|
"I want to become something!" declared the oldest of five
brothers. "I want to do something useful in this world. It
does not matter whether I reach a high position, so long as
the work that I have done has been done well. I want to make
bricks--the world can't get along without them--and then I
can say I have done something!"
|
"Jeg vil være Noget!"
sagde den Ældste af fem Brødre, "jeg vil være til Nytte i Verden;
lad det være nok saa ringe en Stilling, kun at det er godt,
det jeg udretter, saa er det Noget. Jeg vil lave Muursteen,
dem kan man ikke undvære! saa har jeg dog gjort Noget!" |
| "But much too little,"
said the second brother. "The work you want to do is nothing;
it is unskilled, the kind of work a machine could do just as
well. No, it is better to become a mason, that's what I shall
become. That is a trade. Masons have their own
guild and are honorable citizens of the town; they have their
own banner and a guildhall where they meet. Maybe
I can become a master mason and have other masons work for me;
and my wife will be able to wear a silk dress on weekdays." |
"Men noget altfor lidt!"
sagde den anden Broder, "det Du gjør, er saa godt som Ingenting;
det er Haandlanger-Arbeide, kan udrettes ved Maskine. Nei saa
heller blive Murer, det er dog Noget, det vil jeg være. Det
er en Stand! ved den kommer man ind under Laugene, bliver Borger,
har sin egen Fane og sin egen Kro; ja,
gaaer det godt, kan jeg holde Svende, bliver kaldet Mester og
min Kone bliver Mesterinde; det er Noget!" |
| "That is nothing!" declared
the third brother. "You will belong to the lower middle class
at best. There are many classes in our society and most of them
are above a master mason's. You will still belong to what is
called the 'common people.' No, I want to become something better
than that! I want to be a builder, construct houses; be concerned
about art and beauty, and belong to the intellectuals. I know
I have to start from the bottom. I might as well face it: I
have to learn carpentry first, and that means I shall have to
be an apprentice, wear a cap on my head instead of a silk hat,
and run errands for the journeymen--and they are not polite.
But I will just make believe that I am taking part in a masquerade,
for you gain freedom by wearing a mask. Then when I have finished
my apprenticeship I shall forget those simple fellows and their
insults. I shall attend the academy and learn to draw, and then
I shall become an architect. And that, I know, is something!
I can become respectable and be entitled to be called 'Sir.'
I shall build houses like our fathers did, solid and sturdy
buildings. That is something!" |
"Det er slet Ingenting!"
sagde den Tredie, "det er udenfor Classerne og der er mange
Classer i en By, langt over Mesters! Du kan være en brav Mand,
men Du er som Mester dog kun hvad man kalder "simpel"! nei,
saa veed jeg noget Bedre! jeg vil være Bygmester, træde ind
paa det Kunstneriske, det Tænkende, komme op til de Høierestaaende
i Aandens Rige; vel maa jeg begynde nede fra, ja, jeg kan gjerne
sige det lige reent ud: jeg maa begynde, som Tømmerdreng, gaae
med Kasket, skjønt jeg er vant til at gaae med Silkehat, løbe
for de simple Svende at hente Øl og Brændeviin, og de sige Du
til mig, det er graverende! men jeg vil bilde mig ind, at det
Hele er en Maskerade, det er Maske-Frihed! imorgen - det vil
sige, naar jeg er Svend, gaaer jeg min Vei, de Andre komme ikke
mig ved! jeg gaaer paa Academiet, lærer at tegne, kaldes Architekt-!
det er Noget! det er Meget! jeg kan blive Høiædle og Velbyrdige,
ja lidt til baade for og bag, og jeg bygger og bygger, ligesom
de Andre før mig! det er altid Noget man kan stole paa! det
Hele er Noget!" |
| "If that is something,
then I don't care for it!" said the fourth brother. "I don't
want to sail in the wake of other ships, copy what others have
already made. I want to be a genius! I want to be cleverer than
all the rest of you put together! I will invent a new style,
make buildings that fit our climate. I shall use new materials,
give expression to our national spirit and the new age! On the
very top of my largest building I shall put an extra story,
just to prove my own genius." |
"Men det Noget bryder
jeg mig ikke om!" sagde den Fjerde, "jeg vil ikke gaae i Kjølvand,
ikke være Copi, jeg vil være Geni, være dygtigere end I Alle
tilsammen! jeg skaber en ny Stiil, giver Ideen til en Bygning,
passende for Landets Klimat og Materiale, Landets Nationalitet,
vor Tidsalders Udvikling og saa een Etage til for mit eget Geni!"
|
| "But what if neither
the style nor the materials are any good?" asked the fifth brother.
