The Wonderful History of

Peter Schlemihl

I.

After a fortunate but, to me, very arduous voyage, we finally reached port. As soon as the boat set me on land, I loaded my little belongings on my back, and, pushing my way through the swarming crowd, I walked into the nearest, humblest house fronted with a hanging sign. I desired a room; the boots, taking my measure with a glance, led me to a garret. I had fresh water brought to me, together with an exact description of where I could find Mr Thomas John: “In front of the North Gate, the first country house on the right-hand side, a large, new house, of red and white marble, with many columns.” Good.

The hour was yet early; I at once untied my bundle, took out my newly-turned black coat, dressed myself neatly in my best clothes, put my letter of introduction into my pocket, and set out on my way to the man who was to promote my modest expectations.

After I had climbed up the long North Street and reached the Gate, I saw the columns shimmering through the greenery. “So here it is,” I thought. I wiped the dust from my feet with my handkerchief, straightened my cravat, and pulled the bell in God’s name. The door flew open. I had to pass an examination in the hall; but the porter announced my arrival, and I had the honour to be summoned to the park where Mr John was taking the air – with a small company. I recognised the man at once from the sheen of his portly self-satisfaction. He received me very well – as a rich man receives a poor devil, even turning towards me, without however turning away from the rest of the company – and took the proffered letter from my hand.

“So, so! from my brother; I have heard nothing from him for a long time. I trust he is in health? – Over there,” he continued to the company, without waiting for a reply, pointing with the letter to a hill, “over there I am having the new building erected.” He broke the seal without breaking the conversation, which was steered onto the subject of wealth. “Whoever is not master of at least a million,” he exclaimed, “that man is, excuse the word, a blackguard!”

“Oh, how true!” I cried, with full, overflowing feeling. That must have pleased him; he smiled at me and said: “Stay here, dear friend, I may have time later to tell you what I think of this” – here indicating the letter, which he then pocketed, before turning to the company again. He offered his arm to a young lady, other gentlemen made themselves busy around other beauties, matters arranged themselves in the proper fashion, and everyone surged towards a hill rich with blooming roses.

I crept along at the back, without inconveniencing anyone, for not a soul paid me any further attention. The company was in high spirits, fribbling and jesting, now and then speaking seriously of trifles, and often speaking triflingly of serious matters, and wit flowed with particular ease at the expense of absent friends and their affairs. I was too much a stranger there to understand much of all that, and too troubled and introspective to have a mind for such mysteries.

We had reached the rose grove. The lovely Fanny, seemingly the Queen of the Day, would insist on breaking a blossoming branch in person; she injured herself on a thorn, and crimson flowed, as if from the dark roses, over her delicate hand. This accident set the entire company in motion. Court-plaster was sought. A silent, thin, gaunt, elongated, elderly man, who had been walking with the company but whom I had not yet noticed, at once put his hand into the tight tail-pocket of his old-fashioned coat of grey taffeta, brought forth a small wallet, opened it, and proffered the desired article to the lady with a lowly bow. She received it without paying any attention to the giver and without a word of thanks; the wound was bound, and everyone walked further up the hill, intending, from its crest, to enjoy a far-reaching prospect over the green labyrinth of the park towards the immeasurable ocean.

The sight was indeed immense and splendid. A light speck appeared on the horizon, between the dark water and the blue of the sky. “A telescope here!” cried John, and even before the servants who appeared at his call could set about their task, the grey man, bowing humbly, had put his hand in his coat-pocket, pulled out a handsome Dollond[1], and presented it to Mr John. The latter, straightaway raising this to his eye, informed the company: it was the ship that had set sail on the previous day and was detained in sight of the harbour by contrary winds. The telescope passed from hand to hand, but not back to that of the owner; while I looked at the man in amazement, not understanding how the large apparatus had emerged from the tiny pocket. This enigma did not, however, seem to have struck any of the company, and they concerned themselves no more with the grey man than with me.

Refreshments were now served, the rarest fruits from every zone in the most sumptuous vessels. Mr John did the honneurs with an easy grace, and directed some words towards me for the second time: “Eat this; you did not have it at sea.” I bowed; but he did not see, he was already talking to another.

The party wished to lie down on the grass of the hill-slope, faces turned towards the unrolled landscape, but it shied away from the dampness of the earth. It would be divine here, someone opined, if one had Turkish carpets to spread out. Hardly had the wish been expressed when the man in the grey coat had his hand in his pocket and, with a modest, even humble demeanour, endeavoured to pull out a rich Turkish carpet interwoven with gold thread. The servants took receipt of it as a matter of course, and they unfolded it over the appointed location. The company seated itself on the carpet without fuss; I, on the other hand, looked in consternation at the man, the pocket, and the carpet, which measured more than twenty paces in length and ten in breadth, and I rubbed my eyes, not knowing what to make of this, especially as no one else found there to be anything strange.

