Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Mamsell Marie
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
the sledge? Ah, it was actually she herself, Märta
Dohna, the celebrated Countess!
She was the gayest and maddest of women. A
pleasure-loving world had placed her on a throne
and crowned her its queen. Play and Laughter were
her subjects, and in the lottery of life she had drawn
music, dancing, and adventure.
Though now close on to fifty, she was one of the
wise, who do not count the years. “He who cannot
lift his foot to dance,” she said, “nor open his
mouth to laughter, he is old; he feels the atrocious
burden of years, but not I.”
King Pleasure did not reign undisturbed in the
days of her youth, but change and uncertainty only
increased the delight of his charming presence. His
Majesty of the butterfly wings had tea one day in
the rooms of the ladies-in-waiting at the palace in
Stockholm, and danced the next in Paris. He visited
Napoleon’s camps, sailed the blue Mediterranean
with Nelson’s fleet, attended a congress in Vienna,
and risked going to Brussels on the eve of a famous
battle to attend a ball.
And where King Pleasure was, there too was
Märta Dohna, his chosen queen. Dancing, playing,
jesting, Countess Märta flitted the whole world
round. What had she not seen, what lived! She
had danced thrones down, played écarté for
principalities, caused devastating wars with her banter.
Merriment and folly had been her life, and would
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
