An die Türen will ich schleichen, D 478/3

I shall creep from door to door

(Poet's title: An die Türen will ich schleichen)

Set by Schubert:

  • D 478/3

    [September 1816]

Text by:

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Text written 1794.  First published 1795.

Part of  Goethe: Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre

An die Türen will ich schleichen

An die Türen will ich schleichen,
Still und sittsam will ich stehn,
Fromme Hand wird Nahrung reichen,
Und ich werde weiter gehn.
Jeder wird sich glücklich scheinen,
Wenn mein Bild vor ihm erscheint,
Eine Träne wird er weinen,
Und ich weiß nicht was er weint.

I shall creep from door to door

I shall creep from door to door,
I shall stand there quietly and inoffensively;
Pious hands will reach out and provide nourishment;
And I shall go on my way again.
Each person will think himself lucky
When my image appears before him;
He will shed a tear,
And I do not know why he is crying.

Themes and images in this text:

Begging and pleadingDoors and gatesHandsPictures and paintingsTears and crying



Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre presents the hero’s emotional and spiritual growth in a number of ways, but one of the most frequent devices that Goethe relies on is the use of short lyrical poems that allow Wilhelm to join the attentive and sympathetic reader in attempting to make sense of the experience and inner life of people from a totally different background. In the case of ‘An die Türen will ich schleichen’ Wilhelm Meister has become aware that the old harp-player (or ‘minstrel’) is suffering from some sort of mental illness. In the course of a particularly dramatic incident, Wilhelm’s son is almost killed by the harpist and the troupe of actors (preparing a performance of Hamlet) have to escape from their lodgings as a fire takes hold. Wilhelm as their director is naturally keen to ensure that everyone has escaped.

Was ihm aber noch schwerer auf dem Herzen lag, war das Schicksal des Harfenspielers, den man nicht wiedergesehen hatte. Wilhelm fürchtete, man würde ihn beim Aufräumen tot unter dem Schutte finden. Wilhelm hatte gegen jedermann den Verdacht verborgen, den er hegte, daß der Alte schuld an dem Brande sei. Denn er kam ihm zuerst von dem brennenden und rauchenden Boden entgegen, und die Verzweiflung im Gartengewölbe schien die Folge eines solchen unglücklichen Ereignisses zu sein. Doch war es bei der Untersuchung, welche die Polizei sogleich anstellte, wahrscheinlich geworden, daß nicht in dem Hause, wo sie wohnten, sondern in dem dritten davon der Brand entstanden sei, der sich auch sogleich unter den Dächern weggeschlichen hatte.
Wilhelm überlegte das alles in einer Laube sitzend, als er in einem nahen Gange jemanden schleichen hörte. An dem traurigen Gesange, der sogleich angestimmt ward, erkannte er den Harfenspieler. Das Lied, das er sehr wohl verstehen konnte, enthielt den Trost eines Unglücklichen, der sich dem Wahnsinne ganz nahe fühlt. Leider hat Wilhelm davon nur die letzte Strophe behalten.

An die Türen will ich schleichen, 
Still und sittsam will ich stehn,
Fromme Hand wird Nahrung reichen,
Und ich werde weiter gehn. 
Jeder wird sich glücklich scheinen, 
Wenn mein Bild vor ihm erscheint,
Eine Träne wird er weinen, 
Und ich weiß nicht was er weint.

Unter diesen Worten war er an die Gartentüre gekommen, die nach einer entlegenen Straße ging; er wollte, da er sie verschlossen fand, an den Spalieren übersteigen; allein Wilhelm hielt ihn zurück und redete ihn freundlich an. Der Alte bat ihn, aufzuschließen, weil er fliehen wolle und müsse. Wilhelm stellte ihm vor, daß er wohl aus dem Garten, aber nicht aus der Stadt könne, und zeigte ihm, wie sehr er sich durch einen solchen Schritt verdächtig mache; allein verghebens! Der Alte bestand auf seinem Sinne. Wilhelm gab nicht nach und drängte ihn endlich halb mit Gewalt ins Gartenhaus, schloß sich daselbst mit ihm ein und führte ein wunderbares Gespräch mit ihm, das wir aber, um unsere Leser nicht mit unzusammenhängenden Ideen und bänglichen Empfindungen zu quälen, lieber verschweigen als ausführlich mitteilen.

