The Queen of Hungary had returned home the evening before, and on the
following morning summoned Barbara to the Golden Cross to sing with the
boy choir.
When the major-domo, Quijada, obedient to her command, entered the room
at eleven o’clock, she called to him: “Miracles, Luis, mighty miracles
in these godless times! I have just come from his Majesty, and in what
did I find him occupied? Turning over music with Maestro Gombert--of
course, for a female voice. Besides, he looked as if he had just
defeated the Turks and Frenchmen at once. As for the gout, he’ll be
dancing the ‘hoppedei’ with the peasants presently.”
“Day before yesterday he surprised us by wearing satin shoes,” remarked
Quijada. “May I congratulate you on the really magical effect of your
Majesty’s prescription?”
“Continue to think so, if it suits you,” cried the Queen gaily. “Only a
few powerful drops from elsewhere have probably fallen into the potion.
But how stupidly artless you can look when you feign ignorance, Luis! In
this case, however, you need not let your breathing be oppressed by
the mask. I bow to your masculine secrecy--but why did my worldly-wise
brother mingle a petticoat in this delicate business if he wishes to
keep it hidden?”
“The Marquise Leria!” cried the major-domo, shrugging his shoulders
angrily, as if against an inevitable misfortune.
“My senior lady in waiting,” said the regent in assent to this
conjecture. “Make haste to bestow a stately candle, because it is she,
and no one else. You might spare yourself that smile; I know her better
than you do. If she had as many teeth as she possesses vices, she might
be happy; yet one admirable quality mingles with the evil traits in her
character.”
“And that?” asked Quijada, as if he deemed a satisfactory answer
impossible.
“Secrecy,” replied the Queen firmly. “She keeps what she has overheard
to herself as closely as a miser guards his gold.”
“In order to turn it to account when the favourable moment comes,”
remarked the major-domo. “Your Majesty will also permit me to observe
that if the marquise has already betrayed what was intended to remain
secret----”
“Her boasted reticence can not be very great, you think,” interrupted
the Queen. “But justice for all, my handsome lord. At present she is in
any service, and no other. Whose bread I eat, his song I sing--which
in this case means: His secret I keep, and to him I carry whatever I
discover. Besides, this time even the person betrayed owes her a debt
of gratitude, for you know how difficult it is for him to use his limbs,
and she is most obligingly smoothing the path for him. I tell you, Luis,
with all due respect for his Majesty as a general and a statesman, in
a skirmish of intrigue this woman will outwit you all. The schemes her
aged brain invents have neither fault nor flaw. The wheels work upon
one another as they do in the Emperor’s best Nuremberg clock. I want to
watch their turning before I go, for, be it known to you, early tomorrow
morning--the saints be praised!--I start for Brussels.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Quijada with an expression of sincere regret; but the
Queen gravely said: “There can be no further delay, Luis. It may
sound improbable that there is something which draws me back to the
Netherlands more strongly than the desire for freedom of movement, a
pleasant ride through the forest, and the excitement of the chase, which
lends spice to the insipidity of my life, yet you may believe it.”
“Business matters?” asked the nobleman anxiously.
The Queen nodded assent, and then eagerly continued: “And important
ones which his Majesty himself solemnly enjoined upon me to hasten my
departure. His zeal resembled a rude gesture toward the door, as much as
one rotten egg looks like another, for, under certain circumstances, the
affectionate brother prefers to have his beloved sister as far away as
possible. Had I been of a more obstinate nature, I would stay; but there
really are matters to be settled in the Netherlands which can not be
deferred, and the manner of his farewell showed plainly enough that
he no longer needed me. Merciful Heaven! When we parted yesterday, I
dreaded his Majesty’s anger. I had left him in the lurch to gratify my
own love for copse and forest. I had remained beyond the allotted time,
and had resolved, bend or break, to return to my post in Brussels. When
I rode in here I really felt as though I was entering the lion’s den.
But then came miracle after miracle. Do you know something, Luis? The
best results have often followed my most reckless acts.”
