Johann Ludwig Teick's Vampire Story Modernized; "Wake Not the Dead"

1. "Will you sleep forever? Will you never again awaken, my beloved, but henceforth repose for ever from your short pilgrimage on earth? Oh, once again return, bringing with you the life-giving dawning of hope to me; my existence has, since your death, been full of hopelessness. What! Speechless? for ever speechless? I lament, and you pay me no attention? I shed bitter, scalding tears, and you sleep still, ignoring my affliction? I am in despair, and you no longer open your arms to me to hide me from my grief? Say then, does the pale shroud become you better than the bridal veil? Is the chamber of the grave a warmer bed than the couch of our love? Is the specter of death more welcome to your arms than me? Oh! return my love, return once again to this inconsolable bosom." Such were the laments that Walter poured forth for his Brunhilda, the partner of his youthful passionate love; thus did he wail over her grave at midnight, the time when the spirit that presides in the troubled atmosphere sends his legions of monsters through mid-air, so that their shadows, as they flit beneath the moon and across the earth dart as wild, agitating thoughts that chase each other over the sinner's bosom; thus did he lament under the tall linden trees by her gave, while his head reclined on the cold stone.

2. Walter was a powerful lord in Burgundy, who, in his early youth had been smitten with the charms of the fair Brunhilda, a beauty far surpassing in loveliness all her rivals; her hair was dark as the raven face of night, streaming over her shoulders, set off to the utmost advantage the sweetness of her slender form, and the rich dye of a cheek whose tint was deep and brilliant as that of the western heaven. Her eyes bore no resemblance to the stars that glowed in the night sky whose immeasurable distance fills the soul with deep thoughts of eternity, but instead were the sober beams which cheer this world, enlightening, kindling the sons of earth to joy and love.

3. Brunhilda became Walter's wife, and both being equally enamored and devoted, they abandoned themselves to the enjoyment of a passion that rendered them reckless of all else, while lulling them in a fascinating dream. Their sole fear was that something would awaken them from the delirium which they preyed would never end. Yet how vain is the wish that would stop the decree of destiny; one might as well try to divert the circling planets from their eternal course. Their passion for each other did not last long, not that it decayed and subsided into apathy, death snatched away his loving wife leaving Walter to a widowed couch. Although the first flush of his grief was intense, it did not last forever; before too long another the widow took another wife.

4. Swanhilda was also beautiful; although her charms were very different from those of Brunhilda. She had golden hair that waved bright as the beams of the morning sun, and only when excited by some emotion did a rosy hue tinge the lily paleness of her cheek; her limbs were well proportioned; her eyes spoke eloquently, but it was with the radiance of a minor star, tranquillizing to tenderness rather than exciting to warmth. She was formed so differently from his former love that it as not possible that she could excite the same passion in his heart, although she rendered his waking hours happy -- tranquil and serious, yet cheerful, she studied her husbands preferences in all things and restored order and comfort to his home, shedding a comforting influence all around. Her mild benevolence tended to restrain Walter's passionate, fiery, and impetuous disposition; while at the same time her prudence recalled him in some degree from his vain, turbulent wishes, and his pursuit of unattainable enjoyments, to the duties and pleasures of actual life. Swanhilda bore two children, a son and a daughter. She was a mild and patient mother, well contented in her solitary times, yet even in these solitary times she displayed the serious turn of her character. The boy possessed his fathers fiery, restless disposition, tempered by the solidity of his mother. Attached by his offspring more tenderly towards their mother, Walter now lived quite happily for several years; although his thoughts would return now and then to Brunhilda, they did so less violently and merely as a person would dwell on the memory of a friend borne from us on the rapid current of time to a region where we know that he is happy.

5. But clouds dissolve into air, flowers fade, the sands of an hourglass run imperceptibly away, and human feelings dissolve, fade, and pass away, and with them human happiness. Walter's inconstant breast again sighed for the ecstatic dreams of those days which he had spent with his equally romantic, enamored Brunhilda. In his memory she again presented herself to his ardent fancy in all the glow of her bridal charm, and he began to draw parallel between the past and the present; nor did imagination fail to array her in her former beauty. He pictured himself so much richer in enjoyment of the former, and the other, much less so than they really were.

6. This change in her husband did not escape Swanhilda; whereupon she redoubled her attentions towards him, and her care towards their children. She expected by these means to reunite the know that was slackening, yet the more she tried to regain his affection, the colder he seemed to grow, and the more intolerable did her touch become, and the more continually the image of Brunhilda haunted his thoughts. The children, whose endearments were now indispensable to him, alone joined their parents as genii eager to affect a reconciliation; and, beloved by them both, formed a uniting link between them. Yet, as evil can be plucked from the heart of man only before the root has yet struck deep, its fangs afterwards too firm to be eradicated, so was Walter's diseased fancy too far affected to have its disorder stopped; in a short time it completely tyrannized over him. Frequently, instead of retiring to his wife's chamber, he went to Brunhilda's grave, where he murmured forth his discontent, saying, "Will you sleep forever?"

7. One night as he reclined on the grass indulging in his normal sorrow, a sorcerer from the neighboring mountains entered the graveyard to gather such herbs as grow only from the earth where the dead sleep, herbs which are gifted with a powerful and supernatural influence. The sorcerer perceived the mourner, and approached the spot where he way lying. "Why, fond wretch, do you grieve so for what is now a hideous mass of mortality, mere bones, and nerves, and veins? Nations have fallen unlamented; even worlds themselves, long before this world of ours was created, have moldered into nothing. No one has wept over them; why then should you indulge this vain affliction for a child of the dust, a being as frail as yourself, and like you the creature of but a moment?"

8. Walter raised himself up and lamented, "let the worlds shine in the sky lamenting for each other as they perish. It is true that I who am myself clay lament for my fellow-clay: yet this is clay impregnated with a fire, with an essence that none of the elements of creation possess, with love, and this divine passion I felt for her who lays beneath this sod."

9. "Will your complaints awaken her? Or could they do so, would she not soon scold you for having disturbed that sleep in which she is now hushed?"

