Strange behaviour of strolling jugglers in a tavern, together with a tolerable buffeting.--Tragical history of a tailor at Sachsenhausen.--How George Pepusch astonished some honest folks.--The horoscope.--Pleasant battle of some well-known people in Leuwenhock's apartments.
All the passers-by stopt, stretched out their necks and peeped through the window into the coffee-room. With every moment the crowd grew greater, the pressure more violent, and the noise louder. All this was occasioned by two strangers, who, besides that their form, their dress, their whole manner had something extraordinary about it, that was repulsive and ridiculous at the same time, played off many wonderful tricks, such as had never been seen before. The one, an old man, of a dirty, disagreeable appearance, was dressed in a surtout of shining stuff. Sometimes he made himself thin and long, sometimes he would shrink himself up to a short fat fellow, winding about all the time like a worm. The other, with powdered hair, motly silk coat, under-dress of the same, large silver buckles, and altogether resembling a petit-maitre of the last half of the foregoing century, repeatedly flew up to the ceiling, and then gently let himself down again, while, with a cheerful voice, he trilled discordant songs in a language altogether unknown.
According to the host's declaration, they had both come in--one a short time after the other--like orderly people, and had called for wine. Then they had gazed more and more keenly on each other, and entered into conversation; and although the language of it was unintelligible to all the guests, yet their tone and manner showed they were engaged in a dispute, which grew warmer and warmer. On a sudden they had taken their present form and began these mad tricks, which continually attracted more spectators.
"The man, who flies up and down so admirably," exclaimed one of the spectators, "is the clock-maker, Degen, of Vienna--he who invented the flying machine, with which he is constantly contriving to tumble down upon his nose."
"No," replied another; "that is not the clock-maker. I should rather fancy that it was the Little Tailor of Sachsenhausen, if I did not know that the poor thing was burnt."
I know not whether my readers are acquainted with the Little Tailor of Sachsenhausen? Here it is.
History of the Little Tailor of Sachsenhausen.
It happened that a pious little tailor, at Sachsenhausen, was coming out of church one Sunday with his wife, in all his best attire. The air was raw, the little tailor had taken nothing over night but a soft boiled egg and a few pickled gerkins, and in the morning a cup of coffee. Moreover he had been singing most vehemently in the church, and hence he began to feel in a piteous plight, and to long for a dram. As he had worked hard through the week, and had been particularly kind to his better-half, making her a very pretty gown out of the pieces cabbaged from his customers, she consented to his going into the apothecary's and getting himself a dram, which he did accordingly. The awkward apprentice, who was alone in the shop, made a mistake, and took down a bottle which, instead of a dram, contained inflammable gas, wherewith balloons are filled. Of this the apprentice poured out a full glass, and the tailor, putting it at once to his mouth, swallowed off the gas as an agreeable reviver. It made him, however, feel very strangely,--as if he had got a pair of wings on his shoulders, or as if some one were playing at foot-ball with him; for he felt himself compelled to jump up and down in the shop, and with every moment the impetus increased.
"Eh! Gemini! Gemini!" he cried,--"what a nimble dancer I have grown!"
The apothecary's apprentice stood with his mouth gaping wide from pure wonder, when it chanced that some one opened the door so hastily, that the opposite window flew open also. A strong current of air poured in, caught up the little tailor, and away he sailed through the window, since when he has not been seen; but it happened some time after, that the people of Sachsenhausen observed in the air a fire-ball, which lighted the whole country with its brightness, and then, being extinguished, fell to earth. All were eager to know what had dropt, and ran to the place, but found nothing more than a little heap of ashes, but with this the tongue of a shoe-buckle, a little piece of yellow satin with flowers, and a something black, which, to look at, was like the horn-top of a walking stick. All were in deep council how such things could fall down from heaven in a fire-ball, when the wife of the departed tailor came up, and, on seeing these things, wrung her hands, took on most piteously, and cried out, "Ah, woe! that is my husband's buckle!--Ah, woe! that is my husband's Sunday waistcoat!--Ah, woe! that is my husband's cane-top!"--A very learned man, however, has declared that the cane-top was no cane-top, but a meteoric ball, or an abortive globe.
Thus was made known to the people of Sachsenhausen and to all the world, that the poor little tailor, to whom the apothecary's apprentice had given inflammable gas instead of a dram, was burnt in the air, and had fallen to earth, as a meteoric ball, or an abortive globe.
End of the History of the Little Tailor of Sadisenhausen.
* * * * *
The taverner was at length impatient that the odd guest did not cease making himself now larger now smaller, without paying him any attention, and held the flask of Burgundy, which he had ordered, close to his nose. The stranger caught fast hold of it immediately, and did not let go till he had drained the last drop: then he sank, as if fainting, into an armchair, and could scarcely move himself.
The guests observed with astonishment that he swelled more and more during the drinking, and now appeared quite thick and shapeless. The fly-work of the other seemed also to be at a stand; he was about to sit down, panting and breathless, but, perceiving how his adversary lay there, half dead, he flew suddenly upon him, and began to belabour him soundly with his fists. The host, however, pulled him off, and declared that he would turn him out of the house, if he did not keep quiet. If they both wished to show their juggler's tricks, they were welcome to do so, but without quarrelling and fighting like blackguards.
The flying gentleman seemed to take it somewhat ill that the host should suppose he was a juggler. He protested that he was nothing less than a vagabond, who went about playing off legerdemain tricks; he had formerly been ballet-master to a celebrated king, but now practised in private as an amateur, and was called, as his functions required he should be, Legénie. If, in his just indignation at the abominable fellow there, he had sprung somewhat higher than was fitting, that was his own business, and concerned no one else.
The host on his part opined, that all this did not justify any fisty-cuffs; to which the amateur replied, that mine host did not know the malicious fellow, or he would willingly allow his back to be drubbed black and blue. He had formerly been a French custom-house officer, and now gained a livelihood by blood-letting, cupping, and shaving, and was called Monsieur Leech, a nuisance to every body, by his awkwardness, stupidity, and gluttony. It was not enough that the scoundrel, wherever he met him, whisked away the wine from his very lips, as he had done just now, but he was plotting to carry off his bride, whom he intended to carry home from Frankfort.
The Douanier had heard all that the Amateur advanced, and, glancing at him with his little malicious eyes, said to the host, "Don't believe a syllable that the gallows-bird there is chattering. An admirable ballet-master, truly! who with his elephant feet crushes the legs of the fair dancers, and with his pirouette knocks a tooth out of the manager's jaw at the wing. And his verses, too! they have as awkward feet as himself, and tumble here and there, like drunkards, treading the thoughts to pap. Because he flutters heavily in the air at times, like a drowsy gander, the conceited peacock fancies he is to have the fair-one for his bride."
At this the indignant Amateur cried out, "thou, Satan's worm, thou shalt feel the gander's beak," and would have fallen upon the Douanier again, when the host seized him from behind, with strong arm, and, amidst the rejoicing of the assembled crowd, flung him out of the window.
