He had come, as usual, to say good-morning and Cordt had told him to wait while he finished a letter. The letter had been sealed for some time, but Finn had not noticed it. He was watching the game down below and bending forward to see better.
Then the children were called in. He laid his head against the window-frame again and looked up at the grey sky. He thought of Hans, who had left for Paris that morning and was to remain abroad for two years.
[256]Cordt sat silent. From where he was, he could see Finn’s profile: the forehead, which was so white, the eyelids1, which lifted themselves so heavily, the mouth, which was so tired and so weak.
“Finn!”
Finn started and turned round.
“Did you see Hans off?”
“Yes.”
Finn sat down by the window where he stood, with bent2 head and his hands upon his knees. He wound the cord of the blind round his fingers and unwound it again.
“I wonder if you will miss Hans?”
“Oh ... yes.”
“I shall,” said Cordt. “Hans represents the new order at its finest ... the hero in modern poetry ... the engineer, you know, whom they can never put on the stage without making him insipid3 ... because he never acts a part. He is strong and has the courage to employ[257] his powers. To us he often seems lacking in refinement4 and he finds it difficult to grant us our due. He has no ancestors ... he is the ancestor ... he founds a dynasty.”
“Yes,” said Finn.
They sat silent for a while.
There was no doubt in Cordt. He knew what he wanted and wanted it. He did not seek for kind words, but strong words. Finn knew this too. He sat like a culprit awaiting sentence and was thankful for every minute that passed.
Then they looked up into each other’s eyes.
They measured each other’s strength. And Finn was strong in his hopelessness, even as Cordt was strong in the hope which he could not let go, because he had nothing else to fall back upon.
“Do you know that you are a born artist, Finn?”
[258]Finn smiled sadly and shook his head.
“You are,” said Cordt. “There is no doubt about it. When you were travelling abroad ... there was simply nothing in your letters but delight at the pictures you saw. Your journey was one long progress through a royal gallery. At sea, in the street, on the mountains ... everywhere you caught life and hung it on your wall and sat down to look at it.”
“Did I?”
“Had you not been born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you would have been lost beyond redeeming5. You would have become a painter ... no ... an author.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“What use is literature to us modern people?” said Cordt. “Where does it lead us? How does it form our lives? If the old poets had lived nowadays, they would certainly have been merchants, or electricians, or arctic navigators.... Just[259] look round you, Finn ... the books we read, the pictures we look at, the plays they perform: isn’t it all like an orchestra that plays for an hour while people walk about the grounds? Tired people, who like to hear a bit of music before they go to bed. The band plays its tune6 and gets its pay and its applause and we are interested in seeing that the performance is well and properly given.... But ... the poet, Finn.... A solitary7 horn sounds over the hills. We drop the plough and listen and look up, because the notes seem to us so rare and so powerful and we have never heard them before and know them so well. Then our eyes glisten8. And the sorrow that bent our back and the gladness that held us erect9 and the hope we had ... all of that suddenly acquires color and light. And we go whither the horn calls us ... over the hills ... to new green fields where it is better living.”
[260]“Father....”
Finn raised his head, but then could not find the phrase for what he wanted to say.
“Don’t you think that the poet must be a man ... a man like the others, with courage in his breast and a sword at his thigh10? Then he goes forth11 and sings them to battle and wedding, to dance and death. He is a part of the business, foremost in the crowd.”
Cordt nodded:
“They did that also,” he said. “But the poets we now have do nothing else. There will always be fiddlers as long as there are idle women and women with two husbands and wars and kings. As long as the stars wander so far through the sky and the children cannot catch the bird that flies in the bush.... But never[261] mind that, Finn. Never mind that. Just look at those who sit in the orchestra to-day.... Would you sit among them? They are sick people singing about their sickness. One is sick with love and one with lewdness13 and one with drink. One chants his faith on vellum, another sells his doubts in sixpenny editions. The feeble will of the one quavers in silly verses ... the other intoxicates14 his pale fancy with blood and horrors drawn15 from the olden times. Do you think that a free man would of his own accord select his place among those artists?”
Finn looked up with his quiet eyes:
“Who is a free man, father?... Are you?”
