Tales of the Caravan, Inn, and PalaceHauff, Wilhelm
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Tales of the Caravan, Inn, and Palace
Hauff, Wilhelm
Short stories, German -- Translations into English
I was sitting in my lonely prison on the evening of the day that had
decided my fate, with my hopes all dissipated, and my thoughts
earnestly turned on death, when my prison door opened, and a man
entered, who regarded me long and silently. "And thus I find you once
more, Zaleukos?" said he. I had not recognized him by the dull gleam of
my lamp, but the tone of his voice awoke old memories in me. It was
Valetty, one of the few friends I had made during my studies in Paris.
He said that happening to come to Florence, where his father, who was a
man of prominence, lived, he heard of my story; he had come to see me,
to learn from my own lips how I had come to commit so terrible a crime.
I told him the whole story. He seemed very much astonished, and
implored me to tell him, my only friend, the whole truth, and not die
with a lie on my lips, I swore to him by every thing that was sacred
that I had spoken the truth, and that the only burden on my conscience
was that, dazed by the glitter of the gold, I had not perceived the
improbabilities in the stranger's story. "Then you did not know
Bianca?" asked he. I assured him that I had never seen her before.
Valetty then told me that a deep secret hung over the deed, that the
Governor had passed sentence on me very hastily, and there was a rumor
among the people that I had known Bianca for a long time, and had
murdered her out of revenge for her approaching marriage with another.
I remarked to him that all this might apply to the man in the red
mantle, but that I was unable to prove his participation in the deed.
Valetty embraced me, weeping, and promised to make every effort to save
my life. I had but little hope, yet I knew that Valetty was a wise man
and experienced in the laws, and that he would do his best to save me.
For two long days I remained in uncertainty. At last Valetty appeared.
"I bring you consolation, even though it be painful," said he. "You
will live and be set at liberty; but with the loss of a hand."
Joyfully I thanked my friend for my life. He told me that the Governor
was inexorably opposed to opening the case again, but that finally, in
order not to appear unjust, he agreed that if a similar case could be
found in any books of Florentine history, then my punishment should be
regulated by the punishment there recorded. Valetty and his father had
thereupon looked through the old books by day and night, and finally
found a case the exact counterpart of mine. The punishment there
awarded was stated thus: "His left hand shall be amputated, his goods
confiscated, and he himself banished forever." This was now to be my
punishment; and I had to prepare myself for the painful ordeal that
awaited me. But I will not dwell on that terrible hour when I stood on
the public square, laid my hand on the block, and felt my own blood
stream over me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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