Seldwyla Folks: Three Singular Tales

by Gottfried Keller

This became first apparent on the night of his arrival when they took him between themselves in bed. The Suabian demonstrated his entire parity. Like a match he lay within the slim space, so perfectly poised and without the flicker of an eyelid that there actually remained a bit of room, of neutral territory, on either side. And the bed cover remained spread over the trio as tight and smooth as the wrapping paper over three herrings. He was evidently their match. The situation now commenced to be more serious, more complicated, and since all three now faced each other like the three corners of a triangle, and since no friendly or confidential relations were under these circumstances feasible between them, no armistice or courtly tournament, they got into a state of mind where they with malice aforethought, each in his own way and with his own weapons, gently and slily began to try ousting each other out of bed and house.

When the master of the house saw that these three queer customers would put up with anything, if only they were allowed to remain in his service, he first lowered their wages, and next gave them scanter fare. But this only led to an aggravation of diligence on their part, and that again enabled him to flood the whole surrounding district with his goods, and he got orders upon orders, so that he made a pile of money out of their cheap labor and possessed a veritable gold mine in them. He let out his leather belt around the loins by several holes and began to play quite an important part in the town, while all this time his foolish workmen slaved like beasts of burden in their dark and ill-ventilated shop at home, striving, each of them, to force the other two out of the race. Dietrich, the Suabian, although the youngest of them, proved of the same calibre as the other two. The only difference was that he as yet had scarcely any savings, inasmuch as he had not yet traveled around much, having been a prentice until recently. This would have been an unfortunate obstacle for him in the race, for Jobst and Fridolin would have had greatly the start of him, if he as a Suabian had not been inventive in stratagem. For although Dietrich's heart, like that of the others, was wholly bare of any sinful or earthly passion, always excepting the one of persisting to remain in Seldwyla and nowhere else, and to reap all the advantages of that plan, he nevertheless bethought him of the trick of falling in love and to woo such a maiden as should possess about such a dowry in size as the respective treasures which the Saxon or the Bavarian had hidden under their tiles.

It was one of the better peculiarities of the Seldwyla folk that they were averse to wed unattractive or unamiable women just for the sake of a somewhat larger dowry. There was no very great temptation anyway, for wealthy heiresses there were none in their town, either pretty or homely ones, and thus they at least maintained their sturdy and manly independence even by disdaining the smaller mouthfuls, and preferred to unite themselves rather with goodlooking and merry girls, and thus lead for a few years with them at any rate a happy life. Hence it was not hard for the Suabian, spying about for a suitable partner, to find his way into the good graces of a virtuous maiden. She dwelt in the same street, and in conversation with old women he had soon ascertained that she possessed as her own undoubted property a mortgage of seven hundred florins. This maiden was Zues Buenzlin, the twenty-eight-year-old daughter of a washerwoman. She lived with her mother, but could freely dispose of this legacy from her deceased father. This valuable bit of paper she kept in a highly varnished trunk. There, too, she had the accumulated interest money, her baptismal certificate, her testimonial of confirmation, and a painted and gilt Easter egg; in addition to all this she preserved there half a dozen silver spoons, the Lord's Prayer printed in gold letters upon transparent glass, although she believed the material to be human skin, a cherry stone into which was carved the Passion of Christ, and a small box of ivory, lined with red satin, and in which were concealed a tiny mirror and a silver thimble; there was also in it another cherry stone in which you could hear clattering a diminutive set of ninepins, a nutshell in which a madonna became visible behind glass, a silver heart, in a hollow of which was a scent bottle, and a candy box fashioned out of dried lemon peel, on the cover of which was painted a strawberry, and in which there might be discovered a golden pin displayed on a couch of cotton wool representing a forget-me-not, and a locket showing on the inside a monument woven out of hair; lastly, a bundle of age-yellowed papers with recipes, secrets, and so forth; also a small flask of Cologne water, another holding stomach drops, a box of musk, another with marten excrements, and a small basket woven out of odoriferous grasses, another of beads and cloves, and then a small book bound in sky-blue silk and entitled "Golden Life Rules for the Maiden as Betrothed, Wife and Mother"; and a dream book, a letter writer, five or six love letters, and a lancet for use to let blood. This last piece came from a barber and assistant surgeon to whom she had once been engaged, and since she was a naturally skillful and very sensible person she had learned from her fiancé how to open a vein, to put on leeches, and similar things, and had even been able to shave him herself. But alas, he had proved an unworthy object of her affections, with whom she might easily have risked her temporal and heavenly welfare, and thus she had with saddened but wise resolution broken the engagement. Gifts were returned on both sides, with the exception of the lancet. This she kept in pawn as pledge for one florin and eight and forty stuyvers, which sum she on one occasion had lent him in cash. The unworthy one claimed, however, that she had no right to it since she had given him the money on the occasion of a ball, in order to defray joint expenses, and he added that she had eaten twice as much as himself. Thus it happened that he kept the florin and forty-eight stuyvers, while she kept the surgical appliance, with which Zues operated extensively among her female acquaintance and earned many a penny. But every time she used the instrument she could not help mentioning the low habits of him who had once stood so close to her and who had almost become her partner for life.

