Kabanata Kabanata 4 · A Moment of Head Importance--An Evening's “Dramatic Readings”--A

Most Strange Journey

Every inhabitant of Copenhagen knows, from personal inspection, how

the entrance to Frederick's Hospital looks; but as it is possible that

others, who are not Copenhagen people, may also read this little work,

we will beforehand give a short description of it.

The extensive building is separated from the street by a pretty high

railing, the thick iron bars of which are so far apart, that in

all seriousness, it is said, some very thin fellow had of a night

occasionally squeezed himself through to go and pay his little visits

in the town. The part of the body most difficult to manage on such

occasions was, no doubt, the head; here, as is so often the case in

the world, long-headed people get through best. So much, then, for the

introduction.

One of the young men, whose head, in a physical sense only, might be

said to be of the thickest, had the watch that evening. The rain poured

down in torrents; yet despite these two obstacles, the young man was

obliged to go out, if it were but for a quarter of an hour; and as

to telling the door-keeper about it, that, he thought, was quite

unnecessary, if, with a whole skin, he were able to slip through the

railings. There, on the floor lay the galoshes, which the watchman

had forgotten; he never dreamed for a moment that they were those of

Fortune; and they promised to do him good service in the wet; so he put

them on. The question now was, if he could squeeze himself through the

grating, for he had never tried before. Well, there he stood.

“Would to Heaven I had got my head through!” said he, involuntarily; and

instantly through it slipped, easily and without pain, notwithstanding

it was pretty large and thick. But now the rest of the body was to be

got through!

“Ah! I am much too stout,” groaned he aloud, while fixed as in a vice.

“I had thought the head was the most difficult part of the matter--oh!

oh! I really cannot squeeze myself through!”

He now wanted to pull his over-hasty head back again, but he could not.

For his neck there was room enough, but for nothing more. His first

feeling was of anger; his next that his temper fell to zero. The

Shoes of Fortune had placed him in the most dreadful situation; and,

unfortunately, it never occurred to him to wish himself free. The

pitch-black clouds poured down their contents in still heavier torrents;

not a creature was to be seen in the streets. To reach up to the bell

was what he did not like; to cry aloud for help would have availed him

little; besides, how ashamed would he have been to be found caught in a

trap, like an outwitted fox! How was he to twist himself through! He saw

clearly that it was his irrevocable destiny to remain a prisoner till

dawn, or, perhaps, even late in the morning; then the smith must be

fetched to file away the bars; but all that would not be done so quickly

as he could think about it. The whole Charity School, just opposite,

would be in motion; all the new booths, with their not very

courtier-like swarm of seamen, would join them out of curiosity, and

would greet him with a wild “hurrah!” while he was standing in his

pillory: there would be a mob, a hissing, and rejoicing, and jeering,

ten times worse than in the rows about the Jews some years ago--“Oh, my

blood is mounting to my brain; 'tis enough to drive one mad! I shall go

wild! I know not what to do. Oh! were I but loose; my dizziness would

then cease; oh, were my head but loose!”

You see he ought to have said that sooner; for the moment he expressed

the wish his head was free; and cured of all his paroxysms of love, he

hastened off to his room, where the pains consequent on the fright the

Shoes had prepared for him, did not so soon take their leave.

But you must not think that the affair is over now; it grows much worse.

The night passed, the next day also; but nobody came to fetch the Shoes.

In the evening “Dramatic Readings” were to be given at the little

theatre in King Street. The house was filled to suffocation; and among

other pieces to be recited was a new poem by H. C. Andersen, called, My

Aunt's Spectacles; the contents of which were pretty nearly as follows:

“A certain person had an aunt, who boasted of particular skill in

fortune-telling with cards, and who was constantly being stormed by

persons that wanted to have a peep into futurity. But she was full of

mystery about her art, in which a certain pair of magic spectacles

did her essential service. Her nephew, a merry boy, who was his aunt's

darling, begged so long for these spectacles, that, at last, she lent

him the treasure, after having informed him, with many exhortations,

that in order to execute the interesting trick, he need only repair to

some place where a great many persons were assembled; and then, from a

higher position, whence he could overlook the crowd, pass the company in

review before him through his spectacles. Immediately 'the inner man' of

each individual would be displayed before him, like a game of cards, in

which he unerringly might read what the future of every person presented

was to be. Well pleased the little magician hastened away to prove the

powers of the spectacles in the theatre; no place seeming to him more

fitted for such a trial. He begged permission of the worthy audience,

and set his spectacles on his nose. A motley phantasmagoria presents

itself before him, which he describes in a few satirical touches, yet

without expressing his opinion openly: he tells the people enough to set

them all thinking and guessing; but in order to hurt nobody, he wraps

his witty oracular judgments in a transparent veil, or rather in a lurid

thundercloud, shooting forth bright sparks of wit, that they may fall in

the powder-magazine of the expectant audience.”

The humorous poem was admirably recited, and the speaker much applauded.

