The Journal of Countess Françoise Krasinska, Great Grandmother of Victor Emmanuel — John Shaqi
The Journal of Countess Françoise Krasinska, Great Grandmother of Victor EmmanuelTańska-Hoffmanowa, Klementyna
History
The Journal of Countess Françoise Krasinska, Great Grandmother of Victor Emmanuel
Tańska-Hoffmanowa, Klementyna
Diary fiction; Franciszka Krasińska, Countess, consort of Charles, Duke of Courland, 1743-1796 -- Fiction
I do not know at all how I bowed, but I fear it was not that
special courtesy which the dancing-master taught me. Neither do I
know what the duke said to me; I only remember that he opened the
ball with the princess, and danced the second polonaise with me.
Then when he talked, to my great surprise, I answered without any
embarrassment. He inquired about my honored Parents, about Madame
Starostine, and her wedding. I wondered how he knew so well about
everything, when I recollected that the Castellanic Kochanowski was
his favorite. The good boy has not only "digested the goose with
the black gravy," but he gave the duke the best report of us all.
"He praised you much, but not half enough," said the duke. I heard
many other nice things during that dance and the following ones,
for the duke invited me for almost all the minuets and quadrilles,
and talked to me all the time.
When at midnight they fired the cannon as a sign of the
beginning of the new year, he said to me, "I shall forever
remember this night; it is not only a new year, it is the
beginning of a new life for me." And how many clever comparisons
about my costume! (Only, it does not sound as well in any other
language as in French.) "It was not the gold on my breast which
was the sun, but rather my eyes; their glance lighted an eternal
fire in the heart, etc., etc." Finer compliments could not be
found in the novels of Mademoiselle de Scudéry or Madame
Lafayette.
Can all that be only sham, courtly civility? It is a pity I
cannot ask anybody about it, but I am afraid of the princess,
and I cannot ask the Prince Woivode; it would not be proper to
talk about those things to a man. I feel too much left to
myself; one week ago I was a school-girl among books and
teachers, and to-day I am playing a part in the world of which I
know nothing. But in about ten days Basia is coming here; she is
so wise she will enlighten me. I am so very happy thinking that
she will come. I have not seen that dearest sister of mine for
three quarters of the year, but I know that she is more and
more happy, more and more beloved by her husband.
When shall I see the duke again? Will he recognize me in my
every-day dress?
_Friday_, January 3.
I have seen the duke, I have seen him twice, and I am laughing
now at that childish anxiety I had, wondering if he would
recognize me. Why, I should always know him, no matter how well
disguised he might be.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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