Dubliners | Gradually Hardening German B2

Dubliners | Gradually Hardening German B2

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THESISTERS
Therewasnohopeforhimthistime:
itwasthethird
schlaganfall
stroke
.
NightafternightIhadpassedthehouse(itwasvacationtime)andstudiedthelightedsquareofwindow:
andnightafternightIhadfounditlightedinthesameway,faintlyandevenly.
Ifhewasdead,Ithought,IwouldseethereflectionofcandlesonthedarkenedblindforIknewthattwocandlesmustbesetattheheadofa
leiche
corpse
.
Hehadoftensaidtome:
“Iamnotlongforthisworld,”andIhadthoughthiswords
müßig
idle
.
NowIknewtheyweretrue.
EverynightasIgazedupatthewindowIsaid
leise
softly
tomyselftheword
lähmung
paralysis
.
Ithadalwayssounded
seltsam
strangely
inmyears,likethewordgnomonintheEuclidandthewordsimonyintheCatechism.
Butnowitsoundedtomelikethenameofsomemaleficentandsinfulbeing.
Itfilledmewithfear,andyetIlongedtobe
näher
nearer
toitandtolookuponitsdeadlywork.
OldCotterwassittingatthefire,smoking,whenIcamedownstairsto
abendessen
supper
.
Whilemyauntwasladlingoutmystirabouthesaid,asifreturningtosomeformer
bemerkung
remark
ofhis:.
“No,Iwouldn’tsayhewasexactly...
buttherewassomethingqueer...
therewassomethinguncannyabouthim.
I’lltellyoumyopinion....”
Hebegantopuffathis
pfeife
pipe
,nodoubtarranginghisopinioninhismind.
Tiresomeoldfool!
Whenweknewhimfirstheusedtoberatherinteresting,talkingoffaintsandworms;
butIsoongrewtiredofhimandhisendlessstoriesaboutthedistillery.
“Ihavemyowntheoryaboutit,”hesaid.
“Ithinkitwasoneofthose...
peculiarcases....
Butit’shardtosay....”
Hebegantopuffagainathis
pfeife
pipe
withoutgivingushistheory.
Myunclesawme
starrt
staring
andsaidtome:.
“Well,soyouroldfriendisgone,you’llbesorrytohear.”
“Who?”
saidI.
“FatherFlynn.”
“Ishedead?”
“MrCotterherehasjusttoldus.
Hewaspassingbythehouse.”
IknewthatIwasunderobservationsoIcontinuedeatingasifthenewshadnotinterestedme.
MyuncleexplainedtooldCotter.
“Theyoungsterandheweregreatfriends.
Theoldchaptaughthimagreatdeal,mindyou;
andtheysayhehadagreatwishforhim.”
“Godhavemercyonhissoul,”saidmyauntpiously.
OldCotterlookedatmeforawhile.
Ifeltthathislittlebeadyblackeyeswere
untersuchten
examining
mebutIwouldnot
befriedigen
satisfy
himbylookingupfrommyplate.
Hereturnedtohis
pfeife
pipe
andfinallyspatrudelyintothegrate.
“Iwouldn’tlikechildrenofmine,”hesaid,“tohavetoomuchtosaytoamanlikethat.”
“Howdoyoumean,MrCotter?”
askedmyaunt.
“WhatImeanis,”saidoldCotter,“it’sbadforchildren.
Myideais:
letayoungladrunaboutandplaywithyoungladsofhisownageandnotbe....
AmIright,Jack?”
“That’smyprinciple,too,”saidmyuncle.
“Lethimlearntoboxhiscorner.
That’swhatI’malwayssayingtothatRosicrucianthere:
takeexercise.
Why,whenIwasanippereverymorningofmylifeIhadacoldbath,winterandsummer.
Andthat’swhatstandstomenow.
Educationisallveryfineandlarge....
MrCottermighttakeapickofthatlegmutton,”headdedtomyaunt.
“No,no,notforme,”saidoldCotter.
Myauntbroughtthe
gericht
dish
fromthesafeandputitonthetable.
“Butwhydoyouthinkit’snotgoodforchildren,MrCotter?”
sheasked.
“It’sbadforchildren,”saidoldCotter,“becausetheirmindsaresoimpressionable.
Whenchildrenseethingslikethat,youknow,ithasaneffect....”
I
stopfte
crammed
mymouthwithstiraboutforfearImightgiveutterancetomyanger.
