Loe raamatut: «Villa Eden: The Country-House on the Rhine», lehekülg 83
"I entreat Roland's father and Manna's father" – Eric's voice trembled, – "I entreat him, as a child, to be just towards me. You will yet learn that I spoke the truth at that time, and speak it now."
"Truth? Whew, truth! Leave me, I wish to be alone: I must be alone."
Eric and Manna left the room, holding each other by the hand. They waited outside for a long time. Joseph, who had been summoned, now entered Sonnenkamp's room. When he came out, he told Manna that Herr Sonnenkamp had sent to the city for a notary.
Eric and Manna went into the garden. And this is the power of love: in the midst of the most direful pain and suffering, they were inwardly cheerful as if all misery had been removed far away from them.
"You must take it from me," said Manna, after they had walked together for a long time in silence. "I don't know what it signifies; but it will not leave me. At that time, when the Prince visited us, his kind message to you affected me as if he had bestowed a benefit upon myself Do you remember? I delivered the message to you. At that time he said you were to remember that you had been the companion of his boyhood, and that he would like to prove to you that he was not forgetful of the fact. Now, don't you believe that you could do something for us? I don't know what; but I think – well, I don't know what I do think."
"It's the same with me," replied Eric. "I remember it as if it were the present moment; but I have no idea how to begin to avail myself of this gracious favor. O Manna! that was the first time it broke upon me how you felt towards me."
And the lovers lost all idea of their anxieties in recalling the past, how they wanted to avoid each other, and could not. All present sorrow vanished away.
On Manna's face there was a light as of an inextinguishable gleam of sunshine: her large dark-eyes glowed, for a free and strong soul shone through them.
"What are you smiling at now?" she suddenly asked Eric.
"Because an image has occurred to me."
"An image?"
"Yes. I've heard that a precious stone is distinguished from an imitation of one, by the fact that the dimness of lustre caused by breathing upon it immediately disappears. You, my Manna, you, are such a genuine pearl."
Whilst the lovers were promenading in the garden, Sonnenkamp sat alone, almost congratulating himself that he had something new to trouble him; and in the midst of his vexation there was a degree of pride, of pleasure, when he thought how courageously his child stood up there before him. She was his daughter, his proud, inflexible child. And his thoughts went further: Your child forsakes you, follows her own inclination, and your duty is done: your duty was to the daughter, for the son will build up an independent life. Frau Ceres – poh! – let them supply her with dresses and ornaments, and lull her to sleep with a pretty story. He went into the garden, into the green-house, where the black mould was lying in a heap. He put on his gray sack, grubbed in the dirt, smelt the fresh earth; but to-day there seemed to be no odor to it. He rent the garment in pieces as he took it off.
"Away forever!" he exclaimed. "Childish folly! It's all over!" He stood for a while before the spot where Eric had taken breakfast on the first morning. So this was the man, and he to be sole master here for the future? He to possess all this, – a schoolmaster?
The Cooper came along the road. Sonnenkamp called out to him, and commended his bringing up the fire-engine, adding, with a zest, that the settlers in the far West found this their best weapon against the savages, spurting hot water upon them; and it was still more effective to put in a trifle of sulphuric acid, and blind every one hit in the face. The cooper stared, with eyes and mouth wide open, at the man who could say these horrible things in such a free and easy way.
Sonnenkamp left him standing there, and, going into the orchard, helped very carefully and tenderly to gather the fruit. He thought of the days when this fruit was growing, of the spring when Roland was convalescent, of the visit of the Prince, the journey to the springs, the days of sunshine until now, the dewy nights; and he thought silently, when will there be another crop of fruit? how will it be with you then? where? perhaps under ground; then you cannot turn over the black mould: then his head swam.
It is a shame that we must die, and a double shame to know that we must.
He stared fixedly as if he were bewildered, for it came over him that on this very spot he had said something like this to Eric, the first morning he had come there. Has this place a peculiar power to awaken thoughts of death? Are you standing over the spot of earth which shall be your grave?
He was called away; for the notary with his two assistants had arrived just at the dinner hour. He sat down with him at the table, and appeared in as good spirits as if nothing had happened. The notary occupied Pranken's usual seat. After dinner, he transacted business with the notary, being long and busily engaged in writing. The two assistants signed as witnesses: so that nobody except those under oath knew any thing of the contents of the will.
