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My walks, in which the Argus-eyed Bendel was constantly on the watch
for me, extended only to the garden of the forest-ranger, to enjoy
the society of one who was dear to me as my own existence.

Oh, my Chamisso! I trust thou hast not forgotten what love is! I
must here leave much to thine imagination. Minna was in truth an
amiable and excellent maiden: her whole soul was wrapped up in me,
and in her lowly thoughts of herself she could not imagine how she
had deserved a single thought from me. She returned love for love
with all the full and youthful fervour of an innocent heart; her
love was a true woman's love, with all the devotion and total
absence of selfishness which is found only in woman; she lived but
in me, her whole soul being bound up in mine, regardless what her
own fate might be.

Yet I, alas, during those hours of wretchedness--hours I would even
now gladly recall--how often have I wept on Bendel's bosom, when
after the first mad whirlwind of passion I reflected, with the
keenest self-upbraidings, that I, a shadowless man, had, with cruel
selfishness, practised a wicked deception, and stolen away the pure
and angelic heart of the innocent Minna!

At one moment I resolved to confess all to her; then that I would
fly for ever; then I broke out into a flood of bitter tears, and
consulted Bendel as to the means of meeting her again in the
forester's garden.

At times I flattered myself with great hopes from the near
approaching visit of the unknown; then wept again, because I saw
clearly on reflection that they would end in disappointment. I had
made a calculation of the day fixed on by the fearful being for our
interview; for he had said in a year and a day, and I depended on
his word.

The parents were worthy old people, devoted to their only child; and
our mutual affection was a circumstance so overwhelming that they
knew not how to act. They had never dreamed for a moment that the
Count could bestow a thought on their daughter; but such was the
case--he loved and was beloved. The pride of the mother might not
have led her to consider such an alliance quite impossible, but so
extravagant an idea had never entered the contemplation of the
sounder judgment of the old man. Both were satisfied of the
sincerity of my love, and could but put up prayers to Heaven for the
happiness of their child.

A letter which I received from Minna about that time has just fallen
into my hands. Yes, these are the characters traced by her own
hand. I will transcribe the letter:-

"I am indeed a weak, foolish girl to fancy that the friend I so
tenderly love could give an instant's pain to his poor Minna! Oh
no! thou art so good, so inexpressibly good! But do not
misunderstand me. I will accept no sacrifice at thy hands--none
whatever. Oh heavens! I should hate myself! No; thou hast made me
happy, thou hast taught me to love thee.

"Go, then--let me not forget my destiny--Count Peter belongs not to
me, but to the whole world; and oh! what pride for thy Minna to hear
thy deeds proclaimed, and blessings invoked on thy idolised head!
Ah! when I think of this, I could chide thee that thou shouldst for
one instant forget thy high destiny for the sake of a simple maiden!
Go, then; otherwise the reflection will pierce me. How blest I have
been rendered by thy love! Perhaps, also, I have planted some
flowers in the path of thy life, as I twined them in the wreath
which I presented to thee.

"Go, then--fear not to leave me--you are too deeply seated in my
heart--I shall die inexpressibly happy in thy love."

Conceive how these words pierced my soul, Chamisso!

I declared to her that I was not what I seemed--that, although a
rich, I was an unspeakably miserable man--that a curse was on me,
which must remain a secret, although the only one between us--yet
that I was not without a hope of its being removed--that this
poisoned every hour of my life--that I should plunge her with me
into the abyss--she, the light and joy, the very soul of my
existence. Then she wept because I was unhappy. Oh! Minna was all
love and tenderness. To save me one tear she would gladly have
sacrificed her life.

Yet she was far from comprehending the full meaning of my words.
She still looked upon me as some proscribed prince or illustrious
exile; and her vivid imagination had invested her lover with every
lofty attribute.

One day I said to her, "Minna, the last day in next month will
decide my fate, and perhaps change it for the better; if not, I
would sooner die than render you miserable."

She laid her head on my shoulder to conceal her tears. "Should thy
fate be changed," she said, "I only wish to know that thou art
happy; if thy condition is an unhappy one, I will share it with
thee, and assist thee to support it."

"Minna, Minna!" I exclaimed, "recall those rash words--those mad
words which have escaped thy lips! Didst thou know the misery and
curse--didst thou know who--what--thy lover--Seest thou not, my
Minna, this convulsive shuddering which thrills my whole frame, and
that there is a secret in my breast which you cannot penetrate?"
She sank sobbing at my feet, and renewed her vows and entreaties.