But what lay even more heavily on his [Wilhelm's] heart was the fate of the harp-player, who had not been seen again. Wilhelm was afraid that he would be found dead under the debris when things were cleared away. Wilhelm had not shared with anyone the suspicion he had been harbouring that it must have been the old man who was responsible for starting the fire. For he had been the first to appear out of the burning and smoking attic and his desperation in the summer house must have been the consequence of such an act having taken place. Yet in the course of the investigations which the police immediately undertook it became apparent that the fire had not started in the house where they were lodging but in a house three doors further on, and the fire must have spread under the adjoining roofs.

Wilhelm was sitting in the shade of a tree thinking over all of this when he heard someone creeping along on a nearby path. He recognised the harp-player from the sad singing which started up at the same time. The song, which he was able to understand very well, involved words of comfort for an unfortunate person who was conscious that he was on the verge of madness. Unfortunately, Wilhelm was only able to remember the final verse:

I shall creep from door to door,
I shall stand there quietly and inoffensively;
Pious hands will reach out and provide nourishment;
And I shall go on my way again.
Each person will think himself lucky
When my image appears before him;
He will shed a tear,
And I do not know why he is crying.

While singing these words he had reached the garden gate, which led into a remote street; when he found that it was locked he tried to climb over the railings, but Wilhelm held him back and talked to him in a friendly way. The old man asked him to open the gate since he both wanted to and had to get away. Wilhelm explained to him that even if he got out of the garden he could not leave the town and he pointed out how suspicious it would look if he took such a step. All in vain! The old man was insistent. Wilhelm refused to give in and in the end he used some force to take the old man into the summer house. He locked himself in with the harp-player and engaged him in an extraordinary conversation, which we would rather not report than share openly so as not to disturb our readers with incoherent ideas or distressing emotions.
Castle Howard
Photo: Malcolm Wren

When we read the lyric in the context of the narrative it becomes apparent that two of the words in the first line echo the context of the speaker’s attempted escape: An die Türen will ich schleichen. The harper was creeping or stealing (schleichen) along the garden path on his way to a garden gate or doorway (Gartentüre). His furtive behaviour seems to give the impression that he is conscious of some sort of guilt and that he is trying to escape. Yet this is belied by the overall tone of the song. The speaker here claims that he is planning to stand at people’s doors ‘quietly and inoffensively’. He will give the impression of being a genuine pilgrim or innocent, itinerant beggar, even though his progress from house to house is going to be stealthy.

Is it this tension between agonising inner guilt and giving an impression of total sincerity and innocence that the narrator is referring to when he says that the song offered comfort ‘for an unfortunate person who was conscious that he was on the verge of madness’? Pious householders will do their duty and offer sustenance to the poor beggar, whose appearance before them will induce contradictory emotions. They will feel that his visit is a blessing (he must emit some sort of holy aura) yet they will also cry in sympathy with his all too apparent torment. The harper, meanwhile, is beyond pitying himself. He has reached a point of numbness. He is no longer conscious of the inner pain that must be so apparent to those he meets. The text reveals nothing about his inner life. The articulate minstrel is here silent.

Original Spelling

An die Thüren will ich schleichen

An die Thüren will ich schleichen, 
Still und sittsam will ich stehn; 
Fromme Hand wird Nahrung reichen; 
Und ich werde weiter gehn. 
Jeder wird sich glücklich scheinen, 
Wenn mein Bild vor ihm erscheint; 
Eine Thräne wird er weinen, 
Und ich weiß nicht was er weint.

Confirmed by Peter Rastl with Schubert’s source, Goethe’s Werke. Zweyter Band. Original-Ausgabe. Wien, 1816. Bey Chr. Kaulfuß und C. Armbruster. Stuttgart. In der J. G. Cotta’schen Buchhandlung. Gedruckt bey Anton Strauß page 131; with Goethe’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe letzter Hand. Zweyter Band. Stuttgart und Tübingen, in der J.G.Cotta’schen Buchhandlung. 1827, page 121; and with Goethe’s Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe letzter Hand. Neunzehnter Band. Stuttgart und Tübingen, in der J.G.Cotta’schen Buchhandlung. 1828, page 227.

First published in Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre. Ein Roman. Herausgegeben von Goethe. Dritter Band. Berlin. Bei Johann Friedrich Unger. 1795, page 146. The poem appears in Book 5, Chapter 14 of Goethe’s novel.

To see an early edition of the text, go to page 131 [139 von 350] here: http://digital.onb.ac.at/OnbViewer/viewer.faces?doc=ABO_%2BZ223421905