The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1225: Chapter 144: The Truth Revealed

Bismarck stumbled into the room, and Nourri slammed the door shut. The lead tenor of the Paris Opera House kicked the young Prussian in the back, knocking him to the floor.

Nourri raised his gun barrel to Bismarck’s forehead and pressed, demanding: ”Speak! What were you eavesdropping at the door for? Who sent you here?”

Facing the dark muzzle, Bismarck, flustered, was about to explain, but Nourri’s slap instantly made the young, spirited lad feel his dignity was insulted, and he shouted, cursing: ”A bunch of damned Italian rats, Germany is not a place for you lot to mess around! I, Otto von Bismarck, am not someone you can insult at will!”

Though it was just a curse, it showed that Bismarck was a brave and meticulous lad. To prevent the other party from understanding what he wanted to convey, he cursed in German, while his self-introduction was thoughtfully done in Italian.

Arthur, sitting in the chair, raised an eyebrow at this: ”Otto, your foreign language skills are quite good! Previously, Professor Herbart told me that you were mediocre in all subjects, but it seems that at least you can get an A in language subjects. Besides Italian and German, what other languages can you speak?”

Bismarck turned to look at Arthur, like grabbing the last straw for salvation, answering every question: ”Italian, Latin, French, English, Dutch, and I can speak a bit of Russian. However, Your Excellency, now is probably not the time to discuss academics, is it?”

Arthur crossed his legs and put down his teacup: ”It seems you do indeed have a strong desire to become a diplomat. So, you came here today, presumably to practice your conversation skills with our Italian friends?”

”Damn it!” One member of Young Italy suddenly stood up, grabbed Bismarck by the collar: ”We’re screwed, this lad understands Italian, seems like we can’t let him leave here alive today.”

Bismarck turned pale with fear upon hearing this, never expecting that the only subject he’d diligently worked on not only didn’t pave a glorious road to becoming a diplomat but rather brought him impending disaster.

The young Prussian was anxious and shouted at Arthur: ”Your Excellency, this isn’t what you promised. Studying hard without a scholarship is one thing, but do you intend to let these damned folks reward me with a bullet? Quickly tell them, I’m not an Austrian secret policeman, I’m the Gestapo of Gottingen!”

Not understanding what Gestapo meant, Heine couldn’t help but raise his hand to ask: ”Is there a difference between the two?”

”A huge difference! It’s like the difference between a monkey and a human!” Bismarck argued vehemently: ”Secret policemen serve Metternich’s lackeys, whereas I work for the School Director Hastings.”

Great Dumas, stroking his chin, commented: ”Pardon my boldness, but I dare say the difference between you and an Austrian secret policeman might not be as big as the difference between a human and a monkey.”

Arthur knew they couldn’t dwell on this issue for too long, otherwise, given Bismarck’s temper and Great Dumas’s understanding of him, things would soon unravel.

He stepped forward to separate the Young Italy party member from Bismarck.

”Mr. Battista, there’s no need to be so tense, this is the president of our Student Union at the University of Gottingen. You should have seen by now what Gottingen’s students are like. They despise their senior Metternich so passionately that if not restrained by the school, they would’ve likely caused a commotion similar to what you did in Genoa.”

Heine then recalled that he seemed to have heard the name Bismarck somewhere, and he stepped forward to help the lad up, brushing the dust off his backside: ”So you are that Bismarck, huh?”

Faced with the concern of his senior, Bismarck suppressed his repulsion and flattered him: ”Mr. Heine, it is truly a great honor to meet you at such close quarters. Although you don’t need the praise of someone as insignificant as myself, I must say you are ranked second among the great writers in my mind, above Goethe, but below Schiller.”

However, Heine, usually proud, rarely declined such praise: ”If you say I am more outstanding than anyone else, I can accept it calmly, but Goethe is unique; he should be compared with Homer and Shakespeare, not ranked with a mediocre talent like me.”

After speaking, he didn’t forget to actively defend this junior: ”Gentlemen, it seems this is a misunderstanding. It’s hard for a German who reads works by Lessing, Goethe, and Schiller, to work for Metternich.”

Great Dumas joked: ”Didn’t Prussia accuse you of treason? Besides Goethe and Schiller, he also reads your books, according to the government’s consistent logic, this lad can be considered an accomplice of traitors too.”

Heine snorted gently: ”Not just a traitor. Ever since the July Revolution in France, the Junkers and priests have feared the power of my words more than ever, thus sparing no effort to ruin my reputation. They may abuse these terms to accuse me of materialism and even atheism without substance, denounce me before the Prussian mob as a Jew or Saint-Simonian, using every term to slander, defame, and accuse me.”