The Romance of the Canoness: A Life-HistoryHeyse, Paul
General
The Romance of the Canoness: A Life-History
Heyse, Paul
German fiction -- Translations into English
"Silence!" he shouted, his mustache quivering with excitement. "You
have heard that you have nothing more to ask or expect here, and if you
carry your insolence so far as to throw upon a member of this family
the suspicion of standing in any relation whatever to the head of a
band of jugglers, the baron, whose patience amazes me, will have you
driven out of his grounds by the field-guard. Do you understand, sir?
And, now, without further ceremony--"
He advanced another step toward him and, with a threatening gesture,
raised the hand that held the whip. But the actor did not cease playing
his _role_ of hero for an instant.
"Who are you, sir?" he exclaimed, without yielding an inch, "that you
dare to assume a tone whose ill-breeding befits no cultured man. You
seem to be abandoned by all the Muses and Graces, and I pity you. It
can hardly surprise me that a country nobleman has never heard the name
of Konstantin Spielberg. But in any other place I would call you to
account for speaking of my company of artists, which has been honored
by the concession of a distinguished government, as a band of jugglers.
In this house, and out of respect for the ladies present, I can only
say that I include you among the profane _vulgus_ whose opinion I
despise."
He raised his right arm with an impressive gesture, as though hurling
an anathema against some worthless heretic or insulter of majesty, and
at the same time, with expanded chest and locks tossed back, fearlessly
confronted his foe. Then something happened which drew from me a low
exclamation of terror. The riding-whip whizzed through the air and
struck the uplifted hand of the artist, who staggered back, speechless
with pain and rage.
"Scoundrel!" cried the nobleman's sharp voice, "dare--dare you tell me
to my face--"
But he could say no more. The Canoness, whose approach had been
unnoticed, suddenly stood between the furious men with her tall figure
drawn up to its full height.
"Back!" she said imperiously to the young nobleman. It was only one
word, but uttered in a tone that must have pierced to the very marrow
of his bones, for I saw him turn as white as chalk, stammer a few
unmeaning words, and draw his head between his shoulders. But, without
vouchsafing him even a glance, she went up to the ill-treated stranger,
seized the hand hanging loosely down, on which a deep-red mark was
visible, and stooping, pressed a hasty kiss upon it.
Then in a loud voice, trembling with secret emotion, she said: "Forgive
this poor creature, he does not know what he is doing. And now shake
off the dust of this house from your shoes. You will hear from me
again."
Once more a deathlike stillness pervaded the hall. But it lasted only a
few minutes. Then we heard the actor say: "I shall be your debtor to my
dying day, most gracious lady."
The next instant he turned toward the door, passed me with haughty,
echoing strides, and went out upon the steps.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account