I would gladly have had some information on the man, and inquired who he was, only I knew not to whom to apply; for I almost feared the Gentlemen Servants more than the Gentlemen Served. At last I took heart and walked up to a young man who seemed to me to be of less consequence than the others, and who had on occasion been standing alone. I quietly asked him to tell me who the obliging gentleman was, over there in the grey coat.

“The one who looks like an end of yarn? which has just escaped from a tailor’s needle?”

“Yes, who is standing on his own.”

“I don’t know him,” he gave by way of reply; and to avoid a longer conversation with me, as it seemed, he turned away, to speak of indifferent matters with another.

The sun now began to shine more strongly, and it became a burden to the ladies; the lovely Fanny carelessly asked the grey man, whom, as far as I knew, no one had yet addressed, the frivolous question: if he did not perhaps also have a tent about him? He responded with so deep a bow, as if an undeserved honour had been vouchsafed him, and there was his hand in his pocket, from which I saw canvas, poles, guy-ropes, ironwork – in short, everything belonging to the most splendid marquee – issuing forth. The young gentlemen helped to pitch it, and it covered the whole expanse of the carpet – and still no one found anything extraordinary in all this.

I had long felt uneasy, even horrified; and how utterly was this feeling intensified when, on the next wish spoken, I saw him pull out of that pocket three mounts – I’m telling you, three handsome, large black steeds with saddles and bridles! Just imagine, for Heaven’s sake! three saddled horses out of that same pocket from which a wallet, a telescope, an embroidered carpet twenty paces long and ten broad, a marquee of the same dimensions with all the requisite poles and iron fittings, had already come to light!

If I did not aver my having seen this with my own two eyes, you would certainly not believe it. –

However embarrassed and humble the man appeared to be, however little attention the others conferred on him, his pale appearance, from which I could not avert my eyes, curdled my blood until I could bear it no longer.

I resolved to steal away from the company; judging from the insignificant role I played in it, this appeared an easy task. I intended to return to the town and, on the following morning, try my luck with Mr. John again and – if I could summon the courage – question him about the strange grey man.

Would that Fortune had smiled on my escape!

Now I had safely crept through the rose-grove, down the hill, and I found myself on an open plain, when the fear of being met walking off the beaten path, over the grass, led me to throw a searching look around. – What a shock I received when I beheld the man in the grey coat behind, and heading straight towards me. He at once raised his hat to me and bowed lower than anyone had ever done to me before. There was no doubt that he wished to have a word, and I could not, without being ill-mannered, avoid this. I raised my hat too, returned his bow, and stood there rooted to the spot, bare-headed in the sun. I stared at him in blank fear, like a bird a snake has spellbound. He himself seemed very embarrassed; he did not lift his gaze, he bowed several times, stepped closer, and then addressed me with a soft, uncertain voice, roughly in the tone of a beggar.

“May Sir excuse my intrusiveness, if I dare to approach him while being such a stranger; I have a favour to ask. If you would be so kind as to grant – ”

“But for God’s sake, Sir!” I burst out in my fear, “what can I do for a man, who –” We both hesitated and, I think, turned red.

After a moment of silence he found his tongue again: “During the short time in which I have enjoyed the good fortune of finding myself in your vicinity, I have, Sir, on several occasions – permit me to say this to you – indeed been able to regard, with unutterable admiration, the beautiful, beautiful shadow you cast from yourself in the sun with, as it were, a certain noble contempt, without heeding it in the least: the beautiful shadow there at your feet. Forgive me this admittedly audacious presumption. I suppose you would not be averse to letting me have this shadow of yours?”

He fell silent, and my head was turning like a mill-wheel. What was I to make of the extraordinary request to buy my shadow off me? He must be mad, I thought; and in an altered tone, more appropriate to the humility of his, I replied thus:

“Well, well! my good friend, and does your own shadow not suffice, then? That’s what I call a transaction of a quite peculiar kind.”

He at once exclaimed: “I have in my pocket much that might seem to the gentleman to be not entirely without worth; for this invaluable shadow I hold the highest price too little.”

Now a cold shudder ran through me, when I was reminded of the pocket, and I did not know how I could have called him my good friend. I began to speak again, seeking to rectify matters, if possible, with boundless courtesy.

“But Sir, forgive your most obedient servant. I think I do not understand your meaning terribly well; just how could I give my shadow – ”

He interrupted me: “I request your permission to be able to lift up this noble shadow, on this very spot, and put it in my pocket, that is all; let the way in which I do this be my concern. In return, as evidence of my gratitude to the gentleman, I give him the choice of all the treasures my pocket affords: real springing-root[2], mandragora[3], penny-changers[4], thieves’ thalers[5], the tablecloth of Roland’s squire[6], a gallows-manikin[7] at any price you like; but that will certainly not be to your taste: better Fortunatus’s Wishing-Hat, newly restored to a hard-wearing state; also a Purse of Fortune, the same as his.”

