Tales of the German Imagination from the Brothers Grimm to Ingeborg Bachmann (Penguin Classics)

by Unknown

  IV

  To cut a long story short, I will, alas, be obliged to pass quickly over a period in the reminiscence of which I would – only too gladly – like to linger, could I but thereby conjure up the ghost of living memory. But the true colours that once gave life to that glorious interlude, colours whose hue alone can resurrect it – those tints have been washed away by time. To seek them out again in the faded palette of my emotions, to dredge up the pain and joy and gentle madness that once made my chest heave – that would be like foolishly striking a boulder in search of a stream that has long since dried up, a parched wellspring abandoned by God. How changed is the bygone time that peers back at me now! It is like a play in which I ought to have tackled an heroic role; yet, being ill prepared, a neophyte on stage, I let myself be distracted from my performance, smitten hopelessly by a pair of blue eyes in the crowd. Her parents, taken in by my charade, pull out all the stops, offer me everything just to make the match and clinch the deal as quickly as possible. And this common farce ends in scorn for the unwitting clown. And that is all, all there is to tell! My words sound fatuous and insipid, and how terrible that the very past that once stirred such profound feeling in my breast could be reduced to this – O Mina! Just as I wept when I lost you back then, I weep now, having lost the shimmer of your memory in me. Has age caught up with me? Oh, wretched reason! Grant me but one more flutter of that fleeting bliss, a moment of sweet madness – but no! I float alone on the bitter, barren foam of time and tide, and have long since downed the last drop of champagne from my goblet!

  I had sent Bendel on ahead with several sacks of gold to rent and furnish lodgings for me according to my needs. The good man had scattered much money about, and spoken in the vaguest terms of the noble stranger he served, for I did not wish to be known by name. This heavy veil of mystery gave the good townspeople some curious ideas. As soon as my house was ready for me to move in, Bendel came to fetch me, to accompany me personally to my new home. The two of us set out together.

  About an hour’s ride from our destination, on a wide, sunny plain, the road was blocked by a crowd decked out in festive finery. The carriage halted. Music, church bells, cannon fire could be heard in the distance, and a loud hurrah rang out in the crowd. A chorus of young girls of exceptional beauty, all dressed in white, advanced towards us, one of whom outshone the others, who faded in her wake like the stars in the night sky in the wake of the rising sun. She stepped forth from among her sisters, and this lofty, delicate apparition knelt down before me, her face flushed crimson. She held out to me on a silken cushion a wreath of braided laurel, olive branch and roses, and proceeded to declaim a few choice words about majesty, reverence and love, words I did not understand, but whose enchanting silvery timbre bewitched my ear and my heart – and it seemed to me as if this heavenly apparition had once before wafted past me. The virginal chorus broke out in an ode to a good king and the happiness of his subjects.

  And all this big to-do, dear friend, in broad daylight! There she was, kneeling two steps in front of me, and I, for lack of a shadow, could not bridge the gap between us, could not fall to my knees before that angel. Oh, what wouldn’t I have given at that moment for a shadow! I had to keep my shame, my fear and my desperation buried deep in the darkness of my carriage. Bendel finally took the initiative, acting on my behalf; he leapt out of his side of the carriage, but I called him back in the nick of time and, reaching into my jewel box, fished out the first object my fingers happened to touch, a diamond tiara that I had intended to give the lovely Fanny, and handed it to him. He stepped forward and spoke in the name of his master, who neither sought nor desired such reverential treatment – said Bendel: ‘There must be some mistake, but let the good townspeople nevertheless be thanked for their kindness.’ Thereupon he took up the proffered wreath from its silken pillow and laid the diamond tiara in its place; then he graciously extended a hand to the young girl to rise, and with another courtly sweep of the hand dispensed with the local curate, magistrate and other prominent officials. No one else was permitted to approach me.

  Bendel motioned for the throng to part and make room for the horses, swung himself back up into the carriage, and off we went at a gallop, passing under a canopy of wreaths and flowers into the city, while the cannon kept firing in our honour. The carriage stopped in front of my new house; I leapt nimbly past the crowd of onlookers whose curiosity had brought them to my doorstep, and bounded through the door. The crowd hailed me with hurrahs outside my windows and I let gold ducats rain down on them. That evening, of course, the whole town was lit up in celebration.

  And I still had no idea what all the to-do was about and who they thought I was. I sent Rascal out to make enquiry. He heard, as he later informed me, that the King of Prussia was travelling through these parts under the assumed alias of a count; that my servant Bendel had supposedly been recognized, revealing his and my identities; and finally, that the townspeople were jubilant to have me settle in their midst. Fathoming at last that I had clearly wished to maintain a strict incognito, they regretted having so impetuously penetrated my disguise. Yet His Highness had responded with such mercy and grace, surely he would forgive the good hearts of his subjects.

  My rogue of a servant found the whole thing so amusing that he did his best, by words of warning dropped for effect, to confirm the people’s suspicion. He delivered a hilarious report, and since his delivery made me laugh, he took full advantage of the situation to win me over with his practised guile. Must I admit it? It flattered me to have my lowly person mistaken for the lofty countenance of the king.