Tiresomeoldred-nosedimbecile!
ItwaslatewhenIfellasleep.
ThoughIwasangrywitholdCotterforalludingtomeasachild,Ipuzzledmyheadtoextractmeaningfromhisunfinishedsentences.
InthedarkofmyroomIimaginedthatIsawagaintheheavygreyfaceoftheparalytic.
IdrewtheblanketsovermyheadandtriedtothinkofChristmas.
Butthegreyfacestillfollowedme.
Itmurmured;
andIunderstoodthatitdesiredto
gestehen
confess
something.
Ifeltmysoulrecedingintosomepleasantandvicious
region
region
;
andthereagainIfounditwaitingforme.
Itbeganto
gestehen
confess
tomeinamurmuringvoiceandIwonderedwhyitsmiled
ständig
continually
andwhythelipswereso
feucht
moist
withspittle.
ButthenIrememberedthatithaddiedof
lähmung
paralysis
andIfeltthatItoowassmilingfeeblyasiftoabsolvethesimoniacofhissin.
ThenextmorningafterbreakfastIwentdowntolookatthelittlehouseinGreatBritainStreet.
Itwasanunassumingshop,
eingetragen
registered
underthevaguenameofDrapery.
Thedraperyconsisted
hauptsächlich
mainly
ofchildren’sbooteesandumbrellas;
andonordinarydaysanoticeusedtohanginthewindow,saying:
UmbrellasRe-covered.
Nonoticewas
sichtbar
visible
nowfortheshutterswereup.
Acrapebouquetwastiedtothedoor-knockerwith
band
ribbon
.
Twopoorwomenandatelegramboywerereadingthecardpinnedonthecrape.
Ialsoapproachedandread:.
Juli
July
1st,1895TheRev.JamesFlynn(formerlyofS.Catherine’sChurch,MeathStreet),agedsixty-fiveyears.R.I.P.
Thereadingofthecard
überzeugte
persuaded
methathewasdeadandIwasdisturbedtofindmyselfatcheck.
HadhenotbeendeadIwouldhavegoneintothelittledarkroombehindtheshoptofindhimsittinginhisarm-chairbythefire,nearlysmotheredinhisgreat-coat.
Perhapsmyauntwouldhavegivenmea
paket
packet
ofHighToastforhimandthispresentwouldhaverousedhimfromhisstupefieddoze.
ItwasalwaysIwhoemptiedthe
paket
packet
intohisblacksnuff-boxforhishands
zitterten
trembled
toomuchtoallowhimtodothiswithoutspillinghalfthesnuffaboutthefloor.
Evenasheraisedhislargetremblinghandtohisnoselittlecloudsofsmokedribbledthroughhisfingersoverthefrontofhiscoat.
Itmayhavebeentheseconstantshowersofsnuffwhichgavehisancientpriestlygarmentstheirgreenfadedlookforthered
taschentuch
handkerchief
,blackened,asitalwayswas,withthesnuff-stainsofaweek,withwhichhetriedtobrushawaythefallengrains,wasquiteinefficacious.
IwishedtogoinandlookathimbutIhadnotthecouragetoknock.
Iwalkedawayslowlyalongthe
sonnigen
sunny
sideofthestreet,readingallthetheatricaladvertisementsintheshop-windowsasIwent.
IfounditstrangethatneitherInorthedayseemedinamourningmoodandIfeltevenannoyedatdiscoveringinmyselfa
gefühl
sensation
offreedomasifIhadbeenfreedfromsomethingbyhisdeath.
Iwonderedatthisfor,asmyunclehadsaidthenightbefore,hehadtaughtmeagreatdeal.
HehadstudiedintheIrishcollegeinRomeandhehadtaughtmetopronounceLatinproperly.
HehadtoldmestoriesaboutthecatacombsandaboutNapoleonBonaparte,andhehadexplainedtomethemeaningofthedifferentceremoniesoftheMassandofthedifferentvestmentswornbythepriest.
Sometimeshehadamusedhimselfbyputtingdifficultquestionstome,askingmewhatoneshoulddoincertaincircumstancesorwhethersuchandsuchsinsweremortalorvenialoronlyimperfections.
Hisquestionsshowedmehow
komplex
complex
andmysteriouswerecertaininstitutionsoftheChurchwhichIhadalways
angesehen
regarded
asthesimplestacts.