All these things were locked up in that trunk, and the trunk again was kept in a large walnut wardrobe, the key to which Zues had constantly in her pocket. As to her person, Zues had rather sparse reddish hair as well as clear pale-blue eyes; these now and then possessed some charm, and then would throw glances both wise and gentle. She owned an enormous store of clothes, but of these she only wore the oldest. However, she was always carefully and cleanly dressed, and just as neat was the appearance of her room. She was very industrious and helped her mother in her laundry work, ironing out the finer and more delicate fabrics and washing the lace caps and the jabots of the wealthier Seldwyla ladies, thus earning quite a bit. And it may be that it was due to this sort of activity that Zues always exhibited the peculiar stern and dignified bent of mind which women show when they are dealing with laundry work, especially with the work over the tub. For Zues never unbent at all until the ironing began. Then, it might be, a species of sedate cheerfulness would seize upon her, in her case, however, invariably spiced with words of wisdom. This sedate spirit, too, was recognizable in the chief decorative piece on the premises, namely, a garland of soap cakes, square, accurately gauged cakes, which encircled the large living room on shelves. The soap was thus exposed to the warm air currents in order to harden and become fitter for use. And it was Zues herself who always cut out the cakes by means of a brass wire. The wire had fastened to it at either end two small wooden knobs so one could seize them there for a more commodious cutting of the soft soap. But a fine pair of compasses used in dividing the soap in equal sections was also there. This instrument had been made for her and presented as a valued gift by a journeyman mechanician with whom she had at one time been as good as engaged. From him, too, came a gleaming small brass mortar for the pulverization of spices. This decorated the edge of her cupboard, right between the blue china tea can and the painted flower vase. For long such a dainty little mortar had been her special desire, and the attentive mechanician was therefore extremely welcome when he appeared one afternoon on her birthday and likewise brought along something to put the mortar to its legitimate use: a boxful of cinnamon, lump sugar, cloves and pepper. The mortar itself he hung, before entering at the door, by one of its handles to his little finger, and with the pestle he started a gay tinkling, just like a bell, so that out of the adventure grew a jolly day of festivity. However, shortly afterwards the false scoundrel fled from the district, and was never heard of more. Besides that, his master even demanded the return of the mortar, since the fugitive had taken it from his shop, but had forgotten to pay for it. But Zues did not deliver up this valuable object. On the contrary, she went to law for its undisputed possession, and in court she defended her claim valiantly, basing her rights on the fact that she had washed, starched and ironed a set of "dickies" for the vanished lover. Those days, the days when she was forced to defend her rights to the mortar in open court, were the most conspicuous and painful of her whole life, since she with her deep feelings felt these things and more particularly her appearance in court for the sake of such delicate affairs much more keenly than others of a lighter disposition would have done. All the same she scored a victory and kept her mortar.

