"Your highness will readily conclude," continued the physician, "that I
was very willing on this account to delay my journey, as I had thereby
an opportunity of seeing Mr Ewson in his glory. As soon as the morning
drew on, he came into my room, and was so good as to invite me to his
bowl of punch, although he regretted that he could only give me that
contemptible drink which, in this country, bore the honoured name of a
far different liquor. It was only in England where good punch could be
drunk, and if ever I came to see him in his own country, he would
convince me that he knew how to prepare, in its best fashion, that
divine panacea.
"Not long afterwards, the two other guests whom he had invited, made
their appearance. The _Amtmann_ was, like Ewson, a little figure, but
round as a ball, happy and contented, with a red snub nose, and large
sparkling eyes. Dr Green, on the contrary, was a tall, powerful, and
middle-aged man, with a countenance strikingly national, carelessly, yet
fashionably dressed, spectacles on his nose, and a round white hat on
his head.
"'Give me sack, that mine eyes may be red,' cried this hero, (marching
up to the innkeeper, whom he seized by the breast, shaking him
heartily,) 'Speak, thou rascally Cambyses, where are the princesses?
There is here a base odour of coffee and Bremen cigars, but no
fumigation yet floats on the air from the ambrosial drink of the gods.'
"'Have mercy, oh champion! Away with thy hands--relax thy potent grasp,'
answered the host, coughing; 'otherwise, in thine ire, thou might'st
crush my ribs like an eggshell."
"'Not till thy duties are fulfilled,' replied Dr Green; 'not before the
sweet vapour of punch, ambrosial punch, delights our nostrils. Why are
thy functions thus delayed? Not till then shall I let thee go, thou most
unrighteous host!'
"Now, however, Ewson darted out ferociously against the Doctor, crying,
'Green, thou brute, thou rascal!--Green shalt thou be, beneath the
eyes,--nay, thou shalt be green and yellow with grief, if thou dost not
immediately desist from thy shameful deeds.'
"Accordingly, I expected a violent quarrel, and prepared myself for
departure; but I was for once mistaken. 'In contempt, then, of his
cowardly impotence, I shall desist,' said the Doctor, 'and wait
patiently for the divine drink which thou, Ewson, shalt prepare for us.'
"With these words he let go the innkeeper, (who instantly ran out of the
room,) seated himself, with the demeanour of a Cato, at the table,
lighted his pipe, which was ready filled, and blew out great volumes of
smoke.
"'Is not all this as if one were at the play?' said the good-humoured
_Amtmann_, addressing himself to me. 'The Doctor, who generally never
reads a German book, borrowed from us a volume of Schlegel's
Shakespeare, and since that time he has, according to his own
expression, never ceased playing old well-known tunes upon a strange
instrument. You must have observed, that even the innkeeper speaks in
measured verse, the Doctor having drilled him for that purpose.'
"He was interrupted by the appearance of the landlord with his
punch-bowl, ready filled with liquor, smoking hot; and although Green
and Ewson both swore that it was scarcely drinkable, yet they did not
fail to swallow glass after glass with the greatest expedition.
"We kept up a tolerable conversation. Green, however, remained very
silent, only now and then falling in with most comical contradictions of
what other people had said. Thus, for example, the _Amtmann_ spoke of
the theatre at Berlin, and I assured him that the tragedy hero played
admirably. 'That I cannot admit,' said Dr Green. 'Do you not think if
the actor had performed six times better, that he might have been
tolerable?' Of necessity I could not but answer in the affirmative, but
was of opinion, that to play six times better would cost him a deal of
unnecessary trouble, as he had already played the part of Lear (in which
I had already seen him) most movingly. 'This,' said Green, 'quite passes
the bounds of my perceptions. The man, indeed, gives us all that he has
to give. Can he help it, if he is by nature and destiny inclined to be
stupid? However, in his own way, he has brought the art to tolerable
perfection; therefore one must bear with him.'
"The _Amtmann_ sat between the two originals, exerting his own
particular talent, which was, like that of a demon, to excite them to
all sorts of folly; and thus the night wore on, till the powerful
ambrosia began to operate.
"At last Ewson became extravagantly merry. With a hoarse, croaking
voice, he sung divers national songs, of which I did not understand a
word; but if the words were like the music, they must have been every
way detestable. Moreover, he threw his periwig and coat through the
window into the court, and began to dance a hornpipe, with such
unutterable grimaces, and in a style so supernaturally grotesque, that I
had almost split my sides with laughing.
