Barbara Blomberg — Complete

by Georg Ebers

  CHAPTER IX.

  The Queen's commission imposed upon Wolf a long series of inspections,inquiries, orders, and preparations, the most important of whichdetained him a long time at the Golden Cross.

  After he had done what was necessary there, he hastily took a lunch, andthen went to the house of the Golden Stag. The steward of the Schiltlfamily, to whom the house belonged, but who were now in the country, hadgiven the boy choir shelter there, and Wolf was obliged to informthe leader of his arrangements. Appenzelder had intended to practiseexercises with his young pupils in the chapel belonging to this oldhouse, familiar to all the inhabitants of Ratisbon, but Wolf found itempty. On the other hand, young, clear voices echoed from a room in thelower story.

  The door stood half open, and, before he crossed the threshold, he hadheard with surprise the members of the boy choir, lads ranging fromtwelve to fifteen, discussing how they should spend the leisure timeawaiting them.

  The ringleader, Giacomo Bianchi, from Bologna, was asserting that "theold bear"--he meant Appenzelder--"would never permit the incompletechoir to sing before the Emperor and his royal sister."

  "So we shall have the afternoon," he exclaimed. "The grooms will give mea horse, and after dinner I, and whoever cares to go with me, will rideback to the village where we last stopped. What do I want there? I'llget the kiss which the tavernkeeper's charming little daughter owesme. Her sweet mouth and fair braids with the bows of blue ribbon--I sawnothing prettier anywhere!"

  "Yes, these blondes!" cried Angelo Negri, a Neapolitan boy of thirteen,rolling his black eyes upward enthusiastically, and kissing, for lack ofwarm lips, the empty air.

  "Sweet, sweet, sweet," sighed Giacoma Bianchi.

  "Sweet enough," remarked little thick-set Cornelius Groen from Breda,in broken Italian. "Yet you surely are not thinking of that silly girl,with her flaxen braids, but of the nice honey and the light white pastryshe brought us. If we can get that again, I'll ride there with you."

  "I won't," protested Wilhelm Haldema, from Leuwarden in Friesland. "Ishall go down to the river with my pole. It's swarming with fish."

  Wolf had remained concealed until this moment. Now he entered the hugeapartment.

  The boys rushed toward him with joyous ease, and, as they crowded aroundhim, asking all sorts of questions, it was evident that he possessedtheir affection and confidence.

  He kindly motioned to them to keep silence, and asked what induced themto expect leisure time on that day, when, by the exertion of all theirpowers, they were to display their skill in the presence of theirmistress and the Emperor.

  The answer was not delayed--nay, it sprang from many young lips at thesame time. Unfortunately, its character was such that Wolf scarcelyventured to hope for the full success of the surprise.

  Johann of Cologne and Benevenuto Bosco of Catania, in Sicily, the twoleaders and ornaments of the choir, were so very ill that their recoverycould scarcely be expected even within the next few days. The nativeof Cologne had been attacked on the way by a hoarseness which made thefifteenyear-old lad uneasy, because signs of the approaching change ofvoice had already appeared.

  The break meant to the extremely musical youth, who had beendistinguished by the bell-like purity of his tones, the loss of hiswell-paid position in the boy choir, which, for his poor mother's sake,he must retain as long as possible. So, with mingled grief and hope,he dipped deeply into his slender purse when, at Neumarkt, where thetravelling musicians spent the night just at the time the annual fairwas held, he met a quack who promised to help him.

  This extremely talkative old man, who styled himself "Body physician tomany distinguished princes and courts," boasted of possessing a secretremedy of the famous Bartliolomaus Anglicus, which, besides othermerits, also had the power of bestowing upon a harsh voice the melody ofDavid's harp.

  Still, the young native of Cologne delayed some time before using thenostrum. Not until the hoarseness increased alarmingly did he in hisneed take the leech's prescription, and Benevenuto Bosco, whom he hadadmitted to his confidence, and who also felt a certain rawness in histhroat, since beyond Nuremberg one shower of rain after another haddrenched the travellers, asked him to let him use the medicine also.

  At first both thought that they felt a beneficial result; but soon theircondition changed for the worse, and their illness constantly increased.

  On reaching Ratisbon they were obliged to go to bed, and a terriblenight was followed by an equally bad morning.

  When Appenzelder returned from the audience at the Golden Cross, hefound his two best singers in so pitiable a condition that he wasobliged to summon the Emperor's leech, Dr. Mathys, to the sufferers.

