Tales of the German Imagination from the Brothers Grimm to Ingeborg Bachmann (Penguin Classics) (19 page)

BOOK: Tales of the German Imagination from the Brothers Grimm to Ingeborg Bachmann (Penguin Classics)
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‘You must after all admit,’ he continued, ‘that a hood like this one is far more convenient. For it hides not only the man but his shadow as well, and as many other shadows as he cares to take under his wing. You will notice,’ he said, ‘that today I once again have two shadows on the leash.’ He laughed again. ‘Remember this, Schlemiel – what at first you refuse to do of your own free will you will be forced to agree to in the end. Why not buy the thing back and retrieve your bride – there’s still time, I assure you – and together we’ll see that Rascal swinging on the gallows where he belongs, that’d be an easy matter as long as there’s rope enough to hold him. And I’ll tell you what, I’ll throw in my magic hood as part of the deal.’

The old mother followed her husband out of the house, and the conversation began. ‘How is Mina?’

‘She’s crying.’

‘Oh, that foolish child! What’s done is done!’

‘I know, but to give her so soon to another – Father, how can you be so cruel to your own child!’

‘No, Mother, you’ve got the wrong idea. If before having wept her last childish tear she finds herself wed to a rich and honourable man, why, she’ll wake relieved out of her misery as out of a bad dream, and she’ll thank God and her parents for it, mark my word!’

‘God willing!’

‘She may now possess considerable assets, but after all the uproar of that unhappy affair with the adventurer has died down, do you really think she’d ever be likely to find so soon as good a match as Mr Rascal? Do you have any idea how rich he is, this Mr Rascal? He owns property hereabouts worth six million, no mortgages, all paid for in cash. I held the deeds in my own hands! It was he who beat me to the choice pickings everywhere; and in addition to that, he has IOUs from Mr Thomas John for about four and a half million.’

‘He must have stolen a lot.’

‘How can you talk like that! He saved wisely where others tossed money to the wind.’

‘He was a livery servant by trade.’

‘Nonsense! Does he not possess an impeccable shadow?’

‘Maybe you’re right, but—’

The man in the grey coat laughed and looked at me. The door flew open, and out stepped Mina. She was leaning on the arm of a lady-in-waiting; quiet tears ran down her lovely pale cheeks. She lowered herself into a chair that had been set out for her under the linden trees, and her father pulled up a chair beside her. He gently took her hand in his, and spoke to her in a kindly voice as she burst into another fit of weeping.

‘You are my good, sweet child, you’ll be sensible, I’m sure, and won’t disappoint your dear old father who has nothing but your happiness at heart. I understand, my dear, how deeply upset you are, but a lucky turn of events allowed you to elude your misfortune! I know, before we discovered his shameful charade, how much you loved that no-good cad; you see, Mina, I do not fault you for the depth of your feelings. I myself, dear child, was deceived by him, I loved him too, so long as I took him for a noble personage. But now you yourself must admit that everything has changed. For heaven’s sake, every humble dog has a shadow, and to think that my beloved child should wed a man who – no, you must put him out of your mind at once. Listen, Mina, a gentleman has come to woo you, a man not afraid to be seen in broad daylight, an honourable man, who may not be a count, but he’s worth ten million, ten times more than you own, a man who will make my beloved child happy. Don’t contradict me now, don’t oppose my will, just be my sweet, obedient daughter, and permit your loving father to fend for you, and dry those tears. Promise me that you will agree to marry Mr Rascal. Now then, will you give me your word?’

She replied in a muffled murmur, ‘I have no more will of my own, no further wish on earth. Let my father do with me as he wants.’

At that very moment, Rascal was announced and strode impudently into their midst. Mina collapsed in a faint. My hated companion gave me an angry look. ‘How could you let
this happen! Is it blood or water you have running through your veins?’ With a rapid motion, he scratched a surface wound in my hand, I bled, and he continued, ‘Red blood indeed! Now then, sign!’ And he thrust the parchment and quill into my hands.

