"Hark to trumpets and beaten gongs,Squeaking fiddles, shouts and songs. Hurra! hurra! The Doctor is here;And here the hills where fun belongs." J. L. HEIBERG.
We will not follow the principal characters of our story step forstep, but merely present the prominent moments of their lives toour readers, be these great or small; we seize on them, if they inany way contribute to make the whole picture more worthy ofcontemplation.
The winter was over, the birds of passage had long since returned;the woods and fields shone in the freshest green, and, what to thefriends was equally interesting, they had happily passed throughtheir examen philologicum. Wilhelm, who, immediately after itstermination, had accompanied his sister home, was again returned,sang with little Jonas, reflected upon the philosophicum, and alsohow he would thoroughly enjoy the summer,--the summer which in thenorth is so beautiful, but so short. It was St. John's Day.Families had removed from Copenhagen to their pretty country-seatson the coast, where people on horseback and in carriages rushedpast, and where the highway was crowded with foot-passengers. Thewhole road presented a picture of life upon the Paris Boulevard.The sun was burning, the dust flew up high into the air; on whichaccount many persons preferred the pleasanter excursion with thesteamboat along the coast, from whence could be seen the traffic onthe high-road without enduring the annoyance of dust and heat.Boats skimmed past; brisk sailors, by the help of vigorous strokesof the oar, strove to compete with the steam-packet, the dark smokefrom which, like some demon, partly rested upon the vessel, partlyfloated away in the air.
Various young students, among whom were also Wilhelm and Otto,landed at Charlottenlund, the most frequented place of resort nearCopenhagen. Otto was here for the first time; for the first time heshould see the park.
A summer's afternoon in Linken's Bad, near Dresden, bears a certainresemblance to Charlottenlund, only that the Danish wood is larger;that instead of the Elbe we have the Sound, which is here threemiles broad, and where often more than a hundred vessels, bearingflags of all the European nations, glide past. A band of musiciansplayed airs out of "Preciosa;" the white tents glanced like snow orswans through the green beech-trees. Here and there was a fire-placeraised of turf, over which people boiled and cooked, so that thesmoke rose up among the trees. Outside the wood, waiting in longrows, were the peasants' vehicles, called "coffee-mills," completelyanswering ho the couricolo of the Neapolitan and the coucou of theParisian, equally cheap, and overladen in the same manner withpassengers, therefore forming highly picturesque groups. This scenehas been humorously treated in a picture by Marstrand. Between fieldsand meadows, the road leads pleasantly toward the park; the friendspursued the foot-path.
"Shall I brush the gentlemen?" cried five or six boys, at the sametime pressing upon the friends as they approached the entrance tothe park. Without waiting for an answer, the boys commenced at oncebrushing the dust from their clothes and boots.
"These are Kirsten Piil's pages," said Wilhelm, laughing; "theytake care that people show themselves tolerably smart. But now weare brushed enough!" A six-skilling-piece rejoiced these littleSavoyards.
The Champs Elys閑s of the Parisians on a great festival day, whenthe theatres are opened, the swings are flying, trumpets and drumsoverpowering the softer music, and when the whole mass of people,like one body, moves itself between the booths and tents, present acompanion piece to the spectacle which the so-called Park-hillaffords. It is Naples' "Largo dei Castello," with its dancing apes,shrieking Bajazzoes, the whole deafening jubilee which has beentransported to a northern wood. Here also, in the wooden booths,large, tawdry pictures show what delicious plays you may enjoywithin. The beautiful female horse-rider stands upon the woodenbalcony and cracks with her whip, whilst Harlequin blows thetrumpet. Fastened to a perch, large, gay parrots nod over the headsof the multitude. Here stands a miner in his black costume, andexhibits the interior of a mine. He turns his box, and during themusic dolls ascend and descend. Another shows the splendid fortressof Frederiksteen: "The whole cavalry and infantry who have enduredan unspeakable deal; here a man without a weapon, there a weaponwithout a man; here a fellow without a bayonet, here a bayonetwithout a fellow; and yet they are merry and contented, for theyhave conquered the victory." [Note: Literal translation of thereal words of a showman.] Dutch wafer-cake booths, where thehandsome Dutch women, in their national costume, wait on thecustomers, entice old and young. Here a telescope, there a rareDanish ox, and so forth. High up, between the fresh tree boughs,the swings fly. Are those two lovers floating up there? A currentof air seizes the girl's dress and shawl, the young man flings hisarm round her waist; it is for safety: there is then less danger.At the foot of the hill there is cooking and roasting going on; itseems a complete gypsy-camp. Under the tree sits the old Jew--thisis precisely his fiftieth jubilee; through a whole half-century hashe sung here his comical Doctor's song. Now that we are readingthis he is dead; that characteristic countenance is dust, thosespeaking eyes are closed, his song forgotten tones. Oehlenschl鋑er,in his "St. John's Eve," has preserved his portrait for us, and itwill continue to live, as Master Jakel (Punch), our Danish Thespis,will continue to live. The play and the puppets were transferred fromfather to son, and every quarter of an hour in the day the piece isrepeated. Free nature is the place for the spectators, and after everyrepresentation the director himself goes round with the plate.