“Fortunatus’s Purse,” I interrupted; and as great as my fear might be, he had captured my every sense with these words. I took a dizzy turn, and double-ducats glittered before my eyes.

“If Sir would please to inspect and make trial of this purse.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out, by two fine leather drawstrings, a moderately large, firmly-stitched purse of stout cordovan, which he then presented to me. I reached inside and drew out ten gold pieces – and another ten, then another ten, and another ten; I quickly held out my hand to him: “Done! it’s a deal, you have my shadow for the purse.” He shook my hand, knelt down in front of me without delay, and I beheld him, with admirable dexterity, gently free my shadow, from the head down to the feet, from the grass, lift it up, roll it together, fold it, and finally tuck it into his pocket. He stood up, bowed before me one more time, and then withdrew into the rose-bushes, where I thought I heard him laughing, quietly, to himself. I held the purse fast by its strings; around me the earth was bathed in sunlight, and then all was dark inside my head.

II.

I finally regained my senses and hastened to leave this place where I, it was to be hoped, had no further business. First I filled my pockets with gold, then I tied the purse-strings round my neck and hid the purse in my bosom. I walked unnoticed out of the park, reached the high road, and made my way to the town. As I approached the gate, deep in thought, I heard someone behind me crying: “Young sir! Hey! Young sir! Listen to me!”

I looked around; an old woman was shouting after me: “Sir should take care, he has lost his shadow.”

“Thanks, little mother!” I threw her a gold piece for her well-meant advice and stepped under the trees.

No sooner was I at the gate than I heard, from the sentry, “Where has Sir left his shadow?”, and directly afterwards from a couple of women: “Jesus Maria! the poor man has no shadow!” This began to vex me, and I took close care to avoid walking in the sun. But this was not possible everywhere; not, for example, in Broad Street, which I had to cross; and, disastrously for me, I had to cross at the very hour in which young boys were pouring out of school. A damned hunchbacked rascal – I can see him yet – was on to my missing shadow at once. He gave me away with lusty yells to all the literary street arabs of the suburb, who immediately began to recense me and pelt me with mud: “Proper people tend to take their shadows along when they walk in the sun.” To fend them off, I threw heaped handfuls of gold in their midst; then I sprang into a cab with the assistance of some compassionate souls.

As soon as I found myself alone in the rolling carriage, I began to weep bitterly. The suspicion had by now begun to mount inside me that, as much as gold outweighs merit and virtue on this earth, by so much more is one’s shadow valued above gold; and as I had previously sacrificed riches to my conscience, so had I now surrendered my shadow for mere gold – what was to, what on earth must, become of me!

I was still deeply perturbed, when the coach halted in front of my old inn; the thought of walking into that squalid garret alarmed me. I had my things brought down, received the shabby bundle with contempt, threw down a few pieces of gold, and gave the order to drive up to the most exclusive hotel. The building faced north; I did not have to fear the sun. I dismissed the coachman with gold, had myself shown to the best rooms, and locked myself in as soon as I had the chance.

What do you think I did now? – Oh, my dear Chamisso, confessing this, even to you, makes me blush. I pulled the luckless purse from my breast, and with a kind of rage which fanned itself inside me like a furious conflagration, I drew out gold, and gold, and gold, and ever more gold, and strewed the stone floor with it, and walked over it, and made it clink; and feasting my poor heart on its glitter, on its sound, I added ever more metal to the pile, until I sank down exhausted on the rich hoard, wallowing in it, rolling over it. So passed the day, the evening; I did not unlock my door, night found me lying on the gold, and then sleep overcame me.

Then I dreamt of you: it seemed that I was standing behind the glass doors of your little chamber, from where I could see you sitting at your desk between a skeleton and a bunch of dried plants; Haller[8], Humboldt[9] and Linné[10] lay open before you, and on your sofa lay a volume of Goethe and the ‘Zauberring’[11]; I looked at you for a long time, and at every object in your study, and then at you again; but you did not stir, you did not even draw breath,– you were dead.

I woke up. It seemed to be yet very early. My watch had stopped. I was worn out and aching, and thirsty and hungry as well; I had eaten nothing since the previous morning. Full of indignation and aversion, I pushed away the gold with which I had, a short while before, satiated my foolish heart; now, in my morose frame of mind, I did not know what to begin with it. It could not remain lying there – I tested if the purse would swallow it back down – No. None of my windows opened over the sea. I had to force myself to drag it, laboriously and with sour sweat, to a large chest in a closet, and to pack it inside. I left only a few handfuls lying. When I had finished my labour, I sank down, exhausted, into an easy chair and waited for the house-servants to start stirring. As soon as it was possible, I ordered food to be brought and summoned the hotelier.

I discussed the future arrangements of my household with this man. He recommended to me, for service to my person, a certain Bendel, whose honest and sensible physiognomy won me over at once. It was this man whose devotion accompanied and consoled me, from that time, on through the misery of life, helping me to endure my dismal lot. I spent the whole day in my rooms with servants in want of a situation, with cobblers, tailors and merchants; I bought furnishings and a particularly large amount of precious objects and jewels, just to rid myself of some of the accumulated gold; but it really did not seem that the pile could ever diminish.

