The Sorrows of Young Werther and Selected Writings Read online

  I had to assure myself of this wonderful characteristic of my purse, so I sat down and counted the money, then memorized the sum total carefully, and went on living as merrily and sociably as ever. I didn’t miss an excursion into the country or a boat trip, singing, dancing or any other pleasures. But it soon became quite evident that now my purse was growing smaller, as if with my accursed counting, I had robbed it of its virtue of being countless! By now though, my pursuit of pleasure was in full swing again, and there seemed to be no way back, although I was again almost at the end of my resources. I cursed the situation I found myself in; I ranted against the beautiful creature who had led me into this temptation and was offended because she did not put in an appearance again. Angrily I renounced all my obligations to her and decided to open the casket and see if I couldn’t find some assistance in it. For, although it was not heavy enough to contain money, there could have been jewels in it, and they would have been most welcome too. I was about to carry out my intention, then decided to wait for the night in order to be able to do so undisturbed, and hurried off to a banquet that was being held. There was the usual carousing, and all of us were wildly excited by wine and trumpet blast, when something very unpleasant happened. The meal was almost over when an older friend of my favorite beauty at table entered the hall quite unexpectedly, having returned from a journey. He sat down beside her without much ado and tried to assert his old rights. The result was bad feeling, dispute, and strife. We drew swords, and I was carried home more dead than alive.

  A surgeon bound my wounds and left me. It was already past midnight and my attendant was asleep, when the door to the next room opened, and my mysterious lady walked into my room and sat down at my bedside. She asked me how I felt. I didn’t reply because I was too weak and miserable. She went on speaking to me with much compassion and rubbed my temples with a certain balm that made me feel stronger at once—so strong, in fact, that I could become angry and upbraid her. In a violent speech, I laid all the blame for my misfortune at her feet, railed against the passion with which she filled me, against her appearing and disappearing, and the boredom and longing that had to be the result. I became more and more vehement, as if attacked by a fever. Finally I swore that if she still refused to be mine and would not submit to me, I no longer wished to live; and I demanded an immediate reply. When she hesitated with some sort of excuse, I was beside myself and tore off my bandages with the intention of bleeding to death. Imagine my astonishment when I found my wounds healed, my body in as fine condition as ever, and her in my arms!

  Now we were the happiest couple in the world. Alternately we begged each other’s forgiveness without really knowing what for. She promised to travel with me from now on, and soon we were sitting side by side in the carriage, the casket opposite us like a third person. I had never spoken of it in her presence, and it didn’t occur to me to do so now, although there it was before our eyes. In a tacit understanding, both of us looked after it whenever necessary, but I was the one who put it in the carriage and lifted it out again, and I was also the one who attended to the locking of the doors.

  As long as there was still something in the purse, I paid, and when all the money was gone, I said so. “We can soon remedy that,” she said, pointing to two small bags hanging on either side of the carriage. I had noticed them before, but we had never made any use of them. She put her hand into one and drew out a few pieces of gold, out of the other some silver, thus demonstrating to me how it would be possible for us to continue to live as we pleased. And so we traveled from city to city, from country to country, were gay whether we were alone or with others, and it never occurred to me that she might leave me again, especially since she had been pregnant for some time now, a circumstance that only served to increase our joy and love for each other. But alas, one morning I could not find her, and since I didn’t like the idea of remaining without her, I proceeded on my way, with the casket. I tried both moneybags and found them full.

  The trip was a pleasant one, and although I had no desire to reflect on my recent fantastic adventures—I expected them to come to a quite natural end somehow—something happened now that amazed and worried me. Yes, I would go so far as to say that it frightened me. Since, to get away from a place, I was accustomed to traveling by day and night, I quite often found myself driving in the dark. Then, if the lanterns happened to fail, it was black as night in the carriage. Once, on such a dark night, I had fallen asleep. When I awoke, I saw a ray of light above me on the hood of the carriage. I followed its course down and discovered that it came from the casket, which evidently had a crack, as if it had split a little in the hot, dry summer weather that had just set in. I thought again of jewels—a diamond might be in the casket—I had to find out if I was right. I moved so as to bring my eye down to the crack and was overwhelmed with astonishment when I found myself looking into a brilliantly lit room that was richly furnished in excellent taste. It was as if I were looking through an archway into a palatial hall. Of course, I could see only a part of the room, but I could guess what the rest must look like. A fire was burning on the hearth; an armchair was standing beside it. I held my breath and went on looking. Now a woman came from another side of the room, a book in her hand, and I immediately recognized my beautiful lady, although she was minute. She sat down in the armchair beside the fire to read, first fixing some branches that were burning with the prettiest little fire tongs, in the course of which I could see quite clearly that this darling little creature was pregnant too. But now I simply had to move—my position was so cramped—and soon after that, when I wanted to look again and convince myself that I had not been dreaming, the light was gone, and I found myself staring into the dark.