  The famous physician was really under obligations to remain near thesovereign at this time of day. Yet he had gone at once to the Stag, andpronounced the patients there to be the victims of severe poisoning.

  A Ratisbon colleague, whom he found with the sufferers, was tosuperintend the treatment which he prescribed.

  He had left the house a short time before. Master Appenzelder, Wolfheard from the choir boys, was now with the invalids, and the knight setoff to inquire about them at once.

  He had forbidden the idle young singers who wanted to go with him tofollow, but one had secretly slipped after, and, in one of the darkcorridors of the big house, full of nooks and corners, he suddenly hearda voice call his name. Ere he was aware of it, little Hannibal Melas,a young Maltese in the boy choir, whose silent, reserved nature hadobtained for him from the others the nickname Tartaruga, the tortoise,seized his right hand in both his own.

  It was done with evident excitement, and his voice sounded eagerlyurgent as he exclaimed:

  "I fix my last hope on you, Sir Knight, for you see there is scarcelyone of the others who would not have an intercessor. But I! Who wouldtrouble himself about me? Yet, if you would only put in a good word, mytime would surely come now."

  "Your time?" asked Wolf in astonishment; but the little fellow eagerlycontinued:

  "Yes, indeed! What Johann of Cologne or at least what Benevenuto can do,I can trust myself to do too. The master need only try it with me, and,now that both are ill, put me in place of one or the other."

  Wolf, who knew what each individual chorister could do, shook his head,and began to tell the boy from Malta for what good reason the masterpreferred the two sick youths; but little Hannibal interrupted byexclaiming, in tones of passionate lamentation:

  "So you are the same? The master having begun it, all misjudge and crushme! Instead of giving me an opportunity to show what I can do in a solopart, I am forced back into the crowd. My best work disappears in thechorus. And yet, Sir Wolf, in spite of all, I heard the master's ownlips say in Brussels--I wasn't listening--that he had never heard whatlends a woman's voice its greatest charm come so softly and tenderlyfrom the throat of a boy. Those are his own words. He will not denythem, for at least he is honest. What is to become of the singingwithout Johann and Benevenuto? But if they would try me, and at leasttrust a part of Bosco's music to me--"

  Here he stopped, for Master Appenzelder was just coming from the doorof the sick-room into the corridor; but Wolf, with a playful gesture,thrust his fingers through the lad's bushy coal-black hair, turned himin the direction from which he came, and called after him, "Your causeis in good hands, you little fellow with the big name."

  Then, laying his hand on the arm of the deeply troubled musician, andpointing to the boy who was trotting, full of hope, down the corridor,he said: "'Hannibal ante portas!' A cry of distress that is full ofterror; but the Maltese Hannibal who is vanishing yonder gave me an ideawhich will put an end to your trouble, my dear Maestro. The sooner thetwo poisoned lads recover the better, of course; yet the BenedictioMensae need not remain unsung on account of their heedlessness, forlittle Hannibal showed me the best substitute."

  This promise flowed from Wolf's lips with such joyous confidence thatthe grave musician's sombre face brightened; but it swiftly darkenedagain, and he exclaimed, "We don'
t give such hasty work!" When theknight tried to tell him what he had in mind, the other brusquelyinterrupted with the request that he would first aid him in a moreimportant matter. Wolf was acquainted with the city, and perhaps wouldspare him a walk by informing him where the sick lads would find thebest shelter. The Stag was overcrowded, and he was reluctant to leavethe poor fellows in the little sleeping room which they shared withtheir companions. The Ratisbon physician had ordered them to be sent tothe hospital; but the boy from Cologne opposed it so impetuously thathe, Appenzelder, thought it his duty to seek another shelter for thesufferers.

  When Wolf with the older man entered the low, close chamber, he foundthe lad, a handsome, vigorous boy, with his fair, curling hair tossed indisorder around his fevered face, standing erect in his bed. While thedoctor was trying to compel him to obey and enter the litter which stoodwaiting for him, he beat him back with his strong young fists. He wouldrather jump into the open grave or into the rushing river, he shriekedto the corpulent leech, than be dragged into the hospital, which was theplague, death, hell.

  He emphasized his resistance with heavy blows, while his Italiancompanion in suffering, livid, ashen-gray, with bowed head and closedlids, permitted himself to be placed in the litter without moving.

