The commentary of M. Nowosilitzoff, which followed upon the reading of the document, was interrupted by the arrival of the Comte Arthur Potocki, the youthful friend of the Prince de Ligne. Though a Pole, and animated by the most generous feelings towards his country, his presence vexed the privy councillor to such an extent as to cause him instantly to roll up his manuscript without adding another word, and to leave us shortly afterwards. The Comte Arthur Potocki, son of the Comte Jean of the illustrious family of that name, and one of the best educated men in Europe, had a noble face, an elegant figure, and a cultivated mind. At an age when most men spend their time in pleasure and frivolous pursuits, he was conspicuous for a sterling judgment, a wide knowledge, and the most exquisite politeness. It is not surprising then that he was one of the most notable men in Vienna society, and eminently fit to occupy a similar position everywhere. The Prince de Ligne was very fond of Arthur, whom he called his Alcibiades, and who in his turn worshipped the bright and witty octogenarian, so indulgent to young men. ‘Everything has been finally arranged for the imperial _carrousel_ (musical ride), which is irrevocably fixed for next week,’ said the young comte, ‘and I have brought you the tickets which the Grand-Marshal Trauttmansdorff has told me to remit to you. It will be one of the most brilliant spectacles ever witnessed. To-morrow night everybody in Vienna laying claim to be somebody is going to the Court to see the “living pictures” arranged by Isabey. They will be followed by romances sung and enacted by the handsomest women of the Court, the lovely Duchesse de Sagan, the Princesse Paul Esterhazy, the Comtesse Zichy, and several of our most elegant fair ones. Do not fail to come, gentlemen; you had better take advantage of the joyous hours. It is rumoured that the Congress will terminate on the 15th December. Good-bye, until to-morrow. Let the thought of the closing of the Congress be with you every moment, as it is with me.’ Saying which, he took his departure. The prince reminded me that I had promised to spend a few hours with him on that day at his house on the Kalemberg. Before going thither he wished to go to Isabey’s to sit for his portrait, and he asked me to accompany him. ‘During that hour of torture to me,’ he laughed, ‘you will have an opportunity of looking at a series of portraits from his brush. Isabey is the recorder of the Congress in pigments. And inasmuch as he is almost as clever with his tongue as with his brush, you’ll not waste your time.’ In a short time we reached the artist’s quarters in the Leopoldstadt. The front of the house was provided with a barrier to prevent the deadlock of the visitors’ carriages. Isabey’s arrival at Vienna had been preceded by his deserved reputation.[56]