If, however, this neat soap gallery proclaimed her exact working tactics and her passion for toil, a row of books, arranged in orderly fashion on the window ledge, did honor to her religious and disciplined mind. These books were of a miscellaneous description, and she read and reread them studiously on Sundays. She still possessed all her school books, never having lost a single one of them. She also still carried in her head all her little stock of scholastic learning acquired at school; she knew the whole catechism by heart, as well as the contents of the grammar, of the arithmetic, of her geography book, of the collection of biblical stories, and of the various readers and spellers. Then she also owned some of the pretty tales by Christoph Schmid and the latter's short novelettes, with handsome verses at the end, at least a half dozen of sundry treasuries of poetry and gatherings of popular fairy tales, a number of almanacs full of specimens of homely wisdom and practical experience, several precise and remarkable prophecies of tremendous events to come, a guide for laying the cards, a book of edification for every day of the year intended for the use of thoughtful virgins, and an old and slightly damaged copy of Schiller's "The Robbers," which she slowly perused again and again, as often as she feared she might begin to forget this stirring drama. And each time she read it, the play appealed to her sentimental heart anew, so that she made constant references to it and commented in a highly praiseworthy manner on the various personages presented in it. And really all there was in these books she also retained in her memory, and understood exceedingly well how to speak about them and about many other things as well. When she felt cheerful and contented and did not have to hasten her labors too greatly, speech flowed continuously from her lips, and everything under the sun she knew how to judge and to put into its proper category. Young and old, high and low, learned and unlearned, they all were compelled to listen and to receive instruction from her. First, she would hear everybody out, meanwhile smilingly and sensibly straightening out the case in her wise little head. And then, having now perceived whither all these plaints or fears tended, she would solve the more or less knotty problem at a stroke. Sometimes she would speak so unctuously and elaborately on matters that irreverent criticasters had compared her to learned blind persons who have never had sight of the world and whose sole solace it is to hear themselves talk.

From the time she went to the town school and from her lessons of instruction before she was confirmed by the pastor, she had retained the habit of composing, from time to time, essays and exercises, and thus it was that she would, on quiet Sundays, laboriously write out the most marvelous compositions. One of her favorite methods in doing this was to seize upon some melodious title that she had heard of or read in the course of the week, and taking this, so to speak, as her text, would proceed to pile up from it the most wonderful conclusions and deductions, not infrequently culminating in very odd or nonsensical dicta. Page on page of this balderdash she would perpetrate, just as it issued from the convolutions of her silly brain. Such themes, for example, as "The Various Beneficent Uses of a Sickbed," "About Death," "About the Wholesomeness of Resignation," "About the Giant Size of the World," "About the Secrets of Life Eternal," "About Residence in the Country," "About Nature," "About Dreams," "About Love," "About Redemption and Christ," "Three Points in the Theory of Self-Justification," "Thoughts about Immortality," she often solved in her own easy way. Then she would read aloud to her friends and admirers these productions, and it was a supreme proof of her special regard and affection for her to present one or the other of them to a close friend. Such gifts, she insisted on, had to be placed within the pages of a Bible, that is, if the recipient happened to have one.