This was the first spectacle which exhibited itself to the friends.Not far off stood a juggler in peasant's clothes, somewhat advancedin years, with a common ugly countenance. His short sleeves wererolled up, and exhibited a pair of hairy, muscular arms. The crowd,withdrawing from Master Jakel when the plate commenced itswanderings, pushed Otto and Wilhelm forward toward the low fencebefore the juggler's table.
"Step nearer, my gracious gentlemen, my noble masters!" said thejuggler, with an accentuation which betrayed his German birth. Heopened the fence; both friends were fairly pushed in and took theirplaces upon the bench, where they, at all events, found themselvesout of the crowd.
"Will the noble gentleman hold this goblet?" said the juggler, andhanded Otto one from his apparatus. Otto glanced at the man: he wasoccupied with his art; but Otto's cheek and forehead were coloredwith a sudden crimson, which was immediately afterward supplantedby a deathly paleness: his hand trembled, but this lasted only amoment; he gathered all his strength of mind together and appearedthe same as before.
"That was a very good trick!" said Wilhelm.
"Yes, certainly!" answered Otto; but he had seen nothingwhatsoever. His soul was strangely affected. The man exhibitedseveral other tricks, and then approached with the plate. Otto laiddown a mark, and then rose to depart. The juggler remarked thepiece of money: a smile played about his mouth; he glanced at Otto,and a strange malicious expression lay in the spiteful look whichaccompanied his loudly spoken thanks: "Mr. Otto Thostrup is alwaysso gracious and good!"
"Does he know you?" asked Wilhelm.
"He has the honor!" grinned the juggler, and proceeded.
"He has exhibited his tricks in the Jutland villages, and upon myfather's estate," whispered Otto.
"Therefore an acquaintance of your childhood?" said Wilhelm.
"Of my childhood," repeated Otto, and they made themselves a waythrough the tumult.
They met with several young noblemen, relatives of Wilhelm, withthe cousin who had written the verses for the Christmas tree; alsoseveral friends from the carouse, and the company increased. Theyintended, like many others, to pass the night in the wood, and atmidnight drink out of Kirsten Piil's well. "Only with theincreasing darkness will it become thoroughly merry here," thoughtthey: but Otto had appointed to be in the city again towardevening. "Nothing will come out of that!" said the poet; "if youwish to escape, we shall bind you fast to one of us."
"Then I carry him away with me on my back," replied Otto; "andstill run toward the city. What shall I do here at night in thewood?"
"Be merry!" answered Wilhelm. "Come, give us no follies, or I shallgrow restive."
Hand-organs, drums, and trumpets, roared against each other;Bajazzo growled; a couple of hoarse girls sang and twanged upon theguitar: it was comic or affecting, just as one was disposed. Theevening approached, and now the crowd became greater, the joy morenoisy.
"But where is Otto?" inquired Wilhelm. Otto had vanished in thecrowd. Search after him would help nothing, chance must bring themtogether again. Had he designedly withdrawn himself? no one knewwherefore, no one could dream what had passed within his soul. Itbecame evening. The highway and the foot-path before the parkresembled two moving gay ribbons.
In the park itself the crowd perceptibly diminished. It was now thehigh-road which was become the Park-hill. The carriages dashed byeach other as at a race; the people shouted and sung, if not asmelodiously as the barcarole of the fisher men below Lido, stillwith the thorough carnival joy of the south. The steamboat movedalong the coasts. From the gardens surrounding the pretty country-housesarose rockets into the blue sky, the Moccoli of the north above theCarnival of the Park.
Wilhelm remained with his young friends in the wood, and there theyintended, with the stroke of twelve, to drink out of Kirsten'swell. Men and women, girls and boys of the lower class, and jovialyoung men, meet, after this manner, to enjoy St. John's Eve. Stillsounded the music, the swings were in motion, lamps hung out,whilst the new moon shone through the thick tree boughs. Towardmidnight the noise died away; only a blind peasant still scratchedupon the three strings which were left on his violin; some servant-girlswandered, arm-in-arm, with their sweethearts, and sang. At twelveo'clock all assembled about the well, and drank the clear, ice-coldwater. From no great distance resounded, through the still night,a chorus of four manly voices. It was as if the wood gods sang inpraise of the nymph of the well.
