PRINCE KAUNITZ AND RITTER GLUCK.
Prince Kaunitz had finished his promenade in the powder-room, and having
ascertained by means of his mirror that his peruke was in order, he
betook himself to the apartments of the Countess Clary, to conduct her
to table.
The young countess, Kaunitz's niece, and a widow scarcely thirty years
of age, flew to greet her uncle, radiant with smiles and happiness.
"What an unexpected honor you confer upon me, my dear uncle!" said she,
with her sweet low voice. "Coming yourself to conduct me to the table!
How I thank you for preparing me a triumph which every woman in Vienna
will envy me."
"I came with no intention whatever of preparing you a triumph or a
pleasure. I came solely because I wish to have a few words with you
before we go to dinner."
"I am all ears, your highness," said the countess, smiling.
Kaunitz looked at his young and lovely niece with uncommon scrutiny.
"You have been crying," said he, after a pause.
"No, indeed," said she, blushing.
"Do you suppose that you can deceive me? I repeat it, you have been
crying. Will you presume to contradict me?"
"No, dear uncle, I will not."
"And wherefore? No prevarication; I must know."
The young countess raised her soft blue eyes to the face of the haughty
prince. "I will tell the truth," said she, again blushing. "I was crying
because La Foliazzi was so long with you to-day."
"Jealous, too!" said Kaunitz, with a sneer. "And pray, who ever gave
you the right of being jealous of me?"
The countess said nothing, but her eyes filled with tears.
"Allow me to discuss this matter with you. I came for this purpose. Our
relations must be distinctly understood if they are to last. You must
have the goodness to remember their origin. When you were left a widow
you turned to me, as your nearest relative, for assistance. You were
unprotected, and your husband had left you nothing. I gave you my
protection, not because I was in any way pleased with you, but because
you were my sister's child. I invited you hither to do the honors of my
house, to give orders to the cooks and steward, to overlook my household
arrangements, and to receive my guests in a manner worthy of their host.
To insure you the appearance and consideration due to you as my niece
and as the lady of my house, I gave you a remuneration of two thousand
guilders a year. Were not these my terms?"
"Yes, your highness, they were. They filled me with gratitude and joy;
and never will I forget your kindness."
"It seems, however, that you do forget it," replied the heartless uncle.
"How does it happen that you take the liberty of being unhappy because
La Foliazzi is in my room! What business is it of yours, whom I receive
or entertain? Have I ever given you the slightest hope that from my
niece I would ever raise you to the eminence of being my wife?"
"Never, never, dear uncle," said the countess, scarlet with shame. "You
have never been otherwise to me than my generous benefactor."
"Then oblige me by silencing the absurd rumors that may have led you
into the delusion of supposing that I intended to make of you a
princess. I wish you to know that I have no idea of marrying again; and
if ever I should form another matrimonial alliance, it will either be
with an imperial or a royal princes. Will you be so good as to remember
this and to act accordingly?"
"Certainly," replied the countess, her eyes filling with tears. "I
assure your highness that I have never been so presuming as to regard
you otherwise than as my kinsman and guardian. My feelings of admiration
for you are indeed enthusiastic; but I have never felt any thing toward
you but the attachment of a daughter."
"Pray do not trouble yourself to feel any thing at all on my account,"
said Kaunitz, ill-humoredly. "I am not under the necessity of playing
the part of a tender father toward you; therefore, dry up the tears you
took the trouble to shed on La Foliazzi's account. But enough of this
folly. I hope that we understand each other, and that I will not have to
repeat this conversation. Be so good as to take my arm. We will go
forward to meet our guests."
The young countess took the arm of the prince, and they entered the
drawing-room. The guests had long been assembled there, but it never
occurred to Kaunitz to make any apology for his late appearance.
Nevertheless, his guests were all noble; some of them representatives of
princely houses or powerful kingdoms. Kaunitz, however, was not only the
all-powerful minister of Maria Theresa; it was well known that his
slender, diamond-studded fingers directed the policy of all Europe. No
one in that room had the courage to resent his rudeness. All seemed to
feel honored as he walked haughtily forward with a slight inclination of
his head to the many, and a condescending smile to the few whom it
pleased him to distinguish by his notice. [Footnote: Wraxall, "Memoirs,"
vol. i., page 380.]
Prince Kaunitz did not choose to perceive that several distinguished
ambassadors, as well as a German prince, himself a reigning sovereign,
were present as his guests. He passed them all by to accost a small,
graceful man who, seated in a recess, had received no further attention
from the high-born company than a condescending nod. Kaunitz gave him
his hand, and welcomed him audibly. The honored guest was Noverre, the
inventor of the ballet as it is performed to-day on the stage. Noverre
blushed with pleasure at the reception given him, while the other guests
scarcely concealed their chagrin.
Just then the folding-doors were thrown wide open, and the steward
announced in a loud voice that the table of his lord the prince was
served. The company arose, and the ladies looked to see which of them
was to have the honor of being conducted to the table by the host.
Kaunitz feigned neither to see nor to hear. He continued his
conversation with Noverre, and when he had quite done, he sauntered
carelessly up to his other guests. Suddenly he paused, and his eyes
wandered from one to another with a searching glance.
