“We really know less about each other than if we had never met before,” said Sali. “Time has made us strangers. What has been going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
“Oh, not much! All sorts of pranks occurred to me, but I was so depressed that I never carried them out.”
“You poor darling!” cried Sali. “But you’ve learnt a trick or two by this time, I don’t doubt!”
“If you really love me, you’ll find out.”
“When you are my wife, you mean?”
This last word made her tremble, and she held him tighter, kissing him tenderly again and again. Tears sprang to her eyes, and suddenly they both became sad as they thought of their parents’ feud and of how little the future held for them.
“I must go now,” she said with a sigh.
They got up, and were walking out of the cornfield when they saw Vrechen’s father ahead of them. From the moment he had met Sali in the village he had been brooding suspiciously, with a petty curiosity born of idleness, on what the lad could have been up to. Then he had recalled the incident of the previous day. His malice and lurking hatred set his thoughts in motion, and soon his suspicions assumed definite shape. So although he had already reached the middle of the town, he turned round and trudged back to the village again.
When he reached the house, his daughter was nowhere to be seen. Hastening out on to the field, he caught sight of the basket in which she collected the vegetables; but Vrenchen herself was not in sight, and he was scanning his neighbour’s cornfield for her when the frightened children emerged.
They stood there petrified. At first Marti, too, his face an ashen grey, stood looking at them angrily. Then he broke out in a fury and made to grasp Sali by the throat. The boy evaded him and darted away, but jumped forward again when he saw Marti seize the trembling girl savagely, give her a cuff on the head which sent her red garland flying, and take hold of her hair to drag her away and beat her.
Without thinking, Sali picked up a stone, and half in rage, half in fear of what might happen to Vrenchen, brought it down on Marti’s head. The old man staggered about for a moment, then sank unconscious on to the stones, dragging the screaming Vrenchen with him.
Sali released her hair from his grasp and helped her to her feet, then stood there like a statue, helpless and terrified.
Looking down at the motionless body, Vrenchen shuddered and clutched her pale face with her hands.
“Have you killed him?” she whispered.
Sali nodded dumbly.
“Oh, God! My father! My poor father!” she cried frantically, throwing herself on to his body and raising his head, on which there was no sign of blood.
She let it sink down again. Sali knelt on the other side, and together, in deathly silence, their hands hanging limply and nervelessly at their sides, they stared at the lifeless features. At last Sali broke the silence.
“Perhaps he’s not really dead!”
Vrenchen pulled a petal from a corn poppy and laid it on his pale lips. It stirred a little.
“He’s still breathing!” she cried. “Run to the village for help!”
As Sali jumped up and was about to run off, she stretched out her hand and beckoned him back.
“Don’t come back here,” she said, “and don’t say a word about how it happened. Nobody shall ever make me tell anything either.”
Tears streamed down her face as she looked towards the poor, helpless Sali.
“Kiss me once more!” she cried. “But no! Leave now! It is all over – over for ever! We can never marry!”
She pushed him away, and he ran blindly towards the village. On his way he met a little boy who did not know him. He told him to fetch the people nearest at hand, and described to him in detail where to take them. He then wandered off into the woods and spent the whole night roaming about there distractedly.
When morning came, he ventured out into the fields to see what had happened, and overheard from the conversation of some early passers-by that Marti was alive but unconscious, and that nobody knew, strangely enough, what had happened. On hearing this, Sali returned to the town and took refuge in the gloom and misery of his father’s house.
Vrenchen kept her word. When questioned, she said only that she had found her father lying there in that state; and as he began to move and breathe more freely the next day, it was assumed that he had been drunk and struck his head on the stones, and there the matter ended. Vrenchen nursed him alone, only leaving his side to fetch medicaments from the doctor or to make herself something to eat, such as a plain soup of some kind. She lived on almost nothing, though she was awake day and night, and nobody helped her.
It was nearly six weeks before Marti regained consciousness, though he had already begun to take nourishment again and to show signs of life. But it was not the consciousness that he had known before. For as the power of speech returned to him, it became apparent that he had lost his reason. Only dimly did he recollect the past, and then as something amusing which was no real concern of his. He laughed idiotically and was for ever in high spirits; he lay in bed and poured forth all manner of incoherent thoughts and phrases, made grotesque grimaces, pulled his black woollen cap over his eyes and then down over his face, making his nose look like a coffin enveloped in a shroud.
Pale and anguish-stricken, Vrenchen listened to him patiently, shedding more tears over his present derangement than she had over his former cruelty. But when he did something particularly bizarre, she could not help laughing in spite of her grief, for her natural high spirits, now weighed down, were always ready to spring up again like a taut bow string, only to sink back into an even profounder sense of despair. After he was able to get up, it was impossible to do anything with him at all; he behaved like a child, rummaging around the house and laughing, or sitting in the sun, poking his tongue out and making long speeches to the beans.
It was at this same time that what little remained of his property was finally disposed of, for the neglect and disorder had reached such a pitch that his house and his last field, which had both been mortgaged for some time, were now officially auctioned. The farmer who had bought Manz’s two fields took advantage of Marti’s sorry situation to settle once and for all the old argument over the piece of land with the stones on it. This was the coup de grâce for Marti, but in his deranged state he no longer understood anything of what was going on.
