Master Flea - E. T. A. Hoffmann (thriller novels to read .txt) 📗

“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, sat Leeuwenhoek and Swammerdam, 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 forever!”

Close upon the steps of the throne Dörtje 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. Leeuwenhoek and Swammerdam 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 Dörtje 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, bloodthirsty 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 Swammerdam, wretched Leeuwenhoek, 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 Swammerdam and her little Leeuwenhoek 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 Leeuwenhoek and Swammerdam 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, etc.

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