Melina was in hopes to get established, with his company, in a small but
thriving town at some distance. They had already reached the place where
the count's horses were to turn, and now they looked about for other
carriages and cattle to transport them onward. Melina had engaged to
provide them a conveyance: he showed himself but niggardly, according to
his custom. Wilhelm, on the contrary, had the shining ducats of the
countess in his pocket, and thought he had the fullest right to spend
them merrily; forgetting very soon how ostentatiously he had produced
them in the stately balance transmitted to his father.
His friend Shakspeare, whom with the greatest joy he acknowledged as his
godfather, and rejoiced the more that his name was Wilhelm, had
introduced him to a prince, who frolicked for a time among mean, nay,
vicious companions, and who, notwithstanding his nobleness of nature,
found pleasure in the rudeness, indecency, and coarse intemperance of
these altogether sensual knaves. This ideal likeness, which he figured
as the type and the excuse of his own actual condition, was most welcome
to our friend; and the process of self-deception, to which already he
displayed an almost invincible tendency, was thereby very much
facilitated.
He now began to think about his dress. It struck him that a waistcoat,
over which, in case of need, one could throw a little short mantle, was
a very fit thing for a traveller. Long knit pantaloons, and a pair of
lacing-boots, seemed the true garb of a pedestrian. He next procured a
fine silk sash, which he tied about him, under the pretence at first of
securing warmth for his person. On the other hand, he freed his neck
from the tyranny of stocks, and got a few stripes of muslin sewed upon
his shirt; making the pieces of considerable breadth, so that they
presented the complete appearance of an ancient ruff. The beautiful silk
neckerchief, the memorial of Mariana, which had once been saved from
burning, now lay slackly tied beneath this muslin collar. A round hat,
with a party-colored band, and a large feather, perfected the mask.
The women all asserted that this garb became him very well. Philina in
particular appeared enchanted with it. She solicited his hair for
herself,--beautiful locks, which, the closer to approach the natural
ideal, he had unmercifully clipped. By so doing she recommended herself
not amiss to his favor; and our friend, who by his open-handedness had
acquired the right of treating his companions somewhat in Prince Harry's
manner, erelong fell into the humor of himself contriving a few wild
tricks, and presiding in the execution of them. The people fenced, they
danced, they devised all kinds of sports, and, in their gayety of heart,
partook of what tolerable wine they could fall in with in copious
proportions; while, amid the disorder of this tumultuous life, Philina
lay in wait for the coy hero,--over whom let his better genius keep
watch!
One chief diversion, which yielded the company a frequent and very
pleasing entertainment, consisted in producing an extempore play, in
which their late benefactors and patrons were mimicked, and turned into
ridicule. Some of our actors had seized very neatly whatever was
peculiar in the outward manner of several distinguished people in the
count's establishment; their imitation of these was received by the rest
of the party with the greatest approbation: and when Philina produced,
from the secret archives of her experience, certain peculiar
declarations of love that had been made to her, the audience were like
to die with laughing and malicious joy.
Wilhelm censured their ingratitude; but they told him in reply that
these gentry well deserved what they were getting, their general conduct
toward such deserving people, as our friends believed themselves, not
having been by any means the best imaginable. The little consideration,
the neglect they had experienced, were now described with many
aggravations. The jesting, bantering, and mimicry proceeded as before:
our party were growing bitterer and more unjust every minute.
"I wish," observed Wilhelm, "there were no envy or selfishness lurking
under what you say, but that you would regard those persons and their
station in the proper point of view. It is a peculiar thing to be
placed, by one's very birth, in an elevated situation in society. The
man for whom inherited wealth has secured a perfect freedom of
existence; who finds himself from his youth upwards abundantly
encompassed with all the secondary essentials, so to speak, of human
life,--will generally become accustomed to consider these qualifications
as the first and greatest of all; while the worth of that mode of human
life, which nature from her own stores equips and furnishes, will strike
him much more faintly. The behavior of noblemen to their inferiors, and
likewise to each other, is regulated by external preferences. They give
each credit for his title, his rank, his clothes, and equipage; but his
individual merits come not into play."
