And meanwhile not a soul is surprised, although one purposely made the joke as crude and the trick as thick as at all possible.6 Man, your name is jackass! One can lead you by the nose wherever one likes.7

Over there, for instance, sticking out of my vest pocket, is the neck of a small bottle. It’s medicine, Prussic acid, that I’m keeping as a curiosity, not having the courage to use it. Why, then, do I carry it around with me, and why did I provide myself with it? Humbug again, nothing but humbug, the modern humbug of decadence, quest for publicity, and snobbery. Pfui—. As pure and fine as porcelain, she is my proper medicine—.

Or take an innocent thing such as my lifesaving medal. I earned it honestly, as they say; one dabbles in all sorts of things, one saves people’s lives. But whether I really deserve any credit for it, God only knows. Judge for yourselves, gentlemen and ladies: A young man stands at the ship’s rail, he’s crying, his shoulders are shaking; when I speak to him he gives me a distracted look and scurries down to the saloon. I pursue him—the man has already turned in. I examine the passenger list, find the man’s name and note that he’s going to Hamburg. That’s the first evening. From now on I keep a constant eye on him, taking him by surprise in unexpected places and looking him squarely in the face. Why am I doing it? Gentlemen and ladies, judge for yourselves! I see him cry, he’s horribly tormented by something and repeatedly gazes into the deep with a rapt, distraught expression in his face. What concern is it of mine? None, to be sure, and so judge for yourselves, go right ahead! A couple of days go by, there is a head wind and a high sea. At two o’clock in the night he comes aft, where I’m already hiding out and observing him; the moon gives his face a yellowish cast. What then? He turns here and there, flings up his arms and jumps overboard, feet first. But he is unable to hold back a scream. Did he regret his decision? Did he panic at the last moment? If not, why did he scream? Gentlemen and ladies, what would you have done in my place? I leave it entirely in your hands. Maybe you would have respected the honest, though faltering courage of the poor unfortunate and kept quiet in your hiding place; I, on the other hand, yell to the captain on the bridge and jump overboard in turn, and in my haste I even go head first. I splash about like crazy, floundering in every direction, all the while hearing shouts from thunderous voices on board. Suddenly I bump against his arm, outstretched and stiff, with splayed fingers. He kicks a bit with his legs, good! I grab him by the neck, but he gets heavier and heavier, turning lazy and no longer kicking; finally he even gives a tug, to get free. I wheel about with him—the heavy sea knocks our foreheads together and I black out. What should I do? I grind my teeth and curse like blazes, holding the fellow firmly and stubbornly by the scruff of his neck, until the boat finally gets to us. What would you have done? Behaving like a ruthless, brutal bully, I saved him, so what? Well, haven’t I already left it to you, gentlemen and ladies, to judge? You mustn’t spare anybody, it’s all one to me. But what if, say, it was very important to the man to avoid ending up in Hamburg? There’s the rub! Maybe he was supposed to meet someone he didn’t want to meet. Yet the medal was given for a meritorious deed and I carry it in my pocket—I don’t cast it before swine, no way! This, too, is for you to judge—go ahead and judge, what the hell do I care? I care so little about it that I don’t even remember the unfortunate man’s name, though he must still be alive. Why did he do it? Maybe because of a hopeless love, maybe there really was a woman involved, I don’t know; anyway, it’s nothing to me. Enough!

Oh, women, those women! Take Kamma, for instance, my little Danish Kamma. Lord help me! Gentle as a dove, sick as can be with tenderness and full of devotion to boot, but still capable of wheedling the last penny out of you, squeezing you to the point of destitution, just by leaning her wily little head sideways and whispering, “Simonsen, my sweet little Simonsen!” Well, God be with you, Kamma, you were full of devotion, so go to blazes, we’re quits—.

And now I’ll get up.

No, one has to watch out for that sort of thing.