The Countess Cosel Part 2

"You may laugh," continued Hoym, "but the man who has not seen her, has not seen Venus, and I think even Venus herself would look rather like a country washerwoman, if placed beside her. Can I describe her? In her eyes alone there is so much power that no mortal could resist her.

Praxiteles could not have shaped a more perfect form. It is impossible to describe the charm of her smile, and yet the stern G.o.ddess does not smile every day."

They nodded, but without believing what he said. Hoym would have stopped here, but the King said,--

"Describe her better, Hoym."

"Who can describe perfection?" said Hoym, raising his eyes. "She possesses every good quality, and has not one single drawback."

"I am quite ready to believe that she is beautiful," exclaimed Lagnasco, "for fickle Hoym has been constant to her for three years."

"He exaggerates! He is drunk!" interrupted Furstenberg. "Would you dare to say that she is more beautiful than the Princess Teschen?"

Hoym shrugged his shoulders, and glanced timidly at the King, who said quietly,--

"There must be no consideration, except for the truth. Is she more beautiful than Lubomirska?"

"Your Majesty," exclaimed Hoym enthusiastically, "the Princess is a beautiful woman, but my wife is a G.o.ddess. There is not another woman anywhere, at the court, in the city, in the whole of Saxony, or indeed in the whole of Europe, who is as beautiful as my wife!"

The hall re-echoed with a gigantic peal of wild laughter.

"Hoym is very amusing when he is drunk!"

"How funny the Secretary to the Treasury is!"

"What a very droll man!"

The King did not laugh. Hoym, under the influence of the Ambrosia, had evidently forgotten where he was, and to whom he was talking.

"Yes, laugh!" he exclaimed. "You all know me! You call me Don Juan; you acknowledge that I am a judge of female beauty. Why should I lie?"

Here he looked at the King and was terrified at the expression of his features. So terrified was he that he almost became sober. He would have liked to withdraw, but, being unable, he stood there pale and trembling.

In vain the others tried to make him talk further; Hoym only looked down at the floor and became thoughtful.

The King nodded to Kyan, who filled Hoym's gla.s.s with Ambrosia.

"We have drunk the health of our divine Hercules," cried Furstenberg, "now let us drink to the health of our G.o.dly Apollo!"

Some drank kneeling, others standing; Hoym, who had risen tottering, was obliged to lean on the table. The effects of the wine, that fear had checked for a time, returned. His head swam--he emptied his gla.s.s at one draught.

Behind the King's chair stood Furstenberg, whom that monarch caressingly called Furstchen. To him Apollo now turned,--

"Furstchen," said he quietly, "Hoym has not lied; he has been hiding his treasure from us for several years, we must force him to show it to us. Do what you please, no matter what the cost, but we must see her."

Furstenberg smiled; he and the others were much pleased at this. The King's present mistress, Princess Teschen, had against her all the friends of Chancellor Beichlingen, whom she had succeeded in overthrowing, and after whose downfall she had inherited the palace situated in Pirna Street, and although Furstenberg had served her against the other ladies who had laid siege to the King's heart, yet he was ready to serve Augustus against the whole world. Lubomirska's beauty was not very great; to tell the truth, she was somewhat _pa.s.see_, and her manners of a fine lady had begun to weary the King, who liked his mistresses to be of a more daring and more lively temperament. Furstenberg had guessed all this from the King's conversation. Rushing across to Hoym, he leant over his chair, and said aloud,--

"My dear Count, I am ashamed of you! You have lied most impudently, and in the presence of the King too. You have been practising a joke on him and on us. I admit that the wife of such a connoisseur as you are may, perhaps, not be a scarecrow, but to compare her to Venus, or even to the Princess Teschen, that is a wretched joke."

Again the wine began to act on Hoym's head.

"What I have said," exclaimed he angrily, "is nothing but the truth!

_Tausend Donner-wetter Potz und Blitz!_"

All laughed at the rough exclamation, but at such friendly reunions the King forgave all such liberties; and, while he was drinking, even common mortals were allowed to throw their arms round his neck, and kiss him, and were not afraid that their Hercules would turn and strangle them.

"I bet a thousand ducats," shouted Furstenberg, "that your wife is not more beautiful than any of the other ladies of the court."

They poured more wine into Hoym's gla.s.s, who now drank from despair.

"I accept!" said he, speaking through his clenched teeth.

"I will be the judge," said Augustus. "And we cannot postpone sentence; Hoym must bring his wife here immediately, and introduce her at the Queen's first ball."

"Write at once, Hoym! The King's courier will carry the letter to Laubegast," said Furstenberg.

"Yes, write; write!" resounded from all sides.

Paper was laid before him in a moment, and Furstenberg put a pen into his hand. The unfortunate Hoym, in whom the fear of the husband was aroused, as often as he remembered the gallantry of the King, could not tell how he ever wrote to his wife, commanding her to come to Dresden.

But in the twinkling of an eye, the paper was s.n.a.t.c.hed from his hand, and some one had rushed with it into the courtyard, and ordered the King's courier to ride with it at once to Laubegast.

"Furstenberg," whispered Augustus, "I can see by Hoym's face that, should he become sober to-day, he will send a counter order. We must make him dead drunk."

"He is so drunk already, that I fear for his life!" returned the Prince.

"I do not," replied Augustus quietly, "I hope I should be able to find some one to fill the office that would become vacant by his death."

The smile with which the King accompanied this speech had such an effect on those present, that they all crowded round Hoym, pouring wine into his gla.s.s, and suggesting toasts, with the result, that within half-an-hour Hoym fell asleep on the table, his face, pale as a corpse, his head hanging, and his mouth open. For the sake of security, they did not convey him home, but placed him instead in one of the King's rooms, where he was watched over by the giant Coja.n.u.s, who received orders not to let him return home, should he unexpectedly come to his senses.

Having got rid of him, they continued their carouse.

The King was now in an excellent humour, and the radiance of his countenance was reflected in the faces of his courtiers. Day was already dawning when two lackeys carried Augustus the Strong to bed. He had succ.u.mbed last of all, except Furstenberg, who, taking off his wig to cool his head, grew thoughtful, and muttered to himself,--

"So we shall have a new ruler, then. Lubomirska meddled too much with politics. She wished to subdue the king, but he does not require a mistress with brains! She has to love him, and amuse him; that is all her business. Now we shall see the Countess Hoym!"

CHAPTER II.

Laubegast is situated on the banks of the river Elbe, two hours' ride from Dresden. It is a small village, containing only a few better-cla.s.s dwellings, and these are hidden from view among old linden trees, and tall, black pines.

Count Hoym's villa was built in the French style, and ornamented as well as its modest size permitted. It was evident that its owner bestowed great care on the beauty of his house. The small courtyard was surrounded by an iron railing. Seen through the sheltering trees, the house looked like some lordly residence, but it was as quiet as a monastery.

There were no signs of gaiety about it. Two old lackeys and a few servants might be seen from time to time, walking near the house, and occasionally, towards evening, a lady would come forth, on whom the population of Laubegast would gaze with admiration, but always from behind the shelter of the bushes.

In truth, no one in the neighbourhood had ever before seen such a beautiful woman.

She was young, and tall, and a pair of bright, dark eyes gave animation to her pale face. There was something majestic in her movement as she walked. But she was sad, like a figure taken from a sarcophagus--she never smiled. She had dwelt here for several years, visited by no one save Hoym's sister, the Countess Vitzthum. It was thus that Count Hoym guarded his wife from the intrigues of the court, and he did not even like to see his sister too frequently visiting his wife's retreat. The Countess Vitzthum, however, only shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.