The Man Who Sold His Shadow
What was my horror to see the man in grey come behind with the evident purpose of accosting me. He raised his hat and bowed with a more profound obeisance than I had ever been honoured with. I returned the courtesy, and stood bare-headed in the sun as if rooted to the ground. I stared at him in an agony of terror, like a bird under the spell of a serpent. He seemed greatly embarrassed, did not raise his eyes, bowed repeatedly, approached me, and began to speak in a gentle, wavering voice, with the tone of a mendicant.
“I trust your Honour will have the kindness to pardon my presumption in venturing to address you, being a stranger. I have a very particular request to make. Graciously permit me, sir——”
“For heaven’s sake,” I cried in terror, “what can I do for a man who——” We both stopped, and, as it seemed to me, we blushed.
After a moment of silence he began again. “During the short time that it was my good fortune to enjoy the presence of your company, I have had occasion more than once to gaze—if you will permit me to say so—with inexpressible admiration upon the well-formed, handsome shadow which, with an air of noble disdain, as if scorning to set any value upon it, you cast behind you. It is a superb shadow you have there lying at your feet. Pardon the temerity of the suggestion; would it be possible to induce you to sell this same shadow to me?”
He ceased speaking, and it seemed as if a wheel were going around in my head. What was I to make of this remarkable proposition? He must be crazy, I thought, and in an altered voice, more suited to the humility of his tone, I replied—
“Go to, good friend; have you not enough with your own shadow? What you propose is a very strange bargain.” He interrupted me with, “I have many a useful thing in my pocket that your Honour might find convenient; for this inestimable shadow there is no price I should deem too high. To show my gratitude to you, sir, I would give you your own choice of all the treasures I carry about with me. I have miraculous wands of the witch-hazel, I have Mercury’s cap and potent draughts, the dish-cloth of Roland’s page, and a Homunculus, but best of all is the magic purse of Fortunatus.” “A magic purse,” I interrupted him, and great as was my horror, he had captured my sensibilities with that word. A deathly giddiness came over me, and rows of ducats seemed to twinkle before my eyes.
“Would your Honour have the goodness to examine the purse?” He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a medium-sized, strongly-made bag of leather, with heavy leather cords for draw-strings, and handed me the same. I put my hand in and pulled out ten golden coins, and ten more, and ten more, and ten more. I held out my hand to him: “It is a bargain; for the bag I’ll give you my shadow.” He clasped my hand to seal the bargain, and then quickly knelt down before me, and with marvellous dexterity loosening my shadow from the grass, he lifted it, rolled it up, folded it, and at last put it in his pocket. He arose, bowed once more, and then vanished among the rose bushes. Methought I heard him laugh softly to himself. I held the bag tightly in my hands. Round about me the earth was bright with sunshine, and within me there was as yet no wisdom.
Meanwhile it had grown late, and, unnoticed, the dawn preceding sunrise was brightening the sky. It was a very unpleasant surprise when I looked up and saw the glory of colour unfold in the east. There was no refuge on this open plain that I was traversing from the approaching sun, and that too at an hour when shadows sport their utmost extension! And I was not alone! I glanced at my companion, and once more I trembled. He was no other than the man in grey.
He smiled at my consternation, and continued, without giving me time to speak: “Let us, true to the custom of the world, be united for a while by the reciprocal advantages to be derived from such a union; we have time enough to separate later on. This road which you are taking happens to be my road also. I see you turn pale before the rising sun. I will lend you your shadow for the time of our companionship, and in return I will ask you to tolerate me at your side. You have lost your servant Bendel; I will yield you as good service. You do not look upon me with favour; this I greatly regret. I can be of service to you, nevertheless. The devil is not as black as he is painted. It is true you offended me yesterday; to-day I bear you no ill-will, and I have shortened the way for you so far, as you yourself must confess. Will you not give your shadow a trial?”
The sun had risen, early wayfarers came along the road; however distasteful it might be, I accepted his proposal. Smiling, he allowed my shadow to glide upon the ground. It fell into place on the shadow of my horse, and cheerily trotted along beside me. Strange feelings took possession of me. I rode past a group of country people, who, with uncovered head, respectfully made room for a person of quality. I rode on, and looked with greedy eyes and a beating heart down from my horse upon the shadow that once was mine, and which I had now borrowed from a stranger, ay, from an enemy.
The latter walked unconcernedly beside me, whistling a tune—he on foot, I on horseback! A tremor seized me; the temptation was too great; I suddenly turned my horse’s head, gave him the spurs, and off I went in a full canter down a byway; but I did not succeed in bringing the shadow with me; as the horse turned it slipped down, and awaited its lawful master in the road. There was nothing for it but a shamefaced admission of defeat. I rode back, and the man in grey, first finishing the tune he was whistling, laughed at me, pulled my shadow straight again, and informed me that it would not stick to me, and be content to stay with me, until it was once more my lawful property. “I hold you by your shadow,” he added; “and you will not escape me. A rich man like you cannot get on without a shadow. You are to be blamed in so far as you did not find that out before.”
A. von Chamisso (1781-1838).