“He himself told us, when we met him in Dalmatia,” continued the latter, “that he could spell Dodecandria and Trigynia before he could read Grimm’s Story-Book; and that he knew the meanings of monopetalous and campaniform before he was acquainted with the languages from which the terms were derived. I never saw a man so eager in pursuit of apetalous amentaceous flowers; and as for carryophylous”——
“Leave off your abominable phrases!” said I, “and begin by telling me how you two very modest fellows introduced yourselves to the acquaintance of the Sovereign of Saxony.”
“The introduction was effected through a very light-hearted and intelligent fellow-botanizer, whom we met on our way from Zara up to the mountains. We had all three lost our way while endeavouring to find an infundibuliform”——
“Nay,” interrupted I, “I care not what you found, if you choose to tell it in pentameters.”
“Well,” resumed Knudtzen, “we were in a wild part of the country,—weary, hungry, cold, and in the dark. Wanderers could not well be in a worse plight. We were as flûté as Juno’s columns near the church of St. Helia; and the skeleton doing duty there for that of St. Simeon of Judæa, the pride and palladium of the people of Zara, looked in far better condition, and in, especially, better raiment, than could be boasted of by us humble pedestrians. We had walked many leagues, when we reached a sorry inn kept by a Gipsy, where we hoped to find rest and refreshment, but were permitted to enjoy neither. Our swarthy host stood in his door-way, like Horatius Cocles at the head of the bridge. Beds he did not even profess to find for travellers. He had not slept in one himself for years, and was none the worse, he said, for the privation. Leopold asked for wine.
“‘We have three sorts of wine,’ said the Gipsy, ‘which travellers like yourselves once tasted and paid for. I have the very wines which the seven Schwaben asked for in the Goldenes Kreutz at Ueberlingen.’
“‘What! old Sauerampfer?’ cried Löwenskiold.
“‘The same,’ said our singular host. ‘It is not quite so sour as vinegar, but it will pierce the marrow of your bones like a sword; and it will so twist your mouth, that you shall never get it straight again.’
“‘We will try something better than this acid water,’ said I: ‘we will’——
“‘Try the Dreimännerswein? I am sorry there are only women in the house!’