No sooner was the Amateur gone than Monsieur Leech resumed the plain solid form, in which he had entered. The people, without, took him for quite another person than the juggler, who had played such strange tricks, and quietly dispersed. The Douanier thanked mine host in the most obliging terms for his aid against the Amateur, and, to prove his gratitude, offered to shave him for nothing, and more pleasantly than ever he had been shaved in his life before. The host felt his beard, and, it seeming to him at the moment as if the hairs were terribly long, he accepted Mr. Leech's offer, who accordingly set about it, at first, with a light, dexterous hand, but on a sudden he cut his nose so shrewdly, that the blood streamed down. The host, deeming this to be nothing else than malice, seized the Douanier, who flew as nimbly out of the door as the Amateur through the window. Immediately after there arose a loud tumult without, and, scarcely allowing himself time to stop the bleeding of his nose with lint, he flew out to see what devil was raising this new uproar. There, to his no little astonishment, he saw a young man, who with one hand grasped the Amateur, and with the other the Douanier, and with rolling eyes exclaimed, "Ha! Satan's brood! you shall not cross my way, you shall not rob me of Gamaheh!" while his prisoners intermixed their cries of, "A madman! Save--save us, host--he mistakes us--he will murder us--"
"Eh!" cried the host, "what are you about, my good Mr. Pepusch? Have you been offended by these strange people? Perhaps you are mistaken in them. This is the ballet-master, Monsieur Legénie, and this the Douanier, Monsieur Leech."
"Ballet-master Legénie! Douanier Leech!" repeated Pepusch, in a hollow voice.
He seemed as if waking out of a dream, and trying to recollect himself. In the mean time two honest citizens, of his acquaintance, came out of the inn, who joined in persuading him to be quiet, and let the fellows go about their business.
Again Pepusch exclaimed, "Ballet-master Legénie! Douanier Leech!" and let his arms drop powerless by his side. With the speed of wind, the released prisoners were off, and it seemed to many in the street as if the Amateur fled over the roofs of the neighbouring houses, and the barber was lost in the puddle that had collected itself between the stones before the door.
The two citizens invited the distracted Pepusch to come in and drink a glass of old hock with them, an offer which he readily accepted, and seemed to enjoy the generous wine, though he sate silent and abstracted, and answered not a word to all that could be said to him. At last, however, his features brightened up, and he said, very kindly, "You did well, my friends, in hindering me from killing, on the spot, those wretches, who were in my power. But you know not what dangerous creatures lurk beneath their masks."
Pepusch paused, and it may be easily supposed with what eagerness the citizens waited for what he had to discover. The host also had approached them, and all three poked their heads together, with their arms crossed upon the table, and held in their breath, that they might not lose a syllable from Peregrine's mouth.
"See, my good people," he continued solemnly, "see; he, whom you call the Balletmaster, Legénie, is no other than the evil, awkward genius, Thetel; the other, whom you take for the Douanier, Leech, is the hateful bloodsucker, the Leech-Prince. Both are in love with the Princess, Gamaheh, who, as you know, is the daughter of the mighty king, Sekakis, and are here to make her false to the Thistle, Zeherit. This is the greatest folly that ever entered into a foolish brain, for, besides the Thistle, Zeherit, there is but one person in the world to whom she can belong, and this person would perhaps vainly enter into the contest with Zeherit. For soon the Thistle will bloom at midnight in full splendour and strength, and in the death of love dawns the morning of a higher life. Now, I myself am the Thistle, Zeherit, and, therefore, my good friends, you cannot blame me if I am indignant with those traitors, and altogether take the whole affair much to heart."
The three listeners opened their eyes wide, and stared, speechlessly, at Pepusch, with open mouths. They had tumbled out of the clouds, as people say, and their heads were humming with the fall. But Pepusch emptied a bumper, and, turning to the host, said, "Yes, yes, mine host; you will soon see that I shall bloom as theCactus grandiflorus, and the whole country round will be impregnated with its perfume. You may believe me, friends."
The host could utter nothing but an exclamation of stupid surprise--"Eh! that would be the deuce!" The two citizens exchanged mysterious glances, and one, taking George's hand, said with a doubtful smile, "You seem to be somewhat disquieted, my good Mr. Pepusch; how, if you were to take a glass of water, and--"
"Not a drop!" exclaimed Peregrine, interrupting the well-meant counsel; "not a drop! Has water ever been poured upon boiling oil without increasing the fury of the flames?--I am disquieted, you say? In truth that may well be the case; how the devil can I be otherwise, after having exchanged shots with my bosom friend, and then sending a bullet through my own brain?--Here, into your hands I deliver up the murderous weapons, now that all is over."
Pepusch drew a brace of pistols from his pocket, whereat the host started back; the citizens snatched at them, but, no sooner had they fairly hold of them, than they burst out into immoderate laughter. The pistols were of wood, a plaything from the Christmas fair.
Pepusch seemed to pay no attention to what was going on about him; he sate in deep thought, and continually cried out, "If I could but find him! if I could but find him!"
The host took courage, and modestly asked, "Whom do you mean, my good Mr. Pepusch? Whom can you not find?"
"Know you," said Pepusch solemnly, and fixing the host with a keen gaze,--"know you any one to be compared, in might and wondrous power, with the king Sekakis; then name his name and I will kiss your feet. But for the rest, I would ask you if you know any one who is acquainted with Mr. Peregrine Tyss, and can tell me where I may meet him at this present moment?"
To this the host replied, smirking amiably, "Here I can serve you, respected Mr. Pepusch, and inform you, that he was with me an hour ago, taking a glass of wine. He was very thoughtful, and when I asked 'What news on 'Change?' he suddenly cried out, 'Yes, sweet Gamaheh! I have renounced you! Be happy in my George's arms!' Upon this a thin curious voice said, 'Let us now go to Leuwenhock's, and peep into the horoscope.' Immediately Mr. Tyss emptied his glass, and they went away together--that is, Mr. Tyss and the voice without a body. Probably they have gone to Leuwenhock's, who is lamenting that his well-disciplined fleas have, one and all, deserted him."
The words were scarcely out of the host's mouth than George started up in a fury, and, seizing him by the throat, cried out, "Scoundrel, what do you say? Renounced? renounced her?--Gamaheh!--Peregrine!--Sekakis!"
The host's story, however, was perfectly correct. He had heard Master Flea, who was summoning Peregrine, in his fine silver tones, to go to the microscopist, Leuwenhock, for what purpose the reader knows already. Peregrine had really gone thither, and was received by Leuwenhock with that soft odious friendliness, and that humility of compliment, which announce the burthensome and reluctant recognition of superiority. But, as Mr. Tyss had the microscopic glass in the pupil of his eye, all this complimenting and subservience availed Antony von Leuwenhock nothing in the world; on the contrary, Peregrine only the more discovered the hatred which filled the heart of the microscopist. While he protested how much he felt honoured and rejoiced by Mr. Tyss's visit, the thoughts ran thus:--"I wish that the devil had plunged you ten thousand fathoms deep in the abyss! But I must feign friendship and submission towards you, as the cursed constellation has placed me under your dominion, and my whole being in some sort depends upon you. But perhaps I may be able to outwit you, for, in spite of your high descent, you are a simple fool. You fancy that Dörtje Elverdink loves you, and will perhaps marry her. Only come to me about it, and you fall into my hands, in spite of the power that dwells within you without your knowing it, and I will employ every thing to ruin you, and gain possession of Dörtje and Master Flea."
Peregrine naturally regulated his conduct by these thoughts, and took good care not to say a syllable about Dörtje Elverdink, and pretended that he came to see Leuwenhock's collection of natural rarities.
While now Leuwenhock opened the great drawers, Master Flea whispered very gently in Peregine's ear, that his (Peregrine's) horoscope was lying on the table by the window. Here he saw all manner of lines, that mysteriously crossed each other, and many other wonderful signs; but as he was entirely deficient in astronomical knowledge, all remained confused and dark to him, look as keenly as he would. Yet it seemed strange to him, that, in the bright red point, in the middle of the table on which the horoscope was drawn, he plainly recognised himself. The longer he looked at this point, the more it gained the shape of a heart, and the more brightly it reddened. Still it only sparkled as through a web, with which it was overspread.
