Short Stories From Austria- Ferdinand Von Saar Read online

  So we did not meet too often outside of duty, most often in the Burgtheater, which, understandably, I visited as often as I could, while Burda alternated with the opera every other day. If we happened to be in the foyer after the performance, we would go home together, for supping after the theater did not allow our means. On the other hand, he sometimes invited me in a gracious mood to take tea with him, which, however, was to be understood in the purest sense of the word, as generally rum and cream were missing and at most some white bread appeared as an aftertaste.

  One day I had just sat down at the desk to tackle the second song of a larger poem, which I had been led to believe under the guise of Ernst Schulze's “Charmed Rose,” as I murmured at the connecting door The sound of a thunderous beating and finally the voice of Burda heard: “Am I interrupting, if I pass over for a moment?”

  Although this interruption did not suit me very much, it was self-evident that I called out: “Oh, not in the least! I will be very happy to see you with me. “And with that I hurried to the entrance to receive Burda, who soon came to me with a folded paper in his hand.

  After asking him to sit in one of the two brown-painted chairs that formed a large part of my room, I asked him what brought him to me.

  “I've written a few verses here,” he said, “and since I know that you're writing poetry, I wanted to ask you to look through the poem, to see if there were any breaches of the meter or other mistakes, Will you do me this favor?”

  “With the greatest pleasure,” I replied, taking the sheet. It contained ten to fifteen verses, which were quite stiff on the whole, but completely correct and incidentally concluded with the following rhymes:

  “Shall not the star of hope blanch me,

  So, my dear angel, give me a sign!”

  “There's nothing wrong with that,” I said, returning the paper.

  “I thought so,” he replied gravely. “But I wanted to go for sure.”

  Anyone else might have asked now who the verses were for; But Burda was not afraid of that. Also, I was not very interested. But this time it was as if he wanted to be in demand. For he remained seated cross-legged, and, moving his right toe, looked at him expectantly. I finally broke the silence, starting, though still timidly, “and may one perhaps know - -?”

  He turned his head quickly and extended his hand to me: “Dear friend, in the time of our cohabitation you have not only acquired my affection but also my respect to a high degree. Therefore, I can and may inaugurate you completely in everything - all the more, as I have, frankly, a need to have a confidant this time. So listen: the verses are addressed to the youngest of the princesses L....”

  Now, however, I expected nothing less to be heard; nevertheless, I almost froze in astonishment. That Burda could raise his eyes so high exceeded all and every condition, though I could not help admiring his sublime taste. The princesses L... were among the most dazzling apparitions of the aristocratic women's world, which at that time was so strikingly rich in beauties. Orphaned by the maternal side, barely a year apart from each other in age, they all wore the most pronounced family likeness with their bold yet delicately curved noses, and when they sat in the box, usually dressed as they were, or in driving the Prater, this sight may have made many hearts beat faster. But that some son of the earth, if he did not belong to those circles, dare to approach the daughter of a sovereign prince, who occupied one of the first positions at the court, in such a manner, with such expectations, was incomprehensible. I remained speechless.

  Burda seemed to be feasting on my astonishment. “Well,” he finally said, smiling, “do you see anything so impossible in it?”

  Now it was time again not to hurt him. “Oh no - not at all - - I was just thinking. In what way do you want to send the poem to the princess?”

  “In which way? Simply through the post office.”

  “By the post office?”

  “Naturally. You know that I understand a little bit about calligraphy. So I bring the verses without signature and without betraying my hand in the most delicate paper. On the address, I imitate a ladies' letter, and to let the recipient know immediately from whom the letter comes, I siegel with fine, pale yellow paint - with the color of our serves, “Burda explained and already a little annoying, since he I still do not see any sympathetic approval in my expression.

  “That's all very well,” I interjected. “But what if the letter falls into the wrong hands?”

  Burda looked at me with compassionate superiority. “In wrong hands? Do you believe that in princely houses the letters are opened to the daughters, as may happen in middle-class circles on the part of distrustful fathers and mothers?”

  “There is no question of opening. But the letter can be delivered in the presence of other persons. And then, when a question is addressed to the recipient about him, what is she going to say?”

  Burda shifted impatiently on the chair. “Dear friend,” he said irritably, “you can see straightaway that you have no idea what is custom and custom in the aristocracy. In such families everyone has their own apartments, their own servants - and one receives his letters for himself alone. However, in a sense you are right, “he continued after a pause; “I myself do not ignore the concerns of my company. But you will admit that on my part something must be ventured; because the princess can not take the first step. For the rest, I have probably considered everything carefully and carefully. The matter is simply this: Either one expects - and I have reasons to presuppose this in the most definite way - from me a rally, then you realize that it with the letter has no danger. For even supposing that he were the subject of any question, one certainly possesses the requisite feminine ingenuity to extricate himself from the affair. Or: I was completely wrong until now - well, then you just throw the verses aside - and everything is over.”

