 Part one of The Sandman in Weird Tales Volume 1 by E. T. A. Hoffman, translated by J. T. Bielby. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Thomas Copeland. The Sandman. Note. The Sandman forms the first of a series of tales called The Night Pieces and was published in 1817. Return to text. Nathaniel to Lothere. I know you are all very uneasy because I have not written for such a long, long time. Mother, to be sure, is angry. And Clara, I dare say, believes I am living here in riot and revelry. And quite forgetting my sweet angel whose image is so deeply engraved upon my heart and mind. But that is not so. Daily and hourly do I think of you all. And my lovely Clara's form comes to gladden me in my dreams and smiles upon me with her bright eyes as graciously as she used to do in the days when I went in and out amongst you. Oh, how could I write to you in the distracted state of mind in which I have been and which until now has quite bewildered me. A terrible thing has happened to me. Dark forebodings of some awful fate threatening me are spreading themselves out over my head like black clouds impenetrable to every friendly ray of sunlight. And I must now tell you what has taken place. I must. That I see well enough. But only to think upon it makes the wild laughter burst from my lips. Oh, my dear, dear Lothere, what shall I say? To make you feel, if only in an inadequate way, that which happened to me a few days ago could thus really exercise such a hostile and disturbing influence upon my life. Oh, that you were here to see for yourself. But now you will, I suppose, take me for a superstitious ghost seer. In a word, the terrible thing which I have experienced, the fatal effect of which I in vain exert every effort to shake off, is simply that some days ago, namely on the 30th of October at 12 o'clock at noon, a dealer in weather glasses came into my room and wanted to sell me one of his wares. I bought nothing and threatened to kick him downstairs, whereupon he went away of his own accord. You will conclude that it can only be very peculiar relations, relations intimately intertwined with my life, that can give significance to this event, and that it must be the person of this unfortunate hawker which has had such a very inimical effect upon me. And so it really is. I will summon up all my faculties in order to narrate to you calmly and patiently, as much of the early days of my youth as will suffice to put matters before you, in such a way that your keen, sharp intellect may grasp everything clearly and distinctly in bright and living pictures. Just as I am beginning I hear you laugh and Clara say, what's all this childish nonsense about? Well, laugh at me, laugh heartily at me, pray, do. But good God, my hair is standing on end, and I seem to be entreating you to laugh at me in the same sort of frantic despair in which Franz Muhr entreated Daniel to laugh him to score. Note. C. Schiller's Reuber Act 5, scene one. Franz Muhr, seeing that the failure of all his villager schemes is inevitable and that his own ruin is close upon him, is at length overwhelmed with the madness of despair and unburdens the terrors of his conscience to the old servant Daniel, hitting him laugh him to score. Return to text. But to my story. Except at dinner, we, i.e. I and my brothers and sisters, saw but little of our father all day long. His business, no doubt, took up most of his time. After our evening meal, which in accordance with an old custom was served at seven o'clock, we all went mother with us into father's room and took our places around, around the table. My father smoked his pipe, drinking a large glass of beer to it. Often he told us many wonderful stories and got so excited over them that his pipe always went out. I used then to light it for him with a spill, and this formed my chief amusement. Often again, he would give us picture books to look at whilst he sat silent and motionless in his easy chair, puffing out such dense clouds of smoke that we were all, as it were, enveloped in mist. On such evenings, mother was very sad, and directly at start nine, she said, come, children, off to bed. Come, the sandman has come, I see. And I always did seem to hear something trampling upstairs with slow, heavy steps. That must be the sandman. Once in particular, I was very much frightened at this dull trampling and knocking. As mother was leading us out of the room, I asked her, oh, ma, but who is this nasty sandman who always sends us away from papa? What does he look like? There is no sandman, my dear child, mother answered. When I say the sandman has come, I only mean that you are sleepy and can't keep your eyes open, as if somebody put sand in them. This answer of mother's did not satisfy me. Nay, in my childish mind, the thought clearly unfolded itself that mother denied there was a sandman only to prevent us being afraid. Why, I always heard him come upstairs. Full of curiosity to learn something more about this sandman and what he had to do with us children, I at length asked the old woman who acted as my youngest sister's attendant, what sort of a man he was, the sandman. Well, then you'll die. Don't you know, she replied. Oh, he's a wicked man who comes to little children when they won't go to bed and throws handfuls of sand in their eyes so that they jump out of their heads all bloody. And he puts them into a bag and takes them to the half moon as food for his little ones. And they sit there in the nest and have cooked beats like owls. And they pick naughty little boys and girls eyes out with them. After this, I formed in my own mind a horrible picture of the cruel sandman. When anything came blundering upstairs at night, I trembled with fear and dismay and all that my mother could get out of me with the stammered words, the sandman, the sandman, whilst the tears coursed down my cheeks. Then I ran into my bedroom and the whole night through tormented myself with the terrible apparition of the sandman. I was quite old enough to perceive that the old woman's tale about the sandman and his little ones nest in the half moon couldn't be all together true. Nevertheless, the sandman continued to be for me a fearful incubus. And I was always seized with terror. My blood always ran cold, not only when I heard anybody come up the stairs, but when I heard anybody noisily open my father's room door and go in. Often he stayed away for a long season altogether. Then he would come several times in close succession. This went on for years without my being able to accustom myself to this fearful apparition, without the image of the horrible sandman growing any fainter in my imagination. His intercourse with my father began to occupy my fancy evermore and more. I was restrained from asking my father about him by an unconquerable shyness. But as the years went on, the desire waxed stronger and stronger within me to fathom the mystery myself and to see the fabulous sandman. He had been the means of disclosing to me the path of the wonderful and the adventurous, which so easily find lodgement in the mind of the child. I liked nothing better than to hear or read horrible stories of goblins, witches, tom thumbs, and so on. But always at the head of the mall stood the sandman whose picture I scribbled in the most extraordinary and repulsive forms with both chalk and coal everywhere on the tables and cupboard doors and walls. When I was 10 years old, my mother removed me from the nursery into a little chamber off the court or not far from my father's room. We still had to withdraw hastily whenever on the stroke of nine the mysterious unknown was heard in the house. As I lay in my little chamber, I could hear and go into my father's room. And soon afterwards I fancied there was a fine and peculiar smelling steam spreading itself into the house. As my curiosity waxed stronger, my resolve to make somehow or other the sandman's acquaintance took deeper root. Often when my mother had gone past, I slipped quickly out of my room into the corridor. But I could never see anything for always before I could reach the place where I could get sight of him. The sandman was well inside the door. At last, unable to resist the impulse any longer, I determined to conceal myself in father's room and there wait for the sandman. One evening I perceived from my father's silence and mother's sadness that the sandman would calm. Accordingly, pleading that I was excessively tired, I left the room before nine o'clock and concealed myself in a hiding place close beside the door. The street door creaked and slow heavy echoing steps crossed the passage towards the stairs. Mother hurried past me with my brothers and sisters. Softly, softly, I opened father's room door. He sat as usual, silent and motionless with his back towards it. He did not hear me. And in a moment I was in and behind a curtain drawn before my father's open wardrobe, which stood just inside the room. Nearer and nearer and nearer came the echoing footsteps. There was a strange coughing and shuffling and mumbling outside. My heart beat with expectation and fear. A quick step now close, close beside the door, a noisy rattle of the handle, and the door flies open with a bang. Recovering my courage with an effort, I take a cautious peep out. In the middle of the room in front of my father stands the sandman, the bright light of the lamp falling full upon his face. The sandman. The terrible sandman is the old advocate Coppelius, who often comes to dine with us. But the most hideous figure could not have awakened greater trepidation in my heart than this Coppelius did. Picture to yourself a large, broad-shouldered man with an immensely big head, a face the color of yellow ochre, gray bushy eyebrows from beneath which two piercing greenish cat-like eyes glittered, and a prominent Roman nose hanging over his upper lip. His distorted mouth was often screwed up into a malicious smile. Then two dark red spots appeared on his cheeks, and a strange hissing noise proceeded from between his tightly clenched teeth. He always wore an ash-gray coat of an old-fashioned cut, a waistcoat of the same, and nether extremities to match. But black stockings and buckles set with stones on his shoes. His little wig scarcely extended beyond the crown of his head. His hair was curled round, high up above his big red ears, and plastered to his temples with cosmetic, and a broad, closed hair bag stood out prominently from his neck, so that