The Lost Manuscript: A Novel

by Gustav Freytag

"But it is not true," answered the Professor, as he explained the matter to her. "The Greeks had Satyrs, the Romans Fauns. The gentleman with the goat's foot is called Pan. But how did this Bacchanalian train get into your household?"

"You said yesterday that the Councillor of the Consistory had a Faun's face. Then the question arose what is a Faun's face, and what is a Faun? Laura remembered perfectly having learnt at school that he was a fabulous creature of the Romans, and she brought the book in which these creatures are portrayed. What a wild set they are! Why have they pointed ears like the deer, and what have you to say, if even in such things one cannot rely on your books?"

"Come here," said Felix, "and I will soon introduce you to the whole company." He selected a book of engravings and showed her the figures of the whole train of Bacchus. For a time the instruction went on well; but then Ilse objected, saying: "They all have very few clothes on."

"Art cares more for the body than for dress," said her husband.

But Ilse at last became uneasy; she closed the book and exclaimed, coloring; "I must go; my help is needed in the kitchen to-day, as a new pudding has to be made. That is my high school, and the servant is still a novice." She hastened out. Once more popping her head through the door, she exclaimed, "Tell your Satyrs and Fauns that I had a better opinion of them; they are very immodest."

"They are indeed," exclaimed Felix, "and they make no pretensions to being otherwise."

At dinner, when Felix had sufficiently admired the pudding. Ilse, laying down her spoon, said seriously: "Do not show me such pictures again. I would like to love your heathens, but I cannot if they are like that."

"They are not all so bad," said her husband, consolingly; "if you like, we will this evening pay a visit to some of the notables of antiquity."

With this day Ilse began a new period of learning. Soon a fixed hour was arranged for her husband's explanations--the most valuable part of the day to Ilse. First the Professor gave her a short description of the great civilized nations of antiquity and the middle ages, and wrote down a few names and dates for her that she learnt by heart. He pointed out to her that the whole life of man was, in fact, nothing but an unceasing receiving, transforming, and giving forth of the materials, pictures, and impressions presented by the surrounding world; that the whole intellectual development of man is, in fact, nothing but an earnest and reverent search after truth; and that the whole of political history is, in fact, nothing but the gradual subduing of that egotism which produces disunion between men and nations, by the creation of new wants, the increase of a feeling of duty and the growth of love and respect for all mankind.

After this preparation the Professor began to read the Odyssey aloud to her, adding short explanations. Never had poetry so grand and pure an influence upon her soul; the lively legendary style of the first part and the powerful development of the second quite captivated her heart. The characters became almost like living forms to her; she wandered, suffered, and triumphed with them--raised into a new world of more beautiful images and higher feelings. Then when the conclusion came and the long-suffering Ulysses sat opposite to his wife, the bold touches of the scene of recognition struck a secret chord in the heart of the young wife. Deep was the impression. She sat near her beloved husband, her cheeks suffused with blushes, her eyes moist with tears and modestly cast down; and when he ended she clasped her white arms round his neck and sank on his breast, lost in transport and emotion. Her soul woke up, as it were, from long repose and glowed with deep feeling. The immortal beauties of this poem cast a radiance over every hour of the day, over her language, nay, over her bearing. She took pleasure in trying to read aloud herself, and the Professor listened with heartfelt pleasure as the majestic verses rolled melodiously from her lips, and as she unconsciously imitated his mode of speech and the modulations of his voice. When in the morning he went to his lecture and she helped him to put on his brown duffel overcoat he was greeted with the pleasant rhythm of this hexameter: