"And can you," interrupted Peregrine, "can you explain what that event is which is to awake the power of the talisman?"
The microscopist stared with open eyes at Peregrine, like a person who is suddenly surprised into confusion, and who does not know what to say. The thoughts ran thus: "If I had but held my tongue about the talisman which the unlucky rascal carries within him, and which gives him so much power over us that we must all dance to his pipe!--and now I am to tell him the event on which depends the awaking the strength of his talisman! Shall I confess to him that I don't know myself, that all my art fails to loosen the knot in which the lines meet?--nay, that when I consider the planetary centre of the horoscope, I feel most piteously, and my own learned head seems to me no better than a painted block for periwigs? Far from me be any such confession that would lower me, and put arms into his hands against myself. I will fasten something upon the ideot who fancies himself so wise,--something that shall make his blood run cold, and take from him all farther inclination of teazing me."
"My dearest sir," said the Flea-tamer, putting on a very important face,--"my dearest Mr. Tyss, don't ask me to speak of this event. You know that the horoscope does indeed plainly and perfectly instruct us as to the existence of certain circumstances; but,--such is the wisdom of Eternal Might,--the event of threatening dangers always remains dark and doubtful. I esteem you too highly as an excellent kind-hearted man to put you into disquiet and anxiety before the time; otherwise I should at least tell you so much, that the event which is to give you the consciousness of power, would in the same moment destroy your present form of being with the most horrible agonies of hell. But no! on that too I will be silent; and now not another word of the horoscope. Do not, however, fret yourself, although the affair looks bad enough, and I, with all my knowledge, can hardly see any chance of a favourable issue to the adventure. Perhaps you may be saved from this peril by some unexpected constellation, which is now beyond the reach of observation."
Peregrine was astonished at this deceit, yet still the whole state of the thing, the peculiar situation in which Leuwenhock stood without suspecting it, appeared to him so exceedingly pleasant, that he could not help breaking out into a loud fit of laughter. The microscopist, somewhat surprised at this, asked, "What are you laughing at so vehemently, my dear Mr. Tyss?"
"You do wisely," replied Peregrine, still laughing,--"you do very wisely in keeping secret, out of pure kindness, this threatening event; for besides that you are too much my friend to put me into fear and terror, you have yet another excellent reason for your silence, which is nothing else than that you do not know a syllable about the matter. In vain was all your labour to unriddle that knot; your whole astrology goes but to little; and, if Master Flea had not fallen upon your nose, all your arts would have helped you little."
Leuwenhock's brow was red with rage; he clenched his fist, gnashed his teeth, and trembled so violently with agitation, that he would have tumbled from his seat, if Peregrine had not held him as firmly by the arm as George Pepusch grasped the unlucky taverner by the throat, who at length succeeded in saving himself by a dexterous side-spring. Hereupon George rushed out and entered Leuwenhock's room just as Peregrine was holding him fast upon his seat, while he muttered furiously between his teeth, "Cursed Swammerdamm! is it you that have done this?"
No sooner did Peregrine perceive his friend than he let go of the microscopist, and, going up to him, asked anxiously if that strange frenzy were over which had so dangerously possessed him. Pepusch seemed softened almost to tears, and protested that he had not in all his life committed so many follies as in the course of that one day. Amongst these not the least was, that after he had sent a ball through his head in the forest, he had gone into a tavern,--where he did not know,--had talked to people of strange things, and murderously set upon the host, because, from his broken speech, he gathered that which was the very happiest thing that could befall him. All his paroxysms would now soon have reached the highest pitch, for the bystanders had taken his words for insanity, and he had to fear, instead of reaping the fruit of the happiest event, that he would be confined in a madhouse. With this he explained what the host had let drop concerning Peregrine's conduct and declarations, and asked, with downcast eyes, whether such an act of self-denial, in favour of an unhappy friend, was probable, or even possible, in the present day, when heroism had vanished from the earth.
At these declarations from his companion, Peregrine revived in his inmost heart. He protested with warmth, that for his part he was far removed from doing any thing that might in the least annoy his tried friend; that he solemnly renounced all pretensions to the heart and hand of the fair Dörtje Elverdink, and willingly gave up a paradise, though it had, indeed, opened upon him most seductively.
"And it was you," said Pepusch, rushing into his friend's arms,--"it was you that I would have murdered, and, because I did not believe you, I therefore shot myself. Oh, the madness of a mind ill at ease!"
"I pray you," said Peregrine, "I pray you come to your senses. You speak of having shot yourself, and yet stand fresh and sound before me. How do these things agree?"