Master Flea by E. T. A. Hoffmann (i read a book txt) 📕

Mr. Peregrine swore high and low that he was not conscious of the slightest offence; but one of the deputies replied with a smile, that perhaps in a few hours his innocence might be proved, till when, however, he must submit to the orders of the magistrate. After this, what was left to Mr. Tyss but to get into the coach, and suffer himself to be carried off to prison? It may be supposed with what feelings he passed Mr. Swammer's chamber.

Master Flea sate in the collar of the prisoner.

Unexpected meeting of two friends.--Love-despair of the Thistle, Zeherit.--Optical duel of two magi.--Somnambulant condition of the Princess Gamaheh.--The thoughts of the dream.--How Dörtje Elverdink almost speaks the truth, and the Thistle, Zeherit, runs off with the Princess Gamaheh.

The mistake of the watchman in arresting Mr. George Pepusch for a thief was soon explained. In the mean time, however, some informalities had been discovered in his passport, and for this reason they required that he should produce some resident citizen of Frankfort as his bail, till when he must be contented with his present place in prison.

Here then sate Mr. George Pepusch in a very neat room, meditating on whom he could find in Frankfort to be his bail. He had been away so long that he feared he must be forgotten by those who had formerly known him well; and, as to foreign recommendations, he possessed none whatever. He began to look out of the window in a very melancholy mood, and cursed his fate aloud, when a window was opened close by him, and a voice exclaimed,--"What! do I see right? Is it you, George?" Mr. Pepusch was not a little astonished on perceiving the friend, with whom he had been most intimate during his residence at Madras. "The deuce!" he exclaimed, "that I should be so forgetful, so utterly stupid! I knew that you had got safely into harbour, and in Hamburg heard strange things of your way of living, and, when I had got here, never thought of paying you a visit. But he who has such wonderful things in his head as I have--Well, it is lucky that accident brought you to me! You see I am under arrest, but you can immediately set me free, by answering for my being really the George Pepusch, whom you knew years ago, and not a thief nor a robber."

"Why," replied Peregrine, "I should be an excellent bail, being myself under arrest!"

He now related at large to his friend, how since his return to Frankfort he had found himself deprived of both his parents, and had from that time led, amidst all the bustle of a city, a lonely joyless life, devoted to the memory of other days. To this George replied morosely, "Oh yes, I have heard of it, I have heard of the fools'-tricks you play, that you may waste life in a childish dream. You would be a hero of innocence, of childishness; and for this despise the just claims which society has upon you. You give imaginary family feasts, and bestow upon the poor the costly viands, the dear wines, which you have before served up to the dead. You give yourself Christmas-boxes, and act as if you were a child, and then present to poor children these gifts, which are of the sort usually wasted in rich houses upon spoiled young ones. But you do not reflect that you are doing a scurvy benefit to the poor in tickling their gums with delicacies, that they may doubly feel their wretchedness, when afterwards they are compelled, by pressing hunger, to eat the vile bits that would be rejected by many a petted lap-dog. Ha! how this alms-giving disgusts me, when I think that what you thus waste in a day would be sufficient to support them for months in a moderate manner. Then too you overload them with glittering gew-gaws, when a common toy, presented by their fathers or mothers, gives them infinitely more pleasure. They eat themselves sick with your infernal marchpane; and with the knowledge of your splendid gifts, which in the end must be denied to them, you sow in their young minds the seeds of discontent and uneasiness. You are rich, full of youth, and yet withdraw yourself from all society, and thus frustrate the approaches of well-meaning minds. I will believe that the death of your parents may have shaken you, but if every one, who has suffered a real loss, were to creep into his shell, by heavens! the whole world would be like a house of mourning, and I would not live in it. But, my friend! do you know that you are under the influence of the most determined egotism that ever lurked beneath a silly misanthropy?--Go, go, Peregrine, I can no longer esteem you, no longer be your friend, if you do not change this way of life, and give up your abominable system of house-keeping."

Peregrine snapped his fingers, and Master Flea instantly placed the microscopic glass in his eye. The thoughts of the angry Pepusch ran thus,--"Is it not a pity that such a kind, understanding man should fall into these dangerous fancies, which at last will completely unnerve him, and deprive him of his best powers? But it is evident that his delicate mind, which is besides inclined to melancholy, could not endure the blow inflicted on him by the death of his parents, and he seeks for consolation in a mode of life which borders upon madness. He is lost if I do not save him. The more I esteem him, the harder I will attack him, and the stronger I will paint his folly."

