Delphi Collected Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe \(Illustrated\) pdfdrive com

CHAPTER X.

Philina  now  succeeded  in  insinuating  farther  every  day  into  the  favor  of  the

ladies.  Whenever  they  were  by  themselves,  she  was  wont  to  lead  the

conversation on the men whom they saw about the castle; and our friend was not

the  last  or  least  important  that  engaged  them.  The  cunning  girl  was  well  aware

that he had made a deep impression on the countess: she therefore talked about

him often, telling much that she knew or did not know, only taking care to speak

of nothing that might be interpreted against him; eulogizing, on the contrary, his

nobleness of mind, his generosity, and, more than all, his modest and respectful

conduct to the fair sex.  To all inquiries made about  him she replied with  equal

prudence;  and  the  baroness,  when  she  observed  the  growing  inclination  of  her

amiable friend, was likewise very glad at the discovery. Her own intrigues with

several  men,  especially  of  late  with  Jarno,  had  not  remained  hidden  from  the

countess,  whose  pure  soul  could  not  look  upon  such  levities  without

disapprobation, and meek, though earnest, censures.

In  this  way  both  Philina  and  the  baroness  were  personally  interested  in

establishing  a  closer  intercourse  between  the  countess  and  our  friend.  Philina

hoped, moreover, that there would occur some opportunity when she might once

more labor for herself, and, if possible, get back the favor of the young man she

had lost.

One day his lordship, with his guests, had ridden out to hunt; and their return

was  not  expected  till  the  morrow.  On  this  the  baroness  devised  a  frolic,  which

was altogether in her way, for she loved disguises, and, in order to surprise her

friends,  would  suddenly  appear  among  them  as  a  peasant-girl  at  one  time,  at

another as a page, at another as a hunter’s boy. By which means she almost gave

herself the air of a little fairy, that is present everywhere, and exactly in the place

where it is least expected. Nothing could exceed this lady’s joy, if, without being

recognized,  she  could  contrive  to  wait  upon  the  company  for  some  time  as  a

servant,  or  mix  among  them  anyhow,  and  then  at  last  in  some  sportful  way

disclose herself.

Towards night she sent for Wilhelm to her chamber, and, happening to have

something else to do just then, left Philina to receive and prepare him.

He  arrived,  and  found  to  his  surprise,  not  the  honorable  lady,  but  the  giddy

girl, in the room. She received him with a certain dignified openness of manner,

which  she  had  of  late  been  practising,  and  so  constrained  him  likewise  to  be

courteous.

---

At  first  she  rallied  him  in  general  on  the  good  fortune  which  pursued  him

everywhere,  and  which,  as  she  could  not  but  see,  had  led  him  hither  in  the

present case. Then she delicately set before him the treatment with which of late

he  had  afflicted  her;  she  blamed  and  upbraided  herself;  confessed  that  she  had

but too well deserved such punishment; described with the greatest candor what

she  called  her  former  situation;  adding,  that  she  would  despise  herself,  if  she

were not capable of altering, and making herself worthy of his friendship.

Wilhelm  was  struck  with  this  oration.  He  had  too  little  knowledge  of  the

world  to  understand  that  persons  quite  unstable,  and  incapable  of  all

improvement,  frequently  accuse  themselves  in  the  bitterest  manner,  confessing

and deploring their faults with extreme ingenuousness, though they possess not

the  smallest  power  within  them  to  retire  from  that  course,  along  which  the

irresistible  tendency  of  their  nature  is  dragging  them  forward.  Accordingly,  he

could not find in his heart to behave inexorably to the graceful sinner: he entered

into  conversation,  and  learned  from  her  the  project  of  a  singular  disguisement,

wherewith it was intended to surprise the countess.

He  found  some  room  for  hesitation  here,  nor  did  he  hide  his  scruples  from

Philina:  but  the  baroness,  entering  at  this  moment,  left  him  not  an  instant  for

reflection; she hurried him away with her, declaring it was just the proper hour.

It  was  now  grown  dark.  She  took  him  to  the  count’s  wardrobe,  made  him

change  his  own  coat  with  his  lordship’s  silk  night-gown,  and  put  the  cap  with

red trimmings on his head. She then led him forward to the cabinet; and bidding

him  sit  down  upon  the  large  chair,  and  take  a  book,  she  lit  the  Argand  lamp

which stood before him, and showed him what he was to do, and what kind of

part he had to play.

