Part 24

I had the honor of seeing M. Roncali twelve years ago at Paris, and he allows me to hope that I shall have the good fortune to see him again. This is infinitely flattering to me; but I earnestly entreat him to make haste, as my career is far advanced, and what is still worse, I am extremely fatigued. I have undertaken too long and too laborious a work for my age, and I have employed three years on it, always dreading lest I should not have the pleasure of seeing it finished. However, I am still in life, thanks to God, and I flatter myself that I shall see my volumes printed, distributed, and read. If they be not praised, I hope at least they will not be despised. I shall not be accused of vanity or presumption in daring to hope for some share of favor for my Memoirs; for had I thought that I should absolutely displease, I would not have taken so much pains; and if in the good and ill which I say of myself, the balance inclines to the favorable side, I owe more to nature than to study. All the application employed by me in the construction of my pieces has been that of not disfiguring nature, and all the care taken by me in my Memoirs has been that of telling only the truth. The criticism of my pieces may have the correction and improvement of comedy in view; but the criticism of my Memoirs will be of no advantage to literature. However, if any writer should think proper to employ his time on me for the sole purpose of vexing me, he would lose his labor. I am of a pacific disposition; I have always preserved my coolness of character; at my age I read little, and I read only amusing books.

THE CAFE

[A few of the opening scenes from one of the popular Venetian comedies are here given with occasional abridgment. They illustrate the entirely practical theatrical skill of Goldoni's plots, his rapid development of his characters, and the sound morality which prevails without being aggressively prominent.

The permanent scene represents a small open square in Venice, or a rather wide street, with three shops. The middle one is in use as a cafe. To the right is a barber's. The one on the left is a gambling-house. Beyond the barber's, across a street, is seen the dancers' house, and beyond the gamblers' a hotel with practicable doors and windows.]

Ridolfo, _master of the cafe_, Trappolo, _a waiter, and other waiters_

_Ridolfo_--Come, children, look alive, be wide awake, ready to serve the guests civilly and properly.

_Trappolo_--Master dear, to tell you the truth, this early rising doesn't suit my complexion a bit. There's no one in sight. We could have slept another hour yet.

_Ridolfo_--They'll be coming presently. Besides, 'tis not so very early. Don't you see? The barber is open, he's in his shop working on hair. And look! the playing-house is open too.

_Trappolo_--Oh, yes, indeed. The gambling-house has been open a good bit. They've made a night of it.

_Ridolfo_--Good. Master Pandolfo will have had a good profit.

_Trappolo_--That dog always has good profit. He wins on the cards, he profits by usury, he shares with the sharpers. He is sure of all the money of whoever enters there. That poor Signor Eugenio--he has taken a header!

_Ridolfo_--Just look at him, how little sense he has! With a wife, a young woman of grace and sense,--but he runs after every petticoat; and then he plays like a madman. But come, go roast the coffee and make a fresh supply.

_Trappolo_--Shan't I warm over yesterday's supply?

_Ridolfo_--No, make it good.

_Trappolo_--Master has a short memory. How long since this shop opened?

_Ridolfo_--You know very well. 'Tis about eight months.

_Trappolo_--Then 'tis time for a change.

_Ridolfo_--What do you mean by that?

_Trappolo_--When a new shop opens, they make perfect coffee. After six months,--hot water, thin broth. [_Exit._]

_Ridolfo_--He's a wit. I'm in hopes he'll help the shop. To a shop where there's a fun-maker every one goes.

Pandolfo, _keeper of the gambling-house, comes in, rubbing his eyes sleepily_

_Ridolfo_--Master Pandolfo, will you have coffee?

_Pandolfo_--Yes, if you please.

_Ridolfo_--Boys, serve coffee for Master Pandolfo. Be seated. Make yourself comfortable.

_Pandolfo_--No, no, I must drink it at once and get back to work.

_Ridolfo_--Are they playing yet in the shop?

_Pandolfo_--They are busy at two tables.

_Ridolfo_--So early?

_Pandolfo_--They are at it since yesterday.

_Ridolfo_--What game?

_Pandolfo_--An innocent game: "first and second" [_i.e._, faro].

_Ridolfo_--And how does it go?

_Pandolfo_--For me it goes well.

_Ridolfo_--Have you amused yourself playing too?

_Pandolfo_--Yes, I took a little hand also.

