Read Ebook: The doctor &c. vol. 1 (of 7) by Southey Robert

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--Marchons, r?pondit-il, je dois te montrer le spectacle de la vie humaine, telle qu'elle est, dans toute sa r?alit?.

Plein d'?pouvant?, je le suivis, et il me conduisit longtemps par des marches gigantesques.... Tout ? coup j'ai vu une grande ville morte pleine de traces de ruine et de pourriture, c'?tait tout un monde de cadavres, les restes de la grandeur fan?e, de la puissance fl?trie.... Et une lumi?re p?le, comme celle des ?glises, ?clairait cette ville morte.... Et mon ?me se remplit de terreur.... Et l'ange me dit tout bas: Ici, vois-tu, tout est vanit?!

Et j'ai entendu un bruit--bruit d'un orage,--puis des soupirs, des milliers de voix humaines, puis un rugissement de temp?te, rugissement formidable, et les morts et les cadavres s'agit?rent, et leurs bras se tendirent vers moi.... Et je me suis r?veill? tout couvert de sueur.>>

Orphelin ? seize ans, Henrik Ibsen fut oblig? pour gagner sa vie de quitter l'?cole et d'accepter une place d'?l?ve-commis dans une pharmacie ? Grimstad, petite ville de 800 habitants, sur les bords du Skager-Rack qui fait communiquer la mer du Nord avec le Catt?gat.

Tout en pr?parant des pilules et des sirops, il s'abandonnait ? la versification.

Le fr?missement ?lectrique qui parcourait alors l'Europe enti?re et la remuait jusque dans ses fondements, ?branla aussi la Scandinavie. Jusqu'? cette ?poque la Norv?ge se trouvait sous l'influence du Danemark, mais d?s 1847 le mouvement nationaliste y devint grand; on commen?a ? purifier le dialecte norv?gien, qui fut adopt? par les ?crivains, on ne donna dans les th??tres que des pi?ces nationales et ce mouvement eut sa r?percussion jusqu'? la pharmacie de Grimstad, o? le jeune po?te discutait si la R?volution Fran?aise deviendrait la R?volution Universelle.

Lorsque, en 1848, la nation hongroise, sortant de la torpeur dans laquelle l'Autriche l'avait plong?e, entama l'oeuvre de la renaissance, lorsque apr?s trois si?cles de luttes contre les usurpations inhumaines, luttes douloureuses et sanglantes, la Hongrie se r?volta; lorsque le po?te de son ind?pendance, Petoefi, s'?cria: Debout, peuple hongrois! une voix isol?e et faible mais enflamm?e lui r?pondit des bords du Skager-Rack, celle d'Ibsen, qui, dans un long po?me, surexcita les hongrois ? l'action, ? la lutte pour la Libert?.

Les ?tudes n'allaient pas trop bien. . L'?tude ne suffit pas pour d?velopper les germes du talent original, c'est la vie enti?re qu'il faut, une vie de combats, de souffrances et d'?preuves.

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La m?me ann?e le jeune dramaturge fut nomm? r?gisseur g?n?ral du th??tre de Bergen qui venait d'?tre fond? par Ole Bull, c?l?bre violoniste norv?gien. Il occupa cette place jusqu'en 1857 et devint alors directeur du th??tre de Christiania qui fit faillite en 1862. C'est Bjornson qui le rempla?a ? Bergen.

On ?prouve un grand plaisir ? entendre madame Ibsen parler de l'oeuvre de son mari. Avec sa forte intelligence, sa compr?hension parfaite, sa sympathie fervente et enthousiaste, elle en est le juge et le commentateur le plus clairvoyant.

Elle n'est pas jolie, mais ses grands yeux noirs rayonnent de bont? et sa voix de contralto est douce et caressante. On raconte qu'Henrik Ibsen dit jadis de sa fianc?e: <>

Madame Ibsen ?tait dans sa jeunesse une tr?s intr?pide touriste. Elle est d'une modestie fi?re et ind?pendante. Elle se soustrait avec beaucoup de discr?tion aux triomphes de son mari et le laisse seul cueillir ses lauriers.

Leur unique fils, M. Sigurd Ibsen, a pass? la plus grande partie de sa vie ? l'?tranger aupr?s de ses parents. Il y a ? peine trois ans il a ?t? question de cr?er pour lui ? l'Universit? de Christiania une chaire de sociologie, mais le conseil de l'Universit? d?clina ce projet ce qui causa au vieux po?te beaucoup de chagrin. M. Sigurd Ibsen a ?pous? la fille a?n?e de Bjornson. Cette union de leurs enfants a rapproch? un peu, apr?s une longue s?paration, les deux grands ?crivains norv?giens. Mais la forte amiti? qui les liait, il y a vingt-cinq ans, est bris?e; il n'y a plus un seul point important sur lequel ils sentent et pensent de m?me. Leurs id?es sont compl?tement oppos?es non seulement sur la politique mais aussi sur certaines questions scientifiques.