"That wouldn't do, would it? As for the national spirit, that
is affectation. A new age! Bah! What does that mean? Progress
is as often as not a runaway horse, just like youth. I see that
none of you will ever become something, even though you all
think you will. But you can do whatever you want to, it is no
concern of mine. I shan't copy you. I want to stand apart. I
will contemplate and criticize what you do. There is always
something wrong with anything man makes. I shall point it out
so all can see it. That is something!" |
"Men naar nu Klimatet
og Materialet ikke duer!" sagde den Femte, "det vil være slemt,
for det har Indvirkning! Nationaliteten kan ogsaa let blive
saa udvidet, at den bliver affecteret, Tidsalderens Udvikling
kan lade Dig løbe løbsk, som tidt Ungdommen løber. Jeg seer
nok, at Ingen af Eder bliver egentligt til Noget, ihvor meget
I selv troe det! Men gjør som I ville, jeg skal ikke ligne Eder,
jeg stiller mig udenfor, jeg vil raisonnere over, hvad I udrette!
der er altid noget Galt ved enhver Ting, det skal jeg pille
ud og omtale, det er Noget!" |
| He did exactly what
he had said he would do, and everyone said about the fifth brother:
"He is really something. He has got a good head on his shoulders
and can make something into nothing." It was especially the
latter that made him "something." |
Og det gjorde han, og
Folk sagde om den Femte: "Ham er der bestemt Noget ved! han
er et godt Hoved! men han gjør ikke Noget!" -Men derved var
han Noget. |
| That was a very short
story; and yet it will never end before the world does. |
See det er kun en lille
Historie, og dog faaer den ikke Ende saalænge Verden staaer!
|
| But what happened to
the five brothers? After all, what we have heard wasn't everything.
Well, listen and I will tell you more, it is almost a fairy
tale. |
Men blev der da ikke
Videre af de fem Brødre! det var jo ikke Noget! Hør videre,
det er et heelt Eventyr! |
| The oldest brother made
bricks and every finished brick brought him a little copper
coin. It wasn't worth much, but if you added them up they became
a silver coin, and if you knock on the door of the butcher,
the baker, or the tailor with such a coin, then their doors
open right away. As a matter of fact, there is hardly a door
in the whole world that a silver coin can't open; it is the
very best key. The bricks gave him what we call a living and
that is not so poor a reward; some of them were cracked or had
split in two, but even the broken bricks could be used. |
Den ældste Broder, som
lavede Muursteen, fornam, at fra hver Steen, naar den var færdig,
trillede en lille Skilling, kun af Kobber, men mange smaa Kobberskillinger,
lagt paa hinanden, blive til en blank Daler, og hvor man banker
paa med den, hos Bager, Slagter, Skrædder, ja hos dem Allesammen,
der flyver Døren op og man faaer, hvad man bruger; see, det
gav Muurstenene af sig; nogle gik vel i Brokker eller midt over,
men de kom ogsaa til Brug. |
| There was a poor woman
called Mother Margrethe--"Mother" was the title that poor people
used to give to old women of whom they were fond. Well, Mother
Margrethe wanted to build a house for herself down at the shore,
on the dike. She got all the broken bricks free from the oldest
brother, who had a kind heart, even though he never rose above
being a brickmaker. The poor woman built her house herself.
Narrow it was, the window was crooked, the door was low, and
the thatch on the roof could have been laid better; but still
it was a house; and it kept out wind and weather, even when
the storms came and the waves broke against the dike, sending
showers of salt water up over the house. When the brickmaker
died, it was still standing. |
Oppe paa Diget vilde
Mo'er Margrethe, den fattige Kone, saa gjerne kline sig et lille
Huus; hun fik alle Stenbrokkerne og saa et Par Hele, for et
godt Hjerte havde den ældste Broder, om han i Gjerning kun drev
det til at gjøre Muursteen. Den fattige Kone reiste selv sit
Huus; smalt var det, det ene Vindue sad skjevt, Døren var altfor
lav, og Straataget kunde været lagt bedre, men Ly og Læ var
der og sees kunde der langt ud over Havet, der i sin Vælde brødes
mod Diget; de salte Draaber sprøitede over hele Huset, der endnu
stod, da han var død og borte der havde gjort Muurstenene. |
| The second brother--the
one who became a mason--knew his craft well. As soon as he had
finished his apprenticeship he packed his knapsack and set out
to see how life was led in foreign lands. |
Den anden Broder, ja
han kunde nu anderledes mure op, han var jo ogsaa oplært deri.