you could see the silver buckle that fastened his folded neckcloth. Altogether he was a most disagreeable and horribly ugly figure. But what he children detested most of all was his big coarse hairy hands. We could never fancy anything that he had once touched. This he had noticed, and so, whenever our good mother quietly placed a piece of cake or sweet fruit on our plates, he delighted to touch it under some pretext or other until the bright tears stood in our eyes, and from disgust and loathing we lost the enjoyment of the tidbit that was intended to please us. And he did just the same thing when father gave us a glass of sweet wine on holidays. Then he would quickly pass his hand over it, or even sometimes raise the glass to his blue lips, and he laughed quite sardonically when all we dared to do was to express our vexation in stifled sobs. He habitually called us the little brutes. And when he was present, we might not utter a sound. And we cursed the ugly, spiteful man who deliberately and intentionally spoiled all our little pleasures. Mother seemed to dislike this hateful copelius as much as we did. For as soon as he appeared, her cheerfulness and bright and natural manner were transformed into sad, gloomy seriousness. Father treated him as if he were a being of some higher race, whose ill manners were to be tolerated, whilst no efforts ought to be spared to keep him in good humor. He had only to give a slight hint, and his favorite dishes were cooked for him and rear wine uncorked. As soon as I saw this copelius, therefore, the fearful and hideous thought arose in my mind that he and he alone must be the Sandman. But I no longer conceived of the Sandman as the bugbear in the Old Nurses' fable, who fetched children's eyes and took them to the half-moon as food for his little ones. No. But as an ugly, specter-like fiend bringing trouble and misery and ruin both temporal and everlasting, everywhere wherever he appeared, I was spellbound on the spot. At the risk of being discovered and, as I well enough knew, of being severely punished, I remained as I was, with my head thrust through the curtains, listening. My father received copelius in a ceremonious manner. Come to work! cried the latter in a hoarse, snarling voice, throwing off his coat. Gloomily and silently my father took off his dressing gown and both put on long black smock-frocks. Where they took them from, I forgot to notice. Father opened the folding doors of a cupboard in the wall, but I saw that what I had so long taken to be a cupboard was really a dark recess in which was a little hearth. Copelius approached it and a blue flame crackled upwards from it. Round about were all kinds of strange utensils. Who'd God, as my old father bent down over the fire? How different he looked! His gentle and venerable features seemed to be drawn up by some dreadful convulsive pain into an ugly repulsive satanic mask. He looked like copelius. Copelius plied the red-hawk tongs and drew bright glowing masses out of the thick smoke and began deciduously to hammer them. I fancied that there were men's faces visible round about, but without eyes, having gassed the deep black holes where the eyes should have been. Eyes here, eyes here, cried Copelius in a hollow sepulchre voice. My blood ran cold with horror. I screamed and tumbled out of my hiding place into the floor. Copelius immediately seized upon me. You little brute! You little brute! He bleated, grinding his teeth. Then, snatching me up, he threw me on the hearth so that the flames began to singe my hair. Now we've got eyes, eyes, a beautiful pair of children's eyes. He whispered and, thrusting his hands into the flames, he took out some red-hot grains and was about to strew them into my eyes. Then my father clasped his hands and entreated him, saying, Master, Master, let my Nathaniel keep his eyes. Oh, do let him keep them. Copelius laughed shrilly and replied, Well, then the boy may keep his eyes and whine and pule his way through the world. But we will now at any rate observe the mechanism of the hand and the foot. And therewith he roughly laid hold upon me so that my joints cracked and twisted my hands and my feet, pulling them now this way and now that. That's not quite right altogether. It's better as it was. The old fellow knew what he was about. Thus list and hissed Copelius. But all around me grew black and dark. A sudden convulsive pain shot through all my nerves and bones. I knew nothing more. I felt a soft warm breath banning my cheek. I awakened as if out of the sleep of death. My mother was bending over me. Is the saint man still there? I stammered. No, my dear child, he's been gone a long, long time. He'll not hurt you. Thus spoke my mother as she kissed her recovered darling and pressed into her heart. But why should I tire you, my dear Lothar? Why do I dwell at such length on these details when there's so much remains to be said? Enough. I was detected in my eavesdropping and roughly handled by Copelius. Fear and terror had brought on a violent fever, of which I lay ill several weeks. Is the saint man still there? These were the first words I uttered on coming to myself again. The first sign of my recovery, of my safety. Thus, you see, I have only to relate to you the most terrible moment of my youth for you to thoroughly understand that it must not be ascribed to the weakness of my eyesight if all that I see is colorless, but to the fact that a mysterious destiny has hung a dark veil of clouds about my life, which I shall perhaps only break through when I die. Copelius did not show himself again. It was reported he had left the town. It was about a year later when, in pursuance of the old unchanged custom, we sat around the round table in the evening. Father was in very good spirits and was telling us amusing tales about his youthful travels. As it was striking nine, we all at once heard the street door creak on its hinges and slow, ponderous steps echoed across the passage and up the stairs. That is Copelius, said my mother, turning pale. Yes, it is Copelius, replied my father in a faint broken voice. The tears started from my mother's eyes. But father, father, she cried, must it be so? This is the last time, he replied. This is the last time he will come to me, I promise you. Go now. Go and take the children. Go. Go to bed. Good night. As for me, I felt as if I were converted into cold, heavy stone. I could not get my breath. As I stood there immovable, my mother sees me by the arm. Come, Nathaniel, do come along. I suffered myself to be led away. I went into my room. Be a good boy and keep quiet. Mother called after me. Get into bed and go to sleep. But tortured by indescribable fear and uneasiness, I could not close my eyes. That hateful, hideous Copelius stood before me with his glittering eyes, smiling maliciously down upon me. In vain did I strive to banish the image. Somewhere about midnight there was a terrific crack, as if a cannon were being fired off. The whole house shook. Something went rustling and clattering past my door. The house door was pulled too with a bang. That is Copelius! I cried terror stark and leapt out of bed. Then I heard a wild heart-rending scream. I rushed into my father's room. The door stood open and clouds of suffocating smoke came rolling towards me. The servant may shout, Oh, my master, my master! On the floor in front of the smoking hearth lay my father dead. His face burned black and fearfully distorted. My sisters weeping and moaning around him and my mother lying near them in a swoop. Copelius, you atrocious fiend! You've killed my father! I shouted. My senses left me. Two days later, when my father was placed in his coffin, his features were mild and gentle again as they had been when he was alive. I found great consolation in the thought that his association with the diabolical Copelius could not have ended in his everlasting ruin. Our neighbors had been awakened by the explosion. The affair got talked about and came before the magisterial authorities, who wished to cite Copelius to clear himself, but he had disappeared from the place, leaving no traces behind it. Now when I tell you, my dear friend, that the weather-glass hawker I spoke of was the villain Copelius, you will not blame me for seeing impending mischief in his inauspicious reappearance. He was differently dressed, but Copelius's figure and features are too deeply impressed upon my mind for me to be capable of making a mistake in the matter. Moreover, he has not even changed his name. He proclaims himself here I learned via Piedmontese mechanition and styles himself Giuseppe Coppola. I am resolved to enter the lists against him and revenge my father's death let the consequences be what they may. Don't say a word to mother about the reappearance of this odious monster. Give my love to my darling Clara. I will write to her when I am in a somewhat calmer frame of mind and you, etc. Clara to Nathaniel. You are right. You have not written to me for a very long time, but nevertheless I believe that I still retain a place in your mind thoughts. It is a proof that you were thinking a good deal about me when you were sending off your last letter to brother Lothair. For instead of directing it to him, you directed it to me. With joy I tore open the envelope and did not perceive the mistake until I read the words oh my dear dear Lothair. Now I know I ought not to have read any more of the letter, but ought to have given it to my brother, but as you have so often in innocent railery made it a sort of reproach against me that I possessed such a calm and for a woman cool headed temperament that I should be like the woman we read of. If the house was threatening to tumble down I should before hastily fleeing stop to smooth down a crumple in the window curtains. I need hardly tell you that the beginning of your letter quite upset me. I could scarcely breathe. There was a bright mist before my eyes. Oh my darling Nathaniel, what could this terrible thing be that had happened? Separation from you, never to see you again, the thought was like a sharp knife in my heart. I read on and on. Your description of that horrid copelius made my flesh creep. I now learned for the first time what a terrible and violent death your good old father died. Brother Lothair, to whom I handed over his property, sought to comfort me but with little success. That horrid weatherglass hawker Giuseppe Coppola followed me everywhere and I