  This quiet conflict worked. For me, the whole thing was less strange. Of course I could have argued that in the step he took there was something injurious to the young lady herself; but I suppressed this remark and merely said, “I see, you have taken all the circumstances into consideration, and so I can only ask you to forgive me for allowing me-”

  “You're totally excused,” he said condescendingly, getting up. “It was your duty to alert me to possible incidents - and I thank you for that. But in order to see how groundless your objections were, I urge you to witness my success. “He stood for a moment. “Today is the twelfth - tomorrow I will send the poem - on the fourteenth it will receive the princess - and on the fifteenth you have the box in the Burgtheater, because it is an odd day. So I ask you to visit the Burgtheater together on the fifteenth with me and to stay by my side during the performance. You will see the rest. “With that he shook my hand and went to his room, guided by me into the corridor.

  When I was alone again, it whirled in my head. Should it be possible! I exclaimed. Should the princess really.... Why not? There were already similar cases! Burda's confidence was contagious; she also seemed to want to communicate to me now. But no, no! It is completely unthinkable! finally spoke the healthy Reason and kept the last word. I forgot, of course, that I had earlier set out to describe in the second song of my poetry with glowing colors a secret rendezvous which was to take place between a princess and a squire (who, however, would have turned out to be the king's son at the end).

  III.

  The day, or rather the evening on which Burda expected a sign from the “exalted angel", was there. So we went - and quite early - into the still dimly lit rooms of the Burgtheater, to secure a good, perfect overview. Incidentally, this caution proved unnecessary. For Minna von Barnhelm, which piece was in the name of most of us, was boring, and though his second title should have been very appealing to the military, this time the ground floor remained, where otherwise uniforms were swarming It was all the more sparsely visited when the “Prophet” was performed in the Kärntnertor Theater, which opera at that time still had a very strong influence with Other than Johann von Leyden. Burda, however, w
anted to see the Minna of Barnhelm as a particularly auspicious sign; in fact, he even complained that the piece might have been set at the express wish of the princess. I found this assumption quite daring, which he admitted; but he maintained that it was, at any rate, a curious coincidence of circumstances.

  In the meantime the light-emitting chandelier had lowered itself from above; the house became animated, the low folding of the lock seats became audible and mingled with a few lamentations of the instruments that one began to tune in the orchestra. At last the overture had died away in its usual mischief-and the performance began.

  Now you could clearly see how sparse the theater was ever visited. The rows of boxes and rows of seats showed gaping gaps, a proof that the elegant world did not particularly appreciate classical comedy. Only the galleries appeared heavily occupied. The lordly lodge Loge also showed himself to Burda's obvious consternation. Already the first scene between Just and the landlord - which Laroche and Beckmann portrayed most deliciously - had taken place; Major Tellheim had already begun his nobility, Ludwig the lion, as Werner, to unfold the indestructible charm of his nature, the curtain fell-and still the box yawned like a dark abyss into which the hopes of Burda threatened to sink. Because - as the orchestra was just picking up a lamenting interlude, In the not too spacious quadrilateral, one could notice a slight glimmering and laboring; Chairs were moved - and the three sisters sat down, while Burda trembled with excitement, to the parapet.

  The second act began. Luise Neumann, as Franziska, struck her mischievous and heartfelt lute, the action became entangled-and now the play took on an ever livelier progress until, at the end of the third act, it roused itself to stormy applause. I looked at Burda. He had stood motionless against his pillar the whole time. A quiet, sweet transfiguration was spread over his face, and his eyes shone with a moist glow. As far as the young ladies in the box were concerned, I could not at all notice that Burda paid any attention. At first the princesses had looked somewhat absent-minded towards the stage; but soon their attention had been shackled, and now, after the curtain had lowered, they spoke softly to one another. At the same time they looked around the house, and their eyes swept over the ground floor; but whether the youngest Burda had a special eye could not be determined.

  He now left his position and waved his eyes at me, to follow him into the small, low side corridor, which was used as an extension of the parterre and, although one could hardly see the stage from there, was usually also crowded. But today he was empty and lonely, and Burda sat down on the narrow, hard-padded bench that ran against the wall. After sitting down next to him, he whispered to me, “Well, have you noticed?”

  “Noticed? What?”

  “That she is dressed all in yellow.”

  “I did not notice.”

  “Because you did not pay attention. Step out and make sure that she wears our - that is, my color.”

