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Page 12
"Oh, is that the author's name?" said the Councillor. "It is a very old name,
and, as well as I recollect, he was the first printer that appeared in
Denmark."
"Yes, he is our first printer," replied the clerical gentleman hastily.
So far all went on well. Some one of the worthy burghers now spoke of the
dreadful pestilence that had raged in the country a few years back, meaning
that of 1484. The Councillor imagined it was the cholera that was meant, which
people made so much fuss about; and the discourse passed off satisfactorily
enough. The war of the buccaneers of 1490 was so recent that it could not fail
being alluded to; the English pirates had, they said, most shamefully taken
their ships while in the roadstead; and the Councillor, before whose eyes the
Herostratic* event of 1801 still floated vividly, agreed entirely with the
others in abusing the rascally English. With other topics he was not so
fortunate; every moment brought about some new confusion, and threatened to
become a perfect Babel; for the worthy Bachelor was really too ignorant, and
the simplest observations of the Councillor sounded to him too daring and
phantastical. They looked at one another from the crown of the head to the
soles of the feet; and when matters grew to too high a pitch, then the
Bachelor talked Latin, in the hope of being better understood--but it was of
no use after all.
* Herostratus, or Eratostratus--an Ephesian, who wantonly set fire to the
famous temple of Diana, in order to commemorate his name by so uncommon an
action.
"What's the matter?" asked the Hostess, plucking the Councillor by the sleeve;
and now his recollection returned, for in the course of the conversation he
had entirely forgotten all that had preceded it.
"Merciful God, where am I!" exclaimed he in agony; and while he so thought,
all his ideas and feelings of overpowering dizziness, against which he
struggled with the utmost power of desperation, encompassed him with renewed
force. "Let us drink claret and mead, and Bremen beer," shouted one of the
guests--"and you shall drink with us!"
Two maidens approached. One wore a cap of two staring colors, denoting the
class of persons to which she belonged. They poured out the liquor, and made
the most friendly gesticulations; while a cold perspiration trickled down the
back of the poor Councillor.
"What's to be the end of this! What's to become of me!" groaned he; but he was
forced, in spite of his opposition, to drink with the rest. They took hold of
the worthy man; who, hearing on every side that he was intoxicated, did not in
the least doubt the truth of this certainly not very polite assertion; but on
the contrary, implored the ladies and gentlemen present to procure him a
hackney-coach: they, however, imagined he was talking Russian.
Never before, he thought, had he been in such a coarse and ignorant company;
one might almost fancy the people had turned heathens again. "It is the most
dreadful moment of my life: the whole world is leagued against me!" But
suddenly it occurred to him that he might stoop down under the table, and then
creep unobserved out of the door. He did so; but just as he was going, the
others remarked what he was about; they laid hold of him by the legs; and now,
happily for him, off fell his fatal shoes--and with them the charm was at an
end.
The Councillor saw quite distinctly before him a lantern burning, and behind
this a large handsome house. All seemed to him in proper order as usual; it
was East Street, splendid and elegant as we now see it. He lay with his feet
towards a doorway, and exactly opposite sat the watchman asleep.
"Gracious Heaven!" said he. "Have I lain here in the street and dreamed? Yes;
'tis East Street! How splendid and light it is! But really it is terrible
what an effect that one glass of punch must have had on me!"
Two minutes later, he was sitting in a hackney-coach and driving to
Frederickshafen. He thought of the distress and agony he had endured, and
praised from the very bottom of his heart the happy reality--our own
time--which, with all its deficiencies, is yet much better than that in which,
so much against his inclination, he had lately been.
III. The Watchman's Adventure
"Why, there is a pair of galoshes, as sure as I'm alive!" said the watchman,
awaking from a gentle slumber. "They belong no doubt to the lieutenant who
lives over the way. They lie close to the door."
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