men, women and ghosts(男人、女人和鬼魂)-第11章
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the smoke of candles guttering； And caught the glint of jewelled fans
fluttering
All round her in the boxes。 Red and gold； The house； like rubies set
in filigree； Filliped the candlelight about； and bold Young sparks with eye…
glasses； unblushingly Ogled fair beauties in the balcony。 An officer went
by； his steel spurs jangling。 Behind Charlotta an old man was wrangling
About a play…bill he had bought and lost。 Three drunken soldiers had
to be ejected。 Frau Altgelt's eyes stared at the vacant post Of Concert…
Meister； she at once detected The stir which brought him。 But she felt
neglected When with no glance about him or her way； He lifted up his
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violin to play。
The curtain went up？ Perhaps。 If so； Charlotta never saw it
go。 The famous Fraeulein Gebnitz' singing Only came to her like
the ringing Of bells at a festa Which swing in the air And
nobody realizes they are there。 They jingle and jangle； And clang；
and bang； And never a soul could tell whether they rang； For the
plopping of guns and rockets And the chinking of silver to spend； in
one's pockets； And the shuffling and clapping of feet； And the
loud flapping Of flags； with the drums； As the military comes。
It's a famous tune to walk to； And I wonder where they're off to。
Step…step…stepping to the beating of the drums。 But the rhythm
changes as though a mist Were curling and twisting Over the
landscape。 For a moment a rhythmless； tuneless fog Encompasses
her。 Then her senses jog To the breath of a stately minuet。 Herr
Altgelt's violin is set In tune to the slow； sweeping bows； and retreats
and advances； To curtsies brushing the waxen floor as the Court
dances。 Long and peaceful like warm Summer nights When stars
shine in the quiet river。 And against the lights Blundering insects
knock； And the ‘Rathaus' clock Booms twice； through the shrill
sounds Of flutes and horns in the lamplit grounds。 Pressed against
him in the mazy wavering Of a country dance； with her short breath
quavering She leans upon the beating； throbbing Music。
Laughing； sobbing； Feet gliding after sliding feet； His hers
The ballroom blurs She feels the air Lifting her hair； And
the lapping of water on the stone stair。 He is there！ He is there！
Twang harps； and squeal； you thin violins； That the dancers may
dance； and never discover The old stone stair leading down to the
river With the chestnut…tree branches hanging over Her and her
lover。 Theodore； still her lover！
The evening passed like this； in a half faint； Delirium with waking
intervals Which were the entr'acts。 Under the restraint Of a large
company； the constant calls For oranges or syrops from the stalls Outside；
the talk； the passing to and fro； Lotta sat ill at ease； incognito。
She heard the Gebnitz praised； the tenor lauded； The music vaunted as
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most excellent。 The scenery and the costumes were applauded； The latter it
was whispered had been sent From Italy。 The Herr Direktor spent A
fortune on them； so the gossips said。 Charlotta felt a lightness in her head。
When the next act began； her eyes were swimming； Her prodded ears
were aching and confused。 The first notes from the orchestra sent
skimming Her outward consciousness。 Her brain was fused Into the
music； Theodore's music！ Used To hear him play； she caught his single
tone。 For all she noticed they two were alone。
Part Fourth
Frau Altgelt waited in the chilly street； Hustled by lackeys who ran up
and down Shouting their coachmen's names； forced to retreat A pace or
two by lurching chairmen； thrown Rudely aside by linkboys； boldly shown
The ogling rapture in two bleary eyes Thrust close to hers in most
unpleasant wise。
Escaping these； she hit a liveried arm； Was sworn at by this glittering
gentleman And ordered off。 However； no great harm Came to her。 But
she looked a trifle wan When Theodore； her belated guardian； Emerged。
She snuggled up against him； trembling； Half out of fear； half out of the
assembling
Of all the thoughts and needs his playing had given。 Had she enjoyed
herself； he wished to know。 〃Oh！ Theodore； can't you feel that it was
Heaven！〃 〃Heaven！ My Lottachen； and was it so？ Gebnitz was in good
voice； but all the flow Of her last aria was spoiled by Klops； A wretched
flutist； she was mad as hops。〃
He was so simple； so matter…of…fact； Charlotta Altgelt knew not what
to say To bring him to her dream。 His lack of tact Kept him explaining
all the homeward way How this thing had gone well； that badly。 〃Stay；
Theodore！〃 she cried at last。 〃You know to me Nothing was real； it was
an ecstasy。〃
And he was heartily glad she had enjoyed Herself so much； and said so。
〃But it's good To be got home again。〃 He was employed In looking at his
violin； the wood Was old； and evening air did it no good。 But when he
drew up to the table for tea Something about his wife's vivacity
Struck him as hectic； worried him in short。 He talked of this and that
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but watched her close。 Tea over； he endeavoured to extort The cause of her
excitement。 She arose And stood beside him； trying to compose Herself；
all whipt to quivering； curdled life； And he； poor fool； misunderstood his
wife。
Suddenly； broken through her anxious grasp； Her music…kindled love
crashed on him there。 Amazed； he felt her fling against him； clasp Her
arms about him； weighing down his chair； Sobbing out all her hours of
despair。 〃Theodore； a woman needs to hear things proved。 Unless you tell
me； I feel I'm not loved。〃
Theodore went under in this tearing wave； He yielded to it； and its
headlong flow Filled him with all the energy she gave。 He was a youth
again； and this bright glow； This living； vivid joy he had to show Her what
she was to him。 Laughing and crying； She asked assurances there's no
denying。
Over and over again her questions； till He quite convinced her； every
now and then She kissed him； shivering as though doubting still。 But later
when they were composed and when She dared relax her probings；
〃Lottachen；〃 He asked； 〃how is it your love has withstood My
inadvertence？ I was made of wood。〃
