Enough, my good Stern! I, Multatuli, take up the pen. You are not called upon to write Havelaar’s biography. I created you: I brought you over from Hamburg: I taught you good Dutch in a very short time: I made you kiss Louise Rosemeyer, of the Rosemeyers, who trade in sugar. . . . it is enough,Stern! you may go.
“This Shawlman and his wife. . . .”
Stop!! miserable spawn of dirty covetousness and blasphemous hypocrisy! I created you:you have grown into a monster under my pen:I am disgusted with my own creation. . . . choke yourself with coffee and begone!
Yes, I, Multatuli, “who have suffered much,”I take the pen. I do not make any excuses for the form of my book,that form was thought proper to obtain my object. That object has a double end
In the first place, I would bring forward something which may be preserved as a holy poosaka by “little Max” and his sister, when their parents have died of sheer want.I would give to these children a testimonial from my own hand.