ThedutiesofthepriesttowardstheEucharistandtowardsthe
geheimhaltung
secrecy
oftheconfessionalseemedsogravetomethatIwonderedhowanybodyhadeverfoundinhimselfthecouragetoundertakethem;
andIwasnotsurprisedwhenhetoldmethatthefathersoftheChurchhadwrittenbooksasthickasthePostOfficeDirectoryandas
genau
closely
printedasthelawnoticesinthenewspaper,elucidatingalltheseintricatequestions.
OftenwhenIthoughtofthisIcouldmakenoansweroronlyaveryfoolishandhaltingoneuponwhichheusedtosmileandnodhisheadtwiceor
dreimal
thrice
.
SometimesheusedtoputmethroughtheresponsesoftheMasswhichhehadmademelearnbyheart;
and,asIpattered,heusedtosmilepensivelyandnodhishead,nowandthenpushinghugepinchesofsnuffupeachnostrilalternately.
Whenhesmiledheusedtouncoverhisbigdiscolouredteethandlethistonguelieuponhislowerlip—a
gewohnheit
habit
whichhadmademefeeluneasyinthebeginningofour
bekanntschaft
acquaintance
beforeIknewhimwell.
AsIwalkedalonginthesunIrememberedoldCotter’swordsandtriedtorememberwhathadhappenedafterwardsinthedream.
IrememberedthatIhadnoticedlongvelvetcurtainsandaswinging
lampe
lamp
ofantiquefashion.
IfeltthatIhadbeenveryfaraway,insomelandwherethecustomswerestrange—inPersia,Ithought....
ButIcouldnotremembertheendofthedream.
Intheeveningmyaunttookmewithhertovisitthehouseofmourning.
Itwasafter
sonnenuntergang
sunset
;
butthewindow-panesofthehousesthatlookedtothewestreflectedthetawnygoldofagreatbankofclouds.
Nanniereceivedusinthehall;
and,asitwouldhavebeenunseemlytohaveshoutedather,myauntshookhandswithherforall.
Theoldwomanpointedupwardsinterrogativelyand,onmyaunt’snodding,proceededtotoilupthenarrow
treppe
staircase
beforeus,herbowedheadbeingscarcelyabovethelevelofthebanister-rail.
Atthefirstlandingshestoppedandbeckonedusforwardencouraginglytowardstheopendoorofthedead-room.
Myauntwentinandtheoldwoman,seeingthatI
zögerte
hesitated
toenter,begantobeckontomeagainrepeatedlywithherhand.
Iwentinontiptoe.
Theroomthroughthelaceendoftheblindwassuffusedwithduskygoldenlightamidwhichthecandleslookedlikepalethin
flammen
flames
.
Hehadbeencoffined.
Nanniegavetheleadandwethreekneltdownatthefootofthebed.
IpretendedtopraybutIcouldnotgathermythoughtsbecausetheoldwoman’smutteringsdistractedme.
Inoticedhowclumsilyherskirtwashookedatthebackandhowtheheelsofherclothbootsweretroddendownalltooneside.
Thefancycametomethattheoldpriestwassmilingashelaythereinhis
sarg
coffin
.
Butno.WhenweroseandwentuptotheheadofthebedIsawthathewasnotsmiling.
Therehelay,
feierlich
solemn
andcopious,vestedasforthe
altar
altar
,hislargehandslooselyretainingachalice.
Hisfacewasverytruculent,
grau
grey
andmassive,withblackcavernousnostrilsandcircledbyascantywhitefur.
Therewasaheavyodourintheroom—theflowers.
Weblessedourselvesandcameaway.
InthelittleroomdownstairswefoundElizaseatedinhisarm-chairinstate.
IgropedmywaytowardsmyusualchairinthecornerwhileNanniewenttothesideboardandbroughtoutadecanterofsherryandsomewine-glasses.
Shesettheseonthetableandinvitedustotakealittleglassofwine.
Then,athersister’sbidding,shefilledoutthesherryintotheglassesandpassedthemtous.
ShepressedmetotakesomecreamcrackersalsobutIdeclinedbecauseIthoughtIwouldmaketoomuchnoiseeatingthem.
Sheseemedtobesomewhatdisappointedatmy
ablehnung
refusal
andwentoverquietlytothe
sofa
sofa
whereshesatdownbehindhersister.
Noonespoke:
weallgazedattheempty
kamin
fireplace
.
