Master Flea by E. T. A. Hoffmann (drm ebook reader .txt) 📕
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Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann was a contemporary of Ludwig von Beethoven: a composer himself, a music critic, and a late-German-Romantic-movement writer of novels and numerous short stories. His incisive wit and poetic imagery allow the reader to peer into the foibles of society and the follies of human psychology. (In fact, Hoffmann’s wit may have gotten him into a bit of legal trouble, as parts of Master Flea were censored and had to be reworked when authorities disliked certain satirical criticisms of contemporary dealings of the court system.)
Join gentleman bachelor Peregrine Tyss as his life as a recluse takes a twist, when he gains an epic advantage of tiny proportions. Part proto-science-fiction and part Romantic fantasy, Master Flea follows the fate of a mysterious, captivating princess at the intersection of numerous suitors, human and insect. Like a lesson from a fable or a tale of classical mythology, Hoffmann’s fairy-tale allegory shows how seeking forbidden knowledge can poison the soul, and how following the heart can heal it.
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- Author: E. T. A. Hoffmann
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“Since a short time—” said Mr. Tyss, in a tone that showed his mental perplexity, “Since a short time I have experienced so many wonders, that I should be in perpetual doubt, if the whole had not been a manifest subject of the senses. But now I believe everything, however wild and fantastic. It may be that you are the dead Jan Swammerdam, and, therefore, as a dead-alive, know more than other common men, but as to the flight of Dörtje Elverdink, or the Princess Gamaheh, or however else the lady may be called, you are in a monstrous error. Hear how the matter really happened.”
Peregrine now related quite calmly the adventure he had with the lady, her entrance into Lemmerhirt’s room, up to her reception with Mr. Swammer, who, when he had done replied, “It seems to me, as if all that you have been pleased to relate were nothing more than a singular, yet very pleasant, dream. I will, however, let that be, and request your friendship, which perhaps I may have much need of. Forget my morose conduct, and let us be more intimate. Your father was a shrewd man and my good friend, but in regard to science, depth of understanding, mature judgment, and practiced insight into life, the son goes before the father. You know not how much I esteem you, my worthy Mr. Tyss.”
“Now is the time!” whispered Master Flea, and in the same moment Peregrine felt a slight passing pain in the pupil of his left eye. He knew that Master Flea had placed the microscopic glass in his eye, but he had not before had the slightest idea of its effects. Behind the tunicle of Swammer’s eyes he perceived strange nerves and branches, the perplexed course of which he traced deep into the forehead, and could perceive that they were Swammer’s thoughts. They ran much in this way: “I did not expect to get off so easily here, without being better questioned. If papa was an ignoramus, of whom I never thought anything, the son is still worse, with a greater infusion of childishness. With the simplicity of an idiot, he tells me the whole adventure with the Princess, not seeing that she must have already told me all, as my behaviour to her of necessity presupposes an earlier intimacy. But there is no help for it; I must speak him fair, because I want his help. He is simple enough to believe all I say, and, in his stupid good nature, to make many a sacrifice to my interest, for which he will reap no other thanks than that, when all is over, and Gamaheh mine again, I shall laugh soundly at him behind his back.”
“It seemed to me—” said Swammer, coming close to Peregrine. “It seemed to me, my dear Mr. Tyss, as if a flea were on your collar.”
The thoughts ran thus: “The deuce! that was, indeed, Master Flea! It would be a queer piece of business if Gamaheh should be right after all.”
Peregrine stepped nimbly back, protesting that he had no dislike to fleas.
“Then,” replied Swammer, with a profound bow, “then for the present I most respectfully take my leave, my dear Mr. Tyss.”
The thoughts ran thus: “I wish the blackwinged devil had you, idiot!”
Master Flea took the microscopic glass out of the eye of the astonished Peregrine, and then said, “You have now, my dear sir, experienced the wonderful effects of the glass, which has not its equal in the world, and must perceive what a superiority it gives you over men, by laying open before your eyes their inmost thoughts. But, if you were to use it constantly, the perpetual knowledge of their real sentiments would overwhelm you, for the bitter vexation which you have just now experienced would be too often repeated. I will always be with you when you leave your house, sitting either in your collar, or in some convenient place, and if you wish to learn the thoughts of him who is conversing with you, you have only to snap your fingers, and the glass will be in your eye immediately.”
Peregrine, seeing the manifest advantages of such a gift, was about to pour out the warmest thanks, when two deputies from the council entered, and announced to him that he was accused of a deep offence, the consequence of which must be preliminary imprisonment and the seizure of his papers.
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 sat in the collar of the prisoner.
IV Fourth AdventureThe mistake of the watchman in arresting Mr. George Pepusch for a thief was soon explained. In the meantime, however, some informalities had been discovered in his passport, and for this reason they required that he should produce some resident citizen of Frankfurt as his bail, till when he must be contented with his present place in prison.
Here then sat Mr. George Pepusch in a very neat room, meditating on whom he could find in Frankfurt 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
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