  When I returned to my former place, the fourth act had already begun. I looked at the box - and indeed, it was as Burda had said. The dress, cut low in the shoulders, was a dull yellow; In the dark hair were yellow roses - and above all, a large fan of bright golden yellow shone into my eyes, which the princess carelessly moved up and down. I did not understand how I had overlooked all this, since it was all the more remarkable when the two older sisters were dressed differently today, dressed in delicate blue. It really looked like intention.

  The piece approached the end. Burda had meanwhile reappeared by my side, and when the curtain fell, he whispered to me: “Come on, let's see her get in the car.”

  We hurried into the cloakroom, took our coats, and got in the driveway. The house emptied itself quickly this time, so it was not long before the princesses appeared wrapped in white, swan-robed theatrical coats. Her father in the background towards the end of the performance the box became visible, followed at their feet, while two cars drove up. One separated in pairs; the prince with the youngest daughter got into the first car, the other two into the second - and the pretty fellows rolled away. We watched them for a while, and I thought I noticed that when they reached Michaelerplatz, they parted and each took a different direction.

  Now we left, and Burda, without saying a word, made his way home, not through the city as usual, but over the deserted glacis in front of the castle gate. It was in December. The day had started frosty, but now it had become milder. Fine white mist lay over the city like a dimly-lit veil; It began to snow in soft, dense flakes.

  As Burda remained silent, we walked silently side by side for a while. But I felt that he expected me to open the conversation, and finally began, “Well, did you get another rally?”

  He glanced at me from the side. “Another rally?” He replied sharply. “Is not this one enough for her to wear my color, as already mentioned? Could she perhaps signal me again - or fall into the arms in front of the theater?”

  I saw how much I had irritated him with my question. “By no means,” I replied, “I meant only - - and if you are really convinced that the choice of color was deliberate -”

  “Convinced?” He exclaimed, more upset. “As if there could be a doubt!” And, with a moderate temper, he continued: “I forget, dear friend, that you have the right to warn me of possible self-delusions. But how am I supposed to teach you my beliefs? It always remains a matter of feeling.”

  “Certainly,” I affirmed, in order to prevent an unpredicable quarrel. “And your feeling will be the right one at any rate - even if I do not foresee, what should develop from the all.”

  He stopped and looked at me seriously at the light of a nearby gas flame. “Develop! Develop! “He repeated contemptuously. “I'm just surprised that you can ask that question. You are a poet - or at least want to be - and so you should also understand that there are circumstances that allow no further development, because they are in themselves the pinnacle of all happiness. Or is it not the highest fortune to know that one deals with the thoughts, the imagination of such a being? That the first sensations were awakened in such a heart? What can, what can I expect more?”

  I confess that I felt ashamed. The delicate, spiritualized of his conception impressed me; it was as if I had to ask him a wrong. “Dear friend,” I said with sincere warmth, “I ask you to believe, above all, that I can well put myself in the state of your soul. But I also confess to you frankly that, in spite of your ideal sense, which I have always admired, I have considered you a man who can not be satisfied with such a fabulous happiness in the long run.”

  He looked at me strangely. “Maybe you're right,” he replied after a pause, moving again. “And so you see how far my trust goes to you, I also want to initiate you into another matter. It is not much more than an aerial structure; but over time it can take on firmer outlines - and then open up prospects of possibilities that are quite unthinkable at present. If you want to drink a cup of tea with me, I'll tell you everything about it.”

  We proceeded more swiftly, and so we were soon at home, where the servant Burdaas ceremoniously took off our coats. Then he served the tea on a blank, scrubbed sheet of silver-like tin, to which, as at the probable celebration of the successful evening, some cold food was added. At a hint from his master, he put a few more coals into the oven and disappeared.

  After we had taken the tea and lit cigars, Burda put the lamp on a console next to the ottoman and with a wave of his hand invited me to sit down there. Then he unlocked a locked drawer of his desk and pulled out a pack of yellowed and brittle papers, which he now laid down between us both.

  “You may still remember,” he began after a brief silence, “that annoying appearance at the regimental report while we were still in Brno?”

  Now I remember it very well, but I did not want to notice it immediately. “Oh, yes,” I said after a while, “you mean the story because of the signatures?”