In these thoughts Peregrine saw that he had found his old friend unaltered; and, after Master Flea had taken the microscopic glass out of his eye, he said, "George, I will not contend with you as to what you say of my mode of life, for I know you mean it well with me; but I must tell you that it gives me real delight when I can make a day of festival to the poor, although in this I do not think of myself, a detestable egotism, of which at least I feel unconscious. They are the flowers in my life, which else seems to me like a wild melancholy field of thistles."

"What do you say of thistles?" interrupted George Pepusch hastily; "why do you despise thistles, and place them in opposition to flowers? Are you so little versed in natural history as not to know that the most wonderful blossom in the world is that of the thistle, I mean the Cactus grandiflorus. And again, is not the thistle, Zeherit, the most beautiful Cactus under the sun? Peregrine, I have so long kept it from you, or rather was forced to keep it from you, because I myself had not the full conviction of it; but now learn, that I myself am the thistle, Zeherit, and will never give up my claims to the hand of the daughter of the worthy king, Sekakis, the heavenly Princess Gamaheh. I had found her, but in the same moment the diabolical watchmen seized me, and dragged me to prison."

"How!" cried Peregrine, half petrified with astonishment, "are you too involved in the strangest of all histories?"

"What history?" asked Pepusch.

Peregrine did not hesitate to tell his friend, as he had before told Mr. Swammer, all that had happened at the bookbinder's, and afterwards at his own house. He did not even conceal the appearance of Master Flea, although, as may be easily supposed, he kept to himself the secret of his possessing the microscopic glass.

George's eyes burnt, he bit his lips, struck his forehead, and, when Peregrine had ended, cried out like a maniac, "The false one! the traitress!" Greedy, in the self-pangs of despairing love, to drain the last drop from the poison-cup, which Peregrine had unconsciously proffered him, he made him repeat every little trait of Dörtje's behaviour, interrupting him with murmurs of--"In the arms! on the breast! glowing kisses!" Then again he started away from the window, and ran about the room with the gestures of a madman. In vain Peregrine cried out to him to hear the rest, exclaiming that he had much that was consolatory to say--Pepusch did not the more leave off his raving.

The door was opened, and an officer of the council announced to Peregrine that no sufficient cause had been found for his longer imprisonment, and he might return home.

The first use Peregrine made of his regained freedom was to offer himself as bail for George Pepusch, testifying that he was really George Pepusch, with whom he had lived in intimacy at Madras, and who was known to him for a man of fortune and respectability.

Master Flea exhausted himself in very philosophic and instructive reflections, which amounted to this, that the Thistle, Zeherit, in spite of his rough exterior, was very kind and reasonable, but a little too overbearing, and, fairly considered, was quite correct in his censure of Mr. Peregrine's way of life, though somewhat too harsh perhaps in his expressions. He too,--that is, Master Flea,--would really advise Mr. Peregrine henceforth to go abroad in the world.

"Believe me," he said, "it will bring you many advantages to leave your solitude. You need no longer fear seeming shy and confused, as, with the mysterious glass in your eye, you command the thoughts of men, and it is, therefore, impossible that you should not always maintain the right tact. How firmly and calmly may you stand before the highest, while their inward souls lie open to your eyes. Therefore, move freely in the world; your blood will circulate more lightly, all melancholy brooding will cease, and, which is the best of all, motley ideas and thoughts will arise in your brain, the image of the fair Gamaheh will lose its brightness, and you will soon be better able to keep your word with me."

Peregrine felt that both George Pepusch and Master Flea meant him well, and he resolved to follow their wise advice. But when he heard the sweet voice of his beautiful beloved, he could not think how it was possible for him to leave the house, which had become a paradise to him.

At length he brought himself to visit a public promenade. Master Flea had fixed the glass in his eye, and taken up a place in his collar, where he gently rocked himself to and fro at his ease.

"Have I at last the pleasure of seeing my good friend Mr. Tyss again? You make yourself scarce, my dear sir, and we have all been longing for you. Let us go into a coffeehouse, and take a glass of wine together. I am truly rejoiced to see you."

It was thus that he was addressed by a young man, whom he had seen scarcely two or three times. The thoughts ran thus;--"Is the stupid misanthrope visible again? But I must flatter him, that I may soon borrow money of him. He'll not surely be possessed by the devil, and accept my invitation; I have not a halfpenny in my pocket, and no innkeeper will trust me any longer."

Two well-dressed girls now crossed him. They were sisters, distantly related to him.

"Ah, cousin!" cried one of them, laughing, "do we meet you at last? It is not well done to lock yourself up so that one can never get a sight of you. You do not know how fond mamma is of you, because you are such a sensible man. Promise me to come soon. There, kiss my hand." The thoughts ran thus;--"How! what is this? what has come to our