German fiction -- Translations into English; Netherlands -- History -- Eighty Years' War, 1568-1648 -- Fiction
"No, no! Oh, child, how you torture me! I know how I sinned against
your father, the thought does not cease to torture me, for he truly loved
me, and I loved him, too, loved him tenderly. But I cannot keep quiet a
long time, and cast down my eyes, like the women there, it is not in my
blood; and Adam shut me up in a cage and for many years let me see
nothing except himself, and the cold, stupid city in the ravine by the
forest. One day a fierce longing came upon me, I could not help going
forth--forth into the wide world, no matter with whom or whither. The
soldier only needed to hint and I fell.--I did not stay with him long,
he was a windy braggart; but I was faithful to Captain Grandgagnage and
accompanied the wild fellow with the Walloons through every land, until
he was shot. Then ten years ago, I joined Zorrillo; he is my friend,
he shares my feelings, I am necessary to his existence. Do not laugh,
Ulrich; I well know that youth lies behind me, that I am old, yet
Pasquale loves me; since I have had him, I have been more content and,
Holy Virgin! now--I love him in return. Oh, Heaven! Oh, Heaven! Why
is it so? This heart, this miserable heart, still throbs as fast as it
did twenty years ago."
"You will not leave him?"
"No, no, I love him, and I know why. Every one calls him a brave man,
yet they only half know him; no one knows him wholly as I do. No one
else is so good, so generous. You must let me speak! Do you suppose I
ever forgot you? Never, never! But you have always been to me the dear
little boy; I never thought of you as a man, and since I could not have
you and longed so greatly for you, for a child, I opened my heart to the
soldiers' orphans, the little creature you saw in the tent is one of
these poor things, I have often had two or three such babies at the same
time. It would have been an abomination to Grandgagnage, but Zorrillo
rejoices in my love for children, and I have given what the Walloon
bequeathed me and his own booty to the soldiers' widows and the little
naked babies in the camp. He was satisfied, for whatever I do pleases
him. I will not, cannot leave him!"
She paused, hiding her face in her hands, but Ulrich paced to and fro,
violently agitated. At last he said firmly: "Yet you must part from him.
He or I! I will have nothing to do with the lover of my father's wife.
I am Adam's son, and will be constant to him. Ah, mother, I have been
deprived of you so long. You can tend strangers' orphaned children, yet
you make your own son an orphan. Will you do this? No, a thousand
times, no, you cannot! Do not weep so, you must not weep! Hear me, hear
me! For my sake, leave this Spaniard! You will not repent it. I have
just been dreaming of the nest I will build for you. There I will
cherish and care for you, and you shall keep as many orphan children as
you choose. Leave him, mother, you must leave him for the sake of your
child, your Ulrich!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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