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 Doertje 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.
"Hold!" he cried; "hold, most respected friend; do not commit an
absurdity. You would sooner annihilate a sun-moat than fling this
little indestructible glass but a foot from you, while I am near. For
the rest, though you were not aware of it, I was sitting, as usual, in
the folds of your neckcloth, when you were at the honest bookbinder's,
and therefore heard and saw all that passed. Just so I have been a
party to your present edifying soliloquy, and have learnt several
things from it. In the first place, you have shown the purity of your
mind in all its glory, whence I infer that the decisive moment is fast
approaching. Then too I have found that, in regard to the microscopic
glass, I was in a great error. Believe me, my honoured friend, although
I have not the pleasure to be a man, as you are, but only a flea--no
simple one, indeed, but a graduate,--still I thoroughly understand
human beings, amongst whom I so constantly live. Most frequently their
actions appear to me very ridiculous, and even childish.--Do not take
it ill, my friend; I speak it only as Master Flea. You are right; it
would be a bad thing, and could not possibly lead to any good, if a man
were able to spy thus, without ceremony, into the brains of his
neighbours; still to the careless, lively, flea this quality of the
microscopic glass is not in the least dangerous.
"Most honoured friend, and, as fortune soon will have it, most happy
friend,--you know that my people are of a reckless, merry disposition,
and one might say that they consisted of mere youthful springalds. With
this I can, for my part, boast of a peculiar sort of wisdom, which in
general is wanting to you children of men;--that is, I never do any
thing out of season. To bite is the principal business of my life, but
I always bite in the right time and right place; lay that to your
heart, my worthy friend.
"I will now back from your hands, and faithfully preserve the gift,
intended for you, and which neither that preparation of a man, called
Swammerdamm, nor Leuwenhock, who wears himself out with petty envy,
could possess. And now, my honoured Mr. Tyss, resign yourself to
slumber. You will soon fall into a dreamy delirium, in which the great
moment will reveal itself. At the right time I shall be with you
again."
Master Flea disappeared, and the brilliance, which he had spread, faded
away in the darkness of the chamber, the curtains of which were closely
drawn.
It fell out as Master Flea had said.
Peregrine fancied that he was lying on the banks of a murmuring
wood-stream, and heard the sighing of the wind, the whispering of the
leaves, and the humming of a thousand insects that buzzed about him.
Then it seemed as if strange voices were audible, plainer and still
plainer, so that, at last, Peregrine thought he could make out words.
But it was only a confused and stunning hubbub that reached his ear.
At length these words were pronounced by a solemn, hollow voice, that
sounded clearer and clearer,--
"Unhappy king, Sekakis, thou who didst despise the intelligence of
nature, who, blinded by the evil spells of a crafty demon, didst look
upon the false Teraphim, instead of the real spirit!
"In that fate-fraught spot at Famagusta, buried in the deep mine of the
earth, lay the talisman; but, when you destroyed yourself, there was no
principle to rekindle its frozen powers. In vain you sacrificed your
daughter, the beautiful Gamaheh; in vain was the amorous despair of the
Thistle, Zeherit; but at the same time impotent and inoperative was the
blood-thirst of the Leech-Prince. Even the awkward Genius, Thetel, was
obliged to let go his sweet prey, for so mighty still, O king, Sekakis,
was thy half-extinct idea, that thou couldst return the lost one to the
primal element, from which she sprang.
"And ye, insane anatomists of nature, that ever the unhappy one should
have fallen into your hands, when you discovered her in the petal of a
tulip! That you should have tormented her with your detestable
experiments, presuming, in your childish arrogance, that you could
effect that by your wretched arts, which could only happen by the power
of that sleeping talisman.
"And you, Master Flea, even to you it was not granted to pierce the
mystery, for thy clear sight had not yet the power to penetrate the
depths of earth, and see the frozen carbuncle.
"The stars now crossed each other in strange motions, and fearful
constellations produced the wonderful, the inscrutable to the purblind
sight of man. But still no starry conflict awoke the carbuncle; for the
human mind was not born that could cherish it--but at last--
"_The wonder is fulfilled, the moment is come._"
A bright shine flickered by Peregrine; he awoke out of his
stupefaction, and, to his no little surprise, perceived Master Flea,
who, in his microscopic form, but clad in a splendid drapery, and
holding a blazing torch in his forepaws, busily skipped, up and down
the chamber, and trilled forth the finest tones imaginable.