_Ridolfo_--Excuse me, my friend; I've no business to meddle in your affairs, but--it doesn't look well when the master of the shop plays; because if he loses he's laughed at, and if he wins he's suspected.

_Pandolfo_--I am content if they haven't the laugh on me. As for the rest, let them suspect as they please; I pay no attention.

_Ridolfo_--Dear friend, we are neighbors; I shouldn't want you to get into trouble. You know, by your play before you have brought up in the court.

_Pandolfo_--I'm easily satisfied. I won a pair of sequins, and wanted no more.

_Ridolfo_--That's right. Pluck the quail without making it cry out. From whom did you win them?

_Pandolfo_--A jeweler's boy.

_Ridolfo_--Bad. Very bad. That tempts the boys to rob their masters.

_Pandolfo_--Oh, don't moralize to me. Let the greenhorns stay at home. I keep open for any one who wants to play.

_Ridolfo_--And has Signor Eugenio been playing this past night?

_Pandolfo_--He's playing yet. He hasn't dined, he hasn't slept, and he's lost all his money.

_Ridolfo_ [_aside_]--Poor young man! [_Aloud._] And how much has he lost?

_Pandolfo_--A hundred sequins in cash: and now he is playing on credit.

_Ridolfo_--With whom is he playing?

_Pandolfo_--With the count.

_Ridolfo_--And whom else?

_Pandolfo_--With him alone.

_Ridolfo_--It seems to me an honest man shouldn't stand by and see people assassinated.

_Pandolfo_--Oho, my friend, if you're going to be so thin-skinned you'll make little money.

_Ridolfo_--I don't care for that. Till now I have been in service, and did my duty honestly. I saved a few pennies, and with the help of my old master, who was Signor Eugenio's father, you know, I have opened this shop. With it I mean to live honorably and not disgrace my profession.

[_People from the gambling-shop call "Cards!"_]

_Pandolfo_ [_answering_]--At your service.

_Ridolfo_--For mercy's sake, get poor Signor Eugenio away from the table.

_Pandolfo_--For all me, he may lose his shirt: I don't care. [_Starts out._]

_Ridolfo_--And the coffee--shall I charge it?

_Pandolfo_--Not at all: we'll deal a card for it.

_Ridolfo_--I'm no greenhorn, my friend.

_Pandolfo_--Oh well, what does it matter? You know my visitors make trade for you. I am surprised that you trouble yourself about these little matters. [_Exit._] ...

_A gentleman,_ Don Marzio, _enters_

_Ridolfo_ [_aside_]--Here is the man who never stops talking, and always must have it his own way.

_Marzio_--Coffee.

_Ridolfo_--At once, sir.

_Marzio_--What's the news, Ridolfo?

_Ridolfo_--I couldn't say, sir.

_Marzio_--Has no one appeared here at your cafe yet?

_Ridolfo_--'Tis quite early still.

_Marzio_--Early? It has struck nine already.

_Ridolfo_--Oh no, honored sir, 'tis not seven yet.

_Marzio_--Get away with your nonsense.

_Ridolfo_--I assure you, it hasn't struck seven yet.

_Marzio_--Get out, stupid.

_Ridolfo_--You abuse me without reason, sir.

_Marzio_--I counted the strokes just now, and I tell you it is nine. Besides, look at my watch: it never goes wrong. [_Shows it._]

_Ridolfo_--Very well, then; if your watch is never wrong,--it says a quarter to seven.

_Marzio_--What? That can't be. [_Takes out his eye-glass and looks._]

_Ridolfo_--What do you say?

_Marzio_--My watch is wrong. It is nine o'olock. I heard it.

_Ridolfo_--Where did you buy that watch?

_Marzio_--I ordered it from London.

_Ridolfo_--They cheated you.

_Marzio_--Cheated me? How so? It is the very first quality.

_Ridolfo_--If it were a good one, it wouldn't be two hours wrong.

_Marzio_--It is always exactly right.

_Ridolfo_--But the watch says a quarter to seven, and you say it is nine.

_Marzio_--My watch is right.

_Ridolfo_--Then it really is a little before seven, as I said.

_Marzio_---You're an insolent fellow. My watch is right: you talk foolishly, and I've half a mind to box your ears. [_His coffee is brought._]

_Ridolfo_ [_aside_]--Oh, what a beast!

_Marzio_--Have you seen Signor Eugenio?

_Ridolfo_--No, honored sir.

