“It’s dark now,” said Vrenchen, “and we must part.”
“Do you think I will leave you here alone?” cried Sali. “No, never!”
“But it will be no easier when tomorrow comes.”
“Let me give you a piece of advice, you young simpletons!” came a harsh voice from behind them – and the Fiddler stepped out of the shadows.
“There you stand,” he went on, “wanting to be united but not knowing which way to turn. My advice is, take each other as you are and have done with it. Come into the mountains with me and my friends. You won’t need a parson there, or money, or a licence, or honour, or a marriage bed – nothing but your own desires. Things are not at all bad where we live: the air is healthy, and there is plenty to eat if you are prepared to work. The green woods are our home, and there we live and love as we please; and in winter we either make ourselves a warm resting place or hide in the farmer’s hay loft. So make up your minds! Call this your wedding day and come with us, then you’ll be rid of all your troubles! You can live happily ever after – or anyway for as long as you have a mind to. People reach a ripe old age in the freedom which we enjoy, believe me! – And don’t think,” he continued, “that I bear you any ill-will for what your parents did to me. I won’t deny that it gives me a certain satisfaction to see that you have come to this pass, but I am content to leave it at that. You are welcome to join us. And if you decide to do so, I will do my best to help you.”
His manner became friendlier as he said this.
“Well, think it over for a while,” he concluded, “but if you take my advice, you’ll come along with us. Forget the world, be married and turn your back on the others! Think of the bridal chamber waiting for you in the depths of the forest – or in a haystack, if it’s too cold!”
He went into the inn. Holding the trembling Vrenchen in his arms, Sali said:
“What shall we do? Why not let the world go its way, and love each other fully and freely?”
But he said it more as a despairing jest than in earnest, and Vrenchen, kissing him, replied with a childlike simplicity:
“No, that is not the way I want things to be. The young horn player and the girl in the silk dress took that way out, they say, and were deeply in love; last week she was unfaithful to him for the first time, but he could not get over it, and now he is sullen and refuses to speak either to her or to anyone else, and the others all laugh at him. As a form of mock penance she dances by herself and will not talk, thus ridiculing him still further. You can see from the poor boy’s face that he will make it up with her before the day is out, but I do not want to live where things like this go on. I would give anything to call you mine, and I could not bear the thought of being unfaithful to you.”
Her body quivered as she pressed herself against him. Ever since leaving the inn that afternoon, where the landlady had taken her for a young bride, the thought of nuptial bliss had burned within her, and the further the realization of this bliss receded, the more uncontrollable her desire became.
Sali, too, felt this desperate longing, for although he had no wish to follow the Fiddler’s invitation, it had set his mind in a whirl. In a choking voice he said:
“Let’s go inside and have something to eat and drink.”
They entered the parlour, where the only people left were the party of vagabonds, who were seated round a table, eating their humble repast.
“Here come the bride and groom!” cried the Fiddler. “Rejoice, young people, and plight your troth to each other!”
They allowed themselves to be led to the table, happy of a chance to be able to escape from themselves for a moment. Sali ordered wine and more food to be brought, and a merry party commenced. The sulky young horn player had made his peace with his unfaithful partner and was fondling her passionately; the other pair of lovers, too, sang and drank and caressed each other lovingly, while the Fiddler and the hunchback played away to their hearts’ content.
Sali and Vrenchen sat there without speaking, clasped in each other’s arms. Then suddenly the Fiddler called for order and performed a mock ceremony which was meant to represent a wedding. He made them take each other’s hands, then bade the assembled company rise and come up one by one to congratulate the young couple and welcome them to the fraternity. They submitted in silence, taking it as a jest, but at the same time trembling in apprehension.
Roused by the strong wine, the little gathering became more and more excited and made more and more noise, until at last the Fiddler gave the order to depart.
“We have a long journey before us,” he cried, “and it is already past midnight. Come! Let us escort the bride and bridegroom on their road! I will lead the way myself and set the pace!”
