The actual reason, rather, was this. I considered it only correct and in accord with your wishes not to go away without leaving cards on our diplomatic representative, Herr von Hueon, and his wife. I was at pains to discharge this formal courtesy on the day of my arrival here, but in view of the time of year I foresaw no further consequences. However, a few days later I received at my hotel an invitation to attend a bachelor party at the Embassy, an event that had obviously been arranged before my arrival. The date was very shortly before I was due to embark. Nevertheless, I was able to follow my inclination and accept without being forced to postpone my departure.
I went, dear parents, and spent a most enjoyable evening in the Embassy on the Rua Augusta, an evening that — I owe it to your love for me not to conceal this — can be put down as a personal triumph.
This, of course, must be attributed to the way you brought me up. The dinner was given in honour of the Roumanian Prince Joan Ferdinand, who is scarcely older than I and happens at the moment to be staying in Lisbon with his military preceptor, Captain Zamfiresku. It was a bachelor gathering because Frau von Hueon was at a watering-place on the Portuguese Riviera, whereas her husband had had to interrupt his vacation and return to the capital for business reasons. The number of guests was small, amounting to hardly more than ten, but the occasion was distinguished by great formality from the very first moment, when we were received by servants in knee-breeches and lace-trimmed coats. In honour of the Prince, dinner clothes and decorations had been stipulated, and I took pleasure in seeing the ribbons and crosses and stars worn by these gentlemen, almost all of whom had the advantage of me in years and embonpoint — not, I admit, without a trace of envy at the enchantment of their costumes through these precious baubles. But I can assure you, without flattering you or myself, that from the moment I entered the salon in my unadorned evening dress I won the unanimous favour of the master of the house and his guests not alone because of my name but because of the easy courtesy and social grace that went with it.
At supper, which was served in the panelled dining-room, I felt, to be sure, a trifle bored in that circle of foreign and local diplomats, officers, and big industrialists, among whom an Austrio-Hungarian councillor from the Madrid Embassy, one Count Festetics, stood out picturesquely because of his fur-trimmed Hungarian costume, top boots, and curved sabre. I myself was placed between the rude-mannered captain of a Belgian frigate and a Portuguese wine-exporter, who looked like a roué, and whose imperious behaviour suggested great wealth. For quite a time the conversation turned on political and economic matters I knew nothing about, and so my contribution was necessarily limited to a lively play of expression indicating warm interest. Presently, however, the Prince, who was sitting opposite me — a weary whey-face, by the way, afflicted with both a lisp and a stutter-drew me into conversation about Paris. Who doesn't like to talk about Paris? Soon all had joined in and I, encouraged by the gracious smiles and stuttering lisp of His Highness, allowed myself to take the lead. Well, after dinner, when people were making themselves comfortable in the smoking-room and sampling the liqueurs and coffee, the place beside the distinguished guest fell to me as though automatically; the master of the house sat on his other side. You are undoubtedly familiar with Herr von Hueon's unexceptionable but colourless exterior, his thin hair, watery blue eyes, and long, wispy moustache. Joan Ferdinand hardly turned toward him at all, but allowed himself to be entertained by me. This seemed to be all right with our host. No doubt the prompt invitation I had received had been due to his wish to offer the Prince the society of someone near his own age.
I can venture to say that I amused him very much, and with the simplest of means, which chanced to be just the right ones for him. I told him about my childhood and early youth back home in the castle, about the wobbling of our good old Radicule, my imitation of whom led him to outbursts of childish delight, since it reminded him exactly of the doddering and unprofitable zeal of a valet he had inherited from his father in Bucharest; about the incredible affectations of your Adelaide, dear Mama, whose gossamer swaying and glidings I likewise imitated, floating about the room to his vast amusement; moreover, about the dogs, about Fripon and the chattering of his teeth, induced at regular intervals by the condition of our tiny Minime, and of the latter's unhappy propensity, so inappropriate for a lap dog and on so many occasions so dangerous and damaging to your robe, Mama. In masculine society it was surely permissible for me to speak of this and of the chattering of Fripon's teeth — in elegant turns of phrase, of course; in any case, I found myself justified by the tears of laughter the royal scion kept wiping from his cheeks at descriptions of Minime's delicate condition. There is something touching in seeing a creature, handicapped by both a stammer and a stutter, abandoned to such boundless merriment.
Possibly it will be painful to you, dear Mama, that I exposed to public merriment the delicate constitution of your darling; but the effect I achieved by doing so would have reconciled you to my indiscretion. Everyone became boisterous. The Prince bent double and the Grand Cross, dangling from the collar of his uniform, perforce took part. Everyone joined him in demanding to hear more about Radicule, Adelaide, and Minime, and called for repeated da capo's. The Hungarian in his fur-trimmed uniform kept hitting his thigh so hard it must have hurt, the great wine-dealer, who wore various stars as awards for his wealth, burst a button from his waistcoat, and our ambassador was greatly pleased.
