Which agitates at the court, a nation of enviers.
Look at this fragile grandeur,
And cease at last to admire
The pompous shining of a city
Where all feign to adore thee."

"Know that Fortune is light and inconstant;
A deceiver who delights
in cruel reverses;
She is seen to abuse the wise man, the vulgar
Insolently playing with all this weak universe.
To-day it is on my head
That she lets her favors fall,
By to-morrow she will be prepared
To carry them elsewhere."

"Does she fix on me her wayward fickleness,
My heart will be grateful for the good she does me;
Does she wish to show elsewhere her benevolence,
I give her back her gifts without pain--without regret.
Filled with strongest virtue,
I will espouse Poverty,
If for dower she brings me
Honor and probity."]

The paper fell from the count's hand and he looked at it thoughtfully.
An expression of deep emotion rested upon his countenance, which, in
spite of his fifty years, could still be called handsome--as he repeated
in a low, trembling voice:

"J'epouse la pauvrete, Si pour dot elle m'apporte L'honneur et la
probite."

The sun coming through the window rested upon his tall form, causing
the many jewels upon his garments to sparkle like stars on the blue
background, enveloping him in a sort of glory. He had repeated for the
third time, "J'epouse la pauvrete," when the door leading to his wife's
apartments was opened, and the countess entered in the full splendor of
her queenly toilet, sparkling with jewels. The count was startled by her
entrance, but he now broke out into a loud, mocking laugh.

"Truly, countess," said he, "you could not have found a better moment to
interrupt me. For the last half hour my thoughts have been given up
to sentiment. Wonderful dreams have been chasing each other through
my brain. But you have again shown yourself my good angel, Antonia, by
dissipating these painful thoughts." He pressed a fervent kiss upon her
hand, then looking at her with a beaming countenance, he said:

"How beautiful you are, Antonia; you must have found that mysterious
river which, if bathed in, insures perpetual youth and beauty."

"Ah!" said the countess, smiling, "all know that no one can flatter so
exquisitely as Count Bruhl."

"But I am not always paid with the same coin, Anton