Book Read Free

Copenhagen Tales

Page 25

by Helen Constantine


  But in the darkness, within the silent house, his eyes

  were wide open. He did not know—and in this place felt

  there could be no way of knowing—whether his madcap

  dash had been a splendid idea, a game of hide-and-seek up

  and down the houses, or more of a flight from deadly

  danger, the Evil One himself out after him. There was no

  one here to tell him whether the next moment he would be

  hailed and hugged by flushed, laughing friends, or if a

  pitiless hand, dreaded in dreams and in reality, would

  suddenly descend upon him. He was alone.

  He was alone, and in all his life he could not remember

  ever having been alone before. The realization of his utter

  isolation slowly but powerfully took hold of him, at first

  making him giddy, but then lifting him up as on the crest

  of a wave. It swelled into an immense and fitting revenge

  over all who until now had confined him. A triumph.

  At last, at last the apotheosis he had been promised!

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  Conversation One Night in Copenhagen n 295

  Passionately he clung to the person he had become in this

  place, here in the dark, a statue of himself, pure as marble,

  all of a piece, invulnerable and imperishable. But after a

  while he began to shiver, until his teeth were chattering in

  his mouth.

  A little higher up, where the staircase ended, a light

  shone out from beneath a door. The narrow beam, which

  moved back and forth and seemed to multiply in strength,

  had to mean something. Slowly he came to the realization

  that just inside, behind the door and in the light, there

  must be someone. But who? There were many hundred

  faces in the dark city around him. There were, he had been

  told, starving people who preyed on others, people who

  murdered and people who gave themselves up to the dark

  arts. Creatures from his boyhood fantasies appeared to

  him, and it was possible, even reasonable, to suppose

  they lived right here, where he had never been. But now

  he became aware of sounds too, behind the door a woman

  was crying, and a young man was comforting her. In a

  trice—with surprising assurance and agility, and manag-

  ing to avoid placing his hand on the greasy banister rail—

  he mounted the last few steps, placed two fingers on the

  door handle, and pressed it down. The door was not

  locked, it opened.

  The room he entered was small, peat-brown in the

  corners since the only illumination came from a tallow-dip

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  296 n Karen Blixen

  on a table, but with a vivid play of colours as far as the light

  could reach. Beside the candle stood a clear pinch-bottle

  and a couple of glasses. Apart from the table and a three

  legged stool next to it, the room contained an old chest, an

  armchair with worn gilding and shabby silk upholstery,

  and a big four-poster bed with faded grey-and-red striped

  cotton hangings. The whole little chamber glowed with the

  heat of a pot-bellied stove against the wall, and the air was

  filled with the good smell of apples baking on top of the

  stove, sizzling and spitting once in a while.

  The hostess in the room, a big flaxen-haired girl,

  heavily powdered and rouged and stark naked under a

  negligée with pink bows, was seated on the three-legged

  stool and rocking it a little to and fro while inspecting a

  white stocking which she had drawn over the outspread

  fingers of her left hand and up her arm. As the door

  opened, she ceased moving and turned a swollen, sulky

  face towards it. A young man in shirt and breeches, with

  buckled shoes and a bare foot thrust inside one of them,

  lay across the bed gazing up at the canopy. Lazily he

  turned his gaze upon the newcomer.

  ‘A pity, my lovely’, he said, ‘it seems we are no longer

  free to discuss the nature of love in privacy. We have a

  visitor—’, he eyed their guest again. ‘And a distinguished

  visitor too—’, he continued slowly, sitting up, ‘a gentle-

  man, a gallant gentleman from the court. A—’ Breaking off

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  Conversation One Night in Copenhagen n 297

  abruptly, he paused a moment, then swung his legs over

  the edge of the bed and stood up.

  ‘We have,’ he exclaimed, ‘a visit from the ruler of all

  faithful Muslims, the great Sultan Orosmane himself! It is

  common knowledge that at times his glorious Majesty will

  don disguise and visit even the humblest dwellings in his

  good city of Solyme in order to get to know his people

  without being recognized. Sire, never could you have

  found anywhere better suited for such investigations

  than right here!’

  The stranger blinked at the light and the faces. Then he

  stiffened and turned pale.

  ‘L’on vient!’ he whispered. Someone is coming!

  ‘Non!’ cried the young man in the one stocking,

  announcing he would allow no mortal soul to cross the

  threshold: ‘Non, jusqu’ici nul mortel ne s’avance!’

  Brushing past his guest he turned the key in the door.

  The faint grating of metal sent a shiver through the youth

  in the cloak. But soon after the certainty of having a locked

  door behind him seemed to lift his spirits. He heaved a

  deep breath.

