The fairy lass was willing.
And since I drew that honeyed kiss
My heart's been drunken all with bliss--
Ah, just once more, my treasure,
Fill me a brimming measure!
'That's enough of such indelicate allusions, now, Mr. Bacchus,' says she; 'you know very well that their High Mightinesses keep me strictly locked up, and don't allow me to admit anyone at all.' 'Not even me, dear Rosie,' said he; 'ah, I think they would wink at it if you let me in now and then for a taste at your lips.' 'You're a rogue,' she answered, 'and little better than a Turk. I should like to know how many sweethearts you want. I know of your goings on with those frivolous French girls, Miss Champagne, (who has no more colour in her face than a dried pea,) and Fräulein von Bordeaux, the sickly minx. Ah, you have not the true Rhinelander's heart, nor understand the Rhinelander's love.' 'Pooh, my dear,' says he, 'I have visited these ladies occasionally, and amused myself with their wit, but nothing else; rest assured, my dearest, my heart is thine alone.' 'And then I fancy,' she went on, 'that I have heard some stories from Spain. Of poor Lady Xeres I will say nothing, (that's too well-known a story for you to deny); but how about the Señorina Dentilla di Rosa, Señorina San Lucar, and Señora Ximenes--a married lady too?' 'You carry your jealousy too far,' said he, with some asperity. 'I don't see why one should give up one's old connexions. As for the Señora Ximenes, I merely visit her out of kindness to you as being your relation.' 'Our relation?' muttered Rosa and the others, 'how's that?' 'Don't you know,' he continued, 'that she is originally from the Rhine? The most excellent hidalgo, Don Ximenes, took her from thence to his home in Spain when she was a very tender maid, and there she settled, and naturally took his family name. But she preserves with the Spanish sweetness much of the true German character, especially in colour and scent.' 'Long life to her, then,' cried they all, 'if she really is Rosie's cousin.' Rosa did not seem quite satisfied with her sweetheart's cunning mode of extricating himself from the scrape, so she changed the subject by turning round to the others and rallying them each in turn on the way in which the years had treated or spared them. One looked pale, she said, another was but half awake, a third had grown fat, almost too lazy to drink, a fourth was as ready for a joke as ever, and so on--'but hallo, why there are thirteen of you. Who's that in the strange clothing over there? who brought him in?'
Was I frightened or not? None of them looked pleased at my presence: but I said, 'I present my compliments to this worthy assemblage; I am really nothing but a man, who has taken a degree of Ph.D., and at present my residence is at the Frankfurt hotel in this city.'
'But, oh man who hast taken a degree, how camest thou here, man?' 'Apostle,' I answered--it was Peter whose eyes flashed fire on me as he spoke--'I'll trouble you not to call me man till we're better acquainted. And as for this society into which you say I have come, you are quite in error; it came to me, not I to it, for I had been sitting in this very room nearly an hour past' (I don't know whence I got the courage to say this--probably from the 'Special '22'). 'But what were you doing in the cellar at this time of night, sir?' said Bacchus rather more gently; 'you ought to be asleep.' 'Your Honour,' says I, 'I had excellent reasons for being here. I am a particular friend of the noble drink that is stored here, and, by favour of the not less noble Senate, I received permission to pay you all a visit--time and place not specified.'
'So you like to drink Rhine wine,' said Bacchus; 'that's a good liking to have in these days, when most men have grown so cold towards the golden spring,' 'Yes,' growled out the man in the red coat, 'no one will drink us now except here and there a travelling doctor, like this fellow, or a schoolmaster out for a holiday; and most of them water it first.' 'I beg most respectfully to contradict you, Mr. Jude,' said I. 'I have already tried you all round, and had but recently sat down to a few modest bottles of a more contemporaneous vintage, and that I have paid for myself.' 'Don't get hot, doctor,' said my Lady Rose, 'he didn't mean to hurt your feelings; he only reflected upon the low manners and bad taste of the present day.' 'Bad taste, low manners, I should think so,' said another. 'The generation that concocts a detestable mixture of brandy and half a dozen kinds of syrups, and calls it Château Margaux or Sillery, must indeed feel itself unworthy of a noble drink. And then people wonder why they get red rings round their mouths and a splitting headache the next day. Cochineal and brandy, nothing else!'
'What a life it was too when we were young, even as late as '26; yes, even as late as '50. Every evening, were it bright sunshiny spring, or deep wintry snow, the little rooms here were alive with joyous guests. The Senators of Bremen sat with majestic wigs on their heads, their weapons at their sides, and their glasses before them. That's what I call honour and dignity. Here, here, not upon the earth was their council chamber; here the true hall of the senate; here was settled over the cool wine the affairs of the nation and of most other nations besides. If they didn't agree they never quarrelled, but just drank each other's healths till they did; and if they ever failed it was because they didn't go on drinking long enough--but this rarely happened. Equal friends of the noble wine, how could they but be friends of each other? And on the next day their word pledged overnight was held sacred, and the resolves taken overnight were executed coolly enough in the morning.'