"The Doctor, meanwhile, remained obstinately solemn, but it was obvious
that the strangest visions were passing through his brain. He looked
upon the punch-bowl as a bass fiddle, and would not give over playing
upon it with the spoon, to accompany Ewson's songs, though the innkeeper
earnestly entreated of him to desist.
"As for the _Amtmann_, he had always become more and more quiet; at last
he tottered away into a corner of the room, where he took a chair, and
began to weep bitterly. I understood a signal of the innkeeper, and
inquired of this dignitary the cause of his deep sorrow. 'Alas! alas!'
said he, 'the Prince Eugene was a great, very great general, and yet
even he, that heroic prince, was under the necessity to die!' Thereupon
he wept more vehemently, so that the tears ran down his cheeks.
"I endeavoured as well as I could to console him for the loss of this
brave hero of the last century, but in vain.
"Dr Green, meanwhile, had seized a great pair of snuffers, and with all
his might drove and laboured with them towards the open window. He had
nothing less in view than to clip the moon, which he had mistaken for a
candle.
"Ewson, meanwhile, danced and yelled as if he were possessed by a
thousand devils, till at last the under-waiter came, with a great
lantern, notwithstanding the clear moonlight shone into the apartment,
and cried out, 'Here I am, gentlemen. Now you can march.'
"The Doctor arose, lighted his pipe, (which he had laid aside while the
enjoyments of the punch-bowl lasted,) and now placed himself right
opposite to the waiter, blowing great clouds into his face.
"'Welcome, friend,' cried he; 'Art thou Peter Quince, who bearest about
moonshine, and dog, and thorn-bush? 'Tis I that have trimmed your light
for you, you lubber, and therefore you shine so brightly!
"'Good night then! Much have I quaffed of the contemptible juice here
denominated ambrosial punch. Good night, mine honest host--Good night,
mine Pylades!'
"Ewson swore that he would instantly break the head of any one who
should offer to go home, but no one heeded him. On the contrary, the
waiter took the Doctor under one arm, and the _Amtmann_, still weeping
for Prince Eugene, under the other; and thus they reeled along through
the streets, towards the _Amthaus_.
"With considerable difficulty, we carried the delirious Ewson to his own
room, where he raged and blew for half the night on his flute, so that I
could not possibly obtain any rest; nor did I recover from the
influences of the mad evening, until I found myself once more in my
travelling carriage."
The physician's story was (more, perhaps, from the _naive_ quaintness of
his delivery, than the _materiel_ of his narrative,) interrupted
frequently by peals of laughter, louder and longer than are usually to
be heard in a court circle. The Prince himself appeared particularly
delighted.
"There is only one figure," said his highness, "which, in the punch-bowl
scene, you have kept too much in the back-ground, and that is your
own--for I am fully persuaded, that you must have been the means of
leading the Doctor and Ewson to a thousand extravagancies, and that you
were, in truth, the exciting principle of mischief, for which you would
have us take the poor devil of an _Amtmann_."
"I assure your highness," said the Doctor, "that the club was, on the
contrary, so rounded and complete in itself, that every addition would
have been both discordant and superfluous. The three originals were
tuned up, and adapted, one to the other, each on his proper key, so as
to produce a most perfect trio. The host added thereto what we musicians
call a _septime_."
In this manner the conversations and the readings were kept up till the
hour when the Prince's family retired to their private apartments,
after which the numerous assembly all separated in the greatest good
humour.
* * * * *
I now found myself, day after day, moving happily and cheerfully in a
world entirely new. But the more that I learned to accommodate myself to
the quiet pleasant mode of life in the town, and at the court, the less
I thought of the past, or troubled myself with reflections that my
situation here was held by a very frail tenure. A place was gradually
opened for me, which I could hold with honour and credit. The Prince
seemed to take particular pleasure in my society, and from various
hints, I could very easily perceive that he thought of retaining me
permanently at his court.
It was not to be denied, that to many individuals the restraint imposed
by the constant presence of the sovereign, and the necessity of
accommodating one's pursuits and opinions to those which prevailed at
court, might have been very disagreeable. But here I possessed the
peculiar advantage of having been already accustomed to the formal
restrained life of the convent; so that I suffered less than any other
stranger would have done.