Cordt put his hands on Finn’s shoulders and bent over him and looked at him:
“You are, Finn.... You are a free man ... if you wish to be.”
“Father....”
[262]Finn put out his hands like a child asking for something. But Cordt looked at him inexorably. And so strong and radiant was his glance, that Finn tried to escape it, but could not; tried to speak, but was silent.
Then Cordt walked across the room, up and down, with great, calm strides, and spoke16 and was silent and never for a moment released his son from his stern grasp.
His words seized Finn and lifted him up where things were great and beautiful and bitterly cold, he thought; then let him fall again, till he relapsed into his own dark corner; and seized him anew and carried him aloft.
But, when Cordt ceased, it was to Finn as though he heard a flourish of trumpets17 from the clouds proclaiming that other words were now coming, greater still and austerer, more loving, ever heavier to bear.
“You are right, Finn.... I am not a[263] free man, I never was. I am bound up in the tradition that built my house and bore my race and, when I could not support the tradition, things broke for me. But that did not make me free.... Those were heavy days, Finn. I could not understand it, you see, and I fought to the end. I was young and strong and I was in love. You are fond of the old room ... you can hear the legends up there singing their powerful, melancholy18 song.... Remember, Finn, I am one of those on whom the legend is laid. I have lived in the secrecy19 of the old room.... I have stood, in my calm, proud right ... up there, where the room stood, unseen by any one except the master of the house and his wife ... always remote and locked and hidden in its time-honored might ... always open to him who owned it.... I left it like a beaten man. But I could not retire into a corner and mourn, for I[264] had you, Finn. You were only a little child then, so I could not know how your paths would go. I knew only one thing, that you would never sit with your wife up there, where people became so small when they sat down in the big chairs and where it was so pleasant and so safe. I was the last. With me, the tradition of the old room was finished.... Then I had to try if I could find my way in the world which I did not understand. I had to go through all that which I disliked so desperately20 and which had killed my happiness. For myself, I had nothing to gain: I was a bound man and a wounded. But I had you, Finn.... And I had to know if they were building properly and honestly somewhere behind all the dancing and flirting21 and singing which I saw before my eyes. Or if it was no different from what my eyes saw and if I should not be doing best to carry my child out into the[265] mountains and let the wild beasts tear it to pieces.... I was alone in this. Your mother went to live in an old house beside the old house where her happiness could not grow. There she found peace. But I needed no refuge. Where I was, I was at home: I only wanted to see the place where you and your children should flourish.... I did not spare myself, Finn. I sought honestly, south and north, east and west. I took their books ... the light ones burst like soap-bubbles in my hands and the powerful ones my thoughts had to struggle to understand. Not one of their green visions but has been with me in my room, not one of their bright swords but has flashed before my eyes.... I did not allow myself to be blinded by my own bitterness, or tricked by catch-words, or frightened by abuse. I went on as long as I could see the way ... and longer, Finn. I peered out into the farthest,[266] where those who thought as I did saw nothing but horror and insanity22.... And Finn ... I don’t know.... Perhaps it was your mother’s God that helped me ... perhaps it was my ancestor, who himself had sailed into harbor and raised our house on new ground for many a good, long day. Perhaps it was your little hand, which lay so trustingly in mine, when you used to come to me in those anxious, lonely days and say good-morning and good-night.... I don’t know. I daresay it was my love for you that lifted me above myself. I climbed as high up the mountains as a mortal can climb. It all lay under my feet like a cloud ... longing23 and happiness and daily bread and daily trouble. I could not see the valley in which my house was built. But out of the cloud, over the mountain, I saw the road where we hustle24 and strive, generation after generation, ever forward[267] towards the goal which we cannot see, but which is there, because the road is there.... And I saw land ... the promised land of you and your children ... from the mountain where I stood. A land I did not know ... a land strange to my eyes ... people with other habits and other beliefs, with a different form of love and a different code of honor.... I saw it through the storm that flung the door of the old room wide open.... That was a strange time, Finn ... the strongest in my life and the happiest.”
Cordt stood at the window with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked at his son and smiled sadly. Finn sat still, with his head thrown back in his chair and his eyes closed.