am almost ashamed to confess it, but he was able to disturb my sound and in general calm sleep with all sorts of wonderful dream shapes. But soon the next day I saw everything in a different light. Oh do not be angry with me my best beloved if despite your strange presentiment that copelius will do you some mischief Lothair tells you I am in quite as good spirits and just the same as ever. I will frankly confess it seems to me that all that was fearsome and terrible of which you speak existed only in your own self and that the real true outer world had but little to do with it. I can quite admit that old Coppelius may have been highly obnoxious to you children but your real detestation of him arose from the fact that he hated children. Naturally enough the gruesome sandman of the old nurse's story was associated in your childish mind with Ocoppelius who even though you had not believed in the sandman would have been to you a ghostly bugbear especially dangerous to children. His mysterious labors along with your father at night time were my dare say nothing more than secret experiments and alchemy with which your mother could not be over well pleased owing to the large sums of money that most likely were thrown away upon them and besides your father his mind full of the deceptives striving after higher knowledge may probably have become rather indifferent to his family as so often happens in the case of such experimentalists so also it is equally probable that your father brought about his death by his own imprudence and that Coppelius is not to blame for it. I must tell you that yesterday I asked our experienced neighbor the chemist whether in experiments of this kind an explosion could take place which would have a momentarily fatal effect. He said oh certainly and described to me in his products in surface natural way how it could be occasioned mentioning at the same time so many strange and funny words that I could not remember them at all. Now I know you will be angry at your clout and will say of the mysterious which often clasps man in its invisible arms there's not a ray can find its way into this cold part she sees only the varied surface of the things of the world and like the little child is pleased with the golden glittering fruit by the kernel of which lies the fatal poison. Oh my beloved Nathaniel do you believe then that the intuitive pressures of a dark power working within us to our own ruin cannot exist also in minds which are cheerful natural free from care but please forgive me that I a simple girl presume in any way to indicate to you what I really think of such an inward strife. After all I should not find the proper words and you would only laugh at me not because my thoughts were stupid but because I was so foolish as to attempt to tell them to you. If there is a dark and hostile power which traitorously fixes a thread in our hearts in order that laying hold of it and drawing us by means of it along a dangerous road to ruin which otherwise we should not have trod if I say there is such a power it must assume within us a form like ourselves nay it must be ourselves for only in that way can we believe in it and only so understood do we yield to it so far that it is able to accomplish its secret purpose. So long as we have sufficient firmness fortified by cheerfulness to always acknowledge foreign hostile influences for what they really are whilst we quietly pursue the path pointed out to us by both inclination and calling then this mysterious power perishes in its futile struggles to attain the form which is to be the reflected image of ourselves it is also certain of their ads that if we have once voluntarily given ourselves up to this dark physical power it often reproduces within us the strange forms which the outer world throws in our way so that thus it is we ourselves who engender within ourselves the spirit which by some remarkable delusion we imagine to speak in that outer form it is the phantom of our own self whose intimate relationship with and whose powerful influence upon our soul either plunges us into hell or elevates us to heaven thus you will see my beloved Nathaniel that I and Brother Lothair have well talked over the subject of dark powers and forces and now after I have with some difficulty written down the principle results of our discussion they seem to me to contain many really profound thoughts. Lothair's last words however I don't quite understand altogether I only dimly guess what he means and yet I cannot help thinking it is all very true I beg you dear strive to forget the ugly advocate Caperius as well as the weatherglass hawker Giuseppe Coppola try and convince yourself that these foreign influences can have no power over you that it is only the belief in their hostile power which can in reality make them dangerous to you if every line of your letter did not betray the violent excitement of your mind and if I did not sympathize with your condition from the bottom of my heart I could in truth jest about the advocate Sandman and weatherglass hawker Coppulius. Pluck up your spirits be cheerful I have resolved to appear to you as your guardian angel if that ugly man Coppola should dare take it into his head to bother you in your dreams and drive him away with a good hearty laugh I'm not afraid of him in his nasty hands not the least little bit I won't let him either as advocate spoil any dainty tidbit I've taken or as Sandman robbed me of my eyes my darling darling Nathaniel eternally you were etc etc. Nathaniel to Lothair I am very sorry that Clara opened and read my last letter to you of course the mistake is to be attributed to my own absence of mind she has written me a very deep philosophical letter proving conclusively that Coppulius and Coppola only exist in my own mind and are phantoms of my own self which will at once be dissipated as soon as I look upon them in that light in very truth one can hardly believe that the mind which so often sparkles in those bright beautifully smiling childlike eyes of hers like a sweet lovely dream could draw such subtle and scholastic distinctions she also mentions your name you have been talking about me I suppose you have been giving her lectures since she sifts and refines everything so acutely but enough of this I must now tell you it is most certain that the weather glass hawker Giuseppe Coppola is not the advocate Coppulius I am attending the lectures of our recently appointed professor of physics who like the distinguished naturalist is called Spallanzani and is of Italian origin note Lazaros Spallanzani a celebrated anatomist and naturalist 1729 to 1799 filled for several years the chair of natural history at Pavia and traveled extensively for scientific purposes in Italy Turkey Sicily etc returned to text he has known Coppola for many years and it is also easy to tell from his accent that he really is a piedmontese Coppulius was a German though no honest German I fancy nevertheless I am not quite satisfied you and Clara will perhaps take me for a gloomy dreamer but know how can I get rid of the impression which Coppulius' cursed face made upon me I am glad to learn from Spallanzani that he has left the town this professor Spallanzani is a very queer fish he is a little fat man with prominent cheekbones thin nose projecting lips and small piercing eyes you cannot get a better picture of him than by turning over one of the Berlin pocket Omanax note or Omanax of the Muses as they were also sometimes called were periodicals mostly yearly publications containing all kinds of literary effusions mostly however lyrical they originated in the 18th century Schiller A.W. and F. Schlegel Ticke and Tymiso amongst others conducted undertakings of this nature returned to text and looking at Caliostro's portrait engraved by Ciocibietzky Spallanzani looks just like him notes Caliostro Joseph Balsamo a Sicilian by birth calling himself Caliostro one of the greatest imposters of modern times lived during the latter part of the 18th century see Carlisle's miscellaneous for an account of his life and character Daniel Nicholas Ciocibietzky painter and engraver of Polish descent was born at Danzig in 1726 for some years he was so popular and artist that few books were published in Prussia without played Silvignettes by him the catalogue of his works is said to include three thousand items returned to text once lately as i went up the steps to his house i perceived that beside the curtain which generally covered a glass door there was a small chink what it was that excited my curiosity i cannot explain but i looked through in the room i saw a female tall very slender but of perfect proportions and splendidly dressed sitting at a little table on which she had placed both her arms her hands being folded together she sat opposite the door so that i could easily see her angelically beautiful face she did not appear to notice me and there was more over a strangely fixed look about her eyes i might almost say they appeared as if they had no power of vision i thought she was sleeping with her eyes open i felt quite uncomfortable and so i slipped away quietly into the professor's lecture room which was close at hand afterwards i learned that the figure which i had seen was Valenzani's daughter Olympia whom he keeps locked in a most wicked and unaccountable way and no man is ever allowed to come near her perhaps however there is after all something peculiar about her perhaps she's an idiot or something of that sort but why am i telling you all this i could have told you it all better and in more detail when i see you for in a fortnight i shall be amongst you i must see my dear sweet angel my Clara again then a little bit of ill temper which i must confess to a possession of me after her fearfully sensible letter will be blown away and that is the reason why i'm not writing to her as well today with all best wishes etc nothing more strange and extraordinary can be imagined gracious reader than what happened to my poor friend the young student Nathaniel and which i have undertaken to relate to you have you ever lived to experience anything that completely took possession of your heart and mind and thoughts to the utter exclusion of everything else all was seething and boiling within you your blood heated to fever pitch leapt through your veins and inflamed your cheeks your gaze was so peculiar as if seeking to grasp in empty space forms not seen of any other eye