One circumstance, however, was exceedingly irksome to me. I perceived
that, although the Prince always distinguished me by the most
unequivocal tokens of his favour, yet the Princess invariably remained,
in her manner towards me, cold, haughty, and reserved. Nay, my presence
seemed often to disquiet her in an extraordinary degree, and it seemed
to cost her a great effort to bestow on me now and then, for form's
sake, a few words of ordinary politeness.
With the ladies, however, by whom she was surrounded, I had better
fortune. My appearance seemed to have made on them a favourable
impression; and as I was often with them, I succeeded at last in
acquiring the arts of gallantry, that is to say, of accommodating myself
to the notions of the ladies, whoever they were, among whom I happened
to be thrown, and of talking on subjects, in themselves trifling and
contemptible, as if they were of some importance.
Is not this oftentimes a key to the female heart? It is not difficult to
possess one's self of the ideas that usually prevail there, and if
these ideas, commonly not very deep nor sublime, are repeated and
embellished by the eloquence of a handsome lover, is not this far better
than downright flattery? It sounds, indeed, to female ears, like a hymn
of self-adoration. The beauty, hearing her own slender ideas thus
improved, is as delighted as if she beheld herself (dressed with
elegance and splendour) in a mirror.
I was satisfied that my transformation was complete. Who could now have
recognised in me the monk Medardus? The only dangerous place for me now
was the church, where I could scarcely avoid mechanically betraying the
force of old habits.
Among the constant hangers-on of the court, the physician was almost the
only one, except myself, who seemed to have any decided character of his
own. He was, therefore, partial to me, and approved highly the boldness
of my expressions, by which I had strangely succeeded in banishing from
the Prince's parties, the pleasures of the pharo-table.
It thus happened that we were often together, and spoke now of
literature and the arts--now of the goings on of those that were around
us. For the Princess, the physician had, like myself, a high veneration;
and assured me, that it was only through her influence that the Prince
was restrained from many other follies. It was this only that could
charm away that kind of restless _ennui_ by which he was tormented; and
it seemed often as if she were obliged to treat him as a child, and put
into his hands some harmless plaything.
I did not lose this opportunity of lamenting that I seemed to be out of
favour with the Princess, without being able to explain to myself any
cause for it.
The Doctor immediately rose, and, as we happened to be in his room,
brought a small miniature picture from his writing-desk, desiring me to
examine it with great care. I did so--but how was I confounded when I
perceived that the features of the male figure whom it represented were
precisely my own! It was only the old fashion of hair-dressing and of
garb in the portrait, and the luxuriant whiskers (Belcampo's
chef-d'oeuvre) on my part, that presented any difference.
Without hesitation I imparted my astonishment to the physician. "Well,
sir," said he, "it is neither more nor less than this resemblance which
now terrifies and disquiets the Princess as often as you come into her
presence; for your appearance never fails to bring to her mind the
recollection of a tremendous adventure, which formerly happened at this
court, and which I knew not whether I ought to relate.
"My precursor in the duties of physician, who has been some years dead,
and of whom I was a pupil, entrusted me with the particulars of that
event, and at the same time gave me this picture, which represents a
former favourite in the Prince's family, known here by the name of
Francesco. You perceive, by the way, that the miniature itself is a
masterpiece of art.
"It is one of the numerous works of that celebrated foreign painter who
was then at our court, and became a principal actor in the tragedy to
which I have alluded."
On contemplating the picture, my mind was overpowered by confused and
stupifying apprehensions, which I vainly endeavoured to arrange into
some definite shape. This only was certain, that some mystery, in which
I was myself involved, would now be cleared up; and I entreated the
physician to wave his scruples, and acquaint me with the adventure to
which he had alluded, as it probably might account to me for the
extraordinary likeness between my features and those of Francesco.
"Truly," said the physician, "I cannot wonder at your curiosity being
thus awakened; and though I speak very unwillingly of these
circumstances, on which, to this day, there lies a veil of mystery which
I have never been able to lift up, yet you shall now hear all that I
know of the matter. Many years have now passed since that occurrence,
and the principal actors have retired altogether from the stage; yet the
mere recollection of them is here so hazardous, that I must beg of you
not to repeat to any one what I may now communicate."
Of course I promised secrecy, and the physician went on as follows:--
"It happened just at the time of our Prince's marriage, that his brother
the Duke of Neuenburg returned from his travels in the society of a man
whom he called Francesco, though it was known that he was not an
Italian, but by birth a German. They brought with him also a painter,
said to have acquired, as an artist, the highest celebrity.
