his hat, and
+made me a lower bow than mortal had ever yet favored me with. It was evident
+that he wished to address me; and I could not avoid encountering him without
+seeming rude. I returned his salutation, therefore, and stood bareheaded in the
+sunshine as if rooted to the ground. I gazed at him with the utmost horror, and
+felt like a bird fascinated by a serpent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He affected himself to have an air of embarassment. With his eyes on the
+ground, he bowed several times, drew nearer, and at last, without looking up,
+addressed me in a low and hesitating voice, almost in the tone of a suppliant:
+&ldquo;Will you, sir, excuse my importunity in venturing to intrude upon you in
+so unusual a manner? I have a request to make&mdash;would you most graciously
+be pleased to allow me&mdash;?&rdquo; &ldquo;Hold! for Heaven&rsquo;s
+sake!&rdquo; I exclaimed; &ldquo;what can I do for a man who&mdash;&rdquo; I
+stopped in some confusion, which he seemed to share. After a moment&rsquo;s
+pause he resumed: &ldquo;During the short time I have had the pleasure to be in
+your company, I have&mdash;permit me, sir, to say&mdash;beheld with unspeakable
+admiration your most beautiful shadow, and remarked the air of noble
+indifference with which you, at the same time, turn from the glorious picture
+at your feet, as if disdaining to vouchsafe a glance at it. Excuse the boldness
+of my proposal; but perhaps you would have no objection to sell me your
+shadow?&rdquo; He stopped, while my head turned round like a mill-wheel. What
+was I to think of so extraordinary a proposal? To sell my shadow! &ldquo;He
+must be mad,&rdquo; thought I; and assuming a tone more in character with the
+submissiveness of his own, I replied, &ldquo;My good friend, are you not
+content with your own shadow? This would be a bargain of a strange nature
+indeed!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have in my pocket,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;many things which may
+possess some value in your eyes: for that inestimable shadow I should deem the
+highest price too little.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A cold shuddering came over me as I recollected the pocket; and I could not
+conceive what had induced me to style him &ldquo;GOOD FRIEND,&rdquo; which I
+took care not to repeat, endeavoring to make up for it by studied politeness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now resumed the conversation: &ldquo;But, sir&mdash;excuse your humble
+servant&mdash;I am at a loss to comprehend your meaning,&mdash;my
+shadow?&mdash;how can I?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Permit me,&rdquo; he exclaimed, interrupting me, &ldquo;to gather up the
+noble image as it lies on the ground, and to take it into my possession. As to
+the manner of accomplishing it, leave that to me. In return, and as an evidence
+of my gratitude, I shall leave you to choose among all the treasures I have in
+my pocket, among which are a variety of enchanting articles, not exactly
+adapted for you, who, I am sure, would like better to have the wishing-cap of
+Fortunatus, all made new and sound again, and a lucky purse which also belonged
+to him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fortunatus&rsquo;s purse!&rdquo; cried I; and, great as was my mental
+anguish, with that one word he had penetrated the deepest recesses of my soul.
+A feeling of giddiness came over me, and double ducats glittered before my
+eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be pleased, gracious sir, to examine this purse, and make a trial of its
+contents.&rdquo; He put his hand in his pocket, and drew forth a large strongly
+stitched bag of stout Cordovan leather, with a couple of strings to match, and
+presented it to me. I seized it&mdash;took out ten gold-pieces, then ten more,
+and this I repeated again and again. Instantly I held out my hand to him.
+&ldquo;Done,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;the bargain is made: my shadow for the
+purse.&rdquo; &ldquo;Agreed,&rdquo; he answered; and, immediately kneeling
+down, I beheld him, with extraordinary dexterity, gently loosen my shadow from
+the grass, lift it up, fold it together, and, at last, put it his pocket. He
+then rose, bowed once more to me, and directed his steps towards the rose
+bushes. I fancied I heard him quietly laughing to himself. However, I held the
+purse fast by the two strings. The earth was basking beneath the brightness of
+the sun; but I presently lost all consciousness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On recovering my senses, I hastened to quit a place where I hoped there was
+nothing further to detain me. I first filled my pockets with gold, then
+fastened the strings of the purse round my neck, and concealed it in my bosom.
+I passed unnoticed out of the park, gained the high-road, and took the way to
+the town. As I was thoughtfully approaching the gate, I heard some one behind
+me exclaiming: &ldquo;Young man! young man! you have lost your shadow!&rdquo; I
+turned, and perceived an old woman calling after me. &ldquo;Thank you, my good
+woman,&rdquo; said I; and throwing her a piece of gold for her well-intended
+information, I stepped under the trees. At the gate, again, it was my fate to
+hear the sentry inquiring where the gentleman had left his shadow; and
+immediately I heard a couple of women exclaiming, &ldquo;Jesu Maria! the poor
+man has no shadow.&rdquo; All this began to depress me, and I carefully avoided
+walking in the sun; but this could not everywhere be the case: for in the next
+broad street I had to cross, and, unfortunately for me, at the very hour in
+which the boys were coming out of school, a humpbacked lout of a fellow&mdash;I
+see him yet&mdash;soon made the discovery that I was without a shadow, and
+communicated the news, with loud outcries, to a knot of young urchins. The
+whole swarm proceeded immediately to reconnoitre me, and to pelt me with mud.
+&ldquo;People,&rdquo; cried they, &ldquo;are generally accustomed to take their
+shadows with them when they walk in the sunshine.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In order to drive them away I threw gold by handfuls among them, and sprang
+into a hackney-coach which some compassionate spectators sent to my rescue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as I found myself alone in the rolling vehicle I began to weep
+bitterly. I had by this time a misgiving that, in the same degree in which gold
+in this world prevails over merit and virtue, by so much one&rsquo;s shadow
+excels gold; and now that I had sacrificed my conscience for riches, and given
+my shadow in exchange for mere gold, what on earth would become of me?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the coach stopped at the door of my late inn, I felt much perplexed, and not
+at all disposed to enter so wretched an abode. I called for my things, and
+received them with an air of contempt, threw down a few gold-pieces, and
+desired to be conducted to a first-rate hotel. This house had a northern
+aspect, so that I had nothing to fear from the sun. I dismissed the coachman
+with gold, asked to be conducted to the best apartment, and locked myself up in
+it as soon as possible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Imagine, my friend, what I then set about? O my dear Chamisso! even to thee I
+blush to mention what follows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I drew the ill-fated purse from my bosom; and, in a sort of frenzy that raged
+like a self-fed fire within me, I took out
+gold&mdash;gold&mdash;gold&mdash;more and more, till I strewed it on the floor,
+trampled upon it, and feasting on its very sound and brilliancy, added coins to
+coins, rolling and revelling on the gorgeous bed, until I sank exhausted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus passed away that day and evening; and as my door remained locked, night
+found me still lying on the gold, where, at last, sleep overpowered me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then I dreamed of thee, and fancied I stood behind the glass door of thy little
+room, and saw thee seated at thy table between a skeleton and a bunch of dried
+plants; before thee lay open the works of Haller, Humboldt, and Linnaeus; on
+thy sofa a volume of Goethe, and the Enchanted Ring. I stood a long time
+contemplating thee, and everything in thy apartment; and again turning my gaze
+upon thee, I perceived that thou wast motionless&mdash;thou didst not
+breathe&mdash;thou wast dead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I awoke&mdash;it seemed yet early&mdash;my watch had stopped. I felt thirsty,
+faint, and worn out; for since the preceding morning I had not tasted food. I
+now cast from me, with loathing and disgust, the very gold with which but a
+short time before I had satiated my foolish heart. Now I knew not where to put
+it&mdash;I dared not leave it lying there. I examined my purse to see if it
+would hold it,&mdash;impossible! Neither of my windows opened on the sea. I had
+no other resource but, with toil and great fatigue, to drag it to a huge chest
+which stood in a closet in my room; where I placed it all, with the exception
+of a handful or two. Then I threw myself, exhausted, into an arm-chair, till
+the people of the house should be up and stirring. As soon as possible I sent
+for some refreshment, and desired to see the landlord.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I entered into some conversation with this man respecting the arrangement of my
+future establishment. He recommended for my personal attendant one Bendel,
+whose honest and intelligent countenance immediately prepossessed me in his
+favor. It is this individual whose persevering attachment has consoled me in
+all the miseries of my life, and enabled me to bear up under my wretched lot. I
+was occupied the whole day in my room with servants in want of a situation, and
+tradesmen of every description. I decided on my future plans, and purchased
+various articles of vertu and splendid jewels, in order to get rid of some of
+my gold; but nothing seemed to diminish the inexhaustible heap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now reflected on my situation with the utmost uneasiness. I dared not take a
+single step beyond my own door; and in the evening I had forty wax tapers
+lighted before I ventured to leave the shade. I reflected with horror on the
+frightful encounter with the schoolboys; yet I resolved, if I could command
+sufficient courage, to put the public opinion to a second trial. The nights
+were now moonlight. Late in the evening I wrapped myself in a large cloak,
+pulled my hat over my eyes, and, trembling like a criminal, stole out of the
+house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did not venture to leave the friendly shadow of the houses until I had
+reached a distant part of the town; and then I emerged into the broad
+moonlight, fully prepared to hear my fate from the lips of the passers-by.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Spare me, my beloved friend, the painful recital of all that I was doomed to
+endure. The women often expressed the deepest sympathy for me&mdash;a sympathy
+not less piercing to my soul than the scoffs of the young people, and the proud
+contempt of the men, particularly of the more corpulent, who threw an ample
+shadow before them. A fair and beauteous maiden, apparently accompanied by her
+parents, who gravely kept looking straight before them, chanced to cast a
+beaming glance on me; but was evidently startled at perceiving that I was
+without a shadow, and hiding her lovely face in her veil, and holding down her
+head, passed silently on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was past all endurance. Tears streamed from my eyes; and with a heart
+pierced through and through, I once more took refuge in the shade. I leaned on
+the houses for support, and reached home at a late hour, worn out with fatigue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I passed a sleepless night. My first care the following morning was to devise
+some means of discovering the man in the gray cloak. Perhaps I may succeed in
+finding him; and how fortunate it were if he should be as ill satisfied with
+his bargain as I am with mine!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I desired Bendel to be sent for, who seemed to possess some tact and ability. I
+minutely described to him the individual who possessed a treasure without which
+life itself was rendered a burden to me. I mentioned the time and place at
+which I had seen him, named all the persons who were present, and concluded
+with the following directions: He was to inquire for a Dollond&rsquo;s
+telescope, a Turkey carpet interwoven with gold, a marquee, and, finally, for
+some black steeds&mdash;the history, without entering into particulars, of all
+these being singularly connected with the mysterious character who seemed to
+pass unnoticed by every one, but whose appearance had destroyed the peace and
+happiness of my life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As I spoke I produced as much gold as I could hold in my two hands, and added
+jewels and precious stones of still greater value. &ldquo;Bendel,&rdquo; said
+I, &ldquo;this smooths many a path, and renders that easy which seems almost
+impossible. Be not sparing of it, for I am not so; but go, and rejoice thy
+master with intelligence on which depend all his hopes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He departed, and returned late and melancholy. None of Mr. John&rsquo;s
+servants, none of his guests (and Bendel had spoken to them all), had the
+slightest recollection of the man in the gray cloak. The new telescope was
+still there, but no one knew how it had come; and the tent and Turkey carpet
+were still stretched out on the hill. The servants boasted of their
+master&rsquo;s wealth; but no one seemed to know by what means he had become
+possessed of these newly acquired luxuries. He was gratified; and it gave him
+no concern to be ignorant how they had come to him. The black coursers which
+had been mounted on that day were in the stables of the young gentlemen of the
+party, who admired them as the munificent present of Mr. John.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Such was the information I gained from Bendel&rsquo;s detailed account; but, in
+spite of this unsatisfactory result, his zeal and prudence deserved and
+received my commendation. In a gloomy mood, I made him a sign to withdraw.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have, sir,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;laid before you all the
+information in my power relative to the subject of the most importance to you.
+I have now a message to deliver which I received early this morning from a
+person at the gate, as I was proceeding to execute the commission in which I
+have so unfortunately failed. The man&rsquo;s words were precisely these:
+&lsquo;Tell your master, Peter Schlemihl, he will not see me here again. I am
+going to cross the sea; a favorable wind now calls all the passengers on board;
+but in a year and a day I shall have the honor of paying him a visit; when, in
+all probability, I shall have a proposal to make to him of a very agreeable
+nature. Commend me to him most respectfully, with many thanks.&rsquo; I
+inquired his name; but he said you would remember him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What sort of a person was he?&rdquo; cried I, in great emotion; and
+Bendel described the man in the gray coat feature by feature, word for word; in
+short, the very individual in search of whom he had been sent. &ldquo;How
+unfortunate!&rdquo; cried I bitterly; &ldquo;it was himself.&rdquo; Scales, as
+it were, fell from Bendel&rsquo;s eyes. &ldquo;Yes, it was he,&rdquo; cried he,
+&ldquo;undoubtedly it was he; and fool, madman, that I was, I did not recognize
+him&mdash;I did not, and I have betrayed my master!&rdquo; He then broke out
+into a torrent of self-reproach; and his distress really excited my compassion.
+I endeavored to console him, repeatedly assuring him that I entertained no
+doubt of his fidelity; and despatched him immediately to the wharf, to
+discover, if possible, some trace of the extraordinary being. But on that very
+morning many vessels which had been detained in port by contrary winds had set
+sail, all bound to different parts of the globe; and the gray man had
+disappeared like a shadow.
+</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<p>
+Of what use were wings to a man fast bound in chains of iron? They would but
+increase the horror of his despair. Like the dragon guarding his treasure, I
+remained cut off from all human intercourse, and starving amidst my very gold,
+for it gave me no pleasure: I anathematized it as the source of all my
+wretchedness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sole depository of my fearful secret, I trembled before the meanest of my
+attendants, whom, at the same time, I envied; for he possessed a shadow, and
+could venture to go out in the day-time, while I shut myself up in my room day
+and night, and indulged in all the bitterness of grief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One individual, however, was daily pining away before my eyes&mdash;my faithful
+Bendel, who was the victim of silent self-reproach, tormenting himself with the
+idea that he had betrayed the confidence reposed in him by a good master, in
+failing to recognize the individual in quest of whom he had been sent, and with
+whom he had been led to believe that my melancholy fate was closely connected.
+Still, I had nothing to accuse him with, as I recognized in the occurrence the
+mysterious character of the unknown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In order to leave no means untried, I one day despatched Bendel with a costly
+ring to the most celebrated artist in the town, desiring him to wait upon me.
+He came; and, dismissing the attendants, I secured the door, placing myself
+opposite to him, and, after extolling his art, with a heavy heart came to the
+point, first enjoining the strictest secrecy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;For a person,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;who most unfortunately has lost his
+shadow, could you paint a false one?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Do you speak of the natural shadow?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Precisely so.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;by what awkward negligence can a man have
+lost his shadow?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;How it occurred,&rdquo; I answered, &ldquo;is of no consequence; but it
+was in this manner&rdquo;&mdash;(and here I uttered an unblushing
+falsehood)&mdash;&ldquo;he was travelling in Russia last winter, and one
+bitterly cold day it froze so intensely, that his shadow remained so fixed to
+the ground, that it was found impossible to remove it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The false shadow that I might paint,&rdquo; said the artist,
+&ldquo;would be liable to be lost on the slightest movement, particularly in a
+person who, from your account, cares so little about his shadow. A person
+without a shadow should keep out of the sun, that is the only safe and rational
+plan.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He arose and took his leave, casting so penetrating a look at me that I shrank
+from it. I sank back in my chair, and hid my face in my hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this attitude Bendel found me, and was about to withdraw silently and
+respectfully on seeing me in such a state of grief: looking up, overwhelmed
+with my sorrows, I felt that I must communicate them to him.
+&ldquo;Bendel,&rdquo; I exclaimed, &ldquo;Bendel, thou the only being who seest
+and respectest my grief too much to inquire into its cause&mdash;thou who
+seemest silently and sincerely to sympathize with me&mdash;come and share my
+confidence. The extent of my wealth I have not withheld from thee, neither will
+I conceal from thee the extent of my grief. Bendel! forsake me not. Bendel, you
+see me rich, free, beneficent; you fancy all the world in my power; yet you
+must have observed that I shun it, and avoid all human intercourse. You think,
+Bendel, that the world and I are at variance; and you yourself, perhaps, will
+abandon me, when I acquaint you with this fearful secret. Bendel, I am rich,
+free, generous; but, O God, I have NO SHADOW!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No shadow!&rdquo; exclaimed the faithful young man, tears starting from
+his eyes. &ldquo;Alas! that I am born to serve a master without a
+shadow!&rdquo; He was silent, and again I hid my face in my hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Bendel,&rdquo; at last I tremblingly resumed, &ldquo;you have now my
+confidence; you may betray me&mdash;go&mdash;bear witness against me!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He seemed to be agitated with conflicting feelings; at last he threw himself at
+my feet and seized my hand, which he bathed with his tears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he exclaimed; &ldquo;whatever the world may say, I neither
+can nor will forsake my excellent master because he has lost his shadow. I will
+rather do what is right than what may seem prudent. I will remain with
+you&mdash;I will shade you with my own shadow&mdash;I will assist you when I
+can&mdash;and when I cannot, I will weep with you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I fell upon his neck, astonished at sentiments so unusual; for it was very
+evident that he was not prompted by the love of money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My mode of life and my fate now became somewhat different. It is incredible
+with what provident foresight Bendel contrived to conceal my deficiency.
+Everywhere he was before me, and with me, providing against every contingency,
+and in cases of unlooked-for danger, flying to shield me with his own shadow,
+for he was taller and stouter than myself. Thus I once more ventured among
+mankind, and began to take a part in worldly affairs. I was compelled, indeed,
+to affect certain peculiarities and whims; but in a rich man they seem only
+appropriate; and so long as the truth was kept concealed I enjoyed all the
+honor and respect which gold could procure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now looked forward with more composure to the promised visit of the
+mysterious unknown at the expiration of the year and a day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was very sensible that I could not venture to remain long in a place where I
+had once been seen without a shadow, and where I might easily be betrayed; and
+perhaps, too, I recollected my first introduction to Mr. John, and this was by
+no means a pleasing reminiscence. However, I wished just to make a trial here,
+that I might with greater ease and security visit some other place. But my
+vanity for some time withheld me, for it is in this quality of our race that
+the anchor takes the firmest hold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even the lovely Fanny, whom I again met in several places, without her seeming
+to recollect that she had ever seen me before, bestowed some notice on me; for
+wit and understanding were mine in abundance now. When I spoke, I was listened
+to; and I was at a loss to know how I had so easily acquired the art of
+commanding attention, and giving the tone to the conversation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The impression which I perceived I had made upon this fair one completely
+turned my brain; and this was just what she wished. After that, I pursued her
+with infinite pains through every obstacle. My vanity was only intent on
+exciting hers to make a conquest of me; but although the intoxication disturbed
+my head, it failed to make the least impression on my heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But why detail to you the oft-repeated story which I have so often heard from
+yourself?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, in the old and well-known drama in which I played so worn-out a part,
+a catastrophe occurred of quite a peculiar nature, in a manner equally
+unexpected to her, to me, and to everybody.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One beautiful evening I had, according to my usual custom, assembled a party in
+a garden, and was walking arm-in-arm with Fanny at a little distance from the
+rest of the company, and pouring into her ear the usual well-turned phrases,
+while she was demurely gazing on vacancy, and now and then gently returning the
+pressure of my hand. The moon suddenly emerged from behind a cloud at our back.
+Fanny perceived only her own shadow before us. She started, looked at me with
+terror, and then again on the ground, in search of my shadow. All that was
+passing in her mind was so strangely depicted in her countenance, that I should
+have burst into a loud fit of laughter had I not suddenly felt my blood run
+cold within me. I suffered her to fall from my arm in a fainting-fit; shot with
+the rapidity of an arrow through the astonished guests, reached the gate, threw
+myself into the first conveyance I met with, and returned to the town, where
+this time, unfortunately, I had left the wary Bendel. He was alarmed on seeing
+me: one word explained all. Post-horses were immediately procured. I took with
+me none of my servants, one cunning knave only excepted, called Rascal, who had
+by his adroitness become very serviceable to me, and who at present knew
+nothing of what had occurred. I travelled thirty leagues that night; having
+left Bendel behind to discharge my servants, pay my debts, and bring me all
+that was necessary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he came up with me next day, I threw myself into his arms, vowing to avoid
+such follies and to be more careful for the future.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We pursued our journey uninterruptedly over the frontiers and mountains; and it
+was not until I had placed this lofty barrier between myself and the
+before-mentioned unlucky town that I was persuaded to recruit myself after my
+fatigues in a neighboring and little-frequented watering-place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I must now pass rapidly over one period of my history, on which how gladly
+would I dwell, could I conjure up your lively powers of delineation! But the
+vivid hues which are at your command, and which alone can give life and
+animation to the picture, have left no trace within me; and were I now to
+endeavor to recall the joys, the griefs, the pure and enchanting emotions,
+which once held such powerful dominion in my breast, it would be like striking
+a rock which yields no longer the living spring, and whose spirit has fled for
+ever. With what an altered aspect do those bygone days now present themselves
+to my gaze!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this watering-place I acted an heroic character, badly studied; and being a
+novice on such a stage, I forgot my part before a pair of lovely blue eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All possible means were used by the infatuated parents to conclude the bargain;
+and deception put an end to these usual artifices. And that is all&mdash;all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The powerful emotions which once swelled my bosom seem now in the retrospect to
+be poor and insipid, nay, even terrible to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Alas, Minna! as I wept for thee the day I lost thee, so do I now weep that I
+can no longer retrace thine image in my soul.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Am I, then, so far advanced into the vale of years? O fatal effects of
+maturity! would that I could feel one throb, one emotion of former days of
+enchantment&mdash;alas, not one! a solitary being, tossed on the wild ocean of
+life&mdash;it is long since I drained thine enchanted cup to the dregs!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But to return to my narrative. I had sent Bendel to the little town with plenty
+of money to procure me a suitable habitation. He spent my gold profusely; and
+as he expressed himself rather reservedly concerning his distinguished master
+(for I did not wish to be named), the good people began to form rather
+extraordinary conjectures.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as my house was ready for my reception, Bendel returned to conduct me
+to it. We set out on our journey. About a league from the town, on a sunny
+plain, we were stopped by a crowd of people, arrayed in holiday attire for some
+festival. The carriage stopped. Music, bells, cannons, were heard; and loud
+acclamations rang through the air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Before the carriage now appeared in white dresses a chorus of maidens, all of
+extraordinary beauty; but one of them shone in resplendent loveliness, and
+eclipsed the rest as the sun eclipses the stars of night. She advanced from the
+midst of her companions, and, with a lofty yet winning air, blushingly knelt
+before me, presenting on a silken cushion a wreath, composed of laurel
+branches, the olive, and the rose, saying something respecting majesty, love,
+honor, etc., which I could not comprehend; but the sweet and silvery magic of
+her tones intoxicated my senses and my whole soul: it seemed as if some
+heavenly apparition were hovering over me. The chorus now began to sing the
+praises of a good sovereign and the happiness of his subjects. All this, dear
+Chamisso, took place in the sun: she was kneeling two steps from me, and I,
+without a shadow, could not dart through the air, nor fall on my knees before
+the angelic being. Oh, what would I not now have given for a shadow! To conceal
+my shame, agony, and despair, I buried myself in the recesses of the carriage.
+Bendel at last thought of an expedient; he jumped out of the carriage. I called
+him back, and gave him out of the casket I had by me a rich diamond coronet,
+which had been intended for the lovely Fanny.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He stepped forward, and spoke in the name of his master, who, he said, was
+overwhelmed by so many demonstrations of respect, which he really could not
+accept as an honor&mdash;there must be some error; nevertheless he begged to
+express his thanks for the goodwill of the worthy townspeople. In the meantime
+Bendel had taken the wreath from the cushion, and laid the brilliant crown in
+its place. He then respectfully raised the lovely girl from the ground; and, at
+one sign, the clergy, magistrates, and all the deputations withdrew. The crowd
+separated to allow the horses to pass, and we pursued our way to the town at
+full gallop, through arches ornamented with flowers and branches of laurel.
+Salvos of artillery again were heard. The carriage stopped at my gate; I
+hastened through the crowd which curiosity had attracted to witness my arrival.
+Enthusiastic shouts resounded under my windows, from whence I showered gold
+amidst the people; and in the evening the whole town was illuminated. Still all
+remained a mystery to me, and I could not imagine for whom I had been taken. I
+sent Rascal out to make inquiry; and he soon obtained intelligence that the
+good King of Prussia was travelling through the country under the name of some
+count; that my aide-de-camp had been recognized, and that he had divulged the
+secret; that on acquiring the certainty that I would enter their town, their
+joy had known no bounds: however, as they perceived I was determined on
+preserving the strictest incognito, they felt how wrong they had been in too
+importunately seeking to withdraw the veil; but I had received them so
+condescendingly and so graciously, that they were sure I would forgive them.
+The whole affair was such capital amusement to the unprincipled Rascal, that he
+did his best to confirm the good people in their belief, while affecting to
+reprove them. He gave me a very comical account of the matter; and, seeing that
+I was amused by it, actually endeavored to make a merit of his impudence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Shall I own the truth? My vanity was flattered by having been mistaken for our
+revered sovereign. I ordered a banquet to be got ready for the following
+evening, under the trees before my house, and invited the whole town. The
+mysterious power of my purse, Bendel&rsquo;s exertions, and Rascal&rsquo;s
+ready invention made the shortness of the time seem as nothing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was really astonishing how magnificently and beautifully everything was
+arranged in these few hours. Splendor and abundance vied with each other, and
+the lights were so carefully arranged that I felt quite safe: the zeal of my
+servants met every exigency and merited all praise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Evening drew on, the guests arrived, and were presented to me. The word MAJESTY
+was now dropped; but, with the deepest respect and humility, I was addressed as
+the COUNT. What could I do? I accepted the title, and from that moment I was
+known as Count Peter. In the midst of all this festivity my soul pined for one
+individual. She came late&mdash;she who was the empress of the scene, and wore
+the emblem of sovereignty on her brow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She modestly accompanied her parents, and seemed unconscious of her
+transcendent beauty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Ranger of the Forests, his wife, and daughter were presented to me. I was
+at no loss to make myself agreeable to the parents; but before the daughter I
+stood like a well-scolded schoolboy, incapable of speaking a single word.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length I hesitatingly entreated her to honor my banquet by presiding at
+it&mdash;an office for which her rare endowments pointed her out as admirably
+fitted. With a blush and an expressive glance she entreated to be excused; but,
+in still greater confusion than herself, I respectfully begged her to accept
+the homage of the first and most devoted of her subjects, and one glance of the
+count was the same as a command to the guests, who all vied with each other in
+acting up to the spirit of the noble host.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In her person, majesty, innocence, and grace, in union with beauty, presided
+over this joyous banquet. Minna&rsquo;s happy parents were elated by the honors
+conferred upon their child. As for me, I abandoned myself to all the
+intoxication of delight: I sent for all the jewels, pearls, and precious stones
+still left to me&mdash;the produce of my fatal wealth&mdash;and, filling two
+vases, I placed them on the table, in the name of the queen of the banquet, to
+be divided among her companions and the remainder of the ladies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I ordered gold, in the meantime, to be showered down without ceasing among the
+happy multitude.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning Bendel told me in confidence that the suspicions he had long
+entertained of Rascal&rsquo;s honesty were now reduced to a certainty; he had
+yesterday embezzled many bags of gold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;let him enjoy his paltry booty.
+<i>I</i> like to spend it; why should not he? Yesterday he, and all the
+newly-engaged servants whom you had hired, served me honorably, and cheerfully
+assisted me to enjoy the banquet.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No more was said on the subject. Rascal remained at the head of my domestics.
+Bendel was my friend and confidant; he had by this time become accustomed to
+look upon my wealth as inexhaustible, without seeking to inquire into its
+source. He entered into all my schemes, and effectually assisted me in devising
+methods of spending my money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of the pale, sneaking scoundrel&mdash;the unknown&mdash;Bendel only knew thus
+much, that he alone had power to release me from the curse which weighed so
+heavily on me, and yet that I stood in awe of him on whom all my hopes rested.
+Besides, I felt convinced that he had the means of discovering ME under any
+circumstances, while he himself remained concealed. I therefore abandoned my
+fruitless inquiries, and patiently awaited the appointed day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The magnificence of my banquet, and my deportment on the occasion, had but
+strengthened the credulous townspeople in their previous belief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It appeared soon after, from accounts in the newspapers, that the whole history
+of the King of Prussia&rsquo;s fictitious journey originated in mere idle
+report. But a king I was, and a king I must remain by all means; and one of the
+richest and most royal, although people were at a loss to know where my
+territories lay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The world has never had reason to lament the scarcity of monarchs, particularly
+in these days; and the good people, who had never yet seen a king, now fancied
+me to be first one, and then another, with equal success; and in the meanwhile
+I remained as before, Count Peter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Among the visitors at this watering-place a merchant made his appearance, one
+who had become a bankrupt in order to enrich himself. He enjoyed the general
+good opinion; for he projected a shadow of respectable size, though of somewhat
+faint hue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This man wished to show off in this place by means of his wealth, and sought to
+rival me. My purse soon enabled me to leave the poor devil far behind. To save
+his credit he became bankrupt again, and fled beyond the mountains; and thus I
+was rid of him. Many a one in this place was reduced to beggary and ruin
+through my means.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the midst of the really princely magnificence and profusion, which carried
+all before me, my own style of living was very simple and retired. I had made
+it a point to observe the strictest precaution; and, with the exception of
+Bendel, no one was permitted, on any pretence whatever, to enter my private
+apartment. As long as the sun shone I remained shut up with him; and the Count
+was then said to be deeply occupied in his closet. The numerous couriers, whom
+I kept in constant attendance about matters of no importance, were supposed to
+be the bearers of my despatches. I only received company in the evening under
+the trees of my garden, or in my saloons, after Bendel&rsquo;s assurance of
+their being carefully and brilliantly lit up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My walks, in which the Argus-eyed Bendel was constantly on the watch for me,
+extended only to the garden of the forest-ranger, to enjoy the society of one
+who was dear to me as my own existence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Oh, my Chamisso! I trust thou hast not forgotten what love is! I must here
+leave much to thine imagination. Minna was in truth an amiable and excellent
+maiden: her whole soul was wrapped up in me, and in her lowly thoughts of
+herself she could not imagine how she had deserved a single thought from me.
+She returned love for love with all the full and youthful fervor of an innocent
+heart; her love was a true woman&rsquo;s love, with all the devotion and total
+absence of selfishness which is found only in woman; she lived but in me, her
+whole soul being bound up in mine, regardless what her own fate might be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet I, alas, during those hours of wretchedness&mdash;hours I would even now
+gladly recall&mdash;how often have I wept on Bendel&rsquo;s bosom, when after
+the first mad whirlwind of passion I reflected, with the keenest
+self-upbraidings, that I, a shadowless man, had, with cruel selfishness,
+practised a wicked deception, and stolen away the pure and angelic heart of the
+innocent Minna!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At one moment I resolved to confess all to her; then that I would fly for ever;
+then I broke out into a flood of bitter tears, and consulted Bendel as to the
+means of meeting her again in the forester&rsquo;s garden.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At times I flattered myself with great hopes from the near approaching visit of
+the unknown; then wept again, because I saw clearly on reflection that they
+would end in disappointment. I had made a calculation of the day fixed on by
+the fearful being for our interview; for he had said in a year and a day, and I
+depended on his word.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The parents were worthy old people, devoted to their only child; and our mutual
+affection was a circumstance so overwhelming that they knew not how to act.
+They had never dreamed for a moment that the COUNT could bestow a thought on
+their daughter; but such was the case&mdash;he loved and was beloved. The pride
+of the mother might not have led her to consider such an alliance quite
+impossible, but so extravagant an idea had never entered the contemplation of
+the sounder judgment of the old man. Both were satisfied of the sincerity of my
+love, and could but put up prayers to Heaven for the happiness of their child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A letter which I received from Minna about that time has just fallen into my
+hands. Yes, these are the characters traced by her own hand. I will transcribe
+the letter:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am indeed a weak, foolish girl to fancy that the friend I so tenderly
+love could give an instant&rsquo;s pain to his poor Minna! Oh no! thou art so
+good, so inexpressibly good! But do not misunderstand me. I will accept no
+sacrifice at thy hands&mdash;none whatever. Oh heavens! I should hate myself!
+No; thou hast made me happy, thou hast taught me to love thee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go, then&mdash;let me not forget my destiny&mdash;Count Peter belongs
+not to me, but to the whole world; and oh! what pride for thy Minna to hear thy
+deeds proclaimed, and blessings invoked on thy idolized head! Ah! when I think
+of this, I could chide thee that thou shouldst for one instant forget thy high
+destiny for the sake of a simple maiden! Go, then; otherwise the reflection
+will pierce me. How blest I have been rendered by thy love! Perhaps, also, I
+have planted some flowers in the path of thy life, as I twined them in the
+wreath which I presented to thee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Go, then&mdash;fear not to leave me&mdash;you are too deeply seated in
+my heart&mdash;I shall die inexpressibly happy in thy love.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Conceive how these words pierced my soul, Chamisso!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I declared to her that I was not what I seemed&mdash;that, although a rich, I
+was an unspeakably miserable man&mdash;that a curse was on me, which must
+remain a secret, although the only one between us&mdash;yet that I was not
+without a hope of its being removed&mdash;that this poisoned every hour of my
+life&mdash;that I should plunge her with me into the abyss&mdash;she, the light
+and joy, the very soul of my existence. Then she wept because I was unhappy.
+Oh! Minna was all love and tenderness. To save me one tear she would gladly
+have sacrificed her life. Yet she was far from comprehending the full meaning
+of my words. She still looked upon me as some proscribed prince or illustrious
+exile; and her vivid imagination had invested her lover with every lofty
+attribute.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day I said to her, &ldquo;Minna, the last day in next month will decide my
+fate, and perhaps change it for the better; if not, I would sooner die than
+render you miserable.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She laid her head on my shoulder to conceal her tears. &ldquo;Should thy fate
+be changed,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I only wish to know that thou art happy; if
+thy condition is an unhappy one, I will share it with thee, and assist thee to
+support it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Minna, Minna!&rdquo; I exclaimed, &ldquo;recall those rash
+words&mdash;those mad words which have escaped thy lips! Didst thou know the
+misery and curse&mdash;didst thou know who&mdash;what&mdash;thy lover … Seest
+thou not, my Minna, this convulsive shuddering which thrills my whole frame,
+and that there is a secret in my breast which you cannot penetrate?&rdquo; She
+sank sobbing at my feet, and renewed her vows and entreaties.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her father now entered, and I declared to him my intention to solicit the hand
+of his daughter on the first day of the month after the ensuing one. I fixed
+that time, I told him, because circumstances might probably occur in the
+interval materially to influence my future destiny; but my love for his
+daughter was unchangeable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The good old man started at hearing such words from the mouth of Count Peter.
+He fell upon my neck, and rose again in the utmost confusion for having
+forgotten himself. Then he began to doubt, to ponder, and to scrutinize; and
+spoke of dowry, security, and future provision for his beloved child. I thanked
+him for having reminded me of all this, and told him it was my wish to remain
+in a country where I seemed to be beloved, and to lead a life free from
+anxiety. I then commissioned him to purchase the finest estate in the
+neighborhood in the name of his daughter&mdash;for a father was the best person
+to act for his daughter in such a case&mdash;and to refer for payment to me.
+This occasioned him a good deal of trouble, as a stranger had everywhere
+anticipated him; but at last he made a purchase for about L150,000.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I confess this was but an innocent artifice to get rid of him, as I had
+frequently done before; for it must be confessed that he was somewhat tedious.
+The good mother was rather deaf, and not jealous, like her husband, of the
+honor of conversing with the Count.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The happy party pressed me to remain with them longer this evening. I dared
+not&mdash;I had not a moment to lose. I saw the rising moon streaking the
+horizon&mdash;my hour was come.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next evening I went again to the forester&rsquo;s garden. I had wrapped myself
+closely up in my cloak, slouched my hat over my eyes, and advanced towards
+Minna. As she raised her head and looked at me, she started involuntarily. The
+apparition of that dreadful night in which I had been seen without a shadow was
+now standing distinctly before me&mdash;it was she herself. Had she recognized
+me? She was silent and thoughtful. I felt an oppressive load at my heart. I
+rose from my seat. She laid her head on my shoulder, still silent and in tears.
+I went away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now found her frequently weeping. I became more and more melancholy. Her
+parents were beyond expression happy. The eventful day approached, threatening
+and heavy, like a thunder-cloud. The evening preceding arrived. I could
+scarcely breathe. I had carefully filled a large chest with gold, and sat down
+to await the appointed time&mdash;the twelfth hour&mdash;it struck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now I remained with my eyes fixed on the hand of the clock, counting the
+seconds&mdash;the minutes&mdash;which struck me to the heart like daggers. I
+started at every sound&mdash;at last daylight appeared. The leaden hours passed
+on&mdash;morning&mdash;evening&mdash;night came. Hope was fast fading away as
+the hand advanced. It struck eleven&mdash;no one appeared&mdash;the last
+minutes&mdash;the first and last stroke of the twelfth hour died away. I sank
+back in my bed in an agony of weeping. In the morning I should, shadowless as I
+was, claim the hand of my beloved Minna. A heavy sleep towards daylight closed
+my eyes.
+</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<p>
+It was yet early, when I was suddenly awoke by voices in hot dispute in my
+ante-chamber. I listened. Bendel was forbidding Rascal to enter my room, who
+swore he would receive no orders from his equals, and insisted on forcing his
+way. The faithful Bendel reminded him that if such words reached his
+master&rsquo;s ears, he would turn him out of an excellent place. Rascal
+threatened to strike him if he persisted in refusing his entrance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time, having half-dressed myself, I angrily threw open the door, and
+addressing myself to Rascal, inquired what he meant by such disgraceful
+conduct. He drew back a couple of steps, and coolly answered: &ldquo;Count
+Peter, may I beg most respectfully that you will favor me with a sight of your
+shadow? The sun is now shining brightly in the court below.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stood as if struck by a thunderbolt, and for some time was unable to speak.
+At last I asked him how a servant could dare to behave so towards his master.
+He interrupted me by saying, quite coolly, &ldquo;A servant may be a very
+honorable man, and unwilling to serve a shadowless master&mdash;I request my
+dismissal.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I felt that I must adopt a softer tone, and replied, &ldquo;But, Rascal, my
+good fellow, who can have put such strange ideas into your head? How can you
+imagine&mdash;&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He again interrupted me in the same tone&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;People say you have no shadow. In short, let me see your shadow, or give
+me my dismissal.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bendel, pale and trembling, but more collected than myself, made a sign to me.
+I had recourse to the all-powerful influence of gold. But even gold had lost
+its power&mdash;Rascal threw it at my feet: &ldquo;From a shadowless
+man,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I will take nothing.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Turning his back upon me, and putting on his hat, he then slowly left the room,
+whistling a tune. I stood, with Bendel, as if petrified, gazing after him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a deep sigh and a heavy heart I now prepared to keep my engagement, and to
+appear in the forester&rsquo;s garden like a criminal before his judge. I
+entered by the shady arbor, which had received the name of Count Peter&rsquo;s
+arbor, where we had appointed to meet. The mother advanced with a cheerful air;
+Minna sat fair and beautiful as the early snow of autumn reposing on the
+departing flowers, soon to be dissolved and lost in the cold stream.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ranger, with a written paper in his hand, was walking up and down in an
+agitated manner, struggling to suppress his feelings&mdash;his usually unmoved
+countenance being one moment flushed and the next perfectly pale. He came
+forward as I entered, and, in a faltering voice, requested a private
+conversation with me. The path by which he requested me to follow him led to an
+open spot in the garden, where the sun was shining. I sat down. A long silence
+ensued, which even the good woman herself did not venture to break. The ranger,
+in an agitated manner, paced up and down with unequal steps. At last he stood
+still; and glancing over the paper he held in his hand, he said, addressing me
+with a penetrating look, &ldquo;Count Peter, do you know one Peter
+Schlemihl?&rdquo; I was silent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A man,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;of excellent character and
+extraordinary endowments.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He paused for an answer. &ldquo;And supposing I myself were that very
+man?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You!&rdquo; he exclaimed passionately; &ldquo;he has lost his
+shadow!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh, my suspicion is true!&rdquo; cried Minna; &ldquo;I have long known
+it&mdash;he has no shadow!&rdquo; And she threw herself into her mother&rsquo;s
+arms, who, convulsively clasping her to her bosom, reproached her for having so
+long, to her hurt, kept such a secret. But, like the fabled Arethusa, her
+tears, as from a fountain, flowed more abundantly, and her sobs increased at my
+approach.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And so,&rdquo; said the ranger fiercely, &ldquo;you have not scrupled,
+with unparalleled shamelessness, to deceive both her and me; and you pretended
+to love her, forsooth!&mdash;her whom you have reduced to the state in which
+you now see her. See how she weeps!&mdash;Oh, shocking, shocking!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time I had lost all presence of mind; and I answered, confusedly:
+&ldquo;After all, it is but a shadow, a mere shadow, which a man can do very
+well without; and really it is not worth the while to make all this noise about
+such a trifle.&rdquo; Feeling the groundlessness of what I was saying, I
+ceased, and no one condescended to reply. At last I added: &ldquo;What is lost
+to-day may be found to-morrow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Be pleased, sir,&rdquo; continued the ranger, in great
+wrath&mdash;&ldquo;be pleased to explain how you have lost your shadow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here again an excuse was ready: &ldquo;A boor of a fellow,&rdquo; said I,
+&ldquo;one day trod so rudely on my shadow that he tore a large hole in it. I
+sent it to be repaired&mdash;for gold can do wonders&mdash;and yesterday I
+expected it home again.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; answered the ranger. &ldquo;You are a suitor my
+daughter&rsquo;s hand, and so are others. As a father, I am bound to provide
+for her. I will give you three days to seek your shadow. Return to me in the
+course of that time with a well-fitted shadow, and you shall receive a hearty
+welcome; otherwise, on the fourth day&mdash;remember, on the fourth
+day&mdash;my daughter becomes the wife of another.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now attempted to say one word to Minna; but, sobbing more violently, she
+clung still closer to her mother, who made a sign for me to withdraw. I obeyed;
+and now the world seemed shut out from me for ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having escaped from the affectionate care of Bendel, I now wandered wildly
+through the neighboring woods and meadows. Drops of anguish fell from my brow,
+deep groans burst from my bosom&mdash;frenzied despair raged within me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I knew not how long this had lasted, when I felt myself seized by the sleeve on
+a sunny heath. I stopped, and looking up, beheld the gray-coated man, who
+appeared to have run himself out of breath in pursuing me. He immediately
+began: &ldquo;I had,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;appointed this day; but your
+impatience anticipated it. All, however, may yet be right. Take my
+advice&mdash;redeem your shadow, which is at your command, and return
+immediately to the ranger&rsquo;s garden, where you will be well received, and
+all the past will seem a mere joke. As for Rascal&mdash;who has betrayed you in
+order to pay his addresses to Minna&mdash;leave him to me; he is just a fit
+subject for me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stood like one in a dream. &ldquo;This day?&rdquo; I considered again. He was
+right&mdash;I had made a mistake of a day. I felt in my bosom for the purse. He
+perceived my intention, and drew back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Count Peter; the purse is in good hands&mdash;pray keep it.&rdquo; I
+gazed at him with looks of astonishment and inquiry. &ldquo;I only beg a trifle
+as a token of remembrance. Be so good as to sign this memorandum.&rdquo; On the
+parchment, which he held out to me, were these words: &ldquo;By virtue of this
+present, to which I have appended my signature, I hereby bequeath my soul to
+the holder, after its natural separation from my body.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I gazed in mute astonishment alternately at the paper and the gray unknown. In
+the meantime he had dipped a new pen in a drop of blood which was issuing from
+a scratch in my hand just made by a thorn. He presented it to me. &ldquo;Who
+are you?&rdquo; at last I exclaimed. &ldquo;What can it signify?&rdquo; he
+answered: &ldquo;do you not perceive who I am? A poor devil&mdash;a sort of
+scholar and philosopher, who obtains but poor thanks from his friends for his
+admirable arts, and whose only amusement on earth consists in his small
+experiments. But just sign this; to the right, exactly underneath&mdash;Peter
+Schlemihl.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I shook my head, and replied: &ldquo;Excuse me, sir; I cannot sign that.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Cannot!&rdquo; he exclaimed; &ldquo;and why not?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because it appears to me a hazardous thing to exchange my soul for my
+shadow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hazardous!&rdquo; he exclaimed, bursting into a loud laugh. &ldquo;And,
+pray, may I be allowed to inquire what sort of a thing your soul is?&mdash;have
+you ever seen it?&mdash;and what do you mean to do with it after your death?
+You ought to think yourself fortunate in meeting with a customer who, during
+your life, in exchange for this infinitely minute quantity, this galvanic
+principle, this polarized agency, or whatever other foolish name you may give
+it, is willing to bestow on you something substantial&mdash;in a word, your own
+identical shadow, by virtue of which you will obtain your beloved Minna, and
+arrive at the accomplishment of all your wishes; or do you prefer giving up the
+poor young girl to the power of that contemptible scoundrel Rascal? Nay, you
+shall behold her with your own eyes. Come here; I will lend you an invisible
+cap (he drew something out of his pocket), and we will enter the ranger&rsquo;s
+garden unseen.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I must confess that I felt excessively ashamed to be thus laughed at by the
+gray stranger. I detested him from the very bottom of my soul; and I really
+believe this personal antipathy, more than principle or previously formed
+opinion, restrained me from purchasing my shadow, much as I stood in need of
+it, at such an expense. Besides, the thought was insupportable of making this
+proposed visit in his society. To behold this hateful sneak, this mocking
+fiend, place himself between me and my beloved, between our torn and bleeding
+hearts, was too revolting an idea to be entertained for a moment. I considered
+the past as irrevocable, my own misery as inevitable; and turning to the gray
+man, I said: &ldquo;I have exchanged my shadow for this very extraordinary
+purse, and I have sufficiently repented it. For Heaven&rsquo;s sake, let the
+transaction be declared null and void!&rdquo; He shook his head, and his
+countenance assumed an expression of the most sinister cast. I continued:
+&ldquo;I will make no exchange whatever, even for the sake of my shadow, nor
+will I sign the paper. It follows, also, that the incognito visit you propose
+to me would afford you far more entertainment than it could possibly give me.
+Accept my excuses, therefore; and, since it must be so, let us part.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sorry, Mr. Schlemihl, that you thus obstinately persist in
+rejecting my friendly offer. Perhaps, another time, I may be more fortunate.
+Farewell! May we shortly meet again! But, <i>à propos</i>, allow me to show you
+that I do not undervalue my purchase, but preserve it carefully.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So saying, he drew my shadow out of his pocket; and shaking it cleverly out of
+its folds, he stretched it out at his feet in the sun&mdash;so that he stood
+between two obedient shadows, his own and mine, which was compelled to follow
+and comply with his every movement. On again beholding my poor shadow after so
+long a separation, and seeing it degraded to so vile a bondage at the very time
+that I was so unspeakably in want of it, my heart was ready to burst, and I
+wept bitterly. The detested wretch stood exulting over his prey, and
+unblushingly renewed his proposal. &ldquo;One stroke of your pen, and the
+unhappy Minna is rescued from the clutches of the villain Rascal, and
+transferred to the arms of the high-born Count Peter&mdash;merely a stroke of
+your pen!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My tears broke out with renewed violence; but I turned away from him, and made
+a sign for him to be gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bendel, whose deep solicitude had induced him to come in search of me, arrived
+at this very moment. The good and faithful creature, on seeing me weeping, and
+that a shadow (evidently mine) was in the power of the mysterious unknown,
+determined to rescue it by force, should that be necessary; and disdaining to
+use any finesse, he desired him directly, and without any disputing, to restore
+my property. Instead of a reply, the gray man turned his back on the worthy
+fellow, and was making off. But Bendel raised his buck-thorn stick; and
+following close upon him, after repeated commands, but in vain, to restore the
+shadow, he made him feel the whole force of his powerful arm. The gray man, as
+if accustomed to such treatment, held down his head, slouched his shoulders,
+and, with soft and noiseless steps, pursued his way over the heath, carrying
+with him my shadow, and also my faithful servant. For a long time I heard
+hollow sounds ringing through the waste, until at last they died away in the
+distance, and I was again left to solitude and misery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Alone on the wild heath, I disburdened my heart of an insupportable load by
+given free vent to my tears. But I saw no bounds, no relief, to my surpassing
+wretchedness; and I drank in the fresh poison which the mysterious stranger had
+poured into my wounds with a furious avidity. As I retraced in my mind the
+loved image of my Minna, and depicted her sweet countenance all pale and in
+tears, such as I had beheld her in my late disgrace, the bold and sarcastic
+visage of Rascal would ever and anon thrust itself between us. I hid my face,
+and fled rapidly over the plains; but the horrible vision unrelentingly pursued
+me, till at last I sank breathless on the ground, and bedewed it with a fresh
+torrent of tears&mdash;and all this for a shadow!&mdash;a shadow which one
+stroke of the pen would repurchase. I pondered on the singular proposal, and on
+my hesitation to comply with it. My mind was confused&mdash;I had lost the
+power of judging or comprehending. The day was waning apace. I satisfied the
+cravings of hunger with a few wild fruits, and quenched my thirst at a
+neighboring stream. Night came on; I threw myself down under a tree, and was
+awoke by the damp morning air from an uneasy sleep, in which I had fancied
+myself struggling in the agonies of death. Bendel had certainly lost all trace
+of me, and I was glad of it. I did not wish to return among my
+fellow-creatures&mdash;I shunned them as the hunted deer flies before its
+pursuers. Thus I passed three melancholy days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found myself on the morning of the fourth on a sandy plain, basking in the
+rays of the sun, and sitting on a fragment of rock; for it was sweet to enjoy
+the genial warmth of which I had so long been deprived. Despair still preyed on
+my heart. Suddenly a slight sound startled me; I looked round, prepared to fly,
+but saw no one. On the sunlit sand before me flitted the shadow of a man not
+unlike my own; and wandering about alone, it seemed to have lost its master.
+This sight powerfully excited me. &ldquo;Shadow!&rdquo; thought I, &ldquo;art
+thou in search of thy master? in me thou shall find him.&rdquo; And I sprang
+forward to seize it, fancying that could I succeed in treading so exactly in
+its traces as to step in its footmarks, it would attach itself to me, and in
+time become accustomed to me, and follow all my movements.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shadow, as I moved, took to flight, and I commenced a hot chase after the
+airy fugitive, solely excited by the hope of being delivered from my present
+dreadful situation; the bare idea inspired me with fresh strength and vigor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shadow now fled towards a distant wood, among whose shades I must
+necessarily have lost it. Seeing this, my heart beat wild with fright, my ardor
+increased and lent wings to my speed. I was evidently gaining on the
+shadow&mdash;I came nearer and nearer&mdash;I was within reach of it, when it
+suddenly stopped and turned towards me. Like a lion darting on its prey, I made
+a powerful spring and fell unexpectedly upon a hard substance. Then followed,
+from an invisible hand, the most terrible blows in the ribs that anyone ever
+received. The effect of my terror made me endeavor convulsively to strike and
+grasp at the unseen object before me. The rapidity of my motions brought me to
+the ground, where I lay stretched out with a man under me, whom I held tight,
+and who now became visible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The whole affair was now explained. The man had undoubtedly possessed the
+bird&rsquo;s nest which communicates its charm of invisibility to its
+possessor, though not equally so to his shadow; and this nest he had now thrown
+away. I looked all round, and soon discovered the shadow of this invisible
+nest. I sprang towards it, and was fortunate enough to seize the precious
+booty, and immediately became invisible and shadowless.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The moment the man regained his feet he looked all round over the wide sunny
+plain to discover his fortunate vanquisher, but could see neither him nor his
+shadow, the latter seeming particularly to be the object of his search: for
+previous to our encounter he had not had leisure to observe that I was
+shadowless, and he could not be aware of it. Becoming convinced that all traces
+of me were lost, he began to tear his hair, and give himself up to all the
+frenzy of despair. In the meantime, this newly acquired treasure communicated
+to me both the ability and the desire to mix again among mankind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was at no loss for a pretext to vindicate this unjust robbery&mdash;or,
+rather, so deadened had I become, I felt no need of a pretext; and in order to
+dissipate every idea of the kind, I hastened on, regardless of the unhappy man,
+whose fearful lamentations long resounded in my ears. Such, at the time, were
+my impressions of all the circumstances of this affair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now ardently desired to return to the ranger&rsquo;s garden, in order to
+ascertain in person the truth of the information communicated by the odious
+unknown; but I knew not where I was, until, ascending an eminence to take a
+survey of the surrounding country, I perceived, from its summit, the little
+town and the gardens almost at my feet. My heart beat violently, and tears of a
+nature very different from those I had lately shed filled my eyes. I should,
+then, once more behold her!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Anxiety now hastened my steps. Unseen, I met some peasants coming from the
+town; they were talking of me, of Rascal, and of the ranger. I would not stay
+to listen to their conversation, but proceeded on. My bosom thrilled with
+expectation as I entered the garden. At this moment I heard something like a
+hollow laugh which caused me involuntarily to shudder. I cast a rapid glance
+around, but could see no one. I passed on; presently I fancied I heard the
+sound of footsteps close to me, but no one was within sight. My ears must have
+deceived me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was early; no one was in Count Peter&rsquo;s bower&mdash;the gardens were
+deserted. I traversed all the well-known paths, and penetrated even to the
+dwelling-house itself. The same rustling sound became now more and more
+audible. With anguished feelings I sat down on a seat placed in the sunny space
+before the door, and actually felt some invisible fiend take a place by me, and
+heard him utter a sarcastic laugh. The key was turned in the door, which was
+opened. The forest-master appeared with a paper in his hand. Suddenly my head
+was, as it were, enveloped in a mist. I looked up, and, oh horror! the
+gray-coated man was at my side, peering in my face with a satanic grin. He had
+extended the mist-cap he wore over my head. His shadow and my own were lying
+together at his feet in perfect amity. He kept twirling in his hand the
+well-known parchment with an air of indifference; and while the ranger,
+absorbed in thought, and intent upon his paper, paced up and down the arbor, my
+tormentor confidentially leaned towards me, and whispered: &ldquo;So, Mr.
+Schlemihl, you have at length accepted my invitation; and here we sit, two
+heads under one hood, as the saying is. Well, well, all in good time. But now
+you can return me my bird&rsquo;s nest&mdash;you have no further occasion for
+it; and I am sure you are too honorable a man to withhold it from me. No need
+of thanks, I assure you; I had infinite pleasure in lending it to you.&rdquo;
+He took it out of my unresisting hand, put it into his pocket, and then broke
+into so loud a laugh at my expense, that the forest-master turned round,
+startled at the sound. I was petrified. &ldquo;You must acknowledge,&rdquo; he
+continued, &ldquo;that in our position a hood is much more convenient. It
+serves to conceal not only a man, but his shadow, or as many shadows as he
+chooses to carry. I, for instance, to-day bring two, you perceive.&rdquo; He
+laughed again. &ldquo;Take notice, Schlemihl, that what a man refuses to do
+with a good grace in the first instance, he is always in the end compelled to
+do. I am still of opinion that you ought to redeem your shadow and claim your
+bride (for it is yet time); and as to Rascal, he shall dangle at a rope&rsquo;s
+end&mdash;no difficult matter, so long as we can find a bit. As a mark of
+friendship I will give you my cap into the bargain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The mother now came out, and the following conversation took place: &ldquo;What
+is Minna doing?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;She is weeping.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Silly
+child! what good can that do?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;None, certainly; but it is so
+soon to bestow her hand on another. O husband, you are too harsh to your poor
+child.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;No, wife; you view things in a wrong light. When she
+finds herself the wife of a wealthy and honorable man, her tears will soon
+cease; she will waken out of a dream, as it were, happy and grateful to Heaven
+and to her parents, as you will see.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Heaven grant it may be
+so!&rdquo; replied the wife. &ldquo;She has, indeed, now considerable property;
+but after the noise occasioned by her unlucky affair with that adventurer, do
+you imagine that she is likely soon to meet with so advantageous a match as Mr.
+Rascal? Do you know the extent of Mr. Rascal&rsquo;s influence and wealth? Why,
+he has purchased with ready money, in this country, six millions of landed
+property, free from all encumbrances. I have had all the documents in my hands.
+It was he who outbid me everywhere when I was about to make a desirable
+purchase; and, besides, he has bills on Mr. Thomas John&rsquo;s house to the
+amount of three millions and a half.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;He must have been a
+prodigious thief!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;How foolishly you talk! he wisely saved
+where others squandered their property.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;A mere
+livery-servant!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Nonsense! he has at all events an
+unexceptionable shadow.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;True, but…&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While this conversation was passing, the gray-coated man looked at me with a
+satirical smile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The door opened, and Minna entered, leaning on the arm of her female attendant,
+silent tears flowing down her fair but pallid face. She seated herself in the
+chair which had been placed for her under the lime trees, and her father took a
+stool by her side. He gently raised her hand; and as her tears flowed afresh,
+he addressed her in the most affectionate manner:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My own dear, good child&mdash;my Minna&mdash;will act reasonably, and
+not afflict her poor old father, who only wishes to make her happy. My dearest
+child, this blow has shaken you&mdash;dreadfully, I know it; but you have been
+saved, as by a miracle, from a miserable fate, my Minna. You loved the unworthy
+villain most tenderly before his treachery was discovered: I feel all this,
+Minna; and far be it from me to reproach you for it&mdash;in fact, I myself
+loved him so long as I considered him to be a person of rank: you now see
+yourself how differently it has turned out. Every dog has a shadow; and the
+idea of my child having been on the eve of uniting herself to a man who… but I
+am sure you will think no more of him. A suitor has just appeared for you in
+the person of a man who does not fear the sun&mdash;an honorable man&mdash;no
+prince indeed, but a man worth ten millions of golden ducats sterling&mdash;a
+sum nearly ten times larger than your fortune consists of&mdash;a man, too, who
+will make my dear child happy&mdash;nay, do not oppose me&mdash;be my own good,
+dutiful child&mdash;allow your loving father to provide for you, and to dry up
+these tears. Promise to bestow your hand on Mr. Rascal. Speak my child: will
+you not?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Minna could scarcely summon strength to reply that she had now no longer any
+hopes or desires on earth, and that she was entirely at her father&rsquo;s
+disposal. Rascal was therefore immediately sent for, and entered the room with
+his usual forwardness; but Minna in the meantime had swooned away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My detested companion looked at me indignantly, and whispered: &ldquo;Can you
+endure this? Have you no blood in your veins?&rdquo; He instantly pricked my
+finger, which bled. &ldquo;Yes, positively,&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;you
+have some blood left!&mdash;come, sign.&rdquo; The parchment and pen were in my
+hand!…
+</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+<p>
+I submit myself to thy judgment, my dear Chamisso; I do not seek to bias it. I
+have long been a rigid censor of myself, and nourished at my heart the worm of
+remorse. This critical moment of my life is ever present to my soul, and I dare
+only cast a hesitating glance at it, with a deep sense of humiliation and
+grief. Ah, my dear friend, he who once permits himself thoughtlessly to deviate
+but one step from the right road will imperceptibly find himself involved in
+various intricate paths, all leading him farther and farther astray. In vain he
+beholds the guiding-stars of heaven shining before him. No choice is left
+him&mdash;he must descend the precipice, and offer himself up a sacrifice to
+his fate. After the false step which I had rashly made, and which entailed a
+curse upon me, I had, in the wantonness of passion, entangled one in my fate
+who had staked all her happiness upon me. What was left for me to do in a case
+where I had brought another into misery, but to make a desperate leap in the
+dark to save her?&mdash;the last, the only means of rescue presented itself.
+Think not so meanly of me, Chamisso, as to imagine that I would have shrunk
+from any sacrifice on my part. In such a case it would have been but a poor
+ransom. No, Chamisso; but my whole soul was filled with unconquerable hatred to
+the cringing knave and his crooked ways. I might be doing him injustice; but I
+shuddered at the bare idea of entering into any fresh compact with him. But
+here a circumstance took place which entirely changed the face of things….
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I know not whether to ascribe it to excitement of mind, exhaustion of physical
+strength (for during the last few days I had scarcely tasted anything), or the
+antipathy I felt to the society of my fiendish companion; but just as I was
+about to sign the fatal paper, I fell into a deep swoon, and remained for a
+long time as if dead. The first sounds which greeted my ears on recovering my
+consciousness were those of cursing and imprecation; I opened my eyes&mdash;it
+was dusk; my hateful companion was overwhelming me with reproaches. &ldquo;Is
+not this behaving like an old woman? Come, rise up, and finish quickly what you
+were going to do; or perhaps you have changed your determination, and prefer to
+lie groaning there?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I raised myself with difficulty from the ground and gazed around me without
+speaking a word. It was late in the evening, and I heard strains of festive
+music proceeding from the ranger&rsquo;s brilliantly illuminated house; groups
+of company were lounging about the gardens; two persons approached, and seating
+themselves on the bench I had lately occupied, began to converse on the subject
+of the marriage which had taken place that morning between the wealthy Mr.
+Rascal and Minna. All was then over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I tore off the cap which rendered me invisible; and my companion having
+disappeared, I plunged in silence into the thickest gloom of the grove, rapidly
+passed Count Peter&rsquo;s bower towards the entrance-gate; but my tormentor
+still haunted me, and loaded me with reproaches. &ldquo;And is this all the
+gratitude I am to expect from you, Mr. Schlemihl&mdash;you, whom I have been
+watching all the weary day, until you should recover from your nervous attack?
+What a fool&rsquo;s part I have been enacting! It is of no use flying from me,
+Mr. Perverse&mdash;we are inseparable&mdash;you have my gold, I have your
+shadow; this exchange deprives us both of peace. Did you ever hear of a
+man&rsquo;s shadow leaving him?&mdash;yours follows me until you receive it
+again into favor, and thus free me from it. Disgust and weariness sooner or
+later will compel you to do what you should have done gladly at first. In vain
+you strive with fate!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He continued unceasingly in the same tone, uttering constant sarcasms about the
+gold and the shadow, till I was completely bewildered. To fly from him was
+impossible. I had pursued my way through the empty streets towards my own
+house, which I could scarcely recognize&mdash;the windows were broken to
+pieces, no light was visible, the doors were shut, and the bustle of domestics
+had ceased. My companion burst into a loud laugh. &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; said
+he, &ldquo;you see the state of things: however, you will find your friend
+Bendel at home; he was sent back the other day so fatigued, that I assure you
+he has never left the house since. He will have a fine story to tell! So I wish
+you a very good night&mdash;may we shortly meet again!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had repeatedly rung the bell; at last a light appeared; and Bendel inquired
+from within who was there. The poor fellow could scarcely contain himself at
+the sound of my voice. The door flew open, and we were locked in each
+other&rsquo;s arms. I found him sadly changed; he was looking ill and feeble.
+I, too, was altered; my hair had become quite gray. He conducted me through the
+desolate apartments to an inner room, which had escaped the general wreck.
+After partaking of some refreshments, we seated ourselves; and, with fresh
+lamentations, he began to tell me that the gray, withered old man whom he had
+met with my shadow had insensibly led him such a zig-zag race, that he had lost
+all traces of me, and at last sank down exhausted with fatigue; that, unable to
+find me, he had returned home, when, shortly after, the mob, at Rascal&rsquo;s
+instigation, assembled violently before the house, broke the windows, and by
+all sorts of excesses completely satiated their fury. Thus had they treated
+their benefactor. My servants had fled in all directions. The police had
+banished me from the town as a suspicious character, and granted me an interval
+of twenty-four hours to leave the territory. Bendel added many particulars as
+to the information I had already obtained respecting Rascal&rsquo;s wealth and
+marriage. This villain, it seems&mdash;who was the author of all the measures
+taken against me&mdash;became possessed of my secret nearly from the beginning,
+and, tempted by the love of money, had supplied himself with a key to my chest,
+and from that time had been laying the foundation of his present wealth. Bendel
+related all this with many tears, and wept for joy that I was once more safely
+restored to him, after all his fears and anxieties for me. In me, however, such
+a state of things only awoke despair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My dreadful fate now stared me in the face in all its gigantic and unchangeable
+horror. The source of tears was exhausted within me; no groans escaped my
+breast; but with cool indifference I bared my unprotected head to the blast.
+&ldquo;Bendel,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;you know my fate; this heavy visitation is
+a punishment for my early sins: but as for thee, my innocent friend, I can no
+longer permit thee to share my destiny. I will depart this very
+night&mdash;saddle me a horse&mdash;I will set out alone. Remain here,
+Bendel&mdash;I insist upon it: there must be some chests of gold still left in
+the house&mdash;take them, they are thine. I shall be a restless and solitary
+wanderer on the face of the earth; but should better days arise, and fortune
+once more smile propitiously on me, then I will not forget thy steady fidelity;
+for in hours of deep distress thy faithful bosom has been the depository of my
+sorrows.&rdquo; With a bursting heart, the worthy Bendel prepared to obey this
+last command of his master; for I was deaf to all his arguments and blind to
+his tears. My horse was brought&mdash;I pressed my weeping friend to my
+bosom&mdash;threw myself into the saddle, and, under the friendly shades of
+night, quitted this sepulchre of my existence, indifferent which road my horse
+should take; for now on this side the grave I had neither wishes, hopes, nor
+fears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a short time I was joined by a traveller on foot, who, after walking for
+a while by the side of my horse, observed that as we both seemed to be
+travelling the same road, he should beg my permission to lay his cloak on the
+horse&rsquo;s back behind me, to which I silently assented. He thanked me with
+easy politeness for this trifling favor, praised my horse, and then took
+occasion to extol the happiness and the power of the rich, and fell, I scarcely
+know how, into a sort of conversation with himself, in which I merely acted the
+part of listener. He unfolded his views of human life and of the world, and,
+touching on metaphysics, demanded an answer from that cloudy science to the
+question of questions&mdash;the answer that should solve all mysteries. He
+deduced one problem from another in a very lucid manner, and then proceeded to
+their solution.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+You may remember, my dear friend, that after having run through the
+school-philosophy, I became sensible of my unfitness for metaphysical
+speculations, and therefore totally abstained from engaging in them. Since then
+I have acquiesced in some things, and abandoned all hope of comprehending
+others; trusting, as you advised me, to my own plain sense and the voice of
+conscience to direct, and, if possible, maintain me in the right path.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now this skilful rhetorician seemed to me to expend great skill in rearing a
+firmly-constructed edifice, towering aloft on its own self-supported basis, but
+resting on, and upheld by, some internal principle of necessity. I regretted in
+it the total absence of what I desired to find; and thus it seemed a mere work
+of art, serving only by its elegance and exquisite finish to captivate the eye.
+Nevertheless, I listened with pleasure to this eloquently gifted man, who
+diverted my attention from my own sorrows to the speaker; and he would have
+secured my entire acquiescence if he had appealed to my heart as well as to my
+judgment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the meantime the hours had passed away, and morning had already dawned
+imperceptibly in the horizon; looking up, I shuddered as I beheld in the east
+all those splendid hues that announce the rising sun. At this hour, when all
+natural shadows are seen in their full proportions, not a fence or shelter of
+any kind could I descry in this open country, and I was not alone! I cast a
+glance at my companion, and shuddered again&mdash;it was the man in the gray
+coat himself! He laughed at my surprise, and said, without giving me time to
+speak: &ldquo;You see, according to the fashion of this world, mutual
+convenience binds us together for a time; there is plenty of time to think of
+parting. The road here along the mountain, which perhaps has escaped your
+notice, is the only one that you can prudently take; into the valley you dare
+not descend&mdash;the path over the mountain would but reconduct you to the
+town which you have left&mdash;my road, too, lies this way. I perceive you
+change color at the rising sun&mdash;I have no objections to let you have the
+loan of your shadow during our journey, and in return you may not be indisposed
+to tolerate my society. You have now no Bendel; but I will act for him. I
+regret that you are not over-fond of me; but that need not prevent you from
+accepting my poor services. The devil is not so black as he is painted.
