CHAPTER VI.

This last specimen of fanatical rage had made such a decided impression

upon the good Alf, that he no longer felt any special desire for that

baptism which was to complete his spiritual union with the great

prophet; and as, notwithstanding his adherence to the new doctrines, he

began to feel a secret loathing of the unceasing exhortations,

revelations and prophecies, by means of which the people were kept in

such a constant ferment, he devoted himself to assiduous labor for

arming the defences of the city, and under this excuse withdrew himself

from the public meetings of the populace which were daily drummed

together.

For a time his attention was entirely absorbed by his workshop and his

Eliza, whose wild tenderness steeped his youthful senses in a sea of

pleasure, such as he had never before dreamed of. Clara in her quiet,

patient way, observed the happiness of the lovers, who placed no

restraint upon themselves on her account; and the only discoverable

effect it produced on her was, that she became every day paler and more

fragile.

This was perceived by the kind-hearted Alf, and as he happened to find

the good child on one occasion alone in her sitting room, engaged at

her distaff, he seated himself beside her in a familiar manner and,

pressing her hand, asked her, 'what ails thee, my good sister?'

'Ah! call me not so, Kippenbrock,' said Clara, sorrowfully; and gently

withdrew her hand.

'Wherefore not?' cried Alf, surprised. 'May I not call thee sister, as

thy brother in the faith, and as the future husband of the dear Eliza?'

The maiden raised her tearful eyes to Him on high. 'You pierce my

wounded heart,' said she, 'but you do not know the pain you inflict,

and therefore do I right willingly forgive you.'

'Again I do not understand you,' said Alf. 'I see you always sorrowful,

and I can endure it no longer. I feel myself so happy with your sister,

that I desire to render all about me as happy as myself. Therefore

confide in me, good maiden, and take my word for it, I will do

everything in my power to mitigate your sorrow.'

'_I_ confide in _you_! in _you_!' cried Clara, rising and attempting to

retire.

The stout youth held her fast in his arms. 'No,' said he, 'beloved

Clara, I will not let you go until you have opened your heart to me. By

the holy God, mine is well disposed toward you.'

At that moment the door opened, and the detestable Tuiskoshirer,

closely wrapped in his tattered mantle, walked in.

'My God!' shrieked Clara, as she caught a glimpse of him, and violently

disengaging herself from Alf's arms, she sprang out of the room.

With a smirk upon his lips, which he seemed to have borrowed from a

monkey, the little man followed her with his eyes until she

disappeared--then, stepping solemnly in front of Alf, called to him in

a hoarse, howling voice, 'art thou willing to become king of Zion,

brother?'

'I king of Zion?' asked Alf in return, with the greatest astonishment.

'How can such a thing be?'

'I ask thee,' howled Tuiskoshirer, 'if thou wilt be king over the new

Zion, formerly under the anti-christ, called Munster?'

'I rule over this same Munster as its chief magistrate?' cried Alf,

laughing. 'That is a wonderful proposition, and besides, it appears to

me as if we were not the men to accomplish it.'

'Short sighted man!' growled Tuiskoshirer, 'knowest thou not that the

first shall be last and the last shall be first? We are all clay in the

hands of the Potter. The Spirit has just seated himself near the board

in order to make a king. To that eminence will I raise thee up; for

thou art a brave warrior, and moreover a handsome youth, and wilt

administer the government with power and mildness, for the welfare of

all.'

'Ah! do not propose such pranks to me,' said Alf. 'You have others more

suitable for that office than I; and besides, Johannes Bockhold would

make a powerful opposition to my mounting the throne.'

'Johannes Bockhold,' answered Tuiskoshirer, 'is a feather in the breath

of my mouth. He has indeed thought of announcing himself as the new

king of this city, yet shall have only served you, if you will but

accept the sceptre. I have seen through the prophet's character; he has

much madness, yet little courage, and we need a consummate man upon

this iron throne.'

'Are you wholly in earnest in making these propositions?' asked Alf.

'Then I must indeed answer in earnest. I do not feel myself fit to

govern a nation and people, nor to take upon myself an office for which

I have not been prepared,--from which may God mercifully preserve me!'

'Fool!' cried Tuiskoshirer; 'ruling is as light and easy as it is

pleasant.'

'Yet heavy and severe is the reckoning above for bad government,'

replied Alf. 'No, seek thee another king.'

Tuiskoshirer then flung open his tattered mantle, and drew from under

its folds a magnificent regal crown, ingeniously formed of fine gold,

and splendidly radiant with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires,

and, as he turned and waved it here and there in the sunlight, the

golden and colored sparkles played so gaily about the room, that Alf

was compelled to turn away his blinded eyes.

'In this crown is placed all my earthly wealth,' said Tuiskoshirer,

pathetically. 'Ingeniously have I made it, during the stillness of the

night, as an offering for the Spirit, that he therewith might crown the

new king of Zion. Thee have I selected therefor, from among a thousand.

Do you but consent, and I will set this emblem of royalty upon your

head, and with God's help I will maintain it there.'

The youth looked at the beautiful crown for a moment, and its golden

lustre seemed to awaken his ambition; but his better self soon

conquered. 'Leave me, tempter!' cried he with vehemence, and forcibly

replacing the bauble under the prophet's mantle, he dexterously pushed

him out through the door.

'You will repent of this,' howled the little man as he disappeared.

Tales from the German. Volume II. · 第 6 / 31 章