"Good Heaven!" exclaimed he, "of what a rudeness we were about to be
guilty. I had invited Ritter Gluck to meet us to-day, and he has not yet
arrived. It shall not be said of me that I was ever wanting in respect
to genius as transcendent as his. I must beg of my distinguished guests
to await his arrival before going to dinner." [Footnote: Swinburne, vol.
I., page 80.]
Hereupon he resumed his conversation with Noverre. The other guests
were indignant, for they all felt the insult. The nobles disapproved of
the fashion, which had been introduced by Kaunitz, of mingling artists
and savans of no birth with the aristocracy of Vienna; and the
ambassadors felt it as a personal injury that Kaunitz, who yesterday had
refused to wait for them, to-day called upon them to wait for a
musician.
Kaunitz pretended not to see the displeasure which, nevertheless, his
guests were at no great pains to conceal, and he went on talking in an
animated strain with Noverre. The poor dancer, meanwhile, gave short and
embarrassed answers. He had remarked the discontent of the company, and
the prince's over-politeness oppressed him, the more so as he perceived
one of the lords gradually approaching with the intention of addressing
the prince. With the deepest respect the dancer attempted to withdraw,
but the merciless Kaunitz caught him by one of the buttons of his velvet
coat, and held him fast.
"Do not stir," said the prince. "I see the duke quite as well as you do,
but he is a liar and a braggart--I dislike him, and he shall not speak
with me. Tell me something about the new ballet that you are arranging
for the emperor's festival. I hear that Gluck has composed the music.
But hush! Here comes the maestro."
Kaunitz walked rapidly forward and met Gluck in the middle of the room.
They greeted one another cordially, but proudly--as two princes might
have done. Around them stood the other guests, frowning to see these two
men, both so proud, so conscious of greatness, scarcely seeming aware
that others besides themselves were present. Gluck was in full
court-dress; at his side a sword; on his breast the brilliant order of
the pope. With unembarrassed courtesy he received the greeting of the
prince, and made no apology for his tardy appearance.
"Thank Heaven, you have come at last!" exclaimed Kaunitz, in an audible
voice. "I was afraid that the gods, angels, and spirits who are the
daily associates of the great maestro would deprive us poor mortals of
the honor of dining with the favorite of the Muses and the Graces."
"The gods, the Muses, and the Graces are the associates of Prince
Kaunitz," returned Gluck. "If they are not to be found in their temples,
we may be sure that they have taken refuge here."
Kaunitz, who never vouchsafed a civil word in return for compliments,
bowed his head, and with a gratified smile turned to his assembled
guests.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "let us sit down to dinner."
But the company waited for the signal to rise which would be given when
the host offered his arm to the lady whom he complimented by taking her
in to dinner.
The prince looked around, and his eyes rested again on Gluck.
"I beg of the Ritter Gluck," said he, graciously, "the honor of
conducting him to the table." And with a courteous bow he offered his
arm. "Favorite of the Muses, come with me. I am too true a worshipper of
your nine lovely mistresses, to resign you to any one else."
Gluck, with a smile appreciative of the honor conferred upon him, took
the arm of the prince, and was led into the dining-room.
Behind them came the other guests. All wore discontented faces; for this
time the slight had been offered not only to dukes and ambassadors, but
to the ladies themselves, who could not help feeling bitterly this utter
disregard of all etiquette and good-breeding.
On the day after the dinner Kaunitz started for Innspruck to superintend
the festivities preparing for the marriage of the Archduke Leopold.
Count Durazzo, the director of the theatre, had preceded the prince by a
week. Noverre, with his ballet-dancers, was to follow. The great opera
of "Orpheus and Eurydice," whose fame was now European was being
rehearsed at Innspruck, for representation on the first night of the
festival.
Although Florian Gassman was a leader of acknowledged skill, Gluck, at
the request of the emperor, had gone to Innspruck to direct and oversee
the rehearsals.
The furies had just concluded their chorus, and Gluck had given the
signal for dismissal, when Prince Kaunitz entered the theatre, and came
forward, offering his hand to the maestro.
"Well, maestro," said be, "are you satisfied with your artistes? Are we
to have a great musical treat to-morrow?"
Gluck shrugged his shoulders. "My singers are not the angels who taught
me this music, but for mortals they sing well. I scarcely think that
Donna Maria Louisa has ever heard any thing comparable to the music
which is to welcome her to Innspruck."
"I am glad to hear it," said Kaunitz, with his usual composure, although
he was inwardly annoyed at Gluck's complacency. "But as I promised the
empress to see and hear every thing myself, I must hear and judge of
your opera also. Be so good as to have it repeated."
Gluck looked at the prince in amazement.
"What," cried he, "your highness wishes them to go through the whole
opera without an audience?"
Prince Kaunitz raised his lofty head in displeasure, and said: "Ritter
Gluck, quality has always been esteemed before quantity. I alone am an
audience. Let the opera begin, the audience is here." [Footnote: The
prince's own words. Swinburne, vol. 1, page 302.]
Gluck did not answer immediately. He frowned and looked down. Suddenly
he raised his head, and his face wore its usual expression of energy and
power.
"I will gratify your highness. I myself would like to hear the opera
without participating in it. Ladies and gentlemen of the coulisses, be
so kind as to return! Gentlemen of the orchestra, resume your
instruments! Gassman, have the goodness to lead. Do your best. Let us
have your highest interpretation of art--for you have an audience such
as you may never have again. Prince Kaunitz and Ritter Gluck are your
listeners!"