el
felt his heart beat with trepidation; but, recollecting what Spalanzani
had told him about his fellow-countryman Coppola, and what he had
himself so faithfully promised his beloved in respect to the Sand-man
Coppelius, he was ashamed at himself for this childish fear of
spectres. Accordingly, he controlled himself with an effort, and said,
as quietly and as calmly as he possibly could, "I don't want to buy any
weather-glasses, my good friend; you had better go elsewhere." Then
Coppola came right into the room, and said in a hoarse voice, screwing
up his wide mouth into a hideous smile, whilst his little eyes flashed
keenly from beneath his long grey eyelashes, "What! Nee weather-gless?
Nee weather-gless? 've got foine oyes as well--foine oyes!" Affrighted,
Nathanael cried, "You stupid man, how can you have eyes?--eyes--eyes?"
But Coppola, laying aside his weather-glasses, thrust his hands into
his big coat-pockets and brought out several spy-glasses and
spectacles, and put them on the table. "Theer! Theer! Spect'cles!
Spect'cles to put 'n nose! Them's my oyes--foine oyes." And he
continued to produce more and more spectacles from his pockets until
the table began to gleam and flash all over. Thousands of eyes were
looking and blinking convulsively, and staring up at Nathanael; he
could not avert his gaze from the table. Coppola went on heaping up his
spectacles, whilst wilder and ever wilder burning flashes crossed
through and through each other and darted their blood-red rays into
Nathanael's breast. Quite overcome, and frantic with terror, he
shouted, "Stop! stop! you terrible man!" and he seized Coppola by the
arm, which he had again thrust into his pocket in order to bring out
still more spectacles, although the whole table was covered all over
with them. With a harsh disagreeable laugh Coppola gently freed
himself; and with the words "So! went none! Well, here foine gless!"
he swept all his spectacles together, and put them back into his
coat-pockets, whilst from a breast-pocket he produced a great number of
larger and smaller perspectives. As soon as the spectacles were gone
Nathanael recovered his equanimity again; and, bending his thoughts
upon Clara, he clearly discerned that the gruesome incubus had
proceeded only from himself, as also that Coppola was a right honest
mechanician and optician, and far from being Coppelius's dreaded double
and ghost And then, besides, none of the glasses which Coppola now
pla