and all your words ended in size but opening some mystery then your friends asked you what is the matter with you my dear friend what do you see and wishing to describe the inner pictures in all the vivid colors with their lights and the shades you in vain struggled to find words with which to express yourself but you felt as if you must gather up all the events that had happened wonderful splendid terrible jacuzzi and awful in the very first word so that the whole might be revealed by a single electric discharge so to speak yet every word and all that part took of the nature of communication by intelligible sounds seemed to be colorless cold and dead then you try and try again and stutter and stammer caused your friends prosy questions strike like icy winds upon your heart's hot fire until they extinguished it but if like a bold painter you had first sketch in a few ardent strokes the outline of the picture you had in your soul you would then easily have been able to deepen and intensify the colors one after the other until the varied throng of living figures carried your friends away and they like you saw themselves in the midst of the scene that had proceeded out of your own soul strictly speaking indulgent reader i must indeed confess to you nobody has asked me for the history of young Nathaniel but you are very well aware that i belong to that remarkable class of authors who when they are bearing anything about in their minds in the manner i have just described feel as if everybody who comes near them and also the whole world to boot were asking oh what is it oh do tell us my good sir hence i was most powerfully impelled to merit to you Nathaniel's ominous life my soul was full of the elements of wonder and extraordinary peculiarity in it but for this very reason and because it was necessary in the very beginning to dispose you indulgent reader to bear with what is fantastic and that is not a little thing i racked my brain to find a way of commencing the story in a significant and original manner calculated to arrest your attention to begin with once upon a time the best beginning for a story seemed to me to tame with in the small country town s blankly rather better at any rate allowing plenty of room to work up to the climax or to plunge at once in medias race go to that devil cried the student Nathaniel his eyes blazing wildly with rage and fear when the weatherglass awkward to set the couple of well that is what i really had written when i thought i detected something of the ridiculous in Nathaniel's wild glance and the history is anything but laughable i could not find any words which seemed fitted to reflect in even a feeblest degree the brightness of the colors of my mental vision i determined not to begin at all so i pray you gracious reader accept the three letters which my friend both there has been so kind as to communicate kumi as the outline of the picture into which i will endeavor to introduce more and more color as i proceed with my narrative perhaps like a good portrait painter i may succeed in depicting more than one figure in such wise that you will recognize it as a good likeness without being acquainted with the original and feel as if you had very often seen the original with your own bodily eyes perhaps too you will then believe that nothing is more wonderful nothing more fantastic than real life and that all the writer can do is to present it as a dark reflection from a dim cut mirror in order to make the very commencement more intelligible it is necessary to add to the letters that soon after the death of Nathaniel's father Clara and Lothair the children of a distant relative who had likewise died leaving the morphins were taken by Nathaniel's mother into her own house Clara and Nathaniel conceived a warm affection for each other against which not the slightest objection in the world could be urged when therefore Nathaniel left home to prosecute his studies in G blank they were betrothed it is from G blank that his last letter is written for his attending the lectures of Balansani the distinguished professor of physics i might now proceed comfortably with my narration did not at this moment Clara's image rise up so vividly before my eyes that i cannot turn them away from it just as i never could when she looked upon me and smiled so sweetly nowhere would she have passed for beautiful that was the unanimous opinion of all professors to have any technical knowledge of beauty but whilst architects raised the pure proportions of her figure and form painters averred that her neck shoulders and bosom were almost too chastely modeled and yet on the other hand one at all were in love with her glorious mac-delon hair and talked a good deal of nonsense about batoni-like coloring note Bumpio Fiorolomo Batoni an italian painter of the 18th century whose works were at one time greatly overestimated return to text one of them a veritable romanticist strangely enough likened her eyes to a lake by greece diet note Jacob greece diet circa 1625 to 1682 a painter of harlem in pommand his favorite subjects were remote farms lonely stagnant water deep shaded woods with marshy paths the sea coast subjects of a dark melancholy kind his sea pieces are greatly admired return to text one of them likened her eyes to a lake by greece diet in which is reflected the pure azure of the cloudless sky the beauty of woods and flowers and all the bright and varied life of a living landscape poets and musicians went still further and said what's all this talk about seas and reflections how can we look upon the girl without feeling that wonderful heavenly songs and melodies beam upon us from her eyes penetrating deep down into our hearts till all becomes awake and throbbing with emotion and if we cannot sing anything at all passable then why we are not worth much and this we can also plainly read in the rare smile which flits around her lips when we have the hearty hood to squeak out something in her presence which we pretend to call singing in spite of the fact that it is nothing more than a few single notes confusedly linked together and it really was so claire had the powerful fancy of a bright innocent unaffected child a woman's deep and sympathetic heart and an understanding clear sharp and discriminating dreamers and visionaries had but a bad time of it with her for without saying very much she was not by nature a talkative disposition she plainly asked by her calm steady look and rare ironical smile how can you imagine my dear friends that i can take these fleeting shadowy images for true living and breathing forms for this reason many found fault with her as being cold prosaic and devoid of feeling others however who had reached to clearer and deeper conception of life were extremely fond of the intelligent childlike large hearted girl but none had such an affection for her as Nathaniel who was a zealous and cheerful cultivator of the fields of science and art claire clung to her lover with all her heart the first clouds she encountered in life were when he had to separate from her with what delight did she fly into his arms when as he had promised in his last letter to Lothair he really came back to his native town and entered his mother's room and as Nathaniel had foreseen the moment he saw claire again he no longer thought about either the advocate copelius or her sensible letter his ill humor had quite disappeared nevertheless Nathaniel was right when he told his friend Lothair that the repulsive vendor of weather glasses copula had exercised a fatal and disturbing influence upon his life it was quite patent to all for even during the first few days he showed that he was completely and entirely changed he gave himself up to gloomy reveries and moreover acted so strangely they had never observed anything at all like it in him before everything even his own life was to him but dreams and presentiments his constant theme was that every man who delusively imagined himself to be free was merely the plaything of the cruel sport of mysterious powers and it was vain for man to resist them he must humbly submit to whatever destiny had decreed for him he went so far as to maintain that it was foolish to believe that a man could do anything in art or science of his own accord for the inspiration in which alone any true artistic work could be done did not proceed from the spirit within outwards but was a result of the operation directed inwards of some higher principle existing without and beyond ourselves this mystic extravagance was in the highest degree repugnant to Clara's clear intelligent mind but it seemed vain to enter upon any attempt at refutation yet when Nathaniel went on to prove that Copelius was the evil principle which had entered into him and taken possession of him at the time he was listening behind the curtain and that this hateful demon would in some terrible way ruin their happiness then Clara grew grave and said yes Nathaniel you are right Copelius is an evil principle he can do dreadful things as bad as put a satanic power which would assume a living physical form but only only if you do not banish him from your mind and thoughts so long as you believe in him he exists and is at work your belief in him is his only power where upon Nathaniel quite angry because Clara would only grant the existence of the demon in his own mind began to dilate at large upon the whole mystic doctrine of devils and awful powers but Clara abruptly broke off the theme by making to Nathaniel's very great disgust some quite commonplace remark such deep mysteries are sealed books to cold unsusceptible characters he thought without being clearly conscious to himself that he counted Clara amongst these inferior natures and accordingly he did not remit his efforts to initiate her into these mysteries in the morning when she was helping to prepare breakfast he would take his stand beside her and read all sorts of mystic books to her until she begged him but my dear Nathaniel I shall have to scold you as the evil principle which exercises a fatal influence upon my coffee for if I do as you wish and let things go their own way and look into your eyes whilst you read the coffee will all boil over into the fire and you will none of you get any breakfast then Nathaniel hastily banged the book to and ran away in great displeasure to his own room formerly he had possessed a peculiar talent for writing pleasing sparkling tales which Clara took the