"According to my views," replied Kuhl, "Signora Bollini would do well to think of a retreat, to marry a Russian prince and to enjoy the comfort which would make it possible for her without _arias_, without trills and _fioriture_ to rule over thousands of souls." "Why then?" asked Blanden, who until now had listened silently, but with strained attention to the conversation. "Because her voice is already ruined." Dr. Kohl's daring suggestion met with most animated opposition. "Or--it will soon be so. I possess a sharp ear for such things, I need no stethescope; I can already detect, in her voice a slight autumnal rustle; soon its mellowness will be gone. Believe me--I am an experienced prophet therein, and one of those privileged doctors who proclaim the inevitable evil with greatest certainty. Did I not predict to Fräulein Burg that her organ was on the wane while she still seemed able to sing down the walls of Jericho with a flourish of trumpets? And how quickly it set in! It crackles and breaks suddenly even if it do still rustle like heavy satin! And there is no remedy for it--I could at most prescribe the Russian prince to the Signora." "You make our souls shudder with foreboding at this prophecy," cried the Professor, while he looked anxiously at the clock, for he did not wish to reach home later than Euphrasia, because Lori had lately expressed an opinion that being out late was ruinous to his health. "This medical wisdom," cried Schöner angrily, "might be capable of spoiling all our enjoyment of life. The gentlemen can no longer cure, but they recognise the least disturbance in the mechanism of life; they carry our verdict of death upon their lips, and know about the period when it will be executed; but to obtain a full pardon from implacable Nature lies quite beyond their capabilities. There I extol the poets; they glorify the beautiful present, the blessed today, and leave to-morrow to the black-visioned prophet and to the uncertain whim of destiny." The party broke up, Blanden made enquiries of the poet as to the singer's abode, and while he walked alone with Kuhl across the moonlit castle yard, said to him-- "With what a trembling heart I passed through that door when I went to the Frau Gräfin's court, that beautiful witness of the Apocalypse! Another time has come and wafted away all the spectre, but also has demanded a tardy victim! For me it was a crushing blow, I did not dare to live any longer. From to-day I dare it again, all the spirits of my life are stirred, because that Signora Bollini is my _principessa_ of Lago Maggiore." CHAPTER VIII. IN THE BOURDOIR. The play-bill announced that in consequence of Signora Bollini's hoarseness the performance of the "_Somnambula_" would not take place, "_der Freischütz_" was substituted for it.