English
Thatstudyofhiswasamuseum,andnothingelse.
Specimensofeverythingknowninmineralogylaythereintheirplacesinperfectorder,andcorrectlynamed,dividedintoinflammable,metallic,andlithoidminerals.
HowwellIknewallthesebitsofscience!
Manyatime,insteadofenjoyingthecompanyofladsofmyownage,Ihadpreferreddustingthesegraphites,anthracites,coals,lignites,andpeats!
Andtherewerebitumens,resins,organicsalts,tobeprotectedfromtheleastgrainofdust;andmetals,fromirontogold,metalswhosecurrentvaluealtogetherdisappearedinthepresenceoftherepublicanequalityofscientificspecimens;andstonestoo,enoughtorebuildentirelythehouseinKönigstrasse,evenwithahandsomeadditionalroom,whichwouldhavesuitedmeadmirably.
ButonenteringthisstudynowIthoughtofnoneofallthesewonders;myunclealonefilledmythoughts.
Hehadthrownhimselfintoavelveteasy–chair,andwasgraspingbetweenhishandsabookoverwhichhebent,ponderingwithintenseadmiration.
"Here'saremarkablebook!Whatawonderfulbook!"hewasexclaiming.
Theseejaculationsbroughttomymindthefactthatmyunclewasliabletooccasionalfitsofbibliomania;butnooldbookhadanyvalueinhiseyesunlessithadthevirtueofbeingnowhereelsetobefound,or,atanyrate,ofbeingillegible.
"Well,now;don'tyouseeityet?WhyIhavegotapricelesstreasure,thatIfoundhismorning,inrummaginginoldHevelius'sshop,theJew."
"Magnificent!"Ireplied,withagoodimitationofenthusiasm.
Whatwasthegoodofallthisfussaboutanoldquarto,boundinroughcalf,ayellow,fadedvolume,witharaggedsealdependingfromit?
ButforallthattherewasnolullyetintheadmiringexclamationsoftheProfessor.
"See,"hewenton,bothaskingthequestionsandsupplyingtheanswers."Isn'titabeauty?Yes;splendid!Didyoueverseesuchabinding?Doesn'tthebookopeneasily?Yes;itstopsopenanywhere.Butdoesitshutequallywell?
Yes;forthebindingandtheleavesareflush,allinastraightline,andnogapsoropeningsanywhere.
Andlookatitsback,aftersevenhundredyears.
Why,Bozerian,Closs,orPurgoldmighthavebeenproudofsuchabinding!"
Whilerapidlymakingthesecommentsmyunclekeptopeningandshuttingtheoldtome.Ireallycoulddonolessthanaskaquestionaboutitscontents,althoughIdidnotfeeltheslightestinterest.
"Andwhatisthetitleofthismarvellouswork?"Iaskedwithanaffectedeagernesswhichhemusthavebeenveryblindnottoseethrough.
"Thiswork,"repliedmyuncle,firingupwithrenewedenthusiasm,"thisworkistheHeimsKringlaofSnorreTurlleson,themostfamousIcelandicauthorofthetwelfthcentury!
ItisthechronicleoftheNorwegianprinceswhoruledinIceland."
"Indeed;"Icried,keepingupwonderfully,"ofcourseitisaGermantranslation?"
"What!"sharplyrepliedtheProfessor,"atranslation!WhatshouldIdowithatranslation?
ThisistheIcelandicoriginal,inthemagnificentidiomaticvernacular,whichisbothrichandsimple,andadmitsofaninfinitevarietyofgrammaticalcombinationsandverbalmodifications."
"LikeGerman."Ihappilyventured.
"Yes."repliedmyuncle,shrugginghisshoulders;"but,inadditiontoallthis,theIcelandichasthreenumbersliketheGreek,andirregulardeclensionsofnounsproperliketheLatin."
"Ah!"saidI,alittlemovedoutofmyindifference;"andisthetypegood?"
"Type!Whatdoyoumeanbytalkingoftype,wretchedAxel?Type!Doyoutakeitforaprintedbook,youignorantfool?Itisamanuscript,aRunicmanuscript."
"Runic?"
"Yes.Doyouwantmetoexplainwhatthatis?"
