Page 77
Story: The Cabinet of Dr. Leng
“How curious,” said the duchess. “Our lives are linked. My ‘father,’ Pope Alexander VI, ordered you burned at the stake.”
“What a charming coincidence,Lucrezia,” said Leng. He paused and gave a little bow. “May I ask for the honor of your presence at the next dance?”
She curtsied. “You may.”
He held out his arm and she took it. He felt her light touch as he led her into the grand ballroom, ablaze in light, where the small orchestra was playing what he recognized as a Valse-Caprice by Gabriel Fauré, a young French composer Leng found particularly entrancing. He was again struck by the originality and brilliance of the ball’s organization. As a second Valse-Caprice began, Leng took the young duchess in his arms.
“Duchess, I’m most intrigued by who conceived this ball,” he said, as he turned her about the floor. “Surely not the Cabot-Flints?”
“Well,” she said, “I had a small hand in it.”
“It is most original. My compliments.” Leng digested this remarkable bit of information. Whowasthis duchess? There must be a great deal of gossip going around about her, but not being connected in these social circles, he had not heard it.
He would have to look into all that.
“I’m curious about your father, the duke,” he said. “What sort of chemical research did he do?”
“He had eccentric ideas and interests—chemically, that is.”
She seemed reluctant to discuss it. “I myself am interested in chemistry,” he said, “specifically what Berzelius termed ‘organic chemistry,’ the study of compounds derived from biological sources.”
“How curious! So was my father.”
But still she did not explain further.
The waltz ended and they came to a rest, separating and lowering their arms. The flush of activity had pinked the duchess’s cheeks.
“May I have the honor of the next one?” Leng asked.
“You may.”
To Leng’s surprise, a Dvorák string quartet began to play. It was hardly dance music, being slow and of atempo rubatonature, and Leng could see many of the dancing partners around them puzzled as to how to follow it. But not the duchess, who stepped up to him, ready to be turned about the floor again. And encouraging everyone to dance to this ultramodern music came the La Scala dancers, weaving among those on the ballroom floor in their scantily clad state. He found the rhythm of the piece and began to lead.
“And your father’s cabinet of curiosities,” asked Leng, “what did it consist of?”
“It was also of a chemical nature. Quite esoteric. Bottles and bottles, all of different colors. He collected organic compounds from insects, flowers, roots and leaves, inner organs of beasts and fowls, glands of snakes and spiders and toads, that sort of thing.” She hesitated. “His primary focus was on the biological activity of poisons.”
At this, Leng almost lost the rhythm of the dance. He quickly recovered. “Ah. Perhaps that explains your interest in Lucrezia Borgia?”
“I’ve long felt that poor Lucrezia was a woman surrounded by cruel and overbearing men. With that little hollow ring of hers, she took power back from them and quite literally put it into her own hands, to be administered as needed.”
“One could look at it that way,” said Leng, amused. “And this cabinet of your father’s—may I ask where it is now?”
“At the bottom of the Atlantic, alas. But I still have his papers and formulae.”
Leng had to bite his tongue to stop himself from further questions.Doucement, he said to himself.Doucement.
“And what gave you the idea of coming as Savonarola?” she asked.
“I confess I’m attracted to his dark view of mankind. I should love to have witnessed his bonfire of the vanities—what a horrifying spectacle that must have been.”
“You might say this ball itself is a sort of bonfire of the vanities, wouldn’t you agree, Doctor?”
“I would indeed, Your Grace,” said Leng, struck anew by the acuteness of her observations.
The quartet came to its coda, the dancing ended, and they separated again. Leng was tempted to ask for the next dance as well, but another, he knew, would be a violation of etiquette. He was not done with the duchess, however; no, indeed. This ball was not, however, the place and time to continue such an interesting conversation.
“I’m afraid, Your Grace,” he said, “that I have another engagement. But I hope our acquaintance is just beginning. I wonder if I could ask you to luncheon, at your convenience?”
“What a charming coincidence,Lucrezia,” said Leng. He paused and gave a little bow. “May I ask for the honor of your presence at the next dance?”
She curtsied. “You may.”
He held out his arm and she took it. He felt her light touch as he led her into the grand ballroom, ablaze in light, where the small orchestra was playing what he recognized as a Valse-Caprice by Gabriel Fauré, a young French composer Leng found particularly entrancing. He was again struck by the originality and brilliance of the ball’s organization. As a second Valse-Caprice began, Leng took the young duchess in his arms.
“Duchess, I’m most intrigued by who conceived this ball,” he said, as he turned her about the floor. “Surely not the Cabot-Flints?”
“Well,” she said, “I had a small hand in it.”
“It is most original. My compliments.” Leng digested this remarkable bit of information. Whowasthis duchess? There must be a great deal of gossip going around about her, but not being connected in these social circles, he had not heard it.
He would have to look into all that.
“I’m curious about your father, the duke,” he said. “What sort of chemical research did he do?”
“He had eccentric ideas and interests—chemically, that is.”
She seemed reluctant to discuss it. “I myself am interested in chemistry,” he said, “specifically what Berzelius termed ‘organic chemistry,’ the study of compounds derived from biological sources.”
“How curious! So was my father.”
But still she did not explain further.
The waltz ended and they came to a rest, separating and lowering their arms. The flush of activity had pinked the duchess’s cheeks.
“May I have the honor of the next one?” Leng asked.
“You may.”
To Leng’s surprise, a Dvorák string quartet began to play. It was hardly dance music, being slow and of atempo rubatonature, and Leng could see many of the dancing partners around them puzzled as to how to follow it. But not the duchess, who stepped up to him, ready to be turned about the floor again. And encouraging everyone to dance to this ultramodern music came the La Scala dancers, weaving among those on the ballroom floor in their scantily clad state. He found the rhythm of the piece and began to lead.
“And your father’s cabinet of curiosities,” asked Leng, “what did it consist of?”
“It was also of a chemical nature. Quite esoteric. Bottles and bottles, all of different colors. He collected organic compounds from insects, flowers, roots and leaves, inner organs of beasts and fowls, glands of snakes and spiders and toads, that sort of thing.” She hesitated. “His primary focus was on the biological activity of poisons.”
At this, Leng almost lost the rhythm of the dance. He quickly recovered. “Ah. Perhaps that explains your interest in Lucrezia Borgia?”
“I’ve long felt that poor Lucrezia was a woman surrounded by cruel and overbearing men. With that little hollow ring of hers, she took power back from them and quite literally put it into her own hands, to be administered as needed.”
“One could look at it that way,” said Leng, amused. “And this cabinet of your father’s—may I ask where it is now?”
“At the bottom of the Atlantic, alas. But I still have his papers and formulae.”
Leng had to bite his tongue to stop himself from further questions.Doucement, he said to himself.Doucement.
“And what gave you the idea of coming as Savonarola?” she asked.
“I confess I’m attracted to his dark view of mankind. I should love to have witnessed his bonfire of the vanities—what a horrifying spectacle that must have been.”
“You might say this ball itself is a sort of bonfire of the vanities, wouldn’t you agree, Doctor?”
“I would indeed, Your Grace,” said Leng, struck anew by the acuteness of her observations.
The quartet came to its coda, the dancing ended, and they separated again. Leng was tempted to ask for the next dance as well, but another, he knew, would be a violation of etiquette. He was not done with the duchess, however; no, indeed. This ball was not, however, the place and time to continue such an interesting conversation.
“I’m afraid, Your Grace,” he said, “that I have another engagement. But I hope our acquaintance is just beginning. I wonder if I could ask you to luncheon, at your convenience?”
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