wonder at it, for I have often noticed that few
people are offended at young girls, especially
when they are trim and pretty.

Our gaiety affected old and young. There
was no end to the demand for bouquets, and
though many asked who had no right to them,
we supplied all with a good grace. The huge
pyramid of flowers soon disappeared, and as
we had not nearly store enough of gold and
silver pins, so we were obliged to have recourse
to common ones; but as we gave them they
were received with pleasure. Very soon the
room came to look like a garden in full
bloom.

At last the folding doors were thrown wide
open, and Barbara, supported by two ladies,
made her appearance. She was all tears, and
advanced with trembling steps, striving all
the while to restrain the sobs that shook her
bosom. The Starost, with a compassionate
look, advanced to meet her, took her by the
hand, and led her before our parents. They
knelt down and received their blessing.
Then they rose and walked round the room,
each person wishing them happiness. Then
all the company proceeded to the castle
chapel. The Abbé Vincent stood before the
altar. The counsellor Borch, the representative
of the king, and Kochanowksi that of the
Duke of Courland, each offered a hand to
Barbara, and the Starost gave his to
Mademoiselle Malahowska and to me. My parents,
the rest of our family, and all the guests,
walked after us two by two. Nothing was
heard but the rustling of silk dresses. An
immense number of wax candles burnt on
and around the altar; a rich cloth of gold
and silver tissue covered the steps; and
two knee-cushions in crimson velvet, on which
were embroidered our arms, and those of the
Swidzinskis, stood ready for the use of
bride and bridegroom. They knelt down on
them, and the bridesmaids and the groomsmen
stood right and left of the altar. I held
a golden plate, on which were the two
wedding rings. My father and mother stood up
behind Barbara, and the Palatine behind
his son.

Then, the Veni Creator resounded through
the chapel, the Abbé Vincent pronounced a
long discourse, almost wholly in Latin, and
the marriage service really began.
Notwithstanding Barbara's tears and sobs, she made
the responses well enough. After exchanging
rings the newly married people once more
threw themselves at the feet of my parents,
and received their blessing. At this moment,
at a signal from the master of the ceremonies,
the Italian vocalists, who had been sent for
expressly from Warsaw, began singing,
accompanied by the music of the band. Outside the
chapel our dragoons kept up a continual
discharge of musketry, and at intervals fired off
the cannon. When at last this noise ceased,
and it was possible to be heard, my father
made a sagacious speech, by which Barbara
was so utterly overcome that she was quite
incapable of making any reply, and again
threw herself at her parents' feet. They
tenderly raised her; compliments and
felicitations poured in from all sides, and in
the midst of the full stream of them we
marched back to the drawing-room. Soon
afterwards dinner was announced, and we
adjourned to the great dining hall. The tables
were arranged in the form of the letter B;
the service was magnificent. In the centre
was an edifice of sugar, four feet high, which
had cost the confectioner a fortnight's labour
to prepare. It represented the temple of
Hymen, adorned with allegorical figures, and
surmounted by the arms of the Krasinskis and
the Swidzinskis, surrounded by a wreath of
inscriptions in French. There were many
other beautiful things, such as china figures,
and gold and silver baskets; for, in fact, the
table was so covered, that our dwarf Peter
could not have found a place on it for one of
his feet, much less have walked about between
the dishes, as he does sometimes by my
father's wish.

It was impossible for me to reckon up the
feast, and I fancy the cellarer must have
missed count of the bottles of wine that he
sent up. I only know that there was a tun
of Hungarian wine emptied during the dinner.
It was called Mademoiselle Barbara's wine;
for, in accordance with an ancient custom,
my father had bought it on the day of her
birth, intending it to be drunk at her wedding.
Toasts succeeded each other with scarcely any
intermission. They drank to the newly-married
pair, to the state, to the king, to the
Duke of Courland, to the prince primate,
to the clergy, to the host and hostess, and to
the ladies. After each toast the glasses were
broken, a cannon was fired, and a blast was
blown on a trumpet. When the dessert was
ended, all this noise was succeeded by the
greatest stillness, and we had an idea that my
father was about to give the signal for rising
from table: we were quite mistaken. He
called for the master of the household, to
whom he gave some order in a low voice;
upon which he left the room, and soon
returned, bringing with him a little black
morocco box, that I had never seen. My
father opened it, and took out a golden cup
in the form of a crow, studded with precious
stones. He showed it to the company, and
told them it had descended to him, through
a long line of ancestors, and that he had never
touched it since his wedding-day. The cellarer
then handed him a large bottle, covered with
dust; and my father informed us, with an
air of pride, that the wine in it was a hundred
years old. He emptied the contents of the
bottle into the cup, and, as the cup was larger
than the bottle, added some of the same wine
from another flask, then emptied his goblet at
one draught, to the health and prosperity of
bride and bridegroom.

This toast was received with enthusiasm.
Music became louder than ever, and the