When the sale was over, the poor, demented Marti was sent to a public institution in the capital of the canton. The pitiful creature, who was in good health and always ready to eat, was given a good meal, then put in an ox cart and taken to the town by a poor farmer who was on his way to sell a few sacks of potatoes there. Vrenchen sat in the cart with her father on his ride to this place of living burial.
It was a sad and bitter journey, but Vrenchen watched over her father carefully and attended to his every need; even if his antics attracted attention, and people ran after the cart as it passed through the villages, she did not look about her or become restless. At last they reached the rambling old building in the town. Its courtyards, its bright gardens and its long corridors were full of poor creatures like Marti, all dressed in white smocks and wearing stout leather caps on their bony heads.
Vrenchen watched as he too was put into this uniform. He was as happy as a sandboy, and pranced about and sang.
“Good day to you, gentlemen!” he cried to his new companions. “What a splendid place you have here! Go back, Vreeli, and tell your mother that I shan’t be coming home any more! I like it better here!
I heard a hedgehog barking as he crawled into the fold!
O maiden, give your kisses to the young and not the old!
The Rhine and the Danube flow into the sea;
the dark-eyed maid yonder’s the right one for me!
“Why don’t you go, child? You look a picture of misery, and I am so happy!”
An attendant told him to be quiet and led him away to do some light work, while Vrenchen
went back to the cart. Sitting down in it, she took out a piece of bread and began to eat. Then she fell asleep, and slept until the farmer came to drive back to the village.
It was dark by the time they arrived. Vrenchen went back to the house in which she had been born and in which she had only two more days to live. For the first time in her life she was completely alone. She lit the fire to warm up what was left of the coffee, and sat down by the hearth in utter desolation. She yearned to see Sali just once more, and tormented herself with this thought, but her grief and sadness made her yearning bitter, and this in turn only intensified her misery.
As she was sitting there, her head in her hands, a figure came in through the open door. She looked up.
“Sali!” she cried, throwing her arms round his neck. Then they looked at each other in alarm, and each cried in the same breath:
“But how miserable you look!”
And indeed, the one looked as pale and haggard as the other. Forgetting all that had happened, she drew him close to herself by the hearth and said:
“Have you been ill, or have things been bad with you too?”
“No, I am not ill,” replied Sali. “I am only sick with longing for you. And there are some strange goings-on at home; my father has invited in a lot of suspicious-looking characters, and it looks to me as if he has taken to harbouring thieves. That is why our tavern is so full at the moment – until the whole affair comes to a terrible end. My mother is caught up in it as well, out of a greedy desire to see some money coming in; she thinks that she can put the whole disreputable business on a proper basis by trying to keep some order in the place. I had nothing to do with it, and besides, I just kept thinking of you day and night. All kinds of tramps come to our inn, so we heard every day what was happening in your family, and the news made my father as happy as a child. We were told that your father had been taken to the almshouse today. I knew you must be alone, so I came out to see you.”
Vrenchen poured out all her troubles to him, yet with the ease of someone relating a series of joyful events, for she was so happy to have Sali with her. She even managed to produce a bowl of warm coffee which she made him share with her.
“But what will you do,” said Sali, “if you have to leave this house the day after tomorrow?”
“I don’t know,” replied Vrenchen. “I suppose I shall have to go and work as a maid. I cannot bear to live without you, Sali, but you can never be mine, because it was you who struck the blow that made my father insane. We could never have the peace of mind to build a life on this foundation.”
Sali gave a sigh.
“Many times,” he said, “I was on the point of joining the army or looking for a job as a farmhand in some far-off district, but I cannot leave while you are still here. My unhappiness seems to make my love stronger and more unbearable, and my whole life is torn apart in the struggle.”
Vrenchen smiled lovingly at him. They leant back against the wall, basking in the radiant glow which outshone their sadness and proclaimed their love. And soon, sitting on the hard stones, without pillow or cushion, they slept softly and peacefully, like children in a cradle.
Dawn was already breaking when Sali awoke. Gently he tried to rouse Vrenchen, but she nestled drowsily against him and would not be wakened. Then he kissed her passionately. Opening her eyes, she cried, gazing up at him:
“Oh Sali! I was dreaming of you! I dreamt that we were dressed in our finery and dancing at our wedding, hour after hour, blissfully happy and without a care in the world. We longed to kiss each other but something kept drawing us apart – and now I see that it was you who were disturbing us! O how wonderful that you are here!”
Throwing her arms round him, she kissed him again and again.
“And what did you dream about?” she asked him, stroking his cheek.
“I dreamt that I was walking down a never-ending lane in the forest, and that you were walking ahead of me in the distance; sometimes you looked round and smiled and beckoned me on – that was all. It was the happiest moment of my life!”