Meanwhile, my mind floated in the most alarming doubts over my condition. I could not venture a step out of my door; and in the evening I had forty wax candles lit in my hall before I emerged from the darkness. I recalled with horror the terrible scene with the schoolboys. I resolved, however much courage it required, to sound public opinion once again. –

The nights were moonlit at that time. Late in the evening I threw a wide cloak around me, pressed my hat down low over my eyes, and crept, trembling like a criminal, out of the house. Not until I had reached a remote square did I step out of the shadow of the houses, under whose cover I had come this far, into the moonlight; composed to hear my fate from the mouths of passers-by.

Spare me, my dear friend, the painful recital of all that I had to endure. The women often gave indications of the deep pity with which I filled them – remarks that pierced my soul no less than the mockery of youths and the arrogant contempt of men, especially of those fat, portly ones who cast a broad shadow before them. A beautiful, graceful maiden, apparently accompanying her parents, turned her shining eyes on me, quite by chance, while they were pensively staring before their feet; she visibly started as she noticed my shadowlessness, covered her beautiful countenance with her veil, hung down her head, and walked silently past.

I could bear it no longer. Salt streams burst from my eyes, and with a rended heart I withdrew, tottering, into the darkness. I had to cling on to walls to steady my steps, and it was slowly and late that I reached my dwelling.

I spent a sleepless night. On the following day my first concern was to have the man in the grey coat sought everywhere. Perhaps I should succeed in finding him again, and what joy! if he, like I, should rue the foolish transaction. I sent for Bendel, for he seemed to possess adroitness and ability. I gave him an exact description of the man in whose possession lay a treasure, without which my life was sheer agony. I told him the time, the place where I had seen this man, described everyone who had been present, and added this indication: he was to make particular inquiries after a Dollond telescope, a Turkish carpet interwoven with gold thread, a marquee, and finally some black stallions, the history of all which was tied together, in an as yet undetermined way, with that of the mysterious man, who had seemed insignificant to everyone and whose appearance had destroyed the peace and happiness of my life.

When I had finished speaking, I fetched some gold, as great a load as I was able to bear, and added gems and jewels to increase the value. “Bendel,” I said, “this smooths many a path, and makes easy much that seemed impossible; be not sparing with it, as I am not, but go and gladden your master with the news on which all of his hopes rest.”

He went. It was late when he came sadly back. Not one of Mr. John’s servants, not one of his guests – he had spoken to all – could even vaguely recall the man in the grey coat. The new telescope was there, and no one knew where it had come from; the carpet and the marquee were still spread out and pitched on the hill, the servants extolled their master’s wealth, and none knew whence these new valuables had come to him. As for the master, he took pleasure in them, and not knowing whence he had them caused him no concern. The horses were now in the stalls of the young gentlemen who had ridden them; these praised the generosity of Mr. John, who had gifted them the steeds that day. So much was manifest from the detailed account given by Bendel, whose ready zeal and sensible conduct, even after so fruitless an outcome, merited and received my praise. I gloomily signalled to him to leave me on my own.

“I have,” he resumed, “made a report to my master about the matter that was of greatest import to him. It remains for me to deliver a message that was given me early today by a person I met before the door, as I was departing on that commission in which I have been so unfortunate. The man’s words were precisely these: ‘Tell Mr. Peter Schlemihl that he will see me here no more, as I am going over the sea; and a favourable wind is, even now, calling me to port. But after a year and a day, I shall have the honour to seek him out and propose another transaction which may be to his advantage. Convey to him my humblest respects, and assure him of my gratitude’. I asked him who he was; he simply replied that you knew him.”

“What did the man look like?” I cried, full of foreboding. And Bendel described to me the man in the grey coat, feature by feature, word for word, as he had faithfully depicted him in his previous account of the man he was inquiring after.

“Unhappy man!” I cried, wringing my hands, “it was he himself!” and the scales fell from his eyes.

“Yes, it was he, really he!” he cried out in alarm, “and like a blind man, like an idiot, I didn’t recognise him, didn’t recognise him, and I’ve betrayed my master!”

With hot tears, he broke out into the bitterest self-reproaches, and the despair in which he found himself could not but fill me with compassion. I spoke comforting words, repeatedly assured him that I entertained no doubts of his fidelity, and sent him directly to the harbour to, if possible, follow the strange man’s trail. But on that particular morning a great number of ships, which contrary winds had detained in port, had put to sea, all to different points of the compass, all bound for different coasts; and the grey man had disappeared without trace – like a shadow.

III.