Peregrine plainly saw that Leuwenhock wanted to draw off his attention from the horoscope, and as he ran no risk of being deceived, very rationally resolved to question his friendly enemy at once, and without any circumlocution, as to the meaning of the mysterious table. Leuwenhock assured him, with a malicious smile, that nothing would give him greater pleasure than the explaining to his respected friend the signs upon the table, which he himself had drawn, according to his slight knowledge in such matters.
The thoughts ran thus:--"Hoho! are you after that, my wise sir? In truth Master Flea has not advised you ill. I myself am to explain the table, and help you to the understanding of the magic might that dwells in your worthy person! I might invent some lies for you, but of what use would it be, for, if I were to tell you the truth, you would not understand a syllable, but would remain stupid as ever? From pure convenience, therefore, and not to put myself to the trouble of invention, I will tell you so much of the signs of the table as seems good to me."
Peregrine knew now that, if he was not to learn all, at least he would not be deceived with falsehoods.
Leuwenhock placed the tablet on something like an easel, which he brought forward from a corner of the room, and both seating themselves before it, considered it for a time in silence. At length Leuwenhock began with much solemnity:
"You, perhaps, do not suspect that those lines, those characters on the table, which you are so attentively considering, are your own horoscope, drawn by myself, with mysterious astrologic art, under the favourable influence of the stars.--How came you to such a presumptuous idea? what could make you wish to unravel the web of my fate, to read my destiny?--so might you ask, my friend, and with perfect justice, if I were not able to show you my inward call thereto. I know not whether you have heard of the celebrated rabbi, Isaac Ben Harravad. Among other profound knowledge, he had the strange gift of reading by men's faces whether the soul had previously inhabited another body, or whether it was to be considered quite fresh and new. I was yet very young when the rabbi died of an indigestion, brought on by eating of a dish highly seasoned with garlic. The Jews ran away with the body so quickly, that the deceased had not time to collect and carry off all his knowledge, which the illness had scattered. Laughing heirs divided the property, but I had fished off that wonderful seer-gift, in the very moment that the Angel of Death had set his sword upon the rabbi's breast. In this way the wonderful faculty has come to me, and I, like the rabbi, Isaac Ben Harravad, can read in the faces of men, whether the soul has before occupied another body or not. Your brow, Mr. Tyss, when I saw it the first time, excited the strangest thoughts and doubts. I was certain of the previous existence of your soul long ago, and yet the form, prior to your present life, remained a perfect mystery. I was forced to have recourse to the stars, and draw your horoscope, to solve the difficulty."
"Well!" exclaimed Peregrine;--"and have you discovered anything, Mr. Leuwenhock?"
"Certainly!" replied Leuwenhock, assuming a still more solemn tone--"certainly! I have discovered that the physical principle, which now animates the agreeable body of my very worthy friend, Mr. Peregrine Tyss, existed long ago, although only as a thought or consciousness of a shape. Look here; consider attentively the red point in the centre of the table. That is not only yourself, but the point is the form, of which your physical principle once could not be conscious. As a sparkling carbuncle, you then lay in a deep mine of the earth; but stretched over you, on the green surface of the ground, slept the beautiful Gamaheh; and her form also passed away in unconsciousness. Strange lines and foreign constellations cross your life from the point of time when the thought first put on a form, and became Mr. Peregrine Tyss. You are in possession of a talisman without knowing it, and this talisman is that very red carbuncle; it may be that King Sekakis wore it as a precious jewel in his crown, or, perhaps, in some measure, was the carbuncle itself; enough,--you possess it now; but a certain event must take place if its slumbering power is to be awakened; and with this waking of the power of your talisman will be decided the fate of an unhappy creature, who hitherto has led a shadowy life between fear and changing hope.--Alas! it was only a shadowy life that the sweet Gamaheh could gain by the profoundest magic, as the operative talisman was stolen from us. You alone have killed her, you alone can breathe fresh life into her, when the carbuncle glows again in your breast."
"And can you," interrupted Peregrine, "can you explain what that event is which is to awake the power of the talisman?"
The microscopist stared with open eyes at Peregrine, like a person who is suddenly surprised into confusion, and who does not know what to say. The thoughts ran thus: "If I had but held my tongue about the talisman which the unlucky rascal carries within him, and which gives him so much power over us that we must all dance to his pipe!--and now I am to tell him the event on which depends the awaking the strength of his talisman! Shall I confess to him that I don't know myself, that all my art fails to loosen the knot in which the lines meet?--nay, that when I consider the planetary centre of the horoscope, I feel most piteously, and my own learned head seems to me no better than a painted block for periwigs? Far from me be any such confession that would lower me, and put arms into his hands against myself. I will fasten something upon the ideot who fancies himself so wise,--something that shall make his blood run cold, and take from him all farther inclination of teazing me."
"My dearest sir," said the Flea-tamer, putting on a very important face,--"my dearest Mr. Tyss, don't ask me to speak of this event. You know that the horoscope does indeed plainly and perfectly instruct us as to the existence of certain circumstances; but,--such is the wisdom of Eternal Might,--the event of threatening dangers always remains dark and doubtful. I esteem you too highly as an excellent kind-hearted man to put you into disquiet and anxiety before the time; otherwise I should at least tell you so much, that the event which is to give you the consciousness of power, would in the same moment destroy your present form of being with the most horrible agonies of hell. But no! on that too I will be silent; and now not another word of the horoscope. Do not, however, fret yourself, although the affair looks bad enough, and I, with all my knowledge, can hardly see any chance of a favourable issue to the adventure. Perhaps you may be saved from this peril by some unexpected constellation, which is now beyond the reach of observation."
Peregrine was astonished at this deceit, yet still the whole state of the thing, the peculiar situation in which Leuwenhock stood without suspecting it, appeared to him so exceedingly pleasant, that he could not help breaking out into a loud fit of laughter. The microscopist, somewhat surprised at this, asked, "What are you laughing at so vehemently, my dear Mr. Tyss?"
"You do wisely," replied Peregrine, still laughing,--"you do very wisely in keeping secret, out of pure kindness, this threatening event; for besides that you are too much my friend to put me into fear and terror, you have yet another excellent reason for your silence, which is nothing else than that you do not know a syllable about the matter. In vain was all your labour to unriddle that knot; your whole astrology goes but to little; and, if Master Flea had not fallen upon your nose, all your arts would have helped you little."
Leuwenhock's brow was red with rage; he clenched his fist, gnashed his teeth, and trembled so violently with agitation, that he would have tumbled from his seat, if Peregrine had not held him as firmly by the arm as George Pepusch grasped the unlucky taverner by the throat, who at length succeeded in saving himself by a dexterous side-spring. Hereupon George rushed out and entered Leuwenhock's room just as Peregrine was holding him fast upon his seat, while he muttered furiously between his teeth, "Cursed Swammerdamm! is ityouthat have done this?"
No sooner did Peregrine perceive his friend than he let go of the microscopist, and, going up to him, asked anxiously if that strange frenzy were over which had so dangerously possessed him. Pepusch seemed softened almost to tears, and protested that he had not in all his life committed so many follies as in the course of that one day. Amongst these not the least was, that after he had sent a ball through his head in the forest, he had gone into a tavern,--where he did not know,--had talked to people of strange things, and murderously set upon the host, because, from his broken speech, he gathered that which was the very happiest thing that could befall him. All his paroxysms would now soon have reached the highest pitch, for the bystanders had taken his words for insanity, and he had to fear, instead of reaping the fruit of the happiest event, that he would be confined in a madhouse. With this he explained what the host had let drop concerning Peregrine's conduct and declarations, and asked, with downcast eyes, whether such an act of self-denial, in favour of an unhappy friend, was probable, or even possible, in the present day, when heroism had vanished from the earth.