_Marzio_--At home, of course, petting his wife. What an uxorious fellow! Always a wife! Always a wife! [_Drinks his coffee._]

_Ridolfo_--Anything but his wife. He's been gambling all night at Pandolfo's.

_Marzio_--Just as I tell you. Always gambling.

_Ridolfo_ [_aside_]--"Always gambling," "Always his wife," "Always" the Devil; I hope he'll catch him!

_Marzio_--He came to me the other day in all secrecy, to beg me to lend him ten sequins on a pair of earrings of his wife's.

_Ridolfo_--Well, you know, every man is liable to have these little difficulties; but they don't care to have them known, and that is doubtless why he came to you, certain that you would tell no one.

_Marzio_--Oh, I say nothing. I help all, and take no credit for it. See! Here are his wife's earrings. I lent him ten sequins on them. Do you think I am secured?

_Ridolfo_--I'm no judge, but I think so.

_Marzio_--Halloa, Trappolo. [_Trappolo enters._] Here; go to the jeweler's yonder, show him these earrings of Signor Eugenio's wife, and ask him for me if they are security for ten sequins that I lent him.

_Trappolo_--And it doesn't harm Signor Eugenio to make his affairs public?

_Marzio_--I am a person with whom a secret is safe. [_Exit Trappolo._] Say, Ridolfo, what do you know of that dancer over there?

_Ridolfo_--I really know nothing about her.

_Marzio_--I've been told the Count Leandro is her protector.

_Ridolfo_--To be frank, I don't care much for other people's affairs.

_Marzio_--But 'tis well to know things, to govern one's self accordingly. She has been under his protection for some time now, and the dancer's earnings have paid the price of the protection. Instead of spending anything, he devours all the poor wretch has. Indeed, he forces her to do what she should not. Oh, what a villain!

_Ridolfo_--But I am here all day, and I can swear that no one goes to her house except Leandro.

_Marzio_--It has a back door. Fool! Fool! Always the back door. Fool!

_Ridolfo_--I attend to my shop: if she has a back door, what is it to me? I put my nose into no one's affairs.

_Marzio_--Beast! Do you speak like that to a gentleman of my station?

[This character of Don Marzio the slanderer is the most effective one in the comedy. He finally brings upon himself the bitterest ill-will of all the other characters, and feels himself driven out of Venice, "a land in which all men live at ease, all enjoy liberty, peace, and amusement, if only they know how to be prudent, discreet, honorable."]

Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature,' by William C. Lawton

MEIR AARON GOLDSCHMIDT

(1819-1887)

In the first line of his memoirs Goldschmidt states that he was of "the tribe of Levi," a fact of which he was never unconscious, and which has given him his peculiar position in modern Danish literature as the exponent of the family and social life of the orthodox Jew. Brandes writes of Goldschmidt that: "In spite of his cosmopolitan spirit, he has always loved two nationalities above all others and equally well,--the Jewish and the Danish. He has looked upon himself as a sort of noble-born bastard; and with the bat of the fable he has said alternately to the mice, 'I am a mouse' and to the birds, 'I have wings.' He has endeavored to give his answer to the questions of the Jew's place in modern culture."

Goldschmidt was born on the 26th of October, 1819. His early childhood was spent partly in the country, in the full freedom of country life, and partly in the city, where he was sent to school in preparation for the professional career his father had planned for him, in preference to a business life like his own. Goldschmidt took part in the religious instruction of the school, at the same time observing the customs of the Jewish ritual at home without a full understanding of its meaning,--somewhat as he was taught to read Hebrew without being able to translate a word of it into Danish. In the senior class his religious instructor let him join in the Bible reading, but refused to admit him to the catechism class; as a consequence he failed to answer a few questions on his examination papers, and fell just short of a maximum. This made him feel that he was ostracized by his Jewish birth, and put an end to his desire for further academic studies.

