Eye-Bandaging.--Picture behind the Bed-curtain.--Two
Virtues in Danger.
In Passion-week Clotilda, released by the Princess amidst caresses,
went to St. Luna. In Easter-week she is to carry her heart, full of
concealed cares, to Maienthal, to more congenial souls, when she has
first passed through a purgatory, namely, through a brilliant ball
which the Prince gives her--or, to speak more politely, to the
Princess--on the third Easter-holiday.... If this flower shall be dug
out and transplanted by the melon-lever of death from my biographical
beds,--I throw away my pen and cudgel back Spitz,--I have come to be as
much accustomed to her as to a betrothed,--where shall I again discover
at court a female character which, like hers, unites _holy_ and _fine_
manners, _Heaven_ and _this world_, virtue and _ton_,--a heart which
(if it is allowable to compare it with anything small) resembles the
heart-shaped _montre à régulateur_ so tormenting to our hero, that with
the index-hand of the court hours combines an index-hand of the sun's
hours and the magnet of love?
Now, we are still together through all the Easter-holidays; for
Sebastian must go to Pastor Eymann's, to see him and the three British
twins, and his dear Chaplainess, and so much else that was dear. He
would gladly have followed the Regency-Councillor thither on holy
Easter-eve, (and it would have been as delightful to the biographer as
an Easter-pancake, for he is more than sated with cities and courts on
paper,) but the genius of the tenderest friendship beckoned to him for
the sake of Flamin and Clotilda, who had both so long wanted and so
longingly wished each other, and were now reciprocally bringing with
them to the meeting new wounds, to stay behind at least only till the
first Easter-day, as if he would ask, "Surely, the first glad looks of
brother and sister so long held asunder, my unhappy Sebastian will not
wish to disturb?"--"No, surely!" answered his tear.
The city was now emptied of his loved ones.--Passion-week was truly one
to him, not even the Princess, as it were the electrophorus of his
love-flame blown back upon his own heart, had for a long time been
visible to him,--for in this mood he could not go to Joachime's----when
the father-confessor of the Princess, who to-day had confessed to him
(on holy Easter-eve), called upon him and unfolded before him a medical
bulletin of the state of her eyes, and scolded at him in a friendly
manner, that the Court-Confessor, instead of bringing remission of sins
to the Court-Physician, had to bring the sins themselves before his
conscience. "I was on the point of making a journey to-morrow," said
Victor.--"Very well!" said the Pater, "the Princess desires your help
this very day."
On the way he said to himself: "Has, then, Tostato forsworn his Easter
confession, that now at evening he still has not arrived? and where the
devil will he be to-morrow?"--Here! answered--Tostato behind him.--Such
a jolly penitent no sacristy had ever yet seen. The child of fun and
deviltry and penance told the reason of his wild delight: "The Princess
had to-day, as his countrywoman, bought out half his shop." Before
Victor had arrayed on his face in rank and file _those_ serious looks,
with which he was going to entreat of him silence on the subject of his
mercantile vicariate,--I mean, his shop-keeping,--the skipping penitent
gladdened him with the news, that the Princess had inquired after his
and her countrymen, his _associés_, and that he had not at all
concealed from her, that somebody had once been of the latter without
being of the former, namely, her Court-Physician himself.--"Thunder!"
said the ...
The poor fool of a merchant meant it well, and there was nothing
further to be done about it than to investigate, whether Agnola's
questioning had not been mere accident; whether she still had the
watch, or had ever opened it; whether no wind had blown away the
declaration of love as a sister-wind!
After all it was a matter of grave consideration that the Pater and the
Merchant, the evil eyes and the good news, should fall upon precisely
the same time: this 30th of March, Easter-eve. As this visit is a very
memorable one for my hero, I beg every one to settle himself down very
comfortably, and split open beforehand the leaves of this narrative,
stuck together with bookbinder's gilding, and to listen like a spy.
When Victor reached the palace, the Pater encountered him, who said he
would go in too. It was fortunate; for without this guide he would
hardly have found his path through a labyrinth of apartments into the
altered cabinet of the patient. And with him went as a pewit through
all the rooms the apprehension of seeing on the face of the Princess an
indictment against the encased _Billet-doux_; but not so much as an
initial letter or the _rubrum_ of a sentence was seen upon her face, as
he came before her, and his thunder-cloud had passed aside. At least
his was repelled by one which hung over the Princess herself; that is
to say, she was ill, but not merely in the eyes; and a second message
which was sent to fetch him had just missed him. She received him in
bed,--not on account of her sickness, but of her station; for with
ladies of some rank the bed is the residence,--the moss-bank,--the
high-altar,--the royal palace,--in short, the princely chair and seat.
Like the philosopher Descartes, the Abbot Galiani, and old Shandy, they
can think and work best in this hothouse. Although she lay in bed,
nevertheless she was, as we said, not well, but was attacked with pain
in head and eyes. She had therefore to-day sent away all her domestics,
except a chambermaid who loved her very much, and the fly on the wall
who plagued her, and our Doctor who omitted one of the two things. I
should have been glad to reckon in a sedentary court-dame in a
picture-cabinet that stood open; but she sat so dumb and motionless,
that Victor swore she was either a knee-piece, or--a German lady,--or
both. It spared the scalded eyes of the Princess quite as much pain as
it gave well eyes pleasure, that the green light-screen, and the green
satin tapestry, and the green satin curtains in the sick-cabinet
conspired to shed an undulating _blue_ clare-obscure. A single wax
taper stood on a candlestick, which was enchased by all the seasons,
that is, in sculpture,--upon which custom of the great not to enjoy
nature except in counters, in _effigie_ and copy-paper, never _in
naturâ_ itself, I can here state neither my opinion nor its reasons,
because it would require a whole