10. "Go away, cold-hearted being, you don't know what love is! Oh, that my tears could wash away the earthy covering that conceals her from these eyes; that my groan of anguish could rouse her from her slumber of death! No, she would not again seek her earthy couch (her grave)."

11. "Senseless as you are, could you endure gazing without shuddering on one disgorged from the grave? Are you the same person from whom she parted? Or has time passed over your brow and left no traces there? Would your love not be converted into hate?" 12."Say instead that the stars would leave the heavens, and the sun will henceforth refuse to shed his beams. Oh, that she stood once more before me, that once again she slept on my bosom! How quickly should we then forget that death or time had ever stepped between us."

13. "Delusion, mere delusion of the brain from over-heated blood, like that which arises from the fumes of wine. It is not my wish to tempt you, to restore to you your dead, or would you soon feel that I have spoken truth."

14. "How could you restore her to me?" exclaimed Walter, casting himself at the sorcerer's feet. "Oh, if you are indeed able to do that, grant it to me at my urgent plea if one throb of human feeling vibrate in your breast. Let my tears prevail with you, restore my beloved to me. You shall hereafter bless the deed, and see that it was a good work."

15. "A good work! A blessed deed!" returned the sorcerer with a smile of scorn, "for me there exists neither good nor evil since my will is always the same. You alone know evil, who will for that you know you should not. It is indeed in my power to restore her to you, yet you should think long and hard as to whether it will indeed prove to your benefit. Consider also how deep the abyss between life and death; across this abyss my power can build a bridge, but it can never fill up the frightful chasm."

16.Walter would have spoken, seeking to prevail upon this powerful being by fresh pleas, but the latter prevented him, saying, "Peace! Think well about what you want, and return here to me tomorrow night at midnight. Yet I warn you again, 'Wake not the Dead!'"

17. Having uttered these words, they mysterious being disappeared. Drunk with fresh hope, Walter found no sleep on his couch, for fancy, prodigal of the richest stores, expanded before him the glittering possibility of having his fondest wish granted. During the next day, we wandered through the woods, fearful of being reminders of her death might disturb his blissful hope that he would again fold her in his arms, gaze on her beaming brow by day, repose on her bosom at night. As this idea filled his imagination, how was it possible that the least doubt should arise, or that the warning of the mysterious old man should recur to his thoughts?

17.No sooner did the midnight hour approach, than he hurried to the grave-field where the sorcerer was already standing by that of Brunhilda. "Have you maturely considered ?" he inquired.

18. "Restore to me the object of my ardent passion," exclaimed Walter with impetuous eagerness. "Don't delay your generous action, lest I die this night, consumed with disappointed desire at beholding her face no more."

19."Well then," answered the old man, "return here again tomorrow at the same hour. But once more I give you this friendly warning, 'Wake not the dead.' "

20.Walter would have prostrated himself at his feet in the despair of impatience, and begged him to fulfill at once a desire now increased to agony, but the sorcerer had already disappeared. Pouring forth his lamentations more wildly and impetuously than ever, he lay upon the grave of his adored one, until the gray dawn streaked the east. During the day, which seemed to him longer than any he had ever experienced, he wandered to and fro, restless and impatient, seemingly without any object to his wandering, deeply buried in his own reflection. The stars of evening found him once more at the appointed spot. At midnight the sorcerer was there also.

22."What I demand of you is what you have promised me -- that which will prove my bliss. Or do you only mock me? If so, get out of my sight, or I will be tempted to strike you."

23."Once more do I warn you," answered the old man with undisturbed composure, "Wake not the dead -- let her rest."

24."Aye, but not in the cold grave: she shall rather rest on this bosom which burns with eagerness to clasp her."

25."Reflect on your choice, you may not leave her until death, even though aversion and horror should seize your heart. There would then remain only one horrible means to rid yourself of her."

26."Old fool!" cried Walter, interrupting him, "how may I hate that very thing which I love with such intensity of passion? How should I hate that for which my every drop of blood is boiling?"

28.The old man now drew a circle around the grave, all the while muttering words of enchantment. Immediately the storm began to howl among the tops of the trees; owls flapped their wings, and uttered their low voice of omen; the stars hid their mild, beaming aspect, so that they might not behold such an unholy and impious spectacle; the stone then rolled from the grave with a hollow sound, leaving a free passage for the inhabitant of that dreadful tenement. The sorcerer scattered roots and herbs of the most magic power into the yawning earth. The worms crawling forth from the earth congregated together, and raised themselves in a fiery column over the grave: while rushing wind burst from the earth, scattering the mould before it, until at length the coffin lay uncovered. The moonbeams fell on it, and the lid burst open with a tremendous sound. The sorcerer poured some blood out of a human skull on the exposed grave, exclaiming at the same time, "Drink, sleeper, of this warm stream, that your heart may again beat within your bosom." And, after a short pause, shedding on her some other mystic liquid, he cried aloud with the voice of one inspired: "Yes, thy heart beats once more with the flood of life: your eye is again opened to sight. Arise, therefore, from the tomb."

29."As an island suddenly springs forth from the dark waves of the ocean, raised upwards from the deep by the force of subterraneous fires, so did Brunhilda start from her earthy couch, borne forward by some invisible power. Taking her by the hand, the sorcerer led her towards Walter, who stood at some little distance, rooted to the ground with amazement.

30."Receive again," he said, "the object of your passionate sighs: may you never require my aid again; should that happen; however, you will find me during the full of the moon upon the mountains in that spot where the three roads meet."

31."Instantly Walter recognized in the form that stood before him the woman whom he so ardently loved; and a sudden glow shot through his frame at finding her thus restored to him: yet the night-frost had chilled his limbs and palsied his tongue. For a while he gazed upon her without either motion or speech, and during this pause, all was again hushed and serene; and the stars shone brightly in the clear heavens.

32."Walter!" exclaimed the figure, and at once the well-known sound, thrilling to his heart, broke the spell by which he was bound.

34."No, it is no imposture; I am really living: conduct me quickly to your castle in the mountains."