Among the audience was the young man of the hospital, who seemed to have

forgotten his adventure of the preceding night. He had on the Shoes; for

as yet no lawful owner had appeared to claim them; and besides it was so

very dirty out-of-doors, they were just the thing for him, he thought.

The beginning of the poem he praised with great generosity: he even

found the idea original and effective. But that the end of it, like the

Rhine, was very insignificant, proved, in his opinion, the author's

want of invention; he was without genius, etc. This was an excellent

opportunity to have said something clever.

Meanwhile he was haunted by the idea--he should like to possess such a

pair of spectacles himself; then, perhaps, by using them circumspectly,

one would be able to look into people's hearts, which, he thought, would

be far more interesting than merely to see what was to happen next year;

for that we should all know in proper time, but the other never.

“I can now,” said he to himself, “fancy the whole row of ladies and

gentlemen sitting there in the front row; if one could but see into

their hearts--yes, that would be a revelation--a sort of bazar. In that

lady yonder, so strangely dressed, I should find for certain a large

milliner's shop; in that one the shop is empty, but it wants cleaning

plain enough. But there would also be some good stately shops among

them. Alas!” sighed he, “I know one in which all is stately; but there

sits already a spruce young shopman, which is the only thing that's

amiss in the whole shop. All would be splendidly decked out, and we

should hear, 'Walk in, gentlemen, pray walk in; here you will find all

you please to want.' Ah! I wish to Heaven I could walk in and take a

trip right through the hearts of those present!”

And behold! to the Shoes of Fortune this was the cue; the whole man

shrunk together and a most uncommon journey through the hearts of the

front row of spectators, now began. The first heart through which he

came, was that of a middle-aged lady, but he instantly fancied himself

in the room of the “Institution for the cure of the crooked and

deformed,” where casts of mis-shapen limbs are displayed in naked

reality on the wall. Yet there was this difference, in the institution

the casts were taken at the entry of the patient; but here they were

retained and guarded in the heart while the sound persons went away.

They were, namely, casts of female friends, whose bodily or mental

deformities were here most faithfully preserved.

With the snake-like writhings of an idea he glided into another female

heart; but this seemed to him like a large holy fane. [*] The white dove of

innocence fluttered over the altar. How gladly would he have sunk upon

his knees; but he must away to the next heart; yet he still heard the

pealing tones of the organ, and he himself seemed to have become a newer

and a better man; he felt unworthy to tread the neighboring sanctuary

which a poor garret, with a sick bed-rid mother, revealed. But God's

warm sun streamed through the open window; lovely roses nodded from

the wooden flower-boxes on the roof, and two sky-blue birds sang

rejoicingly, while the sick mother implored God's richest blessings on

her pious daughter.

* temple

He now crept on hands and feet through a butcher's shop; at least on

every side, and above and below, there was nought but flesh. It was the

heart of a most respectable rich man, whose name is certain to be found

in the Directory.

He was now in the heart of the wife of this worthy gentleman. It was an

old, dilapidated, mouldering dovecot. The husband's portrait was used as

a weather-cock, which was connected in some way or other with the doors,

and so they opened and shut of their own accord, whenever the stern old

husband turned round.

Hereupon he wandered into a boudoir formed entirely of mirrors, like

the one in Castle Rosenburg; but here the glasses magnified to an

astonishing degree. On the floor, in the middle of the room, sat, like a

Dalai-Lama, the insignificant “Self” of the person, quite confounded at

his own greatness. He then imagined he had got into a needle-case full

of pointed needles of every size.

“This is certainly the heart of an old maid,” thought he. But he was

mistaken. It was the heart of a young military man; a man, as people

said, of talent and feeling.

In the greatest perplexity, he now came out of the last heart in the

row; he was unable to put his thoughts in order, and fancied that his

too lively imagination had run away with him.

“Good Heavens!” sighed he. “I have surely a disposition to madness--'tis

dreadfully hot here; my blood boils in my veins and my head is burning

like a coal.” And he now remembered the important event of the evening

before, how his head had got jammed in between the iron railings of the

hospital. “That's what it is, no doubt,” said he. “I must do something

in time: under such circumstances a Russian bath might do me good. I

only wish I were already on the upper bank.” [*]

*In these Russian (vapor) baths the person extends himself

on a bank or form, and as he gets accustomed to the heat,

moves to another higher up towards the ceiling, where, of

course, the vapor is warmest. In this manner he ascends

gradually to the highest.

And so there he lay on the uppermost bank in the vapor-bath; but with

all his clothes on, in his boots and galoshes, while the hot drops fell

scalding from the ceiling on his face.

“Holloa!” cried he, leaping down. The bathing attendant, on his side,

uttered a loud cry of astonishment when he beheld in the bath, a man

completely dressed.

The other, however, retained sufficient presence of mind to whisper to

him, “'Tis a bet, and I have won it!” But the first thing he did as soon

as he got home, was to have a large blister put on his chest and back to

draw out his madness.

The next morning he had a sore chest and a bleeding back; and, excepting

the fright, that was all that he had gained by the Shoes of Fortune.