Her father now entered, and I declared to him my intention to
solicit the hand of his daughter on the first day of the month after
the ensuing one. I fixed that time, I told him, because
circumstances might probably occur in the interval materially to
influence my future destiny; but my love for his daughter was
unchangeable.

The good old man started at hearing such words from the mouth of
Count Peter. He fell upon my neck, and rose again in the utmost
confusion for having forgotten himself. Then he began to doubt, to
ponder, and to scrutinise; and spoke of dowry, security, and future
provision for his beloved child. I thanked him for having reminded
me of all this, and told him it was my wish to remain in a country
where I seemed to be beloved, and to lead a life free from anxiety.
I then commissioned him to purchase the finest estate in the
neighbourhood in the name of his daughter--for a father was the best
person to act for his daughter in such a case--and to refer for
payment to me. This occasioned him a good deal of trouble, as a
stranger had everywhere anticipated him; but at last he made a
purchase for about 150,000 pounds.

I confess this was but an innocent artifice to get rid of him, as I
had frequently done before; for it must be confessed that he was
somewhat tedious. The good mother was rather deaf, and not jealous,
like her husband, of the honour of conversing with the Count.

The happy party pressed me to remain with them longer this evening.
I dared not--I had not a moment to lose. I saw the rising moon
streaking the horizon--my hour was come.

Next evening I went again to the forester's garden. I had wrapped
myself closely up in my cloak, slouched my hat over my eyes, and
advanced towards Minna. As she raised her head and looked at me,
she started involuntarily. The apparition of that dreadful night in
which I had been seen without a shadow was now standing distinctly
before me--it was she herself. Had she recognised me? She was
silent and thoughtful. I felt an oppressive load at my heart. I
rose from my seat. She laid her head on my shoulder, still silent
and in tears. I went away.

I now found her frequently weeping. I became more and more
melancholy. Her parents were beyond expression happy. The eventful
day approached, threatening and heavy, like a thundercloud. The
evening preceding arrived. I could scarcely breathe. I had
carefully filled a large chest with gold, and sat down to await the
appointed time--the twelfth hour--it struck.

Now I remained with my eyes fixed on the hand of the clock, counting
the seconds--the minutes--which struck me to the heart like daggers.
I started at every sound--at last daylight appeared. The leaden
hours passed on--morning--evening--night came. Hope was fast fading
away as the hand advanced. It struck eleven--no one appeared--the
last minutes--the first and last stroke of the twelfth hour died
away. I sank back in my bed in an agony of weeping. In the morning
I should, shadowless as I was, claim the hand of my beloved Minna.
A heavy sleep towards daylight closed my eyes.

CHAPTER III.

It was yet early, when I was suddenly awoke by voices in hot dispute
in my antechamber. I listened. Bendel was forbidding Rascal to
enter my room, who swore he would receive no orders from his equals,
and insisted on forcing his way. The faithful Bendel reminded him
that if such words reached his master's ears, he would turn him out
of an excellent place. Rascal threatened to strike him if he
persisted in refusing his entrance.

By this time, having half dressed myself, I angrily threw open the
door, and addressing myself to Rascal, inquired what he meant by
such disgraceful conduct. He drew back a couple of steps, and
coolly answered, "Count Peter, may I beg most respectfully that you
will favour me with a sight of your shadow? The sun is now shining
brightly in the court below."

I stood as if struck by a thunderbolt, and for some time was unable
to speak. At last, I asked him how a servant could dare to behave
so towards his master. He interrupted me by saying, quite coolly,
"A servant may be a very honourable man, and unwilling to serve a
shadowless master--I request my dismissal."

I felt that I must adopt a softer tone, and replied, "But, Rascal,
my good fellow, who can have put such strange ideas into your head?
How can you imagine--"

He again interrupted me in the same tone--"People say you have no
shadow. In short, let me see your shadow, or give me my dismissal."

Bendel, pale and trembling, but more collected than myself, made a
sign to me. I had recourse to the all-powerful influence of gold.
But even gold had lost its power--Rascal threw it at my feet: "From
a shadowless man," he said, "I will take nothing."

Turning his back upon me, and putting on his hat, he then slowly
left the room, whistling a tune. I stood, with Bendel, as if
petrified, gazing after him.