“Probably because even your Majesty’s least prudent deeds merit a modest
reward,” replied Quijada, “and because, besides the heavenly powers,
there are also less estimable ones that meddle with the affairs of this
world.”
“Perhaps so!” exclaimed the Queen, astonished at this idea. “Perhaps the
Prince of Darkness finds pleasure in this affair, and, as a fair-minded
devil, is grateful to me. One thing is certain: What a woman of my age
could not tell her daughter or--if she has none--her young niece, she
should not meddle with. All this is by no means pleasing to me, and
yet, Luis, yet We ought to rejoice in this love affair, not only for
ourselves, but for his Majesty. De Soto, too, I know, is satisfied;
nay, it seems as if he saw a special act of divine favour in this late
blazing of the flames of love in a heart whose fires had apparently
burned out.”
“Wherever this passion originates,” observed Quijada, “it seems to have
had a good influence upon his Majesty’s mood. It is said that Satan
often designs evil and yet works good, and if this late and very tender
emotion is a gift of hell, it nevertheless affords our sovereign lord
unexpected and therefore all the more exquisite joys.”
“In whose behalf it may also be said that they are numbered among
those which can hardly be approved, or even forbidden ones,” the regent
eagerly interrupted. “But no matter! Happy is he whose pathway at the
beginning of life’s evening is once more so brilliantly illumined by the
sun of love. In my devotion to the duties of government and the chase,
I have not yet wholly forgotten enthusiasm. Whoever has once been really
young retains this advantage, and I have, Luis. Therefore I could envy
my beloved brother to-day no less sincerely than I pitied him yesterday.
Joy is the best thing in life, and who bestows it more certainly and
lavishly than the little winged god? It is fortunate for my Charles that
he is again permitted to quaff the beaker of happiness! Only too soon--I
know it--he will again withdraw it from his lips with his own hand, if
it were only because the inclination to self-torture which he inherits,
the ascetic instinct, that constantly increases in strength, destroys
and stamps as sinful forgetfulness of duty every pleasure which he
enjoys for any length of time. We will hope that he will not retain this
new happiness too briefly. It would be of service to us all. What he
might possibly have granted me after long hesitation and consideration,
and with many a delay, he yielded after mass this morning with smiling
lips. Love expands the heart, and at the same time enlarges the views,
especially if it is not an unfortunate one; but this Barbara Blomberg is
a genuine daughter of Eve, over whom the mother of nations, if she met
her by chance, would rejoice. A German Venus, whom I would gladly send
to Titian for a model. And her voice and the unexpected good fortune
of finding such a teacher here! Appenzelder and Gombert are full of her
praises. Good heavens! How she sang yesterday evening! It was enough to
stir the dead. Afterward I drew her aside for a short time.”
“And your Majesty did her the honour to feel her teeth?”--[A German
phrase meaning to sound a person’s intentions.--TR.]--queried Quijada.
“Feel her teeth?” replied the Queen. “It might have been worth while,
for those that glitter between her rosy lips are white and beautifully
formed. But I did even more--I tested the girl’s heart and mind.”
“And the result?”
“H’m!” said the Queen. “Very favourable. Yet no. If I must be honest,
that is saying too little. She stood it very, surprisingly well. Her
intellect is anything but limited; nay, her comprehension is so swift
that she can be sure of not trying his Majesty’s patience unduly.
Her manners, too, are not amiss for a German; but what is the main
point--she is pious, firm in the faith, and ardent in her hatred of the
foes of the Holy Church. My life upon it! all this is as genuine as the
diamond in my ring, and so the white raven is complete. That she has
returned the Emperor Charles love for love by no means sullies her
plumage. In my eyes, it only shines the more brightly, since one so
great as he permits her, though only for a short distance, to share
his glorious flight. This Barbara is certainly a rare bird. But in the
chase, and as regent of a restless nation, one’s sight becomes keen--”
“And now,” cried Quijada, “comes the ‘but.’”
“It does come,” replied the regent firmly, “and I will point it out to
you. I only found the trail; but you, Luis, as a good sportsman and a
loyal friend of his Majesty, will keep a sharp watch upon it. This girl
is obstinate to the verge of defiance, vain, and unusually ambitious.”
