Читать книгу Count Brühl - Józef Ignacy Kraszewski - Страница 5

'I am thankful to Him,' said Brühl quietly.

'Remain faithful to the creed to which you have opened your heart, and you shall see.' He raised his hand. 'You shall go far, far. I am telling you that. I am poor and humble, but I am the Lord's servant.'

He looked at the humble page, and having accomplished his pious duty, added joyfully:

'Have you been to the opera? How did Celesta sing? Did the King look at her? Was the Prince there?'

Padre Guarini was the name of the man to whom Brühl paid this visit; he was the Prince's confessor, confidant of the Princess, spiritual father of the young count, but he seemed to care as much about the opera as about the conversion of the young man sitting before him.

He asked about the tenor, the orchestra, the audience, and at length if the page went behind the stage.

'I?' asked Brühl with astonishment.

'I should think no worse of you for that, if for the sake of music, of art, you wished to see how those angels look as common mortals, divested of the glitter and sparkle of the stage. Celesta sang like an angel but she is ugly as a devil. There is no danger that the King will fall in love with her.'

And Padre Guarini laughed.

'And who rules over the King?' asked he. And without waiting for an answer, he said: 'It seems that, just as in Poland, the election is coming.'

He laughed again.

'But tell me something new; besides that you have become the King's secretary.'

'I have nothing to say, except that nothing can change my heart.'

'Yes, yes, I advise you to be a good Catholic, although secretly. We can't expect from the present King much zeal for the faith. We must be satisfied with him as he is, but his successor will be different; our pious lady Josepha will not permit him to leave the path of truth. The Prince is pious, a faithful husband, a zealous Catholic. When he becomes ruler we shall be mighty. Let us be patient and we will manage the Protestants. Chi va 'piano, va sano--qui va sano, va lontano!' He repeated the word lontano several times and sighed.

'As a souvenir of this fortunate day,' added he, 'I must bless you; it will bring you good luck. Wait.'

Padre Guarini pulled out a drawer and took from it a black rosary on which were a cross and medallion.

'The Holy Father blessed it; to the one who recites it every day, pardon is granted.'

Brühl murmured something indistinctly by way of thanks, kissed his hand and rose.

Padre Guarini bent over and whispered something in his ear. The page, having nodded in the affirmative, kissed his hand again and went out. The old servant awaited him at the door with a candle. Brühl gave him a thaler, wrapped himself in his mantle and descended the stairs. On reaching the door he looked cautiously down the street, and seeing no one pressed forward. Then he stopped, seeming in doubt as to where to go. He put the rosary which he was holding in his hand in a side pocket, and looked for a familiar house near St Sophia Church.

He glanced round once more. The door was opened. A little oil lamp gave a pale light. The spacious Gothic hall was quiet and solitary. Brühl rang the bell on the first floor. A female servant came and opened it.

'Is the minister at home?' he asked.

'Yes, sir, but he is engaged with visitors.'

'Visitors?' repeated Brühl, hesitating as to what to do. 'Who is there?'

'Some pious young men from Leipzig.'

Brühl was still hesitating, when a dignified middle-aged man appeared in the doorway and conducted him to a further apartment.

'I do not wish to intrude,' said the page, bowing.

'You never intrude,' said the host coolly and distinctly. 'The people will not crowd my house any more now. Pray, come in. In a Protestant country one enters a clergyman's house secretly, as the first Christians did into the catacombs. Glory to those who pass our threshold.'

So saying he entered with Brühl into a large, modestly furnished room. Here were two young men, and it seemed to Brühl that he knew the taller of the two. He could not however remember where he had seen him. The tall man also looked attentively at Brühl, and approaching him, said:

'If I am not mistaken, this is the second time we have met. I am indebted to your kindness that I did not fall into the hands of the King's servants and was not treated as a vagabond.'

'Count Zinzendorf--'

'Brother in Christ,' answered the youth, 'and were you Catholic, Aryan, Wicklyffite or of any denomination, I should always greet you as a brother in Christ.'

The host, whose face was severe and to whom bushy, contracted eyebrows gave a still more gloomy expression groaned.

'Count, let your dreams alone; the chaff must be separated from the grain, although they both grow on one stem.'

Brühl was silent.

'What news from the court?' asked the host. 'There does not seem to be any change; prayers in the morning, opera in the evening. But pray be seated.'

They all sat. Zinzendorf looked at Brühl piercingly, as though wishing to penetrate into his soul, but those windows, Brühl's beautiful eyes, through which he hoped to look within him, avoided meeting his.

'Is it true that they are going to build a Catholic church?' asked the host.

'I don't know anything definite about it,' answered Brühl.

'It would be scandalous!' the minister moaned.

'Why?' interrupted Zinzendorf. 'We complain that they are not tolerant; should we then retaliate? The glory of Christ may be sung in many ways. Why not by Catholics as well as by us?'

Brühl nodded in the affirmative, but as he did so he encountered a severe glance from the host; so he stopped the gesture, and changed his expression into a double-faced smile.

'Count,' said the minister, 'those are the ideas of youth, beautiful in your mouth, but impossible in life. As one cannot sit on two chairs, so one cannot confess two religions, for in that case, like some people in very high positions, we have no religion.'

