Читать книгу 3 Books To Know Nobel Prize in Literature - Paul Heyse - Страница 33

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"It's true! Rinaldo is in the old chains again!" exclaimed Edwin, as he entered the room where Balder sat alone, sunning himself in the window. He was apparently unoccupied, for he had hastily locked up the volume in which he had been writing verses, when he heard Edwin's step in the courtyard below, nevertheless the reflection of his poetic dreams still lingered in his eyes.

"Have you found her?" he asked. "How did she appear?"

"Exactly as usual, neither cordial nor repellant. Oh! child, if you could but solve this problem! How can one long for grapes, which not only hang too high, but are after all merely painted. If, in the moon, there live creatures resembling men, who breath a special atmosphere, and have in their veins some vital ichor different from our blood, they may appear like this girl. Something of the true woman is lacking, and yet she possesses everything that hundreds of others need to attain the full meaning of womanhood. My brain aches with trying to understand the mystery."

He threw himself into a chair before the table, now set for dinner, and drank a glass of water.

"And shall you go to her every day as before?" asked Balder sadly.

"As long as I can hold out. As long as it lasts. For I fear she will ultimately become such a mystery to herself, that she will commit some mad act. I proposed to cure her, to make life dear to her, to transform Mephistopheles, 'first of all I must bring her into better company.' But I don't imagine I shall succeed in finding a life purpose for her, a task which will really warm her heart, fill her days, and of which she can dream at night. Ah! if she only had a brain like that of my little hedge princess Leah! But that's the strangest thing of all: she's clever and yet entirely without any craving for knowledge; without prejudices and perfectly indifferent to the opinions of others, kind hearted without any interest in mankind; gay without being contented, bright without being warm—and I, as a punishment for my sins, am condemned to lavish as much heart's blood upon this strange specimen of her sex, as if I were attempting a moral transfusion, instead of the physical one that has long been tried. You'll see, child: when I've once succeeded in replacing the moon-lymph in her veins with warm, earthly human blood, the first dandy that comes along will reap the advantage, and I shall have to pocket the disappointment. However, perhaps your clairvoyant eyes will solve the enigma more easily than I."

"I—how should I—?"

"I promised to take her into the country to-morrow and to bring you with me. She's very anxious to make your acquaintance."

"You're joking, Edwin."

"Not at all. I should like to know what impression she makes upon perfectly unprejudiced persons. In spite of my own folly, I'm sure that you're not in love with her. If you become really dangerous to her peace of mind, so much the better, let her experience for once what the feeling is and I'll endure the inevitable disappointment with dignity. Seriously, child, I should like to see what she's worth 'between brothers.' Besides, you ought not to decline, for Marquard thinks a drive in this air would do you a great deal of good."

A pause ensued. Balder gazed silently into vacancy and did not seem disposed to give an immediate answer. At last he said: "You must not take it amiss, Edwin, but I can't go with you; surely you know it will be better for me to stay at home."

"Better? For whom?"

"For all. I should only be a burden if I were obliged to limp about everywhere with you—and then—I've been in ladies' society so little. I should be either very stupid, or say something awkward which would embarrass you."

Edwin had risen and now stood directly before him. "Can you look me in the eyes, you cunning hypocrite?" he exclaimed. "As if you could ever do or say anything awkward! I know exactly why you don't want to go: you think I'm only taking you out of brotherly love and courtesy, and would really much prefer being alone with my cold sweet heart. But this time, dear searcher of the heart, you're entirely wrong. I assure you, by all that a private tutor holds sacred: you'll do me a favor by making one of this party. Besides, I've exhausted my Latin, and fear if we're alone she'll discover it and give her tutor lover his discharge in good earnest."

He knew what a trump he was playing, in representing the affair as a sacrifice Balder was to make for him. But the latter, contrary to his expectation, remained firm in his refusal, and as he pleaded the sensitiveness of his chest, Edwin was compelled to desist from urging him. The real reason: that he was longing for a day when he could give himself up to his love dream undisturbed and also see Reginchen alone, he certainly did not confess to Edwin, perhaps not even to himself.

