Translations from the German (Vol 3 of 3): Tales by Musæus, Tieck, RichterCarlyle, Thomas
General
Translations from the German (Vol 3 of 3): Tales by Musæus, Tieck, Richter
Carlyle, Thomas
German fiction -- Translations into English
Franz needed no interpretation of these words. Willingly as he would
have excused his host this last civility, attendance to the door, the
latter seemed determined to abate no whit of the established ritual. He
ordered his servants to undress the stranger, and put him in the
guest's-bed; where Franz, once settled on elastic swan's down, felt
himself extremely snug, and enjoyed delicious rest; so that ere he fell
asleep, he owned to himself that, for such royal treatment, a moderate
bastinado was not too dear a price. Soon pleasant dreams came hovering
round his fancy. He found his charming Meta in a rosy grove, where she
was walking with her mother, plucking flowers. Instantly he hid himself
behind a thick-leaved hedge, that the rigorous duenna might not see him.
Again his imagination placed him in the alley, and by his looking-glass
he saw the snow-white hand of the maiden busied with her flowers; soon
he was sitting with her on the grass, and longing to declare his
heartfelt love to her, and the bashful shepherd found no words to do it
in. He would have dreamed till broad mid-day, had he not been roused by
the sonorous voice and clanking spurs of the Ritter, who, with the
earliest dawn, was holding a review of kitchen and cellar, ordering a
sufficient breakfast to be readied, and placing every servant at his
post, to be at hand when the guest should awake, to dress him, and wait
upon him.
It cost the happy dreamer no small struggling to forsake his safe and
hospitable bed. He rolled to this side and to that; but the pealing
voice of the worshipful Knight came heavy on his heart; and dally as he
might, the sour apple must at last be bit. So he rose from his down; and
immediately a dozen hands were busy dressing him. The Ritter led him
into the parlour, where a small well-furnished table waited them; but
now, when the hour of reckoning had arrived, the traveller's appetite
was gone. The host endeavoured to encourage him. "Why do you not get to?
Come, take somewhat for the raw foggy morning."
"Herr Ritter," answered Franz, "my stomach is still too full of your
supper; but my pockets are empty; these I may fill for the hunger that
is to come."
With this he began stoutly cramming, and stowed himself with the
daintiest and best that was transportable, till all his pockets were
bursting. Then, observing that his horse, well curried and equipt, was
led past, he took a dram of Dantzig for good-b'ye, in the thought that
this would be the watch-word for his host to catch him by the neck, and
exercise his household privileges.
But, to his astonishment, the Ritter shook him kindly by the hand, as at
his first entrance, wished him luck by the way, and the bolted door was
thrown open. He loitered not in putting spurs to his nag; and, tip! tap!
he was without the gate, and no hair of him harmed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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