to be asleep, but they were no sooner gone than Florestein, that funny little fop who never had thought of anything more serious than his appearance, reeled out of the hotel. He was dressed all in his good clothes, and wore golden chains about his neck – to one of which was attached a fine medallion. Rings glittered on his fingers, and altogether, with his plumes and furbelows, he was precisely the sort of thing Devilshoof and his companions were looking for. He was so very drunk that he could not imagine what a fool he was making of himself, and so he began to sing:
Wine, wine, if I am heir,
To the count, my uncle's line;
Wine, wine, wine,
Where's the fellow will dare
To refuse his nephew wine?
This excellent song was punctuated by hiccoughs. There was another stanza which rebuked the boldness of the moon – in short, mentioned the shortcomings of most people compared to this elegant fellow's. Altogether, he was a very funny joke to the gipsies who were waiting for him and peering and laughing from round a corner as he sang. Then Devilshoof went up to him with mock politeness. He bowed very seriously.
My ear caught not the clock's last chime,
And might I beg to ask the time?
Florestein, even though he was drunk, was half alive to his danger. He hadn't enough courage to survive a sudden sneeze. So he braced up a little and eyed Devilshoof:
If the bottle has prevailed,
Yet whenever I'm assailed,
Though there may be nothing in it,
I am sobered in a minute.
One could see that this was quite true. Florestein was a good deal worried. He took out his watch, and assured Devilshoof that it was quite late.
I am really grieved to see
Any one in such a state,
And gladly will take the greatest care
Of the rings and chains you chance to wear,
Devilshoof said still more politely; and bowing all of the time he removed the ornaments from Florestein's person.
What I thought was politeness, is downright theft,
And at this rate I soon shall have nothing left,
the unfortunate dandy moaned, clutching his gewgaws hopelessly, while all the gipsies beset him, each taking all he could for himself. But Devilshoof having secured the medallion, made off with it. He was no sooner gone than a dark woman wrapped in a cloak came into the street and, when she was right in the midst of the squabble, she dropped her cloak and revealed herself as Queen of the band. All the gipsies were amazed and not very comfortable either! – because, strange to say, this gipsy queen did not approve of the maraudings of her band; and when she caught them at thievery she punished them.
"Return those things you have stolen," she commanded, and they made haste to do so, while the trembling Florestein took a hurried inventory of his property. But among the things returned, he didn't find the medallion.
"I'm much obliged to you, Madame, whoever you are, but I'd like a medallion that they have taken, returned."
"That belongs to the chief – Devilshoof," they cried.
"I'll answer for your safety," the Queen said to Florestein, who was not overmuch reassured by this, but still tried to make the best of things. "Now follow me," she called the band, and went, holding Florestein and dragging him with her.
They had no sooner gone than Arline, who had been awakened by the noise outside the tent, came out into the street. Thaddeus followed her. She was greatly disturbed.
"Thaddeus," she said, "I have had a strange dream":
[Listen]
I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,
With vassals and serfs at my side,
And of all who assembled within those walls,
That I was the joy and the pride.
I had riches too great to count; – could boast
Of a high ancestral name;
But I also dreamt (which pleased me most)
That you loved me still the same.
I dreamt that suitors sought my hand,
That knights upon bended knee
And with vows no maiden heart could withstand
They pledged their faith to me.
And I dreamt that one of that noble host
Came forth my hand to claim,
But I also dreamt (which pleased me most)
That you loved me still the same.
When she had ceased to sing, Thaddeus embraced her tenderly and assured her that he should love her always, "still the same."
Arline had often been troubled because of some difference between herself and the gipsies, and she had also been curious about a scar which was upon her arm. So upon that night she questioned Thaddeus about this, and he told her of the accident in the forest twelve years before, when she got the wound upon her arm. However, he did not reveal to her that she was the daughter of a noble.
"Thou wert but six years old when this accident befell thee," Thaddeus told her. But Arline was not yet satisfied.
"There is more to tell! I know that I am not of this gipsy band – nor art thou! – I feel that this is true, Thaddeus. Wilt thou not tell me the secret if there is one?" and Thaddeus had decided that he would do this, when the curtains at the back of the Queen's tent were parted and the gipsy Queen herself appeared.
"Do you dare throw yourself into the arms of this man, when I love him?" the Queen demanded angrily, at which Arline and Thaddeus were thrown into consternation. But Arline had plenty of courage, especially after what had just happened; hence she appealed to Thaddeus himself. He declared his love for her, and the two called for their comrades. All ran in and asked what the excitement was about.
Arline declared to them that she and Thaddeus loved each other and wished to be married – which pleased Devilshoof mightily. All life was a joke to him, and he knew perfectly that the Queen was in love with Thaddeus.
"Ho, ho," he laughed. "Now we shall have everybody by the ears. Come!" he cried to the Queen. "As queen of the gipsies, it is your business to unite this handsome pair. We are ready for the ceremony," and they all laughed and became uproarious. The Queen's pride would not let her ignore the challenge, so she advanced haughtily and took the hands of the lovers.
"Hand to hand and heart to heart,
Who shall those I've united part?"
she chanted; and with this gipsy rite, they were united.
Then the band sat down in groups and made merry; but the Queen began to plot revenge against Arline.
While they lounged about, prolonging the revel, a gipsy entered and told them that day was dawning, and that already the people of the city were awake and wending their way to a fair which the gipsies were bound for; and if they were to make anything by their dances and tricks they had better be up and doing.
"Up, all of you!"
