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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Fritz and the New Era, by Louise Muhlbach
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Old Fritz and the New Era
+
+Author: Louise Muhlbach
+
+Translator: Peter Langley
+
+Posting Date: January 28, 2009 [EBook #3460]
+Release Date: October, 2002
+Last Updated: October 14, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA
+
+By L. Muhlbach
+
+
+Translated from the German by Peter Langley
+
+
+
+
+     BOOK I.
+
+     OLD FRITZ.
+
+     I. The Lonely King
+
+     II. Wilhelmine Enke
+
+     III. Frederick William
+
+     IV. The Drive to Berlin
+
+     V. The Oath of Fidelity
+
+     VI. The Parade
+
+     VII. The Miraculous Elixir
+
+     VIII. The Golden Rain
+
+     IX. German Literature and the King
+
+
+
+
+     BOOK II.
+
+     ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES.
+
+     X. Goethe in Berlin
+
+     XI. The Inner and the Middle Temple
+
+     XII. The Jesuit General
+
+     XIII. A Pensioned General
+
+     XIV. The King’s Letter
+
+     XV. Hate and Love
+
+     XVI. Charles Augustus and Goethe
+
+     XVII. Goethe’s Visits
+
+     XVIII. Farewell to Berlin
+
+
+
+
+     BOOK III.
+
+     STORM AND PRESSURE.
+
+     XIX. The King and the Austrian Diplomat
+
+     XX. The King and the Lover
+
+     XXI. In Weimar
+
+     XXII. The Reading
+
+     XXIII. Witchcraft
+
+     XXIV. The Purse-Proud Man
+
+     XXV. The Elopement
+
+     XXVI. Under the Starry Heavens
+
+     XXVII. The Sacrifice
+
+
+
+
+     BOOK IV.
+
+     THE VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES.
+
+     XXVIII. Old Fritz
+
+     XXIX. Cagliostro’s Return
+
+     XXX. The Triumvirate
+
+     XXXI. Future Plans
+
+     XXXII. Miracles and Spirits
+
+     XXXIII. The Return Home
+
+     XXXIV. Behind the Mask
+
+     XXXV. The Curse
+
+     XXXVI. The King and the Rosicrucians
+
+     XXXVII. The Espousals
+
+     XXXVIII. Revenge Fulfilled
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+I would merely say a few words in justification of the Historical
+Romance, in its relation to history. Any one, with no preceding profound
+study of history, who takes a few well-known historical facts as a
+foundation for an airy castle of romantic invention and fantastic
+adventure, may easily write an Historical Romance; for him history is
+only the nude manikin which he clothes and adorns according to his own
+taste, and to which he gives the place and position most agreeable
+to himself. But only the writer who is in earnest with respect
+to historical truth, who is not impelled by levity or conceited
+presumption, is justified in attempting this species of composition;
+thoroughly impressed with the greatness of his undertaking, he will with
+modest humility constantly remember that he has proposed to himself
+a great and sublime work which, however, it will be difficult if not
+impossible for him wholly and completely to accomplish.
+
+But what is this great, this sublime end, which the Historical Romance
+writer proposes to attain? It is this: to illustrate history, to
+popularize it; to bring forth from the silent studio of the scholar and
+to expose in the public market of life, for the common good, the great
+men and great deeds embalmed in history, and of which only the studious
+have hitherto enjoyed the monopoly. Thus, at least, have I considered
+the vocation I have chosen, not vainly or inconsiderately, but with
+a profound conviction of the greatness of my undertaking, and with
+a depressing consciousness that my power and acquirements may prove
+inadequate for the attainment of my proposed end.
+
+But I am also fully conscious of what was and still is my greatest
+desire: to give an agreeable and popular form to our national history,
+which may attract the attention and affections of our people, which may
+open their understandings to the tendencies of political movements, and
+connect the facts of history with the events of actual life.
+
+The severe historian has to do but with accomplished facts; he can only
+record and describe, with the strictest regard to truth, that which has
+outwardly occurred. He describes the battles of peoples, the struggles
+of nations, the great deeds of heroes, the actions of princes--in short,
+he gives the accomplished facts. To investigate and explain the secret
+motives, the hidden causes of these facts, to present them in connection
+with all that impelled to them, this is the task of Historical Romance.
+
+The historian presents to you the outward face, the external form of
+history; Historical Romance would show you the heart of history, and
+thus bring near to your heart what, else, would stand so far off. To
+enable him to do this, the writer of an Historical Romance must, indeed,
+make severe and various studies. He must devote his whole mind and soul
+to the epoch he would illustrate, he must live in it and feel with it.
+He must so familiarize himself with all the details, as in a manner to
+become a child of that epoch; for he can present a really living image
+of only that which is living in himself. That this requires a deep and
+earnest study of history is self-evident. Historical Romance demands the
+study of the historian, together with the creative imagination of the
+poet. For the free embodiment of the poet can blossom only from out
+the studio of the historian, as the flower from the seed; as, by a
+reciprocal organic action, the hyacinth is derived from the onion, and
+the rose from its seed-capsule, so are history and poetry combined
+in the Historical Romance, giving and receiving life to and from each
+other.
+
+The Historical Romance has its great task and its great justification--a
+truth disputed by only those who either have not understood or will not
+understand its nature.
+
+The Historical Romance has, if I may be allowed so to speak, four
+several objects for which to strive:
+
+Its first object is, to throw light upon the dark places of history,
+necessarily left unclear by the historian. Poetry has the right and duty
+of setting facts in a clear light, and of illuminating the darkness
+by its sunny beams. The poetry of the romance writer seeks to deduce
+historical characteristics from historical facts, and to draw from the
+spirit of history an elucidation of historical characters, so that the
+writer may be able to detect their inmost thoughts and feelings, and in
+just and sharp traits to communicate them to others.
+
+The second task of Historical Romance is, to group historical characters
+according to their internal natures, and thus to elucidate and
+illustrate history. This illustration then leads to the third task,
+which is the discovery and exposition of the motives which impel
+individual historical personages to the performance of great historical
+acts, and from outwardly, apparently insignificant events in their lives
+to deduce their inmost thoughts and natures, and represent them clearly
+to others.
+
+Thence follows the fourth task: the illustration of historical facts
+by a romance constructed in the spirit of the history. This fourth and
+principal task is the presentation of history in a dramatic form and
+with animated descriptions; upon the foundation of history to erect the
+temple of poesy, which must nevertheless be pervaded and illuminated by
+historic truth. From this it naturally follows that it is of very little
+consequence whether the personages of the Historical Romance actually
+spoke the words or performed the acts attributed to them; it is only
+necessary that those words and deeds should be in accordance with the
+spirit and character of such historical personages, and that the writer
+should not attribute to them what they could not have spoken or done.
+In the Historical Romance, when circumstances or events are presented in
+accordance with historical tradition, when the characters are naturally
+described, they bear with them their own justification, and Historical
+Romance has need of no further defence.
+
+Historical Romance should be nothing but an illustration of history. If
+the drawing, grouping, coloring, and style of such an illustration
+of any given historical epoch are admitted to be true, then the
+illustration rises to the elevation of a work of art, worthy of a place
+beside the historical picture, and is equally useful.
+
+Raphael’s “School of Athens,” his “Institution of the Communion,” and
+many others of his pictures, are such illustrations of history--as also
+the great paintings of Rubens from the life of Anna dei Medici; and then
+the historical pictures of Horace Vernet, of Delaroche, of Lessing, and
+of Kaulbach--all these are illustrations of history. What those artists
+present and illustrate with paint and pencil, the Historical Romancer
+represents in words with his pen; and when he does this successfully,
+he will live in the memory of his reader as imperishably as the great
+historical pictures of the painters in the memory of their beholders.
+
+It would occur to no one to accuse a successful historical picture of
+falsehood, because the books of history do not show that the occurrence
+took place precisely in the manner represented, that the historical
+personages really so laughed or wept, or so deported themselves. If
+the situation and grouping of historical events are allowed to be in
+accordance with the general tenor of history, then the picture may be
+pronounced historically true, and is just as good a piece of history as
+the record of the special historian. It is the same with the pictures
+of the romancer as with those of the painter; and this is my answer to
+those who, on every occasion, are continually asking: “Was it really
+thus? Did it really occur in that manner?”
+
+Show me from history that it could not be so; that it is not in
+accordance with the character of the persons represented--then I will
+confess that I am wrong, and you are right; then have I not presented an
+illustration, but only a caricature of history, faulty as a work of art,
+and wanting the dignity of truth.
+
+I am conscious of having earnestly and devotedly striven for the truth,
+and of having diligently sought it in all attainable historical works.
+The author of an Historical Romance has before him a difficult task:
+while he must falsify nothing in history, he must poetize it in a manner
+that both historical and poetic truth shall be the result. To those,
+however, who so very severely judge Historical Romance, and would deny
+its historical worth, I now, in conclusion, answer with the following
+significant quotation from Schiller:
+
+“I shall always prove a bad resource for any future historian who may
+have the misfortune to recur to me. History is generally only a magazine
+for my fantasy, and objects must be contented with whatever they may
+become under my hand.”--(See Weisnar’s “Musenhof,” p. 93.)
+
+This declaration of Schiller satisfies me with respect to the nature of
+my own creations. I desire not to be a resource for historical writers,
+but I shall always earnestly and zealously seek to draw from the
+wells of history, that nothing false or unreal may find a place in the
+“magazine of my fantasy.”
+
+CLARA MUNDT,
+
+(L. MUEHLBACH. )
+
+BERLIN, September 22, 1866.
+
+
+
+
+
+OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK I. OLD FRITZ.
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE LONELY KING.
+
+
+“Well, so let it be!” said the king, sighing, as he rose from his
+arm-chair; “I must go forth to the strife, and these old limbs must
+again submit to the fatigue of war. But what matters it? The life of
+princes is passed in the fulfilment of duties and responsibilities,
+and rarely is it gladdened with the sunny rays of joy and peace! Let us
+submit!
+
+“Yes, let us submit!” repeated the king, thoughtfully, slowly pacing his
+cabinet back and forth, his hands folded upon his staff behind him, and
+his favorite dog, Alkmene, sleepily following him.
+
+It was a melancholy picture to see this bowed-down old man; his thin,
+pale face shaded by a worn-out, three-cornered hat, his dirty uniform
+strewn with snuff; and his meagre legs encased in high-topped,
+unpolished boots; his only companion a greyhound, old and joyless as
+his master. Neither the bust of Voltaire, with its beaming, intelligent
+face, nor those of his friends, Lord-Marshal Keith and the Marquis
+d’Argens, could win an affectionate glance from the lonely old king.
+He whom Europe distinguished as the Great Frederick, whom his subjects
+called their “father and benefactor,” whose name was worthy to shine
+among the brightest stars of heaven, his pale, thin lips just murmured,
+“Resignation!”
+
+With downcast eyes he paced his cabinet, murmuring, “Let us submit!”
+ He would not look up to those who were gazing down upon him from the
+walls--to those who were no more. The remembrance of them unnerved
+him, and filled his heart with grief. The experiences of life, and the
+ingratitude of men, had left many a scar upon this royal heart, but had
+never hardened it; it was still overflowing with tender sympathy
+and cherished memories. To Lord-Marshal Keith, Marquis d’Argens, and
+Voltaire, Frederick owed the happiest years of his life.
+
+D’Argens, who passionately loved Frederick, had been dead five years;
+Lord-Marshal Keith one month; and Voltaire was dying! This intelligence
+the king had received that very morning, from his Paris correspondent,
+Grimm. It was this that filled his heart with mourning. The face, that
+smiled so full of intelligence, was perhaps distorted with agony, and
+those beaming eyes were now closing in death!
+
+Voltaire was dying!
+
+Frederick’s thoughts were with the dead and dying--with the past! He
+recalled, when crown prince at Rheinsberg, how much he had admired,
+loved, and distinguished Voltaire; how he rejoiced, and how honored he
+felt, when, as a young king, Voltaire yielded to his request to live
+with him at Berlin. This intimacy, it is true, did not long continue;
+the king was forced to recognize, with bitter regret, that the MAN
+Voltaire was not worthy the love which he bestowed upon the POET. He
+renounced the MAN, but the poet was still his admiration; and all the
+perfidy, slander and malice of Voltaire, had never changed Frederick.
+The remembrance of it had long since faded from his noble heart--only
+the memory of the poet, of the author of so many hours of the purest
+enjoyment, remained.
+
+Voltaire was dying!
+
+This great and powerful spirit, who so long a time, in the natural body,
+had instructed, inspired, and refreshed mankind, would leave that body
+to rise--whither?
+
+“Immortality, what art thou?” asked the king, aloud, and for the first
+time raising his eyes with an inquiring glance to the busts of his
+friends. “I have sought for thee, I have toiled for thee, my whole
+life long! Neither the researches of the learned, nor the subtleties of
+philosophy reveal thee to me. Is there any other immortality than
+fame? Any other eternal life than that which the memory of succeeding
+generations grants to the dead?” In this tone of thought Frederick
+recited, audibly, the conclusion of a poem, which he had addressed to
+D’Alembert:
+
+“I have consecrated my days to philosophy, I admit all the innocent
+pleasures of life; And knowing that soon my course will finish, I enjoy
+the present with fear of the future. What is there to fear after death?
+If the body and the mind suffer the same fate, I shall return and mingle
+with nature; If a remnant of my intellectual fire escapes death, I will
+flee to the arms of my God.” [Footnote: Posthumous works, vol. vii.,
+p.88.]
+
+“And may this soon be granted me!” continued the king; “then I shall be
+reunited to those loved ones--gone before. I must be content to tarry
+awhile in this earthly vale of sorrow, and finish the task assigned me
+by the Great Teacher; therefore, let us submit.”
+
+He sighed; pacing to and fro, his steps were arrested at a side-table,
+where lay a long black velvet box; it contained the flute that his
+beloved teacher, Quantz, had made for him. Frederick had always kept
+it in his cabinet as a memento of his lost friend; as this room he had
+devoted to a temple of Memory--of the past!
+
+“Another of the joys, another of the stars of my life vanished!”
+ murmured the king. “My charming concerts are at an end! Quantz, Brenda,
+and my glorious Graun are no more. While they are listening to the
+heavenly choir, I must be content with the miserable, idle chatter
+of men; the thunder of battle deafening my ears, to which that mad,
+ambitious Emperor of Austria hopes to force me!”
+
+As the king thus soliloquized, he involuntarily drew from the box the
+beautiful ebony flute, exquisitely ornamented with silver. A smile
+played around his delicate mouth. He raised the flute to his lips, and
+a melancholy strain floated through the stillness--the king’s requiem to
+the dead, his farewell to the dying!
+
+No sound of the outer world penetrated that lonely room. The guard of
+honor, on duty upon the Sans-Souci terrace, halted suddenly, as the
+sad music fell upon his ear. The fresh spring breeze swept through the
+trees, and drove the laden-blossomed elder-bushes tapping against the
+windowpanes, as if to offer a May-greeting to the lonely king. The
+servant in waiting stole on tiptoe to the door of the anteroom,
+listening breathlessly at the key-hole to the moving melody.
+
+Even Alkmene suddenly raised her head as if something unusual were
+taking place, fixed her great eyes upon her master, jumping upon his
+knee, and resting her fore-paws lovingly upon his breast.
+
+Frederick neither observed nor felt the movement of his favorite; his
+thoughts were absent from the present--absent from the earth! They were
+wandering in the unknown future, with the spirits of those he longed to
+see again in the Elysian fields.
+
+The wailing music of his flute expressed the lamentation of his
+soul, and his eyes filled with tears as he raised them to the bust
+of Voltaire, gazing at it with a look of pain until the melody was
+finished. Then abruptly turning, half unwillingly, half angrily, he
+returned the flute to the box, and stole away, covering his face with
+his hands, as if to hide his emotion from himself.
+
+“Now we have finished with the dead, and the living claim our thoughts,”
+ sighed the king. “What an absurd thing is the human heart! It will never
+grow cold or old; always pretending to a spark of the fire which that
+shameful fellow Prometheus stole from the gods. What an absurdity! What
+have I, an old fellow, to do with the fire of Prometheus, when the
+fire of war will soon rage around me,” At this instant the door gently
+opened. “What do you want, Muller? What do you poke your stupid face in
+here for?” said the king.
+
+“Pardon me, your majesty,” replied the footman, “the Baron von Arnim
+begs for an audience.”
+
+“Bid him enter,” commanded the king, sinking back in his old, faded
+velvet arm-chair. Resting his chin upon his staff, he signed to the
+baron, who stood bowing upon the threshold, to approach. “Well, Arnim,
+what is the matter? What papers have you there?”
+
+“Sire,” answered Baron von Arnim, “the contract of the French actors,
+which needs renewing, I have to lay before your majesty; also a paper,
+received yesterday, from Madame Mara; still another from the singer
+Conciliani, and a petition from four persons from the opera.”
+
+“What stupid stuff!” growled the king, at the same time bestowing a
+caress upon Alkmene. “Commence with your report. Let us hear what those
+singers are now asking for.”
+
+“The singer Conciliani has addressed a heart-breaking letter to your
+majesty, and prays for an increase of salary--that it is impossible for
+him to live upon three thousand dollars.”
+
+“Ah! that is what is wanted?” cried the king, furious, and striking his
+staff upon the floor. “The fellow is mad; When he cannot live upon
+three thousand, he will not be able to live upon four. I want money for
+cannon. I cannot spend it for such nonsense. I am surprised, Von Arnim
+that you repeat such stuff to me.”
+
+“Your majesty, it is my duty that I--”
+
+“What! Your duty is not to flatter them. I pay them to give me pleasure,
+not presumption. Remember, once for all, do not flatter them. Conciliani
+will get no increase of salary. If he persists, let him go to the
+mischief! This is my decision.--Proceed! What is Madame Mara begging
+for?”
+
+“Madame Mara constantly refuses to sing the airs which your majesty
+commanded to be introduced into the opera of ‘Coriolanus.’ She has
+taken the liberty to address you in writing; here is the letter, if your
+majesty will have the grace to read it.”
+
+“By no means, sir, by no means!” cried the king; at the same instant
+catching the paper with his staff, he slung it like a shot arrow to the
+farthest corner of the room, to the great amusement of Alkmene, who,
+with a loud bark, sprang from her master’s knee, and with a bound caught
+the strange bird, and tore it in pieces. “You are right, my pet,” said
+the king, laughing, “you have written my answer with your nose to this
+arrogant person. Director, say to Madame Mara that I pay her to sing,
+not to write. She must sing both airs, or she may find herself at
+Spandau for her obstinacy, where her husband is, for the same reason.
+She can reflect, and judge for herself.”
+
+The director could scarcely repress a sigh, foreboding the disagreeable
+scene that he would have to encounter with the proud and passionate
+singer. Timidly Von Arnim alluded to the four persons from the opera.
+“Who are these demoiselles, and what do they want?” asked the king.
+
+“Sire,” replied the Baron von Arnim, “they are the four persons who
+personate the role of court ladies and maids of honor to the queens and
+princesses. They beg your majesty to secure to them a fixed income.”
+
+“Indeed! Go to my writing-table and bring paper and pencil; I will
+dictate a reply to them,” said the king. “Now write, Von Arnim: ‘To the
+four court ladies and maids of honor of the opera: You are mistaken in
+addressing yourselves to me; the affair of your salaries concerns YOUR
+emperors and kings. To them you must address yourselves.--Adieu.’”
+
+Von Arnim could scarcely repress a smile.
+
+“Now we come to the last affair--the salaries and pensions of the French
+actors,” said the king; “but first tell me the news in Berlin--what
+report has trumpeted forth in the last few days.”
+
+“Your majesty, the latest news in Berlin, which rumor brings home to
+every hearth-side and every heart is, that your majesty has declared war
+with Austria on account of the Bavarian succession. Every one rejoices,
+sire, that you will humble that proud and supercilious house of Austria,
+and enter the lists for Germany.”
+
+“Listen!” answered the king, sternly. “I did not ask you to blow the
+trumpet of praise, as if your honor, inspector of the theatres, thought
+yourself upon the stage, and would commence a comedy with the king of
+lamps. So it is known then that my soldiers will enter the great theatre
+of war, and that we are about to fight real battles.”
+
+“It is known, sire,” replied Von Arnim, bowing.
+
+“Then what I am about to communicate to you will not surprise you. The
+present juncture of affairs leads us to await very grave scenes--we can
+well dispense with comedy. I withdraw the salaries and pensions of the
+French actors--your own is included. After you have dismissed the
+French comedians, you will be entirely at leisure to pursue your
+love-intrigues.--Farewell!”
+
+“Your majesty,” cried the baron, amazed, “has your highness dismissed
+me?”
+
+“Are you deaf, or have you some of the cotton in your ears which I
+presented to you at your recall from Copenhagen?” replied the king.
+[Footnote: Baron von Arnim was ambassador to Copenhagen until 1754, when
+he begged for his recall, stating that the damp climate was injurious
+to his health. The king granted his request, and the baron returned to
+Berlin. At the first audience with the king, Frederick handed Baron von
+Arnim a carefully-packed box, saying, “I do not wish the government to
+lose so valuable a servant; in this box you will find something that
+will keep you warm.” Arnim could scarcely await his return home, to open
+the box; it contained nothing but cotton. Some days afterward, however,
+the king increased Von Arnim’s income a thousand dollars, and sent him
+ambassador to Dresden. Von Arnim was afterward director of the Royal
+Theatre until dismissed in the above manner.]
+
+“Sire, I have heard all, but I cannot believe it.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” interrupted the king, “To believe is difficult; you, I
+presume, never belonged to the pious and believing. Your intrigues would
+not admit of it; but now you have the leisure to pursue them with a
+right good-will. You have only to discharge, as I have said, the entire
+French troupe, and the whole thing is done with.--Adieu, Arnim, may you
+be prospered!”
+
+Baron von Arnim muttered some incomprehensible words, and retreated
+from the royal presence. The door had scarcely closed, when it was again
+opened without ceremony by a young man, wearing a gold-laced dress.
+
+“Your majesty,” said he, hastily, in an undertone, “your majesty,
+she has just gone to the Palace Park, just the same hour she went
+yesterday.”
+
+“Is she alone?” asked the king, rising.
+
+“No, she is not alone; at a little distance the nurse follows with the
+princely infant!”
+
+The king cast an angry glance at the saucy, laughing face of the young
+man, who at once assumed a devoted, earnest mien. “Has your majesty any
+further commands?” asked he, timidly.
+
+“I command you to hold your tongue until you are spoken to!” replied
+the king, harshly. “You understand spying and hanging about, as you have
+good ears, a quick eye, and a keen scent. I therefore make use of you,
+because I need a spy; but, understand that a fellow who allows himself
+to be used as a spy, is, indeed, a useful subject, but generally a
+worthless one, and to whom it is becoming to be modest and humble. I
+am now going to Berlin; you will accompany me. Take off your finery, so
+that every one may not recognize at once the peacock by his feathers.
+Go to the taverns and listen to what they say about the war; whether the
+people are much dissatisfied about it. Keep your great ears wide open,
+and bring me this evening all the latest news. Go, now, tell my coachman
+to be ready; in half an hour I shall set off.”
+
+The young man slunk away to the door, but stood without opening it, his
+head down, and his under-lip hanging out.
+
+“What is the matter?” asked the king, in a milder tone, “why do you not
+go, Kretzschmar?”
+
+“I cannot go away if your majesty is angry with me,” muttered the
+servant, insolently. “I do not wish to hear or see any thing more for
+you when your majesty abuses me, and considers me such a mean, base
+fellow. Your majesty first commanded me to listen, and spy, and now that
+I am obeying, I am despised and scolded for it. I will have nothing
+more to do with it, and I wish your majesty to leave me a simple footman
+rather than to accord me such a mean position.”
+
+“I did not mean so badly,” said the king. “I mean well enough for
+you; but you must not permit yourself to be arrogant or disrespectful,
+otherwise you may go to Tophet! You are no common spy, you are listening
+about a little because you know I am fond of hearing what the people are
+saying, and what is going on in Berlin and Potsdam. But take care that
+they know nothing about it, otherwise they will be careful, and you will
+hear nothing. Now be off, and in order to see a cheerful face on you,
+I will make you a present.” The king drew from his vest-pocket a purse,
+well filled with small coin, and gave it to the young man, who took it,
+though he still looked angry and insolent. “Do not let your under-lip
+hang down so, for I may step upon it,” said the king. “Put the money in
+your pocket, and hurry off to tell old Pfund to harness quickly, or I
+shall not arrive in time at the park.”
+
+“There is no danger, your majesty, for the miss seems very fond of the
+promenade; she remained two hours in the park yesterday, always walking
+in the most quiet places, as if she were afraid to meet any one. She sat
+a whole hour on the iron seat by the Carp Pond, and then she went to the
+Philosopher’s Walk, and skipped about like a young colt.”
+
+“You are a very cunning fellow, and know how to use your eyes well,”
+ said the king. “Now be off, and order the carriage.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. WILHELMINE ENKE.
+
+The Palace Park was as quiet and deserted as usual. Not a voice, not a
+sound, disturbed the stillness of those silent walks. For this reason,
+undoubtedly, a young lady had sought it; at least her whole being
+expressed satisfaction and delight to wander unobserved through those
+quiet, shady alleys. She was of slight and elegant proportions, simply
+attired, without pretension, in a dark dress of some thin silk material.
+Her black silk mantle was thrown aside upon the stone seat near her,
+uncovering thus, in solitude, to the sun and birds, her lovely neck and
+arms, the beauty of which might rival the statues of the ancients. Her
+face was not of regular beauty, yet it possessed that expression of
+grace, spirit, and energy, which is oftener a more powerful and more
+enduring charm than regular beauty. Her large, expressive black eyes
+possessed a wonderful power, and her red, pouting lips wore a sweet
+smile; her fine Roman nose lent an air of decision, whilst her
+high-arched forehead led one to believe that daring, energetic thought
+lay hidden beneath those clusters of brown curls. She was not in the
+bloom of youth, but at twenty-five she appeared younger than many
+beauties at eighteen; and if her form no longer possessed the charm
+of girlhood, it was attractive from its suppleness and full, beautiful
+bust.
+
+“Louisa, Louisa, where are you?” cried the young lady, stepping quickly
+forward toward a side-path, which led from the broad avenue, and at the
+end of which was a sunny grassplot.
+
+“Here I am, miss; I am coming.”
+
+“Miss,” murmured the young lady, “how dreadfully it sounds! The blush of
+shame rises to my face, for it sounds like bitter mockery and contempt,
+and brings my whole life before me. Yet, I must endure it--and I
+scarcely wish it were otherwise. Ah, there you are, Louisa, and there
+is my beautiful boy,” she cried, with a glad voice, hastening toward the
+peasant-woman and bending fondly over her child. “How beautiful and how
+knowing he looks! It seems as if my little Alexander began to recognize
+me--he looks so earnest and sensible.”
+
+“He knows you, miss,” said the nurse, courtesying, “and he knows, like
+other children, who loves him. Children and dogs know who love them. The
+children cry, and the dogs hide themselves when people are around who
+dislike them.”
+
+“Nonsense, Louisa!” laughed the young lady, as she bent to kiss her
+child--“nonsense! did not my little boy cry when his father took him
+yesterday? And he loves his child most tenderly, as only a father can.”
+
+“Oh, there is another reason for that,” said the nurse. “He has just
+passed his first stupid three months, and he begins to hear and see what
+passes around him, and it was the first man’s face that he had seen. But
+only look, miss, what a beautiful little dog is coming up the path.”
+ It was indeed a lovely greyhound, of the small Italian race, which came
+bounding joyfully toward them, and as he saw the woman barked loudly.
+
+“Be quiet, Alkmene, be quiet!” cried a loud, commanding voice.
+
+“Oh, Heaven! it is the king!” whispered the young lady, turning pale,
+and, as if stunned, retreated a few steps.
+
+“Yes, it is really the king,” cried the nurse, “and he is coming
+directly from the grass-plot here.”
+
+“Let us go as quickly as possible, Louisa. Come, come,” and she hastily
+threw her mantle around her, drawing the hood over her curly head. She
+had only proceeded a few steps, when a loud voice bade her to remain--to
+stand still. She stood as if rooted to the spot, leaning upon her nurse
+for support; her knees sank under her, and it seemed as if the whole
+world turned around with her. After the first tumult of anxiety and
+fear, succeeded an insolent determination, and, forcing herself to
+calmness, she said: “It is the turning-point of my life; the next few
+minutes will either crush me or assure my future; let me struggle
+for the future, then. I will face him who approaches me as my judge.”
+ Forcing herself to composure, slowly and with effort she turned toward
+the king, who, approaching by the side path, had entered the avenue,
+and now stood before her. But as she encountered the fiery glance of the
+king’s eye, she quailed before it, casting down her own, covered with
+confusion.
+
+“Who are you?” demanded the king, with stern authority, keeping his
+eagle eye fixed upon her. Silent and immovable she stood; only the
+quick, feverish breathing and the heaving bosom told the storm that was
+raging within.
+
+“Who are you?” repeated the voice, with still more severity--“who permit
+themselves to use my park as a nursery? What child is that? and who are
+its parents? They should be of high position at court, who would dare
+to send their child and nurse to the royal park; and with what joy they
+must regard the offspring of their conjugal tenderness! Tell me to whom
+does this child belong?”
+
+Sobbing convulsively, the lady sank, kneeling, with uplifted arms,
+imploring for mercy. “Sire, annihilate me with your anger, but do not
+crush me with your scorn!”
+
+“What language do you permit yourself to hold?” asked the king.
+
+“Sire, it is the language of an unhappy, despairing woman, who knows
+that she stands before that great monarch whose judgment she fears more
+than that of her God, who sees into her heart, and reads the tortures
+and reproaches of her conscience; who knows what she suffers, and knows,
+also, that she is free from self-interest, and every base desire. I
+believe that God will forgive what I fear your majesty will not.”
+
+“You speak presumptuously, and remind me of the theatre princesses
+who represent a grand scene with a pathetic exit. Let me inform you,
+I despise comedians--only high tragedy pleases me. Spare yourself the
+trouble to act before me, but answer me--who are you? Whose child is
+that?”
+
+“Sire, only God and my king should hear my reply--I beg the favor to
+send away the nurse and child.” The king assented, slightly nodding his
+head, at the same time bidding her not to kneel to him as to an image.
+
+The lady rose and sought the nurse, who, from fright, had withdrawn into
+the shrubbery, and stood staring at the king with wide-open eyes. “Go
+home, Louisa, and put the child to sleep,” said she, quickly.
+
+The nurse obeyed promptly, and when alone, the king demanded again, “Who
+are you? and to whom does the child belong?”
+
+“Your majesty, I am the daughter of your chapel musician Enke, and the
+child is the son of Prince Frederick William of Prussia,” she replied,
+in a firm and defiant manner.
+
+The king’s eyes flashed as he glanced at the bold speaker. “You say so,
+but who vouches for the truth of it? You permit yourself to use a
+high name, to give your child an honorable father! What temerity! what
+presumption! What if I should not believe you, but send you to the house
+of correction, at Spandau, as a slanderer, as guilty of high-treason, as
+a sinner and an adulteress?”
+
+“You could not do it, sire--you could not,” cried Wilhelmine Enke, “for
+you would also send there the honor and the name of your successor to
+the throne.”
+
+“What do you mean?” cried the king, furiously.
+
+“I mean, your majesty, that the prince has holy duties toward me. I am
+the mother of that child!”
+
+“You acknowledge your shame, and you dare confess it to me, your king,
+that you are the favorite, the kept mistress of the Prince of Prussia,
+who has already a wife that has borne him children? You do not even seek
+to deny it, or to excuse yourself?”
+
+“I would try to excuse myself, did I not feel that your majesty would
+not listen to me.”
+
+“What excuse could you offer?--there is none.”
+
+“Love is my excuse,” cried Wilhelmine, eagerly. “Oh! my ruler and king,
+do not shake your noble head so unbelievingly; do not look at me so
+contemptuously. Oh, Father in heaven, I implore Thee to quicken my
+mind, that my thoughts may become words, and my lips utter that which
+is burning in my soul! In all these years of my poor, despised, obscure
+life, how often have I longed for this hour when I might stand before
+my king, when I might penitently clasp his knees and implore mercy for
+myself and my children--those poor, nameless beings, whose existence is
+my accusation, and yet who are the pride and joy of my life! Oh, sire,
+I will not accuse, to excuse myself; I will not cast the stone at others
+which they have cast at me. But it is scarcely charitable to judge and
+condemn a young girl fourteen years of age, who did but obey the command
+of her parents, and followed the man who was the first and only one that
+ever whispered the word of love in her ear.”
+
+“I have heard that your parents sold their child to shame. Is it true?”
+ cried the king.
+
+“Sire, my father was poor; the scanty income of a chapel musician
+scarcely sufficed to educate and support four children. The prince
+promised my father to educate me.”
+
+“Bah! The promises of a young man of twenty-five are made without
+reflection, and rarely ever fulfilled.”
+
+“Sire, to the Prince of Prussia I owe all that I know, and all that I
+am; his promise to my dying father was fully redeemed.”
+
+“Indeed, by whom were you taught, and what have you learned?”
+
+“Your majesty, the prince wished, before all, that I should learn to
+speak French. Madame Girard was my French instructress, and taught me to
+play the guitar and spinet also.”
+
+“Oh, I presume you have learned to jabber a little French and drum a
+little music,” said the king, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+“I beg pardon, sire; I have a tolerable knowledge of history and of
+geography. I am familiar with the ancient and modern poets. I have read
+a good French translation of Homer, Horace, and Virgil, with a master. I
+have studied the history of Brandenburg, of Germany, and of America. We
+have read the immortal works of Voltaire, of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and
+of Shakespeare, with many of our modern poets. My instructor has read
+all these works aloud to me, and he was much pleased when I repeated
+parts of what he had read to me some days afterward.”
+
+“You appear to have had a very learned instructor,” remarked the king,
+sneeringly. “What is his name?”
+
+“His name, sire, is Prince Frederick William of Prussia. Yes, it is
+he who has taught me--he who has made me an intelligent woman. However
+young he was when he undertook the task, he has accomplished it with
+fidelity, firmness, and patience. He loved me, and would make me worthy
+of him, in heart and mind. I shall ever be grateful to him, and only
+death can extinguish the love and esteem with which he in spires me.”
+
+“Suppose I command you to leave the prince? Suppose I will no longer
+endure the scandal of this sinful relation?”
+
+“I shall never willingly separate myself from my dear prince and
+master--from the father of my two children. Your majesty will be obliged
+to force me from him,” answered Wilhelmine, defiantly.
+
+“Oh, that will not be necessary, mademoiselle,” cried the king. “There
+are ways enough. I will make known my wishes to the prince; I will
+command him to leave you, and have no further communication with you.”
+
+“Sire,” she answered, gently, “I know that the prince is an obedient
+and respectful subject and servant to his king in all things, but this
+command he would not obey.”
+
+“He would not dare to brave my commands!”
+
+“He would not brave them, sire. Oh, no; it would be simply impossible to
+obey them.”
+
+“What would hinder him?”
+
+“Love, sire; the respect which he owes to me as the mother of his two
+children--who has consecrated her love, her honor to him, and of whom no
+one can say that she has injured the fidelity which she has sworn to
+the prince--to the man of her first and only love--even with a word or
+look.”
+
+“You mean to say, that I cannot separate you from the prince but by
+force?”
+
+“Yes, your majesty,” cried she, with conscious power, “that is exactly
+what I mean.”
+
+“You will find yourself deceived; you will be made to realize it,” said
+the king, with a menacing tone. “You know nothing of the power that lies
+in a legitimate marriage, and what rivals legitimate children are, whom
+one dares acknowledge before God--before the world. Boast not of the
+love of the prince, but remember that an honorable solitude is the only
+situation becoming to you. Such connections bear their own curse and
+punishment with them. Hasten to avoid them. Lastly, I would add, never
+dare to mingle your impure hands in the affairs of state. I have been
+obliged to give the order to the state councillors in appointments and
+grants of office, not to regard the protection and recommendation of a
+certain high personage, as you are the real protectress and bestower of
+mercy. Take care, and never let it happen again. You will never venture
+to play the little Pompadour here, nor anything else but what your
+dishonor allows you; otherwise you will have to deal with me! You say
+that you have read Homer; then, doubtless, you remember the story of
+Penelope, who, from conjugal fidelity, spun and wove, undoing at night
+what she had woven by day. It is true, you bear little resemblance to
+this chaste dame, but you might emulate her in spinning and weaving; and
+if you are not in future retiring, I can easily make a modern Penelope
+of you, and have you instructed in spinning, for which you will have the
+best of opportunities in the house of correction at Spandau. Remember
+this, and never permit yourself to practise protection. I will keep
+the spinning-wheel and the wool ready for you; that you may count upon.
+Remember, also, that it is very disagreeable to me that you visit my
+park, as I like to breathe pure air. Direct your promenade elsewhere,
+and avoid meeting me in future.”
+
+“Your majesty, I--”
+
+“Silence! I have heard sufficient. You have nothing more to say to me.
+Go, hide your head, that no one may recognize your shame, or the levity
+of the prince. Go--and, farewell forever!” He motioned impatiently to
+her to retire, fastening his eyes with a fiery, penetrating glance upon
+her pale, agitated face, her bowed, humble attitude, and still continued
+to regard her as she painfully dragged herself down the walk, as if her
+limbs were giving way under her. Long stood the king gazing after her,
+resting upon his staff; and as she disappeared at the end of the walk,
+he still stood there immovable. By degrees his face assumed a milder
+expression. “He who is free from sin, let him cast the first stone at
+her,” said the king, softened, as he slowly turned down the path which
+would lead to his carriage, waiting outside the park.
+
+Frederick was lost in thought, and addressed no conversation to the
+equerry, Von Schwerin, who sat opposite to him. But as they drove
+through the beautiful street Unten den Linden, at Berlin, Frederick
+glanced at the equerry, and found that he had fallen asleep, wearied
+with the long silence and the monotony of the drive. The king spoke
+to Alkmene, loud and earnestly, until Herr von Schwerin, awakened
+and startled, glanced at the king, frightened, and trying to discover
+whether his fearful crime against etiquette would draw upon him the
+royal censure. Frederick, however, appeared not to notice his fright,
+and spoke kindly to him: “Did you not tell me, Schwerin, that Count
+Schmettau would sell his country residence at Charlottenburg?”
+
+“At your service, your majesty, he asked me to purchase it, or find him
+a purchaser.”
+
+“How much is it worth?”
+
+“Sire, Count Schmettau demands eight thousand dollars for it. There is
+a beautiful park belonging to it, and the house is worthy the name of a
+castle, so large is it.”
+
+“Why do you not buy it, if the count offered it to you?”
+
+The equerry assumed a sad mien, and answered, sighing: “Sire, I should
+be the happiest of men if I could buy that charming residence, and it
+would be a real blessing to me if I could enjoy in summer at times the
+fresh air. My finances unfortunately, do not allow such expenses, as I
+am not rich, and have a large family.”
+
+“Then you are right not to spend money unnecessarily,” said the king,
+quietly. “You can have as much fresh air at Potsdam as can ever enter
+your mouth, and it costs neither you nor I any thing. Say to
+Count Schmettau that you have a purchaser for his residence at
+Charlottenburg.”
+
+“Oh, you are really too kind,” cried the equerry, in an excitement of
+joy; “I do not know--”
+
+Here the carriage entered the palace court, and the concluding words
+were inaudible. Herr von Schwerin alighted quickly to assist the
+king. “Say to Schmettau to present himself to my treasurer and cabinet
+councillor, Menkon, tomorrow morning at twelve o’clock, at Sans-Souci.”
+
+The king nodded kindly to the equerry, and passed into the Swiss saloon,
+and farther on into the private rooms which he was accustomed to occupy
+whenever he remained at the capital. The Swiss saloon was fast filling,
+not alone with the generals and staff-officers of the Berlin garrison,
+but with the officers of the regiments from the provinces, who presented
+themselves at the palace according to the order of the king. The most
+of them were old and worn out, body and mind. They all looked morose and
+sorrowful. The great news of the approaching war with Austria had spread
+through the military. The old laurel-crowned generals of the Seven
+Years’ War were unwilling to go forth to earn new laurels, for which
+they had lost all ambition. Not one dared betray his secret thoughts
+to another, or utter a word of disapproval. The king’s spies were
+everywhere, and none could trust himself to converse with his neighbor,
+as he might prove to be one of them. There reigned an anxious,
+oppressive silence; the generals and staff-officers exchanged the
+ordinary greetings. All eyes were turned toward the door through which
+the king would enter, bowed down, like his generals, with the cares
+of life, and the burden of old age. The king slowly entered. He was,
+indeed, an old man, like those he came amongst, and now saluted. An
+expression of imperishable youth lighted up his pale, sunken face, and
+his eyes flashed with as much daring and fire as thirty-eight years
+before, when he had assembled his young officers around him in this very
+hall, to announce to them that he would march against Austria. How many
+wars, how many battles, how many illusions, victories, and defeats
+had the king experienced in these thirty-eight years! How little the
+youthful, fiery king of that day resembled the weak old man of to-day;
+how little in common the young King Frederick had with “Alten Fritz.”
+ And now in this feeble body dwelt the same courageous spirit. In the
+course of these years King Frederick II had become Frederick the Great!
+And great he was to-day, this little old man--great in his intentions
+and achievements, never heeding his own debility and need of repose. All
+his thoughts and endeavors concentrated on the welfare of his people and
+his country--on the greatness and glory of Germany. Those eyes which now
+glanced over the circle of generals were still flashing as those of the
+hero-king whose look had disarmed the lurking assassin, and confounded
+the distinguished savant in the midst of his eloquence, so that he
+stammered and was silent. He was still Frederick the Great, who, leaning
+upon his staff, was surrounded by his generals, whom he called to fight
+for their fatherland, for Germany!
+
+“Gentlemen,” said the king, “I have called you together to announce
+to you that we must go forth to new wars, and, God willing, to new
+victories. The Emperor of Austria forces me to it, for, against all
+laws and customs, and against all rights of kingdoms, he thinks to bring
+German territory into the possession of the house of Hapsburg. Charles
+Theodore, prince-elector, having no children, has concluded a treaty
+with the Emperor Joseph, that at his death the electorate of Bavaria
+will fall to Austria. In consequence thereof an Austrian army has
+marched into Bavaria, and garrisoned the frontier.--The prince-elector,
+Duke Charles Theodore, was not authorized to proceed thus, for, though
+he had no children to succeed him, he had a lawful successor in his
+brother’s son, Duke Charles von Zweibrucken. Electoral Saxony and
+Mecklenburg have well-founded pretensions, even if Zweibrucken were
+not existing. All these princes have addressed themselves to me, and
+requested me to represent them to the emperor and to the imperial
+government--to protect them in their injured rights. I have first
+tried kindness and persuasion to bring back Austria from her desire
+of aggrandizement, but in Vienna they have repulsed every means of
+peaceable arbitration. I, as one of the rulers of the empire (and as
+I have reaffirmed the Westphalian treaty through the Hubertsburger
+treaty), feel bound to preserve the privileges, the rights, the liberty
+of the German states. I have therefore well reflected, and decided to
+draw the sword--that what the diplomats have failed to arrange with the
+pen should be settled with the sword. These are my reasons, gentlemen,
+which make it my duty to assemble an army; therefore I have called you
+together.” His fiery eyes flashed around the circle, peeling into the
+thin, withered faces of his generals, and encountering everywhere a
+grave, earnest mien.
+
+The king repressed with an effort a sigh; then continued, with a mild
+voice: “My feeble old age does not allow me to travel as in my fiery
+youth. I shall use a post-carriage, and you, gentlemen, have the liberty
+to do the same. On the day of battle you will find me mounted; you
+will follow my example. Until then, farewell!” [Footnote: The king’s
+words.--See “Prussia, Frederick the Great,” vol. iii.]
+
+“Long live the king!” cried General von Krokow; and all the generals who
+formerly joined in this cry of the Prussian warrior, now repeated it
+in weak, trembling tones. Frederick smiled a recognition, bowing on all
+sides, then turned slowly away, leaning upon his staff.
+
+When once more alone, the youthful expression faded from his eyes, and
+the gloomy shadows of old age settled down upon his thoughtful brow.
+“They have all grown old and morose,” said he, mildly, “they will not
+show any more heroism; the fire of ambition is quenched in their souls!
+A warm stove must warm their old limbs. Oh! it is a pitiful thing
+to grow old; and still they call themselves the images of God! Poor
+boasters, who, with a breath of the Almighty, are overturned and bent as
+a blade of grass in the sand!”
+
+“Your majesty, may I come in?” asked a gentle, happy child’s voice.
+
+The king turned hastily toward the door, so softly opened, and there
+stood a charming little boy, in the uniform of a flag-bearer, with the
+cap upon his head, and a neat little sword by his side. “Yes, you may
+enter,” nodded the king kindly to him. “You know I sent for you, my
+little flag-bearer.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. FREDERICK WILLIAM.
+
+
+The little flag-bearer skipped into the room with graceful vivacity,
+and sprang, with a merry bound, up to the king, took his hand without
+ceremony, and pressed it to his lips. Then, raising up his head and
+shaking back his light-brown curls from his rosy cheeks, his bright-blue
+eyes sparkling, he looked him full in the face. “Your majesty, you say
+that you sent for me; but I must tell you that if you had not sent for
+me I would have come here alone, and begged so long at the door, that
+you would have let me come in!”
+
+“And what if I would not have let you come in at all?” said the king,
+smiling.
+
+The little flag-bearer reflected a moment, then answered with a
+confident air: “Your majesty, I would have forced open the door, thrown
+myself at your feet, and kissed your hand, saying, ‘My king, my dear
+great-uncle, I must come in to thank you a thousand times for the
+flag-bearer’s commission you have sent me, and for the beautiful
+uniform.’ Then I would see if your majesty had the courage to send me
+away.”
+
+“Let me see, my prince--do you think my courage could fail me upon any
+occasion?”
+
+“Yes, in bad things,” zealously cried the prince, “and it would be bad
+if you would not let me thank you. I am so happy with the commission and
+the beautiful uniform which you so graciously sent to me! Tell me, your
+majesty, do I not look beautifully?” The boy straightened his elegant,
+slender form, and saluted the king, putting the two fingers of his right
+hand upon his cap.
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Frederick, “you look very nicely, my prince; but it is
+not enough that you look well--you must behave well. From a flag-bearer
+in my army I expect very different things than from any common child.
+Who wears my uniform must prove himself worthy of the honor.”
+
+“Your majesty,” cried the prince, “I assure you, upon my word of honor,
+that I have no bad marks when I wear the uniform. Your majesty can ask
+my tutor. He came with me, and waits in the anteroom to speak with you.
+He will tell you that I have a good report.”
+
+“Very well, we will call him presently,” said Frederick, smiling.
+“Now we will chat a little together. Tell me whether you are very
+industrious, and if you are learning anything of consequence?”
+
+“Sire, I must learn, even if I had no inclination to; Herr Behnisch
+leaves me no peace. I have scarcely time to play. I am always learning
+to read, to write, to cipher, and to work.”
+
+“How about the geography and universal history?”
+
+“Oh, your majesty, I wish there were no geography and history in the
+world, and then I should not have to study so cruelly hard, and I could
+play more. My mother sent me last week a new battledore and shuttlecock,
+but I can never learn to play with it. I no sooner begin, than Herr
+Behnisch calls me to study. To-day I was very cunning--oh, I was so sly!
+I put it in the great-pocket of my tutor’s coat, and he brought it here
+without knowing it.”
+
+“That was very naughty,” said the king, a little severely. The prince
+colored, and, a little frightened, said: “Sire, I could not bring it
+any other way. I beg pardon, the uniform is so tight, and then--then,
+I thought it would be dishonoring it to put a shuttlecock in the
+cartridge-box.”
+
+“That was a good thought, prince, and for that I will forgive you the
+trick upon your tutor. But what will you do with the ball here? Why did
+you bring it?”
+
+“Oh, I wished to show it to your majesty, it is so beautiful, and then
+beg you to let me play a little.”
+
+“We will see, Fritz,” said the king, much pleased. “If you deserve it,
+that shall be your reward. Tell me the truth, is your tutor satisfied
+with you?”
+
+“Sire, Herr Behnisch is never really pleased, but he has not scolded me
+much lately, so I must have been pretty good. One day he wrote ‘Bien’
+under my French exercise. Oh, I was so happy that I spent six groschen
+of the thaler my father gave me a little while since, and bought two
+pots of gilly-flowers, one for myself and one for my little brother
+Henry, that he should have a souvenir of my ‘Bien!’”
+
+“That was right,” said the king, nodding approvingly. “When you are
+good, you must always let your friends and relations take part in it;
+keep the bad only for yourself.”
+
+“I will remember that, and I thank you for the kind instruction.”
+
+“The studies seem to go very well, but how is it with the behavior? They
+tell me that the prince is not always polite to his visitors; that he is
+sometimes very rude, even to the officers who pay their respects to him
+on his father’s account, and on my account, not on his own, for what
+do they care for such a little snip as he? They go to honor Prince
+Frederick William of Prussia, though he is only a little flag-bearer.
+They tell me that you do not appreciate the honor, but that at Easter
+you behaved very badly.”
+
+“Sire, it is true; I cannot deny it--I did behave badly,” sighed the
+little prince.
+
+“What was the matter?” asked the king. “It was not from fear, I hope? I
+should be very angry at that. Tell me yourself, and tell me the truth.”
+
+“Your majesty can depend upon the whole truth. My tutor says that lying
+is despicable, and that a prince who will one day be a king should be
+too proud to tell a lie! I will tell you all about it. The officers came
+to see me at Easter, just as I had put the Easter eggs in the garden,
+for my little brother and some other boys whom I had invited to hunt for
+them. I had spent my last six groschen for the eggs, and I anticipated
+so much pleasure with the hide-and-seek for them. We had just begun,
+when the officers came.”
+
+“That was really unfortunate,” said the king, sympathizingly.
+
+“Yes, sire, very disagreeable, and I could not possibly feel kindly.
+While the officers were talking, I was always wishing they would go. But
+they stayed and stayed--and when Major von Werder began to make a long
+speech to me, and I thought there was no end to it, I became impatient
+and furious--and--”
+
+“Why do you hesitate?” asked the king, looking tenderly at the frank,
+glowing face of the boy. “What happened?”
+
+“Something dreadful, sire! I could not keep in any longer. The major
+kept on talking, and looked at me so sharply, I could not help making
+an abominable face. It is unfortunately true--I ran my tongue out at
+him--only just a little bit--and I drew it back in an instant; but
+it was done, and a dreadful scene followed. The major did not say any
+thing, my tutor was red as fire, and I was thunderstruck!”
+
+“That was excessively rude, my little flag-bearer,” cried the king.
+
+The young prince was so ashamed, and was looking down so penitently,
+that he did not see the smile on Frederick’s face, and the affectionate
+look with which he regarded the youthful sinner.
+
+“Do you know that you deserve to be imprisoned fourteen days, and live
+on bread and water, for insubordination?”
+
+“I know it now, sire. I beg pardon most humbly,” said the prince,
+with quivering voice and with tears in his eyes. “I have been punished
+enough, without that. Herr Behnisch would not let me go to the garden
+again, and I have never seen the eggs which I spent my last groschen
+for, nor the boys whom I had invited. I was made to stay in my room all
+Easter week, learn twenty Latin words every day, and write three pages
+of German words in good handwriting. It was a hard punishment, but I
+knew that I deserved it, and did not complain. I only thought that I
+would do better in future.”
+
+“If you thought so, and you have already been punished, we will say
+no more about it,” said the king. “But tell me, how did you get on at
+Whitsuntide, when the officers paid you their respects again?”
+
+“Your majesty,” answered the prince, “it was a great deal better; I
+behaved tolerably well, except a very little rudeness, which was not so
+bad after all. [Footnote: The little prince’s own words.--See “Diary of
+Prince Frederick William,” p. 18.] Herr Behnisch did not punish me;
+he only said, another time, that I should do better, and not be so
+taciturn, but greet the gentlemen in a more friendly manner. I must tell
+you, sire, that when Herr Behnisch does not scold, it is a sure sign
+that I have behaved pretty well; and this time he did not.”
+
+“Fritz, I believe you,” said the king, “and you shall have the reward
+that you asked for--stay here and play a little while. Go, now, and call
+your tutor; I have a few words to say to him.”
+
+The little prince sprang toward the door, but suddenly stopped,
+embarrassed.
+
+“What is the matter?” asked the king. “Why do you not call your tutor?”
+
+“Sire, I am very much troubled. Herr Behnisch will be very angry when
+you tell him about the shuttlecock. I beg you not to betray me!”
+
+“Yes, but if you will play before me, you must get the plaything which
+you say is in his pocket.”
+
+“Sire, then I had rather not play,” cried the prince.
+
+“On the contrary,” said the king, “your punishment shall be, to take the
+plaything as cleverly out of the pocket as you put it in. If you do it
+well, then I will say nothing about it; but, if your tutor discovers
+you, then you must submit to the storm. It lies in your own hands.
+Whilst I am conversing with the tutor, try your luck. Now call him in.”
+
+The prince obeyed thoughtfully, and the tutor entered. He stood near
+the door, and made the three prescribed bows; then he waited with a
+submissive air for further commands.
+
+The king was sitting opposite the door, his hands folded upon his staff
+and his chin resting upon his hands, looking the tutor full in the face.
+Herr Behnisch bore it calmly; not a feature moved in his angular,
+wooden face. Near the tutor stood the little prince, his graceful, rosy,
+childlike face expressing eager expectation.
+
+“Approach!” said the king.
+
+Herr Behnisch stepped forward a little, and remained standing. The
+prince glided noiselessly after him, keeping his eyes fixed on the tails
+of the flesh-colored satin coat with which the tutor had adorned himself
+for this extraordinary occasion. The prince smiled as he saw the pocket
+open and the feathers of the shuttlecock peeping out. He stretched out
+his little hand and crooked his fingers to seize it.
+
+“Come nearer! Herr Behnisch,” said Frederick, who had observed the
+movement of the little prince, and who was amused at the thought of
+keeping him in suspense a little longer.
+
+Herr Behnisch moved forward, and the prince, frightened, remained
+standing with outstretched hand. He menaced the king with a glance of
+his bright blue eyes. Frederick caught the look, smiled, and turned to
+the tutor.
+
+“I believe it is three years since you commenced teaching the little
+prince?” said the king.
+
+“At your service, your majesty, since 1775.”
+
+“A tolerably long time,” said the king--“long enough to make a savant
+of a child of Nature. You have been faithful, and I am satisfied. The
+copybooks which you sent me according to my orders are satisfactory. I
+wished to acquaint you myself of my satisfaction, therefore I sent for
+you.”
+
+“Your majesty is very condescending,” said the tutor, and his sharp,
+angular face brightened a little. “I am very happy in the gracious
+satisfaction of your royal highness. I wished also to make known to you
+personally my wishes in regard to the petition for the little prince’s
+pocket-money; he should learn the use of money.”
+
+“Very well,” said the king, nodding to the prince, who stood behind the
+tutor, holding up triumphantly the shuttle cock.
+
+Yet, the most difficult feat remained to be accomplished. The battledoor
+was in the very depths of the pocket; only the point of the handle was
+visible.
+
+“Your majesty,” cried Herr Behnisch, who had taken the approving
+exclamation of “very well” to himself--“your majesty, I am very happy
+that you have the grace to approve of my petition for pocket-money.”
+
+“Yes, I think it well,” said the king, “that the prince should learn
+not to throw money out of the window. I will send you, monthly, for the
+prince, two Fredericks d’or, and, before you hand it over to him, change
+it into small pieces, that there may be a great pile of it.” [Footnote:
+The king’s own words--See “Confidential Letters.”]
+
+Just at that moment the prince tried to seize the battle door. Herr
+Behnisch felt the movement, and was on the point of turning around, when
+Frederick stopped him, by saying, “I believe it is time to commence a
+regular course of instruction for the prince. At eight years of age
+the education of an heir to the throne must progress rapidly, and be
+regulated by fixed principles. I will write out my instructions, that
+you may always have them before you.”
+
+“It will be my most earnest endeavor to follow your majesty’s commands
+to the letter,” answered the tutor, who saw not the little prince, with
+beaming face, behind him, swinging the battledoor high in the air.
+
+“I am about to enter upon a new war; no one knows if he will ever return
+from a campaign. I dare not spare my life, when the honor and fame of
+my house are at stake. Our life and death, however, are in God’s hands.
+Before we risk our lives, we should put every thing in order, and leave
+nothing undone which it is our duty to do. I will write my instructions
+to-day, and send them to you. Promise me, upon your word of honor as
+a man, that you will act upon them, as long as you are tutor to Prince
+Frederick William, even if I should not return from the campaign.”
+
+“I promise it to your majesty,” answered the tutor. “I will, in all
+things, according to the best of my ability, follow your majesty’s
+instructions.”
+
+“I believe you; I take you to be an honorable man,” said the king. “You
+will always be mindful of the great responsibility which rests upon you,
+as you have a prince to educate who will one day govern a kingdom, and
+upon whom the weal and woe of many millions are dependent. And when
+those millions of men one day bless the king whom you have educated,
+a part of the blessing will fall upon you; but when they curse him, so
+falls the curse likewise upon your guilty head, and you will feel the
+weight of it, though you may be in your grave! Be mindful of this,
+and act accordingly. Now you may depart. I will write the instructions
+immediately, so that you may receive them to-day.”
+
+Herr Behnisch bowed, backing out toward the door.
+
+“One thing more,” cried the king, motioning with his Staff to the tutor.
+“In order that you may ever remember our interview, I will present you
+with a souvenir.”
+
+He opened the drawer of his private writing-table, and took out a gold
+snuff-box, with his initials set in brilliants upon the cover; handing
+it to Herr Behnisch, he motioned him to retire, and thus spare him the
+expression of his gratitude.
+
+“Your majesty,” stammered Herr Behnisch, with tears in his eyes, “I--”
+
+“You are an honest man, and so long as you remain so, you can count upon
+me. Adieu!--Now,” said the king, as the door closed, “have you recovered
+the plaything?”
+
+“Here it is, your majesty,” shouted the prince, as he held up
+triumphantly the battledoor and shuttlecock high in the air.
+
+“You deserve your reward, and you shall have it. You can stay with me
+and play with it here. Take care and not make too much noise, as I wish
+to write.”
+
+The king now seated himself, to draw up the instructions for Herr
+Behnisch. While he was thus occupied, the little prince tossed his
+shuttlecock, springing lightly after it on tiptoe to catch it; sometimes
+he missed it, and then he cast an imploring look at the king, as it fell
+upon the furniture; but he observed it not. He was absorbed in writing
+the instructions for the education of the future king, Frederick William
+III. The physical education of the prince was his first care. He dwelt
+upon the necessity of the frequent practice of dancing, fencing, and
+riding, to give suppleness, grace, and a good carriage--through severe
+training, to make him capable of enduring all hardships. The different
+branches of study next occupied the king. “It is not sufficient,” he
+wrote, “that the prince should learn the dates of history, to repeat
+them like a parrot; but he must understand how to compare the events of
+ancient times with the modern, and discover the causes which produced
+revolutions, and show that, generally, in the world, virtue is rewarded
+and vice punished. Later, he can learn a short course of logic, free
+from all pedantry; then study the orations of Cicero and Demosthenes,
+and read the tragedies of Racine. When older, he should have some
+knowledge of the opinions of philosophers, and the different religious
+sects, without inspiring him with dislike for any one sect. Make it
+clear to him that we all worship God--only in different ways. It is
+not necessary that he should have too much respect for the priests who
+instruct him.”
+
+The shuttlecock fell, at this instant, upon the paper upon which the
+king was writing. Frederick was too much occupied to look up, but he
+threw it upon the floor, continuing to write:
+
+“The great object will be to awaken a love of learning in the prince,
+to prevent any approach to pedantry, and not to make the course of
+instruction too severe at the commencement. We now come to the chief
+division of education, that which concerns the morals. Neither you nor
+all the power in the world would be sufficient to alter the character of
+a child. Education can do nothing further than moderate the violence of
+the passions. Treat my nephew as the son of a citizen, who has to make
+his own fortune. Say to him that, when he commits follies, and learns
+nothing, the whole world will despise him. Let him assume no mannerisms,
+but bring him up simply. The--”
+
+It was the second time the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. The king
+looked up censuringly at the prince, who stood speechless with fright
+and anxiety. The king again threw it upon the floor, and wrote on:
+
+“The prince must be polite toward every one; and if he is rude, he must
+immediately make an apology. Teach him that all men are equal--that high
+birth is a myth when not accompanied with merit. Let the prince speak
+with every one, that he may gain confidence. It is of no consequence if
+he talks nonsense; every one knows that he is a child. Take care in his
+education, above all things, that he is self-reliant, and not led by
+others; his follies, as well as his good qualities, should belong to
+himself. It is of very great importance to inspire him with a love for
+military life; and for this reason say to him, and let him hear others
+say it, that every man who is not a soldier is a miserable fellow,
+whether noble or not. He must see the soldiers exercise as often as
+possible; and it would be well to send for five or six cadets, and have
+them drill before him. Every thing depends upon cultivating a taste for
+these things. Inspire him with a love of our country, above all things.
+Let no one speak to him who is not truly patriotic.”
+
+Again the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. The little prince uttered
+a cry of horror, staring at the plaything. This time the king did not
+receive the interruption so calmly. He looked at the speechless boy as
+if very angry; then took it and put it in his pocket. Casting another
+angry glance at the prince, he continued:
+
+“The officers who dine with the prince shall tease and annoy him, that
+he may become confident.”
+
+“Your majesty,” said the prince, timidly and imploringly, “I beg pardon
+a thousand times for being so awkward. I am sorry, and I will be more
+careful in the future.”
+
+The king paid no attention to him, but continued to write: “When you
+understand him better, try to learn his chief passion to uproot it,
+but to moderate it.” [Footnote: This entire instruction is an exact
+translation of the original, which Frederick drew up in French, and
+which is included in his “Complete Works.”]
+
+“My dear lord and king,” began the prince again, “I beg you will have
+the goodness to give me my shuttlecock.”
+
+The king was silent, and with apparent indifference commenced reading
+over what he had written.
+
+Prince Frederick William waited a long time, but, on receiving no
+answer, and understanding that his pleading was in vain, his face grew
+red with anger, and his eyes flashed. With an irritated, determined
+manner, he stepped close up to the king, his hands resting upon his
+hips. “Your majesty,” cried he, with a menacing tone, “will you give me
+my ball or not?”
+
+The king now looked up at the prince, who regarded him in an insolent,
+questioning manner. A smile, mild as the evening sunset, spread over
+the king’s face; he laid his hand lovingly upon the curly head of the
+prince, saying: “They will never take away Silesia from you. Here is
+your shuttlecock.” He drew it from his pocket, and gave it to the little
+prince, who seized his hand and pressed it to his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE DRIVE TO BERLIN.
+
+
+Wilhelmine Enke passed the remainder of the day, after her meeting with
+the king, in anguish and tears. She recalled all that he had said to
+her, every word of which pierced her to the heart. Her little daughter
+of seven years tried in vain to win a smile from her mamma with her
+gentle caresses. In vain she begged her to sing to her and smile as
+she was wont to do. The mother, usually so kind and affectionate, would
+today free herself from her child, and sent her away with quivering lip,
+and tears in her eyes, to listen to her nurse’s stories.
+
+Once alone, Wilhelmine paced her room with rapid strides and folded
+arms, giving vent to her repressed anguish. She reviewed her life, with
+all its changing scenes. It was a sad, searching retrospection, but
+in it she found consolation and excuse for herself. She thought of her
+childhood; she saw the gloomy dwelling where she had lived with her
+parents, brothers, and sisters. She recalled the need and the want of
+those years--the sickly, complaining, but busy mother; the foolish,
+wicked father, who never ceased his constant exercise of the bugle,
+except to take repeated draughts of brandy, or scold the children. Then
+she saw in this joyless dwelling, in which she crouched with her little
+sisters, a young girl enter, and greet them smilingly. She wore a robe
+glittering with gold, with transparent wings upon her shoulders. This
+young girl was Wilhelmine’s older sister, Sophie, who had just returned
+from the Italian opera, where she was employed. She still had on her
+fairy costume in which she had danced in the opera of “Armida,” and had
+come, with a joyous face, to take leave of her parents, and tell them
+that a rich Russian count loved her, and wanted to marry her; that in
+the intervening time he had taken a beautiful apartment for her, where
+she would remove that very evening. She must bid them farewell, for her
+future husband was waiting for her in the carriage at the door.
+
+Sophie laughed at her grumbling father, shook hands with her weeping
+mother, and bent to kiss the children. Wilhelmine, in unspeakable
+anguish, sprang after her, holding her fast, with both hands clinching
+the crackling wings. She implored her sister to take her with her, while
+the tears ran in streams down her cheeks. “You know that I love you,”
+ she cried, “and my only pleasure is to see you every day. Take me
+with you, and I will serve and obey you, and be your waiting-maid.”
+ Wilhelmine held the wings firmly with a convulsive grasp, and continued
+to weep and implore, until Sophie at last laughingly yielded.
+
+“Well, come, if you will be my waiting-maid; no one combs hair as well
+as you, and your simple style of arranging it suits me better than any
+other. Come, come, it shall be arranged, you shall be my waiting-maid.”
+
+The pictures of memory changed, and Wilhelmine saw herself in the midst
+of splendor, as the poor little maid, unnoticed by her brilliant sister,
+the beloved of the Russian Count Matuschko. Joy and pleasure reigned in
+the beautifully gilded apartment where Sophie lived. She was the queen
+of the feasts and the balls. Many rich and fine gentlemen came there,
+and the beautiful Sophie, the dancer, the affianced of Count Matuschko,
+received their homage. No one observed the sad little waiting-maid, in
+her dark stuff dress, with her face bound up in black silk, as if she
+had the toothache. She wore the cast-off morning dresses of her sister,
+and, at her command, bound her face with the black silk, so that the
+admirers of her sister should not see, by a fugitive glance, or chance
+meeting, the budding beauty of the little maid.
+
+Wilhelmine dared not enter the saloon when visitors were there; only
+when Sophie was alone, or her artistic hand was needed to arrange her
+sister’s beautiful hair, was she permitted to stay with the future
+countess. Every rough touch was resented with harsh words, blows, and
+ill-treatment. The smiling fairy of the drawing-room, was the harsh,
+grim mistress for her sister, whose every mistake was punished with
+unrelenting severity. In fact, she was made a very slave; and now,
+after long years, the remembrance of it even cast a gloomy shadow over
+Wilhelmine’s face, and her eyes flashed fire.
+
+Another picture now rose up before her soul, which caused her face to
+brighten, as a beautiful beaming image presented itself, the image of
+her first and only love! She lived over again the day when it rose up
+like a sun before her wondering, admiring gaze, and yet it was a stormy
+day for her. Sophie was very angry with her, because in crimping her
+hair she had burnt her cheek, which turned the fairy into a fury. She
+threw the weak child upon the floor, and beat and stamped upon her.
+
+Suddenly a loud, angry voice commanded her to cease, and a strong, manly
+arm raised the trembling, weeping girl, and with threatening tone bade
+Sophie be quiet. Prince Frederick William of Prussia took compassion on
+the poor child. The sister had not remarked him in her paroxysm of
+rage; had never heard him enter. He had been a witness to Wilhelmine’s
+ill-treatment. He now defended her, blaming her sister for her cruelty
+to her, and declared his intention to be her future protector. How
+handsome he looked; how noble in his anger; how his eyes flashed as he
+gazed upon her, who knelt at his feet, and kissed them, looking up to
+him as her rescuer!
+
+“Wilhelmine, come with me; I do not wish you to remain here,” said he;
+“your sister will never forgive you that I have taken your part. Come,
+I will take you to your parents, and provide for you. You shall be as
+beautiful and accomplished a lady as your sister, but, Heaven grant, a
+more generous and noble-hearted one! Come!”
+
+These words, spoken with a gentle, winning voice, had never died away
+in her heart. Twelve years had passed since then, and they still rang
+in her ear, in the tumult of the world as well as in the quiet of her
+lonely room. They had comforted her when the shame of her existence
+oppressed her; rejoiced her when, with the delight of youth and
+happiness, she had given herself up to pleasure. She had followed him
+quietly, devotedly, as a little dog follows his master. He had kept his
+word; he had had her instructed during three years, and then sent her to
+Paris, in order to give her the last polish, the tournure of the world,
+however much it had cost him to separate from her, or might embarrass
+him, with his scanty means, to afford the increase of expense. A year
+elapsed and Wilhelmine returned a pleasing lady, familiar with the tone
+of the great world, and at home in its manners and customs.
+
+The prince had kept his word--that which he had promised her as he took
+her from her sister’s house, to make her a fine, accomplished lady. And
+when he repeated to her now “Come,” could she refuse him--him to whom
+she owed every thing, whom she loved as her benefactor, her teacher, her
+friend, and lover? She followed him, and concealed herself for him in
+the modest little dwelling at Potsdam. For him she lived in solitude,
+anxiously avoiding to show herself publicly, that the king should never
+know of her existence, and in his just anger sever the unlawful tie
+which bound her to the Prince of Prussia. [Footnote: “Memoirs of the
+Countess Lichtenau,” p. 80.] Wilhelmine recalled the past seven years
+of her life, her two children, whom she had borne to the prince, and
+the joy that filled his heart as he became a father, although his lawful
+wife had also borne him children. She looked around her small, quiet
+dwelling, arranged in a modest manner, not as the favorite of the Prince
+of Prussia, but as an unpretending citizen’s wife; she thought how oft
+with privations, with want even, she had had to combat; how oft the
+ornaments which the prince had sent her in the rare days of abundance
+had been taken to the pawnbrokers to provide the necessary wants of
+herself and children. Her eyes flashed with pride and joy at the thought
+which she dared to breathe to herself, that not for gold or riches,
+power or position, had she sold her love, her honor, and her good name.
+
+“It was from pure affinity, from gratitude and affection, that I
+followed the husband of my heart, although he was a prince,” she said.
+
+Still the shame of her existence weighed upon her. The king had
+commanded her to hide her head so securely that no one might know her
+shame, or the levity of the prince.
+
+“Go! and let me never see you again!”
+
+Did not this mean that the king would remove her so far that there
+would not be a possible chance to appear again before him? Was there not
+hidden in these words a menace, a warning? Would not the king revenge
+on her the sad experiences of his youth? Perhaps he would punish her
+for what Doris Ritter had suffered! Doris Ritter! She, too, had loved a
+crown prince--she, too, had dared to raise her eyes to the future King
+of Prussia, for which she was cruelly punished, though chaste and pure,
+and hurled down to the abyss of shame for the crime of loving an heir to
+the throne. Beaten, insulted, and whipped through the streets, and then
+sent to the house of correction at Spandau! Oh, poor, unhappy Doris
+Ritter! Will the king atone to you--will he revenge the friend of his
+youth on the mistress of his successor? The old King Frederick, weary
+of life, thinks differently from the young crown prince. He can be as
+severe as his father, cruel and inexorable as he.
+
+“Doris Ritter! Thy fate haunts me. On the morrow I also may be whipped
+through the streets, scorned, reviled by the rabble, and then sent to
+Spandau as a criminal. Did not the king threaten me with the house of
+correction, with the spinning-wheel, which he would have ready for me?”
+
+At the thought of it a terrible anguish, a nameless despair, seized
+her. She felt that the spinning-wheel hung over her like the sword of
+Damocles, ready at the least occasion to fall upon her, and bind her to
+it. She felt that she could not endure such suspense and torture; she
+must escape; she must rescue herself from the king’s anger.
+
+“But whither, whither! I must fly from here, from his immediate
+proximity, where a motion of his finger is sufficient to seize me, to
+cause me to disappear before the prince could have any knowledge of it,
+before he could know of the danger which threatened me. I must away from
+Potsdam!”
+
+The prince had arranged a little apartment in Berlin for the winter
+months, which she exchanged for Potsdam in the spring. This seemed to
+offer her more security for the moment, for she could fly at the least
+sign of danger, could even hide herself from the prince, if it were
+necessary to save him and herself. Away to Berlin, then! That was the
+only thought she was able to seize upon. Away with her children, before
+misfortune could reach them!
+
+She sprang to the door, tore it open, rushing to the nurse, upon
+whose knees the baby slept, near whom her little daughter knelt. With
+trembling hands she took her boy and pressed him to her heart. “Louisa,
+we must leave here immediately; it is urgent necessity!” said she, with
+quivering lip. “Do not say a word about it to any one, but hasten; order
+quickly a wagon, bargain for the places, and say we must set off at
+once. The wagon must not be driven to the door, but we will meet it at
+the Berlin Gate. We will go on foot there, and get in. Quick, Louisa,
+not a word--it must be!”
+
+The servant did not dare to oppose her mistress, or contradict the
+orders, but hastened to obey them.
+
+“It is all the old king’s fault,” said Louisa to herself, as she hurried
+through the street. “Yes, the king has ordered mistress to Berlin. He
+looked so furious, the old bear! His eyes flashed so terribly, one might
+well fear him, and I thanked Heaven when mamselle sent me home from the
+park. It is coming to a bad end at last; I should have done better not
+to have taken the place at all. Oh, if we were only away from here; if I
+only could find a wagon to take us!”
+
+Thanks to the nurse’s fears and endeavors, the wagon was soon found, and
+scarcely an hour had passed before Wilhelmine Enke, her two children and
+nurse, were hidden under a plain linen-covered wagon, and on their way
+to Berlin.
+
+The street was unusually animated, as the division of troops which the
+king had reviewed in Berlin, were marching out of the city to report
+themselves on the Bavarian frontier. Their first night’s quarters were
+to be in Potsdam, and the last great parade was to take place there on
+the following morning, before the king commenced his journey. The driver
+had often to halt at the side of the street to let the troops pass,
+which with a full band of music, came marching on. At the head of one
+of the regiments, mounted upon a fiery steed, was a general in brilliant
+uniform, his breast covered with orders, which glittered in the sun. He
+was tall and rather corpulent, but appeared to advantage. His carriage
+was proud and imposing, his face was almost too youthful for a general,
+and his body too corpulent for the expressive and delicate features. As
+he passed by the poor, unpretending carriage, where Wilhelmine sat with
+her children, she heard distinctly his beautiful, sonorous voice, and
+merry laugh. “Oh Heaven, it is he!--it is he!” she murmured, drawing
+herself farther back into the wagon with her children. Just then, out of
+an opening in the linen cover, Louisa peeped, whispering, “Mamselle, it
+is the Prince of Prussia!”
+
+“Be quiet--for mercy’s sake be quiet, Louisa, that we may not be
+remarked!” said Wilhelmine, gently. “Take the child that he may not
+scream, for if the prince should hear him he will turn back. He knows
+the voice of his little son!”
+
+“Yes, he knows the voice of his little son!” muttered the nurse, as
+she laid the child to her breast. “The little son must stop here on
+the street, in a miserable wagon, while his noble father rides past, so
+splendid and glittering with gold, not knowing that his little boy is so
+near him. Oh, a real trouble and a real heart-sorrow is this!”
+
+“Indeed it is,” said Wilhelmine, in her heart, “a real trouble and a
+real heart-sorrow. How all these men would present arms, and salute my
+children, if they had been born to a throne instead of obscurity! How
+they would bow and bend, if I were called Louisa of Hesse-Darmstadt, and
+the lawful wife of the prince! Did they not also bend and bow before
+the first wife, Elizabeth von Braunschweig, [Footnote: The first wife
+of Prince Frederick William of Prussia was the Princess Elizabeth von
+Braunschweig, the niece of Frederick the Great. The crown prince was
+scarcely twenty-one years of age when betrothed to her. After four years
+they were separated, on account of the improper conduct of the princess,
+who was banished to Stettin. There she lived until her death in 1840,
+after seventy-one years of imprisonment. Never during these seventy-one
+years had the Princess ‘Lisbeth’, as she was called, dared to leave
+Stettin. There she was obliged to amuse herself. Her concerts and
+evening entertainments were celebrated. The second wife of the crown
+prince of Prussia was Louisa of Hesse-Darmstadt, the mother of Frederick
+William III. She died in 1805.] although every one knew of her shameful
+conduct--knew of her intrigues with lackeys and common soldiers? Do
+they not now bow before her, although she is banished to Stettin for her
+infamous conduct, and lives there a prisoner? A fine imprisonment that!
+The whole town is her prison, and when she appears in public every one
+stands upon the street to salute the crown princess of Prussia. But
+when they see me they pass carelessly by, or they look at me with a
+contemptuous laugh, and fancy themselves miracles of virtue, and free
+from sin. My only crime is that my father was not a prince, and that I
+am of low birth. Am I to blame for that--to blame that the man whom I
+love, and who loves me, cannot marry me and make me his lawful wife?”
+
+“Ho! gee, ho!” cried the driver to his horses. “Get up!” The troops had
+passed, the highway was now free, and uninterrupted rolled the heavy,
+creaking wagon into Berlin. Within all was quiet. The two children and
+nurse were asleep. The driver was half asleep, his head hung shaking
+about; only now and then he started to give his horses a crack, which
+the thin, wheezing animals did not heed in the least. Wilhelmine alone
+slept not; in her soul there was no quiet, no peace. She grumbled
+at fate, and at mankind. An unspeakable anxiety seized her for the
+immediate future, and fear of the king’s anger. As the sun was setting
+they reached Berlin, and were entering the town, when the guard, in
+royal livery, sprang through the gate, calling, in a loud voice, to the
+wagon, “Halt--halt! Turn out of the way!” Then was heard the call of
+the sentinel, and the roll of the drums. An equipage, drawn by six black
+steeds, drove past. A pale, young wife, splendidly attired, leaned back
+in the carriage, and the little flag-bearer, Prince Frederick William,
+was by her side; on the seat opposite sat the second son, Prince Louis,
+and the lord steward. In this beautiful equipage drove the Princess of
+Prussia; at her side, in a miserable linen-covered wagon, crouching far
+in the corner, sat Wilhelmine Enke, the rival of the princess; near her,
+her two children, whose existence condemned her, and stamped her
+life with dishonor. Like a dream the brilliant apparition rushed past
+Wilhelmine, and it haunted her through the long streets, to the humble
+home where she sought a temporary refuge. And when finally alone, in
+her own room, where no one could spy into her face, nor understand her
+words, there broke forth from her soul a long-repressed wrong. She stood
+erect; a proud, insolent smile played around her mouth. “I am his wife,
+too; I alone am his beloved wife,” said she, with a loud, triumphant
+voice, “and my children are his only truly-beloved children, for they
+are those of his love. How proudly she drove past me! How beautiful is
+her pale face, and how interesting her sad smile! She in sunlight, and
+I in shade! She knows that I am her rival, but she is not mine. No, the
+Princess of Prussia cannot rival Wilhelmine Enke. I have no fear of her.
+But the king I have to fear,” cried she suddenly, shrinking with terror.
+In the meeting with the princess she had forgotten him, her anguish,
+her anxiety for the future. All were forgotten for the moment--to be
+recalled with renewed terror.
+
+“Thank Heaven,” she said, “I have escaped. For the moment I am safe!
+What will the prince do, when he finds that we have fled from Potsdam?
+Will he divine where we have gone? Will he come to seek me? If he still
+loves me--if I am really the happy rival of his wife and every other
+court lady--yes, then he will come. Then he will know where to find his
+Wilhelmine. But if it is true, what malicious people have repeated to
+me, with feigned sympathy, that the prince loves another--that he has
+withdrawn his love from me, is indifferent and cold--then he will not
+seek me; then I shall remain here alone!--alone, with my children, this
+long, fearful night! What, then, if I am alone? No, oh, no! I will
+not believe that I am forsaken. These are wicked thoughts which haunt
+me--only the agitation of this dreadful day, which imagination has
+overwrought. Rise up and be strong! Go to thy children,” said she, “and
+read in their eyes that he can never leave thee!”
+
+Forcing herself to composure, she sought her children; found Louisa
+humming and singing her little boy to sleep, and her daughter nodding,
+on a low stool at her feet.
+
+“Come, my child, I will put you to sleep,” said the mother, lifting her
+in her arms. “Your mother will make your bed softly. When you sleep and
+speak with the angels, intercede for us all.”
+
+With tender care she undressed her and bore her gently in her arms to
+her bed, and, kneeling before it, breathed a prayer over her sleeping
+child; then bent over the cradle of her son, blessing and kissing him.
+“Sleep my boy, sleep. I know not that I shall ever see thy beautiful
+eyes open again--whether I shall ever again press thee to my heart. Who
+can tell if they may not come this very night to remove me to prison--to
+punish me for you, my children, my beloved children!--Be calm, be calm!
+I shall remain here until morning, at least,” added she.
+
+She turned to the nurse, who, with anxious face and folded hands, stood
+at the farthest corner of the room. “Go, now, Louisa--go, and take
+something to eat. You must be hungry and tired. Buy at the next store
+what you need; but do not stop to talk with any one or repeat my name.
+Then return quickly, and take care of the children. Do not trouble
+yourself about me--I need nothing more.”
+
+“But you must eat something, mamselle; you must have some supper!”
+
+Wilhelmine shook her head, refusing, and returned quickly to her own
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE OATH OF FIDELITY.
+
+
+Long after nightfall the nurse heard her mistress rapidly pacing her
+room, and talking aloud to herself. Soon, however, Sleep spread her
+soothing wings over Louisa, and she heard no more the rapid steps
+and loud talking of her mistress, nor the rolling of a carriage which
+stopped before the door, and the quick, vigorous steps of a man mounting
+the stairs. But Wilhelmine heard them. Breathless she stood, listening
+to the approaching footsteps, for she felt that they had to decide her
+future--the weal and woe of her children! Was it he, her beloved, the
+father of her children? or was it the king’s bailiff who had followed
+her, and came to seize her?
+
+Nearer they came; the bell was hastily, violently rung. Wilhelmine
+uttered a cry of delight. She recognized the voice, the commanding
+manner, and rushed through the anteroom to open the door. The prince
+encircled her in his arms, pressed her to his beating heart, and,
+lifting her up, bore her into the room.
+
+“Why did you leave Potsdam, Wilhelmine? Tell me quickly, why did you
+do it?” asked the prince, tenderly kissing her, as he sat her upon the
+divan at his side. Overcome with her tears, she could not answer. “What
+mean these tears? Has any one dared to wound your feelings or injure
+you?”
+
+“Yes, Frederick, and he who injures me hazards nothing--for it is the
+king! I met him in the park at Potsdam this morning. He has crushed
+me with his scorn and anger. He has threatened me with a fearful
+punishment--no less than the house of correction at Spandau! He has
+told me that the spinning-wheel is in readiness for me if I excite his
+further contempt.”
+
+A cry of fury escaped the prince. Springing up, he paced the room with
+rapid strides. Wilhelmine remained upon the divan, but her tears did not
+prevent her following the prince with a searching glance--to read his
+face, pale with rage. “I must bear it,” he cried, beating his forehead.
+“I cannot protect those that I love!”
+
+A ray of joy lighted up Wilhelmine’s face as she listened, but
+it disappeared with the tears which flowed afresh. “I am a poor,
+unfortunate child,” she sobbed, “whom every one despises, and fears not
+to injure, who has no one to counsel or protect her, and who is lost if
+God does not have compassion upon her.”
+
+The prince rushed to her, seizing both hands. “Wilhelmine, do not drive
+me mad with sorrow,” he cried, trembling with excitement and anger. “Is
+it my fault that I cannot protect you against him? Have I not defended
+you from all the rest of the world? Have I ever allowed any one to treat
+you with contempt?”
+
+“I have never given occasion for it, dearest. I have studiously avoided
+all men, to escape their contempt and scorn. Shame is hard to bear,
+fearfully hard. I felt it today, as his beautiful eyes flashed upon me
+with contempt, as his haughty language crushed me to the earth. This
+is the yoke, Frederick William, that I and my children must bear to our
+graves!”
+
+“No, Wilhelmine, not as long as we live--only while he lives! Wait, only
+wait; let me rise from want and slavery; let the day come which makes
+me free--which exalts me: my first act will be to lift the yoke from you
+and our children, and woe to those--a thousand times woe to those who
+would hold it fast! Only be patient, Wilhelmine, submit, and bear with
+me the hard and distressing present. Tell me, my child, my loved one,
+why did you leave Potsdam so suddenly?”
+
+“I was afraid, Frederick. A kind of madness seized me at the thought
+of the king’s bailiffs carrying me off to Spandau; a nameless anxiety
+confused my mind, and I only realized that I must escape--that I must
+conceal myself. I felt in greater security here than at Potsdam for the
+night.”
+
+“And you fled without leaving me any sign or message to tell me
+whither you had gone! Oh, Wilhelmine, what if I had not divined your
+hiding-place, and had awaited at Potsdam in painful anxiety?”
+
+“Then I should have fled from here at daybreak, leaving my children,
+and in some quiet, obscure retreat have concealed myself from every
+eye--even your own.”
+
+“Would you have hidden yourself from me?” cried the prince, encircling
+her in his arms, and pressing her to his heart.
+
+“Yes, Frederick, when your heart did not prompt you where to find me,
+then it would have been a proof that you were indifferent to me. When
+I cannot lean upon your love, then there is no longer any protection or
+abiding-place for me in the world, and the grave will be my refuge.”
+
+“But you see my heart revealed you to me, and I am here,” said the
+prince, smiling.
+
+“Yes, Heaven be praised, you have come to me,” she cried, exultingly,
+throwing her arms about his neck, and kissing him passionately. “You are
+here; I no longer dread the old king’s anger, and his fearful words fall
+as spent arrows at my feet. You are here, king of my heart; now I have
+only one thing to dread.”
+
+“What is that, Wilhelmine?”
+
+She bent close to his ear, and whispered: “I fear that you are untrue
+to me; that there is some ground for truth in those anonymous letters,
+which declare that you would discard me and my children also, for you
+love another--not one other, but many.”
+
+“Jealousy, again jealous!” the prince sighed.
+
+“Oh, no,” said she, tenderly, “I only repeat what is daily written me.”
+
+“Why do you read it?” cried the prince, vehemently. “Why do you quaff
+the poison which wicked, base men offer you? Why do you not throw such
+letters into the fire, as I do when they slander you to me?”
+
+“Because you know, Frederick,” she answered, proudly and earnestly--“you
+must know that that which they write against me is slander and
+falsehood. My life lies open before you; every year, every day, is like
+an unsullied page, upon which but one name stands inscribed--Frederick
+William--not Prince Frederick William. What does it benefit me that you
+are a prince? If you were not a prince, I should not be despised, my
+children would not be nameless, without fortune, and without justice.
+No, were you not a prince, I should not have felt ashamed and
+grief-stricken, with downcast eyes, before the lady who drove past in
+her splendid carriage, while I was humbly seated in a miserable wagon.
+No, were not my beloved a prince, he could have made me his wife, could
+have given me his name, and I should to-day be at his side with my
+children. Then, what benefit is it to me that you are a prince? I love
+you not that you are one, but notwithstanding it. And if I love you in
+spite of all this, you must know that my affection is ever-enduring and
+ever-faithful--that I can never forget you, never abandon you.”
+
+“And do you believe, Wilhelmine, that I could ever abandon or forsake
+you? Is it not the same with me?”
+
+She shook her head, sadly answering: “No, Frederick, it is unfortunately
+not the same. You have loved me, and perhaps you love me still, but with
+that gentle warmth which does not hinder glowing flames to kindle near
+it, and with their passionate fire overpower the slight warmth.”
+
+“It may be so for the moment, I grant it,” the prince answered,
+thoughtfully; “but the quick, blazing fire soon consumes itself, leaving
+only a heap of ashes; then one turns to the gentle warmth with inward
+comfort, and rejoices in its quiet happiness.”
+
+“You confess loving another?” said Wilhelmine, sorrowfully.
+
+“No, I do not grant that,” the prince cried; “but you are a sensible,
+clever woman, and you know my heart is easily excited. It is only the
+meteoric light of the ignis fatuus, soon extinguished. Let it dance and
+flicker, but remember that the only warmth which cheers and brightens my
+heart is your love and friendship. You are my first and only love, and
+you will be my last--that I swear to you, and upon it you can rely.
+Every thing is uncertain and wavering in life. They have ruined me,
+lacerated my heart, and there is nothing more in the world which I
+honor. Only sycophants and hypocrites surround me, who speculate upon
+my future greatness; or spies, who would make their fortune today, and
+therefore spy and hang about me, in order to be paid by the reigning
+king, and who slander me in order to be favorites of his. No one at
+court loves me, not even my wife. How should she? She is well aware that
+I married her only at the command of my royal uncle, and she accepted me
+almost with detestation, for they had related to her the unhappiness of
+my first marriage, and the happiness of my first love! She has learned
+the story of my first wife, Elizabeth von Braunschweig, and that of my
+only love, Wilhelmine Enke! She obeyed, like myself, the stern command
+of another, and we were married, as all princes and princesses are,
+and we have had children, as they do. We lead the life of a political
+marriage, but the heart is unwed. We bow before necessity and duty,
+and, believe me, those are the only household gods in the families of
+princes. Happy the man who, besides these stern divinities, possesses
+a little secret temple, in which he can erect an altar to true love and
+friendship, and where he can enjoy a hidden happiness. This I owe to
+you, Wilhelmine; you are the only one in whom I have confidence, for
+you have proved to me that you love me without self-interest and without
+ambition. You have said it, and it is true, you love me, notwithstanding
+I am a prince. I confess to you, there are many lovely women of the
+court who are your rivals, and who would try to separate us in order
+to attract me to themselves. They are beautiful and seductive, and I am
+young and passionate; and if these lovely women have no respect for my
+dignity as a married man, how then should I have it, who married
+for duty, not for love? But there is one whom I respect for
+disinterestedness and fidelity! Do you not know who alone is
+disinterested and faithful?--who has never seen in me the prince, the
+future king--only the beloved one, the man--one who has never wavered,
+never counted the cost?--that you are, Wilhelmine Enke, therefore we are
+inseparable, and you have not to fear that I can ever forsake you, even
+if I am sometimes entangled in the magic nets of other beautiful
+women. The chains which bind us together cannot be torn asunder, for
+a wonderful secret power has consecrated them with the magic of true
+love--of heart-felt friendship.”
+
+“Still they are chains, dearest,” sighed Wilhelmine. “You have named
+them thus! The chains will at last oppress you, and you will forget the
+magic power which binds you, and will be free. No holy bond, no oath,
+no marriage tie--nothing but your love binds you to me. I rejoice in it,
+and so long as you do not forsake me, I am conscious that it is your own
+free choice and not force which retains you.”
+
+“I will give you an outward sign of our bond of union,” cried the
+prince. “I will do it today, as a twofold danger hangs over us--the king
+menaces you, and war menaces me.”
+
+“Is it then true, do you go with the king to the field?” groaned
+Wilhelmine.
+
+“Do you wish me to remain?” cried the prince, his eyes flashing. “Shall
+I here seek pleasure, with effeminate good nature, while the king, in
+spite of his age, exposes himself to all the fatigue of a campaign
+and the danger of battle? This war of the Bavarian succession is
+unfortunate, and no one knows whether the German empire will derive any
+important advantage from our sustaining by force of arms a little duchy.
+It is a question whether it would not be better to abolish the little
+principalities, in order to strengthen the greater German powers. The
+king will support Bavaria, because he envies Austria its possession,
+and, as he has decided upon war, it becomes his crown prince to yield
+to his decision without murmuring. Therefore, Wilhelmine, I will today
+witness to you the oath of fidelity. If God calls me to Him, if I fall
+in battle, this oath will be your legacy. I have nothing else to leave
+you, thanks to the parsimony of my noble uncle. I am a very poor crown
+prince, with many debts and little money, and not in a condition to
+reward your love and fidelity otherwise than with promises and hopes,
+and letters of credit for the future. Such a bill of exchange I will
+write for you--a legacy for my dear Wilhelmine. Give me pen and paper.”
+
+Wilhelmine hastened to her writing table and brought him paper with
+writing materials. “There, my Frederick,” said she, “there is every
+thing necessary--only the ink, I fear, may be dried.”
+
+The prince shook his head, smiling. “Such a lover’s oath as I will
+transcribe for you can be written with no common ink. See, here is my
+ink!”
+
+The prince had suddenly made a slight incision in his arm, and, as the
+blood gushed out, he dipped his pen in it, and wrote; then handed it
+to Wilhelmine, saying: “Read it here, in the presence of God and
+ourselves.”
+
+Wilhelmine pressed it to her lips, and read, with a solemn voice: “‘By
+my word of honor as a prince, I will never forsake you, and only death
+shall separate you from me.--Prince Frederick William of Prussia.’”
+ [Footnote: “Memoires of the Countess Lichtenau.” p. 120.]
+
+“By my word of honor as a prince, I will never forsake you, and only
+death shall separate me from you,” repeated the prince, as he bent over
+Wilhelmine, lifting her in his arms and placing her upon his knee. “Take
+the paper and guard it carefully,” said he. “When I die, and you have
+closed my eyes, as I trust you will, give this paper to my son and
+successor, for it is my legacy to you, and I hope my son will honor it
+and recognize in you the wife of my heart, and care for you.”
+
+“Oh! speak not of dying, Frederick,” cried Wilhelmine, embracing him
+tenderly; “may they condemn me, and imprison me as a criminal, when you
+are no more! What matters it to me what befalls me, when I no longer
+possess you, my beloved one, my master? Not on that account will I
+preserve the precious paper, but for the love which it has given me,
+and of which it will one day be a proof to my children. This paper is my
+justification and my excuse, my certificate and my declaration of honor.
+I thank you for it, for it is the most beautiful present that I have
+ever received.”
+
+“But will you make me no return, Wilhelmine? Will you not swear to me,
+as I have sworn to you?”
+
+She took the knife from the table without answering, and pointing it to
+her left arm--
+
+“Oh, not there!” cried the prince, as he sought to stay her hand. “Do
+not injure your beautiful arm, it would be a sacrilege.”
+
+Wilhelmine freed herself from him, as he sought to hold her fast, and
+in the mutual struggle the knife sank deep into her left hand, the blood
+gushing out. [Footnote: The scar of this wound remained her whole life,
+as Wilhelmine relates in her memoirs.--See “Memoires of the Countess
+Lichtenau.”]
+
+“Oh, what have you done?” cried the prince, terrified; “You are
+wounded!”
+
+He seized her hand and drew the knife from the wound, screaming with
+terror as a clear stream of blood flowed over his own. “A physician!
+Send quickly for a physician,” cried he. “Where are my servants?”
+
+Wilhelmine closed his lips at this instant with a kiss, and forced
+herself to smile in spite of the pain which the wound caused her.
+“Dearest, it is nothing,” she cried. “I have only prepared a great
+inkstand--let me write!”
+
+She dipped her pen in the blood, which continued to flow, and wrote
+quickly a few lines, handing them to the prince.
+
+“Read aloud what you have written. I will hear from your own mouth your
+oath. You shall write it upon my heart with your lips.”
+
+Wilhelmine read: “By my love, by the heads of my two children, I swear
+that I will never forsake you--that I will be faithful to you unto
+death, and will never separate myself from you; that my friendship and
+love will endure beyond the grave; that I will ever be contented and
+happy so long as I may call myself your Wilhelmine Enke.”
+
+“I accept your oath, dearest,” said the prince, pressing her to his
+heart. “This paper is one of my choicest jewels, and I will never
+separate myself from it. We have now sealed our love and fidelity with
+our blood, and I hope that you will never doubt me again. Remember this
+hour!”
+
+“I will,” she earnestly promised, “and I swear to you never to torment
+and torture you again with my jealousy. I shall always know, and shall
+hold fast to it, that you will return to me.”
+
+A violent knocking on the house door interrupted the stillness of the
+night. A voice in loud, commanding tones called to the night-watch.
+
+“Here I am!” answered the porter. “Who calls me? And what is the
+matter?”
+
+“Open the door,” commanded the voice again.
+
+“It is our house,” whispered Wilhelmine, who had softly opened the
+window. “It is so dark, I can only see a black shadow before the door.”
+
+“Do you belong to the house?” asked the night-watch. “I dare let no one
+in who does not belong there.”
+
+“Lift up your lantern, and look at my livery. It is at the king’s
+order!”
+
+Wilhelmine withdrew from the window, and hastened to the prince, who had
+retired to the back part of the room.
+
+“It is Kretzschmar, the king’s footman and spy,” she whispered. “Hide
+yourself, that he does not discover you. Go there to the children.”
+
+“No, Wilhelmine, I will remain here. I--”
+
+Wilhelmine pressed her hand upon his mouth, and forced him into the
+side-room, bolting the door.
+
+“Now,” said she, “I will meet my fate with courage; whatever may come,
+it shall find me firm and composed. My children are safe, for their
+father is with them.”
+
+She took the light, and hastened into the anteroom, which was resounding
+with the loud ringing.
+
+“Who is there?” she cried. “Who rings so late at night?”
+
+“In the name of the king, open!”
+
+Wilhelmine shoved back the bolt, opening the door.
+
+“Come in,” she said, “and tell me who you are.”
+
+“I think you recognize me,” said Kretzschmar, with an impudent smile.
+“You have often seen me at Potsdam in company with the king. I saw you
+this morning as the king did you the honor to speak with you, and I
+believe did not compliment you.”
+
+“Did his majesty send you here to say this to me?”
+
+“No, not exactly that,” answered he, smiling; “but, as you asked me, I
+was obliged to answer. I have come here with all speed as courier
+from Potsdam. I hope you will at least give me a good trinkgeld. I was
+commanded to deliver into your own hands this paper, for which I must
+have a receipt.” He drew from his breast pocket a large sealed document,
+which he handed to Wilhelmine. “Here is the receipt all ready, with the
+pencil; you have only to sign your name, and the business is finished.”
+ He stretched himself with an air of the greatest ease upon the cane
+chair, near the door.
+
+Wilhelmine colored with anger at the free conduct of the royal footman,
+and hastened to sign the receipt to rid herself of the messenger, and to
+read the letter.
+
+“What will you give me for trinkgeld, Mamselle Enke?” asked the footman,
+as she gave him the receipt.
+
+“Your own rudeness and insult,” answered Wilhelmine proudly, as she
+turned, without saluting him, to the sitting-room.
+
+Kretzschmar laughed aloud. “She will play the great and proud lady,”
+ said he. “She will get over that when in prison. The letter is without
+doubt an order of arrest, for when the king flashes and thunders as he
+did this morning, he usually strikes. I hope it will agree with you.” He
+slowly left the anteroom, and descended the stairs to mount his horse,
+which he had bound to a tree.
+
+Wilhelmine hastened in the mean time to the prince. “Here is the letter
+addressed to me,” said she, handing him the sealed envelope. “I beg you
+to open it; courage fails me, everything trembles and swims before my
+eyes. Read it aloud--I will receive my sentence from your lips.”
+
+The prince exclaimed, breaking the seal: “It is the handwriting of the
+secret cabinet secretary, Menken, and the message comes immediately from
+the king’s cabinet. Now, Wilhelmine, do not tremble; lean your head upon
+me, and let us read.”
+
+“‘In the name of his majesty, Wilhelmine Enke is commanded, under
+penalty of severe punishment, not to leave her room or her dwelling,
+until the king shall permit her, and send some one to take her and all
+that belongs to her to her place of destination. She shall receive
+this order with patience and humility, and consider her apartment as a
+prison, which she shall not leave under severe penalty, nor allow any
+one to enter it. Whoever may be with her at the time of receiving the
+order, who do not belong there, shall speedily absent themselves, and if
+the same ride or drive to Potsdam, they shall immediately take a message
+to his royal highness the Prince of Prussia, and announce to him that
+his majesty expects him at Sans-Souci at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.
+The Minister von Herzberg will be in waiting to confer with the prince.
+The above is communicated to Wilhelmine Enke for her strict observance,
+and she will act accordingly.’”
+
+A long silence followed the reading of this letter. Both looked down,
+thoughtfully recalling the contents.
+
+“A prisoner,” murmured Wilhelmine, “a prisoner in my own house.”
+
+“And for me the peremptory command to leave immediately for Potsdam, in
+order to be at Sans-Souci early in the morning. What can the king mean?”
+
+“He will announce to you my imprisonment, my exile,” sighed Wilhelmine.
+
+The crown prince shook his head. “No,” said he, “I do not believe it. If
+the king would send you to prison, he would not make such preparation;
+he would not commence with the house arrest, as if you were an officer,
+who had been guilty of some slight insubordination, but he would act
+with decision, as is his wont. He would at once have sent you to Spandau
+or some other prison, and left it to me to have taken further steps.
+No--the more I think it over, the more evident it is to me that the king
+is not really angry; he will only torment us a little, as it pleases his
+teasing spirit. The chief thing now is to obey, and give him no
+further occasion for anger. You must be very careful not to leave your
+apartment, or to allow any one to enter it. I shall start without delay
+for Potsdam. There are spies posted as well for you as myself; our steps
+are watched, and an exact account of them given. I must away quickly.”
+
+“Must you leave me a prisoner? Oh, how hard and cruel life is!”
+
+“Yes, it is, indeed, Wilhelmine. But I must also humbly submit and obey.
+Is not life hard for me, and yet I am crown prince, the heir to the
+throne! I shall be reprimanded and scolded like a footman. I must obey
+as a slave, and am not permitted to act according to my will. I am only
+a mere peg in the great machine which he directs, and the--”
+
+“Hush! for mercy’s sake be quiet! What if some one should hear you? You
+know not if the spies may not be at the door.”
+
+“True,” said the prince, bitterly. “I do not know! The nurse even, who
+suckles our child, may be a paid spy. The owner of this house may be
+in the king’s service, and creep to the door to listen. Therefore it
+is necessary, above all things, that we act according to the king’s
+commands. Farewell, Wilhelmine, I must set off at once. Kretzschmar is
+no doubt at the corner of the street to see whether I, as an obedient
+servant of his master, leave here. If I do it, he will take the news to
+Sans-Souci, and perhaps the king will be contented. Farewell, I go at
+once to the palace, to start from there for Potsdam.”
+
+“Farewell, my beloved one! May God in heaven and the king upon earth be
+merciful to us! I will force myself to composure and humility. What I
+suffer is for you! This shall be my consolation. If we never meet again,
+Frederick William, I know you will not forget how much I have loved
+you!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. THE PARADE.
+
+
+Since early morning a gay, warlike life had reigned at Potsdam and
+the neighborhood of Sans-Souci. From every side splendid regiments
+approached, with proud and stately bearing, in glittering uniforms, to
+take in perfect order the places assigned to them. With flying banners,
+drums beating, and shrill blasts of trumpets, they came marching on
+to the great parade--the last, for the king was about to leave for the
+field. Thousands of spectators poured forth, notwithstanding the early
+hour, from Potsdam; and from Berlin even they came in crowds, to take
+a last look of the soldiers--of their king, who was still the hero at
+sixty-nine--the “Alto Fritz,” whom they adored--though they felt the
+rigor of his government. It was a magnificent spectacle, indeed--this
+immense square, filled with regiments, their helmets, swords, and gold
+embroideries glittering in the May sun. Officers, mounted on richly
+caparisoned steeds, drew up in the centre, or galloped along the front
+of the lines, censuring with a thundering invective any deviation or
+irregularity. In the rear of the troops stood the equipages of the
+distinguished spectators on the one side, while on the other the people
+in compact masses swayed to and fro, gayly passing judgment upon the
+different regiments and their generals. The people--that means all
+those who were not rich enough to have a carriage, or sufficiently
+distinguished to claim a place upon the tribune reserved for noble
+ladies and gentlemen--here they stood, the educated and uneducated,
+shoemaker and tailor, savant and artist--a motley mixture! Two gentlemen
+of the high citizen class apparently were among the crowd. They were
+dressed in the favorite style, which, since the “Sorrows of Werther” had
+appeared, was the fashion--tight-fitting boots, reaching to the knee,
+with yellow tops; white breeches, over which fell the long-bodied green
+vest; a gray frock with long pointed tails and large metal buttons,
+well-powdered cue, tied with little ribbons, surmounted with a low,
+wide-brimmed hat. Only one of the gentlemen wore the gray frock,
+according to the faultless Werther costume, a young man of scarcely
+thirty years, of fine figure, and proud bearing; a face expressive
+and sympathetic, reminding one of the glorious portraits of men which
+antiquity has bequeathed to us. It seemed like the head of a god
+descended to earth, noble in every feature, full of grace and beauty;
+the slightly Roman nose well marked yet delicate; the broad, thoughtful
+brow; the cheeks flushed with the hue of youth and power; the
+well-defined chin and red lips, expressive of goodness, benevolence,
+roguery, and haughtiness; large, expressive eyes, flashing with the
+fire which the gods had enkindled. His companion was perhaps eight years
+younger, less well-proportioned, still of graceful appearance, in his
+youthful freshness, with frank, cheerful mien, clever, good-natured,
+sparkling eyes, and red, pouting lips, which never liked to cease
+chatting.
+
+“See, Wolff! I beg,” said the young man, “see that old waddling duck,
+Mollendorf. I know the old fellow, he is from Gotha; he imagines himself
+of the greatest importance, and thinks Prussia begets fame and honor
+from his grace. He trumpets forth his own glories at a dinner, and
+abuses his king. He makes Frederick the Great an insignificant little
+being, that he may look over him.”
+
+“Unimportant men always do that,” answered the other. “They would make
+great men small, and think by placing themselves on high pedestals they
+become great. The clown striding through the crowd on his stilts may
+even look over an emperor. But fortunately there comes a time when
+the dear clown must come down from his stilts, and then it is clear
+to others, if not to himself, what little, earth-born snips the men of
+yesterday are.”
+
+“Only look, Wolff, there is just such a moment coming to that stiltsman
+Mollendorf. How the great man stoops, and how small he looks on his gray
+horse, for a greater springs past! Look at him well, Wolff--we shall
+dine with him, and he does not like to be stared at in the face.”
+
+“Is that, then, Prince Henry passing?” asked Wolff, with animation;
+“That little general, who just galloped into the circle with his suite,
+is that the king’s brother?”
+
+“Yes, that is just his misfortune that he is the king’s brother,”
+ answered a deep, sonorous voice behind them.
+
+Turning, they beheld a young, elegantly dressed man, in the light gray
+frock and gold-bordered, three-cornered hat, and a Spanish cane, with an
+ivory handle.
+
+“What did you remark, sir?” asked Herr Wolff; his great, brown eyes
+flashing over the pale, intellectual face of the other, so that he was
+quite confused, yet, as if enchanted, could not turn away. “What did you
+remark, sir?” asked again Herr Wolff.
+
+“I believe,” stammered the other, “that I said it was the misfortune
+of the prince that he was the brother only, as he was worthy of being
+mentioned for himself; but I beg, sir, be a little indulgent, and do not
+pry into my very soul with your godlike eyes. It will craze me, and
+I shall run through the streets of Berlin, crying that the
+Apollo-Belvedere has arrived at Potsdam, and invite all the poets and
+authors to come and worship him.”
+
+“I believe you are right,” cried the youngest of the two gentlemen,
+laughing. “I believe myself it is the Apollo-Belvedere.”
+
+“Be still, my dear sir, hush, and preserve our incognito,” interrupted
+his companion.
+
+“But I cannot help it, Wolff. Am I to blame that this clever fellow sees
+through your mask, and discovers the divine spark which hides itself
+under a gray Werther costume?”
+
+“I pray, sir, grant my request, and respect our incognito,” begged the
+other, gently but firmly.
+
+“Well, well, you shall have your way,” laughed the other,
+good-naturedly, and turning to the pale young man, who still kept his
+eyes fixed on Herr Wolff in a sort of ecstacy, he said: “Let the authors
+and poets stay in Berlin; we will persuade the disguised Apollo to meet
+them there, and read them a lecture, for among the Berlin poets and
+critics there are wicked heretics, who, if the Deity Himself wrote
+tragedies and verses, would find some fault to object to.”
+
+“Pray tell me, sir, do you think Prince Henry a great man?”
+
+“Did not the king call him so in his ‘History of the Seven Years’ War?’”
+ said the stranger. “Did he not publicly, in the presence of all his
+generals, say, ‘that Prince Henry was the only general who had not made
+a mistake during the whole war?’”
+
+“Do you believe the king will say that of the prince just riding in
+with his suite, after the present war?” asked the young man, with
+earnestness.
+
+“You mean the Prince of Prussia,” answered the other, shaking his head.
+“There are men who call this prince the ‘hope of Prussia,’ and regard
+him as a new Aurora in the clouded sky.”
+
+“And you, sir, do you regard him so?” cried Herr Wolff.
+
+“Do you mean that the Prince of Prussia will usher in a brighter day for
+Germany?”
+
+“No,” answered the other. “I believe that day expires with Frederick the
+Great, and that a long night of darkness will succeed.”
+
+“Why do you think so?”
+
+“Because it is the course of nature that darkness succeeds light. Look
+at the prince, gentlemen--the divine light of genius is not stamped
+upon his brow, as formerly, and care will be taken that it is soon
+extinguished altogether.”
+
+“Who will take care?”
+
+“Those who are the enemies of light, civilization, and freedom.”
+
+“Who are they?” asked Herr Wolff.
+
+The other smiled, and answered: “Sir, so far as I, in all humility,
+call myself a scholar, I also owe to the god Apollo obedience, and must
+answer him, though it may endanger me. I answer, then, the enemies of
+light and civilization are the disguised Jesuits.”
+
+“Oh, it is easy to perceive that you do not belong to them, or you would
+not thus characterize them, and--”
+
+A mighty flourish of drums, and shrill blasts of horns and trumpets,
+drowned the youth’s words, and made all further conversation impossible.
+The king, followed by a brilliant suite, had just arrived at the parade.
+The regiments greeted their sovereign with loud blasts of trumpets, and
+the people shouted their farewell. Frederick lifted lightly his hat,
+and rode along the ranks of the well-ordered troops. He listened to the
+shouts with calm, composed manner; the Jupiter-flashes from his great
+eyes seemed to be spent forever. Mounted upon Caesar, his favorite
+horse, he looked today more bent, his back more bowed with the burden
+of years; and it was plainly visible that the hand which held the staff
+crosswise over the horse’s neck, holding at the same time the bridle,
+trembled from very weakness.
+
+“That is Frederick,” said Herr Wolff to himself. “That is the hero
+before whom Europe has trembled; the daring prince who caused the sun to
+rise upon his country, and awaken the spirits to cheerful life. Oh, how
+lamentable; how much to be regretted, that a hero, too, can grow feeble
+and old! Oh, cruel fate, that the noblest spirits embodied in this
+fragile humanity, and--”
+
+Suddenly he ceased, and looked at the king amazed and with admiration.
+The old man had become the hero again. The bowed form was erect, the
+face beamed with energy and conscious power, the eyes flashed with bold
+daring, strong and sonorous was the voice. The king had turned to
+his generals, who were drawn up around him in a large circle, saying:
+“Gentlemen, I come to take leave of you. We shall meet again upon the
+battle-field, where laurels bloom for the brave. I hope that we may all
+return, crowned with fresh laurels. Tell my soldiers that I count upon
+them--that I know they will prove the glory of the Prussian troops
+anew, and that on the day of battle they will see me at their
+head.--Farewell!”
+
+“Long live the king!” cried the generals and staff officers, in one
+voice. The people and the soldiers joined the shout, the ladies waved
+their handkerchiefs. Herr Wolff and his companions tore off their hats
+with enthusiasm, and swung them high in the air.
+
+The great eyes of the king, who passed at this moment, rested upon Herr
+Wolff. “My heart quaked as if I were the pillar of Memnon, and had been
+touched by the sun’s rays,” sighed he, as he followed the king with his
+fiery glance.
+
+“The ceremony is now finished,” said the young man near him, “and we
+must leave, in order to be punctual to dinner at Prince Henry’s.”
+
+“I wish the king had remained an hour longer,” sighed Herr Wolff again.
+“As I looked at him, it seemed as if I were listening to a song from
+Homer, and all my faculties were in unison in delight and enthusiasm.
+Happy those who dare approach him, and remain near him!”
+
+“Then, according to your opinion, his servants must be very fortunate,”
+ said the stranger, “and yet they say that he is not very kind to them.”
+
+“Because the servant is a little man,” cried Herr Wolff, “and every one
+looks little to his belittling eyes.”
+
+“Yes, there are many others no more elevated than servants in the king’s
+surroundings,” said the other. The youth reminded him that they must
+leave.
+
+“Only wait a moment, friend,” begged Herr Wolff, as he turned to the
+stranger, saying, “I would like to continue our conversation of today.
+You live in Berlin. I will find you out if you will give me your name.”
+
+“I pray you to visit me; my name is Moritz. I live in Kloster Strasse,
+near the gray convent.”
+
+“Your name is Moritz?”, asked Herr Wolff, earnestly. “Then you are the
+author of the ‘Journey to England?’”
+
+“Yes, the same, and my highest encomium is, that the work is not unknown
+to you, or the name of the author.”
+
+“All Germany knows it, and do you think I could possibly remain a
+stranger to it?”
+
+“But your name, sir,” said the stranger, with anxious curiosity. “Will
+you not give me your name?”
+
+“I will tell you when we are in your own room,” said Herr Wolff,
+smiling.
+
+“The air is yet enchanted and intoxicated with the breath of the Great
+Frederick; it should not be desecrated with another name.--Farewell, we
+will meet in Berlin.”
+
+Not far from these gentlemen stood two others, wrapped in long military
+cloaks, both of striking and foreign appearance; the one, of slight
+delicate figure, of dark complexion, noble and handsome face, must be
+an Italian, as his very black hair and eyes betrayed; the other, tall,
+broad-shouldered, of Herculean stature, belonged to North Germany, as
+the blond hair, light blue eyes, and features indicated. A pleasing
+smile played around his thick, curled lips, and only when he glanced at
+his companion did it die away, and change to one of respectful devotion.
+At this instant the king passed. The Italian pressed the arm of his
+companion.
+
+“The arch fiend himself,” he murmured softly, “the demon of unbelief,
+to whom nothing is sacred, and nothing intimidates. The contemptuously
+smiling spirit of negation, which is called enlightenment, and is
+but darkness, to whom belief is superstition, and enlightening only
+deception. Woe to him!”
+
+“Woe to him!” repeated the other.
+
+The king was followed by his brilliant and select staff in motley
+confusion. First, Prince Henry, and then the Prince of Prussia. As the
+latter passed the two gentlemen, the Italian pressed the arm of his
+companion still harder. “Look at him attentively, my son,” said he,
+“that is our future and our hope in this country.”
+
+The Hercules turned hastily, with a look of astonishment, to the
+Italian. “The Prince of Prussia?” asked he, with amazement.
+
+The Italian nodded. “Do you doubt it?” he added, reproachfully. “Would
+you doubt your lord and master, because he reveals to you what you
+cannot seize with your clouded spirit?”
+
+“No, no, master, I am only surprised that you hope for good from this
+lost-in-sin successor to the throne.”
+
+“Yes, you are poor, human children,” sighed the Italian, compassionately
+smiling; “prompt to judge, mistaking light for darkness, and darkness
+for light. I have already remarked that to the celebrated and austere
+Minister Sully, as he complained to me of the levity and immorality of
+the French king, Henry IV. I told him that austere morals and moral laws
+suffered exceptions, and that those through whom the welfare of humanity
+should be furthered, had to transfer their heavenly bliss of love to the
+earthly sphere. Sully would contest the question with me, but I defeated
+him, while I repeated to him what the beautiful and unhappy Queen of
+Scotland, Mary Stuart, once said to me.”
+
+“Mary Stuart!” cried the other, vehemently.
+
+“Yes, Mary Stuart,” answered the Italian, earnestly. “Come, my son, let
+us go. We have seen what we wished to see, and that is sufficient. Give
+me thy arm, and let us depart.”
+
+They departed arm in arm, withdrawing from the crowd, and taking the
+broad walk which crossed to the park.
+
+“You were about to relate to me the answer which Mary Stuart gave to
+you, sir,” said the Hercules, timidly.
+
+“True; I will now relate it to you,” he answered, with sadness. “It was
+in Edinburgh I had surprised Mary (as I was admitted without ceremony),
+in her boudoir, as the handsome Rizzio sat at her feet, and sang
+love-songs to her. She was resting upon a gold-embroidered divan,
+and her figure appeared to great advantage in the heavenly blue,
+silver-embroidered gauze robe, which covered her beautiful limbs like
+a cloud. In her hair sparkled two diamonds, like two stars fallen from
+heaven, and more glowing still were her eyes, which tenderly rested upon
+Rizzio. Leaning upon her elbow, she inclined toward Rizzio, who, lute in
+hand, was looking up to her with a countenance expressive of the deepest
+love. It was a glorious picture, this young and charming couple, in
+their bliss of love; and never, in the course of this century, have I
+forgotten this exquisite picture--never have its bright tints faded from
+my memory. How often have I begged my friend, Antonio Vandyck, to make
+this picture eternal, with his immortal pencil. He promised to do it,
+but at the moment he was occupied with the portraits of Charles I. and
+his family--the grandson of Queen Mary. Later, as I was not with him,
+unfortunately, to save him, death seized him before he had fulfilled his
+promise. But her image is stamped upon my heart, and I see her now, as I
+saw her then, the beautiful queen, with the handsome singer at her feet.
+I had entered unawares, and stood a few moments at the door before they
+remarked me. As I approached, Rizzio suddenly ceased in the midst of a
+tender passage, and sprang to his feet. Mary signed to him, blushing,
+to withdraw. He glided noiselessly out, his lute under his arm, and I
+remained alone with the queen. I dared to chide her, gently, for her
+love affair with the handsome singer, and, above all, to exhort her to
+fidelity to her husband. Whereupon Mary answered me, with her accustomed
+smiling manner, ‘There is but one fidelity which one must recognize, and
+that is to the god of gods--Love! Where he is not, I will not be. The
+god Hymen is a tedious, pedantic fellow, who burns to ashes all the
+fresh young love of the heart, and all the enthusiasm of the soul, with
+his intolerable tallow torch, for Love stands not at his side. I am
+faithful to the god Amor, therefore I can never be faithful to the god
+Hymen, as it would be unfaithful to Love!’ That was the response of the
+beautiful Queen Mary. I could not contest the question, so I only looked
+at her and smiled. Suddenly, I felt a dagger, as it were, thrust at my
+heart, my spiritual eyes were opened, the lovely woman on the divan was
+fearfully changed. Instead of the gauze robe, sparkling with silver, a
+black cloth dress covered her emaciated limbs; instead of brilliants,
+sparkling in her hair, a mourning veil covered her whitened locks. The
+beauty and roundness of her neck had disappeared, and I saw around it a
+broad dark-red stripe. Her head moved, and fell at my feet dissevered.
+I saw it all, as distinctly as if it really happened, and seized with
+unspeakable pity I prostrated myself at her feet (who was unknowing
+of my vision), and besought her with all the anxiety and tenderness
+of friendship to leave Scotland, to fly from England, as there the
+death-tribunal awaited her. But Mary Stuart only laughed at my warning,
+and called me a melancholy fool, whom jealousy made prophetic. The more
+I begged and implored, the more wanton and gay the poor woman became.
+Then, as I saw all persuasion was vain, that no one could save her from
+her dreadful fate, I took a solemn oath that I would be at her side at
+the hour of her peril, and accompany her to the scaffold. Mary laughed
+aloud, and, with that mocking gayety so peculiarly her own, she accepted
+the oath, and reached me her white hand, sparkling with diamonds, to
+seal the vow with a kiss. I faithfully kept it. I had but just arrived
+in Rome when I received the account of her imprisonment. I presented
+myself immediately to the pope, the great Sixtus V., who then occupied
+the chair of St. Peter. Fortunately, he was my friend, and I had
+formerly been useful to him, in assisting him to carry out his great
+and liberal ideas for the welfare of humanity. As a return, I prayed the
+Holy Father to give me a consecrated hostie for the unhappy Queen Mary
+Stuart, and the permission to carry it to her in her prison. The Holy
+Father was incredulous of my sad presentiments, as Mary Stuart herself
+had been, but he granted me the request. I quitted Rome, and travelled
+with relays day and night. Reaching Boulogne, a Dover packet-boat had
+just raised anchor; I succeeded in boarding her, and arrived in London
+the next evening. The day following, the execution of the queen took
+place at Fotheringay. I was with her in her last hours, and from my hand
+she received the consecrated water of Pope Sixtus V. I had kept my oath.
+I accompanied her to the scaffold, and her head rolled at my feet, as I
+had seen it in my vision at Edinburgh. It was the 18th of April, 1587,
+and it seems to me as but yesterday. To the intuitive, seeing
+spirit, time and space disappear; eternity and immortality are to it
+omnipresent.”
+
+Given up to his souvenirs and visions, the Italian appeared not to know
+where he wandered, and turned unintentionally to the retired, lonely
+places in the park. His companion heeded not the way either, occupied
+with the strange account of the Italian. A dreadful feeling of awe and
+horror took possession of his soul, and, with devoted respect, he hung
+upon the words which fell from the lips of his companion.
+
+“It was in the year 1587,” said he, as the Italian ceased; “almost two
+hundred years since, and you were present?”
+
+The Italian replied: “I was present. I have witnessed so many dreadful
+scenes, and been present at so many executions, that this sad spectacle
+was not an unusual one to me, and would not have remained fixed in my
+memory had I not loved, devotedly and fervently, the beautiful Queen
+Mary Stuart. For those who live in eternity, all horrors have ceased;
+time rushes past in centuries, which seem to them but a day.”
+
+“Teach me so to live, master; I thirst for knowledge,” cried his
+companion, fervently.
+
+“I know it, my son; I penetrate thy soul, and I know that thou
+thirstest. Therefore I am here to quench thy thirst, and feed thy hungry
+heart.” He remained standing upon the grass-plot, which he had reached
+by lonely paths, and which was encircled by trees and bushes. Not a
+sound interrupted the peaceful morning stillness of the place, except
+the distant music of the departing regiments dying away on the air. “I
+will teach thee to live in eternity!” resumed the Italian, solemnly.
+“My predecessor the apostle, George Schrepfer, has initiated thee in
+temporal life, and the knowledge of the present. By the pistol-shot,
+which disclosed to him the invisible world, and removed him from our
+earthly eyes, has he to thee, his most faithful and believing disciple,
+given the great doctrine of the decay of all things earthly, and
+prepared thee for the doctrine of the imperishableness of the celestial.
+The original of humanity sends me, to make known to thee this holy
+doctrine. When I met thee in Dresden, at the side of the Countess
+Dorothea von Medem, thee, whom I had never seen, I recognized by the
+blue flame which trembled above thy head, and which was nothing else
+than the soul of thy teacher, Schrepfer, wrestling in anguish, which has
+remained with thee, and hopes for delivery from thee. I greeted thee,
+therefore, not as a stranger but as a friend. No one called thy name,
+and yet it was known to me. I took thee by the hand, greeting thee. Hans
+Rudolph von Bischofswerder, be welcome. The blue flame which glows
+upon thy brow, guides me to thee, and the pistol-shot under the oaks
+centuries old, at Rosenthal, near Leipsic, was the summons which my
+spirit received among the pyramids of Egypt, and which recalled me
+to Europe, to my own, and thou art one of them.”[Footnote: George
+Schrepfer, the founder of the Secret Free Mason Lodge (at the same
+time proprietor of a restaurant and a conjuror), invited his intimate
+disciples and believers in the year 1774, to whom Bischofswerder
+belonged, to meet him at Rosenthal, near Leipsic. He assembled them
+around him, beneath some old oaks, to take leave of them, as now he
+would render himself in the invisible realm, whence, as a spirit, he
+would distribute to some of his disciples gold, to others wisdom. He
+then commanded them to conceal their faces and pray. The praying ones
+suddenly heard a loud report, and, as they looked up Schrepfer fell
+dead. He had shot himself with a pistol.]
+
+“And as thou spakest, oh master, I recognized thee, and I called--’ Thou
+art here, who hast been announced to me. Thou art the master, and my
+master Schrepfer was the prophet, who preceded thee and prophesied thee.
+Thou art the great Kophta--thou art Count Alexander Cagliostro!’ As
+I uttered the name, the lights were extinguished, deep darkness and
+profound stillness reigned. The two countesses Dorothea von Medem and
+her sister, Eliza von der Necke, clung trembling to me, neither of them
+daring to break the silence even with a sigh. Suddenly the darkness
+disappeared, and, with trembling flashes of light, there stood written
+on the wall: ‘Memento Domini Oagliostro et omnis mansuetudinis ejus.’
+We sank upon our knees, and implored thee to aid us. By degrees the
+strange, secret characters disappeared, and darkness and silence
+reigned. The stillness disquieted me at last, and I called for lights.
+As the servant entered, the two countesses lay fainting upon the floor,
+and thou hadst disappeared.”
+
+“Only to appear to thee at another time,” said Cagliostro, “to receive
+thee with solemn ceremonies into the magic circle--to initiate thee in
+the secret wisdom of spirits, and prepare thee for the invisible lodge.
+Recall what I said to thee, three days since, in Dresden. Do you still
+remember it?”
+
+“I recall it. Thou saidst: ‘The secret service calls me to Mittau, with
+the Countess Medem, to raise hidden treasure, of which the spirit has
+given me knowledge, and decipher important magical characters on the
+walls of a cloister. Before I leave, I will lead thee upon the way which
+thou hast to follow in order to find the light, and let it illuminate
+the soul which is worthy. Follow me, and I will lead thee to the path of
+glory, power, and immortality.’ These were thy words, master.”
+
+“I have now led thee hither,” Cagliostro said to him, gently; “thy
+soul doubts and trembles, for thou art blind seeing eyes, and deaf with
+hearing ears.”
+
+“My soul doubts not, oh master--it comprehends not. I have followed
+thee, devotedly and believingly. Thou knowest it, master, for thou
+readest the souls of thy children, and seest their hidden thoughts.
+Thou hast said to me in Dresden, ‘Renounce your service to the Duke of
+Courland.’ I did it, and from equerry and lord chamberlain to the duke,
+became a simple, private gentleman. I have renounced my titles and
+dignities for thee, in happy trust in thee. My future lies in thy hands,
+and, anxious to learn the mysteries of immortality, as a grateful,
+trustful scholar, I would receive happiness and unhappiness at thy
+hand.”
+
+“Thou shalt receive not only happiness,” said Cagliostro, solemnly, “but
+thou art one of the elect. The blue flame glows upon thy brow, it will
+illuminate thy soul, and lead thee to the path of glory, power, and
+might. To-day thou art a simple, private gentleman, as thou sayst, but
+to-morrow thou wilt become a distinguished lord, before whom hundreds
+will bow. Fame awaits thee--which thou hast longed for--as power awaits
+thee. Whom have I named to thee as our future and our hope in this
+land?”
+
+“Prince Frederick William of Prussia,” answered Herr von Bischofswerder,
+humbly.
+
+“As I spake this name, thou trembledst, and calledst him ‘one lost in
+sin.’ Knowest thou, my son, from sin comes penitence, and from penitence
+elevation and purification. Thou art called and chosen to convert
+sinners, and lead back the earth-born child to heaven. Engrave these
+words upon thy memory, fill thy soul with them, as with glowing flames,
+repeat them in solitude the entire day, then heavenly spirits will
+arise and whisper the revelations of the future. Then, when thou art
+consecrated, I will introduce thee into the sacred halls of sublime
+wisdom. Thou shalt be received as a scholar in the temple hall, and it
+depends upon thee whether thou advancest to the altar which reaches to
+the invisible world of miracles.”
+
+“Oh, master,” cried Bisehofswerder, with a countenance beaming with joy,
+and sinking upon his knees, “wilt thou favor me, and introduce me to the
+temple hall? Shall I be received in the sacred world of spirits?”
+
+“Thou shalt, Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder. The grand master of our
+order will bestow upon thee this happiness, and to-night shall the star
+of the future rise over thee. Hold thyself in readiness. At midnight,
+present thyself at the first portal of the royal palace in Berlin. A
+man will meet thee, and thou shalt ask, ‘Who is our hope?’ If he answers
+thee, ‘The Prince of Prussia,’ then he is the messenger which I shall
+have sent thee--follow him. Bow thy head in humility, shut thine eyes
+to all earthly things, turn thy thoughts inward, and lift them up to
+the great departed, which hovers over thy head, and speak with the blue
+flame which glows upon thy brow!”
+
+Bischofswerder bowed still lower, covered his face with his hands, as
+if inwardly praying, and knelt. Cagliostro bent over him, laid his hand
+upon his head, breathing three times upon his blond hair.
+
+“I have breathed upon thee with the breath of my spirit,” said he. “Thy
+spirit receives power. Receive it in holy awe, in devotion, and remain
+immovable.”
+
+Bischofswerder continued motionless, with bowed head and concealed face.
+Cagliostro raised himself, his black eyes fixed upon his disciple,
+and noiselessly disappeared. Herr von Bischofswerder still remained
+kneeling. After some time he raised his head, shyly looking about, and,
+as he found himself alone, he rose. “He has soared away,” he murmured,
+softly. “I shall see him again, and he will consecrate me--the
+consecration of immortals!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR.
+
+
+The king withdrew from the parade slowly, followed by his generals, in
+the direction of Sans-Souci. The streets of Potsdam were lined with the
+people, shouting their farewell to the king, who received them with a
+smiling face. Arriving at the grand entrance, he turned to his suite,
+saying, “Gentlemen, we shall meet again in Bohemia; I must now take
+leave of you, and forego the pleasure of receiving you again to-day. A
+king about to leave for the field has necessary arrangements to make
+for the future. I have much to occupy me, as I set out early to-morrow
+morning. You, also, have duties to attend to. Farewell, gentlemen.”
+
+He raised his worn-out three-cornered hat, saluted his generals with a
+slight inclination of the head, and turned into the broad avenue which
+led to the park of Sans-Souci. No one followed him but two mounted
+footmen, who rode at a respectful distance, attentively regarding the
+king, of whom only the bowed back and hat were visible. Half way down
+the avenue his staff was raised above his hat, the sign the footmen
+awaited to dismount with the greyhounds, which rode before them upon the
+saddle. At the shrill barking of the animals, Frederick reined in his
+horse, and turned to look for them. They bounded forward, one upon
+each side of the king, who regarded them right and left, saying: “Well,
+Alkmene, well Diana, let us see who will be the lady of honor to-day.”
+
+Both dogs sprang with loud barking to the horse, as if understanding the
+words of their master. Alkmene, stronger, or more adroit, with one bound
+leaped to the saddle; while poor Diana landed upon the crouper, and,
+as if ashamed, with hanging head and tail, withdrew behind the horse.
+“Alkmene has won!” said Kretzschmar to his companion. “Yes, Alkmene is
+the court-lady to-day, and Diana the companion,” he nodded. “She will be
+cross, and I do not blame her.”
+
+“Nor I,” said Kretzschmar; “there is a great difference between the
+court-lady and the companion. The lady remains with the king all day;
+he plays with her, takes her to walk, gives her bonbons, and the choice
+morsels of chicken, and only when she has eaten sufficient, can the
+companion enter to eat the remainder.” [Footnote: This was the daily
+order of rank with the favorite dogs, for whose service two dog-lackeys,
+as they were called, were always in waiting. They took them to walk]
+
+“One could almost envy the king’s greyhounds!” sighed the second
+footman. “We get dogs’ wages, and they the chicken and good treatment.
+It is a pity!”
+
+“The worst of it is, the king forbids us to marry!” said Kretzschmar
+sadly. “All the others would leave him, but I pay no attention to old
+Fritz’s snarling and scolding, for he pays for it afterward; first, it
+rains abusive words, then dollars, and if the stupid ass hits me over
+the head, he gives me at least a ducat for it. Why should not one endure
+scoldings when is well paid for it? I remain the fine handsome fellow
+that I am, if the old bear does call me an ass! His majesty might well
+be satisfied if he had my fine figure and good carriage.”
+
+“Yes, indeed, we are very different fellows from old Fritz!” said the
+second lackey, with a satisfied air. “A princess once thought me a
+handsome fellow! It is eleven years since, as I entered the guards on
+account of my delicate figure. I was guard of honor in the anteroom of
+the former crown princess of Prussia. It was my first experience. I
+did not know the ways of the lords and ladies. Suddenly, a charming and
+beautifully-dressed lady came into the anteroom, two other young ladies
+following her, joking and laughing, quite at their pleasure. All at
+once the elegantly-attired lady fixed her large black eyes upon me, so
+earnestly, that I grew quite red, and looked down. ‘See that handsome
+boy,’ she cried. ‘I will bet that it is a girl dressed up!’ She ran up
+to me, and began to stroke my cheek with her soft hand, and laughed. ‘I
+am right. He has not the trace of a beard; it is a girl!’ And before I
+knew it she kissed me, then again, and a third time even. I stood still
+as if enchanted, and, as I thought another kiss was coming, whack went
+a stout box on my ear. ‘There is a punishment for you,’ said she, ‘that
+you may know enough to return a kiss when a handsome lady gives you when
+the king did not wish them with him; in summer, in an open wagon, the
+dogs upon the back-seat, and the footmen upon the forward seat, and
+whenever they reproved them, to bring them to order, they addressed them
+in the polite manner of one, and not stand like a libber,’ and with that
+she boxed me again. The other two ladies laughed, which made me angry,
+and my ears were very warm. ‘If that happens again,’ said I, ‘by
+thunder, she will find I do not wait to be punished!’ I laid down the
+arms, and at once sprang after the lady, when--the folding-doors were
+thrown open, and two gentlemen, in splendid gold-embroidered dresses,
+entered. As they saw the little lady, they stood astonished, and made
+the three prescribed bows. I smelt the rat, and put on my sword quickly,
+and stood stiff as a puppet. The gentlemen said, that they must beg an
+interview with her royal highness, to deliver the king’s commands. The
+princess went into an adjoining room. One of the court-ladies stopped
+before me a moment, and said: ‘If you ever dare to tell of this, you
+shall be put in the fortress. Remember it, and keep silent.’ I did so,
+and kept it a secret until to-day.”
+
+“Did the princess ever punish you again?” asked Kretzchmar, with a bold,
+spying look.
+
+“No, never,” answered the lackey Schultz. “The princess was ordered to
+Stettin the next day, where she still lives as a prisoner for her gay
+pranks. I remembered her punishment, and when a lady has kissed me, I
+have bravely returned it.”
+
+The footmen had followed the king up the slowly ascending horse-path
+to the terrace, and now they sprang quickly forward. Kretzschmar swung
+himself from his saddle, threw Schultz the reins, and, as the king
+drew up at the side-door of the palace of Sans-Souci, he stood ready
+to assist him to dismount. The king had given strict orders that no
+one should notice his going or coming, and to-day, as usual, he entered
+without pomp or ceremony into his private room, followed by Kretzschmar
+alone. He sank back into his armchair, the blue damask covering of which
+was torn and bitten by the dogs, so that the horse-hair stood out from
+the holes.
+
+“Now relate to me, Kretzschmar, how your expedition succeeded. Did you
+go to Berlin to see Mademoiselle Enke last night?”
+
+“Yes, your majesty, I was there, and have brought you the writing.”
+
+“Was she alone?” asked the king, bending over to caress Alkmene, who lay
+at his feet.
+
+“Well,” answered Kretzschmar, grinning, “I do not know whether she was
+alone or not. I only know that, as I waited a little on the corner
+of the street, I saw a gentleman go out, wrapped in a cloak, a tall,
+broad-shouldered gentleman, whom I--”
+
+“Whom you naturally did not recognize,” said the king, interrupting him;
+“it was a dark night, and no moon, so that you could not see.”
+
+“At your service, your majesty, I could see no one; I would only add
+that the unknown may have been at Mademoiselle Enke’s.”
+
+“And he may not have been,” cried the king, harshly. “What else did you
+learn?”
+
+“Nothing at all worth speaking about. Only one thing I must say, the
+lackey Schultz is a prattling fool, and speaks very disrespectfully.”
+
+“Did he talk with you?”
+
+“Yes, your majesty, with me.”
+
+“Then he knows well that it would be welcome. What did he say?”
+
+“He related to me a love-affair with the crown princess of Prussia
+eleven years since. He plumes himself upon the crown princess having
+stroked his beard.”
+
+“Be quiet!” commanded the king, harshly. “If Schultz was drunk, and
+talked in a crazy manner, how dare you repeat it to me? Let this happen
+again, and I will dismiss you my service. Remember it, you ass!”
+
+“Pardon me, your majesty, I thought I must relate all that I hear of
+importance.”
+
+“That was not important, and not worth the trouble of talking about.
+If Schultz is such a drunken fellow I did not know it, and he is to be
+pitied. You can go now; I give you a day to make your farewells to your
+friends, and to console them with the hope of meeting you again. Put
+every thing in order that concerns you. If you have debts, pay them.”
+
+“I have no money to pay them, your majesty,” sighed Kretzschmar.
+
+The king stepped to the iron coffer, of which no one possessed the
+key but himself, and looking within said: “You cannot have much money
+to-day, as the drawer which contains the money for the gossips and spies
+is quite empty, and you have had a good share of it. Five guldens remain
+for you.”
+
+“Alas! your majesty, it is too little; twenty-five guldens would not pay
+my debts.”
+
+The king closed the drawer, saying: “Judas only received twenty
+shillings for betraying his Master. Twenty-five is quite enough for
+Kretzschmar for betraying his comrade.”
+
+Kretzschmar slunk away. The king fixed his great eyes upon him until the
+door closed. “Man is a miserable race; for gold he would sell his own
+brother--would sell his own soul, if there could be found a purchaser,”
+ he murmured. “Why do you growl, Alkmene, why trouble yourself,
+mademoiselle? I was not speaking of your honorable race; only of the
+pitiful race of men. Be quiet, my little dog, be quiet; I love you, and
+you are my dear little dog,” he said, pressing her caressingly to his
+breast.
+
+The footman Schultz appeared to announce the equerry Von Schwerin.
+
+“Bid him enter,” nodded the king.
+
+Von Schwerin entered, with a smiling face. “Have you accomplished what I
+confided to you?”
+
+With a profound bow Von Schwerin drew a roll of paper from his
+breast-pocket, and handed it to the king, saying, “I am so fortunate as
+to have accomplished your commands.”
+
+“Will Count Schmettau give up the villa at once?”
+
+“Yes, your majesty, the new occupant could take possession to-day,
+with all the furniture and house arrangements, for seven thousand five
+hundred dollars. Here is the bill of sale, only the purchaser’s name is
+wanting. I have obeyed your majesty’s commands, and acted as if I were
+the purchaser.”
+
+“Schmettau is not such a stupid fellow as to believe that, for he knows
+that you cannot keep your money. You say the contract is ready, only the
+signature of the purchaser is wanting and the money?”
+
+“Pardon me, your majesty, the name of the present possessor has not been
+inserted. I did not presume to write it without the unmistakable command
+of your majesty.”
+
+“Do you know the name?” asked the king.
+
+“I do not, but the generosity of my most gracious king and master allows
+me to divine it, and my heart is filled to bursting with thankfulness
+and joy. My whole life will not be long enough to prove to you my
+gratitude.”
+
+“What for?” asked the king, staring at Von Schwerin, quite surprised;
+“you cannot suppose that I have purchased the villa for you?”
+
+Herr von Schwerin smilingly nodded. “I think so, your majesty.”
+
+Frederick laughed aloud. “Schwerin, you are an uncommonly cunning
+fellow. You see the grass grow before the seed is sown. This time you
+deceived yourself--the grass has not grown. What good would it do
+you? You do not need grass, but thistles, and they do not grow at
+Charlottenburg. Take the contract to my minister Von Herzberg, whom you
+will find in the audience-room, and then walk a little upon the terrace
+to enjoy the fresh air. I promised you the privilege. First go to Von
+Herzberg, and say to him to send the Prince of Prussia to me immediately
+upon his arrival. Why do you wear so mournful a face all of a sudden?
+Can it be possible that my chief equerry has so lowered himself as to go
+among the mechanics, and build chateaux en Espagne? You know such houses
+are not suitable for our northern climate, and fall down. Now, do what I
+told you, and then go upon the terrace.”
+
+The equerry glided away with sorrowful mien to Von Herzberg, and
+communicated the king’s commands to him.
+
+“You have made a good purchase,” said the minister, in a friendly
+manner. “His majesty will be very much pleased with the extraordinary
+zeal and the great dexterity with which you have arranged the matter.
+Count Schmettau has just been here, and he could not sufficiently
+commend your zeal and prudence, and the sympathy and interest which you
+showed in the smallest matters, as if the purchase were for yourself.
+The count wishes to reserve two oil paintings in the saloon, which are
+an heirloom from his father. We cannot but let the count retain them.”
+
+“Arrange it as you will,” answered the equerry, fretfully; “I have
+nothing more to do with the affair--it lies in your hands.”
+
+“But where are you going in such haste?” said Herzberg, as the equerry
+bowed hastily, and strode through the room toward the door.
+
+“His majesty commanded me to go upon the terrace,” he replied, morosely.
+
+Herr von Herzberg looked after him surprised. “Something must have
+occurred, otherwise he is very tractable. Ah! there comes the prince. I
+will go to meet him, and communicate to him the king’s command--I will
+await your royal highness here until you have spoken with the king, if
+you will have the grace to seek me.”
+
+“I will return by all means, if you will have the kindness to wait for
+me,” replied the prince, smiling, and hastened to the interview with his
+royal uncle.
+
+Frederick was seated in his arm-chair, upon his lap Alkmene, when the
+crown prince entered. “Bon jour, mon neveu! pardon me,” said he, with a
+friendly nod, “that I remain seated, and do not rise to greet the future
+King of Prussia.”
+
+“Sire, Heaven grant that many years pass before I succeed to the title
+which my great and unapproachable predecessor has borne with so much
+wisdom and fame, that one can well doubt the being able to emulate
+his example, and must content himself to live under the shadow of his
+intelligence and fame!”
+
+Frederick slowly shook his head. “The people will not be satisfied, nor
+the coffers filled by fame. No one can live upon the great deeds of his
+ancestors; he must be self-sustaining, not seek for the laurels in the
+past, but upon the naked field of the future, which lies before him. Sow
+the seeds of future laurels; fame troubles me but little, and I advise
+you, my nephew, not to rely upon it. One must begin anew each day, and
+make fresh efforts for vigorous deeds.”
+
+The crown prince bowed, and seated himself upon the tabouret, which the
+king, with a slight wave of the hand, signified to him.
+
+“I will endeavor, sire, to follow the elevated sentiments of your
+majesty, that I may not dishonor my great teacher.”
+
+“You express yourself too modestly, my nephew, and I know that you think
+otherwise; that your fiery spirit will never be contented to dishonor
+yourself or your ancestors. Fate is favorable to you, and offers the
+opportunity to confirm, what I judge you to be--a brave soldier, a
+skilful captain--in a word, a true Hohenzollern! I would make you
+a commander of a division of my army, and I shall follow every
+movement--every operation, with lively interest.”
+
+A ray of joy beamed upon the face of the prince; Frederick saw it with
+satisfaction, and his heart warmed toward his nephew. “He has at least
+courage,” he said to himself; “he is no sybarite to quail before the
+rough life of war.”
+
+“Will your majesty so greatly favor me as to accord me an independent
+position in the campaign?”
+
+“I offer you what belongs to you as a general and heir to the throne. On
+me it devolves to direct the plans and operations, and on you to
+detail them and direct the execution. I shall rejoice to see that you
+understand the profession of war practically as well as theoretically.
+Therefore, this war is so far welcome, that it will give my crown prince
+an opportunity to win his first laurels, and adorn the brow which, until
+now, has been crowned with myrtle.”
+
+“Your majesty, I--”
+
+“Be silent--I do not reproach you, my nephew; I understand human
+nature, and the seductive arts of women. It is time that you seek other
+ornament--myrtle becomes a youthful brow, and the helmet adorns the man
+crowned with laurels.”
+
+“I have long desired it, and I am deeply grateful to your majesty for
+the opportunity to win it. This campaign is good fortune to me.”
+
+“War is never a good fortune,” sighed the king--“for the people it is
+great misfortune. I would willingly have avoided it for their sake.
+But the arrogance and the passion for territorial aggrandizement of
+the young Emperor of Germany forces me to it. I dare not, and will not
+suffer Austria to enrich herself through foreign inheritance, ignoring
+the legitimate title of a German prince. Bavaria must remain an
+independent, free German principality, under a sovereign prince. It
+is inevitably necessary for the balance of power. I cannot yield,
+therefore, as a German prince, that Austria increase her power in an
+illegitimate manner, but I will cast my good sword in the scales, that
+the balance is heavier on the side upon which depends the existence
+of Germany, that she may not be tossed in the air by Austria’s weight.
+These are my views and reasons for the war upon which I now enter with
+reluctance. When the greatness and equilibrium of Germany are at stake,
+no German prince should dare hesitate. Austria has already cost Germany
+much blood, and will cause her to shed still more. Believe it, my
+nephew, and guard yourself against Austria’s ambition for territorial
+aggrandizement. You see, I am like all old people, always teaching
+youth, while we have much to learn ourselves. We are all pupils, and our
+deeds are ever imperfect.”
+
+“Your majesty cannot believe that of himself. The sage of Sans-Souci is
+the type, the master, and teacher of all Europe.”
+
+“My son,” replied the king, “the great men of antiquity recognized it as
+the acme of wisdom, that they must be mindful that ‘in the midst of life
+we are in death.’ At the gay festivities and the luxurious feasts
+they were interrupted in the merry song and voluptuous dance, with the
+warning: ‘Remember, O man, that thou must die!’ Let us profit by their
+wisdom! I have startled you from the banquet of life, and I doubt not
+that many singers and dancers will be enraged that I should put an end
+to the feasts of roses and the merry dance in such an abominable manner.
+It would be an evil omen in our warlike undertaking, if the rosy lips of
+the beauties should breathe curses to follow us; therefore, we must
+try to conciliate them, and leave a good souvenir in their hearts. You
+smile, my prince, and you think it vain trouble for an old fellow; that
+I cannot win the favor of the ladies under any pretension; so you must
+undertake for me the reconciliation and the hush-money.”
+
+“I am prepared for any thing which your majesty imposes upon me; only
+I would defend myself against the interpretation which you give my
+smile--and--”
+
+“Which was very near the truth,” interrupted the king. “I have called
+you from the banquet of life, and I have interrupted the dancers,
+crowned with roses in the midst of their dance, which they would finish
+before you. I pray you, then, indemnify the enraged beauties, and let us
+go forth with a quiet conscience, that we in no respect are indebted to
+any one.”
+
+“Oh, sire, it will be impossible for me to go to the field with a quiet
+conscience upon this point.”
+
+“Permit me to extend to you the means to do so,” replied the king,
+graciously smiling. “Take this little box; it contains a wonderful
+elixir, proof against all the infirmities and weaknesses of humanity,
+of one of the greatest philosophers of human nature. By the right use
+of it, tears of sorrow are changed to tears of joy, and a Megerea into a
+smiling angel, as by enchantment. Before going to the war, I pray you
+to prove the miraculous elixir upon one of the angry beauties. For, I
+repeat, we must put our house in order, and leave no debts behind us.
+The debts of gratitude must not be forgotten. Let us say ‘Gesegnete
+Mahlzeit’ when we have been well feasted.”
+
+The king handed the prince a little box, of beautiful workmanship, and
+smiled as he rather vehemently thanked him, and at the same time tried
+to open it.
+
+“I remark with pleasure that you have a tolerably innocent heart, as
+you betray curiosity about the wonderful elixir. I supposed men, to say
+nothing of beautiful women, had long since instructed you that it was
+the only balsam for all the evils of life. My minister Herzberg will
+give you the key of the little box, and advise you as to the right use
+of the elixir. Farewell, with the hope of soon seeing you again, my
+nephew. I start for Silesia to-morrow, as I must travel slower than you
+young people. You will follow me in a few days. Again farewell!”
+
+Extending his meagre white hand to the prince, he withdrew it quickly,
+as the latter was about to press it to his lips, and motioned to the
+door kindly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. THE GOLDEN RAIN.
+
+
+Prince Frederick William betook himself, with painful curiosity, to the
+audience-room, where the Minister von Herzberg awaited him.
+
+“Your excellency,” said he, “his majesty refers me to you, for the true
+explanation of the miraculous elixir contained in this little box, and
+about which I am naturally very curious, and beg of you the key to open
+it.”
+
+“Will your royal highness,” said the minister, smiling, “have the
+grace to grant me a few moments’ conversation, which may serve as an
+explanation, for his majesty has not in reality given me a key?”
+
+“I pray you, my dear excellency, to explain it,” cried the prince,
+impatiently.
+
+“Pardon me if I probe the tenderest feelings of your heart, my prince.
+The command of the king imposes this duty upon me. He has known for a
+long time of your connection with a certain person, to whom you are more
+devoted than to your wife.”
+
+“Say, rather, his majesty has twice forced me to marry two unloved
+and unknown princesses, when he knew that I already loved this certain
+person. Twice I have married, because the command of his king is law to
+the crown prince of Prussia. For my love and my sympathy there is no law
+but that of my own heart, and this alone have I followed.”
+
+“His majesty does not reproach you. The philosopher of Sans-Souci
+understands human nature, and he feels indulgent toward your weakness.
+He is quite satisfied that you have chosen this person, as friend and
+favorite, to console yourself for an unhappy marriage. Her low birth is
+a guaranty that she will never mingle in politics, an act which would
+be visited with his majesty’s highest displeasure. While his majesty
+permits you to continue this intimacy, and recognizes the existence of
+this woman, he wishes her to be provided for as becomes the mistress of
+a crown prince, and not as the grisette of a gentleman. She should have
+her own house, and the livery of her lord.”
+
+“As if it were my fault that this has not already been arranged!” cried
+the prince. “Am I not daily and hourly tormented with poverty, and
+scarcely know how to turn, between necessary expenses and urgent
+creditors? You know well yourself, your excellency, how stingy and
+parsimonious the king is to the crown prince. He scarcely affords me the
+means to support my family in a decent, to say nothing of a princely,
+manner. How dependent we all are, myself, my wife, and my children upon
+the king, whose economy increases, while our wants and expenses also
+increase every year! It is sufficiently sad that I cannot reward those
+who have proved to me during ten years their fidelity and love, but I
+must suffer them to live in dependence and want.”
+
+“His majesty understands that, and thinks that as your royal highness
+is to go to the field, and will be exposed, as a brave commander, to the
+uncertain fate of battle, that you should assure the future of all those
+who are dear to you, and arrange a certain competency for them. A good
+opportunity now offers to you. Count Schmettau will sell his villa at
+Charlottenburg, and it would be agreeable to his majesty that you should
+purchase it, and assign it to those dearest to you. In order to give you
+as little trouble as possible, his majesty has had the matter already
+arranged, through his equerry, Count Schmettau, and the purchase can
+be made this very hour. Here is the bill of sale; only the name of the
+present possessor is wanting, the signature of the purchaser, and the
+payment of seven thousand five hundred thalers.”
+
+“The names can be quickly written; but, your excellency,” cried the
+prince, “where will the money come from?”
+
+“I have just given your royal highness the key to the little box: have
+the goodness to press hard upon the rosette.”
+
+The prince touched the spring, the cover flew back--it contained only
+a strip of paper! Upon it was written, in the king’s own handwriting,
+“Bill of exchange upon my treasurer. Pay to the order of the Prince of
+Prussia twenty thousand thalers.” [Footnote: “Memoirs of the Countess
+Lichtenau,” vol.1] The prince’s face lighted up with joy. “Oh! the
+king has indeed given me a miraculous elixir, that compensates for all
+misfortunes, heals all infirmities, and is a balsam for all possible
+griefs. I will bring it into use immediately, and sign the bill of
+sale.” He signed the paper, and filled with haste the deficiency in
+the contract. “It is done!” he cried, joyfully, “the proprietress,
+Wilhelmine Enke; purchaser, Frederick William of Prussia. Nothing
+remains to be done but to draw upon the king’s treasury, and pay Count
+Schmettau.”
+
+“Your royal highness is spared even that trouble. Here are twenty rolls,
+and each roll contains one hundred double Fredericks d’or, and, when
+your highness commands it, I will reserve seven rolls and pay Count
+Schmettau; then there remain thirteen for yourself. Here is the
+contract, which you will give in person to the possessor.”
+
+“First, I must go to the king,” said the prince; “my heart urges me
+to express my gratitude to him, and my deep sense of his goodness and
+tenderness. I feel ashamed without being humbled, like a repentant son,
+who has doubted the generosity and goodness of his father, because he
+has sometimes severely reprimanded his faults. I must go at once to the
+king.”
+
+“He will not receive your royal highness,” answered Herzberg, smiling.
+“You know our sovereign, who so fully deserves our admiration and love.
+His favor and goodness beam upon us all, and he desires neither thanks
+nor acknowledgment. He performs his noble, glorious deeds in a harsh
+manner, that he may relieve the recipients of his bounty from the burden
+of gratitude; and often when he is the most morose and harsh, is he at
+heart the most gracious and affectionate. You and yours have experienced
+it to-day. He appeared to be angry, and enveloped himself in the toga
+of a severe judge of morals; but, under this toga, there beat the kind,
+noble heart of a friend and father, who punishes with rigorous words,
+and forgives with generous, benevolent deeds.”
+
+“For this I must thank him--he must listen to me!” cried the prince.
+
+“He will be angry if your royal highness forces him to receive thanks
+when he would avoid them. He has expressly commanded me to entreat you
+never to allude to the affair, and never to speak of it to others, as it
+would not be agreeable to his majesty to have the family affairs known
+to the world. You would best please his majesty by following exactly his
+wishes, and when you meet him never allude to it. As I have said, this
+is the express wish and command of the king.”
+
+“Which I must naturally follow,” sighed the prince, “although I
+acknowledge that it is unpleasant to me to receive so much kindness from
+him without at least returning my most heart-felt thanks. Say to the
+king, that I am deeply, sensibly moved with his tender sympathy and
+generosity. And now I will hasten to Wilhelmine Enke; but, it occurs to
+me that it may not be possible; the king has made her a prisoner in her
+own house.”
+
+“Do not trouble yourself about that. If it is your royal highness’s
+pleasure, drive at once to Charlottenburg. You will find the new
+possessor there and she will relate to you her interview with the mayor
+of Berlin.”
+
+“Oh! I shall drive at once to the villa. I am curious to learn what Von
+Kircheisen has told her.”
+
+“I imagined that you would be, and ordered your carriage here, as you
+could not well ride upon horseback with the heavy rolls of gold; and
+if it is your pleasure, I will order the footman to place the box, into
+which I have put them, in the carriage.”
+
+“No, no; I beg you to let me carry them,” cried the prince, seizing the
+box with both hands. “It is truly heavy, but an agreeable burden, and if
+it lames my arm I shall bethink myself of the miraculous elixir, which
+will give me courage and strength. Farewell, your excellency; I shall
+hurry on to Charlottenburg!”
+
+The prince hastened to his carriage, and ordered the coachman to drive
+at full speed to the villa. Thanks to this order, he reached it in about
+an hour. No one was there to receive him upon his arrival. The hall was
+empty, and the rooms were closed. The prince passed on to the opposite
+end, where there was a door open, and stood upon a balcony, with steps
+descending into the garden, which, with its flower-beds, grass-plots,
+shrubbery, and the tall trees, formed a lovely background. The birds
+were singing, the trees rustled, and variegated butterflies fluttered
+over the odorous flowers. Upon the turf, forming a beautiful group, was
+Wilhelmine playing with her daughter, and the nurse with the little boy
+upon her lap, who laughingly stretched out his arms toward his mother.
+
+“Wilhelmine--Wilhelmine!” cried the prince.
+
+With a cry of joy she answered, and flew toward the house. “You have
+come at last, my beloved lord,” she cried, almost breathless, mounting
+the steps. “I beg you to tell me what all this means? I am dying of
+curiosity!”
+
+“I also,” said the prince, smiling. “Have the goodness to lead me to one
+of the rooms, that I may set down this box.”
+
+“What does that hobgoblin contain, that it prevents your embracing me?”
+
+“Do not ask, but hasten to assist me to relieve myself of the burden.”
+ They entered the house, and Wilhelmine opened the wide folding-doors,
+which led into a very tastefully-furnished room. Frederick William set
+the box upon the marble table, and sank upon a divan with Wilhelmine in
+his arms. “First of all, tell me what Von Kircheisen said to you?”
+
+“He commanded me, in the name of the king, to give up my dwelling at
+Berlin and at Potsdam, and to avoid showing myself in public at both
+places, that those who had the right to the love and fidelity of the
+Prince of Prussia should not be annoyed at the sight of me; that I
+should live retired, and leave the appointed residence as little as
+possible, for then the king would be inclined to ignore my existence,
+and take no further notice of me. But, if I attempted to play a role,
+his majesty would take good care that it should be forever played out.”
+
+“Those were harsh, cruel words,” sighed Frederick William.
+
+“Harsh, cruel words,” repeated Wilhelmine, sorrowfully. “They pierced my
+soul, and I shrieked at last from agony. Herr von Kircheisen was quite
+frightened, and begged me to excuse him, that he must thus speak to me,
+but the king had commanded him to repeat his very words. The carriage
+was at the door, he said, ready to convey me to my future dwelling, for
+I must immediately leave Berlin, and the king be informed of my setting
+out. The coachman received the order, and here I am, without knowing
+what I am to do, or whether I shall remain here.”
+
+“Yes, Wilhelmine, you are to remain here; at last we have a home, and
+a resting-place for our love and our children. This house is yours--you
+are mistress here, and you must welcome me as your guest.”
+
+“This house is mine!” she cried, joyfully. “Did you give it to me? How
+generous, and how extravagant you are! Protect me with the gift of your
+love, as if you were Jupiter and I Danae!”
+
+“A beautiful picture, and, that it may be a reality, I will play the
+role of Jupiter and open the box.”
+
+He took a roll of gold, and let it fall upon Wilhelmine’s head, her
+beautiful shoulders, and her arms, like a shower of gold. She shrieked
+and laughed, and sought to gather up the pieces which rolled ringing
+around her upon the floor. The prince seized another roll, and another
+still, till she was flooded with the glistening pieces. Then another and
+another, until Wilhelmine, laughing, screamed for grace, and sprang up,
+the gold rolling around her like teasing goblins.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING.
+
+
+The Minister Herzberg had, in the mean time, an interview with the king,
+informing him of the concluded purchase of the Schmettau villa, and of
+the emotion and gratitude of the crown prince at his royal munificence.
+
+“That affair is arranged, then,” said Frederick. “If Fate wills that the
+prince should not return from this campaign, then this certain person
+and the two poor worms are provided for, who are destined to wander
+through the world nameless and fatherless.”
+
+“Let us hope that fate will not deal so harshly with the prince, or
+bring such sorrow upon your majesty.”
+
+“My dear sir, Fate is a hard-hearted creature, the tears of mankind are
+of no more importance to her than the raindrops falling from the roof.
+She strides with gigantic power over men, crushing them all in dust--the
+great as well as the little--the king as well as the beggar. For my
+part I yield to Fate without a murmur. Politicians and warriors are mere
+puppets in the hands of Providence. We act without knowing why, for we
+are unknowingly the tools of an invisible hand. Often the result of our
+actions is the reverse of our hopes! Let all things take their course,
+as it best pleases God, and let us not think to master Fate. [Footnote:
+The king’s words.--“Posthumous Works,” vol. x., p. 256.] That is my
+creed, Herzberg, and if I do not return from this infamous campaign, you
+will know that I have yielded to Fate without murmuring. You understand
+my wishes in all things; the current affairs of government should go
+on regularly. If any thing extraordinary occurs, let me be informed at
+once. Is there any news, Herzberg?”
+
+“Nothing worth recounting, sire, except that the young Duke of Weimar is
+in town.”
+
+“I know it; he has announced himself. I cannot speak with him. I have
+asked my brother Henry to arrange the conditions under which he will
+allow us to enlist men for my army in his duchy. I hope he will be
+reasonable, and not prevent it. That is no news that the Duke of Weimar
+has arrived!”
+
+“Not only the duke has arrived, but he has brought his dear friend with
+him whom the people in Saxe-Weimar say makes the good and bad weather.”
+
+“Who is the weather-maker?”
+
+“Your majesty, this weather-maker is the author of ‘The Sorrows of Young
+Werther,’ Johann Wolfgang Goethe, who for four years has aroused
+the hearts and excited the imaginations of all Germany. If I am not
+deceived, a great future opens for this poet, and he will be a star of
+the first magnitude in the sky of German literature. I believe it would
+be well worth the trouble for your majesty to see him.”
+
+“Do not trouble me with your German literature, and your stars of
+the first magnitude! We must acknowledge our poverty with humility;
+belles-lettres have never achieved success upon our soil. Moreover, this
+star of the first magnitude--this Herr Goethe--I remember him well; I
+wish to know nothing of him. He has quite turned the heads of all the
+love-sick fools with his ‘Sorrows of Young Werther.’ You cannot count
+that a merit. The youth of Germany were sufficiently enamoured, without
+the love-whining romances of Herr Goethe to pour oil on the fire.”
+
+“Pardon me, sire, that I should presume to differ from you; but this
+book which your majesty condemns has not only produced a furor in
+Germany, but throughout Europe--throughout the world even. That which
+public opinion sustains in such a marked manner cannot be wholly
+unworthy. ‘Vox populi, vox dei,’ is a true maxim in all ages.”
+
+“It is not true!” cried the king. “The old Roman maxim is not applicable
+to our effeminate, degraded people. Nowadays, whoever flatters the
+people and glorifies their weaknesses, is a good fellow, and he is
+extolled to the skies. Public opinion calls him a genius and a Messiah.
+Away with your nonsense! The ‘Werther’ of Herr Goethe has wrought no
+good; it has made the healthy sick, and has not restored invalids to
+health. Since its appearance a mad love-fever has seized all the young
+people, and silly sentimentalities and flirtations have become the
+fashion. These modern Werthers behave as if love were a tarantula, with
+the bite of which they must become mad, to be considered model young
+men. They groan and sigh, take moonlight walks, but they have no courage
+in their souls, and will never make good soldiers. This is the fault of
+Herr Werther, and his abominable lamentations. It is a miserable work,
+and not worth the trouble of talking about, for no earnest man will read
+it!”
+
+“Pardon me, sire; your majesty has graciously permitted me to enter
+the lists as knight and champion of German literature, and sometimes
+to defend the German Muse, who stands unnoticed and unknown under the
+shadow of your throne; while the French lady, with her brilliant attire
+and painted cheeks, is always welcomed. I beg your majesty to believe
+that, although this romance may have done some harm, it has, on the
+other hand, done infinite service. A great and immortal merit cannot be
+denied to it.”
+
+“What merit?” demanded the king, slowly taking a pinch of snuff; “I am
+very curious to know what merit that crazy, love-sick book has.”
+
+“Sire, it has the great merit to have enriched the German literature
+with a work whose masterly language alone raises it above every thing
+heretofore produced by a German author. It has emancipated our country’s
+literature from its clumsy, awkward childhood, and presented it as an
+ardent, inspired youth, ready for combat, upon the lips of whom the gods
+have placed the right word to express every feeling and every thought--a
+youth who is capable of probing the depths of the human heart.”
+
+“I wish all this might have remained in the depths,” cried Frederick,
+annoyed. “You have defended the German Muse before; but you remember
+that I am incorrigible. You cannot persuade me that bungling is
+master-work. It is not the poverty of the mind, but the fault of the
+language, which is not capable of expressing with brevity and precision.
+For how could any one translate Tacitus into German without adding
+a mass of words and phrases? In French it is not necessary; one can
+express himself with brevity, and to the point.”
+
+“Sire, I shall permit myself to prove to you that the brevity of Tacitus
+can be imitated in the German language. I will translate a part of
+Tacitus, to give your majesty a proof.”
+
+“I will take you at your word! And I will answer you in a treatise upon
+German literature, its short-comings, and the means for its improvement.
+[Footnote: This treatise appeared during the Bavarian war of succession,
+in the winter of 1779] Until then, a truce. I insist upon it--good
+German authors are entirely wanting to us Germans. They may appear a
+long time after I have joined Voltaire and Algarotti in the Elysian
+Fields.” [Footnote: The king’s words.--See “Posthumous Works,” vol. II.,
+p. 293.]
+
+“They are already here,” cried Herzberg, zealously. “We have, for
+example, Lessing, who has written two dramas, of which every nation
+might be proud--‘Minna von Barnhelm, and Emilia Calotti.’”
+
+“I know nothing of them,” said the king, with indifference. “I have
+never heard of your Lessing.”
+
+“Your majesty, this wonderful comedy, ‘Minna von Barnhelm,’ was written
+for your majesty’s glorification.”
+
+“The more the reason why I should not read it! A German comedy! That
+must be fine stuff for the German theatre, the most miserable of all.
+In Germany, Melpomene has untutored admirers, some walking on stilts,
+others crawling in the mire, from the altars of the goddess. The Germans
+will ever be repulsed, as they are rebels to her laws, and understand
+not the art to move and interest the heart.”
+
+“But, sire, you have never deigned to become acquainted with ‘Minna von
+Barnhelm’ nor ‘Emilia Calotti.’”
+
+“Well, well, Herzberg, do not be so furious; you are a lover of German
+literature, and some allowance must be made for those who are in love.
+You will not persuade me to read your things which you call German
+comedies and tragedies. I will take good care; my teeth are not strong
+enough to grind such hard bits. Now do not be angry, Herzberg. The
+first leisure hours that I have in this campaign I shall employ on my
+treatise.”
+
+“And the first leisure hours that I have,” growled the minister, “I
+shall employ to translate a portion of Tacitus into our beautiful German
+language, to send to your majesty.”
+
+“You are incorrigible,” said Frederick, smiling. “We shall see, and
+until then let us keep the peace, Herzberg. When one is about to go
+to war, it is well to be at peace with one’s conscience and with his
+friends; so let us be good friends.”
+
+“Your majesty, your graciousness and kindness make me truly ashamed,”
+ said the minister, feelingly. “I beg pardon a thousand times, if I have
+allowed myself to be carried away with unbecoming violence in my zeal
+for our poor neglected German literature.”
+
+“I approve of your zeal, and it pleases me that you are a faithful
+knight, sans peur et sans reproche. I do not ascribe its poverty to the
+German nation, who have as much spirit and genius as any nation, the
+mental development of which has been retarded by outward circumstances,
+which prevented her rising to an equality with her neighbors. We
+shall one day have classical writers, and every one will read them
+to cultivate himself. Our neighbors will learn German, and it will
+be spoken with pleasure at courts; and it can well happen that our
+language, when perfectly formed, will spread throughout Europe. We
+shall have our German classics also.” [Footnote: The king’s words--see
+“Posthumous Works,” vol. III.]
+
+The king smiled, well pleased, as he observed by stolen glances the
+noble, intelligent face of Herzberg brighten, and the gloomy clouds
+dispersed which had overshadowed it.
+
+“Now, is it not true that you are again contented?” said the king,
+graciously.
+
+“I am delighted with the prophecy for the German language, your majesty;
+and may I add something?”
+
+“It will weigh on your heart if you do not tell it,” said the king.
+
+“I prophesy that this Goethe will one day belong to the classic authors,
+and therefore I would beg once more of your majesty to grant him a
+gracious look, and invite him to your presence. If you find no pleasure
+in ‘The Sorrows of Werther,’ Goethe has created other beautiful works.
+He is the author of the tragedy of ‘Stella.’”
+
+“That sentimental, immoral piece, which we forbid the representation of
+in Berlin, because it portrays a fellow who made love to two women at
+once, playing the double role of lover to his wife and his paramour,
+while he had a grown-up daughter! It is an immoral piece, which excites
+the tear-glands, and ends as ‘Werther,’ by the hero blowing his brains
+out. It is directed against all morals, and against marriage; therefore
+it was forbidden.” [Footnote: The tragedy of “Stella” was represented in
+Berlin with great applause, and denounced by the king as immoral, in
+the year 1776, and the further representation forbidden.--See Plumke,
+“History of the Berlin Theatres.”]
+
+“But, sire, Herr Goethe has not only written ‘Stella,’ but ‘Clavigo’
+also, which--”
+
+“Which he has copied exactly from the ‘Memoires de Beaumarchais,’”
+ interrupted the king. “That is not a German, but a French production.”
+
+“Allow me to cite a genuine German production, which Johann Wolfgang
+Goethe has written. I mean the drama ‘Gotz von Berlichingen.’”
+
+“Stop!--it is sufficient. I do not wish to hear any thing more,” cried
+the king, indignant, and rising. “It is bad enough that such pieces
+should appear upon the German stage as this ‘Gotz von Berlichingen.’
+They are nothing less than abominable imitations of the bad English
+pieces of Shakespeare! The pit applauds them, and demands with
+enthusiasm these very disgusting platitudes. [Footnote: The king’s own
+words.--See “Posthumous Works,” vol. iii.] Do not be angry again, you
+must have patience with the old boy! I shall rejoice heartily if this
+Herr Goethe becomes a classic writer one day, as you say. I shall not
+live to witness it. I only see the embryo where you see the full-grown
+author. We will talk further about it when we meet in the Elysian
+Fields; then we will see, when you present this Herr Johann Wolfgang
+Goethe, as a German classic writer, to Homer, Horace, Virgil, and
+Corneille, if they do not turn their backs upon him. Now adieu,
+Herzberg! So soon as circumstances permit, I shall send for you to go to
+Silesia, and then you can give me your German translation of Tacitus.”
+
+The king nodded in a friendly manner to his minister, and slowly walked
+back and forth, while he took leave and withdrew. After a few moments he
+rang, and the summons was immediately answered by the footman Schultz.
+
+The king fixed upon him one of those searching glances of his fiery
+eyes which confounded and confused the footman. He remained standing and
+embarrassed, with downcast look.
+
+“What are you standing there for?” asked the king. “Did I not ring for
+you, and do you not know what you have to do?” Frederick continued to
+regard him, with flashing eyes, which increased the lackey’s confusion.
+
+He forgot entirely that the summons was for his majesty’s lunch, and all
+that he had to do was to open the door to the adjoining room, where it
+stood already prepared.
+
+Frederick waited a moment, but the footman still stood irresolute, when
+his majesty indicated to him to approach.
+
+He approached, staggering under the puzzling glance of his master.
+
+“Oh! I see what it is,” said Frederick, shrugging his shoulders; “you
+are drunk again, as you often are, and--”
+
+“Your majesty,” cried Schultz, amazed, “I drunk!”
+
+“Silence!--will you be bold enough to reason with me? I say that you are
+drunk, and I want no drunken footmen. They must be well-behaved, sober
+fellows, who keep their ears open and their mouths shut--who are
+neither drunkards nor gossips, and do not take for truth what they have
+experienced in their drunken fits. I do not want such fellows as you are
+at all; you are only fit food for cannon, and for that you shall serve.
+Go to General Alvensleben, and present yourself to enter the guards. You
+are lucky to go to the field at once; to-morrow you will set off. Say
+to the general that I sent you, and that you are to enter as a common
+soldier.”
+
+“But, your majesty, I do not know what I have done,” cried Schultz,
+whiningly. “I really am not drunk. I--”
+
+“Silence!” thundered the king. “Do as I command you! Go to General
+Alvensleben, and present yourself to enter the guards at once. Away with
+you! I do not need drunken, gossiping footmen in my service. Away with
+you!”
+
+The footman slunk slowly away, his head hanging down, with difficulty
+restraining the tears which stood in large drops in his eyes.
+
+The king followed him with his glance, which softened and grew gentler
+from sympathy. “I pity him, the poor fellow! but I must teach him a
+lesson. I want no gossips around me. He need only wear the uniform two
+weeks or so, that will bring him to reason. Then I will pardon him,
+and receive him into my service again. He is a good-natured fellow, and
+would not betray any one as Kretzschmar betrayed him.”
+
+The king stepped to the window to look at the gentleman who was eagerly
+engaged in conversation with the castellan of Sans-Souci. At this
+instant the footman entered with a sealed note for the king. “From his
+royal highness Prince Henry,” said he.
+
+“Who brought it?”
+
+“The gentleman who speaks with the castellan upon the terrace. I wait
+your majesty’s commands.”
+
+“Wait, then.” The note ran thus: “Your majesty, my dearly-beloved
+brother: The bearer, Johann Wolfgang Goethe, one of the literati, and
+a poet, and at this time secretary of legation to the duchy of
+Saxe-Weimar, is a great favorite of the duke’s, our nephew. I met him
+returning from the parade in company with the duke, who expressed to me
+the strong desire his secretary had to visit the celebrated house of
+the great philosopher of Sans-Souci, and see the room once occupied by
+Voltaire. I could not well refuse, and therefore address these few lines
+to your majesty before returning to Berlin with the duke, who will dine
+with me, accompanied by his secretary. I am your majesty’s most humble
+servant and brother, HENRY.”
+
+“Tell the castellan that I grant him permission to show the house and
+park to the stranger; he shall take care not to come in my way, so that
+I shall be obliged to meet him. Tell this aside, that you may not be
+overheard. Hasten, for they have already been waiting some time.”
+
+The king walked again to the window, and, hidden by the curtain, peeped
+out. “So, this is Herr Goethe, is it? What assurance! There he stands,
+sketching the house. What wonderful eyes the man has! With what a proud,
+confident manner he looks around! What a brow! Truly he is a handsome
+fellow, and Herzberg may be right after all. That brow betokens
+thought, and from those eyes there flashes a divine light. But he looks
+overbearing and proud. Now, I am doubly pleased that I refused Herzberg
+to have any thing to do with him. Such presumptive geniuses must be
+rather kept back; then they feel their power, and strive to bring
+themselves forward. Yes! I believe that man has a future. He looks like
+the youthful god Apollo, who may have condescended to descend to earth!
+He shall not entrap me with his beautiful head. If he is the man who
+makes good and bad weather in Weimar, he shall learn that rain and
+sunshine at Sans-Souci do not depend upon him; that the sun and clouds
+here do not care whether Herr Goethe is in the world or not. For
+sunshine and storm we depend upon the Great Weather-Maker, to whom we
+must all bow; evil and good days in Prussia shall emanate from me,
+so long as I live. Sometimes I succeed in causing a little sunshine,”
+ continued the king. “I believe the Prince of Prussia has to-day felt the
+happy influence of the sun’s rays; and while it is dull and lonely at
+Sans-Souei, may it be brighter and more cheerful at Charlottenburg!
+Eh bien! old boy,” said the king, stopping, “you are playing the
+sentimental, and eulogizing your loneliness. Well, well, do not
+complain.--Oh, come to me, spirits of my friends, and hold converse with
+me! Voltaire, D’Argens, and my beloved Lord-Marshal Keith! Come to me,
+departed souls, with the memories of happier days, and hover with thy
+cheering, sunny influence over the wrinkled brow of old Fritz!”
+
+While the lonely king implored the spirits of his friends, to brighten
+with their presence the quiet, gloomy apartment at Sans-Souci, the sun
+shone in full splendor at Charlottenburg--the sunshine beaming from the
+munificence of Frederick. Wilhelmine Enke had passed the whole day in
+admiring the beautiful and tasteful arrangement of the villa. Every
+piece of furniture, every ornament, she examined attentively--all filled
+her with delight. The prince, who accompanied her from room to room,
+listened to her outbursts of pleasure, rejoicing.
+
+“I wish that I could often prepare such happiness for you, dearest, for
+my heart is twice gladdened to see your beaming face.”
+
+“Reflected from your own. You are my good genius upon earth. You have
+caused the poor, neglected child to become the rich and happy woman. To
+you I owe this home, this foot of earth, which I can call my own. Here
+blossom the flowers for me--here I am mistress, and those who enter must
+come as my guests, and honor me. All this I owe to you.”
+
+“Not to me,” said the prince, smiling; “I only gave to you what was
+given to me! To the king belong your thanks. Harsh in words, but gentle
+in deeds, he has given you this refuge, freeing you from the slavery of
+poverty, from the sorrow of being homeless. But tell it not, Wilhelmine.
+The king would be angry if it were known that he not only tolerated but
+showed great generosity to you. It is a secret that I ought not even
+to disclose to you. I could not receive your thanks, for I have not
+deserved them. From the king comes your good fortune, not from me. The
+day will come when I can requite you, when the poor crown prince becomes
+the rich king. On that day the golden rain shall again shower upon
+you, never to cease, and, vying with the shower of gold, the brightest
+sunbeams play continually around you. As king, I will reward your
+fidelity and love, which you have proved to the poor crown prince, with
+splendor, power, and riches. Until then rejoice with the little that his
+grace has accorded you, and await the much that love will one day bring
+you. Farewell, Wilhelmine, the evening sets in, and I must forth to
+Potsdam. The king would never pardon me if I did not pass the last
+evening with my wife in the circle of my family. Farewell!”
+
+He embraced her tenderly, and Wilhelmine accompanied the prince to the
+carriage, and returned to survey anew the beautiful rooms which were now
+her own possession. An unspeakable, unknown feeling was roused in her,
+and voices, which she had never heard, spoke to her from the depths
+of her heart. “You are no longer a despised, homeless creature,” they
+whispered. “You have a home, a foot of earth to call your own. Make
+yourself a name, that you may be of consequence in the world. You are
+clever and beautiful, and with your prudence and beauty you can win
+a glorious future! Remember the Marquise de Pompadour, neglected and
+scorned as you, until a king loved her, and she became the wife of a
+king, and all France bowed down to her. Even the Empress Maria Theresa
+honored her with her notice, and called her cousin. I am also the
+favorite of a future king, and I will also become the queen of my king!”
+
+Wilhelmine had remained standing in the midst of the great drawing-room,
+which she was passing through, listening to these seductive voices, to
+these strange pictures of the future. In her imagination she saw herself
+in this room surrounded with splendor and magnificence, and sparkling
+with gems. She saw around her elegantly-attired ladies and gentlemen,
+in brilliant uniforms, glittering with orders; saw every-where smiling
+faces, and respectful manners. She saw all eyes turned to her, and heard
+only flattering words, which resounded for her from every lip--for her,
+once so despised and scorned! “It shall be, yes, it shall be,” cried
+she aloud. “I will be the queen of my king! I will become the Prussian
+Marquise de Pompadour; that I swear by the heads of my children, by--”
+
+“Rather swear by thy own beautiful head, Wilhelmine,” said a voice
+behind her. Startled, she turned, and beheld the tall figure of a man,
+wrapped in a long cloak, who stood in the open door.
+
+“Who are you?” she cried, amazed. “How dare you enter here?”
+
+The figure closed the door, without answering, and, slowly approaching
+Wilhelmine, fixed his black eyes upon her with a searching gaze.
+She tried to summon help, but the words died on her lips; her cheeks
+blanched with terror, and, as if rooted to the floor, she stood with
+outstretched arms imploring the approaching form. The figure smiled,
+but there was something commanding in its manner, and in the fiery eyes,
+which rested upon her. When quite near her, it raised its right hand
+with an impatient movement. Immediately her arms fell at her side, her
+cheeks glowed, and a bright smile lighted up her face. Then it lifted
+the three-cornered, gold-bordered hat which shaded its face, nodding to
+her.
+
+“Do you recognize me, Wilhelmine?” he asked, in a sweet, melodious
+voice.
+
+“Yes,” she answered, her eyes still fixed upon him. “You are Cagliostro,
+the great ruler and magician.”
+
+“Where did we meet?”
+
+“I remember; it was in Paris, at the house of the governor of the
+Bastile, M. Delaunay. You caused me to read in a glass the future--a
+bright, glorious future. I was surrounded with splendor and
+magnificence. I saw myself glittering with gems; a king knelt at my
+feet. I was encircled by richly-attired courtiers, who bowed before me,
+and honored me, whispering: ‘We salute you, O beautiful countess; be
+gracious to us, exalted princess!’ It sounded like heavenly music, and I
+shouted with delight.”
+
+“Was that all?” said Cagliostro, solemnly, “that the crystal showed
+you.”
+
+Shuddering, she murmured: “The splendor, glory, and power vanished,
+and all was changed to a fearful picture. I saw myself in a plain, dark
+dress, in a deserted, lonely room, with iron-barred windows, and a small
+iron door closed in the dreary white walls--it was a prison! And I heard
+whispered around me: ‘Woe to you, fallen and dethroned one! You have
+wasted away the days of your splendor, submit in patience to the days
+of your shame and humiliation.’ I could not endure to behold it, and
+screamed with terror, fainting.”
+
+“You demanded to see the future, and I showed it to you,” said
+Cagliostro, earnestly. “Though I let the light shine into your soul,
+still it was dark within; you pursued the way of unbelief, and desired
+not to walk in the way of knowledge. I sent messengers twice to you to
+lead you in the right path, and you sent them laughing away. Recall what
+I told you in Paris. I will it!”
+
+“I remember, master; you said that in the most important days of my life
+you would come to me, and extend to me a helping hand: if I seized
+it, the first picture would be fulfilled; if I refused it, the prison
+awaited me!”
+
+“I have kept my word: to-day is an eventful day in your life; you have
+risen from want and degradation--you have mounted the first rounds of
+the ladder of your greatness and power. You are the mistress of this
+house.” “How did you know it?” asked Wilhelmine, astonished. With a
+pitying smile he answered: “I know every thing that I will, and I
+see many things that I would willingly close my eyes upon. I see your
+future, and my soul pities you, unhappy one; you are lost if you do not
+seize the hand extended to you. You see not the abyss which opens before
+you, and you will fall bleeding and with broken limbs.”
+
+“Mercy, mercy!” she groaned--“stretch out your hand and protect me.”
+ Wilhelmine sank as if crushed to the earth. Cagliostro bent over her,
+and stroked her cold, pale face, breathing upon her the hot breath of
+his lips. “I will pity you--I will protect you. Rise, my daughter!” He
+assisted her to rise, and imprinted a passionate kiss upon her hand.
+“From this hour I count you as one of mine,” he said; “you shall be
+received into the holy band of spirits! You shall be consecrated, and
+enter the Inner Temple. Are you prepared?” “I am, master,” she humbly
+replied.
+
+“To-morrow the Temple brothers will open the temple of bliss to you. You
+shall hear, see, and be silent.” “I will see, hear, and be silent,” she
+murmured.
+
+“When evening sets in, send away your servants,” commanded Cagliostro.
+“Let the doors stand open; they shall be guarded, that no one may enter
+but the summoned. Art thou prepared?”
+
+“I am, master!”
+
+“Withdraw now to your room, Wilhelmine, and elevate your thoughts in
+devotion and contrition, and await the future. Kneel, my daughter,
+kneel!” She sank upon her knees. “Bless me, master, bless me!” “I bless
+you!”
+
+She felt a hot, burning sensation upon her forehead, and suddenly a
+bright light shone in the obscure room. Wilhelmine screamed, and covered
+her eyes. When she ventured to look up, only soft moonlight
+penetrated from the high window into the apartment, and she was alone.
+“To-morrow--to-morrow, at midnight!” she murmured, shuddering, and
+casting a timid look around.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK II. ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES
+
+
+CHAPTER X. GOETHE IN BERLIN.
+
+
+“I wish I only knew whether it were a man, or whether the god Apollo
+has really appeared to me in human form,” sighed Conrector Moritz, as he
+paced his room--a strange, gloomy apartment, quite in keeping with the
+singular occupant--gray walls, with Greek apothegms inscribed upon them
+in large letters--dirty windows, pasted over with strips of paper;
+high, open book-shelves, containing several hundred books, some neatly
+arranged, others thrown together in confusion. In the midst of a chaos
+of books and papers stood a colossal bust of the Apollo-Belvedere upon
+a table near the window, the whiteness and beauty of which were in
+singular contrast, to the dust and disorder which surrounded it.
+
+At the back of the room was an open wardrobe, filled with gay-colored
+garments. A beautiful carpet of brilliant colors covered the middle of
+the dirty floor, and upon this paced to and fro the strange occupant
+of this strange room, Philip Charles Moritz, conrector of the college
+attached to the Gray Monastery. There was no trace of the bearing and
+demeanor which distinguished him at the parade at Potsdam yesterday--no
+trace of the young elegant, dressed in the latest fashion. To-day he
+wore a white garment, of no particular style, tied at the neck with a
+red ribbon (full sleeves, buttoned at the wrist with lace-cuffs); and,
+falling from the shoulders in scanty folds to just below the knees, it
+displayed his bare legs, and his feet shod with red sandals.
+
+His hair was unpowdered, and not tied in a cue, according to the
+fashion, but hung in its natural brown color, flowing quite loosely,
+merely confined by a red ribbon wound in among his curls, and hanging
+down in short bows at each temple like the frontlet of the old Romans.
+Thus, in this singular costume, belonging half to old Adam, and half
+to the old Romans, Philip Moritz walked back and forth upon the carpet,
+ruminating upon the beaming beauty of the stranger whose acquaintance
+he had so recently made, and whom he could not banish from his thoughts.
+“What wicked demon induced me to go to Potsdam yesterday?” said he to
+himself. “I who hate mankind, and believe that they are all of vulgar,
+ordinary material, yield to the longing for society, and am driven again
+into the world.”
+
+A loud knocking at the door interrupted this soliloquy, and the door
+opened at the commanding “Come in!”
+
+“It is he, it is Apollo,” cried Moritz, joyfully. “Come in, sir, come
+in--I have awaited you with the most ardent desire.”
+
+Moritz rushed to the young gentleman, who had just closed the door,
+and whose beautiful, proud face lighted up with a smile at the singular
+apparition before him. “Pardon me, I disturb you, sir; you were about to
+make your toilet. Permit me to return after you have dressed.”
+
+“You are mistaken,” cried Moritz, eagerly. “You find me in my usual
+home-dress--I like my ease and freedom, and I am of opinion that mankind
+will never be happy and contented until they return to their natural
+state, wearing no more clothing, but glorying in the beauty which
+bountiful Nature has bestowed upon her most loved and chosen subjects.”
+
+“Sir,” cried the other, laughing, “then benevolent Nature should
+adapt her climate accordingly, and relieve her dear creatures from the
+inclination to take cold.”
+
+“You may be right,” said Moritz, earnestly, “but we will not quarrel
+about it. Will you not keep your promise to reveal to me your name?”
+
+“Tell me your own once more. Tell me if this youth, whom I see before
+me in this ideal dress, is the same modest young man whom I met at
+the parade yesterday, and who presented himself as Philip Moritz?
+Then please to inform me whether you are the Philip Moritz who wrote a
+spirited and cordial letter to Johann Wolfgang Goethe some years since
+about the tragedy of ‘Stella,’ the representation of which had been
+forbidden at that time?”
+
+“Yes, I am the same Philip Moritz, who wrote to the poet Goethe to prove
+to him, with the most heart-felt sympathy, that we are not all such
+stupid fellows in Berlin as Nicolai, who pronounced the tragedy ‘Stella’
+immoral; that it is only, as Goethe himself called it, ‘a play for
+lovers.’”
+
+“And will you not be kind enough to tell me what response the poet made
+to your amiable letter?”
+
+“Proud and amiable at the same time, most gracefully he answered me, but
+not with words. He sent me his tragedy ‘Stella’ bound in rose-colored
+satin. [Footnote: “Goethe in Berlin,”--Sketches from his life at the
+anniversary of his one hundredth birthday.] See there! it is before the
+bust of Apollo on my writing-table, where it has lain for three years!”
+
+“What did he write to you at the same time?”
+
+“Nothing--why should he? Was not the book sufficient answer?”
+
+“Did he write nothing? Permit me to say to you that Goethe behaved like
+a brute and an ass to you!”
+
+“Sir,” cried Moritz, angrily, “I forbid you to speak of my favorite in
+so unbecoming a manner in my room!”
+
+“Sir,” cried the other, “you dare not forbid me. I insist upon it that
+that man is sometimes a brute and an ass! I can penitently acknowledge
+it to you, dear Moritz, for I am Johann Wolfgang Goethe himself!”
+
+“You, you are Goethe!” shouted Moritz, as he seized him with both hands,
+drawing him toward the window, and gazing at him with the greatest
+enthusiasm and delight. “Yes, yes,” he shouted, “you are either Apollo
+or Goethe! The gods are not so stupid as to return to this miserable
+world, so you must be Goethe. No other man would dare to sport such a
+godlike face as you do, you favorite of the gods!”
+
+He then loosed his hold upon the smiling poet, and sprang to the
+writing-table. “Listen, Apollo,” he cried, with wild joy. “Goethe is
+here, thy dear son is here! Hurrah! long live Goethe!”
+
+He took the rose-colored little book, and shouting tossed it to the
+ceiling, and sprang about like a mad bacchant, and finally threw himself
+upon the carpet, rolling over and over like a frolicksome, good-natured
+child upon its nurse’s lap.
+
+Goethe laughed aloud. “What are you doing, dear Moritz? What does this
+mean?” he asked.
+
+Moritz stopped a moment, looking up to Goethe with a face beaming with
+joy. “I cannot better express my happiness. Language is too feeble--too
+poor!”
+
+“If that is the case, then I will join you,” said Goethe, throwing
+himself upon the carpet, rolling and tumbling about. [Footnote: This
+scene which I relate, and which Teichman also mentions in his “Leaves
+of Memory of Goethe in Berlin,” has been often related to me by Ludwig
+Tieck exactly in this manner. Teichman believes it was the poet Burman.
+But I remember distinctly that Ludwig Tieck told me that it was the
+eccentric savant, Philip Moritz, with whom Goethe made the acquaintance
+in this original manner.--The Authoress.]
+
+All at once Moritz jumped up without saying a word, rushed to the
+wardrobe, dressed himself in modest attire in a few moments, and
+presented himself to Goethe, who rose from the carpet quite astounded
+at the sudden metamorphosis. Then he seized his three-cornered hat to go
+out, when Goethe held him fast.
+
+“You are not going into the street, sir! You forget that your hair is
+flying about as if unloosed by a divine madness.”
+
+“Sir, people are quite accustomed to see me in a strange costume, and
+the most of them think me crazy.”
+
+“You are aware that insane people believe that they only are sane, and
+that reasonable people are insane. You will grant me that it is much
+more like a crazy person to strew his hair with flour, and tie it up
+in that ridiculous cue, than to wear it as God made it, uncombed and
+unparted, as I do my beautiful hair, and for which they call me crazy!
+But, for Heaven’s sake, where are you going?” asked Goethe, struggling
+to retain him.
+
+“I am going to trumpet through every street in Berlin that the author of
+‘Werther,’ of ‘Clavigo,’ of ‘Gotz von Berlichingen,’ of ‘Stella,’ of the
+most beautiful poems, is in my humble apartment. I will call in all the
+little poets and savants of Berlin; I will drag Mammler, Nicolai, Engel,
+Spaulding, Gedicke, Plumicke, Karschin, and Burman here. They shall
+all come to see Wolfgang Goethe, and adore him. The insignificant poets
+shall pay homage to thee, the true poet, the favorite of Apollo.”
+
+“My dear Moritz, if you leave me for that, I will run away, and you will
+trouble yourself in vain.”
+
+“Impossible; you will be my prisoner until I return. I shall lock you
+in, and you cannot escape by the window, as I fortunately live on the
+third story.”
+
+“But I shall not wait to be looked in,” answered Goethe, slightly
+annoyed. “I came to see you, and if you run away I shall go also, and
+I advise you not to try to prevent me.” His voice resounded through the
+apartment, growing louder as he spoke, his cheeks flushed, and his high,
+commanding brow contracted.
+
+“Jupiter Tonans!” cried Moritz, regarding him, “you are truly Jupiter
+Tonans in person, and I bow before you and obey your command. I shall
+remain to worship you, and gaze at you.”
+
+“And it may be possible to speak in a reasonable manner to me,” said
+Goethe, coaxingly. “Away with sentimentality and odors of incense! We
+are no sybarites, to feed on sweet-meats and cakes; but we are men who
+have a noble aim in view, attained only by a thorny path. Our eyes must
+remain fixed upon the goal, and nothing must divert them from it.”
+
+“What is the aim that we should strive for?” asked Moritz, his whole
+being suddenly changing, and his manner expressing the greatest
+depression and sadness.
+
+Goethe smiled. “How can you ask, as if you did not know it yourself.
+Self-knowledge should be our first aim! The ancient philosophers were
+wise to have inscribed over the entrances to their temples, ‘Know
+thyself,’ in order to remind all approaching, to examine themselves
+before they entered the halls of the gods. Is not the human heart
+equally a temple? only the demons and the gods strive together therein,
+unfortunately. To drive the former out, and give place to the latter,
+should be our aim; and when once purified, and room is given for good
+deeds and great achievements, we shall not rest satisfied simply to
+conquer, but rise with gladness to build altars upon those places which
+we have freed from the demons; for that, we must steadily keep in view
+truth and reality, and not hide them with a black veil, or array them
+in party-colored rags. Our ideas must be clear about the consequences of
+things, that we may not be like those foolish men who drink wine
+every evening and complain of headache every morning, resorting to
+preventives.”
+
+Did Goethe know the struggles and dissensions which rent the heart of
+the young man to whom he spoke? Had his searching eyes read the secrets
+which were hidden in that darkened soul? He regarded him as he spoke
+with so much commiseration that Moritz’s heart softened under the genial
+influence of sympathy and kindness. A convulsive trembling seized him,
+his cheeks were burning red, and his features expressed the struggle
+within. Suddenly he burst into tears. “I am very, very wretched,” he
+sighed, with a voice suffocated by weeping, and sank upon a chair,
+sobbing aloud, and covering his face with his hands.
+
+Goethe approached him, and laid his hand gently upon his shoulder. “Why
+are you so miserable? Is there any human being who can help you?” he
+kindly inquired.
+
+“Yes,” sobbed Moritz; “there are those who could, but they will not, and
+I am lost. I stand upon the brink of a precipice, with Insanity staring
+at me, grinning and showing her teeth. I know it, but cannot retreat. I
+wear the mask of madness to conceal my careworn face. Your divine eyes
+could not be deceived. You have not mistaken the caricature for the true
+face. You have penetrated beneath the gay tatters, and have seen the
+misery which sought to hide itself there.”
+
+“I saw it, and I bewailed it, as a friend pities a friend whom he would
+willingly aid if he only knew how to do it.”
+
+“No one can help me,” sighed Moritz, shaking his head mournfully. “I am
+lost, irremediably lost!”
+
+“No one is lost who will save himself. He who is wrecked by a storm and
+tossed upon the raging sea, ought to be upon the watch for a plank by
+which he can save himself. He must keep his eyes open, and not let his
+arms hang idly; for if he allows himself to be swallowed up he becomes
+a self-murderer, who, like Erostratus, destroyed the holy temple, and
+gained eternal fame through eternal shame.”
+
+“What are you saying?” cried Moritz, “you, the author of ‘Werther,’ of
+that immortal work which has drunk the tears of the whole world, and has
+become the Holy Testament for unhappy souls!”
+
+“Rather say for lovers,” replied Goethe, “and add also those troubled
+spirits who think themselves poetical when they whine and howl; who cry
+over misfortune if Fate denies them the toy which their vanity, their
+ambition, or their amorousness, had chosen. Do not burden me with what
+I am not guilty of; do not say that wine is a poison, because it is
+not good for the sick. It is intended for well people; it animates and
+inspires them to fresh vigor. Now please to consider yourself well, and
+not ill.”
+
+“I am ill, indeed I am ill,” sighed Moritz. “Oh! continue to regard me
+with those eyes, which shine like stars into my benighted soul. I feel
+like one who has long wandered through the desert, his feet burnt with
+the sand, his hair scorched with the sun, and, exhausted with hunger and
+thirst, feels death approaching. Suddenly he discovers a green
+oasis, and a being with outstretched arms calling to him with a soft,
+angel-like voice: ‘Come, save thyself in my arms; feel that thou art not
+alone in the desert, for I am with thee, and will sustain thee!’”
+
+“And I say it to you from the bottom of my heart,” said Goethe,
+affectionately. “Yes, here is one, who is only too happy to aid you, who
+can sympathize with every sorrow, because he has himself felt it in his
+own breast, who may even say of himself, like Ovid: ‘Nothing human is
+strange to me.’ If I can aid you, say so, and I will willingly do it.”
+
+“No, you cannot,” murmured Moritz.
+
+“At least confide your grief to me; that is an alleviation.”
+
+“Oh, how kind and generous you are!” Moritz said, pressing the hand of
+his new-made friend to his bosom. “How much good it does me to listen to
+you, and look at your beautiful face! I believed myself steeled against
+every thing that could happen to mortals; that the fool which I would
+be had killed within me the higher man. I was almost proud to have
+succeeded in deceiving men; that they mistook my grotesque mask for my
+real face; that they point the finger at me, and laugh, saying to each
+other: ‘That is a fool, an original, whom Nature herself has chosen as
+a kind of court fool to society.’ No one has understood the cry of
+distress of my soul. Those who laughed at the comical fellow by day,
+little dreamed of the anguish and misery in which he sighed away the
+night.”
+
+“You not only wrong yourself, but you wrong mankind,” said Goethe,
+kindly. “In the world, and in literature, you bear an honored name;
+every one of education is familiar with your excellent work on ‘Prosody
+of the German Language’--has read also your spirited Journey to England.
+You have no right to ask that one should separate the kernel from
+the shell in hastily passing by. If you surround yourself with a wall
+bedaubed with caricatures, you cannot expect that people will look
+behind what seems an entrance to a puppet-show, to find holy temples,
+blooming gardens, or a church-yard filled with graves.”
+
+“That is just what I resemble,” said Moritz, with a melancholy air.
+“From the depths of my soul it seems so. Nothing but buried hopes,
+murdered ideals, and wishes trodden under foot. From childhood I have
+exerted myself against circumstances; I have striven my whole life--a
+pledge of my being against unpropitious Fate. Although the son of a
+poor tradesman, Nature had given me a thirst for knowledge, a love for
+science and art. On account of it I passed for a stupid idler in the
+family, who would not contribute to his own support. Occupation with
+books was accounted idleness and laziness by my father. I was driven to
+work with blows and ill-treatment; and, that I might the sooner equal
+my father as a good shoemaker, I was bound to the stool near his own.
+During the long, fearful days I was forced to sit and draw the pitched,
+offensive thread through the leather, and when my arms were lame, and
+sank weary at my side, then I was invigorated to renewed exertion with
+blows. Finally, with the courage of despair, I fled from this life of
+torture. Unacquainted with the world, and inexperienced, I hoped for the
+sympathy of men, but in vain. No one would relieve or assist me! Days
+and weeks long I have wandered around in the forest adjoining our little
+village, and lived like the animals, upon roots and herbs. Yet I was
+happy! I had taken with me in my flight two books which I had received
+as prizes, in the happy days that my father permitted me to go to the
+Latin school. The decision of the teacher that I was created for a
+scholar, so terrified my father, that he took me from the school, to
+turn the embryo savant, who would be good for nothing, into a shoemaker,
+who might earn his bread. My two darling books remained to me. In the
+forest solitude I read Ovid and Virgil until I had memorized them, and
+recited them aloud, in pathetic tones, for my own amusement. To-day I
+recall those weeks in the forest stillness as the happiest, purest, and
+most beautiful of my life.”
+
+“And they undoubtedly are,” said Goethe, kindly. “The return to Nature
+is the return to one’s self. Who will be an able, vigorous man and
+remain so, must, above all things, live in and with Nature.”
+
+“But oh! this happy life did not long continue,” sighed Moritz. “My
+father discovered my retreat, and came with sheriffs and bailiffs to
+seize me like a criminal--like a wild animal. With my hands bound, I was
+brought back in broad day, amid the jeers of street boys. Permit me to
+pass in silence the degradation, the torture which followed. I became a
+burden to myself, and longed for death. The ill-treatment of my father
+finally revived my courage to run away the second time. I went to a
+large town near by, and decided to earn my living rather than return
+to my father. To fulfil the prophecy of my teacher was my ambition. The
+privations that I endured, the life I led, I will not recount to you.
+I performed the most menial service, and worked months like a beast of
+burden. For want of a shelter, I slept in deserted yards and tumble-down
+houses. Upon a piece of bread and a drink of water I lived, saving,
+with miserly greediness, the money which I earned as messenger or
+day-laborer. At the end of a year, I had earned sufficient to buy an old
+suit of clothes at a second-hand clothing-store, and present myself to
+the director of the Gymnasium, imploring him to receive me as pupil.
+Bitterly weeping, I opened my heart to him, and disclosed the torture
+of my sad life as a child, and begged him to give me the opportunity
+to educate myself. He repulsed me with scorn, and threatened to give me
+over to the police, as a runaway, as a vagabond, and beggar. ‘I am no
+beggar!’ I cried, vehemently, ‘I will be under obligation to no one. I
+have money to pay for two years in advance, and during this time I shall
+be able to earn sufficient to pay for the succeeding two years.’ This
+softened the anger of the crabbed director; he was friendly and kind,
+and promised me his assistance.”
+
+“Poor boy!” sighed Goethe. “So young, and yet forced to learn that there
+is a power to which not only kings and princes, but mind must bow; to
+which science and art have submitted, as to their Maecenas! This power
+opened the doors of the Gymnasium to you.”
+
+“It was even thus. The director took pity upon me, and permitted me to
+enter upon my studies at once; he did more, he assured my future. Oh, he
+was a humane and kind man! When he learned that I possessed nothing but
+the little sum to which the drops of blood of a year’s toil still clung,
+then--”
+
+“He returned it to you,” interrupted Goethe, kindly.
+
+“No, he offered me board, lodging, and clothing, during my course at the
+Gymnasium.”
+
+“That was well,” cried Goethe. “Tell me the name of this honorable man,
+that I may meet him and extend to him my hand.”
+
+A troubled smile spread over Philip’s face. “Permit me for the time
+being to conceal the name,” he replied. “I received the generous
+proposal gratefully, and asked, deeply moved, if there were no services
+which I could return for so much kindness and generosity. It proved that
+there were, and the director made them known to me. He was unmarried,
+hence the necessity of men’s service. I should be society for him--be a
+companion, in fact; I should do what every grateful son would do for
+his father--help him dress, keep his room in order, and prepare his
+breakfast.”
+
+“That meant that you should be his servant!” cried Goethe, indignant.
+
+“Only in the morning,” replied Moritz, smiling. “Evenings and nights
+I should have the honor to be his amanuensis; I should look over the
+studies of the scholars, and correct their exercises; and when I had
+made sufficient progress, it should be my duty to give two hours to
+different classes, and I should read aloud or play cards with the
+director on leisure evenings. Besides, I was obliged to promise never
+to leave the house without his permission; never to speak to, or hold
+intercourse with, any one outside the hours of instruction. All these
+conditions were written down, and signed by both parties, as if a
+business contract.”
+
+“A transaction by which a human soul was bargained for!” thundered
+Goethe. “Reveal to me, now, the name of this trader of souls, that I may
+expose him to public shame!”
+
+“He died a year since,” replied Moritz, softened. “God summoned him
+to judgment. When the physician announced to him that the cancer was
+incurable, when he felt death approaching, he sent for me, and begged
+my forgiveness, with tears and deep contrition. I forgave him, so let
+me cease to recall the life I passed with him. By the sweat of my brow I
+was compelled to serve him; for seven long years I was his slave. I sold
+myself for the sake of knowledge, I was consoled by progress. I was the
+servant, companion, jester, and slave of my tyrant, but I was also the
+disciple, the priest of learning. In my own room my chains fell off. In
+the lonely night-watches I communed with the great, the immortal spirits
+of Horace, Virgil, and even the proud Caesar, and the divine Homer.
+Those solitary but happy hours of the night are never to be forgotten,
+never to be portrayed; they refreshed me for the trials of the day, and
+enabled me to endure them! At the close of seven years I was prepared to
+enter the university, and the bargain between my master and myself was
+also at an end. Freed from my tyrant, I bent my steps toward Frankfort
+University, to feel my liberty enchained anew. For seven years I had
+been the slave of the director; now I became the slave of poverty,
+forced to labor to live! Oh, I cannot recall those scenes! Suffice it to
+say, that during one year I had no fixed abode, never tasted warm
+food. But it is passed--I have conquered! After years of struggle, of
+exertion, of silent misery, only relieved by my stolen hours of blissful
+study, I gained my reward. I was free! My examination passed, I was
+honored with the degrees of Doctor of Philosophy and Master of Arts.
+After many intervening events, I was appointed conrector of the college
+attached to the Gray Monastery, which position now supports me.”
+
+“God be praised, I breathe freely!” answered Goethe, with one of those
+sunny smiles which, in a moment of joyful excitement, lighted up his
+face. “I feel like one shipwrecked, who has, at last, reached a safe
+harbor. I rejoice in your rescue as if it were my own. Now you are
+safe. You have reached the port, and in the quiet happiness of your
+own library you will win new laurels. Why, then, still dispirited and
+unhappy? The past, with its sorrows and humiliations, is forgotten, the
+present is satisfactory, and the future is full of hope for you.”
+
+“Full of misery is the present,” cried Philip, angrily, “and filled with
+despair I glance at the future. You do not see it with your divine
+eyes, you do not perceive it, poet with the sympathetic soul. You, too,
+thought that Philip Moritz had only a head for the sciences, and forgot
+that he had a heart to love. I tell you that he has a warm, affectionate
+heart, torn with grief and all the tortures of jealousy; that
+disappointed happiness maddens him. I was not created to be happy, and
+my whole being longs for happiness. Oh! I would willingly give my life
+for one day by the side of the one I love.”
+
+“Do not trifle,” said Goethe, angrily. “He who has striven and struggled
+as you have, dare not offer, for any woman, however beautiful and
+seductive, to yield his life, which has been destined to a higher aim
+than mere success in love. Perhaps you think that God has infused a
+ray of His intelligence into the mind of man, created him immortal,
+and breathed upon him with His world-creating breath only, to make him
+happy, and find that happiness in love! No! my friend, God has given to
+man like faculties with Himself, and inspired him, that he might be a
+worthy representative of Him upon the earth; that he should prove, in
+his life, that he is not only the blossom, but the fruit also, of
+God’s creation. Love is to man the perfume of his existence. She may
+intoxicate him for a while, may inspire him to poetical effusions,
+to great deeds, even; but he should hesitate to let her become his
+mistress, to let her be the tyrant of his existence. If she would
+enchain him, he must tear himself away, even if he tear out his own
+heart. Man possesses that which is more ennobling than mere feeling; he
+has intellect--soul.”
+
+“Ah!” cried Moritz, “it is easy to see that you have never loved madly,
+despairingly. You have never seen the woman whom you adore, and who
+perhaps reciprocates your passion, forced to marry another.”
+
+A shadow flitted over Goethe’s brow, and the flashing brilliancy of his
+eyes was changed to gloomy sadness. Gently, but quickly, he laid his
+hand upon Moritz’s shoulder, saying: “In this hour, when two souls are
+revealed to each other, will I acknowledge to you that which I have
+never spoken of. I, too, love a woman, who loves me, and yet can never
+be mine, for she is married to another. I love this sweet woman as I
+have never loved a mortal being. For years my existence has belonged to
+her, she has been the centre of all my thoughts. It would seem to me
+as if the earth were without a sun, heaven without a God, if she should
+vanish from life. I even bless the torture which her prudery, her
+alternate coldness and friendliness cause me, as it comes from her, from
+the highest bliss of feeling. This passion has swept through my soul, as
+if uniting in itself all my youthful loves, till, like a torrent, ever
+renewing itself, ever moving onward, it has become the highway of my
+future. Upon this stream floats the bark laden with all my happiness,
+fame, and poetry. The palaces which my fancy creates rise upon its
+shore. Every zephyr, however slight, makes me tremble. Every cloud which
+overshadows the brow of my beloved, sweeps like a tempest over my own.
+I live upon her smile. A kind word falling from her lips makes me
+happy for days; and when she turns away from me with coldness and
+indifference, I feel like one driven about as Orestes by the Furies.”
+
+“You really are in love!” cried Moritz. “I will take back what I have
+said. You, the chosen of the gods, know all the human heart can suffer,
+even unhappy love.”
+
+Almost angry, and with hesitation, Goethe answered him: “I do not call
+this passion of mine an unhappy one, for in the very perception of it
+lies happiness. We are only wretched when we lose self-control. To this
+point Love shall never lead me. She yields me the highest delight, but
+she shall never bring me to self-destruction. Grief for her may, like
+a destructive whirlwind, crush every blossom of my heart; but she shall
+never destroy me. The man, the poet, must stand higher than the lover;
+for where the latter is about to yield to despair, the former will rise,
+and, with the defiance of Prometheus, challenge the gods to recognize
+the godlike similitude, that man can rise superior to sorrow, never
+despairing, never cursing Fate if all the rosy dreams of youth are not
+realities, but with upturned gaze stride over the waste places of life,
+consoling himself with the thought that only magnanimous souls can
+suffer and conquer magnanimously. Vanquished grief brings us nearer to
+the immortal, and gradually bears us from this vale of sorrow up to
+the brighter heights, nearer to God--the earth with her petty confusion
+lying like a worthless tool at our feet!”
+
+“It is heavenly to be able to say that, and divine to perceive it,”
+ cried Moritz, bursting into tears. “The miseries of life chain me to
+the dust, and do not permit me to mount to the heights which a hero like
+Goethe reaches victorious. It is indeed sublime to conquer one’s self,
+and be willing to resign the happiness which flees us. But see how weak
+I am--I cannot do it! I can never give up the one I love. It seems as if
+I could move heaven and earth to conquer at last, and that I must die if
+I do not succeed--die like Werther.”
