Phantastes, A Faerie Romance

"You think the price too high?" said the old man.

"I do not know that it is too much for you to ask," replied Cosmo; "but

it is far too much for me to give."

The old man held up his light towards Cosmo's face. "I like your look,"

said he.

Cosmo could not return the compliment. In fact, now he looked closely

at him for the first time, he felt a kind of repugnance to him, mingled

with a strange feeling of doubt whether a man or a woman stood before

him.

"What is your name?" he continued.

"Cosmo von Wehrstahl."

"Ah, ah! I thought as much. I see your father in you. I knew your father

very well, young sir. I dare say in some odd corners of my house, you

might find some old things with his crest and cipher upon them still.

Well, I like you: you shall have the mirror at the fourth part of what I

asked for it; but upon one condition."

"What is that?" said Cosmo; for, although the price was still a great

deal for him to give, he could just manage it; and the desire to possess

the mirror had increased to an altogether unaccountable degree, since it

had seemed beyond his reach.

"That if you should ever want to get rid of it again, you will let me

have the first offer."

"Certainly," replied Cosmo, with a smile; adding, "a moderate condition

indeed."

"On your honour?" insisted the seller.

"On my honour," said the buyer; and the bargain was concluded.

"I will carry it home for you," said the old man, as Cosmo took it in

his hands.

"No, no; I will carry it myself," said he; for he had a peculiar dislike

to revealing his residence to any one, and more especially to this

person, to whom he felt every moment a greater antipathy. "Just as you

please," said the old creature, and muttered to himself as he held his

light at the door to show him out of the court: "Sold for the sixth

time! I wonder what will be the upshot of it this time. I should think

my lady had enough of it by now!"

Cosmo carried his prize carefully home. But all the way he had an

uncomfortable feeling that he was watched and dogged. Repeatedly he

looked about, but saw nothing to justify his suspicions. Indeed, the

streets were too crowded and too ill lighted to expose very readily

a careful spy, if such there should be at his heels. He reached his

lodging in safety, and leaned his purchase against the wall, rather

relieved, strong as he was, to be rid of its weight; then, lighting his

pipe, threw himself on the couch, and was soon lapt in the folds of one

of his haunting dreams.