The next morning dawned as clear and bright as could be desired for a Sunday excursion. Punctually at ten o'clock Edwin entered Toinette's room. She came toward him with unfeigned cordiality, attired in a more simple dress than any he had yet seen, and laughed when she noticed his astonished face. "Is this right?" she asked. "This is the costume in which Duchess Toinette walked about her native city, when she had no court philosopher, court dwarf, or court splendor. I hope you're not courtier enough or tasteless enough to think this countrified garb pretty. Even my landlady, who has usually been very well satisfied with me, was horrified at the idea of my going into the country with my cousin—that's what you are now—in such a dress. But I've undertaken to cure you, as well as to be cured by you. You shall confess that beautiful things are beautiful and ugly ones ugly, and that we may make necessity a virtue or even a jest, but never a happiness or a pleasure."

"I'm afraid your cure will fail," he answered laughing. "You might crawl into a turtle's shell and still please me, if only your head and hands peeped out."

"So you're an incorrigible courtier!" she replied, shaking her white finger at him. "But where did you leave your brother?"

He told her that he had vainly endeavored to induce him to come with them.

"You've probably described me to him as something very horrible," she answered thoughtfully, "to the life, as I seem to you, a heartless, brainless, finery-loving creature. Well, perhaps he'll form a better opinion of me when he sees me with his own eyes; for I must make his acquaintance, that's settled. But now come. I feel a childish delight in the anticipation of this drive. We won't keep the carriage waiting."

"The carriage? Plebeian country parties set off from the city gate in a wagon. But you must be contented to walk there on your august little feet."

"Very well. You shall have no cause to complain of me."

She tied under her chin the strings of an old and somewhat shabby velvet hat, which however was very becoming to her young face, and called to Jean to bring her cloak. The boy came and saluted Edwin with the same solemn stiffness as usual. He was dressed in a common black suit, and only the high shirt collar recalled the livery. When the young lady told him that he might have his time until six o'clock in the evening and go to visit his parents, his thick lips curled for a moment in a joyful grin, but instantly resumed an expression of solemn respect. Then they left the house, and Toinette leaned lightly on Edwin's arm. The streets were full of people in their Sunday attire, elegant equipages rolled past them, the air was still, and when they crossed the bridge, all the windows of the old castle glittered in the autumn sunlight. Toinette paused before a huckster who was selling fruit.

"It's improper to eat in the street," she whispered to Edwin. "But just for that very reason you must buy me one of those beautiful apples. I feel as if I were masquerading. Why shouldn't we take advantage of our disguise? Or must people stare at plebeian picnics?"

"Heaven forbid!" he answered. "Eating is the main object. And as for the propriety—you see I wear no gloves today."

"But unfortunately, a terribly respectable hat. If the shops were not closed, I should make you oblige me by buying a new one at once. I liked your looks much better before; but it's no use now. We must both appear like scarecrows among the pretty Sunday toilettes."

"Then the birds will at least keep away from these grapes," he answered laughing, as he handed her a paper horn full of the fruit. "I'll put the apples in my pocket. Good Heavens! Here are the oranges I bought for Balder yesterday. What shall we do with all these blessings? Ah! here comes a droschky. Now we can eat our breakfast more comfortably."

He signed to the driver and helped his companion in. Just as he was in the act of entering the vehicle, he saw Leah approaching with her father. The old gentleman's face was as bright as ever, but his daughter looked somewhat paler, and for the first time Edwin noticed with surprise the dark brilliancy of her eyes and the grace of her walk. They also recognized him, the young girl with a sudden blush, the father, after a hasty movement as if to rush up to him, restraining himself. Then they went on in the stream of pedestrians, while Edwin entered the droschky and called to the driver: "To Charlottenburg!"

