But why go into the details of this commonplace story? You yourself have told me many like it. They followed a well-established pattern. However, in this case the well-worn comedy in which I good-humouredly played my hackneyed role, reached an unusual climax, unforeseen by actors and onlookers alike.
According to my custom, one beautiful evening I gave a party in an illuminated garden. I was walking arm-in-arm with the young lady some distance away from the rest of the party, trying hard to make polite and pleasant conversation. She was looking modestly at the ground and gently returned the pressure of my hand. Suddenly the moon broke through the clouds, throwing her shadow in front of us but not my own. She was startled and looked at me with alarm and then again at the ground, as if to search for the missing shadow. The expression on her face betrayed her thoughts. The whole spectacle was so comic that I could have burst out laughing, yet at the same time, a chill crept up my spine.
She fainted in my arms and I let her gently sink to the ground. Like an arrow from the bow I dashed past my bewildered guests, rushed through the house and reached the front door. I threw myself into the first carriage that drew up outside and drove back to the city where, to my misfortune, I had left Bendel. He was startled at my appearance. A word of explanation and post horses were ordered, I only took one of my servants with me – a crafty scoundrel appropriately called Rascal, who had managed to make himself useful to me and who could not possibly have known what had happened. We travelled thirty miles during the night. I had left Bendel behind to settle my affairs, scatter gifts and pack the most necessary things. When he joined me next day, I threw myself into his arms, I swore to be more careful in future. We continued our journey uninterrupted beyond the frontier and over a mountain range, and only when I had put such a barrier between myself and that place of misfortune, did I consent to rest awhile at a small unknown watering place to recover from the effects of my exertions.
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I MUST NOW HURRY OVER a part of my story on which I should be delighted to dwell a little longer if I could but conjure up in my memory the spirit of that period. But the colour which gave it life and which alone could do so again has faded and if I search my heart for that intoxication which was once so powerful – the sorrows, the happiness and the heavenly delusion – I am like a man striking at a rock in search of water which is not there. The inspiration has left me for ever and how different that time appears to me now. The part I tried to play in this watering place was that of a tragic hero, but being an amateur, and with very little talent at that, I soon forgot my role and fell in love with a pair of beautiful blue eyes. The parents of the young girl, deceived by the trappings of my wealth, eagerly tried to bring the marriage about, and the vulgar farce finally ended in
humiliation. That is all there is to it; it all sounds so stupid and commonplace to me now, and yet how terrible that it should, when it seemed to be so romantic and moving then. Mina! As I wept when I lost you I now weep over the fact that you mean nothing more to me. Have I become so old? O pitiful intellect of man! what would I not give for one heartbeat of those days, for one moment of that illusion. It cannot be. I am like a solitary wave on a vast sea, unable to recall even the memory of what I felt at the time.
I had sent Bendel ahead of me with bags of gold to furnish and equip a suitable house for me in the town. He had spent a great deal of money and talked mysteriously of the illustrious stranger whom he was serving, who did not wish to be named. This gave the citizens all sorts of ideas. As soon as the house was ready we started out on our journey. Bendel had returned to collect me and travelled with me now.
About an hour’s distance from the little town we found our way barred by a festive crowd. The coach stopped, we heard music, the ringing of bells and a salute of guns, and in the crowd people were cheering. A group of young maidens clad in white, came up to the door of my carriage. All were outstandingly beautiful, but one among them outshone them all as the sun outshines the brightest stars. She stepped forwards out of the group, modestly curtsied before me and presented to me on a silken cushion a wreath of laurels, olive branches and roses, murmuring as she did so something about majesty, respect and love. The meaning of this address of welcome escaped me but the silvery tone of her voice was enchanting. She seemed like a dream from heaven. After the address a choir of young girls intoned a hymn praising the good king and the happiness of his people.
All this, my dear friend, took place in the bright midday sun. She was standing two paces away from the open carriage door but I, shadowless, dared not brave the sunlight to fall on my knees before her as I would have liked. What would I not have given for a shadow at that moment. There I was, unable to move, hiding my fear and perplexity in the dark recesses of the coach. At last Bendel put an end to my embarrassment; he jumped down from the other side of the carriage and I handed him a small casket containing a gorgeous diamond tiara, which had been destined to adorn the head of the beautiful Fanny. He stepped forwards and spoke on my behalf. His master, he said, could not accept this honour – there must have been some error – but wished to convey his grateful thanks to the citizens for this demonstration of goodwill. With these words he lifted the wreath from the cushion and put the tiara in its place; then with a reverend gesture, he bade the young girl to rise, and made the assembled magistrates, clergy and other dignitaries understand that the reception had come to an end. He ordered the crowds to make room for the carriage, jumped into it and off we went at a gallop, not stopping until we reached the city, where we had to pass through a triumphal arch of branches and flowers. All the while, guns were booming in salute.
The carriage drew up at my house and, springing nimbly out, I escaped through the door from another crowd which had assembled to greet me. There was loud cheering under my windows when I was inside. I ordered double ducats to be scattered among the crowd.