Comme madame Tolsto?, c'est madame Ibsen qui s'occupe du c?t? mat?riel des oeuvres de son mari. <>

Christiania, ? l'?poque o? Ibsen prit la direction du th??tre, ?tait une petite ville avec toutes ses mesquineries.

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Le conflit entre les partis et les classes diff?rentes de la soci?t? y est encore aujourd'hui tr?s aigu.

En aucun lieu du monde on n'est envelopp? autant qu'ici de la froide aust?rit? luth?rienne. <>

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En 1864, lorsque ?clata la guerre entre le Danemark et la Prusse, Ibsen adressa un appel chaleureux ? ses compatriotes, leur demandant d'aller au secours d'un peuple-fr?re, mais la Su?de et la Norv?ge refus?rent de venir en aide au plus faible, elles le laiss?rent d?membrer par le plus fort.

Ce refus r?volta le coeur g?n?reux du po?te, il quitta son pays natal, il alla ? Rome demander au soleil d'Italie un peu de r?pit pour son ?me rebelle....

NOTES:

La m?me ann?e que Tolsto?.

Jeg mindes saa grant, som on idag det var hoendt Den kveld jeg saa i bladet mit f?rste digt p? prent. Der sad jeg p? min hybel og med dampende drag Jeg r?gte og jeg dr?mte i saligt selvbe hag.

Type de bourgeois rang?.

Type de r?veur.

CHAPITRE II

Ibsen ? l'?tranger: Italie, Allemagne. L'inauguration du canal de Suez. Voyage sur le Nil. L'indiff?rence de la Norv?ge envers son grand po?te. Les souffrances morales d'Ibsen. 1864-1891.

C'est au mois de juin 1864 qu'Henrik Ibsen arriva ? Rome. Madame Ibsen et son fils l'y rejoignirent l'ann?e suivante. La ville ?ternelle eut sur l'exil? norv?gien une grande influence. <>

Les gigantesques d?bris d'un monde bris? nous font comprendre la vanit? de l'homme et la grandeur de la pens?e; on se sent en communication avec l'infini, avec l'humanit? enti?re. Le po?te r?volt? du nord visita la vieille r?publique de Florence, ce v?ritable berceau et foyer de la Renaissance, pays d'illustres exil?s, spoli?s, d?capit?s, de Michel-Ange, de Machiavel, de L?onard de Vinci, de Dante, ce po?te souverain, ce roi des chants sublimes, qui, comme un aigle plane sur la t?te fernal regions they go out, but at which of the five entrances of the town of Mansoul they get in John Bunyan hath not explained. Some have conceited that unembodied spirits have access to us during sleep, and impress upon the passive faculty, by divine permission, presentiments of those things whereof it is fitting that we should be thus dimly forewarned. This opinion is held by Baxter, and to this also doth Bishop Newton incline. The old atomists supposed that the likenesses or spectres of corporeal things, the atomists I say, supposed that these spectral forms which are constantly emitted from all bodies,

assail the soul when she ought to be at rest; according to which theory all the lathered faces that are created every morning in the looking-glass, and all the smiling ones that my Lord Simper and Mr. Smallwit contemplate there with so much satisfaction during the day, must at this moment be floating up and down the world. Others again opine, as if in contradiction to those who pretend life to be a dream, that dreams are realities, and that sleep sets the soul free like a bird from a cage. John Henderson saw the spirit of a slumbering cat pass from her in pursuit of a visionary mouse;--; and the soul of Hans Engelbrecht not only went to hell, but brought back from it a stench which proved to all the bystanders that it had been there.--Faugh!

Whether then my spirit that night found its way out at the nose, and actually sallied out seeking adventures; or whether the spectrum of the Horse floated into my chamber; or some benevolent genius or daemon assumed the well-known and welcome form; or whether the dream were merely a dream,--

so however it was that in the visions of the night I mounted Nobs. Tell me not of Astolfo's hippogriff, or Pacolet's wooden steed; nor

Of that wonderous horse of brass Whereon the Tartar King did pass;

Where did we go on that memorable night? What did we see?--What did we do?--Or rather what did we not see! and what did we not perform!

A CONVERSATION AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE.

LA PRETIEUSE.