“She has already shown us the obstinacy,” observed the Castilian.
“When she wheeled her horse to escape you?” asked the Queen.
“But there she was perfectly right. What a heedless, inconsiderate
masculine idea, to usher a woman directly from a horseback ride into a
company of gentlemen to sing before the Emperor! As to the vanity, I do
not find much fault with that. It would be far worse if she lacked it.
One can not imagine a genuine woman without it. It has been called pride
in charms which we do not possess, but it also serves to place actual
charms in a brighter light, and that I expect from this fair one. If she
knows how to avoid extravagance, it will willingly be indulged. But her
ambition, Luis; perils may arise from that. If it begins to stir too
covetously, remember your duty as watcher--sound the horn and set the
packs upon her.”
“For the sake of our sovereign lord, I will not fail,” replied Quijada.
“So far as she herself is concerned, she is one of those women whose
beauty I acknowledge, but to whom I am indifferent. More modest manners
please me better.”
“You are thinking of Dona Magdalena de Ulloa,” observed the Queen, “you
poor loyal widower, while the loveliest of wives still lives. Certainly
this German bears so little resemblance to her----”
“That I most humbly entreat your Majesty,” interposed Quijada with
haughty decision, “not to compare these two women, even by way of
contrast.”
“B-r-r!” said the regent, extending her hands toward him as if to
repel an assault. “Yet I like you in this mood, Luis. You are a true
Castilian! So we will leave Dona Magdalena in her Villagarcia, and
only permit myself to admire the self-sacrifice of a woman who grants
a husband like you so long a leave of absence. As to the Ratisbon
maiden----”
“I should be very glad to know,” Quijada began, this time in a
submissive tone, “by what sign your Majesty’s penetration discovered
this young creature’s ambition.”
“That is soon told,” replied the regent kindly. “She specially mentioned
her distinguished relatives in the city and in Landshut, and when
I advised her to show due respect to the marquise, who, in spite of
everything, is a woman of high rank and certainly an old lady, before
whose gray hairs Scripture commands us to rise, something hovered around
her lips--they are ripe for kisses--something which it is not easy to
find exactly the right words to describe: a blending of repugnance,
self-assertion, and resistance. She suffered it to remain on her
beautiful face only a few minutes, but it gave me reason enough to urge
you to sound a warning if his Majesty’s late love should render him more
yielding than is desirable.”
“The warned man will heed what prescient wisdom enjoins upon him,” the
major-domo protested, with his hand upon his heart. “But if I know his
Majesty, his strong and well-warranted sense of imperial dignity will
render my attentive solicitude needless. The moment that the singer
assails it will put a speedy end to my royal master’s love.”
The Queen shook her head, and answered doubtfully: “If only you do not
undervalue the blind boy-god’s power! Yet it must be owned that your
theory has a certain degree of justification.” She went to the window
as she spoke, and added: “Karlowitz, the minister of Duke Maurice of
Saxony, is leaving the house. He looks pleased, and if he has come to
an agreement with the Bishop of Arras, that will also help to put the
Emperor in a pleasant mood--”
“And all of us!” exclaimed Quijada, grasping his sword hilt. “If this
energetic young prince, with his military ability and his army, joins
us, why, then----”
“Then there will be war,” interrupted the Queen, completing the
sentence; “then there will be great joy among you younger, belligerent
Castilians! What do you care for the tears of mothers and the blood
of husbands and sons? Both will flow in streams, and, even if we were
certain of victory--which we are not--what will the gain be?”
“Triumph, the restored unity of Holy Church!” cried Quijada
enthusiastically.
“For which I daily pray,” said the regent. “But even if you succeeded
in gaining a complete victory, if every church in city and country again
belonged to the only faith by which we can obtain salvation, I shall
still see them deprived of their holy vocation, for they will stand
empty, because then the men who would rather die than abjure their
delusion will be lying silent upon battlefields.”
“May they rot there!” cried the Spaniard. “But we are not fighting only
for to-day and tomorrow. New generations will again fill churches and
chapels. We will shed the last drops of our blood to accomplish it, and
every true Castilian thinks as I do.”