After this was done, a letter came from Bella. She wrote to Sonnenkamp that she and Clodwig would come to the jury-trial, and he must bring it about that she should be among the twelve. Sonnenkamp smiled, for he had almost forgotten about it: it was all very well. Eric requested Roland and Manna to accompany the Mother, who wanted to make a visit at Mattenheim. They consented, and so the house was now perfectly still, almost entirely deserted.
CHAPTER VII.
PRELIMINARIES
The days passed away quiet and dull. Sonnenkamp sent off many letters, and read the newspapers, without sending them to Frau Ceres, as was his former custom.
The men came who had declared themselves ready to constitute the jury.
Sonnenkamp sent word to them that he would see no one until the time came for appearing before the tribunal. But an exception was made in regard to one person. Lootz was made the confidential agent, and Bella came to Sonnenkamp's room, through the climbing mistaria and the seed-room.
"Just a few words," Sonnenkamp said. "You could not form one of the jury; but I assure you, because such a being lives with me on the earth, I will live, and will yet show what constitutes a man. Here, in this room, will I speak."
He escorted her back through the seed-room: she knew that the door would be left open.
Bella went restlessly about the Villa, and she saw Lina who had come with her father, and who wanted to keep Manna company at this terrible time; but Lina was at a loss what to do with herself, when she found how the family was scattered.
She entreated Bella to go with her to Aunt Claudine, who was the only one left at home.
Bella said that she would come by and by.
Lina went to Aunt Claudine, and afforded her some real consolation, and even pleasure.
"Oh," asked Lina, "are Africans and negroes the same thing?"
"Most certainly."
"Well, I can't tell you how much I dislike Africans and negroes. I've nothing to say against their being free, why shouldn't they be? But they might have become so before this or afterwards: why, just at this very time? Why must they deprive me of my beautiful season of betrothal? Nobody is disposed to be merry, nobody talks of any thing else, by reason of these negroes. It's the fashion even to wear chains now, called Châines d'esclaves, – Oh, I wanted to ask you something – what was it – yes, I know now. Just tell me what they're going to do when the negroes get to be good people just like everybody else, what they're going to do then with the Devil?"
"What has the Devil to do with it?"
"Why, how are they going to paint the Devil, if he's not to be black any longer?"
Aunt Claudine had to indulge in a most hearty laugh, and she was very much rejoiced to be reminded that, in the midst of this monotonously sombre life, there was some liveliness still left in the world.
She was ready to go with Lina to the Castle, but just as they were leaving the house, Bella came. She begged that Aunt Claudine and Lina would not put off their excursion on her account, and shut herself up in the library, while the Aunt and Lina proceeded to the castle. They remained there until the afternoon, and often looked down to the Villa where "the men were all engaged in such a queer business," as Lina expressed herself.
Bella did not stay long in the library, but quickly returned to the villa, and noiselessly went up the steps overgrown with mistaria.
Sonnenkamp went to his wife, thinking that he must inform her of what was now going on. She tauntingly reminded him of his promise to return to America; she did not want the decision to be in the hands of strangers.
Sonnenkamp's practice was to let Frau Ceres speak just as long and as much as she pleased; for it was a matter of perfect indifference to him what she said.
When he had got through with this, he returned to his room, and sent word to those who arrived, that he would extend a welcome to them when he appeared before the tribunal.
Weidmann came first with the Prince Valerian and Knopf, then Clodwig with the Banker, and the Doctor with the Justice. Professor Einsiedel stopped a while at the dog-house, and talked very earnestly with the field-guard, and was highly delighted at the sound views of the man in dog-training. Once he tapped upon his forehead with the fore and middle fingers, wishing to impress upon his memory one observation of Claus, which explained to him a passage in the eighth book of Pliny, treating of land-animals.
The Major came in full uniform, wearing all his decorations; and when he saw that Clodwig had come in plain citizen's clothes, without a single decoration, he said to himself in vexation, —
"She was right here, too; but I thought as it was a tribunal of honor – well, no matter; it's no harm, anyhow."
