Delphi Collected Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe \(Illustrated\) pdfdrive com

CHAPTER XII.

The  curtain  fell,  and  rapturous  applauses  sounded  out  of  every  corner  of  the

house.  The  four  princely  corpses  sprang  aloft,  and  embraced  each  other.

Polonius  and  Ophelia  likewise  issued  from  their  graves,  and  listened  with

extreme satisfaction, as Horatio, who had stepped before the curtain to announce

the following play, was welcomed with the most thundering plaudits. The people

would  not  hear  of  any  other  play,  but  violently  required  the  repetition  of  the

present.

“We have won,” cried Serlo, “and so not another reasonable word this night!

Every  thing  depends  on  the  first  impression:  we  should  never  take  it  ill  of  any

actor,  that,  on  occasion  of  his  first  appearance,  he  is  provident,  and  even  self-

willed.”

The box-keeper came, and delivered him a heavy sum. “We have made a good

beginning,” cried the manager, “and prejudice itself will now be on our side. But

where is the supper you promised us? To-night we may be allowed to relish it a

little.”

It  had  been  agreed  that  all  the  party  were  to  stay  together  in  their  stage-

dresses, and enjoy a little feast among themselves. Wilhelm had engaged to have

the place in readiness, and Frau Melina to provide the victuals.

A  room,  which  commonly  was  occupied  by  scene-painters,  had  accordingly

been  polished  up  as  well  as  possible:  our  friends  had  hung  it  round  with  little

decorations, and so decked and trimmed it, that it looked half like a garden, half

like a colonnade. On entering it, the company were dazzled with the glitter of a

multitude  of  lights,  which,  across  the  vapors  of  the  sweetest  and  most  copious

perfumes,  spread  a  stately  splendor  over  a  well-decorated  and  well-furnished

table.  These  preparations  were  hailed  with  joyful  interjections  by  the  party;  all

took  their  places  with  a  certain  genuine  dignity;  it  seemed  as  if  some  royal

family  had  met  together  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Shades.  Wilhelm  sat  between

Aurelia  and  the  Frau  Melina;  Serlo  between  Philina  and  Elmira;  nobody  was

discontented with himself or with his place.

Our two theatric amateurs, who had from the first been present, now increased

the  pleasure  of  the  meeting.  While  the  exhibition  was  proceeding,  they  had

several  times  stepped  round,  and  come  upon  the  stage,  expressing,  in  the

warmest  terms,  the  delight  which  they  and  the  audience  felt.  They  now

descended to particulars, and each was richly rewarded for his efforts.

With boundless animation, the company extolled man after man, and passage

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after passage. To the prompter, who had modestly sat down at the bottom of the

table, they gave a liberal commendation for his “rugged Pyrrhus;” the fencing of

Hamlet  and  Laertes  was  beyond  all  praise;  Ophelia’s  mourning  had  been

inexpressibly exalted and affecting; of Polonius they would not trust themselves

to speak.

Every  individual  present  heard  himself  commended  through  the  rest  and  by

them, nor was the absent Ghost defrauded of his share of praise and admiration.

He had played the part, it was asserted, with a very happy voice, and in a lofty

style;  but  what  surprised  them  most,  was  the  information  which  he  seemed  to

have  about  their  own  affairs.  He  entirely  resembled  the  painted  figure,  as  if  he

had sat to the painter of it; and the two amateurs described, in glowing language,

how  awful  it  had  looked  when  the  spirit  entered  near  the  picture,  and  stepped

across  before  his  own  image.  Truth  and  error,  they  declared,  had  been

commingled in the strangest manner: they had felt as if the Queen really did not

see  the  Ghost.  And  Frau  Melina  was  especially  commended,  because  on  this

occasion  she  had  gazed  upwards  at  the  picture,  while  Hamlet  was  pointing

downwards at the Spectre.

Inquiry  was  now  made  how  the  apparition  could  have  entered.  The  stage-

manager reported that a back-door, usually blocked up by decorations, had that

evening, as the Gothic hall was occupied, been opened; that two large figures in

white cloaks and hoods, one of whom was not to be distinguished from the other,

had entered by this passage; and by the same, it was likely, they had issued when

the third act was over.

Serlo  praised  the  Ghost  for  one  merit,    —    that  he  had  not  whined  and

lamented like a tailor; nay, to animate his son, had even introduced a passage at

the end, which more beseemed such a hero. Wilhelm had kept it in memory: he

promised to insert it in his manuscript.

Amid  the  pleasures  of  the  entertainment,  it  had  not  been  noticed  that  the

children and the harper were absent. Erelong they made their entrance, and were

blithely  welcomed  by  the  company.  They  came  in  together,  very  strangely

decked: Felix was beating a triangle, Mignon a tambourine; the old man had his

large harp hung round his neck, and was playing on it whilst he carried it before

him.  They  marched  round  and  round  the  table,  and  sang  a  multitude  of  songs.

