"It is a very slow poison. For the last fifty years I've been killing myself with it, and yet here I am," cried the Starosta.
"Yes; but it is the cause of the gout in your knees, the colic in your stomach, the spasms in your side. You may also thank it for your sleepless nights and the humming in your ears, as well as for heartburn, erysipelas, and St. Vitus's dance. I, your house-doctor, certify that you partook of this poisonous dish at your own table, and indigestion and apoplexy are only a prayer apart."
But Casimir spoilt everything by his intervention. From the other end of the table he bawled to his comrade--
"Come, come, old chap! Surely you don't want to play the part of Doctor Pedro Recio de Tiertafuera at the banquet given by Sancho Panza, in his official capacity of Governor! All these gentlemen have read 'Don Quixote,' you know."
And with these words he regularly flung his comrade out of his doctorial chair. The whole company laughed heartily at him, and even the Rev.
Pastor himself apostrophized his son with the facetious citation:--
"_Descende Philippe, non sunt hic ollae!_"
"Then why have I been put here?" inquired Heinrich, in great wrath, of the Major Domo.
"Why? Why, to taste of every dish, to see that there is no deadly poison in it which might make a man suddenly ill."
"Then the dog Caro here could perform my office equally well."
And henceforth Heinrich flung the cut-off portion of every dish presented to him to taste into the jaws of the mastiff, who snapped them up in an instant, and was highly delighted with his new duties.
Thus the doctor himself absolutely starved during the sumptuous banquet, for not a single dish was ever brought back to him, the remains being sent into a side room, where, at a table without a table-cloth, sat the lower order of guests, such as the begging friars, the clerks who acted as secretaries, and the court poets. The latter usually went by the name of "court fools" when they had more than common genius, but not every poet merited this higher title, for there were bores among them too, and these remained poets, and nothing but poets.
The favourite amongst them all was the house-fool, Lupko, who had also been invited into the gentlemen's dining-hall, and was there practising every sort of tomfoolery, letting off literary squibs, imitating feline and canine concerts, and the squeaking of stuck pigs, turning his hat into twenty different shapes, tootling in a bottle, and drumming in the hollow of his hand, and drinking glasses of wine at the same time that he was imitating the scream of a peacock.
Naturally, in these things Heinrich could by no means compete with him.
All the guests treated Lupko with wine; but none of them said to the doctor, "What will you drink? Fetch wine for the doctor."
Casimir also joked familiarly with the jester--nay, he almost openly urged him to go along and try conclusions with the doctor.
Students love to heckle each other, especially if one of them has had a full skin at table.
So the fool skipped away to the doctor.
"_Servus humillimus collega!_ For colleagues we really are. Yes, _doctores ambo_! The only difference is that on your head is a college cap, and on mine a cap with pointed hare's-ears. _Evoe Bacche!_"
And with that he clapped Heinrich on the shoulder.
At this Heinrich was very angry, but still angrier was the mastiff to see his master hit on the shoulder by a hunch-backed rascal, so he rushed at him incontinently, placed his paws on his neck, and snatched from his head the fur cap adorned with the two projecting hare's-ears.
The fool tried to recover his cap, but the dog would not give it up, so a great debate began between the dog and the fool. The doctor's little table was overthrown in the midst of the scrimmage, and finally the cap was torn in two, half of it remaining in the hands of the fool, and the other half in the jaws of the mastiff.
"Silence, you God-forsaken rascals!" cried the Starosta; "don't you hear that his reverence is trying to say grace?" And with that he seized the Spanish cane which was standing beside his chair, and belaboured with it the dog's back and the jester's body at the same time, and so restored peace between them.
And now the reverend gentleman stood up in his place, and, raising his beaker unctuously aloft, pronounced a Latin grace full of graceful turns of expression, invoking blessings on the heads of the Starosta, his son, and their remotest posterity. The blessing was followed by a great clinking of glasses, and every guest drained his goblet to the very dregs.
When the din of the vivats and the blast of the trumpets had subsided, the Starosta spoke from his place at the head of the table.