Eric had made all the requisite arrangements in the music-saloon; but by Sonnenkamp's order, the chairs, the side-board set out with eatables and drinkables, and every thing else needful, were removed to Sonnenkamp's room. He placed his chair with a table before it near the door leading into the seed-room, to which he then withdrew.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE NEW CAIN
After the men had assembled, Eric knocked at the door, according to a pre-concerted arrangement; and, as it opened, Sonnenkamp came forward. A bluish pallor rested on his countenance, as he stepped up to the little table where two sticks for whittling and a pocket-knife were placed. Resting one hand upon the table, he began, —
"Gentlemen of honor and worth!" – here pausing a moment, he continued, "I use the words worth and honor, because they are not always, and, in fact, are very seldom, united together, – you fulfil a human duty in coming here at my call, and bestowing upon me a portion of your life, these hours, your feelings, and your thoughts. I acknowledge this favor. On the Western prairies, in the lonely log-house, in order to form an opinion of a man from whom wrong has been suffered, and in order to pronounce a verdict thereupon, and to execute it, we call in the neighbors living on the solitary farms for miles around; and I have done this now, and you have come here in obedience to the call. You are to pass a judgment, you are to decide upon what penalty shall be inflicted in reference to acts that cannot be weighed in the balances of legal statutes. I shall lay open to you, without reserve, my past life. I can do this the more easily, as you know already the worst in my case. You are to see how I have grown up from childhood, and then to decide and to judge. I have never felt pity myself, and I ask no pity from you: I ask for justice."
Sonnenkamp had begun in a depressed tone, and with downcast eyes; but he soon grew more animated, his countenance became more intent, and his eye lighted up.
"I make the declaration, therefore, that I accept your finding, and submit myself to whatever expiation you may determine upon. I have only one request. Let each one of you, within a week, write out his opinion, and render in his verdict; then let the paper be given into the hands of Herr Captain Doctor Eric Dournay, who will break the seal in the presence of two other persons.
"I will now withdraw a moment, in order that you may determine whether you will undertake the service under this condition, and, if you think it expedient, may choose a foreman."
He bowed. There was something theatrical and yet gravely composed in his manner of speaking, and in the way in which he now withdrew for a moment into the adjoining apartment.
The assembled gentlemen looked at one another; but no one spoke: all eyes were turned upon Clodwig, from whom an opinion was first expected.
He said now in a quiet and low tone, —
"Herr Weidmann will be so good as to undertake the office of foreman. We need one to make, in the first place, the necessary preliminary arrangements."
Weidmann at once accepted the position, and announced that he agreed to the proposal for a written verdict. The rest were also ready; but Professor Einsiedel, beginning timidly, and gaining more and more confidence as he proceeded, said that this ought not to exclude consultation together in order to elucidate and confirm the individual opinion: otherwise, all the effect of a common tribunal would be lost, and it would be superfluous for them to sit there together.
This opinion was acceded to, and Eric was deputed to call Sonnenkamp again into the room.
As Eric opened the door, he thought he noticed a nestling like that made by a silk dress, and he was at a loss what to make of it.
He found Sonnenkamp in the seed-room, hurriedly smoking a cigar: he laid it down, and went back to the audience-room.
Weidmann informed Sonnenkamp of the conclusion they had come to, and the remarks of Professor Einsiedel. Sonnenkamp nodded assent. "Before I resume," he said, taking one of the pieces of wood with a smile, "I must beg indulgence for a habit which I am sorry to say I cannot drop. I am in the habit, when I am alone, busy in thought – and I shall address you as if I were alone – as I remarked, I am accustomed either to smoke or to whittle, oftentimes both together. I can compose myself better if my accustomed practice is now indulged in."