  You can imagine how shocked I was. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had discovered, yet couldn’t think clearly about it at all. At last I fell asleep, and when I awoke, I was sure I had dreamed the whole thing, yet I also felt a little estranged from my lovely lady; and the more carefully I carried the casket, the less I could say whether I wanted her to reappear again full size or not.

  One evening, some time later, she really did appear, dressed all in white. Since the room was twilit, she looked taller than usual, and I recalled having read that all water sprites and elves grew taller when night was falling. As usual, she flew into my arms, but I could not embrace her with my customary carefree fervor.

  “My beloved,” she said, “I can tell by your reception what, alas, I already know. You have seen me since last we met and know what shape I must assume at certain times, and this knowledge has affected your happiness and mine. In fact, our happiness is in danger of being utterly destroyed. I must leave you, and I don’t know if I shall ever see you again.”

  Her presence, and the graciousness with which she spoke, succeeded in almost completely eradicating from my memory that other shape of hers that had haunted me until now. I embraced her ardently and convinced her of my love; I assured her of my innocence, explaining how I had discovered everything quite by chance; in short, I did what I could to calm her, and she did the same for me.

  “Think it over carefully,” she said. “Has this discovery hurt your love for me? Can you forget that I live with you in two shapes? Doesn’t the diminution of my form also diminish your love for me?”

  I looked at her—she was more lovely than ever—and I thought to myself, “Is it such a misfortune to possess a woman who, from time to time, is so tiny that one can carry her in a casket? Wouldn’t it be much worse if, instead of becoming a pixie, she were to become gigantic, and put her man in a casket?” By this time my good humor had been restored, and I would not have let her go for anything in the world.

  “Dear heart,” I said, “let all things remain as they are. Could two people be more blessed? Do whatever is best for yourself, and I promise you that all I shall do is carry the casket more carefully than ever. How could the prettiest little thing I have ever seen in my life make a bad impression on me? How happy all lovers would b
e if they could possess such a miniature of their beloved! For that’s what it is, a miniature, a most artful deception. You may test and tease me, but you shall see how staunch I shall be!”

  “The situation is more serious than you realize,” she said, “but I am glad to see you take it so lightly, for things may still turn out happily for both of us. I am going to trust you and will do the best I can; only promise me never to think with reproach of what you have discovered. And I want to add one more, most urgent request—be more cautious than ever of wine and anger.”

  I promised everything she asked and would have gone on protesting, but she changed the subject, and all things were as they had been before. There was no reason for us to move from where we were staying—the town was large, the sociabilities were varied, and the season was favorable for picnics and garden parties.

  At all such festivities my lady was very popular; in fact, she was in demand. Her ingratiating behavior, her refinement, accompanied by a certain natural dignity, drew everyone to her. Moreover, she could play the lute beautifully and sing to her own accompaniment, and she graced all our nocturnal outings with her talents.

  I have to admit that I was never one to enjoy music; in fact, it always impressed me unfavorably. My beautiful beloved had noticed this and therefore never tried to entertain me with music when we were alone. But when we were among people, she seemed to make up for it, in the course of which she attracted many admirers.

  And now, why shouldn’t I admit that, despite my best intentions, our last conversation had not completely satisfied me? I could not throw the thing off; my reaction to it was strange without my actually being conscious of it, until one night, at a large gathering, my suppressed resentment burst forth with dreadful results for me.

  As I look back, I must confess that I did love the charming creature much less after my unfortunate discovery, and now I was jealous of her, something that would never have occurred to me before. That evening at dinner, we were seated diagonally opposite each other and quite far apart. I was feeling very happy between two ladies whom I found most attractive. With jokes and foolish love-talk we were not sparing with the wine. Meanwhile, two music-loving gentlemen had taken possession of my lady and were encouraging the others to sing—solos and in harmony—which didn’t suit me at all. I found the art-loving gentlemen forward, the singing irritated me, and when even I was asked to contribute a solo, I did nothing to hide my bad temper, but drained my glass and slammed it down again on the table, hard.

  My neighbors’ charms soon pacified me somewhat, but anger once aroused is a pernicious thing. It continued to rage within me, although my surroundings should have kept me amused and had a conciliatory effect. But I only felt more vicious when someone brought my beautiful lady a lute, and she sang to her own accompaniment and to everyone’s delight. Unfortunately someone asked for absolute silence. So I wasn’t even to be allowed to talk! Her singing grated on my nerves. No wonder only a small spark was needed to set off an explosion!

  She had just finished a song, the applause was tremendous, and she looked across at me with true affection in her eyes. Unfortunately, her glance failed to touch me. She could see me draining my glass and hear me demand that it be refilled. She shook a warning finger at me lovingly. “Don’t forget that it is wine,” she said, loudly enough for me to hear. “Water is for nixies!” I cried. She turned to the women sitting at my side and said, “Ladies, lace his goblet with your charms so that it isn’t emptied so often.”

  “You’re not going to let yourself be ruled by her, are you?” one of them hissed in my ear, and I cried aloud, “What does my dwarf want of me?” and accompanied my words with such a violent motion of my arm that I knocked over my glass.

