The Royal Physician's Visit by Per Olov Enquist

Author:Per Olov Enquist [Enquist, Per Olov]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Tags: 18th Century, Royalty, Medicine, Germany, Denmark, Fiction - Historical
ISBN: 1585671967
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2001-10-29T07:00:00+00:00

They were circling around each other, with the circles becoming smaller and smaller. They were moving toward each other.

The relationship between Queen Caroline Mathilde and the Royal Physician Struensee was becoming more intense.

They often went walking in the woods.

In the woods they could converse, in the woods the attendants following them might suddenly lag behind; the Queen found it amusing to walk in the woods with Struensee.

It was a beech forest.

Struensee talked about the importance of strengthening the limbs of the little Crown Prince through physical exercises; the boy was now two years old. The Queen talked about horses. Struensee stressed the importance of the little boy learning to play like ordinary children. She spoke of the sea and the swans on the water's surface that was like quicksilver. He thought the little boy should learn all the details of statesmanship; the Queen asked him again whether trees could think.

He answered: Only in situations of utmost danger. She replied: Only when the tree was supremely happy could it think.

When they walked through the woods where there was thick shrubbery, the attendants often could not keep up. She liked walking in the woods. She believed that beech trees could love. She found quite natural the idea that trees could dream. All one had to do was observe a forest at dusk to be convinced.

He asked her whether a tree could also feel fear.

Suddenly she was able to tell him almost everything. No, not quite everything. She could ask him why everyone was upset about her going riding in men's clothing, and he would answer. But she could not ask him why she had been chosen to become this royal cow that had to be serviced. Why am I the first and most exalted of women, when I am only breeding stock, the lowest of the low?

She walked quickly. Sometimes she would get ahead of him; she would purposely get ahead of him. It was easier to ask certain questions if he couldn't see her face. She would not turn around but ask with her back to him:

"How can you have such patience with that mad fool? I can't understand it."

"The King?"

"He's ill."

"No, no," he told her. "I refuse to allow you to speak of your husband in that way. You love him, after all."

She stopped abruptly.

It was a dense forest. He could see that her back had begun to shake. She was weeping, soundlessly. Far behind he heard the sound of the ladies-in-waiting, their voices as they cautiously worked their way through the thickets.

He went up to her. She sobbed in despair, leaning on his shoulder. They stood motionless for a few moments. The sounds came closer.

"Your Majesty," he said in a low voice. "You must be careful so that…"

She looked up at him, seemed suddenly calm.

"Why?"

"People might…misinterpret…"

The sounds were now quite near, she was still standing close to him, pressing against his shoulder; and she looked up and said almost without expression:

"Then let them. I'm not afraid. Not of anything. Not of anything.

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