As they walked together to the door, they looked at each other and began to laugh, for Vrenchen’s right cheek and Sali’s left, which had lain against each other as they slept, were quite red, while the other two had been made even paler than usual by the coolness of the night air. Gently they rubbed their two cold, pale cheeks together to make them as red as the others. The crisp morning air, the freshness of the dew and the tranquillity of the dawning day made them joyful and oblivious to their cares. Vrenchen in particular seemed filled with a spirit of carefree gaiety.
“Tomorrow evening,” she said, “I shall have to leave this house and find shelter elsewhere. But before then I want to enjoy one real moment of happiness – with you. I want to dance and dance with you in my joy, for I cannot lose the vision of how we danced in my dream.”
“But I want to know where you are going to live,” said Sali. “And I want us to dance as well, my darling. Yet where can we go?”
“Tomorrow there are two fairs not far from here,” answered Vrenchen. “People will not know us there or take much notice of us. I will wait for you by the lake. Then we can go where we want and enjoy ourselves – just for this once! But,” she then added sadly, “we have no money, so it is no use.”
“Leave that to me,” said Sali. “I’ll get some.”
“But not from your father. Not that stolen money!”
“No, no! I still have my silver watch; I’ll sell that.”
“I would not have you change your mind,” said Vrenchen, blushing. “If we could not dance tomorrow, I think I would die!”
“It would be best if we could both die!” murmured Sali.
They parted with a sad embrace, smiling lovingly at each other as they thought of the following day.
“When will you come?” Vrenchen cried after him.
“At eleven o’clock, at the latest!” he called back. “We’ll eat lunch together in style!”
“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed eagerly. “Then come at half-past ten instead!”
He had almost gone when she called him back again, with a look of sudden dejection on her face.
“We cannot go!” she cried through her tears, “I have no Sunday shoes left. I even had to wear these old clogs to go into town yesterday!”
Sali was taken aback.
“No shoes?” he said. “Then you must wear your clogs.”
“But I can’t dance in these!”
“Then we shall have to buy some.”
“But how can we?”
“There are plenty of shoe shops in Seldwyla, and in less than two hours I shall have the money.”
“But we can’t walk around together in Seldwyla. And besides, there won’t be enough money to buy shoes as well.”
“We shall have to make it enough! I will buy the shoes and bring them with me tomorrow.”
“Don’t be silly! They wouldn’t fit!”
“Then give me one of your old ones. No, wait a moment. I have a better idea. I’ll measure your foot – that’s easily done.”
“All right. I’ll find a piece of string.”
She sat down again on the hearth, pulled up her skirt a little and slipped off one of her clogs, uncovering the white stockings she had been wearing since her journey the previous day. Sali knelt down and measured her foot as well as he could, taking its length and breadth, and carefully knotting the string to mark the size.
“Why, you’re almost as good as a shoemaker!” she laughed, blushing and looking down at him affectionately. Sali reddened too and held her foot longer than he need have done. Drawing it away with an even deeper blush, she embraced the embarrassed Sali again, kissed him impulsively and then told him to go.
As soon as he reached the town, he took his watch to a jeweller, who gave him between six and seven florins for it, and a few more for the silver chain. He now felt rich, for never before had he had so much money in his possession. If only today were over and Sunday already
here, he thought to himself, so that he could buy the happiness that he wanted that day to bring; and the sinister shadow of the future only added a strange lustre to the longed-for pleasures of the morrow.
The rest of the day he spent in looking for a pair of shoes for Vrenchen. It was the most delightful task he had ever undertaken. He went from one shop to another asking to see all the ladies’ shoes they had, until he finally decided on a dainty pair far prettier than Vrenchen had ever worn. He hid them under his jacket and did not let go of them for a single moment during the rest of the day. He even took them to bed with him and put them under his pillow.
As he had been with Vrenchen that morning, and knew that he would see her again the next day, he slept soundly and peacefully. When dawn came, he rose happily and began to brush and clean his shabby Sunday clothes as best he could.
His mother, noticing this in surprise, asked him where he was going, for he had not taken such care over his appearance for many a day. Sali replied that he wanted to go out and see something of the world: it would ruin his health to have to stay in the house all the time.
“What sort of life is that,” grumbled his father, “wandering about aimlessly?”
“Let the boy go,” retorted his mother. “It may do him good. Just look what a picture of misery he is!”
“Have you got any money?” asked Manz. “And if so, where did you get it?”
“I don’t need any,” answered Sali.
“Here’s a florin,” said his father, throwing it across to him. “Go and spend it in the inn, so that people don’t think we’re hard up.”
“I’m not going to the village, so you can keep the money!”
“It would be wasted on you anyway, you pig-headed fool!” cried Manz, thrusting the florin back into his pocket.
But Sali’s mother, who did not know why she should feel so despondent and so concerned about her son that morning, gave him a large black neckerchief with a red border which she had hardly ever worn but which the boy had always wanted. He wound it round his neck and let the long ends hang down; then, for the first time in his life, instead of turning his collar down, he turned it right up to his ears like a man of the world. So, shortly after seven o’clock, he set out in manly pride, carrying Vrenchen’s shoes in the inner pocket of his jacket.
A Village Romeo and Juliet Page 5