MyauntwaiteduntilElizasighedandthensaid:.
“Ah,well,he’sgonetoabetterworld.”
Elizasighedagainandbowedherheadinassent.
Myauntfingeredthe
stamm
stem
ofherwine-glassbeforesippingalittle.
“Didhe...
peacefully?”
sheasked.
“Oh,quitepeacefully,ma’am,”saidEliza.
“Youcouldn’ttellwhenthebreathwentoutofhim.
Hehadabeautifuldeath,Godbepraised.”
“Andeverything...?”
“FatherO’RourkewasinwithhimaTuesdayandanointedhimandpreparedhimandall.”
“Heknewthen?”
“Hewasquiteresigned.”
“Helooksquiteresigned,”saidmyaunt.
“That’swhatthewomanwehadintowashhimsaid.
Shesaidhejustlookedasifhewasasleep,helookedthatpeacefulandresigned.
Noonewouldthinkhe’dmakesuchabeautifulcorpse.”
“Yes,indeed,”saidmyaunt.
Shesippedalittlemorefromherglassandsaid:.
“Well,MissFlynn,atanyrateitmustbeagreat
trost
comfort
foryoutoknowthatyoudidallyoucouldforhim.
Youwerebothverykindtohim,Imustsay.”
Elizasmoothedherdressoverherknees.
“Ah,poorJames!”
shesaid.
“Godknowswedoneallwecould,aspoorasweare—wewouldn’tseehimwantanythingwhilehewasinit.”
Nanniehadleanedherheadagainstthesofa-pillowandseemedabouttofallasleep.
“There’spoorNannie,”saidEliza,lookingather,“she’sworeout.
Alltheworkwehad,sheandme,gettinginthewomantowashhimandthenlayinghimoutandthenthe
sarg
coffin
andthenarrangingabouttheMassinthe
kapelle
chapel
.
OnlyforFatherO’RourkeIdon’tknowwhatwe’dhavedoneatall.
Itwashimbroughtusallthemflowersandthemtwocandlesticksoutofthe
kapelle
chapel
andwroteoutthenoticefortheFreeman’sGeneralandtookchargeofallthepapersforthe
friedhof
cemetery
andpoorJames’sinsurance.”
“Wasn’tthatgoodofhim?”
saidmyaunt.
Elizaclosedhereyesandshookherheadslowly.
“Ah,there’snofriendsliketheoldfriends,”shesaid,“whenallissaidanddone,nofriendsthatabodycantrust.”
“Indeed,that’strue,”saidmyaunt.
“AndI’msurenowthathe’sgonetohis
ewigen
eternal
rewardhewon’tforgetyouandallyour
freundlichkeit
kindness
tohim.”
“Ah,poorJames!”
saidEliza.
“Hewasnogreattroubletous.
Youwouldn’thearhiminthehouseanymorethannow.
Still,Iknowhe’sgoneandalltothat....”
“It’swhenit’salloverthatyou’llmisshim,”saidmyaunt.
“Iknowthat,”saidEliza.
“Iwon’tbebringinghiminhiscupofbeef-teaanymore,noryou,ma’am,sendinghimhissnuff.
Ah,poorJames!”
Shestopped,asifshewerecommuningwiththepastandthensaidshrewdly:.
“Mindyou,Inoticedtherewassomethingqueercomingoverhimlatterly.
WheneverI’dbringinhissouptohimthereI’dfindhimwithhisbreviaryfallentothefloor,lyingbackinthechairandhismouthopen.”
Shelaidafingeragainsthernoseandfrowned:
thenshecontinued:.
“Butstillandallhekeptonsayingthatbeforethesummerwasoverhe’dgooutforadriveonefinedayjusttoseetheoldhouseagainwherewewereallborndowninIrishtownandtakemeandNanniewithhim.
Ifwecouldonlygetoneofthemnew-fangledcarriagesthatmakesnonoisethatFatherO’Rourketoldhimabout,themwiththerheumaticwheels,forthedaycheap—hesaid,atJohnnyRush’soverthewaythereanddriveoutthethreeofustogetherofaSundayevening.
Hehadhismindsetonthat....
PoorJames!”
“TheLordhavemercyonhissoul!”
saidmyaunt.
Elizatookouther
taschentuch
handkerchief
andwipedhereyeswithit.
Thensheputitbackagaininherpocketand
starrte
gazed
intotheemptygrateforsometimewithoutspeaking.