At the grated gate of the park Doctor Joannes received us. He was
dressed with much more care than on the preceding evening, for, although
he still wore the same common black dress, and his hair hung in simple
curls on either side of his pale face; in his lace jabot sparkled a
diamond of the first water; his fingers were loaded with costly rings,
and upon his light cane of bamboo shone in all its native splendor, a
ruby as large as a billiard-ball. He did not appear to notice me, but
bowed humbly to the ladies, and begged their forgiveness for intruding
himself without an invitation; being driven to San Solario, as he said,
by the desire to know whether they were satisfied with the Viennese
chariot and Andalusian ponies. His whole manner expressed that tender
sensibility which is in such favor with the ladies of the present day.
They appeared delighted to see him. The lovely princess, sweet
innocence, began, in her winning way, to admire the ornaments with which
the doctor was adorned. She admired the diamonds and the rings; but when
she saw the ruby, she broke out in most musical laughter, and declared
that it must have belonged to Gulliver’s Ghlumdalclitch, for none but
the queen of the giants could wear such a stone.
“O, gracious princess,” said I, casting a scornful glance upon Doctor
Joannes, “these stones are never worn by ladies. They are marks of
distinction among the Chinese mandarins; and I do not think such a one
is to be found anywhere but in the imperial treasury at Peking.”
The doctor colored slightly, and his glance threatened me with revenge
and ruin. But he soon turned quietly to the ladies, smiled himself at
the great size of the stone, and confessed that it was this very
peculiarity which had induced him to purchase it of a mandarin, who had
left Rio Janeiro this very afternoon.
I was obliged to acknowledge that he had extricated himself from the
difficulty well, and to leave him in peace for the present.
It was a magnificent afternoon, and the villa San Solario was a place of
perfect enchantment. All the public gardens and squares in Gelnhaus and
Heidelberg, were as common linen to cashmere, compared with San Solario.
In Gelnhaus, if I chanced to hear a nightingale chirp, or a cricket
sing, I fell immediately into a poetical ecstasy; and here there was a
whole orchestra of woodland musicians performing overtures and
symphonies on the boughs of the cedars and palms, while gorgeous birds
were flitting about like animated flowers.
That rascal Joannes took his place by Angelica’s side, and, while the
ladies were occupied with some sentimental love story, I gave myself up
to my strange, wild, poetical dreaming. But I was wakened from my
profound reverie by the sharp tones of the duchess. “Have you another
attack, my lord, marquis?” said she; “you indulge in strange reveries.
Why do you not listen to the exquisite story which the doctor is
relating to us—it would melt a heart of stone. But you are so buried in
thought, that you hear not a word of it; and if we did not pardon much
to the weakness of your nerves, we should really be offended.” The
doctor looked at me with the most impudent malice, and the princess
Angelica smiled strangely, as if she suspected that I was not all right
in my mind, or that I was an unrefined sort of person, who had yet to
learn how to conduct himself toward people of rank; but I collected
myself, and said, “These affecting stories have an injurious effect upon
my nerves, it is true, and the physicians have forbidden me to listen to
them. Even in early childhood my nurse’s tales always affected me
strangely, and the story of a doctor who journeyed through the air upon
a fiery dog, to visit the Emperor of China, or rather his treasury, made
such an impression upon me, that it always seems to me as if it had
really occurred only yesterday.”
Now, it was my time to stare maliciously at the doctor. Astonishment,
rage, and curiosity were painted in his countenance. He had a hard
struggle to prevent a self-betrayal; the veins in his forehead swelled
fearfully, his cheeks glowed, and his eyes would have killed me if they
could. But he recovered his composure again before the ladies noticed
his confusion, and became just as interestingly pale as before—gentle
and retiring as a young maiden, who is just entering the gay world; he
coincided with them in their observations upon the beautiful country,
and especially praised the situation of the villa, and the plan upon
which the grounds were laid out.