greatest delight in listening to but now his productions were gloomy unintelligible and wanting in form so that although Clara out of forbearance towards him did not say so he nevertheless felt how very little interest she took in them there was nothing that Clara disliked so much as what was tedious at such times her intellectual sleepiness was not to be overcome it was betrayed both in her glances and in her words now Nathaniel's effusions were in truth exceedingly tedious his ill humor at Clara's cold prosaic temperament continued to increase Clara could not conceal her distaste of his dark gloomy wearying mysticism and thus both began to be more and more estranged from each other without exactly being aware of it themselves the image of the ugly copelius had as Nathaniel was obliged to confess to himself faded considerably in his fancy and it often cost him great pains to present him in vivid colors in his literary efforts in which he played the part of the ghoul of destiny at length it entered into his head to make his dismal presentiment that copelius would ruin his happiness the subject of a poem he made himself and Clara united by true love the central figures but represented a black hand as being from time to time thrust into their life and plucking out a joy that had blossomed for them at length as they were standing at the altar the terrible copelius appeared and touched Clara's lovely eyes which leapt into Nathaniel's own bosom burning and hissing like bloody sparks then copelius laid hold upon him and hurled him into a blazing circle of fire which spun round with the speed of a whirlwind and storming and blustering dashed away with him the fearful noise it made was like a furious hurricane lashing the filming sea waves until they rise up like black white-headed giants in the midst of the raging struggle but through the midst of the savage fury of the tempest he heard Clara's voice calling can you not see me dear copelius has deceived you they were not my eyes which burned so in your bosom they were fiery drops of your own heart's blood look at me i have got my own eyes still Nathaniel thought yes that is Clara and i am hers forever then this thought laid a powerful grasp upon the fiery circle so that it stood still and the riotous turmoil died away rumbling down a dark abyss. Nathaniel looked into Clara's eyes but it was death whose gaze rested so kindly upon him whilst Nathaniel was writing this work he was very quiet and sober-minded he filed and polished every line and as he had chosen to submit himself to the limitations of meter he did not rest until all was pure and musical when however he had at length finished it and read it aloud to himself he was seized with horror and awful dread and he screamed whose hideous voice is this but he soon came to see in it again nothing beyond a very successful poem and he confidently believed it would incindal Clara's cold temperament though to what end she should be thus aroused was not quite clear to his own mind nor yet what would be the real purpose served by tormenting her with these dreadful pictures which prophesied a terrible and ruinous end to her affection end of part one of The Sandman recording by Thomas Copland part two of The Sandman in Weird Tales volume one by E. T. A. Hoffman translated by J. T. this Libervox recording is in the public domain recording by Thomas Copland The Sandman part two Nathaniel and Clara sat in his mother's little garden Clara was bright and cheerful since for three entire days her lover who had been busy writing his poem had not teased her with his dreams or forebodings. Nathaniel too spoke in a gay and vivacious way of things of merry import as he formally used to do so that Clara said ah now I have you again we have driven away that ugly papelius you see then it suddenly occurred to him that he had got the poem in his pocket which he wished to read to her he had once took out the manuscript and began to read Clara anticipating something tedious as usual prepared to submit to the inflection and calmly resumed her knitting but as the somber clouds rose up darker and darker she let her knitting fall on her lap and sat with her eyes fixed in a set stair upon Nathaniel's face he was quite carried away by his own work the fire of enthusiasm colored his cheeks a deep red and tears started from his eyes at length he concluded groaning and showing great lassitude grasping Clara's hand he sighed as if he were being utterly melted in inconsolable grief oh Clara Clara she drew him softly to her heart and said in a low but very grave and impressive tone Nathaniel my darling Nathaniel wrote that foolish senseless stupid thing into the fire then Nathaniel leapt indignantly to his feet crying as he pushed Clara from him you damned lifeless automaton and rushed away Clara was cut to the heart and wept bitterly oh he has never loved me or he does not understand me she sobbed no fair entered the arbor Clara was obliged to tell him all that had taken place he was passionately fond of his sister and every word of her complaint fell like a spark upon his heart so that the displeasure which he had long entertained against his dreamy friend Nathaniel was kindled into furious anger he hastened to find Nathaniel and up braided him in harsh words for his irrational behavior towards his beloved sister the fire in Nathaniel answered him in the same style a fantastic crack-brained fool was retaliated with a miserable common everyday sort of fellow a meeting was the inevitable consequence they agreed to meet on the following morning behind the garden wall and fight according to the custom of the students of the place with sharp rapiers they went about silent and gloomy Clara had both heard and seen the violent quarrel and also observed the fencing master bring the rapiers in the dust of the evening she had a presentiment of what was to happen they both appeared at the appointed place wrapped up in the same gloomy silence and threw off their coats their eyes flaming with the bloodthirsty light of prognacity they were about to begin their contest when Clara burst through the garden door sobbing she screamed you savage terrible men cut me down before you attack each other for how can i live when my lover has slain my brother or my brother slain my lover Lothar let his weapon fall and gazed silently upon the ground whilst Nathaniel's heart was rent with sorrow and all the affection which he had felt for his lovely Clara in the happiest days for golden youth was awakened within him his murderous weapon too fell from his hand oh can you ever forgive me my only my dearly loved Clara can you my dear brother Lothar also forgive me Lothar was touched by his friend's great distress the three young people embraced each other amidst endless tears and swore never again to break their bond of love and fidelity Nathaniel felt as if a heavy burden that had been weighing him down to the earth was now rolled from off him nay as if by offering resistance to the dark power which it possessed him he had rescued his own self from the ruin which had threatened him three happy days he now spent amidst the loved ones and then returned to g blank where he had still a year to stay before settling down in his native town for life everything having referenced to coppilius had been concealed from the mother for they knew she could not think of him without horror since she as well as Nathaniel believed him to be guilty of causing her husband's death when Nathaniel came to the house where he lived he was greatly astonished to find it burnt down to the ground so that nothing but the bare outer walls were left standing amidst a heap of ruins although the fire had broken out in the laboratory of the chemist who lived on the ground floor and had therefore spread upwards some of Nathaniel's bold active friends had succeeded in time in forcing away into his room in the upper story and saving his books and manuscripts and instruments they had carried them all un-injured into another house where they engaged a room for him this he now at once took possession of that he lived opposite professor spell and sonny did not strike him particularly nor did it occur to him as anything more similar that he could as he observed by looking out of his window see straight into the room where olympia often sat alone her figure he could plainly distinguish although her features were uncertain and confused it did at length occur to him however that she remained for hours together in the same position in which he had first discovered her through the glass door sitting at a little table without any occupation whatever and it was evident that she was constantly gazing across in his direction he could not but confess to himself that he had never seen a finer figure however with clara mistress of his heart he remained perfectly unaffected by olympia's stiffness and apathy and it was only occasionally that he sent a fugitive glance over his compendium across to her that was all he was writing to clara a light tap came at the door at his summons to come in copula's repulsive face appeared peeping in nadaniel felt his heart beat with trepidation but recollecting what spell and sonny had told him about his fellow countryman copula and what he had himself so faithfully promised his beloved in respect to the sand man copelius he was ashamed of himself for this childish fear of specters accordingly he controlled himself with an effort and said as quietly and as calmly as he possibly could i don't want to buy any weather glasses my good friend you'd better go elsewhere then copula came right into the room and said in a hoarse voice screwing up his wide mouth into a hideous smile whilst his little eyes flashed keenly from belief his long gray eyelashes what new weather glass new weather glass we've got fine oise as well fine oise a frighted nadaniel cried you stupid man how can you have eyes eyes eyes but copula laying aside his weather glasses thrust his hands into his big coat pockets and brought out several spy glasses and spectacles and put them on the table there there spectacles spectacles to put nose them's my oise fine oise and he continued to produce more and more spectacles from his pockets until the table began to gleam and flash all over thousands of eyes were looking and blinking convulsively and staring up at nadaniel he could not avert his gaze from the table copula went on heaping up his spectacles whilst wilder and