+Yesterday you provoked me, I own; but now that is all forgotten, and you must
+confess I have this day succeeded in beguiling the wearisomeness of your
+journey. Come, take your shadow, and make trial of it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sun had risen, and we were meeting with passengers; so I reluctantly
+consented. With a smile, he immediately let my shadow glide down to the ground;
+and I beheld it take its place by that of my horse, and gayly trot along with
+me. My feelings were anything but pleasant. I rode through groups of country
+people, who respectfully made way for the well-mounted stranger. Thus I
+proceeded, occasionally stealing a side-long glance with a beating heart from
+my horse at the shadow once my own, but now, alas, accepted as a loan from a
+stranger, or rather a fiend. He moved on carelessly at my side, whistling a
+song. He being on foot, and I on horseback, the temptation to hazard a silly
+project occurred to me; so, suddenly turning my bridle, I set spurs to my
+horse, and at full gallop struck into a by-path; but my shadow, on the sudden
+movement of my horse, glided away, and stood on the road quietly awaiting the
+approach of its legal owner. I was obliged to return abashed towards the gray
+man; but he very coolly finished his song, and with a laugh set my shadow to
+rights again, reminding me that it was at my option to have it irrevocably
+fixed to me, by purchasing it on just and equitable terms. &ldquo;I hold
+you,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;by the shadow; and you seek in vain to get rid of
+me. A rich man like you requires a shadow, unquestionably; and you are to blame
+for not having seen this sooner.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now continued my journey on the same road; every convenience and even luxury
+of life was mine; I moved about in peace and freedom, for I possessed a shadow,
+though a borrowed one; and all the respect due to wealth was paid to me. But a
+deadly disease preyed on my heart. My extraordinary companion, who gave himself
+out to be the humble attendant of the richest individual in the world, was
+remarkable for his dexterity; in short, his singular address and promptitude
+admirably fitted him to be the very beau ideal of a rich man&rsquo;s lacquey.
+But he never stirred from my side, and tormented me with constant assurances
+that a day would most certainly come when, if it were only to get rid of him, I
+should gladly comply with his terms, and redeem my shadow. Thus he became as
+irksome as he was hateful to me. I really stood in awe of him&mdash;I had
+placed myself in his power. Since he had effected my return to the pleasures of
+the world, which I had resolved to shun, he had the perfect mastery of me. His
+eloquence was irresistible, and at times I almost thought he was in the right.
+A shadow is indeed necessary to a man of fortune; and if I chose to maintain
+the position in which he had placed me, there was only one means of doing so.
+But on one point I was immovable: since I had sacrificed my love for Minna, and
+thereby blighted the happiness of my whole life, I would not now, for all the
+shadows in the universe, be induced to sign away my soul to this being&mdash;I
+knew not how it might end.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day we were sitting by the entrance of a cavern much visited by strangers
+who ascended the mountain; the rushing noise of a subterranean torrent
+resounded from the fathomless abyss, the depths of which exceeded all
+calculation. He was, according to his favorite custom, employing all the powers
+of his lavish fancy, and all the charm of the most brilliant coloring, to
+depict to me what I might effect in the world by virtue of my purse, when once
+I had recovered my shadow. With my elbows resting on my knees, I kept my face
+concealed in my hands, and listened to the false fiend, my heart torn between
+the temptation and my determined opposition to it. Such indecision I could no
+longer endure, and resolved on one decisive effort.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You seem to forget,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;that I tolerate your presence
+only on certain conditions, and that I am to retain perfect freedom of
+action.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You have but to command; I depart,&rdquo; was all his reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The threat was familiar to me; I was silent. He then began to fold up my
+shadow. I turned pale, but allowed him to continue. A long silence ensued,
+which he was the first to break.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You cannot endure me, Mr. Schlemihl&mdash;you hate me&mdash;I am aware
+of it&mdash;but why?&mdash;is it, perhaps, because you attacked me on the open
+plain, in order to rob me of my invisible bird&rsquo;s nest? or is it because
+you thievishly endeavored to seduce away the shadow with which I had entrusted
+you&mdash;my own property&mdash;confiding implicitly in your honor? I, for my
+part, have no dislike to you. It is perfectly natural that you should avail
+yourself of every means, presented either, by cunning or force, to promote your
+own interests. That your principles also should be of the strictest sort, and
+your intentions of the most honorable description,&mdash;these are fancies with
+which I have nothing to do; I do not pretend to such strictness myself. Each of
+us is free, I to act, and you to think, as seems best. Did I ever seize you by
+the throat, to tear out of your body that valuable soul I so ardently wish to
+possess? Did I ever set my servant to attack you, to get back my purse, or
+attempt to run off with it from you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had not a word to reply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;you detest me, and I know it;
+but I bear you no malice on that account. We must part&mdash;that is clear;
+also I must say that you begin to be very tiresome to me. Once more let me
+advise you to free yourself entirely from my troublesome presence by the
+purchase of your shadow.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I held out the purse to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Mr. Schlemihl; not at that price.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a deep sigh, I said, &ldquo;Be it so, then; let us part, I entreat; cross
+my path no more. There is surely room enough in the world for us both.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Laughing, he replied: &ldquo;I go; but just allow me to inform you how you may
+at any time recall me whenever you have a mind to see your most humble servant:
+you have only to shake your purse, the sound of the gold will bring me to you
+in an instant. In this world every one consults his own advantage; but you see
+I have thought of yours, and clearly confer upon you a new power. Oh this
+purse! it would still prove a powerful bond between us, had the moth begun to
+devour your shadow. But enough: you hold me by my gold, and may command your
+servant at any distance. You know that I can be very serviceable to my friends,
+and that the rich are my peculiar care&mdash;this you have observed. As to your
+shadow, allow me to say, you can only redeem it on one condition.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Recollections of former days came over me; and I hastily asked him if he had
+obtained Mr. Thomas John&rsquo;s signature.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He smiled, and said: &ldquo;It was by no means necessary from so excellent a
+friend.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Where is he? for God&rsquo;s sake tell me; I insist upon knowing.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With some hesitation, he put his hand into his pocket, and drew out the altered
+and pallid form of Mr. John by the hair of his head, whose livid lips uttered
+the awful words, &ldquo;Justo judicio Dei judicatus sum; justo judicio Dei
+condemnatus sum&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I am judged and condemned by the just
+judgment of God.&rdquo; I was horror-struck; and instantly throwing the
+jingling purse into the abyss, I exclaimed, &ldquo;Wretch! in the name of
+Heaven, I conjure you to be gone!&mdash;away from my sight!&mdash;never appear
+before me again!&rdquo; With a dark expression on his countenance, he rose, and
+immediately vanished behind the huge rocks which surrounded the place.
+</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+<p>
+I was now left equally without gold and without shadow; but a heavy load was
+taken from my breast, and I felt cheerful. Had not my Minna been irrecoverably
+lost to me, or even had I been perfectly free from self-reproach on her
+account, I felt that happiness might yet have been mine. At present I was lost
+in doubt as to my future course. I examined my pockets, and found I had a few
+gold-pieces still left, which I counted with feelings of great satisfaction. I
+had left my horse at the inn, and was ashamed to return, or at all events I
+must wait till the sun had set, which at present was high in the heavens. I
+laid myself down under a shady tree and fell into a peaceful sleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lovely forms floated in airy measures before me, and filled up my delightful
+dreams. Minna, with a garland of flowers entwined in her hair, was bending over
+me with a smile of good-will; also the worthy Bendel was crowned with flowers,
+and hastened to meet me with friendly greetings. Many other forms seemed to
+rise up confusedly in the distance: thyself among the number, Chamisso. Perfect
+radiance beamed around them, but none had a shadow; and what was more
+surprising, there was no appearance of unhappiness on this account. Nothing was
+to be seen or heard but flowers and music; and love and joy, and groves of
+never-fading palms, seemed the natives of that happy clime.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In vain I tried to detain and comprehend the lovely but fleeting forms. I was
+conscious, also, of being in a dream, and was anxious that nothing should rouse
+me from it; and when I did awake, I kept my eyes closed, in order if possible
+to continue the illusion. At last I opened my eyes. The sun was now visible in
+the east; I must have slept the whole night: I looked upon this as a warning
+not to return to the inn. What I had left there I was content to lose, without
+much regret; and resigning myself to Providence, I decided on taking a by-road
+that led through the wooded declivity of the mountain. I never once cast a
+glance behind me; nor did it ever occur to me to return, as I might have done,
+to Bendel, whom I had left in affluence. I reflected on the new character I was
+now going to assume in the world. My present garb was very
+humble&mdash;consisting of an old black coat I formerly had worn at Berlin, and
+which by some chance was the first I put my hand on before setting out on this
+journey, a travelling-cap, and an old pair of boots. I cut down a knotted stick
+in memory of the spot, and commenced my pilgrimage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the forest I met an aged peasant, who gave me a friendly greeting, and with
+whom I entered into conversation, requesting, as a traveller desirous of
+information, some particulars relative to the road, the country, and its
+inhabitants, the productions of the mountain, etc. He replied to my various
+inquiries with readiness and intelligence. At last we reached the bed of a
+mountain-torrent, which had laid waste a considerable tract of the forest; I
+inwardly shuddered at the idea of the open sunshine. I suffered the peasant to
+go before me. In the middle of the very place which I dreaded so much, he
+suddenly stopped, and turned back to give me an account of this inundation; but
+instantly perceiving that I had no shadow, he broke off abruptly, and
+exclaimed: &ldquo;How is this?&mdash;you have no shadow!&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Alas, alas!&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;in a long and serious illness I had
+the misfortune to lose my hair, my nails, and my shadow. Look, good father;
+although my hair has grown again, it is quite white; and at my age my nails are
+still very short; and my poor shadow seems to have left me, never to
+return.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said the old man, shaking his head; &ldquo;no shadow! that
+was indeed a terrible illness, sir.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But he did not resume his narrative; and at the very first cross-road we came
+to left me without uttering a syllable. Fresh tears flowed from my eyes, and my
+cheerfulness had fled. With a heavy heart I travelled on, avoiding all society.
+I plunged into the deepest shades of the forest; and often, to avoid a sunny
+tract of country, I waited for hours till every human being had left it, and I
+could pass it unobserved. In the evenings I took shelter in the villages. I
+bent my steps to a mine in the mountains, where I hoped to meet with work
+underground; for besides that my present situation compelled me to provide for
+my own support, I felt that incessant and laborious occupation alone could
+divert my mind from dwelling on painful subjects. A few rainy days assisted me
+materially on my journey; but it was to the no small detriment of my boots, the
+soles of which were better suited to Count Peter than to the poor
+foot-traveller. I was soon barefoot, and a new purchase must be made. The
+following morning I commenced an earnest search in a market-place, where a fair
+was being held; and I saw in one of the booths new and second-hand boots set
+out for sale. I was a long time selecting and bargaining; I wished much to have
+a new pair, but was frightened at the extravagant price; and so was obliged to
+content myself with a second-hand pair, still pretty good and strong, which the
+beautiful fair-haired youth who kept the booth handed over to me with a
+cheerful smile, wishing me a prosperous journey. I went on, and left the place
+immediately by the northern gate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was so lost in my own thoughts, that I walked along scarcely knowing how or
+where. I was calculating the chances of my reaching the mine by the evening,
+and considering how I should introduce myself. I had not gone two hundred
+steps, when I perceived I was not in the right road. I looked round, and found
+myself in a wild-looking forest of ancient firs, where apparently the stroke of
+the axe had never been heard. A few steps more brought me amid huge rocks
+covered with moss and saxifragous plants, between which whole fields of snow
+and ice were extended. The air was intensely cold. I looked round, and the
+forest had disappeared behind me; a few steps more, and there was the stillness
+of death itself. The icy plain on which I stood stretched to an immeasurable
+distance, and a thick cloud rested upon it; the sun was of a red blood-color at
+the verge of the horizon: the cold was insupportable. I could not imagine what
+had happened to me. The benumbing frost made me quicken my pace. I heard a
+distant sound of waters; and at one step more I stood on the icy shore of some
+ocean. Innumerable droves of sea-dogs rushed past me and plunged into the
+waves. I continued my way along this coast, and again met with rocks, plains,
+birch and fir forests, and yet only a few minutes had elapsed. It was now
+intensely hot. I looked around, and suddenly found myself between some fertile
+rice-fields and mulberry trees; I sat down under their shade, and found by my
+watch that it was just one quarter of an hour since I had left the village
+market. I fancied it was a dream; but no, I was indeed awake, as I felt by the
+experiment I made of biting my tongue. I closed my eyes in order to collect my
+scattered thoughts. Presently I heard unintelligible words uttered in a nasal
+tone; and I beheld two Chinese, whose Asiatic physiognomies were not to be
+mistaken, even had their costume not betrayed their origin. They were
+addressing me in the language and with the salutations of their country. I rose
+and drew back a couple of steps. They had disappeared; the landscape was
+entirely changed; the rice-fields had given place to trees and woods. I
+examined some of the trees and plants around me, and ascertained such of them
+as I was acquainted with to be productions of the southern part of Asia. I made
+one step towards a particular tree, and again all was changed. I now moved on
+like a recruit at drill, taking slow and measured steps, gazing with astonished
+eyes at the wonderful variety of regions, plains, meadows, mountains, steppes,
+and sandy deserts, which passed in succession before me. I had now no doubt
+that I had seven-leagued boots on my feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I fell on my knees in silent gratitude, shedding tears of thankfulness; for I
+now saw clearly what was to be my future condition. Shut out by early sins from
+all human society, I was offered amends for the privation by Nature herself,
+which I had ever loved. The earth was granted me as a rich garden; and the
+knowledge of her operations was to be the study and object of my life. This was
+not a mere resolution. I have since endeavored, with anxious and unabated
+industry, faithfully to imitate the finished and brilliant model then presented
+to me; and my vanity has received a check when led to compare the picture with
+the original. I rose immediately, and took a hasty survey of this new field,
+where I hoped afterwards to reap a rich harvest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stood on the heights of Thibet; and the sun I had lately beheld in the east
+was now sinking in the west. I traversed Asia from east to west, and thence
+passed into Africa, which I curiously examined, at repeated visits, in all
+directions. As I gazed on the ancient pyramids and temples of Egypt, I
+descried, in the sandy deserts near Thebes of the hundred gates, the caves
+where Christian hermits dwelt of old.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My determination was instantly taken, that here should be my future dwelling. I
+chose one of the most secluded, but roomy, comfortable, and inaccessible to the
+jackals.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stepped over from the pillars of Hercules to Europe; and having taken a
+survey of its northern and southern countries, I passed by the north of Asia,
+on the polar glaciers, to Greenland and America, visiting both parts of this
+continent; and the winter, which was already at its height in the south, drove
+me quickly back from Cape Horn to the north. I waited till daylight had risen
+in the east of Asia, and then, after a short rest, continued my pilgrimage. I
+followed in both the Americas the vast chain of the Andes, once considered the
+loftiest on our globe. I stepped carefully and slowly from one summit to
+another, sometimes over snowy heights, sometimes over flaming volcanoes, often
+breathless from fatigue. At last I reached Elias&rsquo;s mountain, and sprang
+over Behring&rsquo;s Straits into Asia; I followed the western coast in its
+various windings, carefully observing which of the neighboring isles was
+accessible to me. From the peninsula of Malacca my boots carried me to Sumatra,
+Java, Bali, and Lombok. I made many attempts&mdash;often with danger, and
+always unsuccessfully&mdash;to force my way over the numerous little islands
+and rocks with which this sea is studded, wishing to find a northwest passage
+to Borneo and other islands of the Archipelago.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last I sat down at the extreme point of Lombok, my eyes turned towards the
+southeast, lamenting that I had so soon reached the limits allotted to me, and
+bewailing my fate as a captive in his grated cell. Thus was I shut out from
+that remarkable country, New Holland, and the islands of the southern ocean, so
+essentially necessary to a knowledge of the earth, and which would have best
+assisted me in the study of the animal and vegetable kingdoms. And thus, at the
+very outset, I beheld all my labors condemned to be limited to mere fragments.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ah! Chamisso, what is the activity of man?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Frequently in the most rigorous winters of the southern hemisphere I have
+rashly thrown myself on a fragment of drifting ice between Cape Horn and Van
+Diemen&rsquo;s Land, in the hope of effecting a passage to New Holland,
+reckless of the cold and the vast ocean, reckless of my fate, even should this
+savage land prove my grave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But all in vain&mdash;I never reached New Holland. Each time, when defeated in
+my attempt, I returned to Lombok; and seated at its extreme point, my eyes
+directed to the southeast, I gave way afresh to lamentations that my range of
+investigation was so limited. At last I tore myself from the spot, and,
+heartily grieved at my disappointment, returned to the interior of Asia.
+Setting out at morning dawn, I traversed it from east to west, and at night
+reached the cave in Thebes which I had previously selected for my
+dwelling-place, and had visited yesterday afternoon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a short repose, as soon as daylight had visited Europe, it was my first
+care to provide myself with the articles of which I stood most in need. First
+of all a drag to act on my boots; for I had experienced the inconvenience of
+these whenever I wished to shorten my steps and examine surrounding objects
+more fully. A pair of slippers to go over the boots served the purpose
+effectually; and from that time I carried two pairs about me, because I
+frequently cast them off from my feet in my botanical investigations, without
+having time to pick them up, when threatened by the approach of lions, men, or
+hyenas. My excellent watch, owing to the short duration of my movements, was
+also on these occasions an admirable chronometer. I wanted, besides, a sextant,
+a few philosophical instruments, and some books. To purchase these things, I
+made several unwilling journeys to London and Paris, choosing a time when I
+could be hid by the favoring clouds. As all my ill-gotten gold was exhausted, I
+carried over from Africa some ivory, which is there so plentiful, in payment of
+my purchases&mdash;taking care, however; to pick out the smallest teeth, in
+order not to overburden myself. I had thus soon provided myself with all that I
+wanted, and now entered on a new mode of life as a student&mdash;wandering over
+the globe&mdash;measuring the height of the mountains, and the temperature of
+the air and of the springs&mdash;observing the manners and habits of
+animals&mdash;investigating plants and flowers. From the equator to the pole,
+and from the new world to the old, I was constantly engaged in repeating and
+comparing my experiments.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My usual food consisted of the eggs of the African ostrich or northern
+sea-birds, with a few fruits, especially those of the palm and the banana of
+the tropics. The tobacco-plant consoled me when I was depressed; and the
+affection of my spaniel was a compensation for the loss of human sympathy and
+society. When I returned from my excursions, loaded with fresh treasures, to my
+cave in Thebes, which he guarded during my absence, he ever sprang joyfully
+forward to greet me, and made me feel that I was indeed not alone on the earth.
+An adventure soon occurred which brought me once more among my
+fellow-creatures.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day, as I was gathering lichens and algae on the northern coast, with the
+drag on my boots, a bear suddenly made his appearance, and was stealing towards
+me round the corner of a rock. After throwing away my slippers, I attempted to
+step across to an island, by means of a rock, projecting from the waves in the
+intermediate space, that served as a stepping-stone. I reached the rock safely
+with one foot, but instantly fell into the sea with the other, one of my
+slippers having inadvertently remained on. The cold was intense; and I escaped
+this imminent peril at the risk of my life. On coming ashore, I hastened to the
+Libyan sands to dry myself in the sun; but the heat affected my head so much,
+that, in a fit of illness, I staggered back to the north. In vain I sought
+relief by change of place&mdash;hurrying from east to west, and from west to
+east&mdash;now in climes of the south, now in those of the north; sometimes I
+rushed into daylight, sometimes into the shades of night. I know not how long
+this lasted. A burning fever raged in my veins; with extreme anguish I felt my
+senses leaving me. Suddenly, by an unlucky accident, I trod upon some
+one&rsquo;s foot, whom I had hurt, and received a blow in return which laid me
+senseless.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On recovering, I found myself lying comfortably in a good bed, which, with many
+other beds, stood in a spacious and handsome apartment. Some one was watching
+by me; people seemed to be walking from one bed to another; they came beside
+me, and spoke of me as NUMBER TWELVE. On the wall, at the foot of my
+bed&mdash;it was no dream, for I distinctly read it&mdash;on a black-marble
+tablet was inscribed my name, in large letters of gold:
+</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+PETER SCHLEMIHL.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Underneath were two rows of letters in smaller characters, which I was too
+feeble to connect together, and closed my eyes again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now heard something read aloud, in which I distinctly noted the words,
+&ldquo;Peter Schlemihl,&rdquo; but could not collect the full meaning. I saw a
+man of benevolent aspect, and a very beautiful female dressed in black,
+standing near my bed; their countenances were not unknown to me, but in my weak
+state I could not remember who they were. Some time elapsed, and I began to
+regain my strength. I was called Number Twelve, and, from my long beard, was
+supposed to be a Jew, but was not the less carefully nursed on that account. No
+one seemed to perceive that I was destitute of a shadow. My boots, I was
+assured, together with everything found on me when I was brought here, were in
+safe keeping, and would be given up to me on my restoration to health. This
+place was called the SCHLEMIHLIUM: the daily recitation I had heard was an
+exhortation to pray for Peter Schlemihl as the founder and benefactor of this
+institution. The benevolent-looking man whom I had seen by my bedside was
+Bendel; the beautiful lady in black was Minna. I had been enjoying the
+advantages of the Schlemihlium without being recognized; and I learned,
+further, that I was in Bendel&rsquo;s native town, where he had employed a part
+of my once unhallowed gold in founding an hospital in my name, under his
+superintendence, and that its unfortunate inmates daily pronounced blessings on
+me. Minna had become a widow: an unhappy lawsuit had deprived Rascal of his
+life, and Minna of the greater part of her property. Her parents were no more;
+and here she dwelt in widowed piety, wholly devoting herself to works of mercy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day, as she stood by the side of Number Twelve&rsquo;s bed with Bendel, he
+said to her, &ldquo;Noble lady, why expose yourself so frequently to this
+unhealthy atmosphere? Has fate dealt so harshly with you as to render you
+desirous of death?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;By no means, Mr. Bendel,&rdquo; she replied; &ldquo;since I have awoke
+from my long dream, all has gone well with me. I now neither wish for death nor
+fear it, and think on the future and on the past with equal serenity. Do you
+not also feel an inward satisfaction in thus paying a pious tribute of
+gratitude and love to your old master and friend?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Thanks be to God, I do, noble lady,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Ah, how
+wonderfully has everything fallen out! How thoughtlessly have we sipped joys
+and sorrows from the full cup now drained to the last drop; and we might fancy
+the past a mere prelude to the real scene for which we now wait armed by
+experience. How different has been the reality! Yet let us not regret the past,
+but rather rejoice that we have not lived in vain. As respects our old friend
+also, I have a firm hope that it is now better with him than formerly.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I trust so, too,&rdquo; answered Minna; and so saying, she passed by me,
+and they departed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This conversation made a deep impression on me; and I hesitated whether I
+should discover myself or depart unknown. At last I decided; and, asking for
+pen and paper, wrote as follows:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Matters are indeed better with your old friend than formerly. He has
+repented; and his repentance has led to forgiveness.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now attempted to rise, for I felt myself stronger. The keys of a little chest
+near my bed were given me; and in it I found all my effects. I put on my
+clothes; fastened my botanical case round me&mdash;wherein, with delight, I
+found my northern lichens all safe&mdash;put on my boots, and, leaving my note
+on the table, left the gates, and was speedily far advanced on the road to
+Thebes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Passing along the Syrian coast, which was the same road I had taken on last
+leaving home, I beheld my poor Figaro running to meet me. The faithful animal,
+after vainly waiting at home for his master&rsquo;s return, had probably
+followed his traces. I stood still, and called him. He sprang towards me with
+leaps and barks, and a thousand demonstrations of unaffected delight. I took
+him in my arms&mdash;for he was unable to follow me&mdash;and carried him home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There I found everything exactly in the order in which I had left it; and
+returned by degrees, as my increasing strength allowed me, to my old
+occupations and usual mode of life, from which I was kept back a whole year by
+my fall into the Polar Ocean. And this, dear Chamisso, is the life I am still
+leading. My boots are not yet worn out, as I had been led to fear would be the
+case from that very learned work of Tieckius&mdash;De Rebus Gestis Pollicilli.
+Their energies remain unimpaired; and although mine are gradually failing me, I
+enjoy the consolation of having spent them in pursuing incessantly one object,
+and that not fruitlessly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So far as my boots would carry me, I have observed and studied our globe and
+its conformation, its mountains and temperature, the atmosphere in its various
+changes, the influences of the magnetic power; in fact, I have studied all
+living creation&mdash;and more especially the kingdom of plants&mdash;more
+profoundly than any one of our race. I have arranged all the facts in proper
+order, to the best of my ability, in different works. The consequences
+deducible from these facts, and my views respecting them, I have hastily
+recorded in some essays and dissertations. I have settled the geography of the
+interior of Africa and the Arctic regions, of the interior of Asia and of its
+eastern coast. My Historia Stirpium Plantarum Utriusque Orbis is an extensive
+fragment of a Flora universalis terrae and a part of my Systema Naturae.
+Besides increasing the number of our known species by more than a third, I have
+also contributed somewhat to the natural system of plants and to a knowledge of
+their geography. I am now deeply engaged on my Fauna, and shall take care to
+have my manuscripts sent to the University of Berlin before my decease.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have selected thee, my dear Chamisso, to be the guardian of my wonderful
+history, thinking that, when I have left this world, it may afford valuable
+instruction to the living. As for thee, Chamisso, if thou wouldst live amongst
+thy fellow-creatures, learn to value thy shadow more than gold; if thou wouldst
+only live to thyself and thy nobler part&mdash;in this thou needest no counsel.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
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+Project Gutenberg's Stories by Foreign Authors: German (V.2), by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
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+
+
+Title: Stories by Foreign Authors: German (V.2)
+
+Author: Various
+
+Posting Date: April 21, 2013 [EBook #6022]
+Release Date: July, 2004
+First Posted: October 19, 2002
+
+Language: English
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+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES BY FOREIGN AUTHORS: ***
+
+
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+Produced by Nicole Apostola, Charles Aldarondo, Charles
+Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
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+
+STORIES BY FOREIGN AUTHORS - GERMAN
+
+CHRISTIAN GELLERT'S LAST CHRISTMAS ...... BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH
+
+A GHETTO VIOLET ..... BY LEOPOLD KOMPERT
+
+THE SEVERED HAND .... BY WILHELM HAUFF
+
+PETER SCHLEMIHL ..... BY ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO
+
+
+
+
+PUBLISHERS' NOTE
+
+The translations in this volume, where previously published, are used
+by arrangement with the owners of the copyrights (as specified at the
+beginning of each story). Translations made especially for the series
+are covered by its general copyright. All rights in both classes are
+reserved.
+
+
+
+
+CHRISTIAN GELLERT'S LAST CHRISTMAS
+
+BY
+
+BERTHOLD AUERBACH
+
+
+From "German Tales."
+
+1869
+
+
+Three o'clock had just struck from the tower of St. Nicholas, Leipzig,
+on the afternoon of December 22d, 1768, when a man, wrapped in a loose
+overcoat, came out of the door of the University. His countenance was
+exceedingly gentle, and on his features cheerfulness still lingered, for
+he had been gazing upon a hundred cheerful faces; after him thronged a
+troop of students, who, holding back, allowed him to precede them: the
+passengers in the streets saluted him, and some students, who pressed
+forwards and hurried past him homewards, saluted him quite
+reverentially. He returned their salutations with a surprised and almost
+deprecatory air, and yet he knew, and could not conceal from himself,
+that he was one of the best beloved, not only in the good city of
+Leipzig, but in all lands far and wide.
+
+It was Christian Furchtegott Gellert, the Poet of Fables, Hymns, and
+Lays, who was just leaving his college.
+
+When we read his "Lectures upon Morals," which were not printed until
+after his death, we obtain but a very incomplete idea of the great power
+with which they came immediately from Gellert's mouth. Indeed, it was
+his voice, and the touching manner in which he delivered his lectures,
+that made so deep an impression upon his hearers; and Rabener was right
+when once he wrote to a friend, that "the philanthropic voice" of
+Gellert belonged to his words.
+
+Above all, however, it was the amiable and pure personal character of
+Gellert which vividly and edifyingly impressed young hearts. Gellert was
+himself the best example of pure moral teaching; and the best which a
+teacher can give his pupils is faith in the victorious might, and the
+stability of the eternal moral laws. His lessons were for the Life, for
+his life in itself was a lesson. Many a victory over the troubles of
+life, over temptations of every kind, ay, many an elevation to nobility
+of thought, and to purity of action, had its origin in that
+lecture-hall, at the feet of Gellert.
+
+It was as though Gellert felt that it was the last time he would deliver
+these lectures; that those words so often and so impressively uttered
+would be heard no more from his mouth; and there was a peculiar sadness,
+yet a peculiar strength, in all he said that day.
+
+He had this day earnestly recommended modesty and humility; and it
+appeared almost offensive to him, that people as he went should tempt
+him in regard to these very virtues; for continually he heard men
+whisper, "That is Gellert!"
+
+What is fame, and what is honor? A cloak of many colors, without warmth,
+without protection: and now, as he walked along, his heart literally
+froze in his bosom, as he confessed to himself that he had as yet done
+nothing--nothing which could give him a feeling of real satisfaction.
+Men honored him and loved him: but what was all that worth? His
+innermost heart could not be satisfied with that; in his own estimation
+he deserved no meed of praise; and where, where was there any evidence
+of that higher and purer life which he would fain bring about! Then,
+again, the Spirit would comfort him and say: "Much seed is lost, much
+falls in stony places, and much on good ground and brings forth
+sevenfold."
+
+His inmost soul heard not the consolation, for his body was weak and
+sore burdened from his youth up, and in his latter days yet more than
+ever; and there are conditions of the body in which the most elevating
+words, and the cheeriest notes of joy, strike dull and heavy on the
+soul. It is one of the bitterest experiences of life to discover how
+little one man can really be to another. How joyous is that youthful
+freshness which can believe that, by a thought transferred to another's
+heart, we can induce him to become another being, to live according to
+what he must acknowledge true, to throw aside his previous delusions,
+and return to the right path!
+
+The youngsters go their way! Do your words follow after? Whither are
+they going? What are now their thoughts? What manner of life will be
+theirs? "My heart yearns after them, but cannot be with them: oh, how
+happy were those messengers of the Spirit, who cried aloud to youth or
+manhood the words of the Spirit, that they must leave their former ways,
+and thenceforth change to other beings! Pardon me, O God! that I would
+fain be like them; I am weak and vile, and yet, methinks, there must be
+words as yet unheard, unknown--oh! where are they, those words which at
+once lay hold upon the soul?"
+
+With such heavy thoughts went Gellert away from his college-gate to
+Rosenthal. There was but one small pathway cleared, but the passers
+cheerfully made way for him, and walked in the snow that they might
+leave him the pathway unimpeded; but he felt sad, and "as if each tree
+had somewhat to cast at him." Like all men really pure, and cleaving to
+the good with all their might, Gellert was not only far from contenting
+himself with work already done: he also, in his anxiety to be doing,
+almost forgot that he the inward depression easily changes to
+displeasure against every one, and the household of the melancholic
+suffers thereby intolerably; for the displeasure turns against them,--no
+one does anything properly, nothing is in its place. How very different
+is Gellert's melancholy! Not a soul suffers from it but himself, against
+himself alone his gloomy thoughts turn, and towards every other creature
+he is always kind, amiable, and obliging: he bites his lips; but when
+he speaks to any one, he is wholly good, forbearing, and self-forgetful.
+
+Whilst they were talking together, Gellert was sitting in his room, and
+had lighted a pipe to dispel the agitation which he would experience in
+opening his letters; and while smoking, he could read them much more
+comfortably. He reproached himself for smoking, which was said to be
+injurious to his health, but he could not quite give up the "horrible
+practice," as he called it.
+
+He first examined the addresses and seals of the letters which had
+arrived, then quietly opened and read them. A fitful smile passed over
+his features; there were letters from well-known friends, full of love
+and admiration, but from strangers also, who, in all kinds of
+heart-distress, took counsel of him. He read the letters full of
+friendly applause, first hastily, that he might have the right of
+reading them again, and that he might not know all at once; and when he
+had read a friend's letter for the second time, he sprang from his seat
+and cried, "Thank God! thank God! that I am so fortunate as to have such
+friends!" To his inwardly diffident nature these helps were a real
+requirement; they served to cheer him, and only those who did not know
+him called his joy at the reception of praise--conceit; it was, on the
+contrary, the truest modesty. How often did he sit there, and all that
+he had taught and written, all that he had ever been to men in word and
+deed, faded, vanished, and died away, and he appeared to himself but a
+useless servant of the world. His friends he answered immediately; and
+as his inward melancholy vanished, and the philanthropy, nay, the
+sprightliness of his soul beamed forth, when he was among men and looked
+in a living face, so was it also with his letters. When he bethought him
+of the friends to whom he was writing, he not only acquired
+tranquillity, that virtue for which his whole life long he strove; but
+his loving nature received new life, and only by slight intimations did
+he betray the heaviness and dejection which weighed upon his soul. He
+was, in the full sense of the word, "philanthropic," in the sight of
+good men; and in thoughts for their welfare, there was for him a real
+happiness and a joyous animation.
+
+When, however, he had done writing and felt lonely again, the gloomy
+spirits came back: he had seated himself, wishing to raise his thoughts
+for composing a sacred song; but he was ill at ease, and had no power
+to express that inward, firm, and self-rejoicing might of faith which
+lived in him. Again and again the scoffers and free-thinkers rose up
+before his thoughts: he must refute their objections, and not until that
+was done did he become himself.
+
+It is a hard position, when a creative spirit cannot forget the
+adversaries which on all sides oppose him in the world: they come
+unsummoned to the room and will not be expelled; they peer over the
+shoulder, and tug at the hand which fain would write; they turn images
+upside down, and distort the thoughts; and here and there, from ceiling
+and wall, they grin, and scoff, and oppose: and what was just gushing
+as an aspiration from the soul, is converted to a confused absurdity.
+
+At such a time, the spirit, courageous and self-dependent, must take
+refuge in itself and show a firm front to a world of foes.
+
+A strong nature boldly hurls his inkstand at the Devil's head; goes to
+battle with his opponents with words both written and spoken; and keeps
+his own individuality free from the perplexities with which opponents
+disturb all that has been previously done, and make the soul unsteadfast
+and unnerved for what is to come.
+
+Gellert's was no battling, defiant nature, which relies upon itself; he
+did not hurl his opponents down and go his way; he would convince them,
+and so they were always ready to encounter him. And as the applause of
+his friends rejoiced him, so the opposition of his enemies could sink
+him in deep dejection. Besides, he had always been weakly; he had, as
+he himself complained, in addition to frequent coughs and a pain in his
+loins, a continual gnawing and pressure in the centre of his chest,
+which accompanied him from his first rising in the morning until he
+slept at night.
+
+Thus he sat for a while, in deep dejection: and, as often before, his
+only wish was, that God would give him grace whereby when his hour was
+come, he might die piously and tranquilly.
+
+It was past midnight when he sought his bed and extinguished his light.
+
+And the buckets at the well go up and go down.
+
+About the same hour, in Duben Forest, the rustic Christopher was rising
+from his bed. As with steel and flint he scattered sparks upon the
+tinder, in kindling himself a light, his wife, awakening, cried:
+
+"Why that heavy sigh?"
+
+"Ah! life is a burden: I'm the most harassed mortal in the world. The
+pettiest office-clerk may now be abed in peace, and needn't break off
+his sleep, while I must go out and brave wind and weather."
+
+"Be content," replied his wife: "why, I dreamt you had actually been
+made magistrate, and wore something on your head like a king's crown."
+
+"Oh! you women; as though what you see isn't enough, you like to chatter
+about what you dream."
+
+"Light the lamp, too," said his wife, "and I'll get up and make you a
+nice porridge."
+
+The peasant, putting a candle in his lantern, went to the stable; and
+after he had given some fodder to the horses, he seated himself upon the
+manger. With his hands squeezed between his knees and his head bent
+down, he reflected over and over again what a wretched existence he had
+of it. "Why," thought he, "are so many men so well-off, so comfortable,
+whilst you must be always toiling? What care I if envy be not a
+virtue?--and yet I'm not envious, I don't grudge others being well-off,
+only I should like to be well-off too; oh, for a quiet, easy life! Am
+I not worse off than a horse? He gets his fodder at the proper time, and
+takes no care about it. Why did my father make my brother a minister?
+He gets his salary without any trouble, sits in a warm room, has no care
+in the world; and I must slave and torment myself."
+
+Strange to say, his very next thought, that he would like to be made
+local magistrate, he would in no wise confess to himself.
+
+He sat still a long while; then he went back again to the sitting-room,
+past the kitchen, where the fire was burning cheerily. He seated himself
+at the table and waited for his morning porridge. On the table lay an
+open book; his children had been reading it the previous evening:
+involuntarily taking it up, he began to read. Suddenly he started,
+rubbed his eyes, and then read again. How comes this verse here just at
+this moment? He kept his hand upon the book, and so easily had he caught
+the words, that he repeated them to himself softly with his lips, and
+nodded several times, as much as to say: "That's true!" And he said
+aloud: "It's all there together: short and sweet!" and he was still
+staring at it, when his wife brought in the smoking porridge. Taking off
+his cap, he folded his hands and said aloud:
+
+     "Accept God's gifts with resignation,
+       Content to lack what thou hast not:
+      In every lot there's consolation;
+       There's trouble, too, in every lot!"
+
+The wife looked at her husband with amazement. What a strange expression
+was upon his face! And as he sat down and began to eat, she said: "What
+is the meaning of that grace? What has to you? Where did you find it?"
+
+"It the best of all graces, the very best,--real God's word. Yes, and
+all your life you've never made such nice porridge before. You must have
+put something special in it!"
+
+"I don't know what you mean. Stop! There's the book lying there--ah!
+that's it--and it's by Gellert, of Leipzig."
+
+"What! Gellert, of Leipzig! Men with ideas like that don't live now;
+there may have been such, a thousand years ago, in holy lands, not among
+us; those are the words of a saint of old."
+
+"And I tell you they are by Gellert, of Leipzig, of whom your brother
+has told us; in fact, he was his tutor, and haven't you heard how pious
+and good he is?"
+
+"I wouldn't have believed that such men still lived, and so near us,
+too, as Leipzig."
+
+"Well, but those who lived a thousand years ago were also once living
+creatures: and over Leipzig is just the same heaven, and the same sun
+shines, and the same God rules, as over all other cities."
+
+"Oh! yes, my brother has an apt pupil in you!"
+
+"Well, and why not? I've treasured up all he told us of Professor
+Gellert."
+
+"Professor!"
+
+"Yes, Professor!"
+
+"A man with such a proud, new-fangled title couldn't write anything like
+that!"
+
+"He didn't give himself the title, and he is poor enough withal! and how
+hard it has fared with him! Even from childhood he has been well
+acquainted with poverty: his father was a poor minister in Haynichen,
+with thirteen children; Gellert, when quite a little fellow, was obliged
+to be a copying office-clerk: who can tell whether he didn't then
+contract that physical weakness of his? And now that he's an old man,
+things will never go better with him; he has often no wood, and must be
+pinched with cold. It is with him, perhaps, as with that student of whom
+your brother has told us, who is as poor as a rat, and yet must read;
+and so in winter he lies in bed with an empty stomach, until day is far
+advanced; and he has his book before him, and first he takes out one
+hand to hold his book, and then, when that is numb with cold, the other.
+Ah! tongue cannot tell how poorly the man must live; and yet your
+brother has told me, if he has but a few pounds, he doesn't think at all
+of himself; he always looks out for one still poorer than he is, and
+then gives all away: and he's always engaged in aiding and assisting
+others. Oh! dear, and yet he is so poor! May be at this moment he is
+hungry and cold; and he is said to be in ill-health, besides."
+
+"Wife, I would willingly do the man a good turn if I could. If, now, he
+had some land, I could plough, and sow, and reap, and carry, and thresh
+by the week together for him. I should like to pay him attention in such
+a way that he might know there was at least one who cared for him. But
+his profession is one in which I can't be of any use to him."
+
+"Well, just seek him out and speak with him once; you are going to-day,
+you know, with your wood to Leipzig. Seek him out and thank him; that
+sort of thing does such a man's heart good. Anybody can see him."
+
+"Yes, yes; I should like much to see him, and hold out to him my
+hand,--but not empty: I wish I had something!"
+
+"Speak to your brother, and get him to give you a note to him."
+
+"No, no; say nothing to my brother; but it might be possible for me to
+meet him in the street. Give me my Sunday coat; it will come to no harm
+under my cloak."
+
+When his wife brought him the coat, she said: "If, now, Gellert had a
+wife, or a household of his own, one might send him something; but your
+brother says he is a bachelor, and lives quite alone."
+
+Christopher had never before so cheerfully harnessed his horses and put
+them to his wood-laden wagon; for a long while he had not given his hand
+so gayly to his wife at parting as to-day. Now he started with his
+heavily-laden vehicle through the village; the wheels creaked and
+crackled in the snow. At the parsonage he stopped, and looked away
+yonder where his brother was still sleeping; he thought he would wake
+him and tell him his intention: but suddenly he whipped up his horses,
+and continued his route. He wouldn't yet bind himself to his
+intention--perchance it was but a passing thought; he doesn't own that
+to himself, but he says to himself that he will surprise his brother
+with the news of what he has done; and then his thoughts wandered away
+to the good man still sleeping yonder in the city; and he hummed the
+verse to himself in an old familiar tune.
+
+Wonderfully in life do effects manifest themselves, of which we have no
+trace. Gellert, too, heard in his dreams a singing; he knew not what it
+was, but it rang so consolingly, so joyously! ... Christopher drove on,
+and he felt as though a bandage had been taken from his eyes; he
+reflected what a nice house, what a bonny wife and rosy children he had,
+and how warm the cloak which he had thrown over him was, and how well
+off were both man and beast; and through the still night he drove along,
+and beside him sat a spirit; but not an illusion of the brain, such as
+in olden time men conjured up to their terror, a good spirit sat beside
+him--beside the woodman who his whole life long had never believed that
+anything could have power over him but what had hands and feet.
+
+It is said that, on troublous nights, evil spirits settle upon the necks
+of men, and belabor them so that they gasp and sweat for very terror;
+quite another sort it was to-day which sat by the woodman: and his heart
+was warm, and its beating quick.
+
+In ancient times, men also carried loads of wood through the night, that
+heretics might be burned thereon: these men thought they were doing a
+good deed in helping to execute justice; and who can say how painful it
+was to their hearts, when they were forced to think: To-morrow, on this
+wood which now you carry, will shriek, and crackle, and gasp, a human
+being like yourself? Who can tell what black spirits settled on the
+necks of those who bore the wood to make the funeral-pile? How very
+different was it to-day with our woodman Christopher!
+
+And earlier still, in ancient times, men brought wood to the temple,
+whereon they offered victims in the honor of God; and, according to
+their notions, they did a good deed: for when words can no longer
+suffice to express the fervency of the heart, it gladly offers what it
+prizes, what it dearly loves, as a proof of its devotion, of the
+earnestness of its intent.
+
+How differently went Christopher from the Duben Forest upon his way! He
+knew not whether he were intending to bring a purer offering than men
+had brought in bygone ages; but his heart grew warm within him.
+
+It was day as he arrived before the gates of Leipzig. Here there met him
+a funeral-procession; behind the bier the scholars of St. Thomas, in
+long black cloaks, were chanting. Christopher stopped and raised his
+hat. Whom were they burying? Supposing it were Gellert.--Yes, surely,
+he thought, it is he: and how gladly, said he to himself, would you now
+have done him a kindness--ay, even given him your wood! Yes, indeed you
+would, and now he is dead, and you cannot give him any help!
+
+As soon as the train had passed, Christopher asked who was being buried.
+It was a simple burgher, it was not Gellert; and in the deep breath
+which Christopher drew lay a double signification: on the one hand, was
+joy that Gellert was not dead; on the other, a still small voice
+whispered to him that he had now really promised to give him the wood:
+ah! but whom had he promised?--himself: and it is easy to argue with
+one's own conscience.
+
+Superstition babbles of conjuring-spells, by which, without the
+co-operation of the patient, the evil spirit can be summarily ejected.
+It would be convenient if one had that power, but, in truth, it is not
+so: it is long ere the evil desire and the evil habit are removed from
+the soul into which they have nestled; and the will, for a long while
+in bondage, must co-operate, if a releasing spell from without is to set
+the prisoner free. One can only be guided, but himself must move his
+feet.
+
+As Christopher now looked about him, he found that he had stopped close
+by an inn; he drove his load a little aside, went into the parlor, and
+drank a glass of warmed beer. There was already a goodly company, and
+not far from Christopher sat a husbandman with his son, a student here,
+who was telling him how there had been lately quite a stir. Professor
+Gellert had been ill, and riding a well-trained horse had been
+recommended for his health. Now Prince Henry of Prussia, during the
+Seven Years' War, at the occupation of Leipzig, had sent him a piebald,
+that had died a short time ago; and the Elector, hearing of it, had sent
+Gellert from Dresden another--a chestnut--with golden bridle, blue
+velvet saddle, and gold-embroidered housings. Half the city had
+assembled when the groom, a man with iron-gray hair, brought the horse;
+and for several days it was to be seen at the stable; but Gellert dared
+not mount it, it was so young and high-spirited. The rustic now asked
+his son whether the Professor did not make money enough to procure a
+horse of his own, to which the son answered: "Certainly not. His salary
+is but one hundred and twenty-five dollars, and his further gains are
+inconsiderable. His Lectures on Morals he gives publicly, i.e., gratis,
+and he has hundreds of hearers; and, therefore, at his own lectures,
+which must be paid for, he has so many the fewer. To be sure, he has now
+and then presents from grand patrons; but no one gives him, once and for
+all, enough to live upon, and to have all over with a single
+acknowledgment."
+
+Our friend Christopher started as he heard this; he had quite made up
+his mind to take Gellert the wood: but he had yet to do it. How easy
+were virtue, if will and deed were the same thing! if performance could
+immediately succeed to the moment off burning enthusiasm! But one must
+make way over obstacles; over those that outwardly lie in one's path,
+and over those that are hidden deep in the heart; and negligence has a
+thousand very cunning advocates.
+
+How many go forth, prompted by good intentions, but let little
+hindrances turn them from their way--entirely from their way of life!
+In front of the house Christopher met other woodmen whom he knew,
+and--"You are stirring betimes!" "Prices are good to-day!" "But little
+comes to the market now!" was the cry from all sides. Christopher wanted
+to say that all that didn't concern him, but he was ashamed to confess
+that his design was, and an inward voice told him he must not lie.
+Without answering he joined the rest, and wended his way to the market;
+and on the road he thought: "There are Peter, and Godfrey, and John, who
+have seven times your means, and not one of them, I'm sure, would think
+of doing anything of this kind; why will you be the kind-hearted fool?
+Stay! what matters it what others do or leave undone? Every man shall
+answer for himself. Yes, but go to market--it is better it should be so;
+yes, certainly, much better: sell your wood--who knows? perhaps he
+doesn't want it--and take him the proceeds, or at least the greater
+portion. But is the wood still yours? You have, properly speaking,
+already given it away; it has only not been taken from your keeping...."
+
+There are people who cannot give; they can only let a thing be taken
+either by the hand of chance, or by urgency and entreaty. Christopher
+had such fast hold of possession, that it was only after sore wrestling
+that he let go; and yet his heart was kind, at least to-day it was so
+disposed, but the tempter whispered: "It is not easy to find so
+good-natured a fellow as you. How readily would you have given, had the
+man been in want, and your good intention must go for the deed." Still,
+on the other hand, there was something in him which made opposition,--an
+echo from those hours, when, in the still night, he was driving
+hither,--and it burned in him like sacred fire, and it said, "You must
+now accomplish what you intended. Certainly no one knows of it, and you
+are responsible to no one; but you know of it yourself, and One above
+you knows, and how shall you be justified?" And he said to himself,
+"I'll stand by this: look, it is just nine; if no one ask the price of
+your wood until ten o'clock, until the stroke of ten,--until it has done
+striking, I mean; if no one ask, then the wood belongs to Professor
+Gellert: but if a buyer come, then it is a sign that you need
+not--should not give it away. There, that's all settled. But how? what
+means this? Can you make your good deed dependent on such a chance as
+this? No, no; I don't mean it. But yet--yet--only for a joke, I'll try
+it."
+
+Temptation kept him turning as it were in a circle, and still he stood
+with an apparently quiet heart by his wagon in the market. The people
+who heard him muttering in this way to himself looked at him with
+wonder, and passed by him to another wagon, as though he had not been
+there. It struck nine. Can you wait patiently another hour? Christopher
+lighted his pipe, and looked calmly on, while this and that load was
+driven off. It struck the quarter, half-hour, three-quarters.
+Christopher now put his pipe in his pocket; it had long been cold, and
+his hands were almost frozen; all his blood had rushed to his heart. Now
+it struck the full hour, stroke after stroke. At first he counted; then
+he fancied he had lost a stroke and miscalculated. Either voluntarily
+or involuntarily, he said to himself, when it had finished striking,
+"You're wrong; it is nine, not ten." He turned round that he might not
+see the dial, and thus he stood for some time, with his hands upon the
+wagon-rack, gazing at the wood. He knew not how long he had been thus
+standing, when some one tapped him on the shoulder, and said, "How much
+for the load of wood?"
+
+Christopher turned round: there was an odd look of irresolution in his
+eyes as he said: "Eh? eh? what time is it?"
+
+"Half-past ten."
+
+"Then the wood is now no longer mine--at least to sell:" and, collecting
+himself, he became suddenly warm, and with firm hand turned his horses
+round, and begged the woodmen who accompanied him to point him out the
+way to the house with the "Schwarz Brett," Dr. Junius's. There he
+delivered a full load: at each log he took out of the wagon he smiled
+oddly. The wood-measurer measured the wood carefully, turning each log
+and placing it exactly, that there might not be a crevice anywhere.
+
+"Why are you so over-particular to-day, pray?" asked Christopher, and
+he received for answer:
+
+"Professor Gellert must have a fair load; every shaving kept back from
+him were a sin."
+
+Christopher laughed aloud, and the wood-measurer looked at him with
+amazement; for such particularity generally provoked a quarrel.
+Christopher had still some logs over; these he kept by him on the wagon.
+At this moment the servant Sauer came up, and asked to whom the wood
+belonged.
+
+"To Professor Gellert," answered Christopher.
+
+"The man's mad! it isn't true. Professor Gellert has not bought any
+wood; it is my business to look after that."
+
+"He has not bought it, and yet it is his!" cried Christopher.
+
+Sauer was on the point of giving the mad peasant a hearty scolding,
+raising his voice so much the louder, as it was striking eleven by St.
+Nicholas. At this moment, however, he became suddenly mute; for yonder
+from the University there came, with tired gait, a man of a noble
+countenance: at every step he made, on this side and on that, off came
+the hats and the caps of the passers-by, and Sauer simply called out,
+"There comes the Professor himself."
+
+What a peculiar expression passed over Christopher's face! He looked at
+the new-comer, and so earnest was his gaze, that Gellert, who always
+walked with his head bowed, suddenly looked up. Christopher said: "Mr.
+Gellert, I am glad to see you still alive."
+
+"I thank you," said Gellert, and made as though he would pass on; but
+Christopher stepped up closer to him, and, stretching out his hand to
+him, said: "I have taken the liberty--I should like--will you give me
+your hand, Mr. Gellert?"
+
+Gellert drew his long thin hand out of his muff and placed it in the
+hard oaken-like hand of the peasant; and at this moment, when the
+peasant's hand lay in the scholar's palm, as one felt the other's
+pressure in actual living grasp, there took place, though the mortal
+actors in the scene were all unconscious of it, a renewal of that
+healthy life which alone can make a people one.
+
+How long had the learned world, wrapped up in itself, separated from the
+fellow-men around, thought in Latin, felt as foreigners, and lived
+buried in contemplation of bygone worlds! From the time of Gellert
+commences the ever-increasing unity of good-fellowship throughout all
+classes of life, kept up by mutual giving and receiving. As the
+scholar--as the solitary poet endeavors to work upon others by lays that
+quicken and songs that incite, so he in his turn is a debtor to his age,
+and the lonely thinking and writing become the property of all; but the
+effects are not seen in a moment; for higher than the most highly gifted
+spirit of any single man is the spirit of a nation. With the pressure
+which Gellert and the peasant exchanged commenced a mighty change in
+universal life, which never more can cease to act.
+
+"Permit me to enter your room?" said Christopher, and Gellert nodded
+assent. He was so courteous that he motioned to the peasant to enter
+first; however, Sauer went close after him: he thought it must be a
+madman; he must protect his master; the man looked just as if he were
+drunk. Gellert, with his amanuensis, Godike, followed them.
+
+Gellert, however, felt that the man must be actuated by pure motives:
+he bade the others retire, and took Christopher alone into his study;
+and, as he clasped his left with his own right hand, he asked: "Well,
+my good friend, what is your business?"
+
+"Eh? oh! nothing--I've only brought you a load of wood there--a fair,
+full load; however, I'll give you the few logs which I have in my wagon,
+as well."
+
+"My good man, my servant Sauer looks after buying my wood."
+
+"It is no question of buying. No, my dear sir, I give it to you."
+
+"Give it to me? Why me particularly?"
+
+"Oh! sir, you do not know at all what good you do, what good you have
+done me; and my wife was right; why should there not be really pious men
+in our day too? Surely the sun still shines as he shone thousands of
+years ago; all is now the same as then; and the God of old is still
+living."
+
+"Certainly, certainly; I am glad to see you so pious."
+
+"Ah! believe me, dear sir, I am not always so pious; and that I am so
+disposed today is owing to you. We have no more confessionals now, but
+I can confess to you: and you have taken a heavier load from my heart
+than a wagon-load of wood. Oh! sir, I am not what I was. In my early
+days I was a high-spirited, merry lad, and out in the field, and indoors
+in the inn and the spinning-room, there was none who could sing against
+me; but that is long past. What has a man on whose head the
+grave-blossoms are growing," and he pointed to his gray head, "to do
+with all that trash? And besides, the Seven Years' War has put a stop
+to all our singing. But last night, in the midst of the fearful cold,
+I sang a lay set expressly for me--all old tunes go to it: and it seemed
+to me as though I saw a sign-post which pointed I know not whither--or,
+nay, I do know whither." And now the peasant related how discontented
+and unhappy in mind he had been, and how the words in the lay had all
+at once raised his spirits and accompanied him upon the journey, like
+a good fellow who talks to one cheerfully.
+
+At this part of the peasant's tale Gellert folded his hands in silence,
+and the peasant concluded: "How I always envied others, I cannot now
+think why; but you I do envy, sir: I should like to be as you."
+
+And Gellert answered: "I thank God, and rejoice greatly that my writings
+have been of service to you. Think not so well of me. Would God I were
+really the good man I appear in your eyes! I am far from being such as
+I should, such as I would fain be. I write my books for my own
+improvement also, to show myself as well as others what manner of men
+we should be."
+
+Laughing, the peasant replied: "You put me in mind of the story my poor
+mother used to tell of the old minister; he stood up once in the pulpit
+and said: 'My dear friends, I speak not only for you, but for myself
+also; I, too, have need of it.'"
+
+Christopher laughed outrageously when he had finished, and Gellert
+smiled, and said: "Yes, whoever in the darkness lighteth another with
+a lamp, lighteth himself also; and the light is not part of
+ourselves,--it is put into our hands by Him who hath appointed the suns
+their courses."
+
+The peasant stood speechless, and looked upon the ground: there was
+something within him which took away the power of looking up; he was
+only conscious that it ill became him to laugh so loudly just now, when
+he told the story of the old minister.
+
+A longer pause ensued, and Gellert seemed to be lost in reflection upon
+this reference to a minister's work, for he said half to himself: "Oh!
+how would it fulfil my dearest wish to be a village-pastor! To move
+about among my people, and really be one with them; the friend of their
+souls my whole life long, never to lose them out of my sight! Yonder
+goes one whom I have led into the right way; there another, with whom
+I still wrestle, but whom I shall assuredly save; and in them all the
+teaching lives which God proclaims by me. Did I not think that I should
+be acting against my duty, I would this moment choose a country life for
+the remnant of my days. When I look from my window over the country, I
+have before me the broad sky, of which we citizens know but little, a
+scene entirely new; there I stand and lose myself for half an hour in
+gazing and in thinking. Yes, good friend, envy no man in the rank of
+scholars. Look at me; I am almost always ill; and what a burden is a
+sickly body! How strong, on the contrary, are you! I am never happier
+than when, without being remarked, I can watch a dinner-table thronged
+by hungry men and maids. Even if these folks be not generally so happy
+as their superiors, at table they are certainly happier."
+
+"Yes, sir; we relish our eating and drinking. And, lately, when felling
+and sorting that wood below, I was more than usually lively; it seems
+as though I had a notion I was to do some good with it."
+
+"And must I permit you to make me a present?" asked Gellert, resting his
+chin upon his left hand.
+
+The peasant answered: "It is not worth talking about."
+
+"Nay, it might be well worth talking about; but I accept your present.
+It is pride not to be ready to accept a gift. Is not all we have a gift
+from God? And what one man gives another, he gives, as is most
+appropriately said, for God's sake. Were I your minister, I should be
+pleased to accept a present from you. You see, good friend, we men have
+no occasion to thank each other. You have given me nothing of yours, and
+I have given you nothing of mine. That the trees grow in the forest is
+none of your doing, it is the work of the Creator and Preserver of the
+world; and the soil is not yours; and the sun and the rain are not
+yours; they all are the works of His hand; and if, perchance, I have
+some healthy thoughts rising up in my soul, which benefit my fellow-men,
+it is none of mine, it is His doing. The word is not mine, and the
+spirit is not mine; and I am but an instrument in His hand. Therefore
+one man needs not to utter words of thanks to his fellow, if every one
+would but acknowledge who it really is that gives."
+
+The peasant looked up in astonishment. Gellert remarked it, and said:
+"Understand me aright. I thank you from my heart; you have done a kind
+action. But that the trees grow is none of yours, and it is none of mine
+that thoughts arise in me; every one simply tills his field, and tends
+his woodland, and the honest, assiduous toil he gives thereto is his
+virtue. That you felled, loaded, and brought the wood, and wish no
+recompense for your labor, is very thank-worthy. My wood was more
+easily felled; but those still nights which I and all of my calling pass
+in heavy thought--who can tell what toil there is in them? There is in
+the world an adjustment which no one sees, and which but seldom
+discovers itself; and this and that shift thither and hither, and the
+scales of the balance become even, and then ceases all distinction
+between 'mine' and 'thine,' and in the still forest rings an axe for me,
+and in the silent night my spirit thinks and my pen writes for you."
+
+The peasant passed both his hands over his temples, and his look was as
+though he said to himself, "Where are you? Are you still in the world?
+Is it a mortal man who speaks to you? Are you in Leipzig, in that
+populous city where men jostle one another for gain and bare existence?"
+
+Below might be heard the creaking of the saw as the wood was being
+sundered: and now the near horse neighs, and Christopher is in the world
+again. "It may injure the horse to stand so long in the cold; and no
+money for the wood! but perhaps a sick horse to take home into the
+bargain; that would be too much," he thought.
+
+"Yes, yes, Mr. Professor," said he--he had his hat under his arm, and
+was rubbing his hands--"yes, I am delighted with what I have done; and
+I value the lesson, believe me, more than ten loads of wood: and never
+shall I forget you to my dying day. And though I see you are not so poor
+as I had imagined, still I don't regret it. Oh! no, certainly not at
+all."
+
+"Eh! did you think me so very poor, then?"
+
+"Yes, miserably poor."
+
+"I have always been poor, but God has never suffered me to be a single
+day without necessaries. I have in the world much happiness which I have
+not deserved, and much unhappiness I have not, which perchance I have
+deserved. I have found much favor with both high and low, for which I
+cannot sufficiently thank God. And now tell me, cannot I give you
+something, or obtain something for you? You are a local magistrate, I
+presume?"
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"You look like it: you might be."
+
+Christopher had taken his hat into his hands, and was crumpling it up
+now; he half closed his eyes, and with a sly, inquiring glance, he
+peered at Gellert. Suddenly, however, the expression of his face
+changed, and the muscles quivered, as he said: "Sir, what a man are you!
+How you can dive into the recesses of one's heart! I have really pined
+night and day, and been cross with the whole world, because I could not
+be magistrate, and you, sir, you have actually helped to overcome that
+in me. Oh! sir, as soon as I read that verse in your book, I had an
+idea, and now I see still more plainly that you must be a man of God,
+who can pluck the heart from one's bosom, and turn it round and round.
+I had thought I could never have another moment's happiness, if my
+neighbor, Hans Gottlieb, should be magistrate: and with that verse of
+yours, it has been with me as when one calms the blood with a magic
+spell."
+
+"Well, my good friend, I am rejoiced to hear it: believe me, every one
+has in himself alone a whole host to govern. What can so strongly urge
+men to wish to govern others? What can it profit you to be local
+magistrate, when to accomplish your object you must perhaps do something
+wrong? What were the fame, not only of a village, but even of the whole
+world, if you could have no self-respect? Let it suffice for you to
+perform your daily duties with uprightness; let your joys be centred in
+your wife and children, and you will be happy. What need you more? Think
+not that honor and station would make you happy. Rejoice, and again I
+say, rejoice: 'A contented spirit is a continual feast.' I often whisper
+this to myself, when I feel disposed to give way to dejection: and
+although misery be not our fault, yet lack of endurance and of patience
+in misery is undoubtedly our fault."
+
+"I would my wife were here too, that she also might hear this; I grudge
+myself the hearing of it all alone; I cannot remember it all properly,
+and yet I should like to tell it to her word for word. Who would have
+thought that, by standing upon a load of wood, one could get a peep into
+heaven!"
+
+Gellert in silence bowed his head; and afterwards he said: "Yes, rejoice
+in your deed, as I do in your gift. Your wood is sacrificial-wood. In
+olden time--and it was right in principle, because man could not yet
+offer prayer and thanks in spirit--it was a custom and ordinance to
+bring something from one's possessions, as a proof of devotion: this was
+a sacrifice. And the more important the gift to be given, or the request
+to be granted, the more costly was the sacrifice. Our God will have no
+victims; but whatsoever you do unto one of the least of His, you do unto
+Him. Such are our sacrifices. My dear friend, from my heart I thank you;
+for you have done me a kindness, in that you have given me a real,
+undeniable proof, that my words have penetrated your heart, and that I
+do not live on for nothing: and treasure it up in your heart, that you
+have caused real joy to one who is often, very often, weighed down with
+heaviness and sorrow. You have not only kindled bright tapers upon my
+Christmas-tree, but the tree itself burns, gives light, and warms: the
+bush burns, and is not consumed, which is an image of the presence of
+the Holy Spirit, and its admonition to trust in the Most High in this
+wilderness of life, in mourning and in woe. Oh! my dear friend, I have
+been nigh unto death. What a solemn, quaking stride is the stride into
+eternity! What a difference between ideas of death in the days of
+health, and on the brink of the grave! And how shall I show myself
+worthy of longer life? By learning better to die. And, mark, when I sit
+here in solitude pursuing my thoughts, keeping some and driving away
+others, then I can think, that in distant valleys, upon distant
+mountains, there are living men who carry my thoughts within their
+hearts; and for them I live, and they are near and dear to me, till one
+day we shall meet where there is no more parting, no more separation.
+Peasant and scholar, let us abide as we are. Give me your hand--farewell!"
+
+And once again, the soft and the hard hand were clasped together, and
+Christopher really trembled as Gellert laid his hand upon his shoulder.
+They shook hands, and therewith something touched the heart of each more
+impressively, more completely, than ever words could touch it.
+Christopher got downstairs without knowing how: below, he threw down the
+extra logs of wood, which he had kept back, with a clatter from the
+wagon, and then drove briskly from the city. Not till he arrived at
+Lindenthal did he allow himself and his horses rest or food. He had
+driven away empty: he had nothing on his wagon, nothing in his purse;
+and yet who can tell what treasures he took home; and who can tell what
+inextinguishable fire he left behind him yonder, by that lonely scholar!
+
+Gellert, who usually dined at his brother's, today had dinner brought
+into his own room, remained quite alone, and did not go out again: he
+had experienced quite enough excitement, and society he had in his own
+thoughts. Oh! to find that there are open, susceptible hearts, is a
+blessing to him that writes in solitude, and is as wondrous to him as
+though he dipped his pen in streams of sunshine, and as if all he wrote
+were Light. The raindrop which falls from the cloud cannot tell upon
+what plant it drops: there is a quickening power in it, but for what?
+And a thought which finds expression from a human heart; an action, nay,
+a whole life is like the raindrop falling from the cloud: the whole
+period of a life endures no longer than the raindrop needs for falling.
+And as for knowing where your life is continued, how your work proceeds,
+you cannot attain to that.
+
+And in the night all was still around: nothing was astir; the whole
+earth was simple rest, as Gellert sat in his room by his lonely lamp;
+his hand lay upon an open book, and his eyes were fixed upon the empty
+air; and on a sudden came once more upon him that melancholy gloom,
+which so easily resumes its place after more than usual excitement.
+
+It is as though the soul, suddenly elevated above all, must still
+remember the heaviness it but now experienced, though that expresses
+itself as tears of joy in the eye.
+
+In Gellert, however, this melancholy had a more peculiar phase: a sort
+of timidity had rooted itself in him, connected with his weak chest, and
+that secret gnawing pain in his head; it was a fearfulness which his
+manner of life only tended to increase. Surrounded though he was by
+nothing but love and admiration in the world, he could not divest
+himself of the fear that all which is most horrible and terrible would
+burst suddenly upon him: and so he gazed fixedly before him. He passed
+his hand over his face, and with an effort concentrated his looks and
+thoughts upon surrounding objects, saying to himself almost aloud: "How
+comforting is light! Were there no light from without to illumine
+objects for us, we should perish in gloom, in the shadows of night. And
+light is a gentle friend that watches by us, and, when we are sunk in
+sorrow, points out to us that the world is still here, that it calls,
+and beckons us, and requires of us duty and cheerfulness. 'You must not
+be lost in self,' it says, 'see! the world is still here:' and a friend
+beside us is as a light which illumines surrounding objects; we cannot
+forget them, we must see them and mingle with them. How hard is life,
+and how little I accomplish! I would fain awaken the whole world to
+goodness and to love; but my voice is weak, my strength is insufficient:
+how insignificant is all I do!"
+
+And now he rose up and strode across the room; and he stood at the
+hearth where the fire was burning, made of wood given to him that very
+day, and his thoughts reverted to the man who had given it. Why had he
+not asked his name, and where he came from? Perchance he might have been
+able in thought to follow him all the way, as he drove home; and now ...
+but yet 'tis more, 'tis better as it is: it is not an individual, it is
+not So-and-so, who has shown his gratitude, but all the world by the
+mouth of one. "The kindnesses I receive," he thought, "are indeed
+trials; but yet I ought to accept them with thanks. I will try
+henceforth to be a benefactor to others as others are to me, without
+display, and with grateful thanks to God, our highest Benefactor: this
+will I do, and search no further for the why and for the wherefore." And
+once more a voice spoke within him, and he stood erect, and raised his
+arms on high. "Who knows," he thought, "whether at this moment I have
+not been in this or that place, to this or that man, a brother, a
+friend, a comforter, a saviour; and from house to house, may be, my
+spirit travels, awakening, enlivening, refreshing--yonder in the attic,
+where burns a solitary light; and afar in some village a mother is
+sitting by her child, and hearing him repeat the thoughts I have
+arranged in verse; and peradventure some solitary old man, who is
+waiting for death, is now sitting by his fireside, and his lips are
+uttering my words."
+
+"And yonder in the church, the choir is chanting a hymn of yours; could
+you have written this hymn without its vigor in your heart? Oh! no, it
+MUST be there." And with trembling he thought: "There is nothing so
+small as to have no place in the government of God! Should you not then
+believe that He suffered this day's incident to happen for your joy? Oh!
+were it so, what happiness were yours! A heart renewed." ... He moved
+to the window, looked up to heaven, and prayed inwardly: "My soul is
+with my brothers and my sisters: nay, it is with Thee, my God, and in
+humility I acknowledge how richly Thou hast blessed me. And if, in the
+kingdom of the world to come, a soul should cry to me: 'Thou didst guide
+and cheer me on to happiness eternal!' all hail! my friend, my
+benefactor, my glory in the presence of God. ... In these thoughts let
+me die, and pardon me my weakness and my sins!"
+
+"And the evening and morning were the first day."
+
+At early morning, Gellert was sitting at his table, and reading
+according to his invariable custom, first of all in the Bible. He never
+left the Bible open--he always shut it with a peaceful, devotional air,
+after he had read therein: there was something grateful as well as
+reverential in his manner of closing the volume; the holy words should
+not lie uncovered.
