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Authors: Johann Grimmelshausen

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BOOK: Simplicissimus
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These instructions were completely unnecessary, however, since my tutor himself was given to a dissolute life. How could he forbid me what he did himself? How could he take me to task for my minor misdemeanours when he committed much worse? By nature he was most inclined to boozing and whoring, I to fighting and brawling, so that I was soon roving the streets at night with him and his cronies and learnt more lechery from him than Latin. As far as my studies were concerned, I could rely on my good memory and quick mind, which made me even more casual in my approach to them; for the rest I was already deep in all kinds of mischief, vice and villainy. My conscience was already so accommodating a hay-cart could have driven through it. I didn’t care as long as I could read stories by Aretino, Berni or Burchiello during the sermon, and the part of the mass I looked forward to most was
ite missa est
.

At the same time I thought no end of my appearance and dressed in all the latest fashions. Every day was a feast day or carnival to me, and since I behaved as a man of substance and spent both the generous allowance my father sent me and the lavish pocket-money from my mother as if the supply were inexhaustible, the young ladies began to take an interest in us, especially my tutor. From those little minxes I learnt to woo, wench and gamble; quarrelling, fighting and brawling I could do already and my tutor did not stop me boozing and guzzling either, since he liked to join in himself. This glorious life lasted for eighteen months, until it was reported to my father by his agent in Liege, with whom we had boarded at first. He received orders to get rid of the tutor and keep a closer eye and a tighter rein on both me and my money. This annoyed both of us and although my tutor was dismissed we still kept company together, day and night. Since, however, we no longer had as much money to throw around as we had before, we joined a gang that snatched people’s coats from them at night, sometimes even throwing the owners into the Meuse. The money we got from these highly dangerous operations we squandered with our whores and let our studies go hang.

Then one night when, as was our habit, we were prowling round trying to filch students’ coats, we were overpowered, my tutor stabbed to death and I, along with five others who were real rogues, caught and locked up. When we were questioned the next day I named my father’s agent, who was a well-respected man, to vouch for me. They sent for him, asked him about me and released me on his security and on condition I stayed in his house under arrest until further notice. In the meantime my tutor was buried, the other five convicted of theft, robbery and murder and sentenced, and my father informed of my situation. He came straight to Liege, sorted out my problem with money, gave me a good talking to and told me how much worry and unhappiness I had caused him and my mother, who was close to despair at my terrible behaviour. He threatened that if I did not mend my ways he would disinherit me and send me packing. I promised to be good from now on and rode home with him. Thus ended my student days.’

Chapter 20
 
The ex-student returns home then says farewell, seeking preferment in the wars
 

‘When my father got me back home he decided I was depraved through and through. I had not become the respectable scholar he had presumably hoped for, but a squabbler and a braggart who imagined he knew everything. I had scarcely warmed my hands at the fire when he said, “Listen Oliver, I can see your asses’ ears growing even as I look at them. You’re no use to anyone, a dead weight, a scoundrel who’s good for nothing! You’re too old to learn a trade, too ill-mannered to serve a master, and completely unfit to learn my business and carry it on. What have I achieved with all the money I spent on you? I hoped you’d be my pride and joy. I wanted to make a real man of you and what is the result? I’ve had to pay to save you from the hangman! Oh the shame of it! The best thing would be to put you in a treadmill until you’ve atoned for your wicked behaviour and sweated it out of your system.”

I had to listen to sermons like this almost every day until my patience ran out and I told my father it wasn’t my fault, but his own and my tutor’s, who had led me astray. It served him right if he had no joy of me; his parents had none of him, who left them in penury to starve. At that he grabbed a stick to pay me out for telling him the truth, swearing by all that was holy he would send me to the goal in Amsterdam. I ran off and that same night I went to the farm he had just bought, took the best stallion in the stable when no one was looking and set out for Cologne.

