The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 910: Chapter 23: On the way to the Paris Concert Hall, please invite Sir Hastings to come forward_2

Arthur heard Heine heap so much praise on him at once and immediately knew things couldn’t be as simple as he thought.

Getting this Jewish German nationalist poet to insult someone was easy, but obtaining a single compliment from his mouth was as hard as climbing to the heavens.

Lisi, the young piano virtuoso in Paris, must have had a major falling out with Heine to provoke such a sharp and caustic nature from him.

However, from Heine’s words, it seemed they likely had some personal grievances rather than a disagreement in political views. Otherwise, Heine would probably have cursed Lisi as having German hemorrhoids accompanied by urinary incontinence, much like he did with Metternich.

Heine stood by the window and called to Arthur, “Come on in, the rain outside is quite heavy. If you stand there a bit longer, you’ll catch something contagious. Although cholera isn’t as severe as it used to be, there are still occasional cases in Paris. Arthur, you wouldn’t want to be stuck in the bathroom with diarrhea all day, right?”

“Of course not.” Arthur replied with a smile, “Spending too much time in the bathroom can cause hemorrhoids. I’m still young, so I don’t want to enjoy Metternich’s same treatment just yet.”

Heine burst into laughter and said, “Come in, I’ve prepared some black tea for you. You can choose whether to add milk or sugar.”

Arthur entered the apartment, bypassed the staircase, and soon found Heine’s room.

The room couldn’t be described as spacious, but for a bachelor poet in his thirties like Heine, it was more than ample.

At the very least, the kitchen, bedroom, and living room were all complete. Although the furnishings were simple, there was no lack of teaware, bookshelves, and wardrobes.

Heine came out of the kitchen carrying a tea tray and noticed Arthur pulling an envelope from his pocket and placing it on the table before he even spoke.

“This is the remaining royalty from last year that wasn’t settled. I’ve converted it to Francs for you, totaling 35 Louis d’or, which is 700 Francs.”

Heine didn’t even glance at the envelope, but the smile at the corner of his eyes was undeniable: “Arthur, this really is a timely help. How did you know I’m short on cash recently?”

“Hmm?”

Arthur poured some milk into his teacup and said, “You’re short on cash? Heinrich, I remember before you returned home last year, you received a royalty payment of 20 Pounds from the editorial office, and I shared another 100 Pounds with you in Liverpool, totaling 2400 Francs. Yet within a year, you spent all that money?”

Heine took a sip of tea, crossed his legs, and leaned back on the sofa: “It’s hard to make money, but is spending it that difficult? I first used that money to pay off a debt of 1000 Francs, then just ate and drank casually, traveled around, and occasionally joined some social events, and it was gone. Think about it, in Paris, just buying a chicken costs fourteen or fifteen Sous. If you eat at a restaurant, the price of a chicken easily doubles. Going to a restaurant twice a day, even if you eat nothing but chicken, costs 3 Francs a day, which is nearly 1100 Francs a year. So this calculation shows that aside from paying off the debt, I only used 1400 Francs in a year, and that is quite frugal.”

Hearing this, Arthur did not refute him, but sipped his tea and nodded in agreement: “Indeed frugal, but, Heinrich, if you wish to live a more affluent life, you must work harder in providing us with contributions. Your work was well-received in London. Are you interested in continuing to work with the ‘British’?”

Arthur’s words hit Heine’s sweet spot, and he immediately agreed, saying: “Arthur, I must say, the ‘British’ is the most discerning literary magazine I’ve ever encountered. In my view, ‘Blackwood’s’ will soon be surpassed by you in Britain. You have vision, content, and cultivation, and never delay or skimp on royalty payments. You know the value of my work. If Lisi’s eyes were half as discerning as yours, I wouldn’t have to… ”

Just as Heine was speaking, Arthur immediately interrupted him: “Lisi? Isn’t he a pianist? Has this gentleman decided to venture into literary criticism recently, so he specifically wrote an article attacking your work?”

Heine snorted disdainfully: “Arthur, don’t equate Lisi with you. Not every pianist can cross into literary creation. I said Lisi was undiscerning because I once wrote an article praising him, ‘Paganini and Lisi.’ The whole of Paris gave this article unanimous praise. Look, I went to such great lengths to promote him, so shouldn’t he, at the very least, give me some royalties?”

Upon hearing this, Arthur was baffled for a moment: “Royalties?”

“That’s right, I merely asked for some royalties. Or, you could call it a labor fee.”

Heine said, full of displeasure: “After the article generated a response, I conveniently sent him a bill for 1000 Francs. Just 1000 Francs, which seems like a lot from a numerical perspective, but if converted to Pounds, it’s just fifty. You and I earned two fifty Pounds with one trip to Liverpool. But Lisi completely ignored my letter, as if he had no idea I had written anything for him.”

Arthur asked with a strange expression: “Heinrich.”

“What’s up.”

“Though it might be inappropriate to say this, but… if I understand correctly, isn’t there a hint of blackmail in what you’ve done?”

“Blackmail? Nothing of the sort.” Heine emphasized: “I put in the labor, achieved results, and it’s not just Lisi I’m targeting. I also sang high praises for Meyerbeer’s opera ‘Demon Rob’ and sent him a letter, and Mr. Meyerbeer graciously settled the bill.”