+
+Goethe’s eyes flashed with anger, and with heightened color he
+exclaimed: “You all repeat the same litany--do not make me answerable
+for all your weaknesses, and blame poor Werther for the creations of
+your own imagination. I, who am the author of Werther, am free from this
+abominable sentimentality. Why cannot others be, who only read what I
+have conceived? But pardon my violence,” he continued, with a milder
+voice and gentler manner. “Never did an author create a work which
+brought him at the same time so great fame and bitter reproach as this
+work has brought to me. ‘The Sorrows of Young Werther’ have indeed been
+transformed into the sorrows of young Goethe, and I even fear that old
+Goethe will have to suffer for it. I have spoken to you as a friend to
+a friend: cherish my words, take them to heart, and arise from the dust;
+shake off the self-strewn ashes from your head. Enter again as a
+brave champion the combat of life--summon to your aid cunning, power,
+prudence, and audacity, to conquer your love. Whether you succeed
+or not, then you aim at the greatest of battles--that of mind over
+matter--then remember my farewell words. From the power which binds all
+men he frees himself who conquers himself.--Farewell! If ever you need
+the encouragement of a friend, if ever a sympathizing soul is necessary
+to you, come to Weimar; sympathy and appreciation shall never fail you
+there.”
+
+“Oh! I will surely go,” answered Moritz, deeply moved, and pressing
+heartily Goethe’s offered hand.
+
+“One thing more I have to say to you: Live much with Nature; accustom
+yourself to regard the sparrow, the flower, or the stone, as worthy of
+your attention as the wonderful phoenix or the monuments of the ancients
+with their illegible inscriptions. To walk with Nature is balsam for
+a weary soul; gently touched by her soft hands, the recovery is most
+rapid. I have experienced it, and do experience it daily. Now, once
+more, farewell; in the true sense of the word fare-thee-well! I wish
+that I could help you in other ways than by mere kind words. It pains me
+indeed that I can render you no other aid or hope. You alone can do what
+none other can do for you.--Farewell!”
+
+He turned, and motioning to Moritz not to follow him, almost flew down
+the stairs into the street. Drawing a long breath, he stood leaning
+against the door, gazing at the crowd--at the busy passers-by--some
+merrily chatting with their companions, others with earnest mien and in
+busy haste. No one seemed to care for him, no one looked at him. If
+by chance they glanced at him, Johann Wolfgang Goethe was of no more
+consequence to them than any other honest citizen in a neighboring
+doorway.
+
+Without perhaps acknowledging it to himself, Goethe was a little vexed
+that no one observed him; that the weather-maker from Weimar, who was
+accustomed to be greeted there, and everywhere, indeed, with smiles and
+bows, should here in Berlin be only an ordinary mortal--a stranger among
+strangers. “I would not live here,” said he, as he walked slowly down
+the street. “What are men in great cities but grains of sand, now blown
+together and then asunder? There is no individuality, one is only a
+unit in the mass! But it is well occasionally to look into such a
+kaleidoscope, and admire the play of colors, which I have done, and
+with a glad heart I will now fly home to all my friends--to you, beloved
+one--to you, Charlotte!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE.
+
+
+Wilhelmine Enke had passed the day in great anxiety and excitement, and
+not even the distraction of her new possession had been able to calm the
+beating of her heart or allay her fears. Prince Frederick William had
+arrived early in the morning, to bid her farewell, as he was to march
+in the course of the day with his regiments from Potsdam. With the
+tenderest assurances of love he took leave of Wilhelmine, and with tears
+kissed his two children, pressing them to his heart. As he was about
+to enter his carriage he returned to the house to embrace his weeping
+mistress, and reassure her of his fidelity, and make her promise him
+again and again that she would remain true to him, and never love
+another.
+
+It was not alone the farewell to her beloved prince which caused
+Wilhelmine such anxiety and made her so restless. Like a dark cloud the
+remembrance of Cagliostro’s mysterious appearance arose in her mind,
+overshadowing her every hour more and more, filling her soul with
+terror. In vain did she seek refuge near her children, trying to cheer
+and forget herself in their innocent amusement--one moment running about
+the garden with them, then returning to the house to reexamine it. Her
+thoughts would revert to Cagliostro, and the solemnities which were to
+take place at her house that night. The thought terrified her that at
+nightfall she was obliged to send away all her servants, and not even be
+permitted to lock herself in the lonely, deserted house. For the great
+magician had commanded her to let the doors of her house stand open; he
+would place sentinels at every entrance, and none but the elect would be
+allowed to enter. Wilhelmine had not the courage to resist this command.
+As evening approached, she sent the cook, with other servants, to her
+apartment at Berlin, ordering them to pack her furniture and other
+effects, and send them by a hired wagon to Charlottenburg the following
+morning. An hour previous to this she had sent the nurse and two
+children to Potsdam with a similar commission, ordering them to
+return early the next day. Alone she now awaited with feverish anxiety
+Cagliostro’s appearance. Again and again she wandered through the
+silent, deserted rooms frightened at the sound of her own footsteps, and
+peering into each room as if an assassin or robber were lurking there.
+She had many enemies--many there were who cursed her, and, alas! none
+loved her--she was friendless, save the prince, who was far away. The
+tears which the princess had shed on her account weighed like a heavy
+burden upon her heart, burning into her very soul in this hour of
+lonely, sad retrospection. She tried in vain to excuse herself, in the
+fact that she had loved the prince before his marriage; that she had
+sacrificed herself to him through affection, and that she was not
+entitled to become his wife, as she was not born under the canopy of a
+throne.
+
+From the depths of her conscience there again rose the tearful, sad face
+of the princess, accusing her as an adulteress--as a sinner before God
+and man! Terrified, she cried: “I have truly loved him, and I do still
+love him; this is my excuse and my justification. She is not to be
+pitied who can walk openly by the side of her husband, enjoying the
+respect and sympathy of all to whom homage is paid, and who, one
+day, will be queen! I am the only one, I alone! I stand in the shade,
+despised and scorned, avoided and shunned by every one. Those who
+recognize me, do so with a mocking smile, and when I pass by they
+contemptuously shrug their shoulders and say to one another, ‘That
+was Enke, the mistress of the Prince of Prussia!’ All this shall be
+changed,” she cried aloud; “I will not always be despised and degraded!
+I will be revenged on my crushed and scorned youth! I will have rank and
+name, honor and position, that I will--yes, that I will, indeed!”
+
+Wilhelmine wandered on through the silent rooms, all brilliantly
+illuminated, a precaution she had taken before dismissing her servants.
+The bright light was a consolation to her, and, at least, she could not
+be attacked by surprise, but see her enemy, and escape. “I was a fool,”
+ she murmured, “to grant Cagliostro this reception to-night. I know
+that he is a charlatan! There are no prophets or wizards! Yet, well I
+remember, though a stranger to me, in Paris, how truthfully he brought
+before me my past life; with what marvellous exactness he revealed to me
+secrets known only to my Maker and myself. Cagliostro must be a wizard,
+then, or a prophet; he has wonderful power over me also, and reads
+my most secret thoughts. He will assist me to rise from my shame
+and degradation to an honored position. I shall become a rich and
+influential woman! I will confide in him, never doubting him--for he is
+my master and savior! Away with fear! He has said that the house should
+be guarded, and it will be! Onward then, Wilhelmine, without fear!”
+
+She hastened to the large drawing-room, in order to see the effect of
+the numerous wax-lights in the superb chandeliers of rock crystal.
+The great folding-doors resisted all her efforts to open them. “Who
+is there?” cried a loud, threatening voice. Trembling and with beating
+heart Wilhelmine leaned against the door, giddy with fear, when a
+second demand, “Who is there? The watchword! No one can pass without the
+countersign!” roused her, and she stole back on tiptoe to her room. “He
+has kept his word, the doors are guarded!” she whispered. “I will go
+and await him in my sitting-room.” She stepped quickly forward, when
+suddenly she thought she heard footsteps stealing behind her; turning,
+she beheld two men wrapped in black cloaks, with black masks, stealthily
+creeping after her. Wilhelmine shrieked with terror, tore open the
+door, rushed across the next room into her own boudoir. As she entered a
+glance revealed to her that the two masks approached nearer and nearer.
+She bolted the door quickly, sinking to the floor with fright and
+exhaustion. “What are they going to do? Will they force open the door
+and murder me? How foolish, how fearfully foolish to have sent away all
+my servants. Now I understand it: Cagliostro is not only an impostor--a
+charlatan, but he is a thief and an assassin. I have been caught in the
+trap set for me, like a credulous fool! He and his associates will rob
+me and plunder my beautiful villa, but just given to me, and, when they
+have secured all, murder me to escape betrayal.” With deep contrition,
+weeping and trembling, Wilhelmine accused herself of her credulity and
+folly. For the first time in her life she was dismayed and cowardly, for
+it was the first time that she had had to tremble for her possessions.
+It was something so new, so unaccustomed to her to possess any thing,
+that it made her anxious, and she feared, as in the fairy tale, that
+it would dissolve into nothing. By degrees her presence of mind and
+equanimity were restored. The stillness was unbroken--and no one forced
+the door, to murder the mistress of this costly possession. Gathering
+courage, she rose softly and stole to the window. The moon shone
+brightly and clearly. The house stood sideways to the street, and
+separated from it, first by thick shrubbery, and then a trellised lawn.
+Whoever would enter, directly turned into a path leading from the street
+into the shrubbery. Just upon this walk, Wilhelmine perceived masked men
+approaching, one by one, as in a procession--slowly, silently moving on,
+until they neared the gate of the trellised square, where two tall, dark
+forms were stationed to demand the countersign, which being given, they
+passed over the lawn into the house.
+
+“I will take courage; he has told me the truth, the house is well
+guarded,” murmured Wilhelmine. “None but the summoned can enter; I
+belong to the number, and when it is time Cagliostro will come and
+fetch me. Until then, let me await quietly the result,” said she, as
+she stretched herself comfortably upon the sofa, laughing at her former
+cowardice and terror. “No one can enter this room unless I open the
+door, and fortunately there is but one exit. The wizard himself could
+not gain admittance unless the walls should open or the bolt drive hack
+for him. Hark! it strikes eleven, one tedious hour longer to wait. I
+must try to rest a little.” She laid her head upon the cushion, closing
+her eyes. The calm and the quiet were refreshing after the excitement
+of the day. Gradually her thoughts became confused--dim pictures floated
+past her mental vision, her breathing became shorter, and she slept. The
+stillness was unbroken, save the clock striking the quarters of every
+hour. Scarcely had the last quarter to midnight sounded, when the window
+was softly opened, and a dark form descended into the room. He listened
+a moment, looking at the sleeping one, who moved not; then extinguished
+the light, creeping toward the door. Wilhelmine slept on. Suddenly it
+seemed to her as if sunbeams blinded her, and she started up from a
+profound sleep. It was indeed no dream. A white form stood before her of
+dazzling brilliancy, as if formed of sun-rays.
+
+“Rise and follow me!” cried a commanding voice. “The Great Kophta
+commands you. Mask yourself, and, as your life is dear to you, do
+not raise it for one instant!” Wilhelmine took the mask, upon which
+flickered a little blue flame, and held it close to her face. “Pray
+in spirit, then follow me.” Wilhelmine followed without opposition the
+bright form which moved before her through the dark rooms. She felt as
+if under the influence of a charm; her heart beat violently, her
+feet trembled, but still she felt no more wavering or fear; a joyous
+confidence filled her whole being. With her eyes bent upon the moving
+form of light, she went onward in the obscurity, and entered the great
+drawing-room, where profound darkness and silence reigned. A slight
+murmur, as of those in prayer, fell on her car, and it seemed as if
+numberless black shadows were moving about. “Kneel and pray,” whispered
+a voice near her. Her conductor had disappeared, and the gloom of night
+surrounded her. Wilhelmine knelt as she was bidden, but she could not
+pray; breathless expectation and eager curiosity banished all devotion
+and composure. Occasionally was heard, amid the silence and darkness,
+a deep sigh, a suppressed groan, or a shriek, which died away in
+the murmuring of prayer. Suddenly a strange music broke the
+stillness--sharp, piercing tones, resonant as bells, and increasing in
+power, sometimes as rich and full as the peals of an organ, then gentle
+and soft as the murmuring wind, or a sorrow-laden sigh. Then, human
+voices joined the music, swelling it to a wonderful and harmonious
+choir--to an inspired song of aspiration, Of fervent expectation, and
+imploring the coming of him who would bring glory and peace, filling the
+hearts of believers with godliness. The chorus of the Invisibles had not
+ceased, when a strange blue light began to glimmer at the farther end
+of the room; then it shot like a flash through the dark space. As their
+dazzled eyes were again raised, they saw in a kind of halo, in the midst
+of golden clouds, a tall, dazzling figure, in a long, flowing robe,
+sparkling with silver. The lovely bust, the beautiful arms and
+shoulders, were covered with a transparent golden tissue, over which
+fell the long, curly hair to the waist. A glittering band, sparkling
+like stars, was wound through the hair, which surrounded a feminine face
+of surpassing beauty. Perpetual youth glowed upon her full, rosy cheeks;
+bright intelligence beamed from the clear, lofty brow; peace, joy, and
+happiness, were revealed in the smile of the red lips; love and passion
+flashed from the large, brilliant eyes. The choir of the Invisibles now
+sang in jubilant tones: “The eternal Virgin, the everlasting, holy, and
+pure being, greets the erring, blesses those that seek, causing them to
+find, and partake with joy.”
+
+The heavenly woman raised her lovely arms, extending them as if for a
+tender embrace. A captivating smile lighted up her features; a fiery
+glance from her beautiful eyes seemed to greet every one, separately,
+to announce to them joy and hope. While they regarded her entranced with
+delight, the golden cloud grew denser, and covered the virgin with her
+luminous veil. It then gradually disappeared, with the golden splendor.
+The chorus of the Invisibles ceased, and the music died away in gentle
+murmurs. Upon the spot where the beaming apparition was visible, there
+now stood a tall priest, in a long, flowing black robe; a pale-blue
+light surrounded him, and rendered the dark outline distinctly visible
+by the clear background. Snow-white hair and a black mask made him
+unrecognizable to every one.
+
+Extending his arms, as if blessing them, the masked one cried: “My
+beloved, the unknown fathers of our Holy Order of Rosicrucians send me
+to you, and command me to salute you with the greeting of life. I am
+to announce to you that the time of revelation approaches, and that the
+sublime mysteries of earth and Nature will soon be revealed to you. As
+the rose is unfolded in her glowing red, which has so long slept in her
+lap of green leaves, you represent the green leaves, and Nature is the
+rose. She will disclose herself to you with all her secrets. In her
+calyx you will find the elixir of life and the secret of gold, if you
+walk in the path of duty; if you exercise unconditional obedience to the
+Invisible Fathers; if you submit yourselves in blind confidence to their
+wisdom; if you swear to abstain from every self-inquiry, and to distrust
+your own understanding.” [Footnote: So run the very words in the laws of
+the Rosicrucians.--See “New General German Library,” vol. lvi., p. 10.]
+
+“We swear it!” cried solemn voices on all sides.
+
+“Swear, blindly, silent obedience to all that the Invisible Fathers
+shall announce to you through their directors, or shall order you under
+the holy sign of the Rosicrucians by word or writing.”
+
+“We swear it!” again resounded in solemn chorus.
+
+“Shame, disgrace, perdition, and destruction, be your curse,” thundered
+the priest, “if you deviate in thought even from your oath; if you seek
+to ponder and reflect; if you measure by your own limited reason the
+dispositions and operations of the sublime fathers, to whom Nature has
+revealed herself, and to whom all the secrets of heaven and earth
+are disclosed. Eternal destruction, and all the tortures of hell and
+purgatory, be the portion of the doubting! Damned and proscribed be
+the traitor to the holy order! Listen, ye spirits of the deep, and ye
+spirits of darkness, withdraw from here in terror, ere the anger of
+the Invisible Fathers fall upon you like destroying lightning! Open, ye
+doors, that the wicked may flee, and only the good remain!”
+
+With a wave of the hand the great folding-doors now opened, and a flood
+of light from the adjoining apartment revealed the drawingroom to be
+filled with the dark forms of men enveloped in black cloaks, hoods drawn
+over the heads, and black masks covering the faces--all kneeling close
+together and exactly resembling one another. No one moved, the doors
+closed again, darkness reigning. The priest was no longer visible,
+though continuing to speak: “Only the good and obedient are now
+assembled here, and to them I announce that life is to us, and death
+awaits beyond the door to seize the traitor who would disclose the holy
+secrets of the order. Be faithful, my brothers, and never forget that
+there is no place on the earth where the traitor is secure from the
+avenging sword of the Invisible Fathers. None but the good and obedient
+being here assembled, I now announce to you that the time of revelation
+approaches, and that it will come when you are all zealously endeavoring
+to extend the holy order, and augment the number of brothers. For the
+extension of the order is nothing less than universal happiness. It
+emanates alone from the Invisible Fathers, who link heaven to earth and
+who will open again the lost way to Paradise. The supreme chiefs of our
+holy order are the rulers of all Nature, reposing in God the
+Father. [Footnote: The wording of the laws of the Order of the
+Rosicrucians.--See “New General German Library,” vol. M., p. 10. ] They
+are the favorites of God, whom the Trinity thinks worthy of his highest
+confidence and revelation. If you will take part in the revelations of
+God, and witness the disclosing of the hidden treasures of Nature, swear
+that you will be obedient to the holy order, and that you will strive to
+gain new members.
+
+“We swear it,” resounded in an inspired chorus through the room. “We
+swear unconditional obedience to the Invisible Fathers. We swear to
+strive with all our means for the extension of the holy order.
+
+“Unbelief, free-thinking, and self-knowledge are of the devil, who
+steals abroad, to turn men from God. The pride of reason seeks to
+misguide men, and lead them away from God and the secrets of Nature. The
+devil has chosen his disciples, who teach sinful knowledge and arrogant
+free-thinking, and who are united in Berlin in the Order of the
+Illuminati. The Invisible Fathers command you to fight this shameful
+order in word, deed, and writing. If any of you are acquainted with
+one of the members, you shall regard him as your most deadly enemy, and
+shall hate and pursue him as you hate sin and as you pursue crime. You
+shall flee his intercourse as you would that of the devil, otherwise you
+will be damned, and the Invisible Fathers never will forgive you, and
+the secrets of Nature will be withheld from you. Swear therefore hate,
+persecution, and eternal enmity, to the Order of the Illuminati. This I
+command you in the name of the Invisible Fathers.”
+
+“We swear it! We swear hate, persecution, and eternal enmity, to the
+Order of the Illuminati!”
+
+“Every one who belongs to the order is damned and cursed; and if it were
+your brother or your father, so shall you curse and damn him!”
+
+“We swear it!”
+
+“Then I bring you the blessing of the Invisible rulers and fathers, who
+announce to you, through me, that every lost one which you gain for the
+Order of the Rosicrucians, and consequently lead back to God and Nature,
+is a step toward entering the holy sanctuary of revelation, where the
+elixir of life and the tincture of gold awaits you. Every cursed member
+of the Illuminati becomes one of the blessed when you lead him from the
+path of vice in penitence and contrition, and gain him to the Order of
+the Rosicrucians; and he who can prove that he has gained twelve new
+members for our holy order mounts a round higher in the ladder of
+knowledge, and rises to a new degree. At the sixth grade he passes from
+the Inner to the Middle Temple, where all the secrets of the universe
+and of Nature are disclosed. Be mindful of this, and recruit. Until
+we meet again, let the watchword be, ‘Curses and persecution for the
+devil’s offspring, the Illuminati!’”
+
+“Curses and persecution for the devil’s offspring, the Illuminati, we
+swear!”
+
+“Now depart! Pay your tribute at the door, which you owe, and receive in
+return the new sign of the order, which will serve to make the brothers
+known to each other. Only the directors and the members of the sixth
+grade shall knock again at this door after paying tribute, and,
+receiving the new word of life, the guard will let them enter. Depart! I
+dismiss you in the name of the Holy Father and the Trinity!”
+
+“Take this cloak, and cover yourself, that no one can recognize you,”
+ whispered a person near Wilhelmine, and threw a soft covering over her.
+“Will you now depart, or seek further in the way of knowledge?”
+
+“I will seek further,” answered Wilhelmine, firmly.
+
+“You wish to enter the sixth grade, and learn the secrets of Nature?”
+
+“I do!”
+
+“Then I will give you the watchword of the order. But woe unto you if
+you reveal it! Swear that you will never betray it!”
+
+“I swear it!”
+
+“Then, listen!”
+
+Wilhelmine felt a hot breath upon her cheek, and a voice whispered in
+her ear the significant words: “Now depart; pay your tribute, you cannot
+tarry here. Go, and return with the chosen!”
+
+A hand seized her arm and conducted her to the door. Almost blinded by
+the bright light, she entered the adjoining apartment, where it seemed
+as if she saw through a veil muffled figures go forward to the centre,
+and deposit money in a marble basin which stood upon a kind of altar;
+naphtha burned in silver basins upon each end of it, and a muffled
+figure stood near.
+
+Wilhelmine advanced to the altar, and with quick decision drew a diamond
+ring from her finger, and begged permission to deposit it instead of
+money.
+
+The muffled figure bowed, and handed to her the new watchword--a picture
+of a Madonna, with the sign of the Rosicrucians underneath. Then she
+returned, and awaited at the door, with a little gathering, which
+must consequently belong to the sixth grade. Gradually the others had
+withdrawn; the naphtha-flames upon the altar were extinguished, and
+the wax-lights of the centre lustres had grown dim, and gradually
+extinguished themselves. Soon the doors were opened, and a bright light,
+as of the sun’s rays, filled the hall. Three blasts of trumpets sounded,
+and a choir of immortal voices sang, “Enter, ye blessed ones! Enter, ye
+elect!”
+
+They entered, whispering the sign to the guards, who stood with drawn
+swords, and passed on to the throne upon which stood a couch, surrounded
+with blooming flowers and covered with a cloud of silvery gauze. They
+soon discovered a secret something was hidden under the cloud, though
+they knew not whether it were child, woman, or man. They knelt upon the
+lower step of the throne, with folded hands and bowed heads, praying in
+a low voice. A solemn stillness reigned, the prayers died away on the
+lips, and the hearts scarcely beat for anxiety and expectation. Suddenly
+a voice, which seemed to come from the silver cloud, so distant and
+lofty, and rolling like majestic thunder, cried, “He comes, the chosen
+one! The Great Kophta comes!”
+
+The folding-doors flew open, and the Great Kophta entered.
+Wilhelmine recognized in the majestic figure, enveloped in a flowing,
+silver-embroidered satin robe, with a band of brilliants around his
+brow, the handsome face of Cagliostro, beaming as if in an ecstasy. He
+saluted the brothers with a gentle voice, and bade them approach and
+touch his hand. As Wilhelmine did so, a thrill ran through her whole
+being, and she sank overpowered at his feet. He bowed and breathed
+upon her. “You are chosen, ye heavenly brothers,” he said, in a sweet,
+melodious voice; “the secrets of heaven and earth are disclosed to you.
+I receive you in the Holy Order of the Favorites of God, which I founded
+with Enoch and Elias when we dwelt in the promised land. From them I
+received the Word of Life, and they sent me to the ancient sages of
+Egypt, who revealed to me in the pyramids the secret sciences which
+subject the earth and all her treasures to our command. He who devotes
+himself to me with fidelity will receive eternal life and the secret of
+immortality.”
+
+“We believe in thee, blessed one of God,” murmured the kneeling ones;
+“we know that we receive life and salvation from thee. Bend to us, and
+give us of the breath of immortality!”
+
+He bowed and breathed upon them, and they broke forth in words of
+thankfulness and delight.
+
+Only Wilhelmine kept silent; she only failed to feel the magical
+influence, and he bowed again to her, fixing his great fiery eyes
+upon her. “Thou art called, thou art chosen,” he said. “Mount to the
+tabernacle, and lift the veil.”
+
+She did as commanded, and beheld the figure of a wonderful woman
+stretched upon the couch as in deep sleep, clothed in transparent robes.
+“Lay your hand upon her brow, and direct in your thoughts a question to
+the prophetess of the order, and she will answer you!” Upon the lofty,
+white brow of the sleeping one, she laid her hand; immediately a smile
+flitted over her beautiful face, and she nodded. “Yes,” said she, “you
+must believe. You dare not doubt. He is the elect, the holy Magus!”
+ Wilhelmine trembled, for the answer was suited to the question. “Demand
+a second question of the prophetess,” commanded Cagliostro. Again she
+laid her hand upon the brow of the sleeping one, and again she smiled
+and nodded with her beautiful head. “Fear not,” she replied; “he will
+always love you, and will never reject you, only you must not lead him
+astray from the right course--but guide him to the temple of faith and
+knowledge. When you cease to do it, you are lost. Shame upon earth and
+damnation will be your portion.” The answer was exact--for Wilhelmine
+had prayed to know if the prince would always love and never reject her.
+“Still a third question,” cried Cagliostro. In silence Wilhelmine asked,
+and the prophetess answered aloud: “You will be countess, you will
+become a princess, you will possess millions, you will have the whole
+world at your feet, if you call to your aid the Invisible Fathers,
+and implore the power and miraculous blessing of the Great Kophta.”
+ Wilhelmine, deeply moved, sank overpowered upon her knees, and cried
+aloud: “I call upon the Invisible Fathers for aid and assistance;
+I implore the power and miraculous blessing of the Great Kophta.”
+ Suddenly, amid the rolling of thunder and intense darkness, Wilhelmine
+felt herself lifted up--borne away, as loud prayers were uttered around
+her. Then she felt herself lowered again and with the freedom of motion.
+“Fly! fly from the revenge of the immortals, if you still doubt, still
+mistrust!” cried a fearful voice above her. “Behold how the immortals
+revenge themselves.” Immediately a light began to dawn before her, a
+form rose from the darkness like her own. She beheld herself kneeling,
+imploring, her face deluged with tears, and before her a tall, erect,
+muffled figure, with a glittering sword in his uplifted arm, which
+sank gradually lower and lower until it pierced her bosom and the blood
+gushed forth. Wilhelmine shrieked and fainted. She witnessed no more
+miracles, beard no more prophecies and revelations which the magi made
+to the elect. She beheld not the appearance of the blessed spirits,
+which at the importunity of the brothers flitted through the apartment.
+She heard not Cagliostro take leave of Baron von Bischofswerder, when
+all had withdrawn, saying, “I have now exalted you to be chief director
+of the holy order. You will at once receive orders from the Invisible
+Fathers, announced to you in writing, and you will follow them
+faithfully.”
+
+“I will follow them faithfully,” humbly answered Bischofswerder.
+
+“You will be rewarded by the knowledge of life and of money; you shall
+discover the philosopher’s stone, and the secret of gold shall be
+revealed to you, when you perform what the Invisible Fathers demand.”
+
+“I will do every thing,” cried Bischofswerder, fervently; “only make
+known to me their commands.”
+
+“They desire, at the present, that you seek to be the confidant of the
+Prince of Prussia. Gain his affection, then govern him, making yourself
+indispensable to him. Surround him with servants and confidants that you
+can rely upon. Inspire him with devotion to the holy order. Become, now,
+the friend of the prince, that you may, one day, rule the king. You are
+the chief of the order in Prussia; the more members you gain the more
+secrets will be revealed to you. The holy fathers send me afar, but I
+shall return: if you have been active and faithful, I will make known to
+you a great secret and bring you the elixir of life.”
+
+“When will you return, master?” asked Bisehofswerder, enthusiastically.
+
+Cagliostro smiled. “Before the crown prince of Prussia becomes king. Ask
+no further. Be faithful!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THE JESUIT GENERAL
+
+
+No one remained in the drawing-room but Cagliostro and the beautiful
+woman who still lay quietly on the couch, upon the throne. Cagliostro
+approached her, and, raising the veil, regarded her a moment, with an
+expression of the most passionate tenderness: “We are alone, Lorenza,”
+ said he. She opened her great eyes, and looked around the dimly-lighted
+room; then, fixing them upon Cagliostro, who stood before her in his
+brilliant costume of magician, she burst into a merry laugh, so loud and
+so irresistible, that Cagliostro was seized involuntarily, and joined
+her.
+
+“Oh! was it not heavenly, was it not a glorious comedy, and did I not
+play divinely, Joseph? Was I not bewitching as the goddess of Nature?”
+
+“You looked truly like a goddess, Lorenza, and there is nothing more
+beautiful than you, in heaven or upon earth. But come, my enchantress,
+it is time to break up, as we are to set off early to-morrow morning.”
+
+“Have we now much money? Was the tribute richly paid?”
+
+“Yes, we have a hundred louis d’ors and a diamond ring from the mistress
+of this house.”
+
+“Give it to me,” cried Lorenza.
+
+“Not the ring, Lorenza, but the diamond, so soon as I have a false stone
+set in the ring--which I must keep as a ring in the chain which will
+bind this woman to our cause.”
+
+“Was I not astonishingly like her? Was it not almost unmistakable?”
+
+“Yes, wonderfully deceptive. I shuddered myself as I saw the dagger
+pointed at your bosom.”
+
+“And the blood, how it gushed forth, Joseph!” Lorenza burst into a
+merry laugh again, and Cagliostro joined her, but suddenly stopped,
+and, listening, turned toward the door, which he had closed after
+Bischofswerder departed. It seemed as if he heard a noise--a peculiar
+knocking. Four times it was repeated, and Cagliostro waved his hand
+to Lorenza not to speak. Again were heard the four peculiar rhythmical
+sounds. “Be quiet, for Heaven’s sake be quiet, Lorenza! Let me cover you
+with the veil; it is a messenger from the Invisibles.” Cagliostro flew
+to the door, unbolted it, and stood humbly near the entrance. A masked
+figure, enveloped in a cloak, opened it, and entered, rebolting it.
+
+Slowly turning toward Cagliostro, he harshly demanded, “Whose servant
+are you?”
+
+“The servant of the Invisible Rulers and Fathers,” he humbly answered.
+
+“Who are the Invisible Fathers?”
+
+“The four ambassadors of the great general of the exiles.”
+
+“Call him by that name which he bore before a heretic pope in Rome, a
+weak empress, a free-thinking emperor in Germany, a lost-in-sin French
+emperor, and a heretic Spanish minister, condemned him to banishment and
+destruction.”
+
+“General of the Jesuits,” he answered respectfully, bowing lower.
+
+“Do you know the sign by which he may be recognized?”
+
+“Yes, by a ring with the likeness of the founder of the order, the holy
+Ignatius Loyola.”
+
+“Then look, and recognize me,” cried the mask, extending his hand to
+Cagliostro.
+
+“The General,” he murmured, frightened, gazing at the ring upon the
+small, white hand of the other. “The holy founder of the order himself!”
+ He seized his hand and pressed it to his lips, sinking upon his knees.
+The mask remained standing before the magician, as lowly as he might bow
+himself, who was still arrayed in his brilliant costume with the band
+upon his brow sparkling like diamonds.
+
+With a cold, reserved manner he answered, “I am he, and am come here to
+give you my commands by word of mouth.”
+
+“Command me; I am thy humble servant, and but a weak tool in thy hands.”
+
+“It is my will that you should become a powerful tool in my hands. Rise,
+for I will speak to the man who must stand erect in the storm. Rise!”
+ The proud commander was now an humble, obedient servant. He rose slowly,
+standing with bowed head.
+
+“When and where did we last meet?” demanded the mask.
+
+“In 1773, at Rome.”
+
+“In the year of curse and blasphemy,” said the mask, in a harsh voice.
+“The year in which the infamous Pope Clement XVI. condemned the holy
+order, and hurled his famous bull, Dominus redemptor noster. The holy
+order, condemned and disbanded by his infamous mouth, were changed
+into holy martyrs, without country, without possessions or rights, as
+persecuted fugitives, wandering around the world, to the wicked a scorn,
+to the pious a lamentable example of virtue and constancy. Exiled and
+persecuted, you fled to a house of one of our order, and there we for
+the first time met. The daughter of this man was your beloved. Tell me
+why did you conceal yourself after flying from Palermo? I will see if
+the elevated one ungratefully forgets the days of his degradation.”
+
+“They accused me in Palermo of falsifying documents by which rightful
+owners were deprived of their lawful possessions. They threw me
+into subterranean dungeons, and I was near dying, when the Invisible
+Protectors rescued me.”
+
+“Was the accusation well founded? Had you committed the crime you were
+accused of?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Cagliostro, in a low voice, “I was guilty.”
+
+“For whom, by whose authority?”
+
+“For the pious fathers, who commanded me, and whose pretensions to
+the possessions of the Duc Costa Rica were clearly proved by those
+documents.”
+
+“You then learned the power and the gratitude of our order. From
+underground prisons they freed you, and procured a way of escape to
+Rome, to find a safe asylum in the house of a believer. But just at
+that time condemnation burst upon us, and from a powerful order we were
+changed into a persecuted one. The forger Joseph Balsamo sought the
+brazier Feliciano, who gave him money, letters of recommendation, and
+instructed him how to serve the order, and procure an agreeable life for
+himself. Is it not so?”
+
+“It is so,” answered Cagliostro, softly. “It was the order of the
+General which united you in marriage to your beloved Lorenza Feliciana,
+who initiated you in the secret sciences and the secrets of Nature, that
+you might employ them for the well-being of humanity.”
+
+“It is so, master.”
+
+“You implored also, as you were about to separate, to see the face of
+your benefactor, to engrave it upon your heart. Would you now be able to
+recognize it?”
+
+“I could in an instant, among thousands.”
+
+The General slowly raised the mask; a pale, emaciated face was visible,
+with great black eyes in sunken sockets, thin bloodless lips, and a
+high, bony brow. “Do you recognize me?”
+
+“No!” sadly answered Cagliostro, “it is not the same face.”
+
+“You see, my son, man changes, but knowledge not. I am another, and yet
+the same, for the outward human form is only the vessel of the eternal
+band into which everlasting truth and the holy doctrines are poured.
+If the vessel breaks, it is replaced by another, and an inexhaustible
+spring. Thought and holy knowledge flow into the renewed vessel. I am a
+new vessel, but the same spirit which formerly spoke to you. I know your
+past life, and for what purpose you are in the world. As the General
+then spoke to you, so speak I now. The unholy have put the holy under
+a ban--they have persecuted and condemned us. The Holy Order of the
+Fathers of Jesus is lifeless before the world, but not before God.
+Jesuits do not die, for they bear eternal life in them, and there will
+a day come when they will burst forth from darkness into light. Go, my
+son, and help prepare the day, help smooth the way, that we may walk
+therein. Have you obeyed?”
+
+“I have consecrated my whole life to it, your eminence. I have wandered
+around the world, and everywhere striven to disseminate the doctrine of
+the Invisible Fathers, and win disciples and adherents to the order. The
+Brothers of the Egyptian Masons, the Brothers of the Rosicrucians, are
+the disciples which I have won, and you know well there are many mighty
+and illustrious men among them.”
+
+“I know it, and I am satisfied you are an active and useful tool. This I
+came to tell you, that I might stimulate and advise you. Great deeds you
+shall perform, great achievements the holy Ignatius Loyola announces by
+my mouth. The world lies in sin, and the devil strides victorious over
+it, since the holy order has been proscribed and persecuted by the
+wicked. The devil is arrogant progress and boasting reason. They who
+listen to him think themselves wise when they are fools, and speak of
+their enlightenment while they still wander in the dark. To combat this
+reason, to oppose this intelligence, is the task of our order, which
+will never die. For God Sent it forth to the world to fight the devil
+of progress, who is the ruler of darkness. I have observed you, I have
+followed you, and I am satisfied. But I await still greater things from
+you.”
+
+“What shall it be? Speak, O master; command, and I obey!”
+
+“You shall strive throughout Europe for the restitution of the holy
+order. You shall subject to it all minds; make the rich, the powerful,
+the eminent and great, serviceable to it. Into the Orders of the
+Rosicrucians and Egyptian Masons you shall gather all the stray and
+isolated sheep into a flock, to await with longing the coming of the
+shepherd, and prepare a place for him. To the holy Church you shall
+consecrate the band of brothers, the only blessed Church, which is the
+lofty abode of the father of our order. To us belongs the world; you
+shall assist to reconquer it. Unbelievers shall be fought with every
+weapon. Every deception, slander, persecution, and murder, are holy if
+used for the benefit of the holy order. You shall shrink from nothing
+which is useful and beneficial for the sublime goal. The murder of a
+prince is no sin, but a just punishment, when it is necessary to remove
+a mighty enemy. If you create revolutions, cause nations to tear each
+other to pieces in grim civil war, these revolutions will be sanctified,
+the civil wars blessed, if they serve to strengthen the power of our
+order, and gain victory at last against the opponents. Only through our
+order can happiness reenter the world, and mankind be rescued. If the
+Holy Fathers do not sit in the council of princes, if they are not the
+conscience of the powerful, and steer the machine of state, the world
+goes to destruction, and mankind is lost. You shall help, my son, to
+turn aside the evil, and prepare happiness for earth. You have already
+done much, but much more is required. Go and work miracles; belief in
+them sanctifies the mind. Our fathers will sustain you everywhere, for
+you well know they are always present, though it is imagined they are
+not. The infamous Ganganelli has stripped them of their uniform, but
+not annihilated them, as we are, and ever shall be. I have sent out nine
+thousand brothers in Europe for the benefit of the order, and you will
+recognize them by the watchword. They will serve you as you will serve
+them. If danger menaces you, our brothers will know it, and rescue you.
+You will be unassailable, so long as you work for the order, and win
+disciples for it. Prussia is our important station as you rightly
+judged, and I extol you for your foresight. You prepare the future, for
+here it will be! When the royal mocker of religion dies, then comes a
+new kingdom, and the Rosicrucians will rise to power. Vices as well as
+virtues must serve us; therefore Dischofswerder and Wilhelmine Enke are
+useful means for holy purposes. That you have recognized it I praise
+you. Continue, my son, as you have begun, and you shall become powerful
+upon the earth. Not a hair of your head shall be touched so long as you
+are faithful to the Invisible Fathers. But so soon as you turn traitor
+to the holy cause you are lost, and our anger will crush you!”
+
+“Never will I turn traitor,” cried Cagliostro, holding up his hands as
+if taking an oath.
+
+“I hope not. Our enemies shall be your enemies, and our friends your
+friends. If one of the brothers orders you in my name, ‘Kill this man or
+that woman,’ so kill them! Swear it!”
+
+Shuddering, Cagliostro repeated, “I swear it!”
+
+“As soon as one of the brothers orders you, in my name, ‘Rescue this man
+or that woman,’ so do every thing; even risk and sacrifice your life to
+rescue him.”
+
+“I swear it.”
+
+“You stand in the holy temple of the order, but also under its avenging
+sword. Be mindful of it in all your acts. The world is open to you, and
+our influence will be with you everywhere. You shall win the hearts of
+the great and the mighty to us, and place the Order of the Rosicrucians
+on the steps of the throne. The Great Kophta shall lead believers to
+us.”
+
+“The Great Kophta will perform all that you command, as he is only
+the humble servant of his general,” said Cagliostro, kissing the hand
+extended to him.
+
+“Do not kiss the hand, it is only that of an inferior mortal: kiss the
+ring, for it is the imperishable sign of our immortal saint.”
+
+“I kiss the ring of the immortal Ignatius Loyola, and swear eternal
+fidelity, constant obedience, and firm love, until death.”
+
+“Rise! for the time has come for us to separate. I have provided for
+the journeys the necessary means. Here are letters of recommendation to
+Warsaw and Mittau, others to Paris and London; but, the most important
+of all, letters of credit upon well-known bankers to the value of five
+hundred thousand dollars--all valid, though delivered years hence.”
+
+“A half million!” cried Cagliostro, almost terrified.
+
+“Does a half million astonish you?” repeated the General, and his gray,
+fleshless face was distorted into a smile. “The Great Kophta must travel
+and live like a prince, that he may dazzle the eyes of the brothers, and
+subjugate the minds of the powerful. We give you the money, but remember
+you are always under the watchful eye of the order, and there is no spot
+on earth where you can hide yourself from our vengeance with the trust
+confided in you. You shall spend it to buy souls and win thrones, for
+hearts and consciences are sold; money will buy every thing. Take your
+letters of credit; you shall live as a great lord, and the Great Kophta
+shall be equal with princes.”
+
+He handed Cagliostro five sealed letters, saying: “They are made out for
+five years; only one for each year, as the number indicates. Number one
+is for this year, and number five is only valid at the expiration of
+five years. The order is mindful of your security, and thus five years
+of your life are freed from earthly care. You shall work in spirit,
+and you shall enchant the world, that it may be saved through the only
+saving Church, and the Holy Order.”
+
+He bowed a farewell, making the sign of the cross upon Cagliostro, and
+bent his steps to the throne, raising the veil which enveloped Lorenza.
+She looked up to him with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, smiling. By
+this she would express her thanks for the princely gift to her husband,
+and swear to the General her delight, her fidelity, and love. He
+regarded her as coldly and calmly as a physician a patient.
+
+“Yes, holy father, I have heard all,” she said, with a sweet, flute-like
+voice. “My heart is filled with gratitude and emotion.”
+
+“Prove it by assisting your husband to attain the goal for which we send
+him forth. I have already said that vice must serve virtue, Lorenza.
+Beauty is a power, and if it serves holy purposes, so is it sanctified.
+Employ your beauty to win adherents to the order, and extend the power
+of the Rosicrucians in every land, and among all nations.”
+
+“I swear that this shall be my holiest endeavor,” cried Lorenza, rising.
+
+The General pressed her back upon the pillow, saying: “Remain, for there
+is no one here for you to enchant. I bring you pardon for your sins, and
+an indulgence for every sin which you will commit, if you swear to serve
+faithfully the holy Church and the pious fathers of Jesus.”
+
+“I swear,” solemnly cried Lorenza.
+
+“Here is the letter of indulgence from Pius VI. himself, made out in
+your name for you. Take it, and perform your duty.” He laid down the
+parchment provided with the papal seal upon her shoulder, and drawing
+the veil over her made the sign of the cross, saying, “I bless you, and
+give you absolution for your sins.”
+
+“Bless me also, lord and master,” cried Cagliostro, kneeling upon the
+lowest step to the throne.
+
+“I bless you in the name of Loyola. Remain upon your knees, and follow
+me not.” He extended his hands over him, and blessed him, then slowly
+withdrew.
+
+The first beams of the morning sun shone through the great window-panes,
+lighting up with its golden rays Cagliostro’s kneeling form. He remained
+with his head bowed until the General had passed out. “He is gone;
+Heaven be praised, he is gone!”
+
+“Yes, he is gone,” repeated Lorenza, springing from the couch. “Is it
+true, has he given you half a million?”
+
+Cagliostro held up with triumphant air the letters. “See, these
+addresses are upon the first banking-houses in Rome, Paris, London, and
+Berlin!”
+
+“Do you believe that they are genuine?”
+
+“I am convinced of it.”
+
+“Then we have attained our aim; we are rich and powerful.”
+
+“No,” answered Cagliostro, mournfully, “we are poorer than ever. This
+money makes us slaves, makes us dependent tools. Did you not hear him
+say, ‘You are admitted into the Temple, but the avenging sword of the
+order everywhere hangs over you.’”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. A PENSIONED GENERAL.
+
+
+“Wife,” cried the General von Werrig, limping around the room, leaning
+upon his crutch, “here is the answer from our most gracious lord and
+king. The courier arrived to-day from the war department, and sent it to
+me by an express.”
+
+“What is the king’s answer?” asked the general’s wife, a pale, gaunt
+woman, with a pock-marked face, harsh, severe features, dull gray eyes,
+which never beamed with emotion, and thin, bloodless lips, upon which
+a smile never played. “What is the king’s answer?” she repeated, in
+a rough voice, as her husband, puffing and blowing from the effort of
+walking, sank down upon a chair, and dried his fat, ruby face with a red
+cotton pocket-handkerchief.
+
+“I have not read it,” panted the old man. “I thought I would leave the
+honor to you, as you, my very learned wife, wrote the letter to his
+majesty.”
+
+His wife was not in the least astonished at this thoughtful conduct of
+her husband. She impetuously seized the sealed document, and, retiring
+to the window-niche, slowly unfolded it, whilst the old general fixed
+his little gray eyes upon her emotionless face. His own was bloated and
+red, expressing the greatest anxiety and expectation. Perfect stillness
+reigned for some minutes, only the regular strokes of the pendulum
+were heard from the clock on the wall; and, as the hands pointed to the
+expiration of the hour, a cuckoo sprang out of the tree painted over the
+dial, and eleven times her hoarse, croaking voice was heard.
+
+“It gets every day more out of tune,” growled the general, as he
+looked up to the old, yellow dial, and ran his eye over the cords which
+supported the weights. Then glancing around the room, he saw everywhere
+age, decay, and indigence. There was an old divan, with a patched, faded
+covering of silk, and a grandfather’s arm-chair near it, the cushion of
+which the general knew, by the long years of experience, to be hard as a
+stone. A round table stood near the divan, covered with a shabby woollen
+cover, to hide the much-thumbed, dull polish. A few cane-chairs against
+the wall, an old black-oak wardrobe near the door, and the sewing-table
+of Madame von Werrig in the window-niche, completed the furniture of
+the room. At the window hung faded woollen curtains, and on the green
+painted walls some pictures and portraits, conspicuous among them a
+beautiful portrait of the king, painted on copper, which represented
+Frederick in his youthful beauty. It was a morose, sullen-looking room,
+arranged most certainly by its feminine occupant, and harmonized exactly
+with her fretful face and angular figure, void of charms. At last the
+general broke the silence with submissive voice: “I pray you, Clotilda,
+tell me what the king wrote.”
+
+She folded the paper, joy beaming in her eyes. “Granted! every thing
+granted!”
+
+The general jumped up to embrace his wife with youthful activity, in
+spite of the gout. “You are a capital wife,” he cried, at the same time
+giving her a loud, smacking kiss upon her cold, gray cheek. “It was the
+brightest, cleverest act of my life marrying you, Clotilda.”
+
+“I might well say the reverse, Emerentius,” she replied, complainingly.
+“It surely was not sensible for me, a young lady from such a genteel
+family, and so spoiled, to marry an officer whom the king ennobled upon
+the battle-field, and who possessed nothing but his captain’s pay--a
+fickle man, and a gambler, too.”
+
+“Yes, Clotilda, love usurped reason,” soothingly replied the general;
+“love is your excuse.”
+
+“Nonsense!” cried Madame von Werrig. “Love is never an excuse; it is
+folly.”
+
+“Well, let us suppose, then, that you did not marry for love, only from
+pure reason, because you found that it was quite time to espouse some
+one; and that, in spite of your many ancestors and genteel family, no
+other chance was offered you, unfortunately no one but this captain,
+whom the king ennobled upon the battle-field of Leuthen on account of
+his bravery, and who was a very handsome, agreeable officer, expecting
+still further promotion. And you were not deceived. I was major, when
+the Hubertsburger treaty put an end to a gay war-life. You will remember
+I was advanced during peace; his majesty did not forget that I cut a
+way for him through the enemy, and he made me lieutenant-colonel and
+colonel, when I was obliged to resign on account of this infamous gout,
+and then I received the title of general.”
+
+“Without ‘excellency,’” replied his wife, dryly. “I have not even
+this pleasure to be called ‘excellency.’ It would have been a slight
+compensation for my sad, miserable existence, and vexed many of
+the female friends of my youth if they had been obliged to call me
+‘excellency.’ But my marriage brought me only cares, not even a title.”
+
+“Do not forget a lovely daughter, Clotilda. Our Marie is beautiful,
+wise, and good, and through her you will yet have tranquil happiness.
+For you say the king has granted all we wish.”
+
+“Every thing!” repeated the wife, with emphasis. “We have at last
+finished with want and care, and can count upon an independent, quiet
+old age, for God has been gracious, and forced you, from the gout, to
+give up gambling, and we are freed from the misery which has so often
+threatened us from your unhappy passion.”
+
+“At the beginning, I played from passion; afterward, I only played to
+win back what I had lost.”
+
+“And in that manner played away all we possessed, and played upon your
+word of honor, so that for years the half of our pension went to pay
+your gambling-debts. Heaven be thanked, the king did not know it, or we
+would have experienced still worse!”
+
+“I pray you, beloved Clotilda, do not fret yourself needlessly about the
+past; it is all over, and, as you say, I am unfortunately a prisoner in
+the house from the gout, which shields me from the temptation.”
+
+“I did not say unfortunately; I said ‘Heaven be praised, the gout had
+put an end to your fickle life.’”
+
+“Then, thank Heaven, my dear; we will not quarrel about it. It is past,
+and, as the king has granted all, we shall have a pleasant life now.”
+
+“We will soon receive from our son-in-law a yearly pension, which will
+be paid to me, and I shall spend it.”
+
+The general sighed. “In that case I fear that I shall not get much of
+it.”
+
+“At any rate, more than I have ever received from your pension.”
+
+“There is but one thing wanting,” replied the general, evasively,
+“Marie’s consent.”
+
+Madame von Werrig gave a short, gruff laugh, which did not in the least
+brighten her sullen face. “We will not ask her consent, but command it.”
+
+The general remarked, timidly, shrugging his shoulders, “Marie had a
+very decided character, and--”
+
+“What do you hesitate to speak out for? What--and--”
+
+“I think she still loves the Conrector Moritz.”
+
+A second laugh, somewhat menacing, sounded like a challenge. “The
+schoolmaster!” she cried, contemptuously.
+
+“Let her dare to tell me again she loves the schoolmaster; she the
+daughter of a general, and a native-born countess of the empire!”
+
+“My dear, it was your fault--the only fault you ever committed, perhaps.
+How could you let such a young, handsome, and agreeable man come to the
+house as teacher to our daughter?”
+
+“How could I suppose my daughter was so degenerated as to love a common
+schoolmaster, and wish to marry him?”
+
+“It is truly unheard of, and it would make any one angry, my dear wife,
+for she insists upon loving him.”
+
+“She will not insist, she will do what she is commanded to do--my word
+for it! But why talk about it? It is better to decide the matter at
+once.”
+
+So Frau von Werrig rose with a determined manner, and rang the small
+brass bell which was upon the sofa-table. But a few seconds elapsed
+before a little, crooked servant appeared at the side-door, with her
+dirty apron put aside by tucking the corner in her belt. “Go to my
+daughter, and tell her to come down immediately!”
+
+The servant, instead of hastening to obey the order, remained standing
+upon the threshold. “I dare not go,” said she, in a hoarse, croaking
+voice. “Fraulein told me not to disturb her to-day, for she has still
+two bouquets of flowers to arrange, and two lessons to give, and she is
+so busy that she is not at home to visitors. She torments herself from
+morning till night.”
+
+“I order you to tell Fraulein to come down at once; we have something
+important to tell her. No contradiction! go, Trude!”
+
+The servant understood the cold, commanding tone of the mother, and
+dared not disobey.
+
+“It is nothing good that they have to tell her,” grumbled Trude, as she
+hurried up the stairs which led from the first story into the little,
+low room in the attic, under the sloping roof. Here and there a few
+tiles could be lifted, which lighted the garret sufficiently to show the
+door at the end. “May I come in, my dear Fraulein? it is Trude.”
+
+“The door is open,” cried a sweet voice, and Trude entered. It is a
+most charming little room, just that of a young girl. The bed has a
+snow-white covering, and white curtains, suspended from a hook in the
+wall around it. The same curtains at the low gable-windows, whose
+depth, so to speak, made a light anteroom to the real gloomy one in the
+background. In this little anteroom the young girl had placed all that
+was necessary for her pleasure and use. There were the most beautiful,
+sweet-scented flowers upon the window-stool; in a pretty metal cage was
+a light-colored canary. There were also pretty engravings, and upon the
+table stood a vase filled with superb artificial flowers, and before
+it sat the possessor of this room, the daughter of General and Frau von
+Werrig, surrounded with her work-tools, paper, and colored materials--a
+young girl, scarcely twenty, of a proud, dignified appearance, but
+simply and gracefully dressed. According to the fashion of the day, her
+hair was slightly powdered, and raised high above her broad, clear
+brow with a blue rosette, and ends at the side. The nobly-formed
+and beautiful face was slightly flushed, and around the month was an
+expression of courageous energy. As old Trude entered, the young girl
+raised her eyes from the rose-bud which she was just finishing, and
+looked at her. What beautiful black eyes they were as they sparkled
+underneath the delicately-arched, black eyebrows!
+
+“Now, old one,” said she, kindly, “what do you wish? Did you forget that
+I wanted to work undisturbed to-day?”
+
+“Didn’t forget it, my Fraulein, but--”
+
+“But you have forgotten that up here, in my attic-room, I am not your
+Fraulein, but your Marie, whom you have taken care of and watched over
+when a child, and whose best and truest friend you have been. Come, give
+me your hand, and tell me what you have to say.”
+
+Old Trude shuffled hurriedly along in her leather slippers. Her old,
+homely face looked almost attractive, with its expression of glowing
+tenderness, as she regarded the beautiful, smiling face before her,
+and laid her hard brown hand in the little white one extended to her.
+“Marie,” she said, softly and anxiously, “you must go down at once to
+your mother and father. They have something very important to tell you.”
+
+“Something very important!” repeated Marie, laying aside her work. “Do
+you know what it is?”
+
+“Nothing good, I fear,” sighed the old woman. “A soldier has been here
+from the war department and brought a letter for the general, and he
+told me that it was sent from the king’s cabinet at Breslau.”
+
+“Oh, Heaven! what does it mean?” cried Marie, frightened, and springing
+up. “Something is going to happen, I know. I have noticed certain
+expressions which escaped my father; the proud, threatening manner of my
+mother; but above all the bold importunity of that man, whom I despise
+as one detests vice, stupidity, and ennui. They will not believe that I
+hate him, that I rather--”
+
+“Marie, are you not coming?” called the mother, with a commanding voice.
+
+“I must obey,” she said, drawing a long breath, and hastening to the
+door, followed by Trude, who pulled her back and held her fast upon the
+very first step. “You have forbidden me to speak of him, but I must.”
+
+Marie stood as if rooted to the spot, her face flushed, and in
+breathless expectation looking back to old Trude.
+
+“Speak, Trude,” she softly murmured.
+
+“Marie, I saw him to-day, an hour ago!”
+
+“Where, Trude, where did you see him?”
+
+“Over on the corner of Frederick Street, by the baker’s. He stood
+waiting for me, as he knows I always go there. He had been there two
+hours, and feared that I was not coming.”
+
+“What did he say? Quick! what did he say?”
+
+“He said that he was coming to see you to-day at twelve o’clock; that he
+would rather die than live in this way.”
+
+“To-day? and you have just told me of it!”
+
+“I did not mean to say any thing at all about it; I thought it would be
+better, and then you would not have to dissemble. But now, if any harm
+comes to you, you know he is coming, and will stand by you!”
+
+“He will stand by me--yes, he will--”
+
+“Marie!” cried her mother, and her dry, gaunt figure appeared at the
+foot of the stairs. Marie flew down to the sitting-room of her parents,
+following her mother, who took her place in the niche at the open window
+without speaking to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. THE KING’S LETTER.
+
+
+“Marie,” said the general’s wife, after seating herself upon the hard
+cushion of the divan, near which sat the general in his arm-chair,
+busily stroking his painful right leg--“Marie, take a chair, and sit
+near us.”
+
+Marie noiselessly brought a cane-chair, and seated herself by the table,
+opposite her parents.
+
+“We have just received a communication from the king’s cabinet,”
+ said the mother, solemnly. “It is necessary that you should know the
+contents, and I will read it aloud to you. I expressly forbid you,
+however, to interrupt me while I am reading, in your impetuous
+manner, with your remarks, which are always of the most obstinate and
+disagreeable kind. You understand, do you, Marie?”
+
+“Perfectly, mother; I will listen without interrupting you, according to
+your command.”
+
+“This communication is naturally addressed to your father, as I wrote to
+the king in his name.”
+
+“I did not know that you had written to his majesty at all, dear
+mother.”
+
+The mother cast a furious glance at the gentle, decided face of her
+daughter. “You already forget my command and your promise to listen
+without interrupting me. I did, indeed, write to his majesty, but it is
+not necessary to tell you what I, or rather your father, solicited,
+as you will hear it in the answer from our most gracious king. It runs
+thus: ‘My faithful subject: I have received your petition, and I was
+glad to learn by this occasion that you are well, and that you now lead
+a steady, reasonable life. Formerly you gave good cause of complaint;
+for it is well known to me that you led a dissolute life, and your
+family suffered want and misfortune from your abominable chance-games.
+You know that I have twice paid your debts; that at the second time I
+gave you my royal word of assurance that I would never pay a
+groschen for you again. If you gave yourself up to the vice, and made
+gambling-debts, I would send you to the fortress at Spandau, and deprive
+you of your pension. Nevertheless you played again, and commenced your
+vicious life anew. Notwithstanding which, I did not send you to prison
+as I threatened, and as you deserved, because I remembered that you
+had been a brave soldier, and did me a good service at the battle of
+Leuthen. For this reason I now also grant your request, that, as you
+have no son, your name and coat-of-arms may descend to your son-in-law.
+The name of Werrig-Leuthen is well worthy to be preserved, and be an
+example to succeeding generations. I give my permission for Ludwig
+Ebenstreit, banker, to marry your daughter and only child, and--’”
+
+Marie uttered a cry of horror, and sprang from her seat. “Mother!--”
+
+“Be still! I commanded you not to interrupt me, but listen, with
+becoming respect, to the end, to the words’ of his majesty.” And, with
+a louder voice, occasionally casting a severe, commanding glance at her
+daughter, she read on: “‘And call himself in future Ludwig Werrig von
+Leuthen. I wish that he should honor the new name, and prove himself a
+true nobleman. Ludwig Ebenstreit must give up, or sell, without delay,
+his banking business, as I cannot permit a nobleman to continue the
+business of citizen, and remain a merchant. A nobleman must either be a
+soldier or a landed proprietor; and if your future son-in-law will not
+be either, he can live upon his income, which must indeed be ample. But
+I command him to spend it in the country, not go to foreign countries to
+spend what he has gained in the country. If he should do it, it will
+not be well with him, and he shall be brought back by force. You may
+communicate this to him, and he can judge for himself. I will have the
+letters of nobility made out for him, for which he shall pay the sum of
+one hundred louis d’ors to the ‘Invalids’ at Berlin. It depends upon him
+whether as a true nobleman he will not give my poor ‘Invalids’ a greater
+sum. The marriage shall not take place until the letters of nobility
+have been published in the Berlin journals, for I do not wish the
+daughter of a general, and a countess, to marry beneath her. You can
+prepare every thing for the wedding, and let them be married as soon as
+publication has been made. I will give the bride a thousand thalers for
+a dowry, that she may not go to her rich husband penniless; the money
+will be paid to your daughter from the government treasury at her
+receipt. As ever I remain your well-disposed king, FREDERICK.’
+
+“And here on the margin,” continued the general’s wife, looking over to
+her husband with malicious pleasure, “the king has written a few lines
+in his own hand: ‘I have given orders that the money shall be paid to
+your daughter in person, with her receipt for the same, for I know you,
+and know that you do not play, not because you have not the money, but
+the gout. If you had the cash and not the gout, you would play your
+daughter’s dowry to the devil, and that I do not wish, for a noble
+maiden should not marry a rich husband as poor as a church mouse.
+FREDERICK.’”
+
+A profound stillness prevailed when the reading was finished. The
+general busied himself, as usual, rubbing his gouty leg with the palm
+of his hand. Marie sat with her hands pressed upon her bosom, as if she
+would force back the sighs and sobs which would break forth. Her great,
+black eyes were turned to her mother with an expression of painful
+terror, and she searched with a deathly anxiety for a trace of sympathy
+and mercy upon her cold, immovable face.
+
+Her mother slowly folded the letter, and laid it upon the table. “You
+know all now, Marie--that, as it becomes parents, we have disposed
+of your future and your hand. You will submit to their wishes without
+murmuring or opposition, as it becomes an obedient, well-brought-up
+daughter, and receive the husband we have chosen for you. He will
+come today to hear your consent, and you from this day forth are the
+betrothed of the future Herr von Werrig. Of course from this very hour
+you will cease the highly improper and ungenteel business which you have
+pursued. You must not make any more flowers, or give any more lessons.
+The time of such degradation and humiliation is past, and my daughter
+can no longer be a school-mistress. You have only to write the receipt
+to-day, and I will go with you to the treasury to get the money.”
+
+“I will not write the receipt,” said Marie, gently but firmly. Her
+mother, in the act of rising, sank back upon the divan; and the general,
+apparently quite occupied with his leg, stopped rubbing, and raised his
+red, bloated face to his daughter in astonishment. “Did I understand
+rightly your words, that you would not write the receipt?”
+
+“Yes, mother, I said so; I cannot and will not write it,” replied Marie,
+gently.
+
+“And why cannot you, and will you not write it?” said her mother,
+scornfully.
+
+“Because I have no right to the money, and cannot take it, mother, as I
+will never be the wife of the man you intend me to marry.”
+
+The general sprang with a savage curse from his arm-chair, and would
+have rushed to his daughter, but his wife pushed him back into his seat,
+and approached Marie, who rose, regarding her mother with a firm, sad
+expression. “Why can you not be the wife of the man we have chosen for
+you? Answer me, WHY you cannot?”
+
+“You know, mother,” she replied, and gradually her voice assumed a more
+decided tone, her cheeks reddened, and an inspired expression beamed
+from her eyes, and pervaded her whole being--“you know, mother, that
+I can never be the wife of Herr Ebenstreit, for I do not love him. I
+despise and abominate him, because he is a man without honor; he knows
+that I do not love him, and yet he insists upon marrying me. If it were
+not so, if I did not despise and abominate him, I would not receive his
+suit and marry him.”
+
+“Why not?” cried the general, shaking his fist at his daughter.
+
+“Why not?” cried the mother, with a cold, icy glance, void of pity or
+anger.
+
+Marie encountered these looks with beaming eyes. “Because I am betrothed
+to another,” and the words came like a cry of joy from her
+heart--“because I am engaged to my beloved Moritz!”
+
+“Shameless, obstinate creature, have we not forbidden it?” cried her
+father.
+
+“Stop!” interrupted his wife, with a commanding wave of her hand, which
+silenced the obedient husband immediately. “It belongs to me to question
+her, for I am her mother, and my daughter owes me submission and
+obedience above all things.--Answer me, Marie, did you not know that we
+had forbidden you to speak to this man, or have any communication with
+him? Did you not know that I, your mother, had menaced you with a
+curse if you married this man, or even spoke to the miserable, pitiable
+creature?”
+
+“Mother,” cried Marie, vehemently, “he is not a poor, miserable
+creature. You may hate him, but you dare not outrage the noble, the
+good, and just man!”
+
+“He is a good-for-nothing fellow,” cried her father; “he has tried to
+win a minor behind the parents’ back. He is a shameful, good-for-nothing
+seducer.”
+
+“He is dishonorable,” cried the general’s wife--“a dishonorable man, who
+has misused our confidence. We confided to him our daughter to teach,
+and paid him for it. He improved the opportunity to make a declaration
+of love, and stole the time from us to infatuate the heart of our
+daughter with flattery, and from his pupil win a bride.”
+
+“Oh, unworthy, shameful slander!” cried Marie, her eyes flashing with
+anger. “You well know that it is a vile scandal, that Moritz was no
+paid teacher. If he had been--if he had felt obliged to yield to the sad
+necessity of being paid for his valuable time, because he was poor, and
+forced to live by his intellect, he was a free man, and had the right
+to love whom he chose. He loves me, and I have accepted his love as the
+most precious, most beautiful, and most glorious gift of my life. Ah!
+do not look so angry with me, father; I cannot say otherwise. I cannot
+crush or deny the inmost life of my life.--Oh, mother, forgive me that
+I cannot change it! You know that otherwise I have been a most obedient
+daughter to you in all things, although you have never taught me the
+happiness of possessing a loving mother; though neither of you could
+ever forgive your only child for not being a son, who could inherit your
+name, and win a brilliant position, yet I have always loved you tenderly
+and truly, and never complained that the unwelcome daughter received
+neither love nor tenderness, only indifference and coldness from her
+parents.”
+
+“Beautiful, very beautiful!” replied the mother, contemptuously.
+“Now you wish to blame us that you are a heartless and thankless
+daughter.--We have not understood her heart, and it is our fault that
+her love has flown somewhere else.
+
+“This is the language of romance. I have, indeed, read it in the
+romances of Herr Moritz, and my daughter has only repeated what she
+learned as a docile pupil from her schoolmaster. Very fine, to pay Herr
+Moritz to form our daughter into the heroine of a romance! She ought to
+have learned the languages, but has learned only the language of
+romances.”
+
+“You are very severe and very cruel, mother,” said Marie, sadly. “I
+would not complain, only excuse myself, and implore pity and indulgence,
+and defend myself from the reproach of having been a cold, unloving
+daughter. Oh! God knows how I have longed for your love; that I would
+willingly prove that I would joyfully do every thing to embellish your
+life and make you happy. It gave me such pleasure to earn something
+for you with my dear flowers and lessons, and afford you a little
+gratification!”
+
+“Ah! now, she will reproach us with having toiled for us and sacrificed
+herself. Husband, thank yourself for the victim who worked for you, who
+gave her youth for us that she might strew our life with roses.”
+
+“I have had enough of this talking and whining,” cried the general,
+furiously beating the table with his fist. “My daughter shall not be a
+heroine of romance, but an obedient child, who submits to the will of
+her parents. You shall marry the man that we have chosen for you; the
+king has given his consent, and it shall take place. I command you! That
+is sufficient! I will hear no more about it; the thing is done with.
+Herr Ebenstreit is coming this afternoon to make you a proposal of
+marriage with our consent, and you must, accept him. I command you to do
+it!”
+
+“I cannot obey you! Oh, do not force me to rebel against God’s holy
+laws! Have pity upon me! I have obeyed you until now, and yielded to
+your wishes, although I thought it would break my heart sometimes. You
+have forbidden Moritz the house, and turned him out of doors like a
+servant, with scorn and contempt, and he has silently borne it on my
+account. You have forbidden me to write or receive letters from him,
+or ever to meet him. My mother would curse me if I disobeyed her, and
+I submitted. I have given up every thing, sacrificed every wish, and
+renounced my love. But you cannot expect more from me, or dare ask it.
+I can forego happiness, but you cannot ask me to consent to be buried
+alive!”
+
+“And what if we should wish it?” asked her mother. “If we should demand
+our daughter to give up a romantic, foolish love, to become the wife of
+a young man who loves her, and who loves us, and who is rich enough to
+assure us a comfortable old age, free from care?”
+
+“Marie,” cried the general, in a begging and almost imploring tone,
+“Marie, prove to us now that you are really a good and grateful
+child--we have had so much care and want in our life, so many sorrowful
+days! It lies in your hands to make our declining days joyous and
+bright, and free us from want. We have often grumbled against God, that
+He did not give us a son; now make us to rejoice that He has given us
+a daughter, who will bring us a son and inherit our name through her
+children, and who will give us what we have never known--prosperity and
+riches. I beg you, my dear, good child, grant your parents the few last
+years of their life freedom from care!”
+
+“And I, Marie,” said her mother, in a softened and tender tone, which
+Marie had never heard from her--“I beg you also, be a good daughter,
+pity your mother! I have always led a joyless, unhappy life. I lived
+unmarried, a native-born countess, with proud relations, who made me
+feel bitterly my dependence; when married my existence was only trouble,
+privations, care, and sorrow. I beg you, Marie, teach me to know
+happiness, for which I have so longed in vain; give me independence and
+prosperity, which I have always desired, and never known. I pray, Marie,
+make us happy in bringing us a rich, genteel, and good son-in-law, Herr
+Ebenstreit.”
+
+Marie, who met the scorn and threats of her mother with firmness and a
+proud demeanor, trembled as she heard these severe and merciless lips,
+always so cold and harsh, now begging and imploring. At first she was
+quite frightened, and then terrified, and covered her face with her
+hands, her head sinking upon her breast as her mother spoke.
+
+“Speak, my daughter,” cried the general, as his wife was silent. “Speak,
+my dear Marie. Say the word, and we shall be all happy, and there will
+be no happier family found in Berlin, or the world even. Say that you
+will marry Ebenstreit, and we will love and bless you so long as we
+live. Do say yes, dear Marie!”
+
+Her hands fell from her face, and stretching them out toward her
+parents, she looked at them in despair.
+
+There was a fearful pause. “I cannot, it is impossible!” she shrieked.
+“I cannot marry this man, for I do not love him. I love another, whom I
+can never forget, whom I shall love forever. I love--”
+
+“Herr Conrector Moritz!” announced Trude, hastily bursting open the
+door, and looking in with a triumphant smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+HATE AND LOVE
+
+
+“Herr Conrector Moritz wishes to pay his respects,” called out Trude
+again.
+
+“We do not wish to receive him,” cried Frau von Werrig.
+
+“He dare not presume to enter!” shrieked the general.
+
+Marie cried, “Moritz! Oh! my beloved Moritz,” rushing with outstretched
+arms toward her lover, who just appeared at the door. “God has sent you
+to sustain me in this fearful hour.”
+
+Old Trude peeped through the half-closed door, well satisfied to see her
+dear young lady folded in Moritz’s arms, and her head leaning upon his
+shoulder. “Yes,” she murmured, closing softly the door, “Marie is right,
+God himself sent her lover in this hour, and I would not let her wicked,
+hard-hearted parents send him away.”
+
+Quick as thought she turned the key, fastening the door, and betook
+herself to the farthest room, carefully closing every door between them.
+“Now we will see for once whether they will show him the door, and pitch
+him out. No, they will be obliged to listen to him. Old Trude wishes it,
+for it will make her dear Marie happy. It is all the same to me if the
+old German tries to scratch my eyes out for it; I will take good care to
+keep out of his way. I must go and listen once.”
+
+She put her ear to the keyhole, and then her eye, to see how the
+quarrellers looked.
+
+At first the general and his wife were quite alarmed, and almost
+speechless as they witnessed the joyful meeting of the lovers. The
+father sprang up suddenly, with clinched fist, but instead of bitter
+invectives only a fearful shriek of pain was heard, as he sank groaning
+and whimpering into his armchair. The gout had again seized its victim.
+Anger had excited the general’s blood, and had also brought on the pain
+in his leg again. His wife took no notice of his cries and groans, for
+it was quite as agreeable to her to be the only speaker, and have her
+moaning husband a kind of assenting chorus. “Leave each other!” she
+commanded, as she approached the lovers, flourishing her long shrivelled
+arms about. “Leave each other, and leave my house!”
+
+Laying her hand on Marie’s arm, which was thrown around her lover’s
+neck, she endeavored to tear her away, and draw her daughter toward
+herself. But Marie clung only the more firmly, and Moritz pressed her
+more fervently to his heart. They heeded not and heard not the outburst
+of anger which the mother gave way to. They read in each other’s eyes
+the bliss, the joy of meeting again, and the assurance of constant,
+imperishable love.
+
+“You are pale and thin, my beloved!”
+
+“Sorrow for you is consuming me, Marie, but, thank Heaven, you are
+unchanged, and beautiful as ever!”
+
+“Hope and love have consoled and strengthened me, Philip.”
+
+“Enough! I forbid you to speak another word to each other,” and with the
+power which rage lends, the mother tore Marie away. “Herr Moritz,
+will you tell me by what right you force yourself into our house, and
+surprise us like a street-thief in our peaceful dwelling? But no! you
+need not tell me, I will not listen to you. Those who permit themselves
+to enter our room unasked and unwelcomed--I will have nothing to say to
+them. Leave! there is the door! Out with you, off the threshold!”
+
+With calm demeanor, Moritz now approached Fran von Werrig, demanding
+her pardon, saying: “You see, madame, that I am not so unwelcome here,
+therefore you will be obliged to let me remain.”
+
+“Yes, that she will,” sneered Trude, outside the door. “It will be
+difficult for her to send him off so long as I am unwilling.”
+
+“No, I will not permit it. We have nothing to do with each other. Out of
+my sight!--Away!”
+
+“Away!” cried the general. “Oh, the gout, the maddening pains! I cannot
+throw the bold fellow out of the house! I must lie here, and writhe like
+a worm! I cannot be master of my house. Oh, oh! what pain!”
+
+“Stay, Philip,” whispered Marie, as she again leaned toward Moritz.
+“They wish to sell me and force me to a hated marriage. Do not yield!
+save me!”
+
+“You are mine, Marie; you have sworn to me eternal constancy, and no one
+can compel you to marry if you do not wish to.”
+
+“We are her parents; we can, and we will compel her,” triumphantly cried
+Frau von Werrig. “The king has given his consent, and if it is necessary
+we will drag her to the altar by force!”
+
+“Do it, mother, and I will say no before all the world.”
+
+“We will take care that no one hears you but the priest, and he will not
+listen, as he knows that the king has commanded you to say yes!”
+
+“But God will hear her, Frau von Werrig, and He will take vengeance on
+the cruel, heartless mother.”
+
+“I will await this vengeance,” she sneered. “It does not concern you,
+and you need not trouble yourself about it. Leave the house!”
+
+“I came here to speak with you, and I will not go away until you have
+listened to me.”
+
+“Then I will leave, for I will not hear you, and I command you to follow
+me, Marie!”
+
+She seized Marie with irresistible force, and drew her toward the side
+door, which was fast. Then hurried toward the entrance, dragging her
+daughter after her, but shook it in vain; that door was fastened also.
+
+“Oh! I could kiss myself,” murmured Trude, as she patted her old,
+wrinkled cheeks. “I was as cunning and wise as Solomon. There, shriek
+for Trude, order her to open it. Trude is not there, and she has no ears
+for you!”
+
+“This is a plot--a shameful plot!” cried Frau von Werrig, stamping her
+feet. “That good-for-nothing creature, Trude, is in it. She has locked
+the doors, and the schoolmaster paid her for it.”
+
+Trude shook her fist at her mistress behind the door. “Wait! that
+good-for-nothing creature will punish you! You shall have something to
+be angry about with me every day.”
+
+“I swear to you that I do not know who locked the doors,” replied
+Moritz, calmly. “But whoever did it, I thank them from the depths of my
+soul, for it forces you to listen to me, and may love give my words the
+power to soften your heart. General and Frau von Werrig, I conjure you
+to have compassion upon us. Is it possible that you are deaf to the cry
+of grief of your own child?”
+
+Suddenly assuming a contemptuous calm, Frau von Werrig sank back upon
+the divan with great dignity. “As I am obliged to listen to you, through
+a shameful deception, let it be so. Try to make ears in my heart, which
+you say is deaf. Let me listen to your wonderful eloquence!”
+
+“Oh, Philip!” said Marie, clasping his arms, “you see it will all be in
+vain.”
+
+“Let me hope to succeed in awakening a spark of loving mercy, as Moses
+caused the fountain to gush from the rock.--A year since you turned me
+insultingly from your door, Frau von Werrig, and you forbade me with
+scorn and contempt to ever cross your threshold. In the rebellious pride
+of my heart I swore never to do it again, never to speak to those who
+had so injured me. The holy, pure love which binds me to this dear girl
+has released me from my oath. We have tried to live separated from each
+other a long year, an inconsolable, unhappy year! We hoped to renounce
+each other, although we could not forget. Marie, as an obedient
+daughter, obeyed your commands, and returned the ring, which I gave her
+in a moment of affection and holy trust. I released her from the oath of
+constancy, and made her free! But it is in vain! During this year I have
+striven with sorrow as a man, helpless in a desert, who writhes in the
+folds of the poisonous serpent. I should have gone mad if a consoling
+word from a great and noble mind had not roused me from my desolation,
+and if love had not shed a ray of light into my benighted soul. I
+listened no longer to sickening pride and humbled sense of honor. Love
+commanded me to come here, and I came to ask you, Marie, in the presence
+of your parents, if you will be my wife; if you will accept my poor,
+insignificant name, and be contented by my side to lead a quiet, modest
+existence. I can only earn sufficient to assure us a peaceful life. I
+have no splendor, no treasures to offer you, but only my love, my heart,
+my life, my whole thought and being. Will you accept it, Marie?”
+
+“I do accept it, Moritz, as the greatest happiness of my life. I desire
+only your love, and I can return only my love to you! Here is my hand,
+Philip, it belongs to you alone! Let us kneel in humility before my
+parents, and implore their blessing.--Oh, my father and mother, have
+pity upon us! See this dear man, to whom my whole heart belongs.
+I desire only to live and toil with him. There are no riches, no
+treasures, to compare with his love!”
+
+“General and Frau von Werrig, grant me the wife of my heart!” cried
+Philip Moritz, deeply moved. “It is true, I am not worthy of her, I have
+no name, no position, to offer her, but I swear to strive to gain it for
+her. I will win by my talents and knowledge a distinguished name, and
+perhaps one day you will concede to my fame that I am a noble man,
+though not a nobleman. Will you separate two hearts which belong to
+each other? Take me for your son-in-law, and I swear to be devoted and
+faithful, to love and honor you for your daughter’s sake. I can say
+no more--words cannot express all that I feel. Love causes me to kneel
+before you, love makes me humble as a child. I implore you to give me
+your daughter in marriage.”
+
+“I also implore you,” cried Marie, sinking down beside Moritz, “give to
+me this man, whom I love and honor, for my husband.”
+
+It was a beautiful and impressive scene--these two young beings pleading
+for happiness; their eyes flashing with the inspiration of feeling,
+conscious that they were one in affection, and ready to combat the whole
+world for each other. But Frau von Werrig was immovable, and the general
+was too much occupied with his gouty, throbbing leg even to cast a look
+upon the beautiful group of youth, love, manly determination, and tender
+resignation.
+
+Outside the door, Trude knelt imploringly, with folded hands, while the
+tears ran down her old cheeks in big drops. “O God, I well know that
+they have no pity; have mercy Thou, and cause my dear Marie to be happy!
+Suffer not that that hard-hearted woman should sell her, and marry
+her to that bad man my Marie despises. I well know that I am a poor
+creature, and not worthy that Thou shouldst listen to me, O Lord! But
+I love that young girl as if she were my own child, and I would give
+my heart’s blood for her. Oh, my God! I implore Thee to let my Marie
+be happy!” Then she continued, as she rose from her knees. “Now, I have
+spoken, and I commit every thing to God, and He will do what is best.
+She has been obliged to listen to him, and if it cannot be otherwise, he
+must go.”
+
+Carefully old Trude unlocked both doors, and then stopped to listen.
+
+Trude was right, there was no mercy in Frau von Werrig’s heart. “Have
+you finished? Have you any thing more to say?” she asked, in her most
+unsympathizing manner.
+
+“Nothing more with our lips, but our hearts still implore you.”
+
+“I do not understand this language, sir, and you have not succeeded in
+giving me hearing, or ears to hear with. In this useless strife I will
+say a last word, which I hope will be for life. You shall never be the
+husband of my daughter! You can never be united.”
+
+Marie and Moritz sprang from their knees, laying their hands in each
+other’s, and looked what words could not have better expressed--“We are
+inseparable, nothing can disunite us but death!”
+
+“I desire you not to interrupt me,” commanded Frau von Werrig; “I have
+listened to you, and now you shall listen to me. I promise you to speak
+with more brevity than you have. I will not trouble you with useless
+phrases and tedious lamentations. I will speak to the point. Marie is
+the daughter of General Werrig von Leuthen, whose name would become
+extinct if the grace and favor of the king had not prevented it, by
+permitting the husband whom we have chosen for our daughter to take our
+name, and therewith become our son. You may think, in your arrogance of
+commoner, and the pride you take in having won the love of the daughter
+of General von Leuthen, that you could be this husband and son-in-law.
+But two things fail you: first, the necessary fortune; and, secondly,
+the king’s consent, and that of her father. If you were rich, it might
+be possible that we should be touched by the tender amorousness of our
+daughter, and conquer our aversion to you for her sake. You are of low
+birth, and take a subordinate position in society. It would be extremely
+laughable for the schoolmaster Moritz to change suddenly into a Herr von
+Werrig Leuthen. Our son-in-law must be a rich man, in order to be able
+to give his new title consideration; and, fortunately, the wooer of
+my daughter’s hand possesses this qualification, and therefore we have
+given our consent. The king has approved our choice, and permits the
+rich banker Ludwig Ebenstreit to become our son-in-law, and take our
+name. The king has in this communication, which lies upon the table, and
+which Marie has heard read, given his assurance to ennoble Ebenstreit
+upon two conditions: first, that the banker should give up his business,
+and live upon his income; and, secondly, that the marriage should not
+take place until the papers of nobility are made out and published, so
+that the daughter of General von Werrig should not make a misalliance.
+You know all now, and you will at last understand that there is but one
+thing for you to do--conquer your foolish presumption, and beg to be
+excused for your unheard-of boldness in forcing yourself into our
+house, and then withdraw quickly. If my ear does not deceive me, your
+accomplice has opened the doors. I think I heard rightly, if my heart
+has no ears, my head possesses better. We have finished. I would again
+enjoin upon you the duty of begging for pardon, and then I close this
+unrefreshing scene with the same words with which it opened--there is
+the door--go out!”
+
+“Yes, there is the door--go out of it! I want to be quiet--go! My
+daughter is the betrothed of the rich banker Herr Ebenstreit; she will
+be his wife as soon as the papers are made out and published.--Go!”
+ cried the general.
+
+The young couple still stood there, hand in hand, looking at the
+general, until now their eyes met, beaming with tenderest affection for
+each other. “Is it true, Marie? Speak, my beloved, is it true, will you
+be the wife of this rich man whom your parents have chosen for you?”
+
+“No, Philip,” she calmly and firmly replied. “No, I will not, for I do
+not love him, I love only you; and here, in the presence of God and
+my parents, I swear to you that I will be constant to death! They can
+prevent my becoming your wife, but they cannot force me to wed another.
+I swear, then, that if I cannot be yours, I will never marry!”
+
+“I receive your oath, and God has heard it also!” said Moritz, solemnly.
+
+“I have also heard it, and I tell you,” said Frau von Werrig, “that this
+romantic heroine will become a perjurer, for I will find means to make
+her break her silly oath.”
+
+“We will, perhaps, find means to delay the marriage,” said Moritz
+proudly, “or, much more, prevent the marriage ceremony.”
+
+“I am very curious to know the means,” said Frau von Werrig. “From this
+hour Marie is the betrothed of Herr Ebenstreit, and the wedding will
+take place so soon--”
+
+“So soon as the title of nobility is published. That is it, is the
+clause to be filled; and therefore I tell you, beloved, wait and hope!
+This woman is without pity and without mercy; but God is in heaven, and
+Frederick the Great on the earth. Wait and hope. Be firm in hope,
+and constant in love. Do not lose courage, and let them force you to
+compliance by threats and anger. I have only you to confide in and to
+love in the world, and you are my hope, my goal, and the happiness of my
+life. If you forsake me, I lose my good angel, and am a lost, miserable
+man, whom it would be better to hurl into the deepest abyss than let him
+suffer the torments of hated existence. The knowledge of your love gives
+me strength and courage; it will inspire me to fight like a hero, to
+win the dear, beloved wife, to whom I would yield my life in order to
+receive it anew from her purified and sanctified. The knowledge that I
+had lost you, would ruin me.”
+
+Laying both hands upon his shoulder, Marie looked at him with eyes
+beaming with affection, renewing her vow that she would never love or
+marry another. “We will be courageous in hope, and brave in constancy.
+Listen to me, my beloved; listen, my mother--I betrothed myself to this
+dear man! You can prevent my becoming his wife now, but in four years I
+am of age, and then I shall be my own mistress. Then, my dear Philip, I
+will be your wife. Let us wait and hope!”
+
+“Yes, Marie, we will wait and hope.--Farewell! Do not forget that there
+is a great God in heaven, and a great king upon earth.--Farewell!”
+
+He pressed the hand clasped in his own passionately to his tips,
+and felt from the pressure of her delicate fingers a renewed vow of
+constancy. Buoyed with this hope in the sad hour of parting, they were
+happy and joyful. Marie accompanied him to the door--still hand in hand.
+
+“Presume not to go a step farther,” commanded her mother, and Marie,
+obedient to her wishes, remained near the door, bowed to Moritz, and
+never ceased to regard him, with love beaming in her eyes, until the
+door closed. Outside stood old Trude, to tell him that she would be
+at the baker’s at seven o’clock every morning, and wait for his
+commissions, “and may be I shall have something to bring you,” she said.
+“So do come!”
+
+“I will, my good Trude; you are the only person who is friendly to us.
+Watch over my angel, console her with your affection, and when they are
+too hard upon her, come to me.”
+
+“I surely will, but listen--they are already quarrelling with my good
+angel. I will go in, to serve as a lightning-rod for dear Marie. I often
+do it, and it pleases me when the lightning strikes, and dashes my hard
+old head to the ground, but does not hurt me at all--Farewell, Herr
+Moritz, the lightning-rod must go in.”
+
+Trude entered suddenly and noiselessly the sitting-room, and interrupted
+the angry reproaches which Frau von Werrig hurled against Marie in a
+furious stream of words. The countess’s rage turned against Trude, who
+stared as if to challenge her. “What do you want? How dare you enter
+uncalled?”
+
+“I thought you were calling deaf old Trude, or why did you scream so?”
+ replied Trude, tartly.
+
+“Perhaps it was the general. Ah! there lies the poor, dear old man,
+groaning and crying, and nobody has any pity for him.”
+
+“Ah! Trude, it is good luck that you are here,” whined the general. “No
+one troubles himself about me. Quick, bring warm covering for my leg,
+the pain is fearful!”
+
+“Poor, dear father, I will take care of you, I will nurse you,” said
+Marie, hastening to him. Her mother pushed her back violently. “Not a
+step farther; you have no right to go near him, you are his murderess.
+On your head will fall the guilt, if these dreadful scenes should cause
+his death.”
+
+“No, no, the general will not die quite yet,” said Trude busying herself
+about his arm-chair. “But, Fraulein, you have got something else to do
+than stay here. They have already sent for the flowers twice, and the
+French lady is waiting up-stairs to parlez-vous.”
+
+Marie looked her friendly thanks, and quietly and quickly left the room.
+
+“Now, bold woman, I have a last word to say to you. Who locked the door
+when that creature came?” “I, madame,” answered Trude, who was just
+bringing a great cushion from the back-room to cover the general’s feet.
+
+“You acknowledge that you locked the door intentionally?”
+
+“Now, my dear, good Frau von Werrig, one does not lock a door by
+mistake. I did not want Herr Moritz to run away with fright, before you
+had given him your mind, and set his head straight. He would certainly
+have escaped, and only heard the half of your beautiful talk, for he had
+no idea what a miserable fellow he is. So I locked both doors, and he
+was obliged to listen to you, and has gone away contrite and repentant.
+There, there, my poor, dear general, is your foot high enough? Shall I
+not bring the foot-warmer?”
+
+“You shall not bring any thing, nor do any thing more. You are a
+hypocrite, who connives with Moritz. Leave my house this very hour! You
+are dismissed my service. Go pack up your things and be off!” cried Frau
+von Werrig.
+
+“Oh, do not go, Trude, for mercy’s sake, for then I have no one to help
+me,” cried the general.
+
+“I cannot do otherwise, she has given me my dismissal.” Trude approached
+Frau von Werrig respectfully, saying, “So I must pack up and go away at
+once?”
+
+“Immediately, you deceitful creature!”
+
+“Immediately! but Frau von Werrig will be so good as to give me my
+wages.”
+
+“Yes,” she answered in a slower and more subdued voice. “That shall be
+done presently.”
+
+“It will not be so very difficult to reckon them, I have been here
+twenty years; just as many years as Marie is old, for I came as child’s
+nurse, and have helped her learn to talk and walk, and played mother
+to the dear child a bit. Then I obtained my wages, for they were good
+times; but the pension-time came, and we had no cook or servant but me.
+‘The rats run away if the ship springs a leak,’ but the old mole Trude
+stayed. Mankind is in the world to work, I said, and why should not I be
+the cook and waiting-maid too, that my little Marie should not want any
+thing? So I became maid-of-all-work and have stayed here ever since.
+Then, you told me you would double my wages, and give me twenty thalers
+a year, and four thalers at Christmas. Is it not so, Frau von Werrig?”
+
+“I believe that was the agreement.”
+
+“I am quite certain about it,” cried the general, who began to
+understand the drift of Trude. “Yes, Trude was to have twenty thalers
+a year, and we are owing her many years’ wages. You know, wife, I have
+always kept an account-book for the debts, and only a few days ago--Oh!
+oh! the pain! Trude, help me cover up the foot warmer!--we reckoned it
+up a few days ago, and we owe Trude one hundred and thirty thalers.”
+
+“One hundred and thirty thalers,” repeated Trude, clapping her hands,
+astonished. “Is it true? oh, that is splendid. I shall be rich, and get
+a husband yet. I pray you give it to me, Frau von Werrig, right away.”
+
+“Not so quickly,” said she, proudly. “We will reckon together how much
+you have saved--because--”
+
+“Oh!” interrupted Trude, “how good you are to make me keep so much; you
+are my savings bank, where I can deposit my money.”
+
+“Because,” she continued, with emphasis, without noticing the
+interruption, “our future son-in-law will pay your wages, the rich
+banker, Herr Ebenstreit. Yes, the wealthy lover of our daughter. At the
+moment I have not so much cash in the house.”
+
+“Your grace will allow me to stay until Herr Ebenstreit is married, and,
+in your name, pays me my wages?”
+
+“Yes, Trude, I will allow you to stay,” she replied, very graciously.
+“You will be cunning, Trude, if you try to persuade Marie to accept the
+rich suitor, for when she does I will give you two hundred thalers.”
+
+“I will do all I can to get it. Can I remain here until Marie is
+married?”
+
+“Yes, you have my permission for that.”
+
+“I thank you, Frau von Werrig. Now, general, I will bring you some warm
+coverings right away.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE.
+
+
+“Now tell me, Wolf,” asked Duke Charles Augustus, stretching himself
+comfortably on the sofa, puffing clouds of smoke from his pipe--“are you
+not weary of dawdling about in this infamously superb pile of stones,
+called Berlin? Shall we any longer elegantly scrape to the right and to
+the left, with abominable sweet speeches and mere flattering
+phraseology, in this monster of dust and stone, of sand and sun, parades
+and gaiters? Have you not enough of blustering generals, of affected
+women? and of running about the streets like one possessed to see here a
+miserable church, or there a magnificent palace? Are you not weary of
+crawling about as one of the many, while at home you stride about as the
+only one of the many? And weary also of seeing your friend and pupil
+Carl August put off with fair promises and hollow speeches like an
+insignificant, miserable mortal, without being able to answer with
+thundering invectives. Ah! breath fails me. I feel as if I could load a
+pistol with myself, and with a loud report shoot over to dear Weimar.
+Wolf, do talk, I beg you, I am tired out; answer me.”
+
+“I reply, I shoot, my dear Carl,” cried Goethe, laughing. “I was out
+of breath myself from that long speech. Was it original with my dear
+prince, or did he memorize it from Klinger’s great ‘Sturm-und-Drang’
+tragedy? It reminded me of it.”
+
+“Do you mean to accuse me of plagiarism, wicked fellow? I grant that you
+are right, my cunning Wolf, it was a lapsus. I did think of Klinger, and
+I sympathized with his youthful hero Wild, who declared that, among the
+sweetest pleasures, he would like to be stretched over a drum, or exist
+in a pistol-barrel, the hand ready to blow him into the air.”
+
+Goethe shoved aside the breakfast-table, straightened his delicate form,
+with his noble head proudly erect, and one foot in advance, extended his
+right arm, giving one loud hurrah! “Now, for once, a tumult and noise,
+that thought may turn about like a weathercock. This savage noise has
+already wrought its own benefit. I begin to feel a little better. Rage
+and expand, mad heart, quicken yourself in hurly-burly-burly-burly!”
+ [Footnote: From Klinger’s tragedy “Sturm und Drang.”]
+
+“Bravo! bravo!” laughed the duke. “Is that Klinger, or who is it that
+refreshes himself in hurly-burly?”
+
+“It is I who am every thing,” replied Goethe, striding and swaggering up
+and down. “I was an assistant, in order to be something--lived upon the
+Alps, tended the goats, lay under the vault of heaven day and night,
+refreshed by the cool pastures, and burned with the inward fire. No
+peace, no rest anywhere. See, I swell with power and health! I cannot
+waste myself away. I would take part in the campaign here; then can my
+soul expand, and if they do me the service to shoot me down, well and
+good!” [Footnote: From Klinger’s tragedy “Sturm und Drang.”]
+
+“Bravo! Wild, bravo!” cried the duke. “Hei! that thundered and rolled,
+and struck fire! It does me good to hear such vigorous words from an
+able rare genius in the midst of this miserable, starched elegance. The
+powerful Germans are healthy fellows. Something of the Promethean fire
+blazes forth in them. They were forced to come, those jolly, uproarious
+boys, after the affected cue period; they were the full, luxurious
+plants, and my Wolfgang, the favorite of my heart, my poet and teacher,
+is the divine blossom of this plant. Let them prevail, these ‘Sturmer
+und Dranger,’ for they are the fathers and brothers of my Wolfgang.
+Do me the sole pleasure not to refine yourself too much, but let this
+divine fire burst forth in volcanic flames, and leave the thundering
+crater uncovered. Sometimes when I see you so simpering, so modest and
+ceremonious, I ask myself, with anxiety, if it is the same Wolfgang
+Goethe, who used to drink ‘Smollis’ with me at merry bacchanals out of
+death-skulls?--the same with whom I used to practise whip-cracking upon
+the market-place hours long, to the terror of the good citizens?--the
+same who used to dance so nimbly the two-steps, and was inexhaustible
+in mad pranks. Now tell me, Herr Wolfgang, are you yourself, or are you
+another?”
+
+“I am myself, and not myself,” answered Goethe, smiling. “There still
+remains a good portion of folly in me, and it must sometimes thunder
+and flash, but I hope the atmosphere of my soul will become clearer,
+and over the crater a more lovely garden will spread out, in which
+beautiful, fragrant flowers will bloom, useful and profitable for my
+friends and myself. Sometimes I long for this as for the promised land;
+then again it foams and thunders in me like fermenting must, which,
+defying all covers and hoops, would froth up to heaven in an immense
+source of mad excitement!”
+
+“Let it froth and foam, and spring the covers, and burst the old casks,”
+ cried the duke; “I delight in it, and every infernal noise you make, the
+prouder I am to recognize that from this foaming must will clear itself
+a marvellous wine, a delicious beverage for gods and men, with which the
+world will yet refresh itself, when we are long gone to the kingdom of
+shades--to the something or nothing. You know, Wolf, I love you, and I
+am proud that I have you! It is true that I possess only a little
+duchy, but it is large enough to lead an agreeable and comfortable
+existence--large enough for a little earthly duke, and the great king of
+intellects, Johann Wolfgang Goethe. Let us return to our dear home,
+for I acknowledge to you I sigh for Weimar. I long for the dear little
+place, where every one knows me and greets me, and even for my dogs and
+horses.”
+
+“And I,” said Goethe, “I really mourn for my Tusculum, which I owe to
+the generous, kind duke; for the balcony of my little cottage, where,
+canopied by the blue, starry vault of heaven, I dream away the lonely
+May nights.”
+
+“Is there nothing else you sigh for but the summer-house at Weimar?”
+
+“No!” cried Goethe, and an indescribable expression of rapture and
+delight was manifest in his whole manner.
+
+“No, why should I deny it, how could I? It would be treason to the
+Highest and most Glorious. No, I long for my muse, my mistress, my--”
+
+“Beloved!” interrupted the duke. “I pray you not to be so prudish,
+so reserved. Have the courage to snap your fingers at this infamously
+deceitful moral code, and proud and distinguished as you are, elevate
+yourself above what these miserable earthworms call morality. For the
+eagle there is a different law than for the pigeon. If the eagle soars
+aloft through the ether to his eyry, bearing a lamb in his powerful
+claws, has he not a right to it--the right of superiority and power by
+God’s grace? Has he not as much right to the lamb as the pigeon to the
+pea which she finds in the dust? If the pigeon by chance sees the eagle
+with his lamb, she cries, ‘Zeter! mordio!’ with the pea in her own bill,
+as if she were in a position to judge the eagle.”
+
+“A beautiful picture,” cried Goethe, joyfully--“a picture that would
+inspire me to indite a poem.”
+
+“Write one, and call it for a souvenir ‘The Eagle and the Dove.’ Make it
+a reality, my eagle youth, bear off the white lamb to your eyry, and let
+the world, with its affected morality, say what it likes. How can
+you bear to see the one you love at the side of another man? Tell me,
+confess to me, is not the beautiful Charlotte von Stein your beloved?”
+
+“Not in the sense you mean, duke, not in the vulgar sense of the word. I
+love her, I adore her, with a pure and holy sentiment. I would not that
+Charlotte should have cause to blush before her children on my account.
+She would be desecrated to me if I, in my inmost soul, could imagine the
+blush of shame upon her cheek, or that her eye could brighten at other
+than great, beautiful, and noble acts. I adore her, and to me she is the
+ideal of the purest and sweetest womanhood. I rejoice that she is as she
+is, like clear mountain crystal--transparent and so brightly pure, that
+one could mirror himself therein. She stands above all other women,
+and to her belong all my thoughts, and would, even if I were wedded to
+another. To me she is the most beautiful of the beautiful, the purest of
+the pure, the most graceful of the graceful, and all my thoughts are in
+perfect harmony with hers. Now, duke, if it is agreeable to you, knowing
+my feelings, to call Charlotte von Stein my beloved, she is so in the
+most elevated sense of the word.”
+
+“Ah! you poets, you poets,” sighed the duke, smiling.
+
+“A streak of madness in you all, though I will grant that it is divine.”
+
+“Say rather that Whit-Sunday comes to us every day, and the divine
+Spirit descends daily upon us poets, and causes us to speak in unknown
+tongues.”
+
+“I will say that you are the god Apollo descended from heaven, and with
+gods one may not dare to dispute. They act differently in their sphere
+than we mortals upon earth. I will be contented if our ways cross from
+time to time, and we can once in a while walk on together a good piece
+the way of life in friendship and harmony. If it would please my Wolf,
+I propose to turn toward beloved Weimar, the dear place, half village,
+half city. For my part I am finished here, my business with General von
+Mollendorf is accomplished. As I told you previously, I have had made
+known to the king my refusal to allow recruiting in my duchy. I could
+not consent for the present. In short, I have spoken as my secretary
+Wolfgang Goethe has recorded.[Footnote: This memorial upon recruiting is
+found. “Correspondence of the Grand Duke Carl August and Goethe,” part,
+i., p. 4.] General Mollendorf has waived his demand for the present--and
+to-day we have had the concluding conference, and if it is agreeable to
+my secretary, we might set off this afternoon and pass a day at Dessau,
+and then on to Weimar.”
+
+“Oh, gladly will I do it; it seems as if a star from heaven had twinkled
+to me to follow it, for at Weimar is centred all my happiness! I prefer
+a lowly cabin there to all the splendor and palaces of a city.”
+
+“Then you agree with me, that this magnificently vile Berlin does not
+enchain you in her magic net?”
+
+“No, she holds me not, though it has been pleasant to take a peep into
+it (like a child into a curiosity-box). I have seen ‘Old Fritz.’ His
+character, his gold, and his silver, his marbles, his apes and parrots,
+and even his town curtains please me. It is pleasant to be at the seat
+of war at the very moment that it threatens to break forth. It has
+gratified me to witness the splendor of the royal city, the life, order,
+and abundance, that would be nothing if thousands of men were not ready
+to be sacrificed; the medley of men, carriages, horses, artillery, and
+all the arrangements. All are mere pins in the great clock-work, only
+puppets whose motion is received from the great cylinder, Fredericus
+Rex, who indicates to each one the melody they must play, according to
+one of the thousand pins in the rotary beam.”[Footnote: Goethe’s own
+words.--See Goethe’s “Correspondence with Frau von Stein,” part i., p.
+168. Riemer, “Communications about Goethe,” part ii., p. 60.]
+
+“You are right to compare the great man to the chief cylinder in the
+machine of state,” nodded the duke “He rules and sets all in motion,
+and cares not whether the rabble are suited or not. It has enraged me
+sometimes to hear the fellows curse him, and yet I acted as if I heard
+them not. Let us return to Weimar--mankind seems better there, Wolf.”
+
+“At any rate, more regardful of us than they are here, duke. The greater
+the world the uglier the farce; no obscenities and fooleries of the
+buffoon are more disgusting than the characters of the great, mediocre
+and insignificant, all mingled together. I prayed this morning for
+courage to hold out to the end, and to hasten the consummation. I am
+grateful for the benefit of the journey--but I pray the gods not to
+conduct themselves toward us as their image-man, for I should swear
+to them eternal hatred.”[Footnote: Goethe’s own words.--See Goethe’s
+“Correspondence with Frau von Stein,” part i., p. 169.]
+
+“Then you are ready to depart, Wolf?”
+
+“Almost, dear Carl, or, if you will it, quite ready. A few visits I
+would make, that the people shall not be too severe upon me and cry out
+against my pride and arrogance.”
+
+“Because they themselves are proud and supercilious, they are bold
+enough to suppose Wolfgang Goethe is like them. I hope you will not
+visit the very learned Herr Nicolai, the insipid prosaist, the puffed-up
+rationalist, who believes that his knowledge permits him to penetrate
+every thing, and who is a veritable ass.”
+
+“No, I am not going to Nicolai, Rammler, or Engel, or, as they should be
+named, the wise authors of Berlin. I shall visit the artist Chodowiecki,
+good Karschin, occasional poetess, and the philosopher Mendelssohn.
+Then, if it pleases you, we will set out this afternoon, shaking the
+sand of Berlin from our feet.”
+
+“I shall prepare whilst you make your visits. Will you take my carriage?
+You know there is one from the royal stables always at my service, which
+stands at the door.”
+
+“Beware! they would shriek if I should drive to their doors in a royal
+carriage. They would accuse me of throwing aside the poet, and being
+only secretary of legation. I will go on foot; it amuses me to push my
+way through the crowd, and listen to the Berlin jargon.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. GOETHE’S VISITS.
+
+
+Taking leave of his ducal friend, Goethe betook himself the street, to
+commence his visits. Going first to Chodowiecki, the renowned delineator
+and engraver, whose fame had already spread throughout Germany. When
+Goethe entered, the artist was busy in his atelier, working upon the
+figures of the characters in the “Mimic,” the latest work of Professor
+Engel. “Master,” said he, smilingly, extending him his hand, “I have
+come to thank you for many beautiful, happy hours which I owe to you.
+You paint with the chisel and poetize with the brush. An artist by God’s
+grace.”
+
+“If the poet Goethe says that, there must be something in it,” replied
+Chodowiecki, with a radiant face. “I have to thank you for the most
+beautiful and best hours of my life, and I am proud and delighted to
+have been able in the least to return the pleasure. The only blissful
+tears among many bitter ones that I have wept, were shed over the
+‘Sorrows of Werther.’ ‘Gotz von Berlichingen’ so inspired me that he
+appeared to me in my dreams, and left me no peace until I rose in the
+night to draw Gotz, as he sat talking with brother Martin on the bench
+in the forest. Wait, I will show you the drawing; you must see it.”
+
+Goethe examined it attentively, and expressed his pleasure at the
+correctness and dramatical conception of the design, and did not remark,
+or perhaps would not, that the artist was busily occupied with crayon
+and paper. “How wonderfully you have reproduced my ‘German Knight,’”
+ cried Goethe, after a long observation of it. “The middle ages entire,
+proud and full of strength, are mirrored in this figure, and if I had
+not written ‘Gotz von Berlichingen,’ I would have been inspired to it,
+perhaps, from this drawing. Oh! you artists are to be envied. We need
+many thousand words to express what a few lines represent, and a stroke
+suffices to change a smiling face into a weeping one. How feeble is
+language, and how mighty the pencil! I wish I had the talent to be a
+painter!”
+
+“And I,” cried Chodowiecki, “would throw all my pencils, brushes, and
+chisels to the devil, or sell him my soul, if I could cope with the
+genius and intellect of the poet, Wolfgang Goethe. What a man! What a
+profile the gods have given him! There! look--have you ever seen a man
+with such a face?” He handed Goethe the drawing, which proved to be a
+speaking profile-portrait of himself, dashed off with a few strokes full
+of genius.
+
+Goethe looked at it with the air of a critic. “It is true,” said he,
+perfectly serious, “there are not many such profiles, but I am not of
+your opinion that the gods fashioned it. Those sharp features look as
+if the joiner had cut them out of oak, and they lead me to infer a
+very disagreeable character. I naturally do not know who the picture
+represents, but I must tell you, master, that this man could never
+please me, although I could swear it is a speaking likeness. This sharp,
+bowed nose has something impudent, self-sufficient in it. The brow is
+indeed high, which betokens thought, but the retreating lines prove
+that the thoughts only commence, and then lose themselves in a maze. The
+mouth, with its pouting lips, has an insupportable expression of stupid
+good-nature and sentimentality; and the well-defined, protruding chin
+might belong to the robber-captain Cartouche. The great wide-open eyes,
+with their affected passionate glances, prove what a puffed-up dandy the
+man must be, who perhaps imagines all the women in love with his face.
+No, no, I am still of the opinion that the original could never please
+me, and if the physiognomist Lavater should see it, he would say: ‘That
+is the portrait of a puffed-up, quaint, powerful genius, who imagines
+himself something important, and who is nothing! The likeness of a
+bombastic fellow, with an empty head behind the pretentious brow, and
+meaningless phrases on the thick lips.’”
+
+“If Lavater says so, he is a fool and an ass,” cried Chodowiecki,
+furiously, “and he can hide himself in the remotest corner of the
+earth. Lichtenberg of Gottingen is quite right when he says that this
+empty-headed Lavater has made himself ridiculous throughout Germany with
+his wonderful physiognomy of dogs’ tails and his profiles of unknown
+pigtails. If Lavater is really so narrow-minded as not to be able to
+distinguish a crow from an eagle, it is his own affair; but he shall
+never presume to look at this portrait, and you, too, are not worthy,
+you scorner, that I should get angry with you. The likeness is so
+beautiful that Jupiter himself would be satisfied to have it imputed to
+him. It is so like, that you need not pretend you do not know that it
+represents Wolfgang Goethe. As you insult it, and regard it with scorn
+and contempt, I will destroy it.”
+
+“For mercy’s sake do not tear it,” cried Goethe, springing toward
+Chodowiecki, and holding him fast with a firm grasp. “My dear good man,
+do not tear it; it would be like splitting my own head.”
+
+“Ah, ah!” shouted Chodowiecki, “you acknowledge the likeness?”
+
+“I do acknowledge it, with joy.”
+
+“And will you admit that it is the head of a noble, talented poet, a
+favorite of the Muses? Say yes, or I will tear it, and you will have
+terrible pains in your head your life long!”
+
+“Yes, yes! all that you wish. I am capable of saying the most flattering
+things of myself to save this beautiful design. Give it to me, you
+curious fellow!”
+
+“No,” said Chodowiecki, earnestly, “I will not give it to you. Such a
+portrait is not made to be put in a dusty portfolio, or framed for the
+boudoir of your lady-love. All Germany, all the world should enjoy it,
+and centuries later the German women will still see Wolfgang Goethe as
+he looked in his twenty-ninth year, and hang an engraving on the wall in
+their parlor, and sighing and palpitating acknowledge--‘There never was
+but one such godlike youth, and there never will be another. I wish that
+I had known him; I wish he had loved me!’ So will they speak centuries
+later, for I will perpetuate this drawing in a steel engraving of my
+most beautiful artistic work.” [Footnote: This engraving from the
+artist Chodowiecki still exists, and the author of this work possesses
+a beautiful copy, which Ottille von Goethe sent her. It is a bust in
+profile, the most beautiful of his youth.]
+
+“You are a splendid fellow, and I must embrace you, and rejoice to be
+immortalized by you, for this portrait pleases me exceedingly. I might
+well be proud that this head with the rare profile is a counterpart of
+my own. Now we are good friends. Before I say farewell, let me see the
+work at which I just disturbed you upon entering.”
+
+Goethe was about to raise the cloth, when Chodowiecki waved him back.
+“Do not look at it,” said he, quickly; “I dislike to appear as a
+mechanic before you, as I wish that you should honor only the artist. We
+poor toilers are badly off, as the old proverb is ever proving true with
+us, ‘Art goes for bread.’ We must be mechanics the chief part of our
+lives, in order to have a few hours free, in which we are allowed to
+be artists. I have to illustrate the most miserable works with my
+engravings, to buy the time to pursue works of art.”
+
+“That is the interest, friend, which you pay the world for the
+great capital which the gods confided to you. Believe me, the artist
+Chodowiecki would have but a morsel to eat if the mechanic Chodowiecki
+did not serve him a tempting meal, paying the bill. Do not be vexed
+about it; man must have a trade to support him, as art is never
+remunerated. [Footnote: Goethe’s words--See G. H. Lewes’s “Goethe’s Life
+and Writings,” vol. 1., p. 459.] I hope the mechanic will be well paid,
+that the artist may create beautiful and rare works for us. This is my
+farewell visit to-day, friend. If you will hear a welcome from me very
+soon, come to Weimar, and see how one honors the artists there, and how
+well appreciated Chodowiecki is.”
+
+Goethe embraced and kissed the artist, who regarded him, his face
+radiant with joy, and would not be prevented from accompanying him
+to the house door, as if he were a prince or a king. “Now to Madame
+Karschin,” said Goethe to himself, as he hastened through the streets
+in that direction. “The good woman has welcomed me with so many pretty
+verses that I must make my acknowledgments, in spite of my decision to
+keep the Berlin authors at a distance.”
+
+From Wilhelm Street, where Chodowiecki lived, to the tilt-yard, was not
+far, and Goethe soon reached the old, antiquated house where the poetess
+lived. After many questionings and inquiries at the lower stories
+and more splendid apartments of the house, he found the abode of the
+poetess, and climbed up the steep stairs to the slanting attic-room. The
+dim light of a small window permitted Goethe to read upon a gray piece
+of paper, pasted upon the door, ‘Anna Louisa Karsch, German poetess.’
+He knocked modestly at the door at first, then louder, and as the voices
+within never ceased for a moment their animated conversation, he opened
+it, and entered the obscure room.
+
+“I will do it, sir,” said the little woman sitting in the window-niche
+near a table to a young man standing near her. “I will do it, though I
+must tell you album writing is very common. But you must promise me to
+return here, and let me see what Herr Rammler writes, and tell me what
+he says about me. These are my conditions.”
+
+“Frau Karschin, I promise you, upon the word of honor of a German youth,
+who can never lower himself to break his word.”
+
+“Very well! then I will write.”
+
+There was perfect silence. The youth watched the little, dry hand which
+guided the pen, with a devotional mien, and Goethe with eager curiosity,
+who, unobserved, stood like a suppliant at the door of the obscure
+little room, the shabby furniture of which betrayed the narrow
+circumstances of the German poetess. It harmonized with the occupant,
+a little, bony, meagre figure, wearing a tight-fitting blue-flowered
+chintz dress. Upon the gray hair, which, parted in the middle, encircled
+the low forehead, was a cap, which had lost its whiteness and was,
+therefore, more in harmony with the ruff about her yellow, thin neck.
+Her sharp, angular features were redeemed by large, dark eyes, flashing
+with marvellous brilliancy from under the thick, gray eyebrows, and
+with quick, penetrating glances she sometimes turned them to the ceiling
+thoughtfully as she wrote. “There, sir, is my poem,” said she, laying
+down the pen. “Listen:
+
+     ‘Govern your will;
+     If it hinders duty,
+     It fetters virtue;
+     Then envy beguiles
+     Into fault-finding.’”
+
+“Oh, how beautiful, cried the young man, enraptured. “I thank you a
+thousand times for those glorious words, and they shall henceforth be
+the guiding star of my existence.”
+
+“Go to Professor Rammler, and: then return and show me what he writes,
+for I am convinced--. Oh, Heavens! there is a stranger,” she cried, as
+she discovered Goethe, who had remained standing by the door.
+
+“Yes, a stranger,” said Goethe, smiling, and approaching, as the happy
+possessor of the album withdrew--“a stranger would not leave Berlin
+without visiting the German poetess.”
+
+“And without verses in your album; is it not so? I have become the
+fashion, and if I could only live by immortalizing myself in your
+albums, I should be free from care. Now I have divined it--you wish an
+autograph?”
+
+“No! only a good word, and a friendly shake of the hand, for I possess
+a poem and a letter which the good Frau Karschin sent me at Weimar some
+six months since, written by herself.”
+
+“Is it Goethe?” she cried, clasping her hands in astonishment. “The poet
+Johann Wolfgang Goethe, the renowned author of the work which--”
+
+“Cost you many tears,” broke in Goethe, laughing. “I beg you spare me
+these phrases, which follow me upon my journey as the Furies Orestes.
+I know that ‘Werther’ has become the favorite of the reading public; he
+has opened all the tear-ducts and made all lovers of moonlight as
+soft as a swaddling-cloth. I could punish myself for having written
+‘Werther.’”
+
+Frau Karschin laughed aloud. “That is glorious! You please me! You are
+a famous poet and a genius, for only geniuses can revise and ridicule
+themselves. Welcome, Germany’s greatest poet, welcome to the attic of
+the poetess! There is the good word which you would have, and here is
+the hand. Did you think it worth while to visit poor Karschin? I am
+rejoiced at it, for I see that they accused you unjustly of arrogance
+and pride!”
+
+“Do they accuse me of it?” asked Goethe, smiling. “Can the Berlin poets
+and authors never forgive me that I live at a court, and am honored with
+the favor of a prince?”
+
+“They would willingly forgive you if they had the power to push you one
+side, and take your place. They are angry with you, because they envy
+you and are not accustomed to be esteemed. Our prince and ruler, as
+great a hero and king as he otherwise is, cares little for German
+poetry, and for all he would care, the Berlin authors might starve,
+one and all; he would trouble himself no more about them than the flies
+dancing in the sunlight.”
+
+“The great king is still the same, then? He will never know anything of
+German literature?”
+
+“No! he declares that it is the language of barbarians and
+bear-catchers; scolds about us, and despises us, and yet knows as little
+of us as the man in the moon. He adores his Voltaire. Old Fritz knows
+the French poet by heart, but Lessing he knows nothing of. He abuses
+‘Goetz von Berlichingen,’ and ‘Werther’s Sorrows.’”
+
+“Oh! I know it all--I know the king’s adjutant-general, von Siedlitz. I
+often dine with him, and read aloud my poems to him, when he relates
+to me what the king says to enrage me. You must know when I am angry
+I speak in verse. I accustomed myself to it during my unhappy marriage
+with the tailor Karsch. When he scolded, I answered in verse, and tried
+to turn my thoughts to other things, and to make the most difficult
+rhymes. As he was always scolding and quarrelling, I always spoke in
+rhyme.”
+
+“And in this way you led a very poetical marriage?” smiled Goethe.
+
+“Yes, indeed, poetical,” she said, and her large brilliant eyes were
+dimmed. “If it is true that tears are the baptism of poets, then I
+was baptized daily for twelve years, and ought to be an extraordinary
+poetess.”
+
+“That you are, indeed,” said Goethe, “who would dispute it? You have
+given evidence of great poetical talent, and I read your heroic poem
+upon the Great Frederick with real delight.”
+
+“Do you know what he did?” she asked, bitterly. “I turned to him,
+begging for assistance; for who should a poet turn to, but his God and
+his king? Moreover, he had promised it to me personally.”
+
+“You have spoken with him, then, yourself?” asked Goethe.
+
+“Yes, eight years ago; General von Siedlitz procured me an audience. The
+king was very gracious, and among other things, asked me about my life;
+and as I explained to him my poverty and want, he most kindly promised
+to help me.” [Footnote: This interview which Frau Karschin had with the
+king is found in “Anecdotes and Traits of Character of Frederick the
+Great.” vol. ii., p. 72.]
+
+“And did he not fulfil his promise?”
+
+“No, had it been given to the least of the French writers he would have
+kept it, but to a German poet it was not worth while. What is a native
+poet to the great German king? A phantom that he knows not, and believes
+not. As great as he is, the king showed himself very small to me. I sang
+him as a poetess and he bestowed a pittance upon me as one would to a
+beggar in tatters by the wayside.”
+
+“Is it really true, upon your supplication--”
+
+“Sent me two thalers! Yes, that is indeed true, and I see by your smile
+that you know it, and know also that I returned it to him. I had rather
+die with hunger than take a beggar’s penny. But let me relate to you
+what happened two weeks since. I had borne patiently the affair of
+the two thalers, and forgotten it. I am more comfortable now; the
+booksellers pay me for my songs and poems very well, and a number of
+patrons and friends, at whose head is the Prince of Prussia, give me a
+small pension, from which I can at least live--though poorly. One of my
+patrons sent me a strip of land on the Spree not far from the Hercules
+Bridge, where I would gladly build me a little house, at last to have a
+sure abiding-place where I could retire--that would be a refuge against
+all the troubles and sorrows of life. As I thought it over, the old
+confidence and imperishable love for the great king rose again within
+me, and as I esteemed him I always hoped for the fulfilment of his
+promise. I applied to him again, and begged him to do for me what he
+had granted to so many cobblers and tailors, as the king gives
+building-money to help those who will build. All the houses of the
+Gensdarmen-markt are built by royal aid, and sometimes the king designs
+the facades, as he did for the butcher Kuhn’s great house; and sent
+him a design to ornament the frieze of ninety-nine, sheeps’ heads, only
+ninety-nine, for he said the butcher himself was the one hundredth. The
+butcher remonstrated, but he was obliged to keep them, if he would have
+the building-money.”
+
+“Really,” cried Goethe, laughing, “the king is an ingenious and
+extraordinary man in every thing, and no one is like him.”
+
+“No one is like him, and no one would have treated me as he did. I
+addressed to him a poem, begging him with true inspiration and emotion
+to let a German poetess find favor in his sight--and that he would be
+for me a Maecenas, if I were not a Horace. My heart bled with sorrow,
+that I must so beg and pray, and my tears wet the paper upon which I
+indited my begging, rhyming petition. How much money do you think the
+great king sent me for my house? Think of the smallest sum.”
+
+“If it was small, yet for building-money he would send you at least two
+hundred thalers.”
+
+The poetess burst into a scornful laugh. “He sent me three thalers! The
+great Frederick sent me three thalers to build a house!”
+
+“What did you do? Did you take them?”
+
+“Yes,” she answered, proudly, “and I will leave them as a legacy to my
+daughter, as an historical souvenir for succeeding generations, who will
+relate the benevolence of the German king for the German poetess. I sent
+the king a receipt--I will read it to you.
+
+“‘His majesty commanded, Instead of building-money, To send me three
+thalers. The order was exactly, Promptly fulfilled. I am indebted for
+thanks, But for three thalers can No joiner in Berlin My coffin make.
+Otherwise to-morrow I would order Such a house without horror Where
+worms feast, And, feasting, quarrel Over the lean, care-worn Old woman’s
+remains That the king let sigh away.’” [Footnote: See “Life and Poems of
+Louisa Karschin,” edited by her daughter.]
+
+“Why do you not laugh?” said Frau Karschin, raising her flashing eyes to
+Goethe, who sat looking down earnestly and quietly before her.
+
+“I cannot,” he gently answered. “Your poem makes me sad; it recalls the
+keen sorrow of a poet’s existence, the oft-repeated struggle between
+Ideality and Reality. The blessed of the gods must humble themselves;
+though they may raise their heads to heaven, their feet must still rest
+upon earth; and to find their way upon it, and walk humbly therein, they
+must again lower their inspired heads.”
+
+“Oh, that makes me feel better,” cried Karschin, with tears in her eyes;
+“that is balsam for my wounds. You are a great poet, Goethe, I feel it
+to be so. You are a great man, for your heart is good and filled with
+pity. How unjustly they call you cold and proud! Only be a little more
+yielding, and call upon the Berlin poets and writers. You can imagine
+that the news of your arrival ran like wild-fire through the town.
+Nicolai, Rammler, Engel, Mendelssohn, and all the other distinguished
+gentlemen have stayed at home like badgers in their kennels, watching
+for you, so as not to miss your visit. At last they became desperate,
+and scolded furiously over your arrogance and pride in thinking yourself
+better than they. Why have you not called upon them?”
+
+There was a loud knocking at the door, and the young man with his album
+entered, almost breathless. “Here I am,” said he, “I came directly from
+Professor Rammler here, as I promised you.”
+
+“You saw him, then? Has he written something for you?”
+
+“Yes, I saw him, and he granted my request.”
+
+“And abused me, did he not, with his nose turned up? You must know,
+Goethe, that Professor Rammler despises my poems, because I am not so
+learned in Greek and Roman mythology as he is. Now tell me, my young
+friend, what did he say about me?”
+
+“I promised you, upon my word of honor, to tell you every thing, but I
+hope you will release me from the promise.” sighed the young man.
+
+“No, that I will not. Much more, upon the strength of your word of
+honor, I desire it. You promised, word for word, to relate it to me.”
+
+“If it must be, then, let it be. I went at once to Professor Rammler’s.
+He asked me immediately if I had not been here.”
+
+“Just as I asked you,” laughed Karschin.
+
+“I affirmed it, saying that you showed me his house. Upon which he
+asked, ‘Did she say any thing against me? She is accustomed to do it
+before strangers, like all old women.’ He then turned over my album, and
+as he saw the lines you wrote he reddened, and striking the book--‘I see
+it, she knew she had said something about me. She tells every stranger
+that I think she is censorious. What she has written is aimed at me.’
+Upon that he wrote some lines opposite yours, shut the book, and handed
+it to me. I have not even had the time to read them.”
+
+“Read them now, quickly.”
+
+“‘He who slanders and listens to slander, let him be punished. She may
+be hung by the tongue, and he by the ears.’” [Footnote: This scene took
+place literally, and may be found in “Celebrated German Authors,” vol.
+II., p. 340.]
+
+“That is shameful--that is mean!” said Frau Karschin, while Goethe
+re-read the cutting epigram. “That is just like Rammler; his tongue is
+like a two-edged sword for every one but himself, and he fans his
+own glories, and does not know that he is a fool. Frederick the Great
+himself called him so. One of his generals called his attention to
+him, upon which Frederick turned his horse, riding directly up to him,
+asking, ‘Is this the distinguished Rammler?’ ‘Yes, your majesty, I am
+he,’ the little professor proudly bowed. ‘You are a fool!’ called out
+Frederick, very loud, and rode away, as all around the ‘Great Rammler’
+laughed and sneered. There are many such stories. Shall I tell you how
+Lessing teased him?”
+
+“No, dear woman, tell me nothing more. I perceive your Berlin writers
+and poets are a malicious, contentious set of people. I may well fear
+you, and shall be glad to escape unharmed. Think kindly of me, and have
+pity upon me; if the others are too severe, raise your dear hand and
+hold back the scourge that it may not fall upon poor Wolfgang Goethe.
+Adieu, dear Frau Karschin.”
+
+Goethe bowed, and hastened down into the street. “With the authors and
+poets of Berlin I wish nothing more to do, but with the philosophers
+I may be more fortunate, and with them find the wisdom and forbearance
+which fail the poets.”
+
+Goethe bent his steps to Spandauer Street, in which the merchant
+and philosopher Moses Mendelssohn lived; hastened up the stairs, and
+knocked, which was answered by an old servant, to whom Goethe announced
+himself. The servant disappeared, and the poet stood in the little,
+narrow corridor, smilingly looking to the study-door, and waiting for
+the “gates of wisdom” to open and let the worldling enter the temple of
+philosophy.
+
+The crooked little man, the great philosopher, Moses, son of
+Mendelssohn, stood behind the door, turning over in his mind whether
+he would receive Goethe or not. “Why should I? The proud secretary of
+legation has already been in Berlin eight days, and wishes to prove to
+me that he cares little for Berlin philosophers. My noble friend,
+the great Lessing, cannot abide ‘Gotz von Berlichingen;’ and Nicolai,
+Rammler, and Engel are the bitter opponents, the very antipodes of the
+rare genius and secretary of legation from Weimar. If he wishes to see
+me, why did he come so late, so--”
+
+“Herr Goethe is waiting--shall he enter?” asked the servant.
+
+The philosopher raised his head. “No,” cried he, loudly. “No! tell him
+you were mistaken. I am not at home.”
+
+The old servant looked quite frightened at his master--the first time he
+had heard an untruth from him. “What shall I say, sir?”
+
+“Say no,” cried Moses, very excited and ill-humored. “Say that I am not
+at home--that I am out.”
+
+With a determined, defiant manner the philosopher seated himself to work
+upon his new book, “Jerusalem,” saying to himself, “I am right to send
+him away; he waited too long, is too late.” [Footnote: From Ludwig Tieck
+I learned this anecdote, and he assured me that Moses Mendelssohn
+told it to him.--See “Goethe in Berlin, Leaves of Memory,” p. 6.--The
+Authoress.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. FAREWELL TO BERLIN.
+
+
+“What is the matter, my dear Wolf?” cried the duke, as Goethe returned
+from his visits. “What mean those shadows upon your brow? Have the
+cursed beaux-esprits in Berlin annoyed and tortured you?”
+
+“No, duke, I--” and suddenly stopping, he burst into a loud ringing
+laugh, and sprang about the room, bounding up and down, shouting,
+“Hurrah! hurrah! Long live the philosophers, vivat the philosophers!”
+
+“They shall live--live--live,’’ shouted the duke!
+
+“Vivat the philosophers! hurrah! To the May-sports upon the Blockberg
+they ride upon a little ass with golden horns--with Pharisaical mien,
+praying with their eyes, ‘I thank Thee, O Lord, that I am a philosopher,
+that I am not as the world’s children, vain, proud, and arrogant.’ Hey,
+good Carl Augustus, today a great revelation has been made known to me
+by a philosopher. Wisdom flowed from his mouth. All the spiders in their
+gray, self-woven nets, whispered and sang in his corridor, ‘We weave at
+the fountain of life, we spin the web of time.’ The little mice crept
+out from the corners, whispering, Hallelujah! Here lives the great
+philosopher Moses, who has devoured wisdom, and is unknowing of earthly
+vanities. Oh! the mice and the spiders waltz together upon the threshold
+of the great philosopher. Hey, ha! a waltz we will dance!”
+
+Goethe caught the duke with both arms around the waist, and tore around
+in a giddy whirl, both laughing, both shrieking. Wolfshund, the duke’s
+dog, asleep in the corner, sprang up howling and barking at their wild
+bounds and goat-like springs, and joined the dancers. As Goethe felt
+the ribbon which confined his cue give way, he shook wildly his curly,
+powdered hair and it fell in mad confusion. Both he and the duke now
+sank exhausted to the floor, panting and laughing.
+
+“Heaven be praised, Wolf,” said the duke, “the must has once more
+fermented, and sprung a few of the hoops of dignity?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Goethe, who suddenly assumed a grave, serious mien, “the
+must has fermented, and I trust a fine wine will clear itself from it.”
+
+“Can you not set off, Wolf?” asked the duke, springing up. “Have you had
+sufficient of the Berliners?”
+
+“I have done with them,” replied Goethe, “not only with the Berliners,
+but it may be with all the rest of humanity. I feel, my duke, that the
+bloom of confidence, candor, and self-sacrificing love fades daily;
+only for you, and the friend whom I love, is there still attraction and
+flagrancy. Oh! you dear ones, be charitable, and do not consent that
+they fade for you. Let the goodness which I read in your eyes, my
+dear Carl, and the sunny rays of friendship strengthen the poor
+little blossom, that it does not entirely fade and wither away!” With
+passionate earnestness he threw his arms around the duke, pressing him
+to his bosom.
+
+“Oh! Wolf, my dear Wolf, you have a child’s heart and a poet’s soul. Are
+you faint-hearted and dispirited? Do you not know that you are the sun
+which brings forth the flowers for us, and shines for us all? Let no
+clouds overshadow you, Wolf! Let your fresh, youthful vigor, and divine
+brilliancy, penetrate them. In the thick, sandy atmosphere of Berlin I
+confess the sun itself loses its force and brightness! Come! let us be
+off. Our steeds stamp with impatience.” The duke drew his friend from
+the room and joyfully they sprang down the stairs to the carriage, the
+great dog following, howling and barking after them. “Forward, then,
+forward! Blow, postilion, blow! A gay little air! Let it peal through
+the streets, a farewell song! Blow, postilion, blow! and I will moisten
+your throat at the gates with the thin, white stuff, which you have the
+boldness to call beer.” The postilion laughed for joy, and the German
+song resounded in quivering tones--“Three riders rode out of the gate.”
+ He blew so long and loudly, that the dog set up a mournful howl, and
+amid the peals of the postilion, and the distressed cry of Wolfshund,
+they drove through the long, hot streets of Berlin, through the Leipsic
+Gate, and the suburbs with their small, low houses. The wagon-wheels
+sank to the spokes in the loose, yellow sand of the hill they soon
+mounted, and, arriving at the top of which, the postilion stopped to let
+his horses take breath, and turned to remind his aristocratic passengers
+that this was their last view of the city.
+
+“And will be seen no more,” repeated the duke. “Come, let us take a
+farewell look at Berlin, Wolf!” and away they sprang without waiting for
+the footman to descend, and waded through the sand to a rising in the
+fallow fields. There they stood, arm in arm, and viewed the town with
+its towers and chimneys, houses, barracks, and palaces stretched at
+their feet. A thick, gray, cloud of vapor and smoke hovered over it,
+and veiled the horizon in dust and fog. “Farewell, Berlin, you city of
+arrogance and conceit!” cried the duke, joyfully. “I shake your dust
+from my feet, and strew the sand of your fields over every souvenir of
+you in memory,” and suiting the action to his words, he tossed a handful
+of it in the air.
+
+“Farewell, Muses and Graces of sand and dust!” cried Goethe, as his
+fiery eye flashed far out over the fog-enveloped roofs. “Farewell,
+Berlin, void of nature and without verdure! the abode of poetic art, but
+not of poesy. You Babylon of wisdom and philosophy, I have seen you
+with your painted cheeks and coquettish smile, your voluptuous form and
+seductive charms. You shall never ensnare me with your deceitful beauty,
+and suck the marrow from my bones, or the consciousness of pure humanity
+from my soul. Beautiful may you be to enslaved intellects, but to the
+free, they turn their backs to you and thrice strew ashes on your head.
+Farewell, Berlin, may I never see you again!” [Goethe, in fact, never
+visited Berlin again, though he was often invited there, particularly
+when the new theatre was opened, with a poetic prologue written by
+himself. They inaugurated the festivity with Goethe’s “Iphigenia,” the
+first representation, and Prince Radzwill urgently invited the poet,
+through Count Bruhl, to visit Berlin at this time, and reside in his
+palace. But Goethe refused; he was seventy-two years old (1826), and
+excused himself on account of his age.] Goethe stooped and threw a
+handful of sand in the air.
+
+The postilion, tired of standing in the burning sun, blew loudly the air
+of the soldier’s song: “Now, adieu, Louisa, wipe your face, every ball
+does not hit.” Mournfully the melody sounded in the stillness, like
+accusing spirits who wept the insult of the prince and the poet.
+
+“Now, on to our dear Weimar, Wolf!” The carriage rolled down the sandy
+hill, and Berlin disappeared to the travellers, lost in dreamy thought.
+Slowly they advanced, in spite of relays and fresh horses at every
+station. Night spread out her starry mantle over the world, and the
+sleepers who rested from the burdens and cares of the day. Goethe alone
+was wakeful and vigilant. With his beautiful eyes, as brilliant as
+fallen stars, uplifted to heaven, to God, his manly bosom heaving with
+noble thoughts and glorious aspirations, he reviewed the past, and
+recalled with joy that he had accomplished much and well. He peered into
+the future, and promised himself to do more and better. “Yes, I will,”
+ whispered he softly, pointing to the stars; “so high as possible
+shall the pyramid of my being rise. To that I will constantly bend my
+thoughts, never forgetting it, for I dare not tarry; with the years
+already on my head, fate may arrest my steps, and the tower of Babylon
+remain unfinished. At least they must acknowledge the edifice was boldly
+designed, and if I live, God willing, it shall rise.”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK III. STORM AND PRESSURE
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT.
+
+
+Frederick commenced the campaign against the house of Hapsburg with all
+the energy and bold courage of former days. The diplomats had once
+more been permitted to seek the arts of negotiation, and, these
+having failed, the king advanced rapidly, and entered Bohemia with his
+advance-guard. The imperial army, informed of the approach of the enemy,
+retired hurriedly to their intrenchments at Koeniggratz, beyond the
+Elbe, without a decisive battle. In the skirmishes at the outposts the
+Prussians had been victorious. On the opposite shore of the Elbe, at
+Welsdorf, the king took up his headquarters. Why did he not pursue his
+bold run of victory? Why did he not surprise the imperial army, which he
+knew was scattered, and not in a position to resist the strength of the
+Prussian forces? Moreover, the second column of the Prussian army, under
+the command of Prince Henry, had also entered Bohemia, and fortified a
+camp near Rimburg, having united with the Saxon allies, which caused the
+imperialists under Field-Marshal Loudon to seek protection beyond the
+Iser, near Muenchengratz and Yung-bunzlau. Why did the king then stop
+in the midst of his victorious career? He had advanced to the field
+with his fresh, youthful fire, a shining example to all. He was always
+mounted, shunning no danger, but taking part in the hardships and
+fatigue incident to the changing life of war; even showing himself
+personally active at the discovery of foraging-parties. Why did he
+suddenly hesitate and lie inactive in camp? Why did he not summon his
+generals and staff-officers to his quarters, instead of his Minister von
+Herzberg? Every one asked himself the question, and every one answered
+it differently.--Some said, “Because the Empress of Russia had raised
+objections to this war of German brothers;” others, that “the King of
+the French had offered to settle the quarrel as intermediator.” A third
+said, the “empress-queen, Maria Theresa, was terrified at the rapid
+advance of the Prussians, and had immediately commenced negotiations for
+peace.”
+
+While the wise politicians of Germany and all Europe read and pondered,
+Frederick tarried quietly in his peasant-house, in which he had taken up
+his quarters, and which had been arranged very comfortably with
+carpets, camp-stools, and curtains. He sat in his cabinet upon the
+high, leather-covered arm-chair, which had been brought for him from the
+neighboring parsonage. Alkmene lay upon his knee, and Diana at his feet.
+His countenance was pale, and betrayed fatigue, but his eye beamed with
+undimmed brilliancy, and around his mouth played an ironical smile.
+“Well, so matters stand; therefore, I have summoned you to Welsdorf,”
+ said Frederick to his minister, Von Herzberg. “The empress-queen is,
+above all things, a most tender mother. She is fearfully anxious, now
+that the dear young Emperor Joseph has left for the army, and will be
+exposed to the dangers of war. My good friends in Vienna inform me that
+my entrance into Bohemia created a sensation at the brilliant capital,
+and had so much alarmed the empress-queen, that she was seriously
+thinking of negotiating for peace. As I learned this from a reliable
+source, I halted and encamped, that the empress should know where to
+find me, and sent to summon you immediately. I had not been here three
+days, when the empress’s ambassador, Baron von Thugut, appeared to make
+offers, and consult about an armistice of two weeks. I made known my
+conditions, and promised the empress, through her negotiator, that I
+would so calculate my movements that her majesty would have nothing
+to fear for her blood and her cherished emperor. [Footnote: The king’s
+words.--See “Prussia, Frederick the Great,” vol. iv., p. 102.] Voila,
+mon cher ministre, you know all now. If the Austrian diplomat comes a
+second time, you can negotiate with him.”
+
+“Is your majesty also inclined to peace?” asked Herzberg.
+
+The king shrugged his shoulders. “When it can be arranged with honor,
+yes,” said he. “I will acknowledge, Herzberg, to you, the campaign is
+hard for me. The old fellow of sixty-eight feels the burden of life, and
+would gladly rest quietly, and enjoy the last few years as philosopher
+and writer instead of soldier.”
+
+“Your majesty has yet many years to live, God willing,” cried Herzberg.
+“It would be a great misfortune to Prussia if she could not yet owe to
+her great king a long and happy reign.”
+
+“Hem!” replied the king, “there are in Prussia very many who think
+otherwise, and wish me to the devil. But I have no intention of seeking
+monsieur so soon, for there are sufficient devilish deeds to endure in
+this earthly vale of sorrow to prepare for one a very decent purgatory,
+and give him hereafter well-founded hopes of heaven. Therefore I count
+upon remaining here below a while, and to knead with you this leaven of
+life that may yield to my subjects an eatable bread. You must help me,
+Herzberg, when I am the baker, to provide the flour for my people; you
+must be the associate to knead the bread. In order that the flour should
+not fail, and the bread give out, it may be necessary, if possible, to
+make peace.”
+
+“Will your majesty be so gracious as to inform me what steps I may take,
+and upon what conditions?”
+
+“Take this paper,” said the king, extending a written document
+to Herzberg. “I have therein expressed my wishes, and you can act
+accordingly. I am prepared for peace upon any terms which can be made
+with honor, and which do not frustrate the aim I have in view. You well
+know that this is the security of Germany against Austria’s ambitious
+love of territorial aggrandizement! I cannot and I will not suffer that
+the house of Habsburg should strive for unjust possession in Germany,
+and appropriate Bavaria to herself while a lawful heir exists. I well
+know that I play the role of Don Quixote, and am about to fight for the
+rights of Germany as the Chevalier de la Mancha fought for his Dulcinea
+del Toboso. Mais, que voulez-vous, it is necessary for my fame and
+repose that I enter the arena once more against Austria to prove to her
+that I exist. I take this step on account of the prestige I have gained
+in the German empire, and which I should lose if I had not faced Austria
+in this Bavarian contest. And besides, it is agreeable to me to accustom
+my successor to the thunder of cannon, and witness his bearing on the
+field of battle.”
+
+“He will certainly do honor to the heroic race of Hohenzollern,”
+ answered Herzberg, bowing.
+
+A sudden flash from the king’s fiery eyes met the calm pale face
+of Herzberg. “Mere words and flattery, which prove that you are not
+satisfied, Herzberg! Nay, nay, do not deny it; you do not like that I
+should tarry and treat, and set the pen in motion instead of the sword.
+You are a man of deeds, and if you had had your way, I should have
+already won a decisive battle, and be on the road to Vienna to besiege
+the empress in her citadel, and dictate an humiliating peace to her.”
+
+“Your majesty, I can assure you--”
+
+“Well, well, do not quarrel!” interrupted the king; “do you suppose I
+cannot read your honest and obstinate face? Do you suppose I did not
+mean what I said? Acknowledge that I am right! confess it, I command
+you!”
+
+“If your majesty commands it, then I will acknowledge it. Yes, I did
+wish that your majesty had not empowered Baron von Thugut to return
+for further negotiations. It would have been well if your majesty had
+marched victorious to Vienna, to let the proud Hapsburgers see for once
+that Frederick of Prussia does not stand behind them, but at their side;
+that he has created a new order of things; that the old, mouldy, rotten
+statutes of the imperial sovereignty have fallen in the dust before
+Frederick the Great; that Germany must be newly mapped out, in order to
+give room near the old man Austria for young Prussia. Yes, your majesty,
+I could have wished that you had even been less generous, less noble
+toward the supercilious, insolent enemy, and have accepted no conditions
+but those of ‘equality for Prussia with Austria in the German empire!’”
+
+“My dear sir, I am truly astonished at the vigor with which you express
+yourself; I am very glad to find you so enthusiastic,” said Frederick,
+nodding to his minister; “but listen--I will confide to you that which
+I do not wish you to repeat: I am no longer, to my regret, what you so
+flatteringly call me, ‘Frederick the Great,’ but only ‘Old Fritz.’ Do
+you understand me? the latter is a deplorable, worn-out soldier, who no
+longer feels power or vigor. The lines of Boileau often recur to me on
+mounting my horse:
+
+     ‘Unfortunate one, leave thy steed growing old in peace,
+     For fear, that, panting and suddenly out of breath,
+     In falling, he may not leave his master upon the arena!’
+
+It is the misery of life that man will grow old, and that the body, when
+worn and weary, will even subdue the spirit, and force her to fold her
+wings and suffer. I did not realize that it had gone so far with me,
+and I imagined that the winged soul could raise the old, decayed body.
+Therefore I risked, in spite of my lazy old age, to undertake this war,
+for I recognized it as a holy duty to enter into it, for the honor and
+justice of our country, and prove to the Emperor of Germany that he
+could not manage and rule at his will in the German empire. I long not
+for the honor of new laurels, but I should be satisfied, as father of my
+subjects, to gain a civil crown.
+
+“There you have my creed. I have as sincerely confessed to you as my
+respectable cousin, the empress-queen, to her confessor; only I did not
+fall upon my knees to you, and you do not as the said confessor, betray
+me to the Holy Father at Rome.”
+
+“Your majesty well knows that every word which you have the grace to
+confide to me, is engraved upon my inmost soul, and that no power upon
+earth could force me to reveal it.”
+
+“I know that you are a true and zealous servant of your king and
+country,” said Frederick. “Once more I say to you, other than an
+honorable peace I will not make; and if empress-queen does not accept
+the abandonment of Bavaria as the basis of peace, then I must conquer my
+aversion to war, and the sword must arrange what the pen has failed to
+do. And now, passons ladessus! Until Thugut arrives, let us speak of
+other things. I have been tolerably industrious, and have improved the
+leisure of camp-life as much as possible. I have written a panegyric
+upon Voltaire, and when it is revised and corrected you shall arrange an
+anniversary in memoriam, at the Berlin Academy, and read my eulogy.”
+
+“All Germany and all Europe will be surprised at the magnanimity of
+the royal mind which could occupy itself in the camp with the muse, and
+erect an imperishable monument to the man who witnessed such ingratitude
+and baseness to his benefactor and protector.”
+
+“Vous allez trop vite, mon cher; vraiment, trop vite,” cried Frederick,
+ardently. “It is true Voltaire was a miserable fellow, but he was a
+great poet. He returned meanness and ingratitude to me for the many
+kindnesses I showed to him, for I treated him more like a friend than a
+king. Voltaire was my benefactor, in so far that I owed to him the most
+agreeable and elevating hours of my youth, In memory of these hours I
+have written this eulogy. It is not worthy of particular mention, and
+the Academie Francaise will doubtless severely criticise my knowledge of
+their language. But it is impossible to write well, one moment in camp
+and another on the march. If it is unworthy of him whom it was intended
+to celebrate, I have at least availed myself of the freedom of the pen,
+and will cause to be publicly read in Berlin what one dares not whisper
+in Paris.” [Footnote: The king’s own words.--“Posthumous Works,” vol.
+xv., p. 109. This eulogy upon Voltaire, which the king wrote in camp,
+Herzberg read, in the November following, before the Academy.]
+
+“I shall be most happy to be the instrument to make known this generous
+expression of your majesty’s good-will,” remarked Herzberg, bowing.
+
+Frederick smiled, adding: “But with the other work which I have
+commenced, you are not quite satisfied. You are such an enthusiastic
+German, that you presume to assert that the intolerable German jargon is
+a beautiful and expressive language!”
+
+“And I abide by this decision, your majesty,” zealously cried Herzberg.
+“The German language is euphonious, and prolific in ideas, and it
+is well capable of rivalling in brevity and clearness those of the
+ancients.”
+
+“That you have already asserted, and I have contested it, and again I
+contest it to-day. Do not trouble me with your German language. It
+will only deserve notice when great poets, distinguished orators, and
+admirable historians, have given it their attention and corrected it,
+freeing it from such disgusting and effeminate phrases as now disfigure
+it, and cause one to use a mass of words to express a few ideas. At
+present it is only an accumulation of different dialects, which every
+division of the German empire thinks to speak the best, and of which
+twenty thousand can scarcely understand what the other twenty thousand
+are saying!” [Footnote: The king’s own words.--See “Posthumous Works,”
+ vol. xv.]
+
+“Sire,” cried Herzberg, with vehemence, “should a German king thus
+speak of his native tongue, at the same time that he takes the field
+to vindicate the honor of Germany, and submits to all the miseries and
+hardships of war? Your majesty cannot be in earnest, to despise our
+beautiful language.”
+
+“I do not despise it; I only say that it must be reformed, and shorn of
+its excrescences. Until then we must use the French, which is to-day the
+language of the world, and in which one can render all the master-works
+of the Greeks and the Latins, with the same versatility, delicacy, and
+subtlety, as the original. You pretend that one can well read Tacitus
+in a German translation, but I do not think the language capable of
+rendering the Latin authors with the same brevity as the French.”
+
+“Sire, to my joy, I can give you proof to the contrary. A Berlin savant,
+Conrector Moritz, at my request, has translated a few chapters of
+the fourteenth book of the ‘Annals of Tacitus,’ word for word,
+most faithfully into German. He has written it in two columns, the
+translation at the side of the original. I have taken the liberty to
+bring this work with me and you will see how exactly, and with what
+brevity, Latin authors can be rendered into German, and that there are
+young learned men who have seized the spirit of our language and know
+how to use it with grace and skill.”
+
+“Indeed, give it to me,” cried the king, zealously. “I am truly curious
+to admire the German linguist’s work who has so boldly undertaken to
+translate Tacitus.”
+
+“Sire,” said Herzberg, raising his eyes knowingly, with a mild,
+imploring expression to the king’s face--“sire, I join a request with
+this translation.”
+
+“What is it? I am very curious about a petition from you, it is so
+seldom that you proffer one.”
+
+“Your majesty, my request concerns the translator of this very chapter
+of Tacitus. He is Conrector Moritz, attached to the Gray Cloister in
+Berlin--an unusually gifted young man, who has undoubtedly a brilliant
+future before him. He has already written many eminent works. The
+Director Gedicke recommended him to me as a most distinguished,
+scholarly person, and I have learned to know and appreciate the young
+man by this means.”
+
+“I see it,” nodded the king. “You speak of him with great enthusiasm,
+and as what you so warmly recommend is generally able and well
+qualified, I begin to be interested in this Herr Moritz. When I return
+to Berlin--and Heaven grant that it may be soon!--I will at once empower
+you to present this luminary. Are you satisfied?”
+
+“Sire, dare I ask still more? I would beg your majesty to grant this
+young man an audience at once.”
+
+“How, at once! Is this phoenix here, who so interests my Minister
+Herzberg? Where is he from, and what does he wish?”
+
+“He is from Berlin; I met him making the journey on foot. He sat upon a
+stone, by the wayside, eating a piece of bread, with a glowing face, and
+so absorbed talking to himself in Latin that he heard not the creaking
+of my carriage through the sand. I recognized him immediately, and
+called him by name. He turned, perfectly unembarrassed and not at all
+ashamed to have been discovered in such an humble and poor position.”
+
+“That is to say, he is a good comedian,” said the king. “He knew that
+you would drive past there, and placed himself expressly to call your
+attention to him.”
+
+“I beg pardon, sire; Conrector Moritz could not have known that I
+would take this journey. You will recollect that the courier arrived at
+midnight with your majesty’s commands, and two hours later I was on the
+road, and have since travelled day and night. As I met the young man
+only five miles from this place, he must have set out many days before I
+thought of leaving Berlin.”
+
+“It is true,” said the king, “it was a false suspicion. You invited him
+into your carriage, did you not?”
+
+“I did very naturally, sire, as he told me he was going to beg an
+audience of your majesty. At first he refused decidedly, as he wished to
+travel on foot, like the pilgrims to the pope at Rome.”
+
+“An original, a truly original genius,” cried the king.
+
+“He is so indeed, and is so called by all his friends.”
+
+“Has he any friends?” asked the king, with an incredulous smile.
+
+“Yes, sire, many warm and sympathizing friends, who are much attached to
+him, and, on account of his distinguished and brilliant qualities, are
+willing to indulge his peculiarities.”
+
+“Herzberg, you are charmed, and speak of this man as a young girl in
+love!”
+
+“Sire, if I were a young girl, I should certainly fall in love with this
+Moritz, for he is handsome.”
+
+“Diable! I begin to fear this subject. You say he is handsome, learned,
+wise, and good, although he belongs to the airy, puffed-up Berliners.
+Did you let Herr Moritz wander on in his pilgrimage?”
+
+“No, sire, I persuaded him at last to accept a seat in my carriage, by
+explaining to him that your majesty might soon leave Welsdorf, and he
+would run the risk of not arriving in season. Upon no condition would
+he get inside, but climbed up behind, for, said he, with a firm,
+decided manner, ‘I go to the king as a beggar, not as a distinguished
+gentleman.’”
+
+“Indeed it is an original,” the king murmured to himself. “Do you know
+what the man wants?” he asked aloud.
+
+“No, your majesty; he said that his business concerned the happiness of
+two human beings, and that he could only open his heart to his God and
+his king.”
+
+“Where is your protege?”
+
+“He stands outside, and it is my humble request that your majesty will
+grant him an audience, and permit me to call him.”
+
+“It is granted, and--”
+
+Just at that moment the door opened, and the footman announced that the
+private secretary of his highness Prince von Galitzin had arrived, and
+most respectfully begged an audience.
+
+“It is he--it is the baron,” said the king. “Tell your protege he must
+wait, and come again. Bid the Prince von Galitzin enter.”
+
+As the Minister von Herzberg withdrew, the Baron von Thugut appeared,
+the extraordinary and secret ambassador of the Empress Maria Theresa.
+
+“Well, Herr Baron, you are already returned,” said the king, as he
+scarcely nodded to the profoundly respectful bows of the ambassador. “I
+infer, therefore, that your instructions are not from the empress, but
+from the co-regent, the Emperor Joseph, who has betaken himself to the
+Austrian camp.”
+
+“Sire,” answered Thugut, laconically, “I have driven day and night, and
+have received my instructions directly from the empress.”
+
+The king slowly shook his head, and an imperceptible smile played around
+his lips.
+
+“Does the young emperor approve of these instructions?”
+
+“Sire, his majesty, the emperor, is only the co-regent,” answered
+Thugut, hastily. “It is not therefore necessary, that my sovereign
+should make her decisions dependent upon her son’s concordance.”
+
+“The empress will negotiate for peace,” said the king to himself, “but
+the emperor desires to win laurels in the war, and will try to cut off
+the negotiations of his mother by a coup de main. One must be on his
+guard!”
+
+Just then the door opened and Herzberg returned.
+
+“You perceive I expected you, Baron von Thugut,” said the king, “and I
+ordered here my minister of state, Herr von Herzberg. This is the Baron
+von Thugut, my dear minister, the ambassador of the empress-queen, who
+carries in his pocket peace or war, as it may be.”
+
+“Sire, I must protest against being so important a personage, as peace
+and war alone depend upon your majesty. It alone depends upon the lofty
+King of Prussia whether he will give peace and tranquillity to Germany,
+or suffer the guilt of permitting the bloody scourge of civil war again
+to tear in pieces the unhappy German nation.”
+
+“That sounds very sentimental,” cried the king, smiling. “The Baron von
+Thugut will appeal to my heart, when we have only to do with the head.
+Austria wishes to be the head of Germany, and as such would devour one
+German state after another, as a very palatable morsel. But if you will
+be the head, Monsieur le Baron, you cannot represent the stomach also,
+for, as I have been told, it only exists in those soft animals of the
+sea whose head is in their stomach, and which think and digest at the
+same time. Austria does not belong to this class, but has rather a very
+hard and impenetrable shell. We cannot let her devour as stomach what as
+the head she has chosen as booty. That the electorate of Bavaria is not
+to be devoured, is the necessary and fundamental preliminary upon which
+the temple of peace may be erected. If you, or rather the empress-queen,
+agree to it, the negotiations can be concluded by you two gentlemen.
+But if you think to erect a temple of peace upon any other basis,
+your propositions will be in vain. I have not taken the field to make
+conquests, but to protect the rights of a German prince, and not suffer
+others to appropriate a German state. I know, as you have said, that war
+is a bloody scourge for the nation; but, sir, we will not look at it in
+a sentimental light, and talk of civil war, when Austria herself compels
+us to take the field. Or, perhaps, you imagine to prove to my good
+Pomeranians, Markers, and my other German states, that the Croatians,
+Pandurians, Hungarians, Wallachians, Italians, and Polanders, are our
+German brothers, which imperial Austria opposes to us. I think this
+brotherhood may be traced to our common ancestor, Adam, and in this
+sense all wars are indeed civil wars. In any case war is a scourge for
+man, and I am convinced that the empress-queen would just as willingly
+spare her Croatians, Pandurians, Wallachians, and Galicians, as I all my
+German subjects collectively.”
+
+“Also your majesty’s Polish subjects, as may be expected,” added Baron
+von Thugut.
+
+“My Polish subjects are the minimum portion, and are about in proportion
+to the German population as in imperial Austria the German is to the
+foreign. But enough of this; if I do not recognize this as a civil
+war, it is indeed a great misfortune. I would do every thing to avoid
+it--every thing compatible with the honor and glory of my house, as well
+as that of Germany in general. Therefore let us know the Views of the
+empress-queen!”
+
+“Sire,” answered Von Thugut, as he slowly untied and unfolded the
+documents, “I beg permission to read aloud to your majesty the acts
+relative to these points.”
+
+“No, baron,” answered the king quickly, “the more minute details give to
+my minister; I wish only the contents in brief.”
+
+“At your majesty’s command. The empress-queen declares herself ready
+to renounce the concluded treaty of inheritance to the succession of
+Bavaria at the death of Elector Charles Theodore; also to give up the
+district seized, if Prussia will promise to resign the succession of
+the Margraves of Anspach and Baireuth, and let them remain independent
+principalities, governed by self-dependent sovereigns.”
+
+“That means, that Austria, who will unjustly aggrandize herself by
+Bavaria, will deprive Prussia of a lawful inheritance!” cried the king,
+his eyes flashing anger. “I will not heed the after-cause, but I wish
+to satisfactorily understand the first part of the proposition, that
+Austria will cede her pretensions to Bavaria.”
+
+“Sire, upon conditions only which are sufficient for the honor, the
+wishes, and necessities of my lofty mistress.”
+
+“You hear, my dear Herzberg,” said the king, smiling, and turning to his
+minister, “c’est tout comme chez nous. It will now be your task to find
+out these conditions, which too closely affect the honor of one or the
+other. For this purpose you will find the adjacent Cloister Braunau more
+convenient than my poor cabin. At the conferences of diplomats much time
+is consumed, while we military people have little time to spare. I shall
+move on with my army.”
+
+“How, then! will your majesty break up here?” cried Thugut, with evident
+surprise.
+
+The king smiled. “Yes, I shall advance, as my remaining might be
+construed equal to a retreat. The arts of diplomacy may drag on until
+the imperialists have assembled all their foreign subjects to the
+so-called civil war. Then hasten the negotiations, Baron von Thugut,
+for every day of diplomatic peace is one day more of foraging war, and I
+know not that you count the Bohemians in the German brotherhood, to whom
+the calamity of war is ruinous. You have now to deal with the Baron
+von Thugut, my dear Herzberg, and I hope the baron will accept some
+diplomatic campaigns with you in Cloister Braunau.”
+
+“Sire, I accept, and if your majesty will dismiss me, I will go at once
+to the cloister,” answered Baron von Thugut, whose manner had become
+graver and more serious since the king’s announcement of the intended
+advance.
+
+“You are at liberty to withdraw. The good and hospitable monks have
+already been apprised of your arrival by an express courier, and have
+doubtless a good supper and a soft bed awaiting you.”
+
+“Had your majesty the grace to be convinced of my return?” asked Thugut.
+
+“I was convinced of the tender heart of the empress-queen, and that she
+would graciously try once more, in her Christian mercy, to convert such
+an old barbarian and heretic as I am. Go now to the cloister, and when I
+pass by in the morning, with my army, I will not fail to have them play
+a pious air for the edification of the diplomats--such as, ‘My soul,
+like the young deer, cries unto Thee,’ or, ‘Oh, master, I am thy old
+dog,’ or some such heavenly song to excite the diplomats to pious
+thoughts, and therewith I commend you to God’s care, Baron von Thugut.”
+
+The king charged Herr von Herzberg to play the role of
+grand-chamberlain, and accompany the ambassador to his carriage,
+smiling, and slightly nodding a farewell.
+
+The baron was on the point of leaving, when the king called to him.
+
+“Had your majesty the grace to call me?” asked Thugut, hastily turning.
+
+“Yes!” answered Frederick, smiling, and pointing to the string which
+had served to bind the baron’s papers. “You have forgotten something,
+my lord, and I do not like to enrich myself with others’ property.”
+ [Footnote: Historical. The king’s words.--See Hormayr.]
+
+Baron von Thugut took this last well-aimed stab of his royal opponent
+somewhat embarrassed, and hastened to pick up the string, and withdraw.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE KING AND THE LOVER.
+
+
+The king smiled, glancing at the retreating figure of the baron, and
+approached the window to peep through the little green glass panes to
+see him as he passed by.
+
+“A sly fox,” said he, smiling, “but I will prove to him that we
+understand fox-hunting, and are not deceived by cunning feints.”
+
+“Will your majesty really break up to-day?” asked Von Herzberg, upon
+returning.
+
+“Yes, my dear minister. That is to say, I do not wish to, but I must, in
+order to give the negotiations for peace a war-like character. The enemy
+asks for delay to finish their preparations for war--not peace. The
+negotiations for the latter emanate from the empress, but the conditions
+concerning Anspach come from the emperor. It is the Eris-apple, which
+he casts upon the table, by which his imperial mother and I would
+gladly smoke the pipe of peace. It is incumbent upon you, Herzberg, to
+negotiate for peace, while I pick up the apple and balance it a little
+upon the point of my sword. I shall leave early to-morrow, but I would
+speak with you before I set out. You must be weary with the journey, so
+rest awhile now, then dine with me, and afterward go to the conference.”
+
+“Sire, will you not receive my protege, Conrector Moritz?”
+
+“Did you not say that he begged for a secret audience?”
+
+“Yes, sire, he has for this purpose travelled the long distance from
+Berlin, and I assure your majesty, upon my word of honor, that I have
+not the least suspicion what his petition may be.”
+
+“Eh bien, say to your protege that I grant him the sought-for interview
+on your account, Herzberg. You are such a curious fellow--you are always
+petitioning for others instead of yourself, and the benefits which you
+ought to receive go to them. Let Moritz enter, and then try to sleep a
+little, that you may be wide awake to confer with Baron von Thugut.”
+
+Minister von Herzberg withdrew, and immediately the pale, earnest face
+of Conrector Philip Moritz appeared in the royal presence.
+
+The king regarded him with a prolonged and searching glance, the noble,
+resolute face of whom was pallid with deep grief, but from whose eyes
+there beamed courageous energy. “Are you the translator of the chapters
+from Tacitus, which my Minister Herzberg handed me?” asked the king,
+after a pause.
+
+“Yes, sire,” gently answered Moritz.
+
+“I am told that it is ably done,” continued his majesty, still
+attentively observing him. “You will acknowledge that it is exceedingly
+difficult to render the concise style of Tacitus into the prolix,
+long-winded German?”
+
+“Pardon me, sire,” replied Moritz, whose youthful impetuosity could
+with difficulty be diverted from the real object of his pilgrimage.
+“Our language is by no means long-winded, and there is no difficulty in
+translating Latin authors into German, which equals any living tongue
+in beauty and sonorousness, and surpasses them all in depth of thought,
+power, and poesy.”
+
+“Diable!” cried the king, smiling; “you speak like an incarnate German
+philologist, who confounds the sound of words with profound thought. You
+will acknowledge that until now our language has not been much known.”
+
+“Sire,” answered Moritz, “Martin Luther, in his translation of the Bible
+three hundred years since, employed hundreds of beautiful, expressive
+formations.”
+
+“He is not only a learned man,” said the king to himself, “but he seems
+an honorable one; and now, as I have proved his scholarly attainments,
+I must indulge his impatience.” The king’s penetrating glance softened,
+and his features changed their severe expression. “The Minister von
+Herzberg informed me that he found you by the roadside, and that you
+would journey hither on foot.”
+
+“It is true, sire.”
+
+“Why did you travel in that manner?”
+
+“Sire, I desired, as the poor, heavily-laden pilgrims of the middle
+ages, to make the pilgrimage to the Holy Father at Rome, who was the
+king of kings. Every step in advance seemed to them to lighten their
+burden and enhance their happiness. Your majesty is in our day what the
+pope was held to be in the middle ages, therefore I have wandered as
+a pilgrim to my king, who has the power to bind and to loose, and from
+whom I must not only implore personal happiness, but that also of a good
+and amiable young girl.”
+
+“Ah! it concerns a love-affair. As I now look at you, I can understand
+that. You are young and passionate, and the maidens have eyes. How can I
+help you in such an adventure?”
+
+“Sire, by not granting a title to a certain person, or if it must be
+granted, annul the conditions attendant upon it.”
+
+“I do not understand you,” answered the king, harshly. “Speak not in
+riddles. What do you mean?”
+
+“General Werrig von Leuthen has addressed himself to you, sire, praying
+for the consent of your majesty to the marriage of his daughter with
+the banker Ebenstreit. Your majesty has consented, and added that Herr
+Ebenstreit shall take the name of his future father-in-law, and the
+marriage shall take place as soon as the title of nobility has been made
+out.”
+
+The king nodded. “For which the new-made nobleman has to pay a hundred
+louis d’ors to the Invalids at Berlin. But what is that to you? And what
+connection has Herr Ebenstreit’s title to do with Conrector Moritz?”
+
+Moritz’s face brightened, and, deeply moved, he answered: “Sire, I love
+the daughter of General von Leuthen, and she returns my love. By not
+ennobling Ebenstreit, it lies in your power, most gracious majesty, to
+make two persons the most blessed of God’s creatures, who desire nothing
+more than to wander hand in hand through life, loving and trusting each
+other.”
+
+“Is that all?” asked the king, with a searching glance.
+
+Moritz quailed beneath it, and cast down his eyes. “No!” he replied.
+“As I now stand in the presence of your majesty, I am sensible of the
+boldness of my undertaking, and words fail me to express what is burning
+in my soul. Oh! sire, I only know that we love each other, and that this
+love is the first sunbeam which has fallen upon my gloomy and thorny
+path of life, and awakened in my lonely heart all the bloom of feeling.
+You smile, and your great spirit may well mock the poor human being
+who thinks of personal happiness, when for an idea merely thousands are
+killed upon the field of battle. My life, sire, has been a great combat,
+in which I have striven with all the demons escaped from Pandora’s box.
+I have grown up amid privations and need. I have lived and suffered,
+until God recompensed my joyless, toiling, hungered existence by this
+reciprocated love, which is a beautiful ornament to my life, and is life
+itself, and to renounce it would be to renounce life. I am young, sire,
+and I long for the unknown paradise of earthly happiness, which I have
+never entered until now, and which I can only attain led by the hand of
+my beloved. I yearn just once, as other privileged men, to bask in the
+sunshine of happiness a long, beautiful summer day, and then at the
+golden sunset to sink upon my knees and cry, ‘I thank Thee, O God, that
+in Thy goodness I have recognized Thy sublimity, and that Thou hast
+revealed thy glory to me.’ All this appears of little importance to your
+majesty, for the heart of a king is not like that of other men, and the
+personal happiness of individuals appears a matter of little account to
+him who thinks and works for the good of an entire nation. But the
+fly, sire, which is sunning itself upon the plumes of the helmet of a
+victorious king, has its right to happiness, for God created it with the
+same care and love that He created the noblest of His creatures--man!
+and it would be cruel to kill it without necessity. Sire, I do not extol
+myself. I know that in your eyes I am no more than the fly upon your
+helmet, but I only implore you to grant me my life, for God has given it
+to me.”
+
+“You mean by this that I shall forbid General von Leuthen to marry
+his daughter to the rich man who seeks her, and to which marriage,
+understand me well, I have already given my consent.”
+
+“Sire, I only know that this union drives not only me to despair, but
+one of the noblest and best of God’s creatures. Fraulein von Leuthen
+does not love the bridegroom forced upon her; she detests him, and
+she has good reason to, for the banker Ebenstreit is a cold-hearted,
+purse-proud man, enfeebled by a voluptuous, vicious life, and seeks
+nothing nobler and more elevated in the young girl to whom he has
+offered his hand, than the title and noble name which she can procure
+for him. Your majesty, I implore not for myself, but for the daughter
+of a man who once had the good fortune to save your life in battle! Have
+pity upon her, and do not sacrifice her to an inconsolably hopeless life
+by the side of an unloved and detested husband!”
+
+The king slowly shook his head. “You forget that the general to whom I
+am indebted for this favor has begged my consent to this marriage, and
+that I have granted it.”
+
+“Sire, I conjure you to recall it! Upon my knees I implore you not to
+grant it! Do not make two people unhappy, who only beg of your majesty
+the permission to love and live with each other!” Moritz threw himself
+at the king’s feet, praying with clasped hands, his face flushed with
+deep emotion, and his eyes dimmed with tears.
+
+“Rise!” commanded Frederick, “rise, do not kneel to me as to a God. I
+am a feeble mortal, subject to the same ills which threaten you and the
+whole human race. Rise, and answer me one question--are you rich?”
+
+“No,” answered Moritz, proudly raising his head; “no, I am poor.”
+
+“Do you know that Fraulein von Leuthen is poor? Her father is worse off
+than Job, for he is in debt.”
+
+“If General von Leuthen’s daughter were rich, or even moderately well
+off, I never would have presumed to address your majesty on the subject,
+for fear that you might misconstrue my intentions, and suppose that my
+love was inspired by self-interest. Fortunately, Marie possesses nothing
+but her noble, beautiful self. She leads a joyless existence under
+the severe discipline of her cold-hearted parents; and therefore I can
+truthfully say, that with me she will lose nothing, but gain what she
+has never known--a tranquil, happy life, protected by my love.”
+
+“How much salary do you receive as teacher?”
+
+“Majesty, as conrector of the college attached to the Gray Monastery,
+three hundred and fifty dollars.”
+
+“Do you expect to live upon that yourself, and support a family
+besides?”
+
+“Sire, I shall earn money in other ways, as I have already done. I shall
+write books. The publishers tell me that I am a favorite author, and
+they pay me well.”
+
+“If on the morrow you should fall ill, your income would vanish, and
+your family and you would starve together. No! no! you are an idealist,
+you dream how life should be, and not as it is in truth! I have listened
+to you, thinking that you would present some forcible argument upon
+which to found your pretensions, but I hear only the ravings of a lover,
+who believes the world turns upon the axis of his happiness. Let me tell
+you that love is an ephemera, which merrily sports in the sunlight a few
+short hours, and dies at sunset. Should a king forfeit his word for such
+a short-lived bliss? Should he reward a man to whom he is indebted
+by depriving him of a rich son-in-law, who is agreeable to him, and
+substituting a poor one, from whom he can never hope to receive a
+comfortable maintenance? You young people are all alike. You think only
+of yourselves, and it is a matter of little consequence to you if the
+aged pine away and die, provided you build up happiness on their graves!
+I ask you, who have talked so much about your own wishes, and those of
+your beloved, where is it written that man must be happy, that there
+is a necessity to make him so? Do you suppose that I have ever been
+happy--who have a long, active life in retrospection? Mankind have taken
+good care that I should not sip this nectar of the gods, and have taught
+me early to renounce it. Life is not consumed in pleasure, but in toil,
+and I believe its only happiness consists in the fact that at last, when
+weary and worn, we will sink into the grave--to an eternal rest! Every
+human being must work according to his abilities, and in the position
+which Fate has assigned to him. To maintain this position, his honor is
+at stake--the best and most sacred gift confided to man. You will
+not desert it--not despair in life because your dream of bliss is not
+realized.”
+
+“Sire,” answered Moritz, with a cry of anguish, “it is no dream, but a
+reality!”
+
+“Happiness is only ideal,” said the king, slowly shaking his head. “What
+we sigh for to-day, we curse on the morrow as a misfortune. Let this
+serve as a lesson to you. Toil on--you are a scholar; woo Science for
+your bride. Her charms will never fade. In youth as in old age she will
+attract you by her beauty and constancy--that which you cannot hope for
+from women.”
+
+“Sire,” asked Moritz, in deep dejection, “will you not grant the
+petition of my heart? Will you condemn this poor, innocent young girl
+who prays your majesty through me, to a long, joyless existence, to a
+daily-renewing sorrow?”
+
+The king shrugged his shoulders. “I have already said that happiness is
+imaginary; I might have added unhappiness also. General von Leuthen’s
+daughter will accustom herself to the misfortune of being a rich man’s
+wife, and finally will drive with a smiling face in her four-in-hand
+gilded carriage!”
+
+“Sire, I swear to you that you mistake this dear, noble-hearted young
+girl, you--”
+
+“Enough!” interrupted the king. “I have given my consent to General von
+Leuthen, and I cannot recall it. Moreover, the marriage of the daughter
+of my general with you would be a misalliance--ridiculous. In the
+republic of intellect and science, you may have a very high position,
+but in my earthly kingdom you hold too modest a one to presume to raise
+your eyes to a noble young lady. I regret that I can offer you no other
+consolation than to listen to reason, and be resigned. As we cannot
+bring down the moon to earth, we must content ourselves with a lamp to
+light up our small earthly abode. If this ever should fail you, then
+come to me and I will assist you. I cannot, to be sure, give you the
+moon, for that belongs as little to me as the bride of the rich Herr
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen. One cannot give away that which one does not
+possess. Farewell! return to Berlin, and resign yourself bravely to your
+fate. Accustom yourself to the thought that in fourteen days Fraulein
+von Leuthen will become the wife of your wealthy rival. The wedding
+ceremony awaits only the papers of nobility, for which my order has
+already been forwarded to Berlin. I moreover propose to you not to
+return to the college at once, but travel for two weeks. I will be
+responsible for your absence, and provide you with the necessary means.
+Now tell me whether you accept my proposal?”
+
+“Thanks to your majesty, I cannot,” answered Moritz, with calm dignity.
+“There is but one balm which my king could grant me. Money is not a
+plaster to soothe and heal a wounded heart. Sire, I beg you to dismiss
+me, for I will return at once to Berlin.”
+
+“I hope that you have not the foolish idea to return on foot,” said the
+king. “My courier will leave in an hour, and there are two places in the
+coupe, accept one of them.”
+
+“Sire,” said Moritz, gloomily, “I--” suddenly the words died on his
+lips, and his eyes beamed with an unnatural fire, which paled under the
+observing glance of the king. “I thank you,” said Moritz, gasping, “I
+will accept it.”
+
+The king nodded. “Au revoir, in Berlin! When I return after the campaign
+I will send for you. You will then have learned to forget your so-called
+misfortune, and smile at your pilgrimage!”
+
+“I cannot think so, sire.”
+
+“I am convinced of it. Farewell.”
+
+Moritz answered the royal salutation with a mute bow, and withdrew with
+drooping head and sorrowful heart. The king continued to regard him with
+an expression of deep sadness. “Ah!” he sighed, “how enviable are those
+who can still believe in love’s illusion, and who have not awakened from
+their dream of bliss by sad experience or age! How long since I have
+banished these dreams--how long I--”
+
+The king ceased, his head sank back upon his chair, his large, fiery
+eyes, peering into the distance, as if he would re-people it with
+the memories of youth, with the delusions from which he had so long
+awakened. Those lovely, charming forms flitted before him one by one
+which had then captivated him: the beautiful Frau von Wrechem, his
+first love, and to whom he had vowed eternal constancy; another sweet,
+innocent face that suffered shame and degradation for him--“oh! Doris,
+Doris, dream of my youth, fly past!”--and now the face with the large
+eyes and energetic features, which turned so tenderly to him, that
+of his sister Frederika, who from affection to the crown prince had
+sacrificed herself to an unloved husband in order to reconcile the son
+with the father, and preserve for him the inheritance to the throne;
+still another calm and gentle face, with the expression of sorrowful
+resignation in the deep-blue eyes, that of his wife, who had so
+passionately loved him, and had faded away at his side unloved! All
+past--past. A new face arose, the pretty Leontine von Morien, the
+tourbillon of the princely court at Rheinsberg, who pined away in sighs.
+Now passed the sweetest and loveliest of all. The king’s eyes, which
+stared into empty space, now beamed with glad recognition. The heart
+which had grown old and sobered beat with feverish rapidity, and the
+compressed lips whispered, sighing, “Barbarina!” She stood before him in
+her bewitching beauty, with the charming smile upon her ruby lips, and
+passionate love beaming from her flashing eyes. “Oh, Barbarina!” The
+king rose, a cold chill crept over him. He looked around so strangely
+in the desolate, darkened room, as if he could still see this form which
+greeted him with the sad smile and tearful glance. No one was there. He
+was quite alone. Only the feeble echo of far-distant days repeated the
+device of his youth--of his life: “Soffri e taci! Resignation alone has
+remained true to me. But no--there is still another friend, my flute.
+Come, you faithful companion of my life! You have witnessed my sorrows,
+and from you I have nothing to conceal!” He tenderly regarded it, for it
+was long since he had taken it from its case. The sorrows and cares of
+life, the suffering from the gout which raged in his teeth, and sad,
+sobering old age, had caused him to lay it aside, but with the habit of
+affection he carried it everywhere. Frederick felt himself grow young
+again with the souvenirs of former days, and essayed to recall the echo
+of tenderer feelings upon his flute. The music of his heart was hushed,
+the melodious tones of former days would not return. The king laid
+it aside with an impatient movement. “Nothing is lasting in life,” he
+murmured. A flourish of trumpets, a peal of drums announced that the
+regiment was passing which would parade before the king. What are they
+playing, which rouses the lonely king with bright memories and shouts of
+victory? It is the march which his majesty composed after the brilliant
+victory of Hohenfriedberg. The king raised his eyes gratefully to
+heaven, repeating aloud: “There is something lasting in life. Love
+ceases and music dies away, but the good we have accomplished remains.
+The most glorious of earthly rewards is granted to those who have
+achieved great deeds--the mortal becomes immortal--the gods ceding
+to him that which is more elevating than love or happiness--fame. Ye
+trumpets of Hohenfriedberg, ye will still quiver when I am gone, and
+relate to succeeding generations about ‘Old Fritz.’ Such tales are well
+worthy to live and suffer for! I am coming, ye trumpets of fame.” With
+youthful activity and beaming face the king went out to receive his
+generals, who saluted him with silent reverence, and his soldiers, who
+greeted their beloved commander and king with an exultant shout.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. IN WEIMAR.
+
+
+“There lies dear Weimar, encircled in its wreath of green. Do you not
+see it, Wolf? I will refresh my heart with its view; so halt, postilion,
+halt,” cried the duke. “It is more beautiful to me than stately, proud
+Berlin. Though a poor, gray nest, I could press it to my heart, with all
+its untidy little houses, and tedious old pedants. Let us walk down the
+hill, Wolf.”
+
+“Most willingly,” cried Goethe, stretching forth his arms to the little
+town, nestled in the peaceful valley, “be welcome, you lovely paradise,
+with your angels and serpents; we press on toward you with all our heart
+and soul, as to the seven-sealed book, filled with mysteries, and we
+would draw glorious revelations from your hidden contents.”
+
+“And grant, ye gods, that the inspired one may at last break the seal
+which a cruel friend has placed upon her lips, that he may not drink the
+kiss of love glowing beneath,” said the duke, smiling. “Do you not see
+the gray roof yonder, with its background of tall trees, that--”
+
+“The house where dwells my beloved, my dearest friend, my sister, and
+the mistress of my heart,” interrupted Goethe. “She is all this, for she
+is my all in all. The fountains of bliss and love which here and there I
+have drawn from, refreshing my heart and occupying my mind, flow toward
+her, united in one broad, silvery stream, with heaven and earth mirrored
+therein, and revealing wonderful secrets in its rushing waves.”
+
+“Ah, Wolf!” cried the duke, “you are a happy, enviable creature, free
+and unfettered, sending your love where it pleases you. My dear Wolf, I
+advise you never to marry, for--”
+
+Goethe hastily closed the duke’s mouth with his hand. “Hush! not a
+word against the noble Duchess Louisa, my master and friend. She is an
+example of refined, womanly dignity; and you, Charles, are to be envied
+the love of so estimable a wife and sweet mother for your children.”
+
+“Indeed I am,” cried the duke, enthusiastically. “I could not have found
+a more high-minded, lovely wife, or a more excellent, virtuous mother
+for my descendants. But you know, Wolf, that your Charles has still
+another heart, very susceptible and tender, which seeks for an affinity
+to call its own, and vent itself in the pleasures of youth, in glorious
+flirtations, melancholy signs, and blissful longings. You cannot expect
+me at twenty-two to play the grandfather, and have no eyes or heart
+for other captivating women, though I love my young wife most
+affectionately, and bless Fate that I am bound with silken cords to
+Hymen’s cart--though I am forever bound, and you, Wolf, are happily
+free!”
+
+“Because grim Fate refuses to unite me to my beloved. Oh, Charlotte, if
+you were free, how blessed would I be, enchained by you! Not to ‘Hymen’s
+cart,’ as the fortunate mocker says, but to the chariot of Venus, drawn
+by doves, enthroned upon which you would bear me to heaven!”
+
+“Do not blaspheme, Wolf,” cried the duke; “rather kneel and thank the
+gods that you are not fettered and your wings clipped. They wish to
+preserve to you love’s delusion, because you are a favorite, and deny
+you the object adored. Beware of the institution which the French
+actress, Sophie Arnould, has so wittily called the ‘consecration
+of adultery.’ You will agree with me that we have many such little
+sacraments in our dear Weimar, and I must laugh when I reflect for what
+purpose those amiable beauties have married, as not one of them love
+their husbands, but they all possess a friend besides.”
+
+“The human heart is a strange thing,” said Goethe, as they descended the
+hill, arm in arm, “and above all a woman’s heart! It is a sacred
+riddle, which God has given Himself to solve, and that only a God could
+unravel!”
+
+At this instant a flash of lightning, followed by heavy-rolling thunder,
+was heard.
+
+“Hear, Wolf--only hear!” laughed Charles--“God in heaven responds, and
+confirms your statement.”
+
+“Or punishes me for my bold speech,” cried Goethe, as the hailstones
+rattled around him hitting his face with their sharp points. “Heaven is
+whipping me with rods.”
+
+“And our carriage has descended with a quick trot into the valley,”
+ said the duke. “I will call it.” He sprang into the middle of the road,
+making a speaking-trumpet of his hands, and shouted in a full, powerful
+voice, “Oho, postilion! here, postilion!”
+
+The continued rolling of the thunder, the whistling wind, and rattling
+hail, made all attempts inaudible. The two gentlemen sought shelter
+under the thick crowns of the oak-trees by the wayside, which formed an
+impenetrable roof to the flood of rain.
+
+“I know nothing more sublime than a thunder-storm,” said Goethe, looking
+up as if inspired; “when the thunder rolls in such awful majesty and
+wrath, it seems as if I heard Prometheus in angry dispute with the gods.
+In the dark clouds I see the Titan, enveloped in mist, overspreading the
+heavens, and raising his giant-arm to hurl his mighty wrath.” At this
+instant a flash of lightning, followed by a deafening peal reverberated
+in one prolonged echo through the hills.
+
+“Do you not hear him, Charles?” cried Goethe, delighted--“hear all the
+voices of earth united in the grumbling thunder of his wrath? See, there
+he stands, yonder in heaven--his form dark as midnight. I hear it--he
+calls--Overshadow the heavens, O Jupiter, With thy vaporous clouds!
+Cut off the oak and mountain-tops As a boy plucks the thistle. Leave me
+earth and my cabin Which thou hast not built, And my hearth-side,
+The glow of which thou enviest me! I know naught so miserable As you
+gods--you--”
+
+Again the mighty peal silenced Goethe, who looked to heaven with
+defiance flashing from his eyes and his clinched hand upraised, as if he
+were Prometheus himself menacing the gods.
+
+“Proceed, Wolf,” cried the duke, as the echo died away. “How can you,
+yourself a god, be so excited with the anger of like beings? Proceed!”
+
+The uplifted arm of the poet sank at his side, and the fiery glance was
+softened. “No human word is capable of expressing what Prometheus just
+spoke in thunder,” said Goethe, musingly, “and I humbly feel how weak
+and insignificant we are, and how great we think ourselves, while our
+voice is like the humming beetle in comparison to this voice from the
+clouds.”
+
+“Be not desponding, Wolf, your own will ring throughout Europe; every
+ear will listen and every heart will comprehend, and centuries later it
+will delight with its freshness and beauty. The storm passes and dies
+away, but the poet lives in his heavenly melodies through all time. You
+must finish ‘Prometheus’ for me, Wolf. I cannot permit you to leave it
+as a fragment. I will have it in black and white, to refresh myself
+in its beauty bright. A spark of your divine talent is infused into my
+soul, and I begin to rhyme. Ah, Wolf, all that is elevated within me I
+owe to you, and I bless Fate for according you to me.”
+
+“And I also, dear Charles,” said Goethe, feelingly. “For, fostered and
+protected by your noble mind and nature, my inmost thoughts develop and
+blossom. We give and receive daily from each other, and so mingle the
+roots of our being that, God willing, we will become two beautiful
+trees, like the oak which now arches over us. But see, the rain is fast
+ceasing, and the sun looks out by the clinched hand of Prometheus. We
+can now travel on to the loved spot.”
+
+“Oh, Wolf, are you in love? None but a lover could say the rain has
+ceased, when it pours down so that we should be drenched before we could
+arrive at Weimar. But hark! I hear a carriage in the distance; we may be
+favored with a shelter.”
+
+The duke stepped out from under the trees, and looked along the highway
+with his sharp hunter’s eye. “A vehicle approaches, but no chance for
+us, as it appears to be a farm-wagon, crowded with men and women.”
+
+“Indeed it does,” said Goethe, joining him; “a very merry company they
+are too, singing gayly. Now, grant the rain rain has ceased--”
+
+“Charlotte von Stein is at Weimar,” interrupted the duke. “Give me your
+arm, and we will walk on.”
+
+They advanced briskly arm in arm. A stranger meeting them would have
+supposed that they were brothers, so much alike were they in form,
+manners, and dress, for the duke as well as Goethe wore the Werther
+costume.
+
+As they descended, the carriage came nearer and nearer. The duke’s keen
+eye had not been deceived. It was a farm-wagon, filled with a frolicsome
+party, sitting on bags of straw for cushions. They were chatting and
+laughing absorbed in fun, and did not observe the two foot-passengers,
+who turned aside from them. A sudden cry of surprise hushed the
+conversation; a form rose, half man and half woman, enveloped in a man’s
+coat of green baize, crowned with a neat little hat of a woman. “Oh, it
+is Charles!” cried the form, and at the same instant the duke sprang to
+the wagon. “Is it possible, my dear mother?”
+
+“The Duchess Amelia!” cried Goethe, astonished.
+
+“Yes,” laughed the duchess, greeting them with an affectionate look.
+“The proverb proves itself--‘Like mother, like son.’ On the highway
+mother and son have met. You should have done the honors in a stately
+equipage.”
+
+“May I be permitted to ask where you come from?” asked the duke. “And
+the dress, of what order do you wear?”
+
+“We walked to Ziefurt, and intended to walk back. Thusnelda is so
+delicate and weak, that she complained of her fairy feet paining her,”
+ answered the duchess, laughing.
+
+“Ah, duchess, must I always be the butt?” cried the lady behind the
+duchess, crouching between the straw-sacks. “Must I permit you to follow
+in my footsteps, while I--”
+
+“Hush, Goechhausen--hush, sweet Philomel,” interrupted the duke, “or the
+Delphic riddle of this costume will be apparent.”
+
+“It is easily explained,” said the duchess. “No other conveyance was
+to be had, and my good Wieland gave me his green overcoat to protect me
+from the pouring rain.” [Footnote: True anecdote.--See Lewes’ “Goethe’s
+Life and Writings,” vol. 1., p. 406.]
+
+“And from to-day forth it will be a precious palladium,” cried the
+little man with a mild, happy face on the straw by the duchess.
+
+“And there is Knebel too,” shouted the duke to the gentleman who just
+then pulled the wet hood of his cloak over his powdered hair.
+
+“Our treasurer Bertuch, Count Werther, and Baron von Einsiedel also.”
+
+“Does not your highness ask after our bewitching countess?” asked
+Goechhausen, in her fine, sharp voice. “The countess is quite ill--is
+she not, Count Werther?”
+
+“I believe so, they say so,” answered the count, rather absent-minded.
+“I have not seen her for some days.”
+
+“What is the matter?” asked the duke, as Goethe was engaged in a lively
+conversation with the duchess. “Is the dear countess dangerously ill?”
+
+“Oh, no,” answered Goechhausen, “not very ill, only in love with genius,
+a malady which has attacked us all more or less since that mad fellow
+Wolfgang Goethe has raged in Weimar, and made it a place of torment to
+honorable people. Oh, Goethe--oh, Wolf! with what lamb-like innocence we
+wandered in comfortable sheep’s clothing until you came and fleeced us,
+and infected us with your ‘Sturm und Dranger’ malady, and made us fall
+in love with your works!”
+
+“Goechhausen, hold your malicious tongue, and do not hide your own joy
+beneath jest and mockery,” cried the duchess. “Acknowledge that you
+are rejoiced to see your favorite, and that you will hasten to write to
+Madam Aja, ‘Our dear duke has returned, and my angel, my idol, Wolfgang,
+also.’ I assure you, Goethe, Thusnelda loves you, and was exceedingly
+melancholy during your absence. If asked the cause of her sadness, she
+wept like--”
+
+“Like a crocodile,” said the duke. “Oh, I know those tears of Fraulein
+Goechhausen; I could relate stories of her crocodile nature. Mother, how
+can you have such a monster in your society? Why not make the cornes,
+that the little devils may fly away?”
+
+“Very good,” cried the little, crooked lady. “I see your highness has
+not changed by this journey. Where have you been, dear duke? Oh, I
+remember; you flew over the Rhine, and have flown home again quite
+unchanged.”
+
+All laughed, the duke louder than any one. “Goechhausen, you are a
+glorious creature, and the Arminius is to be envied who appropriates
+this Thusnelda. Oh, I see the charming youth before me, who has the
+courage to make this German wife his own!”
+
+“I will scratch his eyes out?” cried Goechhausen, “and then the Countess
+Werther can play Antigone, and lead him around as Oedipus. Why shut your
+eyes, Einsiedel? I do not scratch quite yet.”
+
+“I was not thinking of that,” said the baron, astonished.
+
+“You never think that every one knows; but did you not do it so soon
+as you understood the Countess Werther should lead blind Oedipus as
+Antigone?”
+
+Before the count could answer, the court lady turned again to the duke.
+“What did your highness bring me? I hope you have not forgotten that you
+promised me a handsome present.”
+
+“No, I have not forgotten it; I have brought my Thusnelda a
+souvenir--such a gift!”
+
+“What is it, your highness?”
+
+“A surprise which, if Thusnelda is clever, she must think about all
+night.--But, Goethe, is it not time to leave the ladies?”
+
+“Wait, I command you both,” said the Duchess Amelia, extending her hand
+to her son, who pressed it to his lips most affectionately. “I
+have given out invitations for a soiree, for this evening. My
+daughter-in-law, the Duchess Louisa, has accepted, duke, and Frau von
+Stein also, Goethe. I hope to see you at Belvedere, gentlemen. The poet
+Gleim is in town, and will read his late ‘Muse Almanach.’ May I not
+expect both of you?”
+
+They joyfully consented, gazing after the merry society as it drove
+away. “This is a good bite for the poisonous tongues of the honorable,”
+ cried the duke. “My mother in a farm-wagon, with Wieland’s green
+overcoat on, and the reigning duke, with his Goethe, entering his
+capital on foot like a journeyman mechanic, after a long journey!”
+
+“I wish we were there, my dearest friend,” sighed Goethe.
+
+“Oh, love makes you impatient! Come on, then. But listen, we must play
+Gochhausen a trick; I have promised her a surprise. Will you help me,
+Wolf?”
+
+“With pleasure, duke.”
+
+“I have thought of something very droll, and your servant Philip must
+help us; he is a clever fellow, and can keep his own counsel.”
+
+“He is silent as the grave, duke.”
+
+“That is necessary for such a gentleman as the women all run after. Let
+us skip down the mountain, and then forward where our hearts incline us.
+This afternoon I will go for you and bring you to Belvedere, and then
+we can talk over the surprise.” They ran down the declivity into the
+suburb, to the terror of the good people, who looked after them,
+saying that the young duke had returned with his mad protege. The “mad
+favorite” seemed more crazy than ever to-day, for after a brief farewell
+to the duke, he bounded through the streets across the English park, to
+the loved house, the roof of which he had so longingly greeted from the
+hillside. The door stood open, as is customary in small towns, and the
+servant in the vestibule came to meet him, and respectfully announced
+that her master had gone to his estate at Hochberg, but that Frau von
+Stein was most probably in the pavilion, in the garden, as she had
+gone thither with her guitar. “Is she alone?” asked Goethe. The
+servant answered in the affirmative, and through the court hastened the
+lover--not through the principal entrance, as he would surprise her, and
+read in her sweet face whether she thought of him. Softly he opened the
+little garden gate, and approached the pavilion by a side-alley. Do his
+feet touch the ground, or float over it? He knew not; he heard music,
+accompanied by a sweet, melodious voice. It was Charlotte’s. Goethe’s
+face beamed with delight and happiness. He gazed at her unseen, not
+alone with his eyes, but heart and soul went forth to her. She sat
+sideways to the door; upon a table lay her notes, and the guitar rested
+upon her arm. She sang, in a rich, sweet voice, Reinhardt’s beautiful
+melody:
+
+“I’d rather fight my way through sorrows Than bear so many joys in
+life; All this affinity of heart to heart, How strangely it causes us to
+suffer!”
+
+She ceased, as if overpowered with her own thoughts, the guitar sank
+upon her lap, and her fingers glided over the chords, so that the tones
+died away imperceptibly. Her deep-blue eyes gazed pensively in the
+distance, and the sweet lips repeated softly, “How strangely it causes
+us to suffer!” Near the garden entrance, through which the odor of sweet
+flowers and the song of birds was wafted with every gentle zephyr, stood
+Goethe, looking at the woman whom he had so passionately loved for three
+years, so absorbingly, that to her were consecrated all his thoughts.
+
+He could contain himself no longer; he rushed forward and threw himself
+at her feet. “Oh, Charlotte, I love you, only you, and once more I am by
+your side!”
+
+A shriek! was it a cry of surprise or delight? Who let the guitar fall
+to the floor, he or she? Who embraced the other in affectionate haste,
+he or she? Who pressed the lips so lovingly to the other lips, he or
+she? And who said, “I love you? What bliss to again repose in your
+affection, I would fain die now. In this moment a whole life has been
+consecrated, for love has revealed to us our other self.”
+
+She sat upon the tabouret, and Goethe still knelt before her,
+clasping her feet and pressing them to his bosom. His eyes beamed with
+inexpressible delight as he regarded the face, usually so calm and
+indifferent--today glowing as sunrise.
+
+“Oh, tell me, Charlotte, have you thought of me? But rather speak to me
+with your eyes, and may they be more than the cruel lips which refuse to
+confess. Oh, shade not those loved orbs, which are my stars shining upon
+me, whithersoever I wander. They are my light, my spring-time, and my
+love. They will never cease to beam upon me, as light and love never
+grow old. Let me read eternal youth in those eyes, and the secrets which
+rest as pearls in the depths of your heart. Only tell me, is the pearl
+of love to be found there, and is it mine?”
+
+“It would be a misfortune if it were there,” she whispered, with a sweet
+smile. “Pearls are the result of a malady, and my heart would be ill if
+the pearl of love were found there. No, no, rise, Wolf, dear Wolf,
+we have given away at the first moment of meeting; let us now be
+reasonable, and speak in a dignified manner with each other, as it
+becomes a married woman and her friend.”
+
+“Friend?” repeated Goethe, impetuously; “forever must I listen to this
+hated, hypocritical word, which, like a priest’s robe, shall cover the
+sacred glow in my heart? I have told you, Charlotte, that I am not
+your friend, and I never shall be. There is not the least spark of this
+still, calm fire of the earthly moderation in me, by which one could
+cook his potatoes, or his daily vegetables, but by which one could never
+prepare food for the gods, or that which could refresh a poet’s heart or
+quicken his soul. No, in me burns the fire which Prometheus stole from
+the gods, originating in heaven and glowing upon earth. This heavenly
+and earthly love unites in one flame. Again, I say, Charlotte, banish
+this hypocritical word ‘friendship!’ It is only love which I feel for
+you, let this sentiment enter at every avenue of your heart, and do not
+feign ignorance of it, sweet hypocrite. Surprise has torn away the mask!
+The passionate kiss, which still burns upon my lips, was not given by a
+friend or sister; but overcome by joy, the truth has been acknowledged!”
+
+“Do you wish that the kiss of meeting should be that of parting also?”
+ said Charlotte, sadly, as she raised her blue eyes with a languishing
+look to the handsome, ardent face of the man who stood before her.
+“Do you wish to separate forever? I must recall to you our last
+conversation: ‘Only when you are resolved to moderate this impetuous
+manner, and curb this overflow of feeling, which reason and custom
+imposes upon us, shall I be able to receive you and enjoy your
+society.’”
+
+“Yes, with these unmeaning phrases you banished me. Cruel and
+hard-hearted were you to the last. Oh, Charlotte! you know what I
+suffered at our last walk, with your reasoning remonstrances and
+cold-hearted reproaches; they pierced my heart like poisoned arrows. If
+the duke and duchess had not been walking before us, I should have wept
+myself weary. My whole being cried within me: ‘Oh! cruel and inexorable
+woman, to beg of me, who so unutterably loves her, to call her friend
+and sister!’ I repeated the words daily during my absence, and sought
+to clothe your beloved image with meaning. They disfigured you, and the
+angel whom I adore was no longer recognizable. I cannot call you friend
+or sister.”
+
+“Then I can be nothing to you, dear Wolfgang,” sighed Charlotte. “In
+this hour of meeting we will part, and to avoid a chance encounter even,
+I will go to my husband at Kochberg, and remain there the whole summer.”
+
+Goethe seized her, holding her fast in his strong arms, staring her
+in the face with a fierce, angry look. “Are you in earnest? Would you
+really do it?”
+
+“Goethe, I beg you to loosen your hold; you hurt my arms.”
+
+“Do you not also hurt me? With your cold indifference do you not pierce
+my heart with red-hot daggers, and then smile and rejoice at my torture,
+which is a proof to you of my unbounded love? While you only play with
+me, and attach me to your triumphal car, to display to the world that
+you have succeeded in taming the lion, and have changed him into a
+good-natured domestic animal. Go! you do not deserve that I should love
+you, cold-hearted, cruel woman!”
+
+He threw her arms from him, with tears in his eyes. Charlotte von Stein
+regarded him with anger and indifference.
+
+“Farewell, secretary of legation. It seems to please you to insult and
+offend a poor woman, who has no other protection than her honor and
+virtue. Farewell! I will not expose myself to such offences; therefore I
+will retire.”
+
+She turned slowly toward the door, but Goethe bounded forward like a
+tiger, interrupted her path, falling upon his knees, imploring pity and
+begging for pardon. “Oh, Charlotte, I will be gentle as a child, I will
+be reserved, I know that I am a sinner! It is warring against one’s own
+heart to seek comfort in offending what is dearest to it in a moment
+of ill-humor. But I have again become a child, with all my thoughts,
+scarcely recognizable for the moment, quite lost to myself, as I consent
+to the conditions of others with this fire raging within me. Oh, beloved
+Charlotte, forgive me! I submit to all that you wish.” [Footnote:
+Goethe’s words.--See “Letters to Charlotte von Stein,” roll., p. 358.]
+
+“Will you be satisfied to love me as your friend and sister?”
+
+“I will be,” he sighed. “Only in the future you must endeavor to
+persuade yourself into such a sisterly way that you will be indulgent to
+my rudeness, otherwise I shall have to avoid you when I need you most.
+Oh, Charlotte, it seems terrible to me that I should mar through anguish
+the best hours of my life, the blissful moments of meeting with you, for
+whom I would pluck every hair from my head if it would make you happy.
+And yet to be so blind, so hardened! Have pity upon me. Again I promise
+you that I will be reasonable. Do not banish me from your presence.
+Extend to me your hand, and promise me that you will be my friend and
+sister!” [Footnote: Goethe’s words.--See “Letters to Charlotte von
+Stein,” roll., p. 358.]
+
+“Then here is my hand,” said she, with a charming smile.
+
+“I will be your friend and sister, and--”
+
+“What now, my Charlotte? do finish--what is it?”
+
+She laid her hand gently upon his shoulder, and her words fell on his
+ear like soft music. “When my dear friend and much-beloved brother has
+conducted himself very prudently for two or three happy weeks, I will
+send him a ringlet of my hair, which he has so long begged for, and a
+kiss with it.”
+
+Goethe spoke not, but pressed her blushing face to his bosom, and
+laid his hand gently upon her head. A smile of delight--of perfect
+happiness--played around his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. THE READING.
+
+
+This happy smile still beamed upon Goethe’s face as he walked with
+the duke late in the evening toward Belvedere to soiree of the Duchess
+Amelia, who was inspired with a love for the fine arts, and particularly
+literature. The two gentlemen had busily occupied themselves in
+preparing them for the lady of honor, Fraulein von Gochhausen, and,
+although aided by Goethe’s servant, Philip, and workmen, it was late
+when they arrived.
+
+As they entered, the ladies and gentlemen were seated in a large circle
+around the centre-table. At one end sat the Duchesses Amelia and Louisa,
+the mother and wife of Charles Augustus and near the former her friend
+and favorite the poet Wieland, once the tutor of her son the duke. Near
+the poet sat an elderly gentleman of cheerful, good-natured mien, who,
+with the exception of Wieland, was the only one who did not present
+himself, like the duke and Goethe, in Werther costume. He wore a white,
+silver-embroidered coat, with a dark-blue satin vest, and breeches of
+the same, shoes with buckles, and bosom and wrist ruffles of lace.
+
+This gentleman, with the bright, sparkling eyes, and pleasant face, was
+the poet Gleim, who looked very comfortable and stately in the circle
+of powdered perukes. His admiration for Frederick the Great had inspired
+him to write some beautiful military songs, and his love of poetry
+and literature made him an enthusiastic admirer of all those devoted
+themselves to literary pursuits. Besides, he was rich and liberal, and
+it was very natural that the poets, and authors exerted themselves with
+marked assiduity to please Father Gleim. They were gratified to have
+him print their works for a small remuneration in an annual which he
+entitled the “Almanach of the Muses.” He was just reading aloud at the
+duchess’s soiree from the late edition of the almanach, and the society
+listened with earnest and kind attention, occasionally interrupted with
+an enthusiastic “Bravo!” or “Excellent!” from the duchess, followed by
+a murmur of assent around the table, which caused the poet’s face to
+brighten with joy and satisfaction, and him to read on with increased
+energy.
+
+The entrance of the duke and Goethe was unobserved, as it was understood
+that the former wished no notice to be taken of his going or coming, and
+the duchess had also waved her hand, not to interrupt Father Gleim. The
+poet has just finished the new poem of melodious rhythm of imprisoned
+Shubart. As he paused to wipe the perspiration from his brow and sip
+a little raspberry water, a tall, slender young man, in the Werther
+costume, approached, bowing, and regarding the poet so kindly, that the
+glance of his fine black eyes fell like a sunbeam on the heart of the
+old man. “You appear somewhat fatigued, my good sir,” said the unknown,
+in a sweet, sonorous voice. “Will you not permit me to relieve you, and
+read in your stead from this glorious book of yours?”
+
+“Do so, my dear Gleim,” said the Duchess Amelia, smiling, “you seem
+really exhausted; let the young man continue the agreeable and welcome
+entertainment.”
+
+Father Gleim was very well pleased; he handed the book to the young
+stranger with a graceful bow, as the latter seated himself opposite to
+him, and next to Fraulein Gochhausen.
+
+He commenced in a clear, distinct voice. The verses flowed from his lips
+gracefully, and in a cultivated style. The company listened with devoted
+attention, and Father Gleim, the protector of all the young poets,
+sat delighted, nodding consent, with a pleasant smile. It must all be
+charming--it had come into existence under his fostering care. What
+beautiful verses to listen to! “Die Zephyre lauschen, Die Balche
+rauschen, Die Sonus Verbreitet ihr Licht mit Wonne!”
+
+And how charmingly the young man read them! Suddenly Father Gleim
+startled, and the smile died upon his lips. What was it? What was the
+young man reading? Verse which were not in the collection, and which
+were more remarkable than he had ever heard from his young poets. “Those
+are not in the Annual,” cried Gleim, quite forgetting decorum,--“that--”
+
+One glance from the fine black eyes of the young man so confounded
+Father Gleim, that he ceased in the midst of a sentence, and, staring
+in breathless astonishment, listened. Glorious thoughts were expressed
+therein, and the poets of the Muse Almanach might have thanked God if
+the like had occurred to them. Love was not the burden of the song;
+neither hearts, griefs, nor bliss, but satire, lashing right and left
+with graceful dexterity, and dealing a harmless thrust to every one. All
+were forced to laugh; the happy faces animated and inspired every thing.
+The brilliant satirical verses rushed like rockets from the lips of the
+reader--a real illumination of wit and humor, of good-natured jokes and
+biting sarcasm, and it delighted the old man that every one had received
+hits and thrusts but himself; he had been spared until now! Every one
+regarded him, smiling and amused, as the reader exalted the merits of
+the Maecenas, and praised him highly for the interest he took in the
+poet’s heart, soul, and purse, and shouted victory when one excelled.
+But suddenly the good father also changed, and, instead of the patron
+on the right throne, there was a turkey-cock on the round nest, which
+zealously sought to hatch out the many eggs that he had to take care of
+for others besides his own; he sat brooding untiringly, and shed many
+a tear of joy over the fine number of eggs, yet it happened that a
+poetical viper had put but under him one of chalk, which he cared for
+with the others.
+
+Herr Gleim could no longer contain himself, and, striking the table, he
+cried, “That is either Goethe or the devil!” The entire company burst
+into uncontrollable laughter, and the old man shouted the second time,
+though inwardly angry, “It is either Goethe or the devil!”
+
+“Both, dear Father Gleim,” said Wieland, who was drying his tears from
+laughter, “it is Goethe, and he has the devil in him to-day. He is like
+a wild colt, which kicks out behind and before, and it would be well not
+to approach him too near.” [Footnote: Wieland’s own words.--See Lewes’
+“Life of Goethe,” vol. i., p. 432.]
+
+Goethe alone retained his composure, and continued reading in a louder
+voice, which hushed all conversation. He lashed with bitter sarcasm “him
+who assumed to be a god--a wise man--and who counted for nothing better
+than a pretentious, saucy fellow, who made himself the scorn of
+the poets by his sweet, Werther-like sighs, and other worthless
+lamentations, heeding neither God nor the devil!”
+
+And so he stormed and thundered, ridiculed and slandered his own flesh
+and blood, until Goechhausen, red with anger, rose and snatched the book
+from his hand, and closed his lips with her hand, crying: “If you do
+not cease, Goethe, I will write to your beloved mother, Frau Aja, that
+a satirist, a calumniator has had the impudence to defame and slur her
+beloved son in a most sinful and shameful manner! I will write to her,
+indeed, if you do not stop!”
+
+Goethe rose, and bowing offered his hand to Father Gleim in such a
+friendly, affectionate manner, that the old man, quite delighted,
+thanked him heartily for the pleasure and surprise which he had afforded
+him.
+
+The duke, however, seated himself by the little lady of honor.
+“Thusnelda, you are an incomparable creature, and quite calculated to
+be the ancestress of all the Germans. I declare myself your cavalier for
+the evening, and will devote myself to you as your most humble servant,
+and will not quit your side for a moment.”
+
+“Very beautiful it will be, my dear duke, a most charming idyl; in true
+Watteau style, I will be the sweet shepherdess, and lead your highness
+by a little ribbon. But where is my present--my surprise?”
+
+“You must not be impatient, Thusnelda, but wait what time will produce.
+You will have it; if not to-day, to-morrow. Every day brings its own
+care and sorrow.”
+
+“Ah, duke, instead of giving me my surprise, you beat me with doggerels.
+That comes from having a Goethe for companion and friend. Crazy tricks,
+like chicken-pox, are contagious, and the latter you have caught,
+duke. It is a new kind of genius distemper. Very fortunately, our dear
+Countess Werther has another malady, or she might be infected. Perhaps
+she has it already, Count Werther--how is it?’
+
+“I do not know, Fraulein,” replied the count, startled from reverie. “I
+really do not know! My wife is quite ill, for that reason has gone to
+our estate to recover her peace and quiet. It is unfortunately quite
+impossible for me to visit her there; but my dear, faithful friend,
+Baron von Einsiedel, will drive over to-morrow at my request, my
+commission--”
+
+“To set the fox to keep the geese,” interrupted Thusnelda in her lively
+manner.
+
+“No, not that, Fraulein,” said Count Werther, quite confused, as the
+duke burst into a merry laugh, calling Thusnelda a witty Kobold, and as
+her faithful Celadon offered her his arm to conduct her to his mother,
+the Duchess Amelia.
+
+The company were all in a very happy frame of mind. Goethe’s charming
+impromptu had kindled wit and humor upon every lip. He himself was the
+happiest of all, for Charlotte was by his side, gazing upon him with her
+large, thoughtful eyes, and permitting him to be her cavalier for the
+evening.
+
+The duke also devoted himself to Fraulein von Goechhausen, who was this
+evening unsurpassably witty and caustic, delighting him, and making the
+Duchess Amelia laugh, and the Duchess Louisa sometimes to slightly shrug
+her shoulders and shake her head with disapproval.
+
+In the midst of a most interesting conversation with Frau von Stein,
+Goethe was informed that some one awaited him in the anteroom. He went
+out quickly, and upon returning he whispered to the duke, who nodded,
+and answered him in a low tone, and then Goethe betook himself to the
+Duchess Amelia.
+
+“What is it?” the latter asked. “Have important dispatches arrived?”
+
+“No; I come to your highness as courier from your son. The duke begs
+that you will lock the door of your anteroom when you retire, and that
+you will upon no condition open it, no matter how much Thusnelda may beg
+and implore.”
+
+“Will you not injure my poor Goechhausen, you wanton fellow?”
+
+“No! it is not very dangerous, duchess. It is only a harmless surprise,
+which the duke promised Fraulein von Goechhausen.”
+
+“Very well, then, it can take place; I promise to be quite deaf to all
+Thusnelda’s knocking and thumping, and I shall be glad to be informed
+to-morrow what the trick is. I prefer not to inquire to-day, as I might
+feel obliged to veto it if it were too severe. But look, the Duchess
+Louisa will break up; does she know any thing about the affair?”
+
+“No, your highness, you know very well that the young duchess--”
+
+“Is much more sensible than the old one, and shakes her head
+disapprovingly when she hears of your ingenuous tricks. Perhaps it would
+be well if I were equally sensible, but there is no help for it. I like
+bright, happy people, and I think when youth vents itself, old age is
+more sedate and reasonable.”
+
+“You are quite right, duchess. Mankind resembles new wine. If the must
+does not ferment and foam well, no good wine will come of it. But
+look at our Charles, with the saucy jest upon his lip, and the fire of
+inspiration in those bright brown eyes. One day a fine, strong wine will
+clear itself from this glorious fermenting must.”
+
+“I hope so, Goethe, and if the gods grant it, the great merit will
+belong to you, who have proved yourself a good vintager, and we will
+rejoice together in your glorious success.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. WITCHCRAFT
+
+
+An hour later the palace Belvedere was silent and deserted; the guests
+had taken their departure. The duchess had her suite and commanded them
+to retire. Fraulein von Gochhausen alone remained with her mistress,
+chatting by the bedside, and recapitulating in her amusing style all
+important and unimportant events of the soiree, The duchess smiled at
+the mischievous remarks with which she ornamented her relation, and at
+her keen, individualizing of persons.
+
+“Fraulein Gochhausen, you are the most wicked and the merriest
+mocking-bird God ever created,” cried the duchess, “Have done with your
+scandals, go up to your room, piously say your evening prayers, and
+stretch yourself upon your maiden bed.”
+
+“Soon, duchess; only one thing more have I to call your attention to.
+There is a gossip afloat about the Werthers. I perceive it in the air,
+as the dove scents the vulture.”
+
+“You alarm me, Gochhausen; what good is it? You do not mean that the
+lovely Countess Werther--”
+
+“Is not only very weary of her husband, but looks about for a
+substitute--a friend, as the ingenious ladies now call him. That is
+what I mean, and I know the so-called friend which the sweet sentimental
+countess has chosen.”
+
+“It is the Baron von Einsiedel, is it not?” asked the duchess. “That is
+to say, his younger brother, the gay lieutenant, not our good friend par
+excellence.
+
+“Yes, I mean the brother, and I have warned and taunted the count this
+week past, but it is impossible to awake him from his stupidity and
+thoughtlessness.”
+
+“Again you are giving loose reins to your naughty tongue, Thusnelda.
+Count Werther is a thoroughly scholarly person, whom I often envy his
+knowledge of the languages. He has studied Sanscrit and the cuneated
+letters, among other ancient tongues.”
+
+“It may be that he understands the dead languages, but the living ones
+not in the least. The language of the eyes and inspiration he is blind
+to, with seeing eyes! My dear duchess, if you are not watchful, and
+prevent the affair with timely interference, a scandal will grow out
+of it, and you know well that it would be a welcome opportunity for our
+Weimar Philistines (as the Jena students call commonplace gossips) to
+cry ‘Murder,’ and howl about the immoral example of geniuses, which
+Wolfgang Goethe has introduced at court.”
