Phantastes, A Faerie Romance

We travelled on together all that day. She left me when twilight came

on; but next day, at noon, she met me as before, and again we travelled

till evening. The third day she came once more at noon, and we walked on

together. Now, though we had talked about a great many things connected

with Fairy Land, and the life she had led hitherto, I had never been

able to learn anything about the globe. This day, however, as we went

on, the shadow glided round and inwrapt the maiden. It could not change

her. But my desire to know about the globe, which in his gloom began to

waver as with an inward light, and to shoot out flashes of many-coloured

flame, grew irresistible. I put out both my hands and laid hold of it.

It began to sound as before. The sound rapidly increased, till it grew

a low tempest of harmony, and the globe trembled, and quivered, and

throbbed between my hands. I had not the heart to pull it away from the

maiden, though I held it in spite of her attempts to take it from me;

yes, I shame to say, in spite of her prayers, and, at last, her tears.

The music went on growing in, intensity and complication of tones, and

the globe vibrated and heaved; till at last it burst in our hands, and

a black vapour broke upwards from out of it; then turned, as if blown

sideways, and enveloped the maiden, hiding even the shadow in its

blackness. She held fast the fragments, which I abandoned, and fled from

me into the forest in the direction whence she had come, wailing like

a child, and crying, "You have broken my globe; my globe is broken--my

globe is broken!" I followed her, in the hope of comforting her; but

had not pursued her far, before a sudden cold gust of wind bowed the

tree-tops above us, and swept through their stems around us; a great

cloud overspread the day, and a fierce tempest came on, in which I lost

sight of her. It lies heavy on my heart to this hour. At night, ere I

fall asleep, often, whatever I may be thinking about, I suddenly hear

her voice, crying out, "You have broken my globe; my globe is broken;

ah, my globe!"

Here I will mention one more strange thing; but whether this peculiarity

was owing to my shadow at all, I am not able to assure myself. I came

to a village, the inhabitants of which could not at first sight be

distinguished from the dwellers in our land. They rather avoided than

sought my company, though they were very pleasant when I addressed them.

But at last I observed, that whenever I came within a certain distance

of any one of them, which distance, however, varied with different

individuals, the whole appearance of the person began to change; and

this change increased in degree as I approached. When I receded to the

former distance, the former appearance was restored. The nature of the

change was grotesque, following no fixed rule. The nearest resemblance

to it that I know, is the distortion produced in your countenance when

you look at it as reflected in a concave or convex surface--say, either

side of a bright spoon. Of this phenomenon I first became aware in

rather a ludicrous way. My host's daughter was a very pleasant pretty

girl, who made herself more agreeable to me than most of those about me.