  “You have upset much,” my beautiful lady said, and strummed her lute once, as if trying to attract the attention of those present from the disturbance back to herself. And she actually succeeded in doing so, especially when she stood up—which she did as if it were easier for her to play standing—and picked up the interrupted melody.

  When I saw the red wine spill across the cloth, I came to my senses. Realizing what a terrible thing I had done, I was crushed. For the first time, music appealed to me. The first verse she sang was a friendly farewell to the company, who still felt united; with the next they gradually began to disassociate themselves from one another—every man for himself, apart; no one felt present any more. And what can I tell you about the last verse? It was aimed at me alone, the voice of love wounded, bidding farewell to all bad temper and bravado.

  Silently I took her home, expecting the worst, but we had scarcely reached our room when she became very friendly and behaved enchantingly—she was even quite mischievous—and made me the happiest of men.

  Next morning I said cheerfully and lovingly, “You have often sung when asked to do so at a gathering, as for instance last night, that touching farewell ballad. Sing just once for me now, a happy welcome to this morning hour, so that we may feel as if met for the first time.”

  “I cannot do that, my friend,” she said seriously. “The ballad I sang last night was our farewell, and we must part at once. All I can tell you is that your offense against promise and vow has had the most dreadful consequences for both of us. You have frivolously thrown away all your chances of happiness, and I too must deny myself everything I desire.”

  I begged, I implored her to explain herself. “I can do so now,” she said, “since I cannot remain with you any longer. So, hear what I would have liked to keep hidden from you forever! The shape and form in which you saw me in the casket is the way I was born; it is my natural shape. For I am of the race of King Eckwald, mighty prince of all pixies. Authentic history has much to tell of him. My people are still as active as they were in days of old and are therefore easily ruled. But I don’t want you to think that they have remained backward in their activities. They used to be famed for making swords that pursued the enemy when hurled at him, invisible and secretly binding chains, impenetrable shields—things like that. But now they busy themselves mainly with objects that give man comfort and adorn him, and in this they surpass every race on earth. You would be amazed if you were to go through our workshops and storehouses. And all this would be well and good, if a certain condition did not prevail among us—especially in the royal family.” She paused for a moment, and I begged her to go on revealing her miraculous secret.

  “It is well-known fact,” she continued, “that when God created the world, and the earth was dry, and the mountains stood powerful in their glory, He created the pixies first, before all living things—this is what I believe—so that there might be sensible creatures to admire His miracles in the earth’s interior as well, in the caverns and crevasses. It is, moreover, common knowledge that these little people rose up and tried to grasp the dominion of the earth for themselves, and that is why God created the dragons, to subdue the pixies. But since dragons also liked to settle in great caves and fissures, and many of them spat fire and perpetrated other outrages, the pixies were sorely afflicted. They didn’t know what to do. They turned to Almighty God and humbly and beseechingly implored Him to destroy this wicked race of dragons. He could not bring Himself to destroy creatures whom He had created according to His wisdom, but the despair of the pixies touched Him so deeply that He created the giants to fight the dragons—not to destroy them, but to at least decrease their number.

  “But when the giants had more or less done away with the dragons, they too became haughty and presumptuous and began to persecute the pixies. Again the little people turned to God in their need, and He, in His omnipotence, created the knights to fight giants and dragons, and to live in harmony with the pixies. And with that, this aspect of God’s creation was completed, and it came to pass in times to come that giant and dragon always held together, as did knight and pixie. So, you see, my friend, we are one of the oldest races in the world, which is a greater honor but results in quite a few disadvantages. For since on this earth nothing
lasts forever, and all things that once were great must grow small, we too find ourselves diminishing constantly and growing smaller—especially the royal family, which is subject above all others to this fate because of its pure blood. Our sages therefore decided long ago that, from time to time, a princess from the royal house should be sent out into the land to marry an honorable knight, so that the race of pixies might be renewed and not die out completely.”

  My beautiful lady told me all this most sincerely, but I could not help watching her with some suspicion, for it occurred to me that she might be pulling my leg. I didn’t doubt her story insofar as it concerned the fairylike quality of her origin, but that she had chosen me instead of a knight filled me with some distrust. I knew myself too well to believe that any of my ancestors might have been created directly by God. However, I hid my astonishment and doubt and asked amiably, “But tell me, dear child, how did you grow to be so tall and imposing? For I know few women who can equal your magnificent figure.”

  “I shall tell you,” she said. “It was the policy of the pixie kings of old to beware of resorting to any extraordinary measures as long as possible, and I find this a quite natural and reasonable policy. And they might have hesitated much longer before sending a princess out into the land, if my little brother, who was born after me, had not turned out to be so tiny that his nurse lost him in his swaddling clothes, and no one ever found out what had become of him. Nothing like this unique case could be found in the whole annals of our kingdom. The wise men therefore held a conclave and…in short…it was decided to send me out into the world to find a husband.”