Da Svendestykket var leveret, snørte han sin Randsel og sang
Haandværkerens Vise: |
| |
"Jeg reise kan, mens jeg er ung Og ude hjemlig bygge, Mit
Haandværk er min Pengepung, Mit Ungdoms-Sind min Lykke!
Og seer jeg saa mit Fædreland, Jeg Kjæresten gav Ordet!
Hurra! en driftig Haandværksmand Faaer let Fod under Bordet!"
|
| When he returned, he
set himself up as a master mason and built a whole street full
of houses; then all the houses, in turn, built a small house
for him. But how can houses build a house? If you ask them,
they won't answer; so ask instead the people in any town and
they will tell you how it is done. It was a small house with
an earthen floor, but when the master mason swung his bride
in a dance across it, it got polished. Every stone in the wall
seemed to the mason and his wife as pretty as a flower, and
they thought that whitewash was as beautiful as the finest wallpaper.
It was a lovely little house and a happy couple who lived there.
The banner of the guild hung outside, and on their wedding day
the apprentices and journeymen had shouted, "Hurrah!" Yes, that
was something. Finally he died; and that was something too. |
Og det gjorde han. Inde
i Byen, da han kom tilbage og blev Mester, murede han op Huus
ved Huus, en heel Gade; da den stod saae godt ud og gav Byen
Anseelse, saa byggede Husene for ham et lille Huus, der skulde
være hans eget; men hvorledes kunde Husene bygge? Ja spørg dem
ad, og de svare ikke, men Folk svare og sige: "jo vist har den
Gade bygget ham hans Huus!" lille var det og med Leergulv, men
da han med sin Brud dandsede henover det, blev Gulvet blankt
og bonet, og fra hver Steen i Væggen sprang en Blomst, det var
ligesaa godt som et kostbart Betræk. Det var et yndigt Huus
og et lyksaligt Ægtepar. Laugsfanen vaiede udenfor og Svende
og Læredrenge raabte: Hurra! jo, det var Noget! og saa døde
han, det var ogsaa Noget! |
| Now we come to the architect,
the third brother--the one who first had to be a carpenter's
apprentice, wear a cap, and run errands. He graduated from the
academy and became a master builder. Now the houses on the street
that had built a small house for the brother who had become
a mason built a big one, the largest in the street, for the
architect; and not only that, but the street itself bore his
name. That was something and he had become something. He had
a title both in front and behind his name; his children were
called "children of good family" and when he died his widow
became "a widow of good family." That is something! His name
can still be read on the street sign and that, too, is something!
