3 Books To Know Nobel Prize in Literature. Paul Heyse
contained his wife's heart and with it all the poetry of his life. Then at last he ordered his own effigy to be placed beside hers, wrapped in the simple soldier's cloak he had preferred to the purple mantle, that even in death, he might remain faithful to himself and to her. Isn't there greatness in so much humility, and more true royalty in this unassuming figure than in all the boastful imperial pomp of this great conqueror?"
At first she did not answer. Not until they approached the gate of the park and she drew her hand lightly from his arm to put on her gloves, did she say: "You're perfectly right; the only true nobility is to remain faithful to one's self. The common run of mankind concern themselves much about their neighbors' opinion, imploring their advice as to the guidance of their lives, but he who has the germ of a noble nature lives and dies by the light of his own inward grace and is sovereign of himself. As for these rules of living, they are pitiful torments which evil unhappy meddlesome people have invented to sour the life of their fellow mortals. He who thrusts his neck under the yoke deserves the bondage. One can grow old in such a servitude and yet never know what it is really to live."
CHAPTER IV.
––––––––
The clock struck two as they entered the square before the castle. "What shall we do now?" she asked.
"We have now no more important task than to eat the best dinner we can get. I hope the table in the Pagoda has made some progress in civilization since my student days, when I used to revel in the famous katteschale. However, it's Sunday, and Charlottenburg knows the duty it owes the capital."
When they entered the handsome hotel, in whose lower rooms a somewhat motley company were already drinking coffee, a waiter came toward them and after a hasty glance at Toinette, showed the young couple the way to the second story. If they wished to dine alone, they would find empty rooms and tables there—
"There's no help for it," said Edwin laughing, "they evidently suspect you of a desire to enjoy my society alone; you'll have to reconcile yourself to it. But we'll drink our coffee in the open air, and then you can make up for the conquests you can't celebrate at dinner."
He went up stairs beside her and opened the first door, which led into a comfortable room. She sat down without ceremony on the little sofa, removed her hat and cloak, and assured him that in spite of the second breakfast of fruit which she had eaten, she was already very hungry. Edwin seated himself opposite her and took up the bill of fare. Amid all sorts of jests, they began to select their favorite dishes, and he could not help remembering their little dinners in Jägerstrasse. He inquired about her birds. She now had a dozen sparrows for boarders, she said, and would rather hear nothing about those delights of the table. She had afterwards learned that even the restaurant had been in the conspiracy against her, and had only charged her half price. She would soon be reduced to Lotte's bread and butter. "But we won't talk about that to-day," she said suddenly, "it'll come soon enough."
She rose, yawned, and began to look at the lithographs that hung on the walls. "You see," said she, "if we had brought the dwarf with us, we should have been better served."
"The waiter seems to think we shall be satisfied with our young love. Wait a moment, I'll go down myself, enter into a tender relation with the cook, and bribe some ministering spirit to devote himself exclusively to us." He left the little room and hurried down stairs. Just as he was turning the corner, he ran against a gentleman who was rushing up. Their mutual apologies died on their lips.
"You here, Edwin?"
"Marquard!"
"No less a personage," laughed the physician. "And in the best of company. But you—is Balder here?"
"It was impossible to persuade him, unfortunately. You know him."
"So you're alone? Well, you shall join our party at any rate. It's entirely composed of your acquaintances, except my little suburban nightingale. Just think, the dear innocent child wouldn't compromise herself by taking an excursion with me tete-a-tete. She insisted that her friend Christiane must go too, or she would stay at home. Now the excellent musician is really very disagreeable to me, for the express reason that she trains young and lively talent to virtue and Sebastian Bach. But what was I to do? The little one laconically told me we would be taken for husband and wife, wedded in true burgher fashion, and I gave up the point. So I went to Fräulein Christiane to invite her, wondering in case she accepted, whom I should ask as the fourth man—a pleasure party of three is absurd of course. I thought of you for a moment. Would you have come? Well, when I went into her room, I found Heinrich, the dissatisfied, sitting at her piano, talking his contradictory little tattle. Do you know I think he has designs in that quarter despite the ugliness of his sweetheart. What could I do but offer him the fourth seat in the carriage? I hoped he would say no, for as you're aware, he can't endure me. But quod non! he eagerly accepted, and so far everything has passed off charmingly. We're in high spirits, even before the champagne, and what fire-works of wit will be let off afterwards no one can tell. You'll come in just at the right moment, and on the way home it'll be so much the better, if we can't all find seats in one carriage."
"You're very kind," answered Edwin, smilingly releasing himself from the grasp of his friend who wanted to drag him away at once. "But I've brought a companion too, and it's doubtful—"
"Whom? Surely not—? Oh! you deepest of all philosophers—'yesterday on a proud steed, to-day shot through the heart'—the princess?"
Edwin nodded.
"And I let myself be deluded into giving him the address yesterday—well done! So we won't disturb you, but leave the fir and palm to themselves."
"You're very much mistaken," said Edwin with a half sigh, "True, as regards the temperature, tropical vegetation doesn't ill suit me, if palms only didn't mean victory; for in spite of our apparent intimacy, her highness is still as much surrounded by ice as ever. I really believe the best way to prevent the chill from finally producing the sleep of death, will be to bring her to you—if she's inclined to come, which I scarcely doubt."
"Bravo! I'll prepare the ladies. A relative of yours? A little cousin from the country."
"For aught I care. I pass for her cousin in the Rosenstrasse."
"Capital! I'll answer for our cousins. They'll be somewhat jealous, which will make our attentions rise in value, in other respects we shall be extremely agreeable. So in five minutes. The last room in the rear on this corridor. And the dinner's my affair."
He left Edwin at the door of his room and brushing his thin locks with a small pocket brush and humming a tune, returned to his friends.
"Ladies," said he, as he entered the room where Mohr and the two girls sat at a neatly laid table, "I must beg your pardon for a somewhat arbitrary act. A friend of mine with a very charming and highly respectable cousin are close beside us, under the same roof. I asked him to join us, he's already acquainted with two of you, as he is no less a personage than our friend Edwin, the philosopher."
"Another admirer of our musician?" exclaimed Mohr. "I ought to protest against it; I had subscribed for all the musical enthusiasm that would be developed to-day, since Maquard adores in artists only the charms of women. But be it so! This Edwin is an old friend of mine, and moreover deeply in debt to Fräulein Christiane for her daily free concerts."
"Isn't he a tall man with light hair, not exactly handsome, but interesting when he doesn't wear his old straw hat?" asked the little singer in a gay, twittering voice, from whose speaking tones one would never suppose that it could compass two octaves. At the first glance she looked strikingly pretty, but on a closer inspection one perceived that the features of the round face were not really harmonious, the large eyes and turned up nose, the sentimental mouth and sensual chin formed a strange contrast, and even her toilette was a bold composition of all sorts of fantastic fragments. She wore a tolerably ancient black velvet dress, which had once belonged to a much more stately prima donna, a singular looking scarf of tulle and lace,