35.Walter looked around: the old man had disappeared, but he perceived close by his side a coal-black steed of fiery eye, already equipped to conduct him away. On its back lay proper clothing for Brunhilda who lost no time in changing into the provided clothing. This being done, she cried; "Haste, let us away before the dawn breaks, for my eye is yet too weak to endure the light of day." Fully recovered from his stupor, Walter leaped into his saddle, and catching her up with a mingled feeling of delight and awe the beloved being thus mysteriously restored from the power of the grave, he spurred on across the wild, towards the mountains, as furiously as if pursued by the shadows of the dead, hastening to recover from him their sister.

36.The castle to which Walter conducted his Brunhilda was situated on a rock between other rocks which rose up above it. Here they arrived unseen by anyone except one aged domestic, on whom Walter imposed secrecy by the severest threats.

37."Here will we tarry," said Brunhilda, "until I can endure the light, and until you can look upon me without trembling as if struck with a cold chill." They accordingly continued to make that place their abode; their meals were provided by the one aged domestic. During seven entire days they had no light except that of candles: during the next seven, the light was admitted through the lofty casements only while the rising or setting-sun faintly illumined the mountain-tops, the valley being still enveloped in shade.

38.Seldom did Walter leave Brunhilda's side: a nameless spell seemed to attach him to her, and even the shudder which he felt in her presence and which would not permit him to touch her, was not unmixed with pleasure; he rather sought, therefore, than avoided this feeling. Often too as he had indulged in calling to mind the beauties of Brunhilda, she had never appeared so fair, so fascinating, so admirable when depicted by his imagination as when now beheld her, returned to him, in reality. Never till now had her voice sounded with such tones of sweetness; never before did her language possess such eloquence as it now did, when she conversed with him on the subject of the past. This was the magic fairy-land towards which her words constantly conducted him: she dwelled upon the days of their first love, those hours of delight which they had together when the one derived all enjoyment from the other. So rapturous, so enchanting, so full of life did she recall to his imagination that blissful season, that he even doubted whether he had ever experienced with her so much felicity, or had been so truly happy. And, while she thus vividly portrayed their hours of past delight, she delineated in still more glowing, more enchanting colors, those hours of approaching bliss which now awaited them, richer in enjoyment than any preceding ones. In this manner she charmed her attentive auditor with enrapturing hopes for the future, and lulled him into dreams of more than mortal ecstasy; so that while he listened to her siren strain he entirely forgot how little blissful was the latter period of their union, when he had often sighed at her imperiousness, and at her harshness both to himself and all his household. Yet even had he recalled this to mind would it have disturbed him in his present delirious trance? Had she not now left behind in the grave all the frailty of mortality? Was not her whole being refined and purified by that long sleep in which neither passion nor sin had approached her even in dreams? How different now was the subject of her discourse! Only when speaking of her affection for him, did she betray anything of earthly feeling: at other times, she uniformly dwelt upon themes relating to the invisible and future world; when in declaring the mysteries of eternity, a stream of prophetic eloquence would burst from her lips.

39.In this manner twice seven days passed, and, for the first time, Walter beheld the being now dearer to him than ever in the full light of day. Every trace of the grave had disappeared from her countenance; a roseate tinge like the ruddy streaks of dawn again beamed on her pallid cheek; the faint, moldering taint of the grave was changed into a delightful violet scent; the only sign of earth that never disappeared. He no longer felt either apprehension or awe, as he gazed upon her in the sunny light of day: it was not until now that he seemed to have recovered her completely; and, glowing with all his former passion towards her, he would have pressed her to his bosom, but she gently repulsed him, saying, "Not yet! Spare your caresses until the moon has again filled her horn."

40In spite of his impatience, Walter was obliged to await until another period of seven days slowly crawled past: but finally, on the night when the moon arrived at the full, he hastened to Brunhilda, whom he found more lovely than she had ever appeared before. Fearing no obstacles to his transports, he embraced with all the fervor of a deeply enamored and successful lover. Brunhilda, however, still refused to yield to his passion. "What!" exclaimed she, "is it fitting that I, who have been purified by death from the frailty of mortality, should become thy concubine, while a mere daughter of the earth bears the title of your wife? It shall never be. No, it must be within the walls of your palace, within that chamber where I once reigned as queen, that thou obtain the end of your wishes, -- and of mine also," she added, imprinting a glowing kiss on the lips, then immediately disappearing from the room.

40.Heated with passion, and determined to sacrifice everything to the accomplishment of his desires, Walter hastily left the apartment, and shortly after the castle itself. He traveled over mountain and across heath, with the rapidity of a storm, so that the turf was flung up by his horse's hoofs; he didn't once stop until he arrived home.

41.Once he arrived home, neither the affectionate caresses of Swanhilda, or those of his children could touch his heart, or induce him to restrain his furious desires. Alas! is the impetuous torrent to be checked in its devastating course by the beauteous flowers over which it rushes, when they exclaim, "Destroyer, commiserate with our helpless innocence and beauty, don't lay us waste?" The stream sweeps over them irregardless, and a single moment annihilates the pride of a whole summer.

42.Shortly afterwards, Walter began to hint to Swanhilda that they were ill-suited to each other; that he was anxious to taste that wild, tumultuous life, so well according with the spirit of his sex, while she, on the contrary, was satisfied with the monotonous circle of household enjoyments. He told her that he was eager for whatever promised novelty, while she felt most attached to what was familiarized to her by habit: and lastly, that her cold disposition, bordering upon indifference just didn't match well with his ardent temperament. It was therefore more prudent that they should seek apart from each other the happiness which they could not find together. A sigh, and a brief acquiescence in his wishes was all the reply that Swanhilda made; and on the following morning, upon his presenting her with a paper of separation, informing her that she was at liberty to return home to her father, she received it most submissively. Yet before she departed, she gave him the following warning, "Too well do I conjecture to whom I am indebted for our separation. Often have I seen you at Brunhilda's grave, and beheld you there even on that night when the face of the heavens was suddenly enveloped in a veil of clouds. Have you rashly dared to tear aside the awful veil that separates the mortality that dreams, from that which dreams not? Oh! then woe to you, you wretched man, for you have attached to yourself that which will prove your destruction."