|
Nu kom Architekten,
den tredie Broder, som først havde været Tømmer-Lærling, gaaet
med Kasket og løbet By-Ærinder, men fra Academiet var steget
til Bygmester, "høiædle og velbyrdige"! ja havde Husene i Gaden
bygget et Huus for Bro deren, der var Muurmester, saa fik nu
Gaden Navn efter denne, og det smukkeste Huus i Gaden blev hans,
det var Noget og han var Noget - og det med en lang Titel for
og bag; hans Børn kaldtes fornemme Børn, og da han døde var
hans Enke en Enke af Stand - det er Noget! og hans Navn stod
stadigt paa Gadehjørnet og var i Folkemunde, som Gadenavn -
ja det er Noget! |
| Then there was the fourth
brother, the genius, who wanted to build something new and different,
with an extra story. Well, it fell down; and so did he, and
broke his neck. But he got a splendid funeral, with both guild
banners and music in the funeral procession, and flowers on
the coffin, as well as in the newspaper. Three funeral sermons
were held over him, one longer than the other, and that would
have made him happy, for he loved to be talked about. He got
a monument on his grave; it was only one story, but still it
was something. |
Saa kom Geniet, den
fjerde Broder, der vilde finde paa noget Nyt, noget Aparte og
een Etage til, men den knak af for ham og han faldt ned og brak
Halsen, - men han fik en deilig Begravelse med Laugs-Faner og
Musik, Blomster i Avisen og paa Gaden hen over Brolægningen;
og der blev holdt tre Liigtaler over ham, den ene meget længer
end den anden, og det vilde have fornøiet ham, for han holdt
meget af at tales om; der kom et Monument paa Graven, kun een
Etage, men det er altid Noget! |
| Now four of the brothers
had died, the only surviving one was the critic. He had the
last word, and that was very important to him. He had a good
head on his shoulders, as everybody said; but at last he too
died and was on his way to heaven. Now people always enter heaven
in pairs, that is the custom. And that's how the fifth brother
happened to be standing before the heavenly gate with another
soul, who hoped to be able to enter paradise. And who should
that be but old Mother Margrethe, who had built her little house
down on the dike. |
Nu var han død, ligesom
de tre andre Brødre, men den Sidste, han, som raisonnerede,
overlevede dem Allesammen, og det var jo det Rette, for saa
havde han det sidste Ord og det var ham af stor Vigtighed at
have det sidste Ord. Han var jo det gode Hoved! sagde Folk.
Nu slog ogsaa hans Time, han døde og kom til Himmeriges Port.
Her komme altid To og To! her stod han med en anden Sjæl, der
ogsaa gjerne vilde ind, og det var netop den gamle Mo'er Margrethe
fra Digehuset. |
| "I suppose it is for
the sake of the contrast that this poor miserable soul and I
have to wait here together," thought the critic. "Who are you?
Poor thing, do you want to enter too?" he asked. |
"Det er nok for Contrastens
Skyld, at jeg og den usselige Sjæl skal komme her paa eengang!"
sagde Raisonneuren. "Naa, hvem er Hun, Mo'erlille? Vil Hun ogsaa
ind her!" spurgte han. |
| The old lady curtsied
as well as she knew how. She thought that St. Peter himself
was speaking to her. "I am just a poor old woman without any
family: old Margrethe from the house down by the dike." |
Og den gamle Kone neiede
saa godt hun kunde, hun troede, det var Sanct Peder selv, der
talte. "Jeg er en sølle Stakkel, uden al Familie! gamle Margrethe
fra Digehuset!" |
| "Hm, and what have you
accomplished down there?" |
"Naa, hvad har Hun gjort
og udrettet dernede?" |
| "Accomplished? Nothing,
I guess," answered old Mother Margrethe, "nothing that can open
this portal for me. It will only be because of God's grace if
I am allowed in." |
"Jeg har saamænd slet
ikke udrettet Noget i denne Verden! ikke Noget, der kan lukke
op for mig her! det er en sand Naadens Gjerning, om jeg faaer
Lov at komme indenfor Døren!" |
| "And why did you have
to leave the world?" asked the critic just to make conversation;
he was bored with waiting. |
"Hvorledes har Hun forladt
denne Verden?" spurgte han, for at tale om Noget, da det kjedede
ham at staae der og vente. |
| "Exactly why I don't
know," answered the old woman. "I have been ill for the last
two years; and I guess the cold and the frost killed me, while
I lay outside, after I had climbed out of my bed. It was a hard
winter this year; but now I don't feel any pains at all. You
remember, sir, the two bitterly cold days we had. Not a wind
moved and the sea froze as far as you could see. Everyone from
town came down to look at it, and they skated on the ice. I
think they danced, too, for I could hear music. They were selling
beer out there. I could hear all the rumpus right up in my room,
where I lay in my bed. It was toward evening; the full moon
was out, but it was kind of pale and weak yet. My bed stood
right by the window and I could look down on the beach and out
on the ice. Suddenly I noticed that out where the sky and the
sea met there was a strange white cloud. I was lying there watching
it and I noticed that a little black point in the center of
it kept growing bigger and bigger. And I knew what that meant.