+
+“You are right,” said the duchess, musingly; “your apt tongue and keen
+eye are ever carefully watching, like a good shepherd-dog, that none of
+the sheep go astray and are lost. And you do not mind attacking this or
+that one in the leg with your sharp teeth!”
+
+“Let those scream who are unjustly bitten, your highness! Believe me,
+the countess will not cry out; she will much more likely take care
+not to receive a well-merited rebuke. I beg your grace to prevent the
+gossip! Not on account of this silly, sentimental young woman, or her
+pedantic husband, but that our young duke and Goethe may not be exposed
+to scandal, as well as your highness.”
+
+“You are right--we must take care to prevent it. Has not the countess
+been absent at her estate four days?”
+
+“Yes, your highness, it is just this that troubles me. She went away as
+sound as a fish, and has suddenly fallen very ill. No physician has been
+called, but, to-morrow, the count will commission his dear friend
+the baron to drive to his country-seat, and bring him tidings of his
+better-half.”
+
+“We must circumvent this. In the morning we will arrange a
+pleasure-drive, of the whole court, to the country-seat of Count
+Werther. It shall be a surprise. Let Fourier give out the invitations
+early to-morrow, for a country party, destination unknown. The
+distribution of the couples in the carriages shall be decided by lot.
+Take care that Lieutenant Einsiedel is your cavalier, so that when we
+arrive at the little Werther, he will already be appropriated, and then
+we will induce her to return with us and spend some time at Belvedere.
+Now, good-night, Thusnelda; I am very tired and need repose. Sleep
+already weighs upon my eyelids, and will close them as soon as you are
+gone. Good-night, my child--sleep well!”
+
+The little deformed court lady kissed the extended hand, the
+candlestick, with only a stump of a taper in it, and withdrew from
+the princely sleeping-room, courtesying, and wishing her mistress
+good-night, with pleasant dreams.
+
+The anteroom was dark and deserted. The lights were all extinguished,
+and Fraulein Goechhausen was, in truth, the only person who had not long
+since retired in the ducal palace. She was accustomed to be the last,
+accustomed to traverse the long, lonely corridors, and mount two flights
+of stairs to her bedroom upon the third story. The gay duchess, being
+very fond of society, had had the second story arranged guest-chambers
+and drawing-rooms.
+
+Why should the little court lady be afraid to-night? She had not thought
+of it, but stepped forward briskly to mount the stairs. It was surely
+very disagreeable for the wind to extinguish her lamp at that instant,
+just at the turning of stairs, and she could not account for it, as none
+of the windows were open, and there was no trace of a draft. However,
+it was an undeniable fact, the light was out and she was in total
+darkness--not even a star was to be seen in the clouded sky. It was,
+indeed, true that Thusnelda was so accustomed to the way that it
+mattered little whether she had a light or not. Now she had reached the
+corridor and she could not fail to find the door, as there was but
+one, that of her own room. She stretched out her hand to open it, but,
+strange to say, she missed the knob! Then she was sure that it was
+farther on; she felt along the wall, but still it eluded her grasp. It
+was unheard of--no handle and not a door even to be found! The wall was
+bare and smooth, and papered the entire length. A slight shudder crept
+over the courageous little woman’s heart, and she could not explain to
+herself what it all meant. She called her maid, but no answer--not
+a sound interrupted the stillness! “I will go down to the duchess,”
+ murmured Thusnelda; “perhaps she is awake, and then I can re-light my
+taper!”
+
+The door was fastened; the duchess had locked the ante-room to-night for
+the first time.
+
+Thusnelda tapped lightly, and begged an entrance humbly and imploringly.
+No answer, every thing was quiet. She recalled that the duchess had told
+her that she was very weary, and would sleep as soon as she was alone,
+which she undoubtedly had done.
+
+Thusnelda did not presume to awake her by knocking louder. She would
+be patient, and mount again to her room. Surely she must have made a
+mistake, and turned to the left of the corridor, where there was no
+door, instead of the right, as she ought to have done. It must be that
+it was her fault. She groped along the dark flights of stairs to the
+upper gallery, carefully seeking the right this time, but in vain. Again
+she felt only the smooth wall. Terrified, she knew not whether she was
+awake or dreaming, or whether she might not be in an enchanted castle,
+or walking in her sleep in a strange house. Just here she ought to find
+her room and the maid awaiting her, but it was lonely, deserted, and
+strange--no door, no maid. Thusnelda, with trembling hands smoothed her
+face, pulled first her nose, and then her hair, to identify herself.
+“Is it I?” she said. “Am I, indeed, myself? Am I awake? I know that I am
+lady of honor to the Duchess Amelia, and that upon the upper story is my
+room. Do not be foolish, and imagine that witchcraft comes to pass; the
+door is there, and it can be found.” Thusnelda renewed her search with
+out-spread arms and wide-spread fingers, feeling first this side of the
+wall and then the other.
+
+By daylight the deformed little lady of honor must have been a very
+droll figure, in full toilet, dancing along the wall as if suspended
+by her outstretched hands. Oh, it was quite vain to seek any longer. It
+must be enchantment, and the door had disappeared. An indefinable dream
+crept over Thusnelda, and she was cast down. For the first time a jest
+failed her trembling lips, and she wept with anguish. Yes, she, the
+keen, mordant, jesting little woman, prayed and implored her Maker
+to unloose her from the enchantment, and permit her to find the
+long-sought-for entrance. But praying was in vain, the door was not to
+be found, it was witch craft, and she must submit to it. The rustling
+and moving her arms frightened her now, and when she walked the darkness
+prevented her seeing if any one followed her; so she crouched upon
+the floor, yielding to the unavoidable necessity passing the night
+there--the night of enchantment and witchery.[Footnote: See Lewes’ “Life
+and Writings of Goethe,” vol. 1., p. 408.]
+
+Not alone for Fraulein Goechhausen was this beautiful May-night of
+sad experience with witches. There were other places at Weimar. In the
+neighborhood of the ducal park, in the midst of green-meadows, stood a
+simple little cottage. Near it flowed the Ilm, spanned by three bridges,
+all closed by gates, so that no one could reach the cottage without the
+occupant’s consent. It was as secure as a fortress or an island of the
+sea, and distinctly visible even in the night, its white walls rising
+against the dark perspective of the park. This is the poet’s Eldorado,
+his paradise, presented to Wolfgang Goethe by his friend the Duke
+Charles Augustus. It was late as the possessor wound his way toward his
+Tusculum, as he familiarly called it, and, more attracted by the aspect
+of the heavens than by sleep, sought the balcony, to gaze at the dark
+mass of clouds chasing each other like armies in retreat and pursuit;
+one moment veiling the moon, at another revealing her full disk, and
+soon again covering the earth with dark shadows, until the lightning
+flashed down in snaky windings, making the darkness momentarily visible
+with her lurid glare. It was a glorious spectacle for the intuitive,
+sympathetic soul of the poet, and he yielded to its influence with
+delight. He heard the voice of God in the rolling of the thunder, and
+sought to comprehend the unutterable, and understand it in this poetical
+sense. Voices spake to him in the rushing of the storm, the sighing of
+the trees, and the rustling of the foliage. The storm passed quickly, a
+profound quiet and solemnity spread out over the nightly world, and it
+lay as if in repose, smiling in blissful dreams. The air was filled
+with perfumes, wafted to the balcony upon which dreamed the poet with
+unclosed eyelids and waking thoughts. The clouds were all dispersed;
+full and clear was suspended the moon in the deep, blue vault, where
+twinkled thousands of stars, whispering of unknown worlds, and the
+mysteries of Nature, and the greatness of Him who created them all.
+
+“Oh, beloved, golden moon, how calmly you look down upon me, sublime and
+lovely at the same time! When I gaze at you, moving so quietly, floating
+in infinity, and contemplating reflect thyself in finiteness, I think of
+you, oh Charlotte, who stands above me like the moon so bright and mild,
+and I envelop myself in your rays, and my spirit becomes heavenly in
+your light.
+
+     Mir ist es, denk ich nur an Dich,
+     Als in den Mond zu seh’n,
+     Ein suesser Friede weht um mich,
+     Weiss nicht, wie mir gescheh’n!
+
+“Yes, like sweet peace, and quiet, sacred moonlight, my thoughts shall
+be of you, Charlotte; not like the glowing rays of the sun, or the cold
+light of the stars. Bright and beaming like the moon you are to me,
+spreading around me your soft light. Oh, beautiful golden moon, mirrored
+in the water, you lie as in a silvery bath, and would entice me to seek
+you in the murmuring depths. Hark! how the ruffled waves of the Ilm
+with repeated gentle caresses kiss the shore, rush from thence in golden
+links down the river! Sweet of the Ilm, I come, I come!”
+
+Goethe hastened from the balcony, threw aside his apparel, plunged into
+the silvery flood, shouting with joy.
+
+What heavenly pleasure to float there, rocked by the murmuring waves,
+gazing at the silvery stars and the golden moon, a lovely May night,
+listening to the voices of Nature! Add to that the perfume-laden breeze
+rising from the rain-refreshed meadows. How glorious to plunge into the
+cool stream, splashing and dashing the water, and then to shoot like
+a fish through the drops falling like golden rain! Suddenly, while
+swimming, Goethe raised his head to listen. He thought he heard
+footsteps on the poet’s forbidden bridge. The moon distinctly revealed a
+peasant from Oberweimar, who would be early to the weekly market, and so
+serve himself to the shortest route while no one could see him.
+
+“Such presumption deserves punishment, my good peasant, and if there is
+no one else to do it the ghosts must.”
+
+Listen, what a savage yell from under the bridge, and then another more
+unearthly!
+
+The peasant, frightened, stopped suddenly, and looked down into the
+river. “Oh, what can it be?”
+
+A glistening white arm is raised menacingly toward the bridge. A white
+figure, with a black head and long black hair, is seen plunging
+and splashing, while fearful yells are heard from the deep. Then it
+disappeared, to return, and menace, and yell, and plunge again.
+
+The peasant shrieked with terror, and was answered with a cruel laugh.
+The white figure sank and rose from the river screeching and yelling,
+and the peasant shrieked also with terror.
+
+“A ghost! a ghost! oh, have mercy upon us! Amen! amen!”
+
+Fright lent him wings, and he fled, followed by the savage yells of the
+white figure, and never stopped until he reached Oberweimar, where
+he related to the astonished and terrified neighbors that there was
+a river-ghost just by the bridge which led to the cottage of the
+mad secretary of legation, Goethe, and which howled in the
+moonlight.[Footnote: This tradition of the ghost of the Ilm has been
+preserved in Weimar, since Goethe’s nocturnal bath, until our time.--See
+Lewes, vol. i., p. 451.]
+
+With the peasant also disappeared the ghost of the Ilm.
+
+Like a happy child of Nature, refreshed, Goethe went to his room and
+then again sought the balcony, to throw himself upon the carpet and
+gaze at the blue starry vault, and enjoy the glories of heaven with
+thoughtful devotion, and think of Charlotte--only of her, not once of
+the poor Thusnelda von Goechhausen, who passed the night upon the
+stairs of the Palace Belvedere, and who, at last weary with fright and
+exhaustion, fell asleep, and was awakened by the Duchess Amelia in
+the morning, laughingly demanding why she preferred the landing of the
+stairs for a place of repose.
+
+“Because I am bewitched, duchess, and my sleeping-room has disappeared
+from earth--because some cursed demon or wizard has enchanted me, this
+wicked--”
+
+“Beware what you say!” interrupted the duchess; “it is most probably the
+duke that you are inveighing against, and calling a demon and wizard.”
+
+At this Thusnelda sprang up as if struck by an electric shock--“The
+surprise, this is what the duke promised me.”
+
+“Very likely,” laughed the duchess. “The courier just arrived with a
+letter from my son to you, and I came to bring it myself, and found you,
+to my surprise, sleeping here. Read it, and tell me what he says!”
+
+“Oh, listen, your highness!” cried Thusnelda, after having hastily
+perused the contents of the ducal missive.
+
+“‘I hope I have succeeded to surprise you! Demons and wizards have
+closed your doors, And weeping you slept on the stairway alone. All
+witchcraft has now disappeared. Go seek The surprise that from Berlin I
+brought you, Which I now offer for an atonement.’”
+
+“An insolent fellow, indeed, is my son,” said the duchess, “but you see,
+Thusnelda, he says, pater peccavi, and I am convinced that you will find
+something very pretty and acceptable in your room.”
+
+“I will not take it--indeed I will not,” pouted the lady of honor. “He
+so fearfully tormented me last night. I assure your highness I was half
+dead with terror and--”
+
+“And yet you will forgive him, Thusnelda, for the duke is your declared
+favorite; you dare not reproach him were he never so insolent, for you
+are just as much so, and not a hair’s-breadth better. Come, go up and
+see what it is.”
+
+She went, and found four masons, who had been at work since daybreak to
+remove the wall and replace the door. Thusnelda was obliged to laugh in
+spite of the unhappy night she had passed, as she climbed over rubbish
+and ruins into her room, and met her maid dissolved in tears, who
+related to her that “the duke had had her walled in, for fear she would
+tell the trick to her mistress.”
+
+“And so you were really hermetically sealed?” said the duchess.
+
+“Yes, your highness,” whimpered the maid, “I thought I never should
+see daylight again. I wept and prayed all night. The only thing that
+consoled me was the duke’s command, which Philip brought to me, to give
+this little box to Fraulein so soon as the wall should be taken away in
+the morning.”
+
+“Give it to me, Lieschen,” cried Thusnelda, impatiently, her face
+beaming with satisfaction, however, when she opened the box. “Now,
+duchess, that is what I call a surprise, and the duke shall be, as he
+ever has been, my favorite. If he does sometimes play rude tricks, he
+makes it all right again, in a very generous and princely manner. See
+what a beautiful watch his highness has brought me, ornamented with
+diamonds!”
+
+“Yes, it is very pretty; give it to me that I may return it to the duke,
+and not mortify him too much, as you will not wear it.”
+
+“I will accept it, duchess,” cried Thusnelda, laughing--“and all is
+forgiven and forgotten.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE PURSE-PROUD MAN.
+
+
+“Trude, is there no news from him yet? Have you never seen him since?
+Did he not tell you about it?”
+
+“No, my dearest Marie,” sighed old Trude. “There is no word, no message
+from him. I have been twenty times to the baker’s in eight days, and
+waited at the corner of the street, where we agreed to meet, but no
+Moritz was there, and I have not been able to hear any thing about him.”
+
+“Something must have happened to him,” sighed Marie. “He is very ill,
+perhaps dying, and--”
+
+“No, no, my child, he is not ill, I will tell you all about it, if you
+will not worry. I have been to Herr Moritz’s lodgings to-day. I could
+not wait any longer, and--”
+
+“Did you see him, and speak with him, Trude?”
+
+“No Marie, he was not there; and the people in the house told me that he
+had been gone for a week.”
+
+“Gone!” repeated Marie, thoughtfully. “What does it mean? What could
+persuade him to abandon me in this hour of need? Tell me, Trude, what do
+you think? Console me if you can. You really know nothing further than
+that he is gone?”
+
+“A little bit more, but not much, my heart’s child. When the people told
+me that he had disappeared eight days ago, it seemed as if one of the
+Alps had fallen on my heart, and my limbs trembled so I could go no
+farther, and I was obliged to sit down upon the stairs and cry bitterly,
+picturing all sorts of dreadful things to myself.”
+
+“Dreadful things?” asked Marie. “Oh, Trude, you do not believe that my
+good, brave Moritz could do any thing sinful and cowardly, like wicked
+men? You do not think that my beloved--oh, no, no--I know that he is
+more noble; he will bear the burden of life as I will, so long as it
+pleases God.”
+
+The old woman hung down her head, and humbly folded her hands. “Forgive
+me, my child, that I have such weak and sinful thoughts. I will
+apologize for them in my heart to you and your beloved so long as I
+live. After I had cried enough, I determined to go to the Gray Cloister,
+and beg the director to see me!”
+
+“Did you see him to speak with him, dear good Trude?”
+
+“Yes, dear child. I told him I was an aged aunt of Herr Moritz, who had
+come to Berlin to visit him; and finding that he was absent, I would
+like to know where he had gone, and, how long he would remain away.”
+
+“Oh, Trude, how clever you are, and how kindly you think of every
+thing!” cried Marie, embracing her old nurse, and kissing affectionately
+her sunburnt, wrinkled cheek. “What did he say?”
+
+“He told me that Herr Moritz had begged permission to be absent fourteen
+days to take an urgent, unavoidable journey; that ten days had already
+expired, and he would soon return.”
+
+“Then he will be here in four days, and perhaps will bring hope and aid!
+He has gone to seek it; I know and I feel it, though I cannot divine
+where the assistance will come from. Oh, Trude, if I could only gain a
+favorable delay until Moritz returns!”
+
+“Every thing is arranged,” murmured Trude. “The marriage license is
+already made out, and Parson Dietrich has promised to be ready at any
+hour. Herr Ebenstreit has sent the money, doubling the amount required
+to the ‘Invalids’ Hospital’ at Berlin, so that when the papers of
+nobility arrive, there--”
+
+“Hush!” interrupted Marie, “do not speak of it. It is fearful to think
+of, and it crazes me to hear it. I will resort to every extreme. Since
+my father and mother are deaf to my entreaties, I will try to move him
+to pity. I have never been able to see him alone; my mother is watchful
+that an explanation should be impossible between us. I will implore this
+man to have pity upon me, and confide in him to whom they would sell
+me.”
+
+Trude shook her head mournfully. “I fear it will be in vain, dear child.
+This man has no heart. I have proved him, and I know it.--Hark the bell
+rings! Who can it be?”
+
+Both stepped out of the little garret-room to peep over the banister.
+Since Marie had been betrothed to the rich banker Ebenstreit, the
+general had received from his kind wife a servant in pompous livery for
+his own service. This servant had already opened the door, and Marie
+heard him announce in a loud voice, “Herr Ebenstreit!”
+
+“He!” Marie started back with horror. “He, so early in the morning! this
+is no accident, Trude. What does it mean? Hush! the servant is coming!”
+
+“I will go down,” whispered Trude; “perhaps I can hear something.”
+
+Trude hurried away as her young lady glided back into her room, and
+never glanced at the servant who sprang past her upon the stairs.
+
+“He is a hypocrite and a spy; he has been hired to watch and observe my
+child, and he will betray her if he discovers any thing.”
+
+The servant announced, with respectful, humble mien, that Herr
+Ebenstreit had arrived, and Frau von Werrig desired her daughter to
+descend to the parlor.
+
+“Very well--say that I will come directly.”
+
+The servant remained rubbing his hands in an undecided, embarrassed
+manner.
+
+“Why do you not go down?” asked Marie. “Have you any thing further to
+tell me?”
+
+“I would say,” said he, spying about the room, as if he were afraid some
+one were listening, “that if a poor, simple man like myself could be
+useful to you, and you could confide in me your commissions, I should be
+too happy to prove to you that Carl Leberecht is an honest fellow, and
+has a heart, and it hurts his feelings to see the miss suffer so much.”
+
+“I thank you,” said Marie, gently. “I am glad to feel that you have
+sympathy for me.”
+
+“If I can be of the least service to you, have the goodness to call me,
+and give me your commissions.”
+
+“Indeed I will, although I do not believe it practicable.”
+
+“I hope miss will not betray me to Frau von Werrig or old Trude.”
+
+“No, I promise you that, and here is my hand upon it.”
+
+The servant kissed the extended hand respectfully. “I will enter into
+the service of my young lady at once, and tell her she must prepare
+for the worst: Herr Ebenstreit just said, ‘The diploma of nobility has
+arrived.’”
+
+Marie turned deadly pale, and for an instant it seemed as if she would
+sink down from fright, but she recovered herself and conquered her
+weakness.
+
+“Thank you, it is very well that I should know that; I will go down
+directly,” said she.
+
+With calm, proud bearing Marie entered the sitting-room of her parents,
+and returned the salutations of her betrothed, who hastened toward her
+with tender assiduity.
+
+“My dear Marie,” cried her mother, “I have the honor to present to you
+Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The certificate of nobility arrived this
+morning.”
+
+“I congratulate you, mother--you have at last found the long-desired
+heir to your name.”
+
+“Congratulate me above all, my beautiful betrothed,” said Herr
+Ebenstreit, in a hoarse, scarcely intelligible voice. “This title crowns
+all my wishes, as it makes me your husband. I came to beg, dear Marie,
+that our marriage should take place to-morrow, as there is nothing now
+to prevent.”
+
+“Sir,” she proudly interrupted him, “have I ever permitted this familiar
+appellation?”
+
+“I have allowed it,” blurted out the general, packed in cushions in his
+roiling chair. “Proceed, my dear son.”
+
+The latter bowed with a grateful smile, and continued: “I would beg,
+my dear Marie, to choose whether our wedding-journey shall be in the
+direction of Italy, Spain, France, or wherever else it may please her.”
+
+“Is it thus arranged?” asked Marie. “Is the marriage to take place early
+to-morrow, and then the happy pair take a journey?”
+
+“Yes,” answered her mother, hastily, “it is so decided upon, and it
+will be carried out. You may naturally, my dear daughter, have some
+preference; so make it known--I am sure your betrothed will joyfully
+accord it.”
+
+“I will avail myself of this permission,” she quietly answered. “I wish
+to have a private conversation with this gentleman immediately, and
+without witnesses.”
+
+“Oh, how unfortunate I am!” sighed Herr Ebenstreit. “My dear Marie asks
+just that which I unfortunately cannot grant her.”
+
+“What should prevent your fulfilling my wish?” asked Marie.
+
+“My promise,” he whined. “On the very day of my betrothal, I was obliged
+to promise my dear mother-in-law never to speak with you alone or
+correspond with my sweet lady-love.”
+
+“These are the rules of decency and of etiquette, which I hope my
+daughter will respect,” said Frau von Werrig, in a severe tone. “No
+virtuous young girl would presume to receive her betrothed alone or
+exchange love-letters with him before marriage!”
+
+“After the wedding there will be opportunities enough for such follies,”
+ grumbled the general.
+
+“You may be sure that I shall use them, dear father,” laughed
+Ebenstreit. “I would beg my respected mother to release me a half-hour
+from my oath to-day, that I may indulge the first expressed wish that my
+future wife favors me with.”
+
+“It is impossible, my son. I never deviate from my principles. You will
+not speak with my daughter before marriage, except in the presence of
+her parents.”
+
+“Mother, do you insist upon it?” cried Marie, terrified. “Will you not
+indulge this slight wish?”
+
+“‘This slight wish!’” sneered her mother. “As if I did not know why you
+ask this private conversation. You wish to persuade our son-in-law to
+what you in vain have tried to implore your parents to do. A modest
+maiden has nothing to say to her future husband, which her parents, and
+above all her mother, could not hear. So tell your betrothed what you
+desire.”
+
+“Well, mother, you must then take the consequences.--Herr Ebenstreit,
+they will force me to become your wife, they will sell me as merchandise
+to you, and you have accepted the bargain in good faith, believing that
+I agree to sacrifice my freedom and human rights for riches. They have
+deceived you, sir! I am not ready to give myself up to the highest
+bidder. I am a woman, with a heart to love and hate, who esteems
+affection superior to wealth. I cannot marry you, and I beg you not to
+teach me to hate you.”
+
+A savage curse broke forth from the general, who, forgetting his gout,
+rose furious, shaking his clinched fist at his daughter.
+
+His wife was immediately by his side, and pushed him into his arm-chair,
+commanding him, in her harsh, cold to remain quiet and take care of his
+health, and listen to what his son-in-law had to say to his unfeeling
+and unnatural daughter. “He alone has to decide.--Speak, my dear son,”
+ said she, turning to the young man, who, with a malicious smile, had
+listened to the baroness, fixing his dull-blue eyes upon the young girl,
+who never seemed so desirable to him, as she now stood before him with
+glowing cheeks.
+
+“Again I say, speak, my dear son, and tell my daughter the truth; do you
+hear, the truth?”
+
+“If you will permit me, my dearest mother, I will,” answered Ebenstreit,
+with submissive kindness, again regarding the daughter. “You have made
+me a sad confession, Marie,” said he, sighing, “but I will acknowledge
+that I am not surprised, for your mother told me when I asked for your
+hand, that she feared I should never gain your consent, for you did not
+love me, although she herself, and the general, would grant theirs.”
+
+“Was that all that I told you?” asked the mother, coldly.
+
+“No, not all,” continued Ebenstreit, slightly inclining; “you added, ‘My
+daughter loves a beggar, a poor school-master, and she entertains the
+romantic idea of marrying him.’”
+
+“And what did you reply?” asked Marie, almost breathless.
+
+“My dear Marie, I laughed, repeating my proposal of marriage to your
+mother, saying, that I was ready to take up the combat with the poor
+pedagogue, and that you seemed all the more interesting and amiable for
+this romantic love. Life is so tedious and wretched, that one is glad
+to have some change and distraction. I assure you, I have not been so
+entertained for long years, as in the last fourteen days in this
+silent war with you. It amuses me infinitely to see you so stubborn and
+prudish, and increases my love for you. How could it be otherwise? The
+rich banker, Ebenstreit, has never seen a woman who was not ready to
+accept his hand, and why should he not love the first one who resists
+it? You have excited my self-love and vanity. You have made the marriage
+a matter of ambition, and you will comprehend that my answer is:
+‘Fraulein von Leuthen must and shall be my wife, no matter what it costs
+me. She defies my riches and despises money, so I will force her to
+respect my wealth and recognize its power. Besides, she is a cruel,
+egotistical daughter; who has no pity for her poor parents, and is
+capable of seeing them perish for her foolish attachment. I will
+make her a good child, and force her to make her parents, and thereby
+herself, happy.’ All this I said to myself, and I have acted and shall
+act accordingly. I have only to add that the ceremony will take place
+to-morrow, at eleven. We will leave immediately after. Have the goodness
+therefore to choose in which direction, that I may at once make the
+necessary arrangements.”
+
+“Lost--lost without hope!” cried Marie, in anguish, covering her face
+with her hands.
+
+“Rather say rescued from misfortune,” answered Ebenstreit, quietly.
+“Believe me, there is but one sorrow that may not be borne, may not be
+conquered, and that is poverty, which is a corroding, consuming malady,
+annihilating body, and soul, swifter and surer than the most subtle
+poison. It stifles all noble feelings, all poetical thoughts and great
+deeds, and, believe me, love even cannot resist its terrible power. One
+day you will understand this. I will be patient and indulgent, and await
+it with hope.”
+
+“Oh, what a noble and high-minded man!” cried the mother, with
+emphasis.--“Marie should kneel and thank her Maker for such a
+magnanimous savior and lover, who will shield her from all evil and
+misfortune.”
+
+Sobbing and sighing, the daughter had stood with her face concealed;
+now she regarded the cold-hearted, smiling woman, with flashing eyes and
+keen contempt.
+
+“Thank him!” she cried; “no, I accuse, I curse him. He is an atheist,
+and denies love. He is not capable of a noble thought or action,
+scorning and defaming all that is beautiful and elevated, worshipping
+only mammon. I will never marry him. You may force me to the altar, and
+there I will denounce him.”
+
+“She will kill me,” cried the general; “she will murder her aged
+parents, leaving them to starve and perish, and--”
+
+“Silence!” commanded his wife. “Leave off your complaints, she is not
+worth the tears or remonstrances of her parents. She would try to be
+our murderess, but she shall not.--My son, inform her of your decision.
+Answer her.”
+
+“The response to your romantic language is simple and natural, my dear
+Marie. I have already entered into your feelings, and am prepared for
+this idea of refusing your lover at the altar, which is found in novels,
+and I supposed that it might occur to you. Money compasses all things
+and according to our wishes. My fortune procures for me a dispensation
+from public authorities to be married here in the house of our dear
+parents. The law demands four witnesses, who will be represented by your
+parents, my servant Philip, and the sacristan whom the clergyman will
+bring.”
+
+“And they will hear me abjure you.”
+
+“It is very possible, dearest, but the witnesses will not listen to
+you. Money makes the deaf to hear, and the hearing ones deaf. Old parson
+Dietrich knows the story of your love, and believes, with us, that it is
+a malady that you must be cured of. Therefore, in pity to you, he will
+not listen, and the others are paid to keep silent.”
+
+“Is there no hope, O Heaven?” cried Marie, imploringly. “O God, Thou
+hast permitted it--hast Thou no pity in my need, and sendest me no aid?”
+ Rushing to her father, and kneeling at his feet, she continued: “Have
+mercy upon your poor child! You are an old man, and may live but a few
+years; do not burden your conscience with the fearful reproaches of your
+only child, whom you will condemn to an inconsolably long and unhappy
+life.”
+
+“Have you no pity yourself? Do you not know that I, your father, am so
+poor, that I have not even the necessary care? You wish your parents to
+sacrifice themselves for you, and suffer want! No, the daughter should
+sacrifice herself for her parents.”
+
+“A beautiful sacrifice, a fine sorrow!” sneered her mother. “She will
+be a rich woman, and have the most splendid house and furniture and most
+costly equipage in Berlin!”
+
+“And a husband who adores her,” cried Ebenstreit, “and who will feel it
+his duty to make her and her parents happy. Resolve bravely to bury the
+past, and look the immutable future joyfully in the face. Eleven will be
+the happy hour; fear not that the altar will not be worthy the charming
+bride of such a rich family. Money will procure every thing, and I will
+send a florist who will change this room into a blooming temple, fit to
+receive the goddess of love. In your room you will find the gift of my
+affection, a simple wedding-dress, which I trust you will approve of.
+Oh, do not shake your head, do not say that you will never wear it; you
+must believe that all resistance is in vain. You will become my wife, I
+and my money will it.”
+
+“And I,” cried Marie, standing before him pale and defiant, regarding
+him with unspeakable contempt, “I and my love will it not. May God judge
+between us! May He forgive those who have brought this misfortune upon
+me! I can only say, ‘Woe to them!’”
+
+“Woe to you!” cried her mother. “Woe to the seducer who has persuaded
+our child to sin and crime, and--”
+
+“Hush mother! I will not permit you to slander him whom I love, and ever
+shall, so long--”
+
+“Until you forget him, and love me, Marie,” said Ebenstreit. Approaching
+her, he seized her hand, and pressed a kiss upon it.
+
+She drew it away with disgust, and turned slowly to the door, tossing
+back her head proudly. “Where are you going?” demanded her mother.
+
+With her hand upon the knob, she replied, turning her pale, wan face
+to her mother, “To my own room, which I suppose is permitted to me, as
+there is nothing more to be said.”
+
+Her mother would reply, and retain her, but her son-in-law held her
+gently back. “Let her go,” said he; “she needs rest for composure and to
+accustom herself to the thought that her fate is unavoidable.”
+
+“But what if she should resort to desperate means in her mad infatuation
+and foolish passion? Some one must watch her continually, for she may
+try to elope.”
+
+“You are right, dearest mother, some one must be with her, in whom she
+will confide. Would it not be possible to win old Trude?”
+
+“No, nothing would gain her; she is a silly fool, who thinks only Marie
+is of consequence.”
+
+Ebenstreit shrugged his shoulders. “That means that she would sell
+herself at a high price. I beg that you will send for her.”
+
+“You will see,” said she, calling the old woman, who entered from the
+opposite door.
+
+Trude looked about, scowling and grumbling. “Leberecht told me my
+mistress called me.”
+
+“Why do you then look so furious, and what are you seeking on the
+table?” asked Frau von Werrig.
+
+“My money,” cried Trude, vehemently. “I thought that you called me to
+pay me, and that my wages were all counted out on the table. But I see
+there is nothing there, and I fear I shall get none, and be poor as a
+church-mouse all my life long. Your honor promised me positively
+that, as soon as the wedding was decided upon, you would pay me every
+farthing, with interest, and I depended upon it.”
+
+“You shall have all, and much more than the general’s wife promised you,
+if you will be a true and faithful servant to us,” said Ebenstreit.
+
+“That I always have been, and ever shall be,” snarled Trude. “No person
+can say aught against me. Now, I want my money.”
+
+“And obstinate enough you have been too,” said her mistress. “Can you
+deny that you have not always taken my daughter’s part?”
+
+“I do not deny it. I have nursed her from childhood, and I love her as
+my own child, and would do any thing to make her happy!”
+
+“Do you believe, Trude,” cried the general, “that Marie could be
+happy with that poor, starving wretch of a school-master? Has she not
+experienced in her own home the misfortune and shame of poverty?”
+
+“I know it well,” sighed the old one, sadly, “and it has converted me to
+believe that it would be a great misfortune for Marie to marry the poor
+school-master.”
+
+“Well, will you then faithfully help us to prevent it?” quickly asked
+Ebenstreit.
+
+“How can I do it?” she sighed, shrugging her shoulder.
+
+“You can persuade my daughter to be reasonable, and yield to that which
+she cannot prevent. You are the only one who can make any impression
+upon Marie, as she confides in you. Watch her, that in a moment of
+passionate desperation she does not commit some rash act. You can tell
+us, further, what she says, and warn us of any crazy plan she might form
+to carry out her own will.”
+
+“That is to say, I must betray my Marie?” cried Trude, angrily.
+
+“No, not betray, but rescue her. Will you do it?” asked Ebenstreit.
+
+“I wish to be paid my wages, my two hundred thalers, that I have
+honestly earned, and I will have them.”
+
+Ebenstreit took a piece of paper from his pocket. Writing a few lines
+with a pencil, he laid it upon the table. “If you will take this to
+my cashier after the ceremony to-morrow, he will pay you four hundred
+thalers.”
+
+“Four hundred thalers in cash,” cried Trude, joyfully clapping her
+hands. “Shall all that beautiful money be mine, and--No, I do not
+believe you,” she cried, her face reassuming its gloomy, suspicious
+look. “You promise it to me to-day, that I may assist you, and persuade
+Marie to the marriage, but to-morrow, when old Trude is of no more use,
+you will send me away penniless. Oh, I know how it is. I have lived
+long enough to understand the tricks of rich people. I will see the cash
+first--only for that will I sell myself.”
+
+“The old woman pleases me,” said Ebenstreit. “She is practical, and
+she is right.--If I promise you the money in an hour, will you persuade
+Marie to cease her foolish resistance, and be my wife? Will you watch
+over her, and tell us if any thing unusual occurs?”
+
+“Four hundred thalers is a pretty sum,” repeated Trude, in a low voice
+to herself. “I might buy myself a place in the hospital, and have enough
+left to get me a new bed and neat furniture and--”
+
+Here her voice was lost in unintelligible mumbling, and, much excited,
+she appeared to count eagerly. With her bony forefinger she numbered
+over the fingers of her left hand, as if each were a fortune that she
+must verify and examine.
+
+The mother and the banker regarded each other with mocking looks; the
+general looked at the money, grumbling: “If I had had four hundred
+thalers the last time I played, I could have won back my money in
+playing again.”
+
+“Old woman,” said Ebenstreit, “have you not finished with your
+reckoning?”
+
+“Yes,” she said, with an exultant laugh, “I have done! Four hundred
+thalers are not sufficient. I must have five, and if you will give them
+to me in cash in an hour, then I will do every thing that you wish, and
+persuade Marie to the marriage. I will watch her day and night, and tell
+you every thing that she says and does. But I must have five hundred in
+cash!”
+
+Ebenstreit turned his dull-blue eyes to Frau von Werrig with a
+triumphant smile. “Did you not tell me the old woman could not be
+bought? I knew that I was right. You did not offer her money enough; she
+will sell herself dear as possible.”
+
+“Yes, as dear as she can,” laughed Trude--“five hundred is my price.”
+
+“You shall have it in cash in an hour,” said Ebenstreit, in a friendly
+manner.
+
+“So much money,” whined the general; “it would have saved me if I had
+had it that last time.”
+
+“My son-in-law, I must confess you are exceedingly generous,” remarked
+the mother.
+
+“No sum would be too great to assure me my bride. Go now, Trude, you
+shall have the money in time.--Will you allow me, father, to send your
+servant to my office for it?”
+
+“Send Leberecht here, Trude!”
+
+The old woman hurried out of the room, but the door once closed, her
+manner changed. One might have supposed a sudden cramp had seized her,
+from her distorted face, and twitching and panting, and beating the air
+with her clinched fists, and her quivering lips uttering broken words.
+
+Approaching footsteps warned her to assume her general manner and
+expression, and cease her manipulations. “The ladies and gentlemen wish
+you in the parlor,” mumbled Trude to the servant descending the stairs.
+“But where have you been, and what have you to do up there?”
+
+“I was looking for you, lovely one--nothing more!”
+
+“Well, now you have found me, tell me what you want? I know you were
+sneaking about, listening, because you thought I was with Marie. I
+understand you better than you think I do. I have found many a viper,
+and I am familiar with their aspect. Go! they are waiting for you, and
+let me find you again spying about, and I will throw a pail of water on
+you!”
+
+With this friendly assurance Trude dismissed Leberecht, and hastened
+with youthful activity to the little garret-room, when Marie fell upon
+her neck, weeping bitterly.
+
+“Calm yourself--do not weep so--it breaks my heart, my dear child.”
+
+“And mine cannot break. I must endure all this anguish and survive this
+shame. Help me, my good mother, stand by me! It is impossible for me to
+marry that dreadful man. I have sworn constancy to my beloved Moritz,
+and I must be firm, or die!”
+
+“Die? then you will kill me!” murmured the old one, “for, if you go,
+I must go also. But we will not give up yet, as we are both living; we
+will not despair for life. I am going once more to Moritz’s lodgings; it
+may be he has returned, and will rescue you.”
+
+“Oh, do, good Trude; tell him that I have courage and determination to
+risk and bear every thing--that I will await him; that nothing would be
+too difficult or dangerous to serve to unite me to him! Tell him that I
+prefer a life of poverty and want by his side, to abundance and riches
+in a splendid palace with that detested creature--but no, say nothing
+about it, he knows it well! If he has returned, tell him all that has
+happened, and that I am resolved to brave the utmost, to save myself!”
+
+“I will go, dear child, but I have first my work to do, and enough of
+it too--but listen to what they have made me become.” Hastily, in a
+low voice, she related to Marie the story of her corruption, excited as
+before, her limbs shaking and her fists clinched. “They say we old women
+resemble cats, but from to-day forth I know that is a shameful lie! If I
+had possessed their nature and claws, I should have sprung at the throat
+of this rascal, and torn out his windpipe; but, instead of that, I
+stood as if delighted with his degrading proposal! Oh, fie! the
+good-for-nothing kidnapper would tempt a poor creature! Let us wait,
+they will get their reward. He shall pay me the five hundred thalers,
+and then this trader of hearts shall recognize that, however much
+ill-earned money he may throw away, love and constancy are hot to be
+bought. We will teach him a lesson,” and with this, the old servant
+ceased, gasping for breath.
+
+“Go now, Trude, and learn if he has returned; upon him depends my
+happiness, and life even--he is my last hope!”
+
+“I am going, but first I would get the wages of my sin, and play the
+hypocrite, and tell a few untruths; then I will go to Moritz’s lodgings,
+and the baker also. Do not despair; I have a joyful presentiment that
+God will have pity upon us and send us aid.” Trude kissed and embraced
+her child, and scarcely waited an hour, when she was demanded in the
+parlor to receive her money.
+
+Herr Ebenstreit was heartily delighted with her zealous impatience, and
+handed her ten rolls of gold, reminding her of the conditions.
+
+“I have already consoled her a little, and she begins to change. I hope
+every thing will turn for good. Just leave her alone with me.”
+
+“But first, I must go and see my aged brother, who will take care of my
+money,” replied Trude. “He is a safe man and will not spend it.”
+
+“Trude,” cried the general, “what an old fool! to seek at distance what
+is so near you. I will take your money, and give you interest. Do you
+hear? I will take care of it!”
+
+“Thank you, general, I’d rather give it to my brother, on account of the
+relationship.” She slipped out of the room, hid the money in her bed,
+and hurriedly left the house.
+
+Scarcely an hour passed ere Trude returned as fleetly as she went. She
+cast only a look into the kitchen, and hastened up to Marie’s room. Her
+success was evident in her happy, smiling face, and coming home she had
+repeated to herself, “How happy Marie will be!” almost the entire way.
+
+She had but closed the door, when the mean little Leberecht glided from
+behind the chimney, and crept to listen at the door.
+
+Within was a lively conversation, and twice a shout of joy was heard and
+Marie, exultant, cried, “Oh, Trude! dear Trude! all goes well, I fear
+nothing now. God has sent me the savior which I implored!”
+
+Leberecht stood, bent over, applying his ear to the keyhole, listening
+to every word.
+
+Oh, Trude! if you could only have seen the traitor, glued to the door,
+with open eyes and mouth! Could you have seen the eavesdropper rubbing
+his hands together, grinning, and listening in breathless suspense!
+
+Why cannot you surprise him, Trude, and fulfil your threat to deluge him
+and chase him away from your child’s door? They forgot the necessity of
+prudence, and the possibility of being overheard. At last it occurred
+to the old servant, and she tore open the door, but no one was there--it
+was deserted and still.
+
+“God be thanked, no one has listened,” whispered Trude. “I will go down
+and tell them that I hope, if we can stay alone all day, you will be
+calmer and more reasonable.”
+
+“Do it, Trude; I do not dare to see any one for fear my face will betray
+me, and my mother has very sharp eyes. Return soon.”
+
+She opened the door, and saw not the eavesdropper and spy, who had but
+just time to conceal himself, and stand maliciously grinning at the
+retreating figure of the faithful servant.
+
+He slipped lightly from his hiding-place down to his sleeping-room, in
+a niche under the stairs. For a long time he reflected, upon his
+bedside--his watery blue eyes staring at nothing. “This must be well
+considered,” he mumbled. “There is, at last, a capital to be won. Which
+shall I do first, to grasp a good deal? Shall I wait, or go at once to
+Herr Ebenstreit? Very naturally they would both deny it, and say that I
+had made up the whole story to gain money. I had better let the affair
+go on: they can take a short drive, and when they are about an hour
+absent, I will sell my secret at a higher price. Now I will pretend to
+be quite harmless, and after supper let the bomb burst!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE ELOPEMENT.
+
+
+Evening had set in. The card-table had been arranged, and Leberecht had
+rolled his master to it, taking his place behind his chair. The hour
+of whist the general impatiently awaited the entire day, and it was
+regularly observed. Even in the contract with his adopted son it had
+been expressly mentioned as a duty, that he should not only secure to
+them yearly income, but also devote an hour to cards every evening.
+
+Herr Ebenstreit regarded it as a tax, which he must observe until
+married. The general was much his superior at cards, and, moreover,
+played the dummy, and the stake being high, it was quite an income for
+the future father-in-law, and regarded by him as the one bright spot in
+his daily life.
+
+The cards had been dealt, and Leberecht had assorted the general’s, and
+placed them in his gouty hand, when Trude entered, exultingly.
+
+“What has happened? What makes you interrupt us?” cried the general.
+“Did you not remember that I have told you always not to disturb us at
+this hour.”
+
+“Yes, general, but I thought good news was never amiss.”
+
+“What have you pleasant to tell us?” harshly demanded Frau von Werrig.
+
+“My young lady’s compliments,” cried Trude, triumphantly; “she begins
+to see that she must yield to her fate, and that it will do no good to
+resist any longer. She will be ready for the ceremony at eleven o’clock
+to-morrow morning.”
+
+The general uttered a cry of joy, and struck the table so violently,
+with his hand, that the cards were thrown together.
+
+His wife bowed dignifiedly, and the happy bridegroom gave old Trude some
+gold-pieces upon the favorable news.
+
+“Has she, then, been converted by your persuasion?” he asked.
+
+“Through my persuasion and her own good sense. She understands that,
+if she cannot marry her dear Moritz, Herr Ebenstreit is the most fit
+husband, because he loves her, and is so generous to her old parents.
+One thing she would like an answer to--can I accompany her to her new
+home?”
+
+“Yes, old woman, it will be very agreeable to have so sensible a
+person,” said Ebenstreit. “Tell Marie that it gives me pleasure to
+fulfil her wish.”
+
+“In that case I would repeat that Fraulein begs for indulgence and
+forbearance until to-morrow, and would like to remain alone to compose
+herself.”
+
+“I do not wish, in the least, to see her,” said her mother; “she can do
+what she likes until then.”
+
+“I will tell Marie, and she will rejoice,” cried Trude.
+
+“Tell her, from her father, that it is very agreeable to him not to see
+her pale, wretched-looking face again till morning.--Now, my son,
+pay attention, and you, Trude, do not presume to interrupt us again.
+Leberecht, play out my ace of hearts.”
+
+The latter, with his eyes cast down, and with a perfectly indifferent
+manner, played the card indicated, and Trude left the room quietly and
+unobserved.
+
+“Every thing is arranged, my child,” said Trude, as she re-entered
+Marie’s room. “They are playing cards, which always lasts two hours,
+then Herr Ebenstreit goes away, and the family will go to bed. You have
+eighteen hours, before you will be discovered. Hark! it strikes seven,
+and it is already quite dark. When the post-horn sounds, then it is
+time.”
+
+“Oh, Trude! my dear mother, my heart almost ceases to beat, with
+anxiety, and I quake with fear,” sighed Marie. “I am conscious that I
+have commenced a fearful undertaking!”
+
+“They have driven you to it--it is not your fault,” said Trude,
+consolingly. “Every human being is free to work out his own good or bad
+fortune, and, as our dear Old Fritz says, ‘to be happy in the future
+world in his own way.’ They have sold you for money, and you only prove
+to them that you are no slave.”
+
+“And I prove also that I am a disobedient daughter,” added Marie,
+trembling. “At this hour, it weighs like a heavy burden upon my heart,
+and the words of Holy Writ burn into my very soul--‘Honor thy father and
+thy mother, that it may be well with thee.’”
+
+“You have honored them all your life,” said Trude, solemnly; “I can
+witness it before God and man. You have worked for them without thanks
+or love, receiving only contempt. It is also written, ‘Thou shalt leave
+father and mother, and cleave unto thy husband.’ You still follow the
+commands of God, and may it bring you happiness and blessing. My
+prayers and thoughts go with you, my child! a mother could not love her
+offspring more tenderly than I do you.”
+
+“No mother could more tenderly and faithfully care for her than you
+have for me, Trude,” cried Marie, pressing her lovingly to her breast.
+“Through you alone is my rescue possible, for you give us the money to
+undertake the long journey.”
+
+“Not I,” she laughed; “it is Herr Ebenstreit, and that makes it the
+more amusing; the wicked always set the traps into which they fall
+themselves.” Suddenly the loud, quivering tones of the post-horn were
+heard, “Es ritten drei Reiter zum Thore hinaus.”
+
+“He has come!” cried Marie, and her face beamed with delight. “He calls
+me! I am coming!--Farewell, dear, peaceful room, where I have so toiled,
+wept, and suffered! I shall never see thee again! My beloved calls me,
+and I go to follow him even unto death! Pardon me, O God! Thou seest
+that I cannot do otherwise! They would force me to perjury, and I dare
+not break my oath! I cannot forsake him whom I love!--When they curse
+me, Trude, kneel, and implor God to bless me, who is the Father of love!
+My conscience does not reproach me. I have worked for them when they
+needed it; now their adopted son, to whom they have sold their name,
+allows them a yearly rent, and I can work for myself.”
+
+“Hark! there is the post-horn again, you must go,” murmured Trude,
+struggling to force back her tears.
+
+“Bless me, mother,” implored Marie, kneeling.
+
+“God’s blessing go with you,” she said, laying her hands upon her head,
+“and may it render of no avail the curses of men, but permit you to walk
+in love and happiness!”
+
+“Amen, amen!” sighed Marie, “now farewell, dear mother, farewell!”
+
+Marie rose, and kissing Trude again, flitted down the stairs, and out of
+the house, Trude following, holding her breath and listening in fearful
+excitement.
+
+Again resounded the post-horn.
+
+“They are gone,” murmured Trude, bowing her head and praying long and
+fervently.
+
+The general was particularly fortunate this evening, which caused him to
+be unusually cheerful and satisfied. After every rubber he gathered up
+the thalers, until he had amassed a most satisfactory pile. As the clock
+struck ten, Frau von Werrig declared that they must finish and go to
+bed.
+
+The general yielded, with a sigh, to her decision, for he knew, by
+long years of experience, that it would be in vain to defy her will.
+He shoved his winnings into a leather bag, which he always carried
+with him, and gave Leberecht the order to roll away his chair, when
+the servant, with a solemn bow, stepped closely to him, and begged the
+general to listen to him a moment.
+
+“Well, what have you to say?” he asked.
+
+“I have only one request--that you will permit me to prove that I am a
+faithful servant, who looks out for the good of his employers. You
+have given Trude five hundred thalers that she might watch over your
+daughter. I can show you how well she deserved it, and how differently
+your humble servant would have done.--Have the goodness, Frau von
+Werrig, to call Trude to bid Fraulein come down, for you have something
+important to communicate to her.”
+
+His mistress proudly regarded him and seemed to try to read his meaning
+in his smiling, humble face. “And if my daughter comes, what have you to
+say?”
+
+“If she comes, then I am a miserable fool and scoundrel, but I beg you
+to call Trude.”
+
+It was a long time before the old woman appeared, confused and sleepy,
+asking--“what they wanted at such a late hour?”
+
+“Go and tell my daughter that I wish to see her at once.”
+
+Trude trembled, but composed herself, saying, “There is time enough
+to-morrow. Fraulein has been asleep a long time.”
+
+“She lies,” sneered Leberecht, taking the precaution to protect himself
+behind the general’s arm-chair. “She knows that she is not in bed.”
+
+“Oh, you sneak, you rascal,” cried Trude, shaking her fist at him, “how
+dare you say that I tell a lie? How can such a miserable creature as
+you impute to others what you do yourself every time that you open your
+mouth?”
+
+“Frau von Werrig, she is only quarrelling, in order to gain time--every
+moment is precious. I beg you to go up-stairs, and see for yourself, if
+your daughter is there.”
+
+“Fraulein has locked the door so as not to be disturbed.”
+
+“Ah,” said Leberecht, “Trude has locked it, and has the key in her
+pocket.”
+
+“Give up the key,” shrieked the general, who in vain tried to rise, “or
+I will call the police, and send you to prison.”
+
+“Do it, but I will not give it to you.”
+
+“Do you not see she has it?” cried Leberecht.
+
+“Oh, you wretch, I will pay you--I will scratch your eyes out, you
+miserable creature!”
+
+“Trude, be quiet,” commanded Ebenstreit; “the general orders to give up
+the key--do it!”
+
+“Yes, do it at once,” shrieked Frau von Werrig, “or I will dismiss you
+from my service.”
+
+“That you will not have to do, as I shall go myself. I will not give up
+the key.”
+
+“The door is old, and with a good push one could open it,” said
+Leberecht.
+
+“Come, my son, let us see,” said the mother.
+
+They hastened up to the room, while the general scolded, furiously that
+he must sit still. Leberecht and Trude cast furious, menacing glances at
+each other.
+
+Suddenly a loud crash was heard.
+
+“They have broken open the door!” cried the general.
+
+“I said that it was old and frail--what do you say now, beautiful
+Trude?”
+
+The old woman wiped with her hand the drops of perspiration from her
+forehead, caused by her anguish. “You are a bad fellow, and God will
+punish you for your treason, that you have tormented a noble, unhappy
+girl. I saw that you were an eavesdropper, and you know all.”
+
+“She is gone!” shrieked the mother, rushing into the room.
+
+“The room is empty,” cried Ebenstreit. “Marie is not there. Tell us,
+Leberecht, what you know about it.”
+
+“I will, if we can agree about the pay--the old woman bothers me, and
+beg the young gentleman to go into the next room with me.”
+
+“O Almighty God, have compassion upon my poor little Marie,” murmured
+Trude, kneeling, and covering her face.
+
+Ebenstreit in the mean time withdrew to the other room, followed by the
+servant.
+
+“Speak!” commanded his master, “and tell me what you have to say.”
+
+Leberecht shrugged his shoulders. “We are two men who have urgent
+business with each other. I am not at present a servant and you the
+master. I am a man who has an important secret to sell, and you are the
+man who would buy it.”
+
+“What strange, unheard-of language is this?” said Ebenstreit,
+astonished.
+
+“The language of a man who cannot only deprive the rich banker
+Ebenstreit of a lovely wife, but of his title also. You said yourself,
+sir, this morning, that it was only valid if you succeeded in marrying
+the daughter of General von Leuthen. No none knows where you can find
+your bride but me.”
+
+“And Trude,” said Ebenstreit, quickly.
+
+“You know she will not betray Fraulein, and you have not even tried to
+make her.”
+
+“You are mistaken; Trude is as easily bought as any one.”
+
+“You say that because she has taken five hundred thalers from you. She
+has not helped you, and it is useless to ask for your money, as she has
+not got it.”
+
+“How so? Has she given it away?”
+
+“You provided the money for your bride to run away and marry elsewhere,
+as Trude gave it to them.”
+
+Ebenstreit stamped his foot with rage, striding backward and forward in
+furious excitement, while Leberecht watched him, sardonically smiling.
+“Let us come to an end with this business,” said Ebenstreit, stopping
+before his servant. “You know where Fraulein can be found, and you wish
+to sell the secret--tell me your price.”
+
+“Three thousand thalers, and a clerkship in your bank, which you intend
+to continue under another name.”
+
+“You are beside yourself. I am not so foolish as to grant such senseless
+demands.”
+
+“Every hour that you wait I demand a thousand thalers more, and if you
+stop to reflect long your betrothed and your title both are lost.”
+
+“You are a miserable scamp!” cried Ebenstreit, enraged; “I will
+inform the police. There are means enough to force you to give the
+information.”
+
+“I do not believe it. Trude will not tell you, and I should like to know
+what can force me if I will not. The king has done away with torture,
+and I have informed you how to make me speak. Three thousand thalers and
+a clerkship in your office. Take care! it is almost eleven o’clock--at
+midnight I shall demand four thousand.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. UNDER THE STARRY HEAVENS.
+
+
+It was a beautiful, clear, moonlight night. The world reposed in
+silence. Mankind with their cares and sorrows, their joys and hopes, had
+gone to rest. Over town and village, over highway and forest had flitted
+the sweet, consoling angel--Sleep. The sad were soothed, the heavy-laden
+were lightened of their burdens, to the despairing were brought golden
+dreams, to the weary rest. Sighing and sorrowful, he turned from those
+with a sad face whose conscience banished repose, and, ah! their number
+was legion. To the wakeful and blissful he smilingly glanced, breathing
+a prayer and a blessing; but these were few and far between--for
+happiness is a rare guest, and tarries with mortals but fitfully. As
+he glided past the joyful couple who, with watchful love and grateful
+hearts, sat in the carriage rolling over the silent, deserted highway,
+two tears fell from his eyes, and his starry wings were wider outspread
+to rush more quickly past.
+
+“Look, my dear Marie, two stars just fell from heaven. They are a
+greeting to you, loved one, and they would say they guide us on our
+way.”
+
+“Oh, Philip, it is a sign of ill-luck! Falling stars betoken
+misfortune!”
+
+She clung closer to his side, and laid her head upon his shoulder.
+He pressed her more lovingly to his heart. “Do not fear, dear Marie;
+separation only could cause us unhappiness--we have long borne it, and
+now it is forever past. You have given yourself to me for my own, and I
+am yours, heart and soul; we speed on through the night to the morning
+of the bright, sunny future, never more to be parted.”
+
+“Never!” she fervently murmured. “Oh, may God hear our prayer. Never,
+never to part! Yet, while the word falls from my lips, a shudder creeps
+through my soul.”
+
+“Wherefore this despair, dearest? Reflect, no one will be apprised of
+our flight till early morning, and then they will not know whither we
+have fled. Meanwhile we rush on to Hamburg, where a packet-ship sails
+every Wednesday for England; arriving there, we will first go to
+Suffolk, to my old friend the vicar of Tunningham. I was his guest many
+weeks last year, and he often related to me the privilege which had
+been conferred on the parish church for a long time to perform valid
+marriages for those to whose union there were obstacles interposed
+elsewhere. He will bless the union of our love, and will accord me the
+lawful right to call you my own before God and man. We will not return
+at once to Germany. I have many connections and literary friends in
+London, who will assist me to worthy occupation. Besides, I closed an
+agreement some weeks since with the publisher Nicolai in Berlin for a
+new work. I will write it in London; it will be none the less favored
+coming from a distance.”
+
+“My flowers and paintings will also be as well received in as in
+Berlin,” added Marie, smilingly.
+
+“No, Marie, you shall not work. I shall have the precious care of
+providing for you, which will be my pride and happiness. Oh, my beloved,
+what a crowning bliss to possess a sweet, dear wife, who is only rich
+in imperishable treasures, and poor in external riches! What delight
+to toil for her, and feel that there lives in my intellect the power to
+grant her every wish, and to compensate her in the slightest degree the
+boundless wealth of her affection! To a loving mind there is no prouder,
+happier feeling than to be the only source of support to the wife of his
+love--to know that she looks to him for the fulfilment of her slightest
+wish in life. I thank my Maker that you are poor, Marie, and that I am
+permitted to toil for you. How else could I reward you for all you have
+sacrificed for me?”
+
+“You cannot suppose, dear Philip, that the riches of my obtrusive lover
+would have been any attraction to me. Money could never compensate for
+the loss of your love. You are my life, and from you alone can I receive
+happiness or unhappiness. At your side I am rich and joyous, though we
+may outwardly need; without you I should be poor with superfluity. I
+am proud that we in spirit have freed ourselves from those fictitious
+externals with which the foolish burden themselves. Oh, my beloved
+Philip, my whole soul is exultant that we are never more to part--no,
+not even in eternity, for I believe that love is an undying sentiment,
+and the soul can never be darkened by death which is beaming with
+affection.”
+
+“You are right, Marie, love is the immortality of the soul; through it
+man is regenerated and soars to the regions of eternal light. When I
+recall how desolate and gloomy was my life, how joyless the days dragged
+on before I loved you, I almost menaced Heaven that it created me to
+wander alone through this desert. The brightest sun’s rays now gild
+my future, and it seems as if we were alone in paradise, and that the
+creation entire glorified my happiness, and all the voices of Nature
+shouted a greeting to you, dearest. Oh, Marie, if I lived a thousand
+years, my heart would retain its youthful love and adoration for you,
+who have saved me from myself, have freed my soul from the constraining
+fetters of a sad, joyless existence. Repose your head upon my heart, and
+may it rest there many happy years, and receive in this hour my oath to
+love, esteem, and honor you as my most precious treasure! You shall be
+wife, child, sister, and friend. My soul shall be frank and open to
+you; for you I will strive and toil, and will cherish and foster the
+happiness received from you as my most treasured gift. Give me your
+hand, Marie.”
+
+She laid it within his own strong, manly hand, gently pressing it.
+
+The large full moon, high above them, lighted up these noble faces,
+making the eyes, which were bent upon each other, more radiant. Swiftly
+the carriage rolled on, the night-breeze fanning their cheeks and waving
+back their raven curls.
+
+Moritz raised their clasped hands, and gazed at the starry heaven.
+
+“We lift them up unto Thee, O God. Thou hast heard my oath, O Eternal
+Spirit, who dwellest among the stars; receive it, and bless the woman I
+love!”
+
+“Receive also my oath, O my Maker. Regard the man to whom I have sworn
+eternal fidelity, bless him, and bless me. Let us live in love and die
+in constancy.”
+
+Moritz responded, “Amen, my beloved, amen!”
+
+They embraced each other fervently. Onward rolled the carriage through
+the tranquil, blissful night. Oh why cannot these steeds borrow wings
+from the night-wind? Why cannot the soaring spirit bear aloft its
+earthly tenement? With divine joy and heavenly confidence you gaze at
+the stars. You smilingly interchange thoughts of the blissful future,
+whilst dire misfortune approaches, and will soon seize you in its
+poisonous grasp! Do you not hear it? Does not the echo of swift-prancing
+steeds ring in your ears? Do you not hear the shrieking and calling
+after you?
+
+They listen only to the voice of tenderness speaking in their hearts,
+and would that the solemn quiet of this dialogue might not be broken by
+a loud word from their lips.
+
+The post-horn sounded! They halted at a lonely house near the highway.
+It is the station. Change horses! There is not a light to be seen.
+Three times the postilion blew a pealing blast ere they could awake the
+inmates. The window was at last opened, and a sleepy, complaining voice
+questioned the number of horses and the distance of the next post.
+
+Slowly they were brought forward, and still more slowly were they
+attached to the carriage, and all arranged. What matters it? The night
+is lovely, and like a dream it seems to remain under the starry heavens,
+spread out like a canopy above them.
+
+Does not your heart tell you that sorrow strides on like the storm? Do
+you not hear the voices still shrieking after you?
+
+The postilion mounted his horse, and again the trumpet pealed forth
+its merry air, and was answered with a shout of triumph from the swift
+pursuers.
+
+Marie raised her head from Philip’s shoulder. “What was it? Did you not
+hear it?”
+
+“What, my beloved, what should I hear? Do the stars salute you? Do the
+angels greet their sister upon earth?”
+
+“Hark! there it is again! Do you not hear it? Listen! does it not seem
+as if one called ‘Halt! halt!’”
+
+“Yes, truly, I hear it now also! What can happen, love? Why trouble
+ourselves about the outer world and the existence of other beings?”
+
+“I know not, but I am so anxious, my heart almost ceases to beat, with
+terror!”
+
+“Halt! halt!” the wind carries forward the shriek, and above their heads
+it sounds like the screeching of ravens.
+
+“Strange! For whom are they calling?” Moritz looked back along the
+highway. White and clear it lay in the moonlight, but, far in the
+distance was a black mass, taking form and shape at every moment!
+
+Horsemen! horsemen! in full speed they come!
+
+“Postilion! drive on! quick! Let the horses gallop! There is a forest
+near--drive us to that, that we may hide ourselves in the thicket!
+Onward, postilion! we are not thieves or murderers. A hundred thalers
+are yours, if you save us!”
+
+The postilion beat his horses! In full chase they followed--more and
+more distinctly were heard the curses and yells.
+
+“Oh, God in heaven, have mercy upon us in our need!”
+
+“Faster, postilion!--in mercy, faster!”
+
+“Halt! halt!--in the name of the king, halt!”
+
+This startled the postilion, and he turned to listen, and again a
+furious voice yelled, “In the name of the king, halt!”
+
+The postilion drew up. “Forgive me, sir, but I must respect the name of
+the king.”
+
+Forward galloped the horsemen.
+
+“Philip,” whispered Marie, “why do we live--why do we not die?”
+
+He folded her in his arms, and passionately kissed her, perhaps for the
+last time. “Marie, be mindful of our oath--constant unto death!”
+
+“Constant unto death!” she repeated.
+
+“Be firm and defy all the storms of life!”
+
+Marie repeated it, with heightened courage.
+
+The horsemen surrounded the carriage, the riders upon panting steeds!
+Two officers in uniform sprang to the side, laying their hands upon
+Moritz’s shoulder. “Conrector Philip Moritz, we arrest you in the
+name of the king! You are accused of eloping with a minor, and we are
+commanded to transport you to Spandau until further orders!” Upon the
+other side two other horsemen halted. The foremost was Herr Ebenstreit,
+who laid his hand upon Marie, and saw not or cared not that she
+shudderingly shrank away.
+
+“My dear Marie, I come as the ambassador of your parents, and am fully
+empowered to lead your back to your father’s house.”
+
+She answered not, but sat immovable and benumbed with terror, the tears
+rolling down her cheeks.
+
+“You arrest me in the name of the king,” cried Moritz; “I bow to the law.
+I beg only to speak to that man,” pointing to Ebenstreit, with contempt.
+“Sir, dismount, I have important business with you!”
+
+“We have nothing to say to each other,” answered Ebenstreit, calmly.
+
+“But I!” cried Moritz, springing forward, furious as a lion, “I have
+something to say to you, you rascal, and I will treat you accordingly!”
+
+He savagely tore the whip from the postilion’s hand, and struck
+Ebenstreit in the face. “Now,” cried he, triumphantly, “I have forced
+you to give me satisfaction!”
+
+The police swung themselves from their saddles, and Leberecht quickly
+dismounted. They clinched Moritz by the feet and hands. It was a
+desperate struggle, and Marie gazed at them with folded hands, praying
+without words. They seized him and held him fast with manacles. A
+shriek, and Marie sank fainting. Moritz’s head sank upon his breast,
+almost in the agony of death.
+
+“Take him to the next station, my friends,” commanded Ebenstreit, “the
+carriage is already ordered to remove him to Spandau.” He dismounted,
+and now took the place by Marie, who still lay in a dead faint.
+“Postilion, mount and turn your carriage, I retain you until the next
+station. If you drive quickly, there is a louis d’or for you.”
+
+“I will drive as if the devil were after me, sir!” shouted the
+postilion, and turned to gallop off, when Ebenstreit ordered him to
+halt, and Leberecht to get up on the box. Then turning to the officers,
+“Gentlemen,” said he, proudly, “you are witnesses to the ill-treatment
+and insults of this woman-stealer. You will certify that the blood
+flowed down my face.”
+
+“I will myself make it known before all men,” cried Moritz, with a
+contemptuous laugh. “I have insulted you and branded you.”
+
+“We will give our evidence,” respectfully replied the officers. “As soon
+as we have delivered our prisoner at Spandau, we will announce ourselves
+to you.”
+
+“Then you will receive from me the promised reward of a hundred thalers.
+If you hush up the entire adventure, so that it is not noised about,
+after three months, still another hundred.”
+
+“We will be silent, Herr Ebenstreit.”
+
+“I believe you; a hundred thalers is a pretty sum. Forward, Leberecht,
+make the postilion push on, that we may arrive in Berlin before
+daybreak, and no one know of this abominable affair.”
+
+The postilion laughed with delight, at the thought of the louis d’or.
+Upon the box sat Leberecht, a smile of malicious triumph upon his
+face. “This has been a lucky night,” said he; “we have all done a good
+business, but I am the most fortunate, with my three thousand thalers
+and a fine place. I wish he had waited an hour later, and then I should
+have had another thousand!”
+
+Ebenstreit sat with triumphant smile also, by his betrothed. “Money is
+the king of the world--with it one can accomplish all things,” said he
+to himself; “if I had been a poor fellow, the general would not have
+chosen me, nor the king have given me a title, nor could I have won back
+my beautiful bride. Money gives position, and I hope will give me the
+power to revenge myself for the pain in my face.” He turned menacingly
+toward Moritz, who saw it not.
+
+With bowed head, speechless, as if numb with the horror of his
+misfortune, he rode with fettered hands between the two officers,
+incapable of fleeing, as they had even bound a cord around his arms,
+each end held fast by one of the riders.
+
+The stars and the moon shone down upon him as brightly beautiful as
+an hour previous. Oh, Marie, you were right, falling stars betoken
+misfortune! Your star has fallen!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE SACRIFICE.
+
+
+Since that painful night, four weeks had passed, four long ones to poor
+old Trude. To her beloved child they had fled in happy unconsciousness.
+In the delirium of fever, her thoughts wandered to her lover, always
+dwelling upon her hopes and happiness. In the intervals of reason she
+asked for him with fearful excitement and anxiety, then again her mind
+was clouded, and the cry of anguish was changed into a smile.
+
+Then came the days of convalescence and the return to consciousness, and
+with it the mourning over crushed hopes. Slowly had Trude, the faithful
+nurse, who watched by her bedside day and night, answered her excited
+questions, and to her little by little the circumstances of the
+elopement--how Leberecht had played the eavesdropper and sold Marie’s
+secret for gold; how he had previously arranged to pursue them,
+informing the police, ordering the horses, and sending forward a courier
+to provide fresh relays at every station.
+
+Trude depicted the anger of her father and the threats of her mother to
+send her to prison. But before she could execute her purpose, Ebenstreit
+had brought home the unconscious child, and she herself had lifted her
+from the carriage and borne her, with the aid of her mistress, to her
+own little attic room.
+
+Marie listened to these relations with a gloomy calmness and a defiant
+sorrow. Illness had wrought a peculiar change in her mind, and hardened
+the gentle, tender feelings of the young girl. Grief had steeled her
+soul, benumbed her heart, and she had risen from her couch as one born
+anew to grief and torture. Her present situation and lost happiness had
+changed the young, loving, tenderly-sensitive maiden to the
+courageous, energetic, and defiant woman, who recognized a future of
+self-renunciation, combat, and resignation.
+
+Trude observed these changes with disquietude and care. She wished Marie
+would only once complain, or burst into tears. After the first storm of
+despair had passed, the tears refused to flow, and her eyes were bright
+and undimmed. Only once had profound emotion been awakened, as Trude
+asked her if she had forgotten her unhappy lover, and cared no more to
+learn his fate. It had the desired effect.
+
+A deathly paleness overspread her delicate, transparent cheek. “I know
+how he is,” she said, turning away her face, “I realize his sufferings
+by my own. We are miserable, lost--and no hope but in death. Ere this
+comes, there is a desert to traverse in heat, and dust, and storm, and
+frost, alone, without consolation or support. Hush, Trude! do not seek
+to revive miserable hopes. I know my fate, and I will endure it. Tell me
+what you know about him? Where is he? Have they accused him? Speak! do
+not fear to tell me every thing!” But fearing herself, she threw her
+handkerchief quickly over her face, and sat with it covered whilst Trude
+spoke.
+
+“I know but little of poor, dear Moritz. He has never returned to
+his lodgings. A day or two after that night, two officers sealed his
+effects, and took away his clothes. His hostess has not the least
+suspicion of the mysterious disappearance of her otherwise quiet,
+regular lodger. The secret of the elopement has been carefully guarded,
+as no one of the neighbors know it, and there is no gossip about you and
+Moritz. Those who think he is travelling are not surprised at his having
+left without taking leave, as they say he was accustomed to do so. But,”
+ continued Trude, in a lower tone, “Herr Gedicke looked very sad and
+grave, as I asked for the Conrector Moritz. ‘He has disappeared,’ he
+sighed, ‘and I know not if we shall ever see him again.’ ‘Oh, Jemima!’ I
+screamed, ‘you do not think that he has committed a self-injury!’ ‘No,’
+said the director, ‘not he himself, he is too honorable a man. Others
+have ill-treated him and made him unhappy for life.’ It was in vain to
+ask further; he knew not or he would not say any thing. I believe your
+family know where poor Moritz is, for your mother speaks of him as one
+in the penitentiary, and quite triumphantly she told me yesterday that
+the king, in his new book of laws, had expressly condemned the person
+who elopes with a minor to be sent to the house of correction for ten
+years, and then she laughed so cruelly, that I trembled to hear her.”
+
+As Trude related this, she searchingly glanced at Marie to observe the
+effect of her words, hoping to see her weep or complain and that, at
+last, grief would melt the icy crust around her heart.
+
+But Marie sat motionless and without uttering a sound--not a sigh or a
+moan escaped her. After a long silence, when her grief was too deep for
+tears, she drew the handkerchief from her face, the pallor and rigidity
+of which startled Trude.
+
+She sprang forward, folding her in her arms. “Marie, child of my heart,
+do weep, do complain! I know that he loved you dearly, and deserves that
+you should mourn for him. Have you no more confidence, though, in your
+old Trude? Is she no longer worthy to share your grief?”
+
+Marie laid her languid head upon the bosom of her faithful nurse; a
+long-drawn, piercing cry of anguish was her response, she trembled
+violently, and the tears ran down her cheeks.
+
+Trude raised her eyes to heaven, murmuring, “I thank thee, O Lord! Her
+heart is not dead! It lives, for it suffers!”
+
+“It suffers,” groaned Marie, “the anguish of death.”
+
+This passionate outburst of feeling was of but short duration. Her tears
+were dried, and her quivering face assumed its usually calm expression.
+
+“Trude,” said she, gently, continuing to repose upon her bosom, “I am
+so wretched that words cannot express it or tears soothe it. If I should
+give myself up to sorrow and mourning I should die, and that cannot be,
+for I must live to wait for him--to rescue him. How I know not yet;
+my thoughts and resolutions are so confused that they flicker like the
+ignes fatui. I will force my mind to be calm, and these wandering lights
+shall unite in one glowing flame to destroy the walls and obstructions
+which confine him. He is a prisoner; I feel it in my heart, and I must
+live to free him. This is my task, and I will accomplish it; therefore
+I would be composed, and strong in myself. Wonder not that I weep or
+complain no more, and do not refer to my misfortune. I should die if
+I did not suppress this anguish, and I would become strong and active.
+Seek not to enfeeble me, but aid me to harden myself; refrain from
+complaint, that I may be silent. I think only of him, and I ask nothing
+further than to yield my life to free him. Let us never speak of it
+again, for I feel that all the firmness which I had gained has been
+swept from me in this giving way, and that I must begin anew.”
+
+From this hour she commenced to build, and rose upon her grief as on a
+column which projects toward heaven; leaned upon it, and received, as
+Brisaeus from the earth, the power of life and action. She had already
+so conquered herself as to be able to leave her own quiet room, and
+descend to that of her parents. There she would sit calmly for hours,
+listening attentively to the conversation, hoping to catch some word
+that might give her a clew.
+
+They avoided every exciting topic, and were milder and more thoughtful
+for her. Even her mother made no reproaches, and never alluded to
+the past, because she feared to delay her recovery, and remove the
+longed-for goal in hindering the marriage with Ebenstreit. The latter
+carefully avoided troubling her by his presence; when he heard Marie’s
+step in the anteroom, who descended at a certain hour every day, he
+withdrew by the other entrance.
+
+“Who goes out every time I come in?” asked Marie, one day as she
+appeared in the sitting-room.
+
+The general coughed with embarrassment, and glanced anxiously at
+his wife, whose eyes rested upon her daughter with a cold, searching
+expression. Their eyes met, and were riveted upon each other. A cold,
+cruel smile played around the thin, bloodless lips of the mother as she
+recognized the defiance and firmness in her child, and felt that she had
+recovered.
+
+“It is your betrothed,” she answered, “our dear Ebenstreit--a good,
+generous, and self-sacrificing son, for whom we thank God every day, who
+wishes to spare you the annoyance of seeing him.”
+
+“He need not inconvenience himself on my account. Nothing excites or
+wounds my feelings now. It would be a pity for your heartless, thankless
+daughter to deprive you of the society of your dear son. Let him remain;
+it is not necessary for us to notice one another.”
+
+Her parents regarded each other astonished, and, as she ceased, they
+still listened to the dying tones of her voice, which sounded so
+strangely to them. “She is much changed,” mumbled the general to
+himself. “She does not seem the same person, she is so haughty and
+majestic. She might well inspire fear.”
+
+The following day, as Marie entered the room, Ebenstreit was there.
+He approached her, extending both hands smiling, and greeting her with
+tender words, rejoicing at her recovery.
+
+She took no notice of his friendly demonstrations, but coldly and
+harshly regarded his smiling face, and particularly the broad, blood-red
+scar which ran from forehead to chin. Then suddenly her face lighted up,
+and an expression of savage triumph shot from her eyes. “How disfigured
+you look,” she cried exultingly. “Where did you get that scar?”
+
+“You know well, Marie,” he murmured, gloomily.
+
+“Yes,” she cried, triumphantly. “I know it. He branded you, and you will
+wear this mark before God and man as long as you live.”
+
+“You are very cruel to remind me of it, Marie,” he softly whispered.
+
+She laughed aloud so wild and savagely, that even her mother was
+startled. “Cruel--I cruel!” she cried. “Ah, sir, it becomes you indeed
+to accuse me of it!”
+
+Trude entered at this instant, pale and excited.
+
+“What is the matter?”
+
+“There is some one here who wishes to speak with you, Marie; he has
+something very important to tell you.”
+
+“How dare you announce any one without my permission?” cried Frau von
+Werrig.
+
+“Silence, mother!--if I may be allowed, let us hear who it is.--Speak,
+dear Trude, who is it?”
+
+“It is the Director Gedicke from the Gray Cloister,” said Trude, with
+quivering voice.
+
+Marie was startled--a glowing red overspread her cheeks, and she was
+obliged to lean against a chair for support.
+
+“I forbid you to receive him,” said her mother.
+
+She suddenly ceased, and stared at the door, which opened at that
+moment, the tall, dignified form of a venerable old man appearing.
+
+“Pardon me, sir,” said he, with a cold, reserved manner, “if I enter
+before I receive permission. The command of the king, to which I believe
+we all yield without resistance, empowers me to do so.”
+
+“How, sir, you come by the king’s order?” asked the general, who rose
+with difficulty. “Has his majesty given you a message for General von
+Leuthen?”
+
+“No, general, I come with a communication from his majesty to Fraulein
+von Leuthen, the betrothed of Herr Ebenstreit, and the order runs to
+deliver the same personally and without witnesses.”
+
+“Professor,” cried the mother, shrugging her shoulders, “you mistake
+us for very innocent people, if you suppose we believe this silly
+invention, and that you can gain a secret conversation by a ruse with
+our daughter. You are the director of the gymnasium, and naturally the
+friend of Conrector Moritz. In his name you will speak, and bring a
+secret message. Very sly, indeed, very sly, but it will not succeed.”
+
+For response, the director drew two large folded documents from his
+pocket, approaching the general. “Do you recognize this seal?” he asked.
+
+“Yes,” solemnly answered the general; “it is the royal seal from the
+king’s private cabinet.”
+
+“Read the address upon this, and the unopened letter.”
+
+“Truly, the latter is directed to my daughter, and the other to
+Professor Gedicke.”
+
+Herr Gedicke opened the letter, asking the general if he could recognize
+the king’s handwriting.
+
+“Yes,” he answered, “I know it well.”
+
+“Have the goodness to read the lines upon the margin,” mid the
+professor, unfolding the letter, so that he could only read those
+referred to.
+
+The general read: “Professor Gedicke shall go himself to Fraulein von
+Leuthen, and bring her to reason, reading the document to her without
+witnesses. I wish this affair to come to an end. Teach Mamselle mores!
+mores! mores! FREDERICK.”
+
+“You have heard the royal command, ladies and gentlemen; will you
+respect it?” said the professor, turning around with an air of proud
+satisfaction.
+
+“My dear son-in-law,” said the general, solemnly, “it is a royal
+command; give me your arm, as you know I am feeble; and you, my wife,
+take my other arm, and we will go into the next room. Hush! not a
+word--we have only to obey, and not reason.”
+
+He seized his wife’s hand hastily and firmly, that she should not slip
+away, and winked to Ebenstreit, upon whose support he crossed the room,
+drawing his wife with him, and pushing open the door of the next with
+his foot.
+
+Marie had stood during the whole transaction pale and rigid in the
+centre of the room, looking haughty and defiant as long as her parents
+and Herr Ebenstreit were present. Now, as the door closed, life
+and action were visible in this marble form; she rushed to the old
+gentleman, scarce respiring, and looking up at his dignified, sad face,
+asked: “Is he living? Tell me only this, or is he ill?”
+
+“Yes, he lives, he does not suffer from bodily ills, but the sickness of
+the soul.”
+
+“And do not I also?” asked she, with quivering voice. “Oh! I know what
+he suffers, as we are wretched from the same cause. But tell me, have
+you seen him?”
+
+“Yes, Fraulein, I have.”
+
+“Where is he? Where did you see him?”
+
+“In prison!”
+
+Marie grew paler, and retreated, shuddering. The director continued: “In
+a dark, damp prison at Spandau. The poor fellow has been there for two
+months without air, light, or occupation, and his only society is his
+own revengeful thoughts and angry love-complaints.”
+
+Marie gave one hollow moan, covering her corpse-like face with her
+hands.
+
+“In this abode of torture, in this dwelling of the damned, he must
+remain ten long years, if death does not release him?”
+
+“What did you say?” she groaned. “Ten long years? Have they condemned
+him?”
+
+“Yes, he was guilty of a great crime--eloping with a minor--who, with
+the king’s consent, and that of her parents, was betrothed to another.
+Read the sentence of the court, which was forwarded to me as the head
+of the college where Moritz was employed. See, here is the king’s
+signature, which affirms the sentence, rendering it legal, and here upon
+the margin are the lines your father read.”
+
+Trembling, Marie perused the contents. “Ten years in the house of
+correction!” she murmured. “On my account condemned to a living death!
+No, no, it is impossible! It cannot be! Ten years of the best part of
+life! He condemned as a criminal! I will go to the king. I will throw
+myself at his feet, imploring for mercy. I am the guilty one--I alone!
+They should judge me, and send me to the penitentiary! I will go to the
+king! He must and will hear me!”
+
+“He will not,” sighed the director. “Listen to me, poor child! As I
+heard the sentence, I felt it my duty to summon all my powers to rescue
+Moritz, for I love him as a son, and had set my hopes upon him.”
+
+“I thank you for this kind word,” said Marie, seizing the hand of the
+old man, and pressing it to her lips.
+
+“I went immediately to Minister von Herzberg, and, upon his advice,
+as he explained to me the king might lighten his punishment, I betook
+myself to Frederick’s winter-quarters at Breslau.”
+
+“You noble, generous man, I shall love you for it as long as I live. Did
+you speak with the king?”
+
+“Yes, and every thing that my heart or mind could inspire, to excuse and
+justify my unhappy friend, I have said--but all in vain. The king was
+much embittered, because he had had the grace to grant him an audience,
+and explain the impossibility of the fulfilment of his petition. I did
+not cease begging and imploring, until I softened the generous heart of
+the king.”
+
+“Has he pardoned Moritz?” Marie asked, with brightening hopes.
+
+“Under certain conditions he will allow that he should escape secretly
+from prison. They are formally written, and if Moritz consents and binds
+himself by oath, he will not only be freed, but provided with means to
+go to England, and receive immediately an appointment as translator to
+the Prussian embassy at London.”
+
+“What are the conditions, sir?”
+
+“They are, first, that Moritz shall by oath renounce every wish and
+thought of uniting himself with Fraulein von Leuthen; secondly, that
+before he leaves the prison, he shall write to the young lady, in which
+he shall solemnly release her, and enjoin it upon her as a duty to
+accept the hand of the man to whom her parents have betrothed her. These
+were the conditions, and the king commanded me to go to Spandau, and
+with sensible representations, to confer with Moritz, and persuade him
+to accept them, and assure himself of freedom, and an honorable future,
+free from care.”
+
+“You saw Moritz?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Did you communicate the conditions?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And he?”
+
+“He refused, with rage and indignation!”
+
+“He refused?” cried Marie, joyfully. “Oh, my dear Philip, I thank you.
+You love me truly and faithfully. Your glorious example shall inspire me
+to be as firm as you.”
+
+“Unhappy child, you know not what you are saying!” cried the director,
+sadly. “If you really love him, you could not follow his example. Read
+what the king has written.”
+
+She took, in breathless silence, the document, and broke the seal,
+unfolding the paper, but her hand shook it so violently, that she could
+not distinguish the words.
+
+She returned it to the director. “Read it, I cannot,” she said, and
+sank kneeling, looking up to the old man with unspeakable anguish, and
+listening to every word that fell from his lips. It ran thus:
+
+“His majesty announces to Mademoiselle Marie von Leuthen that he is
+exceedingly indignant at her improper and undutiful conduct, which does
+not at all become a maiden loving of honor, and particularly a noble
+one. His majesty ennobled her father for a brave deed, and he is angry
+that the daughter should bring shame upon the title, in giving way,
+not only to a passion which is beneath her, but is so little mindful of
+morality as to flee from the paternal house, at night, in an improper
+manner, with a man whose wife, according to the command of the king
+and the will of her father, she could never be. If his majesty did not
+respect the former service of her father, and the new title, he would
+send the daughter to the house of correction, and punish her according
+to the law. But he will leave her to the reproaches of conscience, and
+let the weight of the law fall upon her partner in guilt, Philip Moritz.
+He is rightly sentenced to ten years in the house of correction, and he
+will not be released one year or one day from the same, as he is guilty
+of a great crime, and his sentence is just.”
+
+“Just!” shrieked Marie, in anguish--“ten years just?”
+
+The director continued to read: “His majesty will propose a last
+opportunity to the obstinate and inconsiderate young lady to reinstate
+her own honor, and release at the same time Conrector Moritz. His
+majesty has personal knowledge of the latter, and respects his scholarly
+attainments and capability and would bring an end to this affair for the
+general good. If mademoiselle, as becomes an honorable young woman,
+and an obedient daughter, follows the wishes of her father, and without
+delay marries Herr Ebenstreit, and leads a respectable life with him,
+the same hour of the ceremony Conrector Moritz shall be released, and a
+fit position be created for him. This is the final decision of the king.
+If the daughter does not submit in perfect obedience, she will burden
+her conscience with a great crime, and thank herself for Moritz’s
+unfortunate fate. His majesty will be immediately informed of her
+decision. If she listens to reason, to morality, and affection, she will
+submit to the proposition which Director Gedicke is commissioned to make
+known to her, and announce to her parents in his presence that she will
+obediently follow their commands, Conrector Moritz will be at once set
+at liberty; otherwise he will be sent to Brandenburg to the house of
+correction. This is the unalterable will of the king. Signed, in the
+name of the king, FREDERICK.”
+
+“Now decide, my child,” continued the director, after a solemn pause. “I
+know nothing to add to this royal writing. If it has not itself spoken
+to your heart, your reason and your honor, words are useless.”
+
+“O God, it is cruel--it is terrible!” cried Marie. “Shall I break my
+oath of constancy, becoming faithless, and suffer him to curse me, for
+he will never pardon me, but despise me!”
+
+She sprang up like a tigress, with her eyes flashing. “Oh,” cried she,
+“he may even believe that I have been enticed by riches, by a brilliant
+future! No--no! I cannot consent! May God have mercy on me if the king
+will not! I will not break my oath! No one but Moritz shall ever be my
+husband!”
+
+“Unhappy girl,” cried the old man, sadly, “I will give you one last
+inducement. I know not whether you have any knowledge of Moritz’s
+past life, so tried and painful, which has made him easily excited and
+eccentric. A danger menaces him worse than imprisonment or death. His
+unaccustomed life, and the solitude of his dark, damp prison, is
+causing a fearful excitement in him. He is habituated to intellectual
+occupation. When he is obliged to put on the prisoner’s jacket in the
+house of correction and spin wool, it will not kill him--it will make
+him mad!”
+
+A piercing cry was Marie’s answer. “That is not true--it is impossible.
+He crazy!--you only say that to compel me to do what you will. His
+bright mind could not be obscured through the severest proofs.”
+
+“You do not believe me? You think that an old man, with gray hair, and
+one foot in the grave, and who loves Moritz, could tell you a shameful
+untruth! I swear to you by the heads of my children, by all that is
+holy, that Moritz already suffers from an excitement of the brain; and
+if he does not soon have liberty and mental occupation, it is almost
+certain that he will become insane.”
+
+Almost convulsed with anguish, Marie seized the old man’s hand with
+fierce passion. “He shall not be crazed,” she shrieked. “He shall not
+suffer--he shall not be imprisoned and buried in the house of correction
+on my account. I will rescue him--I and my love! I am prepared to do
+what the king commands! I will--marry the man--which--my parents have
+chosen. But--tell me, will he then be free?”
+
+“To-day even--in three hours, my poor child!”
+
+“Free! And I shall have saved him! Tell me what I have to do. What is
+the king’s will?”
+
+“First sign this document,” said the director, as he drew a second
+paper. “It runs thus: ‘I, Marie von Leuthen, that of my own free will
+and consent I will renounce every other engagement, and will marry Herr
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen, and be a faithful wife to him. I witness with my
+signature the same.’”
+
+“Give it to me quickly,” she gasped. “I will sign it! He must be free!
+He shall not go mad!”
+
+She rapidly signed the paper. “Here is my sentence of death! But he will
+live! Take it!”
+
+“My child,” cried the old man, deeply agitated, “God will be mindful of
+this sacrifice, and in the hour of death it will beam brightly upon you.
+You have by this act rescued a noble and excellent being, and when he
+wins fame from science and art he will owe to you alone the gratitude.”
+
+“He shall not thank me!” she whispered. “He shall live and--if he can be
+happy!--this is all that I ask for! What is there further to be done?”
+
+“To announce to your parents in my presence that you will marry Herr
+Ebenstreit, and let the ceremony take place as soon as possible.”
+
+“You swear that he shall then be released? You are an old man--reflect
+well; you swear to me that as soon as the marriage takes place, Philip
+Moritz will be free this very day and that he will be reinstated in an
+honorable, active occupation?”
+
+“I swear it to you upon my word of honor, by my hope of reward from
+above.”
+
+“I believe you. Call my parents. But first--you are a father, and love
+your children well. I have never had a father who loved me, or ever laid
+his hand upon my head to bless me. You say that you love Moritz as a
+son! Oh, love me for a moment as your daughter, and bless me!”
+
+The old man folded her in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks.
+“God bless you, my daughter, as I bless you!”
+
+“I dare not tarry,” she shuddered. “Let my parents enter.”
+
+Slowly the venerable man traversed the room. Marie pressed her hands
+to her heart, looking to heaven. As the door opened, and the general
+entered, leaning upon Ebenstreit’s arm, followed by his wife, Marie
+approached them with a haughty, determined manner, who regarded her with
+astonishment.
+
+“Father,” she said, slowly and calmly, “I am ready to follow your
+wishes. Send for the clergyman: I consent to marry this man to-day, upon
+one condition.”
+
+“Make it known, my dear Marie. Name your condition. I will joyfully
+fulfil it,” said Ebenstreit.
+
+“I demand that we leave to-day for the East, to go to
+Egypt--Palestine--and remain away from this place for years. Are you
+agreed to it?”
+
+“To all that which my dear Marie wishes.”
+
+“You can now weave the bridal-wreath in my hair, mother. I consent to
+the marriage.”
+
+Three hours later the preparations were completed. Every thing had
+awaited this for three months.
+
+In the sitting-room, the decorators had quickly built a marriage-altar,
+and ornamented the walls with garlands of flowers, with festoons of
+gauze and silk, with flags and standards. The mother wore the costly
+silk which her rich son-in-law had honored her with for the occasion,
+and also adorned herself with the gold ornaments which were equally his
+gift. The father wore his gold-embroidered uniform, and imagined himself
+a stately figure, as the gout left him the use of his limbs this day.
+
+The invited witnesses began to assemble. Just then Ebenstreit von
+Leuthen drove up in the handsome travelling-carriage, which was a
+wedding-gift to his wife, and excited the admiration of the numerous
+street public.
+
+Old Trude, in her simple dark Sunday dress, had awaited the appearance
+of the bridegroom, and went to announce his arrival to the bride.
+
+Marie was in her little garret-room, so unlike in its present appearance
+to its former simplicity and comfort--as unlike as the occupant to the
+rosy, smiling young girl, who, yonder by the little brown table in the
+window-niche, taught her pupils, or with busy, skilful hands made the
+loveliest flowers, the income of which she gave to her parents, joyfully
+and although she never received thanks or recognition for the same. Now
+the same little table was covered with morocco cases, whose half-open
+covers revealed brilliant ornaments, laces, and sweet perfumes; superb
+silk dresses, cloaks, and shawls, ornamented with lace, lay about upon
+the bed and chairs.
+
+Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen had truly given his bride a princely dowry,
+and her mother had spread the things around room.
+
+Since Marie gave her consent to the marriage, she had followed out their
+wishes without opposition. She wore a white satin dress, covered with
+gold lace, her arms, neck, and ears, adorned with diamonds. The coiffeur
+had powdered and arranged her hair, without her ever casting a glance
+into the Psyche-mirror which her betrothed had had the gallantry to send
+to her room. She let him arrange the costly bridal veil; but when he
+would place the crown of myrtle, she waved him back.
+
+“Your work is finished,” she said; “my mother will place that, I thank
+you.”
+
+As Trude entered, Marie was standing in the centre of the room,
+regarding it with sinister, angry looks.
+
+“There you are, Trude,” she said, “I am glad to see you a moment alone,
+for I have something to tell you. I have spoken with my future husband,
+demanding that you live with me as long as I live. Immediately after the
+ceremony you will go to my future home and remain there as house-keeper
+during my absence.”
+
+Sadly the old woman shook her head. “No, that is too important a place
+for me. I will not lead a lazy life, and play the fine woman. I was made
+to work with my hands.”
+
+“Do what you will in the house,” answered Marie. “Only promise me that
+you will not leave me, and when I return that I shall find you there. If
+you leave me, I will never come back. Promise me!”
+
+“Then I will promise you, my poor child,” sighed Trude.
+
+Marie laughed scornfully. “You call me poor--do you not see I am rich? I
+carry a fortune about my neck. Go, do not bewail me--I am rich!”
+
+“Marie, do not laugh so, it makes me feel badly,” whispered the old
+woman. “I came to tell you the bridegroom and the clergyman are there.”
+
+“The time has arrived for the marriage of the rich and happy bride. Go,
+Trude, beg my mother to come up and adorn me with the myrtle-wreath.”
+
+“Dear Marie, can I not do it?” asked Trude, with quivering voice.
+
+“No, not you; touch not the fatal wreath! You have no part in that! Call
+my mother--it is time!”
+
+Trude turned sadly toward the door, Marie glancing after her, and
+calling her back with gentle tone.
+
+“Trude, my dear, faithful mother, kiss me once more.” She threw her
+arms around Marie’s neck and imprinted a loving kiss upon her forehead,
+weeping. “Now go, Trude--we must not give way; you know me; you well
+understand my feelings, and see into my heart.”
+
+The old woman went out, drying her eyes. Marie uttered her last
+farewell. “With you the past goes forth, with you my youth and hope!
+When the door again opens, my future enters a strange, fearful life. Woe
+to those who have prepared it for me--woe to those who have so cruelly
+treated me! They will yet see what they have done. The good angel is
+extinct within me. Wicked demons will now assume their over me. I will
+have no pity--I will revenge myself; that I swear to Moritz!”
+
+Her mother rustled in, clothed in her splendid wedding-garments. “Did
+you send for me, dear Marie?” she whispered.
+
+“Yes, mother--I beg you to put on my myrtle-wreath.”
+
+“How! have you no endearment for me?” she asked, smilingly. “Why do you
+say ‘you’ instead of ‘thou?’”
+
+“It is better so, mother,” she coldly answered. “Will you adorn me with
+the bridal-wreath?”
+
+“Willingly, my dear child; it is very beautiful and becoming.”
+
+“Do you realize, mother, what you are doing? You place the wreath to
+consecrate me to an inconsolably unhappy life with the man that I hate
+and despise!”
+
+“My dear child, I know that you think so to-day; but you will soon
+change, and find that wealth is a supportable misfortune.”
+
+“Mother, one day you will recall these words. Crown me for the hated
+bridal. The sacrifice is prepared!”
+
+
+
+
+BOOK IV. THE VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. OLD FRITZ.
+
+
+The war terminated, the hostile armies returned to their different
+German countries. Frederick the Great had gained his point, forcing
+Austria to renounce the possession of Bavaria. The Prince of
+Zweibruecken had been solemnly recognized by him as the rightful heir
+to the electorate, and the lawful ruler and possessor of Bavaria. The
+Emperor Joseph had submitted with profound regret and bitter animosity
+to the will of his mother, the reigning empress, and consented to the
+peace negotiations of Baron von Thugut. Having signed the document of
+the same, in his quality of co-regent, he angrily threw aside the pen,
+casting a furious glance at the hard, impenetrable face of Thugut,
+saying: “Tell her majesty that I have accomplished my last act as
+co-regent, and I now abdicate. From henceforth I will still lie her
+obedient son, but no submissive joint ruler, to only follow devotedly
+her imperial will. Therefore I resign, and never will trouble myself in
+future about the acts of the government.” The emperor kept his word. He
+retired, piqued, into solitude, wounded in the depths of his soul, and
+afterward travelled, leaving the government entirely to the empress and
+her pious confessors.
+
+Bavaria was rescued! It owed its existence to the watchfulness,
+sagacity, and disinterested aid of Prussia’s great king. The Elector
+Maximilian vowed in his delight that he, as well as his successors and
+heirs, would never forget that Bavaria must ascribe its continuance
+to Prussia alone, and therefore the gratitude of the princes of this
+electorate could not and never would be extinguished toward the royal
+house of Prussia. Frederick received these overflowing acknowledgments
+with the calmness of a philosopher and the smile of a skeptic. He
+understood mankind sufficiently to know what to expect from their oaths;
+to know that in the course of time there is nothing more oppressive and
+intolerable than gratitude, that it soon becomes a burden which they
+would gladly throw off their bent shoulders at any price, and become
+the enemy of him to whom they had sworn eternal thankfulness. Frederick
+regarded these oaths of Bavaria not as a security for the future, but as
+a payment on account of the past.
+
+“I did not go forth to render the Bavarian princes indebted to me,” said
+he, to his only confidante, Count Herzberg, as he brought to him, at
+Sans-Souci, the renewed expression of thanks of the prince elector. “I
+would only protect Germany against Austria’s grasp, and preserve the
+equilibrium of the German empire. Believe me, the house of Hapsburg is
+a dangerous enemy for the little German principalities, and if my
+successor does not bear it in mind, and guard himself against their
+flatteries and cat’s-paws, Austria will fleece him as the cat the mouse
+who is enticed by the odor of the bacon. Prussia shall be neither a
+mouse in the German empire, nor serve as a roast for Austria. But she
+shall be a well-trained shepherd’s dog for the dear, patient herd, and
+take care that none go astray and are lost.”
+
+“Your majesty has drawn an unfortunate character for the future of our
+country,” sighed Herzberg, thoughtfully, “and I must grant that it
+is sketched with severe but correct outlines so it follows that poor
+Germany has many combats and hardships in store.”
+
+“What do you mean?” asked the king. “What characteristic did I name?”
+
+“Your majesty pointed out Austria as the cat watching for prey in
+Germany. Prussia, on the contrary, as the shepherd’s dog, which should
+watch the native herd, and occasionally bite those who wander from the
+flock. The comparison is apt, and clearly exposes the natural hostility
+of the two nations. Nature has placed the cat and the dog in eternal
+enmity, and there is no compromise to be thought of, to say nothing of
+friendship. There may, now and then, be a truce; the cat may draw in
+her claws, and the dog may cease to howl and growl, but the combat will
+renew itself, and never end, but in the death of one party, and the
+victorious triumph of the other.”
+
+“You are right,” said the king, nodding slightly. “From this natural
+hostility will proceed many combats and storms for our land, and much
+blood will be shed on its account. Let us look to the future, and try to
+ward off the coming evil, in erecting high barriers against the cat-like
+springs of the enemy. I will think out a security for Germany. But
+first, mon cher ami, we have to care for our own country and people.
+The war has greatly injured my poor subjects. Industry is prostrated
+and prosperity disturbed. We must seek new sources of acquisition, and
+sustain those which are exhausted. For this, we must think of fresh
+taxes, and other sources of income.”
+
+“Sire,” said Herzberg, shrugging his shoulders, “the taxes are already
+so heavy that it will be difficult to increase them.”
+
+“You are greatly mistaken,” cried the king, with increased animation. “I
+will impose a tax upon those things which are now exempt, and establish
+a capable administration for the purpose. Bread, flour, meat, and beer,
+the sustenance of the poor, shall remain as they are, for I will not
+that they shall pay more. But tobacco, coffee, and tea, are superfluous
+things, which the prosperous and rich consume. Whoever will smoke, and
+drink tea or coffee, can and shall pay for being a gourmand!”
+
+“I beg pardon, but it is just these taxes which will create the greatest
+discontent,” answered Herzberg. “Your majesty will remember that the
+duty on coffee was complained of and criticised by every one, and
+the poor people grumbled more than all. In spite of the resistance of
+government, coffee has become, more and more, a means of nourishment and
+refreshment for the lower class.”
+
+“I will teach them to renounce it,” cried the king, striking the table
+violently with his staff “I will not suffer so much money to go out of
+the country for this abominable beverage! My people shall re-learn to
+drink their beer, instead of this infamous stuff, as I had to do when
+a young man. What was good enough for the crown prince of Prussia, will
+to-day suffice for his subjects. I tell you, Herzberg, I will teach them
+to drink their beer, or pay dearly for this bad, foreign stuff. Then we
+will see which will conquer, Prussian beer or foreign coffee.”
+
+“It is possible that the former will be victorious on account of
+their poverty and the high duties; but in any case the people will be
+discontented, and grumble against your majesty.”
+
+“Do you suppose that I care for that?” asked the king, with a quick,
+fiery glance at the calm, earnest face of his confidant. “Do you think
+that I care for the applause of the people, or trouble myself about
+their complaints? I regard their shouting or their grumbling about as
+much as the humming or buzzing of a fly upon the wall. If it dares to
+light upon my nose, I brush it off; and if I can, I catch it. Beyond
+that, it is its nature to hum and buzz. Herzberg, you understand that if
+a ruler should listen to the praises or discontent of his subjects, he
+would soon be a lost man, and would not know his own mind. The people
+are changeable as the weather; to-morrow they crush under their feet
+what to-day they bore aloft, and praise one day what they stone the
+next. Do not talk to me about the people! I know this childish, foolish
+mass, and he is lost who counts upon their favor. It is all the same
+to me whether they like or hate me. I shall always do my duty to my
+subjects according to the best of my knowledge and ability, as it
+becomes an honorable and faithful officer. As the chief and most
+responsible servant of my kingdom, I should be mindful to increase
+her income and diminish her expenses--to lay taxes upon the rich, and
+lighten them for the poor. This is my task, and I will fulfil it so long
+as I live!”
+
+“Oh,” cried Herzberg, with enthusiasm, “would that the entire nation
+might hear these words, and engrave them upon their hearts!”
+
+“Why that, mon cher?” asked Frederick, shrugging his shoulders. “I do
+not ask to be deified; my subjects are perfectly welcome to discuss
+my acts, so long as they pay me punctually, and order and quiet are
+respected and preserved.”
+
+“All that is done,” said Herzberg, joyfully. “The machine of state is so
+well arranged, that she has fulfilled her duty during the war, and will
+soon reestablish prosperity.”
+
+“Particularly,” cried the king, “if we rightly understand the art of
+agriculture. In the end every thing depends upon him who best cultivates
+his field. This is the highest art, for without it there would be no
+merchants, courtiers, kings, poets, or philosophers. The productions
+of the earth are the truest riches. He who improves his ground, brings
+waste land under the plough, drains the swamps, makes the most glorious
+conquests over barbarism.”
+
+“And those are also conquerors, sire,” said Herzberg, smiling, “who
+drain the mental swamps, and improve the waste mental ground. Such are
+those who increase the schools and instruct the people. I have caused
+the school authorities to report to me, according to your majesty’s
+command. A happy progress has been noticed everywhere. Cultivation
+and education are advancing; and since our teachers have adopted the
+principles of Rousseau, a more humane spirit is perceptible throughout
+our schools.”
+
+“What principle do we owe to Jean Jacques?” asked the king.
+
+“Sire, the principle that man is good by nature!”
+
+“Ah, mon cher, who says that knows but little of the abominable race to
+which we belong!” [Footnote: The king’s words.--See “Prussia.” vol. iv.,
+p. 221.]
+
+“Do you not believe in this doctrine?” asked Herzberg.
+
+The king raised his large blue eyes musingly to the busts placed upon
+the bookcases, and around the walls. They lingered long upon those of
+Homer, Plato, and D’Alembert; then turned to that of Voltaire, with its
+satyr-like face. “No, I do not believe it,” he sadly responded. “Mankind
+is an ignoble race; still one must love them, for among the wicked are
+always some worthy ones, whose light beams so brightly clear, that they
+change night into day. During my life I have learned to know many base,
+miserable creatures, but I have become reconciled to them, as I have
+also found some who were virtuous and excellent--some who were noble
+and beautiful, as the grains of wheat among the chaff. You belong to the
+latter, my Herzberg; and as in heaven many unjust will be forgiven
+for one just person, so will I upon earth forgive on your account the
+Trencks, Schaffgotschs, Goernes, Voltaires, Wallraves, Glasows, Dahsens,
+and all the traitors, poisoners, and perfidious ones, as they may be
+called. Remain by my side and sustain me, to prevent many a wicked thing
+and bring to pass much that is good. I shall always be grateful to you
+in my heart for it; that you can depend upon even if my weather-beaten
+face looks ill-humored, and my voice is peevish. Remember that I am a
+fretful old man, who is daily wasting away, approaching that bourne from
+which no traveller has ever returned.”
+
+“God grant that your majesty may be far removed from this bourne!”
+ said Herzberg, with emotion. “And He may grant it on account of your
+subjects, who are so much in need of your care and government.”
+
+“There is no one upon earth who could not be replaced,” said the king,
+shaking his head. “When I am gone, they will shout to my successor. I
+trust my subjects will exchange a good ruler for their fretful old king.
+I have been very well satisfied with him during the campaign, and he has
+shown ability in the diplomatic mission to St. Petersburg. He has proved
+himself a soldier and a diplomat, and I hope he will become a great
+king. Herzberg, why do you not answer me, but cast down your eyes? What
+does your silence mean?”
+
+“Nothing at all--truly nothing! The crown prince has a noble, generous
+heart, a good understanding; only--”
+
+“Why hesitate, Herzberg? Go on--what is your ‘only?’”
+
+“I would only say that the crown prince must beware and not be governed
+by others.”
+
+“Oh, you mean that he will be ruled by mistresses and favorites?”
+
+“I do fear it, your majesty! You well know that the crown princes are
+generally the antipodes of those ascendant to the throne. If the ruler
+has only an enlightened mind, and is free from prejudices, so--”
+
+“Is his crown prince an obscurer,” added quickly the king, “having the
+more prejudices, and is capable of being ruled by mystics and exorcists.
+Is not that your meaning?”
+
+Count Herzberg nodded. The king continued with animation: “Some one has
+told me of a new friend who returned from the war with the prince, and
+who belongs to the Rosicrucians and exhorters, and hopes to find many
+adherents here for such deceptions. Is it true?”
+
+“Yes, sire. It is Colonel Bischofswerder, a Rosicrucian and necromancer
+and of course of very pleasant address. He has indeed already gained
+much power over the impressible mind of Frederick William, and his
+importance is greatly on the increase.”
+
+“What does the crown prince’s mistress say to it? Is she not jealous?”
+
+“Of which one does your majesty speak?”
+
+The king started, and his eyes flashed. “What!” he cried with vehemence,
+“is there a question of several? Has the crown prince others besides
+Wilhelmine Enke, whom I have tolerated?”
+
+“Sire, unfortunately, the prince has not a very faithful heart.
+Besides, it is Bischofswerder’s plan, as I suppose, to separate him from
+Wilhelmine, who will not subordinate herself to him, and who even dares
+to mock the necromancers and visionaries, and oppose them to the crown
+prince.”
+
+“Does Enke do that?” asked the king.
+
+“Yes, sire,” answered Herzberg, as the king rose and slowly paced the
+room. “And one must acknowledge that in that she does well and nobly.
+Otherwise one cannot reproach her. She leads a quiet, retired life,
+very seldom leaving her beautiful villa at Charlottenburg, but devotes
+herself to the education of her children. She is surrounded with
+highly-educated men, savants, poets, and artists, who indeed all belong
+to the enlightened, the so-called Illuminati, and which are a thorn in
+the eye to Colonel Bischofswerder. Your majesty will perceive that I
+have some good informants in this circle, and the latest news they bring
+me is that the bad influence is upon the increase. The Rosicrucians
+reproach the prince for his immoral connection with Wilhelmine Enke, as
+they would replace her by one who gives herself up to them.”
+
+“That shall not take place,” cried the king. “No, we will not suffer
+that; and particularly when we are forced to recognize such abominable
+connections, we should endeavor to choose the most desirable. I cannot
+permit that this person, who has at least heart and understanding,
+should be pushed aside by Bischofswerder. My nephew shall retain her,
+and she shall drive away the Rosicrucians with all their deviltries.
+Herzberg, go and tell the crown prince, from me, that I order--”
+
+His majesty suddenly stopped, and looked at Herzberg with surprise, who
+was smiling.
+
+“Why do you laugh, Herzberg?”
+
+“I was not laughing, sire. If my lip quivered against my will, it was
+because I stupidly and foolishly dared to finish the broken sentence.”
+
+“Well, how did you manage to conclude it?”
+
+“Sire, your majesty said, ‘Tell the crown prince that I order him’--and
+there you ceased. I added ‘order him to love Wilhelmine Enke, and be
+faithful to her.’ I beg pardon for my mistake. I should have known that
+your majesty could never command the execution of that which is not to
+be forced; that my great king recognizes, as well as I, that love is not
+compulsory, or fidelity either. Pardon me for my impertinence, and tell
+me the order which I shall take to the crown prince from my beloved king
+and master.”
+
+The king stepped close up to the minister, and gazed with a half-sad,
+half-tender expression in the noble and gentle face of Herzberg, and
+in the sensible brown eyes, which sank not beneath the fiery glance of
+Frederick. Then, slowly raising his hand from the staff, he menaced him
+with his long, bony forefinger.
+
+“Herzberg, you are a rogue, and will teach me morals. Indeed, you are
+right--love is not compulsory, but one can sometimes aid it. Say nothing
+to the prince. The interior of his house must, indeed, be left to
+himself, but we will keep our eyes open and be watchful. Do so also,
+Herzberg, and if you discover any thing, tell me; and if Wilhelmine Enke
+needs assistance against the infamous Rosicrucians, and with her aid
+this mystic rabble can be suppressed, inform me, and I am ready to send
+her succor. Ah! Herzberg, is it not a melancholy fact that one must
+fight his way through so much wickedness to obtain so little that is
+good? My whole life has passed in toil and trouble; I have grown old
+before my time, and would rest from my labors, and harvest in the last
+few years, what I have sown in a lifetime. Is it not sad that I hope for
+no fruit, and that the seed that I have scattered will be trodden under
+foot by my successor? I must gaze at the future without joy, without
+consolation!”
+
+The king turned to the window, perhaps to hide the tears which stood
+in his eyes. Herzberg did not presume to interrupt the sad silence,
+but gazed with an expression of the deepest sympathy at the little bent
+form, in the threadbare coat. Grief filled his heart at the thought
+that this head was not only bowed down by the weight of years and
+well-deserved laurels, but also from its many cares and griefs, and
+hopeless peering into the future.
+
+The king turned again, and his eyes were bright and un-dimmed. “We must
+never lose courage,” said he, “and we must have a reserve corps in life
+as well as upon the field of battle. For the world resembles the latter,
+and the former is a continual war, in which we must not be discouraged
+nor cast down, if there is not hope in our souls. I will cling to As you
+have said, and I have also found it true, that crown prince is a good
+and brave man, and possesses a keen understanding, we may succeed in
+bringing him from the erroneous ways in which his youth, levity, and the
+counsels of wicked friends have led him. We will try with kindness and
+friendliness, as I believe these have more effect upon him. Let us not
+even scorn to aid Wilhelmine in so far as is compatible with honor. If a
+mistress is necessary to the happiness of the prince, this one seems the
+most worthy of all to encourage. Beyond the clouds the stars are still
+shining, and it appears to me as if I see in perspective in the heaven
+of Prussia’s future, a star which promises a bright light with years. Do
+you not think with me, the little Prince Frederick William is a rising
+star?”
+
+“Yes, your majesty,” answered Herzberg, joyfully, “He is a splendid
+little boy, of simple and innocent heart, and bright, vigorous mind,
+modest and unpretending.”
+
+“You see,” cried the king, evidently cheered, “there is one star and
+we will watch over it, that it is not obscured. I must see the prince
+oftener. He shall visit me every month and his governors and teachers
+shall report to me every quarter. We will watch over his education, and
+train him to be a good king for the future, and guard ourselves against
+being pusillanimous, foolish, and fretful, and not be discouraged
+in life. I have entered my last lustrum, or five years. Hush! do not
+dispute it, but believe me! My physique is worn out, and the mental
+grows dull, and although I live and move about, I am half in the grave.
+There are two coffins in this room, which contain the greater part of my
+past. Look around, do you not see them?”
+
+“No,” said Herzberg, as he glanced at the different articles of
+furniture, “I see none.”
+
+“Look upon the table by the window--what do you there see?”
+
+“Your majesty, there is an instrument-case and a sword-sheath.”
+
+“They are the ones I refer to. In the case lies my flute, that is to
+say, my youth, love, poesy, and art, are encoffined there. In the sheath
+is my sword, which is my manhood, energy, laurels, and fame. I will
+never play the flute or draw the sword again. All that is past!”
+
+“But there still remains for the great king a noble work to perfect,”
+ cried Herzberg. “Youth has flown, and the war-songs are hushed. The poet
+and hero will change to the lawgiver. Sire, you have made Prussia great
+and powerful externally; there remains a greater work, to make her the
+same within. You have added new provinces, give them now a new code of
+laws. You will no longer unsheath the sword of the hero; then raise that
+of justice high above your subjects!”
+
+“I will,” cried the king, with beaming eyes. “You have rightly seized
+and comprehended what alone seems to me worthy of will and execution.
+There shall be but one law for the high and the low, the poor and the
+rich. The distinguished Chancellor Carmer shall immediately go to work
+upon it, and you shall aid him. The necessity of such a reform we have
+lately felt in the Arnold process, where the judge decided in favor of
+the rich, and wronged the poor man. How could the judge sustain Count
+Schmettau against the miller Arnold, who had been deprived of the water
+for his mill, when it was so evident that it was unjust?”
+
+“I beg pardon, majesty, but I believe the judge obeyed the very letter
+of the law, and--”
+
+“Then this law must be annulled,” interrupted the king. “This is why
+I revoked the judge’s sentence, and sent the obstinate fellows to the
+fortress, sustaining the miller in his right deposing the arrogant
+Chancellor Furst. I had long resolved upon it, for I knew that he was a
+haughty fellow, who let the poor crowd his anteroom, and listened to
+the flattery of the high-born rabble who courted him. I only waited an
+occasion to bow his haughty head. This offered, and I availed myself of
+it, voila tout. It is to be hoped that it will be good example for all
+courts of justice. They will remember that the least peasant and
+beggar is a human being as much as the king, and that justice should be
+accorded to if they do not, they will have to deal with me. If a college
+of justice practises injustice, it is more dangerous than a band of
+robbers; for one can protect himself from the latter but the former
+are rascals wearing the mantle of justice, to exercise their own
+evil passions, from whom no man can protect himself, and they are the
+greatest scoundrels in the world and deserve a double punishment. I
+therefore deposed the unjust judge, and sent him to the fortress at
+Spandau, that all might take warning by his fate.” [Footnote: The king’s
+own words.--Seo “Prussia, Frederick the Great,” vol. iv.]
+
+“This Arnold trial belongs to history,” said Herzberg. “The lawyers will
+refer to it after the lapse of centuries, and the poor and the oppressed
+will recall and bless the thoughtfulness of the great king, who would
+open just as wide a gate for them to enter the heaven of justice as to
+the rich and noble. This new code of laws will beam above the crown
+of gold and of laurels, with the splendor of the civil crown, whose
+brilliants are the tears of gratitude of your people.”
+
+“May it be so,” said Frederick, with earnestness. “Now tell me, do you
+know what day of the month it is?”
+
+“Sire, it is the 30th of May.’”
+
+“Yes, you will remember it is the anniversary of Voltaire’s death, and
+after I have quarrelled for two years with the priests and so-called
+holy fathers at Rome, I have gained my point, and the honor shall be
+shown him here in Berlin which the priests and friars have refused to
+the immortal poet in his own country. To-day, exactly at the hour
+which Voltaire died, the mass for the dead will be read in the Catholic
+church, to free his immortal soul from purgatory. I have, indeed, no
+idea of an immortal soul. If there are any, and if it has to endure the
+threefold heat of which Father Tobias, of Silesia, related to me, I do
+not believe that the priests, for a few thalers, can loose the unhappy
+spirit from the bake-oven. But as they refuse burial to the spirit of
+Voltaire, in order to insult him after death, so must I avail myself of
+this occasion to offer a last homage to the great poet, which will take
+place at four o’clock. Go to the mass, Herzberg, and tell me to-morrow
+how it went off--whether the priests make right pious faces and burn
+much incense. Adieu. Au revoir, demain.”
+
+As the king dismissed, with a friendly wave of the hand, his
+confidential minister, he passed into his cabinet, remaining an
+hour with his counsellors. At dinner appeared some of the generals,
+weather-worn and bent, with wrinkled faces and dull eyes. Souvenirs of
+the glorious years of fame and victory. The king nodded kindly to them,
+but during the entire meal, he only let some indifferent questions fall
+from his lips, which were devotedly and tediously answered by some one
+of the old generals. As their dry, peevish voices resounded through
+the high, vaulted room, it seemed to reawaken in Frederick’s heart the
+souvenirs of memory and become the echo of vanished days. He gazed up
+at the little Cupids, in the varied play of bright colors, looking down
+from the clouds, and the goddesses trumpeting through their long tubes
+the fame of the immortal, the same as formerly, when they smiled from
+the clouds upon the beaming face of the young king, dining in the
+distinguished circle of his friends Voltaire, D’Argens, Algarotti, La
+Melbrie, and Keith.
+
+The Cupids were fresh as ever, and the goddesses had not removed the
+trumpets from their lips. But where were the of the merry round-table?
+Returned to dust. The jests and poesy have died away--all have sunken to
+decay and darkness. The king silently raised his glass of Tokay, gazing
+up to the clouds and Cupids, draining it slowly in sacrifice for the
+dead. Then with a vehement, contemptuous movement, he threw the
+glass over his shoulder, shivering it into a thousand pieces. The old
+generals, after dessert, had gently sunk into their afternoon nap, and
+now started, frightened, looking wildly around, as if they expected
+the enemy were approaching. Alkmene crept from under the king’s chair
+muffing with her long, delicate nose, the glistening pieces of glass,
+and the footman bent himself to carefully pick them up.
+
+The king rose silently, saluting the old generals, pointing with his
+staff to the large folding-doors which led to the garden.
+
+The footmen hastened forward to open them, and stand in stiff, military
+order upon each side. Frederick walked slowly out, mounting the two
+steps which led to the upper terrace, signing to the attendants to close
+the doors.
+
+He was alone. Only Windspiel was there to spring about joyfully,
+barking, and turning to meet him, who wandered on the border of the
+terrace, where he had formerly walked with his friends. Now he stopped
+to gaze up the broad, deserted steps which led from terrace to terrace,
+as if he could re-people them with the well-known forms, and could see
+them approach and greet him with the look of endless love and constancy.
+Then he raised his eyes to heaven, as if to seek there those he in vain
+sought upon earth.
+
+“Do you not see me, my friends?” he asked, in a gentle but sad voice.
+“Do you not look down wonderingly where you saw a cheerful, smiling
+king, upon the now bent, shrunken old man, cold and phlegmatic, who
+seldom speaks, and then causes every one to yawn? Oh, where have you
+fled, beautiful spring-time of life--wherein once we used to enliven our
+conversations with the wit of the Athenians, and the jest fluttered
+upon our lips as we glided through life in the bold enjoyment of
+youth? Banished is the dance, and I creep about, leaning upon my staff,
+enfeebled in body, and with saddened heart! Oh, awful change, unhappy
+old age! What does it aid me that I am a king? I have won many a battle,
+but now I am vanquished by age and death and am alone!” [Footnote: The
+king’s words.--See “Posthumous Works,” vol. x., p. 100.]
+
+A slight breeze rustled through the trees, fanning, caressingly, the
+cheeks of the king. The perfume of sweet flowers rose from the terrace,
+and below rushed the cascade. The marble groups around the fountain
+glistened in the golden rays of the sun, and in the dark foliage
+fluttered and sang the merry birds of summer.
+
+Suddenly the wind wafted from the church at Potsdam the clear tones of a
+bell, announcing to the king the hour of four, the death of Voltaire.
+
+The king walked along to the rose-arbor, to the temple of friendship,
+where the bust of his sister Frederika was placed. He seated himself
+near the entrance, listening to the ringing voice of the bell, and
+recalling that the death-mass had now commenced in Berlin.
+
+The service sacred to memory! The prayer for the immortal soul! As the
+lonely king sat there, calm and bowed down, a solemn prayer and holy
+mass rose from his own soul. He bowed lower his head, and, without
+realizing it himself, traced letters in the sand at his feet, with no
+witness but the blue heavens above him, and Windspiel who curiously eyed
+the lines. Thinking of the prayer for Voltaire’s undying soul, the king
+had written the word of profoundest mystery and revelation, of hope and
+prophecy--“Immortality.”
+
+The wind gently rustled in the trees, wafting the perfume of flowers.
+Sweet stillness reigned around, and lowly sang the birds as if not
+to waken the king, who slept by the marble form of his beloved
+sister--Windspiel upon his knees, and in the sand at his feet the word
+traced by his own hand, “Immortality.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. CAGLIOSTRO’S RETURN.
+
+
+Wilhelmine Enke was still living at her villa at Charlottenburg. She
+was, as formerly, the “unmarried” daughter of the hautboy-player, the
+favorite and friend of the crown prince; the same as two years previous,
+when he presented her before the Bavarian campaign, with this house
+and There was no change in her outward circumstances; her life passed
+regularly and calmly. The once fresh and beautiful cheek had lost
+somewhat of its youthful, roseate hue, and the smile of the ruby lips
+was less haughty, and the warmth of those brilliant eyes was subdued.
+This was the only perceptible difference wrought by the little vexations
+and troubles incident to her position. She had found some bitter
+drops in the golden goblet which the prince in his love pressed to her
+lips--drops which were uncongenial to lips accustomed to the sweets of
+life.
+
+To-day she had awaited him at dinner, and had just received a very
+friendly but laconic letter, excusing himself until the following
+morning. This was an unpalatable drop. Wilhlemine paced back and forth
+the solitary, gloomy path, at the foot of the garden, re-reading this
+letter, and examining every word to search out its hidden meaning.
+
+“They have brought this about,” she murmured, tearing the letter into
+little pieces, which lighted upon the shrubbery like butterflies. “Yes,
+it is their work. They have sought by all possible means to draw him
+into their power, and away from me. And they will succeed, as there
+are two of them, and the princess sustains them; and I am alone,
+unsupported. I am entirely alone--alone!”
+
+“If you are alone, then, it is surely your own fault,” said an earnest,
+solemn voice, and at the same instant a tall form approached from the
+shrubbery which bordered the side of the garden.
+
+“Cagliostro!” shrieked Wilhelmine, shrinking terrified away. “Oh, mercy
+upon me, it is Cagliostro!”
+
+“Why are you so frightened, my daughter?” he asked, gently. “Why do you
+withdraw from me, and cast down your eyes?”
+
+“I thought you were in Courland,” she stammered, confused.
+
+“And whilst you thought me afar, you forgot your sacred oath and
+holy duty,” he replied, in a harsh, severe tone. “Oh my daughter, the
+Invisibles weep and lament bitterly over you.”
+
+“I am curious to see these tears,” said Wilhelmine, who had now
+recovered her self-composure. “Do you think, Herr Magus, any of them
+could be found in the eyes of Colonel Bischofswerder and his intimate
+friend Woellner? Do you pretend that they also weep over me?”
+
+“They do not belong to the Invisibles, but the Visibles. But their souls
+are true and faithful, and would have to mourn over the unhappy one who
+could forget her vows.”
+
+“Then allow me to say that I abjure these tears, and laugh at the idea
+that these hypocrites and necromancers weep over me.”
+
+“My daughter, what words are these, and how strangely altered you are!
+I have come from the far north, and but just alighted from the
+travelling-carriage. I came at once to see you, and hoped to be greeted
+joyfully with a kiss of love, and what do I hear instead? Harsh words
+filled with scorn and mockery, and disobedience against the Invisible
+Fathers, to whom you have sworn fidelity and submission!”
+
+“You have forced me to it!” she cried, impetuously. “In my own house you
+came upon me and compelled me to take part in your mystic assembly.”
+
+“If one loves humanity, he must insist upon its accepting happiness,”
+ said Cagliostro, solemnly. “We recognized in you one of the elect, one
+of the great souls which are worthy to see the light, and sun themselves
+in the rays of knowledge. Therefore we accepted you among the spirits of
+the alliance, and--”
+
+“And made great promises, of which not one has been fulfilled. Where
+is the title of countess, the influence, position, honor, and dignity,
+which you prophesied to me?”
+
+“Where are the deeds you promised to perform, the witnesses of your
+fidelity and devotion?” he thunderingly demanded. “You have dared to
+rebel against the holy alliance! Your short-sighted spirit presumes
+to mock those eyes which perceive that you are straying away!
+Beware--Wilhemine, beware! I came to-day to warn you, when I return it
+will be to punish you. Turn, oh turn while there is yet time! Submit
+your will to the Fathers, as you have sworn to do! The promised reward
+will not fail, and Wilhelmine Enke will become a countess, a princess,
+and the most distinguished and powerful will bow before her. The Fathers
+demand of you repentance, and renunciation of the worst enemies of the
+Rosicrucians. Members, and even chiefs and pioneers of the Illuminati
+and Freemasons are welcomed at your house.”
+
+“Why should they not be?” asked she, smiling. “They are happy, cheerful
+spirits, void of mysteries, and do not torture people with mysticisms.
+They have but one aim, a great and glorious one, to free the mind from
+superstition and hypocrisy. They encounter with open countenance the
+false devotees who would force men into spiritual servitude, that they
+may become the slaves of their will. You call them ‘Illuminati,’ while
+they have undertaken to illuminate the minds with the beams of knowledge
+which the Rosicrucians obscure in a mystical fog.”
+
+“Unhappy one, do you dare to say that to me?” cried Cagliostro,
+menacingly.
+
+“Yes,” she responded, keeping her large, brown eyes firmly fixed upon
+Cagliostro’s angry face. “That I dare to repeat to you, and I would also
+remark that we are not in the mystical assembly of the Rosicrucians,
+and your familiar ‘Du’ is out of place. I belong to the Illuminati, and
+mingle with the freethinkers. They have not, indeed, promised me titles,
+honors, or dignities, but they have amused me, have driven ennui from
+the house, and instead of mysticisms, brought me poesy, and instead of
+the invisible holy church, the Greek temple. It is possible my life
+may not be a godly one, but it is as happy as the gods, and that is
+something in this tedious world.”
+
+“I regard you with astonishment,” said Cagliostro, “for I recognize in
+your countenance that the devil has won you over to his power, and in
+you he speaks with the bold insolence of the sinful. Subdue, unhappy
+child, your rash speech, that the Fathers may not hear of it, and crush
+you in their wrath.”
+
+“I do not fear their thunderbolts, permit me to tell you. We are in
+Prussia; the great king watches over all his subjects; neither the
+Romish Church nor the Rosicrucians can obscure the light of knowledge.
+He will not suffer a ghost, sneaking in the dark, to exercise power
+here, and he will not refuse the protection to me which is accorded to
+the least of his subjects. I do not fear you, and I will tell you the
+truth entire, I believe you to be a hypocrite and a charlatan, who--”
+
+“Miserable one!” interrupted Cagliostro, as he furiously rushed to her,
+seizing her by the arm--“cease, unhappy one, or your life is forfeited
+to the invisible avengers!”
+
+Wilhelmine shook her head, and encountered his flaming eyes with a proud
+glance. “I repeat your own words--cease, or your life will be forfeited!
+Perhaps you think I do not know what happened to you in Mittau, where
+you were recognized as a charlatan, who fooled the poor creatures into
+the belief of his miraculous acts, which consisted in lightening their
+purses to the benefit of his own. You were obliged to flee from Mitlau
+in the night, to save yourself, your treasures, and wonderful man-traps,
+and the beautiful Lorenza Feliciana. Beware! The Empress of Russia had
+a certain Joseph Balsamo pursued, who had practised great deception, and
+people pretend that he resembles Count Cagliostro. The Empress Catherine
+is a good friend and ally of the King of Prussia, and if the happy idea
+should occur to me to propose seeking the necromancer here, the Great
+Kophta might come a miserable end.”
+
+“On the contrary, it would only be a welcome occasion for the Great
+Kophta to reveal himself, and hurl his despicable, malicious enemy
+into the dust at his feet,” replied Cagliostro, calmly. “Try it, you
+faithless, fallen daughter of the Invisibles--try to unloose the pack
+of my enemies, to recognize that all their yelling and barking does not
+trouble the noble stag to whom God has given the whole world for His
+forestward that He should rule therein. I have listened to you unto the
+end, and I regard your invectives and accusations as not worthy of a
+reply or justification, and I laugh at your menaces. But I warn you,
+Wilhelmine Enke, defy not the Invisibles, and offend not the Holy
+Fathers, by your continued resistance. Turn, misguided child of
+sin--turn while there is yet time! In their name I offer you a last
+chance, their forbearance is without bounds, and their mercy long
+enduring.”
+
+“I neither desire your forbearance nor mercy,” cried she, proudly. “I
+will have no companionship with my enemies, and the Rosicrucians are
+such, for Bischofswerder and Woellner both hate me, and would put me
+aside. There is no reconciliation where only hostility is possible.”
+
+“The heavenly listen not to the voices of the earthly, and prove
+themselves, the most noble when the least deserved. They will protect
+and watch over you, even against your will, and never will they be deaf
+to your cry for aid in the hour of Here is a token of their grace toward
+you. Take this ring--do you recognize it?”
+
+Wilhelmine regarded it attentively. “This is the ring which I gave at
+the tribute-altar instead of gold, which you desired.”
+
+“The Invisibles sent it to you to-day as the precious pledge of their
+favor. You shall keep it, and wear it as a token of their heavenly
+forbearance, and when you turn back from the erroneous ways into which
+the Illuminati have led you, send it to the circle of Berlin directors,
+either Bischofswerder or Wollner, and they will come to your rescue.
+Farewell! I forgive you all your wicked words, which fall like spent
+arrows from the helmet of my righteousness.”
+
+Cagliostro turned proudly away, and disappeared in the bushes.
+
+Wilhelmine placed the ring upon her finger, turning it to watch the
+play of colors. “I do not know why,” said she, “but it has not the same
+brilliancy as formerly. I will take it to the jeweller Wagner, and ask
+him if it is the same stone. Perhaps the Great Kophta has tried some of
+his miracles upon it. I will at once send the servant to Minister von
+Herzberg, and inform him that Cagliostro is here. He has promised me
+protection in the name of the king, and I feel that I shall now have
+need of it.”
+
+She hurried to the house, and devoted herself to the writing of the
+said letter--a task she was but little accustomed to. She had learned to
+speak French very prettily, and to express herself skilfully and wittily
+in German, and under her royal master, the crown prince Frederick
+William, gained much valuable scientific knowledge. But to write
+fluently was quite another thing, and it was a long time before the
+epistle was finished. However, happily accomplished, she commanded the
+servant to take it to Berlin.
+
+He bowed with silent submission; but once having quitted the house, a
+cunning smile was visible upon his face, and he availed himself of a
+stage-coach which was going in the same direction. “I can afford this
+expense,” said he, arranging himself comfortably. “When I have money in
+my pocket why should I walk the long distance? I was very clever to tell
+Bischofswerder that the Minister von Herzberg had secretly visited my
+mistress, and it was equally clever of him to give me a louis d’or, and
+promise me the same every time that I should bring him important news.
+Indeed, I think to-day he may well thank me, and I believe, if I often
+inform him, he will advance me a degree, and at last I shall be admitted
+to the circle of the elect, while I now belong to the outside circle,
+who know nothing and hope every thing.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. THE TRIUMVIRATE.
+
+
+While Wilhelmine’s servant gave himself up to his hopes, slowly down
+the broad avenue, an elegant four-in-hand carriage rolled past him, and
+stopped at the house where lived Colonel Bischofswerder, long before he
+had reached the Brandenburg Gate. A gentleman sprang out, hastening
+past the footman into the house, where a servant evidently awaited
+his arrival, and preceded him with devout mien, throwing open the wide
+folding-doors and announcing, in a solemn voice--“His excellency, Count
+Cagliostro.” He then respectfully withdrew, bowing profoundly as the
+count passed, and closed quickly and noiselessly the doors behind him.
+
+The two gentlemen within hastened to meet the count, who nodded
+smilingly, and extended to them with a gracious condescension his white
+hand sparkling with diamonds. “My dear brothers,” said he, “you have
+unfortunately announced me the truth--Wilhelmine Enke is faithless--is
+an apostate.”
+
+“A courtesan, ensnared by the devil of unchastity,” murmured the elder
+of the two--a man of long, lank figure, pale, pock-marked face, the
+broad high forehead shaded with but little hair, the watery blue eyes
+turned upward, as if in pious ecstasy, and the large, bony hands either
+folded as if in prayer, or as if in quiet contemplation, twirling his
+thumbs around each other. “I have always said so,” said he, with a
+long-drawn sigh; “she is a temptress, whom Satan, in bodily repetition
+of himself, has placed by the prince’s side, and his salvation cannot be
+counted upon until this person is removed.”
+
+“And you, my beloved brother, think otherwise--do you not?” asked
+Cagliostro, gently.
+
+“Yes,” answered Bischofswerder, “you know well, sublime master and
+ruler, how much I esteem and love the worthy and honorable Wollner,
+and how much weight his opinion has with me. In all my reports to the
+Invisible Fathers I have always particularly mentioned him, and it was
+upon my wish and proposal that they appointed him director of one of the
+three Berlin circles. He is occupied near me in the confederacy, and
+is also in the service of the crown prince, for it was by my especial,
+earnest recommendation that his highness called him to Berlin from the
+exchequer of Prince Henry at Rheinsberg, that he might give him lectures
+in politics and other branches of administration, I do not say it to
+boast, although I have always regarded it as an honor to have opened the
+way to a distinguished man, to have his great talents properly valued.
+I only say it to prove my high appreciation of dear brother Wollner, and
+to defend myself, master, in your eyes, that I differ in opinion from
+him, and do not advise a violent removal of this person, to whom the
+prince is more attached than he himself knows of.”
+
+“It is not necessary to excuse yourself to me, my son,” said Cagliostro,
+pompously. “The eyes which the Invisibles have lighted up with a beam of
+revelation, see into the depths of things, and reveal the most hidden.
+I have glanced into your hearts, and I will tell you that which I have
+therein read. You, Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder, belong to the world;
+its joys and sorrows agitate you. You have a longing for science and the
+knowledge of the Invisibles, and you would also enjoy the Visibles, and
+take part in the pleasures of life. What you would allow yourself, that
+you would also grant to your royal master, whose friend and leader you
+are, and who, one day, will be the future king and ruler of the visible
+world, and a faithful son and servant of the Invisibles. Is it not
+thus?”
+
+“It is so,” answered Bischofswerder, who, with wondering astonishment,
+drank in every word that fell from Cagliostro’s lips as a revelation.
+“You have read the inmost thoughts of my heart, and what I scarcely
+suspected myself, you are knowing of, lord and master.”
+
+“Toil and strive, my son, and you shall rise to the highest grade, in
+which presentiment and recognition, thinking and knowing, are one.”
+
+He extended to Bischofswerder his hand, who fervently pressed it to his
+lips; then turned to Wollner, who, with upturned gaze and folded hands,
+might have been praying, for his thumbs were not turning around, but
+rested, quietly crossed.
+
+“You, my son and brother,” continued Cagliostro, with his lofty, haughty
+reserve, “your thoughts are diverted from earth, and the joys of this
+world have no charm for you!” “I have laid the oath of virtue and
+chastity upon the altar of the Invisibles,” replied Wollner, with
+a severe tone of voice. “I have given myself to a pious life of
+abstinence, and sworn to employ every means to lead those that I can
+attain to upon the narrow path which leads to the paradise of science,
+of knowledge, and heavenly joys. How could I forget my oath, which is to
+win the prince, who is to become a light and shield in the holy order,
+from the broad course of vice, to the pathway of the blest? How can I
+bear to see him lost in sin who is elected to virtue, and who longs for
+the light of knowledge?”
+
+“But, in order to bear the light in its brightness, he must have passed
+through the darkness and gloom of sin,” said Cagliostro. “After the days
+of error follow those of knowledge. This is what causes the mildness
+of our brother Theophilus, whom the earthly world calls Bischofswerder,
+whilst you, brother Chrysophorus, demand from the prince the severest
+virtue, which is the first great vow of the brothers advancing in the
+holy order of the Rosicrucians. You are both wrong and both right. It is
+well to be lenient as brother Theophilus, but that must have its limit,
+and the night wanderer who stands upon the brink of a precipice must
+be awakened, but not with violent words, or calling loudly his name,
+because a sudden awakening would only hasten his fall. Slowly and
+carefully must he be roused; as one would by degrees accustom the
+invalid eyes to the mid-day, so must the light of virtue and knowledge
+dawn upon the eyes, ill from vice, with prudent foresight. Hear my
+proposal. Summon the three circles of the brothers of the highest degree
+to a sitting to-night. You have told me that the prince desires to
+belong to the seeing ones, and be in communion with the spiritual world.
+This night his wish shall be fulfilled, to see the spirits, and a new
+future shall rise before him. My time is limited; let us arrange every
+thing, for the voices of the Invisibles already call me home.”
+
+At this instant a modest knocking was heard at the door, which was
+repeated at different intervals.
+
+“It is my servant,” said Bischofswerder, “and he has undoubtedly an
+important communication for me.”
+
+He opened the door, speaking with the person outside in a low tone, and
+returned with a sealed note.
+
+Cagliostro, apparently, was lest in deep thought and indifferent to the
+conversation without, directing quietly and calmly, in the mean time,
+a few questions to Wollner, and, as it seemed, listening only to his
+answers. Yet as Bischofswerder approached him, saying, “it is, indeed,
+important news; I have proof in hand that--” he interrupted him with a
+commanding motion, and finished the broken sentence: “--that Wilhelmine
+Enke is a powerful adversary, having connection with the court, as this
+letter from her is directed to Minister Herzberg. Is it not this that
+you would say, Theophilus?”
+
+Astonished, he replied in the affirmative, begging his master to read
+it.
+
+“It is unnecessary,” replied Cagliostro, waving back the letter; “to the
+seeing eyes every thing is revealed. This person announces to Minister
+von Herzberg that the deceiver and necromancer, Cagliostro, in his
+flight from Mittau, has visited her to menace her. She begs protection
+for herself and an arrest for me; that I am known as Count Julien, at
+the hotel King of Portugal, at Berlin, and that haste is necessary.”
+
+Both gentlemen glanced astonished and enraptured, first at the sealed
+epistle and then at the great Magus.
+
+“Open the letter and convince yourselves of the contents!” commanded
+Cagliostro.
+
+“It is unnecessary,” cried Bischofswerder, with enthusiasm. “We
+recognize in you truth and knowledge; you have revealed to us the
+contents.”
+
+“Nay, there is a lingering doubt in the mind of brother Chrysophorus!”
+ said Cagliostro, regarding Woellner fixedly, who stood with downcast
+eyes before him.
+
+“My ruler and master,” stammered Woellner, in confusion, “I dare not
+doubt, only--”
+
+“You would only be convinced, open then the letter,” interrupted
+Cagliostro, sarcastically.
+
+With a sharp knife, Bischofswerder cut the end of the envelope, and
+handed the letter to him.
+
+“Give it to Chrysophorus,” commanded the count. “He shall read it, and
+may the incredulous become a believer!”
+
+Woellner perused the epistle with a slightly tremulous voice, stopping
+now and then, at an illegible word, which his master quickly supplied
+to him, finishing the sentence as correctly as if he held the writing in
+his hand.
+
+The contents were exactly as Cagliostro had given them, and the
+farther Wollner read, the more his voice quivered and Bischofswerder’s
+enthusiasm increased.
+
+As the reading was finished, the former sank, with uplifted hands,
+before his master, as if imploring mercy from a mighty, crushing power.
+
+“I have been unbelieving as Tobias, doubting as Paul; have mercy on
+me, O master! for in this hour the divine light of belief and knowledge
+banishes doubt from my sinful heart. I acknowledge thy supernatural
+power and heavenly wisdom! My whole being bows in humility before you
+and your sublimity, and henceforth I will only be your humble scholar
+and servant, the tool of your will. Forgive me, all-knowing one, if
+my heart doubted. Breathe upon me the breath of knowledge, and lay
+thy august right hand upon my head, and penetrate me with thy heavenly
+power.”
+
+“Have mercy upon me also,” cried Bischofswerder, as he kneeled beside
+Woellner, and, like him, raised his hands imploringly to Cagliostro.
+“Breathe upon me the breath of thy grace, and regard me, the repentant
+and unworthy, with thy heavenly glance!”
+
+Cagliostro looked to heaven, and from his lips there fell disconnected
+words of exhortation; suddenly he drew forth his hands, which he had
+pushed into his gown and crossed upon his breast, stretching them out
+with wide-spread fingers.
+
+“Come to me, ye spirits!” he cried, in a loud, thundering voice. “Ye
+spirits of fire and air, come to me! Ye shall flame and burn upon the
+heads of these two persons and announce to them that the Invisibles are
+with us. Come to me, ye spirits of fire!”
+
+He clinched his fingers, extending them again, and upon the points
+there danced and flickered a blue light. A heavenly smile shone upon the
+beautiful face of the Magus, his hands slowly sank upon the heads of
+the kneeling ones, the flames gliding upon their heads, resting there a
+moment, and then dying away.
+
+“The Invisibles have proclaimed themselves to you through the sign of
+fire,” cried Cagliostro. “The sacred flame has glowed upon your heads,
+and I now press upon your brow the solemn kiss of consecration and
+knowledge!”
+
+He bowed down to the kneeling ones. It seemed as if a cloud of perfume
+had passed over their glowing faces, or as if an odorous lily had been
+pressed upon their foreheads, and their hearts quivered with delight.
+He passed his hand lightly over their faces, and a feeling of rapture
+spread through their whole being. Then as he commanded them to rise,
+they obeyed, without realizing that they had limbs or body, but regarded
+the miracle-worker, entranced with his smile.
+
+Cagliostro, with hasty decision and earnest, commanding air, made a few
+opposite strokes in the air, and immediately the faces of the magnetized
+looked as if they had awakened from a dream of splendor and delight to
+insipid, flat reality.
+
+“I have permitted you to behold, for an instant, the mysteries and
+miracles which are serviceable to the knowing ones,” said Cagliostro,
+with calm earnestness. “Your souls were in communion with the
+Invisibles, and from the source of knowledge a spark of illumination
+fell upon your heads. Guard it as a heavenly secret that no one should
+know of, and now let us continue our conversation.”
+
+“Permit me once more to lay my head at your feet, and receive power from
+the touch thereof,” implored Bischofswerder.
+
+“Let me embrace your knees, and entreat pardon and grace,” begged
+Woellner, as he sank down to clasp them, and the former threw himself at
+the feet of his master, passionately kissing them.
+
+Smilingly he received their homage, and assisted them to rise.
+
+“Now let us speak in a human, reasonable manner, my friends. Brother
+Theophilus, you, first of all, return the letter to the envelope and
+seal it.”
+
+Bischofswerder obeyed; taking from the table a little bottle and a small
+brush, he carefully applied an adhesive substance to the edges, pressing
+them firmly together.
+
+“Master, no one could discover that it had been opened. Command what
+shall be done with it.”
+
+“Give it to your servant, that he may return it to him who brought it,
+and the latter can now deliver it at its address.”
+
+“To the Minister Herzberg!” they both cried, amazed. “It is impossible;
+he is a sworn enemy of the holy order and your own heavenly person. He
+could take the most violent measures, and cause your excellency to be
+arrested.”
+
+“I believe it,” smiled Cagliostro. “The great Frederick would announce
+triumphantly that he had had the great Semiramis of the North taken,
+which the Russian police had failed to accomplish. It would be a welcome
+triumph for unbelievers and fools, and they would trumpet it joyfully
+through the world! It must not be; although my spirit in its power and
+might would soon release my body, yet I will not grant this momentary
+triumph to my enemies. My time is limited; I must forth to Egypt, where
+the Brothers of the Millennium will assemble in the course of a week in
+the pyramids, to announce to me their will for the coming century. I
+am the Spirit of God, which the Invisibles have willed to enter a human
+form, therefore it must be regarded as sacred and protected.”
+
+“Allow me to guard, with my life, your sublime person!” cried
+Bischofswerder.
+
+“And I also implore you to grant me the happiness to watch over the
+security of your heavenly self, and defend it to the last drop of my
+blood!” cried Woellner; “only tell us what we have to do.”
+
+“Above all things obey my command concerning the letter,” replied the
+count, smiling.
+
+Bischofswerder submissively went out with the epistle, returning in a
+few moments. “It is as you have ordered: in a quarter of an hour it will
+be in the hands of Minister Herzberg.”
+
+“No,” replied the count, fixing his eyes upon empty space, “it will
+not be there, for Herzberg is not at home. I now see him driving in a
+carriage with four black steeds to the country. At this instant he
+is crossing a bridge, now he enters a town, turning down one of the
+streets, where the noise of the wheels is lost. Again I hear him,
+leaving by the gate, ascending a broad avenue.”
+
+“It is the route to Sans-Souci,” murmured Bischofswerder, in a low voice,
+but the count must have understood him, as he repeated aloud:
+
+“Yes, that is the route to Sans-Souci, and the lonely, fretful old king
+will keep his minister the entire day, and will not receive the missive
+from his secret female accomplice until his return in the evening, and
+then he will dispatch his bailiffs in all haste to the hotel to arrest
+Count St. Julien, and forward an order to every gate to forbid his
+departure. It will be too late, however--he will have already departed.”
+
+“Departed!” cried the two gentlemen, frightened. “Will you, then,
+forsake us?”
+
+“Hush, my brothers, be quiet!” answered Cagliostro. “I shall have
+departed for the profane, but I will remain here for the consecrated
+until to-morrow morning. It oft happens that the lofty even must come
+down, and the brilliant obscure themselves. To-day I must descend from
+my spiritual height, and humble myself in the dust of lowliness. When
+the unholy and unconsecrated essay to behold that which they should not
+with their earthly eyes; they must be blinded with earthly dust, and for
+those which are not worthy of miracles, we must sometimes condescend to
+jugglers’ tricks. By the latter I will mislead my enemies to-day. How
+many gates are there to the city of Berlin?”
+
+“There are nine, master.”
+
+“Send immediately messengers around in your circles to order eight
+travelling-carriages and sixteen large black trunks. Further, send
+me eight confidential discreet men of my height and size, with eight
+perukes, exactly the cut of mine. Command four post-horses, with two
+postilions for eight different addresses. This is all that is necessary
+for the moment.”
+
+“All shall be faithfully and quickly accomplished,” said Bischofswerder,
+humbly. “We will divide the execution of your orders, and there only
+remains to appoint the time and place when and where to direct the
+postilions.”
+
+“All this will follow; forget not, in trifling, earthly things, the
+great heavenly circumstances. Summon the consecrated of the highest
+degree of your circle to go to-night to the palace of Prince Frederick
+William at Potsdam, and under the very eyes of the old freethinking king
+we will open to the crown prince the doors of the spiritual world, and
+consecrate him to the highest degree. But first the Invisibles shall
+speak with him, and announce the heavenly region of the unapproachable.
+Finish the preparations, my brothers--fulfil exactly and punctually my
+orders, and then come to the hotel to receive my last commands.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. FUTURE PLANS.
+
+
+Cagliostro quitted the two confidants, entered his carriage awaiting
+him before the door, and drove to the hotel. The host and chief waiter
+received him with extreme deference, both accompanying him up the
+stairs--the latter throwing wide open the large doors of his room. The
+count turned, and, in addressing some indifferent question to the host,
+opened his gold-embroidered blue satin vest.
+
+The host turned pale, and shrank back, as if seized with a sudden
+fright. Cagliostro passed on, motioning him to follow, which he humbly
+obeyed, sinking upon his knees as the door closed.
+
+“Have you recognized the sign which I wear upon my breast?”
+
+“Yes, master,” he stammered, bowing down with the greatest reverence.
+
+“Then you belong to the elect of the Inner Temple, for the sign of
+knowledge is only made known to them.”
+
+“I do, indeed, understand its mysteries, master, and I know that one
+of the Invisibles, in infinite condescension, appears in a visible form
+before me. Immeasurable as the happiness, is my obedience! Command me,
+master; my life and riches belong to the holy alliance!”
+
+“Rise and receive my orders,” replied Cagliostro, with great dignity. In
+a brief, dictatorial manner he communicated the necessary arrangements;
+then dismissed him with a haughty nod, and entered the adjoining room of
+his wife, Lorenza Feliciana.
+
+She had thrown herself upon the divan, in charming neglige. Her head was
+encircled with black ringlets, which she wore unpowdered, despite the
+fashion. Her eyes were closed, and her beautiful shoulders were but half
+concealed by a black lace veil.
+
+She slept so quietly and soundly that the count did not awaken her upon
+entering. He approached her lightly upon the soft carpet, and stood
+regarding her attentively. A pleasant smile spread over his face,
+softening its expression, and his eyes beamed with passionate
+tenderness.
+
+“She is indeed beautiful,” he murmured, softly. “No one could withstand
+the charm of this wonderful woman. Ah, would that I could crush these
+wicked spirits within me, silence all these seductive, sinful voices,
+and fly to some secluded valley of our dear fatherland, and there,
+reposing on her love, let life glide calmly on and smile at the past
+without regret, as a fading dream! Would that I could forget, and become
+again pure and innocent, blest in my affection, simple in my tastes, and
+without wants! But no, it is too late! I cannot retreat, the demons
+will not be driven out; to them my soul belongs, and I must fulfil my
+destiny!--Awake, Lorenza, awake!” Her beautiful form shook with fright;
+she started, opened her eyes, demanding, “What is the matter? Who is
+here?”
+
+“It is I, Lorenza,” he said, sadly; “I was obliged to awaken you, to
+tell you something important.”
+
+“Are the pursuers here? Have they discovered us? Are they coming to take
+us to prison?”
+
+“No, no; be quiet, Lorenza, no one has discovered us!”
+
+“Quiet!” she repeated, with a scornful laugh. “We have travelled day and
+night the last ten days, hiding ourselves in miserable holes and dens,
+under assumed names, believing our pursuers were at our hacks; and now
+that we are showing ourselves publicly, you ask me to be quiet! I have
+slept for the first time since that fearful night in Mittau, and it is
+very cruel and thoughtless of you to wake me, if the bailiffs are not
+here, and danger does not menace us.”
+
+“For the moment we are safe, but I have something important to tell
+you.”
+
+“Important?” she cried, shrugging her shoulders. “What is of consequence
+to me, since that night? Oh, when I think of it, I could shriek with
+rage, I could annihilate myself in despair!”
+
+“It was indeed a dreadful experience, and my heart quakes when I think
+of it,” said Cagliostro, gloomily. “The secret assembly consisted of
+the highest and most influential of the Courland nobility. Suspecting
+no wrong, not even that there could be traitors among the believers who
+would falsify my spirit apparatus, I gave myself up to conjuring the
+departed.”
+
+“And I upon my fairy throne,” added Lorenza, “couched in the innocent
+costume of the celestial, only veiled with a silvery cloud, heard a
+sudden shriek. The room was quite dark; I saw, upon opening my eyes,
+that no spirits enlivened it.”
+
+“Every thing failed--that is to say, my assistants let it fail,” said
+the count, “and the assembly began to murmur. Suddenly, instead of the
+departed princes and heroes, what fearful forms arose!”
+
+“Apes, cats, and other animals,” cried Lorenza, with a loud laugh. “Oh,
+what an irresistible sight! In spite of my anger I had to laugh, and
+laugh I did upon the fairy throne, like--”
+
+“Like a foolish child who neither knows nor understands danger,”
+ interrupted the count. “Your laughing soon ceased in the fearful tumult
+and uproar. They shrieked for light, the ladies fled, and the men
+menaced me with loud curses, calling me a charlatan, and threatening my
+life!”
+
+“Mine also,” cried Lorenza; “oh, what insults and ill-treatment I was
+forced to listen to! They rushed upon me, shrieking for the brilliants
+and money which they had brought me as an offering. How they scolded and
+called me a deceiver! I was only very beautiful and coquettish, and that
+was no deception! I charmed them with my coyness, and they brought
+me the most costly presents, because I was a virtuous woman. Now they
+reproached me, demanding a return of them all, which they had forced
+upon me of their own free will. I was obliged to bear it silently in my
+costume of innocence, and as goddess I could not defend myself and speak
+with human beings--who pushed up to the throne. It was a very ridiculous
+position; happily I did not quite lose my senses, but let the apparatus
+play, and disappeared into my dressing-room below, which fortunately
+closed above me. I dressed, and rushed to your room to rescue my
+treasures.”
+
+“Even in this extreme danger you only thought of your riches, not of
+me,” said Cagliostro, with a bitter smile.
+
+“Have you not taught me yourself that money was the only thing worth
+striving to possess? Have you not revealed to in wisdom that riches
+alone make us happy, and procure for us honor, power, love, and
+constancy? Ah! Joseph, have you not made me the miserable, heartless
+creature that I am? Can you reproach me that your teaching has borne
+such good fruit? I am happy to be the priestess of wealth, and grateful
+for what you have made known to me.”
+
+“It is true,” sighed Cagliostro, “I have taught you the truth of things;
+I have disclosed to you the world’s motive power. Riches are indeed the
+god upon earth, toward whom all are pressing, rushing on. We must all
+follow and serve him as slaves, or be crushed under the wheels of his
+triumphal car. Men talk and reason about the storm and pressure which
+is spreading through the world, and finally will reduce every thing to
+storm the eternal and undying bliss of wealth, and press on for gold.”
+
+“To think that we have lost every thing!” cried Lorenza, springing up
+and stamping with her silken-shod foot; “every thing is lost that I have
+been years gaining, by hypocrisy, deception, and coquetry. They have
+robbed me! The shameful barbarians have seized all our effects. The
+police surrounded the house, guarding every entrance, and we were
+obliged to escape by the roof into the house of one of the brothers,
+leaving all our treasures behind.”
+
+“You exaggerate, Lorenza, and represent it worse than it is. Look
+around; you are surrounded with luxury and comfort. Our great
+undertakings in Courland and St. Petersburg have failed, it is true, and
+the Russian empress has ordered me to be driven away and pursued. But
+the Invisible Fathers have not forsaken me, as they know that I am a
+useful tool in their hands. They have carefully provided me with money,
+passports, and instructions. We have lost thousands, but we will regain
+them, for the future is ours. I am protected by the order, and called
+to a new and important mission in Paris, to strive for the sacred aim of
+the Church.”
+
+“And have they no mission for me?” asked Lorenza. “Is there nothing
+further for me to do in that city than to be a beautiful woman, and play
+tricks for my dear husband?”
+
+“Great events await you in Paris, which we will aid you to prepare. The
+Invisible Fathers send you before me to the Cardinal de Rohan. You are
+going to Paris in the service of the revolution of minds. The carriage
+is ordered, and you are to set off this very hour.”
+
+“And when are you going, Joseph?” Lorenza asked, with a touch of
+melancholy.
+
+“I shall officially depart in an hour, but in reality at the same
+time that the Baroness von Balmore leaves the hotel in her
+travelling-carriage. Near the waiting-maid will a servant sit upon the
+box. I shall be he.”
+
+“Officially you depart in an hour; what does that mean?” Cagliostro
+smiled. “It is a long story and a comical one. Come, seat yourself by
+me upon the sofa; repose your head upon me, and listen to what I will
+relate to you.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. MIRACLES AND SPIRITS.
+
+
+Late in the afternoon of the same day a travelling-carriage drove up
+before the hotel “King of Portugal,” in the Burgstrasse, with two
+large black trunks strapped upon it behind the footman’s box, and the
+postilion, sitting by the coachman, playing the beautiful and popular
+air, “Es ritten drei Reuter cum Thore hinaus!”
+
+Count St. Julien descended the stairs, followed by the host, and nodded
+in a lofty manner to the two waiters and hostler awaiting him at the
+entrance, who returned it by a profound bow, at the same time not
+failing to see the white hand extended with the trinkgeld.
+
+The host himself closed the carriage door, and the count departed amid
+the merry peals of the postilion, the former gazing after him with the
+satisfaction of one who has made a good bargain. The servants watched
+it, too, until it had disappeared around the corner of the next street.
+
+At this instant the quivering tones of a post-horn were heard, and an
+open caleche appeared and stopped before the hotel with two large black
+travelling-trunks upon it, and the postilion upon the box blowing the
+popular air, “Es ritten drei Reuter zum Thore hinaus!”
+
+The host observed the empty carriage with a smile, but the servants
+asked themselves astonished what it meant, and as they turned and saw
+Count St. Julien descending the stairs, they were startled. He offered
+them the usual trinkgeld, entered the carriage, and rolled away with a
+commanding nod.
+
+The host seemed speechless with astonishment, and stood as if rooted
+to the spot. The servants stared after the carriage until it turned
+the corner; when just then a post-horn was heard playing the agreeable
+melody of “Drei Reuter,” and a travelling-carriage with two large black
+trunks drove up to the door.
+
+The servants turned pale, looking shyly toward the stairs. Slowly and
+with great dignity Count St. Julien descended, greeting them with a
+gentlemanly nod as he passed, and, extending his white hand with a
+trinkgeld, mounted his carriage, and drove away.
+
+The host stood as if stunned, outside the door, looking right and left
+with unspeakable terror. The servants tremblingly fixed their eyes
+upon the stairs, no longer possessing the power to move, but heard the
+post-horn, and the carriage which drove up to the door the third time.
+Slowly and proudly Count St. Julien advanced. It was the same cold,
+grave face, with the thick black beard, and the powdered peruke, the
+curls of which overshadowed the brow and cheeks. He wore exactly the
+same dark-brown cloak over the black velvet dress. The white hand, with
+broad lace wrist-ruffles, reached them also a trinkgeld.
+
+This time the fellows had scarcely self-possession sufficient to take
+the present, for every thing swam before their eyes, and their hearts
+one moment almost ceased to beat, and then palpitated with the feverish
+rapidity of terror.
+
+“I would run away,” murmured the chief waiter, as Count St. Julien for
+the fourth time drove away, “if my feet were not riveted to the floor.”
+
+“If I could move mine I would have gone long ago,” groaned the second
+waiter, the clear drops standing upon his forehead. “It is witchcraft!
+Oh, Heaven! they are coming again, playing the ‘Drei Reuter.’”
+
+The count descended the stairs for the fifth time, whispered to
+the hostler, who was quite engrossed counting his money, handed the
+trinkgeld to the pale fellows by the door, and mounted his carriage,
+driving away amid the merry peals of the post-horn.
+
+“Julius,” murmured the steward, softly, “give my hair a good pulling,
+that I may awake from this horrible dream.”
+
+“I cannot,” he whimpered, “my hands and feet are lame. I cannot move.”
+
+“I will,” said the hostler, courageously stretching forth his hand, and
+pulling it so vigorously that the steward was fully convinced of the
+reality of things.
+
+Again the post-horn sounded the “Drei Reuter;” again the carriage
+stopped before the door, and the count descended, giving to every one a
+gift like the “Maedchen aus der Fremde,” and for the sixth time rolled
+away.
+
+“We are bewitched; it is a ghost from the infernal regions!” groaned the
+steward.
+
+“I cannot abide it any longer--I shall die!” said the second waiter.
+
+“I do not mind it,” said the hostler, as he jingled the money; “if they
+are ghosts from hell, the eight groschen do not come from there, for
+they are quite cool. See how--Ah, there comes the count again!”
+
+For the seventh time he passed down the stairway, by the servants, who
+wore no longer standing but kneeling, which the count received as a
+proof of their profound respect, and slipped the money into their hands.
+
+“Praise God, all good spirits!” murmured the head waiter; but neither
+the count nor the money seemed to be moved by the pious exhortation,
+for he quietly entered his carriage, and the eight groschen lay in the
+servant’s hand, at which the hostler remarked that he would stand there
+all night if the count would only continually pass by with groschen.
+It pleased the count to descend the stairs yet twice more, divide the
+trinkgeld, and mount his carriage. As he drove away the ninth time, it
+appeared as if the Drei Reuter were determined to drive out of the gate
+and forsake the hotel “King of Portugal.” The host waited awhile, and
+talked with the neighbors, who, roused by the continual blast of the
+post-horn, were curious to know how it happened that so many guests were
+departing by extra posts. Whereupon the host, in a hollow, sepulchral
+voice, his eyes glaring, and shrugging his shoulders, declared that
+there had been but one gentleman at the hotel, but nine times he had
+seen him drive away, and the devil must have a hand in the matter!
+
+Shaking his head, he returned to the hotel, and found the servants
+busily counting their money, occasionally casting covetous looks toward
+the stairs, as if they hoped the count would again descend.
+
+Exactly as Cagliostro had foretold, Minister Herzberg did not return
+from Sans-Souci until late in the evening, and then found Wilhelmine’s
+letter in his cabinet.
+
+Immediately the police were instructed to arrest Count St. Julien at the
+hotel “King of Portugal.”
+
+An hour later the chief of the police came to say that the count had
+already been gone two hours. He repeated the account of the host,
+corroborated by the servants, of nine different counts having driven
+away from the hotel.
+
+Herzberg smiled. “We have to deal with a very clever scoundrel,” said
+he, “and it is no other than the so-called Count Cagliostro, who was
+lately exposed as a bold trickster in Mittau and St. Petersburg, and
+about whose arrest the Empress Catharine is very much exercised. It
+would be very agreeable to the king to show this little attention to her
+imperial highness, and trap the adroit pickpocket.”
+
+“We might succeed in catching him in his flight,” remarked the chief.
+“For the last six months the king has given orders that every passport
+should be examined at the gates, and the route of the travellers noted
+down, which is all registered and sent to the king. It would be very
+easy to discover by which gate he departed, and his route, and then have
+him pursued.”
+
+“That is well thought of, director; hasten to put it into execution,
+and inform us of the result.” He returned in an hour to the minister’s
+cabinet, shaking his head gravely. “Your excellency, it is very strange,
+but he is a wizard. This man has driven out of the nine gates at the
+same hour and minute.”
+
+Herzberg laughed. “This is one of his tricks, and by it I recognize the
+great necromancer.”
+
+“Your excellency, this is no trickery, but witchery. It is impossible
+for any one man to drive out of the nine gates at the same hour, in the
+same carriage, with two large black trunks and a postilion blowing the
+same melody, and provided with a correct passport, which he shows and is
+recognized as Count St. Julien, who is going to Paris by Hamburg. Here
+are the nine registers from the different gates, all the same, if I am
+not bewitched and do not read straight.”
+
+“This trick does honor to the count,” said Herzberg, smiling. “To-morrow
+you shall accompany me to Sans-Souci and read aloud the registers to the
+king. Do you think it will be impossible to pursue the count now?”
+
+“I should be very happy to follow your excellency’s judgment in this
+matter, and arrest the rascal in any way that you could point out,” said
+the director.
+
+“I am convinced that he is in the city; and driving put of the nine
+gates at the same time was the best manner to escape being discovered,”
+ said Herzberg. “He is concealed in some one of the houses of the
+brothers, and we shall be obliged to let him escape this time.”
+
+In order the more securely to carry out the initiation of Prince
+Frederick William, in company with Bischofswerder and Woellner,
+Cagliostro had arranged his pretended departure. For a long time the
+prince had expressed an extreme desire to be received into the mysteries
+of the miraculous and holy order, of which he had heard his friends
+speak with so much reverence. But he had been put off from time to
+time with regrets and shrugs of the shoulders, and expressions of the
+impossibility of granting the request.
+
+“The spirits do not always appear even to the consecrated,” said
+Bischofswerder. “They make themselves known after many fervent prayers
+and implorings, and when we have withdrawn from every one who could
+entice us to doubt or disbelief. I fear that it would be impossible to
+conjure the spirits of the departed, so long as your highness honors a
+certain lady with your particular favor, who ridicules the sublime order
+and mingles with its enemies. How can they appear to those who have just
+been in the company of a friend of the Illuminati and unbelievers?”
+
+“The spirit-world only reveals itself to the virtuous and pure,” said
+Woellner, in a harsh, dry voice. “Its inhabitants cannot approach those
+who are not chaste and innocent, for sin and vice surround them with a
+thick fog, which keeps them at a distance from the clear atmosphere
+of the sublime. If you would call up the spirits, you must remove this
+woman who entices you from the path of virtue, and renders the sphere
+impure around you.”
+
+Despite the warnings and the great wish the prince had to be received
+into the spirit-world, and become a member of the highest grade of
+the Rosicrucians, he could not resolve to forsake her who had been his
+friend for ten years, and who had borne shame and degradation on his
+account, refusing eligible and rich men rather than leave him and become
+a legitimate wife. Wilhelmine was the beloved of his youth, the mother
+of his two dear children, and she alone knew how to drive away the ennui
+which pursued the prince, with her amiable, subtle wit. Nay, he could
+not be so ungrateful, so heartless, as to reject her who had so tenderly
+loved him when young and beautiful, now that the first bloom of youth
+and beauty had faded!
+
+Bischofswerder and Woellner recognized this difficulty, and applied
+themselves the more energetically for its removal. They supposed that
+the unexpected arrival of Cagliostro would very naturally appear to the
+prince as a special messenger, sent, without doubt, from the fathers,
+to accomplish his conversion. They announced to the prince that the
+Invisibles had taken pity upon his desire for knowledge, and had
+consented to permit him to gaze into the regions of the blest, although
+he wandered in the path of vice, and that he must hold himself in
+readiness to accompany the messenger whenever he should be sent to call
+him.
+
+For this reason the crown prince had written to Wilhelmine that she
+should not expect him until the following morning, and he did not quit
+his room the entire day, with excited expectation awaiting the summons.
+As evening set in the prince was cast down, and quite of the opinion
+that the Invisibles did not deem him worthy to enter their pure
+presence, and thought that Wilhelmine must be the hinderance. Whilst he
+was reflecting whether to sacrifice his beloved to the salvation of his
+soul, the secret door gently opened, and two men, masked and wrapped in
+black cloaks, entered and placed themselves near the door. The prince
+did not remark their entrance, and was quite frightened as he chanced to
+turn, and saw these two immovable figures.
+
+With quivering voice he demanded their mission.
+
+In the same tone, as if one were an echo of the other, they answered,
+“We desire nothing, but you demand knowledge of the spirit-world, and
+would have its mysteries revealed to you, which the Invisibles will now
+grant you. Follow us, therefore!” They reopened the secret door; one of
+the masked preceded the prince, and the other followed him.
+
+The prince shuddered at the thought that he might be rushing into some
+unknown danger, and intrusting himself to those who would misuse his
+confidence. He demanded to see their faces, declaring himself prepared
+to follow, when acquainted with his guides.
+
+“It would then be better to remain,” replied one of the masked. “He
+who lacks confidence is not worthy of it, and he who trusts only the
+Visibles, the Invisibles flee.”
+
+The prince recognized the voice of Bischofswerder, and smiled, but
+he knew not that it was permitted him to hear it to inspire him with
+courage.
+
+“Well, so let it be; the fathers shall see that I am a believer,” cried
+the prince.
+
+Immediately one of the brothers put his own cloak, three-cornered hat,
+and mask upon his highness, still remaining cloaked and masked himself,
+much to the astonishment of the passive prince. “Come, now, the
+Invisibles await you,” said one of the masked. The prince stepped
+courageously into the little corridor which led to the secret stairway,
+one brother preceding him, causing a soft light to illumine their path,
+the other following him.
+
+In silence they reached the side-door of the palace, where a close
+carriage awaited them.
+
+“Where are you taking me?” asked Frederick William, as he entered,
+followed by the two brothers.
+
+“To the Invisibles,” answered a strange voice.
+
+Again the prince essayed to begin a conversation, his only response
+being, “Purify your heart and pray.” Silently they galloped over paved
+and unpaved streets, the prince heartily repenting having been drawn
+into this adventure. He thought of his charming and beloved Wilhelmine,
+and half determined to give the command to drive to Charlottenburg. The
+fact of Bischofswerder being with him, and fearful of appearing weak
+and wanting in courage in the eyes of his friend and favorite, prevented
+him.
+
+After several hours’ drive, they stopped at the marble palace of
+Potsdam, near the one which the prince was accustomed to occupy. His
+highness looked cautiously around, and breathed more freely, as he felt
+that he was now surely among friends.
+
+The white palace stood silent and deserted in the darkness, this palace
+at Potsdam being only used for the guests of the king. The carriage
+stopped at the side-door, where there was no sentinel, and they
+alighted, entering the palace, winding along the corridors in the same
+order as before, guided by the glimmering light of the one preceding.
+Solemn music, strange ringing sounds, fell upon the ear as they
+advanced. Sometimes they were sharp and cutting as glass, then
+threatening and penetrating as the wind, shrieking and moaning, causing
+one to be very nervous if not terrified.
+
+The farther they proceeded the louder grew the sounds, and at intervals
+groans, moans and wailings were heard, as of those waiting and imploring
+for mercy.
+
+One of the brothers now opened a door, and then placing themselves
+upon each side, the unknown voice announced to the prince that they had
+arrived at the long-sought-for goal.
+
+“What have we come here for?” asked the prince.
+
+“To behold that which you have many times petitioned to be permitted to
+see,” replied Bischofswerder, gently encouraging and inspiring Frederick
+William. “The Invisibles have at last yielded to your wishes, and the
+spirits which you summon will appear. If your courage fails you, and you
+dread the presence of the departed, command to be reconducted to your
+palace, and we will obey; but renounce forever the sublime happiness
+of beholding the Invisibles and of holding communion with the
+spirit-world!”
+
+“I fear not, but wish to be in the company of the spirits,” answered the
+prince, proudly.
+
+“Kneel,” they commanded, permitting him to enter, “and thrice summon
+in a loud voice the names of three departed, who will answer your
+questions. Beware of approaching them, for their glance is death and
+their breath destruction! Therefore remain kneeling, as it becomes a
+mortal in the presence of an immortal. Hope and pray, brother!”
+
+As the door closed upon the prince, and he found himself in such
+impenetrable darkness, he sank upon his knees, for he dared not advance,
+and retreat was impossible, in spite of heart-quakings.
+
+The shrill, penetrating music ceased, and a voice from a distance
+called: “Summon thrice those that thou desirest to see.”
+
+“Marcus Aurelius, Leibnitz, and the distinguished elector,” called the
+prince in a loud voice.
+
+“Who summoned me?” was responded in hollow, sepulchral tones, and
+directly over the crown prince a blue, vaporous light was visible--at
+first only a cloud, then by degrees increasing and condensing itself
+into a human shape, until it took the form of a Roman warrior of the
+olden time; no other than Marcus Aurelius, in helmet and coat-of-mail,
+with a pale, earth-colored face and glaring eyes.
+
+“Who summoned me?” repeated the figure. The prince’s lips refused to
+respond, and shuddering he gazed upon the corpse-like face, so exact in
+feature to the old Roman emperor.
+
+“You answer me not!” thundered the voice, “but I will tell you who you
+are--one lost in sin and an apostate!--the crown prince of Prussia,
+a future king, who will be called to govern a people, and knows not
+self-government! Turn from the path of vice while it is yet time; rise
+from the dust, that the ashes of retribution do not bury you in a living
+tomb, like the sinful Pompeians. No monument marks the place of
+the sinful; he sinks into the night of oblivion, or he is cursed by
+succeeding generations. Therefore turn from the errors of sin. Rise to
+virtue, that the blessed may approach you. I shudder in your presence.
+Woe to you! woe! woe!”
+
+The cloud-portrait vanished, and darkness reigned for a moment. The
+prince cried in anguish: “I will hear no more; this air oppresses
+me--open the door--I renounce communion with the spirits; I will go
+out!”
+
+The light reappeared in the dark room and another form hovered over the
+prince--of grave, obscure face, with a great peruke, staring at him. He
+recognized the distinguished philosopher Leibnitz, whom he had desired
+to see, but who now filled him with unspeakable terror. Like the
+former spirit, he also, when unanswered, reproached the erring prince,
+conjuring him to return to virtue.
+
+As the menacing ghost disappeared, the prince felt for the door, and
+shook it with the power which terror lends, crying, “Open, open!”
+ It opened not, and the third summoned, the great elector, Frederick
+William, appeared, with high, up-lifted arm, glittering eyes, advancing
+with angry mien, shaking his lion’s mane against the erring son of his
+house, whom he menaced with curses and revenge, if he did not renounce
+the courtesan who had seduced him to vice and unchastity.
+
+“I will become better,” groaned the prince. “I will perform the wish of
+the spirits. Only have mercy on me--free me. Help! help! Open the door,
+Bischofswerder, I will do better. Open the door!”
+
+This time it really opened, and a long train of dark, masked forms
+entered the dusky room surrounding the prince, wringing their hands,
+imploring him to turn from sin, and forsake the unholy woman.
+
+They whimpered, they implored, sinking upon their knees, beating their
+clinched hands, and weeping: “Turn, beloved elect! Renounce Wilhelmine
+Enke; renounce vice! Repulse the seductress, and turn your countenance
+to Virtue which you have seen in all her beauty!”
+
+“I will perform that which you demand,” wept the prince, as the deathly
+terror and nervous excitement made him yielding.
+
+“Swear!” cried the chorus of masks.
+
+“I swear that Wilhelmine Enke shall no longer be my mistress. I swear by
+all that is holy that I will renounce her! I--”
+
+Voice failed him; there was a ringing and buzzing in his ears; every
+thing swam before his eyes, and he sank fainting. The prince awoke after
+long unconsciousness, and found himself upon his bed in the new palace
+at Potsdam, Bischofswerder at his side, watching him with the tenderest
+sympathy. He bent over him and pressed his hand to his lips with a
+cry of delight. “Heaven be praised; my dear prince, you have awaked to
+commence a new life! You now belong to the virtuous and honorable, whom
+the Invisible Fathers bless!”
+
+“Is it true, Bischofswerder,” said the prince, languidly, “that I have
+sworn to renounce Wilhelmine Enke, and never to love her more?”
+
+“You have sworn it by all that is holy, and all in heaven and on earth
+have heard your oath, and there is joy thereat.”
+
+The prince turned his head, that Bischofswerder might not see the tears
+streaming down his cheeks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. THE RETURN HOME.
+
+
+The beautiful house which Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen possessed upon the
+finest street in Berlin, “Unter den Linden,” had been newly arranged and
+splendidly ornamented since his marriage and elevation to a title, and
+now awaited his arrival. For many weeks mechanics and artists had
+been busily employed; and the good housekeeper, old Trude, saw with
+bewildering astonishment the daily increasing splendor of gilded
+furniture, costly mirrors and chandeliers, soft carpets, tapestries, and
+gold-embroidered curtains, exquisite paintings and statuary, which
+the possessor had forwarded from Italy, and many other objects of art
+standing upon gilt and marble tables.
+
+Every thing was completed. The bustle of the busy workmen had ceased,
+and Trude slowly wandered through the solitary rooms, examining every
+article. Her face bespoke dissatisfaction, and a smile of contempt was
+visible there.
+
+“Miserable trash, for which they have sold my poor child!” murmured the
+old woman. “For these worthless, glittering toys have they ruined the
+happiness of the dear innocent heart, and on them the guilt will fall if
+her soul is lost! I remark how she is changed in her letters since her
+shameful, mercenary marriage. She writes of nothing but the arrangement
+of her house, and speaks as if the beauty and costliness of things were
+only to be thought of, and there is not even a confidential, heart-felt
+word for her old Trude. It would seem as if she had forgotten all former
+objects of interest. Oh, what trouble and sorrows the rich have! That
+good-for-nothing money hardens their hearts and makes them evil and
+selfish.”
+
+The loud ringing of a bell sounded through the solitary drawing-rooms.
+
+“That is, undoubtedly, the general’s wife,” said Trude, shaking her
+head. “She rings as if she would announce the king, with her nose turned
+up so high, or as if she were the money-sacks of her son-in-law!”
+
+Trude was right; her shrill voice was heard ordering the steward, who
+had but just arrived. “It is abominable, it is unheard of!” she cried,
+as with a heavy push she burst open the door; “this man presumes to
+contradict me, and--ah, there you are, Trude!”
+
+“Here I am,” she answered; “were you looking for me?”
+
+“Yes, and I would ask you if my orders are not the same as if given by
+Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen or his wife, or have you instructed the new
+steward otherwise, which, it is laughable to say, you have engaged?”
+
+“No, I have not instructed him thus. Dear Marie has not ordered it in
+her letter.”
+
+“Dear Marie,” repeated Frau von Werrig. “How can you permit yourself to
+speak so intimately of the rich Baroness von Ebenstreit?”
+
+“Very true, it is not right,” sighed Trude; “I beg pardon.”
+
+“I came here to see if every thing was in readiness, and ordered the
+steward to ornament the doors and corridors with garlands of flowers; he
+has had the boldness to tell me he dares not do it!”
+
+“He is right, Frau von Leuthen. Baroness Ebenstreit von Leuthen (have I
+got the title right?) wrote and expressly forbade any festivity to greet
+her arrival. Here is the letter--I carry it around with me; I will read
+it to you: ‘I expressly forbid any manifestation whatever to be made at
+our return, whether of garlands or flowers, as they are only hypocrisy
+and falsehood. I wish no one there to receive me--remember, Trude, no
+one! Inform my family that, as soon as I have recovered from the fatigue
+of the journey, I will make them the visit of duty with the baron.’”
+
+“What cold, heartless words are these! One could hardly believe that a
+daughter was writing of her parents.”
+
+“On her wedding-day she perhaps forgot that she had any,” said Trude,
+shrugging her shoulders, “and she should not be at once reminded of that
+trying occasion on her return. I expect her every moment, as the courier
+has already arrived an hour ago, and it would be better--”
+
+“You cannot be so impudent as to tell me to leave? Indeed, I will not be
+prevented from waiting to receive my only child that I have not seen for
+three years. One can well believe that a mother would be impatient to
+embrace her dear daughter! I have no other happiness but my beloved
+child, and I long, unspeakably, to press her to my heart and tell her my
+sorrow.”
+
+“Sorrow! is it possible that Frau von Werrig has any griefs? I supposed
+there was nothing in the world troubled her.”
+
+“And yet I am very much tormented. I can well tell you, Trude, as you
+are familiar with our circumstances,” sighed the countess. “You know the
+general is tolerably well; the journeys to Wiesbaden and Teplitz have
+cured him of the gout unfortunately, so that he can go about.”
+
+“Are you sorry for that, Frau von Werrig?”
+
+“Certainly I am, Trude, as he has returned to his former habits,
+frequenting the society of drinking-houses and gamblers. Imagine the
+general played yesterday, lost all his ready money, and that was not
+enough, but signed away the year’s pension from Herr von Ebenstreit,
+during which time we have nothing but the miserable army annuity to live
+upon.”
+
+“Then your income will be less to live upon than formerly, for dear
+Marie earned something with her flowers and lessons which she gave to
+you, although she was never thanked for it. She was then my dear
+good Marie, so industrious and patient, and worked untiringly for her
+parents! Then she forgot them not, and toiled early and late, and, oh,
+it breaks my heart to think of it, and I must cry in your presence!”
+
+She raised the corner of her dark-blue apron and dried her eyes, holding
+it there as she continued to weep.
+
+“What an ugly apron!” cried the countess, “and how meanly you are
+dressed altogether! Is that the way you intend to go looking as the
+housekeeper of a rich and genteel family? Go, Trude, quickly, and put
+something better on, that you may receive your master and mistress in a
+suitable dress.”
+
+“I shall remain as I am, for I am very properly dressed. It may not
+be suitable for a housekeeper, but it becomes old Trude, and it is my
+Sunday frock, which I always wore when I was maid-of-all-work to you.
+You may not remember it, but dear Marie (I should say Baroness von
+Ebenstreit) will, perhaps, and it may recall her little room in the
+garret, and then--”
+
+“And then she will at last think, Trude, how we took care of her, and
+how thankful she ought to be to her parents that they married her to a
+rich man. If Marie sees it at last--”
+
+“You forget with whom you speak, Frau von Werrig,” Trude interrupted
+her, scornfully, “and that it does not become you to speak of Marie to
+old Trude, but you should remember her title.”
+
+“Well, then, when Baroness von Ebenstreit enters this costly house, she
+must understand that her mother was mindful of her best interests, and
+that she owes all this to her; and you, Trude, must remind her of it,
+and tell her about my dreadful trial with her father, and that it is my
+daughter’s duty to release me from it, and beg her husband not to deduct
+the gambling-debt from the pension, but pay it this once. For it would
+be a dreadful injustice to make me suffer for the general’s rage for
+play, and show but little gratitude for the riches which I brought her.
+You will tell my daughter all this, Trude, and--”
+
+“I will not tell her any thing at all, Frau von Werrig,” interrupted.
+Trude, warmly. “May my good genius keep me from that, and burdening
+my conscience with such falsehoods.--Hark! A carriage is coming, and a
+post-horn sounded. They have arrived!”
+
+Old Trude hurried out just as they drove up to the door. The steward and
+two servants in livery rushed down the steps to assist them to alight,
+and Trude also to greet her favorite, who was now so pale, grave, and
+chilling in her appearance.
+
+The large eyes of the lady rested with cold indifference upon the old
+woman, whose eyes were turned to her with the tenderest expression. “I
+thank you,” she said, coldly. “Husband! I beg you to give me your arm.”
+ Proudly she passed the statuary, and over the soft carpets without
+comment, or even a word for old Trude.
+
+The steward and housekeeper followed the silent couple.
+
+“Shall I take you to your room first?” asked Ebenstreit, “or will you do
+me the pleasure to look at the newly-arranged drawing-rooms?”
+
+“Certainly,” she replied, with indifference. “We will first look at the
+drawing-rooms, as we shall probably receive much company this winter,
+and they are of the first importance. You know that I dislike solitude.”
+
+“Indeed, I recall that we are very seldom alone!” sighed her husband.
+
+“It would be fearful if we were,” replied his wife, with marked
+indifference.
+
+The steward just now opened the little door of the ante-room, sparkling
+with chandeliers and mirrors. “Ah! this is really beautiful, and well
+chosen,” cried Ebenstreit, looking about with an air of great pride and
+satisfaction. “Tell me, Marie, is it not worthy of you?”
+
+Glancing coldly around, she replied: “It does not please at all. The
+furniture is very costly, and reminds one of the parvenu. Every thing
+recalls the riches of the newly-titled banker.”
+
+Her husband’s brow contracted, but he did not trust himself to contest
+his dissatisfaction with his cold, proud wife, but sought another vent
+for it.
+
+“You are very unkind, Marie. Have the goodness to tell me how you, with
+these severe ideas, can suffer that Trude for a moment should appear
+before us in this poor-looking dress which, indeed, does not recall any
+wealth!”
+
+Frau von Ebenstreit’s eyes glanced quickly over the old who, she
+said, was the only object which did not bespeak the gaudiness of
+newly-acquired wealth, but she appeared as the respectable servant of an
+old and noble family in fitting dress. “Remain as you are, Trude, and do
+not let yourself be misled by our follies! I--but what is that I see?”
+ she cried as the steward opened the next door at the silent nod of her
+husband.
+
+“Oh, my beloved children, there you are at last; after three years’
+absence I have the happiness to embrace you, my only daughter,” cried
+Frau von Werrig, as she approached them with outstretched arms and an
+affectionate smile, essaying to throw her arms around Marie’s neck, who
+waved her back.
+
+“My child, my child,” whimpered the mother, “is it possible that my
+daughter can receive me thus after so long a separation?”
+
+Turning to Trude, Marie asked her, with a reproving look and tone,
+if she had received her letter, or if she had forgotten her express
+commands that no one but the servants should be in the house to receive
+them.
+
+“I did not forget it, my lady, and I have read the orders to Frau von
+Werrig, but she--”
+
+“Knew that this wish had no reference to her, as she is her mother--Tell
+me, my beloved son, is it not very natural and fitting that I should be
+here to receive you?’
+
+“I find it a matter of course,” answered Von Ebenstreit, to whom it
+appeared a relief to find an ally in the mother against his proud and
+beautiful wife. “I rejoice to see our dear mother here, and I beg Marie
+will join me.”
+
+Marie cast an angry glance toward her husband, which so confused
+and perplexed him, that he looked down. Then advancing toward the
+drawing-room, with her usual cold demeanor, without further comment upon
+the ostentatious furniture, she commanded her husband to follow, who
+obeyed, giving his arm to his mother-in-law.
+
+“Oh, this is glorious!” he cried, smiling. “What splendor, what luxury!
+Tell me, my dear mother, is not this beautiful reception-room very
+aristocratically and appropriately fitted up?”
+
+“I should think a princess or a queen might be satisfied with it,” she
+cried, with enthusiasm. “Even in royal palaces there is nothing of the
+kind to compare to this gold-embroidered tapestry.”
+
+“Baron,” said Marie, commandingly, “have the kindness to dismiss the
+steward. I wish to speak with you and Frau von Werrig.”
+
+The steward slipped out without waiting to be sent, and Trude stood
+near the door, turning to the young baroness, as if to ask if she might
+remain.
+
+“Did you not hear, Trude?” cried the mother, impatiently. “Tell her to
+go!”
+
+“Remain, Trude,” said Marie, quietly. “You are familiar with the past. I
+have nothing to deny to you; shut the door and stay here.--And now,”
+ she continued, as her voice lost its gentleness, when she addressed
+her mother, “if it is agreeable to you, I should like to have an
+understanding with you!”
+
+“But, my child,” sighed the mother, “how strangely altered you are! You
+address me, your mother, as Frau von Werrig, and you speak to Ebenstreit
+in a very formal manner, who has been your dear, faithful husband for
+three years. Oh, my darling son, what does this ceremonious manner
+mean?”
+
+“The very first hour, after our marriage, that we were alone my dear
+Marie severely reproved me for having addressed her in an intimate,
+affectionate manner, like the common class, as she called it, and I have
+never done so since.”
+
+“You must be convinced that I am right,” said Marie, calmly, “and that
+it does not become two beings, who neither love nor esteem each other,
+and who live in the most ceremonious manner, to address one another with
+endearing epithets. At any rate we are not accountable to any one, and
+Frau von Leuthen must know the relations we bear to each other in the
+so-called marriage, as it is her arrangement for the most part.”
+
+“And I pride myself upon it,” she cried, with animation. “I have brought
+about this marriage, which is good fortune to us, and I hope my daughter
+will prove her gratitude, and my son will show me the affection he has
+so often sworn to me.”
+
+“I do not know what my husband may have sworn to you, but permit me to
+say, I do not understand whom you, Frau von Werrig, address as daughter
+here; if you accidentally refer to me, you are in error; I have never
+possessed a mother to love me, although formerly, during long years I
+endeavored with tender assiduity to win a parent’s heart. That is
+long past, however. The very day that I married Herr von Ebenstreit I
+renounced all family ties, and resolved to be self-reliant. My husband
+will witness that he has never known me to yield, and that I have always
+been firm and resolute in my decision.”
+
+“No one would doubt it,” replied Ebenstreit, timidly. “We had a very
+strange marriage, which scarce deserves the name. We resemble more two
+companions who have joined in business, the one side reluctantly, and
+the other joyfully. I long for a happy married life, which has been
+quite impossible thus far.”
+
+“And will be to the end, which you will yet learn; and Fran von Werrig
+should understand it, as she brought about the union, and should not be
+in doubt as to the conclusion.”
+
+“I acknowledge that I am almost speechless and quite paralyzed with that
+which I see and hear. I should doubt that this cold, proud woman before
+me were my daughter, if it were not for the name she bears, and her
+features.”
+
+“That which you and my husband have caused me to become. He knew that
+I neither loved nor esteemed him, and that a union with him seemed so
+unendurable that I would have sought refuge in death, if I had not vowed
+to support life to attain the aim which I imposed upon myself. That is
+all past; it is the future which we must arrange. I am glad that you are
+here, Frau von Werrig, that we may understand each other once for all;
+but you came against my wishes.”
+
+“You must excuse it, dear Marie. It was the longing of mother’s heart
+which led me hither; the love--”
+
+A cold, contemptuous glance of the large eyes caused the mother to
+cease, and quail before her daughter.
+
+After a short pause Marie continued: “I wish to exercise alone and
+unhindered the executive rights of a lady in her own house. Do you
+acknowledge the justice of this, my husband?”
+
+“Perfectly and unconditionally, dear Marie. You know that I have no
+other will but yours, which is my highest happiness to submit myself
+to in all things, always hoping to gain your love and win your heart;
+that--”
+
+“That this woman has changed to stone,” said Marie, coldly, pointing to
+her mother. “As you then recognize me as the mistress of this house, I
+shall avail myself of my just right, and no one can prevent me, for I
+stand alone, absolved from all family ties. By my birth and your riches,
+I shall occupy the position of a woman of the world, and as such I shall
+live.”
+
+“I am delighted to hear it, Marie,” cried her husband. “For this reason
+I have had the drawing-rooms furnished in the most costly manner, and
+I shall be proud to receive the aristocratic society who will come to
+render homage to my wife, as they have done everywhere in Paris, London,
+Rome, Madrid, and St. Petersburg. We have frequented the highest circle
+in all these cities, and they have crowded our drawing-rooms, charmed
+with the beauty, distinguished manners, tone of the world, of your
+daughter.”
+
+“I beg of you to make but one subject the sole object of conversation,”
+ said Marie, harshly. “I have said that I will avail myself of the
+privilege, as mistress of this house, of receiving no one whom I do
+not wish to see, and no one can enter without consent. Is it clearly
+understood, husband?”
+
+“Yes,” he answered, somewhat agitated; “it is the right of every
+housekeeper--I understand you.”
+
+“It is also clear to me,” cried Frau von Werrig, with difficulty
+suppressing her wrath. “But I will await the decisive word, and see
+whether it is possible for a daughter to have the insolent presumption
+to drive he mother from her house!”
+
+“I have already informed you that I have no mother, and that no one has
+the right to call me daughter. If you await my decision, you shall now
+hear it; you are not included among those that I wish to receive in my
+house!”
+
+“Ah, dear Marie, you are cruel!” cried her husband, quite frightened.
+
+“She is a degenerate, good-for-nothing creature!” cried the mother.
+
+“If I am so, who has caused it but you, both of you? Who broke my heart,
+and crushed it under foot until it ceased to feel, and turned to stone?
+Bear the consequences of your cruelty and heartlessness! I cannot change
+it, and I repeat, Frau von Werrig has not the right to enter this house,
+or to remain here any longer!”
+
+Scalding tears fell from the mother’s eyes as she shrieked, “She drives
+me from her house!”
+
+“I am only treating you as you behaved to one of the noblest and best
+of men,” replied Marie, voice and look betraying her deep feeling. “You
+thrust from your door, with scorn and contempt, a man worthy of your
+esteem and recognition, although you knew that my heart was breaking.
+I am only following your example and exercising my just rights, and am
+less guilty than you are, as neither of us has need of the respect or
+esteem of the other.”
+
+“Can you suffer this, my son? Do you allow any one in your presence
+to treat me so shamefully? After all, it is your house; do speak and
+exercise your right as master here: tell your wife that I am her mother,
+and you, my adopted son, who bears my name, and that I have the just
+right to come here as often as it pleases me.”
+
+“Speak your mind to Frau von Werrig,” said Marie, as Ebenstreit remained
+silent. “Decide which shall remain, as one or the other of us must
+leave; you are perfectly free to choose.”
+
+“Then, naturally, there is no choice left me,” replied Ebenstreit,
+despondingly. “I declare myself for my wife, of course, who is the
+noblest and proudest beauty in Berlin, and will make my house the centre
+of attraction to the aristocracy, nobility, and wealth. This is my
+greatest pride, and to secure this I wooed my beautiful bride, and have
+submitted to all the sorrow and humiliation which have been my portion.
+If I must choose between the mother and daughter, I naturally prefer the
+latter.”
+
+“He abandons me also!” cried the mother. “You are an ungrateful,
+wretched man! You forget that you owe every thing to me, and that
+without me you were a miserable mercenary, whose stupidity and
+tediousness were the ridicule of every one, and you had never gained the
+entrance to a genteel house. What have you now become? A high-born man,
+whose house every one will crowd, and who could even appear at court, as
+he bears our noble and distinguished name. To whom do you owe all this,
+but to me alone?”
+
+“God in heaven, Thou hearest it!” cried Marie, solemnly, with uplifted
+arms. “She acknowledges that she alone has brought this misfortune upon
+me, and in this hour I stand justified.”
+
+“Pardon, Frau von Werrig,” said Ebenstreit, haughtily; “you are going
+too far. After my fortune, I thank you for my position. I am certainly
+of insignificant birth, but I am ambitious and rich. I said to myself,
+‘Money can bring about all that I wish,’ and you see it has accomplished
+it. My wealth procured me a title, a splendid house, a beautiful wife,
+and a position in society. I acknowledge that you aided me in the
+carrying out of my plans, but you would not have done it, if I had not
+been in a position to pay you. You receive a very considerable annuity
+from me, therefore you cannot accuse me of ingratitude, but must confess
+that you have driven a very good bargain. You must forgive me if I beg
+of you to end this painful scene.”
+
+“That means that I must leave,” said Frau von Werrig, mildly,
+remembering the gambling debt and the annuity. “Very well, I will go,
+and promise you never to return, upon two conditions.”
+
+“Have the goodness to communicate them,” said Ebenstreit.
+
+“The first is, pay the gambling-debt of my husband, who has played
+away the entire sum you allow us yearly, and do not deduct it from our
+income. The second is, increase your allowance five hundred thalers,
+without letting the general know it, and pay it to me.”
+
+“It is impossible,” cried Ebenstreit, terrified. “You mistake me for a
+Croesus, whose wealth is inexhaustible. If this expenditure and demand
+increase, my colossal fortune will be entirely wasted, and--”
+
+“You exaggerate,” interrupted Marie, with a peculiar brilliancy in her
+eyes. “Such wealth as yours is never-ending, and the banking business,
+which you are still engaged in under another name, is an inexhaustible
+source of wealth. I beg you to accept these conditions, that we may at
+last be at peace.”
+
+“Very well,” said Ebenstreit, to whom the words of Marie sounded as the
+sweetest music. “I will then accord your wishes, and you shall have the
+five hundred thalers for yourself.”
+
+“For me alone?”
+
+“Yes, for yourself alone, Frau von Werrig.”
+
+“Who vouches for the fulfilment of your promise?”
+
+“My word, Frau von Werrig.”
+
+“I have no confidence but in a written promise.”
+
+“Then I will have it made out, and bring you the document to-morrow
+morning.”
+
+“Then our business is finished, and I can go.--Farewell, baroness;
+this is my last word to you. I cursed you from the moment you came into
+being. If you had been a son, the rich estate in trust of my family
+would have passed to you, of which I was the natural heir. As it was,
+it went to a distant relative, and we received nothing. Therefore your
+parents could not rejoice at your birth, and we only pardoned you
+when you married a rich man, who could free us from want, and now
+the separation is no grief to us. You have always been a disagreeable
+burden, and I am only quit of a discomfort, and renounce forever the
+sight of you.--Give me your arm, my son, and accompany me at least
+to the threshold of your house, that you may be able to say to this
+cold-hearted viper, that she is forever rid of the sight of her mother,
+who will never think of her but with chilling contempt.” She seized
+Ebenstreit by the arm, who had not the courage to resist her, and drew
+him along with her, casting a look of supreme disgust at old Trude, who
+stood pale and sad near the door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. BEHIND THE MASK.
+
+
+As the door closed, and Marie found herself alone with her old friend
+and nurse, a peculiar change was visible in her sad face; something of
+its former sunny radiance brightened its usually sorrowful expression,
+and she turned to greet Trude with the smile of earlier, happier days,
+though it was tinged with sadness and grief. Impulsively she threw her
+arms around her faithful nurse, kissing her, and, with quivering lip,
+whispering: “A greeting and a blessing for you, dear mother! Take me to
+your kind, disinterested heart, and let me there find repose from all
+this torture and love the poor lost one, who--”
+
+She drew suddenly back, her face assuming its usually cold, look as she
+heard her husband enter.
+
+“She is gone, dear Marie. I hope that you are gratified with my
+decision, and perceive therein a proof of my excessive love and esteem
+for you,” said Ebenstreit, drawing a long breath.
+
+“I did not desire this polite evidence of it,” she coldly responded. “We
+have solemnized our entrance into this house in a fitting manner, and
+the important matter remaining for us is to make known our arrival to
+the society of Berlin. The horses purchased in Alexandria, and the new
+carriage from London, have already arrived--have they not?”
+
+“My book-keeper so informed me a fortnight since, when we were in Paris,
+and complained of the enormous sum which he had to disburse.”
+
+“You must forbid him such a liberty once for all,” said she, and the
+strange blending of joy and scorn was visible in her face. “It is
+inadmissible for a subordinate to presume to complain to his master, or
+advise him. He has only to listen and obey. This all your inferiors must
+understand, and know that they will be dismissed who murmur or advise!”
+
+“I will instruct them accordingly,” he sighed, “though I must confess
+my head-man well understands financial operations, and during the many
+years that he has been with me has won the right to be consulted and
+advised with.”
+
+“Then prove your gratitude as it becomes a true cavalier and a
+nobleman,” dictated Marie. “Settle his salary as an annuity upon him,
+and replace him.”
+
+“But he receives very great wages, and is still very active, though
+advanced.”
+
+“The more the reason to pension him, that he may repose his remaining
+years and enjoy the fruit of his labors. But do as you like. I have only
+told you how a noble cavalier would act; if you choose to bargain and
+haggle, it is your own affair.”
+
+“Heaven keep me from acting otherwise than as a nobleman!” cried
+Ebenstreit.
+
+Marie nodded assent, desiring that the carriage might be ordered, with
+the Arab horses. “We will make our visits at once, as I will, for the
+first time, open our large house for a soiree to-morrow evening,” she
+added.
+
+“Ah, that is charming!” said Ebenstreit, delighted. “I shall at last
+have the opportunity of seeing the aristocratic Berlin society, and
+enter upon the rank of my new title.”
+
+“Yes,” she replied, with an expression of irrepressible scorn, “you will
+have this enjoyment. Send me the steward, I wish to give him a list of
+the invited guests. You can add to it at your pleasure.”
+
+“I have no one to invite,” cried her husband.
+
+“No matter! Make the necessary preparations. I will go to my room to
+make my toilet.”
+
+“Will you not allow me to accompany you? You are not yet familiar with
+the house.”
+
+“Trude will show it to me, and you can at the same time give the
+orders.”
+
+Nodding proudly to Ebenstreit, she told Trude to precede her, following
+the old woman through the suite of brilliant rooms.
+
+“Here is my lady’s dressing-room,” said Trude, entering one ornamented
+with mirrors, laces, and gauzes.
+
+The French waiting-maid was busy within, unpacking the large trunks
+filled with silk and satin dresses which had been purchased by the
+dozens in Paris.
+
+“Lay out an elegant visiting toilet; I will return directly, after Trude
+has shown me the house,” They entered the adjoining chamber, Marie’s
+sleeping-room and found the German maid arranging the lace and silk
+coverings for her mistress to repose herself after the long journey.
+Marie betrayed no inclination for repose, but questioned Trude as to
+whither the other door led to.
+
+“Into the little corridor, baroness.”
+
+“Did I not order that there should be but one entrance to my
+sleeping-room, and that from the dressing-room?”
+
+“Your commands have been strictly obeyed,” replied Trude. “The only door
+from the corridor leads to my two rooms, and there is but one entrance
+to them upon the other side, which can be securely fastened.”
+
+Into the simple, quiet room, at the baroness’s request, Trude opened the
+door, saying, “Here we can be alone.”
+
+Marie pointed silently to the second door, and the old woman nodded:
+“That is it,” said she. “I have done every thing as you directed. After
+you left, they sent me the furniture of your little garret-room, which I
+have arranged exactly as it stood there.”
+
+As Marie opened the door and found herself in the small room, so like
+the one where she had made flowers, given lessons, consoled by her only
+friend, Trude, her pride and reserve vanished. Sinking upon her knees,
+as if crushed, she gave way to her long-pent-up grief in one cry of
+anguish, clinging to Trude, and weeping bitterly.
+
+“Here I am, my faithful nurse, returned to you more wretched and
+miserable than when I left: then, I felt that I could scorn the world,
+and now I despise myself. Oh, Trude, they have caused my wretchedness,
+they have made me selfish and unkind. I was contented until now, and
+rejoiced in my misery, and triumphantly thought of the time when I was
+wont to bewail my broken heart and lost soul. Once more with you, and
+surrounded with the souvenirs of my girlhood, I feel a horror of myself,
+and could sink in shame and contrition. I have become as bad as they
+are. Can you forgive the hard-hearted daughter who banished her own
+mother from her house? I felt that I could not endure her presence, and
+feared that an inveterate rancor and hate would overpower me, and that I
+should curse her.”
+
+“She deserves it, my poor child,” whispered Trude, the tears streaming
+down her cheeks. “She has just told you that she never loved you, and in
+this painful scene she thought only of bargaining and making money. God
+has heard her and forgiven you as I do, and I beg and implore Him to
+punish those who have made you so wretched, and that He will have no
+mercy upon them, as they have shown none to you. It breaks my heart to
+see you so changed, and I can hardly believe this cold, haughty lady is
+my Marie. In your tears I recognize you, and I bless God that you can
+weep; your grief proves to me that you are yet the child of my heart.”
+
+“Oh Trude, you know not how I have longed to see you; it was my only
+consolation in these painful years. When I doubted every human being,
+then I thought of you, and was comforted and sustained.”
+
+“And was there no one else to think of, my child?”
+
+“Yes,” she gently murmured, “I thought of him. Tell me all you know
+about him, and hide nothing from me in this hour.”
+
+“I thought you would ask me, and I went to Director Gedicke yesterday,
+to inform myself.”
+
+“What did you hear? Tell me the most important. Does he live? Is he
+restored to health?”
+
+“He lives, but, for one year, he was so wretched that he could
+not teach; now he is better. Herr Gedicke went himself to Spandau,
+immediately after the wedding, and brought him back with him, relating
+as forbearingly and carefully as possible the circumstances of your
+marriage, and of your sacrificing yourself for him alone.”
+
+“How did he receive it? What did he say?”
+
+“Nothing. His eyes were fixed, and his lips uttered not a sound. This
+lasted for weeks, and suddenly he became excited, enraged, and they were
+obliged to bind him to keep him from injuring himself.”
+
+“Tell me no more,” cried Marie, shuddering. “I thought myself stronger,
+nay, heartless, and yet it seems as if a hand of iron were tearing,
+rending my soul!”
+
+“That is well,” said Trude, gently; “you must awaken from this hardened
+indifference; giving way to your grief in tears will soften your heart,
+and it will again be penetrated with the love of God and mankind. I will
+tell you every thing; you ought to know how poor, dear Moritz suffered.
+After he vented his rage he became melancholy, and withdrew to Halle in
+solitude, living in a hay-loft. His favorite books and an old piano
+were his only companions; no one presumed to intrude him, and they even
+conveyed his food secretly to him, shoving it through a door. He talked
+aloud to himself for hours long, and at night sang so touchingly,
+accompanying himself upon the piano, that those who listened wept.”
+
+Marie wept also--scalding tears trickled through her fingers as she lay
+upon the floor.
+
+Trude continued: “Moritz lived in this way one year; his friends knew
+how he was suffering, and they proved in their deeds how much they loved
+and esteemed him. The teachers at the Gymnasium divided his hours of
+instruction among them, that he should not forfeit his place and lose
+his salary. Even the king showed great sympathy for him, sending to
+inquire for him. Herr Gedicke visited him frequently at Halle; and once
+when about to mount the ladder to the hay-loft he met Moritz descending,
+carefully dressed, in a reasonable, gentle mood, and then he returned
+with him to Berlin. There was great rejoicing in the college over his
+return, and they feted him, witnessing so much love for him that it was
+really touching. He has been promoted to professor, and at the express
+command of the king he teaches the young Prince Frederick William in
+Latin and Greek. Oh, he is so much esteemed and--”
+
+“And is married I hope,” murmured Marie. “Is he not happily married,
+Trude?”
+
+“No. Herr Gedicke says he could marry a wealthy girl, for he is a great
+favorite, and is invited into the most distinguished society. He repels
+every one, and has become a woman-hater.”
+
+“He hates them--does that mean that he hates me?”
+
+“Yes, he thoroughly scorns and despises you; so much so that Herr
+Gedicke says you should know of it, and keep out of his way. He has
+sworn to publicly show his contempt for you, and therefore his friends
+wish you to be apprised of it, and not encounter him in society.”
+
+“It is well, I thank you,” said Marie, rising; “I will act accordingly.
+Kiss me once more, my dear mother, and let me repose my weary head upon
+your bosom. Ah, Trude, what a sorrow life is!”
+
+“You will yet learn to love it again, Marie.”
+
+“If I thought that I could sink so low, I would kill myself this very
+hour. I know myself better, and only for revenge do I live. Hush! say
+nothing more. Look at me! I am cursed, and there in those gaudy rooms in
+my purgatory; here is my paradise, and here the wicked demon may dare
+to change into the sad, wretched wife, who mourns the happy days already
+flown, and weeps the inconsolable future. Oft will I come here in the
+night when those sleep who think me so proud and happy, and you alone
+shall behold me as I am. Now I must back to purgatory.--Farewell!”
+
+A half hour later a splendid carriage drove from the house of Herr
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The people upon the street stood in wondering
+admiration of the beautiful Arab horses with the costly silver-mounted
+harness, and sought to catch a glimpse of the occupants of the carriage,
+an insignificant, meagre, blond-haired man, who appeared like a servant
+beside the lovely pale wife, though proud and indifferent, who kept her
+eyes fixed steadily before her.
+
+The chasseur, with his waving plumes, sat upon the box beside the
+rich-liveried coachman.
+
+As the married couple returned from their drive, having left their cards
+at the most distinguished houses in Berlin, the baroness handed the list
+of guests to be invited to the baron to examine. He glanced hastily over
+it, assuring her that every thing should be directed as she desired,
+deferring all to her superior knowledge. Suddenly he seemed confused,
+even frightened. “What is the matter? What were you about to remark?”
+ asked Marie, indifferently.
+
+“I was in error. I have, without doubt, read it wrong. I beg pardon for
+a foolish blunder, but will you tell me this name?”
+
+Marie bent forward to look at the paper which her husband handed her,
+and, pointing with her finger, read “Professor Philip Moritz.”
+
+“Do you intend to invite him?” asked Ebenstreit, quite alarmed.
+
+“Why should I not? He belongs to the circle of friends and
+acquaintances, and it is natural that I should include him. Moreover,
+there is not a little gossip, and it is necessary to silence it. If you
+are not of my opinion, strike out the name.”
+
+“Not at all, dearest. On the contrary, you are perfectly right, and I
+admire you for it.”
+
+“Then give the list to the butler, for it is quite time that the
+invitations were given out.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. THE CURSE.
+
+
+The evening of the soiree had arrived. In quick succession drove the
+carriages up the broad entrance to the mansion of Herr Ebenstreit, The
+curious street public pressed in compact masses near the gate to peep
+in, or at least catch a fugitive glance of the ladies alighting from
+their carriages, who were received by the butler at the foot of the
+carpeted steps. A host of gold-bespangled footmen lined the entrance
+upon each side, which was ornamented with the most exquisite hot-house
+plants, filling the air with perfume.
+
+Two tall, stately footmen, with broad gold shoulder-bands and large
+gilt batons, stood at the door of the anteroom, which was brilliantly
+illuminated with chandeliers and side-lights, reflected in the numerous
+mirrors. The anteroom led into the reception-room by wide folding-doors,
+where the names were given to the usher, who announced them in a
+stentorian voice in the drawing-room. There stood the Baron von
+Ebenstreit to receive the guests, all smiles, and with bustling
+assiduity accompany them to the adjoining drawing-room to present them
+to the baroness.
+
+Among the select company were conspicuous the most distinguished
+names of the aristocracy. Generals and staff-officers, countesses and
+baronesses were crowded together, with the ladies of the financial
+world, near ministers and counsellors in this gorgeous saloon, which was
+the delight and admiration of the envious, and excited the tongues of
+the slanderous. Those acquainted gathered in the window-niches and
+cosy corners, maliciously criticising the motley crowd, and eminently
+consoled with the sure prospect of the ruin of the late banker,
+surrounding himself with such unbecoming splendor and luxury, the bad
+taste of his arrogant, overdressed, and extravagant wife.
+
+“Have you noticed her parure of diamonds?” whispered the Countess Moltke
+to Fran von Morien. “If they are real, then she wears an estate upon her
+shoulders.”
+
+“The family estate of Von Leuthen,” laughingly replied Frau von Morien.
+“You know, I suppose, that the father of General von Leuthen was a
+brick-burner, and he may have succeeded in changing a few bricks into
+diamonds.”
+
+“You are wicked, sweet one,” replied the countess, smiling. “One must
+acknowledge that her toilet is charming. I have never seen its equal.
+The gold lace over the rose-colored satin is superb.”
+
+“Yes, and the mingling of straw feathers, diamonds, flowers, lace, and
+birds is truly ridiculous in her head-dress.”
+
+“It must have been copied exactly from the one which the Queen Marie
+Antoinette wore at the ball at Versailles a fortnight since. The
+baroness was present at this court ball with her greyhound of a husband,
+and created quite a sensation with her costly recherchee toilet, as the
+French ambassador told us yesterday.”
+
+“Certainly not by her manner,” said Frau von Morien. “She is
+insupportably arrogant and self-sufficient. What do you think of this
+pretentious manner of announcing our names as if we were at an auction
+where they sold titles?”
+
+“It is a very good French custom,” remarked the countess. “But it
+does not become a lady of doubtful nobility and uncertain position, to
+introduce foreign customs here. She should leave this to others, and
+modestly accept those already in use by us.”
+
+“One remarks the puffed-up parvenue,” whispered Frau von Morien. “Every
+thing smells of the varnish upon the newly-painted coat-of-arms.”
+
+“Hush, my friend! I there comes the baroness leaning upon the arm of the
+French ambassador. She is indeed imposing in appearance, and one could
+mistake her for a queen.”
