The pug comes to life
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Mit Gefälligkeit hatte indeß die schöne Lilie den wunderbaren Mops betrachtet. Sie beugte sich, berührte ihn und in dem Augenblick sprang er auf. Munter sah er sich um, lief hin und wieder und eilte zuletzt seine Wohlthäterin auf das freundlichste zu begrüßen. Sie nahm ihn auf die Arme und drückte ihn an sich. So kalt du bist, rief sie aus, und obgleich nur ein halbes Leben in dir wirkt, bist du mir doch willkommen; zärtlich will ich dich lieben, artig mit dir scherzen, freundlich dich streicheln, und fest dich an mein Herz drücken. Sie ließ ihn darauf los, jagte ihn von sich, rief ihn wieder, scherzte so artig mit ihm und trieb sich so munter und unschuldig mit ihm auf dem Grase herum, daß man mit neuem Entzücken ihre Freude betrachten und Theil daran nehmen mußte, so wie kurz vorher ihre Trauer jedes Herz zum Mitleid gestimmt hatte.
Meanwhile the beautiful Lily had been regarding the wondrous pug with kindness. She bent down and touched him, and in that instant he sprang up. Briskly he looked around, ran to and fro, and at last hurried to greet his benefactress in the friendliest way. She took him into her arms and pressed him to herself. Cold as you are, she cried out, and although only a half life is at work in you, you are still welcome to me; tenderly will I love you, prettily jest with you, kindly stroke you, and press you firmly to my heart. Then she let him go, chased him from her, called him back, jested so prettily with him and romped about so merrily and innocently with him on the grass that one had to watch her joy with fresh delight and take part in it, just as shortly before her sorrow had tuned every heart to pity.
Lily touches the onyx pug and it wakes; she plays with it, glad of a creature her touch cannot kill.
<p>Here the tale's cruel rule is turned inside out. Lily's touch kills whatever lives, so the only creature she can hold is one that was never alive: an onyx pug, which her touch wakes into what she herself calls ein halbes Leben, a half life. Her speech to it is almost a vow, four verbs of affection in a row, lieben, scherzen, streicheln, drücken, love, jest, stroke, press, and every one of them lands on something cold.</p><p>That is the undercurrent: her first free embrace in the story is with a stone dog, and she says so to its face, so kalt du bist. Goethe lets her play anyway, and the narrator admits the watcher is swept along, just as a moment ago the same watcher was moved to pity. The verb gestimmt, tuned, gives the game away; joy and grief are played on the same instrument.</p>
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