even wilder burning flashes crossed through and through each other and darted their blood red rays into nadaniel's breast quite overcome and frantic with terror he shouted stop stop you terrible man and he seized copula by the arm which he had again thrust into his pocket in order to bring out still more spectacles although the whole table was covered all over with them with a harsh disagreeable laugh copula gently freed himself and with the words so went non well here fine glass he swept all his spectacles together and put them back into his coat pockets whilst from a breast pocket he produced a great number of larger and smaller perspectives as soon as the spectacles were born nadaniel recovered his equanimity again and bending his thoughts upon plara he clearly discerned that the gruesome incubus had proceeded only from himself as also the copula was a right honest mecanition and optician and far from being copelious as dreaded double and ghost and then besides none of the glasses which copula now placed on the table had anything at all singular about them at least nothing so weird as the spectacles so in order to square counts with himself nadaniel now really determined to buy something of the man he took up a small very beautifully cut pocket perspective and by way of proving it looked through the window never before in his life had he had a glass in his hands that brought out things so clearly and sharply and distinctly involuntarily he directed the glass upon spallant sonny's room olympia sat at the little table as usual her arms laid upon it and her hands folded now he saw for the first time the regular and exquisite beauty of her features the eyes however seemed to him to have a singular look of fixity and lifelessness but as he continued to look closer and more carefully through the glass he fancied a light like humid moonbeams came into them it seemed as if their power of vision was now being in kindled their glances shown with ever increasing vivacity nadaniel remained standing at the window as if glued to the spot by a wizard's spell his gaze riveted unchangeably upon the divinely beautiful olympia a coughing and shuffling of the feet awakened him out of his enchaining dream as it were copula stood behind him trececchini three dockets nadaniel had completely forgotten the optician he hastily paid the sum demanded ain't fine glass fine glass as copula in his harsh unpleasant voice smiling sardonicly yes yes yes rejoined nadaniel impatiently a duma good friend but copula did not leave the room without casting many peculiar side glances upon nadaniel and the young student heard him laughing loudly on the stairs oh well thought he he's laughing at me because i've paid him too much for this little perspective because i've given him too much money that's it as he softly murmured these words he fancied he detected a gasping sigh as of a dying man stealing awfully through the room his heart stopped beating fear but to be sure he had heaved a deep sigh himself it was quite plain claire is quite right said he to himself in holding me to be an incurable ghost seer and yet it's very ridiculous i'm more than ridiculous that the stupid thought of having paid copula too much for his glass should cause me this strange anxiety i can't see any reason for it now he sat down to finish his letter to claire but a glance through the window showed him olympia still in her former posture urged by an irresistible impulse he jumped up and seized copula's perspective nor could he tear himself away from the fascinating olympia until his friend and brother sigmond called for him to go to professor spalanzani's lecture the curtains before the door of the all-important room were closely drawn so that he could not see olympia nor could he even see her from his own room during the two following days notwithstanding that he scarcely ever left his window and maintained a scarce interrupted watch through copula's perspective upon a room on the third day curtains even were drawn across the window plunged into the depths of despair goaded by longing and ardent desire he hurried outside the walls of the town olympia's image hovered about his path in the air and stepped forth out of the bushes and peeped up at him with large and lustrous eyes from the bright surface of the room claire's image was completely faded from his mind he had no thoughts except for olympia he uttered his love planes aloud and in a lacrimose tone oh my glorious noble star of love have you only risen to vanish again and leave me in the darkness and hopelessness of night returning home he became aware that there was a good deal of noisy bustle going on in spalanzani's house all the doors stood wide open men were taking in all kinds of gear and furniture the windows of the first floor were all lifted off their hinges busy maid servants with immense hair brooms were driving backwards and forwards dusting and sweeping whilst within could be heard the knocking and hammering of carpenters and upholsterers utterly astonished nathaniel stood still in the street then sigman joined him laughing and said well what do you say to our old spalanzani nathaniel assured him that he could not say anything since he knew not what it all meant to his great astonishment he could hear however that they were turning the quiet gloomy house almost inside out with their dusting and cleaning and making of alterations then he learned from sigmond that spalanzani intended giving a great concert and ball on the following day and that half the university was invited it was generally reported that spalanzani was going to let his daughter olympia whom he had so long so jealously guarded from every eye maker first appearance nathaniel received an invitation at the appointed hour when the parishes were rolling up and the lights were gleaming brightly in the decorated halls he went across to the professors his heart beating high with expectation the company was both numerous and brilliant olympia was richly and tastefully dressed one could not but admire her figure and the regular beauty of her features the striking inward curve of her back as well as the wasp-like smallness of her waist appeared to be the result of too tight lacing there was something stiff and measured in her gait and bearing that made an unfavorable impression upon many it was ascribed to the constraint imposed upon her by the company the concert began olympia played on the piano with great skill and sang as skillfully an aria de bravure in a voice which was if anything almost too sharp but clear as glass bells nathaniel was transported with delight he stood in the background farthest from her and owing to the blinding lights could not quite distinguish her features so without being observed he took copula's glass out of his pocket and directed it upon the beautiful olympia oh then he perceived how her yearning eyes sought him how every note only reached its full purity in the loving glance which penetrated to and inflamed his heart her artificial lords seemed to him to be the exultant cry towards heaven of the soul refined by love and when at last after the cadenza the long trill rang shrilly and loudly through the hall he felt as if he were suddenly grasped by burning arms and could no longer control himself he could not help shouting aloud in his mingled pain and delight olympia all eyes returned upon him many people laughed the face of the cathedral organist wore a still more gloomy look than it had done before but all he said was very well the concert came to an end and the ball began oh to dance with her with her that was now the aim of all Nathaniel's wishes of all his desires but how should he have courage to request her the queen of the ball to grant him the honor of a dance and yet he couldn't tell how it came about just as the dance began he found himself standing close beside her nobody having as yet asked her to be his partner so with some difficulties stammering out a few words he grasped her hand it was cold as ice he shook with an awful frosty shiver but fixing his eyes upon her face he saw that her glance was beaming upon him with love and longing and at the same moment he thought that the pulse began to beat in her cold hand and the warm lifeblood decorced through her veins and passion burned more intensely in his own heart also he threw his arm around her beautiful waist and whirled her around the hall he had always thought that he kept good and accurate time in dancing but from the perfectly rhythmical evenness with which olympia danced and which frequently put him quite out he perceived how very faulty his own time really was notwithstanding he would not dance with any other lady and everybody else who approached olympia to call upon her for a dance he would have liked to kill on the spot this however only happened twice to his astonishment olympia remained after this without a partner and he failed not on each occasion to take her out again if nathaniel had been able to see anything else accept the beautiful olympia there would inevitably have been a good deal of unpleasant quarreling and strife for it was evident that olympia was the object of the smothered laughter only with difficulty suppressed which was heard in various corners amongst the young people and they followed her with very curious looks but nobody knew for what reason nathaniel excited by dancing and the plentiful supply of wine he had consumed had laid aside the shyness which at other times characterized him he sat beside olympia her hand in his own and declared his love enthusiastically and passionately in words which either of them understood either he nor olympia and yet she perhaps did for she sat with her eyes fixed unchangeably upon his sighing repeatedly upon this nathaniel would answer oh you glorious heavenly lady you rave in the promised paradise of love oh what a profound soul you have my whole being is mirrored in it and a good deal more in the same strain but olympia only continued to sigh ah again and again professor spellings on it passed by the two happy lovers once or twice and smiled with a look of peculiar satisfaction all at once it seemed to nathaniel albeit he was far away in a different world as if it were growing perceptibly darker down below professor spellings he looked about him and to his very great alarm became aware that there were only two lights left burning in the hall and they were on the point of going out the music and