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
The noble wines of Hochheim, of Bacharach, and of Klingenberg
they tipped into their bellies in glasses as big as buckets, which
presently shewed their effects higher up, in the head. And thereupon I
saw with wonder how all changed; for here were reputable folk, which
just before were in possession of their five senses and sitting in
peace by one another, now beginning of a sudden to act the fool and to
play the silliest tricks in the world. And the great follies which they
did commit and the huge draughts which they drank to each other became
bigger as time went on, so that it seemed as if fooleries and draughts
strove with each other which of them should be accounted the greater:
but at last this contest ended in a filthy piggishness. 'Twas not
wonderful that I understood not whence their giddiness came: inasmuch
as the effect of wine, and drunkenness itself, were until now quite
unknown to me: and this left in my roguish remembrance thereafter all
manner of merry pranks and fantastic imaginings: their strange looks I
could see; but the cause of their condition I knew not. Indeed up till
then each one had emptied the pot with a good appetite: but when now
their bellies were full 'twas as hard with them as with a waggoner,
that can fare well enough with his team over level ground, yet up the
hill can scarcely toil. But though their heads were bemused, their want
of strength was made good: in one man's case by his courage, well
soaked in wine: in another the loyal desire to drink yet one health to
his friend: in a third that German chivalry which must do his neighbour
right. But even such efforts must fail in the long run. Then would one
challenge another to pour the wine in in buckets to the health of the
princes or of dear friends or of a mistress. And at this many a one's
eyes turned in his head, and the cold sweat broke out: yet still the
drinking must go on; yea, at the last they must make a noise with
drums, fifes, and stringed instruments, and shot off the ordnance,
doubtless for this cause, because the wine must take their bellies by
assault. Then did I wonder where they could be rid of it all, for I
knew not that they would turn out the same before 'twas well warm
within them (and that with great pains) out of the very place into
which they had just before poured it to the great danger of their
health.
At this feast was also my pastor: and because he was a man like other
men, he must retire for a while. So I followed him and "Pastor," said
I, "why do these folk behave so strangely? How comes it that they do
reel this way and that? Sure it seems to me they be no longer in their
senses; for they have all eaten and drunken themselves full, and swear
devil take them if they can drink more, and yet they cease not to
swill. Be they compelled thereto, or is it in God's despite that they
of their free will waste all things so wantonly?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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