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PARTISAN REVIEW
prison the King in the King, we must shut up the King in the
King.... "
Indeed, only the terrorizing of the King through the pressure of
splendor, history, brilliance, and ceremony multiplied to extremes
could still save the Crown from being compromised . The Chancellor
made a recommendation in the same vein and thus the banquet that
took place the next day in the Hall of Mirrors glittered with all possi–
ble splendors-from splendor it passed into splendor, from brilliance
into brilliance, from glory into glory, as if it were tolling bells hung
in the highest and seemingly unearthly circles and regions of
brilliance.
The Archduchess Renata , escorted into the hall by the great
Master of Ceremonies and the Marshall of the Court, squinted her
eyes, awed by the stately and ageless luminescence of this archban–
quet. With discreet power, the ancient historic families moved past
into the sacerdotal radiance of the clergy, which itself moved past as
if intoxicated into the whiteness of worthy and withering de–
colletages, and these wanly drowned in the epaulettes of generals
and the sashes of ambassadors-and the mirrors repeated this splen–
dor on into infinity. The murmur of conversations sank into the
smell of perfumes. When King Gnulo entered the hall and blinked,
blinded by its radiance, a loud cry of salutation immediately caught
him up as if in a pair of pincers, and the bow of those gathered there
did not allow him to escape his cry . . . and the aisle created by this
bow forced him to advance towards the Archduchess, who, tearing
the lace of her garment to shreds, did not want to believe her eyes.
Was the King and her future spouse this vulgar shopkeeper with the
mug of a simple clerk and the shrewd look of a petty-minded fruit
vendor and a small-time blackmailer? But-oh wonder-was this
shopkeeper the magnificant King who neared her along an aisle of
bowed subjects? When the King took her by the hand, she trembled
with disgust, but at the same moment the thunder of cannon and the
ringing of bells drew a sigh of rapture from her breast. The
Chancellor gave a sigh of relief, which was increased and multiplied
by the sigh of the Council".
Resting his royal, holy, and metaphysical hand on the head of
his sword, the King gave his other hand, omnipotent and sanctify–
ing, to the Archduchess Renata and led her to the banquet table .
The guests led their ladies after him with a rustling of feet and a
shimmering of epaulettes and aigrettes.
But what was that? Did some quiet, trifling, tiny, hardly audi-