At these declarations from his companion, Peregrine revived in his inmost heart. He protested with warmth, that for his part he was far removed from doing any thing that might in the least annoy his tried friend; that he solemnly renounced all pretensions to the heart and hand of the fair Dörtje Elverdink, and willingly gave up a paradise, though it had, indeed, opened upon him most seductively.
"And it was you," said Pepusch, rushing into his friend's arms,--"it was you that I would have murdered, and, because I did not believe you, I therefore shot myself. Oh, the madness of a mind ill at ease!"
"I pray you," said Peregrine, "I pray you come to your senses. You speak of having shot yourself, and yet stand fresh and sound before me. How do these things agree?"
"You are right," replied Pepusch, "it seems as if I could not speak to you so rationally as I really do, if I had actually sent a ball through my brain. The people, too, maintain that my pistols were not particularly dangerous, nor, indeed, of iron, but of wood--in fact mere toys--and so neither the duel nor the suicide could have been any thing more than a pleasant mockery. We must have changed our parts; and I have begun to mystify myself and play the child at the moment you have left the world of dream to enter into real life. But be this as it may, it is requisite that I should be certain of your generosity and my fortune, and then the clouds will dissipate which trouble my sight, or perhaps deceive me with the illusions of theFata Morgana. Come, my Peregrine, accompany me to the fair Dörtje Elverdink."
Pepusch took his friend's arm, and was hastening off with him; but their intended walk was spared, for the door opened, and in tripped Dörtje Elverdink, lovely as an angel, and behind her the old Swammer. Leuwenhock, who had so long remained dumb, casting angry looks first at Pepusch and then at Peregrine, seemed, upon seeing the old Swammerdamm, as if struck by an electric shock. He stretched his clenched hands towards him, and cried out in a voice hoarse with rage--"Ha! do you come to mock me, you old deceitful monster? But you shall not succeed. Defend yourself: your last hour has struck."
Swammerdamm started a few steps back, and as Leuwenhock was ready to fall upon him with his telescope, drew the like arms for his defence. The duel, which had begun at Peregrine's, seemed about to be renewed. George Pepusch threw himself between the combatants, and while with his left hand he beat down a murderous glance of Leuwenhock's, which would have stretched his adversary to the earth, with the left he turned aside the weapon of Swammerdamm, so that he could not injure Leuwenhock. He then declared that he would not allow of any battle between them, till he thoroughly knew the cause of their dissension. Peregrine found this protest so reasonable, that he did not hesitate to throw himself between the champions with a similar declaration. To this the combatants were forced to yield. Swammerdamm, moreover, asserted, that he had not at all come with hostile intentions, but merely to enter into some composition with Leuwenhock, and thus to end a feud which had so long divided two similarly-created principles, whose united researches only could exhaust the deepest springs of knowledge. With this he looked smilingly at Peregrine, into whose arms Dörtje had fled, and expressed a wish that he would mediate.
Leuwenhock, on the other hand, admitted that Dörtje was, indeed, the apple of contention, but that he had just now discovered a new trick of his unworthy colleague. It was not only that, to revive his unjust pretensions to Dörtje, he denied the possession of a certain microscope which he had received on a certain occasion as a quittance; but the more to torment him,--Leuwenhock,--he had given it to another. In answer to all this, Swammerdamm swore, high and low, that he had never received the microscope, and had great reason to believe that Leuwenhock had shamefully purloined it.
"The fools!"--softly whispered Master Flea to Peregrine--"the fools! they are talking of the microscope which is in your eye. You know that I was present at the treaty of peace concluded between them about the possession of the princess, and, when Swammerdamm was flinging into the pupil of his left eye the microscopic glass which he had, in fact, received from Leuwenhock, I snapped it up, because it was not Leuwenhock's, but my lawful property. Tell them plainly at once, that you have the jewel."
Upon this Peregrine made no hesitation in declaring that he was in possession of the microscopic glass which Swammerdamm should have received, but did not receive, from Leuwenhock; and moreover that the union was not yet settled, and neither Leuwenhock nor Swammerdamm had at present the unconditional right to look on Dörtje Elverdink as his foster-daughter.
After much argument, it was agreed by the disputants that Mr. Tyss should marry Dörtje Elverdink, who tenderly loved him; and then, after seven months, should decide which of the two microscopists was the most desirable father-in-law.
However beautiful Dörtje appeared in a dress so admirable that it might seem to have been fashioned by the Loves, and whatever burning looks of passion she might cast at Peregrine, yet he still thought of his protegé as well as of his friend, and remained true to his plighted word, declaring again that he renounced Dörtje's hand. The microscopists were not a little astonished, when Peregrine announced George Pepusch for the man who had the justest claims to the princess, and that he, at all events, had no right to interfere with her choice.
With tears in her eyes the maiden staggered towards Peregrine, who caught her in his arms as she was sinking senseless to the earth. "Ingrate!"--she sighed--"you break my heart in thrusting me from you.--But you will have it.--Take, then, my parting kiss, and let me die!"
Peregrine bent down to her, but when his mouth touched her mouth, she bit his lips so violently that the blood started, at the same time exclaiming merrily,--"Monster! it is so one must punish you!--Be reasonable, be civil, and take me, let the other cry out as he will."
During this the two microscopists had fallen together by the ears again, heaven knows wherefore; while George Pepusch flung himself quite disconsolately at Gamaheh's feet, and cried out in a voice that sounded wretched enough for any lover,--
"Oh, Gamaheh! is then your passion quite extinguished? Do you no more remember the glorious times in Famagusta?--no more the pleasant days in Berlin?--no more----"
"You are a fool!" interrupted the little-one, laughing; "you are a fool, George, with your Gamahehs, your Thistle, Zeherit, and all the other nonsense that you must once have dreamed. I did like you, do like you, and will have you,--although the tall one yonder pleases me better,--if you solemnly promise, nay swear, to bend all your mind to----"
Here she softly whispered something to Pepusch, and Peregrine thought he collected that Master Flea was the subject of it. In the meantime the dispute between the microscopists had grown hotter and hotter; they had again recourse to their weapons, and Peregrine was busy in trying to sooth their wrath, when the company was again augmented. The door was burst open amidst a strange screaming and croaking, and in rushed the Amateur, Monsieur Legénie, and the barber, Leech. With wild, furious gestures they flew upon the princess, and the barber had already caught her by the shoulder, when Pepusch thrust away the odious assailant with irresistible might, wound about his whole flexible body, and squeezed it together in such a manner that he shot up into the air, quite thin and long, roaring aloud with pain all the time.
While this was going on with the barber, the two microscopists had reconciled themselves in an instant on the appearance of the common enemy, and made a united attack on the Amateur with much success. It availed him nothing that, when he was sufficiently drubbed below, he rose up to the cieling; for Leuwenhock and Swammerdamm had both seized short thick sticks, and whenever the Amateur descended, they drove him up again by blows, dexterously applied to that part of the body which best can bear them. It was a pretty game of racket, at which the Amateur, by compulsion indeed, played the most fatiguing, and at the same time the most ungracious part, namely, that of the ball.