+
+To-day, however, the Bible was lying open when he rose. His eye fell
+upon the history of the creation, and at the words, "And the evening and
+the morning were the first day," he leaned back his head against the
+arm-chair, and kept his hand upon the book, as though he would grasp
+with his hand also the lofty thought, how night and day were divided.
+
+For a long while he sat thus, and he was wondrously bright in spirit,
+and a soft reminiscence dawned upon him; of a bright day in childhood,
+when he had been so happy, and in Haynichen, his native place, had gone
+out with his father for a walk. An inward warmth roused his heart to
+quicker pulsation; and suddenly he started and looked about him: he had
+been humming a tune.
+
+Up from the street came the busy sound of Jay: at other times how
+insufferable he had found it! and now how joyous it seemed that men
+should bestir themselves, and turn to all sorts of occupations! There
+was a sound of crumbling snow: and how nice to have a house and a blaze
+upon the hearth! "And the evening and the morning were the first day!"
+And man getteth himself a light in the darkness: but how long, O man!
+could you make it endure? What could you do with your artificial light,
+if God did not cause His sun to shine? Without it grows no grass, no
+corn. On the hand lying upon the book there fell a bright sunbeam. How
+soon, at other times, would Gellert have drawn the defensive curtain!
+Now he watches the little motes that play about in the sunbeam.
+
+The servant brought coffee, and the amanuensis, Godike, asked if there
+were anything to do. Generally, Gellert scarce lifted his head from his
+books, hastily acknowledging the attention and reading on in silence;
+to-day, he motioned to Godike to stay, and said to Sauer, "Another cup:
+Mr. Godike will take coffee with me. God has given me a day of
+rejoicing." Sauer brought the cup, and Gellert said: "Yes, God has given
+me a day of rejoicing, and what I am most thankful for is, that He has
+granted me strength to thank Him with all my heart: not so entirely,
+however, as I should like."
+
+"Thank God, Mr. Professor, that you are once more in health, and
+cheerful: and permit me, Mr. Professor, to tell you that I was myself
+also ill a short time ago, and I then learned a lesson which I shall
+never forget. Who is most grateful? The convalescent. He learns to love
+God and His beautiful world anew; he is grateful for everything, and
+delighted with everything. What a flavor has his first cup of coffee!
+How he enjoys his first walk outside the house, outside the gate! The
+houses, the trees, all give us greeting: all is again in us full of
+health and joy!" So said Godike, and Gellert rejoined:
+
+"You are a good creature, and have just spoken good words. Certainly,
+the convalescent is the most grateful. We are, however, for the most
+part, sick in spirit, and have not strength to recover: and a sickly,
+stricken spirit is the heaviest pain."
+
+Long time the two sat quietly together: it struck eight. Gellert started
+up, and cried irritably: "There, now, you have allowed me to forget that
+I must be on my way to the University."
+
+"The vacation has begun: Mr. Professor has no lecture to-day."
+
+"No lecture to-day? Ah! and I believe today is just the time when I
+could have told my young friends something that would have benefited
+them for their whole lives."
+
+There was a shuffling of many feet outside the door: the door opened,
+and several boys from St Thomas' School-choir advanced and sang to
+Gellert some of his own hymns; and as they chanted the verse--
+
+    "And haply there--oh! grant it, Heaven!
+      Some blessed saint will greet me too;
+    'All hail! all hail! to you was given
+      To save my life and soul, to you!'
+     O God! my God! what joy to be
+      The winner of a soul to thee!"
+
+Gellert wept aloud, folded his hands, and raised his eyes to heaven.
+
+A happier Christmas than that of 1768 had Gellert never seen; and it was
+his last. Scarcely a year after, on the 13th of December, 1769, Gellert
+died a pious, tranquil death, such as he had ever coveted.
+
+As the long train which followed his bier moved to the churchyard of St.
+John's, Leipzig, a peasant with his wife and children in holiday clothes
+entered among the last. It was Christopher with his family. The whole
+way he had been silent: and whilst his wife wept passionately at the
+pastor's touching address, it was only by the working of his features
+that Christopher showed how deeply moved he was.
+
+But on the way home he said: "I am glad I did him a kindness in his
+lifetime; it would now be too late."
+
+The summer after, when he built a new house, he had this verse placed
+upon it as an inscription:
+
+    "Accept God's gifts with resignation,
+      Content to lack what thou hast not:
+     In every lot there's consolation;
+      There's trouble, too, in every lot."
+
+
+
+
+A GHETTO VIOLET
+
+BY
+
+LEOPOLD KOMPERT
+
+
+From "Christian and Leah." Translated by A.S. Arnold.
+
+
+Through the open window came the clear trill of a canary singing
+blithely in its cage. Within the tidy, homely little room a pale-faced
+girl and a youth of slender frame listened intently while the bird sang
+its song. The girl was the first to break the silence.
+
+"Ephraim, my brother!" she said.
+
+"What is it, dear Viola?"
+
+"I wonder does the birdie know that it is the Sabbath to-day?"
+
+"What a child you are!" answered Ephraim.
+
+"Yes, that's always the way; when you clever men can't explain a thing,
+you simply dismiss the question by calling it childish," Viola
+exclaimed, as though quite angry. "And, pray, why shouldn't the bird
+know? The whole week it scarcely sang a note: to-day it warbles and
+warbles so that it makes my head ache. And what's the reason? Every
+Sabbath it's just the same, I notice it regularly. Shall I tell you what
+my idea is?
+
+"The whole week long the little bird looks into our room and sees
+nothing but the humdrum of work-a-day life. To-day it sees the bright
+rays of the Sabbath lamp and the white Sabbath cloth upon the table.
+Don't you think I'm right, Ephraim?"
+
+"Wait, dear Viola," said Ephraim, and he went to the cage.
+
+The bird's song suddenly ceased.
+
+"Now you've spoilt its Sabbath!" cried the girl, and she was so excited
+that the book which had been lying upon her lap fell to the ground.
+
+Ephraim turned towards her; he looked at her solemnly, and said quietly:
+
+"Pick up your prayer-book first, and then I'll answer. A holy book
+should not be on the ground like that. Had our mother dropped her
+prayer-book, she would have kissed it ... Kiss it, Viola, my child!"
+
+Viola did so.
+
+"And now I'll tell you, dear Viola, what I think is the reason why the
+bird sings so blithely to-day ... Of course, I don't say I'm right."
+
+Viola's brown eyes were fixed inquiringly upon her brother's face.
+
+"How seriously you talk to-day," she said, making a feeble attempt at
+a  smile. "I was only joking. Mustn't I ask if the bird knows anything
+about the Sabbath?"
+
+"There are subjects it is sinful to joke about, and this may be one of
+them, Viola."
+
+"You really quite frighten me, Ephraim."
+
+"You little goose, I don't want to frighten you," said Ephraim, while
+a faint flush suffused his features. "I'll tell you my opinion about the
+singing of the bird. I think, dear Viola, that our little canary knows
+... that before long it will change its quarters."
+
+"You're surely not going to sell it or give it away?" cried the girl,
+in great alarm; and springing to her feet, she quickly drew her brother
+away from the cage.
+
+"No, I'm not going to sell it nor give it away," said Ephraim, whose
+quiet bearing contrasted strongly with his sister's excitement. "Is it
+likely that I should do anything that would give you pain? And yet, I
+have but to say one word ... and I'll wager that you will be the first
+to open the cage and say to the bird, 'Fly, fly away, birdie, fly away
+home!'"
+
+"Never, never!" cried the girl.
+
+"Viola," said Ephraim beseechingly, "I have taken a vow. Surely you
+would not have me break it?"
+
+"A vow?" asked his sister.
+
+"Viola," Ephraim continued, as he bent his head down to the girl's face,
+"I have vowed to myself that whenever he ... our father ... should
+return, I would give our little bird its freedom. It shall be free, free
+as he will be."
+
+"Ephraim!"
+
+"He is coming--he is already on his way home."
+
+Viola flung her arms round her brother's neck. For a long time brother
+and sister remained locked in a close embrace.
+
+Meanwhile the bird resumed its jubilant song.
+
+"Do you hear how it sings again?" said Ephraim; and he gently stroked
+his sister's hair.
+
+"It knows that it will soon be free."
+
+"A father out of jail!" sobbed Viola, as she released herself from her
+brother's arms.
+
+"He has had his punishment, dear Viola!" said Ephraim softly.
+
+Viola turned away. There was a painful silence, and then she looked up
+at her brother again. Her face was aglow, her eyes sparkled with a
+strange fire; she was trembling with agitation. Never before had Ephraim
+seen her thus.
+
+"Ephraim, my brother," she commenced, in that measured monotone so
+peculiar to intense emotion, "with the bird you can do as you please.
+You can set it free, or, if you like, you can wring its neck. But as for
+him, I'll never look in his face again, from me he shall not have a word
+of welcome. He broke our mother's heart ... our good, good mother; he
+has dishonored himself and us. And I can never forget it."
+
+"Is it right for a child to talk like that of her own father?" said
+Ephraim in a tremulous voice.
+
+"When a child has good cause to be ashamed of her own father!" cried
+Viola.
+
+"Oh, my Viola, you must have forgotten dear mother's dying words. Don't
+you remember, as she opened her eyes for the last time, how she gathered
+up her failing strength, and raising herself in her bed, 'Children,' she
+said, 'my memory will protect you both, yea, and your father too.'
+Viola, have you forgotten?"
+
+Had you entered that little room an hour later, a touching sight would
+have met your eyes. Viola was seated on her brother's knee, her arms
+round his neck, whilst Ephraim with the gentle love of a brother for a
+younger sister, was stroking her hair, and whispering in her ear sweet
+words of solace.
+
+The bird-cage was empty. ... That evening Ephraim sat up till midnight.
+Outside in the Ghetto reigned the stillness of night.
+
+All at once Ephraim rose from his chair, walked to the old bureau which
+stood near the door, opened it, and took from it a bulky volume, which
+he laid upon the table in front of him. But he did not seem at all bent
+upon reading. He began fingering the pages, until he came upon a bundle
+of bank-notes, and these he proceeded to count, with a whispering
+movement of his lips. He had but three or four more notes still to
+count, when his sharp ear detected the sound of stealthy footsteps, in
+the little courtyard in front of the house. Closing the book, and
+hastily putting it back again in the old bureau, Ephraim sprang to the
+window and opened it.
+
+"Is that you, father?" he cried.
+
+There was no answer.
+
+Ephraim repeated his question.
+
+He strained his eyes, peering into the dense darkness, but no living
+thing could he see. Then quite close to him a voice cried: "Make no
+noise ... and first put out the light."
+
+"Heavens! Father, it is you then...!" Ephraim exclaimed.
+
+"Hush!" came in a whisper from without, "first put out the light."
+
+Ephraim closed the window, and extinguished the light. Then, with almost
+inaudible step, he walked out of the room into the dark passage;
+noiselessly he proceeded to unbolt the street-door. Almost at the same
+moment a heavy hand clasped his own.
+
+"Father, father!" Ephraim cried, trying to raise his parent's hand to
+his lips.
+
+"Make no noise," the man repeated, in a somewhat commanding tone.
+
+With his father's hand in his, cautiously feeling his way, Ephraim led
+him into the room. In the room adjoining lay Viola, sleeping peacefully.
+...
+
+Time was when "Wild" Ascher's welcome home had been far otherwise.
+Eighteen years before, upon that very threshold which he now crossed
+with halting, stealthy steps, as of a thief in the night, stood a fair
+and loving wife, holding a sturdy lad aloft in her arms, so that the
+father might at once see, as he turned the street corner, that wife and
+child were well and happy. Not another Ghetto in all Bohemia could show
+a handsomer and happier couple than Ascher and his wife. "Wild" Ascher
+was one of those intrepid, venturesome spirits, to whom no obstacle is
+so great that it cannot be surmounted. And the success which crowned his
+long, persistent wooing was often cited as striking testimony to his
+indomitable will. Gudule was famous throughout the Ghetto as "the girl
+with the wonderful eyes," eyes--so the saying ran--into which no man
+could look and think of evil. During the earlier years of their married
+life those unfathomable brown eyes exercised on Ascher the full power
+of their fascination. A time came, however, when he alleged that those
+very eyes had been the cause of all his ruin.
+
+Gudule's birthplace was far removed from the Ghetto, where Ascher had
+first seen the light. Her father was a wealthy farmer in a secluded
+village in Lower Bohemia. But distant though it was from the nearest
+town of any importance, the solitary grange became the centre of
+attraction to all the young swains far and near. But there was none who
+found favor in Gudule's eyes save "Wild Ascher," in spite of many a
+friendly warning to beware of him. One day, just before the betrothal
+of the young people, an anonymous letter was delivered at the grange.
+The writer, who called himself an old friend, entreated the farmer to
+prevent his dear child from becoming the wife of one who was suspected
+of being a gambler. The farmer was of an easy-going, indulgent nature,
+shunning care and anxiety as a very plague. Accordingly, no sooner had
+he read the anonymous missive than he handed it to his daughter, as
+though its contents were no concern of his.
+
+When Gudule had read the letter to the end, she merely remarked:
+"Father, this concerns me, and nobody else."
+
+And so the matter dropped.
+
+Not until the wedding-day, half an hour before the ceremony, when the
+marriage canopy had already been erected in the courtyard, did the
+farmer sum up courage to revert to the warning of the unknown
+letter-writer. Taking his future son-in-law aside, he said:
+
+"Ascher, is it true that you gamble?"
+
+"Father," Ascher answered with equal firmness, "Gudule's eyes will save
+me!" Ascher had uttered no untruth when he gave his father-in-law this
+assurance. He spoke in all earnestness, for like every one else he knew
+the magnetic power of Gudule's eyes.
+
+Nowhere, probably, does the grim, consuming pestilence of gaming claim
+more victims than in the Ghetto. The ravages of drink and debauchery are
+slight indeed; but the tortuous streets can show too many a humble home
+haunted by the spectres of ruin and misery which stalked across the
+threshold when the FIRST CARD GAME was played.
+
+It was with almost feverish anxiety that the eyes of the Ghetto were
+fixed upon the development of a character like Ascher's; they followed
+his every step with the closest attention. Long experience had taught
+the Ghetto that no gambler could be trusted.
+
+As though conscious that all eyes were upon him, Ascher showed himself
+most punctilious in the discharge of even the minutest of communal
+duties which devolved upon him as a denizen of the Ghetto, and his
+habits of life were almost ostentatiously regular and decorous. His
+business had prospered, and Gudule had borne him a son.
+
+"Well, Gudule, my child," the farmer asked his daughter on the day when
+his grandson was received into the covenant of Abraham,--"well, Gudule,
+was the letter right?"
+
+"What letter?" asked Gudule.
+
+"That in which your husband was called a gambler."
+
+"And can you still give a thought to such a letter?" was Gudule's
+significant reply.
+
+Three years later, Gudule's father came to visit her. This time she
+showed him his second grandchild, her little Viola. He kissed the
+children, and round little Viola's neck clasped three rows of pearls,
+"that the child may know it had a grandfather once."
+
+"And where are your pearls, Gudule?" he asked, "those left you by your
+mother,--may she rest in peace! She always set such store by them."
+
+"Those, father?" Gudule replied, turning pale; "oh, my husband has taken
+them to a goldsmith in Prague. They require a new clasp."
+
+"I see," remarked her father. Notwithstanding his limited powers of
+observation, it did not escape the old man's eyes that Gudule looked
+alarmingly wan and emaciated. He saw it, and it grieved his very soul.
+He said nothing however: only, when leaving, and after he had kissed the
+Mezuza [Footnote: Small cylinder inclosing a roll of parchment inscribed
+with the Hebrew word Shadai (Almighty) and with other texts, which is
+affixed to the lintel of every Jewish house.], he said to Gudule (who,
+with little Viola in her arms, went with him to the door), in a voice
+quivering with suppressed emotion: "Gudule, my child, the pearl necklet
+which I have given your little Viola has a clasp strong enough to last
+a hundred years ... you need never, therefore, give it to your husband
+to have a new clasp made for it." And without bestowing another glance
+upon his child the easy-going man left the house. It was his last visit.
+Within the year Gudule received a letter from her eldest brother telling
+her that their father was dead, and that she would have to keep the week
+of mourning for him. Ever since his last visit to her--her brother
+wrote--the old man had been somewhat ailing, but knowing his vigorous
+constitution, they had paid little heed to his complaints. It was only
+during the last few weeks that a marked loss of strength had been
+noticed. This was followed by fever and delirium. Whenever he was asked
+whether he would not like to see Gudule, his only answer was: "She must
+not give away the clasp of little Viola's necklet." And but an hour
+before his death, he raised his voice, and loudly called for "the
+letter." Nobody knew what letter. "Gudule knows where it is," he said,
+with a gentle shake of his head. Those were the last words he spoke.
+
+Had the old man's eyes deceived him on the occasion of his last visit
+to his son-in-law's house? No! For, setting aside the incident of the
+missing pearls, the whole Ghetto could long since have told him that the
+warning of the anonymous letter was not unfounded--for Gudule was the
+wife of a gambler.
+
+With the resistless impetuosity of a torrent released from its prison
+of ice and snow, the old invincible disease had again overwhelmed its
+victim. Gudule noticed the first signs of it when one day her husband
+returned home from one of his business journeys earlier than he had
+arranged. Gudule had not expected him.
+
+"Why did you not come to meet me with the children?" he cried peevishly;
+"do you begrudge me even that pleasure?"
+
+"_I_ begrudge you a pleasure?" Gudule ventured to remark, as she raised
+her swimming eyes to his face.
+
+"Why do you look at me so tearfully?" he almost shouted.
+
+Ascher loved his wife, and when he saw the effect which his rough words
+had produced, he tenderly embraced her. "Am I not right, Gudule?" he
+said, "after a man has been working and slaving the livelong week, don't
+you think he looks forward with longing eyes for his dear children to
+welcome him at his door?"
+
+At that moment Gudule felt the long latent suspicion revive in her that
+her husband was not speaking the truth. As if written in characters of
+fire, the words of that letter now came back to her memory; she knew now
+what was the fate that awaited her and her children.
+
+Thenceforward, all the characteristic tokens of a gambler's life, all
+the vicissitudes which attend his unholy calling, followed close upon
+each other in grim succession. Most marked was the disturbance which his
+mental equilibrium was undergoing. Fits of gloomy despondency were
+succeeded, with alarming rapidity, by periods of tumultuous exaltation.
+One moment it would seem as though Gudule and the children were to him
+the living embodiment of all that was precious and lovable, whilst at
+other times he would regard them with sullen indifference. It soon
+became evident to Gudule that her husband's affairs were in a very bad
+way, for her house-keeping allowance no longer came to her with its
+wonted regularity. But what grieved and alarmed her most, was the fact
+that Ascher was openly neglecting every one of his religious duties. To
+return home late on Friday night, long after sunset had ushered in the
+Sabbath, was now a common practice. Once even it happened, that with his
+clothes covered with dust, he came home from one of his business tours
+on a Sabbath morning, when the people in holiday attire were wending
+their way to the synagogue.
+
+Nevertheless, not a sound of complaint escaped Gudule's lips. Hers was
+one of those proud, sensitive natures, such as are to be met with among
+all classes and amid all circumstances of life, in Ghetto and in
+secluded village, no less than among the most favored ones of the earth.
+Had she not cast to the winds the well-intentioned counsel given her in
+that unsigned letter? Why then should she complain and lament, now that
+the seed had borne fruit? She shrank from alluding before her husband
+to the passion which day by day, nay, hour by hour, tightened its hold
+upon him. She would have died sooner than permit the word "gambler" to
+pass her lips. Besides, did not her eyes tell Ascher what she suffered?
+Those very eyes were, according to Ascher, the cause of his rapid
+journey along the road to ruin.
+
+"Why do you look at me so, Gudule?" he would testily ask her, at the
+slightest provocation.
+
+Often when, as he explained, he had had "a specially good week," he
+would bring home the costliest gifts for his children. Gudule, however,
+made no use whatever of these trinkets, neither for herself nor for the
+children. She put the things away in drawers and cupboards, and never
+looked at them, more especially as she observed that, under some pretext
+or another, Ascher generally took those glittering things away again,
+"in order to exchange them for others," he said: as often as not never
+replacing them at all.
+
+"Gudule!" he said one day, when he happened to be in a particularly good
+humor, "why do you let the key remain in the door of that bureau where
+you keep so many valuables?"
+
+And again Gudule regarded him with those unfathomable eyes.
+
+"There, you're ... looking at me again!" he exclaimed with sudden
+vehemence.
+
+"They're safe enough in the cupboard," Gudule said, smiling, "why should
+I lock it?"
+
+"Gudule, do you mean to say ..." he cried, raising his hand as for a
+blow. Then he fell back in his chair, and his frame was shaken with
+sobs.
+
+"Gudule, my heart's love," he cried, "I am not worthy that your eyes
+should rest on me. Everywhere, wherever I go, they look at me, those
+eyes ... and that is my ruin. If business is bad, your eyes ask me, 'Why
+did you mix yourself up with these things, without a thought of wife or
+children?'... Then I feel as if some evil spirit possessed me and
+tortured my soul. Oh, why can't you look at me again as you did when you
+were my bride?--then you looked so happy, so lovely! At other times I
+think: 'I shall yet grasp fortune with both hands ... and then I can
+face my Gudule's eyes again.' But now, now ... oh, don't look at me,
+Gudule!"
+
+There spoke the self-reproaching voice, which sometimes burst forth
+unbidden from a suffering soul.
+
+As for Gudule, she already knew how to appreciate this cry of her
+husband's conscience at its true value. It was not that she felt one
+moment's doubt as to its sincerity, but she knew dot so far as it
+affected the future, it was a mere cry and nothing more.
+
+The years rolled on. The children were growing up. Ephraim had entered
+his fifteenth year. Viola was a little pale girl of twelve. In opinion
+of the Ghetto they were the most extraordinary children in the world.
+In the midst of the harassing life to which her marriage with the
+gambler had brought her, Gudule so reared them that they grew to be
+living reflections of her own inmost being. People wondered when they
+beheld the strange development of "Wild" Ascher's children.
+
+Their natures were as proud and reserved as that of their mother. They
+did not associate with the youth of the Ghetto; it seemed as though they
+were not of their kind, as though an insurmountable barrier divided
+them. And many a bitter sneer was hurled at Gudule's head.
+
+"Does she imagine," she often heard people whisper, "that because her
+father was a farmer her children are princes? Let her remember that her
+husband is but a common gambler."
+
+How different would have been their thoughts had they known that the
+children were Gudule's sole comfort. What their father had never heard
+from her, she poured into their youthful souls. No tear their mother
+shed was unobserved by them; they knew when their father had lost and
+when he had won; they knew, too, all the varying moods of his unhinged
+mind; and in this terrible school of misery they acquired an instinctive
+intelligence, which in the eyes of strangers seemed mere precocity.
+
+The two children, however, had early given evidence of a marked
+difference in disposition. Ephraim's nature was one of an almost
+feminine gentleness, whilst Viola was strong-willed and proudly
+reserved.
+
+"Mother," she said one day, "do you think he will continue to play much
+longer?"
+
+"Viola, how can you talk like that?" Ephraim cried, greatly disturbed.
+
+Thereupon Viola impetuously flung her arms round her mother's neck, and
+for some moments she clung to her with all the strength of her
+passionate nature. It was as though in that wild embrace she would fain
+pour forth the long pent-up sorrows of her blighted childhood.
+
+"Mother!" she cried, "you are so good to him. Never, never shall he have
+such kindness from me!"
+
+"Ephraim," said Gudule, "speak to your sister. In her sinful anger,
+Viola would revenge herself upon her own father. Does it so beseem a
+Jewish child?"
+
+"Why does he treat you so cruelly, then?" Viola almost hissed the words.
+
+Soon after fell the final crushing blow. Ascher had been away from home
+for some weeks, when one day Gudule received a letter, dated a prison
+in the neighborhood of Vienna. In words of genuine sympathy the writer
+explained that Ascher had been unfortunate enough to forge the signature
+to a bill. She would not see him again for the next five years. God
+comfort her! The letter was signed: "A fellow-sufferer with your
+husband."
+
+As it had been with her old father, after he had bidden her a last
+farewell, so it was now with Gudule. From that moment her days were
+numbered, and although not a murmur escaped her lips, hour by hour she
+wasted away.
+
+One Friday evening, shortly after the seven-branched Sabbath lamp had
+been lit, Gudule, seated in her arm-chair, out of which she had not
+moved all day, called the two children to her. A bright smile hovered
+around her lips, an unwonted fire burned in her still beautiful eyes,
+her bosom heaved ... in the eyes of her children she seemed strangely
+changed. "Children," said she, "come and stand by me. Ephraim, you stand
+here on my right, and you, dear Viola, on my left. I would like to tell
+you a little story, such as they tell little children to soothe them to
+sleep. Shall I?"
+
+"Mother!" they both cried, as they bent towards her.
+
+"You must not interrupt me, children," she observed, still with that
+strange smile on her lips, "but leave me to tell my little story in my
+own way.
+
+"Listen, children," she resumed, after a brief pause. "Every human
+being--be he ever so wicked--if he have done but a single good deed on
+earth, will, when he arrives above, in the seventh heaven, get his
+Sechus, that is to say, the memory of the good he has done here below
+will be remembered and rewarded bountifully by the Almighty." Gudule
+ceased speaking. Suddenly a change came over her features: her breath
+came and went in labored gasps; but her brown eyes still gleamed
+brightly.
+
+In tones well-nigh inaudible she continued: "When Jerusalem, the Holy
+City, was destroyed, the dead rose up out of their graves ... the holy
+patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ... and also Moses, and Aaron his
+brother ... and David the King ... and prostrating themselves before
+God's throne they sobbed: 'Dost Thou not remember the deeds we have
+done?... Wouldst Thou now utterly destroy all these our children, even
+to the innocent babe at the breast?' But the Almighty was inexorable.
+
+"Then Sarah, our mother, approached the Throne... When God beheld her,
+He covered His face, and wept. 'Go,' said He, 'I cannot listen to thee.'
+... But she exclaimed ... 'Dost Thou no longer remember the tears I shed
+before I gave birth to my Joseph and Benjamin ... and dost Thou not
+remember the day when they buried me yonder, on the borders of the
+Promised Land ... and now, must mine eyes behold the slaughter of my
+children, their disgrace, and their captivity?'... Then God cried: 'For
+THY sake will I remember thy children and spare them.' ..."
+
+"Would you like to know," Gudule suddenly cried, with uplifted voice,
+"what this Sechus is like? It has the form of an angel, and it stands
+near the Throne of the Almighty. ... But, since the days of Rachel, our
+mother, it is the Sechus of a mother that finds most favor in God's
+eyes. When a mother dies, her soul straightway soars heavenward, and
+there it takes its place amid the others.
+
+"'Who art thou?' asks God. 'I am the Sechus of a mother,' is the answer,
+'of a mother who has left children behind her on earth.' 'Then do thou
+stand here and keep guard over them!' says God. And when it is well with
+the children, it is the Sechus of a mother which has caused them to
+prosper, and when evil days befall them ... it is again the Angel who
+stands before God and pleads: 'Dost Thou forget that these children no
+longer have a mother?'... and the evil is averted. ..."
+
+Gudule's voice had sunk to a mere whisper. Her eyes closed, her head
+fell back, her breathing became slower and more labored. "Are you still
+there, children?" she softly whispered.
+
+Anxiously they bent over her. Then once again she opened her eyes.
+
+"I see you still"--the words came with difficulty from her blanched
+lips--"you, Ephraim, and you, my little Viola ... I am sure my Sechus
+will plead for you ... for you and your father." They were Gudule's last
+words. When her children, whose eyes had never as yet been confronted
+with Death, called her by her name, covering her icy hands with burning
+kisses, their mother was no more ...
+
+Who can tell what influence causes the downtrodden blade to raise itself
+once more! Is it the vivifying breath of the west wind, or a mysterious
+power sent forth from the bosom of Mother Earth? It was a touching sight
+to see how those two children, crushed as they were beneath the weight
+of a twofold blow, raised their heads again, and in their very
+desolation found new-born strength. And it filled the Ghetto with
+wonder. For what were they but the offspring of a gambler? Or was it the
+spirit of Gudule, their mother, that lived in them?
+
+After Gudule's death, her eldest brother, the then owner of the grange,
+came over to discuss the future of his sister's children. He wished
+Ephraim and Viola to go with him to his home in Lower Bohemia, where he
+could find them occupation. The children, however, were opposed to the
+idea. They had taken no previous counsel together, yet, upon this point,
+both were in perfect accord,--they would prefer to be left in their old
+home.
+
+"When father comes back again," said Ephraim, "he must know where to
+find us. But to you, Uncle Gabriel, he would never come."
+
+The uncle then insisted that Viola at least should accompany him, for
+he had daughters at home whom she could assist in their duties in the
+house and on the farm. But the child clung to Ephraim, and with flaming
+eyes, and in a voice of proud disdain, which filled the simple farmer
+with something like terror, she cried:
+
+"Uncle, you have enough to do to provide for your own daughters; don't
+let ME be an additional burden upon you; besides, sooner would I wander
+destitute through the world than be separated from my brother."
+
+"And what do you propose to do then?" exclaimed the uncle, after he had
+somewhat recovered from his astonishment at Viola's vehemence.
+
+"You see, Uncle Gabriel," said Ephraim, a sudden flush overspreading his
+grief-stricken features, "you see I have thought about it, and I have
+come to the conclusion that this is the best plan. Viola shall keep
+house, and I ... I'll start a business."
+
+"YOU start a business?" cried the uncle with a loud laugh. "Perhaps you
+can tell me what price I'll get for my oats next market day? A
+business!... and what business, my lad?"
+
+"Uncle," said Ephraim, "if I dispose of all that is left us, I shall
+have enough money to buy a small business. Others in our position have
+done the same... and then..."
+
+"Well, and then?" the uncle cried, eagerly anticipating his answer.
+
+"Then the Sechus of our mother will come to our aid." Ephraim said softly.
+
+The farmer's eyes grew dim with moisture; his sister had been very dear
+to him.
+
+"As I live!" he cried, brushing his hand across his eyes, "you are true
+children of my sister Gudule. That's all _I_ can say."
+
+Then, as though moved by a sudden impulse, he quickly produced, from the
+depths of his overcoat, a heavy pocketbook. "There!"... he cried,
+well-nigh out of breath, "there are a hundred gulden for you, Ephraim.
+With that you can, at all events, make a start; and then you needn't
+sell the few things you still have. There ... put the money away... oats
+haven't fetched any price at all to-day, 'tis true; but for the sake of
+Gudule's children, I don't mind what I do... Come, put it away,
+Ephraim... and may God bless you, and make you prosper."
+
+"Uncle!" cried Ephraim, as he raised the farmer's hand to his lips, "is
+all this to be mine? All this?"
+
+"Yes, my boy, yes; it IS a deal of money isn't it?" ... said Gudule's
+brother, accompanying his words with a sounding slap on his massive
+thigh. "I should rather think it is. With that you can do something, at
+all events ... and shall I tell you something? In Bohemia the oat crop
+is, unfortunately, very bad this season. But in Moravia it's splendid,
+and is two groats cheaper ... So there's your chance, Ephraim, my child;
+you've got the money, buy!" All at once a dark cloud overspread his
+smiling face.
+
+"It's a lot of money, Ephraim, that I am giving you ... many a merchant
+can't lay his hands on it," he said, hesitatingly; "but if ... you were
+to ... gam--"
+
+The word remained unfinished, for upon his arm he suddenly felt a
+sensation as of a sharp, pricking needle.
+
+"Uncle Gabriel!" cried Viola--for it was she who had gripped his
+arm--and the child's cheeks were flaming, whilst her lips curled with
+scorn, and her white teeth gleamed like those of a beast of prey. "Uncle
+Gabriel!" she almost shrieked, "if you don't trust Ephraim, then take
+your money back again ... it's only because you are our mother's brother
+that we accept it from you at all ... Ephraim shall repay you to the
+last farthing ... Ephraim doesn't gamble ... you sha'n't lose a single
+penny of it."
+
+With a shake of his head the farmer regarded the strange child. He felt
+something like annoyance rise within him; an angry word rose to the lips
+of the usually good tempered man. But it remained unsaid; he was unable
+to remove his eyes from the child's face.
+
+"As I live," he muttered, "she has Gudule's very eyes."
+
+And with another thumping slap on his leg, he merrily exclaimed:
+
+"All right, we'll leave it so then.... If Ephraim doesn't repay me, I'll
+take YOU, you wild thing... for you've stood surety for your brother,
+and then I'll take you away, and keep you with me at home. Do you
+agree... you little spit-fire, eh?"
+
+"Yes, uncle!" cried Viola.
+
+"Then give me a kiss, Viola."
+
+The child hesitated for a moment, then she laid her cheek upon her
+uncle's face.
+
+"Ah, now I've got you, you little spit-fire," he cried, kissing her
+again and again. "Aren't you ashamed now to have snapped your uncle up
+like that?"
+
+Then after giving Ephraim some further information about the present
+price of oats, and the future prospects of the crops, with a sideshot
+at the chances of wool, skins, and other merchandise, he took his leave.
+
+There was great surprise in the Ghetto when the barely fifteen-year-old
+lad made his first start in business. Many made merry over "the great
+merchant," but before the year was ended, the sharp-seeing eyes of the
+Ghetto saw that Ephraim had "a lucky hand." Whatever he undertook he
+followed up with a calmness and tact which often baffled the restless
+activity of many a big dealer, with all his cuteness and trickery.
+Whenever Ephraim, with his pale, sad fnce, made his appearance at a
+farmstead, to negotiate for the purchase of wool, or some such matter,
+it seemed as though some invisible messenger had gone before him to
+soften the hearts of the farmers. "No one ever gets things as cheap as
+you do," he was assured by many a farmer's wife, who had been won by the
+unconscious eloquence of his dark eyes. No longer did people laugh at
+"the little merchant," for nothing so quickly kills ridicule as success.
+
+When, two years later, his Uncle Gabriel came again to see how the
+children were getting on, Ephraim was enabled to repay, in hard cash,
+the money he had lent him.
+
+"Oho!" cried Gudule's brother, with big staring eyes, as he clutched his
+legs with both hands, "how have you managed in so short a time to save
+so much? D'ye know that that's a great deal of money?"
+
+"I've had good luck, uncle," said Ephraim, modestly.
+
+"You've been...playing, perhaps?"
+
+The words fell bluntly from the rough country-man, but hardly had they
+been uttered, when Viola sprang from her chair, as though an adder had
+stung her. "Uncle," she cried, and a small fist hovered before Gabriel's
+eyes in such a threatening manner that he involuntarily closed them. But
+the child, whose features reminded him so strongly of his dead sister,
+could not make him angry.
+
+"Ephraim," he exclaimed, in a jocund tone, warding off Viola with his
+hands, "you take my advice. Take this little spit-fire with you into the
+village one day...they may want a young she-wolf there." Then he
+pocketed the money.
+
+"Well, Ephraim," said he, "may God bless you, and grant you further
+luck. But you won't blame me if I take the money,--I can do with it, and
+in oats, as you know, there's some chance of good business just now. But
+I am glad to see that you're so prompt at paying. Never give too much
+credit! That's always my motto; trust means ruin, and eats up a man's
+business, as rats devour the contents of a corn-barn."
+
+There was but one thing that constantly threw its dark shadow across
+these two budding lives,--it was the dark figure in a distant prison.
+This it was that saddened the souls of the two children with a gloom
+which no sunshine could dispel. When on Fridays Ephraim returned,
+fatigued and weary from his work, to the home over which Viola presided
+with such pathetic housewifely care, no smile of welcome was on her
+face, no greeting on his. Ephraim, 'tis true, told his sister where he
+had been, and what he had done, but in the simplest words there vibrated
+that tone of unutterable sadness which has its constant dwelling-place
+in such sorely-tried hearts.
+
+Meanwhile, a great change had come over Viola. Nature continues her
+processes of growth and development 'mid the tempests of human grief,
+and often the fiercer the storm the more beautiful the after effects.
+Viola was no longer the pale child, "the little spit-fire," by whom her
+Uncle Gabriel's arm had been seized in such a violent grip. A womanly
+gentleness had come over her whole being, and already voices were heard
+in the Ghetto praising her grace and beauty, which surpassed even the
+loveliness of her dead mother in her happiest days. Many an admiring eye
+dwelt upon the beautiful girl, many a longing glance was cast in the
+direction of the little house, where she dwelt with her brother. But the
+daughter of a "gambler," the child of a man who was undergoing
+imprisonment for the indulgence of his shameful vice! That was a picture
+from which many an admirer shrank with horror!
+
+One day Ephraim brought home a young canary for his sister. When he
+handed her the bird in its little gilt cage, her joy knew no bounds, and
+showering kisses by turns upon her brother, and on the wire-work of the
+cage, her eyes sparkling with animation:
+
+"You shall see, Ephraim, how I'll teach the little bird to speak," she
+cried.
+
+The softening influence which had, during the last few months, come over
+his sister's nature was truly a matter of wonder to Ephraim. Humbly and
+submissively she accepted the slightest suggestion on his part, as
+though it were a command. He was to her a father and mother, and never
+were parents more implicitly obeyed by a child than this brother by a
+sister but three years his junior.
+
+There was one subject, however, upon which Ephraim found his sister
+implacable and firm--their absent father, the mere mention of whose name
+made her tremble. Then there returned that haughty curl of the lips, and
+all the other symptoms of a proud, inflexible spirit. It was evident
+that Viola hated the man to whom she owed her existence.
+
+Thus had it come about that Ephraim was almost afraid to pronounce his
+father's name. Neither did he care to allude to their mother before
+Viola, for the memory of her death was too closely bound up with that
+dark form behind the distant prison walls.
+
+Let us now return to the night on which Ephraim opened the door to his
+father. How had it come about? A thousand times Ephraim had thought
+about his father's return--and now he durst not even kindle a light, to
+look upon the long-estranged face. As silent as when he had come,
+Ascher remained during the rest of the night; he had seated himself at
+the window, and his arm was resting upon the very spot where formerly
+the cage had stood. The bird had obtained its freedom, and was, no
+doubt, by this time asleep, nestling amid the breeze-swept foliage of
+some wooded glen. HE too had regained his liberty, but no sleep closed
+his eyes, and yet he was in safe shelter, in the house of his children.
+
+At length the day began to break. The sun was still hiding behind the
+mountain-tops, but its earliest rays were already reflected upon the
+window-panes. In the Ghetto footsteps became audible; here and there the
+grating noise of an opening street-door was heard, while from round the
+corner resounded, ever and anon, the hammer of the watchman, calling the
+people to morning service; for it was a Fast-day, which commenced at
+sunrise.
+
+At that moment Ascher raised himself from his chair, and quickly turned
+away from the window. Ephraim was already by his side. "Father, dear
+father!" he cried from the inmost depths of his heart, as he tried to
+grasp the hand of the convict.
+
+"Don't make such a noise," said the latter, casting a furtive glance in
+the direction of the window, and speaking in the same mysterious whisper
+in which he had asked for admittance into the house.
+
+What a strange awakening it was to his son, when, in the gray twilight
+of the breaking day, he looked at Ascher more closely. In his
+imagination Ephraim had pictured a wan, grief-worn figure, and now he
+saw before him a strong, well-built man, who certainly did not present
+the appearance of a person who had just emerged from the dank atmosphere
+of a prison! On the contrary, he seemed stronger and more vigorous than
+he had appeared in his best days.
+
+"Has he had such a good time of it...?" Ephraim felt compelled to ask
+himself... "how different our poor mother looked!"
+
+With a violent effort he repressed the feelings which swelled his bosom.
+"Dear father," he said, with tears in his eyes, "make yourself quite
+comfortable; you haven't closed your eyes the whole night, you must be
+worn out. You are at home, remember...father!"
+
+"It's all right," said Ascher, with a deprecating gesture, "WE fellows
+know other ways of spending the night."
+
+"WE FELLOWS!" The words cut Ephraim to the heart.
+
+"But you may be taken ill, father," he timidly observed.
+
+"I taken ill! What do you take me for?" Ascher laughed, boisterously.
+"I haven't the slightest intention of falling ill."
+
+At that moment the watchman was heard hammering at the door of the next
+house. The reverberating blows seemed to have a strangely disquieting
+effect upon the strong man: a violent tremor seized him; he cast one of
+the frightened glances which Ephraim had noticed before in the direction
+of the window, then with one bound he was at the door, and swiftly
+turned the knob.
+
+"Father, what's the matter?" Ephraim cried, much alarmed.
+
+"Does the watchman look into the room when he passes by?" asked Ascher,
+while his eyes almost burst from their sockets, with the intentness of
+their gaze.
+
+"Never," Ephraim assured him.
+
+"Let me see, wait..." whispered Ascher.
+
+The three well-known knocks now resounded upon their own door, then the
+shadow of a passing figure was thrown upon the opposite wall. With a
+sigh of relief, the words escaped Ascher's bosom:
+
+"He did not look inside..." he muttered to himself.
+
+Then he removed his hand from the door-knob, came back into the centre
+of the room, and approaching the table, rested his hand upon it.
+
+"Ephraim..." he said after a while, in that suppressed tone which seemed
+to be peculiar to him, "aren't you going to synagogue?"
+
+"No, father," replied Ephraim, "I'm not going to-day."
+
+"But they'll want to know," Ascher observed, and at the words an ugly
+sneer curled the corners of his lip; "they'll want to know who your
+guest is. Why don't you go and tell them?"
+
+"Father!" cried Ephraim.
+
+"Then be good enough to draw down the blinds. ...What business is it of
+theirs who your guest is? Let them attend to their own affairs... But
+they wouldn't be of 'the chosen race' if they didn't want to know what
+was taking place in the furthermost corner of your brain. You can't be
+too careful with them...you're never secure against their far-scenting
+noses and their sharp, searching eyes."
+
+It was now broad daylight. Ephraim drew down the blinds.
+
+"The blinds are too white..." Ascher muttered, and moving a chair
+forward, he sat down upon it with his back to the window.
+
+Ephraim proceeded to wind the phylacteries round his arm, and commenced
+to say his prayers softly.
+
+His devotions over, he hurriedly took the phylacteries from his head and
+hand.
+
+Ascher was still sitting immovable, his back to the window, his eyes
+fixed upon the door.
+
+"Why don't you ask me where I've left my luggage?" he suddenly cried.
+
+"I'll fetch it myself if you'll tell me where it is," Ephraim remarked,
+in all simplicity.
+
+"Upon my word, you make me laugh," cried Ascher, and a laugh like that
+of delirium burst from his lips. "All I can say, Ephraim, is, the most
+powerful giant upon earth would break his back beneath the weight of my
+luggage!"
+
+Then only did Ephraim grasp his father's meaning.
+
+"Don't worry yourself, father..." he said lovingly.
+
+"Would you like to support me, perhaps!" Ascher shouted, with cutting
+disdain.
+
+Ephraim's heart almost ceased to beat. Then movements were heard in the
+adjoining room.
+
+"Have you any one with you?" cried Ascher springing up. His sharp ears
+had instantly caught the sounds, and again the strong man was seized
+with violent trembling.
+
+"Father, it's only dear Viola," said Ephraim.
+
+A nameless terror seemed to have over-powered Ascher. With one hand
+convulsively clenched upon the arm of the chair, and the other pressed
+to his temple, he sat breathing heavily. Ephraim observed with alarm
+what a terrible change had come over his father's features during the
+last few seconds: his face had become ashen white, his eyes had lost
+their lustre, he seemed to have aged ten years.
+
+The door opened, and Viola entered.
+
+"Viola!" cried Ephraim, "here is our--"
+
+"Welcome!" said the girl, in a low voice, as she approached a few steps
+nearer. She extended her hand towards him, but her eyes were cast down.
+She stood still for a moment, then, with a hurried movement, turned
+away.
+
+"Gudule!" cried Ascher, horror-stricken, as he fell back almost
+senseless in his chair.
+
+Was it the glamour of her maiden beauty that had so overpowered this
+unhappy father? Or was it the extraordinary resemblance she bore to the
+woman who had so loved him, and whose heart he had broken? The utterance
+of her name, the terror that accompanied the exclamation, denoted the
+effect which the girl's sudden appearance had produced upon that sadly
+unhinged mind.
+
+"Viola!" Ephraim cried, in a sorrow-stricken voice, "why don't you come
+here?"
+
+"I CAN'T, Ephraim, I CAN'T..." she moaned, as, with halting steps, she
+walked towards the door.
+
+"Come, speak to him, do," Ephraim entreated, taking her hand in his.
+
+"Let me go!" she cried, trying to release herself ... "I am thinking of
+mother!"
+
+Suddenly Ascher rose.
+
+"Where's my stick?" he cried. "I want the stick which I brought with
+me...Where is it? I must go."
+
+"Father, you won't..." cried Ephraim.
+
+Then Viola turned round.
+
+"Father," she said, with twitching lips... "you'll want something to eat
+before you go."
+
+"Yes, yes, let me have something to eat," he shouted, as he brought his
+fist down upon the table. "Bring me wine...and let it be good ...I am
+thirsty enough to drink the river dry. ...Wine, and beer, and anything
+else you can find, bring all here, and then, when I've had my fill, I'll
+go."
+
+"Go, Viola," Ephraim whispered in his sister's ear, "and bring him all
+he asks for."
+
+When Viola had left the room, Ascher appeared to grow calmer. He sat
+down again leaning his arms upon the table.
+
+"Yes," he muttered to himself: "I'll taste food with my children, before
+I take up my stick and go...They say it's lucky to have the first drink
+of the day served by one's own child ...and luck I will have again, at
+any price... What good children! While I've been anything but a good
+father to them, they run hither and thither and take the trouble to get
+me food and drink, and I, I've brought them home nothing but a wooden
+stick. But I'll repay them, so help me God, I'll make them rich yet, but
+I've got nothing but a wooden stick, and I want money, no play without
+money, and no luck either..."
+
+Gradually a certain thoughtfulness overspread Ascher's agitated
+features, his lips were tightly compressed, deep furrows lined his
+forehead, while his eyes were fixed in a stony glare, as if upon some
+distant object. In the meantime Ephraim had remained standing almost
+motionless, and it was evident that his presence in the room had quite
+escaped his father's observation. With a chilling shudder running
+through his frame, his hair on end with horror, he listened to the
+strange soliloquy!...Then he saw his father's eyes travelling slowly in
+the direction of the old bureau in the corner, and there they remained
+fixed. "Why does he leave the key in the door, I wonder," he heard him
+mutter between his teeth, "just as Gudule used to do; I must tell him
+when he comes back, keys shouldn't be left indoors, never, under any
+circumstances." The entrance of Viola interrupted the old gambler's
+audible train of thought.
+
+Ephraim gave a gasp of relief.
+
+"Ah, what have you brought me?" cried Ascher, and his eyes sparkled with
+animation, as Viola produced some bottles from under her apron, and
+placed them and some glasses upon the table.
+
+"Now then, fill up the glass," he shouted, in a commanding voice, "and
+take care that you don't spill any, or you'll spoil my luck."
+
+With trembling hand Viola did as she was bidden, without spilling a
+single drop. Then he took up the glass and drained it at one draught.
+His face flushed a bright crimson: he poured himself out another glass.
+
+"Aren't you drinking, Ephraim?" he exclaimed, after he had finished that
+glass also.
+
+"I don't drink to-day, father," Ephraim faltered, "it's a fast."
+
+"A fast? What fast? I have been fasting too," he continued, with a
+coarse laugh, "twice a week, on bread and water; an excellent thing for
+the stomach. Fancy, a fast-day in midsummer. On such a long day, when
+the sun is up at three already, and at eight o'clock at night is still
+hesitating whether he'll go to bed or not ...what have I got to do with
+your Fast-day?"
+
+His face grew redder every moment; he had drunk a third and a fourth
+glass, and there was nothing but a mere drain left in the bottle.
+Already his utterance was thick and incoherent, and his eyes were fast
+assuming that glassy brightness that is usually the forerunner of
+helpless intoxication. It was a sight Ephraim could not bear to see.
+Impelled by that natural, almost holy shame which prompted the son of
+Noah to cover the nakedness of his father, he motioned to his sister to
+leave. Then HE, too, softly walked out of the room.
+
+Outside, in the corridor, the brother and sister fell into each other's
+arms. Both wept bitterly: for a long time neither of them could find
+words in which to express the grief which filled their souls. At length
+Viola, her head resting upon Ephraim's shoulder, whispered: "Ephraim,
+what do you think of him?"
+
+"He is ill, I think..." said Ephraim, in a voice choked with sobs.
+
+"What, you call THAT illness, Ephraim?" Viola cried; "if that's illness,
+then a wild beast is ill too."
+
+"Viola, for Heaven's sake, be quiet: he's our own father after all!"
+
+"Ephraim!" said the girl, with a violent outburst of emotion, as she
+again threw herself into her brother's arms... "just think if mother had
+lived to see this!"
+
+"Don't, don't, Viola, my sweet!" Ephraim exclaimed, sobbing convulsively.
+
+"Ephraim!" the girl cried, shaking her head in wild despair, "I don't
+believe in the Sechus! When we live to see all this, and our hearts do
+not break, we lose faith in everything...Ephraim, what is to become of
+us?"
+
+"Hush, dear Viola, hush, you don't know what you are saying," replied
+Ephraim, "I believe in it, because mother herself told us...you must
+believe in it too."
+
+But Viola again shook her head. "I don't believe in it any longer," she
+moaned, "I can't."
+
+Noiselessly, Ephraim walked toward the door of the front room; he placed
+his ear against the keyhole, and listened. Within all was silent. A
+fresh terror seized him. Why was no sound to be heard?...He opened the
+door cautiously lest it should creak. There sat his father asleep in the
+arm-chair, his head bent on his bosom, his arms hanging limp by his
+side.
+
+"Hush, Viola," he whispered, closing the door as cautiously as he had
+opened it, "he is asleep. ...I think it will do him good. Be careful
+that you make no noise."
+
+Viola had seated herself upon a block of wood outside the kitchen door,
+and was sobbing silently. In the meantime, Ephraim, unable to find a
+word of solace for his sister, went and stood at the street door, so
+that no unbidden guest should come to disturb his father's slumbers. It
+was mid-day; from the church hard by streamed the peasants and their
+wives in their Sunday attire, and many bestowed a friendly smile upon
+the well-known youth. But he could only nod his head in return, his
+heart was sore oppressed, and a smile at such a moment seemed to him
+nothing short of sin. He went back into the house, and listened at the
+door of the room. Silence still reigned unbroken, and with noiseless
+steps he again walked away.
+
+"He is still sleeping," he whispered to his sister. "Just think what
+would have happened if we had still had that bird...He wouldn't have
+been able to sleep a wink."
+
+"Ephraim, why do you remind me of it?" cried Viola with a fresh outburst
+of tears. "Where is the little bird now, I wonder?..."
+
+Ephraim sat down beside his sister, and took her hand in his. Thus they
+remained seated for some time, unable to find a word of comfort for each
+other.
+
+At length movements were heard. Ephraim sprang to his feet and once more
+approached the door to listen.
+
+"He is awake!" he softly said to Viola, and slowly opening the door, he
+entered the room.
+
+Ascher was walking up and down with heavy tread.
+
+"Do you feel refreshed after your sleep, father?" Ephraim asked timidly.
+
+Ascher stood still, and confronted his son. His face was still very
+flushed, but his eyes had lost their glassy stare; his glance was clear
+and steady.
+
+"Ephraim, my son," he began, in a kindly, almost cheerful tone, "you've
+grown into a splendid business man, as good a business man as one can
+meet with between this and Vienna. I'm sure of it. But I must give you
+one bit of advice; it's worth a hundred pounds to one in your position.
+Never leave a key in the lock of a bureau!"
+
+Ephraim looked at his father as though stupefied. Was the man mad or
+delirious to talk in such a strain? At that moment, from the extreme end
+of the Ghetto, there sounded the three knocks, summoning the people to
+evening prayer. As in the morning, so again now the sound seemed to stun
+the vigorous man. His face blanched and assumed an expression of terror;
+he trembled from head to foot. Then again he cast a frightened glance
+in the direction of the window.
+
+"Nothing but knocking, knocking!" he muttered. "They would like to knock
+the most hidden thoughts out of one's brains, if they only could. What
+makes them do it, I should like to know?...To the clanging of a bell you
+can, at all events, shut your ears, you need only place your hands to
+them...but with that hammer they bang at every confounded door, and
+drive one crazy. Who gives them the right to do it, I should like to
+know?" He stood still listening.
+
+"Do you think he will be long before he reaches here?" he asked Ephraim,
+in a frightened voice.
+
+"Who, father?"
+
+"The watch."
+
+"He has already knocked next door but one."
+
+Another minute, and the three strokes sounded on the door of the house.
+Ascher heaved a sigh of relief; he rubbed his hand across his forehead;
+it was wet with perspiration.
+
+"Thank God!" he cried, as though addressing himself, "that's over, and
+won't come again till to-morrow."
+
+"Ephraim, my son!" he cried, with a sudden outburst of cheerfulness,
+accompanying the words with a thundering bang upon the table, "Ephraim,
+my son, you shall soon see what sort of a father you have. Now, you're
+continually worrying your brains, walking your feet off, trying to get
+a skin, or praying some fool of a peasant to be good enough to sell you
+a bit of wool. Ephraim, my son, all that shall soon be changed, take my
+word for it. I'll make you rich, and as for Viola, I'll get her a
+husband--such a husband that all the girls in Bohemia will turn green
+and yellow with envy...Ascher's daughter shall have as rich a dowry as
+the daughter of a Rothschild... But there's one thing, and one thing
+only, that I need, and then all will happen as I promise, in one night."
+
+"And what is that, father!" asked Ephraim, with a slight shudder.
+
+"Luck, luck, Ephraim, my son!" he shouted. "What is a man without luck?
+Put a man who has no luck in a chest full of gold; cover him with gold
+from head to foot; when he crawls out of it, and you search his pockets,
+you'll find the gold has turned to copper."
+
+"And will you have luck, father?" asked Ephraim.
+
+"Ephraim, my son!" said the old gambler, with a cunning smile, "I'll
+tell you something--There are persons whose whole powers are devoted to
+one object--how to win a fortune; in the same way as there are some who
+study to become doctors, and the like, so these study what we call
+luck...and from them I've learned it."
+
+He checked himself in sudden alarm lest he might have said too much, and
+looked searchingly at his son. A pure soul shone through Ephraim's open
+countenance, and showed his father that his real meaning had not been
+grasped.
+
+"Never mind," he shouted loudly, waving his arms in the air, "what is
+to come no man can stop. Give me something to drink, Ephraim."
+
+"Father," the latter faltered, "don't you think it will harm you?"
+
+"Don't be a fool, Ephraim!" cried Ascher, "you don't know my
+constitution. Besides, didn't you say that to-day was a fast, when it
+is forbidden to eat anything? And have I asked you for any food? But as
+for drink, that's quite another thing! The birds of the air can't do
+without it, much less man!"
+
+Ephraim saw that for that evening, at all events, it would not do to
+oppose his father. He walked into the kitchen where Viola was preparing
+supper, or rather breakfast, for after the fast this was the first meal
+of the day.
+
+"Viola," he said, "make haste and fetch some fresh wine."
+
+"For him?" cried Viola, pointing her finger almost threateningly in the
+direction of the sitting-room door.
+
+"Don't, don't, Viola!" Ephraim implored.
+
+"And you are fasting!" she said.
+
+"Am I not also fasting for him?" said Ephraim.
+
+With a full bottle in his hand Ephraim once more entered the room. He
+placed the wine upon the table, where the glasses from which Ascher had
+drunk in the morning were still standing.
+
+"Where is Viola?" asked Ascher, who was again pacing the room with firm
+steps.
+
+"She is busy cooking."
+
+"Tell her she shall have a husband, and a dowry that will make half the
+girls in Bohemia turn green and yellow with envy."
+
+Then he approached the table, and drank three brimming glasses, one
+after the other. "Now then," he said, as with his whole weight he
+dropped into the old arm-chair... "Now I'll have a good night's rest.
+I need strength and sharp eyes, and they are things which only sleep can
+give. Ephraim, my son," he continued after awhile in thick, halting
+accents... "tell the watch--Simon is his name, I think--he can give six
+knocks instead of three upon the door, in the morning, he won't disturb
+me...and to Viola you can say I'll find her a husband, handsomer than
+her eyes have ever beheld, and tell her on her wedding-day she shall
+wear pearls round her neck like those of a queen--no, no, like those of
+Gudule, her mother." A few moments later he was sound asleep.
+
+It was the dead of night. All round reigned stillness and peace, the
+peace of night! What a gentle sound those words convey, a sound akin
+only to the word HOME! Fraught, like it, with sweetest balm, a fragrant
+flower from long-lost paradise. Thou art at rest, Ascher, and in safe
+shelter; the breathing of thy children is so restful, so tranquil...
+
+Desist! desist! 'T is too late. Side by side with the peace of night,
+there dwell Spirits of Evil, the never-resting, vagrant, home-destroying
+guests, who enter unbidden into the human soul! Hark, the rustling of
+their raven-hued plumage! They take wing, they fly aloft; 't is the
+shriek of the vulture, swooping down upon the guileless dove.
+
+Is there no eye to watch thee? Doth not thine own kin see thy foul deeds?
+
+Desist!
+
+'T is too late...
+
+Open is the window, no grating noise has accompanied the unbolting of
+the shutter... The evil spirits have taken care that the faintest sound
+shall die away...even the rough iron obeys their voices...it is they who
+have bidden: "Be silent; betray him not; he is one of us."
+
+Even the key in the door of the old bureau is turned lightly and without
+noise. Groping fingers are searching for a bulky volume. Have they found
+it? Is there none there to cry in a voice of thunder: "Cursed be the
+father who stretches forth his desecrating hand towards the things that
+are his children's"?...
+
+They HAVE found it, the greedy fingers! and now, but a spring through
+the open window, and out into the night...
+
+At that moment a sudden ray of light shines through a crack in the door
+of the room... Swiftly the door opens, a girlish figure appears on the
+threshold, a lighted lamp in her hand...
+
+"Gudule!" he shrieks, horror-stricken, and falls senseless at her feet.
+
+Ascher was saved. The terrible blow which had struck him down had not
+crushed the life from him. He was awakened. But when, after four weeks
+of gruesome fever and delirium, his mind had somewhat regained its
+equilibrium, his hair had turned white as snow, and his children beheld
+an old, decrepit man.
+
+That which Viola had denied her father when he returned to them in all
+the vigor of his manhood, she now lavished upon him in his suffering and
+helplessness, with that concentrated power of love, the source of which
+is not human, but Divine. In the space of one night of terror, the
+merest bud of yesterday had suddenly blossomed forth into a flower of
+rarest beauty. Never did gentler hands cool a fever-heated brow, never
+did sweeter voice mingle its melody with the gruesome dreams of
+delirium.
+
+On his sick-bed, lovingly tended by Ephraim and Viola, an ennobling
+influence gradually came over the heart of the old gambler, and so
+deeply touched it, that calm peace crowned his closing days. It was
+strange that the events of that memorable night, and the vicissitudes
+that had preceded it, had left no recollection behind, and his children
+took good care not to re-awaken, by the slightest hint, his sleeping
+memory.
+
+A carriage drew up one day in front of Ascher's house. There has
+evidently been a splendid crop of oats this year. Uncle Gabriel has
+come. Uncle Gabriel has only lately assumed the additional character of
+father-in-law to Ephraim, for he declared that none but Ephraim should
+be his pet daughter's husband. And now he has come for the purpose of
+having a confidential chat with Viola. There he sits, the kind-hearted,
+simple-minded man, every line of his honest face eloquent with
+good-humor and happiness, still guilty of an occasional violent
+onslaught upon his thighs. Viola still remains his "little spit-fire."
+
+"Now, Viola, my little spit-fire," said he, "won't you yet allow me to
+talk to my Nathan about you? Upon my word, the boy can't bear the
+suspense any longer."
+
+"Uncle," says Viola, and a crimson blush dyes her pale cheeks: "Uncle,"
+she repeats, in a tone of such deep earnestness, that the laughing
+expression upon Gabriel's face instantly vanishes, "please don't talk
+to him at all. MY place is with my father!"
+
+And to all appearances Viola will keep her word.
+
+Had she taken upon herself a voluntary penance for having, in her
+heart's bitter despair, presumed to abjure her faith in the Sechus of
+her mother? Or was there yet another reason? The heart of woman is a
+strangely sensitive thing. It loves not to build its happiness upon the
+hidden ruins of another's life.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEVERED HAND
+
+BY
+
+WILHELM HAUFF
+
+
+I was born in Constantinople; my father was a dragoman at the Porte, and
+besides, carried on a fairly lucrative business in sweet-scented
+perfumes and silk goods. He gave me a good education; he partly
+instructed me himself, and also had me instructed by one of our priests.
+He at first intended me to succeed him in business one day, but as I
+showed greater aptitude than he had expected, he destined me, on the
+advice of his friends, to be a doctor; for if a doctor has learned a
+little more than the ordinary charlatan, he can make his fortune in
+Constantinople. Many Franks frequented our house, and one of them
+persuaded my father to allow me to travel to his native land to the city
+of Paris, where such things could be best acquired and free of charge.
+He wished, however, to take me with himself gratuitously on his journey
+home. My father, who had also travelled in his youth, agreed, and the
+Frank told me to hold myself in readiness three months hence. I was
+beside myself with joy at the idea of seeing foreign countries, and
+eagerly awaited the moment when we should embark. The Frank had at last
+concluded his business and prepared himself for the journey. On the
+evening before our departure my father led me into his little bedroom.
+There I saw splendid dresses and arms lying on the table. My looks were
+however chiefly attracted to an immense heap of gold, for I had never
+before seen so much collected together.
+
+My father embraced me and said: "Behold, my son, I have procured for
+thee clothes for the journey. These weapons are thine; they are the same
+which thy grandfather hung around me when I went abroad. I know that
+thou canst use them aright; but only make use of them when thou art
+attacked; on such occasions, however, defend thyself bravely. My
+property is not large; behold I have divided it into three parts, one
+part for thee, another for my support and spare money, but the third is
+to me a sacred and untouched property, it is for thee in the hour of
+need." Thus spoke my old father, tears standing in his eyes, perhaps
+from some foreboding, for I never saw him again.
+
+The journey passed off very well; we had soon reached the land of the
+Franks, and six days later we arrived in the large city of Paris. There
+my Frankish friend hired a room for me, and advised me to spend wisely
+my money, which amounted in all to two thousand dollars. I lived three
+years in this city, and learned what is necessary for a skilful doctor
+to know. I should not, however, be stating the truth if I said that I
+liked being there, for the customs of this nation displeased me;
+besides, I had only a few chosen friends there, and these were noble
+young men.
+
+The longing after home at last possessed me mightily; during the whole
+of that time I had not heard anything from my father, and I therefore
+seized a favorable opportunity of reaching home. An embassy from France
+left for Turkey. I acted as surgeon to the suite of the Ambassador and
+arrived happily in Stamboul. My father's house was locked, and the
+neighbors, who were surprised on seeing me, told me my father had died
+two months ago. The priest who had instructed me in my youth brought me
+the key; alone and desolate I entered the empty house. All was still in
+the same position as my father had left it, only the gold which I was
+to inherit was gone. I questioned the priest about it, and he, bowing,
+said: "Your father died a saint, for he has bequeathed his gold to the
+Church." This was and remained inexplicable to me. However, what could
+I do? I had no witness against the priest, and had to be glad that he
+had not considered the house and the goods of my father as a bequest.
+This was the first misfortune that I encountered. Henceforth nothing but
+ill-luck attended me. My reputation as doctor would not spread at all,
+because I was ashamed to act the charlatan; and I felt everywhere the
+want of the recommendation of my father, who would have introduced me
+to the richest and most distinguished, but who now no longer thought of
+the poor Zaleukos! The goods of my father also had no sale, for his
+customers had deserted him after his death, and new ones are only to be
+got slowly.
+
+Thus when I was one day meditating sadly over my position, it occurred
+to me that I had often seen in France men of my nation travelling
+through the country exhibiting their goods in the markets of the towns.
+I remembered that the people liked to buy of them, because they came
+from abroad, and that such a business would be most lucrative.
+Immediately I resolved what to do. I disposed of my father's house, gave
+part of the money to a trusty friend to keep for me, and with the rest
+I bought what are very rare in France, shawls, silk goods, ointments,
+and oils, took a berth on board a ship, and thus entered upon my second
+journey to the land of the Franks. It seemed as if fortune had favored
+me again as soon as I had turned my back upon the Castles of the
+Dardanelles. Our journey was short and successful. I travelled through
+the large and small towns of the Franks, and found everywhere willing
+buyers of my goods. My friend in Stamboul always sent me fresh stores,
+and my wealth increased day by day. When I had saved at last so much
+that I thought I might venture on a greater undertaking, I travelled
+with my goods to Italy. I must however confess to something, which
+brought me not a little money: I also employed my knowledge of physic.
+On reaching a town, I had it published that a Greek physician had
+arrived, who had already healed many; and in fact my balsam and medicine
+gained me many a sequin. Thus I had at length reached the city of
+Florence in Italy.
+
+I resolved upon remaining in this town for some time, partly because I
+liked it so well, partly also because I wished to recruit myself from
+the exertions of my travels. I hired a vaulted shop, in that part of the
+town called Sta. Croce, and not far from this a couple of nice rooms at
+an inn, leading out upon a balcony. I immediately had my bills
+circulated, which announced me to be both physician and merchant.
+Scarcely had I opened my shop when I was besieged by buyers, and in
+spite of my high prices I sold more than any one else, because I was
+obliging and friendly towards my customers. Thus I had already lived
+four days happily in Florence, when one evening, as I was about to close
+my vaulted room, and on examining once more the contents of my ointment
+boxes, as I was in the habit of doing, I found in one of the small boxes
+a piece of paper, which I did not remember to have put into it.
+
+I unfolded the paper, and found in it an invitation to be on the bridge
+which is called Ponto Vecchio that night exactly at midnight. I was
+thinking for a long time as to who it might be who had invited me there;
+and not knowing a single soul in Florence, I thought perhaps I should
+be secretly conducted to a patient, a thing which had already often
+occurred. I therefore determined to proceed thither, but took care to
+gird on the sword which my father had once presented to me. When it was
+close upon midnight I set out on my journey, and soon reached the Ponte
+Vecchio. I found the bridge deserted, and determined to await the
+appearance of him who called me. It was a cold night; the moon shone
+brightly, and I looked down upon the waves of the Arno, which sparkled
+far away in the moonlight. It was now striking twelve o'clock from all
+the churches of the city, when I looked up and saw a tall man standing
+before me completely covered in a scarlet cloak, one end of which hid
+his face.
+
+At first I was somewhat frightened, because he had made his appearance
+so suddenly; but was however myself again shortly afterwards, and said:
+"If it is you who have ordered me here, say what you want?" The man
+dressed in scarlet turned round and said in an undertone: "Follow!" At
+this, however, I felt a little timid to go alone with this stranger. I
+stood still and said: "Not so, sir, kindly first tell me where; you
+might also let me see your countenance a little, in order to convince
+me that you wish me no harm." The red one, however, did not seem to pay
+any attention to this. "If thou art unwilling, Zaleukos, remain," he
+replied, and continued his way. I grew angry. "Do you think," I
+exclaimed, "a man like myself allows himself to be made a fool of, and
+to have waited on this cold night for nothing?"
+
+In three bounds I had reached him, seized him by his cloak, and cried
+still louder, whilst laying hold of my sabre with my other hand. His
+cloak, however, remained in my hand, and the stranger had disappeared
+round the nearest corner. I became calmer by degrees. I had the cloak
+at any rate, and it was this which would give me the key to this
+remarkable adventure. I put it on and continued my way home. When I was
+at a distance of about a hundred paces from it, some one brushed very
+closely by me and whispered in the language of the Franks: "Take care,
+Count, nothing can be done to-night." Before I had time, however, to
+turn round, this somebody had passed, and I merely saw a shadow hovering
+along the houses. I perceived that these words did not concern me, but
+rather the cloak, yet it gave me no explanation concerning the affair.
+On the following morning I considered what was to be done. At first I
+had intended to have the cloak cried in the streets, as if I had found
+it. But then the stranger might send for it by a third person, and thus
+no light would be thrown upon the matter. Whilst I was thus thinking,
+I examined the cloak more closely. It was made of thick Genoese velvet,
+scarlet in color, edged with Astrachan fur and richly embroidered with
+gold. The magnificent appearance of the cloak put a thought into my mind
+which I resolved to carry out.
