Blanden was obliged to be patient. Meanwhile the room became still more full of the most divers nocturnal wanderers, who before cock-crow would be tired of drinking, or have fallen victims to intoxication.
A merry swarm of students of undaunted courage, coming from a drinking party, crowded in with merry songs, pushing before them a lame gentleman with a beard, whom they had met upon the threshold.
"The first dish for Spiegeler--he has done his part well."
"Ho, Kätchen, the first intestines for the reporter, because he is the priest who offers up the sacrifice."
"Bravo, Spiegeler, lame, divine messenger of fame, Mercury without wings."
Thus the voices resounded in confusion, and Spiegeler did, indeed, receive the first fleck that was produced from the kettle.
Blanden became attentive. These speeches concerned the critic who had attacked Giulia.
"My dear Herr Spiegeler," one voice could be heard saying, in whose precocious, instructive tones he soon recognised the wise Salomon of the sea side, "I grant you all possible laurels, and also the first of the intestines; because critics are like the Roman haruspices who, after the contemplation of entrails, can prophecy or speak the truth."
"Hush, Salomon is speaking."
"I also remark that I have not the honour of sharing your views as a critic, but still you are a man of intellect, and nothing is more interesting than when such men defend false views."