+
+“Could any one ever suppose that this queen once made flowers to sell?
+Come, countess, I have just thought of a charming scene to revenge
+myself upon this arrogant personage.”
+
+Giving her arm to the countess, she approached her hostess leaning upon
+the arm of the Marquis de Treves, the French ambassador, as they were
+standing beneath the immense chandelier of rock crystal, which sparkled
+above them like a crown of stars, causing her diamonds to look as if in
+one blaze of different hues.
+
+“Oh, permit us to sun ourselves in your rays, ma toute belle,” said the
+Countess Moltke. “One could well fancy themselves in a fairy palace, so
+enchanting is everything here.”
+
+“And the baroness’s appearance confirms this impression,” remarked the
+gallant Frenchman. “Fancy could not well paint a more lovely fairy in
+one’s happiest dreams.”
+
+“Yes, truly I wander around as if in an enchanted scene. I feel as if
+I must seize myself by the head and be well shaken, to convince myself
+that I am really awake and not dreaming a chapter from Aladdin. I made
+the effort, but felt the wreath of roses in my hair, and--”
+
+“And that convinced you of your wakefulness,” said the baroness, a
+little haughtily. Turning to the ambassador, she added: “Do you observe,
+monsieur le marquis, what a delicate attention this lady shows me in
+wearing a wreath of flowers which I manufactured?”
+
+“Comment! The baroness is truly a fairy! She causes flowers to grow at
+her pleasure, and vies with Nature. It seems impossible. I can scarcely
+believe it.”
+
+“And yet it is true,” said Frau von Morien. “The baroness, indeed,
+fabricated these roses three years since, when she had the kindness to
+work for me. You will acknowledge that I have kept them well?”
+
+“It was no kindness of mine, but a necessity,” said the baroness, “and I
+must confess that I would not have undertaken so troublesome a piece of
+work from pure goodness or pleasure. You will remember that I was very
+poor before my marriage, and as Frau von Morien was one of my customers,
+it is very natural that she possesses my flowers. She gave me many
+orders, and paid me a very small price, for she is very practical and
+prudent, and understands bargaining and cheapening, and when one is
+poor they are obliged to yield to the shameless parsimony of the rich.
+I thank you, my dear benefactress, for the honor you have shown me
+in wearing my flowers, for it has been a pleasant occasion to explain
+ourselves and recognize each other. Have the kindness to recall other
+remembrances of the past.”
+
+“I do not remember possessing any other souvenirs,” replied the
+countess, confused.
+
+“Have you forgotten that I gave French lessons to your niece, the present
+Frau von Hohenthal? She came to me three times weekly, because the
+lessons were a few groschen cheaper at the house.”
+
+At this instant the usher announced in a loud voice, “Professor Philip
+Moritz.”
+
+A gentleman of slight proportions, in an elegant fashionable dress,
+appeared and remained standing in the doorway, his large black eyes
+wandering searchingly through the drawing-room. Herr von Ebenstreit
+approached, extending him his hand, uttering a few unintelligible words,
+which his guest appeared not to notice, but, slightly inclining, asked
+if he would present him to the lady of the house.
+
+“Have the kindness to follow me,” said Ebenstreit, leading Moritz
+through the circle of jesting, slandering ladies and gentlemen, to
+the centre of the room, where Marie was still standing with the French
+ambassador and the two ladies.
+
+“My dear,” said her husband, “I have brought you an old acquaintance,
+Professor Moritz.”
+
+As Ebenstreit would retreat, Moritz commanded him to remain, placing his
+white-gloved hand upon his arm, and holding him fast. “I would ask you
+one question before I speak with the baroness.”
+
+Moritz spoke so loud, and in such a strange, harsh, and repulsive
+manner, that every one turned astonished, asking himself what it meant.
+Conversation was hushed, and the curious pressed toward the peculiar
+group in the centre to the baroness, who regarded her husband perfectly
+composed, and the pale man, with the flashing eyes, the glance of which
+pierced her like daggers.
+
+A breathless silence reigned, broken only by Ebenstreit’s trembling
+voice. “What is it, professor? How can I serve you?”
+
+“Tell me who you are?” replied Moritz, with a gruff laugh.
+
+“I am the Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen!”
+
+“And the scar which you bear upon your face, is it not the mark of a
+whip, with which I lashed a certain Herr Ebenstreit three years since,
+who prevented my eloping with my betrothed? I challenged him to fight a
+duel, but the coward refused me satisfaction, and then I struck him in
+the face, causing the blood to flow. Answer me--are you this gentleman?”
+
+Not a sound interrupted the fearfully long pause which followed. Every
+one turned astonished to Ebenstreit, who, pale as death, was powerless
+to utter a word, but stood staring at his opponent.
+
+“Why do you not answer me?” cried Moritz, stamping his foot. “Are you
+the coward? Was this red scar caused by the whip-lash?”
+
+Another long pause ensued, and a distinctly audible voice was heard,
+saying, “Yes, it is he!”
+
+“Who replied to me?” asked Moritz, turning his angry glance away from
+Ebenstreit.
+
+“I,” said Marie. “I reply for my husband!”
+
+“You? Are you the wife of this man?” thundered Moritz.
+
+“I am,” Marie answered.
+
+“Is this invitation directed to me from you?” he continued, drawing a
+paper from his pocket. “Did you permit yourself to invite me to your
+house?”
+
+“Yes, I did,” she calmly answered.
+
+“And by what right, madame? This is the question I wish answered, and I
+came here for that purpose.”
+
+“I invited you because I desired to see you.”
+
+“Shameless one!” cried Moritz, furious.
+
+“Sir,” cried the ambassador, placing himself before Moritz, defying his
+anger, “you forget that you are speaking to a lady. As her husband is
+silent, I declare myself her knight, and I will not suffer her to be
+injured by word or look.
+
+“How can you hinder me?” cried Moritz, with scorn. “What will you do
+if I dash this paper at her feet, and forbid her to ever write my name
+again?” Making a ball of it, he suited the action to the word, casting a
+defiant look at the marquis.
+
+“I shall order the footmen to thrust you out of the house. Here,
+servants, remove this man; he is an escaped lunatic, undoubtedly.”
+
+Two footmen pressed forward through the circle which crowded around
+Moritz.
+
+“Whoever touches me, death to him!” thundered Moritz, laying his hand
+upon a small sword at his side.
+
+“Let no one dare lay a hand on this gentleman,” cried Marie, with a
+commanding wave of her hand to the lackeys. “I beseech you, marquis, and
+you, honored guests, to quietly await the conclusion of this scene, and
+to permit Herr Moritz to finish speaking.”
+
+“Do you mean to defy me, madame?” muttered Moritz, gnashing his teeth.
+“You perhaps count upon my magnanimity to keep silent, and not disclose
+the secrets of the past to this aristocratic assembly. I stand here as
+its accusing spirit, and condemn you as a shameless perjurer.--I will
+ask you who are here rendering homage to this woman, if you know who she
+is, and of what she has been guilty? As a young girl she was as sweet
+and innocent as an angel, and seemed more like a divine revelation.
+To think of her, inspired and elevated one’s thoughts, and heaven was
+mirrored in her eyes. She was poor, and yet so infinitely rich, that if
+a king had laid all his treasures at her feet, as the gift of his love,
+he would receive more than he gave, for in her heart reposed the wealth
+of the whole human race. Oh! I could weep tears of blood in reflecting
+upon what she was, and what she has become. Smile and mock, ladies and
+gentlemen; my brain is crazed, and I weep for my lost angel.”
+
+Moritz dashed his hands to his face, and stood swaying backward and
+forward, sobbing.
+
+Sighs and regrets were heard in the room. The ladies pressed their
+handkerchiefs to their eyes; others regarded with lively sympathy the
+handsome young man, who deeply interested them, and gazed reproachfully
+at the young baroness, expecting her to be crushed with these reproaches
+and tears, but who, on the contrary, stood with proud composure, her
+face beaming with joy, gazing at Moritz.
+
+“It is past--my last tear is shed, and my last wail has been uttered,”
+ cried Philip, uncovering his face. “My angel has changed into a
+despicable woman. I loved her as the wretched, disconsolate being adores
+the one who reveals paradise to him; and she fooled me into the belief
+that she loved me. We exchanged vows of eternal constancy and affection,
+and promised each other to bear joyfully every ill in life, and never
+separate until death. I should have doubted myself, rather than she who
+stood above me, like a divine revelation. I wished to win her by toil
+and industry, by my intellect, and the fame by which I could render my
+name illustrious. It was, indeed, nothing in the eyes of her grasping
+parents; they repulsed me with scorn and pride, but Marie encouraged
+me to perfect confidence in her affection. Whilst I wandered on foot to
+Silesia, like a poor pilgrim toward happiness, to humble myself before
+the king, to beg and combat for my angel, there came temptation, sin,
+and vulgarity, in the form of this pale, cowed-down man, who stands
+beside my betrothed gasping with rage. The temptation of riches changed
+my angel into a demon, a miserable woman bartered for gold! She betrayed
+her love, yielding it up for filthy lucre, crushing her nobler nature
+in the dust, and driving over it, as did Tullia the dead body of her
+father. She sold herself for riches, before which you all kneel, as if
+worshipping the golden calf! After selling her soul to a man whom she
+despised, even if he were not rich, she has had the boldness to summon
+me, the down-trodden and half-crazed victim, to her gilded palace, as if
+I were a slave to be attached to her triumphal car. I am a free man, and
+have come here only to hurl contempt in her face, to brand her before
+you all as a perjurer and a traitress, whom I never will pardon, but
+will curse with my latest breath! Now I have relieved my heart of its
+burden, I command this woman to deny what I have said, if she can.”
+
+With a dictatorial wave of the hand, he pointed excitedly Marie. A
+deathlike stillness reigned. Even the lights seemed to grow dim, and
+every one was oppressed as if by excessive sultriness.
+
+Again Moritz commanded Marie to acknowledge the truth of his accusations
+before the honored assembly.
+
+She encountered his angry glance with calmness, and a smile was
+perceptible upon her lip. “Yes, said she, I acknowledge that I am a
+perjurer and a traitor. I have sold myself for riches, and yielded my
+peace of soul and my love for mammon. I might justify myself, but I
+refrain from it, and will only say that you have told the truth! One day
+you will cease to curse me, and, perhaps a tear of pity will glisten in
+the eye now flashing with scorn and anger. The poor wife who lies in the
+dust implores for the last blessing of your love!”
+
+“Marie!” he cried, with heart-rending anguish, “oh, Marie!” and rushed
+toward her, kneeling before her, and clinging to her, pressing a kiss
+upon her hand and weeping aloud. Only for a moment did he give way, and
+then sprang up wildly, rushing through the crowd, out of the room.
+
+A fearful silence ensued. No one had the courage to break it. Every one
+hoped that Marie, through a simulated fainting, would end the painful
+scene, and give the guests an opportunity to withdraw. No such
+thoughtfulness for her friends occurred to her.
+
+She turned to the Marquis de Treves, who stood pale and deeply agitated
+behind her, and burst into a loud laugh.
+
+“How pale you are! Have you taken this comedy for truth? Did you think
+this theatrical performance was a reality? You have forgotten what I
+told you a month since in Paris, that I had a native talent for acting.
+You would contest the matter with me, and I bet you that I could
+introduce an impromptu scene in my house, with such artistic skill, that
+you would be quite deceived.”
+
+“Indeed I do recall it; how could I have forgotten it?” replied the
+marquis, with the ready tact of the diplomat.
+
+“Have I won?” asked Marie, smiling.
+
+“You have played your role, baroness, like an artiste of consummate
+talent, and to-morrow I shall have the honor to cancel the debt in your
+favor.”
+
+“Now, then, give me your arm, marquis, and conduct me to the
+dancing-room, and you, worthy guests, follow us,” said. Marie, leading
+the way.
+
+The merry music even was not sufficient to dissipate the awkward
+oppression, and by midnight the guests had taken leave, and Marie stood
+under the chandelier, pale and rigid, opposite her husband. He had
+summoned courage to bewail the terrible scene, weeping and mourning over
+her cruelty and his shame. Marie, with chilling indifference, regarded
+him without one visible trace of pity.
+
+“You realized what you were doing when you imposed the scorn of this
+marriage upon me,” she said. “I have never deceived you with vain hopes!
+You have sown dragons’ teeth, and warriors have sprung up to revenge me
+upon you. Serve yourself of your riches to fight the combatants. See if
+you can bargain for a quiet conscience as easily as you purchased me!
+My soul is free though, and it hovers over you as the spirit of
+revenge.--Beware!”
+
+She slowly turned and quitted the room. Her diamonds sparkled and blazed
+in the myriads of lights. The large mirrors reflected the image of a
+haughty woman, who swept proudly past like a goddess of revenge!
+
+Ebenstreit stood gazing after her. He had a horror of the lonely still
+room, so gorgeous and brilliantly illuminated--a shudder crept over him,
+and he sank, weeping bitterly.
+
+In the little room, the buried happiness of the past, Marie knelt, with
+outstretched arms, imploring heaven for mercy. “I thank Thee, Heavenly
+Father, that I have been permitted to see him again! My sacrifice was
+not in vain--he lives! He is free, and his mind is clear and bright. I
+thank Thee that he still loves me. His anger is but love!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. THE KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS.
+
+
+The joy which Bischofswerder said, reigned in heaven and upon earth over
+the return of the crown prince to the path of virtue, in having forsaken
+Wilhelmine Enke, was of but short duration.
+
+The Invisibles and the pious Rosicrucians soon learned that sagacious
+and cunning woman defied the spirits and abjured the oaths.
+
+Since the night of his communion with the departed, Frederick William
+had never visited Charlottenburg--never seen the house which contained
+all that he held most dear; he had returned Wilhelmine’s letters
+unopened, and had even had the courage to refuse himself to the
+children, who came to see him.
+
+If he had been left to consult his own heart, he would not probably have
+had sufficient resolution to have done this; Bischofswerder and Woellner
+never left him for a moment, as they said the Invisible Fathers had
+commanded them to tarry with the much-loved brother in these first days
+of trial and temptation, and to elevate and gladden him with edifying
+conversations and scientific investigations.
+
+The prayers and exhortations were the duty of Woellner, who, besides
+this, continued his daily discourses upon the administration of
+government, preparing the prince for the important command of the royal
+regiments, which they hoped favorable destiny would soon grant him.
+
+The scientific researches were the part of Bischofswerder, and he
+entered upon his duties with the zeal and pleasure of an inquiring mind,
+itself hopeful and believing.
+
+In the cabinet arranged in the new palace at Potsdam, the prince and his
+dear Bischofswerder worked daily, many hours, to discover the great
+hope of the alchemist--the philosopher’s stone. Not finding it,
+unfortunately, they brewed all sorts of miraculous drinks, which were
+welcome to the prince as the elixir of eternal youth and constant love.
+In the evenings they communed with the spirits of the distinguished
+departed, which, moved at the earnest prayers of Woellner, and the
+fervent exhortation of the crown prince, always had the goodness to
+appear, and witness their satisfaction for their much-loved son, as they
+called him, for continuing brave and faithful, and not falling into the
+unholy snares of the seductress.
+
+The crown prince, however, experienced not the least self-contentment.
+Each day renewed the yearning for the beloved of his youth and for his
+children, for which those of his wife were no compensation--neither the
+silent, awkward Prince Frederick William, nor his crying little brother.
+In his dreams he saw Wilhelmine dissolved in tears, calling upon him in
+most tender accents, and when he awoke, it was to an inconsolable grief.
+He wept with heart-felt sorrow; his oath alone kept him from hastening
+to her; it bound him, and fettered his earnest wish to see her, making
+him sad and melancholy.
+
+The spirits had no pity nor mercy upon him. His two confidants
+encouraged his virtue and piety from morning till night, exalting his
+excited fancy with their marvellous relations and apparitions.
+
+One day as they were on the point of commencing the morning prayers to
+the Invisibles, a royal footman appeared, with the command to betake
+themselves to Sans-Souci, where the king awaited them.
+
+A royal carriage was in attendance to convey them. There was no
+alternative but obedience.
+
+“Perhaps Fate destines us to become martyrs to the holy cause,” said
+Woellner, devoutly folding his hands.
+
+“We may never enjoy the happiness of seeing our dear brothers of the
+confederacy again,” sighed Bischofswerder. “Our spirits will always be
+with you, my prince, and the Invisible Fathers will protect you in all
+your ways.”
+
+The crown prince, deeply moved, separated from his friends with tears
+in his eyes; but as the carriage rolled away he felt relieved as of an
+oppressive burden, and breathed more freely.
+
+At the same time a footman entered, bearing upon a golden salver a
+letter for the prince. Unobserved and free to act, he read it, and as he
+sat musingly thinking over its contents, so tender and affectionate,
+he re-read it, and rising, made a bold resolve, his face beaming with
+happiness, to order his carriage, which he did, and in a few moments
+more drove at full speed away from the palace.
+
+Bischofswerder and Woellner, in the mean time, arrived at Sans-Souci.
+The footman awaiting them conducted them at once through the
+picture-gallery, into the little corridor leading to the king’s cabinet,
+and there left them to announce them to his majesty. Both gentlemen
+heard their names called in a loud voice, and the response of the king:
+“Let them wait in the little corridor until I permit them to enter.”
+
+The footman returned and with subdued voice made known the royal
+command, and departed, carefully closing the door.
+
+There was no seat in the narrow, little corridor, and the air was close
+and oppressive.
+
+They could hear voices in mingled conversation; sometimes it seemed as
+if the king were communicating commands; again, as if he dictated in a
+suppressed voice. The Rosicrucians knew very well it was the hour of the
+cabinet council, and they waited patiently and steadfastly, but as their
+watches revealed the fact that three hours had passed, and every noise
+was hushed, they concluded they were forgotten, and resolved to remind
+the lackey of their presence.
+
+“Indeed, this standing is quite insupportable,” whispered Woellner.
+
+They both slipped to the entrance and tried the bronze knob, but
+although it turned, the door opened not, and was evidently fastened upon
+the outside. They looked alarmed at each other, asking what it could
+mean. “Can it be intentional? Are we imprisoned here? We must be
+resigned, although it is a severe experience.” At last, patience
+exhausted, they resolved to bear it no longer, and tapped gently at the
+door of the king. The loud bark of a dog was their only response, and
+again all was still.
+
+“Evidently there is no one there,” sighed Bischofswerder. “It is the
+hour of dining of the king.”
+
+“I wish it were ours also,” whined Woellner. “I confess I yearn for
+bodily nourishment, and my legs sink under me.”
+
+“I am fearfully hungry,” groaned Bischofswerder; “besides, the air is
+suffocating. I am resolved to go to extremes, and make a noise.”
+
+He rushed like a caged boar from one door to the other, shrieking for
+the lackey to open the door; but as before, a loud bark was the only
+response.
+
+“The Lord has forsaken us,” whimpered Woellner. “The sublime Fathers
+have turned their faces away from us. We will pray for mercy and beg for
+a release!” and he sank upon his knees.
+
+“What will that avail us here, where neither prayers nor devotion are
+heeded? Only energy and determination will aid us at Sans-Souci. Come,
+let us thump and bang until they set us free!” cried Bischofswerder,
+peevishly.
+
+Their hands were lame, and their voices hoarse with their exertions;
+and no longer able to stand, they sank down upon the floor hungry and
+exhausted, almost weeping with rage and despair.
+
+At last, after long hours of misery, they heard a noise in the adjoining
+room. The king had again entered his cabinet. The door opened, and the
+lackey motioned to the two gentlemen to enter. They rose with difficulty
+and staggered into the room, the door being closed behind them.
+
+His majesty was seated in his arm-chair, with his three-cornered hat on,
+leaning his chin upon his hands, crossed upon his staff. He fixed his
+great blue eyes, with a searching glance, upon the two Rosicrucians;
+then turned to his minister, Herzberg, who was seated at the table
+covered with documents.
+
+“These are, then, the two great props of the Rosicrucians?” asked
+Frederick--“the two charlatans whom they have told me make hell hot
+for the crown prince, continually lighting it up with their prayers and
+litanies.”
+
+“Your majesty,” answered Herzberg, smiling, “these gentlemen are Colonel
+Bischofswerder and the councillor of the exchequer, Woellner, whom your
+majesty has commanded to appear before you.”
+
+“You are the two gentlemen who work miracles, and have the effrontery
+to summon the spirit of our ancestor, the great elector, and the Emperor
+Marcus Aurelius?”
+
+“Sire,” stammered Bischofswerder, “we have tried to summon spirits.”
+
+“And I too,” cried the king, “only they will not come; therefore I
+wished to see the enchanters, and would like to purchase the secret.”
+
+“Pardon me, most gracious sire,” said Woellner, humbly, “you must first
+be received in the holy order of the Rosicrucians.”
+
+“Thanks,” cried the king, “I am not ready for the like follies, and
+whilst I live the Invisibles must take heed not to become too visible,
+or they will be taken care of. I will not permit Prussia to retrograde.
+It has cost too much trouble to enlighten the people, bring them to
+reason, and banish hypocrisy. Say to the Rosicrucians that they shall
+leave the crown prince in peace, or I will chase them to the devil, who
+will receive them with open arms! It could do no harm to appeal to the
+prince’s conscience to lead an honorable life, and direct his thoughts
+more to study than to love, but you shall not make a hypocrite of him
+and misuse his natural good-nature. If the Rosicrucians try to force
+the prince and rule him, I will show them that I am master, and will
+no longer suffer their absurdities, but will break up the whole nest
+of them! I have been much, annoyed at the deep despondency of the crown
+prince. You shall not represent to him that baseness and virtue are the
+same, and that he is the latter when he betrays those to whom he has
+sworn fidelity and affection. An honorable man must, above all, he
+cognizant of benefits, and not forsake those who have sacrificed
+their honor and love to him, and have proved their fidelity. Have you
+understood me, gentlemen?”
+
+“It will be my holy duty to follow strictly your majesty’s commands,”
+ said Bischofswerder.
+
+“And I also will strive to promote the will of my king,” asserted
+Woellner.
+
+“It will be necessary to do so, or you two gentlemen may find yourselves
+at Spandau. I would say to you once for all, I will not suffer any
+sects; every one can worship God in his own way. No one shall have the
+arrogant presumption to declare himself one of the elect. We are
+all sinners. The Rosicrucians are not better than the Illuminati or
+Freemasons, and none are more worthy than the tailor and cobbler who
+does his duty. Adieu!”
+
+The king nodded quickly and pointed to the door out of which the two
+brothers were about to disappear, when he called them back.
+
+“If the prince is not at the palace on your return, I advise you not to
+pursue him, but reflect that the Invisibles may have summoned him to
+a communion of spirits; I believe, too, that I kept you waiting; but
+without doubt you were comforted by the Fathers, who bore you away upon
+their wings, and gave you food and drink! Those who are protected by
+the spirits, and can summon them at pleasure, can never want. If you are
+hungry, call up the departed Lucullus, that he may provide for you to
+eat; and if you have no earthly seat, summon Semiramis that she may send
+you her hanging gardens for the quiet repose of the elect! I am rejoiced
+that you have enjoyed such celestial refreshments in the corridor.
+Adieu!”
+
+The king gazed sadly after them. Approaching Herzberg, he said: “I felt,
+as I looked at the two rogues, that it was a pity to grow old. Did you
+think that I would let them off so easily?”
+
+“Sire, I really do not understand you,” replied Herzberg, shrugging his
+shoulders. “I know not, in your most active youthful days, how you could
+have done otherwise.”
+
+“I will tell you that, if I were not an old man, void of decision and
+energy, I would have had these fellows taken to Spandau for life!” said
+the king, striking the table with his staff.
+
+“Your majesty does yourself injustice,” said Herzberg, smiling. “You
+were ever a just monarch in your most ardent youth, and never set aside
+the law. These men were not guilty of any positive crime.”
+
+“They are daily and hourly guilty of enticing away from me the crown
+prince, and making the future ruler of my country an obscurer, a
+necromancer, and at the same time a libertine! I was obliged to overlook
+his youthful preference for Wilhelmine Enke, and wink at this amour,
+for I know that crown prince is human, and his affections are to be
+consulted. If he cannot love the wife which diplomacy chooses for him,
+then he must be permitted the chosen one of his heart to console him
+for the forced marriage. At the same time this person was passable, and
+without the usual fault of such creatures, a desire to rule and mingle
+in politics. She seems to be unambitious and unpretentious. These
+Rosicrucians would banish her by increasing the number of favorites,
+that they may rule him, and make the future King of Prussia a complete
+tool in their hands. They excite his mind, which is not too well
+balanced, and rob him by their witchcraft of the intellect that he has.
+They promise him to find the philosopher’s stone, and make a fool of
+him. Am I not right?”
+
+“I must acknowledge that you are,” sighed Herzberg.
+
+“And admit also that it would be just to send these in, famous fellows
+as criminals to Spandau.”
+
+“Sire, unfortunately, there are crimes and offences which the law does
+not reach, and which cannot be judged.”
+
+“When I was young,” said the king, “I tore up and stamped upon every
+weed that I found in my garden. Shall I now let these two grow and
+infect the air, because the law gives me no right to crush them?
+Formerly I would have torn them leaf from leaf, but now I am old
+and useless, my hand is weak, and lacks the strength to uproot them,
+therefore I suffer them to stand, and all the other abominable things
+which these rogues bring to pass. A cloud is rising, from which a storm
+will one day burst over Prussia; but I cannot dissipate it, for
+the little strength and breath that remains I have need of for the
+government; and, moreover, I have no superfluous time for the future,
+but must live and work only for the present.”
+
+“But the blessing of your exertions will be felt in the future. The
+deeds of a great man are not extinguished with his death, but shine like
+a star, disseminating light beyond his grave!”
+
+“This light is just what the Rosicrucians will take care to extinguish
+like a tallow candle with too long a wick, and it is good fortune that
+the astronomers have awarded me a little glorification in the heavens,
+and accorded me a star, for the Rosicrucians would not let it shine here
+below. I must console myself with this, and recall that when it is dark
+and lowering here, I have a star above in the sky!”
+
+“This star is Frederick’s honor,” cried Herzberg. “It will beam upon
+future generations, and become the guiding light of the sons and nephews
+of your house, and they will learn to be as sagacious and wise as the
+Great Frederick.”
+
+“There you have made a great error, Herzberg,” replied the king,
+quickly. “Future generations are newer taught by the past--grandchildren
+think themselves wiser than their grandparents. The greatest of heroes
+is forgotten, and his deeds buried in the dust of ages. You have given
+me a glorious title of honor, and I know how little I deserve it.”
+
+“A title which will be confirmed in centuries to come, for every history
+will speak of Frederick the Second as Frederick Great.”
+
+“In history it may be, but the people will speak of me as ‘Old
+Fritz’--that will be on the lips of those who love me, and expression of
+endearment; on the lips of those who hate me, one of disaffection. I am,
+indeed, ‘Old Fritz,’ which the Bischofswerders and Woellners also call
+me, and try to make the crown prince believe that I have outlived my
+period, and do not understand or esteem the modern time. In their eyes
+I am a dismantled ship of state, which the storms of life have rendered
+unseaworthy. They would refit the vessel, and give it a new flag,
+sending Old Fritz, the helmsman, to the devil! The day of my death they
+will hoist this flag, with ‘Modern Time’ inscribed upon it in large
+letters. I shall then be united in Elysium with Voltaire, Jordan, Suhm,
+and all my other friends, as we were wont to be at Sans-Souci, and look
+down with a pitying smile upon the Modern Time and Old Folly!--Vale!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. THE ESPOUSALS.
+
+
+Both Bischofswerder and Woellner hastened to avail themselves of the
+commanding “adieu,” and quit the royal presence. Without, the carriage
+was ready to reconvey them to the new palace. They were so exhausted
+that neither of them uttered a word, the last injunctions of the king
+ringing in their ears.
+
+Silently they alighted upon arriving, but as the footman came out to
+meet them they asked, simultaneously, if his royal highness had dined.
+
+“His highness is not here, having departed immediately after the two
+gentlemen, and is not yet returned,” he answered.
+
+“You may serve us something to eat as quickly as possible in the
+little dining-room. Let it be ready in a quarter of an hour,” commanded
+Bischofswerder.
+
+“Now that we are alone, what do you think of this affair?” asked
+Woellner.
+
+“I cannot vouchsafe a reply until I have eaten a pheasant’s wing, and
+drunken my champagne,” replied Bischofswerder.
+
+He kept his word, preserving a solemn silence until a good half of the
+bird had disappeared, and many glasses of iced champagne.
+
+Then Bischofswerder leaned back in his comfortable armchair with
+infinite ease, whilst his friend occupied himself with the most pious
+zeal with the pheasant, rejoicing at this revelation of the Invisibles.
+Bischofswerder let him enjoy it, and ordered the footman to serve the
+dessert and withdraw.
+
+“Now I am prepared to reply to you, my dear friend, that we are alone. I
+believe the king would have sent us to Spandau at once if we had opposed
+his free-thinking opinions.”
+
+“I am convinced of it,” sighed Woellner, eyeing the remains of the bird
+with a melancholy glance. “We shall have much to endure for the holy
+cause which we serve.”
+
+“That is to say, we will have much to suffer if we, in fanatical
+indiscretion, do not submit to circumstances,” said Bischofswerder.
+
+“You cannot traduce the sublime Fathers!” cried Woellner;--“for the
+body’s security, we cannot endanger the salvation of our souls, and,
+like Peter, deny our master.”
+
+“No, my much-loved and noble friend. But we must be wise as serpents,
+and our duty to the holy order is to preserve its useful tools that they
+may not be lost. You will agree with me in this?”
+
+“Indeed, I do admit it,” replied Wollner, pathetically.
+
+“Further, you will acknowledge that we are very useful, and I might say
+indispensable tools of the Sublime Order of the Rosicrucians and the
+Invisible Fathers of the Order of Jesus? It is our task to secure an
+abiding-place to the proscribed and, cursed, to plough and sow the
+field, which will yield good fruit for humanity entire, and particularly
+our order, when the crown prince ascends the throne. We will here erect
+a kingdom of the future, and it is all-important to lay so secure a
+corner-stone in the heart of his highness that nothing can shake or
+dislodge it. Who could perfect this work if we were not here? Who would
+dare to undertake the difficult task if we should fail? Who would
+carry on a secret and continued warfare with this artful and powerful
+seductress if we were conquered?”
+
+“No one would do it,” sighed Woellner, “no one would sacrifice
+themselves like Samson for this Delilah.”
+
+“We will together be the Samson,” replied Bischofswerder, drawing
+a glass of sparkling champagne. “We will be the Samson which the
+Philistines drove out, but this woman shall not practise the arts of
+Delilah upon us in putting our eyes out or cutting off our hair. Against
+two Samsons the most artful and beautiful Delilah is not wary enough;
+and if we cannot conquer her, we must resort to other means.”
+
+“What may they be, dear brother?”
+
+“We must compromise the matter.”
+
+Woellner sprang up, and a flush of anger or from champagne overspread
+his face “Compromise with the sinful creature!” he cried, impetuously.
+“Make peace with the seductress, who leads the prince from the path of
+virtue!”
+
+“Yes, we must be on friendly terms with this woman, who could greatly
+injure us as an enemy, and aid us infinitely as a friend. This is my
+intention, and I am the more convinced that we must accept this middle
+course, as she is protected by the king.”
+
+“Because he knows from his spies that she mingles with the Illuminati
+and the Freemasons, and that she is our opponent,” said Woellner.
+
+“The more the reason, my noble zealot, to win her friendship, who will
+have validity and power until the crown prince reigns, and this old
+godless freethinker of a king is in his gravel Then Prussia will
+commence a new era, and we shall be lords, and guide the machine of
+state. For such lofty aims one ought to be ready to compromise with his
+Satanic majesty even. Then why not with this little she-devil, whose
+power is fading every year with her youth and beauty?”
+
+“It is quite true, we should be mindful of the device of our Invisible
+Fathers. The end sanctifies the means,” sighed Woellner.
+
+“I believe it to be indispensable, and you will grant that I am right.
+Do you not see that the prince has availed himself of our absence to go
+there, and has not yet returned?”
+
+“What!” shrieked Woellner, clasping his hands--“you do not mean that--”
+
+“That Rinaldo has returned to the enchanted garden of Armida.”
+
+“Oh, let us hasten to release him at once, and revue his soul from
+perdition!” cried Woellner, springing up.
+
+“On the contrary, let us await him here without a word of reproach upon
+his return. This will touch his tender heart which we must work upon,
+if we would get him into our power, for to us he must belong. Fill
+our glasses with the sparkling wine, and drink to the contract with
+Wilhelmine Enke.”
+
+Just as merrily they quaffed the champagne in the little cosy
+dining-room at Charlottenburg, where the prince and Wilhelmine were
+rejoicing over a reconciliation, no one being present but the two
+children. Their joyous laugh and innocent jests delighted the father,
+and the beaming eyes, sweet smile, and witty conversation of his
+favorite, filled his heart with pleasure.
+
+Not a word of reproach escaped her, but exultant and joyous she hastened
+with outstretched arms to meet him, kissing away all his attempts to
+implore pardon, and thanking him that he had returned to her.
+
+At first the prince gave himself up to the joy of the reunion with his
+beloved Wilhelmine sad children; but now, as the first outburst had
+passed, the quiet, happy dinner being finished, and they had returned
+to the sitting-room, a tinge of melancholy earnestness overshadowed his
+amiable face.
+
+Wilhelmine threw her arms gently around his neck as she sat beside him
+upon the divan, and looked up to him with a tender questioning glance.
+“Your thoughts are veiled, dearest; will you not confide to me that
+which lies concealed there?”
+
+“Ah, Wilhelmine, it is a mourning veil, and hides the sorrow of
+renunciation.”
+
+“I do not understand you, Frederick,” she smilingly replied. “Who could
+compel you to an abnegation which would cause you grief?”
+
+“Listen to me, Wilhelmine, and understand that I am suffering from
+circumstances--an oath taken in the pressure of the moment. Try to
+comprehend me, my dear child.”
+
+Drawing her closer to him, he faithfully related to her the night of the
+communion of the spirits, and his consequent oath.
+
+“Is that all, my dear?” she replied, smiling, as he finished.
+
+“What do you mean?” he asked, astonished.
+
+“Nothing more than I would know if you have only sworn to renounce
+Wilhelmine Enke!”
+
+“What could I have done more prejudicial to you?” he cried, not a little
+irritated.
+
+“Surely you could not injure or grieve me more, and therefore I am not
+a little surprised that the pious Fathers could so carelessly word their
+oaths. You have sworn to renounce your affection to and separate from
+Wilhelmine Enke; so it follows that the Invisibles only demand that you
+give up my name, not myself, and that is easily changed, and my dear
+prince will not become a perjurer.”
+
+“I do not quite understand you; but I perceive by the arch expression
+of your face that you have conceived a lucky escape for your unhappy
+Frederick William. Explain to me, dearest, your meaning.”
+
+“I must change my name by marrying some one!” she whispered.
+
+“Marry! and I give you to another? I will never consent to that,” he
+cried, alarmed.
+
+“Not to a husband, only a name,” said she. “These Rosicrucians are such
+extraordinarily virtuous and pure beings, loving you so infinitely and
+disinterestedly, that it grieves them that my love for you does not shun
+the light, and throw over itself the mantle of hypocritical virtue!
+We will yield to the zealous purity of the Rosicrucians,” continued
+Wilhelmine, her eyes sparkling, “and wrap this Wilhelmine Enke in a
+mantle of virtue by giving her a husband; and then, when she walks out
+with her children the passers-by will not have to blush with shame,
+and cry, ‘There goes the miss with her children!’ I have conceived and
+planned during this long and painful separation, and I am resolved to
+submit humbly to the pious Fathers, who are so zealously watchful for
+the salvation of your soul and my good fame.”
+
+“That is to say, you are determined to snap your fingers at them!
+Your plan is a good one, but you will find no one to aid you in a sham
+marriage!”
+
+“I have already found one,” whispered Wilhelmine, smiling. “Your valet
+de chambre Rietz is willing to stand with me in a sham marriage.”
+
+“My body-servant!”
+
+“Yes, Frederick William! You will confess that I am not ambitious, and
+only consent to it to secure our happiness from the persecution of
+these virtuous men. Here is the contract,” said she, drawing from her
+dress-pocket a paper, which she unfolded. “He promises to give me his
+name, and regard me as a stranger always, for the sum of four hundred
+thalers annually, with the promise of promotion to confidential
+servant when the noble crown prince shall ascend the throne. [Footnote:
+Historical.--See F. Forster, “Latest Prussian History,” vol. 1., p. 74]
+Will you sign it?”
+
+“I will do any thing that will grant me your affection, in spite of my
+unhappy oath. Give me the paper. I will sign it. When is the wedding?”
+
+“The moment that you, my dear lord and master, have inscribed your
+name,” said Wilhelmine, handing him the pen, and pointing to the paper.
+
+The prince wrote the desired signature, quickly throwing the pen across
+the room, shouting, “Long live Wilhelmine Rietz, who has rescued me from
+perjury and sin! Come to my arms, outstretched to press to my heart the
+most beautiful, most intelligent, and most diplomatic of women!”
+
+Two days later it was related in Berlin that Wilhelmine Enke had married
+the princely valet de chambre Rietz, the crown prince being present at
+the ceremony, which took place at a small village near Potsdam.
+
+Under the head of marriages, the Berlin newspapers announced “Wilhelmine
+Enke to Carl Rietz.”
+
+“Ah, my Rosicrucians,” cried Wilhelmine, laughingly, as she read this
+notice, a mischievous triumph sparkling in her eyes; “ah, my heroes in
+virtue, for once you are outwitted, and I am victorious! I would like
+to witness their surprise. How they will laugh and swear over it! The
+favorite of a prince married to a valet de chambre! Wait until the
+prince becomes a king, then Wilhelmine Rietz will develop into a
+beautiful butterfly, and the wife of the valet de chambre will become
+a countess--nay, a princess. The Great Kophta has promised it, and
+he shall keep his word. I wear his ring, which sparkles and glistens,
+although the jeweller declares the diamond has been exchanged for a
+false stone. No matter, if it only shines like the real one. Every thing
+earthly is deception, falsehood, and glitter. Every one is storming and
+pressing on in savage eagerness toward fortune, honor, and fame! I will
+have my part in it. The storm and pressure of the world rage in my own
+heart. The fire of ambition is lighted in my soul, and the insatiable
+thirst for fortune consumes me. Blaze and burn until the day that
+Frederick William ascends the throne; then the low-born daughter of
+the trumpeter will become the high-born countess. The false stone will
+change to the sparkling diamond and Cagliostro shall then serve me.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. REVENGE FULFILLED.
+
+
+Since the soiree at the house of the rich banker, Ebenstreit, an
+entire winter had passed in pleasures and fetes. The position of Baron
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen had been recognized in aristocratic society,
+thanks to his dinners, soirees, balls, fetes, and particularly to
+his lovely, spirited, and proud wife. Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen had
+reached the acme of his ambition; his house was the resort of the most
+distinguished society; the extravagance and superb arrangements of
+his dinners and fetes were the theme of every tongue. This excessive
+admiration flattered the vain, ambitious parvenu extremely, and it was
+the happiest day of his life when Prince Henry of Prussia, brother of
+Frederick the Great, did him the unspeakable honor to dine with him.
+This gratifying day he owed to his wife, and, as he said, it ought to be
+kept as the greatest triumph of money over prejudice and etiquette--the
+day upon which a royal prince recognized the rich and newly-created
+noble as his equal. Ebenstreit’s entrance into the highest circle of
+aristocracy was due to the management and tone of the world of his wife,
+who understood the elegancies of life, passing as an example and ideal
+of an elegant woman, of which her husband was very proud. He lauded his
+original and crafty idea of devoting his money to such a satisfactory
+purchase as a sensible and ladylike wife, although the union was not a
+happy one, and, in the proper acceptation of the word, no marriage at
+all.
+
+Whilst all were entertained at the fetes, and envied the splendor and
+wealth of Baron von Ebenstreit, there were many sinister remarks as to
+the possibility of sustaining this expenditure upon such a grand scale.
+It was whispered about that the banking-house, conducted under another
+name, had lost in extensive speculations, and that the baron lived upon
+his principal instead of his interest. The business community declared
+that the firm entered into the most daring and senseless undertakings,
+and that it must go to ruin. The old book-keeper, Splittgerber, who had
+for many years conducted the business, had been pensioned by the baron,
+and commenced for himself. His successor had once ventured to warn the
+nobleman, and represent to him the danger which threatened him, for
+which he was immediately dismissed, and the fact communicated to the
+entire house, at a special assemblage of the clerks for the purpose,
+with the warning of a like fate for every subordinate who should presume
+to criticise the acts of the principals, or proffer advice to them.
+Since this no one had ventured to repeat the offence, but every member
+of the house occupied himself in drawing a profit from the general and
+daily increasing confusion, and save something from the wreck which
+would inevitably ensue. The baron, with pretentious unconcern, dazzled
+by his unusual honors, permitted his business affairs to take their
+course with smiling unconcern, and when unsuccessful, to hide the
+mistakes of the banker under the pomp of the baron.
+
+Marie, indulging in the style of a great lady, appeared not to notice
+or trouble herself at all about these things. She entertained most
+luxuriantly, and spent enormous sums upon her toilet, changed the costly
+livery of her numerous retinue of servants every month, as well as the
+furniture of the drawing-rooms; and presented with generous liberality
+her superfluous ornaments, dresses, and furniture to her dear high-born
+friends, who greedily accepted them, and were overflowing in their
+tender protestations and gratitude, whilst they in secret revolted at
+the presumption of the arrogant woman, who permitted herself to send
+them her cast-off things.
+
+They rejoiced to receive them, however, and reappeared in her splendid
+drawing-rooms, enduring the pride and neglect of the baroness, and
+calling her their dear friend, whom they in secret envied and hated.
+
+Did Marie know this, or did she let herself be deceived by these
+friendly protestations? Occasionally, when her friends embraced and
+kissed her, a languid smile flitted over her haughty face; and once as
+she wandered through the suite of rooms, awaiting her guests, she caught
+the reflection of a beautiful woman in the costly Venetian mirrors,
+sparkling with diamonds and wearing a silver-embroidered dress with a
+train. She gazed at this woman with an expression of ineffable scorn,
+and whispered to her: “Suffer yet awhile, you shall soon be released.
+This miserable trash will disappear. Only be firm--I hear already the
+cracking of the house which will soon fall a wreck at your feet!”
+
+Others heard it also. As preparations were being made for a grand
+dinner, with which the Baron and Baroness von Ebenstreit would close the
+season, the former head bookkeeper of the baron appeared at the palace,
+demanding, with anxious mien, to see the principal.
+
+Just at the moment the baron and his wife were in the large
+reception-room, which the decorator was splendidly arranging, under the
+direction of the baroness, with flowers, festoons, columns, and statues.
+Ebenstreit was watching admiringly the tasteful and costly display
+as the footman announced the former book-keeper and present banker,
+Splittgerber.
+
+“He must come at another time,” cried Ebenstreit, impatiently, “I am
+busy now; I--”
+
+“Excuse me, baron,” replied an earnest, gentle voice behind him, “that
+I have followed the lackey and entered unbidden. I come on urgent
+business, and I must indeed speak with you instantly!”
+
+“Be brief then, at least,” cried Ebenstreit, peevishly. “You see that my
+wife is here, and we are very busy arranging for a grand dinner to-day.”
+
+Herr Splittgerber, instead of replying, cast a peculiarly sad, searching
+glance through the beautifully-adorned room, and at the two lackeys, who
+stood on each side of the wide folding-doors.
+
+“Permit that these servants withdraw, and order them to close the
+doors,” said the book-keeper, almost commandingly. Ebenstreit, overruled
+by the solemn earnestness, obeyed against his will.
+
+“Would you like me to leave also, sir?” said Marie, with a calm, haughty
+manner. “You have only to ask it and the baron will, undoubtedly, accord
+your request.”
+
+“On the contrary, I beg you to remain,” quietly replied Splittgerber,
+“for what I have to say concerns you and your husband equally.”
+
+“Now, then, I beg you to say it quickly,” cried Ebenstreit, impatiently;
+“I repeat, that we are very busy with preparing for to-day’s festival.”
+
+“You will not give any fete to-day,” said Splittgerber, solemnly.
+
+Ebenstreit, cringing and frightened, gazed at the old man who looked
+sadly at him.
+
+The baroness laughed aloud, sneeringly. “My dear sir, your tone and
+manner remind me of the wicked spirit at the horrible moment in the
+story when he comes to demand the bartered soul, and the enchanted
+castle falls a wreck!”
+
+“Your comparison is an apt one, baroness,” sighed the old man.--“I came
+to you, baron, because I loved your father. I have served your house
+thirty years, and amassed the little I had to commence business with in
+your service. Moreover, when you so suddenly dismissed me, you not
+only gave me my salary as a pension, but you funded the annuity with
+a considerable sum, which makes me, through your house, independent in
+means.”
+
+“You may thank my wife for that. She demanded, when I dismissed you,
+that I should compensate you with the liberality of a true nobleman.”
+
+“Oh, would that you had not done it, baroness!” cried
+Splittgerber--“would that you had permitted the old faithful pioneer in
+the business to remain by your husband! He might have warded off this
+misfortune and saved you by his experience and advice.”
+
+“For this very reason I demanded your removal. You permitted yourself to
+proffer advice which I felt did not become you,” replied Marie, with a
+strange smile of triumph.
+
+“And, I repeat, would that you had not done it!” sighed the old man.
+“I came to warn you, to conjure you, to save yourselves--to flee while
+there is yet time.”
+
+“Oh, mercy! what has happened?” cried Ebenstreit, terrified.
+
+“The banking-house of Ebenstreit, founded under the name of Ludwig,
+associated with Ehlert of Amsterdam, four months since, to buy and load
+ships for the Calcutta market. Herr Ebenstreit gathered together the
+last wrecks of his fortune remaining from his ruinous speculations, to
+win enormously in this investment. Besides, he indorsed the notes of the
+Amsterdam house for the sum of eighty thousand dollars, which has been
+drawn, so that their notes are protested there. Herr Ebenstreit will
+have to pay this sum!”
+
+“What else?” asked Ebenstreit, almost breathless.
+
+“The house of Ehlert, in Amsterdam, has failed; the principal has fled
+with the coffers; the notes for eighty thousand dollars were protested,
+and you, baron, must pay this sum to-day, or declare yourself a
+bankrupt, and go to prison for debt.”
+
+Instantaneously a suppressed cry and a laugh were heard. Ebenstreit
+sank upon a seat, concealing his pallid face with his hands, while Marie
+stood at his side, her face beaming with joy.
+
+“I am lost, I do not possess the eighth part of that sum! I cannot pay
+it. I must submit, for there are no further means to prevent it.”
+
+“No,” replied Marie, with haughty tranquillity, “you have no further
+means to prevent it. The rich banker Ebenstreit will leave this house,
+no longer his own, to enter the debtor’s prison poor as a beggar--nay,
+worse, a defrauder!”
+
+“Oh, how cruel you are!” groaned Ebenstreit.
+
+“Did you say, baroness, that this house is no longer his?” asked
+Splittgerber, alarmed.
+
+“No,” she triumphantly cried. “It belongs to me, and all that is in
+it--the pictures, statues, silver, diamonds, and pearls. Oh, I am still
+a rich woman!”
+
+“And do you mean to retain this wealth if your husband becomes bankrupt?
+Do you not possess a common interest?” asked Splittgerber.
+
+“No, thank Heaven, the community of interest was given up a year since,”
+ cried Ebenstreit, joyfully. “Baroness von Ebenstreit is the lawful
+possessor of this house and furniture. I was not so indiscreet as you
+supposed. I have at least secured this to my wife, and she will be a
+rich woman even if I fail, and will not let me starve. I shall divide
+about ten per cent with my creditors, but my wife will be rich enough
+for us both.”
+
+“This gives me to understand that you intend to make a fraudulent
+bankruptcy. You have settled every thing upon your wife to save yourself
+from the unhappy consequences of your failure. You will still be a rich
+man if your wife should sell her house, works of art, diamonds, gold and
+silver service, and equipages.”
+
+“Yes, indeed, a very rich man,” said Marie. “In the last few weeks
+I have had my property estimated, and it would at least bring three
+hundred thousand dollars.”
+
+“If the baron only possessed this, he could pay his creditors, and have
+a small amount over, sufficient to live upon economically and genteelly.
+But you would rather enjoy splendor, and are not particular about living
+honorably. You will undoubtedly sell your property, and go to Paris,
+to revel in luxury and pleasure, while your defrauded creditors may,
+through you come to poverty and want.--Baron, I now see that your wife
+did well to bring about my removal. I should have, above all things,
+given you the unwelcome advice to sustain your honor unblemished, and
+dispose of your costly surroundings for the benefit of your creditors,
+that when you die it may be with a clear conscience. You prefer a life
+of luxury and ease, rocking your conscience to sleep until God will
+rouse it to a fearful awaking. But do as you like. I came here to offer
+you assistance, thinking that you would dispose of this property, and
+after paying your creditors have sufficient to live upon. Then I could
+be permitted to prove my fidelity to you. I now see that I was a
+fool. Yet in parting I will still beg of you to avoid the unfavorable
+impression of this dinner. The bill of exchange will be presented at
+four o’clock, and the bearer will not be satisfied with the excuse of
+your non-payment on account of dinner-company. You will be obliged
+to settle at once or be arrested. I have learned this from your chief
+creditor, and I begged him to have forbearance for you. I shall now
+justify him in showing you none, as you do not deserve it!--Farewell!”
+
+The old book-keeper turned with a slight nod, and strode away through
+the drawing-room.
+
+“Have you nothing to say to him? Will you let him go thus?” asked Marie,
+impetuously.
+
+“Nothing at all. What should I say?” he replied, shrugging his
+shoulders.
+
+“Then I will speak with him.” Marie called loudly after Splittgerber,
+saying, “I have a word to speak to you.”
+
+The book-keeper remained standing near the door, and turning with
+downcast face, demanded of Marie what she wished.
+
+“I have something to tell you,” she replied, with her usual tranquil,
+proud demeanor, approaching Splittgerber, who regarded her with severity
+and contempt, which she met with a gentle, friendly expression, a sweet
+smile hovering on her lips.
+
+Marie came close up to the old man, who awaited her with haughty
+defiance, and never advanced one step to meet her--a lady splendidly
+bedecked with diamonds and gold-embroidered satin. She whispered a few
+words in his ear. He started, and, astonished, looked into her face, as
+if questioning what he heard. She nodded, smiling, and bent again to say
+a few words.
+
+Suddenly Splittgerber seemed metamorphosed. His gloomy face brightened
+a little, and his insolent glance was changed to one of deep emotion,
+Bowing profoundly as he held the baroness’s proffered hand to take
+leave, he pressed it most respectfully to his lips.
+
+“You will return in an hour?” Marie asked.
+
+“Yes; I shall seek the gentlemen, and bring them with me,” he graciously
+replied.
+
+“Thanks; I will then await you.”
+
+Splittgerber departed, and Marie returned to Ebenstreit who, amazed,
+muttered some unintelligible words, having listened to her mysterious
+conversation with the old book-keeper.
+
+“Now to you, sir!” said she, her whole tone and manner changing to harsh
+command; “the hour for settling our accounts has arrived--the hour that
+I have awaited, purchasing it by four years of torture, self-contempt,
+and despair. This comedy is at an end. I will buy of you my freedom. Do
+you hear me? I will cast off these galley-chains. I will be free!”
+
+“Oh, Marie!” he cried, retreating in terror, “with what fearful
+detestation you regard me!”
+
+“Do you wonder at it? Have I ever concealed this hate from you, or
+ever given you hope to believe that a reconciliation would be possible
+between us?”
+
+“No, truly you have not, but now you will forgive me, for you know how I
+love you, and have provided for your future. You will remain rich, and I
+shall be poor.”
+
+Marie regarded him with unspeakable contempt. “You are more despicable
+than I thought you were. You do not deserve forbearance or pity, for you
+are a dishonorable bankrupt, who cares not how much others may suffer,
+provided his future is secured. I will not, however, suffer the name
+which I have borne against my will, to be defamed and become a mark for
+scorn. I will compel you to remain an honest man, and be just to
+your creditors. I propose to pay the bills of exchange, which will be
+presented to you to-day, provided you will consent to my conditions.”
+
+“Oh, Marie, you are an angel!” he cried, rushing toward her and kneeling
+at her feet, “I will do all that you wish, and consent to every thing
+you propose.”
+
+“Will you swear it?” she coldly replied.
+
+“I swear that I accept your conditions.”
+
+“Bring the writing-materials from the window-niche, and seat yourself by
+this table.”
+
+Ebenstreit brought them, and seated himself by the Florentine mosaic
+table, near which Marie was standing.
+
+She drew from her pocket a paper, which she unfolded and placed before
+him to sign. “Sign this with your full name, and add, ‘With my own free
+will and consent,’” she commandingly ordered him.
+
+“But you will first make known to me the contents?”
+
+“You have sworn to sign it,” she said, “and unless you accept my
+conditions, you are welcome to be incarcerated for life in the debtor’s
+prison. You have only to choose. If you decide in the negative, I will
+exert myself that your creditors do not free you. I should trust in the
+justice of God having sent you there, and that man in miserable pity
+should not act against His will in freeing you. Now decide; will you
+sign the paper, or go to prison as a dishonorable bankrupt?”
+
+He hastily seized the pen and wrote his name, handing the paper to
+Marie, sighing.
+
+“You have forgotten to add the clause, ‘With my own free will and
+consent,’” she replied, hastily glancing at it, letting the paper drop
+like a wilted leaf, and her eyes flashing with scorn.
+
+Ebenstreit saw it, and as he again handed her the paper, he exclaimed,
+“I read in your eyes the intense hate you bear me.”
+
+“Yes,” she replied, composedly, “not only hate, but scorn. Hush! no
+response. You knew it long before I was forced to stand at the altar
+with you. I warned you not to unite yourself to me, and you had the
+impious audacity to defy me with your riches. The seed of hate which you
+then sowed, you may to-day reap the fruits of. You shall recognize now
+that money is miserable trash, and that when deprived of it you will
+never win sympathy from your so-called friends, but they will turn from
+you with contempt, when you crave their pity or aid.”
+
+“I think that you exaggerate, dearest,” said Ebenstreit, fawningly. “You
+have many devoted friends among the ladies, and I can well say that I
+have found, among the distinguished gentlemen who visit our house, many
+noble, excellent ones who have met me with a warmth of friendship--”
+
+“Because they would borrow money of the rich man,” interrupted Marie.
+
+“Of course my coffers have always been accessible to my dear friends,
+and I prized the honor of proving my friendship by my deeds.”
+
+“You will realize to-day how they prove their gratitude to you for it.
+Go, receive the good friends whom you have invited. It is time that they
+were here, and I perceive the carriages are approaching.”
+
+Marie motioned to the door, with a dictatorial wave of her hand, and
+Ebenstreit betook himself to the reception-room. Just as he crossed the
+threshold, the usher announced “Herr Gedicke! Ebenstreit greeted him
+hastily in passing, and the old man went on to meet the baroness, who
+was hastening toward him.
+
+“You have most graciously invited me to your house to-day, and you will
+excuse me that my earnest wish to see you has brought me earlier than
+any other guest.”
+
+“I begged you to come a quarter of an hour sooner, for I would gladly
+speak with you alone a few moments.”
+
+“I thought so, and hastened up here.”
+
+“Did not my old Trude go to see you some days since?” asked Marie,
+timidly.
+
+“She did, and you can well understand that I was much affected and
+surprised at her visit. I thought that you had forgotten me, baroness,
+and that every souvenir of the past had fled from your memory. I now
+see that your noble, faithful heart can never forget, and therefore has
+never ceased to suffer, which I ought to regret, for your sake, but for
+my own it pleased me to receive your kind greeting.”
+
+Marie pressed her hand to her eyes and sighed audibly. “Pray do not
+speak so gently to me--it enervates me, and I would force myself to
+endure to-day. Only tell me, did Trude communicate to you my wishes, and
+will it be possible for you to fulfil them?”
+
+“Your brave, good friend brought me a thousand dollars, praying me to
+convey this to Herr Moritz in order to defray the expenses of a journey
+to Italy.”
+
+“Have you accomplished it, and in such a manner that he does not suspect
+the source from whence it came? He would not receive it if he had the
+least suspicion of it. I have seen him secretly several times as he
+passed to and fro from the Gymnasium, and he appeared to me to grow
+paler and more languid every day.”
+
+“It is true that since you have come back he has changed. The old
+melancholy seems to have returned.”
+
+“He needs distraction; he must go away and forget me. It has always been
+his earnest wish to travel in Italy. You must tell him that you have
+succeeded in getting the money for him.”
+
+“I bethought myself of Moritz’s publisher, represented to him how
+necessary it was for the health of Professor Moritz to travel, begged
+of him to order a work upon Italy, and particularly the works of art of
+Rome, and propose to Moritz the acceptance of the money for that object,
+as he was quite too proud to receive it as a present.”
+
+“That was an excellent idea,” cried Marie. “Has it been accomplished?”
+
+“Yes, as Herr Maurer made the proposal, and Moritz replied, sighing,
+that he had not the means for such a journey, the publisher immediately
+offered him half of the remuneration in advance; consequently he starts
+to-morrow for Italy, unknowing of the thousand dollars being your
+gift.” [Footnote: This work, which was published after his return, still
+excites the highest interest, and is entitled “Travels of a German in
+Italy during 1786 and 1787.--Letters of Philip Carl Moritz,” 8 vols.,
+Berlin, published by Frederick Maurer.]
+
+“How much I thank you!” she joyfully cried. “Moritz is saved; he
+will now recover, and forget all his grief in studying the objects of
+interest in the Eternal City.”
+
+“Do you really believe that?” asked Herr Gedicke. “Were you not also in
+Italy?”
+
+“I was indeed there two years, but it was very different with me. It is
+difficult to forget you are a slave, when listening all the while to the
+clanking of your chains.”
+
+“My poor child, I read with sorrow the history of the past years in
+your grief-stricken face. It is the first time we have met since your
+marriage.”
+
+“See what these years have made of me!--a miserable wife, whom the world
+esteems, but who recoils from herself. My heart has changed to stone,
+and I feel metamorphosed. The sight of you recalls that fearful hour,
+melting my heart and causing the tears to flow. At that time you blessed
+me, my friend and father. Oh, grant me your blessing again in this hour
+of sorrow! I implore you for it, before an important decision! I long
+for the sympathy of a noble soul!”
+
+“I know not, my child, with what grief this hour may be laden for you;
+but I lay my hand again upon your head, imploring God in His divine
+mercy to sustain you!”
+
+“Countess von Moltke and Frau von Morien!” announced the usher. In
+brilliant toilets the ladies rustled in, hastening toward the baroness,
+who had now regained her wonted composure, and received them in her
+usual stately manner.
+
+“How perfectly charming you look to-night!” cried Countess Moltke. “To
+me you are ever the impersonation of the goddess of wealth and beauty
+strewing everywhere with lavish generosity your gifts, and turning every
+thing to gold with your touch.”
+
+“But whose heart has remained tender and gentle,” added Frau von
+Morien.--“You are indeed a goddess, always enhancing the pleasures of
+others. To-day I wear the beautiful bracelet which you sent me because I
+admired it.”
+
+“And I, ma toute belle,” cried the countess, “have adorned myself with
+this superb gold brocade which you so kindly had sent from Paris for
+me.”
+
+“You have forgotten, countess, that you begged of me to give the order
+for you.”
+
+“Ah, that is true! Then I am your debtor.”
+
+“If you are not too proud to receive it as a present?”
+
+“Oh, most certainly not; on the contrary, I thank you, my dear.--Tell
+me, my dear Morien, is not this woman an angel?”
+
+At this instant the French ambassador, Marquis Treves, appeared among
+the numerous guests, whom the baroness stepped quickly forward to
+welcome, withdrawing with him into the window-niche.
+
+“Welcome, marquis,” she said, quickly, in a low voice, “Have you brought
+me the promised papers?”
+
+Drawing a sealed packet from his coat-pocket, he handed it to the
+baroness with a low bow, saying: “I would draw your attention to the
+fact once more, dear madam, that I have abided by the price named by
+yourself, in making this sale, although I am still of the opinion that
+it is below its value.”
+
+“The sum is sufficient for my wants, and I rated its value according as
+it is taxed.”
+
+“There are a hundred thousand dollars in bills of exchange, payable at
+the French embassy at any moment,” said the marquis.
+
+“I thank you, sir, for this proof of friendly attention; and as it
+may be the last time we meet, I would assure you that I shall always
+remember your many and thoughtful kindnesses.”
+
+“You speak, baroness, as if you would forsake the circle of which you
+are the brightest ornament.”
+
+“No, the friends will forsake me,” she replied, with a peculiar smile.
+“Ere an hour shall pass not one of all these numerous guests will remain
+here.--Ah, there comes the decision! See there, marquis!”
+
+The usher announced “Banker Splittgerber.” The old man entered followed
+by two men of not very presentable appearance, and whose toilet was
+but little in keeping with the brilliantly-decorated room and the
+aristocratic guests.
+
+Never heeding the sneers nor contemptuous smiles, the faithful
+book-keeper wound his way, through the crowd of elegantly dressed ladies
+and gentlemen, accompanied by the two men, up to Ebenstreit, who, with
+instinctive politeness, had placed himself near Marie.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said Splittgerber, in a loud voice, “this is Baron
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen, principal of the banking-house Ludwig.”
+
+The two gentlemen approached, one of them saying, “They sent us here
+from your office.”
+
+“This is not the place for business,” replied Ebenstreit. “Follow me!”
+
+“No, gentlemen, remain here,” cried Marie. “Our guests present are such
+intimate, devoted friends that we have nothing to conceal from them;
+but on the contrary, I am convinced they will only be too happy of the
+occasion to prove their friendship, of which they have so often assured
+us.--These gentlemen demand the payment of a bill of exchange for eighty
+thousand dollars. Take my portfolio, Ebenstreit; there is a pencil in
+it. Go around and make a collection; undoubtedly the entire sum will be
+soon noted down.”
+
+Ebenstreit approached the Baron von Frankenstein, saying: “Pardon me
+if I recall to your memory the sum of one thousand louis d’ors, due for
+four black horses three months since.”
+
+“My dear sir,” cried the baron, “this is a strange manner to collect
+one’s debts. We were invited to a feast, and a pistol is pointed at us,
+demanding our debts to be cancelled!”
+
+“How strange! How ridiculous!” heard one here and there among the
+guests, as they, with one accord, pressed toward the door to make their
+exit, which they found fastened.
+
+“Remain,” cried Marie, with stately dignity. “I wish you honored guests
+to be witness of this scene in the hour of justification, as you were
+also present at the one when one of the noblest and best of men cursed
+me.--Banker Splittgerber, take these bills of exchange for one hundred
+thousand dollars. Pay these gentlemen, and devote the remainder to the
+other debts as far as it will go.”
+
+As the three men withdrew by a side-drier, Marie exclaimed: “I will now
+explain to you that Baron von Leuthen is ruined--poor as a beggar when
+he will not work.”
+
+“Marie,” cried Ebenstreit, terrified, rushing toward her, and seizing
+her by the arm. “Marie--”
+
+She threw off his hand from her in anger. “Do not touch me, sir, and do
+not presume either to address me with any endearments. You have yourself
+said that our marriage was not a veritable one, but was like the union
+of associates in business, and now I would inform you it is dissolved:
+the one is a bankrupt; the other a woman whom you cursed, and who
+reclaims of you four years of shame and degradation. You wonder at my
+speaking thus, but you do not know this man, my friends.”
+
+As she spoke, a door opened at the farther end of the room, and Trude
+entered in her simple dress, followed by Philip Moritz. Unobserved
+the two glided behind the charming grotto which had been arranged with
+flowers and wreaths in one of the niches. Every eye was turned upon the
+pale, stately beauty, erect in the centre of the room.
+
+“Stay here, for no one can see us,” whispered Trude. “I could not bear
+to have you leave Berlin without hearing the justification of my dear
+Marie, and may God pardon me for letting you come here unbeknown to her!
+Listen, and pray to Him to forgive you the great injustice that you have
+done her. Be quiet, that no one may see you, and Marie be angry with her
+old Trude.”
+
+“Yes,” continued Marie, with chilling contempt, “you should know this
+man before whom you have all bowed, pressed the hand, and called your
+friend, because he was rich, and, thanks to his wealth alone, became a
+titled man--a baron, buying the hand of a poor but noble maiden, whom he
+knew despised him, and passionately loved another, having sworn eternal
+constancy to him. I am that young girl. I begged, nay implored him,
+not to pursue me, but he was void of pity, mocked my tears, and said
+he could buy my love, and my heart would at last be touched by the
+influence of his wealth. I should have preferred to die, but Fate
+ordered that the one I loved, by my fault, should by imprisonment atone
+our brief dream of bliss. I could only save him by accepting this man;
+these were the conditions. I became his wife before the world, and took
+my oath in his presence to revenge myself, and after four years I
+shall accomplish it. I have spent his money, and of the rich man made a
+beggar. God be praised, I can now revenge myself in freeing myself!”
+
+“Free yourself? It is not true! You are my wife still,” replied
+Ebenstreit, alarmed.
+
+A radiant smile flitted over Marie’s face as she defied Ebenstreit
+with the law of the Great Frederick, who had decided that every unhappy
+couple without offspring could separate by their own free will and
+consent, having signed a paper to that effect.
+
+“Is that the paper which you have made me sign?” cried Ebenstreit,
+alarmed.
+
+“Yes, drawn up by my notary, and both of our names are signed to it.”
+
+“It is a fraud!” cried Ebenstreit. “I will protest against it.”
+
+“Do it, and you will find it a vain effort. I promised to pay your debt
+if you would put your name to the document then placed before you, which
+you did. Ask the Marquis Treves how I paid your debts: he will answer
+you that he has given me the money.”
+
+“I had the honor to pay to the baroness one hundred thousand dollars, as
+she rightly informs you.”
+
+“Yes,” continued Marie, “the marquis is the present possessor of this
+house and all that it contains--furniture, statues, and pictures; also
+the equipages and silver. To my mother I sent my diamonds, costly laces,
+and dresses, to indemnify her for the annuity which Herr von Ebenstreit
+settled upon her as purchase-money which he cannot pay, now that he is
+ruined.”
+
+“Marquis,” cried Ebenstreit, pale with anger, “have you really bought
+this house and its contents?”
+
+“I have done so, and the one hundred thousand dollars the baroness has
+paid over to Herr Splittgerber.”
+
+“Oh! I am ruined,” groaned Ebenstreit--“I am lost!” and, covering his
+face with his hands, he rushed from the room.
+
+Marie gazed at him with a sad expression, saying: “Ladies and gentlemen,
+you now know to whom this house belongs. You can no longer say that I am
+the daughter whom the late General von Leuthen sold to a rich man. I am
+free!”
+
+At this moment a side-door opened, and Frau von Leuthen was heard saying
+to old Trude: “Let me in! it is in vain to hold me back. I will have
+an explanation from my daughter, and learn what all this means.” As
+she pushed herself into the room, she exclaimed: “Ah, it is a fete day!
+There is the baroness in all her glory and splendor. She is not crazed,
+as I feared this morning, when she sent me all her ornaments and fine
+dresses and laces, with a note, sealed with black, inscribed upon it,
+‘Will Of the Baroness Ebenstreit von Leuthen.’ I opened it, and read: ‘I
+give to my mother my precious ornaments, laces, and dresses, to secure
+to her the pension which she has lost.--Marie. ‘I came here to learn if
+my daughter were dead, and what the conclusion of this lost pension may
+be, and I find--”
+
+“You find the confirmation of all that I wrote to you,” replied Marie,
+coldly. “Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen is ruined. I have secured to you,
+in the sum which my jewels and laces will bring you, the annuity, so
+that you have not lost the money promised you for your daughter, and the
+marriage you have arranged has at least borne good fruit to you.”
+
+“You are a cruel, ungrateful child,” cried the mother. “I have long
+known it, and rejected you from my heart, and from all shame I will
+yet protect the name you bear. I have just seen a sign in the
+Friedrich-strasse, ‘Flower manufactory of Marie von Leuthen.’ What does
+this mean? Terrified, I stared speechless at these fearful words, and at
+the busy workmen preparing the house.”
+
+“I will explain it to you,” cried Marie, with radiant mien. “I have
+again become the flower-maker, and beg your favor, Countess von Moltke,
+Frau von Morien, and all the other ladies. I am free, and no longer the
+wife of a hated husband--no longer the distinguished and wealthy woman.
+All delusion and mockery have vanished. The costly dress and jewels that
+I now wear I will cast of from me as the last souvenir of the past.”
+
+Unclasping the diamond necklace and bracelets, she handed them to her
+mother, saying: “Take them, and also this dress, the last finery I
+possess.” She unloosed the band, and the long white satin train fell
+at her feet. Emerging from it as from a silvery cloud, she stood before
+them in a simple white dress, as she was clothed in her girlhood. “Take
+them all,” she joyfully cried. “Take them, mother, it is all past. I
+am now myself again. Farewell, witnesses of this scene! I now quit your
+circle; and you, my mother, I forgive you; may the thoughts of your
+unhappy child never trouble you, waking or sleeping; may you forget that
+your daughter lives, and is wretched. Revenge has not softened my grief,
+or removed your curse from my head!”
+
+“I will lift it off your brow, Marie!” cried Moritz, suddenly appearing
+from the window-niche, with beaming face and outstretched arms,
+approaching Marie, whom surprised and alarmed, retreated. “Oh, noble,
+courageous woman, forgive me that I have been an unbidden witness to
+this scene, though by this means I now clearly recognize your strength
+of mind, and elevation of soul, and the wrong that I have committed in
+doubting and cursing you during these four years of gloom and despair. I
+bow before you, Marie, and implore you, upon my knees, to forgive me
+all the cruel, harsh words that I have uttered--that I have dared as
+a wretched fool to doubt you in this long night of despair. The day is
+dawning again upon us; a new sun will yet cheer us with its rays. Do not
+turn from me, but look at me, and grant me forgiveness.--My dear friend
+and father, speak for me, for you know what I have suffered. Beg of her
+to forgive me.”
+
+“Marie,” said the venerable old man, approaching her, gently putting
+his arm around her, “God has willed that you, my poor, long-tried child,
+should pass through a season of extreme sorrow. You are now released,
+and all that belonged to you has vanished!”
+
+As he spoke, he signed to the guests to withdraw. Many had already
+escaped the painful scene by the side-door. Marie was now alone in the
+magnificent apartment, with Herr Gedicke and Moritz. She still stood,
+with concealed face, in the centre of the room.
+
+“Oh, Marie,” implored Moritz, “hide not your dear face from me! Read in
+mine the deep grief of the past and the bliss of the future. I thank
+God that this unnatural union is severed, and that you are free. Be
+courageous to the end!” Moritz impetuously drew her hand away, revealing
+her tearful countenance, as her head sank upon his shoulder. “Can
+you not forgive me, Marie?” he cried, with deep emotion. “We have both
+wandered through a waste of grief, and now approach life radiant with
+happiness. Oh, speak to me, Marie; can you not love me and forgive me?”
+
+She gazed into his eyes, and in their depths read that which gradually
+softened her hardened features, and caused a smile to play upon her lip.
+“I love you dearly, devotedly; let this be our parting word. Go forth
+into the world, Moritz; my affection will follow you whithersoever you
+wander, and my soul will be true to you through all eternity, though we
+are forever separated. The poor wife, with her dismal retrospections,
+must not cast a shadow upon your future. Go, my beloved--Italy awaits
+you, and art will console you!”
+
+“Follow me, dear Marie; only by your side am I happy. You are free and
+independent,” cried Moritz.
+
+“Oh, father,” cried Marie, leaning upon the venerable old man, “explain
+to him that I am still the wife of that hated man!”
+
+“She is right, Philip; do not urge her further. She must first be
+legally separated, and this weary heart must have time to recover its
+wonted calm. Go to Italy, and confide your future and happiness to my
+care. Marie has lost a mother, but she shall find a father in me. I will
+watch over her until your return.”
+
+Just then the door opened, and Trude entered. “Every thing is ready; all
+the things which used to stand in the little garret-room are packed and
+sent to the manufactory. Shall we go, too, dear child?”
+
+“Yes,” she cried, embracing the faithful old woman. “Farewell,
+Philip--Italy calls you!”
+
+“I will go, but when I return will you not be my wife?”
+
+Marie gazed at Moritz, radiant with happiness, saying: “The answer is
+engraven upon my heart. Return, and then I will joyfully respond to your
+love before God and man!”
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg’s Old Fritz and the New Era, by Louise Muhlbach
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+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Old Fritz and the New Era, by L. Muhlbach
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
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+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Fritz and the New Era, by Louise Muhlbach
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Old Fritz and the New Era
+
+Author: Louise Muhlbach
+
+Translator: Peter Langley
+
+Release Date: January 28, 2009 [EBook #3460]
+Last Updated: October 14, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team,
+and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By L. Muhlbach
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      Translated from the German by Peter Langley
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2H_FORE"> FOREWORD </a><br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA.</b></big> </a><br /><br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>BOOK I.</b> </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<b>OLD FRITZ.</b>
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        LONELY KING. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WILHELMINE
+        ENKE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;FREDERICK
+        WILLIAM. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        DRIVE TO BERLIN. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        OATH OF FIDELITY. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        PARADE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        MIRACULOUS ELIXIR. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE GOLDEN RAIN. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009">
+        CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING. <br /><br />
+        &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0013">
+        <b>BOOK II.</b></a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<b>ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES</b>
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;GOETHE IN
+        BERLIN. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER
+        XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE JESUIT GENERAL <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A PENSIONED GENERAL.
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        KING&rsquo;S LETTER. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;HATE
+        AND LOVE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;CHARLES
+        AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;GOETHE&rsquo;S VISITS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018">
+        CHAPTER XVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;FAREWELL TO BERLIN. <br /><br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> <b>BOOK III.</b> </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<b>STORM
+        AND PRESSURE</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020">
+        CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE KING AND THE LOVER. <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;IN WEIMAR. <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE READING.
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WITCHCRAFT
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        PURSE-PROUD MAN. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        ELOPEMENT. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;UNDER
+        THE STARRY HEAVENS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE SACRIFICE. <br /><br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> <b>BOOK IV.</b> </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<b>THE
+        VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES.</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028">
+        CHAPTER XXVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;OLD FRITZ. <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;CAGLIOSTRO&rsquo;S RETURN.
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        TRIUMVIRATE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;FUTURE
+        PLANS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MIRACLES
+        AND SPIRITS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        RETURN HOME. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEHIND
+        THE MASK. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        CURSE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER
+        XXXVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE ESPOUSALS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0038">
+        CHAPTER XXXVIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;REVENGE FULFILLED. <br /><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_FORE" id="link2H_FORE">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      FOREWORD
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      I would merely say a few words in justification of the Historical Romance,
+      in its relation to history. Any one, with no preceding profound study of
+      history, who takes a few well-known historical facts as a foundation for
+      an airy castle of romantic invention and fantastic adventure, may easily
+      write an Historical Romance; for him history is only the nude manikin
+      which he clothes and adorns according to his own taste, and to which he
+      gives the place and position most agreeable to himself. But only the
+      writer who is in earnest with respect to historical truth, who is not
+      impelled by levity or conceited presumption, is justified in attempting
+      this species of composition; thoroughly impressed with the greatness of
+      his undertaking, he will with modest humility constantly remember that he
+      has proposed to himself a great and sublime work which, however, it will
+      be difficult if not impossible for him wholly and completely to
+      accomplish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But what is this great, this sublime end, which the Historical Romance
+      writer proposes to attain? It is this: to illustrate history, to
+      popularize it; to bring forth from the silent studio of the scholar and to
+      expose in the public market of life, for the common good, the great men
+      and great deeds embalmed in history, and of which only the studious have
+      hitherto enjoyed the monopoly. Thus, at least, have I considered the
+      vocation I have chosen, not vainly or inconsiderately, but with a profound
+      conviction of the greatness of my undertaking, and with a depressing
+      consciousness that my power and acquirements may prove inadequate for the
+      attainment of my proposed end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But I am also fully conscious of what was and still is my greatest desire:
+      to give an agreeable and popular form to our national history, which may
+      attract the attention and affections of our people, which may open their
+      understandings to the tendencies of political movements, and connect the
+      facts of history with the events of actual life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The severe historian has to do but with accomplished facts; he can only
+      record and describe, with the strictest regard to truth, that which has
+      outwardly occurred. He describes the battles of peoples, the struggles of
+      nations, the great deeds of heroes, the actions of princes&mdash;in short,
+      he gives the accomplished facts. To investigate and explain the secret
+      motives, the hidden causes of these facts, to present them in connection
+      with all that impelled to them, this is the task of Historical Romance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The historian presents to you the outward face, the external form of
+      history; Historical Romance would show you the heart of history, and thus
+      bring near to your heart what, else, would stand so far off. To enable him
+      to do this, the writer of an Historical Romance must, indeed, make severe
+      and various studies. He must devote his whole mind and soul to the epoch
+      he would illustrate, he must live in it and feel with it. He must so
+      familiarize himself with all the details, as in a manner to become a child
+      of that epoch; for he can present a really living image of only that which
+      is living in himself. That this requires a deep and earnest study of
+      history is self-evident. Historical Romance demands the study of the
+      historian, together with the creative imagination of the poet. For the
+      free embodiment of the poet can blossom only from out the studio of the
+      historian, as the flower from the seed; as, by a reciprocal organic
+      action, the hyacinth is derived from the onion, and the rose from its
+      seed-capsule, so are history and poetry combined in the Historical
+      Romance, giving and receiving life to and from each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Historical Romance has its great task and its great justification&mdash;a
+      truth disputed by only those who either have not understood or will not
+      understand its nature.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Historical Romance has, if I may be allowed so to speak, four several
+      objects for which to strive:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Its first object is, to throw light upon the dark places of history,
+      necessarily left unclear by the historian. Poetry has the right and duty
+      of setting facts in a clear light, and of illuminating the darkness by its
+      sunny beams. The poetry of the romance writer seeks to deduce historical
+      characteristics from historical facts, and to draw from the spirit of
+      history an elucidation of historical characters, so that the writer may be
+      able to detect their inmost thoughts and feelings, and in just and sharp
+      traits to communicate them to others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The second task of Historical Romance is, to group historical characters
+      according to their internal natures, and thus to elucidate and illustrate
+      history. This illustration then leads to the third task, which is the
+      discovery and exposition of the motives which impel individual historical
+      personages to the performance of great historical acts, and from
+      outwardly, apparently insignificant events in their lives to deduce their
+      inmost thoughts and natures, and represent them clearly to others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thence follows the fourth task: the illustration of historical facts by a
+      romance constructed in the spirit of the history. This fourth and
+      principal task is the presentation of history in a dramatic form and with
+      animated descriptions; upon the foundation of history to erect the temple
+      of poesy, which must nevertheless be pervaded and illuminated by historic
+      truth. From this it naturally follows that it is of very little
+      consequence whether the personages of the Historical Romance actually
+      spoke the words or performed the acts attributed to them; it is only
+      necessary that those words and deeds should be in accordance with the
+      spirit and character of such historical personages, and that the writer
+      should not attribute to them what they could not have spoken or done. In
+      the Historical Romance, when circumstances or events are presented in
+      accordance with historical tradition, when the characters are naturally
+      described, they bear with them their own justification, and Historical
+      Romance has need of no further defence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Historical Romance should be nothing but an illustration of history. If
+      the drawing, grouping, coloring, and style of such an illustration of any
+      given historical epoch are admitted to be true, then the illustration
+      rises to the elevation of a work of art, worthy of a place beside the
+      historical picture, and is equally useful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Raphael&rsquo;s &ldquo;School of Athens,&rdquo; his &ldquo;Institution of the Communion,&rdquo; and many
+      others of his pictures, are such illustrations of history&mdash;as also
+      the great paintings of Rubens from the life of Anna dei Medici; and then
+      the historical pictures of Horace Vernet, of Delaroche, of Lessing, and of
+      Kaulbach&mdash;all these are illustrations of history. What those artists
+      present and illustrate with paint and pencil, the Historical Romancer
+      represents in words with his pen; and when he does this successfully, he
+      will live in the memory of his reader as imperishably as the great
+      historical pictures of the painters in the memory of their beholders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It would occur to no one to accuse a successful historical picture of
+      falsehood, because the books of history do not show that the occurrence
+      took place precisely in the manner represented, that the historical
+      personages really so laughed or wept, or so deported themselves. If the
+      situation and grouping of historical events are allowed to be in
+      accordance with the general tenor of history, then the picture may be
+      pronounced historically true, and is just as good a piece of history as
+      the record of the special historian. It is the same with the pictures of
+      the romancer as with those of the painter; and this is my answer to those
+      who, on every occasion, are continually asking: &ldquo;Was it really thus? Did
+      it really occur in that manner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Show me from history that it could not be so; that it is not in accordance
+      with the character of the persons represented&mdash;then I will confess
+      that I am wrong, and you are right; then have I not presented an
+      illustration, but only a caricature of history, faulty as a work of art,
+      and wanting the dignity of truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I am conscious of having earnestly and devotedly striven for the truth,
+      and of having diligently sought it in all attainable historical works. The
+      author of an Historical Romance has before him a difficult task: while he
+      must falsify nothing in history, he must poetize it in a manner that both
+      historical and poetic truth shall be the result. To those, however, who so
+      very severely judge Historical Romance, and would deny its historical
+      worth, I now, in conclusion, answer with the following significant
+      quotation from Schiller:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall always prove a bad resource for any future historian who may have
+      the misfortune to recur to me. History is generally only a magazine for my
+      fantasy, and objects must be contented with whatever they may become under
+      my hand.&rdquo;&mdash;(See Weisnar&rsquo;s &ldquo;Musenhof,&rdquo; p. 93.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This declaration of Schiller satisfies me with respect to the nature of my
+      own creations. I desire not to be a resource for historical writers, but I
+      shall always earnestly and zealously seek to draw from the wells of
+      history, that nothing false or unreal may find a place in the &ldquo;magazine of
+      my fantasy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      CLARA MUNDT, (L. MUEHLBACH. )
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      BERLIN, September 22, 1866.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA.
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK I. OLD FRITZ.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. THE LONELY KING.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, so let it be!&rdquo; said the king, sighing, as he rose from his
+      arm-chair; &ldquo;I must go forth to the strife, and these old limbs must again
+      submit to the fatigue of war. But what matters it? The life of princes is
+      passed in the fulfilment of duties and responsibilities, and rarely is it
+      gladdened with the sunny rays of joy and peace! Let us submit!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, let us submit!&rdquo; repeated the king, thoughtfully, slowly pacing his
+      cabinet back and forth, his hands folded upon his staff behind him, and
+      his favorite dog, Alkmene, sleepily following him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a melancholy picture to see this bowed-down old man; his thin, pale
+      face shaded by a worn-out, three-cornered hat, his dirty uniform strewn
+      with snuff; and his meagre legs encased in high-topped, unpolished boots;
+      his only companion a greyhound, old and joyless as his master. Neither the
+      bust of Voltaire, with its beaming, intelligent face, nor those of his
+      friends, Lord-Marshal Keith and the Marquis d&rsquo;Argens, could win an
+      affectionate glance from the lonely old king. He whom Europe distinguished
+      as the Great Frederick, whom his subjects called their &ldquo;father and
+      benefactor,&rdquo; whose name was worthy to shine among the brightest stars of
+      heaven, his pale, thin lips just murmured, &ldquo;Resignation!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With downcast eyes he paced his cabinet, murmuring, &ldquo;Let us submit!&rdquo; He
+      would not look up to those who were gazing down upon him from the walls&mdash;to
+      those who were no more. The remembrance of them unnerved him, and filled
+      his heart with grief. The experiences of life, and the ingratitude of men,
+      had left many a scar upon this royal heart, but had never hardened it; it
+      was still overflowing with tender sympathy and cherished memories. To
+      Lord-Marshal Keith, Marquis d&rsquo;Argens, and Voltaire, Frederick owed the
+      happiest years of his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      D&rsquo;Argens, who passionately loved Frederick, had been dead five years;
+      Lord-Marshal Keith one month; and Voltaire was dying! This intelligence
+      the king had received that very morning, from his Paris correspondent,
+      Grimm. It was this that filled his heart with mourning. The face, that
+      smiled so full of intelligence, was perhaps distorted with agony, and
+      those beaming eyes were now closing in death!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Voltaire was dying!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick&rsquo;s thoughts were with the dead and dying&mdash;with the past! He
+      recalled, when crown prince at Rheinsberg, how much he had admired, loved,
+      and distinguished Voltaire; how he rejoiced, and how honored he felt,
+      when, as a young king, Voltaire yielded to his request to live with him at
+      Berlin. This intimacy, it is true, did not long continue; the king was
+      forced to recognize, with bitter regret, that the MAN Voltaire was not
+      worthy the love which he bestowed upon the POET. He renounced the MAN, but
+      the poet was still his admiration; and all the perfidy, slander and malice
+      of Voltaire, had never changed Frederick. The remembrance of it had long
+      since faded from his noble heart&mdash;only the memory of the poet, of the
+      author of so many hours of the purest enjoyment, remained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Voltaire was dying!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This great and powerful spirit, who so long a time, in the natural body,
+      had instructed, inspired, and refreshed mankind, would leave that body to
+      rise&mdash;whither?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Immortality, what art thou?&rdquo; asked the king, aloud, and for the first
+      time raising his eyes with an inquiring glance to the busts of his
+      friends. &ldquo;I have sought for thee, I have toiled for thee, my whole life
+      long! Neither the researches of the learned, nor the subtleties of
+      philosophy reveal thee to me. Is there any other immortality than fame?
+      Any other eternal life than that which the memory of succeeding
+      generations grants to the dead?&rdquo; In this tone of thought Frederick
+      recited, audibly, the conclusion of a poem, which he had addressed to
+      D&rsquo;Alembert:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have consecrated my days to philosophy, I admit all the innocent
+      pleasures of life; And knowing that soon my course will finish, I enjoy
+      the present with fear of the future. What is there to fear after death? If
+      the body and the mind suffer the same fate, I shall return and mingle with
+      nature; If a remnant of my intellectual fire escapes death, I will flee to
+      the arms of my God.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: Posthumous works, vol. vii., p.88.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And may this soon be granted me!&rdquo; continued the king; &ldquo;then I shall be
+      reunited to those loved ones&mdash;gone before. I must be content to tarry
+      awhile in this earthly vale of sorrow, and finish the task assigned me by
+      the Great Teacher; therefore, let us submit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sighed; pacing to and fro, his steps were arrested at a side-table,
+      where lay a long black velvet box; it contained the flute that his beloved
+      teacher, Quantz, had made for him. Frederick had always kept it in his
+      cabinet as a memento of his lost friend; as this room he had devoted to a
+      temple of Memory&mdash;of the past!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Another of the joys, another of the stars of my life vanished!&rdquo; murmured
+      the king. &ldquo;My charming concerts are at an end! Quantz, Brenda, and my
+      glorious Graun are no more. While they are listening to the heavenly
+      choir, I must be content with the miserable, idle chatter of men; the
+      thunder of battle deafening my ears, to which that mad, ambitious Emperor
+      of Austria hopes to force me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the king thus soliloquized, he involuntarily drew from the box the
+      beautiful ebony flute, exquisitely ornamented with silver. A smile played
+      around his delicate mouth. He raised the flute to his lips, and a
+      melancholy strain floated through the stillness&mdash;the king&rsquo;s requiem
+      to the dead, his farewell to the dying!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No sound of the outer world penetrated that lonely room. The guard of
+      honor, on duty upon the Sans-Souci terrace, halted suddenly, as the sad
+      music fell upon his ear. The fresh spring breeze swept through the trees,
+      and drove the laden-blossomed elder-bushes tapping against the
+      windowpanes, as if to offer a May-greeting to the lonely king. The servant
+      in waiting stole on tiptoe to the door of the anteroom, listening
+      breathlessly at the key-hole to the moving melody.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even Alkmene suddenly raised her head as if something unusual were taking
+      place, fixed her great eyes upon her master, jumping upon his knee, and
+      resting her fore-paws lovingly upon his breast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick neither observed nor felt the movement of his favorite; his
+      thoughts were absent from the present&mdash;absent from the earth! They
+      were wandering in the unknown future, with the spirits of those he longed
+      to see again in the Elysian fields.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wailing music of his flute expressed the lamentation of his soul, and
+      his eyes filled with tears as he raised them to the bust of Voltaire,
+      gazing at it with a look of pain until the melody was finished. Then
+      abruptly turning, half unwillingly, half angrily, he returned the flute to
+      the box, and stole away, covering his face with his hands, as if to hide
+      his emotion from himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now we have finished with the dead, and the living claim our thoughts,&rdquo;
+       sighed the king. &ldquo;What an absurd thing is the human heart! It will never
+      grow cold or old; always pretending to a spark of the fire which that
+      shameful fellow Prometheus stole from the gods. What an absurdity! What
+      have I, an old fellow, to do with the fire of Prometheus, when the fire of
+      war will soon rage around me,&rdquo; At this instant the door gently opened.
+      &ldquo;What do you want, Muller? What do you poke your stupid face in here for?&rdquo;
+       said the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, your majesty,&rdquo; replied the footman, &ldquo;the Baron von Arnim begs
+      for an audience.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bid him enter,&rdquo; commanded the king, sinking back in his old, faded velvet
+      arm-chair. Resting his chin upon his staff, he signed to the baron, who
+      stood bowing upon the threshold, to approach. &ldquo;Well, Arnim, what is the
+      matter? What papers have you there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; answered Baron von Arnim, &ldquo;the contract of the French actors,
+      which needs renewing, I have to lay before your majesty; also a paper,
+      received yesterday, from Madame Mara; still another from the singer
+      Conciliani, and a petition from four persons from the opera.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What stupid stuff!&rdquo; growled the king, at the same time bestowing a caress
+      upon Alkmene. &ldquo;Commence with your report. Let us hear what those singers
+      are now asking for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The singer Conciliani has addressed a heart-breaking letter to your
+      majesty, and prays for an increase of salary&mdash;that it is impossible
+      for him to live upon three thousand dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! that is what is wanted?&rdquo; cried the king, furious, and striking his
+      staff upon the floor. &ldquo;The fellow is mad; When he cannot live upon three
+      thousand, he will not be able to live upon four. I want money for cannon.
+      I cannot spend it for such nonsense. I am surprised, Von Arnim that you
+      repeat such stuff to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, it is my duty that I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! Your duty is not to flatter them. I pay them to give me pleasure,
+      not presumption. Remember, once for all, do not flatter them. Conciliani
+      will get no increase of salary. If he persists, let him go to the
+      mischief! This is my decision.&mdash;Proceed! What is Madame Mara begging
+      for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame Mara constantly refuses to sing the airs which your majesty
+      commanded to be introduced into the opera of &lsquo;Coriolanus.&rsquo; She has taken
+      the liberty to address you in writing; here is the letter, if your majesty
+      will have the grace to read it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By no means, sir, by no means!&rdquo; cried the king; at the same instant
+      catching the paper with his staff, he slung it like a shot arrow to the
+      farthest corner of the room, to the great amusement of Alkmene, who, with
+      a loud bark, sprang from her master&rsquo;s knee, and with a bound caught the
+      strange bird, and tore it in pieces. &ldquo;You are right, my pet,&rdquo; said the
+      king, laughing, &ldquo;you have written my answer with your nose to this
+      arrogant person. Director, say to Madame Mara that I pay her to sing, not
+      to write. She must sing both airs, or she may find herself at Spandau for
+      her obstinacy, where her husband is, for the same reason. She can reflect,
+      and judge for herself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The director could scarcely repress a sigh, foreboding the disagreeable
+      scene that he would have to encounter with the proud and passionate
+      singer. Timidly Von Arnim alluded to the four persons from the opera. &ldquo;Who
+      are these demoiselles, and what do they want?&rdquo; asked the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; replied the Baron von Arnim, &ldquo;they are the four persons who
+      personate the role of court ladies and maids of honor to the queens and
+      princesses. They beg your majesty to secure to them a fixed income.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! Go to my writing-table and bring paper and pencil; I will dictate
+      a reply to them,&rdquo; said the king. &ldquo;Now write, Von Arnim: &lsquo;To the four court
+      ladies and maids of honor of the opera: You are mistaken in addressing
+      yourselves to me; the affair of your salaries concerns YOUR emperors and
+      kings. To them you must address yourselves.&mdash;Adieu.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Arnim could scarcely repress a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now we come to the last affair&mdash;the salaries and pensions of the
+      French actors,&rdquo; said the king; &ldquo;but first tell me the news in Berlin&mdash;what
+      report has trumpeted forth in the last few days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, the latest news in Berlin, which rumor brings home to every
+      hearth-side and every heart is, that your majesty has declared war with
+      Austria on account of the Bavarian succession. Every one rejoices, sire,
+      that you will humble that proud and supercilious house of Austria, and
+      enter the lists for Germany.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen!&rdquo; answered the king, sternly. &ldquo;I did not ask you to blow the
+      trumpet of praise, as if your honor, inspector of the theatres, thought
+      yourself upon the stage, and would commence a comedy with the king of
+      lamps. So it is known then that my soldiers will enter the great theatre
+      of war, and that we are about to fight real battles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is known, sire,&rdquo; replied Von Arnim, bowing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then what I am about to communicate to you will not surprise you. The
+      present juncture of affairs leads us to await very grave scenes&mdash;we
+      can well dispense with comedy. I withdraw the salaries and pensions of the
+      French actors&mdash;your own is included. After you have dismissed the
+      French comedians, you will be entirely at leisure to pursue your
+      love-intrigues.&mdash;Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty,&rdquo; cried the baron, amazed, &ldquo;has your highness dismissed me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you deaf, or have you some of the cotton in your ears which I
+      presented to you at your recall from Copenhagen?&rdquo; replied the king. <i>[Footnote:
+      Baron von Arnim was ambassador to Copenhagen until 1754, when he begged
+      for his recall, stating that the damp climate was injurious to his health.
+      The king granted his request, and the baron returned to Berlin. At the
+      first audience with the king, Frederick handed Baron von Arnim a
+      carefully-packed box, saying, &ldquo;I do not wish the government to lose so
+      valuable a servant; in this box you will find something that will keep you
+      warm.&rdquo; Arnim could scarcely await his return home, to open the box; it
+      contained nothing but cotton. Some days afterward, however, the king
+      increased Von Arnim&rsquo;s income a thousand dollars, and sent him ambassador
+      to Dresden. Von Arnim was afterward director of the Royal Theatre until
+      dismissed in the above manner.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I have heard all, but I cannot believe it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; interrupted the king, &ldquo;To believe is difficult; you, I
+      presume, never belonged to the pious and believing. Your intrigues would
+      not admit of it; but now you have the leisure to pursue them with a right
+      good-will. You have only to discharge, as I have said, the entire French
+      troupe, and the whole thing is done with.&mdash;Adieu, Arnim, may you be
+      prospered!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Baron von Arnim muttered some incomprehensible words, and retreated from
+      the royal presence. The door had scarcely closed, when it was again opened
+      without ceremony by a young man, wearing a gold-laced dress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty,&rdquo; said he, hastily, in an undertone, &ldquo;your majesty, she has
+      just gone to the Palace Park, just the same hour she went yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is she alone?&rdquo; asked the king, rising.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, she is not alone; at a little distance the nurse follows with the
+      princely infant!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king cast an angry glance at the saucy, laughing face of the young
+      man, who at once assumed a devoted, earnest mien. &ldquo;Has your majesty any
+      further commands?&rdquo; asked he, timidly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I command you to hold your tongue until you are spoken to!&rdquo; replied the
+      king, harshly. &ldquo;You understand spying and hanging about, as you have good
+      ears, a quick eye, and a keen scent. I therefore make use of you, because
+      I need a spy; but, understand that a fellow who allows himself to be used
+      as a spy, is, indeed, a useful subject, but generally a worthless one, and
+      to whom it is becoming to be modest and humble. I am now going to Berlin;
+      you will accompany me. Take off your finery, so that every one may not
+      recognize at once the peacock by his feathers. Go to the taverns and
+      listen to what they say about the war; whether the people are much
+      dissatisfied about it. Keep your great ears wide open, and bring me this
+      evening all the latest news. Go, now, tell my coachman to be ready; in
+      half an hour I shall set off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man slunk away to the door, but stood without opening it, his
+      head down, and his under-lip hanging out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo; asked the king, in a milder tone, &ldquo;why do you not
+      go, Kretzschmar?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot go away if your majesty is angry with me,&rdquo; muttered the servant,
+      insolently. &ldquo;I do not wish to hear or see any thing more for you when your
+      majesty abuses me, and considers me such a mean, base fellow. Your majesty
+      first commanded me to listen, and spy, and now that I am obeying, I am
+      despised and scolded for it. I will have nothing more to do with it, and I
+      wish your majesty to leave me a simple footman rather than to accord me
+      such a mean position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not mean so badly,&rdquo; said the king. &ldquo;I mean well enough for you; but
+      you must not permit yourself to be arrogant or disrespectful, otherwise
+      you may go to Tophet! You are no common spy, you are listening about a
+      little because you know I am fond of hearing what the people are saying,
+      and what is going on in Berlin and Potsdam. But take care that they know
+      nothing about it, otherwise they will be careful, and you will hear
+      nothing. Now be off, and in order to see a cheerful face on you, I will
+      make you a present.&rdquo; The king drew from his vest-pocket a purse, well
+      filled with small coin, and gave it to the young man, who took it, though
+      he still looked angry and insolent. &ldquo;Do not let your under-lip hang down
+      so, for I may step upon it,&rdquo; said the king. &ldquo;Put the money in your pocket,
+      and hurry off to tell old Pfund to harness quickly, or I shall not arrive
+      in time at the park.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no danger, your majesty, for the miss seems very fond of the
+      promenade; she remained two hours in the park yesterday, always walking in
+      the most quiet places, as if she were afraid to meet any one. She sat a
+      whole hour on the iron seat by the Carp Pond, and then she went to the
+      Philosopher&rsquo;s Walk, and skipped about like a young colt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a very cunning fellow, and know how to use your eyes well,&rdquo; said
+      the king. &ldquo;Now be off, and order the carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. WILHELMINE ENKE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Palace Park was as quiet and deserted as usual. Not a voice, not a
+      sound, disturbed the stillness of those silent walks. For this reason,
+      undoubtedly, a young lady had sought it; at least her whole being
+      expressed satisfaction and delight to wander unobserved through those
+      quiet, shady alleys. She was of slight and elegant proportions, simply
+      attired, without pretension, in a dark dress of some thin silk material.
+      Her black silk mantle was thrown aside upon the stone seat near her,
+      uncovering thus, in solitude, to the sun and birds, her lovely neck and
+      arms, the beauty of which might rival the statues of the ancients. Her
+      face was not of regular beauty, yet it possessed that expression of grace,
+      spirit, and energy, which is oftener a more powerful and more enduring
+      charm than regular beauty. Her large, expressive black eyes possessed a
+      wonderful power, and her red, pouting lips wore a sweet smile; her fine
+      Roman nose lent an air of decision, whilst her high-arched forehead led
+      one to believe that daring, energetic thought lay hidden beneath those
+      clusters of brown curls. She was not in the bloom of youth, but at
+      twenty-five she appeared younger than many beauties at eighteen; and if
+      her form no longer possessed the charm of girlhood, it was attractive from
+      its suppleness and full, beautiful bust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Louisa, Louisa, where are you?&rdquo; cried the young lady, stepping quickly
+      forward toward a side-path, which led from the broad avenue, and at the
+      end of which was a sunny grassplot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here I am, miss; I am coming.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss,&rdquo; murmured the young lady, &ldquo;how dreadfully it sounds! The blush of
+      shame rises to my face, for it sounds like bitter mockery and contempt,
+      and brings my whole life before me. Yet, I must endure it&mdash;and I
+      scarcely wish it were otherwise. Ah, there you are, Louisa, and there is
+      my beautiful boy,&rdquo; she cried, with a glad voice, hastening toward the
+      peasant-woman and bending fondly over her child. &ldquo;How beautiful and how
+      knowing he looks! It seems as if my little Alexander began to recognize me&mdash;he
+      looks so earnest and sensible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He knows you, miss,&rdquo; said the nurse, courtesying, &ldquo;and he knows, like
+      other children, who loves him. Children and dogs know who love them. The
+      children cry, and the dogs hide themselves when people are around who
+      dislike them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense, Louisa!&rdquo; laughed the young lady, as she bent to kiss her child&mdash;&ldquo;nonsense!
+      did not my little boy cry when his father took him yesterday? And he loves
+      his child most tenderly, as only a father can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, there is another reason for that,&rdquo; said the nurse. &ldquo;He has just
+      passed his first stupid three months, and he begins to hear and see what
+      passes around him, and it was the first man&rsquo;s face that he had seen. But
+      only look, miss, what a beautiful little dog is coming up the path.&rdquo; It
+      was indeed a lovely greyhound, of the small Italian race, which came
+      bounding joyfully toward them, and as he saw the woman barked loudly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be quiet, Alkmene, be quiet!&rdquo; cried a loud, commanding voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Heaven! it is the king!&rdquo; whispered the young lady, turning pale, and,
+      as if stunned, retreated a few steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is really the king,&rdquo; cried the nurse, &ldquo;and he is coming directly
+      from the grass-plot here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us go as quickly as possible, Louisa. Come, come,&rdquo; and she hastily
+      threw her mantle around her, drawing the hood over her curly head. She had
+      only proceeded a few steps, when a loud voice bade her to remain&mdash;to
+      stand still. She stood as if rooted to the spot, leaning upon her nurse
+      for support; her knees sank under her, and it seemed as if the whole world
+      turned around with her. After the first tumult of anxiety and fear,
+      succeeded an insolent determination, and, forcing herself to calmness, she
+      said: &ldquo;It is the turning-point of my life; the next few minutes will
+      either crush me or assure my future; let me struggle for the future, then.
+      I will face him who approaches me as my judge.&rdquo; Forcing herself to
+      composure, slowly and with effort she turned toward the king, who,
+      approaching by the side path, had entered the avenue, and now stood before
+      her. But as she encountered the fiery glance of the king&rsquo;s eye, she
+      quailed before it, casting down her own, covered with confusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; demanded the king, with stern authority, keeping his eagle
+      eye fixed upon her. Silent and immovable she stood; only the quick,
+      feverish breathing and the heaving bosom told the storm that was raging
+      within.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; repeated the voice, with still more severity&mdash;&ldquo;who
+      permit themselves to use my park as a nursery? What child is that? and who
+      are its parents? They should be of high position at court, who would dare
+      to send their child and nurse to the royal park; and with what joy they
+      must regard the offspring of their conjugal tenderness! Tell me to whom
+      does this child belong?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sobbing convulsively, the lady sank, kneeling, with uplifted arms,
+      imploring for mercy. &ldquo;Sire, annihilate me with your anger, but do not
+      crush me with your scorn!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What language do you permit yourself to hold?&rdquo; asked the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, it is the language of an unhappy, despairing woman, who knows that
+      she stands before that great monarch whose judgment she fears more than
+      that of her God, who sees into her heart, and reads the tortures and
+      reproaches of her conscience; who knows what she suffers, and knows, also,
+      that she is free from self-interest, and every base desire. I believe that
+      God will forgive what I fear your majesty will not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak presumptuously, and remind me of the theatre princesses who
+      represent a grand scene with a pathetic exit. Let me inform you, I despise
+      comedians&mdash;only high tragedy pleases me. Spare yourself the trouble
+      to act before me, but answer me&mdash;who are you? Whose child is that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, only God and my king should hear my reply&mdash;I beg the favor to
+      send away the nurse and child.&rdquo; The king assented, slightly nodding his
+      head, at the same time bidding her not to kneel to him as to an image.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady rose and sought the nurse, who, from fright, had withdrawn into
+      the shrubbery, and stood staring at the king with wide-open eyes. &ldquo;Go
+      home, Louisa, and put the child to sleep,&rdquo; said she, quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse obeyed promptly, and when alone, the king demanded again, &ldquo;Who
+      are you? and to whom does the child belong?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, I am the daughter of your chapel musician Enke, and the
+      child is the son of Prince Frederick William of Prussia,&rdquo; she replied, in
+      a firm and defiant manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king&rsquo;s eyes flashed as he glanced at the bold speaker. &ldquo;You say so,
+      but who vouches for the truth of it? You permit yourself to use a high
+      name, to give your child an honorable father! What temerity! what
+      presumption! What if I should not believe you, but send you to the house
+      of correction, at Spandau, as a slanderer, as guilty of high-treason, as a
+      sinner and an adulteress?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You could not do it, sire&mdash;you could not,&rdquo; cried Wilhelmine Enke,
+      &ldquo;for you would also send there the honor and the name of your successor to
+      the throne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; cried the king, furiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean, your majesty, that the prince has holy duties toward me. I am the
+      mother of that child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You acknowledge your shame, and you dare confess it to me, your king,
+      that you are the favorite, the kept mistress of the Prince of Prussia, who
+      has already a wife that has borne him children? You do not even seek to
+      deny it, or to excuse yourself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would try to excuse myself, did I not feel that your majesty would not
+      listen to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What excuse could you offer?&mdash;there is none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love is my excuse,&rdquo; cried Wilhelmine, eagerly. &ldquo;Oh! my ruler and king, do
+      not shake your noble head so unbelievingly; do not look at me so
+      contemptuously. Oh, Father in heaven, I implore Thee to quicken my mind,
+      that my thoughts may become words, and my lips utter that which is burning
+      in my soul! In all these years of my poor, despised, obscure life, how
+      often have I longed for this hour when I might stand before my king, when
+      I might penitently clasp his knees and implore mercy for myself and my
+      children&mdash;those poor, nameless beings, whose existence is my
+      accusation, and yet who are the pride and joy of my life! Oh, sire, I will
+      not accuse, to excuse myself; I will not cast the stone at others which
+      they have cast at me. But it is scarcely charitable to judge and condemn a
+      young girl fourteen years of age, who did but obey the command of her
+      parents, and followed the man who was the first and only one that ever
+      whispered the word of love in her ear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard that your parents sold their child to shame. Is it true?&rdquo;
+       cried the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, my father was poor; the scanty income of a chapel musician scarcely
+      sufficed to educate and support four children. The prince promised my
+      father to educate me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bah! The promises of a young man of twenty-five are made without
+      reflection, and rarely ever fulfilled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, to the Prince of Prussia I owe all that I know, and all that I am;
+      his promise to my dying father was fully redeemed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, by whom were you taught, and what have you learned?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, the prince wished, before all, that I should learn to speak
+      French. Madame Girard was my French instructress, and taught me to play
+      the guitar and spinet also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I presume you have learned to jabber a little French and drum a
+      little music,&rdquo; said the king, shrugging his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg pardon, sire; I have a tolerable knowledge of history and of
+      geography. I am familiar with the ancient and modern poets. I have read a
+      good French translation of Homer, Horace, and Virgil, with a master. I
+      have studied the history of Brandenburg, of Germany, and of America. We
+      have read the immortal works of Voltaire, of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and of
+      Shakespeare, with many of our modern poets. My instructor has read all
+      these works aloud to me, and he was much pleased when I repeated parts of
+      what he had read to me some days afterward.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You appear to have had a very learned instructor,&rdquo; remarked the king,
+      sneeringly. &ldquo;What is his name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His name, sire, is Prince Frederick William of Prussia. Yes, it is he who
+      has taught me&mdash;he who has made me an intelligent woman. However young
+      he was when he undertook the task, he has accomplished it with fidelity,
+      firmness, and patience. He loved me, and would make me worthy of him, in
+      heart and mind. I shall ever be grateful to him, and only death can
+      extinguish the love and esteem with which he in spires me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose I command you to leave the prince? Suppose I will no longer
+      endure the scandal of this sinful relation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall never willingly separate myself from my dear prince and master&mdash;from
+      the father of my two children. Your majesty will be obliged to force me
+      from him,&rdquo; answered Wilhelmine, defiantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that will not be necessary, mademoiselle,&rdquo; cried the king. &ldquo;There are
+      ways enough. I will make known my wishes to the prince; I will command him
+      to leave you, and have no further communication with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; she answered, gently, &ldquo;I know that the prince is an obedient and
+      respectful subject and servant to his king in all things, but this command
+      he would not obey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He would not dare to brave my commands!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He would not brave them, sire. Oh, no; it would be simply impossible to
+      obey them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What would hinder him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love, sire; the respect which he owes to me as the mother of his two
+      children&mdash;who has consecrated her love, her honor to him, and of whom
+      no one can say that she has injured the fidelity which she has sworn to
+      the prince&mdash;to the man of her first and only love&mdash;even with a
+      word or look.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean to say, that I cannot separate you from the prince but by
+      force?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your majesty,&rdquo; cried she, with conscious power, &ldquo;that is exactly
+      what I mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find yourself deceived; you will be made to realize it,&rdquo; said
+      the king, with a menacing tone. &ldquo;You know nothing of the power that lies
+      in a legitimate marriage, and what rivals legitimate children are, whom
+      one dares acknowledge before God&mdash;before the world. Boast not of the
+      love of the prince, but remember that an honorable solitude is the only
+      situation becoming to you. Such connections bear their own curse and
+      punishment with them. Hasten to avoid them. Lastly, I would add, never
+      dare to mingle your impure hands in the affairs of state. I have been
+      obliged to give the order to the state councillors in appointments and
+      grants of office, not to regard the protection and recommendation of a
+      certain high personage, as you are the real protectress and bestower of
+      mercy. Take care, and never let it happen again. You will never venture to
+      play the little Pompadour here, nor anything else but what your dishonor
+      allows you; otherwise you will have to deal with me! You say that you have
+      read Homer; then, doubtless, you remember the story of Penelope, who, from
+      conjugal fidelity, spun and wove, undoing at night what she had woven by
+      day. It is true, you bear little resemblance to this chaste dame, but you
+      might emulate her in spinning and weaving; and if you are not in future
+      retiring, I can easily make a modern Penelope of you, and have you
+      instructed in spinning, for which you will have the best of opportunities
+      in the house of correction at Spandau. Remember this, and never permit
+      yourself to practise protection. I will keep the spinning-wheel and the
+      wool ready for you; that you may count upon. Remember, also, that it is
+      very disagreeable to me that you visit my park, as I like to breathe pure
+      air. Direct your promenade elsewhere, and avoid meeting me in future.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence! I have heard sufficient. You have nothing more to say to me. Go,
+      hide your head, that no one may recognize your shame, or the levity of the
+      prince. Go&mdash;and, farewell forever!&rdquo; He motioned impatiently to her to
+      retire, fastening his eyes with a fiery, penetrating glance upon her pale,
+      agitated face, her bowed, humble attitude, and still continued to regard
+      her as she painfully dragged herself down the walk, as if her limbs were
+      giving way under her. Long stood the king gazing after her, resting upon
+      his staff; and as she disappeared at the end of the walk, he still stood
+      there immovable. By degrees his face assumed a milder expression. &ldquo;He who
+      is free from sin, let him cast the first stone at her,&rdquo; said the king,
+      softened, as he slowly turned down the path which would lead to his
+      carriage, waiting outside the park.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick was lost in thought, and addressed no conversation to the
+      equerry, Von Schwerin, who sat opposite to him. But as they drove through
+      the beautiful street Unten den Linden, at Berlin, Frederick glanced at the
+      equerry, and found that he had fallen asleep, wearied with the long
+      silence and the monotony of the drive. The king spoke to Alkmene, loud and
+      earnestly, until Herr von Schwerin, awakened and startled, glanced at the
+      king, frightened, and trying to discover whether his fearful crime against
+      etiquette would draw upon him the royal censure. Frederick, however,
+      appeared not to notice his fright, and spoke kindly to him: &ldquo;Did you not
+      tell me, Schwerin, that Count Schmettau would sell his country residence
+      at Charlottenburg?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At your service, your majesty, he asked me to purchase it, or find him a
+      purchaser.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much is it worth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, Count Schmettau demands eight thousand dollars for it. There is a
+      beautiful park belonging to it, and the house is worthy the name of a
+      castle, so large is it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you not buy it, if the count offered it to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The equerry assumed a sad mien, and answered, sighing: &ldquo;Sire, I should be
+      the happiest of men if I could buy that charming residence, and it would
+      be a real blessing to me if I could enjoy in summer at times the fresh
+      air. My finances unfortunately, do not allow such expenses, as I am not
+      rich, and have a large family.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you are right not to spend money unnecessarily,&rdquo; said the king,
+      quietly. &ldquo;You can have as much fresh air at Potsdam as can ever enter your
+      mouth, and it costs neither you nor I any thing. Say to Count Schmettau
+      that you have a purchaser for his residence at Charlottenburg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you are really too kind,&rdquo; cried the equerry, in an excitement of joy;
+      &ldquo;I do not know&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the carriage entered the palace court, and the concluding words were
+      inaudible. Herr von Schwerin alighted quickly to assist the king. &ldquo;Say to
+      Schmettau to present himself to my treasurer and cabinet councillor,
+      Menkon, tomorrow morning at twelve o&rsquo;clock, at Sans-Souci.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king nodded kindly to the equerry, and passed into the Swiss saloon,
+      and farther on into the private rooms which he was accustomed to occupy
+      whenever he remained at the capital. The Swiss saloon was fast filling,
+      not alone with the generals and staff-officers of the Berlin garrison, but
+      with the officers of the regiments from the provinces, who presented
+      themselves at the palace according to the order of the king. The most of
+      them were old and worn out, body and mind. They all looked morose and
+      sorrowful. The great news of the approaching war with Austria had spread
+      through the military. The old laurel-crowned generals of the Seven Years&rsquo; 
+      War were unwilling to go forth to earn new laurels, for which they had
+      lost all ambition. Not one dared betray his secret thoughts to another, or
+      utter a word of disapproval. The king&rsquo;s spies were everywhere, and none
+      could trust himself to converse with his neighbor, as he might prove to be
+      one of them. There reigned an anxious, oppressive silence; the generals
+      and staff-officers exchanged the ordinary greetings. All eyes were turned
+      toward the door through which the king would enter, bowed down, like his
+      generals, with the cares of life, and the burden of old age. The king
+      slowly entered. He was, indeed, an old man, like those he came amongst,
+      and now saluted. An expression of imperishable youth lighted up his pale,
+      sunken face, and his eyes flashed with as much daring and fire as
+      thirty-eight years before, when he had assembled his young officers around
+      him in this very hall, to announce to them that he would march against
+      Austria. How many wars, how many battles, how many illusions, victories,
+      and defeats had the king experienced in these thirty-eight years! How
+      little the youthful, fiery king of that day resembled the weak old man of
+      to-day; how little in common the young King Frederick had with &ldquo;Alten
+      Fritz.&rdquo; And now in this feeble body dwelt the same courageous spirit. In
+      the course of these years King Frederick II had become Frederick the
+      Great! And great he was to-day, this little old man&mdash;great in his
+      intentions and achievements, never heeding his own debility and need of
+      repose. All his thoughts and endeavors concentrated on the welfare of his
+      people and his country&mdash;on the greatness and glory of Germany. Those
+      eyes which now glanced over the circle of generals were still flashing as
+      those of the hero-king whose look had disarmed the lurking assassin, and
+      confounded the distinguished savant in the midst of his eloquence, so that
+      he stammered and was silent. He was still Frederick the Great, who,
+      leaning upon his staff, was surrounded by his generals, whom he called to
+      fight for their fatherland, for Germany!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;I have called you together to announce to you
+      that we must go forth to new wars, and, God willing, to new victories. The
+      Emperor of Austria forces me to it, for, against all laws and customs, and
+      against all rights of kingdoms, he thinks to bring German territory into
+      the possession of the house of Hapsburg. Charles Theodore, prince-elector,
+      having no children, has concluded a treaty with the Emperor Joseph, that
+      at his death the electorate of Bavaria will fall to Austria. In
+      consequence thereof an Austrian army has marched into Bavaria, and
+      garrisoned the frontier.&mdash;The prince-elector, Duke Charles Theodore,
+      was not authorized to proceed thus, for, though he had no children to
+      succeed him, he had a lawful successor in his brother&rsquo;s son, Duke Charles
+      von Zweibrucken. Electoral Saxony and Mecklenburg have well-founded
+      pretensions, even if Zweibrucken were not existing. All these princes have
+      addressed themselves to me, and requested me to represent them to the
+      emperor and to the imperial government&mdash;to protect them in their
+      injured rights. I have first tried kindness and persuasion to bring back
+      Austria from her desire of aggrandizement, but in Vienna they have
+      repulsed every means of peaceable arbitration. I, as one of the rulers of
+      the empire (and as I have reaffirmed the Westphalian treaty through the
+      Hubertsburger treaty), feel bound to preserve the privileges, the rights,
+      the liberty of the German states. I have therefore well reflected, and
+      decided to draw the sword&mdash;that what the diplomats have failed to
+      arrange with the pen should be settled with the sword. These are my
+      reasons, gentlemen, which make it my duty to assemble an army; therefore I
+      have called you together.&rdquo; His fiery eyes flashed around the circle,
+      peeling into the thin, withered faces of his generals, and encountering
+      everywhere a grave, earnest mien.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king repressed with an effort a sigh; then continued, with a mild
+      voice: &ldquo;My feeble old age does not allow me to travel as in my fiery
+      youth. I shall use a post-carriage, and you, gentlemen, have the liberty
+      to do the same. On the day of battle you will find me mounted; you will
+      follow my example. Until then, farewell!&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: The king&rsquo;s words.&mdash;See
+      &ldquo;Prussia, Frederick the Great,&rdquo; vol. iii.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Long live the king!&rdquo; cried General von Krokow; and all the generals who
+      formerly joined in this cry of the Prussian warrior, now repeated it in
+      weak, trembling tones. Frederick smiled a recognition, bowing on all
+      sides, then turned slowly away, leaning upon his staff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When once more alone, the youthful expression faded from his eyes, and the
+      gloomy shadows of old age settled down upon his thoughtful brow. &ldquo;They
+      have all grown old and morose,&rdquo; said he, mildly, &ldquo;they will not show any
+      more heroism; the fire of ambition is quenched in their souls! A warm
+      stove must warm their old limbs. Oh! it is a pitiful thing to grow old;
+      and still they call themselves the images of God! Poor boasters, who, with
+      a breath of the Almighty, are overturned and bent as a blade of grass in
+      the sand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, may I come in?&rdquo; asked a gentle, happy child&rsquo;s voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king turned hastily toward the door, so softly opened, and there stood
+      a charming little boy, in the uniform of a flag-bearer, with the cap upon
+      his head, and a neat little sword by his side. &ldquo;Yes, you may enter,&rdquo;
+       nodded the king kindly to him. &ldquo;You know I sent for you, my little
+      flag-bearer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. FREDERICK WILLIAM.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The little flag-bearer skipped into the room with graceful vivacity, and
+      sprang, with a merry bound, up to the king, took his hand without
+      ceremony, and pressed it to his lips. Then, raising up his head and
+      shaking back his light-brown curls from his rosy cheeks, his bright-blue
+      eyes sparkling, he looked him full in the face. &ldquo;Your majesty, you say
+      that you sent for me; but I must tell you that if you had not sent for me
+      I would have come here alone, and begged so long at the door, that you
+      would have let me come in!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what if I would not have let you come in at all?&rdquo; said the king,
+      smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little flag-bearer reflected a moment, then answered with a confident
+      air: &ldquo;Your majesty, I would have forced open the door, thrown myself at
+      your feet, and kissed your hand, saying, &lsquo;My king, my dear great-uncle, I
+      must come in to thank you a thousand times for the flag-bearer&rsquo;s
+      commission you have sent me, and for the beautiful uniform.&rsquo; Then I would
+      see if your majesty had the courage to send me away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see, my prince&mdash;do you think my courage could fail me upon
+      any occasion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, in bad things,&rdquo; zealously cried the prince, &ldquo;and it would be bad if
+      you would not let me thank you. I am so happy with the commission and the
+      beautiful uniform which you so graciously sent to me! Tell me, your
+      majesty, do I not look beautifully?&rdquo; The boy straightened his elegant,
+      slender form, and saluted the king, putting the two fingers of his right
+      hand upon his cap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; said Frederick, &ldquo;you look very nicely, my prince; but it is
+      not enough that you look well&mdash;you must behave well. From a
+      flag-bearer in my army I expect very different things than from any common
+      child. Who wears my uniform must prove himself worthy of the honor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty,&rdquo; cried the prince, &ldquo;I assure you, upon my word of honor,
+      that I have no bad marks when I wear the uniform. Your majesty can ask my
+      tutor. He came with me, and waits in the anteroom to speak with you. He
+      will tell you that I have a good report.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, we will call him presently,&rdquo; said Frederick, smiling. &ldquo;Now we
+      will chat a little together. Tell me whether you are very industrious, and
+      if you are learning anything of consequence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I must learn, even if I had no inclination to; Herr Behnisch leaves
+      me no peace. I have scarcely time to play. I am always learning to read,
+      to write, to cipher, and to work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about the geography and universal history?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, your majesty, I wish there were no geography and history in the
+      world, and then I should not have to study so cruelly hard, and I could
+      play more. My mother sent me last week a new battledore and shuttlecock,
+      but I can never learn to play with it. I no sooner begin, than Herr
+      Behnisch calls me to study. To-day I was very cunning&mdash;oh, I was so
+      sly! I put it in the great-pocket of my tutor&rsquo;s coat, and he brought it
+      here without knowing it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was very naughty,&rdquo; said the king, a little severely. The prince
+      colored, and, a little frightened, said: &ldquo;Sire, I could not bring it any
+      other way. I beg pardon, the uniform is so tight, and then&mdash;then, I
+      thought it would be dishonoring it to put a shuttlecock in the
+      cartridge-box.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was a good thought, prince, and for that I will forgive you the
+      trick upon your tutor. But what will you do with the ball here? Why did
+      you bring it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I wished to show it to your majesty, it is so beautiful, and then beg
+      you to let me play a little.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will see, Fritz,&rdquo; said the king, much pleased. &ldquo;If you deserve it,
+      that shall be your reward. Tell me the truth, is your tutor satisfied with
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, Herr Behnisch is never really pleased, but he has not scolded me
+      much lately, so I must have been pretty good. One day he wrote &lsquo;Bien&rsquo; 
+      under my French exercise. Oh, I was so happy that I spent six groschen of
+      the thaler my father gave me a little while since, and bought two pots of
+      gilly-flowers, one for myself and one for my little brother Henry, that he
+      should have a souvenir of my &lsquo;Bien!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was right,&rdquo; said the king, nodding approvingly. &ldquo;When you are good,
+      you must always let your friends and relations take part in it; keep the
+      bad only for yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will remember that, and I thank you for the kind instruction.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The studies seem to go very well, but how is it with the behavior? They
+      tell me that the prince is not always polite to his visitors; that he is
+      sometimes very rude, even to the officers who pay their respects to him on
+      his father&rsquo;s account, and on my account, not on his own, for what do they
+      care for such a little snip as he? They go to honor Prince Frederick
+      William of Prussia, though he is only a little flag-bearer. They tell me
+      that you do not appreciate the honor, but that at Easter you behaved very
+      badly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, it is true; I cannot deny it&mdash;I did behave badly,&rdquo; sighed the
+      little prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was the matter?&rdquo; asked the king. &ldquo;It was not from fear, I hope? I
+      should be very angry at that. Tell me yourself, and tell me the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty can depend upon the whole truth. My tutor says that lying is
+      despicable, and that a prince who will one day be a king should be too
+      proud to tell a lie! I will tell you all about it. The officers came to
+      see me at Easter, just as I had put the Easter eggs in the garden, for my
+      little brother and some other boys whom I had invited to hunt for them. I
+      had spent my last six groschen for the eggs, and I anticipated so much
+      pleasure with the hide-and-seek for them. We had just begun, when the
+      officers came.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was really unfortunate,&rdquo; said the king, sympathizingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sire, very disagreeable, and I could not possibly feel kindly. While
+      the officers were talking, I was always wishing they would go. But they
+      stayed and stayed&mdash;and when Major von Werder began to make a long
+      speech to me, and I thought there was no end to it, I became impatient and
+      furious&mdash;and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you hesitate?&rdquo; asked the king, looking tenderly at the frank,
+      glowing face of the boy. &ldquo;What happened?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something dreadful, sire! I could not keep in any longer. The major kept
+      on talking, and looked at me so sharply, I could not help making an
+      abominable face. It is unfortunately true&mdash;I ran my tongue out at him&mdash;only
+      just a little bit&mdash;and I drew it back in an instant; but it was done,
+      and a dreadful scene followed. The major did not say any thing, my tutor
+      was red as fire, and I was thunderstruck!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was excessively rude, my little flag-bearer,&rdquo; cried the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young prince was so ashamed, and was looking down so penitently, that
+      he did not see the smile on Frederick&rsquo;s face, and the affectionate look
+      with which he regarded the youthful sinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know that you deserve to be imprisoned fourteen days, and live on
+      bread and water, for insubordination?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it now, sire. I beg pardon most humbly,&rdquo; said the prince, with
+      quivering voice and with tears in his eyes. &ldquo;I have been punished enough,
+      without that. Herr Behnisch would not let me go to the garden again, and I
+      have never seen the eggs which I spent my last groschen for, nor the boys
+      whom I had invited. I was made to stay in my room all Easter week, learn
+      twenty Latin words every day, and write three pages of German words in
+      good handwriting. It was a hard punishment, but I knew that I deserved it,
+      and did not complain. I only thought that I would do better in future.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you thought so, and you have already been punished, we will say no
+      more about it,&rdquo; said the king. &ldquo;But tell me, how did you get on at
+      Whitsuntide, when the officers paid you their respects again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty,&rdquo; answered the prince, &ldquo;it was a great deal better; I
+      behaved tolerably well, except a very little rudeness, which was not so
+      bad after all. <i>[Footnote: The little prince&rsquo;s own words.&mdash;See
+      &ldquo;Diary of Prince Frederick William,&rdquo; p. 18.]</i> Herr Behnisch did not
+      punish me; he only said, another time, that I should do better, and not be
+      so taciturn, but greet the gentlemen in a more friendly manner. I must
+      tell you, sire, that when Herr Behnisch does not scold, it is a sure sign
+      that I have behaved pretty well; and this time he did not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fritz, I believe you,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;and you shall have the reward that
+      you asked for&mdash;stay here and play a little while. Go, now, and call
+      your tutor; I have a few words to say to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little prince sprang toward the door, but suddenly stopped,
+      embarrassed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo; asked the king. &ldquo;Why do you not call your tutor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I am very much troubled. Herr Behnisch will be very angry when you
+      tell him about the shuttlecock. I beg you not to betray me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but if you will play before me, you must get the plaything which you
+      say is in his pocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, then I had rather not play,&rdquo; cried the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;your punishment shall be, to take the
+      plaything as cleverly out of the pocket as you put it in. If you do it
+      well, then I will say nothing about it; but, if your tutor discovers you,
+      then you must submit to the storm. It lies in your own hands. Whilst I am
+      conversing with the tutor, try your luck. Now call him in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince obeyed thoughtfully, and the tutor entered. He stood near the
+      door, and made the three prescribed bows; then he waited with a submissive
+      air for further commands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king was sitting opposite the door, his hands folded upon his staff
+      and his chin resting upon his hands, looking the tutor full in the face.
+      Herr Behnisch bore it calmly; not a feature moved in his angular, wooden
+      face. Near the tutor stood the little prince, his graceful, rosy,
+      childlike face expressing eager expectation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Approach!&rdquo; said the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr Behnisch stepped forward a little, and remained standing. The prince
+      glided noiselessly after him, keeping his eyes fixed on the tails of the
+      flesh-colored satin coat with which the tutor had adorned himself for this
+      extraordinary occasion. The prince smiled as he saw the pocket open and
+      the feathers of the shuttlecock peeping out. He stretched out his little
+      hand and crooked his fingers to seize it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come nearer! Herr Behnisch,&rdquo; said Frederick, who had observed the
+      movement of the little prince, and who was amused at the thought of
+      keeping him in suspense a little longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr Behnisch moved forward, and the prince, frightened, remained standing
+      with outstretched hand. He menaced the king with a glance of his bright
+      blue eyes. Frederick caught the look, smiled, and turned to the tutor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe it is three years since you commenced teaching the little
+      prince?&rdquo; said the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At your service, your majesty, since 1775.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A tolerably long time,&rdquo; said the king&mdash;&ldquo;long enough to make a savant
+      of a child of Nature. You have been faithful, and I am satisfied. The
+      copybooks which you sent me according to my orders are satisfactory. I
+      wished to acquaint you myself of my satisfaction, therefore I sent for
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty is very condescending,&rdquo; said the tutor, and his sharp,
+      angular face brightened a little. &ldquo;I am very happy in the gracious
+      satisfaction of your royal highness. I wished also to make known to you
+      personally my wishes in regard to the petition for the little prince&rsquo;s
+      pocket-money; he should learn the use of money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said the king, nodding to the prince, who stood behind the
+      tutor, holding up triumphantly the shuttle cock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yet, the most difficult feat remained to be accomplished. The battledoor
+      was in the very depths of the pocket; only the point of the handle was
+      visible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty,&rdquo; cried Herr Behnisch, who had taken the approving
+      exclamation of &ldquo;very well&rdquo; to himself&mdash;&ldquo;your majesty, I am very happy
+      that you have the grace to approve of my petition for pocket-money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I think it well,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;that the prince should learn not
+      to throw money out of the window. I will send you, monthly, for the
+      prince, two Fredericks d&rsquo;or, and, before you hand it over to him, change
+      it into small pieces, that there may be a great pile of it.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      The king&rsquo;s own words&mdash;See &ldquo;Confidential Letters.&rdquo;]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just at that moment the prince tried to seize the battle door. Herr
+      Behnisch felt the movement, and was on the point of turning around, when
+      Frederick stopped him, by saying, &ldquo;I believe it is time to commence a
+      regular course of instruction for the prince. At eight years of age the
+      education of an heir to the throne must progress rapidly, and be regulated
+      by fixed principles. I will write out my instructions, that you may always
+      have them before you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be my most earnest endeavor to follow your majesty&rsquo;s commands to
+      the letter,&rdquo; answered the tutor, who saw not the little prince, with
+      beaming face, behind him, swinging the battledoor high in the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am about to enter upon a new war; no one knows if he will ever return
+      from a campaign. I dare not spare my life, when the honor and fame of my
+      house are at stake. Our life and death, however, are in God&rsquo;s hands.
+      Before we risk our lives, we should put every thing in order, and leave
+      nothing undone which it is our duty to do. I will write my instructions
+      to-day, and send them to you. Promise me, upon your word of honor as a
+      man, that you will act upon them, as long as you are tutor to Prince
+      Frederick William, even if I should not return from the campaign.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I promise it to your majesty,&rdquo; answered the tutor. &ldquo;I will, in all
+      things, according to the best of my ability, follow your majesty&rsquo;s
+      instructions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you; I take you to be an honorable man,&rdquo; said the king. &ldquo;You
+      will always be mindful of the great responsibility which rests upon you,
+      as you have a prince to educate who will one day govern a kingdom, and
+      upon whom the weal and woe of many millions are dependent. And when those
+      millions of men one day bless the king whom you have educated, a part of
+      the blessing will fall upon you; but when they curse him, so falls the
+      curse likewise upon your guilty head, and you will feel the weight of it,
+      though you may be in your grave! Be mindful of this, and act accordingly.
+      Now you may depart. I will write the instructions immediately, so that you
+      may receive them to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr Behnisch bowed, backing out toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One thing more,&rdquo; cried the king, motioning with his Staff to the tutor.
+      &ldquo;In order that you may ever remember our interview, I will present you
+      with a souvenir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He opened the drawer of his private writing-table, and took out a gold
+      snuff-box, with his initials set in brilliants upon the cover; handing it
+      to Herr Behnisch, he motioned him to retire, and thus spare him the
+      expression of his gratitude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty,&rdquo; stammered Herr Behnisch, with tears in his eyes, &ldquo;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are an honest man, and so long as you remain so, you can count upon
+      me. Adieu!&mdash;Now,&rdquo; said the king, as the door closed, &ldquo;have you
+      recovered the plaything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here it is, your majesty,&rdquo; shouted the prince, as he held up triumphantly
+      the battledoor and shuttlecock high in the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You deserve your reward, and you shall have it. You can stay with me and
+      play with it here. Take care and not make too much noise, as I wish to
+      write.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king now seated himself, to draw up the instructions for Herr
+      Behnisch. While he was thus occupied, the little prince tossed his
+      shuttlecock, springing lightly after it on tiptoe to catch it; sometimes
+      he missed it, and then he cast an imploring look at the king, as it fell
+      upon the furniture; but he observed it not. He was absorbed in writing the
+      instructions for the education of the future king, Frederick William III.
+      The physical education of the prince was his first care. He dwelt upon the
+      necessity of the frequent practice of dancing, fencing, and riding, to
+      give suppleness, grace, and a good carriage&mdash;through severe training,
+      to make him capable of enduring all hardships. The different branches of
+      study next occupied the king. &ldquo;It is not sufficient,&rdquo; he wrote, &ldquo;that the
+      prince should learn the dates of history, to repeat them like a parrot;
+      but he must understand how to compare the events of ancient times with the
+      modern, and discover the causes which produced revolutions, and show that,
+      generally, in the world, virtue is rewarded and vice punished. Later, he
+      can learn a short course of logic, free from all pedantry; then study the
+      orations of Cicero and Demosthenes, and read the tragedies of Racine. When
+      older, he should have some knowledge of the opinions of philosophers, and
+      the different religious sects, without inspiring him with dislike for any
+      one sect. Make it clear to him that we all worship God&mdash;only in
+      different ways. It is not necessary that he should have too much respect
+      for the priests who instruct him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The shuttlecock fell, at this instant, upon the paper upon which the king
+      was writing. Frederick was too much occupied to look up, but he threw it
+      upon the floor, continuing to write:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The great object will be to awaken a love of learning in the prince, to
+      prevent any approach to pedantry, and not to make the course of
+      instruction too severe at the commencement. We now come to the chief
+      division of education, that which concerns the morals. Neither you nor all
+      the power in the world would be sufficient to alter the character of a
+      child. Education can do nothing further than moderate the violence of the
+      passions. Treat my nephew as the son of a citizen, who has to make his own
+      fortune. Say to him that, when he commits follies, and learns nothing, the
+      whole world will despise him. Let him assume no mannerisms, but bring him
+      up simply. The&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the second time the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. The king
+      looked up censuringly at the prince, who stood speechless with fright and
+      anxiety. The king again threw it upon the floor, and wrote on:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The prince must be polite toward every one; and if he is rude, he must
+      immediately make an apology. Teach him that all men are equal&mdash;that
+      high birth is a myth when not accompanied with merit. Let the prince speak
+      with every one, that he may gain confidence. It is of no consequence if he
+      talks nonsense; every one knows that he is a child. Take care in his
+      education, above all things, that he is self-reliant, and not led by
+      others; his follies, as well as his good qualities, should belong to
+      himself. It is of very great importance to inspire him with a love for
+      military life; and for this reason say to him, and let him hear others say
+      it, that every man who is not a soldier is a miserable fellow, whether
+      noble or not. He must see the soldiers exercise as often as possible; and
+      it would be well to send for five or six cadets, and have them drill
+      before him. Every thing depends upon cultivating a taste for these things.
+      Inspire him with a love of our country, above all things. Let no one speak
+      to him who is not truly patriotic.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. The little prince uttered a cry
+      of horror, staring at the plaything. This time the king did not receive
+      the interruption so calmly. He looked at the speechless boy as if very
+      angry; then took it and put it in his pocket. Casting another angry glance
+      at the prince, he continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The officers who dine with the prince shall tease and annoy him, that he
+      may become confident.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty,&rdquo; said the prince, timidly and imploringly, &ldquo;I beg pardon a
+      thousand times for being so awkward. I am sorry, and I will be more
+      careful in the future.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king paid no attention to him, but continued to write: &ldquo;When you
+      understand him better, try to learn his chief passion to uproot it, but to
+      moderate it.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: This entire instruction is an exact
+      translation of the original, which Frederick drew up in French, and which
+      is included in his &ldquo;Complete Works.&rdquo;]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear lord and king,&rdquo; began the prince again, &ldquo;I beg you will have the
+      goodness to give me my shuttlecock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king was silent, and with apparent indifference commenced reading over
+      what he had written.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prince Frederick William waited a long time, but, on receiving no answer,
+      and understanding that his pleading was in vain, his face grew red with
+      anger, and his eyes flashed. With an irritated, determined manner, he
+      stepped close up to the king, his hands resting upon his hips. &ldquo;Your
+      majesty,&rdquo; cried he, with a menacing tone, &ldquo;will you give me my ball or
+      not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king now looked up at the prince, who regarded him in an insolent,
+      questioning manner. A smile, mild as the evening sunset, spread over the
+      king&rsquo;s face; he laid his hand lovingly upon the curly head of the prince,
+      saying: &ldquo;They will never take away Silesia from you. Here is your
+      shuttlecock.&rdquo; He drew it from his pocket, and gave it to the little
+      prince, who seized his hand and pressed it to his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. THE DRIVE TO BERLIN.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine Enke passed the remainder of the day, after her meeting with
+      the king, in anguish and tears. She recalled all that he had said to her,
+      every word of which pierced her to the heart. Her little daughter of seven
+      years tried in vain to win a smile from her mamma with her gentle
+      caresses. In vain she begged her to sing to her and smile as she was wont
+      to do. The mother, usually so kind and affectionate, would today free
+      herself from her child, and sent her away with quivering lip, and tears in
+      her eyes, to listen to her nurse&rsquo;s stories.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once alone, Wilhelmine paced her room with rapid strides and folded arms,
+      giving vent to her repressed anguish. She reviewed her life, with all its
+      changing scenes. It was a sad, searching retrospection, but in it she
+      found consolation and excuse for herself. She thought of her childhood;
+      she saw the gloomy dwelling where she had lived with her parents,
+      brothers, and sisters. She recalled the need and the want of those years&mdash;the
+      sickly, complaining, but busy mother; the foolish, wicked father, who
+      never ceased his constant exercise of the bugle, except to take repeated
+      draughts of brandy, or scold the children. Then she saw in this joyless
+      dwelling, in which she crouched with her little sisters, a young girl
+      enter, and greet them smilingly. She wore a robe glittering with gold,
+      with transparent wings upon her shoulders. This young girl was
+      Wilhelmine&rsquo;s older sister, Sophie, who had just returned from the Italian
+      opera, where she was employed. She still had on her fairy costume in which
+      she had danced in the opera of &ldquo;Armida,&rdquo; and had come, with a joyous face,
+      to take leave of her parents, and tell them that a rich Russian count
+      loved her, and wanted to marry her; that in the intervening time he had
+      taken a beautiful apartment for her, where she would remove that very
+      evening. She must bid them farewell, for her future husband was waiting
+      for her in the carriage at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sophie laughed at her grumbling father, shook hands with her weeping
+      mother, and bent to kiss the children. Wilhelmine, in unspeakable anguish,
+      sprang after her, holding her fast, with both hands clinching the
+      crackling wings. She implored her sister to take her with her, while the
+      tears ran in streams down her cheeks. &ldquo;You know that I love you,&rdquo; she
+      cried, &ldquo;and my only pleasure is to see you every day. Take me with you,
+      and I will serve and obey you, and be your waiting-maid.&rdquo; Wilhelmine held
+      the wings firmly with a convulsive grasp, and continued to weep and
+      implore, until Sophie at last laughingly yielded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, come, if you will be my waiting-maid; no one combs hair as well as
+      you, and your simple style of arranging it suits me better than any other.
+      Come, come, it shall be arranged, you shall be my waiting-maid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The pictures of memory changed, and Wilhelmine saw herself in the midst of
+      splendor, as the poor little maid, unnoticed by her brilliant sister, the
+      beloved of the Russian Count Matuschko. Joy and pleasure reigned in the
+      beautifully gilded apartment where Sophie lived. She was the queen of the
+      feasts and the balls. Many rich and fine gentlemen came there, and the
+      beautiful Sophie, the dancer, the affianced of Count Matuschko, received
+      their homage. No one observed the sad little waiting-maid, in her dark
+      stuff dress, with her face bound up in black silk, as if she had the
+      toothache. She wore the cast-off morning dresses of her sister, and, at
+      her command, bound her face with the black silk, so that the admirers of
+      her sister should not see, by a fugitive glance, or chance meeting, the
+      budding beauty of the little maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine dared not enter the saloon when visitors were there; only when
+      Sophie was alone, or her artistic hand was needed to arrange her sister&rsquo;s
+      beautiful hair, was she permitted to stay with the future countess. Every
+      rough touch was resented with harsh words, blows, and ill-treatment. The
+      smiling fairy of the drawing-room, was the harsh, grim mistress for her
+      sister, whose every mistake was punished with unrelenting severity. In
+      fact, she was made a very slave; and now, after long years, the
+      remembrance of it even cast a gloomy shadow over Wilhelmine&rsquo;s face, and
+      her eyes flashed fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another picture now rose up before her soul, which caused her face to
+      brighten, as a beautiful beaming image presented itself, the image of her
+      first and only love! She lived over again the day when it rose up like a
+      sun before her wondering, admiring gaze, and yet it was a stormy day for
+      her. Sophie was very angry with her, because in crimping her hair she had
+      burnt her cheek, which turned the fairy into a fury. She threw the weak
+      child upon the floor, and beat and stamped upon her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly a loud, angry voice commanded her to cease, and a strong, manly
+      arm raised the trembling, weeping girl, and with threatening tone bade
+      Sophie be quiet. Prince Frederick William of Prussia took compassion on
+      the poor child. The sister had not remarked him in her paroxysm of rage;
+      had never heard him enter. He had been a witness to Wilhelmine&rsquo;s
+      ill-treatment. He now defended her, blaming her sister for her cruelty to
+      her, and declared his intention to be her future protector. How handsome
+      he looked; how noble in his anger; how his eyes flashed as he gazed upon
+      her, who knelt at his feet, and kissed them, looking up to him as her
+      rescuer!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wilhelmine, come with me; I do not wish you to remain here,&rdquo; said he;
+      &ldquo;your sister will never forgive you that I have taken your part. Come, I
+      will take you to your parents, and provide for you. You shall be as
+      beautiful and accomplished a lady as your sister, but, Heaven grant, a
+      more generous and noble-hearted one! Come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These words, spoken with a gentle, winning voice, had never died away in
+      her heart. Twelve years had passed since then, and they still rang in her
+      ear, in the tumult of the world as well as in the quiet of her lonely
+      room. They had comforted her when the shame of her existence oppressed
+      her; rejoiced her when, with the delight of youth and happiness, she had
+      given herself up to pleasure. She had followed him quietly, devotedly, as
+      a little dog follows his master. He had kept his word; he had had her
+      instructed during three years, and then sent her to Paris, in order to
+      give her the last polish, the tournure of the world, however much it had
+      cost him to separate from her, or might embarrass him, with his scanty
+      means, to afford the increase of expense. A year elapsed and Wilhelmine
+      returned a pleasing lady, familiar with the tone of the great world, and
+      at home in its manners and customs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince had kept his word&mdash;that which he had promised her as he
+      took her from her sister&rsquo;s house, to make her a fine, accomplished lady.
+      And when he repeated to her now &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; could she refuse him&mdash;him to
+      whom she owed every thing, whom she loved as her benefactor, her teacher,
+      her friend, and lover? She followed him, and concealed herself for him in
+      the modest little dwelling at Potsdam. For him she lived in solitude,
+      anxiously avoiding to show herself publicly, that the king should never
+      know of her existence, and in his just anger sever the unlawful tie which
+      bound her to the Prince of Prussia. <i>[Footnote: &ldquo;Memoirs of the Countess
+      Lichtenau,&rdquo; p. 80.]</i> Wilhelmine recalled the past seven years of her
+      life, her two children, whom she had borne to the prince, and the joy that
+      filled his heart as he became a father, although his lawful wife had also
+      borne him children. She looked around her small, quiet dwelling, arranged
+      in a modest manner, not as the favorite of the Prince of Prussia, but as
+      an unpretending citizen&rsquo;s wife; she thought how oft with privations, with
+      want even, she had had to combat; how oft the ornaments which the prince
+      had sent her in the rare days of abundance had been taken to the
+      pawnbrokers to provide the necessary wants of herself and children. Her
+      eyes flashed with pride and joy at the thought which she dared to breathe
+      to herself, that not for gold or riches, power or position, had she sold
+      her love, her honor, and her good name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was from pure affinity, from gratitude and affection, that I followed
+      the husband of my heart, although he was a prince,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still the shame of her existence weighed upon her. The king had commanded
+      her to hide her head so securely that no one might know her shame, or the
+      levity of the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go! and let me never see you again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Did not this mean that the king would remove her so far that there would
+      not be a possible chance to appear again before him? Was there not hidden
+      in these words a menace, a warning? Would not the king revenge on her the
+      sad experiences of his youth? Perhaps he would punish her for what Doris
+      Ritter had suffered! Doris Ritter! She, too, had loved a crown prince&mdash;she,
+      too, had dared to raise her eyes to the future King of Prussia, for which
+      she was cruelly punished, though chaste and pure, and hurled down to the
+      abyss of shame for the crime of loving an heir to the throne. Beaten,
+      insulted, and whipped through the streets, and then sent to the house of
+      correction at Spandau! Oh, poor, unhappy Doris Ritter! Will the king atone
+      to you&mdash;will he revenge the friend of his youth on the mistress of
+      his successor? The old King Frederick, weary of life, thinks differently
+      from the young crown prince. He can be as severe as his father, cruel and
+      inexorable as he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doris Ritter! Thy fate haunts me. On the morrow I also may be whipped
+      through the streets, scorned, reviled by the rabble, and then sent to
+      Spandau as a criminal. Did not the king threaten me with the house of
+      correction, with the spinning-wheel, which he would have ready for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the thought of it a terrible anguish, a nameless despair, seized her.
+      She felt that the spinning-wheel hung over her like the sword of Damocles,
+      ready at the least occasion to fall upon her, and bind her to it. She felt
+      that she could not endure such suspense and torture; she must escape; she
+      must rescue herself from the king&rsquo;s anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But whither, whither! I must fly from here, from his immediate proximity,
+      where a motion of his finger is sufficient to seize me, to cause me to
+      disappear before the prince could have any knowledge of it, before he
+      could know of the danger which threatened me. I must away from Potsdam!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince had arranged a little apartment in Berlin for the winter
+      months, which she exchanged for Potsdam in the spring. This seemed to
+      offer her more security for the moment, for she could fly at the least
+      sign of danger, could even hide herself from the prince, if it were
+      necessary to save him and herself. Away to Berlin, then! That was the only
+      thought she was able to seize upon. Away with her children, before
+      misfortune could reach them!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She sprang to the door, tore it open, rushing to the nurse, upon whose
+      knees the baby slept, near whom her little daughter knelt. With trembling
+      hands she took her boy and pressed him to her heart. &ldquo;Louisa, we must
+      leave here immediately; it is urgent necessity!&rdquo; said she, with quivering
+      lip. &ldquo;Do not say a word about it to any one, but hasten; order quickly a
+      wagon, bargain for the places, and say we must set off at once. The wagon
+      must not be driven to the door, but we will meet it at the Berlin Gate. We
+      will go on foot there, and get in. Quick, Louisa, not a word&mdash;it must
+      be!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant did not dare to oppose her mistress, or contradict the orders,
+      but hastened to obey them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all the old king&rsquo;s fault,&rdquo; said Louisa to herself, as she hurried
+      through the street. &ldquo;Yes, the king has ordered mistress to Berlin. He
+      looked so furious, the old bear! His eyes flashed so terribly, one might
+      well fear him, and I thanked Heaven when mamselle sent me home from the
+      park. It is coming to a bad end at last; I should have done better not to
+      have taken the place at all. Oh, if we were only away from here; if I only
+      could find a wagon to take us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thanks to the nurse&rsquo;s fears and endeavors, the wagon was soon found, and
+      scarcely an hour had passed before Wilhelmine Enke, her two children and
+      nurse, were hidden under a plain linen-covered wagon, and on their way to
+      Berlin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The street was unusually animated, as the division of troops which the
+      king had reviewed in Berlin, were marching out of the city to report
+      themselves on the Bavarian frontier. Their first night&rsquo;s quarters were to
+      be in Potsdam, and the last great parade was to take place there on the
+      following morning, before the king commenced his journey. The driver had
+      often to halt at the side of the street to let the troops pass, which with
+      a full band of music, came marching on. At the head of one of the
+      regiments, mounted upon a fiery steed, was a general in brilliant uniform,
+      his breast covered with orders, which glittered in the sun. He was tall
+      and rather corpulent, but appeared to advantage. His carriage was proud
+      and imposing, his face was almost too youthful for a general, and his body
+      too corpulent for the expressive and delicate features. As he passed by
+      the poor, unpretending carriage, where Wilhelmine sat with her children,
+      she heard distinctly his beautiful, sonorous voice, and merry laugh. &ldquo;Oh
+      Heaven, it is he!&mdash;it is he!&rdquo; she murmured, drawing herself farther
+      back into the wagon with her children. Just then, out of an opening in the
+      linen cover, Louisa peeped, whispering, &ldquo;Mamselle, it is the Prince of
+      Prussia!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be quiet&mdash;for mercy&rsquo;s sake be quiet, Louisa, that we may not be
+      remarked!&rdquo; said Wilhelmine, gently. &ldquo;Take the child that he may not
+      scream, for if the prince should hear him he will turn back. He knows the
+      voice of his little son!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he knows the voice of his little son!&rdquo; muttered the nurse, as she
+      laid the child to her breast. &ldquo;The little son must stop here on the
+      street, in a miserable wagon, while his noble father rides past, so
+      splendid and glittering with gold, not knowing that his little boy is so
+      near him. Oh, a real trouble and a real heart-sorrow is this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed it is,&rdquo; said Wilhelmine, in her heart, &ldquo;a real trouble and a real
+      heart-sorrow. How all these men would present arms, and salute my
+      children, if they had been born to a throne instead of obscurity! How they
+      would bow and bend, if I were called Louisa of Hesse-Darmstadt, and the
+      lawful wife of the prince! Did they not also bend and bow before the first
+      wife, Elizabeth von Braunschweig, <i>[Footnote: The first wife of Prince
+      Frederick William of Prussia was the Princess Elizabeth von Braunschweig,
+      the niece of Frederick the Great. The crown prince was scarcely twenty-one
+      years of age when betrothed to her. After four years they were separated,
+      on account of the improper conduct of the princess, who was banished to
+      Stettin. There she lived until her death in 1840, after seventy-one years
+      of imprisonment. Never during these seventy-one years had the Princess
+      &lsquo;Lisbeth&rsquo;, as she was called, dared to leave Stettin. There she was
+      obliged to amuse herself. Her concerts and evening entertainments were
+      celebrated. The second wife of the crown prince of Prussia was Louisa of
+      Hesse-Darmstadt, the mother of Frederick William III. She died in 1805.]</i>
+      although every one knew of her shameful conduct&mdash;knew of her
+      intrigues with lackeys and common soldiers? Do they not now bow before
+      her, although she is banished to Stettin for her infamous conduct, and
+      lives there a prisoner? A fine imprisonment that! The whole town is her
+      prison, and when she appears in public every one stands upon the street to
+      salute the crown princess of Prussia. But when they see me they pass
+      carelessly by, or they look at me with a contemptuous laugh, and fancy
+      themselves miracles of virtue, and free from sin. My only crime is that my
+      father was not a prince, and that I am of low birth. Am I to blame for
+      that&mdash;to blame that the man whom I love, and who loves me, cannot
+      marry me and make me his lawful wife?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho! gee, ho!&rdquo; cried the driver to his horses. &ldquo;Get up!&rdquo; The troops had
+      passed, the highway was now free, and uninterrupted rolled the heavy,
+      creaking wagon into Berlin. Within all was quiet. The two children and
+      nurse were asleep. The driver was half asleep, his head hung shaking
+      about; only now and then he started to give his horses a crack, which the
+      thin, wheezing animals did not heed in the least. Wilhelmine alone slept
+      not; in her soul there was no quiet, no peace. She grumbled at fate, and
+      at mankind. An unspeakable anxiety seized her for the immediate future,
+      and fear of the king&rsquo;s anger. As the sun was setting they reached Berlin,
+      and were entering the town, when the guard, in royal livery, sprang
+      through the gate, calling, in a loud voice, to the wagon, &ldquo;Halt&mdash;halt!
+      Turn out of the way!&rdquo; Then was heard the call of the sentinel, and the
+      roll of the drums. An equipage, drawn by six black steeds, drove past. A
+      pale, young wife, splendidly attired, leaned back in the carriage, and the
+      little flag-bearer, Prince Frederick William, was by her side; on the seat
+      opposite sat the second son, Prince Louis, and the lord steward. In this
+      beautiful equipage drove the Princess of Prussia; at her side, in a
+      miserable linen-covered wagon, crouching far in the corner, sat Wilhelmine
+      Enke, the rival of the princess; near her, her two children, whose
+      existence condemned her, and stamped her life with dishonor. Like a dream
+      the brilliant apparition rushed past Wilhelmine, and it haunted her
+      through the long streets, to the humble home where she sought a temporary
+      refuge. And when finally alone, in her own room, where no one could spy
+      into her face, nor understand her words, there broke forth from her soul a
+      long-repressed wrong. She stood erect; a proud, insolent smile played
+      around her mouth. &ldquo;I am his wife, too; I alone am his beloved wife,&rdquo; said
+      she, with a loud, triumphant voice, &ldquo;and my children are his only
+      truly-beloved children, for they are those of his love. How proudly she
+      drove past me! How beautiful is her pale face, and how interesting her sad
+      smile! She in sunlight, and I in shade! She knows that I am her rival, but
+      she is not mine. No, the Princess of Prussia cannot rival Wilhelmine Enke.
+      I have no fear of her. But the king I have to fear,&rdquo; cried she suddenly,
+      shrinking with terror. In the meeting with the princess she had forgotten
+      him, her anguish, her anxiety for the future. All were forgotten for the
+      moment&mdash;to be recalled with renewed terror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank Heaven,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I have escaped. For the moment I am safe! What
+      will the prince do, when he finds that we have fled from Potsdam? Will he
+      divine where we have gone? Will he come to seek me? If he still loves me&mdash;if
+      I am really the happy rival of his wife and every other court lady&mdash;yes,
+      then he will come. Then he will know where to find his Wilhelmine. But if
+      it is true, what malicious people have repeated to me, with feigned
+      sympathy, that the prince loves another&mdash;that he has withdrawn his
+      love from me, is indifferent and cold&mdash;then he will not seek me; then
+      I shall remain here alone!&mdash;alone, with my children, this long,
+      fearful night! What, then, if I am alone? No, oh, no! I will not believe
+      that I am forsaken. These are wicked thoughts which haunt me&mdash;only
+      the agitation of this dreadful day, which imagination has overwrought.
+      Rise up and be strong! Go to thy children,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;and read in their
+      eyes that he can never leave thee!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Forcing herself to composure, she sought her children; found Louisa
+      humming and singing her little boy to sleep, and her daughter nodding, on
+      a low stool at her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, my child, I will put you to sleep,&rdquo; said the mother, lifting her in
+      her arms. &ldquo;Your mother will make your bed softly. When you sleep and speak
+      with the angels, intercede for us all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With tender care she undressed her and bore her gently in her arms to her
+      bed, and, kneeling before it, breathed a prayer over her sleeping child;
+      then bent over the cradle of her son, blessing and kissing him. &ldquo;Sleep my
+      boy, sleep. I know not that I shall ever see thy beautiful eyes open again&mdash;whether
+      I shall ever again press thee to my heart. Who can tell if they may not
+      come this very night to remove me to prison&mdash;to punish me for you, my
+      children, my beloved children!&mdash;Be calm, be calm! I shall remain here
+      until morning, at least,&rdquo; added she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned to the nurse, who, with anxious face and folded hands, stood at
+      the farthest corner of the room. &ldquo;Go, now, Louisa&mdash;go, and take
+      something to eat. You must be hungry and tired. Buy at the next store what
+      you need; but do not stop to talk with any one or repeat my name. Then
+      return quickly, and take care of the children. Do not trouble yourself
+      about me&mdash;I need nothing more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you must eat something, mamselle; you must have some supper!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine shook her head, refusing, and returned quickly to her own room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. THE OATH OF FIDELITY.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Long after nightfall the nurse heard her mistress rapidly pacing her room,
+      and talking aloud to herself. Soon, however, Sleep spread her soothing
+      wings over Louisa, and she heard no more the rapid steps and loud talking
+      of her mistress, nor the rolling of a carriage which stopped before the
+      door, and the quick, vigorous steps of a man mounting the stairs. But
+      Wilhelmine heard them. Breathless she stood, listening to the approaching
+      footsteps, for she felt that they had to decide her future&mdash;the weal
+      and woe of her children! Was it he, her beloved, the father of her
+      children? or was it the king&rsquo;s bailiff who had followed her, and came to
+      seize her?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nearer they came; the bell was hastily, violently rung. Wilhelmine uttered
+      a cry of delight. She recognized the voice, the commanding manner, and
+      rushed through the anteroom to open the door. The prince encircled her in
+      his arms, pressed her to his beating heart, and, lifting her up, bore her
+      into the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you leave Potsdam, Wilhelmine? Tell me quickly, why did you do
+      it?&rdquo; asked the prince, tenderly kissing her, as he sat her upon the divan
+      at his side. Overcome with her tears, she could not answer. &ldquo;What mean
+      these tears? Has any one dared to wound your feelings or injure you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Frederick, and he who injures me hazards nothing&mdash;for it is the
+      king! I met him in the park at Potsdam this morning. He has crushed me
+      with his scorn and anger. He has threatened me with a fearful punishment&mdash;no
+      less than the house of correction at Spandau! He has told me that the
+      spinning-wheel is in readiness for me if I excite his further contempt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A cry of fury escaped the prince. Springing up, he paced the room with
+      rapid strides. Wilhelmine remained upon the divan, but her tears did not
+      prevent her following the prince with a searching glance&mdash;to read his
+      face, pale with rage. &ldquo;I must bear it,&rdquo; he cried, beating his forehead. &ldquo;I
+      cannot protect those that I love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A ray of joy lighted up Wilhelmine&rsquo;s face as she listened, but it
+      disappeared with the tears which flowed afresh. &ldquo;I am a poor, unfortunate
+      child,&rdquo; she sobbed, &ldquo;whom every one despises, and fears not to injure, who
+      has no one to counsel or protect her, and who is lost if God does not have
+      compassion upon her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince rushed to her, seizing both hands. &ldquo;Wilhelmine, do not drive me
+      mad with sorrow,&rdquo; he cried, trembling with excitement and anger. &ldquo;Is it my
+      fault that I cannot protect you against him? Have I not defended you from
+      all the rest of the world? Have I ever allowed any one to treat you with
+      contempt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never given occasion for it, dearest. I have studiously avoided
+      all men, to escape their contempt and scorn. Shame is hard to bear,
+      fearfully hard. I felt it today, as his beautiful eyes flashed upon me
+      with contempt, as his haughty language crushed me to the earth. This is
+      the yoke, Frederick William, that I and my children must bear to our
+      graves!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Wilhelmine, not as long as we live&mdash;only while he lives! Wait,
+      only wait; let me rise from want and slavery; let the day come which makes
+      me free&mdash;which exalts me: my first act will be to lift the yoke from
+      you and our children, and woe to those&mdash;a thousand times woe to those
+      who would hold it fast! Only be patient, Wilhelmine, submit, and bear with
+      me the hard and distressing present. Tell me, my child, my loved one, why
+      did you leave Potsdam so suddenly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was afraid, Frederick. A kind of madness seized me at the thought of
+      the king&rsquo;s bailiffs carrying me off to Spandau; a nameless anxiety
+      confused my mind, and I only realized that I must escape&mdash;that I must
+      conceal myself. I felt in greater security here than at Potsdam for the
+      night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you fled without leaving me any sign or message to tell me whither
+      you had gone! Oh, Wilhelmine, what if I had not divined your hiding-place,
+      and had awaited at Potsdam in painful anxiety?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I should have fled from here at daybreak, leaving my children, and
+      in some quiet, obscure retreat have concealed myself from every eye&mdash;even
+      your own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you have hidden yourself from me?&rdquo; cried the prince, encircling her
+      in his arms, and pressing her to his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Frederick, when your heart did not prompt you where to find me, then
+      it would have been a proof that you were indifferent to me. When I cannot
+      lean upon your love, then there is no longer any protection or
+      abiding-place for me in the world, and the grave will be my refuge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you see my heart revealed you to me, and I am here,&rdquo; said the prince,
+      smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Heaven be praised, you have come to me,&rdquo; she cried, exultingly,
+      throwing her arms about his neck, and kissing him passionately. &ldquo;You are
+      here; I no longer dread the old king&rsquo;s anger, and his fearful words fall
+      as spent arrows at my feet. You are here, king of my heart; now I have
+      only one thing to dread.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is that, Wilhelmine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She bent close to his ear, and whispered: &ldquo;I fear that you are untrue to
+      me; that there is some ground for truth in those anonymous letters, which
+      declare that you would discard me and my children also, for you love
+      another&mdash;not one other, but many.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jealousy, again jealous!&rdquo; the prince sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no,&rdquo; said she, tenderly, &ldquo;I only repeat what is daily written me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you read it?&rdquo; cried the prince, vehemently. &ldquo;Why do you quaff the
+      poison which wicked, base men offer you? Why do you not throw such letters
+      into the fire, as I do when they slander you to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because you know, Frederick,&rdquo; she answered, proudly and earnestly&mdash;&ldquo;you
+      must know that that which they write against me is slander and falsehood.
+      My life lies open before you; every year, every day, is like an unsullied
+      page, upon which but one name stands inscribed&mdash;Frederick William&mdash;not
+      Prince Frederick William. What does it benefit me that you are a prince?
+      If you were not a prince, I should not be despised, my children would not
+      be nameless, without fortune, and without justice. No, were you not a
+      prince, I should not have felt ashamed and grief-stricken, with downcast
+      eyes, before the lady who drove past in her splendid carriage, while I was
+      humbly seated in a miserable wagon. No, were not my beloved a prince, he
+      could have made me his wife, could have given me his name, and I should
+      to-day be at his side with my children. Then, what benefit is it to me
+      that you are a prince? I love you not that you are one, but
+      notwithstanding it. And if I love you in spite of all this, you must know
+      that my affection is ever-enduring and ever-faithful&mdash;that I can
+      never forget you, never abandon you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do you believe, Wilhelmine, that I could ever abandon or forsake you?
+      Is it not the same with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head, sadly answering: &ldquo;No, Frederick, it is unfortunately
+      not the same. You have loved me, and perhaps you love me still, but with
+      that gentle warmth which does not hinder glowing flames to kindle near it,
+      and with their passionate fire overpower the slight warmth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It may be so for the moment, I grant it,&rdquo; the prince answered,
+      thoughtfully; &ldquo;but the quick, blazing fire soon consumes itself, leaving
+      only a heap of ashes; then one turns to the gentle warmth with inward
+      comfort, and rejoices in its quiet happiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You confess loving another?&rdquo; said Wilhelmine, sorrowfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I do not grant that,&rdquo; the prince cried; &ldquo;but you are a sensible,
+      clever woman, and you know my heart is easily excited. It is only the
+      meteoric light of the ignis fatuus, soon extinguished. Let it dance and
+      flicker, but remember that the only warmth which cheers and brightens my
+      heart is your love and friendship. You are my first and only love, and you
+      will be my last&mdash;that I swear to you, and upon it you can rely. Every
+      thing is uncertain and wavering in life. They have ruined me, lacerated my
+      heart, and there is nothing more in the world which I honor. Only
+      sycophants and hypocrites surround me, who speculate upon my future
+      greatness; or spies, who would make their fortune today, and therefore spy
+      and hang about me, in order to be paid by the reigning king, and who
+      slander me in order to be favorites of his. No one at court loves me, not
+      even my wife. How should she? She is well aware that I married her only at
+      the command of my royal uncle, and she accepted me almost with
+      detestation, for they had related to her the unhappiness of my first
+      marriage, and the happiness of my first love! She has learned the story of
+      my first wife, Elizabeth von Braunschweig, and that of my only love,
+      Wilhelmine Enke! She obeyed, like myself, the stern command of another,
+      and we were married, as all princes and princesses are, and we have had
+      children, as they do. We lead the life of a political marriage, but the
+      heart is unwed. We bow before necessity and duty, and, believe me, those
+      are the only household gods in the families of princes. Happy the man who,
+      besides these stern divinities, possesses a little secret temple, in which
+      he can erect an altar to true love and friendship, and where he can enjoy
+      a hidden happiness. This I owe to you, Wilhelmine; you are the only one in
+      whom I have confidence, for you have proved to me that you love me without
+      self-interest and without ambition. You have said it, and it is true, you
+      love me, notwithstanding I am a prince. I confess to you, there are many
+      lovely women of the court who are your rivals, and who would try to
+      separate us in order to attract me to themselves. They are beautiful and
+      seductive, and I am young and passionate; and if these lovely women have
+      no respect for my dignity as a married man, how then should I have it, who
+      married for duty, not for love? But there is one whom I respect for
+      disinterestedness and fidelity! Do you not know who alone is disinterested
+      and faithful?&mdash;who has never seen in me the prince, the future king&mdash;only
+      the beloved one, the man&mdash;one who has never wavered, never counted
+      the cost?&mdash;that you are, Wilhelmine Enke, therefore we are
+      inseparable, and you have not to fear that I can ever forsake you, even if
+      I am sometimes entangled in the magic nets of other beautiful women. The
+      chains which bind us together cannot be torn asunder, for a wonderful
+      secret power has consecrated them with the magic of true love&mdash;of
+      heart-felt friendship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still they are chains, dearest,&rdquo; sighed Wilhelmine. &ldquo;You have named them
+      thus! The chains will at last oppress you, and you will forget the magic
+      power which binds you, and will be free. No holy bond, no oath, no
+      marriage tie&mdash;nothing but your love binds you to me. I rejoice in it,
+      and so long as you do not forsake me, I am conscious that it is your own
+      free choice and not force which retains you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will give you an outward sign of our bond of union,&rdquo; cried the prince.
+      &ldquo;I will do it today, as a twofold danger hangs over us&mdash;the king
+      menaces you, and war menaces me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it then true, do you go with the king to the field?&rdquo; groaned
+      Wilhelmine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you wish me to remain?&rdquo; cried the prince, his eyes flashing. &ldquo;Shall I
+      here seek pleasure, with effeminate good nature, while the king, in spite
+      of his age, exposes himself to all the fatigue of a campaign and the
+      danger of battle? This war of the Bavarian succession is unfortunate, and
+      no one knows whether the German empire will derive any important advantage
+      from our sustaining by force of arms a little duchy. It is a question
+      whether it would not be better to abolish the little principalities, in
+      order to strengthen the greater German powers. The king will support
+      Bavaria, because he envies Austria its possession, and, as he has decided
+      upon war, it becomes his crown prince to yield to his decision without
+      murmuring. Therefore, Wilhelmine, I will today witness to you the oath of
+      fidelity. If God calls me to Him, if I fall in battle, this oath will be
+      your legacy. I have nothing else to leave you, thanks to the parsimony of
+      my noble uncle. I am a very poor crown prince, with many debts and little
+      money, and not in a condition to reward your love and fidelity otherwise
+      than with promises and hopes, and letters of credit for the future. Such a
+      bill of exchange I will write for you&mdash;a legacy for my dear
+      Wilhelmine. Give me pen and paper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine hastened to her writing table and brought him paper with
+      writing materials. &ldquo;There, my Frederick,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;there is every thing
+      necessary&mdash;only the ink, I fear, may be dried.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince shook his head, smiling. &ldquo;Such a lover&rsquo;s oath as I will
+      transcribe for you can be written with no common ink. See, here is my
+      ink!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince had suddenly made a slight incision in his arm, and, as the
+      blood gushed out, he dipped his pen in it, and wrote; then handed it to
+      Wilhelmine, saying: &ldquo;Read it here, in the presence of God and ourselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine pressed it to her lips, and read, with a solemn voice: &ldquo;&lsquo;By my
+      word of honor as a prince, I will never forsake you, and only death shall
+      separate you from me.&mdash;Prince Frederick William of Prussia.&rsquo;&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      &ldquo;Memoires of the Countess Lichtenau.&rdquo; p. 120.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By my word of honor as a prince, I will never forsake you, and only death
+      shall separate me from you,&rdquo; repeated the prince, as he bent over
+      Wilhelmine, lifting her in his arms and placing her upon his knee. &ldquo;Take
+      the paper and guard it carefully,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;When I die, and you have
+      closed my eyes, as I trust you will, give this paper to my son and
+      successor, for it is my legacy to you, and I hope my son will honor it and
+      recognize in you the wife of my heart, and care for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! speak not of dying, Frederick,&rdquo; cried Wilhelmine, embracing him
+      tenderly; &ldquo;may they condemn me, and imprison me as a criminal, when you
+      are no more! What matters it to me what befalls me, when I no longer
+      possess you, my beloved one, my master? Not on that account will I
+      preserve the precious paper, but for the love which it has given me, and
+      of which it will one day be a proof to my children. This paper is my
+      justification and my excuse, my certificate and my declaration of honor. I
+      thank you for it, for it is the most beautiful present that I have ever
+      received.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But will you make me no return, Wilhelmine? Will you not swear to me, as
+      I have sworn to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took the knife from the table without answering, and pointing it to
+      her left arm&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, not there!&rdquo; cried the prince, as he sought to stay her hand. &ldquo;Do not
+      injure your beautiful arm, it would be a sacrilege.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine freed herself from him, as he sought to hold her fast, and in
+      the mutual struggle the knife sank deep into her left hand, the blood
+      gushing out. <i>[Footnote: The scar of this wound remained her whole life,
+      as Wilhelmine relates in her memoirs.&mdash;See &ldquo;Memoires of the Countess
+      Lichtenau.&rdquo;]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, what have you done?&rdquo; cried the prince, terrified; &ldquo;You are wounded!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He seized her hand and drew the knife from the wound, screaming with
+      terror as a clear stream of blood flowed over his own. &ldquo;A physician! Send
+      quickly for a physician,&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;Where are my servants?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine closed his lips at this instant with a kiss, and forced herself
+      to smile in spite of the pain which the wound caused her. &ldquo;Dearest, it is
+      nothing,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I have only prepared a great inkstand&mdash;let me
+      write!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She dipped her pen in the blood, which continued to flow, and wrote
+      quickly a few lines, handing them to the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read aloud what you have written. I will hear from your own mouth your
+      oath. You shall write it upon my heart with your lips.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine read: &ldquo;By my love, by the heads of my two children, I swear
+      that I will never forsake you&mdash;that I will be faithful to you unto
+      death, and will never separate myself from you; that my friendship and
+      love will endure beyond the grave; that I will ever be contented and happy
+      so long as I may call myself your Wilhelmine Enke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I accept your oath, dearest,&rdquo; said the prince, pressing her to his heart.
+      &ldquo;This paper is one of my choicest jewels, and I will never separate myself
+      from it. We have now sealed our love and fidelity with our blood, and I
+      hope that you will never doubt me again. Remember this hour!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; she earnestly promised, &ldquo;and I swear to you never to torment and
+      torture you again with my jealousy. I shall always know, and shall hold
+      fast to it, that you will return to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A violent knocking on the house door interrupted the stillness of the
+      night. A voice in loud, commanding tones called to the night-watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here I am!&rdquo; answered the porter. &ldquo;Who calls me? And what is the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Open the door,&rdquo; commanded the voice again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is our house,&rdquo; whispered Wilhelmine, who had softly opened the window.
+      &ldquo;It is so dark, I can only see a black shadow before the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you belong to the house?&rdquo; asked the night-watch. &ldquo;I dare let no one in
+      who does not belong there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lift up your lantern, and look at my livery. It is at the king&rsquo;s order!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine withdrew from the window, and hastened to the prince, who had
+      retired to the back part of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is Kretzschmar, the king&rsquo;s footman and spy,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Hide
+      yourself, that he does not discover you. Go there to the children.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Wilhelmine, I will remain here. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine pressed her hand upon his mouth, and forced him into the
+      side-room, bolting the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I will meet my fate with courage; whatever may come, it
+      shall find me firm and composed. My children are safe, for their father is
+      with them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took the light, and hastened into the anteroom, which was resounding
+      with the loud ringing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is there?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Who rings so late at night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the name of the king, open!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine shoved back the bolt, opening the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and tell me who you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think you recognize me,&rdquo; said Kretzschmar, with an impudent smile. &ldquo;You
+      have often seen me at Potsdam in company with the king. I saw you this
+      morning as the king did you the honor to speak with you, and I believe did
+      not compliment you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did his majesty send you here to say this to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not exactly that,&rdquo; answered he, smiling; &ldquo;but, as you asked me, I was
+      obliged to answer. I have come here with all speed as courier from
+      Potsdam. I hope you will at least give me a good trinkgeld. I was
+      commanded to deliver into your own hands this paper, for which I must have
+      a receipt.&rdquo; He drew from his breast pocket a large sealed document, which
+      he handed to Wilhelmine. &ldquo;Here is the receipt all ready, with the pencil;
+      you have only to sign your name, and the business is finished.&rdquo; He
+      stretched himself with an air of the greatest ease upon the cane chair,
+      near the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine colored with anger at the free conduct of the royal footman,
+      and hastened to sign the receipt to rid herself of the messenger, and to
+      read the letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What will you give me for trinkgeld, Mamselle Enke?&rdquo; asked the footman,
+      as she gave him the receipt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your own rudeness and insult,&rdquo; answered Wilhelmine proudly, as she
+      turned, without saluting him, to the sitting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kretzschmar laughed aloud. &ldquo;She will play the great and proud lady,&rdquo; said
+      he. &ldquo;She will get over that when in prison. The letter is without doubt an
+      order of arrest, for when the king flashes and thunders as he did this
+      morning, he usually strikes. I hope it will agree with you.&rdquo; He slowly
+      left the anteroom, and descended the stairs to mount his horse, which he
+      had bound to a tree.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine hastened in the mean time to the prince. &ldquo;Here is the letter
+      addressed to me,&rdquo; said she, handing him the sealed envelope. &ldquo;I beg you to
+      open it; courage fails me, everything trembles and swims before my eyes.
+      Read it aloud&mdash;I will receive my sentence from your lips.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince exclaimed, breaking the seal: &ldquo;It is the handwriting of the
+      secret cabinet secretary, Menken, and the message comes immediately from
+      the king&rsquo;s cabinet. Now, Wilhelmine, do not tremble; lean your head upon
+      me, and let us read.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;In the name of his majesty, Wilhelmine Enke is commanded, under penalty
+      of severe punishment, not to leave her room or her dwelling, until the
+      king shall permit her, and send some one to take her and all that belongs
+      to her to her place of destination. She shall receive this order with
+      patience and humility, and consider her apartment as a prison, which she
+      shall not leave under severe penalty, nor allow any one to enter it.
+      Whoever may be with her at the time of receiving the order, who do not
+      belong there, shall speedily absent themselves, and if the same ride or
+      drive to Potsdam, they shall immediately take a message to his royal
+      highness the Prince of Prussia, and announce to him that his majesty
+      expects him at Sans-Souci at ten o&rsquo;clock tomorrow morning. The Minister
+      von Herzberg will be in waiting to confer with the prince. The above is
+      communicated to Wilhelmine Enke for her strict observance, and she will
+      act accordingly.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A long silence followed the reading of this letter. Both looked down,
+      thoughtfully recalling the contents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A prisoner,&rdquo; murmured Wilhelmine, &ldquo;a prisoner in my own house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And for me the peremptory command to leave immediately for Potsdam, in
+      order to be at Sans-Souci early in the morning. What can the king mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will announce to you my imprisonment, my exile,&rdquo; sighed Wilhelmine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The crown prince shook his head. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I do not believe it. If
+      the king would send you to prison, he would not make such preparation; he
+      would not commence with the house arrest, as if you were an officer, who
+      had been guilty of some slight insubordination, but he would act with
+      decision, as is his wont. He would at once have sent you to Spandau or
+      some other prison, and left it to me to have taken further steps. No&mdash;the
+      more I think it over, the more evident it is to me that the king is not
+      really angry; he will only torment us a little, as it pleases his teasing
+      spirit. The chief thing now is to obey, and give him no further occasion
+      for anger. You must be very careful not to leave your apartment, or to
+      allow any one to enter it. I shall start without delay for Potsdam. There
+      are spies posted as well for you as myself; our steps are watched, and an
+      exact account of them given. I must away quickly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Must you leave me a prisoner? Oh, how hard and cruel life is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is, indeed, Wilhelmine. But I must also humbly submit and obey.
+      Is not life hard for me, and yet I am crown prince, the heir to the
+      throne! I shall be reprimanded and scolded like a footman. I must obey as
+      a slave, and am not permitted to act according to my will. I am only a
+      mere peg in the great machine which he directs, and the&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! for mercy&rsquo;s sake be quiet! What if some one should hear you? You
+      know not if the spies may not be at the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True,&rdquo; said the prince, bitterly. &ldquo;I do not know! The nurse even, who
+      suckles our child, may be a paid spy. The owner of this house may be in
+      the king&rsquo;s service, and creep to the door to listen. Therefore it is
+      necessary, above all things, that we act according to the king&rsquo;s commands.
+      Farewell, Wilhelmine, I must set off at once. Kretzschmar is no doubt at
+      the corner of the street to see whether I, as an obedient servant of his
+      master, leave here. If I do it, he will take the news to Sans-Souci, and
+      perhaps the king will be contented. Farewell, I go at once to the palace,
+      to start from there for Potsdam.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Farewell, my beloved one! May God in heaven and the king upon earth be
+      merciful to us! I will force myself to composure and humility. What I
+      suffer is for you! This shall be my consolation. If we never meet again,
+      Frederick William, I know you will not forget how much I have loved you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. THE PARADE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Since early morning a gay, warlike life had reigned at Potsdam and the
+      neighborhood of Sans-Souci. From every side splendid regiments approached,
+      with proud and stately bearing, in glittering uniforms, to take in perfect
+      order the places assigned to them. With flying banners, drums beating, and
+      shrill blasts of trumpets, they came marching on to the great parade&mdash;the
+      last, for the king was about to leave for the field. Thousands of
+      spectators poured forth, notwithstanding the early hour, from Potsdam; and
+      from Berlin even they came in crowds, to take a last look of the soldiers&mdash;of
+      their king, who was still the hero at sixty-nine&mdash;the &ldquo;Alto Fritz,&rdquo;
+       whom they adored&mdash;though they felt the rigor of his government. It
+      was a magnificent spectacle, indeed&mdash;this immense square, filled with
+      regiments, their helmets, swords, and gold embroideries glittering in the
+      May sun. Officers, mounted on richly caparisoned steeds, drew up in the
+      centre, or galloped along the front of the lines, censuring with a
+      thundering invective any deviation or irregularity. In the rear of the
+      troops stood the equipages of the distinguished spectators on the one
+      side, while on the other the people in compact masses swayed to and fro,
+      gayly passing judgment upon the different regiments and their generals.
+      The people&mdash;that means all those who were not rich enough to have a
+      carriage, or sufficiently distinguished to claim a place upon the tribune
+      reserved for noble ladies and gentlemen&mdash;here they stood, the
+      educated and uneducated, shoemaker and tailor, savant and artist&mdash;a
+      motley mixture! Two gentlemen of the high citizen class apparently were
+      among the crowd. They were dressed in the favorite style, which, since the
+      &ldquo;Sorrows of Werther&rdquo; had appeared, was the fashion&mdash;tight-fitting
+      boots, reaching to the knee, with yellow tops; white breeches, over which
+      fell the long-bodied green vest; a gray frock with long pointed tails and
+      large metal buttons, well-powdered cue, tied with little ribbons,
+      surmounted with a low, wide-brimmed hat. Only one of the gentlemen wore
+      the gray frock, according to the faultless Werther costume, a young man of
+      scarcely thirty years, of fine figure, and proud bearing; a face
+      expressive and sympathetic, reminding one of the glorious portraits of men
+      which antiquity has bequeathed to us. It seemed like the head of a god
+      descended to earth, noble in every feature, full of grace and beauty; the
+      slightly Roman nose well marked yet delicate; the broad, thoughtful brow;
+      the cheeks flushed with the hue of youth and power; the well-defined chin
+      and red lips, expressive of goodness, benevolence, roguery, and
+      haughtiness; large, expressive eyes, flashing with the fire which the gods
+      had enkindled. His companion was perhaps eight years younger, less
+      well-proportioned, still of graceful appearance, in his youthful
+      freshness, with frank, cheerful mien, clever, good-natured, sparkling
+      eyes, and red, pouting lips, which never liked to cease chatting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See, Wolff! I beg,&rdquo; said the young man, &ldquo;see that old waddling duck,
+      Mollendorf. I know the old fellow, he is from Gotha; he imagines himself
+      of the greatest importance, and thinks Prussia begets fame and honor from
+      his grace. He trumpets forth his own glories at a dinner, and abuses his
+      king. He makes Frederick the Great an insignificant little being, that he
+      may look over him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unimportant men always do that,&rdquo; answered the other. &ldquo;They would make
+      great men small, and think by placing themselves on high pedestals they
+      become great. The clown striding through the crowd on his stilts may even
+      look over an emperor. But fortunately there comes a time when the dear
+      clown must come down from his stilts, and then it is clear to others, if
+      not to himself, what little, earth-born snips the men of yesterday are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only look, Wolff, there is just such a moment coming to that stiltsman
+      Mollendorf. How the great man stoops, and how small he looks on his gray
+      horse, for a greater springs past! Look at him well, Wolff&mdash;we shall
+      dine with him, and he does not like to be stared at in the face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that, then, Prince Henry passing?&rdquo; asked Wolff, with animation; &ldquo;That
+      little general, who just galloped into the circle with his suite, is that
+      the king&rsquo;s brother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that is just his misfortune that he is the king&rsquo;s brother,&rdquo; answered
+      a deep, sonorous voice behind them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Turning, they beheld a young, elegantly dressed man, in the light gray
+      frock and gold-bordered, three-cornered hat, and a Spanish cane, with an
+      ivory handle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you remark, sir?&rdquo; asked Herr Wolff; his great, brown eyes
+      flashing over the pale, intellectual face of the other, so that he was
+      quite confused, yet, as if enchanted, could not turn away. &ldquo;What did you
+      remark, sir?&rdquo; asked again Herr Wolff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; stammered the other, &ldquo;that I said it was the misfortune of
+      the prince that he was the brother only, as he was worthy of being
+      mentioned for himself; but I beg, sir, be a little indulgent, and do not
+      pry into my very soul with your godlike eyes. It will craze me, and I
+      shall run through the streets of Berlin, crying that the Apollo-Belvedere
+      has arrived at Potsdam, and invite all the poets and authors to come and
+      worship him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you are right,&rdquo; cried the youngest of the two gentlemen,
+      laughing. &ldquo;I believe myself it is the Apollo-Belvedere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be still, my dear sir, hush, and preserve our incognito,&rdquo; interrupted his
+      companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I cannot help it, Wolff. Am I to blame that this clever fellow sees
+      through your mask, and discovers the divine spark which hides itself under
+      a gray Werther costume?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I pray, sir, grant my request, and respect our incognito,&rdquo; begged the
+      other, gently but firmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, you shall have your way,&rdquo; laughed the other, good-naturedly,
+      and turning to the pale young man, who still kept his eyes fixed on Herr
+      Wolff in a sort of ecstacy, he said: &ldquo;Let the authors and poets stay in
+      Berlin; we will persuade the disguised Apollo to meet them there, and read
+      them a lecture, for among the Berlin poets and critics there are wicked
+      heretics, who, if the Deity Himself wrote tragedies and verses, would find
+      some fault to object to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray tell me, sir, do you think Prince Henry a great man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did not the king call him so in his &lsquo;History of the Seven Years&rsquo; War?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+       said the stranger. &ldquo;Did he not publicly, in the presence of all his
+      generals, say, &lsquo;that Prince Henry was the only general who had not made a
+      mistake during the whole war?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you believe the king will say that of the prince just riding in with
+      his suite, after the present war?&rdquo; asked the young man, with earnestness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean the Prince of Prussia,&rdquo; answered the other, shaking his head.
+      &ldquo;There are men who call this prince the &lsquo;hope of Prussia,&rsquo; and regard him
+      as a new Aurora in the clouded sky.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, sir, do you regard him so?&rdquo; cried Herr Wolff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean that the Prince of Prussia will usher in a brighter day for
+      Germany?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered the other. &ldquo;I believe that day expires with Frederick the
+      Great, and that a long night of darkness will succeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because it is the course of nature that darkness succeeds light. Look at
+      the prince, gentlemen&mdash;the divine light of genius is not stamped upon
+      his brow, as formerly, and care will be taken that it is soon extinguished
+      altogether.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who will take care?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Those who are the enemies of light, civilization, and freedom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are they?&rdquo; asked Herr Wolff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The other smiled, and answered: &ldquo;Sir, so far as I, in all humility, call
+      myself a scholar, I also owe to the god Apollo obedience, and must answer
+      him, though it may endanger me. I answer, then, the enemies of light and
+      civilization are the disguised Jesuits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it is easy to perceive that you do not belong to them, or you would
+      not thus characterize them, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A mighty flourish of drums, and shrill blasts of horns and trumpets,
+      drowned the youth&rsquo;s words, and made all further conversation impossible.
+      The king, followed by a brilliant suite, had just arrived at the parade.
+      The regiments greeted their sovereign with loud blasts of trumpets, and
+      the people shouted their farewell. Frederick lifted lightly his hat, and
+      rode along the ranks of the well-ordered troops. He listened to the shouts
+      with calm, composed manner; the Jupiter-flashes from his great eyes seemed
+      to be spent forever. Mounted upon Caesar, his favorite horse, he looked
+      today more bent, his back more bowed with the burden of years; and it was
+      plainly visible that the hand which held the staff crosswise over the
+      horse&rsquo;s neck, holding at the same time the bridle, trembled from very
+      weakness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is Frederick,&rdquo; said Herr Wolff to himself. &ldquo;That is the hero before
+      whom Europe has trembled; the daring prince who caused the sun to rise
+      upon his country, and awaken the spirits to cheerful life. Oh, how
+      lamentable; how much to be regretted, that a hero, too, can grow feeble
+      and old! Oh, cruel fate, that the noblest spirits embodied in this fragile
+      humanity, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly he ceased, and looked at the king amazed and with admiration. The
+      old man had become the hero again. The bowed form was erect, the face
+      beamed with energy and conscious power, the eyes flashed with bold daring,
+      strong and sonorous was the voice. The king had turned to his generals,
+      who were drawn up around him in a large circle, saying: &ldquo;Gentlemen, I come
+      to take leave of you. We shall meet again upon the battle-field, where
+      laurels bloom for the brave. I hope that we may all return, crowned with
+      fresh laurels. Tell my soldiers that I count upon them&mdash;that I know
+      they will prove the glory of the Prussian troops anew, and that on the day
+      of battle they will see me at their head.&mdash;Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Long live the king!&rdquo; cried the generals and staff officers, in one voice.
+      The people and the soldiers joined the shout, the ladies waved their
+      handkerchiefs. Herr Wolff and his companions tore off their hats with
+      enthusiasm, and swung them high in the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The great eyes of the king, who passed at this moment, rested upon Herr
+      Wolff. &ldquo;My heart quaked as if I were the pillar of Memnon, and had been
+      touched by the sun&rsquo;s rays,&rdquo; sighed he, as he followed the king with his
+      fiery glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The ceremony is now finished,&rdquo; said the young man near him, &ldquo;and we must
+      leave, in order to be punctual to dinner at Prince Henry&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish the king had remained an hour longer,&rdquo; sighed Herr Wolff again.
+      &ldquo;As I looked at him, it seemed as if I were listening to a song from
+      Homer, and all my faculties were in unison in delight and enthusiasm.
+      Happy those who dare approach him, and remain near him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, according to your opinion, his servants must be very fortunate,&rdquo;
+       said the stranger, &ldquo;and yet they say that he is not very kind to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because the servant is a little man,&rdquo; cried Herr Wolff, &ldquo;and every one
+      looks little to his belittling eyes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, there are many others no more elevated than servants in the king&rsquo;s
+      surroundings,&rdquo; said the other. The youth reminded him that they must
+      leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only wait a moment, friend,&rdquo; begged Herr Wolff, as he turned to the
+      stranger, saying, &ldquo;I would like to continue our conversation of today. You
+      live in Berlin. I will find you out if you will give me your name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I pray you to visit me; my name is Moritz. I live in Kloster Strasse,
+      near the gray convent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your name is Moritz?&rdquo;, asked Herr Wolff, earnestly. &ldquo;Then you are the
+      author of the &lsquo;Journey to England?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, the same, and my highest encomium is, that the work is not unknown
+      to you, or the name of the author.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All Germany knows it, and do you think I could possibly remain a stranger
+      to it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But your name, sir,&rdquo; said the stranger, with anxious curiosity. &ldquo;Will you
+      not give me your name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will tell you when we are in your own room,&rdquo; said Herr Wolff, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The air is yet enchanted and intoxicated with the breath of the Great
+      Frederick; it should not be desecrated with another name.&mdash;Farewell,
+      we will meet in Berlin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Not far from these gentlemen stood two others, wrapped in long military
+      cloaks, both of striking and foreign appearance; the one, of slight
+      delicate figure, of dark complexion, noble and handsome face, must be an
+      Italian, as his very black hair and eyes betrayed; the other, tall,
+      broad-shouldered, of Herculean stature, belonged to North Germany, as the
+      blond hair, light blue eyes, and features indicated. A pleasing smile
+      played around his thick, curled lips, and only when he glanced at his
+      companion did it die away, and change to one of respectful devotion. At
+      this instant the king passed. The Italian pressed the arm of his
+      companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The arch fiend himself,&rdquo; he murmured softly, &ldquo;the demon of unbelief, to
+      whom nothing is sacred, and nothing intimidates. The contemptuously
+      smiling spirit of negation, which is called enlightenment, and is but
+      darkness, to whom belief is superstition, and enlightening only deception.
+      Woe to him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Woe to him!&rdquo; repeated the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king was followed by his brilliant and select staff in motley
+      confusion. First, Prince Henry, and then the Prince of Prussia. As the
+      latter passed the two gentlemen, the Italian pressed the arm of his
+      companion still harder. &ldquo;Look at him attentively, my son,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that
+      is our future and our hope in this country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Hercules turned hastily, with a look of astonishment, to the Italian.
+      &ldquo;The Prince of Prussia?&rdquo; asked he, with amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Italian nodded. &ldquo;Do you doubt it?&rdquo; he added, reproachfully. &ldquo;Would you
+      doubt your lord and master, because he reveals to you what you cannot
+      seize with your clouded spirit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, master, I am only surprised that you hope for good from this
+      lost-in-sin successor to the throne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you are poor, human children,&rdquo; sighed the Italian, compassionately
+      smiling; &ldquo;prompt to judge, mistaking light for darkness, and darkness for
+      light. I have already remarked that to the celebrated and austere Minister
+      Sully, as he complained to me of the levity and immorality of the French
+      king, Henry IV. I told him that austere morals and moral laws suffered
+      exceptions, and that those through whom the welfare of humanity should be
+      furthered, had to transfer their heavenly bliss of love to the earthly
+      sphere. Sully would contest the question with me, but I defeated him,
+      while I repeated to him what the beautiful and unhappy Queen of Scotland,
+      Mary Stuart, once said to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mary Stuart!&rdquo; cried the other, vehemently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Mary Stuart,&rdquo; answered the Italian, earnestly. &ldquo;Come, my son, let us
+      go. We have seen what we wished to see, and that is sufficient. Give me
+      thy arm, and let us depart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They departed arm in arm, withdrawing from the crowd, and taking the broad
+      walk which crossed to the park.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were about to relate to me the answer which Mary Stuart gave to you,
+      sir,&rdquo; said the Hercules, timidly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True; I will now relate it to you,&rdquo; he answered, with sadness. &ldquo;It was in
+      Edinburgh I had surprised Mary (as I was admitted without ceremony), in
+      her boudoir, as the handsome Rizzio sat at her feet, and sang love-songs
+      to her. She was resting upon a gold-embroidered divan, and her figure
+      appeared to great advantage in the heavenly blue, silver-embroidered gauze
+      robe, which covered her beautiful limbs like a cloud. In her hair sparkled
+      two diamonds, like two stars fallen from heaven, and more glowing still
+      were her eyes, which tenderly rested upon Rizzio. Leaning upon her elbow,
+      she inclined toward Rizzio, who, lute in hand, was looking up to her with
+      a countenance expressive of the deepest love. It was a glorious picture,
+      this young and charming couple, in their bliss of love; and never, in the
+      course of this century, have I forgotten this exquisite picture&mdash;never
+      have its bright tints faded from my memory. How often have I begged my
+      friend, Antonio Vandyck, to make this picture eternal, with his immortal
+      pencil. He promised to do it, but at the moment he was occupied with the
+      portraits of Charles I. and his family&mdash;the grandson of Queen Mary.
+      Later, as I was not with him, unfortunately, to save him, death seized him
+      before he had fulfilled his promise. But her image is stamped upon my
+      heart, and I see her now, as I saw her then, the beautiful queen, with the
+      handsome singer at her feet. I had entered unawares, and stood a few
+      moments at the door before they remarked me. As I approached, Rizzio
+      suddenly ceased in the midst of a tender passage, and sprang to his feet.
+      Mary signed to him, blushing, to withdraw. He glided noiselessly out, his
+      lute under his arm, and I remained alone with the queen. I dared to chide
+      her, gently, for her love affair with the handsome singer, and, above all,
+      to exhort her to fidelity to her husband. Whereupon Mary answered me, with
+      her accustomed smiling manner, &lsquo;There is but one fidelity which one must
+      recognize, and that is to the god of gods&mdash;Love! Where he is not, I
+      will not be. The god Hymen is a tedious, pedantic fellow, who burns to
+      ashes all the fresh young love of the heart, and all the enthusiasm of the
+      soul, with his intolerable tallow torch, for Love stands not at his side.
+      I am faithful to the god Amor, therefore I can never be faithful to the
+      god Hymen, as it would be unfaithful to Love!&rsquo; That was the response of
+      the beautiful Queen Mary. I could not contest the question, so I only
+      looked at her and smiled. Suddenly, I felt a dagger, as it were, thrust at
+      my heart, my spiritual eyes were opened, the lovely woman on the divan was
+      fearfully changed. Instead of the gauze robe, sparkling with silver, a
+      black cloth dress covered her emaciated limbs; instead of brilliants,
+      sparkling in her hair, a mourning veil covered her whitened locks. The
+      beauty and roundness of her neck had disappeared, and I saw around it a
+      broad dark-red stripe. Her head moved, and fell at my feet dissevered. I
+      saw it all, as distinctly as if it really happened, and seized with
+      unspeakable pity I prostrated myself at her feet (who was unknowing of my
+      vision), and besought her with all the anxiety and tenderness of
+      friendship to leave Scotland, to fly from England, as there the
+      death-tribunal awaited her. But Mary Stuart only laughed at my warning,
+      and called me a melancholy fool, whom jealousy made prophetic. The more I
+      begged and implored, the more wanton and gay the poor woman became. Then,
+      as I saw all persuasion was vain, that no one could save her from her
+      dreadful fate, I took a solemn oath that I would be at her side at the
+      hour of her peril, and accompany her to the scaffold. Mary laughed aloud,
+      and, with that mocking gayety so peculiarly her own, she accepted the
+      oath, and reached me her white hand, sparkling with diamonds, to seal the
+      vow with a kiss. I faithfully kept it. I had but just arrived in Rome when
+      I received the account of her imprisonment. I presented myself immediately
+      to the pope, the great Sixtus V., who then occupied the chair of St.
+      Peter. Fortunately, he was my friend, and I had formerly been useful to
+      him, in assisting him to carry out his great and liberal ideas for the
+      welfare of humanity. As a return, I prayed the Holy Father to give me a
+      consecrated hostie for the unhappy Queen Mary Stuart, and the permission
+      to carry it to her in her prison. The Holy Father was incredulous of my
+      sad presentiments, as Mary Stuart herself had been, but he granted me the
+      request. I quitted Rome, and travelled with relays day and night. Reaching
+      Boulogne, a Dover packet-boat had just raised anchor; I succeeded in
+      boarding her, and arrived in London the next evening. The day following,
+      the execution of the queen took place at Fotheringay. I was with her in
+      her last hours, and from my hand she received the consecrated water of
+      Pope Sixtus V. I had kept my oath. I accompanied her to the scaffold, and
+      her head rolled at my feet, as I had seen it in my vision at Edinburgh. It
+      was the 18th of April, 1587, and it seems to me as but yesterday. To the
+      intuitive, seeing spirit, time and space disappear; eternity and
+      immortality are to it omnipresent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Given up to his souvenirs and visions, the Italian appeared not to know
+      where he wandered, and turned unintentionally to the retired, lonely
+      places in the park. His companion heeded not the way either, occupied with
+      the strange account of the Italian. A dreadful feeling of awe and horror
+      took possession of his soul, and, with devoted respect, he hung upon the
+      words which fell from the lips of his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was in the year 1587,&rdquo; said he, as the Italian ceased; &ldquo;almost two
+      hundred years since, and you were present?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Italian replied: &ldquo;I was present. I have witnessed so many dreadful
+      scenes, and been present at so many executions, that this sad spectacle
+      was not an unusual one to me, and would not have remained fixed in my
+      memory had I not loved, devotedly and fervently, the beautiful Queen Mary
+      Stuart. For those who live in eternity, all horrors have ceased; time
+      rushes past in centuries, which seem to them but a day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Teach me so to live, master; I thirst for knowledge,&rdquo; cried his
+      companion, fervently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it, my son; I penetrate thy soul, and I know that thou thirstest.
+      Therefore I am here to quench thy thirst, and feed thy hungry heart.&rdquo; He
+      remained standing upon the grass-plot, which he had reached by lonely
+      paths, and which was encircled by trees and bushes. Not a sound
+      interrupted the peaceful morning stillness of the place, except the
+      distant music of the departing regiments dying away on the air. &ldquo;I will
+      teach thee to live in eternity!&rdquo; resumed the Italian, solemnly. &ldquo;My
+      predecessor the apostle, George Schrepfer, has initiated thee in temporal
+      life, and the knowledge of the present. By the pistol-shot, which
+      disclosed to him the invisible world, and removed him from our earthly
+      eyes, has he to thee, his most faithful and believing disciple, given the
+      great doctrine of the decay of all things earthly, and prepared thee for
+      the doctrine of the imperishableness of the celestial. The original of
+      humanity sends me, to make known to thee this holy doctrine. When I met
+      thee in Dresden, at the side of the Countess Dorothea von Medem, thee,
+      whom I had never seen, I recognized by the blue flame which trembled above
+      thy head, and which was nothing else than the soul of thy teacher,
+      Schrepfer, wrestling in anguish, which has remained with thee, and hopes
+      for delivery from thee. I greeted thee, therefore, not as a stranger but
+      as a friend. No one called thy name, and yet it was known to me. I took
+      thee by the hand, greeting thee. Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder, be
+      welcome. The blue flame which glows upon thy brow, guides me to thee, and
+      the pistol-shot under the oaks centuries old, at Rosenthal, near Leipsic,
+      was the summons which my spirit received among the pyramids of Egypt, and
+      which recalled me to Europe, to my own, and thou art one of them.&ldquo;<i>[Footnote:
+      George Schrepfer, the founder of the Secret Free Mason Lodge (at the same
+      time proprietor of a restaurant and a conjuror), invited his intimate
+      disciples and believers in the year 1774, to whom Bischofswerder belonged,
+      to meet him at Rosenthal, near Leipsic. He assembled them around him,
+      beneath some old oaks, to take leave of them, as now he would render
+      himself in the invisible realm, whence, as a spirit, he would distribute
+      to some of his disciples gold, to others wisdom. He then commanded them to
+      conceal their faces and pray. The praying ones suddenly heard a loud
+      report, and, as they looked up Schrepfer fell dead. He had shot himself
+      with a pistol.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And as thou spakest, oh master, I recognized thee, and I called&mdash;&rsquo; 
+      Thou art here, who hast been announced to me. Thou art the master, and my
+      master Schrepfer was the prophet, who preceded thee and prophesied thee.
+      Thou art the great Kophta&mdash;thou art Count Alexander Cagliostro!&rsquo; As I
+      uttered the name, the lights were extinguished, deep darkness and profound
+      stillness reigned. The two countesses Dorothea von Medem and her sister,
+      Eliza von der Necke, clung trembling to me, neither of them daring to
+      break the silence even with a sigh. Suddenly the darkness disappeared,
+      and, with trembling flashes of light, there stood written on the wall:
+      &lsquo;Memento Domini Oagliostro et omnis mansuetudinis ejus.&rsquo; We sank upon our
+      knees, and implored thee to aid us. By degrees the strange, secret
+      characters disappeared, and darkness and silence reigned. The stillness
+      disquieted me at last, and I called for lights. As the servant entered,
+      the two countesses lay fainting upon the floor, and thou hadst
+      disappeared.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only to appear to thee at another time,&rdquo; said Cagliostro, &ldquo;to receive
+      thee with solemn ceremonies into the magic circle&mdash;to initiate thee
+      in the secret wisdom of spirits, and prepare thee for the invisible lodge.
+      Recall what I said to thee, three days since, in Dresden. Do you still
+      remember it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I recall it. Thou saidst: &lsquo;The secret service calls me to Mittau, with
+      the Countess Medem, to raise hidden treasure, of which the spirit has
+      given me knowledge, and decipher important magical characters on the walls
+      of a cloister. Before I leave, I will lead thee upon the way which thou
+      hast to follow in order to find the light, and let it illuminate the soul
+      which is worthy. Follow me, and I will lead thee to the path of glory,
+      power, and immortality.&rsquo; These were thy words, master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have now led thee hither,&rdquo; Cagliostro said to him, gently; &ldquo;thy soul
+      doubts and trembles, for thou art blind seeing eyes, and deaf with hearing
+      ears.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My soul doubts not, oh master&mdash;it comprehends not. I have followed
+      thee, devotedly and believingly. Thou knowest it, master, for thou readest
+      the souls of thy children, and seest their hidden thoughts. Thou hast said
+      to me in Dresden, &lsquo;Renounce your service to the Duke of Courland.&rsquo; I did
+      it, and from equerry and lord chamberlain to the duke, became a simple,
+      private gentleman. I have renounced my titles and dignities for thee, in
+      happy trust in thee. My future lies in thy hands, and, anxious to learn
+      the mysteries of immortality, as a grateful, trustful scholar, I would
+      receive happiness and unhappiness at thy hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thou shalt receive not only happiness,&rdquo; said Cagliostro, solemnly, &ldquo;but
+      thou art one of the elect. The blue flame glows upon thy brow, it will
+      illuminate thy soul, and lead thee to the path of glory, power, and might.
+      To-day thou art a simple, private gentleman, as thou sayst, but to-morrow
+      thou wilt become a distinguished lord, before whom hundreds will bow. Fame
+      awaits thee&mdash;which thou hast longed for&mdash;as power awaits thee.
+      Whom have I named to thee as our future and our hope in this land?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince Frederick William of Prussia,&rdquo; answered Herr von Bischofswerder,
+      humbly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As I spake this name, thou trembledst, and calledst him &lsquo;one lost in
+      sin.&rsquo; Knowest thou, my son, from sin comes penitence, and from penitence
+      elevation and purification. Thou art called and chosen to convert sinners,
+      and lead back the earth-born child to heaven. Engrave these words upon thy
+      memory, fill thy soul with them, as with glowing flames, repeat them in
+      solitude the entire day, then heavenly spirits will arise and whisper the
+      revelations of the future. Then, when thou art consecrated, I will
+      introduce thee into the sacred halls of sublime wisdom. Thou shalt be
+      received as a scholar in the temple hall, and it depends upon thee whether
+      thou advancest to the altar which reaches to the invisible world of
+      miracles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, master,&rdquo; cried Bisehofswerder, with a countenance beaming with joy,
+      and sinking upon his knees, &ldquo;wilt thou favor me, and introduce me to the
+      temple hall? Shall I be received in the sacred world of spirits?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thou shalt, Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder. The grand master of our
+      order will bestow upon thee this happiness, and to-night shall the star of
+      the future rise over thee. Hold thyself in readiness. At midnight, present
+      thyself at the first portal of the royal palace in Berlin. A man will meet
+      thee, and thou shalt ask, &lsquo;Who is our hope?&rsquo; If he answers thee, &lsquo;The
+      Prince of Prussia,&rsquo; then he is the messenger which I shall have sent thee&mdash;follow
+      him. Bow thy head in humility, shut thine eyes to all earthly things, turn
+      thy thoughts inward, and lift them up to the great departed, which hovers
+      over thy head, and speak with the blue flame which glows upon thy brow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Bischofswerder bowed still lower, covered his face with his hands, as if
+      inwardly praying, and knelt. Cagliostro bent over him, laid his hand upon
+      his head, breathing three times upon his blond hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have breathed upon thee with the breath of my spirit,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Thy
+      spirit receives power. Receive it in holy awe, in devotion, and remain
+      immovable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Bischofswerder continued motionless, with bowed head and concealed face.
+      Cagliostro raised himself, his black eyes fixed upon his disciple, and
+      noiselessly disappeared. Herr von Bischofswerder still remained kneeling.
+      After some time he raised his head, shyly looking about, and, as he found
+      himself alone, he rose. &ldquo;He has soared away,&rdquo; he murmured, softly. &ldquo;I
+      shall see him again, and he will consecrate me&mdash;the consecration of
+      immortals!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The king withdrew from the parade slowly, followed by his generals, in the
+      direction of Sans-Souci. The streets of Potsdam were lined with the
+      people, shouting their farewell to the king, who received them with a
+      smiling face. Arriving at the grand entrance, he turned to his suite,
+      saying, &ldquo;Gentlemen, we shall meet again in Bohemia; I must now take leave
+      of you, and forego the pleasure of receiving you again to-day. A king
+      about to leave for the field has necessary arrangements to make for the
+      future. I have much to occupy me, as I set out early to-morrow morning.
+      You, also, have duties to attend to. Farewell, gentlemen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised his worn-out three-cornered hat, saluted his generals with a
+      slight inclination of the head, and turned into the broad avenue which led
+      to the park of Sans-Souci. No one followed him but two mounted footmen,
+      who rode at a respectful distance, attentively regarding the king, of whom
+      only the bowed back and hat were visible. Half way down the avenue his
+      staff was raised above his hat, the sign the footmen awaited to dismount
+      with the greyhounds, which rode before them upon the saddle. At the shrill
+      barking of the animals, Frederick reined in his horse, and turned to look
+      for them. They bounded forward, one upon each side of the king, who
+      regarded them right and left, saying: &ldquo;Well, Alkmene, well Diana, let us
+      see who will be the lady of honor to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both dogs sprang with loud barking to the horse, as if understanding the
+      words of their master. Alkmene, stronger, or more adroit, with one bound
+      leaped to the saddle; while poor Diana landed upon the crouper, and, as if
+      ashamed, with hanging head and tail, withdrew behind the horse. &ldquo;Alkmene
+      has won!&rdquo; said Kretzschmar to his companion. &ldquo;Yes, Alkmene is the
+      court-lady to-day, and Diana the companion,&rdquo; he nodded. &ldquo;She will be
+      cross, and I do not blame her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor I,&rdquo; said Kretzschmar; &ldquo;there is a great difference between the
+      court-lady and the companion. The lady remains with the king all day; he
+      plays with her, takes her to walk, gives her bonbons, and the choice
+      morsels of chicken, and only when she has eaten sufficient, can the
+      companion enter to eat the remainder.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: This was the daily
+      order of rank with the favorite dogs, for whose service two dog-lackeys,
+      as they were called, were always in waiting. They took them to walk.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One could almost envy the king&rsquo;s greyhounds!&rdquo; sighed the second footman.
