Albert's valet finished tying his cravat and stepped back to let his master view his handiwork in the looking glass.
"Do you think I can capture a heart tonight, Alfonse?" Albert asked his valet.
"Most assuredly, Master. Have you not captured plenty already in Paris?"
"Do not speak of those, Alfonse. They were merely flings. It is flattering the ladies find me entertaining but I wish to find a woman who wants more than a tumble in the sheets—a lover with poetry in her soul."
"Well, I would settle for the sheets, sir. But you are ever the romantic," said his valet, flicking an infinitesimal speck of dust from his master's coat with a silver-handled brush.
At twenty-one the Viscount Albert de Morcerf's lot was enviable. He was handsome, well born, well-heeled and well educated. He had come to Italy to put the finishing touches on that education. Albert was studying the antiquities he had read so much of in the classics and was bent on embarking on his first true love affair. He was not sure quite how to go about this, but presenting himself as well as possible at the opera in Rome seemed like a good start.
The only problem was that his friend and cicerone had gone missing between Florence and Rome. Albert had travelled from Paris with the Baron Franz d'Epinay, who, at twenty-five, was slightly older and more worldly wise than Albert although the Viscount felt he was fast catching up. They had parted temporarily in Florence, agreeing to meet again in Rome for the festival. As the Hotel Londrės was already full months in advance, Franz had taken rooms in a smaller establishment which, he assured Albert, was just as good and more exclusive. But when Albert had arrived, their host, Signore Pastrini had revealed that Baron d'Epinay had yet to appear.
Descending to the foyer Albert passed several servants carrying potted plants and a rolled carpet upstairs before meeting Signor Pastrini on the landing.
"A thousand pardons, your excellency," said the proprietor. "But a very rich gentleman has hired the rest of your floor and has brought some of his own effects with him."
"Indeed, it looks like he has brought his whole house!" joked Albert as he passed.
Arriving in the foyer, Albert debated whether he should wait for his friend and arrive late for the opera or set out alone. His dilemma was solved for him as he descended the front steps—a post-chaise arrived and Franz jumped out, already sporting half his evening dress.
"Forgive me, Albert," he stammered, "I have had the most amazing adventure! Just let me race upstairs to finish my toilette and I will be with you!"
Amused, Albert followed Franz back inside to hear his story while Alfonse worked his magic. They would be a little late for the opera, but now his friend had arrived it didn't matter.
"So what is your story? Were you detained by banditti?"
"No, I went shooting goats and met Ali Baba!"
Albert laughed his charming laugh. "You are pulling my leg!"
Franz grinned at his friend. How beautiful he was and how he loved him!
"No, I am not. But I dare say you will think my story incredible. Yet it is true!"
Carelessly throwing his cloak round his shoulder and jamming his hat on his head, Franz linked arms with Albert and they descended to Albert's carriage.
"So tell me your story," prompted the Viscount once they were seated.
"Well, I hired a barque and went off to Elba to follow in the footsteps of the Emperor. But then I got restless and wanted to do something more active, so on the boat back my guide suggested we put in at the isle of Monte Cristo and hunt the wild goats."
"A-ha! So now you have turned into a big game hunter! How many of the beasts did you slay?"
"Three, but it was poor sport! They were as tame as cats and I felt I had slaughtered someone's pets."
"Ma foi! Cats are not tame! Miss Danglars has one that is truly ferocious! It always seems to commandeer the very seat that I choose to sit upon and spits and snarls at me if I attempt to dislodge it!"
Franz laughed. He knew that Albert was lukewarm about his projected marriage to Miss Danglars, which had been arranged by their respective fathers, friends of long-standing. It would be a mutually beneficial match—for Albert's father was noble but only moderately wealthy, while her father was only created a baron but was tremendously rich.
"Well my guide started a fire to roast the goats, and having killed them I had steadfastly resolved to eat them, when I was saved by an invitation to dinner."
"An invitation to dinner? On the island of Monte Cristo? Is it not just a speck in the ocean? Did you meet another big game hunter?"
"I met...," said Franz, his eyes sparkling, "the most extraordinary man I have ever encountered."
Albert could tell that Franz was deadly serious. "Go on," he encouraged.
"A skiff put in at the island while we were roasting the goat, and leaving me to tend the fire, my guide went off to investigate. He can back declaring they were a band of smugglers and their chief had invited me to dine with them. Well, you can imagine I wasn't exactly eager to break bread with a pack of pirates, but the guide came back with a calling card, no less, printed with the moniker 'Sinbad the Sailor' and on the back, a hand-written invitation in perfect Latin."
"Good grief! Educated smugglers, what next?"
"Well, you can imagine my curiosity was piqued!" said Franz.
"Always a bad thing," replied Albert, smiling and shaking his head.
"There were four of us and four of them, so I asked my guide whether we dared risk it. He was a font of information on the topic. Apparently their chief is famous among brigands up and down the coast. ...that he is considered an honourable man but a dangerous man to cross. ...that he inhabits a cavern on the island to which the Pitti Palace is nothing."
"What nonsense!" laughed Albert, amazed at his friend's naivety.
"It is not nonsense, as I will relate to you. His only condition was that I allow myself to be blindfolded when I entered his domain."
"Oh, you did not submit to that! It is a wonder that your throat was not slit!"
"It does seem a little rash in retrospect, but you see, here I am!"
"So what happened?"
