German fiction -- Translations into English; Holy Roman Empire -- History -- Charles V, 1519-1556 -- Fiction
It had been a sorry pleasure to her to watch the boisterous manner and
singing of this creature, who had been far too highly favoured by the
caprice of Fortune.
These reckless songs, unless she was mistaken, had also been by no means
pleasing to his Majesty. The light had fallen directly upon his face
just as she happened to glance up at the house from under the group of
lindens, and she had distinctly seen him angrily thrust out his
lower lip, which every one near his person knew was a sign of extreme
displeasure.
But the girl had gone beyond all bounds. Old as she was, she could not
help blushing at the mere thought of it. In her reckless mood she had
probably forgotten that she had drawn her imperial lover into her net
by arts of an entirely different nature. The almoner listened
incredulously, for in his youth the Emperor Charles had joined in the
wildest songs of the soldiery, and had well understood, on certain
occasions, how to be merry with the merry, laugh and carouse in a
Flemish tavern. After the confession the almoner heard things to which
he would gladly have shut his ears, though they proved that the time
which the marquise had spent at the French court had benefited her
powers of observation.
Three days before the Emperor, for the first time, had seriously found
fault with Barbara.
It had been impossible for the lady in waiting to discover the cause;
but what she knew certainly was that her lover’s censure had roused
the girl to vehement contradiction, and that his Majesty, after a sharp
reply, had been on the point of leaving her. True, the reckless beauty
had repented her imprudent outburst of wrath speedily enough, and had
understood how to conciliate the far too indulgent sovereign by such
humility and such sweet tenderness that he probably must have forgiven
her--at least the farewell had been as affectionate as ever.
Nevertheless, on the following evening, for the first time, he did not
come to the castle, and the marquise had feared that the Emperor might
now withdraw his favour from Barbara, which would have been too soon for
her own wishes.
But yesterday evening, after sunset, the dark litter, to the old
noblewoman’s relief, had again stopped behind the garden gate, and the
pleasure of having her lover again had so deeply overjoyed Barbara that
he, too, was infected by her radiant delight.
Then, in the midst of the most tender caresses, he had been summoned out
of the room, and when he returned, with frowning brow, the marquise had
witnessed at least the commencement of a scene which seemed to justify
her opinion that his Majesty: would have no taste for Barbara’s utter
freedom from restraint and gay secular songs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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