  ‘O mon Soudane!’ said his host. ‘As you see, Venus and

  Bacchus hold equal sway in our little temple—and though

  it be not the noblest of their grapes that we press here, it is

  at least the pure stuff! That pair are the most honest of all

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  298 n Karen Blixen

  the gods, and in this place we put our trust in them

  entirely. You must do likewise.’

  The newcomer looked around the room. Recognizing

  in what sort of premises he found himself, a faintly lascivi-

  ous little smile flitted across his face.

  ‘Does the gentleman take me for a poltroon, perhaps?’

  he asked, still with a trace of that smile.

  ‘For a poltroon?’ cried his host. ‘Why no! For a senti-

  mental traveller, your lordship. What is it one of my

  beloved masters says? “The man who either disdains or

  fears to walk up a dark entry may be an excellent good

  man, and fit for a hundred things, but he will not do to

  make a good sentimental traveller!” I suspect that you, like

  myself, have before tonight set foot—alas, I suspect, like

  myself, after this night will again set foot—inside many a

  dark and unknown entry! Moreover I suspect that you and

  I will tonight make a true sentimental journey together!’

  A brief silence descended on the room. The girl, who

  still sat with the stocking on her fingers, glanced from one

  young man to the other.

  ‘What are your names, you two?’ asked the guest.

  ‘Ah yes, of course,’ answered his host. ‘Forgive me that

  contrary to all good manners I failed at o
nce to introduce

  your humble vassals, so close to heaven. Even though

  you elect to remain incognito, it would plainly be most

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  Conversation One Night in Copenhagen n 299

  improper for us to withhold anything of our true nature

  and condition from you.’

  The host had reached more or less the same stage of

  intoxication as his visitor. It made him somewhat unsteady

  on his feet, and to some extent appeared also to encumber

  his tongue, for he lisped a little. But at the same time it lent

  wings to his speech and opened up his soul to powerful

  and generous impulses. He bestowed an open, bright, and

  loving gaze upon their visitor, and perceiving that still

  more time and palaver were needed before the fugitive

  would feel completely at home in the room and with the

  company, he continued:

  ‘The name of our charming hostess’, he said, ‘is Lise.

  I have called her Fleur-de-Lys after that deeply enchanting

  heroine of a novel whom she resembles. But vulgar folk in

  this neighbourhood, by altering a letter in her name, have

  given it a bad odour. I mention all this purely en passant,

  and as a matter of no consequence, for my friend may in

  fact be called by whatsoever pet name her worshippers

  may care to choose, and thus in her person represent the

  entire sex. As my aforementioned master has said, “That

  man who has not a sort of affection for the whole sex is

  incapable of loving a single one as he ought.” Lise is thus,

  as I have but now had the honour of explaining to you, her

  sex incarnate!’

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  300 n Karen Blixen

  ‘And I?’ he continued, ‘I flatter myself you will already

  have perceived I am a gentleman. Beyond that I am, sauf

  votre respect, a poet—which is to say a fool. My name? As a

  poet I have, God forgive the Danish public, no name as yet.

  But in my capacity of fool I may, like the master whom

  I have already twice cited, take the liberty of calling myself

  Yorick. “Alas, poor Yorick! A fellow of infinite jest, of most

  excellent fancy! And now—in this place and in this state!

  How abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises

  at it. To what base uses”—my friend and brother—“we

  may return!” ’ He stood for a moment lost in thought.

  ‘Return!’ he repeated to himself, then bitterly exclaimed:

  ‘ “You came to see my father’s funeral, and instead I think

  it was to see my mother’s wedding!” ’

  He collected himself quickly, and shook off his morose

  mood.

  ‘And now’, he said, ‘now, Sire, be assured you are quite

  safe with us, as safe as in heaven, or the grave! For who,

  anywhere on this earth, would be less likely to betray a

  King par la grȃce de Dieu than—by His same grace—a

  poet? And by His same grace again, a . . . but Lise abhors

  the word, so I shall not pronounce it.’

  Again he fell silent a while, but remaining alert, obser-

  vant, his entire being absorbed in the present moment, and

  finally took a step forward. Seizing the pinch bottle, he

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  Conversation One Night in Copenhagen n 301

  filled the glasses, and with a smile extended a ceremonious

  arm to pass one of them to the stranger.

  ‘A toast!’ he cried. ‘A toast to this hour! It is by its very

  nature everlasting, and by that same token therefore non-

  existent. Our door is bolted—hear how it rains!—and no

  one in the whole world knows we are here! And the three

  of us together here are equally favoured in that tomorrow

  we shall have forgotten this hour, and never ever will

  remember it again! Therefore in this hour shall the poor

  speak freely with the rich, the poet conjure up his visions

  for the prince, and even Sultan Orosmane himself—oh, in

  ways that he never could before, and alas, in ways he never

  will again—entrust his lofty and to mere mortals incom-

  prehensible woes to the hearts of two human beings, the

  hearts of a fool and a whore! Thus does this hour become a

  pearl in an oyster shell at the bottom of the dark flood of

  Copenhagen all about us. Vivat!—friend and mistress—

  long live this our stillborn and death-doomed hour!’

