Translations from the German (Vol 3 of 3): Tales by Musæus, Tieck, Richter — John Shaqi
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
Pursuant to Mine Host's direction, he ascended the winding stone stair;
and reached a bolted door, which he opened with his key. A long dark
gallery, where his footsteps resounded, led him into a large hall, and
from this, a side-door, into a suite of apartments, richly provided with
all furniture for decoration or convenience. Out of these he chose the
room which had the friendliest aspect, where he found a well-pillowed
bed; and from the window could look right down upon the inn, and catch
every loud word that was spoken there. He lit his wax-tapers, furnished
his table, and feasted with the commodiousness and relish of an
Otaheitean noble. The big-bellied flask was an antidote to thirst. So
long as his teeth were in full occupation, he had no time to think of
the reported devilry in the Castle. If aught now and then made a stir in
the distance, and Fear called to him, "Hark! hark! there comes the
Goblin;" Courage answered: "Stuff! it is cats and martins bickering and
caterwauling." But in the digestive half-hour after meat, when the sixth
sense, that of hunger and thirst, no longer occupied the soul, she
directed her attention from the other five exclusively upon the sense of
hearing; and already Fear was whispering three timid thoughts into the
listener's ear, before Courage had time to answer once.
As the first resource, he locked the door, and bolted it; made his
retreat to the walled seat in the vault of the window. He opened this,
and to dissipate his thoughts a little, looked out on the spangled sky,
gazed at the corroded moon, and counted how often the stars snuffed
themselves. On the road beneath him all was void; and in spite of the
pretended nightly bustle in the inn, the doors were shut, the lights
out, and everything as still as in a sepulchre. On the other hand, the
watchman blew his horn, making his "List, gentlemen!" sound over all the
hamlet; and for the composure of the timorous astronomer, who still kept
feasting his eyes on the splendour of the stars, uplifted a rusty
evening-hymn right under his window; so that Franz might easily have
carried on a conversation with him, which, for the sake of company, he
would willingly have done, had he in the least expected that the
watchman would make answer to him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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