  “Indeed. And I can confess to you now that the colonel was not entirely wrong with me - for I had indeed a double meaning with that G f. “He placed his right hand on th
e papers and continued:” I have reason to assume that I come from an old noble family. And indeed from a Count's family, which had its seat in Bohemia, after the Battle of White Mountain, however, in which it had fought on the side of the so-called Winter King, horrified by Ferdinand the Second of his estates and forced to leave the country. According to certain traditions, there were two brothers who hit this lot. One of them, it is believed, turned to Saxony, where even today a noble family of my name is flourishing. The second remained missing. Toward the end of the seventeenth century, however, a direct descendant of him - albeit a mere commoner - is said to have immigrated back to Austria, who is also really Burdawrote. My grandfather had already been made aware of this man by the alleged descent of our family, and encouraged to investigate. This happened, and the documents here are the result of those efforts. They also make the connection in question pretty clear - but about the main point: whether the mentioned immigrant was really a descendant of the missing Count Burda, unfortunately nothing definite could be determined. My grandfather, therefore, let the matter, which was associated with not inconsiderable cost, be all the more self-reliant, since in the best case the title of count, but by no means the recovery of the confiscated goods could be obtained, which into the possession of others, to that Time of faithful noble families had passed. My father was certainly not the man to resume such a business, and I must consider it a true miracle that these papers were still found in his estate. I myself put no weight on it for a very long time; I have come to know their meaning only gradually, and now that they have become invaluable under the circumstances known to you, my decision has reached maturity. Already tomorrow I will send the whole thing to a young historiographer, whom I met in Brno, and who is currently in use at the local archives. Even then I had given him some hints, as a result of which he declared himself ready to help me with the help of his learned connections. Above all, he said, it would be necessary to work with the to take up such a matter again, and I must consider it a true miracle that these papers were still found in his papers. I myself put no weight on it for a very long time; I have come to know their meaning only gradually, and now that they have become invaluable under the circumstances known to you, my decision has reached maturity. Already tomorrow I will send the whole thing to a young historiographer, whom I met in Brno, and who is currently in use at the local archives. Even then I had given him some hints, as a result of which he declared himself ready to help me with the help of his learned connections. Above all, he said, it would be necessary to work with the to take up such a matter again, and I must consider it a true miracle that these papers were still found in his papers. I myself put no weight on it for a very long time; I have come to know their meaning only gradually, and now that they have become invaluable under the circumstances known to you, my decision has reached maturity. Already tomorrow I will send the whole thing to a young historiographer, whom I met in Brno, and who is currently in use at the local archives. Even then I had given him some hints, as a result of which he declared himself ready to help me with the help of his learned connections. Above all, he said, it would be necessary to work with the and I must consider it a true miracle that these papers were still found in his estate. I myself put no weight on it for a very long time; I have come to know their meaning only gradually, and now that they have become invaluable under the circumstances known to you, my decision has reached maturity. Already tomorrow I will send the whole thing to a young historiographer, whom I met in Brno, and who is currently in use at the local archives. Even then I had given him some hints, as a result of which he declared himself ready to help me with the help of his learned connections. Above all, he said, it would be necessary to work with the and I must consider it a true miracle that these papers were still found in his estate. I myself put no weight on it for a very long time; I have come to know their meaning only gradually, and now that they have become invaluable under the circumstances known to you, my decision has reached maturity. Already tomorrow I will send the whole thing to a young historiographer, whom I met in Brno, and who is currently in use at the local archives. Even then I had given him some hints, as a result of which he declared himself ready to help me with the help of his learned connections. Above all, he said, it would be necessary to work with the I myself put no weight on it for a very long time; I have come to know their meaning only gradually, and now that they have become invaluable under the circumstances known to you, my decision has reached maturity. Already tomorrow I will send the whole thing to a young historiographer, whom I met in Brno, and who is currently in use at the local archives. Even then I had given him some hints, as a result of which he declared himself ready to help me with the help of his learned connections. Above all, he said, it would be necessary to work with the I myself put no weight on it for a very long time; I have come to know their meaning only gradually, and now that they have become invaluable under the circumstances known to you, my decision has reached maturity. Already tomorrow I will send the whole thing to a young historiographer, whom I met in Brno, and who is currently in use at the local archives. Even then I had given him some hints, as a result of which he declared himself ready to help me with the help of his learned connections. Above all, he said, it would be necessary to work with the Already tomorrow I will send the whole thing to a young historiographer, whom I met in Brno, and who is currently in use at the local archives. Even then I had given him some hints, as a result of which he declared himself ready to help me with the help of his learned connections. Above all, he said, it would be necessary to work with the Already tomorrow I will send the whole thing to a young historiographer, whom I met in Brno, and who is currently in use at the local archives. Even then I had given him some hints, as a result of which he declared himself ready to help me with the help of his learned connections. Above all, he said, it would be necessary to work with theto get in touch with Burda in Saxony and to reach an agreement. Then maybe it could be our communal one Efforts succeed, by a mercy act of the respective sovereigns for both lines, the title of Count, which would of course be perfectly sufficient for me to achieve.”