The Romance of the Canoness by Paul Heyse — Read

I must preface the following record with the entreaty that it may not be regarded as puerile vanity if I begin with my insignificant self and allow my own personality to appear in the course of my story more frequently than it may deserve. The nature of the case requires it. My own valueless destiny is as inseparably connected with the life of the principal personage as the insignificant thread is a part of the pearl necklace whose costly gems are strung upon it. Unfortunately, there are some parts where the jewels are missing, and then only the gray thread appears. But I will try to make these spaces as short as possible; for I am only too well aware that my own existence has merely gained what little worth it possesses because Providence brought me into the vicinity of so rare a creature, and permitted me to move around her and receive light and warmth, as a planet from the sun.

True, I certainly did not begin life with so modest an estimate of myself. Nay, I imagined that I was well fitted to let my light shine as the center of a little planetary system of my own. At a very early age I was praised in my family and notorious among my school-fellows as a pattern boy, and the blows I received from the latter -- and had richly deserved by my ridiculous boasting -- only helped to increase my arrogance. All exalted minds, I said to myself, have been obliged to atone for their superiority by calamity and persecution. Nay, I even went so far as to compare myself with the Son of man, and should not have been surprised had some Herod yearned for the life of the child who felt himself destined to redeem the poor, sinful world, and meanwhile showed his teachers in the town-school contemptible cajolery and faultlessly written exercises.