VII

I will defer to your judgement, dear Chamisso, and not attempt to sway you with sweet lies. I myself have long weighed my guilt, nurturing the torturous worm of conscience in my heart. This solemn moment of my life kept hovering before me as if it were only yesterday, and I could only bear to look askance at it with contrition and humility. Dear friend, whosoever frivolously sets foot on the straight and narrow path intending to persevere, he will be lured unexpectedly down other byways that lead him downwards and ever downwards to his doom; to no avail are the guiding lights he may glimpse shimmering in the night sky, he has no choice but to keep right on walking into the abyss, to sacrifice himself to the ineluctable nemesis of his deeds. Following that impetuous error that brought this curse on me, trifling with love, I callously ploughed into the destiny of another; and there where I had despoiled goodness, where only a quick move could save the day, what else could I do but leap blindly to the rescue? For the final hour had struck.

Don’t think so badly of me, Adelbert, as to suppose that any price would have seemed too dear, that I would have skimped on anything in my possession, be it goods or gold. No, Adelbert; but my soul was filled with insurmountable loathing for that inscrutable creature who had led me down the crooked path. It may be that I did him an injustice, but I could not bear to have any further truck with him. And here again, as so often before in my life, and in the history of the world for that matter, happenstance took the place of action. Years later I finally made peace with myself. I first had to learn to respect necessity – what’s done is done, what’s happened has happened, the past is a fait accompli. And then I learnt to respect this necessity in and of itself as the wise and providential force that holds sway over the whole grand scheme of things, the machinery in
which we are but inconsequential cogs, driven and driving through no will of our own; what must be must be, and what had to happen happened, and all is governed by that providential force that I finally learnt to honour as the master of my destiny and the destiny of those who crossed my path.

I don’t know if I ought to ascribe it to the strain on my soul in the sway of such mighty emotions or to my state of total exhaustion, drained as I was by the unceasing travail of the past few days, or to the destructive agitation stirred up in my very nature by the proximity of that grey fiend – for whatever reason, I fell unconscious when the time came to sign, and for a long time I lay as if in death’s embrace.

The sounds of stamping and cursing were the first to strike my ear as I came to again. I opened my eyes and it was dark; my hated companion was busy rebuking me. ‘Carrying on like an old woman! We had best pull ourselves together and make good our resolve, or have we had a change of heart and would rather lie here blubbering?’ With great effort I sat up on the ground where I had lain and silently peered about. It was late evening, and festive music emanated from the lighted windows of the forest warden’s house as small groups of celebrants strolled up and down the paths in the garden. One couple stepped closer and sat down on the bench on which I had previously been seated. They spoke of the marriage that had taken place that very morning between the wealthy Mr Rascal and the daughter of the household. So it had finally happened.

I brushed off my head the magic hood of invisibility the mysterious stranger had laid upon it, whereupon he immediately disappeared and I, in turn, hurried off in silence to bury myself in the dark wall of bushes. Making my way to Count Peter’s bower, I approached the garden gate. Invisible all the while, my tormentor kept hounding me with sharp words. ‘So this is the thanks I get for all my efforts on your behalf, Monsieur, with your weak nerves, the thanks for nursing you the whole day long. And I thought we’d dropped the joker from our deck. Very well, Mr Thickhead, you just go on trying to elude me, don’t you know we’re inseparable, as thick as two thieves? You have my gold and I have your shadow; that tightens the bond
between us. Has anyone ever heard of a shadow forsaking its master? Yours keeps me tied to you, until you mercifully take it back and rid me of its burden. What you failed to do of your own free will you’ll have to do anyway – too late alas – in disgust and ennui; you can’t escape your fate.’ He kept jabbering on and on in the same scornful tone. I fled, but for naught; forever present, he kept bending my ear about his gold and my shadow. I couldn’t even hear myself think.

Slinking along down deserted streets, I made my way home. When at last I stood before it, staring at the once-familiar façade, it was scarcely recognizable; not a single light burned behind its shattered windows. The doors were shut, no servants stirred within. That awful voice laughed out loud beside me. ‘That’s the way it is, my friend! If it’s any consolation, you’ll find your faithful Bendel within; they brought him home in such a state that I’m quite sure he hasn’t set foot outside since.’ He laughed again. ‘The old duffer’ll have a few stories to tell! Very well then! Farewell for now, see you soon!’