Upon the hill all was now deserted and quiet. Bajazzo and ilPadrone slept behind the thin linen partition, under a coverlid.The moon set, but the night was clear; no clear, frosty winternight has a snore beautiful starry heaven to exhibit. Wilhelm'sparty was merry, quickly flew the hours away; singing in chorus,the party wandered through the wood, and down toward the strand.The day already dawned; a red streak along the horizon announcedits approach.
Nature sang to them the mythos of the creation of the world, evenas she had sung it to Moses, who wrote down this voice from God,interpreted by Nature. Light banished the darkness, heaven andearth were parted; at first birds showed themselves in the clearair; later rose the beasts of the field; and, last of all, appearedman.
"The morning is fairly sultry," said Wilhelm; "the sea resembles amirror: shall we not bathe?"
The proposal was accepted.
"There we have the Naiades already!" said one of the party, as aswarm of fishermen's wives and daughters, with naked feet, theirgreen petticoats tucked up, and baskets upon their backs, in whichthey carried fish to Copenhagen, came along the road. The gay youngfellows cast toward the prettiest glances as warm and glowing asthat cast by the sun himself, who, at this moment, came forth andshone over the Sound, where a splendid three-masted vessel hadspread all her sails to catch each breeze. The company reached thestrand.
"There is some one already swimming out yonder," said Wilhelm. "Hestands it bravely. That is an excellent swimmer!"
"Here lie his clothes," remarked another.
"How!" exclaimed Wilhelm: "this is Otto Thostrup's coat! But Ottocannot swim; I have never been able to persuade him to bathe. Now,we will out and make a nearer acquaintance."
"Yes, certainly it is he," said another; "he is now showing hisskill."
"Then he must have been all night in the wood," exclaimed Wilhelm."Yes, indeed, he's a fine bird. Does he fly us? He shall pay for this. Good morning, Otto Thostrup," criedhe; "have you lain allnight in the water, or in any other improper place? To quit friendswithout saying a word does not appertain to the customs ofcivilized people. Since you, therefore, show yourself such a man ofnature, we will carry away your garments; it cannot annoy you inpuris naturalibus to seek us out in the wood."
Otto raised his head, but was silent.
"Now, will you not come forth?" cried Wilhelm. "Only kneelingbefore each of us can you receive the separate articles of yourdress, so that you may again appear as a civilized European." Andsaying this he divided the clothes among the others; each one heldan article in his hand.
"Leave such jokes!" cried Otto with singular earnestness. "Lay downthe clothes, and retire!"
"Aye, that we will, presently," returned Wilhelm. "You are a finefellow! You cannot swim, you say. Now, if you should not kneel"--
"Retire!" cried Otto, "or I will swim out into the stream, and notreturn again!"
"That might be original enough," answered Wilhelm. "Swim forth, orcome and kneel here!"
"Wilhelm!" cried Otto, with an affecting sigh, and in a moment swamforth with quick strokes.
"There he shoots away," said one of the party. "How he cuts thewaves! He is a splendid swimmer!"
Smiling they gazed over the expanse; Otto swam even farther out.
"But where will he swim to?" exclaimed, somewhat gravely, one ofthe spectators. "He will certainly lose his strength before hereturns the same distance."
They unmoored the boat. Otto swam far out at sea; with quickstrokes of the oars they rowed after him.
"Where is he now?" cried Wilhelm shortly afterwards; "I see him nolonger."
"Yes, there he comes up again," said another; "but his strength isleaving him."
"On! on!" cried Wilhelm; "he will be drowned if we do not come tohis help. Only see--he sinks!"
Otto had lost all power; his head disappeared beneath the water.The friends had nearly reached him; Wilhelm and several of the bestswimmers flung from themselves boots and coats, sprang into thesea, and dived under the water. A short and noiseless momentpassed. One of the swimmers appeared above water. "He is dead!"were the first words heard. Wilhelm and the three others nowappeared with Otto; the boat was near oversetting as they broughthim into it. Deathly pale lay he there, a beautifully formed marblestatue, the picture of a young gladiator fallen in the arena.
The friends busied themselves about him, rubbing his breast andhands, whilst two others rowel toward the land.
"He breathes!" said Wilhelm.
Otto opened his eyes; his lips moved; his gaze became firmer; adeep crimson spread itself over his breast and countenance; heraised himself and Wilhelm supported him. Suddenly a deep sighburst from his breast; he thrust Wilhelm from him, and, like amadman, seized an article of dress to cover himself with; then,with a convulsive trembling of the lips, he said to Wilhelm, whoheld his hand, "I HATE YOU!"