+
+I carried it into my shop and exposed it for sale, but placed such a
+high price upon it that I was sure nobody would buy it. My object in
+this was to scrutinize everybody sharply who might ask for the fur
+cloak; for the figure of the stranger, which I had seen but
+superficially, though with some certainty, after the loss of the cloak,
+I should recognize amongst a thousand. There were many would-be
+purchasers for the cloak, the extraordinary beauty of which attracted
+everybody; but none resembled the stranger in the slightest degree, and
+nobody was willing to pay such a high price as two hundred sequins for
+it. What astonished me was that on asking somebody or other if there was
+not such a cloak in Florence, they all answered "No," and assured me
+they never had seen so precious and tasteful a piece of work.
+
+Evening was drawing near, when at last a young man appeared, who had
+already been to my place, and who had also offered me a great deal for
+the cloak. He threw a purse with sequins upon the table, and exclaimed:
+"Of a truth, Zaleukos, I must have thy cloak, should I turn into a
+beggar over it!" He immediately began to count his pieces of gold. I was
+in a dangerous position: I had only exposed the cloak, in order merely
+to attract the attention of my stranger, and now a young fool came to
+pay an immense price for it. However, what could I do? I yielded; for
+on the other hand I was delighted at the idea of being so handsomely
+recompensed for my nocturnal adventure.
+
+The young man put the cloak around him and went away, but on reaching
+the threshold he returned; whilst unfastening a piece of paper which had
+been tied to the cloak, and throwing it towards me, he exclaimed: "Here,
+Zaleukos, hangs something which I dare say does not belong to the
+cloak." I picked up the piece of paper carelessly, but behold, on it
+these words were written: "Bring the cloak at the appointed hour
+to-night to the Ponte Vecchio, four hundred sequins are thine." I stood
+thunderstruck. Thus I had lost my fortune and completely missed my aim!
+Yet I did not think long. I picked up the two hundred sequins, jumped
+after the one who had bought the cloak, and said: "Dear friend, take
+back your sequins, and give me the cloak; I cannot possibly part with
+it." He first regarded the matter as a joke; but when he saw that I was
+in earnest, he became angry at my demand, called me a fool, and finally
+it came to blows.
+
+However, I was fortunate enough to wrench the cloak from him in the
+scuffle, and was about to run away with it, when the young man called
+the police to his assistance, and we both appeared before the judge. The
+latter was much surprised at the accusation, and adjudicated the cloak
+in favor of my adversary. I offered the young man twenty, fifty, eighty,
+even a hundred sequins in addition to his two hundred, if he would part
+with the cloak. What my entreaties could not do, my gold did. He
+accepted it. I, however, went away with the cloak triumphantly, and had
+to appear to the whole town of Florence as a madman. I did not care,
+however, about the opinion of the people; I knew better than they that
+I profited after all by the bargain.
+
+Impatiently I awaited the night. At the same hour as before I went with
+the cloak under my arm towards the Ponte Vecchio. With the last stroke
+of twelve the figure appeared out of the darkness, and came towards me.
+It was unmistakably the man whom I had seen yesterday. "Hast thou the
+cloak?" he asked me. "Yes, sir," I replied; "but it cost me a hundred
+sequins ready money." "I know it," replied the other "Look here, here
+are four hundred." He went with me towards the wide balustrade of the
+bridge, and counted out the money. There were four hundred; they
+sparkled magnificently in the moonlight; their glitter rejoiced my
+heart. Alas, I did not anticipate that this would be its last joy. I put
+the money into my pocket, and was desirous of thoroughly looking at my
+kind and unknown stranger; but he wore a mask, through which dark eyes
+stared at me frightfully. "I thank you, sir, for your kindness," I said
+to him; "what else do you require of me? I tell you beforehand it must
+be an honorable transaction." "There is no occasion for alarm," he
+replied, whilst winding the cloak around his shoulders; "I require your
+assistance as surgeon, not for one alive, but dead."
+
+"What do you mean?" I exclaimed, full of surprise. "I arrived with my
+sister from abroad." he said, and beckoned me at the same time to follow
+him. "I lived here with her at the house of a friend. My sister died
+yesterday suddenly of a disease, and my relatives wish to bury her
+to-morrow. According to an old custom of our family all are to be buried
+in the tomb of our ancestors; many, notwithstanding, who died in foreign
+countries are buried there and embalmed. I do not grudge my relatives
+her body, but for my father I want at least the head of his daughter,
+in order that he may see her once more." This custom of severing the
+heads of beloved relatives appeared to me somewhat awful, yet I did not
+dare to object to it lest I should offend the stranger. I told him that
+I was acquainted with the embalming of the dead, and begged him to
+conduct me to the deceased. Yet I could not help asking him why all this
+must be done so mysteriously and at night? He answered me that his
+relatives, who considered his intention horrible, objected to it by
+daylight; if only the head were severed, then they could say no more
+about it; although he might have brought me the head, yet a natural
+feeling had prevented him from severing it himself.
+
+In the meantime we had reached a large, splendid house. My companion
+pointed it out to me as the end of our nocturnal walk. We passed the
+principal entrance of the house, entered a little door, which the
+stranger carefully locked behind him, and now ascended in the dark a
+narrow spiral staircase. It led towards a dimly lighted passage, out of
+which we entered a room lighted by a lamp fastened to the ceiling.
+
+In this room was a bed, on which the corpse lay. The stranger turned
+aside his face, evidently endeavoring to hide his tears. He pointed
+towards the bed, telling me to do my business well and quickly, and left
+the room.
+
+I took my instruments, which I as surgeon always carried about with me,
+and approached the bed. Only the head of the corpse was visible, and it
+was so beautiful that I experienced involuntarily the deepest sympathy.
+Dark hair hung down in long plaits, the features were pale, the eyes
+closed. At first I made an incision into the skin, after the manner of
+surgeons when amputating a limb. I then took my sharpest knife, and with
+one stroke cut the throat. But oh, horror! The dead opened her eyes, but
+immediately closed them again, and with a deep sigh she now seemed to
+breathe her last. At the same moment a stream of hot blood shot towards
+me from the wound. I was convinced that the poor creature had been
+killed by me. That she was dead there was no doubt, for there was no
+recovery from this wound. I stood for some minutes in painful anguish
+at what had happened. Had the "red-cloak" deceived me, or had his sister
+perhaps merely been apparently dead? The latter seemed to me more
+likely. But I dare not tell the brother of the deceased that perhaps a
+little less deliberate cut might have awakened her without killing her;
+therefore I wished to sever the head completely; but once more the dying
+woman groaned, stretched herself out in painful movements, and died.
+
+Fright overpowered me, and shuddering, I hastened out of the room. But
+outside in the passage it was dark; for the light was out, no trace of
+my companion was to be seen, and I was obliged, haphazard, to feel my
+way in the dark along the wall, in order to reach the staircase. I
+discovered it at last and descended, partly falling and partly gliding.
+But there was not a soul downstairs. I merely found the door ajar, and
+breathed freer on reaching the street, for I had felt very strange
+inside the house. Urged on by terror, I rushed towards my dwelling-place,
+and buried myself in the cushions of my bed, in order to forget the
+terrible thing that I had done.
+
+But sleep deserted me, and only the morning admonished me again to take
+courage. It seemed to me probable that the man who had induced me to
+commit this nefarious deed, as it now appeared to me, might not denounce
+me. I immediately resolved to set to work in my vaulted room, and if
+possible to assume an indifferent look. But alas! an additional
+circumstance, which I only now noticed, increased my anxiety still more.
+My cap and my girdle, as well as my instruments, were wanting, and I was
+uncertain as to whether I had left them in the room of the murdered
+girl, or whether I had lost them in my flight. The former seemed indeed
+the more likely, and thus I could easily be discovered as the murderer.
+
+At the accustomed hour I opened my vaulted room. My neighbor came in,
+as was his wont every morning, for he was a talkative man. "Well," he
+said, "what do you say about the terrible affair which has occurred
+during the night?" I pretended not to know anything. "What, do you not
+know what is known all over the town? Are you not aware that the
+loveliest flower in Florence, Bianca, the Governor's daughter, was
+murdered last night? I saw her only yesterday driving through the
+streets in so cheerful a manner with her intended one, for to-day the
+marriage was to have taken place." I felt deeply wounded at each word
+of my neighbor. Many a time my torment was renewed, for every one of my
+customers told me of the affair, each one more ghastly than the other,
+and yet nobody could relate anything more terrible than that which I had
+seen myself.
+
+About mid-day a police-officer entered my shop and requested me to send
+the people away. "Signor Zaleukos" he said, producing the things which
+I had missed, "do these things belong to you?" I was thinking as to
+whether I should not entirely repudiate them, but on seeing through the
+door, which stood ajar, my landlord and several acquaintances, I
+determined not to aggravate the affair by telling a lie, and
+acknowledged myself as the owner of the things. The police-officer
+asked me to follow him, and led me towards a large building which I soon
+recognized as the prison. There he showed me into a room meanwhile.
+
+My situation was terrible, as I thought of it in my solitude. The idea
+of having committed a murder, unintentionally, constantly presented
+itself to my mind. I also could not conceal from myself that the glitter
+of the gold had captivated my feelings, otherwise I should not have
+fallen blindly into the trap. Two hours after my arrest I was led out
+of my cell. I descended several steps until at last I reached a great
+hall. Around a long table draped in black were seated twelve men, mostly
+old men. There were benches along the sides of the hall, filled with the
+most distinguished of Florence. The galleries, which were above, were
+thickly crowded with spectators. When I had stepped towards the table
+covered with black cloth, a man with a gloomy and sad countenance rose;
+it was the Governor. He said to the assembly that he as the father in
+this affair could not sentence, and that he resigned his place on this
+occasion to the eldest of the Senators. The eldest of the Senators was
+an old man at least ninety years of age. He stood in a bent attitude,
+and his temples were covered with thin white hair, but his eyes were as
+yet very fiery, and his voice powerful and weighty. He commenced by
+asking me whether I confessed to the murder. I requested him to allow
+me to speak, and related undauntedly and with a clear voice what I had
+done, and what I knew.
+
+I noticed that the Governor, during my recital, at one time turned pale,
+and at another time red. When I had finished, he rose angrily: "What,
+wretch!" he exclaimed, "dost thou even dare to impute a crime which thou
+hast committed from greediness to another?" The Senator reprimanded him
+for his interruption, since he had voluntarily renounced his right;
+besides it was not clear that I did the deed from greediness, for,
+according to his own statement, nothing had been stolen from the victim.
+He even went further. He told the Governor that he must give an account
+of the early life of his daughter, for then only it would be possible
+to decide whether I had spoken the truth or not. At the same time he
+adjourned the court for the day, in order, as he said, to consult the
+papers of the deceased, which the Governor would give him. I was again
+taken back to my prison, where I spent a wretched day, always fervently
+wishing that a link between the deceased and the "red-cloak" might be
+discovered. Full of hope, I entered the Court of Justice the next day.
+Several letters were lying upon the table. The old Senator asked me
+whether they were in my hand-writing. I looked at them and noticed that
+they must have been written by the same hand as the other two papers
+which I had received. I communicated this to the Senators, but no
+attention was paid to it, and they told me that I might have written
+both, for the signature of the letters was undoubtedly a Z., the first
+letter of my name. The letters, however, contained threats against the
+deceased, and warnings against the marriage which she was about to
+contract.
+
+The Governor seemed to have given extraordinary information concerning
+me, for I was treated with more suspicion and rigor on this day. I
+referred, to justify myself, to my papers which must be in my room, but
+was told they had been looked for without success. Thus at the
+conclusion of this sitting all hope vanished, and on being brought into
+the Court the third day, judgment was pronounced on me. I was convicted
+of wilful murder and condemned to death. Things had come to such a pass!
+Deserted by all that was precious to me upon earth, far away from home,
+I was to die innocently in the bloom of my life.
+
+On the evening of this terrible day which had decided my fate, I was
+sitting in my lonely cell, my hopes were gone, my thoughts steadfastly
+fixed upon death, when the door of my prison opened, and in came a man,
+who for a long time looked at me silently. "Is it thus I find you again,
+Zaleukos?" he said. I had not recognized him by the dim light of my
+lamp, but the sound of his voice roused in me old remembrances. It was
+Valetti, one of those few friends whose acquaintance I made in the city
+of Paris when I was studying there. He said that he had come to Florence
+accidentally, where his father, who was a distinguished man, lived. He
+had heard about my affair, and had come to see me once more, and to hear
+from my own lips how I could have committed such a crime. I related to
+him the whole affair. He seemed much surprised at it, and adjured me,
+as my only friend, to tell him all, in order not to leave the world with
+a lie behind me. I confirmed my assertions with an oath that I had
+spoken the truth, and that I was not guilty of anything, except that the
+glitter of the gold had dazzled me, and that I had not perceived the
+improbability of the story of the stranger. "Did you not know Bianca?"
+he asked me. I assured him that I had never seen her. Valetti now
+related to me that a profound mystery rested on the affair, that the
+Governor had very much accelerated my condemnation, and now a report was
+spread that I had known Bianca for a long time, and had murdered her out
+of revenge for her marriage with some one else. I told him that all this
+coincided exactly with the "red-cloak," but that I was unable to prove
+his participation in the affair. Valetti embraced me weeping, and
+promised me to do all, at least to save my life.
+
+I had little hope, though I knew that Valetti a clever man, well versed
+in the law, and that he would do all in his power to save my life. For
+two long days I was in uncertainty; at last Valetti appeared. "I bring
+consolation, though painful. You will live and be free with the loss of
+one hand." Affected, I thanked my friend for saving my life. He told me
+that the Governor had been inexorable in having the affair investigated
+a second time, but that he at last, in order not to appear unjust, had
+agreed, that if a similar case could be found in the law books of the
+history of Florence, my punishment should be the same as the one
+recorded in these books. He and his father had searched in the old books
+day and night, and at last found a case quite similar to mine. The
+sentence was: That his left hand be cut off, his property confiscated,
+and he himself banished for ever. This was my punishment also, and he
+asked me to prepare for the painful hour which awaited me. I will not
+describe to you that terrible hour, when I laid my hand upon the block
+in the public market-place and my own blood shot over me in broad
+streams.
+
+Valetti took me to his house until I had recovered; he then most
+generously supplied me with money for travelling, for all I had acquired
+with so much difficulty had fallen a prey to the law. I left Florence
+for Sicily and embarked on the first ship that I found for
+Constantinople. My hope was fixed upon the sum which I had entrusted to
+my friend. I also requested to be allowed to live with him. But how
+great was my astonishment on being asked why I did not wish to live in
+my own house. He told me that some unknown man had bought a house in the
+Greek Quarter in my name, and this very man had also told the neighbors
+of my early arrival. I immediately proceeded thither accompanied by my
+friend, and was received by all my old acquaintances joyfully. An old
+merchant gave me a letter, which the man who had bought the house for
+me had left behind. I read as follows: "Zaleukos! Two hands are prepared
+to work incessantly, in order that you may not feel the loss of one of
+yours. The house which you see and all its contents are yours, and every
+year you will receive enough to be counted amongst the rich of your
+people. Forgive him who is unhappier than yourself!" I could guess who
+had written it, and in answer to my question, the merchant told me it
+had been a man, whom he took for a Frank, and who had worn a scarlet
+cloak. I knew enough to understand that the stranger was, after all, not
+entirely devoid of noble intentions. In my new house I found everything
+arranged in the best style, also a vaulted room stored with goods, more
+splendid than I had ever had. Ten years have passed since. I still
+continue my commercial travels, more from old custom than necessity, yet
+I have never again seen that country where I became so unfortunate.
+Every year since, I have received a thousand gold-pieces; and although
+I rejoice to know that unfortunate man to be noble, yet he cannot
+relieve me of the sorrow of my soul, for the terrible picture of the
+murdered Bianca is continually on my mind.
+
+
+
+
+PETER SCHLEMIHL
+
+BY
+
+ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+After a prosperous, but to me very wearisome, voyage, we came at last
+into port. Immediately on landing I got together my few effects; and,
+squeezing myself through the crowd, went into the nearest and humblest
+inn which first met my gaze. On asking for a room the waiter looked at
+me from head to foot, and conducted me to one. I asked for some cold
+water, and for the correct address of Mr. Thomas John, which was
+described as being "by the north gate, the first country-house to the
+right, a large new house of red and white marble, with many pillars."
+This was enough. As the day was not yet far advanced, I untied my
+bundle, took out my newly-turned black coat, dressed myself in my best
+clothes, and, with my letter of recommendation, set out for the man who
+was to assist me in the attainment of my moderate wishes.
+
+After proceeding up the north street, I reached the gate, and saw the
+marble columns glittering through the trees. Having wiped the dust from
+my shoes with my pocket-handkerchief, and readjusted my cravat, I rang
+the bell--offering up at the same time a silent prayer. The door flew
+open, and the porter sent in my name. I had soon the honor to be invited
+into the park, where Mr. John was walking with a few friends. I
+recognized him at once by his corpulency and self-complacent air. He
+received me very well--just as a rich man receives a poor devil; and
+turning to me, took my letter. "Oh, from my brother! it is a long time
+since I heard from him: is he well?--Yonder," he went on,--turning to
+the company, and pointing to a distant hill--"yonder is the site of the
+new building." He broke the seal without discontinuing the conversation,
+which turned upon riches. "The man," he said, "who does not possess at
+least a million is a poor wretch." "Oh, how true!" I exclaimed, in the
+fulness of my heart. He seemed pleased at this, and replied with a
+smile: "Stop here, my dear friend; afterwards I shall, perhaps, have
+time to tell you what I think of this," pointing to the letter, which
+he then put into his pocket, and turned round to the company, offering
+his arm to a young lady: his example was followed by the other
+gentlemen, each politely escorting a lady; and the whole party proceeded
+towards a little hill thickly planted with blooming roses.
+
+I followed without troubling any one, for none took the least further
+notice of me. The party was in high spirits--lounging about and
+jesting--speaking sometimes of trifling matters very seriously, and of
+serious matters as triflingly--and exercising their wit in particular
+to great advantage on their absent friends and their affairs. I was too
+ignorant of what they were talking about to understand much of it, and
+too anxious and absorbed in my own reflections to occupy myself with the
+solution of such enigmas as their conversation presented.
+
+By this time we had reached the thicket of roses. The lovely Fanny, who
+seemed to be the queen of the day, was obstinately bent on plucking a
+rose-branch for herself, and in the attempt pricked her finger with a
+thorn. The crimson stream, as if flowing from the dark-tinted rose,
+tinged her fair hand with the purple current. This circumstance set the
+whole company in commotion; and court-plaster was called for. A quiet,
+elderly man, tall and meagre-looking, who was one of the company, but
+whom I had not before observed, immediately put his hand into the tight
+breast-pocket of his old-fashioned coat of gray sarcenet, pulled out a
+small letter-case, opened it, and, with a most respectful bow, presented
+the lady with the wished-for article. She received it without noticing
+the giver, or thanking him. The wound was bound up, and the party
+proceeded along the hill towards the back part, from which they enjoyed
+an extensive view across the green labyrinth of the park to the
+wide-spreading ocean. The view was truly a magnificent one. A slight
+speck was observed on the horizon, between the dark flood and the azure
+sky. "A telescope!" called out Mr. John; but before any of the servants
+could answer the summons the gray man, with a modest bow, drew his hand
+from his pocket, and presented a beautiful Dollond's telescope to Mr.
+John, who, on looking through it, informed the company that the speck
+in the distance was the ship which had sailed yesterday, and which was
+detained within sight of the haven by contrary winds. The telescope
+passed from hand to hand, but was not returned to the owner, whom I
+gazed at with astonishment, and could not conceive how so large an
+instrument could have proceeded from so small a pocket. This, however,
+seemed to excite surprise in no one; and the gray man appeared to create
+as little interest as myself.
+
+Refreshments were now brought forward, consisting of the rarest fruits
+from all parts of the world, served up in the most costly dishes. Mr.
+John did the honors with unaffected grace, and addressed me for the
+second time, saying, "You had better eat; you did not get such things
+at sea." I acknowledged his politeness with a bow, which, however, he
+did not perceive, having turned round to speak with some one else.
+
+The party would willingly have stopped some time here on the declivity
+of the hill, to enjoy the extensive prospect before them, had they not
+been apprehensive of the dampness of the grass. "How delightful it would
+be," exclaimed some one, "if we had a Turkey carpet to lay down here!"
+The wish was scarcely expressed when the man in the gray coat put his
+hand in his pocket, and, with a modest and even humble air, pulled out
+a rich Turkey carpet, embroidered in gold. The servant received it as
+a matter of course, and spread it out on the desired spot; and, without
+any ceremony, the company seated themselves on it. Confounded by what
+I saw, I gazed again at the man, his pocket, and the carpet, which was
+more than twenty feet in length and ten in breadth, and rubbed my eyes,
+not knowing what to think, particularly as no one saw anything
+extraordinary in the matter.
+
+I would gladly have made some inquiries respecting the man, and asked
+who he was, but knew not to whom I should address myself, for I felt
+almost more afraid of the servants than of their master. At length I
+took courage, and stepping up to a young man who seemed of less
+consequence than the others, and who was more frequently standing by
+himself, I begged of him, in a low tone, to tell me who the obliging
+gentleman was in the gray cloak. "That man who looks like a piece of
+thread just escaped from a tailor's needle?" "Yes; he who is standing
+alone yonder." "I do not know," was the reply; and to avoid, as it
+seemed, any further conversation with me, he turned away, and spoke of
+some commonplace matters with a neighbor.
+
+The sun's rays now being stronger, the ladies complained of feeling
+oppressed by the heat; and the lovely Fanny, turning carelessly to the
+gray man, to whom I had not yet observed that any one had addressed the
+most trifling question, asked him if, perhaps, he had not a tent about
+him. He replied, with a low bow, as if some unmerited honor had been
+conferred upon him; and, putting his hand in his pocket, drew from it
+canvas, poles, cord, iron--in short, everything belonging to the most
+splendid tent for a party of pleasure. The young gentlemen assisted in
+pitching it; and it covered the whole carpet; but no one seemed to think
+that there was anything extraordinary in it.
+
+I had long secretly felt uneasy--indeed, almost horrified; but how was
+this feeling increased when, at the next wish expressed, I saw him take
+from his pocket three horses! Yes, Adelbert, three large beautiful
+steeds, with saddles and bridles, out of the very pocket whence had
+already issued a letter-case, a telescope, a carpet twenty feet broad
+and ten in length, and a pavilion of the same extent, with all its
+appurtenances! Did I not assure thee that my own eyes had seen all this,
+thou wouldst certainly disbelieve it.
+
+This man, although he appeared so humble and embarrassed in his air and
+manners, and passed so unheeded, had inspired me with such a feeling of
+horror by the unearthly paleness of his countenance, from which I could
+not avert my eyes, that I was unable longer to endure it.
+
+I determined, therefore, to steal away from the company, which appeared
+no difficult matter, from the undistinguished part I acted in it. I
+resolved to return to the town, and pay another visit to Mr. John the
+following morning, and, at the same time, make some inquiries of him
+relative to the extraordinary man in gray, provided I could command
+sufficient courage. Would to Heaven that such good fortune had awaited
+me!
+
+I had stolen safely down the hill, through the thicket of roses, and now
+found myself on an open plain; but fearing lest I should be met out of
+the proper path, crossing the grass, I cast an inquisitive glance
+around, and started as I beheld the man in the gray cloak advancing
+towards me. He took off his hat, and made me a lower bow than mortal had
+ever yet favored me with. It was evident that he wished to address me;
+and I could not avoid encountering him without seeming rude. I returned
+his salutation, therefore, and stood bareheaded in the sunshine as if
+rooted to the ground. I gazed at him with the utmost horror, and felt
+like a bird fascinated by a serpent.
+
+He affected himself to have an air of embarassment. With his eyes on the
+ground, he bowed several times, drew nearer, and at last, without
+looking up, addressed me in a low and hesitating voice, almost in the
+tone of a suppliant: "Will you, sir, excuse my importunity in venturing
+to intrude upon you in so unusual a manner? I have a request to
+make--would you most graciously be pleased to allow me--?" "Hold! for
+Heaven's sake!" I exclaimed; "what can I do for a man who--" I stopped
+in some confusion, which he seemed to share. After a moment's pause he
+resumed: "During the short time I have had the pleasure to be in your
+company, I have--permit me, sir, to say--beheld with unspeakable
+admiration your most beautiful shadow, and remarked the air of noble
+indifference with which you, at the same time, turn from the glorious
+picture at your feet, as if disdaining to vouchsafe a glance at it.
+Excuse the boldness of my proposal; but perhaps you would have no
+objection to sell me your shadow?" He stopped, while my head turned
+round like a mill-wheel. What was I to think of so extraordinary a
+proposal? To sell my shadow! "He must be mad," thought I; and assuming
+a tone more in character with the submissiveness of his own, I replied,
+"My good friend, are you not content with your own shadow? This would
+be a bargain of a strange nature indeed!"
+
+"I have in my pocket," he said, "many things which may possess some
+value in your eyes: for that inestimable shadow I should deem the
+highest price too little."
+
+A cold shuddering came over me as I recollected the pocket; and I could
+not conceive what had induced me to style him "GOOD FRIEND," which I
+took care not to repeat, endeavoring to make up for it by studied
+politeness.
+
+I now resumed the conversation: "But, sir--excuse your humble servant--I
+am at a loss to comprehend your meaning,--my shadow?--how can I?"
+
+"Permit me," he exclaimed, interrupting me, "to gather up the noble
+image as it lies on the ground, and to take it into my possession. As
+to the manner of accomplishing it, leave that to me. In return, and as
+an evidence of my gratitude, I shall leave you to choose among all the
+treasures I have in my pocket, among which are a variety of enchanting
+articles, not exactly adapted for you, who, I am sure, would like better
+to have the wishing-cap of Fortunatus, all made new and sound again, and
+a lucky purse which also belonged to him."
+
+"Fortunatus's purse!" cried I; and, great as was my mental anguish, with
+that one word he had penetrated the deepest recesses of my soul. A
+feeling of giddiness came over me, and double ducats glittered before
+my eyes.
+
+"Be pleased, gracious sir, to examine this purse, and make a trial of
+its contents." He put his hand in his pocket, and drew forth a large
+strongly stitched bag of stout Cordovan leather, with a couple of
+strings to match, and presented it to me. I seized it--took out ten
+gold-pieces, then ten more, and this I repeated again and again.
+Instantly I held out my hand to him. "Done," said I; "the bargain is
+made: my shadow for the purse." "Agreed," he answered; and, immediately
+kneeling down, I beheld him, with extraordinary dexterity, gently loosen
+my shadow from the grass, lift it up, fold it together, and, at last,
+put it his pocket. He then rose, bowed once more to me, and directed his
+steps towards the rose bushes. I fancied I heard him quietly laughing
+to himself. However, I held the purse fast by the two strings. The earth
+was basking beneath the brightness of the sun; but I presently lost all
+consciousness.
+
+On recovering my senses, I hastened to quit a place where I hoped there
+was nothing further to detain me. I first filled my pockets with gold,
+then fastened the strings of the purse round my neck, and concealed it
+in my bosom. I passed unnoticed out of the park, gained the high-road,
+and took the way to the town. As I was thoughtfully approaching the
+gate, I heard some one behind me exclaiming: "Young man! young man! you
+have lost your shadow!" I turned, and perceived an old woman calling
+after me. "Thank you, my good woman," said I; and throwing her a piece
+of gold for her well-intended information, I stepped under the trees.
+At the gate, again, it was my fate to hear the sentry inquiring where
+the gentleman had left his shadow; and immediately I heard a couple of
+women exclaiming, "Jesu Maria! the poor man has no shadow." All this
+began to depress me, and I carefully avoided walking in the sun; but
+this could not everywhere be the case: for in the next broad street I
+had to cross, and, unfortunately for me, at the very hour in which the
+boys were coming out of school, a humpbacked lout of a fellow--I see him
+yet--soon made the discovery that I was without a shadow, and
+communicated the news, with loud outcries, to a knot of young urchins.
+The whole swarm proceeded immediately to reconnoitre me, and to pelt me
+with mud. "People," cried they, "are generally accustomed to take their
+shadows with them when they walk in the sunshine."
+
+In order to drive them away I threw gold by handfuls among them, and
+sprang into a hackney-coach which some compassionate spectators sent to
+my rescue.
+
+As soon as I found myself alone in the rolling vehicle I began to weep
+bitterly. I had by this time a misgiving that, in the same degree in
+which gold in this world prevails over merit and virtue, by so much
+one's shadow excels gold; and now that I had sacrificed my conscience
+for riches, and given my shadow in exchange for mere gold, what on earth
+would become of me?
+
+As the coach stopped at the door of my late inn, I felt much perplexed,
+and not at all disposed to enter so wretched an abode. I called for my
+things, and received them with an air of contempt, threw down a few
+gold-pieces, and desired to be conducted to a first-rate hotel. This
+house had a northern aspect, so that I had nothing to fear from the sun.
+I dismissed the coachman with gold, asked to be conducted to the best
+apartment, and locked myself up in it as soon as possible.
+
+Imagine, my friend, what I then set about? O my dear Chamisso! even to
+thee I blush to mention what follows.
+
+I drew the ill-fated purse from my bosom; and, in a sort of frenzy that
+raged like a self-fed fire within me, I took out gold--gold--gold--more
+and more, till I strewed it on the floor, trampled upon it, and feasting
+on its very sound and brilliancy, added coins to coins, rolling and
+revelling on the gorgeous bed, until I sank exhausted.
+
+Thus passed away that day and evening; and as my door remained locked,
+night found me still lying on the gold, where, at last, sleep
+overpowered me.
+
+Then I dreamed of thee, and fancied I stood behind the glass door of thy
+little room, and saw thee seated at thy table between a skeleton and a
+bunch of dried plants; before thee lay open the works of Haller,
+Humboldt, and Linnaeus; on thy sofa a volume of Goethe, and the
+Enchanted Ring. I stood a long time contemplating thee, and everything
+in thy apartment; and again turning my gaze upon thee, I perceived that
+thou wast motionless--thou didst not breathe--thou wast dead.
+
+I awoke--it seemed yet early--my watch had stopped. I felt thirsty,
+faint, and worn out; for since the preceding morning I had not tasted
+food. I now cast from me, with loathing and disgust, the very gold with
+which but a short time before I had satiated my foolish heart. Now I
+knew not where to put it--I dared not leave it lying there. I examined
+my purse to see if it would hold it,--impossible! Neither of my windows
+opened on the sea. I had no other resource but, with toil and great
+fatigue, to drag it to a huge chest which stood in a closet in my room;
+where I placed it all, with the exception of a handful or two. Then I
+threw myself, exhausted, into an arm-chair, till the people of the house
+should be up and stirring. As soon as possible I sent for some
+refreshment, and desired to see the landlord.
+
+I entered into some conversation with this man respecting the
+arrangement of my future establishment. He recommended for my personal
+attendant one Bendel, whose honest and intelligent countenance
+immediately prepossessed me in his favor. It is this individual whose
+persevering attachment has consoled me in all the miseries of my life,
+and enabled me to bear up under my wretched lot. I was occupied the
+whole day in my room with servants in want of a situation, and tradesmen
+of every description. I decided on my future plans, and purchased
+various articles of vertu and splendid jewels, in order to get rid of
+some of my gold; but nothing seemed to diminish the inexhaustible heap.
+
+I now reflected on my situation with the utmost uneasiness. I dared not
+take a single step beyond my own door; and in the evening I had forty
+wax tapers lighted before I ventured to leave the shade. I reflected
+with horror on the frightful encounter with the schoolboys; yet I
+resolved, if I could command sufficient courage, to put the public
+opinion to a second trial. The nights were now moonlight. Late in the
+evening I wrapped myself in a large cloak, pulled my hat over my eyes,
+and, trembling like a criminal, stole out of the house.
+
+I did not venture to leave the friendly shadow of the houses until I had
+reached a distant part of the town; and then I emerged into the broad
+moonlight, fully prepared to hear my fate from the lips of the
+passers-by.
+
+Spare me, my beloved friend, the painful recital of all that I was
+doomed to endure. The women often expressed the deepest sympathy for
+me--a sympathy not less piercing to my soul than the scoffs of the young
+people, and the proud contempt of the men, particularly of the more
+corpulent, who threw an ample shadow before them. A fair and beauteous
+maiden, apparently accompanied by her parents, who gravely kept looking
+straight before them, chanced to cast a beaming glance on me; but was
+evidently startled at perceiving that I was without a shadow, and hiding
+her lovely face in her veil, and holding down her head, passed silently
+on.
+
+This was past all endurance. Tears streamed from my eyes; and with a
+heart pierced through and through, I once more took refuge in the shade.
+I leaned on the houses for support, and reached home at a late hour,
+worn out with fatigue.
+
+I passed a sleepless night. My first care the following morning was to
+devise some means of discovering the man in the gray cloak. Perhaps I
+may succeed in finding him; and how fortunate it were if he should be
+as ill satisfied with his bargain as I am with mine!
+
+I desired Bendel to be sent for, who seemed to possess some tact and
+ability. I minutely described to him the individual who possessed a
+treasure without which life itself was rendered a burden to me. I
+mentioned the time and place at which I had seen him, named all the
+persons who were present, and concluded with the following directions:
+He was to inquire for a Dollond's telescope, a Turkey carpet interwoven
+with gold, a marquee, and, finally, for some black steeds--the history,
+without entering into particulars, of all these being singularly
+connected with the mysterious character who seemed to pass unnoticed by
+every one, but whose appearance had destroyed the peace and happiness
+of my life.
+
+As I spoke I produced as much gold as I could hold in my two hands, and
+added jewels and precious stones of still greater value. "Bendel," said
+I, "this smooths many a path, and renders that easy which seems almost
+impossible. Be not sparing of it, for I am not so; but go, and rejoice
+thy master with intelligence on which depend all his hopes."
+
+He departed, and returned late and melancholy. None of Mr. John's
+servants, none of his guests (and Bendel had spoken to them all), had
+the slightest recollection of the man in the gray cloak. The new
+telescope was still there, but no one knew how it had come; and the tent
+and Turkey carpet were still stretched out on the hill. The servants
+boasted of their master's wealth; but no one seemed to know by what
+means he had become possessed of these newly acquired luxuries. He was
+gratified; and it gave him no concern to be ignorant how they had come
+to him. The black coursers which had been mounted on that day were in
+the stables of the young gentlemen of the party, who admired them as the
+munificent present of Mr. John.
+
+Such was the information I gained from Bendel's detailed account; but,
+in spite of this unsatisfactory result, his zeal and prudence deserved
+and received my commendation. In a gloomy mood, I made him a sign to
+withdraw.
+
+"I have, sir," he continued, "laid before you all the information in my
+power relative to the subject of the most importance to you. I have now
+a message to deliver which I received early this morning from a person
+at the gate, as I was proceeding to execute the commission in which I
+have so unfortunately failed. The man's words were precisely these:
+'Tell your master, Peter Schlemihl, he will not see me here again. I am
+going to cross the sea; a favorable wind now calls all the passengers
+on board; but in a year and a day I shall have the honor of paying him
+a visit; when, in all probability, I shall have a proposal to make to
+him of a very agreeable nature. Commend me to him most respectfully,
+with many thanks.' I inquired his name; but he said you would remember
+him."
+
+"What sort of a person was he?" cried I, in great emotion; and Bendel
+described the man in the gray coat feature by feature, word for word;
+in short, the very individual in search of whom he had been sent. "How
+unfortunate!" cried I bitterly; "it was himself." Scales, as it were,
+fell from Bendel's eyes. "Yes, it was he," cried he, "undoubtedly it was
+he; and fool, madman, that I was, I did not recognize him--I did not,
+and I have betrayed my master!" He then broke out into a torrent of
+self-reproach; and his distress really excited my compassion. I
+endeavored to console him, repeatedly assuring him that I entertained
+no doubt of his fidelity; and despatched him immediately to the wharf,
+to discover, if possible, some trace of the extraordinary being. But on
+that very morning many vessels which had been detained in port by
+contrary winds had set sail, all bound to different parts of the globe;
+and the gray man had disappeared like a shadow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+Of what use were wings to a man fast bound in chains of iron? They would
+but increase the horror of his despair. Like the dragon guarding his
+treasure, I remained cut off from all human intercourse, and starving
+amidst my very gold, for it gave me no pleasure: I anathematized it as
+the source of all my wretchedness.
+
+Sole depository of my fearful secret, I trembled before the meanest of
+my attendants, whom, at the same time, I envied; for he possessed a
+shadow, and could venture to go out in the day-time, while I shut myself
+up in my room day and night, and indulged in all the bitterness of
+grief.
+
+One individual, however, was daily pining away before my eyes--my
+faithful Bendel, who was the victim of silent self-reproach, tormenting
+himself with the idea that he had betrayed the confidence reposed in him
+by a good master, in failing to recognize the individual in quest of
+whom he had been sent, and with whom he had been led to believe that my
+melancholy fate was closely connected. Still, I had nothing to accuse
+him with, as I recognized in the occurrence the mysterious character of
+the unknown.
+
+In order to leave no means untried, I one day despatched Bendel with a
+costly ring to the most celebrated artist in the town, desiring him to
+wait upon me. He came; and, dismissing the attendants, I secured the
+door, placing myself opposite to him, and, after extolling his art, with
+a heavy heart came to the point, first enjoining the strictest secrecy.
+
+"For a person," said I, "who most unfortunately has lost his shadow,
+could you paint a false one?"
+
+"Do you speak of the natural shadow?"
+
+"Precisely so."
+
+"But," he asked, "by what awkward negligence can a man have lost his
+shadow?"
+
+"How it occurred," I answered, "is of no consequence; but it was in this
+manner"--(and here I uttered an unblushing falsehood)--"he was
+travelling in Russia last winter, and one bitterly cold day it froze so
+intensely, that his shadow remained so fixed to the ground, that it was
+found impossible to remove it."
+
+"The false shadow that I might paint," said the artist, "would be liable
+to be lost on the slightest movement, particularly in a person who, from
+your account, cares so little about his shadow. A person without a
+shadow should keep out of the sun, that is the only safe and rational
+plan."
+
+He arose and took his leave, casting so penetrating a look at me that
+I shrank from it. I sank back in my chair, and hid my face in my hands.
+
+In this attitude Bendel found me, and was about to withdraw silently and
+respectfully on seeing me in such a state of grief: looking up,
+overwhelmed with my sorrows, I felt that I must communicate them to him.
+"Bendel," I exclaimed, "Bendel, thou the only being who seest and
+respectest my grief too much to inquire into its cause--thou who seemest
+silently and sincerely to sympathize with me--come and share my
+confidence. The extent of my wealth I have not withheld from thee,
+neither will I conceal from thee the extent of my grief. Bendel! forsake
+me not. Bendel, you see me rich, free, beneficent; you fancy all the
+world in my power; yet you must have observed that I shun it, and avoid
+all human intercourse. You think, Bendel, that the world and I are at
+variance; and you yourself, perhaps, will abandon me, when I acquaint
+you with this fearful secret. Bendel, I am rich, free, generous; but,
+O God, I have NO SHADOW!
+
+"No shadow!" exclaimed the faithful young man, tears starting from his
+eyes. "Alas! that I am born to serve a master without a shadow!" He was
+silent, and again I hid my face in my hands.
+
+"Bendel," at last I tremblingly resumed, "you have now my confidence;
+you may betray me--go--bear witness against me!"
+
+He seemed to be agitated with conflicting feelings; at last he threw
+himself at my feet and seized my hand, which he bathed with his tears.
+
+"No," he exclaimed; "whatever the world may say, I neither can nor will
+forsake my excellent master because he has lost his shadow. I will
+rather do what is right than what may seem prudent. I will remain with
+you--I will shade you with my own shadow--I will assist you when I
+can--and when I cannot, I will weep with you."
+
+I fell upon his neck, astonished at sentiments so unusual; for it was
+very evident that he was not prompted by the love of money.
+
+My mode of life and my fate now became somewhat different. It is
+incredible with what provident foresight Bendel contrived to conceal my
+deficiency. Everywhere he was before me, and with me, providing against
+every contingency, and in cases of unlooked-for danger, flying to shield
+me with his own shadow, for he was taller and stouter than myself. Thus
+I once more ventured among mankind, and began to take a part in worldly
+affairs. I was compelled, indeed, to affect certain peculiarities and
+whims; but in a rich man they seem only appropriate; and so long as the
+truth was kept concealed I enjoyed all the honor and respect which gold
+could procure.
+
+I now looked forward with more composure to the promised visit of the
+mysterious unknown at the expiration of the year and a day.
+
+I was very sensible that I could not venture to remain long in a place
+where I had once been seen without a shadow, and where I might easily
+be betrayed; and perhaps, too, I recollected my first introduction to
+Mr. John, and this was by no means a pleasing reminiscence. However, I
+wished just to make a trial here, that I might with greater ease and
+security visit some other place. But my vanity for some time withheld
+me, for it is in this quality of our race that the anchor takes the
+firmest hold.
+
+Even the lovely Fanny, whom I again met in several places, without her
+seeming to recollect that she had ever seen me before, bestowed some
+notice on me; for wit and understanding were mine in abundance now. When
+I spoke, I was listened to; and I was at a loss to know how I had so
+easily acquired the art of commanding attention, and giving the tone to
+the conversation.
+
+The impression which I perceived I had made upon this fair one
+completely turned my brain; and this was just what she wished. After
+that, I pursued her with infinite pains through every obstacle. My
+vanity was only intent on exciting hers to make a conquest of me; but
+although the intoxication disturbed my head, it failed to make the least
+impression on my heart.
+
+But why detail to you the oft-repeated story which I have so often heard
+from yourself?
+
+However, in the old and well-known drama in which I played so worn-out
+a part, a catastrophe occurred of quite a peculiar nature, in a manner
+equally unexpected to her, to me, and to everybody.
+
+One beautiful evening I had, according to my usual custom, assembled a
+party in a garden, and was walking arm-in-arm with Fanny at a little
+distance from the rest of the company, and pouring into her ear the
+usual well-turned phrases, while she was demurely gazing on vacancy, and
+now and then gently returning the pressure of my hand. The moon suddenly
+emerged from behind a cloud at our back. Fanny perceived only her own
+shadow before us. She started, looked at me with terror, and then again
+on the ground, in search of my shadow. All that was passing in her mind
+was so strangely depicted in her countenance, that I should have burst
+into a loud fit of laughter had I not suddenly felt my blood run cold
+within me. I suffered her to fall from my arm in a fainting-fit; shot
+with the rapidity of an arrow through the astonished guests, reached the
+gate, threw myself into the first conveyance I met with, and returned
+to the town, where this time, unfortunately, I had left the wary Bendel.
+He was alarmed on seeing me: one word explained all. Post-horses were
+immediately procured. I took with me none of my servants, one cunning
+knave only excepted, called Rascal, who had by his adroitness become
+very serviceable to me, and who at present knew nothing of what had
+occurred. I travelled thirty leagues that night; having left Bendel
+behind to discharge my servants, pay my debts, and bring me all that was
+necessary.
+
+When he came up with me next day, I threw myself into his arms, vowing
+to avoid such follies and to be more careful for the future.
+
+We pursued our journey uninterruptedly over the frontiers and mountains;
+and it was not until I had placed this lofty barrier between myself and
+the before-mentioned unlucky town that I was persuaded to recruit
+myself after my fatigues in a neighboring and little-frequented
+watering-place.
+
+I must now pass rapidly over one period of my history, on which how
+gladly would I dwell, could I conjure up your lively powers of
+delineation! But the vivid hues which are at your command, and which
+alone can give life and animation to the picture, have left no trace
+within me; and were I now to endeavor to recall the joys, the griefs,
+the pure and enchanting emotions, which once held such powerful dominion
+in my breast, it would be like striking a rock which yields no longer
+the living spring, and whose spirit has fled for ever. With what an
+altered aspect do those bygone days now present themselves to my gaze!
+
+In this watering-place I acted an heroic character, badly studied; and
+being a novice on such a stage, I forgot my part before a pair of lovely
+blue eyes.
+
+All possible means were used by the infatuated parents to conclude the
+bargain; and deception put an end to these usual artifices. And that is
+all--all.
+
+The powerful emotions which once swelled my bosom seem now in the
+retrospect to be poor and insipid, nay, even terrible to me.
+
+Alas, Minna! as I wept for thee the day I lost thee, so do I now weep
+that I can no longer retrace thine image in my soul.
+
+Am I, then, so far advanced into the vale of years? O fatal effects of
+maturity! would that I could feel one throb, one emotion of former days
+of enchantment--alas, not one! a solitary being, tossed on the wild
+ocean of life--it is long since I drained thine enchanted cup to the
+dregs!
+
+But to return to my narrative. I had sent Bendel to the little town with
+plenty of money to procure me a suitable habitation. He spent my gold
+profusely; and as he expressed himself rather reservedly concerning his
+distinguished master (for I did not wish to be named), the good people
+began to form rather extraordinary conjectures.
+
+As soon as my house was ready for my reception, Bendel returned to
+conduct me to it. We set out on our journey. About a league from the
+town, on a sunny plain, we were stopped by a crowd of people, arrayed
+in holiday attire for some festival. The carriage stopped. Music, bells,
+cannons, were heard; and loud acclamations rang through the air.
+
+Before the carriage now appeared in white dresses a chorus of maidens,
+all of extraordinary beauty; but one of them shone in resplendent
+loveliness, and eclipsed the rest as the sun eclipses the stars of
+night. She advanced from the midst of her companions, and, with a lofty
+yet winning air, blushingly knelt before me, presenting on a silken
+cushion a wreath, composed of laurel branches, the olive, and the rose,
+saying something respecting majesty, love, honor, etc., which I could
+not comprehend; but the sweet and silvery magic of her tones intoxicated
+my senses and my whole soul: it seemed as if some heavenly apparition
+were hovering over me. The chorus now began to sing the praises of a
+good sovereign and the happiness of his subjects. All this, dear
+Chamisso, took place in the sun: she was kneeling two steps from me, and
+I, without a shadow, could not dart through the air, nor fall on my
+knees before the angelic being. Oh, what would I not now have given for
+a shadow! To conceal my shame, agony, and despair, I buried myself in
+the recesses of the carriage. Bendel at last thought of an expedient;
+he jumped out of the carriage. I called him back, and gave him out of
+the casket I had by me a rich diamond coronet, which had been intended
+for the lovely Fanny.
+
+He stepped forward, and spoke in the name of his master, who, he said,
+was overwhelmed by so many demonstrations of respect, which he really
+could not accept as an honor--there must be some error; nevertheless he
+begged to express his thanks for the goodwill of the worthy townspeople.
+In the meantime Bendel had taken the wreath from the cushion, and laid
+the brilliant crown in its place. He then respectfully raised the lovely
+girl from the ground; and, at one sign, the clergy, magistrates, and all
+the deputations withdrew. The crowd separated to allow the horses to
+pass, and we pursued our way to the town at full gallop, through arches
+ornamented with flowers and branches of laurel. Salvos of artillery
+again were heard. The carriage stopped at my gate; I hastened through
+the crowd which curiosity had attracted to witness my arrival.
+Enthusiastic shouts resounded under my windows, from whence I showered
+gold amidst the people; and in the evening the whole town was
+illuminated. Still all remained a mystery to me, and I could not imagine
+for whom I had been taken. I sent Rascal out to make inquiry; and he
+soon obtained intelligence that the good King of Prussia was travelling
+through the country under the name of some count; that my aide-de-camp
+had been recognized, and that he had divulged the secret; that on
+acquiring the certainty that I would enter their town, their joy had
+known no bounds: however, as they perceived I was determined on
+preserving the strictest incognito, they felt how wrong they had been
+in too importunately seeking to withdraw the veil; but I had received
+them so condescendingly and so graciously, that they were sure I would
+forgive them. The whole affair was such capital amusement to the
+unprincipled Rascal, that he did his best to confirm the good people in
+their belief, while affecting to reprove them. He gave me a very comical
+account of the matter; and, seeing that I was amused by it, actually
+endeavored to make a merit of his impudence.
+
+Shall I own the truth? My vanity was flattered by having been mistaken
+for our revered sovereign. I ordered a banquet to be got ready for the
+following evening, under the trees before my house, and invited the
+whole town. The mysterious power of my purse, Bendel's exertions, and
+Rascal's ready invention made the shortness of the time seem as nothing.
+
+It was really astonishing how magnificently and beautifully everything
+was arranged in these few hours. Splendor and abundance vied with each
+other, and the lights were so carefully arranged that I felt quite safe:
+the zeal of my servants met every exigency and merited all praise.
+
+Evening drew on, the guests arrived, and were presented to me. The word
+MAJESTY was now dropped; but, with the deepest respect and humility, I
+was addressed as the COUNT. What could I do? I accepted the title, and
+from that moment I was known as Count Peter. In the midst of all this
+festivity my soul pined for one individual. She came late--she who was
+the empress of the scene, and wore the emblem of sovereignty on her
+brow.
+
+She modestly accompanied her parents, and seemed unconscious of her
+transcendent beauty.
+
+The Ranger of the Forests, his wife, and daughter were presented to me.
+I was at no loss to make myself agreeable to the parents; but before the
+daughter I stood like a well-scolded schoolboy, incapable of speaking
+a single word.
+
+At length I hesitatingly entreated her to honor my banquet by presiding
+at it--an office for which her rare endowments pointed her out as
+admirably fitted. With a blush and an expressive glance she entreated
+to be excused; but, in still greater confusion than herself, I
+respectfully begged her to accept the homage of the first and most
+devoted of her subjects, and one glance of the count was the same as a
+command to the guests, who all vied with each other in acting up to the
+spirit of the noble host.
+
+In her person, majesty, innocence, and grace, in union with beauty,
+presided over this joyous banquet. Minna's happy parents were elated by
+the honors conferred upon their child. As for me, I abandoned myself to
+all the intoxication of delight: I sent for all the jewels, pearls, and
+precious stones still left to me--the produce of my fatal wealth--and,
+filling two vases, I placed them on the table, in the name of the queen
+of the banquet, to be divided among her companions and the remainder of
+the ladies.
+
+I ordered gold, in the meantime, to be showered down without ceasing
+among the happy multitude.
+
+Next morning Bendel told me in confidence that the suspicions he had
+long entertained of Rascal's honesty were now reduced to a certainty;
+he had yesterday embezzled many bags of gold.
+
+"Never mind," said I; "let him enjoy his paltry booty. _I_ like to spend
+it; why should not he? Yesterday he, and all the newly-engaged servants
+whom you had hired, served me honorably, and cheerfully assisted me to
+enjoy the banquet."
+
+No more was said on the subject. Rascal remained at the head of my
+domestics. Bendel was my friend and confidant; he had by this time
+become accustomed to look upon my wealth as inexhaustible, without
+seeking to inquire into its source. He entered into all my schemes, and
+effectually assisted me in devising methods of spending my money.
+
+Of the pale, sneaking scoundrel--the unknown--Bendel only knew thus
+much, that he alone had power to release me from the curse which weighed
+so heavily on me, and yet that I stood in awe of him on whom all my
+hopes rested. Besides, I felt convinced that he had the means of
+discovering ME under any circumstances, while he himself remained
+concealed. I therefore abandoned my fruitless inquiries, and patiently
+awaited the appointed day.
+
+The magnificence of my banquet, and my deportment on the occasion, had
+but strengthened the credulous townspeople in their previous belief.
+
+It appeared soon after, from accounts in the newspapers, that the whole
+history of the King of Prussia's fictitious journey originated in mere
+idle report. But a king I was, and a king I must remain by all means;
+and one of the richest and most royal, although people were at a loss
+to know where my territories lay.
+
+The world has never had reason to lament the scarcity of monarchs,
+particularly in these days; and the good people, who had never yet seen
+a king, now fancied me to be first one, and then another, with equal
+success; and in the meanwhile I remained as before, Count Peter.
+
+Among the visitors at this watering-place a merchant made his
+appearance, one who had become a bankrupt in order to enrich himself.
+He enjoyed the general good opinion; for he projected a shadow of
+respectable size, though of somewhat faint hue.
+
+This man wished to show off in this place by means of his wealth, and
+sought to rival me. My purse soon enabled me to leave the poor devil far
+behind. To save his credit he became bankrupt again, and fled beyond the
+mountains; and thus I was rid of him. Many a one in this place was
+reduced to beggary and ruin through my means.
+
+In the midst of the really princely magnificence and profusion, which
+carried all before me, my own style of living was very simple and
+retired. I had made it a point to observe the strictest precaution; and,
+with the exception of Bendel, no one was permitted, on any pretence
+whatever, to enter my private apartment. As long as the sun shone I
+remained shut up with him; and the Count was then said to be deeply
+occupied in his closet. The numerous couriers, whom I kept in constant
+attendance about matters of no importance, were supposed to be the
+bearers of my despatches. I only received company in the evening under
+the trees of my garden, or in my saloons, after Bendel's assurance of
+their being carefully and brilliantly lit up.
+
+My walks, in which the Argus-eyed Bendel was constantly on the watch for
+me, extended only to the garden of the forest-ranger, to enjoy the
+society of one who was dear to me as my own existence.
+
+Oh, my Chamisso! I trust thou hast not forgotten what love is! I must
+here leave much to thine imagination. Minna was in truth an amiable and
+excellent maiden: her whole soul was wrapped up in me, and in her lowly
+thoughts of herself she could not imagine how she had deserved a single
+thought from me. She returned love for love with all the full and
+youthful fervor of an innocent heart; her love was a true woman's love,
+with all the devotion and total absence of selfishness which is found
+only in woman; she lived but in me, her whole soul being bound up in
+mine, regardless what her own fate might be.
+
+Yet I, alas, during those hours of wretchedness--hours I would even now
+gladly recall--how often have I wept on Bendel's bosom, when after the
+first mad whirlwind of passion I reflected, with the keenest
+self-upbraidings, that I, a shadowless man, had, with cruel selfishness,
+practised a wicked deception, and stolen away the pure and angelic heart
+of the innocent Minna!
+
+At one moment I resolved to confess all to her; then that I would fly
+for ever; then I broke out into a flood of bitter tears, and consulted
+Bendel as to the means of meeting her again in the forester's garden.
+
+At times I flattered myself with great hopes from the near approaching
+visit of the unknown; then wept again, because I saw clearly on
+reflection that they would end in disappointment. I had made a
+calculation of the day fixed on by the fearful being for our interview;
+for he had said in a year and a day, and I depended on his word.
+
+The parents were worthy old people, devoted to their only child; and our
+mutual affection was a circumstance so overwhelming that they knew not
+how to act. They had never dreamed for a moment that the COUNT could
+bestow a thought on their daughter; but such was the case--he loved and
+was beloved. The pride of the mother might not have led her to consider
+such an alliance quite impossible, but so extravagant an idea had never
+entered the contemplation of the sounder judgment of the old man. Both
+were satisfied of the sincerity of my love, and could but put up prayers
+to Heaven for the happiness of their child.
+
+A letter which I received from Minna about that time has just fallen
+into my hands. Yes, these are the characters traced by her own hand. I
+will transcribe the letter:
+
+"I am indeed a weak, foolish girl to fancy that the friend I so tenderly
+love could give an instant's pain to his poor Minna! Oh no! thou art so
+good, so inexpressibly good! But do not misunderstand me. I will accept
+no sacrifice at thy hands--none whatever. Oh heavens! I should hate
+myself! No; thou hast made me happy, thou hast taught me to love thee.
+
+"Go, then--let me not forget my destiny--Count Peter belongs not to me,
+but to the whole world; and oh! what pride for thy Minna to hear thy
+deeds proclaimed, and blessings invoked on thy idolized head! Ah! when
+I think of this, I could chide thee that thou shouldst for one instant
+forget thy high destiny for the sake of a simple maiden! Go, then;
+otherwise the reflection will pierce me. How blest I have been rendered
+by thy love! Perhaps, also, I have planted some flowers in the path of
+thy life, as I twined them in the wreath which I presented to thee.
+
+"Go, then--fear not to leave me--you are too deeply seated in my
+heart--I shall die inexpressibly happy in thy love."
+
+Conceive how these words pierced my soul, Chamisso!
+
+I declared to her that I was not what I seemed--that, although a rich,
+I was an unspeakably miserable man--that a curse was on me, which must
+remain a secret, although the only one between us--yet that I was not
+without a hope of its being removed--that this poisoned every hour of
+my life--that I should plunge her with me into the abyss--she, the light
+and joy, the very soul of my existence. Then she wept because I was
+unhappy. Oh! Minna was all love and tenderness. To save me one tear she
+would gladly have sacrificed her life. Yet she was far from
+comprehending the full meaning of my words. She still looked upon me as
+some proscribed prince or illustrious exile; and her vivid imagination
+had invested her lover with every lofty attribute.
+
+One day I said to her, "Minna, the last day in next month will decide
+my fate, and perhaps change it for the better; if not, I would sooner
+die than render you miserable."
+
+She laid her head on my shoulder to conceal her tears. "Should thy fate
+be changed," she said, "I only wish to know that thou art happy; if thy
+condition is an unhappy one, I will share it with thee, and assist thee
+to support it."
+
+"Minna, Minna!" I exclaimed, "recall those rash words--those mad words
+which have escaped thy lips! Didst thou know the misery and curse--didst
+thou know who--what--thy lover ... Seest thou not, my Minna, this
+convulsive shuddering which thrills my whole frame, and that there is
+a secret in my breast which you cannot penetrate?" She sank sobbing at
+my feet, and renewed her vows and entreaties.
+
+Her father now entered, and I declared to him my intention to solicit
+the hand of his daughter on the first day of the month after the ensuing
+one. I fixed that time, I told him, because circumstances might probably
+occur in the interval materially to influence my future destiny; but my
+love for his daughter was unchangeable.
+
+The good old man started at hearing such words from the mouth of Count
+Peter. He fell upon my neck, and rose again in the utmost confusion for
+having forgotten himself. Then he began to doubt, to ponder, and to
+scrutinize; and spoke of dowry, security, and future provision for his
+beloved child. I thanked him for having reminded me of all this, and
+told him it was my wish to remain in a country where I seemed to be
+beloved, and to lead a life free from anxiety. I then commissioned him
+to purchase the finest estate in the neighborhood in the name of his
+daughter--for a father was the best person to act for his daughter in
+such a case--and to refer for payment to me. This occasioned him a good
+deal of trouble, as a stranger had everywhere anticipated him; but at
+last he made a purchase for about L150,000.
+
+I confess this was but an innocent artifice to get rid of him, as I had
+frequently done before; for it must be confessed that he was somewhat
+tedious. The good mother was rather deaf, and not jealous, like her
+husband, of the honor of conversing with the Count.
+
+The happy party pressed me to remain with them longer this evening. I
+dared not--I had not a moment to lose. I saw the rising moon streaking
+the horizon--my hour was come.
+
+Next evening I went again to the forester's garden. I had wrapped myself
+closely up in my cloak, slouched my hat over my eyes, and advanced
+towards Minna. As she raised her head and looked at me, she started
+involuntarily. The apparition of that dreadful night in which I had been
+seen without a shadow was now standing distinctly before me--it was she
+herself. Had she recognized me? She was silent and thoughtful. I felt
+an oppressive load at my heart. I rose from my seat. She laid her head
+on my shoulder, still silent and in tears. I went away.
+
+I now found her frequently weeping. I became more and more melancholy.
+Her parents were beyond expression happy. The eventful day approached,
+threatening and heavy, like a thunder-cloud. The evening preceding
+arrived. I could scarcely breathe. I had carefully filled a large chest
+with gold, and sat down to await the appointed time--the twelfth
+hour--it struck.
+
+Now I remained with my eyes fixed on the hand of the clock, counting the
+seconds--the minutes--which struck me to the heart like daggers. I
+started at every sound--at last daylight appeared. The leaden hours
+passed on--morning--evening--night came. Hope was fast fading away as
+the hand advanced. It struck eleven--no one appeared--the last
+minutes--the first and last stroke of the twelfth hour died away. I sank
+back in my bed in an agony of weeping. In the morning I should,
+shadowless as I was, claim the hand of my beloved Minna. A heavy sleep
+towards daylight closed my eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+It was yet early, when I was suddenly awoke by voices in hot dispute in
+my ante-chamber. I listened. Bendel was forbidding Rascal to enter my
+room, who swore he would receive no orders from his equals, and insisted
+on forcing his way. The faithful Bendel reminded him that if such words
+reached his master's ears, he would turn him out of an excellent place.
+Rascal threatened to strike him if he persisted in refusing his
+entrance.
+
+By this time, having half-dressed myself, I angrily threw open the door,
+and addressing myself to Rascal, inquired what he meant by such
+disgraceful conduct. He drew back a couple of steps, and coolly
+answered: "Count Peter, may I beg most respectfully that you will favor
+me with a sight of your shadow? The sun is now shining brightly in the
+court below."
+
+I stood as if struck by a thunderbolt, and for some time was unable to
+speak. At last I asked him how a servant could dare to behave so towards
+his master. He interrupted me by saying, quite coolly, "A servant may
+be a very honorable man, and unwilling to serve a shadowless master--I
+request my dismissal."
+
+I felt that I must adopt a softer tone, and replied, "But, Rascal, my
+good fellow, who can have put such strange ideas into your head? How can
+you imagine--"
+
+He again interrupted me in the same tone--
+
+"People say you have no shadow. In short, let me see your shadow, or
+give me my dismissal."
+
+Bendel, pale and trembling, but more collected than myself, made a sign
+to me. I had recourse to the all-powerful influence of gold. But even
+gold had lost its power--Rascal threw it at my feet: "From a shadowless
+man," he said, "I will take nothing."
+
+Turning his back upon me, and putting on his hat, he then slowly left
+the room, whistling a tune. I stood, with Bendel, as if petrified,
+gazing after him.
+
+With a deep sigh and a heavy heart I now prepared to keep my engagement,
+and to appear in the forester's garden like a criminal before his judge.
+I entered by the shady arbor, which had received the name of Count
+Peter's arbor, where we had appointed to meet. The mother advanced with
+a cheerful air; Minna sat fair and beautiful as the early snow of autumn
+reposing on the departing flowers, soon to be dissolved and lost in the
+cold stream.
+
+The ranger, with a written paper in his hand, was walking up and down
+in an agitated manner, struggling to suppress his feelings--his usually
+unmoved countenance being one moment flushed and the next perfectly
+pale. He came forward as I entered, and, in a faltering voice, requested
+a private conversation with me. The path by which he requested me to
+follow him led to an open spot in the garden, where the sun was shining.
+I sat down. A long silence ensued, which even the good woman herself did
+not venture to break. The ranger, in an agitated manner, paced up and
+down with unequal steps. At last he stood still; and glancing over the
+paper he held in his hand, he said, addressing me with a penetrating
+look, "Count Peter, do you know one Peter Schlemihl?" I was silent.
+
+"A man," he continued, "of excellent character and extraordinary
+endowments."
+
+He paused for an answer. "And supposing I myself were that very man?"
+
+"You!" he exclaimed passionately; "he has lost his shadow!"
+
+"Oh, my suspicion is true!" cried Minna; "I have long known it--he has
+no shadow!" And she threw herself into her mother's arms, who,
+convulsively clasping her to her bosom, reproached her for having so
+long, to her hurt, kept such a secret. But, like the fabled Arethusa,
+her tears, as from a fountain, flowed more abundantly, and her sobs
+increased at my approach.
+
+"And so," said the ranger fiercely, "you have not scrupled, with
+unparalleled shamelessness, to deceive both her and me; and you
+pretended to love her, forsooth!--her whom you have reduced to the state
+in which you now see her. See how she weeps!--Oh, shocking, shocking!"
+
+By this time I had lost all presence of mind; and I answered,
+confusedly: "After all, it is but a shadow, a mere shadow, which a man
+can do very well without; and really it is not worth the while to make
+all this noise about such a trifle." Feeling the groundlessness of what
+I was saying, I ceased, and no one condescended to reply. At last I
+added: "What is lost to-day may be found to-morrow."
+
+"Be pleased, sir," continued the ranger, in great wrath--"be pleased to
+explain how you have lost your shadow."
+
+Here again an excuse was ready: "A boor of a fellow," said I, "one day
+trod so rudely on my shadow that he tore a large hole in it. I sent it
+to be repaired--for gold can do wonders--and yesterday I expected it
+home again."
+
+"Very well," answered the ranger. "You are a suitor my daughter's hand,
+and so are others. As a father, I am bound to provide for her. I will
+give you three days to seek your shadow. Return to me in the course of
+that time with a well-fitted shadow, and you shall receive a hearty
+welcome; otherwise, on the fourth day--remember, on the fourth day--my
+daughter becomes the wife of another."
+
+I now attempted to say one word to Minna; but, sobbing more violently,
+she clung still closer to her mother, who made a sign for me to
+withdraw. I obeyed; and now the world seemed shut out from me for ever.
+
+Having escaped from the affectionate care of Bendel, I now wandered
+wildly through the neighboring woods and meadows. Drops of anguish fell
+from my brow, deep groans burst from my bosom--frenzied despair raged
+within me.
+
+I knew not how long this had lasted, when I felt myself seized by the
+sleeve on a sunny heath. I stopped, and looking up, beheld the
+gray-coated man, who appeared to have run himself out of breath in
+pursuing me. He immediately began: "I had," said he, "appointed this
+day; but your impatience anticipated it. All, however, may yet be right.
+Take my advice--redeem your shadow, which is at your command, and return
+immediately to the ranger's garden, where you will be well received, and
+all the past will seem a mere joke. As for Rascal--who has betrayed you
+in order to pay his addresses to Minna--leave him to me; he is just a
+fit subject for me."
+
+I stood like one in a dream. "This day?" I considered again. He was
+right--I had made a mistake of a day. I felt in my bosom for the purse.
+He perceived my intention, and drew back.
+
+"No, Count Peter; the purse is in good hands--pray keep it." I gazed at
+him with looks of astonishment and inquiry. "I only beg a trifle as a
+token of remembrance. Be so good as to sign this memorandum." On the
+parchment, which he held out to me, were these words: "By virtue of this
+present, to which I have appended my signature, I hereby bequeath my
+soul to the holder, after its natural separation from my body."
+
+I gazed in mute astonishment alternately at the paper and the gray
+unknown. In the meantime he had dipped a new pen in a drop of blood
+which was issuing from a scratch in my hand just made by a thorn. He
+presented it to me. "Who are you?" at last I exclaimed. "What can it
+signify?" he answered: "do you not perceive who I am? A poor devil--a
+sort of scholar and philosopher, who obtains but poor thanks from his
+friends for his admirable arts, and whose only amusement on earth
+consists in his small experiments. But just sign this; to the right,
+exactly underneath--Peter Schlemihl."
+
+I shook my head, and replied: "Excuse me, sir; I cannot sign that."
+
+"Cannot!" he exclaimed; "and why not?"
+
+"Because it appears to me a hazardous thing to exchange my soul for my
+shadow."
+
+"Hazardous!" he exclaimed, bursting into a loud laugh. "And, pray, may
+I be allowed to inquire what sort of a thing your soul is?--have you
+ever seen it?--and what do you mean to do with it after your death? You
+ought to think yourself fortunate in meeting with a customer who, during
+your life, in exchange for this infinitely minute quantity, this
+galvanic principle, this polarized agency, or whatever other foolish
+name you may give it, is willing to bestow on you something
+substantial--in a word, your own identical shadow, by virtue of which
+you will obtain your beloved Minna, and arrive at the accomplishment of
+all your wishes; or do you prefer giving up the poor young girl to the
+power of that contemptible scoundrel Rascal? Nay, you shall behold her
+with your own eyes. Come here; I will lend you an invisible cap (he drew
+something out of his pocket), and we will enter the ranger's garden
+unseen."
+
+I must confess that I felt excessively ashamed to be thus laughed at by
+the gray stranger. I detested him from the very bottom of my soul; and
+I really believe this personal antipathy, more than principle or
+previously formed opinion, restrained me from purchasing my shadow, much
+as I stood in need of it, at such an expense. Besides, the thought was
+insupportable of making this proposed visit in his society. To behold
+this hateful sneak, this mocking fiend, place himself between me and my
+beloved, between our torn and bleeding hearts, was too revolting an idea
+to be entertained for a moment. I considered the past as irrevocable,
+my own misery as inevitable; and turning to the gray man, I said: "I
+have exchanged my shadow for this very extraordinary purse, and I have
+sufficiently repented it. For Heaven's sake, let the transaction be
+declared null and void!" He shook his head, and his countenance assumed
+an expression of the most sinister cast. I continued: "I will make no
+exchange whatever, even for the sake of my shadow, nor will I sign the
+paper. It follows, also, that the incognito visit you propose to me
+would afford you far more entertainment than it could possibly give me.
