Burlesques William Makepeace Thackeray

183
THE FESTIVAL.
The festival was indeed begun. Coming on horseback, or in their caroches, knights and
ladies of the highest rank were assembled in the grand saloon of Godesberg, which was
splendidly illuminated to receive them. Servitors, in rich liveries, (they were attired in
doublets of the sky-blue broadcloth of Ypres, and hose of the richest yellow sammit—the
colors of the house of Godesberg,) bore about various refreshments on trays of silver—
cakes, baked in the oven, and swimming in melted butter; manchets of bread, smeared with
the same delicious condiment, and carved so thin that you might have expected them to
take wing and fly to the ceiling; coffee, introduced by Peter the Hermit, after his excursion
into Arabia, and tea such as only Bohemia could produce, circulated amidst the festive
throng, and were eagerly devoured by the guests. The Margrave's gloom was unheeded by
them—how little indeed is the smiling crowd aware of the pangs that are lurking in the
breasts of those who bid them to the feast! The Margravine was pale; but woman knows
how to deceive; she was more than ordinarily courteous to her friends, and laughed, though
the laugh was hollow, and talked, though the talk was loathsome to her.
"The two are together," said the Margrave, clutching his friend's shoulder. "NOW LOOK!"
Sir Ludwig turned towards a quadrille, and there, sure enough, were Sir Hildebrandt and
young Otto standing side by side in the dance. Two eggs were not more like! The reason of
the Margrave's horrid suspicion at once flashed across his friend's mind.
"'Tis clear as the staff of a pike," said the poor Margrave, mournfully. "Come, brother,
away from the scene; let us go play a game at cribbage!" and retiring to the Margravine's
boudoir, the two warriors sat down to the game.
But though 'tis an interesting one, and though the Margrave won, yet he could not keep his
attention on the cards: so agitated was his mind by the dreadful secret which weighed upon
it. In the midst of their play, the obsequious Gottfried came to whisper a word in his
patron's ear, which threw the latter into such a fury, that apoplexy was apprehended by the
two lookers-on. But the Margrave mastered his emotion. "AT WHAT TIME, did you say?"
said he to Gottfried.
"At daybreak, at the outer gate."
"I will be there."
"AND SO WILL I TOO," thought Count Ludwig, the good Knight of Hombourg.