Short stories, German -- Translations into English
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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