He seated himself, took one of the bits of wood, and, cutting a deep notch around it, began, —
"I beg that any one of you will interrupt me with questions if involuntarily I leave any thing obscure or unexplained. Now then: I am the only son of the richest man in Warsaw. If I tell you of my youth, it is not because I wish to throw the responsibility of my acts upon circumstances or upon fate. My father had the largest business in wood and grain. When I was six years old, he removed to a large German town, for in clearing a forest my older brother had been killed by a falling tree; My mother died soon after, and lies buried with him in the village near by. I was often told that I should have a step-mother; but it was not so. My father – I speak as openly of him as of myself – was one of the most popular of men, but felt no affection for any person or thing on earth. He gave both hands to every one who approached him, and was extremely complaisant, kind, cordial, and expressive; but, as soon as a man had turned his back; he spoke slightingly of him. He was a hypocrite from choice, even where there was no necessity of being so. He was so even towards the beggar. This, however, I did not perceive until at a later period. At my father's table there were present state officials, artists, and learned men: they liked good eating, and, in order to get it, were obliged to set off our table with their decorations and titles. We gave great parties, and had no social visiting. There were grand banquets in the house, and there sat down at them men decorated with stars, and women with bare shoulders: at the dessert I was brought in, passed from lap to lap, carressed and flattered, and fed with ices and confectionery. I was dressed handsomely, and in some old lumber-room there must be a portrait, – I would give a great deal to come across it again, – painted life-size, and with crisped locks, by the first court-painter, and afterwards sold with the rest of our household stuff. We had no relatives. I had a private tutor; for my father did not want to send me to a public school. I grew up the idol of my father, and he always kissed me warmly when I was carried to him by his order. My tutor indulged me in every thing, and taught me to regard myself alone as the central point of all, and never to pay any regard to my dear fellow human beings. This helped me more than he could imagine. The capital thing is to blunt the conscience, as it is termed: all men do it, but some more superficially than others. The world is nothing but a collection of egoisms hanging loosely together. When I was sixteen years old, I had already fallen into the hands of usurers; for I was the heir of a million, and that was a larger sum then than seven times as much to-day. My father's solicitor settled with them, and, as soon as that was done, I ran up new bills, delighted that my credit was so good. In short, I was a fast youth, and I continued to be so. I have already said, I believe, that I had no love, no respect even, for my father, who was – the truth must be told – one of the most exquisite hypocrites that ever wore the white cravat of respectability. My father was a very honest hypocrite. Others dissemble, and whitewash it over with a coating of ideality, persuading themselves that there is something real and actual in other things than money and pleasure. My father was also a philosopher, and used to say, My son, the world belongs to him who has strength or cunning enough to conquer it; and whoever takes a sentimental view has the pleasure of taking it, and nothing more."
Sonnenkamp scraped energetically at the bit of wood which he held in his hand, and for a moment nothing was heard but the scratching of the knife rounding off the end.
"This being said," he resumed, "I can continue with calmness. At seventeen years of age, I was a spendthrift, inducted into all kinds of respectable iniquities. I was a jolly comrade, a good-for-nothing fellow; but I was respectable, rich, and therefore very popular; for nature and destiny had been terribly lavish in securing this result. My father regularly paid my gambling debts and other debts also. He went with me to the ballet, and often handed me his more powerful opera glass, that I might get a better view of the sylph-like Cortini, who was no stranger to me, as he very well knew. Yes, we were a jovial set. My father gave me only one counsel, and that was, Don't confine yourself to one. Every Sunday I must dissemble, and say I was going to church; but my father knew well enough, and took a secret satisfaction in the knowledge, that I went elsewhere. Our carriage stood every other Sunday at the church where the most pious and celebrated preacher held forth; and on the alternate Sunday we did not drive, but walked, for then our coachmen also went, and our horses, too, had a Sunday. Our very servants must appear pious. My father was Protestant, and I was Catholic out of regard to my mother. I leave it for others to decide in which confession hypocrisy is cultivated the more successfully.
