The two staircases with their steep steps will pose a challenge to Jacob Frank—he has a hard time walking now. The long journey to Offenbach through wintry Germany caused him to come down with a cold. In Meissen, where they stayed for a few days, he had an attack of fever, was delirious and insisted again that they were trying to poison him with communion wafers. He recovered a little after visiting the manufactory and viewing all its porcelain.
Now, oblivious to the renovations, uninterested in wallpapers and upholstery, he spends whole days dictating letters that messengers deliver to Poland, to Moravia, to Bucharest—anywhere there are true believers. He also summons all the elder brothers here. The first to arrive in the summer are Jakubowski with Jan Wo?owski, and shortly after that they bring in the ?ab?ckis’ children, as well as the Lanckorońskis’, as well as the “Turkesses,” as they call the true believers of Wallachia. The house in Oberrad cannot fit them all, so, while the castle is still being renovated, they must also rent rooms in Offenbach, in those cozy, well-cared-for houses with their slate-covered walls.
Jacob is visibly revived by the visits he receives from Thomas, who comes to Offenbach during his frequent business trips to Frankfurt. Twice they have gone out together to the river, where Thomas has introduced his uncle to bankers and helped him secure yet more lines of credit.
Normally, however, they sit and talk. Now Jacob spontaneously orders his coffee served in the castle portico, where he can warm himself in the patches of sun, although what he really wants is no doubt for Thomas to be able to watch the handsome man in the elegant white uniform who is running the drills in the castle courtyard.
“That’s Prince Lubomirski,” says Jacob.
For a moment, Thomas says nothing, stunned, or maybe he doesn’t quite believe his uncle.
“Where could such a person have come from, all the way here? A real prince?”
Jacob tells the story with pleasure, enjoying his coffee. The coffee is imported from Turkey, and it makes a sensation in Offenbach. One of the true believers has already opened a small coffee shop in town, and sitting in it instantly became fashionable.
Jacob says that Lubomirski is bankrupt, and in order to avoid being imprisoned for his debts, he had to flee Poland. In Warsaw, he met the lovely Tekla ?ab?cka, the orphaned daughter of Moshe ?ab?cki, and, having fallen in love with her, followed her all the way here. Jacob gave him employment, appointing him commander-in-chief of the guard. The prince even helped design its uniforms, making use of his great knowledge of such matters.
Thomas laughs.
“So those gaudy uniforms were Lubomirski’s notion?”
Jacob is offended by this supposition. The idea for the uniforms was his: amaranth breeches and cerulean jackets with gold aiguillettes. The halberdiers, meanwhile, wear azure on one side and crimson on the other.
Of boiled eggs and Prince Lubomirski
The castle, which has not been heated in years, is covered in a mycelium of frost and every variety of chill; the walls are cold and damp, the fireplaces and stoves are lazy, slow to start. They do heat up well, but as soon as the last log has burned, the fireplace cools down again immediately. And so their silhouettes round out—from the several layers of clothing they all wear, one on top of the other. The cold here is different, foreign—it clings to the skin, keeps hands and feet in a state of constant numbness; it is hard to make a needle go into an embroidery hoop, hard to turn the pages of a book. In winter, life takes place in one room on the first floor, the largest one, next to the fireplace and the glowing Turkish stoves arranged around the edges, which causes the clothes to absorb the particular smell of that damp smoke.
“It smells like it used to in Ivanie,” says the Lord when he walks in.
This is also where they eat all of their meals. They sit at a long table that is placed as close as possible to the fireplace. On their beautiful tableware, they are served almost exclusively boiled eggs.
“You’ve turned into an old maid already. Not even Lubomirski wanted you, even though you asked him to come to tea,” Jacob says suddenly to his daughter as they are all having breakfast.
This is how his bad moods usually start—Jacob has to lay into someone.
Eva flushes crimson. His comment has been heard by Matuszewski, both her brothers, Anusia Paw?owska, Eva Jezierzańska, and—and this is truly awful—Thomas. Eva sets down her silverware and leaves the room.
“But he’s here for Tekla ?ab?cka,” says Eva Jezierzańska in a conciliatory tone, serving Jacob some more horseradish. “He’s like a big dog when it comes to women, you have to watch out for him. Tekla resisted him, but that just attracts him to her more.”
“She didn’t resist him long,” says Matuszewski with his mouth full, pleased that the subject has successfully been changed.
Jacob is quiet for a little while. Lately he has been living off boiled or baked eggs. He says his stomach won’t digest anything else now.
“He’s a Polish prince . . . ,” says Jacob.
“Maybe so, but his honor and his finances are finished,” Czerniawski says quietly. “He has no money, and no respect. He had to escape here from Poland because his creditors were after him. It’s a good thing he comes in handy as a stableman . . .”
“He is the general of the palace guard,” Matuszewski corrects him.
“But he’s a prince,” says Jacob, exasperated. “Go after her,” he says to Zwierzchowska.
But Zwierzchowska has no intention of getting up.
“She won’t come back. You offended her.” And after a slight pause, she adds, “Lord.”
A silence falls on the table. Jacob cannot control his rage, his lower lip trembles. Only now can it be seen with perfect clarity that the left side of his face has flagged, drooped down slightly, since his last apoplexy in Brünn.
After a moment’s silence he says, “I have taken all illness upon myself.” He begins quietly, then gathers volume. “Look at who you are, and that is without listening to me at all and caring nothing for my words. I led you here, and if you had just listened to me from the very beginning, then you would have gotten even further. You can’t even perceive it. You would be sleeping on swan’s down, on chests full of gold, in royal palaces. Who among you has ever truly believed in me? You are all fools. I’ve been struggling over you in vain. You’ve learned nothing, all you do is watch me, but you don’t think about how I feel or how I’m hurting.”
He shoves his plate away violently. Shelled eggs fall onto the floor.
“Get out. You, Eva, stay,” he says to Jezierzańska.
When the others have left, she leans over him and straightens his thin wool stock tie.
“It’s scratching me,” Jacob complains.
“It’s meant to scratch you, that’s how it keeps you warm.”
“You were always good to me, the kindest after my sweet Hana.”
Jezierzańska tries to extricate herself, but Jacob has caught her by the hand and is pulling her closer.
“Draw the curtains,” he says.