The company acceded to the invitation, some from conviction, the majority excited by wine, not a few out of mere politeness, with loud hurrahs, accompanied by a noisy flourish from the band, while the speaker descended from his chair and received, with proud modesty, the thanks of his host and the congratulations of the guests. He had surpassed himself today; he had been magnificent, it was only a pity and a shame that he had not given it stronger to Lasker, who really had deserved more.
“I do not think he will be too pleased as it is,” answered Herr Norberg complacently; “but now, Schmidt, old boy, up with you! You can’t help yourself!”
“No, you can’t help yourself!” chimed in the guests; “up with you! fire away!”
“But, gentlemen,” exclaimed Philip, “after such a speech! Let me have a few minutes to think at least.”
“It won’t do you any good!” said Herr Norberg encouragingly and patronisingly, “I know all about it! Improvise as I did, it always answers best.”
“If you think—”
“Silence! listen! don’t you see?”
The tall, broad-shouldered man who now stood on the chair was visible enough; and as his appearance in that place was already expected, there ensued at any rate sufficient quiet to enable him to begin with a certain amount of dignity.
He would be brief, as fortunately he was in a position to be. The gratitude he felt for the distinguished honour which had just been shown him, for the kindness, the friendliness, yes, he ventured to say the word—the affection which was showered upon him—such gratitude, heartfelt as it was, could be expressed in a few words which, however, came from the heart. Besides, it was not expected from the man of deeds, in which capacity he had just been honoured, that he should be an orator like his predecessor, whose speech it was easier to criticise than to surpass; he had detected one defect. His strength, his courage, his honesty had been praised; those were qualities which, the latter especially, he expected from every man; and he therefore ventured to accept a small portion of the exuberant praise lavished upon him.
“The whole of it!—without deduction—without discount—with interest!” exclaimed the enthusiastic crowd.
“Well, well, gentlemen!” exclaimed Philip, “if you will have it so, the full praise! But, gentlemen, what of the head, the mind and understanding! Perhaps you will say they do not exist—”
“Oh, oh! I will take a hundred thousand shares in you!” shrieked the enthusiastic auditors.
“No, no, gentlemen!” shouted Philip over the heads of the shouters; “where nothing exists, the King himself must lose his rights. I am no Prince and Imperial Chancellor, who has not only his heart, but his head also in the right place.”
Here Philip was compelled to pause, till the storm of applause which his last words had called forth was somewhat abated.
“Yes, gentlemen, I acknowledge it; he is my ideal, but an unattainable one! The qualities that a great man, world-renowned as he is, unites in himself—the most opposite qualities, yet all equally necessary to success—for these we small people must combine. And with me it is no accidental chance, but a dispensation of Providence, and a sure confirmation, that in this moment, without any previous agreement, as you will believe me on my word, the two men who are my associates in business and in every sense of the word, are standing near me; and in this association if I am really the heart, they have unquestionably the department of the head; here to my right, Councillor Schieler—to my left, the banker, Hugo Lübbener.”
Uproarious applause followed, which changed to shouts of laughter, in which even the impartial spectators joined, when the next moment, raised and held fast by the irresistible hands of the half-intoxicated crowd, the two gentlemen named by Philip appeared in person on chairs to his right and left. Philip, with quick presence of mind, seized the hands of both, and cried:
“Here! I have you, I hold you, my two heads who are only one, and who are all in all one with me; one heart and one soul! I was about to call for a cheer for these two, without whom I were nothing; but as we three are one, and cannot with the best wishes for health drink our own healths, I ask you, we ask you for a cheer, a hearty cheer for those whom we have to thank for the satisfaction of being here together this evening, and I think I may say, of enjoying ourselves; the architect of this house and the artists who have decorated it.”
While the company willingly complied with his request, and the band again accompanied them with a shrill flourish of trumpets; while Herr Norberg embraced Philip and assured him that he himself could not have done it better; while the two other gentlemen, who had sprung quickly from their chairs, were overpowered with shaking of hands and congratulations, great excitement reigned in the group of artists. Of course somebody must answer, but who should it be? The historical painter would just as soon have mounted the scaffold; one or two others “could have done it, but it was not in their line;” the architect, as a native of Berlin, freemason, and member of numberless societies, a born and bred orator, did not see why he who had done the most should
