Withered Leaves Volume Iii Part 12

"You often appear to me," said Blanden, "like a charming Savitri, and although you also are my G.o.ddess of fire, I do not mean her, but the child which bore her name. A dark prophecy dedicated the beloved one to death after the lapse of a year, but before the fatal respite drew near, she performed daily penances, praying and fasting; and like a marble G.o.ddess standing before the altar, and when the blood-red G.o.d of death appeared, with the thin rope in his hand, and had already extracted her beloved one's soul, she knew how to move him by her prayers, entreaties, and her touching faithfulness, until he granted her her husband's life. You, too, with faithful care and touching prayer have won my life from the blood-red Yamna."

"It was my own life," replied Giulia; "without you I could not have lived, you yourself told me that the funereal pile is lighted with sacred fire into which the Hindoo widow casts herself. That pure flame was the fire of your love for me; they die for him who had lived for them, how much more must I have sought death for him who would have died for me?"

Trembling in the bliss of such devoted affection, she thought of Beate and her errand with eagerness as terrified as that with which the Hindoo maidens follow the flower-clad little boats, carrying burning lamps, and which they have confided to the waves of the Ganges; if the lamp extinguish, then extinguishes the light of hope, and a silent desire entrusted to the stream, finds its watery grave. When Blanden told her this, how she had thought of her light-s.h.i.+p that was now tossing upon the waves of the Orta lake; perhaps already the north wind which blew through the pa.s.ses of the Simplon had extinguished the little lamp of her hopes.

It was a weird shadow which followed her through life. Oh, how she envied the G.o.ds and peris who dwelled in enchanted gardens far above the everlasting snow upon the summits of the Himalayas, envied them not the flowers of Paradise, not the ethereal light, not the glorious song of the Gandharvos, not because they drink the Indian ambrosial amreeta in fox-gloves out of the moon, which, for fourteen days, the sun has filled with that drink, but only the one privilege, that of walking in light and casting no shadow behind them. An unshadowed bliss, this for her was unattainable for evermore!

Even the measures of precaution by which she had intended to conceal from Blanden her defeat upon the stage, were only successful for a time. One day a deputation of students, in caps of every hue, came to Blanden. Salomon was the speaker.

"We know, Herr von Blanden, that Frulein Bollini is your betrothed, we wish you happiness, although the muse of song--her name I cannot recollect this moment, as we sons of the muses care less for them than might be expected--will veil her face. A report is spread abroad that you forbid your betrothed to tread the world-renowned stage."

"It is her own free will," replied Blanden.

"We respect you," continued Salomon, "because you have shown in a knightly manner how a man should defend his lady's honour, and even, although we have no lady-loves, at least no perennial plants, who bear the t.i.tle of wife or betrothed, we know well how to appreciate such conduct."

A murmur of approval from the students denoted their concurrence in those words.

"Therefore it is that we address you with the entreaty that you persuade your betrothed to appear again upon the stage. We are all now ready to protect her, after having learned with whom that disgraceful outrage originated."

"What outrage?" asked Blanden astonished.

Salomon was surprised at the question.

"But surely you know, Herr von Blanden?--"

"Indeed, I know of nothing!"

The deputation became uncomfortable, the students looked at one another in amazement. Salomon, however, was soon calmed, and at the same time delighted at his own shrewdness, as he imagined he was able to see through the matter; he snapped his fingers and said--

"Then our respected _prima donna_ has concealed this from you out of tender feeling, so as not to cause you any excitement which might be deleterious to your health. But now that the mention of the unpleasant fact has escaped the custody of our lips, you will be able to bear the sad news with manly dignity. Yes, on that evening on which Giulia was to sing Rosina's part, she was hissed, drummed out, and whistled at, until the curtain had to be lowered."

Blanden sprang up wrathfully.

"The worthless creatures; oh, I know--"

"It was a conspiracy," added Salomon.

"Savitri, faithful nurse, this then was your penance," said Blanden dreamily to himself.

"It was desecration of the temple to the muses."

"That is why the criticisms on the 'Barbire di Sevilla' could not be found when I wanted to read them," said Blanden.