43.She ceased speaking and Walter attempted no reply, for the similar admonition uttered by the sorcerer flashed upon his mind, all obscured as it was by passion, just as the lightning glares momentarily through the gloom of night without dispersing the obscurity.

44.Swanhilda then departed to give to her children a bitter farewell, for they, according to national custom, belonged to the father; and, having bathed them in her tears, and consecrated them with the holy water of maternal love, she quitted her husband's residence, and departed to the home of her father's.

45.Thus was the kind and benevolent Swanhilda exiled from those halls where she had presided with grace; from halls which were now newly decorated to receive another mistress. The day at length arrived on which Walter, for the second time, conducted Brunhilda home as a newly made bride. And he caused it to be reported among his domestics that his new consort had gained his affections by her extraordinary likeness to Brunhilda, their former mistress. How ineffably happy did he deem himself as he conducted his beloved once more into the chamber which had often witnessed their former joys, and which was now newly gilded and adorned in a most costly style: among the other decorations were figures of angels scattering roses, which served to support the purple draperies whose ample folds overshadowed the nuptial couch. With what impatience did he await the hour that was to put him in possession of those beauties for which he had already paid so high a price, unknowing that this enjoyment was to cost him most dearly yet! Unfortunate Walter! reveling in bliss, your behold not the abyss that yawns beneath your feet, intoxicated with the luscious perfume of the flower you have plucked, you little deem how deadly is the venom with which it is fraught; although, for a short season, its potent fragrance bestows new energy on all your feelings.

46.Happy, however, as Walter now was, his household was far from being equally so. The strange resemblance between their new lady and the deceased Brunhilda filled them with a secret dismay and an indefinable horror: there was not a single difference of feature, of tone of voice, or of gesture. To add too to these mysterious circumstances, her female attendants discovered a particular mark on her back, exactly like one which Brunhilda had. A report was soon circulated that their lady was no other than Brunhilda herself, who had been recalled to life by the power of necromancy. How truly horrible was the idea of living under the same roof with one who had been an inhabitant of the tomb, and of being obliged to attend upon her, and acknowledge her as mistress! There was also in Brunhilda much to increase this aversion and favor their superstition: no ornaments of gold ever decked her person; all that others were wont to wear of this metal, she had formed of silver: no richly colored and sparkling jewels glittered upon her; pearls alone, lent their pale luster to adorn her bosom. Most carefully did she always avoid the cheerful light of the sun, and was wont to spend the brightest days in the most retired and gloomy apartments: only during the twilight of the commencing or declining day did she ever walk abroad, but her favorite hour was when the phantom light of the moon bestowed on all objects a shadowy appearance and a somber hue; always too at the crowing of the cock an involuntary shudder was observed to seize her limbs. Imperious as before her death, she quickly imposed her iron yoke on every one around her, while she seemed even far more terrible than ever, since a dread of some supernatural power attached to her, appalled all who approached her. A malignant withering glance seemed to shoot from her eye on the unhappy object of her wrath, as if it would annihilate its victim. In short, those halls which, in the time of Swanhilda were the residence of cheerfulness and mirth, now resembled an extensive desert tomb. With fear imprinted on their pale countenances, the domestics glided through the apartments of the castle; and in this abode of terror, the crowing of the cock caused the living to tremble, as if they were the spirits of the departed; for the sound always reminded them of their mysterious mistress. There was no one but who shuddered at meeting her in a lonely place, in the dusk of evening, or by the light of the moon, a circumstance that was deemed to be ominous of some evil: so great was the apprehension of her female attendants, they pined in continual disquietude, and, by degrees, all quit her. In the course of time even others of the domestics fled, for an insupportable horror had seized them.

47.The art of the sorcerer had indeed bestowed upon Brunhilda an artificial life, and due nourishment had continued to support the restored body; yet this body was not able of itself to keep up the genial glow of vitality, and to nourish the flame whence springs all the affections and passions, whether of love or hate; for death had for ever destroyed and withered it. All that Brunhilda now possessed was a chilled existence, colder than that of the snake. It was nevertheless necessary that she should love, and return with equal ardor the warm caresses of her spell-enthralled husband, to whose passion alone she was indebted for her renewed existence. It was necessary that a magic draught should animate the dull current in her veins and awaken her to the glow of life and the flame of love -- a potion of abomination -- one not even to be named without a curse -- human blood, imbibed whilst yet warm, from the veins of youth. This was the hellish drink for which she thirsted: possessing no sympathy with the purer feelings of humanity; deriving no enjoyment from anything that interests in life and occupies its varied hours; her existence was a mere blank, unless when in the arms of her paramour husband, and therefore was it that she craved incessantly after the horrible draught. It was even with the utmost effort that she could forbear sucking even the blood of Walter himself, as he reclined beside her. Whenever she beheld some innocent child whose lovely face denoted the exuberance of infantine health and vigor, she would entice it by soothing words and fond caresses into her most secret apartment, where, lulling it to sleep in her arms, she would suck from its bosom the warm, purple tide of life. Nor were youths of either sex safe from her horrid attack: having first breathed upon her unhappy victim, who never failed immediately to sink into a lengthened sleep, she would then in a similar manner drain his veins of the vital juice. Thus children, youths, and maidens quickly faded away, as flowers gnawed by the cankering worm: the fullness of their limbs disappeared; a sallow line succeeded to the rosy freshness of their cheeks, the liquid luster of the eye was deadened, even as the sparkling stream when arrested by the touch of frost; and their locks became thin and gray, as if already ravaged by the storm of life. Parents beheld with horror this desolating pestilence devouring their offspring; nor could simple or charm, potion or amulet avail aught against it. The grave swallowed up one after the other; or did the miserable victim survive, he became cadaverous and wrinkled even in the very morn of existence. Parents observed with horror this devastating pestilence snatch away their offspring -- a pestilence which, nor herb however potent, nor charm, nor holy taper, nor exorcism could avert. They either beheld their children sink one after the other into the grave, or their youthful forms, withered by the unholy vampire embrace of Brunhilda, assume the decrepitude of sudden age.

