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272
THORSENG.
Chap. XLVIII.
his father had to get him appointed.* There he is;
most ecclesiastical too he looks—as like a bishop as the
Duke of York did of Osnaburg—à cheval, armed
cap-à-pie, distinguished alone from his brethren by the starched
plaited ruff of the Lutheran clergy. His duties cannot
have been onerous, though to me the wearing of the frill
would have been worse than all the penances and
fastings of the Romish Church. We mount the staircase ;
on the landing-place hang all the family of the fourth
Christian—heavy, drunken Prince Christian, who made
way for his brother the bishop and his wife Madalena of
Saxony, she with feather-fan in hand and lapdog by her
side ; Prince Valdemar, the possessor, though he never
resided there, a fine boy—a child to be proud of, as
indeed all Christian’s were. And those fair ladies with
golden powdered hair, high ruffs, and somewhat
uncovered, looking-glasses and pearls. Who be they ?
“ Those,” replied the conductress, “ are the twelve
frilles of King Christian.” Powers above! twelve!
Lump together all the demi-monde of that immoral court
—all the Kirstens, Karens, Vibekes—you can never
number twelve; but they are very pretty women, much
superior to the portraits of Rosenborg. I must take
the liberty of vindicating three from this sweeping
verdict: those three exquisite creatures who hang below
belong to another period, somewhat later, and are, if I
mistake not, authentic copies of some of our English
beauties of Hampton Court. One I imagine to be the
Princess of Orange, Mary Stuart, daughter of Charles I.
—she was good at any rate ; a second, highly rouged, not
* The best portrait of Frederic in. is that by "Wuchter, with
Kronborg in the background, engraved by Haelwech, gone the way of all
Danish pictures—burnt in some conflagration.
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