At night the town was illuminated. I was still unable to make out what all this could mean and whom I was being mistaken for. I sent out my servant Rascal to obtain information. He gathered that there had been a rumour that the King of Prussia was travelling through the district under the title of Count and that the citizens, having made preparations to receive him, had recognized my aide-de-camp, who in turn had betrayed his and my true identity; the joy of knowing their King to be in their midst was great indeed. It had not at first been realized that I wished to preserve the strictest incognito and that it was therefore unseemly to try to intrude upon my privacy. It had been greatly appreciated that I had expressed my displeasure with such graciousness and it was fervently hoped that I would forgive the excess of zeal which the citizens had shown in their great loyalty.
The whole thing had seemed such a joke to my scoundrel of a servant, that he had done everything he could to confirm the good people in this belief. He gave me a most entertaining report of what had happened and, seeing that it greatly amused me, he boasted about the mischief he had done. Shall I confess? I was greatly flattered to have been – even for a moment – taken for the King. I organized a garden fête in front of the house for the following evening, to which I issued invitations to practically the whole town. It is astounding how the mysterious power of my gold, Bendel’s efforts and Rascal’s inventiveness succeeded; and how it was possible to organize everything in such a short space of time. The pomp and luxury displayed and the ingenuity of the illuminations, were such that I felt completely at ease. I could not find fault with anything and only praised the diligence of my servants.
Evening and darkness came, and with it the first guests arrived and were introduced to me. As if by general consent, the title Majesty was never used; instead I often heard, uttered in deep humility, “The Count.” What was I to do? I accepted it and from that moment I was “Count Peter.” But in the midst of this festive crowd my heart was longing only for her. She arrived late – the crown of the evening – wearing the crown I had given her the day before. She modestly walked behind her parents, quite unconscious of her beauty.
The game warden, his wife and Mina their daughter were introduced to me. I knew how to flatter and to say all sorts of pleasant things to the parents but I stood before their daughter like a schoolboy, unable to utter a single word. I finally managed to say that I was greatly honoured by her presence and invited her to preside over the festivities. Blushingly and with touching simplicity, she declined the honour but I, more abashed before her than she before me, offered her my humble respects in the presence of all the guests who, taking the cue from their host, gladly followed suit. It was a beautiful and festive evening presided over by innocence, grace and dignity. Mina’s happy parents believed that it was out of respect for them that I had honoured their child. I myself was in the seventh heaven. I had all the jewels brought – pearls, precious stones – which I had previously purchased to get rid of some of the cumbersome gold – and had them put onto two covered plates on the table. In the name of the “Queen of the evening” they were taken round among the guests for each of the ladies to select what she fancied most. Meanwhile, gold was being freely distributed among the cheering crowds outside.
The next morning Bendel confided to me that his suspicions about Rascal’s dishonesty had been confirmed. He had embezzled several sacks of gold.
“Don’t let us envy,” I said, “the poor devil his trifling loot. It’s a pleasure to me to give to everyone, so why not to him? He served me well yesterday, like all my other servants who have helped me to arrange this delightful party.”
The incident was mentioned no more; Rascal remained my head servant, Bendel my friend and confidant. The latter imagined my wealth to be inexhaustible and never inquired where it came from. He seemed to have understood my intentions and did his best to invent opportunities for me to display and to squander it. Of that unknown, pale, sneaking fellow he only knew that it was in his power to lift the curse which weighed on me and that I was afraid of the man on whom all my hopes were fixed. Besides, he thought that I was convinced that the stranger could find me anywhere, whereas I could never find him and that I had therefore abandoned my search and was waiting for the promised day. The magnificence of my party and my generosity at first confirmed the credulous citizens in their preconceived opinion as to my identity. Soon, however, it became known from the newspapers that the fabulous journey of the King of Prussia had merely been an unfounded rumour. But once a king, I had to remain a king and one of the richest and most kingly at that. But what king, no one quite knew. The world has never had cause to complain of any scarcity of monarchs, especially nowadays. And so the good people, who had never before seen one with their own eyes, happily guessed and changed their guesses from day to day. Count Peter, however, continued to be my name.
One day there arrived among the visitors to the Spa, a business man who had become rich by fraudulent bankruptcy, and who enjoyed general esteem. He cast a wide, though somewhat pale, shadow. He was determined to display his wealth and even to compete with me. I called upon my purse and soon I had got the poor devil into such straits that in order to save his reputation he had to go bankrupt once more and cross the mountains into another country. Thus I was rid of him and I must confess that I am responsible for having made many a loafer and vagabond in the district.
Despite the kingly pomp and luxury with which I held sway over my world, I lived a quiet and retiring life. I made a point of acting with the greatest caution in all things; for instance, under no pretext whatsoever was anyone except Bendel allowed to see me in my own rooms. Whenever the sun shone I remained cloistered there with him alone.
“The Count is engaged in his study,” the people said; and the messengers who came and went (dispatched by me on the most trivial business) bore out the impression that I was engaged on some important work.