+Accept my excuses, therefore; and, since it must be so, let us part."
+
+"I am sorry, Mr. Schlemihl, that you thus obstinately persist in
+rejecting my friendly offer. Perhaps, another time, I may be more
+fortunate. Farewell! May we shortly meet again! But, a propos, allow me
+to show you that I do not undervalue my purchase, but preserve it
+carefully."
+
+So saying, he drew my shadow out of his pocket; and shaking it cleverly
+out of its folds, he stretched it out at his feet in the sun--so that
+he stood between two obedient shadows, his own and mine, which was
+compelled to follow and comply with his every movement. On again
+beholding my poor shadow after so long a separation, and seeing it
+degraded to so vile a bondage at the very time that I was so unspeakably
+in want of it, my heart was ready to burst, and I wept bitterly. The
+detested wretch stood exulting over his prey, and unblushingly renewed
+his proposal. "One stroke of your pen, and the unhappy Minna is rescued
+from the clutches of the villain Rascal, and transferred to the arms of
+the high-born Count Peter--merely a stroke of your pen!"
+
+My tears broke out with renewed violence; but I turned away from him,
+and made a sign for him to be gone.
+
+Bendel, whose deep solicitude had induced him to come in search of me,
+arrived at this very moment. The good and faithful creature, on seeing
+me weeping, and that a shadow (evidently mine) was in the power of the
+mysterious unknown, determined to rescue it by force, should that be
+necessary; and disdaining to use any finesse, he desired him directly,
+and without any disputing, to restore my property. Instead of a reply,
+the gray man turned his back on the worthy fellow, and was making off.
+But Bendel raised his buck-thorn stick; and following close upon him,
+after repeated commands, but in vain, to restore the shadow, he made him
+feel the whole force of his powerful arm. The gray man, as if accustomed
+to such treatment, held down his head, slouched his shoulders, and, with
+soft and noiseless steps, pursued his way over the heath, carrying with
+him my shadow, and also my faithful servant. For a long time I heard
+hollow sounds ringing through the waste, until at last they died away
+in the distance, and I was again left to solitude and misery.
+
+Alone on the wild heath, I disburdened my heart of an insupportable load
+by given free vent to my tears. But I saw no bounds, no relief, to my
+surpassing wretchedness; and I drank in the fresh poison which the
+mysterious stranger had poured into my wounds with a furious avidity.
+As I retraced in my mind the loved image of my Minna, and depicted her
+sweet countenance all pale and in tears, such as I had beheld her in my
+late disgrace, the bold and sarcastic visage of Rascal would ever and
+anon thrust itself between us. I hid my face, and fled rapidly over the
+plains; but the horrible vision unrelentingly pursued me, till at last
+I sank breathless on the ground, and bedewed it with a fresh torrent of
+tears--and all this for a shadow!--a shadow which one stroke of the pen
+would repurchase. I pondered on the singular proposal, and on my
+hesitation to comply with it. My mind was confused--I had lost the power
+of judging or comprehending. The day was waning apace. I satisfied the
+cravings of hunger with a few wild fruits, and quenched my thirst at a
+neighboring stream. Night came on; I threw myself down under a tree, and
+was awoke by the damp morning air from an uneasy sleep, in which I had
+fancied myself struggling in the agonies of death. Bendel had certainly
+lost all trace of me, and I was glad of it. I did not wish to return
+among my fellow-creatures--I shunned them as the hunted deer flies
+before its pursuers. Thus I passed three melancholy days.
+
+I found myself on the morning of the fourth on a sandy plain, basking
+in the rays of the sun, and sitting on a fragment of rock; for it was
+sweet to enjoy the genial warmth of which I had so long been deprived.
+Despair still preyed on my heart. Suddenly a slight sound startled me;
+I looked round, prepared to fly, but saw no one. On the sunlit sand
+before me flitted the shadow of a man not unlike my own; and wandering
+about alone, it seemed to have lost its master. This sight powerfully
+excited me. "Shadow!" thought I, "art thou in search of thy master? in
+me thou shall find him." And I sprang forward to seize it, fancying that
+could I succeed in treading so exactly in its traces as to step in its
+footmarks, it would attach itself to me, and in time become accustomed
+to me, and follow all my movements.
+
+The shadow, as I moved, took to flight, and I commenced a hot chase
+after the airy fugitive, solely excited by the hope of being delivered
+from my present dreadful situation; the bare idea inspired me with fresh
+strength and vigor.
+
+The shadow now fled towards a distant wood, among whose shades I must
+necessarily have lost it. Seeing this, my heart beat wild with fright,
+my ardor increased and lent wings to my speed. I was evidently gaining
+on the shadow--I came nearer and nearer--I was within reach of it, when
+it suddenly stopped and turned towards me. Like a lion darting on its
+prey, I made a powerful spring and fell unexpectedly upon a hard
+substance. Then followed, from an invisible hand, the most terrible
+blows in the ribs that anyone ever received. The effect of my terror
+made me endeavor convulsively to strike and grasp at the unseen object
+before me. The rapidity of my motions brought me to the ground, where
+I lay stretched out with a man under me, whom I held tight, and who now
+became visible.
+
+The whole affair was now explained. The man had undoubtedly possessed
+the bird's nest which communicates its charm of invisibility to its
+possessor, though not equally so to his shadow; and this nest he had now
+thrown away. I looked all round, and soon discovered the shadow of this
+invisible nest. I sprang towards it, and was fortunate enough to seize
+the precious booty, and immediately became invisible and shadowless.
+
+The moment the man regained his feet he looked all round over the wide
+sunny plain to discover his fortunate vanquisher, but could see neither
+him nor his shadow, the latter seeming particularly to be the object of
+his search: for previous to our encounter he had not had leisure to
+observe that I was shadowless, and he could not be aware of it. Becoming
+convinced that all traces of me were lost, he began to tear his hair,
+and give himself up to all the frenzy of despair. In the meantime, this
+newly acquired treasure communicated to me both the ability and the
+desire to mix again among mankind.
+
+I was at no loss for a pretext to vindicate this unjust robbery--or,
+rather, so deadened had I become, I felt no need of a pretext; and in
+order to dissipate every idea of the kind, I hastened on, regardless of
+the unhappy man, whose fearful lamentations long resounded in my ears.
+Such, at the time, were my impressions of all the circumstances of this
+affair.
+
+I now ardently desired to return to the ranger's garden, in order to
+ascertain in person the truth of the information communicated by the
+odious unknown; but I knew not where I was, until, ascending an eminence
+to take a survey of the surrounding country, I perceived, from its
+summit, the little town and the gardens almost at my feet. My heart beat
+violently, and tears of a nature very different from those I had lately
+shed filled my eyes. I should, then, once more behold her!
+
+Anxiety now hastened my steps. Unseen, I met some peasants coming from
+the town; they were talking of me, of Rascal, and of the ranger. I would
+not stay to listen to their conversation, but proceeded on. My bosom
+thrilled with expectation as I entered the garden. At this moment I
+heard something like a hollow laugh which caused me involuntarily to
+shudder. I cast a rapid glance around, but could see no one. I passed
+on; presently I fancied I heard the sound of footsteps close to me, but
+no one was within sight. My ears must have deceived me.
+
+It was early; no one was in Count Peter's bower--the gardens were
+deserted. I traversed all the well-known paths, and penetrated even to
+the dwelling-house itself. The same rustling sound became now more and
+more audible. With anguished feelings I sat down on a seat placed in the
+sunny space before the door, and actually felt some invisible fiend take
+a place by me, and heard him utter a sarcastic laugh. The key was turned
+in the door, which was opened. The forest-master appeared with a paper
+in his hand. Suddenly my head was, as it were, enveloped in a mist. I
+looked up, and, oh horror! the gray-coated man was at my side, peering
+in my face with a satanic grin. He had extended the mist-cap he wore
+over my head. His shadow and my own were lying together at his feet in
+perfect amity. He kept twirling in his hand the well-known parchment
+with an air of indifference; and while the ranger, absorbed in thought,
+and intent upon his paper, paced up and down the arbor, my tormentor
+confidentially leaned towards me, and whispered: "So, Mr. Schlemihl, you
+have at length accepted my invitation; and here we sit, two heads under
+one hood, as the saying is. Well, well, all in good time. But now you
+can return me my bird's nest--you have no further occasion for it; and
+I am sure you are too honorable a man to withhold it from me. No need
+of thanks, I assure you; I had infinite pleasure in lending it to you."
+He took it out of my unresisting hand, put it into his pocket, and then
+broke into so loud a laugh at my expense, that the forest-master turned
+round, startled at the sound. I was petrified. "You must acknowledge,"
+he continued, "that in our position a hood is much more convenient. It
+serves to conceal not only a man, but his shadow, or as many shadows as
+he chooses to carry. I, for instance, to-day bring two, you perceive."
+He laughed again. "Take notice, Schlemihl, that what a man refuses to
+do with a good grace in the first instance, he is always in the end
+compelled to do. I am still of opinion that you ought to redeem your
+shadow and claim your bride (for it is yet time); and as to Rascal, he
+shall dangle at a rope's end--no difficult matter, so long as we can
+find a bit. As a mark of friendship I will give you my cap into the
+bargain."
+
+The mother now came out, and the following conversation took place:
+"What is Minna doing?"--"She is weeping."--"Silly child! what good can
+that do?"--"None, certainly; but it is so soon to bestow her hand on
+another. O husband, you are too harsh to your poor child."--"No, wife;
+you view things in a wrong light. When she finds herself the wife of a
+wealthy and honorable man, her tears will soon cease; she will waken out
+of a dream, as it were, happy and grateful to Heaven and to her parents,
+as you will see."--"Heaven grant it may be so!" replied the wife. "She
+has, indeed, now considerable property; but after the noise occasioned
+by her unlucky affair with that adventurer, do you imagine that she is
+likely soon to meet with so advantageous a match as Mr. Rascal? Do you
+know the extent of Mr. Rascal's influence and wealth? Why, he has
+purchased with ready money, in this country, six millions of landed
+property, free from all encumbrances. I have had all the documents in
+my hands. It was he who outbid me everywhere when I was about to make
+a desirable purchase; and, besides, he has bills on Mr. Thomas John's
+house to the amount of three millions and a half."--"He must have been
+a prodigious thief!"--"How foolishly you talk! he wisely saved where
+others squandered their property."--"A mere livery-servant!"--"Nonsense!
+he has at all events an unexceptionable shadow."--"True, but..."
+
+While this conversation was passing, the gray-coated man looked at me
+with a satirical smile.
+
+The door opened, and Minna entered, leaning on the arm of her female
+attendant, silent tears flowing down her fair but pallid face. She
+seated herself in the chair which had been placed for her under the lime
+trees, and her father took a stool by her side. He gently raised her
+hand; and as her tears flowed afresh, he addressed her in the most
+affectionate manner:
+
+"My own dear, good child--my Minna--will act reasonably, and not afflict
+her poor old father, who only wishes to make her happy. My dearest
+child, this blow has shaken you--dreadfully, I know it; but you have
+been saved, as by a miracle, from a miserable fate, my Minna. You loved
+the unworthy villain most tenderly before his treachery was discovered:
+I feel all this, Minna; and far be it from me to reproach you for it--in
+fact, I myself loved him so long as I considered him to be a person of
+rank: you now see yourself how differently it has turned out. Every dog
+has a shadow; and the idea of my child having been on the eve of uniting
+herself to a man who... but I am sure you will think no more of him. A
+suitor has just appeared for you in the person of a man who does not
+fear the sun--an honorable man--no prince indeed, but a man worth ten
+millions of golden ducats sterling--a sum nearly ten times larger than
+your fortune consists of--a man, too, who will make my dear child
+happy--nay, do not oppose me--be my own good, dutiful child--allow your
+loving father to provide for you, and to dry up these tears. Promise to
+bestow your hand on Mr. Rascal. Speak my child: will you not?"
+
+Minna could scarcely summon strength to reply that she had now no longer
+any hopes or desires on earth, and that she was entirely at her father's
+disposal. Rascal was therefore immediately sent for, and entered the
+room with his usual forwardness; but Minna in the meantime had swooned
+away.
+
+My detested companion looked at me indignantly, and whispered: "Can you
+endure this? Have you no blood in your veins?" He instantly pricked my
+finger, which bled. "Yes, positively," he exclaimed, "you have some
+blood left!--come, sign." The parchment and pen were in my hand!...
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+I submit myself to thy judgment, my dear Chamisso; I do not seek to bias
+it. I have long been a rigid censor of myself, and nourished at my heart
+the worm of remorse. This critical moment of my life is ever present to
+my soul, and I dare only cast a hesitating glance at it, with a deep
+sense of humiliation and grief. Ah, my dear friend, he who once permits
+himself thoughtlessly to deviate but one step from the right road will
+imperceptibly find himself involved in various intricate paths, all
+leading him farther and farther astray. In vain he beholds the
+guiding-stars of heaven shining before him. No choice is left him--he
+must descend the precipice, and offer himself up a sacrifice to his
+fate. After the false step which I had rashly made, and which entailed
+a curse upon me, I had, in the wantonness of passion, entangled one in
+my fate who had staked all her happiness upon me. What was left for me
+to do in a case where I had brought another into misery, but to make a
+desperate leap in the dark to save her?--the last, the only means of
+rescue presented itself. Think not so meanly of me, Chamisso, as to
+imagine that I would have shrunk from any sacrifice on my part. In such
+a case it would have been but a poor ransom. No, Chamisso; but my whole
+soul was filled with unconquerable hatred to the cringing knave and his
+crooked ways. I might be doing him injustice; but I shuddered at the
+bare idea of entering into any fresh compact with him. But here a
+circumstance took place which entirely changed the face of things....
+
+I know not whether to ascribe it to excitement of mind, exhaustion of
+physical strength (for during the last few days I had scarcely tasted
+anything), or the antipathy I felt to the society of my fiendish
+companion; but just as I was about to sign the fatal paper, I fell into
+a deep swoon, and remained for a long time as if dead. The first sounds
+which greeted my ears on recovering my consciousness were those of
+cursing and imprecation; I opened my eyes--it was dusk; my hateful
+companion was overwhelming me with reproaches. "Is not this behaving
+like an old woman? Come, rise up, and finish quickly what you were going
+to do; or perhaps you have changed your determination, and prefer to lie
+groaning there?"
+
+I raised myself with difficulty from the ground and gazed around me
+without speaking a word. It was late in the evening, and I heard strains
+of festive music proceeding from the ranger's brilliantly illuminated
+house; groups of company were lounging about the gardens; two persons
+approached, and seating themselves on the bench I had lately occupied,
+began to converse on the subject of the marriage which had taken place
+that morning between the wealthy Mr. Rascal and Minna. All was then
+over.
+
+I tore off the cap which rendered me invisible; and my companion having
+disappeared, I plunged in silence into the thickest gloom of the grove,
+rapidly passed Count Peter's bower towards the entrance-gate; but my
+tormentor still haunted me, and loaded me with reproaches. "And is this
+all the gratitude I am to expect from you, Mr. Schlemihl--you, whom I
+have been watching all the weary day, until you should recover from your
+nervous attack? What a fool's part I have been enacting! It is of no use
+flying from me, Mr. Perverse--we are inseparable--you have my gold, I
+have your shadow; this exchange deprives us both of peace. Did you ever
+hear of a man's shadow leaving him?--yours follows me until you receive
+it again into favor, and thus free me from it. Disgust and weariness
+sooner or later will compel you to do what you should have done gladly
+at first. In vain you strive with fate!"
+
+He continued unceasingly in the same tone, uttering constant sarcasms
+about the gold and the shadow, till I was completely bewildered. To fly
+from him was impossible. I had pursued my way through the empty streets
+towards my own house, which I could scarcely recognize--the windows were
+broken to pieces, no light was visible, the doors were shut, and the
+bustle of domestics had ceased. My companion burst into a loud laugh.
+"Yes, yes," said he, "you see the state of things: however, you will
+find your friend Bendel at home; he was sent back the other day so
+fatigued, that I assure you he has never left the house since. He will
+have a fine story to tell! So I wish you a very good night--may we
+shortly meet again!"
+
+I had repeatedly rung the bell; at last a light appeared; and Bendel
+inquired from within who was there. The poor fellow could scarcely
+contain himself at the sound of my voice. The door flew open, and we
+were locked in each other's arms. I found him sadly changed; he was
+looking ill and feeble. I, too, was altered; my hair had become quite
+gray. He conducted me through the desolate apartments to an inner room,
+which had escaped the general wreck. After partaking of some
+refreshments, we seated ourselves; and, with fresh lamentations, he
+began to tell me that the gray, withered old man whom he had met with
+my shadow had insensibly led him such a zig-zag race, that he had lost
+all traces of me, and at last sank down exhausted with fatigue; that,
+unable to find me, he had returned home, when, shortly after, the mob,
+at Rascal's instigation, assembled violently before the house, broke the
+windows, and by all sorts of excesses completely satiated their fury.
+Thus had they treated their benefactor. My servants had fled in all
+directions. The police had banished me from the town as a suspicious
+character, and granted me an interval of twenty-four hours to leave the
+territory. Bendel added many particulars as to the information I had
+already obtained respecting Rascal's wealth and marriage. This villain,
+it seems--who was the author of all the measures taken against
+me--became possessed of my secret nearly from the beginning, and,
+tempted by the love of money, had supplied himself with a key to my
+chest, and from that time had been laying the foundation of his present
+wealth. Bendel related all this with many tears, and wept for joy that
+I was once more safely restored to him, after all his fears and
+anxieties for me. In me, however, such a state of things only awoke
+despair.
+
+My dreadful fate now stared me in the face in all its gigantic and
+unchangeable horror. The source of tears was exhausted within me; no
+groans escaped my breast; but with cool indifference I bared my
+unprotected head to the blast. "Bendel," said I, "you know my fate; this
+heavy visitation is a punishment for my early sins: but as for thee, my
+innocent friend, I can no longer permit thee to share my destiny. I will
+depart this very night--saddle me a horse--I will set out alone. Remain
+here, Bendel--I insist upon it: there must be some chests of gold still
+left in the house--take them, they are thine. I shall be a restless and
+solitary wanderer on the face of the earth; but should better days
+arise, and fortune once more smile propitiously on me, then I will not
+forget thy steady fidelity; for in hours of deep distress thy faithful
+bosom has been the depository of my sorrows." With a bursting heart, the
+worthy Bendel prepared to obey this last command of his master; for I
+was deaf to all his arguments and blind to his tears. My horse was
+brought--I pressed my weeping friend to my bosom--threw myself into the
+saddle, and, under the friendly shades of night, quitted this sepulchre
+of my existence, indifferent which road my horse should take; for now
+on this side the grave I had neither wishes, hopes, nor fears.
+
+After a short time I was joined by a traveller on foot, who, after
+walking for a while by the side of my horse, observed that as we both
+seemed to be travelling the same road, he should beg my permission to
+lay his cloak on the horse's back behind me, to which I silently
+assented. He thanked me with easy politeness for this trifling favor,
+praised my horse, and then took occasion to extol the happiness and the
+power of the rich, and fell, I scarcely know how, into a sort of
+conversation with himself, in which I merely acted the part of listener.
+He unfolded his views of human life and of the world, and, touching on
+metaphysics, demanded an answer from that cloudy science to the question
+of questions--the answer that should solve all mysteries. He deduced one
+problem from another in a very lucid manner, and then proceeded to their
+solution.
+
+You may remember, my dear friend, that after having run through the
+school-philosophy, I became sensible of my unfitness for metaphysical
+speculations, and therefore totally abstained from engaging in them.
+Since then I have acquiesced in some things, and abandoned all hope of
+comprehending others; trusting, as you advised me, to my own plain sense
+and the voice of conscience to direct, and, if possible, maintain me in
+the right path.
+
+Now this skilful rhetorician seemed to me to expend great skill in
+rearing a firmly-constructed edifice, towering aloft on its own
+self-supported basis, but resting on, and upheld by, some internal
+principle of necessity. I regretted in it the total absence of what I
+desired to find; and thus it seemed a mere work of art, serving only by
+its elegance and exquisite finish to captivate the eye. Nevertheless,
+I listened with pleasure to this eloquently gifted man, who diverted my
+attention from my own sorrows to the speaker; and he would have secured
+my entire acquiescence if he had appealed to my heart as well as to my
+judgment.
+
+In the meantime the hours had passed away, and morning had already
+dawned imperceptibly in the horizon; looking up, I shuddered as I beheld
+in the east all those splendid hues that announce the rising sun. At
+this hour, when all natural shadows are seen in their full proportions,
+not a fence or shelter of any kind could I descry in this open country,
+and I was not alone! I cast a glance at my companion, and shuddered
+again--it was the man in the gray coat himself! He laughed at my
+surprise, and said, without giving me time to speak: "You see, according
+to the fashion of this world, mutual convenience binds us together for
+a time; there is plenty of time to think of parting. The road here along
+the mountain, which perhaps has escaped your notice, is the only one
+that you can prudently take; into the valley you dare not descend--the
+path over the mountain would but reconduct you to the town which you
+have left--my road, too, lies this way. I perceive you change color at
+the rising sun--I have no objections to let you have the loan of your
+shadow during our journey, and in return you may not be indisposed to
+tolerate my society. You have now no Bendel; but I will act for him. I
+regret that you are not over-fond of me; but that need not prevent you
+from accepting my poor services. The devil is not so black as he is
+painted. Yesterday you provoked me, I own; but now that is all
+forgotten, and you must confess I have this day succeeded in beguiling
+the wearisomeness of your journey. Come, take your shadow, and make
+trial of it."
+
+The sun had risen, and we were meeting with passengers; so I reluctantly
+consented. With a smile, he immediately let my shadow glide down to the
+ground; and I beheld it take its place by that of my horse, and gayly
+trot along with me. My feelings were anything but pleasant. I rode
+through groups of country people, who respectfully made way for the
+well-mounted stranger. Thus I proceeded, occasionally stealing a
+side-long glance with a beating heart from my horse at the shadow once
+my own, but now, alas, accepted as a loan from a stranger, or rather a
+fiend. He moved on carelessly at my side, whistling a song. He being on
+foot, and I on horseback, the temptation to hazard a silly project
+occurred to me; so, suddenly turning my bridle, I set spurs to my horse,
+and at full gallop struck into a by-path; but my shadow, on the sudden
+movement of my horse, glided away, and stood on the road quietly
+awaiting the approach of its legal owner. I was obliged to return
+abashed towards the gray man; but he very coolly finished his song, and
+with a laugh set my shadow to rights again, reminding me that it was at
+my option to have it irrevocably fixed to me, by purchasing it on just
+and equitable terms. "I hold you," said he, "by the shadow; and you seek
+in vain to get rid of me. A rich man like you requires a shadow,
+unquestionably; and you are to blame for not having seen this sooner."
+
+I now continued my journey on the same road; every convenience and even
+luxury of life was mine; I moved about in peace and freedom, for I
+possessed a shadow, though a borrowed one; and all the respect due to
+wealth was paid to me. But a deadly disease preyed on my heart. My
+extraordinary companion, who gave himself out to be the humble attendant
+of the richest individual in the world, was remarkable for his
+dexterity; in short, his singular address and promptitude admirably
+fitted him to be the very beau ideal of a rich man's lacquey. But he
+never stirred from my side, and tormented me with constant assurances
+that a day would most certainly come when, if it were only to get rid
+of him, I should gladly comply with his terms, and redeem my shadow.
+Thus he became as irksome as he was hateful to me. I really stood in awe
+of him--I had placed myself in his power. Since he had effected my
+return to the pleasures of the world, which I had resolved to shun, he
+had the perfect mastery of me. His eloquence was irresistible, and at
+times I almost thought he was in the right. A shadow is indeed necessary
+to a man of fortune; and if I chose to maintain the position in which
+he had placed me, there was only one means of doing so. But on one point
+I was immovable: since I had sacrificed my love for Minna, and thereby
+blighted the happiness of my whole life, I would not now, for all the
+shadows in the universe, be induced to sign away my soul to this
+being--I knew not how it might end.
+
+One day we were sitting by the entrance of a cavern much visited by
+strangers who ascended the mountain; the rushing noise of a subterranean
+torrent resounded from the fathomless abyss, the depths of which
+exceeded all calculation. He was, according to his favorite custom,
+employing all the powers of his lavish fancy, and all the charm of the
+most brilliant coloring, to depict to me what I might effect in the
+world by virtue of my purse, when once I had recovered my shadow. With
+my elbows resting on my knees, I kept my face concealed in my hands, and
+listened to the false fiend, my heart torn between the temptation and
+my determined opposition to it. Such indecision I could no longer
+endure, and resolved on one decisive effort.
+
+"You seem to forget," said I, "that I tolerate your presence only on
+certain conditions, and that I am to retain perfect freedom of action."
+
+"You have but to command; I depart," was all his reply.
+
+The threat was familiar to me; I was silent. He then began to fold up
+my shadow. I turned pale, but allowed him to continue. A long silence
+ensued, which he was the first to break.
+
+"You cannot endure me, Mr. Schlemihl--you hate me--I am aware of it--but
+why?--is it, perhaps, because you attacked me on the open plain, in
+order to rob me of my invisible bird's nest? or is it because you
+thievishly endeavored to seduce away the shadow with which I had
+entrusted you--my own property--confiding implicitly in your honor? I,
+for my part, have no dislike to you. It is perfectly natural that you
+should avail yourself of every means, presented either, by cunning or
+force, to promote your own interests. That your principles also should
+be of the strictest sort, and your intentions of the most honorable
+description,--these are fancies with which I have nothing to do; I do
+not pretend to such strictness myself. Each of us is free, I to act, and
+you to think, as seems best. Did I ever seize you by the throat, to tear
+out of your body that valuable soul I so ardently wish to possess? Did
+I ever set my servant to attack you, to get back my purse, or attempt
+to run off with it from you?"
+
+I had not a word to reply.
+
+"Well, well," he exclaimed, "you detest me, and I know it; but I bear
+you no malice on that account. We must part--that is clear; also I must
+say that you begin to be very tiresome to me. Once more let me advise
+you to free yourself entirely from my troublesome presence by the
+purchase of your shadow."
+
+I held out the purse to him.
+
+"No, Mr. Schlemihl; not at that price."
+
+With a deep sigh, I said, "Be it so, then; let us part, I entreat; cross
+my path no more. There is surely room enough in the world for us both."
+
+Laughing, he replied: "I go; but just allow me to inform you how you may
+at any time recall me whenever you have a mind to see your most humble
+servant: you have only to shake your purse, the sound of the gold will
+bring me to you in an instant. In this world every one consults his own
+advantage; but you see I have thought of yours, and clearly confer upon
+you a new power. Oh this purse! it would still prove a powerful bond
+between us, had the moth begun to devour your shadow. But enough: you
+hold me by my gold, and may command your servant at any distance. You
+know that I can be very serviceable to my friends, and that the rich are
+my peculiar care--this you have observed. As to your shadow, allow me
+to say, you can only redeem it on one condition."
+
+Recollections of former days came over me; and I hastily asked him if
+he had obtained Mr. Thomas John's signature.
+
+He smiled, and said: "It was by no means necessary from so excellent a
+friend."
+
+"Where is he? for God's sake tell me; I insist upon knowing."
+
+With some hesitation, he put his hand into his pocket, and drew out the
+altered and pallid form of Mr. John by the hair of his head, whose livid
+lips uttered the awful words, "Justo judicio Dei judicatus sum; justo
+judicio Dei condemnatus sum"--"I am judged and condemned by the just
+judgment of God." I was horror-struck; and instantly throwing the
+jingling purse into the abyss, I exclaimed, "Wretch! in the name of
+Heaven, I conjure you to be gone!--away from my sight!--never appear
+before me again!" With a dark expression on his countenance, he rose,
+and immediately vanished behind the huge rocks which surrounded the
+place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+I was now left equally without gold and without shadow; but a heavy load
+was taken from my breast, and I felt cheerful. Had not my Minna been
+irrecoverably lost to me, or even had I been perfectly free from
+self-reproach on her account, I felt that happiness might yet have been
+mine. At present I was lost in doubt as to my future course. I examined
+my pockets, and found I had a few gold-pieces still left, which I
+counted with feelings of great satisfaction. I had left my horse at the
+inn, and was ashamed to return, or at all events I must wait till the
+sun had set, which at present was high in the heavens. I laid myself
+down under a shady tree and fell into a peaceful sleep.
+
+Lovely forms floated in airy measures before me, and filled up my
+delightful dreams. Minna, with a garland of flowers entwined in her
+hair, was bending over me with a smile of good-will; also the worthy
+Bendel was crowned with flowers, and hastened to meet me with friendly
+greetings. Many other forms seemed to rise up confusedly in the
+distance: thyself among the number, Chamisso. Perfect radiance beamed
+around them, but none had a shadow; and what was more surprising, there
+was no appearance of unhappiness on this account. Nothing was to be seen
+or heard but flowers and music; and love and joy, and groves of
+never-fading palms, seemed the natives of that happy clime.
+
+In vain I tried to detain and comprehend the lovely but fleeting forms.
+I was conscious, also, of being in a dream, and was anxious that nothing
+should rouse me from it; and when I did awake, I kept my eyes closed,
+in order if possible to continue the illusion. At last I opened my eyes.
+The sun was now visible in the east; I must have slept the whole night:
+I looked upon this as a warning not to return to the inn. What I had
+left there I was content to lose, without much regret; and resigning
+myself to Providence, I decided on taking a by-road that led through the
+wooded declivity of the mountain. I never once cast a glance behind me;
+nor did it ever occur to me to return, as I might have done, to Bendel,
+whom I had left in affluence. I reflected on the new character I was now
+going to assume in the world. My present garb was very
+humble--consisting of an old black coat I formerly had worn at Berlin,
+and which by some chance was the first I put my hand on before setting
+out on this journey, a travelling-cap, and an old pair of boots. I cut
+down a knotted stick in memory of the spot, and commenced my pilgrimage.
+
+In the forest I met an aged peasant, who gave me a friendly greeting,
+and with whom I entered into conversation, requesting, as a traveller
+desirous of information, some particulars relative to the road, the
+country, and its inhabitants, the productions of the mountain, etc. He
+replied to my various inquiries with readiness and intelligence. At last
+we reached the bed of a mountain-torrent, which had laid waste a
+considerable tract of the forest; I inwardly shuddered at the idea of
+the open sunshine. I suffered the peasant to go before me. In the middle
+of the very place which I dreaded so much, he suddenly stopped, and
+turned back to give me an account of this inundation; but instantly
+perceiving that I had no shadow, he broke off abruptly, and exclaimed:
+"How is this?--you have no shadow!"
+
+"Alas, alas!" said I, "in a long and serious illness I had the
+misfortune to lose my hair, my nails, and my shadow. Look, good father;
+although my hair has grown again, it is quite white; and at my age my
+nails are still very short; and my poor shadow seems to have left me,
+never to return."
+
+"Ah!" said the old man, shaking his head; "no shadow! that was indeed
+a terrible illness, sir."
+
+But he did not resume his narrative; and at the very first cross-road
+we came to left me without uttering a syllable. Fresh tears flowed from
+my eyes, and my cheerfulness had fled. With a heavy heart I travelled
+on, avoiding all society. I plunged into the deepest shades of the
+forest; and often, to avoid a sunny tract of country, I waited for hours
+till every human being had left it, and I could pass it unobserved. In
+the evenings I took shelter in the villages. I bent my steps to a mine
+in the mountains, where I hoped to meet with work underground; for
+besides that my present situation compelled me to provide for my own
+support, I felt that incessant and laborious occupation alone could
+divert my mind from dwelling on painful subjects. A few rainy days
+assisted me materially on my journey; but it was to the no small
+detriment of my boots, the soles of which were better suited to Count
+Peter than to the poor foot-traveller. I was soon barefoot, and a new
+purchase must be made. The following morning I commenced an earnest
+search in a market-place, where a fair was being held; and I saw in one
+of the booths new and second-hand boots set out for sale. I was a long
+time selecting and bargaining; I wished much to have a new pair, but was
+frightened at the extravagant price; and so was obliged to content
+myself with a second-hand pair, still pretty good and strong, which the
+beautiful fair-haired youth who kept the booth handed over to me with
+a cheerful smile, wishing me a prosperous journey. I went on, and left
+the place immediately by the northern gate.
+
+I was so lost in my own thoughts, that I walked along scarcely knowing
+how or where. I was calculating the chances of my reaching the mine by
+the evening, and considering how I should introduce myself. I had not
+gone two hundred steps, when I perceived I was not in the right road.
+I looked round, and found myself in a wild-looking forest of ancient
+firs, where apparently the stroke of the axe had never been heard. A few
+steps more brought me amid huge rocks covered with moss and saxifragous
+plants, between which whole fields of snow and ice were extended. The
+air was intensely cold. I looked round, and the forest had disappeared
+behind me; a few steps more, and there was the stillness of death
+itself. The icy plain on which I stood stretched to an immeasurable
+distance, and a thick cloud rested upon it; the sun was of a red
+blood-color at the verge of the horizon: the cold was insupportable. I
+could not imagine what had happened to me. The benumbing frost made me
+quicken my pace. I heard a distant sound of waters; and at one step more
+I stood on the icy shore of some ocean. Innumerable droves of sea-dogs
+rushed past me and plunged into the waves. I continued my way along this
+coast, and again met with rocks, plains, birch and fir forests, and yet
+only a few minutes had elapsed. It was now intensely hot. I looked
+around, and suddenly found myself between some fertile rice-fields and
+mulberry trees; I sat down under their shade, and found by my watch that
+it was just one quarter of an hour since I had left the village market.
+I fancied it was a dream; but no, I was indeed awake, as I felt by the
+experiment I made of biting my tongue. I closed my eyes in order to
+collect my scattered thoughts. Presently I heard unintelligible words
+uttered in a nasal tone; and I beheld two Chinese, whose Asiatic
+physiognomies were not to be mistaken, even had their costume not
+betrayed their origin. They were addressing me in the language and with
+the salutations of their country. I rose and drew back a couple of
+steps. They had disappeared; the landscape was entirely changed; the
+rice-fields had given place to trees and woods. I examined some of the
+trees and plants around me, and ascertained such of them as I was
+acquainted with to be productions of the southern part of Asia. I made
+one step towards a particular tree, and again all was changed. I now
+moved on like a recruit at drill, taking slow and measured steps, gazing
+with astonished eyes at the wonderful variety of regions, plains,
+meadows, mountains, steppes, and sandy deserts, which passed in
+succession before me. I had now no doubt that I had seven-leagued boots
+on my feet.
+
+I fell on my knees in silent gratitude, shedding tears of thankfulness;
+for I now saw clearly what was to be my future condition. Shut out by
+early sins from all human society, I was offered amends for the
+privation by Nature herself, which I had ever loved. The earth was
+granted me as a rich garden; and the knowledge of her operations was to
+be the study and object of my life. This was not a mere resolution. I
+have since endeavored, with anxious and unabated industry, faithfully
+to imitate the finished and brilliant model then presented to me; and
+my vanity has received a check when led to compare the picture with the
+original. I rose immediately, and took a hasty survey of this new field,
+where I hoped afterwards to reap a rich harvest.
+
+I stood on the heights of Thibet; and the sun I had lately beheld in the
+east was now sinking in the west. I traversed Asia from east to west,
+and thence passed into Africa, which I curiously examined, at repeated
+visits, in all directions. As I gazed on the ancient pyramids and
+temples of Egypt, I descried, in the sandy deserts near Thebes of the
+hundred gates, the caves where Christian hermits dwelt of old.
+
+My determination was instantly taken, that here should be my future
+dwelling. I chose one of the most secluded, but roomy, comfortable, and
+inaccessible to the jackals.
+
+I stepped over from the pillars of Hercules to Europe; and having taken
+a survey of its northern and southern countries, I passed by the north
+of Asia, on the polar glaciers, to Greenland and America, visiting both
+parts of this continent; and the winter, which was already at its height
+in the south, drove me quickly back from Cape Horn to the north. I
+waited till daylight had risen in the east of Asia, and then, after a
+short rest, continued my pilgrimage. I followed in both the Americas the
+vast chain of the Andes, once considered the loftiest on our globe. I
+stepped carefully and slowly from one summit to another, sometimes over
+snowy heights, sometimes over flaming volcanoes, often breathless from
+fatigue. At last I reached Elias's mountain, and sprang over Behring's
+Straits into Asia; I followed the western coast in its various windings,
+carefully observing which of the neighboring isles was accessible to me.
+From the peninsula of Malacca my boots carried me to Sumatra, Java,
+Bali, and Lombok. I made many attempts--often with danger, and always
+unsuccessfully--to force my way over the numerous little islands and
+rocks with which this sea is studded, wishing to find a northwest
+passage to Borneo and other islands of the Archipelago.
+
+At last I sat down at the extreme point of Lombok, my eyes turned
+towards the southeast, lamenting that I had so soon reached the limits
+allotted to me, and bewailing my fate as a captive in his grated cell.
+Thus was I shut out from that remarkable country, New Holland, and the
+islands of the southern ocean, so essentially necessary to a knowledge
+of the earth, and which would have best assisted me in the study of the
+animal and vegetable kingdoms. And thus, at the very outset, I beheld
+all my labors condemned to be limited to mere fragments.
+
+Ah! Chamisso, what is the activity of man?
+
+Frequently in the most rigorous winters of the southern hemisphere I
+have rashly thrown myself on a fragment of drifting ice between Cape
+Horn and Van Diemen's Land, in the hope of effecting a passage to New
+Holland, reckless of the cold and the vast ocean, reckless of my fate,
+even should this savage land prove my grave.
+
+But all in vain--I never reached New Holland. Each time, when defeated
+in my attempt, I returned to Lombok; and seated at its extreme point,
+my eyes directed to the southeast, I gave way afresh to lamentations
+that my range of investigation was so limited. At last I tore myself
+from the spot, and, heartily grieved at my disappointment, returned to
+the interior of Asia. Setting out at morning dawn, I traversed it from
+east to west, and at night reached the cave in Thebes which I had
+previously selected for my dwelling-place, and had visited yesterday
+afternoon.
+
+After a short repose, as soon as daylight had visited Europe, it was my
+first care to provide myself with the articles of which I stood most in
+need. First of all a drag to act on my boots; for I had experienced the
+inconvenience of these whenever I wished to shorten my steps and examine
+surrounding objects more fully. A pair of slippers to go over the boots
+served the purpose effectually; and from that time I carried two pairs
+about me, because I frequently cast them off from my feet in my
+botanical investigations, without having time to pick them up, when
+threatened by the approach of lions, men, or hyenas. My excellent watch,
+owing to the short duration of my movements, was also on these occasions
+an admirable chronometer. I wanted, besides, a sextant, a few
+philosophical instruments, and some books. To purchase these things, I
+made several unwilling journeys to London and Paris, choosing a time
+when I could be hid by the favoring clouds. As all my ill-gotten gold
+was exhausted, I carried over from Africa some ivory, which is there so
+plentiful, in payment of my purchases--taking care, however; to pick
+out the smallest teeth, in order not to overburden myself. I had thus
+soon provided myself with all that I wanted, and now entered on a new
+mode of life as a student--wandering over the globe--measuring the
+height of the mountains, and the temperature of the air and of the
+springs--observing the manners and habits of animals--investigating
+plants and flowers. From the equator to the pole, and from the new world
+to the old, I was constantly engaged in repeating and comparing my
+experiments.
+
+My usual food consisted of the eggs of the African ostrich or northern
+sea-birds, with a few fruits, especially those of the palm and the
+banana of the tropics. The tobacco-plant consoled me when I was
+depressed; and the affection of my spaniel was a compensation for the
+loss of human sympathy and society. When I returned from my excursions,
+loaded with fresh treasures, to my cave in Thebes, which he guarded
+during my absence, he ever sprang joyfully forward to greet me, and made
+me feel that I was indeed not alone on the earth. An adventure soon
+occurred which brought me once more among my fellow-creatures.
+
+One day, as I was gathering lichens and algae on the northern coast,
+with the drag on my boots, a bear suddenly made his appearance, and was
+stealing towards me round the corner of a rock. After throwing away my
+slippers, I attempted to step across to an island, by means of a rock,
+projecting from the waves in the intermediate space, that served as a
+stepping-stone. I reached the rock safely with one foot, but instantly
+fell into the sea with the other, one of my slippers having
+inadvertently remained on. The cold was intense; and I escaped this
+imminent peril at the risk of my life. On coming ashore, I hastened to
+the Libyan sands to dry myself in the sun; but the heat affected my head
+so much, that, in a fit of illness, I staggered back to the north. In
+vain I sought relief by change of place--hurrying from east to west, and
+from west to east--now in climes of the south, now in those of the
+north; sometimes I rushed into daylight, sometimes into the shades of
+night. I know not how long this lasted. A burning fever raged in my
+veins; with extreme anguish I felt my senses leaving me. Suddenly, by
+an unlucky accident, I trod upon some one's foot, whom I had hurt, and
+received a blow in return which laid me senseless.
+
+On recovering, I found myself lying comfortably in a good bed, which,
+with many other beds, stood in a spacious and handsome apartment. Some
+one was watching by me; people seemed to be walking from one bed to
+another; they came beside me, and spoke of me as NUMBER TWELVE. On the
+wall, at the foot of my bed--it was no dream, for I distinctly read
+it--on a black-marble tablet was inscribed my name, in large letters of
+gold:
+
+PETER SCHLEMIHL.
+
+Underneath were two rows of letters in smaller characters, which I was
+too feeble to connect together, and closed my eyes again.
+
+I now heard something read aloud, in which I distinctly noted the words,
+"Peter Schlemihl," but could not collect the full meaning. I saw a man
+of benevolent aspect, and a very beautiful female dressed in black,
+standing near my bed; their countenances were not unknown to me, but in
+my weak state I could not remember who they were. Some time elapsed, and
+I began to regain my strength. I was called Number Twelve, and, from my
+long beard, was supposed to be a Jew, but was not the less carefully
+nursed on that account. No one seemed to perceive that I was destitute
+of a shadow. My boots, I was assured, together with everything found on
+me when I was brought here, were in safe keeping, and would be given up
+to me on my restoration to health. This place was called the
+SCHLEMIHLIUM: the daily recitation I had heard was an exhortation to
+pray for Peter Schlemihl as the founder and benefactor of this
+institution. The benevolent-looking man whom I had seen by my bedside
+was Bendel; the beautiful lady in black was Minna. I had been enjoying
+the advantages of the Schlemihlium without being recognized; and I
+learned, further, that I was in Bendel's native town, where he had
+employed a part of my once unhallowed gold in founding an hospital in
+my name, under his superintendence, and that its unfortunate inmates
+daily pronounced blessings on me. Minna had become a widow: an unhappy
+lawsuit had deprived Rascal of his life, and Minna of the greater part
+of her property. Her parents were no more; and here she dwelt in widowed
+piety, wholly devoting herself to works of mercy.
+
+One day, as she stood by the side of Number Twelve's bed with Bendel,
+he said to her, "Noble lady, why expose yourself so frequently to this
+unhealthy atmosphere? Has fate dealt so harshly with you as to render
+you desirous of death?"
+
+"By no means, Mr. Bendel," she replied; "since I have awoke from my long
+dream, all has gone well with me. I now neither wish for death nor fear
+it, and think on the future and on the past with equal serenity. Do you
+not also feel an inward satisfaction in thus paying a pious tribute of
+gratitude and love to your old master and friend?"
+
+"Thanks be to God, I do, noble lady," said he. "Ah, how wonderfully has
+everything fallen out! How thoughtlessly have we sipped joys and sorrows
+from the full cup now drained to the last drop; and we might fancy the
+past a mere prelude to the real scene for which we now wait armed by
+experience. How different has been the reality! Yet let us not regret
+the past, but rather rejoice that we have not lived in vain. As respects
+our old friend also, I have a firm hope that it is now better with him
+than formerly."
+
+"I trust so, too," answered Minna; and so saying, she passed by me, and
+they departed.
+
+This conversation made a deep impression on me; and I hesitated whether
+I should discover myself or depart unknown. At last I decided; and,
+asking for pen and paper, wrote as follows:
+
+"Matters are indeed better with your old friend than formerly. He has
+repented; and his repentance has led to forgiveness."
+
+I now attempted to rise, for I felt myself stronger. The keys of a
+little chest near my bed were given me; and in it I found all my
+effects. I put on my clothes; fastened my botanical case round
+me--wherein, with delight, I found my northern lichens all safe--put on
+my boots, and, leaving my note on the table, left the gates, and was
+speedily far advanced on the road to Thebes.
+
+Passing along the Syrian coast, which was the same road I had taken on
+last leaving home, I beheld my poor Figaro running to meet me. The
+faithful animal, after vainly waiting at home for his master's return,
+had probably followed his traces. I stood still, and called him. He
+sprang towards me with leaps and barks, and a thousand demonstrations
+of unaffected delight. I took him in my arms--for he was unable to
+follow me--and carried him home.
+
+There I found everything exactly in the order in which I had left it;
+and returned by degrees, as my increasing strength allowed me, to my old
+occupations and usual mode of life, from which I was kept back a whole
+year by my fall into the Polar Ocean. And this, dear Chamisso, is the
+life I am still leading. My boots are not yet worn out, as I had been
+led to fear would be the case from that very learned work of
+Tieckius--De Rebus Gestis Pollicilli. Their energies remain unimpaired;
+and although mine are gradually failing me, I enjoy the consolation of
+having spent them in pursuing incessantly one object, and that not
+fruitlessly.
+
+So far as my boots would carry me, I have observed and studied our globe
+and its conformation, its mountains and temperature, the atmosphere in
+its various changes, the influences of the magnetic power; in fact, I
+have studied all living creation--and more especially the kingdom of
+plants--more profoundly than any one of our race. I have arranged all
+the facts in proper order, to the best of my ability, in different
+works. The consequences deducible from these facts, and my views
+respecting them, I have hastily recorded in some essays and
+dissertations. I have settled the geography of the interior of Africa
+and the Arctic regions, of the interior of Asia and of its eastern
+coast. My Historia Stirpium Plantarum Utriusque Orbis is an extensive
+fragment of a Flora universalis terrae and a part of my Systema Naturae.
+Besides increasing the number of our known species by more than a third,
+I have also contributed somewhat to the natural system of plants and to
+a knowledge of their geography. I am now deeply engaged on my Fauna, and
+shall take care to have my manuscripts sent to the University of Berlin
+before my decease.
+
+I have selected thee, my dear Chamisso, to be the guardian of my
+wonderful history, thinking that, when I have left this world, it may
+afford valuable instruction to the living. As for thee, Chamisso, if
+thou wouldst live amongst thy fellow-creatures, learn to value thy
+shadow more than gold; if thou wouldst only live to thyself and thy
+nobler part--in this thou needest no counsel.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stories by Foreign Authors: German
+(V.2), by Various
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+Project Gutenberg's Stories by Foreign Authors: German (V.2), by Various
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+Title: Stories by Foreign Authors: German (V.2)
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6022]
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERMAN STORIES ***
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+Produced by Nicole Apostola, Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
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+
+
+STORIES BY FOREIGN AUTHORS - GERMAN
+
+CHRISTIAN GELLERT'S LAST
+CHRISTMAS ...... BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH
+
+A GHETTO VIOLET ..... BY LEOPOLD KOMPERT
+
+THE SEVERED HAND .... BY WILHELM HAUFF
+
+PETER SCHLEMIHL..... BY ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO
+
+
+
+
+PUBLISHERS' NOTE
+
+The translations in this volume, where previously published, are used
+by arrangement with the owners of the copyrights (as specified at the
+beginning of each story). Translations made especially for the series
+are covered by its general copyright. All rights in both classes are
+reserved.
+
+
+
+
+CHRISTIAN GELLERT'S LAST CHRISTMAS
+
+BY
+
+BERTHOLD AUERBACH
+
+
+From "German Tales."
+
+1869
+
+
+Three o'clock had just struck from the tower of St. Nicholas, Leipzig,
+on the afternoon of December 22d, 1768, when a man, wrapped in a loose
+overcoat, came out of the door of the University. His countenance was
+exceedingly gentle, and on his features cheerfulness still lingered, for
+he had been gazing upon a hundred cheerful faces; after him thronged a
+troop of students, who, holding back, allowed him to precede them: the
+passengers in the streets saluted him, and some students, who pressed
+forwards and hurried past him homewards, saluted him quite
+reverentially. He returned their salutations with a surprised and almost
+deprecatory air, and yet he knew, and could not conceal from himself,
+that he was one of the best beloved, not only in the good city of
+Leipzig, but in all lands far and wide.
+
+It was Christian Furchtegott Gellert, the Poet of Fables, Hymns, and
+Lays, who was just leaving his college.
+
+When we read his "Lectures upon Morals," which were not printed until
+after his death, we obtain but a very incomplete idea of the great power
+with which they came immediately from Gellert's mouth. Indeed, it was
+his voice, and the touching manner in which he delivered his lectures,
+that made so deep an impression upon his hearers; and Rabener was right
+when once he wrote to a friend, that "the philanthropic voice" of
+Gellert belonged to his words.
+
+Above all, however, it was the amiable and pure personal character of
+Gellert which vividly and edifyingly impressed young hearts. Gellert was
+himself the best example of pure moral teaching; and the best which a
+teacher can give his pupils is faith in the victorious might, and the
+stability of the eternal moral laws. His lessons were for the Life, for
+his life in itself was a lesson. Many a victory over the troubles of
+life, over temptations of every kind, ay, many an elevation to nobility
+of thought, and to purity of action, had its origin in that
+lecture-hall, at the feet of Gellert.
+
+It was as though Gellert felt that it was the last time he would deliver
+these lectures; that those words so often and so impressively uttered
+would be heard no more from his mouth; and there was a peculiar sadness,
+yet a peculiar strength, in all he said that day.
+
+He had this day earnestly recommended modesty and humility; and it
+appeared almost offensive to him, that people as he went should tempt
+him in regard to these very virtues; for continually he heard men
+whisper, "That is Gellert!"
+
+What is fame, and what is honor? A cloak of many colors, without warmth,
+without protection: and now, as he walked along, his heart literally
+froze in his bosom, as he confessed to himself that he had as yet done
+nothing--nothing which could give him a feeling of real satisfaction.
+Men honored him and loved him: but what was all that worth? His
+innermost heart could not be satisfied with that; in his own estimation
+he deserved no meed of praise; and where, where was there any evidence
+of that higher and purer life which he would fain bring about! Then,
+again, the Spirit would comfort him and say: "Much seed is lost, much
+falls in stony places, and much on good ground and brings forth
+sevenfold."
+
+His inmost soul heard not the consolation, for his body was weak and
+sore burdened from his youth up, and in his latter days yet more than
+ever; and there are conditions of the body in which the most elevating
+words, and the cheeriest notes of joy, strike dull and heavy on the
+soul. It is one of the bitterest experiences of life to discover how
+little one man can really be to another. How joyous is that youthful
+freshness which can believe that, by a thought transferred to another's
+heart, we can induce him to become another being, to live according to
+what he must acknowledge true, to throw aside his previous delusions,
+and return to the right path!
+
+The youngsters go their way! Do your words follow after? Whither are
+they going? What are now their thoughts? What manner of life will be
+theirs? "My heart yearns after them, but cannot be with them: oh, how
+happy were those messengers of the Spirit, who cried aloud to youth or
+manhood the words of the Spirit, that they must leave their former ways,
+and thenceforth change to other beings! Pardon me, O God! that I would
+fain be like them; I am weak and vile, and yet, methinks, there must be
+words as yet unheard, unknown--oh! where are they, those words which at
+once lay hold upon the soul?"
+
+With such heavy thoughts went Gellert away from his college-gate to
+Rosenthal. There was but one small pathway cleared, but the passers
+cheerfully made way for him, and walked in the snow that they might
+leave him the pathway unimpeded; but he felt sad, and "as if each tree
+had somewhat to cast at him." Like all men really pure, and cleaving to
+the good with all their might, Gellert was not only far from contenting
+himself with work already done: he also, in his anxiety to be doing,
+almost forgot that he the inward depression easily changes to
+displeasure against every one, and the household of the melancholic
+suffers thereby intolerably; for the displeasure turns against them,--no
+one does anything properly, nothing is in its place. How very different
+is Gellert's melancholy! Not a soul suffers from it but himself, against
+himself alone his gloomy thoughts turn, and towards every other creature
+he is always kind, amiable, and obliging: he bites his lips; but when
+he speaks to any one, he is wholly good, forbearing, and self-forgetful.
+
+Whilst they were talking together, Gellert was sitting in his room, and
+had lighted a pipe to dispel the agitation which he would experience in
+opening his letters; and while smoking, he could read them much more
+comfortably. He reproached himself for smoking, which was said to be
+injurious to his health, but he could not quite give up the "horrible
+practice," as he called it.
+
+He first examined the addresses and seals of the letters which had
+arrived, then quietly opened and read them. A fitful smile passed over
+his features; there were letters from well-known friends, full of love
+and admiration, but from strangers also, who, in all kinds of
+heart-distress, took counsel of him. He read the letters full of
+friendly applause, first hastily, that he might have the right of
+reading them again, and that he might not know all at once; and when he
+had read a friend's letter for the second time, he sprang from his seat
+and cried, "Thank God! thank God! that I am so fortunate as to have such
+friends!" To his inwardly diffident nature these helps were a real
+requirement; they served to cheer him, and only those who did not know
+him called his joy at the reception of praise--conceit; it was, on the
+contrary, the truest modesty. How often did he sit there, and all that
+he had taught and written, all that he had ever been to men in word and
+deed, faded, vanished, and died away, and he appeared to himself but a
+useless servant of the world. His friends he answered immediately; and
+as his inward melancholy vanished, and the philanthropy, nay, the
+sprightliness of his soul beamed forth, when he was among men and looked
+in a living face, so was it also with his letters. When he bethought him
+of the friends to whom he was writing, he not only acquired
+tranquillity, that virtue for which his whole life long he strove; but
+his loving nature received new life, and only by slight intimations did
+he betray the heaviness and dejection which weighed upon his soul. He
+was, in the full sense of the word, "philanthropic," in the sight of
+good men; and in thoughts for their welfare, there was for him a real
+happiness and a joyous animation.
+
+When, however, he had done writing and felt lonely again, the gloomy
+spirits came back: he had seated himself, wishing to raise his thoughts
+for composing a sacred song; but he was ill at ease, and had no power
+to express that inward, firm, and self-rejoicing might of faith which
+lived in him. Again and again the scoffers and free-thinkers rose up
+before his thoughts: he must refute their objections, and not until that
+was done did he become himself.
+
+It is a hard position, when a creative spirit cannot forget the
+adversaries which on all sides oppose him in the world: they come
+unsummoned to the room and will not be expelled; they peer over the
+shoulder, and tug at the hand which fain would write; they turn images
+upside down, and distort the thoughts; and here and there, from ceiling
+and wall, they grin, and scoff, and oppose: and what was just gushing
+as an aspiration from the soul, is converted to a confused absurdity.
+
+At such a time, the spirit, courageous and self-dependent, must take
+refuge in itself and show a firm front to a world of foes.
+
+A strong nature boldly hurls his inkstand at the Devil's head; goes to
+battle with his opponents with words both written and spoken; and keeps
+his own individuality free from the perplexities with which opponents
+disturb all that has been previously done, and make the soul unsteadfast
+and unnerved for what is to come.
+
+Gellert's was no battling, defiant nature, which relies upon itself; he
+did not hurl his opponents down and go his way; he would convince them,
+and so they were always ready to encounter him. And as the applause of
+his friends rejoiced him, so the opposition of his enemies could sink
+him in deep dejection. Besides, he had always been weakly; he had, as
+he himself complained, in addition to frequent coughs and a pain in his
+loins, a continual gnawing and pressure in the centre of his chest,
+which accompanied him from his first rising in the morning until he
+slept at night.
+
+Thus he sat for a while, in deep dejection: and, as often before, his
+only wish was, that God would give him grace whereby when his hour was
+come, he might die piously and tranquilly.
+
+It was past midnight when he sought his bed and extinguished his light.
+
+And the buckets at the well go up and go down.
+
+About the same hour, in Duben Forest, the rustic Christopher was rising
+from his bed. As with steel and flint he scattered sparks upon the
+tinder, in kindling himself a light, his wife, awakening, cried:
+
+"Why that heavy sigh?"
+
+"Ah! life is a burden: I'm the most harassed mortal in the world. The
+pettiest office-clerk may now be abed in peace, and needn't break off
+his sleep, while I must go out and brave wind and weather."
+
+"Be content," replied his wife: "why, I dreamt you had actually been
+made magistrate, and wore something on your head like a king's crown."
+
+"Oh! you women; as though what you see isn't enough, you like to chatter
+about what you dream."
+
+"Light the lamp, too," said his wife, "and I'll get up and make you a
+nice porridge."
+
+The peasant, putting a candle in his lantern, went to the stable; and
+after he had given some fodder to the horses, he seated himself upon the
+manger. With his hands squeezed between his knees and his head bent
+down, he reflected over and over again what a wretched existence he had
+of it. "Why," thought he, "are so many men so well-off, so comfortable,
+whilst you must be always toiling? What care I if envy be not a
+virtue?--and yet I'm not envious, I don't grudge others being well-off,
+only I should like to be well-off too; oh, for a quiet, easy life! Am
+I not worse off than a horse? He gets his fodder at the proper time, and
+takes no care about it. Why did my father make my brother a minister?
+He gets his salary without any trouble, sits in a warm room, has no care
+in the world; and I must slave and torment myself."
+
+Strange to say, his very next thought, that he would like to be made
+local magistrate, he would in no wise confess to himself.
+
+He sat still a long while; then he went back again to the sitting-room,
+past the kitchen, where the fire was burning cheerily. He seated himself
+at the table and waited for his morning porridge. On the table lay an
+open book; his children had been reading it the previous evening:
+involuntarily taking it up, he began to read. Suddenly he started,
+rubbed his eyes, and then read again. How comes this verse here just at
+this moment? He kept his hand upon the book, and so easily had he caught
+the words, that he repeated them to himself softly with his lips, and
+nodded several times, as much as to say: "That's true!" And he said
+aloud: "It's all there together: short and sweet!" and he was still
+staring at it, when his wife brought in the smoking porridge. Taking off
+his cap, he folded his hands and said aloud:
+
+     "Accept God's gifts with resignation,
+       Content to lack what thou hast not:
+      In every lot there's consolation;
+       There's trouble, too, in every lot!"
+
+The wife looked at her husband with amazement. What a strange expression
+was upon his face! And as he sat down and began to eat, she said: "What
+is the meaning of that grace? What has to you? Where did you find it?"
+
+"It the best of all graces, the very best,--real God's word. Yes, and
+all your life you've never made such nice porridge before. You must have
+put something special in it!"
+
+"I don't know what you mean. Stop! There's the book lying there--ah!
+that's it-- and it's by Gellert, of Leipzig."
+
+"What! Gellert, of Leipzig! Men with ideas like that don't live now;
+there may have been such, a thousand years ago, in holy lands, not among
+us; those are the words of a saint of old."
+
+"And I tell you they are by Gellert, of Leipzig, of whom your brother
+has told us; in fact, he was his tutor, and haven't you heard how pious
+and good he is?"
+
+"I wouldn't have believed that such men still lived, and so near us,
+too, as Leipzig."
+
+"Well, but those who lived a thousand years ago were also once living
+creatures: and over Leipzig is just the same heaven, and the same sun
+shines, and the same God rules, as over all other cities."
+
+"Oh! yes, my brother has an apt pupil in you!"
+
+"Well, and why not? I've treasured up all he told us of Professor
+Gellert."
+
+"Professor!"
+
+"Yes, Professor!"
+
+"A man with such a proud, new-fangled title couldn't write anything like
+that!"
+
+"He didn't give himself the title, and he is poor enough withal! and how
+hard it has fared with him! Even from childhood he has been well
+acquainted with poverty: his father was a poor minister in Haynichen,
+with thirteen children; Gellert, when quite a little fellow, was obliged
+to be a copying office-clerk: who can tell whether he didn't then
+contract that physical weakness of his? And now that he's an old man,
+things will never go better with him; he has often no wood, and must be
+pinched with cold. It is with him, perhaps, as with that student of whom
+your brother has told us, who is as poor as a rat, and yet must read;
+and so in winter he lies in bed with an empty stomach, until day is far
+advanced; and he has his book before him, and first he takes out one
+hand to hold his book, and then, when that is numb with cold, the other.
+Ah! tongue cannot tell how poorly the man must live; and yet your
+brother has told me, if he has but a few pounds, he doesn't think at all
+of himself; he always looks out for one still poorer than he is, and
+then gives all away: and he's always engaged in aiding and assisting
+others. Oh! dear, and yet he is so poor! May be at this moment he is
+hungry and cold; and he is said to be in ill-health, besides."
+
+"Wife, I would willingly do the man a good turn if I could. If, now, he
+had some land, I could plough, and sow, and reap, and carry, and thresh
+by the week together for him. I should like to pay him attention in such
+a way that he might know there was at least one who cared for him. But
+his profession is one in which I can't be of any use to him."
+
+"Well, just seek him out and speak with him once; you are going to-day,
+you know, with your wood to Leipzig. Seek him out and thank him; that
+sort of thing does such a man's heart good. Anybody can see him."
+
+"Yes, yes; I should like much to see him, and hold out to him my
+hand,--but not empty: I wish I had something!"
+
+"Speak to your brother, and get him to give you a note to him."
+
+"No, no; say nothing to my brother; but it might be possible for me to
+meet him in the street. Give me my Sunday coat; it will come to no harm
+under my cloak."
+
+When his wife brought him the coat, she said: "If, now, Gellert had a
+wife, or a household of his own, one might send him something; but your
+brother says he is a bachelor, and lives quite alone."
+
+Christopher had never before so cheerfully harnessed his horses and put
+them to his wood-laden wagon; for a long while he had not given his hand
+so gayly to his wife at parting as to-day. Now he started with his
+heavily-laden vehicle through the village; the wheels creaked and
+crackled in the snow. At the parsonage he stopped, and looked away
+yonder where his brother was still sleeping; he thought he would wake
+him and tell him his intention: but suddenly he whipped up his horses,
+and continued his route. He wouldn't yet bind himself to his intention--
+perchance it was but a passing thought; he doesn't own that to himself,
+but he says to himself that he will surprise his brother with the news
+of what he has done; and then his thoughts wandered away to the good man
+still sleeping yonder in the city; and he hummed the verse to himself
+in an old familiar tune.
+
+Wonderfully in life do effects manifest themselves, of which we have no
+trace. Gellert, too, heard in his dreams a singing; he knew not what it
+was, but it rang so consolingly, so joyously! ... Christopher drove on,
+and he felt as though a bandage had been taken from his eyes; he
+reflected what a nice house, what a bonny wife and rosy children he had,
+and how warm the cloak which he had thrown over him was, and how well
+off were both man and beast; and through the still night he drove along,
+and beside him sat a spirit; but not an illusion of the brain, such as
+in olden time men conjured up to their terror, a good spirit sat beside
+him--beside the woodman who his whole life long had never believed that
+anything could have power over him but what had hands and feet.
+
+It is said that, on troublous nights, evil spirits settle upon the necks
+of men, and belabor them so that they gasp and sweat for very terror;
+quite another sort it was to-day which sat by the woodman: and his heart
+was warm, and its beating quick.
+
+In ancient times, men also carried loads of wood through the night, that
+heretics might be burned thereon: these men thought they were doing a
+good deed in helping to execute justice; and who can say how painful it
+was to their hearts, when they were forced to think: To-morrow, on this
+wood which now you carry, will shriek, and crackle, and gasp, a human
+being like yourself? Who can tell what black spirits settled on the
+necks of those who bore the wood to make the funeral-pile? How very
+different was it to-day with our woodman Christopher!
+
+And earlier still, in ancient times, men brought wood to the temple,
+whereon they offered victims in the honor of God; and, according to
+their notions, they did a good deed: for when words can no longer
+suffice to express the fervency of the heart, it gladly offers what it
+prizes, what it dearly loves, as a proof of its devotion, of the
+earnestness of its intent.
+
+How differently went Christopher from the Duben Forest upon his way! He
+knew not whether he were intending to bring a purer offering than men
+had brought in bygone ages; but his heart grew warm within him.
+
+It was day as he arrived before the gates of Leipzig. Here there met him
+a funeral-procession; behind the bier the scholars of St. Thomas, in
+long black cloaks, were chanting. Christopher stopped and raised his
+hat. Whom were they burying? Supposing it were Gellert.--Yes, surely,
+he thought, it is he: and how gladly, said he to himself, would you now
+have done him a kindness--ay, even given him your wood! Yes, indeed you
+would, and now he is dead, and you cannot give him any help!
+
+As soon as the train had passed, Christopher asked who was being buried.
+It was a simple burgher, it was not Gellert; and in the deep breath
+which Christopher drew lay a double signification: on the one hand, was
+joy that Gellert was not dead; on the other, a still small voice
+whispered to him that he had now really promised to give him the wood:
+ah! but whom had he promised?--himself: and it is easy to argue with
+one's own conscience.
+
+Superstition babbles of conjuring-spells, by which, without the
+co-operation of the patient, the evil spirit can be summarily ejected.
+It would be convenient if one had that power, but, in truth, it is not
+so: it is long ere the evil desire and the evil habit are removed from
+the soul into which they have nestled; and the will, for a long while
+in bondage, must co-operate, if a releasing spell from without is to set
+the prisoner free. One can only be guided, but himself must move his
+feet.
+
+As Christopher now looked about him, he found that he had stopped close
+by an inn; he drove his load a little aside, went into the parlor, and
+drank a glass of warmed beer. There was already a goodly company, and
+not far from Christopher sat a husbandman with his son, a student here,
+who was telling him how there had been lately quite a stir. Professor
+Gellert had been ill, and riding a well- trained horse had been
+recommended for his health. Now Prince Henry of Prussia, during the
+Seven Years' War, at the occupation of Leipzig, had sent him a piebald,
+that had died a short time ago; and the Elector, hearing of it, had sent
+Gellert from Dresden another--a chestnut--with golden bridle, blue
+velvet saddle, and gold-embroidered housings. Half the city had
+assembled when the groom, a man with iron-gray hair, brought the horse;
+and for several days it was to be seen at the stable; but Gellert dared
+not mount it, it was so young and high-spirited. The rustic now asked
+his son whether the Professor did not make money enough to procure a
+horse of his own, to which the son answered: "Certainly not. His salary
+is but one hundred and twenty-five dollars, and his further gains are
+inconsiderable. His Lectures on Morals he gives publicly, i.e., gratis,
+and he has hundreds of hearers; and, therefore, at his own lectures,
+which must be paid for, he has so many the fewer. To be sure, he has now
+and then presents from grand patrons; but no one gives him, once and for
+all, enough to live upon, and to have all over with a single
+acknowledgment."
+
+Our friend Christopher started as he heard this; he had quite made up
+his mind to take Gellert the wood: but he had yet to do it. How easy
+were virtue, if will and deed were the same thing! if performance could
+immediately succeed to the moment off burning enthusiasm! But one must
+make way over obstacles; over those that outwardly lie in one's path,
+and over those that are hidden deep in the heart; and negligence has a
+thousand very cunning advocates.
+
+How many go forth, prompted by good intentions, but let little
+hindrances turn them from their way--entirely from their way of life!
+In front of the house Christopher met other woodmen whom he knew,
+and--"You are stirring betimes!" "Prices are good to-day!" "But little
+comes to the market now!" was the cry from all sides. Christopher wanted
+to say that all that didn't concern him, but he was ashamed to confess
+that his design was, and an inward voice told him he must not lie.
+Without answering he joined the rest, and wended his way to the market;
+and on the road he thought: "There are Peter, and Godfrey, and John, who
+have seven times your means, and not one of them, I'm sure, would think
+of doing anything of this kind; why will you be the kind-hearted fool?
+Stay! what matters it what others do or leave undone? Every man shall
+answer for himself. Yes, but go to market--it is better it should be so;
+yes, certainly, much better: sell your wood--who knows? perhaps he
+doesn't want it--and take him the proceeds, or at least the greater
+portion. But is the wood still yours? You have, properly speaking,
+already given it away; it has only not been taken from your keeping...."
