Withered Leaves Volume Iii Part 15

Olga was the speaker of the Kingdom of the Nymphs--

"With the welcome of sisters we greet thee In thy beauty, our sovereign anew; Long we mourned, never hoping to meet thee, Now thine image again we review.

The waters shall mirror thy image afar As in glory and triumph we carry thy car."

Thereupon, Ccilie appeared as the G.o.ddess of Song, a wreath of laurels in her hand; behind her, Thalia and Melpomene, which characters were a.s.sumed by two of her friends.

Ccilie had composed these lines for herself--

"Silently, sadly, we see you depart, Leaving our kingdom made greater by you, But the laurel of fame must give place to the heart, Happiness there is more lasting and true.

Go you to bliss that cannot be measured, And leave those behind who will never forget, Your art as yourself will ever be treasured, O'er your gain we rejoice, our loss we regret."

Then Schner entered as a herald; in sonorous flowing verses he announced the arrival of the new mistress of the Castle, and poured forth praises of the perfection of her beauty and art; he recited these verses with wonted enthusiasm, and received plenteous applause.

Herr von Wegen came as the Master, at the head of a number of Knights of the Order; their white mantles with the black cross, harmonised well with the old dining-hall, which thus gained historical animation.

The German Order also greeted the new mistress; the poem, of whose authors.h.i.+p the fair-haired District Deputy was guiltless, while his brother-in-law, Dr. Kuhl, was universally thought to be its composer, contained some humourous flashes; it spoke of a fair lady who had not, as in former times, surrept.i.tiously entered the house of the Order, and by the back way, but like a mistress, who is ent.i.tled to go up the princ.i.p.al wide staircase. Thus the Order was completely secularised, and by this brilliant example the Order of wilful old bachelors equally so, as was demonstrated by the master himself, and his friend, the Prussian heathen.

And now, armed with a mighty club, Dr. Kuhl stepped forth as an ancient Prussian at the head of a band dressed in skins; he greeted Giulia in the name of the original inhabitants of the land, who alone possessed a right to these forests and lakes; he declared war to the knights who had been imported into this free land, to those monks of the sword, that black-crossed hypocrisy; with his people he would destroy this Castle to its very foundations if the presence of so beautiful a guardian G.o.ddess did not compel him to lay his club in homage at her feet; he concluded with the words--

"I swear it by every sacred G.o.d To-day all wars for ever cease, No more our blood shall soil the sod For hence shall reign eternal peace.

When the G.o.ds clamour for foemen dead Our G.o.ddess shall offer the olive instead."

Then followed another series of more stately pictures, and merry jests.

Salomon had conceived the unhappy idea of appearing as Ariosto, introducing himself as the Italian Heinrich Heine, and in a mixture of verses, which were collected, partly from the _Ottave rime_ of the poet of Reggio, partly from free thinking verses by the Parisian Aristophanes, and speaking of Herr von Blanden as Orlando, who had delivered Angelica, bound to the rock of the stage.

A tall girl, whose form was as redundant as those of the Genoese women, appeared as "Italia," a basket of fruit in her hands, a wreath of perfumed orange blossoms in her hair. It was Iduna; she had left Frulein Baute's school, after having met with frequent insults from the mistress, and openly displayed contempt on the part of her Theodore Krner, Dr. Sperner. Her father owned a small estate in the neighbourhood, and thus she was invited to the entertainment.

Soon all revolved in merry dance. Blanden opened the ball with Giulia, and then stood thoughtfully for some time, leaning against a pillar of the radiated arch; he thought of the other dance beneath the pear tree, and the pale shadow of his lovely Eva mingled in the rows of the dancers. She had pledged him in the unalloyed bliss of youth; this woman brought the rapture of pa.s.sion. But he felt that with her came a rent in his life. The gay company a.s.sembled, from which the most distinguished ladies of the neighbourhood were absent, the coldness of the members of his party in the capital, all proved to him that he had once more rendered it impossible to take a firm foothold in his home, and to attain a higher position in political life by any recognised influence; but it was only a transient heretical thought! There she stood before him in all her beauty, a fascinating woman! Her eyes gleamed with promise; dancing had brought a warmer colour to the marble of her features; her bosom heaved with sweet excitement, she appeared like a breathing statue of a G.o.ddess! A lamp shone in the pavilion!