Only in the evening I received company, protected by the deep shade of the trees; or in my salon, whose magnificent lighting had been skilfully arranged by Bendel so that no shadows fell. Whenever I went out – always under Bendel’s watchful eye – my one goal was the game warden’s garden. His daughter had become the one object of my existence; the core of my life was my love for her.
My dear Chamisso, I hope you have not completely forgotten what love is like, for I must leave a great deal to your imagining. Mina was truly lovely and lovable, a good and gentle child. I had captured her imagination entirely. In her modesty she wondered why I should have stooped to her. But she returned love for love with all the ardour of innocence and youth. She loved like a woman; self-sacrificing, self-effacing, living only in him to whom she had given herself; careless of her own fate: in a word, she truly loved.
But oh, those terrible yet unforgettable hours! How often I poured myself out to Bendel as I came to my senses after the first unthinking transports of rapture. How bitterly I blamed myself that I, a shadowless being, should have corrupted this angelic girl, with lies and cunning stealing her pure love. Sometimes I determined to tell her all; sometimes I swore to tear myself away from her and escape; then again I weakened and begged Bendel to arrange for me to visit her in the game warden’s garden that evening.
Sometimes I buoyed myself up with hopes of the imminent visit of the mysterious man in grey, then again I was cast into despair when I thought that he might not come. I had worked out the day when I might expect to see him. He had said he would come in a year and a day and I relied on his word.
The parents were worthy, good old folk, loving their only child most dearly. My continued pursuit of Mina and our mutual attachment had taken them by surprise and they did not know how to cope with the situation. It had never occurred to them that Count Peter would so much as look at their child; and now it was clear that he actually loved her and was loved in return. The mother, no doubt, was vain enough to dream of the possibility of such a marriage and even to try to bring it about; but the sound common sense of the old man refused to entertain such fantasies. They believed in the honesty of my love and could do nothing but pray for their daughter.
In my hand at this moment is a letter which I received from Mina in those days. Here it is in her own hand.
I know I am a weak and foolish girl, believing that my lover will never hurt me because I love him so much. Oh, you are so kind, so unspeakably good to me; but don’t misunderstand me, please. Make no sacrifices for me – do not think of it even. I would hate myself if you did. You have made me happy beyond words, you have taught me to love you. But leave me now; it is not in my stars that I should have you. Count Peter is not mine but belongs to the great world. With what pride I shall hear: ‘This was he – that he has done – there he has been loved and adored.’ When I think of this, I could blame you for forgetting your high calling for the sake of a simple girl. Leave me, if you don’t want to make me unhappy – I, who have been so happy because of you. Have I not entwined myself in your life like the olive branch and the rosebud in the garland which I was so proud to give you? I hold you in my heart, my beloved, do not be afraid to leave me. And if I die I shall have been so unspeakably blissful through you.
You can imagine how these words pierced my heart. I told her that I was not what I appeared to be; that I was merely a rich but infinitely wretched man. There was, I told her, a curse upon me, which should be the only secret between us for I still hoped that I would be delivered from it. The whole bane of my existence was this: that I might drag her – the light and soul and happiness of my life – into the abyss with me. She wept to see me so unhappy. She was so tender, so devoted. How glad she would have been to sacrifice herself to save me a single tear.
But she was very far from guessing what I meant. She probably believed I was a prince condemned to banishment, a noble leader unjustly disgraced, around whom her loving imagination painted a thousand heroic situations.
“Mina,” I said to her one day, “on the last day of next month, my fate may change and be decided; if that does not happen I must die, for I cannot bear to make you unhappy.”
She hid her face on my shoulders. “If your fate chang
es, all I want to know is that you are happy, for I have no claim on you. But if you become more miserable, then only let me stay with you to help you bear it.”
“Dearest, take back those rash and foolish promises. Can you guess at my curse and my misery? Your lover – do you know what he is? You see me trembling at the thought that you might discover my horrible secret.”
She fell sobbing at my feet and renewed her declaration with a solemn vow.
The game warden now entered and I announced to him my determination formally to ask for the hand of his daughter on the first day of the coming month, I fixed that date, I told him, because in the meantime things might happen which would greatly influence my fortunes. What could never change was my love for his daughter.
The good old man started back in amazement as these words burst from my lips. He embraced me, then dropped his arms in confusion at having forgotten himself so far. He stopped to think, doubts sprang up in his mind; he began tentatively to speak of a dowry and the future security of his beloved daughter. I told him I was glad he had brought this to my mind.
“I want to settle here,” I said, “and lead a carefree life in this neighbourhood where I appear to be well-liked.”
I told him to buy, in his daughter’s name, the finest estates he could find on the market, referring to me for payment. No one, surely, could serve me better in this matter than the father of my sweetheart. This gave him a good deal of trouble, for there was some stranger in the same market who always seemed to forestall him and he only made purchases in the amount of about 1,000,000 florins.
I confess this was a sort of innocent trick to get rid of him, to which I had been reduced once before, for it must be admitted the old man was rather a bore. His wife, on the other hand, was somewhat deaf and unlike him, not always jealous of the honour of entertaining the noble Count.
Peter Schlemihl Page 3