soothed down, and I shall be able, without fearing any harm
either from Republicans or Orangists, to keep as heretofore
my borders in splendid condition. I need no more be afraid
lest on the day of a riot the shopkeepers of the town and
the sailors of the port should come and tear out my bulbs,
to boil them as onions for their families, as they have
sometimes quietly threatened when they happened to remember
my having paid two or three hundred guilders for one bulb.
It is
therefore settled I shall give the hundred thousand
guilders of the Haarlem prize to-the poor. And yet ---- "
Here Cornelius stopped and heaved a sigh. "And yet," he
continued, "it would have been so very
delightful to spend
the hundred thousand guilders on the enlargement of my
tulip-bed or even on a journey to the East, the country of
beautiful flowers. But, alas! these are no thoughts for the
present times, when muskets, standards, proclamations, and
beating of drums are the order of the day."
Van Baerle raised his eyes to heaven and sighed again. Then
turning his glance towards his bulbs, -- objects of much
greater
importance to him than all those muskets, standards,
drums, and proclamations, which he conceived only to be fit
to
disturb the minds of honest people, -- he said: --
"These are, indeed, beautiful bulbs; how smooth they are,
how well formed; there is that air of
melancholy about them
which promises to produce a flower of the colour of ebony.
On their skin you cannot even
distinguish the circulating
veins with the naked eye. Certainly, certainly, not a light
spot will
disfigure the tulip which I have called into
existence. And by what name shall we call this offspring of
my
sleepless nights, of my labour and my thought? Tulipa
nigra Barlaensis?
"Yes Barlaensis: a fine name. All the tulip-fanciers -- that
is to say, all the
intelligent people of Europe -- will feel
a
thrill of
excitement when the rumour spreads to the four
quarters of the globe: The grand black tulip is found! 'How
is it called?' the fanciers will ask. -- 'Tulipa nigra
Barlaensis!' -- 'Why Barlaensis?' -- 'After its
grower, Van
Baerle,' will be the answer. -- 'And who is this Van
Baerle?' -- 'It is the same who has already produced five
new tulips: the Jane, the John de Witt, the Cornelius de
Witt, etc.' Well, that is what I call my
ambition. It will
cause tears to no one. And people will talk of my Tulipa
nigra Barlaensis when perhaps my godfather, this sublime
politician, is only known from the tulip to which I have
given his name.
"Oh! these
darling bulbs!
"When my tulip has flowered," Baerle continued in his
soliloquy, "and when tranquillity is restored in Holland, I
shall give to the poor only fifty thousand guilders, which,
after all, is a
goodly sum for a man who is under no
obligation
whatever. Then, with the remaining fifty thousand
guilders, I shall make experiments. With them I shall
succeed in imparting scent to the tulip. Ah! if I succeed in
giving it the odour of the rose or the carnation, or, what
would be still better, a completely new scent; if I restored
to this queen of flowers its natural
distinctive perfume,
which she has lost in passing from her Eastern to her
European
throne, and which she must have in the Indian
peninsula at Goa, Bombay, and Madras, and especially in that
island which in olden times, as is asserted, was the
terrestrial
paradise, and which is called Ceylon, -- oh,
what glory! I must say, I would then rather be Cornelius van
Baerle than Alexander, Caesar, or Maximilian.
"Oh the
admirable bulbs!"
Thus Cornelius indulged in the delights of contemplation,
and was carried away by the sweetest dreams.
Suddenly the bell of his
cabinet was rung much more
violently than usual.
Cornelius, startled, laid his hands on his bulbs, and turned
round.
"Who is here?" he asked.
"Sir," answered the servant, "it is a
messenger from the
Hague."
"A
messenger from the Hague! What does he want?"