Barbara Blomberg — Complete by Georg Ebers (self help books to read TXT) 📖

“You learned that from Dr. Mathys,” interrupted the royal lady, “and the quacks repeat it from their masters Hippocrates and Galen. Such parrot gabble does not please me. To my woman’s reason, it seems rather that when the mind is ill we should try a remedy whose effect upon it has already been proved, and I think I have found it.”

“I am still ignorant of it,” replied Quijada eagerly; “but I would swear by my saint that you have hit upon the right expedient.”

“Listen, then, and this time I believe you will have no cause to repent your hasty oath. Since death robbed our sovereign lord of his wife, and the gout has prevented his enjoyment of the chief pleasures of life—hunting, the tournament, and the other pastimes which people of our rank usually pursue—in what can he find diversion? The masterpieces of painters and other artists, the inventions of mechanicians and clock-makers, and the works of scholars have no place here, but probably——”

“Then it is the noble art of music which your Majesty has in view,” Quijada eagerly interrupted. “Admirable! For, since the days of King Saul and the harper David——”

“There is certainly no better remedy for melancholy,” said the Queen, completing the exclamation of the loyal man. “But it could affect no one more favourably than the Emperor. You yourself know how keen a connoisseur he is, and how often this has been confirmed by our greatest masters. Need I remind you of the high mass in Cologne, at which the magnificent singing seemed fairly to reanimate him after the defection of the heretical archbishop—which threatens to have a disastrous influence upon my Netherlanders also—had robbed him of the last remnant of his enjoyment of life, already clouded? The indignation aroused by the German princes, and the difficult decision to which their conduct is forcing him, act upon his soul like poison. But hesitation is not in my nature, so I thought: Let us have music—good, genuine music. Then I sent a mounted messenger to order Gombert, the conductor of his orchestra, and the director of my choir of boys, to bring their musicians to Ratisbon. The whole company will arrive this evening. Dash forward is my motto, and not only while in the saddle during the chase. But, Luis, you must now tell me—”

“That your Majesty’s sisterly affection has discovered the only right course,” cried Quijada, deeply touched, pressing his lips respectfully to the flowing sleeve of her robe.

The major—domo’s assurance undoubtedly sprang from the depths of his heart, yet the doubts which the hasty action of the vivacious sovereign aroused in his mind compelled him to represent to her, though with the courteous caution which his position demanded, that her bold measure might only too easily arouse the displeasure of the person whom it was intended to benefit. The expense it would entail especially troubled Quijada, and the Queen herself appeared surprised when he estimated the sum which would be required for the transportation of the band and the boy choir from Brussels to Ratisbon and back again.

Forty musicians, twelve boy singers, the leaders, and the paymaster must be moved, and in their train were numerous grooms and attendants, as well as conveyances for the baggage and the valuable instruments.

Besides, the question of accommodation for this large number in the already crowded city now arose, for the Queen confessed that, in order to make the surprise complete, no one had been commissioned to find lodgings.

The musicians, who had displayed the most praiseworthy promptness, would arrive three days earlier than she had expected.

The royal lady readily admitted that the utmost haste was necessary. Yet she knew that, if any one could accomplish the impossible, it was Quijada, where the object in view was to serve her and the Emperor.

The influence of this eulogy was doubled by a tender glance from her bright eyes, and the Spaniard promised to do everything in his power to secure the success of her beautiful surprise. There would undoubtedly be difficulties with his Majesty and the treasurer on the score of the expense, for their finances were at the very lowest ebb.

“There is always the same annoyance where money is concerned,” cried the Queen irritably, “in spite of the vast sums which my Netherlands pour into the treasury—four times as much as Spain supplies, including the gold and silver of the New World. You keep it secret, but two fifths of the revenue from all the countries over which Charles reigns are contributed by my provinces. Torrents of ducats inundate your treasury, and yet—yet—it’s enough to drive one mad!—in spite of this and the lamentable parsimony with which the Emperor deprives himself of both great and small pleasures—it is simply absurd!—the story is always: The finances are at the lowest ebb—save and save again. To protect the plumes in his new cap from being injured by the rain, the sovereign of half the world ordered an old hat to be brought, and waited in the shower until the shabby felt came. And where are the millions which this excellent economist saves from his personal expenses? The dragon War devours them all. True, he has vanquished foes enough, but the demon of melancholy, that makes even Dr. Mathys anxious, is far worse than the infidels before whom you were compelled to retreat in Algiers—far more terrible than the Turks and heretics combined. Yet what are you and the wise treasurer doing? The idea of lessening the salaries of the physician-in-ordinary and his colleagues has never entered the heads of the estimable gentlemen who call themselves his Majesty’s faithful servants. Very well! Then put the musicians’ travelling expenses upon the apothecary’s bill. They have as much right to be there as the senna leaves. But, if the penny pinchers in the council of finance refuse to advance the necessary funds, why—charge this medicine to my account. I’ll pay for it, in spite of the numerous leeches that suck my substance.”

“It certainly will not come to that, your Majesty,” replied Quijada soothingly. “Our sovereign lord knows, too, that it beseems him to be less rigid in saving. Only yesterday he dipped into his purse deeply enough for another remedy.”

“What was that?” asked the Queen in surprise.

“He paid the debts of my colleague Malfalconnet, not less than ten thousand ducats.”

“There it is!” exclaimed the regent, striking her hands sharply together. “The baron dispels the Emperor’s melancholy by his ready wit, which often hits the nail on the head, and his nimble tongue, but my medicine must provide the fitting mood for Malfalconnet’s dearly bought jests and witticisms to exert the proper influence.”

“And, moreover,” Quijada added gaily, “your Majesty will present the completed deed for the treasurer’s action. But now I most humbly entreat you to dismiss me. I must inform the quartermasters at once, and look after the matter myself if your Majesty’s costly magic pills are not to be spoiled by this wet April weather. Besides, many of the musicians are not the strongest of men.”

Bowing as he spoke, he prepared to take leave of the Queen, but she detained him with the remark:

“Our invitation went to Sir Wolf Hartschwert also. He is a native of Ratisbon, and can aid you and the quartermasters in assigning lodgings.”

“A fresh proof of the wise caution of my august mistress,” replied Quijada. “If your Majesty will permit, I should like to talk with my royal patroness