  For the following evening, I ordered a great feast to be prepared in the shade of the trees in front of my house, to which I invited the entire city. Thanks to the mysterious potential of my purse, Bendel’s efforts and Rascal’s quick-witted inventiveness, we succeeded in beating the clock. It is astonishing what lavish splendour and beauty we were able to fabricate in a few hours. The extravagance and the excess conjured up! Even the ingenious lighting was so shrewdly distributed that I could move about with ease. My servants had thought of everything, and I had only to dispense well-earned praise.

  Evening set in. The guests appeared, and were presented to me. The matter of my purported majesty was never mentioned again, but I was addressed with deep reverence and humility as Sir Count. What was I to do? I let the title stick, and became from that moment Count Peter. Yet amid all that festive fanfare, my soul yearned for her. She came late, she who was and who wore the crown. She followed her parents demurely, and did not seem to know that she was the reigning beauty. The forest warden and his wife and daughter were presented to me. I managed to say many fine and fitting things to the old gentleman, yet before his daughter I stood in awe like a tongue-tied schoolboy and couldn’t bring a single word to my lips. Finally, stammering, I bid her honour this occasion and asked her to carry out the duties commensurate with the crown she wore. With a stirring look and blushing with shame, she asked me to excuse her; but, still more ashamed before her than she was before me, I offered my respects as her most humble servant; and a wink from the Count served as a command to all present to commence the revelries, a command that my obedient subjects were quick and eager to carry out. Majesty, innocence and grace aligned with beauty decreed a joyous celebration. Mina’s jubilant parents felt honoured by the honour done their child; I myself was in indescribable ecstasy. I ordered all the jewels I had left, all the pearls, all the diamonds, all the precious stones I had purchased just to get rid of some of my gold, to be set out in two covered bowls and passed around in the name of the queen of the day to all her ladies-in-waiting; and meanwhile, handfuls of gold were tossed throughout the evening, over the barriers that had been erected, to the cheering masses.

  Next morning Bendel took me aside and revealed to me in confidence his long-held doubt concerning Rascal’s reliability, a doubt recently confirmed by the certainty of his guilt. Just yesterday he had discovered whole sacks of gold in Rascal’s poss
ession. ‘Let us not begrudge the poor rogue his little stash of booty,’ I replied; ‘my generosity extends to everyone else, why not to him too? Yesterday he served me well, as did all the new servants you found for me; they joyously helped me celebrate a joyous occasion.’

  We spoke no more of this matter. Rascal remained my major-domo, but Bendel was my friend and confidant. Bendel had grown accustomed to regarding my wealth as limitless, and he did not seek out its source; rather, he helped me, in accordance with my own inclinations, to think up a multitude of delightful ways to spend it. But of that mysterious figure, the man in grey, that pale-faced weasel who was the bane of my existence, he knew only this much: through him alone could I be released from the curse that weighed so heavily upon me; in him alone, whom I most feared, did my one hope lie. I should add that I was quite convinced that he, for his part, could find me anywhere, but that I could find him nowhere; and therefore, patiently awaiting the promised day, I forswore any further attempts to track him down.

  My comportment and the lavish splendour of the party I had given at first confirmed the unsuspecting local citizenry in their foregone conviction as to my true identity. Soon thereafter, newspapers reported that the entire business concerning the fabulous journey of the King of Prussia through those parts was mere unsubstantiated rumour. Yet, once anointed monarch in the popular imagination, a monarch I was bound to remain, and, moreover, one of the richest and most regal monarchs the world had ever known – though no one could say for certain over what realm I ruled. Still, the world has never had grounds to complain of a lack of kings, least of all in these times; the good people, who had never actually seen a king with their own eyes, traced my provenance now to this place, now to that – Count Peter, in any case, remained Count Peter. Once there appeared among the transient guests of our little spa town a merchant who had declared himself bankrupt only to recoup his fortune, a man who enjoyed public esteem and cast a broad, albeit somewhat pallid, shadow. He wished to make a public display of the wealth he had amassed, and he even had the ill-advised notion of challenging me to measure my fortune against his. I had only to reach into my trusty purse; soon I had the poor braggart so badly beaten that he had once again to declare bankruptcy just to save face, after which he fled in disgrace across the mountains. So I was rid of him. I admit that I attracted the attention of many ne’er-do-wells and idlers in the region.

  With all the splendour and extravagance of my festivities, I maintained a very simple household regime and lived apart from the world. I made the most fastidious caution my rule; under no circumstances was anyone but Bendel allowed to enter my private rooms. As long as the sun shone in the sky, I remained locked away with Bendel as my sole companion; word had it that the Count was busy at his desk. In accordance with these arrangements, I had a steady stream of couriers I charged with any trifle continuously coming and going. I received guests only in the evening under my trees or in my great hall, which was brightly illuminated according to Bendel’s instructions. And when I went out, with Bendel watching over me like a hawk, my destination was always the forest warden’s garden, to see her; for love alone plucked at my heartstrings and gave me the will to live.