"Who was the beautiful girl to whom you just bowed?" said Toinette, turning to look after her.

"A former pupil. Do you think her beautiful? I confess I was somewhat struck by her appearance to-day. During the time I taught her, till within a few weeks ago, I noticed nothing remarkable in her face, except that she has very wise, earnest eyes."

Toinette made no reply and seemed lost in thought. After a time she said. "And what did you teach her?"

"If you'll not repeat it, to injure the child's character: in philosophy. To be sure it didn't last long."

"In philosophy? Is that a suitable study for us women? I thought it was only fit for men."

"So most men think, and that's why my little philosopher would find it hard to get a husband, if it should be noised abroad that she had taken lessons from me."

"That danger, as you know, would not frighten me, if you would take me for a pupil. But I fear I should disgrace you. I've learned too little and read too many novels."

"Novels are not the worst introduction to philosophy. Don't you think that Père Goriot affords more food for the thought, than many a text book placed in the higher schools for girls and which does not contain a syllable about what is called life?"

"It depends upon who reads it. I've had a great many thoughts. But they were so sad that they cannot have been the right philosophy, at least not yours; for you're always cheerful, so the world must wear quite a different aspect to you in your wisdom, from what it does to me in my stupidity."

"Very possibly," he said smiling. "But we must first prove it. You must tell me your thoughts, and I will tell you mine. Afterwards we'll see against which there are the fewest objections."

"And is there nothing more in philosophy? Did you make no farther progress in your lessons to that young lady?"

"Oh! no. I began with her at the A. B. C, told her how, from the most ancient times, thoughtful men had demonstrated the relations of things in the world and what singular dreams about origin and decay, soul and body, gods and spirits they had had. I'll wager that if you had listened, you would not have been bored; for you have a tendency toward melancholy, and philosophy is like a magic lantern; the clear outlines of the pictures of the world it conjures up can only appear on a dark background, but on that dark background is thrown the real brightness, the light that brings cheerfulness and peace, while the common every day sunlight, like ordinary human reason, is only sufficient for the every day restless flickering dawn."

She made no reply and gazed steadily into vacancy with a charmingly thoughtful expression.

After a pause she said: "And is any real goal reached? After pondering over everything, do we know something definite, something that cannot be called in question?"

"Yes and no. We arrive at what we have longed to know, the fact that there are secrets of which our narrow minds can never have anything more than a dim idea, although certain philosophers, who take the chimeras of their own brains for the revelations of omniscient truth, venture to give information even in regard to them. But is it not a gain to learn how much we are capable of knowing, and where the ever shrouded abysses lie? And the way along these—can you not imagine that it would be as refreshing and full of enjoyment, as to wander amid lofty mountains, among glaciers and ice fields, past ravines and waterfalls that seem completely inaccessible?"

"Yes indeed," she replied, "if one is sure footed and not predisposed to giddiness."

"The strength will increase on the way, if one is not a cripple when he leaves home. And then in addition to the pleasure of looking around, seeing the world, and drawing one's breath freely, do you know what other benefit will be received?" She looked at him inquiringly.

"In order to climb up, we throw away much of the useless and troublesome lumber we've dragged about in our shallow, thoughtless existence, and when we have reached the heights and arrived so much nearer to heaven and its stars, we learn to dispense with all this trash and despise it. The atmosphere is rarefied, and earthly things, viewed from the mountain tops, shrivel so incredibly that on coming down, we see the dearest objects and most beloved friends with very different eyes."

"By which they would hardly be the gainers. And then we should be more unhappy than before."

"No," he answered with an expression of quiet joy, as he thought of Balder, their boyhood, and all their struggling life in the bare tun. "What is really good and true, little as it may be prized by fools, appears for the first time in all its beauty, as allied to all the noble things we have experienced and learned far above the plane of every day life. You ought to make the attempt; I don't believe you would regret it. Besides," he added smiling, "my alpenstock and mountain shoes will always be at your service."