  At Wolf's entrance the German youth, like a drowning man who sees afriend on the shore, shrieked an entreaty to save him from the murdererswho wanted to drag him to death. The young knight gazed compassionatelyat the lad's flushed face, and, after a brief pause of reflection,proposed committing the sufferers to the care of the KnightsHospitallers.

  This removed the burden from the young Rhinelander's tortured soul, yethe insisted, with passionate impetuosity, upon having his master and thenobleman accompany him, that the physician whom, in his fevered fancy,he regarded as his mortal foe, should not drag him to the pest-houseafter all.

  Both musicians yielded to his wish. On the way Appenzelder heldthe lad's burning hand in his own, and never wearied of talkingaffectionately to him. Not until after he had seen his charges, with thephysician's assistance, comfortably lodged, and had left the house ofthe Hospitallers, did he permit himself to test the almost incrediblenews which Sir Wolf Hartschwert had brought him.

  With what fiery zeal Wolf persuaded him, how convincing was hisassurance that a substitute for Johann of Cologne, and a most admirableone, was actually to be found here in Ratisbon!

  He had no need to seek for fitting words in the description of BarbaraBlomberg, the melody of her voice, and her admirable training. The factthat she was a woman, he protested, need not be considered, nay, itmight be kept secret. The Church, it is true, prohibited the assistanceof women, but the matter here was simply the execution of songs in aprivate house.

  At first Appenzelder listened grumbling, and shaking his head indissent, but soon the proposal seemed worth heeding; nay, when he heardthat the singer, whose talent and skill the quiet, intelligent Germanpraised so highly, owed her training to his countryman, Damian Feys,whom he knew, he began to ask questions with, increasing interest.But, ere Wolf had answered the first queries, some one else made hisappearance on the Haid, and the very person who was best fitted to giveinformation about Barbara--her teacher, Feys, who had sought Gombert,his famous Brussels companion in art, and was just taking him to arehearsal of the Convivium musicum. At this meeting the leader of theboy choir, in spite of his pleasure at seeing his valued countryman andcompanion in art, showed far less patience than before, for, afterthe first greeting, he at once asked Feys what he thought of his pupilBarbara. The answer was so favourable that Appenzelder eagerly acceptedthe invitation to attend the rehearsal also. So the four fellow-artistscrossed the Haidplatz together, and Maestro Gombert was obliged toremind his colleague of the boy choir that people who occupied theconductor's desk forgot to run on a wager.

  Wolf's legs were by no means so long as those of the tall, broadmusician, yet, in his joyous excitement, it was an easy matter to keeppace with him. In the happy consciousness of meriting the gratitudeof the woman whom he loved, he gazed toward the New Scales, the largebuilding beneath whose roof she whose image filled his heart and mindmust already have found shelter.

  Did she see him coming? Did she suspect who his companions were, andwhat awaited her through them?

  Yet, sharply as he watched for her, he could discover no sign of herfair head behind any of the windows.

  Yet Barbara, from the little room where the singers laid aside theircloaks and wraps, had seen Wolf, with her singing master Feys and twoother gentlemen, coming toward the New Scales, and correctly guessed thenames of the slender, shorter stranger in the sable-trimmed mantle andthe big, broad-shouldered, bearded one who accompanied her friend. Wolfhad described them both, and a presentiment told her that somethinggreat awaited her through them.

  Gombert was the composer of the bird-song, and, as she remembered howthe refrain of this composition had affected Wolf the day before, sheheard the door close behind the group.

  Then the desire to please, which had never left her since she earned thefirst applause, seized upon her more fiercely than ever.

  Of what consequence were the listeners before whom she had hithertosung compared with those whose footsteps were now echoing on the loweststairs? And, half animated by an overpowering secret impulse, she sangthe refrain "Car la saison est bonne" aloud while passing the stairs onher way into the dancing hall, where the rehearsal was to take place.

  What an artless delight in the fairest, most pleasing thing in Natureto a sensitive young human soul this simple sentence voiced to theNetherland musicians! It seemed to them as if the song filled the dim,cold corridor with warmth and sunlight. Thus Gombert had heard withinhis mind the praise of spring when he set it to music, but had neverbefore had it thus understood by any singer, reproduced by any humanvoice.

  The excitable man stood as if spellbound; only a curt "My God! myGod!" gave expression to his emotion. The blunter Appenzelder, on thecontrary, when the singer suddenly paused and a door closed behind her,exclaimed: "The deuce, that's fine!--If that were your helper in need,Sir Wolf, all would be well!"

