The Old Man of the Mountain, The Lovecharm and Pietro of Abano: Tales from the German of TieckTieck, Ludwig
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The Old Man of the Mountain, The Lovecharm and Pietro of Abano: Tales from the German of Tieck
Tieck, Ludwig
German fiction -- Translations into English
a stranger to me, with all his feelings purposely and studiously
alienated from me: but his over-weak, too passionately fond mother was
no gainer thereby; for she likewise lost his depraved heart, over
which, when the boy was grown up, she had not the slightest influence.
How reckless and unmanageable he has been, you well know; how wretched
his mother has become, is notorious; but my life too, my friends, is a
lost one."
A servant came hastily in, and told the counsellor he must go home
immediately: for something of great importance had happened.
* * * * *
The wife of counsellor Helbach was sitting in her bedroom, which only
let in a faint dim light from the court. Her tear-worn eyes were
stedfastly fixt on an open gospel; she read devoutly, and prayed.
Suddenly she heard a noise; her servant was pusht forcibly back by
some one whom he was trying to keep away; the door was thrust open,
and a young man threw himself impetuously at her feet, seized her hand
in her fright and covered it with kisses, while a hot flood of tears
gusht from his eyes. It was not till after a while that the mother
recognized the son whom she had deemed lost. Her strong emotions
overcame her: she askt: "Whence comest thou?... stand up ... my
unhappy child come to my arms...." More she could not say.
"You do not cast me off, you do not abhor me?" cried the youth in a
trance of grief: "Oh God! have I deserved that a single spark of love
for me should yet linger in this noble heart! Am I worthy of a single
look from her!"
They continued long closely embraced, and quite unable to speak. "But
mother," the young man said at length, "can you hold the monster in
your arms, to your heart, who, when he last saw you--"
"No, my son, my beloved son, do not call back that horrible moment,
which we must forget;" so the mother stammered out. "I too know now
that I did you injustice then; the girl you loved is worthy of your
love, as has been proved since. I myself had not taught you
sufficiently to controul your passions. Let that hour vanish for ever
like a painful dream from our lives. But whence comest thou? where
hast thou been living all this time?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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