The Adventurous Simplicissimus: being the description of the Life of a Strange vagabond named Melchior Sternfels von FuchshaimGrimmelshausen, Hans Jakob Christoph von
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The Adventurous Simplicissimus: being the description of the Life of a Strange vagabond named Melchior Sternfels von Fuchshaim
Grimmelshausen, Hans Jakob Christoph von
German fiction -- Translations into English; Thirty Years' War, 1618-1648 -- Fiction
But now being afeared lest some fact should come to light that would
disgrace my birth, I turned the discourse upon the goat again and asked
if he had sold it to the hostess for cooking, which would seem strange
to me as knowing that her guests used not to eat old goat's flesh. But
"Nay, your worship," quoth the peasant, "the hostess hath goats enow
and will pay naught for such: I do bring her for the countess that is
at the spa to bathe. For Doctor Busybody hath ordered certain herbs for
this goat to eat: and the milk that she gives therefrom the doctor
taketh to make a medicine for the countess, that is to drink the milk
and so be cured: for they say the countess hath no stomach, and if the
goat help her 'twill do more than the doctor and all his sawbones
together." While he thus talked I considered how I might have further
speech with him, and so offered him for the goat a dollar more than the
doctor or the countess would give: to which he readily agreed (for
small gain will easily turn folk), yet on condition he should first
tell the countess that I had bid a thaler more: and if she would give
as much she should have the preference: if not, he would bring me the
goat and would in the evening let me know how the business stood. With
that my dad went his way and I, with my company, ours: yet could I and
would I not stay longer with them, but turned me back and went where I
found my dad again: who still had his goat, for others would not give
him so much as I: which, for so rich people, did amaze me, yet made me
not more niggardly: for I took him to my new-bought farm and paid him
for his goat, and when I had him half-foxed I asked of him whence came
the lad to him of whom we spoke to-day. "Ah, your worship," says he,
"the Mansfeld war brought him to me and the Nördlingen battle took him
away again." "And that," quoth I, "must be a merry story," and so I
begged him, since we had naught else to talk of, to tell it me to pass
the time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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