lENZ
(Continued from page 46)
made him breathless. And now so dead! He despaired of himself; then
he went down on his knees, he wrung his hands, he stirred up everything
that was in him-but all was dead, quite dead! Then he implored God
to give him a sign, to work a miracle through him; then he tormented
himself, fasted, lay on the floor in a dream.
On the 3rd of February he heard that a child had died at Fouday;
Friederike was her name. He took this up like a fixed idea. He withdrew
to his room and fasted for one day. On the 4th he suddenly entered
Madame Oberlin's room; he had smeared his face with ashes and de–
manded an old sack. She was startled, but gave him what he wanted.
He wrapped the sack around himself like a penitent and set out for
Fouday. The people in the village were already used to him; many a
strange tale about him had circulated there. He entered the house
where the dead child lay. The people were pursuing their business indif–
ferently; he was shown to a room, the child was lying on straw placed
on a wooden table, dressed in her shirt.
Lenz shuddered when he touched her cold limbs and saw the half–
open, glassy eyes. The child seemed so forsaken, and he himself so feeble
and lonely. He threw himself down upon the dead body. Death frightened
him, a violent agony overcame him; these features, this still face would
have to decay-he went down on his knees, he prayed with all the
anguish of despair that God might work a miracle through him and
recall the child to life, weak and unhappy though he was: then he with–
drew into himself and concentrated all his will power upon one point.
For a long time he sat there motionless. Then he rose and clasped the
child's hands in his, and said loudly and earnestly: "Arise and walk!"
But soberly the walls re-echoed his voice, as though to mock him, and
the corpse remained cold. Half mad, he collapsed on the floor; then
terror seized him, he rushed out, and away into the mountains.
Clouds were passing swiftly across the moon; now all was in dark–
ness, now the nebulous, vanishing landscape was revealed in the moon–
light. He ran up and down. In his breast Hell was rehearsing a song
of triumph. The wind sounded like the singing of Titans. He felt capable
of clenching an enormous fist, thrusting it up into heaven, seizing God
and dragging Him through His clouds; capable of masticating the world
with his teeth and spitting it into the face of the Creator; he swore, he