"A most unholy alliance between the companions of Spiegeler the reporter, and a clique got together by an officer, carried off a disgraceful victory on that eventful evening. Very few members of the Albertina, alas, were present, but we have now resolved to make Signora Bollini brilliant amends upon her next appearance. The n.o.ble clubs of Masuren and Lithuania, the Albertina itself with all its societies; the Hochheimers, Goths, Teutons and Borusses are unanimous, which does not often happen, and even the independent Camels will join the students'

union. We shall not permit a small party to be the leaders of taste in the theatre, we will represent the _vox populi_ with overwhelming force, and the pillars of the old shop of the muses shall tremble with the thunder of our acclamations. Long live Signora Bollini!"

"Hurrah!" cried the students, waving their caps.

"I thank you from my heart, gentlemen," said Blanden, "but the decision upon this point rests with the actress."

"But you have much influence over her! We will offer her consolation and compensation. May she console herself with Schiller--

'The mean world loves to darken what is bright;'

then Heine's verses will become true--

'And a new-born song spring softly From the heal'd heart shoots to-morrow.'

"I am fond of quoting, Herr von Blanden, it is an act of disinterested love of truth; our cultivation consists entirely in half unconscious or unguaranteed quotations. Why not declare openly that Bartel knows on which side his bread is b.u.t.tered?"

As Salomon began to diverge--a known peculiarity of the versatile talented youth--one of the seniors, whose face, rendered purple by many a cut and thrust, bore artistic marks of kind friends legibly sketched upon it, a.s.sumed the reins of the transaction with a firm hand.

"Let the Signora appear, we will protect her! If that clique venture forth once more, we will reply to their second brutal blow with fitting tierce and quart, so that their ears shall tingle."

"I repeat," said Blanden, "that I am very grateful to you, but I cannot even support your wish."

"Why not?" asked Salomon, dissatisfied with the meagre results of his eloquence.

"I do not wish that my betrothed shall be again exposed to the storms of public opinion; I will guide her into a safe haven. The laurels of the European capitals will console her for this small defeat; even for Signora Bollini's laurels, may Frau von Blanden long no more, she will belong to quite another world, and I wish that too violent equinoctial gales should not accompany her to this change in her life, so that she may be able calmly to prepare herself for it. But this, of course, is only my opinion, I shall not interfere at all with my betrothed's resolutions, and she will in any case rejoice at your warm sympathy, and the honor which you intend for her."

Blanden shook hands pleasantly with the students' delegates, while he added, every one of the gentlemen should be welcome who would be present at his wedding.

Soon after, he went to Giulia; he reproached her for having concealed from him the scene in the theatre; she was alarmed that he should have heard of it.

"Silence," said she, "is not always as the German poet says, the G.o.d of the happy, but just as often the G.o.d of the unfortunate."

"Do you think that I should have rejected you as Rama rejected his Sita, when the opinion of the people turned against her? Do you believe that you are less dear to me, fill my whole heart less, when the senseless mob calumniates you?"

"Oh, that is not the cause of my silence towards you; I feared that you might excite yourself for my sake. I would not let any shadow from without cast its gloom into your sick chamber."

"Oh, you are so gentle and good! Goodness of heart is little prized in the world, and yet all wisdom depends upon it, it alone is the guarantee of happiness. Giulia, shall you appear upon the stage again?"

"Never," replied the singer.

"They would prepare you a brilliant triumph, you would retire from the stage richer by one beautiful recollection! Weigh it well!"

"Is it your wish?"

"Only if you wish it!"

"No, no! I want no more laurel wreaths, and if I retire with a painful memory, my parting from the stage will be all the easier; I want nothing more in the world but your love. Buried be my past, oh, could I but bury it deeply!"

"But not all!" said Blanden, "shall even the beautiful recollection of the magic lake be buried? Every day of happiness was a picture of future enchanting years. Do you remember the charming Indian poem, 'Calidas,' of which I told you? Oh, that Indian poetry is like the madhavya plant, which from its very root is full of flowers. I always think of that lovely Sacontala, and the marriage of Gandarvos, by which upon the flowery seat of the hermit's cave she united herself to the king. Then in the Indian legend ensues a time of long, dreary forgetfulness, but upon our life rests another curse. At last Sacontala saw her beloved one again; misunderstandings were cleared up, and the short enchanting meeting became a lasting alliance. Therefore will I, my lotus-flower, kiss the tears from your cheeks, as King Duschmanta kissed his regained beloved one."