+
+There are people who cannot give; they can only let a thing be taken
+either by the hand of chance, or by urgency and entreaty. Christopher
+had such fast hold of possession, that it was only after sore wrestling
+that he let go; and yet his heart was kind, at least to-day it was so
+disposed, but the tempter whispered: "It is not easy to find so
+good-natured a fellow as you. How readily would you have given, had the
+man been in want, and your good intention must go for the deed." Still,
+on the other hand, there was something in him which made opposition,--an
+echo from those hours, when, in the still night, he was driving
+hither,--and it burned in him like sacred fire, and it said, "You must
+now accomplish what you intended. Certainly no one knows of it, and you
+are responsible to no one; but you know of it yourself, and One above
+you knows, and how shall you be justified?" And he said to himself,
+"I'll stand by this: look, it is just nine; if no one ask the price of
+your wood until ten o'clock, until the stroke of ten,--until it has done
+striking, I mean; if no one ask, then the wood belongs to Professor
+Gellert: but if a buyer come, then it is a sign that you need
+not--should not give it away. There, that's all settled. But how? what
+means this? Can you make your good deed dependent on such a chance as
+this? No, no; I don't mean it. But yet--yet--only for a joke, I'll try
+it."
+
+Temptation kept him turning as it were in a circle, and still he stood
+with an apparently quiet heart by his wagon in the market. The people
+who heard him muttering in this way to himself looked at him with
+wonder, and passed by him to another wagon, as though he had not been
+there. It struck nine. Can you wait patiently another hour? Christopher
+lighted his pipe, and looked calmly on, while this and that load was
+driven off. It struck the quarter, half-hour, three-quarters.
+Christopher now put his pipe in his pocket; it had long been cold, and
+his hands were almost frozen; all his blood had rushed to his heart. Now
+it struck the full hour, stroke after stroke. At first he counted; then
+he fancied he had lost a stroke and miscalculated. Either voluntarily
+or involuntarily, he said to himself, when it had finished striking,
+"You're wrong; it is nine, not ten." He turned round that he might not
+see the dial, and thus he stood for some time, with his hands upon the
+wagon-rack, gazing at the wood. He knew not how long he had been thus
+standing, when some one tapped him on the shoulder, and said, "How much
+for the load of wood?"
+
+Christopher turned round: there was an odd look of irresolution in his
+eyes as he said: "Eh? eh? what time is it?"
+
+"Half-past ten."
+
+"Then the wood is now no longer mine--at least to sell:" and, collecting
+himself, he became suddenly warm, and with firm hand turned his horses
+round, and begged the woodmen who accompanied him to point him out the
+way to the house with the "Schwarz Brett," Dr. Junius's. There he
+delivered a full load: at each log he took out of the wagon he smiled
+oddly. The wood-measurer measured the wood carefully, turning each log
+and placing it exactly, that there might not be a crevice anywhere.
+
+"Why are you so over-particular to-day, pray?" asked Christopher, and
+he received for answer:
+
+"Professor Gellert must have a fair load; every shaving kept back from
+him were a sin."
+
+Christopher laughed aloud, and the wood-measurer looked at him with
+amazement; for such particularity generally provoked a quarrel.
+Christopher had still some logs over; these he kept by him on the wagon.
+At this moment the servant Sauer came up, and asked to whom the wood
+belonged.
+
+"To Professor Gellert," answered Christopher.
+
+"The man's mad! it isn't true. Professor Gellert has not bought any
+wood; it is my business to look after that."
+
+"He has not bought it, and yet it is his!" cried Christopher.
+
+Sauer was on the point of giving the mad peasant a hearty scolding,
+raising his voice so much the louder, as it was striking eleven by St.
+Nicholas. At this moment, however, he became suddenly mute; for yonder
+from the University there came, with tired gait, a man of a noble
+countenance: at every step he made, on this side and on that, off came
+the hats and the caps of the passers-by, and Sauer simply called out,
+"There comes the Professor himself."
+
+What a peculiar expression passed over Christopher's face! He looked at
+the new- comer, and so earnest was his gaze, that Gellert, who always
+walked with his head bowed, suddenly looked up. Christopher said: "Mr.
+Gellert, I am glad to see you still alive."
+
+"I thank you," said Gellert, and made as though he would pass on; but
+Christopher stepped up closer to him, and, stretching out his hand to him, said:
+"I have taken the liberty--I should like--will you give me your hand, Mr.
+Gellert?"
+
+Gellert drew his long thin hand out of his muff and placed it in the
+hard oaken- like hand of the peasant; and at this moment, when the
+peasant's hand lay in the scholar's palm, as one felt the other's
+pressure in actual living grasp, there took place, though the mortal
+actors in the scene were all unconscious of it, a renewal of that
+healthy life which alone can make a people one.
+
+How long had the learned world, wrapped up in itself, separated from the
+fellow- men around, thought in Latin, felt as foreigners, and lived
+buried in contemplation of bygone worlds! From the time of Gellert
+commences the ever- increasing unity of good-fellowship throughout all
+classes of life, kept up by mutual giving and receiving. As the
+scholar--as the solitary poet endeavors to work upon others by lays that
+quicken and songs that incite, so he in his turn is a debtor to his age,
+and the lonely thinking and writing become the property of all; but the
+effects are not seen in a moment; for higher than the most highly gifted
+spirit of any single man is the spirit of a nation. With the pressure
+which Gellert and the peasant exchanged commenced a mighty change in
+universal life, which never more can cease to act.
+
+"Permit me to enter your room?" said Christopher, and Gellert nodded
+assent. He was so courteous that he motioned to the peasant to enter
+first; however, Sauer went close after him: be thought it must be a
+madman; he must protect his master; the man looked just as if he were
+drunk. Gellert, with his amanuensis, Godike, followed them.
+
+Gellert, however, felt that the man must be actuated by pure motives:
+he bade the others retire, and took Christopher alone into his study;
+and, as he clasped his left with his own right hand, he asked: "Well,
+my good friend, what is your business?"
+
+"Eh? oh! nothing--I've only brought you a load of wood there--a fair,
+full load; however, I'll give you the few logs which I have in my wagon,
+as well."
+
+"My good man, my servant Sauer looks after buying my wood."
+
+"It is no question of buying. No, my dear sir, I give it to you."
+
+"Give it to me? Why me particularly?"
+
+"Oh! sir, you do not know at all what good you do, what good you have
+done me; and my wife was right; why should there not be really pious men
+in our day too? Surely the sun still shines as he shone thousands of
+years ago; all is now the same as then; and the God of old is still
+living."
+
+"Certainly, certainly; I am glad to see you so pious."
+
+"Ah! believe me, dear sir, I am not always so pious; and that I am so
+disposed today is owing to you. We have no more confessionals now, but
+I can confess to you: and you have taken a heavier load from my heart
+than a wagon-load of wood. Oh! sir, I am not what I was. In my early
+days I was a high-spirited, merry lad, and out in the field, and indoors
+in the inn and the spinning-room, there was none who could sing against
+me; but that is long past. What has a man on whose head the
+grave-blossoms are growing," and he pointed to his gray head, "to do
+with all that trash? And besides, the Seven Years' War has put a stop
+to all our singing. But last night, in the midst of the fearful cold,
+I sang a lay set expressly for me--all old tunes go to it: and it seemed
+to me as though I saw a sign-post which pointed I know not whither--or,
+nay, I do know whither." And now the peasant related how discontented
+and unhappy in mind he had been, and how the words in the lay had all
+at once raised his spirits and accompanied him upon the journey, like
+a good fellow who talks to one cheerfully.
+
+At this part of the peasant's tale Gellert folded his hands in silence,
+and the peasant concluded: "How I always envied others, I cannot now
+think why; but you I do envy, sir: I should like to be as you."
+
+And Gellert answered: "I thank God, and rejoice greatly that my writings
+have been of service to you. Think not so well of me. Would God I were
+really the good man I appear in your eyes! I am far from being such as
+I should, such as I would fain be. I write my books for my own
+improvement also, to show myself as well as others what manner of men
+we should be."
+
+Laughing, the peasant replied: "You put me in mind of the story my poor
+mother used to tell of the old minister; he stood up once in the pulpit
+and said: 'My dear friends, I speak not only for you, but for myself
+also; I, too, have need of it.'"
+
+Christopher laughed outrageously when he had finished, and Gellert
+smiled, and said: "Yes, whoever in the darkness lighteth another with
+a lamp, lighteth himself also; and the light is not part of
+ourselves,--it is put into our hands by Him who hath appointed the suns
+their courses."
+
+The peasant stood speechless, and looked upon the ground: there was
+something within him which took away the power of looking up; he was
+only conscious that it ill became him to laugh so loudly just now, when
+he told the story of the old minister.
+
+A longer pause ensued, and Gellert seemed to be lost in reflection upon
+this reference to a minister's work, for he said half to himself: "Oh!
+how would it fulfil my dearest wish to be a village-pastor! To move
+about among my people, and really be one with them; the friend of their
+souls my whole life long, never to lose them out of my sight! Yonder
+goes one whom I have led into the right way; there another, with whom
+I still wrestle, but whom I shall assuredly save; and in them all the
+teaching lives which God proclaims by me. Did I not think that I should
+be acting against my duty, I would this moment choose a country life for
+the remnant of my days. When I look from my window over the country, I
+have before me the broad sky, of which we citizens know but little, a
+scene entirely new; there I stand and lose myself for half an hour in
+gazing and in thinking. Yes, good friend, envy no man in the rank of
+scholars. Look at me; I am almost always ill; and what a burden is a
+sickly body! How strong, on the contrary, are you! I am never happier
+than when, without being remarked, I can watch a dinner-table thronged
+by hungry men and maids. Even if these folks be not generally so happy
+as their superiors, at table they are certainly happier."
+
+"Yes, sir; we relish our eating and drinking. And, lately, when felling
+and sorting that wood below, I was more than usually lively; it seems
+as though I had a notion I was to do some good with it."
+
+"And must I permit you to make me a present?" asked Gellert, resting his
+chin upon his left hand.
+
+The peasant answered: "It is not worth talking about."
+
+"Nay, it might be well worth talking about; but I accept your present.
+It is pride not to be ready to accept a gift. Is not all we have a gift
+from God? And what one man gives another, he gives, as is most
+appropriately said, for God's sake. Were I your minister, I should be
+pleased to accept a present from you. You see, good friend, we men have
+no occasion to thank each other. You have given me nothing of yours, and
+I have given you nothing of mine. That the trees grow in the forest is
+none of your doing, it is the work of the Creator and Preserver of the
+world; and the soil is not yours; and the sun and the rain are not
+yours; they all are the works of His hand; and if, perchance, I have
+some healthy thoughts rising up in my soul, which benefit my fellow-men,
+it is none of mine, it is His doing. The word is not mine, and the
+spirit is not mine; and I am but an instrument in His hand. Therefore
+one man needs not to utter words of thanks to his fellow, if every one
+would but acknowledge who it really is that gives."
+
+The peasant looked up in astonishment. Gellert remarked it, and said:
+"Understand me aright. I thank you from my heart; you have done a kind
+action. But that the trees grow is none of yours, and it is none of mine
+that thoughts arise in me; every one simply tills his field, and tends
+his woodland, and the honest, assiduous toil he gives thereto is his
+virtue. That you felled, loaded, and brought the wood, and wish no
+recompense for your labor, is very thank- worthy. My wood was more
+easily felled; but those still nights which I and all of my calling pass
+in heavy thought--who can tell what toil there is in them? There is in
+the world an adjustment which no one sees, and which but seldom
+discovers itself; and this and that shift thither and hither, and the
+scales of the balance become even, and then ceases all distinction
+between 'mine' and 'thine,' and in the still forest rings an axe for me,
+and in the silent night my spirit thinks and my pen writes for you."
+
+The peasant passed both his hands over his temples, and his look was as
+though he said to himself, "Where are you? Are you still in the world?
+Is it a mortal man who speaks to you? Are you in Leipzig, in that
+populous city where men jostle one another for gain and bare existence?"
+
+Below might be heard the creaking of the saw as the wood was being
+sundered: and now the near horse neighs, and Christopher is in the world
+again. "It may injure the horse to stand so long in the cold; and no
+money for the wood! but perhaps a sick horse to take home into the
+bargain; that would be too much," he thought.
+
+"Yes, yes, Mr. Professor," said he--he had his hat under his arm, and
+was rubbing his hands--"yes, I am delighted with what I have done; and
+I value the lesson, believe me, more than ten loads of wood: and never
+shall I forget you to my dying day. And though I see you are not so poor
+as I had imagined, still I don't regret it. Oh! no, certainly not at
+all."
+
+"Eh! did you think me so very poor, then?"
+
+"Yes, miserably poor."
+
+"I have always been poor, but God has never suffered me to be a single
+day without necessaries. I have in the world much happiness which I have
+not deserved, and much unhappiness I have not, which perchance I have
+deserved. I have found much favor with both high and low, for which I
+cannot sufficiently thank God. And now tell me, cannot I give you
+something, or obtain something for you? You are a local magistrate, I
+presume?"
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"You look like it: you might be."
+
+Christopher had taken his hat into his hands, and was crumpling it up
+now; he half closed his eyes, and with a sly, inquiring glance, he
+peered at Gellert. Suddenly, however, the expression of his face
+changed, and the muscles quivered, as he said: "Sir, what a man are you!
+How you can dive into the recesses of one's heart! I have really pined
+night and day, and been cross with the whole world, because I could not
+be magistrate, and you, sir, you have actually helped to overcome that
+in me. Oh! sir, as soon as I read that verse in your book, I had an
+idea, and now I see still more plainly that you must be a man of God,
+who can pluck the heart from one's bosom, and turn it round and round.
+I had thought I could never have another moment's happiness, if my
+neighbor, Hans Gottlieb, should be magistrate: and with that verse of
+yours, it has been with me as when one calms the blood with a magic
+spell."
+
+"Well, my good friend, I am rejoiced to hear it: believe me, every one
+has in himself alone a whole host to govern. What can so strongly urge
+men to wish to govern others? What can it profit you to be local
+magistrate, when to accomplish your object you must perhaps do something
+wrong? What were the fame, not only of a village, but even of the whole
+world, if you could have no self-respect? Let it suffice for you to
+perform your daily duties with uprightness; let your joys be centred in
+your wife and children, and you will be happy. What need you more? Think
+not that honor and station would make you happy. Rejoice, and again I
+say, rejoice: 'A contented spirit is a continual feast.' I often whisper
+this to myself, when I feel disposed to give way to dejection: and
+although misery be not our fault, yet lack of endurance and of patience
+in misery is undoubtedly our fault."
+
+"I would my wife were here too, that she also might hear this; I grudge
+myself the hearing of it all alone; I cannot remember it all properly,
+and yet I should like to tell it to her word for word. Who would have
+thought that, by standing upon a load of wood, one could get a peep into
+heaven!"
+
+Gellert in silence bowed his head; and afterwards he said: "Yes, rejoice
+in your deed, as I do in your gift. Your wood is sacrificial-wood. In
+olden time--and it was right in principle, because man could not yet
+offer prayer and thanks in spirit--it was a custom and ordinance to
+bring something from one's possessions, as a proof of devotion: this was
+a sacrifice. And the more important the gift to be given, or the request
+to be granted, the more costly was the sacrifice. Our God will have no
+victims; but whatsoever you do unto one of the least of His, you do unto
+Him. Such are our sacrifices. My dear friend, from my heart I thank you;
+for you have done me a kindness, in that you have given me a real,
+undeniable proof, that my words have penetrated your heart, and that I
+do not live on for nothing: and treasure it up in your heart, that you
+have caused real joy to one who is often, very often, weighed down with
+heaviness and sorrow. You have not only kindled bright tapers upon my
+Christmas-tree, but the tree itself burns, gives light, and warms: the
+bush burns, and is not consumed, which is an image of the presence of
+the Holy Spirit, and its admonition to trust in the Most High in this
+wilderness of life, in mourning and in woe. Oh! my dear friend, I have
+been nigh unto death. What a solemn, quaking stride is the stride into
+eternity! What a difference between ideas of death in the days of
+health, and on the brink of the grave! And how shall I show myself
+worthy of longer life? By learning better to die. And, mark, when I sit
+here in solitude pursuing my thoughts, keeping some and driving away
+others, then I can think, that in distant valleys, upon distant
+mountains, there are living men who carry my thoughts within their
+hearts; and for them I live, and they are near and dear to me, till one
+day we shall meet where there is no more parting, no more separation.
+Peasant and scholar, let us abide as we are. Give me your hand--
+farewell!"
+
+And once again, the soft and the hard hand were clasped together, and
+Christopher really trembled as Gellert laid his hand upon his shoulder.
+They shook hands, and therewith something touched the heart of each more
+impressively, more completely, than ever words could touch it.
+Christopher got downstairs without knowing how: below, he threw down the
+extra logs of wood, which he had kept back, with a clatter from the
+wagon, and then drove briskly from the city. Not till he arrived at
+Lindenthal did he allow himself and his horses rest or food. He had
+driven away empty: he had nothing on his wagon, nothing in his purse;
+and yet who can tell what treasures he took home; and who can tell what
+inextinguishable fire he left behind him yonder, by that lonely scholar!
+
+Gellert, who usually dined at his brother's, today had dinner brought
+into his own room, remained quite alone, and did not go out again: he
+had experienced quite enough excitement, and society he had in his own
+thoughts. Oh! to find that there are open, susceptible hearts, is a
+blessing to him that writes in solitude, and is as wondrous to him as
+though he dipped his pen in streams of sunshine, and as if all he wrote
+were Light. The raindrop which falls from the cloud cannot tell upon
+what plant it drops: there is a quickening power in it, but for what?
+And a thought which finds expression from a human heart; an action, nay,
+a whole life is like the raindrop falling from the cloud: the whole
+period of a life endures no longer than the raindrop needs for falling.
+And as for knowing where your life is continued, how your work proceeds,
+you cannot attain to that.
+
+And in the night all was still around: nothing was astir; the whole
+earth was simple rest, as Gellert sat in his room by his lonely lamp;
+his hand lay upon an open book, and his eyes were fixed upon the empty
+air; and on a sudden came once more upon him that melancholy gloom,
+which so easily resumes its place after more than usual excitement.
+
+It is as though the soul, suddenly elevated above all, must still
+remember the heaviness it but now experienced, though that expresses
+itself as tears of joy in the eye.
+
+In Gellert, however, this melancholy had a more peculiar phase: a sort
+of timidity had rooted itself in him, connected with his weak chest, and
+that secret gnawing pain in his head; it was a fearfulness which his
+manner of life only tended to increase. Surrounded though he was by
+nothing but love and admiration in the world, he could not divest
+himself of the fear that all which is most horrible and terrible would
+burst suddenly upon him: and so he gazed fixedly before him. He passed
+his hand over his face, and with an effort concentrated his looks and
+thoughts upon surrounding objects, saying to himself almost aloud: "How
+comforting is light! Were there no light from without to illumine
+objects for us, we should perish in gloom, in the shadows of night. And
+light is a gentle friend that watches by us, and, when we are sunk in
+sorrow, points out to us that the world is still here, that it calls,
+and beckons us, and requires of us duty and cheerfulness. 'You must not
+be lost in self,' it says, 'see! the world is still here:' and a friend
+beside us is as a light which illumines surrounding objects; we cannot
+forget them, we must see them and mingle with them. How hard is life,
+and how little I accomplish! I would fain awaken the whole world to
+goodness and to love; but my voice is weak, my strength is insufficient:
+how insignificant is all I do!"
+
+And now he rose up and strode across the room; and he stood at the
+hearth where the fire was burning, made of wood given to him that very
+day, and his thoughts reverted to the man who had given it. Why had he
+not asked his name, and where he came from? Perchance he might have been
+able in thought to follow him all the way, as he drove home; and now ...
+but yet 'tis more, 'tis better as it is: it is not an individual, it is
+not So-and-so, who has shown his gratitude, but all the world by the
+mouth of one. "The kindnesses I receive," he thought, "are indeed
+trials; but yet I ought to accept them with thanks. I will try
+henceforth to be a benefactor to others as others are to me, without
+display, and with grateful thanks to God, our highest Benefactor: this
+will I do. and search no further for the why and for the wherefore." And
+once more a voice spoke within him, and he stood erect, and raised his
+arms on high. "Who knows," he thought, "whether at this moment I have
+not been in this or that place, to this or that man, a brother, a
+friend, a comforter, a saviour; and from house to house, may be, my
+spirit travels, awakening, enlivening, refreshing--yonder in the attic,
+where burns a solitary light; and afar in some village a mother is
+sitting by her child, and hearing him repeat the thoughts I have
+arranged in verse; and peradventure some solitary old man, who is
+waiting for death, is now sitting by his fireside, and his lips are
+uttering my words."
+
+"And yonder in the church, the choir is chanting a hymn of yours; could
+you have written this hymn without its vigor in your heart? Oh! no, it
+MUST be there." And with trembling he thought: "There is nothing so
+small as to have no place in the government of God! Should you not then
+believe that He suffered this day's incident to happen for your joy? Oh!
+were it so, what happiness were yours! A heart renewed." ... He moved
+to the window, looked up to heaven, and prayed inwardly: "My soul is
+with my brothers and my sisters: nay, it is with Thee, my God, and in
+humility I acknowledge how richly Thou hast blessed me. And if, in the
+kingdom of the world to come, a soul should cry to me: 'Thou didst guide
+and cheer me on to happiness eternal!' all hail! my friend, my
+benefactor, my glory in the presence of God. ... In these thoughts let
+me die, and pardon me my weakness and my sins!"
+
+"And the evening and morning were the first day."
+
+At early morning, Gellert was sitting at his table, and reading
+according to his invariable custom, first of all in the Bible. He never
+left the Bible open--he always shut it with a peaceful, devotional air,
+after he had read therein: there was something grateful as well as
+reverential in his manner of closing the volume; the holy words should
+not lie uncovered.
+
+To-day, however, the Bible was lying open when he rose. His eye fell
+upon the history of the creation, and at the words, "And the evening and
+the morning were the first day," he leaned back his head against the
+arm-chair, and kept his hand upon the book, as though he would grasp
+with his hand also the lofty thought, how night and day were divided.
+
+For a long while he sat thus, and he was wondrously bright in spirit,
+and a soft reminiscence dawned upon him; of a bright day in childhood,
+when he had been so happy, and in Haynichen, his native place, had gone
+out with his father for a walk. An inward warmth roused his heart to
+quicker pulsation; and suddenly he started and looked about him: he had
+been humming a tune.
+
+Up from the street came the busy sound of Jay: at other times how
+insufferable he had found it! and now how joyous it seemed that men
+should bestir themselves, and turn to all sorts of occupations! There
+was a sound of crumbling snow: and how nice to have a house and a blaze
+upon the hearth! "And the evening and the morning were the first day!"
+And man getteth himself a light in the darkness: but how long, O man!
+could you make it endure? What could you do with your artificial light,
+if God did not cause His sun to shine? Without it grows no grass, no
+corn. On the hand lying upon the book there fell a bright sunbeam. How
+soon, at other times, would Gellert have drawn the defensive curtain!
+Now he watches the little motes that play about in the sunbeam.
+
+The servant brought coffee, and the amanuensis, Godike, asked if there
+were anything to do. Generally, Gellert scarce lifted his head from his
+books, hastily acknowledging the attention and reading on in silence;
+to-day, he motioned to Godike to stay, and said to Sauer, "Another cup:
+Mr. Godike will take coffee with me. God has given me a day of
+rejoicing." Sauer brought the cup, and Gellert said: "Yes, God has given
+me a day of rejoicing, and what I am most thankful for is, that He has
+granted me strength to thank Him with all my heart: not so entirely,
+however, as I should like."
+
+"Thank God, Mr. Professor, that you are once more in health, and
+cheerful: and permit me, Mr. Professor, to tell you that I was myself
+also ill a short time ago, and I then learned a lesson which I shall
+never forget. Who is most grateful? The convalescent. He learns to love
+God and His beautiful world anew; he is grateful for everything, and
+delighted with everything. What a flavor has his first cup of coffee!
+How he enjoys his first walk outside the house, outside the gate! The
+houses, the trees, all give us greeting: all is again in us full of
+health and joy!" So said Godike, and Gellert rejoined:
+
+"You are a good creature, and have just spoken good words. Certainly,
+the convalescent is the most grateful. We are, however, for the most
+part, sick in spirit, and have not strength to recover: and a sickly,
+stricken spirit is the heaviest pain."
+
+Long time the two sat quietly together: it struck eight. Gellert started
+up, and cried irritably: "There, now, you have allowed me to forget that
+I must be on my way to the University."
+
+"The vacation has begun: Mr. Professor has no lecture to-day."
+
+"No lecture to-day? Ah! and I believe today is just the time when I
+could have told my young friends something that would have benefited
+them for their whole lives."
+
+There was a shuffling of many feet outside the door: the door opened,
+and several boys from St Thomas' School-choir advanced and sang to
+Gellert some of his own hymns; and as they chanted the verse--
+
+    "And haply there--oh! grant it, Heaven!
+      Some blessed saint will greet me too;
+    'All hail! all hail! to you was given
+      To save my life and soul, to you!'
+     O God! my God! what joy to be
+      The winner of a soul to thee!"
+
+Gellert wept aloud, folded his hands, and raised his eyes to heaven.
+
+A happier Christmas than that of 1768 had Gellert never seen; and it was
+his last. Scarcely a year after, on the 13th of December, 1769, Gellert
+died a pious, tranquil death, such as he had ever coveted.
+
+As the long train which followed his bier moved to the churchyard of St.
+John's, Leipzig, a peasant with his wife and children in holiday clothes
+entered among the last. It was Christopher with his family. The whole
+way he had been silent: and whilst his wife wept passionately at the
+pastor's touching address, it was only by the working of his features
+that Christopher showed how deeply moved he was.
+
+But on the way home he said: "I am glad I did him a kindness in his
+lifetime; it would now be too late."
+
+The summer after, when he built a new house, he had this verse placed
+upon it as an inscription:
+
+    "Accept God's gifts with resignation,
+      Content to lack what thou hast not:
+     In every lot there's consolation;
+      There's trouble, too, in every lot."
+
+
+
+
+A GHETTO VIOLET
+
+BY
+
+LEOPOLD KOMPERT
+
+
+From "Christian and Leah." Translated by A.S. Arnold.
+
+
+Through the open window came the clear trill of a canary singing
+blithely in its cage. Within the tidy, homely little room a pale-faced
+girl and a youth of slender frame listened intently while the bird sang
+its song. The girl was the first to break the silence.
+
+"Ephraim, my brother!" she said.
+
+"What is it, dear Viola?"
+
+"I wonder does the birdie know that it is the Sabbath to-day?"
+
+"What a child you are!" answered Ephraim.
+
+"Yes, that's always the way; when you clever men can't explain a thing,
+you simply dismiss the question by calling it childish," Viola
+exclaimed, as though quite angry. "And, pray, why shouldn't the bird
+know? The whole week it scarcely sang a note: to-day it warbles and
+warbles so that it makes my head ache. And what's the reason? Every
+Sabbath it's just the same, I notice it regularly. Shall I tell you what
+my idea is?
+
+"The whole week long the little bird looks into our room and sees
+nothing but the humdrum of work-a-day life. To-day it sees the bright
+rays of the Sabbath lamp and the white Sabbath cloth upon the table.
+Don't you think I'm right, Ephraim?"
+
+"Wait, dear Viola," said Ephraim, and he went to the cage.
+
+The bird's song suddenly ceased.
+
+"Now you've spoilt its Sabbath!" cried the girl, and she was so excited
+that the book which had been lying upon her lap fell to the ground.
+
+Ephraim turned towards her; he looked at her solemnly, and said quietly:
+
+"Pick up your prayer-book first, and then I'll answer. A holy book
+should not be on the ground like that. Had our mother dropped her
+prayer-book, she would have kissed it ... Kiss it, Viola, my child!"
+
+Viola did so.
+
+"And now I'll tell you, dear Viola, what I think is the reason why the
+bird sings so blithely to-day ... Of course, I don't say I'm right."
+
+Viola's brown eyes were fixed inquiringly upon her brother's face.
+
+"How seriously you talk to-day," she said, making a feeble attempt at a smile.
+"I was only joking. Mustn't I ask if the bird knows anything about the Sabbath?"
+
+"There are subjects it is sinful to joke about, and this may be one of
+them, Viola."
+
+"You really quite frighten me, Ephraim."
+
+"You little goose, I don't want to frighten you," said Ephraim, while
+a faint flush suffused his features. "I'll tell you my opinion about the
+singing of the bird. I think, dear Viola, that our little canary knows
+... that before long it will change its quarters."
+
+"You're surely not going to sell it or give it away?" cried the girl,
+in great alarm; and springing to her feet, she quickly drew her brother
+away from the cage.
+
+"No, I'm not going to sell it nor give it away," said Ephraim, whose
+quiet bearing contrasted strongly with his sister's excitement. "Is it
+likely that I should do anything that would give you pain? And yet, I
+have but to say one word ... and I'll wager that you will be the first
+to open the cage and say to the bird, 'Fly, fly away, birdie, fly away
+home!'"
+
+"Never, never!" cried the girl.
+
+"Viola," said Ephraim beseechingly, "I have taken a vow. Surely you
+would not have me break it?"
+
+"A vow?" asked his sister.
+
+"Viola," Ephraim continued, as he bent his head down to the girl's face,
+"I have vowed to myself that whenever he ... our father ... should
+return, I would give our little bird its freedom. It shall be free, free
+as he will be."
+
+"Ephraim!"
+
+"He is coming--he is already on his way home."
+
+Viola flung her arms round her brother's neck. For a long time brother
+and sister remained locked in a close embrace.
+
+Meanwhile the bird resumed its jubilant song.
+
+"Do you hear how it sings again?" said Ephraim; and he gently stroked
+his sister's hair.
+
+"It knows that it will soon be free."
+
+"A father out of jail!" sobbed Viola, as she released herself from her
+brother's arms.
+
+"He has had his punishment, dear Viola!" said Ephraim softly.
+
+Viola turned away. There was a painful silence, and then she looked up
+at her brother again. Her face was aglow, her eyes sparkled with a
+strange fire; she was trembling with agitation. Never before had Ephraim
+seen her thus.
+
+"Ephraim, my brother," she commenced, in that measured monotone so
+peculiar to intense emotion, "with the bird you can do as you please.
+You can set it free, or, if you like, you can wring its neck. But as for
+him, I'll never look in his face again, from me he shall not have a word
+of welcome. He broke our mother's heart ... our good, good mother; he
+has dishonored himself and us. And I can never forget it."
+
+"Is it right for a child to talk like that of her own father?" said
+Ephraim in a tremulous voice.
+
+"When a child has good cause to be ashamed of her own father!" cried
+Viola.
+
+"Oh, my Viola, you must have forgotten dear mother's dying words. Don't
+you remember, as she opened her eyes for the last time, how she gathered
+up her failing strength, and raising herself in her bed, 'Children,' she
+said, 'my memory will protect you both, yea, and your father too.'
+Viola, have you forgotten?"
+
+Had you entered that little room an hour later, a touching sight would
+have met your eyes. Viola was seated on her brother's knee, her arms
+round his neck, whilst Ephraim with the gentle love of a brother for a
+younger sister, was stroking her hair, and whispering in her ear sweet
+words of solace.
+
+The bird-cage was empty. ... That evening Ephraim sat up till midnight.
+Outside in the Ghetto reigned the stillness of night.
+
+All at once Ephraim rose from his chair, walked to the old bureau which
+stood near the door, opened it, and took from it a bulky volume, which
+he laid upon the table in front of him. But he did not seem at all bent
+upon reading. He began fingering the pages, until he came upon a bundle
+of bank-notes, and these he proceeded to count, with a whispering
+movement of his lips. He had but three or four more notes still to
+count, when his sharp ear detected the sound of stealthy footsteps, in
+the little courtyard in front of the house. Closing the book, and
+hastily putting it back again in the old bureau, Ephraim sprang to the
+window and opened it.
+
+"Is that you, father?" he cried.
+
+There was no answer.
+
+Ephraim repeated his question.
+
+He strained his eyes, peering into the dense darkness, but no living
+thing could he see. Then quite close to him a voice cried: "Make no
+noise ... and first put out the light."
+
+"Heavens! Father, it is you then ... !" Ephraim exclaimed.
+
+"Hush!" came in a whisper from without, "first put out the light."
+
+Ephraim closed the window, and extinguished the light. Then, with almost
+inaudible step, he walked out of the room into the dark passage;
+noiselessly he proceeded to unbolt the street-door. Almost at the same
+moment a heavy hand clasped his own.
+
+"Father, father!" Ephraim cried, trying to raise his parent's hand to
+his lips.
+
+"Make no noise," the man repeated, in a somewhat commanding tone.
+
+With his father's hand in his, cautiously feeling his way, Ephraim led
+him into the room. In the room adjoining lay Viola, sleeping peacefully.
+...
+
+Time was when "Wild" Ascher's welcome home had been far otherwise.
+Eighteen years before, upon that very threshold which he now crossed
+with halting, stealthy steps, as of a thief in the night, stood a fair
+and loving wife, holding a sturdy lad aloft in her arms, so that the
+father might at once see, as he turned the street corner, that wife and
+child were well and happy. Not another Ghetto in all Bohemia could show
+a handsomer and happier couple than Ascher and his wife. "Wild" Ascher
+was one of those intrepid, venturesome spirits, to whom no obstacle is
+so great that it cannot be surmounted. And the success which crowned his
+long, persistent wooing was often cited as striking testimony to his
+indomitable will. Gudule was famous throughout the Ghetto as "the girl
+with the wonderful eyes," eyes--so the saying ran--into which no man
+could look and think of evil. During the earlier years of their married
+life those unfathomable brown eyes exercised on Ascher the full power
+of their fascination. A time came, however, when he alleged that those
+very eyes had been the cause of all his ruin.
+
+Gudule's birthplace was far removed from the Ghetto, where Ascher had
+first seen the light. Her father was a wealthy farmer in a secluded
+village in Lower Bohemia. But distant though it was from the nearest
+town of any importance, the solitary grange became the centre of
+attraction to all the young swains far and near. But there was none who
+found favor in Gudule's eyes save "Wild Ascher," in spite of many a
+friendly warning to beware of him. One day, just before the betrothal
+of the young people, an anonymous letter was delivered at the grange.
+The writer, who called himself an old friend, entreated the farmer to
+prevent his dear child from becoming the wife of one who was suspected
+of being a gambler. The farmer was of an easy-going, indulgent nature,
+shunning care and anxiety as a very plague. Accordingly, no sooner had
+he read the anonymous missive than he handed it to his daughter, as
+though its contents were no concern of his.
+
+When Gudule had read the letter to the end, she merely remarked:
+"Father, this concerns me, and nobody else."
+
+And so the matter dropped.
+
+Not until the wedding-day, half an hour before the ceremony, when the
+marriage canopy had already been erected in the courtyard, did the
+farmer sum up courage to revert to the warning of the unknown
+letter-writer. Taking his future son-in- law aside, he said:
+
+"Ascher, is it true that you gamble?"
+
+"Father," Ascher answered with equal firmness, "Gudule's eyes will save
+me!" Ascher had uttered no untruth when he gave his father-in-law this
+assurance. He spoke in all earnestness, for like every one else he knew
+the magnetic power of Gudule's eyes.
+
+Nowhere, probably, does the grim, consuming pestilence of gaming claim
+more victims than in the Ghetto. The ravages of drink and debauchery are
+slight indeed; but the tortuous streets can show too many a humble home
+haunted by the spectres of ruin and misery which stalked across the
+threshold when the FIRST CARD GAME was played.
+
+It was with almost feverish anxiety that the eyes of the Ghetto were
+fixed upon the development of a character like Ascher's; they followed
+his every step with the closest attention. Long experience had taught
+the Ghetto that no gambler could be trusted.
+
+As though conscious that all eyes were upon him, Ascher showed himself
+most punctilious in the discharge of even the minutest of communal
+duties which devolved upon him as a denizen of the Ghetto, and his
+habits of life were almost ostentatiously regular and decorous. His
+business had prospered, and Gudule had borne him a son.
+
+"Well, Gudule, my child," the farmer asked his daughter on the day when
+his grandson was received into the covenant of Abraham,--"well, Gudule,
+was the letter right?"
+
+"What letter?" asked Gudule.
+
+"That in which your husband was called a gambler."
+
+"And can you still give a thought to such a letter?" was Gudule's
+significant reply.
+
+Three years later, Gudule's father came to visit her. This time she
+showed him his second grandchild, her little Viola. He kissed the
+children, and round little Viola's neck clasped three rows of pearls,
+"that the child may know it had a grandfather once."
+
+"And where are your pearls, Gudule?" he asked, "those left you by your
+mother,-- may she rest in peace! She always set such store by them."
+
+"Those, father?" Gudule replied, turning pale; "oh, my husband has taken
+them to a goldsmith in Prague. They require a new clasp."
+
+"I see," remarked her father. Notwithstanding his limited powers of
+observation, it did not escape the old man's eyes that Gudule looked
+alarmingly wan and emaciated. He saw it, and it grieved his very soul.
+He said nothing however: only, when leaving, and after he had kissed the
+Mezuza [Footnote: Small cylinder inclosing a roll of parchment inscribed
+with the Hebrew word Shadai (Almighty) and with other texts, which is
+affixed to the lintel of every Jewish house.], he said to Gudule (who,
+with little Viola in her arms, went with him to the door), in a voice
+quivering with suppressed emotion: "Gudule, my child, the pearl necklet
+which I have given your little Viola has a clasp strong enough to last
+a hundred years ... you need never, therefore, give it to your husband
+to have a new clasp made for it." And without bestowing another glance
+upon his child the easy-going man left the house. It was his last visit.
+Within the year Gudule received a letter from her eldest brother telling
+her that their father was dead, and that she would have to keep the week
+of mourning for him. Ever since his last visit to her--her brother
+wrote--the old man had been somewhat ailing, but knowing his vigorous
+constitution, they had paid little heed to his complaints. It was only
+during the last few weeks that a marked loss of strength had been
+noticed. This was followed by fever and delirium. Whenever he was asked
+whether he would not like to see Gudule, his only answer was: "She must
+not give away the clasp of little Viola's necklet." And but an hour
+before his death, he raised his voice, and loudly called for "the
+letter." Nobody knew what letter. "Gudule knows where it is," he said,
+with a gentle shake of his head. Those were the last words he spoke.
+
+Had the old man's eyes deceived him on the occasion of his last visit
+to his son-in-law's house? No! For, setting aside the incident of the
+missing pearls, the whole Ghetto could long since have told him that the
+warning of the anonymous letter was not unfounded--for Gudule was the
+wife of a gambler.
+
+With the resistless impetuosity of a torrent released from its prison
+of ice and snow, the old invincible disease had again overwhelmed its
+victim. Gudule noticed the first signs of it when one day her husband
+returned home from one of his business journeys earlier than he had
+arranged. Gudule had not expected him.
+
+"Why did you not come to meet me with the children?" he cried peevishly;
+"do you begrudge me even that pleasure?"
+
+"_I_ begrudge you a pleasure?" Gudule ventured to remark, as she raised
+her swimming eyes to his face.
+
+"Why do you look at me so tearfully?" he almost shouted.
+
+Ascher loved his wife, and when he saw the effect which his rough words
+had produced, he tenderly embraced her. "Am I not right, Gudule?" he
+said, "after a man has been working and slaving the livelong week, don't
+you think he looks forward with longing eyes for his dear children to
+welcome him at his door?"
+
+At that moment Gudule felt the long latent suspicion revive in her that
+her husband was not speaking the truth. As if written in characters of
+fire, the words of that letter now came back to her memory; she knew now
+what was the fate that awaited her and her children.
+
+Thenceforward, all the characteristic tokens of a gambler's life, all
+the vicissitudes which attend his unholy calling, followed close upon
+each other in grim succession. Most marked was the disturbance which his
+mental equilibrium was undergoing. Fits of gloomy despondency were
+succeeded, with alarming rapidity, by periods of tumultuous exaltation.
+One moment it would seem as though Gudule and the children were to him
+the living embodiment of all that was precious and lovable, whilst at
+other times he would regard them with sullen indifference. It soon
+became evident to Gudule that her husband's affairs were in a very bad
+way, for her house-keeping allowance no longer came to her with its
+wonted regularity. But what grieved and alarmed her most, was the fact
+that Ascher was openly neglecting every one of his religious duties. To
+return home late on Friday night, long after sunset had ushered in the
+Sabbath, was now a common practice. Once even it happened, that with his
+clothes covered with dust, he came home from one of his business tours
+on a Sabbath morning, when the people in holiday attire were wending
+their way to the synagogue.
+
+Nevertheless, not a sound of complaint escaped Gudule's lips. Hers was
+one of those proud, sensitive natures, such as are to be met with among
+all classes and amid all circumstances of life, in Ghetto and in
+secluded village, no less than among the most favored ones of the earth.
+Had she not cast to the winds the well-intentioned counsel given her in
+that unsigned letter? Why then should she complain and lament, now that
+the seed had borne fruit? She shrank from alluding before her husband
+to the passion which day by day, nay, hour by hour, tightened its hold
+upon him. She would have died sooner than permit the word "gambler" to
+pass her lips. Besides, did not her eyes tell Ascher what she suffered?
+Those very eyes were, according to Ascher, the cause of his rapid
+journey along the road to ruin.
+
+"Why do you look at me so, Gudule?" he would testily ask her, at the
+slightest provocation.
+
+Often when, as he explained, he had had "a specially good week," he
+would bring home the costliest gifts for his children. Gudule, however,
+made no use whatever of these trinkets, neither for herself nor for the
+children. She put the things away in drawers and cupboards, and never
+looked at them, more especially as she observed that, under some pretext
+or another, Ascher generally took those glittering things away again,
+"in order to exchange them for others," he said: as often as not never
+replacing them at all.
+
+"Gudule!" he said one day, when he happened to be in a particularly good
+humor, "why do you let the key remain in the door of that bureau where
+you keep so many valuables?"
+
+And again Gudule regarded him with those unfathomable eyes.
+
+"There, you're ... looking at me again!" he exclaimed with sudden
+vehemence.
+
+"They're safe enough in the cupboard," Gudule said, smiling, "why should
+I lock it?"
+
+"Gudule, do you mean to say ..." he cried, raising his hand as for a
+blow. Then he fell back in his chair, and his frame was shaken with
+sobs.
+
+"Gudule, my heart's love," he cried, "I am not worthy that your eyes
+should rest on me. Everywhere, wherever I go, they look at me, those
+eyes ... and that is my ruin. If business is bad. your eyes ask me, 'Why
+did you mix yourself up with these things, without a thought of wife or
+children?'... Then I feel as if some evil spirit possessed me and
+tortured my soul. Oh, why can't you look at me again as you did when you
+were my bride?--then you looked so happy, so lovely! At other times I
+think: 'I shall yet grasp fortune with both hands ... and then I can
+face my Gudule's eyes again.' But now, now ... oh, don't look at me,
+Gudule!"
+
+There spoke the self-reproaching voice, which sometimes burst forth
+unbidden from a suffering soul.
+
+As for Gudule, she already knew how to appreciate this cry of her
+husband's conscience at its true value. It was not that she felt one
+moment's doubt as to its sincerity, but she knew dot so far as it
+affected the future, it was a mere cry and nothing more.
+
+The years rolled on. The children were growing up. Ephraim had entered
+his fifteenth year. Viola was a little pale girl of twelve. In opinion
+of the Ghetto they were the most extraordinary children in the world.
+In the midst of the harassing life to which her marriage with the
+gambler had brought her, Gudule so reared them that they grew to be
+living reflections of her own inmost being. People wondered when they
+beheld the strange development of "Wild" Ascher's children.
+
+Their natures were as proud and reserved as that of their mother. They
+did not associate with the youth of the Ghetto; it seemed as though they
+were not of their kind, as though an insurmountable barrier divided
+them. And many a bitter sneer was hurled at Gudule's head.
+
+"Does she imagine," she often heard people whisper, "that because her
+father was a farmer her children are princes? Let her remember that her
+husband is but a common gambler."
+
+How different would have been their thoughts had they known that the
+children were Gudule's sole comfort. What their father had never heard
+from her, she poured into their youthful souls. No tear their mother
+shed was unobserved by them; they knew when their father had lost and
+when he had won; they knew, too, all the varying moods of his unhinged
+mind; and in this terrible school of misery they acquired an instinctive
+intelligence, which in the eyes of strangers seemed mere precocity.
+
+The two children, however, had early given evidence of a marked
+difference in disposition. Ephraim's nature was one of an almost
+feminine gentleness, whilst Viola was strong-willed and proudly
+reserved.
+
+"Mother," she said one day, "do you think he will continue to play much
+longer?"
+
+"Viola, how can you talk like that?" Ephraim cried, greatly disturbed.
+
+Thereupon Viola impetuously flung her arms round her mother's neck, and
+for some moments she clung to her with all the strength of her
+passionate nature. It was as though in that wild embrace she would fain
+pour forth the long pent-up sorrows of her blighted childhood.
+
+"Mother!" she cried, "you are so good to him. Never, never shall he have
+such kindness from me!"
+
+"Ephraim," said Gudule, "speak to your sister. In her sinful anger,
+Viola would revenge herself upon her own father. Does it so beseem a
+Jewish child?"
+
+"Why does he treat you so cruelly, then?" Viola almost hissed the words.
+
+Soon after fell the final crushing blow. Ascher had been away from home
+for some weeks, when one day Gudule received a letter, dated a prison
+in the neighborhood of Vienna. In words of genuine sympathy the writer
+explained that Ascher had been unfortunate enough to forge the signature
+to a bill. She would not see him again for the next five years. God
+comfort her! The letter was signed: "A fellow-sufferer with your
+husband."
+
+As it had been with her old father, after he had bidden her a last
+farewell, so it was now with Gudule. From that moment her days were
+numbered, and although not a murmur escaped her lips, hour by hour she
+wasted away.
+
+One Friday evening, shortly after the seven-branched Sabbath lamp had
+been lit, Gudule, seated in her arm-chair, out of which she had not
+moved all day, called the two children to her. A bright smile hovered
+around her lips, an unwonted fire burned in her still beautiful eyes,
+her bosom heaved ... in the eyes of her children she seemed strangely
+changed. "Children," said she, "come and stand by me. Ephraim, you stand
+here on my right, and you, dear Viola, on my left. I would like to tell
+you a little story, such as they tell little children to soothe them to
+sleep. Shall I?"
+
+"Mother!" they both cried, as they bent towards her.
+
+"You must not interrupt me, children," she observed, still with that
+strange smile on her lips, "but leave me to tell my little story in my
+own way.
+
+"Listen, children," she resumed, after a brief pause. "Every human
+being--be he ever so wicked--if he have done but a single good deed on
+earth, will, when he arrives above, in the seventh heaven, get his
+Sechus, that is to say, the memory of the good he has done here below
+will be remembered and rewarded bountifully by the Almighty." Gudule
+ceased speaking. Suddenly a change came over her features: her breath
+came and went in labored gasps; but her brown eyes still gleamed
+brightly.
+
+In tones well-nigh inaudible she continued: "When Jerusalem, the Holy
+City, was destroyed, the dead rose up out of their graves ... the holy
+patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ... and also Moses, and Aaron his
+brother ... and David the King ... and prostrating themselves before
+God's throne they sobbed: 'Dost Thou not remember the deeds we have
+done?... Wouldst Thou now utterly destroy all these our children, even
+to the innocent babe at the breast?' But the Almighty was inexorable.
+
+"Then Sarah, our mother, approached the Throne... When God beheld her,
+He covered His face, and wept. 'Go,' said He, 'I cannot listen to thee.'
+... But she exclaimed ... 'Dost Thou no longer remember the tears I shed
+before I gave birth to my Joseph and Benjamin ... and dost Thou not
+remember the day when they buried me yonder, on the borders of the
+Promised Land ... and now, must mine eyes behold the slaughter of my
+children, their disgrace, and their captivity?'... Then God cried: 'For
+THY sake will I remember thy children and spare them.' ..."
+
+"Would you like to know," Gudule suddenly cried, with uplifted voice,
+"what this Sechus is like? It has the form of an angel, and it stands
+near the Throne of the Almighty. ... But, since the days of Rachel, our
+mother, it is the Sechus of a mother that finds most favor in God's
+eyes. When a mother dies, her soul straightway soars heavenward, and
+there it takes its place amid the others.
+
+"'Who art thou?' asks God. 'I am the Sechus of a mother,' is the answer,
+'of a mother who has left children behind her on earth.' 'Then do thou
+stand here and keep guard over them!' says God. And when it is well with
+the children, it is the Sechus of a mother which has caused them to
+prosper, and when evil days befall them ... it is again the Angel who
+stands before God and pleads: 'Dost Thou forget that these children no
+longer have a mother?'... and the evil is averted. ..."
+
+Gudule's voice had sunk to a mere whisper. Her eyes closed, her head
+fell back, her breathing became slower and more labored. "Are you still
+there, children?" she softly whispered.
+
+Anxiously they bent over her. Then once again she opened her eyes.
+
+"I see you still"--the words came with difficulty from her blanched
+lips--"you, Ephraim, and you, my little Viola ... I am sure my Sechus
+will plead for you ... for you and your father." They were Gudule's last
+words. When her children, whose eyes had never as yet been confronted
+with Death, called her by her name, covering her icy hands with burning
+kisses, their mother was no more ...
+
+Who can tell what influence causes the downtrodden blade to raise itself
+once more! Is it the vivifying breath of the west wind, or a mysterious
+power sent forth from the bosom of Mother Earth? It was a touching sight
+to see how those two children, crushed as they were beneath the weight
+of a twofold blow, raised their heads again, and in their very
+desolation found new-born strength. And it filled the Ghetto with
+wonder. For what were they but the offspring of a gambler? Or was it the
+spirit of Gudule, their mother, that lived in them?
+
+After Gudule's death, her eldest brother, the then owner of the grange,
+came over to discuss the future of his sister's children. He wished
+Ephraim and Viola to go with him to his home in Lower Bohemia, where he
+could find them occupation. The children, however, were opposed to the
+idea. They had taken no previous counsel together, yet, upon this point,
+both were in perfect accord,-- they would prefer to be left in their old
+home.
+
+"When father comes back again," said Ephraim, "he must know where to
+find us. But to you, Uncle Gabriel, he would never come."
+
+The uncle then insisted that Viola at least should accompany him, for
+he had daughters at home whom she could assist in their duties in the
+house and on the farm. But the child clung to Ephraim, and with flaming
+eyes, and in a voice of proud disdain, which filled the simple farmer
+with something like terror, she cried:
+
+"Uncle, you have enough to do to provide for your own daughters; don't
+let ME be an additional burden upon you; besides, sooner would I wander
+destitute through the world than be separated from my brother."
+
+"And what do you propose to do then?" exclaimed the uncle, after he had
+somewhat recovered from his astonishment at Viola's vehemence.
+
+"You see, Uncle Gabriel," said Ephraim, a sudden flush overspreading his
+grief- stricken features, "you see I have thought about it, and I have
+come to the conclusion that this is the best plan. Viola shall keep
+house, and I ... I'll start a business."
+
+"YOU start a business?" cried the uncle with a loud laugh. "Perhaps you
+can tell me what price I'll get for my oats next market day? A
+business!... and what business, my lad?"
+
+"Uncle," said Ephraim, "if I dispose of all that is left us, I shall
+have enough money to buy a small business. Others in our position have
+done the same... and then..."
+
+"Well, and then?" the uncle cried, eagerly anticipating his answer.
+
+"Then the Sechus of our mother will come to our aid." Ephraim said softly.
+
+The farmer's eyes grew dim with moisture; his sister had been very dear
+to him.
+
+"As I live!" he cried, brushing his hand across his eyes, "you are true
+children of my sister Gudule. That's all _I_ can say."
+
+Then, as though moved by a sudden impulse, he quickly produced, from the
+depths of his overcoat, a heavy pocketbook. "There!"... he cried,
+well-nigh out of breath, "there are a hundred gulden for you, Ephraim.
+With that you can, at all events, make a start; and then you needn't
+sell the few things you still have. There ... put the money away... oats
+haven't fetched any price at all to-day, 'tis true; but for the sake of
+Gudule's children, I don't mind what I do... Come, put it away,
+Ephraim... and may God bless you, and make you prosper."
+
+"Uncle!" cried Ephraim, as he raised the farmer's hand to his lips, "is
+all this to be mine? All this?"
+
+"Yes, my boy, yes; it IS a deal of money isn't it?" ... said Gudule's
+brother, accompanying his words with a sounding slap on his massive
+thigh. "I should rather think it is. With that you can do something, at
+all events ... and shall I tell you something? In Bohemia the oat crop
+is, unfortunately, very bad this season. But in Moravia it's splendid,
+and is two groats cheaper ... So there's your chance, Ephraim, my child;
+you've got the money, buy!" All at once a dark cloud overspread his
+smiling face.
+
+"It's a lot of money, Ephraim, that I am giving you ... many a merchant
+can't lay his hands on it," he said, hesitatingly; "but if ... you were
+to ... gam--"
+
+The word remained unfinished, for upon his arm he suddenly felt a
+sensation as of a sharp, pricking needle.
+
+"Uncle Gabriel!" cried Viola--for it was she who had gripped his
+arm--and the child's cheeks were flaming, whilst her lips curled with
+scorn, and her white teeth gleamed like those of a beast of prey. "Uncle
+Gabriel!" she almost shrieked, "if you don't trust Ephraim, then take
+your money back again ... it's only because you are our mother's brother
+that we accept it from you at all ... Ephraim shall repay you to the
+last farthing ... Ephraim doesn't gamble ... you sha'n't lose a single
+penny of it."
+
+With a shake of his head the farmer regarded the strange child. He felt
+something like annoyance rise within him; an angry word rose to the lips
+of the usually good tempered man. But it remained unsaid; he was unable
+to remove his eyes from the child's face.
+
+"As I live," he muttered, "she has Gudule's very eyes."
+
+And with another thumping slap on his leg, he merrily exclaimed:
+
+"All right, we'll leave it so then.... If Ephraim doesn't repay me, I'll
+take YOU, you wild thing... for you've stood surety for your brother,
+and then I'll take you away, and keep you with me at home. Do you
+agree... you little spit- fire, eh?"
+
+"Yes, uncle!" cried Viola.
+
+"Then give me a kiss, Viola."
+
+The child hesitated for a moment, then she laid her cheek upon her
+uncle's face.
+
+"Ah, now I've got you, you little spit-fire," he cried, kissing her
+again and again. "Aren't you ashamed now to have snapped your uncle up
+like that?"
+
+Then after giving Ephraim some further information about the present
+price of oats, and the future prospects of the crops, with a sideshot
+at the chances of wool, skins, and other merchandise, he took his leave.
+
+There was great surprise in the Ghetto when the barely fifteen-year-old
+lad made his first start in business. Many made merry over "the great
+merchant," but before the year was ended, the sharp-seeing eyes of the
+Ghetto saw that Ephraim had "a lucky hand." Whatever he undertook he
+followed up with a calmness and tact which often baffled the restless
+activity of many a big dealer, with all his cuteness and trickery.
+Whenever Ephraim, with his pale, sad fnce, made his appearance at a
+farmstead, to negotiate for the purchase of wool, or some such matter,
+it seemed as though some invisible messenger had gone before him to
+soften the hearts of the farmers. "No one ever gets things as cheap as
+you do," he was assured by many a farmer's wife, who had been won by the
+unconscious eloquence of his dark eyes. No longer did people laugh at
+"the little merchant," for nothing so quickly kills ridicule as success.
+
+When, two years later, his Uncle Gabriel came again to see how the
+children were getting on, Ephraim was enabled to repay, in hard cash,
+the money he had lent him.
+
+"Oho!" cried Gudule's brother, with big staring eyes, as he clutched his
+legs with both hands, "how have you managed in so short a time to save
+so much? D'ye know that that's a great deal of money?"
+
+"I've had good luck, uncle," said Ephraim, modestly.
+
+"You've been...playing, perhaps?"
+
+The words fell bluntly from the rough country-man, but hardly had they
+been uttered, when Viola sprang from her chair, as though an adder had
+stung her. "Uncle," she cried, and a small fist hovered before Gabriel's
+eyes in such a threatening manner that he involuntarily closed them. But
+the child, whose features reminded him so strongly of his dead sister,
+could not make him angry.
+
+"Ephraim," he exclaimed, in a jocund tone, warding off Viola with his
+hands, "you take my advice. Take this little spit-fire with you into the
+village one day...they may want a young she-wolf there." Then he
+pocketed the money.
+
+"Well, Ephraim," said he, "may God bless you, and grant you further
+luck. But you won't blame me if I take the money,--I can do with it, and
+in oats, as you know, there's some chance of good business just now. But
+I am glad to see that you're so prompt at paying. Never give too much
+credit! That's always my motto; trust means ruin, and eats up a man's
+business, as rats devour the contents of a corn-barn."
+
+There was but one thing that constantly threw its dark shadow across
+these two budding lives,--it was the dark figure in a distant prison.
+This it was that saddened the souls of the two children with a gloom
+which no sunshine could dispel. When on Fridays Ephraim returned,
+fatigued and weary from his work, to the home over which Viola presided
+with such pathetic housewifely care, no smile of welcome was on her
+face, no greeting on his. Ephraim, 'tis true, told his sister where he
+had been, and what he had done, but in the simplest words there vibrated
+that tone of unutterable sadness which has its constant dwelling-place
+in such sorely-tried hearts.
+
+Meanwhile, a great change had come over Viola. Nature continues her
+processes of growth and development 'mid the tempests of human grief,
+and often the fiercer the storm the more beautiful the after effects.
+Viola was no longer the pale child, "the little spit-fire," by whom her
+Uncle Gabriel's arm had been seized in such a violent grip. A womanly
+gentleness had come over her whole being, and already voices were heard
+in the Ghetto praising her grace and beauty, which surpassed even the
+loveliness of her dead mother in her happiest days. Many an admiring eye
+dwelt upon the beautiful girl, many a longing glance was cast in the
+direction of the little house, where she dwelt with her brother. But the
+daughter of a "gambler," the child of a man who was undergoing
+imprisonment for the indulgence of his shameful vice! That was a picture
+from which many an admirer shrank with horror!
+
+One day Ephraim brought home a young canary for his sister. When he
+handed her the bird in its little gilt cage, her joy knew no bounds, and
+showering kisses by turns upon her brother, and on the wire-work of the
+cage, her eyes sparkling with animation:
+
+"You shall see, Ephraim, how I'll teach the little bird to speak," she
+cried.
+
+The softening influence which had, during the last few months, come over
+his sister's nature was truly a matter of wonder to Ephraim. Humbly and
+submissively she accepted the slightest suggestion on his part, as
+though it were a command. He was to her a father and mother, and never
+were parents more implicitly obeyed by a child than this brother by a
+sister but three years his junior.
+
+There was one subject, however, upon which Ephraim found his sister
+implacable and firm--their absent father, the mere mention of whose name
+made her tremble. Then there returned that haughty curl of the lips, and
+all the other symptoms of a proud, inflexible spirit. It was evident
+that Viola hated the man to whom she owed her existence.
+
+Thus had it come about that Ephraim was almost afraid to pronounce his
+father's name. Neither did he care to allude to their mother before
+Viola, for the memory of her death was too closely bound up with that
+dark form behind the distant prison walls.
+
+Let us now return to the night on which Ephraim opened the door to his
+father. How had it come about? A thousand times Ephraim had thought
+about his father's return--and now he durst not even kindle a light, to
+look upon the long- estranged face. As silent as when he had come,
+Ascher remained during the rest of the night; he had seated himself at
+the window, and his arm was resting upon the very spot where formerly
+the cage had stood. The bird had obtained its freedom, and was, no
+doubt, by this time asleep, nestling amid the breeze-swept foliage of
+some wooded glen. HE too had regained his liberty, but no sleep closed
+his eyes, and yet he was in safe shelter, in the house of his children.
+
+At length the day began to break. The sun was still hiding behind the
+mountain- tops, but its earliest rays were already reflected upon the
+window-panes. In the Ghetto footsteps became audible; here and there the
+grating noise of an opening street-door was heard, while from round the
+corner resounded, ever and anon, the hammer of the watchman, calling the
+people to morning service; for it was a Fast-day, which commenced at
+sunrise.
+
+At that moment Ascher raised himself from his chair, and quickly turned
+away from the window. Ephraim was already by his side. "Father, dear
+father!" he cried from the in. most depths of his heart, as he tried to
+grasp the hand of the convict.
+
+"Don't make such a noise," said the latter, casting a furtive glance in
+the direction of the window, and speaking in the same mysterious whisper
+in which he had asked for admittance into the house.
+
+What a strange awakening it was to his son, when, in the gray twilight
+of the breaking day, he looked at Ascher more closely. In his
+imagination Ephraim had pictured a wan, grief-worn figure, and now he
+saw before him a strong, well- built man, who certainly did not present
+the appearance of a person who had just emerged from the dank atmosphere
+of a prison! On the contrary, he seemed stronger and more vigorous than
+he had appeared in his best days.
+
+"Has he had such a good time of it...?" Ephraim felt compelled to ask
+himself... "how different our poor mother looked!"
+
+With a violent effort he repressed the feelings which swelled his bosom.
+"Dear father," he said, with tears in his eyes, "make yourself quite
+comfortable; you haven't closed your eyes the whole night, you must be
+worn out. You are at home, remember...father!"
+
+"It's all right," said Ascher, with a deprecating gesture, "WE fellows
+know other ways of spending the night."
+
+"WE FELLOWS!" The words cut Ephraim to the heart.
+
+"But you may be taken ill, father," he timidly observed.
+
+"I taken ill! What do you take me for?" Ascher laughed, boisterously.
+"I haven't the slightest intention of falling ill."
+
+At that moment the watchman was heard hammering at the door of the next
+house. The reverberating blows seemed to have a strangely disquieting
+effect upon the strong man: a violent tremor seized him; he cast one of
+the frightened glances which Ephraim had noticed before in the direction
+of the window, then with one bound he was at the door, and swiftly
+turned the knob.
+
+"Father, what's the matter?" Ephraim cried, much alarmed.
+
+"Does the watchman look into the room when he passes by?" asked Ascher,
+while his eyes almost burst from their sockets, with the intentness of
+their gaze.
+
+"Never," Ephraim assured him.
+
+"Let me see, wait..." whispered Ascher.
+
+The three well-known knocks now resounded upon their own door, then the
+shadow of a passing figure was thrown upon the opposite wall. With a
+sigh of relief, the words escaped Ascher's bosom:
+
+"He did not look inside..." he muttered to himself.
+
+Then he removed his hand from the door-knob, came back into the centre
+of the room, and approaching the table, rested his hand upon it.
+
+"Ephraim..." he said after a while, in that suppressed tone which seemed
+to be peculiar to him, "aren't you going to synagogue?"
+
+"No, father," replied Ephraim, "I'm not going to-day."
+
+"But they'll want to know," Ascher observed, and at the words an ugly
+sneer curled the corners of his lip; "they'll want to know who your
+guest is. Why don't you go and tell them?"
+
+"Father!" cried Ephraim.
+
+"Then be good enough to draw down the blinds. ...What business is it of
+theirs who your guest is? Let them attend to their own affairs... But
+they wouldn't be of 'the chosen race' if they didn't want to know what
+was taking place in the furthermost corner of your brain. You can't be
+too careful with them...you're never secure against their far-scenting
+noses and their sharp, searching eyes."
+
+It was now broad daylight. Ephraim drew down the blinds.
+
+"The blinds are too white..." Ascher muttered, and moving a chair
+forward, he sat down upon it with his back to the window.
+
+Ephraim proceeded to wind the phylacteries round his arm, and commenced
+to say his prayers softly.
+
+His devotions over, he hurriedly took the phylacteries from his head and
+hand.
+
+Ascher was still sitting immovable, his back to the window, his eyes
+fixed upon the door.
+
+"Why don't you ask me where I've left my luggage?" he suddenly cried.
+
+"I'll fetch it myself if you'll tell me where it is," Ephraim remarked,
+in all simplicity.
+
+"Upon my word, you make me laugh," cried Ascher, and a laugh like that
+of delirium burst from his lips. "All I can say, Ephraim, is, the most
+powerful giant upon earth would break his back beneath the weight of my
+luggage!"
+
+Then only did Ephraim grasp his father's meaning.
+
+"Don't worry yourself, father..." he said lovingly.
+
+"Would you like to support me, perhaps!" Ascher shouted, with cutting
+disdain.
+
+Ephraim's heart almost ceased to beat. Then movements were heard in the
+adjoining room.
+
+"Have you any one with you?" cried Ascher springing up. His sharp ears
+had instantly caught the sounds, and again the strong man was seized
+with violent trembling.
+
+"Father, it's only dear Viola," said Ephraim.
+
+A nameless terror seemed to have over-powered Ascher. With one hand
+convulsively clenched upon the arm of the chair, and the other pressed
+to his temple, he sat breathing heavily. Ephraim observed with alarm
+what a terrible change had come over his father's features during the
+last few seconds: his face had become ashen white, his eyes had lost
+their lustre, he seemed to have aged ten years.
+
+The door opened, and Viola entered.
+
+"Viola!" cried Ephraim, "here is our--"
+
+"Welcome!" said the girl, in a low voice, as she approached a few steps
+nearer. She extended her hand towards him, but her eyes were cast down.
+She stood still for a moment, then, with a hurried movement, turned
+away.
+
+"Gudule!" cried Ascher, horror-stricken, as he fell back almost
+senseless in his chair.
+
+Was it the glamour of her maiden beauty that had so overpowered this
+unhappy father? Or was it the extraordinary resemblance she bore to the
+woman who had so loved him, and whose heart he had broken? The utterance
+of her name, the terror that accompanied the exclamation, denoted the
+effect which the girl's sudden appearance had produced upon that sadly
+unhinged mind.
+
+"Viola!" Ephraim cried, in a sorrow-stricken voice, "why don't you come
+here?"
+
+"I CAN'T, Ephraim, I CAN'T..." she moaned, as, with halting steps, she
+walked towards the door.
+
+"Come, speak to him, do," Ephraim entreated, taking her hand in his.
+
+"Let me go!" she cried, trying to release herself ... "I am thinking of
+mother!"
+
+Suddenly Ascher rose.
+
+"Where's my stick?" he cried. "I want the stick which I brought with
+me...Where is it? I must go."
+
+"Father, you won't..." cried Ephraim.
+
+Then Viola turned round.
+
+"Father," she said, with twitching lips... "you'll want something to eat
+before you go."
+
+"Yes, yes, let me have something to eat," he shouted, as he brought his
+fist down upon the table. "Bring me wine...and let it be good ...I am
+thirsty enough to drink the river dry. ...Wine, and beer, and anything
+else you can find, bring all here, and then, when I've had my fill, I'll
+go."
+
+"Go, Viola," Ephraim whispered in his sister's ear, "and bring him all
+he asks for."
+
+When Viola had left the room, Ascher appeared to grow calmer. He sat
+down again leaning his arms upon the table.
+
+"Yes," he muttered to himself: "I'll taste food with my children, before
+I take up my stick and go...They say it's lucky to have the first drink
+of the day served by one's own child ...and luck I will have again, at
+any price... What good children! While I've been anything but a good
+father to them, they run hither and thither and take the trouble to get
+me food and drink, and I, I've brought them home nothing but a wooden
+stick. But I'll repay them, so help me God, I'll make them rich yet, but
+I've got nothing but a wooden stick, and I want money, no play without
+money, and no luck either..."
+
+Gradually a certain thoughtfulness overspread Ascher's agitated
+features, his lips were tightly compressed, deep furrows lined his
+forehead, while his eyes were fixed in a stony glare, as if upon some
+distant object. In the meantime Ephraim had remained standing almost
+motionless, and it was evident that his presence in the room had quite
+escaped his father's observation. With a chilling shudder running
+through his frame, his hair on end with horror, he listened to the
+strange soliloquy!...Then he saw his father's eyes travelling slowly in
+the direction of the old bureau in the corner, and there they remained
+fixed. "Why does he leave the key in the door, I wonder," he heard him
+mutter between his teeth, "just as Gudule used to do; I must tell him
+when he comes back, keys shouldn't be left indoors, never, under any
+circumstances." The entrance of Viola interrupted the old gambler's
+audible train of thought.
+
+Ephraim gave a gasp of relief.
+
+"Ah, what have you brought me?" cried Ascher, and his eyes sparkled with
+animation, as Viola produced some bottles from under her apron, and
+placed them and some glasses upon the table.
+
+"Now then, fill up the glass," he shouted, in a commanding voice, "and
+take care that you don't spill any, or you'll spoil my luck."
