The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 11: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated Into English
General
The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 11: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated Into English
German literature -- 19th century -- Translations into English; German literature -- 20th century -- Translations into English
Reinhold could not take his eyes from the fine old face, whose
expression constantly changed but never showed the slightest trace of
shallowness or commonplace, remaining always dignified and strong,
nor from the splendid head which, now that his abundant curly hair
and bushy beard had grown quite gray, appeared more stately, more
majestic than in former years. And at the same time he was compelled
to think constantly of another face, opposite which he had sat but a
few evenings before--that of General von Werben, with features likewise
fine and sturdy, to be sure, but more composed, more concentrated,
without the glowing fervor which, in Uncle Ernst, shone out in a
splendid flash, or again, with threatening gleam, as if from beneath an
ashy covering. Reinhold had said to himself from the beginning that it
might not be long before he should have proof that this inner, scarcely
subdued glow was threatening, and needed only an occasion to break
forth with stormy violence; and he was not deceived.
In the narration of his journeys and wanderings he had come to the day,
when, in Southampton, he received news of the outbreak of the war,
and severed all his connections, gave up his other occupations and
habits, and returned to Germany to fulfil his duty toward his native
land which was in peril.--"The enthusiasm," he explained, "dictated my
determination; with full devotion and the use of all my intellectual
and physical powers, I carried it out from beginning to end, without--I
may be permitted to say so--even once growing weary, flagging, or
doubting for a moment that the cause to which I had consecrated myself
was a holy one, however unholy the horrible bloody vestments in which
it had to be enveloped. Then when the great object was attained, in
a greater, better, fuller sense than I and indeed all who had gone
into the battle with me had thought, had imagined, had desired, had
intended--then I returned to my old occupation without delay, steered
my ship again over the sea, in the silent happy consciousness of
having done my duty; in the assurance of finding in the shadow of the
German flag a bit of home everywhere, wherever the changing fate of
the mariner might lead me; in the happy confidence that you in the
fair Fatherland would never let the hard-won victory be lost, but
would employ the precious time in filling out and completing the work
so nobly planned, so vigorously begun, and that if I returned home it
would be to a land full of joy and peace and sunshine in the hearts and
countenances of all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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