“Then I equipped you for the journey, Finn.... I did not show you this way or that, for I was a bound man and could not go with you. I gave you books and[268] masters, who opened all the gates of the world to you. I let you look into the mist where you wanted to ride. I feared nothing, because I wanted nothing for myself and because I had seen through the mist.... You grew up and I saw that you grew good and clever. Then I sat down and waited and longed for the day when I should wave to you from the balcony of my old house, when you marched forth to conquer your new land.... I was right to wait for the day.... Ah.... I have seen them, the poor devils, hungry and wounded, rush blindfold25 towards the new, which they did not know, because it could not possibly be worse than the old. I have heard them call for new laws because they had violated the old ... they were driven from their huts and sat on the deck of the emigrant-ship with their bundle and their uncertain hope for a better fate in the new[269] world.... But you.... You had done no wrong and had nothing to revenge. Free as a king’s son, you rode over the bridge with your retinue26 and rode through the world and planted your banner wherever you chose to dwell. Born of your mother’s longing for excitement ... in your father’s house, whose walls are as thick as the walls of a castle ... with the strong air of the old room in your lungs and without its yoke27 upon your neck ... a rich and spotless nobleman, taking his place of his own free will in the ranks of the revolution.”
He was silent. His steps sounded heavily through the stillness:
“Are you with me, Finn?”
“Yes, father.”
“Come.”
Finn rose. Cordt put his arm over his shoulder and they paced the room together.
[270]“I had so many dreams, Finn. And I gained such confidence, because my own happiness was shattered and I had you. I had become an old man, but my mind was not blunted. I had suffered shipwreck28, but I was not afraid of the sea. I believed in life ... in God, if you like.”
They did not walk well together and Cordt removed his arm. Finn sat down in his chair again and listened. Cordt went on walking:
“Then came the days which you know ... the days of the present.... You grew up into the quiet man you are. Your eyes looked heavily upon life, you shrank back timidly when you saw that there was fire and smoke on earth.... You kept your scutcheon untarnished, but that is easily done, when one doesn’t fight. You were never in places where one does not wish to be seen ... that is true. But you never went outside your[271] door, Finn ... never. There was no fire in your blood, no desire in your thoughts. You were tired, Finn ... merely tired.... I grew frightened for you.... As the years passed, you had become more to me than a son. You were not only flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone ... you were a link in the human chain that goes on through the ages, ever onward29. Your hand was in mine, but your life was more precious than mine. For you had to carry a greater burden and to carry it into new ways.... Remember, Finn, I had been on the mountain and seen through the mist. It was more than the question of an inheritance, more than family pride and family loyalty30. You and I were allied31 in a great cause. And I sat with the map before me and followed the course of the battle ... like an old soldier, who can no longer sally forth himself, but who has his son and his colors and his emperor[272] under fire.... Remember how I had arrived at where I was. Remember what I had lost, what I had let go, how completely I had sacrificed myself for you. I had you, Finn ... had I anything else?... When I, then, became frightened for you, I plunged32 into my wonderful treasure and endowed you lavishly33. I told you the legend of the old house and thought it would call you to arms, like the blast of the bugle34 over the camp. I revealed your father’s and your mother’s fate to you, that you might see how people fight for happiness. I sent you out into the world, where life is bigger and stronger than at home, so that life might make you into a man.... But never ... never did I put any constraint35 upon you. Never did I usurp36 the place of Providence37.... And you turned over the pages of the picture-book and came home paler than before and wearier. The old room[273] was merely a charming poem to you, that sang you into deeper dreams. Up there ... where the strong men of our race met their wives, when the sun went down upon the business of the day, and talked gladly and earnestly when their hearts impelled38 them to ... there you sit, alone, all day long, with your slack hands.”
Then he laid his hands firmly on Finn’s shoulders. And Finn looked up with moist eyes and quivering mouth.
“To-day, Finn, I have given you your inheritance. From to-day, I look upon you as of age. You were such that one could not use coercion39 with you ... and, in fact, there was none that wanted to use it. Nor could one be angry with you ... you were the same ... it was the same ... always. To-day, that is past. Go out and buy yourself a house and take a wife and have children by her. And remember that, if there were some in the[274] family that fell, there was none that flinched40.”