She looked earnestly into his face. "You think I don't see your aim. You want to destroy or disgust me with what you call my vanity, but which is really just as much a part of myself, as my brown hair, my white teeth, and my dark eyes. Very well, we'll make the trial. Begin the lesson at once; of course you must first tell me your thoughts, then you shall hear mine. So: 'in the beginning God created Heaven and earth'—"

He laughed and took a bunch of grapes from the paper horn that lay on the opposite seat of the carriage. "What are you thinking of?" he answered in a jesting tone. "This is Sunday, and we're going on an excursion into the country. What would you say of a banker who accompanied a lady to Charlottenburg and talked to her on the way about stocks and bonds? To-morrow, if you feel inclined to listen, I'll read you as many lectures as you desire. With you, I shall at least run no risk, as in the case of my other pupil, of being discharged by an orthodox father and a theological aunt, on account of dangerous theories. And I'm not afraid of wearying you! For in the first place I can't imagine any novel so interesting as the history of truth, and secondly you know my weakness in being unable to look at you long without talking stupid nonsense."

She shook her finger at him again. "Don't let me repent that I didn't take little Jean with me for a chaperon, because I thought you a knight without fear and without reproach. And now we'll eat our breakfast."

Meantime the droschky was moving on in that contemplative trot which distinguishes the Berlin droschky horses above all others of their race and calling, over the broad road on which, during the last few weeks, the trees in the Thiergarten had strewed all their autumnal foliage. In spite of the beautiful weather, the foot paths on each side were entirely deserted, for the real stream of pleasure-seekers does not pour out of the city gates until the afternoon. They passed only solitary couples, so absorbed in themselves that they did not notice the two who drove by them eating grapes. Now and then, a carriage dashed past their phlegmatic horse. Whenever this occurred, Edwin saw that Toinette made an impatient movement and wrapped herself more closely in her cloak. The air was soft, almost still, but her ducal blood seemed chilled by the slow pace at which they moved. He laughed.

"I see clearly that your habit of being drawn by four horses makes you impatient of this half way style. Shall we dismiss our carriage and continue our way on foot?"

She instantly assented, called to the coachman to stop, and without waiting for Edwin's assistance sprang out as lightly as a feather. She did not even take his arm, but walked swiftly beside him, still holding in her hand the horn from which she was eating the last grapes.

"Why mayn't I give you my arm?" he asked.

"Look at those other couples," she answered petulantly. "Is there anything more out of taste than the sentimental custom of keeping step? Either the gentleman must take little mincing steps like the lady, or she must accommodate herself to his pace by making long strides, which is still more ugly. And all this because they love each other! We have not even that excuse, so let each walk as is most comfortable. You can't lose me, for I haven't a groschen in my pocket. If I ran away from you, I should be obliged to starve."

He laughed and said that was not the mode of death usual among duchesses, especially when they had such black eyes; to which she retorted that her duchy was hanging up in the closet at home; if she sold it she could scarcely live on the proceeds a fortnight, and even for that length of time not in a style suitable to her rank. Such were the harmless jests with which they amused each other as they walked on; he had never seen her in such gay spirits, and it was happiness enough for him, after his long separation from her, to be permitted to walk beside her and look at her every movement. It was so charming to see her eat the grapes, and when the paper was empty bite an apple with her little white teeth. She had removed her gloves and untied the strings of her hat and the sunlight falling through the bare branches flickered over her lovely face.

On reaching the first of the long row of villas, she stopped to rearrange her dress. It was even more lonely here. Most of the houses, on account of the early commencement of autumn, had already been deserted; in the gardens of the pleasure resorts, the Pagoda and others, tables and benches still stood awry, as they had remained during the long rains, and the yellow leaves were not even brushed away. But all this dreariness and inhospitality could not damp the spirits of our young pair. Toinette—and especially Edwin—were delighted to have the beautiful castle garden all to themselves.