At the age of eighteen he began his journalistic career as editor of a provincial paper, the care of which cost him a lawsuit and subjected him to a year's censorship. Soon after, he sold the paper for two hundred dollars, and with this money he started the Copenhagen weekly The Corsair, which in no time gained a large reading public, and whose Friday appearance was awaited with weekly increasing interest. The editorials were given up to aesthetic and poetic discussions, and the small matter treated the questions of the day with a pointed wit that soon made The Corsair as widely feared as it was eagerly read. He had reached only the third number when it was put under censorship, and lawsuits followed in quick succession. Goldschmidt did not officially assume the responsibility of editor, although it was an open secret that he was author of most of the articles; publicly the blows were warded off by pretended owners whose names were often changed. One of the few men whom The Corsair left unattacked was Soeren Kierkegaard, for whose literary and scholarly talents Goldschmidt had great respect. That The Corsair was under the ban of the law, so to speak, and had brought him even a four-days' imprisonment, was a small matter to Goldschmidt; but when Kierkegaard passed a scathing moral judgment on the paper, Goldschmidt sold out for four thousand dollars and started with this sum on his travels, "to get rid of wit and learn something better."

In 1847 he was again back in Copenhagen, and began life anew as editor of North and South, a weekly containing excellent aesthetic and critical studies, but mainly important on account of its social and political influence. Already, in the time of The Corsair, Goldschmidt had begun his work as novelist with 'A Jew,' written in 1843-45, and had taken possession of the field which became his own. It was a promising book, that met with immediate appreciation. Even Kierkegaard forgot for a moment the editor of The Corsair in his praise. The Jews, however, looked upon the descriptions of intimate Jewish family life somewhat as a desecration of the Holy of Holies; and if broad-minded enough to forgive this, thought it unwise to accentuate the Jew's position as an element apart in social life. It argues a certain narrowness in Goldschmidt that he has never been able to refrain from striking this note, and Brandes blames him for the bad taste of "continually serving his grandmother with sharp sauce."

Goldschmidt wrote another long novel, 'Homeless'; but it is principally in his shorter works, such as 'Love Stories from Many Countries' 'Maser,' and 'Avromche Nightingale,' that he has left a great and good gift to Danish literature. The shorter his composition, the more perfect was his treatment. He was above all a stylist.

He always had a tendency to mysticism, and in his last years he was greatly taken up with his theory of Nemesis, on which he wrote a book, containing much that is suggestive but also much that is obviously the result of the wish to make everything conform to a pet theory. His lasting importance will be as the first and foremost influence on modern Danish prose.

ASSAR AND MIRJAM

From 'Love Stories from Many Countries'

Assar, son of Juda, a valiant and jealous youth, came walking toward Modin, when from one of the hills he saw a great sight on the plain. Here warriors rode a chariot race in a great circle; many people stood about, calling loudly to the drivers and the spirited horses. Yonder were horsemen in golden armor, trying to catch rings on their spears; and drums were beaten in honor of the winner. On the outskirts of the plain was a little grove of olive-trees; it was not dense. In the grove stood a nude woman hewn in marble; her hair was of gold and her eyes were black, and young girls danced around her with garlands of flowers.

Then Assar said:--"Woe unto us! These are Jewish maidens dancing around the idol, and these are Greek men carrying arms on our holy ground and playing at games as if they were in their home! and no Jewish man makes the game dangerous for them!"

He went down the hill and came to a thicket reaching down to a little brook. On the other side of the brook stood a Greek centurion, a young man, and he was talking to a girl, who stood on this side of the brook on the edge of the thicket.

The warrior said:--"Thou sayest that thy God forbids thee to go over into the grove. What a dark and unfriendly God they have given thee, beautiful child of Juda! He hates thy youth, and the joy of life, and the roses which ought to crown thy black hair. My gods are of a friendlier mind toward mortals. Every morning Apollo drives his glorious span over the arch of the heavens and lights warriors to their deeds; Selene's milder torch glows at night for lovers, and to those who have worshiped her in this life beautiful Aphrodite gives eternal life on her blessed isle. It is her statue standing in the grove. When thou givest thyself under her protection she gives thee in return a hero for thy faithful lover, and later on, graceful daughter of Juda, some god will set thee with thy radiant eyes among the stars, to be a light to mortals and a witness of the beauty of earthly love."

The young girl might have answered; but at this moment Assar was near her, and she knew him, and he saw that it was Mirjam, Rabbi Mattathew's daughter,--the woman he loved, and who was his promised bride. She turned and followed him; but the warrior on the other side of the brook called out, "What right hast thou to lead this maiden away?"

Assar replied, "I have no right."

"Then why dost thou go with him, sweet daughter of Juda?" cried the warrior.

Mirjam did not answer, but Assar said, "Because she has not yet given up serving her Master."