+
+With trembling hand Viola did as she was bidden, without spilling a
+single drop. Then he took up the glass and drained it at one draught.
+His face flushed a bright crimson: he poured himself out another glass.
+
+"Aren't you drinking, Ephraim?" he exclaimed, after he had finished that
+glass also.
+
+"I don't drink to-day, father," Ephraim faltered, "it's a fast."
+
+"A fast? What fast? I have been fasting too," he continued, with a
+coarse laugh, "twice a week, on bread and water; an excellent thing for
+the stomach. Fancy, a fast-day in midsummer. On such a long day, when
+the sun is up at three already, and at eight o'clock at night is still
+hesitating whether he'll go to bed or not ...what have I got to do with
+your Fast-day?"
+
+His face grew redder every moment; he had drunk a third and a fourth
+glass, and there was nothing but a mere drain left in the bottle.
+Already his utterance was thick and incoherent, and his eyes were fast
+assuming that glassy brightness that is usually the forerunner of
+helpless intoxication. It was a sight Ephraim could not bear to see.
+Impelled by that natural, almost holy shame which prompted the son of
+Noah to cover the nakedness of his father, he motioned to his sister to
+leave. Then HE, too, softly walked out of the room.
+
+Outside, in the corridor, the brother and sister fell into each other's
+arms. Both wept bitterly: for a long time neither of them could find
+words in which to express the grief which filled their souls. At length
+Viola, her head resting upon Ephraim's shoulder, whispered: "Ephraim,
+what do you think of him?"
+
+"He is ill, I think..." said Ephraim, in a voice choked with sobs.
+
+"What, you call THAT illness, Ephraim?" Viola cried; "if that's illness,
+then a wild beast is ill too."
+
+"Viola, for Heaven's sake, be quiet: he's our own father after all!"
+
+"Ephraim!" said the girl, with a violent outburst of emotion, as she
+again threw herself into her brother's arms... "just think if mother had
+lived to see this!"
+
+"Don't, don't, Viola, my sweet!" Ephraim exclaimed, sobbing convulsively.
+
+"Ephraim!" the girl cried, shaking her head in wild despair, "I don't
+believe in the Sechus! When we live to see all this, and our hearts do
+not break, we lose faith in everything...Ephraim, what is to become of
+us?"
+
+"Hush, dear Viola, hush, you don't know what you are saying," replied Ephraim,
+"I believe in it, because mother herself told us...you must believe in it too."
+
+But Viola again shook her head. "I don't believe in it any longer," she
+moaned, "I can't."
+
+Noiselessly, Ephraim walked toward the door of the front room; he placed
+his ear against the keyhole, and listened. Within all was silent. A
+fresh terror seized him. Why was no sound to be heard?...He opened the
+door cautiously lest it should creak. There sat his father asleep in the
+arm-chair, his head bent on his bosom, his arms hanging limp by his
+side.
+
+"Hush, Viola," he whispered, closing the door as cautiously as he had
+opened it, "he is asleep. ...I think it will do him good. Be careful
+that you make no noise."
+
+Viola had seated herself upon a block of wood outside the kitchen door,
+and was sobbing silently. In the meantime, Ephraim, unable to find a
+word of solace for his sister, went and stood at the street door, so
+that no unbidden guest should come to disturb his father's slumbers. It
+was mid-day; from the church hard by streamed the peasants and their
+wives in their Sunday attire, and many bestowed a friendly smile upon
+the well-known youth. But he could only nod his head in return, his
+heart was sore oppressed, and a smile at such a moment seemed to him
+nothing short of sin. He went back into the house, and listened at the
+door of the room. Silence still reigned unbroken, and with noiseless
+steps he again walked away.
+
+"He is still sleeping," he whispered to his sister. "Just think what
+would have happened if we had still had that bird...He wouldn't have
+been able to sleep a wink."
+
+"Ephraim, why do you remind me of it?" cried Viola with a fresh outburst
+of tears. "Where is the little bird now, I wonder?..."
+
+Ephraim sat down beside his sister, and took her hand in his. Thus they
+remained seated for some time, unable to find a word of comfort for each
+other.
+
+At length movements were heard. Ephraim sprang to his feet and once more
+approached the door to listen.
+
+"He is awake!" he softly said to Viola, and slowly opening the door, he
+entered the room.
+
+Ascher was walking up and down with heavy tread.
+
+"Do you feel refreshed after your sleep, father?" Ephraim asked timidly.
+
+Ascher stood still, and confronted his son. His face was still very
+flushed, but his eyes had lost their glassy stare; his glance was clear
+and steady.
+
+"Ephraim, my son," he began, in a kindly, almost cheerful tone, "you've
+grown into a splendid business man, as good a business man as one can
+meet with between this and Vienna. I'm sure of it. But I must give you
+one bit of advice; it's worth a hundred pounds to one in your position.
+Never leave a key in the lock of a bureau!"
+
+Ephraim looked at his father as though stupefied. Was the man mad or
+delirious to talk in such a strain? At that moment, from the extreme end
+of the Ghetto, there sounded the three knocks, summoning the people to
+evening prayer. As in the morning, so again now the sound seemed to stun
+the vigorous man. His face blanched and assumed an expression of terror;
+he trembled from head to foot. Then again he cast a frightened glance
+in the direction of the window.
+
+"Nothing but knocking, knocking!" he muttered. "They would like to knock
+the most hidden thoughts out of one's brains, if they only could. What
+makes them do it, I should like to know?...To the clanging of a bell you
+can, at all events, shut your ears, you need only place your hands to
+them...but with that hammer they bang at every confounded door, and
+drive one crazy. Who gives them the right to do it, I should like to
+know?" He stood still listening.
+
+"Do you think he will be long before he reaches here?" he asked Ephraim,
+in a frightened voice.
+
+"Who, father?"
+
+"The watch."
+
+"He has already knocked next door but one."
+
+Another minute, and the three strokes sounded on the door of the house.
+Ascher heaved a sigh of relief; he rubbed his hand across his forehead;
+it was wet with perspiration.
+
+"Thank God!" he cried, as though addressing himself, "that's over, and
+won't come again till to-morrow."
+
+"Ephraim, my son!" he cried, with a sudden outburst of cheerfulness,
+accompanying the words with a thundering bang upon the table, "Ephraim,
+my son, you shall soon see what sort of a father you have. Now, you're
+continually worrying your brains, walking your feet off, trying to get
+a skin, or praying some fool of a peasant to be good enough to sell you
+a bit of wool. Ephraim, my son, all that shall soon be changed, take my
+word for it. I'll make you rich, and as for Viola, I'll get her a
+husband--such a husband that all the girls in Bohemia will turn green
+and yellow with envy...Ascher's daughter shall have as rich a dowry as
+the daughter of a Rothschild... But there's one thing, and one thing
+only, that I need, and then all will happen as I promise, in one night."
+
+"And what is that, father!" asked Ephraim, with a slight shudder.
+
+"Luck, luck, Ephraim, my son!" he shouted. "What is a man without luck?
+Put a man who has no luck in a chest full of gold; cover him with gold
+from head to foot; when he crawls out of it, and you search his pockets,
+you'll find the gold has turned to copper."
+
+"And will you have luck, father?" asked Ephraim.
+
+"Ephraim, my son!" said the old gambler, with a cunning smile, "I'll
+tell you something--There are persons whose whole powers are devoted to
+one object--how to win a fortune; in the same way as there are some who
+study to become doctors, and the like, so these study what we call
+luck...and from them I've learned it."
+
+He checked himself in sudden alarm lest he might have said too much, and
+looked searchingly at his son. A pure soul shone through Ephraim's open
+countenance, and showed his father that his real meaning had not been
+grasped.
+
+"Never mind," he shouted loudly, waving his arms in the air, "what is
+to come no man can stop. Give me something to drink, Ephraim."
+
+"Father," the latter faltered, "don't you think it will harm you?"
+
+"Don't be a fool, Ephraim!" cried Ascher, "you don't know my
+constitution. Besides, didn't you say that to-day was a fast, when it
+is forbidden to eat anything? And have I asked you for any food? But as
+for drink, that's quite another thing! The birds of the air can't do
+without it, much less man!"
+
+Ephraim saw that for that evening, at all events, it would not do to
+oppose his father. He walked into the kitchen where Viola was preparing
+supper, or rather breakfast, for after the fast this was the first meal
+of the day.
+
+"Viola," he said, "make haste and fetch some fresh wine."
+
+"For him?" cried Viola, pointing her finger almost threateningly in the
+direction of the sitting-room door.
+
+"Don't, don't, Viola!" Ephraim implored.
+
+"And you are fasting!" she said.
+
+"Am I not also fasting for him?" said Ephraim.
+
+With a full bottle in his hand Ephraim once more entered the room. He
+placed the wine upon the table, where the glasses from which Ascher had
+drunk in the morning were still standing.
+
+"Where is Viola?" asked Ascher, who was again pacing the room with firm
+steps.
+
+"She is busy cooking."
+
+"Tell her she shall have a husband, and a dowry that will make half the
+girls in Bohemia turn green and yellow with envy."
+
+Then he approached the table, and drank three brimming glasses, one
+after the other. "Now then," he said, as with his whole weight he
+dropped into the old arm-chair... "Now I'll have a good night's rest.
+I need strength and sharp eyes, and they are things which only sleep can
+give. Ephraim, my son," he continued after awhile in thick, halting
+accents... "tell the watch--Simon is his name, I think--he can give six
+knocks instead of three upon the door, in the morning, he won't disturb
+me...and to Viola you can say I'll find her a husband, handsomer than
+her eyes have ever beheld, and tell her on her wedding-day she shall
+wear pearls round her neck like those of a queen--no, no, like those of
+Gudule, her mother." A few moments later he was sound asleep.
+
+It was the dead of night. All round reigned stillness and peace, the
+peace of night! What a gentle sound those words convey, a sound akin
+only to the word HOME! Fraught, like it, with sweetest balm, a fragrant
+flower from long-lost paradise. Thou art at rest, Ascher, and in safe
+shelter; the breathing of thy children is so restful, so tranquil...
+
+Desist! desist! 'T is too late. Side by side with the peace of night,
+there dwell Spirits of Evil, the never-resting, vagrant, home-destroying
+guests, who enter unbidden into the human soul! Hark, the rustling of
+their raven-hued plumage! They take wing, they fly aloft; 't is the
+shriek of the vulture, swooping down upon the guileless dove.
+
+Is there no eye to watch thee? Doth not thine own kin see thy foul deeds?
+
+Desist!
+
+'T is too late...
+
+Open is the window, no grating noise has accompanied the unbolting of
+the shutter... The evil spirits have taken care that the faintest sound
+shall die away...even the rough iron obeys their voices...it is they who
+have bidden: "Be silent; betray him not; he is one of us."
+
+Even the key in the door of the old bureau is turned lightly and without
+noise. Groping fingers are searching for a bulky volume. Have they found
+it? Is there none there to cry in a voice of thunder: "Cursed be the
+father who stretches forth his desecrating hand towards the things that
+are his children's"?...
+
+They HAVE found it, the greedy fingers! and now, but a spring through
+the open window, and out into the night...
+
+At that moment a sudden ray of light shines through a crack in the door
+of the room... Swiftly the door opens, a girlish figure appears on the
+threshold, a lighted lamp in her hand...
+
+"Gudule!" he shrieks, horror-stricken, and falls senseless at her feet.
+
+Ascher was saved. The terrible blow which had struck him down had not
+crushed the life from him. He was awakened. But when, after four weeks
+of gruesome fever and delirium, his mind had somewhat regained its
+equilibrium, his hair had turned white as snow, and his children beheld
+an old, decrepit man.
+
+That which Viola had denied her father when he returned to them in all
+the vigor of his manhood, she now lavished upon him in his suffering and
+helplessness, with that concentrated power of love, the source of which
+is not human, but Divine. In the space of one night of terror, the
+merest bud of yesterday had suddenly blossomed forth into a flower of
+rarest beauty. Never did gentler hands cool a fever-heated brow, never
+did sweeter voice mingle its melody with the gruesome dreams of
+delirium.
+
+On his sick-bed, lovingly tended by Ephraim and Viola, an ennobling
+influence gradually came over the heart of the old gambler, and so
+deeply touched it, that calm peace crowned his closing days. It was
+strange that the events of that memorable night, and the vicissitudes
+that had preceded it, had left no recollection behind, and his children
+took good care not to re-awaken, by the slightest hint, his sleeping
+memory.
+
+A carriage drew up one day in front of Ascher's house. There has
+evidently been a splendid crop of oats this year. Uncle Gabriel has
+come. Uncle Gabriel has only lately assumed the additional character of
+father-in-law to Ephraim, for he declared that none but Ephraim should
+be his pet daughter's husband. And now he has come for the purpose of
+having a confidential chat with Viola. There he sits, the kind-hearted,
+simple-minded man, every line of his honest face eloquent with
+good-humor and happiness, still guilty of an occasional violent
+onslaught upon his thighs. Viola still remains his "little spit-fire."
+
+"Now, Viola, my little spit-fire," said he. "won't you yet allow me to
+talk to my Nathan about you? Upon my word, the boy can't bear the
+suspense any longer."
+
+"Uncle," says Viola, and a crimson blush dyes her pale cheeks: "Uncle,"
+she repeats, in a tone of such deep earnestness, that the laughing
+expression upon Gabriel's face instantly vanishes, "please don't talk
+to him at all. MY place is with my father!"
+
+And to all appearances Viola will keep her word.
+
+Had she taken upon herself a voluntary penance for having, in her
+heart's bitter despair, presumed to abjure her faith in the Sechus of
+her mother? Or was there yet another reason? The heart of woman is a
+strangely sensitive thing. It loves not to build its happiness upon the
+hidden ruins of another's life.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEVERED HAND
+
+BY
+
+WILHELM HAUFF
+
+
+I was born in Constantinople; my father was a dragoman at the Porte, and
+besides, carried on a fairly lucrative business in sweet-scented
+perfumes and silk goods. He gave me a good education; he partly
+instructed me himself, and also had me instructed by one of our priests.
+He at first intended me to succeed him in business one day, but as I
+showed greater aptitude than he had expected, he destined me, on the
+advice of his friends, to be a doctor; for if a doctor has learned a
+little more than the ordinary charlatan, he can make his fortune in
+Constantinople. Many Franks frequented our house, and one of them
+persuaded my father to allow me to travel to his native land to the city
+of Paris, where such things could be best acquired and free of charge.
+He wished, however, to take me with himself gratuitously on his journey
+home. My father, who had also travelled in his youth, agreed, and the
+Frank told me to hold myself in readiness three months hence. I was
+beside myself with joy at the idea of seeing foreign countries, and
+eagerly awaited the moment when we should embark. The Frank had at last
+concluded his business and prepared himself for the journey. On the
+evening before our departure my father led me into his little bedroom.
+There I saw splendid dresses and arms lying on the table. My looks were
+however chiefly attracted to an immense heap of gold, for I had never
+before seen so much collected together.
+
+My father embraced me and said: "Behold, my son, I have procured for
+thee clothes for the journey. These weapons are thine; they are the same
+which thy grandfather hung around me when I went abroad. I know that
+thou canst use them aright; but only make use of them when thou art
+attacked; on such occasions, however, defend thyself bravely. My
+property is not large; behold I have divided it into three parts, one
+part for thee, another for my support and spare money, but the third is
+to me a sacred and untouched property, it is for thee in the hour of
+need." Thus spoke my old father, tears standing in his eyes, perhaps
+from some foreboding, for I never saw him again.
+
+The journey passed off very well; we had soon reached the land of the
+Franks, and six days later we arrived in the large city of Paris. There
+my Frankish friend hired a room for me, and advised me to spend wisely
+my money, which amounted in all to two thousand dollars. I lived three
+years in this city, and learned what is necessary for a skilful doctor
+to know. I should not, however, be stating the truth if I said that I
+liked being there, for the customs of this nation displeased me;
+besides, I had only a few chosen friends there, and these were noble
+young men.
+
+The longing after home at last possessed me mightily; during the whole
+of that time I had not heard anything from my father, and I therefore
+seized a favorable opportunity of reaching home. An embassy from France
+left for Turkey. I acted as surgeon to the suite of the Ambassador and
+arrived happily in Stamboul. My father's house was locked, and the
+neighbors, who were surprised on seeing me, told me my father had died
+two months ago. The priest who had instructed me in my youth brought me
+the key; alone and desolate I entered the empty house. All was still in
+the same position as my father had left it, only the gold which I was
+to inherit was gone. I questioned the priest about it, and he, bowing,
+said: "Your father died a saint, for he has bequeathed his gold to the
+Church." This was and remained inexplicable to me. However, what could
+I do? I had no witness against the priest, and had to be glad that he
+had not considered the house and the goods of my father as a bequest.
+This was the first misfortune that I encountered. Henceforth nothing but
+ill-luck attended me. My reputation as doctor would not spread at all,
+because I was ashamed to act the charlatan; and I felt everywhere the
+want of the recommendation of my father, who would have introduced me
+to the richest and most distinguished, but who now no longer thought of
+the poor Zaleukos! The goods of my father also had no sale, for his
+customers had deserted him after his death, and new ones are only to be
+got slowly.
+
+Thus when I was one day meditating sadly over my position, it occurred
+to me that I had often seen in France men of my nation travelling
+through the country exhibiting their goods in the markets of the towns.
+I remembered that the people liked to buy of them, because they came
+from abroad, and that such a business would be most lucrative.
+Immediately I resolved what to do. I disposed of my father's house, gave
+part of the money to a trusty friend to keep for me, and with the rest
+I bought what are very rare in France, shawls, silk goods, ointments,
+and oils, took a berth on board a ship, and thus entered upon my second
+journey to the land of the Franks. It seemed as if fortune had favored
+me again as soon as I had turned my back upon the Castles of the
+Dardanelles. Our journey was short and successful. I travelled through
+the large and small towns of the Franks, and found everywhere willing
+buyers of my goods. My friend in Stamboul always sent me fresh stores,
+and my wealth increased day by day. When I had saved at last so much
+that I thought I might venture on a greater undertaking, I travelled
+with my goods to Italy. I must however confess to something, which
+brought me not a little money: I also employed my knowledge of physic.
+On reaching a town, I had it published that a Greek physician had
+arrived, who had already healed many; and in fact my balsam and medicine
+gained me many a sequin. Thus I had at length reached the city of
+Florence in Italy.
+
+I resolved upon remaining in this town for some time, partly because I
+liked it so well, partly also because I wished to recruit myself from
+the exertions of my travels. I hired a vaulted shop, in that part of the
+town called Sta. Croce, and not far from this a couple of nice rooms at
+an inn, leading out upon a balcony. I immediately had my bills
+circulated, which announced me to be both physician and merchant.
+Scarcely had I opened my shop when I was besieged by buyers, and in
+spite of my high prices I sold more than any one else, because I was
+obliging and friendly towards my customers. Thus I had already lived
+four days happily in Florence, when one evening, as I was about to close
+my vaulted room, and on examining once more the contents of my ointment
+boxes, as I was in the habit of doing, I found in one of the small boxes
+a piece of paper, which I did not remember to have put into it.
+
+I unfolded the paper, and found in it an invitation to be on the bridge
+which is called Ponto Vecchio that night exactly at midnight. I was
+thinking for a long time as to who it might be who had invited me there;
+and not knowing a single soul in Florence, I thought perhaps I should
+be secretly conducted to a patient, a thing which had already often
+occurred. I therefore determined to proceed thither, but took care to
+gird on the sword which my father had once presented to me. When it was
+close upon midnight I set out on my journey, and soon reached the Ponte
+Vecchio. I found the bridge deserted, and determined to await the
+appearance of him who called me. It was a cold night; the moon shone
+brightly, and I looked down upon the waves of the Arno, which sparkled
+far away in the moonlight. It was now striking twelve o'clock from all
+the churches of the city, when I looked up and saw a tall man standing
+before me completely covered in a scarlet cloak, one end of which hid
+his face.
+
+At first I was somewhat frightened, because he had made his appearance
+so suddenly; but was however myself again shortly afterwards, and said:
+"If it is you who have ordered me here, say what you want?" The man
+dressed in scarlet turned round and said in an undertone: "Follow!" At
+this, however, I felt a little timid to go alone with this stranger. I
+stood still and said: "Not so, sir, kindly first tell me where; you
+might also let me see your countenance a little, in order to convince
+me that you wish me no harm." The red one, however, did not seem to pay
+any attention to this. "If thou art unwilling, Zaleukos, remain," he
+replied, and continued his way. I grew angry. "Do you think," I
+exclaimed, "a man like myself allows himself to be made a fool of, and
+to have waited on this cold night for nothing?"
+
+In three bounds I had reached him, seized him by his cloak, and cried
+still louder, whilst laying hold of my sabre with my other hand. His
+cloak, however, remained in my hand, and the stranger had disappeared
+round the nearest corner. I became calmer by degrees. I had the cloak
+at any rate, and it was this which would give me the key to this
+remarkable adventure. I put it on and continued my way home. When I was
+at a distance of about a hundred paces from it, some one brushed very
+closely by me and whispered in the language of the Franks: "Take care,
+Count, nothing can be done to-night." Before I had time, however, to
+turn round, this somebody had passed, and I merely saw a shadow hovering
+along the houses. I perceived that these words did not concern me, but
+rather the cloak, yet it gave me no explanation concerning the affair.
+On the following morning I considered what was to be done. At first I
+had intended to have the cloak cried in the streets, as if I had found
+it. But then the stranger might send for it by a third person, and thus
+no light would be thrown upon the matter. Whilst I was thus thinking,
+I examined the cloak more closely. It was made of thick Genoese velvet,
+scarlet in color, edged with Astrachan fur and richly embroidered with
+gold. The magnificent appearance of the cloak put a thought into my mind
+which I resolved to carry out.
+
+I carried it into my shop and exposed it for sale, but placed such a
+high price upon it that I was sure nobody would buy it. My object in
+this was to scrutinize everybody sharply who might ask for the fur
+cloak; for the figure of the stranger, which I had seen but
+superficially, though with some certainty, after the loss of the cloak,
+I should recognize amongst a thousand. There were many would-be
+purchasers for the cloak, the extraordinary beauty of which attracted
+everybody; but none resembled the stranger in the slightest degree, and
+nobody was willing to pay such a high price as two hundred sequins for
+it. What astonished me was that on asking somebody or other if there was
+not such a cloak in Florence, they all answered "No," and assured me
+they never had seen so precious and tasteful a piece of work.
+
+Evening was drawing near, when at last a young man appeared, who had
+already been to my place, and who had also offered me a great deal for
+the cloak. He threw a purse with sequins upon the table, and exclaimed:
+"Of a truth, Zaleukos, I must have thy cloak, should I turn into a
+beggar over it!" He immediately began to count his pieces of gold. I was
+in a dangerous position: I had only exposed the cloak, in order merely
+to attract the attention of my stranger, and now a young fool came to
+pay an immense price for it. However, what could I do? I yielded; for
+on the other hand I was delighted at the idea of being so handsomely
+recompensed for my nocturnal adventure.
+
+The young man put the cloak around him and went away, but on reaching
+the threshold he returned; whilst unfastening a piece of paper which had
+been tied to the cloak, and throwing it towards me, he exclaimed: "Here,
+Zaleukos, hangs something which I dare say does not belong to the
+cloak." I picked up the piece of paper carelessly, but behold, on it
+these words were written: "Bring the cloak at the appointed hour
+to-night to the Ponte Vecchio, four hundred sequins are thine." I stood
+thunderstruck. Thus I had lost my fortune and completely missed my aim!
+Yet I did not think long. I picked up the two hundred sequins, jumped
+after the one who had bought the cloak, and said: "Dear friend, take
+back your sequins, and give me the cloak; I cannot possibly part with
+it." He first regarded the matter as a joke; but when he saw that I was
+in earnest, he became angry at my demand, called me a fool, and finally
+it came to blows.
+
+However, I was fortunate enough to wrench the cloak from him in the
+scuffle, and was about to run away with it, when the young man called
+the police to his assistance, and we both appeared before the judge. The
+latter was much surprised at the accusation, and adjudicated the cloak
+in favor of my adversary. I offered the young man twenty, fifty, eighty,
+even a hundred sequins in addition to his two hundred, if he would part
+with the cloak. What my entreaties could not do, my gold did. He
+accepted it. I, however, went away with the cloak triumphantly, and had
+to appear to the whole town of Florence as a madman. I did not care,
+however, about the opinion of the people; I knew better than they that
+I profited after all by the bargain.
+
+Impatiently I awaited the night. At the same hour as before I went with
+the cloak under my arm towards the Ponte Vecchio. With the last stroke
+of twelve the figure appeared out of the darkness, and came towards me.
+It was unmistakably the man whom I had seen yesterday. "Hast thou the
+cloak?" he asked me. "Yes, sir," I replied; "but it cost me a hundred
+sequins ready money." "I know it," replied the other "Look here, here
+are four hundred." He went with me towards the wide balustrade of the
+bridge. and counted out the money. There were four hundred; they
+sparkled magnificently in the moonlight; their glitter rejoiced my
+heart. Alas, I did not anticipate that this would be its last joy. I put
+the money into my pocket, and was desirous of thoroughly looking at my
+kind and unknown stranger; but he wore a mask, through which dark eyes
+stared at me frightfully. "I thank you, sir, for your kindness," I said
+to him; "what else do you require of me? I tell you beforehand it must
+be an honorable transaction." "There is no occasion for alarm," he
+replied. whilst winding the cloak around his shoulders; "I require your
+assistance as surgeon, not for one alive, but dead."
+
+"What do you mean?" I exclaimed, full of surprise. "I arrived with my
+sister from abroad." he said, and beckoned me at the same time to follow
+him. "I lived here with her at the house of a friend. My sister died
+yesterday suddenly of a disease, and my relatives wish to bury her
+to-morrow. According to an old custom of our family all are to be buried
+in the tomb of our ancestors; many, notwithstanding, who died in foreign
+countries are buried there and embalmed. I do not grudge my relatives
+her body, but for my father I want at least the head of his daughter,
+in order that he may see her once more." This custom of severing the
+heads of beloved relatives appeared to me somewhat awful, yet I did not
+dare to object to it lest I should offend the stranger. I told him that
+I was acquainted with the embalming of the dead, and begged him to
+conduct me to the deceased. Yet I could not help asking him why all this
+must be done so mysteriously and at night? He answered me that his
+relatives, who considered his intention horrible, objected to it by
+daylight; if only the head were severed, then they could say no more
+about it; although he might have brought me the head, yet a natural
+feeling had prevented him from severing it himself.
+
+In the meantime we had reached a large, splendid house. My companion
+pointed it out to me as the end of our nocturnal walk. We passed the
+principal entrance of the house, entered a little door, which the
+stranger carefully locked behind him, and now ascended in the dark a
+narrow spiral staircase. It led towards a dimly lighted passage, out of
+which we entered a room lighted by a lamp fastened to the ceiling.
+
+In this room was a bed, on which the corpse lay. The stranger turned
+aside his face, evidently endeavoring to hide his tears. He pointed
+towards the bed, telling me to do my business well and quickly, and left
+the room.
+
+I took my instruments, which I as surgeon always carried about with me,
+and approached the bed. Only the head of the corpse was visible, and it
+was so beautiful that I experienced involuntarily the deepest sympathy.
+Dark hair hung down in long plaits, the features were pale, the eyes
+closed. At first I made an incision into the skin, after the manner of
+surgeons when amputating a limb. I then took my sharpest knife, and with
+one stroke cut the throat. But oh, horror! The dead opened her eyes, but
+immediately closed them again, and with a deep sigh she now seemed to
+breathe her last. At the same moment a stream of hot blood shot towards
+me from the wound. I was convinced that the poor creature had been
+killed by me. That she was dead there was no doubt, for there was no
+recovery from this wound. I stood for some minutes in painful anguish
+at what had happened. Had the "red-cloak" deceived me, or had his sister
+perhaps merely been apparently dead? The latter seemed to me more
+likely. But I dare not tell the brother of the deceased that perhaps a
+little less deliberate cut might have awakened her without killing her;
+therefore I wished to sever the head completely; but once more the dying
+woman groaned, stretched herself out in painful movements, and died.
+
+Fright overpowered me, and shuddering, I hastened out of the room. But
+outside in the passage it was dark; for the light was out, no trace of
+my companion was to be seen, and I was obliged, haphazard, to feel my
+way in the dark along the wall, in order to reach the staircase. I
+discovered it at last and descended, partly falling and partly gliding.
+But there was not a soul downstairs. I merely found the door ajar, and
+breathed freer on reaching the street, for I had felt very strange
+inside the house. Urged on by terror, I rushed towards my dwelling-
+place, and buried myself in the cushions of my bed, in order to forget
+the terrible thing that I had done.
+
+But sleep deserted me, and only the morning admonished me again to take
+courage. It seemed to me probable that the man who had induced me to
+commit this nefarious deed, as it now appeared to me, might not denounce
+me. I immediately resolved to set to work in my vaulted room, and if
+possible to assume an indifferent look. But alas! an additional
+circumstance, which I only now noticed, increased my anxiety still more.
+My cap and my girdle, as well as my instruments, were wanting, and I was
+uncertain as to whether I had left them in the room of the murdered
+girl, or whether I had lost them in my flight. The former seemed indeed
+the more likely, and thus I could easily be discovered as the murderer.
+
+At the accustomed hour I opened my vaulted room. My neighbor came in,
+as was his wont every morning, for he was a talkative man. "Well," he
+said, "what do you say about the terrible affair which has occurred
+during the night?" I pretended not to know anything. "What, do you not
+know what is known all over the town? Are you not aware that the
+loveliest flower in Florence, Bianca, the Governor's daughter, was
+murdered last night? I saw her only yesterday driving through the
+streets in so cheerful a manner with her intended one, for to-day the
+marriage was to have taken place." I felt deeply wounded at each word
+of my neighbor. Many a time my torment was renewed, for every one of my
+customers told me of the affair, each one more ghastly than the other,
+and yet nobody could relate anything more terrible than that which I had
+seen myself.
+
+About mid-day a police-officer entered my shop and requested me to send
+the people away. "Signor Zaleukos" he said, producing the things which
+I had missed, "do these things belong to you?" I was thinking as to
+whether I should not entirely repudiate them, but on seeing through the
+door, which stood ajar, my landlord and several acquaintances, I
+determined not to aggravate the affair by telling a lie, and
+acknowledged myself as the owner of the things. The police- officer
+asked me to follow him, and led me towards a large building which I soon
+recognized as the prison. There he showed me into a room meanwhile.
+
+My situation was terrible, as I thought of it in my solitude. The idea
+of having committed a murder, unintentionally, constantly presented
+itself to my mind. I also could not conceal from myself that the glitter
+of the gold had captivated my feelings, otherwise I should not have
+fallen blindly into the trap. Two hours after my arrest I was led out
+of my cell. I descended several steps until at last I reached a great
+hall. Around a long table draped in black were seated twelve men, mostly
+old men. There were benches along the sides of the hall, filled with the
+most distinguished of Florence. The galleries, which were above, were
+thickly crowded with spectators. When I had stepped towards the table
+covered with black cloth, a man with a gloomy and sad countenance rose;
+it was the Governor. He said to the assembly that he as the father in
+this affair could not sentence, and that he resigned his place on this
+occasion to the eldest of the Senators. The eldest of the Senators was
+an old man at least ninety years of age. He stood in a bent attitude,
+and his temples were covered with thin white hair, but his eyes were as
+yet very fiery, and his voice powerful and weighty. He commenced by
+asking me whether I confessed to the murder. I requested him to allow
+me to speak, and related undauntedly and with a clear voice what I had
+done, and what I knew.
+
+I noticed that the Governor, during my recital, at one time turned pale,
+and at another time red. When I had finished, he rose angrily: "What,
+wretch!" he exclaimed, "dost thou even dare to impute a crime which thou
+hast committed from greediness to another?" The Senator reprimanded him
+for his interruption, since he had voluntarily renounced his right;
+besides it was not clear that I did the deed from greediness, for,
+according to his own statement, nothing had been stolen from the victim.
+He even went further. He told the Governor that he must give an account
+of the early life of his daughter, for then only it would be possible
+to decide whether I had spoken the truth or not. At the same time he
+adjourned the court for the day, in order, as he said, to consult the
+papers of the deceased, which the Governor would give him. I was again
+taken back to my prison, where I spent a wretched day, always fervently
+wishing that a link between the deceased and the "red-cloak" might be
+discovered. Full of hope, I entered the Court of Justice the next day.
+Several letters were lying upon the table. The old Senator asked me
+whether they were in my hand-writing. I looked at them and noticed that
+they must have been written by the same hand as the other two papers
+which I had received. I communicated this to the Senators, but no
+attention was paid to it, and they told me that I might have written
+both, for the signature of the letters was undoubtedly a Z., the first
+letter of my name. The letters, however, contained threats against the
+deceased, and warnings against the marriage which she was about to
+contract.
+
+The Governor seemed to have given extraordinary information concerning
+me, for I was treated with more suspicion and rigor on this day. I
+referred, to justify myself, to my papers which must be in my room, but
+was told they had been looked for without success. Thus at the
+conclusion of this sitting all hope vanished, and on being brought into
+the Court the third day, judgment was pronounced on me. I was convicted
+of wilful murder and condemned to death. Things had come to such a pass!
+Deserted by all that was precious to me upon earth, far away from home,
+I was to die innocently in the bloom of my life.
+
+On the evening of this terrible day which had decided my fate, I was
+sitting in my lonely cell, my hopes were gone, my thoughts steadfastly
+fixed upon death, when the door of my prison opened, and in came a man,
+who for a long time looked at me silently. "Is it thus I find you again,
+Zaleukos?" he said. I had not recognized him by the dim light of my
+lamp, but the sound of his voice roused in me old remembrances. It was
+Valetti, one of those few friends whose acquaintance I made in the city
+of Paris when I was studying there. He said that he had come to Florence
+accidentally, where his father, who was a distinguished man, lived. He
+had heard about my affair, and had come to see me once more, and to hear
+from my own lips how I could have committed such a crime. I related to
+him the whole affair. He seemed much surprised at it, and adjured me,
+as my only friend, to tell him all, in order not to leave the world with
+a lie behind me. I confirmed my assertions with an oath that I had
+spoken the truth, and that I was not guilty of anything, except that the
+glitter of the gold had dazzled me, and that I had not perceived the
+improbability of the story of the stranger. "Did you not know Bianca?"
+he asked me. I assured him that I had never seen her. Valetti now
+related to me that a profound mystery rested on the affair, that the
+Governor had very much accelerated my condemnation, and now a report was
+spread that I had known Bianca for a long time, and had murdered her out
+of revenge for her marriage with some one else. I told him that all this
+coincided exactly with the "red-cloak," but that I was unable to prove
+his participation in the affair. Valetti embraced me weeping, and
+promised me to do all, at least to save my life.
+
+I had little hope, though I knew that Valetti a clever man, well versed
+in the law, and that he would do all in his power to save my life. For
+two long days I was in uncertainty; at last Valetti appeared. "I bring
+consolation, though painful. You will live and be free with the loss of
+one hand." Affected, I thanked my friend for saving my life. He told me
+that the Governor had been inexorable in having the affair investigated
+a second time, but that he at last, in order not to appear unjust, had
+agreed, that if a similar case could be found in the law books of the
+history of Florence, my punishment should be the same as the one
+recorded in these books. He and his father had searched in the old books
+day and night, and at last found a case quite similar to mine. The
+sentence was: That his left hand be cut off, his property confiscated,
+and he himself banished for ever. This was my punishment also, and he
+asked me to prepare for the painful hour which awaited me. I will not
+describe to you that terrible hour, when I laid my hand upon the block
+in the public market-place and my own blood shot over me in broad
+streams.
+
+Valetti took me to his house until I had recovered; he then most
+generously supplied me with money for travelling, for all I had acquired
+with so much difficulty had fallen a prey to the law. I left Florence
+for Sicily and embarked on the first ship that I found for
+Constantinople. My hope was fixed upon the sum which I had entrusted to
+my friend. I also requested to be allowed to live with him. But how
+great was my astonishment on being asked why I did not wish to live in
+my own house. He told me that some unknown man had bought a house in the
+Greek Quarter in my name, and this very man had also told the neighbors
+of my early arrival. I immediately proceeded thither accompanied by my
+friend, and was received by all my old acquaintances joyfully. An old
+merchant gave me a letter, which the man who had bought the house for
+me had left behind. I read as follows: "Zaleukos! Two hands are prepared
+to work incessantly, in order that you may not feel the loss of one of
+yours. The house which you see and all its contents are yours, and every
+year you will receive enough to be counted amongst the rich of your
+people. Forgive him who is unhappier than yourself!" I could guess who
+had written it, and in answer to my question, the merchant told me it
+had been a man, whom he took for a Frank, and who had worn a scarlet
+cloak. I knew enough to understand that the stranger was, after all, not
+entirely devoid of noble intentions. In my new house I found everything
+arranged in the best style, also a vaulted room stored with goods, more
+splendid than I had ever had. Ten years have passed since. I still
+continue my commercial travels, more from old custom than necessity, yet
+I have never again seen that country where I became so unfortunate.
+Every year since, I have received a thousand gold-pieces; and although
+I rejoice to know that unfortunate man to be noble, yet he cannot
+relieve me of the sorrow of my soul, for the terrible picture of the
+murdered Bianca is continually on my mind.
+
+
+
+
+PETER SCHLEMIHL
+
+BY
+
+ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+After a prosperous, but to me very wearisome, voyage, we came at last
+into port. Immediately on landing I got together my few effects; and,
+squeezing myself through the crowd, went into the nearest and humblest
+inn which first met my gaze. On asking for a room the waiter looked at
+me from head to foot, and conducted me to one. I asked for some cold
+water, and for the correct address of Mr. Thomas John, which was
+described as being "by the north gate, the first country-house to the
+right, a large new house of red and white marble, with many pillars."
+This was enough. As the day was not yet far advanced, I untied my
+bundle, took out my newly-turned black coat, dressed myself in my best
+clothes, and, with my letter of recommendation, set out for the man who
+was to assist me in the attainment of my moderate wishes.
+
+After proceeding up the north street, I reached the gate, and saw the
+marble columns glittering through the trees. Having wiped the dust from
+my shoes with my pocket-handkerchief, and readjusted my cravat, I rang
+the bell--offering up at the same time a silent prayer. The door flew
+open, and the porter sent in my name. I had soon the honor to be invited
+into the park, where Mr. John was walking with a few friends. I
+recognized him at once by his corpulency and self- complacent air. He
+received me very well--just as a rich man receives a poor devil; and
+turning to me, took my letter. "Oh, from my brother! it is a long time
+since I heard from him: is he well?--Yonder," he went on,--turning to
+the company, and pointing to a distant hill--"yonder is the site of the
+new building." He broke the seal without discontinuing the conversation,
+which turned upon riches. "The man," he said, "who does not possess at
+least a million is a poor wretch." "Oh, how true!" I exclaimed, in the
+fulness of my heart. He seemed pleased at this, and replied with a
+smile: "Stop here, my dear friend; afterwards I shall, perhaps, have
+time to tell you what I think of this," pointing to the letter, which
+he then put into his pocket, and turned round to the company, offering
+his arm to a young lady: his example was followed by the other
+gentlemen, each politely escorting a lady; and the whole party proceeded
+towards a little hill thickly planted with blooming roses.
+
+I followed without troubling any one, for none took the least further
+notice of me. The party was in high spirits--lounging about and
+jesting--speaking sometimes of trifling matters very seriously, and of
+serious matters as triflingly--and exercising their wit in particular
+to great advantage on their absent friends and their affairs. I was too
+ignorant of what they were talking about to understand much of it, and
+too anxious and absorbed in my own reflections to occupy myself with the
+solution of such enigmas as their conversation presented.
+
+By this time we had reached the thicket of roses. The lovely Fanny, who
+seemed to be the queen of the day, was obstinately bent on plucking a
+rose-branch for herself, and in the attempt pricked her finger with a
+thorn. The crimson stream, as if flowing from the dark-tinted rose,
+tinged her fair hand with the purple current. This circumstance set the
+whole company in commotion; and court-plaster was called for. A quiet,
+elderly man, tall and meagre-looking, who was one of the company, but
+whom I had not before observed, immediately put his hand into the tight
+breast-pocket of his old-fashioned coat of gray sarcenet, pulled out a
+small letter-case, opened it, and, with a most respectful bow, presented
+the lady with the wished-for article. She received it without noticing
+the giver, or thanking him. The wound was bound up, and the party
+proceeded along the hill towards the back part, from which they enjoyed
+an extensive view across the green labyrinth of the park to the
+wide-spreading ocean. The view was truly a magnificent one. A slight
+speck was observed on the horizon, between the dark flood and the azure
+sky. "A telescope!" called out Mr. John; but before any of the servants
+could answer the summons the gray man, with a modest bow, drew his hand
+from his pocket, and presented a beautiful Dollond's telescope to Mr.
+John, who, on looking through it, informed the company that the speck
+in the distance was the ship which had sailed yesterday, and which was
+detained within sight of the haven by contrary winds. The telescope
+passed from hand to hand, but was not returned to the owner, whom I
+gazed at with astonishment, and could not conceive how so large an
+instrument could have proceeded from so small a pocket. This, however,
+seemed to excite surprise in no one; and the gray man appeared to create
+as little interest as myself.
+
+Refreshments were now brought forward, consisting of the rarest fruits
+from all parts of the world, served up in the most costly dishes. Mr.
+John did the honors with unaffected grace, and addressed me for the
+second time, saying, "You had better eat; you did not get such things
+at sea." I acknowledged his politeness with a bow, which, however, he
+did not perceive, having turned round to speak with some one else.
+
+The party would willingly have stopped some time here on the declivity
+of the hill, to enjoy the extensive prospect before them, had they not
+been apprehensive of the dampness of the grass. "How delightful it would
+be," exclaimed some one, "if we had a Turkey carpet to lay down here!"
+The wish was scarcely expressed when the man in the gray coat put his
+hand in his pocket, and, with a modest and even humble air, pulled out
+a rich Turkey carpet, embroidered in gold. The servant received it as
+a matter of course, and spread it out on the desired spot; and, without
+any ceremony, the company seated themselves on it. Confounded by what
+I saw, I gazed again at the man, his pocket, and the carpet, which was
+more than twenty feet in length and ten in breadth, and rubbed my eyes,
+not knowing what to think, particularly as no one saw anything
+extraordinary in the matter.
+
+I would gladly have made some inquiries respecting the man, and asked
+who he was, but knew not to whom I should address myself, for I felt
+almost more afraid of the servants than of their master. At length I
+took courage, and stepping up to a young man who seemed of less
+consequence than the others, and who was more frequently standing by
+himself, I begged of him, in a low tone, to tell me who the obliging
+gentleman was in the gray cloak. "That man who looks like a piece of
+thread just escaped from a tailor's needle?" "Yes; he who is standing
+alone yonder." "I do not know," was the reply; and to avoid, as it
+seemed, any further conversation with me, he turned away, and spoke of
+some commonplace matters with a neighbor.
+
+The sun's rays now being stronger, the ladies complained of feeling
+oppressed by the heat; and the lovely Fanny, turning carelessly to the
+gray man, to whom I had not yet observed that any one had addressed the
+most trifling question, asked him if, perhaps, he had not a tent about
+him. He replied, with a low bow, as if some unmerited honor had been
+conferred upon him; and, putting his hand in his pocket, drew from it
+canvas, poles, cord, iron--in short, everything belonging to the most
+splendid tent for a party of pleasure. The young gentlemen assisted in
+pitching it; and it covered the whole carpet; but no one seemed to think
+that there was anything extraordinary in it.
+
+I had long secretly felt uneasy--indeed, almost horrified; but how was
+this feeling increased when, at the next wish expressed, I saw him take
+from his pocket three horses! Yes, Adelbert, three large beautiful
+steeds, with saddles and bridles, out of the very pocket whence had
+already issued a letter-case, a telescope, a carpet twenty feet broad
+and ten in length, and a pavilion of the same extent, with all its
+appurtenances! Did I not assure thee that my own eyes had seen all this,
+thou wouldst certainly disbelieve it.
+
+This man, although he appeared so humble and embarrassed in his air and
+manners, and passed so unheeded, had inspired me with such a feeling of
+horror by the unearthly paleness of his countenance, from which I could
+not avert my eyes, that I was unable longer to endure it.
+
+I determined, therefore, to steal away from the company, which appeared
+no difficult matter, from the undistinguished part I acted in it. I
+resolved to return to the town, and pay another visit to Mr. John the
+following morning, and, at the same time, make some inquiries of him
+relative to the extraordinary man in gray, provided I could command
+sufficient courage. Would to Heaven that such good fortune had awaited
+me!
+
+I had stolen safely down the hill, through the thicket of roses, and now
+found myself on an open plain; but fearing lest I should be met out of
+the proper path, crossing the grass, I cast an inquisitive glance
+around, and started as I beheld the man in the gray cloak advancing
+towards me. He took off his hat, and made me a lower bow than mortal had
+ever yet favored me with. It was evident that he wished to address me;
+and I could not avoid encountering him without seeming rude. I returned
+his salutation, therefore, and stood bareheaded in the sunshine as if
+rooted to the ground. I gazed at him with the utmost horror, and felt
+like a bird fascinated by a serpent.
+
+He affected himself to have an air of embarassment. With his eyes on the
+ground, he bowed several times, drew nearer, and at last, without
+looking up, addressed me in a low and hesitating voice, almost in the
+tone of a suppliant: "Will you, sir, excuse my importunity in venturing
+to intrude upon you in so unusual a manner? I have a request to
+make--would you most graciously be pleased to allow me--?" "Hold! for
+Heaven's sake!" I exclaimed; "what can I do for a man who--" I stopped
+in some confusion, which he seemed to share. After a moment's pause he
+resumed: "During the short time I have had the pleasure to be in your
+company, I have--permit me, sir, to say--beheld with unspeakable
+admiration your most beautiful shadow, and remarked the air of noble
+indifference with which you, at the same time, turn from the glorious
+picture at your feet, as if disdaining to vouchsafe a glance at it.
+Excuse the boldness of my proposal; but perhaps you would have no
+objection to sell me your shadow?" He stopped, while my head turned
+round like a mill-wheel. What was I to think of so extraordinary a
+proposal? To sell my shadow! "He must be mad," thought I; and assuming
+a tone more in character with the submissiveness of his own, I replied,
+"My good friend, are you not content with your own shadow? This would
+be a bargain of a strange nature indeed!"
+
+"I have in my pocket," he said, "many things which may possess some
+value in your eyes: for that inestimable shadow I should deem the
+highest price too little."
+
+A cold shuddering came over me as I recollected the pocket; and I could
+not conceive what had induced me to style him "GOOD FRIEND," which I
+took care not to repeat, endeavoring to make up for it by studied
+politeness.
+
+I now resumed the conversation: "But, sir--excuse your humble servant--I
+am at a loss to comprehend your meaning,--my shadow?--how can I?"
+
+"Permit me," he exclaimed, interrupting me, "to gather up the noble
+image as it lies on the ground, and to take it into my possession. As
+to the manner of accomplishing it, leave that to me. In return, and as
+an evidence of my gratitude, I shall leave you to choose among all the
+treasures I have in my pocket, among which are a variety of enchanting
+articles, not exactly adapted for you, who, I am sure, would like better
+to have the wishing-cap of Fortunatus, all made new and sound again, and
+a lucky purse which also belonged to him."
+
+"Fortunatus's purse!" cried I; and, great as was my mental anguish, with
+that one word he had penetrated the deepest recesses of my soul. A
+feeling of giddiness came over me, and double ducats glittered before
+my eyes.
+
+"Be pleased, gracious sir, to examine this purse, and make a trial of
+its contents." He put his hand in his pocket, and drew forth a large
+strongly stitched bag of stout Cordovan leather, with a couple of
+strings to match, and presented it to me. I seized it--took out ten
+gold-pieces, then ten more, and this I repeated again and again.
+Instantly I held out my hand to him. "Done," said I; "the bargain is
+made: my shadow for the purse." "Agreed," he answered; and, immediately
+kneeling down, I beheld him, with extraordinary dexterity, gently loosen
+my shadow from the grass, lift it up, fold it together, and, at last,
+put it his pocket. He then rose, bowed once more to me, and directed his
+steps towards the rose bushes. I fancied I heard him quietly laughing
+to himself. However, I held the purse fast by the two strings. The earth
+was basking beneath the brightness of the sun; but I presently lost all
+consciousness.
+
+On recovering my senses, I hastened to quit a place where I hoped there
+was nothing further to detain me. I first filled my pockets with gold,
+then fastened the strings of the purse round my neck, and concealed it
+in my bosom. I passed unnoticed out of the park, gained the high-road,
+and took the way to the town. As I was thoughtfully approaching the
+gate, I heard some one behind me exclaiming: "Young man! young man! you
+have lost your shadow!" I turned, and perceived an old woman calling
+after me. "Thank you, my good woman," said I; and throwing her a piece
+of gold for her well-intended information, I stepped under the trees.
+At the gate, again, it was my fate to hear the sentry inquiring where
+the gentleman had left his shadow; and immediately I heard a couple of
+women exclaiming, "Jesu Maria! the poor man has no shadow." All this
+began to depress me, and I carefully avoided walking in the sun; but
+this could not everywhere be the case: for in the next broad street I
+had to cross, and, unfortunately for me, at the very hour in which the
+boys were coming out of school, a humpbacked lout of a fellow--I see him
+yet--soon made the discovery that I was without a shadow, and
+communicated the news, with loud outcries, to a knot of young urchins.
+The whole swarm proceeded immediately to reconnoitre me, and to pelt me
+with mud. "People," cried they, "are generally accustomed to take their
+shadows with them when they walk in the sunshine."
+
+In order to drive them away I threw gold by handfuls among them, and
+sprang into a hackney-coach which some compassionate spectators sent to
+my rescue.
+
+As soon as I found myself alone in the rolling vehicle I began to weep
+bitterly. I had by this time a misgiving that, in the same degree in
+which gold in this world prevails over merit and virtue, by so much
+one's shadow excels gold; and now that I had sacrificed my conscience
+for riches, and given my shadow in exchange for mere gold, what on earth
+would become of me?
+
+As the coach stopped at the door of my late inn, I felt much perplexed,
+and not at all disposed to enter so wretched an abode. I called for my
+things, and received them with an air of contempt, threw down a few
+gold-pieces, and desired to be conducted to a first-rate hotel. This
+house had a northern aspect, so that I had nothing to fear from the sun.
+I dismissed the coachman with gold, asked to be conducted to the best
+apartment, and locked myself up in it as soon as possible.
+
+Imagine, my friend, what I then set about? O my dear Chamisso! even to
+thee I blush to mention what follows.
+
+I drew the ill-fated purse from my bosom; and, in a sort of frenzy that
+raged like a self-fed fire within me, I took out gold--gold--gold--more
+and more, till I strewed it on the floor, trampled upon it, and feasting
+on its very sound and brilliancy, added coins to coins, rolling and
+revelling on the gorgeous bed, until I sank exhausted.
+
+Thus passed away that day and evening; and as my door remained locked,
+night found me still lying on the gold, where, at last, sleep
+overpowered me.
+
+Then I dreamed of thee, and fancied I stood behind the glass door of thy
+little room, and saw thee seated at thy table between a skeleton and a
+bunch of dried plants; before thee lay open the works of Haller,
+Humboldt, and Linnaeus; on thy sofa a volume of Goethe, and the
+Enchanted Ring. I stood a long time contemplating thee, and everything
+in thy apartment; and again turning my gaze upon thee, I perceived that
+thou wast motionless--thou didst not breathe--thou wast dead.
+
+I awoke--it seemed yet early--my watch had stopped. I felt thirsty,
+faint, and worn out; for since the preceding morning I had not tasted
+food. I now cast from me, with loathing and disgust, the very gold with
+which but a short time before I had satiated my foolish heart. Now I
+knew not where to put it--I dared not leave it lying there. I examined
+my purse to see if it would hold it,-- impossible! Neither of my windows
+opened on the sea. I had no other resource but, with toil and great
+fatigue, to drag it to a huge chest which stood in a closet in my room;
+where I placed it all, with the exception of a handful or two. Then I
+threw myself, exhausted, into an arm-chair, till the people of the house
+should be up and stirring. As soon as possible I sent for some
+refreshment, and desired to see the landlord.
+
+I entered into some conversation with this man respecting the
+arrangement of my future establishment. He recommended for my personal
+attendant one Bendel, whose honest and intelligent countenance
+immediately prepossessed me in his favor. It is this individual whose
+persevering attachment has consoled me in all the miseries of my life,
+and enabled me to bear up under my wretched lot. I was occupied the
+whole day in my room with servants in want of a situation, and tradesmen
+of every description. I decided on my future plans, and purchased
+various articles of vertu and splendid jewels, in order to get rid of
+some of my gold; but nothing seemed to diminish the inexhaustible heap.
+
+I now reflected on my situation with the utmost uneasiness. I dared not
+take a single step beyond my own door; and in the evening I had forty
+wax tapers lighted before I ventured to leave the shade. I reflected
+with horror on the frightful encounter with the schoolboys; yet I
+resolved, if I could command sufficient courage, to put the public
+opinion to a second trial. The nights were now moonlight. Late in the
+evening I wrapped myself in a large cloak, pulled my hat over my eyes,
+and, trembling like a criminal, stole out of the house.
+
+I did not venture to leave the friendly shadow of the houses until I had
+reached a distant part of the town; and then I emerged into the broad
+moonlight, fully prepared to hear my fate from the lips of the
+passers-by.
+
+Spare me, my beloved friend, the painful recital of all that I was
+doomed to endure. The women often expressed the deepest sympathy for
+me--a sympathy not less piercing to my soul than the scoffs of the young
+people, and the proud contempt of the men, particularly of the more
+corpulent, who threw an ample shadow before them. A fair and beauteous
+maiden, apparently accompanied by her parents, who gravely kept looking
+straight before them, chanced to cast a beaming glance on me; but was
+evidently startled at perceiving that I was without a shadow, and hiding
+her lovely face in her veil, and holding down her head, passed silently
+on.
+
+This was past all endurance. Tears streamed from my eyes; and with a
+heart pierced through and through, I once more took refuge in the shade.
+I leaned on the houses for support, and reached home at a late hour,
+worn out with fatigue.
+
+I passed a sleepless night. My first care the following morning was to
+devise some means of discovering the man in the gray cloak. Perhaps I
+may succeed in finding him; and how fortunate it were if he should be
+as ill satisfied with his bargain as I am with mine!
+
+I desired Bendel to be sent for, who seemed to possess some tact and
+ability. I minutely described to him the individual who possessed a
+treasure without which life itself was rendered a burden to me. I
+mentioned the time and place at which I had seen him, named all the
+persons who were present, and concluded with the following directions:
+He was to inquire for a Dollond's telescope, a Turkey carpet interwoven
+with gold, a marquee, and, finally, for some black steeds--the history,
+without entering into particulars, of all these being singularly
+connected with the mysterious character who seemed to pass unnoticed by
+every one, but whose appearance had destroyed the peace and happiness
+of my life.
+
+As I spoke I produced as much gold as I could hold in my two hands, and
+added jewels and precious stones of still greater value. "Bendel," said
+I, "this smooths many a path, and renders that easy which seems almost
+impossible. Be not sparing of it, for I am not so; but go, and rejoice
+thy master with intelligence on which depend all his hopes."
+
+He departed, and returned late and melancholy. None of Mr. John's
+servants, none of his guests (and Bendel had spoken to them all), had
+the slightest recollection of the man in the gray cloak. The new
+telescope was still there, but no one knew how it had come; and the tent
+and Turkey carpet were still stretched out on the hill. The servants
+boasted of their master's wealth; but no one seemed to know by what
+means he had become possessed of these newly acquired luxuries. He was
+gratified; and it gave him no concern to be ignorant how they had come
+to him. The black coursers which had been mounted on that day were in
+the stables of the young gentlemen of the party, who admired them as the
+munificent present of Mr. John.
+
+Such was the information I gained from Bendel's detailed account; but,
+in spite of this unsatisfactory result, his zeal and prudence deserved
+and received my commendation. In a gloomy mood, I made him a sign to
+withdraw.
+
+"I have, sir," he continued, "laid before you all the information in my
+power relative to the subject of the most importance to you. I have now
+a message to deliver which I received early this morning from a person
+at the gate, as I was proceeding to execute the commission in which I
+have so unfortunately failed. The man's words were precisely these:
+'Tell your master, Peter Schlemihl, he will not see me here again. I am
+going to cross the sea; a favorable wind now calls all the passengers
+on board; but in a year and a day I shall have the honor of paying him
+a visit; when, in all probability, I shall have a proposal to make to
+him of a very agreeable nature. Commend me to him most respectfully,
+with many thanks.' I inquired his name; but he said you would remember
+him."
+
+"What sort of a person was he?" cried I, in great emotion; and Bendel
+described the man in the gray coat feature by feature, word for word;
+in short, the very individual in search of whom he had been sent. "How
+unfortunate!" cried I bitterly; "it was himself." Scales, as it were,
+fell from Bendel's eyes. "Yes, it was he," cried he, "undoubtedly it was
+he; and fool, madman, that I was, I did not recognize him--I did not,
+and I have betrayed my master!" He then broke out into a torrent of
+self-reproach; and his distress really excited my compassion. I
+endeavored to console him, repeatedly assuring him that I entertained
+no doubt of his fidelity; and despatched him immediately to the wharf,
+to discover, if possible, some trace of the extraordinary being. But on
+that very morning many vessels which had been detained in port by
+contrary winds had set sail, all bound to different parts of the globe;
+and the gray man had disappeared like a shadow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+Of what use were wings to a man fast bound in chains of iron? They would
+but increase the horror of his despair. Like the dragon guarding his
+treasure, I remained cut off from all human intercourse, and starving
+amidst my very gold, for it gave me no pleasure: I anathematized it as
+the source of all my wretchedness.
+
+Sole depository of my fearful secret, I trembled before the meanest of
+my attendants, whom, at the same time, I envied; for he possessed a
+shadow, and could venture to go out in the day-time, while I shut myself
+up in my room day and night, and indulged in all the bitterness of
+grief.
+
+One individual, however, was daily pining away before my eyes--my
+faithful Bendel, who was the victim of silent self-reproach, tormenting
+himself with the idea that he had betrayed the confidence reposed in him
+by a good master, in failing to recognize the individual in quest of
+whom he had been sent, and with whom he had been led to believe that my
+melancholy fate was closely connected. Still, I had nothing to accuse
+him with, as I recognized in the occurrence the mysterious character of
+the unknown.
+
+In order to leave no means untried, I one day despatched Bendel with a
+costly ring to the most celebrated artist in the town, desiring him to
+wait upon me. He came; and, dismissing the attendants, I secured the
+door, placing myself opposite to him, and, after extolling his art, with
+a heavy heart came to the point, first enjoining the strictest secrecy.
+
+"For a person," said I, "who most unfortunately has lost his shadow,
+could you paint a false one?"
+
+"Do you speak of the natural shadow?"
+
+"Precisely so."
+
+"But," he asked, "by what awkward negligence can a man have lost his
+shadow?"
+
+"How it occurred," I answered, "is of no consequence; but it was in this
+manner"--(and here I uttered an unblushing falsehood)--"he was
+travelling in Russia last winter, and one bitterly cold day it froze so
+intensely, that his shadow remained so fixed to the ground, that it was
+found impossible to remove it."
+
+"The false shadow that I might paint," said the artist, "would be liable
+to be lost on the slightest movement, particularly in a person who, from
+your account, cares so little about his shadow. A person without a
+shadow should keep out of the sun, that is the only safe and rational
+plan."
+
+He arose and took his leave, casting so penetrating a look at me that
+I shrank from it. I sank back in my chair, and hid my face in my hands.
+
+In this attitude Bendel found me, and was about to withdraw silently and
+respectfully on seeing me in such a state of grief: looking up,
+overwhelmed with my sorrows, I felt that I must communicate them to him.
+"Bendel," I exclaimed, "Bendel, thou the only being who seest and
+respectest my grief too much to inquire into its cause--thou who seemest
+silently and sincerely to sympathize with me--come and share my
+confidence. The extent of my wealth I have not withheld from thee,
+neither will I conceal from thee the extent of my grief. Bendel! forsake
+me not. Bendel, you see me rich, free, beneficent; you fancy all the
+world in my power; yet you must have observed that I shun it, and avoid
+all human intercourse. You think, Bendel, that the world and I are at
+variance; and you yourself, perhaps, will abandon me, when I acquaint
+you with this fearful secret. Bendel, I am rich, free, generous; but,
+O God, I have NO SHADOW!
+
+"No shadow!" exclaimed the faithful young man, tears starting from his
+eyes. "Alas! that I am born to serve a master without a shadow!" He was
+silent, and again I hid my face in my hands.
+
+"Bendel," at last I tremblingly resumed, "you have now my confidence;
+you may betray me--go--bear witness against me!"
+
+He seemed to be agitated with conflicting feelings; at last he threw
+himself at my feet and seized my hand, which he bathed with his tears.
+
+"No," he exclaimed; "whatever the world may say, I neither can nor will
+forsake my excellent master because he has lost his shadow. I will
+rather do what is right than what may seem prudent. I will remain with
+you--I will shade you with my own shadow--I will assist you when I
+can--and when I cannot, I will weep with you."
+
+I fell upon his neck, astonished at sentiments so unusual; for it was
+very evident that he was not prompted by the love of money.
+
+My mode of life and my fate now became somewhat different. It is
+incredible with what provident foresight Bendel contrived to conceal my
+deficiency. Everywhere he was before me, and with me, providing against
+every contingency, and in cases of unlooked-for danger, flying to shield
+me with his own shadow, for he was taller and stouter than myself. Thus
+I once more ventured among mankind, and began to take a part in worldly
+affairs. I was compelled, indeed, to affect certain peculiarities and
+whims; but in a rich man they seem only appropriate; and so long as the
+truth was kept concealed I enjoyed all the honor and respect which gold
+could procure.
+
+I now looked forward with more composure to the promised visit of the
+mysterious unknown at the expiration of the year and a day.
+
+I was very sensible that I could not venture to remain long in a place
+where I had once been seen without a shadow, and where I might easily
+be betrayed; and perhaps, too, I recollected my first introduction to
+Mr. John, and this was by no means a pleasing reminiscence. However, I
+wished just to make a trial here, that I might with greater ease and
+security visit some other place. But my vanity for some time withheld
+me, for it is in this quality of our race that the anchor takes the
+firmest hold.
+
+Even the lovely Fanny, whom I again met in several places, without her
+seeming to recollect that she had ever seen me before, bestowed some
+notice on me; for wit and understanding were mine in abundance now. When
+I spoke, I was listened to; and I was at a loss to know how I had so
+easily acquired the art of commanding attention, and giving the tone to
+the conversation.
+
+The impression which I perceived I had made upon this fair one
+completely turned my brain; and this was just what she wished. After
+that, I pursued her with infinite pains through every obstacle. My
+vanity was only intent on exciting hers to make a conquest of me; but
+although the intoxication disturbed my head, it failed to make the least
+impression on my heart.
+
+But why detail to you the oft-repeated story which I have so often heard
+from yourself?
+
+However, in the old and well-known drama in which I played so worn-out
+a part, a catastrophe occurred of quite a peculiar nature, in a manner
+equally unexpected to her, to me, and to everybody.
+
+One beautiful evening I had, according to my usual custom, assembled a
+party in a garden, and was walking arm-in-arm with Fanny at a little
+distance from the rest of the company, and pouring into her ear the
+usual well-turned phrases, while she was demurely gazing on vacancy, and
+now and then gently returning the pressure of my hand. The moon suddenly
+emerged from behind a cloud at our back. Fanny perceived only her own
+shadow before us. She started, looked at me with terror, and then again
+on the ground, in search of my shadow. All that was passing in her mind
+was so strangely depicted in her countenance, that I should have burst
+into a loud fit of laughter had I not suddenly felt my blood run cold
+within me. I suffered her to fall from my arm in a fainting-fit; shot
+with the rapidity of an arrow through the astonished guests, reached the
+gate, threw myself into the first conveyance I met with, and returned
+to the town, where this time, unfortunately, I had left the wary Bendel.
+He was alarmed on seeing me: one word explained all. Post-horses were
+immediately procured. I took with me none of my servants, one cunning
+knave only excepted, called Rascal, who had by his adroitness become
+very serviceable to me, and who at present knew nothing of what had
+occurred. I travelled thirty leagues that night; having left Bendel
+behind to discharge my servants, pay my debts, and bring me all that was
+necessary.
+
+When he came up with me next day, I threw myself into his arms, vowing
+to avoid such follies and to be more careful for the future.
+
+We pursued our journey uninterruptedly over the frontiers and mountains;
+and it was not until I had placed this lofty barrier between myself and
+the before- mentioned unlucky town that I was persuaded to recruit
+myself after my fatigues in a neighboring and little-frequented
+watering-place.
+
+I must now pass rapidly over one period of my history, on which how
+gladly would I dwell, could I conjure up your lively powers of
+delineation! But the vivid hues which are at your command, and which
+alone can give life and animation to the picture, have left no trace
+within me; and were I now to endeavor to recall the joys, the griefs,
+the pure and enchanting emotions, which once held such powerful dominion
+in my breast, it would be like striking a rock which yields no longer
+the living spring, and whose spirit has fled for ever. With what an
+altered aspect do those bygone days now present themselves to my gaze!
+
+In this watering-place I acted an heroic character, badly studied; and
+being a novice on such a stage, I forgot my part before a pair of lovely
+blue eyes.
+
+All possible means were used by the infatuated parents to conclude the
+bargain; and deception put an end to these usual artifices. And that is
+all--all.
+
+The powerful emotions which once swelled my bosom seem now in the
+retrospect to be poor and insipid, nay, even terrible to me.
+
+Alas, Minna! as I wept for thee the day I lost thee, so do I now weep
+that I can no longer retrace thine image in my soul.
+
+Am I, then, so far advanced into the vale of years? O fatal effects of
+maturity! would that I could feel one throb, one emotion of former days
+of enchantment-- alas, not one! a solitary being, tossed on the wild
+ocean of life--it is long since I drained thine enchanted cup to the
+dregs!
+
+But to return to my narrative. I had sent Bendel to the little town with
+plenty of money to procure me a suitable habitation. He spent my gold
+profusely; and as he expressed himself rather reservedly concerning his
+distinguished master (for I did not wish to be named), the good people
+began to form rather extraordinary conjectures.
+
+As soon as my house was ready for my reception, Bendel returned to
+conduct me to it. We set out on our journey. About a league from the
+town, on a sunny plain, we were stopped by a crowd of people, arrayed
+in holiday attire for some festival. The carriage stopped. Music, bells,
+cannons, were heard; and loud acclamations rang through the air.
+
+Before the carriage now appeared in white dresses a chorus of maidens,
+all of extraordinary beauty; but one of them shone in resplendent
+loveliness, and eclipsed the rest as the sun eclipses the stars of
+night. She advanced from the midst of her companions, and, with a lofty
+yet winning air, blushingly knelt before me, presenting on a silken
+cushion a wreath, composed of laurel branches, the olive, and the rose,
+saying something respecting majesty, love, honor, etc., which I could
+not comprehend; but the sweet and silvery magic of her tones intoxicated
+my senses and my whole soul: it seemed as if some heavenly apparition
+were hovering over me. The chorus now began to sing the praises of a
+good sovereign and the happiness of his subjects. All this, dear
+Chamisso, took place in the sun: she was kneeling two steps from me, and
+I, without a shadow, could not dart through the air, nor fall on my
+knees before the angelic being. Oh, what would I not now have given for
+a shadow! To conceal my shame, agony, and despair, I buried myself in
+the recesses of the carriage. Bendel at last thought of an expedient;
+he jumped out of the carriage. I called him back, and gave him out of
+the casket I had by me a rich diamond coronet, which had been intended
+for the lovely Fanny.
+
+He stepped forward, and spoke in the name of his master, who, he said,
+was overwhelmed by so many demonstrations of respect, which he really
+could not accept as an honor--there must be some error; nevertheless he
+begged to express his thanks for the goodwill of the worthy townspeople.
+In the meantime Bendel had taken the wreath from the cushion, and laid
+the brilliant crown in its place. He then respectfully raised the lovely
+girl from the ground; and, at one sign, the clergy, magistrates, and all
+the deputations withdrew. The crowd separated to allow the horses to
+pass, and we pursued our way to the town at full gallop, through arches
+ornamented with flowers and branches of laurel. Salvos of artillery
+again were heard. The carriage stopped at my gate; I hastened through
+the crowd which curiosity had attracted to witness my arrival.