I went down to breakfast as usual overflowing with joyous thoughts. For mirth and for music the skylark is but a type of me. I warbled a few wood notes wild, and then full of the unborn work, addressed myself to my wife's eldest sister, and asked if she would permit me to dedicate the Book to her. "What book?" she replied. "The History," said I, "of Dr. Daniel Dove of Doncaster, and his Horse Nobs." She answered, "No indeed! I will have no such nonsense dedicated to me!"--and with that she drew up her upper lip, and the lower region of the nose. I turned to my wife's youngest sister: "Shall I have the pleasure of dedicating it to you?" She raised her eyes, inclined her head forwards with a smile of negation, and begged leave to decline the honour. "Commandante," said I, to my wife and Commandress, "shall I dedicate it then to you?" My Commandante made answer, "not unless you have something better to dedicate."

"Two volumes," said I, "and this in the title-page!" So taking out my pencil, I drew upon the back of a letter the mysterious monogram, erudite in its appearance as the digamma of Mr. A. F. Valpy.

THE UTILITY OF POCKETS. A COMPLIMENT PROPERLY RECEIVED.

My eldest daughter had finished her Latin lessons, and my son had finished his Greek; and I was sitting at my desk, pen in hand, and in mouth at the same time, when the Bhow Begum came in with her black velvet reticule, suspended as usual from her arm by its silver chain.

Dr. Towers used to have his coat pockets made of capacity to hold a quarto volume--a wise custom; but requiring stout cloth, good buckram, and strong thread well waxed. I do not so greatly commend the humour of Dr. Ingenhouz, whose coat was lined with pockets of all sizes, wherein, in his latter years, when science had become to him as a plaything, he carried about various materials for chemical experiments: among the rest so many compositions for fulminating powders in glass tubes, separated only by a cork in the middle of the tube, that, if any person had unhappily given him a blow with a stick, he might have blown up himself and the Doctor too. For myself, four coat pockets of the ordinary dimensions content me; in these a sufficiency of conveniences may be carried, and that sufficiency methodically arranged. For mark me, gentle or ungentle Reader! there is nothing like method in pockets, as well as in composition: and what orderly and methodical man would have his pocket-handkerchief, and his pocket-book, and the key of his door and his knife, and his loose pence and half-pence, and the letters which peradventure he might just have received, or peradventure he may intend to drop in the post-office, two-penny or general, as he passes by, and his snuff, if he be accustomed so to regale his olfactory conduits, or his tobacco-box, if he prefer the masticable to the pulverized weed; or his box of lozenges if he should be troubled with a tickling cough; and the sugar-plumbs and the gingerbread nuts which he may be carrying home to his own children, or to any other small men and women upon whose hearts he may have a design;--who I say would like to have all this in chaos and confusion, one lying upon the other, and the thing which is wanted first fated alway to be undermost!-- the snuff working its way out to the gingerbread, the sugar-plumbs insinuating themselves into the folds of the pocket-handkerchief, the pence grinding the lozenges to dust for the benefit of the pocket-book, and the door key busily employed in unlocking the letters?

Now, forasmuch as the commutation of female pockets for the reticule leadeth to inconveniences like this, I abominate that bag of the Bhow Begum, notwithstanding the beauty of the silver chain upon the black velvet. And perceiving at this time that the clasp of its silver setting was broken, so that the mouth of the bag was gaping pitiably, like a sick or defunct oyster, I congratulated her as she came in upon this farther proof of the commodiousness of the invention; for here, in the country, there is no workman who can mend that clasp, and the bag must therefore either be laid aside, or used in that deplorable state.

When the Bhow Begum had seated herself I told her how my proffered dedication had been thrice rejected with scorn, and repeating the offer I looked for a more gracious reply. But, as if scorn had been the influenza of the female mind that morning, she answered, "No; indeed she would not have it after it had been refused by every body else." "Nay, nay," said I; "it is as much in your character to accept, as it was in their's to refuse." While I was speaking she took a pinch of snuff; the nasal titillation co-operated with my speech, for when any one of the senses is pleased, the rest are not likely to continue out of humour. "Well," she replied, "I will have it dedicated to me, because I shall delight in the book." And she powdered the carpet with tobacco dust as she spake.

CONCERNING DEDICATIONS, PRINTERS TYPES AND IMPERIAL INK.

LA PRETIEUSE.

Monsieur Dellon, having been in the Inquisition at Goa, dedicated an account of that tribunal, and of his own sufferings to Mademoiselle Du Cambout de Coislin, in these words:

This is the book which that good man Claudius Buchanan with so much propriety put into the hands of the Grand Inquisitor of India, when he paid him a visit at the Inquisition, and asked him his opinion of the accuracy of the relation upon the spot!

The Frenchman's compliment may truly be said to have been far-fetched and dearly bought. Heaven forefend that I should either go so far for one, or purchase it at such a price!

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