+      &ldquo;We get dogs&rsquo; wages, and they the chicken and good treatment. It is a
+      pity!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The worst of it is, the king forbids us to marry!&rdquo; said Kretzschmar
+      sadly. &ldquo;All the others would leave him, but I pay no attention to old
+      Fritz&rsquo;s snarling and scolding, for he pays for it afterward; first, it
+      rains abusive words, then dollars, and if the stupid ass hits me over the
+      head, he gives me at least a ducat for it. Why should not one endure
+      scoldings when is well paid for it? I remain the fine handsome fellow that
+      I am, if the old bear does call me an ass! His majesty might well be
+      satisfied if he had my fine figure and good carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, indeed, we are very different fellows from old Fritz!&rdquo; said the
+      second lackey, with a satisfied air. &ldquo;A princess once thought me a
+      handsome fellow! It is eleven years since, as I entered the guards on
+      account of my delicate figure. I was guard of honor in the anteroom of the
+      former crown princess of Prussia. It was my first experience. I did not
+      know the ways of the lords and ladies. Suddenly, a charming and
+      beautifully-dressed lady came into the anteroom, two other young ladies
+      following her, joking and laughing, quite at their pleasure. All at once
+      the elegantly-attired lady fixed her large black eyes upon me, so
+      earnestly, that I grew quite red, and looked down. &lsquo;See that handsome
+      boy,&rsquo; she cried. &lsquo;I will bet that it is a girl dressed up!&rsquo; She ran up to
+      me, and began to stroke my cheek with her soft hand, and laughed. &lsquo;I am
+      right. He has not the trace of a beard; it is a girl!&rsquo; And before I knew
+      it she kissed me, then again, and a third time even. I stood still as if
+      enchanted, and, as I thought another kiss was coming, whack went a stout
+      box on my ear. &lsquo;There is a punishment for you,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;that you may
+      know enough to return a kiss when a handsome lady gives you when the king
+      did not wish them with him; in summer, in an open wagon, the dogs upon the
+      back-seat, and the footmen upon the forward seat, and whenever they
+      reproved them, to bring them to order, they addressed them in the polite
+      manner of one, and not stand like a libber,&rsquo; and with that she boxed me
+      again. The other two ladies laughed, which made me angry, and my ears were
+      very warm. &lsquo;If that happens again,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;by thunder, she will find I
+      do not wait to be punished!&rsquo; I laid down the arms, and at once sprang
+      after the lady, when&mdash;the folding-doors were thrown open, and two
+      gentlemen, in splendid gold-embroidered dresses, entered. As they saw the
+      little lady, they stood astonished, and made the three prescribed bows. I
+      smelt the rat, and put on my sword quickly, and stood stiff as a puppet.
+      The gentlemen said, that they must beg an interview with her royal
+      highness, to deliver the king&rsquo;s commands. The princess went into an
+      adjoining room. One of the court-ladies stopped before me a moment, and
+      said: &lsquo;If you ever dare to tell of this, you shall be put in the fortress.
+      Remember it, and keep silent.&rsquo; I did so, and kept it a secret until
+      to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did the princess ever punish you again?&rdquo; asked Kretzchmar, with a bold,
+      spying look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, never,&rdquo; answered the lackey Schultz. &ldquo;The princess was ordered to
+      Stettin the next day, where she still lives as a prisoner for her gay
+      pranks. I remembered her punishment, and when a lady has kissed me, I have
+      bravely returned it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The footmen had followed the king up the slowly ascending horse-path to
+      the terrace, and now they sprang quickly forward. Kretzschmar swung
+      himself from his saddle, threw Schultz the reins, and, as the king drew up
+      at the side-door of the palace of Sans-Souci, he stood ready to assist him
+      to dismount. The king had given strict orders that no one should notice
+      his going or coming, and to-day, as usual, he entered without pomp or
+      ceremony into his private room, followed by Kretzschmar alone. He sank
+      back into his armchair, the blue damask covering of which was torn and
+      bitten by the dogs, so that the horse-hair stood out from the holes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now relate to me, Kretzschmar, how your expedition succeeded. Did you go
+      to Berlin to see Mademoiselle Enke last night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your majesty, I was there, and have brought you the writing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was she alone?&rdquo; asked the king, bending over to caress Alkmene, who lay
+      at his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; answered Kretzschmar, grinning, &ldquo;I do not know whether she was
+      alone or not. I only know that, as I waited a little on the corner of the
+      street, I saw a gentleman go out, wrapped in a cloak, a tall,
+      broad-shouldered gentleman, whom I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whom you naturally did not recognize,&rdquo; said the king, interrupting him;
+      &ldquo;it was a dark night, and no moon, so that you could not see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At your service, your majesty, I could see no one; I would only add that
+      the unknown may have been at Mademoiselle Enke&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he may not have been,&rdquo; cried the king, harshly. &ldquo;What else did you
+      learn?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing at all worth speaking about. Only one thing I must say, the
+      lackey Schultz is a prattling fool, and speaks very disrespectfully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he talk with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your majesty, with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he knows well that it would be welcome. What did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He related to me a love-affair with the crown princess of Prussia eleven
+      years since. He plumes himself upon the crown princess having stroked his
+      beard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be quiet!&rdquo; commanded the king, harshly. &ldquo;If Schultz was drunk, and talked
+      in a crazy manner, how dare you repeat it to me? Let this happen again,
+      and I will dismiss you my service. Remember it, you ass!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, your majesty, I thought I must relate all that I hear of
+      importance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was not important, and not worth the trouble of talking about. If
+      Schultz is such a drunken fellow I did not know it, and he is to be
+      pitied. You can go now; I give you a day to make your farewells to your
+      friends, and to console them with the hope of meeting you again. Put every
+      thing in order that concerns you. If you have debts, pay them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no money to pay them, your majesty,&rdquo; sighed Kretzschmar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king stepped to the iron coffer, of which no one possessed the key but
+      himself, and looking within said: &ldquo;You cannot have much money to-day, as
+      the drawer which contains the money for the gossips and spies is quite
+      empty, and you have had a good share of it. Five guldens remain for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas! your majesty, it is too little; twenty-five guldens would not pay
+      my debts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king closed the drawer, saying: &ldquo;Judas only received twenty shillings
+      for betraying his Master. Twenty-five is quite enough for Kretzschmar for
+      betraying his comrade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kretzschmar slunk away. The king fixed his great eyes upon him until the
+      door closed. &ldquo;Man is a miserable race; for gold he would sell his own
+      brother&mdash;would sell his own soul, if there could be found a
+      purchaser,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;Why do you growl, Alkmene, why trouble yourself,
+      mademoiselle? I was not speaking of your honorable race; only of the
+      pitiful race of men. Be quiet, my little dog, be quiet; I love you, and
+      you are my dear little dog,&rdquo; he said, pressing her caressingly to his
+      breast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The footman Schultz appeared to announce the equerry Von Schwerin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bid him enter,&rdquo; nodded the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Schwerin entered, with a smiling face. &ldquo;Have you accomplished what I
+      confided to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a profound bow Von Schwerin drew a roll of paper from his
+      breast-pocket, and handed it to the king, saying, &ldquo;I am so fortunate as to
+      have accomplished your commands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will Count Schmettau give up the villa at once?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your majesty, the new occupant could take possession to-day, with
+      all the furniture and house arrangements, for seven thousand five hundred
+      dollars. Here is the bill of sale, only the purchaser&rsquo;s name is wanting. I
+      have obeyed your majesty&rsquo;s commands, and acted as if I were the
+      purchaser.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Schmettau is not such a stupid fellow as to believe that, for he knows
+      that you cannot keep your money. You say the contract is ready, only the
+      signature of the purchaser is wanting and the money?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, your majesty, the name of the present possessor has not been
+      inserted. I did not presume to write it without the unmistakable command
+      of your majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know the name?&rdquo; asked the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not, but the generosity of my most gracious king and master allows
+      me to divine it, and my heart is filled to bursting with thankfulness and
+      joy. My whole life will not be long enough to prove to you my gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What for?&rdquo; asked the king, staring at Von Schwerin, quite surprised; &ldquo;you
+      cannot suppose that I have purchased the villa for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr von Schwerin smilingly nodded. &ldquo;I think so, your majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick laughed aloud. &ldquo;Schwerin, you are an uncommonly cunning fellow.
+      You see the grass grow before the seed is sown. This time you deceived
+      yourself&mdash;the grass has not grown. What good would it do you? You do
+      not need grass, but thistles, and they do not grow at Charlottenburg. Take
+      the contract to my minister Von Herzberg, whom you will find in the
+      audience-room, and then walk a little upon the terrace to enjoy the fresh
+      air. I promised you the privilege. First go to Von Herzberg, and say to
+      him to send the Prince of Prussia to me immediately upon his arrival. Why
+      do you wear so mournful a face all of a sudden? Can it be possible that my
+      chief equerry has so lowered himself as to go among the mechanics, and
+      build chateaux en Espagne? You know such houses are not suitable for our
+      northern climate, and fall down. Now, do what I told you, and then go upon
+      the terrace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The equerry glided away with sorrowful mien to Von Herzberg, and
+      communicated the king&rsquo;s commands to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have made a good purchase,&rdquo; said the minister, in a friendly manner.
+      &ldquo;His majesty will be very much pleased with the extraordinary zeal and the
+      great dexterity with which you have arranged the matter. Count Schmettau
+      has just been here, and he could not sufficiently commend your zeal and
+      prudence, and the sympathy and interest which you showed in the smallest
+      matters, as if the purchase were for yourself. The count wishes to reserve
+      two oil paintings in the saloon, which are an heirloom from his father. We
+      cannot but let the count retain them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Arrange it as you will,&rdquo; answered the equerry, fretfully; &ldquo;I have nothing
+      more to do with the affair&mdash;it lies in your hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But where are you going in such haste?&rdquo; said Herzberg, as the equerry
+      bowed hastily, and strode through the room toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His majesty commanded me to go upon the terrace,&rdquo; he replied, morosely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr von Herzberg looked after him surprised. &ldquo;Something must have
+      occurred, otherwise he is very tractable. Ah! there comes the prince. I
+      will go to meet him, and communicate to him the king&rsquo;s command&mdash;I
+      will await your royal highness here until you have spoken with the king,
+      if you will have the grace to seek me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will return by all means, if you will have the kindness to wait for
+      me,&rdquo; replied the prince, smiling, and hastened to the interview with his
+      royal uncle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick was seated in his arm-chair, upon his lap Alkmene, when the
+      crown prince entered. &ldquo;Bon jour, mon neveu! pardon me,&rdquo; said he, with a
+      friendly nod, &ldquo;that I remain seated, and do not rise to greet the future
+      King of Prussia.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, Heaven grant that many years pass before I succeed to the title
+      which my great and unapproachable predecessor has borne with so much
+      wisdom and fame, that one can well doubt the being able to emulate his
+      example, and must content himself to live under the shadow of his
+      intelligence and fame!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick slowly shook his head. &ldquo;The people will not be satisfied, nor
+      the coffers filled by fame. No one can live upon the great deeds of his
+      ancestors; he must be self-sustaining, not seek for the laurels in the
+      past, but upon the naked field of the future, which lies before him. Sow
+      the seeds of future laurels; fame troubles me but little, and I advise
+      you, my nephew, not to rely upon it. One must begin anew each day, and
+      make fresh efforts for vigorous deeds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The crown prince bowed, and seated himself upon the tabouret, which the
+      king, with a slight wave of the hand, signified to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will endeavor, sire, to follow the elevated sentiments of your majesty,
+      that I may not dishonor my great teacher.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You express yourself too modestly, my nephew, and I know that you think
+      otherwise; that your fiery spirit will never be contented to dishonor
+      yourself or your ancestors. Fate is favorable to you, and offers the
+      opportunity to confirm, what I judge you to be&mdash;a brave soldier, a
+      skilful captain&mdash;in a word, a true Hohenzollern! I would make you a
+      commander of a division of my army, and I shall follow every movement&mdash;every
+      operation, with lively interest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A ray of joy beamed upon the face of the prince; Frederick saw it with
+      satisfaction, and his heart warmed toward his nephew. &ldquo;He has at least
+      courage,&rdquo; he said to himself; &ldquo;he is no sybarite to quail before the rough
+      life of war.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will your majesty so greatly favor me as to accord me an independent
+      position in the campaign?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I offer you what belongs to you as a general and heir to the throne. On
+      me it devolves to direct the plans and operations, and on you to detail
+      them and direct the execution. I shall rejoice to see that you understand
+      the profession of war practically as well as theoretically. Therefore,
+      this war is so far welcome, that it will give my crown prince an
+      opportunity to win his first laurels, and adorn the brow which, until now,
+      has been crowned with myrtle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be silent&mdash;I do not reproach you, my nephew; I understand human
+      nature, and the seductive arts of women. It is time that you seek other
+      ornament&mdash;myrtle becomes a youthful brow, and the helmet adorns the
+      man crowned with laurels.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have long desired it, and I am deeply grateful to your majesty for the
+      opportunity to win it. This campaign is good fortune to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;War is never a good fortune,&rdquo; sighed the king&mdash;&ldquo;for the people it is
+      great misfortune. I would willingly have avoided it for their sake. But
+      the arrogance and the passion for territorial aggrandizement of the young
+      Emperor of Germany forces me to it. I dare not, and will not suffer
+      Austria to enrich herself through foreign inheritance, ignoring the
+      legitimate title of a German prince. Bavaria must remain an independent,
+      free German principality, under a sovereign prince. It is inevitably
+      necessary for the balance of power. I cannot yield, therefore, as a German
+      prince, that Austria increase her power in an illegitimate manner, but I
+      will cast my good sword in the scales, that the balance is heavier on the
+      side upon which depends the existence of Germany, that she may not be
+      tossed in the air by Austria&rsquo;s weight. These are my views and reasons for
+      the war upon which I now enter with reluctance. When the greatness and
+      equilibrium of Germany are at stake, no German prince should dare
+      hesitate. Austria has already cost Germany much blood, and will cause her
+      to shed still more. Believe it, my nephew, and guard yourself against
+      Austria&rsquo;s ambition for territorial aggrandizement. You see, I am like all
+      old people, always teaching youth, while we have much to learn ourselves.
+      We are all pupils, and our deeds are ever imperfect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty cannot believe that of himself. The sage of Sans-Souci is
+      the type, the master, and teacher of all Europe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My son,&rdquo; replied the king, &ldquo;the great men of antiquity recognized it as
+      the acme of wisdom, that they must be mindful that &lsquo;in the midst of life
+      we are in death.&rsquo; At the gay festivities and the luxurious feasts they
+      were interrupted in the merry song and voluptuous dance, with the warning:
+      &lsquo;Remember, O man, that thou must die!&rsquo; Let us profit by their wisdom! I
+      have startled you from the banquet of life, and I doubt not that many
+      singers and dancers will be enraged that I should put an end to the feasts
+      of roses and the merry dance in such an abominable manner. It would be an
+      evil omen in our warlike undertaking, if the rosy lips of the beauties
+      should breathe curses to follow us; therefore, we must try to conciliate
+      them, and leave a good souvenir in their hearts. You smile, my prince, and
+      you think it vain trouble for an old fellow; that I cannot win the favor
+      of the ladies under any pretension; so you must undertake for me the
+      reconciliation and the hush-money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am prepared for any thing which your majesty imposes upon me; only I
+      would defend myself against the interpretation which you give my smile&mdash;and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which was very near the truth,&rdquo; interrupted the king. &ldquo;I have called you
+      from the banquet of life, and I have interrupted the dancers, crowned with
+      roses in the midst of their dance, which they would finish before you. I
+      pray you, then, indemnify the enraged beauties, and let us go forth with a
+      quiet conscience, that we in no respect are indebted to any one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sire, it will be impossible for me to go to the field with a quiet
+      conscience upon this point.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Permit me to extend to you the means to do so,&rdquo; replied the king,
+      graciously smiling. &ldquo;Take this little box; it contains a wonderful elixir,
+      proof against all the infirmities and weaknesses of humanity, of one of
+      the greatest philosophers of human nature. By the right use of it, tears
+      of sorrow are changed to tears of joy, and a Megerea into a smiling angel,
+      as by enchantment. Before going to the war, I pray you to prove the
+      miraculous elixir upon one of the angry beauties. For, I repeat, we must
+      put our house in order, and leave no debts behind us. The debts of
+      gratitude must not be forgotten. Let us say &lsquo;Gesegnete Mahlzeit&rsquo; when we
+      have been well feasted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king handed the prince a little box, of beautiful workmanship, and
+      smiled as he rather vehemently thanked him, and at the same time tried to
+      open it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remark with pleasure that you have a tolerably innocent heart, as you
+      betray curiosity about the wonderful elixir. I supposed men, to say
+      nothing of beautiful women, had long since instructed you that it was the
+      only balsam for all the evils of life. My minister Herzberg will give you
+      the key of the little box, and advise you as to the right use of the
+      elixir. Farewell, with the hope of soon seeing you again, my nephew. I
+      start for Silesia to-morrow, as I must travel slower than you young
+      people. You will follow me in a few days. Again farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Extending his meagre white hand to the prince, he withdrew it quickly, as
+      the latter was about to press it to his lips, and motioned to the door
+      kindly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. THE GOLDEN RAIN.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Prince Frederick William betook himself, with painful curiosity, to the
+      audience-room, where the Minister von Herzberg awaited him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your excellency,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;his majesty refers me to you, for the true
+      explanation of the miraculous elixir contained in this little box, and
+      about which I am naturally very curious, and beg of you the key to open
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will your royal highness,&rdquo; said the minister, smiling, &ldquo;have the grace to
+      grant me a few moments&rsquo; conversation, which may serve as an explanation,
+      for his majesty has not in reality given me a key?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I pray you, my dear excellency, to explain it,&rdquo; cried the prince,
+      impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me if I probe the tenderest feelings of your heart, my prince. The
+      command of the king imposes this duty upon me. He has known for a long
+      time of your connection with a certain person, to whom you are more
+      devoted than to your wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, rather, his majesty has twice forced me to marry two unloved and
+      unknown princesses, when he knew that I already loved this certain person.
+      Twice I have married, because the command of his king is law to the crown
+      prince of Prussia. For my love and my sympathy there is no law but that of
+      my own heart, and this alone have I followed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His majesty does not reproach you. The philosopher of Sans-Souci
+      understands human nature, and he feels indulgent toward your weakness. He
+      is quite satisfied that you have chosen this person, as friend and
+      favorite, to console yourself for an unhappy marriage. Her low birth is a
+      guaranty that she will never mingle in politics, an act which would be
+      visited with his majesty&rsquo;s highest displeasure. While his majesty permits
+      you to continue this intimacy, and recognizes the existence of this woman,
+      he wishes her to be provided for as becomes the mistress of a crown
+      prince, and not as the grisette of a gentleman. She should have her own
+      house, and the livery of her lord.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if it were my fault that this has not already been arranged!&rdquo; cried
+      the prince. &ldquo;Am I not daily and hourly tormented with poverty, and
+      scarcely know how to turn, between necessary expenses and urgent
+      creditors? You know well yourself, your excellency, how stingy and
+      parsimonious the king is to the crown prince. He scarcely affords me the
+      means to support my family in a decent, to say nothing of a princely,
+      manner. How dependent we all are, myself, my wife, and my children upon
+      the king, whose economy increases, while our wants and expenses also
+      increase every year! It is sufficiently sad that I cannot reward those who
+      have proved to me during ten years their fidelity and love, but I must
+      suffer them to live in dependence and want.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His majesty understands that, and thinks that as your royal highness is
+      to go to the field, and will be exposed, as a brave commander, to the
+      uncertain fate of battle, that you should assure the future of all those
+      who are dear to you, and arrange a certain competency for them. A good
+      opportunity now offers to you. Count Schmettau will sell his villa at
+      Charlottenburg, and it would be agreeable to his majesty that you should
+      purchase it, and assign it to those dearest to you. In order to give you
+      as little trouble as possible, his majesty has had the matter already
+      arranged, through his equerry, Count Schmettau, and the purchase can be
+      made this very hour. Here is the bill of sale; only the name of the
+      present possessor is wanting, the signature of the purchaser, and the
+      payment of seven thousand five hundred thalers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The names can be quickly written; but, your excellency,&rdquo; cried the
+      prince, &ldquo;where will the money come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have just given your royal highness the key to the little box: have the
+      goodness to press hard upon the rosette.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince touched the spring, the cover flew back&mdash;it contained only
+      a strip of paper! Upon it was written, in the king&rsquo;s own handwriting,
+      &ldquo;Bill of exchange upon my treasurer. Pay to the order of the Prince of
+      Prussia twenty thousand thalers.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: &ldquo;Memoirs of the Countess
+      Lichtenau,&rdquo; vol.1]</i> The prince&rsquo;s face lighted up with joy. &ldquo;Oh! the
+      king has indeed given me a miraculous elixir, that compensates for all
+      misfortunes, heals all infirmities, and is a balsam for all possible
+      griefs. I will bring it into use immediately, and sign the bill of sale.&rdquo;
+       He signed the paper, and filled with haste the deficiency in the contract.
+      &ldquo;It is done!&rdquo; he cried, joyfully, &ldquo;the proprietress, Wilhelmine Enke;
+      purchaser, Frederick William of Prussia. Nothing remains to be done but to
+      draw upon the king&rsquo;s treasury, and pay Count Schmettau.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your royal highness is spared even that trouble. Here are twenty rolls,
+      and each roll contains one hundred double Fredericks d&rsquo;or, and, when your
+      highness commands it, I will reserve seven rolls and pay Count Schmettau;
+      then there remain thirteen for yourself. Here is the contract, which you
+      will give in person to the possessor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First, I must go to the king,&rdquo; said the prince; &ldquo;my heart urges me to
+      express my gratitude to him, and my deep sense of his goodness and
+      tenderness. I feel ashamed without being humbled, like a repentant son,
+      who has doubted the generosity and goodness of his father, because he has
+      sometimes severely reprimanded his faults. I must go at once to the king.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will not receive your royal highness,&rdquo; answered Herzberg, smiling.
+      &ldquo;You know our sovereign, who so fully deserves our admiration and love.
+      His favor and goodness beam upon us all, and he desires neither thanks nor
+      acknowledgment. He performs his noble, glorious deeds in a harsh manner,
+      that he may relieve the recipients of his bounty from the burden of
+      gratitude; and often when he is the most morose and harsh, is he at heart
+      the most gracious and affectionate. You and yours have experienced it
+      to-day. He appeared to be angry, and enveloped himself in the toga of a
+      severe judge of morals; but, under this toga, there beat the kind, noble
+      heart of a friend and father, who punishes with rigorous words, and
+      forgives with generous, benevolent deeds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For this I must thank him&mdash;he must listen to me!&rdquo; cried the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will be angry if your royal highness forces him to receive thanks when
+      he would avoid them. He has expressly commanded me to entreat you never to
+      allude to the affair, and never to speak of it to others, as it would not
+      be agreeable to his majesty to have the family affairs known to the world.
+      You would best please his majesty by following exactly his wishes, and
+      when you meet him never allude to it. As I have said, this is the express
+      wish and command of the king.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which I must naturally follow,&rdquo; sighed the prince, &ldquo;although I
+      acknowledge that it is unpleasant to me to receive so much kindness from
+      him without at least returning my most heart-felt thanks. Say to the king,
+      that I am deeply, sensibly moved with his tender sympathy and generosity.
+      And now I will hasten to Wilhelmine Enke; but, it occurs to me that it may
+      not be possible; the king has made her a prisoner in her own house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not trouble yourself about that. If it is your royal highness&rsquo;s
+      pleasure, drive at once to Charlottenburg. You will find the new possessor
+      there and she will relate to you her interview with the mayor of Berlin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! I shall drive at once to the villa. I am curious to learn what Von
+      Kircheisen has told her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagined that you would be, and ordered your carriage here, as you
+      could not well ride upon horseback with the heavy rolls of gold; and if it
+      is your pleasure, I will order the footman to place the box, into which I
+      have put them, in the carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; I beg you to let me carry them,&rdquo; cried the prince, seizing the
+      box with both hands. &ldquo;It is truly heavy, but an agreeable burden, and if
+      it lames my arm I shall bethink myself of the miraculous elixir, which
+      will give me courage and strength. Farewell, your excellency; I shall
+      hurry on to Charlottenburg!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince hastened to his carriage, and ordered the coachman to drive at
+      full speed to the villa. Thanks to this order, he reached it in about an
+      hour. No one was there to receive him upon his arrival. The hall was
+      empty, and the rooms were closed. The prince passed on to the opposite
+      end, where there was a door open, and stood upon a balcony, with steps
+      descending into the garden, which, with its flower-beds, grass-plots,
+      shrubbery, and the tall trees, formed a lovely background. The birds were
+      singing, the trees rustled, and variegated butterflies fluttered over the
+      odorous flowers. Upon the turf, forming a beautiful group, was Wilhelmine
+      playing with her daughter, and the nurse with the little boy upon her lap,
+      who laughingly stretched out his arms toward his mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wilhelmine&mdash;Wilhelmine!&rdquo; cried the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a cry of joy she answered, and flew toward the house. &ldquo;You have come
+      at last, my beloved lord,&rdquo; she cried, almost breathless, mounting the
+      steps. &ldquo;I beg you to tell me what all this means? I am dying of
+      curiosity!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I also,&rdquo; said the prince, smiling. &ldquo;Have the goodness to lead me to one
+      of the rooms, that I may set down this box.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does that hobgoblin contain, that it prevents your embracing me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not ask, but hasten to assist me to relieve myself of the burden.&rdquo;
+       They entered the house, and Wilhelmine opened the wide folding-doors,
+      which led into a very tastefully-furnished room. Frederick William set the
+      box upon the marble table, and sank upon a divan with Wilhelmine in his
+      arms. &ldquo;First of all, tell me what Von Kircheisen said to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He commanded me, in the name of the king, to give up my dwelling at
+      Berlin and at Potsdam, and to avoid showing myself in public at both
+      places, that those who had the right to the love and fidelity of the
+      Prince of Prussia should not be annoyed at the sight of me; that I should
+      live retired, and leave the appointed residence as little as possible, for
+      then the king would be inclined to ignore my existence, and take no
+      further notice of me. But, if I attempted to play a role, his majesty
+      would take good care that it should be forever played out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Those were harsh, cruel words,&rdquo; sighed Frederick William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harsh, cruel words,&rdquo; repeated Wilhelmine, sorrowfully. &ldquo;They pierced my
+      soul, and I shrieked at last from agony. Herr von Kircheisen was quite
+      frightened, and begged me to excuse him, that he must thus speak to me,
+      but the king had commanded him to repeat his very words. The carriage was
+      at the door, he said, ready to convey me to my future dwelling, for I must
+      immediately leave Berlin, and the king be informed of my setting out. The
+      coachman received the order, and here I am, without knowing what I am to
+      do, or whether I shall remain here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Wilhelmine, you are to remain here; at last we have a home, and a
+      resting-place for our love and our children. This house is yours&mdash;you
+      are mistress here, and you must welcome me as your guest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This house is mine!&rdquo; she cried, joyfully. &ldquo;Did you give it to me? How
+      generous, and how extravagant you are! Protect me with the gift of your
+      love, as if you were Jupiter and I Danae!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A beautiful picture, and, that it may be a reality, I will play the role
+      of Jupiter and open the box.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took a roll of gold, and let it fall upon Wilhelmine&rsquo;s head, her
+      beautiful shoulders, and her arms, like a shower of gold. She shrieked and
+      laughed, and sought to gather up the pieces which rolled ringing around
+      her upon the floor. The prince seized another roll, and another still,
+      till she was flooded with the glistening pieces. Then another and another,
+      until Wilhelmine, laughing, screamed for grace, and sprang up, the gold
+      rolling around her like teasing goblins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Minister Herzberg had, in the mean time, an interview with the king,
+      informing him of the concluded purchase of the Schmettau villa, and of the
+      emotion and gratitude of the crown prince at his royal munificence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That affair is arranged, then,&rdquo; said Frederick. &ldquo;If Fate wills that the
+      prince should not return from this campaign, then this certain person and
+      the two poor worms are provided for, who are destined to wander through
+      the world nameless and fatherless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us hope that fate will not deal so harshly with the prince, or bring
+      such sorrow upon your majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear sir, Fate is a hard-hearted creature, the tears of mankind are of
+      no more importance to her than the raindrops falling from the roof. She
+      strides with gigantic power over men, crushing them all in dust&mdash;the
+      great as well as the little&mdash;the king as well as the beggar. For my
+      part I yield to Fate without a murmur. Politicians and warriors are mere
+      puppets in the hands of Providence. We act without knowing why, for we are
+      unknowingly the tools of an invisible hand. Often the result of our
+      actions is the reverse of our hopes! Let all things take their course, as
+      it best pleases God, and let us not think to master Fate. <i>[Footnote:
+      The king&rsquo;s words.&mdash;&ldquo;Posthumous Works,&rdquo; vol. x., p. 256.]</i> That is
+      my creed, Herzberg, and if I do not return from this infamous campaign,
+      you will know that I have yielded to Fate without murmuring. You
+      understand my wishes in all things; the current affairs of government
+      should go on regularly. If any thing extraordinary occurs, let me be
+      informed at once. Is there any news, Herzberg?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing worth recounting, sire, except that the young Duke of Weimar is
+      in town.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it; he has announced himself. I cannot speak with him. I have
+      asked my brother Henry to arrange the conditions under which he will allow
+      us to enlist men for my army in his duchy. I hope he will be reasonable,
+      and not prevent it. That is no news that the Duke of Weimar has arrived!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not only the duke has arrived, but he has brought his dear friend with
+      him whom the people in Saxe-Weimar say makes the good and bad weather.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is the weather-maker?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, this weather-maker is the author of &lsquo;The Sorrows of Young
+      Werther,&rsquo; Johann Wolfgang Goethe, who for four years has aroused the
+      hearts and excited the imaginations of all Germany. If I am not deceived,
+      a great future opens for this poet, and he will be a star of the first
+      magnitude in the sky of German literature. I believe it would be well
+      worth the trouble for your majesty to see him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not trouble me with your German literature, and your stars of the
+      first magnitude! We must acknowledge our poverty with humility;
+      belles-lettres have never achieved success upon our soil. Moreover, this
+      star of the first magnitude&mdash;this Herr Goethe&mdash;I remember him
+      well; I wish to know nothing of him. He has quite turned the heads of all
+      the love-sick fools with his &lsquo;Sorrows of Young Werther.&rsquo; You cannot count
+      that a merit. The youth of Germany were sufficiently enamoured, without
+      the love-whining romances of Herr Goethe to pour oil on the fire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, sire, that I should presume to differ from you; but this book
+      which your majesty condemns has not only produced a furor in Germany, but
+      throughout Europe&mdash;throughout the world even. That which public
+      opinion sustains in such a marked manner cannot be wholly unworthy. &lsquo;Vox
+      populi, vox dei,&rsquo; is a true maxim in all ages.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not true!&rdquo; cried the king. &ldquo;The old Roman maxim is not applicable
+      to our effeminate, degraded people. Nowadays, whoever flatters the people
+      and glorifies their weaknesses, is a good fellow, and he is extolled to
+      the skies. Public opinion calls him a genius and a Messiah. Away with your
+      nonsense! The &lsquo;Werther&rsquo; of Herr Goethe has wrought no good; it has made
+      the healthy sick, and has not restored invalids to health. Since its
+      appearance a mad love-fever has seized all the young people, and silly
+      sentimentalities and flirtations have become the fashion. These modern
+      Werthers behave as if love were a tarantula, with the bite of which they
+      must become mad, to be considered model young men. They groan and sigh,
+      take moonlight walks, but they have no courage in their souls, and will
+      never make good soldiers. This is the fault of Herr Werther, and his
+      abominable lamentations. It is a miserable work, and not worth the trouble
+      of talking about, for no earnest man will read it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, sire; your majesty has graciously permitted me to enter the
+      lists as knight and champion of German literature, and sometimes to defend
+      the German Muse, who stands unnoticed and unknown under the shadow of your
+      throne; while the French lady, with her brilliant attire and painted
+      cheeks, is always welcomed. I beg your majesty to believe that, although
+      this romance may have done some harm, it has, on the other hand, done
+      infinite service. A great and immortal merit cannot be denied to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What merit?&rdquo; demanded the king, slowly taking a pinch of snuff; &ldquo;I am
+      very curious to know what merit that crazy, love-sick book has.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, it has the great merit to have enriched the German literature with
+      a work whose masterly language alone raises it above every thing
+      heretofore produced by a German author. It has emancipated our country&rsquo;s
+      literature from its clumsy, awkward childhood, and presented it as an
+      ardent, inspired youth, ready for combat, upon the lips of whom the gods
+      have placed the right word to express every feeling and every thought&mdash;a
+      youth who is capable of probing the depths of the human heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish all this might have remained in the depths,&rdquo; cried Frederick,
+      annoyed. &ldquo;You have defended the German Muse before; but you remember that
+      I am incorrigible. You cannot persuade me that bungling is master-work. It
+      is not the poverty of the mind, but the fault of the language, which is
+      not capable of expressing with brevity and precision. For how could any
+      one translate Tacitus into German without adding a mass of words and
+      phrases? In French it is not necessary; one can express himself with
+      brevity, and to the point.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I shall permit myself to prove to you that the brevity of Tacitus
+      can be imitated in the German language. I will translate a part of
+      Tacitus, to give your majesty a proof.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will take you at your word! And I will answer you in a treatise upon
+      German literature, its short-comings, and the means for its improvement.
+      <i>[Footnote: This treatise appeared during the Bavarian war of
+      succession, in the winter of 1779] Until then, a truce. I insist upon it&mdash;good
+      German authors are entirely wanting to us Germans. They may appear a long
+      time after I have joined Voltaire and Algarotti in the Elysian
+      Fields.&rdquo;[Footnote: The king&rsquo;s words.&mdash;See &ldquo;Posthumous Works,&rdquo; vol.
+      II., p. 293.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are already here,&rdquo; cried Herzberg, zealously. &ldquo;We have, for example,
+      Lessing, who has written two dramas, of which every nation might be proud&mdash;&lsquo;Minna
+      von Barnhelm, and Emilia Calotti.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know nothing of them,&rdquo; said the king, with indifference. &ldquo;I have never
+      heard of your Lessing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, this wonderful comedy, &lsquo;Minna von Barnhelm,&rsquo; was written
+      for your majesty&rsquo;s glorification.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more the reason why I should not read it! A German comedy! That must
+      be fine stuff for the German theatre, the most miserable of all. In
+      Germany, Melpomene has untutored admirers, some walking on stilts, others
+      crawling in the mire, from the altars of the goddess. The Germans will
+      ever be repulsed, as they are rebels to her laws, and understand not the
+      art to move and interest the heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, sire, you have never deigned to become acquainted with &lsquo;Minna von
+      Barnhelm&rsquo; nor &lsquo;Emilia Calotti.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, Herzberg, do not be so furious; you are a lover of German
+      literature, and some allowance must be made for those who are in love. You
+      will not persuade me to read your things which you call German comedies
+      and tragedies. I will take good care; my teeth are not strong enough to
+      grind such hard bits. Now do not be angry, Herzberg. The first leisure
+      hours that I have in this campaign I shall employ on my treatise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the first leisure hours that I have,&rdquo; growled the minister, &ldquo;I shall
+      employ to translate a portion of Tacitus into our beautiful German
+      language, to send to your majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are incorrigible,&rdquo; said Frederick, smiling. &ldquo;We shall see, and until
+      then let us keep the peace, Herzberg. When one is about to go to war, it
+      is well to be at peace with one&rsquo;s conscience and with his friends; so let
+      us be good friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, your graciousness and kindness make me truly ashamed,&rdquo; said
+      the minister, feelingly. &ldquo;I beg pardon a thousand times, if I have allowed
+      myself to be carried away with unbecoming violence in my zeal for our poor
+      neglected German literature.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I approve of your zeal, and it pleases me that you are a faithful knight,
+      sans peur et sans reproche. I do not ascribe its poverty to the German
+      nation, who have as much spirit and genius as any nation, the mental
+      development of which has been retarded by outward circumstances, which
+      prevented her rising to an equality with her neighbors. We shall one day
+      have classical writers, and every one will read them to cultivate himself.
+      Our neighbors will learn German, and it will be spoken with pleasure at
+      courts; and it can well happen that our language, when perfectly formed,
+      will spread throughout Europe. We shall have our German classics also.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      The king&rsquo;s words&mdash;see &ldquo;Posthumous Works,&rdquo; vol. III.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king smiled, well pleased, as he observed by stolen glances the noble,
+      intelligent face of Herzberg brighten, and the gloomy clouds dispersed
+      which had overshadowed it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, is it not true that you are again contented?&rdquo; said the king,
+      graciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am delighted with the prophecy for the German language, your majesty;
+      and may I add something?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will weigh on your heart if you do not tell it,&rdquo; said the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I prophesy that this Goethe will one day belong to the classic authors,
+      and therefore I would beg once more of your majesty to grant him a
+      gracious look, and invite him to your presence. If you find no pleasure in
+      &lsquo;The Sorrows of Werther,&rsquo; Goethe has created other beautiful works. He is
+      the author of the tragedy of &lsquo;Stella.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That sentimental, immoral piece, which we forbid the representation of in
+      Berlin, because it portrays a fellow who made love to two women at once,
+      playing the double role of lover to his wife and his paramour, while he
+      had a grown-up daughter! It is an immoral piece, which excites the
+      tear-glands, and ends as &lsquo;Werther,&rsquo; by the hero blowing his brains out. It
+      is directed against all morals, and against marriage; therefore it was
+      forbidden.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: The tragedy of &ldquo;Stella&rdquo; was represented in
+      Berlin with great applause, and denounced by the king as immoral, in the
+      year 1776, and the further representation forbidden.&mdash;See Plumke,
+      &ldquo;History of the Berlin Theatres.&rdquo;]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, sire, Herr Goethe has not only written &lsquo;Stella,&rsquo; but &lsquo;Clavigo&rsquo; also,
+      which&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which he has copied exactly from the &lsquo;Memoires de Beaumarchais,&rsquo;&rdquo;
+       interrupted the king. &ldquo;That is not a German, but a French production.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Allow me to cite a genuine German production, which Johann Wolfgang
+      Goethe has written. I mean the drama &lsquo;Gotz von Berlichingen.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop!&mdash;it is sufficient. I do not wish to hear any thing more,&rdquo;
+       cried the king, indignant, and rising. &ldquo;It is bad enough that such pieces
+      should appear upon the German stage as this &lsquo;Gotz von Berlichingen.&rsquo; They
+      are nothing less than abominable imitations of the bad English pieces of
+      Shakespeare! The pit applauds them, and demands with enthusiasm these very
+      disgusting platitudes. <i>[Footnote: The king&rsquo;s own words.&mdash;See
+      &ldquo;Posthumous Works,&rdquo; vol. iii.]</i> Do not be angry again, you must have
+      patience with the old boy! I shall rejoice heartily if this Herr Goethe
+      becomes a classic writer one day, as you say. I shall not live to witness
+      it. I only see the embryo where you see the full-grown author. We will
+      talk further about it when we meet in the Elysian Fields; then we will
+      see, when you present this Herr Johann Wolfgang Goethe, as a German
+      classic writer, to Homer, Horace, Virgil, and Corneille, if they do not
+      turn their backs upon him. Now adieu, Herzberg! So soon as circumstances
+      permit, I shall send for you to go to Silesia, and then you can give me
+      your German translation of Tacitus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king nodded in a friendly manner to his minister, and slowly walked
+      back and forth, while he took leave and withdrew. After a few moments he
+      rang, and the summons was immediately answered by the footman Schultz.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king fixed upon him one of those searching glances of his fiery eyes
+      which confounded and confused the footman. He remained standing and
+      embarrassed, with downcast look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you standing there for?&rdquo; asked the king. &ldquo;Did I not ring for
+      you, and do you not know what you have to do?&rdquo; Frederick continued to
+      regard him, with flashing eyes, which increased the lackey&rsquo;s confusion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He forgot entirely that the summons was for his majesty&rsquo;s lunch, and all
+      that he had to do was to open the door to the adjoining room, where it
+      stood already prepared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick waited a moment, but the footman still stood irresolute, when
+      his majesty indicated to him to approach.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He approached, staggering under the puzzling glance of his master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! I see what it is,&rdquo; said Frederick, shrugging his shoulders; &ldquo;you are
+      drunk again, as you often are, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty,&rdquo; cried Schultz, amazed, &ldquo;I drunk!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence!&mdash;will you be bold enough to reason with me? I say that you
+      are drunk, and I want no drunken footmen. They must be well-behaved, sober
+      fellows, who keep their ears open and their mouths shut&mdash;who are
+      neither drunkards nor gossips, and do not take for truth what they have
+      experienced in their drunken fits. I do not want such fellows as you are
+      at all; you are only fit food for cannon, and for that you shall serve. Go
+      to General Alvensleben, and present yourself to enter the guards. You are
+      lucky to go to the field at once; to-morrow you will set off. Say to the
+      general that I sent you, and that you are to enter as a common soldier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, your majesty, I do not know what I have done,&rdquo; cried Schultz,
+      whiningly. &ldquo;I really am not drunk. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence!&rdquo; thundered the king. &ldquo;Do as I command you! Go to General
+      Alvensleben, and present yourself to enter the guards at once. Away with
+      you! I do not need drunken, gossiping footmen in my service. Away with
+      you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The footman slunk slowly away, his head hanging down, with difficulty
+      restraining the tears which stood in large drops in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king followed him with his glance, which softened and grew gentler
+      from sympathy. &ldquo;I pity him, the poor fellow! but I must teach him a
+      lesson. I want no gossips around me. He need only wear the uniform two
+      weeks or so, that will bring him to reason. Then I will pardon him, and
+      receive him into my service again. He is a good-natured fellow, and would
+      not betray any one as Kretzschmar betrayed him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king stepped to the window to look at the gentleman who was eagerly
+      engaged in conversation with the castellan of Sans-Souci. At this instant
+      the footman entered with a sealed note for the king. &ldquo;From his royal
+      highness Prince Henry,&rdquo; said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who brought it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The gentleman who speaks with the castellan upon the terrace. I wait your
+      majesty&rsquo;s commands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait, then.&rdquo; The note ran thus: &ldquo;Your majesty, my dearly-beloved brother:
+      The bearer, Johann Wolfgang Goethe, one of the literati, and a poet, and
+      at this time secretary of legation to the duchy of Saxe-Weimar, is a great
+      favorite of the duke&rsquo;s, our nephew. I met him returning from the parade in
+      company with the duke, who expressed to me the strong desire his secretary
+      had to visit the celebrated house of the great philosopher of Sans-Souci,
+      and see the room once occupied by Voltaire. I could not well refuse, and
+      therefore address these few lines to your majesty before returning to
+      Berlin with the duke, who will dine with me, accompanied by his secretary.
+      I am your majesty&rsquo;s most humble servant and brother, HENRY.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell the castellan that I grant him permission to show the house and park
+      to the stranger; he shall take care not to come in my way, so that I shall
+      be obliged to meet him. Tell this aside, that you may not be overheard.
+      Hasten, for they have already been waiting some time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king walked again to the window, and, hidden by the curtain, peeped
+      out. &ldquo;So, this is Herr Goethe, is it? What assurance! There he stands,
+      sketching the house. What wonderful eyes the man has! With what a proud,
+      confident manner he looks around! What a brow! Truly he is a handsome
+      fellow, and Herzberg may be right after all. That brow betokens thought,
+      and from those eyes there flashes a divine light. But he looks overbearing
+      and proud. Now, I am doubly pleased that I refused Herzberg to have any
+      thing to do with him. Such presumptive geniuses must be rather kept back;
+      then they feel their power, and strive to bring themselves forward. Yes! I
+      believe that man has a future. He looks like the youthful god Apollo, who
+      may have condescended to descend to earth! He shall not entrap me with his
+      beautiful head. If he is the man who makes good and bad weather in Weimar,
+      he shall learn that rain and sunshine at Sans-Souci do not depend upon
+      him; that the sun and clouds here do not care whether Herr Goethe is in
+      the world or not. For sunshine and storm we depend upon the Great
+      Weather-Maker, to whom we must all bow; evil and good days in Prussia
+      shall emanate from me, so long as I live. Sometimes I succeed in causing a
+      little sunshine,&rdquo; continued the king. &ldquo;I believe the Prince of Prussia has
+      to-day felt the happy influence of the sun&rsquo;s rays; and while it is dull
+      and lonely at Sans-Souei, may it be brighter and more cheerful at
+      Charlottenburg! Eh bien! old boy,&rdquo; said the king, stopping, &ldquo;you are
+      playing the sentimental, and eulogizing your loneliness. Well, well, do
+      not complain.&mdash;Oh, come to me, spirits of my friends, and hold
+      converse with me! Voltaire, D&rsquo;Argens, and my beloved Lord-Marshal Keith!
+      Come to me, departed souls, with the memories of happier days, and hover
+      with thy cheering, sunny influence over the wrinkled brow of old Fritz!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While the lonely king implored the spirits of his friends, to brighten
+      with their presence the quiet, gloomy apartment at Sans-Souci, the sun
+      shone in full splendor at Charlottenburg&mdash;the sunshine beaming from
+      the munificence of Frederick. Wilhelmine Enke had passed the whole day in
+      admiring the beautiful and tasteful arrangement of the villa. Every piece
+      of furniture, every ornament, she examined attentively&mdash;all filled
+      her with delight. The prince, who accompanied her from room to room,
+      listened to her outbursts of pleasure, rejoicing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish that I could often prepare such happiness for you, dearest, for my
+      heart is twice gladdened to see your beaming face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reflected from your own. You are my good genius upon earth. You have
+      caused the poor, neglected child to become the rich and happy woman. To
+      you I owe this home, this foot of earth, which I can call my own. Here
+      blossom the flowers for me&mdash;here I am mistress, and those who enter
+      must come as my guests, and honor me. All this I owe to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to me,&rdquo; said the prince, smiling; &ldquo;I only gave to you what was given
+      to me! To the king belong your thanks. Harsh in words, but gentle in
+      deeds, he has given you this refuge, freeing you from the slavery of
+      poverty, from the sorrow of being homeless. But tell it not, Wilhelmine.
+      The king would be angry if it were known that he not only tolerated but
+      showed great generosity to you. It is a secret that I ought not even to
+      disclose to you. I could not receive your thanks, for I have not deserved
+      them. From the king comes your good fortune, not from me. The day will
+      come when I can requite you, when the poor crown prince becomes the rich
+      king. On that day the golden rain shall again shower upon you, never to
+      cease, and, vying with the shower of gold, the brightest sunbeams play
+      continually around you. As king, I will reward your fidelity and love,
+      which you have proved to the poor crown prince, with splendor, power, and
+      riches. Until then rejoice with the little that his grace has accorded
+      you, and await the much that love will one day bring you. Farewell,
+      Wilhelmine, the evening sets in, and I must forth to Potsdam. The king
+      would never pardon me if I did not pass the last evening with my wife in
+      the circle of my family. Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He embraced her tenderly, and Wilhelmine accompanied the prince to the
+      carriage, and returned to survey anew the beautiful rooms which were now
+      her own possession. An unspeakable, unknown feeling was roused in her, and
+      voices, which she had never heard, spoke to her from the depths of her
+      heart. &ldquo;You are no longer a despised, homeless creature,&rdquo; they whispered.
+      &ldquo;You have a home, a foot of earth to call your own. Make yourself a name,
+      that you may be of consequence in the world. You are clever and beautiful,
+      and with your prudence and beauty you can win a glorious future! Remember
+      the Marquise de Pompadour, neglected and scorned as you, until a king
+      loved her, and she became the wife of a king, and all France bowed down to
+      her. Even the Empress Maria Theresa honored her with her notice, and
+      called her cousin. I am also the favorite of a future king, and I will
+      also become the queen of my king!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine had remained standing in the midst of the great drawing-room,
+      which she was passing through, listening to these seductive voices, to
+      these strange pictures of the future. In her imagination she saw herself
+      in this room surrounded with splendor and magnificence, and sparkling with
+      gems. She saw around her elegantly-attired ladies and gentlemen, in
+      brilliant uniforms, glittering with orders; saw every-where smiling faces,
+      and respectful manners. She saw all eyes turned to her, and heard only
+      flattering words, which resounded for her from every lip&mdash;for her,
+      once so despised and scorned! &ldquo;It shall be, yes, it shall be,&rdquo; cried she
+      aloud. &ldquo;I will be the queen of my king! I will become the Prussian
+      Marquise de Pompadour; that I swear by the heads of my children, by&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rather swear by thy own beautiful head, Wilhelmine,&rdquo; said a voice behind
+      her. Startled, she turned, and beheld the tall figure of a man, wrapped in
+      a long cloak, who stood in the open door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; she cried, amazed. &ldquo;How dare you enter here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The figure closed the door, without answering, and, slowly approaching
+      Wilhelmine, fixed his black eyes upon her with a searching gaze. She tried
+      to summon help, but the words died on her lips; her cheeks blanched with
+      terror, and, as if rooted to the floor, she stood with outstretched arms
+      imploring the approaching form. The figure smiled, but there was something
+      commanding in its manner, and in the fiery eyes, which rested upon her.
+      When quite near her, it raised its right hand with an impatient movement.
+      Immediately her arms fell at her side, her cheeks glowed, and a bright
+      smile lighted up her face. Then it lifted the three-cornered,
+      gold-bordered hat which shaded its face, nodding to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you recognize me, Wilhelmine?&rdquo; he asked, in a sweet, melodious voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, her eyes still fixed upon him. &ldquo;You are Cagliostro,
+      the great ruler and magician.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did we meet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remember; it was in Paris, at the house of the governor of the Bastile,
+      M. Delaunay. You caused me to read in a glass the future&mdash;a bright,
+      glorious future. I was surrounded with splendor and magnificence. I saw
+      myself glittering with gems; a king knelt at my feet. I was encircled by
+      richly-attired courtiers, who bowed before me, and honored me, whispering:
+      &lsquo;We salute you, O beautiful countess; be gracious to us, exalted
+      princess!&rsquo; It sounded like heavenly music, and I shouted with delight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was that all?&rdquo; said Cagliostro, solemnly, &ldquo;that the crystal showed you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Shuddering, she murmured: &ldquo;The splendor, glory, and power vanished, and
+      all was changed to a fearful picture. I saw myself in a plain, dark dress,
+      in a deserted, lonely room, with iron-barred windows, and a small iron
+      door closed in the dreary white walls&mdash;it was a prison! And I heard
+      whispered around me: &lsquo;Woe to you, fallen and dethroned one! You have
+      wasted away the days of your splendor, submit in patience to the days of
+      your shame and humiliation.&rsquo; I could not endure to behold it, and screamed
+      with terror, fainting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You demanded to see the future, and I showed it to you,&rdquo; said Cagliostro,
+      earnestly. &ldquo;Though I let the light shine into your soul, still it was dark
+      within; you pursued the way of unbelief, and desired not to walk in the
+      way of knowledge. I sent messengers twice to you to lead you in the right
+      path, and you sent them laughing away. Recall what I told you in Paris. I
+      will it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remember, master; you said that in the most important days of my life
+      you would come to me, and extend to me a helping hand: if I seized it, the
+      first picture would be fulfilled; if I refused it, the prison awaited me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have kept my word: to-day is an eventful day in your life; you have
+      risen from want and degradation&mdash;you have mounted the first rounds of
+      the ladder of your greatness and power. You are the mistress of this
+      house.&rdquo; &ldquo;How did you know it?&rdquo; asked Wilhelmine, astonished. With a
+      pitying smile he answered: &ldquo;I know every thing that I will, and I see many
+      things that I would willingly close my eyes upon. I see your future, and
+      my soul pities you, unhappy one; you are lost if you do not seize the hand
+      extended to you. You see not the abyss which opens before you, and you
+      will fall bleeding and with broken limbs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy, mercy!&rdquo; she groaned&mdash;&ldquo;stretch out your hand and protect me.&rdquo;
+       Wilhelmine sank as if crushed to the earth. Cagliostro bent over her, and
+      stroked her cold, pale face, breathing upon her the hot breath of his
+      lips. &ldquo;I will pity you&mdash;I will protect you. Rise, my daughter!&rdquo; He
+      assisted her to rise, and imprinted a passionate kiss upon her hand. &ldquo;From
+      this hour I count you as one of mine,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;you shall be received
+      into the holy band of spirits! You shall be consecrated, and enter the
+      Inner Temple. Are you prepared?&rdquo; &ldquo;I am, master,&rdquo; she humbly replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow the Temple brothers will open the temple of bliss to you. You
+      shall hear, see, and be silent.&rdquo; &ldquo;I will see, hear, and be silent,&rdquo; she
+      murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When evening sets in, send away your servants,&rdquo; commanded Cagliostro.
+      &ldquo;Let the doors stand open; they shall be guarded, that no one may enter
+      but the summoned. Art thou prepared?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am, master!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Withdraw now to your room, Wilhelmine, and elevate your thoughts in
+      devotion and contrition, and await the future. Kneel, my daughter, kneel!&rdquo;
+       She sank upon her knees. &ldquo;Bless me, master, bless me!&rdquo; &ldquo;I bless you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She felt a hot, burning sensation upon her forehead, and suddenly a bright
+      light shone in the obscure room. Wilhelmine screamed, and covered her
+      eyes. When she ventured to look up, only soft moonlight penetrated from
+      the high window into the apartment, and she was alone. &ldquo;To-morrow&mdash;to-morrow,
+      at midnight!&rdquo; she murmured, shuddering, and casting a timid look around.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK II. ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. GOETHE IN BERLIN.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I only knew whether it were a man, or whether the god Apollo has
+      really appeared to me in human form,&rdquo; sighed Conrector Moritz, as he paced
+      his room&mdash;a strange, gloomy apartment, quite in keeping with the
+      singular occupant&mdash;gray walls, with Greek apothegms inscribed upon
+      them in large letters&mdash;dirty windows, pasted over with strips of
+      paper; high, open book-shelves, containing several hundred books, some
+      neatly arranged, others thrown together in confusion. In the midst of a
+      chaos of books and papers stood a colossal bust of the Apollo-Belvedere
+      upon a table near the window, the whiteness and beauty of which were in
+      singular contrast, to the dust and disorder which surrounded it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the back of the room was an open wardrobe, filled with gay-colored
+      garments. A beautiful carpet of brilliant colors covered the middle of the
+      dirty floor, and upon this paced to and fro the strange occupant of this
+      strange room, Philip Charles Moritz, conrector of the college attached to
+      the Gray Monastery. There was no trace of the bearing and demeanor which
+      distinguished him at the parade at Potsdam yesterday&mdash;no trace of the
+      young elegant, dressed in the latest fashion. To-day he wore a white
+      garment, of no particular style, tied at the neck with a red ribbon (full
+      sleeves, buttoned at the wrist with lace-cuffs); and, falling from the
+      shoulders in scanty folds to just below the knees, it displayed his bare
+      legs, and his feet shod with red sandals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His hair was unpowdered, and not tied in a cue, according to the fashion,
+      but hung in its natural brown color, flowing quite loosely, merely
+      confined by a red ribbon wound in among his curls, and hanging down in
+      short bows at each temple like the frontlet of the old Romans. Thus, in
+      this singular costume, belonging half to old Adam, and half to the old
+      Romans, Philip Moritz walked back and forth upon the carpet, ruminating
+      upon the beaming beauty of the stranger whose acquaintance he had so
+      recently made, and whom he could not banish from his thoughts. &ldquo;What
+      wicked demon induced me to go to Potsdam yesterday?&rdquo; said he to himself.
+      &ldquo;I who hate mankind, and believe that they are all of vulgar, ordinary
+      material, yield to the longing for society, and am driven again into the
+      world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A loud knocking at the door interrupted this soliloquy, and the door
+      opened at the commanding &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is he, it is Apollo,&rdquo; cried Moritz, joyfully. &ldquo;Come in, sir, come in&mdash;I
+      have awaited you with the most ardent desire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Moritz rushed to the young gentleman, who had just closed the door, and
+      whose beautiful, proud face lighted up with a smile at the singular
+      apparition before him. &ldquo;Pardon me, I disturb you, sir; you were about to
+      make your toilet. Permit me to return after you have dressed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mistaken,&rdquo; cried Moritz, eagerly. &ldquo;You find me in my usual
+      home-dress&mdash;I like my ease and freedom, and I am of opinion that
+      mankind will never be happy and contented until they return to their
+      natural state, wearing no more clothing, but glorying in the beauty which
+      bountiful Nature has bestowed upon her most loved and chosen subjects.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; cried the other, laughing, &ldquo;then benevolent Nature should adapt her
+      climate accordingly, and relieve her dear creatures from the inclination
+      to take cold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may be right,&rdquo; said Moritz, earnestly, &ldquo;but we will not quarrel about
+      it. Will you not keep your promise to reveal to me your name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me your own once more. Tell me if this youth, whom I see before me
+      in this ideal dress, is the same modest young man whom I met at the parade
+      yesterday, and who presented himself as Philip Moritz? Then please to
+      inform me whether you are the Philip Moritz who wrote a spirited and
+      cordial letter to Johann Wolfgang Goethe some years since about the
+      tragedy of &lsquo;Stella,&rsquo; the representation of which had been forbidden at
+      that time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am the same Philip Moritz, who wrote to the poet Goethe to prove
+      to him, with the most heart-felt sympathy, that we are not all such stupid
+      fellows in Berlin as Nicolai, who pronounced the tragedy &lsquo;Stella&rsquo; immoral;
+      that it is only, as Goethe himself called it, &lsquo;a play for lovers.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And will you not be kind enough to tell me what response the poet made to
+      your amiable letter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Proud and amiable at the same time, most gracefully he answered me, but
+      not with words. He sent me his tragedy &lsquo;Stella&rsquo; bound in rose-colored
+      satin. <i>[Footnote: &ldquo;Goethe in Berlin,&rdquo;&mdash;Sketches from his life at
+      the anniversary of his one hundredth birthday.]</i> See there! it is
+      before the bust of Apollo on my writing-table, where it has lain for three
+      years!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he write to you at the same time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing&mdash;why should he? Was not the book sufficient answer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he write nothing? Permit me to say to you that Goethe behaved like a
+      brute and an ass to you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; cried Moritz, angrily, &ldquo;I forbid you to speak of my favorite in so
+      unbecoming a manner in my room!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; cried the other, &ldquo;you dare not forbid me. I insist upon it that
+      that man is sometimes a brute and an ass! I can penitently acknowledge it
+      to you, dear Moritz, for I am Johann Wolfgang Goethe himself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, you are Goethe!&rdquo; shouted Moritz, as he seized him with both hands,
+      drawing him toward the window, and gazing at him with the greatest
+      enthusiasm and delight. &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; he shouted, &ldquo;you are either Apollo or
+      Goethe! The gods are not so stupid as to return to this miserable world,
+      so you must be Goethe. No other man would dare to sport such a godlike
+      face as you do, you favorite of the gods!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He then loosed his hold upon the smiling poet, and sprang to the
+      writing-table. &ldquo;Listen, Apollo,&rdquo; he cried, with wild joy. &ldquo;Goethe is here,
+      thy dear son is here! Hurrah! long live Goethe!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took the rose-colored little book, and shouting tossed it to the
+      ceiling, and sprang about like a mad bacchant, and finally threw himself
+      upon the carpet, rolling over and over like a frolicksome, good-natured
+      child upon its nurse&rsquo;s lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe laughed aloud. &ldquo;What are you doing, dear Moritz? What does this
+      mean?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Moritz stopped a moment, looking up to Goethe with a face beaming with
+      joy. &ldquo;I cannot better express my happiness. Language is too feeble&mdash;too
+      poor!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that is the case, then I will join you,&rdquo; said Goethe, throwing himself
+      upon the carpet, rolling and tumbling about. <i>[Footnote: This scene
+      which I relate, and which Teichman also mentions in his &ldquo;Leaves of Memory
+      of Goethe in Berlin,&rdquo; has been often related to me by Ludwig Tieck exactly
+      in this manner. Teichman believes it was the poet Burman. But I remember
+      distinctly that Ludwig Tieck told me that it was the eccentric savant,
+      Philip Moritz, with whom Goethe made the acquaintance in this original
+      manner.&mdash;The Authoress.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All at once Moritz jumped up without saying a word, rushed to the
+      wardrobe, dressed himself in modest attire in a few moments, and presented
+      himself to Goethe, who rose from the carpet quite astounded at the sudden
+      metamorphosis. Then he seized his three-cornered hat to go out, when
+      Goethe held him fast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not going into the street, sir! You forget that your hair is
+      flying about as if unloosed by a divine madness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, people are quite accustomed to see me in a strange costume, and the
+      most of them think me crazy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are aware that insane people believe that they only are sane, and
+      that reasonable people are insane. You will grant me that it is much more
+      like a crazy person to strew his hair with flour, and tie it up in that
+      ridiculous cue, than to wear it as God made it, uncombed and unparted, as
+      I do my beautiful hair, and for which they call me crazy! But, for
+      Heaven&rsquo;s sake, where are you going?&rdquo; asked Goethe, struggling to retain
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to trumpet through every street in Berlin that the author of
+      &lsquo;Werther,&rsquo; of &lsquo;Clavigo,&rsquo; of &lsquo;Gotz von Berlichingen,&rsquo; of &lsquo;Stella,&rsquo; of the
+      most beautiful poems, is in my humble apartment. I will call in all the
+      little poets and savants of Berlin; I will drag Mammler, Nicolai, Engel,
+      Spaulding, Gedicke, Plumicke, Karschin, and Burman here. They shall all
+      come to see Wolfgang Goethe, and adore him. The insignificant poets shall
+      pay homage to thee, the true poet, the favorite of Apollo.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Moritz, if you leave me for that, I will run away, and you will
+      trouble yourself in vain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible; you will be my prisoner until I return. I shall lock you in,
+      and you cannot escape by the window, as I fortunately live on the third
+      story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I shall not wait to be looked in,&rdquo; answered Goethe, slightly annoyed.
+      &ldquo;I came to see you, and if you run away I shall go also, and I advise you
+      not to try to prevent me.&rdquo; His voice resounded through the apartment,
+      growing louder as he spoke, his cheeks flushed, and his high, commanding
+      brow contracted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jupiter Tonans!&rdquo; cried Moritz, regarding him, &ldquo;you are truly Jupiter
+      Tonans in person, and I bow before you and obey your command. I shall
+      remain to worship you, and gaze at you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it may be possible to speak in a reasonable manner to me,&rdquo; said
+      Goethe, coaxingly. &ldquo;Away with sentimentality and odors of incense! We are
+      no sybarites, to feed on sweet-meats and cakes; but we are men who have a
+      noble aim in view, attained only by a thorny path. Our eyes must remain
+      fixed upon the goal, and nothing must divert them from it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the aim that we should strive for?&rdquo; asked Moritz, his whole being
+      suddenly changing, and his manner expressing the greatest depression and
+      sadness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe smiled. &ldquo;How can you ask, as if you did not know it yourself.
+      Self-knowledge should be our first aim! The ancient philosophers were wise
+      to have inscribed over the entrances to their temples, &lsquo;Know thyself,&rsquo; in
+      order to remind all approaching, to examine themselves before they entered
+      the halls of the gods. Is not the human heart equally a temple? only the
+      demons and the gods strive together therein, unfortunately. To drive the
+      former out, and give place to the latter, should be our aim; and when once
+      purified, and room is given for good deeds and great achievements, we
+      shall not rest satisfied simply to conquer, but rise with gladness to
+      build altars upon those places which we have freed from the demons; for
+      that, we must steadily keep in view truth and reality, and not hide them
+      with a black veil, or array them in party-colored rags. Our ideas must be
+      clear about the consequences of things, that we may not be like those
+      foolish men who drink wine every evening and complain of headache every
+      morning, resorting to preventives.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Did Goethe know the struggles and dissensions which rent the heart of the
+      young man to whom he spoke? Had his searching eyes read the secrets which
+      were hidden in that darkened soul? He regarded him as he spoke with so
+      much commiseration that Moritz&rsquo;s heart softened under the genial influence
+      of sympathy and kindness. A convulsive trembling seized him, his cheeks
+      were burning red, and his features expressed the struggle within. Suddenly
+      he burst into tears. &ldquo;I am very, very wretched,&rdquo; he sighed, with a voice
+      suffocated by weeping, and sank upon a chair, sobbing aloud, and covering
+      his face with his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe approached him, and laid his hand gently upon his shoulder. &ldquo;Why
+      are you so miserable? Is there any human being who can help you?&rdquo; he
+      kindly inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; sobbed Moritz; &ldquo;there are those who could, but they will not, and I
+      am lost. I stand upon the brink of a precipice, with Insanity staring at
+      me, grinning and showing her teeth. I know it, but cannot retreat. I wear
+      the mask of madness to conceal my careworn face. Your divine eyes could
+      not be deceived. You have not mistaken the caricature for the true face.
+      You have penetrated beneath the gay tatters, and have seen the misery
+      which sought to hide itself there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw it, and I bewailed it, as a friend pities a friend whom he would
+      willingly aid if he only knew how to do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one can help me,&rdquo; sighed Moritz, shaking his head mournfully. &ldquo;I am
+      lost, irremediably lost!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one is lost who will save himself. He who is wrecked by a storm and
+      tossed upon the raging sea, ought to be upon the watch for a plank by
+      which he can save himself. He must keep his eyes open, and not let his
+      arms hang idly; for if he allows himself to be swallowed up he becomes a
+      self-murderer, who, like Erostratus, destroyed the holy temple, and gained
+      eternal fame through eternal shame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you saying?&rdquo; cried Moritz, &ldquo;you, the author of &lsquo;Werther,&rsquo; of
+      that immortal work which has drunk the tears of the whole world, and has
+      become the Holy Testament for unhappy souls!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rather say for lovers,&rdquo; replied Goethe, &ldquo;and add also those troubled
+      spirits who think themselves poetical when they whine and howl; who cry
+      over misfortune if Fate denies them the toy which their vanity, their
+      ambition, or their amorousness, had chosen. Do not burden me with what I
+      am not guilty of; do not say that wine is a poison, because it is not good
+      for the sick. It is intended for well people; it animates and inspires
+      them to fresh vigor. Now please to consider yourself well, and not ill.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am ill, indeed I am ill,&rdquo; sighed Moritz. &ldquo;Oh! continue to regard me
+      with those eyes, which shine like stars into my benighted soul. I feel
+      like one who has long wandered through the desert, his feet burnt with the
+      sand, his hair scorched with the sun, and, exhausted with hunger and
+      thirst, feels death approaching. Suddenly he discovers a green oasis, and
+      a being with outstretched arms calling to him with a soft, angel-like
+      voice: &lsquo;Come, save thyself in my arms; feel that thou art not alone in the
+      desert, for I am with thee, and will sustain thee!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I say it to you from the bottom of my heart,&rdquo; said Goethe,
+      affectionately. &ldquo;Yes, here is one, who is only too happy to aid you, who
+      can sympathize with every sorrow, because he has himself felt it in his
+      own breast, who may even say of himself, like Ovid: &lsquo;Nothing human is
+      strange to me.&rsquo; If I can aid you, say so, and I will willingly do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you cannot,&rdquo; murmured Moritz.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least confide your grief to me; that is an alleviation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, how kind and generous you are!&rdquo; Moritz said, pressing the hand of his
+      new-made friend to his bosom. &ldquo;How much good it does me to listen to you,
+      and look at your beautiful face! I believed myself steeled against every
+      thing that could happen to mortals; that the fool which I would be had
+      killed within me the higher man. I was almost proud to have succeeded in
+      deceiving men; that they mistook my grotesque mask for my real face; that
+      they point the finger at me, and laugh, saying to each other: &lsquo;That is a
+      fool, an original, whom Nature herself has chosen as a kind of court fool
+      to society.&rsquo; No one has understood the cry of distress of my soul. Those
+      who laughed at the comical fellow by day, little dreamed of the anguish
+      and misery in which he sighed away the night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You not only wrong yourself, but you wrong mankind,&rdquo; said Goethe, kindly.
+      &ldquo;In the world, and in literature, you bear an honored name; every one of
+      education is familiar with your excellent work on &lsquo;Prosody of the German
+      Language&rsquo;&mdash;has read also your spirited Journey to England. You have
+      no right to ask that one should separate the kernel from the shell in
+      hastily passing by. If you surround yourself with a wall bedaubed with
+      caricatures, you cannot expect that people will look behind what seems an
+      entrance to a puppet-show, to find holy temples, blooming gardens, or a
+      church-yard filled with graves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is just what I resemble,&rdquo; said Moritz, with a melancholy air. &ldquo;From
+      the depths of my soul it seems so. Nothing but buried hopes, murdered
+      ideals, and wishes trodden under foot. From childhood I have exerted
+      myself against circumstances; I have striven my whole life&mdash;a pledge
+      of my being against unpropitious Fate. Although the son of a poor
+      tradesman, Nature had given me a thirst for knowledge, a love for science
+      and art. On account of it I passed for a stupid idler in the family, who
+      would not contribute to his own support. Occupation with books was
+      accounted idleness and laziness by my father. I was driven to work with
+      blows and ill-treatment; and, that I might the sooner equal my father as a
+      good shoemaker, I was bound to the stool near his own. During the long,
+      fearful days I was forced to sit and draw the pitched, offensive thread
+      through the leather, and when my arms were lame, and sank weary at my
+      side, then I was invigorated to renewed exertion with blows. Finally, with
+      the courage of despair, I fled from this life of torture. Unacquainted
+      with the world, and inexperienced, I hoped for the sympathy of men, but in
+      vain. No one would relieve or assist me! Days and weeks long I have
+      wandered around in the forest adjoining our little village, and lived like
+      the animals, upon roots and herbs. Yet I was happy! I had taken with me in
+      my flight two books which I had received as prizes, in the happy days that
+      my father permitted me to go to the Latin school. The decision of the
+      teacher that I was created for a scholar, so terrified my father, that he
+      took me from the school, to turn the embryo savant, who would be good for
+      nothing, into a shoemaker, who might earn his bread. My two darling books
+      remained to me. In the forest solitude I read Ovid and Virgil until I had
+      memorized them, and recited them aloud, in pathetic tones, for my own
+      amusement. To-day I recall those weeks in the forest stillness as the
+      happiest, purest, and most beautiful of my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And they undoubtedly are,&rdquo; said Goethe, kindly. &ldquo;The return to Nature is
+      the return to one&rsquo;s self. Who will be an able, vigorous man and remain so,
+      must, above all things, live in and with Nature.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But oh! this happy life did not long continue,&rdquo; sighed Moritz. &ldquo;My father
+      discovered my retreat, and came with sheriffs and bailiffs to seize me
+      like a criminal&mdash;like a wild animal. With my hands bound, I was
+      brought back in broad day, amid the jeers of street boys. Permit me to
+      pass in silence the degradation, the torture which followed. I became a
+      burden to myself, and longed for death. The ill-treatment of my father
+      finally revived my courage to run away the second time. I went to a large
+      town near by, and decided to earn my living rather than return to my
+      father. To fulfil the prophecy of my teacher was my ambition. The
+      privations that I endured, the life I led, I will not recount to you. I
+      performed the most menial service, and worked months like a beast of
+      burden. For want of a shelter, I slept in deserted yards and tumble-down
+      houses. Upon a piece of bread and a drink of water I lived, saving, with
+      miserly greediness, the money which I earned as messenger or day-laborer.
+      At the end of a year, I had earned sufficient to buy an old suit of
+      clothes at a second-hand clothing-store, and present myself to the
+      director of the Gymnasium, imploring him to receive me as pupil. Bitterly
+      weeping, I opened my heart to him, and disclosed the torture of my sad
+      life as a child, and begged him to give me the opportunity to educate
+      myself. He repulsed me with scorn, and threatened to give me over to the
+      police, as a runaway, as a vagabond, and beggar. &lsquo;I am no beggar!&rsquo; I
+      cried, vehemently, &lsquo;I will be under obligation to no one. I have money to
+      pay for two years in advance, and during this time I shall be able to earn
+      sufficient to pay for the succeeding two years.&rsquo; This softened the anger
+      of the crabbed director; he was friendly and kind, and promised me his
+      assistance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor boy!&rdquo; sighed Goethe. &ldquo;So young, and yet forced to learn that there
+      is a power to which not only kings and princes, but mind must bow; to
+      which science and art have submitted, as to their Maecenas! This power
+      opened the doors of the Gymnasium to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was even thus. The director took pity upon me, and permitted me to
+      enter upon my studies at once; he did more, he assured my future. Oh, he
+      was a humane and kind man! When he learned that I possessed nothing but
+      the little sum to which the drops of blood of a year&rsquo;s toil still clung,
+      then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He returned it to you,&rdquo; interrupted Goethe, kindly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he offered me board, lodging, and clothing, during my course at the
+      Gymnasium.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was well,&rdquo; cried Goethe. &ldquo;Tell me the name of this honorable man,
+      that I may meet him and extend to him my hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A troubled smile spread over Philip&rsquo;s face. &ldquo;Permit me for the time being
+      to conceal the name,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;I received the generous proposal
+      gratefully, and asked, deeply moved, if there were no services which I
+      could return for so much kindness and generosity. It proved that there
+      were, and the director made them known to me. He was unmarried, hence the
+      necessity of men&rsquo;s service. I should be society for him&mdash;be a
+      companion, in fact; I should do what every grateful son would do for his
+      father&mdash;help him dress, keep his room in order, and prepare his
+      breakfast.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That meant that you should be his servant!&rdquo; cried Goethe, indignant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only in the morning,&rdquo; replied Moritz, smiling. &ldquo;Evenings and nights I
+      should have the honor to be his amanuensis; I should look over the studies
+      of the scholars, and correct their exercises; and when I had made
+      sufficient progress, it should be my duty to give two hours to different
+      classes, and I should read aloud or play cards with the director on
+      leisure evenings. Besides, I was obliged to promise never to leave the
+      house without his permission; never to speak to, or hold intercourse with,
+      any one outside the hours of instruction. All these conditions were
+      written down, and signed by both parties, as if a business contract.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A transaction by which a human soul was bargained for!&rdquo; thundered Goethe.
+      &ldquo;Reveal to me, now, the name of this trader of souls, that I may expose
+      him to public shame!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He died a year since,&rdquo; replied Moritz, softened. &ldquo;God summoned him to
+      judgment. When the physician announced to him that the cancer was
+      incurable, when he felt death approaching, he sent for me, and begged my
+      forgiveness, with tears and deep contrition. I forgave him, so let me
+      cease to recall the life I passed with him. By the sweat of my brow I was
+      compelled to serve him; for seven long years I was his slave. I sold
+      myself for the sake of knowledge, I was consoled by progress. I was the
+      servant, companion, jester, and slave of my tyrant, but I was also the
+      disciple, the priest of learning. In my own room my chains fell off. In
+      the lonely night-watches I communed with the great, the immortal spirits
+      of Horace, Virgil, and even the proud Caesar, and the divine Homer. Those
+      solitary but happy hours of the night are never to be forgotten, never to
+      be portrayed; they refreshed me for the trials of the day, and enabled me
+      to endure them! At the close of seven years I was prepared to enter the
+      university, and the bargain between my master and myself was also at an
+      end. Freed from my tyrant, I bent my steps toward Frankfort University, to
+      feel my liberty enchained anew. For seven years I had been the slave of
+      the director; now I became the slave of poverty, forced to labor to live!
+      Oh, I cannot recall those scenes! Suffice it to say, that during one year
+      I had no fixed abode, never tasted warm food. But it is passed&mdash;I
+      have conquered! After years of struggle, of exertion, of silent misery,
+      only relieved by my stolen hours of blissful study, I gained my reward. I
+      was free! My examination passed, I was honored with the degrees of Doctor
+      of Philosophy and Master of Arts. After many intervening events, I was
+      appointed conrector of the college attached to the Gray Monastery, which
+      position now supports me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God be praised, I breathe freely!&rdquo; answered Goethe, with one of those
+      sunny smiles which, in a moment of joyful excitement, lighted up his face.
+      &ldquo;I feel like one shipwrecked, who has, at last, reached a safe harbor. I
+      rejoice in your rescue as if it were my own. Now you are safe. You have
+      reached the port, and in the quiet happiness of your own library you will
+      win new laurels. Why, then, still dispirited and unhappy? The past, with
+      its sorrows and humiliations, is forgotten, the present is satisfactory,
+      and the future is full of hope for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Full of misery is the present,&rdquo; cried Philip, angrily, &ldquo;and filled with
+      despair I glance at the future. You do not see it with your divine eyes,
+      you do not perceive it, poet with the sympathetic soul. You, too, thought
+      that Philip Moritz had only a head for the sciences, and forgot that he
+      had a heart to love. I tell you that he has a warm, affectionate heart,
+      torn with grief and all the tortures of jealousy; that disappointed
+      happiness maddens him. I was not created to be happy, and my whole being
+      longs for happiness. Oh! I would willingly give my life for one day by the
+      side of the one I love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not trifle,&rdquo; said Goethe, angrily. &ldquo;He who has striven and struggled
+      as you have, dare not offer, for any woman, however beautiful and
+      seductive, to yield his life, which has been destined to a higher aim than
+      mere success in love. Perhaps you think that God has infused a ray of His
+      intelligence into the mind of man, created him immortal, and breathed upon
+      him with His world-creating breath only, to make him happy, and find that
+      happiness in love! No! my friend, God has given to man like faculties with
+      Himself, and inspired him, that he might be a worthy representative of Him
+      upon the earth; that he should prove, in his life, that he is not only the
+      blossom, but the fruit also, of God&rsquo;s creation. Love is to man the perfume
+      of his existence. She may intoxicate him for a while, may inspire him to
+      poetical effusions, to great deeds, even; but he should hesitate to let
+      her become his mistress, to let her be the tyrant of his existence. If she
+      would enchain him, he must tear himself away, even if he tear out his own
+      heart. Man possesses that which is more ennobling than mere feeling; he
+      has intellect&mdash;soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; cried Moritz, &ldquo;it is easy to see that you have never loved madly,
+      despairingly. You have never seen the woman whom you adore, and who
+      perhaps reciprocates your passion, forced to marry another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A shadow flitted over Goethe&rsquo;s brow, and the flashing brilliancy of his
+      eyes was changed to gloomy sadness. Gently, but quickly, he laid his hand
+      upon Moritz&rsquo;s shoulder, saying: &ldquo;In this hour, when two souls are revealed
+      to each other, will I acknowledge to you that which I have never spoken
+      of. I, too, love a woman, who loves me, and yet can never be mine, for she
+      is married to another. I love this sweet woman as I have never loved a
+      mortal being. For years my existence has belonged to her, she has been the
+      centre of all my thoughts. It would seem to me as if the earth were
+      without a sun, heaven without a God, if she should vanish from life. I
+      even bless the torture which her prudery, her alternate coldness and
+      friendliness cause me, as it comes from her, from the highest bliss of
+      feeling. This passion has swept through my soul, as if uniting in itself
+      all my youthful loves, till, like a torrent, ever renewing itself, ever
+      moving onward, it has become the highway of my future. Upon this stream
+      floats the bark laden with all my happiness, fame, and poetry. The palaces
+      which my fancy creates rise upon its shore. Every zephyr, however slight,
+      makes me tremble. Every cloud which overshadows the brow of my beloved,
+      sweeps like a tempest over my own. I live upon her smile. A kind word
+      falling from her lips makes me happy for days; and when she turns away
+      from me with coldness and indifference, I feel like one driven about as
+      Orestes by the Furies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You really are in love!&rdquo; cried Moritz. &ldquo;I will take back what I have
+      said. You, the chosen of the gods, know all the human heart can suffer,
+      even unhappy love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost angry, and with hesitation, Goethe answered him: &ldquo;I do not call
+      this passion of mine an unhappy one, for in the very perception of it lies
+      happiness. We are only wretched when we lose self-control. To this point
+      Love shall never lead me. She yields me the highest delight, but she shall
+      never bring me to self-destruction. Grief for her may, like a destructive
+      whirlwind, crush every blossom of my heart; but she shall never destroy
+      me. The man, the poet, must stand higher than the lover; for where the
+      latter is about to yield to despair, the former will rise, and, with the
+      defiance of Prometheus, challenge the gods to recognize the godlike
+      similitude, that man can rise superior to sorrow, never despairing, never
+      cursing Fate if all the rosy dreams of youth are not realities, but with
+      upturned gaze stride over the waste places of life, consoling himself with
+      the thought that only magnanimous souls can suffer and conquer
+      magnanimously. Vanquished grief brings us nearer to the immortal, and
+      gradually bears us from this vale of sorrow up to the brighter heights,
+      nearer to God&mdash;the earth with her petty confusion lying like a
+      worthless tool at our feet!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is heavenly to be able to say that, and divine to perceive it,&rdquo; cried
+      Moritz, bursting into tears. &ldquo;The miseries of life chain me to the dust,
+      and do not permit me to mount to the heights which a hero like Goethe
+      reaches victorious. It is indeed sublime to conquer one&rsquo;s self, and be
+      willing to resign the happiness which flees us. But see how weak I am&mdash;I
+      cannot do it! I can never give up the one I love. It seems as if I could
+      move heaven and earth to conquer at last, and that I must die if I do not
+      succeed&mdash;die like Werther.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe&rsquo;s eyes flashed with anger, and with heightened color he exclaimed:
+      &ldquo;You all repeat the same litany&mdash;do not make me answerable for all
+      your weaknesses, and blame poor Werther for the creations of your own
+      imagination. I, who am the author of Werther, am free from this abominable
+      sentimentality. Why cannot others be, who only read what I have conceived?
+      But pardon my violence,&rdquo; he continued, with a milder voice and gentler
+      manner. &ldquo;Never did an author create a work which brought him at the same
+      time so great fame and bitter reproach as this work has brought to me.
+      &lsquo;The Sorrows of Young Werther&rsquo; have indeed been transformed into the
+      sorrows of young Goethe, and I even fear that old Goethe will have to
+      suffer for it. I have spoken to you as a friend to a friend: cherish my
+      words, take them to heart, and arise from the dust; shake off the
+      self-strewn ashes from your head. Enter again as a brave champion the
+      combat of life&mdash;summon to your aid cunning, power, prudence, and
+      audacity, to conquer your love. Whether you succeed or not, then you aim
+      at the greatest of battles&mdash;that of mind over matter&mdash;then
+      remember my farewell words. From the power which binds all men he frees
+      himself who conquers himself.&mdash;Farewell! If ever you need the
+      encouragement of a friend, if ever a sympathizing soul is necessary to
+      you, come to Weimar; sympathy and appreciation shall never fail you
+      there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! I will surely go,&rdquo; answered Moritz, deeply moved, and pressing
+      heartily Goethe&rsquo;s offered hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One thing more I have to say to you: Live much with Nature; accustom
+      yourself to regard the sparrow, the flower, or the stone, as worthy of
+      your attention as the wonderful phoenix or the monuments of the ancients
+      with their illegible inscriptions. To walk with Nature is balsam for a
+      weary soul; gently touched by her soft hands, the recovery is most rapid.
+      I have experienced it, and do experience it daily. Now, once more,
+      farewell; in the true sense of the word fare-thee-well! I wish that I
+      could help you in other ways than by mere kind words. It pains me indeed
+      that I can render you no other aid or hope. You alone can do what none
+      other can do for you.&mdash;Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned, and motioning to Moritz not to follow him, almost flew down the
+      stairs into the street. Drawing a long breath, he stood leaning against
+      the door, gazing at the crowd&mdash;at the busy passers-by&mdash;some
+      merrily chatting with their companions, others with earnest mien and in
+      busy haste. No one seemed to care for him, no one looked at him. If by
+      chance they glanced at him, Johann Wolfgang Goethe was of no more
+      consequence to them than any other honest citizen in a neighboring
+      doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Without perhaps acknowledging it to himself, Goethe was a little vexed
+      that no one observed him; that the weather-maker from Weimar, who was
+      accustomed to be greeted there, and everywhere, indeed, with smiles and
+      bows, should here in Berlin be only an ordinary mortal&mdash;a stranger
+      among strangers. &ldquo;I would not live here,&rdquo; said he, as he walked slowly
+      down the street. &ldquo;What are men in great cities but grains of sand, now
+      blown together and then asunder? There is no individuality, one is only a
+      unit in the mass! But it is well occasionally to look into such a
+      kaleidoscope, and admire the play of colors, which I have done, and with a
+      glad heart I will now fly home to all my friends&mdash;to you, beloved one&mdash;to
+      you, Charlotte!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine Enke had passed the day in great anxiety and excitement, and
+      not even the distraction of her new possession had been able to calm the
+      beating of her heart or allay her fears. Prince Frederick William had
+      arrived early in the morning, to bid her farewell, as he was to march in
+      the course of the day with his regiments from Potsdam. With the tenderest
+      assurances of love he took leave of Wilhelmine, and with tears kissed his
+      two children, pressing them to his heart. As he was about to enter his
+      carriage he returned to the house to embrace his weeping mistress, and
+      reassure her of his fidelity, and make her promise him again and again
+      that she would remain true to him, and never love another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not alone the farewell to her beloved prince which caused
+      Wilhelmine such anxiety and made her so restless. Like a dark cloud the
+      remembrance of Cagliostro&rsquo;s mysterious appearance arose in her mind,
+      overshadowing her every hour more and more, filling her soul with terror.
+      In vain did she seek refuge near her children, trying to cheer and forget
+      herself in their innocent amusement&mdash;one moment running about the
+      garden with them, then returning to the house to reexamine it. Her
+      thoughts would revert to Cagliostro, and the solemnities which were to
+      take place at her house that night. The thought terrified her that at
+      nightfall she was obliged to send away all her servants, and not even be
+      permitted to lock herself in the lonely, deserted house. For the great
+      magician had commanded her to let the doors of her house stand open; he
+      would place sentinels at every entrance, and none but the elect would be
+      allowed to enter. Wilhelmine had not the courage to resist this command.
+      As evening approached, she sent the cook, with other servants, to her
+      apartment at Berlin, ordering them to pack her furniture and other
+      effects, and send them by a hired wagon to Charlottenburg the following
+      morning. An hour previous to this she had sent the nurse and two children
+      to Potsdam with a similar commission, ordering them to return early the
+      next day. Alone she now awaited with feverish anxiety Cagliostro&rsquo;s
+      appearance. Again and again she wandered through the silent, deserted
+      rooms frightened at the sound of her own footsteps, and peering into each
+      room as if an assassin or robber were lurking there. She had many enemies&mdash;many
+      there were who cursed her, and, alas! none loved her&mdash;she was
+      friendless, save the prince, who was far away. The tears which the
+      princess had shed on her account weighed like a heavy burden upon her
+      heart, burning into her very soul in this hour of lonely, sad
+      retrospection. She tried in vain to excuse herself, in the fact that she
+      had loved the prince before his marriage; that she had sacrificed herself
+      to him through affection, and that she was not entitled to become his
+      wife, as she was not born under the canopy of a throne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the depths of her conscience there again rose the tearful, sad face
+      of the princess, accusing her as an adulteress&mdash;as a sinner before
+      God and man! Terrified, she cried: &ldquo;I have truly loved him, and I do still
+      love him; this is my excuse and my justification. She is not to be pitied
+      who can walk openly by the side of her husband, enjoying the respect and
+      sympathy of all to whom homage is paid, and who, one day, will be queen! I
+      am the only one, I alone! I stand in the shade, despised and scorned,
+      avoided and shunned by every one. Those who recognize me, do so with a
+      mocking smile, and when I pass by they contemptuously shrug their
+      shoulders and say to one another, &lsquo;That was Enke, the mistress of the
+      Prince of Prussia!&rsquo; All this shall be changed,&rdquo; she cried aloud; &ldquo;I will
+      not always be despised and degraded! I will be revenged on my crushed and
+      scorned youth! I will have rank and name, honor and position, that I will&mdash;yes,
+      that I will, indeed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine wandered on through the silent rooms, all brilliantly
+      illuminated, a precaution she had taken before dismissing her servants.
+      The bright light was a consolation to her, and, at least, she could not be
+      attacked by surprise, but see her enemy, and escape. &ldquo;I was a fool,&rdquo; she
+      murmured, &ldquo;to grant Cagliostro this reception to-night. I know that he is
+      a charlatan! There are no prophets or wizards! Yet, well I remember,
+      though a stranger to me, in Paris, how truthfully he brought before me my
+      past life; with what marvellous exactness he revealed to me secrets known
+      only to my Maker and myself. Cagliostro must be a wizard, then, or a
+      prophet; he has wonderful power over me also, and reads my most secret
+      thoughts. He will assist me to rise from my shame and degradation to an
+      honored position. I shall become a rich and influential woman! I will
+      confide in him, never doubting him&mdash;for he is my master and savior!
+      Away with fear! He has said that the house should be guarded, and it will
+      be! Onward then, Wilhelmine, without fear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She hastened to the large drawing-room, in order to see the effect of the
+      numerous wax-lights in the superb chandeliers of rock crystal. The great
+      folding-doors resisted all her efforts to open them. &ldquo;Who is there?&rdquo; cried
+      a loud, threatening voice. Trembling and with beating heart Wilhelmine
+      leaned against the door, giddy with fear, when a second demand, &ldquo;Who is
+      there? The watchword! No one can pass without the countersign!&rdquo; roused
+      her, and she stole back on tiptoe to her room. &ldquo;He has kept his word, the
+      doors are guarded!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;I will go and await him in my
+      sitting-room.&rdquo; She stepped quickly forward, when suddenly she thought she
+      heard footsteps stealing behind her; turning, she beheld two men wrapped
+      in black cloaks, with black masks, stealthily creeping after her.
+      Wilhelmine shrieked with terror, tore open the door, rushed across the
+      next room into her own boudoir. As she entered a glance revealed to her
+      that the two masks approached nearer and nearer. She bolted the door
+      quickly, sinking to the floor with fright and exhaustion. &ldquo;What are they
+      going to do? Will they force open the door and murder me? How foolish, how
+      fearfully foolish to have sent away all my servants. Now I understand it:
+      Cagliostro is not only an impostor&mdash;a charlatan, but he is a thief
+      and an assassin. I have been caught in the trap set for me, like a
+      credulous fool! He and his associates will rob me and plunder my beautiful
+      villa, but just given to me, and, when they have secured all, murder me to
+      escape betrayal.&rdquo; With deep contrition, weeping and trembling, Wilhelmine
+      accused herself of her credulity and folly. For the first time in her life
+      she was dismayed and cowardly, for it was the first time that she had had
+      to tremble for her possessions. It was something so new, so unaccustomed
+      to her to possess any thing, that it made her anxious, and she feared, as
+      in the fairy tale, that it would dissolve into nothing. By degrees her
+      presence of mind and equanimity were restored. The stillness was unbroken&mdash;and
+      no one forced the door, to murder the mistress of this costly possession.
+      Gathering courage, she rose softly and stole to the window. The moon shone
+      brightly and clearly. The house stood sideways to the street, and
+      separated from it, first by thick shrubbery, and then a trellised lawn.
+      Whoever would enter, directly turned into a path leading from the street
+      into the shrubbery. Just upon this walk, Wilhelmine perceived masked men
+      approaching, one by one, as in a procession&mdash;slowly, silently moving
+      on, until they neared the gate of the trellised square, where two tall,
+      dark forms were stationed to demand the countersign, which being given,
+      they passed over the lawn into the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will take courage; he has told me the truth, the house is well
+      guarded,&rdquo; murmured Wilhelmine. &ldquo;None but the summoned can enter; I belong
+      to the number, and when it is time Cagliostro will come and fetch me.
+      Until then, let me await quietly the result,&rdquo; said she, as she stretched
+      herself comfortably upon the sofa, laughing at her former cowardice and
+      terror. &ldquo;No one can enter this room unless I open the door, and
+      fortunately there is but one exit. The wizard himself could not gain
+      admittance unless the walls should open or the bolt drive hack for him.
+      Hark! it strikes eleven, one tedious hour longer to wait. I must try to
+      rest a little.&rdquo; She laid her head upon the cushion, closing her eyes. The
+      calm and the quiet were refreshing after the excitement of the day.
+      Gradually her thoughts became confused&mdash;dim pictures floated past her
+      mental vision, her breathing became shorter, and she slept. The stillness
+      was unbroken, save the clock striking the quarters of every hour. Scarcely
+      had the last quarter to midnight sounded, when the window was softly
+      opened, and a dark form descended into the room. He listened a moment,
+      looking at the sleeping one, who moved not; then extinguished the light,
+      creeping toward the door. Wilhelmine slept on. Suddenly it seemed to her
+      as if sunbeams blinded her, and she started up from a profound sleep. It
+      was indeed no dream. A white form stood before her of dazzling brilliancy,
+      as if formed of sun-rays.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rise and follow me!&rdquo; cried a commanding voice. &ldquo;The Great Kophta commands
+      you. Mask yourself, and, as your life is dear to you, do not raise it for
+      one instant!&rdquo; Wilhelmine took the mask, upon which flickered a little blue
+      flame, and held it close to her face. &ldquo;Pray in spirit, then follow me.&rdquo;
+       Wilhelmine followed without opposition the bright form which moved before
+      her through the dark rooms. She felt as if under the influence of a charm;
+      her heart beat violently, her feet trembled, but still she felt no more
+      wavering or fear; a joyous confidence filled her whole being. With her
+      eyes bent upon the moving form of light, she went onward in the obscurity,
+      and entered the great drawing-room, where profound darkness and silence
+      reigned. A slight murmur, as of those in prayer, fell on her car, and it
+      seemed as if numberless black shadows were moving about. &ldquo;Kneel and pray,&rdquo;
+       whispered a voice near her. Her conductor had disappeared, and the gloom
+      of night surrounded her. Wilhelmine knelt as she was bidden, but she could
+      not pray; breathless expectation and eager curiosity banished all devotion
+      and composure. Occasionally was heard, amid the silence and darkness, a
+      deep sigh, a suppressed groan, or a shriek, which died away in the
+      murmuring of prayer. Suddenly a strange music broke the stillness&mdash;sharp,
+      piercing tones, resonant as bells, and increasing in power, sometimes as
+      rich and full as the peals of an organ, then gentle and soft as the
+      murmuring wind, or a sorrow-laden sigh. Then, human voices joined the
+      music, swelling it to a wonderful and harmonious choir&mdash;to an
+      inspired song of aspiration, Of fervent expectation, and imploring the
+      coming of him who would bring glory and peace, filling the hearts of
+      believers with godliness. The chorus of the Invisibles had not ceased,
+      when a strange blue light began to glimmer at the farther end of the room;
+      then it shot like a flash through the dark space. As their dazzled eyes
+      were again raised, they saw in a kind of halo, in the midst of golden
+      clouds, a tall, dazzling figure, in a long, flowing robe, sparkling with
+      silver. The lovely bust, the beautiful arms and shoulders, were covered
+      with a transparent golden tissue, over which fell the long, curly hair to
+      the waist. A glittering band, sparkling like stars, was wound through the
+      hair, which surrounded a feminine face of surpassing beauty. Perpetual
+      youth glowed upon her full, rosy cheeks; bright intelligence beamed from
+      the clear, lofty brow; peace, joy, and happiness, were revealed in the
+      smile of the red lips; love and passion flashed from the large, brilliant
+      eyes. The choir of the Invisibles now sang in jubilant tones: &ldquo;The eternal
+      Virgin, the everlasting, holy, and pure being, greets the erring, blesses
+      those that seek, causing them to find, and partake with joy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The heavenly woman raised her lovely arms, extending them as if for a
+      tender embrace. A captivating smile lighted up her features; a fiery
+      glance from her beautiful eyes seemed to greet every one, separately, to
+      announce to them joy and hope. While they regarded her entranced with
+      delight, the golden cloud grew denser, and covered the virgin with her
+      luminous veil. It then gradually disappeared, with the golden splendor.
+      The chorus of the Invisibles ceased, and the music died away in gentle
+      murmurs. Upon the spot where the beaming apparition was visible, there now
+      stood a tall priest, in a long, flowing black robe; a pale-blue light
+      surrounded him, and rendered the dark outline distinctly visible by the
+      clear background. Snow-white hair and a black mask made him unrecognizable
+      to every one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Extending his arms, as if blessing them, the masked one cried: &ldquo;My
+      beloved, the unknown fathers of our Holy Order of Rosicrucians send me to
+      you, and command me to salute you with the greeting of life. I am to
+      announce to you that the time of revelation approaches, and that the
+      sublime mysteries of earth and Nature will soon be revealed to you. As the
+      rose is unfolded in her glowing red, which has so long slept in her lap of
+      green leaves, you represent the green leaves, and Nature is the rose. She
+      will disclose herself to you with all her secrets. In her calyx you will
+      find the elixir of life and the secret of gold, if you walk in the path of
+      duty; if you exercise unconditional obedience to the Invisible Fathers; if
+      you submit yourselves in blind confidence to their wisdom; if you swear to
+      abstain from every self-inquiry, and to distrust your own understanding.&rdquo;
+       <i>[Footnote: So run the very words in the laws of the Rosicrucians.&mdash;See
+      &ldquo;New General German Library,&rdquo; vol. lvi., p. 10.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We swear it!&rdquo; cried solemn voices on all sides.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Swear, blindly, silent obedience to all that the Invisible Fathers shall
+      announce to you through their directors, or shall order you under the holy
+      sign of the Rosicrucians by word or writing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We swear it!&rdquo; again resounded in solemn chorus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shame, disgrace, perdition, and destruction, be your curse,&rdquo; thundered
+      the priest, &ldquo;if you deviate in thought even from your oath; if you seek to
+      ponder and reflect; if you measure by your own limited reason the
+      dispositions and operations of the sublime fathers, to whom Nature has
+      revealed herself, and to whom all the secrets of heaven and earth are
+      disclosed. Eternal destruction, and all the tortures of hell and
+      purgatory, be the portion of the doubting! Damned and proscribed be the
+      traitor to the holy order! Listen, ye spirits of the deep, and ye spirits
+      of darkness, withdraw from here in terror, ere the anger of the Invisible
+      Fathers fall upon you like destroying lightning! Open, ye doors, that the
+      wicked may flee, and only the good remain!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a wave of the hand the great folding-doors now opened, and a flood of
+      light from the adjoining apartment revealed the drawingroom to be filled
+      with the dark forms of men enveloped in black cloaks, hoods drawn over the
+      heads, and black masks covering the faces&mdash;all kneeling close
+      together and exactly resembling one another. No one moved, the doors
+      closed again, darkness reigning. The priest was no longer visible, though
+      continuing to speak: &ldquo;Only the good and obedient are now assembled here,
+      and to them I announce that life is to us, and death awaits beyond the
+      door to seize the traitor who would disclose the holy secrets of the
+      order. Be faithful, my brothers, and never forget that there is no place
+      on the earth where the traitor is secure from the avenging sword of the
+      Invisible Fathers. None but the good and obedient being here assembled, I
+      now announce to you that the time of revelation approaches, and that it
+      will come when you are all zealously endeavoring to extend the holy order,
+      and augment the number of brothers. For the extension of the order is
+      nothing less than universal happiness. It emanates alone from the
+      Invisible Fathers, who link heaven to earth and who will open again the
+      lost way to Paradise. The supreme chiefs of our holy order are the rulers
+      of all Nature, reposing in God the Father. <i>[Footnote: The wording of
+      the laws of the Order of the Rosicrucians.&mdash;See &ldquo;New General German
+      Library,&rdquo; vol. M., p. 10.]</i> They are the favorites of God, whom the
+      Trinity thinks worthy of his highest confidence and revelation. If you
+      will take part in the revelations of God, and witness the disclosing of
+      the hidden treasures of Nature, swear that you will be obedient to the
+      holy order, and that you will strive to gain new members.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We swear it,&rdquo; resounded in an inspired chorus through the room. &ldquo;We swear
+      unconditional obedience to the Invisible Fathers. We swear to strive with
+      all our means for the extension of the holy order.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unbelief, free-thinking, and self-knowledge are of the devil, who steals
+      abroad, to turn men from God. The pride of reason seeks to misguide men,
+      and lead them away from God and the secrets of Nature. The devil has
+      chosen his disciples, who teach sinful knowledge and arrogant
+      free-thinking, and who are united in Berlin in the Order of the
+      Illuminati. The Invisible Fathers command you to fight this shameful order
+      in word, deed, and writing. If any of you are acquainted with one of the
+      members, you shall regard him as your most deadly enemy, and shall hate
+      and pursue him as you hate sin and as you pursue crime. You shall flee his
+      intercourse as you would that of the devil, otherwise you will be damned,
+      and the Invisible Fathers never will forgive you, and the secrets of
+      Nature will be withheld from you. Swear therefore hate, persecution, and
+      eternal enmity, to the Order of the Illuminati. This I command you in the
+      name of the Invisible Fathers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We swear it! We swear hate, persecution, and eternal enmity, to the Order
+      of the Illuminati!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every one who belongs to the order is damned and cursed; and if it were
+      your brother or your father, so shall you curse and damn him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We swear it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I bring you the blessing of the Invisible rulers and fathers, who
+      announce to you, through me, that every lost one which you gain for the
+      Order of the Rosicrucians, and consequently lead back to God and Nature,
+      is a step toward entering the holy sanctuary of revelation, where the
+      elixir of life and the tincture of gold awaits you. Every cursed member of
+      the Illuminati becomes one of the blessed when you lead him from the path
+      of vice in penitence and contrition, and gain him to the Order of the
+      Rosicrucians; and he who can prove that he has gained twelve new members
+      for our holy order mounts a round higher in the ladder of knowledge, and
+      rises to a new degree. At the sixth grade he passes from the Inner to the
+      Middle Temple, where all the secrets of the universe and of Nature are
+      disclosed. Be mindful of this, and recruit. Until we meet again, let the
+      watchword be, &lsquo;Curses and persecution for the devil&rsquo;s offspring, the
+      Illuminati!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Curses and persecution for the devil&rsquo;s offspring, the Illuminati, we
+      swear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now depart! Pay your tribute at the door, which you owe, and receive in
+      return the new sign of the order, which will serve to make the brothers
+      known to each other. Only the directors and the members of the sixth grade
+      shall knock again at this door after paying tribute, and, receiving the
+      new word of life, the guard will let them enter. Depart! I dismiss you in
+      the name of the Holy Father and the Trinity!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take this cloak, and cover yourself, that no one can recognize you,&rdquo;
+       whispered a person near Wilhelmine, and threw a soft covering over her.
+      &ldquo;Will you now depart, or seek further in the way of knowledge?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will seek further,&rdquo; answered Wilhelmine, firmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wish to enter the sixth grade, and learn the secrets of Nature?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will give you the watchword of the order. But woe unto you if you
+      reveal it! Swear that you will never betray it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, listen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine felt a hot breath upon her cheek, and a voice whispered in her
+      ear the significant words: &ldquo;Now depart; pay your tribute, you cannot tarry
+      here. Go, and return with the chosen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A hand seized her arm and conducted her to the door. Almost blinded by the
+      bright light, she entered the adjoining apartment, where it seemed as if
+      she saw through a veil muffled figures go forward to the centre, and
+      deposit money in a marble basin which stood upon a kind of altar; naphtha
+      burned in silver basins upon each end of it, and a muffled figure stood
+      near.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine advanced to the altar, and with quick decision drew a diamond
+      ring from her finger, and begged permission to deposit it instead of
+      money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The muffled figure bowed, and handed to her the new watchword&mdash;a
+      picture of a Madonna, with the sign of the Rosicrucians underneath. Then
+      she returned, and awaited at the door, with a little gathering, which must
+      consequently belong to the sixth grade. Gradually the others had
+      withdrawn; the naphtha-flames upon the altar were extinguished, and the
+      wax-lights of the centre lustres had grown dim, and gradually extinguished
+      themselves. Soon the doors were opened, and a bright light, as of the
+      sun&rsquo;s rays, filled the hall. Three blasts of trumpets sounded, and a choir
+      of immortal voices sang, &ldquo;Enter, ye blessed ones! Enter, ye elect!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They entered, whispering the sign to the guards, who stood with drawn
+      swords, and passed on to the throne upon which stood a couch, surrounded
+      with blooming flowers and covered with a cloud of silvery gauze. They soon
+      discovered a secret something was hidden under the cloud, though they knew
+      not whether it were child, woman, or man. They knelt upon the lower step
+      of the throne, with folded hands and bowed heads, praying in a low voice.
+      A solemn stillness reigned, the prayers died away on the lips, and the
+      hearts scarcely beat for anxiety and expectation. Suddenly a voice, which
+      seemed to come from the silver cloud, so distant and lofty, and rolling
+      like majestic thunder, cried, &ldquo;He comes, the chosen one! The Great Kophta
+      comes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The folding-doors flew open, and the Great Kophta entered. Wilhelmine
+      recognized in the majestic figure, enveloped in a flowing,
+      silver-embroidered satin robe, with a band of brilliants around his brow,
+      the handsome face of Cagliostro, beaming as if in an ecstasy. He saluted
+      the brothers with a gentle voice, and bade them approach and touch his
+      hand. As Wilhelmine did so, a thrill ran through her whole being, and she
+      sank overpowered at his feet. He bowed and breathed upon her. &ldquo;You are
+      chosen, ye heavenly brothers,&rdquo; he said, in a sweet, melodious voice; &ldquo;the
+      secrets of heaven and earth are disclosed to you. I receive you in the
+      Holy Order of the Favorites of God, which I founded with Enoch and Elias
+      when we dwelt in the promised land. From them I received the Word of Life,
+      and they sent me to the ancient sages of Egypt, who revealed to me in the
+      pyramids the secret sciences which subject the earth and all her treasures
+      to our command. He who devotes himself to me with fidelity will receive
+      eternal life and the secret of immortality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We believe in thee, blessed one of God,&rdquo; murmured the kneeling ones; &ldquo;we
+      know that we receive life and salvation from thee. Bend to us, and give us
+      of the breath of immortality!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed and breathed upon them, and they broke forth in words of
+      thankfulness and delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only Wilhelmine kept silent; she only failed to feel the magical
+      influence, and he bowed again to her, fixing his great fiery eyes upon
+      her. &ldquo;Thou art called, thou art chosen,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Mount to the
+      tabernacle, and lift the veil.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She did as commanded, and beheld the figure of a wonderful woman stretched
+      upon the couch as in deep sleep, clothed in transparent robes. &ldquo;Lay your
+      hand upon her brow, and direct in your thoughts a question to the
+      prophetess of the order, and she will answer you!&rdquo; Upon the lofty, white
+      brow of the sleeping one, she laid her hand; immediately a smile flitted
+      over her beautiful face, and she nodded. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you must
+      believe. You dare not doubt. He is the elect, the holy Magus!&rdquo; Wilhelmine
+      trembled, for the answer was suited to the question. &ldquo;Demand a second
+      question of the prophetess,&rdquo; commanded Cagliostro. Again she laid her hand
+      upon the brow of the sleeping one, and again she smiled and nodded with
+      her beautiful head. &ldquo;Fear not,&rdquo; she replied; &ldquo;he will always love you, and
+      will never reject you, only you must not lead him astray from the right
+      course&mdash;but guide him to the temple of faith and knowledge. When you
+      cease to do it, you are lost. Shame upon earth and damnation will be your
+      portion.&rdquo; The answer was exact&mdash;for Wilhelmine had prayed to know if
+      the prince would always love and never reject her. &ldquo;Still a third
+      question,&rdquo; cried Cagliostro. In silence Wilhelmine asked, and the
+      prophetess answered aloud: &ldquo;You will be countess, you will become a
+      princess, you will possess millions, you will have the whole world at your
+      feet, if you call to your aid the Invisible Fathers, and implore the power
+      and miraculous blessing of the Great Kophta.&rdquo; Wilhelmine, deeply moved,
+      sank overpowered upon her knees, and cried aloud: &ldquo;I call upon the
+      Invisible Fathers for aid and assistance; I implore the power and
+      miraculous blessing of the Great Kophta.&rdquo; Suddenly, amid the rolling of
+      thunder and intense darkness, Wilhelmine felt herself lifted up&mdash;borne
+      away, as loud prayers were uttered around her. Then she felt herself
+      lowered again and with the freedom of motion. &ldquo;Fly! fly from the revenge
+      of the immortals, if you still doubt, still mistrust!&rdquo; cried a fearful
+      voice above her. &ldquo;Behold how the immortals revenge themselves.&rdquo;
+       Immediately a light began to dawn before her, a form rose from the
+      darkness like her own. She beheld herself kneeling, imploring, her face
+      deluged with tears, and before her a tall, erect, muffled figure, with a
+      glittering sword in his uplifted arm, which sank gradually lower and lower
+      until it pierced her bosom and the blood gushed forth. Wilhelmine shrieked
+      and fainted. She witnessed no more miracles, beard no more prophecies and
+      revelations which the magi made to the elect. She beheld not the
+      appearance of the blessed spirits, which at the importunity of the
+      brothers flitted through the apartment. She heard not Cagliostro take
+      leave of Baron von Bischofswerder, when all had withdrawn, saying, &ldquo;I have
+      now exalted you to be chief director of the holy order. You will at once
+      receive orders from the Invisible Fathers, announced to you in writing,
+      and you will follow them faithfully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will follow them faithfully,&rdquo; humbly answered Bischofswerder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will be rewarded by the knowledge of life and of money; you shall
+      discover the philosopher&rsquo;s stone, and the secret of gold shall be revealed
+      to you, when you perform what the Invisible Fathers demand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do every thing,&rdquo; cried Bischofswerder, fervently; &ldquo;only make known
+      to me their commands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They desire, at the present, that you seek to be the confidant of the
+      Prince of Prussia. Gain his affection, then govern him, making yourself
+      indispensable to him. Surround him with servants and confidants that you
+      can rely upon. Inspire him with devotion to the holy order. Become, now,
+      the friend of the prince, that you may, one day, rule the king. You are
+      the chief of the order in Prussia; the more members you gain the more
+      secrets will be revealed to you. The holy fathers send me afar, but I
+      shall return: if you have been active and faithful, I will make known to
+      you a great secret and bring you the elixir of life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When will you return, master?&rdquo; asked Bisehofswerder, enthusiastically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cagliostro smiled. &ldquo;Before the crown prince of Prussia becomes king. Ask
+      no further. Be faithful!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. THE JESUIT GENERAL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      No one remained in the drawing-room but Cagliostro and the beautiful woman
+      who still lay quietly on the couch, upon the throne. Cagliostro approached
+      her, and, raising the veil, regarded her a moment, with an expression of
+      the most passionate tenderness: &ldquo;We are alone, Lorenza,&rdquo; said he. She
+      opened her great eyes, and looked around the dimly-lighted room; then,
+      fixing them upon Cagliostro, who stood before her in his brilliant costume
+      of magician, she burst into a merry laugh, so loud and so irresistible,
+      that Cagliostro was seized involuntarily, and joined her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! was it not heavenly, was it not a glorious comedy, and did I not play
+      divinely, Joseph? Was I not bewitching as the goddess of Nature?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You looked truly like a goddess, Lorenza, and there is nothing more
+      beautiful than you, in heaven or upon earth. But come, my enchantress, it
+      is time to break up, as we are to set off early to-morrow morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have we now much money? Was the tribute richly paid?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, we have a hundred louis d&rsquo;ors and a diamond ring from the mistress
+      of this house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it to me,&rdquo; cried Lorenza.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not the ring, Lorenza, but the diamond, so soon as I have a false stone
+      set in the ring&mdash;which I must keep as a ring in the chain which will
+      bind this woman to our cause.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was I not astonishingly like her? Was it not almost unmistakable?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, wonderfully deceptive. I shuddered myself as I saw the dagger
+      pointed at your bosom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the blood, how it gushed forth, Joseph!&rdquo; Lorenza burst into a merry
+      laugh again, and Cagliostro joined her, but suddenly stopped, and,
+      listening, turned toward the door, which he had closed after
+      Bischofswerder departed. It seemed as if he heard a noise&mdash;a peculiar
+      knocking. Four times it was repeated, and Cagliostro waved his hand to
+      Lorenza not to speak. Again were heard the four peculiar rhythmical
+      sounds. &ldquo;Be quiet, for Heaven&rsquo;s sake be quiet, Lorenza! Let me cover you
+      with the veil; it is a messenger from the Invisibles.&rdquo; Cagliostro flew to
+      the door, unbolted it, and stood humbly near the entrance. A masked
+      figure, enveloped in a cloak, opened it, and entered, rebolting it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly turning toward Cagliostro, he harshly demanded, &ldquo;Whose servant are
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The servant of the Invisible Rulers and Fathers,&rdquo; he humbly answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are the Invisible Fathers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The four ambassadors of the great general of the exiles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call him by that name which he bore before a heretic pope in Rome, a weak
+      empress, a free-thinking emperor in Germany, a lost-in-sin French emperor,
+      and a heretic Spanish minister, condemned him to banishment and
+      destruction.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;General of the Jesuits,&rdquo; he answered respectfully, bowing lower.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know the sign by which he may be recognized?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, by a ring with the likeness of the founder of the order, the holy
+      Ignatius Loyola.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then look, and recognize me,&rdquo; cried the mask, extending his hand to
+      Cagliostro.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The General,&rdquo; he murmured, frightened, gazing at the ring upon the small,
+      white hand of the other. &ldquo;The holy founder of the order himself!&rdquo; He
+      seized his hand and pressed it to his lips, sinking upon his knees. The
+      mask remained standing before the magician, as lowly as he might bow
+      himself, who was still arrayed in his brilliant costume with the band upon
+      his brow sparkling like diamonds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a cold, reserved manner he answered, &ldquo;I am he, and am come here to
+      give you my commands by word of mouth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Command me; I am thy humble servant, and but a weak tool in thy hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my will that you should become a powerful tool in my hands. Rise,
+      for I will speak to the man who must stand erect in the storm. Rise!&rdquo; The
+      proud commander was now an humble, obedient servant. He rose slowly,
+      standing with bowed head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When and where did we last meet?&rdquo; demanded the mask.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In 1773, at Rome.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the year of curse and blasphemy,&rdquo; said the mask, in a harsh voice.
+      &ldquo;The year in which the infamous Pope Clement XVI. condemned the holy
+      order, and hurled his famous bull, Dominus redemptor noster. The holy
+      order, condemned and disbanded by his infamous mouth, were changed into
+      holy martyrs, without country, without possessions or rights, as
+      persecuted fugitives, wandering around the world, to the wicked a scorn,
+      to the pious a lamentable example of virtue and constancy. Exiled and
+      persecuted, you fled to a house of one of our order, and there we for the
+      first time met. The daughter of this man was your beloved. Tell me why did
+      you conceal yourself after flying from Palermo? I will see if the elevated
+      one ungratefully forgets the days of his degradation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They accused me in Palermo of falsifying documents by which rightful
+      owners were deprived of their lawful possessions. They threw me into
+      subterranean dungeons, and I was near dying, when the Invisible Protectors
+      rescued me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was the accusation well founded? Had you committed the crime you were
+      accused of?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cagliostro, in a low voice, &ldquo;I was guilty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For whom, by whose authority?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the pious fathers, who commanded me, and whose pretensions to the
+      possessions of the Duc Costa Rica were clearly proved by those documents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You then learned the power and the gratitude of our order. From
+      underground prisons they freed you, and procured a way of escape to Rome,
+      to find a safe asylum in the house of a believer. But just at that time
+      condemnation burst upon us, and from a powerful order we were changed into
+      a persecuted one. The forger Joseph Balsamo sought the brazier Feliciano,
+      who gave him money, letters of recommendation, and instructed him how to
+      serve the order, and procure an agreeable life for himself. Is it not so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so,&rdquo; answered Cagliostro, softly. &ldquo;It was the order of the General
+      which united you in marriage to your beloved Lorenza Feliciana, who
+      initiated you in the secret sciences and the secrets of Nature, that you
+      might employ them for the well-being of humanity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so, master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You implored also, as you were about to separate, to see the face of your
+      benefactor, to engrave it upon your heart. Would you now be able to
+      recognize it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could in an instant, among thousands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The General slowly raised the mask; a pale, emaciated face was visible,
+      with great black eyes in sunken sockets, thin bloodless lips, and a high,
+      bony brow. &ldquo;Do you recognize me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; sadly answered Cagliostro, &ldquo;it is not the same face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see, my son, man changes, but knowledge not. I am another, and yet
+      the same, for the outward human form is only the vessel of the eternal
+      band into which everlasting truth and the holy doctrines are poured. If
+      the vessel breaks, it is replaced by another, and an inexhaustible spring.
+      Thought and holy knowledge flow into the renewed vessel. I am a new
+      vessel, but the same spirit which formerly spoke to you. I know your past
+      life, and for what purpose you are in the world. As the General then spoke
+      to you, so speak I now. The unholy have put the holy under a ban&mdash;they
+      have persecuted and condemned us. The Holy Order of the Fathers of Jesus
+      is lifeless before the world, but not before God. Jesuits do not die, for
+      they bear eternal life in them, and there will a day come when they will
+      burst forth from darkness into light. Go, my son, and help prepare the
+      day, help smooth the way, that we may walk therein. Have you obeyed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have consecrated my whole life to it, your eminence. I have wandered
+      around the world, and everywhere striven to disseminate the doctrine of
+      the Invisible Fathers, and win disciples and adherents to the order. The
+      Brothers of the Egyptian Masons, the Brothers of the Rosicrucians, are the
+      disciples which I have won, and you know well there are many mighty and
+      illustrious men among them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it, and I am satisfied you are an active and useful tool. This I
+      came to tell you, that I might stimulate and advise you. Great deeds you
+      shall perform, great achievements the holy Ignatius Loyola announces by my
+      mouth. The world lies in sin, and the devil strides victorious over it,
+      since the holy order has been proscribed and persecuted by the wicked. The
+      devil is arrogant progress and boasting reason. They who listen to him
+      think themselves wise when they are fools, and speak of their
+      enlightenment while they still wander in the dark. To combat this reason,
+      to oppose this intelligence, is the task of our order, which will never
+      die. For God Sent it forth to the world to fight the devil of progress,
+      who is the ruler of darkness. I have observed you, I have followed you,
+      and I am satisfied. But I await still greater things from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What shall it be? Speak, O master; command, and I obey!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall strive throughout Europe for the restitution of the holy order.
+      You shall subject to it all minds; make the rich, the powerful, the
+      eminent and great, serviceable to it. Into the Orders of the Rosicrucians
+      and Egyptian Masons you shall gather all the stray and isolated sheep into
+      a flock, to await with longing the coming of the shepherd, and prepare a
+      place for him. To the holy Church you shall consecrate the band of
+      brothers, the only blessed Church, which is the lofty abode of the father
+      of our order. To us belongs the world; you shall assist to reconquer it.
+      Unbelievers shall be fought with every weapon. Every deception, slander,
+      persecution, and murder, are holy if used for the benefit of the holy
+      order. You shall shrink from nothing which is useful and beneficial for
+      the sublime goal. The murder of a prince is no sin, but a just punishment,
+      when it is necessary to remove a mighty enemy. If you create revolutions,
+      cause nations to tear each other to pieces in grim civil war, these
+      revolutions will be sanctified, the civil wars blessed, if they serve to
+      strengthen the power of our order, and gain victory at last against the
+      opponents. Only through our order can happiness reenter the world, and
+      mankind be rescued. If the Holy Fathers do not sit in the council of
+      princes, if they are not the conscience of the powerful, and steer the
+      machine of state, the world goes to destruction, and mankind is lost. You
+      shall help, my son, to turn aside the evil, and prepare happiness for
+      earth. You have already done much, but much more is required. Go and work
+      miracles; belief in them sanctifies the mind. Our fathers will sustain you
+      everywhere, for you well know they are always present, though it is
+      imagined they are not. The infamous Ganganelli has stripped them of their
+      uniform, but not annihilated them, as we are, and ever shall be. I have
+      sent out nine thousand brothers in Europe for the benefit of the order,
+      and you will recognize them by the watchword. They will serve you as you
+      will serve them. If danger menaces you, our brothers will know it, and
+      rescue you. You will be unassailable, so long as you work for the order,
+      and win disciples for it. Prussia is our important station as you rightly
+      judged, and I extol you for your foresight. You prepare the future, for
+      here it will be! When the royal mocker of religion dies, then comes a new
+      kingdom, and the Rosicrucians will rise to power. Vices as well as virtues
+      must serve us; therefore Dischofswerder and Wilhelmine Enke are useful
+      means for holy purposes. That you have recognized it I praise you.
+      Continue, my son, as you have begun, and you shall become powerful upon
+      the earth. Not a hair of your head shall be touched so long as you are
+      faithful to the Invisible Fathers. But so soon as you turn traitor to the
+      holy cause you are lost, and our anger will crush you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never will I turn traitor,&rdquo; cried Cagliostro, holding up his hands as if
+      taking an oath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope not. Our enemies shall be your enemies, and our friends your
+      friends. If one of the brothers orders you in my name, &lsquo;Kill this man or
+      that woman,&rsquo; so kill them! Swear it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Shuddering, Cagliostro repeated, &ldquo;I swear it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As soon as one of the brothers orders you, in my name, &lsquo;Rescue this man
+      or that woman,&rsquo; so do every thing; even risk and sacrifice your life to
+      rescue him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You stand in the holy temple of the order, but also under its avenging
+      sword. Be mindful of it in all your acts. The world is open to you, and
+      our influence will be with you everywhere. You shall win the hearts of the
+      great and the mighty to us, and place the Order of the Rosicrucians on the
+      steps of the throne. The Great Kophta shall lead believers to us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Great Kophta will perform all that you command, as he is only the
+      humble servant of his general,&rdquo; said Cagliostro, kissing the hand extended
+      to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not kiss the hand, it is only that of an inferior mortal: kiss the
+      ring, for it is the imperishable sign of our immortal saint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I kiss the ring of the immortal Ignatius Loyola, and swear eternal
+      fidelity, constant obedience, and firm love, until death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rise! for the time has come for us to separate. I have provided for the
+      journeys the necessary means. Here are letters of recommendation to Warsaw
+      and Mittau, others to Paris and London; but, the most important of all,
+      letters of credit upon well-known bankers to the value of five hundred
+      thousand dollars&mdash;all valid, though delivered years hence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A half million!&rdquo; cried Cagliostro, almost terrified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does a half million astonish you?&rdquo; repeated the General, and his gray,
+      fleshless face was distorted into a smile. &ldquo;The Great Kophta must travel
+      and live like a prince, that he may dazzle the eyes of the brothers, and
+      subjugate the minds of the powerful. We give you the money, but remember
+      you are always under the watchful eye of the order, and there is no spot
+      on earth where you can hide yourself from our vengeance with the trust
+      confided in you. You shall spend it to buy souls and win thrones, for
+      hearts and consciences are sold; money will buy every thing. Take your
+      letters of credit; you shall live as a great lord, and the Great Kophta
+      shall be equal with princes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He handed Cagliostro five sealed letters, saying: &ldquo;They are made out for
+      five years; only one for each year, as the number indicates. Number one is
+      for this year, and number five is only valid at the expiration of five
+      years. The order is mindful of your security, and thus five years of your
+      life are freed from earthly care. You shall work in spirit, and you shall
+      enchant the world, that it may be saved through the only saving Church,
+      and the Holy Order.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed a farewell, making the sign of the cross upon Cagliostro, and
+      bent his steps to the throne, raising the veil which enveloped Lorenza.
+      She looked up to him with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, smiling. By
+      this she would express her thanks for the princely gift to her husband,
+      and swear to the General her delight, her fidelity, and love. He regarded
+      her as coldly and calmly as a physician a patient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, holy father, I have heard all,&rdquo; she said, with a sweet, flute-like
+      voice. &ldquo;My heart is filled with gratitude and emotion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prove it by assisting your husband to attain the goal for which we send
+      him forth. I have already said that vice must serve virtue, Lorenza.
+      Beauty is a power, and if it serves holy purposes, so is it sanctified.
+      Employ your beauty to win adherents to the order, and extend the power of
+      the Rosicrucians in every land, and among all nations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear that this shall be my holiest endeavor,&rdquo; cried Lorenza, rising.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The General pressed her back upon the pillow, saying: &ldquo;Remain, for there
+      is no one here for you to enchant. I bring you pardon for your sins, and
+      an indulgence for every sin which you will commit, if you swear to serve
+      faithfully the holy Church and the pious fathers of Jesus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear,&rdquo; solemnly cried Lorenza.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is the letter of indulgence from Pius VI. himself, made out in your
+      name for you. Take it, and perform your duty.&rdquo; He laid down the parchment
+      provided with the papal seal upon her shoulder, and drawing the veil over
+      her made the sign of the cross, saying, &ldquo;I bless you, and give you
+      absolution for your sins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless me also, lord and master,&rdquo; cried Cagliostro, kneeling upon the
+      lowest step to the throne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I bless you in the name of Loyola. Remain upon your knees, and follow me
+      not.&rdquo; He extended his hands over him, and blessed him, then slowly
+      withdrew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first beams of the morning sun shone through the great window-panes,
+      lighting up with its golden rays Cagliostro&rsquo;s kneeling form. He remained
+      with his head bowed until the General had passed out. &ldquo;He is gone; Heaven
+      be praised, he is gone!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he is gone,&rdquo; repeated Lorenza, springing from the couch. &ldquo;Is it
+      true, has he given you half a million?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cagliostro held up with triumphant air the letters. &ldquo;See, these addresses
+      are upon the first banking-houses in Rome, Paris, London, and Berlin!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you believe that they are genuine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am convinced of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then we have attained our aim; we are rich and powerful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Cagliostro, mournfully, &ldquo;we are poorer than ever. This
+      money makes us slaves, makes us dependent tools. Did you not hear him say,
+      &lsquo;You are admitted into the Temple, but the avenging sword of the order
+      everywhere hangs over you.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. A PENSIONED GENERAL.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wife,&rdquo; cried the General von Werrig, limping around the room, leaning
+      upon his crutch, &ldquo;here is the answer from our most gracious lord and king.
+      The courier arrived to-day from the war department, and sent it to me by
+      an express.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the king&rsquo;s answer?&rdquo; asked the general&rsquo;s wife, a pale, gaunt
+      woman, with a pock-marked face, harsh, severe features, dull gray eyes,
+      which never beamed with emotion, and thin, bloodless lips, upon which a
+      smile never played. &ldquo;What is the king&rsquo;s answer?&rdquo; she repeated, in a rough
+      voice, as her husband, puffing and blowing from the effort of walking,
+      sank down upon a chair, and dried his fat, ruby face with a red cotton
+      pocket-handkerchief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not read it,&rdquo; panted the old man. &ldquo;I thought I would leave the
+      honor to you, as you, my very learned wife, wrote the letter to his
+      majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His wife was not in the least astonished at this thoughtful conduct of her
+      husband. She impetuously seized the sealed document, and, retiring to the
+      window-niche, slowly unfolded it, whilst the old general fixed his little
+      gray eyes upon her emotionless face. His own was bloated and red,
+      expressing the greatest anxiety and expectation. Perfect stillness reigned
+      for some minutes, only the regular strokes of the pendulum were heard from
+      the clock on the wall; and, as the hands pointed to the expiration of the
+      hour, a cuckoo sprang out of the tree painted over the dial, and eleven
+      times her hoarse, croaking voice was heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It gets every day more out of tune,&rdquo; growled the general, as he looked up
+      to the old, yellow dial, and ran his eye over the cords which supported
+      the weights. Then glancing around the room, he saw everywhere age, decay,
+      and indigence. There was an old divan, with a patched, faded covering of
+      silk, and a grandfather&rsquo;s arm-chair near it, the cushion of which the
+      general knew, by the long years of experience, to be hard as a stone. A
+      round table stood near the divan, covered with a shabby woollen cover, to
+      hide the much-thumbed, dull polish. A few cane-chairs against the wall, an
+      old black-oak wardrobe near the door, and the sewing-table of Madame von
+      Werrig in the window-niche, completed the furniture of the room. At the
+      window hung faded woollen curtains, and on the green painted walls some
+      pictures and portraits, conspicuous among them a beautiful portrait of the
+      king, painted on copper, which represented Frederick in his youthful
+      beauty. It was a morose, sullen-looking room, arranged most certainly by
+      its feminine occupant, and harmonized exactly with her fretful face and
+      angular figure, void of charms. At last the general broke the silence with
+      submissive voice: &ldquo;I pray you, Clotilda, tell me what the king wrote.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She folded the paper, joy beaming in her eyes. &ldquo;Granted! every thing
+      granted!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general jumped up to embrace his wife with youthful activity, in spite
+      of the gout. &ldquo;You are a capital wife,&rdquo; he cried, at the same time giving
+      her a loud, smacking kiss upon her cold, gray cheek. &ldquo;It was the
+      brightest, cleverest act of my life marrying you, Clotilda.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I might well say the reverse, Emerentius,&rdquo; she replied, complainingly.
+      &ldquo;It surely was not sensible for me, a young lady from such a genteel
+      family, and so spoiled, to marry an officer whom the king ennobled upon
+      the battle-field, and who possessed nothing but his captain&rsquo;s pay&mdash;a
+      fickle man, and a gambler, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Clotilda, love usurped reason,&rdquo; soothingly replied the general;
+      &ldquo;love is your excuse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; cried Madame von Werrig. &ldquo;Love is never an excuse; it is
+      folly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, let us suppose, then, that you did not marry for love, only from
+      pure reason, because you found that it was quite time to espouse some one;
+      and that, in spite of your many ancestors and genteel family, no other
+      chance was offered you, unfortunately no one but this captain, whom the
+      king ennobled upon the battle-field of Leuthen on account of his bravery,
+      and who was a very handsome, agreeable officer, expecting still further
+      promotion. And you were not deceived. I was major, when the Hubertsburger
+      treaty put an end to a gay war-life. You will remember I was advanced
+      during peace; his majesty did not forget that I cut a way for him through
+      the enemy, and he made me lieutenant-colonel and colonel, when I was
+      obliged to resign on account of this infamous gout, and then I received
+      the title of general.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without &lsquo;excellency,&rsquo;&rdquo; replied his wife, dryly. &ldquo;I have not even this
+      pleasure to be called &lsquo;excellency.&rsquo; It would have been a slight
+      compensation for my sad, miserable existence, and vexed many of the female
+      friends of my youth if they had been obliged to call me &lsquo;excellency.&rsquo; But
+      my marriage brought me only cares, not even a title.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not forget a lovely daughter, Clotilda. Our Marie is beautiful, wise,
+      and good, and through her you will yet have tranquil happiness. For you
+      say the king has granted all we wish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every thing!&rdquo; repeated the wife, with emphasis. &ldquo;We have at last finished
+      with want and care, and can count upon an independent, quiet old age, for
+      God has been gracious, and forced you, from the gout, to give up gambling,
+      and we are freed from the misery which has so often threatened us from
+      your unhappy passion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the beginning, I played from passion; afterward, I only played to win
+      back what I had lost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in that manner played away all we possessed, and played upon your
+      word of honor, so that for years the half of our pension went to pay your
+      gambling-debts. Heaven be thanked, the king did not know it, or we would
+      have experienced still worse!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I pray you, beloved Clotilda, do not fret yourself needlessly about the
+      past; it is all over, and, as you say, I am unfortunately a prisoner in
+      the house from the gout, which shields me from the temptation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not say unfortunately; I said &lsquo;Heaven be praised, the gout had put
+      an end to your fickle life.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, thank Heaven, my dear; we will not quarrel about it. It is past,
+      and, as the king has granted all, we shall have a pleasant life now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will soon receive from our son-in-law a yearly pension, which will be
+      paid to me, and I shall spend it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general sighed. &ldquo;In that case I fear that I shall not get much of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At any rate, more than I have ever received from your pension.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is but one thing wanting,&rdquo; replied the general, evasively, &ldquo;Marie&rsquo;s
+      consent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame von Werrig gave a short, gruff laugh, which did not in the least
+      brighten her sullen face. &ldquo;We will not ask her consent, but command it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general remarked, timidly, shrugging his shoulders, &ldquo;Marie had a very
+      decided character, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you hesitate to speak out for? What&mdash;and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think she still loves the Conrector Moritz.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A second laugh, somewhat menacing, sounded like a challenge. &ldquo;The
+      schoolmaster!&rdquo; she cried, contemptuously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let her dare to tell me again she loves the schoolmaster; she the
+      daughter of a general, and a native-born countess of the empire!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear, it was your fault&mdash;the only fault you ever committed,
+      perhaps. How could you let such a young, handsome, and agreeable man come
+      to the house as teacher to our daughter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How could I suppose my daughter was so degenerated as to love a common
+      schoolmaster, and wish to marry him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is truly unheard of, and it would make any one angry, my dear wife,
+      for she insists upon loving him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will not insist, she will do what she is commanded to do&mdash;my
+      word for it! But why talk about it? It is better to decide the matter at
+      once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So Frau von Werrig rose with a determined manner, and rang the small brass
+      bell which was upon the sofa-table. But a few seconds elapsed before a
+      little, crooked servant appeared at the side-door, with her dirty apron
+      put aside by tucking the corner in her belt. &ldquo;Go to my daughter, and tell
+      her to come down immediately!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant, instead of hastening to obey the order, remained standing
+      upon the threshold. &ldquo;I dare not go,&rdquo; said she, in a hoarse, croaking
+      voice. &ldquo;Fraulein told me not to disturb her to-day, for she has still two
+      bouquets of flowers to arrange, and two lessons to give, and she is so
+      busy that she is not at home to visitors. She torments herself from
+      morning till night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I order you to tell Fraulein to come down at once; we have something
+      important to tell her. No contradiction! go, Trude!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant understood the cold, commanding tone of the mother, and dared
+      not disobey.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is nothing good that they have to tell her,&rdquo; grumbled Trude, as she
+      hurried up the stairs which led from the first story into the little, low
+      room in the attic, under the sloping roof. Here and there a few tiles
+      could be lifted, which lighted the garret sufficiently to show the door at
+      the end. &ldquo;May I come in, my dear Fraulein? it is Trude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The door is open,&rdquo; cried a sweet voice, and Trude entered. It is a most
+      charming little room, just that of a young girl. The bed has a snow-white
+      covering, and white curtains, suspended from a hook in the wall around it.
+      The same curtains at the low gable-windows, whose depth, so to speak, made
+      a light anteroom to the real gloomy one in the background. In this little
+      anteroom the young girl had placed all that was necessary for her pleasure
+      and use. There were the most beautiful, sweet-scented flowers upon the
+      window-stool; in a pretty metal cage was a light-colored canary. There
+      were also pretty engravings, and upon the table stood a vase filled with
+      superb artificial flowers, and before it sat the possessor of this room,
+      the daughter of General and Frau von Werrig, surrounded with her
+      work-tools, paper, and colored materials&mdash;a young girl, scarcely
+      twenty, of a proud, dignified appearance, but simply and gracefully
+      dressed. According to the fashion of the day, her hair was slightly
+      powdered, and raised high above her broad, clear brow with a blue rosette,
+      and ends at the side. The nobly-formed and beautiful face was slightly
+      flushed, and around the month was an expression of courageous energy. As
+      old Trude entered, the young girl raised her eyes from the rose-bud which
+      she was just finishing, and looked at her. What beautiful black eyes they
+      were as they sparkled underneath the delicately-arched, black eyebrows!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, old one,&rdquo; said she, kindly, &ldquo;what do you wish? Did you forget that I
+      wanted to work undisturbed to-day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t forget it, my Fraulein, but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you have forgotten that up here, in my attic-room, I am not your
+      Fraulein, but your Marie, whom you have taken care of and watched over
+      when a child, and whose best and truest friend you have been. Come, give
+      me your hand, and tell me what you have to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Trude shuffled hurriedly along in her leather slippers. Her old,
+      homely face looked almost attractive, with its expression of glowing
+      tenderness, as she regarded the beautiful, smiling face before her, and
+      laid her hard brown hand in the little white one extended to her. &ldquo;Marie,&rdquo;
+       she said, softly and anxiously, &ldquo;you must go down at once to your mother
+      and father. They have something very important to tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something very important!&rdquo; repeated Marie, laying aside her work. &ldquo;Do you
+      know what it is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing good, I fear,&rdquo; sighed the old woman. &ldquo;A soldier has been here
+      from the war department and brought a letter for the general, and he told
+      me that it was sent from the king&rsquo;s cabinet at Breslau.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Heaven! what does it mean?&rdquo; cried Marie, frightened, and springing
+      up. &ldquo;Something is going to happen, I know. I have noticed certain
+      expressions which escaped my father; the proud, threatening manner of my
+      mother; but above all the bold importunity of that man, whom I despise as
+      one detests vice, stupidity, and ennui. They will not believe that I hate
+      him, that I rather&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie, are you not coming?&rdquo; called the mother, with a commanding voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must obey,&rdquo; she said, drawing a long breath, and hastening to the door,
+      followed by Trude, who pulled her back and held her fast upon the very
+      first step. &ldquo;You have forbidden me to speak of him, but I must.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie stood as if rooted to the spot, her face flushed, and in breathless
+      expectation looking back to old Trude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak, Trude,&rdquo; she softly murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie, I saw him to-day, an hour ago!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where, Trude, where did you see him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Over on the corner of Frederick Street, by the baker&rsquo;s. He stood waiting
+      for me, as he knows I always go there. He had been there two hours, and
+      feared that I was not coming.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he say? Quick! what did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He said that he was coming to see you to-day at twelve o&rsquo;clock; that he
+      would rather die than live in this way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-day? and you have just told me of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not mean to say any thing at all about it; I thought it would be
+      better, and then you would not have to dissemble. But now, if any harm
+      comes to you, you know he is coming, and will stand by you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will stand by me&mdash;yes, he will&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie!&rdquo; cried her mother, and her dry, gaunt figure appeared at the foot
+      of the stairs. Marie flew down to the sitting-room of her parents,
+      following her mother, who took her place in the niche at the open window
+      without speaking to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. THE KING&rsquo;S LETTER.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie,&rdquo; said the general&rsquo;s wife, after seating herself upon the hard
+      cushion of the divan, near which sat the general in his arm-chair, busily
+      stroking his painful right leg&mdash;&ldquo;Marie, take a chair, and sit near
+      us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie noiselessly brought a cane-chair, and seated herself by the table,
+      opposite her parents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have just received a communication from the king&rsquo;s cabinet,&rdquo; said the
+      mother, solemnly. &ldquo;It is necessary that you should know the contents, and
+      I will read it aloud to you. I expressly forbid you, however, to interrupt
+      me while I am reading, in your impetuous manner, with your remarks, which
+      are always of the most obstinate and disagreeable kind. You understand, do
+      you, Marie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perfectly, mother; I will listen without interrupting you, according to
+      your command.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This communication is naturally addressed to your father, as I wrote to
+      the king in his name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know that you had written to his majesty at all, dear mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mother cast a furious glance at the gentle, decided face of her
+      daughter. &ldquo;You already forget my command and your promise to listen
+      without interrupting me. I did, indeed, write to his majesty, but it is
+      not necessary to tell you what I, or rather your father, solicited, as you
+      will hear it in the answer from our most gracious king. It runs thus: &lsquo;My
+      faithful subject: I have received your petition, and I was glad to learn
+      by this occasion that you are well, and that you now lead a steady,
+      reasonable life. Formerly you gave good cause of complaint; for it is well
+      known to me that you led a dissolute life, and your family suffered want
+      and misfortune from your abominable chance-games. You know that I have
+      twice paid your debts; that at the second time I gave you my royal word of
+      assurance that I would never pay a groschen for you again. If you gave
+      yourself up to the vice, and made gambling-debts, I would send you to the
+      fortress at Spandau, and deprive you of your pension. Nevertheless you
+      played again, and commenced your vicious life anew. Notwithstanding which,
+      I did not send you to prison as I threatened, and as you deserved, because
+      I remembered that you had been a brave soldier, and did me a good service
+      at the battle of Leuthen. For this reason I now also grant your request,
+      that, as you have no son, your name and coat-of-arms may descend to your
+      son-in-law. The name of Werrig-Leuthen is well worthy to be preserved, and
+      be an example to succeeding generations. I give my permission for Ludwig
+      Ebenstreit, banker, to marry your daughter and only child, and&mdash;&lsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie uttered a cry of horror, and sprang from her seat. &ldquo;Mother!&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be still! I commanded you not to interrupt me, but listen, with becoming
+      respect, to the end, to the words&rsquo; of his majesty.&rdquo; And, with a louder
+      voice, occasionally casting a severe, commanding glance at her daughter,
+      she read on: &ldquo;&lsquo;And call himself in future Ludwig Werrig von Leuthen. I
+      wish that he should honor the new name, and prove himself a true nobleman.
+      Ludwig Ebenstreit must give up, or sell, without delay, his banking
+      business, as I cannot permit a nobleman to continue the business of
+      citizen, and remain a merchant. A nobleman must either be a soldier or a
+      landed proprietor; and if your future son-in-law will not be either, he
+      can live upon his income, which must indeed be ample. But I command him to
+      spend it in the country, not go to foreign countries to spend what he has
+      gained in the country. If he should do it, it will not be well with him,
+      and he shall be brought back by force. You may communicate this to him,
+      and he can judge for himself. I will have the letters of nobility made out
+      for him, for which he shall pay the sum of one hundred louis d&rsquo;ors to the
+      &lsquo;Invalids&rsquo; at Berlin. It depends upon him whether as a true nobleman he
+      will not give my poor &lsquo;Invalids&rsquo; a greater sum. The marriage shall not
+      take place until the letters of nobility have been published in the Berlin
+      journals, for I do not wish the daughter of a general, and a countess, to
+      marry beneath her. You can prepare every thing for the wedding, and let
+      them be married as soon as publication has been made. I will give the
+      bride a thousand thalers for a dowry, that she may not go to her rich
+      husband penniless; the money will be paid to your daughter from the
+      government treasury at her receipt. As ever I remain your well-disposed
+      king, FREDERICK.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And here on the margin,&rdquo; continued the general&rsquo;s wife, looking over to
+      her husband with malicious pleasure, &ldquo;the king has written a few lines in
+      his own hand: &lsquo;I have given orders that the money shall be paid to your
+      daughter in person, with her receipt for the same, for I know you, and
+      know that you do not play, not because you have not the money, but the
+      gout. If you had the cash and not the gout, you would play your daughter&rsquo;s
+      dowry to the devil, and that I do not wish, for a noble maiden should not
+      marry a rich husband as poor as a church mouse. FREDERICK.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A profound stillness prevailed when the reading was finished. The general
+      busied himself, as usual, rubbing his gouty leg with the palm of his hand.
+      Marie sat with her hands pressed upon her bosom, as if she would force
+      back the sighs and sobs which would break forth. Her great, black eyes
+      were turned to her mother with an expression of painful terror, and she
+      searched with a deathly anxiety for a trace of sympathy and mercy upon her
+      cold, immovable face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her mother slowly folded the letter, and laid it upon the table. &ldquo;You know
+      all now, Marie&mdash;that, as it becomes parents, we have disposed of your
+      future and your hand. You will submit to their wishes without murmuring or
+      opposition, as it becomes an obedient, well-brought-up daughter, and
+      receive the husband we have chosen for you. He will come today to hear
+      your consent, and you from this day forth are the betrothed of the future
+      Herr von Werrig. Of course from this very hour you will cease the highly
+      improper and ungenteel business which you have pursued. You must not make
+      any more flowers, or give any more lessons. The time of such degradation
+      and humiliation is past, and my daughter can no longer be a
+      school-mistress. You have only to write the receipt to-day, and I will go
+      with you to the treasury to get the money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not write the receipt,&rdquo; said Marie, gently but firmly. Her mother,
+      in the act of rising, sank back upon the divan; and the general,
+      apparently quite occupied with his leg, stopped rubbing, and raised his
+      red, bloated face to his daughter in astonishment. &ldquo;Did I understand
+      rightly your words, that you would not write the receipt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, mother, I said so; I cannot and will not write it,&rdquo; replied Marie,
+      gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why cannot you, and will you not write it?&rdquo; said her mother,
+      scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I have no right to the money, and cannot take it, mother, as I
+      will never be the wife of the man you intend me to marry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general sprang with a savage curse from his arm-chair, and would have
+      rushed to his daughter, but his wife pushed him back into his seat, and
+      approached Marie, who rose, regarding her mother with a firm, sad
+      expression. &ldquo;Why can you not be the wife of the man we have chosen for
+      you? Answer me, WHY you cannot?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know, mother,&rdquo; she replied, and gradually her voice assumed a more
+      decided tone, her cheeks reddened, and an inspired expression beamed from
+      her eyes, and pervaded her whole being&mdash;&ldquo;you know, mother, that I can
+      never be the wife of Herr Ebenstreit, for I do not love him. I despise and
+      abominate him, because he is a man without honor; he knows that I do not
+      love him, and yet he insists upon marrying me. If it were not so, if I did
+      not despise and abominate him, I would not receive his suit and marry
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; cried the general, shaking his fist at his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; cried the mother, with a cold, icy glance, void of pity or
+      anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie encountered these looks with beaming eyes. &ldquo;Because I am betrothed
+      to another,&rdquo; and the words came like a cry of joy from her heart&mdash;&ldquo;because
+      I am engaged to my beloved Moritz!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shameless, obstinate creature, have we not forbidden it?&rdquo; cried her
+      father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop!&rdquo; interrupted his wife, with a commanding wave of her hand, which
+      silenced the obedient husband immediately. &ldquo;It belongs to me to question
+      her, for I am her mother, and my daughter owes me submission and obedience
+      above all things.&mdash;Answer me, Marie, did you not know that we had
+      forbidden you to speak to this man, or have any communication with him?
+      Did you not know that I, your mother, had menaced you with a curse if you
+      married this man, or even spoke to the miserable, pitiable creature?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; cried Marie, vehemently, &ldquo;he is not a poor, miserable creature.
+      You may hate him, but you dare not outrage the noble, the good, and just
+      man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is a good-for-nothing fellow,&rdquo; cried her father; &ldquo;he has tried to win
+      a minor behind the parents&rsquo; back. He is a shameful, good-for-nothing
+      seducer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is dishonorable,&rdquo; cried the general&rsquo;s wife&mdash;&ldquo;a dishonorable man,
+      who has misused our confidence. We confided to him our daughter to teach,
+      and paid him for it. He improved the opportunity to make a declaration of
+      love, and stole the time from us to infatuate the heart of our daughter
+      with flattery, and from his pupil win a bride.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, unworthy, shameful slander!&rdquo; cried Marie, her eyes flashing with
+      anger. &ldquo;You well know that it is a vile scandal, that Moritz was no paid
+      teacher. If he had been&mdash;if he had felt obliged to yield to the sad
+      necessity of being paid for his valuable time, because he was poor, and
+      forced to live by his intellect, he was a free man, and had the right to
+      love whom he chose. He loves me, and I have accepted his love as the most
+      precious, most beautiful, and most glorious gift of my life. Ah! do not
+      look so angry with me, father; I cannot say otherwise. I cannot crush or
+      deny the inmost life of my life.&mdash;Oh, mother, forgive me that I
+      cannot change it! You know that otherwise I have been a most obedient
+      daughter to you in all things, although you have never taught me the
+      happiness of possessing a loving mother; though neither of you could ever
+      forgive your only child for not being a son, who could inherit your name,
+      and win a brilliant position, yet I have always loved you tenderly and
+      truly, and never complained that the unwelcome daughter received neither
+      love nor tenderness, only indifference and coldness from her parents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beautiful, very beautiful!&rdquo; replied the mother, contemptuously. &ldquo;Now you
+      wish to blame us that you are a heartless and thankless daughter.&mdash;We
+      have not understood her heart, and it is our fault that her love has flown
+      somewhere else.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the language of romance. I have, indeed, read it in the romances
+      of Herr Moritz, and my daughter has only repeated what she learned as a
+      docile pupil from her schoolmaster. Very fine, to pay Herr Moritz to form
+      our daughter into the heroine of a romance! She ought to have learned the
+      languages, but has learned only the language of romances.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very severe and very cruel, mother,&rdquo; said Marie, sadly. &ldquo;I would
+      not complain, only excuse myself, and implore pity and indulgence, and
+      defend myself from the reproach of having been a cold, unloving daughter.
+      Oh! God knows how I have longed for your love; that I would willingly
+      prove that I would joyfully do every thing to embellish your life and make
+      you happy. It gave me such pleasure to earn something for you with my dear
+      flowers and lessons, and afford you a little gratification!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! now, she will reproach us with having toiled for us and sacrificed
+      herself. Husband, thank yourself for the victim who worked for you, who
+      gave her youth for us that she might strew our life with roses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have had enough of this talking and whining,&rdquo; cried the general,
+      furiously beating the table with his fist. &ldquo;My daughter shall not be a
+      heroine of romance, but an obedient child, who submits to the will of her
+      parents. You shall marry the man that we have chosen for you; the king has
+      given his consent, and it shall take place. I command you! That is
+      sufficient! I will hear no more about it; the thing is done with. Herr
+      Ebenstreit is coming this afternoon to make you a proposal of marriage
+      with our consent, and you must, accept him. I command you to do it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot obey you! Oh, do not force me to rebel against God&rsquo;s holy laws!
+      Have pity upon me! I have obeyed you until now, and yielded to your
+      wishes, although I thought it would break my heart sometimes. You have
+      forbidden Moritz the house, and turned him out of doors like a servant,
+      with scorn and contempt, and he has silently borne it on my account. You
+      have forbidden me to write or receive letters from him, or ever to meet
+      him. My mother would curse me if I disobeyed her, and I submitted. I have
+      given up every thing, sacrificed every wish, and renounced my love. But
+      you cannot expect more from me, or dare ask it. I can forego happiness,
+      but you cannot ask me to consent to be buried alive!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what if we should wish it?&rdquo; asked her mother. &ldquo;If we should demand
+      our daughter to give up a romantic, foolish love, to become the wife of a
+      young man who loves her, and who loves us, and who is rich enough to
+      assure us a comfortable old age, free from care?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie,&rdquo; cried the general, in a begging and almost imploring tone,
+      &ldquo;Marie, prove to us now that you are really a good and grateful child&mdash;we
+      have had so much care and want in our life, so many sorrowful days! It
+      lies in your hands to make our declining days joyous and bright, and free
+      us from want. We have often grumbled against God, that He did not give us
+      a son; now make us to rejoice that He has given us a daughter, who will
+      bring us a son and inherit our name through her children, and who will
+      give us what we have never known&mdash;prosperity and riches. I beg you,
+      my dear, good child, grant your parents the few last years of their life
+      freedom from care!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, Marie,&rdquo; said her mother, in a softened and tender tone, which
+      Marie had never heard from her&mdash;&ldquo;I beg you also, be a good daughter,
+      pity your mother! I have always led a joyless, unhappy life. I lived
+      unmarried, a native-born countess, with proud relations, who made me feel
+      bitterly my dependence; when married my existence was only trouble,
+      privations, care, and sorrow. I beg you, Marie, teach me to know
+      happiness, for which I have so longed in vain; give me independence and
+      prosperity, which I have always desired, and never known. I pray, Marie,
+      make us happy in bringing us a rich, genteel, and good son-in-law, Herr
+      Ebenstreit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie, who met the scorn and threats of her mother with firmness and a
+      proud demeanor, trembled as she heard these severe and merciless lips,
+      always so cold and harsh, now begging and imploring. At first she was
+      quite frightened, and then terrified, and covered her face with her hands,
+      her head sinking upon her breast as her mother spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak, my daughter,&rdquo; cried the general, as his wife was silent. &ldquo;Speak,
+      my dear Marie. Say the word, and we shall be all happy, and there will be
+      no happier family found in Berlin, or the world even. Say that you will
+      marry Ebenstreit, and we will love and bless you so long as we live. Do
+      say yes, dear Marie!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hands fell from her face, and stretching them out toward her parents,
+      she looked at them in despair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a fearful pause. &ldquo;I cannot, it is impossible!&rdquo; she shrieked. &ldquo;I
+      cannot marry this man, for I do not love him. I love another, whom I can
+      never forget, whom I shall love forever. I love&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr Conrector Moritz!&rdquo; announced Trude, hastily bursting open the door,
+      and looking in with a triumphant smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. HATE AND LOVE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr Conrector Moritz wishes to pay his respects,&rdquo; called out Trude
+      again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We do not wish to receive him,&rdquo; cried Frau von Werrig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He dare not presume to enter!&rdquo; shrieked the general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie cried, &ldquo;Moritz! Oh! my beloved Moritz,&rdquo; rushing with outstretched
+      arms toward her lover, who just appeared at the door. &ldquo;God has sent you to
+      sustain me in this fearful hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Trude peeped through the half-closed door, well satisfied to see her
+      dear young lady folded in Moritz&rsquo;s arms, and her head leaning upon his
+      shoulder. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she murmured, closing softly the door, &ldquo;Marie is right,
+      God himself sent her lover in this hour, and I would not let her wicked,
+      hard-hearted parents send him away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Quick as thought she turned the key, fastening the door, and betook
+      herself to the farthest room, carefully closing every door between them.
+      &ldquo;Now we will see for once whether they will show him the door, and pitch
+      him out. No, they will be obliged to listen to him. Old Trude wishes it,
+      for it will make her dear Marie happy. It is all the same to me if the old
+      German tries to scratch my eyes out for it; I will take good care to keep
+      out of his way. I must go and listen once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She put her ear to the keyhole, and then her eye, to see how the
+      quarrellers looked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At first the general and his wife were quite alarmed, and almost
+      speechless as they witnessed the joyful meeting of the lovers. The father
+      sprang up suddenly, with clinched fist, but instead of bitter invectives
+      only a fearful shriek of pain was heard, as he sank groaning and
+      whimpering into his armchair. The gout had again seized its victim. Anger
+      had excited the general&rsquo;s blood, and had also brought on the pain in his
+      leg again. His wife took no notice of his cries and groans, for it was
+      quite as agreeable to her to be the only speaker, and have her moaning
+      husband a kind of assenting chorus. &ldquo;Leave each other!&rdquo; she commanded, as
+      she approached the lovers, flourishing her long shrivelled arms about.
+      &ldquo;Leave each other, and leave my house!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Laying her hand on Marie&rsquo;s arm, which was thrown around her lover&rsquo;s neck,
+      she endeavored to tear her away, and draw her daughter toward herself. But
+      Marie clung only the more firmly, and Moritz pressed her more fervently to
+      his heart. They heeded not and heard not the outburst of anger which the
+      mother gave way to. They read in each other&rsquo;s eyes the bliss, the joy of
+      meeting again, and the assurance of constant, imperishable love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are pale and thin, my beloved!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sorrow for you is consuming me, Marie, but, thank Heaven, you are
+      unchanged, and beautiful as ever!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hope and love have consoled and strengthened me, Philip.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough! I forbid you to speak another word to each other,&rdquo; and with the
+      power which rage lends, the mother tore Marie away. &ldquo;Herr Moritz, will you
+      tell me by what right you force yourself into our house, and surprise us
+      like a street-thief in our peaceful dwelling? But no! you need not tell
+      me, I will not listen to you. Those who permit themselves to enter our
+      room unasked and unwelcomed&mdash;I will have nothing to say to them.
+      Leave! there is the door! Out with you, off the threshold!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With calm demeanor, Moritz now approached Fran von Werrig, demanding her
+      pardon, saying: &ldquo;You see, madame, that I am not so unwelcome here,
+      therefore you will be obliged to let me remain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that she will,&rdquo; sneered Trude, outside the door. &ldquo;It will be
+      difficult for her to send him off so long as I am unwilling.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I will not permit it. We have nothing to do with each other. Out of
+      my sight!&mdash;Away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Away!&rdquo; cried the general. &ldquo;Oh, the gout, the maddening pains! I cannot
+      throw the bold fellow out of the house! I must lie here, and writhe like a
+      worm! I cannot be master of my house. Oh, oh! what pain!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay, Philip,&rdquo; whispered Marie, as she again leaned toward Moritz. &ldquo;They
+      wish to sell me and force me to a hated marriage. Do not yield! save me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mine, Marie; you have sworn to me eternal constancy, and no one
+      can compel you to marry if you do not wish to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are her parents; we can, and we will compel her,&rdquo; triumphantly cried
+      Frau von Werrig. &ldquo;The king has given his consent, and if it is necessary
+      we will drag her to the altar by force!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do it, mother, and I will say no before all the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will take care that no one hears you but the priest, and he will not
+      listen, as he knows that the king has commanded you to say yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But God will hear her, Frau von Werrig, and He will take vengeance on the
+      cruel, heartless mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will await this vengeance,&rdquo; she sneered. &ldquo;It does not concern you, and
+      you need not trouble yourself about it. Leave the house!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came here to speak with you, and I will not go away until you have
+      listened to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will leave, for I will not hear you, and I command you to follow
+      me, Marie!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She seized Marie with irresistible force, and drew her toward the side
+      door, which was fast. Then hurried toward the entrance, dragging her
+      daughter after her, but shook it in vain; that door was fastened also.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! I could kiss myself,&rdquo; murmured Trude, as she patted her old, wrinkled
+      cheeks. &ldquo;I was as cunning and wise as Solomon. There, shriek for Trude,
+      order her to open it. Trude is not there, and she has no ears for you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a plot&mdash;a shameful plot!&rdquo; cried Frau von Werrig, stamping
+      her feet. &ldquo;That good-for-nothing creature, Trude, is in it. She has locked
+      the doors, and the schoolmaster paid her for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude shook her fist at her mistress behind the door. &ldquo;Wait! that
+      good-for-nothing creature will punish you! You shall have something to be
+      angry about with me every day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear to you that I do not know who locked the doors,&rdquo; replied Moritz,
+      calmly. &ldquo;But whoever did it, I thank them from the depths of my soul, for
+      it forces you to listen to me, and may love give my words the power to
+      soften your heart. General and Frau von Werrig, I conjure you to have
+      compassion upon us. Is it possible that you are deaf to the cry of grief
+      of your own child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly assuming a contemptuous calm, Frau von Werrig sank back upon the
+      divan with great dignity. &ldquo;As I am obliged to listen to you, through a
+      shameful deception, let it be so. Try to make ears in my heart, which you
+      say is deaf. Let me listen to your wonderful eloquence!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Philip!&rdquo; said Marie, clasping his arms, &ldquo;you see it will all be in
+      vain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me hope to succeed in awakening a spark of loving mercy, as Moses
+      caused the fountain to gush from the rock.&mdash;A year since you turned
+      me insultingly from your door, Frau von Werrig, and you forbade me with
+      scorn and contempt to ever cross your threshold. In the rebellious pride
+      of my heart I swore never to do it again, never to speak to those who had
+      so injured me. The holy, pure love which binds me to this dear girl has
+      released me from my oath. We have tried to live separated from each other
+      a long year, an inconsolable, unhappy year! We hoped to renounce each
+      other, although we could not forget. Marie, as an obedient daughter,
+      obeyed your commands, and returned the ring, which I gave her in a moment
+      of affection and holy trust. I released her from the oath of constancy,
+      and made her free! But it is in vain! During this year I have striven with
+      sorrow as a man, helpless in a desert, who writhes in the folds of the
+      poisonous serpent. I should have gone mad if a consoling word from a great
+      and noble mind had not roused me from my desolation, and if love had not
+      shed a ray of light into my benighted soul. I listened no longer to
+      sickening pride and humbled sense of honor. Love commanded me to come
+      here, and I came to ask you, Marie, in the presence of your parents, if
+      you will be my wife; if you will accept my poor, insignificant name, and
+      be contented by my side to lead a quiet, modest existence. I can only earn
+      sufficient to assure us a peaceful life. I have no splendor, no treasures
+      to offer you, but only my love, my heart, my life, my whole thought and
+      being. Will you accept it, Marie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do accept it, Moritz, as the greatest happiness of my life. I desire
+      only your love, and I can return only my love to you! Here is my hand,
+      Philip, it belongs to you alone! Let us kneel in humility before my
+      parents, and implore their blessing.&mdash;Oh, my father and mother, have
+      pity upon us! See this dear man, to whom my whole heart belongs. I desire
+      only to live and toil with him. There are no riches, no treasures, to
+      compare with his love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;General and Frau von Werrig, grant me the wife of my heart!&rdquo; cried Philip
+      Moritz, deeply moved. &ldquo;It is true, I am not worthy of her, I have no name,
+      no position, to offer her, but I swear to strive to gain it for her. I
+      will win by my talents and knowledge a distinguished name, and perhaps one
+      day you will concede to my fame that I am a noble man, though not a
+      nobleman. Will you separate two hearts which belong to each other? Take me
+      for your son-in-law, and I swear to be devoted and faithful, to love and
+      honor you for your daughter&rsquo;s sake. I can say no more&mdash;words cannot
+      express all that I feel. Love causes me to kneel before you, love makes me
+      humble as a child. I implore you to give me your daughter in marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I also implore you,&rdquo; cried Marie, sinking down beside Moritz, &ldquo;give to me
+      this man, whom I love and honor, for my husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a beautiful and impressive scene&mdash;these two young beings
+      pleading for happiness; their eyes flashing with the inspiration of
+      feeling, conscious that they were one in affection, and ready to combat
+      the whole world for each other. But Frau von Werrig was immovable, and the
+      general was too much occupied with his gouty, throbbing leg even to cast a
+      look upon the beautiful group of youth, love, manly determination, and
+      tender resignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outside the door, Trude knelt imploringly, with folded hands, while the
+      tears ran down her old cheeks in big drops. &ldquo;O God, I well know that they
+      have no pity; have mercy Thou, and cause my dear Marie to be happy! Suffer
+      not that that hard-hearted woman should sell her, and marry her to that
+      bad man my Marie despises. I well know that I am a poor creature, and not
+      worthy that Thou shouldst listen to me, O Lord! But I love that young girl
+      as if she were my own child, and I would give my heart&rsquo;s blood for her.
+      Oh, my God! I implore Thee to let my Marie be happy!&rdquo; Then she continued,
+      as she rose from her knees. &ldquo;Now, I have spoken, and I commit every thing
+      to God, and He will do what is best. She has been obliged to listen to
+      him, and if it cannot be otherwise, he must go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carefully old Trude unlocked both doors, and then stopped to listen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude was right, there was no mercy in Frau von Werrig&rsquo;s heart. &ldquo;Have you
+      finished? Have you any thing more to say?&rdquo; she asked, in her most
+      unsympathizing manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing more with our lips, but our hearts still implore you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not understand this language, sir, and you have not succeeded in
+      giving me hearing, or ears to hear with. In this useless strife I will say
+      a last word, which I hope will be for life. You shall never be the husband
+      of my daughter! You can never be united.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie and Moritz sprang from their knees, laying their hands in each
+      other&rsquo;s, and looked what words could not have better expressed&mdash;&ldquo;We
+      are inseparable, nothing can disunite us but death!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I desire you not to interrupt me,&rdquo; commanded Frau von Werrig; &ldquo;I have
+      listened to you, and now you shall listen to me. I promise you to speak
+      with more brevity than you have. I will not trouble you with useless
+      phrases and tedious lamentations. I will speak to the point. Marie is the
+      daughter of General Werrig von Leuthen, whose name would become extinct if
+      the grace and favor of the king had not prevented it, by permitting the
+      husband whom we have chosen for our daughter to take our name, and
+      therewith become our son. You may think, in your arrogance of commoner,
+      and the pride you take in having won the love of the daughter of General
+      von Leuthen, that you could be this husband and son-in-law. But two things
+      fail you: first, the necessary fortune; and, secondly, the king&rsquo;s consent,
+      and that of her father. If you were rich, it might be possible that we
+      should be touched by the tender amorousness of our daughter, and conquer
+      our aversion to you for her sake. You are of low birth, and take a
+      subordinate position in society. It would be extremely laughable for the
+      schoolmaster Moritz to change suddenly into a Herr von Werrig Leuthen. Our
+      son-in-law must be a rich man, in order to be able to give his new title
+      consideration; and, fortunately, the wooer of my daughter&rsquo;s hand possesses
+      this qualification, and therefore we have given our consent. The king has
+      approved our choice, and permits the rich banker Ludwig Ebenstreit to
+      become our son-in-law, and take our name. The king has in this
+      communication, which lies upon the table, and which Marie has heard read,
+      given his assurance to ennoble Ebenstreit upon two conditions: first, that
+      the banker should give up his business, and live upon his income; and,
+      secondly, that the marriage should not take place until the papers of
+      nobility are made out and published, so that the daughter of General von
+      Werrig should not make a misalliance. You know all now, and you will at
+      last understand that there is but one thing for you to do&mdash;conquer
+      your foolish presumption, and beg to be excused for your unheard-of
+      boldness in forcing yourself into our house, and then withdraw quickly. If
+      my ear does not deceive me, your accomplice has opened the doors. I think
+      I heard rightly, if my heart has no ears, my head possesses better. We
+      have finished. I would again enjoin upon you the duty of begging for
+      pardon, and then I close this unrefreshing scene with the same words with
+      which it opened&mdash;there is the door&mdash;go out!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, there is the door&mdash;go out of it! I want to be quiet&mdash;go!
+      My daughter is the betrothed of the rich banker Herr Ebenstreit; she will
+      be his wife as soon as the papers are made out and published.&mdash;Go!&rdquo;
+       cried the general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young couple still stood there, hand in hand, looking at the general,
+      until now their eyes met, beaming with tenderest affection for each other.
+      &ldquo;Is it true, Marie? Speak, my beloved, is it true, will you be the wife of
+      this rich man whom your parents have chosen for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Philip,&rdquo; she calmly and firmly replied. &ldquo;No, I will not, for I do not
+      love him, I love only you; and here, in the presence of God and my
+      parents, I swear to you that I will be constant to death! They can prevent
+      my becoming your wife, but they cannot force me to wed another. I swear,
+      then, that if I cannot be yours, I will never marry!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I receive your oath, and God has heard it also!&rdquo; said Moritz, solemnly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have also heard it, and I tell you,&rdquo; said Frau von Werrig, &ldquo;that this
+      romantic heroine will become a perjurer, for I will find means to make her
+      break her silly oath.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will, perhaps, find means to delay the marriage,&rdquo; said Moritz proudly,
+      &ldquo;or, much more, prevent the marriage ceremony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very curious to know the means,&rdquo; said Frau von Werrig. &ldquo;From this
+      hour Marie is the betrothed of Herr Ebenstreit, and the wedding will take
+      place so soon&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So soon as the title of nobility is published. That is it, is the clause
+      to be filled; and therefore I tell you, beloved, wait and hope! This woman
+      is without pity and without mercy; but God is in heaven, and Frederick the
+      Great on the earth. Wait and hope. Be firm in hope, and constant in love.
+      Do not lose courage, and let them force you to compliance by threats and
+      anger. I have only you to confide in and to love in the world, and you are
+      my hope, my goal, and the happiness of my life. If you forsake me, I lose
+      my good angel, and am a lost, miserable man, whom it would be better to
+      hurl into the deepest abyss than let him suffer the torments of hated
+      existence. The knowledge of your love gives me strength and courage; it
+      will inspire me to fight like a hero, to win the dear, beloved wife, to
+      whom I would yield my life in order to receive it anew from her purified
+      and sanctified. The knowledge that I had lost you, would ruin me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Laying both hands upon his shoulder, Marie looked at him with eyes beaming
+      with affection, renewing her vow that she would never love or marry
+      another. &ldquo;We will be courageous in hope, and brave in constancy. Listen to
+      me, my beloved; listen, my mother&mdash;I betrothed myself to this dear
+      man! You can prevent my becoming his wife now, but in four years I am of
+      age, and then I shall be my own mistress. Then, my dear Philip, I will be
+      your wife. Let us wait and hope!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Marie, we will wait and hope.&mdash;Farewell! Do not forget that
+      there is a great God in heaven, and a great king upon earth.&mdash;Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He pressed the hand clasped in his own passionately to his tips, and felt
+      from the pressure of her delicate fingers a renewed vow of constancy.
+      Buoyed with this hope in the sad hour of parting, they were happy and
+      joyful. Marie accompanied him to the door&mdash;still hand in hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Presume not to go a step farther,&rdquo; commanded her mother, and Marie,
+      obedient to her wishes, remained near the door, bowed to Moritz, and never
+      ceased to regard him, with love beaming in her eyes, until the door
+      closed. Outside stood old Trude, to tell him that she would be at the
+      baker&rsquo;s at seven o&rsquo;clock every morning, and wait for his commissions, &ldquo;and
+      may be I shall have something to bring you,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;So do come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will, my good Trude; you are the only person who is friendly to us.
+      Watch over my angel, console her with your affection, and when they are
+      too hard upon her, come to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I surely will, but listen&mdash;they are already quarrelling with my good
+      angel. I will go in, to serve as a lightning-rod for dear Marie. I often
+      do it, and it pleases me when the lightning strikes, and dashes my hard
+      old head to the ground, but does not hurt me at all&mdash;Farewell, Herr
+      Moritz, the lightning-rod must go in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude entered suddenly and noiselessly the sitting-room, and interrupted
+      the angry reproaches which Frau von Werrig hurled against Marie in a
+      furious stream of words. The countess&rsquo;s rage turned against Trude, who
+      stared as if to challenge her. &ldquo;What do you want? How dare you enter
+      uncalled?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you were calling deaf old Trude, or why did you scream so?&rdquo;
+       replied Trude, tartly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps it was the general. Ah! there lies the poor, dear old man,
+      groaning and crying, and nobody has any pity for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Trude, it is good luck that you are here,&rdquo; whined the general. &ldquo;No
+      one troubles himself about me. Quick, bring warm covering for my leg, the
+      pain is fearful!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor, dear father, I will take care of you, I will nurse you,&rdquo; said
+      Marie, hastening to him. Her mother pushed her back violently. &ldquo;Not a step
+      farther; you have no right to go near him, you are his murderess. On your
+      head will fall the guilt, if these dreadful scenes should cause his
+      death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, the general will not die quite yet,&rdquo; said Trude busying herself
+      about his arm-chair. &ldquo;But, Fraulein, you have got something else to do
+      than stay here. They have already sent for the flowers twice, and the
+      French lady is waiting up-stairs to parlez-vous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie looked her friendly thanks, and quietly and quickly left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, bold woman, I have a last word to say to you. Who locked the door
+      when that creature came?&rdquo; &ldquo;I, madame,&rdquo; answered Trude, who was just
+      bringing a great cushion from the back-room to cover the general&rsquo;s feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You acknowledge that you locked the door intentionally?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, my dear, good Frau von Werrig, one does not lock a door by mistake.
+      I did not want Herr Moritz to run away with fright, before you had given
+      him your mind, and set his head straight. He would certainly have escaped,
+      and only heard the half of your beautiful talk, for he had no idea what a
+      miserable fellow he is. So I locked both doors, and he was obliged to
+      listen to you, and has gone away contrite and repentant. There, there, my
+      poor, dear general, is your foot high enough? Shall I not bring the
+      foot-warmer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall not bring any thing, nor do any thing more. You are a
+      hypocrite, who connives with Moritz. Leave my house this very hour! You
+      are dismissed my service. Go pack up your things and be off!&rdquo; cried Frau
+      von Werrig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, do not go, Trude, for mercy&rsquo;s sake, for then I have no one to help
+      me,&rdquo; cried the general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot do otherwise, she has given me my dismissal.&rdquo; Trude approached
+      Frau von Werrig respectfully, saying, &ldquo;So I must pack up and go away at
+      once?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Immediately, you deceitful creature!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Immediately! but Frau von Werrig will be so good as to give me my wages.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered in a slower and more subdued voice. &ldquo;That shall be
+      done presently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will not be so very difficult to reckon them, I have been here twenty
+      years; just as many years as Marie is old, for I came as child&rsquo;s nurse,
+      and have helped her learn to talk and walk, and played mother to the dear
+      child a bit. Then I obtained my wages, for they were good times; but the
+      pension-time came, and we had no cook or servant but me. &lsquo;The rats run
+      away if the ship springs a leak,&rsquo; but the old mole Trude stayed. Mankind
+      is in the world to work, I said, and why should not I be the cook and
+      waiting-maid too, that my little Marie should not want any thing? So I
+      became maid-of-all-work and have stayed here ever since. Then, you told me
+      you would double my wages, and give me twenty thalers a year, and four
+      thalers at Christmas. Is it not so, Frau von Werrig?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe that was the agreement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am quite certain about it,&rdquo; cried the general, who began to understand
+      the drift of Trude. &ldquo;Yes, Trude was to have twenty thalers a year, and we
+      are owing her many years&rsquo; wages. You know, wife, I have always kept an
+      account-book for the debts, and only a few days ago&mdash;Oh! oh! the
+      pain! Trude, help me cover up the foot warmer!&mdash;we reckoned it up a
+      few days ago, and we owe Trude one hundred and thirty thalers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One hundred and thirty thalers,&rdquo; repeated Trude, clapping her hands,
+      astonished. &ldquo;Is it true? oh, that is splendid. I shall be rich, and get a
+      husband yet. I pray you give it to me, Frau von Werrig, right away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not so quickly,&rdquo; said she, proudly. &ldquo;We will reckon together how much you
+      have saved&mdash;because&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; interrupted Trude, &ldquo;how good you are to make me keep so much; you
+      are my savings bank, where I can deposit my money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; she continued, with emphasis, without noticing the
+      interruption, &ldquo;our future son-in-law will pay your wages, the rich banker,
+      Herr Ebenstreit. Yes, the wealthy lover of our daughter. At the moment I
+      have not so much cash in the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your grace will allow me to stay until Herr Ebenstreit is married, and,
+      in your name, pays me my wages?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Trude, I will allow you to stay,&rdquo; she replied, very graciously. &ldquo;You
+      will be cunning, Trude, if you try to persuade Marie to accept the rich
+      suitor, for when she does I will give you two hundred thalers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do all I can to get it. Can I remain here until Marie is married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you have my permission for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, Frau von Werrig. Now, general, I will bring you some warm
+      coverings right away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now tell me, Wolf,&rdquo; asked Duke Charles Augustus, stretching himself
+      comfortably on the sofa, puffing clouds of smoke from his pipe&mdash;&ldquo;are
+      you not weary of dawdling about in this infamously superb pile of stones,
+      called Berlin? Shall we any longer elegantly scrape to the right and to
+      the left, with abominable sweet speeches and mere flattering phraseology,
+      in this monster of dust and stone, of sand and sun, parades and gaiters?
+      Have you not enough of blustering generals, of affected women? and of
+      running about the streets like one possessed to see here a miserable
+      church, or there a magnificent palace? Are you not weary of crawling about
+      as one of the many, while at home you stride about as the only one of the
+      many? And weary also of seeing your friend and pupil Carl August put off
+      with fair promises and hollow speeches like an insignificant, miserable
+      mortal, without being able to answer with thundering invectives. Ah!
+      breath fails me. I feel as if I could load a pistol with myself, and with
+      a loud report shoot over to dear Weimar. Wolf, do talk, I beg you, I am
+      tired out; answer me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reply, I shoot, my dear Carl,&rdquo; cried Goethe, laughing. &ldquo;I was out of
+      breath myself from that long speech. Was it original with my dear prince,
+      or did he memorize it from Klinger&rsquo;s great &lsquo;Sturm-und-Drang&rsquo; tragedy? It
+      reminded me of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean to accuse me of plagiarism, wicked fellow? I grant that you
+      are right, my cunning Wolf, it was a lapsus. I did think of Klinger, and I
+      sympathized with his youthful hero Wild, who declared that, among the
+      sweetest pleasures, he would like to be stretched over a drum, or exist in
+      a pistol-barrel, the hand ready to blow him into the air.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe shoved aside the breakfast-table, straightened his delicate form,
+      with his noble head proudly erect, and one foot in advance, extended his
+      right arm, giving one loud hurrah! &ldquo;Now, for once, a tumult and noise,
+      that thought may turn about like a weathercock. This savage noise has
+      already wrought its own benefit. I begin to feel a little better. Rage and
+      expand, mad heart, quicken yourself in hurly-burly-burly-burly!&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      From Klinger&rsquo;s tragedy &ldquo;Sturm und Drang.&rdquo;]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bravo! bravo!&rdquo; laughed the duke. &ldquo;Is that Klinger, or who is it that
+      refreshes himself in hurly-burly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is I who am every thing,&rdquo; replied Goethe, striding and swaggering up
+      and down. &ldquo;I was an assistant, in order to be something&mdash;lived upon
+      the Alps, tended the goats, lay under the vault of heaven day and night,
+      refreshed by the cool pastures, and burned with the inward fire. No peace,
+      no rest anywhere. See, I swell with power and health! I cannot waste
+      myself away. I would take part in the campaign here; then can my soul
+      expand, and if they do me the service to shoot me down, well and good!&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      From Klinger&rsquo;s tragedy &ldquo;Sturm und Drang.&rdquo;]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bravo! Wild, bravo!&rdquo; cried the duke. &ldquo;Hei! that thundered and rolled, and
+      struck fire! It does me good to hear such vigorous words from an able rare
+      genius in the midst of this miserable, starched elegance. The powerful
+      Germans are healthy fellows. Something of the Promethean fire blazes forth
+      in them. They were forced to come, those jolly, uproarious boys, after the
+      affected cue period; they were the full, luxurious plants, and my
+      Wolfgang, the favorite of my heart, my poet and teacher, is the divine
+      blossom of this plant. Let them prevail, these &lsquo;Sturmer und Dranger,&rsquo; for
+      they are the fathers and brothers of my Wolfgang. Do me the sole pleasure
+      not to refine yourself too much, but let this divine fire burst forth in
+      volcanic flames, and leave the thundering crater uncovered. Sometimes when
+      I see you so simpering, so modest and ceremonious, I ask myself, with
+      anxiety, if it is the same Wolfgang Goethe, who used to drink &lsquo;Smollis&rsquo; 
+      with me at merry bacchanals out of death-skulls?&mdash;the same with whom
+      I used to practise whip-cracking upon the market-place hours long, to the
+      terror of the good citizens?&mdash;the same who used to dance so nimbly
+      the two-steps, and was inexhaustible in mad pranks. Now tell me, Herr
+      Wolfgang, are you yourself, or are you another?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am myself, and not myself,&rdquo; answered Goethe, smiling. &ldquo;There still
+      remains a good portion of folly in me, and it must sometimes thunder and
+      flash, but I hope the atmosphere of my soul will become clearer, and over
+      the crater a more lovely garden will spread out, in which beautiful,
+      fragrant flowers will bloom, useful and profitable for my friends and
+      myself. Sometimes I long for this as for the promised land; then again it
+      foams and thunders in me like fermenting must, which, defying all covers
+      and hoops, would froth up to heaven in an immense source of mad
+      excitement!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let it froth and foam, and spring the covers, and burst the old casks,&rdquo;
+       cried the duke; &ldquo;I delight in it, and every infernal noise you make, the
+      prouder I am to recognize that from this foaming must will clear itself a
+      marvellous wine, a delicious beverage for gods and men, with which the
+      world will yet refresh itself, when we are long gone to the kingdom of
+      shades&mdash;to the something or nothing. You know, Wolf, I love you, and
+      I am proud that I have you! It is true that I possess only a little duchy,
+      but it is large enough to lead an agreeable and comfortable existence&mdash;large
+      enough for a little earthly duke, and the great king of intellects, Johann
+      Wolfgang Goethe. Let us return to our dear home, for I acknowledge to you
+      I sigh for Weimar. I long for the dear little place, where every one knows
+      me and greets me, and even for my dogs and horses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I,&rdquo; said Goethe, &ldquo;I really mourn for my Tusculum, which I owe to the
+      generous, kind duke; for the balcony of my little cottage, where, canopied
+      by the blue, starry vault of heaven, I dream away the lonely May nights.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there nothing else you sigh for but the summer-house at Weimar?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; cried Goethe, and an indescribable expression of rapture and delight
+      was manifest in his whole manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, why should I deny it, how could I? It would be treason to the Highest
+      and most Glorious. No, I long for my muse, my mistress, my&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beloved!&rdquo; interrupted the duke. &ldquo;I pray you not to be so prudish, so
+      reserved. Have the courage to snap your fingers at this infamously
+      deceitful moral code, and proud and distinguished as you are, elevate
+      yourself above what these miserable earthworms call morality. For the
+      eagle there is a different law than for the pigeon. If the eagle soars
+      aloft through the ether to his eyry, bearing a lamb in his powerful claws,
+      has he not a right to it&mdash;the right of superiority and power by God&rsquo;s
+      grace? Has he not as much right to the lamb as the pigeon to the pea which
+      she finds in the dust? If the pigeon by chance sees the eagle with his
+      lamb, she cries, &lsquo;Zeter! mordio!&rsquo; with the pea in her own bill, as if she
+      were in a position to judge the eagle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A beautiful picture,&rdquo; cried Goethe, joyfully&mdash;&ldquo;a picture that would
+      inspire me to indite a poem.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Write one, and call it for a souvenir &lsquo;The Eagle and the Dove.&rsquo; Make it a
+      reality, my eagle youth, bear off the white lamb to your eyry, and let the
+      world, with its affected morality, say what it likes. How can you bear to
+      see the one you love at the side of another man? Tell me, confess to me,
+      is not the beautiful Charlotte von Stein your beloved?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in the sense you mean, duke, not in the vulgar sense of the word. I
+      love her, I adore her, with a pure and holy sentiment. I would not that
+      Charlotte should have cause to blush before her children on my account.
+      She would be desecrated to me if I, in my inmost soul, could imagine the
+      blush of shame upon her cheek, or that her eye could brighten at other
+      than great, beautiful, and noble acts. I adore her, and to me she is the
+      ideal of the purest and sweetest womanhood. I rejoice that she is as she
+      is, like clear mountain crystal&mdash;transparent and so brightly pure,
+      that one could mirror himself therein. She stands above all other women,
+      and to her belong all my thoughts, and would, even if I were wedded to
+      another. To me she is the most beautiful of the beautiful, the purest of
+      the pure, the most graceful of the graceful, and all my thoughts are in
+      perfect harmony with hers. Now, duke, if it is agreeable to you, knowing
+      my feelings, to call Charlotte von Stein my beloved, she is so in the most
+      elevated sense of the word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! you poets, you poets,&rdquo; sighed the duke, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A streak of madness in you all, though I will grant that it is divine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say rather that Whit-Sunday comes to us every day, and the divine Spirit
+      descends daily upon us poets, and causes us to speak in unknown tongues.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will say that you are the god Apollo descended from heaven, and with
+      gods one may not dare to dispute. They act differently in their sphere
+      than we mortals upon earth. I will be contented if our ways cross from
+      time to time, and we can once in a while walk on together a good piece the
+      way of life in friendship and harmony. If it would please my Wolf, I
+      propose to turn toward beloved Weimar, the dear place, half village, half
+      city. For my part I am finished here, my business with General von
+      Mollendorf is accomplished. As I told you previously, I have had made
+      known to the king my refusal to allow recruiting in my duchy. I could not
+      consent for the present. In short, I have spoken as my secretary Wolfgang
+      Goethe has recorded.<i>[Footnote: This memorial upon recruiting is found.
+      &ldquo;Correspondence of the Grand Duke Carl August and Goethe,&rdquo; part, i., p. 4.]</i>
+      General Mollendorf has waived his demand for the present&mdash;and to-day
+      we have had the concluding conference, and if it is agreeable to my
+      secretary, we might set off this afternoon and pass a day at Dessau, and
+      then on to Weimar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, gladly will I do it; it seems as if a star from heaven had twinkled
+      to me to follow it, for at Weimar is centred all my happiness! I prefer a
+      lowly cabin there to all the splendor and palaces of a city.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you agree with me, that this magnificently vile Berlin does not
+      enchain you in her magic net?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, she holds me not, though it has been pleasant to take a peep into it
+      (like a child into a curiosity-box). I have seen &lsquo;Old Fritz.&rsquo; His
+      character, his gold, and his silver, his marbles, his apes and parrots,
+      and even his town curtains please me. It is pleasant to be at the seat of
+      war at the very moment that it threatens to break forth. It has gratified
+      me to witness the splendor of the royal city, the life, order, and
+      abundance, that would be nothing if thousands of men were not ready to be
+      sacrificed; the medley of men, carriages, horses, artillery, and all the
+      arrangements. All are mere pins in the great clock-work, only puppets
+      whose motion is received from the great cylinder, Fredericus Rex, who
+      indicates to each one the melody they must play, according to one of the
+      thousand pins in the rotary beam.&ldquo;<i>[Footnote: Goethe&rsquo;s own words.&mdash;See
+      Goethe&rsquo;s &ldquo;Correspondence with Frau von Stein,&rdquo; part i., p. 168. Riemer,
+      &ldquo;Communications about Goethe,&rdquo; part ii., p. 60.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right to compare the great man to the chief cylinder in the
+      machine of state,&rdquo; nodded the duke &ldquo;He rules and sets all in motion, and
+      cares not whether the rabble are suited or not. It has enraged me
+      sometimes to hear the fellows curse him, and yet I acted as if I heard
+      them not. Let us return to Weimar&mdash;mankind seems better there, Wolf.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At any rate, more regardful of us than they are here, duke. The greater
+      the world the uglier the farce; no obscenities and fooleries of the
+      buffoon are more disgusting than the characters of the great, mediocre and
+      insignificant, all mingled together. I prayed this morning for courage to
+      hold out to the end, and to hasten the consummation. I am grateful for the
+      benefit of the journey&mdash;but I pray the gods not to conduct themselves
+      toward us as their image-man, for I should swear to them eternal hatred.&ldquo;<i>[Footnote:
+      Goethe&rsquo;s own words.&mdash;See Goethe&rsquo;s &ldquo;Correspondence with Frau von
+      Stein,&rdquo; part i., p. 169.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you are ready to depart, Wolf?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Almost, dear Carl, or, if you will it, quite ready. A few visits I would
+      make, that the people shall not be too severe upon me and cry out against
+      my pride and arrogance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because they themselves are proud and supercilious, they are bold enough
+      to suppose Wolfgang Goethe is like them. I hope you will not visit the
+      very learned Herr Nicolai, the insipid prosaist, the puffed-up
+      rationalist, who believes that his knowledge permits him to penetrate
+      every thing, and who is a veritable ass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I am not going to Nicolai, Rammler, or Engel, or, as they should be
+      named, the wise authors of Berlin. I shall visit the artist Chodowiecki,
+      good Karschin, occasional poetess, and the philosopher Mendelssohn. Then,
+      if it pleases you, we will set out this afternoon, shaking the sand of
+      Berlin from our feet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall prepare whilst you make your visits. Will you take my carriage?
+      You know there is one from the royal stables always at my service, which
+      stands at the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beware! they would shriek if I should drive to their doors in a royal
+      carriage. They would accuse me of throwing aside the poet, and being only
+      secretary of legation. I will go on foot; it amuses me to push my way
+      through the crowd, and listen to the Berlin jargon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. GOETHE&rsquo;S VISITS.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Taking leave of his ducal friend, Goethe betook himself the street, to
+      commence his visits. Going first to Chodowiecki, the renowned delineator
+      and engraver, whose fame had already spread throughout Germany. When
+      Goethe entered, the artist was busy in his atelier, working upon the
+      figures of the characters in the &ldquo;Mimic,&rdquo; the latest work of Professor
+      Engel. &ldquo;Master,&rdquo; said he, smilingly, extending him his hand, &ldquo;I have come
+      to thank you for many beautiful, happy hours which I owe to you. You paint
+      with the chisel and poetize with the brush. An artist by God&rsquo;s grace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If the poet Goethe says that, there must be something in it,&rdquo; replied
+      Chodowiecki, with a radiant face. &ldquo;I have to thank you for the most
+      beautiful and best hours of my life, and I am proud and delighted to have
+      been able in the least to return the pleasure. The only blissful tears
+      among many bitter ones that I have wept, were shed over the &lsquo;Sorrows of
+      Werther.&rsquo; &lsquo;Gotz von Berlichingen&rsquo; so inspired me that he appeared to me in
+      my dreams, and left me no peace until I rose in the night to draw Gotz, as
+      he sat talking with brother Martin on the bench in the forest. Wait, I
+      will show you the drawing; you must see it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe examined it attentively, and expressed his pleasure at the
+      correctness and dramatical conception of the design, and did not remark,
+      or perhaps would not, that the artist was busily occupied with crayon and
+      paper. &ldquo;How wonderfully you have reproduced my &lsquo;German Knight,&rsquo;&rdquo; cried
+      Goethe, after a long observation of it. &ldquo;The middle ages entire, proud and
+      full of strength, are mirrored in this figure, and if I had not written
+      &lsquo;Gotz von Berlichingen,&rsquo; I would have been inspired to it, perhaps, from
+      this drawing. Oh! you artists are to be envied. We need many thousand
+      words to express what a few lines represent, and a stroke suffices to
+      change a smiling face into a weeping one. How feeble is language, and how
+      mighty the pencil! I wish I had the talent to be a painter!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I,&rdquo; cried Chodowiecki, &ldquo;would throw all my pencils, brushes, and
+      chisels to the devil, or sell him my soul, if I could cope with the genius
+      and intellect of the poet, Wolfgang Goethe. What a man! What a profile the
+      gods have given him! There! look&mdash;have you ever seen a man with such
+      a face?&rdquo; He handed Goethe the drawing, which proved to be a speaking
+      profile-portrait of himself, dashed off with a few strokes full of genius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe looked at it with the air of a critic. &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; said he,
+      perfectly serious, &ldquo;there are not many such profiles, but I am not of your
+      opinion that the gods fashioned it. Those sharp features look as if the
+      joiner had cut them out of oak, and they lead me to infer a very
+      disagreeable character. I naturally do not know who the picture
+      represents, but I must tell you, master, that this man could never please
+      me, although I could swear it is a speaking likeness. This sharp, bowed
+      nose has something impudent, self-sufficient in it. The brow is indeed
+      high, which betokens thought, but the retreating lines prove that the
+      thoughts only commence, and then lose themselves in a maze. The mouth,
+      with its pouting lips, has an insupportable expression of stupid
+      good-nature and sentimentality; and the well-defined, protruding chin
+      might belong to the robber-captain Cartouche. The great wide-open eyes,
+      with their affected passionate glances, prove what a puffed-up dandy the
+      man must be, who perhaps imagines all the women in love with his face. No,
+      no, I am still of the opinion that the original could never please me, and
+      if the physiognomist Lavater should see it, he would say: &lsquo;That is the
+      portrait of a puffed-up, quaint, powerful genius, who imagines himself
+      something important, and who is nothing! The likeness of a bombastic
+      fellow, with an empty head behind the pretentious brow, and meaningless
+      phrases on the thick lips.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If Lavater says so, he is a fool and an ass,&rdquo; cried Chodowiecki,
+      furiously, &ldquo;and he can hide himself in the remotest corner of the earth.
+      Lichtenberg of Gottingen is quite right when he says that this
+      empty-headed Lavater has made himself ridiculous throughout Germany with
+      his wonderful physiognomy of dogs&rsquo; tails and his profiles of unknown
+      pigtails. If Lavater is really so narrow-minded as not to be able to
+      distinguish a crow from an eagle, it is his own affair; but he shall never
+      presume to look at this portrait, and you, too, are not worthy, you
+      scorner, that I should get angry with you. The likeness is so beautiful
+      that Jupiter himself would be satisfied to have it imputed to him. It is
+      so like, that you need not pretend you do not know that it represents
+      Wolfgang Goethe. As you insult it, and regard it with scorn and contempt,
+      I will destroy it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For mercy&rsquo;s sake do not tear it,&rdquo; cried Goethe, springing toward
+      Chodowiecki, and holding him fast with a firm grasp. &ldquo;My dear good man, do
+      not tear it; it would be like splitting my own head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, ah!&rdquo; shouted Chodowiecki, &ldquo;you acknowledge the likeness?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do acknowledge it, with joy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And will you admit that it is the head of a noble, talented poet, a
+      favorite of the Muses? Say yes, or I will tear it, and you will have
+      terrible pains in your head your life long!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes! all that you wish. I am capable of saying the most flattering
+      things of myself to save this beautiful design. Give it to me, you curious
+      fellow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Chodowiecki, earnestly, &ldquo;I will not give it to you. Such a
+      portrait is not made to be put in a dusty portfolio, or framed for the
+      boudoir of your lady-love. All Germany, all the world should enjoy it, and
+      centuries later the German women will still see Wolfgang Goethe as he
+      looked in his twenty-ninth year, and hang an engraving on the wall in
+      their parlor, and sighing and palpitating acknowledge&mdash;&lsquo;There never
+      was but one such godlike youth, and there never will be another. I wish
+      that I had known him; I wish he had loved me!&rsquo; So will they speak
+      centuries later, for I will perpetuate this drawing in a steel engraving
+      of my most beautiful artistic work.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: This engraving from the
+      artist Chodowiecki still exists, and the author of this work possesses a
+      beautiful copy, which Ottille von Goethe sent her. It is a bust in
+      profile, the most beautiful of his youth.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a splendid fellow, and I must embrace you, and rejoice to be
+      immortalized by you, for this portrait pleases me exceedingly. I might
+      well be proud that this head with the rare profile is a counterpart of my
+      own. Now we are good friends. Before I say farewell, let me see the work
+      at which I just disturbed you upon entering.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe was about to raise the cloth, when Chodowiecki waved him back. &ldquo;Do
+      not look at it,&rdquo; said he, quickly; &ldquo;I dislike to appear as a mechanic
+      before you, as I wish that you should honor only the artist. We poor
+      toilers are badly off, as the old proverb is ever proving true with us,
+      &lsquo;Art goes for bread.&rsquo; We must be mechanics the chief part of our lives, in
+      order to have a few hours free, in which we are allowed to be artists. I
+      have to illustrate the most miserable works with my engravings, to buy the
+      time to pursue works of art.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the interest, friend, which you pay the world for the great
+      capital which the gods confided to you. Believe me, the artist Chodowiecki
+      would have but a morsel to eat if the mechanic Chodowiecki did not serve
+      him a tempting meal, paying the bill. Do not be vexed about it; man must
+      have a trade to support him, as art is never remunerated. <i>[Footnote:
+      Goethe&rsquo;s words&mdash;See G. H. Lewes&rsquo;s &ldquo;Goethe&rsquo;s Life and Writings,&rdquo; vol.
+      1., p. 459.]</i> I hope the mechanic will be well paid, that the artist
+      may create beautiful and rare works for us. This is my farewell visit
+      to-day, friend. If you will hear a welcome from me very soon, come to
+      Weimar, and see how one honors the artists there, and how well appreciated
+      Chodowiecki is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe embraced and kissed the artist, who regarded him, his face radiant
+      with joy, and would not be prevented from accompanying him to the house
+      door, as if he were a prince or a king. &ldquo;Now to Madame Karschin,&rdquo; said
+      Goethe to himself, as he hastened through the streets in that direction.
+      &ldquo;The good woman has welcomed me with so many pretty verses that I must
+      make my acknowledgments, in spite of my decision to keep the Berlin
+      authors at a distance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From Wilhelm Street, where Chodowiecki lived, to the tilt-yard, was not
+      far, and Goethe soon reached the old, antiquated house where the poetess
+      lived. After many questionings and inquiries at the lower stories and more
+      splendid apartments of the house, he found the abode of the poetess, and
+      climbed up the steep stairs to the slanting attic-room. The dim light of a
+      small window permitted Goethe to read upon a gray piece of paper, pasted
+      upon the door, &lsquo;Anna Louisa Karsch, German poetess.&rsquo; He knocked modestly
+      at the door at first, then louder, and as the voices within never ceased
+      for a moment their animated conversation, he opened it, and entered the
+      obscure room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do it, sir,&rdquo; said the little woman sitting in the window-niche
+      near a table to a young man standing near her. &ldquo;I will do it, though I
+      must tell you album writing is very common. But you must promise me to
+      return here, and let me see what Herr Rammler writes, and tell me what he
+      says about me. These are my conditions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Frau Karschin, I promise you, upon the word of honor of a German youth,
+      who can never lower himself to break his word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well! then I will write.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+There was perfect silence. The youth watched the little, dry hand which
+guided the pen, with a devotional mien, and Goethe with eager curiosity,
+who, unobserved, stood like a suppliant at the door of the obscure
+little room, the shabby furniture of which betrayed the narrow
+circumstances of the German poetess. It harmonized with the occupant,
+a little, bony, meagre figure, wearing a tight-fitting blue-flowered
+chintz dress. Upon the gray hair, which, parted in the middle, encircled
+the low forehead, was a cap, which had lost its whiteness and was,
+therefore, more in harmony with the ruff about her yellow, thin neck.
+Her sharp, angular features were redeemed by large, dark eyes, flashing
+with marvellous brilliancy from under the thick, gray eyebrows, and
+with quick, penetrating glances she sometimes turned them to the ceiling
+thoughtfully as she wrote. &ldquo;There, sir, is my poem,&rdquo; said she, laying
+down the pen. &ldquo;Listen:
+
+     &lsquo;Govern your will;
+     If it hinders duty,
+     It fetters virtue;
+     Then envy beguiles
+     Into fault-finding.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, how beautiful, cried the young man, enraptured. &ldquo;I thank you a
+      thousand times for those glorious words, and they shall henceforth be the
+      guiding star of my existence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go to Professor Rammler, and: then return and show me what he writes, for
+      I am convinced&mdash;. Oh, Heavens! there is a stranger,&rdquo; she cried, as
+      she discovered Goethe, who had remained standing by the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, a stranger,&rdquo; said Goethe, smiling, and approaching, as the happy
+      possessor of the album withdrew&mdash;&ldquo;a stranger would not leave Berlin
+      without visiting the German poetess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And without verses in your album; is it not so? I have become the
+      fashion, and if I could only live by immortalizing myself in your albums,
+      I should be free from care. Now I have divined it&mdash;you wish an
+      autograph?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! only a good word, and a friendly shake of the hand, for I possess a
+      poem and a letter which the good Frau Karschin sent me at Weimar some six
+      months since, written by herself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it Goethe?&rdquo; she cried, clasping her hands in astonishment. &ldquo;The poet
+      Johann Wolfgang Goethe, the renowned author of the work which&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cost you many tears,&rdquo; broke in Goethe, laughing. &ldquo;I beg you spare me
+      these phrases, which follow me upon my journey as the Furies Orestes. I
+      know that &lsquo;Werther&rsquo; has become the favorite of the reading public; he has
+      opened all the tear-ducts and made all lovers of moonlight as soft as a
+      swaddling-cloth. I could punish myself for having written &lsquo;Werther.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Frau Karschin laughed aloud. &ldquo;That is glorious! You please me! You are a
+      famous poet and a genius, for only geniuses can revise and ridicule
+      themselves. Welcome, Germany&rsquo;s greatest poet, welcome to the attic of the
+      poetess! There is the good word which you would have, and here is the
+      hand. Did you think it worth while to visit poor Karschin? I am rejoiced
+      at it, for I see that they accused you unjustly of arrogance and pride!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do they accuse me of it?&rdquo; asked Goethe, smiling. &ldquo;Can the Berlin poets
+      and authors never forgive me that I live at a court, and am honored with
+      the favor of a prince?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They would willingly forgive you if they had the power to push you one
+      side, and take your place. They are angry with you, because they envy you
+      and are not accustomed to be esteemed. Our prince and ruler, as great a
+      hero and king as he otherwise is, cares little for German poetry, and for
+      all he would care, the Berlin authors might starve, one and all; he would
+      trouble himself no more about them than the flies dancing in the
+      sunlight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The great king is still the same, then? He will never know anything of
+      German literature?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! he declares that it is the language of barbarians and bear-catchers;
+      scolds about us, and despises us, and yet knows as little of us as the man
+      in the moon. He adores his Voltaire. Old Fritz knows the French poet by
+      heart, but Lessing he knows nothing of. He abuses &lsquo;Goetz von
+      Berlichingen,&rsquo; and &lsquo;Werther&rsquo;s Sorrows.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! I know it all&mdash;I know the king&rsquo;s adjutant-general, von Siedlitz.
+      I often dine with him, and read aloud my poems to him, when he relates to
+      me what the king says to enrage me. You must know when I am angry I speak
+      in verse. I accustomed myself to it during my unhappy marriage with the
+      tailor Karsch. When he scolded, I answered in verse, and tried to turn my
+      thoughts to other things, and to make the most difficult rhymes. As he was
+      always scolding and quarrelling, I always spoke in rhyme.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in this way you led a very poetical marriage?&rdquo; smiled Goethe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, indeed, poetical,&rdquo; she said, and her large brilliant eyes were
+      dimmed. &ldquo;If it is true that tears are the baptism of poets, then I was
+      baptized daily for twelve years, and ought to be an extraordinary
+      poetess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That you are, indeed,&rdquo; said Goethe, &ldquo;who would dispute it? You have given
+      evidence of great poetical talent, and I read your heroic poem upon the
+      Great Frederick with real delight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know what he did?&rdquo; she asked, bitterly. &ldquo;I turned to him, begging
+      for assistance; for who should a poet turn to, but his God and his king?
+      Moreover, he had promised it to me personally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have spoken with him, then, yourself?&rdquo; asked Goethe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, eight years ago; General von Siedlitz procured me an audience. The
+      king was very gracious, and among other things, asked me about my life;
+      and as I explained to him my poverty and want, he most kindly promised to
+      help me.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: This interview which Frau Karschin had with the
+      king is found in &ldquo;Anecdotes and Traits of Character of Frederick the
+      Great.&rdquo; vol. ii., p. 72.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And did he not fulfil his promise?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, had it been given to the least of the French writers he would have
+      kept it, but to a German poet it was not worth while. What is a native
+      poet to the great German king? A phantom that he knows not, and believes
+      not. As great as he is, the king showed himself very small to me. I sang
+      him as a poetess and he bestowed a pittance upon me as one would to a
+      beggar in tatters by the wayside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it really true, upon your supplication&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sent me two thalers! Yes, that is indeed true, and I see by your smile
+      that you know it, and know also that I returned it to him. I had rather
+      die with hunger than take a beggar&rsquo;s penny. But let me relate to you what
+      happened two weeks since. I had borne patiently the affair of the two
+      thalers, and forgotten it. I am more comfortable now; the booksellers pay
+      me for my songs and poems very well, and a number of patrons and friends,
+      at whose head is the Prince of Prussia, give me a small pension, from
+      which I can at least live&mdash;though poorly. One of my patrons sent me a
+      strip of land on the Spree not far from the Hercules Bridge, where I would
+      gladly build me a little house, at last to have a sure abiding-place where
+      I could retire&mdash;that would be a refuge against all the troubles and
+      sorrows of life. As I thought it over, the old confidence and imperishable
+      love for the great king rose again within me, and as I esteemed him I
+      always hoped for the fulfilment of his promise. I applied to him again,
+      and begged him to do for me what he had granted to so many cobblers and
+      tailors, as the king gives building-money to help those who will build.
+      All the houses of the Gensdarmen-markt are built by royal aid, and
+      sometimes the king designs the facades, as he did for the butcher Kuhn&rsquo;s
+      great house; and sent him a design to ornament the frieze of ninety-nine,
+      sheeps&rsquo; heads, only ninety-nine, for he said the butcher himself was the
+      one hundredth. The butcher remonstrated, but he was obliged to keep them,
+      if he would have the building-money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really,&rdquo; cried Goethe, laughing, &ldquo;the king is an ingenious and
+      extraordinary man in every thing, and no one is like him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one is like him, and no one would have treated me as he did. I
+      addressed to him a poem, begging him with true inspiration and emotion to
+      let a German poetess find favor in his sight&mdash;and that he would be
+      for me a Maecenas, if I were not a Horace. My heart bled with sorrow, that
+      I must so beg and pray, and my tears wet the paper upon which I indited my
+      begging, rhyming petition. How much money do you think the great king sent
+      me for my house? Think of the smallest sum.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it was small, yet for building-money he would send you at least two
+      hundred thalers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The poetess burst into a scornful laugh. &ldquo;He sent me three thalers! The
+      great Frederick sent me three thalers to build a house!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you do? Did you take them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, proudly, &ldquo;and I will leave them as a legacy to my
+      daughter, as an historical souvenir for succeeding generations, who will
+      relate the benevolence of the German king for the German poetess. I sent
+      the king a receipt&mdash;I will read it to you.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;His majesty commanded, Instead of building-money, To send me three
+      thalers. The order was exactly, Promptly fulfilled. I am indebted for
+      thanks, But for three thalers can No joiner in Berlin My coffin make.
+      Otherwise to-morrow I would order Such a house without horror Where worms
+      feast, And, feasting, quarrel Over the lean, care-worn Old woman&rsquo;s remains
+      That the king let sigh away.&rsquo;&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: See &ldquo;Life and Poems of Louisa
+      Karschin,&rdquo; edited by her daughter.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you not laugh?&rdquo; said Frau Karschin, raising her flashing eyes to
+      Goethe, who sat looking down earnestly and quietly before her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot,&rdquo; he gently answered. &ldquo;Your poem makes me sad; it recalls the
+      keen sorrow of a poet&rsquo;s existence, the oft-repeated struggle between
+      Ideality and Reality. The blessed of the gods must humble themselves;
+      though they may raise their heads to heaven, their feet must still rest
+      upon earth; and to find their way upon it, and walk humbly therein, they
+      must again lower their inspired heads.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that makes me feel better,&rdquo; cried Karschin, with tears in her eyes;
+      &ldquo;that is balsam for my wounds. You are a great poet, Goethe, I feel it to
+      be so. You are a great man, for your heart is good and filled with pity.
+      How unjustly they call you cold and proud! Only be a little more yielding,
+      and call upon the Berlin poets and writers. You can imagine that the news
+      of your arrival ran like wild-fire through the town. Nicolai, Rammler,
+      Engel, Mendelssohn, and all the other distinguished gentlemen have stayed
+      at home like badgers in their kennels, watching for you, so as not to miss
+      your visit. At last they became desperate, and scolded furiously over your
+      arrogance and pride in thinking yourself better than they. Why have you
+      not called upon them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a loud knocking at the door, and the young man with his album
+      entered, almost breathless. &ldquo;Here I am,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I came directly from
+      Professor Rammler here, as I promised you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You saw him, then? Has he written something for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I saw him, and he granted my request.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And abused me, did he not, with his nose turned up? You must know,
+      Goethe, that Professor Rammler despises my poems, because I am not so
+      learned in Greek and Roman mythology as he is. Now tell me, my young
+      friend, what did he say about me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I promised you, upon my word of honor, to tell you every thing, but I
+      hope you will release me from the promise.&rdquo; sighed the young man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, that I will not. Much more, upon the strength of your word of honor,
+      I desire it. You promised, word for word, to relate it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it must be, then, let it be. I went at once to Professor Rammler&rsquo;s. He
+      asked me immediately if I had not been here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just as I asked you,&rdquo; laughed Karschin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I affirmed it, saying that you showed me his house. Upon which he asked,
+      &lsquo;Did she say any thing against me? She is accustomed to do it before
+      strangers, like all old women.&rsquo; He then turned over my album, and as he
+      saw the lines you wrote he reddened, and striking the book&mdash;&lsquo;I see
+      it, she knew she had said something about me. She tells every stranger
+      that I think she is censorious. What she has written is aimed at me.&rsquo; Upon
+      that he wrote some lines opposite yours, shut the book, and handed it to
+      me. I have not even had the time to read them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read them now, quickly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;He who slanders and listens to slander, let him be punished. She may be
+      hung by the tongue, and he by the ears.&rsquo;&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: This scene took
+      place literally, and may be found in &ldquo;Celebrated German Authors,&rdquo; vol.
+      II., p. 340.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is shameful&mdash;that is mean!&rdquo; said Frau Karschin, while Goethe
+      re-read the cutting epigram. &ldquo;That is just like Rammler; his tongue is
+      like a two-edged sword for every one but himself, and he fans his own
+      glories, and does not know that he is a fool. Frederick the Great himself
+      called him so. One of his generals called his attention to him, upon which
+      Frederick turned his horse, riding directly up to him, asking, &lsquo;Is this
+      the distinguished Rammler?&rsquo; &lsquo;Yes, your majesty, I am he,&rsquo; the little
+      professor proudly bowed. &lsquo;You are a fool!&rsquo; called out Frederick, very
+      loud, and rode away, as all around the &lsquo;Great Rammler&rsquo; laughed and
+      sneered. There are many such stories. Shall I tell you how Lessing teased
+      him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dear woman, tell me nothing more. I perceive your Berlin writers and
+      poets are a malicious, contentious set of people. I may well fear you, and
+      shall be glad to escape unharmed. Think kindly of me, and have pity upon
+      me; if the others are too severe, raise your dear hand and hold back the
+      scourge that it may not fall upon poor Wolfgang Goethe. Adieu, dear Frau
+      Karschin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe bowed, and hastened down into the street. &ldquo;With the authors and
+      poets of Berlin I wish nothing more to do, but with the philosophers I may
+      be more fortunate, and with them find the wisdom and forbearance which
+      fail the poets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe bent his steps to Spandauer Street, in which the merchant and
+      philosopher Moses Mendelssohn lived; hastened up the stairs, and knocked,
+      which was answered by an old servant, to whom Goethe announced himself.
+      The servant disappeared, and the poet stood in the little, narrow
+      corridor, smilingly looking to the study-door, and waiting for the &ldquo;gates
+      of wisdom&rdquo; to open and let the worldling enter the temple of philosophy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The crooked little man, the great philosopher, Moses, son of Mendelssohn,
+      stood behind the door, turning over in his mind whether he would receive
+      Goethe or not. &ldquo;Why should I? The proud secretary of legation has already
+      been in Berlin eight days, and wishes to prove to me that he cares little
+      for Berlin philosophers. My noble friend, the great Lessing, cannot abide
+      &lsquo;Gotz von Berlichingen;&rsquo; and Nicolai, Rammler, and Engel are the bitter
+      opponents, the very antipodes of the rare genius and secretary of legation
+      from Weimar. If he wishes to see me, why did he come so late, so&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr Goethe is waiting&mdash;shall he enter?&rdquo; asked the servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The philosopher raised his head. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; cried he, loudly. &ldquo;No! tell him you
+      were mistaken. I am not at home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old servant looked quite frightened at his master&mdash;the first time
+      he had heard an untruth from him. &ldquo;What shall I say, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say no,&rdquo; cried Moses, very excited and ill-humored. &ldquo;Say that I am not at
+      home&mdash;that I am out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a determined, defiant manner the philosopher seated himself to work
+      upon his new book, &ldquo;Jerusalem,&rdquo; saying to himself, &ldquo;I am right to send him
+      away; he waited too long, is too late.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: From Ludwig Tieck I
+      learned this anecdote, and he assured me that Moses Mendelssohn told it to
+      him.&mdash;See &ldquo;Goethe in Berlin, Leaves of Memory,&rdquo; p. 6.&mdash;The
+      Authoress.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. FAREWELL TO BERLIN.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter, my dear Wolf?&rdquo; cried the duke, as Goethe returned
+      from his visits. &ldquo;What mean those shadows upon your brow? Have the cursed
+      beaux-esprits in Berlin annoyed and tortured you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, duke, I&mdash;&rdquo; and suddenly stopping, he burst into a loud ringing
+      laugh, and sprang about the room, bounding up and down, shouting, &ldquo;Hurrah!