+Enthusiastic shouts resounded under my windows, from whence I showered
+gold amidst the people; and in the evening the whole town was
+illuminated. Still all remained a mystery to me, and I could not imagine
+for whom I had been taken. I sent Rascal out to make inquiry; and he
+soon obtained intelligence that the good King of Prussia was travelling
+through the country under the name of some count; that my aide-de-camp
+had been recognized, and that he had divulged the secret; that on
+acquiring the certainty that I would enter their town, their joy had
+known no bounds: however, as they perceived I was determined on
+preserving the strictest incognito, they felt how wrong they had been
+in too importunately seeking to withdraw the veil; but I had received
+them so condescendingly and so graciously, that they were sure I would
+forgive them. The whole affair was such capital amusement to the
+unprincipled Rascal, that he did his best to confirm the good people in
+their belief, while affecting to reprove them. He gave me a very comical
+account of the matter; and, seeing that I was amused by it, actually
+endeavored to make a merit of his impudence.
+
+Shall I own the truth? My vanity was flattered by having been mistaken
+for our revered sovereign. I ordered a banquet to be got ready for the
+following evening, under the trees before my house, and invited the
+whole town. The mysterious power of my purse, Bendel's exertions, and
+Rascal's ready invention made the shortness of the time seem as nothing.
+
+It was really astonishing how magnificently and beautifully everything
+was arranged in these few hours. Splendor and abundance vied with each
+other, and the lights were so carefully arranged that I felt quite safe:
+the zeal of my servants met every exigency and merited all praise.
+
+Evening drew on, the guests arrived, and were presented to me. The word
+MAJESTY was now dropped; but, with the deepest respect and humility, I
+was addressed as the COUNT. What could I do? I accepted the title, and
+from that moment I was known as Count Peter. In the midst of all this
+festivity my soul pined for one individual. She came late--she who was
+the empress of the scene, and wore the emblem of sovereignty on her
+brow.
+
+She modestly accompanied her parents, and seemed unconscious of her
+transcendent beauty.
+
+The Ranger of the Forests, his wife, and daughter were presented to me.
+I was at no loss to make myself agreeable to the parents; but before the
+daughter I stood like a well-scolded schoolboy, incapable of speaking
+a single word.
+
+At length I hesitatingly entreated her to honor my banquet by presiding
+at it-- an office for which her rare endowments pointed her out as
+admirably fitted. With a blush and an expressive glance she entreated
+to be excused; but, in still greater confusion than herself, I
+respectfully begged her to accept the homage of the first and most
+devoted of her subjects, and one glance of the count was the same as a
+command to the guests, who all vied with each other in acting up to the
+spirit of the noble host.
+
+In her person, majesty, innocence, and grace, in union with beauty,
+presided over this joyous banquet. Minna's happy parents were elated by
+the honors conferred upon their child. As for me, I abandoned myself to
+all the intoxication of delight: I sent for all the jewels, pearls, and
+precious stones still left to me--the produce of my fatal wealth--and,
+filling two vases, I placed them on the table, in the name of the queen
+of the banquet, to be divided among her companions and the remainder of
+the ladies.
+
+I ordered gold, in the meantime, to be showered down without ceasing
+among the happy multitude.
+
+Next morning Bendel told me in confidence that the suspicions he had
+long entertained of Rascal's honesty were now reduced to a certainty;
+he had yesterday embezzled many bags of gold.
+
+"Never mind," said I; "let him enjoy his paltry booty. _I_ like to spend
+it; why should not he? Yesterday he, and all the newly-engaged servants
+whom you had hired, served me honorably, and cheerfully assisted me to
+enjoy the banquet."
+
+No more was said on the subject. Rascal remained at the head of my
+domestics. Bendel was my friend and confidant; he had by this time
+become accustomed to look upon my wealth as inexhaustible, without
+seeking to inquire into its source. He entered into all my schemes, and
+effectually assisted me in devising methods of spending my money.
+
+Of the pale, sneaking scoundrel--the unknown--Bendel only knew thus
+much, that he alone had power to release me from the curse which weighed
+so heavily on me, and yet that I stood in awe of him on whom all my
+hopes rested. Besides, I felt convinced that he had the means of
+discovering ME under any circumstances, while he himself remained
+concealed. I therefore abandoned my fruitless inquiries, and patiently
+awaited the appointed day.
+
+The magnificence of my banquet, and my deportment on the occasion, had
+but strengthened the credulous townspeople in their previous belief.
+
+It appeared soon after, from accounts in the newspapers, that the whole
+history of the King of Prussia's fictitious journey originated in mere
+idle report. But a king I was, and a king I must remain by all means;
+and one of the richest and most royal, although people were at a loss
+to know where my territories lay.
+
+The world has never had reason to lament the scarcity of monarchs,
+particularly in these days; and the good people, who had never yet seen
+a king, now fancied me to be first one, and then another, with equal
+success; and in the meanwhile I remained as before, Count Peter.
+
+Among the visitors at this watering-place a merchant made his
+appearance, one who had become a bankrupt in order to enrich himself.
+He enjoyed the general good opinion; for he projected a shadow of
+respectable size, though of somewhat faint hue.
+
+This man wished to show off in this place by means of his wealth, and
+sought to rival me. My purse soon enabled me to leave the poor devil far
+behind. To save his credit he became bankrupt again, and fled beyond the
+mountains; and thus I was rid of him. Many a one in this place was
+reduced to beggary and ruin through my means.
+
+In the midst of the really princely magnificence and profusion, which
+carried all before me, my own style of living was very simple and
+retired. I had made it a point to observe the strictest precaution; and,
+with the exception of Bendel, no one was permitted, on any pretence
+whatever, to enter my private apartment. As long as the sun shone I
+remained shut up with him; and the Count was then said to be deeply
+occupied in his closet. The numerous couriers, whom I kept in constant
+attendance about matters of no importance, were supposed to be the
+bearers of my despatches. I only received company in the evening under
+the trees of my garden, or in my saloons, after Bendel's assurance of
+their being carefully and brilliantly lit up.
+
+My walks, in which the Argus-eyed Bendel was constantly on the watch for
+me, extended only to the garden of the forest-ranger, to enjoy the
+society of one who was dear to me as my own existence.
+
+Oh, my Chamisso! I trust thou hast not forgotten what love is! I must
+here leave much to thine imagination. Minna was in truth an amiable and
+excellent maiden: her whole soul was wrapped up in me, and in her lowly
+thoughts of herself she could not imagine how she had deserved a single
+thought from me. She returned love for love with all the full and
+youthful fervor of an innocent heart; her love was a true woman's love,
+with all the devotion and total absence of selfishness which is found
+only in woman; she lived but in me, her whole soul being bound up in
+mine, regardless what her own fate might be.
+
+Yet I, alas, during those hours of wretchedness--hours I would even now
+gladly recall--how often have I wept on Bendel's bosom, when after the
+first mad whirlwind of passion I reflected, with the keenest
+self-upbraidings, that I, a shadowless man, had, with cruel selfishness,
+practised a wicked deception, and stolen away the pure and angelic heart
+of the innocent Minna!
+
+At one moment I resolved to confess all to her; then that I would fly
+for ever; then I broke out into a flood of bitter tears, and consulted
+Bendel as to the means of meeting her again in the forester's garden.
+
+At times I flattered myself with great hopes from the near approaching
+visit of the unknown; then wept again, because I saw clearly on
+reflection that they would end in disappointment. I had made a
+calculation of the day fixed on by the fearful being for our interview;
+for he had said in a year and a day, and I depended on his word.
+
+The parents were worthy old people, devoted to their only child; and our
+mutual affection was a circumstance so overwhelming that they knew not
+how to act. They had never dreamed for a moment that the COUNT could
+bestow a thought on their daughter; but such was the case--he loved and
+was beloved. The pride of the mother might not have led her to consider
+such an alliance quite impossible, but so extravagant an idea had never
+entered the contemplation of the sounder judgment of the old man. Both
+were satisfied of the sincerity of my love, and could but put up prayers
+to Heaven for the happiness of their child.
+
+A letter which I received from Minna about that time has just fallen
+into my hands. Yes, these are the characters traced by her own hand. I
+will transcribe the letter:
+
+"I am indeed a weak, foolish girl to fancy that the friend I so tenderly
+love could give an instant's pain to his poor Minna! Oh no! thou art so
+good, so inexpressibly good! But do not misunderstand me. I will accept
+no sacrifice at thy hands--none whatever. Oh heavens! I should hate
+myself! No; thou hast made me happy, thou hast taught me to love thee.
+
+"Go, then--let me not forget my destiny--Count Peter belongs not to me,
+but to the whole world; and oh! what pride for thy Minna to hear thy
+deeds proclaimed, and blessings invoked on thy idolized head! Ah! when
+I think of this, I could chide thee that thou shouldst for one instant
+forget thy high destiny for the sake of a simple maiden! Go, then;
+otherwise the reflection will pierce me. How blest I have been rendered
+by thy love! Perhaps, also, I have planted some flowers in the path of
+thy life, as I twined them in the wreath which I presented to thee.
+
+"Go, then--fear not to leave me--you are too deeply seated in my
+heart--I shall die inexpressibly happy in thy love."
+
+Conceive how these words pierced my soul, Chamisso!
+
+I declared to her that I was not what I seemed--that, although a rich,
+I was an unspeakably miserable man--that a curse was on me, which must
+remain a secret, although the only one between us--yet that I was not
+without a hope of its being removed--that this poisoned every hour of
+my life--that I should plunge her with me into the abyss--she, the light
+and joy, the very soul of my existence. Then she wept because I was
+unhappy. Oh! Minna was all love and tenderness. To save me one tear she
+would gladly have sacrificed her life. Yet she was far from
+comprehending the full meaning of my words. She still looked upon me as
+some proscribed prince or illustrious exile; and her vivid imagination
+had invested her lover with every lofty attribute.
+
+One day I said to her, "Minna, the last day in next month will decide
+my fate, and perhaps change it for the better; if not, I would sooner
+die than render you miserable."
+
+She laid her head on my shoulder to conceal her tears. "Should thy fate
+be changed," she said, "I only wish to know that thou art happy; if thy
+condition is an unhappy one, I will share it with thee, and assist thee
+to support it."
+
+"Minna, Minna!" I exclaimed, "recall those rash words--those mad words
+which have escaped thy lips! Didst thou know the misery and curse--didst
+thou know who--what--thy lover ... Seest thou not, my Minna, this
+convulsive shuddering which thrills my whole frame, and that there is
+a secret in my breast which you cannot penetrate?" She sank sobbing at
+my feet, and renewed her vows and entreaties.
+
+Her father now entered, and I declared to him my intention to solicit
+the hand of his daughter on the first day of the month after the ensuing
+one. I fixed that time, I told him, because circumstances might probably
+occur in the interval materially to influence my future destiny; but my
+love for his daughter was unchangeable.
+
+The good old man started at hearing such words from the mouth of Count
+Peter. He fell upon my neck, and rose again in the utmost confusion for
+having forgotten himself. Then he began to doubt, to ponder, and to
+scrutinize; and spoke of dowry, security, and future provision for his
+beloved child. I thanked him for having reminded me of all this, and
+told him it was my wish to remain in a country where I seemed to be
+beloved, and to lead a life free from anxiety. I then commissioned him
+to purchase the finest estate in the neighborhood in the name of his
+daughter--for a father was the best person to act for his daughter in
+such a case--and to refer for payment to me. This occasioned him a good
+deal of trouble, as a stranger had everywhere anticipated him; but at
+last he made a purchase for about L150,000.
+
+I confess this was but an innocent artifice to get rid of him, as I had
+frequently done before; for it must be confessed that he was somewhat
+tedious. The good mother was rather deaf, and not jealous, like her
+husband, of the honor of conversing with the Count.
+
+The happy party pressed me to remain with them longer this evening. I
+dared not --I had not a moment to lose. I saw the rising moon streaking
+the horizon--my hour was come.
+
+Next evening I went again to the forester's garden. I had wrapped myself
+closely up in my cloak, slouched my hat over my eyes, and advanced
+towards Minna. As she raised her head and looked at me, she started
+involuntarily. The apparition of that dreadful night in which I had been
+seen without a shadow was now standing distinctly before me--it was she
+herself. Had she recognized me? She was silent and thoughtful. I felt
+an oppressive load at my heart. I rose from my seat. She laid her head
+on my shoulder, still silent and in tears. I went away.
+
+I now found her frequently weeping. I became more and more melancholy.
+Her parents were beyond expression happy. The eventful day approached,
+threatening and heavy, like a thunder-cloud. The evening preceding
+arrived. I could scarcely breathe. I had carefully filled a large chest
+with gold, and sat down to await the appointed time--the twelfth
+hour--it struck.
+
+Now I remained with my eyes fixed on the hand of the clock, counting the
+seconds--the minutes--which struck me to the heart like daggers. I
+started at every sound--at last daylight appeared. The leaden hours
+passed on--morning-- evening--night came. Hope was fast fading away as
+the hand advanced. It struck eleven--no one appeared--the last
+minutes--the first and last stroke of the twelfth hour died away. I sank
+back in my bed in an agony of weeping. In the morning I should,
+shadowless as I was, claim the hand of my beloved Minna. A heavy sleep
+towards daylight closed my eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+It was yet early, when I was suddenly awoke by voices in hot dispute in
+my ante- chamber. I listened. Bendel was forbidding Rascal to enter my
+room, who swore he would receive no orders from his equals, and insisted
+on forcing his way. The faithful Bendel reminded him that if such words
+reached his master's ears, he would turn him out of an excellent place.
+Rascal threatened to strike him if he persisted in refusing his
+entrance.
+
+By this time, having half-dressed myself, I angrily threw open the door,
+and addressing myself to Rascal, inquired what he meant by such
+disgraceful conduct. He drew back a couple of steps, and coolly
+answered: "Count Peter, may I beg most respectfully that you will favor
+me with a sight of your shadow? The sun is now shining brightly in the
+court below."
+
+I stood as if struck by a thunderbolt, and for some time was unable to
+speak. At last I asked him how a servant could dare to behave so towards
+his master. He interrupted me by saying, quite coolly, "A servant may
+be a very honorable man, and unwilling to serve a shadowless master--I
+request my dismissal."
+
+I felt that I must adopt a softer tone, and replied, "But, Rascal, my
+good fellow, who can have put such strange ideas into your head? How can
+you imagine-
+-"
+
+He again interrupted me in the same tone--
+
+"People say you have no shadow. In short, let me see your shadow, or
+give me my dismissal."
+
+Bendel, pale and trembling, but more collected than myself, made a sign
+to me. I had recourse to the all-powerful influence of gold. But even
+gold had lost its power--Rascal threw it at my feet: "From a shadowless
+man," he said, "I will take nothing."
+
+Turning his back upon me, and putting on his hat, he then slowly left
+the room, whistling a tune. I stood, with Bendel, as if petrified,
+gazing after him.
+
+With a deep sigh and a heavy heart I now prepared to keep my engagement,
+and to appear in the forester's garden like a criminal before his judge.
+I entered by the shady arbor, which had received the name of Count
+Peter's arbor, where we had appointed to meet. The mother advanced with
+a cheerful air; Minna sat fair and beautiful as the early snow of autumn
+reposing on the departing flowers, soon to be dissolved and lost in the
+cold stream.
+
+The ranger, with a written paper in his hand, was walking up and down
+in an agitated manner, struggling to suppress his feelings--his usually
+unmoved countenance being one moment flushed and the next perfectly
+pale. He came forward as I entered, and, in a faltering voice, requested
+a private conversation with me. The path by which he requested me to
+follow him led to an open spot in the garden, where the sun was shining.
+I sat down. A long silence ensued, which even the good woman herself did
+not venture to break. The ranger, in an agitated manner, paced up and
+down with unequal steps. At last he stood still; and glancing over the
+paper he held in his hand, he said, addressing me with a penetrating
+look, "Count Peter, do you know one Peter Schlemihl?" I was silent.
+
+"A man," he continued, "of excellent character and extraordinary
+endowments."
+
+He paused for an answer. "And supposing I myself were that very man?"
+
+"You!" he exclaimed passionately; "he has lost his shadow!"
+
+"Oh, my suspicion is true!" cried Minna; "I have long known it--he has
+no shadow!" And she threw herself into her mother's arms, who,
+convulsively clasping her to her bosom, reproached her for having so
+long, to her hurt, kept such a secret. But, like the fabled Arethusa,
+her tears, as from a fountain, flowed more abundantly, and her sobs
+increased at my approach.
+
+"And so," said the ranger fiercely, "you have not scrupled, with
+unparalleled shamelessness, to deceive both her and me; and you
+pretended to love her, forsooth!--her whom you have reduced to the state
+in which you now see her. See how she weeps!--Oh, shocking, shocking!"
+
+By this time I had lost all presence of mind; and I answered,
+confusedly: "After all, it is but a shadow, a mere shadow, which a man
+can do very well without; and really it is not worth the while to make
+all this noise about such a trifle." Feeling the groundlessness of what
+I was saying, I ceased, and no one condescended to reply. At last I
+added: "What is lost to-day may be found to- morrow."
+
+"Be pleased, sir," continued the ranger, in great wrath--"be pleased to
+explain how you have lost your shadow."
+
+Here again an excuse was ready: "A boor of a fellow," said I, "one day
+trod so rudely on my shadow that he tore a large hole in it. I sent it
+to be repaired-- for gold can do wonders--and yesterday I expected it
+home again."
+
+"Very well," answered the ranger. "You are a suitor my daughter's hand,
+and so are others. As a father, I am bound to provide for her. I will
+give you three days to seek your shadow. Return to me in the course of
+that time with a well- fitted shadow, and you shall receive a hearty
+welcome; otherwise, on the fourth day--remember, on the fourth day--my
+daughter becomes the wife of another."
+
+I now attempted to say one word to Minna; but, sobbing more violently,
+she clung still closer to her mother, who made a sign for me to
+withdraw. I obeyed; and now the world seemed shut out from me for ever.
+
+Having escaped from the affectionate care of Bendel, I now wandered
+wildly through the neighboring woods and meadows. Drops of anguish fell
+from my brow, deep groans burst from my bosom--frenzied despair raged
+within me.
+
+I knew not how long this had lasted, when I felt myself seized by the
+sleeve on a sunny heath. I stopped, and looking up, beheld the
+gray-coated man, who appeared to have run himself out of breath in
+pursuing me. He immediately began: "I had," said he, "appointed this
+day; but your impatience anticipated it. All, however, may yet be right.
+Take my advice--redeem your shadow, which is at your command, and return
+immediately to the ranger's garden, where you will be well received, and
+all the past will seem a mere joke. As for Rascal--who has betrayed you
+in order to pay his addresses to Minna--leave him to me; he is just a
+fit subject for me."
+
+I stood like one in a dream. "This day?" I considered again. He was
+right--I had made a mistake of a day. I felt in my bosom for the purse.
+He perceived my intention, and drew back.
+
+"No, Count Peter; the purse is in good hands--pray keep it." I gazed at
+him with looks of astonishment and inquiry. "I only beg a trifle as a
+token of remembrance. Be so good as to sign this memorandum." On the
+parchment, which he held out to me, were these words: "By virtue of this
+present, to which I have appended my signature, I hereby bequeath my
+soul to the holder, after its natural separation from my body."
+
+I gazed in mute astonishment alternately at the paper and the gray
+unknown. In the meantime he had dipped a new pen in a drop of blood
+which was issuing from a scratch in my hand just made by a thorn. He
+presented it to me. "Who are you?" at last I exclaimed. "What can it
+signify?" he answered: "do you not perceive who I am? A poor devil--a
+sort of scholar and philosopher, who obtains but poor thanks from his
+friends for his admirable arts, and whose only amusement on earth
+consists in his small experiments. But just sign this; to the right,
+exactly underneath--Peter Schlemihl."
+
+I shook my head, and replied: "Excuse me, sir; I cannot sign that."
+
+"Cannot!" he exclaimed; "and why not?"
+
+"Because it appears to me a hazardous thing to exchange my soul for my
+shadow."
+
+"Hazardous!" he exclaimed, bursting into a loud laugh. "And, pray, may
+I be allowed to inquire what sort of a thing your soul is?--have you
+ever seen it?-- and what do you mean to do with it after your death? You
+ought to think yourself fortunate in meeting with a customer who, during
+your life, in exchange for this infinitely minute quantity, this
+galvanic principle, this polarized agency, or whatever other foolish
+name you may give it, is willing to bestow on you something
+substantial--in a word, your own identical shadow, by virtue of which
+you will obtain your beloved Minna, and arrive at the accomplishment of
+all your wishes; or do you prefer giving up the poor young girl to the
+power of that contemptible scoundrel Rascal? Nay, you shall behold her
+with your own eyes. Come here; I will lend you an invisible cap (he drew
+something out of his pocket), and we will enter the ranger's garden
+unseen."
+
+I must confess that I felt excessively ashamed to be thus laughed at by
+the gray stranger. I detested him from the very bottom of my soul; and
+I really believe this personal antipathy, more than principle or
+previously formed opinion, restrained me from purchasing my shadow, much
+as I stood in need of it, at such an expense. Besides, the thought was
+insupportable of making this proposed visit in his society. To behold
+this hateful sneak, this mocking fiend, place himself between me and my
+beloved, between our torn and bleeding hearts, was too revolting an idea
+to be entertained for a moment. I considered the past as irrevocable,
+my own misery as inevitable; and turning to the gray man, I said: "I
+have exchanged my shadow for this very extraordinary purse, and I have
+sufficiently repented it. For Heaven's sake, let the transaction be
+declared null and void!" He shook his head, and his countenance assumed
+an expression of the most sinister cast. I continued: "I will make no
+exchange whatever, even for the sake of my shadow, nor will I sign the
+paper. It follows, also, that the incognito visit you propose to me
+would afford you far more entertainment than it could possibly give me.
+Accept my excuses, therefore; and, since it must be so, let us part."
+
+"I am sorry, Mr. Schlemihl, that you thus obstinately persist in
+rejecting my friendly offer. Perhaps, another time, I may be more
+fortunate. Farewell! May we shortly meet again! But, a propos, allow me
+to show you that I do not undervalue my purchase, but preserve it
+carefully."
+
+So saying, he drew my shadow out of his pocket; and shaking it cleverly
+out of its folds, he stretched it out at his feet in the sun--so that
+he stood between two obedient shadows, his own and mine, which was
+compelled to follow and comply with his every movement. On again
+beholding my poor shadow after so long a separation, and seeing it
+degraded to so vile a bondage at the very time that I was so unspeakably
+in want of it, my heart was ready to burst, and I wept bitterly. The
+detested wretch stood exulting over his prey, and unblushingly renewed
+his proposal. "One stroke of your pen, and the unhappy Minna is rescued
+from the clutches of the villain Rascal, and transferred to the arms of
+the high-born Count Peter--merely a stroke of your pen!"
+
+My tears broke out with renewed violence; but I turned away from him,
+and made a sign for him to be gone.
+
+Bendel, whose deep solicitude had induced him to come in search of me,
+arrived at this very moment. The good and faithful creature, on seeing
+me weeping, and that a shadow (evidently mine) was in the power of the
+mysterious unknown, determined to rescue it by force, should that be
+necessary; and disdaining to use any finesse, he desired him directly,
+and without any disputing, to restore my property. Instead of a reply,
+the gray man turned his back on the worthy fellow, and was making off.
+But Bendel raised his buck-thorn stick; and following close upon him,
+after repeated commands, but in vain, to restore the shadow, he made him
+feel the whole force of his powerful arm. The gray man, as if accustomed
+to such treatment, held down his head, slouched his shoulders, and, with
+soft and noiseless steps, pursued his way over the heath, carrying with
+him my shadow, and also my faithful servant. For a long time I heard
+hollow sounds ringing through the waste, until at last they died away
+in the distance, and I was again left to solitude and misery.
+
+Alone on the wild heath, I disburdened my heart of an insupportable load
+by given free vent to my tears. But I saw no bounds, no relief, to my
+surpassing wretchedness; and I drank in the fresh poison which the
+mysterious stranger had poured into my wounds with a furious avidity.
+As I retraced in my mind the loved image of my Minna, and depicted her
+sweet countenance all pale and in tears, such as I had beheld her in my
+late disgrace, the bold and sarcastic visage of Rascal would ever and
+anon thrust itself between us. I hid my face, and fled rapidly over the
+plains; but the horrible vision unrelentingly pursued me, till at last
+I sank breathless on the ground, and bedewed it with a fresh torrent of
+tears--and all this for a shadow!--a shadow which one stroke of the pen
+would repurchase. I pondered on the singular proposal, and on my
+hesitation to comply with it. My mind was confused--I had lost the power
+of judging or comprehending. The day was waning apace. I satisfied the
+cravings of hunger with a few wild fruits, and quenched my thirst at a
+neighboring stream. Night came on; I threw myself down under a tree, and
+was awoke by the damp morning air from an uneasy sleep, in which I had
+fancied myself struggling in the agonies of death. Bendel had certainly
+lost all trace of me, and I was glad of it. I did not wish to return
+among my fellow-creatures--I shunned them as the hunted deer flies
+before its pursuers. Thus I passed three melancholy days.
+
+I found myself on the morning of the fourth on a sandy plain, basking
+in the rays of the sun, and sitting on a fragment of rock; for it was
+sweet to enjoy the genial warmth of which I had so long been deprived.
+Despair still preyed on my heart. Suddenly a slight sound startled me;
+I looked round, prepared to fly, but saw no one. On the sunlit sand
+before me flitted the shadow of a man not unlike my own; and wandering
+about alone, it seemed to have lost its master. This sight powerfully
+excited me. "Shadow!" thought I, "art thou in search of thy master? in
+me thou shall find him." And I sprang forward to seize it, fancying that
+could I succeed in treading so exactly in its traces as to step in its
+footmarks, it would attach itself to me, and in time become accustomed
+to me, and follow all my movements.
+
+The shadow, as I moved, took to flight, and I commenced a hot chase
+after the airy fugitive, solely excited by the hope of being delivered
+from my present dreadful situation; the bare idea inspired me with fresh
+strength and vigor.
+
+The shadow now fled towards a distant wood, among whose shades I must
+necessarily have lost it. Seeing this, my heart beat wild with fright,
+my ardor increased and lent wings to my speed. I was evidently gaining
+on the shadow--I came nearer and nearer--I was within reach of it, when
+it suddenly stopped and turned towards me. Like a lion darting on its
+prey, I made a powerful spring and fell unexpectedly upon a hard
+substance. Then followed, from an invisible hand, the most terrible
+blows in the ribs that anyone ever received. The effect of my terror
+made me endeavor convulsively to strike and grasp at the unseen object
+before me. The rapidity of my motions brought me to the ground, where
+I lay stretched out with a man under me, whom I held tight, and who now
+became visible.
+
+The whole affair was now explained. The man had undoubtedly possessed
+the bird's nest which communicates its charm of invisibility to its
+possessor, though not equally so to his shadow; and this nest he had now
+thrown away. I looked all round, and soon discovered the shadow of this
+invisible nest. I sprang towards it, and was fortunate enough to seize
+the precious booty, and immediately became invisible and shadowless.
+
+The moment the man regained his feet he looked all round over the wide
+sunny plain to discover his fortunate vanquisher, but could see neither
+him nor his shadow, the latter seeming particularly to be the object of
+his search: for previous to our encounter he had not had leisure to
+observe that I was shadowless, and he could not be aware of it. Becoming
+convinced that all traces of me were lost, he began to tear his hair,
+and give himself up to all the frenzy of despair. In the meantime, this
+newly acquired treasure communicated to me both the ability and the
+desire to mix again among mankind.
+
+I was at no loss for a pretext to vindicate this unjust robbery--or,
+rather, so deadened had I become, I felt no need of a pretext; and in
+order to dissipate every idea of the kind, I hastened on, regardless of
+the unhappy man, whose fearful lamentations long resounded in my ears.
+Such, at the time, were my impressions of all the circumstances of this
+affair.
+
+I now ardently desired to return to the ranger's garden, in order to
+ascertain in person the truth of the information communicated by the
+odious unknown; but I knew not where I was, until, ascending an eminence
+to take a survey of the surrounding country, I perceived, from its
+summit, the little town and the gardens almost at my feet. My heart beat
+violently, and tears of a nature very different from those I had lately
+shed filled my eyes. I should, then, once more behold her!
+
+Anxiety now hastened my steps. Unseen, I met some peasants coming from
+the town; they were talking of me, of Rascal, and of the ranger. I would
+not stay to listen to their conversation, but proceeded on. My bosom
+thrilled with expectation as I entered the garden. At this moment I
+heard something like a hollow laugh which caused me involuntarily to
+shudder. I cast a rapid glance around, but could see no one. I passed
+on; presently I fancied I heard the sound of footsteps close to me, but
+no one was within sight. My ears must have deceived me.
+
+It was early; no one was in Count Peter's bower--the gardens were
+deserted. I traversed all the well-known paths, and penetrated even to
+the dwelling-house itself. The same rustling sound became now more and
+more audible. With anguished feelings I sat down on a seat placed in the
+sunny space before the door, and actually felt some invisible fiend take
+a place by me, and heard him utter a sarcastic laugh. The key was turned
+in the door, which was opened. The forest- master appeared with a paper
+in his hand. Suddenly my head was, as it were, enveloped in a mist. I
+looked up, and. oh horror! the gray-coated man was at my side, peering
+in my face with a satanic grin. He had extended the mist-cap he wore
+over my head. His shadow and my own were lying together at his feet in
+perfect amity. He kept twirling in his hand the well-known parchment
+with an air of indifference; and while the ranger, absorbed in thought,
+and intent upon his paper, paced up and down the arbor, my tormentor
+confidentially leaned towards me, and whispered: "So, Mr. Schlemihl, you
+have at length accepted my invitation; and here we sit, two heads under
+one hood, as the saying is. Well, well, all in good time. But now you
+can return me my bird's nest--you have no further occasion for it; and
+I am sure you are too honorable a man to withhold it from me. No need
+of thanks, I assure you; I had infinite pleasure in lending it to you."
+He took it out of my unresisting hand, put it into his pocket, and then
+broke into so loud a laugh at my expense, that the forest-master turned
+round, startled at the sound. I was petrified. "You must acknowledge,"
+he continued, "that in our position a hood is much more convenient. It
+serves to conceal not only a man, but his shadow, or as many shadows as
+he chooses to carry. I, for instance, to-day bring two, you perceive."
+He laughed again. "Take notice, Schlemihl, that what a man refuses to
+do with a good grace in the first instance, he is always in the end
+compelled to do. I am still of opinion that you ought to redeem your
+shadow and claim your bride (for it is yet time); and as to Rascal, he
+shall dangle at a rope's end--no difficult matter, so long as we can
+find a bit. As a mark of friendship I will give you my cap into the
+bargain."
+
+The mother now came out, and the following conversation took place:
+"What is Minna doing?"--"She is weeping."--"Silly child! what good can
+that do?"--"None, certainly; but it is so soon to bestow her hand on
+another. O husband, you are too harsh to your poor child."--"No, wife;
+you view things in a wrong light. When she finds herself the wife of a
+wealthy and honorable man, her tears will soon cease; she will waken out
+of a dream, as it were, happy and grateful to Heaven and to her parents,
+as you will see."--"Heaven grant it may be so!" replied the wife. "She
+has, indeed, now considerable property; but after the noise occasioned
+by her unlucky affair with that adventurer, do you imagine that she is
+likely soon to meet with so advantageous a match as Mr. Rascal? Do you
+know the extent of Mr. Rascal's influence and wealth? Why, he has
+purchased with ready money, in this country, six millions of landed
+property, free from all encumbrances. I have had all the documents in
+my hands. It was he who outbid me everywhere when I was about to make
+a desirable purchase; and, besides, he has bills on Mr. Thomas John's
+house to the amount of three millions and a half."-- "He must have been
+a prodigious thief!"--"How foolishly you talk! he wisely saved where
+others squandered their property."--"A mere livery-servant!"--
+"Nonsense! he has at all events an unexceptionable shadow."--"True,
+but..."
+
+While this conversation was passing, the gray-coated man looked at me
+with a satirical smile.
+
+The door opened, and Minna entered, leaning on the arm of her female
+attendant, silent tears flowing down her fair but pallid face. She
+seated herself in the chair which had been placed for her under the lime
+trees, and her father took a stool by her side. He gently raised her
+hand; and as her tears flowed afresh, he addressed her in the most
+affectionate manner:
+
+"My own dear, good child--my Minna--will act reasonably, and not afflict
+her poor old father, who only wishes to make her happy. My dearest
+child, this blow has shaken you--dreadfully, I know it; but you have
+been saved, as by a miracle, from a miserable fate, my Minna. You loved
+the unworthy villain most tenderly before his treachery was discovered:
+I feel all this, Minna; and far be it from me to reproach you for it--in
+fact, I myself loved him so long as I considered him to be a person of
+rank: you now see yourself how differently it has turned out. Every dog
+has a shadow; and the idea of my child having been on the eve of uniting
+herself to a man who... but I am sure you will think no more of him. A
+suitor has just appeared for you in the person of a man who does not
+fear the sun--an honorable man--no prince indeed, but a man worth ten
+millions of golden ducats sterling--a sum nearly ten times larger than
+your fortune consists of--a man, too, who will make my dear child
+happy--nay, do not oppose me--be my own good, dutiful child--allow your
+loving father to provide for you, and to dry up these tears. Promise to
+bestow your hand on Mr. Rascal. Speak my child: will you not?"
+
+Minna could scarcely summon strength to reply that she had now no longer
+any hopes or desires on earth, and that she was entirely at her father's
+disposal. Rascal was therefore immediately sent for, and entered the
+room with his usual forwardness; but Minna in the meantime had swooned
+away.
+
+My detested companion looked at me indignantly, and whispered: "Can you
+endure this? Have you no blood in your veins?" He instantly pricked my
+finger, which bled. "Yes, positively," he exclaimed, "you have some
+blood left!--come, sign." The parchment and pen were in my hand!...
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+I submit myself to thy judgment, my dear Chamisso; I do not seek to bias
+it. I have long been a rigid censor of myself, and nourished at my heart
+the worm of remorse. This critical moment of my life is ever present to
+my soul, and I dare only cast a hesitating glance at it, with a deep
+sense of humiliation and grief. Ah, my dear friend, he who once permits
+himself thoughtlessly to deviate but one step from the right road will
+imperceptibly find himself involved in various intricate paths, all
+leading him farther and farther astray. In vain he beholds the
+guiding-stars of heaven shining before him. No choice is left him--he
+must descend the precipice, and offer himself up a sacrifice to his
+fate. After the false step which I had rashly made, and which entailed
+a curse upon me, I had, in the wantonness of passion, entangled one in
+my fate who had staked all her happiness upon me. What was left for me
+to do in a case where I had brought another into misery, but to make a
+desperate leap in the dark to save her?--the last, the only means of
+rescue presented itself. Think not so meanly of me, Chamisso, as to
+imagine that I would have shrunk from any sacrifice on my part. In such
+a case it would have been but a poor ransom. No, Chamisso; but my whole
+soul was filled with unconquerable hatred to the cringing knave and his
+crooked ways. I might be doing him injustice; but I shuddered at the
+bare idea of entering into any fresh compact with him. But here a
+circumstance took place which entirely changed the face of things....
+
+I know not whether to ascribe it to excitement of mind, exhaustion of
+physical strength (for during the last few days I had scarcely tasted
+anything), or the antipathy I felt to the society of my fiendish
+companion; but just as I was about to sign the fatal paper, I fell into
+a deep swoon, and remained for a long time as if dead. The first sounds
+which greeted my ears on recovering my consciousness were those of
+cursing and imprecation; I opened my eyes--it was dusk; my hateful
+companion was overwhelming me with reproaches. "Is not this behaving
+like an old woman? Come, rise up, and finish quickly what you were going
+to do; or perhaps you have changed your determination, and prefer to lie
+groaning there?"
+
+I raised myself with difficulty from the ground and gazed around me
+without speaking a word. It was late in the evening, and I heard strains
+of festive music proceeding from the ranger's brilliantly illuminated
+house; groups of company were lounging about the gardens; two persons
+approached, and seating themselves on the bench I had lately occupied,
+began to converse on the subject of the marriage which had taken place
+that morning between the wealthy Mr. Rascal and Minna. All was then
+over.
+
+I tore off the cap which rendered me invisible; and my companion having
+disappeared, I plunged in silence into the thickest gloom of the grove,
+rapidly passed Count Peter's bower towards the entrance-gate; but my
+tormentor still haunted me, and loaded me with reproaches. "And is this
+all the gratitude I am to expect from you, Mr. Schlemihl--you, whom I
+have been watching all the weary day, until you should recover from your
+nervous attack? What a fool's part I have been enacting! It is of no use
+flying from me, Mr. Perverse--we are inseparable--you have my gold, I
+have your shadow; this exchange deprives us both of peace. Did you ever
+hear of a man's shadow leaving him?--yours follows me until you receive
+it again into favor, and thus free me from it. Disgust and weariness
+sooner or later will compel you to do what you should have done gladly
+at first. In vain you strive with fate!"
+
+He continued unceasingly in the same tone, uttering constant sarcasms
+about the gold and the shadow, till I was completely bewildered. To fly
+from him was impossible. I had pursued my way through the empty streets
+towards my own house, which I could scarcely recognize--the windows were
+broken to pieces, no light was visible, the doors were shut, and the
+bustle of domestics had ceased. My companion burst into a loud laugh.
+"Yes, yes," said he, "you see the state of things: however, you will
+find your friend Bendel at home; he was sent back the other day so
+fatigued, that I assure you he has never left the house since. He will
+have a fine story to tell! So I wish you a very good night--may we
+shortly meet again!"
+
+I had repeatedly rung the bell; at last a light appeared; and Bendel
+inquired from within who was there. The poor fellow could scarcely
+contain himself at the sound of my voice. The door flew open, and we
+were locked in each other's arms. I found him sadly changed; he was
+looking ill and feeble. I, too, was altered; my hair had become quite
+gray. He conducted me through the desolate apartments to an inner room,
+which had escaped the general wreck. After partaking of some
+refreshments, we seated ourselves; and, with fresh lamentations, he
+began to tell me that the gray, withered old man whom he had met with
+my shadow had insensibly led him such a zig-zag race, that he had lost
+all traces of me, and at last sank down exhausted with fatigue; that,
+unable to find me, he had returned home, when, shortly after, the mob,
+at Rascal's instigation, assembled violently before the house, broke the
+windows, and by all sorts of excesses completely satiated their fury.
+Thus had they treated their benefactor. My servants had fled in all
+directions. The police had banished me from the town as a suspicious
+character, and granted me an interval of twenty-four hours to leave the
+territory. Bendel added many particulars as to the information I had
+already obtained respecting Rascal's wealth and marriage. This villain,
+it seems--who was the author of all the measures taken against
+me--became possessed of my secret nearly from the beginning, and,
+tempted by the love of money, had supplied himself with a key to my
+chest, and from that time had been laying the foundation of his present
+wealth. Bendel related all this with many tears, and wept for joy that
+I was once more safely restored to him, after all his fears and
+anxieties for me. In me, however, such a state of things only awoke
+despair.
+
+My dreadful fate now stared me in the face in all its gigantic and
+unchangeable horror. The source of tears was exhausted within me; no
+groans escaped my breast; but with cool indifference I bared my
+unprotected head to the blast. "Bendel," said I, "you know my fate; this
+heavy visitation is a punishment for my early sins: but as for thee, my
+innocent friend, I can no longer permit thee to share my destiny. I will
+depart this very night--saddle me a horse--I will set out alone. Remain
+here, Bendel--I insist upon it: there must be some chests of gold still
+left in the house--take them, they are thine. I shall be a restless and
+solitary wanderer on the face of the earth; but should better days
+arise, and fortune once more smile propitiously on me, then I will not
+forget thy steady fidelity; for in hours of deep distress thy faithful
+bosom has been the depository of my sorrows." With a bursting heart, the
+worthy Bendel prepared to obey this last command of his master; for I
+was deaf to all his arguments and blind to his tears. My horse was
+brought--I pressed my weeping friend to my bosom--threw myself into the
+saddle, and, under the friendly shades of night, quitted this sepulchre
+of my existence, indifferent which road my horse should take; for now
+on this side the grave I had neither wishes, hopes, nor fears.
+
+After a short time I was joined by a traveller on foot, who, after
+walking for a while by the side of my horse, observed that as we both
+seemed to be travelling the same road, he should beg my permission to
+lay his cloak on the horse's back behind me, to which I silently
+assented. He thanked me with easy politeness for this trifling favor,
+praised my horse, and then took occasion to extol the happiness and the
+power of the rich, and fell, I scarcely know how, into a sort of
+conversation with himself, in which I merely acted the part of listener.
+He unfolded his views of human life and of the world, and, touching on
+metaphysics, demanded an answer from that cloudy science to the question
+of questions--the answer that should solve all mysteries. He deduced one
+problem from another in a very lucid manner, and then proceeded to their
+solution.
+
+You may remember, my dear friend, that after having run through the
+school- philosophy, I became sensible of my unfitness for metaphysical
+speculations, and therefore totally abstained from engaging in them.
+Since then I have acquiesced in some things, and abandoned all hope of
+comprehending others; trusting, as you advised me, to my own plain sense
+and the voice of conscience to direct, and, if possible, maintain me in
+the right path.
+
+Now this skilful rhetorician seemed to me to expend great skill in
+rearing a firmly-constructed edifice, towering aloft on its own
+self-supported basis, but resting on, and upheld by, some internal
+principle of necessity. I regretted in it the total absence of what I
+desired to find; and thus it seemed a mere work of art, serving only by
+its elegance and exquisite finish to captivate the eye. Nevertheless,
+I listened with pleasure to this eloquently gifted man, who diverted my
+attention from my own sorrows to the speaker; and he would have secured
+my entire acquiescence if he had appealed to my heart as well as to my
+judgment.
+
+In the meantime the hours had passed away, and morning had already
+dawned imperceptibly in the horizon; looking up, I shuddered as I beheld
+in the east all those splendid hues that announce the rising sun. At
+this hour, when all natural shadows are seen in their full proportions,
+not a fence or shelter of any kind could I descry in this open country,
+and I was not alone! I cast a glance at my companion, and shuddered
+again--it was the man in the gray coat himself! He laughed at my
+surprise, and said, without giving me time to speak: "You see, according
+to the fashion of this world, mutual convenience binds us together for
+a time; there is plenty of time to think of parting. The road here along
+the mountain, which perhaps has escaped your notice, is the only one
+that you can prudently take; into the valley you dare not descend--the
+path over the mountain would but reconduct you to the town which you
+have left--my road, too, lies this way. I perceive you change color at
+the rising sun--I have no objections to let you have the loan of your
+shadow during our journey, and in return you may not be indisposed to
+tolerate my society. You have now no Bendel; but I will act for him. I
+regret that you are not over-fond of me; but that need not prevent you
+from accepting my poor services. The devil is not so black as he is
+painted. Yesterday you provoked me, I own; but now that is all
+forgotten, and you must confess I have this day succeeded in beguiling
+the wearisomeness of your journey. Come, take your shadow, and make
+trial of it."
+
+The sun had risen, and we were meeting with passengers; so I reluctantly
+consented. With a smile, he immediately let my shadow glide down to the
+ground; and I beheld it take its place by that of my horse, and gayly
+trot along with me. My feelings were anything but pleasant. I rode
+through groups of country people, who respectfully made way for the
+well-mounted stranger. Thus I proceeded, occasionally stealing a
+side-long glance with a beating heart from my horse at the shadow once
+my own, but now, alas, accepted as a loan from a stranger, or rather a
+fiend. He moved on carelessly at my side, whistling a song. He being on
+foot, and I on horseback, the temptation to hazard a silly project
+occurred to me; so, suddenly turning my bridle, I set spurs to my horse,
+and at full gallop struck into a by-path; but my shadow, on the sudden
+movement of my horse, glided away, and stood on the road quietly
+awaiting the approach of its legal owner. I was obliged to return
+abashed towards the gray man; but he very coolly finished his song, and
+with a laugh set my shadow to rights again, reminding me that it was at
+my option to have it irrevocably fixed to me, by purchasing it on just
+and equitable terms. "I hold you," said he, "by the shadow; and you seek
+in vain to get rid of me. A rich man like you requires a shadow,
+unquestionably; and you are to blame for not having seen this sooner."
+
+I now continued my journey on the same road; every convenience and even
+luxury of life was mine; I moved about in peace and freedom, for I
+possessed a shadow, though a borrowed one; and all the respect due to
+wealth was paid to me. But a deadly disease preyed on my heart. My
+extraordinary companion, who gave himself out to be the humble attendant
+of the richest individual in the world, was remarkable for his
+dexterity; in short, his singular address and promptitude admirably
+fitted him to be the very beau ideal of a rich man's lacquey. But he
+never stirred from my side, and tormented me with constant assurances
+that a day would most certainly come when, if it were only to get rid
+of him, I should gladly comply with his terms, and redeem my shadow.
+Thus he became as irksome as he was hateful to me. I really stood in awe
+of him--I had placed myself in his power. Since he had effected my
+return to the pleasures of the world, which I had resolved to shun, he
+had the perfect mastery of me. His eloquence was irresistible, and at
+times I almost thought he was in the right. A shadow is indeed necessary
+to a man of fortune; and if I chose to maintain the position in which
+he had placed me, there was only one means of doing so. But on one point
+I was immovable: since I had sacrificed my love for Minna, and thereby
+blighted the happiness of my whole life, I would not now, for all the
+shadows in the universe, be induced to sign away my soul to this
+being--I knew not how it might end.
+
+One day we were sitting by the entrance of a cavern much visited by
+strangers who ascended the mountain; the rushing noise of a subterranean
+torrent resounded from the fathomless abyss, the depths of which
+exceeded all calculation. He was, according to his favorite custom,
+employing all the powers of his lavish fancy, and all the charm of the
+most brilliant coloring, to depict to me what I might effect in the
+world by virtue of my purse, when once I had recovered my shadow. With
+my elbows resting on my knees, I kept my face concealed in my hands, and
+listened to the false fiend, my heart torn between the temptation and
+my determined opposition to it. Such indecision I could no longer
+endure, and resolved on one decisive effort.
+
+"You seem to forget," said I, "that I tolerate your presence only on
+certain conditions, and that I am to retain perfect freedom of action."
+
+"You have but to command; I depart," was all his reply.
+
+The threat was familiar to me; I was silent. He then began to fold up
+my shadow. I turned pale, but allowed him to continue. A long silence
+ensued, which he was the first to break.
+
+"You cannot endure me, Mr. Schlemihl--you hate me--I am aware of it--but
+why?-- is it, perhaps, because you attacked me on the open plain, in
+order to rob me of my invisible bird's nest? or is it because you
+thievishly endeavored to seduce away the shadow with which I had
+entrusted you--my own property--confiding implicitly in your honor? I,
+for my part, have no dislike to you. It is perfectly natural that you
+should avail yourself of every means, presented either, by cunning or
+force, to promote your own interests. That your principles also should
+be of the strictest sort, and your intentions of the most honorable
+description,--these are fancies with which I have nothing to do; I do
+not pretend to such strictness myself. Each of us is free, I to act, and
+you to think, as seems best. Did I ever seize you by the throat, to tear
+out of your body that valuable soul I so ardently wish to possess? Did
+I ever set my servant to attack you, to get back my purse, or attempt
+to run off with it from you?"
+
+I had not a word to reply.
+
+"Well, well," he exclaimed, "you detest me, and I know it; but I bear
+you no malice on that account. We must part--that is clear; also I must
+say that you begin to be very tiresome to me. Once more let me advise
+you to free yourself entirely from my troublesome presence by the
+purchase of your shadow."
+
+I held out the purse to him.
+
+"No, Mr. Schlemihl; not at that price."
+
+With a deep sigh, I said, "Be it so, then; let us part, I entreat; cross
+my path no more. There is surely room enough in the world for us both."
+
+Laughing, he replied: "I go; but just allow me to inform you how you may
+at any time recall me whenever you have a mind to see your most humble
+servant: you have only to shake your purse, the sound of the gold will
+bring me to you in an instant. In this world every one consults his own
+advantage; but you see I have thought of yours, and clearly confer upon
+you a new power. Oh this purse! it would still prove a powerful bond
+between us, had the moth begun to devour your shadow. But enough: you
+hold me by my gold, and may command your servant at any distance. You
+know that I can be very serviceable to my friends, and that the rich are
+my peculiar care--this you have observed. As to your shadow, allow me
+to say, you can only redeem it on one condition."
+
+Recollections of former days came over me; and I hastily asked him if
+he had obtained Mr. Thomas John's signature.
+
+He smiled, and said: "It was by no means necessary from so excellent a
+friend."
+
+"Where is he? for God's sake tell me; I insist upon knowing."
+
+With some hesitation, he put his hand into his pocket, and drew out the
+altered and pallid form of Mr. John by the hair of his head, whose livid
+lips uttered the awful words, "Justo judicio Dei judicatus sum; justo
+judicio Dei condemnatus sum"--"I am judged and condemned by the just
+judgment of God." I was horror- struck; and instantly throwing the
+jingling purse into the abyss, I exclaimed, "Wretch! in the name of
+Heaven, I conjure you to be gone!--away from my sight!-- never appear
+before me again!" With a dark expression on his countenance, he rose,
+and immediately vanished behind the huge rocks which surrounded the
+place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+I was now left equally without gold and without shadow; but a heavy load
+was taken from my breast, and I felt cheerful. Had not my Minna been
+irrecoverably lost to me, or even had I been perfectly free from
+self-reproach on her account, I felt that happiness might yet have been
+mine. At present I was lost in doubt as to my future course. I examined
+my pockets, and found I had a few gold-pieces still left, which I
+counted with feelings of great satisfaction. I had left my horse at the
+inn, and was ashamed to return, or at all events I must wait till the
+sun had set, which at present was high in the heavens. I laid myself
+down under a shady tree and fell into a peaceful sleep.
+
+Lovely forms floated in airy measures before me, and filled up my
+delightful dreams. Minna, with a garland of flowers entwined in her
+hair, was bending over me with a smile of good-will; also the worthy
+Bendel was crowned with flowers, and hastened to meet me with friendly
+greetings. Many other forms seemed to rise up confusedly in the
+distance: thyself among the number, Chamisso. Perfect radiance beamed
+around them, but none had a shadow; and what was more surprising, there
+was no appearance of unhappiness on this account. Nothing was to be seen
+or heard but flowers and music; and love and joy, and groves of
+never-fading palms, seemed the natives of that happy clime.
+
+In vain I tried to detain and comprehend the lovely but fleeting forms.
+I was conscious, also, of being in a dream, and was anxious that nothing
+should rouse me from it; and when I did awake, I kept my eyes closed,
+in order if possible to continue the illusion. At last I opened my eyes.
+The sun was now visible in the east; I must have slept the whole night:
+I looked upon this as a warning not to return to the inn. What I had
+left there I was content to lose, without much regret; and resigning
+myself to Providence, I decided on taking a by-road that led through the
+wooded declivity of the mountain. I never once cast a glance behind me;
+nor did it ever occur to me to return, as I might have done, to Bendel,
+whom I had left in affluence. I reflected on the new character I was now
+going to assume in the world. My present garb was very
+humble--consisting of an old black coat I formerly had worn at Berlin,
+and which by some chance was the first I put my hand on before setting
+out on this journey, a travelling-cap, and an old pair of boots. I cut
+down a knotted stick in memory of the spot, and commenced my pilgrimage.
+
+In the forest I met an aged peasant, who gave me a friendly greeting,
+and with whom I entered into conversation, requesting, as a traveller
+desirous of information, some particulars relative to the road, the
+country, and its inhabitants, the productions of the mountain, etc. He
+replied to my various inquiries with readiness and intelligence. At last
+we reached the bed of a mountain-torrent, which had laid waste a
+considerable tract of the forest; I inwardly shuddered at the idea of
+the open sunshine. I suffered the peasant to go before me. In the middle
+of the very place which I dreaded so much, he suddenly stopped, and
+turned back to give me an account of this inundation; but instantly
+perceiving that I had no shadow, he broke off abruptly, and exclaimed:
+"How is this?--you have no shadow!"
+
+"Alas, alas!" said I, "in a long and serious illness I had the
+misfortune to lose my hair, my nails, and my shadow. Look, good father;
+although my hair has grown again, it is quite white; and at my age my
+nails are still very short; and my poor shadow seems to have left me,
+never to return."
+
+"Ah!" said the old man, shaking his head; "no shadow! that was indeed
+a terrible illness, sir."
+
+But he did not resume his narrative; and at the very first cross-road
+we came to left me without uttering a syllable. Fresh tears flowed from
+my eyes, and my cheerfulness had fled. With a heavy heart I travelled
+on, avoiding all society. I plunged into the deepest shades of the
+forest; and often, to avoid a sunny tract of country, I waited for hours
+till every human being had left it, and I could pass it unobserved. In
+the evenings I took shelter in the villages. I bent my steps to a mine
+in the mountains, where I hoped to meet with work underground; for
+besides that my present situation compelled me to provide for my own
+support, I felt that incessant and laborious occupation alone could
+divert my mind from dwelling on painful subjects. A few rainy days
+assisted me materially on my journey; but it was to the no small
+detriment of my boots, the soles of which were better suited to Count
+Peter than to the poor foot- traveller. I was soon barefoot, and a new
+purchase must be made. The following morning I commenced an earnest
+search in a market-place, where a fair was being held; and I saw in one
+of the booths new and second-hand boots set out for sale. I was a long
+time selecting and bargaining; I wished much to have a new pair, but was
+frightened at the extravagant price; and so was obliged to content
+myself with a second-hand pair, still pretty good and strong, which the
+beautiful fair-haired youth who kept the booth handed over to me with
+a cheerful smile, wishing me a prosperous journey. I went on, and left
+the place immediately by the northern gate.
+
+I was so lost in my own thoughts, that I walked along scarcely knowing
+how or where. I was calculating the chances of my reaching the mine by
+the evening, and considering how I should introduce myself. I had not
+gone two hundred steps, when I perceived I was not in the right road.
+I looked round, and found myself in a wild-looking forest of ancient
+firs, where apparently the stroke of the axe had never been heard. A few
+steps more brought me amid huge rocks covered with moss and saxifragous
+plants, between which whole fields of snow and ice were extended. The
+air was intensely cold. I looked round, and the forest had disappeared
+behind me; a few steps more, and there was the stillness of death
+itself. The icy plain on which I stood stretched to an immeasurable
+distance, and a thick cloud rested upon it; the sun was of a red
+blood-color at the verge of the horizon: the cold was insupportable. I
+could not imagine what had happened to me. The benumbing frost made me
+quicken my pace. I heard a distant sound of waters; and at one step more
+I stood on the icy shore of some ocean. Innumerable droves of sea-dogs
+rushed past me and plunged into the waves. I continued my way along this
+coast, and again met with rocks, plains, birch and fir forests, and yet
+only a few minutes had elapsed. It was now intensely hot. I looked
+around, and suddenly found myself between some fertile rice-fields and
+mulberry trees; I sat down under their shade, and found by my watch that
+it was just one quarter of an hour since I had left the village market.
+I fancied it was a dream; but no, I was indeed awake, as I felt by the
+experiment I made of biting my tongue. I closed my eyes in order to
+collect my scattered thoughts. Presently I heard unintelligible words
+uttered in a nasal tone; and I beheld two Chinese, whose Asiatic
+physiognomies were not to be mistaken, even had their costume not
+betrayed their origin. They were addressing me in the language and with
+the salutations of their country. I rose and drew back a couple of
+steps. They had disappeared; the landscape was entirely changed; the
+rice-fields had given place to trees and woods. I examined some of the
+trees and plants around me, and ascertained such of them as I was
+acquainted with to be productions of the southern part of Asia. I made
+one step towards a particular tree, and again all was changed. I now
+moved on like a recruit at drill, taking slow and measured steps, gazing
+with astonished eyes at the wonderful variety of regions, plains,
+meadows, mountains, steppes, and sandy deserts, which passed in
+succession before me. I had now no doubt that I had seven-leagued boots
+on my feet.
+
+I fell on my knees in silent gratitude, shedding tears of thankfulness;
+for I now saw clearly what was to be my future condition. Shut out by
+early sins from all human society, I was offered amends for the
+privation by Nature herself, which I had ever loved. The earth was
+granted me as a rich garden; and the knowledge of her operations was to
+be the study and object of my life. This was not a mere resolution. I
+have since endeavored, with anxious and unabated industry, faithfully
+to imitate the finished and brilliant model then presented to me; and
+my vanity has received a check when led to compare the picture with the
+original. I rose immediately, and took a hasty survey of this new field,
+where I hoped afterwards to reap a rich harvest.
+
+I stood on the heights of Thibet; and the sun I had lately beheld in the
+east was now sinking in the west. I traversed Asia from east to west,
+and thence passed into Africa, which I curiously examined, at repeated
+visits, in all directions. As I gazed on the ancient pyramids and
+temples of Egypt, I descried, in the sandy deserts near Thebes of the
+hundred gates, the caves where Christian hermits dwelt of old.
+
+My determination was instantly taken, that here should be my future
+dwelling. I chose one of the most secluded, but roomy, comfortable, and
+inaccessible to the jackals.
+
+I stepped over from the pillars of Hercules to Europe; and having taken
+a survey of its northern and southern countries, I passed by the north
+of Asia, on the polar glaciers, to Greenland and America, visiting both
+parts of this continent; and the winter, which was already at its height
+in the south, drove me quickly back from Cape Horn to the north. I
+waited till daylight had risen in the east of Asia, and then, after a
+short rest, continued my pilgrimage. I followed in both the Americas the
+vast chain of the Andes, once considered the loftiest on our globe. I
+stepped carefully and slowly from one summit to another, sometimes over
+snowy heights, sometimes over flaming volcanoes, often breathless from
+fatigue. At last I reached Elias's mountain, and sprang over Behring's
+Straits into Asia; I followed the western coast in its various windings,
+carefully observing which of the neighboring isles was accessible to me.
+From the peninsula of Malacca my boots carried me to Sumatra, Java,
+Bali, and Lombok. I made many attempts--often with danger, and always
+unsuccessfully--to force my way over the numerous little islands and
+rocks with which this sea is studded, wishing to find a northwest
+passage to Borneo and other islands of the Archipelago.
+
+At last I sat down at the extreme point of Lombok, my eyes turned
+towards the southeast, lamenting that I had so soon reached the limits
+allotted to me, and bewailing my fate as a captive in his grated cell.
+Thus was I shut out from that remarkable country, New Holland, and the
+islands of the southern ocean, so essentially necessary to a knowledge
+of the earth, and which would have best assisted me in the study of the
+animal and vegetable kingdoms. And thus, at the very outset, I beheld
+all my labors condemned to be limited to mere fragments.
+
+Ah! Chamisso, what is the activity of man?
+
+Frequently in the most rigorous winters of the southern hemisphere I
+have rashly thrown myself on a fragment of drifting ice between Cape
+Horn and Van Diemen's Land, in the hope of effecting a passage to New
+Holland, reckless of the cold and the vast ocean, reckless of my fate,
+even should this savage land prove my grave.
+
+But all in vain--I never reached New Holland. Each time, when defeated
+in my attempt, I returned to Lombok; and seated at its extreme point,
+my eyes directed to the southeast, I gave way afresh to lamentations
+that my range of investigation was so limited. At last I tore myself
+from the spot, and, heartily grieved at my disappointment, returned to
+the interior of Asia. Setting out at morning dawn, I traversed it from
+east to west, and at night reached the cave in Thebes which I had
+previously selected for my dwelling-place, and had visited yesterday
+afternoon.
+
+After a short repose, as soon as daylight had visited Europe, it was my
+first care to provide myself with the articles of which I stood most in
+need. First of all a drag to act on my boots; for I had experienced the
+inconvenience of these whenever I wished to shorten my steps and examine
+surrounding objects more fully. A pair of slippers to go over the boots
+served the purpose effectually; and from that time I carried two pairs
+about me, because I frequently cast them off from my feet in my
+botanical investigations, without having time to pick them up, when
+threatened by the approach of lions, men, or hyenas. My excellent watch,
+owing to the short duration of my movements, was also on these occasions
+an admirable chronometer. I wanted, besides, a sextant, a few
+philosophical instruments, and some books. To purchase these things, I
+made several unwilling journeys to London and Paris, choosing a time
+when I could be hid by the favoring clouds. As all my ill-gotten gold
+was exhausted, I carried over from Africa some ivory, which is there so
+plentiful, in payment of my purchases-- taking care, however; to pick
+out the smallest teeth, in order not to overburden myself. I had thus
+soon provided myself with all that I wanted, and now entered on a new
+mode of life as a student--wandering over the globe--measuring the
+height of the mountains, and the temperature of the air and of the
+springs-- observing the manners and habits of animals--investigating
+plants and flowers. From the equator to the pole, and from the new world
+to the old, I was constantly engaged in repeating and comparing my
+experiments.
+
+My usual food consisted of the eggs of the African ostrich or northern
+sea- birds, with a few fruits, especially those of the palm and the
+banana of the tropics. The tobacco-plant consoled me when I was
+depressed; and the affection of my spaniel was a compensation for the
+loss of human sympathy and society. When I returned from my excursions,
+loaded with fresh treasures, to my cave in Thebes, which he guarded
+during my absence, he ever sprang joyfully forward to greet me, and made
+me feel that I was indeed not alone on the earth. An adventure soon
+occurred which brought me once more among my fellow-creatures.
+
+One day, as I was gathering lichens and algae on the northern coast,
+with the drag on my boots, a bear suddenly made his appearance, and was
+stealing towards me round the corner of a rock. After throwing away my
+slippers, I attempted to step across to an island, by means of a rock,
+projecting from the waves in the intermediate space, that served as a
+stepping-stone. I reached the rock safely with one foot, but instantly
+fell into the sea with the other, one of my slippers having
+inadvertently remained on. The cold was intense; and I escaped this
+imminent peril at the risk of my life. On coming ashore, I hastened to
+the Libyan sands to dry myself in the sun; but the heat affected my head
+so much, that, in a fit of illness, I staggered back to the north. In
+vain I sought relief by change of place--hurrying from east to west, and
+from west to east-- now in climes of the south, now in those of the
+north; sometimes I rushed into daylight, sometimes into the shades of
+night. I know not how long this lasted. A burning fever raged in my
+veins; with extreme anguish I felt my senses leaving me. Suddenly, by
+an unlucky accident, I trod upon some one's foot, whom I had hurt, and
+received a blow in return which laid me senseless.
+
+On recovering, I found myself lying comfortably in a good bed, which,
+with many other beds, stood in a spacious and handsome apartment. Some
+one was watching by me; people seemed to be walking from one bed to
+another; they came beside me, and spoke of me as NUMBER TWELVE. On the
+wall, at the foot of my bed--it was no dream, for I distinctly read
+it--on a black-marble tablet was inscribed my name, in large letters of
+gold:
+
+PETER SCHLEMIHL.
+
+Underneath were two rows of letters in smaller characters, which I was
+too feeble to connect together, and closed my eyes again.
+
+I now heard something read aloud, in which I distinctly noted the words,
+"Peter Schlemihl," but could not collect the full meaning. I saw a man
+of benevolent aspect, and a very beautiful female dressed in black,
+standing near my bed; their countenances were not unknown to me, but in
+my weak state I could not remember who they were. Some time elapsed, and
+I began to regain my strength. I was called Number Twelve, and, from my
+long beard, was supposed to be a Jew, but was not the less carefully
+nursed on that account. No one seemed to perceive that I was destitute
+of a shadow. My boots, I was assured, together with everything found on
+me when I was brought here, were in safe keeping, and would be given up
+to me on my restoration to health. This place was called the
+SCHLEMIHLIUM: the daily recitation I had heard was an exhortation to
+pray for Peter Schlemihl as the founder and benefactor of this
+institution. The benevolent-looking man whom I had seen by my bedside
+was Bendel; the beautiful lady in black was Minna. I had been enjoying
+the advantages of the Schlemihlium without being recognized; and I
+learned, further, that I was in Bendel's native town, where he had
+employed a part of my once unhallowed gold in founding an hospital in
+my name, under his superintendence, and that its unfortunate inmates
+daily pronounced blessings on me. Minna had become a widow: an unhappy
+lawsuit had deprived Rascal of his life, and Minna of the greater part
+of her property. Her parents were no more; and here she dwelt in widowed
+piety, wholly devoting herself to works of mercy.
+
+One day, as she stood by the side of Number Twelve's bed with Bendel,
+he said to her, "Noble lady, why expose yourself so frequently to this
+unhealthy atmosphere? Has fate dealt so harshly with you as to render
+you desirous of death?"
+
+"By no means, Mr. Bendel," she replied; "since I have awoke from my long
+dream, all has gone well with me. I now neither wish for death nor fear
+it, and think on the future and on the past with equal serenity. Do you
+not also feel an inward satisfaction in thus paying a pious tribute of
+gratitude and love to your old master and friend?"
+
+"Thanks be to God, I do, noble lady," said he. "Ah, how wonderfully has
+everything fallen out! How thoughtlessly have we sipped joys and sorrows
+from the full cup now drained to the last drop; and we might fancy the
+past a mere prelude to the real scene for which we now wait armed by
+experience. How different has been the reality! Yet let us not regret
+the past, but rather rejoice that we have not lived in vain. As respects
+our old friend also, I have a firm hope that it is now better with him
+than formerly."
+
+"I trust so, too," answered Minna; and so saying, she passed by me, and
+they departed.
+
+This conversation made a deep impression on me; and I hesitated whether
+I should discover myself or depart unknown. At last I decided; and,
+asking for pen and paper, wrote as follows:
+
+"Matters are indeed better with your old friend than formerly. He has
+repented; and his repentance has led to forgiveness."
+
+I now attempted to rise, for I felt myself stronger. The keys of a
+little chest near my bed were given me; and in it I found all my
+effects. I put on my clothes; fastened my botanical case round
+me--wherein, with delight, I found my northern lichens all safe--put on
+my boots, and, leaving my note on the table, left the gates, and was
+speedily far advanced on the road to Thebes.
+
+Passing along the Syrian coast, which was the same road I had taken on
+last leaving home, I beheld my poor Figaro running to meet me. The
+faithful animal, after vainly waiting at home for his master's return,
+had probably followed his traces. I stood still, and called him. He
+sprang towards me with leaps and barks, and a thousand demonstrations
+of unaffected delight. I took him in my arms--for he was unable to
+follow me--and carried him home.
+
+There I found everything exactly in the order in which I had left it;
+and returned by degrees, as my increasing strength allowed me, to my old
+occupations and usual mode of life, from which I was kept back a whole
+year by my fall into the Polar Ocean. And this, dear Chamisso, is the
+life I am still leading. My boots are not yet worn out, as I had been
+led to fear would be the case from that very learned work of
+Tieckius--De Rebus Gestis Pollicilli. Their energies remain unimpaired;
+and although mine are gradually failing me, I enjoy the consolation of
+having spent them in pursuing incessantly one object, and that not
+fruitlessly.
+
+So far as my boots would carry me, I have observed and studied our globe
+and its conformation, its mountains and temperature, the atmosphere in
+its various changes, the influences of the magnetic power; in fact, I
+have studied all living creation--and more especially the kingdom of
+plants--more profoundly than any one of our race. I have arranged all
+the facts in proper order, to the best of my ability, in different
+works. The consequences deducible from these facts, and my views
+respecting them, I have hastily recorded in some essays and
+dissertations. I have settled the geography of the interior of Africa
+and the Arctic regions, of the interior of Asia and of its eastern
+coast. My Historia Stirpium Plantarum Utriusque Orbis is an extensive
+fragment of a Flora universalis terrae and a part of my Systema Naturae.
+Besides increasing the number of our known species by more than a third,
+I have also contributed somewhat to the natural system of plants and to
+a knowledge of their geography. I am now deeply engaged on my Fauna, and
+shall take care to have my manuscripts sent to the University of Berlin
+before my decease.
+
+I have selected thee, my dear Chamisso, to be the guardian of my
+wonderful history, thinking that, when I have left this world, it may
+afford valuable instruction to the living. As for thee, Chamisso, if
+thou wouldst live amongst thy fellow-creatures, learn to value thy
+shadow more than gold; if thou wouldst only live to thyself and thy
+nobler part--in this thou needest no counsel.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stories by Foreign Authors: German
+(V.2), by Various
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