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Updated: June 6, 2025
Mingle your tears of joy with mine!" "What can there be of such a marvellously fortunate description announced to you on a card?" inquired Euchar. "Don't be startled," murmured Ludwig, "when I open to you the gates of the magically brilliant Paradise of a thousand delights, which will unfold itself to me by the virtue of this card here."
Euchar, finding himself in presence of a situation which is but too common in life, and is consequently served up to us ad nauseam in comedies and novels, had his own particular ideas as to his friend's domestic happiness. He felt with Ludwig all the painfulness of the position, and began to talk about indifferent subjects.
I wanted to find the dear little creature out the next morning, but it was not a part of the mutual interdependence of things that I should succeed in that. I had almost forgotten all about her when chance " "The mutual interdependence of things, you mean," interrupted Euchar. "Well, well," went on Ludwig.
This feeling of angry irritation he now brought to bear upon himself, filled as he was by the profoundest pity for the poor girl, whose destiny seemed to have been ruled by such an evil star. It so happened that on this very evening the self-same party to which Euchar had told the story of Edgar's adventures in Spain, two years previously, were assembled at Madame Veh's.
She fixed her gaze upon his hand, seized it in both her own, and falling on her knees with a loud cry of "Oh, Dios!" covered it with the warmest kisses. "Ah!" cried Ludwig, "nothing but gold is worthy to touch that beautiful little hand." And he asked Euchar if he could give him change for a thaler, as he had no smaller money about him.
And a curious and delightful scene displayed itself to Euchar, which fettered all his mind and attention. In the middle of the ring a girl with her eyes blindfolded was dancing the fandango amongst nine eggs, arranged three by three behind each other on the ground, and playing a tambourine as she danced. At one side stood a little deformed man, with an ill-looking gypsy face, playing the guitar.
The morning after the ball at Count Walther Puck's, Euchar received a note from Ludwig, running as follows: "Dearest and most beloved friend, I am utterly miserable. I am stricken by destiny. It is all over with me! I am dashed down from the flowery summit of the fairest hope into the blackest and most fathomless abyss of the deepest despair.
As soon as the tranquillity of the company was restored, she pointed out that it was time that a vivid narrative of something should take the place of reading, and thought Euchar ought really to make it his duty to undertake this, seeing that, in general, he was so obstinately silent, as to contribute little to the entertainment of the company.
"That, of course, is exactly what he did do," said Euchar, a slight redness overspreading his cheeks. Even before this particular meeting with her, on other occasions of his seeing that marvellously beautifully child, he had felt the most distinct presentiments of what would follow, and a sense of the deepest affection, like nothing which he had ever experienced before.
"How do you know," asked Euchar, "that this little hunchback is an accursed miscreant?" "Cold creature!" answered Ludwig. "Cold, passionless creature, you understand nothing, you have no sympathy with anything, no sense of the genial, the imaginative.
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