German fiction -- Translations into English; Leipzig (Germany) -- Fiction
With this statement Rosalie stopped and looked around her, frightened by
her own frankness, which she now recognized as unwise and fatal to the
last degree.
The unlooked-for and dignified reserve of her injured husband, together
with his ghastly paleness disturbed her, and her inquietude grew to
painful anxiety as he maintained silence. At length he said "I have
learned to love you truly and passionately, my wife, and now you show me
how you have returned the affection which my heart bestowed upon you.
You are right when you accuse me of having laid too much stress upon vain
trifles. For that very fault I have been most severely punished, for had
I wooed you in woollen, instead of in velvet, I should never have had the
misfortune to be bound to a woman like you. Nor was it love that led me
to you, but the miserable ambition to bring a nobleman's daughter into my
burgher home. So we both deceived each other, and now if you wish to
return whence I took you--you may leave my home unhindered."
The young wife buried her face in her hands and answered: "No, no, life
is too miserable and poverty-stricken at home and I have suffered too
much in the long struggle to keep up appearances. And then what would
people say? No, no,--I will do everything that I can to please you."
"Very well, you may stay," he replied gloomily.
Frau Schimmel, who had been in the room for some time, turned to the
notary and said: "The Court apothecary used to say that I was stupid,
but thirty years ago I foretold what has happened here today."
She then implored Zeno to throw the elixir into the Pleisse, but for the
first time he exhibited a will of his own. He put the phial and the
document in his father's writing into his breast pocket, and tucking the
gray-haired notary under his arm, he left the room.
Frau Schimmel followed his example. Having reached the ground-floor she
stopped and, shaking her gray head, murmured: "Doctor Melchior was such
a wise man, I wonder he did not order that each of his successors should
make the girl of his choice inhale the elixir before he proposed to her.
The life I led with Vorkel, and with my second husband Schimmel, who lies
beside the first in the churchyard, was hardly perfect, but Zeno's
existence will be hell upon earth."
But this time Frau Schimmel was a little wide of the mark in her
prophesy. The two young people, for a time, treated each other distantly
and coldly, but Fran Rosalie learned to regard her husband with a timid
respect that sat well upon her. As for him he was transformed into a
stern man since he had inhaled the elixir, and his severe dress seemed
but an outward sign of his earnestness. Before the year was out a boy
was given to them, and when Rosalie saw him take the little one in his
arms and kiss it, she called him to her bedside and whispered: "Forgive
me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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