Ⅻ
Madam Hof was expecting Peer at herhouse,andnow he arrivedthere.
"Now you will meet my Hof,"she said,and youwill meet my fireside corner.I neverdreamed of thiswhen I danced in Circe and The Rose Elf in Provence.Indeed,there are not many now who think ofthat balletand of little Frandsen.Sic transit gloria inthe moon!-that's what my Hof,whois a witty fellow,calls it inLatin,and he uses that phrase when I talk about my timeof glory.He likes to poke fun at me,but he does itwitha good heart."
The"fireside corner"was an inviting room with a lowceiling,a carpet on the floor,and portraits suitablefor abookbinder to have.There were pictures ofGutenberg,and of Franklin,ofShakespeare,Cervantes,Molière,andthe two blind poets,Homer and Ossian.Lowest down hungone,enclosed in glass and a broad frame,of adanseuse,cut out of paper,withgreat gold spangles on a dress ofgauze,the right leglifted toward heaven,and with a versewritten beneath:
Who captures all hearts by her dancing?
Who wears her wreath of art entrancing?
Miss Emilie Frandsen!
It was written by Hof,who wrote charming verse,es-pecially comic verse.He had clipped thepicture out him-self and pasted and sewed it before he had married hisfirstwife.For many years it had lain in a drawer;now it wasdisplayed here in the poet picture gallery-"myfiresidecorner,"as Madam Hof called her littleroom.Here Peerand Hof were introduced to each other.
"Isn't he a wonderful man?"she said to Peer."Tome he is just the most wonderful."
"Yes,on Sunday,when I amwell bound in my newclothes,"said Herr Hof.
"You are wonderful without any binding,"shesaid,and then she tipped her head down as if she real-ized that she had spoken a little too childishly for one ofher age.
"Old love does not rust,"said Herr Hof."An oldhouse on fire burns down to the ground."
"It is as with the phoenix bird,"said MadamHof;"one rises up young again.Here is my paradise.I don'tcare to be anyother place-except for an hour or so atyour mother's and grandmother's."
"And at your sister's,"said Herr Hof.
"No,Angel Hof;that is nolonger a paradise.I musttell you,Peer,they live in small circumstances,and amidbig complications.One doesn't knowwhat he dares sayin that house.One doesn't dare mentionthe word'darky,'for the eldest daughter is engaged toone whohas some Negro blood in him.One doesn't daresay'hunchback,'for that one of the children is.Onedoesn't dare talk about 'deficit'-my brother-in-lawhas heen involved in such a mishap.One doesn't evendare say that he has been driving in the wood;wood hasan ugly sound,for Wood was the nameof the fellow whobroke his engagement with the youngest daughter.Idon't like to go out and sit and keep my mouth shut.Ifl don't dare talk,I want to be in my ownhouse and sitin my fireside corner.Were it not toosinful,as theysay,I wouldgladly ask our Lord to let us live as long asmy fireside corner holds out,for here one grows better.Here is myparadise,and this my Hof has given me."
"She has a gold mill in her mouth," he said.
"And you have gold grains in your beard,"shesaid.
Grind,grind what the bag will hold.
Emilie is as pure as gold!
He said,as she tickled him under the chin.
"He wrote that verse at this very moment!It'sgoodenough to be printed!"
"Yes,and handsomely bound!"hesaid.
That's how these two old folks amused each other.
A year passed before Peer began to study a role atthe theater.He chose Joseph,but he exchanged it fortherole of George Brown in the opera The White Lady.Hequickly learned the words and music,and from Wal-ter Scott's novel,which had furnished thematerial forthe opera,he obtained a clear,full picture of theyoung,spiried officer whovisits his native hills andcomes to his ancestral castle without knowing it;an oldsong awakens recollections of his childhood;luck is withhim,and he wins a castle and awife.
What he read became like something he himself hadlived—achapter of his own life's story.The richly melo-diousmusic was entirely in keeping.A long,long timepassed before the first rehearsals began.The singing masterdid not think that there was any hurry for him tomake hisappearance,but finally the day to start arrived.He was notmerely a singer;he was an actor,and his whole personalitywas thrown into the role.The chorus and the orchestra ap-plauded himloudly at the outset,and the opening nightwas lookedforward to with the greatest expectation.
"One can be a great actor in a dressing gown athome"said a good-natured companion,"can be very greatbydaylight,but only so-so beforethe footlights in a packedhouse.Time,will tell."
Peer had no fear,but had a burning desire fortheeventful evening.The singing master,on the contrary,wasextremely nervous.Peer's mother had not the courage to goto the theater;she would be ill with fear for her dear boy.Grandmotherwas sick and must stay at home,the doctorhad said;but the faithful friend,Madam Hof,promised tobring news the very same evening of how it all went.Sheshould and would be at the theater,evenif she were dy-ing.
How long that evening was!How the three or fourhoursstretched into eternity!Grandmother sang a psalmandprayed with Mother to the good God for their littlePeer,that he might this evening also be Lucky Peer.Thehands of the clock moved slowly.
"Now Peer is beginning,"they said."Now he is inthe middle.Now he hasfinished."The mother and grand-mother looked at each other,but they didn'tsay anotherword.
In the streets there was the rumbling of carriages;peoplewere driving home from the theater.The two womenlookeddown from the window;the people who were passingtalkedin loud voices;they had come from the theater;what they knew would bring either gladness or sadness upinto thegarret of the merchant's house.
At last someone came up the stairs.Madam Hof burstin,followed by her husband.She flung herselfabout theneck of the mother and grandmother,but didn'tsay aword.She wept and sobbed.
"Lord God"said Mother and Grandmother."Howdideverything go for Peer?"
"Let me weep!"said Madam Hof,who was so moved,so overcome."I cannot bear it.Ah,you dearpeople,you cannot bear it,either!"And her tearsstreamed down.
"Have they hissed him off?"cried Mother.
"No,not that!"saidMadam Hof."They have-oh,thatI should live to see it!"
Then both Mother and Grandmother wept.
"Be calm,Emilie,"saidHerr Hof."Peer has con-quered!He has triumphed!They clapped so muchthatthe house nearly tumbled down!I can still feel itin myhands.It was one storm of applause from the firstrow tothe gallery.The entire royal family clapped,too.Really,It waswhat one may call a red-letter day in the annals ofthetheater.It was more than talent-it was genius."
"Yes, genius!"saidMadam Hof;"those are mywords.God bless you,Hof,becauseyou said them forme!You good people,never would I have believed thatone could both sing and act likethat,though I have livedthrough a theater's wholehistory."She cried again;Motherand Grandmother laughed,while tears still randown theircheeks.
"Now sleep well on that,"said Herr Hof."Comealong,Emilie.Cood night,good night!"
They left the garret room and two happy peoplethere.Thesetwo were not alone long.The door opened,and Peer,who hadn't promised to come beforethe nextforenoon,stood in the room.He well knew how the oldpeople had followed him in their thoughts,how ignorant,too,theystill must be of his success,and when drivingby thehouse with the singing master,he had stopped out-side;with the light still burning up in thegarret,he hadfelt he must go to them.
"Splendid,glorious,superb!All went well!"heexclaimed jubilantly,and kissed his mother and hisgrandmother.Thesinging master nodded with a beamingface and pressed their hands.
"And now he must go home and have some rest,"hesaid.And the late visit was over.
"Our Father in heaven,how gracious and good Youare!"said these two poor women.They talkedfar into thenight about Peer.Everywhere in the greatcity peopletalked about him-the young,handsome,wonderful singer.Lucky Peer had gone that far.
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