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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.
Read next: Chapter V. Metamorphosis of the Copying-Clerk
Read previous: Chapter III. The Watchman's Adventure
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