+      hurrah! Long live the philosophers, vivat the philosophers!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They shall live&mdash;live&mdash;live,&rsquo;&rsquo; shouted the duke!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vivat the philosophers! hurrah! To the May-sports upon the Blockberg they
+      ride upon a little ass with golden horns&mdash;with Pharisaical mien,
+      praying with their eyes, &lsquo;I thank Thee, O Lord, that I am a philosopher,
+      that I am not as the world&rsquo;s children, vain, proud, and arrogant.&rsquo; Hey,
+      good Carl Augustus, today a great revelation has been made known to me by
+      a philosopher. Wisdom flowed from his mouth. All the spiders in their
+      gray, self-woven nets, whispered and sang in his corridor, &lsquo;We weave at
+      the fountain of life, we spin the web of time.&rsquo; The little mice crept out
+      from the corners, whispering, Hallelujah! Here lives the great philosopher
+      Moses, who has devoured wisdom, and is unknowing of earthly vanities. Oh!
+      the mice and the spiders waltz together upon the threshold of the great
+      philosopher. Hey, ha! a waltz we will dance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe caught the duke with both arms around the waist, and tore around in
+      a giddy whirl, both laughing, both shrieking. Wolfshund, the duke&rsquo;s dog,
+      asleep in the corner, sprang up howling and barking at their wild bounds
+      and goat-like springs, and joined the dancers. As Goethe felt the ribbon
+      which confined his cue give way, he shook wildly his curly, powdered hair
+      and it fell in mad confusion. Both he and the duke now sank exhausted to
+      the floor, panting and laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven be praised, Wolf,&rdquo; said the duke, &ldquo;the must has once more
+      fermented, and sprung a few of the hoops of dignity?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Goethe, who suddenly assumed a grave, serious mien, &ldquo;the
+      must has fermented, and I trust a fine wine will clear itself from it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you not set off, Wolf?&rdquo; asked the duke, springing up. &ldquo;Have you had
+      sufficient of the Berliners?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have done with them,&rdquo; replied Goethe, &ldquo;not only with the Berliners, but
+      it may be with all the rest of humanity. I feel, my duke, that the bloom
+      of confidence, candor, and self-sacrificing love fades daily; only for
+      you, and the friend whom I love, is there still attraction and flagrancy.
+      Oh! you dear ones, be charitable, and do not consent that they fade for
+      you. Let the goodness which I read in your eyes, my dear Carl, and the
+      sunny rays of friendship strengthen the poor little blossom, that it does
+      not entirely fade and wither away!&rdquo; With passionate earnestness he threw
+      his arms around the duke, pressing him to his bosom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! Wolf, my dear Wolf, you have a child&rsquo;s heart and a poet&rsquo;s soul. Are
+      you faint-hearted and dispirited? Do you not know that you are the sun
+      which brings forth the flowers for us, and shines for us all? Let no
+      clouds overshadow you, Wolf! Let your fresh, youthful vigor, and divine
+      brilliancy, penetrate them. In the thick, sandy atmosphere of Berlin I
+      confess the sun itself loses its force and brightness! Come! let us be
+      off. Our steeds stamp with impatience.&rdquo; The duke drew his friend from the
+      room and joyfully they sprang down the stairs to the carriage, the great
+      dog following, howling and barking after them. &ldquo;Forward, then, forward!
+      Blow, postilion, blow! A gay little air! Let it peal through the streets,
+      a farewell song! Blow, postilion, blow! and I will moisten your throat at
+      the gates with the thin, white stuff, which you have the boldness to call
+      beer.&rdquo; The postilion laughed for joy, and the German song resounded in
+      quivering tones&mdash;&ldquo;Three riders rode out of the gate.&rdquo; He blew so long
+      and loudly, that the dog set up a mournful howl, and amid the peals of the
+      postilion, and the distressed cry of Wolfshund, they drove through the
+      long, hot streets of Berlin, through the Leipsic Gate, and the suburbs
+      with their small, low houses. The wagon-wheels sank to the spokes in the
+      loose, yellow sand of the hill they soon mounted, and, arriving at the top
+      of which, the postilion stopped to let his horses take breath, and turned
+      to remind his aristocratic passengers that this was their last view of the
+      city.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And will be seen no more,&rdquo; repeated the duke. &ldquo;Come, let us take a
+      farewell look at Berlin, Wolf!&rdquo; and away they sprang without waiting for
+      the footman to descend, and waded through the sand to a rising in the
+      fallow fields. There they stood, arm in arm, and viewed the town with its
+      towers and chimneys, houses, barracks, and palaces stretched at their
+      feet. A thick, gray, cloud of vapor and smoke hovered over it, and veiled
+      the horizon in dust and fog. &ldquo;Farewell, Berlin, you city of arrogance and
+      conceit!&rdquo; cried the duke, joyfully. &ldquo;I shake your dust from my feet, and
+      strew the sand of your fields over every souvenir of you in memory,&rdquo; and
+      suiting the action to his words, he tossed a handful of it in the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Farewell, Muses and Graces of sand and dust!&rdquo; cried Goethe, as his fiery
+      eye flashed far out over the fog-enveloped roofs. &ldquo;Farewell, Berlin, void
+      of nature and without verdure! the abode of poetic art, but not of poesy.
+      You Babylon of wisdom and philosophy, I have seen you with your painted
+      cheeks and coquettish smile, your voluptuous form and seductive charms.
+      You shall never ensnare me with your deceitful beauty, and suck the marrow
+      from my bones, or the consciousness of pure humanity from my soul.
+      Beautiful may you be to enslaved intellects, but to the free, they turn
+      their backs to you and thrice strew ashes on your head. Farewell, Berlin,
+      may I never see you again!&rdquo; <i>[Goethe, in fact, never visited Berlin
+      again, though he was often invited there, particularly when the new
+      theatre was opened, with a poetic prologue written by himself. They
+      inaugurated the festivity with Goethe&rsquo;s &ldquo;Iphigenia,&rdquo; the first
+      representation, and Prince Radzwill urgently invited the poet, through
+      Count Bruhl, to visit Berlin at this time, and reside in his palace. But
+      Goethe refused; he was seventy-two years old (1826), and excused himself
+      on account of his age.]</i> Goethe stooped and threw a handful of sand in
+      the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The postilion, tired of standing in the burning sun, blew loudly the air
+      of the soldier&rsquo;s song: &ldquo;Now, adieu, Louisa, wipe your face, every ball
+      does not hit.&rdquo; Mournfully the melody sounded in the stillness, like
+      accusing spirits who wept the insult of the prince and the poet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, on to our dear Weimar, Wolf!&rdquo; The carriage rolled down the sandy
+      hill, and Berlin disappeared to the travellers, lost in dreamy thought.
+      Slowly they advanced, in spite of relays and fresh horses at every
+      station. Night spread out her starry mantle over the world, and the
+      sleepers who rested from the burdens and cares of the day. Goethe alone
+      was wakeful and vigilant. With his beautiful eyes, as brilliant as fallen
+      stars, uplifted to heaven, to God, his manly bosom heaving with noble
+      thoughts and glorious aspirations, he reviewed the past, and recalled with
+      joy that he had accomplished much and well. He peered into the future, and
+      promised himself to do more and better. &ldquo;Yes, I will,&rdquo; whispered he
+      softly, pointing to the stars; &ldquo;so high as possible shall the pyramid of
+      my being rise. To that I will constantly bend my thoughts, never
+      forgetting it, for I dare not tarry; with the years already on my head,
+      fate may arrest my steps, and the tower of Babylon remain unfinished. At
+      least they must acknowledge the edifice was boldly designed, and if I
+      live, God willing, it shall rise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK III. STORM AND PRESSURE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Frederick commenced the campaign against the house of Hapsburg with all
+      the energy and bold courage of former days. The diplomats had once more
+      been permitted to seek the arts of negotiation, and, these having failed,
+      the king advanced rapidly, and entered Bohemia with his advance-guard. The
+      imperial army, informed of the approach of the enemy, retired hurriedly to
+      their intrenchments at Koeniggratz, beyond the Elbe, without a decisive
+      battle. In the skirmishes at the outposts the Prussians had been
+      victorious. On the opposite shore of the Elbe, at Welsdorf, the king took
+      up his headquarters. Why did he not pursue his bold run of victory? Why
+      did he not surprise the imperial army, which he knew was scattered, and
+      not in a position to resist the strength of the Prussian forces? Moreover,
+      the second column of the Prussian army, under the command of Prince Henry,
+      had also entered Bohemia, and fortified a camp near Rimburg, having united
+      with the Saxon allies, which caused the imperialists under Field-Marshal
+      Loudon to seek protection beyond the Iser, near Muenchengratz and
+      Yung-bunzlau. Why did the king then stop in the midst of his victorious
+      career? He had advanced to the field with his fresh, youthful fire, a
+      shining example to all. He was always mounted, shunning no danger, but
+      taking part in the hardships and fatigue incident to the changing life of
+      war; even showing himself personally active at the discovery of
+      foraging-parties. Why did he suddenly hesitate and lie inactive in camp?
+      Why did he not summon his generals and staff-officers to his quarters,
+      instead of his Minister von Herzberg? Every one asked himself the
+      question, and every one answered it differently.&mdash;Some said, &ldquo;Because
+      the Empress of Russia had raised objections to this war of German
+      brothers;&rdquo; others, that &ldquo;the King of the French had offered to settle the
+      quarrel as intermediator.&rdquo; A third said, the &ldquo;empress-queen, Maria
+      Theresa, was terrified at the rapid advance of the Prussians, and had
+      immediately commenced negotiations for peace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While the wise politicians of Germany and all Europe read and pondered,
+      Frederick tarried quietly in his peasant-house, in which he had taken up
+      his quarters, and which had been arranged very comfortably with carpets,
+      camp-stools, and curtains. He sat in his cabinet upon the high,
+      leather-covered arm-chair, which had been brought for him from the
+      neighboring parsonage. Alkmene lay upon his knee, and Diana at his feet.
+      His countenance was pale, and betrayed fatigue, but his eye beamed with
+      undimmed brilliancy, and around his mouth played an ironical smile. &ldquo;Well,
+      so matters stand; therefore, I have summoned you to Welsdorf,&rdquo; said
+      Frederick to his minister, Von Herzberg. &ldquo;The empress-queen is, above all
+      things, a most tender mother. She is fearfully anxious, now that the dear
+      young Emperor Joseph has left for the army, and will be exposed to the
+      dangers of war. My good friends in Vienna inform me that my entrance into
+      Bohemia created a sensation at the brilliant capital, and had so much
+      alarmed the empress-queen, that she was seriously thinking of negotiating
+      for peace. As I learned this from a reliable source, I halted and
+      encamped, that the empress should know where to find me, and sent to
+      summon you immediately. I had not been here three days, when the empress&rsquo;s
+      ambassador, Baron von Thugut, appeared to make offers, and consult about
+      an armistice of two weeks. I made known my conditions, and promised the
+      empress, through her negotiator, that I would so calculate my movements
+      that her majesty would have nothing to fear for her blood and her
+      cherished emperor. <i>[Footnote: The king&rsquo;s words.&mdash;See &ldquo;Prussia,
+      Frederick the Great,&rdquo; vol. iv., p. 102.]</i> Voila, mon cher ministre, you
+      know all now. If the Austrian diplomat comes a second time, you can
+      negotiate with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is your majesty also inclined to peace?&rdquo; asked Herzberg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king shrugged his shoulders. &ldquo;When it can be arranged with honor,
+      yes,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;I will acknowledge, Herzberg, to you, the campaign is hard
+      for me. The old fellow of sixty-eight feels the burden of life, and would
+      gladly rest quietly, and enjoy the last few years as philosopher and
+      writer instead of soldier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty has yet many years to live, God willing,&rdquo; cried Herzberg.
+      &ldquo;It would be a great misfortune to Prussia if she could not yet owe to her
+      great king a long and happy reign.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hem!&rdquo; replied the king, &ldquo;there are in Prussia very many who think
+      otherwise, and wish me to the devil. But I have no intention of seeking
+      monsieur so soon, for there are sufficient devilish deeds to endure in
+      this earthly vale of sorrow to prepare for one a very decent purgatory,
+      and give him hereafter well-founded hopes of heaven. Therefore I count
+      upon remaining here below a while, and to knead with you this leaven of
+      life that may yield to my subjects an eatable bread. You must help me,
+      Herzberg, when I am the baker, to provide the flour for my people; you
+      must be the associate to knead the bread. In order that the flour should
+      not fail, and the bread give out, it may be necessary, if possible, to
+      make peace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will your majesty be so gracious as to inform me what steps I may take,
+      and upon what conditions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take this paper,&rdquo; said the king, extending a written document to
+      Herzberg. &ldquo;I have therein expressed my wishes, and you can act
+      accordingly. I am prepared for peace upon any terms which can be made with
+      honor, and which do not frustrate the aim I have in view. You well know
+      that this is the security of Germany against Austria&rsquo;s ambitious love of
+      territorial aggrandizement! I cannot and I will not suffer that the house
+      of Habsburg should strive for unjust possession in Germany, and
+      appropriate Bavaria to herself while a lawful heir exists. I well know
+      that I play the role of Don Quixote, and am about to fight for the rights
+      of Germany as the Chevalier de la Mancha fought for his Dulcinea del
+      Toboso. Mais, que voulez-vous, it is necessary for my fame and repose that
+      I enter the arena once more against Austria to prove to her that I exist.
+      I take this step on account of the prestige I have gained in the German
+      empire, and which I should lose if I had not faced Austria in this
+      Bavarian contest. And besides, it is agreeable to me to accustom my
+      successor to the thunder of cannon, and witness his bearing on the field
+      of battle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will certainly do honor to the heroic race of Hohenzollern,&rdquo; answered
+      Herzberg, bowing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A sudden flash from the king&rsquo;s fiery eyes met the calm pale face of
+      Herzberg. &ldquo;Mere words and flattery, which prove that you are not
+      satisfied, Herzberg! Nay, nay, do not deny it; you do not like that I
+      should tarry and treat, and set the pen in motion instead of the sword.
+      You are a man of deeds, and if you had had your way, I should have already
+      won a decisive battle, and be on the road to Vienna to besiege the empress
+      in her citadel, and dictate an humiliating peace to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, I can assure you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, do not quarrel!&rdquo; interrupted the king; &ldquo;do you suppose I
+      cannot read your honest and obstinate face? Do you suppose I did not mean
+      what I said? Acknowledge that I am right! confess it, I command you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If your majesty commands it, then I will acknowledge it. Yes, I did wish
+      that your majesty had not empowered Baron von Thugut to return for further
+      negotiations. It would have been well if your majesty had marched
+      victorious to Vienna, to let the proud Hapsburgers see for once that
+      Frederick of Prussia does not stand behind them, but at their side; that
+      he has created a new order of things; that the old, mouldy, rotten
+      statutes of the imperial sovereignty have fallen in the dust before
+      Frederick the Great; that Germany must be newly mapped out, in order to
+      give room near the old man Austria for young Prussia. Yes, your majesty, I
+      could have wished that you had even been less generous, less noble toward
+      the supercilious, insolent enemy, and have accepted no conditions but
+      those of &lsquo;equality for Prussia with Austria in the German empire!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;My dear sir, I am truly astonished at the vigor with which you express
+yourself; I am very glad to find you so enthusiastic,&rdquo; said Frederick,
+nodding to his minister; &ldquo;but listen&mdash;I will confide to you that which
+I do not wish you to repeat: I am no longer, to my regret, what you so
+flatteringly call me, &lsquo;Frederick the Great,&rsquo; but only &lsquo;Old Fritz.&rsquo; Do
+you understand me? the latter is a deplorable, worn-out soldier, who no
+longer feels power or vigor. The lines of Boileau often recur to me on
+mounting my horse:
+
+     &lsquo;Unfortunate one, leave thy steed growing old in peace,
+     For fear, that, panting and suddenly out of breath,
+     In falling, he may not leave his master upon the arena!&rsquo; 
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      It is the misery of life that man will grow old, and that the body, when
+      worn and weary, will even subdue the spirit, and force her to fold her
+      wings and suffer. I did not realize that it had gone so far with me, and I
+      imagined that the winged soul could raise the old, decayed body. Therefore
+      I risked, in spite of my lazy old age, to undertake this war, for I
+      recognized it as a holy duty to enter into it, for the honor and justice
+      of our country, and prove to the Emperor of Germany that he could not
+      manage and rule at his will in the German empire. I long not for the honor
+      of new laurels, but I should be satisfied, as father of my subjects, to
+      gain a civil crown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you have my creed. I have as sincerely confessed to you as my
+      respectable cousin, the empress-queen, to her confessor; only I did not
+      fall upon my knees to you, and you do not as the said confessor, betray me
+      to the Holy Father at Rome.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty well knows that every word which you have the grace to
+      confide to me, is engraved upon my inmost soul, and that no power upon
+      earth could force me to reveal it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know that you are a true and zealous servant of your king and country,&rdquo;
+       said Frederick. &ldquo;Once more I say to you, other than an honorable peace I
+      will not make; and if empress-queen does not accept the abandonment of
+      Bavaria as the basis of peace, then I must conquer my aversion to war, and
+      the sword must arrange what the pen has failed to do. And now, passons
+      ladessus! Until Thugut arrives, let us speak of other things. I have been
+      tolerably industrious, and have improved the leisure of camp-life as much
+      as possible. I have written a panegyric upon Voltaire, and when it is
+      revised and corrected you shall arrange an anniversary in memoriam, at the
+      Berlin Academy, and read my eulogy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All Germany and all Europe will be surprised at the magnanimity of the
+      royal mind which could occupy itself in the camp with the muse, and erect
+      an imperishable monument to the man who witnessed such ingratitude and
+      baseness to his benefactor and protector.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vous allez trop vite, mon cher; vraiment, trop vite,&rdquo; cried Frederick,
+      ardently. &ldquo;It is true Voltaire was a miserable fellow, but he was a great
+      poet. He returned meanness and ingratitude to me for the many kindnesses I
+      showed to him, for I treated him more like a friend than a king. Voltaire
+      was my benefactor, in so far that I owed to him the most agreeable and
+      elevating hours of my youth, In memory of these hours I have written this
+      eulogy. It is not worthy of particular mention, and the Academie Francaise
+      will doubtless severely criticise my knowledge of their language. But it
+      is impossible to write well, one moment in camp and another on the march.
+      If it is unworthy of him whom it was intended to celebrate, I have at
+      least availed myself of the freedom of the pen, and will cause to be
+      publicly read in Berlin what one dares not whisper in Paris.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      The king&rsquo;s own words.&mdash;&ldquo;Posthumous Works,&rdquo; vol. xv., p. 109. This
+      eulogy upon Voltaire, which the king wrote in camp, Herzberg read, in the
+      November following, before the Academy.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be most happy to be the instrument to make known this generous
+      expression of your majesty&rsquo;s good-will,&rdquo; remarked Herzberg, bowing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Frederick smiled, adding: &ldquo;But with the other work which I have commenced,
+      you are not quite satisfied. You are such an enthusiastic German, that you
+      presume to assert that the intolerable German jargon is a beautiful and
+      expressive language!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I abide by this decision, your majesty,&rdquo; zealously cried Herzberg.
+      &ldquo;The German language is euphonious, and prolific in ideas, and it is well
+      capable of rivalling in brevity and clearness those of the ancients.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That you have already asserted, and I have contested it, and again I
+      contest it to-day. Do not trouble me with your German language. It will
+      only deserve notice when great poets, distinguished orators, and admirable
+      historians, have given it their attention and corrected it, freeing it
+      from such disgusting and effeminate phrases as now disfigure it, and cause
+      one to use a mass of words to express a few ideas. At present it is only
+      an accumulation of different dialects, which every division of the German
+      empire thinks to speak the best, and of which twenty thousand can scarcely
+      understand what the other twenty thousand are saying!&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: The
+      king&rsquo;s own words.&mdash;See &ldquo;Posthumous Works,&rdquo; vol. xv.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; cried Herzberg, with vehemence, &ldquo;should a German king thus speak
+      of his native tongue, at the same time that he takes the field to
+      vindicate the honor of Germany, and submits to all the miseries and
+      hardships of war? Your majesty cannot be in earnest, to despise our
+      beautiful language.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not despise it; I only say that it must be reformed, and shorn of
+      its excrescences. Until then we must use the French, which is to-day the
+      language of the world, and in which one can render all the master-works of
+      the Greeks and the Latins, with the same versatility, delicacy, and
+      subtlety, as the original. You pretend that one can well read Tacitus in a
+      German translation, but I do not think the language capable of rendering
+      the Latin authors with the same brevity as the French.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, to my joy, I can give you proof to the contrary. A Berlin savant,
+      Conrector Moritz, at my request, has translated a few chapters of the
+      fourteenth book of the &lsquo;Annals of Tacitus,&rsquo; word for word, most faithfully
+      into German. He has written it in two columns, the translation at the side
+      of the original. I have taken the liberty to bring this work with me and
+      you will see how exactly, and with what brevity, Latin authors can be
+      rendered into German, and that there are young learned men who have seized
+      the spirit of our language and know how to use it with grace and skill.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, give it to me,&rdquo; cried the king, zealously. &ldquo;I am truly curious to
+      admire the German linguist&rsquo;s work who has so boldly undertaken to
+      translate Tacitus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; said Herzberg, raising his eyes knowingly, with a mild, imploring
+      expression to the king&rsquo;s face&mdash;&ldquo;sire, I join a request with this
+      translation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it? I am very curious about a petition from you, it is so seldom
+      that you proffer one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, my request concerns the translator of this very chapter of
+      Tacitus. He is Conrector Moritz, attached to the Gray Cloister in Berlin&mdash;an
+      unusually gifted young man, who has undoubtedly a brilliant future before
+      him. He has already written many eminent works. The Director Gedicke
+      recommended him to me as a most distinguished, scholarly person, and I
+      have learned to know and appreciate the young man by this means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see it,&rdquo; nodded the king. &ldquo;You speak of him with great enthusiasm, and
+      as what you so warmly recommend is generally able and well qualified, I
+      begin to be interested in this Herr Moritz. When I return to Berlin&mdash;and
+      Heaven grant that it may be soon!&mdash;I will at once empower you to
+      present this luminary. Are you satisfied?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, dare I ask still more? I would beg your majesty to grant this young
+      man an audience at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How, at once! Is this phoenix here, who so interests my Minister
+      Herzberg? Where is he from, and what does he wish?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is from Berlin; I met him making the journey on foot. He sat upon a
+      stone, by the wayside, eating a piece of bread, with a glowing face, and
+      so absorbed talking to himself in Latin that he heard not the creaking of
+      my carriage through the sand. I recognized him immediately, and called him
+      by name. He turned, perfectly unembarrassed and not at all ashamed to have
+      been discovered in such an humble and poor position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is to say, he is a good comedian,&rdquo; said the king. &ldquo;He knew that you
+      would drive past there, and placed himself expressly to call your
+      attention to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg pardon, sire; Conrector Moritz could not have known that I would
+      take this journey. You will recollect that the courier arrived at midnight
+      with your majesty&rsquo;s commands, and two hours later I was on the road, and
+      have since travelled day and night. As I met the young man only five miles
+      from this place, he must have set out many days before I thought of
+      leaving Berlin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;it was a false suspicion. You invited him
+      into your carriage, did you not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did very naturally, sire, as he told me he was going to beg an audience
+      of your majesty. At first he refused decidedly, as he wished to travel on
+      foot, like the pilgrims to the pope at Rome.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An original, a truly original genius,&rdquo; cried the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is so indeed, and is so called by all his friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has he any friends?&rdquo; asked the king, with an incredulous smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sire, many warm and sympathizing friends, who are much attached to
+      him, and, on account of his distinguished and brilliant qualities, are
+      willing to indulge his peculiarities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herzberg, you are charmed, and speak of this man as a young girl in
+      love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, if I were a young girl, I should certainly fall in love with this
+      Moritz, for he is handsome.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Diable! I begin to fear this subject. You say he is handsome, learned,
+      wise, and good, although he belongs to the airy, puffed-up Berliners. Did
+      you let Herr Moritz wander on in his pilgrimage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sire, I persuaded him at last to accept a seat in my carriage, by
+      explaining to him that your majesty might soon leave Welsdorf, and he
+      would run the risk of not arriving in season. Upon no condition would he
+      get inside, but climbed up behind, for, said he, with a firm, decided
+      manner, &lsquo;I go to the king as a beggar, not as a distinguished gentleman.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed it is an original,&rdquo; the king murmured to himself. &ldquo;Do you know
+      what the man wants?&rdquo; he asked aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, your majesty; he said that his business concerned the happiness of
+      two human beings, and that he could only open his heart to his God and his
+      king.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is your protege?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He stands outside, and it is my humble request that your majesty will
+      grant him an audience, and permit me to call him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is granted, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just at that moment the door opened, and the footman announced that the
+      private secretary of his highness Prince von Galitzin had arrived, and
+      most respectfully begged an audience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is he&mdash;it is the baron,&rdquo; said the king. &ldquo;Tell your protege he
+      must wait, and come again. Bid the Prince von Galitzin enter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the Minister von Herzberg withdrew, the Baron von Thugut appeared, the
+      extraordinary and secret ambassador of the Empress Maria Theresa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Herr Baron, you are already returned,&rdquo; said the king, as he
+      scarcely nodded to the profoundly respectful bows of the ambassador. &ldquo;I
+      infer, therefore, that your instructions are not from the empress, but
+      from the co-regent, the Emperor Joseph, who has betaken himself to the
+      Austrian camp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; answered Thugut, laconically, &ldquo;I have driven day and night, and
+      have received my instructions directly from the empress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king slowly shook his head, and an imperceptible smile played around
+      his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does the young emperor approve of these instructions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, his majesty, the emperor, is only the co-regent,&rdquo; answered Thugut,
+      hastily. &ldquo;It is not therefore necessary, that my sovereign should make her
+      decisions dependent upon her son&rsquo;s concordance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The empress will negotiate for peace,&rdquo; said the king to himself, &ldquo;but the
+      emperor desires to win laurels in the war, and will try to cut off the
+      negotiations of his mother by a coup de main. One must be on his guard!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just then the door opened and Herzberg returned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You perceive I expected you, Baron von Thugut,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;and I
+      ordered here my minister of state, Herr von Herzberg. This is the Baron
+      von Thugut, my dear minister, the ambassador of the empress-queen, who
+      carries in his pocket peace or war, as it may be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I must protest against being so important a personage, as peace and
+      war alone depend upon your majesty. It alone depends upon the lofty King
+      of Prussia whether he will give peace and tranquillity to Germany, or
+      suffer the guilt of permitting the bloody scourge of civil war again to
+      tear in pieces the unhappy German nation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That sounds very sentimental,&rdquo; cried the king, smiling. &ldquo;The Baron von
+      Thugut will appeal to my heart, when we have only to do with the head.
+      Austria wishes to be the head of Germany, and as such would devour one
+      German state after another, as a very palatable morsel. But if you will be
+      the head, Monsieur le Baron, you cannot represent the stomach also, for,
+      as I have been told, it only exists in those soft animals of the sea whose
+      head is in their stomach, and which think and digest at the same time.
+      Austria does not belong to this class, but has rather a very hard and
+      impenetrable shell. We cannot let her devour as stomach what as the head
+      she has chosen as booty. That the electorate of Bavaria is not to be
+      devoured, is the necessary and fundamental preliminary upon which the
+      temple of peace may be erected. If you, or rather the empress-queen, agree
+      to it, the negotiations can be concluded by you two gentlemen. But if you
+      think to erect a temple of peace upon any other basis, your propositions
+      will be in vain. I have not taken the field to make conquests, but to
+      protect the rights of a German prince, and not suffer others to
+      appropriate a German state. I know, as you have said, that war is a bloody
+      scourge for the nation; but, sir, we will not look at it in a sentimental
+      light, and talk of civil war, when Austria herself compels us to take the
+      field. Or, perhaps, you imagine to prove to my good Pomeranians, Markers,
+      and my other German states, that the Croatians, Pandurians, Hungarians,
+      Wallachians, Italians, and Polanders, are our German brothers, which
+      imperial Austria opposes to us. I think this brotherhood may be traced to
+      our common ancestor, Adam, and in this sense all wars are indeed civil
+      wars. In any case war is a scourge for man, and I am convinced that the
+      empress-queen would just as willingly spare her Croatians, Pandurians,
+      Wallachians, and Galicians, as I all my German subjects collectively.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Also your majesty&rsquo;s Polish subjects, as may be expected,&rdquo; added Baron von
+      Thugut.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My Polish subjects are the minimum portion, and are about in proportion
+      to the German population as in imperial Austria the German is to the
+      foreign. But enough of this; if I do not recognize this as a civil war, it
+      is indeed a great misfortune. I would do every thing to avoid it&mdash;every
+      thing compatible with the honor and glory of my house, as well as that of
+      Germany in general. Therefore let us know the Views of the empress-queen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; answered Von Thugut, as he slowly untied and unfolded the
+      documents, &ldquo;I beg permission to read aloud to your majesty the acts
+      relative to these points.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, baron,&rdquo; answered the king quickly, &ldquo;the more minute details give to
+      my minister; I wish only the contents in brief.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At your majesty&rsquo;s command. The empress-queen declares herself ready to
+      renounce the concluded treaty of inheritance to the succession of Bavaria
+      at the death of Elector Charles Theodore; also to give up the district
+      seized, if Prussia will promise to resign the succession of the Margraves
+      of Anspach and Baireuth, and let them remain independent principalities,
+      governed by self-dependent sovereigns.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That means, that Austria, who will unjustly aggrandize herself by
+      Bavaria, will deprive Prussia of a lawful inheritance!&rdquo; cried the king,
+      his eyes flashing anger. &ldquo;I will not heed the after-cause, but I wish to
+      satisfactorily understand the first part of the proposition, that Austria
+      will cede her pretensions to Bavaria.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, upon conditions only which are sufficient for the honor, the
+      wishes, and necessities of my lofty mistress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You hear, my dear Herzberg,&rdquo; said the king, smiling, and turning to his
+      minister, &ldquo;c&rsquo;est tout comme chez nous. It will now be your task to find
+      out these conditions, which too closely affect the honor of one or the
+      other. For this purpose you will find the adjacent Cloister Braunau more
+      convenient than my poor cabin. At the conferences of diplomats much time
+      is consumed, while we military people have little time to spare. I shall
+      move on with my army.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How, then! will your majesty break up here?&rdquo; cried Thugut, with evident
+      surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king smiled. &ldquo;Yes, I shall advance, as my remaining might be construed
+      equal to a retreat. The arts of diplomacy may drag on until the
+      imperialists have assembled all their foreign subjects to the so-called
+      civil war. Then hasten the negotiations, Baron von Thugut, for every day
+      of diplomatic peace is one day more of foraging war, and I know not that
+      you count the Bohemians in the German brotherhood, to whom the calamity of
+      war is ruinous. You have now to deal with the Baron von Thugut, my dear
+      Herzberg, and I hope the baron will accept some diplomatic campaigns with
+      you in Cloister Braunau.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I accept, and if your majesty will dismiss me, I will go at once to
+      the cloister,&rdquo; answered Baron von Thugut, whose manner had become graver
+      and more serious since the king&rsquo;s announcement of the intended advance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are at liberty to withdraw. The good and hospitable monks have
+      already been apprised of your arrival by an express courier, and have
+      doubtless a good supper and a soft bed awaiting you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Had your majesty the grace to be convinced of my return?&rdquo; asked Thugut.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was convinced of the tender heart of the empress-queen, and that she
+      would graciously try once more, in her Christian mercy, to convert such an
+      old barbarian and heretic as I am. Go now to the cloister, and when I pass
+      by in the morning, with my army, I will not fail to have them play a pious
+      air for the edification of the diplomats&mdash;such as, &lsquo;My soul, like the
+      young deer, cries unto Thee,&rsquo; or, &lsquo;Oh, master, I am thy old dog,&rsquo; or some
+      such heavenly song to excite the diplomats to pious thoughts, and
+      therewith I commend you to God&rsquo;s care, Baron von Thugut.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king charged Herr von Herzberg to play the role of grand-chamberlain,
+      and accompany the ambassador to his carriage, smiling, and slightly
+      nodding a farewell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The baron was on the point of leaving, when the king called to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Had your majesty the grace to call me?&rdquo; asked Thugut, hastily turning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; answered Frederick, smiling, and pointing to the string which had
+      served to bind the baron&rsquo;s papers. &ldquo;You have forgotten something, my lord,
+      and I do not like to enrich myself with others&rsquo; property.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      Historical. The king&rsquo;s words.&mdash;See Hormayr.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Baron von Thugut took this last well-aimed stab of his royal opponent
+      somewhat embarrassed, and hastened to pick up the string, and withdraw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. THE KING AND THE LOVER.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The king smiled, glancing at the retreating figure of the baron, and
+      approached the window to peep through the little green glass panes to see
+      him as he passed by.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A sly fox,&rdquo; said he, smiling, &ldquo;but I will prove to him that we understand
+      fox-hunting, and are not deceived by cunning feints.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will your majesty really break up to-day?&rdquo; asked Von Herzberg, upon
+      returning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my dear minister. That is to say, I do not wish to, but I must, in
+      order to give the negotiations for peace a war-like character. The enemy
+      asks for delay to finish their preparations for war&mdash;not peace. The
+      negotiations for the latter emanate from the empress, but the conditions
+      concerning Anspach come from the emperor. It is the Eris-apple, which he
+      casts upon the table, by which his imperial mother and I would gladly
+      smoke the pipe of peace. It is incumbent upon you, Herzberg, to negotiate
+      for peace, while I pick up the apple and balance it a little upon the
+      point of my sword. I shall leave early to-morrow, but I would speak with
+      you before I set out. You must be weary with the journey, so rest awhile
+      now, then dine with me, and afterward go to the conference.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, will you not receive my protege, Conrector Moritz?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you not say that he begged for a secret audience?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sire, he has for this purpose travelled the long distance from
+      Berlin, and I assure your majesty, upon my word of honor, that I have not
+      the least suspicion what his petition may be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh bien, say to your protege that I grant him the sought-for interview on
+      your account, Herzberg. You are such a curious fellow&mdash;you are always
+      petitioning for others instead of yourself, and the benefits which you
+      ought to receive go to them. Let Moritz enter, and then try to sleep a
+      little, that you may be wide awake to confer with Baron von Thugut.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Minister von Herzberg withdrew, and immediately the pale, earnest face of
+      Conrector Philip Moritz appeared in the royal presence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king regarded him with a prolonged and searching glance, the noble,
+      resolute face of whom was pallid with deep grief, but from whose eyes
+      there beamed courageous energy. &ldquo;Are you the translator of the chapters
+      from Tacitus, which my Minister Herzberg handed me?&rdquo; asked the king, after
+      a pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sire,&rdquo; gently answered Moritz.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am told that it is ably done,&rdquo; continued his majesty, still attentively
+      observing him. &ldquo;You will acknowledge that it is exceedingly difficult to
+      render the concise style of Tacitus into the prolix, long-winded German?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, sire,&rdquo; replied Moritz, whose youthful impetuosity could with
+      difficulty be diverted from the real object of his pilgrimage. &ldquo;Our
+      language is by no means long-winded, and there is no difficulty in
+      translating Latin authors into German, which equals any living tongue in
+      beauty and sonorousness, and surpasses them all in depth of thought,
+      power, and poesy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Diable!&rdquo; cried the king, smiling; &ldquo;you speak like an incarnate German
+      philologist, who confounds the sound of words with profound thought. You
+      will acknowledge that until now our language has not been much known.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; answered Moritz, &ldquo;Martin Luther, in his translation of the Bible
+      three hundred years since, employed hundreds of beautiful, expressive
+      formations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not only a learned man,&rdquo; said the king to himself, &ldquo;but he seems an
+      honorable one; and now, as I have proved his scholarly attainments, I must
+      indulge his impatience.&rdquo; The king&rsquo;s penetrating glance softened, and his
+      features changed their severe expression. &ldquo;The Minister von Herzberg
+      informed me that he found you by the roadside, and that you would journey
+      hither on foot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true, sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you travel in that manner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I desired, as the poor, heavily-laden pilgrims of the middle ages,
+      to make the pilgrimage to the Holy Father at Rome, who was the king of
+      kings. Every step in advance seemed to them to lighten their burden and
+      enhance their happiness. Your majesty is in our day what the pope was held
+      to be in the middle ages, therefore I have wandered as a pilgrim to my
+      king, who has the power to bind and to loose, and from whom I must not
+      only implore personal happiness, but that also of a good and amiable young
+      girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! it concerns a love-affair. As I now look at you, I can understand
+      that. You are young and passionate, and the maidens have eyes. How can I
+      help you in such an adventure?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, by not granting a title to a certain person, or if it must be
+      granted, annul the conditions attendant upon it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not understand you,&rdquo; answered the king, harshly. &ldquo;Speak not in
+      riddles. What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;General Werrig von Leuthen has addressed himself to you, sire, praying
+      for the consent of your majesty to the marriage of his daughter with the
+      banker Ebenstreit. Your majesty has consented, and added that Herr
+      Ebenstreit shall take the name of his future father-in-law, and the
+      marriage shall take place as soon as the title of nobility has been made
+      out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king nodded. &ldquo;For which the new-made nobleman has to pay a hundred
+      louis d&rsquo;ors to the Invalids at Berlin. But what is that to you? And what
+      connection has Herr Ebenstreit&rsquo;s title to do with Conrector Moritz?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Moritz&rsquo;s face brightened, and, deeply moved, he answered: &ldquo;Sire, I love
+      the daughter of General von Leuthen, and she returns my love. By not
+      ennobling Ebenstreit, it lies in your power, most gracious majesty, to
+      make two persons the most blessed of God&rsquo;s creatures, who desire nothing
+      more than to wander hand in hand through life, loving and trusting each
+      other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that all?&rdquo; asked the king, with a searching glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Moritz quailed beneath it, and cast down his eyes. &ldquo;No!&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;As I
+      now stand in the presence of your majesty, I am sensible of the boldness
+      of my undertaking, and words fail me to express what is burning in my
+      soul. Oh! sire, I only know that we love each other, and that this love is
+      the first sunbeam which has fallen upon my gloomy and thorny path of life,
+      and awakened in my lonely heart all the bloom of feeling. You smile, and
+      your great spirit may well mock the poor human being who thinks of
+      personal happiness, when for an idea merely thousands are killed upon the
+      field of battle. My life, sire, has been a great combat, in which I have
+      striven with all the demons escaped from Pandora&rsquo;s box. I have grown up
+      amid privations and need. I have lived and suffered, until God recompensed
+      my joyless, toiling, hungered existence by this reciprocated love, which
+      is a beautiful ornament to my life, and is life itself, and to renounce it
+      would be to renounce life. I am young, sire, and I long for the unknown
+      paradise of earthly happiness, which I have never entered until now, and
+      which I can only attain led by the hand of my beloved. I yearn just once,
+      as other privileged men, to bask in the sunshine of happiness a long,
+      beautiful summer day, and then at the golden sunset to sink upon my knees
+      and cry, &lsquo;I thank Thee, O God, that in Thy goodness I have recognized Thy
+      sublimity, and that Thou hast revealed thy glory to me.&rsquo; All this appears
+      of little importance to your majesty, for the heart of a king is not like
+      that of other men, and the personal happiness of individuals appears a
+      matter of little account to him who thinks and works for the good of an
+      entire nation. But the fly, sire, which is sunning itself upon the plumes
+      of the helmet of a victorious king, has its right to happiness, for God
+      created it with the same care and love that He created the noblest of His
+      creatures&mdash;man! and it would be cruel to kill it without necessity.
+      Sire, I do not extol myself. I know that in your eyes I am no more than
+      the fly upon your helmet, but I only implore you to grant me my life, for
+      God has given it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean by this that I shall forbid General von Leuthen to marry his
+      daughter to the rich man who seeks her, and to which marriage, understand
+      me well, I have already given my consent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I only know that this union drives not only me to despair, but one
+      of the noblest and best of God&rsquo;s creatures. Fraulein von Leuthen does not
+      love the bridegroom forced upon her; she detests him, and she has good
+      reason to, for the banker Ebenstreit is a cold-hearted, purse-proud man,
+      enfeebled by a voluptuous, vicious life, and seeks nothing nobler and more
+      elevated in the young girl to whom he has offered his hand, than the title
+      and noble name which she can procure for him. Your majesty, I implore not
+      for myself, but for the daughter of a man who once had the good fortune to
+      save your life in battle! Have pity upon her, and do not sacrifice her to
+      an inconsolably hopeless life by the side of an unloved and detested
+      husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king slowly shook his head. &ldquo;You forget that the general to whom I am
+      indebted for this favor has begged my consent to this marriage, and that I
+      have granted it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I conjure you to recall it! Upon my knees I implore you not to
+      grant it! Do not make two people unhappy, who only beg of your majesty the
+      permission to love and live with each other!&rdquo; Moritz threw himself at the
+      king&rsquo;s feet, praying with clasped hands, his face flushed with deep
+      emotion, and his eyes dimmed with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rise!&rdquo; commanded Frederick, &ldquo;rise, do not kneel to me as to a God. I am a
+      feeble mortal, subject to the same ills which threaten you and the whole
+      human race. Rise, and answer me one question&mdash;are you rich?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Moritz, proudly raising his head; &ldquo;no, I am poor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know that Fraulein von Leuthen is poor? Her father is worse off
+      than Job, for he is in debt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If General von Leuthen&rsquo;s daughter were rich, or even moderately well off,
+      I never would have presumed to address your majesty on the subject, for
+      fear that you might misconstrue my intentions, and suppose that my love
+      was inspired by self-interest. Fortunately, Marie possesses nothing but
+      her noble, beautiful self. She leads a joyless existence under the severe
+      discipline of her cold-hearted parents; and therefore I can truthfully
+      say, that with me she will lose nothing, but gain what she has never known&mdash;a
+      tranquil, happy life, protected by my love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much salary do you receive as teacher?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Majesty, as conrector of the college attached to the Gray Monastery,
+      three hundred and fifty dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you expect to live upon that yourself, and support a family besides?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I shall earn money in other ways, as I have already done. I shall
+      write books. The publishers tell me that I am a favorite author, and they
+      pay me well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If on the morrow you should fall ill, your income would vanish, and your
+      family and you would starve together. No! no! you are an idealist, you
+      dream how life should be, and not as it is in truth! I have listened to
+      you, thinking that you would present some forcible argument upon which to
+      found your pretensions, but I hear only the ravings of a lover, who
+      believes the world turns upon the axis of his happiness. Let me tell you
+      that love is an ephemera, which merrily sports in the sunlight a few short
+      hours, and dies at sunset. Should a king forfeit his word for such a
+      short-lived bliss? Should he reward a man to whom he is indebted by
+      depriving him of a rich son-in-law, who is agreeable to him, and
+      substituting a poor one, from whom he can never hope to receive a
+      comfortable maintenance? You young people are all alike. You think only of
+      yourselves, and it is a matter of little consequence to you if the aged
+      pine away and die, provided you build up happiness on their graves! I ask
+      you, who have talked so much about your own wishes, and those of your
+      beloved, where is it written that man must be happy, that there is a
+      necessity to make him so? Do you suppose that I have ever been happy&mdash;who
+      have a long, active life in retrospection? Mankind have taken good care
+      that I should not sip this nectar of the gods, and have taught me early to
+      renounce it. Life is not consumed in pleasure, but in toil, and I believe
+      its only happiness consists in the fact that at last, when weary and worn,
+      we will sink into the grave&mdash;to an eternal rest! Every human being
+      must work according to his abilities, and in the position which Fate has
+      assigned to him. To maintain this position, his honor is at stake&mdash;the
+      best and most sacred gift confided to man. You will not desert it&mdash;not
+      despair in life because your dream of bliss is not realized.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; answered Moritz, with a cry of anguish, &ldquo;it is no dream, but a
+      reality!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Happiness is only ideal,&rdquo; said the king, slowly shaking his head. &ldquo;What
+      we sigh for to-day, we curse on the morrow as a misfortune. Let this serve
+      as a lesson to you. Toil on&mdash;you are a scholar; woo Science for your
+      bride. Her charms will never fade. In youth as in old age she will attract
+      you by her beauty and constancy&mdash;that which you cannot hope for from
+      women.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; asked Moritz, in deep dejection, &ldquo;will you not grant the petition
+      of my heart? Will you condemn this poor, innocent young girl who prays
+      your majesty through me, to a long, joyless existence, to a daily-renewing
+      sorrow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king shrugged his shoulders. &ldquo;I have already said that happiness is
+      imaginary; I might have added unhappiness also. General von Leuthen&rsquo;s
+      daughter will accustom herself to the misfortune of being a rich man&rsquo;s
+      wife, and finally will drive with a smiling face in her four-in-hand
+      gilded carriage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I swear to you that you mistake this dear, noble-hearted young
+      girl, you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough!&rdquo; interrupted the king. &ldquo;I have given my consent to General von
+      Leuthen, and I cannot recall it. Moreover, the marriage of the daughter of
+      my general with you would be a misalliance&mdash;ridiculous. In the
+      republic of intellect and science, you may have a very high position, but
+      in my earthly kingdom you hold too modest a one to presume to raise your
+      eyes to a noble young lady. I regret that I can offer you no other
+      consolation than to listen to reason, and be resigned. As we cannot bring
+      down the moon to earth, we must content ourselves with a lamp to light up
+      our small earthly abode. If this ever should fail you, then come to me and
+      I will assist you. I cannot, to be sure, give you the moon, for that
+      belongs as little to me as the bride of the rich Herr Ebenstreit von
+      Leuthen. One cannot give away that which one does not possess. Farewell!
+      return to Berlin, and resign yourself bravely to your fate. Accustom
+      yourself to the thought that in fourteen days Fraulein von Leuthen will
+      become the wife of your wealthy rival. The wedding ceremony awaits only
+      the papers of nobility, for which my order has already been forwarded to
+      Berlin. I moreover propose to you not to return to the college at once,
+      but travel for two weeks. I will be responsible for your absence, and
+      provide you with the necessary means. Now tell me whether you accept my
+      proposal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks to your majesty, I cannot,&rdquo; answered Moritz, with calm dignity.
+      &ldquo;There is but one balm which my king could grant me. Money is not a
+      plaster to soothe and heal a wounded heart. Sire, I beg you to dismiss me,
+      for I will return at once to Berlin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope that you have not the foolish idea to return on foot,&rdquo; said the
+      king. &ldquo;My courier will leave in an hour, and there are two places in the
+      coupe, accept one of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; said Moritz, gloomily, &ldquo;I&mdash;&rdquo; suddenly the words died on his
+      lips, and his eyes beamed with an unnatural fire, which paled under the
+      observing glance of the king. &ldquo;I thank you,&rdquo; said Moritz, gasping, &ldquo;I will
+      accept it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king nodded. &ldquo;Au revoir, in Berlin! When I return after the campaign I
+      will send for you. You will then have learned to forget your so-called
+      misfortune, and smile at your pilgrimage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot think so, sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am convinced of it. Farewell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Moritz answered the royal salutation with a mute bow, and withdrew with
+      drooping head and sorrowful heart. The king continued to regard him with
+      an expression of deep sadness. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he sighed, &ldquo;how enviable are those
+      who can still believe in love&rsquo;s illusion, and who have not awakened from
+      their dream of bliss by sad experience or age! How long since I have
+      banished these dreams&mdash;how long I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king ceased, his head sank back upon his chair, his large, fiery eyes,
+      peering into the distance, as if he would re-people it with the memories
+      of youth, with the delusions from which he had so long awakened. Those
+      lovely, charming forms flitted before him one by one which had then
+      captivated him: the beautiful Frau von Wrechem, his first love, and to
+      whom he had vowed eternal constancy; another sweet, innocent face that
+      suffered shame and degradation for him&mdash;&ldquo;oh! Doris, Doris, dream of
+      my youth, fly past!&rdquo;&mdash;and now the face with the large eyes and
+      energetic features, which turned so tenderly to him, that of his sister
+      Frederika, who from affection to the crown prince had sacrificed herself
+      to an unloved husband in order to reconcile the son with the father, and
+      preserve for him the inheritance to the throne; still another calm and
+      gentle face, with the expression of sorrowful resignation in the deep-blue
+      eyes, that of his wife, who had so passionately loved him, and had faded
+      away at his side unloved! All past&mdash;past. A new face arose, the
+      pretty Leontine von Morien, the tourbillon of the princely court at
+      Rheinsberg, who pined away in sighs. Now passed the sweetest and loveliest
+      of all. The king&rsquo;s eyes, which stared into empty space, now beamed with
+      glad recognition. The heart which had grown old and sobered beat with
+      feverish rapidity, and the compressed lips whispered, sighing,
+      &ldquo;Barbarina!&rdquo; She stood before him in her bewitching beauty, with the
+      charming smile upon her ruby lips, and passionate love beaming from her
+      flashing eyes. &ldquo;Oh, Barbarina!&rdquo; The king rose, a cold chill crept over
+      him. He looked around so strangely in the desolate, darkened room, as if
+      he could still see this form which greeted him with the sad smile and
+      tearful glance. No one was there. He was quite alone. Only the feeble echo
+      of far-distant days repeated the device of his youth&mdash;of his life:
+      &ldquo;Soffri e taci! Resignation alone has remained true to me. But no&mdash;there
+      is still another friend, my flute. Come, you faithful companion of my
+      life! You have witnessed my sorrows, and from you I have nothing to
+      conceal!&rdquo; He tenderly regarded it, for it was long since he had taken it
+      from its case. The sorrows and cares of life, the suffering from the gout
+      which raged in his teeth, and sad, sobering old age, had caused him to lay
+      it aside, but with the habit of affection he carried it everywhere.
+      Frederick felt himself grow young again with the souvenirs of former days,
+      and essayed to recall the echo of tenderer feelings upon his flute. The
+      music of his heart was hushed, the melodious tones of former days would
+      not return. The king laid it aside with an impatient movement. &ldquo;Nothing is
+      lasting in life,&rdquo; he murmured. A flourish of trumpets, a peal of drums
+      announced that the regiment was passing which would parade before the
+      king. What are they playing, which rouses the lonely king with bright
+      memories and shouts of victory? It is the march which his majesty composed
+      after the brilliant victory of Hohenfriedberg. The king raised his eyes
+      gratefully to heaven, repeating aloud: &ldquo;There is something lasting in
+      life. Love ceases and music dies away, but the good we have accomplished
+      remains. The most glorious of earthly rewards is granted to those who have
+      achieved great deeds&mdash;the mortal becomes immortal&mdash;the gods
+      ceding to him that which is more elevating than love or happiness&mdash;fame.
+      Ye trumpets of Hohenfriedberg, ye will still quiver when I am gone, and
+      relate to succeeding generations about &lsquo;Old Fritz.&rsquo; Such tales are well
+      worthy to live and suffer for! I am coming, ye trumpets of fame.&rdquo; With
+      youthful activity and beaming face the king went out to receive his
+      generals, who saluted him with silent reverence, and his soldiers, who
+      greeted their beloved commander and king with an exultant shout.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. IN WEIMAR.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There lies dear Weimar, encircled in its wreath of green. Do you not see
+      it, Wolf? I will refresh my heart with its view; so halt, postilion,
+      halt,&rdquo; cried the duke. &ldquo;It is more beautiful to me than stately, proud
+      Berlin. Though a poor, gray nest, I could press it to my heart, with all
+      its untidy little houses, and tedious old pedants. Let us walk down the
+      hill, Wolf.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most willingly,&rdquo; cried Goethe, stretching forth his arms to the little
+      town, nestled in the peaceful valley, &ldquo;be welcome, you lovely paradise,
+      with your angels and serpents; we press on toward you with all our heart
+      and soul, as to the seven-sealed book, filled with mysteries, and we would
+      draw glorious revelations from your hidden contents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And grant, ye gods, that the inspired one may at last break the seal
+      which a cruel friend has placed upon her lips, that he may not drink the
+      kiss of love glowing beneath,&rdquo; said the duke, smiling. &ldquo;Do you not see the
+      gray roof yonder, with its background of tall trees, that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The house where dwells my beloved, my dearest friend, my sister, and the
+      mistress of my heart,&rdquo; interrupted Goethe. &ldquo;She is all this, for she is my
+      all in all. The fountains of bliss and love which here and there I have
+      drawn from, refreshing my heart and occupying my mind, flow toward her,
+      united in one broad, silvery stream, with heaven and earth mirrored
+      therein, and revealing wonderful secrets in its rushing waves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Wolf!&rdquo; cried the duke, &ldquo;you are a happy, enviable creature, free and
+      unfettered, sending your love where it pleases you. My dear Wolf, I advise
+      you never to marry, for&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe hastily closed the duke&rsquo;s mouth with his hand. &ldquo;Hush! not a word
+      against the noble Duchess Louisa, my master and friend. She is an example
+      of refined, womanly dignity; and you, Charles, are to be envied the love
+      of so estimable a wife and sweet mother for your children.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I am,&rdquo; cried the duke, enthusiastically. &ldquo;I could not have found a
+      more high-minded, lovely wife, or a more excellent, virtuous mother for my
+      descendants. But you know, Wolf, that your Charles has still another
+      heart, very susceptible and tender, which seeks for an affinity to call
+      its own, and vent itself in the pleasures of youth, in glorious
+      flirtations, melancholy signs, and blissful longings. You cannot expect me
+      at twenty-two to play the grandfather, and have no eyes or heart for other
+      captivating women, though I love my young wife most affectionately, and
+      bless Fate that I am bound with silken cords to Hymen&rsquo;s cart&mdash;though
+      I am forever bound, and you, Wolf, are happily free!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because grim Fate refuses to unite me to my beloved. Oh, Charlotte, if
+      you were free, how blessed would I be, enchained by you! Not to &lsquo;Hymen&rsquo;s
+      cart,&rsquo; as the fortunate mocker says, but to the chariot of Venus, drawn by
+      doves, enthroned upon which you would bear me to heaven!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not blaspheme, Wolf,&rdquo; cried the duke; &ldquo;rather kneel and thank the gods
+      that you are not fettered and your wings clipped. They wish to preserve to
+      you love&rsquo;s delusion, because you are a favorite, and deny you the object
+      adored. Beware of the institution which the French actress, Sophie
+      Arnould, has so wittily called the &lsquo;consecration of adultery.&rsquo; You will
+      agree with me that we have many such little sacraments in our dear Weimar,
+      and I must laugh when I reflect for what purpose those amiable beauties
+      have married, as not one of them love their husbands, but they all possess
+      a friend besides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The human heart is a strange thing,&rdquo; said Goethe, as they descended the
+      hill, arm in arm, &ldquo;and above all a woman&rsquo;s heart! It is a sacred riddle,
+      which God has given Himself to solve, and that only a God could unravel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this instant a flash of lightning, followed by heavy-rolling thunder,
+      was heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear, Wolf&mdash;only hear!&rdquo; laughed Charles&mdash;&ldquo;God in heaven
+      responds, and confirms your statement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or punishes me for my bold speech,&rdquo; cried Goethe, as the hailstones
+      rattled around him hitting his face with their sharp points. &ldquo;Heaven is
+      whipping me with rods.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And our carriage has descended with a quick trot into the valley,&rdquo; said
+      the duke. &ldquo;I will call it.&rdquo; He sprang into the middle of the road, making
+      a speaking-trumpet of his hands, and shouted in a full, powerful voice,
+      &ldquo;Oho, postilion! here, postilion!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The continued rolling of the thunder, the whistling wind, and rattling
+      hail, made all attempts inaudible. The two gentlemen sought shelter under
+      the thick crowns of the oak-trees by the wayside, which formed an
+      impenetrable roof to the flood of rain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know nothing more sublime than a thunder-storm,&rdquo; said Goethe, looking
+      up as if inspired; &ldquo;when the thunder rolls in such awful majesty and
+      wrath, it seems as if I heard Prometheus in angry dispute with the gods.
+      In the dark clouds I see the Titan, enveloped in mist, overspreading the
+      heavens, and raising his giant-arm to hurl his mighty wrath.&rdquo; At this
+      instant a flash of lightning, followed by a deafening peal reverberated in
+      one prolonged echo through the hills.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you not hear him, Charles?&rdquo; cried Goethe, delighted&mdash;&ldquo;hear all
+      the voices of earth united in the grumbling thunder of his wrath? See,
+      there he stands, yonder in heaven&mdash;his form dark as midnight. I hear
+      it&mdash;he calls&mdash;Overshadow the heavens, O Jupiter, With thy
+      vaporous clouds! Cut off the oak and mountain-tops As a boy plucks the
+      thistle. Leave me earth and my cabin Which thou hast not built, And my
+      hearth-side, The glow of which thou enviest me! I know naught so miserable
+      As you gods&mdash;you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the mighty peal silenced Goethe, who looked to heaven with defiance
+      flashing from his eyes and his clinched hand upraised, as if he were
+      Prometheus himself menacing the gods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Proceed, Wolf,&rdquo; cried the duke, as the echo died away. &ldquo;How can you,
+      yourself a god, be so excited with the anger of like beings? Proceed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The uplifted arm of the poet sank at his side, and the fiery glance was
+      softened. &ldquo;No human word is capable of expressing what Prometheus just
+      spoke in thunder,&rdquo; said Goethe, musingly, &ldquo;and I humbly feel how weak and
+      insignificant we are, and how great we think ourselves, while our voice is
+      like the humming beetle in comparison to this voice from the clouds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be not desponding, Wolf, your own will ring throughout Europe; every ear
+      will listen and every heart will comprehend, and centuries later it will
+      delight with its freshness and beauty. The storm passes and dies away, but
+      the poet lives in his heavenly melodies through all time. You must finish
+      &lsquo;Prometheus&rsquo; for me, Wolf. I cannot permit you to leave it as a fragment.
+      I will have it in black and white, to refresh myself in its beauty bright.
+      A spark of your divine talent is infused into my soul, and I begin to
+      rhyme. Ah, Wolf, all that is elevated within me I owe to you, and I bless
+      Fate for according you to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I also, dear Charles,&rdquo; said Goethe, feelingly. &ldquo;For, fostered and
+      protected by your noble mind and nature, my inmost thoughts develop and
+      blossom. We give and receive daily from each other, and so mingle the
+      roots of our being that, God willing, we will become two beautiful trees,
+      like the oak which now arches over us. But see, the rain is fast ceasing,
+      and the sun looks out by the clinched hand of Prometheus. We can now
+      travel on to the loved spot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Wolf, are you in love? None but a lover could say the rain has
+      ceased, when it pours down so that we should be drenched before we could
+      arrive at Weimar. But hark! I hear a carriage in the distance; we may be
+      favored with a shelter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke stepped out from under the trees, and looked along the highway
+      with his sharp hunter&rsquo;s eye. &ldquo;A vehicle approaches, but no chance for us,
+      as it appears to be a farm-wagon, crowded with men and women.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed it does,&rdquo; said Goethe, joining him; &ldquo;a very merry company they are
+      too, singing gayly. Now, grant the rain rain has ceased&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charlotte von Stein is at Weimar,&rdquo; interrupted the duke. &ldquo;Give me your
+      arm, and we will walk on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They advanced briskly arm in arm. A stranger meeting them would have
+      supposed that they were brothers, so much alike were they in form,
+      manners, and dress, for the duke as well as Goethe wore the Werther
+      costume.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As they descended, the carriage came nearer and nearer. The duke&rsquo;s keen
+      eye had not been deceived. It was a farm-wagon, filled with a frolicsome
+      party, sitting on bags of straw for cushions. They were chatting and
+      laughing absorbed in fun, and did not observe the two foot-passengers, who
+      turned aside from them. A sudden cry of surprise hushed the conversation;
+      a form rose, half man and half woman, enveloped in a man&rsquo;s coat of green
+      baize, crowned with a neat little hat of a woman. &ldquo;Oh, it is Charles!&rdquo;
+       cried the form, and at the same instant the duke sprang to the wagon. &ldquo;Is
+      it possible, my dear mother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess Amelia!&rdquo; cried Goethe, astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; laughed the duchess, greeting them with an affectionate look. &ldquo;The
+      proverb proves itself&mdash;&lsquo;Like mother, like son.&rsquo; On the highway mother
+      and son have met. You should have done the honors in a stately equipage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I be permitted to ask where you come from?&rdquo; asked the duke. &ldquo;And the
+      dress, of what order do you wear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We walked to Ziefurt, and intended to walk back. Thusnelda is so delicate
+      and weak, that she complained of her fairy feet paining her,&rdquo; answered the
+      duchess, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, duchess, must I always be the butt?&rdquo; cried the lady behind the
+      duchess, crouching between the straw-sacks. &ldquo;Must I permit you to follow
+      in my footsteps, while I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, Goechhausen&mdash;hush, sweet Philomel,&rdquo; interrupted the duke, &ldquo;or
+      the Delphic riddle of this costume will be apparent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is easily explained,&rdquo; said the duchess. &ldquo;No other conveyance was to be
+      had, and my good Wieland gave me his green overcoat to protect me from the
+      pouring rain.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: True anecdote.&mdash;See Lewes&rsquo; &ldquo;Goethe&rsquo;s
+      Life and Writings,&rdquo; vol. 1., p. 406.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And from to-day forth it will be a precious palladium,&rdquo; cried the little
+      man with a mild, happy face on the straw by the duchess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And there is Knebel too,&rdquo; shouted the duke to the gentleman who just then
+      pulled the wet hood of his cloak over his powdered hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our treasurer Bertuch, Count Werther, and Baron von Einsiedel also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does not your highness ask after our bewitching countess?&rdquo; asked
+      Goechhausen, in her fine, sharp voice. &ldquo;The countess is quite ill&mdash;is
+      she not, Count Werther?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe so, they say so,&rdquo; answered the count, rather absent-minded. &ldquo;I
+      have not seen her for some days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo; asked the duke, as Goethe was engaged in a lively
+      conversation with the duchess. &ldquo;Is the dear countess dangerously ill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no,&rdquo; answered Goechhausen, &ldquo;not very ill, only in love with genius, a
+      malady which has attacked us all more or less since that mad fellow
+      Wolfgang Goethe has raged in Weimar, and made it a place of torment to
+      honorable people. Oh, Goethe&mdash;oh, Wolf! with what lamb-like innocence
+      we wandered in comfortable sheep&rsquo;s clothing until you came and fleeced us,
+      and infected us with your &lsquo;Sturm und Dranger&rsquo; malady, and made us fall in
+      love with your works!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goechhausen, hold your malicious tongue, and do not hide your own joy
+      beneath jest and mockery,&rdquo; cried the duchess. &ldquo;Acknowledge that you are
+      rejoiced to see your favorite, and that you will hasten to write to Madam
+      Aja, &lsquo;Our dear duke has returned, and my angel, my idol, Wolfgang, also.&rsquo; 
+      I assure you, Goethe, Thusnelda loves you, and was exceedingly melancholy
+      during your absence. If asked the cause of her sadness, she wept like&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like a crocodile,&rdquo; said the duke. &ldquo;Oh, I know those tears of Fraulein
+      Goechhausen; I could relate stories of her crocodile nature. Mother, how
+      can you have such a monster in your society? Why not make the cornes, that
+      the little devils may fly away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; cried the little, crooked lady. &ldquo;I see your highness has not
+      changed by this journey. Where have you been, dear duke? Oh, I remember;
+      you flew over the Rhine, and have flown home again quite unchanged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All laughed, the duke louder than any one. &ldquo;Goechhausen, you are a
+      glorious creature, and the Arminius is to be envied who appropriates this
+      Thusnelda. Oh, I see the charming youth before me, who has the courage to
+      make this German wife his own!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will scratch his eyes out?&rdquo; cried Goechhausen, &ldquo;and then the Countess
+      Werther can play Antigone, and lead him around as Oedipus. Why shut your
+      eyes, Einsiedel? I do not scratch quite yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was not thinking of that,&rdquo; said the baron, astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You never think that every one knows; but did you not do it so soon as
+      you understood the Countess Werther should lead blind Oedipus as
+      Antigone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before the count could answer, the court lady turned again to the duke.
+      &ldquo;What did your highness bring me? I hope you have not forgotten that you
+      promised me a handsome present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I have not forgotten it; I have brought my Thusnelda a souvenir&mdash;such
+      a gift!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it, your highness?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A surprise which, if Thusnelda is clever, she must think about all night.&mdash;But,
+      Goethe, is it not time to leave the ladies?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait, I command you both,&rdquo; said the Duchess Amelia, extending her hand to
+      her son, who pressed it to his lips most affectionately. &ldquo;I have given out
+      invitations for a soiree, for this evening. My daughter-in-law, the
+      Duchess Louisa, has accepted, duke, and Frau von Stein also, Goethe. I
+      hope to see you at Belvedere, gentlemen. The poet Gleim is in town, and
+      will read his late &lsquo;Muse Almanach.&rsquo; May I not expect both of you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They joyfully consented, gazing after the merry society as it drove away.
+      &ldquo;This is a good bite for the poisonous tongues of the honorable,&rdquo; cried
+      the duke. &ldquo;My mother in a farm-wagon, with Wieland&rsquo;s green overcoat on,
+      and the reigning duke, with his Goethe, entering his capital on foot like
+      a journeyman mechanic, after a long journey!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish we were there, my dearest friend,&rdquo; sighed Goethe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, love makes you impatient! Come on, then. But listen, we must play
+      Gochhausen a trick; I have promised her a surprise. Will you help me,
+      Wolf?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With pleasure, duke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have thought of something very droll, and your servant Philip must help
+      us; he is a clever fellow, and can keep his own counsel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is silent as the grave, duke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is necessary for such a gentleman as the women all run after. Let us
+      skip down the mountain, and then forward where our hearts incline us. This
+      afternoon I will go for you and bring you to Belvedere, and then we can
+      talk over the surprise.&rdquo; They ran down the declivity into the suburb, to
+      the terror of the good people, who looked after them, saying that the
+      young duke had returned with his mad protege. The &ldquo;mad favorite&rdquo; seemed
+      more crazy than ever to-day, for after a brief farewell to the duke, he
+      bounded through the streets across the English park, to the loved house,
+      the roof of which he had so longingly greeted from the hillside. The door
+      stood open, as is customary in small towns, and the servant in the
+      vestibule came to meet him, and respectfully announced that her master had
+      gone to his estate at Hochberg, but that Frau von Stein was most probably
+      in the pavilion, in the garden, as she had gone thither with her guitar.
+      &ldquo;Is she alone?&rdquo; asked Goethe. The servant answered in the affirmative, and
+      through the court hastened the lover&mdash;not through the principal
+      entrance, as he would surprise her, and read in her sweet face whether she
+      thought of him. Softly he opened the little garden gate, and approached
+      the pavilion by a side-alley. Do his feet touch the ground, or float over
+      it? He knew not; he heard music, accompanied by a sweet, melodious voice.
+      It was Charlotte&rsquo;s. Goethe&rsquo;s face beamed with delight and happiness. He
+      gazed at her unseen, not alone with his eyes, but heart and soul went
+      forth to her. She sat sideways to the door; upon a table lay her notes,
+      and the guitar rested upon her arm. She sang, in a rich, sweet voice,
+      Reinhardt&rsquo;s beautiful melody:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;d rather fight my way through sorrows Than bear so many joys in life;
+      All this affinity of heart to heart, How strangely it causes us to
+      suffer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She ceased, as if overpowered with her own thoughts, the guitar sank upon
+      her lap, and her fingers glided over the chords, so that the tones died
+      away imperceptibly. Her deep-blue eyes gazed pensively in the distance,
+      and the sweet lips repeated softly, &ldquo;How strangely it causes us to
+      suffer!&rdquo; Near the garden entrance, through which the odor of sweet flowers
+      and the song of birds was wafted with every gentle zephyr, stood Goethe,
+      looking at the woman whom he had so passionately loved for three years, so
+      absorbingly, that to her were consecrated all his thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He could contain himself no longer; he rushed forward and threw himself at
+      her feet. &ldquo;Oh, Charlotte, I love you, only you, and once more I am by your
+      side!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A shriek! was it a cry of surprise or delight? Who let the guitar fall to
+      the floor, he or she? Who embraced the other in affectionate haste, he or
+      she? Who pressed the lips so lovingly to the other lips, he or she? And
+      who said, &ldquo;I love you? What bliss to again repose in your affection, I
+      would fain die now. In this moment a whole life has been consecrated, for
+      love has revealed to us our other self.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat upon the tabouret, and Goethe still knelt before her, clasping her
+      feet and pressing them to his bosom. His eyes beamed with inexpressible
+      delight as he regarded the face, usually so calm and indifferent&mdash;today
+      glowing as sunrise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, tell me, Charlotte, have you thought of me? But rather speak to me
+      with your eyes, and may they be more than the cruel lips which refuse to
+      confess. Oh, shade not those loved orbs, which are my stars shining upon
+      me, whithersoever I wander. They are my light, my spring-time, and my
+      love. They will never cease to beam upon me, as light and love never grow
+      old. Let me read eternal youth in those eyes, and the secrets which rest
+      as pearls in the depths of your heart. Only tell me, is the pearl of love
+      to be found there, and is it mine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be a misfortune if it were there,&rdquo; she whispered, with a sweet
+      smile. &ldquo;Pearls are the result of a malady, and my heart would be ill if
+      the pearl of love were found there. No, no, rise, Wolf, dear Wolf, we have
+      given away at the first moment of meeting; let us now be reasonable, and
+      speak in a dignified manner with each other, as it becomes a married woman
+      and her friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Friend?&rdquo; repeated Goethe, impetuously; &ldquo;forever must I listen to this
+      hated, hypocritical word, which, like a priest&rsquo;s robe, shall cover the
+      sacred glow in my heart? I have told you, Charlotte, that I am not your
+      friend, and I never shall be. There is not the least spark of this still,
+      calm fire of the earthly moderation in me, by which one could cook his
+      potatoes, or his daily vegetables, but by which one could never prepare
+      food for the gods, or that which could refresh a poet&rsquo;s heart or quicken
+      his soul. No, in me burns the fire which Prometheus stole from the gods,
+      originating in heaven and glowing upon earth. This heavenly and earthly
+      love unites in one flame. Again, I say, Charlotte, banish this
+      hypocritical word &lsquo;friendship!&rsquo; It is only love which I feel for you, let
+      this sentiment enter at every avenue of your heart, and do not feign
+      ignorance of it, sweet hypocrite. Surprise has torn away the mask! The
+      passionate kiss, which still burns upon my lips, was not given by a friend
+      or sister; but overcome by joy, the truth has been acknowledged!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you wish that the kiss of meeting should be that of parting also?&rdquo;
+       said Charlotte, sadly, as she raised her blue eyes with a languishing look
+      to the handsome, ardent face of the man who stood before her. &ldquo;Do you wish
+      to separate forever? I must recall to you our last conversation: &lsquo;Only
+      when you are resolved to moderate this impetuous manner, and curb this
+      overflow of feeling, which reason and custom imposes upon us, shall I be
+      able to receive you and enjoy your society.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, with these unmeaning phrases you banished me. Cruel and hard-hearted
+      were you to the last. Oh, Charlotte! you know what I suffered at our last
+      walk, with your reasoning remonstrances and cold-hearted reproaches; they
+      pierced my heart like poisoned arrows. If the duke and duchess had not
+      been walking before us, I should have wept myself weary. My whole being
+      cried within me: &lsquo;Oh! cruel and inexorable woman, to beg of me, who so
+      unutterably loves her, to call her friend and sister!&rsquo; I repeated the
+      words daily during my absence, and sought to clothe your beloved image
+      with meaning. They disfigured you, and the angel whom I adore was no
+      longer recognizable. I cannot call you friend or sister.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I can be nothing to you, dear Wolfgang,&rdquo; sighed Charlotte. &ldquo;In this
+      hour of meeting we will part, and to avoid a chance encounter even, I will
+      go to my husband at Kochberg, and remain there the whole summer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe seized her, holding her fast in his strong arms, staring her in the
+      face with a fierce, angry look. &ldquo;Are you in earnest? Would you really do
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goethe, I beg you to loosen your hold; you hurt my arms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you not also hurt me? With your cold indifference do you not pierce my
+      heart with red-hot daggers, and then smile and rejoice at my torture,
+      which is a proof to you of my unbounded love? While you only play with me,
+      and attach me to your triumphal car, to display to the world that you have
+      succeeded in taming the lion, and have changed him into a good-natured
+      domestic animal. Go! you do not deserve that I should love you,
+      cold-hearted, cruel woman!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He threw her arms from him, with tears in his eyes. Charlotte von Stein
+      regarded him with anger and indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Farewell, secretary of legation. It seems to please you to insult and
+      offend a poor woman, who has no other protection than her honor and
+      virtue. Farewell! I will not expose myself to such offences; therefore I
+      will retire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned slowly toward the door, but Goethe bounded forward like a
+      tiger, interrupted her path, falling upon his knees, imploring pity and
+      begging for pardon. &ldquo;Oh, Charlotte, I will be gentle as a child, I will be
+      reserved, I know that I am a sinner! It is warring against one&rsquo;s own heart
+      to seek comfort in offending what is dearest to it in a moment of
+      ill-humor. But I have again become a child, with all my thoughts, scarcely
+      recognizable for the moment, quite lost to myself, as I consent to the
+      conditions of others with this fire raging within me. Oh, beloved
+      Charlotte, forgive me! I submit to all that you wish.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      Goethe&rsquo;s words.&mdash;See &ldquo;Letters to Charlotte von Stein,&rdquo; roll., p. 358.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you be satisfied to love me as your friend and sister?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will be,&rdquo; he sighed. &ldquo;Only in the future you must endeavor to persuade
+      yourself into such a sisterly way that you will be indulgent to my
+      rudeness, otherwise I shall have to avoid you when I need you most. Oh,
+      Charlotte, it seems terrible to me that I should mar through anguish the
+      best hours of my life, the blissful moments of meeting with you, for whom
+      I would pluck every hair from my head if it would make you happy. And yet
+      to be so blind, so hardened! Have pity upon me. Again I promise you that I
+      will be reasonable. Do not banish me from your presence. Extend to me your
+      hand, and promise me that you will be my friend and sister!&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      Goethe&rsquo;s words.&mdash;See &ldquo;Letters to Charlotte von Stein,&rdquo; roll., p. 358.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then here is my hand,&rdquo; said she, with a charming smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will be your friend and sister, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What now, my Charlotte? do finish&mdash;what is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laid her hand gently upon his shoulder, and her words fell on his ear
+      like soft music. &ldquo;When my dear friend and much-beloved brother has
+      conducted himself very prudently for two or three happy weeks, I will send
+      him a ringlet of my hair, which he has so long begged for, and a kiss with
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe spoke not, but pressed her blushing face to his bosom, and laid his
+      hand gently upon her head. A smile of delight&mdash;of perfect happiness&mdash;played
+      around his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. THE READING.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      This happy smile still beamed upon Goethe&rsquo;s face as he walked with the
+      duke late in the evening toward Belvedere to soiree of the Duchess Amelia,
+      who was inspired with a love for the fine arts, and particularly
+      literature. The two gentlemen had busily occupied themselves in preparing
+      them for the lady of honor, Fraulein von Gochhausen, and, although aided
+      by Goethe&rsquo;s servant, Philip, and workmen, it was late when they arrived.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As they entered, the ladies and gentlemen were seated in a large circle
+      around the centre-table. At one end sat the Duchesses Amelia and Louisa,
+      the mother and wife of Charles Augustus and near the former her friend and
+      favorite the poet Wieland, once the tutor of her son the duke. Near the
+      poet sat an elderly gentleman of cheerful, good-natured mien, who, with
+      the exception of Wieland, was the only one who did not present himself,
+      like the duke and Goethe, in Werther costume. He wore a white,
+      silver-embroidered coat, with a dark-blue satin vest, and breeches of the
+      same, shoes with buckles, and bosom and wrist ruffles of lace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This gentleman, with the bright, sparkling eyes, and pleasant face, was
+      the poet Gleim, who looked very comfortable and stately in the circle of
+      powdered perukes. His admiration for Frederick the Great had inspired him
+      to write some beautiful military songs, and his love of poetry and
+      literature made him an enthusiastic admirer of all those devoted
+      themselves to literary pursuits. Besides, he was rich and liberal, and it
+      was very natural that the poets, and authors exerted themselves with
+      marked assiduity to please Father Gleim. They were gratified to have him
+      print their works for a small remuneration in an annual which he entitled
+      the &ldquo;Almanach of the Muses.&rdquo; He was just reading aloud at the duchess&rsquo;s
+      soiree from the late edition of the almanach, and the society listened
+      with earnest and kind attention, occasionally interrupted with an
+      enthusiastic &ldquo;Bravo!&rdquo; or &ldquo;Excellent!&rdquo; from the duchess, followed by a
+      murmur of assent around the table, which caused the poet&rsquo;s face to
+      brighten with joy and satisfaction, and him to read on with increased
+      energy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The entrance of the duke and Goethe was unobserved, as it was understood
+      that the former wished no notice to be taken of his going or coming, and
+      the duchess had also waved her hand, not to interrupt Father Gleim. The
+      poet has just finished the new poem of melodious rhythm of imprisoned
+      Shubart. As he paused to wipe the perspiration from his brow and sip a
+      little raspberry water, a tall, slender young man, in the Werther costume,
+      approached, bowing, and regarding the poet so kindly, that the glance of
+      his fine black eyes fell like a sunbeam on the heart of the old man. &ldquo;You
+      appear somewhat fatigued, my good sir,&rdquo; said the unknown, in a sweet,
+      sonorous voice. &ldquo;Will you not permit me to relieve you, and read in your
+      stead from this glorious book of yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do so, my dear Gleim,&rdquo; said the Duchess Amelia, smiling, &ldquo;you seem really
+      exhausted; let the young man continue the agreeable and welcome
+      entertainment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Father Gleim was very well pleased; he handed the book to the young
+      stranger with a graceful bow, as the latter seated himself opposite to
+      him, and next to Fraulein Gochhausen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He commenced in a clear, distinct voice. The verses flowed from his lips
+      gracefully, and in a cultivated style. The company listened with devoted
+      attention, and Father Gleim, the protector of all the young poets, sat
+      delighted, nodding consent, with a pleasant smile. It must all be charming&mdash;it
+      had come into existence under his fostering care. What beautiful verses to
+      listen to! &ldquo;Die Zephyre lauschen, Die Balche rauschen, Die Sonus
+      Verbreitet ihr Licht mit Wonne!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And how charmingly the young man read them! Suddenly Father Gleim
+      startled, and the smile died upon his lips. What was it? What was the
+      young man reading? Verse which were not in the collection, and which were
+      more remarkable than he had ever heard from his young poets. &ldquo;Those are
+      not in the Annual,&rdquo; cried Gleim, quite forgetting decorum,&mdash;&ldquo;that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One glance from the fine black eyes of the young man so confounded Father
+      Gleim, that he ceased in the midst of a sentence, and, staring in
+      breathless astonishment, listened. Glorious thoughts were expressed
+      therein, and the poets of the Muse Almanach might have thanked God if the
+      like had occurred to them. Love was not the burden of the song; neither
+      hearts, griefs, nor bliss, but satire, lashing right and left with
+      graceful dexterity, and dealing a harmless thrust to every one. All were
+      forced to laugh; the happy faces animated and inspired every thing. The
+      brilliant satirical verses rushed like rockets from the lips of the reader&mdash;a
+      real illumination of wit and humor, of good-natured jokes and biting
+      sarcasm, and it delighted the old man that every one had received hits and
+      thrusts but himself; he had been spared until now! Every one regarded him,
+      smiling and amused, as the reader exalted the merits of the Maecenas, and
+      praised him highly for the interest he took in the poet&rsquo;s heart, soul, and
+      purse, and shouted victory when one excelled. But suddenly the good father
+      also changed, and, instead of the patron on the right throne, there was a
+      turkey-cock on the round nest, which zealously sought to hatch out the
+      many eggs that he had to take care of for others besides his own; he sat
+      brooding untiringly, and shed many a tear of joy over the fine number of
+      eggs, yet it happened that a poetical viper had put but under him one of
+      chalk, which he cared for with the others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr Gleim could no longer contain himself, and, striking the table, he
+      cried, &ldquo;That is either Goethe or the devil!&rdquo; The entire company burst into
+      uncontrollable laughter, and the old man shouted the second time, though
+      inwardly angry, &ldquo;It is either Goethe or the devil!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Both, dear Father Gleim,&rdquo; said Wieland, who was drying his tears from
+      laughter, &ldquo;it is Goethe, and he has the devil in him to-day. He is like a
+      wild colt, which kicks out behind and before, and it would be well not to
+      approach him too near.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: Wieland&rsquo;s own words.&mdash;See
+      Lewes&rsquo; &ldquo;Life of Goethe,&rdquo; vol. i., p. 432.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe alone retained his composure, and continued reading in a louder
+      voice, which hushed all conversation. He lashed with bitter sarcasm &ldquo;him
+      who assumed to be a god&mdash;a wise man&mdash;and who counted for nothing
+      better than a pretentious, saucy fellow, who made himself the scorn of the
+      poets by his sweet, Werther-like sighs, and other worthless lamentations,
+      heeding neither God nor the devil!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And so he stormed and thundered, ridiculed and slandered his own flesh and
+      blood, until Goechhausen, red with anger, rose and snatched the book from
+      his hand, and closed his lips with her hand, crying: &ldquo;If you do not cease,
+      Goethe, I will write to your beloved mother, Frau Aja, that a satirist, a
+      calumniator has had the impudence to defame and slur her beloved son in a
+      most sinful and shameful manner! I will write to her, indeed, if you do
+      not stop!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe rose, and bowing offered his hand to Father Gleim in such a
+      friendly, affectionate manner, that the old man, quite delighted, thanked
+      him heartily for the pleasure and surprise which he had afforded him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke, however, seated himself by the little lady of honor. &ldquo;Thusnelda,
+      you are an incomparable creature, and quite calculated to be the
+      ancestress of all the Germans. I declare myself your cavalier for the
+      evening, and will devote myself to you as your most humble servant, and
+      will not quit your side for a moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very beautiful it will be, my dear duke, a most charming idyl; in true
+      Watteau style, I will be the sweet shepherdess, and lead your highness by
+      a little ribbon. But where is my present&mdash;my surprise?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must not be impatient, Thusnelda, but wait what time will produce.
+      You will have it; if not to-day, to-morrow. Every day brings its own care
+      and sorrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, duke, instead of giving me my surprise, you beat me with doggerels.
+      That comes from having a Goethe for companion and friend. Crazy tricks,
+      like chicken-pox, are contagious, and the latter you have caught, duke. It
+      is a new kind of genius distemper. Very fortunately, our dear Countess
+      Werther has another malady, or she might be infected. Perhaps she has it
+      already, Count Werther&mdash;how is it?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know, Fraulein,&rdquo; replied the count, startled from reverie. &ldquo;I
+      really do not know! My wife is quite ill, for that reason has gone to our
+      estate to recover her peace and quiet. It is unfortunately quite
+      impossible for me to visit her there; but my dear, faithful friend, Baron
+      von Einsiedel, will drive over to-morrow at my request, my commission&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To set the fox to keep the geese,&rdquo; interrupted Thusnelda in her lively
+      manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not that, Fraulein,&rdquo; said Count Werther, quite confused, as the duke
+      burst into a merry laugh, calling Thusnelda a witty Kobold, and as her
+      faithful Celadon offered her his arm to conduct her to his mother, the
+      Duchess Amelia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The company were all in a very happy frame of mind. Goethe&rsquo;s charming
+      impromptu had kindled wit and humor upon every lip. He himself was the
+      happiest of all, for Charlotte was by his side, gazing upon him with her
+      large, thoughtful eyes, and permitting him to be her cavalier for the
+      evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duke also devoted himself to Fraulein von Goechhausen, who was this
+      evening unsurpassably witty and caustic, delighting him, and making the
+      Duchess Amelia laugh, and the Duchess Louisa sometimes to slightly shrug
+      her shoulders and shake her head with disapproval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the midst of a most interesting conversation with Frau von Stein,
+      Goethe was informed that some one awaited him in the anteroom. He went out
+      quickly, and upon returning he whispered to the duke, who nodded, and
+      answered him in a low tone, and then Goethe betook himself to the Duchess
+      Amelia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; the latter asked. &ldquo;Have important dispatches arrived?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I come to your highness as courier from your son. The duke begs that
+      you will lock the door of your anteroom when you retire, and that you will
+      upon no condition open it, no matter how much Thusnelda may beg and
+      implore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you not injure my poor Goechhausen, you wanton fellow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! it is not very dangerous, duchess. It is only a harmless surprise,
+      which the duke promised Fraulein von Goechhausen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, then, it can take place; I promise to be quite deaf to all
+      Thusnelda&rsquo;s knocking and thumping, and I shall be glad to be informed
+      to-morrow what the trick is. I prefer not to inquire to-day, as I might
+      feel obliged to veto it if it were too severe. But look, the Duchess
+      Louisa will break up; does she know any thing about the affair?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, your highness, you know very well that the young duchess&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is much more sensible than the old one, and shakes her head
+      disapprovingly when she hears of your ingenuous tricks. Perhaps it would
+      be well if I were equally sensible, but there is no help for it. I like
+      bright, happy people, and I think when youth vents itself, old age is more
+      sedate and reasonable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are quite right, duchess. Mankind resembles new wine. If the must
+      does not ferment and foam well, no good wine will come of it. But look at
+      our Charles, with the saucy jest upon his lip, and the fire of inspiration
+      in those bright brown eyes. One day a fine, strong wine will clear itself
+      from this glorious fermenting must.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope so, Goethe, and if the gods grant it, the great merit will belong
+      to you, who have proved yourself a good vintager, and we will rejoice
+      together in your glorious success.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII. WITCHCRAFT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      An hour later the palace Belvedere was silent and deserted; the guests had
+      taken their departure. The duchess had her suite and commanded them to
+      retire. Fraulein von Gochhausen alone remained with her mistress, chatting
+      by the bedside, and recapitulating in her amusing style all important and
+      unimportant events of the soiree, The duchess smiled at the mischievous
+      remarks with which she ornamented her relation, and at her keen,
+      individualizing of persons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fraulein Gochhausen, you are the most wicked and the merriest
+      mocking-bird God ever created,&rdquo; cried the duchess, &ldquo;Have done with your
+      scandals, go up to your room, piously say your evening prayers, and
+      stretch yourself upon your maiden bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Soon, duchess; only one thing more have I to call your attention to.
+      There is a gossip afloat about the Werthers. I perceive it in the air, as
+      the dove scents the vulture.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You alarm me, Gochhausen; what good is it? You do not mean that the
+      lovely Countess Werther&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not only very weary of her husband, but looks about for a substitute&mdash;a
+      friend, as the ingenious ladies now call him. That is what I mean, and I
+      know the so-called friend which the sweet sentimental countess has
+      chosen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the Baron von Einsiedel, is it not?&rdquo; asked the duchess. &ldquo;That is to
+      say, his younger brother, the gay lieutenant, not our good friend par
+      excellence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I mean the brother, and I have warned and taunted the count this
+      week past, but it is impossible to awake him from his stupidity and
+      thoughtlessness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Again you are giving loose reins to your naughty tongue, Thusnelda. Count
+      Werther is a thoroughly scholarly person, whom I often envy his knowledge
+      of the languages. He has studied Sanscrit and the cuneated letters, among
+      other ancient tongues.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It may be that he understands the dead languages, but the living ones not
+      in the least. The language of the eyes and inspiration he is blind to,
+      with seeing eyes! My dear duchess, if you are not watchful, and prevent
+      the affair with timely interference, a scandal will grow out of it, and
+      you know well that it would be a welcome opportunity for our Weimar
+      Philistines (as the Jena students call commonplace gossips) to cry
+      &lsquo;Murder,&rsquo; and howl about the immoral example of geniuses, which Wolfgang
+      Goethe has introduced at court.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; said the duchess, musingly; &ldquo;your apt tongue and keen eye
+      are ever carefully watching, like a good shepherd-dog, that none of the
+      sheep go astray and are lost. And you do not mind attacking this or that
+      one in the leg with your sharp teeth!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let those scream who are unjustly bitten, your highness! Believe me, the
+      countess will not cry out; she will much more likely take care not to
+      receive a well-merited rebuke. I beg your grace to prevent the gossip! Not
+      on account of this silly, sentimental young woman, or her pedantic
+      husband, but that our young duke and Goethe may not be exposed to scandal,
+      as well as your highness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right&mdash;we must take care to prevent it. Has not the countess
+      been absent at her estate four days?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your highness, it is just this that troubles me. She went away as
+      sound as a fish, and has suddenly fallen very ill. No physician has been
+      called, but, to-morrow, the count will commission his dear friend the
+      baron to drive to his country-seat, and bring him tidings of his
+      better-half.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must circumvent this. In the morning we will arrange a pleasure-drive,
+      of the whole court, to the country-seat of Count Werther. It shall be a
+      surprise. Let Fourier give out the invitations early to-morrow, for a
+      country party, destination unknown. The distribution of the couples in the
+      carriages shall be decided by lot. Take care that Lieutenant Einsiedel is
+      your cavalier, so that when we arrive at the little Werther, he will
+      already be appropriated, and then we will induce her to return with us and
+      spend some time at Belvedere. Now, good-night, Thusnelda; I am very tired
+      and need repose. Sleep already weighs upon my eyelids, and will close them
+      as soon as you are gone. Good-night, my child&mdash;sleep well!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little deformed court lady kissed the extended hand, the candlestick,
+      with only a stump of a taper in it, and withdrew from the princely
+      sleeping-room, courtesying, and wishing her mistress good-night, with
+      pleasant dreams.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The anteroom was dark and deserted. The lights were all extinguished, and
+      Fraulein Goechhausen was, in truth, the only person who had not long since
+      retired in the ducal palace. She was accustomed to be the last, accustomed
+      to traverse the long, lonely corridors, and mount two flights of stairs to
+      her bedroom upon the third story. The gay duchess, being very fond of
+      society, had had the second story arranged guest-chambers and
+      drawing-rooms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Why should the little court lady be afraid to-night? She had not thought
+      of it, but stepped forward briskly to mount the stairs. It was surely very
+      disagreeable for the wind to extinguish her lamp at that instant, just at
+      the turning of stairs, and she could not account for it, as none of the
+      windows were open, and there was no trace of a draft. However, it was an
+      undeniable fact, the light was out and she was in total darkness&mdash;not
+      even a star was to be seen in the clouded sky. It was, indeed, true that
+      Thusnelda was so accustomed to the way that it mattered little whether she
+      had a light or not. Now she had reached the corridor and she could not
+      fail to find the door, as there was but one, that of her own room. She
+      stretched out her hand to open it, but, strange to say, she missed the
+      knob! Then she was sure that it was farther on; she felt along the wall,
+      but still it eluded her grasp. It was unheard of&mdash;no handle and not a
+      door even to be found! The wall was bare and smooth, and papered the
+      entire length. A slight shudder crept over the courageous little woman&rsquo;s
+      heart, and she could not explain to herself what it all meant. She called
+      her maid, but no answer&mdash;not a sound interrupted the stillness! &ldquo;I
+      will go down to the duchess,&rdquo; murmured Thusnelda; &ldquo;perhaps she is awake,
+      and then I can re-light my taper!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door was fastened; the duchess had locked the ante-room to-night for
+      the first time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thusnelda tapped lightly, and begged an entrance humbly and imploringly.
+      No answer, every thing was quiet. She recalled that the duchess had told
+      her that she was very weary, and would sleep as soon as she was alone,
+      which she undoubtedly had done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thusnelda did not presume to awake her by knocking louder. She would be
+      patient, and mount again to her room. Surely she must have made a mistake,
+      and turned to the left of the corridor, where there was no door, instead
+      of the right, as she ought to have done. It must be that it was her fault.
+      She groped along the dark flights of stairs to the upper gallery,
+      carefully seeking the right this time, but in vain. Again she felt only
+      the smooth wall. Terrified, she knew not whether she was awake or
+      dreaming, or whether she might not be in an enchanted castle, or walking
+      in her sleep in a strange house. Just here she ought to find her room and
+      the maid awaiting her, but it was lonely, deserted, and strange&mdash;no
+      door, no maid. Thusnelda, with trembling hands smoothed her face, pulled
+      first her nose, and then her hair, to identify herself. &ldquo;Is it I?&rdquo; she
+      said. &ldquo;Am I, indeed, myself? Am I awake? I know that I am lady of honor to
+      the Duchess Amelia, and that upon the upper story is my room. Do not be
+      foolish, and imagine that witchcraft comes to pass; the door is there, and
+      it can be found.&rdquo; Thusnelda renewed her search with out-spread arms and
+      wide-spread fingers, feeling first this side of the wall and then the
+      other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By daylight the deformed little lady of honor must have been a very droll
+      figure, in full toilet, dancing along the wall as if suspended by her
+      outstretched hands. Oh, it was quite vain to seek any longer. It must be
+      enchantment, and the door had disappeared. An indefinable dream crept over
+      Thusnelda, and she was cast down. For the first time a jest failed her
+      trembling lips, and she wept with anguish. Yes, she, the keen, mordant,
+      jesting little woman, prayed and implored her Maker to unloose her from
+      the enchantment, and permit her to find the long-sought-for entrance. But
+      praying was in vain, the door was not to be found, it was witch craft, and
+      she must submit to it. The rustling and moving her arms frightened her
+      now, and when she walked the darkness prevented her seeing if any one
+      followed her; so she crouched upon the floor, yielding to the unavoidable
+      necessity passing the night there&mdash;the night of enchantment and
+      witchery.<i>[Footnote: See Lewes&rsquo; &ldquo;Life and Writings of Goethe,&rdquo; vol. 1.,
+      p. 408.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not alone for Fraulein Goechhausen was this beautiful May-night of sad
+      experience with witches. There were other places at Weimar. In the
+      neighborhood of the ducal park, in the midst of green-meadows, stood a
+      simple little cottage. Near it flowed the Ilm, spanned by three bridges,
+      all closed by gates, so that no one could reach the cottage without the
+      occupant&rsquo;s consent. It was as secure as a fortress or an island of the
+      sea, and distinctly visible even in the night, its white walls rising
+      against the dark perspective of the park. This is the poet&rsquo;s Eldorado, his
+      paradise, presented to Wolfgang Goethe by his friend the Duke Charles
+      Augustus. It was late as the possessor wound his way toward his Tusculum,
+      as he familiarly called it, and, more attracted by the aspect of the
+      heavens than by sleep, sought the balcony, to gaze at the dark mass of
+      clouds chasing each other like armies in retreat and pursuit; one moment
+      veiling the moon, at another revealing her full disk, and soon again
+      covering the earth with dark shadows, until the lightning flashed down in
+      snaky windings, making the darkness momentarily visible with her lurid
+      glare. It was a glorious spectacle for the intuitive, sympathetic soul of
+      the poet, and he yielded to its influence with delight. He heard the voice
+      of God in the rolling of the thunder, and sought to comprehend the
+      unutterable, and understand it in this poetical sense. Voices spake to him
+      in the rushing of the storm, the sighing of the trees, and the rustling of
+      the foliage. The storm passed quickly, a profound quiet and solemnity
+      spread out over the nightly world, and it lay as if in repose, smiling in
+      blissful dreams. The air was filled with perfumes, wafted to the balcony
+      upon which dreamed the poet with unclosed eyelids and waking thoughts. The
+      clouds were all dispersed; full and clear was suspended the moon in the
+      deep, blue vault, where twinkled thousands of stars, whispering of unknown
+      worlds, and the mysteries of Nature, and the greatness of Him who created
+      them all.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;Oh, beloved, golden moon, how calmly you look down upon me, sublime and
+lovely at the same time! When I gaze at you, moving so quietly, floating
+in infinity, and contemplating reflect thyself in finiteness, I think of
+you, oh Charlotte, who stands above me like the moon so bright and mild,
+and I envelop myself in your rays, and my spirit becomes heavenly in
+your light.
+
+     Mir ist es, denk ich nur an Dich,
+     Als in den Mond zu seh&rsquo;n,
+     Ein suesser Friede weht um mich,
+     Weiss nicht, wie mir gescheh&rsquo;n!
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, like sweet peace, and quiet, sacred moonlight, my thoughts shall be
+      of you, Charlotte; not like the glowing rays of the sun, or the cold light
+      of the stars. Bright and beaming like the moon you are to me, spreading
+      around me your soft light. Oh, beautiful golden moon, mirrored in the
+      water, you lie as in a silvery bath, and would entice me to seek you in
+      the murmuring depths. Hark! how the ruffled waves of the Ilm with repeated
+      gentle caresses kiss the shore, rush from thence in golden links down the
+      river! Sweet of the Ilm, I come, I come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Goethe hastened from the balcony, threw aside his apparel, plunged into
+      the silvery flood, shouting with joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What heavenly pleasure to float there, rocked by the murmuring waves,
+      gazing at the silvery stars and the golden moon, a lovely May night,
+      listening to the voices of Nature! Add to that the perfume-laden breeze
+      rising from the rain-refreshed meadows. How glorious to plunge into the
+      cool stream, splashing and dashing the water, and then to shoot like a
+      fish through the drops falling like golden rain! Suddenly, while swimming,
+      Goethe raised his head to listen. He thought he heard footsteps on the
+      poet&rsquo;s forbidden bridge. The moon distinctly revealed a peasant from
+      Oberweimar, who would be early to the weekly market, and so serve himself
+      to the shortest route while no one could see him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such presumption deserves punishment, my good peasant, and if there is no
+      one else to do it the ghosts must.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Listen, what a savage yell from under the bridge, and then another more
+      unearthly!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The peasant, frightened, stopped suddenly, and looked down into the river.
+      &ldquo;Oh, what can it be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A glistening white arm is raised menacingly toward the bridge. A white
+      figure, with a black head and long black hair, is seen plunging and
+      splashing, while fearful yells are heard from the deep. Then it
+      disappeared, to return, and menace, and yell, and plunge again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The peasant shrieked with terror, and was answered with a cruel laugh. The
+      white figure sank and rose from the river screeching and yelling, and the
+      peasant shrieked also with terror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A ghost! a ghost! oh, have mercy upon us! Amen! amen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fright lent him wings, and he fled, followed by the savage yells of the
+      white figure, and never stopped until he reached Oberweimar, where he
+      related to the astonished and terrified neighbors that there was a
+      river-ghost just by the bridge which led to the cottage of the mad
+      secretary of legation, Goethe, and which howled in the moonlight.<i>[Footnote:
+      This tradition of the ghost of the Ilm has been preserved in Weimar, since
+      Goethe&rsquo;s nocturnal bath, until our time.&mdash;See Lewes, vol. i., p. 451.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the peasant also disappeared the ghost of the Ilm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Like a happy child of Nature, refreshed, Goethe went to his room and then
+      again sought the balcony, to throw himself upon the carpet and gaze at the
+      blue starry vault, and enjoy the glories of heaven with thoughtful
+      devotion, and think of Charlotte&mdash;only of her, not once of the poor
+      Thusnelda von Goechhausen, who passed the night upon the stairs of the
+      Palace Belvedere, and who, at last weary with fright and exhaustion, fell
+      asleep, and was awakened by the Duchess Amelia in the morning, laughingly
+      demanding why she preferred the landing of the stairs for a place of
+      repose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I am bewitched, duchess, and my sleeping-room has disappeared
+      from earth&mdash;because some cursed demon or wizard has enchanted me,
+      this wicked&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beware what you say!&rdquo; interrupted the duchess; &ldquo;it is most probably the
+      duke that you are inveighing against, and calling a demon and wizard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this Thusnelda sprang up as if struck by an electric shock&mdash;&ldquo;The
+      surprise, this is what the duke promised me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very likely,&rdquo; laughed the duchess. &ldquo;The courier just arrived with a
+      letter from my son to you, and I came to bring it myself, and found you,
+      to my surprise, sleeping here. Read it, and tell me what he says!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, listen, your highness!&rdquo; cried Thusnelda, after having hastily perused
+      the contents of the ducal missive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;I hope I have succeeded to surprise you! Demons and wizards have closed
+      your doors, And weeping you slept on the stairway alone. All witchcraft
+      has now disappeared. Go seek The surprise that from Berlin I brought you,
+      Which I now offer for an atonement.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An insolent fellow, indeed, is my son,&rdquo; said the duchess, &ldquo;but you see,
+      Thusnelda, he says, pater peccavi, and I am convinced that you will find
+      something very pretty and acceptable in your room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not take it&mdash;indeed I will not,&rdquo; pouted the lady of honor.
+      &ldquo;He so fearfully tormented me last night. I assure your highness I was
+      half dead with terror and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet you will forgive him, Thusnelda, for the duke is your declared
+      favorite; you dare not reproach him were he never so insolent, for you are
+      just as much so, and not a hair&rsquo;s-breadth better. Come, go up and see what
+      it is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She went, and found four masons, who had been at work since daybreak to
+      remove the wall and replace the door. Thusnelda was obliged to laugh in
+      spite of the unhappy night she had passed, as she climbed over rubbish and
+      ruins into her room, and met her maid dissolved in tears, who related to
+      her that &ldquo;the duke had had her walled in, for fear she would tell the
+      trick to her mistress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so you were really hermetically sealed?&rdquo; said the duchess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your highness,&rdquo; whimpered the maid, &ldquo;I thought I never should see
+      daylight again. I wept and prayed all night. The only thing that consoled
+      me was the duke&rsquo;s command, which Philip brought to me, to give this little
+      box to Fraulein so soon as the wall should be taken away in the morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it to me, Lieschen,&rdquo; cried Thusnelda, impatiently, her face beaming
+      with satisfaction, however, when she opened the box. &ldquo;Now, duchess, that
+      is what I call a surprise, and the duke shall be, as he ever has been, my
+      favorite. If he does sometimes play rude tricks, he makes it all right
+      again, in a very generous and princely manner. See what a beautiful watch
+      his highness has brought me, ornamented with diamonds!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is very pretty; give it to me that I may return it to the duke,
+      and not mortify him too much, as you will not wear it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will accept it, duchess,&rdquo; cried Thusnelda, laughing&mdash;&ldquo;and all is
+      forgiven and forgotten.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV. THE PURSE-PROUD MAN.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trude, is there no news from him yet? Have you never seen him since? Did
+      he not tell you about it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my dearest Marie,&rdquo; sighed old Trude. &ldquo;There is no word, no message
+      from him. I have been twenty times to the baker&rsquo;s in eight days, and
+      waited at the corner of the street, where we agreed to meet, but no Moritz
+      was there, and I have not been able to hear any thing about him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something must have happened to him,&rdquo; sighed Marie. &ldquo;He is very ill,
+      perhaps dying, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, my child, he is not ill, I will tell you all about it, if you
+      will not worry. I have been to Herr Moritz&rsquo;s lodgings to-day. I could not
+      wait any longer, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you see him, and speak with him, Trude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No Marie, he was not there; and the people in the house told me that he
+      had been gone for a week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone!&rdquo; repeated Marie, thoughtfully. &ldquo;What does it mean? What could
+      persuade him to abandon me in this hour of need? Tell me, Trude, what do
+      you think? Console me if you can. You really know nothing further than
+      that he is gone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little bit more, but not much, my heart&rsquo;s child. When the people told
+      me that he had disappeared eight days ago, it seemed as if one of the Alps
+      had fallen on my heart, and my limbs trembled so I could go no farther,
+      and I was obliged to sit down upon the stairs and cry bitterly, picturing
+      all sorts of dreadful things to myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dreadful things?&rdquo; asked Marie. &ldquo;Oh, Trude, you do not believe that my
+      good, brave Moritz could do any thing sinful and cowardly, like wicked
+      men? You do not think that my beloved&mdash;oh, no, no&mdash;I know that
+      he is more noble; he will bear the burden of life as I will, so long as it
+      pleases God.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old woman hung down her head, and humbly folded her hands. &ldquo;Forgive
+      me, my child, that I have such weak and sinful thoughts. I will apologize
+      for them in my heart to you and your beloved so long as I live. After I
+      had cried enough, I determined to go to the Gray Cloister, and beg the
+      director to see me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you see him to speak with him, dear good Trude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear child. I told him I was an aged aunt of Herr Moritz, who had
+      come to Berlin to visit him; and finding that he was absent, I would like
+      to know where he had gone, and, how long he would remain away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Trude, how clever you are, and how kindly you think of every thing!&rdquo;
+       cried Marie, embracing her old nurse, and kissing affectionately her
+      sunburnt, wrinkled cheek. &ldquo;What did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He told me that Herr Moritz had begged permission to be absent fourteen
+      days to take an urgent, unavoidable journey; that ten days had already
+      expired, and he would soon return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he will be here in four days, and perhaps will bring hope and aid!
+      He has gone to seek it; I know and I feel it, though I cannot divine where
+      the assistance will come from. Oh, Trude, if I could only gain a favorable
+      delay until Moritz returns!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every thing is arranged,&rdquo; murmured Trude. &ldquo;The marriage license is
+      already made out, and Parson Dietrich has promised to be ready at any
+      hour. Herr Ebenstreit has sent the money, doubling the amount required to
+      the &lsquo;Invalids&rsquo; Hospital&rsquo; at Berlin, so that when the papers of nobility
+      arrive, there&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; interrupted Marie, &ldquo;do not speak of it. It is fearful to think of,
+      and it crazes me to hear it. I will resort to every extreme. Since my
+      father and mother are deaf to my entreaties, I will try to move him to
+      pity. I have never been able to see him alone; my mother is watchful that
+      an explanation should be impossible between us. I will implore this man to
+      have pity upon me, and confide in him to whom they would sell me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude shook her head mournfully. &ldquo;I fear it will be in vain, dear child.
+      This man has no heart. I have proved him, and I know it.&mdash;Hark the
+      bell rings! Who can it be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both stepped out of the little garret-room to peep over the banister.
+      Since Marie had been betrothed to the rich banker Ebenstreit, the general
+      had received from his kind wife a servant in pompous livery for his own
+      service. This servant had already opened the door, and Marie heard him
+      announce in a loud voice, &ldquo;Herr Ebenstreit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He!&rdquo; Marie started back with horror. &ldquo;He, so early in the morning! this
+      is no accident, Trude. What does it mean? Hush! the servant is coming!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will go down,&rdquo; whispered Trude; &ldquo;perhaps I can hear something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude hurried away as her young lady glided back into her room, and never
+      glanced at the servant who sprang past her upon the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is a hypocrite and a spy; he has been hired to watch and observe my
+      child, and he will betray her if he discovers any thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant announced, with respectful, humble mien, that Herr Ebenstreit
+      had arrived, and Frau von Werrig desired her daughter to descend to the
+      parlor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well&mdash;say that I will come directly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant remained rubbing his hands in an undecided, embarrassed
+      manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you not go down?&rdquo; asked Marie. &ldquo;Have you any thing further to tell
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would say,&rdquo; said he, spying about the room, as if he were afraid some
+      one were listening, &ldquo;that if a poor, simple man like myself could be
+      useful to you, and you could confide in me your commissions, I should be
+      too happy to prove to you that Carl Leberecht is an honest fellow, and has
+      a heart, and it hurts his feelings to see the miss suffer so much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you,&rdquo; said Marie, gently. &ldquo;I am glad to feel that you have
+      sympathy for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I can be of the least service to you, have the goodness to call me,
+      and give me your commissions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I will, although I do not believe it practicable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope miss will not betray me to Frau von Werrig or old Trude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I promise you that, and here is my hand upon it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant kissed the extended hand respectfully. &ldquo;I will enter into the
+      service of my young lady at once, and tell her she must prepare for the
+      worst: Herr Ebenstreit just said, &lsquo;The diploma of nobility has arrived.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie turned deadly pale, and for an instant it seemed as if she would
+      sink down from fright, but she recovered herself and conquered her
+      weakness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, it is very well that I should know that; I will go down
+      directly,&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With calm, proud bearing Marie entered the sitting-room of her parents,
+      and returned the salutations of her betrothed, who hastened toward her
+      with tender assiduity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Marie,&rdquo; cried her mother, &ldquo;I have the honor to present to you
+      Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The certificate of nobility arrived this
+      morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I congratulate you, mother&mdash;you have at last found the long-desired
+      heir to your name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Congratulate me above all, my beautiful betrothed,&rdquo; said Herr Ebenstreit,
+      in a hoarse, scarcely intelligible voice. &ldquo;This title crowns all my
+      wishes, as it makes me your husband. I came to beg, dear Marie, that our
+      marriage should take place to-morrow, as there is nothing now to prevent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; she proudly interrupted him, &ldquo;have I ever permitted this familiar
+      appellation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have allowed it,&rdquo; blurted out the general, packed in cushions in his
+      roiling chair. &ldquo;Proceed, my dear son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The latter bowed with a grateful smile, and continued: &ldquo;I would beg, my
+      dear Marie, to choose whether our wedding-journey shall be in the
+      direction of Italy, Spain, France, or wherever else it may please her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it thus arranged?&rdquo; asked Marie. &ldquo;Is the marriage to take place early
+      to-morrow, and then the happy pair take a journey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered her mother, hastily, &ldquo;it is so decided upon, and it will
+      be carried out. You may naturally, my dear daughter, have some preference;
+      so make it known&mdash;I am sure your betrothed will joyfully accord it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will avail myself of this permission,&rdquo; she quietly answered. &ldquo;I wish to
+      have a private conversation with this gentleman immediately, and without
+      witnesses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, how unfortunate I am!&rdquo; sighed Herr Ebenstreit. &ldquo;My dear Marie asks
+      just that which I unfortunately cannot grant her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What should prevent your fulfilling my wish?&rdquo; asked Marie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My promise,&rdquo; he whined. &ldquo;On the very day of my betrothal, I was obliged
+      to promise my dear mother-in-law never to speak with you alone or
+      correspond with my sweet lady-love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These are the rules of decency and of etiquette, which I hope my daughter
+      will respect,&rdquo; said Frau von Werrig, in a severe tone. &ldquo;No virtuous young
+      girl would presume to receive her betrothed alone or exchange love-letters
+      with him before marriage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After the wedding there will be opportunities enough for such follies,&rdquo;
+       grumbled the general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may be sure that I shall use them, dear father,&rdquo; laughed Ebenstreit.
+      &ldquo;I would beg my respected mother to release me a half-hour from my oath
+      to-day, that I may indulge the first expressed wish that my future wife
+      favors me with.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is impossible, my son. I never deviate from my principles. You will
+      not speak with my daughter before marriage, except in the presence of her
+      parents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother, do you insist upon it?&rdquo; cried Marie, terrified. &ldquo;Will you not
+      indulge this slight wish?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;This slight wish!&rsquo;&rdquo; sneered her mother. &ldquo;As if I did not know why you
+      ask this private conversation. You wish to persuade our son-in-law to what
+      you in vain have tried to implore your parents to do. A modest maiden has
+      nothing to say to her future husband, which her parents, and above all her
+      mother, could not hear. So tell your betrothed what you desire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, mother, you must then take the consequences.&mdash;Herr Ebenstreit,
+      they will force me to become your wife, they will sell me as merchandise
+      to you, and you have accepted the bargain in good faith, believing that I
+      agree to sacrifice my freedom and human rights for riches. They have
+      deceived you, sir! I am not ready to give myself up to the highest bidder.
+      I am a woman, with a heart to love and hate, who esteems affection
+      superior to wealth. I cannot marry you, and I beg you not to teach me to
+      hate you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A savage curse broke forth from the general, who, forgetting his gout,
+      rose furious, shaking his clinched fist at his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His wife was immediately by his side, and pushed him into his arm-chair,
+      commanding him, in her harsh, cold to remain quiet and take care of his
+      health, and listen to what his son-in-law had to say to his unfeeling and
+      unnatural daughter. &ldquo;He alone has to decide.&mdash;Speak, my dear son,&rdquo;
+       said she, turning to the young man, who, with a malicious smile, had
+      listened to the baroness, fixing his dull-blue eyes upon the young girl,
+      who never seemed so desirable to him, as she now stood before him with
+      glowing cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Again I say, speak, my dear son, and tell my daughter the truth; do you
+      hear, the truth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will permit me, my dearest mother, I will,&rdquo; answered Ebenstreit,
+      with submissive kindness, again regarding the daughter. &ldquo;You have made me
+      a sad confession, Marie,&rdquo; said he, sighing, &ldquo;but I will acknowledge that I
+      am not surprised, for your mother told me when I asked for your hand, that
+      she feared I should never gain your consent, for you did not love me,
+      although she herself, and the general, would grant theirs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was that all that I told you?&rdquo; asked the mother, coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not all,&rdquo; continued Ebenstreit, slightly inclining; &ldquo;you added, &lsquo;My
+      daughter loves a beggar, a poor school-master, and she entertains the
+      romantic idea of marrying him.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what did you reply?&rdquo; asked Marie, almost breathless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Marie, I laughed, repeating my proposal of marriage to your
+      mother, saying, that I was ready to take up the combat with the poor
+      pedagogue, and that you seemed all the more interesting and amiable for
+      this romantic love. Life is so tedious and wretched, that one is glad to
+      have some change and distraction. I assure you, I have not been so
+      entertained for long years, as in the last fourteen days in this silent
+      war with you. It amuses me infinitely to see you so stubborn and prudish,
+      and increases my love for you. How could it be otherwise? The rich banker,
+      Ebenstreit, has never seen a woman who was not ready to accept his hand,
+      and why should he not love the first one who resists it? You have excited
+      my self-love and vanity. You have made the marriage a matter of ambition,
+      and you will comprehend that my answer is: &lsquo;Fraulein von Leuthen must and
+      shall be my wife, no matter what it costs me. She defies my riches and
+      despises money, so I will force her to respect my wealth and recognize its
+      power. Besides, she is a cruel, egotistical daughter; who has no pity for
+      her poor parents, and is capable of seeing them perish for her foolish
+      attachment. I will make her a good child, and force her to make her
+      parents, and thereby herself, happy.&rsquo; All this I said to myself, and I
+      have acted and shall act accordingly. I have only to add that the ceremony
+      will take place to-morrow, at eleven. We will leave immediately after.
+      Have the goodness therefore to choose in which direction, that I may at
+      once make the necessary arrangements.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lost&mdash;lost without hope!&rdquo; cried Marie, in anguish, covering her face
+      with her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rather say rescued from misfortune,&rdquo; answered Ebenstreit, quietly.
+      &ldquo;Believe me, there is but one sorrow that may not be borne, may not be
+      conquered, and that is poverty, which is a corroding, consuming malady,
+      annihilating body, and soul, swifter and surer than the most subtle
+      poison. It stifles all noble feelings, all poetical thoughts and great
+      deeds, and, believe me, love even cannot resist its terrible power. One
+      day you will understand this. I will be patient and indulgent, and await
+      it with hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, what a noble and high-minded man!&rdquo; cried the mother, with emphasis.&mdash;&ldquo;Marie
+      should kneel and thank her Maker for such a magnanimous savior and lover,
+      who will shield her from all evil and misfortune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sobbing and sighing, the daughter had stood with her face concealed; now
+      she regarded the cold-hearted, smiling woman, with flashing eyes and keen
+      contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank him!&rdquo; she cried; &ldquo;no, I accuse, I curse him. He is an atheist, and
+      denies love. He is not capable of a noble thought or action, scorning and
+      defaming all that is beautiful and elevated, worshipping only mammon. I
+      will never marry him. You may force me to the altar, and there I will
+      denounce him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will kill me,&rdquo; cried the general; &ldquo;she will murder her aged parents,
+      leaving them to starve and perish, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence!&rdquo; commanded his wife. &ldquo;Leave off your complaints, she is not
+      worth the tears or remonstrances of her parents. She would try to be our
+      murderess, but she shall not.&mdash;My son, inform her of your decision.
+      Answer her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The response to your romantic language is simple and natural, my dear
+      Marie. I have already entered into your feelings, and am prepared for this
+      idea of refusing your lover at the altar, which is found in novels, and I
+      supposed that it might occur to you. Money compasses all things and
+      according to our wishes. My fortune procures for me a dispensation from
+      public authorities to be married here in the house of our dear parents.
+      The law demands four witnesses, who will be represented by your parents,
+      my servant Philip, and the sacristan whom the clergyman will bring.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And they will hear me abjure you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very possible, dearest, but the witnesses will not listen to you.
+      Money makes the deaf to hear, and the hearing ones deaf. Old parson
+      Dietrich knows the story of your love, and believes, with us, that it is a
+      malady that you must be cured of. Therefore, in pity to you, he will not
+      listen, and the others are paid to keep silent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there no hope, O Heaven?&rdquo; cried Marie, imploringly. &ldquo;O God, Thou hast
+      permitted it&mdash;hast Thou no pity in my need, and sendest me no aid?&rdquo;
+       Rushing to her father, and kneeling at his feet, she continued: &ldquo;Have
+      mercy upon your poor child! You are an old man, and may live but a few
+      years; do not burden your conscience with the fearful reproaches of your
+      only child, whom you will condemn to an inconsolably long and unhappy
+      life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you no pity yourself? Do you not know that I, your father, am so
+      poor, that I have not even the necessary care? You wish your parents to
+      sacrifice themselves for you, and suffer want! No, the daughter should
+      sacrifice herself for her parents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A beautiful sacrifice, a fine sorrow!&rdquo; sneered her mother. &ldquo;She will be a
+      rich woman, and have the most splendid house and furniture and most costly
+      equipage in Berlin!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And a husband who adores her,&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, &ldquo;and who will feel it
+      his duty to make her and her parents happy. Resolve bravely to bury the
+      past, and look the immutable future joyfully in the face. Eleven will be
+      the happy hour; fear not that the altar will not be worthy the charming
+      bride of such a rich family. Money will procure every thing, and I will
+      send a florist who will change this room into a blooming temple, fit to
+      receive the goddess of love. In your room you will find the gift of my
+      affection, a simple wedding-dress, which I trust you will approve of. Oh,
+      do not shake your head, do not say that you will never wear it; you must
+      believe that all resistance is in vain. You will become my wife, I and my
+      money will it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I,&rdquo; cried Marie, standing before him pale and defiant, regarding him
+      with unspeakable contempt, &ldquo;I and my love will it not. May God judge
+      between us! May He forgive those who have brought this misfortune upon me!
+      I can only say, &lsquo;Woe to them!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Woe to you!&rdquo; cried her mother. &ldquo;Woe to the seducer who has persuaded our
+      child to sin and crime, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush mother! I will not permit you to slander him whom I love, and ever
+      shall, so long&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Until you forget him, and love me, Marie,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit. Approaching
+      her, he seized her hand, and pressed a kiss upon it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew it away with disgust, and turned slowly to the door, tossing back
+      her head proudly. &ldquo;Where are you going?&rdquo; demanded her mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With her hand upon the knob, she replied, turning her pale, wan face to
+      her mother, &ldquo;To my own room, which I suppose is permitted to me, as there
+      is nothing more to be said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her mother would reply, and retain her, but her son-in-law held her gently
+      back. &ldquo;Let her go,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;she needs rest for composure and to accustom
+      herself to the thought that her fate is unavoidable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what if she should resort to desperate means in her mad infatuation
+      and foolish passion? Some one must watch her continually, for she may try
+      to elope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, dearest mother, some one must be with her, in whom she
+      will confide. Would it not be possible to win old Trude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, nothing would gain her; she is a silly fool, who thinks only Marie is
+      of consequence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit shrugged his shoulders. &ldquo;That means that she would sell herself
+      at a high price. I beg that you will send for her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will see,&rdquo; said she, calling the old woman, who entered from the
+      opposite door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude looked about, scowling and grumbling. &ldquo;Leberecht told me my mistress
+      called me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you then look so furious, and what are you seeking on the table?&rdquo;
+       asked Frau von Werrig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My money,&rdquo; cried Trude, vehemently. &ldquo;I thought that you called me to pay
+      me, and that my wages were all counted out on the table. But I see there
+      is nothing there, and I fear I shall get none, and be poor as a
+      church-mouse all my life long. Your honor promised me positively that, as
+      soon as the wedding was decided upon, you would pay me every farthing,
+      with interest, and I depended upon it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall have all, and much more than the general&rsquo;s wife promised you,
+      if you will be a true and faithful servant to us,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I always have been, and ever shall be,&rdquo; snarled Trude. &ldquo;No person
+      can say aught against me. Now, I want my money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And obstinate enough you have been too,&rdquo; said her mistress. &ldquo;Can you deny
+      that you have not always taken my daughter&rsquo;s part?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not deny it. I have nursed her from childhood, and I love her as my
+      own child, and would do any thing to make her happy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you believe, Trude,&rdquo; cried the general, &ldquo;that Marie could be happy
+      with that poor, starving wretch of a school-master? Has she not
+      experienced in her own home the misfortune and shame of poverty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it well,&rdquo; sighed the old one, sadly, &ldquo;and it has converted me to
+      believe that it would be a great misfortune for Marie to marry the poor
+      school-master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, will you then faithfully help us to prevent it?&rdquo; quickly asked
+      Ebenstreit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can I do it?&rdquo; she sighed, shrugging her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can persuade my daughter to be reasonable, and yield to that which
+      she cannot prevent. You are the only one who can make any impression upon
+      Marie, as she confides in you. Watch her, that in a moment of passionate
+      desperation she does not commit some rash act. You can tell us, further,
+      what she says, and warn us of any crazy plan she might form to carry out
+      her own will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is to say, I must betray my Marie?&rdquo; cried Trude, angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not betray, but rescue her. Will you do it?&rdquo; asked Ebenstreit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to be paid my wages, my two hundred thalers, that I have honestly
+      earned, and I will have them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit took a piece of paper from his pocket. Writing a few lines with
+      a pencil, he laid it upon the table. &ldquo;If you will take this to my cashier
+      after the ceremony to-morrow, he will pay you four hundred thalers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Four hundred thalers in cash,&rdquo; cried Trude, joyfully clapping her hands.
+      &ldquo;Shall all that beautiful money be mine, and&mdash;No, I do not believe
+      you,&rdquo; she cried, her face reassuming its gloomy, suspicious look. &ldquo;You
+      promise it to me to-day, that I may assist you, and persuade Marie to the
+      marriage, but to-morrow, when old Trude is of no more use, you will send
+      me away penniless. Oh, I know how it is. I have lived long enough to
+      understand the tricks of rich people. I will see the cash first&mdash;only
+      for that will I sell myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The old woman pleases me,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit. &ldquo;She is practical, and she is
+      right.&mdash;If I promise you the money in an hour, will you persuade
+      Marie to cease her foolish resistance, and be my wife? Will you watch over
+      her, and tell us if any thing unusual occurs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Four hundred thalers is a pretty sum,&rdquo; repeated Trude, in a low voice to
+      herself. &ldquo;I might buy myself a place in the hospital, and have enough left
+      to get me a new bed and neat furniture and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here her voice was lost in unintelligible mumbling, and, much excited, she
+      appeared to count eagerly. With her bony forefinger she numbered over the
+      fingers of her left hand, as if each were a fortune that she must verify
+      and examine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mother and the banker regarded each other with mocking looks; the
+      general looked at the money, grumbling: &ldquo;If I had had four hundred thalers
+      the last time I played, I could have won back my money in playing again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Old woman,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, &ldquo;have you not finished with your reckoning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, with an exultant laugh, &ldquo;I have done! Four hundred
+      thalers are not sufficient. I must have five, and if you will give them to
+      me in cash in an hour, then I will do every thing that you wish, and
+      persuade Marie to the marriage. I will watch her day and night, and tell
+      you every thing that she says and does. But I must have five hundred in
+      cash!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit turned his dull-blue eyes to Frau von Werrig with a triumphant
+      smile. &ldquo;Did you not tell me the old woman could not be bought? I knew that
+      I was right. You did not offer her money enough; she will sell herself
+      dear as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, as dear as she can,&rdquo; laughed Trude&mdash;&ldquo;five hundred is my price.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall have it in cash in an hour,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, in a friendly
+      manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So much money,&rdquo; whined the general; &ldquo;it would have saved me if I had had
+      it that last time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My son-in-law, I must confess you are exceedingly generous,&rdquo; remarked the
+      mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No sum would be too great to assure me my bride. Go now, Trude, you shall
+      have the money in time.&mdash;Will you allow me, father, to send your
+      servant to my office for it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Send Leberecht here, Trude!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old woman hurried out of the room, but the door once closed, her
+      manner changed. One might have supposed a sudden cramp had seized her,
+      from her distorted face, and twitching and panting, and beating the air
+      with her clinched fists, and her quivering lips uttering broken words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Approaching footsteps warned her to assume her general manner and
+      expression, and cease her manipulations. &ldquo;The ladies and gentlemen wish
+      you in the parlor,&rdquo; mumbled Trude to the servant descending the stairs.
+      &ldquo;But where have you been, and what have you to do up there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was looking for you, lovely one&mdash;nothing more!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, now you have found me, tell me what you want? I know you were
+      sneaking about, listening, because you thought I was with Marie. I
+      understand you better than you think I do. I have found many a viper, and
+      I am familiar with their aspect. Go! they are waiting for you, and let me
+      find you again spying about, and I will throw a pail of water on you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With this friendly assurance Trude dismissed Leberecht, and hastened with
+      youthful activity to the little garret-room, when Marie fell upon her
+      neck, weeping bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Calm yourself&mdash;do not weep so&mdash;it breaks my heart, my dear
+      child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And mine cannot break. I must endure all this anguish and survive this
+      shame. Help me, my good mother, stand by me! It is impossible for me to
+      marry that dreadful man. I have sworn constancy to my beloved Moritz, and
+      I must be firm, or die!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Die? then you will kill me!&rdquo; murmured the old one, &ldquo;for, if you go, I
+      must go also. But we will not give up yet, as we are both living; we will
+      not despair for life. I am going once more to Moritz&rsquo;s lodgings; it may be
+      he has returned, and will rescue you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, do, good Trude; tell him that I have courage and determination to
+      risk and bear every thing&mdash;that I will await him; that nothing would
+      be too difficult or dangerous to serve to unite me to him! Tell him that I
+      prefer a life of poverty and want by his side, to abundance and riches in
+      a splendid palace with that detested creature&mdash;but no, say nothing
+      about it, he knows it well! If he has returned, tell him all that has
+      happened, and that I am resolved to brave the utmost, to save myself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will go, dear child, but I have first my work to do, and enough of it
+      too&mdash;but listen to what they have made me become.&rdquo; Hastily, in a low
+      voice, she related to Marie the story of her corruption, excited as
+      before, her limbs shaking and her fists clinched. &ldquo;They say we old women
+      resemble cats, but from to-day forth I know that is a shameful lie! If I
+      had possessed their nature and claws, I should have sprung at the throat
+      of this rascal, and torn out his windpipe; but, instead of that, I stood
+      as if delighted with his degrading proposal! Oh, fie! the good-for-nothing
+      kidnapper would tempt a poor creature! Let us wait, they will get their
+      reward. He shall pay me the five hundred thalers, and then this trader of
+      hearts shall recognize that, however much ill-earned money he may throw
+      away, love and constancy are hot to be bought. We will teach him a
+      lesson,&rdquo; and with this, the old servant ceased, gasping for breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go now, Trude, and learn if he has returned; upon him depends my
+      happiness, and life even&mdash;he is my last hope!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going, but first I would get the wages of my sin, and play the
+      hypocrite, and tell a few untruths; then I will go to Moritz&rsquo;s lodgings,
+      and the baker also. Do not despair; I have a joyful presentiment that God
+      will have pity upon us and send us aid.&rdquo; Trude kissed and embraced her
+      child, and scarcely waited an hour, when she was demanded in the parlor to
+      receive her money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr Ebenstreit was heartily delighted with her zealous impatience, and
+      handed her ten rolls of gold, reminding her of the conditions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have already consoled her a little, and she begins to change. I hope
+      every thing will turn for good. Just leave her alone with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But first, I must go and see my aged brother, who will take care of my
+      money,&rdquo; replied Trude. &ldquo;He is a safe man and will not spend it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trude,&rdquo; cried the general, &ldquo;what an old fool! to seek at distance what is
+      so near you. I will take your money, and give you interest. Do you hear? I
+      will take care of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, general, I&rsquo;d rather give it to my brother, on account of the
+      relationship.&rdquo; She slipped out of the room, hid the money in her bed, and
+      hurriedly left the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Scarcely an hour passed ere Trude returned as fleetly as she went. She
+      cast only a look into the kitchen, and hastened up to Marie&rsquo;s room. Her
+      success was evident in her happy, smiling face, and coming home she had
+      repeated to herself, &ldquo;How happy Marie will be!&rdquo; almost the entire way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had but closed the door, when the mean little Leberecht glided from
+      behind the chimney, and crept to listen at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Within was a lively conversation, and twice a shout of joy was heard and
+      Marie, exultant, cried, &ldquo;Oh, Trude! dear Trude! all goes well, I fear
+      nothing now. God has sent me the savior which I implored!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Leberecht stood, bent over, applying his ear to the keyhole, listening to
+      every word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oh, Trude! if you could only have seen the traitor, glued to the door,
+      with open eyes and mouth! Could you have seen the eavesdropper rubbing his
+      hands together, grinning, and listening in breathless suspense!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Why cannot you surprise him, Trude, and fulfil your threat to deluge him
+      and chase him away from your child&rsquo;s door? They forgot the necessity of
+      prudence, and the possibility of being overheard. At last it occurred to
+      the old servant, and she tore open the door, but no one was there&mdash;it
+      was deserted and still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God be thanked, no one has listened,&rdquo; whispered Trude. &ldquo;I will go down
+      and tell them that I hope, if we can stay alone all day, you will be
+      calmer and more reasonable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do it, Trude; I do not dare to see any one for fear my face will betray
+      me, and my mother has very sharp eyes. Return soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She opened the door, and saw not the eavesdropper and spy, who had but
+      just time to conceal himself, and stand maliciously grinning at the
+      retreating figure of the faithful servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He slipped lightly from his hiding-place down to his sleeping-room, in a
+      niche under the stairs. For a long time he reflected, upon his bedside&mdash;his
+      watery blue eyes staring at nothing. &ldquo;This must be well considered,&rdquo; he
+      mumbled. &ldquo;There is, at last, a capital to be won. Which shall I do first,
+      to grasp a good deal? Shall I wait, or go at once to Herr Ebenstreit? Very
+      naturally they would both deny it, and say that I had made up the whole
+      story to gain money. I had better let the affair go on: they can take a
+      short drive, and when they are about an hour absent, I will sell my secret
+      at a higher price. Now I will pretend to be quite harmless, and after
+      supper let the bomb burst!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV. THE ELOPEMENT.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Evening had set in. The card-table had been arranged, and Leberecht had
+      rolled his master to it, taking his place behind his chair. The hour of
+      whist the general impatiently awaited the entire day, and it was regularly
+      observed. Even in the contract with his adopted son it had been expressly
+      mentioned as a duty, that he should not only secure to them yearly income,
+      but also devote an hour to cards every evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr Ebenstreit regarded it as a tax, which he must observe until married.
+      The general was much his superior at cards, and, moreover, played the
+      dummy, and the stake being high, it was quite an income for the future
+      father-in-law, and regarded by him as the one bright spot in his daily
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cards had been dealt, and Leberecht had assorted the general&rsquo;s, and
+      placed them in his gouty hand, when Trude entered, exultingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has happened? What makes you interrupt us?&rdquo; cried the general. &ldquo;Did
+      you not remember that I have told you always not to disturb us at this
+      hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, general, but I thought good news was never amiss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have you pleasant to tell us?&rdquo; harshly demanded Frau von Werrig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My young lady&rsquo;s compliments,&rdquo; cried Trude, triumphantly; &ldquo;she begins to
+      see that she must yield to her fate, and that it will do no good to resist
+      any longer. She will be ready for the ceremony at eleven o&rsquo;clock to-morrow
+      morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general uttered a cry of joy, and struck the table so violently, with
+      his hand, that the cards were thrown together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His wife bowed dignifiedly, and the happy bridegroom gave old Trude some
+      gold-pieces upon the favorable news.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has she, then, been converted by your persuasion?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Through my persuasion and her own good sense. She understands that, if
+      she cannot marry her dear Moritz, Herr Ebenstreit is the most fit husband,
+      because he loves her, and is so generous to her old parents. One thing she
+      would like an answer to&mdash;can I accompany her to her new home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, old woman, it will be very agreeable to have so sensible a person,&rdquo;
+       said Ebenstreit. &ldquo;Tell Marie that it gives me pleasure to fulfil her
+      wish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In that case I would repeat that Fraulein begs for indulgence and
+      forbearance until to-morrow, and would like to remain alone to compose
+      herself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not wish, in the least, to see her,&rdquo; said her mother; &ldquo;she can do
+      what she likes until then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will tell Marie, and she will rejoice,&rdquo; cried Trude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell her, from her father, that it is very agreeable to him not to see
+      her pale, wretched-looking face again till morning.&mdash;Now, my son, pay
+      attention, and you, Trude, do not presume to interrupt us again.
+      Leberecht, play out my ace of hearts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The latter, with his eyes cast down, and with a perfectly indifferent
+      manner, played the card indicated, and Trude left the room quietly and
+      unobserved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every thing is arranged, my child,&rdquo; said Trude, as she re-entered Marie&rsquo;s
+      room. &ldquo;They are playing cards, which always lasts two hours, then Herr
+      Ebenstreit goes away, and the family will go to bed. You have eighteen
+      hours, before you will be discovered. Hark! it strikes seven, and it is
+      already quite dark. When the post-horn sounds, then it is time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Trude! my dear mother, my heart almost ceases to beat, with anxiety,
+      and I quake with fear,&rdquo; sighed Marie. &ldquo;I am conscious that I have
+      commenced a fearful undertaking!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have driven you to it&mdash;it is not your fault,&rdquo; said Trude,
+      consolingly. &ldquo;Every human being is free to work out his own good or bad
+      fortune, and, as our dear Old Fritz says, &lsquo;to be happy in the future world
+      in his own way.&rsquo; They have sold you for money, and you only prove to them
+      that you are no slave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I prove also that I am a disobedient daughter,&rdquo; added Marie,
+      trembling. &ldquo;At this hour, it weighs like a heavy burden upon my heart, and
+      the words of Holy Writ burn into my very soul&mdash;&lsquo;Honor thy father and
+      thy mother, that it may be well with thee.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have honored them all your life,&rdquo; said Trude, solemnly; &ldquo;I can
+      witness it before God and man. You have worked for them without thanks or
+      love, receiving only contempt. It is also written, &lsquo;Thou shalt leave
+      father and mother, and cleave unto thy husband.&rsquo; You still follow the
+      commands of God, and may it bring you happiness and blessing. My prayers
+      and thoughts go with you, my child! a mother could not love her offspring
+      more tenderly than I do you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No mother could more tenderly and faithfully care for her than you have
+      for me, Trude,&rdquo; cried Marie, pressing her lovingly to her breast. &ldquo;Through
+      you alone is my rescue possible, for you give us the money to undertake
+      the long journey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not I,&rdquo; she laughed; &ldquo;it is Herr Ebenstreit, and that makes it the more
+      amusing; the wicked always set the traps into which they fall themselves.&rdquo;
+       Suddenly the loud, quivering tones of the post-horn were heard, &ldquo;Es ritten
+      drei Reiter zum Thore hinaus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has come!&rdquo; cried Marie, and her face beamed with delight. &ldquo;He calls
+      me! I am coming!&mdash;Farewell, dear, peaceful room, where I have so
+      toiled, wept, and suffered! I shall never see thee again! My beloved calls
+      me, and I go to follow him even unto death! Pardon me, O God! Thou seest
+      that I cannot do otherwise! They would force me to perjury, and I dare not
+      break my oath! I cannot forsake him whom I love!&mdash;When they curse me,
+      Trude, kneel, and implor God to bless me, who is the Father of love! My
+      conscience does not reproach me. I have worked for them when they needed
+      it; now their adopted son, to whom they have sold their name, allows them
+      a yearly rent, and I can work for myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hark! there is the post-horn again, you must go,&rdquo; murmured Trude,
+      struggling to force back her tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless me, mother,&rdquo; implored Marie, kneeling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God&rsquo;s blessing go with you,&rdquo; she said, laying her hands upon her head,
+      &ldquo;and may it render of no avail the curses of men, but permit you to walk
+      in love and happiness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Amen, amen!&rdquo; sighed Marie, &ldquo;now farewell, dear mother, farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie rose, and kissing Trude again, flitted down the stairs, and out of
+      the house, Trude following, holding her breath and listening in fearful
+      excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again resounded the post-horn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are gone,&rdquo; murmured Trude, bowing her head and praying long and
+      fervently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The general was particularly fortunate this evening, which caused him to
+      be unusually cheerful and satisfied. After every rubber he gathered up the
+      thalers, until he had amassed a most satisfactory pile. As the clock
+      struck ten, Frau von Werrig declared that they must finish and go to bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The general yielded, with a sigh, to her decision, for he knew, by long
+      years of experience, that it would be in vain to defy her will. He shoved
+      his winnings into a leather bag, which he always carried with him, and
+      gave Leberecht the order to roll away his chair, when the servant, with a
+      solemn bow, stepped closely to him, and begged the general to listen to
+      him a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what have you to say?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have only one request&mdash;that you will permit me to prove that I am
+      a faithful servant, who looks out for the good of his employers. You have
+      given Trude five hundred thalers that she might watch over your daughter.
+      I can show you how well she deserved it, and how differently your humble
+      servant would have done.&mdash;Have the goodness, Frau von Werrig, to call
+      Trude to bid Fraulein come down, for you have something important to
+      communicate to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His mistress proudly regarded him and seemed to try to read his meaning in
+      his smiling, humble face. &ldquo;And if my daughter comes, what have you to
+      say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If she comes, then I am a miserable fool and scoundrel, but I beg you to
+      call Trude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a long time before the old woman appeared, confused and sleepy,
+      asking&mdash;&ldquo;what they wanted at such a late hour?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and tell my daughter that I wish to see her at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude trembled, but composed herself, saying, &ldquo;There is time enough
+      to-morrow. Fraulein has been asleep a long time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She lies,&rdquo; sneered Leberecht, taking the precaution to protect himself
+      behind the general&rsquo;s arm-chair. &ldquo;She knows that she is not in bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you sneak, you rascal,&rdquo; cried Trude, shaking her fist at him, &ldquo;how
+      dare you say that I tell a lie? How can such a miserable creature as you
+      impute to others what you do yourself every time that you open your
+      mouth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Frau von Werrig, she is only quarrelling, in order to gain time&mdash;every
+      moment is precious. I beg you to go up-stairs, and see for yourself, if
+      your daughter is there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fraulein has locked the door so as not to be disturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said Leberecht, &ldquo;Trude has locked it, and has the key in her
+      pocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give up the key,&rdquo; shrieked the general, who in vain tried to rise, &ldquo;or I
+      will call the police, and send you to prison.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do it, but I will not give it to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you not see she has it?&rdquo; cried Leberecht.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you wretch, I will pay you&mdash;I will scratch your eyes out, you
+      miserable creature!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trude, be quiet,&rdquo; commanded Ebenstreit; &ldquo;the general orders to give up
+      the key&mdash;do it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, do it at once,&rdquo; shrieked Frau von Werrig, &ldquo;or I will dismiss you
+      from my service.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That you will not have to do, as I shall go myself. I will not give up
+      the key.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The door is old, and with a good push one could open it,&rdquo; said Leberecht.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, my son, let us see,&rdquo; said the mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They hastened up to the room, while the general scolded, furiously that he
+      must sit still. Leberecht and Trude cast furious, menacing glances at each
+      other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly a loud crash was heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have broken open the door!&rdquo; cried the general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I said that it was old and frail&mdash;what do you say now, beautiful
+      Trude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old woman wiped with her hand the drops of perspiration from her
+      forehead, caused by her anguish. &ldquo;You are a bad fellow, and God will
+      punish you for your treason, that you have tormented a noble, unhappy
+      girl. I saw that you were an eavesdropper, and you know all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is gone!&rdquo; shrieked the mother, rushing into the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The room is empty,&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit. &ldquo;Marie is not there. Tell us,
+      Leberecht, what you know about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will, if we can agree about the pay&mdash;the old woman bothers me, and
+      beg the young gentleman to go into the next room with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O Almighty God, have compassion upon my poor little Marie,&rdquo; murmured
+      Trude, kneeling, and covering her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit in the mean time withdrew to the other room, followed by the
+      servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak!&rdquo; commanded his master, &ldquo;and tell me what you have to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Leberecht shrugged his shoulders. &ldquo;We are two men who have urgent business
+      with each other. I am not at present a servant and you the master. I am a
+      man who has an important secret to sell, and you are the man who would buy
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What strange, unheard-of language is this?&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The language of a man who cannot only deprive the rich banker Ebenstreit
+      of a lovely wife, but of his title also. You said yourself, sir, this
+      morning, that it was only valid if you succeeded in marrying the daughter
+      of General von Leuthen. No none knows where you can find your bride but
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Trude,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know she will not betray Fraulein, and you have not even tried to
+      make her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mistaken; Trude is as easily bought as any one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say that because she has taken five hundred thalers from you. She has
+      not helped you, and it is useless to ask for your money, as she has not
+      got it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How so? Has she given it away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You provided the money for your bride to run away and marry elsewhere, as
+      Trude gave it to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit stamped his foot with rage, striding backward and forward in
+      furious excitement, while Leberecht watched him, sardonically smiling.
+      &ldquo;Let us come to an end with this business,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, stopping
+      before his servant. &ldquo;You know where Fraulein can be found, and you wish to
+      sell the secret&mdash;tell me your price.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Three thousand thalers, and a clerkship in your bank, which you intend to
+      continue under another name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are beside yourself. I am not so foolish as to grant such senseless
+      demands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every hour that you wait I demand a thousand thalers more, and if you
+      stop to reflect long your betrothed and your title both are lost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a miserable scamp!&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, enraged; &ldquo;I will inform the
+      police. There are means enough to force you to give the information.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not believe it. Trude will not tell you, and I should like to know
+      what can force me if I will not. The king has done away with torture, and
+      I have informed you how to make me speak. Three thousand thalers and a
+      clerkship in your office. Take care! it is almost eleven o&rsquo;clock&mdash;at
+      midnight I shall demand four thousand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI. UNDER THE STARRY HEAVENS.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was a beautiful, clear, moonlight night. The world reposed in silence.
+      Mankind with their cares and sorrows, their joys and hopes, had gone to
+      rest. Over town and village, over highway and forest had flitted the
+      sweet, consoling angel&mdash;Sleep. The sad were soothed, the heavy-laden
+      were lightened of their burdens, to the despairing were brought golden
+      dreams, to the weary rest. Sighing and sorrowful, he turned from those
+      with a sad face whose conscience banished repose, and, ah! their number
+      was legion. To the wakeful and blissful he smilingly glanced, breathing a
+      prayer and a blessing; but these were few and far between&mdash;for
+      happiness is a rare guest, and tarries with mortals but fitfully. As he
+      glided past the joyful couple who, with watchful love and grateful hearts,
+      sat in the carriage rolling over the silent, deserted highway, two tears
+      fell from his eyes, and his starry wings were wider outspread to rush more
+      quickly past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look, my dear Marie, two stars just fell from heaven. They are a greeting
+      to you, loved one, and they would say they guide us on our way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Philip, it is a sign of ill-luck! Falling stars betoken misfortune!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She clung closer to his side, and laid her head upon his shoulder. He
+      pressed her more lovingly to his heart. &ldquo;Do not fear, dear Marie;
+      separation only could cause us unhappiness&mdash;we have long borne it,
+      and now it is forever past. You have given yourself to me for my own, and
+      I am yours, heart and soul; we speed on through the night to the morning
+      of the bright, sunny future, never more to be parted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never!&rdquo; she fervently murmured. &ldquo;Oh, may God hear our prayer. Never,
+      never to part! Yet, while the word falls from my lips, a shudder creeps
+      through my soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wherefore this despair, dearest? Reflect, no one will be apprised of our
+      flight till early morning, and then they will not know whither we have
+      fled. Meanwhile we rush on to Hamburg, where a packet-ship sails every
+      Wednesday for England; arriving there, we will first go to Suffolk, to my
+      old friend the vicar of Tunningham. I was his guest many weeks last year,
+      and he often related to me the privilege which had been conferred on the
+      parish church for a long time to perform valid marriages for those to
+      whose union there were obstacles interposed elsewhere. He will bless the
+      union of our love, and will accord me the lawful right to call you my own
+      before God and man. We will not return at once to Germany. I have many
+      connections and literary friends in London, who will assist me to worthy
+      occupation. Besides, I closed an agreement some weeks since with the
+      publisher Nicolai in Berlin for a new work. I will write it in London; it
+      will be none the less favored coming from a distance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My flowers and paintings will also be as well received in as in Berlin,&rdquo;
+       added Marie, smilingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Marie, you shall not work. I shall have the precious care of
+      providing for you, which will be my pride and happiness. Oh, my beloved,
+      what a crowning bliss to possess a sweet, dear wife, who is only rich in
+      imperishable treasures, and poor in external riches! What delight to toil
+      for her, and feel that there lives in my intellect the power to grant her
+      every wish, and to compensate her in the slightest degree the boundless
+      wealth of her affection! To a loving mind there is no prouder, happier
+      feeling than to be the only source of support to the wife of his love&mdash;to
+      know that she looks to him for the fulfilment of her slightest wish in
+      life. I thank my Maker that you are poor, Marie, and that I am permitted
+      to toil for you. How else could I reward you for all you have sacrificed
+      for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot suppose, dear Philip, that the riches of my obtrusive lover
+      would have been any attraction to me. Money could never compensate for the
+      loss of your love. You are my life, and from you alone can I receive
+      happiness or unhappiness. At your side I am rich and joyous, though we may
+      outwardly need; without you I should be poor with superfluity. I am proud
+      that we in spirit have freed ourselves from those fictitious externals
+      with which the foolish burden themselves. Oh, my beloved Philip, my whole
+      soul is exultant that we are never more to part&mdash;no, not even in
+      eternity, for I believe that love is an undying sentiment, and the soul
+      can never be darkened by death which is beaming with affection.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, Marie, love is the immortality of the soul; through it man
+      is regenerated and soars to the regions of eternal light. When I recall
+      how desolate and gloomy was my life, how joyless the days dragged on
+      before I loved you, I almost menaced Heaven that it created me to wander
+      alone through this desert. The brightest sun&rsquo;s rays now gild my future,
+      and it seems as if we were alone in paradise, and that the creation entire
+      glorified my happiness, and all the voices of Nature shouted a greeting to
+      you, dearest. Oh, Marie, if I lived a thousand years, my heart would
+      retain its youthful love and adoration for you, who have saved me from
+      myself, have freed my soul from the constraining fetters of a sad, joyless
+      existence. Repose your head upon my heart, and may it rest there many
+      happy years, and receive in this hour my oath to love, esteem, and honor
+      you as my most precious treasure! You shall be wife, child, sister, and
+      friend. My soul shall be frank and open to you; for you I will strive and
+      toil, and will cherish and foster the happiness received from you as my
+      most treasured gift. Give me your hand, Marie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laid it within his own strong, manly hand, gently pressing it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The large full moon, high above them, lighted up these noble faces, making
+      the eyes, which were bent upon each other, more radiant. Swiftly the
+      carriage rolled on, the night-breeze fanning their cheeks and waving back
+      their raven curls.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Moritz raised their clasped hands, and gazed at the starry heaven.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We lift them up unto Thee, O God. Thou hast heard my oath, O Eternal
+      Spirit, who dwellest among the stars; receive it, and bless the woman I
+      love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Receive also my oath, O my Maker. Regard the man to whom I have sworn
+      eternal fidelity, bless him, and bless me. Let us live in love and die in
+      constancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Moritz responded, &ldquo;Amen, my beloved, amen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They embraced each other fervently. Onward rolled the carriage through the
+      tranquil, blissful night. Oh why cannot these steeds borrow wings from the
+      night-wind? Why cannot the soaring spirit bear aloft its earthly tenement?
+      With divine joy and heavenly confidence you gaze at the stars. You
+      smilingly interchange thoughts of the blissful future, whilst dire
+      misfortune approaches, and will soon seize you in its poisonous grasp! Do
+      you not hear it? Does not the echo of swift-prancing steeds ring in your
+      ears? Do you not hear the shrieking and calling after you?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They listen only to the voice of tenderness speaking in their hearts, and
+      would that the solemn quiet of this dialogue might not be broken by a loud
+      word from their lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The post-horn sounded! They halted at a lonely house near the highway. It
+      is the station. Change horses! There is not a light to be seen. Three
+      times the postilion blew a pealing blast ere they could awake the inmates.
+      The window was at last opened, and a sleepy, complaining voice questioned
+      the number of horses and the distance of the next post.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly they were brought forward, and still more slowly were they attached
+      to the carriage, and all arranged. What matters it? The night is lovely,
+      and like a dream it seems to remain under the starry heavens, spread out
+      like a canopy above them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Does not your heart tell you that sorrow strides on like the storm? Do you
+      not hear the voices still shrieking after you?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The postilion mounted his horse, and again the trumpet pealed forth its
+      merry air, and was answered with a shout of triumph from the swift
+      pursuers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie raised her head from Philip&rsquo;s shoulder. &ldquo;What was it? Did you not
+      hear it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, my beloved, what should I hear? Do the stars salute you? Do the
+      angels greet their sister upon earth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hark! there it is again! Do you not hear it? Listen! does it not seem as
+      if one called &lsquo;Halt! halt!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, truly, I hear it now also! What can happen, love? Why trouble
+      ourselves about the outer world and the existence of other beings?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know not, but I am so anxious, my heart almost ceases to beat, with
+      terror!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Halt! halt!&rdquo; the wind carries forward the shriek, and above their heads
+      it sounds like the screeching of ravens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Strange! For whom are they calling?&rdquo; Moritz looked back along the
+      highway. White and clear it lay in the moonlight, but, far in the distance
+      was a black mass, taking form and shape at every moment!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Horsemen! horsemen! in full speed they come!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Postilion! drive on! quick! Let the horses gallop! There is a forest near&mdash;drive
+      us to that, that we may hide ourselves in the thicket! Onward, postilion!
+      we are not thieves or murderers. A hundred thalers are yours, if you save
+      us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The postilion beat his horses! In full chase they followed&mdash;more and
+      more distinctly were heard the curses and yells.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, God in heaven, have mercy upon us in our need!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faster, postilion!&mdash;in mercy, faster!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Halt! halt!&mdash;in the name of the king, halt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This startled the postilion, and he turned to listen, and again a furious
+      voice yelled, &ldquo;In the name of the king, halt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The postilion drew up. &ldquo;Forgive me, sir, but I must respect the name of
+      the king.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Forward galloped the horsemen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Philip,&rdquo; whispered Marie, &ldquo;why do we live&mdash;why do we not die?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He folded her in his arms, and passionately kissed her, perhaps for the
+      last time. &ldquo;Marie, be mindful of our oath&mdash;constant unto death!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Constant unto death!&rdquo; she repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be firm and defy all the storms of life!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie repeated it, with heightened courage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The horsemen surrounded the carriage, the riders upon panting steeds! Two
+      officers in uniform sprang to the side, laying their hands upon Moritz&rsquo;s
+      shoulder. &ldquo;Conrector Philip Moritz, we arrest you in the name of the king!
+      You are accused of eloping with a minor, and we are commanded to transport
+      you to Spandau until further orders!&rdquo; Upon the other side two other
+      horsemen halted. The foremost was Herr Ebenstreit, who laid his hand upon
+      Marie, and saw not or cared not that she shudderingly shrank away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Marie, I come as the ambassador of your parents, and am fully
+      empowered to lead your back to your father&rsquo;s house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She answered not, but sat immovable and benumbed with terror, the tears
+      rolling down her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You arrest me in the name of the king,&rdquo; cried Moritz; &ldquo;I bow to the law.
+      I beg only to speak to that man,&rdquo; pointing to Ebenstreit, with contempt.
+      &ldquo;Sir, dismount, I have important business with you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have nothing to say to each other,&rdquo; answered Ebenstreit, calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I!&rdquo; cried Moritz, springing forward, furious as a lion, &ldquo;I have
+      something to say to you, you rascal, and I will treat you accordingly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He savagely tore the whip from the postilion&rsquo;s hand, and struck Ebenstreit
+      in the face. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; cried he, triumphantly, &ldquo;I have forced you to give me
+      satisfaction!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The police swung themselves from their saddles, and Leberecht quickly
+      dismounted. They clinched Moritz by the feet and hands. It was a desperate
+      struggle, and Marie gazed at them with folded hands, praying without
+      words. They seized him and held him fast with manacles. A shriek, and
+      Marie sank fainting. Moritz&rsquo;s head sank upon his breast, almost in the
+      agony of death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take him to the next station, my friends,&rdquo; commanded Ebenstreit, &ldquo;the
+      carriage is already ordered to remove him to Spandau.&rdquo; He dismounted, and
+      now took the place by Marie, who still lay in a dead faint. &ldquo;Postilion,
+      mount and turn your carriage, I retain you until the next station. If you
+      drive quickly, there is a louis d&rsquo;or for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will drive as if the devil were after me, sir!&rdquo; shouted the postilion,
+      and turned to gallop off, when Ebenstreit ordered him to halt, and
+      Leberecht to get up on the box. Then turning to the officers, &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo;
+       said he, proudly, &ldquo;you are witnesses to the ill-treatment and insults of
+      this woman-stealer. You will certify that the blood flowed down my face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will myself make it known before all men,&rdquo; cried Moritz, with a
+      contemptuous laugh. &ldquo;I have insulted you and branded you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will give our evidence,&rdquo; respectfully replied the officers. &ldquo;As soon
+      as we have delivered our prisoner at Spandau, we will announce ourselves
+      to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you will receive from me the promised reward of a hundred thalers.
+      If you hush up the entire adventure, so that it is not noised about, after
+      three months, still another hundred.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will be silent, Herr Ebenstreit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you; a hundred thalers is a pretty sum. Forward, Leberecht,
+      make the postilion push on, that we may arrive in Berlin before daybreak,
+      and no one know of this abominable affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The postilion laughed with delight, at the thought of the louis d&rsquo;or. Upon
+      the box sat Leberecht, a smile of malicious triumph upon his face. &ldquo;This
+      has been a lucky night,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;we have all done a good business, but I
+      am the most fortunate, with my three thousand thalers and a fine place. I
+      wish he had waited an hour later, and then I should have had another
+      thousand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit sat with triumphant smile also, by his betrothed. &ldquo;Money is the
+      king of the world&mdash;with it one can accomplish all things,&rdquo; said he to
+      himself; &ldquo;if I had been a poor fellow, the general would not have chosen
+      me, nor the king have given me a title, nor could I have won back my
+      beautiful bride. Money gives position, and I hope will give me the power
+      to revenge myself for the pain in my face.&rdquo; He turned menacingly toward
+      Moritz, who saw it not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With bowed head, speechless, as if numb with the horror of his misfortune,
+      he rode with fettered hands between the two officers, incapable of
+      fleeing, as they had even bound a cord around his arms, each end held fast
+      by one of the riders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The stars and the moon shone down upon him as brightly beautiful as an
+      hour previous. Oh, Marie, you were right, falling stars betoken
+      misfortune! Your star has fallen!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII. THE SACRIFICE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Since that painful night, four weeks had passed, four long ones to poor
+      old Trude. To her beloved child they had fled in happy unconsciousness. In
+      the delirium of fever, her thoughts wandered to her lover, always dwelling
+      upon her hopes and happiness. In the intervals of reason she asked for him
+      with fearful excitement and anxiety, then again her mind was clouded, and
+      the cry of anguish was changed into a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then came the days of convalescence and the return to consciousness, and
+      with it the mourning over crushed hopes. Slowly had Trude, the faithful
+      nurse, who watched by her bedside day and night, answered her excited
+      questions, and to her little by little the circumstances of the elopement&mdash;how
+      Leberecht had played the eavesdropper and sold Marie&rsquo;s secret for gold;
+      how he had previously arranged to pursue them, informing the police,
+      ordering the horses, and sending forward a courier to provide fresh relays
+      at every station.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude depicted the anger of her father and the threats of her mother to
+      send her to prison. But before she could execute her purpose, Ebenstreit
+      had brought home the unconscious child, and she herself had lifted her
+      from the carriage and borne her, with the aid of her mistress, to her own
+      little attic room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie listened to these relations with a gloomy calmness and a defiant
+      sorrow. Illness had wrought a peculiar change in her mind, and hardened
+      the gentle, tender feelings of the young girl. Grief had steeled her soul,
+      benumbed her heart, and she had risen from her couch as one born anew to
+      grief and torture. Her present situation and lost happiness had changed
+      the young, loving, tenderly-sensitive maiden to the courageous, energetic,
+      and defiant woman, who recognized a future of self-renunciation, combat,
+      and resignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude observed these changes with disquietude and care. She wished Marie
+      would only once complain, or burst into tears. After the first storm of
+      despair had passed, the tears refused to flow, and her eyes were bright
+      and undimmed. Only once had profound emotion been awakened, as Trude asked
+      her if she had forgotten her unhappy lover, and cared no more to learn his
+      fate. It had the desired effect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A deathly paleness overspread her delicate, transparent cheek. &ldquo;I know how
+      he is,&rdquo; she said, turning away her face, &ldquo;I realize his sufferings by my
+      own. We are miserable, lost&mdash;and no hope but in death. Ere this
+      comes, there is a desert to traverse in heat, and dust, and storm, and
+      frost, alone, without consolation or support. Hush, Trude! do not seek to
+      revive miserable hopes. I know my fate, and I will endure it. Tell me what
+      you know about him? Where is he? Have they accused him? Speak! do not fear
+      to tell me every thing!&rdquo; But fearing herself, she threw her handkerchief
+      quickly over her face, and sat with it covered whilst Trude spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know but little of poor, dear Moritz. He has never returned to his
+      lodgings. A day or two after that night, two officers sealed his effects,
+      and took away his clothes. His hostess has not the least suspicion of the
+      mysterious disappearance of her otherwise quiet, regular lodger. The
+      secret of the elopement has been carefully guarded, as no one of the
+      neighbors know it, and there is no gossip about you and Moritz. Those who
+      think he is travelling are not surprised at his having left without taking
+      leave, as they say he was accustomed to do so. But,&rdquo; continued Trude, in a
+      lower tone, &ldquo;Herr Gedicke looked very sad and grave, as I asked for the
+      Conrector Moritz. &lsquo;He has disappeared,&rsquo; he sighed, &lsquo;and I know not if we
+      shall ever see him again.&rsquo; &lsquo;Oh, Jemima!&rsquo; I screamed, &lsquo;you do not think
+      that he has committed a self-injury!&rsquo; &lsquo;No,&rsquo; said the director, &lsquo;not he
+      himself, he is too honorable a man. Others have ill-treated him and made
+      him unhappy for life.&rsquo; It was in vain to ask further; he knew not or he
+      would not say any thing. I believe your family know where poor Moritz is,
+      for your mother speaks of him as one in the penitentiary, and quite
+      triumphantly she told me yesterday that the king, in his new book of laws,
+      had expressly condemned the person who elopes with a minor to be sent to
+      the house of correction for ten years, and then she laughed so cruelly,
+      that I trembled to hear her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Trude related this, she searchingly glanced at Marie to observe the
+      effect of her words, hoping to see her weep or complain and that, at last,
+      grief would melt the icy crust around her heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Marie sat motionless and without uttering a sound&mdash;not a sigh or
+      a moan escaped her. After a long silence, when her grief was too deep for
+      tears, she drew the handkerchief from her face, the pallor and rigidity of
+      which startled Trude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She sprang forward, folding her in her arms. &ldquo;Marie, child of my heart, do
+      weep, do complain! I know that he loved you dearly, and deserves that you
+      should mourn for him. Have you no more confidence, though, in your old
+      Trude? Is she no longer worthy to share your grief?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie laid her languid head upon the bosom of her faithful nurse; a
+      long-drawn, piercing cry of anguish was her response, she trembled
+      violently, and the tears ran down her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude raised her eyes to heaven, murmuring, &ldquo;I thank thee, O Lord! Her
+      heart is not dead! It lives, for it suffers!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It suffers,&rdquo; groaned Marie, &ldquo;the anguish of death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This passionate outburst of feeling was of but short duration. Her tears
+      were dried, and her quivering face assumed its usually calm expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trude,&rdquo; said she, gently, continuing to repose upon her bosom, &ldquo;I am so
+      wretched that words cannot express it or tears soothe it. If I should give
+      myself up to sorrow and mourning I should die, and that cannot be, for I
+      must live to wait for him&mdash;to rescue him. How I know not yet; my
+      thoughts and resolutions are so confused that they flicker like the ignes
+      fatui. I will force my mind to be calm, and these wandering lights shall
+      unite in one glowing flame to destroy the walls and obstructions which
+      confine him. He is a prisoner; I feel it in my heart, and I must live to
+      free him. This is my task, and I will accomplish it; therefore I would be
+      composed, and strong in myself. Wonder not that I weep or complain no
+      more, and do not refer to my misfortune. I should die if I did not
+      suppress this anguish, and I would become strong and active. Seek not to
+      enfeeble me, but aid me to harden myself; refrain from complaint, that I
+      may be silent. I think only of him, and I ask nothing further than to
+      yield my life to free him. Let us never speak of it again, for I feel that
+      all the firmness which I had gained has been swept from me in this giving
+      way, and that I must begin anew.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From this hour she commenced to build, and rose upon her grief as on a
+      column which projects toward heaven; leaned upon it, and received, as
+      Brisaeus from the earth, the power of life and action. She had already so
+      conquered herself as to be able to leave her own quiet room, and descend
+      to that of her parents. There she would sit calmly for hours, listening
+      attentively to the conversation, hoping to catch some word that might give
+      her a clew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They avoided every exciting topic, and were milder and more thoughtful for
+      her. Even her mother made no reproaches, and never alluded to the past,
+      because she feared to delay her recovery, and remove the longed-for goal
+      in hindering the marriage with Ebenstreit. The latter carefully avoided
+      troubling her by his presence; when he heard Marie&rsquo;s step in the anteroom,
+      who descended at a certain hour every day, he withdrew by the other
+      entrance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who goes out every time I come in?&rdquo; asked Marie, one day as she appeared
+      in the sitting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The general coughed with embarrassment, and glanced anxiously at his wife,
+      whose eyes rested upon her daughter with a cold, searching expression.
+      Their eyes met, and were riveted upon each other. A cold, cruel smile
+      played around the thin, bloodless lips of the mother as she recognized the
+      defiance and firmness in her child, and felt that she had recovered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is your betrothed,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;our dear Ebenstreit&mdash;a good,
+      generous, and self-sacrificing son, for whom we thank God every day, who
+      wishes to spare you the annoyance of seeing him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He need not inconvenience himself on my account. Nothing excites or
+      wounds my feelings now. It would be a pity for your heartless, thankless
+      daughter to deprive you of the society of your dear son. Let him remain;
+      it is not necessary for us to notice one another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her parents regarded each other astonished, and, as she ceased, they still
+      listened to the dying tones of her voice, which sounded so strangely to
+      them. &ldquo;She is much changed,&rdquo; mumbled the general to himself. &ldquo;She does not
+      seem the same person, she is so haughty and majestic. She might well
+      inspire fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The following day, as Marie entered the room, Ebenstreit was there. He
+      approached her, extending both hands smiling, and greeting her with tender
+      words, rejoicing at her recovery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took no notice of his friendly demonstrations, but coldly and harshly
+      regarded his smiling face, and particularly the broad, blood-red scar
+      which ran from forehead to chin. Then suddenly her face lighted up, and an
+      expression of savage triumph shot from her eyes. &ldquo;How disfigured you
+      look,&rdquo; she cried exultingly. &ldquo;Where did you get that scar?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know well, Marie,&rdquo; he murmured, gloomily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she cried, triumphantly. &ldquo;I know it. He branded you, and you will
+      wear this mark before God and man as long as you live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very cruel to remind me of it, Marie,&rdquo; he softly whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed aloud so wild and savagely, that even her mother was startled.
+      &ldquo;Cruel&mdash;I cruel!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Ah, sir, it becomes you indeed to
+      accuse me of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude entered at this instant, pale and excited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is some one here who wishes to speak with you, Marie; he has
+      something very important to tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How dare you announce any one without my permission?&rdquo; cried Frau von
+      Werrig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence, mother!&mdash;if I may be allowed, let us hear who it is.&mdash;Speak,
+      dear Trude, who is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the Director Gedicke from the Gray Cloister,&rdquo; said Trude, with
+      quivering voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie was startled&mdash;a glowing red overspread her cheeks, and she was
+      obliged to lean against a chair for support.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forbid you to receive him,&rdquo; said her mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She suddenly ceased, and stared at the door, which opened at that moment,
+      the tall, dignified form of a venerable old man appearing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, sir,&rdquo; said he, with a cold, reserved manner, &ldquo;if I enter
+      before I receive permission. The command of the king, to which I believe
+      we all yield without resistance, empowers me to do so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How, sir, you come by the king&rsquo;s order?&rdquo; asked the general, who rose with
+      difficulty. &ldquo;Has his majesty given you a message for General von Leuthen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, general, I come with a communication from his majesty to Fraulein von
+      Leuthen, the betrothed of Herr Ebenstreit, and the order runs to deliver
+      the same personally and without witnesses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Professor,&rdquo; cried the mother, shrugging her shoulders, &ldquo;you mistake us
+      for very innocent people, if you suppose we believe this silly invention,
+      and that you can gain a secret conversation by a ruse with our daughter.
+      You are the director of the gymnasium, and naturally the friend of
+      Conrector Moritz. In his name you will speak, and bring a secret message.
+      Very sly, indeed, very sly, but it will not succeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For response, the director drew two large folded documents from his
+      pocket, approaching the general. &ldquo;Do you recognize this seal?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; solemnly answered the general; &ldquo;it is the royal seal from the
+      king&rsquo;s private cabinet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read the address upon this, and the unopened letter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Truly, the latter is directed to my daughter, and the other to Professor
+      Gedicke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr Gedicke opened the letter, asking the general if he could recognize
+      the king&rsquo;s handwriting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;I know it well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have the goodness to read the lines upon the margin,&rdquo; mid the professor,
+      unfolding the letter, so that he could only read those referred to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The general read: &ldquo;Professor Gedicke shall go himself to Fraulein von
+      Leuthen, and bring her to reason, reading the document to her without
+      witnesses. I wish this affair to come to an end. Teach Mamselle mores!
+      mores! mores! FREDERICK.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have heard the royal command, ladies and gentlemen; will you respect
+      it?&rdquo; said the professor, turning around with an air of proud satisfaction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear son-in-law,&rdquo; said the general, solemnly, &ldquo;it is a royal command;
+      give me your arm, as you know I am feeble; and you, my wife, take my other
+      arm, and we will go into the next room. Hush! not a word&mdash;we have
+      only to obey, and not reason.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He seized his wife&rsquo;s hand hastily and firmly, that she should not slip
+      away, and winked to Ebenstreit, upon whose support he crossed the room,
+      drawing his wife with him, and pushing open the door of the next with his
+      foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie had stood during the whole transaction pale and rigid in the centre
+      of the room, looking haughty and defiant as long as her parents and Herr
+      Ebenstreit were present. Now, as the door closed, life and action were
+      visible in this marble form; she rushed to the old gentleman, scarce
+      respiring, and looking up at his dignified, sad face, asked: &ldquo;Is he
+      living? Tell me only this, or is he ill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he lives, he does not suffer from bodily ills, but the sickness of
+      the soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do not I also?&rdquo; asked she, with quivering voice. &ldquo;Oh! I know what he
+      suffers, as we are wretched from the same cause. But tell me, have you
+      seen him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Fraulein, I have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he? Where did you see him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In prison!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie grew paler, and retreated, shuddering. The director continued: &ldquo;In a
+      dark, damp prison at Spandau. The poor fellow has been there for two
+      months without air, light, or occupation, and his only society is his own
+      revengeful thoughts and angry love-complaints.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie gave one hollow moan, covering her corpse-like face with her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In this abode of torture, in this dwelling of the damned, he must remain
+      ten long years, if death does not release him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you say?&rdquo; she groaned. &ldquo;Ten long years? Have they condemned
+      him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he was guilty of a great crime&mdash;eloping with a minor&mdash;who,
+      with the king&rsquo;s consent, and that of her parents, was betrothed to
+      another. Read the sentence of the court, which was forwarded to me as the
+      head of the college where Moritz was employed. See, here is the king&rsquo;s
+      signature, which affirms the sentence, rendering it legal, and here upon
+      the margin are the lines your father read.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Trembling, Marie perused the contents. &ldquo;Ten years in the house of
+      correction!&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;On my account condemned to a living death! No,
+      no, it is impossible! It cannot be! Ten years of the best part of life! He
+      condemned as a criminal! I will go to the king. I will throw myself at his
+      feet, imploring for mercy. I am the guilty one&mdash;I alone! They should
+      judge me, and send me to the penitentiary! I will go to the king! He must
+      and will hear me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will not,&rdquo; sighed the director. &ldquo;Listen to me, poor child! As I heard
+      the sentence, I felt it my duty to summon all my powers to rescue Moritz,
+      for I love him as a son, and had set my hopes upon him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you for this kind word,&rdquo; said Marie, seizing the hand of the old
+      man, and pressing it to her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went immediately to Minister von Herzberg, and, upon his advice, as he
+      explained to me the king might lighten his punishment, I betook myself to
+      Frederick&rsquo;s winter-quarters at Breslau.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You noble, generous man, I shall love you for it as long as I live. Did
+      you speak with the king?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and every thing that my heart or mind could inspire, to excuse and
+      justify my unhappy friend, I have said&mdash;but all in vain. The king was
+      much embittered, because he had had the grace to grant him an audience,
+      and explain the impossibility of the fulfilment of his petition. I did not
+      cease begging and imploring, until I softened the generous heart of the
+      king.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has he pardoned Moritz?&rdquo; Marie asked, with brightening hopes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Under certain conditions he will allow that he should escape secretly
+      from prison. They are formally written, and if Moritz consents and binds
+      himself by oath, he will not only be freed, but provided with means to go
+      to England, and receive immediately an appointment as translator to the
+      Prussian embassy at London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are the conditions, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are, first, that Moritz shall by oath renounce every wish and
+      thought of uniting himself with Fraulein von Leuthen; secondly, that
+      before he leaves the prison, he shall write to the young lady, in which he
+      shall solemnly release her, and enjoin it upon her as a duty to accept the
+      hand of the man to whom her parents have betrothed her. These were the
+      conditions, and the king commanded me to go to Spandau, and with sensible
+      representations, to confer with Moritz, and persuade him to accept them,
+      and assure himself of freedom, and an honorable future, free from care.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You saw Moritz?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you communicate the conditions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He refused, with rage and indignation!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He refused?&rdquo; cried Marie, joyfully. &ldquo;Oh, my dear Philip, I thank you. You
+      love me truly and faithfully. Your glorious example shall inspire me to be
+      as firm as you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unhappy child, you know not what you are saying!&rdquo; cried the director,
+      sadly. &ldquo;If you really love him, you could not follow his example. Read
+      what the king has written.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took, in breathless silence, the document, and broke the seal,
+      unfolding the paper, but her hand shook it so violently, that she could
+      not distinguish the words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She returned it to the director. &ldquo;Read it, I cannot,&rdquo; she said, and sank
+      kneeling, looking up to the old man with unspeakable anguish, and
+      listening to every word that fell from his lips. It ran thus:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His majesty announces to Mademoiselle Marie von Leuthen that he is
+      exceedingly indignant at her improper and undutiful conduct, which does
+      not at all become a maiden loving of honor, and particularly a noble one.
+      His majesty ennobled her father for a brave deed, and he is angry that the
+      daughter should bring shame upon the title, in giving way, not only to a
+      passion which is beneath her, but is so little mindful of morality as to
+      flee from the paternal house, at night, in an improper manner, with a man
+      whose wife, according to the command of the king and the will of her
+      father, she could never be. If his majesty did not respect the former
+      service of her father, and the new title, he would send the daughter to
+      the house of correction, and punish her according to the law. But he will
+      leave her to the reproaches of conscience, and let the weight of the law
+      fall upon her partner in guilt, Philip Moritz. He is rightly sentenced to
+      ten years in the house of correction, and he will not be released one year
+      or one day from the same, as he is guilty of a great crime, and his
+      sentence is just.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just!&rdquo; shrieked Marie, in anguish&mdash;&ldquo;ten years just?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The director continued to read: &ldquo;His majesty will propose a last
+      opportunity to the obstinate and inconsiderate young lady to reinstate her
+      own honor, and release at the same time Conrector Moritz. His majesty has
+      personal knowledge of the latter, and respects his scholarly attainments
+      and capability and would bring an end to this affair for the general good.
+      If mademoiselle, as becomes an honorable young woman, and an obedient
+      daughter, follows the wishes of her father, and without delay marries Herr
+      Ebenstreit, and leads a respectable life with him, the same hour of the
+      ceremony Conrector Moritz shall be released, and a fit position be created
+      for him. This is the final decision of the king. If the daughter does not
+      submit in perfect obedience, she will burden her conscience with a great
+      crime, and thank herself for Moritz&rsquo;s unfortunate fate. His majesty will
+      be immediately informed of her decision. If she listens to reason, to
+      morality, and affection, she will submit to the proposition which Director
+      Gedicke is commissioned to make known to her, and announce to her parents
+      in his presence that she will obediently follow their commands, Conrector
+      Moritz will be at once set at liberty; otherwise he will be sent to
+      Brandenburg to the house of correction. This is the unalterable will of
+      the king. Signed, in the name of the king, FREDERICK.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now decide, my child,&rdquo; continued the director, after a solemn pause. &ldquo;I
+      know nothing to add to this royal writing. If it has not itself spoken to
+      your heart, your reason and your honor, words are useless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O God, it is cruel&mdash;it is terrible!&rdquo; cried Marie. &ldquo;Shall I break my
+      oath of constancy, becoming faithless, and suffer him to curse me, for he
+      will never pardon me, but despise me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sprang up like a tigress, with her eyes flashing. &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; cried she, &ldquo;he
+      may even believe that I have been enticed by riches, by a brilliant
+      future! No&mdash;no! I cannot consent! May God have mercy on me if the
+      king will not! I will not break my oath! No one but Moritz shall ever be
+      my husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unhappy girl,&rdquo; cried the old man, sadly, &ldquo;I will give you one last
+      inducement. I know not whether you have any knowledge of Moritz&rsquo;s past
+      life, so tried and painful, which has made him easily excited and
+      eccentric. A danger menaces him worse than imprisonment or death. His
+      unaccustomed life, and the solitude of his dark, damp prison, is causing a
+      fearful excitement in him. He is habituated to intellectual occupation.
+      When he is obliged to put on the prisoner&rsquo;s jacket in the house of
+      correction and spin wool, it will not kill him&mdash;it will make him
+      mad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A piercing cry was Marie&rsquo;s answer. &ldquo;That is not true&mdash;it is
+      impossible. He crazy!&mdash;you only say that to compel me to do what you
+      will. His bright mind could not be obscured through the severest proofs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not believe me? You think that an old man, with gray hair, and one
+      foot in the grave, and who loves Moritz, could tell you a shameful
+      untruth! I swear to you by the heads of my children, by all that is holy,
+      that Moritz already suffers from an excitement of the brain; and if he
+      does not soon have liberty and mental occupation, it is almost certain
+      that he will become insane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost convulsed with anguish, Marie seized the old man&rsquo;s hand with fierce
+      passion. &ldquo;He shall not be crazed,&rdquo; she shrieked. &ldquo;He shall not suffer&mdash;he
+      shall not be imprisoned and buried in the house of correction on my
+      account. I will rescue him&mdash;I and my love! I am prepared to do what
+      the king commands! I will&mdash;marry the man&mdash;which&mdash;my parents
+      have chosen. But&mdash;tell me, will he then be free?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-day even&mdash;in three hours, my poor child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Free! And I shall have saved him! Tell me what I have to do. What is the
+      king&rsquo;s will?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First sign this document,&rdquo; said the director, as he drew a second paper.
+      &ldquo;It runs thus: &lsquo;I, Marie von Leuthen, that of my own free will and consent
+      I will renounce every other engagement, and will marry Herr Ebenstreit von
+      Leuthen, and be a faithful wife to him. I witness with my signature the
+      same.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it to me quickly,&rdquo; she gasped. &ldquo;I will sign it! He must be free! He
+      shall not go mad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rapidly signed the paper. &ldquo;Here is my sentence of death! But he will
+      live! Take it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My child,&rdquo; cried the old man, deeply agitated, &ldquo;God will be mindful of
+      this sacrifice, and in the hour of death it will beam brightly upon you.
+      You have by this act rescued a noble and excellent being, and when he wins
+      fame from science and art he will owe to you alone the gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He shall not thank me!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;He shall live and&mdash;if he can
+      be happy!&mdash;this is all that I ask for! What is there further to be
+      done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To announce to your parents in my presence that you will marry Herr
+      Ebenstreit, and let the ceremony take place as soon as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You swear that he shall then be released? You are an old man&mdash;reflect
+      well; you swear to me that as soon as the marriage takes place, Philip
+      Moritz will be free this very day and that he will be reinstated in an
+      honorable, active occupation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear it to you upon my word of honor, by my hope of reward from
+      above.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you. Call my parents. But first&mdash;you are a father, and
+      love your children well. I have never had a father who loved me, or ever
+      laid his hand upon my head to bless me. You say that you love Moritz as a
+      son! Oh, love me for a moment as your daughter, and bless me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man folded her in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. &ldquo;God
+      bless you, my daughter, as I bless you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare not tarry,&rdquo; she shuddered. &ldquo;Let my parents enter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly the venerable man traversed the room. Marie pressed her hands to
+      her heart, looking to heaven. As the door opened, and the general entered,
+      leaning upon Ebenstreit&rsquo;s arm, followed by his wife, Marie approached them
+      with a haughty, determined manner, who regarded her with astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; she said, slowly and calmly, &ldquo;I am ready to follow your wishes.
+      Send for the clergyman: I consent to marry this man to-day, upon one
+      condition.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make it known, my dear Marie. Name your condition. I will joyfully fulfil
+      it,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I demand that we leave to-day for the East, to go to Egypt&mdash;Palestine&mdash;and
+      remain away from this place for years. Are you agreed to it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To all that which my dear Marie wishes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can now weave the bridal-wreath in my hair, mother. I consent to the
+      marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Three hours later the preparations were completed. Every thing had awaited
+      this for three months.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sitting-room, the decorators had quickly built a marriage-altar,
+      and ornamented the walls with garlands of flowers, with festoons of gauze
+      and silk, with flags and standards. The mother wore the costly silk which
+      her rich son-in-law had honored her with for the occasion, and also
+      adorned herself with the gold ornaments which were equally his gift. The
+      father wore his gold-embroidered uniform, and imagined himself a stately
+      figure, as the gout left him the use of his limbs this day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The invited witnesses began to assemble. Just then Ebenstreit von Leuthen
+      drove up in the handsome travelling-carriage, which was a wedding-gift to
+      his wife, and excited the admiration of the numerous street public.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Trude, in her simple dark Sunday dress, had awaited the appearance of
+      the bridegroom, and went to announce his arrival to the bride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie was in her little garret-room, so unlike in its present appearance
+      to its former simplicity and comfort&mdash;as unlike as the occupant to
+      the rosy, smiling young girl, who, yonder by the little brown table in the
+      window-niche, taught her pupils, or with busy, skilful hands made the
+      loveliest flowers, the income of which she gave to her parents, joyfully
+      and although she never received thanks or recognition for the same. Now
+      the same little table was covered with morocco cases, whose half-open
+      covers revealed brilliant ornaments, laces, and sweet perfumes; superb
+      silk dresses, cloaks, and shawls, ornamented with lace, lay about upon the
+      bed and chairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen had truly given his bride a princely dowry,
+      and her mother had spread the things around room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Since Marie gave her consent to the marriage, she had followed out their
+      wishes without opposition. She wore a white satin dress, covered with gold
+      lace, her arms, neck, and ears, adorned with diamonds. The coiffeur had
+      powdered and arranged her hair, without her ever casting a glance into the
+      Psyche-mirror which her betrothed had had the gallantry to send to her
+      room. She let him arrange the costly bridal veil; but when he would place
+      the crown of myrtle, she waved him back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your work is finished,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;my mother will place that, I thank
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Trude entered, Marie was standing in the centre of the room, regarding
+      it with sinister, angry looks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you are, Trude,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I am glad to see you a moment alone,
+      for I have something to tell you. I have spoken with my future husband,
+      demanding that you live with me as long as I live. Immediately after the
+      ceremony you will go to my future home and remain there as house-keeper
+      during my absence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sadly the old woman shook her head. &ldquo;No, that is too important a place for
+      me. I will not lead a lazy life, and play the fine woman. I was made to
+      work with my hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do what you will in the house,&rdquo; answered Marie. &ldquo;Only promise me that you
+      will not leave me, and when I return that I shall find you there. If you
+      leave me, I will never come back. Promise me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will promise you, my poor child,&rdquo; sighed Trude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie laughed scornfully. &ldquo;You call me poor&mdash;do you not see I am
+      rich? I carry a fortune about my neck. Go, do not bewail me&mdash;I am
+      rich!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie, do not laugh so, it makes me feel badly,&rdquo; whispered the old woman.
+      &ldquo;I came to tell you the bridegroom and the clergyman are there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The time has arrived for the marriage of the rich and happy bride. Go,
+      Trude, beg my mother to come up and adorn me with the myrtle-wreath.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Marie, can I not do it?&rdquo; asked Trude, with quivering voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not you; touch not the fatal wreath! You have no part in that! Call
+      my mother&mdash;it is time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude turned sadly toward the door, Marie glancing after her, and calling
+      her back with gentle tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trude, my dear, faithful mother, kiss me once more.&rdquo; She threw her arms
+      around Marie&rsquo;s neck and imprinted a loving kiss upon her forehead,
+      weeping. &ldquo;Now go, Trude&mdash;we must not give way; you know me; you well
+      understand my feelings, and see into my heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old woman went out, drying her eyes. Marie uttered her last farewell.
+      &ldquo;With you the past goes forth, with you my youth and hope! When the door
+      again opens, my future enters a strange, fearful life. Woe to those who
+      have prepared it for me&mdash;woe to those who have so cruelly treated me!
+      They will yet see what they have done. The good angel is extinct within
+      me. Wicked demons will now assume their over me. I will have no pity&mdash;I
+      will revenge myself; that I swear to Moritz!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her mother rustled in, clothed in her splendid wedding-garments. &ldquo;Did you
+      send for me, dear Marie?&rdquo; she whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, mother&mdash;I beg you to put on my myrtle-wreath.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How! have you no endearment for me?&rdquo; she asked, smilingly. &ldquo;Why do you
+      say &lsquo;you&rsquo; instead of &lsquo;thou?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is better so, mother,&rdquo; she coldly answered. &ldquo;Will you adorn me with
+      the bridal-wreath?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willingly, my dear child; it is very beautiful and becoming.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you realize, mother, what you are doing? You place the wreath to
+      consecrate me to an inconsolably unhappy life with the man that I hate and
+      despise!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear child, I know that you think so to-day; but you will soon change,
+      and find that wealth is a supportable misfortune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother, one day you will recall these words. Crown me for the hated
+      bridal. The sacrifice is prepared!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      BOOK IV. THE VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII. OLD FRITZ.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The war terminated, the hostile armies returned to their different German
+      countries. Frederick the Great had gained his point, forcing Austria to
+      renounce the possession of Bavaria. The Prince of Zweibruecken had been
+      solemnly recognized by him as the rightful heir to the electorate, and the
+      lawful ruler and possessor of Bavaria. The Emperor Joseph had submitted
+      with profound regret and bitter animosity to the will of his mother, the
+      reigning empress, and consented to the peace negotiations of Baron von
+      Thugut. Having signed the document of the same, in his quality of
+      co-regent, he angrily threw aside the pen, casting a furious glance at the
+      hard, impenetrable face of Thugut, saying: &ldquo;Tell her majesty that I have
+      accomplished my last act as co-regent, and I now abdicate. From henceforth
+      I will still lie her obedient son, but no submissive joint ruler, to only
+      follow devotedly her imperial will. Therefore I resign, and never will
+      trouble myself in future about the acts of the government.&rdquo; The emperor
+      kept his word. He retired, piqued, into solitude, wounded in the depths of
+      his soul, and afterward travelled, leaving the government entirely to the
+      empress and her pious confessors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bavaria was rescued! It owed its existence to the watchfulness, sagacity,
+      and disinterested aid of Prussia&rsquo;s great king. The Elector Maximilian
+      vowed in his delight that he, as well as his successors and heirs, would
+      never forget that Bavaria must ascribe its continuance to Prussia alone,
+      and therefore the gratitude of the princes of this electorate could not
+      and never would be extinguished toward the royal house of Prussia.
+      Frederick received these overflowing acknowledgments with the calmness of
+      a philosopher and the smile of a skeptic. He understood mankind
+      sufficiently to know what to expect from their oaths; to know that in the
+      course of time there is nothing more oppressive and intolerable than
+      gratitude, that it soon becomes a burden which they would gladly throw off
+      their bent shoulders at any price, and become the enemy of him to whom
+      they had sworn eternal thankfulness. Frederick regarded these oaths of
+      Bavaria not as a security for the future, but as a payment on account of
+      the past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not go forth to render the Bavarian princes indebted to me,&rdquo; said
+      he, to his only confidante, Count Herzberg, as he brought to him, at
+      Sans-Souci, the renewed expression of thanks of the prince elector. &ldquo;I
+      would only protect Germany against Austria&rsquo;s grasp, and preserve the
+      equilibrium of the German empire. Believe me, the house of Hapsburg is a
+      dangerous enemy for the little German principalities, and if my successor
+      does not bear it in mind, and guard himself against their flatteries and
+      cat&rsquo;s-paws, Austria will fleece him as the cat the mouse who is enticed by
+      the odor of the bacon. Prussia shall be neither a mouse in the German
+      empire, nor serve as a roast for Austria. But she shall be a well-trained
+      shepherd&rsquo;s dog for the dear, patient herd, and take care that none go
+      astray and are lost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty has drawn an unfortunate character for the future of our
+      country,&rdquo; sighed Herzberg, thoughtfully, &ldquo;and I must grant that it is
+      sketched with severe but correct outlines so it follows that poor Germany
+      has many combats and hardships in store.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; asked the king. &ldquo;What characteristic did I name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty pointed out Austria as the cat watching for prey in Germany.
+      Prussia, on the contrary, as the shepherd&rsquo;s dog, which should watch the
+      native herd, and occasionally bite those who wander from the flock. The
+      comparison is apt, and clearly exposes the natural hostility of the two
+      nations. Nature has placed the cat and the dog in eternal enmity, and
+      there is no compromise to be thought of, to say nothing of friendship.
+      There may, now and then, be a truce; the cat may draw in her claws, and
+      the dog may cease to howl and growl, but the combat will renew itself, and
+      never end, but in the death of one party, and the victorious triumph of
+      the other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; said the king, nodding slightly. &ldquo;From this natural
+      hostility will proceed many combats and storms for our land, and much
+      blood will be shed on its account. Let us look to the future, and try to
+      ward off the coming evil, in erecting high barriers against the cat-like
+      springs of the enemy. I will think out a security for Germany. But first,
+      mon cher ami, we have to care for our own country and people. The war has
+      greatly injured my poor subjects. Industry is prostrated and prosperity
+      disturbed. We must seek new sources of acquisition, and sustain those
+      which are exhausted. For this, we must think of fresh taxes, and other
+      sources of income.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; said Herzberg, shrugging his shoulders, &ldquo;the taxes are already so
+      heavy that it will be difficult to increase them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are greatly mistaken,&rdquo; cried the king, with increased animation. &ldquo;I
+      will impose a tax upon those things which are now exempt, and establish a
+      capable administration for the purpose. Bread, flour, meat, and beer, the
+      sustenance of the poor, shall remain as they are, for I will not that they
+      shall pay more. But tobacco, coffee, and tea, are superfluous things,
+      which the prosperous and rich consume. Whoever will smoke, and drink tea
+      or coffee, can and shall pay for being a gourmand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg pardon, but it is just these taxes which will create the greatest
+      discontent,&rdquo; answered Herzberg. &ldquo;Your majesty will remember that the duty
+      on coffee was complained of and criticised by every one, and the poor
+      people grumbled more than all. In spite of the resistance of government,
+      coffee has become, more and more, a means of nourishment and refreshment
+      for the lower class.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will teach them to renounce it,&rdquo; cried the king, striking the table
+      violently with his staff &ldquo;I will not suffer so much money to go out of the
+      country for this abominable beverage! My people shall re-learn to drink
+      their beer, instead of this infamous stuff, as I had to do when a young
+      man. What was good enough for the crown prince of Prussia, will to-day
+      suffice for his subjects. I tell you, Herzberg, I will teach them to drink
+      their beer, or pay dearly for this bad, foreign stuff. Then we will see
+      which will conquer, Prussian beer or foreign coffee.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is possible that the former will be victorious on account of their
+      poverty and the high duties; but in any case the people will be
+      discontented, and grumble against your majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you suppose that I care for that?&rdquo; asked the king, with a quick, fiery
+      glance at the calm, earnest face of his confidant. &ldquo;Do you think that I
+      care for the applause of the people, or trouble myself about their
+      complaints? I regard their shouting or their grumbling about as much as
+      the humming or buzzing of a fly upon the wall. If it dares to light upon
+      my nose, I brush it off; and if I can, I catch it. Beyond that, it is its
+      nature to hum and buzz. Herzberg, you understand that if a ruler should
+      listen to the praises or discontent of his subjects, he would soon be a
+      lost man, and would not know his own mind. The people are changeable as
+      the weather; to-morrow they crush under their feet what to-day they bore
+      aloft, and praise one day what they stone the next. Do not talk to me
+      about the people! I know this childish, foolish mass, and he is lost who
+      counts upon their favor. It is all the same to me whether they like or
+      hate me. I shall always do my duty to my subjects according to the best of
+      my knowledge and ability, as it becomes an honorable and faithful officer.
+      As the chief and most responsible servant of my kingdom, I should be
+      mindful to increase her income and diminish her expenses&mdash;to lay
+      taxes upon the rich, and lighten them for the poor. This is my task, and I
+      will fulfil it so long as I live!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; cried Herzberg, with enthusiasm, &ldquo;would that the entire nation might
+      hear these words, and engrave them upon their hearts!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why that, mon cher?&rdquo; asked Frederick, shrugging his shoulders. &ldquo;I do not
+      ask to be deified; my subjects are perfectly welcome to discuss my acts,
+      so long as they pay me punctually, and order and quiet are respected and
+      preserved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All that is done,&rdquo; said Herzberg, joyfully. &ldquo;The machine of state is so
+      well arranged, that she has fulfilled her duty during the war, and will
+      soon reestablish prosperity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Particularly,&rdquo; cried the king, &ldquo;if we rightly understand the art of
+      agriculture. In the end every thing depends upon him who best cultivates
+      his field. This is the highest art, for without it there would be no
+      merchants, courtiers, kings, poets, or philosophers. The productions of
+      the earth are the truest riches. He who improves his ground, brings waste
+      land under the plough, drains the swamps, makes the most glorious
+      conquests over barbarism.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And those are also conquerors, sire,&rdquo; said Herzberg, smiling, &ldquo;who drain
+      the mental swamps, and improve the waste mental ground. Such are those who
+      increase the schools and instruct the people. I have caused the school
+      authorities to report to me, according to your majesty&rsquo;s command. A happy
+      progress has been noticed everywhere. Cultivation and education are
+      advancing; and since our teachers have adopted the principles of Rousseau,
+      a more humane spirit is perceptible throughout our schools.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What principle do we owe to Jean Jacques?&rdquo; asked the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, the principle that man is good by nature!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, mon cher, who says that knows but little of the abominable race to
+      which we belong!&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: The king&rsquo;s words.&mdash;See &ldquo;Prussia.&rdquo;
+       vol. iv., p. 221.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you not believe in this doctrine?&rdquo; asked Herzberg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king raised his large blue eyes musingly to the busts placed upon the
+      bookcases, and around the walls. They lingered long upon those of Homer,
+      Plato, and D&rsquo;Alembert; then turned to that of Voltaire, with its
+      satyr-like face. &ldquo;No, I do not believe it,&rdquo; he sadly responded. &ldquo;Mankind
+      is an ignoble race; still one must love them, for among the wicked are
+      always some worthy ones, whose light beams so brightly clear, that they
+      change night into day. During my life I have learned to know many base,
+      miserable creatures, but I have become reconciled to them, as I have also
+      found some who were virtuous and excellent&mdash;some who were noble and
+      beautiful, as the grains of wheat among the chaff. You belong to the
+      latter, my Herzberg; and as in heaven many unjust will be forgiven for one
+      just person, so will I upon earth forgive on your account the Trencks,
+      Schaffgotschs, Goernes, Voltaires, Wallraves, Glasows, Dahsens, and all
+      the traitors, poisoners, and perfidious ones, as they may be called.
+      Remain by my side and sustain me, to prevent many a wicked thing and bring
+      to pass much that is good. I shall always be grateful to you in my heart
+      for it; that you can depend upon even if my weather-beaten face looks
+      ill-humored, and my voice is peevish. Remember that I am a fretful old
+      man, who is daily wasting away, approaching that bourne from which no
+      traveller has ever returned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God grant that your majesty may be far removed from this bourne!&rdquo; said
+      Herzberg, with emotion. &ldquo;And He may grant it on account of your subjects,
+      who are so much in need of your care and government.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no one upon earth who could not be replaced,&rdquo; said the king,
+      shaking his head. &ldquo;When I am gone, they will shout to my successor. I
+      trust my subjects will exchange a good ruler for their fretful old king. I
+      have been very well satisfied with him during the campaign, and he has
+      shown ability in the diplomatic mission to St. Petersburg. He has proved
+      himself a soldier and a diplomat, and I hope he will become a great king.
+      Herzberg, why do you not answer me, but cast down your eyes? What does
+      your silence mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing at all&mdash;truly nothing! The crown prince has a noble,
+      generous heart, a good understanding; only&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why hesitate, Herzberg? Go on&mdash;what is your &lsquo;only?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would only say that the crown prince must beware and not be governed by
+      others.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you mean that he will be ruled by mistresses and favorites?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do fear it, your majesty! You well know that the crown princes are
+      generally the antipodes of those ascendant to the throne. If the ruler has
+      only an enlightened mind, and is free from prejudices, so&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is his crown prince an obscurer,&rdquo; added quickly the king, &ldquo;having the
+      more prejudices, and is capable of being ruled by mystics and exorcists.
+      Is not that your meaning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Count Herzberg nodded. The king continued with animation: &ldquo;Some one has
+      told me of a new friend who returned from the war with the prince, and who
+      belongs to the Rosicrucians and exhorters, and hopes to find many
+      adherents here for such deceptions. Is it true?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sire. It is Colonel Bischofswerder, a Rosicrucian and necromancer
+      and of course of very pleasant address. He has indeed already gained much
+      power over the impressible mind of Frederick William, and his importance
+      is greatly on the increase.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does the crown prince&rsquo;s mistress say to it? Is she not jealous?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of which one does your majesty speak?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king started, and his eyes flashed. &ldquo;What!&rdquo; he cried with vehemence,
+      &ldquo;is there a question of several? Has the crown prince others besides
+      Wilhelmine Enke, whom I have tolerated?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, unfortunately, the prince has not a very faithful heart. Besides,
+      it is Bischofswerder&rsquo;s plan, as I suppose, to separate him from
+      Wilhelmine, who will not subordinate herself to him, and who even dares to
+      mock the necromancers and visionaries, and oppose them to the crown
+      prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does Enke do that?&rdquo; asked the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sire,&rdquo; answered Herzberg, as the king rose and slowly paced the
+      room. &ldquo;And one must acknowledge that in that she does well and nobly.
+      Otherwise one cannot reproach her. She leads a quiet, retired life, very
+      seldom leaving her beautiful villa at Charlottenburg, but devotes herself
+      to the education of her children. She is surrounded with highly-educated
+      men, savants, poets, and artists, who indeed all belong to the
+      enlightened, the so-called Illuminati, and which are a thorn in the eye to
+      Colonel Bischofswerder. Your majesty will perceive that I have some good
+      informants in this circle, and the latest news they bring me is that the
+      bad influence is upon the increase. The Rosicrucians reproach the prince
+      for his immoral connection with Wilhelmine Enke, as they would replace her
+      by one who gives herself up to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That shall not take place,&rdquo; cried the king. &ldquo;No, we will not suffer that;
+      and particularly when we are forced to recognize such abominable
+      connections, we should endeavor to choose the most desirable. I cannot
+      permit that this person, who has at least heart and understanding, should
+      be pushed aside by Bischofswerder. My nephew shall retain her, and she
+      shall drive away the Rosicrucians with all their deviltries. Herzberg, go
+      and tell the crown prince, from me, that I order&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His majesty suddenly stopped, and looked at Herzberg with surprise, who
+      was smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you laugh, Herzberg?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was not laughing, sire. If my lip quivered against my will, it was
+      because I stupidly and foolishly dared to finish the broken sentence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, how did you manage to conclude it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, your majesty said, &lsquo;Tell the crown prince that I order him&rsquo;&mdash;and
+      there you ceased. I added &lsquo;order him to love Wilhelmine Enke, and be
+      faithful to her.&rsquo; I beg pardon for my mistake. I should have known that
+      your majesty could never command the execution of that which is not to be
+      forced; that my great king recognizes, as well as I, that love is not
+      compulsory, or fidelity either. Pardon me for my impertinence, and tell me
+      the order which I shall take to the crown prince from my beloved king and
+      master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king stepped close up to the minister, and gazed with a half-sad,
+      half-tender expression in the noble and gentle face of Herzberg, and in
+      the sensible brown eyes, which sank not beneath the fiery glance of
+      Frederick. Then, slowly raising his hand from the staff, he menaced him
+      with his long, bony forefinger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herzberg, you are a rogue, and will teach me morals. Indeed, you are
+      right&mdash;love is not compulsory, but one can sometimes aid it. Say
+      nothing to the prince. The interior of his house must, indeed, be left to
+      himself, but we will keep our eyes open and be watchful. Do so also,
+      Herzberg, and if you discover any thing, tell me; and if Wilhelmine Enke
+      needs assistance against the infamous Rosicrucians, and with her aid this
+      mystic rabble can be suppressed, inform me, and I am ready to send her
+      succor. Ah! Herzberg, is it not a melancholy fact that one must fight his
+      way through so much wickedness to obtain so little that is good? My whole
+      life has passed in toil and trouble; I have grown old before my time, and
+      would rest from my labors, and harvest in the last few years, what I have
+      sown in a lifetime. Is it not sad that I hope for no fruit, and that the
+      seed that I have scattered will be trodden under foot by my successor? I
+      must gaze at the future without joy, without consolation!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king turned to the window, perhaps to hide the tears which stood in
+      his eyes. Herzberg did not presume to interrupt the sad silence, but gazed
+      with an expression of the deepest sympathy at the little bent form, in the
+      threadbare coat. Grief filled his heart at the thought that this head was
+      not only bowed down by the weight of years and well-deserved laurels, but
+      also from its many cares and griefs, and hopeless peering into the future.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king turned again, and his eyes were bright and un-dimmed. &ldquo;We must
+      never lose courage,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and we must have a reserve corps in life as
+      well as upon the field of battle. For the world resembles the latter, and
+      the former is a continual war, in which we must not be discouraged nor
+      cast down, if there is not hope in our souls. I will cling to As you have
+      said, and I have also found it true, that crown prince is a good and brave
+      man, and possesses a keen understanding, we may succeed in bringing him
+      from the erroneous ways in which his youth, levity, and the counsels of
+      wicked friends have led him. We will try with kindness and friendliness,
+      as I believe these have more effect upon him. Let us not even scorn to aid
+      Wilhelmine in so far as is compatible with honor. If a mistress is
+      necessary to the happiness of the prince, this one seems the most worthy
+      of all to encourage. Beyond the clouds the stars are still shining, and it
+      appears to me as if I see in perspective in the heaven of Prussia&rsquo;s
+      future, a star which promises a bright light with years. Do you not think
+      with me, the little Prince Frederick William is a rising star?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your majesty,&rdquo; answered Herzberg, joyfully, &ldquo;He is a splendid little
+      boy, of simple and innocent heart, and bright, vigorous mind, modest and
+      unpretending.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; cried the king, evidently cheered, &ldquo;there is one star and we
+      will watch over it, that it is not obscured. I must see the prince
+      oftener. He shall visit me every month and his governors and teachers
+      shall report to me every quarter. We will watch over his education, and
+      train him to be a good king for the future, and guard ourselves against
+      being pusillanimous, foolish, and fretful, and not be discouraged in life.
+      I have entered my last lustrum, or five years. Hush! do not dispute it,
+      but believe me! My physique is worn out, and the mental grows dull, and
+      although I live and move about, I am half in the grave. There are two
+      coffins in this room, which contain the greater part of my past. Look
+      around, do you not see them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Herzberg, as he glanced at the different articles of furniture,
+      &ldquo;I see none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look upon the table by the window&mdash;what do you there see?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty, there is an instrument-case and a sword-sheath.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are the ones I refer to. In the case lies my flute, that is to say,
+      my youth, love, poesy, and art, are encoffined there. In the sheath is my
+      sword, which is my manhood, energy, laurels, and fame. I will never play
+      the flute or draw the sword again. All that is past!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But there still remains for the great king a noble work to perfect,&rdquo;
+       cried Herzberg. &ldquo;Youth has flown, and the war-songs are hushed. The poet
+      and hero will change to the lawgiver. Sire, you have made Prussia great
+      and powerful externally; there remains a greater work, to make her the
+      same within. You have added new provinces, give them now a new code of
+      laws. You will no longer unsheath the sword of the hero; then raise that
+      of justice high above your subjects!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; cried the king, with beaming eyes. &ldquo;You have rightly seized and
+      comprehended what alone seems to me worthy of will and execution. There
+      shall be but one law for the high and the low, the poor and the rich. The
+      distinguished Chancellor Carmer shall immediately go to work upon it, and
+      you shall aid him. The necessity of such a reform we have lately felt in
+      the Arnold process, where the judge decided in favor of the rich, and
+      wronged the poor man. How could the judge sustain Count Schmettau against
+      the miller Arnold, who had been deprived of the water for his mill, when
+      it was so evident that it was unjust?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg pardon, majesty, but I believe the judge obeyed the very letter of
+      the law, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then this law must be annulled,&rdquo; interrupted the king. &ldquo;This is why I
+      revoked the judge&rsquo;s sentence, and sent the obstinate fellows to the
+      fortress, sustaining the miller in his right deposing the arrogant
+      Chancellor Furst. I had long resolved upon it, for I knew that he was a
+      haughty fellow, who let the poor crowd his anteroom, and listened to the
+      flattery of the high-born rabble who courted him. I only waited an
+      occasion to bow his haughty head. This offered, and I availed myself of
+      it, voila tout. It is to be hoped that it will be good example for all
+      courts of justice. They will remember that the least peasant and beggar is
+      a human being as much as the king, and that justice should be accorded to
+      if they do not, they will have to deal with me. If a college of justice
+      practises injustice, it is more dangerous than a band of robbers; for one
+      can protect himself from the latter but the former are rascals wearing the
+      mantle of justice, to exercise their own evil passions, from whom no man
+      can protect himself, and they are the greatest scoundrels in the world and
+      deserve a double punishment. I therefore deposed the unjust judge, and
+      sent him to the fortress at Spandau, that all might take warning by his
+      fate.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: The king&rsquo;s own words.&mdash;Seo &ldquo;Prussia, Frederick
+      the Great,&rdquo; vol. iv.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This Arnold trial belongs to history,&rdquo; said Herzberg. &ldquo;The lawyers will
+      refer to it after the lapse of centuries, and the poor and the oppressed
+      will recall and bless the thoughtfulness of the great king, who would open
+      just as wide a gate for them to enter the heaven of justice as to the rich
+      and noble. This new code of laws will beam above the crown of gold and of
+      laurels, with the splendor of the civil crown, whose brilliants are the
+      tears of gratitude of your people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May it be so,&rdquo; said Frederick, with earnestness. &ldquo;Now tell me, do you
+      know what day of the month it is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, it is the 30th of May.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you will remember it is the anniversary of Voltaire&rsquo;s death, and
+      after I have quarrelled for two years with the priests and so-called holy
+      fathers at Rome, I have gained my point, and the honor shall be shown him
+      here in Berlin which the priests and friars have refused to the immortal
+      poet in his own country. To-day, exactly at the hour which Voltaire died,
+      the mass for the dead will be read in the Catholic church, to free his
+      immortal soul from purgatory. I have, indeed, no idea of an immortal soul.
+      If there are any, and if it has to endure the threefold heat of which
+      Father Tobias, of Silesia, related to me, I do not believe that the
+      priests, for a few thalers, can loose the unhappy spirit from the
+      bake-oven. But as they refuse burial to the spirit of Voltaire, in order
+      to insult him after death, so must I avail myself of this occasion to
+      offer a last homage to the great poet, which will take place at four
+      o&rsquo;clock. Go to the mass, Herzberg, and tell me to-morrow how it went off&mdash;whether
+      the priests make right pious faces and burn much incense. Adieu. Au
+      revoir, demain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the king dismissed, with a friendly wave of the hand, his confidential
+      minister, he passed into his cabinet, remaining an hour with his
+      counsellors. At dinner appeared some of the generals, weather-worn and
+      bent, with wrinkled faces and dull eyes. Souvenirs of the glorious years
+      of fame and victory. The king nodded kindly to them, but during the entire
+      meal, he only let some indifferent questions fall from his lips, which
+      were devotedly and tediously answered by some one of the old generals. As
+      their dry, peevish voices resounded through the high, vaulted room, it
+      seemed to reawaken in Frederick&rsquo;s heart the souvenirs of memory and become
+      the echo of vanished days. He gazed up at the little Cupids, in the varied
+      play of bright colors, looking down from the clouds, and the goddesses
+      trumpeting through their long tubes the fame of the immortal, the same as
+      formerly, when they smiled from the clouds upon the beaming face of the
+      young king, dining in the distinguished circle of his friends Voltaire,
+      D&rsquo;Argens, Algarotti, La Melbrie, and Keith.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Cupids were fresh as ever, and the goddesses had not removed the
+      trumpets from their lips. But where were the of the merry round-table?
+      Returned to dust. The jests and poesy have died away&mdash;all have sunken
+      to decay and darkness. The king silently raised his glass of Tokay, gazing
+      up to the clouds and Cupids, draining it slowly in sacrifice for the dead.
+      Then with a vehement, contemptuous movement, he threw the glass over his
+      shoulder, shivering it into a thousand pieces. The old generals, after
+      dessert, had gently sunk into their afternoon nap, and now started,
+      frightened, looking wildly around, as if they expected the enemy were
+      approaching. Alkmene crept from under the king&rsquo;s chair muffing with her
+      long, delicate nose, the glistening pieces of glass, and the footman bent
+      himself to carefully pick them up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king rose silently, saluting the old generals, pointing with his staff
+      to the large folding-doors which led to the garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The footmen hastened forward to open them, and stand in stiff, military
+      order upon each side. Frederick walked slowly out, mounting the two steps
+      which led to the upper terrace, signing to the attendants to close the
+      doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was alone. Only Windspiel was there to spring about joyfully, barking,
+      and turning to meet him, who wandered on the border of the terrace, where
+      he had formerly walked with his friends. Now he stopped to gaze up the
+      broad, deserted steps which led from terrace to terrace, as if he could
+      re-people them with the well-known forms, and could see them approach and
+      greet him with the look of endless love and constancy. Then he raised his
+      eyes to heaven, as if to seek there those he in vain sought upon earth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you not see me, my friends?&rdquo; he asked, in a gentle but sad voice. &ldquo;Do
+      you not look down wonderingly where you saw a cheerful, smiling king, upon
+      the now bent, shrunken old man, cold and phlegmatic, who seldom speaks,
+      and then causes every one to yawn? Oh, where have you fled, beautiful
+      spring-time of life&mdash;wherein once we used to enliven our
+      conversations with the wit of the Athenians, and the jest fluttered upon
+      our lips as we glided through life in the bold enjoyment of youth?