"I have lived a long time and experienced much, but it is not
often you see such a cloud. I knew what it meant and it filled
me with horror. Twice before in my life had I seen the same
sign in the sky. I knew that it forewarned a storm, and that
the spring tide would be coming. It would catch all the poor
people out there on the ice by surprise, in the midst of their
gaiety and drinking. The young and the old, it looked like the
whole town were out there. How could they be warned? I think
none of them knew what that white cloud with the black center
meant even if they had seen it. I was so frightened that some
of my strength came back to me. I got to the window and managed
to open it, and then I could do no more. I could see all the
people on the ice. Some of them had gone out far. The booth
that sold beer had little flags around it and all the children
were screaming and shouting, and the young men and girls were
singing. It was a gay scene, but behind them rose the white
cloud with the black spot looking like a big bag inside it.
"I shouted as loud as I could; but no one heard me, they were
too far away. Soon the storm would come, the ice would break,
and everyone out there would drown; not one of them would be
saved. They could not hear me, and I had not the strength to
walk even as far as the beach. How could I manage to get them
to shore? Then God gave me the idea that I could set fire to
the straw in my bed; it was better that my poor house should
bum than that all those people should die. I lit a candle and
set the straw on fire. A great red flame shot up and I managed
to get outside the house, but then I fell. The flame followed
me out the door and caught hold of the thatch. The people out
on the ice saw it and they all came running to help me, for
they thought that I might be inside the burning house. Not one
of them stayed behind. I heard them running, and I heard the
storm coming, too; it made such a great stir in the air. Then
came the terrible sound of the ice breaking: it was like great
cannons shooting. The spring tide lifted the ice and broke it
into splinters. But everyone had got ashore. People were running
up on the dike, where I lay amid the sparks from the fire. They
were safe, but I think the fright and the cold must have been
too much for me. And here I am at the gate of heaven. They say
that it also opens for the wretched, like me. And now I don't
have a house any more; not that that would help me gain admittance
here." |
"Ja, hvordan jeg forlod
den, det veed jeg ikke! syg og daarlig var jeg jo i de sidste
Aaringer, og saa har jeg vel ikke kunnet taale at krybe ud af
Sengen og komme i Frost og Kulde derudenfor. Det er jo en haard
Vinter, men nu har jeg da forvundet det. Det var et Par Dage
blikstille, men bitterlig koldt, som Deres Velærværdighed nok
veed, Isen havde lagt til saalangt ud i Stranden, man kunde
øine; alle Folk fra Byen toge ud paa Isen; der var, hvad de
kalde Skridtskoe-Løben og Dands, troer jeg, der var fuld Musik
og Beværtning derude; jeg kunde høre det lige ind, hvor jeg
laae i min fattige Stue. Da var det saadanne hen mod Aftenstid,
Maanen var oppe, men den var ikke endnu kommet til Kræfter,
jeg saae fra min Seng gjennem Vinduet heelt ud over Stranden,
og der lige i Kanten af Himmel og Hav kom en underlig hvid Sky;
jeg laae og saae paa den, saae paa den sorte Prik midt i, der
blev større og større; og saa vidste jeg hvad det betød; jeg
er gammel og erfaren, skjøndt det Tegn seer man ikke ofte. Jeg
kjendte det og fik en Gru! jeg har to Gange forud i min Levetid
seet den Ting komme, og vidste, at der vilde blive en forfærdelig
Storm med Springflod, der vilde komme over de arme Mennesker
derude, som nu drak og sprang og jubilerede; Unge og Gamle,
den hele By var jo derude, hvem skulde vare dem, hvis Ingen
der saae og kjendte, hvad jeg nu kjendte. Jeg blev saa ræd,
jeg blev saa levende, som ikke i mange Tider! ud af Sengen kom
jeg og hen til Vinduet, længer kunde jeg ikke orke; Vinduet
fik jeg dog op, jeg kunde see Menneskene løbe og springe derude
paa Isen, see de pyntelige Flag, høre, hvor Drengene raabte
Hurra, og Piger og Karle sang, det gik lystigt til, men høiere
og høiere steeg den hvide Sky med den sorte Pose i! jeg raabte
Alt hvad jeg kunde, men Ingen hørte mig, jeg var for langt derfra.
Snart vilde Veiret bryde løs, Isen gaae istykker og Alle derude
synke igjennem uden Frelse. Høre mig kunde de ikke, naae ud
til dem mægtede jeg ikke; kunde jeg dog faae dem i Land! Da
gav vor Herre mig den Tanke at stikke Ild i min Seng, heller
lade Huset brænde af, end at de Mange saa ynkeligt skulle døe.