“I know it,” sighed the regent, “and it is not my business to preach
to deaf ears. But one thing more: Do you know that his Majesty has just
accepted the Marquise de Leria’s offer?”
“No; but I should be greatly indebted to your royal----”
“Then listen,” the Queen hastily interrupted. “In the suburb of
Prebrunn, in a large garden, stands the pretty little castle of the
Prince Prior of Berchtesgaden--I don’t mean the one belonging to the
worthy Trainer, on whose preserves we hunted once in April, and which
is erroneously called here the ‘cassl.’ The reverend owner offered it
to his Majesty to shelter a guest of high rank. Now the marquise is
to occupy it, because country air would benefit her. The singer will
establish herself under the noblewoman’s maternal care. You know the
Marquise de Leria’s huge litter, which was borne here by two
strong mules that Ruy Gomez--what will not people do to find out
something?--gave her. The black ark, with the coats-of-arms of the De
Lerias and the Duke of Rency on the back, the front, and both sides, is
probably well known here. At first the boys ran after the monster;
now they are used to the thing, and no longer notice it. But it is
comfortable, and it can be opened. When the old woman uses the litter
the cover will be removed and people will see her; when it is closed,
the most sharp-sighted can not discover who is within. If his Majesty
desires to go out to Prebrunn and return here, he will take it, and,
even if his foot pains him, will reach his fair goal unseen. The young
girl consented yesterday to move there with the marquise, and directly
after it will be your duty, aided by Master Adrian, to attend to the
furnishing of the little castle. I will aid you. You will hear the
particulars from his Majesty. The marquise will take Barbara directly to
the chapel, where the choir is to sing. People must become accustomed to
see and speak of the two together. What would you think of an alliance
between Leria and Blomberg? If I see correctly, the old woman will train
the girl to be a useful tool.”
“And if the tool cuts her fingers in the process,” said Quijada, “I
shall be glad.”
“So shall I!” assented the Queen, laughing. Then she dismissed the
major-domo, and a short time later singing was heard in the chapel.
The Emperor, after he had finished his meal, heard it also, and listened
to Barbara as if enraptured when, in Hobrecht’s motet for five voices,
Salve crux arbor vitae, in the sublime O crux lignum triumphale, she
raised her voice with a power, a wealth of pious devotion which he had
never before heard in the execution of this forceful composition.
The little Maltese Hannibal again acquitted himself admirably, and in
one of the duets in the second part Johannes of Cologne could prove that
he had recovered.
His young companion in illness had also escaped lasting injury.
Appenzelder, too, showed himself fully satisfied with Barbara’s
execution. Something new and powerful, rising from the inmost depth of
the soul, a passion of devout exaltation, rang in her voice which he had
not perceived during the first rehearsals. Her art seemed to him to
grow under his eyes like a wonderful plant, and the quiet, reserved man
expressed his delight so unequivocally that the Emperor beckoned to him
and asked his opinion of the singer’s performance.
The musician expressed with unreserved warmth the emotions that filled
his honest heart; but the monarch listened approvingly, and drew from
his finger a costly ring to bestow it upon the discoverer of this
glorious jewel.
The leader of the choir, it is true, declined this title of honour to
award it to Sir Wolf Hartschwert; but the Emperor asserted that he
was grateful to him also for many a service, and then ordered the gold
chain, which had long been intended for him, to be brought for Maestro
Gombert.
After these tokens of favour, which awakened the utmost surprise in
those who were present, as the Emperor very rarely yielded to such
impulses of generosity, the monarch’s eyes sought Barbara’s, and his
glance seemed to say: “For your sake, love. Thus shall those who have
deserved it from you be rewarded.”
Finally he accosted her, intentionally raising his voice as he did so.
Word for word was intended to be heard by every one, even the remark
that he wished to make the acquaintance of her father, whom he
remembered as a brave comrade. Barbara would oblige him if she would
request him to call upon him that afternoon. It was his duty to thank
the man through whose daughter he enjoyed such lofty pleasure.