Chapter 17

XVII

It is a year and eight months since I last looked at these notes
of mine. I do so now only because, being overwhelmed with
depression, I wish to distract my mind by reading them through
at random. I left them off at the point where I was just going
to Homburg. My God, with what a light heart (comparatively
speaking) did I write the concluding lines!--though it may be
not so much with a light heart, as with a measure of
self-confidence and unquenchable hope. At that time had I any
doubts of myself ? Yet behold me now. Scarcely a year and a half
have passed, yet I am in a worse position than the meanest
beggar. But what is a beggar? A fig for beggary! I have ruined
myself --that is all. Nor is there anything with which I can
compare myself; there is no moral which it would be of any use
for you to read to me. At the present moment nothing could well
be more incongruous than a moral. Oh, you self-satisfied persons
who, in your unctuous pride, are forever ready to mouth your
maxims--if only you knew how fully I myself comprehend the
sordidness of my present state, you would not trouble to wag
your tongues at me! What could you say to me that I do not
already know? Well, wherein lies my difficulty? It lies in the
fact that by a single turn of a roulette wheel everything for
me, has become changed. Yet, had things befallen otherwise,
these moralists would have been among the first (yes, I feel
persuaded of it) to approach me with friendly jests and
congratulations. Yes, they would never have turned from me as
they are doing now! A fig for all of them! What am I? I am
zero--nothing. What shall I be tomorrow? I may be risen from the
dead, and have begun life anew. For still, I may discover the man
in myself, if only my manhood has not become utterly shattered.

I went, I say, to Homburg, but afterwards went also to
Roulettenberg, as well as to Spa and Baden; in which latter
place, for a time, I acted as valet to a certain rascal of a
Privy Councillor, by name Heintze, who until lately was also my
master here. Yes, for five months I lived my life with lacqueys!
That was just after I had come out of Roulettenberg prison,
where I had lain for a small debt which I owed. Out of that
prison I was bailed by--by whom? By Mr. Astley? By Polina? I do
not know. At all events, the debt was paid to the tune of two
hundred thalers, and I sallied forth a free man. But what was I
to do with myself ? In my dilemma I had recourse to this
Heintze, who was a young scapegrace, and the sort of man who
could speak and write three languages. At first I acted as his
secretary, at a salary of thirty gulden a month, but afterwards
I became his lacquey, for the reason that he could not afford to
keep a