Ekkehard: A Tale of the Tenth Century. Vol. 1 (of 2)Scheffel, Joseph Victor von
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Ekkehard: A Tale of the Tenth Century. Vol. 1 (of 2)
Scheffel, Joseph Victor von
Hedwig, Herzogin von Schwaben, approximately 938-994 -- Fiction
"And all this splendour I have thrown away," sneered Dame Hadwig.
"Praxedis, thy picture is not complete, for on the following day, comes
the patriarch, to hold a sharp discourse with the western Christian,
and to instruct her in all the heresies, which flourish on the barren,
arid soil of your religion, like deadly nightshade and henbane. Then I
am instructed what to believe of their monkish pictures and the decrees
of the Councils of Chalcedon and Nicaea. After him comes the mistress
of the ceremonies, to teach me the laws of etiquette and court-manners;
what expression to wear on my face, and how to manage my train; when
to prostrate myself before the emperor and when to embrace my
mother-in-law. Further, how to treat this favourite with courtesy, and
to use this or that monstrous form of speech, in addressing some
wonderful personage: 'If it please your Eminence, your Highness, your
adorable Greatness!'--Whatever can be called originality and natural
strength is nipped in the bud, and my Lord and Master turns out to be a
painted doll like the rest. Then perhaps some fine morning the enemy
appears before the gates, or the successor is not to the liking of the
blues and greens of the Circus; revolution rages through the streets,
and the German duke's daughter is put into a convent bereft of her
eyesight ... what good does it do her then, that her children were
addressed as their Highnesses when still in the cradle? Therefore,
Praxedis, I did not go to Constantinople!"
"The emperor is the Master of the universe, and his will is for ever
just," said the Greek, "so I have been taught to believe."
"Hast thou ever reflected, that it is a very precious boon, for a man
to be his own master?"
"No," said Praxedis.
The turn which the conversation had taken pleased the Duchess.
"What account of me did your Byzantine painter, who was sent to take my
likeness, carry home, I wonder?"
The Greek maid seemed not to have heard the question. She had risen
from her seat and gone to the window.
"Praxedis," said the Duchess with asperity, "I want an answer."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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