Read Online Pictor's Metamorphoses by Hermann Hesse - Free Book Online Page B

exaggeration got down on his knees and spoke with pompous solemnity: “I do so promise, most noble lady!”
    Then he and Ludwig Ugel hurried off. First they went to the horticulturist near the cemetery, and raged with merciless shears through the proprietor’s rose garden. Lauscher especially was not to be restrained. “I must have a huge basket full of white roses,” he cried repeatedly, leaving no branch untrimmed, shearing off dozens and dozens of his favorite flower for the lovely Lulu. Then he paid the gardener, told him to bring the roses to the Crown that evening, and sauntered off through the town with Ugel. Whenever they saw something bright or colorful in a shop window, they stormed in and made their purchases: fans, scarfs, silk ribbons, paper lanterns, and finally some small fireworks that would still make a fine display. Back at the Crown, the lovely Lulu had her hands full with receiving and arranging all these effects. But, unknown to anyone, the good Turnabout helped her until evening.
    8
    L ULU WAS EVEN more beautiful and more gay than ever. Lauscher and Ugel had finished their supper; one after another, their friends arrived at the inn. When they had all gathered together, following Lauscher—who gracefully led Lulu on his arm—they proceeded into the back room. Its walls were covered with scarfs, ribbons, and garlands. From the ceiling hung row upon row of colorful lanterns, every one of them lit. The large table was spread with a white cloth, set with champagne glasses, and strewn with fresh roses. The poet presented his lady with the philosopher’s lily, put a half-opened tea rose in her hair, and escorted her to the place of honor. Everyone was in good cheer and sat down with some commotion; the evening was inaugurated with a choral song. Now the corks flew from the bottles; frothing over, the bright noble wine flowed into the fragile glasses, and Erich Tänzer made the champagne toast. Jokes were answered with laughter; Turnabout’s late arrival was hailed with thunderous applause; Ugel and Lauscher each recited a few charming verses. Then the lovely Lulu sang this song:
    A King once lay in prison
    In deep and dark distress—
    But now he is arisen
    The King called Sorrowless.
    And now bright lights are gleaming
    Throughout the happy land,
    And now glad poems are streaming
    From every poet’s hand.
    More white and red than ever
    Lilies and roses bloom;
    Silversong’s harpstrings quiver
    With its most sacred song.
    When the song ended, Lauscher dug deep into the basket of roses, and applauding the singer, he threw handful after handful of white roses her way. Then a merry war was declared: roses flew from seat to seat, in dozens, in hundreds, white roses, red roses; old Turnabout’s hair and gray beard were completely covered with them. It was nearly midnight; Turnabout stood up and made a speech:
    â€œDear Friends and Beautiful Lulu! We can all see that the reign of King Sorrowless has begun anew. Even I must say farewell today, but not without the hope that I may see you all again; for my King, into whose service I return, is a friend to the young and to poets. Were you philosophers, I would tell you all a mystical allegory about the Rebirth of the Beautiful, and especially about the Salvation of the Poetic Principle through the ironic Metamorphosis of Mythos, the happy ending of which you will soon come to know. But, as things are, I shall present the denouement of this Askian tale in pleasing pictures before your very eyes. Let the play go on!”
    All eyes followed his index finger to a huge, embroidered curtain that closed off one corner of the room. The curtain was suddenly illuminated from within, revealing a weft of innumerable silver lilies framing the marble basin of a gushing fountainhead. The art of the textile and of the lighting was so fine that the lilies could be seen growing, swaying, interlacing, and the spring plashing and