第87章

"I believe so, they say so," answered the count, rather absent-minded. "I have not seen her for some days.""What is the matter?" asked the duke, as Goethe was engaged in a lively conversation with the duchess. "Is the dear countess dangerously ill?""Oh, no," answered Goechhausen, "not very ill, only in love with genius, a malady which has attacked us all more or less since that mad fellow Wolfgang Goethe has raged in Weimar, and made it a place of torment to honorable people. Oh, Goethe--oh, Wolf! with what lamb-like innocence we wandered in comfortable sheep's clothing until you came and fleeced us, and infected us with your 'Sturm und Dranger' malady, and made us fall in love with your works!""Goechhausen, hold your malicious tongue, and do not hide your own joy beneath jest and mockery," cried the duchess. "Acknowledge that you are rejoiced to see your favorite, and that you will hasten to write to Madam Aja, 'Our dear duke has returned, and my angel, my idol, Wolfgang, also.' I assure you, Goethe, Thusnelda loves you, and was exceedingly melancholy during your absence. If asked the cause of her sadness, she wept like--""Like a crocodile," said the duke. "Oh, I know those tears of Fraulein Goechhausen; I could relate stories of her crocodile nature. Mother, how can you have such a monster in your society? Why not make the cornes, that the little devils may fly away?""Very good," cried the little, crooked lady. "I see your highness has not changed by this journey. Where have you been, dear duke? Oh, I remember; you flew over the Rhine, and have flown home again quite unchanged."All laughed, the duke louder than any one. "Goechhausen, you are a glorious creature, and the Arminius is to be envied who appropriates this Thusnelda. Oh, I see the charming youth before me, who has the courage to make this German wife his own!""I will scratch his eyes out?" cried Goechhausen, "and then the Countess Werther can play Antigone, and lead him around as Oedipus.

Why shut your eyes, Einsiedel? I do not scratch quite yet.""I was not thinking of that," said the baron, astonished.

"You never think that every one knows; but did you not do it so soon as you understood the Countess Werther should lead blind Oedipus as Antigone?"Before the count could answer, the court lady turned again to the duke. "What did your highness bring me? I hope you have not forgotten that you promised me a handsome present.""No, I have not forgotten it; I have brought my Thusnelda a souvenir--such a gift!""What is it, your highness?"

"A surprise which, if Thusnelda is clever, she must think about all night.--But, Goethe, is it not time to leave the ladies?""Wait, I command you both," said the Duchess Amelia, extending her hand to her son, who pressed it to his lips most affectionately. "Ihave given out invitations for a soiree, for this evening. My daughter-in-law, the Duchess Louisa, has accepted, duke, and Frau von Stein also, Goethe. I hope to see you at Belvedere, gentlemen.

The poet Gleim is in town, and will read his late 'Muse Almanach.'

May I not expect both of you?"

They joyfully consented, gazing after the merry society as it drove away. "This is a good bite for the poisonous tongues of the honorable," cried the duke. "My mother in a farm-wagon, with Wieland's green overcoat on, and the reigning duke, with his Goethe, entering his capital on foot like a journeyman mechanic, after a long journey!""I wish we were there, my dearest friend," sighed Goethe.

"Oh, love makes you impatient! Come on, then. But listen, we must play Gochhausen a trick; I have promised her a surprise. Will you help me, Wolf?""With pleasure, duke."

"I have thought of something very droll, and your servant Philip must help us; he is a clever fellow, and can keep his own counsel.""He is silent as the grave, duke."

"That is necessary for such a gentleman as the women all run after.

Let us skip down the mountain, and then forward where our hearts incline us. This afternoon I will go for you and bring you to Belvedere, and then we can talk over the surprise." They ran down the declivity into the suburb, to the terror of the good people, who looked after them, saying that the young duke had returned with his mad protege. The "mad favorite" seemed more crazy than ever to-day, for after a brief farewell to the duke, he bounded through the streets across the English park, to the loved house, the roof of which he had so longingly greeted from the hillside. The door stood open, as is customary in small towns, and the servant in the vestibule came to meet him, and respectfully announced that her master had gone to his estate at Hochberg, but that Frau von Stein was most probably in the pavilion, in the garden, as she had gone thither with her guitar. "Is she alone?" asked Goethe. The servant answered in the affirmative, and through the court hastened the lover--not through the principal entrance, as he would surprise her, and read in her sweet face whether she thought of him. Softly he opened the little garden gate, and approached the pavilion by a side-alley. Do his feet touch the ground, or float over it? He knew not; he heard music, accompanied by a sweet, melodious voice. It was Charlotte's. Goethe's face beamed with delight and happiness. He gazed at her unseen, not alone with his eyes, but heart and soul went forth to her. She sat sideways to the door; upon a table lay her notes, and the guitar rested upon her arm. She sang, in a rich, sweet voice, Reinhardt's beautiful melody: