What the Swallow Sang: A NovelSpielhagen, Friedrich
General
What the Swallow Sang: A Novel
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Fiction
"The handsome young couple came here. I saw them again by accident a
few years after, when business chanced to bring me into this
neighborhood, for I would have gone out of my way to avoid a meeting
which could only cause me pain. But as I drove through Rammin, one of
the wheels of my carriage broke directly in front of the parsonage. I
was thrown out so violently that I dislocated my arm, and was compelled
to claim your parents' hospitality for several weeks. You cannot
remember me, but I can still see the curly-haired, large-eyed little
boy, who played so happily at his mother's side among the beds of
asters in the garden in the autumn sunlight, and, thank God, had no
suspicion of the meaning of the mournful expression with which the
beautiful young mother often gazed over the child's head into vacancy.
Alas! for her the flowers did not bloom, the sun did not shine;
everything around her was dark, and darkness was within her, in her
warm young heart. And it was the same in the ardent heart of the man
whom she had once so passionately loved, and who had loved her with
equal fervor, who, I am perfectly sure, loved her with no less devotion
at that moment, when they already seemed to hate each other, perhaps
fancied they did. Oh! my dear friend, I won't preach--I won't begin our
late dispute again; but how can I help touching the wound, and saying:
'Here again it was--and in a fatal manner--the want of moderation,
which will not be satisfied with things as they are, will not try to
make the best of circumstances, but releasing itself from commonplace
conditions, strives to realize an ideal vision'? These two beautiful
natures, which could offer so much, be so much to each other,
considered it nothing because it was not all. She expected him to be
not only the champion of the Church before whom she had at first knelt
in admiration, but also to possess every virtue the intelligent,
much-courted young girl had ever admired in any man. He expected her to
wear, in addition to all the charms with which nature had so lavishly
endowed her--I know not what mystic crown, without which all earthly
beauty was valueless in the eyes of the enthusiastic apostle. And
instead of trying to lessen the necessary differences between their
natures as much as possible by gentleness and patience, and overlook
the remnant which would still be left, out of respect for the Great
Power of which we are only an infinitesimal part, both with fatal
defiance increased their special gifts; he wanted to do nothing but see
and read obscure writings by a glass; she, who had always been far too
proud to be vain, declared that the glass told her nothing except that
she was young and beautiful, as the world was, in spite of all fanatics
and devotees. And now this strange conflict went on in the quiet
parsonage of a little village, on an island which in those days was
almost entirely secluded from all intercourse with the outside
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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