"It is very kind in her to take such good care of my character, particularly as I am a stranger in town. She is doubtless learned in the Clothes-Philosophy."
"And ignorant of every thing else. She asked a friend of mine the other day, whether Christ was a Catholic or a Protestant."
"That is really too absurd!"
"Not too absurd to be true. And, ignorant as she is, she contrives7 to do a good deal of mischief in the course of the year. Why, the ladies already call you Wilhelm Meister."
"They are at liberty to call me what they please. But you, who know me better, know that I am something more than they would imply by the name."
"She says, moreover, that the American ladies sit with their feet out of the window, and have no pocket-handkerchiefs."
"Excellent!"
They crossed the market-place and went up beneath the grand terrace into the court-yard of the castle.
"Let us go up and sit under the great linden-trees, that grow on the summit of the Rent Tower," said Flemming. "From that point as from awatch-tower we can look down into the garden, and see the crowd below us."
"And amuse ourselves, as old Frau Himmelhahn does, at her window in the Hauptstrasse," added the Baron.
The keeper's daughter unlocked for them the door of the tower, and, climbing the steep stair-case, they seated themselves on a wooden bench under the linden-trees.
"How beautifully these trees overgrow the old tower! And see what a solid mass of masonry8 lies in the great fosse down there, toppled from its base by the explosion of a mine! It is like a rusty9 helmet cleft10 in twain, but still crested11 with towering plumes12!"
"And what a motley crowd in the garden! Philisters and Sons of the Muses13! And there goes the venerable Thibaut, taking his evening stroll. Do you see him there, with his silver hair flowing over his shoulders, and that friendly face, which has for so many years pored over the Pandects. I assure you, he inspires me with awe14. And yet he is a merry old man, and loves his joke, particularly at the expense of Moses and other ancient lawgivers."
Here their attention was diverted by a wild-looking person, who passed with long strides under the archway in the fosse, right beneath them, and disappeared among the bushes. He was ill-dressed,--his hair flying in the wind,--his movements hurried and nervous, and the expression of his broad countenance15 wild, strange, and earnest.
"Who can that be!" asked Flemming. "He strides away indignantly, like one of Ossian's ghosts?"
"A great philosopher, whose name I have forgotten. Truly a strange owl!"
"He looks like a lion with a hat on."
"He is a mystic, who reads Schubert's History of the Soul, and lives, for the most part, in the clouds of the Middle Ages. To him the spirit-world is still open. He believes in the transmigration of souls; and I dare say is now followingthe spirit of some departed friend, who has taken the form of yonder pigeon."
"What a strange hallucination! He lives, I suppose, in the land of cloud-shadows. And, as St. Thomas Aquinas was said to be lifted up from the ground by the fervor16 of his prayers, so, no doubt, is he by the fervor of his visions."
"He certainly appears to neglect all sublunary things; and, to judge from certain appearances, since you seem fond of holy similitudes, one would say, that, like St. Serapion the Sindonite, he had but one shirt. Yet what cares he? he lives in that poetic17 dream-land of his thoughts, and clothes his dream-children in poetry."
"He is a poet, then, as well as a philosopher?"
"Yes; but a poet who never writes a line. There is nothing in nature to which his imagination does not give a poetic hue18. But the power to make others see these objects in the same poetic light, is wanting. Still he is a man of fine powers and feelings; for, next to being a greatpoet, is the power of understanding one,--of finding one's-self in him, as we Germans say."
Three figures, dressed in black, now came from one of the green alleys19, and stopped on the brink20 of a little fountain, that was playing among the gay flowers in the garden. The eldest21 of the three was a lady in that season of life, when the early autumn gives to the summer leaves a warmer glow, yet fades them not. Though the mother of many children, she was still beautiful;--resembling those trees, which blossom in October, when the leaves are changing, and whose fruit and blossom are on the branch at once. At her side was a girl of some sixteen years, who seemed to lean upon her arm for support. Her figure was slight; her countenance beautiful, though deadly white; and her meek22 eyes like the flower of the night-shade, pale and blue, but sending forth23 golden rays. They were attended by a tall youth of foreign aspect, who seemed a young Antinous, with a mustache and a nose à la Kosciusko. In other respects a perfect hero of romance.
"Unless mine eyes deceive me," said the Baron, "there is the Frau von Ilmenau, with her pale daughter Emma, and that eternal Polish Count. He is always hovering24 about them, playing the unhappy exile, merely to excite that poor girl's sympathies; and as wretched as genius and wantonness can make him."