With a deep sigh and a heavy heart I now prepared to keep my
engagement, and to appear in the forester's garden like a criminal
before his judge. I entered by the shady arbour, which had received
the name of Count Peter's arbour, where we had appointed to meet.
The mother advanced with a cheerful air; Minna sat fair and
beautiful as the early snow of autumn reposing on the departing
flowers, soon to be dissolved and lost in the cold stream.

The ranger, with a written paper in his hand, was walking up and
down in an agitated manner, and struggling to suppress his feelings-
-his usually unmoved countenance being one moment flushed, and the
next perfectly pale. He came forward as I entered, and, in a
faltering voice, requested a private conversation with me. The path
by which he requested me to follow him led to an open spot in the
garden, where the sun was shining. I sat down. A long silence
ensued, which even the good woman herself did not venture to break.
The ranger, in an agitated manner, paced up and down with unequal
steps. At last he stood still; and glancing over the paper he held
in his hand, he said, addressing me with a penetrating look,

"Count Peter, do you know one Peter Schlemihl?" I was silent.

"A man," he continued, "of excellent character and extraordinary
endowments."

He paused for an answer.--"And supposing I myself were that very
man?"

"You!" he exclaimed, passionately; "he has lost his shadow!"

"Oh, my suspicion is true!" cried Minna; "I have long known it--he
has no shadow!" And she threw herself into her mother's arms, who,
convulsively clasping her to her bosom, reproached her for having so
long, to her hurt, kept such a secret. But, like the fabled
Arethusa, her tears, as from a fountain, flowed more abundantly, and
her sobs increased at my approach.

"And so," said the ranger fiercely, "you have not scrupled, with
unparalleled shamelessness, to deceive both her and me; and you
pretended to love her, forsooth--her whom you have reduced to the
state in which you now see her. See how she weeps!--Oh, shocking,
shocking!"

By this time I had lost all presence of mind; and I answered,
confusedly, "After all, it is but a shadow, a mere shadow, which a
man can do very well without; and really it is not worth the while
to make all this noise about such a trifle." Feeling the
groundlessness of what I was saying, I ceased, and no one
condescended to reply. At last I added, "What is lost to-day may be
found to-morrow."

"Be pleased, sir," continued the ranger, in great wrath--"be pleased
to explain how you have lost your shadow."

Here again an excuse was ready: "A boor of a fellow," said I, "one
day trod so rudely on my shadow that he tore a large hole in it. I
sent it to be repaired--for gold can do wonders--and yesterday I
expected it home again."

"Very well," answered the ranger. "You are a suitor for my
daughter's hand, and so are others. As a father, I am bound to
provide for her. I will give you three days to seek your shadow.
Return to me in the course of that time with a well-fitted shadow,
and you shall receive a hearty welcome; otherwise, on the fourth
day--remember, on the fourth day--my daughter becomes the wife of
another."

I now attempted to say one word to Minna; but, sobbing more
violently, she clung still closer to her mother, who made a sign for
me to withdraw. I obeyed; and now the world seemed shut out from me
for ever.

Having escaped from the affectionate care of Bendel, I now wandered
wildly through the neighbouring woods and meadows. Drops of anguish
fell from my brow, deep groans burst from my bosom--frenzied despair
raged within me.

I knew not how long this had lasted, when I felt myself seized by
the sleeve on a sunny heath. I stopped, and looking up, beheld the
grey-coated man, who appeared to have run himself out of breath in
pursuing me. He immediately began:

"I had," said he, "appointed this day; but your impatience
anticipated it. All, however, may yet be right. Take my advice--
redeem your shadow, which is at your command, and return immediately
to the ranger's garden, where you will be well received, and all the
past will seem a mere joke. As for Rascal--who has betrayed you in
order to pay his addresses to Minna--leave him to me; he is just a
fit subject for me."

I stood like one in a dream. "This day?" I considered again. He
was right--I had made a mistake of a day. I felt in my bosom for
the purse. He perceived my intention, and drew back.

"No, Count Peter; the purse is in good hands--pray keep it." I
gazed at him with looks of astonishment and inquiry. "I only beg a
trifle as a token of remembrance. Be so good as to sign this
memorandum." On the parchment, which he held out to me, were these
words: --"By virtue of this present, to which I have appended my
signature, I hereby bequeath my soul to the holder, after its
natural separation from my body."