The result of all this was that, at the end of the soirée when I was alone with the ambassador, he proposed that before my departure he should present me to His Majesty the King, Dom Carlos I, who chanced to be in the capital, as the flag of Braganza flying from the castle roof had already informed me. It was in a sense his duty, Herr von Hueon said, to present to His Majesty a son of Luxemburg's nobility who was passing through and who, as he put it, was in addition a young man of agreeable gifts. Moreover, the King's noble spirit — the spirit of an artist, for His Majesty liked to paint in oil, and the spirit of a savant too, for His Highness was a lover of oceanography, that is, the study of the sea and the creatures that live in it — was depressed by political cares which had begun immediately after his coronation six years before, through the conflict of Portuguese and British interests in Central Africa. At that time his conciliatory attitude had incensed public opinion against him and he had actually been grateful for the British ultimatum that made it possible for his government to give in with a formal protest. Nevertheless, there had been awkward disturbances in the larger cities, and in Lisbon a republican uprising had had to be suppressed. But now it was the sinister deficit in the Portuguese railways, which four years before had precipitated a serious financial crisis and had led to a declaration of state bankruptcy — that is, to a decree reducing government obligations by two-thirds! That had given great impetus to the republican party and had facilitated subversion by the radical elements in the country. His Majesty had not even been spared the repeated and disturbing revelation that conspiracies to assassinate him had been discovered only just in time by the police. In the round of his daily routine audiences my presentation might perhaps have a diverting and refreshing effect upon this great gentleman. If the course of the conversation possibly allowed of it, would I please introduce the subject of Minime, to which poor Prince Joan Ferdinand had reacted so heartily?
You will understand, dear parents, that with my convinced and happy royalist inclinations and my enthusiastic desire (of which perhaps you have not been fully aware) to bow before legitimate royalty, this proposal by the ambassador held a strong attraction for me. What stood in the way of my acceptance was the sad fact that it would take some days, four or five, to arrange the audience and by then the time for my embarkation on the Cap Arcona would have passed. What was I to do? My desire to stand before the King, combined with the advice of my learned mentor Kuckuck not to devote too short a time to a city like Lisbon, led to the decision to change my plans at the last minute and take a later ship. A visit to t
he travel bureau informed me that the next ship of the same line, the Amphitrite, which was to leave Lisbon in two weeks, was already heavily booked and would not, in any case, afford me suitable accommodations. The most sensible thing, the clerk said, would be to await the return of the Cap Arcona in about six or seven weeks, counting from the 15th of this month, and to re-engage my cabin for the next trip, thus postponing my voyage until the end of September or perhaps the beginning of October.
You know me, dear parents, a man of quick resolves. I agreed to the clerk's proposal, gave the necessary orders, and, I hardly need add, informed your friends, the Meyer-Novardos, of the postponement of my trip, begging them in a courteously worded cable not to expect me until October. In this way, as you see, the period of my stay in this city has been prolonged almost beyond my own wishes. No matter! My lodgings here can without exaggeration be called tolerable, and I shall not lack edifying discourse until the moment I go aboard. So may I count your acquiescence as assured?
Without that, needless to say, my essential happiness would be destroyed. But I believe you will grant it all the more readily when I inform you of the altogether happy, indeed inspiring, course of my audience with His Majesty the King, which has since taken place. Herr von Hueon informed me that it had been graciously granted and came in his carriage to fetch me from my hotel to the royal castle in good time before the specified morning hour. Thanks to his being accredited and to the fact that he was wearing court uniform, we passed the inner and outer guards without formalities and with evidences of respect. We mounted the outer staircase, which is flanked at the bottom by two caryatids in over-strained poses, and came to a suite of reception rooms decorated with busts of former kings, portraits, and crystal chandeliers, and furnished mostly in red silk with period furniture. One makes slow progress from one room to the next. In the second, one of the chamberlain's functionaries desired us to be seated for a while. Aside from the magnificence of the scene, it is not unlike the waiting-room of any popular doctor, who gets further and further behind in his appointments and whose patients have to wait long past the hour of their appointment. The rooms were crowded with all sorts of dignitaries, local and foreign, in uniform and in formal dress; they stood in groups, chatting in low voices, or sat in boredom on the sofas. There were many plumes, epaulets, and decorations. In each new room we entered, the ambassador exchanged cordial greetings with this or that diplomat of his acquaintance and introduced me, so that through this repeated emphasis upon my station in life — in which I rejoice — the period of waiting passed very rapidly, though it could not have been less than forty minutes.
Finally, an aide-de-camp, wearing a sash and holding a list of names in his hand, asked us to take our places in front of the door leading to the royal study, which was flanked by two lackeys in powdered perukes. Out came an aged gentleman in the uniform of a General of the Guards, who, no doubt, had been paying a visit of thanks for some royal favour. The adjutant entered to announce us. Then the two lackeys opened the gold-panelled leaves of the door.
Although the King is only just over thirty, his hair is already quite thin and he is rather corpulent. He received us standing by his desk, dressed in an olive-green uniform with red facings and wearing on his breast a single star in the middle of which an eagle holds in his talons a sceptre and the imperial orb. His face was flushed from many interviews. His brows are coal-black; his moustache, however, which is bushy but waxed and turned up at the ends, is beginning to turn grey. He acknowledged our deep bows with a practised and gracious wave of the hand and then greeted Herr von Hueon with a wink in which he managed to convey a great deal of flattering intimacy.
