ighness's gallery with some other
rarities, for in his dark lumber-room he possesses many things which he
himself does not know or value, and is often self-willed enough to
prefer his own works to all those of elder masters."

Edward took his leave; he did not, however, go immediately home, but
hastened, lightly drest as he was, to the park, ran briskly through the
distant snow-covered walks, laughed aloud, and exclaimed: "O world,
world! Mere toys and fooleries: O folly, thou motley, whimsical child,
how prettily dost thou conduct thy favorites by thy glittering
leading-strings! Long live the great Eulenboeck, he who surpasses Julio
Romano and Raphael! So for once in my life I have been fortunate enough
to know one of the knowing ones."

* * * * *

Edward had now made preparations for the jovial evening which he had
concerted with Eulenboeck. A short time back this day appeared to him as
an irksome one, which he only wished to have soon over; but now his
mood was such, that he anticipated these hours of giddiness with
pleasure, thinking they would be the last he should enjoy for a long
time. Towards evening the old man made his appearance, trailing in with
the help of a servant two hampers filled with wine. "What means this?"
asked Edward: "Is not it settled then that I am to entertain you?" "And
thou shalt too," said the veteran: "I am only bringing a supplementary
stock, because thou dost not properly understand the thing, and because
I mean this evening to make a complete bout of it."

"A melancholy purpose," rejoined Edward, "to resolve to be merry; and
yet I have formed it too, in spite of myself and my destiny."

"See there," said Eulenboeck, laughing, "hast thou too a destiny? That
is more than I ever knew, youngster: to me thy nature seemed at the
utmost prone to a sort of suspense. But the other is undoubtedly the
choicer word, and perhaps it may improve into dexterity, when thou art
grown a little wiser. Ay, ay, my friend, dexterity, that is what most
men want, intelligence to take advantage of circumstances or to produce
them, and thereupon they fall into destiny, or even into that still
more fatal suspense, when a Christian hand is not always to be found to
cut them down."

"Thou art impudent," exclaimed Edward, "and thinkest thyself witty; or
else thou art already fuddled."

"May be, child," said the other with a grin, "and we will soon take
measures for sobering