The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 05: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English
Philosophy
The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 05: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English
German literature -- 19th century -- Translations into English; German literature -- 20th century -- Translations into English
At the city gate I was compelled to hear again from the
sentinel--"Where has the gentleman left his shadow?" And immediately
again from some women--"Jesus Maria! the poor fellow has no shadow!"
That began to irritate me, and I became especially careful not to walk
in the sun. This could not, however, be accomplished everywhere--for
instance, over the broad street which I next must cross, actually, as
mischief would have it, at the very moment that the boys came out
of school. A cursed hunch-backed rogue, I see him yet, spied out
instantly that I had no shadow. He proclaimed the fact with a loud
outcry to the whole assembled literary street youth of the suburb,
who began forthwith to criticise me, and to pelt me with mud. "Decent
people are accustomed to take their shadows with them, when they go
into the sunshine." To defend myself from them I threw whole handfuls
of gold amongst them and sprang into a hackney-coach, which some
compassionate soul procured for me.
As soon as I found myself alone in the rolling carriage I began to
weep bitterly. The presentiment must already have arisen in me that,
far as gold on earth transcends in estimation merit and virtue,
so much higher than gold itself is the shadow valued; and as I had
earlier sacrificed wealth to conscience, I had now thrown away the
shadow for mere gold. What in the world could and would become of me!
I was still greatly discomposed as the carriage stopped before my
old inn. I was horrified at the bare idea of entering that wretched
cock-loft. I ordered my things to be brought down; received my
miserable bundle with contempt, threw down some gold pieces, and
ordered the coachman to drive to the most fashionable hotel. The house
faced the north, and I had not the sun to fear. I dismissed the driver
with gold; caused the best front rooms to be assigned me, and shut
myself up in them as quickly as I could!
What thinkest thou I now began? Oh, my dear Chamisso, to confess it
even to thee makes me blush. I drew the unlucky purse from my bosom,
and with a kind of rage which, like a rushing conflagration, grew in
me with self-increasing growth, I extracted gold, and gold, and gold,
and ever more gold, and strewed it on the floor, and strode amongst
it, and made it ring again, and, feeding my poor heart on the splendor
and the sound, flung continually more metal to metal, till in my
weariness I sank down on the rich heap, and, rioting thereon, rolled
and reveled upon it. So passed the day, the evening. I opened not my
door; the night found me lying on my gold, and then sleep overcame me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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