Part 26 (2/2)
Our clumsy natures cannot make these graceful oscillations from one feeling to another, we stake all on one and lose it, if we are deceived.”
The countess looked earnestly at him.
”You are a stern monitor, Ludwig Gross!” she said, thoughtfully. ”Do you fear that I might play a game with one of you?”
”An unconscious one, Countess--as the waves toy with a drifting boat.”
”Well, that would at least be no cruel one!” replied the lady, smiling.
”_Any_ sport, Countess, would be cruel, which tore one of these calm souls from its quiet haven here and set it adrift rudderless on the high sea of pa.s.sion.” He rose. ”Pardon me--I am taking too much liberty.”
”Not more than my friends.h.i.+p gave you a right to say. You brought your friend to me; you are right to warn me if you imagine I should heedlessly throw the priceless gift away! But, Ludwig Gross”--she took his hand--”do you know that I prize it so highly that I should not consider _myself_ too great a recompense? Do you know that you have just found me in a sore struggle over this problem?”
Ludwig Gross drew back a step as if he could not grasp the full meaning of the words. So momentous did they seem that he turned pale. ”Is it possible?” he stammered.
A tremulous gesture of the hand warned him to say no more. ”I don't know--whether it is possible! But that I could even _think_ of it, will enable you to imagine what value your gift possesses for me. Not a word, I beseech you. Give me time--and trust me. So many marvels have been wrought in me during the past few days, that I give myself up to the impulse of the moment and allow myself to be led by an ever-ruling Providence--I shall be dealt with kindly.”
Ludwig, deeply moved, kissed his companion's hand. ”Countess, the impulse which moves you at this moment must unconsciously thrill every heart in Ammergau--as the sleeping child feels, even in its dreams, when a good fairy approaches its cradle. And it is indeed so; for, in you conscious culture approaches unconscious nature--it is a sublime moment, when the highest culture, like the fairy beside the cradle, listens to the breathing of humanity, where completion approaches the source of being, and drinks from it fresh vigor.”
”Yes,” cried the countess, enthusiastically: ”That is it. You understand me perfectly. All civilization must gain new strength from the fountain of nature or its sources of life would become dry--for they perpetually derive their nourishment from that inexhaustible maternal bosom. Where this is not accomplished in individual lives, the primeval element, thus disowned, avenges itself in great social revolutions, catastrophes which form epochs in the history of the world. It is only a pity that in such phases of violent renewal the labor of whole epochs of civilization is lost. Therefore souls in harmony with their age must try to reconcile peacefully what, taken collectively, a.s.sumes the proportions of contrasts destructive to the universe.”
”And where could we find this reconciliation, save in love?” cried Ludwig, enthusiastically.
”You express it exactly: that is the perception toward which minds are more and more impelled, and whose outlines in art and science appear more and more distinctly. That is the secret of the influence of Parsifal, which extends far beyond the domain of art and, in another province, the success of the Pa.s.sion Play! To one it revealed itself under one guise, to another under another. To me it was here that the very source of love appeared. And as you, who revealed it to me, are pervaded by the great lesson--I will test it first upon you. Brother!
Friend! I will aid you in every strait and calamity, and you shall see that I exercise love, not only in words, but that the power working within me will accomplish deeds also.” She clasped her hands imploringly: ”And if I love one of you _more_ than the others, do not blame me. The nearer to the focus of light, the stronger the heat! He, that one, is surely the focus of the great light which, emanating from you, illumines the whole world. I am so near him--could I remain cold?”
”Ah, Countess--now I will cast aside all fears for my friend. In Heaven's name, take him. Even if he consumes under your thrall--pain, too, is G.o.dlike, and to suffer for _you_ is a grand, a lofty destiny, a thousand-fold fairer and better than the dull repose of an every day happiness.”
”Good heavens, when have I ever heard such language!” exclaimed the countess, gazing admiringly at the modest little man, whose cheeks were glowing with the flush of the loftiest feeling. He stood before her in his plain working clothes, his clear-cut profile uplifted, his eyes raised with a searching gaze as if pursuing the vanis.h.i.+ng traces of a lofty, unattainable goal.
She rose: ”There is not a day, not an hour here, which does not bring me something grand. Woe befall me if I do not show myself worthy of the obligation your friends.h.i.+p imposes, I should be more guilty than those to whom the summons of the ideal has never come; who have never stood face to face with men like you.”
Ludwig quietly held out his hand and clasped hers closely in her own.
The piercing glance of his artist-eye seemed to read the inmost depths of her soul.
After a long pause Madeleine von Wildenau interrupted the silence: ”There stands your sister in great concern over my bodily welfare! Well then, let us remember that we are human--unfortunately! Will you breakfast with me?”
”I thank you, I have already breakfasted,” said Ludwig, modestly, motioning to Sephi to be ready.
”Then at least bear me company.” Taking his arm, she went with him to the arbor covered with a wild grape-vine where the table was spread.
She sat down to the simple meal, while her companion served her with so much tact and grace that she could not help thinking involuntarily; ”And these are peasants? What ought we aristocrats to be?” Then, as if in mockery of this reflection, a man in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves with his jacket flung over his arm and a scythe in his hand pa.s.sed down the street by the fence. ”Freyer!” exclaimed the countess, her face aflame: ”The Messiah with a scythe?”
Freyer stopped. ”You called me, Countess?”
”Where are you going with that implement, Herr Freyer?” she asked, coldly, in evident embarra.s.sment.
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