So I betook me by the nearest way to Rome, where I fared right well, for both from great and small I got me much alms; and tarrying there nigh six weeks, I took my way with other pilgrims, of whom some Germans, and especially certain Switzers, to Loretto: from whence I came over the Saint Gotthard Pass back through Switzerland to my dad, which had kept my farm for me; and nothing remarkable did I bring home save a beard which I had grown in foreign parts.
Now had I been absent three years and some months, during which time I had fared over the most distant seas and seen all manner of peoples, but had commonly received from them more evil than good; of which a whole book might be writ. And in the meanwhile the Westphalian treaty had been concluded, so that I could now live with my dad in peace and quiet: and him I left to manage and to keep house, but for myself I sat down to my books, which were now both my work and my delight.
XXIII
Is Very Short and Concerneth Simplicissimus Alone
Once did I read how the oracle of Apollo gave as answer to the Roman deputies, when they asked what they must do to rule their subjects in peace, this only, “Nosce teipsum,” which signifieth, “Let each man know himself.” This caused me to reflect upon the past and demand of myself an account of the life I had led, for I had naught else to do. So said I to myself: “Thy life hath been no life but a death, thy days a toilsome shadow, thy years a troublous dream, thy pleasures grievous sins, thy youth a fantasy, and thy happiness an alchemist’s treasure that is gone by the chimney and vanished ere thou canst perceive it. Through many dangers thou hast followed the wars, and in the same encountered much good and ill luck: hast been now high, now low: now great, now small: now rich, now poor: now merry, now sorry: now loved, now hated: now honoured, now despised: but now, poor soul, what hast thou gained from thy long pilgrimage? This hast thou gained: I am poor in goods, my heart is burdened with cares, for all good purposes I am idle, lazy, and spoilt; and, worst of all, my conscience is heavy and vexed: but thou, my soul, art overwhelmed with sin and grievously defiled; the body is weary, the understanding bemused; thine innocence is gone, the best years of youth are past, the precious time lost: naught is there that gives me pleasure, and withal I am an enemy to myself. But when I came, after my sainted father’s death, into the great world, then was I simple-minded and pure, upright and honest, truthful, humble, modest, temperate, chaste, shamefaced, pious and religious, but soon became malicious, false, treacherous, proud, restless, and above all altogether godless, all which vices I did learn without a teacher. Mine honour have I guarded not for its own sake, but for mine own exaltation. I took note of time not to employ it well for mine own soul’s welfare, but for the profit of my body. My life have I often put in jeopardy, and yet I have never busied myself to
