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Updated: June 15, 2025
Rosas bowed to the minister and withdrew without replying, followed by Kayser and Marianne who, on reaching the threshold of the salon, seized his hand and pressed it nervously within her own soft one and said quickly: "You will return, oh! I beg you! Ah! it is too bad to have run away! You will come back!" She was at once entreating and commanding him.
Kayser had experienced only astonishment at the flight of his niece. How was it that he had never suspected the cause that disturbed her thoughts? "These diabolical women, nobody knows them, not even those who made them. A father even would not have detected anything. The more excuse therefore for an uncle!"
Had Guy been blended with her life but for a single moment? She embraced Rosas with her burning glance. She no longer saw Sulpice, but he never looked away from Mademoiselle Kayser. He thought her a most charming woman.
It was Karajan who discovered and published this pleasant correspondence with her. She was the daughter of the Hofrath von Kayser; her name was Maria Anna Sabina; she was born Nov. 6th, 1750, and had been married some seventeen years, and was the mother of five children when Haydn began taking his every Sunday dinner with the family. Karajan says that she was an ausgezeichnete singer and pianist.
[Footnote 99: Kayser notes another translation, “Fragmente in Yorick’s Manier, aus dem Eng., mit Kpf.,
There, at least, she was all alone, face to face with herself, consumed by a cowardly fear the fear of the future this young girl who had read everything, learned everything, understood everything, knew everything, sullied by all the jokes of the Kayser studio, which, in spite of the exalted, sacrosanct, æsthetic discussions which took place therein, sometimes shockingly resembled a smoking-room this physical virgin without any virginity of mind, could there take refuge in herself, and there in the solitude to which she was condemned, she questioned herself as to the end to which her present life would lead her.
She recovered, by an effort that swelled her heart, strength to show nothing of the feeling of indignant rebellion that was stifling her. She closed her eyes. Marianne Kayser passed onward, losing herself with Simon and De Rosas in the human furrow that opened before her and immediately closed upon her, and followed by a murmur of admiration.
First, the anonymous character of the work; and, secondly, the frequent imitations of it by Cicero in his De Inventione, an incomplete essay written when he was a young man. Who the author was is not agreed; the balance of probability is in favour of CORNIFICIUS. Kayser points out several coincidences between Cornificius's views, as quoted by Quintilian, and the rhetorical treatise to Herennius.
She was an orphan, and had been brought up by her uncle, Simon Kayser, a serious painter, indifferent to all that did not concern his art, its morality, its dignity, its superiority who had, under cover of his own ignorance, allowed the ardent dreams of his niece and her wayward fits to develop freely like poisonous plants; near this man, in the vicious atmosphere of an old bachelor's disorderly household, Marianne had lived the bitter life of a young woman out of her element, poor, but with every instinct unswervingly leaning towards the enjoyments of luxury.
It was arranged that Vaudrey should wait for her at the entrance with a hired carriage and take her to Rue Prony. She wrote to him that she could not leave the house. A slight headache. Uncle Kayser undertook to have the letter taken by a commissionaire. "Unless you would rather have me go to the ministry!" "Are you mad?" Marianne said. "That is true, it would be immoral."
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