Courts and courtiers -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English; Germany -- Fiction
Next time he was alone with her, or as good as alone, because Countess
Löwenjoul was the third, it was a cool, over-cast morning, after a break
in the weather the night before. They rode along the meadow-woods, Klaus
Heinrich in high boots, with the crook of his crop suspended between the
buttons of his grey cloak. The sluices at the wooden bridge up stream
were shut, the bed of the stream lay empty and stony. Percival, whose
first outburst had died down, jumped here and there or trotted sideways,
dog-fashion, in front of the horses. The Countess, on Isabeau, kept her
head on one side and smiled. Klaus Heinrich was saying: "I'm always
thinking, night and day, about something which must have been a dream. I
lie at night and can hear Florian over in the stall snuffling, it's so
quiet. And then I think, for certain it was no dream. But when I see you
as I do to-day, and did the other day at tea, I cannot possibly think it
anything more substantial."
She replied: "I must ask you to explain yourself, Sire."
"Did you show me your books nineteen days ago, Miss Spoelmann--or not?"
"Nineteen days ago! I must count up. No; let's see, it's eighteen and a
half days, unless I'm quite out."
"You did show me your books, then?"
"That is undoubtedly correct, Prince. And I delude myself with the hope
that you liked them."
"Oh, Imma, you mustn't talk like that, not now and not to me! My heart
is so heavy, and I have such lots still to say to you, which I couldn't
get out nineteen days ago, when you showed me your books ... your masses
of books. How I should love to carry on where we broke off then, and to
forget all that lies in between...."
"For heaven's sake, Prince, rather forget the other. Why go back to it?
Why remind yourself and me? I thought you had good reason to observe the
strictest silence on such subjects. Fancy letting yourself go like that!
Losing your self-possession to such a degree!"
"If you only knew, Imma, how unutterably pleasant it is for me to lose
my self-possession!"
"No, thanks. That's insulting, do you know that? I insist on your
showing the same self-possession towards me as towards the rest of the
world. I'm not here to provide you with relaxation from your princely
existence."
"How entirely you misunderstand me, Imma! But I am well aware that you
do so deliberately and only in fun, and that shows me that you don't
believe me and don't take what I say seriously...."
"No, Prince, you really ask too much. Haven't you told me about your
life? You went to school for show, to the University for show, you
served as a soldier for show, and still wear the uniform for show, you
hold audiences for show, and play at rifle-shooting and heaven knows
what else for show; you came into the world for show, and am I suddenly
to believe that there is anything serious about you?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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