I gazed in mute astonishment alternately at the paper and the grey
unknown. In the meantime he had dipped a new pen in a drop of blood
which was issuing from a scratch in my hand just made by a thorn.
He presented it to me. "Who are you?" at last I exclaimed. "What
can it signify?" he answered; "do you not perceive who I am? A poor
devil--a sort of scholar and philosopher, who obtains but poor
thanks from his friends for his admirable arts, and whose only
amusement on earth consists in his small experiments. But just sign
this; to the right, exactly underneath--Peter Schlemihl."

I shook my head, and replied, "Excuse me, sir; I cannot sign that."

"Cannot!" he exclaimed; "and why not?"

"Because it appears to me a hazardous thing to exchange my soul for
my shadow."

"Hazardous!" he exclaimed, bursting into a loud laugh. "And, pray,
may I be allowed to inquire what sort of a thing your soul is?--have
you ever seen it?--and what do you mean to do with it after your
death? You ought to think yourself fortunate in meeting with a
customer who, during your life, in exchange for this infinitely-
minute quantity, this galvanic principle, this polarised agency, or
whatever other foolish name you may give it, is willing to bestow on
you something substantial--in a word, your own identical shadow, by
virtue of which you will obtain your beloved Minna, and arrive at
the accomplishment of all your wishes; or do you prefer giving up
the poor young girl to the power of that contemptible scoundrel
Rascal ? Nay, you shall behold her with your own eyes. Come here;
I will lend you an invisible cap (he drew something out of his
pocket), and we will enter the ranger's garden unseen."

I must confess that I felt excessively ashamed to be thus laughed at
by the grey stranger. I detested him from the very bottom of my
soul; and I really believe this personal antipathy, more than
principle or previously-formed opinion, restrained me from
purchasing my shadow, much as I stood in need of it, at such an
expense. Besides, the thought was insupportable, of making this
proposed visit in his society. To behold this hateful sneak, this
mocking fiend, place himself between me and my beloved, between our
torn and bleeding hearts, was too revolting an idea to be
entertained for a moment. I considered the past as irrevocable, my
own misery as inevitable; and turning to the grey man, I said, "I
have exchanged my shadow for this very extraordinary purse, and I
have sufficiently repented it. For Heaven's sake, let the
transaction be declared null and void!" He shook his head; and his
countenance assumed an expression of the most sinister cast. I
continued, "I will make no exchange whatever, even for the sake of
my shadow, nor will I sign the paper. It follows, also, that the
incognito visit you propose to me would afford you far more
entertainment than it could possibly give me. Accept my excuses,
therefore; and, since it must be so, let us part."

"I am sorry, Mr. Schlemihl, that you thus obstinately persist in
rejecting my friendly offer. Perhaps, another time, I may be more
fortunate. Farewell! May we shortly meet again! But, a propos,
allow me to show you that I do not undervalue my purchase, but
preserve it carefully."

So saying, he drew my shadow out of his pocket; and shaking it
cleverly out of its folds, he stretched it out at his feet in the
sun--so that he stood between two obedient shadows, his own and
mine, which was compelled to follow and comply with his every
movement.

On again beholding my poor shadow after so long a separation, and
seeing it degraded to so vile a bondage at the very time that I was
so unspeakably in want of it, my heart was ready to burst, and I
wept bitterly. The detested wretch stood exulting over his prey,
and unblushingly renewed his proposal. "One stroke of your pen, and
the unhappy Minna is rescued from the clutches of the villain
Rascal, and transferred to the arms of the high-born Count Peter--
merely a stroke of your pen!"

My tears broke out with renewed violence; but I turned away from
him, and made a sign for him to be gone.

Bendel, whose deep solicitude had induced him to come in search of
me, arrived at this very moment. The good and faithful creature, on
seeing me weeping, and that a shadow (evidently mine) was in the
power of the mysterious unknown, determined to rescue it by force,
should that be necessary; and disdaining to use any finesse, he
desired him directly, and without any disputing, to restore my
property. Instead of a reply, the grey man turned his back on the
worthy fellow, and was making off. But Bendel raised his buck-thorn
stick; and following close upon him, after repeated commands, but in
vain, to restore the shadow, he made him feel the whole force of his
powerful arm. The grey man, as if accustomed to such treatment,
held down his head, slouched his shoulders, and, with soft and
noiseless steps, pursued his way over the heath, carrying with him
my shadow, and also my faithful servant. For a long time I heard
hollow sounds ringing through the waste, until at last they died
away in the distance, and I was again left to solitude and misery.