This leaning of Zues' nature towards religious ecstasy and contemplation had once gained her the profound and respectful affection of a young bookbinder, a man who read every book he bound and who was, besides, both ambitious and enthusiastic. Whenever he brought his bundle of soiled linen to Zues' mother, he deemed himself to be in paradise, for he swallowed greedily all of the maiden's thoughts, and her boldest figures of speech now and then, he shyly said, would remind him of things he had dared to think himself, but which he had never had the skill and the courage to frame into words. Bashfully and humbly he approached this talented virgin, who was by turns severe and eloquent, and she deigned to suffer this modest intercourse and held him in leading-strings for a whole year, not, however, without making the hopelessness of his suit plain to him, gently but determinedly. For inasmuch as he was nine years her junior, poor as a church mouse and awkward in gaining a living, men of his calling not being in clover in Seldwyla anyhow, since people there do not read much and, consequently, have few books to bind, she never for a moment hid from herself the impossibility of a union. She merely found it pleasant to develop his mind and character and to furnish her own as a model to strive after. Her own powers of resignation were all the time for him to take pattern by, and so she embalmed his aspirations in an iridescent cloud of phrases. And he on his part would listen modestly, and once or twice find heart to risk a beautiful sentence himself. This she invariably answered by instantly killing his observation with a finer one. That year, when she calmly received the adoration of this youth, was reckoned by her the most ethereal and noblest of her existence, since it was not disturbed by a single breath from the lower and material spheres, and the young man during it bound anew all her books, and with infinite pains wrought night after night toward the ultimate completion of an artful and precious monument of his adoration for her. This was, to be plain, a huge Chinese temple of pasteboard, containing innumerable tiny compartments and secret receptacles, and which might be entirely taken apart and reconstructed on following carefully previous instructions. This miracle was pasted all over with the finest samples of varicolored and glazed paper, and everywhere ornamented with gilt borders. Minute mirrors inside colonnaded halls of state reflected the gay colors, and by removing one section of the structure or opening another one there were more mirrors and hidden pictures, nosegays of paper or loving couples. The curving or shelving roofs were everywhere hung with little bells. Even a small stand for a lady's watch was there, with hooks to hang it up on and with other hooks to trail a slender meandering chain through. Only up to now no watchmaker had yet offered a pretty watch or a chain to decorate this altar with. An enormous deal of trouble and skill had been wasted on this pasteboard temple, and its ground plan was just as correct as the work itself. And when this monument of a year passed jointly so pleasantly had been duly accepted, Zues Buenzlin encouraged the good bookbinder, doing violence to her own well-regulated heart, to tear himself away from the town and to set once more his staff for a wandering life. She pointed out with perfect justice that the whole world stood open to him, and she assured him that now, having schooled and ennobled his heart by improving his acquaintance with herself, happiness elsewhere would certainly be in store for him. She would never forget him and retire into solitude. And indeed, the young fellow was so much affected by these moral exhortations that he shed a few melancholy tears in passing the town gate on his way. His masterpiece, however, since stood on top of Zues' old-fashioned clothes press, daintily covered by a veil of green gauze, thus defying dust and profane gaze. She considered it so much of a sacred relic that she kept it intact and without even placing anything whatever into those many tiny recesses of the temple. In her memory he continued to live as "Emmanuel," although his real name had been Veit. And she told everyone with whom she discussed the case that Emmanuel alone had completely understood her inner self. This she said now that he was gone, but while he had been with her in the flesh she had been of different opinion, for she had rarely admitted to him that he was right, deeming it wiser to thus urge him on to higher and ever higher endeavor in his search of a perfect agreement of mind with his idol. Indeed, she had more than once intimated to him, at times when he hoped he had at last fully entered the arcana of her soul, that he was farther and farther from it.

But he, too, Veit-Emmanuel, played her a little trick. He had placed in a false bottom, in one of the diminutive apartments of his pasteboard fairy palace, the most touching of all love letters, bedewed with his tears, wherein he confessed his bitter grief at parting from her, his love, his worship and his sublime steadfastness, and in such passionate and sincere terms had he done this as only genuine feeling can find, even if it has lost itself in a cul-de-sac. Such touching, such moving things he had never said to her, simply because she never would give him the chance, having always interrupted him when he was on the point of doing so. But as she had not the slightest suspicion that any such document had been put away within the temple, she never found the missive and thus fate for once dealt justly and did not let a false beauty see that which she was not worthy of. And it was also a symbol that she it was who had not fathomed the somewhat silly, but devoted and sincere heart of the youth.