48.At length, strange surmises and reports began to prevail; it was whispered that Brunhilda herself was the cause of all these horrors; although no one could pretend to tell in what manner she destroyed her victims, since no marks of violence were discernible. Yet when young children confessed that she had frequently lulled them asleep in her arms, and elder ones said that a sudden slumber had come upon them whenever she began to converse with them, suspicion became converted into certainty, and those whose offspring had hitherto escaped unharmed, quitted their hearths and home -- leaving all their little possessions -- the dwellings of their fathers and the inheritance of their children, in order to rescue from so horrible a fate those who were dearer to their simple affections than anything else the world could give.

49.Thus, every day the castle assumed a more desolate appearance; daily its environs become more deserted; none but a few aged decrepit old women and gray-headed menials were to be seen remaining of the once numerous retinue. Such will in the latter days of the earth be the last generation of mortals, when childbearing shall have ceased, when youth shall no more be seen, nor any arise to replace those who shall await their fate in silence.

50.Walter (being an utter and totally self-involved jerk-- my comment) alone noticed not, or heeded not, the desolation around him; he didn't notice the death, lapped as he was in a glowing Elysium of love. Far more happy than formerly did he now seem in the possession of Brunhilda. All those caprices and frowns which had been able to over-cloud their former union had now entirely disappeared. She even seemed to doat on him with a warmth of passion that she had never exhibited before, not even during the happy season of bridal love; for the flame of that youthful blood, which she drained from the veins of others, rioted in her own. At night, as soon as he closed his eyes, she would breathe on him till he sank into delicious dreams, from which he awoke only to experience more rapturous enjoyments. By day, she would continually discourse with him on the bliss experienced by happy spirits beyond the grave, assuring him that, as his affection had recalled her from the tomb, they were now irrevocably united. Thus fascinated by a continual spell, it was not possible that he should perceive what was taking place around him. Brunhilda, however, foresaw with savage grief that the source of her youthful ardor was daily decreasing, for, in a short time, there remained nothing gifted with youth, save Walter and his children, and these latter she resolved should be her next victims.

51.On her first return to the castle, she had felt an aversion towards the children of Walter's other wife, and therefore abandoned them entirely to the attendants appointed by Swanhilda. Now, however, she began to pay considerable attention to them, and caused them to be frequently admitted into her presence. The aged nurses were filled with dread at perceiving these marks of regard from her towards their young charges, yet dared they not to oppose the will of their terrible and imperious mistress. Brunhilda soon gained the affection of the children, who were too unsuspecting of guile to apprehend any danger from her; on the contrary, her caresses won them completely to her. Instead of ever preventing their mirthful play, she would rather instruct them in new sports: often too did she recite to them tales of such strange and wild interest as to exceed all the stories of their nurses. When they wearied either from play or from listening to her narratives, she would take them on her knees and lull them to slumber. During these slumbers visions of the most surpassing magnificence attended their dreams: they would fancy themselves in some garden where flowers of every color climbed in rows one above the other, sloping upwards towards the golden clouds where little angels whose wings sparkled with azure and gold descended to bring them delicious cakes or splendid jewels; or sung to them soothing melodious hymns. So delightful did these dream in a short time become to the children that they longed for nothing so eagerly as to slumber on Brunhilda's lap, for only there did they enjoy such visions of heavenly forms. They were then very anxious for that which was to prove their destruction. Yet do we not all aspire after that which conducts us to the grave after the enjoyment of life? These innocents stretched out their arms to approaching death because it assumed the mask of pleasure; for when they were lapped in these ecstatic slumbers, Brunhilda sucked the life-stream from their bosoms. On waking, indeed, they felt themselves faint and exhausted, yet no pain nor any mark betrayed the cause. Shortly, however, their strength entirely failed, even as the summer brook is gradually dried up: their sports became less and less noisy; their loud, frolicsome laughter was converted into a faint smile; the full tones of their voices died away into a mere whisper. Their attendants were filled with horror and despair; too well did they conjecture the horrible truth, yet they dared not impart their suspicions to Walter, who was so devotedly attached to his horrible partner. Death had already smote his prey: the children were but the mere shadows of their former selves, and even this shadow quickly disappeared.

52.The anguished father deeply bemoaned their loss, for, notwithstanding his apparent neglect, he was strongly attached to them; nor until he had experienced their loss was he aware that his love was so great. His affliction could not fail to excite the displeasure of Brunhilda. "Why do you lament so fondly for these little ones? What satisfaction could such unformed beings yield to you unless thou were still attached to their mother? Is your heart then still hers? Or do you now regret her and them because you are satiated with my fondness and weary of my endearments? Had these young ones grown up, would they not have attached you, your spirit and your affections more closely to this earth of clay -- to this dust? And have alienated you from that sphere to which I, who have already passed the grave, endeavor to raise you? Is your spirit so heavy, or your love so weak, or your faith so hollow, that the hope of being mine for ever is unable to touch you?" Thus did Brunhilda express her indignation at her husband's grief, and forbade him her presence. The fear of offending her beyond forgiveness and his anxiety to appease her soon dried up his tears; and he again abandoned himself to his fatal passion, until approaching destruction at length awakened him from his delusion.

53.Neither maiden nor youth were seen any longer, either within the dreary walls of the castle or in the adjoining territory -- all had disappeared; for those whom the grave had not swallowed up had fled from the region of death. Who, therefore, now remained to quench the horrible thirst of the female vampire save Walter himself? And his death she dared to contemplate unmoved; for that divine sentiment that unites two beings in one joy and one sorrow was unknown to her bosom. If he was in his tomb, she would be free to search out other victims and to glut herself with destruction, until she herself should, at the last day, be consumed with the earth itself, such is the fatal law to which the dead are subject when awoke by the arts of necromancy from the sleep of the grave.