dancing had long ago ceased we must part part he cried wildly and despairingly he kissed olympia's hand he bent down to her mouth but ice cold lips met his burning ones as he touched her cold hand he felt his heart thrilled with awe the legend of the dead bride shot suddenly through his mind note flagon the freedman of hadrian relates that a young maiden filimian the daughter of philistratus and caritas became deeply enamored of a young man named mccarty's a guest in the house of her father this did not meet with the approbation of her parents and they turned mccarty's away the young maiden took this so much to heart that she pined away and died sometime afterwards mccarty's returned to his old lodgings when he was visited at night by his beloved who came from the grave to see him again the story may be read in hay woods thomas hierarchy of blessed angels book seven page 479 london 1637 girta has made this story the foundation of his beautiful poem the brout von corinth with which form of it hoffman was most likely familiar returned to text but olympia had drawn him closer to her and the kiss appeared to warm her lips to vitality professor's palanzane strode slowly through the empty apartment his footsteps giving a hollow echo and his figure had as the flickering shadows played about him a ghostly awful appearance do you love me do you love me olympia only one little word do you love me whispered nathaniel but she only sighed ah ah as she rose to her feet yes you are my lovely glorious star of love said nathaniel and will shine forever purifying and ennobling my heart ah ah replied olympia as she moved along nathaniel followed her they stood before the professor you have had an extraordinarily animated conversation with my daughter said he smiling well well my dear mr nathaniel if you find pleasure in talking to the stupid girl i am sure i should be glad for you to come and do so nathaniel took his leave his heart singing and leaping in a perfect delirium of happiness during the next few days palanzane's ball was the general topic of conversation although the professor had done everything to make the thing a splendid success yet certain gay spirits related more than one thing that had occurred which was quite irregular and out of order they were especially keen in pulling olympia to pieces for her taciturnity and rigid stiffness in spite of her beautiful form they alleged that she was hopelessly stupid and in this fact they discerned the reason why palanzane had so long kept her concealed from publicity nathaniel heard all this with inward wrath but nevertheless he held his tongue boar thought he would it indeed be worthwhile to prove to these fellows that it is their own stupidity which prevents them from appreciating olympia's profound and brilliant parts one day sigman said to him pray brother have the kindness to tell me how you a sensible fellow came to lose your head over that miss wax face that wooden doll across there nathaniel was about to fly into a rage but he recollected himself and replied tell me sigman how came it that olympia's divine charms could escape your eye so keenly alive as it always is to beauty and your acute perception as well but heaven be thanked for it otherwise i should have had you for arrival and then the blood of one of us would have had to be spilled sigman perceiving how matters stood with his friend skillfully interposed and said after remarking that all argument with one in love about the object of his affections was out of place yet it's very strange that several of us have formed pretty much the same opinion about olympia we think she is you won't take a deal brother that she is singularly statuesque and soulless her figure is regular and so are her features that can't be gained said and if her eyes were not so utterly devoid of life i may say of the power of vision she might pass for a beauty she is strangely measured in her movements they all seem as if they were dependent upon some wound up clockwork her playing and singing has the disagreeably perfect but insensitive time of a singing machine and her dancing is the same we felt quite afraid of this olympia and did not like to have anything to do with her she seemed to us to be only acting like a living creature and as if there was some secret at the bottom of it all now thangel did not give way to the bitter feelings which threatened to master him at these words of sigmans he fought down and got the better of his displeasure and merely said very earnestly you cold prosaic fellows may very well be afraid of her it is only to its like the poetically organized spirit unfolds itself upon me alone did her loving glances fall and through my mind and thoughts alone did they radiate and only in her love can i find my own self again perhaps however she doesn't do quite right not to jabber a lot of nonsense and stupid talk like other shallow people it is true she speaks with few words but the few words she does speak are genuine higher uplifts of the inner world of love and of the higher cognition of the intellectual life revealed in the intuition of the eternal beyond the grave but you have no understanding for all these things and i am only wasting words go help me with you brother said sigman very gently almost sadly but it seems to me that you are in a very bad way you may rely upon me if all no i can't say anymore it all once dawned upon Nathaniel that his cold prosaic friend sigman really and sincerely wished him well and so he warmly shook his proffered hand. Nathaniel had completely forgotten that there was a Clara in the world whom he had once loved and his mother and Lothair they had all vanished from his mind he lived for Olympia alone. He sat beside her every day for hours together rhapsodizing about his love and sympathy and kindle to life and about psychic elective affinity. Note this phrase Debalter von Schacht in German has been made celebrated as the title of one of Goethe's works. Return to text. All of which Olympia listened to with great reference. He fished up from the very bottom of his desk all the things that he had ever written poems fancy sketches visions romances tales and the heap was increased daily with all kinds of aimless sonnets stanzas and nets all these he read to Olympia hour after hour without going tired but then he had never had such an exemplary listener she neither embroidered nor knitted she did not look out of the window or feed a bird or play with a little pet dog or favorite cat neither did she twist a piece of paper or anything of that kind round her finger she did not forcibly convert a yawn into a low affected cough in short she sat hour after hour with her eyes bent unchangeably upon her lover's face without moving or altering her position and her gaze grew more ardent and more ardent still and it was only when at last Nathaniel rose and kissed her lips or her hand that she said ah ah and then good night dear arrived in his own room Nathaniel would break out with oh brilliant what a profound mind only you you alone understand me and his heart trembled with rapture when he reflected upon the wondrous harmony which daily revealed itself between his own and his Olympia's character for he fancied that she had expressed in respect to his works and his poetic genius the identical sentiments which he himself cherished deep down in his own heart in respect to the same and even as if it was his own heart's voice speaking to him and it must indeed have been so for Olympia never uttered any other words than those already mentioned and when Nathaniel himself in his clear and sober moments as for instance directly after waking in a morning thought about her utter passivity and des eternity he only said what are words but words the glance of her heavenly eyes says more than any tongue on earth and how can anyway a child of heaven accustom herself to the narrow circle which the exigencies of a wretched mundane life demand Professor Spellanzani appeared to be greatly pleased at the intimacy that had sprung up between his daughter Olympia and Nathaniel and showed the young man many unmistakable proofs of his good feeling towards him and when Nathaniel ventured at length through hint very delicately at an alliance with Olympia the professor smiled all over his face at once and said he should allow his daughter to make a perfectly free choice encouraged by these words and with the fire of desire burning in his heart Nathaniel resolved the very next day to implore Olympia to tell him frankly in plain words what he had long read in her sweet loving glances that she would be his forever he looked for the ring which his mother had given him at parting he would present it to Olympia as a symbol of his devotion and of the happy life he was to lead with earth from that time onwards whilst looking for it he came across his letters from Clara and Lothair he threw them carelessly aside found the ring put it in his pocket and ran across to Olympia whilst still on the stairs in the entrance passage he heard an extraordinary hubba the noise seemed to proceed from Spellanzani's study there was a stamping a rattling pushing knocking against the door with curses and old syndrome engulf leave hold leave hold you monster you ask staked your life at honor upon it that was not our wager I I made the eyes I the clockwork go to the devil with your clockwork you damn dog of a watchmaker be a satan stop you paltry turner infernal beast stop begone let me go the voices which were thus making all this racket and rumpus were those of Spellanzani and the fearsome copelius Nathaniel rushed in impelled by some nameless dread the professor was grasping a female figure by the shoulders the italian copula held her by the feet and they were pulling and dragging each other backwards and forwards fighting furiously to get possession of her Nathaniel recoiled with horror on recognizing that the figure was Olympia boiling with rage he was about to tear his beloved from the grasp of the mad men when copula by an extraordinary exertion of strength twisted the figure out of the professor's hand and gave him such a terrible blow with her that he reeled backwards and fell over the table all amongst the vials and retorts the bottles and glass cylinders which covered it all these things were smashed into a thousand pieces but copula through the figure across his shoulder and laughing shrilly and horribly ran hastily down the stairs the figure's ugly feet hanging