They  would  inform  the  countess,  she  said,  of  her  husband’s  unexpected

arrival, and that he was in very bad humor. The countess would come in, walk

up  and  down  the  room  once  or  twice,  then  place  herself  beside  the  back  of  his

chair, lay her arm upon his shoulder, and speak a few words. He was to play the

cross  husband  as  long  and  as  well  as  possible;  and,  when  obliged  to  disclose

himself, he must behave politely, handsomely, and gallantly.

Wilhelm  was  left  sitting,  restlessly  enough,  in  this  singular  mask.  The

proposal had come upon him by surprise: the execution of it got the start of the

deliberation.  The  baroness  had  vanished  from  the  room,  before  he  saw  how

dangerous the post was which he had engaged to fill. He could not deny that the

beauty,  the  youth,  the  gracefulness,  of  the  countess  had  made  some  impression

on  him:  but  his  nature  was  entirely  averse  to  all  empty  gallantry,  and  his

principles forbade any thought of more serious enterprises; so that his perplexity

at  this  moment  was  in  truth  extreme.  The  fear  of  displeasing  the  countess,  and

---

that of pleasing her too well, were equally busy in his mind.

Every  female  charm  that  had  ever  acted  on  him,  now  showed  itself  again  to

his  imagination.  Mariana  rose  before  him  in  her  white  morning-gown,  and

entreated  his  remembrance.  Philina’s  loveliness,  her  beautiful  hair,  her

insinuating blandishments, had again become attractive by her late presence. Yet

all  this  retired  as  if  behind  the  veil  of  distance,  when  he  figured  to  himself  the

noble, blooming countess, whose arm in a few minutes he would feel upon his

neck, whose innocent caresses he was there to answer.

The  strange  mode  in  which  he  was  to  be  delivered  out  of  this  perplexity  he

certainly  did  not  anticipate.  We  may  judge  of  his  astonishment,  nay,  his  terror,

when the door opened behind him; and, at the first stolen look in the mirror, he

quite  clearly  discerned  the  count  coming  in  with  a  light  in  his  hand.  His  doubt

what he should do, whether he should sit still or rise, should flee, confess, deny,

or  beg  forgiveness,  lasted  but  a  few  instants.  The  count,  who  had  remained

motionless standing in the door, retired, and shut it softly. At the same moment,

the  baroness  sprang  forward  by  the  side-door,  extinguished  the  lamp,  tore

Wilhelm  from  his  chair,  and  hurried  him  with  her  into  the  closet.  Instantly  he

threw  off  the  night-gown,  and  put  it  in  its  former  place.  The  baroness  took  his

coat under her arm, and hastened with him through several rooms, passages, and

partitions  into  her  chamber,  where  Wilhelm,  so  soon  as  she  recovered  breath,

was  informed,  that  on  her  going  to  the  countess,  and  delivering  the  fictitious

intelligence about her husband’s arrival, the countess had answered, “I know it

already:  what  can  have  happened?  I  saw  him  riding  in,  at  the  postern,  even

now.”  On  which  the  baroness,  in  an  excessive  panic,  had  run  to  the  count’s

chamber to give warning.

“Unhappily  you  came  too  late!”  said  Wilhelm.  “The  count  was  in  the  room

before you, and saw me sitting.”

“And recognized you?”

“That I know not. He was looking at me in the glass, as I at him; and, before I

could well determine whether it was he or a spirit, he drew back, and closed the

door behind him.”

The  anxiety  of  the  baroness  increased,  when  a  servant  came  to  call  her,

signifying  that  the  count  was  with  his  lady.  She  went  with  no  light  heart,  and

found the count silent and thoughtful, indeed, but milder and kinder in his words

than usual. She knew not what to think of it. They spoke about the incidents of

the chase, and the causes of his quick return. The conversation soon ran out. The

count became taciturn; and it struck the baroness particularly, when he asked for

Wilhelm,  and  expressed  a  wish  that  he  were  sent  for,  to  come  and  read

something.

---

Wilhelm,  who  had  now  dressed  himself  in  the  baroness’s  chamber,  and  in

some  degree  recovered  his  composure,  obeyed  the  order,  not  without  anxiety.

The count gave him a book, out of which he read an adventurous tale, very little

at  his  ease.  His  voice  had  a  certain  inconstancy  and  quivering  in  it,  which

fortunately corresponded with the import of the story. The count more than once

gave kindly tokens of approval, and at last dismissed our friend, with praises of

his exquisite manner of reading.

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