54.She now began to fix her blood-thirsty lips on Walter's breast, when he was cast into a profound sleep by the odor of her violet breath, and he reclined beside her quite unconscious of his impending fate. Yet soon his vital powers began to decay, and many a gray hair peeped through his raven locks. With his strength, his passion also declined, and he now frequently left her in order to pass the whole day in the sports of the chase, hoping thereby to regain his accustomed vigor. As he was reposing one day in a wood beneath the shade of an oak, he perceived on the top of a tree a bird of strange appearance, one quite unknown to him. But before he could take aim at it with his bow, it flew away into the clouds; at the same time letting fall a rose-colored root which dropped at Walter's feet; he immediately took it up and, although he was well acquainted with almost every plant, he could not remember having seen any at all resembling this. Its delightful scent induced him to try its taste, but ten times more bitter than wormwood, it was even as gall in his mouth; upon which, impatient with the disappointment, he flung it away with violence. Had he, however, been aware of its miraculous quality and that it acted as a counter-charm against the opiate perfume of Brunhilda's breath, he would have blessed it in spite of its bitterness: thus do mortals often blindly cast away in displeasure the unsavory remedy that would otherwise work to their gain.

55.When Walter returned home that evening and laid down to sleep as usual by Brunhilda's side, the magic power of her breath produced no effect upon him; and for the first time during many months he closed his eyes in a natural slumber. Yet hardly had he fallen asleep, before a smarting pain disturbed him from his dreams, and opening his eyes, he discerned, by the gloomy rays of a lamp that glimmered in the apartment what for some moments transfixed him quite aghast, for it was Brunhilda, drawing with her lips, the warm blood from his bosom. The wild cry of horror which at length escaped him, terrified Brunhilda, whose mouth was besmeared with the warm blood. "Monster!" exclaimed he, springing from the couch, "is it thus that you love me?"

57."Creature of blood!" continued Walter, "the delusion which has so long blinded me is at an end: you are the fiend who destroyed my children -- who has murdered the offspring of my vassals." Raising herself upwards and, at the same time, casting on him a glance that froze him to the spot with dread, she replied. "It is not I who have murdered them; I was obliged to pamper myself with warm youthful blood in order that I might satisfy your furious desires -- you art the murderer!" These dreadful words summoned before Walter's terrified conscience the threatening shades of all those who had thus perished; despair choked his voice.

58."Why," continued she, in a tone that increased his horror, "why do you make mouths at me like a puppet? you who had the courage to love the dead -- to take into your bed one who had been sleeping in the grave, the bed-fellow of the worm -- who has clasped in your lustful arms the corruption of the tomb -- do you, unhallowed as you are, now raise this hideous cry for the sacrifice of a few lives? -- They are but leaves swept from their branches by a storm. Come, chase these idiot fancies, and taste the bliss you have purchased so dearly." So saying, she extended her arms towards him, but this motion served only to increase his terror, and exclaiming: "Accursed Being," he rushed out of the apartment.

59.All the horrors of a guilty, upbraiding conscience became his companions, now that he was awakened from the delirium of his unholy pleasures. Frequently he cursed his own obstinate blindness, cursed himself for having given no heed to the hints and admonitions of his children's nurses, but treating them as vile calumnies. But his sorrow was now too late, for, although repentance may gain pardon for the sinner, it cannot alter the immutable decrees of fate -- it cannot recall the murdered from the tomb. No sooner did the first break of dawn appear, than he set out for his lonely castle in the mountains, determined no longer to abide under the same roof with so terrible a being; yet vain was his flight, for, on waking the following morning, he perceived himself in Brunhilda's arms, and quite entangled in her long raven tresses, which seemed to involve him, and bind him in the fetters of his fate; the powerful fascination of her breath held him still more captivated, so that, forgetting all that had passed, he returned her caresses, until awakening as if from a dream he recoiled in unmixed horror from her embrace. During the day he wandered through the solitary wilds of the mountains, as a culprit seeking an asylum from his pursuers; and, at night, retired to the shelter of a cave; fearing less to couch himself within such a dreary place, than to expose himself to the horror of again meeting Brunhilda; but alas! it was in vain that he endeavored to flee her. Again, when he awoke, he found her the partner of his miserable bed. Nay, had he sought the center of the earth as his hiding place; had he even imbedded himself beneath rocks, or formed his chamber in the recesses of the ocean, still would he find her his constant companion; for, by calling her again into existence, he had rendered himself inseparably hers; so fatal were the links that united them.

60.Struggling with the madness that was beginning to seize him, and brooding incessantly on the ghastly visions that presented themselves to his horror-stricken mind, he lay motionless in the gloomiest recesses of the woods, from the rise of sun till the shades of evening. But, no sooner was the light of day extinguished in the west, and the woods buried in impenetrable darkness, than the apprehension of resigning himself to sleep drove him forth among the mountains. The storm played wildly with the fantastic clouds, and with the rattling leaves, as they were caught up into the air, as if some dread spirit was sporting with these images of transitoriness and decay: it roared among the summits of the oaks as if uttering a voice of fury, while its hollow sound rebounding among the distant hills, seemed as the moans of a departing sinner, or as the faint cry of some wretch expiring under the murderer's hand: the owl too, uttered its ghastly cry as if foreboding the wreck of nature. Walter's hair flew disorderly in the wind, like black snakes wreathing around his temples and shoulders; while each sense was awake to catch fresh horror. In the clouds he seemed to behold the forms of the murdered; in the howling wind to hear their laments and groans; in the chilling blast itself he felt the dire kiss of Brunhilda; in the cry of the screeching bird he heard her voice; in the moldering leaves he scented the charnel-bed out of which he had awakened her. "Murderer of thy own offspring," he exclaimed in a voice making night, and the conflict of the element still more hideous, "paramour of a blood-thirsty vampire, reveler with the corruption of the tomb!" while in his despair he rent the wild locks from his head. Just then the full moon darted from beneath the bursting clouds; and the sight recalled to his remembrance the advice of the sorcerer, when he trembled at the first apparition of Brunhilda rising from her sleep of death; -- namely, to seek him at the season of the full moon in the mountains, where three roads met. Scarcely had this gleam of hope broke in on his bewildered mind than he flew to the appointed spot.