For a long while she had been praising the doings of the three combmakers, and had called them three decent and sensible men; for she had closely observed them. When, therefore, Dietrich, the Suabian, began to linger longer and longer in her dwelling when bringing or fetching his shirt, and to pay court to her, she treated him in a friendly manner and kept him near her for hours by means of her lofty conversation. And Dietrich talked back, of course, to please her, just as much as he could; and she was one of the kind that could stand more than a fair measure of laudation. Indeed, one might truthfully say that she liked it all the more the more spiced and peppered it was. When praising her wisdom and kindness, she kept still as a mouse, until there was no more of it, whereupon she would with heightened color pick up the thread where it had been dropped, and would touch up the painting in those spots where it seemed to require a trifle of additional color. And Dietrich had not been going back and forth in her house for any great length of time when she showed him that mortgage of hers, and he thereupon began to exude a quiet, sedate species of self-satisfaction, and began to behave toward his rivals with such stealth as though he had invented the perpetuum mobile. Jobst and Fridolin, however, soon unearthed his secret, and they were amazed at the depth of his dissimulation and at his cleverness. Jobst above all clutched his hair and tore out a good handful of it; for had he himself not been going to the same house for a long while, and had it ever occurred to him to look for anything there but his clean linen? Rather, he had hitherto almost hated the washerwomen because he had been forced to dig up a few stuyvers every week to pay them. Never had he thought of marriage, because he was unable to conceive of a wife under any other aspect than that of a being that wanted something out of him which he did not deem her due, and to expect something from such a feminine creature that might be of advantage to him had never entered his thoughts, since he had confidence only in himself, and his calculations had so far never gone beyond the narrowest horizon, that of his secret. But now reflecting deep and serious he reached the determination to outdo this sly little Suabian, for if the latter should really succeed in getting hold of Dame Zues' seven hundred florins, he might become a keen competitor. The seven hundred florins, too, suddenly shone and glittered very differently, in the eyes both of the Saxon and of the Bavarian. Thus it was that Dietrich, the man of invention, had discovered a land which soon became the joint property of the three, and thus shared the hard lot of all discoverers, for the two others at once got on the same track and likewise became steady callers on Zues Buenzlin. She therefore saw herself surrounded by a whole court of decent and respectable combmakers. That she relished greatly; never before had she had a number of admirers at one time. It became a novel entertainment for her shrewd mind to handle these three with the greatest impartiality and skill, to keep them at all times within bounds and cool reason, and to thus influence them by frequent speeches in favor of the beauties of resignation and unselfishness until Heaven itself should by some act of intervention decide matters irrevocably.

As each of the three had confided to her his secret and his plans, she immediately made up her mind to render happy that one who really would attain his goal and become owner of the business. And in thus deciding in her own heart how she should proceed, she from that hour on deliberately excluded the Suabian, since he could not succeed except through and by her money. But while thus actually discarding the Suabian as a possible candidate for her hand, she reflected that, after all, he was the youngest, handsomest and most amiable of the trio, and thus she would spare for him many a token of regard and confidence, and lull him into the belief that his chances were the best. But while so doing, she knew how to arouse the jealousy of the other two, and thus spur them on to greater zeal. And so it came to pass that Dietrich, this poor Columbus who had first sighted and nearly taken possession of the pretty land, became nothing but a mere pawn in her game, nothing but the poor fool who unconsciously assisted in the angling for the real fish. Meanwhile all three of them assiduously wooed and courted the coy maiden, running a close race in the difficult art of showing all the time devotion, modesty and sense, while being kept by the bridle. She on her part was in her element, for she forever told them to be unselfish and to practice resignation. When the whole four now and then happened to be together, they made the impression of a singular conventicle where the queerest remarks were being expressed. And despite of all their timidity and humility it would happen once in a while that one of the three, suddenly dropping his hosannahs in praise of the rare gifts and virtues of the maiden, would plunge into a measure of self-laudation. At such moments it was edifying and truly touching to see Zues gently interrupt the rash one and chide him for his breach of good manners. She would then shame him by forcing him to listen to a homily on his rivals.