"It's strange," said the young girl as they walked through the silent avenues and at last paused beside the famous carp pond, where to-day the broad heads of the fishes were scarcely visible beneath the thick covering of yellow leaves—"I always feel happiest and gayest when everything around is very grey and dreary. When anything was going on in my little native city, a ball or a shooting match, or any kind of festivity, I always felt very melancholy among the happy cake-eating crowd. And in our castle park, which is almost as ancient and venerable as this, and has a great many places where it's not safe to go, I've wandered about half a day like a little deer, and been perfectly at home. Do you see now that I'm nothing out of my fine clothes, that it's from no coquetry that I prefer to wear velvet rather than calico? Here, for instance, even beside you, I feel too poor and shabby for these royal avenues. You smile. Say what you please, it may be vain and foolish and brainless, but it's natural to me, and I can't help it, I shall carry it with me to the grave."

Meantime they had reached the mausoleum of Frederick William III. and his beautiful queen. The invalid soldier who guarded it was asleep on a bench, and when wakened seemed greatly surprised to see visitors so early, but Edwin gave him a large fee, and he opened the silent hall of death without objecting. Edwin did not enter it for the first time; but the magical solemnity of the dusky room had never moved him so deeply, as on previous visits he had been admitted with a crowd of strangers. Now the light fell through the blue dome upon the silent marble figures and the young fresh girl at his side, who could not resist the spell of the place, and mutely, with a strangely eager expression, as if expecting some solemn event to happen, gazed for a long time at the glorified image of the royal lady. Edwin at last approached her, and in a whisper asked if she were ready to go. She did not hear him and remained spell bound by the fascination of the place, until the door keeper rattled his keys and reminded them it was time to leave. Then, as if longing for some hand to lead her back to life out of the regions of the dead, she took Edwin's arm and even in the sunlight that shone upon the park walked beside him a longtime in silence, absorbed in her own thoughts. He too kept silence, though his heart was burning. Never had she seemed so lovable, so far above all other women whom he had even known, as during her quiet reverie in the blue soft twilight. He had to use the utmost self control to speak of any thing but his passion.

"I'm really grateful to you," he began, "for being so deeply affected by that solemn spot. Scarcely any other place hallowed by art and association, has ever so moved me. Surely the fate of those two human beings has its influence too in the silence, the thought of so much dignity in misfortune, so much unassuming goodness on the throne, so much affection in the simplest form. Neither was intellectual or highly cultured. But in the decisive moment their innate nobility put the right words in their mouths, the right resolution in their hearts, and their thoroughly plebeian sense of duty always made them appear truly royal in the high position in which they were placed. And then—isn't it touching to think how this prosaic, sober, almost awkward monarch, devoted himself to his beautiful wife with an ideal love which outlasted death, and while building barracks and living simply and frugally in the plainest palace in his capital, was constantly thinking how he could have this house of death still more magnificently adorned by the greatest masters, because it contained his wife's heart and with it all the poetry of his life. Then at last he ordered his own effigy to be placed beside hers, wrapped in the simple soldier's cloak he had preferred to the purple mantle, that even in death, he might remain faithful to himself and to her. Isn't there greatness in so much humility, and more true royalty in this unassuming figure than in all the boastful imperial pomp of this great conqueror?"

At first she did not answer. Not until they approached the gate of the park and she drew her hand lightly from his arm to put on her gloves, did she say: "You're perfectly right; the only true nobility is to remain faithful to one's self. The common run of mankind concern themselves much about their neighbors' opinion, imploring their advice as to the guidance of their lives, but he who has the germ of a noble nature lives and dies by the light of his own inward grace and is sovereign of himself. As for these rules of living, they are pitiful torments which evil unhappy meddlesome people have invented to sour the life of their fellow mortals. He who thrusts his neck under the yoke deserves the bondage. One can grow old in such a servitude and yet never know what it is really to live."