Peregrine strove to rouse himself from sleep, when suddenly a thousand
fiery flashes quivered through the room, that in a short time seemed to
be filled by one single glowing ball of fire. Then a mild aromatic
breeze waved through the wild blaze, which soon died away into the
softest moonlight.
Peregrine now found himself on a splendid throne, in the rich garments
of an Indian king, the sparkling diadem upon his head, the emblematic
lotus-flower in his hand instead of a sceptre. The throne stood in the
midst of a hall, so large, the eye could not take in its extent; and
its thousand columns were slim cedars, aspiring to the heavens. Between
them, roses and the most odorous flowers of every kind lifted up their
heads from amidst a dark foliage, as if longing for the pure bright
azure, that glittered through the twined branches of the cedars, and
seemed to look down upon them with the eyes of love.
Peregrine recognized himself; he felt that the carbuncle, rekindled
into life, was glowing in his own breast.
In the farthest background the Genius, Thetel, was labouring to rise
into the air, but never was able to reach half the height of the
cedars, and fell back again to earth. Here the odious Leech-Prince was
crawling with abominable contortions, now blowing himself out, and then
again extending himself, and groaning out, all the time,--"Gamaheh!
Still mine!"
In the middle of the hall, upon colossal microscopes, sate Leuwenhock
and Swammerdamm, making most piteous faces, and reproachfully calling
out to each other,--"See now! that was the point in the horoscope, the
meaning of which you could not interpret. The talisman is lost to us
for ever!"
Close upon the steps of the throne Doertje Elverdink and George Pepusch
seemed not so much to sleep as to be in a deep swoon.
Peregrine,--or, as we may now call him, King Sekakis,--flung back the
regal mantle that covered his breast, and, from within, the carbuncle
shot forth dazzling beams, like Heaven's fire, through the immense
hall.
The Genius, Thetel, again tried to rise, but he fell away, with a
hollow groan, into innumerable colourless flocks, which, driven by the
wind, were lost in the bushes.
With the most horrible cries of agony, the Leech-Prince shrunk up, and
vanished into the earth, while an indignant roar was heard, as if she
reluctantly received into her bosom the odious fugitive. Leuwenhock and
Swammerdamm had sunk down from the microscopes into themselves, and it
was plain, from their sighs and groans, that they were undergoing a
severe punishment.
But Doertje Elverdink and George Pepusch,--or, as we should now call
them, Princess Gamaheh and the Thistle, Zeherit,--had awakened from
their swoon, and knelt before the king. Their eyes were cast to earth,
as if unable to bear the burning splendour of the carbuncle.
Peregrine addressed them all with solemnity:
"Thou, who shouldst deceive men as the Genius, Thetel, thou wert
compounded, by the evil demon, of clay and feathers, and therefore the
beaming of love destroyed thee, empty phantom, and thou wert reduced to
thy original nothing.
"And thou too, blood-thirsty monster of the night, thou wast forced to
fly from the fire of the carbuncle into the bosom of the earth.
"But you, poor dupes, unhappy Swammerdamm, wretched Leuwenhock, your
whole life was one incessant error. You sought to inquire into Nature,
without suspecting the import of her inward being. You were
presumptuous enough to wish to penetrate into her workshop and watch
her secret labours, imagining that you could, without punishment, look
into the fearful mysteries of those depths, which are inscrutable to
the human eye. Your hearts remained cold and insensible; the real love
has never warmed your bosom. You imagined that you read the holy
wonders of nature, with pious admiration, but, in endeavouring to find
out the condition of those wonders, even in their inmost core, yourself
destroyed that pious feeling, and the knowledge, after which you
strove, was a phantom merely, that has deceived you, like prying,
inquisitive children.
"Fools! For you the beams of the carbuncle no longer have hope or
consolation."
"Ha! ha! There is hope, there is consolation; the old one betakes
herself to the old ones; there's love! there's truth! there's
tenderness! And the old one is now really a queen, and takes her little
Swammerdamm and her little Leuwenhock into her kingdom, and there they
are princes, and wind gold thread and silver thread, and do many other
useful things."
So spoke the old Alina, who suddenly stood between the two
microscopists, clad in a strange dress, which nearly resembled the
costume of the Queen of Golconda in the opera. But Leuwenhock and
Swammerdamm had so shrunk up, that they seemed to be scarcely a span
high, and the Queen of Golconda, putting her puppets into two ivory
cradles, rocked and nursed them, and sang to them,--Lullaby, lullaby,
baby mine, &c.