This speech was honored with the company's unbounded applause. They
declared it to be shameful, that men of merit should constantly be
pushed into the background; and that, in the great world, there should
not be a trace of natural and hearty intercourse. On this latter point
particularly they overshot all bounds.
"Blame them not for it," said Wilhelm, "rather pity them! They have
seldom an exalted feeling of that happiness which we admit to be the
highest that can flow from the inward abundance of nature. Only to us
poor creatures is it granted to enjoy the happiness of friendship in its
richest fulness. Those dear to us we cannot elevate by our countenance,
or advance by our favor, or make happy by our presents. We have nothing
but ourselves. This whole self we must give away; and, if it is to be of
any value, we must make our friend secure of it forever. What an
enjoyment, what a happiness, for giver and receiver! With what
blessedness does truth of affection invest our situation! It gives to
the transitory life of man a heavenly certainty: it forms the crown and
capital of all that we possess."
While he spoke thus, Mignon had come near him: she threw her little arms
round him, and stood with her cheek resting on his breast. He laid his
hand on the child's head, and proceeded, "It is easy for a great man to
win our minds to him, easy to make our hearts his own. A mild and
pleasant manner, a manner only not inhuman, will of itself do
wonders,--and how many means does he possess of holding fast the
affections he has once conquered? To us, all this occurs less
frequently; to us it is all more difficult; and we naturally, therefore,
put a greater value on whatever, in the way of mutual kindness, we
acquire and accomplish. What touching examples of faithful servants
giving themselves up to danger and death for their masters? How finely
has Shakspeare painted out such things to us! Fidelity, in this case, is
the effort of a noble soul, struggling to become equal with one exalted
above it. By steadfast attachment and love, the servant is made equal to
his lord, who, but for this, is justified in looking on him as a hired
slave. Yes, these virtues belong to the lower class of men alone: that
class cannot do without them, and with them it has a beauty of its own.
Whoever is enabled to requite all favors easily will likewise easily be
tempted to raise himself above the habit of acknowledgment. Nay, in this
sense, I am of opinion it might almost be maintained, that a great man
may possess friends, but cannot be one."
Mignon clung more and more closely to him.
"It may be so," replied one of the party: "we do not need their
friendship, and do not ask it. But it were well if they understood a
little more about the arts, which they affect to patronize. When we
played in the best style, there was none to mind us: it was all sheer
partiality. Any one they chose to favor, pleased; and they did not
choose to favor those that merited to please. It was intolerable to
observe how often silliness and mere stupidity attracted notice and
applause."
"When I abate from this," said Wilhelm, "what seemed to spring from
irony and malice, I think we may nearly say, that one fares in art as he
does in love. And, after all, how shall a fashionable man of the world,
with his dissipated habits, attain that intimate presence with a special
object, which an artist must long continue in, if he would produce any
thing approaching to perfection,--a state of feeling without which it is
impossible for any one to take such an interest, as the artist hopes and
wishes, in his work?
"Believe me, my friends, it is with talents as with virtue; one must
love them for their own sake, or entirely renounce them. And neither of
them is acknowledged and rewarded, except when their possessor can
practise them unseen, like a dangerous secret."
"Meanwhile, until some proper judge discovers us, we may all die of
hunger," cried a fellow in the corner.
"Not quite inevitably," answered Wilhelm. "I have observed, that, so
long as one stirs and lives, one always finds food and raiment, though
they be not of the richest sort. And why should we repine? Were we not,
altogether unexpectedly, and when our prospects were the very worst,
taken kindly by the hand, and substantially entertained? And now, when
we are in want of nothing, does it once occur to us to attempt any thing
for our improvement, or to strive, though never so faintly, towards
advancement in our art? We are busied about indifferent matters; and,
like school-boys, we are casting all aside that might bring our lesson
to our thoughts."
