mself with all his might, said as
softly and civily as possible: "I do not want a barometer, my good
friend; pray, go." Upon this, Coppola advanced a good way into the
room, and said in a hoarse voice, while his wide mouth distorted itself
into a hideous laugh, and his little eyes under their long gray lashes
sparkled forth piercingly: "Eh, eh--no barometer--no barometer? I have
besides pretty eyes--pretty eyes!"--"Madman!" cried Nathaniel with
horror, "how can you have eyes?--Eyes?" But Coppola had already put
his barometer aside, and plunged his hand into his wide coat-pocket,
whence he drew lunettes and spectacles, which he placed upon the table
"There--there--spectacles on the nose, those are my eyes--pretty eyes!"
And so saying he drew out more and more spectacles so, that the whole
table began to glisten and sparkle in the most extraordinary manner. A
thousand eyes glanced, and quivered convulsively, and stared at
Nathaniel; yet he could not look away from the table, and Coppola kept
still laying down more and more spectacles, while flaming glances were
intermingled more and more wildly, and shot their blood-red rays into
Nathaniel's breast. Overcome with horror, he shrieked out: "Hold,
hold, frightful man!" He seized fast by the arm Coppola, who was
searching his pockets to bring out still more spectacles, although the
whole table was already covered. Coppola had greatly extricated
himself with a hoarse repulsive laugh, and with the words: "Ah, nothing
for you--but here are pretty glasses;" he had collected all the
spectacles, put them up, and from the breast-pocket of his coat had
drawn forth a number of telescopes large and small. As soon as the
spectacles were removed Nathaniel felt quite easy, and thinking of
Clara, perceived that the hideous phantom was but the creature of his
own mind, and that Coppola was an honest optician, and could by no
means be the accursed double of Coppelius. Moreover, in all the
glasses which Coppola now placed on the table, there was nothing
remarkable, or at least nothing so ghost-like as the spectacles, and to
make matters right Nathaniel resolved to buy something of Coppola. He
took up a little and very neatly worked pocket-telescope, and looked
through the window to try it. Never in his life had he met a glass
which brought the objects so sharply, plainly, and clearly before his
eyes. Involuntarily he looked into Spalanzani's room; Olympia was
sitting as usual befor