When Thomas pronounces the world “alchemy,” he does it as if a small, round loaf of bread were emerging from his mouth, still warm.
He is given the last room at the end of the corridor, next to Jacob’s chambers, for his studio. Jacob has ordered a special apparatus from Italy through Marshal Pallavicini, whom he met at the imperial court. This machinery, consisting of burners and retorts, glass tubes and jars, is set up carefully upon tables and shelves made expressly for this purpose, so that on Christmas the fires under the retorts can be lit with the first Hanukkah candles. Whenever he is in the country, Thomas von Sch?nfeld comes straight here. He has already fathered three children, and he is always in his snow-white wig and elegant outfit. He brings enormous quantities of presents, for every one of the brothers and every one of the sisters.
He and Jacob almost never leave the studio at such times, and they admit no one else but Matuszewski and an intimate of Thomas’s, the Count Ecker und Eckhofen, who danced so beautifully with Eva at the emperor’s. It is now universally known that he is not interested in women, though this does not interfere with him knowing the “work.” Unfortunately, they are unable to produce a single piece of gold or even silver by March. In the innumerable vessels and jars, all that appears from time to time are stinking liquids and every possible type of ash.
Jacob dreams that the Countess Salm, whom he met at court and who shows him special consideration, advises him that for the neck pain that has been bothering him a great deal lately he must “take a dose of Moravia.” This must mean that soon help will come in the form of gold. That would be particularly welcome, since the court’s debts have soared to unimaginable heights, despite Thomas’s speculation. Or maybe even because of his speculation. For he has persuaded Jacob, and above all the Zwierzchowskis and the Czerniawskis, to invest in the stock market. And though in the beginning they did make enough to pay off their debts, soon their run of good luck turned. That was how the idea of alchemy came about.
Now Thomas comes up with an even more exquisite concept—they start to bottle a transparent, fragrant liquid with a yellowish tinge, the derivative of a certain weak acid. Diluted properly, it does no damage to the skin. A drop of it consumed with a cup of water cures all diseases, claims Thomas. Jacob tried it out on himself, having suffered from rectal bleeding, and was completely healed come summer.
The first boxes of tiny bottles of this miraculous liquid go to kahalim of true believers in Prossnitz, and once they’ve caused a sensation there, Wo?owski takes them to Warsaw. In the summer, a little factory is created in the room next to the alchemy lab, and there the women put small decorative labels on the bottles, then place them in the boxes that will travel to Altona.
Unfortunately, even these “golden drops,” as they are called, do not cover all their debts.
How the Lord’s dreams see the world
The winter does not bring anything good. It is cold in the palace on Petersburger Gasse, and the Lord is always sick and moping, while Her Ladyship barely ever leaves her rooms. Suddenly, as though cut off by a knife, their expeditions to Vienna have concluded. One of their carriages has been sold, while the other, a small, elegant coach, is still kept in the coach house, on the off chance that the emperor might ever want Eva back. In order to be able to pay what they owe to their purveyors, they have also had to sell their valuable dinner service. It went for a song to Pallavicini. Quite a few people have been sent home, and it is quiet in the palace now. The stoves are kept on only in the bedrooms, and there is the fireplace in the large hall. That is why the majority of those who remain at court spend the majority of their days in there.
Early in the morning, before they even have breakfast, the faithful go down to listen to the Lord’s words. The Lord comes in when all of them have assembled, and how he is dressed is important. The women have noticed that when he is wearing a white shirt, that means he will be in a bad mood that day, and a number of people will get scolded. If, on the other hand, he has put on a red robe, it means his mood is good.
The Lord narrates his dream, and it is written down by young Czerniawski or Matuszewski. When Jakubowski is in Brünn, he takes notes, too. Eva tells them her dream, and they write that down, too. Then these dreams are widely discussed and commented on. They have also established a custom by which the others, too, can tell their dreams, and in this way comment upon the dreams of the Lord and Her Ladyship. This produces extraordinary coincidences, some of which can be discussed for days on end. The narration of dreams can, at times, last into the afternoon of the following day, so that Zwierzchowska has to make a small breakfast available.
The corridors and staircases get swept up in a penetrating chill, and the tiny claws of the icy snow scratch at the windowpanes; the wind strains in the chimneys. You can almost feel the other worlds all pressing in on the home in Brünn, worlds where no one is who he is, but rather someone else entirely, and everything that seems stable and sure loses its contours and all the certainty of its own existence.
The Lord is at the court of the Prussian king Frederick, and he serves him the best wine, but before he pours the wine, he sprinkles sand into the glass, and then he mixes the wine in with the sand. The emperor drinks this with relish. Then he gives the princes and the kings who are there the same thing by way of beverage.
It is strange how a dream like this can make itself at home in the world of day, and then all of them can see this image of a goblet with sand and wine, and even as they are eating in the evening and drinking wine, the image of sand being sprinkled returns to them, which causes some of them, especially the women, since they seem to dream more, or at least to remember more, to say that on the following night they also drank sand or gave sand to others to drink, and so there arises this possibility of transmutation that will be with them now—transmuting sand into wine. Transmuting wine into sand.
The Lord appeared in the dream of Rabbi Symeon, father of Jacob Szymanowski, and he told him that an heiress from Wojs?awice was waiting for him. And she appeared to him as a beautiful young woman, all in white. The Lord told Symeon: Yet she is old, ugly, and always dressed in black. Symeon replied: Pay no mind to that, that is just a shadow. She has great wealth and wants to give it all to you. The Lord was still young and plump in this dream, and the heiress from Wojs?awice caressed him and bared her breasts to him and wished to have intercourse with him, but the Lord did not wish to and defended himself against it.