This war seemed to inspire the little-one with the greatest terror; she clung to Peregrine, and entreated him to bear her away from such an abominable uproar. This he could the less refuse, as there seemed to be no need of him on the field of battle; and he therefore carried her home, that is, into the apartments of his lodger. But no sooner had she got there and found herself alone with Peregrine, than she employed all the arts of the most refined coquetry to allure him into her snares. However firmly he bore in mind that all this was merely falsehood, and aimed at bringing his protegé into captivity, yet such a dizziness of the senses seized him, that he did not even think of the microscopic glass, which might have served him as an active antidote. Master Flea was again in danger; he was, however, saved this time by Mr. Swammer, who entered with George Pepusch. The former appeared to be exceedingly delighted, but the latter had wrath and jealousy in his burning glances. Peregrine left the room, and with wounded heart he strolled through the streets of Frankfort. He went through the gate and onwards, till he reached the very spot where the strange adventure had happened with his friend, Pepusch. Here he again thought over his wonderful destiny; the image of Gamaheh appeared to him lovelier than ever; the blood rolled more quickly in his veins, his pulse beat more violently, and his breast seemed ready to burst with feverish desire. He felt only too painfully the greatness of the sacrifice which he had just made, and with which he fancied that he had lost all the happiness of life.
The night had drawn in when he returned to the city. Without being aware of it, perhaps from an unconscious dread of going back to his own house, he wandered through many by lanes, and at last into the Kalbecher-street. A man, with a knapsack on his back, asked him if the bookbinder, Lemmerhirt, did not live there? and on looking up, Peregrine saw that he was actually standing before the narrow dwelling; the windows of the industrious binder, who worked through the night, were shining brightly and loftily, and the door was opened to the man with a knapsack, who entered immediately.
Peregrine now recollected, with vexation, that, in the tumult of the last few weeks, he had forgotten to pay the bookbinder for several jobs that he had executed for him; he resolved to go and settle all the very next morning.
Hostile snares of the allied Microscopists, and their continued stupidity.--New temptations of Mr. Peregrine Tyss, and new perils of Master Flea.--Rose Lemmerhirt.--The decisive dream, and conclusion of the tale.
Although we are wholly deficient in any certain information respecting the result of the battle in Leuwenhock's chamber, yet we cannot suppose otherwise than that the microscopists, with the help of George Pepusch, had obtained a complete victory over the hostile confederates: it had else been impossible that the old Swammer had returned so friendly and contented as he really did. With the same glad face, Swammer, or rather Mr. John Swammerdamm, came the following morning to Peregrine, who was still in bed and earnestly conversing with his protegé, Master Flea. Upon seeing this visitor, Peregrine did not fail putting the microscopic glass into the pupil of his eye.
After many long and tedious excuses for his early visit, Swammerdamm at last took his place on the bed, positively refusing to let Peregrine rise and put on his dressing-gown. In the strangest phrases he thanked his landlord for the great civilities he had experienced, which, it seems, consisted in his having been received as a lodger, and also in that Mr. Tyss had allowed his household to be increased by the addition of a young female, who was sometimes too loud and vivacious. But the greatest favour shown by Mr. Peregrine, and not without some self-sacrifice, was in his having effected a reconciliation between him (Swammerdamm) and his old friend, Antony von Leuwenhock.--In fact, as Swammerdamm went on to say, both hearts had inclined to each other at the moment when they were attacked by the Amateur and the barber and had to protect Dörtje Elverdink from those monsters. The serious reconciliation of the microscopists had soon after followed.
Leuwenhock had perceived, as well as Swammerdamm, the paramount influence which Peregrine had over both of them; and the first use, which they made of their renewed friendship, was, to consider in unison the strange horoscope of Mr. Tyss, and, as far as possible, to interpret it.
"What my friend, Leuwenhock, could not do alone," continued the microscopist, "was effected by our united powers, and thus this was the second experiment which, in spite of all the obstacles opposed to us, we undertook with the most splendid results."
"The short-sighted fool!" lisped Master Flea, who sate upon the pillow, close to Peregrine's ear. "He still fancies that the Princess, Gamaheh, was restored to life by him. A pretty life, indeed, is that, to which the awkwardness of the two microscopists has condemned the poor thing!"
"My dear friend," continued Swammerdamm, who had the less heard Master Flea, as he had just then begun to sneeze loudly, "my dear friend, you are particularly chosen by the spirit of the creation, a pet-child of nature, for you possess the most wonderful talisman, or, to speak more correctly and scientifically, the most splendid Tsilmenaja, or Tilsemoht, that was ever fed by the dew of heaven, and has sprung from the lap of earth. It is an honour to my art that I, and not Leuwenhock, have discovered that this lucky talisman sleeps for a time till a certain constellation enters, which finds its centre-point in your worthy person. With yourself, my dear friend, something must, and will, happen, which in the moment the power of the talisman awakes, may make that waking known to you. Let Leuwenhock have told you what he will, it must all be false; for, in regard to that point, he knew nothing at all, until I opened his eyes. Perhaps he tried to frighten you, my dear friend, with some terrible catastrophe, for I know he likes to terrify people without reason.--But trust to me, Mr. Tyss, who have the highest respect for you, and swear it to you most solemnly, you have nothing to fear. I should like, however, to learn, whether you do not as yet feel the presence of the talisman, and what you think of the matter altogether."
At these last words Swammerdamm eyed his host as keenly as if he would pierce his deepest thoughts; but of course he did not succeed so well in that as Peregrine with his microscopic glass, by means of which the latter learnt that it was not so much the united war with the Amateur and the Barber, as the mysterious horoscope, that had brought about the reconciliation of the microscopists. It was the possession of the mighty talisman that both were striving after. In regard to the mysterious lines in the horoscope of Peregrine, Swammerdamm remained in as vexatious ignorance as Leuwenhock; but he fancied the clue must lie within Peregrine, which would lead to the discovery of the mystery. This clue he now sought to fish out of the novice, and then rob him of the inestimable treasure before he knew its value. He was convinced this talisman was equal to that of the wise Solomon, since, like that, it gave him who possessed it the perfect dominion over the kingdom of spirits.
Peregrine paid like with like, himself mystifying Swammerdamm, who thought to mystify him. He contrived to answer so dexterously, in such figurative speeches, that the microscopist feared the initiation had already begun, and that soon the mystery would be revealed which neither he nor Leuwenhock had been able to unravel.
Swammerdamm cast down his eyes, hemmed, and stammered a few unintelligible words; he was really in a bad plight, and his thoughts were all in confusion.
"The devil! What's this? Is this Peregrine, who speaks to me? Am I the learned Swammerdamm or an ass?"
In despair he at last collected himself, and began,
"But to come to something else, most respected Mr. Tyss, and, as it seems to me, something much more agreeable."--
According to what Swammer now went on to say, both he and Leuwenhock had perceived, with great pleasure, the strong inclination which Dörtje Elverdink had conceived for him. If they had both formerly been of a different opinion, each believing that Dörtje should stay with himself, and not think of love and marriage, yet they had now both come to a better conviction. They fancied that they read in Peregrine's horoscope, he positively must take Dörtje Elverdink for his wife, as the greatest advantage in all the conjunctures of his life, and, as neither doubted for a moment that he was equally enamoured of her, they had looked upon the matter as fully settled. Swammerdamm, moreover, was of opinion that Peregrine was the only one who, without any trouble, could beat his rivals out of the field; and that the most dangerous opponents, namely, the Amateur and the Barber, could avail nothing against him.
Peregrine found, from Swammerdamm's thoughts, that both the microscopists actually imagined they had read in his horoscope the inevitable necessity of his marriage with Dörtje. It was to this supposed necessity only they yielded, thinking to draw the greatest gain from the apparent loss of the little-one, namely, by getting possession of Mr. Tyss and his talisman. But it may be easily supposed how little faith he must have in the science of the two microscopists, when neither of them was able to solve the centre-point of the horoscope. He did not, therefore, at all yield to that pretended conjunction, which conditioned the necessity of his marriage with Gamaheh, and found no difficulty whatever in declaring positively, that he renounced her hand in favour of his best friend, George Pepusch, who had older and better claims to the fair one, and that he would not break his word upon any condition.