61.On his arrival, Walter found the old man seated upon a stone as calmly as though it had been a bright sunny day and completely regardless of the uproar around. "Are you come then?" exclaimed he to the breathless wretch, who, flinging himself at his feet, cried in a tone of anguish, "Oh save me -- succor me -- rescue me from the monster that scatters death and desolation around her.

62."Wherefore a mysterious warning? Why did you not rather disclose to me at once all the horrors that awaited my sacrilegious profanation of the grave?"

63."And wherefore a mysterious warning? Why did you not perceive how wholesome was the advice -- 'Wake not the dead.'"

64."Were you able to listen to any other voice than that of your impetuous passions? Did not your eager impatience shut my mouth at the very moment I would have cautioned you?"

65."True, true: your reproof is just. But what does it avail now; I need the promptest aid."

66."Well," replied the old man, "there remains even yet a means of rescuing yourself, but it is fraught with horror and demands all your resolution."

67."Utter it then, utter it; for what can be more appalling, more hideous than the misery I now endure?"

68."Know then," continued the sorcerer, "that only on the night of the new moon does she sleep the sleep of mortals; and then all the supernaturural power which she inherits from the grave totally fails her. 'Tis then that thou must murder her."

70."Aye," returned the old man calmly, "pierce her bosom with a sharpened dagger, which I will furnish you with; at the same time renounce her memory for ever, swearing never to think of her intentionally, and that, if you do involuntarily think of her, you wilt repeat the curse."

71."Most horrible! yet what can be more horrible than she herself is? I'll do it."

73."What, must I wait until then?" cried Walter, "alas before then. either her savage thirst for blood will have forced me into the night of the tomb, or horror will have driven me into the night of madness."

"74.Nay," replied the sorcerer, "that I can prevent;" and, so saying, he conducted him to a cavern further among the mountains. "Abide here twice seven days," said he; "so long can I protect thee against her deadly caresses. Here you will find all due provision for your wants; but take heed that nothing tempt you to leave this place. Farewell, when the moon renews itself, then do I come here again." So saying, the sorcerer drew a magic circle around the cave, and then immediately disappeared.

75.Twice seven days did Walter continue in this solitude, where his companions were his own terrifying thoughts and his bitter repentance. The present was all desolation and dread; the future presented the image of a horrible deed which he must perforce commit; while the past was poisoned by the memory of his guilt. Did he think on his former happy union with Brunhilda, her horrible image presented itself to his imagination with her lips defiled with dropping blood: or, did he call to mind the peaceful days he had passed with Swanhilda, he beheld her sorrowful spirit with the shadows of her murdered children. Such were the horrors that attended him by day: those of night were still more dreadful, for then he beheld Brunhilda herself, who, wandering round the magic circle which she could not pass, called upon his name till the cavern reechoed the horrible sound. "WaIter, my beloved," cried she, "why do you avoid me? Are yout not mine? forever mine -- mine here, and mine hereafter? And do you seek to murder me? -- ah! commit not a deed which hurls us both to perdition -- yourself as well as me." In this manner did the horrible visitant torment him each night, and, even when she departed, robbed him of all repose.

76.The night of the new moon at length arrived, dark as the deed it was doomed to bring forth. The sorcerer entered the cavern; "Come," he told Walter, "let us depart hence, the hour is now arrived:" and he forthwith conducted him in silence from the cave to a coal-black steed, the sight of which recalled to Walter's remembrance the fatal night. He then related to the old man Brunhilda's nocturnal visits and anxiously inquired whether her apprehensions of eternal perdition would be fulfilled or not. "Mortal eye," exclaimed the sorcerer, "may not pierce the dark secrets of another world, or penetrate the deep abyss that separates earth from heaven." Walter hesitated to mount the steed. "Be resolute," exclaimed his companion, "but this once is it granted to you to make the trial, and, should you fail now, nothing can rescue you from her power."

77."What can be more horrible than she herself? I am determined," and he leaped on the horse, the sorcerer mounting also behind him.

78.Carried with a rapidity equal to that of the storm that sweeps across the plain, in brief space of time they arrived at Walter's castle. All the doors flew open at the bidding of his companion, and they speedily reached Brunhilda's chamber, and stood beside her couch. Reclining in a tranquil slumber, she reposed in all her native loveliness, every trace of horror had disappeared from her countenance; she looked so pure, meek and innocent that all the sweet hours of their endearments rushed to Walter's memory, like interceding angels pleading in her behalf. His unnerved hand could not take the dagger which the sorcerer presented to him. "The blow must be struck even now:" said the latter, "should you delay but an hour, she will lie at daybreak on thy bosom, sucking the warm life drops from thy heart."

79."Horrible! most horrible!" faltered the trembling Walter, and turning away his face, he thrust the dagger into her bosom, exclaiming, "I curse thee for ever! And the cold blood gushed upon his hand. Opening her eyes once more, she cast a look of ghastly horror on her husband, and, in a hollow dying accent said, "Thou too art doomed to perdition."

80."Lay now your hand upon her corpse," said the sorcerer, "and swear the oath." Walter did as commanded, saying, "Never will I think of her with love, never recall her to mind intentionally, and, should her image recur to my mind involuntarily, so will I exclaim to it: be you accursed."

81."You have now done everything," returned the sorcerer; "restore her therefore to the earth from which you so foolishly recalled her; and be sure to recollect your oath: for, should you forget it but once, she would return, and you would be inevitably lost. Adieu -- we see each other no more." Having uttered these words he quitted the apartment, and Walter also fled from this abode of horror, having first given direction that the corpse should be speedily interred.