  O my dear old friend Chamisso, I hope that you have not forgotten what love is! I will let you fill in the details here as you see fit. Mina was a truly lovable, kind and devoted child. I had drawn her heart and soul to mine; modest as she was, she had no idea how she had earned the honour of my attentions, and with all the youthful energy of an innocent heart, she returned love for love. She loved in every way just like a woman, giving her all: forgetting herself, dedicating herself without reservation to the man who was her life, even if it meant her own demise; in short, it was true love.

  But I, on the other hand – oh, what awful hours I spent! – awful! and yet well worth wishing back – how often I wept on Bendel’s breast after the unconscious raptures of love had subsided, when I came to my senses and cast a sharp eye upon myself. How could I, a man without a shadow, so selfishly and deceitfully corrupt such an angel, besmirch and filch her pure soul! At first I resolved to reveal to her the truth about myself; then I swore with solemn oaths to tear myself away from her and escape; then I broke down in tears all over again, forgot my resolve and made arrangements with Bendel that very evening to visit the forest warden’s garden.

  At times I deceived myself, putting great store in the imminent visit of the grey stranger, and then I wept again and gave up all hope. I had calculated the day on which I was once again to meet that awful man; for he had said it would be a year and a day, and I took him at his word.

  Mina’s parents were kind, honourable old folk who loved their only child very much; the nature of our involvement, once they fathomed the depth of emotion Mina and I already felt for each other, came as a total surprise to them, and they didn’t know what to do. They would never have dreamt that Count Peter might so much as blink an eye at their child; now he was in love with her, and was loved in return. The mother was indeed vain enough to imagine the possibility of a match and to work towards that end, but the old man’s healthy common sense could not countenance such far-fetched aspirations. Both were in any case convinced of my pure intentions; they could do nothing but pray for their child. I still have a letter that Mina wrote me back then. Here it is. Word for word!

  ‘What a weak and foolish girl I am – just to imagine that because I love him so very, very much, my beloved would not want to hurt me. Dear heart, you are so good, so unspeakably good to me; but you mustn’t, mustn’t sacrifice anything for me; O God! how I could hate myself if you ever were to do such a thing. No – you have already made me so immeasurably happy. You taught me how to love you. But enough of this nonsense – I know what lies in store for me, Count Peter belongs not to me but to the world. I’ll be proud just to hear: that was him, and that was him again, and this is what he achieved; and that those people revere him and others worship him. You see, just let me start thinking these thoughts, and I could be furious with you for forgetting your proud destiny in the arms of a simple-minded child.

  ‘Enough! Better stop, or the thought of you may yet make me sad, you, oh you! who have made me so happy, so very happy. Have I not also woven an olive branch and a rosebud in your life, as in the wreath that I was privileged to pass to you? I will always have you here in my heart, my beloved, so don’t be afraid to leave me. Dear God, I could die, you’ve made me so happy, so unspeakably happy.’

  You can well imagine how these words cut me to the quick. I tried to explain to her that I was not who people thought I was, that I was nothing but a rich, if miserable, man. A curse was upon me, the nature of which would have to remain a secret between us for the moment, since I had not yet given up all hope of its being lifted. This curse was the poison of my days; and heaven forbid that I drag her along with me into the abyss, she who was the only light, the only joy, the very heartbeat of my life. Then she wept again at my unhappiness. Dear God, she was so loving, so good! Just to save me a single tear, that blessed child, she would have sacrificed herself. In truth, she was far from fathoming the real meaning of my words; she imagined me to be the scion of a noble dynasty, a grand and respected ruler struck down by some ill-fated happenstance, and her active imagination sketched out an elaborate heroic backdrop for the portrait of her beloved.

  Once again I said to her, ‘Mina, dear, the last day of the coming month may alter and decide my fate; if things go badly, then I must die, for I could not bear to make you unhappy.’ She buried her tear-stained face in my arms. ‘Should destiny rule in your favour, just let me know that you are well, I have no claim on you. But if misery is to be your lot, then bind me to you so that I may help you bear it.’

  ‘My dear girl, take back those rash and foolish words – do you know the misery of which you speak, can you picture the curse? Do you know who your beloved – who he – is? Can’t you see how I’m standing here shuddering before you, carrying the burden of a terrible secret?’ She f
ell sobbing at my feet, and with solemn oaths repeated her plea.

  To the forest warden, who at that very moment happened upon us, I declared my intention of asking his daughter’s hand in marriage on the first day of the next month. I specified the time and date, explaining that certain things might happen between now and then that could have a hand in my fate. The only certainty was my love for his daughter.

  The good man was considerably taken aback to hear such words from the mouth of Count Peter. He hugged me to him, and immediately thereafter felt mightily ashamed to have lost control of himself. Then doubt entered his mind, followed by deliberation and paternal concern; he spoke of the dowry, of security and of his worry above all for the future of his beloved child. I thanked him for bringing all these matters to my attention. I informed him that I wished to settle permanently here where I appeared to be so popular, and that I hoped to lead a carefree life. I bid him acquire in his daughter’s name the finest properties available in the area, and to charge the purchase price to me. It was in this way, I said, that a father could best serve the happy couple. This gave him much to do, as wherever he turned some stranger had good land to offer; he restricted himself to the purchase of a mere million-worth of property.