I sold the horse and soon found myself once more in the company of the kind of thieves and rogues I had left behind in Liege. They recognised me at once by the way I played cards, and I them: we both knew the same tricks. I immediately joined their gang and helped them break into houses at night whenever I could. However, I lost my taste for thieving shortly afterwards when one of us was caught in the Old Market trying to snatch a plump purse from a lady, more especially when I saw him stand in the stocks with an iron collar half the day, then have one ear cut off and receive a good thrashing. At that time the colonel we served under at Magdeburg was recruiting men to strengthen his regiment, so I enlisted as a soldier. In the meantime my father had heard where I was and wrote to his agent to find out what I was doing. This happened just after I had taken the emperor’s shilling, which the agent reported to my father, who told him to buy me out, whatever the cost. Hearing of this, I was afraid he was going to send me to prison and didn’t want to be bought out. However when the colonel heard I was the son of a rich merchant, he set such a high price on my freedom that my father left me where I was with the idea of letting me cool my heels in the army for a while to see if I might mend my ways.

It wasn’t long afterwards that the colonel’s clerk died and he appointed me in his place, as you know. Then I began to have hopes of rising step by step, even, perhaps of ending up as a general. I learnt from the secretary what kind of behaviour was expected and my ambition led me to assume a decent and respectable manner instead of getting up to my old tricks. However, I still made no progress, but then the secretary died and I told myself I must make sure I got his post. I was as free with my money as possible; when my mother heard I had turned over a new leaf she started sending me money again. But young Herzbruder was the colonel’s favourite. He was preferred to me and being convinced the colonel was going to give him the secretary’s post I decided to get rid of him. In my impatience to ensure my promotion I got the provost-sergeant to make me proof against all weapons, intending to challenge Herzbruder to a duel and settle matters with the sword. However, I never managed to find the right opportunity and the provost-sergeant also advised against it, saying, “Even if you do dispose of him, it’ll do you more harm than good because you’ll have murdered the colonel’s favourite.” He suggested it would be better if I stole something when Herzbruder was also present and passed it on to him – the provost-sergeant – and he would see to it that Herzbruder lost the colonel’s favour. I fell in with this and took the silver-gilt goblet at the colonel’s christening party and gave it to the provost-sergeant, who used it to get young Herzbruder out of the way when, as you’ll doubtless remember, he filled your clothes with little puppies by magic.’

Chapter 21
 
How Simplicius fulfilled Herzbruder’s prophecy to Oliver when neither recognised the other
 

When I heard Oliver tell me with his own lips what he had done to my dearest friend I saw red, yet could not take revenge; on the contrary, I had to suppress my reaction so that he wouldn’t notice how I felt, so I asked him to tell me what had happened to him after the battle of Wittstock.

‘In that encounter’, he said, ‘I didn’t behave like a pen-pusher who looks no further than his inkwell, but like a true soldier. I had a good mount, I was sword- and bullet-proof and I wasn’t assigned to any particular squadron, so I gave a demonstration of my valour, like a man who is determined to rise in the world through his sword or die. I rushed hither and thither round our brigade, looking to involve myself and show that I was more use for fighting than writing. It was no good, however, luck was with the Swedes and I had to share our general misfortune and accept the quarter I had been refusing not long before.

With other prisoners I was put into an infantry regiment which was sent to Pomerania to get back up to strength. Since there were many new recruits and I had given proof of outstanding bravery, I was made corporal. However, I had no intention of spending longer sitting on my backside there than was necessary. I was determined to rejoin the imperial army, since that was where I felt I belonged, even though I would doubtless have had better chances of promotion with the Swedes. My escape I arranged as follows. I was sent with seven musketeers to bring in the arrears of war-levies from an out-of-the-way part of the district where we were quartered. When I had collected more than 800 guilders I showed the money to my men till their eyes glittered greedily and we agreed to share it and decamp together. When we had done that, I persuaded three of them to help me shoot the other four. We then redistributed their share so that we had two hundred guilders each and set off for Westphalia. On the way I persuaded one of the three to help me shoot the other two and, when we started dividing up the spoils, I strangled him and thus had the eight hundred guilders when I reached Werl, where I enlisted and had a good time with all the money.