myrtles and oranges shed their perfume; the stars of Italy gazed sparklingly down from the deep blue sky! He encircled her firmly with his arms, and sped to a wild measure through the old hall. Giulia was in her brightest mood, she would and did forget everything that was painful and hostile in her life; she chatted more pleasantly than ever before, and had a friendly winning word for every one; a roguish smile played around her lips, as she said to Blanden--

"I cannot realise that I shall never more stand behind the piano; never more look down upon my worthy conductor's bald head when he wields his _bton_, or into the manager's complacent countenance after a well-paying house; that Dr. Schner will never more arrange a poetical nosegay for my vase; no Spiegeler cause me sleepless nights by the stings of his wasps and bees. But away with all laurel wreaths!

Without, in the theatrical world, the echo of my name will not yet have quite died away, and when it is dead, it will no longer trouble the memory of the world to come, which will be inundated with many more."

Kuhl, the heathen, who had just performed a wild round dance with the orange-perfumed Italian, in which he had squeezed Iduna's hands with more fervour than the requirements of the dance demanded, now turned to Giulia and began a battle of words with her upon which she readily entered. Kuhl had only seen her as Blanden's nurse, when wounded, and spoken to her in a serious manner; her happy mood stirred him strangely, but was doubly attractive, and he could not leave her side while Blanden was enjoying a dance with Olga.

"Excuse me, Signora," suddenly said Ccilie's somewhat sharp voice.

"Look here, my friend! I only wish to tell you that there must now be an end of polytheism, and that you shall neither wors.h.i.+p the slight Italian marble G.o.ddess nor plump Iduna with her apples of eternal youth, neither one of Raffael's nor Ruben's beauties. Look this way my friend! I am now your Alpha and Omega, as the Bible says. I have now a right to you, and shall know how to a.s.sert it."

Kuhl listened to the conjugal lecture; sadly he then took up his club, which had been propped against a pillar, and leaning upon it, pondered over the fate which even the most irrefutable theories find in life's irksome custom. He resigned himself to the melancholy conviction that he, the Hercules of free love, had, after all, allowed his Dejanira to charm him into a Nessus s.h.i.+rt.

Dancing and enjoyment lasted until late into the night, then the guests retired to their chambers. Blanden accompanied his betrothed to the carved oak door of her apartment, and left her with an ardent kiss and the whispered words, "Until to-morrow!"

Beate, who had danced bravely and made a slight conquest of a young lawyer, was so fatigued that she had thrown herself, half undressed, upon the bed in her room, which was situated behind Giulia's, and had fallen into a sound sleep.

Giulia was still in her sitting-room--she gazed into the moonlit park; high into the air the fountain cast its stream of silver, gently around the trees quivered that dreamy light which rocks the soul with vague forebodings.

Dance, wine, love had intoxicated her. Was not the world so beautiful, life so happy!

She longed to rejoice, like the ray of water springing up towards the skies!

She threw aside her ball dress, and in her light dressing-gown contemplated her reflection in the large mirror. She felt so lighthearted, so free--and was she not beautiful, youthfully beautiful?

A heavy destiny had pa.s.sed over her, but in its flight it only slightly touches the favourites of the G.o.ds. No creases, no wrinkles, she needed no paint-pot to conceal them, no weight of cares had been able to bow her tall form, and the consciousness of her own beauty thrilled her with delight.

Then she hastened to the cupboard, which was placed in a panel of the wall, opened it with a carefully secured key, and took out the jewel box which Blanden had given to her. First she let the splendid stones glisten in the lamp light, then flash in the moon's radiance, while she revelled in the sparkling lights and the prismatic rays which played to and fro.

Then she stepped before the large mirror, put the diadem of brilliants upon her curls, decked herself with the pearl necklace, with the bracelets, glistening with rubies and emeralds. She thought herself magnificent as a queen; thus, in her dazzling splendour, ornamented with the prince's crown, might not everything be permitted to her? Need a ruler fear his conscience, that sentinel of the garrison? Did she, in her power and beauty, not stand far above it?