"Now the question came up what was I to do? I had no fancy for sitting at the accountant's desk, and wanted to be a soldier; but I was not of noble rank, and was not willing to be received at the Jockey Club simply on sufferance. I dropped off from my youthful companions, and from that time played the gentleman. I went to Paris. I enjoyed a superfluity of the pleasures furnished by the world. Most people plume themselves upon their virtue, and their virtue is nothing more than a feebleness of constitution; they make a virtue of necessity. When I had sowed enough wild oats, my father sent for me. I lived at home, and the specimens I saw before me of what was termed virtue were nothing but cowardice, and fear of not being respected. To be virtuous is a bore; to appear virtuous is amusing and profitable at the same time. Every thing that can be done without detection is allowable: the main thing is to belong to society. I often went from the most brilliant assemblies into the wretchedest dens; and the lowest vice seemed to me the most worthy of respect. I was a roué, and remained so. We were proud of being a rollicking and reckless crew. It had a sort of poetic tinge. Let one be a poet like Byron, be a genius, an exception to the ordinary crowd, and what in lower conditions would be crime is then regarded as a gallant feat. I saw that the whole world was vice under a mask, and I think there is no vice; the name is given, poison is written on the phial, so that the bulk of mankind may not drink out of it. I was made acquainted, whether accidentally or designedly I do not know, with a beautiful girl, fresh as a rose. It was time that I, at one and twenty, should settle down as a married man. All congratulated me on having sowed my wild oats, as it is termed, and that I was now to become a respectable husband and the head of a family. My betrothed was an enthusiastic child, and I don't understand it to this day, how she could make light of my past as she did, probably under the direction of her mother. Why I married the child I do not know. As I was going to church, and returning from it, as I was making the wedding trip, in which every thing was very modest and proper, it seemed to be somebody else, and not myself, who was the actor. We returned, and – but I will spin out the story no further than to say, that I discovered an earlier attachment of the sweet child. The only thing that vexed me was to be laughed at. I left her, and while the arrangements were being made for a separation, she died, and with her an unborn life. I was again free, free! That means that I was in Paris. I wanted to enjoy life: to drain the cup to the very dregs. Dissipation, dissipation, was my sole end: I yearned for distracting pleasure – I wanted to exhaust life, and every morning it was new born. My soul was a void, a void everywhere. I despised life, and yet did not fling it from me. What has life to offer? Reputation or riches – the former I could not strive after, the latter was open to me. My father wanted to hold me within a narrow range. I operated on the Exchange. I gained considerable sums, and lost them again, but still had enough left to keep afloat by means of gambling. I was at Marseilles, among a jolly set, when I heard of my father's death. The largest part of my inheritance was seized upon by my creditors, and, because I wanted to have no recollections of home, I wrote to the attorney to sell off every thing. A malicious saying went the rounds after his death. We had had no idea how well he was known; now it was said, 'There was one good thing about him, and that is, he was better than his son.'
"The Germans say that God and the Devil are wrestling with one another for the dominion of the world. I have hitherto only heard of these two mighty potencies, they have never yet presented themselves before me; but I was convinced that there were two things engaged in a strong tussle, and these were Work and Ennui. Men benumb themselves in work, in pleasure, in the foolery of morality, as it is termed. All is vanity, the wise king has said; but it ought to be said, All is stale, tedious, flat, a long-drawn yawn, that ends only in the death-rattle. I have run over the whole sandy desert of ennui, and there is no remedy there but opium, hashish, gambling, and adventure. I took lessons of a juggler, and acquired great skill, for which I stood in high repute among my companions; I had the most splendid apparatus. I lived in Italy at a later period, out of pure wantonness, as a juggler by profession. I was in Paris at the time of Louis Philippe; there's nothing merrier than these frequent émeutes: they are the people's games of chance."
Sonnenkamp stopped, and now, boring with his knife very delicately, he said, —
"Do you look at me in astonishment, because I impart wisdom? Well, that is also insipid like every thing else: honor, gold, music, friendship, glory, all is emptiness. The men of virtue, the men of honor, are all like those augurs who could not look into each other's faces without laughing at the idle tale which they impose upon the world. The gods of to-day, in the church as well as in the world, say, we know that you are only hypocrites; but that you must play the hypocrite is an evidence of our authority. And the so-called delight in nature, in mountain and valley, in water and forest, sunlight and moonlight and starry brightness – what does it all amount to? a mere cheat, a curtain to hide the grave you are to lie in. What is a man to do in the world? Do you know that millions have lived before him, and have looked at the stars? Is he to be proud of playing the same old tune over and over again, like the man with his hurdy-gurdy, grinding out the same melody to-day and to-morrow that he did yesterday? You see I had learned my Byron by heart. The misfortune was, that I was neither a poet nor a highly interesting pirate. I was disgusted with the world and with myself. I did not want to kill myself. I wanted to live, and to despise every thing. I had madly, as if in mockery of myself, lost every thing at play; and now came the merriest thing of all. It was a cold, wet night; but it suited me well, as I went through the streets, completely plucked as I was. Whew! How lustily the wind blew! it was cooling. Here was I traversing the ant-hill of the great city; my money I had gambled away, and my love had been unfaithful. A nice, prudent little fellow there was, who proved to me over a bottle of canary, that I possessed a capital which I didn't understand how to put at interest; that I was a born diplomatist. I knew the decoy-duck at the first whistle. I was to be a diplomatist, and so I sported that character. New horses, new servants, a new love, and a large new house, were now mine. I was an attaché; in good German, I was a spy. I cover the word with no nice little moral cloak. The life was a merry one. This time the discovery had been made: now dissembling had a definite end. The praise which the ambassador lavished upon me I deserved more than he was aware. Did you ever hear of being insured against the insurance company? I brought the ambassador most important information; but I had an after appointment with the minister of police, and gave him secret notice of the ambassador's machinations. The ambassador gave me false information; but we could extract from this what his real intention was."
