"And, if I might venture to ask, what sort of a thing is that soul of
yours? Have you ever seen it? And what do you think of doing with it
when you are dead? Be glad that you have found an amateur who in your
lifetime is willing to pay you for the bequest of this _x_, of this
galvanic power, or polarized Activity, or what-ever-this silly thing
may be, with something actual; that is to say, with your real shadow,
through which you may arrive at the hand of your beloved and at the
accomplishment of all your desires. Will you rather push forth, and
deliver up that poor young creature to that low bred scoundrel Rascal?
No, you must witness that with your own eyes. Here, I lend you the
magic-cap"--he drew it from his pocket--"and we will proceed unseen to
the Forester's garden."
I must confess that I was excessively ashamed of being derided by this
man. I detested him from the bottom of my heart; and I believe that
this personal antipathy withheld me, more than principle or prejudice,
from purchasing my shadow, essential as it was, by the required
signature. The thought also was intolerable to me of making the
excursion which he proposed, in his company. To see this abhorred
sneak, this mocking kobold, step between me and my beloved, two torn
and bleeding hearts, revolted my innermost feeling. I regarded what
was past as predestined, and my wretchedness as unchangeable, and
turning to the man, I said to him--
"Sir, I have sold you my shadow for this in itself most excellent
purse, and I have sufficiently repented of it.
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