"Who is her master?" asked the warrior. "I can buy thee freedom, my beautiful child!"

Assar replied, "I wish thou may'st see him."[E]

[E] "Whoever sees God must die."

The warrior, who could not cross the brook at this place, or anywhere near it, called as they went away, "Tell me thy master's name!"

Assar turned and answered, "I will beg him come to thee."

A hill hid them from the eyes of the warrior, and Mirjam said, "Assar!"

Assar replied, "Mirjam! I have never loved thee as dearly as I do to-day--I do not know if it is a curse or a blessing which is in my veins. Thou hast listened to the words of the heathen."

"I listened to them because he spoke kindly; but I have not betrayed the Lord nor thee."

"Thou hast permitted his words to reach thy ear and thy soul."

"What could I do, Assar? He spoke kindly."

Assar stood still, and said to himself, "Yes, he spoke kindly. They do speak kindly. And they spoke kind words to the poor girls who danced around the idol in the grove. Had they spoken harsh and threatening words, they would not have danced."

Again he stood still, and said to himself, "If they came using force, the rabbi would kill her and then himself, or she would throw herself from a rock of her own free will. But who can set a guard to watch over kind words?"

The third time he stood still, and said, "O Israel, thou canst not bear kind words!"

Mirjam thought that he suspected her; and she stood still and said, "I am a rabbi's daughter!"

Assar replied, "O Mirjam, I am Assar, and I will be the son of my own actions."

"For God's sake," exclaimed Mirjam, "do not seek that warrior, and do not enter into a quarrel with him! He will kill thee or have thee put into prison. There is misery enough in Israel! The strangers have entered our towns. Let us bend our heads and await the will of God, but not challenge! Assar, I should die if anything happened to thee!"

"And what would I do if anything happened to thee! My head swims! Whither should I flee? Would thy father and thy brothers flee to the wilds of the mountains?"

"They have spoken of that. But there is no place to flee to and not much to flee from; for although the heathen have taken gold and goods, yet they are kind this time."

Assar replied, "Oh yes, they are kind; I had almost forgotten it. Mirjam, if I go away wilt thou believe, and go on believing, that I go on God's errand?"

"Assar, a dark look from thee is dearer to me than the kindest from any heathen, and a word of thine is more to me than many witnesses. But do not leave me! Stay and protect me!"

"I go to protect thee! I go to the heights and to the depths to call forth the God of Israel. Await his coming!" ...

Assar went to the King, Antiochus Epiphanes, bent low before him, and said, "May the Master of the world guide thy steps!"

The King looked at him well pleased, and asked his name; whereupon Assar answered that he was a man of the tribe of Juda.

The King said, "Few of thy countrymen come to serve me!"

Assar replied, "If thou wilt permit thy servant a bold word, King, the fault is thine."

And when the King, astonished, asked how this might be, Assar answered, "Because thou art too kind, lord."

The King turned to his adviser, and said laughingly, "When we took the treasures of the temple in Jerusalem, they found it hard enough."

"O King," said Assar, "silver and gold and precious stones can be regained, and the Israelites know this; but thou lettest them keep that which cannot be regained when once it is lost."

The King answered quickly, "What is that?" and Assar replied:--"The Israelites have a God, who is very powerful but also very jealous. He has always helped them in the time of need if they held near to him and did not worship strange gods; for this his jealousy will not bear. When they do this he forsakes them. But thou, O King, hast taken their silver and gold and jewels, but hast let them keep the God who gives it all back to them. They know this; and so they smile at thee, and await that thou shalt be thrown into the dust by him, and they will arise his avengers, and persecute thy men."

The King paled; he remembered his loss in Egypt, and he feared that if the enemy pursued him he should find help in Israel; and he said, "What ought we to do?"

Assar replied: "If thou wilt permit thy servant to utter his humble advice, thou shouldst use severity and forbid their praying to the God they call Jehovah, and order them to pray to thy gods."

The King's adviser looked at Assar and asked, "Hast thou offered up sacrifice to our gods?"

Assar replied, "I am ready."

They led him to the altar, and on the way thither Assar said:--"Lord, all-powerful God! Thou who seest the heart and not alone the deeds of the hand, be my witness! It is written: 'And it shall happen in that same hour that I shall wipe out the name of idols out of the land, and they shall be remembered no more, and the unclean spirit shall I cause to depart from the country.' Do thou according to thy word, O Lord! Amen!"