down and banging and rattling like wood against the steps Nathaniel was stupefied he had seen only two distinctly that in Olympia's pallid waxed face there were no eyes merely black holes in their stead she was an inanimate puppet Spellanzani was rolling on the floor the pieces of glass had cut his head and dressed in arm the blood was escaping from him in streams but he gathered his strength together by an effort after him after him what do you stand staring there for copilius copilius he's stolen my best automaton at which i've worked for 20 years staked my life upon it the clockwork speech movement mine your eyes stolen your eyes damn him curse him after him fetch me back Olympia there are the eyes and now Nathaniel saw a pair of bloody eyes lying on the floor staring at him Spellanzani seized them with his uninjured hand and threw them at him so that they hit his breast then madness dung her burning talons into him and swept down into his heart rending his mind and thoughts to shreds aha aha firewheel firewheel spin round firewheel merrily merrily aha wouldn't all spin round pretty wouldn't all and he threw himself upon the professor clutching him fast by the throat he would certainly have strangled him had not several people attracted by the noise rushed in and torn away the mad man and so they saved the professor whose wounds were immediately dressed Sigmund with all his strength was not able to subdue the frantic lunatic who continued to scream in a dreadful way speed around wouldn't all to strike out right and left with his doubled fists at length the united strength of several succeeded in overpowering him by throwing him on the floor and binding him his cries passed into a brutish bellow that was awful to hear and thus raging with the harrowing violence of madness he was taken away to the madhouse before continuing my narration of what happened further to the unfortunate Nathaniel i will tell you indulgent reader in case you take any interest in that skillful mecanition and fabricator of automata Spallansani that he recovered completely from his wounds he had however to leave the university for Nathaniel's fate had created a great sensation and the opinion was pretty generally expressed that it was an imposter altogether unpardonable to have smuggled a wooden puppet instead of a living person into intelligent tea circles for olympia had been present at several with success lawyers called it a cunning piece of navery and all the harder to punish since it was directed against the public and it had been so craftily contrived that it had escaped unobserved by all except a few preternaturally acute students although everybody was very wise now and remembered to have thought of several facts which occurred to them as suspicious but these latter could not succeed in making out any sort of a consistent tale or was it for instance a thing likely to occur to anyone as suspicious that according to the declaration of an elegant bow of these tea parties olympia had contrary to all good manners sneezed oftener than she had yawned the former must have been in the opinion of this elegant gentleman the winding up of the concealed clockwork it had always been accompanied by an observable creaking and so on the professor of poetry and eloquence took a pinch of snuff and slapping the lid to and clearing his throat said solemnly my most honorable ladies and gentlemen don't you see then where the rub is the whole thing is an allegory a continuous metaphor you understand me sapient decide but several most honorable gentlemen did not rest satisfied with this explanation the history of this automaton had sunk deeply into their souls and an absurd mistrust of human figures began to prevail several lovers in order to be fully convinced that they were not paying court to a wooden puppet required that their mistress should sing and dance a little out of time should embroider or knit or play with her little pug etc when being read to but above all things else that she should do something more than merely listen that she should frequently speak in such a way as to really show that her words presupposed as a condition some thinking and feeling the bonds of love were in many cases drawn closer in consequence and so of course became more engaging in other instances they gradually relaxed and fell away i cannot really be made responsible for it was the remark of more than one young galant at the tea gatherings everybody in order to ward off suspicion yawned to an incredible extent and never sneezed spell and sunny was obliged as has been said to leave the place in order to escape a criminal charge of having fraudulently imposed an automaton upon human society copula too had also disappeared when Nathaniel awoke he felt as if he had been oppressed by a terrible nightmare he opened his eyes and experienced an indescribable sensation of mental comfort whilst a soft and most beautiful sensation of warmth pervaded his body he lay on his own bed in his own room at home Clara was bending over him and at a little distance stood his mother and look there at last at last oh my darling Nathaniel now we have you again now you are cured of your grievous illness now you are mine again and Clara's words came from the depths of her heart and she clasped in her arms the bright scalding tears streamed from his eyes he was so overcome with mingled feelings of sorrow and delight and he gasped forth my Clara my Clara Sigmund who had staunchly stood by his friend in his hour of need now came into the room Nathaniel gave him his hand my faithful brother you have not deserted me every trace of insanity had left him and in the tender hands of his mother and his beloved and his friends he quickly recovered his strength again good fortune had in the meantime visited the house a niggardly old uncle from whom they had never expected to get anything had died and left Nathaniel's mother not only a considerable fortune but also a small estate pleasantly situated not far from the town there they resolved to go and live Nathaniel and his mother and Clara to whom he was now to be married and love there Nathaniel was become gentler and more childlike than he had ever been before and now began really to understand Clara's supremely pure and noble character none of them ever reminded him even in the remotest degree of the past but when Sigmund took leave of him he said by heaven brother i was in a bad way but an angel came just at the right moment and led me back upon the path of light yes it was Clara Sigmund would not let him speak further fearing lest the painful recollections of the past might arise too vividly and too intensely in his mind the time came for the four happy people to move to their little property that noon they were going through the streets after making several purchases they found that the lofty tower of the townhouse was throwing us giant shadows across the marketplace come say Clara let us go up to the top once more and have a look at the distant hills no sooner said than done both of them Nathaniel and Clara went up the tower their mother however went on with the servant girl to her new home and loath there not feeling inclined to climb up all the many steps way to below there the two lovers stood arm in arm on the topmost gallery of the tower and gazed out into the sweet-scented wooded landscape beyond which the blue hills rose up like a giant city oh do look at that strange little gray bush it looks as if it were actually walking towards us said Clara mechanically he put his hand into a side pocket he found Coppola's perspective and looked for the bush Clara stood in front of the glass then a convulsive thrill shot through his pulse and veins pale as a corpse he fixed his staring eyes upon her but soon they began to roll and a fiery current flashed and sparkled in them and he yelled fearfully like a hunted animal leaping up high in the air and laughing horribly at the same time he began to shout with a piercing voice spin round wooden doll spin round wooden doll with the strength of a giant he laid hold upon Clara and tried to hurl her over but in an agony of despair she clutched fast hold of the railing that went around the gallery Lothair heard the madman raging and Clara's scream of terror a fearful presentiment flashed across his mind he ran up the steps the door of the second flight was locked Clara's scream for help rang out more loudly mad with rage and fear he threw himself against the door which at length gave way Clara's cries were growing fainter and fainter help save me save me and her voice died away in the air she is killed murdered by that madman shouted Lothair the door to the gallery was also locked despair gave him the strength of a giant he burst the door off its hinges good god there was Clara in the grasp of the madman Nathaniel hanging over the gallery in the air she only held to the iron bar with one hand quick as lightning Lothair seized his sister and pulled her back at the same time dealing the madman a blow in the face with his double fist which sent him reeling backwards forcing him to let go his victim Lothair ran down with his insensible sister in his arms she was saved but Nathaniel ran round and round the gallery leaping up in the air and shouting spin round firewheel spin round firewheel the people heard the wild shouting and a crowd began to gather in the midst of them towered the advocate copelius like a giant he had only just arrived in the town and had gone straight to the marketplace some were going up to overpower and take charge of the madman but copelius laughed and said ha ha wait a bit he'll come down in his own accord and he stood gazing upwards along with the rest all at once Nathaniel stopped as if spellbound he bent down over the railing and perceived copelius with a piercing scream ha thoy noise thoy noise he leapt over when Nathaniel lay on the stone pavement with a broken head copelius had disappeared in the crush and confusion several years afterwards it was reported that outside the door of a pretty country house in a remote district claire had been sitting hand in hand with a pleasant gentleman whilst two bright boys were playing at her feet from this it may be concluded that she eventually found that quiet domestic happiness which her tearful blithesome character required and which Nathaniel with his tempest tossed soul would never have been able to give her end of the sandman recording by thonis copeland