At the time when this was running out, though not my taste for high living, I heard a lot about a young soldier in Soest who had taken a large amount of booty, making a great name for himself into the bargain, and I was encouraged to emulate him. Because of his green dress people called him the Huntsman, so I had a similar outfit made and proceeded to steal under his name in the territories of both our regiments, going to such extremes that they threatened to ban both of us from foraging. At that he stayed in his quarters, but I continued my pilfering as much as I could under his name so that the Huntsman issued a challenge to me. Let the devil fight him, not me! In fact, I was told he had the devil behind him, so he would have made short work of my bullet-proof skin!

However, he was too clever for me in the end. With the help of his servant he inveigled me into a sheep-fold along with my comrade and tried to force me to fight with him there and then, in the moonlight and in the presence of two demons he had brought as seconds. When I refused, he forced me to do the most humiliating thing in the world, which my comrade told people about. I was so ashamed I ran away to Lippstadt and took service with the Hessians. However, they didn’t trust me so I didn’t stay there for long but trotted off to join the Dutch. There I found I was paid more punctually, but life in their army was too boring for my liking. Discipline was as strict as in a monastery and we were expected to live as chastely as nuns.

Now I didn’t dare show my face among the imperial, Swedish or Hessian forces, having deserted from all three, and it was about time for me to leave the Dutch as well since I had raped a girl and it looked as if the fruit of my act was soon to see the light of day. I decided to take refuge with the Spanish army, hoping I could get home from there to see what my parents were doing. But when I tried to put my plan into effect my compass went haywire and I ended up with the Bavarians and joined the troop of Merode’s Brethren following them. I marched with them from Westphalia to the Breisgau and kept myself by gambling and stealing. When I had money I spent my days in the gaming yard, my nights in the wine-booths, and when I had nothing I stole whatever I could find. I often stole two or three horses in one day, both from the pasture and the stables, sold them and gambled away the proceeds. At night I would sneak into people’s tents and take their most valuable possessions from under their very heads. When we were on the march and going through a narrow pass I would keep a sharp eye on the knapsacks the women carried and cut them off. In this way I managed to keep body and soul together until after the Battle of Wittenweier, where I was captured and once more put into an infantry regiment, this time as a Weimar soldier. However, I didn’t like the camp before Breisach so I quickly deserted and set up as a soldier on my own account, as you can see. And since then I’ve dispatched many a proud fellow and earned a deal of money, I can tell you. I don’t intend to stop until the supply dries up. And now it’s your turn to tell me what you’ve been doing.’

Chapter 22
 
What happened to Oliver when he let the cat out of the bag
 

When Oliver had finished I couldn’t get over my astonishment at the workings of Divine Providence. I came to see how the Lord in His fatherly goodness had not only protected me from this monster when I was in Westphalia but had contrived that he should go in fear of me. Only then did I realise what a trick I had played on him, which old Herzbruder had prophesied but which Oliver, as I reported in Chapter 16, had interpreted differently, and to my great advantage. If this fiend had known that I was the Huntsman of Soest, he would certainly have paid me back for what I did to him in the sheep-fold. I also thought how wise Herzbruder had been to couch his predictions in such obscure form, and yet, although his prophesies generally came true, it was difficult to see how, except by some bizarre twist of fate, I was going to avenge the death of a man who deserved the gallows and the wheel. I also realised how fortunate it was that I had not told my story first. If I had, I would have revealed to him how I had humiliated him. While these thoughts were going through my mind I noticed some marks on his face which had not been there in the camp outside Magdeburg and I assumed the scars were a memento of Tearaway, who, disguised as a demon, had scratched him all over the face. So I asked him where they came from, adding that although he was telling me his life story, he must be keeping quiet about the best part since he hadn’t told me who had marked him like that.

BOOK: Simplicissimus
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