Chapter 2 - Page 2

had been
performed in Odense by the royal company, and the principal characters
had so greatly taken my fancy, that I could play the part perfectly
from memory. In the mean time I asked her permission to take off my
boots, otherwise I was not light enough for this character; and then
taking up my broad hat for a tambourine, I began to dance and sing,--

"Here below, nor rank nor riches, Are exempt from pain and woe."

My strange gestures and my great activity caused the lady to think me
out of my mind, and she lost no time in getting rid of me.

From her I went to the manager of the theatre, to ask for an
engagement. He looked at me, and said that I was "too thin for the
theatre."

"Oh," replied I, "if you will only engage me with one hundred rix
dollars banco salary, then I shall soon get fat!" The manager bade me
gravely go my way, adding, that they only engaged people of education.

I stood there deeply wounded. I knew no one in all Copenhagen who could
give me either counsel or consolation. I thought of death as being the
only thing, and the best thing for me; but even then my thoughts rose
upwards to God, and with all the undoubting confidence of a child in
his father, they riveted themselves upon Him. I wept bitterly, and then
I said to myself, "When everything happens really miserably, then he
sends help. I have always read so. People must first of all suffer a
great deal before they can bring anything to accomplishment."

I now went and bought myself a gallery-ticket for the opera of Paul and
Virginia. The separation of the lovers affected me to such a degree,
that I burst into violent weeping. A few women, who sat near me,
consoled me by saying that it was only a play, and nothing to trouble
oneself about; and then they gave me a sausage sandwich. I had the
greatest confidence in everybody, and therefore I told them, with the
utmost openness, that I did not really weep about Paul and Virginia,
but because I regarded the theatre as my Virginia, and that if I must
be separated from it, I should be just as wretched as Paul. They looked
at me, and seemed not to understand my meaning. I then told them why I
had come to Copenhagen, and how forlorn I was there. One of the women,
therefore, gave me more, bread and butter, with fruit and cakes.

On the following morning I paid my bill, and to my infinite trouble I
saw that my whole wealth consisted in one rix dollar banco. It was
necessary, therefore, either that I should find some vessel to take me
home, or put myself to work with some handicraftsman. I considered that
the last was the wiser of the two, because, if I returned to Odense, I
must there also put myself to work of a