  "It is," replied Wolf proudly, with sparkling eyes; but the honest oldfellow rushed after Barbara, held out both hands to her in his frank,cordial way, and cried:

  "Thanks, heartfelt thanks, my dear, beautiful young lady! But if youimagine that this drop of nectar will suffice, you are mistaken. Youhave awakened thirst! Now see--and Gombert will thank you too--that itis quenched with a fuller gift of this drink of the gods."

  The Netherlanders found the table spread, and this rehearsal of theConvivium musicum brought Barbara Blomberg the happiest hours which lifehad ever bestowed.

  She saw with a throbbing heart that her singing not only pleased, butdeeply stirred the heart of the greatest composer of his time, whosename had filled her with timid reverence, and that, while listeningto her voice, the eyes of the sturdy Appenzelder, who looked as if hisbroad breast was steeled against every soft emotion, glittered withtears.

  This had happened during the execution of Josquin de Pres's "Ecce tupulchra es'."

  Barbara's voice had lent a special charm to this magnificent motet,and, when she concluded the "Quia amore langueo"--"Because I yearn forlove"--to which she had long given the preference when she felt impelledto relieve her heart from unsatisfied yearning, she had seen Gombertlook at the choir leader, and understood the "inimitable" which was notintended for her, but for his fellow-artist.

  Hitherto she had done little without pursuing a fixed purpose, butthis time Art, and the lofty desire to serve her well, filled herwhole being. In the presence of the most famous judges she imposed theseverest demands upon herself. Doubtless she was also glad to show Wolfwhat she could do, yet his absence would not have diminished an iota ofwhat she gave the Netherlanders. She felt proud and grateful that shebelonged to the chosen few who are permitted to express, by means of anoble art, the loftiest and deepest feelings in the human breast. Hadnot Appenzelder been compelled t
o interrupt the rehearsal, she wouldgladly have sung on and on to exhaustion.

  She did not yet suspect what awaited her when, in well-chosen yetcordial words, Gombert expressed his appreciation.

  She neither saw nor heard the fellow-singers who surrounded her; nay,when Dr. Hiltner, the syndic's, daughter, seventeen years old, who hadlong looked up to her with girlish enthusiasm, pressed forward to herside, and her charming mother, sincerely pleased, followed more quietly,when others imitated their example and expressed genuine gratificationor made pretty speeches, Barbara scarcely distinguished the one from theother, honest good will from bitter envy.

  She did not fully recover her composure until Appenzelder came up to herand held out his large hand.

  Clasping it with a smile, she permitted the old musician to hold herlittle right hand, while in a low tone, pointing to Wolf, who hadfollowed him, he said firmly:

  "May I believe the knight? Would you be induced to bestow yourmagnificent art upon an ardent old admirer like myself, though to-dayonly as leader of the voices in the boy choir--"

  Here Wolf, who had noticed an expression of refusal upon Barbara's lips,interrupted him by completing the sentence with the words, addressedto her, "In order to let his Majesty the Emperor enjoy what delights ushere?"

  The blood receded from Barbara's cheeks, and, as she clung to thewindow-sill for support, it seemed as though some magic spell hadconveyed her to the summit of the highest steeple. Below her yawned thedizzy gulf of space, and the air was filled with a rain of sceptres,crowns, and golden chains of honour falling upon ermine and purple robeson the ground below.

  But after a few seconds this illusion vanished, and, ere Wolf couldspring to the assistance of the pallid girl, she was already passing herkerchief across her brow.

  Then, drawing a long breath, she gave the companion of her childhood agrateful glance, and said to Appenzelder:

  "Dispose of my powers as you deem best," adding, after a brief pause,"Of course, with my father's consent."

  Appenzelder, as if rescued, shook her hand again, this time with sostrong a pressure that it hurt her. Yet her blue eyes sparkled asbrightly as if her soul no longer had room for pain or sorrow. AfterBarbara had made various arrangements with the choir leader, it seemedto her as though the sunny, blissful spring, which her song had justcelebrated so exquisitely, had also made its joyous entry into thenarrow domain of her life.

  On the way home she thanked the friend who accompanied her with theaffectionate warmth of the days of her childhood, nay, even more eagerlyand tenderly; and when, on reaching the second story of the cantorhouse, he took leave of her, she kissed his cheek, unasked, calling downthe stairs as she ran up:

  "There is your reward! But, in return, you will accompany me first tothe rehearsal with the singing boys, and then--if you had not arrangedit yourself you would never believe it--go to the Golden Cross, to theEmperor Charles."