What help would wings be to a man bound fast in iron fetters? He still has to despair, and all the more dreadfully. I lay, like Fafnir on his hoard, far from human conversation, starving with my gold; but I did not have a heart for it, indeed I cursed that metal for the sake of which I saw myself severed from mankind. Harbouring my dismal secret alone, I feared the lowest of my servants, whom I could not but envy at the same time; for he had a shadow, he could show himself in the sun. I moped away the lonely days and nights in my rooms, and grief tugged at my heart.

Another pined away before my eyes: my faithful Bendel ceased not to torture himself with silent reproaches for having betrayed his gracious master’s trust and for not having recognised the man he had been sent out to seek, and with whom he could not but imagine my miserable fate to be closely intertwined. But I could lay no blame on him; I recognised, in that occurrence, the stranger’s fabulous nature.

To leave nothing untried, I once sent Bendel with a valuable diamond ring to the most famous artist in town, whom I invited to pay me a visit. He came; I ordered my servants away, locked the door, sat down with the man, and after I had praised his art I came with heavy heart to the point, having first made him swear the strictest secrecy.

“Sir,” I began, “could you by any chance paint, for a man who has lost his shadow in the most unfortunate way in the world, a false shadow?”

“You mean a human shadow?”

“That is certainly what I mean.”

“But,” he asked further, “through what clumsiness, through what carelessness, could he have lost his own shadow?”

“How it came about,” I replied, “is neither here nor there; but this much – ” I lied brazenly to him:- “In Russia, where he was on a journey last winter, an extraordinarily cold snap froze his shadow so tightly to the ground that he was unable to work it loose.”

“The false sheet shadow I could paint for him,” the artist replied, “would only be such a one as he would lose again with the slightest motion – especially so for a man who kept such a weak hold on his own innate shadow as can be ascertained from your tale; let he who has no shadow not walk in the sun, that is the safest and most sensible course.” Then he stood up and took his leave, while fixing me with a piercing look that my eyes could not bear. I sank back into my armchair and hid my face in my hands.

Thus did Bendel find me on entering. He saw his master’s pain and intended to withdraw quietly and deferentially. – I looked up – I succumbed to the weight of my sorrow; I had to tell him. “Bendel,” I called to him, “Bendel! you, the only man who sees and honours my tribulations, wanting not to inquire into them, but to quietly and devotedly sympathise – come to me, Bendel, and be neighbour to my heart. I have not closed my wealth of gold to you; I shall not close to you my wealth of grief. – Bendel, don’t forsake me. Bendel, you see me rich, generous, gracious; you imagine the world should extol me, and you see me shun the world and lock myself away from it. Bendel, it has passed judgement, the world, and disowned me; and you too will perhaps turn from me, when you learn my dreadful secret: Bendel, I am rich, generous, gracious, but – oh God! – I have no shadow!” –

“No shadow?” the good youth cried out in alarm, and bright tears streamed from his eyes. – “Woe is me for being born to serve a shadowless master!” He fell silent, and I held my face in my hands. –

“Bendel,” I said at last, with trembling voice, “now you have my confidence; now you can betray it. Go forth and bear witness against me.”

He seemed to be in a violent struggle with himself; in the end he threw himself down before me and grasped my hand, which he bathed with his tears. “No,” he cried, “let the world think what it may, I can and will not abandon my gracious master for the sake of a shadow, I shall do the right thing, not the wise one, I shall stay by you, lend you my shadow, help you where I can, and weep with you where I cannot.” I flung my arms around his neck, amazed at such an unfamiliar cast of mind; for I was convinced that he was not doing this for the sake of gold.

From that moment on, my fate and my way of life changed somewhat. Words cannot describe the precautionary care with which Bendel was able to conceal my affliction. He was ever before and with me, foreseeing everything, making provision, and, where danger suddenly threatened, swiftly covering me with his own shadow; for he was taller and stouter than I. So I ventured out among mankind again and began to play a role in the world. Admittedly, I had to assume many ostensible idiosyncrasies and caprices. But these suit the rich man admirably, and as long as the truth remained hidden, I enjoyed all the honour and respect that gold may command. I awaited with greater peace of mind the visit that the mysterious stranger had promised for a year and a day.

I felt all too keenly that I must not stay long in a place where I had been seen without a shadow, and where I could easily be betrayed; I also still thought – perhaps I was alone in so doing – of the figure I had cut before Mr. John, and the memory weighed heavily on my mind; accordingly I wanted to merely make a trial run here, in order to be able to appear with greater ease and confidence elsewhere – yet something occurred which held me there for a time by my vanity; that is the part of a man where the anchor grips most certain ground.

It was the beautiful Fanny, whom I met once again on neutral territory, who gifted me – without recalling ever having seen me – some attention; for now I had intellect and wit. When I spoke, people listened; I myself did not know how I had attained the art of conversing so easily and with such mastery. The impression I saw I had made on the belle made of me just what she desired – a fool – and I followed her with a thousand exertions through shadows and twilight, wherever I could. I was simply vain about making her vain about having me, and with the best will in the world, I was unable to force the thrill out of my head and into my heart.