Their minds in a whirl, the poor young lovers did not know which way to turn, and helplessly allowed themselves to be put at the head of the procession. Behind them came the other two couples, and the hunchback brought up the rear, his instrument over his shoulder.
The Fiddler started off down the hillside, playing his violin like one possessed, and the others skipped along behind him, laughing and singing. On they went through the night, past silent fields and meadows and into Sali’s and Vrenchen’s own village, where all had long been steeping.
As they made their way through the quiet streets and past their homes, they were gripped by a feeling of wild abandon and danced along madly behind the Fiddler, kissing each other, laughing and weeping. They danced their way up the ridge where the three fields had lain, and when they reached the top, the Fiddler played in an even greater frenzy, leaping about like a demon and daring his companions to vie with him in his revelry. Even the hunchback joined in, groaning under the weight of his burden, and the whole hillside echoed as though with the noise of the Witches’ Sabbath.
Holding Vrenchen tightly in his arms, Sali, who was the first to regain his senses, forced her to stand still; then, to stop her wild singing, he kissed her firmly on the lips. They stood there in silence, listening as the wedding revellers wended their noisy way across the field and disappeared into the distance along the river bank, without even noticing that the young lovers were no longer with them. The sound of the Fiddler’s violin, the girls’ laughter and the boys’ shouts still rang out for a time into the night, until they too, died away and all was still.
“We have escaped from the others,” said Sali, “but
how can we escape from ourselves? How can we ever live apart?”
Vrenchen could find no answer. She clung to him, her breast heaving.
“Should we not go back to the village?” he said. “Perhaps someone there would take care of you. Then tomorrow you could be on your way again.”
“Without you?”
“You must forget me.”
“That I shall never do! Could you forget me?”
“That is not the point, my sweetheart,” said Sali, stroking her flushed cheeks as she leant against him and tossed her head feverishly from side to side. “It is you I am thinking of. You are young, and things are bound to work out for you, wherever you are.”
“And what about you, you old man?”
“Come!” said Sali impulsively, leading her away. After a few yards they stopped again and embraced each other. The silence of the world was music in their souls; the only sound came from the river flowing softly by.
“How beautiful it is everywhere! Can you hear something that sounds like singing and bells chiming?”
“It’s the water rushing past. There’s no other sound.”
“But there is, listen! It’s all around us!”
“It must be our own blood in our ears.”
They listened for a while to the mysterious sounds, whether imagined or real, which issued from the great stillness around them, or which they confused with the magic effects of the moonlight that seemed to hover above the white autumn mist which covered the ground.
Suddenly Vrenchen remembered something, and searching in the bodice of her dress, she exclaime
d:
“I bought a souvenir that I wanted to give you.”
And taking the simple ring, she placed it on his finger.
Sali took out his own ring, put it on Vrenchen’s hand and said:
“We both had the same thought.”
Holding up her hand in the pale moonlight, Vrenchen examined her ring.
“Oh, how lovely it is!” she cried, smiling. “Now we are really betrothed – you are my husband and I am your wife! Just let’s pretend it’s really true for a minute – just until that wisp of cloud has passed across the moon, or until we have counted up to twelve. Kiss me twelve times.”
Sali’s love was no less strong than Vrenchen’s, but he had never felt that marriage held the inescapable decision between life and death. She, however, saw with passionate intensity either the one or the other possibility, each absolute and unconditional.
But now a new realization dawned on her, and the emotions of a young girl suddenly turned to the fierce desires of a woman. Sali’s embraces became more and more urgent as he held her in his savage grip, covering her with kisses. Vrenchen felt this change in him, and a shudder went through her body, but before the cloud had passed across the face of the moon, she was seized by the same passion. As they caressed each other, their hands came together, and their two rings were joined in an involuntary and symbolic expression of their union.
His heart throbbing, Sali whispered breathlessly:
“There is only one way out for us, Vrenchen. This must be our wedding hour – then we must leave the world behind. Over there is the river – where no one can part us. We shall have given each other our love, whether for a single night or for a lifetime.”