They were proud dreams in which she indulged--blissful self-forgetfulness, the ruinous intoxication of dark spirits of the earth, which guard the treasures of the deep, and scatter that s.h.i.+ning dust into the eyes of mankind that it may perceive nothing but the sparkling brilliance of mammon and soulless splendour. She walked up and down before the mirror, bent her head to see how the coronet of brilliants became her dark locks, turned to the right and to the left; but then the spirit of the stage came upon her, a vain spirit at first, and she repeated scenes from operas, raising her arms, now wringing her hands, then extending them as if cursing, all the time admiring the s.h.i.+ning lights of her bracelets as they played about those beautifully rounded forms.

Then she stood again as still as sculptured marble and gazed at herself as though she were looking at a statue, standing in a niche of a Pantheon. Then, suddenly--it was no dream--the mirror began to move; it was pushed on one side by invisible hands: she commenced to tremble, to rub her eyes--her own reflection disappeared with the mirror like a ghost into the surface of the wall--and, instead, a s.p.a.ce black as an abyss yawned before her--and a draped figure sprang into the room and threw off its cloak.

It was Baluzzi!

She started back with a loud cry.

"Traitoress!" cried he, "now you are worthy of me!"

Giulia staggered back a few paces, half unconscious, with one hand resting upon the back of the roccoco chair, she held the other tremblingly towards the intrusive ghost.

"Back, back!" she cried with a failing voice, that was almost stifled into a convulsive whisper.

"I believe, indeed, that you would refuse to see me, and that I am more hateful to you to-day than any other being whom the world contains. I come most inopportunely, I know, and that is why I come. And how beautifully you are adorned--for the galley!"

Giulia seized the diamond crown, the necklace and bracelet, all almost unconsciously, as if in a heavy dream, in which one seeks in blind haste to protect life, possessions and estate from unavoidable ruin; but her hand was paralysed, and the ornaments adhered to her.

"Beautifully adorned, and still beautiful!" cried Baluzzi, stepping nearer, "still as beautiful as once when you stood before the altar in the little church of San Giulio! Do not shrink from me--before others you are a bride elect, before others you may feign modesty, and wrap yourself in the bridal veil, not before me! I have an old and sacred right over you--your body, your soul belong to me, and to me alone; you cannot be separated from me so long as the indissoluble word of the Church exists upon earth, and I place my hand upon you as upon a runaway slave--Giulia Baluzzi, my wife!"

And he went up to her, held the struggling woman with a strong arm, and laid the other hand upon her marble shoulder that quivered as if in the grip of a tiger cat.

"Stand back, madman," whispered Giulia in a suppressed tone of alarm, "stand back, or I shall call for help."

"You will not do so, my child! You will not call for help, not even if I murder you with my dagger! You would prefer to drop mutely into my arms, and with expiring eyes to implore me--for silence, for forgetfulness! Is it not so? A cry for help!--what is a cry for help but a cry for shame, for disgrace, for law and executioner? I know you better, my little dove; so imprudent you are not; the friend of Beate, the cunning robber of a church, possesses too much sense and understanding."

"I shall call for help," said Giulia, with pride and defiance, now releasing herself from Baluzzi's arms. "And if I declare you before all the world to be a robber and a liar, all will deem your utterances to be madness, because the proofs are wanting."

"The proofs are ready."

"They were, perhaps; but they are no longer."

"Haha," said Baluzzi, with a mocking laugh, "you rely upon your astute messenger, upon Beate, who lays her devil's paw upon the altar candles and registers, at the ghostly hour of midnight lights a firebrand in a sacristy. A harmless amus.e.m.e.nt! Had it not been so harmless I should have prevented it, but it was great amus.e.m.e.nt for me to watch the lizard as it glided into the crevices in the church walls, and to carry on a game with it; unfortunately she swooned too soon. I should have liked to torture her still longer, have made her bones rattle, the good-for-nothing! You all possess courage only up to a certain point; the little witch, too, showed courage, but then, in a moment, it goes out like a candle that has burned down, that has consumed itself all too speedily."

"But the proofs are destroyed," said Giulia, although doubtfully and alarmed at Baluzzi's scorn, because she could not help fearing that by some means Beate's undertaking had failed.