"The Duke of Neuenburg was one of the handsomest men that have ever
lived; and, on this account alone, would have outshone our sovereign,
even if he had not also excelled him both in vivacity and energy of
mind.
"On the young and newly-married Princess, therefore, who was then very
lively, and for whose disposition her consort was not very well suited,
the Duke made an extraordinary impression. Without the slightest shade
of criminal intentions, of any premeditated crime, the parties were
gradually and almost unconsciously involved in an attachment, at first
more distinguishable to by-standers than to themselves, and from which
they would, on _timely_ reflection, have fled with terror.
"It was the stranger Francesco alone, who, both in talents and in
personal beauty, could be compared to the Duke; and as the Duke
interested our reigning Princess, so Francesco completely acquired the
affections of her elder sister, who was then an inmate of our court.
"Francesco soon became aware of his good fortune, and did not fail to
lay the craftiest plans for profiting by the advantages then put within
his power. Meanwhile, although our sovereign was perfectly convinced of
his wife's virtue, yet the overstrained attentions of his brother, and
the satisfaction with which they were received, gave him considerable
vexation, and Francesco alone, who was become a great favourite, was
able at certain times to keep him in good humour. On this man he wished
to confer some distinguished situation; but the foreigner was contented
with the advantages derived from the system of favouritism, and the
affection of the Princess's unmarried sister.
"Such was the situation of affairs for some time. No particular event
occurred to disturb the family; but it was easy to perceive that some
among them were in no enviable state of mind. At this very juncture, by
the invitation probably of the Duke, there appeared with great splendour
at our court a certain Italian Countess, to whom, it was said, that, in
the course of his travels, he had at one time been greatly attached, and
who had even been spoken of as his betrothed bride.
"Be this as it may, she is said to have been wonderfully beautiful, to
have concentrated in her person and manners the very _belle ideal_ of
grace and elegance. Indeed these attributes speak for themselves in her
portrait, which you may see in the gallery. Her presence at first
greatly enlivened the court, where a kind of languor had begun to
predominate. She outshone every lady, even the Royal Princesses not
excepted.
"Francesco, however, after the arrival of this Italian beauty, became
most unfavourably changed. It seemed as if he were preyed upon by some
inward grief, which wore away the fresh bloom that had been formerly on
his features. Moreover, he became peevish, reserved, and melancholy. He
neglected even the society of his noble mistress, to whom he had before
shewn such obsequious attention.
"After some time, too, the Duke became morose and meditative, seemingly
carried away by some new passion, which he was unable to resist. But,
above all, it was on Francesco's mistress, the unmarried Princess, that
the strange lady's arrival had the most painful influence. Being
naturally inclined to enthusiasm, and to feel in extremes, it seemed to
her, that with the loss of Francesco's love, all the hopes and joys of
this life were, for her, withered for ever.
"Amid these dark clouds of disappointment and melancholy, by which all
were more or less affected, the Duke was the first to recover an outward
show of cheerfulness. That his attentions formerly to the reigning
Princess had been perfectly innocent, there can be no doubt; but these
were now changed for a vehement revival of his old attachment to the
Italian Countess, so that he lay once more under the same fetters,
which, but a short time before he came hither, he had successfully
broken!
"The more that the Duke gave himself to this passion, the more
remarkable for gloom and discontent was the behaviour of Francesco, who
now scarcely ever made his appearance at court, but wandered about
through the country alone, and was often for weeks together absent from
the _residenz_.
"On the other hand, the painter, who, as I have mentioned before, had
also accompanied the Duke from Italy, and who at first had been so shy
and reserved, that he was almost invisible, now made his appearance very
frequently in society, and laboured with great success and industry in
a large room, which the Italian Countess had fitted up for him in her
house, and where he took many portraits of her and of others, with
matchless fidelity and strength of expression.
"To the reigning Princess, meanwhile, he seemed to cherish a decided
aversion. He absolutely refused to paint her portrait, while, at the
same time, of her unmarried sister he took a most perfect likeness,
without her having allowed him a single sitting. Many other strange
stories are told of this painter's capricious and unaccountable conduct,
which I do not think it necessary to detail. Suffice it to say, that
though for the most part employed sedulously in his own profession, he
seemed to be utterly careless of what others said or thought of his
productions. One day, however, when the Duke had made some remarks which
did not suit with the stranger's particular humour, an irreconcilable
and violent quarrel took place betwixt them; and the artist only
requested, that, before retiring from the court, he might be allowed to
bestow some finishing touches on a favourite picture of the Italian
lady, which he was then painting for his patron. This being agreed to,
by two or three masterly strokes of his pencil, he converted in a few
seconds the countenance which had been so beautiful, into the most
hideous monster of deformity, on which no one could bear to look. Then,
with the words, 'Now art thou for ever lost,' he slowly and solemnly
left the apartment.