Alone on the wild heath, I disburdened my heart of an insupportable
load by giving free vent to my tears. But I saw no bounds, no
relief, to my surpassing wretchedness; and I drank in the fresh
poison which the mysterious stranger had poured into my wounds with
a furious avidity. As I retraced in my mind the loved image of my
Minna, and depicted her sweet countenance all pale and in tears,
such as I had beheld her in my late disgrace, the bold and sarcastic
visage of Rascal would ever and anon thrust itself between us. I
hid my face, and fled rapidly over the plains; but the horrible
vision unrelentingly pursued me, till at last I sank breathless on
the ground, and bedewed it with a fresh torrent of tears--and all
this for a shadow!--a shadow which one stroke of the pen would
repurchase. I pondered on the singular proposal, and on my
hesitation to comply with it. My mind was confused--I had lost the
power of judging or comprehending. The day was waning apace. I
satisfied the cravings of hunger with a few wild fruits, and
quenched my thirst at a neighbouring stream. Night came on; I threw
myself down under a tree, and was awoke by the damp morning air from
an uneasy sleep, in which I had fancied myself struggling in the
agonies of death. Bendel had certainly lost all trace of me, and I
was glad of it. I did not wish to return among my fellow-creatures-
-I shunned them as the hunted deer flies before its pursuers. Thus
I passed three melancholy days.

I found myself on the morning of the fourth on a sandy plain,
basking in the rays of the sun, and sitting on a fragment of rock;
for it was sweet to enjoy the genial warmth of which I had so long
been deprived. Despair still preyed on my heart. Suddenly a slight
sound startled me; I looked round, prepared to fly, but saw no one.
On the sunlit sand before me flitted the shadow of a man not unlike
my own; and wandering about alone, it seemed to have lost its
master. This sight powerfully excited me. "Shadow!" thought I,
"art thou in search of thy master? in me thou shalt find him." And
I sprang forward to seize it, fancying that could I succeed in
treading so exactly in its traces as to step in its footmarks, it
would attach itself to me, and in time become accustomed to me, and
follow all my movements.

The shadow, as I moved, took to flight, and I commenced a hot chase
after the airy fugitive, solely excited by the hope of being
delivered from my present dreadful situation; the bare idea inspired
me with fresh strength and vigour.

The shadow now fled towards a distant wood, among whose shades I
must necessarily have lost it. Seeing this, my heart beat wild with
fright, my ardour increased and lent wings to my speed. I was
evidently gaining on the shadow--I came nearer and nearer--I was
within reach of it, when it suddenly stopped and turned towards me.
Like a lion darting on its prey, I made a powerful spring and fell
unexpectedly upon a hard substance. Then followed, from an
invisible hand, the most terrible blows in the ribs that anyone ever
received. The effect of my terror made me endeavour convulsively to
strike and grasp at the unseen object before me. The rapidity of my
motions brought me to the ground, where I lay stretched out with a
man under me, whom I held tight, and who now became visible.

The whole affair was now explained. The man had undoubtedly
possessed the bird's nest which communicates its charm of
invisibility to its possessor, though not equally so to his shadow;
and this nest he had now thrown away. I looked all round, and soon
discovered the shadow of this invisible nest. I sprang towards it,
and was fortunate enough to seize the precious booty, and
immediately became invisible and shadowless.

The moment the man regained his feet he looked all round over the
wide sunny plain to discover his fortunate vanquisher, but could see
neither him nor his shadow, the latter seeming particularly to be
the object of his search: for previous to our encounter he had not
had leisure to observe that I was shadowless, and he could not be
aware of it. Becoming convinced that all traces of me were lost, he
began to tear his hair, and give himself up to all the frenzy of
despair. In the meantime, this newly acquired treasure communicated
to me both the ability and the desire to mix again among mankind.

I was at a loss for a pretext to vindicate this unjust robbery--or,
rather, so deadened had I become, I felt no need of a pretext; and
in order to dissipate every idea of the kind, I hastened on,
regardless of the unhappy man, whose fearful lamentations long
resounded in my ears. Such, at the time, were my impressions of all
the circumstances of this affair.

I now ardently desired to return to the ranger's garden, in order to
ascertain in person the truth of the information communicated by the
odious unknown; but I knew not where I was, until, ascending an
eminence to take a survey of the surrounding country, I perceived,
from its summit, the little town and the gardens almost at my feet.
My heart beat violently, and tears of a nature very different from
those I had lately shed filled my eyes. I should, then, once more
behold her!

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