"Ofcoursenot,"Irepliedinthetoneofaninjuredman.Butmyunclepersevered,andtoldme,againstmywill,ofmanythingsIcarednothingabout.
"RuniccharacterswereinuseinIcelandinformerages.
Theywereinvented,itissaid,byOdinhimself.
Lookthere,andwonder,impiousyoungman,andadmiretheseletters,theinventionoftheScandinaviangod!"
Well,well!notknowingwhattosay,Iwasgoingtoprostratemyselfbeforethiswonderfulbook,awayofansweringequallypleasingtogodsandkings,andwhichhastheadvantageofnevergivingthemanyembarrassment,whenalittleincidenthappenedtodivertconversationintoanotherchannel.
Thiswastheappearanceofadirtyslipofparchment,whichslippedoutofthevolumeandfelluponthefloor.
Myunclepounceduponthisshredwithincredibleavidity.Anolddocument,enclosedanimmemorialtimewithinthefoldsofthisoldbook,hadforhimanimmeasurablevalue.
"What'sthis?"hecried.
Andhelaidoutuponthetableapieceofparchment,fiveinchesbythree,andalongwhichweretracedcertainmysteriouscharacters.
Hereistheexactfacsimile.Ithinkitimportanttoletthesestrangesignsbepubliclyknown,fortheywerethemeansofdrawingonProfessorLiedenbrockandhisnephewtoundertakethemostwonderfulexpeditionofthenineteenthcentury.
[Runicglyphsoccurhere]
TheProfessormusedafewmomentsoverthisseriesofcharacters;thenraisinghisspectacleshepronounced:
"TheseareRunicletters;theyareexactlylikethoseofthemanuscriptofSnorreTurlleson.But,whatonearthistheirmeaning?"
Runiclettersappearingtomymindtobeaninventionofthelearnedtomystifythispoorworld,Iwasnotsorrytoseemyunclesufferingthepangsofmystification.
Atleast,soitseemedtome,judgingfromhisfingers,whichwerebeginningtoworkwithterribleenergy.
"ItiscertainlyoldIcelandic,"hemutteredbetweenhisteeth.
AndProfessorLiedenbrockmusthaveknown,forhewasacknowledgedtobequiteapolyglot.
Notthathecouldspeakfluentlyinthetwothousandlanguagesandtwelvethousanddialectswhicharespokenontheearth,butheknewatleasthisshareofthem.
Sohewasgoing,inthepresenceofthisdifficulty,togivewaytoalltheimpetuosityofhischaracter,andIwaspreparingforaviolentoutbreak,whentwoo'clockstruckbythelittletimepieceoverthefireplace.
AtthatmomentourgoodhousekeeperMarthaopenedthestudydoor,saying:
"Dinnerisready!"
Iamafraidhesentthatsouptowhereitwouldboilawaytonothing,andMarthatooktoherheelsforsafety.
Ifollowedher,andhardlyknowinghowIgotthereIfoundmyselfseatedinmyusualplace.
Iwaitedafewminutes.NoProfessorcame.
Neverwithinmyremembrancehadhemissedtheimportantceremonialofdinner.Andyetwhatagooddinneritwas!
Therewasparsleysoup,anomeletteofhamgarnishedwithspicedsorrel,afilletofvealwithcompoteofprunes;fordessert,crystallisedfruit;thewholewasheddownwithsweetMoselle.
Allthismyunclewasgoingtosacrificetoabitofoldparchment.AsanaffectionateandattentivenephewIconsidereditmydutytoeatforhimaswellasformyself,whichIdidconscientiously.
"Ihaveneverknownsuchathing,"saidMartha."M.Liedenbrockisnotattable!"
"Whocouldhavebelievedit?"Isaid,withmymouthfull.
"Somethingseriousisgoingtohappen,"saidtheservant,shakingherhead.
Myopinionwas,thatnothingmoreseriouswouldhappenthananawfulscenewhenmyuncleshouldhavediscoveredthathisdinnerwasdevoured.
Ihadcometothelastofthefruitwhenaveryloudvoicetoremeawayfromthepleasuresofmydessert.
WithonespringIboundedoutofthedining–roomintothestudy.
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