Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 4.djvu/126

106 have so often admired your self-command, count: give me this time opportunity to adore you. A warrior is worthy of honour, who considers himself a guest in the house of an enemy; but here there is no enemy, only a mistaking man. Control yourself, and you will acquire an everlasting fame."

"That would be odd," replied the count, with a smile.

"Merely natural," continued the interpreter: "I have not sent the wife and children to your feet, because I know you detest such scenes; but I will depict to you this wife and these children, how they will thank you. I will depict them to you conversing all their lives of the battle of Bergen, and of your magnanimity on this day, relating it to their children, and children's children, and inspiring even strangers with their own interest for you: an act of this kind can never perish."

"But you do not hit my weak side yet, interpreter. About posthumous fame I am not in the habit of thinking; that is for others, not for me: but to do right at the moment, not to neglect my duty, not to prejudice my honour,—that is my care. "We have already had too many words; now go—and receive the thanks of the thankless, whom I spare."

The interpreter, surprised and moved by this unexpectedly favourable issue, could not restrain his tears, and would have kissed the count's hands. The count motioned him off, and said severely and seriously, "You know I cannot bear such things." And with these words he went into the anteroom to attend to his pressing affairs, and hear the claims of so many expectant persons. So the matter was disposed of; and the next morning we celebrated, with the remnants of the yesterday's sweetmeats, the passing over of an evil through the threatenings of which we had happily slept.

Whether the interpreter really spoke so wisely, or