Eatables were handed them; and the guests seemed to think they could not do a

greater kindness to the children, than by giving them as much sweet wine as they

chose  to  have.  For  the  company  themselves  had  not  by  any  means  neglected  a

stock  of  savory  flasks,  presented  by  the  two  amateurs,  which  had  arrived  that

evening in baskets. The children tripped about, and sang: Mignon, in particular,

was  frolicsome  beyond  all  wont.  She  beat  the  tambourine  with  the  greatest

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liveliness  and  grace:  now,  with  her  finger  pressed  against  the  parchment,  she

hummed  across  it  swiftly  to  and  fro;  now  rattled  on  it  with  her  knuckles,  now

with the back of her hand; nay, sometimes, with alternating rhythm, she struck it

first against her knee and then against her head; and anon twirling it in her hand,

she made the shells jingle by themselves; and thus, from the simplest instrument,

elicited a great variety of tones. After she and Felix had long rioted about, they

sat  down  upon  an  elbow-chair  which  was  standing  empty  at  the  table,  exactly

opposite to Wilhelm.

“Keep out of the chair!” cried Serlo: “it is waiting for the Ghost, I think; and,

when he comes, it will be worse for you.”

“I  do  not  fear  him,”  answered  Mignon:  “if  he  come,  we  can  rise.  He  is  my

uncle, and will not harm me.” To those who did not know that her reputed father

had been named the Great Devil, this speech was unintelligible.

The party looked at one another: they were more and more confirmed in their

suspicion  that  the  manager  was  in  the  secret  of  the  Ghost.  They  talked  and

tippled, and the girls from time to time cast timid glances towards the door.

The children, who, sitting in the big chair, looked from over the table but like

puppets  in  their  box,  did  actually  at  length  start  a  little  drama  in  the  style  of

Punch.  The  screeching  tone  of  these  people  Mignon  imitated  very  well;  and

Felix and she began to knock their heads together, and against the edges of the

table,  in  such  a  way  as  only  wooden  puppets  could  endure.  Mignon,  in

particular, grew frantic with gayety: the company, much as they had laughed at

her at first, were in fine obliged to curb her. But persuasion was of small avail;

for she now sprang up, and raved, and shook her tambourine, and capered round

the  table.  With  her  hair  flying  out  behind  her,  with  her  head  thrown  back,  and

her  limbs,  as  it  were,  cast  into  the  air,  she  seemed  like  one  of  those  antique

Mænads,  whose  wild  and  all  but  impossible  positions  still,  on  classic

monuments, often strike us with amazement.

Incited  by  the  talents  and  the  uproar  of  the  children,  each  endeavored  to

contribute  something  to  the  entertainment  of  the  night.  The  girls  sung  several

canons; Laertes whistled in the manner of a nightingale; and the Pedant gave a

symphony pianissimo upon the Jew’s-harp. Meanwhile the youths and damsels,

who  sat  near  each  other,  had  begun  a  great  variety  of  games;  in  which,  as  the

hands often crossed and met, some pairs were favored with a transient squeeze,

the emblem of a hopeful kindness. Madam Melina in particular seemed scarcely

to  conceal  a  decided  tenderness  for  Wilhelm.  It  was  late;  and  Aurelia,  perhaps

the only one retaining self-possession in the party, now stood up, and signified

that it was time to go.

By way of termination, Serlo gave a firework, or what resembled one; for he

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could imitate the sound of crackers, rockets, and fire wheels, with his mouth, in a

style  of  nearly  inconceivable  correctness.  You  had  only  to  shut  your  eyes,  and

the deception was complete. In the mean time, they had all risen: the men gave

their  arms  to  the  women  to  escort  them  home.  Wilhelm  was  walking  last  with

Aurelia. The stage-manager met him on the stairs, and said to him, “Here is the

veil our Ghost vanished in; it was hanging fixed to the place where he sank; we

found it this moment.” — “A curious relic!” said our friend, and took it with

him.

At this instant his left arm was laid hold of, and he felt a smart twinge of pain

in it. Mignon had hid herself in the place: she had seized him, and bit his arm.

She rushed past him, down stairs, and disappeared.

On  reaching  the  open  air,  almost  all  of  them  discovered  that  they  had  drunk

too liberally. They glided asunder without taking leave.

The  instant  Wilhelm  gained  his  room,  he  stripped,  and,  extinguishing  his

candle,  hastened  into  bed.  Sleep  was  overpowering  him  without  delay,  when  a

noise, that seemed to issue from behind the stove, aroused him. In the eye of his

heated fancy, the image of the harnessed King was hovering there: he sat up that

he  might  address  the  Spectre;  but  he  felt  himself  encircled  with  soft  arms,  and

his mouth was shut with kisses, which he had not force to push away.

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