During this the Princess Gamaheh and the Thistle, Zeherit, were still
kneeling on the steps of the throne. Peregrine spoke:
"Yes, beloved pair, the error is past, which disturbed your lives.
Come, dear ones, to my breast. The beam of the carbuncle will penetrate
your hearts, and you will enjoy the blessedness of Heaven."
With a cry of joy and hope, the lovers started up, and Peregrine
pressed them strongly to his glowing heart. When he released them, they
fell, transported, into each others arms; the corpse-like paleness had
vanished from their brows, and the freshness of youth bloomed on their
cheeks and sparkled in their eyes.
Master Flea, who had hitherto stood by the throne with all the gravity
of a guard of honour, suddenly resumed his natural shape, and with a
vigorous spring he leaped upon Doertje's neck, crying out, in a shrill
voice, "Old love never changes."
But, oh wonder! in the same moment, Rose lay upon Peregrine's breast,
in all her youthful beauty, beaming with the purest love, like a cherub
from Heaven.
And now the branches of the cedars rustled, the flowers lifted their
heads more loftily, soft melodies poured from the bushes, and the
thousand voices of delight rose from earth, and air, and water.
* * * * *
Mr. Peregrine Tyss had purchased a handsome villa, in the vicinity of
the city, and here, on the same day, was to be celebrated the double
marriage of himself with Rose, and his friend George Pepusch with the
little Doertje Elverdink.
The kind reader will excuse my entering into the details of the nuptial
feast and ceremonies. For my part I am willing to leave it to my fair
readers to settle the dress of the two brides according to their own
fancy. It is only to be observed, that Peregrine and his beautiful Rose
were all simple delight, while George and Doertje, on the contrary, were
meditative, and with mutual gaze seemed to have thought, eyes, and ears
for each other only.
* * * * *
It was midnight, when suddenly the balsamic odours of the
large-blossomed thistle spread through the whole garden.
Peregrine awoke from sleep. He fancied that he heard the plaintive
melody of hopeless desire, and a strange foreboding got possession of
him. It seemed to him as if a friend were violently torn from him.
The next morning the second bridal pair was missing, namely, George
Pepusch and Doertje Elverdink; what added not a little to the general
astonishment was, that they had not at all entered the bridal chamber.
In this moment of doubt, the gardener came and exclaimed, "He did not
know what to think of it, but a strange wonder had happened in the
garden. Throughout the whole night he had dreamt of the blooming
_Cactus grandiflorus_, and not till now discovered the cause of
it.--They should only come and see!"--
Peregrine and Rose went into the garden. In the middle of a clump of
flowers a lofty thistle had shot up, which drooped its withering
blossom beneath the morning sun; about this a variegated tulip wound
itself, and that also had died a vegetable death.
"Oh, my foreboding!" cried Peregrine, while his voice trembled with
sadness. "Oh, my foreboding! it has not deceived me. The beams of the
carbuncle, which have kindled me to the highest life, have given death
to thee, thou sweet pair, united by the strange discords of opposing
powers. The mystery is revealed; the highest moment of gratified desire
was also the moment of thy death."
Rose too seemed to have a foreboding of the wonder; she bent over the
poor perished tulip, and shed a stream of tears.
"You are quite right," said Master Flea, who suddenly appeared in his
microscopic form on the top of the thistle--"you are quite right, my
dear Mr. Peregrine. It is all as you have said, and I have lost my
beloved for ever."
Rose was at first somewhat frightened at the little creature, but
seeing that he gazed on her with such friendly, intelligent eyes, and
Peregrine spoke so familiarly with him, she took heart, looked boldly
on his graceful tiny form, and gained so much the more confidence in
him as Peregrine whispered to her, "this is my kind Master Flea."
"My good Peregrine," said Master Flea very tenderly,--"my dear lady, I
must now leave you, and return to my people; yet I shall always be your
devoted friend, and you shall constantly experience my presence in a
way that will be agreeable to you. Farewell! heartily farewell to both
of you. And all good fortune be with you."
During this, he had resumed his natural form, and vanished without
leaving a single trace behind.
Here the records suddenly break off, and the wonderful history of
Master Flea comes to a joyous and wished-for--_end_.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The Blocksberg, or Brocken, is the name of the highest
part of the Hartz mountains, where the German witches celebrate their
saturnalia.--TR.]
END OF VOL. II.