+      Banished is the dance, and I creep about, leaning upon my staff, enfeebled
+      in body, and with saddened heart! Oh, awful change, unhappy old age! What
+      does it aid me that I am a king? I have won many a battle, but now I am
+      vanquished by age and death and am alone!&rdquo; <i>[Footnote: The king&rsquo;s words.&mdash;See
+      &ldquo;Posthumous Works,&rdquo; vol. x., p. 100.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A slight breeze rustled through the trees, fanning, caressingly, the
+      cheeks of the king. The perfume of sweet flowers rose from the terrace,
+      and below rushed the cascade. The marble groups around the fountain
+      glistened in the golden rays of the sun, and in the dark foliage fluttered
+      and sang the merry birds of summer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly the wind wafted from the church at Potsdam the clear tones of a
+      bell, announcing to the king the hour of four, the death of Voltaire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king walked along to the rose-arbor, to the temple of friendship,
+      where the bust of his sister Frederika was placed. He seated himself near
+      the entrance, listening to the ringing voice of the bell, and recalling
+      that the death-mass had now commenced in Berlin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The service sacred to memory! The prayer for the immortal soul! As the
+      lonely king sat there, calm and bowed down, a solemn prayer and holy mass
+      rose from his own soul. He bowed lower his head, and, without realizing it
+      himself, traced letters in the sand at his feet, with no witness but the
+      blue heavens above him, and Windspiel who curiously eyed the lines.
+      Thinking of the prayer for Voltaire&rsquo;s undying soul, the king had written
+      the word of profoundest mystery and revelation, of hope and prophecy&mdash;&ldquo;Immortality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The wind gently rustled in the trees, wafting the perfume of flowers.
+      Sweet stillness reigned around, and lowly sang the birds as if not to
+      waken the king, who slept by the marble form of his beloved sister&mdash;Windspiel
+      upon his knees, and in the sand at his feet the word traced by his own
+      hand, &ldquo;Immortality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX. CAGLIOSTRO&rsquo;S RETURN.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine Enke was still living at her villa at Charlottenburg. She was,
+      as formerly, the &ldquo;unmarried&rdquo; daughter of the hautboy-player, the favorite
+      and friend of the crown prince; the same as two years previous, when he
+      presented her before the Bavarian campaign, with this house and There was
+      no change in her outward circumstances; her life passed regularly and
+      calmly. The once fresh and beautiful cheek had lost somewhat of its
+      youthful, roseate hue, and the smile of the ruby lips was less haughty,
+      and the warmth of those brilliant eyes was subdued. This was the only
+      perceptible difference wrought by the little vexations and troubles
+      incident to her position. She had found some bitter drops in the golden
+      goblet which the prince in his love pressed to her lips&mdash;drops which
+      were uncongenial to lips accustomed to the sweets of life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To-day she had awaited him at dinner, and had just received a very
+      friendly but laconic letter, excusing himself until the following morning.
+      This was an unpalatable drop. Wilhlemine paced back and forth the
+      solitary, gloomy path, at the foot of the garden, re-reading this letter,
+      and examining every word to search out its hidden meaning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have brought this about,&rdquo; she murmured, tearing the letter into
+      little pieces, which lighted upon the shrubbery like butterflies. &ldquo;Yes, it
+      is their work. They have sought by all possible means to draw him into
+      their power, and away from me. And they will succeed, as there are two of
+      them, and the princess sustains them; and I am alone, unsupported. I am
+      entirely alone&mdash;alone!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you are alone, then, it is surely your own fault,&rdquo; said an earnest,
+      solemn voice, and at the same instant a tall form approached from the
+      shrubbery which bordered the side of the garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cagliostro!&rdquo; shrieked Wilhelmine, shrinking terrified away. &ldquo;Oh, mercy
+      upon me, it is Cagliostro!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why are you so frightened, my daughter?&rdquo; he asked, gently. &ldquo;Why do you
+      withdraw from me, and cast down your eyes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you were in Courland,&rdquo; she stammered, confused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And whilst you thought me afar, you forgot your sacred oath and holy
+      duty,&rdquo; he replied, in a harsh, severe tone. &ldquo;Oh my daughter, the
+      Invisibles weep and lament bitterly over you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am curious to see these tears,&rdquo; said Wilhelmine, who had now recovered
+      her self-composure. &ldquo;Do you think, Herr Magus, any of them could be found
+      in the eyes of Colonel Bischofswerder and his intimate friend Woellner? Do
+      you pretend that they also weep over me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They do not belong to the Invisibles, but the Visibles. But their souls
+      are true and faithful, and would have to mourn over the unhappy one who
+      could forget her vows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then allow me to say that I abjure these tears, and laugh at the idea
+      that these hypocrites and necromancers weep over me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My daughter, what words are these, and how strangely altered you are! I
+      have come from the far north, and but just alighted from the
+      travelling-carriage. I came at once to see you, and hoped to be greeted
+      joyfully with a kiss of love, and what do I hear instead? Harsh words
+      filled with scorn and mockery, and disobedience against the Invisible
+      Fathers, to whom you have sworn fidelity and submission!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have forced me to it!&rdquo; she cried, impetuously. &ldquo;In my own house you
+      came upon me and compelled me to take part in your mystic assembly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If one loves humanity, he must insist upon its accepting happiness,&rdquo; said
+      Cagliostro, solemnly. &ldquo;We recognized in you one of the elect, one of the
+      great souls which are worthy to see the light, and sun themselves in the
+      rays of knowledge. Therefore we accepted you among the spirits of the
+      alliance, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And made great promises, of which not one has been fulfilled. Where is
+      the title of countess, the influence, position, honor, and dignity, which
+      you prophesied to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are the deeds you promised to perform, the witnesses of your
+      fidelity and devotion?&rdquo; he thunderingly demanded. &ldquo;You have dared to rebel
+      against the holy alliance! Your short-sighted spirit presumes to mock
+      those eyes which perceive that you are straying away! Beware&mdash;Wilhemine,
+      beware! I came to-day to warn you, when I return it will be to punish you.
+      Turn, oh turn while there is yet time! Submit your will to the Fathers, as
+      you have sworn to do! The promised reward will not fail, and Wilhelmine
+      Enke will become a countess, a princess, and the most distinguished and
+      powerful will bow before her. The Fathers demand of you repentance, and
+      renunciation of the worst enemies of the Rosicrucians. Members, and even
+      chiefs and pioneers of the Illuminati and Freemasons are welcomed at your
+      house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why should they not be?&rdquo; asked she, smiling. &ldquo;They are happy, cheerful
+      spirits, void of mysteries, and do not torture people with mysticisms.
+      They have but one aim, a great and glorious one, to free the mind from
+      superstition and hypocrisy. They encounter with open countenance the false
+      devotees who would force men into spiritual servitude, that they may
+      become the slaves of their will. You call them &lsquo;Illuminati,&rsquo; while they
+      have undertaken to illuminate the minds with the beams of knowledge which
+      the Rosicrucians obscure in a mystical fog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unhappy one, do you dare to say that to me?&rdquo; cried Cagliostro,
+      menacingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she responded, keeping her large, brown eyes firmly fixed upon
+      Cagliostro&rsquo;s angry face. &ldquo;That I dare to repeat to you, and I would also
+      remark that we are not in the mystical assembly of the Rosicrucians, and
+      your familiar &lsquo;Du&rsquo; is out of place. I belong to the Illuminati, and mingle
+      with the freethinkers. They have not, indeed, promised me titles, honors,
+      or dignities, but they have amused me, have driven ennui from the house,
+      and instead of mysticisms, brought me poesy, and instead of the invisible
+      holy church, the Greek temple. It is possible my life may not be a godly
+      one, but it is as happy as the gods, and that is something in this tedious
+      world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I regard you with astonishment,&rdquo; said Cagliostro, &ldquo;for I recognize in
+      your countenance that the devil has won you over to his power, and in you
+      he speaks with the bold insolence of the sinful. Subdue, unhappy child,
+      your rash speech, that the Fathers may not hear of it, and crush you in
+      their wrath.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not fear their thunderbolts, permit me to tell you. We are in
+      Prussia; the great king watches over all his subjects; neither the Romish
+      Church nor the Rosicrucians can obscure the light of knowledge. He will
+      not suffer a ghost, sneaking in the dark, to exercise power here, and he
+      will not refuse the protection to me which is accorded to the least of his
+      subjects. I do not fear you, and I will tell you the truth entire, I
+      believe you to be a hypocrite and a charlatan, who&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miserable one!&rdquo; interrupted Cagliostro, as he furiously rushed to her,
+      seizing her by the arm&mdash;&ldquo;cease, unhappy one, or your life is
+      forfeited to the invisible avengers!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine shook her head, and encountered his flaming eyes with a proud
+      glance. &ldquo;I repeat your own words&mdash;cease, or your life will be
+      forfeited! Perhaps you think I do not know what happened to you in Mittau,
+      where you were recognized as a charlatan, who fooled the poor creatures
+      into the belief of his miraculous acts, which consisted in lightening
+      their purses to the benefit of his own. You were obliged to flee from
+      Mitlau in the night, to save yourself, your treasures, and wonderful
+      man-traps, and the beautiful Lorenza Feliciana. Beware! The Empress of
+      Russia had a certain Joseph Balsamo pursued, who had practised great
+      deception, and people pretend that he resembles Count Cagliostro. The
+      Empress Catherine is a good friend and ally of the King of Prussia, and if
+      the happy idea should occur to me to propose seeking the necromancer here,
+      the Great Kophta might come a miserable end.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary, it would only be a welcome occasion for the Great Kophta
+      to reveal himself, and hurl his despicable, malicious enemy into the dust
+      at his feet,&rdquo; replied Cagliostro, calmly. &ldquo;Try it, you faithless, fallen
+      daughter of the Invisibles&mdash;try to unloose the pack of my enemies, to
+      recognize that all their yelling and barking does not trouble the noble
+      stag to whom God has given the whole world for His forestward that He
+      should rule therein. I have listened to you unto the end, and I regard
+      your invectives and accusations as not worthy of a reply or justification,
+      and I laugh at your menaces. But I warn you, Wilhelmine Enke, defy not the
+      Invisibles, and offend not the Holy Fathers, by your continued resistance.
+      Turn, misguided child of sin&mdash;turn while there is yet time! In their
+      name I offer you a last chance, their forbearance is without bounds, and
+      their mercy long enduring.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I neither desire your forbearance nor mercy,&rdquo; cried she, proudly. &ldquo;I will
+      have no companionship with my enemies, and the Rosicrucians are such, for
+      Bischofswerder and Woellner both hate me, and would put me aside. There is
+      no reconciliation where only hostility is possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The heavenly listen not to the voices of the earthly, and prove
+      themselves, the most noble when the least deserved. They will protect and
+      watch over you, even against your will, and never will they be deaf to
+      your cry for aid in the hour of Here is a token of their grace toward you.
+      Take this ring&mdash;do you recognize it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine regarded it attentively. &ldquo;This is the ring which I gave at the
+      tribute-altar instead of gold, which you desired.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Invisibles sent it to you to-day as the precious pledge of their
+      favor. You shall keep it, and wear it as a token of their heavenly
+      forbearance, and when you turn back from the erroneous ways into which the
+      Illuminati have led you, send it to the circle of Berlin directors, either
+      Bischofswerder or Wollner, and they will come to your rescue. Farewell! I
+      forgive you all your wicked words, which fall like spent arrows from the
+      helmet of my righteousness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cagliostro turned proudly away, and disappeared in the bushes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine placed the ring upon her finger, turning it to watch the play
+      of colors. &ldquo;I do not know why,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;but it has not the same
+      brilliancy as formerly. I will take it to the jeweller Wagner, and ask him
+      if it is the same stone. Perhaps the Great Kophta has tried some of his
+      miracles upon it. I will at once send the servant to Minister von
+      Herzberg, and inform him that Cagliostro is here. He has promised me
+      protection in the name of the king, and I feel that I shall now have need
+      of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She hurried to the house, and devoted herself to the writing of the said
+      letter&mdash;a task she was but little accustomed to. She had learned to
+      speak French very prettily, and to express herself skilfully and wittily
+      in German, and under her royal master, the crown prince Frederick William,
+      gained much valuable scientific knowledge. But to write fluently was quite
+      another thing, and it was a long time before the epistle was finished.
+      However, happily accomplished, she commanded the servant to take it to
+      Berlin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed with silent submission; but once having quitted the house, a
+      cunning smile was visible upon his face, and he availed himself of a
+      stage-coach which was going in the same direction. &ldquo;I can afford this
+      expense,&rdquo; said he, arranging himself comfortably. &ldquo;When I have money in my
+      pocket why should I walk the long distance? I was very clever to tell
+      Bischofswerder that the Minister von Herzberg had secretly visited my
+      mistress, and it was equally clever of him to give me a louis d&rsquo;or, and
+      promise me the same every time that I should bring him important news.
+      Indeed, I think to-day he may well thank me, and I believe, if I often
+      inform him, he will advance me a degree, and at last I shall be admitted
+      to the circle of the elect, while I now belong to the outside circle, who
+      know nothing and hope every thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX. THE TRIUMVIRATE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      While Wilhelmine&rsquo;s servant gave himself up to his hopes, slowly down the
+      broad avenue, an elegant four-in-hand carriage rolled past him, and
+      stopped at the house where lived Colonel Bischofswerder, long before he
+      had reached the Brandenburg Gate. A gentleman sprang out, hastening past
+      the footman into the house, where a servant evidently awaited his arrival,
+      and preceded him with devout mien, throwing open the wide folding-doors
+      and announcing, in a solemn voice&mdash;&ldquo;His excellency, Count
+      Cagliostro.&rdquo; He then respectfully withdrew, bowing profoundly as the count
+      passed, and closed quickly and noiselessly the doors behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two gentlemen within hastened to meet the count, who nodded smilingly,
+      and extended to them with a gracious condescension his white hand
+      sparkling with diamonds. &ldquo;My dear brothers,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you have
+      unfortunately announced me the truth&mdash;Wilhelmine Enke is faithless&mdash;is
+      an apostate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A courtesan, ensnared by the devil of unchastity,&rdquo; murmured the elder of
+      the two&mdash;a man of long, lank figure, pale, pock-marked face, the
+      broad high forehead shaded with but little hair, the watery blue eyes
+      turned upward, as if in pious ecstasy, and the large, bony hands either
+      folded as if in prayer, or as if in quiet contemplation, twirling his
+      thumbs around each other. &ldquo;I have always said so,&rdquo; said he, with a
+      long-drawn sigh; &ldquo;she is a temptress, whom Satan, in bodily repetition of
+      himself, has placed by the prince&rsquo;s side, and his salvation cannot be
+      counted upon until this person is removed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, my beloved brother, think otherwise&mdash;do you not?&rdquo; asked
+      Cagliostro, gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Bischofswerder, &ldquo;you know well, sublime master and ruler,
+      how much I esteem and love the worthy and honorable Wollner, and how much
+      weight his opinion has with me. In all my reports to the Invisible Fathers
+      I have always particularly mentioned him, and it was upon my wish and
+      proposal that they appointed him director of one of the three Berlin
+      circles. He is occupied near me in the confederacy, and is also in the
+      service of the crown prince, for it was by my especial, earnest
+      recommendation that his highness called him to Berlin from the exchequer
+      of Prince Henry at Rheinsberg, that he might give him lectures in politics
+      and other branches of administration, I do not say it to boast, although I
+      have always regarded it as an honor to have opened the way to a
+      distinguished man, to have his great talents properly valued. I only say
+      it to prove my high appreciation of dear brother Wollner, and to defend
+      myself, master, in your eyes, that I differ in opinion from him, and do
+      not advise a violent removal of this person, to whom the prince is more
+      attached than he himself knows of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not necessary to excuse yourself to me, my son,&rdquo; said Cagliostro,
+      pompously. &ldquo;The eyes which the Invisibles have lighted up with a beam of
+      revelation, see into the depths of things, and reveal the most hidden. I
+      have glanced into your hearts, and I will tell you that which I have
+      therein read. You, Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder, belong to the world;
+      its joys and sorrows agitate you. You have a longing for science and the
+      knowledge of the Invisibles, and you would also enjoy the Visibles, and
+      take part in the pleasures of life. What you would allow yourself, that
+      you would also grant to your royal master, whose friend and leader you
+      are, and who, one day, will be the future king and ruler of the visible
+      world, and a faithful son and servant of the Invisibles. Is it not thus?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so,&rdquo; answered Bischofswerder, who, with wondering astonishment,
+      drank in every word that fell from Cagliostro&rsquo;s lips as a revelation. &ldquo;You
+      have read the inmost thoughts of my heart, and what I scarcely suspected
+      myself, you are knowing of, lord and master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Toil and strive, my son, and you shall rise to the highest grade, in
+      which presentiment and recognition, thinking and knowing, are one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He extended to Bischofswerder his hand, who fervently pressed it to his
+      lips; then turned to Wollner, who, with upturned gaze and folded hands,
+      might have been praying, for his thumbs were not turning around, but
+      rested, quietly crossed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, my son and brother,&rdquo; continued Cagliostro, with his lofty, haughty
+      reserve, &ldquo;your thoughts are diverted from earth, and the joys of this
+      world have no charm for you!&rdquo; &ldquo;I have laid the oath of virtue and chastity
+      upon the altar of the Invisibles,&rdquo; replied Wollner, with a severe tone of
+      voice. &ldquo;I have given myself to a pious life of abstinence, and sworn to
+      employ every means to lead those that I can attain to upon the narrow path
+      which leads to the paradise of science, of knowledge, and heavenly joys.
+      How could I forget my oath, which is to win the prince, who is to become a
+      light and shield in the holy order, from the broad course of vice, to the
+      pathway of the blest? How can I bear to see him lost in sin who is elected
+      to virtue, and who longs for the light of knowledge?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, in order to bear the light in its brightness, he must have passed
+      through the darkness and gloom of sin,&rdquo; said Cagliostro. &ldquo;After the days
+      of error follow those of knowledge. This is what causes the mildness of
+      our brother Theophilus, whom the earthly world calls Bischofswerder,
+      whilst you, brother Chrysophorus, demand from the prince the severest
+      virtue, which is the first great vow of the brothers advancing in the holy
+      order of the Rosicrucians. You are both wrong and both right. It is well
+      to be lenient as brother Theophilus, but that must have its limit, and the
+      night wanderer who stands upon the brink of a precipice must be awakened,
+      but not with violent words, or calling loudly his name, because a sudden
+      awakening would only hasten his fall. Slowly and carefully must he be
+      roused; as one would by degrees accustom the invalid eyes to the mid-day,
+      so must the light of virtue and knowledge dawn upon the eyes, ill from
+      vice, with prudent foresight. Hear my proposal. Summon the three circles
+      of the brothers of the highest degree to a sitting to-night. You have told
+      me that the prince desires to belong to the seeing ones, and be in
+      communion with the spiritual world. This night his wish shall be
+      fulfilled, to see the spirits, and a new future shall rise before him. My
+      time is limited; let us arrange every thing, for the voices of the
+      Invisibles already call me home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this instant a modest knocking was heard at the door, which was
+      repeated at different intervals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my servant,&rdquo; said Bischofswerder, &ldquo;and he has undoubtedly an
+      important communication for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He opened the door, speaking with the person outside in a low tone, and
+      returned with a sealed note.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cagliostro, apparently, was lest in deep thought and indifferent to the
+      conversation without, directing quietly and calmly, in the mean time, a
+      few questions to Wollner, and, as it seemed, listening only to his
+      answers. Yet as Bischofswerder approached him, saying, &ldquo;it is, indeed,
+      important news; I have proof in hand that&mdash;&rdquo; he interrupted him with
+      a commanding motion, and finished the broken sentence: &ldquo;&mdash;that
+      Wilhelmine Enke is a powerful adversary, having connection with the court,
+      as this letter from her is directed to Minister Herzberg. Is it not this
+      that you would say, Theophilus?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Astonished, he replied in the affirmative, begging his master to read it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is unnecessary,&rdquo; replied Cagliostro, waving back the letter; &ldquo;to the
+      seeing eyes every thing is revealed. This person announces to Minister von
+      Herzberg that the deceiver and necromancer, Cagliostro, in his flight from
+      Mittau, has visited her to menace her. She begs protection for herself and
+      an arrest for me; that I am known as Count Julien, at the hotel King of
+      Portugal, at Berlin, and that haste is necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both gentlemen glanced astonished and enraptured, first at the sealed
+      epistle and then at the great Magus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Open the letter and convince yourselves of the contents!&rdquo; commanded
+      Cagliostro.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is unnecessary,&rdquo; cried Bischofswerder, with enthusiasm. &ldquo;We recognize
+      in you truth and knowledge; you have revealed to us the contents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, there is a lingering doubt in the mind of brother Chrysophorus!&rdquo;
+       said Cagliostro, regarding Woellner fixedly, who stood with downcast eyes
+      before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My ruler and master,&rdquo; stammered Woellner, in confusion, &ldquo;I dare not
+      doubt, only&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would only be convinced, open then the letter,&rdquo; interrupted
+      Cagliostro, sarcastically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a sharp knife, Bischofswerder cut the end of the envelope, and handed
+      the letter to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it to Chrysophorus,&rdquo; commanded the count. &ldquo;He shall read it, and may
+      the incredulous become a believer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Woellner perused the epistle with a slightly tremulous voice, stopping now
+      and then, at an illegible word, which his master quickly supplied to him,
+      finishing the sentence as correctly as if he held the writing in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The contents were exactly as Cagliostro had given them, and the farther
+      Wollner read, the more his voice quivered and Bischofswerder&rsquo;s enthusiasm
+      increased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the reading was finished, the former sank, with uplifted hands, before
+      his master, as if imploring mercy from a mighty, crushing power.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been unbelieving as Tobias, doubting as Paul; have mercy on me, O
+      master! for in this hour the divine light of belief and knowledge banishes
+      doubt from my sinful heart. I acknowledge thy supernatural power and
+      heavenly wisdom! My whole being bows in humility before you and your
+      sublimity, and henceforth I will only be your humble scholar and servant,
+      the tool of your will. Forgive me, all-knowing one, if my heart doubted.
+      Breathe upon me the breath of knowledge, and lay thy august right hand
+      upon my head, and penetrate me with thy heavenly power.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have mercy upon me also,&rdquo; cried Bischofswerder, as he kneeled beside
+      Woellner, and, like him, raised his hands imploringly to Cagliostro.
+      &ldquo;Breathe upon me the breath of thy grace, and regard me, the repentant and
+      unworthy, with thy heavenly glance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cagliostro looked to heaven, and from his lips there fell disconnected
+      words of exhortation; suddenly he drew forth his hands, which he had
+      pushed into his gown and crossed upon his breast, stretching them out with
+      wide-spread fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to me, ye spirits!&rdquo; he cried, in a loud, thundering voice. &ldquo;Ye
+      spirits of fire and air, come to me! Ye shall flame and burn upon the
+      heads of these two persons and announce to them that the Invisibles are
+      with us. Come to me, ye spirits of fire!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He clinched his fingers, extending them again, and upon the points there
+      danced and flickered a blue light. A heavenly smile shone upon the
+      beautiful face of the Magus, his hands slowly sank upon the heads of the
+      kneeling ones, the flames gliding upon their heads, resting there a
+      moment, and then dying away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Invisibles have proclaimed themselves to you through the sign of
+      fire,&rdquo; cried Cagliostro. &ldquo;The sacred flame has glowed upon your heads, and
+      I now press upon your brow the solemn kiss of consecration and knowledge!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed down to the kneeling ones. It seemed as if a cloud of perfume had
+      passed over their glowing faces, or as if an odorous lily had been pressed
+      upon their foreheads, and their hearts quivered with delight. He passed
+      his hand lightly over their faces, and a feeling of rapture spread through
+      their whole being. Then as he commanded them to rise, they obeyed, without
+      realizing that they had limbs or body, but regarded the miracle-worker,
+      entranced with his smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cagliostro, with hasty decision and earnest, commanding air, made a few
+      opposite strokes in the air, and immediately the faces of the magnetized
+      looked as if they had awakened from a dream of splendor and delight to
+      insipid, flat reality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have permitted you to behold, for an instant, the mysteries and
+      miracles which are serviceable to the knowing ones,&rdquo; said Cagliostro, with
+      calm earnestness. &ldquo;Your souls were in communion with the Invisibles, and
+      from the source of knowledge a spark of illumination fell upon your heads.
+      Guard it as a heavenly secret that no one should know of, and now let us
+      continue our conversation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Permit me once more to lay my head at your feet, and receive power from
+      the touch thereof,&rdquo; implored Bischofswerder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me embrace your knees, and entreat pardon and grace,&rdquo; begged
+      Woellner, as he sank down to clasp them, and the former threw himself at
+      the feet of his master, passionately kissing them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Smilingly he received their homage, and assisted them to rise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now let us speak in a human, reasonable manner, my friends. Brother
+      Theophilus, you, first of all, return the letter to the envelope and seal
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Bischofswerder obeyed; taking from the table a little bottle and a small
+      brush, he carefully applied an adhesive substance to the edges, pressing
+      them firmly together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Master, no one could discover that it had been opened. Command what shall
+      be done with it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it to your servant, that he may return it to him who brought it, and
+      the latter can now deliver it at its address.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Minister Herzberg!&rdquo; they both cried, amazed. &ldquo;It is impossible; he
+      is a sworn enemy of the holy order and your own heavenly person. He could
+      take the most violent measures, and cause your excellency to be arrested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe it,&rdquo; smiled Cagliostro. &ldquo;The great Frederick would announce
+      triumphantly that he had had the great Semiramis of the North taken, which
+      the Russian police had failed to accomplish. It would be a welcome triumph
+      for unbelievers and fools, and they would trumpet it joyfully through the
+      world! It must not be; although my spirit in its power and might would
+      soon release my body, yet I will not grant this momentary triumph to my
+      enemies. My time is limited; I must forth to Egypt, where the Brothers of
+      the Millennium will assemble in the course of a week in the pyramids, to
+      announce to me their will for the coming century. I am the Spirit of God,
+      which the Invisibles have willed to enter a human form, therefore it must
+      be regarded as sacred and protected.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Allow me to guard, with my life, your sublime person!&rdquo; cried
+      Bischofswerder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I also implore you to grant me the happiness to watch over the
+      security of your heavenly self, and defend it to the last drop of my
+      blood!&rdquo; cried Woellner; &ldquo;only tell us what we have to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Above all things obey my command concerning the letter,&rdquo; replied the
+      count, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bischofswerder submissively went out with the epistle, returning in a few
+      moments. &ldquo;It is as you have ordered: in a quarter of an hour it will be in
+      the hands of Minister Herzberg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied the count, fixing his eyes upon empty space, &ldquo;it will not be
+      there, for Herzberg is not at home. I now see him driving in a carriage
+      with four black steeds to the country. At this instant he is crossing a
+      bridge, now he enters a town, turning down one of the streets, where the
+      noise of the wheels is lost. Again I hear him, leaving by the gate,
+      ascending a broad avenue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the route to Sans-Souci,&rdquo; murmured Bischofswerder, in a low voice,
+      but the count must have understood him, as he repeated aloud:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that is the route to Sans-Souci, and the lonely, fretful old king
+      will keep his minister the entire day, and will not receive the missive
+      from his secret female accomplice until his return in the evening, and
+      then he will dispatch his bailiffs in all haste to the hotel to arrest
+      Count St. Julien, and forward an order to every gate to forbid his
+      departure. It will be too late, however&mdash;he will have already
+      departed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Departed!&rdquo; cried the two gentlemen, frightened. &ldquo;Will you, then, forsake
+      us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, my brothers, be quiet!&rdquo; answered Cagliostro. &ldquo;I shall have departed
+      for the profane, but I will remain here for the consecrated until
+      to-morrow morning. It oft happens that the lofty even must come down, and
+      the brilliant obscure themselves. To-day I must descend from my spiritual
+      height, and humble myself in the dust of lowliness. When the unholy and
+      unconsecrated essay to behold that which they should not with their
+      earthly eyes; they must be blinded with earthly dust, and for those which
+      are not worthy of miracles, we must sometimes condescend to jugglers&rsquo; 
+      tricks. By the latter I will mislead my enemies to-day. How many gates are
+      there to the city of Berlin?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are nine, master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Send immediately messengers around in your circles to order eight
+      travelling-carriages and sixteen large black trunks. Further, send me
+      eight confidential discreet men of my height and size, with eight perukes,
+      exactly the cut of mine. Command four post-horses, with two postilions for
+      eight different addresses. This is all that is necessary for the moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All shall be faithfully and quickly accomplished,&rdquo; said Bischofswerder,
+      humbly. &ldquo;We will divide the execution of your orders, and there only
+      remains to appoint the time and place when and where to direct the
+      postilions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All this will follow; forget not, in trifling, earthly things, the great
+      heavenly circumstances. Summon the consecrated of the highest degree of
+      your circle to go to-night to the palace of Prince Frederick William at
+      Potsdam, and under the very eyes of the old freethinking king we will open
+      to the crown prince the doors of the spiritual world, and consecrate him
+      to the highest degree. But first the Invisibles shall speak with him, and
+      announce the heavenly region of the unapproachable. Finish the
+      preparations, my brothers&mdash;fulfil exactly and punctually my orders,
+      and then come to the hotel to receive my last commands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI. FUTURE PLANS.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Cagliostro quitted the two confidants, entered his carriage awaiting him
+      before the door, and drove to the hotel. The host and chief waiter
+      received him with extreme deference, both accompanying him up the stairs&mdash;the
+      latter throwing wide open the large doors of his room. The count turned,
+      and, in addressing some indifferent question to the host, opened his
+      gold-embroidered blue satin vest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The host turned pale, and shrank back, as if seized with a sudden fright.
+      Cagliostro passed on, motioning him to follow, which he humbly obeyed,
+      sinking upon his knees as the door closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you recognized the sign which I wear upon my breast?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, master,&rdquo; he stammered, bowing down with the greatest reverence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you belong to the elect of the Inner Temple, for the sign of
+      knowledge is only made known to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do, indeed, understand its mysteries, master, and I know that one of
+      the Invisibles, in infinite condescension, appears in a visible form
+      before me. Immeasurable as the happiness, is my obedience! Command me,
+      master; my life and riches belong to the holy alliance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rise and receive my orders,&rdquo; replied Cagliostro, with great dignity. In a
+      brief, dictatorial manner he communicated the necessary arrangements; then
+      dismissed him with a haughty nod, and entered the adjoining room of his
+      wife, Lorenza Feliciana.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had thrown herself upon the divan, in charming neglige. Her head was
+      encircled with black ringlets, which she wore unpowdered, despite the
+      fashion. Her eyes were closed, and her beautiful shoulders were but half
+      concealed by a black lace veil.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She slept so quietly and soundly that the count did not awaken her upon
+      entering. He approached her lightly upon the soft carpet, and stood
+      regarding her attentively. A pleasant smile spread over his face,
+      softening its expression, and his eyes beamed with passionate tenderness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is indeed beautiful,&rdquo; he murmured, softly. &ldquo;No one could withstand
+      the charm of this wonderful woman. Ah, would that I could crush these
+      wicked spirits within me, silence all these seductive, sinful voices, and
+      fly to some secluded valley of our dear fatherland, and there, reposing on
+      her love, let life glide calmly on and smile at the past without regret,
+      as a fading dream! Would that I could forget, and become again pure and
+      innocent, blest in my affection, simple in my tastes, and without wants!
+      But no, it is too late! I cannot retreat, the demons will not be driven
+      out; to them my soul belongs, and I must fulfil my destiny!&mdash;Awake,
+      Lorenza, awake!&rdquo; Her beautiful form shook with fright; she started, opened
+      her eyes, demanding, &ldquo;What is the matter? Who is here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is I, Lorenza,&rdquo; he said, sadly; &ldquo;I was obliged to awaken you, to tell
+      you something important.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are the pursuers here? Have they discovered us? Are they coming to take
+      us to prison?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; be quiet, Lorenza, no one has discovered us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quiet!&rdquo; she repeated, with a scornful laugh. &ldquo;We have travelled day and
+      night the last ten days, hiding ourselves in miserable holes and dens,
+      under assumed names, believing our pursuers were at our hacks; and now
+      that we are showing ourselves publicly, you ask me to be quiet! I have
+      slept for the first time since that fearful night in Mittau, and it is
+      very cruel and thoughtless of you to wake me, if the bailiffs are not
+      here, and danger does not menace us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the moment we are safe, but I have something important to tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Important?&rdquo; she cried, shrugging her shoulders. &ldquo;What is of consequence
+      to me, since that night? Oh, when I think of it, I could shriek with rage,
+      I could annihilate myself in despair!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was indeed a dreadful experience, and my heart quakes when I think of
+      it,&rdquo; said Cagliostro, gloomily. &ldquo;The secret assembly consisted of the
+      highest and most influential of the Courland nobility. Suspecting no
+      wrong, not even that there could be traitors among the believers who would
+      falsify my spirit apparatus, I gave myself up to conjuring the departed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I upon my fairy throne,&rdquo; added Lorenza, &ldquo;couched in the innocent
+      costume of the celestial, only veiled with a silvery cloud, heard a sudden
+      shriek. The room was quite dark; I saw, upon opening my eyes, that no
+      spirits enlivened it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every thing failed&mdash;that is to say, my assistants let it fail,&rdquo; said
+      the count, &ldquo;and the assembly began to murmur. Suddenly, instead of the
+      departed princes and heroes, what fearful forms arose!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Apes, cats, and other animals,&rdquo; cried Lorenza, with a loud laugh. &ldquo;Oh,
+      what an irresistible sight! In spite of my anger I had to laugh, and laugh
+      I did upon the fairy throne, like&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like a foolish child who neither knows nor understands danger,&rdquo;
+       interrupted the count. &ldquo;Your laughing soon ceased in the fearful tumult
+      and uproar. They shrieked for light, the ladies fled, and the men menaced
+      me with loud curses, calling me a charlatan, and threatening my life!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mine also,&rdquo; cried Lorenza; &ldquo;oh, what insults and ill-treatment I was
+      forced to listen to! They rushed upon me, shrieking for the brilliants and
+      money which they had brought me as an offering. How they scolded and
+      called me a deceiver! I was only very beautiful and coquettish, and that
+      was no deception! I charmed them with my coyness, and they brought me the
+      most costly presents, because I was a virtuous woman. Now they reproached
+      me, demanding a return of them all, which they had forced upon me of their
+      own free will. I was obliged to bear it silently in my costume of
+      innocence, and as goddess I could not defend myself and speak with human
+      beings&mdash;who pushed up to the throne. It was a very ridiculous
+      position; happily I did not quite lose my senses, but let the apparatus
+      play, and disappeared into my dressing-room below, which fortunately
+      closed above me. I dressed, and rushed to your room to rescue my
+      treasures.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even in this extreme danger you only thought of your riches, not of me,&rdquo;
+       said Cagliostro, with a bitter smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you not taught me yourself that money was the only thing worth
+      striving to possess? Have you not revealed to in wisdom that riches alone
+      make us happy, and procure for us honor, power, love, and constancy? Ah!
+      Joseph, have you not made me the miserable, heartless creature that I am?
+      Can you reproach me that your teaching has borne such good fruit? I am
+      happy to be the priestess of wealth, and grateful for what you have made
+      known to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; sighed Cagliostro, &ldquo;I have taught you the truth of things; I
+      have disclosed to you the world&rsquo;s motive power. Riches are indeed the god
+      upon earth, toward whom all are pressing, rushing on. We must all follow
+      and serve him as slaves, or be crushed under the wheels of his triumphal
+      car. Men talk and reason about the storm and pressure which is spreading
+      through the world, and finally will reduce every thing to storm the
+      eternal and undying bliss of wealth, and press on for gold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To think that we have lost every thing!&rdquo; cried Lorenza, springing up and
+      stamping with her silken-shod foot; &ldquo;every thing is lost that I have been
+      years gaining, by hypocrisy, deception, and coquetry. They have robbed me!
+      The shameful barbarians have seized all our effects. The police surrounded
+      the house, guarding every entrance, and we were obliged to escape by the
+      roof into the house of one of the brothers, leaving all our treasures
+      behind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You exaggerate, Lorenza, and represent it worse than it is. Look around;
+      you are surrounded with luxury and comfort. Our great undertakings in
+      Courland and St. Petersburg have failed, it is true, and the Russian
+      empress has ordered me to be driven away and pursued. But the Invisible
+      Fathers have not forsaken me, as they know that I am a useful tool in
+      their hands. They have carefully provided me with money, passports, and
+      instructions. We have lost thousands, but we will regain them, for the
+      future is ours. I am protected by the order, and called to a new and
+      important mission in Paris, to strive for the sacred aim of the Church.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And have they no mission for me?&rdquo; asked Lorenza. &ldquo;Is there nothing
+      further for me to do in that city than to be a beautiful woman, and play
+      tricks for my dear husband?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great events await you in Paris, which we will aid you to prepare. The
+      Invisible Fathers send you before me to the Cardinal de Rohan. You are
+      going to Paris in the service of the revolution of minds. The carriage is
+      ordered, and you are to set off this very hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when are you going, Joseph?&rdquo; Lorenza asked, with a touch of
+      melancholy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall officially depart in an hour, but in reality at the same time
+      that the Baroness von Balmore leaves the hotel in her travelling-carriage.
+      Near the waiting-maid will a servant sit upon the box. I shall be he.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Officially you depart in an hour; what does that mean?&rdquo; Cagliostro
+      smiled. &ldquo;It is a long story and a comical one. Come, seat yourself by me
+      upon the sofa; repose your head upon me, and listen to what I will relate
+      to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII. MIRACLES AND SPIRITS.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Late in the afternoon of the same day a travelling-carriage drove up
+      before the hotel &ldquo;King of Portugal,&rdquo; in the Burgstrasse, with two large
+      black trunks strapped upon it behind the footman&rsquo;s box, and the postilion,
+      sitting by the coachman, playing the beautiful and popular air, &ldquo;Es ritten
+      drei Reuter cum Thore hinaus!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Count St. Julien descended the stairs, followed by the host, and nodded in
+      a lofty manner to the two waiters and hostler awaiting him at the
+      entrance, who returned it by a profound bow, at the same time not failing
+      to see the white hand extended with the trinkgeld.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The host himself closed the carriage door, and the count departed amid the
+      merry peals of the postilion, the former gazing after him with the
+      satisfaction of one who has made a good bargain. The servants watched it,
+      too, until it had disappeared around the corner of the next street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this instant the quivering tones of a post-horn were heard, and an open
+      caleche appeared and stopped before the hotel with two large black
+      travelling-trunks upon it, and the postilion upon the box blowing the
+      popular air, &ldquo;Es ritten drei Reuter zum Thore hinaus!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The host observed the empty carriage with a smile, but the servants asked
+      themselves astonished what it meant, and as they turned and saw Count St.
+      Julien descending the stairs, they were startled. He offered them the
+      usual trinkgeld, entered the carriage, and rolled away with a commanding
+      nod.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The host seemed speechless with astonishment, and stood as if rooted to
+      the spot. The servants stared after the carriage until it turned the
+      corner; when just then a post-horn was heard playing the agreeable melody
+      of &ldquo;Drei Reuter,&rdquo; and a travelling-carriage with two large black trunks
+      drove up to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The servants turned pale, looking shyly toward the stairs. Slowly and with
+      great dignity Count St. Julien descended, greeting them with a gentlemanly
+      nod as he passed, and, extending his white hand with a trinkgeld, mounted
+      his carriage, and drove away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The host stood as if stunned, outside the door, looking right and left
+      with unspeakable terror. The servants tremblingly fixed their eyes upon
+      the stairs, no longer possessing the power to move, but heard the
+      post-horn, and the carriage which drove up to the door the third time.
+      Slowly and proudly Count St. Julien advanced. It was the same cold, grave
+      face, with the thick black beard, and the powdered peruke, the curls of
+      which overshadowed the brow and cheeks. He wore exactly the same
+      dark-brown cloak over the black velvet dress. The white hand, with broad
+      lace wrist-ruffles, reached them also a trinkgeld.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This time the fellows had scarcely self-possession sufficient to take the
+      present, for every thing swam before their eyes, and their hearts one
+      moment almost ceased to beat, and then palpitated with the feverish
+      rapidity of terror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would run away,&rdquo; murmured the chief waiter, as Count St. Julien for the
+      fourth time drove away, &ldquo;if my feet were not riveted to the floor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I could move mine I would have gone long ago,&rdquo; groaned the second
+      waiter, the clear drops standing upon his forehead. &ldquo;It is witchcraft! Oh,
+      Heaven! they are coming again, playing the &lsquo;Drei Reuter.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The count descended the stairs for the fifth time, whispered to the
+      hostler, who was quite engrossed counting his money, handed the trinkgeld
+      to the pale fellows by the door, and mounted his carriage, driving away
+      amid the merry peals of the post-horn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Julius,&rdquo; murmured the steward, softly, &ldquo;give my hair a good pulling, that
+      I may awake from this horrible dream.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot,&rdquo; he whimpered, &ldquo;my hands and feet are lame. I cannot move.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; said the hostler, courageously stretching forth his hand, and
+      pulling it so vigorously that the steward was fully convinced of the
+      reality of things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the post-horn sounded the &ldquo;Drei Reuter;&rdquo; again the carriage stopped
+      before the door, and the count descended, giving to every one a gift like
+      the &ldquo;Maedchen aus der Fremde,&rdquo; and for the sixth time rolled away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are bewitched; it is a ghost from the infernal regions!&rdquo; groaned the
+      steward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot abide it any longer&mdash;I shall die!&rdquo; said the second waiter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not mind it,&rdquo; said the hostler, as he jingled the money; &ldquo;if they
+      are ghosts from hell, the eight groschen do not come from there, for they
+      are quite cool. See how&mdash;Ah, there comes the count again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the seventh time he passed down the stairway, by the servants, who
+      wore no longer standing but kneeling, which the count received as a proof
+      of their profound respect, and slipped the money into their hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Praise God, all good spirits!&rdquo; murmured the head waiter; but neither the
+      count nor the money seemed to be moved by the pious exhortation, for he
+      quietly entered his carriage, and the eight groschen lay in the servant&rsquo;s
+      hand, at which the hostler remarked that he would stand there all night if
+      the count would only continually pass by with groschen. It pleased the
+      count to descend the stairs yet twice more, divide the trinkgeld, and
+      mount his carriage. As he drove away the ninth time, it appeared as if the
+      Drei Reuter were determined to drive out of the gate and forsake the hotel
+      &ldquo;King of Portugal.&rdquo; The host waited awhile, and talked with the neighbors,
+      who, roused by the continual blast of the post-horn, were curious to know
+      how it happened that so many guests were departing by extra posts.
+      Whereupon the host, in a hollow, sepulchral voice, his eyes glaring, and
+      shrugging his shoulders, declared that there had been but one gentleman at
+      the hotel, but nine times he had seen him drive away, and the devil must
+      have a hand in the matter!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shaking his head, he returned to the hotel, and found the servants busily
+      counting their money, occasionally casting covetous looks toward the
+      stairs, as if they hoped the count would again descend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Exactly as Cagliostro had foretold, Minister Herzberg did not return from
+      Sans-Souci until late in the evening, and then found Wilhelmine&rsquo;s letter
+      in his cabinet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Immediately the police were instructed to arrest Count St. Julien at the
+      hotel &ldquo;King of Portugal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An hour later the chief of the police came to say that the count had
+      already been gone two hours. He repeated the account of the host,
+      corroborated by the servants, of nine different counts having driven away
+      from the hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzberg smiled. &ldquo;We have to deal with a very clever scoundrel,&rdquo; said he,
+      &ldquo;and it is no other than the so-called Count Cagliostro, who was lately
+      exposed as a bold trickster in Mittau and St. Petersburg, and about whose
+      arrest the Empress Catharine is very much exercised. It would be very
+      agreeable to the king to show this little attention to her imperial
+      highness, and trap the adroit pickpocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We might succeed in catching him in his flight,&rdquo; remarked the chief. &ldquo;For
+      the last six months the king has given orders that every passport should
+      be examined at the gates, and the route of the travellers noted down,
+      which is all registered and sent to the king. It would be very easy to
+      discover by which gate he departed, and his route, and then have him
+      pursued.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is well thought of, director; hasten to put it into execution, and
+      inform us of the result.&rdquo; He returned in an hour to the minister&rsquo;s
+      cabinet, shaking his head gravely. &ldquo;Your excellency, it is very strange,
+      but he is a wizard. This man has driven out of the nine gates at the same
+      hour and minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herzberg laughed. &ldquo;This is one of his tricks, and by it I recognize the
+      great necromancer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your excellency, this is no trickery, but witchery. It is impossible for
+      any one man to drive out of the nine gates at the same hour, in the same
+      carriage, with two large black trunks and a postilion blowing the same
+      melody, and provided with a correct passport, which he shows and is
+      recognized as Count St. Julien, who is going to Paris by Hamburg. Here are
+      the nine registers from the different gates, all the same, if I am not
+      bewitched and do not read straight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This trick does honor to the count,&rdquo; said Herzberg, smiling. &ldquo;To-morrow
+      you shall accompany me to Sans-Souci and read aloud the registers to the
+      king. Do you think it will be impossible to pursue the count now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should be very happy to follow your excellency&rsquo;s judgment in this
+      matter, and arrest the rascal in any way that you could point out,&rdquo; said
+      the director.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am convinced that he is in the city; and driving put of the nine gates
+      at the same time was the best manner to escape being discovered,&rdquo; said
+      Herzberg. &ldquo;He is concealed in some one of the houses of the brothers, and
+      we shall be obliged to let him escape this time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In order the more securely to carry out the initiation of Prince Frederick
+      William, in company with Bischofswerder and Woellner, Cagliostro had
+      arranged his pretended departure. For a long time the prince had expressed
+      an extreme desire to be received into the mysteries of the miraculous and
+      holy order, of which he had heard his friends speak with so much
+      reverence. But he had been put off from time to time with regrets and
+      shrugs of the shoulders, and expressions of the impossibility of granting
+      the request.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The spirits do not always appear even to the consecrated,&rdquo; said
+      Bischofswerder. &ldquo;They make themselves known after many fervent prayers and
+      implorings, and when we have withdrawn from every one who could entice us
+      to doubt or disbelief. I fear that it would be impossible to conjure the
+      spirits of the departed, so long as your highness honors a certain lady
+      with your particular favor, who ridicules the sublime order and mingles
+      with its enemies. How can they appear to those who have just been in the
+      company of a friend of the Illuminati and unbelievers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The spirit-world only reveals itself to the virtuous and pure,&rdquo; said
+      Woellner, in a harsh, dry voice. &ldquo;Its inhabitants cannot approach those
+      who are not chaste and innocent, for sin and vice surround them with a
+      thick fog, which keeps them at a distance from the clear atmosphere of the
+      sublime. If you would call up the spirits, you must remove this woman who
+      entices you from the path of virtue, and renders the sphere impure around
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Despite the warnings and the great wish the prince had to be received into
+      the spirit-world, and become a member of the highest grade of the
+      Rosicrucians, he could not resolve to forsake her who had been his friend
+      for ten years, and who had borne shame and degradation on his account,
+      refusing eligible and rich men rather than leave him and become a
+      legitimate wife. Wilhelmine was the beloved of his youth, the mother of
+      his two dear children, and she alone knew how to drive away the ennui
+      which pursued the prince, with her amiable, subtle wit. Nay, he could not
+      be so ungrateful, so heartless, as to reject her who had so tenderly loved
+      him when young and beautiful, now that the first bloom of youth and beauty
+      had faded!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bischofswerder and Woellner recognized this difficulty, and applied
+      themselves the more energetically for its removal. They supposed that the
+      unexpected arrival of Cagliostro would very naturally appear to the prince
+      as a special messenger, sent, without doubt, from the fathers, to
+      accomplish his conversion. They announced to the prince that the
+      Invisibles had taken pity upon his desire for knowledge, and had consented
+      to permit him to gaze into the regions of the blest, although he wandered
+      in the path of vice, and that he must hold himself in readiness to
+      accompany the messenger whenever he should be sent to call him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For this reason the crown prince had written to Wilhelmine that she should
+      not expect him until the following morning, and he did not quit his room
+      the entire day, with excited expectation awaiting the summons. As evening
+      set in the prince was cast down, and quite of the opinion that the
+      Invisibles did not deem him worthy to enter their pure presence, and
+      thought that Wilhelmine must be the hinderance. Whilst he was reflecting
+      whether to sacrifice his beloved to the salvation of his soul, the secret
+      door gently opened, and two men, masked and wrapped in black cloaks,
+      entered and placed themselves near the door. The prince did not remark
+      their entrance, and was quite frightened as he chanced to turn, and saw
+      these two immovable figures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With quivering voice he demanded their mission.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the same tone, as if one were an echo of the other, they answered, &ldquo;We
+      desire nothing, but you demand knowledge of the spirit-world, and would
+      have its mysteries revealed to you, which the Invisibles will now grant
+      you. Follow us, therefore!&rdquo; They reopened the secret door; one of the
+      masked preceded the prince, and the other followed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince shuddered at the thought that he might be rushing into some
+      unknown danger, and intrusting himself to those who would misuse his
+      confidence. He demanded to see their faces, declaring himself prepared to
+      follow, when acquainted with his guides.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would then be better to remain,&rdquo; replied one of the masked. &ldquo;He who
+      lacks confidence is not worthy of it, and he who trusts only the Visibles,
+      the Invisibles flee.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince recognized the voice of Bischofswerder, and smiled, but he knew
+      not that it was permitted him to hear it to inspire him with courage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, so let it be; the fathers shall see that I am a believer,&rdquo; cried
+      the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Immediately one of the brothers put his own cloak, three-cornered hat, and
+      mask upon his highness, still remaining cloaked and masked himself, much
+      to the astonishment of the passive prince. &ldquo;Come, now, the Invisibles
+      await you,&rdquo; said one of the masked. The prince stepped courageously into
+      the little corridor which led to the secret stairway, one brother
+      preceding him, causing a soft light to illumine their path, the other
+      following him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In silence they reached the side-door of the palace, where a close
+      carriage awaited them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you taking me?&rdquo; asked Frederick William, as he entered,
+      followed by the two brothers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Invisibles,&rdquo; answered a strange voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the prince essayed to begin a conversation, his only response being,
+      &ldquo;Purify your heart and pray.&rdquo; Silently they galloped over paved and
+      unpaved streets, the prince heartily repenting having been drawn into this
+      adventure. He thought of his charming and beloved Wilhelmine, and half
+      determined to give the command to drive to Charlottenburg. The fact of
+      Bischofswerder being with him, and fearful of appearing weak and wanting
+      in courage in the eyes of his friend and favorite, prevented him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After several hours&rsquo; drive, they stopped at the marble palace of Potsdam,
+      near the one which the prince was accustomed to occupy. His highness
+      looked cautiously around, and breathed more freely, as he felt that he was
+      now surely among friends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The white palace stood silent and deserted in the darkness, this palace at
+      Potsdam being only used for the guests of the king. The carriage stopped
+      at the side-door, where there was no sentinel, and they alighted, entering
+      the palace, winding along the corridors in the same order as before,
+      guided by the glimmering light of the one preceding. Solemn music, strange
+      ringing sounds, fell upon the ear as they advanced. Sometimes they were
+      sharp and cutting as glass, then threatening and penetrating as the wind,
+      shrieking and moaning, causing one to be very nervous if not terrified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The farther they proceeded the louder grew the sounds, and at intervals
+      groans, moans and wailings were heard, as of those waiting and imploring
+      for mercy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the brothers now opened a door, and then placing themselves upon
+      each side, the unknown voice announced to the prince that they had arrived
+      at the long-sought-for goal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have we come here for?&rdquo; asked the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To behold that which you have many times petitioned to be permitted to
+      see,&rdquo; replied Bischofswerder, gently encouraging and inspiring Frederick
+      William. &ldquo;The Invisibles have at last yielded to your wishes, and the
+      spirits which you summon will appear. If your courage fails you, and you
+      dread the presence of the departed, command to be reconducted to your
+      palace, and we will obey; but renounce forever the sublime happiness of
+      beholding the Invisibles and of holding communion with the spirit-world!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear not, but wish to be in the company of the spirits,&rdquo; answered the
+      prince, proudly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kneel,&rdquo; they commanded, permitting him to enter, &ldquo;and thrice summon in a
+      loud voice the names of three departed, who will answer your questions.
+      Beware of approaching them, for their glance is death and their breath
+      destruction! Therefore remain kneeling, as it becomes a mortal in the
+      presence of an immortal. Hope and pray, brother!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the door closed upon the prince, and he found himself in such
+      impenetrable darkness, he sank upon his knees, for he dared not advance,
+      and retreat was impossible, in spite of heart-quakings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The shrill, penetrating music ceased, and a voice from a distance called:
+      &ldquo;Summon thrice those that thou desirest to see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marcus Aurelius, Leibnitz, and the distinguished elector,&rdquo; called the
+      prince in a loud voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who summoned me?&rdquo; was responded in hollow, sepulchral tones, and directly
+      over the crown prince a blue, vaporous light was visible&mdash;at first
+      only a cloud, then by degrees increasing and condensing itself into a
+      human shape, until it took the form of a Roman warrior of the olden time;
+      no other than Marcus Aurelius, in helmet and coat-of-mail, with a pale,
+      earth-colored face and glaring eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who summoned me?&rdquo; repeated the figure. The prince&rsquo;s lips refused to
+      respond, and shuddering he gazed upon the corpse-like face, so exact in
+      feature to the old Roman emperor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You answer me not!&rdquo; thundered the voice, &ldquo;but I will tell you who you are&mdash;one
+      lost in sin and an apostate!&mdash;the crown prince of Prussia, a future
+      king, who will be called to govern a people, and knows not
+      self-government! Turn from the path of vice while it is yet time; rise
+      from the dust, that the ashes of retribution do not bury you in a living
+      tomb, like the sinful Pompeians. No monument marks the place of the
+      sinful; he sinks into the night of oblivion, or he is cursed by succeeding
+      generations. Therefore turn from the errors of sin. Rise to virtue, that
+      the blessed may approach you. I shudder in your presence. Woe to you! woe!
+      woe!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The cloud-portrait vanished, and darkness reigned for a moment. The prince
+      cried in anguish: &ldquo;I will hear no more; this air oppresses me&mdash;open
+      the door&mdash;I renounce communion with the spirits; I will go out!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The light reappeared in the dark room and another form hovered over the
+      prince&mdash;of grave, obscure face, with a great peruke, staring at him.
+      He recognized the distinguished philosopher Leibnitz, whom he had desired
+      to see, but who now filled him with unspeakable terror. Like the former
+      spirit, he also, when unanswered, reproached the erring prince, conjuring
+      him to return to virtue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the menacing ghost disappeared, the prince felt for the door, and shook
+      it with the power which terror lends, crying, &ldquo;Open, open!&rdquo; It opened not,
+      and the third summoned, the great elector, Frederick William, appeared,
+      with high, up-lifted arm, glittering eyes, advancing with angry mien,
+      shaking his lion&rsquo;s mane against the erring son of his house, whom he
+      menaced with curses and revenge, if he did not renounce the courtesan who
+      had seduced him to vice and unchastity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will become better,&rdquo; groaned the prince. &ldquo;I will perform the wish of
+      the spirits. Only have mercy on me&mdash;free me. Help! help! Open the
+      door, Bischofswerder, I will do better. Open the door!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This time it really opened, and a long train of dark, masked forms entered
+      the dusky room surrounding the prince, wringing their hands, imploring him
+      to turn from sin, and forsake the unholy woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They whimpered, they implored, sinking upon their knees, beating their
+      clinched hands, and weeping: &ldquo;Turn, beloved elect! Renounce Wilhelmine
+      Enke; renounce vice! Repulse the seductress, and turn your countenance to
+      Virtue which you have seen in all her beauty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will perform that which you demand,&rdquo; wept the prince, as the deathly
+      terror and nervous excitement made him yielding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Swear!&rdquo; cried the chorus of masks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear that Wilhelmine Enke shall no longer be my mistress. I swear by
+      all that is holy that I will renounce her! I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Voice failed him; there was a ringing and buzzing in his ears; every thing
+      swam before his eyes, and he sank fainting. The prince awoke after long
+      unconsciousness, and found himself upon his bed in the new palace at
+      Potsdam, Bischofswerder at his side, watching him with the tenderest
+      sympathy. He bent over him and pressed his hand to his lips with a cry of
+      delight. &ldquo;Heaven be praised; my dear prince, you have awaked to commence a
+      new life! You now belong to the virtuous and honorable, whom the Invisible
+      Fathers bless!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it true, Bischofswerder,&rdquo; said the prince, languidly, &ldquo;that I have
+      sworn to renounce Wilhelmine Enke, and never to love her more?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have sworn it by all that is holy, and all in heaven and on earth
+      have heard your oath, and there is joy thereat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince turned his head, that Bischofswerder might not see the tears
+      streaming down his cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIII. THE RETURN HOME.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The beautiful house which Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen possessed upon the
+      finest street in Berlin, &ldquo;Unter den Linden,&rdquo; had been newly arranged and
+      splendidly ornamented since his marriage and elevation to a title, and now
+      awaited his arrival. For many weeks mechanics and artists had been busily
+      employed; and the good housekeeper, old Trude, saw with bewildering
+      astonishment the daily increasing splendor of gilded furniture, costly
+      mirrors and chandeliers, soft carpets, tapestries, and gold-embroidered
+      curtains, exquisite paintings and statuary, which the possessor had
+      forwarded from Italy, and many other objects of art standing upon gilt and
+      marble tables.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every thing was completed. The bustle of the busy workmen had ceased, and
+      Trude slowly wandered through the solitary rooms, examining every article.
+      Her face bespoke dissatisfaction, and a smile of contempt was visible
+      there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miserable trash, for which they have sold my poor child!&rdquo; murmured the
+      old woman. &ldquo;For these worthless, glittering toys have they ruined the
+      happiness of the dear innocent heart, and on them the guilt will fall if
+      her soul is lost! I remark how she is changed in her letters since her
+      shameful, mercenary marriage. She writes of nothing but the arrangement of
+      her house, and speaks as if the beauty and costliness of things were only
+      to be thought of, and there is not even a confidential, heart-felt word
+      for her old Trude. It would seem as if she had forgotten all former
+      objects of interest. Oh, what trouble and sorrows the rich have! That
+      good-for-nothing money hardens their hearts and makes them evil and
+      selfish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The loud ringing of a bell sounded through the solitary drawing-rooms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is, undoubtedly, the general&rsquo;s wife,&rdquo; said Trude, shaking her head.
+      &ldquo;She rings as if she would announce the king, with her nose turned up so
+      high, or as if she were the money-sacks of her son-in-law!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude was right; her shrill voice was heard ordering the steward, who had
+      but just arrived. &ldquo;It is abominable, it is unheard of!&rdquo; she cried, as with
+      a heavy push she burst open the door; &ldquo;this man presumes to contradict me,
+      and&mdash;ah, there you are, Trude!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here I am,&rdquo; she answered; &ldquo;were you looking for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and I would ask you if my orders are not the same as if given by
+      Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen or his wife, or have you instructed the new
+      steward otherwise, which, it is laughable to say, you have engaged?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I have not instructed him thus. Dear Marie has not ordered it in her
+      letter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Marie,&rdquo; repeated Frau von Werrig. &ldquo;How can you permit yourself to
+      speak so intimately of the rich Baroness von Ebenstreit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very true, it is not right,&rdquo; sighed Trude; &ldquo;I beg pardon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came here to see if every thing was in readiness, and ordered the
+      steward to ornament the doors and corridors with garlands of flowers; he
+      has had the boldness to tell me he dares not do it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is right, Frau von Leuthen. Baroness Ebenstreit von Leuthen (have I
+      got the title right?) wrote and expressly forbade any festivity to greet
+      her arrival. Here is the letter&mdash;I carry it around with me; I will
+      read it to you: &lsquo;I expressly forbid any manifestation whatever to be made
+      at our return, whether of garlands or flowers, as they are only hypocrisy
+      and falsehood. I wish no one there to receive me&mdash;remember, Trude, no
+      one! Inform my family that, as soon as I have recovered from the fatigue
+      of the journey, I will make them the visit of duty with the baron.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What cold, heartless words are these! One could hardly believe that a
+      daughter was writing of her parents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On her wedding-day she perhaps forgot that she had any,&rdquo; said Trude,
+      shrugging her shoulders, &ldquo;and she should not be at once reminded of that
+      trying occasion on her return. I expect her every moment, as the courier
+      has already arrived an hour ago, and it would be better&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot be so impudent as to tell me to leave? Indeed, I will not be
+      prevented from waiting to receive my only child that I have not seen for
+      three years. One can well believe that a mother would be impatient to
+      embrace her dear daughter! I have no other happiness but my beloved child,
+      and I long, unspeakably, to press her to my heart and tell her my sorrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sorrow! is it possible that Frau von Werrig has any griefs? I supposed
+      there was nothing in the world troubled her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet I am very much tormented. I can well tell you, Trude, as you are
+      familiar with our circumstances,&rdquo; sighed the countess. &ldquo;You know the
+      general is tolerably well; the journeys to Wiesbaden and Teplitz have
+      cured him of the gout unfortunately, so that he can go about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sorry for that, Frau von Werrig?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly I am, Trude, as he has returned to his former habits,
+      frequenting the society of drinking-houses and gamblers. Imagine the
+      general played yesterday, lost all his ready money, and that was not
+      enough, but signed away the year&rsquo;s pension from Herr von Ebenstreit,
+      during which time we have nothing but the miserable army annuity to live
+      upon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then your income will be less to live upon than formerly, for dear Marie
+      earned something with her flowers and lessons which she gave to you,
+      although she was never thanked for it. She was then my dear good Marie, so
+      industrious and patient, and worked untiringly for her parents! Then she
+      forgot them not, and toiled early and late, and, oh, it breaks my heart to
+      think of it, and I must cry in your presence!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She raised the corner of her dark-blue apron and dried her eyes, holding
+      it there as she continued to weep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What an ugly apron!&rdquo; cried the countess, &ldquo;and how meanly you are dressed
+      altogether! Is that the way you intend to go looking as the housekeeper of
+      a rich and genteel family? Go, Trude, quickly, and put something better
+      on, that you may receive your master and mistress in a suitable dress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall remain as I am, for I am very properly dressed. It may not be
+      suitable for a housekeeper, but it becomes old Trude, and it is my Sunday
+      frock, which I always wore when I was maid-of-all-work to you. You may not
+      remember it, but dear Marie (I should say Baroness von Ebenstreit) will,
+      perhaps, and it may recall her little room in the garret, and then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then she will at last think, Trude, how we took care of her, and how
+      thankful she ought to be to her parents that they married her to a rich
+      man. If Marie sees it at last&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You forget with whom you speak, Frau von Werrig,&rdquo; Trude interrupted her,
+      scornfully, &ldquo;and that it does not become you to speak of Marie to old
+      Trude, but you should remember her title.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, when Baroness von Ebenstreit enters this costly house, she
+      must understand that her mother was mindful of her best interests, and
+      that she owes all this to her; and you, Trude, must remind her of it, and
+      tell her about my dreadful trial with her father, and that it is my
+      daughter&rsquo;s duty to release me from it, and beg her husband not to deduct
+      the gambling-debt from the pension, but pay it this once. For it would be
+      a dreadful injustice to make me suffer for the general&rsquo;s rage for play,
+      and show but little gratitude for the riches which I brought her. You will
+      tell my daughter all this, Trude, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not tell her any thing at all, Frau von Werrig,&rdquo; interrupted.
+      Trude, warmly. &ldquo;May my good genius keep me from that, and burdening my
+      conscience with such falsehoods.&mdash;Hark! A carriage is coming, and a
+      post-horn sounded. They have arrived!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Trude hurried out just as they drove up to the door. The steward and
+      two servants in livery rushed down the steps to assist them to alight, and
+      Trude also to greet her favorite, who was now so pale, grave, and chilling
+      in her appearance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The large eyes of the lady rested with cold indifference upon the old
+      woman, whose eyes were turned to her with the tenderest expression. &ldquo;I
+      thank you,&rdquo; she said, coldly. &ldquo;Husband! I beg you to give me your arm.&rdquo;
+       Proudly she passed the statuary, and over the soft carpets without
+      comment, or even a word for old Trude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The steward and housekeeper followed the silent couple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall I take you to your room first?&rdquo; asked Ebenstreit, &ldquo;or will you do
+      me the pleasure to look at the newly-arranged drawing-rooms?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; she replied, with indifference. &ldquo;We will first look at the
+      drawing-rooms, as we shall probably receive much company this winter, and
+      they are of the first importance. You know that I dislike solitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, I recall that we are very seldom alone!&rdquo; sighed her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be fearful if we were,&rdquo; replied his wife, with marked
+      indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The steward just now opened the little door of the ante-room, sparkling
+      with chandeliers and mirrors. &ldquo;Ah! this is really beautiful, and well
+      chosen,&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, looking about with an air of great pride and
+      satisfaction. &ldquo;Tell me, Marie, is it not worthy of you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Glancing coldly around, she replied: &ldquo;It does not please at all. The
+      furniture is very costly, and reminds one of the parvenu. Every thing
+      recalls the riches of the newly-titled banker.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her husband&rsquo;s brow contracted, but he did not trust himself to contest his
+      dissatisfaction with his cold, proud wife, but sought another vent for it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very unkind, Marie. Have the goodness to tell me how you, with
+      these severe ideas, can suffer that Trude for a moment should appear
+      before us in this poor-looking dress which, indeed, does not recall any
+      wealth!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Frau von Ebenstreit&rsquo;s eyes glanced quickly over the old who, she said, was
+      the only object which did not bespeak the gaudiness of newly-acquired
+      wealth, but she appeared as the respectable servant of an old and noble
+      family in fitting dress. &ldquo;Remain as you are, Trude, and do not let
+      yourself be misled by our follies! I&mdash;but what is that I see?&rdquo; she
+      cried as the steward opened the next door at the silent nod of her
+      husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my beloved children, there you are at last; after three years&rsquo; 
+      absence I have the happiness to embrace you, my only daughter,&rdquo; cried Frau
+      von Werrig, as she approached them with outstretched arms and an
+      affectionate smile, essaying to throw her arms around Marie&rsquo;s neck, who
+      waved her back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My child, my child,&rdquo; whimpered the mother, &ldquo;is it possible that my
+      daughter can receive me thus after so long a separation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Turning to Trude, Marie asked her, with a reproving look and tone, if she
+      had received her letter, or if she had forgotten her express commands that
+      no one but the servants should be in the house to receive them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not forget it, my lady, and I have read the orders to Frau von
+      Werrig, but she&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Knew that this wish had no reference to her, as she is her mother&mdash;Tell
+      me, my beloved son, is it not very natural and fitting that I should be
+      here to receive you?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I find it a matter of course,&rdquo; answered Von Ebenstreit, to whom it
+      appeared a relief to find an ally in the mother against his proud and
+      beautiful wife. &ldquo;I rejoice to see our dear mother here, and I beg Marie
+      will join me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie cast an angry glance toward her husband, which so confused and
+      perplexed him, that he looked down. Then advancing toward the
+      drawing-room, with her usual cold demeanor, without further comment upon
+      the ostentatious furniture, she commanded her husband to follow, who
+      obeyed, giving his arm to his mother-in-law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, this is glorious!&rdquo; he cried, smiling. &ldquo;What splendor, what luxury!
+      Tell me, my dear mother, is not this beautiful reception-room very
+      aristocratically and appropriately fitted up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should think a princess or a queen might be satisfied with it,&rdquo; she
+      cried, with enthusiasm. &ldquo;Even in royal palaces there is nothing of the
+      kind to compare to this gold-embroidered tapestry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Baron,&rdquo; said Marie, commandingly, &ldquo;have the kindness to dismiss the
+      steward. I wish to speak with you and Frau von Werrig.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The steward slipped out without waiting to be sent, and Trude stood near
+      the door, turning to the young baroness, as if to ask if she might remain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you not hear, Trude?&rdquo; cried the mother, impatiently. &ldquo;Tell her to
+      go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remain, Trude,&rdquo; said Marie, quietly. &ldquo;You are familiar with the past. I
+      have nothing to deny to you; shut the door and stay here.&mdash;And now,&rdquo;
+       she continued, as her voice lost its gentleness, when she addressed her
+      mother, &ldquo;if it is agreeable to you, I should like to have an understanding
+      with you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my child,&rdquo; sighed the mother, &ldquo;how strangely altered you are! You
+      address me, your mother, as Frau von Werrig, and you speak to Ebenstreit
+      in a very formal manner, who has been your dear, faithful husband for
+      three years. Oh, my darling son, what does this ceremonious manner mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The very first hour, after our marriage, that we were alone my dear Marie
+      severely reproved me for having addressed her in an intimate, affectionate
+      manner, like the common class, as she called it, and I have never done so
+      since.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must be convinced that I am right,&rdquo; said Marie, calmly, &ldquo;and that it
+      does not become two beings, who neither love nor esteem each other, and
+      who live in the most ceremonious manner, to address one another with
+      endearing epithets. At any rate we are not accountable to any one, and
+      Frau von Leuthen must know the relations we bear to each other in the
+      so-called marriage, as it is her arrangement for the most part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I pride myself upon it,&rdquo; she cried, with animation. &ldquo;I have brought
+      about this marriage, which is good fortune to us, and I hope my daughter
+      will prove her gratitude, and my son will show me the affection he has so
+      often sworn to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know what my husband may have sworn to you, but permit me to
+      say, I do not understand whom you, Frau von Werrig, address as daughter
+      here; if you accidentally refer to me, you are in error; I have never
+      possessed a mother to love me, although formerly, during long years I
+      endeavored with tender assiduity to win a parent&rsquo;s heart. That is long
+      past, however. The very day that I married Herr von Ebenstreit I renounced
+      all family ties, and resolved to be self-reliant. My husband will witness
+      that he has never known me to yield, and that I have always been firm and
+      resolute in my decision.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one would doubt it,&rdquo; replied Ebenstreit, timidly. &ldquo;We had a very
+      strange marriage, which scarce deserves the name. We resemble more two
+      companions who have joined in business, the one side reluctantly, and the
+      other joyfully. I long for a happy married life, which has been quite
+      impossible thus far.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And will be to the end, which you will yet learn; and Fran von Werrig
+      should understand it, as she brought about the union, and should not be in
+      doubt as to the conclusion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I acknowledge that I am almost speechless and quite paralyzed with that
+      which I see and hear. I should doubt that this cold, proud woman before me
+      were my daughter, if it were not for the name she bears, and her
+      features.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That which you and my husband have caused me to become. He knew that I
+      neither loved nor esteemed him, and that a union with him seemed so
+      unendurable that I would have sought refuge in death, if I had not vowed
+      to support life to attain the aim which I imposed upon myself. That is all
+      past; it is the future which we must arrange. I am glad that you are here,
+      Frau von Werrig, that we may understand each other once for all; but you
+      came against my wishes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must excuse it, dear Marie. It was the longing of mother&rsquo;s heart
+      which led me hither; the love&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A cold, contemptuous glance of the large eyes caused the mother to cease,
+      and quail before her daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After a short pause Marie continued: &ldquo;I wish to exercise alone and
+      unhindered the executive rights of a lady in her own house. Do you
+      acknowledge the justice of this, my husband?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perfectly and unconditionally, dear Marie. You know that I have no other
+      will but yours, which is my highest happiness to submit myself to in all
+      things, always hoping to gain your love and win your heart; that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That this woman has changed to stone,&rdquo; said Marie, coldly, pointing to
+      her mother. &ldquo;As you then recognize me as the mistress of this house, I
+      shall avail myself of my just right, and no one can prevent me, for I
+      stand alone, absolved from all family ties. By my birth and your riches, I
+      shall occupy the position of a woman of the world, and as such I shall
+      live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am delighted to hear it, Marie,&rdquo; cried her husband. &ldquo;For this reason I
+      have had the drawing-rooms furnished in the most costly manner, and I
+      shall be proud to receive the aristocratic society who will come to render
+      homage to my wife, as they have done everywhere in Paris, London, Rome,
+      Madrid, and St. Petersburg. We have frequented the highest circle in all
+      these cities, and they have crowded our drawing-rooms, charmed with the
+      beauty, distinguished manners, tone of the world, of your daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg of you to make but one subject the sole object of conversation,&rdquo;
+       said Marie, harshly. &ldquo;I have said that I will avail myself of the
+      privilege, as mistress of this house, of receiving no one whom I do not
+      wish to see, and no one can enter without consent. Is it clearly
+      understood, husband?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, somewhat agitated; &ldquo;it is the right of every
+      housekeeper&mdash;I understand you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is also clear to me,&rdquo; cried Frau von Werrig, with difficulty
+      suppressing her wrath. &ldquo;But I will await the decisive word, and see
+      whether it is possible for a daughter to have the insolent presumption to
+      drive he mother from her house!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have already informed you that I have no mother, and that no one has
+      the right to call me daughter. If you await my decision, you shall now
+      hear it; you are not included among those that I wish to receive in my
+      house!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, dear Marie, you are cruel!&rdquo; cried her husband, quite frightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is a degenerate, good-for-nothing creature!&rdquo; cried the mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I am so, who has caused it but you, both of you? Who broke my heart,
+      and crushed it under foot until it ceased to feel, and turned to stone?
+      Bear the consequences of your cruelty and heartlessness! I cannot change
+      it, and I repeat, Frau von Werrig has not the right to enter this house,
+      or to remain here any longer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Scalding tears fell from the mother&rsquo;s eyes as she shrieked, &ldquo;She drives me
+      from her house!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am only treating you as you behaved to one of the noblest and best of
+      men,&rdquo; replied Marie, voice and look betraying her deep feeling. &ldquo;You
+      thrust from your door, with scorn and contempt, a man worthy of your
+      esteem and recognition, although you knew that my heart was breaking. I am
+      only following your example and exercising my just rights, and am less
+      guilty than you are, as neither of us has need of the respect or esteem of
+      the other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you suffer this, my son? Do you allow any one in your presence to
+      treat me so shamefully? After all, it is your house; do speak and exercise
+      your right as master here: tell your wife that I am her mother, and you,
+      my adopted son, who bears my name, and that I have the just right to come
+      here as often as it pleases me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak your mind to Frau von Werrig,&rdquo; said Marie, as Ebenstreit remained
+      silent. &ldquo;Decide which shall remain, as one or the other of us must leave;
+      you are perfectly free to choose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, naturally, there is no choice left me,&rdquo; replied Ebenstreit,
+      despondingly. &ldquo;I declare myself for my wife, of course, who is the noblest
+      and proudest beauty in Berlin, and will make my house the centre of
+      attraction to the aristocracy, nobility, and wealth. This is my greatest
+      pride, and to secure this I wooed my beautiful bride, and have submitted
+      to all the sorrow and humiliation which have been my portion. If I must
+      choose between the mother and daughter, I naturally prefer the latter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He abandons me also!&rdquo; cried the mother. &ldquo;You are an ungrateful, wretched
+      man! You forget that you owe every thing to me, and that without me you
+      were a miserable mercenary, whose stupidity and tediousness were the
+      ridicule of every one, and you had never gained the entrance to a genteel
+      house. What have you now become? A high-born man, whose house every one
+      will crowd, and who could even appear at court, as he bears our noble and
+      distinguished name. To whom do you owe all this, but to me alone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God in heaven, Thou hearest it!&rdquo; cried Marie, solemnly, with uplifted
+      arms. &ldquo;She acknowledges that she alone has brought this misfortune upon
+      me, and in this hour I stand justified.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, Frau von Werrig,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, haughtily; &ldquo;you are going too
+      far. After my fortune, I thank you for my position. I am certainly of
+      insignificant birth, but I am ambitious and rich. I said to myself, &lsquo;Money
+      can bring about all that I wish,&rsquo; and you see it has accomplished it. My
+      wealth procured me a title, a splendid house, a beautiful wife, and a
+      position in society. I acknowledge that you aided me in the carrying out
+      of my plans, but you would not have done it, if I had not been in a
+      position to pay you. You receive a very considerable annuity from me,
+      therefore you cannot accuse me of ingratitude, but must confess that you
+      have driven a very good bargain. You must forgive me if I beg of you to
+      end this painful scene.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That means that I must leave,&rdquo; said Frau von Werrig, mildly, remembering
+      the gambling debt and the annuity. &ldquo;Very well, I will go, and promise you
+      never to return, upon two conditions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have the goodness to communicate them,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The first is, pay the gambling-debt of my husband, who has played away
+      the entire sum you allow us yearly, and do not deduct it from our income.
+      The second is, increase your allowance five hundred thalers, without
+      letting the general know it, and pay it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is impossible,&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, terrified. &ldquo;You mistake me for a
+      Croesus, whose wealth is inexhaustible. If this expenditure and demand
+      increase, my colossal fortune will be entirely wasted, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You exaggerate,&rdquo; interrupted Marie, with a peculiar brilliancy in her
+      eyes. &ldquo;Such wealth as yours is never-ending, and the banking business,
+      which you are still engaged in under another name, is an inexhaustible
+      source of wealth. I beg you to accept these conditions, that we may at
+      last be at peace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, to whom the words of Marie sounded as the
+      sweetest music. &ldquo;I will then accord your wishes, and you shall have the
+      five hundred thalers for yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For me alone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, for yourself alone, Frau von Werrig.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who vouches for the fulfilment of your promise?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My word, Frau von Werrig.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no confidence but in a written promise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will have it made out, and bring you the document to-morrow
+      morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then our business is finished, and I can go.&mdash;Farewell, baroness;
+      this is my last word to you. I cursed you from the moment you came into
+      being. If you had been a son, the rich estate in trust of my family would
+      have passed to you, of which I was the natural heir. As it was, it went to
+      a distant relative, and we received nothing. Therefore your parents could
+      not rejoice at your birth, and we only pardoned you when you married a
+      rich man, who could free us from want, and now the separation is no grief
+      to us. You have always been a disagreeable burden, and I am only quit of a
+      discomfort, and renounce forever the sight of you.&mdash;Give me your arm,
+      my son, and accompany me at least to the threshold of your house, that you
+      may be able to say to this cold-hearted viper, that she is forever rid of
+      the sight of her mother, who will never think of her but with chilling
+      contempt.&rdquo; She seized Ebenstreit by the arm, who had not the courage to
+      resist her, and drew him along with her, casting a look of supreme disgust
+      at old Trude, who stood pale and sad near the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIV. BEHIND THE MASK.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      As the door closed, and Marie found herself alone with her old friend and
+      nurse, a peculiar change was visible in her sad face; something of its
+      former sunny radiance brightened its usually sorrowful expression, and she
+      turned to greet Trude with the smile of earlier, happier days, though it
+      was tinged with sadness and grief. Impulsively she threw her arms around
+      her faithful nurse, kissing her, and, with quivering lip, whispering: &ldquo;A
+      greeting and a blessing for you, dear mother! Take me to your kind,
+      disinterested heart, and let me there find repose from all this torture
+      and love the poor lost one, who&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew suddenly back, her face assuming its usually cold, look as she
+      heard her husband enter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is gone, dear Marie. I hope that you are gratified with my decision,
+      and perceive therein a proof of my excessive love and esteem for you,&rdquo;
+       said Ebenstreit, drawing a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not desire this polite evidence of it,&rdquo; she coldly responded. &ldquo;We
+      have solemnized our entrance into this house in a fitting manner, and the
+      important matter remaining for us is to make known our arrival to the
+      society of Berlin. The horses purchased in Alexandria, and the new
+      carriage from London, have already arrived&mdash;have they not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My book-keeper so informed me a fortnight since, when we were in Paris,
+      and complained of the enormous sum which he had to disburse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must forbid him such a liberty once for all,&rdquo; said she, and the
+      strange blending of joy and scorn was visible in her face. &ldquo;It is
+      inadmissible for a subordinate to presume to complain to his master, or
+      advise him. He has only to listen and obey. This all your inferiors must
+      understand, and know that they will be dismissed who murmur or advise!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will instruct them accordingly,&rdquo; he sighed, &ldquo;though I must confess my
+      head-man well understands financial operations, and during the many years
+      that he has been with me has won the right to be consulted and advised
+      with.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then prove your gratitude as it becomes a true cavalier and a nobleman,&rdquo;
+       dictated Marie. &ldquo;Settle his salary as an annuity upon him, and replace
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he receives very great wages, and is still very active, though
+      advanced.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more the reason to pension him, that he may repose his remaining
+      years and enjoy the fruit of his labors. But do as you like. I have only
+      told you how a noble cavalier would act; if you choose to bargain and
+      haggle, it is your own affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven keep me from acting otherwise than as a nobleman!&rdquo; cried
+      Ebenstreit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie nodded assent, desiring that the carriage might be ordered, with the
+      Arab horses. &ldquo;We will make our visits at once, as I will, for the first
+      time, open our large house for a soiree to-morrow evening,&rdquo; she added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that is charming!&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, delighted. &ldquo;I shall at last have
+      the opportunity of seeing the aristocratic Berlin society, and enter upon
+      the rank of my new title.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she replied, with an expression of irrepressible scorn, &ldquo;you will
+      have this enjoyment. Send me the steward, I wish to give him a list of the
+      invited guests. You can add to it at your pleasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no one to invite,&rdquo; cried her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No matter! Make the necessary preparations. I will go to my room to make
+      my toilet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you not allow me to accompany you? You are not yet familiar with the
+      house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trude will show it to me, and you can at the same time give the orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nodding proudly to Ebenstreit, she told Trude to precede her, following
+      the old woman through the suite of brilliant rooms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is my lady&rsquo;s dressing-room,&rdquo; said Trude, entering one ornamented
+      with mirrors, laces, and gauzes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The French waiting-maid was busy within, unpacking the large trunks filled
+      with silk and satin dresses which had been purchased by the dozens in
+      Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lay out an elegant visiting toilet; I will return directly, after Trude
+      has shown me the house,&rdquo; They entered the adjoining chamber, Marie&rsquo;s
+      sleeping-room and found the German maid arranging the lace and silk
+      coverings for her mistress to repose herself after the long journey. Marie
+      betrayed no inclination for repose, but questioned Trude as to whither the
+      other door led to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Into the little corridor, baroness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I not order that there should be but one entrance to my
+      sleeping-room, and that from the dressing-room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your commands have been strictly obeyed,&rdquo; replied Trude. &ldquo;The only door
+      from the corridor leads to my two rooms, and there is but one entrance to
+      them upon the other side, which can be securely fastened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Into the simple, quiet room, at the baroness&rsquo;s request, Trude opened the
+      door, saying, &ldquo;Here we can be alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie pointed silently to the second door, and the old woman nodded: &ldquo;That
+      is it,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;I have done every thing as you directed. After you
+      left, they sent me the furniture of your little garret-room, which I have
+      arranged exactly as it stood there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Marie opened the door and found herself in the small room, so like the
+      one where she had made flowers, given lessons, consoled by her only
+      friend, Trude, her pride and reserve vanished. Sinking upon her knees, as
+      if crushed, she gave way to her long-pent-up grief in one cry of anguish,
+      clinging to Trude, and weeping bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here I am, my faithful nurse, returned to you more wretched and miserable
+      than when I left: then, I felt that I could scorn the world, and now I
+      despise myself. Oh, Trude, they have caused my wretchedness, they have
+      made me selfish and unkind. I was contented until now, and rejoiced in my
+      misery, and triumphantly thought of the time when I was wont to bewail my
+      broken heart and lost soul. Once more with you, and surrounded with the
+      souvenirs of my girlhood, I feel a horror of myself, and could sink in
+      shame and contrition. I have become as bad as they are. Can you forgive
+      the hard-hearted daughter who banished her own mother from her house? I
+      felt that I could not endure her presence, and feared that an inveterate
+      rancor and hate would overpower me, and that I should curse her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She deserves it, my poor child,&rdquo; whispered Trude, the tears streaming
+      down her cheeks. &ldquo;She has just told you that she never loved you, and in
+      this painful scene she thought only of bargaining and making money. God
+      has heard her and forgiven you as I do, and I beg and implore Him to
+      punish those who have made you so wretched, and that He will have no mercy
+      upon them, as they have shown none to you. It breaks my heart to see you
+      so changed, and I can hardly believe this cold, haughty lady is my Marie.
+      In your tears I recognize you, and I bless God that you can weep; your
+      grief proves to me that you are yet the child of my heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh Trude, you know not how I have longed to see you; it was my only
+      consolation in these painful years. When I doubted every human being, then
+      I thought of you, and was comforted and sustained.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And was there no one else to think of, my child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she gently murmured, &ldquo;I thought of him. Tell me all you know about
+      him, and hide nothing from me in this hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you would ask me, and I went to Director Gedicke yesterday, to
+      inform myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you hear? Tell me the most important. Does he live? Is he
+      restored to health?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He lives, but, for one year, he was so wretched that he could not teach;
+      now he is better. Herr Gedicke went himself to Spandau, immediately after
+      the wedding, and brought him back with him, relating as forbearingly and
+      carefully as possible the circumstances of your marriage, and of your
+      sacrificing yourself for him alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did he receive it? What did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. His eyes were fixed, and his lips uttered not a sound. This
+      lasted for weeks, and suddenly he became excited, enraged, and they were
+      obliged to bind him to keep him from injuring himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me no more,&rdquo; cried Marie, shuddering. &ldquo;I thought myself stronger,
+      nay, heartless, and yet it seems as if a hand of iron were tearing,
+      rending my soul!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is well,&rdquo; said Trude, gently; &ldquo;you must awaken from this hardened
+      indifference; giving way to your grief in tears will soften your heart,
+      and it will again be penetrated with the love of God and mankind. I will
+      tell you every thing; you ought to know how poor, dear Moritz suffered.
+      After he vented his rage he became melancholy, and withdrew to Halle in
+      solitude, living in a hay-loft. His favorite books and an old piano were
+      his only companions; no one presumed to intrude him, and they even
+      conveyed his food secretly to him, shoving it through a door. He talked
+      aloud to himself for hours long, and at night sang so touchingly,
+      accompanying himself upon the piano, that those who listened wept.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie wept also&mdash;scalding tears trickled through her fingers as she
+      lay upon the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Trude continued: &ldquo;Moritz lived in this way one year; his friends knew how
+      he was suffering, and they proved in their deeds how much they loved and
+      esteemed him. The teachers at the Gymnasium divided his hours of
+      instruction among them, that he should not forfeit his place and lose his
+      salary. Even the king showed great sympathy for him, sending to inquire
+      for him. Herr Gedicke visited him frequently at Halle; and once when about
+      to mount the ladder to the hay-loft he met Moritz descending, carefully
+      dressed, in a reasonable, gentle mood, and then he returned with him to
+      Berlin. There was great rejoicing in the college over his return, and they
+      feted him, witnessing so much love for him that it was really touching. He
+      has been promoted to professor, and at the express command of the king he
+      teaches the young Prince Frederick William in Latin and Greek. Oh, he is
+      so much esteemed and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And is married I hope,&rdquo; murmured Marie. &ldquo;Is he not happily married,
+      Trude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Herr Gedicke says he could marry a wealthy girl, for he is a great
+      favorite, and is invited into the most distinguished society. He repels
+      every one, and has become a woman-hater.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He hates them&mdash;does that mean that he hates me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he thoroughly scorns and despises you; so much so that Herr Gedicke
+      says you should know of it, and keep out of his way. He has sworn to
+      publicly show his contempt for you, and therefore his friends wish you to
+      be apprised of it, and not encounter him in society.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is well, I thank you,&rdquo; said Marie, rising; &ldquo;I will act accordingly.
+      Kiss me once more, my dear mother, and let me repose my weary head upon
+      your bosom. Ah, Trude, what a sorrow life is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will yet learn to love it again, Marie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I thought that I could sink so low, I would kill myself this very
+      hour. I know myself better, and only for revenge do I live. Hush! say
+      nothing more. Look at me! I am cursed, and there in those gaudy rooms in
+      my purgatory; here is my paradise, and here the wicked demon may dare to
+      change into the sad, wretched wife, who mourns the happy days already
+      flown, and weeps the inconsolable future. Oft will I come here in the
+      night when those sleep who think me so proud and happy, and you alone
+      shall behold me as I am. Now I must back to purgatory.&mdash;Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A half hour later a splendid carriage drove from the house of Herr
+      Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The people upon the street stood in wondering
+      admiration of the beautiful Arab horses with the costly silver-mounted
+      harness, and sought to catch a glimpse of the occupants of the carriage,
+      an insignificant, meagre, blond-haired man, who appeared like a servant
+      beside the lovely pale wife, though proud and indifferent, who kept her
+      eyes fixed steadily before her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The chasseur, with his waving plumes, sat upon the box beside the
+      rich-liveried coachman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the married couple returned from their drive, having left their cards
+      at the most distinguished houses in Berlin, the baroness handed the list
+      of guests to be invited to the baron to examine. He glanced hastily over
+      it, assuring her that every thing should be directed as she desired,
+      deferring all to her superior knowledge. Suddenly he seemed confused, even
+      frightened. &ldquo;What is the matter? What were you about to remark?&rdquo; asked
+      Marie, indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was in error. I have, without doubt, read it wrong. I beg pardon for a
+      foolish blunder, but will you tell me this name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie bent forward to look at the paper which her husband handed her, and,
+      pointing with her finger, read &ldquo;Professor Philip Moritz.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you intend to invite him?&rdquo; asked Ebenstreit, quite alarmed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why should I not? He belongs to the circle of friends and acquaintances,
+      and it is natural that I should include him. Moreover, there is not a
+      little gossip, and it is necessary to silence it. If you are not of my
+      opinion, strike out the name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all, dearest. On the contrary, you are perfectly right, and I
+      admire you for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then give the list to the butler, for it is quite time that the
+      invitations were given out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXV. THE CURSE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The evening of the soiree had arrived. In quick succession drove the
+      carriages up the broad entrance to the mansion of Herr Ebenstreit, The
+      curious street public pressed in compact masses near the gate to peep in,
+      or at least catch a fugitive glance of the ladies alighting from their
+      carriages, who were received by the butler at the foot of the carpeted
+      steps. A host of gold-bespangled footmen lined the entrance upon each
+      side, which was ornamented with the most exquisite hot-house plants,
+      filling the air with perfume.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two tall, stately footmen, with broad gold shoulder-bands and large gilt
+      batons, stood at the door of the anteroom, which was brilliantly
+      illuminated with chandeliers and side-lights, reflected in the numerous
+      mirrors. The anteroom led into the reception-room by wide folding-doors,
+      where the names were given to the usher, who announced them in a
+      stentorian voice in the drawing-room. There stood the Baron von Ebenstreit
+      to receive the guests, all smiles, and with bustling assiduity accompany
+      them to the adjoining drawing-room to present them to the baroness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Among the select company were conspicuous the most distinguished names of
+      the aristocracy. Generals and staff-officers, countesses and baronesses
+      were crowded together, with the ladies of the financial world, near
+      ministers and counsellors in this gorgeous saloon, which was the delight
+      and admiration of the envious, and excited the tongues of the slanderous.
+      Those acquainted gathered in the window-niches and cosy corners,
+      maliciously criticising the motley crowd, and eminently consoled with the
+      sure prospect of the ruin of the late banker, surrounding himself with
+      such unbecoming splendor and luxury, the bad taste of his arrogant,
+      overdressed, and extravagant wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you noticed her parure of diamonds?&rdquo; whispered the Countess Moltke
+      to Fran von Morien. &ldquo;If they are real, then she wears an estate upon her
+      shoulders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The family estate of Von Leuthen,&rdquo; laughingly replied Frau von Morien.
+      &ldquo;You know, I suppose, that the father of General von Leuthen was a
+      brick-burner, and he may have succeeded in changing a few bricks into
+      diamonds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are wicked, sweet one,&rdquo; replied the countess, smiling. &ldquo;One must
+      acknowledge that her toilet is charming. I have never seen its equal. The
+      gold lace over the rose-colored satin is superb.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and the mingling of straw feathers, diamonds, flowers, lace, and
+      birds is truly ridiculous in her head-dress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must have been copied exactly from the one which the Queen Marie
+      Antoinette wore at the ball at Versailles a fortnight since. The baroness
+      was present at this court ball with her greyhound of a husband, and
+      created quite a sensation with her costly recherchee toilet, as the French
+      ambassador told us yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not by her manner,&rdquo; said Frau von Morien. &ldquo;She is insupportably
+      arrogant and self-sufficient. What do you think of this pretentious manner
+      of announcing our names as if we were at an auction where they sold
+      titles?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a very good French custom,&rdquo; remarked the countess. &ldquo;But it does not
+      become a lady of doubtful nobility and uncertain position, to introduce
+      foreign customs here. She should leave this to others, and modestly accept
+      those already in use by us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One remarks the puffed-up parvenue,&rdquo; whispered Frau von Morien. &ldquo;Every
+      thing smells of the varnish upon the newly-painted coat-of-arms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, my friend! I there comes the baroness leaning upon the arm of the
+      French ambassador. She is indeed imposing in appearance, and one could
+      mistake her for a queen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could any one ever suppose that this queen once made flowers to sell?
+      Come, countess, I have just thought of a charming scene to revenge myself
+      upon this arrogant personage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Giving her arm to the countess, she approached her hostess leaning upon
+      the arm of the Marquis de Treves, the French ambassador, as they were
+      standing beneath the immense chandelier of rock crystal, which sparkled
+      above them like a crown of stars, causing her diamonds to look as if in
+      one blaze of different hues.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, permit us to sun ourselves in your rays, ma toute belle,&rdquo; said the
+      Countess Moltke. &ldquo;One could well fancy themselves in a fairy palace, so
+      enchanting is everything here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the baroness&rsquo;s appearance confirms this impression,&rdquo; remarked the
+      gallant Frenchman. &ldquo;Fancy could not well paint a more lovely fairy in
+      one&rsquo;s happiest dreams.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, truly I wander around as if in an enchanted scene. I feel as if I
+      must seize myself by the head and be well shaken, to convince myself that
+      I am really awake and not dreaming a chapter from Aladdin. I made the
+      effort, but felt the wreath of roses in my hair, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that convinced you of your wakefulness,&rdquo; said the baroness, a little
+      haughtily. Turning to the ambassador, she added: &ldquo;Do you observe, monsieur
+      le marquis, what a delicate attention this lady shows me in wearing a
+      wreath of flowers which I manufactured?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Comment! The baroness is truly a fairy! She causes flowers to grow at her
+      pleasure, and vies with Nature. It seems impossible. I can scarcely
+      believe it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet it is true,&rdquo; said Frau von Morien. &ldquo;The baroness, indeed,
+      fabricated these roses three years since, when she had the kindness to
+      work for me. You will acknowledge that I have kept them well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was no kindness of mine, but a necessity,&rdquo; said the baroness, &ldquo;and I
+      must confess that I would not have undertaken so troublesome a piece of
+      work from pure goodness or pleasure. You will remember that I was very
+      poor before my marriage, and as Frau von Morien was one of my customers,
+      it is very natural that she possesses my flowers. She gave me many orders,
+      and paid me a very small price, for she is very practical and prudent, and
+      understands bargaining and cheapening, and when one is poor they are
+      obliged to yield to the shameless parsimony of the rich. I thank you, my
+      dear benefactress, for the honor you have shown me in wearing my flowers,
+      for it has been a pleasant occasion to explain ourselves and recognize
+      each other. Have the kindness to recall other remembrances of the past.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not remember possessing any other souvenirs,&rdquo; replied the countess,
+      confused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you forgotten that I gave French lessons to your niece, the present
+      Frau von Hohenthal? She came to me three times weekly, because the lessons
+      were a few groschen cheaper at the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this instant the usher announced in a loud voice, &ldquo;Professor Philip
+      Moritz.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A gentleman of slight proportions, in an elegant fashionable dress,
+      appeared and remained standing in the doorway, his large black eyes
+      wandering searchingly through the drawing-room. Herr von Ebenstreit
+      approached, extending him his hand, uttering a few unintelligible words,
+      which his guest appeared not to notice, but, slightly inclining, asked if
+      he would present him to the lady of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have the kindness to follow me,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, leading Moritz through
+      the circle of jesting, slandering ladies and gentlemen, to the centre of
+      the room, where Marie was still standing with the French ambassador and
+      the two ladies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said her husband, &ldquo;I have brought you an old acquaintance,
+      Professor Moritz.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Ebenstreit would retreat, Moritz commanded him to remain, placing his
+      white-gloved hand upon his arm, and holding him fast. &ldquo;I would ask you one
+      question before I speak with the baroness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Moritz spoke so loud, and in such a strange, harsh, and repulsive manner,
+      that every one turned astonished, asking himself what it meant.
+      Conversation was hushed, and the curious pressed toward the peculiar group
+      in the centre to the baroness, who regarded her husband perfectly
+      composed, and the pale man, with the flashing eyes, the glance of which
+      pierced her like daggers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A breathless silence reigned, broken only by Ebenstreit&rsquo;s trembling voice.
+      &ldquo;What is it, professor? How can I serve you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me who you are?&rdquo; replied Moritz, with a gruff laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am the Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the scar which you bear upon your face, is it not the mark of a whip,
+      with which I lashed a certain Herr Ebenstreit three years since, who
+      prevented my eloping with my betrothed? I challenged him to fight a duel,
+      but the coward refused me satisfaction, and then I struck him in the face,
+      causing the blood to flow. Answer me&mdash;are you this gentleman?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Not a sound interrupted the fearfully long pause which followed. Every one
+      turned astonished to Ebenstreit, who, pale as death, was powerless to
+      utter a word, but stood staring at his opponent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you not answer me?&rdquo; cried Moritz, stamping his foot. &ldquo;Are you the
+      coward? Was this red scar caused by the whip-lash?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Another long pause ensued, and a distinctly audible voice was heard,
+      saying, &ldquo;Yes, it is he!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who replied to me?&rdquo; asked Moritz, turning his angry glance away from
+      Ebenstreit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I,&rdquo; said Marie. &ldquo;I reply for my husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You? Are you the wife of this man?&rdquo; thundered Moritz.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am,&rdquo; Marie answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is this invitation directed to me from you?&rdquo; he continued, drawing a
+      paper from his pocket. &ldquo;Did you permit yourself to invite me to your
+      house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I did,&rdquo; she calmly answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And by what right, madame? This is the question I wish answered, and I
+      came here for that purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I invited you because I desired to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shameless one!&rdquo; cried Moritz, furious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; cried the ambassador, placing himself before Moritz, defying his
+      anger, &ldquo;you forget that you are speaking to a lady. As her husband is
+      silent, I declare myself her knight, and I will not suffer her to be
+      injured by word or look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can you hinder me?&rdquo; cried Moritz, with scorn. &ldquo;What will you do if I
+      dash this paper at her feet, and forbid her to ever write my name again?&rdquo;
+       Making a ball of it, he suited the action to the word, casting a defiant
+      look at the marquis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall order the footmen to thrust you out of the house. Here, servants,
+      remove this man; he is an escaped lunatic, undoubtedly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two footmen pressed forward through the circle which crowded around
+      Moritz.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoever touches me, death to him!&rdquo; thundered Moritz, laying his hand upon
+      a small sword at his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let no one dare lay a hand on this gentleman,&rdquo; cried Marie, with a
+      commanding wave of her hand to the lackeys. &ldquo;I beseech you, marquis, and
+      you, honored guests, to quietly await the conclusion of this scene, and to
+      permit Herr Moritz to finish speaking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean to defy me, madame?&rdquo; muttered Moritz, gnashing his teeth.
+      &ldquo;You perhaps count upon my magnanimity to keep silent, and not disclose
+      the secrets of the past to this aristocratic assembly. I stand here as its
+      accusing spirit, and condemn you as a shameless perjurer.&mdash;I will ask
+      you who are here rendering homage to this woman, if you know who she is,
+      and of what she has been guilty? As a young girl she was as sweet and
+      innocent as an angel, and seemed more like a divine revelation. To think
+      of her, inspired and elevated one&rsquo;s thoughts, and heaven was mirrored in
+      her eyes. She was poor, and yet so infinitely rich, that if a king had
+      laid all his treasures at her feet, as the gift of his love, he would
+      receive more than he gave, for in her heart reposed the wealth of the
+      whole human race. Oh! I could weep tears of blood in reflecting upon what
+      she was, and what she has become. Smile and mock, ladies and gentlemen; my
+      brain is crazed, and I weep for my lost angel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Moritz dashed his hands to his face, and stood swaying backward and
+      forward, sobbing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sighs and regrets were heard in the room. The ladies pressed their
+      handkerchiefs to their eyes; others regarded with lively sympathy the
+      handsome young man, who deeply interested them, and gazed reproachfully at
+      the young baroness, expecting her to be crushed with these reproaches and
+      tears, but who, on the contrary, stood with proud composure, her face
+      beaming with joy, gazing at Moritz.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is past&mdash;my last tear is shed, and my last wail has been
+      uttered,&rdquo; cried Philip, uncovering his face. &ldquo;My angel has changed into a
+      despicable woman. I loved her as the wretched, disconsolate being adores
+      the one who reveals paradise to him; and she fooled me into the belief
+      that she loved me. We exchanged vows of eternal constancy and affection,
+      and promised each other to bear joyfully every ill in life, and never
+      separate until death. I should have doubted myself, rather than she who
+      stood above me, like a divine revelation. I wished to win her by toil and
+      industry, by my intellect, and the fame by which I could render my name
+      illustrious. It was, indeed, nothing in the eyes of her grasping parents;
+      they repulsed me with scorn and pride, but Marie encouraged me to perfect
+      confidence in her affection. Whilst I wandered on foot to Silesia, like a
+      poor pilgrim toward happiness, to humble myself before the king, to beg
+      and combat for my angel, there came temptation, sin, and vulgarity, in the
+      form of this pale, cowed-down man, who stands beside my betrothed gasping
+      with rage. The temptation of riches changed my angel into a demon, a
+      miserable woman bartered for gold! She betrayed her love, yielding it up
+      for filthy lucre, crushing her nobler nature in the dust, and driving over
+      it, as did Tullia the dead body of her father. She sold herself for
+      riches, before which you all kneel, as if worshipping the golden calf!
+      After selling her soul to a man whom she despised, even if he were not
+      rich, she has had the boldness to summon me, the down-trodden and
+      half-crazed victim, to her gilded palace, as if I were a slave to be
+      attached to her triumphal car. I am a free man, and have come here only to
+      hurl contempt in her face, to brand her before you all as a perjurer and a
+      traitress, whom I never will pardon, but will curse with my latest breath!
+      Now I have relieved my heart of its burden, I command this woman to deny
+      what I have said, if she can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a dictatorial wave of the hand, he pointed excitedly Marie. A
+      deathlike stillness reigned. Even the lights seemed to grow dim, and every
+      one was oppressed as if by excessive sultriness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Moritz commanded Marie to acknowledge the truth of his accusations
+      before the honored assembly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She encountered his angry glance with calmness, and a smile was
+      perceptible upon her lip. &ldquo;Yes, said she, I acknowledge that I am a
+      perjurer and a traitor. I have sold myself for riches, and yielded my
+      peace of soul and my love for mammon. I might justify myself, but I
+      refrain from it, and will only say that you have told the truth! One day
+      you will cease to curse me, and, perhaps a tear of pity will glisten in
+      the eye now flashing with scorn and anger. The poor wife who lies in the
+      dust implores for the last blessing of your love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie!&rdquo; he cried, with heart-rending anguish, &ldquo;oh, Marie!&rdquo; and rushed
+      toward her, kneeling before her, and clinging to her, pressing a kiss upon
+      her hand and weeping aloud. Only for a moment did he give way, and then
+      sprang up wildly, rushing through the crowd, out of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A fearful silence ensued. No one had the courage to break it. Every one
+      hoped that Marie, through a simulated fainting, would end the painful
+      scene, and give the guests an opportunity to withdraw. No such
+      thoughtfulness for her friends occurred to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned to the Marquis de Treves, who stood pale and deeply agitated
+      behind her, and burst into a loud laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How pale you are! Have you taken this comedy for truth? Did you think
+      this theatrical performance was a reality? You have forgotten what I told
+      you a month since in Paris, that I had a native talent for acting. You
+      would contest the matter with me, and I bet you that I could introduce an
+      impromptu scene in my house, with such artistic skill, that you would be
+      quite deceived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I do recall it; how could I have forgotten it?&rdquo; replied the
+      marquis, with the ready tact of the diplomat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have I won?&rdquo; asked Marie, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have played your role, baroness, like an artiste of consummate
+      talent, and to-morrow I shall have the honor to cancel the debt in your
+      favor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, then, give me your arm, marquis, and conduct me to the dancing-room,
+      and you, worthy guests, follow us,&rdquo; said. Marie, leading the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The merry music even was not sufficient to dissipate the awkward
+      oppression, and by midnight the guests had taken leave, and Marie stood
+      under the chandelier, pale and rigid, opposite her husband. He had
+      summoned courage to bewail the terrible scene, weeping and mourning over
+      her cruelty and his shame. Marie, with chilling indifference, regarded him
+      without one visible trace of pity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You realized what you were doing when you imposed the scorn of this
+      marriage upon me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I have never deceived you with vain hopes!
+      You have sown dragons&rsquo; teeth, and warriors have sprung up to revenge me
+      upon you. Serve yourself of your riches to fight the combatants. See if
+      you can bargain for a quiet conscience as easily as you purchased me! My
+      soul is free though, and it hovers over you as the spirit of revenge.&mdash;Beware!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She slowly turned and quitted the room. Her diamonds sparkled and blazed
+      in the myriads of lights. The large mirrors reflected the image of a
+      haughty woman, who swept proudly past like a goddess of revenge!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit stood gazing after her. He had a horror of the lonely still
+      room, so gorgeous and brilliantly illuminated&mdash;a shudder crept over
+      him, and he sank, weeping bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the little room, the buried happiness of the past, Marie knelt, with
+      outstretched arms, imploring heaven for mercy. &ldquo;I thank Thee, Heavenly
+      Father, that I have been permitted to see him again! My sacrifice was not
+      in vain&mdash;he lives! He is free, and his mind is clear and bright. I
+      thank Thee that he still loves me. His anger is but love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVI. THE KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The joy which Bischofswerder said, reigned in heaven and upon earth over
+      the return of the crown prince to the path of virtue, in having forsaken
+      Wilhelmine Enke, was of but short duration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Invisibles and the pious Rosicrucians soon learned that sagacious and
+      cunning woman defied the spirits and abjured the oaths.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Since the night of his communion with the departed, Frederick William had
+      never visited Charlottenburg&mdash;never seen the house which contained
+      all that he held most dear; he had returned Wilhelmine&rsquo;s letters unopened,
+      and had even had the courage to refuse himself to the children, who came
+      to see him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If he had been left to consult his own heart, he would not probably have
+      had sufficient resolution to have done this; Bischofswerder and Woellner
+      never left him for a moment, as they said the Invisible Fathers had
+      commanded them to tarry with the much-loved brother in these first days of
+      trial and temptation, and to elevate and gladden him with edifying
+      conversations and scientific investigations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prayers and exhortations were the duty of Woellner, who, besides this,
+      continued his daily discourses upon the administration of government,
+      preparing the prince for the important command of the royal regiments,
+      which they hoped favorable destiny would soon grant him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The scientific researches were the part of Bischofswerder, and he entered
+      upon his duties with the zeal and pleasure of an inquiring mind, itself
+      hopeful and believing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the cabinet arranged in the new palace at Potsdam, the prince and his
+      dear Bischofswerder worked daily, many hours, to discover the great hope
+      of the alchemist&mdash;the philosopher&rsquo;s stone. Not finding it,
+      unfortunately, they brewed all sorts of miraculous drinks, which were
+      welcome to the prince as the elixir of eternal youth and constant love. In
+      the evenings they communed with the spirits of the distinguished departed,
+      which, moved at the earnest prayers of Woellner, and the fervent
+      exhortation of the crown prince, always had the goodness to appear, and
+      witness their satisfaction for their much-loved son, as they called him,
+      for continuing brave and faithful, and not falling into the unholy snares
+      of the seductress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The crown prince, however, experienced not the least self-contentment.
+      Each day renewed the yearning for the beloved of his youth and for his
+      children, for which those of his wife were no compensation&mdash;neither
+      the silent, awkward Prince Frederick William, nor his crying little
+      brother. In his dreams he saw Wilhelmine dissolved in tears, calling upon
+      him in most tender accents, and when he awoke, it was to an inconsolable
+      grief. He wept with heart-felt sorrow; his oath alone kept him from
+      hastening to her; it bound him, and fettered his earnest wish to see her,
+      making him sad and melancholy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The spirits had no pity nor mercy upon him. His two confidants encouraged
+      his virtue and piety from morning till night, exalting his excited fancy
+      with their marvellous relations and apparitions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day as they were on the point of commencing the morning prayers to the
+      Invisibles, a royal footman appeared, with the command to betake
+      themselves to Sans-Souci, where the king awaited them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A royal carriage was in attendance to convey them. There was no
+      alternative but obedience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps Fate destines us to become martyrs to the holy cause,&rdquo; said
+      Woellner, devoutly folding his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We may never enjoy the happiness of seeing our dear brothers of the
+      confederacy again,&rdquo; sighed Bischofswerder. &ldquo;Our spirits will always be
+      with you, my prince, and the Invisible Fathers will protect you in all
+      your ways.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The crown prince, deeply moved, separated from his friends with tears in
+      his eyes; but as the carriage rolled away he felt relieved as of an
+      oppressive burden, and breathed more freely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the same time a footman entered, bearing upon a golden salver a letter
+      for the prince. Unobserved and free to act, he read it, and as he sat
+      musingly thinking over its contents, so tender and affectionate, he
+      re-read it, and rising, made a bold resolve, his face beaming with
+      happiness, to order his carriage, which he did, and in a few moments more
+      drove at full speed away from the palace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bischofswerder and Woellner, in the mean time, arrived at Sans-Souci. The
+      footman awaiting them conducted them at once through the picture-gallery,
+      into the little corridor leading to the king&rsquo;s cabinet, and there left
+      them to announce them to his majesty. Both gentlemen heard their names
+      called in a loud voice, and the response of the king: &ldquo;Let them wait in
+      the little corridor until I permit them to enter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The footman returned and with subdued voice made known the royal command,
+      and departed, carefully closing the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no seat in the narrow, little corridor, and the air was close
+      and oppressive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They could hear voices in mingled conversation; sometimes it seemed as if
+      the king were communicating commands; again, as if he dictated in a
+      suppressed voice. The Rosicrucians knew very well it was the hour of the
+      cabinet council, and they waited patiently and steadfastly, but as their
+      watches revealed the fact that three hours had passed, and every noise was
+      hushed, they concluded they were forgotten, and resolved to remind the
+      lackey of their presence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, this standing is quite insupportable,&rdquo; whispered Woellner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They both slipped to the entrance and tried the bronze knob, but although
+      it turned, the door opened not, and was evidently fastened upon the
+      outside. They looked alarmed at each other, asking what it could mean.
+      &ldquo;Can it be intentional? Are we imprisoned here? We must be resigned,
+      although it is a severe experience.&rdquo; At last, patience exhausted, they
+      resolved to bear it no longer, and tapped gently at the door of the king.
+      The loud bark of a dog was their only response, and again all was still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Evidently there is no one there,&rdquo; sighed Bischofswerder. &ldquo;It is the hour
+      of dining of the king.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish it were ours also,&rdquo; whined Woellner. &ldquo;I confess I yearn for bodily
+      nourishment, and my legs sink under me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am fearfully hungry,&rdquo; groaned Bischofswerder; &ldquo;besides, the air is
+      suffocating. I am resolved to go to extremes, and make a noise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rushed like a caged boar from one door to the other, shrieking for the
+      lackey to open the door; but as before, a loud bark was the only response.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Lord has forsaken us,&rdquo; whimpered Woellner. &ldquo;The sublime Fathers have
+      turned their faces away from us. We will pray for mercy and beg for a
+      release!&rdquo; and he sank upon his knees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What will that avail us here, where neither prayers nor devotion are
+      heeded? Only energy and determination will aid us at Sans-Souci. Come, let
+      us thump and bang until they set us free!&rdquo; cried Bischofswerder,
+      peevishly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Their hands were lame, and their voices hoarse with their exertions; and
+      no longer able to stand, they sank down upon the floor hungry and
+      exhausted, almost weeping with rage and despair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last, after long hours of misery, they heard a noise in the adjoining
+      room. The king had again entered his cabinet. The door opened, and the
+      lackey motioned to the two gentlemen to enter. They rose with difficulty
+      and staggered into the room, the door being closed behind them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His majesty was seated in his arm-chair, with his three-cornered hat on,
+      leaning his chin upon his hands, crossed upon his staff. He fixed his
+      great blue eyes, with a searching glance, upon the two Rosicrucians; then
+      turned to his minister, Herzberg, who was seated at the table covered with
+      documents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These are, then, the two great props of the Rosicrucians?&rdquo; asked
+      Frederick&mdash;&ldquo;the two charlatans whom they have told me make hell hot
+      for the crown prince, continually lighting it up with their prayers and
+      litanies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty,&rdquo; answered Herzberg, smiling, &ldquo;these gentlemen are Colonel
+      Bischofswerder and the councillor of the exchequer, Woellner, whom your
+      majesty has commanded to appear before you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are the two gentlemen who work miracles, and have the effrontery to
+      summon the spirit of our ancestor, the great elector, and the Emperor
+      Marcus Aurelius?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; stammered Bischofswerder, &ldquo;we have tried to summon spirits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I too,&rdquo; cried the king, &ldquo;only they will not come; therefore I wished
+      to see the enchanters, and would like to purchase the secret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, most gracious sire,&rdquo; said Woellner, humbly, &ldquo;you must first be
+      received in the holy order of the Rosicrucians.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks,&rdquo; cried the king, &ldquo;I am not ready for the like follies, and whilst
+      I live the Invisibles must take heed not to become too visible, or they
+      will be taken care of. I will not permit Prussia to retrograde. It has
+      cost too much trouble to enlighten the people, bring them to reason, and
+      banish hypocrisy. Say to the Rosicrucians that they shall leave the crown
+      prince in peace, or I will chase them to the devil, who will receive them
+      with open arms! It could do no harm to appeal to the prince&rsquo;s conscience
+      to lead an honorable life, and direct his thoughts more to study than to
+      love, but you shall not make a hypocrite of him and misuse his natural
+      good-nature. If the Rosicrucians try to force the prince and rule him, I
+      will show them that I am master, and will no longer suffer their
+      absurdities, but will break up the whole nest of them! I have been much,
+      annoyed at the deep despondency of the crown prince. You shall not
+      represent to him that baseness and virtue are the same, and that he is the
+      latter when he betrays those to whom he has sworn fidelity and affection.
+      An honorable man must, above all, he cognizant of benefits, and not
+      forsake those who have sacrificed their honor and love to him, and have
+      proved their fidelity. Have you understood me, gentlemen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be my holy duty to follow strictly your majesty&rsquo;s commands,&rdquo; said
+      Bischofswerder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I also will strive to promote the will of my king,&rdquo; asserted
+      Woellner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be necessary to do so, or you two gentlemen may find yourselves
+      at Spandau. I would say to you once for all, I will not suffer any sects;
+      every one can worship God in his own way. No one shall have the arrogant
+      presumption to declare himself one of the elect. We are all sinners. The
+      Rosicrucians are not better than the Illuminati or Freemasons, and none
+      are more worthy than the tailor and cobbler who does his duty. Adieu!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king nodded quickly and pointed to the door out of which the two
+      brothers were about to disappear, when he called them back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If the prince is not at the palace on your return, I advise you not to
+      pursue him, but reflect that the Invisibles may have summoned him to a
+      communion of spirits; I believe, too, that I kept you waiting; but without
+      doubt you were comforted by the Fathers, who bore you away upon their
+      wings, and gave you food and drink! Those who are protected by the
+      spirits, and can summon them at pleasure, can never want. If you are
+      hungry, call up the departed Lucullus, that he may provide for you to eat;
+      and if you have no earthly seat, summon Semiramis that she may send you
+      her hanging gardens for the quiet repose of the elect! I am rejoiced that
+      you have enjoyed such celestial refreshments in the corridor. Adieu!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king gazed sadly after them. Approaching Herzberg, he said: &ldquo;I felt,
+      as I looked at the two rogues, that it was a pity to grow old. Did you
+      think that I would let them off so easily?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I really do not understand you,&rdquo; replied Herzberg, shrugging his
+      shoulders. &ldquo;I know not, in your most active youthful days, how you could
+      have done otherwise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will tell you that, if I were not an old man, void of decision and
+      energy, I would have had these fellows taken to Spandau for life!&rdquo; said
+      the king, striking the table with his staff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your majesty does yourself injustice,&rdquo; said Herzberg, smiling. &ldquo;You were
+      ever a just monarch in your most ardent youth, and never set aside the
+      law. These men were not guilty of any positive crime.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are daily and hourly guilty of enticing away from me the crown
+      prince, and making the future ruler of my country an obscurer, a
+      necromancer, and at the same time a libertine! I was obliged to overlook
+      his youthful preference for Wilhelmine Enke, and wink at this amour, for I
+      know that crown prince is human, and his affections are to be consulted.
+      If he cannot love the wife which diplomacy chooses for him, then he must
+      be permitted the chosen one of his heart to console him for the forced
+      marriage. At the same time this person was passable, and without the usual
+      fault of such creatures, a desire to rule and mingle in politics. She
+      seems to be unambitious and unpretentious. These Rosicrucians would banish
+      her by increasing the number of favorites, that they may rule him, and
+      make the future King of Prussia a complete tool in their hands. They
+      excite his mind, which is not too well balanced, and rob him by their
+      witchcraft of the intellect that he has. They promise him to find the
+      philosopher&rsquo;s stone, and make a fool of him. Am I not right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must acknowledge that you are,&rdquo; sighed Herzberg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And admit also that it would be just to send these in, famous fellows as
+      criminals to Spandau.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, unfortunately, there are crimes and offences which the law does not
+      reach, and which cannot be judged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I was young,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;I tore up and stamped upon every weed
+      that I found in my garden. Shall I now let these two grow and infect the
+      air, because the law gives me no right to crush them? Formerly I would
+      have torn them leaf from leaf, but now I am old and useless, my hand is
+      weak, and lacks the strength to uproot them, therefore I suffer them to
+      stand, and all the other abominable things which these rogues bring to
+      pass. A cloud is rising, from which a storm will one day burst over
+      Prussia; but I cannot dissipate it, for the little strength and breath
+      that remains I have need of for the government; and, moreover, I have no
+      superfluous time for the future, but must live and work only for the
+      present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the blessing of your exertions will be felt in the future. The deeds
+      of a great man are not extinguished with his death, but shine like a star,
+      disseminating light beyond his grave!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This light is just what the Rosicrucians will take care to extinguish
+      like a tallow candle with too long a wick, and it is good fortune that the
+      astronomers have awarded me a little glorification in the heavens, and
+      accorded me a star, for the Rosicrucians would not let it shine here
+      below. I must console myself with this, and recall that when it is dark
+      and lowering here, I have a star above in the sky!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This star is Frederick&rsquo;s honor,&rdquo; cried Herzberg. &ldquo;It will beam upon
+      future generations, and become the guiding light of the sons and nephews
+      of your house, and they will learn to be as sagacious and wise as the
+      Great Frederick.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you have made a great error, Herzberg,&rdquo; replied the king, quickly.
+      &ldquo;Future generations are newer taught by the past&mdash;grandchildren think
+      themselves wiser than their grandparents. The greatest of heroes is
+      forgotten, and his deeds buried in the dust of ages. You have given me a
+      glorious title of honor, and I know how little I deserve it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A title which will be confirmed in centuries to come, for every history
+      will speak of Frederick the Second as Frederick Great.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In history it may be, but the people will speak of me as &lsquo;Old Fritz&rsquo;&mdash;that
+      will be on the lips of those who love me, and expression of endearment; on
+      the lips of those who hate me, one of disaffection. I am, indeed, &lsquo;Old
+      Fritz,&rsquo; which the Bischofswerders and Woellners also call me, and try to
+      make the crown prince believe that I have outlived my period, and do not
+      understand or esteem the modern time. In their eyes I am a dismantled ship
+      of state, which the storms of life have rendered unseaworthy. They would
+      refit the vessel, and give it a new flag, sending Old Fritz, the helmsman,
+      to the devil! The day of my death they will hoist this flag, with &lsquo;Modern
+      Time&rsquo; inscribed upon it in large letters. I shall then be united in
+      Elysium with Voltaire, Jordan, Suhm, and all my other friends, as we were
+      wont to be at Sans-Souci, and look down with a pitying smile upon the
+      Modern Time and Old Folly!&mdash;Vale!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVII. THE ESPOUSALS.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Both Bischofswerder and Woellner hastened to avail themselves of the
+      commanding &ldquo;adieu,&rdquo; and quit the royal presence. Without, the carriage was
+      ready to reconvey them to the new palace. They were so exhausted that
+      neither of them uttered a word, the last injunctions of the king ringing
+      in their ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silently they alighted upon arriving, but as the footman came out to meet
+      them they asked, simultaneously, if his royal highness had dined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His highness is not here, having departed immediately after the two
+      gentlemen, and is not yet returned,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may serve us something to eat as quickly as possible in the little
+      dining-room. Let it be ready in a quarter of an hour,&rdquo; commanded
+      Bischofswerder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now that we are alone, what do you think of this affair?&rdquo; asked Woellner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot vouchsafe a reply until I have eaten a pheasant&rsquo;s wing, and
+      drunken my champagne,&rdquo; replied Bischofswerder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He kept his word, preserving a solemn silence until a good half of the
+      bird had disappeared, and many glasses of iced champagne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Bischofswerder leaned back in his comfortable armchair with infinite
+      ease, whilst his friend occupied himself with the most pious zeal with the
+      pheasant, rejoicing at this revelation of the Invisibles. Bischofswerder
+      let him enjoy it, and ordered the footman to serve the dessert and
+      withdraw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I am prepared to reply to you, my dear friend, that we are alone. I
+      believe the king would have sent us to Spandau at once if we had opposed
+      his free-thinking opinions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am convinced of it,&rdquo; sighed Woellner, eyeing the remains of the bird
+      with a melancholy glance. &ldquo;We shall have much to endure for the holy cause
+      which we serve.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is to say, we will have much to suffer if we, in fanatical
+      indiscretion, do not submit to circumstances,&rdquo; said Bischofswerder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot traduce the sublime Fathers!&rdquo; cried Woellner;&mdash;&ldquo;for the
+      body&rsquo;s security, we cannot endanger the salvation of our souls, and, like
+      Peter, deny our master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my much-loved and noble friend. But we must be wise as serpents, and
+      our duty to the holy order is to preserve its useful tools that they may
+      not be lost. You will agree with me in this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, I do admit it,&rdquo; replied Wollner, pathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Further, you will acknowledge that we are very useful, and I might say
+      indispensable tools of the Sublime Order of the Rosicrucians and the
+      Invisible Fathers of the Order of Jesus? It is our task to secure an
+      abiding-place to the proscribed and, cursed, to plough and sow the field,
+      which will yield good fruit for humanity entire, and particularly our
+      order, when the crown prince ascends the throne. We will here erect a
+      kingdom of the future, and it is all-important to lay so secure a
+      corner-stone in the heart of his highness that nothing can shake or
+      dislodge it. Who could perfect this work if we were not here? Who would
+      dare to undertake the difficult task if we should fail? Who would carry on
+      a secret and continued warfare with this artful and powerful seductress if
+      we were conquered?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one would do it,&rdquo; sighed Woellner, &ldquo;no one would sacrifice themselves
+      like Samson for this Delilah.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will together be the Samson,&rdquo; replied Bischofswerder, drawing a glass
+      of sparkling champagne. &ldquo;We will be the Samson which the Philistines drove
+      out, but this woman shall not practise the arts of Delilah upon us in
+      putting our eyes out or cutting off our hair. Against two Samsons the most
+      artful and beautiful Delilah is not wary enough; and if we cannot conquer
+      her, we must resort to other means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What may they be, dear brother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must compromise the matter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Woellner sprang up, and a flush of anger or from champagne overspread his
+      face &ldquo;Compromise with the sinful creature!&rdquo; he cried, impetuously. &ldquo;Make
+      peace with the seductress, who leads the prince from the path of virtue!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, we must be on friendly terms with this woman, who could greatly
+      injure us as an enemy, and aid us infinitely as a friend. This is my
+      intention, and I am the more convinced that we must accept this middle
+      course, as she is protected by the king.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because he knows from his spies that she mingles with the Illuminati and
+      the Freemasons, and that she is our opponent,&rdquo; said Woellner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more the reason, my noble zealot, to win her friendship, who will
+      have validity and power until the crown prince reigns, and this old
+      godless freethinker of a king is in his gravel Then Prussia will commence
+      a new era, and we shall be lords, and guide the machine of state. For such
+      lofty aims one ought to be ready to compromise with his Satanic majesty
+      even. Then why not with this little she-devil, whose power is fading every
+      year with her youth and beauty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is quite true, we should be mindful of the device of our Invisible
+      Fathers. The end sanctifies the means,&rdquo; sighed Woellner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe it to be indispensable, and you will grant that I am right. Do
+      you not see that the prince has availed himself of our absence to go
+      there, and has not yet returned?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; shrieked Woellner, clasping his hands&mdash;&ldquo;you do not mean that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That Rinaldo has returned to the enchanted garden of Armida.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, let us hasten to release him at once, and revue his soul from
+      perdition!&rdquo; cried Woellner, springing up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary, let us await him here without a word of reproach upon
+      his return. This will touch his tender heart which we must work upon, if
+      we would get him into our power, for to us he must belong. Fill our
+      glasses with the sparkling wine, and drink to the contract with Wilhelmine
+      Enke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just as merrily they quaffed the champagne in the little cosy dining-room
+      at Charlottenburg, where the prince and Wilhelmine were rejoicing over a
+      reconciliation, no one being present but the two children. Their joyous
+      laugh and innocent jests delighted the father, and the beaming eyes, sweet
+      smile, and witty conversation of his favorite, filled his heart with
+      pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not a word of reproach escaped her, but exultant and joyous she hastened
+      with outstretched arms to meet him, kissing away all his attempts to
+      implore pardon, and thanking him that he had returned to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At first the prince gave himself up to the joy of the reunion with his
+      beloved Wilhelmine sad children; but now, as the first outburst had
+      passed, the quiet, happy dinner being finished, and they had returned to
+      the sitting-room, a tinge of melancholy earnestness overshadowed his
+      amiable face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Wilhelmine threw her arms gently around his neck as she sat beside him
+      upon the divan, and looked up to him with a tender questioning glance.
+      &ldquo;Your thoughts are veiled, dearest; will you not confide to me that which
+      lies concealed there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Wilhelmine, it is a mourning veil, and hides the sorrow of
+      renunciation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not understand you, Frederick,&rdquo; she smilingly replied. &ldquo;Who could
+      compel you to an abnegation which would cause you grief?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen to me, Wilhelmine, and understand that I am suffering from
+      circumstances&mdash;an oath taken in the pressure of the moment. Try to
+      comprehend me, my dear child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Drawing her closer to him, he faithfully related to her the night of the
+      communion of the spirits, and his consequent oath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that all, my dear?&rdquo; she replied, smiling, as he finished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; he asked, astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing more than I would know if you have only sworn to renounce
+      Wilhelmine Enke!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What could I have done more prejudicial to you?&rdquo; he cried, not a little
+      irritated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely you could not injure or grieve me more, and therefore I am not a
+      little surprised that the pious Fathers could so carelessly word their
+      oaths. You have sworn to renounce your affection to and separate from
+      Wilhelmine Enke; so it follows that the Invisibles only demand that you
+      give up my name, not myself, and that is easily changed, and my dear
+      prince will not become a perjurer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not quite understand you; but I perceive by the arch expression of
+      your face that you have conceived a lucky escape for your unhappy
+      Frederick William. Explain to me, dearest, your meaning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must change my name by marrying some one!&rdquo; she whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marry! and I give you to another? I will never consent to that,&rdquo; he
+      cried, alarmed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to a husband, only a name,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;These Rosicrucians are such
+      extraordinarily virtuous and pure beings, loving you so infinitely and
+      disinterestedly, that it grieves them that my love for you does not shun
+      the light, and throw over itself the mantle of hypocritical virtue! We
+      will yield to the zealous purity of the Rosicrucians,&rdquo; continued
+      Wilhelmine, her eyes sparkling, &ldquo;and wrap this Wilhelmine Enke in a mantle
+      of virtue by giving her a husband; and then, when she walks out with her
+      children the passers-by will not have to blush with shame, and cry, &lsquo;There
+      goes the miss with her children!&rsquo; I have conceived and planned during this
+      long and painful separation, and I am resolved to submit humbly to the
+      pious Fathers, who are so zealously watchful for the salvation of your
+      soul and my good fame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is to say, you are determined to snap your fingers at them! Your
+      plan is a good one, but you will find no one to aid you in a sham
+      marriage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have already found one,&rdquo; whispered Wilhelmine, smiling. &ldquo;Your valet de
+      chambre Rietz is willing to stand with me in a sham marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My body-servant!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Frederick William! You will confess that I am not ambitious, and
+      only consent to it to secure our happiness from the persecution of these
+      virtuous men. Here is the contract,&rdquo; said she, drawing from her
+      dress-pocket a paper, which she unfolded. &ldquo;He promises to give me his
+      name, and regard me as a stranger always, for the sum of four hundred
+      thalers annually, with the promise of promotion to confidential servant
+      when the noble crown prince shall ascend the throne. <i>[Footnote:
+      Historical.&mdash;See F. Forster, &ldquo;Latest Prussian History,&rdquo; vol. 1., p.
+      74.]</i> Will you sign it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do any thing that will grant me your affection, in spite of my
+      unhappy oath. Give me the paper. I will sign it. When is the wedding?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The moment that you, my dear lord and master, have inscribed your name,&rdquo;
+       said Wilhelmine, handing him the pen, and pointing to the paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince wrote the desired signature, quickly throwing the pen across
+      the room, shouting, &ldquo;Long live Wilhelmine Rietz, who has rescued me from
+      perjury and sin! Come to my arms, outstretched to press to my heart the
+      most beautiful, most intelligent, and most diplomatic of women!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two days later it was related in Berlin that Wilhelmine Enke had married
+      the princely valet de chambre Rietz, the crown prince being present at the
+      ceremony, which took place at a small village near Potsdam.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the head of marriages, the Berlin newspapers announced &ldquo;Wilhelmine
+      Enke to Carl Rietz.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my Rosicrucians,&rdquo; cried Wilhelmine, laughingly, as she read this
+      notice, a mischievous triumph sparkling in her eyes; &ldquo;ah, my heroes in
+      virtue, for once you are outwitted, and I am victorious! I would like to
+      witness their surprise. How they will laugh and swear over it! The
+      favorite of a prince married to a valet de chambre! Wait until the prince
+      becomes a king, then Wilhelmine Rietz will develop into a beautiful
+      butterfly, and the wife of the valet de chambre will become a countess&mdash;nay,
+      a princess. The Great Kophta has promised it, and he shall keep his word.
+      I wear his ring, which sparkles and glistens, although the jeweller
+      declares the diamond has been exchanged for a false stone. No matter, if
+      it only shines like the real one. Every thing earthly is deception,
+      falsehood, and glitter. Every one is storming and pressing on in savage
+      eagerness toward fortune, honor, and fame! I will have my part in it. The
+      storm and pressure of the world rage in my own heart. The fire of ambition
+      is lighted in my soul, and the insatiable thirst for fortune consumes me.
+      Blaze and burn until the day that Frederick William ascends the throne;
+      then the low-born daughter of the trumpeter will become the high-born
+      countess. The false stone will change to the sparkling diamond and
+      Cagliostro shall then serve me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVIII. REVENGE FULFILLED.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Since the soiree at the house of the rich banker, Ebenstreit, an entire
+      winter had passed in pleasures and fetes. The position of Baron Ebenstreit
+      von Leuthen had been recognized in aristocratic society, thanks to his
+      dinners, soirees, balls, fetes, and particularly to his lovely, spirited,
+      and proud wife. Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen had reached the acme of his
+      ambition; his house was the resort of the most distinguished society; the
+      extravagance and superb arrangements of his dinners and fetes were the
+      theme of every tongue. This excessive admiration flattered the vain,
+      ambitious parvenu extremely, and it was the happiest day of his life when
+      Prince Henry of Prussia, brother of Frederick the Great, did him the
+      unspeakable honor to dine with him. This gratifying day he owed to his
+      wife, and, as he said, it ought to be kept as the greatest triumph of
+      money over prejudice and etiquette&mdash;the day upon which a royal prince
+      recognized the rich and newly-created noble as his equal. Ebenstreit&rsquo;s
+      entrance into the highest circle of aristocracy was due to the management
+      and tone of the world of his wife, who understood the elegancies of life,
+      passing as an example and ideal of an elegant woman, of which her husband
+      was very proud. He lauded his original and crafty idea of devoting his
+      money to such a satisfactory purchase as a sensible and ladylike wife,
+      although the union was not a happy one, and, in the proper acceptation of
+      the word, no marriage at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst all were entertained at the fetes, and envied the splendor and
+      wealth of Baron von Ebenstreit, there were many sinister remarks as to the
+      possibility of sustaining this expenditure upon such a grand scale. It was
+      whispered about that the banking-house, conducted under another name, had
+      lost in extensive speculations, and that the baron lived upon his
+      principal instead of his interest. The business community declared that
+      the firm entered into the most daring and senseless undertakings, and that
+      it must go to ruin. The old book-keeper, Splittgerber, who had for many
+      years conducted the business, had been pensioned by the baron, and
+      commenced for himself. His successor had once ventured to warn the
+      nobleman, and represent to him the danger which threatened him, for which
+      he was immediately dismissed, and the fact communicated to the entire
+      house, at a special assemblage of the clerks for the purpose, with the
+      warning of a like fate for every subordinate who should presume to
+      criticise the acts of the principals, or proffer advice to them. Since
+      this no one had ventured to repeat the offence, but every member of the
+      house occupied himself in drawing a profit from the general and daily
+      increasing confusion, and save something from the wreck which would
+      inevitably ensue. The baron, with pretentious unconcern, dazzled by his
+      unusual honors, permitted his business affairs to take their course with
+      smiling unconcern, and when unsuccessful, to hide the mistakes of the
+      banker under the pomp of the baron.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie, indulging in the style of a great lady, appeared not to notice or
+      trouble herself at all about these things. She entertained most
+      luxuriantly, and spent enormous sums upon her toilet, changed the costly
+      livery of her numerous retinue of servants every month, as well as the
+      furniture of the drawing-rooms; and presented with generous liberality her
+      superfluous ornaments, dresses, and furniture to her dear high-born
+      friends, who greedily accepted them, and were overflowing in their tender
+      protestations and gratitude, whilst they in secret revolted at the
+      presumption of the arrogant woman, who permitted herself to send them her
+      cast-off things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They rejoiced to receive them, however, and reappeared in her splendid
+      drawing-rooms, enduring the pride and neglect of the baroness, and calling
+      her their dear friend, whom they in secret envied and hated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Did Marie know this, or did she let herself be deceived by these friendly
+      protestations? Occasionally, when her friends embraced and kissed her, a
+      languid smile flitted over her haughty face; and once as she wandered
+      through the suite of rooms, awaiting her guests, she caught the reflection
+      of a beautiful woman in the costly Venetian mirrors, sparkling with
+      diamonds and wearing a silver-embroidered dress with a train. She gazed at
+      this woman with an expression of ineffable scorn, and whispered to her:
+      &ldquo;Suffer yet awhile, you shall soon be released. This miserable trash will
+      disappear. Only be firm&mdash;I hear already the cracking of the house
+      which will soon fall a wreck at your feet!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Others heard it also. As preparations were being made for a grand dinner,
+      with which the Baron and Baroness von Ebenstreit would close the season,
+      the former head bookkeeper of the baron appeared at the palace, demanding,
+      with anxious mien, to see the principal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just at the moment the baron and his wife were in the large
+      reception-room, which the decorator was splendidly arranging, under the
+      direction of the baroness, with flowers, festoons, columns, and statues.
+      Ebenstreit was watching admiringly the tasteful and costly display as the
+      footman announced the former book-keeper and present banker, Splittgerber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He must come at another time,&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, impatiently, &ldquo;I am busy
+      now; I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me, baron,&rdquo; replied an earnest, gentle voice behind him, &ldquo;that I
+      have followed the lackey and entered unbidden. I come on urgent business,
+      and I must indeed speak with you instantly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be brief then, at least,&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, peevishly. &ldquo;You see that my
+      wife is here, and we are very busy arranging for a grand dinner to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr Splittgerber, instead of replying, cast a peculiarly sad, searching
+      glance through the beautifully-adorned room, and at the two lackeys, who
+      stood on each side of the wide folding-doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Permit that these servants withdraw, and order them to close the doors,&rdquo;
+       said the book-keeper, almost commandingly. Ebenstreit, overruled by the
+      solemn earnestness, obeyed against his will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you like me to leave also, sir?&rdquo; said Marie, with a calm, haughty
+      manner. &ldquo;You have only to ask it and the baron will, undoubtedly, accord
+      your request.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary, I beg you to remain,&rdquo; quietly replied Splittgerber, &ldquo;for
+      what I have to say concerns you and your husband equally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, then, I beg you to say it quickly,&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, impatiently;
+      &ldquo;I repeat, that we are very busy with preparing for to-day&rsquo;s festival.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not give any fete to-day,&rdquo; said Splittgerber, solemnly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit, cringing and frightened, gazed at the old man who looked sadly
+      at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The baroness laughed aloud, sneeringly. &ldquo;My dear sir, your tone and manner
+      remind me of the wicked spirit at the horrible moment in the story when he
+      comes to demand the bartered soul, and the enchanted castle falls a
+      wreck!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your comparison is an apt one, baroness,&rdquo; sighed the old man.&mdash;&ldquo;I
+      came to you, baron, because I loved your father. I have served your house
+      thirty years, and amassed the little I had to commence business with in
+      your service. Moreover, when you so suddenly dismissed me, you not only
+      gave me my salary as a pension, but you funded the annuity with a
+      considerable sum, which makes me, through your house, independent in
+      means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may thank my wife for that. She demanded, when I dismissed you, that
+      I should compensate you with the liberality of a true nobleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, would that you had not done it, baroness!&rdquo; cried Splittgerber&mdash;&ldquo;would
+      that you had permitted the old faithful pioneer in the business to remain
+      by your husband! He might have warded off this misfortune and saved you by
+      his experience and advice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For this very reason I demanded your removal. You permitted yourself to
+      proffer advice which I felt did not become you,&rdquo; replied Marie, with a
+      strange smile of triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And, I repeat, would that you had not done it!&rdquo; sighed the old man. &ldquo;I
+      came to warn you, to conjure you, to save yourselves&mdash;to flee while
+      there is yet time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, mercy! what has happened?&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, terrified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The banking-house of Ebenstreit, founded under the name of Ludwig,
+      associated with Ehlert of Amsterdam, four months since, to buy and load
+      ships for the Calcutta market. Herr Ebenstreit gathered together the last
+      wrecks of his fortune remaining from his ruinous speculations, to win
+      enormously in this investment. Besides, he indorsed the notes of the
+      Amsterdam house for the sum of eighty thousand dollars, which has been
+      drawn, so that their notes are protested there. Herr Ebenstreit will have
+      to pay this sum!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What else?&rdquo; asked Ebenstreit, almost breathless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The house of Ehlert, in Amsterdam, has failed; the principal has fled
+      with the coffers; the notes for eighty thousand dollars were protested,
+      and you, baron, must pay this sum to-day, or declare yourself a bankrupt,
+      and go to prison for debt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Instantaneously a suppressed cry and a laugh were heard. Ebenstreit sank
+      upon a seat, concealing his pallid face with his hands, while Marie stood
+      at his side, her face beaming with joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am lost, I do not possess the eighth part of that sum! I cannot pay it.
+      I must submit, for there are no further means to prevent it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Marie, with haughty tranquillity, &ldquo;you have no further means
+      to prevent it. The rich banker Ebenstreit will leave this house, no longer
+      his own, to enter the debtor&rsquo;s prison poor as a beggar&mdash;nay, worse, a
+      defrauder!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, how cruel you are!&rdquo; groaned Ebenstreit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you say, baroness, that this house is no longer his?&rdquo; asked
+      Splittgerber, alarmed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she triumphantly cried. &ldquo;It belongs to me, and all that is in it&mdash;the
+      pictures, statues, silver, diamonds, and pearls. Oh, I am still a rich
+      woman!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do you mean to retain this wealth if your husband becomes bankrupt?
+      Do you not possess a common interest?&rdquo; asked Splittgerber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thank Heaven, the community of interest was given up a year since,&rdquo;
+       cried Ebenstreit, joyfully. &ldquo;Baroness von Ebenstreit is the lawful
+      possessor of this house and furniture. I was not so indiscreet as you
+      supposed. I have at least secured this to my wife, and she will be a rich
+      woman even if I fail, and will not let me starve. I shall divide about ten
+      per cent with my creditors, but my wife will be rich enough for us both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This gives me to understand that you intend to make a fraudulent
+      bankruptcy. You have settled every thing upon your wife to save yourself
+      from the unhappy consequences of your failure. You will still be a rich
+      man if your wife should sell her house, works of art, diamonds, gold and
+      silver service, and equipages.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, indeed, a very rich man,&rdquo; said Marie. &ldquo;In the last few weeks I have
+      had my property estimated, and it would at least bring three hundred
+      thousand dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If the baron only possessed this, he could pay his creditors, and have a
+      small amount over, sufficient to live upon economically and genteelly. But
+      you would rather enjoy splendor, and are not particular about living
+      honorably. You will undoubtedly sell your property, and go to Paris, to
+      revel in luxury and pleasure, while your defrauded creditors may, through
+      you come to poverty and want.&mdash;Baron, I now see that your wife did
+      well to bring about my removal. I should have, above all things, given you
+      the unwelcome advice to sustain your honor unblemished, and dispose of
+      your costly surroundings for the benefit of your creditors, that when you
+      die it may be with a clear conscience. You prefer a life of luxury and
+      ease, rocking your conscience to sleep until God will rouse it to a
+      fearful awaking. But do as you like. I came here to offer you assistance,
+      thinking that you would dispose of this property, and after paying your
+      creditors have sufficient to live upon. Then I could be permitted to prove
+      my fidelity to you. I now see that I was a fool. Yet in parting I will
+      still beg of you to avoid the unfavorable impression of this dinner. The
+      bill of exchange will be presented at four o&rsquo;clock, and the bearer will
+      not be satisfied with the excuse of your non-payment on account of
+      dinner-company. You will be obliged to settle at once or be arrested. I
+      have learned this from your chief creditor, and I begged him to have
+      forbearance for you. I shall now justify him in showing you none, as you
+      do not deserve it!&mdash;Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old book-keeper turned with a slight nod, and strode away through the
+      drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you nothing to say to him? Will you let him go thus?&rdquo; asked Marie,
+      impetuously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing at all. What should I say?&rdquo; he replied, shrugging his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will speak with him.&rdquo; Marie called loudly after Splittgerber,
+      saying, &ldquo;I have a word to speak to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The book-keeper remained standing near the door, and turning with downcast
+      face, demanded of Marie what she wished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have something to tell you,&rdquo; she replied, with her usual tranquil,
+      proud demeanor, approaching Splittgerber, who regarded her with severity
+      and contempt, which she met with a gentle, friendly expression, a sweet
+      smile hovering on her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie came close up to the old man, who awaited her with haughty defiance,
+      and never advanced one step to meet her&mdash;a lady splendidly bedecked
+      with diamonds and gold-embroidered satin. She whispered a few words in his
+      ear. He started, and, astonished, looked into her face, as if questioning
+      what he heard. She nodded, smiling, and bent again to say a few words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Splittgerber seemed metamorphosed. His gloomy face brightened a
+      little, and his insolent glance was changed to one of deep emotion, Bowing
+      profoundly as he held the baroness&rsquo;s proffered hand to take leave, he
+      pressed it most respectfully to his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will return in an hour?&rdquo; Marie asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I shall seek the gentlemen, and bring them with me,&rdquo; he graciously
+      replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks; I will then await you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Splittgerber departed, and Marie returned to Ebenstreit who, amazed,
+      muttered some unintelligible words, having listened to her mysterious
+      conversation with the old book-keeper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now to you, sir!&rdquo; said she, her whole tone and manner changing to harsh
+      command; &ldquo;the hour for settling our accounts has arrived&mdash;the hour
+      that I have awaited, purchasing it by four years of torture,
+      self-contempt, and despair. This comedy is at an end. I will buy of you my
+      freedom. Do you hear me? I will cast off these galley-chains. I will be
+      free!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Marie!&rdquo; he cried, retreating in terror, &ldquo;with what fearful
+      detestation you regard me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you wonder at it? Have I ever concealed this hate from you, or ever
+      given you hope to believe that a reconciliation would be possible between
+      us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, truly you have not, but now you will forgive me, for you know how I
+      love you, and have provided for your future. You will remain rich, and I
+      shall be poor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie regarded him with unspeakable contempt. &ldquo;You are more despicable
+      than I thought you were. You do not deserve forbearance or pity, for you
+      are a dishonorable bankrupt, who cares not how much others may suffer,
+      provided his future is secured. I will not, however, suffer the name which
+      I have borne against my will, to be defamed and become a mark for scorn. I
+      will compel you to remain an honest man, and be just to your creditors. I
+      propose to pay the bills of exchange, which will be presented to you
+      to-day, provided you will consent to my conditions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Marie, you are an angel!&rdquo; he cried, rushing toward her and kneeling
+      at her feet, &ldquo;I will do all that you wish, and consent to every thing you
+      propose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you swear it?&rdquo; she coldly replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear that I accept your conditions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring the writing-materials from the window-niche, and seat yourself by
+      this table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit brought them, and seated himself by the Florentine mosaic
+      table, near which Marie was standing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew from her pocket a paper, which she unfolded and placed before him
+      to sign. &ldquo;Sign this with your full name, and add, &lsquo;With my own free will
+      and consent,&rsquo;&rdquo; she commandingly ordered him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you will first make known to me the contents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have sworn to sign it,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and unless you accept my
+      conditions, you are welcome to be incarcerated for life in the debtor&rsquo;s
+      prison. You have only to choose. If you decide in the negative, I will
+      exert myself that your creditors do not free you. I should trust in the
+      justice of God having sent you there, and that man in miserable pity
+      should not act against His will in freeing you. Now decide; will you sign
+      the paper, or go to prison as a dishonorable bankrupt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He hastily seized the pen and wrote his name, handing the paper to Marie,
+      sighing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have forgotten to add the clause, &lsquo;With my own free will and
+      consent,&rsquo;&rdquo; she replied, hastily glancing at it, letting the paper drop
+      like a wilted leaf, and her eyes flashing with scorn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit saw it, and as he again handed her the paper, he exclaimed, &ldquo;I
+      read in your eyes the intense hate you bear me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she replied, composedly, &ldquo;not only hate, but scorn. Hush! no
+      response. You knew it long before I was forced to stand at the altar with
+      you. I warned you not to unite yourself to me, and you had the impious
+      audacity to defy me with your riches. The seed of hate which you then
+      sowed, you may to-day reap the fruits of. You shall recognize now that
+      money is miserable trash, and that when deprived of it you will never win
+      sympathy from your so-called friends, but they will turn from you with
+      contempt, when you crave their pity or aid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think that you exaggerate, dearest,&rdquo; said Ebenstreit, fawningly. &ldquo;You
+      have many devoted friends among the ladies, and I can well say that I have
+      found, among the distinguished gentlemen who visit our house, many noble,
+      excellent ones who have met me with a warmth of friendship&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because they would borrow money of the rich man,&rdquo; interrupted Marie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course my coffers have always been accessible to my dear friends, and
+      I prized the honor of proving my friendship by my deeds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will realize to-day how they prove their gratitude to you for it. Go,
+      receive the good friends whom you have invited. It is time that they were
+      here, and I perceive the carriages are approaching.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie motioned to the door, with a dictatorial wave of her hand, and
+      Ebenstreit betook himself to the reception-room. Just as he crossed the
+      threshold, the usher announced &ldquo;Herr Gedicke! Ebenstreit greeted him
+      hastily in passing, and the old man went on to meet the baroness, who was
+      hastening toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have most graciously invited me to your house to-day, and you will
+      excuse me that my earnest wish to see you has brought me earlier than any
+      other guest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I begged you to come a quarter of an hour sooner, for I would gladly
+      speak with you alone a few moments.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought so, and hastened up here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did not my old Trude go to see you some days since?&rdquo; asked Marie,
+      timidly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She did, and you can well understand that I was much affected and
+      surprised at her visit. I thought that you had forgotten me, baroness, and
+      that every souvenir of the past had fled from your memory. I now see that
+      your noble, faithful heart can never forget, and therefore has never
+      ceased to suffer, which I ought to regret, for your sake, but for my own
+      it pleased me to receive your kind greeting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie pressed her hand to her eyes and sighed audibly. &ldquo;Pray do not speak
+      so gently to me&mdash;it enervates me, and I would force myself to endure
+      to-day. Only tell me, did Trude communicate to you my wishes, and will it
+      be possible for you to fulfil them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your brave, good friend brought me a thousand dollars, praying me to
+      convey this to Herr Moritz in order to defray the expenses of a journey to
+      Italy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you accomplished it, and in such a manner that he does not suspect
+      the source from whence it came? He would not receive it if he had the
+      least suspicion of it. I have seen him secretly several times as he passed
+      to and fro from the Gymnasium, and he appeared to me to grow paler and
+      more languid every day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true that since you have come back he has changed. The old
+      melancholy seems to have returned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He needs distraction; he must go away and forget me. It has always been
+      his earnest wish to travel in Italy. You must tell him that you have
+      succeeded in getting the money for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I bethought myself of Moritz&rsquo;s publisher, represented to him how
+      necessary it was for the health of Professor Moritz to travel, begged of
+      him to order a work upon Italy, and particularly the works of art of Rome,
+      and propose to Moritz the acceptance of the money for that object, as he
+      was quite too proud to receive it as a present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was an excellent idea,&rdquo; cried Marie. &ldquo;Has it been accomplished?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, as Herr Maurer made the proposal, and Moritz replied, sighing, that
+      he had not the means for such a journey, the publisher immediately offered
+      him half of the remuneration in advance; consequently he starts to-morrow
+      for Italy, unknowing of the thousand dollars being your gift.&rdquo; <i>[Footnote:
+      This work, which was published after his return, still excites the highest
+      interest, and is entitled &ldquo;Travels of a German in Italy during 1786 and
+      1787.&mdash;Letters of Philip Carl Moritz,&rdquo; 8 vols., Berlin, published by
+      Frederick Maurer.]</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much I thank you!&rdquo; she joyfully cried. &ldquo;Moritz is saved; he will now
+      recover, and forget all his grief in studying the objects of interest in
+      the Eternal City.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you really believe that?&rdquo; asked Herr Gedicke. &ldquo;Were you not also in
+      Italy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was indeed there two years, but it was very different with me. It is
+      difficult to forget you are a slave, when listening all the while to the
+      clanking of your chains.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My poor child, I read with sorrow the history of the past years in your
+      grief-stricken face. It is the first time we have met since your
+      marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See what these years have made of me!&mdash;a miserable wife, whom the
+      world esteems, but who recoils from herself. My heart has changed to
+      stone, and I feel metamorphosed. The sight of you recalls that fearful
+      hour, melting my heart and causing the tears to flow. At that time you
+      blessed me, my friend and father. Oh, grant me your blessing again in this
+      hour of sorrow! I implore you for it, before an important decision! I long
+      for the sympathy of a noble soul!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know not, my child, with what grief this hour may be laden for you; but
+      I lay my hand again upon your head, imploring God in His divine mercy to
+      sustain you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Countess von Moltke and Frau von Morien!&rdquo; announced the usher. In
+      brilliant toilets the ladies rustled in, hastening toward the baroness,
+      who had now regained her wonted composure, and received them in her usual
+      stately manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How perfectly charming you look to-night!&rdquo; cried Countess Moltke. &ldquo;To me
+      you are ever the impersonation of the goddess of wealth and beauty
+      strewing everywhere with lavish generosity your gifts, and turning every
+      thing to gold with your touch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But whose heart has remained tender and gentle,&rdquo; added Frau von Morien.&mdash;&ldquo;You
+      are indeed a goddess, always enhancing the pleasures of others. To-day I
+      wear the beautiful bracelet which you sent me because I admired it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, ma toute belle,&rdquo; cried the countess, &ldquo;have adorned myself with
+      this superb gold brocade which you so kindly had sent from Paris for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have forgotten, countess, that you begged of me to give the order for
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that is true! Then I am your debtor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you are not too proud to receive it as a present?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, most certainly not; on the contrary, I thank you, my dear.&mdash;Tell
+      me, my dear Morien, is not this woman an angel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this instant the French ambassador, Marquis Treves, appeared among the
+      numerous guests, whom the baroness stepped quickly forward to welcome,
+      withdrawing with him into the window-niche.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Welcome, marquis,&rdquo; she said, quickly, in a low voice, &ldquo;Have you brought
+      me the promised papers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Drawing a sealed packet from his coat-pocket, he handed it to the baroness
+      with a low bow, saying: &ldquo;I would draw your attention to the fact once
+      more, dear madam, that I have abided by the price named by yourself, in
+      making this sale, although I am still of the opinion that it is below its
+      value.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sum is sufficient for my wants, and I rated its value according as it
+      is taxed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are a hundred thousand dollars in bills of exchange, payable at the
+      French embassy at any moment,&rdquo; said the marquis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, sir, for this proof of friendly attention; and as it may be
+      the last time we meet, I would assure you that I shall always remember
+      your many and thoughtful kindnesses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak, baroness, as if you would forsake the circle of which you are
+      the brightest ornament.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, the friends will forsake me,&rdquo; she replied, with a peculiar smile.
+      &ldquo;Ere an hour shall pass not one of all these numerous guests will remain
+      here.&mdash;Ah, there comes the decision! See there, marquis!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The usher announced &ldquo;Banker Splittgerber.&rdquo; The old man entered followed by
+      two men of not very presentable appearance, and whose toilet was but
+      little in keeping with the brilliantly-decorated room and the aristocratic
+      guests.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Never heeding the sneers nor contemptuous smiles, the faithful book-keeper
+      wound his way, through the crowd of elegantly dressed ladies and
+      gentlemen, accompanied by the two men, up to Ebenstreit, who, with
+      instinctive politeness, had placed himself near Marie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; said Splittgerber, in a loud voice, &ldquo;this is Baron Ebenstreit
+      von Leuthen, principal of the banking-house Ludwig.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two gentlemen approached, one of them saying, &ldquo;They sent us here from
+      your office.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is not the place for business,&rdquo; replied Ebenstreit. &ldquo;Follow me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, gentlemen, remain here,&rdquo; cried Marie. &ldquo;Our guests present are such
+      intimate, devoted friends that we have nothing to conceal from them; but
+      on the contrary, I am convinced they will only be too happy of the
+      occasion to prove their friendship, of which they have so often assured
+      us.&mdash;These gentlemen demand the payment of a bill of exchange for
+      eighty thousand dollars. Take my portfolio, Ebenstreit; there is a pencil
+      in it. Go around and make a collection; undoubtedly the entire sum will be
+      soon noted down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ebenstreit approached the Baron von Frankenstein, saying: &ldquo;Pardon me if I
+      recall to your memory the sum of one thousand louis d&rsquo;ors, due for four
+      black horses three months since.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; cried the baron, &ldquo;this is a strange manner to collect one&rsquo;s
+      debts. We were invited to a feast, and a pistol is pointed at us,
+      demanding our debts to be cancelled!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How strange! How ridiculous!&rdquo; heard one here and there among the guests,
+      as they, with one accord, pressed toward the door to make their exit,
+      which they found fastened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remain,&rdquo; cried Marie, with stately dignity. &ldquo;I wish you honored guests to
+      be witness of this scene in the hour of justification, as you were also
+      present at the one when one of the noblest and best of men cursed me.&mdash;Banker
+      Splittgerber, take these bills of exchange for one hundred thousand
+      dollars. Pay these gentlemen, and devote the remainder to the other debts
+      as far as it will go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the three men withdrew by a side-drier, Marie exclaimed: &ldquo;I will now
+      explain to you that Baron von Leuthen is ruined&mdash;poor as a beggar
+      when he will not work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie,&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, terrified, rushing toward her, and seizing her
+      by the arm. &ldquo;Marie&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She threw off his hand from her in anger. &ldquo;Do not touch me, sir, and do
+      not presume either to address me with any endearments. You have yourself
+      said that our marriage was not a veritable one, but was like the union of
+      associates in business, and now I would inform you it is dissolved: the
+      one is a bankrupt; the other a woman whom you cursed, and who reclaims of
+      you four years of shame and degradation. You wonder at my speaking thus,
+      but you do not know this man, my friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As she spoke, a door opened at the farther end of the room, and Trude
+      entered in her simple dress, followed by Philip Moritz. Unobserved the two
+      glided behind the charming grotto which had been arranged with flowers and
+      wreaths in one of the niches. Every eye was turned upon the pale, stately
+      beauty, erect in the centre of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay here, for no one can see us,&rdquo; whispered Trude. &ldquo;I could not bear to
+      have you leave Berlin without hearing the justification of my dear Marie,
+      and may God pardon me for letting you come here unbeknown to her! Listen,
+      and pray to Him to forgive you the great injustice that you have done her.
+      Be quiet, that no one may see you, and Marie be angry with her old Trude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; continued Marie, with chilling contempt, &ldquo;you should know this man
+      before whom you have all bowed, pressed the hand, and called your friend,
+      because he was rich, and, thanks to his wealth alone, became a titled man&mdash;a
+      baron, buying the hand of a poor but noble maiden, whom he knew despised
+      him, and passionately loved another, having sworn eternal constancy to
+      him. I am that young girl. I begged, nay implored him, not to pursue me,
+      but he was void of pity, mocked my tears, and said he could buy my love,
+      and my heart would at last be touched by the influence of his wealth. I
+      should have preferred to die, but Fate ordered that the one I loved, by my
+      fault, should by imprisonment atone our brief dream of bliss. I could only
+      save him by accepting this man; these were the conditions. I became his
+      wife before the world, and took my oath in his presence to revenge myself,
+      and after four years I shall accomplish it. I have spent his money, and of
+      the rich man made a beggar. God be praised, I can now revenge myself in
+      freeing myself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Free yourself? It is not true! You are my wife still,&rdquo; replied
+      Ebenstreit, alarmed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A radiant smile flitted over Marie&rsquo;s face as she defied Ebenstreit with
+      the law of the Great Frederick, who had decided that every unhappy couple
+      without offspring could separate by their own free will and consent,
+      having signed a paper to that effect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that the paper which you have made me sign?&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit,
+      alarmed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, drawn up by my notary, and both of our names are signed to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a fraud!&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit. &ldquo;I will protest against it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do it, and you will find it a vain effort. I promised to pay your debt if
+      you would put your name to the document then placed before you, which you
+      did. Ask the Marquis Treves how I paid your debts: he will answer you that
+      he has given me the money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had the honor to pay to the baroness one hundred thousand dollars, as
+      she rightly informs you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; continued Marie, &ldquo;the marquis is the present possessor of this
+      house and all that it contains&mdash;furniture, statues, and pictures;
+      also the equipages and silver. To my mother I sent my diamonds, costly
+      laces, and dresses, to indemnify her for the annuity which Herr von
+      Ebenstreit settled upon her as purchase-money which he cannot pay, now
+      that he is ruined.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marquis,&rdquo; cried Ebenstreit, pale with anger, &ldquo;have you really bought this
+      house and its contents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have done so, and the one hundred thousand dollars the baroness has
+      paid over to Herr Splittgerber.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! I am ruined,&rdquo; groaned Ebenstreit&mdash;&ldquo;I am lost!&rdquo; and, covering his
+      face with his hands, he rushed from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie gazed at him with a sad expression, saying: &ldquo;Ladies and gentlemen,
+      you now know to whom this house belongs. You can no longer say that I am
+      the daughter whom the late General von Leuthen sold to a rich man. I am
+      free!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment a side-door opened, and Frau von Leuthen was heard saying
+      to old Trude: &ldquo;Let me in! it is in vain to hold me back. I will have an
+      explanation from my daughter, and learn what all this means.&rdquo; As she
+      pushed herself into the room, she exclaimed: &ldquo;Ah, it is a fete day! There
+      is the baroness in all her glory and splendor. She is not crazed, as I
+      feared this morning, when she sent me all her ornaments and fine dresses
+      and laces, with a note, sealed with black, inscribed upon it, &lsquo;Will Of the
+      Baroness Ebenstreit von Leuthen.&rsquo; I opened it, and read: &lsquo;I give to my
+      mother my precious ornaments, laces, and dresses, to secure to her the
+      pension which she has lost.&mdash;Marie. &lsquo;I came here to learn if my
+      daughter were dead, and what the conclusion of this lost pension may be,
+      and I find&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You find the confirmation of all that I wrote to you,&rdquo; replied Marie,
+      coldly. &ldquo;Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen is ruined. I have secured to you, in
+      the sum which my jewels and laces will bring you, the annuity, so that you
+      have not lost the money promised you for your daughter, and the marriage
+      you have arranged has at least borne good fruit to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a cruel, ungrateful child,&rdquo; cried the mother. &ldquo;I have long known
+      it, and rejected you from my heart, and from all shame I will yet protect
+      the name you bear. I have just seen a sign in the Friedrich-strasse,
+      &lsquo;Flower manufactory of Marie von Leuthen.&rsquo; What does this mean? Terrified,
+      I stared speechless at these fearful words, and at the busy workmen
+      preparing the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will explain it to you,&rdquo; cried Marie, with radiant mien. &ldquo;I have again
+      become the flower-maker, and beg your favor, Countess von Moltke, Frau von
+      Morien, and all the other ladies. I am free, and no longer the wife of a
+      hated husband&mdash;no longer the distinguished and wealthy woman. All
+      delusion and mockery have vanished. The costly dress and jewels that I now
+      wear I will cast of from me as the last souvenir of the past.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Unclasping the diamond necklace and bracelets, she handed them to her
+      mother, saying: &ldquo;Take them, and also this dress, the last finery I
+      possess.&rdquo; She unloosed the band, and the long white satin train fell at
+      her feet. Emerging from it as from a silvery cloud, she stood before them
+      in a simple white dress, as she was clothed in her girlhood. &ldquo;Take them
+      all,&rdquo; she joyfully cried. &ldquo;Take them, mother, it is all past. I am now
+      myself again. Farewell, witnesses of this scene! I now quit your circle;
+      and you, my mother, I forgive you; may the thoughts of your unhappy child
+      never trouble you, waking or sleeping; may you forget that your daughter
+      lives, and is wretched. Revenge has not softened my grief, or removed your
+      curse from my head!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will lift it off your brow, Marie!&rdquo; cried Moritz, suddenly appearing
+      from the window-niche, with beaming face and outstretched arms,
+      approaching Marie, whom surprised and alarmed, retreated. &ldquo;Oh, noble,
+      courageous woman, forgive me that I have been an unbidden witness to this
+      scene, though by this means I now clearly recognize your strength of mind,
+      and elevation of soul, and the wrong that I have committed in doubting and
+      cursing you during these four years of gloom and despair. I bow before
+      you, Marie, and implore you, upon my knees, to forgive me all the cruel,
+      harsh words that I have uttered&mdash;that I have dared as a wretched fool
+      to doubt you in this long night of despair. The day is dawning again upon
+      us; a new sun will yet cheer us with its rays. Do not turn from me, but
+      look at me, and grant me forgiveness.&mdash;My dear friend and father,
+      speak for me, for you know what I have suffered. Beg of her to forgive
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie,&rdquo; said the venerable old man, approaching her, gently putting his
+      arm around her, &ldquo;God has willed that you, my poor, long-tried child,
+      should pass through a season of extreme sorrow. You are now released, and
+      all that belonged to you has vanished!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke, he signed to the guests to withdraw. Many had already escaped
+      the painful scene by the side-door. Marie was now alone in the magnificent
+      apartment, with Herr Gedicke and Moritz. She still stood, with concealed
+      face, in the centre of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Marie,&rdquo; implored Moritz, &ldquo;hide not your dear face from me! Read in
+      mine the deep grief of the past and the bliss of the future. I thank God
+      that this unnatural union is severed, and that you are free. Be courageous
+      to the end!&rdquo; Moritz impetuously drew her hand away, revealing her tearful
+      countenance, as her head sank upon his shoulder. &ldquo;Can you not forgive me,
+      Marie?&rdquo; he cried, with deep emotion. &ldquo;We have both wandered through a
+      waste of grief, and now approach life radiant with happiness. Oh, speak to
+      me, Marie; can you not love me and forgive me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She gazed into his eyes, and in their depths read that which gradually
+      softened her hardened features, and caused a smile to play upon her lip.
+      &ldquo;I love you dearly, devotedly; let this be our parting word. Go forth into
+      the world, Moritz; my affection will follow you whithersoever you wander,
+      and my soul will be true to you through all eternity, though we are
+      forever separated. The poor wife, with her dismal retrospections, must not
+      cast a shadow upon your future. Go, my beloved&mdash;Italy awaits you, and
+      art will console you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Follow me, dear Marie; only by your side am I happy. You are free and
+      independent,&rdquo; cried Moritz.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, father,&rdquo; cried Marie, leaning upon the venerable old man, &ldquo;explain to
+      him that I am still the wife of that hated man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is right, Philip; do not urge her further. She must first be legally
+      separated, and this weary heart must have time to recover its wonted calm.
+      Go to Italy, and confide your future and happiness to my care. Marie has
+      lost a mother, but she shall find a father in me. I will watch over her
+      until your return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just then the door opened, and Trude entered. &ldquo;Every thing is ready; all
+      the things which used to stand in the little garret-room are packed and
+      sent to the manufactory. Shall we go, too, dear child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she cried, embracing the faithful old woman. &ldquo;Farewell, Philip&mdash;Italy
+      calls you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will go, but when I return will you not be my wife?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marie gazed at Moritz, radiant with happiness, saying: &ldquo;The answer is
+      engraven upon my heart. Return, and then I will joyfully respond to your
+      love before God and man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Fritz and the New Era, by Louise Muhlbach
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Old Fritz and the New Era
+
+Author: Louise Muhlbach
+
+Translator: Peter Langley
+
+Posting Date: January 28, 2009 [EBook #3460]
+Release Date: October, 2002
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA
+
+By L. Muhlbach
+
+
+Translated from the German by Peter Langley
+
+
+
+
+     BOOK I.
+
+     OLD FRITZ.
+
+     I. The Lonely King
+
+     II. Wilhelmine Enke
+
+     III. Frederick William
+
+     IV. The Drive to Berlin
+
+     V. The Oath of Fidelity
+
+     VI. The Parade
+
+     VII. The Miraculous Elixir
+
+     VIII. The Golden Rain
+
+     IX. German Literature and the King
+
+
+
+
+     BOOK II.
+
+     ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES.
+
+     X. Goethe in Berlin
+
+     XI. The Inner and the Middle Temple
+
+     XII. The Jesuit General
+
+     XIII. A Pensioned General
+
+     XIV. The King's Letter
+
+     XV. Hate and Love
+
+     XVI. Charles Augustus and Goethe
+
+     XVII. Goethe's Visits
+
+     XVIII. Farewell to Berlin
+
+
+
+
+     BOOK III.
+
+     STORM AND PRESSURE.
+
+     XIX. The King and the Austrian Diplomat
+
+     XX. The King and the Lover
+
+     XXI. In Weimar
+
+     XXII. The Reading
+
+     XXIII. Witchcraft
+
+     XXIV. The Purse-Proud Man
+
+     XXV. The Elopement
+
+     XXVI. Under the Starry Heavens
+
+     XXVII. The Sacrifice
+
+
+
+
+     BOOK IV.
+
+     THE VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES.
+
+     XXVIII. Old Fritz
+
+     XXIX. Cagliostro's Return
+
+     XXX. The Triumvirate
+
+     XXXI. Future Plans
+
+     XXXII. Miracles and Spirits
+
+     XXXIII. The Return Home
+
+     XXXIV. Behind the Mask
+
+     XXXV. The Curse
+
+     XXXVI. The King and the Rosicrucians
+
+     XXXVII. The Espousals
+
+     XXXVIII. Revenge Fulfilled
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+I would merely say a few words in justification of the Historical
+Romance, in its relation to history. Any one, with no preceding profound
+study of history, who takes a few well-known historical facts as a
+foundation for an airy castle of romantic invention and fantastic
+adventure, may easily write an Historical Romance; for him history is
+only the nude manikin which he clothes and adorns according to his own
+taste, and to which he gives the place and position most agreeable
+to himself. But only the writer who is in earnest with respect
+to historical truth, who is not impelled by levity or conceited
+presumption, is justified in attempting this species of composition;
+thoroughly impressed with the greatness of his undertaking, he will with
+modest humility constantly remember that he has proposed to himself
+a great and sublime work which, however, it will be difficult if not
+impossible for him wholly and completely to accomplish.
+
+But what is this great, this sublime end, which the Historical Romance
+writer proposes to attain? It is this: to illustrate history, to
+popularize it; to bring forth from the silent studio of the scholar and
+to expose in the public market of life, for the common good, the great
+men and great deeds embalmed in history, and of which only the studious
+have hitherto enjoyed the monopoly. Thus, at least, have I considered
+the vocation I have chosen, not vainly or inconsiderately, but with
+a profound conviction of the greatness of my undertaking, and with
+a depressing consciousness that my power and acquirements may prove
+inadequate for the attainment of my proposed end.
+
+But I am also fully conscious of what was and still is my greatest
+desire: to give an agreeable and popular form to our national history,
+which may attract the attention and affections of our people, which may
+open their understandings to the tendencies of political movements, and
+connect the facts of history with the events of actual life.
+
+The severe historian has to do but with accomplished facts; he can only
+record and describe, with the strictest regard to truth, that which has
+outwardly occurred. He describes the battles of peoples, the struggles
+of nations, the great deeds of heroes, the actions of princes--in short,
+he gives the accomplished facts. To investigate and explain the secret
+motives, the hidden causes of these facts, to present them in connection
+with all that impelled to them, this is the task of Historical Romance.
+
+The historian presents to you the outward face, the external form of
+history; Historical Romance would show you the heart of history, and
+thus bring near to your heart what, else, would stand so far off. To
+enable him to do this, the writer of an Historical Romance must, indeed,
+make severe and various studies. He must devote his whole mind and soul
+to the epoch he would illustrate, he must live in it and feel with it.
+He must so familiarize himself with all the details, as in a manner to
+become a child of that epoch; for he can present a really living image
+of only that which is living in himself. That this requires a deep and
+earnest study of history is self-evident. Historical Romance demands the
+study of the historian, together with the creative imagination of the
+poet. For the free embodiment of the poet can blossom only from out
+the studio of the historian, as the flower from the seed; as, by a
+reciprocal organic action, the hyacinth is derived from the onion, and
+the rose from its seed-capsule, so are history and poetry combined
+in the Historical Romance, giving and receiving life to and from each
+other.
+
+The Historical Romance has its great task and its great justification--a
+truth disputed by only those who either have not understood or will not
+understand its nature.
+
+The Historical Romance has, if I may be allowed so to speak, four
+several objects for which to strive:
+
+Its first object is, to throw light upon the dark places of history,
+necessarily left unclear by the historian. Poetry has the right and duty
+of setting facts in a clear light, and of illuminating the darkness
+by its sunny beams. The poetry of the romance writer seeks to deduce
+historical characteristics from historical facts, and to draw from the
+spirit of history an elucidation of historical characters, so that the
+writer may be able to detect their inmost thoughts and feelings, and in
+just and sharp traits to communicate them to others.
+
+The second task of Historical Romance is, to group historical characters
+according to their internal natures, and thus to elucidate and
+illustrate history. This illustration then leads to the third task,
+which is the discovery and exposition of the motives which impel
+individual historical personages to the performance of great historical
+acts, and from outwardly, apparently insignificant events in their lives
+to deduce their inmost thoughts and natures, and represent them clearly
+to others.
+
+Thence follows the fourth task: the illustration of historical facts
+by a romance constructed in the spirit of the history. This fourth and
+principal task is the presentation of history in a dramatic form and
+with animated descriptions; upon the foundation of history to erect the
+temple of poesy, which must nevertheless be pervaded and illuminated by
+historic truth. From this it naturally follows that it is of very little
+consequence whether the personages of the Historical Romance actually
+spoke the words or performed the acts attributed to them; it is only
+necessary that those words and deeds should be in accordance with the
+spirit and character of such historical personages, and that the writer
+should not attribute to them what they could not have spoken or done.
+In the Historical Romance, when circumstances or events are presented in
+accordance with historical tradition, when the characters are naturally
+described, they bear with them their own justification, and Historical
+Romance has need of no further defence.
+
+Historical Romance should be nothing but an illustration of history. If
+the drawing, grouping, coloring, and style of such an illustration
+of any given historical epoch are admitted to be true, then the
+illustration rises to the elevation of a work of art, worthy of a place
+beside the historical picture, and is equally useful.
+
+Raphael's "School of Athens," his "Institution of the Communion," and
+many others of his pictures, are such illustrations of history--as also
+the great paintings of Rubens from the life of Anna dei Medici; and then
+the historical pictures of Horace Vernet, of Delaroche, of Lessing, and
+of Kaulbach--all these are illustrations of history. What those artists
+present and illustrate with paint and pencil, the Historical Romancer
+represents in words with his pen; and when he does this successfully,
+he will live in the memory of his reader as imperishably as the great
+historical pictures of the painters in the memory of their beholders.
+
+It would occur to no one to accuse a successful historical picture of
+falsehood, because the books of history do not show that the occurrence
+took place precisely in the manner represented, that the historical
+personages really so laughed or wept, or so deported themselves. If
+the situation and grouping of historical events are allowed to be in
+accordance with the general tenor of history, then the picture may be
+pronounced historically true, and is just as good a piece of history as
+the record of the special historian. It is the same with the pictures
+of the romancer as with those of the painter; and this is my answer to
+those who, on every occasion, are continually asking: "Was it really
+thus? Did it really occur in that manner?"
+
+Show me from history that it could not be so; that it is not in
+accordance with the character of the persons represented--then I will
+confess that I am wrong, and you are right; then have I not presented an
+illustration, but only a caricature of history, faulty as a work of art,
+and wanting the dignity of truth.
+
+I am conscious of having earnestly and devotedly striven for the truth,
+and of having diligently sought it in all attainable historical works.
+The author of an Historical Romance has before him a difficult task:
+while he must falsify nothing in history, he must poetize it in a manner
+that both historical and poetic truth shall be the result. To those,
+however, who so very severely judge Historical Romance, and would deny
+its historical worth, I now, in conclusion, answer with the following
+significant quotation from Schiller:
+
+"I shall always prove a bad resource for any future historian who may
+have the misfortune to recur to me. History is generally only a magazine
+for my fantasy, and objects must be contented with whatever they may
+become under my hand."--(See Weisnar's "Musenhof," p. 93.)
+
+This declaration of Schiller satisfies me with respect to the nature of
+my own creations. I desire not to be a resource for historical writers,
+but I shall always earnestly and zealously seek to draw from the
+wells of history, that nothing false or unreal may find a place in the
+"magazine of my fantasy."
+
+CLARA MUNDT,
+
+(L. MUEHLBACH. )
+
+BERLIN, September 22, 1866.
+
+
+
+
+
+OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK I. OLD FRITZ.
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE LONELY KING.
+
+
+"Well, so let it be!" said the king, sighing, as he rose from his
+arm-chair; "I must go forth to the strife, and these old limbs must
+again submit to the fatigue of war. But what matters it? The life of
+princes is passed in the fulfilment of duties and responsibilities,
+and rarely is it gladdened with the sunny rays of joy and peace! Let us
+submit!
+
+"Yes, let us submit!" repeated the king, thoughtfully, slowly pacing his
+cabinet back and forth, his hands folded upon his staff behind him, and
+his favorite dog, Alkmene, sleepily following him.
+
+It was a melancholy picture to see this bowed-down old man; his thin,
+pale face shaded by a worn-out, three-cornered hat, his dirty uniform
+strewn with snuff; and his meagre legs encased in high-topped,
+unpolished boots; his only companion a greyhound, old and joyless as
+his master. Neither the bust of Voltaire, with its beaming, intelligent
+face, nor those of his friends, Lord-Marshal Keith and the Marquis
+d'Argens, could win an affectionate glance from the lonely old king.
+He whom Europe distinguished as the Great Frederick, whom his subjects
+called their "father and benefactor," whose name was worthy to shine
+among the brightest stars of heaven, his pale, thin lips just murmured,
+"Resignation!"
+
+With downcast eyes he paced his cabinet, murmuring, "Let us submit!"
+He would not look up to those who were gazing down upon him from the
+walls--to those who were no more. The remembrance of them unnerved
+him, and filled his heart with grief. The experiences of life, and the
+ingratitude of men, had left many a scar upon this royal heart, but had
+never hardened it; it was still overflowing with tender sympathy
+and cherished memories. To Lord-Marshal Keith, Marquis d'Argens, and
+Voltaire, Frederick owed the happiest years of his life.
+
+D'Argens, who passionately loved Frederick, had been dead five years;
+Lord-Marshal Keith one month; and Voltaire was dying! This intelligence
+the king had received that very morning, from his Paris correspondent,
+Grimm. It was this that filled his heart with mourning. The face, that
+smiled so full of intelligence, was perhaps distorted with agony, and
+those beaming eyes were now closing in death!
+
+Voltaire was dying!
+
+Frederick's thoughts were with the dead and dying--with the past! He
+recalled, when crown prince at Rheinsberg, how much he had admired,
+loved, and distinguished Voltaire; how he rejoiced, and how honored he
+felt, when, as a young king, Voltaire yielded to his request to live
+with him at Berlin. This intimacy, it is true, did not long continue;
+the king was forced to recognize, with bitter regret, that the MAN
+Voltaire was not worthy the love which he bestowed upon the POET. He
+renounced the MAN, but the poet was still his admiration; and all the
+perfidy, slander and malice of Voltaire, had never changed Frederick.
+The remembrance of it had long since faded from his noble heart--only
+the memory of the poet, of the author of so many hours of the purest
+enjoyment, remained.
+
+Voltaire was dying!
+
+This great and powerful spirit, who so long a time, in the natural body,
+had instructed, inspired, and refreshed mankind, would leave that body
+to rise--whither?
+
+"Immortality, what art thou?" asked the king, aloud, and for the first
+time raising his eyes with an inquiring glance to the busts of his
+friends. "I have sought for thee, I have toiled for thee, my whole
+life long! Neither the researches of the learned, nor the subtleties of
+philosophy reveal thee to me. Is there any other immortality than
+fame? Any other eternal life than that which the memory of succeeding
+generations grants to the dead?" In this tone of thought Frederick
+recited, audibly, the conclusion of a poem, which he had addressed to
+D'Alembert:
+
+"I have consecrated my days to philosophy, I admit all the innocent
+pleasures of life; And knowing that soon my course will finish, I enjoy
+the present with fear of the future. What is there to fear after death?
+If the body and the mind suffer the same fate, I shall return and mingle
+with nature; If a remnant of my intellectual fire escapes death, I will
+flee to the arms of my God." [Footnote: Posthumous works, vol. vii.,
+p.88.]
+
+"And may this soon be granted me!" continued the king; "then I shall be
+reunited to those loved ones--gone before. I must be content to tarry
+awhile in this earthly vale of sorrow, and finish the task assigned me
+by the Great Teacher; therefore, let us submit."
+
+He sighed; pacing to and fro, his steps were arrested at a side-table,
+where lay a long black velvet box; it contained the flute that his
+beloved teacher, Quantz, had made for him. Frederick had always kept
+it in his cabinet as a memento of his lost friend; as this room he had
+devoted to a temple of Memory--of the past!
+
+"Another of the joys, another of the stars of my life vanished!"
+murmured the king. "My charming concerts are at an end! Quantz, Brenda,
+and my glorious Graun are no more. While they are listening to the
+heavenly choir, I must be content with the miserable, idle chatter
+of men; the thunder of battle deafening my ears, to which that mad,
+ambitious Emperor of Austria hopes to force me!"
+
+As the king thus soliloquized, he involuntarily drew from the box the
+beautiful ebony flute, exquisitely ornamented with silver. A smile
+played around his delicate mouth. He raised the flute to his lips, and
+a melancholy strain floated through the stillness--the king's requiem to
+the dead, his farewell to the dying!
+
+No sound of the outer world penetrated that lonely room. The guard of
+honor, on duty upon the Sans-Souci terrace, halted suddenly, as the
+sad music fell upon his ear. The fresh spring breeze swept through the
+trees, and drove the laden-blossomed elder-bushes tapping against the
+windowpanes, as if to offer a May-greeting to the lonely king. The
+servant in waiting stole on tiptoe to the door of the anteroom,
+listening breathlessly at the key-hole to the moving melody.
+
+Even Alkmene suddenly raised her head as if something unusual were
+taking place, fixed her great eyes upon her master, jumping upon his
+knee, and resting her fore-paws lovingly upon his breast.
+
+Frederick neither observed nor felt the movement of his favorite; his
+thoughts were absent from the present--absent from the earth! They were
+wandering in the unknown future, with the spirits of those he longed to
+see again in the Elysian fields.
+
+The wailing music of his flute expressed the lamentation of his
+soul, and his eyes filled with tears as he raised them to the bust
+of Voltaire, gazing at it with a look of pain until the melody was
+finished. Then abruptly turning, half unwillingly, half angrily, he
+returned the flute to the box, and stole away, covering his face with
+his hands, as if to hide his emotion from himself.
+
+"Now we have finished with the dead, and the living claim our thoughts,"
+sighed the king. "What an absurd thing is the human heart! It will never
+grow cold or old; always pretending to a spark of the fire which that
+shameful fellow Prometheus stole from the gods. What an absurdity! What
+have I, an old fellow, to do with the fire of Prometheus, when the
+fire of war will soon rage around me," At this instant the door gently
+opened. "What do you want, Muller? What do you poke your stupid face in
+here for?" said the king.
+
+"Pardon me, your majesty," replied the footman, "the Baron von Arnim
+begs for an audience."
+
+"Bid him enter," commanded the king, sinking back in his old, faded
+velvet arm-chair. Resting his chin upon his staff, he signed to the
+baron, who stood bowing upon the threshold, to approach. "Well, Arnim,
+what is the matter? What papers have you there?"
+
+"Sire," answered Baron von Arnim, "the contract of the French actors,
+which needs renewing, I have to lay before your majesty; also a paper,
+received yesterday, from Madame Mara; still another from the singer
+Conciliani, and a petition from four persons from the opera."
+
+"What stupid stuff!" growled the king, at the same time bestowing a
+caress upon Alkmene. "Commence with your report. Let us hear what those
+singers are now asking for."
+
+"The singer Conciliani has addressed a heart-breaking letter to your
+majesty, and prays for an increase of salary--that it is impossible for
+him to live upon three thousand dollars."
+
+"Ah! that is what is wanted?" cried the king, furious, and striking his
+staff upon the floor. "The fellow is mad; When he cannot live upon
+three thousand, he will not be able to live upon four. I want money for
+cannon. I cannot spend it for such nonsense. I am surprised, Von Arnim
+that you repeat such stuff to me."
+
+"Your majesty, it is my duty that I--"
+
+"What! Your duty is not to flatter them. I pay them to give me pleasure,
+not presumption. Remember, once for all, do not flatter them. Conciliani
+will get no increase of salary. If he persists, let him go to the
+mischief! This is my decision.--Proceed! What is Madame Mara begging
+for?"
+
+"Madame Mara constantly refuses to sing the airs which your majesty
+commanded to be introduced into the opera of 'Coriolanus.' She has
+taken the liberty to address you in writing; here is the letter, if your
+majesty will have the grace to read it."
+
+"By no means, sir, by no means!" cried the king; at the same instant
+catching the paper with his staff, he slung it like a shot arrow to the
+farthest corner of the room, to the great amusement of Alkmene, who,
+with a loud bark, sprang from her master's knee, and with a bound caught
+the strange bird, and tore it in pieces. "You are right, my pet," said
+the king, laughing, "you have written my answer with your nose to this
+arrogant person. Director, say to Madame Mara that I pay her to sing,
+not to write. She must sing both airs, or she may find herself at
+Spandau for her obstinacy, where her husband is, for the same reason.
+She can reflect, and judge for herself."
+
+The director could scarcely repress a sigh, foreboding the disagreeable
+scene that he would have to encounter with the proud and passionate
+singer. Timidly Von Arnim alluded to the four persons from the opera.
+"Who are these demoiselles, and what do they want?" asked the king.
+
+"Sire," replied the Baron von Arnim, "they are the four persons who
+personate the role of court ladies and maids of honor to the queens and
+princesses. They beg your majesty to secure to them a fixed income."
+
+"Indeed! Go to my writing-table and bring paper and pencil; I will
+dictate a reply to them," said the king. "Now write, Von Arnim: 'To the
+four court ladies and maids of honor of the opera: You are mistaken in
+addressing yourselves to me; the affair of your salaries concerns YOUR
+emperors and kings. To them you must address yourselves.--Adieu.'"
+
+Von Arnim could scarcely repress a smile.
+
+"Now we come to the last affair--the salaries and pensions of the French
+actors," said the king; "but first tell me the news in Berlin--what
+report has trumpeted forth in the last few days."
+
+"Your majesty, the latest news in Berlin, which rumor brings home to
+every hearth-side and every heart is, that your majesty has declared war
+with Austria on account of the Bavarian succession. Every one rejoices,
+sire, that you will humble that proud and supercilious house of Austria,
+and enter the lists for Germany."
+
+"Listen!" answered the king, sternly. "I did not ask you to blow the
+trumpet of praise, as if your honor, inspector of the theatres, thought
+yourself upon the stage, and would commence a comedy with the king of
+lamps. So it is known then that my soldiers will enter the great theatre
+of war, and that we are about to fight real battles."
+
+"It is known, sire," replied Von Arnim, bowing.
+
+"Then what I am about to communicate to you will not surprise you. The
+present juncture of affairs leads us to await very grave scenes--we can
+well dispense with comedy. I withdraw the salaries and pensions of the
+French actors--your own is included. After you have dismissed the
+French comedians, you will be entirely at leisure to pursue your
+love-intrigues.--Farewell!"
+
+"Your majesty," cried the baron, amazed, "has your highness dismissed
+me?"
+
+"Are you deaf, or have you some of the cotton in your ears which I
+presented to you at your recall from Copenhagen?" replied the king.
+[Footnote: Baron von Arnim was ambassador to Copenhagen until 1754, when
+he begged for his recall, stating that the damp climate was injurious
+to his health. The king granted his request, and the baron returned to
+Berlin. At the first audience with the king, Frederick handed Baron von
+Arnim a carefully-packed box, saying, "I do not wish the government to
+lose so valuable a servant; in this box you will find something that
+will keep you warm." Arnim could scarcely await his return home, to open
+the box; it contained nothing but cotton. Some days afterward, however,
+the king increased Von Arnim's income a thousand dollars, and sent him
+ambassador to Dresden. Von Arnim was afterward director of the Royal
+Theatre until dismissed in the above manner.]
+
+"Sire, I have heard all, but I cannot believe it."
+
+"Yes, yes," interrupted the king, "To believe is difficult; you, I
+presume, never belonged to the pious and believing. Your intrigues would
+not admit of it; but now you have the leisure to pursue them with a
+right good-will. You have only to discharge, as I have said, the entire
+French troupe, and the whole thing is done with.--Adieu, Arnim, may you
+be prospered!"
+
+Baron von Arnim muttered some incomprehensible words, and retreated
+from the royal presence. The door had scarcely closed, when it was again
+opened without ceremony by a young man, wearing a gold-laced dress.
+
+"Your majesty," said he, hastily, in an undertone, "your majesty,
+she has just gone to the Palace Park, just the same hour she went
+yesterday."
+
+"Is she alone?" asked the king, rising.
+
+"No, she is not alone; at a little distance the nurse follows with the
+princely infant!"
+
+The king cast an angry glance at the saucy, laughing face of the young
+man, who at once assumed a devoted, earnest mien. "Has your majesty any
+further commands?" asked he, timidly.
+
+"I command you to hold your tongue until you are spoken to!" replied
+the king, harshly. "You understand spying and hanging about, as you have
+good ears, a quick eye, and a keen scent. I therefore make use of you,
+because I need a spy; but, understand that a fellow who allows himself
+to be used as a spy, is, indeed, a useful subject, but generally a
+worthless one, and to whom it is becoming to be modest and humble. I
+am now going to Berlin; you will accompany me. Take off your finery, so
+that every one may not recognize at once the peacock by his feathers.
+Go to the taverns and listen to what they say about the war; whether the
+people are much dissatisfied about it. Keep your great ears wide open,
+and bring me this evening all the latest news. Go, now, tell my coachman
+to be ready; in half an hour I shall set off."
+
+The young man slunk away to the door, but stood without opening it, his
+head down, and his under-lip hanging out.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the king, in a milder tone, "why do you not
+go, Kretzschmar?"
+
+"I cannot go away if your majesty is angry with me," muttered the
+servant, insolently. "I do not wish to hear or see any thing more for
+you when your majesty abuses me, and considers me such a mean, base
+fellow. Your majesty first commanded me to listen, and spy, and now that
+I am obeying, I am despised and scolded for it. I will have nothing
+more to do with it, and I wish your majesty to leave me a simple footman
+rather than to accord me such a mean position."
+
+"I did not mean so badly," said the king. "I mean well enough for
+you; but you must not permit yourself to be arrogant or disrespectful,
+otherwise you may go to Tophet! You are no common spy, you are listening
+about a little because you know I am fond of hearing what the people are
+saying, and what is going on in Berlin and Potsdam. But take care that
+they know nothing about it, otherwise they will be careful, and you will
+hear nothing. Now be off, and in order to see a cheerful face on you,
+I will make you a present." The king drew from his vest-pocket a purse,
+well filled with small coin, and gave it to the young man, who took it,
+though he still looked angry and insolent. "Do not let your under-lip
+hang down so, for I may step upon it," said the king. "Put the money in
+your pocket, and hurry off to tell old Pfund to harness quickly, or I
+shall not arrive in time at the park."
+
+"There is no danger, your majesty, for the miss seems very fond of the
+promenade; she remained two hours in the park yesterday, always walking
+in the most quiet places, as if she were afraid to meet any one. She sat
+a whole hour on the iron seat by the Carp Pond, and then she went to the
+Philosopher's Walk, and skipped about like a young colt."
+
+"You are a very cunning fellow, and know how to use your eyes well,"
+said the king. "Now be off, and order the carriage."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. WILHELMINE ENKE.
+
+The Palace Park was as quiet and deserted as usual. Not a voice, not a
+sound, disturbed the stillness of those silent walks. For this reason,
+undoubtedly, a young lady had sought it; at least her whole being
+expressed satisfaction and delight to wander unobserved through those
+quiet, shady alleys. She was of slight and elegant proportions, simply
+attired, without pretension, in a dark dress of some thin silk material.
+Her black silk mantle was thrown aside upon the stone seat near her,
+uncovering thus, in solitude, to the sun and birds, her lovely neck and
+arms, the beauty of which might rival the statues of the ancients. Her
+face was not of regular beauty, yet it possessed that expression of
+grace, spirit, and energy, which is oftener a more powerful and more
+enduring charm than regular beauty. Her large, expressive black eyes
+possessed a wonderful power, and her red, pouting lips wore a sweet
+smile; her fine Roman nose lent an air of decision, whilst her
+high-arched forehead led one to believe that daring, energetic thought
+lay hidden beneath those clusters of brown curls. She was not in the
+bloom of youth, but at twenty-five she appeared younger than many
+beauties at eighteen; and if her form no longer possessed the charm
+of girlhood, it was attractive from its suppleness and full, beautiful
+bust.
+
+"Louisa, Louisa, where are you?" cried the young lady, stepping quickly
+forward toward a side-path, which led from the broad avenue, and at the
+end of which was a sunny grassplot.
+
+"Here I am, miss; I am coming."
+
+"Miss," murmured the young lady, "how dreadfully it sounds! The blush of
+shame rises to my face, for it sounds like bitter mockery and contempt,
+and brings my whole life before me. Yet, I must endure it--and I
+scarcely wish it were otherwise. Ah, there you are, Louisa, and there
+is my beautiful boy," she cried, with a glad voice, hastening toward the
+peasant-woman and bending fondly over her child. "How beautiful and how
+knowing he looks! It seems as if my little Alexander began to recognize
+me--he looks so earnest and sensible."
+
+"He knows you, miss," said the nurse, courtesying, "and he knows, like
+other children, who loves him. Children and dogs know who love them. The
+children cry, and the dogs hide themselves when people are around who
+dislike them."
+
+"Nonsense, Louisa!" laughed the young lady, as she bent to kiss her
+child--"nonsense! did not my little boy cry when his father took him
+yesterday? And he loves his child most tenderly, as only a father can."
+
+"Oh, there is another reason for that," said the nurse. "He has just
+passed his first stupid three months, and he begins to hear and see what
+passes around him, and it was the first man's face that he had seen. But
+only look, miss, what a beautiful little dog is coming up the path."
+It was indeed a lovely greyhound, of the small Italian race, which came
+bounding joyfully toward them, and as he saw the woman barked loudly.
+
+"Be quiet, Alkmene, be quiet!" cried a loud, commanding voice.
+
+"Oh, Heaven! it is the king!" whispered the young lady, turning pale,
+and, as if stunned, retreated a few steps.
+
+"Yes, it is really the king," cried the nurse, "and he is coming
+directly from the grass-plot here."
+
+"Let us go as quickly as possible, Louisa. Come, come," and she hastily
+threw her mantle around her, drawing the hood over her curly head. She
+had only proceeded a few steps, when a loud voice bade her to remain--to
+stand still. She stood as if rooted to the spot, leaning upon her nurse
+for support; her knees sank under her, and it seemed as if the whole
+world turned around with her. After the first tumult of anxiety and
+fear, succeeded an insolent determination, and, forcing herself to
+calmness, she said: "It is the turning-point of my life; the next few
+minutes will either crush me or assure my future; let me struggle
+for the future, then. I will face him who approaches me as my judge."
+Forcing herself to composure, slowly and with effort she turned toward
+the king, who, approaching by the side path, had entered the avenue,
+and now stood before her. But as she encountered the fiery glance of the
+king's eye, she quailed before it, casting down her own, covered with
+confusion.
+
+"Who are you?" demanded the king, with stern authority, keeping his
+eagle eye fixed upon her. Silent and immovable she stood; only the
+quick, feverish breathing and the heaving bosom told the storm that was
+raging within.
+
+"Who are you?" repeated the voice, with still more severity--"who permit
+themselves to use my park as a nursery? What child is that? and who are
+its parents? They should be of high position at court, who would dare
+to send their child and nurse to the royal park; and with what joy they
+must regard the offspring of their conjugal tenderness! Tell me to whom
+does this child belong?"
+
+Sobbing convulsively, the lady sank, kneeling, with uplifted arms,
+imploring for mercy. "Sire, annihilate me with your anger, but do not
+crush me with your scorn!"
+
+"What language do you permit yourself to hold?" asked the king.
+
+"Sire, it is the language of an unhappy, despairing woman, who knows
+that she stands before that great monarch whose judgment she fears more
+than that of her God, who sees into her heart, and reads the tortures
+and reproaches of her conscience; who knows what she suffers, and knows,
+also, that she is free from self-interest, and every base desire. I
+believe that God will forgive what I fear your majesty will not."
+
+"You speak presumptuously, and remind me of the theatre princesses
+who represent a grand scene with a pathetic exit. Let me inform you,
+I despise comedians--only high tragedy pleases me. Spare yourself the
+trouble to act before me, but answer me--who are you? Whose child is
+that?"
+
+"Sire, only God and my king should hear my reply--I beg the favor to
+send away the nurse and child." The king assented, slightly nodding his
+head, at the same time bidding her not to kneel to him as to an image.
+
+The lady rose and sought the nurse, who, from fright, had withdrawn into
+the shrubbery, and stood staring at the king with wide-open eyes. "Go
+home, Louisa, and put the child to sleep," said she, quickly.
+
+The nurse obeyed promptly, and when alone, the king demanded again, "Who
+are you? and to whom does the child belong?"
+
+"Your majesty, I am the daughter of your chapel musician Enke, and the
+child is the son of Prince Frederick William of Prussia," she replied,
+in a firm and defiant manner.
+
+The king's eyes flashed as he glanced at the bold speaker. "You say so,
+but who vouches for the truth of it? You permit yourself to use a
+high name, to give your child an honorable father! What temerity! what
+presumption! What if I should not believe you, but send you to the house
+of correction, at Spandau, as a slanderer, as guilty of high-treason, as
+a sinner and an adulteress?"
+
+"You could not do it, sire--you could not," cried Wilhelmine Enke, "for
+you would also send there the honor and the name of your successor to
+the throne."
+
+"What do you mean?" cried the king, furiously.
+
+"I mean, your majesty, that the prince has holy duties toward me. I am
+the mother of that child!"
+
+"You acknowledge your shame, and you dare confess it to me, your king,
+that you are the favorite, the kept mistress of the Prince of Prussia,
+who has already a wife that has borne him children? You do not even seek
+to deny it, or to excuse yourself?"
+
+"I would try to excuse myself, did I not feel that your majesty would
+not listen to me."
+
+"What excuse could you offer?--there is none."
+
+"Love is my excuse," cried Wilhelmine, eagerly. "Oh! my ruler and king,
+do not shake your noble head so unbelievingly; do not look at me so
+contemptuously. Oh, Father in heaven, I implore Thee to quicken my
+mind, that my thoughts may become words, and my lips utter that which
+is burning in my soul! In all these years of my poor, despised, obscure
+life, how often have I longed for this hour when I might stand before
+my king, when I might penitently clasp his knees and implore mercy for
+myself and my children--those poor, nameless beings, whose existence is
+my accusation, and yet who are the pride and joy of my life! Oh, sire,
+I will not accuse, to excuse myself; I will not cast the stone at others
+which they have cast at me. But it is scarcely charitable to judge and
+condemn a young girl fourteen years of age, who did but obey the command
+of her parents, and followed the man who was the first and only one that
+ever whispered the word of love in her ear."
+
+"I have heard that your parents sold their child to shame. Is it true?"
+cried the king.
+
+"Sire, my father was poor; the scanty income of a chapel musician
+scarcely sufficed to educate and support four children. The prince
+promised my father to educate me."
+
+"Bah! The promises of a young man of twenty-five are made without
+reflection, and rarely ever fulfilled."
+
+"Sire, to the Prince of Prussia I owe all that I know, and all that I
+am; his promise to my dying father was fully redeemed."
+
+"Indeed, by whom were you taught, and what have you learned?"
+
+"Your majesty, the prince wished, before all, that I should learn to
+speak French. Madame Girard was my French instructress, and taught me to
+play the guitar and spinet also."
+
+"Oh, I presume you have learned to jabber a little French and drum a
+little music," said the king, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+"I beg pardon, sire; I have a tolerable knowledge of history and of
+geography. I am familiar with the ancient and modern poets. I have read
+a good French translation of Homer, Horace, and Virgil, with a master. I
+have studied the history of Brandenburg, of Germany, and of America. We
+have read the immortal works of Voltaire, of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and
+of Shakespeare, with many of our modern poets. My instructor has read
+all these works aloud to me, and he was much pleased when I repeated
+parts of what he had read to me some days afterward."
+
+"You appear to have had a very learned instructor," remarked the king,
+sneeringly. "What is his name?"
+
+"His name, sire, is Prince Frederick William of Prussia. Yes, it is
+he who has taught me--he who has made me an intelligent woman. However
+young he was when he undertook the task, he has accomplished it with
+fidelity, firmness, and patience. He loved me, and would make me worthy
+of him, in heart and mind. I shall ever be grateful to him, and only
+death can extinguish the love and esteem with which he in spires me."
+
+"Suppose I command you to leave the prince? Suppose I will no longer
+endure the scandal of this sinful relation?"
+
+"I shall never willingly separate myself from my dear prince and
+master--from the father of my two children. Your majesty will be obliged
+to force me from him," answered Wilhelmine, defiantly.
+
+"Oh, that will not be necessary, mademoiselle," cried the king. "There
+are ways enough. I will make known my wishes to the prince; I will
+command him to leave you, and have no further communication with you."
+
+"Sire," she answered, gently, "I know that the prince is an obedient
+and respectful subject and servant to his king in all things, but this
+command he would not obey."
+
+"He would not dare to brave my commands!"
+
+"He would not brave them, sire. Oh, no; it would be simply impossible to
+obey them."
+
+"What would hinder him?"
+
+"Love, sire; the respect which he owes to me as the mother of his two
+children--who has consecrated her love, her honor to him, and of whom no
+one can say that she has injured the fidelity which she has sworn to
+the prince--to the man of her first and only love--even with a word or
+look."
+
+"You mean to say, that I cannot separate you from the prince but by
+force?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty," cried she, with conscious power, "that is exactly
+what I mean."
+
+"You will find yourself deceived; you will be made to realize it," said
+the king, with a menacing tone. "You know nothing of the power that lies
+in a legitimate marriage, and what rivals legitimate children are, whom
+one dares acknowledge before God--before the world. Boast not of the
+love of the prince, but remember that an honorable solitude is the only
+situation becoming to you. Such connections bear their own curse and
+punishment with them. Hasten to avoid them. Lastly, I would add, never
+dare to mingle your impure hands in the affairs of state. I have been
+obliged to give the order to the state councillors in appointments and
+grants of office, not to regard the protection and recommendation of a
+certain high personage, as you are the real protectress and bestower of
+mercy. Take care, and never let it happen again. You will never venture
+to play the little Pompadour here, nor anything else but what your
+dishonor allows you; otherwise you will have to deal with me! You say
+that you have read Homer; then, doubtless, you remember the story of
+Penelope, who, from conjugal fidelity, spun and wove, undoing at night
+what she had woven by day. It is true, you bear little resemblance to
+this chaste dame, but you might emulate her in spinning and weaving; and
+if you are not in future retiring, I can easily make a modern Penelope
+of you, and have you instructed in spinning, for which you will have the
+best of opportunities in the house of correction at Spandau. Remember
+this, and never permit yourself to practise protection. I will keep
+the spinning-wheel and the wool ready for you; that you may count upon.
+Remember, also, that it is very disagreeable to me that you visit my
+park, as I like to breathe pure air. Direct your promenade elsewhere,
+and avoid meeting me in future."
+
+"Your majesty, I--"
+
+"Silence! I have heard sufficient. You have nothing more to say to me.
+Go, hide your head, that no one may recognize your shame, or the levity
+of the prince. Go--and, farewell forever!" He motioned impatiently to
+her to retire, fastening his eyes with a fiery, penetrating glance upon
+her pale, agitated face, her bowed, humble attitude, and still continued
+to regard her as she painfully dragged herself down the walk, as if her
+limbs were giving way under her. Long stood the king gazing after her,
+resting upon his staff; and as she disappeared at the end of the walk,
+he still stood there immovable. By degrees his face assumed a milder
+expression. "He who is free from sin, let him cast the first stone at
+her," said the king, softened, as he slowly turned down the path which
+would lead to his carriage, waiting outside the park.
+
+Frederick was lost in thought, and addressed no conversation to the
+equerry, Von Schwerin, who sat opposite to him. But as they drove
+through the beautiful street Unten den Linden, at Berlin, Frederick
+glanced at the equerry, and found that he had fallen asleep, wearied
+with the long silence and the monotony of the drive. The king spoke
+to Alkmene, loud and earnestly, until Herr von Schwerin, awakened
+and startled, glanced at the king, frightened, and trying to discover
+whether his fearful crime against etiquette would draw upon him the
+royal censure. Frederick, however, appeared not to notice his fright,
+and spoke kindly to him: "Did you not tell me, Schwerin, that Count
+Schmettau would sell his country residence at Charlottenburg?"
+
+"At your service, your majesty, he asked me to purchase it, or find him
+a purchaser."
+
+"How much is it worth?"
+
+"Sire, Count Schmettau demands eight thousand dollars for it. There is
+a beautiful park belonging to it, and the house is worthy the name of a
+castle, so large is it."
+
+"Why do you not buy it, if the count offered it to you?"
+
+The equerry assumed a sad mien, and answered, sighing: "Sire, I should
+be the happiest of men if I could buy that charming residence, and it
+would be a real blessing to me if I could enjoy in summer at times the
+fresh air. My finances unfortunately, do not allow such expenses, as I
+am not rich, and have a large family."
+
+"Then you are right not to spend money unnecessarily," said the king,
+quietly. "You can have as much fresh air at Potsdam as can ever enter
+your mouth, and it costs neither you nor I any thing. Say to
+Count Schmettau that you have a purchaser for his residence at
+Charlottenburg."
+
+"Oh, you are really too kind," cried the equerry, in an excitement of
+joy; "I do not know--"
+
+Here the carriage entered the palace court, and the concluding words
+were inaudible. Herr von Schwerin alighted quickly to assist the
+king. "Say to Schmettau to present himself to my treasurer and cabinet
+councillor, Menkon, tomorrow morning at twelve o'clock, at Sans-Souci."
+
+The king nodded kindly to the equerry, and passed into the Swiss saloon,
+and farther on into the private rooms which he was accustomed to occupy
+whenever he remained at the capital. The Swiss saloon was fast filling,
+not alone with the generals and staff-officers of the Berlin garrison,
+but with the officers of the regiments from the provinces, who presented
+themselves at the palace according to the order of the king. The most
+of them were old and worn out, body and mind. They all looked morose and
+sorrowful. The great news of the approaching war with Austria had spread
+through the military. The old laurel-crowned generals of the Seven
+Years' War were unwilling to go forth to earn new laurels, for which
+they had lost all ambition. Not one dared betray his secret thoughts
+to another, or utter a word of disapproval. The king's spies were
+everywhere, and none could trust himself to converse with his neighbor,
+as he might prove to be one of them. There reigned an anxious,
+oppressive silence; the generals and staff-officers exchanged the
+ordinary greetings. All eyes were turned toward the door through which
+the king would enter, bowed down, like his generals, with the cares
+of life, and the burden of old age. The king slowly entered. He was,
+indeed, an old man, like those he came amongst, and now saluted. An
+expression of imperishable youth lighted up his pale, sunken face, and
+his eyes flashed with as much daring and fire as thirty-eight years
+before, when he had assembled his young officers around him in this very
+hall, to announce to them that he would march against Austria. How many
+wars, how many battles, how many illusions, victories, and defeats
+had the king experienced in these thirty-eight years! How little the
+youthful, fiery king of that day resembled the weak old man of to-day;
+how little in common the young King Frederick had with "Alten Fritz."
+And now in this feeble body dwelt the same courageous spirit. In the
+course of these years King Frederick II had become Frederick the Great!
+And great he was to-day, this little old man--great in his intentions
+and achievements, never heeding his own debility and need of repose. All
+his thoughts and endeavors concentrated on the welfare of his people and
+his country--on the greatness and glory of Germany. Those eyes which now
+glanced over the circle of generals were still flashing as those of the
+hero-king whose look had disarmed the lurking assassin, and confounded
+the distinguished savant in the midst of his eloquence, so that he
+stammered and was silent. He was still Frederick the Great, who, leaning
+upon his staff, was surrounded by his generals, whom he called to fight
+for their fatherland, for Germany!
+
+"Gentlemen," said the king, "I have called you together to announce
+to you that we must go forth to new wars, and, God willing, to new
+victories. The Emperor of Austria forces me to it, for, against all
+laws and customs, and against all rights of kingdoms, he thinks to bring
+German territory into the possession of the house of Hapsburg. Charles
+Theodore, prince-elector, having no children, has concluded a treaty
+with the Emperor Joseph, that at his death the electorate of Bavaria
+will fall to Austria. In consequence thereof an Austrian army has
+marched into Bavaria, and garrisoned the frontier.--The prince-elector,
+Duke Charles Theodore, was not authorized to proceed thus, for, though
+he had no children to succeed him, he had a lawful successor in his
+brother's son, Duke Charles von Zweibrucken. Electoral Saxony and
+Mecklenburg have well-founded pretensions, even if Zweibrucken were
+not existing. All these princes have addressed themselves to me, and
+requested me to represent them to the emperor and to the imperial
+government--to protect them in their injured rights. I have first
+tried kindness and persuasion to bring back Austria from her desire
+of aggrandizement, but in Vienna they have repulsed every means of
+peaceable arbitration. I, as one of the rulers of the empire (and as
+I have reaffirmed the Westphalian treaty through the Hubertsburger
+treaty), feel bound to preserve the privileges, the rights, the liberty
+of the German states. I have therefore well reflected, and decided to
+draw the sword--that what the diplomats have failed to arrange with the
+pen should be settled with the sword. These are my reasons, gentlemen,
+which make it my duty to assemble an army; therefore I have called you
+together." His fiery eyes flashed around the circle, peeling into the
+thin, withered faces of his generals, and encountering everywhere a
+grave, earnest mien.
+
+The king repressed with an effort a sigh; then continued, with a mild
+voice: "My feeble old age does not allow me to travel as in my fiery
+youth. I shall use a post-carriage, and you, gentlemen, have the liberty
+to do the same. On the day of battle you will find me mounted; you
+will follow my example. Until then, farewell!" [Footnote: The king's
+words.--See "Prussia, Frederick the Great," vol. iii.]
+
+"Long live the king!" cried General von Krokow; and all the generals who
+formerly joined in this cry of the Prussian warrior, now repeated it
+in weak, trembling tones. Frederick smiled a recognition, bowing on all
+sides, then turned slowly away, leaning upon his staff.