A smile passed over the countenances of the hearers, and Sonnenkamp continued, —
"A day came when I must flee. I had the choice of five passports with five different names under which to travel. I wanted, first of all, concealment; and one is best concealed among so called honest people. I came to Nice, where I was a gardener. All my senses were paralyzed. I seemed to myself a corpse, and as if I with my thoughts were only the companion of this corpse. Here I and the gardener became one again; the odor of the moist earth was the first thing that, for a long time, had given me any pleasure, no, that made me feel I was alive. Chemistry can imitate every thing; but the fragrance that rises out of the fresh earth no perfume ever possessed. Herr Dournay surprised me on the first hour of his arrival, just as I was digging in the fresh mould. It gave me strength. The masquerade pleased me; I had good sleep, a good appetite. The gardener's daughter wanted to marry me. I had again a reason for flight. I had laid away a good sum of money; now I dug it up. I began a new life of pleasure at Naples. I confess I was proud of assuming all sorts of transformations: I was entirely afloat, in good health and good spirits. I had a good circulation, and social talent: the world was mine. I had friends wherever I went: how long were they my friends? Perhaps only so long as I stuck fast to my money. That was a matter of indifference to me. I desired no loyalty, for I gave none. I was always thankful to my parents for one thing; they had given me an indestructible constitution. I had a body of steel, a heart of marble, and unshakable nerves; I knew no sickness and no pity. I have experienced many provocations to pity" —
He paused. It was the only time during his whole speech that he smiled; and a peculiar smack of satisfaction proceeded from him.
Then he continued: —
"A strange trait of sentimentalism stuck fast to me, however. It was at Naples, on a wonderfully beautiful evening, we were sailing in a miscellaneous and merry party on the sea, and I was the merriest of the whole. We disembarked. Who can tell what transpires in a human being? At this time, there, under the bright Italian sky, in the midst of laughing, singing, jesting men and women, the thought darted through my mind: What hast thou in the wide world? Nothing. Yet there is one thing: yonder in Poland thy mother's grave. And out of laughing, wanton Italy, I travelled without halt through the different countries, saw nothing, journeying on and on towards dreary, dirty Poland. I came to the village that I had not seen since my sixteenth year. And such is man – no, such am I! I did not want to undergo the pain of seeing my mother's grave. I looked over the burial-ground hedge; but I did not go inside, and travelled back again without having seen the grave. Such am I, so good or so bad; I believe they are one and the same thing. I travelled through Greece and Egypt, and was in Algiers. I have led a life of utterly unbridled excess, and have done every thing to undermine my vital power, but have failed to accomplish it. I have an iron, indestructible constitution. I was in England, the land of respectability. It may be that I have a special eye to see them; but I saw everywhere nothing but masks, hypocrisy, conventionalism. I took ship for America. You will laugh when I tell you that I meant to join the Mormons, and yet such is the fact. These people have the courage and honesty to ordain polygamy by law, while in the rest of the world it exists under a lying disguise. But I was not suited to that community. I soon returned to New York, and there I found the high-school and the Olympus of gamblers. The fast livers of Paris and London are bunglers compared with the Yankees. It was the fashion to declaim against the Southern chivalry; but I have found among them truly heroic natures, of the stuff out of which conquering Rome was built up. Only he who has been in America knows what the being that calls himself man is in reality. Every thing there is reckless, untramelled. They only dissemble in the matter of religion, that's respectable."