Jeg fik Lyset tændt, saae den røde Flamme - ja, jeg naaede ud
af Døren, men der blev jeg liggende, jeg kunde ikke mere; Luen
stod ud efter mig og ud af Vinduet, hen over Taget; de saae
den derude fra og de løb Alle, hvad de kunde, for at hjelpe
mig arme Stakkel, som de troede brændte inde; der var ikke Een,
som jo løb afsted; jeg hørte de kom, men jeg hørte ogsaa, hvor
det med Eet susede i Luften; jeg hørte det dundrede som svære
Kanonskud, Springfloden løftede Isen, der brødes itu; men til
Diget naaede de, hvor Gnisterne fløi hen over mig; jeg fik dem
Alle i Behold; men jeg har ikke maattet kunne taale Kulden og
den Forskrækkelse, og saa er jeg kommet herop til Himmeriges
Port; de sige, den bliver lukket op ogsaa for saadan en Stakkel,
som jeg! og nu har jeg jo ingen Huus mere dernede paa Diget,
dog det giver mig da ingen Adgang her." |
| Just at that moment
the gates of heaven opened and an angel came out to lead the
poor old woman inside. A straw from her bed, the one she had
set fire to in order to save the people out on the ice, fell
from her skirt. It was immediately changed into the purest gold;
and the golden straw grew and became the prettiest piece of
art work. |
Da aabnede sig Himmeriges
Port og Engelen førte den gamle Kone ind; hun tabte et Sengehalm
udenfor, et af de Straa, der havde ligget i hendes Seng, den
hun tændte for at frelse de Mange, og det var blevet til det
pure Guld, men et Guld, der voxede og slyngede sig i de deiligste
Forsiringer. |
| "Look at what the poor
woman brought," said the angel to the critic. "What have you
brought? I know you never have accomplished anything, you have
never even made a brick. If you only could go back and fetch
one, and then bring it as a gift. Oh, I know it would be badly
made, but if you had done the best you could, it would at least
be something. But you can't return and I can't do anything for
you!" |
"See, det bragte den
fattige Kone!" sagde Engelen. "Hvad bringer nu Du? Ja, jeg veed
nok, Du har Ingenting udrettet, ikke engang lavet en Muursteen;
kunde Du bare gaae tilbage igjen og bringe idetmindste saameget;
den duede sagtens ikke, naar Du havde gjort den, dog gjort med
en god Villie, det var altid Noget; men Du kan ikke gaae tilbage,
og jeg kan ikke gjøre Noget for Dig!" |
| The poor old woman,
Margrethe from the little house on the dike, pleaded for him.
"His brother gave me all his broken bricks so that I could build
my house. Those broken pieces meant an awful lot to me then.
Can't they count now as one whole brick, for his sake? It would
be a merciful act and this is the home of mercy." |
Da bad den fattige Sjæl,
Konen fra Digehuset, for ham: "hans Broder har gjort og givet
mig alle Steen og Stumper, hvoraf jeg klinede mit usselige Huus,
det var grumme meget for mig arme Stakkel! kan nu ikke alle
de Stumper og Stykker gjælde som een Muursteen for ham? Det
er en Naadens Gjerning! nu trænger han til den og her er jo
Naadens Hjem!" |
| "Your brother, the one
whom you deemed the poorest among you," said the angel, "he
whose honest work you considered low, gives you now a beggar's
coin. You shall not be turned away, you shall be allowed to
stand here outside and think about your life down on earth.
But enter you cannot before you have done one good deed--at
least something!" |
"Din Broder, den, Du
kaldte den Ringeste," sagde Engelen, "den, hvis Dont i al Ærlighed
var Dig nedrigst, giver Dig sin Himmeriges-Skjerv. Du skal ikke
vises bort, Du skal have Lov til at staae herudenfor og tænke
over, see at ophjelpe dit Liv dernede, men ind kommer Du ikke,
før Du i god Gjerning har udrettet - Noget!" |
| "I could have expressed
that better," thought the critic, but he didn't say it out loud
and that was already something. |
"Det kunde jeg have
sagt bedre!" tænkte Raisonneuren, men han sagde det ikke høit,
og det var nok allerede Noget. |
|