Whoever may have seen a trick writing desk made by Röntgen,1 with springs and secret drawers that can be set in motion, whereupon writing space, paper, letters, pigeonholes, and money compartment are revealed, all at once or one at a time, will have some idea of how this palace unfolded before our eyes. My sweet companion now drew me into it behind her. In the main hall I at once recognized the fireplace I had looked down on and the chair she had sat in, and when I looked up, I thought I could actually see traces of the crack in the dome through which I had peered. I will spare you a detailed description of the rest. Suffice it to say it was roomy, priceless, and in excellent taste. I had scarcely recovered from my amazement when I could hear martial music in the distance.
My beautiful lady jumped joyfully to her feet and announced that her father was approaching the palace. We stepped outside and could see a glittering procession emerge from an imposing crevasse in the rocks. Soldiers, servants, household officials, and a whole brilliant court followed, one behind the other. Finally there came a golden multitude, and in its midst, the king himself. When everyone was assembled before the palace, the king stepped forward and approached it with his retinue. His loving daughter hurried to meet him, pulling me along with her; we threw ourselves at his feet, he raised me graciously, and I noticed only when I came to stand next to him that I was better built than anyone else in this little world. We walked up to the palace together, and in a studied speech, the king did me the honor of welcoming me before the entire court. He expressed his astonishment at finding us here, recognized me as his future son-in-law, and set the following day for the wedding.
I can’t tell you how horrified I was suddenly to hear mention of a wedding, for I had always been almost more afraid of marriage than of music. Those who make music, I used to say, at least enjoy the illusion that they are in unison and that the overall effect is harmony, because after they have allowed themselves sufficient time to tune up and have massacred our eardrums with all sorts of discordant sounds, they think that now they are in tune and the various instruments are perfectly suited to one another. The conductor himself suffers from this delusion, and they’re off, while the listener’s ears are screaming!
But in marriage, not even this applies, because although it is nothing but a duet, and one would think that it should be possible to bring two voices—that is to say, two instruments—in harmony, still, it rarely happens. For, if the man gives the pitch, the woman usually wants it higher; then the man raises it again; and this goes on and on, from normal pitch to concert pitch, until in the end even the horns can’t follow! And, since I couldn’t bear harmonic music, you can’t blame me for hating discord even more.
I don’t want to speak of the festivities that took place next day; in fact, I can’t speak of them because I paid them so little heed. The magnificent food, the priceless wine—nothing tasted right to me. I was considering what I should do. But there wasn’t much to consider. I decided to escape and hide somewhere when night fell and actually succeeded in finding my way to a fissure in the rocks and squeezing through it, concealing myself as best I could. My first efforts were bent toward getting that cursed ring off my finger, but I couldn’t do it however hard I tried. On the contrary, I could feel it contracting the minute I tried to get it off, causing me great pain—which stopped immediately, however, as soon as I desisted in my efforts.
Early in the morning I awoke, the little that was left of me having slept very well, and wanted to move farther away, when something that felt like rain fell on me from above. It was falling through grass, leaves, and flowers, something akin to sand or grit, quantities of it, and I was horrified when everything around me suddenly came to life and a huge army of ants came hurtling down upon me. They saw me and at once attacked from all sides.
Although I put up a brave defense, in the end they succeeded in covering, pinching, and tormenting me until I was thankful when someone called out to me to surrender, which I did promptly, whereupon an impressive-looking ant approached me most courteously—I would go so far as to say reverently—and begged for my good will. I learned that the ants were now my father-in-law’s allies, that he had called upon them to bring me back, and that they were in duty bound to do so. So there I was, small, in the hands of creatures even smaller than I. There was no escaping the wedding, and I could only thank God that my father-in-law was not angry with me, and my beautiful lady not vexed.
Let me remain silent about the ceremony; let it suffice to say that we were married. I was surrounded by gaiety and mirth, but in spite of this, there were lonely hours that were conducive to thought. And now something took place that had never happened to me before. Let me tell you about it.
Everything around me was perfectly matched to my present size and needs. Flacons and goblets were beautifully proportioned for a tiny drinker—as a matter of fact they were better proportioned than ours. Everything I ate tasted wonderful, my wife’s kisses were adorable, and I won’t deny that the novelty of the situation made it very enjoyable. Unfortunately, I could not forget my former condition.
I discovered within myself the measure of my former size, and it made me restless and unhappy. For the first time, I could grasp what philosophers mean when they speak of the ideal that is supposed to cause mankind so much suffering. I had an ideal of myself and at times saw myself in my dreams as a giant. In short, wife, wedding ring, the shape of a pixie, and many other constrictions served only to make me utterly miserable, and I began to think seriously about extricating myself.
Since I was sure that the whole spell was contained in the ring, I decided to file it off. Toward this end I stole several files from the court jeweler. Fortunately I was left-handed, and had never done anything with my right hand in my life. I worked hard, but it was not easy, for the little gold band—although it looked thin—had grown thicker in proportion to the amount it had shrunk from its original size. I spent every spare hour on the project and was clever enough to step outdoors when the metal was almost split. And a good thing I did, for the golden band suddenly burst from my finger, and my figure shot up with such velocity that I was afraid it might reach heaven! At any rate, I certainly would have rammed through the dome of the palace and destroyed the whole building with my newborn clumsiness.
So there I stood, alone again, only much bigger and—it seemed to me—much more stupid and awkward, and when I had recovered from my stupor, I saw the casket standing at my side. I lifted it and found that it was heavy as I carried it down the footpath to the station, where I immediately ordered the horses harnessed and drove off. As we drove away, I tried the moneybags on either side.
The money seemed to be spent; instead, I found a small key. It belonged to the casket, which contained a considerable replenishment. As long as it lasted, I used the carriage, which I then sold and continued my journey by stagecoach. I rid myself of the casket last because I was always hoping that it might be filled again. And so I finally arrived, although in a roundabout fashion, back in the kitchen where you first met me.
Notes
1 David R. Röntgen (1745–1807) was a fine cabinetmaker in Neuwied, whom Goethe probably met on his Rhine journey with Lavater.
The End