And Vrenchen answered:
“Sali, the same thought has been in my mind hundreds of times – that we should die together and put an end to everything. Promise me that we shall do so!”
“It is all that is left to us,” said Sali, “for nothing but Death can take you from me now!”
Tears of joy came to her eyes. Then jumping up, she ran as lithe as a deer across the field and towards the river. Sali ran after her, for he thought she was trying to escape from him, while Vrenchen, for her part, thought that he wanted to hold her back. On they ran, one behind the other, and Vrenchen laughed like a runaway child. When they reached the river, they stopped and faced each other.
“Are you sad?”
“No, I’m happy.”
Mindless of their sorrows, they descended the bank and ran along by the water’s edge, overtaking the current in their eagerness to find a place to lie. Their one feeling now was of the ecstasy that bound them; the final parting that was to follow seemed but a triviality, and they thought as little about it as a wastrel thinks about the morrow when he has spent his last penny.
“My flowers shall show me the way!” cried Vrenchen. “Look, they are withered already!” And plucking the posy from her breast, she threw it into the water and sang:
“But sweeter than the almond is the love I bear to thee!”
“Stop!” cried Sali suddenly. “Here is your bridal bed!”
They had come to a path that led from the village down to the river. Here there was a landing stage to which a large boat, piled high with hay, was tied up. Feverishly Sali began to untie the mooring ropes. Taking hold of his arm, Vrenchen said with a smile:
“What are you doing? Do you mean to steal the farmers’ hay barge?”
“This is their wedding-gift to us – a floating bridal chamber and a bed such as no bride has ever seen! Besides, they will find their property down by the weir, which is where they would take it in any case, and they will never know what happened. Look, it’s rocking and wants to move out into the stream!”
The boat was lying in fairly deep water a few yards from the bank. Lifting Vrenchen high in the air, Sali carried her through the water towards the boat, but she hugged him so tightly, caressing him and squirming about in his arms like a fish, that he could hardly keep his footing in the strong current. She tried to dip her hands and face in the water, exclaiming:
“Let me touch the cool water too! Do you remember how cold and wet our hands were when we first gave them to each other? We were catching fish then; now we’re going to become fish ourselves – two fine fat ones!”
“Be quiet, you little witch,” said Sali, striving to keep his balance as he carried his struggling sweetheart through the water, “or we’ll be swept away!”
He lifted her on to the boat and pulled himself up after her; then he helped her to climb on to the sweet smelling hay and got up beside her. And as they sat there together, the boat drifted slowly out into the middle of the current and floated gently downstream.
The river wended its way through tall, dark woods which cast their shadow over the water, and through open country; sometimes it glided through peaceful villages, sometimes past lonely cottages. In parts of its course it flowed so slowly that it became like a tranquil lake, and the boat almost stopped; in other parts it surged past craggy rocks and left the sleeping banks quickly behind.
With the glow of dawn a town came into view, its steeples rising above the silver waters. The setting moon cast a shaft of light on to the surface of the water, and the boat drifted down the river along this gold-red path. As it approached the town, two pale figures rose in the chill of the September morning and slipped from the dark hulk into the cold waters below, clasped in each other’s arms.
A short while afterwards the boat struck a bridge and lodged there, undamaged. The bodies were found later below the town, and when their identity had been established, the newspapers reported that a young couple belonging to two impoverished and degenerate families which had been locked in a bitter feud, had drowned themselves in the river after dancing happily the whole afternoon and enjoying themselves at a fair.
It was also assumed that there was a connection between this event and an incident in the same area involving a hay barge which had drifted downstream into the town with no one on board: it appeared that the couple had stolen the boat in order to celebrate their sinful union. And this, the writer added, could only be seen as just one more proof of the growing depravity and immorality of the times.
Notes
p. 3, Bezirksrat: A public body roughly corresponding to a local district council. [Transl.]
p. 10, What he… knows: A phrase taken from Heine. [Transl.]
Table of Contents
Introduction
Chronology
A Village Romeo and Juliet
Notes
A Village Romeo and Juliet Page 8