But why repeat this most commonplace of stories to you in all its length and breadth? – You yourself have told me it often enough of other people of rank. In addition to the old, well-known play, in which I good-naturedly accepted a hackneyed role, there came a specially-composed catastrophe, not expected by me, or her, or anyone.

When, one fine evening, I had assembled a company in a garden, as was my wont, I went for a stroll arm-in-arm with my lady at some distance from the other guests, endeavouring to turn some fine-sounding phrases for her ears. She looked down demurely before her and gently returned the pressure of my hand, when, all of a sudden, the moon emerged from clouds at our back – and she saw only her own shadow falling down before us. She started, and looked at me in consternation, then back at the earth, desiring my shadow with her eyes; and all that was passing through her mind was reflected so strangely in the expressions of her face, that I could have burst out into loud laughter, had a chill not coursed up my spine.

I let her fall from my arms in a faint, shot like an arrow through the horrified guests, reached the gate, threw myself into the first carriage I found waiting there, and travelled back to the city, where I had left the cautious Bendel – disastrously so, on this occasion. He gave a start when he saw me; one word discovered everything. Post-horses were sent for on the spot. I took only one of my servants with me, a cunning rogue by the name of Rascal, whose adroitness had made him necessary to me and who could have suspected nothing of the day’s occurrence. I covered thirty miles that same night. Bendel stayed behind to dissolve my household, to settle my accounts, and then to bring along what was most necessary. When he caught up on the following day, I threw myself into his arms and swore to him, not to commit no further acts of folly, but just to be more prudent in future. We continued our journey over mountains, and over the border, without a break; and only on the far slope, separated by the lofty bulwark from that fateful land, did I allow myself to be moved to rest away, in a nearby, little-frequented spa, the toils I had endured.

IV.

In my story I shall now have to rush through a time on which I would – how dearly – like to linger, if I were capable of evoking its living spirit in my memory. But the colour that animated it, and which alone can revive it, has faded inside me; and when I want to rediscover in my breast all that it raised so powerfully at that time – the pains, the happiness, the docile delusion –, then I beat in vain against a rock that affords a living spring no longer, and God has receded from me. How differently it now looks at me, this bygone time!

There, in the spa, I was to tragediate a hero’s role; poorly rehearsed, and a greenhorn on the stage, I gawp myself out of the drama and into a pair of blue eyes. The parents, disappointed with the play, work with might and main to quickly clinch the deal, and ridicule winds up the low farce. And that is all, all!

This seems silly and fatuous to me; but it is also dreadful that what, at that time, swelled my breast with such fullness and greatness can now seem so. Mina, as I wept when I lost you, so do I weep now at having lost you inside me. Am I then become so old? – Oh sorry reason! Just a pulse-beat of that time, a moment more of that delusion – but no! I float lonely on the high, desolate sea of your bitter tide, long since having lost the spark and fizz of the final goblet of ’11 Champagne![12]

I had sent Bendel ahead with some sacks of gold to arrange an appropriate dwelling. He had scattered a great deal of money there and expressed himself in rather vague terms concerning the noble stranger he served – for I did not wish to be named. This brought the good people to strange thoughts. As soon as my house was ready to receive me, Bendel returned to convey me thither. We set out on our journey.

Roughly an hour before the place, on a sunny plain, our way was barred by a crowd, arrayed in festive adornment. The coach halted. Music could be heard, bells were pealed, cannons fired, and a loud vivat rang through the air – before the carriage door there appeared a chorus of maidens, garbed in white, of exceptional beauty; but who were eclipsed by one of their number like the stars of night by the sun. She stepped out from the midst of her companions; the tall, delicate form knelt down before me, shyly blushing, and held out to me a garland woven of laurel, olive-branches and roses, on a silk cushion, speaking all the while some words about majesty, reverence and love that I did not understand; yet her enchanting silver tones enraptured my ear and my heart – I felt as if this heavenly vision had flowed past me once before. The chorus joined in, and sang the praise of a good King and the happiness of his subjects.

And this scene, my dear friend, in the open sunlight! She remained kneeling two paces before me, and I, without a shadow, could not jump the chasm, could not fall down on my knees before the angelic being. Oh, what would I not have given at that moment for a shadow! I had to conceal my shame, my fear, my despair, in the dark depths of the carriage. Eventually Bendel took thought for me and leapt out of the other side of the carriage; I called him back and gave him, from the casket I had at hand, a rich diamond coronet, which had been meant to adorn the lovely Fanny. He stepped forward and spoke on behalf of his master, who neither could nor would accept such attestations of honour; a mistake must be at work here; nevertheless, the worthy townspeople were to be thanked for their kind intention. In the meantime, he took the proffered garland from its place and laid the circlet of diamonds in its stead; then he respectfully offered the beautiful maiden his hand to arise and, with a wave, dismissed the clergy, the town-council, and all the deputations. No one was admitted from this point on. He ordered the crowd to part and make way for the horses, then vaulted back into the carriage; and off we went at full gallop, through arches built of foliage and flowers, towards the little town.