I rang and knocked repeatedly; at last a light went on. ‘Who’s there?’ Bendel enquired from within. When the good man heard my voice, he could scarcely control his emotions; the door flew open, and we ran weeping into each other’s arms. I found him changed, weak and sickly, but then I too had turned grey.

He led me through the ravaged rooms to an inner chamber that had been spared the fury of the crowd. He brought me food and drink, we sat down, and again he burst out weeping. He told me that he had pursued and wrestled so long with the man in grey, whom he’d spotted in possession of my shadow, determined as he was to wrest it from him, that he lost all trace of me and finally collapsed in exhaustion. Afterwards, unable as he was to find a trace of me anywhere, he returned to look after my property, when a mob, on Rascal’s instigation, stormed the door, smashed the windows and raged and looted to their hearts’ content. This was how they repaid the kindness of their benefactor. My servants took flight. The local constabulary forthwith declared me
persona non grata
and gave me twenty-four hours to pack up and leave. Moreover, he filled me in on
the details I did not know of Rascal’s material acquisition and precipitous matrimony. That cunning scoundrel, the instigator of all the misfortunes that had befallen me here, must have known my secret from the very beginning; it appears that, attracted by the lure of gold, he managed to ingratiate himself with me. At the start he obtained a duplicate key to the cabinet in which I kept all my gold and, drawing freely thereupon, built his considerable fortune, to which he is still slyly adding to this day.

All this Bendel told me amid abundant tears, whereupon he wept again out of joy, this time to see me again, to have me there; having himself long despaired of establishing my whereabouts, wherever fate may have led me, he was happy to see me calmly and resolutely enduring my misfortune. For such was the expression that despair had carved in my face. I saw my misery, giant and immovable, towering before me; I had shed all my tears, not another moan could that spectre squeeze from my breast; bare-headed, I bore my sorrow with the coldness and equanimity of a man who has nothing left to lose.

‘Bendel,’ I said, ‘you know what lies in store for me. For the debts I amassed so blithely I must now pay a bitter interest. You are an innocent man, and must no longer bind your fate to mine; I cannot permit it. This very night will I ride off. Saddle my horse, for I ride alone; you must stay here, I insist. Surely there are still a few chests of gold lying about – they’re yours. I will henceforth follow my restless path alone; but should I ever again be graced with a glimmering of joy, and fortune smiles on me once more, then will I think of you again, for I wept on your breast in this, my heaviest, bitterest hour.’

With a broken heart, that faithful honest man had to do his master’s bidding this one last time, though his very soul shuddered at such a request. I turned a deaf ear to his pleading, I was blind to his tears, and he brought me the horse I asked for. One last time did I press his tear-filled face to my breast; then I swung myself up into the saddle and fled in the cloak of darkness from the grave of my life, little caring which direction my horse might choose; for I had no further destination on this earth, no wish, no hope.

VIII

A man on foot soon joined me. After he had walked a while beside my horse, he asked, seeing that we were headed in the same direction, if he might not rest his heavy coat on my horse’s rear flanks; I acceded without a word. He thanked me for the kindness, praised my horse, took the opportunity to laud the fortune and power of the rich, and so launched into a kind of conversation with himself for which I served as a mere listening ear.

He elaborated his views on life and matters of worldly consequence, and soon came to the subject of metaphysics, challenging himself to find the key to all mysteries. He expounded with great clarity, and hastened to venture a reply to himself: ‘You know, my friend, that though I once fancied myself a student of ideas, I have long acknowledged a lack of aptitude for philosophical speculation, and abandoned the field; since then I have let many matters rest, forsworn trying to know and understand everything, trusting instead, on your sound advice, my own instincts, the voice within, and have, in so far as I was able, followed my own path.’

So it seemed to me that this able and articulate rhetorician skilfully built a solid, self-sustaining argument supported by its own inner necessity. Yet to me it was altogether lacking in the very substance I would have liked to find, and thus I took it as a bit of mere artifice whose elegant closure and conclusiveness offered nothing but empty delight to the mind’s eye; but I was glad nonetheless to listen intently, for my eloquent companion took my mind off my own misery, and I would just as willingly have given way had he attempted to lay claim to my soul as to my reason.

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