'My dear ambassador, it is a real pleasure as always. You're in the city, too? ... I know, I know. ... Ce nouveau traité de commerce. ... Mais ça s'arrangera sans aucune difficulté, grâce à votre habileté bien connue. ... And the health of the enchanting Madame de Hueon ... Is excellent. How delighted I am! How truly delighted I am! And so, then — who is this Adonis you bring to see me today?'
Dear parents, you must understand this question as a joke, a courtesy unjustified by fact. A tail-coat, to be sure, is advantageous to my figure, for which I have Papa to thank. At the same time, you know as well as I that with my cheeks like pippins and my little slit eyes, which I never see in the mirror without distaste, there is nothing mythological about me. And so I met this royal jest with an expression of merry resignation; and as though he were hastening to erase it from memory, His Majesty went on most graciously, holding my hand in his:
'My dear marquis, welcome to Lisbon! I don't need to tell you that your name is well known to me and that it gives me pleasure to greet a noble young scion from a country that maintains such cordial and friendly relations with Portugal, thanks by no means to your companion here. Tell me —' and he reflected for an instant what I should tell him '—what brings you here?'
I will not sing my own praises, precious parents, for the engaging dexterity, courtly in the best sense, both serious and easy, with which I entered into conversation with the monarch. I will simply say for your reassurance and satisfaction, that I was not awkward and did not fall on my face. I informed His Majesty of the gift, which I owe to your magnanimity, of a year's educational travel around the world, a trip that had uprooted me from Paris, my place of residence, and brought me on its first stage, to this incomparable city.
'Ah, so Lisbon pleases you then?'
'Sire, énormément. Je suis tout à fait transporté par la beauté de votre capitale, qui est vraiment digne d'être la résidence d'un grand souverain comme Votre Majesté. I had the intention of spending only a few days here, but I realized the absurdity of this arrangement and completely changed my plans in order to devote at least a few weeks to a visit that one would like never to have to terminate. What a city, Sire! What avenues, what parks, what promenades and views! Because of personal connexions I became acquainted first of all with Professor Kuckuck's Museum of Natural History — a magnificent institution, Your Majesty, not least interesting to me because of its oceanographic aspect, because so many of its exhibits instructively demonstrate that all forms of life emerged from the waters of the sea. But, then, the marvel of the botanical gardens, Sire, the Avenida-Park, the Campo Grande, the Passeio da Estrella with its incomparable view over city and river. ... Is it any wonder that, confronted by all these ideal vistas of a land blessed by Heaven and admirably cultivated by man's hand, tears should come to an eye which is a little — my God, how little! — an artist's eye? In short, I admit that I — very differently from Your Majesty, whose genius in this field is well known — have interested myself a little in Paris in the graphic arts, in drawing and painting, as an eager but, alas, ungifted pupil of Professor Estompard of the Académie des Beaux Arts. But this is hardly worth mentioning. What must be said is this: in Your Majesty one venerates the ruler of one of the most beautiful lands on earth, probably the most beautiful of all. Where else in the world is there a panorama to compare with the view over Estremadura offered the observer from the lofty royal palaces at Sintra, vaunting its wheat fields, vineyards, and orchards? ...'
Let me remark parenthetically, dear parents, that I had not yet visited the castles of Sintra or the Monastery of Belem, whose delicacy of construction I went on to discuss. I have been prevented from paying those visits as yet because I devote a good deal of my time to tennis at a club for socially eligible young people, to which the Kuckucks introduced me. No matter! To the King I spoke in praise of impressions I had not yet received, and His Majesty was moved to remark that he appreciated my powers of observation.
This encouraged me to launch with all the fluency I possess, or with the fluency that this extraordinary situation inspired in me, on a speech in praise of the country and people of Portugal. One did not visit a nation, I said, on account of the country alone, but rather — and perhaps first of all — on account of the people, out of a love for the new, if I might so express myself, a love for human types neve
r met before, a desire to look into alien eyes and alien faces ... I realized that I was expressing myself badly, but what I meant was a desire to rejoice in unfamiliar customs and attributes. Portugal — à la bonne heure. But the Portuguese, His Majesty's subjects, they were exactly what had first captivated my entire attention. This ancient Celtic-Iberian race, to which in historical times admixtures of blood from various sources, Phoenician, Carthaginian, Roman, and Arabic, had been added — what a charming, captivating human type it had little by little brought forth — its demure grace now and again ennobled by a racial pride of an imperious, indeed terrifying kind. 'How warmly is Your Majesty to be congratulated on being the ruler of so fascinating a people!'
'Why, yes, why, yes, very pretty, very polite,' Dom Carlos said. 'Thank you, dear marquis, for the kindly view you take of the country and people of Portugal.' And I had decided that he wished to end the audience with these words when he added, quite to the contrary: 'But shan't we sit down? Cher ambassadeur, let's sit down for a while.'