Swammerdamm raised his green eyes, which he had so long cast down, stared vehemently at Peregrine, and grinned with the cunning of a fox, as he said, if the friendship between him and Pepusch were the only scruple which kept him from giving free scope to his feelings, this obstacle existed no longer: Pepusch had perceived, although slightly touched with madness, his marriage with Dörtje was against the stars, and nothing could come from it but misery and destruction. He had therefore resigned all his pretensions, declaring only that, with his life, he would protect Gamaheh,--who could belong to no one but his bosom-friend, Tyss,--against the awkward dolt of an Amateur and the bloodthirsty Barber.
A cold shudder ran through Peregrine, when he perceived, from Swammerdamm's thoughts, that all was true which he had spoken. Overpowered by the strangest and the most opposite feelings, he sank back upon his pillow and closed his eyes. The microscopist pressed him to come down himself, and hear from Dörtje's mouth, from George's, the present state of things, and then took his leave with as much ceremony as he had entered.
Master Flea, who sate the whole time quietly on the pillow, suddenly leaped up to the top of Peregrine's nightcap. There he raised himself up on his long hind-legs, wrung his hands, stretched them imploringly to Heaven, and cried out in a voice half stifled with tears,
"Woe to poor me! I already thought myself safe, and now comes the most dangerous trial. What avail me the courage, the constancy of my noble patron?--I surrender myself! All is over."
"Why," said Mr. Tyss, in a faint voice--"why do you lament so on my nightcap, my dear master? Do you fancy that you alone have to complain? that I myself am not in the unhappiest situation in the world? for my whole mind seems broken up, and I neither know what to do, nor which way to turn my thoughts. But do not fancy, my dear master, I am foolish enough to venture near the rock upon which all my resolutions might be shipwrecked. I shall take care not to follow Swammerdamm's invitation, and to avoid seeing the alluring Dörtje Elverdink."
"In reality," said Master Flea, after he had taken his old post, upon the pillow, by Peregrine's ear,--"in reality I am not sure that I ought not to advise you to go at once to Swammerdamm's, however destructive it may appear to myself. It seems to me as if all the lines of your horoscope were running quicker and quicker together, and you yourself were upon the point of entering the red centre.--Well, let the dark destiny have decreed what it will, I plainly perceive even a Master Flea cannot escape such a conclusion, and it is as simple as useless to expect my safety from you. Go then, take her hand, deliver me to slavery, and, that all may happen as the stars will it, without any interference, make no use of the microscopic glass."
"Formerly," said Peregrine,--"formerly, Master Flea, your heart seemed stout, your mind firm, and now you have grown so fainthearted!--You may be as wise as you will, but you have no good idea of human resolution, and, at all events, rate it too meanly.--Once more--I will not break my word to you, and that you may perceive how fixed my determination is, of not seeing the little-one again, I will now rise and betake myself, as I did yesterday, to the bookbinder's."
"Oh Peregrine!" cried Master Flea, "the will of man is a frail thing; a passing air will break it. How immense is the abyss lying between what man wills and what really happens! Many a life is only a constantwilling, and many a one, from pure volition, at last does not know what he will. Youwillnot see Dörtje Elverdink, and yet who will answer for it that you do not see her in the very moment of your declaring such a resolution?"
Strange enough, the very thing really happened which Master Flea had prophesied.
Peregrine arose, dressed himself, and, faithful to his intention, would have gone to the bookbinder. In passing Swammerdamm's chamber, the door was wide open, and,--he knew not how it happened,--he stood, leaning on Swammerdamm's arm, close before Dörtje Elverdink, who sent him a hundred kisses, and with her silver voice cried out, joyfully, "Good morning, my dear Peregrine!"--George Pepusch, too, was there, looking out of the window and whistling. He now flung the window to with violence, and turned round.
"Ha!" he exclaimed as if he had just then seen Peregrine--"ha! look! You come to see your bride. That's all in order, and any third person would only be in the way. I too will take myself off; but let me first tell you, my good friend, Peregrine, that George Pepusch scorns every gift which a compassionate friend would fling to him as if he were a beggar. Cursed be every sacrifice! I will have nothing to thank you for. Take the beautiful Gamaheh, who so warmly loves you; but take care the Thistle, Zeherit, do not take root, and burst the walls of your house."
George's voice and manner bordered upon brutality; and Peregrine was filled with vexation, when he saw how much his whole conduct was mistaken. Without concealing his disgust, he said,
"It never has entered into my head to cross you in your path, but the madness of jealousy speaks out of you, or you would see how innocent I am of all you have been brooding in your own soul. Do not ask of me to kill the snake, which you have been nourishing in your breast for your own torment; learn too, I gaveyouno alms, I madeyouno sacrifice, in giving up the fair-one, and with her, perhaps, the greatest blessing of my life. Other and higher duties, an irrevocable promise, compelled me to it."
Pepusch, in the wildest wrath, raised his clenched hand against his friend, when Gamaheh sprang between them, and, catching Peregrine's arm, exclaimed,
"Let the foolish Thistle go; he has nothing but nonsense in his brain, and, as is the way with thistles, is surly and obstinate without well knowing what he means. You are mine, and remain mine,--mine own dearest Peregrine."
Thus saying, the little-one drew Peregrine upon the sofa, and, without farther ceremony, seated herself upon his knees. Pepusch, after having sufficiently gnawed his nails, ran wildly out of the door.
Dressed again in the fairy dress of tissue, she appeared as lovely as ever. Peregrine felt himself streamed through by the electric warmth of her body, and yet, amidst it all, a cold mysterious shudder thrilled through him like the breathing of death. For the first time he thought that he saw something singular and lifeless deeply seated in her eyes, while the tone of her voice, nay even the rustling of her dress, betrayed a strange being, who was never to be trusted. It fell heavily upon his heart, that, when she had spoken her real thoughts, she had been in this same silver tissue; he knew not why he should fancy any thing menacing in it, and yet the idea of this dress was intimately blended with that of the supernatural, as a dream unites the most heterogeneous things, and all passes for absurd, the deeper connexion of which we are unable to comprehend.
Far from wounding the fair-one with a suspicion which was perhaps false, Peregrine violently suppressed his feelings, and only waited for a favourable opportunity of freeing himself and escaping from the snake of Paradise. At last Dörtje said,
"How is it, my sweet friend, you seem so cold and insensible to-day? What have you got in your head, my life?"
"I have a headache," replied Peregrine, as indifferently as he was able.--"Headache!--whims!--megrims!--nothing else, my sweet child. I must go into the open air, and all will be over in a few minutes. Besides, I am called away by a particular business."
"It is all invention!" exclaimed Gamaheh, starting up hastily.--"But you are a malicious monkey, that must be tamed."
Peregrine was glad when he found himself in the open street; but as to Master Flea, he was quite extravagant in his joy, tittering and laughing incessantly in Peregrine's neckcloth, and clapping together his fore-paws till they rang again. This merriment of his little protegé was somewhat troublesome to Mr. Tyss, as it disturbed him in his meditations, and he begged of him to be quiet, for many grave people had already glanced at him with looks of reproach, fancying it was he who tittered and laughed, and played such foolish pranks in the open streets.
"Fool that I was!" exclaimed Master Flea, persisting in the ebullitions of his extravagant joy--"Fool that I was to doubt of the victory where no battle was needed. Why, you had conquered in the moment, when even the death of your beloved could not shake your resolution. Let me shout, let me rejoice, for all must deceive me, if a bright morning-sun do not soon arise, which will clear up every mystery."