"Deo Gratias, my thanks for all these pretty wishes. And look now, to show in what great respect my reverend neighbour here is held in heaven above, I may mention that his kind wish that my family might flourish in the days to come had scarce died away when an answer to his petition that instant arrived. For I have just received, from the glorious city of Vienna, a letter from my dear friend, Prince Maximilian Sonnenburg, in which he informs me that the dearest wish of his Excellency, and of his Excellency's consort, the Princess Ludmilla Rattenburg of Tannenfels and Bunteviez, corresponds with mine, to wit, that their only daughter, the Princess Ingola Sonnenburg and Rattenburg should be betrothed to my son Casimir."
This famous piece of news was instantly greeted with a vivat which made the very rafters ring. Every guest hastened to congratulate Casimir.
But he, from the other end of the table, bawled to his father--
"But is the lady beautiful?"
"I have her portrait here. They sent it with the letter."
And he drew from his side-pocket a little miniature in a jewelled frame.
Naturally every one wished to look at it.
But the Starosta would not let it go out of his hand.
"Ho, ho! Softly, softly! It is only the bridegroom who has the right to look at it."
Then he turned round, knowing that Heinrich was behind him. "Look ye, my son," said he to the doctor, "take this portrait to Casimir, but show it only to him and to none other. You may look at it, too, because you are a doctor. Do you understand physiognomies? Can you say, from looking at this portrait, whether the little Princess is phlegmatic, or choleric, or, which God forbid, of a melancholy temperament?"
Well, this was a great distinction for Heinrich. He took the portrait to Casimir, and showed the portrait to him first of all.
The bride in the portrait was of mythological loveliness. She was painted as Sappho, in a Greek chlamys, with her golden tresses flowing down her shoulders, and her arms bare to the shoulder. The portrait, painted on ivory, was a masterpiece of water-colouring.
Casimir was unable to conceal his enthusiasm at the beauty of his bride.
"She is a veritable goddess!" he cried.
"Worthy indeed of adorations!" cried Heinrich, with still greater emphasis.
Nobody else was allowed to look; only they two were so privileged.
But the jester burrowed his way out from beneath the table, and thrust his head between them that he might cast a glance at the portrait.
Heinrich gave him a box on the ears, and hid the picture from him.
"Would you?" said he; "this is no spectacle for fools."
Now a fool, even in those days, drew the line at a box on the ear, and did not take it kindly; on the contrary, it was apt to make him angry.
So, instead of his torn and tattered pointed cap, he drew forth his protean hat and placed it on his head, after forming it into the exact shape of the biretta worn by the Rev. Master Klausner. Then he wound round his neck a bed-curtain, making it take the guise of the reverend gentleman's well-creased cassock. And in this guise he planted himself beside the table and raised his glass.
The guests made a clatter with their glasses by way of indicating that Lupko was about to speak. At last there was silence, and the jester was able to begin.
In his voice and delivery he managed to throw an audacious imitation of the pastor. He dismissed his words through his nose with the same unctuous solemnity, and amplified the ends of his periods just as the reverend gentleman was wont to do.
"My worthy gentlemen," he began, "I also have to disemburden myself of a joyful piece of intelligence which has just reached me through the dog-post from Siberia, from the illustrious capital of mighty Siberia, Irkutsk. I have got the letter written in Tungusian hieroglyphics on reindeer parchment, and this letter informs me that the mighty Prince of the Samoyeds, Pan Subagalleros, on behalf of himself and his consort, her Highness Pana Csoroszlya, has this day betrothed his only daughter, Panicza Kaczamajka, to my only son Heinrich."
The army of guests burst into a loud ho, ho! at this farcical parody, the trumpets blew a frightfully loud flourish, every one roared with laughter, and even the worthy pastor himself smiled gently at the fooling.
For, after all, it was but fooling. Perhaps Heinrich would have laughed at it likewise if he had been drinking all through the banquet with the rest of the merry company. But remember that he had remained hungry and thirsty throughout, and a sober man in a society that has well drunken is a danger to mirth.