The cannons were still being fired with gay abandon. The coach halted in front of my house; I nimbly sprang through the doors, parting the crowd that had been called together by the desire to see me. The mob shouted vivat under my window, and I showered them with double-ducats. That evening the whole town was illuminated.

And I still did not know what all this was meant to signify, or who they took me to be. I sent Rascal out to reconnoitre. He was told how the definite information had been received that the good King of Prussia was travelling through the land under the name of some count; how my aide-de-camp had been recognised and had given himself and me away; finally, how great the people’s joy was at the certainty of having me in their town. They did, admittedly, realise how great had been their error in lifting the veil so intrusively, when I clearly wished to observe the strictest incognito. But I had raged so gracefully, so graciously – I would surely have to pardon their well-meaning hearts.

This business struck my scoundrel as so droll that he did his utmost, with reproachful phrases, to temporarily confirm the good people in their belief. He delivered a very comical report, and when he saw how this amused me, he thought to entertain me through the performance of his knaveries. – Must I own the truth? You see, I was flattered to be taken, no matter how, for the revered Head of State.

I ordered a banquet to be prepared for the evening of the morrow, under the trees that shaded the ground in front of my house, and I had the whole town invited. The mysterious power of my purse, Bendel’s exertions, and Rascal’s ready inventiveness, succeeded in conquering time itself. It is really astonishing, how everything fell into such lavish and beautiful order in just a few hours – the splendour and the abundance, which were there on display! Moreover, the ingenious lighting was deployed so wisely that I felt perfectly at ease. Nothing had been left to my memory; I had to praise my servants.

The evening grew dark. The guests arrived and were introduced to me. No mention was made of His Majesty; I was called, in deep reverence and humility: Count. What could I do? I let the name pass and became, from that hour on, Count Peter. In the midst of the festive throng my soul desired only one. She appeared late, she who was and wore the crown. Demurely following her parents, she did not seem to know that she was the most beautiful of all. The First Commissioner of Forests, his wife, and daughter, were introduced to me. I knew how to make many pleasant and obliging remarks to the parents; before the daughter, I stood like a tongue-lashed schoolboy, unable to babble out a word. At length I requested her, stammering, to dignify this banquet, by holding in it that office whose symbol she adorned. She shyly asked, with a touching look, to be spared; but more embarrassed than she herself, I brought her, as her premier subject, my homage with the deepest reverence; and the Count’s sign became a precept for all the guests, which every one of them joyfully endeavoured to follow. Majesty, innocence and grace, in union with beauty, presided over a joyful festivity. Mina’s happy parents believed their child exalted in honour of themselves; I myself was in a rapture beyond words. I had all the jewels that remained from those I had bought to be rid of my burdensome gold – all the pearls, all the gems – placed in two covered dishes and, in the name of the Queen, passed round at table to her playmates and all the ladies; and all this while, gold was thrown over the raised barriers and among the cheering mob.

On the following morning, Bendel disclosed to me, in confidence, that the suspicion he had long harboured against Rascal’s honesty was now become certainty: on the previous day, he had misappropriated sacks full of gold. “Let us,” I replied, “not begrudge the poor knave this trifling haul; I willingly give out to all, why not to him as well? Yesterday he, yesterday all the new servants you have given me, served me honourably, they joyfully helped me to create a joyful feast.”

The subject was not brought up again. Rascal remained the first of my servants, whereas Bendel was my friend and confidant. The latter had grown accustomed to regard my wealth as inexhaustible, and he did not seek its source; he rather helped me, understanding my mind, devise constant occasions of display and expenditure. Of that stranger, the pale creeper, he knew only this: that through him alone could I be delivered from the curse that weighed me down, and that I feared the man on whom reposed my solitary hope. Incidentally, I was convinced that he could find me anywhere, I him nowhere; therefore I had, awaiting the promised day, put an end to all futile searches.

The magnificence of my banquet, and my demeanour on the occasion, initially maintained the credulous townspeople in their preconceived belief. It certainly came to light in no time at all, through the newspapers, that the King of Prussia’s fabulous journey had been nothing more than an unfounded rumour; but a King I was, and a King I absolutely had to remain, and one of the richest and most regal there could ever be. It was just that nobody really knew which one. The world has never had cause to complain of a lack of monarchs, at least in our days; the good people, who had never yet clapped eyes on a King, guessed, with equal success, now at this one, now at that one – and Count Peter remained the same man.

There once appeared, among the visitors to the spa, a merchant who had become a bankrupt in order to enrich himself, who enjoyed universal respect, and who cast a wide, if somewhat pale, shadow. He intended to make a sumptuous show here of the fortune he had accumulated, and he even entered upon the notion of competing with me. I had recourse to my purse, and in next to no time I had driven him to the point where, to save his reputation, he had to declare himself bankrupt once again, then make his way over the mountains. Thus did I shake him off. – I made many good-for-nothings and idlers in this region!