"In sad truth," said Philina, "it is even so! Let us choose a play: we
will go through it on the spot. Each of us must do his best, as if he
stood before the largest audience."
They did not long deliberate: a play was fixed on. It was one of those
which at that time were meeting great applause in Germany, and have now
passed away. Some of the party whistled a symphony; each speedily
bethought him of his part; they commenced, and acted the entire play
with the greatest attention, and really well beyond expectation. Mutual
applauses circulated: our friends had seldom been so pleasantly
diverted.
On finishing, they all felt exceedingly contented, partly on account of
their time being spent so well, partly because each of them experienced
some degree of satisfaction with his own performance. Wilhelm expressed
himself copiously in their praise: the conversation grew cheerful and
merry.
"You would see," cried our friend, "what advances we should make, if we
continued this sort of training, and ceased to confine our attention to
mere learning by heart, rehearsing and playing mechanically, as if it
were a barren duty, or some handicraft employment. How different a
character do our musical professors merit! What interest they take in
their art! how correct are they in the practisings they undertake in
common! What pains they are at in tuning their instruments; how exactly
they observe time; how delicately they express the strength and the
weakness of their tones! No one there thinks of gaining credit to
himself by a loud accompaniment of the solo of another. Each tries to
play in the spirit of the composer, each to express well whatever is
committed to him, be it much or little.
"Should not we, too, go as strictly and as ingeniously to work, seeing
we practise an art far more delicate than that of music,--seeing we are
called on to express the commonest and the strangest emotions of human
nature, with elegance, and so as to delight? Can any thing be more
shocking than to slur over our rehearsal, and in our acting to depend on
good luck, or the capricious choice of the moment? We ought to place our
highest happiness and satisfaction in mutually desiring to gain each
other's approbation: we should even value the applauses of the public
only in so far as we have previously sanctioned them among ourselves.
Why is the master of the band more secure about his music than the
manager about his play? Because, in the orchestra, each individual would
feel ashamed of his mistakes, which offend the outward ear; but how
seldom have I found an actor disposed to acknowledge or feel ashamed of
mistakes, pardonable or the contrary, by which the inward ear is so
outrageously offended! I could wish, for my part, that our theatre were
as narrow as the wire of a rope-dancer, that so no inept fellow might
dare to venture on it, instead of being, as it is, a place where every
one discovers in himself capacity enough to flourish and parade."
The company gave this apostrophe a kind reception; each being convinced
that the censure conveyed in it could not apply to him, after acting a
little while ago so excellently with the rest. On the other hand, it was
agreed, that during this journey, and for the future if they remained
together, they would regularly proceed with their training in the manner
just adopted. Only it was thought, that, as this was a thing of good
humor and free will, no formal manager must be allowed to have a hand in
it. Taking it for an established fact, that, among good men, the
republican form of government is the best, they declared that the post
of manager should go round among them: he must be chosen by universal
suffrage, and every time have a sort of little senate joined in
authority along with him. So delighted did they feel with this idea,
that they longed to put it instantly in practice.
"I have no objection," said Melina, "if you incline making such an
experiment while we are travelling: I shall willingly suspend my own
directorship until we reach some settled place." He was in hopes of
saving cash by this arrangement, and of casting many small expenses on
the shoulders of the little senate or of the interim manager. This
fixed, they went very earnestly to counsel how the form of the new
commonwealth might best be adjusted.
"'Tis an itinerating kingdom," said Laertes: "we shall at least have no
quarrels about frontiers."
They directly proceeded to the business, and elected Wilhelm as their
first manager. The senate also was appointed, the women having seat and
vote in it: laws were propounded, were rejected, were agreed to. In such
playing, the time passed on unnoticed; and, as our friends had spent it
pleasantly, they also conceived that they had really been effecting
something useful, and, by their new constitution, had been opening a new
prospect for the stage of their native country.