The Devil's Elixir, Vol. 1 (of 2)Hoffmann, E. T. A. (Ernst Theodor Amadeus)
Science
The Devil's Elixir, Vol. 1 (of 2)
Hoffmann, E. T. A. (Ernst Theodor Amadeus)
Devil -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction, German -- Translations into English; Gothic fiction; Monks -- Fiction
During my residence at Frankenburg, I did not omit to visit some of the
many houses of public resort, in which people met to breakfast, _a la
fourchette_; to dine, to sup, and enjoy the pleasures of wine, gaming,
and conversation. Accordingly, I soon felt a particular preference for a
certain hotel in the middle of the town, where, on account of the
superior quality of the wines, a numerous society were to be found every
night.
At a table, in a room adjoining to the great _salle_, I found regularly,
at a fixed hour in the evening, the same persons assembled. Their
conversation was always lively and ingenious. Accident at last brought
me acquainted with these people, who had thus formed an especial circle
for themselves, and who for some time shewed no disposition to bestow on
me any share of their attention.
At first, I used to sit quietly in a corner of the room, and drink my
wine alone; but on one occasion it so happened that I was able to afford
them information on a literary topic which they were discussing, and
was in consequence invited to a place at their table, which afterwards
was the more willingly kept open for me, as my good address and the
extent of my reading and acquirements exactly suited their dispositions.
Thus I obtained, without trouble, some very agreeable acquaintances; and
accustoming myself more and more to the world, I became every day more
unconcerned, and was able, in great measure, to rub off the rust of my
former habits.
For several evenings there had been much talk in this society of a
certain painter, (an entire stranger in the town,) who had lately
arrived, and during the fair was to hold an exhibition of his works.
Every member of the society but myself had seen his pictures, and
praised them so highly, that I of course felt anxious for an opportunity
of judging for myself, and went accordingly.
The painter was absent when I entered his exhibition-room, but an old
man acted as _cicerone_, and named the masters of various old pictures
which the artist exhibited along with his own. Among them were many
admirable pieces, most of them originals, of celebrated Italian masters,
with which I was highly delighted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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