O. T. a Danish Romance
Andersen, Hans Christian, 1805-1875
English
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Below is a summary of O. T. a Danish Romance
O. T.
A Danish Romance
by Hans Christian Andersen
Author of the "Improvisatore" and the "Two Baronesses"
CHAPTER I
"Quod felix faustumque sit!"
There is a happiness which no poet has yet properly sung, which no
lady-reader, let her be ever so amiable, has experienced or ever
will experience in this world. This is a condition of happiness
which alone belongs to the male sex, and even then alone to the
elect. It is a moment of life which seizes upon our feelings,
our minds, our whole being. Tears have been shed by the innocent,
sleepless nights been passed, during which the pious mother, the
loving sister, have put up prayers to God for this critical moment
in the life of the son or the brother.
Happy moment, which no woman, let her be ever so good, so
beautiful, or intellectual, can experience--that of becoming a
student, or, to describe it by a more usual term, the passing of
the first examination!
The cadet who becomes an officer, the scholar who becomes an
academical burgher, the apprentice who becomes a journeyman, all
know, in a greater or less degree, this loosening of the wings,
this bounding over the limits of maturity into the lists of
philosophy. We all strive after a wider field, and rush thither
like the stream which at length loses itself in the ocean.
Then for the first time does the youthful soul rightly feel her
freedom, and, therefore, feels it doubly; the soul struggles for
activity, she comprehends her individuality; it has been proved and
not found too light; she is still in possession of the dreams of
childhood, which have not yet proved delusive. Not even the joy of
love, not the enthusiasm for art and science, so thrills through
all the nerves as the words, "Now am I a student!"
This spring-day of life, on which the ice-covering of the school is
broken, when the tree of Hope puts forth its buds and the sun of
Freedom shines, falls with us, as is well known, in the month of
October, just when Nature loses her foliage, when the evenings
begin to grow darker, and when heavy winter-clouds draw together,
as though they would say to youth,--"Your spring, the birth of the
examination, is only a dream! even now does your life become
earnest!" But our happy youths think not of these things, neither
will we be joyous with the gay, and pay a visit to their circle. In
such a one our story takes its commencement.
CHAPTER II
"At last we separate:
To Jutland one, to Funen others go;
And still the quick thought comes,
--A day so bright, so full of fun,
Never again on us shall rise."--CARL BAGGER.
It was in October of the year 1829. Examen artium had been passed
through. Several young students were assembled in the evening at
the abode of one of their comrades, a young Copenhagener of
eighteen, whose parents were giving him and his new friends a
banquet in honor of the examination. The mother and sister had
arranged everything in the nicest manner, the father had given
excellent wine out of the cellar, and the student himself, here the
rex convivii, had provided tobacco, genuine Oronoko-canaster. With
regard to Latin, the invitation--which was, of course, composed in
Latin--informed the guests that each should bring his own.
The company, consisting of one and twenty persons--and these were
only the most intimate friends--was already assembled. About one
third of the friends were from the provinces, the remainder out of
Copenhagen.
"Old Father Homer shall stand in the middle of the table!" said one
of the liveliest guests, whilst he took down from the stove a
plaster bust and placed it upon the covered table.
"Yes, certainly, he will have drunk as much as the other poets!"
said an older one. "Give me one of thy exercise-books, Ludwig! I
will cut him out a wreath of vine-leaves, since we have no roses
and since I cannot cut out any."
"I have no libation!" cried a third,--"Favete linguis." And he
sprinkled a small quantity of salt, from the point of a knife, upon
the bust, at the same time raising his glass to moisten it with a
few drops of wine.
"Do not use my Homer as you would an ox!" cried the host. "Homer
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