The Complete Short Works of Georg EbersEbers, Georg
General
The Complete Short Works of Georg Ebers
Ebers, Georg
German fiction -- Translations into English
During the day and the night when she expected his visit, she had become
aware that she, who had never cared for any man save for the gifts he
bestowed, was fired with love for Lienhard. Such ardent yearning could
torture only a loving heart, yet what she felt was very unlike the love
with which she was familiar in songs, and had seen in other girls; for
she by no means thought with jealous rancour of the woman to whom he
belonged, body and soul--his beautiful wife. It rather seemed to
her that she was his, and he would no longer be the same if he were
separated from her, nay, as if her very love was hers also. When she
heard a noise outside of her little room she started, and eagerly as she
yearned to see him, blissful as she thought it must be to sink upon his
breast and offer him her lips to kiss, the bold ropedancer, who never
cared for the opinions of others, could not shake off, even for a
moment, the fear of wronging the fair wife who had a better right to
him. Instead of hating her, or even wishing to share the heart of the
man she loved with his bride, she shrank from the approaching necessity
of clouding her young happiness as though it were the direst misfortune.
Yet she felt that its prevention lay, not in her own hands, but in those
of Fate. Should it please Destiny to lead Lienhard to her and inspire
him with a desire for her love, all resistance, she knew, would be
futile. So she began to repeat several paternosters that he might remain
away from her. But her yearning was so great that she soon desisted,
and again and again went to the window with a fervent wish that he might
come.
In the terrible tumult of her heart she had forgotten to eat or to drink
since early morning, and at last, in the afternoon, some one knocked at
the door, and the landlady called her.
While she was hurriedly smoothing her thick black hair and straightening
her best gown, which she had put on for him in the morning, she heard
the hostess say that Herr Groland of the Council was waiting for her
downstairs. Every drop of blood left her glowing cheeks, and the knees
which never trembled on the rope shook as she descended the narrow
steps.
He came forward to meet her in the entry, holding out his hand with
open-hearted frankness. How handsome and how good he was! No one wore
that look who desired aught which must be hidden under the veil of
darkness. Ere her excited blood had time to cool, he had beckoned to her
to follow him into the street, where a sedan chair was standing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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