Modern Swedish Masterpieces: Short StoriesHeidenstam, Verner von
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Modern Swedish Masterpieces: Short Stories
Heidenstam, Verner von
Short stories, Swedish -- Translations into English; Swedish fiction -- Translations into English
Then I gathered the fragments of my understanding as a miser his coins,
for I believed that, if I could catch the czar in a gracious and mild
humour, I might perhaps save my Feodosova.
“Well, then, Imperial Majesty,” I continued, therefore, lifting one of
the bowls on high “this is Astrakan ale, brewed of mead and brandy with
pepper and tobacco. It burns much before it delights, and when it
delights it puts one to sleep.”
With that I threw the bowl to the ground so that it broke in a thousand
pieces. Then I lifted the next bowl.
“This is Hungarian wine. ‘Drink no more only water,’ writes the Apostle
Paul to Timothy, ‘but use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake and
because thou art so often sick.’ So speaks a holy one to weakly men and
stay-at-homes. But go out on the battle-field amid frost and wailing and
tell me: To how many of the groaning would this bowl of sweetish wine
give relief from pain and a softer death?”
Therewith I threw that bowl also to the ground so that it broke. Then I
lifted the third bowl.
“This is brandy. It is despised by the fortunate and the rich, because
they thirst not after refreshment as the desert for coolness, but would
only gibe at the pleasure it gives. But brandy assumes power in the very
moment it swims over the tongue, like a despot in the moment he steps
across a threshold, and the bleeding and dying draw comfort from a few
drops.”
“Right, right!” acclaimed the czar, and took the bowl and drank it, at
the same time that he handed me two gold-pieces, while the pistols
cracked. “You shall have a pass and a horse to go your way, and wherever
you come, you shall tell about Poltava.”
Then I knelt yet again in the straw and stammered: “Imperial Majesty--in
my pettiness and weakness--beside you sits a--a pure and good woman.”
“Haha!” screamed the dwarfs and Boyars and tottered to their feet.
“Haha! haha!”
The czar got up and carried Feodosova toward me.
“I understand. He who limps on a wooden leg may fall in love, too. Good.
I present her to you as she goes and stands, and you shall have a good
situation with me. I have promised every Swede who enters into my
service and is baptized in our faith that he shall become one of our
people.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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