"Why, he is already married, you know," replied Flemming. "And his wife is young and beautiful."
"That does not prevent him from being in love with some one else. That question was decided25 in the Courts of Love in the Middle Ages. Accordingly he has sent his fair wife to Warsaw. But how pale the poor child looks."
"She has just recovered from severe illness. In the winter, you know, it was thought she would not live from hour to hour."
"And she has hardly recovered from that disease, before she seems threatened with a worse one; namely, a hopeless passion. However, people do not die of love now-a-days."
"Seldom, perhaps," said Flemming. "And yet it is folly26 to pretend that one ever wholly recovers from a disappointed passion. Such wounds always leave a scar. There are faces I can never look upon without emotion. There are names I can never hear spoken without almost starting!"
"But whom have we here?"
"That is the French poet Quinet, with his sweet German wife; one of the most interesting women I ever knew. He is the author of a very wild Mystery, or dramatic prose-poem, in which the Ocean, Mont-Blanc, and the Cathedral of Strassburg have parts to play; and the saints on the stained windows of the minster speak, and the statues and dead kings enact27 the Dance of Death. It is entitled Ahasuerus, or the Wandering Jew."
"Or, as the Danes would translate it, the Shoemaker of Jerusalem. That would be a still more fantastic title for his fantastic book. You know I am no great admirer of the modern French school of writers. The tales of Paul de Kock, who is, I believe, the most popular of all, seem to me like obscene stories told at dinner-tables, after the ladies have retired28. It has been well said of him, that he is not only populaire but populacier; and equally well said of George Sand and Victor Hugo, that their works stand like fortifications, well built and well supplied with warlike munitions29; but ineffectual against the Grand Army of God, which marches onward30, as if nothing had happened. In surveying a national literature, the point you must start from, is national character. That lets you into many a secret; as, for example, Paul de Kock's popularity. The most prominent trait in the French character, is love of amusement, and excitement; and--"
"I should say, rather, the fear of ennui31," interrupted Flemming. "One of their own writers has said with a great deal of truth, that the gentry32 of France rush into Paris to escape from ennui, as, in the noble days of chivalry33, the defenceless inhabitants of the champaign fled into the castles, at theapproach of some plundering34 knight35, or lawless Baron; forsaking36 the inspired twilight37 of their native groves38, for the luxurious39 shades of the royal gardens. What do you think of that?"
The Baron replied with a smile;
Thus conversing41 of many things, sat the two friends under the linden-trees on the Rent Tower, till gradually the crowd disappeared from the garden, and the objects around them grew indistinct, in the fading twilight. Between them and the amber-colored western sky, the dense42 foliage43 of the trees looked heavy and hard, as if cast in bronze; and already the evening stars hung like silver lamps in the towering branches of that Tree of Life, brought more than two centuries ago from its primeval Paradise in America, to beautify the gardens of the Palatinate.
"I take a mournful pleasure in gazing at that tree," said Flemming, as they rose to depart. "It stands there so straight and tall, with iron bandsaround its noble trunk and limbs, in silent majesty44, or whispering only in its native tongue, and freighting the homeward wind with sighs! It reminds me of some captive monarch45 of a savage46 tribe, brought over the vast ocean for a show, and chained in the public market-place of the city, disdainfully silent, or breathing only in melancholy47 accents a prayer for his native forest, a longing48 to be free."
"Magnificent!" cried the Baron. "I always experience something of the same feeling when I walk through a conservatory49. The luxuriant plants of the tropics,--those illustrious exotics, with their gorgeous, flamingo-colored blossoms, and great, flapping leaves, like elephant's ears,--have a singular working upon my imagination; and remind me of a menagerie and wild-beasts kept in cages. But your illustration is finer;--indeed, a grand figure. Put it down for an epic50 poem."
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1
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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6
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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contrives
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| （不顾困难地）促成某事( contrive的第三人称单数 )； 巧妙地策划，精巧地制造（如机器）； 设法做到 | |
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8
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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12
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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muses
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的第三人称单数 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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27
enact
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| vt.制定(法律)；上演，扮演 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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munitions
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| n.军火，弹药；v.供应…军需品 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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ennui
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| n.怠倦，无聊 | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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33
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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34
plundering
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的现在分词 ) | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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forsaking
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| 放弃( forsake的现在分词 )； 弃绝； 抛弃； 摒弃 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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39
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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40
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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43
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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44
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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45
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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46
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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47
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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48
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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49
conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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50
epic
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| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
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