For all the regal splendour and magnificence with which I subjugated everyone, I led a very simple and secluded life in my house. I had made it a rule to observe the greatest caution; none but Bendel was permitted, on any pretence, to enter the room I occupied. As long as the sun shone, I stayed locked inside with him, and the word went out: the Count has business in his cabinet. The couriers I frequently sent out and received, for each and any trifle, were connected with this business.

I accepted company only in the evening under my trees, or in my hall, which was skilfully and brilliantly illuminated after Bendel’s instructions. When I went out, Bendel having to constantly guard me Argus-eyed, then it was only to the Forestry Commissioner’s garden and for the sake of one; for my love was the innermost spirit of my life.

Oh, my good Chamisso, I will hope you have not yet forgotten what love is! I shall leave much here for you to supplement. Mina was truly a loveable, good, and pious maiden. I had bound her entire imagination to me; in her humility, she did not know how she was worthy of my having eyes only for her, but she requited love for love with the full youthful fervour of an innocent heart. She loved like a woman; sacrificing her whole being, forgetful of herself, devotedly thinking only of he who was her life, careless though she should perish; in a word, she truly loved. –

And I – oh, what terrible hours – terrible! and yet worthy of my wishing their return – I often cried my eyes out on Bendel’s breast when, after the first, unconscious rapture, I came to my senses and had a sharp look at myself: I, who, without a shadow, corrupting this angel with pernicious egoism, had lied and stolen my way to possession of her pure soul! Then I decided to betray my secret to her in person; then I swore solemn oaths to tear myself away from her, to flee from her; then I burst into another volley of tears, and made arrangements with Bendel to visit her in the Forester’s garden that evening.

At other times I lied to myself, alleging great expectations from the grey stranger’s imminent visit, and I wept once more when my efforts to believe them proved vain. I had calculated the day on which I expected to meet the dreadful figure again; for he had said, in a year and a day, and I believed his word.

The parents were good, respectable old people, who loved their only child very much; the whole affair had taken them by surprise, and they did not know what to do. Previously, they had not dreamed that Count Peter could even bestow a thought on their child; now he actually loved her, and was loved in return. –The mother was certainly vain enough to consider the possibility of a connection, and to work towards this end; the old man’s sound human understanding gave no room to such extravagant illusions. Both were convinced of the purity of my love – they could do nothing but pray for their child.

My hand finds a letter from Mina, a remnant of that time. – Yes, those are her strokes! I shall transcribe it for you.

“I’m a weak, foolish girl, I could delude myself that my lover, because I love him deeply, deeply, would not want to hurt a poor girl. –Ah, You are so good, so inexpressibly good; but do not misinterpret my words. You are not to sacrifice anything for me, or to want to sacrifice anything for me; oh God! I could hate myself if You did that. No – You have made me terribly happy, You have taught me how to love. Go hence! – For my fate knows that Count Peter does not belong to me, he belongs to the world; I’ll be proud when I hear: he has been this, and he was that, and he has accomplished this; they have worshipped him here, and they have idolised him there. You see, when I think this, I am angry with You, that You could forget Your high destiny at the side of a simple child. – Go hence, or the thought will yet make me unhappy, I who am, ah! so happy, so blissfully happy through You. Have I not also woven an olive-branch and rosebud into Your life, as into the garland I was to present You with? I have You in my heart, beloved; have no fear about going from me – I’ll die, ah! so blissful, so inexpressibly blissful because of You.” –

You can imagine how these words pierced my heart. I explained to her that I was not what people seemed to take me to be; I was only a rich, but endlessly miserable, man. There lay a curse on me, which should be the solitary secret between the two of us, for I was not yet without hope that it would be lifted. This was the poison of my days: the thought that I might sweep her off her feet into the abyss with me, she who was the only light, the only joy, the only heart of my life. Then she wept again because I was unhappy. Oh, she was so loving, so good! To buy me just a tear, she would – with what supreme happiness – have sacrificed her body and soul.

Meanwhile she was far from interpreting my words correctly; she now suspected me to be some Prince whom a heavy sentence had struck – some high, proscribed head of state – and her imagination assiduously painted her loved one in heroic scenes.

One day I said to her: “Mina, the last day of next month can change and decide my fate – if this does not happen, then I must die, for I will not make you unhappy.” She buried her face, weeping, in my breast.

“If your fate changes, let me but know that you are happy, I have no claim to you. – If you are miserable, bind me to your misery, so I may help you to bear it.”

“Girl, girl, take them back, these rash, these foolish words that escaped from your lips – and do you know it, this misery, do you know it, this curse? Do you know who your beloved - - what he - ? – Don’t you see how I shudder convulsively, that I have a secret from you?”

She fell sobbing at my feet and, swearing vows, repeated her petition.

I declared myself to the Forestry Co