"They blindfolded me, then half-led and half-carried me through some labyrinth for an interminable time—so long that I thought we must have circumnavigated the island! Finally they put me down and when I uncovered my eyes I found myself in the presence of a remarkably handsome man of about forty, dressed in a Tunisian costume—that is to say, a red cap with a long blue silk tassel, a vest of black cloth embroidered with gold, and pantaloons of deep red. He had a splendid cashmere round his waist, and an evil-looking crooked knife passed through his girdle. The thing that really struck me was his pallor, which seemed strangely at odds with the profession of smuggling."
"How bizarre."
"No sooner had that thought entered my head than I looked about me and was awestruck by the splendour of my surroundings. The entire chamber was lined with crimson brocade, worked with flowers of gold. In a recess was a kind of divan, surmounted with a stand of Arabian swords in silver scabbards and the handles covered with gems. From the ceiling hung a lamp of Venetian glass while the floor was covered with a rich Turkey carpet. After they took off my boots, I stepped onto it and sunk to my instep—such was the pile. It was like something from the Arabian nights!"
"Go on," urged Albert.
"The fellow introduced himself, as per his card, as 'Sinbad the Sailor' to which I wryly replied that he might call me 'Aladdin'."
"And what did he have to say to that?"
"Well, at that moment a tapestry covering a door moved aside, and a Nubian, black as ebony, and dressed in a plain white tunic, made a sign to his master that all was prepared in the dining-room. My host bowed to me and gestured towards the door with his hand: 'Well, Aladdin. I hope I can I provide you with a tolerable repast.' "
"It would seem that at least he had a sense of humour."
"The dining-room was scarcely less striking than the room we had just left; it was entirely of marble, with antique bas-reliefs of priceless value; and at the four corners of this apartment, which was oblong, were four magnificent statues, having baskets in their hands. These baskets contained four pyramids of most splendid fruit; there were Sicily pine-apples, pomegranates from Malaga, oranges from the Balearic Isles, peaches from France, and dates from Tunis. The supper consisted of a roast pheasant garnished with Corsican blackbirds; a boar's ham with jelly, a quarter of a kid with tartar sauce, a glorious turbot, and a gigantic lobster. Between these large dishes were smaller ones containing various dainties. The dishes were of silver, and the plates of Japanese china."
"Now, you are just trying to make me jealous," said Albert, who had been dining sparingly for the last few days in preparation for the feasting of the Carnivale.
"Ah! But I have not mentioned the piece de resistance!"
"Which was?"
"Then the Nubian brought the dessert, or rather took the baskets from the hands of the statues and placed them on the table. Between the fruit baskets he placed a small silver cup with a cover. The care with which the servant placed this cup on the table roused my curiosity. When I raised the cover, I saw a kind of greenish paste, something like preserved angelica, and not being able to guess what it was, I enquired.
'That green preserve,' my host said, 'is nothing less than the ambrosia which Hebe served at the table of Jupiter.'
'And what," said I, "is it called in less exalted spheres?' Can you guess, Albert?"
Fascinated, the Viscount shook his head in the negative.
"Hashish!" breathed Franz.
"I think I have heard of it," admitted Albert.
"This is how he described it," said Franz, leaning forward and resting his hand on Albert's knee.
"Are you a man for the substantials, and is gold your god? Taste this, and the mines of Peru, Guzerat, and Golconda are opened to you. Are you a man of imagination—a poet? Taste this, and the boundaries of possibility disappear; the fields of infinite space open to you. You advance free in heart, free in mind, into the boundless realms of unfettered revery. Are you ambitious, and do you seek after the greatnesses of the earth? Taste this, and in an hour you will be a king, not a king of a petty kingdom hidden in some corner of Europe like France, Spain, or England, but king of the world, king of the universe, king of creation; without bowing at the feet of Satan, you will be king and master of all the kingdoms of the earth!"
"And did you take it?"
"First, Sinbad took it. He picked up a tiny teaspoon with a ruby set into the handle, raised it to his lips, and swallowed it slowly with his eyes half shut and his head thrown backwards. Then, he gave the teaspoon to me."
"What did it taste like?"
"Like the devil, or something he might have under his hoof. My host assured me it was an acquired taste. That even if I did not appreciate it immediately, that tomorrow I would want some more. But that wasn't the end of it."
"What happened?"
"Then he took me to yet another room, saying that Ali, for that was the name of the Nubian, would get us some coffee and pipes. This room was round, and a large divan completely encircled it. Divan, walls, ceiling, floor, were all covered with animal skins. There were heavy-maned lion-skins from Atlas, striped tiger-skins from Bengal, panther-skins from the Cape, all strewn in profusion one on the other. He invited me to lay down on the divan and we smoked chibouques with jasmine tubes and amber mouthpieces, which he explained gave the best flavour. While we smoked, he talked of his travels in the east and Ali prepared the coffee. I took the coffee à la Turk, but with plenty of sugar. Soon I felt I could have flown to the east. It was like eagle's wings had sprouted from my shoulders, and with those wings I could make a tour of the world in four and twenty hours. Sinbad said it was the hashish beginning its work.""Then he learnt over and whispered to me: 'Unfurl your wings, and fly into superhuman regions; fear nothing, there is a watch over you; and if your wings, like those of Icarus, melt before the sun, we are here to ease your fall.' "
Albert's eyes had become quite round. "What happened then?"
"Then, I became unbearably light so that I thought I might float up to the ceiling, and the three statues that had been holding the fruit in the other room walked in, and leaning over me, began to kiss and caress me."
"And then?"
"I can't remember. I woke up the next morning in a bare cave on a bed of fresh heather."
You'll find the accompanying pictures on the Nemesis Pinterest board. Just google "fredward1800 Pinterest" and follow any link back to my home page to find it.
This monkey works for peanuts. If I get ten reviews I will continue.