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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

"Historical Miniatures"

Each guest had a
bench behind him, on which to sleep off his intoxication, besides
two tubs, one for food and one for ... you understand?'"
"No, that is too absurd!"
"Such are the stories they like to tell in Petersburg. Have you not
heard that I also extract teeth? In my palace, they say, there is a
sack full of them. And then I am said to perform operations in
hospital. Once I drew off so much water from a dropsical woman that
she died."
"Do the people believe that?"
"Certainly they do. They are so stupid, you see; but I will cut off
their asses' ears and singe their tongues...."
His eyes began to sparkle, and it was plain what direction his
thoughts were taking. But however confidential he might be, there
always seemed to be secret checks at work, so that, even when
intoxicated, he always kept his great secrets though he told
unimportant ones.
Just then an adjutant came in, and whispered something to the Czar.
"Exactly at five o'clock," answered the Czar in a loud voice. "Sixty
grenadiers, with loaded guns and cutlasses! Adieu! Jaen," continued
the Czar, giving a sudden turn to his thoughts, "I will buy your
loom, but I will not give more than fifty roubles for it."
"Sixty, sixty."
"You Satan of a Dutchman! You skinflint! If I offer fifty, that is
an honour for you! Indeed it is!"
The Czar's anger rose, but it was connected with the adjutant's
message, not with the loom.


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