This pleased the duchess—for the plans were her own.
We had now reached a spot where the whole beauty of the park and the
surrounding country was spread out before us; but so oppressive were the
rays of the evening sun, that it was almost impossible to remain for a
moment in contemplation of the glorious landscape. The duchess declared
that she would erect a public pavilion here, which should enable people
to enjoy the charming scene without, undisturbed by the burning heat.
“In the meanwhile, I can assist you for the moment, with a little piece
of chemical art,” said Joannes, very gently, as he detained the ladies.
“It were a pity not to remain here until evening, and enjoy all the
beauties of the sunset.” With these words he opened a box, which he took
from his pocket. I regarded it curiously, but could discover nothing but
common snuff. With a solemn air he scattered a few grains of the brown
dust in a semi-circle on the ground; and, lo!—in a moment—roses and
jessamines, vines and fig-trees, peach-trees and dwarf-palms sprouted up
from the earth. They soon grew to a convenient height, and then arched
themselves overhead in a roof, the green of which was charmingly
relieved by many gay-colored flowers. But the doctor performed even more
than he promised. With the arbor, there appeared also luxuriant
ottomans, and an elegant table, upon which were crystal dishes, filled
with the most delicious _confitures_, and glasses of lemonade and almond
milk. The ladies appeared entirely satisfied with every thing; were not
much surprised, and were very glad that the knowledge of natural magic
had been carried so far, because it permitted one so easily to serve a
friend in time of need.
I was vexed, and another cutting remark was upon my tongue, when an
unexpected sight filled me with sweet memories of my home upon the
Rhine, and excited my appetite. The arbor had borne fruits. Juicy figs
and magnificent peaches were seen among the dark green leaves; but,
better than all, there was the genuine fruit of Rhineland—the delicious
grape. My heart leaped up within me, and I could scarcely refrain from
singing—
“The Rhine, the Rhine, ’tis there our vines are blooming.”
“Does it please you, most honored friend?” asked the doctor, with
extreme politeness, as he pointed to the rich, full bunches. “Pluck them
yourself, while I wait upon the ladies. You will find them of the finest
species, and just in the right state for eating.”
I could not withstand him. I plucked and ate—and the more I ate the
greater became my hunger for them. Oh! how my spirits warmed, as I
tasted the well-known Rutland grape, the Orleans, Riesling, Traminer,
and the delicious, cooling Muscatel. The world around me vanished, and
this fruit of the Rhine was—for the moment—life and love. A loud laugh
from the ladies and the doctor awoke me from my dream of delight.
Amazed, I looked up and around. Angelica pointed maliciously to the
stripped vines, and I saw, to my horror, that I had eaten all the fruit,
and that I was just stretching out my hand for the last grape upon the
arbor. I was deeply mortified, but in the next moment my mortification
was changed into dismay. What had I done? How could I have so forgotten
myself as to enjoy the fruits of the witchcraft of my rival: I was—if
not poisoned—at least bewitched. He gazed at me maliciously; and as he
laughed contemptuously, the wicked fire that he had stolen from hell
darted from his eyes.
“What is the matter, my lord?” began the duchess, who must have noticed
the change in my manner and countenance. “Are you bewitched? Are you
going to have another attack?”
“How bewitched? What attack?” cried I, almost beside myself. “We—all
three—your gracious highness, the heavenly Angelica, and I—I, the
Marquis Della Mostarda, are bewitched by the devil’s arts and a cursed
dog. Doctor Joannes will lure on our poor souls into the power of his
poodle, with Nüremburg gingerbread, delicious confectionary, and magic
fruit. But his power reaches not to me—I am under mightier protection.”
I rushed away, and directed my steps toward the shadiest part of the
garden. “What a pity that the poor man suffers from such attacks,” I
heard the duchess say behind me. “What a pity,” echoed the princess,
sweetly. But the doctor was well content that I had left the field clear
for him.