“Father.... I understand you ... but I cannot do what you want.”
Cordt took a step back and tossed his thick hair from his forehead:
“You pale people understand everything, because no faith blinds your eyes: you are so kind and clever, you think. You judge leniently41, you do not judge at all, you know that the truth is nowhere and everywhere. You justify42 every silly thought you have entertained ... you sit for all time and contemplate43 your navel ... and then you let the murderer go and the thief escape. God help you poor wretches44! The stupidest, the most ignorant dervish is cleverer and kinder than you!”
Finn wanted to say something, but Cordt made a preventive gesture with his hand:
“A man must not understand everything.[275] He must choose and judge and reject. If he doesn’t do that, there is no happiness in the world and no loyalty and no peace. And, if he cannot hate, he cannot love either.”
He went to the window and looked out. And, as he stood there, Finn came up to him and seized his hand and looked at him pleadingly:
“I can’t do what you want,” he said.
But Cordt withdrew his hand and moved away from him:
“You have no right to say that to me, Finn. I won’t listen to it. For what I want is only that you should live. Take the inheritance which I have given you and use it as you can. One day, you shall be called upon to answer for your son, as I to-day for you.”
Finn smiled sadly:
“I shall never have a son,” he said, softly.
[276]Cordt did not hear what he said. He was struggling with a memory ... passed his hand over his face and stared before him. He saw Fru Adelheid ... that evening in the old room, when she had said what Finn was saying now ... the same hopeless, impotent words: “I cannot do what you want.”
He sat down and fell back in his chair.
All the despair of the old days came over him like a tremendous weariness. He was struggling against what was stronger than himself. He had nothing to set against that eternal, hopeless, “I cannot do what you want.”
Then he sprang up and stood in front of Finn with blazing eyes:
“If it’s your mother who paralyzes your will, then fly from her, hate her, thrust her from you....”
“Father ... father....”
“Hate her, I say. She was smitten[277] with the pestilence45 from her youth. She understood everything ... like you. To her nothing was small or great, nothing near or far. Her will was gone, like yours. She knew where the glory lay, if she could reach it, but she could not. She hearkened to the times and the times made her their own. She was always sick ... sick unto death.”
He crossed the room and said nothing more.
They were both of them very pale and both longed to be alone. They had nothing more to say to each other.
And Finn was not angry on his mother’s account. He thought only of the one thing, that he could not do what Cordt wanted and could not appease46 his sorrow ... could not even tell him that he loved him. And then he longed to sit still ... in the old room ... with his[278] mother, who was so pretty and whom he had never offended:
“Are you angry with me, father?”
Cordt looked at him long and intently. Then he said:
“Yes.”
But, when Finn was gone, he sat with his face buried in his hands and wept.
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收听单词发音
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1
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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2
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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3
insipid
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| adj.无味的，枯燥乏味的，单调的 | |
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4
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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5
redeeming
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| 补偿的，弥补的 | |
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6
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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7
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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8
glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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9
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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10
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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11
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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12
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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13
lewdness
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| n. 淫荡, 邪恶 | |
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14
intoxicates
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| 使喝醉（intoxicate的第三人称单数形式） | |
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15
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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16
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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17
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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18
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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19
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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20
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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21
flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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22
insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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23
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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24
hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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25
blindfold
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| vt.蒙住…的眼睛；adj.盲目的；adv.盲目地；n.蒙眼的绷带[布等]； 障眼物，蒙蔽人的事物 | |
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26
retinue
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| n.侍从；随员 | |
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27
yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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28
shipwreck
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| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
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29
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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30
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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31
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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32
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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33
lavishly
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| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
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34
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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35
constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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36
usurp
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| vt.篡夺，霸占；vi.篡位 | |
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37
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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38
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
coercion
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| n.强制，高压统治 | |
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40
flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
leniently
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| 温和地，仁慈地 | |
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42
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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43
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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44
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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45
pestilence
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| n.瘟疫 | |
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46
appease
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| v.安抚，缓和，平息，满足 | |
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