On Peregrine's knocking at the bookbinder's, a soft female voice cried, "Come in!"--He opened the door, and a young girl, who was alone in the room, came forward, and asked him in a friendly manner what he wanted. She was about eighteen years old, rather tall than short, and slim, with the finest proportions. Her hair was of a bright chestnut colour, her eyes were of a deep blue, and her skin seemed to be a blended web of lilies and roses. But more than all this were the purity and innocence that sate upon her brow, and showed themselves in all her actions.
When Peregrine gazed on the gentle beauty, it seemed to him as if he had been hitherto lying in bonds, which a benevolent power had loosened, and the angel of light stood before him. But his enamoured gaze had confounded the maiden: she blushed deeply, and, casting down her eyes, repeated more gently than at first, "What does the gentleman want?" With difficulty Peregrine stammered out, "Pray, does the bookbinder Lemmerhirt live here?" Upon her replying that he did, but that he was now gone out upon business, Peregrine talked confusedly of bindings which he had ordered, of books which Lemmerhirt was to procure for him, till at last he came somewhat more to himself, and spoke of a splendid copy of Ariosto, which was to have been bound in red morocco with golden filleting. At this, it was as if a sudden electric spark had shot through the maiden; she clasped her hands, and, with tears in her eyes, exclaimed, "Then you are Mr. Tyss?" At the same time she made a motion as if she would have seized his hand, but suddenly drew back, and a deep sigh seemed to relieve her full breast. A sweet smile beamed on her face, like the lovely glow of morning, and she poured forth thanks and blessings to Peregrine for his having been the benefactor of her father and mother, and not only for this,--no--for his generosity, his kindness, the manner of his making presents to the children, and spreading joy and happiness amongst them. She quickly cleared her father's arm-chair of the books, bound and unbound, with which it was loaded, wheeled it forward, and pressed him to be seated, and then presented to him the splendid Ariosto with sparkling eyes, well knowing that this masterpiece of bookbinding would meet with Peregrine's approbation.
Mr. Tyss took a few pieces of gold from his pocket, which, the maiden seeing, hastily assured him that she did not know the price of the work, and, therefore, could not take any payment; perhaps he would be pleased to wait a few minutes for her father's return. It seemed to Peregrine as if the unworthy metal melted into one lump in his hand, and he pocketed the gold again, much faster than he had brought it out. Upon his seating himself mechanically in the broad arm-chair, the maiden reached after her own seat, and from instinctive politeness he jumped up to fetch it, when, instead of the chair, he caught hold of her hand, and, on gently pressing the treasure, he thought he felt a scarcely perceptible return.
"Puss, puss, what are you doing?" suddenly cried Rose, breaking from him, and picking up a skein of thread, which the cat held between her fore-paws, beginning a most mystical web.
Peregrine was in a perfect tumult, and the words "Oh, princess!" escaped him without his knowing how it happened. The maiden looked at him in alarm, and he cried out in the softest and most melancholy tone, "My dearest young lady!" Rose blushed, and said with maiden bashfulness, "My parents call me Rose; pray, do the same, my dear Mr. Tyss, for I too am one of the children, to whom you have shown so much kindness, and by whom you are so highly honoured."
"Rose!" cried Peregrine, in a transport. He could have thrown himself at her feet, and it was only with difficulty that he restrained himself.
Rose now related--as she quietly went on with her work--how the war had reduced her parents to distress, and how since that time she had lived with an aunt in a neighbouring village, till a few weeks ago, when upon the death of the old lady, she had returned home.
Peregrine heard only the sweet voice of Rose, without understanding the words too well, and was not perfectly convinced of his being awake, till Lemmerhirt entered the room, and gave him a hearty welcome. Soon after the wife followed with the children, and as thoughts and feelings are strangely blended in the mind of man, it happened now that Peregrine, even in the midst of all his ecstasy, suddenly recollected how the sullen Pepusch had blamed his presents to this very family. He was particularly delighted to find that none of the children had made themselves ill by his gifts, and the pride with which they pointed to a glass case, where the toys were shining, proved that they looked upon them as something extraordinary, never perhaps to recur. The Thistle, in his ill-humour, was quite mistaken.
"Oh, Pepusch!" said Peregrine to himself, "no pure beam of love penetrates thy distempered mind."--In this Peregrine again meant something more than toys and sugar-plums.
Lemmerhirt approached Peregrine, and began to talk in an under-tone of his Rose, elevating her, in the fulness of his heart, into a perfect miracle. But what gave him the most delight was, that Rose had an inclination for the noble art of bookbinding, and in the few weeks that she had been with him had made uncommon advances in the decorative parts, so that she was already much more dexterous than many an oaf of an apprentice, who wasted gold and morocco for years, and set the letters all awry, making them look like so many drunken peasants, staggering out of an ale-house. In the exuberance of his delight, he whispered to Peregrine quite confidentially, "It must out, Mr. Tyss, I can't help it.--Do you know, that it was my Rose who gilded the Ariosto?"
Upon hearing this, Peregrine hastily snatched up the book, as if securing it before he was robbed of it by an enemy. Lemmerhirt took this for a sign that Peregrine wished to go, and begged of him to stay a few minutes longer, and this it was that reminded him at last of the necessity of tearing himself away. He hastily paid his bill, and set off home, dragging along the heavy quartos, as if they had been some treasure.
On entering his house he was met by the old Alina, who pointed to Swammerdamm's chamber with looks of fear and anxiety. The door was open, and he saw Dörtje Elverdink, sitting in an arm-chair, quite stiff, with a face drawn up, as if it belonged to a corpse, already laid in the grave. Just so stiff, so corpse-like sate before her Pepusch, Swammerdamm, and Leuwenhock. The old woman exclaimed, "Is not that a strange, ghastly spectacle? In this manner the three unhappy beings have sate the whole day long, and eat nothing, and drink nothing, and speak nothing, and scarcely fetch their breath."
Peregrine at first felt a slight degree of terror at this strange spectacle, but, as he ascended the stairs, the spectral image was completely swallowed up by the sea of pleasure, in which the delighted Peregrine swam, since his seeing Rose. Wishes, dreams, hopes, were agitating his mind, which he longed to unburthen to some friend; but what friend had Peregrine besides the honest Master Flea? And to him he wished to open his whole heart, to tell him all about Rose,--all in fact that cannot very well be told. But he might call and coax as long as he pleased,--no Master Flea would show himself; he was up and away: at last, in the folds of his neckcloth, where Master Flea had been wont to lodge upon his going abroad, Peregrine found, after a more careful search, a tiny box, whereon was written:
"In this is the microscopic glass. If you look steadfastly into the box with your left eye, the glass will immediately be in its pupil; when you want to be freed from the instrument, you have only to gently squeeze the pupil, holding your eye over the box, and the glass will drop into it. I am busy in your service, and risk no little by it, but for so kind a protector I would hazard any thing, as
"Your most devoted servant,
"MASTER FLEA."
Now here would be an excellent opportunity for a genuine romance-writer to expatiate on the difference between lust and love, and, having handled it sufficiently in theory, to illustrate it practically in the person of Mr. Tyss. Much might be said of sensual desires, of the curse of the primal sin, and of the heavenly Promethean spark, which in love inflames that true community of spirit of the two sexes, which forms the actual necessary dualism of nature. Should now the aforesaid Promethean spark--but the reader will perhaps be glad to escape the rest of this dissertation, though he may rest assured there is much in it, whereby he might have been edified, had he been so inclined.
