Tales from the German, Comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors
General
Tales from the German, Comprising specimens from the most celebrated authors
German fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories
Crocus was silent. The sight of the charming elf had made upon him
more impression than her discourse, of which he understood but little.
She perceived his confusion, and to extricate him from it took a dry
reed from the bank of the lake, broke it into three pieces, and said:
“Choose one of these three, or take one without choice. In the first
is fame and honour, in the second are riches and wise use of them, and
in the third happy love is contained for thee.” The young man cast his
eyes to the ground and answered: “Daughter of Heaven, if thou intendest
to grant the wish of my heart, know that it is not contained in the
three reeds which thou offerest; my heart seeks a still greater reward.
What is honour but the fuel of pride, what are riches but the root of
avarice, and what is love but the trap of passion, to ensnare the noble
liberty of the heart? Grant me my desire of resting beneath the shadow
of thy oak, from the fatigue of the campaign, and of hearing from thy
sweet mouth doctrines of wisdom, that thus I may decipher the future.”
“Thy wish,” replied the elf, “is great, but what thou deservest at my
hands is not less, and therefore let it be as thou hast requested. The
bandage before thy corporeal eyes shall vanish, that thou mayst behold
the secrets of hidden wisdom. With the enjoyment of the fruit take
also the shell, for the wise man is also held in honour. He alone is
rich, for he desires no more than he actually needs, and he tastes the
nectar of love without poisoning it with impure lips.” When she had
said this she again presented him the three pieces of reed, and
vanished.
The young hermit prepared his bed of moss under the oak, highly
delighted at the reception which the elf had accorded him. Sleep
overcame him like an armed man, cheerful morning dreams danced round
his head, and nourished his fancy with the fragrance of happy
anticipations. As soon as he woke he joyously began his day’s work,
built himself a commodious hut, dug his garden, and planted roses and
lilies, and other sweetly-smelling flowers and vegetables, not without
cabbages and kitchen herbs, besides an assortment of fruit-trees. The
elf did not fail to pay him a visit in the twilight of every evening,
took pleasure in the produce of his industry, walked with him hand in
hand along the reedy bank of the pond, until the waving reed murmured
forth a melodious evening greeting to the friendly pair, when the
breeze rustled through it. The elf initiated her docile pupil into the
secrets of nature, instructed him in the origin and issue of things,
taught him their natural and magical qualities and virtues, and formed
the rough warrior to a thinker and a philosopher.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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