She spoke with the son without any embarrassment about the Knight of the Fleece having been presented by her and her Court with a (flower-) basket,[4] and extolled his knowledge of art. "Art," said she, "makes in the end all lands alike and agreeable. When that is once had, one thinks of nothing further. At Dresden, in the inner gallery, I really believed I was in joyous Italy. Yes, if one should go to Italy itself, one would forget even Italy in the midst of all that one finds there." Albano answered, "I know, I too shall one day intoxicate myself with the old wine of art, and glow under it; but for the present it is to me merely a beautiful, blooming vineyard, whose powers I certainly know beforehand, without as yet feeling them." The Princess won his esteem so exceedingly, that he put the question to her, when the Prince, a few steps onward, was surveying from the window the swelling flood of the Pestitz escort, how the German ceremonies of her rank struck her artistic taste. "Tell me," said she, lightly, "what station among us has not full as many, and where, in the whole range of situations, do not priests and advocates play their part? Just look for once at the marriages of the imperial cities. The Germans are herein no better nor worse than any other nation, old or new, wild or polished. Think of Louis Fourteenth. Once for all, such is man; but I do not, of course, respect him for that." The Prince reminded them now of the hour of march; and the Princess mustered together, by way of attiring herself for the grand _entrée_, more, dressing-maids and toilet-boxes than Albano, according to her words, or we, according to the cartilages of her nose,--which seemed spiritual wing-bones,--should have expected. Her hurrying people followed her with more dread than reverence for her rank or character; and some, who occasionally ran by out of the dressing-chamber, had downcast faces. At last she appeared again, but much fairer than before. There must surely belong to the manliest woman more charming womanliness than we think, since such a one gains by female finery, by which the most effeminate man would only lose. "Rank," said she to Albano, showing a great candor in opinions, which easily consists with a quite as great reserve in emotions, "oppresses and confines a great soul oftentimes less than sex." Her calling herself a great soul could not but strike the Count, because he now saw before him the first example--another man knows innumerable examples--of the fact, that distinguished women praise themselves outright, and far more than distinguished men.