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Updated: June 29, 2025
"These people seem to have no need of recreation," Benda said. "They do not come here much. But I confess that I need air and relaxation, even if only for short snatches. I've been too busy to get away for long at a time, but this park has helped me keep my balance I'm here every day for at least a few minutes." "Beautiful place," I remarked. "A lot of strange trees and plants I never saw before "
All four stood there for a while, not knowing exactly what to think, and in the meantime it was snowing and raining. Asked by Benda where he wished to go, Daniel said he was going home. But what could he do at home? Why couldn’t he go home with Benda? “No,” said Daniel, “I can’t do that: I am a burden to every one to-day, including myself.
But she noticed that this man studied her, not as if she were a young married woman who were trying to please him and gain his sympathy, rather as a curious variety of the human species. There was something in his face that made her tremble with irritation, and all of a sudden her eyes were filled with hate and distrust. Benda felt sorry for her.
Daniel always talked about himself, and Benda listened with a smile. Or Benda talked about Daniel, and Daniel was all ears. What did people say? That Eleanore was now trotting around with three men, whereas she formerly had only one on her string, the Baron, and that you are going to hear from this affair. Every now and then a snip of ugly gossip reached Eleanore’s ears.
And in order to put the old man in as confidential a frame of mind as possible, he reminded him of a night when the three of them, Daniel, Herold, and Benda, had sat in the Mohren Cellar drinking wine and discussing things in general, important and unimportant, that have a direct bearing on life. The old man nodded; he recalled the evening.
After all the other people had gone, Daniel, Benda, Wurzelmann, and Eleanore came along. Daniel’s storm cape fluttered in the wind; his hat was drawn down over his eyes. Herr Carovius stepped up before him. “A heroic deed, my dear Nothafft,” he miauled. “I could embrace you. From this time on you can count me among your friends. Now stand still, you human being transformed into a hurricane.
He nevertheless understood his friend: the musician could not help but succumb to the charms of the phantom; the lonely man sought the least lonely of all human beings. As he was coming to this conclusion, Daniel entered the room. He greeted Benda, and said to Dorothea: “There is a girl outside who says she has some ostrich feathers for you. Did you order any feathers?”
Benda continued: “The great majority of what you call talent is ignominious. Talent is a feather duster. All that comes from the finger tips is evil. The man who has a distinct goal and is willing to suffer in order to reach it, that man we can use. And otherwise—how beautiful it all is after all! Heaven is above us, the earth is beneath us, and in between stands immortal man.”
In order to take the sting out of his impudent insinuations, for he regretted having made a premature move with his trump card, Carovius smiled in a scurrilous fashion, ducked his head, coward that he was, and riveted his greedy, banal eyes on Benda. But Benda was looking down. His eyes had been attracted by the fancy buckle shoes of Herr Carovius.
“Oh, yes,” replied Dorothea hastily, “it is a present from my friend, Emmy Büttinger.” “Who’s she?” “You don’t know her? Why, she is the sister of Frau Feistelmann. You must help me,” she said, turning to Benda, “for you must know all about this kind of things.
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