It must be evident to all, that Peregrine only felt desire for Dörtje Elverdink, but that, when he saw Rose Lemmerhirt, the real heavenly love blazed in his bosom. Little thanks, however, would be due to the editor of this most wonderful of all wonderful tales, if, adhering to the stiff, formal pace of renowned romancers, he could not forbear in this place exciting the weariness essentially requisite to a legitimate romance.--No; let us go to the point at once: sighs, lamentations, joys, pains, kisses, blisses, are all united in the focus of the moment, when the lovely Rose, with the crimson of maiden modesty upon her cheeks, confesses to the enraptured Peregrine that she loves him--that she cannot express how much, how immeasurably she loves him,--that she lives in him only,--that he is her only thought, her only joy.
But the crafty demon is wont to thrust his dark claws into the sunniest moments of life,--nay, to utterly obscure that sunshine by the shadow of his baleful presence. Thus it happened that evil doubts arose in Peregrine, and his breast was filled with suspicions. A voice seemed to whisper to him, "How! Dörtje Elverdink confessed her love, and yet it was mere selfishness, animated by which, she sought to tempt you into breaking your faith and becoming a traitor to your best friend, poor Master Flea! You are rich; they say too that a certain frankness and good-nature, by many called weakness, may procure you the doubtful love of men and even of women, and she, who now confesses a passion for you,"--He hastily snatched at the fate-fraught box, and was on the point of opening it to place the microscopic glass in the pupil of his eye, and thus reading the thoughts of Rose, but he looked up, and the pure blue of her bright eyes seemed to be reflected on his inmost soul. Rose saw and wondered at his emotion.
He felt as if a sudden flash of lightning had quivered through him, and the feeling of his own unworthiness overwhelmed him.
"How!" said he to himself,--"would you with sinful presumption penetrate into the sanctuary of this angel? Would you read thoughts, which have nothing in common with the wretched actions of minds entangled in earthly considerations? Would you mock the spirit of love himself, and try him with the accursed arts of dangerous and supernatural powers?"
He hastily put up the box, with a feeling as if he had committed some sin that could never be atoned, and, dissolved in sadness, flung himself at the feet of the terrified Rose, exclaiming, that he was a wretched sinner, unworthy of the love of so innocent, so pure a being.
Rose, who could not conceive what dark spirit had come over Peregrine, sank down to him, embraced him, and murmured with tears, "For God's sake, my dear Peregrine, what is the matter with you? What evil enemy has placed himself between us? Oh, come--come, and sit down quietly by me."
Incapable of any voluntary motion, Peregrine suffered himself to be raised by Rose in silence. It was well that the frail old sofa was loaded, as usual, with books and the tools for binding, so that Rose had many things to clear away to make room for Mr. Tyss. By this he gained time to recover himself, and his first wild passion subsided into a milder feeling. But if before he had looked like a most disconsolate sinner, upon whom a sentence of condemnation had been irrevocably pronounced, he now wore a somewhat silly appearance. This, however, in such circumstances, is a favourable prognostic.
When now both were seated on the aforesaid frail sofa, Rose began, with downcast eyes, and a half bashful smile,--"I can guess what has affected you so, dear Peregrine, and will own that they have told me many strange things of the singular inhabitants of your house. The neighbours,--you know what neighbours are, how they talk and talk, without knowing why or wherefore,--these evil-minded neighbours have told me of a strange lady in your house, whom many take for a princess, and whom you brought home yourself on Christmas eve. They say that the old Mr. Swammer has, indeed, received her as his niece, but that she pursues you with strange arts and temptations. This, however, is by no means the worst; only think, my dear Peregrine, my old cousin just opposite with the sharp nose, who sends over such friendly greetings when she sees you here, she has tried to put all manner of bad things into my head about you. Notwithstanding her friendly greetings, she has always warned me against you, and maintained that nothing less than sorcery was carried on in your house, and that the little Dörtje is an imp in disguise, who, to seduce you, goes about in a human form, and, indeed, in a very beautiful one. But, Peregrine, my dear Peregrine, look at me; is there any thing like doubt upon my face? I trust you, I trust the hopes of happiness to come upon us, when a firm band has united us for ever. Let the dark spirits have determined what they will in regard to you, their power is fruitless against pure love and unchanging constancy. What will, what can, disturb a love like ours? It is the talisman, before which the nightly images all fly."
At this moment Rose appeared to Peregrine like a higher being, and each of her words like the consolations of Heaven. An indescribable feeling of the purest delight streamed through him, like the sweet mild breath of spring. He was no longer the sinner, the impious presumer, which he had before held himself; he began to think with joy that he was worthy of the love of the innocent Rose.
The bookbinder, Lemmerhirt, now returned with his family from a walk.
The hearts of Rose and Peregrine were overflowing, and it was not till late that he quitted, as an accepted bridegroom, the narrow abode of the bookbinder, whose joy exalted him to heaven, while the old woman, from pure delight, sobbed rather more than was necessary.
All the authentic records, from which this wonderful history has been taken, agree in one point,--and the chronicle of centuries confirms it,--that in the night when Mr. Peregrine Tyss returned home as a happy lover, the full moon shone very brightly; it seems therefore natural enough, that, instead of going to rest, he seated himself at the open window, to stare at the moon, and think of his beloved, according to the usual custom of gentlemen, more particularly if they happen to be somewhat romantic--when under the influence of the tender passion.
But, however it may lower Mr. Peregrine Tyss with the ladies, it must not be concealed that, in spite of all his enthusiasm, he gaped twice, and so loudly, that a drunkard in the streets below called out to him, "Holla! you there with the white nightcap, don't swallow me." This of course was a sufficient cause for his dashing down the window so violently, that the frame rattled again. It is even affirmed that, in so doing, he cried out loud enough, "Impudent scoundrel!" But this cannot be relied upon, as it by no means accords with his general suavity of disposition. Enough; he shut the window, and went to bed. The necessity for sleep, however, seemed to be superseded by that immoderate gaping. Thoughts upon thoughts crossed his brain, and with peculiar vividness came before his eyes the surmounted danger, when a darker power would have tempted him to the use of the microscopic glass; and now it became plain to him that Master Flea's mysterious present, however well intended, was yet in all respects a gift from hell.
"How!" said Peregrine to himself,--"for a man to read the most hidden thoughts of his brothers! Does not this fateful gift bring upon him the dreadful destiny of the Wandering Jew, who wandered through the motliest crowds of life, as through a desert, without joy, without hope, without pain, in dull indifference, which is the caput mortuum of despair? Always trusting anew and always most bitterly deceived, how can it be otherwise than that distrust, hatred, jealousy, vindictiveness, would nestle firmly in the soul, destroying every trace of that human principle, which shows itself in benevolence and gentle confidence. No, your friendly face, your smooth words, shall not deceive me;--you, who in your inmost heart are concealing perhaps unmerited hate against me: I will hold you for my friend, I will do you as much good as I can, I will open my soul to you, because it gratifies me, and the bitter feeling of the moment, if you should deceive me, is little in comparison with the joys of a past dream. Even too the real friends, who truly mean you well--how changeable is the mind of man!--may not an evil coincidence of circumstances, a misinclination growing out of the whims of chance, create transitory hatred in the bosom of the dearest friends? The unlucky glass shows the thoughts, distrust immediately occupies the mind, and in unjust wrath I push from me the real friend, and this poison goes on, eating deeper and deeper into the roots of life, till I am at variance with every thing, even with myself.--No; it is rank impiety to wish for an equality with the Eternal Power, who sees through the heart of man, because he is its master. Away, away with the unlucky gift!"
He caught up the little box, which held the magic glass, and was on the point of dashing it against the floor with all his might, when suddenly Master Flea stood before him on the counterpane: he was in his microscopic form, and looked extremely graceful and handsome, in a glittering scale-breastplate, and highly-polished golden boots.