German fiction -- Translations into English; Holy Roman Empire -- History -- Charles V, 1519-1556 -- Fiction
When the leech had retired, Barbara regretted that she had answered him
so indifferently. But the anticipation of seeing her imperial lover
again dominated every thought and feeling. Besides, she again and again
saw before her the figure of the young duke, whom she had never beheld,
but whom Charles had married to the daughter of that Johanna who was said
to have been neither more beautiful nor more aristocratic than she
herself.
Frau Traut saw compassionately that she could not remain long quietly in
any place, and that when the noon meal was served she scarcely tasted
food.
As soon as the first blast of the horns rose from the gate of the citadel
she urged departure like an impatient child, and her indulgent companion
yielded, though she knew that the stately ceremonial would not begin for
a long time.
The window which Adrian had assigned to the two women in a room which was
to be occupied by them alone afforded a view of the entire courtyard, and
from the arm-chair which Frau Traut had had brought for her Barbara gazed
down into it with strained attention.
The first sound of the horns had saluted Ottavio Farnese.
Mounted on a spirited charger, he held aloft, as gonfaloniere of the
Church, the proud banner to be whose bearer was deemed by the Dukes of
Parma one of their loftiest titles of honour.
He was greeted by the nobles present with loud acclamations, but was
still booted and attired as beseemed a horseman. The cavaliers,
officers, and pages who attended him entered the citadel in no regular
order. But as Ottavio swung himself from his magnificently formed,
cream-coloured steed, and issued orders to his train, Barbara could look
him directly in the face and, though she thought him neither handsome nor
possessed of manly vigour, she could not help admitting that she had
rarely seen a young man of equally distinguished bearing. His every
movement bore the impress of royal self-confidence, yet at the same time
was unconstrained and graceful.
Now he disappeared in the wing of the building that united the ladies'
rooms with the main structure opposite.
The Emperor Charles could not be here yet. His arrival would not have
been passed by so quietly, and the imperial banner did not float either
from the many-sided turret at the left end of the main building nor from
the lofty roof of the ancient Wittelsbach tower. Great nobles, mounted
on splendid chargers, constantly rode into the citadel, sometimes in
groups, and were saluted by the blast of horns; nimble squires led the
horses away, while ducal councillors, nobles, chamberlains, and ushers
received the distinguished guests of the citadel and conducted them to
the Turnitz, the huge banquet hall in the lower story of the main
building, where the best of everything undoubtedly stood ready for them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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