82.The terrific Brunhilda again reposed within her grave; but her image continually haunted Walter's imagination, so that his existence was one continued martyrdom in which he continually struggled to dismiss the hideous phantoms from his memory, yet the stronger his effort to banish them, the more frequently and vividly did they return. His imagination seemed incapable of admitting any other image than that of Brunhilda: now he fancied he beheld her expiring, the blood streaming from her beautiful bosom: at others he saw the lovely bride of his youth, who reproached him with having disturbed the slumbers of the tomb; and to both he was compelled to utter the dreadful words, "I curse thee forever." The terrible imprecation was constantly passing his lips; yet he was in incessant terror lest he should forget to say it, or dream of her without being able to repeat it, and then, on awaking, find himself in her arms. Or he would recall her dying words, and appalled at their terrible meaning, imagine that the doom of his perdition was irrecoverably passed. Whence should he fly from himself? Or how erase from his brain these images and forms of horror? In the din of combat, in the tumult of war and its incessant movement of victory to defeat, from the cry of anguish to the exultation of victory -- in these he hoped to find at least the relief of distraction; here, too, he was disappointed. The giant fang of apprehension now seized him who had never before known fear; each drop of blood that sprayed upon him seemed the cold blood that had gushed from Brunhilda's wound; each dying wretch that fell beside him looked like her, when expiring, she exclaimed, "You too art doomed to perdition," so that the aspect of death seemed more full of dread to him than anything else, and this unconquerable terror compelled him to abandon the battle-field. At length, after many a weary and fruitless wandering, he returned to his castle. Here all was deserted and silent, as if the sword, or a still more deadly pestilence had laid everything waste. For the few inhabitants that still remained, and even those servants who had once shown themselves the most attached to the castle, now fled from him as though he had been branded with the mark of Cain. With horror he perceived that, by uniting himself as he had done with the dead, he had cut himself off from the living; they now refused to hold any intercourse with him. Often, when he stood on the battlements of his castle, and looked down upon desolate fields, he compared their present solitude with the lively activity they were wont to exhibit under the strict but benevolent discipline of Swanhilda. He now felt that she alone could reconcile him to life, but dared he hope that one whom he so deeply aggrieved could pardon him and receive him again? Impatience at length got the better of fear; he sought Swanhilda. With the deepest contrition he acknowledged his complicated guilt; embracing her knees as he beseeched her to pardon him and to return to his desolate castle in order that it might again become the abode of contentment and peace. The pale form which she beheld at her feet, the shadow of the lately blooming youth, touched Swanhilda. "The folly," she said gently, "though it has caused me much sorrow, has never excited my resentment or my anger. But say, where are my children?" To this dreadful interrogation the agonized father could for a while frame no reply: at length he was obliged to confess the dreadful truth. "Then we are sundered for ever," returned Swanhilda; nor could all his tears or supplications prevail upon her to revoke the sentence she had given.

83Stripped of his last earthly hope, bereft of his last consolation, and thereby rendered as poor as mortal can possibly be on this side of the grave, Walter returned homewards. As he was riding through the forest in the neighborhood of his castle, absorbed in his gloomy meditations, the sudden sound of a horn roused him from his reverie. Shortly after hearing the horn, he saw a female figure clad in black, and mounted on a steed of the same color. Her attire was like that of a huntress, but instead of a falcon, she bore a raven in her hand, and she was attended by a gay troop of cavaliers and dames. After the exchange of the first salutations, he found that she was following the same road as himself; and, when she found that Walter's castle was close at hand, she requested that he would lodge her for that night, the evening being far advanced. Most willingly did he comply with this request, since the appearance of the beautiful stranger had struck him greatly, so wonderfully did she resemble Swanhilda, except that her hair was brown, and her eye dark and full of fire. He entertained his guests with a sumptuous banquet, and their mirth and songs enlivened the lately silent halls. Three days did this revelry continue, and so exhilarating did it prove to Walter that he seemed to have forgotten his sorrows and his fears; nor could he prevail upon himself to dismiss his visitors, dreading lest, on their departure, the castle would seem a hundred times more desolate than before hand his grief be proportionally increased. At his earnest request, the stranger consented to stay seven, and again another seven days. Without being requested, she took upon herself the superintendence of the household, which she regulated as discreetly and cheerfully as Swanhilda had been wont to do, so that the castle, which had so lately been the abode of melancholy and horror, became the residence of pleasure and festivity, and Walter's grief disappeared altogether in the midst of so much gaiety. Daily his attachment to the fair unknown increased; he even made her his confidant; and, one evening as they were walking together apart from any of her companions, he related to her his melancholy and frightful history. "My dear friend," returned she, as soon as he had finished his tale, "It ill becomes a man of your discretion to afflict yourself on account of all this.

84.You have awakened the dead from the sleep of the grave and afterwards found what might have been anticipated, that the dead possess no sympathy with life. What then? You will not commit this error a second time.

85.You have; however, murdered the being whom you had thus recalled again to existence -- but it was only in appearance, for you could not deprive that thing of life which properly had no life. You have, too, lost a wife and two children, but at your age such a loss is most easily repaired. There are beauties who will gladly share your couch and make you again a father. But you dread the reckoning of hereafter: go, open the graves and ask the sleepers there whether that hereafter disturbs them." In such manner would she frequently exhort and cheer him, so that in a short time his melancholy entirely disappeared. He now ventured to declare to the unknown the passion with which she had inspired him, nor did she refuse him her hand. Within seven days afterwards the nuptials were celebrated, and the very foundations of the castle seemed to rock from the wild tumultuous uproar of unrestrained riot. The wine streamed in abundance; the goblets circled incessantly; intemperance reached its utmost bounds while shouts of laughter almost resembling madness burst from the numerous companions belonging to the unknown. At length Walter, heated with wine and love, conducted his bride into the nuptial chamber; but, oh! horror! scarcely had he clasped her in his arms before she transformed herself into a monstrous serpent, which entwining him in its horrid folds, crushed him to death. Flames crackled on every side of the apartment; in a few minutes after, the whole castle was enveloped in a blaze that consumed it entirely: while, as the walls fell in with a tremendous crash, a voice exclaimed aloud -- "Wake not the dead!"

SBI!

Johann Ludwig Tieck's Vampire Story: "Wake Not the Dead" With Modernized Language.