THE TALES OF HOFFMANN
(Les Contes d'Hoffmann)
One evening during the early years of the last century, a gay company of noisy young students were drinking together in Luther's famous wine-cellar at Nuremberg. They had come in for refreshment between the acts of the Opera which was being performed in the adjacent theatre; and all were merry and ready for any revel which might arise, with the exception of one of their number who sat apart, full of gloom and leaning his head upon his hand, lost to his surroundings in a deep reverie of sad thoughts.
This was Hoffmann, the poet and musician, a man somewhat older than the others—a man who, though blessed with handsome looks, exceptional grace of form and manner, and a fascinating charm of personality, was yet prone to frequent fits of despondency, from which his boon companions had the utmost difficulty in arousing him. Not even his greatest friend, Nicklaus, had the power to call up a smile to pierce through the dark clouds of these gloomy spells; and to no one had he yet related the story of the circumstances that had made him the victim of such an unhappy state of mind.
That he had suffered sorely from the onslaughts of more than one deep love-passion, they were well aware, and also suspected that he had been drawn into the meshes of some weird supernatural influence; but though Nicklaus could have enlightened them—knowing all the circumstances of his friend's life—the young students, in spite of their curiosity, refrained from asking questions which might lose them the friendship of one whom they loved dearly.
OFFENBACH
This evening, however, to their surprise and pleasure, Hoffmann, on being rallied by his companions upon his unusually deep fit of gloom, suddenly roused himself, and offered to tell them the stories of his three unfortunate love episodes; and the students, abandoning the opera for that night, ordered in a fresh bowl of steaming punch and gathered round the handsome Hoffmann, eager to listen to the enthralling tales he had to tell.
In the first story, Hoffmann appeared as an impressionable and sensitive youth in the throes of a first boyish love-passion.
Having several times beheld the dainty form of a beautiful maiden standing at the windows of the house of Spallanzani, a famous physiologist, young Hoffmann became so fascinated by her fair looks that he fell in love with her, and eagerly sought an opportunity for declaring his passion; and, with this object in view, he offered himself as a pupil to the scientist, hoping thus to secure an introduction to the charming young lady whom he believed to be Spallanzani's child, since the latter talked continually of his wonderful "daughter," Olympia, speaking always in enthusiastic terms of her many graces, of her clever singing and dancing, and of the grand party he intended to give very shortly in honour of her coming-out.