"This happened when the Italian Princess was already become the
betrothed bride of the Duke, and the marriage was appointed to take
place in a few days. As to the painter's strange conduct, less notice
was taken of it, as he was, by prevalent report, liable frequently to
madness. He returned, as it was said, to his own small and confined
apartments, where he sat staring at a great piece of stretched canvass,
without, as the by-standers believed, making any progress, though he
himself said that he was engaged on magnificent works. So he completely
forgot his attendance at court, and was himself forgotten.
"The marriage of the Duke with the Italian lady, was solemnly celebrated
in the palace. The reigning Princess had, of course, accommodated
herself to circumstances, and if she really loved her brother-in-law,
had renounced a passion which was without legitimate object, and which
never could have been gratified.
"Her unmarried sister once more seemed in high spirits, for her lover,
Francesco, now re-appeared at court, more blooming and joyous than ever.
"The Duke, with his consent, was to inhabit a wing of the palace, which
our Sovereign had ordered to be prepared for them. The Prince was,
indeed, at that time, quite in his element. He was never visible,
without a crowd of architects, painters, and upholsterers around him,
turning over great books, and spreading out on the table plans,
sketches, and outlines, which he partly devised himself; and which,
among them all, turned out sufficiently incommodious and absurd.
"Neither the Duke nor his bride was allowed to see any of these
arrangements, till on the eve of their marriage-day, when they were led
by the Prince, in a long solemn procession, into the rooms, which were
really decorated with great splendour; and on the evening of that day,
the festivities were concluded by a ball, given in the great banquet
_salle_, which was made to resemble a blooming garden.
"The nuptials were regularly solemnized on the following day; and all
was conducted as usual on such occasions; till about midnight, when,
from the Duke's wing of the house, there was heard a strange
disturbance, of which the noise became always louder and louder, till it
reached our Sovereign's ears, who, in great alarm, started from his bed.
"Having dressed himself hastily, and attended by his guards, he reached
the distant corridor of his brother's apartments, just as the servants
were lifting up the dead body of the Duke, who had been found murdered,
and lying at the door of the bridal chamber!
"I make the narrative as short as possible. It is easier to conceive
than describe the horror of the sovereign, the affliction of his
consort, and the whole court.
"Of course, the first inquiries of the Prince were, how and by whom the
murder had been committed? Watches were placed in all the corridors.
How, therefore, was it possible, that an assassin could have got
admittance, or how could he escape if he had once got in? All the
private passages were searched, but in vain!
"The page who usually waited on the Duke, related that he had assisted
his master to undress, who was for a long while agitated by fearful and
undefinable apprehensions, and had walked up and down, greatly
disquieted, in his dressing-room, then, carrying a large wax candle, he
had accompanied him to the anti-room of the bridal chamber. The Duke had
there taken the light out of his hand, and sent him away.
"Scarcely was he out of the anti-room, when he heard a hollow stifled
cry, the noise of a heavy fall, and the rattling of the overthrown
candlestick. He then ran directly back, and, by the gleam of a lamp,
which still burned, beheld the Duke stretched, dying or dead, before the
door of the bridal chamber, and near him he saw lying a small bloody
stiletto. Thereupon he directly gave the alarm.
"On the other hand, the Italian Duchess gave a totally different, and
quite inexplicable account. She said, that directly after her maids had
left her, the Duke had hastily come into her room without a light, and
had directly put out the other lights, so that the apartment was left in
darkness. He had remained with her a good half-hour, and had then risen
and departed. According to her statement, it must have been only a few
minutes after this that the murder was perpetrated.
"In short, people wore themselves out with conjectures as to who could
have been the murderer, while not a single trace of him was to be
obtained. But at this juncture, there stepped forward a certain
waiting-maid of the Princess's unmarried sister, who had been
accidentally and privately a witness of the scene between the Duke and
the painter, when the portrait was destroyed. After hearing her opinion
and evidence, no one doubted that the painter was the man who had found
his way secretly into the palace, and become the murderer.
"Orders were of course given to arrest this man; but ere the
waiting-maid's evidence was given, he had found time to escape, and not
the slightest tidings of him were to be found.