The Serapion Brethren, Vol. I.

by E. T. A. Hoffmann

Frau Martha came in, and Rosa was delighted to have the opportunity of giving her a circumstantial account of all that had happened in Saint Catherine's Church, and afterwards in the Common Meadow. When she had finished, Martha said, smiling, "Well, Rosa dear, you will soon have to make up your mind which of those three brave wooers you are going to choose."

"What are you talking about, Frau Martha?" Rosa cried; "I haven't got any wooers."

"Come, come," answered Martha, "don't pretend that you don't know what's going on. Anybody who has got eyes, and is not as blind as a mole, sees well enough that all the three, Reinhold, Friedrich, and Conrad, are over head and ears in love with you."

"What an idea!" cried Rosa, hiding her eyes with her hand.

"Come, come," said Martha, sitting down beside her and putting an arm about her; "you bonny bashful child, take your hand away; look me straight in the face, and then deny, if you can, that you have known for many a day that all the three of them are devoted to you, heart and soul! You see that you can't deny it. It would be a miracle if a woman's eye should not see a thing of that sort in an instant. When you come into the workshop, all their eyes turn away from their work, to you, and everything goes on in a different way, three times as swimmingly. Reinhold and Friedrich begin singing their prettiest songs; even that wild fellow Conrad turns quiet and kindly. They all try to get beside you; and fire flashes out of the face of whichever of them has a kind glance or a friendly word from you. Aha! little daughter! you are a very fortunate girl to have three such charming fellows paying attention to you. Whether you will ever choose either of them--and, if so, which--of course I cannot tell, for you are good and nice to them all; though I--but silence as to that! If you were to come to me, and say, 'Frau Martha, give me your advice,' I should freely answer, 'Doesn't your own heart speak out quite clearly and distinctly? Then he is the one. Of course, they're all pretty much alike, to me. I like Reinhold, and I like Friedrich too; and Conrad as well, for the matter of that; and still I have some objections to every one of them. Aye! the fact is, dear Rosa, when I look at those three young fellows at their work, I always think of my dear husband. And I must say, as far as the work which he did went, everything which he did was done in a different style to theirs. There was a swing and a go about it: you saw that his heart was in it; that he wasn't thinking of anything else. But they always seem to unto be doing it for the doing's sake, as if they all had something else at the bottom of their minds all the time; as if the work was a sort of task which they had taken up of their own accords, and were sticking to as well as they could, against the grain. I get on best with Friedrich. He is a nice, straight-forward fellow. He seems more like us, somehow. One understands whatever he says. And what I like about him is, that he loves you in such a silent sort of way, with all the bashfulness of a good child; that he hardly dares to look at you, and blushes whenever you say a word to him."

A tear came to Rosa's eye. She rose, turned to the window, and said: "Yes, I am very fond of Friedrich too; but you mustn't think too little of Reinhold, either."

"How should I?" said Martha; "he's the nicest-looking of them all, by far and away. When he looks one through and through, with his eyes like lightning, one can hardly bear it. Still, there is a something about him so strange and wonderful, that I feel a little inclined to draw back from him in a sort of awe. I think the master must feel, when he is at work in the workshop, as I should if somebody brought a lot of pots and pans all sparkling with gold and jewels into my kitchen, and I had to set to work with them as if they were so many ordinary pots and pans. I shouldn't dare to touch them. He talks, and tells tales, and it all sounds like beautiful music, and carries one away. But when I think seriously about what he has been saying after he has done, I haven't understood a word of it, really. And then, when he will sometimes joke and jest just like one of ourselves, and I think he is only one of us after all, all of a sudden he will look up at one so proudly, and seem such a gentleman, that one feels frightened. It is not that he ever swaggers, as plenty of the young gentlefolks do; it's something quite different. In one word, it strikes me--God forgive me for saying it!--that he must have dealing with higher powers; as if he really belonged to another world altogether, Conrad is a rough, overbearing sort of fellow, but he has something cursedly aristocratic about him, too, which doesn't go a bit well with the cooper's apron; and he goes on as if it were his place to give orders, which everybody else had to obey. In the little time that he has been here, you see he has got so far that even Master Martin himself has to obey him, when he roars at him with that thundering voice of his. But then, at the same time, Conrad is so good-humoured, and so thoroughly straight-forward and honourable, that one can't be vexed with him. In fact I must say that, in spite of his wildness, I like him better than Reinhold, almost; for though he does often speak roughly, yet one always understands what he is saying. I would wager he has once been a soldier, however he may pretend to disguise himself now. That's why he knows so well about weapons, and the knightly exercises, which become him so well. Now tell me, truly and sincerely, Rosa dear, which of them do you like the best?"

"Don't be so crafty with me, Frau Martha," Rosa replied. "One thing is certain--that I don't feel at all as you do about Friedrich. It is quite true that he is of quite a different sort to the others. When he talks, it seems as if some beautiful garden opened upon one, full of lovely flowers, blossoms, and fruit, the like of which are not to be found on earth; but it delights me to look into this garden. And many things strike me quite differently since Reinhold has been here. Many things which were dim and formless in my mind have grown so distinct and clear, that I can see them and understand them perfectly."

Frau Martha got up, and, as she departed, she threatened Rosa with uplifted finger, saying, "Well, Rosa! I suppose Reinhold is to be the one: I never should have dreamt he would have been."

"I beg and pray you, Martha dear, neither dream, nor anticipate anything. Leave it all to the future. What the future brings will be the will of Heaven, and to that we must all submit with resignation."