  He raised his arm high in the air, emptied his glass and

  stood very still. Obedient as a reflection in a mirror, his

  guest repeated his every movement.

  This last glass, coming on top of all that each had

  downed already that evening, had a powerful and mysteri-

  ous effect. It caused the two small figures to grow, pumped

  a deep and appealing flush into both pale faces, and

  kindled a sparkling light in their two great pairs of eyes.

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  302 n Karen Blixen

  Host and guest beamed at each other and stepped so close

  that for a moment it appeared they were about to wrestle

  or embrace.

  Then it became apparent the guest wished to be

  liberated from his cloak: ‘Ȏtez-moi donc’, he said softly,

  ‘ce manteau qui me pèse.’

  He stood very still, his chin raised and his eyes fixed on

  his host’s face, while the latter fumbled with the clasp and

  finally freed him of the heavy encumbrance. Beneath, the

  stranger wore a pearl-grey silk coat and a waistcoat with

  aquamarine embroidery, the lace at the neck and cuffs was

  torn. The pale costume gave his whole figure the effect of

  something incorporeal and shimmering, as though he

  were a young angel visiting the hot and close little room.

  But as the cloak fell backwards and spread out across the

  back and seat of the armchair its deep-gold velvet lining

  gathered up all the colours in the room, transfiguring them

  into a radiance of pure glowing ore. The young man who

  called himself Yorick watched wide-eyed as the air about

  him turned to gold, and in his delight squeezed his guest’s

  delicate fingers.

  ‘Oh most welcome!’ he cried. ‘Oh long awaited! Our

  lord and master, we are yours! See, we now offer you our

  best chair, and can offer none better. Lise never cares to sit

  in it herself for fear of straining the webbing with her

  charms or wearing out the upholstery. So now it is yours,

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  Conversation One Night in Copenhagen n 303

  if you will deign to leave your imprint on it. Make it this

  night a throne!’

  Under the speaker’s powerful gaze the fugitive’s fea-

  tures trembled for a second, then softened into a serene

  calm. From having not long before searched so fearfully on

  all sides, he became collected, self-possessed, exhilarated

  by one joyous conviction. Yes, he was among friends, such

  as he had read about and had sought but never found, such

  as would know and understand who he truly was. Aided

  by his host’s graciously raised hand,
he allowed himself to

  be guided a step backwards to the chair, and rather

  abruptly sat down in it, without in any way damaging his

  dignity. Bolt upright against the golden velvet, his fine

  hands resting on the arms of the chair as though already

  holding sceptre and orb, he surveyed the room as from a

  great height.

  Yet when he spoke he changed again. His voice in his

  few brief phrases in French had been fluid and melodious.

  When he changed to Danish it was plain he had acquired

  the language through mocking his tutors and plotting

  pranks in the company of pages and stable boys.

  ‘Yes’, he said, ‘yes indeed, Poet! This is what I want.

  I wish to hear my people’s complaints with my own ears.

  Never have I been able to because you are kept from me.

  Tonight I had to run away from the others, through dark

  rooms and up long black staircases to find you, you who

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  304 n Karen Blixen

  are poor and who suffer injustice. Tonight you may come

  to me and speak freely.’

  He stopped, searching for words, and then went on in a

  raised voice:

  ‘ . . . dans ces lieux, sans manquer de respect,

  chacun peut désormais jouir de mon aspect,

  car je vois avec mépris ces maximes terribles,

  qui font de tant de rois des tyrans invisibles! ’*

  ‘Well, come along now,’ he said reverting to Danish.

  ‘Complain away! Are you unhappy?’

  The one who had called himself Yorick pondered a

  while, then laid a hand on his chest and pressed it against

  his collarbone, where his shirt lay open.

  ‘Unhappy?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Tonight of all nights

  we cannot be unhappy. However, neither would we wish

  to appear objects of pity to your eyes. A true-born courtier

  does not insult his king by making himself smaller in his

  presence, as though such were necessary to heighten a

  sovereign’s majesty. No, he straightens his back and

  makes himself as tall as he can, and says to the world:

  “See, what proud men are this master’s servants!” All

  credit to his Catholic Majesty of Spain that he has servants

  * Not without due deference, in this place / henceforth may all safely behold my face, / for I scorn dire maxims where kings have been / in most part portrayed as tyrants unseen.

  OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 28/8/2014, SPi

  Conversation One Night in Copenhagen n 305

 

‹ Prev