dress and eat and sleep ... and after that the same again:
dress ... and eat ... and sleep....

2

Three carriages, with postillions, bring Othomar, Herman and the others
along the broad, winding, switchback road to Castel Vaza. It is five
o'clock in the afternoon; the weather is mild and sunny, but not warm: a
fresh breeze is blowing. The landscape is wide and noble; with each turn
of the road come changes in the panorama of snow-clad mountains. The
country is luxuriantly beautiful. The little villages through which they
drive look prosperous: they are the duke's property. Between Vaza and
the castle the land has been spared by the water: the overflowing of the
Zanthos has inundated rather the eastern district. It is difficult here
to think constantly of that dreadful flood and of the condition of
Lipara yonder, which the emperor has proclaimed in state of siege. It is
so beautiful here, so full of spring life; and the sunset after a fine,
summery day is here devoid of sadness. The chestnut-trees waft their
fresh green fans; and the sky is still like mother-of-pearl, though a
dust of twilight is beginning to hover over it. A lively conversation is
in progress between the princes, Ducardi and Von Fest, who sit in the
first carriage: they talk with animation, laugh and are amused because
the villagers sometimes, of course, salute them, as visitors to the
castle, with a touch of the cap or a kindly nod, but do not know who
they are. Prince Herman nods to a handsome young peasant-girl, who stays
staring after them open-mouthed, and recalls the delightful big-game
hunt last year when he was the duke's guest, together with the emperor
and Othomar. They did not see the duchess that time: she was unwell....
General Ducardi tells anecdotes about the war of fifteen years ago.

And they all find some difficulty in fixing their faces in official
folds when they drive through the old, escutcheoned gate over the
lowered drawbridge into the long carriage-drive and are received by the
chamberlain in the inner courtyard of the castle. This is prescribed by
etiquette. The duchess must not show herself before the chamberlain,
surrounded by the duke's whole household, has bidden the Duke of Xara
welcome in the name of his absent master and offered the crown-prince a
telegram from Lipara, which the steward hands him on a silver tray. This
telegram is from the Duke of Yemena; it says that his service and that
of his son, the Marquis o