d worthy by posterity to stand as the
most famous son of a faithful Prussian family of soldiers.

MICHAEL KOHLHAAS (1808)

A Tale from an Old Chronicle

TRANSLATED BY FRANCES A. KING

Toward the middle of the sixteenth century there lived on the banks of
the river Havel a horse-dealer by the name of Michael Kohlhaas, the
son of a school-master, one of the most upright and, at the same time,
one of the most terrible men of his day. Up to his thirtieth year this
extraordinary man would have been considered the model of a good
citizen. In a village which still bears his name, he owned a farmstead
on which he quietly supported himself by plying his trade. The
children with whom his wife presented him were brought up in the fear
of God, and taught to be industrious and honest; nor was there one
among his neighbors who had not enjoyed the benefit of his kindness or
his justice. In short, the world would have had every reason to bless
his memory if he had not carried to excess one virtue--his sense of
justice, which made of him a robber and a murderer.

He rode abroad once with a string of young horses, all well fed and
glossy-coated, and was turning over in his mind how he would employ
the profit that he hoped to make from them at the fairs; part of it,
as is the way with good managers, he would use to gain future profits,
but he would also spend part of it in the enjoyment of the present.
While thus engaged he reached the Elbe, and near a stately castle,
situated on Saxon territory, he came upon a toll-bar which he had
never found on this road before. Just in the midst of a heavy shower
he halted with his horses and called to the toll-gate keeper, who
soon after showed his surly face at the window. The horse-dealer told
him to open the gate. "What new arrangement is this?" he asked, when
the toll-gatherer, after some time, finally came out of the house.

"Seignorial privilege" answered the latter, unlocking the gate,
"conferred by the sovereign upon Squire Wenzel Tronka."

"Is that so?" queried Kohlhaas; "the Squire's name is now Wenzel?" and
gazed at the castle, the glittering battlements of which looked out
over the field. "Is the old gentleman dead?"

"Died of apoplexy," answered the gate keeper, as he raised the
toll-bar.

"Hum! Too bad!" rejoined Kohlhaas. "An estimable old gentleman he was,
who liked to watch people come and go, and helped along trade and
traffic wherever he could. He once had a caus