The minister sighed; they all understood to whom he was alluding. Brühl pretended not to hear; perchance he was sorry he had fallen among these men, discussing such delicate questions. Zinzendorf, on the contrary, seemed to be perfectly happy.

'But how can we spread the truth and convert the people if we mix not with those of other creeds? Christ mixed with Pharisees and heathens and converted them by His kindness.'

'You are young, and you dream,' sighed the minister, 'but when you will be called upon to fight, and to change your dreams into action--'

'That's what I desire!' the young enthusiast cried, lifting his hands. 'Did I only love myself, I would go into the desert to seek for Christ in contemplation; but I love my fellow-man, everybody, even those who are in error; that is why I shall act and try to realise my dreams, as you put it.'

The minister, Brühl, and the other young man, each listened with quite different feelings. The first stood gloomy and irritated, the second was embarrassed although he smiled, and the other was filled with admiration for each of his friend's words.

'I think that your zeal,' said the minister, 'would diminish at court.'

'Shall we have the pleasure of seeing you at the court?' Brühl asked quietly.

'Never!' exclaimed Zinzendorf. 'I, at court? There is no power that could bring me there. My court is where there are poor people, my future is to apply Christ's teaching to my life. I go to preach Christ's love. At court I should be sneered at.--I shall search for another field in order to accomplish that whereunto I am called.'

'But your family, Count?' said the minister.

'My father is in heaven,' answered Zinzendorf. 'To Him alone I owe obedience.'

Brühl came to the conclusion that he had nothing to do there. Zinzendorf frightened him by his extraordinary speech. He took the minister aside, whispered with him for a moment, and took his leave. He bowed from afar in true courtly manner to the apostle and went out. It would be difficult to say whether he was more sincere with the Jesuit or with the minister, but the fact remains that although he visited both, he flattered Padre Guarini more than the Rev. Knofl.

In the street Brühl again hesitated. The Prince's palace was not far distant. Two guards were at the door. The young page went into the courtyard and ran to the left wing. The open door and the light in the window tempted him to try his luck at the court also. Here lived the Countess Kolowrath, lady in waiting to the princess, her favourite, a much respected and middle-aged lady; she was fond of the young page, who would bring her all the gossip of the court.

He could enter her apartments at any hour of the day, and took advantage of that privilege very freely, but in such, a way as not to be seen by the people, or to give them a chance to know about his intimacy with the Countess.

In the ante-room a lackey, in the court livery, opened the door and showed in the page. Brühl entered on tip-toe. The drawing-room was lighted with a few wax candles. To the right, through the half-opened door a stream of bright light was seen, and at the noise of Brühl's shoes on the shining parquetry floor, a child's head appeared.

Brühl stepped softly forward.

'Ah! it's you. Monsieur Henry,' said a fresh voice. 'Wait a moment.'

The head disappeared, but soon the door opened wide and an eight year old girl came to it. She wore a satin dress ornamented with lace, silk à jour stockings, shoes with high heels; her hair was curled and powdered, and she looked more like a doll than a child. She smiled to Brühl, curtseyed to him, as it was customary in the court and as she was taught by her maître de ballet, Monsieur Favier. She had the comically serious mien of those china figures made in Meissen.

Brühl bowed to her as he would have done to an elderly lady. The child looked seriously at him with a pair of big black eyes, but all at once her seriousness forsook her and she burst into laughter. The comedy was over.

'How do you do, Henry?'

'And how is her Excellency?'

'Her Excellency, my mother, prays with the Princess. Padre Guarini recites a litany, and I am bored. Listen, Brühl, let us play at court; I shall be the queen and you the great chamberlain.'

'I would do it willingly, my dear Frances,' but I must return to the King's service before playing.'

'You are not polite towards the ladies!' answered the little Countess with the air of an old lady, which made her very amusing.

'I will not love you, and should you ever fall in love with me--'

'Ah! yes, it will be soon,' said Brühl laughing.

'Then you will see how cruel I shall be,' added Frances.

Saying this she almost turned her back on Brühl, took a fan from a chair, inclined her head backwards, pouted her lips and looked at Brühl with contempt. In the eyes of that girl there was already reflected the frivolity of the times.

Brühl stood enchanted and the scene would perhaps have lasted much longer had it not been interrupted by the rustling of a silk gown and then by laughter.

'Francesca! Brühl, you are courting my daughter.'

The lady who said these words, was tall, majestic, still very beautiful, and above all had an aristocratic bearing. She was Frances's mother. Frances did not become confused, she repeated her curtsey and then ran to her. Brühl bowed humbly and then looked with ecstasy into the Countess's black eyes.

She was no longer young but her features were still very beautiful. The whiteness of her complexion was enhanced by black hair, that night innocent of powder, but carefully dressed. Her figure, notwithstanding its ample form, was still graceful. She looked at the page with half-closed eyes.

'Frances,' said she, 'go to Fraülein Braun; I must have some conversation with Henry.'

The girl looked roguishly at her mother and disappeared through the door. The Countess, rapidly moving her fan, walked to and fro in the room, then bending towards Brühl, spoke confidentially.

Brühl followed her respectfully, although sometimes he approached perchance too near.

Even the pictures on the walls heard not that conversation, and half an hour later the page was sitting in the King's ante-room, apparently dozing.