+
+When once more alone, the youthful expression faded from his eyes, and
+the gloomy shadows of old age settled down upon his thoughtful brow.
+"They have all grown old and morose," said he, mildly, "they will not
+show any more heroism; the fire of ambition is quenched in their souls!
+A warm stove must warm their old limbs. Oh! it is a pitiful thing
+to grow old; and still they call themselves the images of God! Poor
+boasters, who, with a breath of the Almighty, are overturned and bent as
+a blade of grass in the sand!"
+
+"Your majesty, may I come in?" asked a gentle, happy child's voice.
+
+The king turned hastily toward the door, so softly opened, and there
+stood a charming little boy, in the uniform of a flag-bearer, with the
+cap upon his head, and a neat little sword by his side. "Yes, you may
+enter," nodded the king kindly to him. "You know I sent for you, my
+little flag-bearer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. FREDERICK WILLIAM.
+
+
+The little flag-bearer skipped into the room with graceful vivacity,
+and sprang, with a merry bound, up to the king, took his hand without
+ceremony, and pressed it to his lips. Then, raising up his head and
+shaking back his light-brown curls from his rosy cheeks, his bright-blue
+eyes sparkling, he looked him full in the face. "Your majesty, you say
+that you sent for me; but I must tell you that if you had not sent for
+me I would have come here alone, and begged so long at the door, that
+you would have let me come in!"
+
+"And what if I would not have let you come in at all?" said the king,
+smiling.
+
+The little flag-bearer reflected a moment, then answered with a
+confident air: "Your majesty, I would have forced open the door, thrown
+myself at your feet, and kissed your hand, saying, 'My king, my dear
+great-uncle, I must come in to thank you a thousand times for the
+flag-bearer's commission you have sent me, and for the beautiful
+uniform.' Then I would see if your majesty had the courage to send me
+away."
+
+"Let me see, my prince--do you think my courage could fail me upon any
+occasion?"
+
+"Yes, in bad things," zealously cried the prince, "and it would be bad
+if you would not let me thank you. I am so happy with the commission and
+the beautiful uniform which you so graciously sent to me! Tell me, your
+majesty, do I not look beautifully?" The boy straightened his elegant,
+slender form, and saluted the king, putting the two fingers of his right
+hand upon his cap.
+
+"Yes, yes," said Frederick, "you look very nicely, my prince; but it is
+not enough that you look well--you must behave well. From a flag-bearer
+in my army I expect very different things than from any common child.
+Who wears my uniform must prove himself worthy of the honor."
+
+"Your majesty," cried the prince, "I assure you, upon my word of honor,
+that I have no bad marks when I wear the uniform. Your majesty can ask
+my tutor. He came with me, and waits in the anteroom to speak with you.
+He will tell you that I have a good report."
+
+"Very well, we will call him presently," said Frederick, smiling.
+"Now we will chat a little together. Tell me whether you are very
+industrious, and if you are learning anything of consequence?"
+
+"Sire, I must learn, even if I had no inclination to; Herr Behnisch
+leaves me no peace. I have scarcely time to play. I am always learning
+to read, to write, to cipher, and to work."
+
+"How about the geography and universal history?"
+
+"Oh, your majesty, I wish there were no geography and history in the
+world, and then I should not have to study so cruelly hard, and I could
+play more. My mother sent me last week a new battledore and shuttlecock,
+but I can never learn to play with it. I no sooner begin, than Herr
+Behnisch calls me to study. To-day I was very cunning--oh, I was so sly!
+I put it in the great-pocket of my tutor's coat, and he brought it here
+without knowing it."
+
+"That was very naughty," said the king, a little severely. The prince
+colored, and, a little frightened, said: "Sire, I could not bring it
+any other way. I beg pardon, the uniform is so tight, and then--then,
+I thought it would be dishonoring it to put a shuttlecock in the
+cartridge-box."
+
+"That was a good thought, prince, and for that I will forgive you the
+trick upon your tutor. But what will you do with the ball here? Why did
+you bring it?"
+
+"Oh, I wished to show it to your majesty, it is so beautiful, and then
+beg you to let me play a little."
+
+"We will see, Fritz," said the king, much pleased. "If you deserve it,
+that shall be your reward. Tell me the truth, is your tutor satisfied
+with you?"
+
+"Sire, Herr Behnisch is never really pleased, but he has not scolded me
+much lately, so I must have been pretty good. One day he wrote 'Bien'
+under my French exercise. Oh, I was so happy that I spent six groschen
+of the thaler my father gave me a little while since, and bought two
+pots of gilly-flowers, one for myself and one for my little brother
+Henry, that he should have a souvenir of my 'Bien!'"
+
+"That was right," said the king, nodding approvingly. "When you are
+good, you must always let your friends and relations take part in it;
+keep the bad only for yourself."
+
+"I will remember that, and I thank you for the kind instruction."
+
+"The studies seem to go very well, but how is it with the behavior? They
+tell me that the prince is not always polite to his visitors; that he is
+sometimes very rude, even to the officers who pay their respects to him
+on his father's account, and on my account, not on his own, for what
+do they care for such a little snip as he? They go to honor Prince
+Frederick William of Prussia, though he is only a little flag-bearer.
+They tell me that you do not appreciate the honor, but that at Easter
+you behaved very badly."
+
+"Sire, it is true; I cannot deny it--I did behave badly," sighed the
+little prince.
+
+"What was the matter?" asked the king. "It was not from fear, I hope? I
+should be very angry at that. Tell me yourself, and tell me the truth."
+
+"Your majesty can depend upon the whole truth. My tutor says that lying
+is despicable, and that a prince who will one day be a king should be
+too proud to tell a lie! I will tell you all about it. The officers came
+to see me at Easter, just as I had put the Easter eggs in the garden,
+for my little brother and some other boys whom I had invited to hunt for
+them. I had spent my last six groschen for the eggs, and I anticipated
+so much pleasure with the hide-and-seek for them. We had just begun,
+when the officers came."
+
+"That was really unfortunate," said the king, sympathizingly.
+
+"Yes, sire, very disagreeable, and I could not possibly feel kindly.
+While the officers were talking, I was always wishing they would go. But
+they stayed and stayed--and when Major von Werder began to make a long
+speech to me, and I thought there was no end to it, I became impatient
+and furious--and--"
+
+"Why do you hesitate?" asked the king, looking tenderly at the frank,
+glowing face of the boy. "What happened?"
+
+"Something dreadful, sire! I could not keep in any longer. The major
+kept on talking, and looked at me so sharply, I could not help making
+an abominable face. It is unfortunately true--I ran my tongue out at
+him--only just a little bit--and I drew it back in an instant; but
+it was done, and a dreadful scene followed. The major did not say any
+thing, my tutor was red as fire, and I was thunderstruck!"
+
+"That was excessively rude, my little flag-bearer," cried the king.
+
+The young prince was so ashamed, and was looking down so penitently,
+that he did not see the smile on Frederick's face, and the affectionate
+look with which he regarded the youthful sinner.
+
+"Do you know that you deserve to be imprisoned fourteen days, and live
+on bread and water, for insubordination?"
+
+"I know it now, sire. I beg pardon most humbly," said the prince,
+with quivering voice and with tears in his eyes. "I have been punished
+enough, without that. Herr Behnisch would not let me go to the garden
+again, and I have never seen the eggs which I spent my last groschen
+for, nor the boys whom I had invited. I was made to stay in my room all
+Easter week, learn twenty Latin words every day, and write three pages
+of German words in good handwriting. It was a hard punishment, but I
+knew that I deserved it, and did not complain. I only thought that I
+would do better in future."
+
+"If you thought so, and you have already been punished, we will say
+no more about it," said the king. "But tell me, how did you get on at
+Whitsuntide, when the officers paid you their respects again?"
+
+"Your majesty," answered the prince, "it was a great deal better; I
+behaved tolerably well, except a very little rudeness, which was not so
+bad after all. [Footnote: The little prince's own words.--See "Diary of
+Prince Frederick William," p. 18.] Herr Behnisch did not punish me;
+he only said, another time, that I should do better, and not be so
+taciturn, but greet the gentlemen in a more friendly manner. I must tell
+you, sire, that when Herr Behnisch does not scold, it is a sure sign
+that I have behaved pretty well; and this time he did not."
+
+"Fritz, I believe you," said the king, "and you shall have the reward
+that you asked for--stay here and play a little while. Go, now, and call
+your tutor; I have a few words to say to him."
+
+The little prince sprang toward the door, but suddenly stopped,
+embarrassed.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the king. "Why do you not call your tutor?"
+
+"Sire, I am very much troubled. Herr Behnisch will be very angry when
+you tell him about the shuttlecock. I beg you not to betray me!"
+
+"Yes, but if you will play before me, you must get the plaything which
+you say is in his pocket."
+
+"Sire, then I had rather not play," cried the prince.
+
+"On the contrary," said the king, "your punishment shall be, to take the
+plaything as cleverly out of the pocket as you put it in. If you do it
+well, then I will say nothing about it; but, if your tutor discovers
+you, then you must submit to the storm. It lies in your own hands.
+Whilst I am conversing with the tutor, try your luck. Now call him in."
+
+The prince obeyed thoughtfully, and the tutor entered. He stood near
+the door, and made the three prescribed bows; then he waited with a
+submissive air for further commands.
+
+The king was sitting opposite the door, his hands folded upon his staff
+and his chin resting upon his hands, looking the tutor full in the face.
+Herr Behnisch bore it calmly; not a feature moved in his angular,
+wooden face. Near the tutor stood the little prince, his graceful, rosy,
+childlike face expressing eager expectation.
+
+"Approach!" said the king.
+
+Herr Behnisch stepped forward a little, and remained standing. The
+prince glided noiselessly after him, keeping his eyes fixed on the tails
+of the flesh-colored satin coat with which the tutor had adorned himself
+for this extraordinary occasion. The prince smiled as he saw the pocket
+open and the feathers of the shuttlecock peeping out. He stretched out
+his little hand and crooked his fingers to seize it.
+
+"Come nearer! Herr Behnisch," said Frederick, who had observed the
+movement of the little prince, and who was amused at the thought of
+keeping him in suspense a little longer.
+
+Herr Behnisch moved forward, and the prince, frightened, remained
+standing with outstretched hand. He menaced the king with a glance of
+his bright blue eyes. Frederick caught the look, smiled, and turned to
+the tutor.
+
+"I believe it is three years since you commenced teaching the little
+prince?" said the king.
+
+"At your service, your majesty, since 1775."
+
+"A tolerably long time," said the king--"long enough to make a savant
+of a child of Nature. You have been faithful, and I am satisfied. The
+copybooks which you sent me according to my orders are satisfactory. I
+wished to acquaint you myself of my satisfaction, therefore I sent for
+you."
+
+"Your majesty is very condescending," said the tutor, and his sharp,
+angular face brightened a little. "I am very happy in the gracious
+satisfaction of your royal highness. I wished also to make known to you
+personally my wishes in regard to the petition for the little prince's
+pocket-money; he should learn the use of money."
+
+"Very well," said the king, nodding to the prince, who stood behind the
+tutor, holding up triumphantly the shuttle cock.
+
+Yet, the most difficult feat remained to be accomplished. The battledoor
+was in the very depths of the pocket; only the point of the handle was
+visible.
+
+"Your majesty," cried Herr Behnisch, who had taken the approving
+exclamation of "very well" to himself--"your majesty, I am very happy
+that you have the grace to approve of my petition for pocket-money."
+
+"Yes, I think it well," said the king, "that the prince should learn
+not to throw money out of the window. I will send you, monthly, for the
+prince, two Fredericks d'or, and, before you hand it over to him, change
+it into small pieces, that there may be a great pile of it." [Footnote:
+The king's own words--See "Confidential Letters."]
+
+Just at that moment the prince tried to seize the battle door. Herr
+Behnisch felt the movement, and was on the point of turning around, when
+Frederick stopped him, by saying, "I believe it is time to commence a
+regular course of instruction for the prince. At eight years of age
+the education of an heir to the throne must progress rapidly, and be
+regulated by fixed principles. I will write out my instructions, that
+you may always have them before you."
+
+"It will be my most earnest endeavor to follow your majesty's commands
+to the letter," answered the tutor, who saw not the little prince, with
+beaming face, behind him, swinging the battledoor high in the air.
+
+"I am about to enter upon a new war; no one knows if he will ever return
+from a campaign. I dare not spare my life, when the honor and fame of
+my house are at stake. Our life and death, however, are in God's hands.
+Before we risk our lives, we should put every thing in order, and leave
+nothing undone which it is our duty to do. I will write my instructions
+to-day, and send them to you. Promise me, upon your word of honor as
+a man, that you will act upon them, as long as you are tutor to Prince
+Frederick William, even if I should not return from the campaign."
+
+"I promise it to your majesty," answered the tutor. "I will, in all
+things, according to the best of my ability, follow your majesty's
+instructions."
+
+"I believe you; I take you to be an honorable man," said the king. "You
+will always be mindful of the great responsibility which rests upon you,
+as you have a prince to educate who will one day govern a kingdom, and
+upon whom the weal and woe of many millions are dependent. And when
+those millions of men one day bless the king whom you have educated,
+a part of the blessing will fall upon you; but when they curse him, so
+falls the curse likewise upon your guilty head, and you will feel the
+weight of it, though you may be in your grave! Be mindful of this,
+and act accordingly. Now you may depart. I will write the instructions
+immediately, so that you may receive them to-day."
+
+Herr Behnisch bowed, backing out toward the door.
+
+"One thing more," cried the king, motioning with his Staff to the tutor.
+"In order that you may ever remember our interview, I will present you
+with a souvenir."
+
+He opened the drawer of his private writing-table, and took out a gold
+snuff-box, with his initials set in brilliants upon the cover; handing
+it to Herr Behnisch, he motioned him to retire, and thus spare him the
+expression of his gratitude.
+
+"Your majesty," stammered Herr Behnisch, with tears in his eyes, "I--"
+
+"You are an honest man, and so long as you remain so, you can count upon
+me. Adieu!--Now," said the king, as the door closed, "have you recovered
+the plaything?"
+
+"Here it is, your majesty," shouted the prince, as he held up
+triumphantly the battledoor and shuttlecock high in the air.
+
+"You deserve your reward, and you shall have it. You can stay with me
+and play with it here. Take care and not make too much noise, as I wish
+to write."
+
+The king now seated himself, to draw up the instructions for Herr
+Behnisch. While he was thus occupied, the little prince tossed his
+shuttlecock, springing lightly after it on tiptoe to catch it; sometimes
+he missed it, and then he cast an imploring look at the king, as it fell
+upon the furniture; but he observed it not. He was absorbed in writing
+the instructions for the education of the future king, Frederick William
+III. The physical education of the prince was his first care. He dwelt
+upon the necessity of the frequent practice of dancing, fencing, and
+riding, to give suppleness, grace, and a good carriage--through severe
+training, to make him capable of enduring all hardships. The different
+branches of study next occupied the king. "It is not sufficient," he
+wrote, "that the prince should learn the dates of history, to repeat
+them like a parrot; but he must understand how to compare the events of
+ancient times with the modern, and discover the causes which produced
+revolutions, and show that, generally, in the world, virtue is rewarded
+and vice punished. Later, he can learn a short course of logic, free
+from all pedantry; then study the orations of Cicero and Demosthenes,
+and read the tragedies of Racine. When older, he should have some
+knowledge of the opinions of philosophers, and the different religious
+sects, without inspiring him with dislike for any one sect. Make it
+clear to him that we all worship God--only in different ways. It is
+not necessary that he should have too much respect for the priests who
+instruct him."
+
+The shuttlecock fell, at this instant, upon the paper upon which the
+king was writing. Frederick was too much occupied to look up, but he
+threw it upon the floor, continuing to write:
+
+"The great object will be to awaken a love of learning in the prince,
+to prevent any approach to pedantry, and not to make the course of
+instruction too severe at the commencement. We now come to the chief
+division of education, that which concerns the morals. Neither you nor
+all the power in the world would be sufficient to alter the character of
+a child. Education can do nothing further than moderate the violence of
+the passions. Treat my nephew as the son of a citizen, who has to make
+his own fortune. Say to him that, when he commits follies, and learns
+nothing, the whole world will despise him. Let him assume no mannerisms,
+but bring him up simply. The--"
+
+It was the second time the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. The king
+looked up censuringly at the prince, who stood speechless with fright
+and anxiety. The king again threw it upon the floor, and wrote on:
+
+"The prince must be polite toward every one; and if he is rude, he must
+immediately make an apology. Teach him that all men are equal--that high
+birth is a myth when not accompanied with merit. Let the prince speak
+with every one, that he may gain confidence. It is of no consequence if
+he talks nonsense; every one knows that he is a child. Take care in his
+education, above all things, that he is self-reliant, and not led by
+others; his follies, as well as his good qualities, should belong to
+himself. It is of very great importance to inspire him with a love for
+military life; and for this reason say to him, and let him hear others
+say it, that every man who is not a soldier is a miserable fellow,
+whether noble or not. He must see the soldiers exercise as often as
+possible; and it would be well to send for five or six cadets, and have
+them drill before him. Every thing depends upon cultivating a taste for
+these things. Inspire him with a love of our country, above all things.
+Let no one speak to him who is not truly patriotic."
+
+Again the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. The little prince uttered
+a cry of horror, staring at the plaything. This time the king did not
+receive the interruption so calmly. He looked at the speechless boy as
+if very angry; then took it and put it in his pocket. Casting another
+angry glance at the prince, he continued:
+
+"The officers who dine with the prince shall tease and annoy him, that
+he may become confident."
+
+"Your majesty," said the prince, timidly and imploringly, "I beg pardon
+a thousand times for being so awkward. I am sorry, and I will be more
+careful in the future."
+
+The king paid no attention to him, but continued to write: "When you
+understand him better, try to learn his chief passion to uproot it,
+but to moderate it." [Footnote: This entire instruction is an exact
+translation of the original, which Frederick drew up in French, and
+which is included in his "Complete Works."]
+
+"My dear lord and king," began the prince again, "I beg you will have
+the goodness to give me my shuttlecock."
+
+The king was silent, and with apparent indifference commenced reading
+over what he had written.
+
+Prince Frederick William waited a long time, but, on receiving no
+answer, and understanding that his pleading was in vain, his face grew
+red with anger, and his eyes flashed. With an irritated, determined
+manner, he stepped close up to the king, his hands resting upon his
+hips. "Your majesty," cried he, with a menacing tone, "will you give me
+my ball or not?"
+
+The king now looked up at the prince, who regarded him in an insolent,
+questioning manner. A smile, mild as the evening sunset, spread over
+the king's face; he laid his hand lovingly upon the curly head of the
+prince, saying: "They will never take away Silesia from you. Here is
+your shuttlecock." He drew it from his pocket, and gave it to the little
+prince, who seized his hand and pressed it to his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE DRIVE TO BERLIN.
+
+
+Wilhelmine Enke passed the remainder of the day, after her meeting with
+the king, in anguish and tears. She recalled all that he had said to
+her, every word of which pierced her to the heart. Her little daughter
+of seven years tried in vain to win a smile from her mamma with her
+gentle caresses. In vain she begged her to sing to her and smile as
+she was wont to do. The mother, usually so kind and affectionate, would
+today free herself from her child, and sent her away with quivering lip,
+and tears in her eyes, to listen to her nurse's stories.
+
+Once alone, Wilhelmine paced her room with rapid strides and folded
+arms, giving vent to her repressed anguish. She reviewed her life, with
+all its changing scenes. It was a sad, searching retrospection, but
+in it she found consolation and excuse for herself. She thought of her
+childhood; she saw the gloomy dwelling where she had lived with her
+parents, brothers, and sisters. She recalled the need and the want of
+those years--the sickly, complaining, but busy mother; the foolish,
+wicked father, who never ceased his constant exercise of the bugle,
+except to take repeated draughts of brandy, or scold the children. Then
+she saw in this joyless dwelling, in which she crouched with her little
+sisters, a young girl enter, and greet them smilingly. She wore a robe
+glittering with gold, with transparent wings upon her shoulders. This
+young girl was Wilhelmine's older sister, Sophie, who had just returned
+from the Italian opera, where she was employed. She still had on her
+fairy costume in which she had danced in the opera of "Armida," and had
+come, with a joyous face, to take leave of her parents, and tell them
+that a rich Russian count loved her, and wanted to marry her; that in
+the intervening time he had taken a beautiful apartment for her, where
+she would remove that very evening. She must bid them farewell, for her
+future husband was waiting for her in the carriage at the door.
+
+Sophie laughed at her grumbling father, shook hands with her weeping
+mother, and bent to kiss the children. Wilhelmine, in unspeakable
+anguish, sprang after her, holding her fast, with both hands clinching
+the crackling wings. She implored her sister to take her with her, while
+the tears ran in streams down her cheeks. "You know that I love you,"
+she cried, "and my only pleasure is to see you every day. Take me
+with you, and I will serve and obey you, and be your waiting-maid."
+Wilhelmine held the wings firmly with a convulsive grasp, and continued
+to weep and implore, until Sophie at last laughingly yielded.
+
+"Well, come, if you will be my waiting-maid; no one combs hair as well
+as you, and your simple style of arranging it suits me better than any
+other. Come, come, it shall be arranged, you shall be my waiting-maid."
+
+The pictures of memory changed, and Wilhelmine saw herself in the midst
+of splendor, as the poor little maid, unnoticed by her brilliant sister,
+the beloved of the Russian Count Matuschko. Joy and pleasure reigned in
+the beautifully gilded apartment where Sophie lived. She was the queen
+of the feasts and the balls. Many rich and fine gentlemen came there,
+and the beautiful Sophie, the dancer, the affianced of Count Matuschko,
+received their homage. No one observed the sad little waiting-maid, in
+her dark stuff dress, with her face bound up in black silk, as if she
+had the toothache. She wore the cast-off morning dresses of her sister,
+and, at her command, bound her face with the black silk, so that the
+admirers of her sister should not see, by a fugitive glance, or chance
+meeting, the budding beauty of the little maid.
+
+Wilhelmine dared not enter the saloon when visitors were there; only
+when Sophie was alone, or her artistic hand was needed to arrange her
+sister's beautiful hair, was she permitted to stay with the future
+countess. Every rough touch was resented with harsh words, blows, and
+ill-treatment. The smiling fairy of the drawing-room, was the harsh,
+grim mistress for her sister, whose every mistake was punished with
+unrelenting severity. In fact, she was made a very slave; and now,
+after long years, the remembrance of it even cast a gloomy shadow over
+Wilhelmine's face, and her eyes flashed fire.
+
+Another picture now rose up before her soul, which caused her face to
+brighten, as a beautiful beaming image presented itself, the image of
+her first and only love! She lived over again the day when it rose up
+like a sun before her wondering, admiring gaze, and yet it was a stormy
+day for her. Sophie was very angry with her, because in crimping her
+hair she had burnt her cheek, which turned the fairy into a fury. She
+threw the weak child upon the floor, and beat and stamped upon her.
+
+Suddenly a loud, angry voice commanded her to cease, and a strong, manly
+arm raised the trembling, weeping girl, and with threatening tone bade
+Sophie be quiet. Prince Frederick William of Prussia took compassion on
+the poor child. The sister had not remarked him in her paroxysm of
+rage; had never heard him enter. He had been a witness to Wilhelmine's
+ill-treatment. He now defended her, blaming her sister for her cruelty
+to her, and declared his intention to be her future protector. How
+handsome he looked; how noble in his anger; how his eyes flashed as he
+gazed upon her, who knelt at his feet, and kissed them, looking up to
+him as her rescuer!
+
+"Wilhelmine, come with me; I do not wish you to remain here," said he;
+"your sister will never forgive you that I have taken your part. Come,
+I will take you to your parents, and provide for you. You shall be as
+beautiful and accomplished a lady as your sister, but, Heaven grant, a
+more generous and noble-hearted one! Come!"
+
+These words, spoken with a gentle, winning voice, had never died away
+in her heart. Twelve years had passed since then, and they still rang
+in her ear, in the tumult of the world as well as in the quiet of her
+lonely room. They had comforted her when the shame of her existence
+oppressed her; rejoiced her when, with the delight of youth and
+happiness, she had given herself up to pleasure. She had followed him
+quietly, devotedly, as a little dog follows his master. He had kept his
+word; he had had her instructed during three years, and then sent her to
+Paris, in order to give her the last polish, the tournure of the world,
+however much it had cost him to separate from her, or might embarrass
+him, with his scanty means, to afford the increase of expense. A year
+elapsed and Wilhelmine returned a pleasing lady, familiar with the tone
+of the great world, and at home in its manners and customs.
+
+The prince had kept his word--that which he had promised her as he took
+her from her sister's house, to make her a fine, accomplished lady. And
+when he repeated to her now "Come," could she refuse him--him to whom
+she owed every thing, whom she loved as her benefactor, her teacher, her
+friend, and lover? She followed him, and concealed herself for him in
+the modest little dwelling at Potsdam. For him she lived in solitude,
+anxiously avoiding to show herself publicly, that the king should never
+know of her existence, and in his just anger sever the unlawful tie
+which bound her to the Prince of Prussia. [Footnote: "Memoirs of the
+Countess Lichtenau," p. 80.] Wilhelmine recalled the past seven years
+of her life, her two children, whom she had borne to the prince, and
+the joy that filled his heart as he became a father, although his lawful
+wife had also borne him children. She looked around her small, quiet
+dwelling, arranged in a modest manner, not as the favorite of the Prince
+of Prussia, but as an unpretending citizen's wife; she thought how oft
+with privations, with want even, she had had to combat; how oft the
+ornaments which the prince had sent her in the rare days of abundance
+had been taken to the pawnbrokers to provide the necessary wants of
+herself and children. Her eyes flashed with pride and joy at the thought
+which she dared to breathe to herself, that not for gold or riches,
+power or position, had she sold her love, her honor, and her good name.
+
+"It was from pure affinity, from gratitude and affection, that I
+followed the husband of my heart, although he was a prince," she said.
+
+Still the shame of her existence weighed upon her. The king had
+commanded her to hide her head so securely that no one might know her
+shame, or the levity of the prince.
+
+"Go! and let me never see you again!"
+
+Did not this mean that the king would remove her so far that there
+would not be a possible chance to appear again before him? Was there not
+hidden in these words a menace, a warning? Would not the king revenge
+on her the sad experiences of his youth? Perhaps he would punish her
+for what Doris Ritter had suffered! Doris Ritter! She, too, had loved a
+crown prince--she, too, had dared to raise her eyes to the future King
+of Prussia, for which she was cruelly punished, though chaste and pure,
+and hurled down to the abyss of shame for the crime of loving an heir to
+the throne. Beaten, insulted, and whipped through the streets, and then
+sent to the house of correction at Spandau! Oh, poor, unhappy Doris
+Ritter! Will the king atone to you--will he revenge the friend of his
+youth on the mistress of his successor? The old King Frederick, weary
+of life, thinks differently from the young crown prince. He can be as
+severe as his father, cruel and inexorable as he.
+
+"Doris Ritter! Thy fate haunts me. On the morrow I also may be whipped
+through the streets, scorned, reviled by the rabble, and then sent to
+Spandau as a criminal. Did not the king threaten me with the house of
+correction, with the spinning-wheel, which he would have ready for me?"
+
+At the thought of it a terrible anguish, a nameless despair, seized
+her. She felt that the spinning-wheel hung over her like the sword of
+Damocles, ready at the least occasion to fall upon her, and bind her to
+it. She felt that she could not endure such suspense and torture; she
+must escape; she must rescue herself from the king's anger.
+
+"But whither, whither! I must fly from here, from his immediate
+proximity, where a motion of his finger is sufficient to seize me, to
+cause me to disappear before the prince could have any knowledge of it,
+before he could know of the danger which threatened me. I must away from
+Potsdam!"
+
+The prince had arranged a little apartment in Berlin for the winter
+months, which she exchanged for Potsdam in the spring. This seemed to
+offer her more security for the moment, for she could fly at the least
+sign of danger, could even hide herself from the prince, if it were
+necessary to save him and herself. Away to Berlin, then! That was the
+only thought she was able to seize upon. Away with her children, before
+misfortune could reach them!
+
+She sprang to the door, tore it open, rushing to the nurse, upon
+whose knees the baby slept, near whom her little daughter knelt. With
+trembling hands she took her boy and pressed him to her heart. "Louisa,
+we must leave here immediately; it is urgent necessity!" said she, with
+quivering lip. "Do not say a word about it to any one, but hasten; order
+quickly a wagon, bargain for the places, and say we must set off at
+once. The wagon must not be driven to the door, but we will meet it at
+the Berlin Gate. We will go on foot there, and get in. Quick, Louisa,
+not a word--it must be!"
+
+The servant did not dare to oppose her mistress, or contradict the
+orders, but hastened to obey them.
+
+"It is all the old king's fault," said Louisa to herself, as she hurried
+through the street. "Yes, the king has ordered mistress to Berlin. He
+looked so furious, the old bear! His eyes flashed so terribly, one might
+well fear him, and I thanked Heaven when mamselle sent me home from the
+park. It is coming to a bad end at last; I should have done better not
+to have taken the place at all. Oh, if we were only away from here; if I
+only could find a wagon to take us!"
+
+Thanks to the nurse's fears and endeavors, the wagon was soon found, and
+scarcely an hour had passed before Wilhelmine Enke, her two children and
+nurse, were hidden under a plain linen-covered wagon, and on their way
+to Berlin.
+
+The street was unusually animated, as the division of troops which the
+king had reviewed in Berlin, were marching out of the city to report
+themselves on the Bavarian frontier. Their first night's quarters were
+to be in Potsdam, and the last great parade was to take place there on
+the following morning, before the king commenced his journey. The driver
+had often to halt at the side of the street to let the troops pass,
+which with a full band of music, came marching on. At the head of one
+of the regiments, mounted upon a fiery steed, was a general in brilliant
+uniform, his breast covered with orders, which glittered in the sun. He
+was tall and rather corpulent, but appeared to advantage. His carriage
+was proud and imposing, his face was almost too youthful for a general,
+and his body too corpulent for the expressive and delicate features. As
+he passed by the poor, unpretending carriage, where Wilhelmine sat with
+her children, she heard distinctly his beautiful, sonorous voice, and
+merry laugh. "Oh Heaven, it is he!--it is he!" she murmured, drawing
+herself farther back into the wagon with her children. Just then, out of
+an opening in the linen cover, Louisa peeped, whispering, "Mamselle, it
+is the Prince of Prussia!"
+
+"Be quiet--for mercy's sake be quiet, Louisa, that we may not be
+remarked!" said Wilhelmine, gently. "Take the child that he may not
+scream, for if the prince should hear him he will turn back. He knows
+the voice of his little son!"
+
+"Yes, he knows the voice of his little son!" muttered the nurse, as
+she laid the child to her breast. "The little son must stop here on
+the street, in a miserable wagon, while his noble father rides past, so
+splendid and glittering with gold, not knowing that his little boy is so
+near him. Oh, a real trouble and a real heart-sorrow is this!"
+
+"Indeed it is," said Wilhelmine, in her heart, "a real trouble and a
+real heart-sorrow. How all these men would present arms, and salute my
+children, if they had been born to a throne instead of obscurity! How
+they would bow and bend, if I were called Louisa of Hesse-Darmstadt, and
+the lawful wife of the prince! Did they not also bend and bow before
+the first wife, Elizabeth von Braunschweig, [Footnote: The first wife
+of Prince Frederick William of Prussia was the Princess Elizabeth von
+Braunschweig, the niece of Frederick the Great. The crown prince was
+scarcely twenty-one years of age when betrothed to her. After four years
+they were separated, on account of the improper conduct of the princess,
+who was banished to Stettin. There she lived until her death in 1840,
+after seventy-one years of imprisonment. Never during these seventy-one
+years had the Princess 'Lisbeth', as she was called, dared to leave
+Stettin. There she was obliged to amuse herself. Her concerts and
+evening entertainments were celebrated. The second wife of the crown
+prince of Prussia was Louisa of Hesse-Darmstadt, the mother of Frederick
+William III. She died in 1805.] although every one knew of her shameful
+conduct--knew of her intrigues with lackeys and common soldiers? Do
+they not now bow before her, although she is banished to Stettin for her
+infamous conduct, and lives there a prisoner? A fine imprisonment that!
+The whole town is her prison, and when she appears in public every one
+stands upon the street to salute the crown princess of Prussia. But
+when they see me they pass carelessly by, or they look at me with a
+contemptuous laugh, and fancy themselves miracles of virtue, and free
+from sin. My only crime is that my father was not a prince, and that I
+am of low birth. Am I to blame for that--to blame that the man whom I
+love, and who loves me, cannot marry me and make me his lawful wife?"
+
+"Ho! gee, ho!" cried the driver to his horses. "Get up!" The troops had
+passed, the highway was now free, and uninterrupted rolled the heavy,
+creaking wagon into Berlin. Within all was quiet. The two children and
+nurse were asleep. The driver was half asleep, his head hung shaking
+about; only now and then he started to give his horses a crack, which
+the thin, wheezing animals did not heed in the least. Wilhelmine alone
+slept not; in her soul there was no quiet, no peace. She grumbled
+at fate, and at mankind. An unspeakable anxiety seized her for the
+immediate future, and fear of the king's anger. As the sun was setting
+they reached Berlin, and were entering the town, when the guard, in
+royal livery, sprang through the gate, calling, in a loud voice, to the
+wagon, "Halt--halt! Turn out of the way!" Then was heard the call of
+the sentinel, and the roll of the drums. An equipage, drawn by six black
+steeds, drove past. A pale, young wife, splendidly attired, leaned back
+in the carriage, and the little flag-bearer, Prince Frederick William,
+was by her side; on the seat opposite sat the second son, Prince Louis,
+and the lord steward. In this beautiful equipage drove the Princess of
+Prussia; at her side, in a miserable linen-covered wagon, crouching far
+in the corner, sat Wilhelmine Enke, the rival of the princess; near her,
+her two children, whose existence condemned her, and stamped her
+life with dishonor. Like a dream the brilliant apparition rushed past
+Wilhelmine, and it haunted her through the long streets, to the humble
+home where she sought a temporary refuge. And when finally alone, in
+her own room, where no one could spy into her face, nor understand her
+words, there broke forth from her soul a long-repressed wrong. She stood
+erect; a proud, insolent smile played around her mouth. "I am his wife,
+too; I alone am his beloved wife," said she, with a loud, triumphant
+voice, "and my children are his only truly-beloved children, for they
+are those of his love. How proudly she drove past me! How beautiful is
+her pale face, and how interesting her sad smile! She in sunlight, and
+I in shade! She knows that I am her rival, but she is not mine. No, the
+Princess of Prussia cannot rival Wilhelmine Enke. I have no fear of her.
+But the king I have to fear," cried she suddenly, shrinking with terror.
+In the meeting with the princess she had forgotten him, her anguish,
+her anxiety for the future. All were forgotten for the moment--to be
+recalled with renewed terror.
+
+"Thank Heaven," she said, "I have escaped. For the moment I am safe!
+What will the prince do, when he finds that we have fled from Potsdam?
+Will he divine where we have gone? Will he come to seek me? If he still
+loves me--if I am really the happy rival of his wife and every other
+court lady--yes, then he will come. Then he will know where to find his
+Wilhelmine. But if it is true, what malicious people have repeated to
+me, with feigned sympathy, that the prince loves another--that he has
+withdrawn his love from me, is indifferent and cold--then he will not
+seek me; then I shall remain here alone!--alone, with my children, this
+long, fearful night! What, then, if I am alone? No, oh, no! I will
+not believe that I am forsaken. These are wicked thoughts which haunt
+me--only the agitation of this dreadful day, which imagination has
+overwrought. Rise up and be strong! Go to thy children," said she, "and
+read in their eyes that he can never leave thee!"
+
+Forcing herself to composure, she sought her children; found Louisa
+humming and singing her little boy to sleep, and her daughter nodding,
+on a low stool at her feet.
+
+"Come, my child, I will put you to sleep," said the mother, lifting her
+in her arms. "Your mother will make your bed softly. When you sleep and
+speak with the angels, intercede for us all."
+
+With tender care she undressed her and bore her gently in her arms to
+her bed, and, kneeling before it, breathed a prayer over her sleeping
+child; then bent over the cradle of her son, blessing and kissing him.
+"Sleep my boy, sleep. I know not that I shall ever see thy beautiful
+eyes open again--whether I shall ever again press thee to my heart. Who
+can tell if they may not come this very night to remove me to prison--to
+punish me for you, my children, my beloved children!--Be calm, be calm!
+I shall remain here until morning, at least," added she.
+
+She turned to the nurse, who, with anxious face and folded hands, stood
+at the farthest corner of the room. "Go, now, Louisa--go, and take
+something to eat. You must be hungry and tired. Buy at the next store
+what you need; but do not stop to talk with any one or repeat my name.
+Then return quickly, and take care of the children. Do not trouble
+yourself about me--I need nothing more."
+
+"But you must eat something, mamselle; you must have some supper!"
+
+Wilhelmine shook her head, refusing, and returned quickly to her own
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE OATH OF FIDELITY.
+
+
+Long after nightfall the nurse heard her mistress rapidly pacing her
+room, and talking aloud to herself. Soon, however, Sleep spread her
+soothing wings over Louisa, and she heard no more the rapid steps
+and loud talking of her mistress, nor the rolling of a carriage which
+stopped before the door, and the quick, vigorous steps of a man mounting
+the stairs. But Wilhelmine heard them. Breathless she stood, listening
+to the approaching footsteps, for she felt that they had to decide her
+future--the weal and woe of her children! Was it he, her beloved, the
+father of her children? or was it the king's bailiff who had followed
+her, and came to seize her?
+
+Nearer they came; the bell was hastily, violently rung. Wilhelmine
+uttered a cry of delight. She recognized the voice, the commanding
+manner, and rushed through the anteroom to open the door. The prince
+encircled her in his arms, pressed her to his beating heart, and,
+lifting her up, bore her into the room.
+
+"Why did you leave Potsdam, Wilhelmine? Tell me quickly, why did you
+do it?" asked the prince, tenderly kissing her, as he sat her upon the
+divan at his side. Overcome with her tears, she could not answer. "What
+mean these tears? Has any one dared to wound your feelings or injure
+you?"
+
+"Yes, Frederick, and he who injures me hazards nothing--for it is the
+king! I met him in the park at Potsdam this morning. He has crushed
+me with his scorn and anger. He has threatened me with a fearful
+punishment--no less than the house of correction at Spandau! He has
+told me that the spinning-wheel is in readiness for me if I excite his
+further contempt."
+
+A cry of fury escaped the prince. Springing up, he paced the room with
+rapid strides. Wilhelmine remained upon the divan, but her tears did not
+prevent her following the prince with a searching glance--to read his
+face, pale with rage. "I must bear it," he cried, beating his forehead.
+"I cannot protect those that I love!"
+
+A ray of joy lighted up Wilhelmine's face as she listened, but
+it disappeared with the tears which flowed afresh. "I am a poor,
+unfortunate child," she sobbed, "whom every one despises, and fears not
+to injure, who has no one to counsel or protect her, and who is lost if
+God does not have compassion upon her."
+
+The prince rushed to her, seizing both hands. "Wilhelmine, do not drive
+me mad with sorrow," he cried, trembling with excitement and anger. "Is
+it my fault that I cannot protect you against him? Have I not defended
+you from all the rest of the world? Have I ever allowed any one to treat
+you with contempt?"
+
+"I have never given occasion for it, dearest. I have studiously avoided
+all men, to escape their contempt and scorn. Shame is hard to bear,
+fearfully hard. I felt it today, as his beautiful eyes flashed upon me
+with contempt, as his haughty language crushed me to the earth. This
+is the yoke, Frederick William, that I and my children must bear to our
+graves!"
+
+"No, Wilhelmine, not as long as we live--only while he lives! Wait, only
+wait; let me rise from want and slavery; let the day come which makes
+me free--which exalts me: my first act will be to lift the yoke from you
+and our children, and woe to those--a thousand times woe to those who
+would hold it fast! Only be patient, Wilhelmine, submit, and bear with
+me the hard and distressing present. Tell me, my child, my loved one,
+why did you leave Potsdam so suddenly?"
+
+"I was afraid, Frederick. A kind of madness seized me at the thought
+of the king's bailiffs carrying me off to Spandau; a nameless anxiety
+confused my mind, and I only realized that I must escape--that I must
+conceal myself. I felt in greater security here than at Potsdam for the
+night."
+
+"And you fled without leaving me any sign or message to tell me
+whither you had gone! Oh, Wilhelmine, what if I had not divined your
+hiding-place, and had awaited at Potsdam in painful anxiety?"
+
+"Then I should have fled from here at daybreak, leaving my children,
+and in some quiet, obscure retreat have concealed myself from every
+eye--even your own."
+
+"Would you have hidden yourself from me?" cried the prince, encircling
+her in his arms, and pressing her to his heart.
+
+"Yes, Frederick, when your heart did not prompt you where to find me,
+then it would have been a proof that you were indifferent to me. When
+I cannot lean upon your love, then there is no longer any protection or
+abiding-place for me in the world, and the grave will be my refuge."
+
+"But you see my heart revealed you to me, and I am here," said the
+prince, smiling.
+
+"Yes, Heaven be praised, you have come to me," she cried, exultingly,
+throwing her arms about his neck, and kissing him passionately. "You are
+here; I no longer dread the old king's anger, and his fearful words fall
+as spent arrows at my feet. You are here, king of my heart; now I have
+only one thing to dread."
+
+"What is that, Wilhelmine?"
+
+She bent close to his ear, and whispered: "I fear that you are untrue
+to me; that there is some ground for truth in those anonymous letters,
+which declare that you would discard me and my children also, for you
+love another--not one other, but many."
+
+"Jealousy, again jealous!" the prince sighed.
+
+"Oh, no," said she, tenderly, "I only repeat what is daily written me."
+
+"Why do you read it?" cried the prince, vehemently. "Why do you quaff
+the poison which wicked, base men offer you? Why do you not throw such
+letters into the fire, as I do when they slander you to me?"
+
+"Because you know, Frederick," she answered, proudly and earnestly--"you
+must know that that which they write against me is slander and
+falsehood. My life lies open before you; every year, every day, is like
+an unsullied page, upon which but one name stands inscribed--Frederick
+William--not Prince Frederick William. What does it benefit me that you
+are a prince? If you were not a prince, I should not be despised, my
+children would not be nameless, without fortune, and without justice.
+No, were you not a prince, I should not have felt ashamed and
+grief-stricken, with downcast eyes, before the lady who drove past in
+her splendid carriage, while I was humbly seated in a miserable wagon.
+No, were not my beloved a prince, he could have made me his wife, could
+have given me his name, and I should to-day be at his side with my
+children. Then, what benefit is it to me that you are a prince? I love
+you not that you are one, but notwithstanding it. And if I love you in
+spite of all this, you must know that my affection is ever-enduring and
+ever-faithful--that I can never forget you, never abandon you."
+
+"And do you believe, Wilhelmine, that I could ever abandon or forsake
+you? Is it not the same with me?"
+
+She shook her head, sadly answering: "No, Frederick, it is unfortunately
+not the same. You have loved me, and perhaps you love me still, but with
+that gentle warmth which does not hinder glowing flames to kindle near
+it, and with their passionate fire overpower the slight warmth."
+
+"It may be so for the moment, I grant it," the prince answered,
+thoughtfully; "but the quick, blazing fire soon consumes itself, leaving
+only a heap of ashes; then one turns to the gentle warmth with inward
+comfort, and rejoices in its quiet happiness."
+
+"You confess loving another?" said Wilhelmine, sorrowfully.
+
+"No, I do not grant that," the prince cried; "but you are a sensible,
+clever woman, and you know my heart is easily excited. It is only the
+meteoric light of the ignis fatuus, soon extinguished. Let it dance and
+flicker, but remember that the only warmth which cheers and brightens my
+heart is your love and friendship. You are my first and only love, and
+you will be my last--that I swear to you, and upon it you can rely.
+Every thing is uncertain and wavering in life. They have ruined me,
+lacerated my heart, and there is nothing more in the world which I
+honor. Only sycophants and hypocrites surround me, who speculate upon
+my future greatness; or spies, who would make their fortune today, and
+therefore spy and hang about me, in order to be paid by the reigning
+king, and who slander me in order to be favorites of his. No one at
+court loves me, not even my wife. How should she? She is well aware that
+I married her only at the command of my royal uncle, and she accepted me
+almost with detestation, for they had related to her the unhappiness of
+my first marriage, and the happiness of my first love! She has learned
+the story of my first wife, Elizabeth von Braunschweig, and that of my
+only love, Wilhelmine Enke! She obeyed, like myself, the stern command
+of another, and we were married, as all princes and princesses are,
+and we have had children, as they do. We lead the life of a political
+marriage, but the heart is unwed. We bow before necessity and duty,
+and, believe me, those are the only household gods in the families of
+princes. Happy the man who, besides these stern divinities, possesses
+a little secret temple, in which he can erect an altar to true love and
+friendship, and where he can enjoy a hidden happiness. This I owe to
+you, Wilhelmine; you are the only one in whom I have confidence, for
+you have proved to me that you love me without self-interest and without
+ambition. You have said it, and it is true, you love me, notwithstanding
+I am a prince. I confess to you, there are many lovely women of the
+court who are your rivals, and who would try to separate us in order
+to attract me to themselves. They are beautiful and seductive, and I am
+young and passionate; and if these lovely women have no respect for my
+dignity as a married man, how then should I have it, who married
+for duty, not for love? But there is one whom I respect for
+disinterestedness and fidelity! Do you not know who alone is
+disinterested and faithful?--who has never seen in me the prince, the
+future king--only the beloved one, the man--one who has never wavered,
+never counted the cost?--that you are, Wilhelmine Enke, therefore we are
+inseparable, and you have not to fear that I can ever forsake you, even
+if I am sometimes entangled in the magic nets of other beautiful
+women. The chains which bind us together cannot be torn asunder, for
+a wonderful secret power has consecrated them with the magic of true
+love--of heart-felt friendship."
+
+"Still they are chains, dearest," sighed Wilhelmine. "You have named
+them thus! The chains will at last oppress you, and you will forget the
+magic power which binds you, and will be free. No holy bond, no oath,
+no marriage tie--nothing but your love binds you to me. I rejoice in it,
+and so long as you do not forsake me, I am conscious that it is your own
+free choice and not force which retains you."
+
+"I will give you an outward sign of our bond of union," cried the
+prince. "I will do it today, as a twofold danger hangs over us--the king
+menaces you, and war menaces me."
+
+"Is it then true, do you go with the king to the field?" groaned
+Wilhelmine.
+
+"Do you wish me to remain?" cried the prince, his eyes flashing. "Shall
+I here seek pleasure, with effeminate good nature, while the king, in
+spite of his age, exposes himself to all the fatigue of a campaign
+and the danger of battle? This war of the Bavarian succession is
+unfortunate, and no one knows whether the German empire will derive any
+important advantage from our sustaining by force of arms a little duchy.
+It is a question whether it would not be better to abolish the little
+principalities, in order to strengthen the greater German powers. The
+king will support Bavaria, because he envies Austria its possession,
+and, as he has decided upon war, it becomes his crown prince to yield
+to his decision without murmuring. Therefore, Wilhelmine, I will today
+witness to you the oath of fidelity. If God calls me to Him, if I fall
+in battle, this oath will be your legacy. I have nothing else to leave
+you, thanks to the parsimony of my noble uncle. I am a very poor crown
+prince, with many debts and little money, and not in a condition to
+reward your love and fidelity otherwise than with promises and hopes,
+and letters of credit for the future. Such a bill of exchange I will
+write for you--a legacy for my dear Wilhelmine. Give me pen and paper."
+
+Wilhelmine hastened to her writing table and brought him paper with
+writing materials. "There, my Frederick," said she, "there is every
+thing necessary--only the ink, I fear, may be dried."
+
+The prince shook his head, smiling. "Such a lover's oath as I will
+transcribe for you can be written with no common ink. See, here is my
+ink!"
+
+The prince had suddenly made a slight incision in his arm, and, as the
+blood gushed out, he dipped his pen in it, and wrote; then handed it
+to Wilhelmine, saying: "Read it here, in the presence of God and
+ourselves."
+
+Wilhelmine pressed it to her lips, and read, with a solemn voice: "'By
+my word of honor as a prince, I will never forsake you, and only death
+shall separate you from me.--Prince Frederick William of Prussia.'"
+[Footnote: "Memoires of the Countess Lichtenau." p. 120.]
+
+"By my word of honor as a prince, I will never forsake you, and only
+death shall separate me from you," repeated the prince, as he bent over
+Wilhelmine, lifting her in his arms and placing her upon his knee. "Take
+the paper and guard it carefully," said he. "When I die, and you have
+closed my eyes, as I trust you will, give this paper to my son and
+successor, for it is my legacy to you, and I hope my son will honor it
+and recognize in you the wife of my heart, and care for you."
+
+"Oh! speak not of dying, Frederick," cried Wilhelmine, embracing him
+tenderly; "may they condemn me, and imprison me as a criminal, when you
+are no more! What matters it to me what befalls me, when I no longer
+possess you, my beloved one, my master? Not on that account will I
+preserve the precious paper, but for the love which it has given me,
+and of which it will one day be a proof to my children. This paper is my
+justification and my excuse, my certificate and my declaration of honor.
+I thank you for it, for it is the most beautiful present that I have
+ever received."
+
+"But will you make me no return, Wilhelmine? Will you not swear to me,
+as I have sworn to you?"
+
+She took the knife from the table without answering, and pointing it to
+her left arm--
+
+"Oh, not there!" cried the prince, as he sought to stay her hand. "Do
+not injure your beautiful arm, it would be a sacrilege."
+
+Wilhelmine freed herself from him, as he sought to hold her fast, and
+in the mutual struggle the knife sank deep into her left hand, the blood
+gushing out. [Footnote: The scar of this wound remained her whole life,
+as Wilhelmine relates in her memoirs.--See "Memoires of the Countess
+Lichtenau."]
+
+"Oh, what have you done?" cried the prince, terrified; "You are
+wounded!"
+
+He seized her hand and drew the knife from the wound, screaming with
+terror as a clear stream of blood flowed over his own. "A physician!
+Send quickly for a physician," cried he. "Where are my servants?"
+
+Wilhelmine closed his lips at this instant with a kiss, and forced
+herself to smile in spite of the pain which the wound caused her.
+"Dearest, it is nothing," she cried. "I have only prepared a great
+inkstand--let me write!"
+
+She dipped her pen in the blood, which continued to flow, and wrote
+quickly a few lines, handing them to the prince.
+
+"Read aloud what you have written. I will hear from your own mouth your
+oath. You shall write it upon my heart with your lips."
+
+Wilhelmine read: "By my love, by the heads of my two children, I swear
+that I will never forsake you--that I will be faithful to you unto
+death, and will never separate myself from you; that my friendship and
+love will endure beyond the grave; that I will ever be contented and
+happy so long as I may call myself your Wilhelmine Enke."
+
+"I accept your oath, dearest," said the prince, pressing her to his
+heart. "This paper is one of my choicest jewels, and I will never
+separate myself from it. We have now sealed our love and fidelity with
+our blood, and I hope that you will never doubt me again. Remember this
+hour!"
+
+"I will," she earnestly promised, "and I swear to you never to torment
+and torture you again with my jealousy. I shall always know, and shall
+hold fast to it, that you will return to me."
+
+A violent knocking on the house door interrupted the stillness of the
+night. A voice in loud, commanding tones called to the night-watch.
+
+"Here I am!" answered the porter. "Who calls me? And what is the
+matter?"
+
+"Open the door," commanded the voice again.
+
+"It is our house," whispered Wilhelmine, who had softly opened the
+window. "It is so dark, I can only see a black shadow before the door."
+
+"Do you belong to the house?" asked the night-watch. "I dare let no one
+in who does not belong there."
+
+"Lift up your lantern, and look at my livery. It is at the king's
+order!"
+
+Wilhelmine withdrew from the window, and hastened to the prince, who had
+retired to the back part of the room.
+
+"It is Kretzschmar, the king's footman and spy," she whispered. "Hide
+yourself, that he does not discover you. Go there to the children."
+
+"No, Wilhelmine, I will remain here. I--"
+
+Wilhelmine pressed her hand upon his mouth, and forced him into the
+side-room, bolting the door.
+
+"Now," said she, "I will meet my fate with courage; whatever may come,
+it shall find me firm and composed. My children are safe, for their
+father is with them."
+
+She took the light, and hastened into the anteroom, which was resounding
+with the loud ringing.
+
+"Who is there?" she cried. "Who rings so late at night?"
+
+"In the name of the king, open!"
+
+Wilhelmine shoved back the bolt, opening the door.
+
+"Come in," she said, "and tell me who you are."
+
+"I think you recognize me," said Kretzschmar, with an impudent smile.
+"You have often seen me at Potsdam in company with the king. I saw you
+this morning as the king did you the honor to speak with you, and I
+believe did not compliment you."
+
+"Did his majesty send you here to say this to me?"
+
+"No, not exactly that," answered he, smiling; "but, as you asked me, I
+was obliged to answer. I have come here with all speed as courier
+from Potsdam. I hope you will at least give me a good trinkgeld. I was
+commanded to deliver into your own hands this paper, for which I must
+have a receipt." He drew from his breast pocket a large sealed document,
+which he handed to Wilhelmine. "Here is the receipt all ready, with the
+pencil; you have only to sign your name, and the business is finished."
+He stretched himself with an air of the greatest ease upon the cane
+chair, near the door.
+
+Wilhelmine colored with anger at the free conduct of the royal footman,
+and hastened to sign the receipt to rid herself of the messenger, and to
+read the letter.
+
+"What will you give me for trinkgeld, Mamselle Enke?" asked the footman,
+as she gave him the receipt.
+
+"Your own rudeness and insult," answered Wilhelmine proudly, as she
+turned, without saluting him, to the sitting-room.
+
+Kretzschmar laughed aloud. "She will play the great and proud lady,"
+said he. "She will get over that when in prison. The letter is without
+doubt an order of arrest, for when the king flashes and thunders as he
+did this morning, he usually strikes. I hope it will agree with you." He
+slowly left the anteroom, and descended the stairs to mount his horse,
+which he had bound to a tree.
+
+Wilhelmine hastened in the mean time to the prince. "Here is the letter
+addressed to me," said she, handing him the sealed envelope. "I beg you
+to open it; courage fails me, everything trembles and swims before my
+eyes. Read it aloud--I will receive my sentence from your lips."
+
+The prince exclaimed, breaking the seal: "It is the handwriting of the
+secret cabinet secretary, Menken, and the message comes immediately from
+the king's cabinet. Now, Wilhelmine, do not tremble; lean your head upon
+me, and let us read."
+
+"'In the name of his majesty, Wilhelmine Enke is commanded, under
+penalty of severe punishment, not to leave her room or her dwelling,
+until the king shall permit her, and send some one to take her and all
+that belongs to her to her place of destination. She shall receive
+this order with patience and humility, and consider her apartment as a
+prison, which she shall not leave under severe penalty, nor allow any
+one to enter it. Whoever may be with her at the time of receiving the
+order, who do not belong there, shall speedily absent themselves, and if
+the same ride or drive to Potsdam, they shall immediately take a message
+to his royal highness the Prince of Prussia, and announce to him that
+his majesty expects him at Sans-Souci at ten o'clock tomorrow morning.
+The Minister von Herzberg will be in waiting to confer with the prince.
+The above is communicated to Wilhelmine Enke for her strict observance,
+and she will act accordingly.'"
+
+A long silence followed the reading of this letter. Both looked down,
+thoughtfully recalling the contents.
+
+"A prisoner," murmured Wilhelmine, "a prisoner in my own house."
+
+"And for me the peremptory command to leave immediately for Potsdam, in
+order to be at Sans-Souci early in the morning. What can the king mean?"
+
+"He will announce to you my imprisonment, my exile," sighed Wilhelmine.
+
+The crown prince shook his head. "No," said he, "I do not believe it. If
+the king would send you to prison, he would not make such preparation;
+he would not commence with the house arrest, as if you were an officer,
+who had been guilty of some slight insubordination, but he would act
+with decision, as is his wont. He would at once have sent you to Spandau
+or some other prison, and left it to me to have taken further steps.
+No--the more I think it over, the more evident it is to me that the king
+is not really angry; he will only torment us a little, as it pleases his
+teasing spirit. The chief thing now is to obey, and give him no
+further occasion for anger. You must be very careful not to leave your
+apartment, or to allow any one to enter it. I shall start without delay
+for Potsdam. There are spies posted as well for you as myself; our steps
+are watched, and an exact account of them given. I must away quickly."
+
+"Must you leave me a prisoner? Oh, how hard and cruel life is!"
+
+"Yes, it is, indeed, Wilhelmine. But I must also humbly submit and obey.
+Is not life hard for me, and yet I am crown prince, the heir to the
+throne! I shall be reprimanded and scolded like a footman. I must obey
+as a slave, and am not permitted to act according to my will. I am only
+a mere peg in the great machine which he directs, and the--"
+
+"Hush! for mercy's sake be quiet! What if some one should hear you? You
+know not if the spies may not be at the door."
+
+"True," said the prince, bitterly. "I do not know! The nurse even, who
+suckles our child, may be a paid spy. The owner of this house may be
+in the king's service, and creep to the door to listen. Therefore it
+is necessary, above all things, that we act according to the king's
+commands. Farewell, Wilhelmine, I must set off at once. Kretzschmar is
+no doubt at the corner of the street to see whether I, as an obedient
+servant of his master, leave here. If I do it, he will take the news to
+Sans-Souci, and perhaps the king will be contented. Farewell, I go at
+once to the palace, to start from there for Potsdam."
+
+"Farewell, my beloved one! May God in heaven and the king upon earth be
+merciful to us! I will force myself to composure and humility. What I
+suffer is for you! This shall be my consolation. If we never meet again,
+Frederick William, I know you will not forget how much I have loved
+you!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. THE PARADE.
+
+
+Since early morning a gay, warlike life had reigned at Potsdam and
+the neighborhood of Sans-Souci. From every side splendid regiments
+approached, with proud and stately bearing, in glittering uniforms, to
+take in perfect order the places assigned to them. With flying banners,
+drums beating, and shrill blasts of trumpets, they came marching on
+to the great parade--the last, for the king was about to leave for the
+field. Thousands of spectators poured forth, notwithstanding the early
+hour, from Potsdam; and from Berlin even they came in crowds, to take
+a last look of the soldiers--of their king, who was still the hero at
+sixty-nine--the "Alto Fritz," whom they adored--though they felt the
+rigor of his government. It was a magnificent spectacle, indeed--this
+immense square, filled with regiments, their helmets, swords, and gold
+embroideries glittering in the May sun. Officers, mounted on richly
+caparisoned steeds, drew up in the centre, or galloped along the front
+of the lines, censuring with a thundering invective any deviation or
+irregularity. In the rear of the troops stood the equipages of the
+distinguished spectators on the one side, while on the other the people
+in compact masses swayed to and fro, gayly passing judgment upon the
+different regiments and their generals. The people--that means all
+those who were not rich enough to have a carriage, or sufficiently
+distinguished to claim a place upon the tribune reserved for noble
+ladies and gentlemen--here they stood, the educated and uneducated,
+shoemaker and tailor, savant and artist--a motley mixture! Two gentlemen
+of the high citizen class apparently were among the crowd. They were
+dressed in the favorite style, which, since the "Sorrows of Werther" had
+appeared, was the fashion--tight-fitting boots, reaching to the knee,
+with yellow tops; white breeches, over which fell the long-bodied green
+vest; a gray frock with long pointed tails and large metal buttons,
+well-powdered cue, tied with little ribbons, surmounted with a low,
+wide-brimmed hat. Only one of the gentlemen wore the gray frock,
+according to the faultless Werther costume, a young man of scarcely
+thirty years, of fine figure, and proud bearing; a face expressive
+and sympathetic, reminding one of the glorious portraits of men which
+antiquity has bequeathed to us. It seemed like the head of a god
+descended to earth, noble in every feature, full of grace and beauty;
+the slightly Roman nose well marked yet delicate; the broad, thoughtful
+brow; the cheeks flushed with the hue of youth and power; the
+well-defined chin and red lips, expressive of goodness, benevolence,
+roguery, and haughtiness; large, expressive eyes, flashing with the
+fire which the gods had enkindled. His companion was perhaps eight years
+younger, less well-proportioned, still of graceful appearance, in his
+youthful freshness, with frank, cheerful mien, clever, good-natured,
+sparkling eyes, and red, pouting lips, which never liked to cease
+chatting.
+
+"See, Wolff! I beg," said the young man, "see that old waddling duck,
+Mollendorf. I know the old fellow, he is from Gotha; he imagines himself
+of the greatest importance, and thinks Prussia begets fame and honor
+from his grace. He trumpets forth his own glories at a dinner, and
+abuses his king. He makes Frederick the Great an insignificant little
+being, that he may look over him."
+
+"Unimportant men always do that," answered the other. "They would make
+great men small, and think by placing themselves on high pedestals they
+become great. The clown striding through the crowd on his stilts may
+even look over an emperor. But fortunately there comes a time when
+the dear clown must come down from his stilts, and then it is clear
+to others, if not to himself, what little, earth-born snips the men of
+yesterday are."
+
+"Only look, Wolff, there is just such a moment coming to that stiltsman
+Mollendorf. How the great man stoops, and how small he looks on his gray
+horse, for a greater springs past! Look at him well, Wolff--we shall
+dine with him, and he does not like to be stared at in the face."
+
+"Is that, then, Prince Henry passing?" asked Wolff, with animation;
+"That little general, who just galloped into the circle with his suite,
+is that the king's brother?"
+
+"Yes, that is just his misfortune that he is the king's brother,"
+answered a deep, sonorous voice behind them.
+
+Turning, they beheld a young, elegantly dressed man, in the light gray
+frock and gold-bordered, three-cornered hat, and a Spanish cane, with an
+ivory handle.
+
+"What did you remark, sir?" asked Herr Wolff; his great, brown eyes
+flashing over the pale, intellectual face of the other, so that he was
+quite confused, yet, as if enchanted, could not turn away. "What did you
+remark, sir?" asked again Herr Wolff.
+
+"I believe," stammered the other, "that I said it was the misfortune
+of the prince that he was the brother only, as he was worthy of being
+mentioned for himself; but I beg, sir, be a little indulgent, and do not
+pry into my very soul with your godlike eyes. It will craze me, and
+I shall run through the streets of Berlin, crying that the
+Apollo-Belvedere has arrived at Potsdam, and invite all the poets and
+authors to come and worship him."
+
+"I believe you are right," cried the youngest of the two gentlemen,
+laughing. "I believe myself it is the Apollo-Belvedere."
+
+"Be still, my dear sir, hush, and preserve our incognito," interrupted
+his companion.
+
+"But I cannot help it, Wolff. Am I to blame that this clever fellow sees
+through your mask, and discovers the divine spark which hides itself
+under a gray Werther costume?"
+
+"I pray, sir, grant my request, and respect our incognito," begged the
+other, gently but firmly.
+
+"Well, well, you shall have your way," laughed the other,
+good-naturedly, and turning to the pale young man, who still kept his
+eyes fixed on Herr Wolff in a sort of ecstacy, he said: "Let the authors
+and poets stay in Berlin; we will persuade the disguised Apollo to meet
+them there, and read them a lecture, for among the Berlin poets and
+critics there are wicked heretics, who, if the Deity Himself wrote
+tragedies and verses, would find some fault to object to."
+
+"Pray tell me, sir, do you think Prince Henry a great man?"
+
+"Did not the king call him so in his 'History of the Seven Years' War?'"
+said the stranger. "Did he not publicly, in the presence of all his
+generals, say, 'that Prince Henry was the only general who had not made
+a mistake during the whole war?'"
+
+"Do you believe the king will say that of the prince just riding in
+with his suite, after the present war?" asked the young man, with
+earnestness.
+
+"You mean the Prince of Prussia," answered the other, shaking his head.
+"There are men who call this prince the 'hope of Prussia,' and regard
+him as a new Aurora in the clouded sky."
+
+"And you, sir, do you regard him so?" cried Herr Wolff.
+
+"Do you mean that the Prince of Prussia will usher in a brighter day for
+Germany?"
+
+"No," answered the other. "I believe that day expires with Frederick the
+Great, and that a long night of darkness will succeed."
+
+"Why do you think so?"
+
+"Because it is the course of nature that darkness succeeds light. Look
+at the prince, gentlemen--the divine light of genius is not stamped
+upon his brow, as formerly, and care will be taken that it is soon
+extinguished altogether."
+
+"Who will take care?"
+
+"Those who are the enemies of light, civilization, and freedom."
+
+"Who are they?" asked Herr Wolff.
+
+The other smiled, and answered: "Sir, so far as I, in all humility,
+call myself a scholar, I also owe to the god Apollo obedience, and must
+answer him, though it may endanger me. I answer, then, the enemies of
+light and civilization are the disguised Jesuits."
+
+"Oh, it is easy to perceive that you do not belong to them, or you would
+not thus characterize them, and--"
+
+A mighty flourish of drums, and shrill blasts of horns and trumpets,
+drowned the youth's words, and made all further conversation impossible.
+The king, followed by a brilliant suite, had just arrived at the parade.
+The regiments greeted their sovereign with loud blasts of trumpets, and
+the people shouted their farewell. Frederick lifted lightly his hat,
+and rode along the ranks of the well-ordered troops. He listened to the
+shouts with calm, composed manner; the Jupiter-flashes from his great
+eyes seemed to be spent forever. Mounted upon Caesar, his favorite
+horse, he looked today more bent, his back more bowed with the burden
+of years; and it was plainly visible that the hand which held the staff
+crosswise over the horse's neck, holding at the same time the bridle,
+trembled from very weakness.
+
+"That is Frederick," said Herr Wolff to himself. "That is the hero
+before whom Europe has trembled; the daring prince who caused the sun to
+rise upon his country, and awaken the spirits to cheerful life. Oh, how
+lamentable; how much to be regretted, that a hero, too, can grow feeble
+and old! Oh, cruel fate, that the noblest spirits embodied in this
+fragile humanity, and--"
+
+Suddenly he ceased, and looked at the king amazed and with admiration.
+The old man had become the hero again. The bowed form was erect, the
+face beamed with energy and conscious power, the eyes flashed with bold
+daring, strong and sonorous was the voice. The king had turned to
+his generals, who were drawn up around him in a large circle, saying:
+"Gentlemen, I come to take leave of you. We shall meet again upon the
+battle-field, where laurels bloom for the brave. I hope that we may all
+return, crowned with fresh laurels. Tell my soldiers that I count upon
+them--that I know they will prove the glory of the Prussian troops
+anew, and that on the day of battle they will see me at their
+head.--Farewell!"
+
+"Long live the king!" cried the generals and staff officers, in one
+voice. The people and the soldiers joined the shout, the ladies waved
+their handkerchiefs. Herr Wolff and his companions tore off their hats
+with enthusiasm, and swung them high in the air.
+
+The great eyes of the king, who passed at this moment, rested upon Herr
+Wolff. "My heart quaked as if I were the pillar of Memnon, and had been
+touched by the sun's rays," sighed he, as he followed the king with his
+fiery glance.
+
+"The ceremony is now finished," said the young man near him, "and we
+must leave, in order to be punctual to dinner at Prince Henry's."
+
+"I wish the king had remained an hour longer," sighed Herr Wolff again.
+"As I looked at him, it seemed as if I were listening to a song from
+Homer, and all my faculties were in unison in delight and enthusiasm.
+Happy those who dare approach him, and remain near him!"
+
+"Then, according to your opinion, his servants must be very fortunate,"
+said the stranger, "and yet they say that he is not very kind to them."
+
+"Because the servant is a little man," cried Herr Wolff, "and every one
+looks little to his belittling eyes."
+
+"Yes, there are many others no more elevated than servants in the king's
+surroundings," said the other. The youth reminded him that they must
+leave.
+
+"Only wait a moment, friend," begged Herr Wolff, as he turned to the
+stranger, saying, "I would like to continue our conversation of today.
+You live in Berlin. I will find you out if you will give me your name."
+
+"I pray you to visit me; my name is Moritz. I live in Kloster Strasse,
+near the gray convent."
+
+"Your name is Moritz?", asked Herr Wolff, earnestly. "Then you are the
+author of the 'Journey to England?'"
+
+"Yes, the same, and my highest encomium is, that the work is not unknown
+to you, or the name of the author."
+
+"All Germany knows it, and do you think I could possibly remain a
+stranger to it?"
+
+"But your name, sir," said the stranger, with anxious curiosity. "Will
+you not give me your name?"
+
+"I will tell you when we are in your own room," said Herr Wolff,
+smiling.
+
+"The air is yet enchanted and intoxicated with the breath of the Great
+Frederick; it should not be desecrated with another name.--Farewell, we
+will meet in Berlin."
+
+Not far from these gentlemen stood two others, wrapped in long military
+cloaks, both of striking and foreign appearance; the one, of slight
+delicate figure, of dark complexion, noble and handsome face, must be
+an Italian, as his very black hair and eyes betrayed; the other, tall,
+broad-shouldered, of Herculean stature, belonged to North Germany, as
+the blond hair, light blue eyes, and features indicated. A pleasing
+smile played around his thick, curled lips, and only when he glanced at
+his companion did it die away, and change to one of respectful devotion.
+At this instant the king passed. The Italian pressed the arm of his
+companion.
+
+"The arch fiend himself," he murmured softly, "the demon of unbelief,
+to whom nothing is sacred, and nothing intimidates. The contemptuously
+smiling spirit of negation, which is called enlightenment, and is
+but darkness, to whom belief is superstition, and enlightening only
+deception. Woe to him!"
+
+"Woe to him!" repeated the other.
+
+The king was followed by his brilliant and select staff in motley
+confusion. First, Prince Henry, and then the Prince of Prussia. As the
+latter passed the two gentlemen, the Italian pressed the arm of his
+companion still harder. "Look at him attentively, my son," said he,
+"that is our future and our hope in this country."
+
+The Hercules turned hastily, with a look of astonishment, to the
+Italian. "The Prince of Prussia?" asked he, with amazement.
+
+The Italian nodded. "Do you doubt it?" he added, reproachfully. "Would
+you doubt your lord and master, because he reveals to you what you
+cannot seize with your clouded spirit?"
+
+"No, no, master, I am only surprised that you hope for good from this
+lost-in-sin successor to the throne."
+
+"Yes, you are poor, human children," sighed the Italian, compassionately
+smiling; "prompt to judge, mistaking light for darkness, and darkness
+for light. I have already remarked that to the celebrated and austere
+Minister Sully, as he complained to me of the levity and immorality of
+the French king, Henry IV. I told him that austere morals and moral laws
+suffered exceptions, and that those through whom the welfare of humanity
+should be furthered, had to transfer their heavenly bliss of love to the
+earthly sphere. Sully would contest the question with me, but I defeated
+him, while I repeated to him what the beautiful and unhappy Queen of
+Scotland, Mary Stuart, once said to me."
+
+"Mary Stuart!" cried the other, vehemently.
+
+"Yes, Mary Stuart," answered the Italian, earnestly. "Come, my son, let
+us go. We have seen what we wished to see, and that is sufficient. Give
+me thy arm, and let us depart."
+
+They departed arm in arm, withdrawing from the crowd, and taking the
+broad walk which crossed to the park.
+
+"You were about to relate to me the answer which Mary Stuart gave to
+you, sir," said the Hercules, timidly.
+
+"True; I will now relate it to you," he answered, with sadness. "It was
+in Edinburgh I had surprised Mary (as I was admitted without ceremony),
+in her boudoir, as the handsome Rizzio sat at her feet, and sang
+love-songs to her. She was resting upon a gold-embroidered divan,
+and her figure appeared to great advantage in the heavenly blue,
+silver-embroidered gauze robe, which covered her beautiful limbs like
+a cloud. In her hair sparkled two diamonds, like two stars fallen from
+heaven, and more glowing still were her eyes, which tenderly rested upon
+Rizzio. Leaning upon her elbow, she inclined toward Rizzio, who, lute in
+hand, was looking up to her with a countenance expressive of the deepest
+love. It was a glorious picture, this young and charming couple, in
+their bliss of love; and never, in the course of this century, have I
+forgotten this exquisite picture--never have its bright tints faded from
+my memory. How often have I begged my friend, Antonio Vandyck, to make
+this picture eternal, with his immortal pencil. He promised to do it,
+but at the moment he was occupied with the portraits of Charles I. and
+his family--the grandson of Queen Mary. Later, as I was not with him,
+unfortunately, to save him, death seized him before he had fulfilled his
+promise. But her image is stamped upon my heart, and I see her now, as I
+saw her then, the beautiful queen, with the handsome singer at her feet.
+I had entered unawares, and stood a few moments at the door before they
+remarked me. As I approached, Rizzio suddenly ceased in the midst of a
+tender passage, and sprang to his feet. Mary signed to him, blushing,
+to withdraw. He glided noiselessly out, his lute under his arm, and I
+remained alone with the queen. I dared to chide her, gently, for her
+love affair with the handsome singer, and, above all, to exhort her to
+fidelity to her husband. Whereupon Mary answered me, with her accustomed
+smiling manner, 'There is but one fidelity which one must recognize, and
+that is to the god of gods--Love! Where he is not, I will not be. The
+god Hymen is a tedious, pedantic fellow, who burns to ashes all the
+fresh young love of the heart, and all the enthusiasm of the soul, with
+his intolerable tallow torch, for Love stands not at his side. I am
+faithful to the god Amor, therefore I can never be faithful to the god
+Hymen, as it would be unfaithful to Love!' That was the response of the
+beautiful Queen Mary. I could not contest the question, so I only looked
+at her and smiled. Suddenly, I felt a dagger, as it were, thrust at my
+heart, my spiritual eyes were opened, the lovely woman on the divan was
+fearfully changed. Instead of the gauze robe, sparkling with silver, a
+black cloth dress covered her emaciated limbs; instead of brilliants,
+sparkling in her hair, a mourning veil covered her whitened locks. The
+beauty and roundness of her neck had disappeared, and I saw around it a
+broad dark-red stripe. Her head moved, and fell at my feet dissevered.
+I saw it all, as distinctly as if it really happened, and seized with
+unspeakable pity I prostrated myself at her feet (who was unknowing
+of my vision), and besought her with all the anxiety and tenderness
+of friendship to leave Scotland, to fly from England, as there the
+death-tribunal awaited her. But Mary Stuart only laughed at my warning,
+and called me a melancholy fool, whom jealousy made prophetic. The more
+I begged and implored, the more wanton and gay the poor woman became.
+Then, as I saw all persuasion was vain, that no one could save her from
+her dreadful fate, I took a solemn oath that I would be at her side at
+the hour of her peril, and accompany her to the scaffold. Mary laughed
+aloud, and, with that mocking gayety so peculiarly her own, she accepted
+the oath, and reached me her white hand, sparkling with diamonds, to
+seal the vow with a kiss. I faithfully kept it. I had but just arrived
+in Rome when I received the account of her imprisonment. I presented
+myself immediately to the pope, the great Sixtus V., who then occupied
+the chair of St. Peter. Fortunately, he was my friend, and I had
+formerly been useful to him, in assisting him to carry out his great
+and liberal ideas for the welfare of humanity. As a return, I prayed the
+Holy Father to give me a consecrated hostie for the unhappy Queen Mary
+Stuart, and the permission to carry it to her in her prison. The Holy
+Father was incredulous of my sad presentiments, as Mary Stuart herself
+had been, but he granted me the request. I quitted Rome, and travelled
+with relays day and night. Reaching Boulogne, a Dover packet-boat had
+just raised anchor; I succeeded in boarding her, and arrived in London
+the next evening. The day following, the execution of the queen took
+place at Fotheringay. I was with her in her last hours, and from my hand
+she received the consecrated water of Pope Sixtus V. I had kept my oath.
+I accompanied her to the scaffold, and her head rolled at my feet, as I
+had seen it in my vision at Edinburgh. It was the 18th of April, 1587,
+and it seems to me as but yesterday. To the intuitive, seeing
+spirit, time and space disappear; eternity and immortality are to it
+omnipresent."
+
+Given up to his souvenirs and visions, the Italian appeared not to know
+where he wandered, and turned unintentionally to the retired, lonely
+places in the park. His companion heeded not the way either, occupied
+with the strange account of the Italian. A dreadful feeling of awe and
+horror took possession of his soul, and, with devoted respect, he hung
+upon the words which fell from the lips of his companion.
+
+"It was in the year 1587," said he, as the Italian ceased; "almost two
+hundred years since, and you were present?"
+
+The Italian replied: "I was present. I have witnessed so many dreadful
+scenes, and been present at so many executions, that this sad spectacle
+was not an unusual one to me, and would not have remained fixed in my
+memory had I not loved, devotedly and fervently, the beautiful Queen
+Mary Stuart. For those who live in eternity, all horrors have ceased;
+time rushes past in centuries, which seem to them but a day."
+
+"Teach me so to live, master; I thirst for knowledge," cried his
+companion, fervently.
+
+"I know it, my son; I penetrate thy soul, and I know that thou
+thirstest. Therefore I am here to quench thy thirst, and feed thy hungry
+heart." He remained standing upon the grass-plot, which he had reached
+by lonely paths, and which was encircled by trees and bushes. Not a
+sound interrupted the peaceful morning stillness of the place, except
+the distant music of the departing regiments dying away on the air. "I
+will teach thee to live in eternity!" resumed the Italian, solemnly.
+"My predecessor the apostle, George Schrepfer, has initiated thee in
+temporal life, and the knowledge of the present. By the pistol-shot,
+which disclosed to him the invisible world, and removed him from our
+earthly eyes, has he to thee, his most faithful and believing disciple,
+given the great doctrine of the decay of all things earthly, and
+prepared thee for the doctrine of the imperishableness of the celestial.
+The original of humanity sends me, to make known to thee this holy
+doctrine. When I met thee in Dresden, at the side of the Countess
+Dorothea von Medem, thee, whom I had never seen, I recognized by the
+blue flame which trembled above thy head, and which was nothing else
+than the soul of thy teacher, Schrepfer, wrestling in anguish, which has
+remained with thee, and hopes for delivery from thee. I greeted thee,
+therefore, not as a stranger but as a friend. No one called thy name,
+and yet it was known to me. I took thee by the hand, greeting thee. Hans
+Rudolph von Bischofswerder, be welcome. The blue flame which glows
+upon thy brow, guides me to thee, and the pistol-shot under the oaks
+centuries old, at Rosenthal, near Leipsic, was the summons which my
+spirit received among the pyramids of Egypt, and which recalled me
+to Europe, to my own, and thou art one of them."[Footnote: George
+Schrepfer, the founder of the Secret Free Mason Lodge (at the same
+time proprietor of a restaurant and a conjuror), invited his intimate
+disciples and believers in the year 1774, to whom Bischofswerder
+belonged, to meet him at Rosenthal, near Leipsic. He assembled them
+around him, beneath some old oaks, to take leave of them, as now he
+would render himself in the invisible realm, whence, as a spirit, he
+would distribute to some of his disciples gold, to others wisdom. He
+then commanded them to conceal their faces and pray. The praying ones
+suddenly heard a loud report, and, as they looked up Schrepfer fell
+dead. He had shot himself with a pistol.]
+
+"And as thou spakest, oh master, I recognized thee, and I called--' Thou
+art here, who hast been announced to me. Thou art the master, and my
+master Schrepfer was the prophet, who preceded thee and prophesied thee.
+Thou art the great Kophta--thou art Count Alexander Cagliostro!' As
+I uttered the name, the lights were extinguished, deep darkness and
+profound stillness reigned. The two countesses Dorothea von Medem and
+her sister, Eliza von der Necke, clung trembling to me, neither of them
+daring to break the silence even with a sigh. Suddenly the darkness
+disappeared, and, with trembling flashes of light, there stood written
+on the wall: 'Memento Domini Oagliostro et omnis mansuetudinis ejus.'
+We sank upon our knees, and implored thee to aid us. By degrees the
+strange, secret characters disappeared, and darkness and silence
+reigned. The stillness disquieted me at last, and I called for lights.
+As the servant entered, the two countesses lay fainting upon the floor,
+and thou hadst disappeared."
+
+"Only to appear to thee at another time," said Cagliostro, "to receive
+thee with solemn ceremonies into the magic circle--to initiate thee in
+the secret wisdom of spirits, and prepare thee for the invisible lodge.
+Recall what I said to thee, three days since, in Dresden. Do you still
+remember it?"
+
+"I recall it. Thou saidst: 'The secret service calls me to Mittau, with
+the Countess Medem, to raise hidden treasure, of which the spirit has
+given me knowledge, and decipher important magical characters on the
+walls of a cloister. Before I leave, I will lead thee upon the way which
+thou hast to follow in order to find the light, and let it illuminate
+the soul which is worthy. Follow me, and I will lead thee to the path of
+glory, power, and immortality.' These were thy words, master."
+
+"I have now led thee hither," Cagliostro said to him, gently; "thy
+soul doubts and trembles, for thou art blind seeing eyes, and deaf with
+hearing ears."
+
+"My soul doubts not, oh master--it comprehends not. I have followed
+thee, devotedly and believingly. Thou knowest it, master, for thou
+readest the souls of thy children, and seest their hidden thoughts.
+Thou hast said to me in Dresden, 'Renounce your service to the Duke of
+Courland.' I did it, and from equerry and lord chamberlain to the duke,
+became a simple, private gentleman. I have renounced my titles and
+dignities for thee, in happy trust in thee. My future lies in thy hands,
+and, anxious to learn the mysteries of immortality, as a grateful,
+trustful scholar, I would receive happiness and unhappiness at thy
+hand."
+
+"Thou shalt receive not only happiness," said Cagliostro, solemnly, "but
+thou art one of the elect. The blue flame glows upon thy brow, it will
+illuminate thy soul, and lead thee to the path of glory, power, and
+might. To-day thou art a simple, private gentleman, as thou sayst, but
+to-morrow thou wilt become a distinguished lord, before whom hundreds
+will bow. Fame awaits thee--which thou hast longed for--as power awaits
+thee. Whom have I named to thee as our future and our hope in this
+land?"
+
+"Prince Frederick William of Prussia," answered Herr von Bischofswerder,
+humbly.
+
+"As I spake this name, thou trembledst, and calledst him 'one lost in
+sin.' Knowest thou, my son, from sin comes penitence, and from penitence
+elevation and purification. Thou art called and chosen to convert
+sinners, and lead back the earth-born child to heaven. Engrave these
+words upon thy memory, fill thy soul with them, as with glowing flames,
+repeat them in solitude the entire day, then heavenly spirits will
+arise and whisper the revelations of the future. Then, when thou art
+consecrated, I will introduce thee into the sacred halls of sublime
+wisdom. Thou shalt be received as a scholar in the temple hall, and it
+depends upon thee whether thou advancest to the altar which reaches to
+the invisible world of miracles."
+
+"Oh, master," cried Bisehofswerder, with a countenance beaming with joy,
+and sinking upon his knees, "wilt thou favor me, and introduce me to the
+temple hall? Shall I be received in the sacred world of spirits?"
+
+"Thou shalt, Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder. The grand master of our
+order will bestow upon thee this happiness, and to-night shall the star
+of the future rise over thee. Hold thyself in readiness. At midnight,
+present thyself at the first portal of the royal palace in Berlin. A
+man will meet thee, and thou shalt ask, 'Who is our hope?' If he answers
+thee, 'The Prince of Prussia,' then he is the messenger which I shall
+have sent thee--follow him. Bow thy head in humility, shut thine eyes
+to all earthly things, turn thy thoughts inward, and lift them up to
+the great departed, which hovers over thy head, and speak with the blue
+flame which glows upon thy brow!"
+
+Bischofswerder bowed still lower, covered his face with his hands, as
+if inwardly praying, and knelt. Cagliostro bent over him, laid his hand
+upon his head, breathing three times upon his blond hair.
+
+"I have breathed upon thee with the breath of my spirit," said he. "Thy
+spirit receives power. Receive it in holy awe, in devotion, and remain
+immovable."
+
+Bischofswerder continued motionless, with bowed head and concealed face.
+Cagliostro raised himself, his black eyes fixed upon his disciple,
+and noiselessly disappeared. Herr von Bischofswerder still remained
+kneeling. After some time he raised his head, shyly looking about, and,
+as he found himself alone, he rose. "He has soared away," he murmured,
+softly. "I shall see him again, and he will consecrate me--the
+consecration of immortals!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR.
+
+
+The king withdrew from the parade slowly, followed by his generals, in
+the direction of Sans-Souci. The streets of Potsdam were lined with the
+people, shouting their farewell to the king, who received them with a
+smiling face. Arriving at the grand entrance, he turned to his suite,
+saying, "Gentlemen, we shall meet again in Bohemia; I must now take
+leave of you, and forego the pleasure of receiving you again to-day. A
+king about to leave for the field has necessary arrangements to make
+for the future. I have much to occupy me, as I set out early to-morrow
+morning. You, also, have duties to attend to. Farewell, gentlemen."
+
+He raised his worn-out three-cornered hat, saluted his generals with a
+slight inclination of the head, and turned into the broad avenue which
+led to the park of Sans-Souci. No one followed him but two mounted
+footmen, who rode at a respectful distance, attentively regarding the
+king, of whom only the bowed back and hat were visible. Half way down
+the avenue his staff was raised above his hat, the sign the footmen
+awaited to dismount with the greyhounds, which rode before them upon the
+saddle. At the shrill barking of the animals, Frederick reined in his
+horse, and turned to look for them. They bounded forward, one upon
+each side of the king, who regarded them right and left, saying: "Well,
+Alkmene, well Diana, let us see who will be the lady of honor to-day."
+
+Both dogs sprang with loud barking to the horse, as if understanding the
+words of their master. Alkmene, stronger, or more adroit, with one bound
+leaped to the saddle; while poor Diana landed upon the crouper, and,
+as if ashamed, with hanging head and tail, withdrew behind the horse.
+"Alkmene has won!" said Kretzschmar to his companion. "Yes, Alkmene is
+the court-lady to-day, and Diana the companion," he nodded. "She will be
+cross, and I do not blame her."
+
+"Nor I," said Kretzschmar; "there is a great difference between the
+court-lady and the companion. The lady remains with the king all day;
+he plays with her, takes her to walk, gives her bonbons, and the choice
+morsels of chicken, and only when she has eaten sufficient, can the
+companion enter to eat the remainder." [Footnote: This was the daily
+order of rank with the favorite dogs, for whose service two dog-lackeys,
+as they were called, were always in waiting. They took them to walk]
+
+"One could almost envy the king's greyhounds!" sighed the second
+footman. "We get dogs' wages, and they the chicken and good treatment.
+It is a pity!"
+
+"The worst of it is, the king forbids us to marry!" said Kretzschmar
+sadly. "All the others would leave him, but I pay no attention to old
+Fritz's snarling and scolding, for he pays for it afterward; first, it
+rains abusive words, then dollars, and if the stupid ass hits me over
+the head, he gives me at least a ducat for it. Why should not one endure
+scoldings when is well paid for it? I remain the fine handsome fellow
+that I am, if the old bear does call me an ass! His majesty might well
+be satisfied if he had my fine figure and good carriage."
+
+"Yes, indeed, we are very different fellows from old Fritz!" said the
+second lackey, with a satisfied air. "A princess once thought me a
+handsome fellow! It is eleven years since, as I entered the guards on
+account of my delicate figure. I was guard of honor in the anteroom of
+the former crown princess of Prussia. It was my first experience. I
+did not know the ways of the lords and ladies. Suddenly, a charming and
+beautifully-dressed lady came into the anteroom, two other young ladies
+following her, joking and laughing, quite at their pleasure. All at
+once the elegantly-attired lady fixed her large black eyes upon me, so
+earnestly, that I grew quite red, and looked down. 'See that handsome
+boy,' she cried. 'I will bet that it is a girl dressed up!' She ran up
+to me, and began to stroke my cheek with her soft hand, and laughed. 'I
+am right. He has not the trace of a beard; it is a girl!' And before I
+knew it she kissed me, then again, and a third time even. I stood still
+as if enchanted, and, as I thought another kiss was coming, whack went
+a stout box on my ear. 'There is a punishment for you,' said she, 'that
+you may know enough to return a kiss when a handsome lady gives you when
+the king did not wish them with him; in summer, in an open wagon, the
+dogs upon the back-seat, and the footmen upon the forward seat, and
+whenever they reproved them, to bring them to order, they addressed them
+in the polite manner of one, and not stand like a libber,' and with that
+she boxed me again. The other two ladies laughed, which made me angry,
+and my ears were very warm. 'If that happens again,' said I, 'by
+thunder, she will find I do not wait to be punished!' I laid down the
+arms, and at once sprang after the lady, when--the folding-doors were
+thrown open, and two gentlemen, in splendid gold-embroidered dresses,
+entered. As they saw the little lady, they stood astonished, and made
+the three prescribed bows. I smelt the rat, and put on my sword quickly,
+and stood stiff as a puppet. The gentlemen said, that they must beg an
+interview with her royal highness, to deliver the king's commands. The
+princess went into an adjoining room. One of the court-ladies stopped
+before me a moment, and said: 'If you ever dare to tell of this, you
+shall be put in the fortress. Remember it, and keep silent.' I did so,
+and kept it a secret until to-day."
+
+"Did the princess ever punish you again?" asked Kretzchmar, with a bold,
+spying look.
+
+"No, never," answered the lackey Schultz. "The princess was ordered to
+Stettin the next day, where she still lives as a prisoner for her gay
+pranks. I remembered her punishment, and when a lady has kissed me, I
+have bravely returned it."
+
+The footmen had followed the king up the slowly ascending horse-path
+to the terrace, and now they sprang quickly forward. Kretzschmar swung
+himself from his saddle, threw Schultz the reins, and, as the king
+drew up at the side-door of the palace of Sans-Souci, he stood ready
+to assist him to dismount. The king had given strict orders that no
+one should notice his going or coming, and to-day, as usual, he entered
+without pomp or ceremony into his private room, followed by Kretzschmar
+alone. He sank back into his armchair, the blue damask covering of which
+was torn and bitten by the dogs, so that the horse-hair stood out from
+the holes.
+
+"Now relate to me, Kretzschmar, how your expedition succeeded. Did you
+go to Berlin to see Mademoiselle Enke last night?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty, I was there, and have brought you the writing."
+
+"Was she alone?" asked the king, bending over to caress Alkmene, who lay
+at his feet.
+
+"Well," answered Kretzschmar, grinning, "I do not know whether she was
+alone or not. I only know that, as I waited a little on the corner
+of the street, I saw a gentleman go out, wrapped in a cloak, a tall,
+broad-shouldered gentleman, whom I--"
+
+"Whom you naturally did not recognize," said the king, interrupting him;
+"it was a dark night, and no moon, so that you could not see."
+
+"At your service, your majesty, I could see no one; I would only add
+that the unknown may have been at Mademoiselle Enke's."
+
+"And he may not have been," cried the king, harshly. "What else did you
+learn?"
+
+"Nothing at all worth speaking about. Only one thing I must say, the
+lackey Schultz is a prattling fool, and speaks very disrespectfully."
+
+"Did he talk with you?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty, with me."
+
+"Then he knows well that it would be welcome. What did he say?"
+
+"He related to me a love-affair with the crown princess of Prussia
+eleven years since. He plumes himself upon the crown princess having
+stroked his beard."
+
+"Be quiet!" commanded the king, harshly. "If Schultz was drunk, and
+talked in a crazy manner, how dare you repeat it to me? Let this happen
+again, and I will dismiss you my service. Remember it, you ass!"
+
+"Pardon me, your majesty, I thought I must relate all that I hear of
+importance."
+
+"That was not important, and not worth the trouble of talking about.
+If Schultz is such a drunken fellow I did not know it, and he is to be
+pitied. You can go now; I give you a day to make your farewells to your
+friends, and to console them with the hope of meeting you again. Put
+every thing in order that concerns you. If you have debts, pay them."
+
+"I have no money to pay them, your majesty," sighed Kretzschmar.
+
+The king stepped to the iron coffer, of which no one possessed the
+key but himself, and looking within said: "You cannot have much money
+to-day, as the drawer which contains the money for the gossips and spies
+is quite empty, and you have had a good share of it. Five guldens remain
+for you."
+
+"Alas! your majesty, it is too little; twenty-five guldens would not pay
+my debts."
+
+The king closed the drawer, saying: "Judas only received twenty
+shillings for betraying his Master. Twenty-five is quite enough for
+Kretzschmar for betraying his comrade."
+
+Kretzschmar slunk away. The king fixed his great eyes upon him until the
+door closed. "Man is a miserable race; for gold he would sell his own
+brother--would sell his own soul, if there could be found a purchaser,"
+he murmured. "Why do you growl, Alkmene, why trouble yourself,
+mademoiselle? I was not speaking of your honorable race; only of the
+pitiful race of men. Be quiet, my little dog, be quiet; I love you, and
+you are my dear little dog," he said, pressing her caressingly to his
+breast.
+
+The footman Schultz appeared to announce the equerry Von Schwerin.
+
+"Bid him enter," nodded the king.
+
+Von Schwerin entered, with a smiling face. "Have you accomplished what I
+confided to you?"
+
+With a profound bow Von Schwerin drew a roll of paper from his
+breast-pocket, and handed it to the king, saying, "I am so fortunate as
+to have accomplished your commands."
+
+"Will Count Schmettau give up the villa at once?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty, the new occupant could take possession to-day,
+with all the furniture and house arrangements, for seven thousand five
+hundred dollars. Here is the bill of sale, only the purchaser's name is
+wanting. I have obeyed your majesty's commands, and acted as if I were
+the purchaser."
+
+"Schmettau is not such a stupid fellow as to believe that, for he knows
+that you cannot keep your money. You say the contract is ready, only the
+signature of the purchaser is wanting and the money?"
+
+"Pardon me, your majesty, the name of the present possessor has not been
+inserted. I did not presume to write it without the unmistakable command
+of your majesty."
+
+"Do you know the name?" asked the king.
+
+"I do not, but the generosity of my most gracious king and master allows
+me to divine it, and my heart is filled to bursting with thankfulness
+and joy. My whole life will not be long enough to prove to you my
+gratitude."
+
+"What for?" asked the king, staring at Von Schwerin, quite surprised;
+"you cannot suppose that I have purchased the villa for you?"
+
+Herr von Schwerin smilingly nodded. "I think so, your majesty."
+
+Frederick laughed aloud. "Schwerin, you are an uncommonly cunning
+fellow. You see the grass grow before the seed is sown. This time you
+deceived yourself--the grass has not grown. What good would it do
+you? You do not need grass, but thistles, and they do not grow at
+Charlottenburg. Take the contract to my minister Von Herzberg, whom you
+will find in the audience-room, and then walk a little upon the terrace
+to enjoy the fresh air. I promised you the privilege. First go to Von
+Herzberg, and say to him to send the Prince of Prussia to me immediately
+upon his arrival. Why do you wear so mournful a face all of a sudden?
+Can it be possible that my chief equerry has so lowered himself as to go
+among the mechanics, and build chateaux en Espagne? You know such houses
+are not suitable for our northern climate, and fall down. Now, do what I
+told you, and then go upon the terrace."
+
+The equerry glided away with sorrowful mien to Von Herzberg, and
+communicated the king's commands to him.
+
+"You have made a good purchase," said the minister, in a friendly
+manner. "His majesty will be very much pleased with the extraordinary
+zeal and the great dexterity with which you have arranged the matter.
+Count Schmettau has just been here, and he could not sufficiently
+commend your zeal and prudence, and the sympathy and interest which you
+showed in the smallest matters, as if the purchase were for yourself.
+The count wishes to reserve two oil paintings in the saloon, which are
+an heirloom from his father. We cannot but let the count retain them."
+
+"Arrange it as you will," answered the equerry, fretfully; "I have
+nothing more to do with the affair--it lies in your hands."
+
+"But where are you going in such haste?" said Herzberg, as the equerry
+bowed hastily, and strode through the room toward the door.
+
+"His majesty commanded me to go upon the terrace," he replied, morosely.
+
+Herr von Herzberg looked after him surprised. "Something must have
+occurred, otherwise he is very tractable. Ah! there comes the prince. I
+will go to meet him, and communicate to him the king's command--I will
+await your royal highness here until you have spoken with the king, if
+you will have the grace to seek me."
+
+"I will return by all means, if you will have the kindness to wait for
+me," replied the prince, smiling, and hastened to the interview with his
+royal uncle.
+
+Frederick was seated in his arm-chair, upon his lap Alkmene, when the
+crown prince entered. "Bon jour, mon neveu! pardon me," said he, with a
+friendly nod, "that I remain seated, and do not rise to greet the future
+King of Prussia."
+
+"Sire, Heaven grant that many years pass before I succeed to the title
+which my great and unapproachable predecessor has borne with so much
+wisdom and fame, that one can well doubt the being able to emulate
+his example, and must content himself to live under the shadow of his
+intelligence and fame!"
+
+Frederick slowly shook his head. "The people will not be satisfied, nor
+the coffers filled by fame. No one can live upon the great deeds of his
+ancestors; he must be self-sustaining, not seek for the laurels in the
+past, but upon the naked field of the future, which lies before him. Sow
+the seeds of future laurels; fame troubles me but little, and I advise
+you, my nephew, not to rely upon it. One must begin anew each day, and
+make fresh efforts for vigorous deeds."
+
+The crown prince bowed, and seated himself upon the tabouret, which the
+king, with a slight wave of the hand, signified to him.
+
+"I will endeavor, sire, to follow the elevated sentiments of your
+majesty, that I may not dishonor my great teacher."
+
+"You express yourself too modestly, my nephew, and I know that you think
+otherwise; that your fiery spirit will never be contented to dishonor
+yourself or your ancestors. Fate is favorable to you, and offers the
+opportunity to confirm, what I judge you to be--a brave soldier, a
+skilful captain--in a word, a true Hohenzollern! I would make you
+a commander of a division of my army, and I shall follow every
+movement--every operation, with lively interest."
+
+A ray of joy beamed upon the face of the prince; Frederick saw it with
+satisfaction, and his heart warmed toward his nephew. "He has at least
+courage," he said to himself; "he is no sybarite to quail before the
+rough life of war."
+
+"Will your majesty so greatly favor me as to accord me an independent
+position in the campaign?"
+
+"I offer you what belongs to you as a general and heir to the throne. On
+me it devolves to direct the plans and operations, and on you to
+detail them and direct the execution. I shall rejoice to see that you
+understand the profession of war practically as well as theoretically.
+Therefore, this war is so far welcome, that it will give my crown prince
+an opportunity to win his first laurels, and adorn the brow which, until
+now, has been crowned with myrtle."
+
+"Your majesty, I--"
+
+"Be silent--I do not reproach you, my nephew; I understand human
+nature, and the seductive arts of women. It is time that you seek other
+ornament--myrtle becomes a youthful brow, and the helmet adorns the man
+crowned with laurels."
+
+"I have long desired it, and I am deeply grateful to your majesty for
+the opportunity to win it. This campaign is good fortune to me."
+
+"War is never a good fortune," sighed the king--"for the people it is
+great misfortune. I would willingly have avoided it for their sake.
+But the arrogance and the passion for territorial aggrandizement of
+the young Emperor of Germany forces me to it. I dare not, and will not
+suffer Austria to enrich herself through foreign inheritance, ignoring
+the legitimate title of a German prince. Bavaria must remain an
+independent, free German principality, under a sovereign prince. It
+is inevitably necessary for the balance of power. I cannot yield,
+therefore, as a German prince, that Austria increase her power in an
+illegitimate manner, but I will cast my good sword in the scales, that
+the balance is heavier on the side upon which depends the existence
+of Germany, that she may not be tossed in the air by Austria's weight.
+These are my views and reasons for the war upon which I now enter with
+reluctance. When the greatness and equilibrium of Germany are at stake,
+no German prince should dare hesitate. Austria has already cost Germany
+much blood, and will cause her to shed still more. Believe it, my
+nephew, and guard yourself against Austria's ambition for territorial
+aggrandizement. You see, I am like all old people, always teaching
+youth, while we have much to learn ourselves. We are all pupils, and our
+deeds are ever imperfect."
+
+"Your majesty cannot believe that of himself. The sage of Sans-Souci is
+the type, the master, and teacher of all Europe."
+
+"My son," replied the king, "the great men of antiquity recognized it as
+the acme of wisdom, that they must be mindful that 'in the midst of life
+we are in death.' At the gay festivities and the luxurious feasts
+they were interrupted in the merry song and voluptuous dance, with the
+warning: 'Remember, O man, that thou must die!' Let us profit by their
+wisdom! I have startled you from the banquet of life, and I doubt not
+that many singers and dancers will be enraged that I should put an end
+to the feasts of roses and the merry dance in such an abominable manner.
+It would be an evil omen in our warlike undertaking, if the rosy lips of
+the beauties should breathe curses to follow us; therefore, we must
+try to conciliate them, and leave a good souvenir in their hearts. You
+smile, my prince, and you think it vain trouble for an old fellow; that
+I cannot win the favor of the ladies under any pretension; so you must
+undertake for me the reconciliation and the hush-money."
+
+"I am prepared for any thing which your majesty imposes upon me; only
+I would defend myself against the interpretation which you give my
+smile--and--"
+
+"Which was very near the truth," interrupted the king. "I have called
+you from the banquet of life, and I have interrupted the dancers,
+crowned with roses in the midst of their dance, which they would finish
+before you. I pray you, then, indemnify the enraged beauties, and let us
+go forth with a quiet conscience, that we in no respect are indebted to
+any one."
+
+"Oh, sire, it will be impossible for me to go to the field with a quiet
+conscience upon this point."
+
+"Permit me to extend to you the means to do so," replied the king,
+graciously smiling. "Take this little box; it contains a wonderful
+elixir, proof against all the infirmities and weaknesses of humanity,
+of one of the greatest philosophers of human nature. By the right use
+of it, tears of sorrow are changed to tears of joy, and a Megerea into a
+smiling angel, as by enchantment. Before going to the war, I pray you
+to prove the miraculous elixir upon one of the angry beauties. For, I
+repeat, we must put our house in order, and leave no debts behind us.
+The debts of gratitude must not be forgotten. Let us say 'Gesegnete
+Mahlzeit' when we have been well feasted."
+
+The king handed the prince a little box, of beautiful workmanship, and
+smiled as he rather vehemently thanked him, and at the same time tried
+to open it.
+
+"I remark with pleasure that you have a tolerably innocent heart, as
+you betray curiosity about the wonderful elixir. I supposed men, to say
+nothing of beautiful women, had long since instructed you that it was
+the only balsam for all the evils of life. My minister Herzberg will
+give you the key of the little box, and advise you as to the right use
+of the elixir. Farewell, with the hope of soon seeing you again, my
+nephew. I start for Silesia to-morrow, as I must travel slower than you
+young people. You will follow me in a few days. Again farewell!"
+
+Extending his meagre white hand to the prince, he withdrew it quickly,
+as the latter was about to press it to his lips, and motioned to the
+door kindly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. THE GOLDEN RAIN.
+
+
+Prince Frederick William betook himself, with painful curiosity, to the
+audience-room, where the Minister von Herzberg awaited him.
+
+"Your excellency," said he, "his majesty refers me to you, for the true
+explanation of the miraculous elixir contained in this little box, and
+about which I am naturally very curious, and beg of you the key to open
+it."
+
+"Will your royal highness," said the minister, smiling, "have the
+grace to grant me a few moments' conversation, which may serve as an
+explanation, for his majesty has not in reality given me a key?"
+
+"I pray you, my dear excellency, to explain it," cried the prince,
+impatiently.
+
+"Pardon me if I probe the tenderest feelings of your heart, my prince.
+The command of the king imposes this duty upon me. He has known for a
+long time of your connection with a certain person, to whom you are more
+devoted than to your wife."
+
+"Say, rather, his majesty has twice forced me to marry two unloved
+and unknown princesses, when he knew that I already loved this certain
+person. Twice I have married, because the command of his king is law to
+the crown prince of Prussia. For my love and my sympathy there is no law
+but that of my own heart, and this alone have I followed."
+
+"His majesty does not reproach you. The philosopher of Sans-Souci
+understands human nature, and he feels indulgent toward your weakness.
+He is quite satisfied that you have chosen this person, as friend and
+favorite, to console yourself for an unhappy marriage. Her low birth is
+a guaranty that she will never mingle in politics, an act which would
+be visited with his majesty's highest displeasure. While his majesty
+permits you to continue this intimacy, and recognizes the existence of
+this woman, he wishes her to be provided for as becomes the mistress of
+a crown prince, and not as the grisette of a gentleman. She should have
+her own house, and the livery of her lord."
+
+"As if it were my fault that this has not already been arranged!" cried
+the prince. "Am I not daily and hourly tormented with poverty, and
+scarcely know how to turn, between necessary expenses and urgent
+creditors? You know well yourself, your excellency, how stingy and
+parsimonious the king is to the crown prince. He scarcely affords me the
+means to support my family in a decent, to say nothing of a princely,
+manner. How dependent we all are, myself, my wife, and my children upon
+the king, whose economy increases, while our wants and expenses also
+increase every year! It is sufficiently sad that I cannot reward those
+who have proved to me during ten years their fidelity and love, but I
+must suffer them to live in dependence and want."
+
+"His majesty understands that, and thinks that as your royal highness
+is to go to the field, and will be exposed, as a brave commander, to the
+uncertain fate of battle, that you should assure the future of all those
+who are dear to you, and arrange a certain competency for them. A good
+opportunity now offers to you. Count Schmettau will sell his villa at
+Charlottenburg, and it would be agreeable to his majesty that you should
+purchase it, and assign it to those dearest to you. In order to give you
+as little trouble as possible, his majesty has had the matter already
+arranged, through his equerry, Count Schmettau, and the purchase can
+be made this very hour. Here is the bill of sale; only the name of the
+present possessor is wanting, the signature of the purchaser, and the
+payment of seven thousand five hundred thalers."
+
+"The names can be quickly written; but, your excellency," cried the
+prince, "where will the money come from?"
+
+"I have just given your royal highness the key to the little box: have
+the goodness to press hard upon the rosette."
+
+The prince touched the spring, the cover flew back--it contained only
+a strip of paper! Upon it was written, in the king's own handwriting,
+"Bill of exchange upon my treasurer. Pay to the order of the Prince of
+Prussia twenty thousand thalers." [Footnote: "Memoirs of the Countess
+Lichtenau," vol.1] The prince's face lighted up with joy. "Oh! the
+king has indeed given me a miraculous elixir, that compensates for all
+misfortunes, heals all infirmities, and is a balsam for all possible
+griefs. I will bring it into use immediately, and sign the bill of
+sale." He signed the paper, and filled with haste the deficiency in
+the contract. "It is done!" he cried, joyfully, "the proprietress,
+Wilhelmine Enke; purchaser, Frederick William of Prussia. Nothing
+remains to be done but to draw upon the king's treasury, and pay Count
+Schmettau."
+
+"Your royal highness is spared even that trouble. Here are twenty rolls,
+and each roll contains one hundred double Fredericks d'or, and, when
+your highness commands it, I will reserve seven rolls and pay Count
+Schmettau; then there remain thirteen for yourself. Here is the
+contract, which you will give in person to the possessor."
+
+"First, I must go to the king," said the prince; "my heart urges me
+to express my gratitude to him, and my deep sense of his goodness and
+tenderness. I feel ashamed without being humbled, like a repentant son,
+who has doubted the generosity and goodness of his father, because he
+has sometimes severely reprimanded his faults. I must go at once to the
+king."
+
+"He will not receive your royal highness," answered Herzberg, smiling.
+"You know our sovereign, who so fully deserves our admiration and love.
+His favor and goodness beam upon us all, and he desires neither thanks
+nor acknowledgment. He performs his noble, glorious deeds in a harsh
+manner, that he may relieve the recipients of his bounty from the burden
+of gratitude; and often when he is the most morose and harsh, is he at
+heart the most gracious and affectionate. You and yours have experienced
+it to-day. He appeared to be angry, and enveloped himself in the toga
+of a severe judge of morals; but, under this toga, there beat the kind,
+noble heart of a friend and father, who punishes with rigorous words,
+and forgives with generous, benevolent deeds."
+
+"For this I must thank him--he must listen to me!" cried the prince.
+
+"He will be angry if your royal highness forces him to receive thanks
+when he would avoid them. He has expressly commanded me to entreat you
+never to allude to the affair, and never to speak of it to others, as it
+would not be agreeable to his majesty to have the family affairs known
+to the world. You would best please his majesty by following exactly his
+wishes, and when you meet him never allude to it. As I have said, this
+is the express wish and command of the king."
+
+"Which I must naturally follow," sighed the prince, "although I
+acknowledge that it is unpleasant to me to receive so much kindness from
+him without at least returning my most heart-felt thanks. Say to the
+king, that I am deeply, sensibly moved with his tender sympathy and
+generosity. And now I will hasten to Wilhelmine Enke; but, it occurs to
+me that it may not be possible; the king has made her a prisoner in her
+own house."
+
+"Do not trouble yourself about that. If it is your royal highness's
+pleasure, drive at once to Charlottenburg. You will find the new
+possessor there and she will relate to you her interview with the mayor
+of Berlin."
+
+"Oh! I shall drive at once to the villa. I am curious to learn what Von
+Kircheisen has told her."
+
+"I imagined that you would be, and ordered your carriage here, as you
+could not well ride upon horseback with the heavy rolls of gold; and
+if it is your pleasure, I will order the footman to place the box, into
+which I have put them, in the carriage."
+
+"No, no; I beg you to let me carry them," cried the prince, seizing the
+box with both hands. "It is truly heavy, but an agreeable burden, and if
+it lames my arm I shall bethink myself of the miraculous elixir, which
+will give me courage and strength. Farewell, your excellency; I shall
+hurry on to Charlottenburg!"
+
+The prince hastened to his carriage, and ordered the coachman to drive
+at full speed to the villa. Thanks to this order, he reached it in about
+an hour. No one was there to receive him upon his arrival. The hall was
+empty, and the rooms were closed. The prince passed on to the opposite
+end, where there was a door open, and stood upon a balcony, with steps
+descending into the garden, which, with its flower-beds, grass-plots,
+shrubbery, and the tall trees, formed a lovely background. The birds
+were singing, the trees rustled, and variegated butterflies fluttered
+over the odorous flowers. Upon the turf, forming a beautiful group, was
+Wilhelmine playing with her daughter, and the nurse with the little boy
+upon her lap, who laughingly stretched out his arms toward his mother.
+
+"Wilhelmine--Wilhelmine!" cried the prince.
+
+With a cry of joy she answered, and flew toward the house. "You have
+come at last, my beloved lord," she cried, almost breathless, mounting
+the steps. "I beg you to tell me what all this means? I am dying of
+curiosity!"
+
+"I also," said the prince, smiling. "Have the goodness to lead me to one
+of the rooms, that I may set down this box."
+
+"What does that hobgoblin contain, that it prevents your embracing me?"
+
+"Do not ask, but hasten to assist me to relieve myself of the burden."
+They entered the house, and Wilhelmine opened the wide folding-doors,
+which led into a very tastefully-furnished room. Frederick William set
+the box upon the marble table, and sank upon a divan with Wilhelmine in
+his arms. "First of all, tell me what Von Kircheisen said to you?"
+
+"He commanded me, in the name of the king, to give up my dwelling at
+Berlin and at Potsdam, and to avoid showing myself in public at both
+places, that those who had the right to the love and fidelity of the
+Prince of Prussia should not be annoyed at the sight of me; that I
+should live retired, and leave the appointed residence as little as
+possible, for then the king would be inclined to ignore my existence,
+and take no further notice of me. But, if I attempted to play a role,
+his majesty would take good care that it should be forever played out."
+
+"Those were harsh, cruel words," sighed Frederick William.
+
+"Harsh, cruel words," repeated Wilhelmine, sorrowfully. "They pierced my
+soul, and I shrieked at last from agony. Herr von Kircheisen was quite
+frightened, and begged me to excuse him, that he must thus speak to me,
+but the king had commanded him to repeat his very words. The carriage
+was at the door, he said, ready to convey me to my future dwelling, for
+I must immediately leave Berlin, and the king be informed of my setting
+out. The coachman received the order, and here I am, without knowing
+what I am to do, or whether I shall remain here."
+
+"Yes, Wilhelmine, you are to remain here; at last we have a home, and
+a resting-place for our love and our children. This house is yours--you
+are mistress here, and you must welcome me as your guest."
+
+"This house is mine!" she cried, joyfully. "Did you give it to me? How
+generous, and how extravagant you are! Protect me with the gift of your
+love, as if you were Jupiter and I Danae!"
+
+"A beautiful picture, and, that it may be a reality, I will play the
+role of Jupiter and open the box."
+
+He took a roll of gold, and let it fall upon Wilhelmine's head, her
+beautiful shoulders, and her arms, like a shower of gold. She shrieked
+and laughed, and sought to gather up the pieces which rolled ringing
+around her upon the floor. The prince seized another roll, and another
+still, till she was flooded with the glistening pieces. Then another and
+another, until Wilhelmine, laughing, screamed for grace, and sprang up,
+the gold rolling around her like teasing goblins.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING.
+
+
+The Minister Herzberg had, in the mean time, an interview with the king,
+informing him of the concluded purchase of the Schmettau villa, and of
+the emotion and gratitude of the crown prince at his royal munificence.
+
+"That affair is arranged, then," said Frederick. "If Fate wills that the
+prince should not return from this campaign, then this certain person
+and the two poor worms are provided for, who are destined to wander
+through the world nameless and fatherless."
+
+"Let us hope that fate will not deal so harshly with the prince, or
+bring such sorrow upon your majesty."
+
+"My dear sir, Fate is a hard-hearted creature, the tears of mankind are
+of no more importance to her than the raindrops falling from the roof.
+She strides with gigantic power over men, crushing them all in dust--the
+great as well as the little--the king as well as the beggar. For my
+part I yield to Fate without a murmur. Politicians and warriors are mere
+puppets in the hands of Providence. We act without knowing why, for we
+are unknowingly the tools of an invisible hand. Often the result of our
+actions is the reverse of our hopes! Let all things take their course,
+as it best pleases God, and let us not think to master Fate. [Footnote:
+The king's words.--"Posthumous Works," vol. x., p. 256.] That is my
+creed, Herzberg, and if I do not return from this infamous campaign, you
+will know that I have yielded to Fate without murmuring. You understand
+my wishes in all things; the current affairs of government should go
+on regularly. If any thing extraordinary occurs, let me be informed at
+once. Is there any news, Herzberg?"
+
+"Nothing worth recounting, sire, except that the young Duke of Weimar is
+in town."
+
+"I know it; he has announced himself. I cannot speak with him. I have
+asked my brother Henry to arrange the conditions under which he will
+allow us to enlist men for my army in his duchy. I hope he will be
+reasonable, and not prevent it. That is no news that the Duke of Weimar
+has arrived!"
+
+"Not only the duke has arrived, but he has brought his dear friend with
+him whom the people in Saxe-Weimar say makes the good and bad weather."
+
+"Who is the weather-maker?"
+
+"Your majesty, this weather-maker is the author of 'The Sorrows of Young
+Werther,' Johann Wolfgang Goethe, who for four years has aroused
+the hearts and excited the imaginations of all Germany. If I am not
+deceived, a great future opens for this poet, and he will be a star of
+the first magnitude in the sky of German literature. I believe it would
+be well worth the trouble for your majesty to see him."
+
+"Do not trouble me with your German literature, and your stars of
+the first magnitude! We must acknowledge our poverty with humility;
+belles-lettres have never achieved success upon our soil. Moreover, this
+star of the first magnitude--this Herr Goethe--I remember him well; I
+wish to know nothing of him. He has quite turned the heads of all the
+love-sick fools with his 'Sorrows of Young Werther.' You cannot count
+that a merit. The youth of Germany were sufficiently enamoured, without
+the love-whining romances of Herr Goethe to pour oil on the fire."
+
+"Pardon me, sire, that I should presume to differ from you; but this
+book which your majesty condemns has not only produced a furor in
+Germany, but throughout Europe--throughout the world even. That which
+public opinion sustains in such a marked manner cannot be wholly
+unworthy. 'Vox populi, vox dei,' is a true maxim in all ages."
+
+"It is not true!" cried the king. "The old Roman maxim is not applicable
+to our effeminate, degraded people. Nowadays, whoever flatters the
+people and glorifies their weaknesses, is a good fellow, and he is
+extolled to the skies. Public opinion calls him a genius and a Messiah.
+Away with your nonsense! The 'Werther' of Herr Goethe has wrought no
+good; it has made the healthy sick, and has not restored invalids to
+health. Since its appearance a mad love-fever has seized all the young
+people, and silly sentimentalities and flirtations have become the
+fashion. These modern Werthers behave as if love were a tarantula, with
+the bite of which they must become mad, to be considered model young
+men. They groan and sigh, take moonlight walks, but they have no courage
+in their souls, and will never make good soldiers. This is the fault of
+Herr Werther, and his abominable lamentations. It is a miserable work,
+and not worth the trouble of talking about, for no earnest man will read
+it!"
+
+"Pardon me, sire; your majesty has graciously permitted me to enter
+the lists as knight and champion of German literature, and sometimes
+to defend the German Muse, who stands unnoticed and unknown under the
+shadow of your throne; while the French lady, with her brilliant attire
+and painted cheeks, is always welcomed. I beg your majesty to believe
+that, although this romance may have done some harm, it has, on the
+other hand, done infinite service. A great and immortal merit cannot be
+denied to it."
+
+"What merit?" demanded the king, slowly taking a pinch of snuff; "I am
+very curious to know what merit that crazy, love-sick book has."
+
+"Sire, it has the great merit to have enriched the German literature
+with a work whose masterly language alone raises it above every thing
+heretofore produced by a German author. It has emancipated our country's
+literature from its clumsy, awkward childhood, and presented it as an
+ardent, inspired youth, ready for combat, upon the lips of whom the gods
+have placed the right word to express every feeling and every thought--a
+youth who is capable of probing the depths of the human heart."
+
+"I wish all this might have remained in the depths," cried Frederick,
+annoyed. "You have defended the German Muse before; but you remember
+that I am incorrigible. You cannot persuade me that bungling is
+master-work. It is not the poverty of the mind, but the fault of the
+language, which is not capable of expressing with brevity and precision.
+For how could any one translate Tacitus into German without adding
+a mass of words and phrases? In French it is not necessary; one can
+express himself with brevity, and to the point."
+
+"Sire, I shall permit myself to prove to you that the brevity of Tacitus
+can be imitated in the German language. I will translate a part of
+Tacitus, to give your majesty a proof."
+
+"I will take you at your word! And I will answer you in a treatise upon
+German literature, its short-comings, and the means for its improvement.
+[Footnote: This treatise appeared during the Bavarian war of succession,
+in the winter of 1779] Until then, a truce. I insist upon it--good
+German authors are entirely wanting to us Germans. They may appear a
+long time after I have joined Voltaire and Algarotti in the Elysian
+Fields." [Footnote: The king's words.--See "Posthumous Works," vol. II.,
+p. 293.]
+
+"They are already here," cried Herzberg, zealously. "We have, for
+example, Lessing, who has written two dramas, of which every nation
+might be proud--'Minna von Barnhelm, and Emilia Calotti.'"
+
+"I know nothing of them," said the king, with indifference. "I have
+never heard of your Lessing."
+
+"Your majesty, this wonderful comedy, 'Minna von Barnhelm,' was written
+for your majesty's glorification."
+
+"The more the reason why I should not read it! A German comedy! That
+must be fine stuff for the German theatre, the most miserable of all.
+In Germany, Melpomene has untutored admirers, some walking on stilts,
+others crawling in the mire, from the altars of the goddess. The Germans
+will ever be repulsed, as they are rebels to her laws, and understand
+not the art to move and interest the heart."
+
+"But, sire, you have never deigned to become acquainted with 'Minna von
+Barnhelm' nor 'Emilia Calotti.'"
+
+"Well, well, Herzberg, do not be so furious; you are a lover of German
+literature, and some allowance must be made for those who are in love.
+You will not persuade me to read your things which you call German
+comedies and tragedies. I will take good care; my teeth are not strong
+enough to grind such hard bits. Now do not be angry, Herzberg. The
+first leisure hours that I have in this campaign I shall employ on my
+treatise."
+
+"And the first leisure hours that I have," growled the minister, "I
+shall employ to translate a portion of Tacitus into our beautiful German
+language, to send to your majesty."
+
+"You are incorrigible," said Frederick, smiling. "We shall see, and
+until then let us keep the peace, Herzberg. When one is about to go
+to war, it is well to be at peace with one's conscience and with his
+friends; so let us be good friends."
+
+"Your majesty, your graciousness and kindness make me truly ashamed,"
+said the minister, feelingly. "I beg pardon a thousand times, if I have
+allowed myself to be carried away with unbecoming violence in my zeal
+for our poor neglected German literature."
+
+"I approve of your zeal, and it pleases me that you are a faithful
+knight, sans peur et sans reproche. I do not ascribe its poverty to the
+German nation, who have as much spirit and genius as any nation, the
+mental development of which has been retarded by outward circumstances,
+which prevented her rising to an equality with her neighbors. We
+shall one day have classical writers, and every one will read them
+to cultivate himself. Our neighbors will learn German, and it will
+be spoken with pleasure at courts; and it can well happen that our
+language, when perfectly formed, will spread throughout Europe. We
+shall have our German classics also." [Footnote: The king's words--see
+"Posthumous Works," vol. III.]
+
+The king smiled, well pleased, as he observed by stolen glances the
+noble, intelligent face of Herzberg brighten, and the gloomy clouds
+dispersed which had overshadowed it.
+
+"Now, is it not true that you are again contented?" said the king,
+graciously.
+
+"I am delighted with the prophecy for the German language, your majesty;
+and may I add something?"
+
+"It will weigh on your heart if you do not tell it," said the king.
+
+"I prophesy that this Goethe will one day belong to the classic authors,
+and therefore I would beg once more of your majesty to grant him a
+gracious look, and invite him to your presence. If you find no pleasure
+in 'The Sorrows of Werther,' Goethe has created other beautiful works.
+He is the author of the tragedy of 'Stella.'"
+
+"That sentimental, immoral piece, which we forbid the representation of
+in Berlin, because it portrays a fellow who made love to two women at
+once, playing the double role of lover to his wife and his paramour,
+while he had a grown-up daughter! It is an immoral piece, which excites
+the tear-glands, and ends as 'Werther,' by the hero blowing his brains
+out. It is directed against all morals, and against marriage; therefore
+it was forbidden." [Footnote: The tragedy of "Stella" was represented in
+Berlin with great applause, and denounced by the king as immoral, in
+the year 1776, and the further representation forbidden.--See Plumke,
+"History of the Berlin Theatres."]
+
+"But, sire, Herr Goethe has not only written 'Stella,' but 'Clavigo'
+also, which--"
+
+"Which he has copied exactly from the 'Memoires de Beaumarchais,'"
+interrupted the king. "That is not a German, but a French production."
+
+"Allow me to cite a genuine German production, which Johann Wolfgang
+Goethe has written. I mean the drama 'Gotz von Berlichingen.'"
+
+"Stop!--it is sufficient. I do not wish to hear any thing more," cried
+the king, indignant, and rising. "It is bad enough that such pieces
+should appear upon the German stage as this 'Gotz von Berlichingen.'
+They are nothing less than abominable imitations of the bad English
+pieces of Shakespeare! The pit applauds them, and demands with
+enthusiasm these very disgusting platitudes. [Footnote: The king's own
+words.--See "Posthumous Works," vol. iii.] Do not be angry again, you
+must have patience with the old boy! I shall rejoice heartily if this
+Herr Goethe becomes a classic writer one day, as you say. I shall not
+live to witness it. I only see the embryo where you see the full-grown
+author. We will talk further about it when we meet in the Elysian
+Fields; then we will see, when you present this Herr Johann Wolfgang
+Goethe, as a German classic writer, to Homer, Horace, Virgil, and
+Corneille, if they do not turn their backs upon him. Now adieu,
+Herzberg! So soon as circumstances permit, I shall send for you to go to
+Silesia, and then you can give me your German translation of Tacitus."
+
+The king nodded in a friendly manner to his minister, and slowly walked
+back and forth, while he took leave and withdrew. After a few moments he
+rang, and the summons was immediately answered by the footman Schultz.
+
+The king fixed upon him one of those searching glances of his fiery
+eyes which confounded and confused the footman. He remained standing and
+embarrassed, with downcast look.
+
+"What are you standing there for?" asked the king. "Did I not ring for
+you, and do you not know what you have to do?" Frederick continued to
+regard him, with flashing eyes, which increased the lackey's confusion.
+
+He forgot entirely that the summons was for his majesty's lunch, and all
+that he had to do was to open the door to the adjoining room, where it
+stood already prepared.
+
+Frederick waited a moment, but the footman still stood irresolute, when
+his majesty indicated to him to approach.
+
+He approached, staggering under the puzzling glance of his master.
+
+"Oh! I see what it is," said Frederick, shrugging his shoulders; "you
+are drunk again, as you often are, and--"
+
+"Your majesty," cried Schultz, amazed, "I drunk!"
+
+"Silence!--will you be bold enough to reason with me? I say that you are
+drunk, and I want no drunken footmen. They must be well-behaved, sober
+fellows, who keep their ears open and their mouths shut--who are
+neither drunkards nor gossips, and do not take for truth what they have
+experienced in their drunken fits. I do not want such fellows as you are
+at all; you are only fit food for cannon, and for that you shall serve.
+Go to General Alvensleben, and present yourself to enter the guards. You
+are lucky to go to the field at once; to-morrow you will set off. Say
+to the general that I sent you, and that you are to enter as a common
+soldier."
+
+"But, your majesty, I do not know what I have done," cried Schultz,
+whiningly. "I really am not drunk. I--"
+
+"Silence!" thundered the king. "Do as I command you! Go to General
+Alvensleben, and present yourself to enter the guards at once. Away with
+you! I do not need drunken, gossiping footmen in my service. Away with
+you!"
+
+The footman slunk slowly away, his head hanging down, with difficulty
+restraining the tears which stood in large drops in his eyes.
+
+The king followed him with his glance, which softened and grew gentler
+from sympathy. "I pity him, the poor fellow! but I must teach him a
+lesson. I want no gossips around me. He need only wear the uniform two
+weeks or so, that will bring him to reason. Then I will pardon him,
+and receive him into my service again. He is a good-natured fellow, and
+would not betray any one as Kretzschmar betrayed him."
+
+The king stepped to the window to look at the gentleman who was eagerly
+engaged in conversation with the castellan of Sans-Souci. At this
+instant the footman entered with a sealed note for the king. "From his
+royal highness Prince Henry," said he.
+
+"Who brought it?"
+
+"The gentleman who speaks with the castellan upon the terrace. I wait
+your majesty's commands."
+
+"Wait, then." The note ran thus: "Your majesty, my dearly-beloved
+brother: The bearer, Johann Wolfgang Goethe, one of the literati, and
+a poet, and at this time secretary of legation to the duchy of
+Saxe-Weimar, is a great favorite of the duke's, our nephew. I met him
+returning from the parade in company with the duke, who expressed to me
+the strong desire his secretary had to visit the celebrated house of
+the great philosopher of Sans-Souci, and see the room once occupied by
+Voltaire. I could not well refuse, and therefore address these few lines
+to your majesty before returning to Berlin with the duke, who will dine
+with me, accompanied by his secretary. I am your majesty's most humble
+servant and brother, HENRY."
+
+"Tell the castellan that I grant him permission to show the house and
+park to the stranger; he shall take care not to come in my way, so that
+I shall be obliged to meet him. Tell this aside, that you may not be
+overheard. Hasten, for they have already been waiting some time."
+
+The king walked again to the window, and, hidden by the curtain, peeped
+out. "So, this is Herr Goethe, is it? What assurance! There he stands,
+sketching the house. What wonderful eyes the man has! With what a proud,
+confident manner he looks around! What a brow! Truly he is a handsome
+fellow, and Herzberg may be right after all. That brow betokens
+thought, and from those eyes there flashes a divine light. But he looks
+overbearing and proud. Now, I am doubly pleased that I refused Herzberg
+to have any thing to do with him. Such presumptive geniuses must be
+rather kept back; then they feel their power, and strive to bring
+themselves forward. Yes! I believe that man has a future. He looks like
+the youthful god Apollo, who may have condescended to descend to earth!
+He shall not entrap me with his beautiful head. If he is the man who
+makes good and bad weather in Weimar, he shall learn that rain and
+sunshine at Sans-Souci do not depend upon him; that the sun and clouds
+here do not care whether Herr Goethe is in the world or not. For
+sunshine and storm we depend upon the Great Weather-Maker, to whom we
+must all bow; evil and good days in Prussia shall emanate from me,
+so long as I live. Sometimes I succeed in causing a little sunshine,"
+continued the king. "I believe the Prince of Prussia has to-day felt the
+happy influence of the sun's rays; and while it is dull and lonely at
+Sans-Souei, may it be brighter and more cheerful at Charlottenburg!
+Eh bien! old boy," said the king, stopping, "you are playing the
+sentimental, and eulogizing your loneliness. Well, well, do not
+complain.--Oh, come to me, spirits of my friends, and hold converse with
+me! Voltaire, D'Argens, and my beloved Lord-Marshal Keith! Come to me,
+departed souls, with the memories of happier days, and hover with thy
+cheering, sunny influence over the wrinkled brow of old Fritz!"
+
+While the lonely king implored the spirits of his friends, to brighten
+with their presence the quiet, gloomy apartment at Sans-Souci, the sun
+shone in full splendor at Charlottenburg--the sunshine beaming from the
+munificence of Frederick. Wilhelmine Enke had passed the whole day in
+admiring the beautiful and tasteful arrangement of the villa. Every
+piece of furniture, every ornament, she examined attentively--all filled
+her with delight. The prince, who accompanied her from room to room,
+listened to her outbursts of pleasure, rejoicing.
+
+"I wish that I could often prepare such happiness for you, dearest, for
+my heart is twice gladdened to see your beaming face."
+
+"Reflected from your own. You are my good genius upon earth. You have
+caused the poor, neglected child to become the rich and happy woman. To
+you I owe this home, this foot of earth, which I can call my own. Here
+blossom the flowers for me--here I am mistress, and those who enter must
+come as my guests, and honor me. All this I owe to you."
+
+"Not to me," said the prince, smiling; "I only gave to you what was
+given to me! To the king belong your thanks. Harsh in words, but gentle
+in deeds, he has given you this refuge, freeing you from the slavery of
+poverty, from the sorrow of being homeless. But tell it not, Wilhelmine.
+The king would be angry if it were known that he not only tolerated but
+showed great generosity to you. It is a secret that I ought not even
+to disclose to you. I could not receive your thanks, for I have not
+deserved them. From the king comes your good fortune, not from me. The
+day will come when I can requite you, when the poor crown prince becomes
+the rich king. On that day the golden rain shall again shower upon
+you, never to cease, and, vying with the shower of gold, the brightest
+sunbeams play continually around you. As king, I will reward your
+fidelity and love, which you have proved to the poor crown prince, with
+splendor, power, and riches. Until then rejoice with the little that his
+grace has accorded you, and await the much that love will one day bring
+you. Farewell, Wilhelmine, the evening sets in, and I must forth to
+Potsdam. The king would never pardon me if I did not pass the last
+evening with my wife in the circle of my family. Farewell!"
+
+He embraced her tenderly, and Wilhelmine accompanied the prince to the
+carriage, and returned to survey anew the beautiful rooms which were now
+her own possession. An unspeakable, unknown feeling was roused in her,
+and voices, which she had never heard, spoke to her from the depths
+of her heart. "You are no longer a despised, homeless creature," they
+whispered. "You have a home, a foot of earth to call your own. Make
+yourself a name, that you may be of consequence in the world. You are
+clever and beautiful, and with your prudence and beauty you can win
+a glorious future! Remember the Marquise de Pompadour, neglected and
+scorned as you, until a king loved her, and she became the wife of a
+king, and all France bowed down to her. Even the Empress Maria Theresa
+honored her with her notice, and called her cousin. I am also the
+favorite of a future king, and I will also become the queen of my king!"
+
+Wilhelmine had remained standing in the midst of the great drawing-room,
+which she was passing through, listening to these seductive voices, to
+these strange pictures of the future. In her imagination she saw herself
+in this room surrounded with splendor and magnificence, and sparkling
+with gems. She saw around her elegantly-attired ladies and gentlemen,
+in brilliant uniforms, glittering with orders; saw every-where smiling
+faces, and respectful manners. She saw all eyes turned to her, and heard
+only flattering words, which resounded for her from every lip--for her,
+once so despised and scorned! "It shall be, yes, it shall be," cried
+she aloud. "I will be the queen of my king! I will become the Prussian
+Marquise de Pompadour; that I swear by the heads of my children, by--"
+
+"Rather swear by thy own beautiful head, Wilhelmine," said a voice
+behind her. Startled, she turned, and beheld the tall figure of a man,
+wrapped in a long cloak, who stood in the open door.
+
+"Who are you?" she cried, amazed. "How dare you enter here?"
+
+The figure closed the door, without answering, and, slowly approaching
+Wilhelmine, fixed his black eyes upon her with a searching gaze.
+She tried to summon help, but the words died on her lips; her cheeks
+blanched with terror, and, as if rooted to the floor, she stood with
+outstretched arms imploring the approaching form. The figure smiled,
+but there was something commanding in its manner, and in the fiery eyes,
+which rested upon her. When quite near her, it raised its right hand
+with an impatient movement. Immediately her arms fell at her side, her
+cheeks glowed, and a bright smile lighted up her face. Then it lifted
+the three-cornered, gold-bordered hat which shaded its face, nodding to
+her.
+
+"Do you recognize me, Wilhelmine?" he asked, in a sweet, melodious
+voice.
+
+"Yes," she answered, her eyes still fixed upon him. "You are Cagliostro,
+the great ruler and magician."
+
+"Where did we meet?"
+
+"I remember; it was in Paris, at the house of the governor of the
+Bastile, M. Delaunay. You caused me to read in a glass the future--a
+bright, glorious future. I was surrounded with splendor and
+magnificence. I saw myself glittering with gems; a king knelt at my
+feet. I was encircled by richly-attired courtiers, who bowed before me,
+and honored me, whispering: 'We salute you, O beautiful countess; be
+gracious to us, exalted princess!' It sounded like heavenly music, and I
+shouted with delight."
+
+"Was that all?" said Cagliostro, solemnly, "that the crystal showed
+you."
+
+Shuddering, she murmured: "The splendor, glory, and power vanished,
+and all was changed to a fearful picture. I saw myself in a plain, dark
+dress, in a deserted, lonely room, with iron-barred windows, and a small
+iron door closed in the dreary white walls--it was a prison! And I heard
+whispered around me: 'Woe to you, fallen and dethroned one! You have
+wasted away the days of your splendor, submit in patience to the days
+of your shame and humiliation.' I could not endure to behold it, and
+screamed with terror, fainting."
+
+"You demanded to see the future, and I showed it to you," said
+Cagliostro, earnestly. "Though I let the light shine into your soul,
+still it was dark within; you pursued the way of unbelief, and desired
+not to walk in the way of knowledge. I sent messengers twice to you to
+lead you in the right path, and you sent them laughing away. Recall what
+I told you in Paris. I will it!"
+
+"I remember, master; you said that in the most important days of my life
+you would come to me, and extend to me a helping hand: if I seized
+it, the first picture would be fulfilled; if I refused it, the prison
+awaited me!"
+
+"I have kept my word: to-day is an eventful day in your life; you have
+risen from want and degradation--you have mounted the first rounds of
+the ladder of your greatness and power. You are the mistress of this
+house." "How did you know it?" asked Wilhelmine, astonished. With a
+pitying smile he answered: "I know every thing that I will, and I
+see many things that I would willingly close my eyes upon. I see your
+future, and my soul pities you, unhappy one; you are lost if you do not
+seize the hand extended to you. You see not the abyss which opens before
+you, and you will fall bleeding and with broken limbs."
+
+"Mercy, mercy!" she groaned--"stretch out your hand and protect me."
+Wilhelmine sank as if crushed to the earth. Cagliostro bent over her,
+and stroked her cold, pale face, breathing upon her the hot breath of
+his lips. "I will pity you--I will protect you. Rise, my daughter!" He
+assisted her to rise, and imprinted a passionate kiss upon her hand.
+"From this hour I count you as one of mine," he said; "you shall be
+received into the holy band of spirits! You shall be consecrated, and
+enter the Inner Temple. Are you prepared?" "I am, master," she humbly
+replied.
+
+"To-morrow the Temple brothers will open the temple of bliss to you. You
+shall hear, see, and be silent." "I will see, hear, and be silent," she
+murmured.
+
+"When evening sets in, send away your servants," commanded Cagliostro.
+"Let the doors stand open; they shall be guarded, that no one may enter
+but the summoned. Art thou prepared?"
+
+"I am, master!"
+
+"Withdraw now to your room, Wilhelmine, and elevate your thoughts in
+devotion and contrition, and await the future. Kneel, my daughter,
+kneel!" She sank upon her knees. "Bless me, master, bless me!" "I bless
+you!"
+
+She felt a hot, burning sensation upon her forehead, and suddenly a
+bright light shone in the obscure room. Wilhelmine screamed, and covered
+her eyes. When she ventured to look up, only soft moonlight
+penetrated from the high window into the apartment, and she was alone.
+"To-morrow--to-morrow, at midnight!" she murmured, shuddering, and
+casting a timid look around.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK II. ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES
+
+
+CHAPTER X. GOETHE IN BERLIN.
+
+
+"I wish I only knew whether it were a man, or whether the god Apollo
+has really appeared to me in human form," sighed Conrector Moritz, as he
+paced his room--a strange, gloomy apartment, quite in keeping with the
+singular occupant--gray walls, with Greek apothegms inscribed upon them
+in large letters--dirty windows, pasted over with strips of paper;
+high, open book-shelves, containing several hundred books, some neatly
+arranged, others thrown together in confusion. In the midst of a chaos
+of books and papers stood a colossal bust of the Apollo-Belvedere upon
+a table near the window, the whiteness and beauty of which were in
+singular contrast, to the dust and disorder which surrounded it.
+
+At the back of the room was an open wardrobe, filled with gay-colored
+garments. A beautiful carpet of brilliant colors covered the middle of
+the dirty floor, and upon this paced to and fro the strange occupant
+of this strange room, Philip Charles Moritz, conrector of the college
+attached to the Gray Monastery. There was no trace of the bearing and
+demeanor which distinguished him at the parade at Potsdam yesterday--no
+trace of the young elegant, dressed in the latest fashion. To-day he
+wore a white garment, of no particular style, tied at the neck with a
+red ribbon (full sleeves, buttoned at the wrist with lace-cuffs); and,
+falling from the shoulders in scanty folds to just below the knees, it
+displayed his bare legs, and his feet shod with red sandals.
+
+His hair was unpowdered, and not tied in a cue, according to the
+fashion, but hung in its natural brown color, flowing quite loosely,
+merely confined by a red ribbon wound in among his curls, and hanging
+down in short bows at each temple like the frontlet of the old Romans.
+Thus, in this singular costume, belonging half to old Adam, and half
+to the old Romans, Philip Moritz walked back and forth upon the carpet,
+ruminating upon the beaming beauty of the stranger whose acquaintance
+he had so recently made, and whom he could not banish from his thoughts.
+"What wicked demon induced me to go to Potsdam yesterday?" said he to
+himself. "I who hate mankind, and believe that they are all of vulgar,
+ordinary material, yield to the longing for society, and am driven again
+into the world."
+
+A loud knocking at the door interrupted this soliloquy, and the door
+opened at the commanding "Come in!"
+
+"It is he, it is Apollo," cried Moritz, joyfully. "Come in, sir, come
+in--I have awaited you with the most ardent desire."
+
+Moritz rushed to the young gentleman, who had just closed the door,
+and whose beautiful, proud face lighted up with a smile at the singular
+apparition before him. "Pardon me, I disturb you, sir; you were about to
+make your toilet. Permit me to return after you have dressed."
+
+"You are mistaken," cried Moritz, eagerly. "You find me in my usual
+home-dress--I like my ease and freedom, and I am of opinion that mankind
+will never be happy and contented until they return to their natural
+state, wearing no more clothing, but glorying in the beauty which
+bountiful Nature has bestowed upon her most loved and chosen subjects."
+
+"Sir," cried the other, laughing, "then benevolent Nature should
+adapt her climate accordingly, and relieve her dear creatures from the
+inclination to take cold."
+
+"You may be right," said Moritz, earnestly, "but we will not quarrel
+about it. Will you not keep your promise to reveal to me your name?"
+
+"Tell me your own once more. Tell me if this youth, whom I see before
+me in this ideal dress, is the same modest young man whom I met at
+the parade yesterday, and who presented himself as Philip Moritz?
+Then please to inform me whether you are the Philip Moritz who wrote a
+spirited and cordial letter to Johann Wolfgang Goethe some years since
+about the tragedy of 'Stella,' the representation of which had been
+forbidden at that time?"
+
+"Yes, I am the same Philip Moritz, who wrote to the poet Goethe to prove
+to him, with the most heart-felt sympathy, that we are not all such
+stupid fellows in Berlin as Nicolai, who pronounced the tragedy 'Stella'
+immoral; that it is only, as Goethe himself called it, 'a play for
+lovers.'"
+
+"And will you not be kind enough to tell me what response the poet made
+to your amiable letter?"
+
+"Proud and amiable at the same time, most gracefully he answered me, but
+not with words. He sent me his tragedy 'Stella' bound in rose-colored
+satin. [Footnote: "Goethe in Berlin,"--Sketches from his life at the
+anniversary of his one hundredth birthday.] See there! it is before the
+bust of Apollo on my writing-table, where it has lain for three years!"
+
+"What did he write to you at the same time?"
+
+"Nothing--why should he? Was not the book sufficient answer?"
+
+"Did he write nothing? Permit me to say to you that Goethe behaved like
+a brute and an ass to you!"
+
+"Sir," cried Moritz, angrily, "I forbid you to speak of my favorite in
+so unbecoming a manner in my room!"
+
+"Sir," cried the other, "you dare not forbid me. I insist upon it that
+that man is sometimes a brute and an ass! I can penitently acknowledge
+it to you, dear Moritz, for I am Johann Wolfgang Goethe himself!"
+
+"You, you are Goethe!" shouted Moritz, as he seized him with both hands,
+drawing him toward the window, and gazing at him with the greatest
+enthusiasm and delight. "Yes, yes," he shouted, "you are either Apollo
+or Goethe! The gods are not so stupid as to return to this miserable
+world, so you must be Goethe. No other man would dare to sport such a
+godlike face as you do, you favorite of the gods!"
+
+He then loosed his hold upon the smiling poet, and sprang to the
+writing-table. "Listen, Apollo," he cried, with wild joy. "Goethe is
+here, thy dear son is here! Hurrah! long live Goethe!"
+
+He took the rose-colored little book, and shouting tossed it to the
+ceiling, and sprang about like a mad bacchant, and finally threw himself
+upon the carpet, rolling over and over like a frolicksome, good-natured
+child upon its nurse's lap.
+
+Goethe laughed aloud. "What are you doing, dear Moritz? What does this
+mean?" he asked.
+
+Moritz stopped a moment, looking up to Goethe with a face beaming with
+joy. "I cannot better express my happiness. Language is too feeble--too
+poor!"
+
+"If that is the case, then I will join you," said Goethe, throwing
+himself upon the carpet, rolling and tumbling about. [Footnote: This
+scene which I relate, and which Teichman also mentions in his "Leaves
+of Memory of Goethe in Berlin," has been often related to me by Ludwig
+Tieck exactly in this manner. Teichman believes it was the poet Burman.
+But I remember distinctly that Ludwig Tieck told me that it was the
+eccentric savant, Philip Moritz, with whom Goethe made the acquaintance
+in this original manner.--The Authoress.]
+
+All at once Moritz jumped up without saying a word, rushed to the
+wardrobe, dressed himself in modest attire in a few moments, and
+presented himself to Goethe, who rose from the carpet quite astounded
+at the sudden metamorphosis. Then he seized his three-cornered hat to go
+out, when Goethe held him fast.
+
+"You are not going into the street, sir! You forget that your hair is
+flying about as if unloosed by a divine madness."
+
+"Sir, people are quite accustomed to see me in a strange costume, and
+the most of them think me crazy."
+
+"You are aware that insane people believe that they only are sane, and
+that reasonable people are insane. You will grant me that it is much
+more like a crazy person to strew his hair with flour, and tie it up
+in that ridiculous cue, than to wear it as God made it, uncombed and
+unparted, as I do my beautiful hair, and for which they call me crazy!
+But, for Heaven's sake, where are you going?" asked Goethe, struggling
+to retain him.
+
+"I am going to trumpet through every street in Berlin that the author of
+'Werther,' of 'Clavigo,' of 'Gotz von Berlichingen,' of 'Stella,' of the
+most beautiful poems, is in my humble apartment. I will call in all the
+little poets and savants of Berlin; I will drag Mammler, Nicolai, Engel,
+Spaulding, Gedicke, Plumicke, Karschin, and Burman here. They shall
+all come to see Wolfgang Goethe, and adore him. The insignificant poets
+shall pay homage to thee, the true poet, the favorite of Apollo."
+
+"My dear Moritz, if you leave me for that, I will run away, and you will
+trouble yourself in vain."
+
+"Impossible; you will be my prisoner until I return. I shall lock you
+in, and you cannot escape by the window, as I fortunately live on the
+third story."
+
+"But I shall not wait to be looked in," answered Goethe, slightly
+annoyed. "I came to see you, and if you run away I shall go also, and
+I advise you not to try to prevent me." His voice resounded through the
+apartment, growing louder as he spoke, his cheeks flushed, and his high,
+commanding brow contracted.
+
+"Jupiter Tonans!" cried Moritz, regarding him, "you are truly Jupiter
+Tonans in person, and I bow before you and obey your command. I shall
+remain to worship you, and gaze at you."
+
+"And it may be possible to speak in a reasonable manner to me," said
+Goethe, coaxingly. "Away with sentimentality and odors of incense! We
+are no sybarites, to feed on sweet-meats and cakes; but we are men who
+have a noble aim in view, attained only by a thorny path. Our eyes must
+remain fixed upon the goal, and nothing must divert them from it."
+
+"What is the aim that we should strive for?" asked Moritz, his whole
+being suddenly changing, and his manner expressing the greatest
+depression and sadness.
+
+Goethe smiled. "How can you ask, as if you did not know it yourself.
+Self-knowledge should be our first aim! The ancient philosophers were
+wise to have inscribed over the entrances to their temples, 'Know
+thyself,' in order to remind all approaching, to examine themselves
+before they entered the halls of the gods. Is not the human heart
+equally a temple? only the demons and the gods strive together therein,
+unfortunately. To drive the former out, and give place to the latter,
+should be our aim; and when once purified, and room is given for good
+deeds and great achievements, we shall not rest satisfied simply to
+conquer, but rise with gladness to build altars upon those places which
+we have freed from the demons; for that, we must steadily keep in view
+truth and reality, and not hide them with a black veil, or array them
+in party-colored rags. Our ideas must be clear about the consequences of
+things, that we may not be like those foolish men who drink wine
+every evening and complain of headache every morning, resorting to
+preventives."
+
+Did Goethe know the struggles and dissensions which rent the heart of
+the young man to whom he spoke? Had his searching eyes read the secrets
+which were hidden in that darkened soul? He regarded him as he spoke
+with so much commiseration that Moritz's heart softened under the genial
+influence of sympathy and kindness. A convulsive trembling seized him,
+his cheeks were burning red, and his features expressed the struggle
+within. Suddenly he burst into tears. "I am very, very wretched," he
+sighed, with a voice suffocated by weeping, and sank upon a chair,
+sobbing aloud, and covering his face with his hands.
+
+Goethe approached him, and laid his hand gently upon his shoulder. "Why
+are you so miserable? Is there any human being who can help you?" he
+kindly inquired.
+
+"Yes," sobbed Moritz; "there are those who could, but they will not, and
+I am lost. I stand upon the brink of a precipice, with Insanity staring
+at me, grinning and showing her teeth. I know it, but cannot retreat. I
+wear the mask of madness to conceal my careworn face. Your divine eyes
+could not be deceived. You have not mistaken the caricature for the true
+face. You have penetrated beneath the gay tatters, and have seen the
+misery which sought to hide itself there."
+
+"I saw it, and I bewailed it, as a friend pities a friend whom he would
+willingly aid if he only knew how to do it."
+
+"No one can help me," sighed Moritz, shaking his head mournfully. "I am
+lost, irremediably lost!"
+
+"No one is lost who will save himself. He who is wrecked by a storm and
+tossed upon the raging sea, ought to be upon the watch for a plank by
+which he can save himself. He must keep his eyes open, and not let his
+arms hang idly; for if he allows himself to be swallowed up he becomes
+a self-murderer, who, like Erostratus, destroyed the holy temple, and
+gained eternal fame through eternal shame."
+
+"What are you saying?" cried Moritz, "you, the author of 'Werther,' of
+that immortal work which has drunk the tears of the whole world, and has
+become the Holy Testament for unhappy souls!"
+
+"Rather say for lovers," replied Goethe, "and add also those troubled
+spirits who think themselves poetical when they whine and howl; who cry
+over misfortune if Fate denies them the toy which their vanity, their
+ambition, or their amorousness, had chosen. Do not burden me with what
+I am not guilty of; do not say that wine is a poison, because it is
+not good for the sick. It is intended for well people; it animates and
+inspires them to fresh vigor. Now please to consider yourself well, and
+not ill."
+
+"I am ill, indeed I am ill," sighed Moritz. "Oh! continue to regard me
+with those eyes, which shine like stars into my benighted soul. I feel
+like one who has long wandered through the desert, his feet burnt with
+the sand, his hair scorched with the sun, and, exhausted with hunger and
+thirst, feels death approaching. Suddenly he discovers a green
+oasis, and a being with outstretched arms calling to him with a soft,
+angel-like voice: 'Come, save thyself in my arms; feel that thou art not
+alone in the desert, for I am with thee, and will sustain thee!'"
+
+"And I say it to you from the bottom of my heart," said Goethe,
+affectionately. "Yes, here is one, who is only too happy to aid you, who
+can sympathize with every sorrow, because he has himself felt it in his
+own breast, who may even say of himself, like Ovid: 'Nothing human is
+strange to me.' If I can aid you, say so, and I will willingly do it."
+
+"No, you cannot," murmured Moritz.
+
+"At least confide your grief to me; that is an alleviation."
+
+"Oh, how kind and generous you are!" Moritz said, pressing the hand of
+his new-made friend to his bosom. "How much good it does me to listen to
+you, and look at your beautiful face! I believed myself steeled against
+every thing that could happen to mortals; that the fool which I would
+be had killed within me the higher man. I was almost proud to have
+succeeded in deceiving men; that they mistook my grotesque mask for my
+real face; that they point the finger at me, and laugh, saying to each
+other: 'That is a fool, an original, whom Nature herself has chosen as
+a kind of court fool to society.' No one has understood the cry of
+distress of my soul. Those who laughed at the comical fellow by day,
+little dreamed of the anguish and misery in which he sighed away the
+night."
+
+"You not only wrong yourself, but you wrong mankind," said Goethe,
+kindly. "In the world, and in literature, you bear an honored name;
+every one of education is familiar with your excellent work on 'Prosody
+of the German Language'--has read also your spirited Journey to England.
+You have no right to ask that one should separate the kernel from
+the shell in hastily passing by. If you surround yourself with a wall
+bedaubed with caricatures, you cannot expect that people will look
+behind what seems an entrance to a puppet-show, to find holy temples,
+blooming gardens, or a church-yard filled with graves."
+
+"That is just what I resemble," said Moritz, with a melancholy air.
+"From the depths of my soul it seems so. Nothing but buried hopes,
+murdered ideals, and wishes trodden under foot. From childhood I have
+exerted myself against circumstances; I have striven my whole life--a
+pledge of my being against unpropitious Fate. Although the son of a
+poor tradesman, Nature had given me a thirst for knowledge, a love for
+science and art. On account of it I passed for a stupid idler in the
+family, who would not contribute to his own support. Occupation with
+books was accounted idleness and laziness by my father. I was driven to
+work with blows and ill-treatment; and, that I might the sooner equal
+my father as a good shoemaker, I was bound to the stool near his own.
+During the long, fearful days I was forced to sit and draw the pitched,
+offensive thread through the leather, and when my arms were lame, and
+sank weary at my side, then I was invigorated to renewed exertion with
+blows. Finally, with the courage of despair, I fled from this life of
+torture. Unacquainted with the world, and inexperienced, I hoped for the
+sympathy of men, but in vain. No one would relieve or assist me! Days
+and weeks long I have wandered around in the forest adjoining our little
+village, and lived like the animals, upon roots and herbs. Yet I was
+happy! I had taken with me in my flight two books which I had received
+as prizes, in the happy days that my father permitted me to go to the
+Latin school. The decision of the teacher that I was created for a
+scholar, so terrified my father, that he took me from the school, to
+turn the embryo savant, who would be good for nothing, into a shoemaker,
+who might earn his bread. My two darling books remained to me. In the
+forest solitude I read Ovid and Virgil until I had memorized them, and
+recited them aloud, in pathetic tones, for my own amusement. To-day I
+recall those weeks in the forest stillness as the happiest, purest, and
+most beautiful of my life."
+
+"And they undoubtedly are," said Goethe, kindly. "The return to Nature
+is the return to one's self. Who will be an able, vigorous man and
+remain so, must, above all things, live in and with Nature."
+
+"But oh! this happy life did not long continue," sighed Moritz. "My
+father discovered my retreat, and came with sheriffs and bailiffs to
+seize me like a criminal--like a wild animal. With my hands bound, I was
+brought back in broad day, amid the jeers of street boys. Permit me to
+pass in silence the degradation, the torture which followed. I became a
+burden to myself, and longed for death. The ill-treatment of my father
+finally revived my courage to run away the second time. I went to a
+large town near by, and decided to earn my living rather than return
+to my father. To fulfil the prophecy of my teacher was my ambition. The
+privations that I endured, the life I led, I will not recount to you.
+I performed the most menial service, and worked months like a beast of
+burden. For want of a shelter, I slept in deserted yards and tumble-down
+houses. Upon a piece of bread and a drink of water I lived, saving,
+with miserly greediness, the money which I earned as messenger or
+day-laborer. At the end of a year, I had earned sufficient to buy an old
+suit of clothes at a second-hand clothing-store, and present myself to
+the director of the Gymnasium, imploring him to receive me as pupil.
+Bitterly weeping, I opened my heart to him, and disclosed the torture
+of my sad life as a child, and begged him to give me the opportunity
+to educate myself. He repulsed me with scorn, and threatened to give me
+over to the police, as a runaway, as a vagabond, and beggar. 'I am no
+beggar!' I cried, vehemently, 'I will be under obligation to no one. I
+have money to pay for two years in advance, and during this time I shall
+be able to earn sufficient to pay for the succeeding two years.' This
+softened the anger of the crabbed director; he was friendly and kind,
+and promised me his assistance."
+
+"Poor boy!" sighed Goethe. "So young, and yet forced to learn that there
+is a power to which not only kings and princes, but mind must bow; to
+which science and art have submitted, as to their Maecenas! This power
+opened the doors of the Gymnasium to you."
+
+"It was even thus. The director took pity upon me, and permitted me to
+enter upon my studies at once; he did more, he assured my future. Oh, he
+was a humane and kind man! When he learned that I possessed nothing but
+the little sum to which the drops of blood of a year's toil still clung,
+then--"
+
+"He returned it to you," interrupted Goethe, kindly.
+
+"No, he offered me board, lodging, and clothing, during my course at the
+Gymnasium."
+
+"That was well," cried Goethe. "Tell me the name of this honorable man,
+that I may meet him and extend to him my hand."
+
+A troubled smile spread over Philip's face. "Permit me for the time
+being to conceal the name," he replied. "I received the generous
+proposal gratefully, and asked, deeply moved, if there were no services
+which I could return for so much kindness and generosity. It proved that
+there were, and the director made them known to me. He was unmarried,
+hence the necessity of men's service. I should be society for him--be a
+companion, in fact; I should do what every grateful son would do for
+his father--help him dress, keep his room in order, and prepare his
+breakfast."
+
+"That meant that you should be his servant!" cried Goethe, indignant.
+
+"Only in the morning," replied Moritz, smiling. "Evenings and nights
+I should have the honor to be his amanuensis; I should look over the
+studies of the scholars, and correct their exercises; and when I had
+made sufficient progress, it should be my duty to give two hours to
+different classes, and I should read aloud or play cards with the
+director on leisure evenings. Besides, I was obliged to promise never
+to leave the house without his permission; never to speak to, or hold
+intercourse with, any one outside the hours of instruction. All these
+conditions were written down, and signed by both parties, as if a
+business contract."
+
+"A transaction by which a human soul was bargained for!" thundered
+Goethe. "Reveal to me, now, the name of this trader of souls, that I may
+expose him to public shame!"
+
+"He died a year since," replied Moritz, softened. "God summoned him
+to judgment. When the physician announced to him that the cancer was
+incurable, when he felt death approaching, he sent for me, and begged
+my forgiveness, with tears and deep contrition. I forgave him, so let
+me cease to recall the life I passed with him. By the sweat of my brow I
+was compelled to serve him; for seven long years I was his slave. I sold
+myself for the sake of knowledge, I was consoled by progress. I was the
+servant, companion, jester, and slave of my tyrant, but I was also the
+disciple, the priest of learning. In my own room my chains fell off. In
+the lonely night-watches I communed with the great, the immortal spirits
+of Horace, Virgil, and even the proud Caesar, and the divine Homer.
+Those solitary but happy hours of the night are never to be forgotten,
+never to be portrayed; they refreshed me for the trials of the day, and
+enabled me to endure them! At the close of seven years I was prepared to
+enter the university, and the bargain between my master and myself was
+also at an end. Freed from my tyrant, I bent my steps toward Frankfort
+University, to feel my liberty enchained anew. For seven years I had
+been the slave of the director; now I became the slave of poverty,
+forced to labor to live! Oh, I cannot recall those scenes! Suffice it to
+say, that during one year I had no fixed abode, never tasted warm
+food. But it is passed--I have conquered! After years of struggle, of
+exertion, of silent misery, only relieved by my stolen hours of blissful
+study, I gained my reward. I was free! My examination passed, I was
+honored with the degrees of Doctor of Philosophy and Master of Arts.
+After many intervening events, I was appointed conrector of the college
+attached to the Gray Monastery, which position now supports me."
+
+"God be praised, I breathe freely!" answered Goethe, with one of those
+sunny smiles which, in a moment of joyful excitement, lighted up his
+face. "I feel like one shipwrecked, who has, at last, reached a safe
+harbor. I rejoice in your rescue as if it were my own. Now you are
+safe. You have reached the port, and in the quiet happiness of your
+own library you will win new laurels. Why, then, still dispirited and
+unhappy? The past, with its sorrows and humiliations, is forgotten, the
+present is satisfactory, and the future is full of hope for you."
+
+"Full of misery is the present," cried Philip, angrily, "and filled with
+despair I glance at the future. You do not see it with your divine
+eyes, you do not perceive it, poet with the sympathetic soul. You, too,
+thought that Philip Moritz had only a head for the sciences, and forgot
+that he had a heart to love. I tell you that he has a warm, affectionate
+heart, torn with grief and all the tortures of jealousy; that
+disappointed happiness maddens him. I was not created to be happy, and
+my whole being longs for happiness. Oh! I would willingly give my life
+for one day by the side of the one I love."
+
+"Do not trifle," said Goethe, angrily. "He who has striven and struggled
+as you have, dare not offer, for any woman, however beautiful and
+seductive, to yield his life, which has been destined to a higher aim
+than mere success in love. Perhaps you think that God has infused a
+ray of His intelligence into the mind of man, created him immortal,
+and breathed upon him with His world-creating breath only, to make him
+happy, and find that happiness in love! No! my friend, God has given to
+man like faculties with Himself, and inspired him, that he might be a
+worthy representative of Him upon the earth; that he should prove, in
+his life, that he is not only the blossom, but the fruit also, of
+God's creation. Love is to man the perfume of his existence. She may
+intoxicate him for a while, may inspire him to poetical effusions,
+to great deeds, even; but he should hesitate to let her become his
+mistress, to let her be the tyrant of his existence. If she would
+enchain him, he must tear himself away, even if he tear out his own
+heart. Man possesses that which is more ennobling than mere feeling; he
+has intellect--soul."
+
+"Ah!" cried Moritz, "it is easy to see that you have never loved madly,
+despairingly. You have never seen the woman whom you adore, and who
+perhaps reciprocates your passion, forced to marry another."
+
+A shadow flitted over Goethe's brow, and the flashing brilliancy of his
+eyes was changed to gloomy sadness. Gently, but quickly, he laid his
+hand upon Moritz's shoulder, saying: "In this hour, when two souls are
+revealed to each other, will I acknowledge to you that which I have
+never spoken of. I, too, love a woman, who loves me, and yet can never
+be mine, for she is married to another. I love this sweet woman as I
+have never loved a mortal being. For years my existence has belonged to
+her, she has been the centre of all my thoughts. It would seem to me
+as if the earth were without a sun, heaven without a God, if she should
+vanish from life. I even bless the torture which her prudery, her
+alternate coldness and friendliness cause me, as it comes from her, from
+the highest bliss of feeling. This passion has swept through my soul, as
+if uniting in itself all my youthful loves, till, like a torrent, ever
+renewing itself, ever moving onward, it has become the highway of my
+future. Upon this stream floats the bark laden with all my happiness,
+fame, and poetry. The palaces which my fancy creates rise upon its
+shore. Every zephyr, however slight, makes me tremble. Every cloud which
+overshadows the brow of my beloved, sweeps like a tempest over my own.
+I live upon her smile. A kind word falling from her lips makes me
+happy for days; and when she turns away from me with coldness and
+indifference, I feel like one driven about as Orestes by the Furies."
+
+"You really are in love!" cried Moritz. "I will take back what I have
+said. You, the chosen of the gods, know all the human heart can suffer,
+even unhappy love."
+
+Almost angry, and with hesitation, Goethe answered him: "I do not call
+this passion of mine an unhappy one, for in the very perception of it
+lies happiness. We are only wretched when we lose self-control. To this
+point Love shall never lead me. She yields me the highest delight, but
+she shall never bring me to self-destruction. Grief for her may, like
+a destructive whirlwind, crush every blossom of my heart; but she shall
+never destroy me. The man, the poet, must stand higher than the lover;
+for where the latter is about to yield to despair, the former will rise,
+and, with the defiance of Prometheus, challenge the gods to recognize
+the godlike similitude, that man can rise superior to sorrow, never
+despairing, never cursing Fate if all the rosy dreams of youth are not
+realities, but with upturned gaze stride over the waste places of life,
+consoling himself with the thought that only magnanimous souls can
+suffer and conquer magnanimously. Vanquished grief brings us nearer to
+the immortal, and gradually bears us from this vale of sorrow up to
+the brighter heights, nearer to God--the earth with her petty confusion
+lying like a worthless tool at our feet!"
+
+"It is heavenly to be able to say that, and divine to perceive it,"
+cried Moritz, bursting into tears. "The miseries of life chain me to
+the dust, and do not permit me to mount to the heights which a hero like
+Goethe reaches victorious. It is indeed sublime to conquer one's self,
+and be willing to resign the happiness which flees us. But see how weak
+I am--I cannot do it! I can never give up the one I love. It seems as if
+I could move heaven and earth to conquer at last, and that I must die if
+I do not succeed--die like Werther."
+
+Goethe's eyes flashed with anger, and with heightened color he
+exclaimed: "You all repeat the same litany--do not make me answerable
+for all your weaknesses, and blame poor Werther for the creations of
+your own imagination. I, who am the author of Werther, am free from this
+abominable sentimentality. Why cannot others be, who only read what I
+have conceived? But pardon my violence," he continued, with a milder
+voice and gentler manner. "Never did an author create a work which
+brought him at the same time so great fame and bitter reproach as this
+work has brought to me. 'The Sorrows of Young Werther' have indeed been
+transformed into the sorrows of young Goethe, and I even fear that old
+Goethe will have to suffer for it. I have spoken to you as a friend to
+a friend: cherish my words, take them to heart, and arise from the dust;
+shake off the self-strewn ashes from your head. Enter again as a
+brave champion the combat of life--summon to your aid cunning, power,
+prudence, and audacity, to conquer your love. Whether you succeed
+or not, then you aim at the greatest of battles--that of mind over
+matter--then remember my farewell words. From the power which binds all
+men he frees himself who conquers himself.--Farewell! If ever you need
+the encouragement of a friend, if ever a sympathizing soul is necessary
+to you, come to Weimar; sympathy and appreciation shall never fail you
+there."
+
+"Oh! I will surely go," answered Moritz, deeply moved, and pressing
+heartily Goethe's offered hand.
+
+"One thing more I have to say to you: Live much with Nature; accustom
+yourself to regard the sparrow, the flower, or the stone, as worthy of
+your attention as the wonderful phoenix or the monuments of the ancients
+with their illegible inscriptions. To walk with Nature is balsam for
+a weary soul; gently touched by her soft hands, the recovery is most
+rapid. I have experienced it, and do experience it daily. Now, once
+more, farewell; in the true sense of the word fare-thee-well! I wish
+that I could help you in other ways than by mere kind words. It pains me
+indeed that I can render you no other aid or hope. You alone can do what
+none other can do for you.--Farewell!"
+
+He turned, and motioning to Moritz not to follow him, almost flew down
+the stairs into the street. Drawing a long breath, he stood leaning
+against the door, gazing at the crowd--at the busy passers-by--some
+merrily chatting with their companions, others with earnest mien and in
+busy haste. No one seemed to care for him, no one looked at him. If
+by chance they glanced at him, Johann Wolfgang Goethe was of no more
+consequence to them than any other honest citizen in a neighboring
+doorway.
+
+Without perhaps acknowledging it to himself, Goethe was a little vexed
+that no one observed him; that the weather-maker from Weimar, who was
+accustomed to be greeted there, and everywhere, indeed, with smiles and
+bows, should here in Berlin be only an ordinary mortal--a stranger among
+strangers. "I would not live here," said he, as he walked slowly down
+the street. "What are men in great cities but grains of sand, now blown
+together and then asunder? There is no individuality, one is only a
+unit in the mass! But it is well occasionally to look into such a
+kaleidoscope, and admire the play of colors, which I have done, and
+with a glad heart I will now fly home to all my friends--to you, beloved
+one--to you, Charlotte!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE.
+
+
+Wilhelmine Enke had passed the day in great anxiety and excitement, and
+not even the distraction of her new possession had been able to calm the
+beating of her heart or allay her fears. Prince Frederick William had
+arrived early in the morning, to bid her farewell, as he was to march
+in the course of the day with his regiments from Potsdam. With the
+tenderest assurances of love he took leave of Wilhelmine, and with tears
+kissed his two children, pressing them to his heart. As he was about
+to enter his carriage he returned to the house to embrace his weeping
+mistress, and reassure her of his fidelity, and make her promise him
+again and again that she would remain true to him, and never love
+another.
+
+It was not alone the farewell to her beloved prince which caused
+Wilhelmine such anxiety and made her so restless. Like a dark cloud the
+remembrance of Cagliostro's mysterious appearance arose in her mind,
+overshadowing her every hour more and more, filling her soul with
+terror. In vain did she seek refuge near her children, trying to cheer
+and forget herself in their innocent amusement--one moment running about
+the garden with them, then returning to the house to reexamine it. Her
+thoughts would revert to Cagliostro, and the solemnities which were to
+take place at her house that night. The thought terrified her that at
+nightfall she was obliged to send away all her servants, and not even be
+permitted to lock herself in the lonely, deserted house. For the great
+magician had commanded her to let the doors of her house stand open; he
+would place sentinels at every entrance, and none but the elect would be
+allowed to enter. Wilhelmine had not the courage to resist this command.
+As evening approached, she sent the cook, with other servants, to her
+apartment at Berlin, ordering them to pack her furniture and other
+effects, and send them by a hired wagon to Charlottenburg the following
+morning. An hour previous to this she had sent the nurse and two
+children to Potsdam with a similar commission, ordering them to
+return early the next day. Alone she now awaited with feverish anxiety
+Cagliostro's appearance. Again and again she wandered through the
+silent, deserted rooms frightened at the sound of her own footsteps, and
+peering into each room as if an assassin or robber were lurking there.
+She had many enemies--many there were who cursed her, and, alas! none
+loved her--she was friendless, save the prince, who was far away. The
+tears which the princess had shed on her account weighed like a heavy
+burden upon her heart, burning into her very soul in this hour of
+lonely, sad retrospection. She tried in vain to excuse herself, in the
+fact that she had loved the prince before his marriage; that she had
+sacrificed herself to him through affection, and that she was not
+entitled to become his wife, as she was not born under the canopy of a
+throne.
+
+From the depths of her conscience there again rose the tearful, sad face
+of the princess, accusing her as an adulteress--as a sinner before God
+and man! Terrified, she cried: "I have truly loved him, and I do still
+love him; this is my excuse and my justification. She is not to be
+pitied who can walk openly by the side of her husband, enjoying the
+respect and sympathy of all to whom homage is paid, and who, one
+day, will be queen! I am the only one, I alone! I stand in the shade,
+despised and scorned, avoided and shunned by every one. Those who
+recognize me, do so with a mocking smile, and when I pass by they
+contemptuously shrug their shoulders and say to one another, 'That
+was Enke, the mistress of the Prince of Prussia!' All this shall be
+changed," she cried aloud; "I will not always be despised and degraded!
+I will be revenged on my crushed and scorned youth! I will have rank and
+name, honor and position, that I will--yes, that I will, indeed!"
+
+Wilhelmine wandered on through the silent rooms, all brilliantly
+illuminated, a precaution she had taken before dismissing her servants.
+The bright light was a consolation to her, and, at least, she could not
+be attacked by surprise, but see her enemy, and escape. "I was a fool,"
+she murmured, "to grant Cagliostro this reception to-night. I know
+that he is a charlatan! There are no prophets or wizards! Yet, well I
+remember, though a stranger to me, in Paris, how truthfully he brought
+before me my past life; with what marvellous exactness he revealed to me
+secrets known only to my Maker and myself. Cagliostro must be a wizard,
+then, or a prophet; he has wonderful power over me also, and reads
+my most secret thoughts. He will assist me to rise from my shame
+and degradation to an honored position. I shall become a rich and
+influential woman! I will confide in him, never doubting him--for he is
+my master and savior! Away with fear! He has said that the house should
+be guarded, and it will be! Onward then, Wilhelmine, without fear!"
+
+She hastened to the large drawing-room, in order to see the effect of
+the numerous wax-lights in the superb chandeliers of rock crystal.
+The great folding-doors resisted all her efforts to open them. "Who
+is there?" cried a loud, threatening voice. Trembling and with beating
+heart Wilhelmine leaned against the door, giddy with fear, when a
+second demand, "Who is there? The watchword! No one can pass without the
+countersign!" roused her, and she stole back on tiptoe to her room. "He
+has kept his word, the doors are guarded!" she whispered. "I will go
+and await him in my sitting-room." She stepped quickly forward, when
+suddenly she thought she heard footsteps stealing behind her; turning,
+she beheld two men wrapped in black cloaks, with black masks, stealthily
+creeping after her. Wilhelmine shrieked with terror, tore open the
+door, rushed across the next room into her own boudoir. As she entered a
+glance revealed to her that the two masks approached nearer and nearer.
+She bolted the door quickly, sinking to the floor with fright and
+exhaustion. "What are they going to do? Will they force open the door
+and murder me? How foolish, how fearfully foolish to have sent away all
+my servants. Now I understand it: Cagliostro is not only an impostor--a
+charlatan, but he is a thief and an assassin. I have been caught in the
+trap set for me, like a credulous fool! He and his associates will rob
+me and plunder my beautiful villa, but just given to me, and, when they
+have secured all, murder me to escape betrayal." With deep contrition,
+weeping and trembling, Wilhelmine accused herself of her credulity and
+folly. For the first time in her life she was dismayed and cowardly, for
+it was the first time that she had had to tremble for her possessions.
+It was something so new, so unaccustomed to her to possess any thing,
+that it made her anxious, and she feared, as in the fairy tale, that
+it would dissolve into nothing. By degrees her presence of mind and
+equanimity were restored. The stillness was unbroken--and no one forced
+the door, to murder the mistress of this costly possession. Gathering
+courage, she rose softly and stole to the window. The moon shone
+brightly and clearly. The house stood sideways to the street, and
+separated from it, first by thick shrubbery, and then a trellised lawn.
+Whoever would enter, directly turned into a path leading from the street
+into the shrubbery. Just upon this walk, Wilhelmine perceived masked men
+approaching, one by one, as in a procession--slowly, silently moving on,
+until they neared the gate of the trellised square, where two tall, dark
+forms were stationed to demand the countersign, which being given, they
+passed over the lawn into the house.
+
+"I will take courage; he has told me the truth, the house is well
+guarded," murmured Wilhelmine. "None but the summoned can enter; I
+belong to the number, and when it is time Cagliostro will come and
+fetch me. Until then, let me await quietly the result," said she, as
+she stretched herself comfortably upon the sofa, laughing at her former
+cowardice and terror. "No one can enter this room unless I open the
+door, and fortunately there is but one exit. The wizard himself could
+not gain admittance unless the walls should open or the bolt drive hack
+for him. Hark! it strikes eleven, one tedious hour longer to wait. I
+must try to rest a little." She laid her head upon the cushion, closing
+her eyes. The calm and the quiet were refreshing after the excitement
+of the day. Gradually her thoughts became confused--dim pictures floated
+past her mental vision, her breathing became shorter, and she slept. The
+stillness was unbroken, save the clock striking the quarters of every
+hour. Scarcely had the last quarter to midnight sounded, when the window
+was softly opened, and a dark form descended into the room. He listened
+a moment, looking at the sleeping one, who moved not; then extinguished
+the light, creeping toward the door. Wilhelmine slept on. Suddenly it
+seemed to her as if sunbeams blinded her, and she started up from a
+profound sleep. It was indeed no dream. A white form stood before her of
+dazzling brilliancy, as if formed of sun-rays.
+
+"Rise and follow me!" cried a commanding voice. "The Great Kophta
+commands you. Mask yourself, and, as your life is dear to you, do
+not raise it for one instant!" Wilhelmine took the mask, upon which
+flickered a little blue flame, and held it close to her face. "Pray
+in spirit, then follow me." Wilhelmine followed without opposition the
+bright form which moved before her through the dark rooms. She felt as
+if under the influence of a charm; her heart beat violently, her
+feet trembled, but still she felt no more wavering or fear; a joyous
+confidence filled her whole being. With her eyes bent upon the moving
+form of light, she went onward in the obscurity, and entered the great
+drawing-room, where profound darkness and silence reigned. A slight
+murmur, as of those in prayer, fell on her car, and it seemed as if
+numberless black shadows were moving about. "Kneel and pray," whispered
+a voice near her. Her conductor had disappeared, and the gloom of night
+surrounded her. Wilhelmine knelt as she was bidden, but she could not
+pray; breathless expectation and eager curiosity banished all devotion
+and composure. Occasionally was heard, amid the silence and darkness,
+a deep sigh, a suppressed groan, or a shriek, which died away in
+the murmuring of prayer. Suddenly a strange music broke the
+stillness--sharp, piercing tones, resonant as bells, and increasing in
+power, sometimes as rich and full as the peals of an organ, then gentle
+and soft as the murmuring wind, or a sorrow-laden sigh. Then, human
+voices joined the music, swelling it to a wonderful and harmonious
+choir--to an inspired song of aspiration, Of fervent expectation, and
+imploring the coming of him who would bring glory and peace, filling the
+hearts of believers with godliness. The chorus of the Invisibles had not
+ceased, when a strange blue light began to glimmer at the farther end
+of the room; then it shot like a flash through the dark space. As their
+dazzled eyes were again raised, they saw in a kind of halo, in the midst
+of golden clouds, a tall, dazzling figure, in a long, flowing robe,
+sparkling with silver. The lovely bust, the beautiful arms and
+shoulders, were covered with a transparent golden tissue, over which
+fell the long, curly hair to the waist. A glittering band, sparkling
+like stars, was wound through the hair, which surrounded a feminine face
+of surpassing beauty. Perpetual youth glowed upon her full, rosy cheeks;
+bright intelligence beamed from the clear, lofty brow; peace, joy, and
+happiness, were revealed in the smile of the red lips; love and passion
+flashed from the large, brilliant eyes. The choir of the Invisibles now
+sang in jubilant tones: "The eternal Virgin, the everlasting, holy, and
+pure being, greets the erring, blesses those that seek, causing them to
+find, and partake with joy."
+
+The heavenly woman raised her lovely arms, extending them as if for a
+tender embrace. A captivating smile lighted up her features; a fiery
+glance from her beautiful eyes seemed to greet every one, separately,
+to announce to them joy and hope. While they regarded her entranced with
+delight, the golden cloud grew denser, and covered the virgin with her
+luminous veil. It then gradually disappeared, with the golden splendor.
+The chorus of the Invisibles ceased, and the music died away in gentle
+murmurs. Upon the spot where the beaming apparition was visible, there
+now stood a tall priest, in a long, flowing black robe; a pale-blue
+light surrounded him, and rendered the dark outline distinctly visible
+by the clear background. Snow-white hair and a black mask made him
+unrecognizable to every one.
+
+Extending his arms, as if blessing them, the masked one cried: "My
+beloved, the unknown fathers of our Holy Order of Rosicrucians send me
+to you, and command me to salute you with the greeting of life. I am
+to announce to you that the time of revelation approaches, and that the
+sublime mysteries of earth and Nature will soon be revealed to you. As
+the rose is unfolded in her glowing red, which has so long slept in her
+lap of green leaves, you represent the green leaves, and Nature is the
+rose. She will disclose herself to you with all her secrets. In her
+calyx you will find the elixir of life and the secret of gold, if you
+walk in the path of duty; if you exercise unconditional obedience to the
+Invisible Fathers; if you submit yourselves in blind confidence to their
+wisdom; if you swear to abstain from every self-inquiry, and to distrust
+your own understanding." [Footnote: So run the very words in the laws of
+the Rosicrucians.--See "New General German Library," vol. lvi., p. 10.]
+
+"We swear it!" cried solemn voices on all sides.
+
+"Swear, blindly, silent obedience to all that the Invisible Fathers
+shall announce to you through their directors, or shall order you under
+the holy sign of the Rosicrucians by word or writing."
+
+"We swear it!" again resounded in solemn chorus.
+
+"Shame, disgrace, perdition, and destruction, be your curse," thundered
+the priest, "if you deviate in thought even from your oath; if you seek
+to ponder and reflect; if you measure by your own limited reason the
+dispositions and operations of the sublime fathers, to whom Nature has
+revealed herself, and to whom all the secrets of heaven and earth
+are disclosed. Eternal destruction, and all the tortures of hell and
+purgatory, be the portion of the doubting! Damned and proscribed be
+the traitor to the holy order! Listen, ye spirits of the deep, and ye
+spirits of darkness, withdraw from here in terror, ere the anger of
+the Invisible Fathers fall upon you like destroying lightning! Open, ye
+doors, that the wicked may flee, and only the good remain!"
+
+With a wave of the hand the great folding-doors now opened, and a flood
+of light from the adjoining apartment revealed the drawingroom to be
+filled with the dark forms of men enveloped in black cloaks, hoods drawn
+over the heads, and black masks covering the faces--all kneeling close
+together and exactly resembling one another. No one moved, the doors
+closed again, darkness reigning. The priest was no longer visible,
+though continuing to speak: "Only the good and obedient are now
+assembled here, and to them I announce that life is to us, and death
+awaits beyond the door to seize the traitor who would disclose the holy
+secrets of the order. Be faithful, my brothers, and never forget that
+there is no place on the earth where the traitor is secure from the
+avenging sword of the Invisible Fathers. None but the good and obedient
+being here assembled, I now announce to you that the time of revelation
+approaches, and that it will come when you are all zealously endeavoring
+to extend the holy order, and augment the number of brothers. For the
+extension of the order is nothing less than universal happiness. It
+emanates alone from the Invisible Fathers, who link heaven to earth and
+who will open again the lost way to Paradise. The supreme chiefs of our
+holy order are the rulers of all Nature, reposing in God the
+Father. [Footnote: The wording of the laws of the Order of the
+Rosicrucians.--See "New General German Library," vol. M., p. 10. ] They
+are the favorites of God, whom the Trinity thinks worthy of his highest
+confidence and revelation. If you will take part in the revelations of
+God, and witness the disclosing of the hidden treasures of Nature, swear
+that you will be obedient to the holy order, and that you will strive to
+gain new members.
+
+"We swear it," resounded in an inspired chorus through the room. "We
+swear unconditional obedience to the Invisible Fathers. We swear to
+strive with all our means for the extension of the holy order.
+
+"Unbelief, free-thinking, and self-knowledge are of the devil, who
+steals abroad, to turn men from God. The pride of reason seeks to
+misguide men, and lead them away from God and the secrets of Nature. The
+devil has chosen his disciples, who teach sinful knowledge and arrogant
+free-thinking, and who are united in Berlin in the Order of the
+Illuminati. The Invisible Fathers command you to fight this shameful
+order in word, deed, and writing. If any of you are acquainted with
+one of the members, you shall regard him as your most deadly enemy, and
+shall hate and pursue him as you hate sin and as you pursue crime. You
+shall flee his intercourse as you would that of the devil, otherwise you
+will be damned, and the Invisible Fathers never will forgive you, and
+the secrets of Nature will be withheld from you. Swear therefore hate,
+persecution, and eternal enmity, to the Order of the Illuminati. This I
+command you in the name of the Invisible Fathers."
+
+"We swear it! We swear hate, persecution, and eternal enmity, to the
+Order of the Illuminati!"
+
+"Every one who belongs to the order is damned and cursed; and if it were
+your brother or your father, so shall you curse and damn him!"
+
+"We swear it!"
+
+"Then I bring you the blessing of the Invisible rulers and fathers, who
+announce to you, through me, that every lost one which you gain for the
+Order of the Rosicrucians, and consequently lead back to God and Nature,
+is a step toward entering the holy sanctuary of revelation, where the
+elixir of life and the tincture of gold awaits you. Every cursed member
+of the Illuminati becomes one of the blessed when you lead him from the
+path of vice in penitence and contrition, and gain him to the Order of
+the Rosicrucians; and he who can prove that he has gained twelve new
+members for our holy order mounts a round higher in the ladder of
+knowledge, and rises to a new degree. At the sixth grade he passes from
+the Inner to the Middle Temple, where all the secrets of the universe
+and of Nature are disclosed. Be mindful of this, and recruit. Until
+we meet again, let the watchword be, 'Curses and persecution for the
+devil's offspring, the Illuminati!'"
+
+"Curses and persecution for the devil's offspring, the Illuminati, we
+swear!"
+
+"Now depart! Pay your tribute at the door, which you owe, and receive in
+return the new sign of the order, which will serve to make the brothers
+known to each other. Only the directors and the members of the sixth
+grade shall knock again at this door after paying tribute, and,
+receiving the new word of life, the guard will let them enter. Depart! I
+dismiss you in the name of the Holy Father and the Trinity!"
+
+"Take this cloak, and cover yourself, that no one can recognize you,"
+whispered a person near Wilhelmine, and threw a soft covering over her.
+"Will you now depart, or seek further in the way of knowledge?"
+
+"I will seek further," answered Wilhelmine, firmly.
+
+"You wish to enter the sixth grade, and learn the secrets of Nature?"
+
+"I do!"
+
+"Then I will give you the watchword of the order. But woe unto you if
+you reveal it! Swear that you will never betray it!"
+
+"I swear it!"
+
+"Then, listen!"
+
+Wilhelmine felt a hot breath upon her cheek, and a voice whispered in
+her ear the significant words: "Now depart; pay your tribute, you cannot
+tarry here. Go, and return with the chosen!"
+
+A hand seized her arm and conducted her to the door. Almost blinded by
+the bright light, she entered the adjoining apartment, where it seemed
+as if she saw through a veil muffled figures go forward to the centre,
+and deposit money in a marble basin which stood upon a kind of altar;
+naphtha burned in silver basins upon each end of it, and a muffled
+figure stood near.
+
+Wilhelmine advanced to the altar, and with quick decision drew a diamond
+ring from her finger, and begged permission to deposit it instead of
+money.
+
+The muffled figure bowed, and handed to her the new watchword--a picture
+of a Madonna, with the sign of the Rosicrucians underneath. Then she
+returned, and awaited at the door, with a little gathering, which
+must consequently belong to the sixth grade. Gradually the others had
+withdrawn; the naphtha-flames upon the altar were extinguished, and
+the wax-lights of the centre lustres had grown dim, and gradually
+extinguished themselves. Soon the doors were opened, and a bright light,
+as of the sun's rays, filled the hall. Three blasts of trumpets sounded,
+and a choir of immortal voices sang, "Enter, ye blessed ones! Enter, ye
+elect!"
+
+They entered, whispering the sign to the guards, who stood with drawn
+swords, and passed on to the throne upon which stood a couch, surrounded
+with blooming flowers and covered with a cloud of silvery gauze. They
+soon discovered a secret something was hidden under the cloud, though
+they knew not whether it were child, woman, or man. They knelt upon the
+lower step of the throne, with folded hands and bowed heads, praying in
+a low voice. A solemn stillness reigned, the prayers died away on the
+lips, and the hearts scarcely beat for anxiety and expectation. Suddenly
+a voice, which seemed to come from the silver cloud, so distant and
+lofty, and rolling like majestic thunder, cried, "He comes, the chosen
+one! The Great Kophta comes!"
+
+The folding-doors flew open, and the Great Kophta entered.
+Wilhelmine recognized in the majestic figure, enveloped in a flowing,
+silver-embroidered satin robe, with a band of brilliants around his
+brow, the handsome face of Cagliostro, beaming as if in an ecstasy. He
+saluted the brothers with a gentle voice, and bade them approach and
+touch his hand. As Wilhelmine did so, a thrill ran through her whole
+being, and she sank overpowered at his feet. He bowed and breathed
+upon her. "You are chosen, ye heavenly brothers," he said, in a sweet,
+melodious voice; "the secrets of heaven and earth are disclosed to you.
+I receive you in the Holy Order of the Favorites of God, which I founded
+with Enoch and Elias when we dwelt in the promised land. From them I
+received the Word of Life, and they sent me to the ancient sages of
+Egypt, who revealed to me in the pyramids the secret sciences which
+subject the earth and all her treasures to our command. He who devotes
+himself to me with fidelity will receive eternal life and the secret of
+immortality."
+
+"We believe in thee, blessed one of God," murmured the kneeling ones;
+"we know that we receive life and salvation from thee. Bend to us, and
+give us of the breath of immortality!"
+
+He bowed and breathed upon them, and they broke forth in words of
+thankfulness and delight.
+
+Only Wilhelmine kept silent; she only failed to feel the magical
+influence, and he bowed again to her, fixing his great fiery eyes
+upon her. "Thou art called, thou art chosen," he said. "Mount to the
+tabernacle, and lift the veil."
+
+She did as commanded, and beheld the figure of a wonderful woman
+stretched upon the couch as in deep sleep, clothed in transparent robes.
+"Lay your hand upon her brow, and direct in your thoughts a question to
+the prophetess of the order, and she will answer you!" Upon the lofty,
+white brow of the sleeping one, she laid her hand; immediately a smile
+flitted over her beautiful face, and she nodded. "Yes," said she, "you
+must believe. You dare not doubt. He is the elect, the holy Magus!"
+Wilhelmine trembled, for the answer was suited to the question. "Demand
+a second question of the prophetess," commanded Cagliostro. Again she
+laid her hand upon the brow of the sleeping one, and again she smiled
+and nodded with her beautiful head. "Fear not," she replied; "he will
+always love you, and will never reject you, only you must not lead him
+astray from the right course--but guide him to the temple of faith and
+knowledge. When you cease to do it, you are lost. Shame upon earth and
+damnation will be your portion." The answer was exact--for Wilhelmine
+had prayed to know if the prince would always love and never reject her.
+"Still a third question," cried Cagliostro. In silence Wilhelmine asked,
+and the prophetess answered aloud: "You will be countess, you will
+become a princess, you will possess millions, you will have the whole
+world at your feet, if you call to your aid the Invisible Fathers,
+and implore the power and miraculous blessing of the Great Kophta."
+Wilhelmine, deeply moved, sank overpowered upon her knees, and cried
+aloud: "I call upon the Invisible Fathers for aid and assistance;
+I implore the power and miraculous blessing of the Great Kophta."
+Suddenly, amid the rolling of thunder and intense darkness, Wilhelmine
+felt herself lifted up--borne away, as loud prayers were uttered around
+her. Then she felt herself lowered again and with the freedom of motion.
+"Fly! fly from the revenge of the immortals, if you still doubt, still
+mistrust!" cried a fearful voice above her. "Behold how the immortals
+revenge themselves." Immediately a light began to dawn before her, a
+form rose from the darkness like her own. She beheld herself kneeling,
+imploring, her face deluged with tears, and before her a tall, erect,
+muffled figure, with a glittering sword in his uplifted arm, which
+sank gradually lower and lower until it pierced her bosom and the blood
+gushed forth. Wilhelmine shrieked and fainted. She witnessed no more
+miracles, beard no more prophecies and revelations which the magi made
+to the elect. She beheld not the appearance of the blessed spirits,
+which at the importunity of the brothers flitted through the apartment.
+She heard not Cagliostro take leave of Baron von Bischofswerder, when
+all had withdrawn, saying, "I have now exalted you to be chief director
+of the holy order. You will at once receive orders from the Invisible
+Fathers, announced to you in writing, and you will follow them
+faithfully."
+
+"I will follow them faithfully," humbly answered Bischofswerder.
+
+"You will be rewarded by the knowledge of life and of money; you shall
+discover the philosopher's stone, and the secret of gold shall be
+revealed to you, when you perform what the Invisible Fathers demand."
+
+"I will do every thing," cried Bischofswerder, fervently; "only make
+known to me their commands."
+
+"They desire, at the present, that you seek to be the confidant of the
+Prince of Prussia. Gain his affection, then govern him, making yourself
+indispensable to him. Surround him with servants and confidants that you
+can rely upon. Inspire him with devotion to the holy order. Become, now,
+the friend of the prince, that you may, one day, rule the king. You are
+the chief of the order in Prussia; the more members you gain the more
+secrets will be revealed to you. The holy fathers send me afar, but I
+shall return: if you have been active and faithful, I will make known to
+you a great secret and bring you the elixir of life."
+
+"When will you return, master?" asked Bisehofswerder, enthusiastically.
+
+Cagliostro smiled. "Before the crown prince of Prussia becomes king. Ask
+no further. Be faithful!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THE JESUIT GENERAL
+
+
+No one remained in the drawing-room but Cagliostro and the beautiful
+woman who still lay quietly on the couch, upon the throne. Cagliostro
+approached her, and, raising the veil, regarded her a moment, with an
+expression of the most passionate tenderness: "We are alone, Lorenza,"
+said he. She opened her great eyes, and looked around the dimly-lighted
+room; then, fixing them upon Cagliostro, who stood before her in his
+brilliant costume of magician, she burst into a merry laugh, so loud and
+so irresistible, that Cagliostro was seized involuntarily, and joined
+her.
+
+"Oh! was it not heavenly, was it not a glorious comedy, and did I not
+play divinely, Joseph? Was I not bewitching as the goddess of Nature?"
+
+"You looked truly like a goddess, Lorenza, and there is nothing more
+beautiful than you, in heaven or upon earth. But come, my enchantress,
+it is time to break up, as we are to set off early to-morrow morning."
+
+"Have we now much money? Was the tribute richly paid?"
+
+"Yes, we have a hundred louis d'ors and a diamond ring from the mistress
+of this house."
+
+"Give it to me," cried Lorenza.
+
+"Not the ring, Lorenza, but the diamond, so soon as I have a false stone
+set in the ring--which I must keep as a ring in the chain which will
+bind this woman to our cause."
+
+"Was I not astonishingly like her? Was it not almost unmistakable?"
+
+"Yes, wonderfully deceptive. I shuddered myself as I saw the dagger
+pointed at your bosom."
+
+"And the blood, how it gushed forth, Joseph!" Lorenza burst into a
+merry laugh again, and Cagliostro joined her, but suddenly stopped,
+and, listening, turned toward the door, which he had closed after
+Bischofswerder departed. It seemed as if he heard a noise--a peculiar
+knocking. Four times it was repeated, and Cagliostro waved his hand
+to Lorenza not to speak. Again were heard the four peculiar rhythmical
+sounds. "Be quiet, for Heaven's sake be quiet, Lorenza! Let me cover you
+with the veil; it is a messenger from the Invisibles." Cagliostro flew
+to the door, unbolted it, and stood humbly near the entrance. A masked
+figure, enveloped in a cloak, opened it, and entered, rebolting it.
+
+Slowly turning toward Cagliostro, he harshly demanded, "Whose servant
+are you?"
+
+"The servant of the Invisible Rulers and Fathers," he humbly answered.
+
+"Who are the Invisible Fathers?"
+
+"The four ambassadors of the great general of the exiles."
+
+"Call him by that name which he bore before a heretic pope in Rome, a
+weak empress, a free-thinking emperor in Germany, a lost-in-sin French
+emperor, and a heretic Spanish minister, condemned him to banishment and
+destruction."
+
+"General of the Jesuits," he answered respectfully, bowing lower.
+
+"Do you know the sign by which he may be recognized?"
+
+"Yes, by a ring with the likeness of the founder of the order, the holy
+Ignatius Loyola."
+
+"Then look, and recognize me," cried the mask, extending his hand to
+Cagliostro.
+
+"The General," he murmured, frightened, gazing at the ring upon the
+small, white hand of the other. "The holy founder of the order himself!"
+He seized his hand and pressed it to his lips, sinking upon his knees.
+The mask remained standing before the magician, as lowly as he might bow
+himself, who was still arrayed in his brilliant costume with the band
+upon his brow sparkling like diamonds.
+
+With a cold, reserved manner he answered, "I am he, and am come here to
+give you my commands by word of mouth."
+
+"Command me; I am thy humble servant, and but a weak tool in thy hands."
+
+"It is my will that you should become a powerful tool in my hands. Rise,
+for I will speak to the man who must stand erect in the storm. Rise!"
+The proud commander was now an humble, obedient servant. He rose slowly,
+standing with bowed head.
+
+"When and where did we last meet?" demanded the mask.
+
+"In 1773, at Rome."
+
+"In the year of curse and blasphemy," said the mask, in a harsh voice.
+"The year in which the infamous Pope Clement XVI. condemned the holy
+order, and hurled his famous bull, Dominus redemptor noster. The holy
+order, condemned and disbanded by his infamous mouth, were changed
+into holy martyrs, without country, without possessions or rights, as
+persecuted fugitives, wandering around the world, to the wicked a scorn,
+to the pious a lamentable example of virtue and constancy. Exiled and
+persecuted, you fled to a house of one of our order, and there we for
+the first time met. The daughter of this man was your beloved. Tell me
+why did you conceal yourself after flying from Palermo? I will see if
+the elevated one ungratefully forgets the days of his degradation."
+
+"They accused me in Palermo of falsifying documents by which rightful
+owners were deprived of their lawful possessions. They threw me
+into subterranean dungeons, and I was near dying, when the Invisible
+Protectors rescued me."
+
+"Was the accusation well founded? Had you committed the crime you were
+accused of?"
+
+"Yes," answered Cagliostro, in a low voice, "I was guilty."
+
+"For whom, by whose authority?"
+
+"For the pious fathers, who commanded me, and whose pretensions to
+the possessions of the Duc Costa Rica were clearly proved by those
+documents."
+
+"You then learned the power and the gratitude of our order. From
+underground prisons they freed you, and procured a way of escape to
+Rome, to find a safe asylum in the house of a believer. But just at
+that time condemnation burst upon us, and from a powerful order we were
+changed into a persecuted one. The forger Joseph Balsamo sought the
+brazier Feliciano, who gave him money, letters of recommendation, and
+instructed him how to serve the order, and procure an agreeable life for
+himself. Is it not so?"
+
+"It is so," answered Cagliostro, softly. "It was the order of the
+General which united you in marriage to your beloved Lorenza Feliciana,
+who initiated you in the secret sciences and the secrets of Nature, that
+you might employ them for the well-being of humanity."
+
+"It is so, master."
+
+"You implored also, as you were about to separate, to see the face of
+your benefactor, to engrave it upon your heart. Would you now be able to
+recognize it?"
+
+"I could in an instant, among thousands."
+
+The General slowly raised the mask; a pale, emaciated face was visible,
+with great black eyes in sunken sockets, thin bloodless lips, and a
+high, bony brow. "Do you recognize me?"
+
+"No!" sadly answered Cagliostro, "it is not the same face."
+
+"You see, my son, man changes, but knowledge not. I am another, and yet
+the same, for the outward human form is only the vessel of the eternal
+band into which everlasting truth and the holy doctrines are poured.
+If the vessel breaks, it is replaced by another, and an inexhaustible
+spring. Thought and holy knowledge flow into the renewed vessel. I am a
+new vessel, but the same spirit which formerly spoke to you. I know your
+past life, and for what purpose you are in the world. As the General
+then spoke to you, so speak I now. The unholy have put the holy under
+a ban--they have persecuted and condemned us. The Holy Order of the
+Fathers of Jesus is lifeless before the world, but not before God.
+Jesuits do not die, for they bear eternal life in them, and there will
+a day come when they will burst forth from darkness into light. Go, my
+son, and help prepare the day, help smooth the way, that we may walk
+therein. Have you obeyed?"
+
+"I have consecrated my whole life to it, your eminence. I have wandered
+around the world, and everywhere striven to disseminate the doctrine of
+the Invisible Fathers, and win disciples and adherents to the order. The
+Brothers of the Egyptian Masons, the Brothers of the Rosicrucians, are
+the disciples which I have won, and you know well there are many mighty
+and illustrious men among them."
+
+"I know it, and I am satisfied you are an active and useful tool. This I
+came to tell you, that I might stimulate and advise you. Great deeds you
+shall perform, great achievements the holy Ignatius Loyola announces by
+my mouth. The world lies in sin, and the devil strides victorious over
+it, since the holy order has been proscribed and persecuted by the
+wicked. The devil is arrogant progress and boasting reason. They who
+listen to him think themselves wise when they are fools, and speak of
+their enlightenment while they still wander in the dark. To combat this
+reason, to oppose this intelligence, is the task of our order, which
+will never die. For God Sent it forth to the world to fight the devil
+of progress, who is the ruler of darkness. I have observed you, I have
+followed you, and I am satisfied. But I await still greater things from
+you."
+
+"What shall it be? Speak, O master; command, and I obey!"
+
+"You shall strive throughout Europe for the restitution of the holy
+order. You shall subject to it all minds; make the rich, the powerful,
+the eminent and great, serviceable to it. Into the Orders of the
+Rosicrucians and Egyptian Masons you shall gather all the stray and
+isolated sheep into a flock, to await with longing the coming of the
+shepherd, and prepare a place for him. To the holy Church you shall
+consecrate the band of brothers, the only blessed Church, which is the
+lofty abode of the father of our order. To us belongs the world; you
+shall assist to reconquer it. Unbelievers shall be fought with every
+weapon. Every deception, slander, persecution, and murder, are holy if
+used for the benefit of the holy order. You shall shrink from nothing
+which is useful and beneficial for the sublime goal. The murder of a
+prince is no sin, but a just punishment, when it is necessary to remove
+a mighty enemy. If you create revolutions, cause nations to tear each
+other to pieces in grim civil war, these revolutions will be sanctified,
+the civil wars blessed, if they serve to strengthen the power of our
+order, and gain victory at last against the opponents. Only through our
+order can happiness reenter the world, and mankind be rescued. If the
+Holy Fathers do not sit in the council of princes, if they are not the
+conscience of the powerful, and steer the machine of state, the world
+goes to destruction, and mankind is lost. You shall help, my son, to
+turn aside the evil, and prepare happiness for earth. You have already
+done much, but much more is required. Go and work miracles; belief in
+them sanctifies the mind. Our fathers will sustain you everywhere, for
+you well know they are always present, though it is imagined they are
+not. The infamous Ganganelli has stripped them of their uniform, but
+not annihilated them, as we are, and ever shall be. I have sent out nine
+thousand brothers in Europe for the benefit of the order, and you will
+recognize them by the watchword. They will serve you as you will serve
+them. If danger menaces you, our brothers will know it, and rescue you.
+You will be unassailable, so long as you work for the order, and win
+disciples for it. Prussia is our important station as you rightly
+judged, and I extol you for your foresight. You prepare the future, for
+here it will be! When the royal mocker of religion dies, then comes a
+new kingdom, and the Rosicrucians will rise to power. Vices as well as
+virtues must serve us; therefore Dischofswerder and Wilhelmine Enke are
+useful means for holy purposes. That you have recognized it I praise
+you. Continue, my son, as you have begun, and you shall become powerful
+upon the earth. Not a hair of your head shall be touched so long as you
+are faithful to the Invisible Fathers. But so soon as you turn traitor
+to the holy cause you are lost, and our anger will crush you!"
+
+"Never will I turn traitor," cried Cagliostro, holding up his hands as
+if taking an oath.
+
+"I hope not. Our enemies shall be your enemies, and our friends your
+friends. If one of the brothers orders you in my name, 'Kill this man or
+that woman,' so kill them! Swear it!"
+
+Shuddering, Cagliostro repeated, "I swear it!"
+
+"As soon as one of the brothers orders you, in my name, 'Rescue this man
+or that woman,' so do every thing; even risk and sacrifice your life to
+rescue him."
+
+"I swear it."
+
+"You stand in the holy temple of the order, but also under its avenging
+sword. Be mindful of it in all your acts. The world is open to you, and
+our influence will be with you everywhere. You shall win the hearts of
+the great and the mighty to us, and place the Order of the Rosicrucians
+on the steps of the throne. The Great Kophta shall lead believers to
+us."
+
+"The Great Kophta will perform all that you command, as he is only
+the humble servant of his general," said Cagliostro, kissing the hand
+extended to him.
+
+"Do not kiss the hand, it is only that of an inferior mortal: kiss the
+ring, for it is the imperishable sign of our immortal saint."
+
+"I kiss the ring of the immortal Ignatius Loyola, and swear eternal
+fidelity, constant obedience, and firm love, until death."
+
+"Rise! for the time has come for us to separate. I have provided for
+the journeys the necessary means. Here are letters of recommendation to
+Warsaw and Mittau, others to Paris and London; but, the most important
+of all, letters of credit upon well-known bankers to the value of five
+hundred thousand dollars--all valid, though delivered years hence."
+
+"A half million!" cried Cagliostro, almost terrified.
+
+"Does a half million astonish you?" repeated the General, and his gray,
+fleshless face was distorted into a smile. "The Great Kophta must travel
+and live like a prince, that he may dazzle the eyes of the brothers, and
+subjugate the minds of the powerful. We give you the money, but remember
+you are always under the watchful eye of the order, and there is no spot
+on earth where you can hide yourself from our vengeance with the trust
+confided in you. You shall spend it to buy souls and win thrones, for
+hearts and consciences are sold; money will buy every thing. Take your
+letters of credit; you shall live as a great lord, and the Great Kophta
+shall be equal with princes."
+
+He handed Cagliostro five sealed letters, saying: "They are made out for
+five years; only one for each year, as the number indicates. Number one
+is for this year, and number five is only valid at the expiration of
+five years. The order is mindful of your security, and thus five years
+of your life are freed from earthly care. You shall work in spirit,
+and you shall enchant the world, that it may be saved through the only
+saving Church, and the Holy Order."
+
+He bowed a farewell, making the sign of the cross upon Cagliostro, and
+bent his steps to the throne, raising the veil which enveloped Lorenza.
+She looked up to him with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, smiling. By
+this she would express her thanks for the princely gift to her husband,
+and swear to the General her delight, her fidelity, and love. He
+regarded her as coldly and calmly as a physician a patient.
+
+"Yes, holy father, I have heard all," she said, with a sweet, flute-like
+voice. "My heart is filled with gratitude and emotion."
+
+"Prove it by assisting your husband to attain the goal for which we send
+him forth. I have already said that vice must serve virtue, Lorenza.
+Beauty is a power, and if it serves holy purposes, so is it sanctified.
+Employ your beauty to win adherents to the order, and extend the power
+of the Rosicrucians in every land, and among all nations."
+
+"I swear that this shall be my holiest endeavor," cried Lorenza, rising.
+
+The General pressed her back upon the pillow, saying: "Remain, for there
+is no one here for you to enchant. I bring you pardon for your sins, and
+an indulgence for every sin which you will commit, if you swear to serve
+faithfully the holy Church and the pious fathers of Jesus."
+
+"I swear," solemnly cried Lorenza.
+
+"Here is the letter of indulgence from Pius VI. himself, made out in
+your name for you. Take it, and perform your duty." He laid down the
+parchment provided with the papal seal upon her shoulder, and drawing
+the veil over her made the sign of the cross, saying, "I bless you, and
+give you absolution for your sins."
+
+"Bless me also, lord and master," cried Cagliostro, kneeling upon the
+lowest step to the throne.
+
+"I bless you in the name of Loyola. Remain upon your knees, and follow
+me not." He extended his hands over him, and blessed him, then slowly
+withdrew.
+
+The first beams of the morning sun shone through the great window-panes,
+lighting up with its golden rays Cagliostro's kneeling form. He remained
+with his head bowed until the General had passed out. "He is gone;
+Heaven be praised, he is gone!"
+
+"Yes, he is gone," repeated Lorenza, springing from the couch. "Is it
+true, has he given you half a million?"
+
+Cagliostro held up with triumphant air the letters. "See, these
+addresses are upon the first banking-houses in Rome, Paris, London, and
+Berlin!"
+
+"Do you believe that they are genuine?"
+
+"I am convinced of it."
+
+"Then we have attained our aim; we are rich and powerful."
+
+"No," answered Cagliostro, mournfully, "we are poorer than ever. This
+money makes us slaves, makes us dependent tools. Did you not hear him
+say, 'You are admitted into the Temple, but the avenging sword of the
+order everywhere hangs over you.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. A PENSIONED GENERAL.
+
+
+"Wife," cried the General von Werrig, limping around the room, leaning
+upon his crutch, "here is the answer from our most gracious lord and
+king. The courier arrived to-day from the war department, and sent it to
+me by an express."
+
+"What is the king's answer?" asked the general's wife, a pale, gaunt
+woman, with a pock-marked face, harsh, severe features, dull gray eyes,
+which never beamed with emotion, and thin, bloodless lips, upon which
+a smile never played. "What is the king's answer?" she repeated, in
+a rough voice, as her husband, puffing and blowing from the effort of
+walking, sank down upon a chair, and dried his fat, ruby face with a red
+cotton pocket-handkerchief.
+
+"I have not read it," panted the old man. "I thought I would leave the
+honor to you, as you, my very learned wife, wrote the letter to his
+majesty."
+
+His wife was not in the least astonished at this thoughtful conduct of
+her husband. She impetuously seized the sealed document, and, retiring
+to the window-niche, slowly unfolded it, whilst the old general fixed
+his little gray eyes upon her emotionless face. His own was bloated and
+red, expressing the greatest anxiety and expectation. Perfect stillness
+reigned for some minutes, only the regular strokes of the pendulum
+were heard from the clock on the wall; and, as the hands pointed to the
+expiration of the hour, a cuckoo sprang out of the tree painted over the
+dial, and eleven times her hoarse, croaking voice was heard.
+
+"It gets every day more out of tune," growled the general, as he
+looked up to the old, yellow dial, and ran his eye over the cords which
+supported the weights. Then glancing around the room, he saw everywhere
+age, decay, and indigence. There was an old divan, with a patched, faded
+covering of silk, and a grandfather's arm-chair near it, the cushion of
+which the general knew, by the long years of experience, to be hard as a
+stone. A round table stood near the divan, covered with a shabby woollen
+cover, to hide the much-thumbed, dull polish. A few cane-chairs against
+the wall, an old black-oak wardrobe near the door, and the sewing-table
+of Madame von Werrig in the window-niche, completed the furniture of
+the room. At the window hung faded woollen curtains, and on the green
+painted walls some pictures and portraits, conspicuous among them a
+beautiful portrait of the king, painted on copper, which represented
+Frederick in his youthful beauty. It was a morose, sullen-looking room,
+arranged most certainly by its feminine occupant, and harmonized exactly
+with her fretful face and angular figure, void of charms. At last the
+general broke the silence with submissive voice: "I pray you, Clotilda,
+tell me what the king wrote."
+
+She folded the paper, joy beaming in her eyes. "Granted! every thing
+granted!"
+
+The general jumped up to embrace his wife with youthful activity, in
+spite of the gout. "You are a capital wife," he cried, at the same time
+giving her a loud, smacking kiss upon her cold, gray cheek. "It was the
+brightest, cleverest act of my life marrying you, Clotilda."
+
+"I might well say the reverse, Emerentius," she replied, complainingly.
+"It surely was not sensible for me, a young lady from such a genteel
+family, and so spoiled, to marry an officer whom the king ennobled upon
+the battle-field, and who possessed nothing but his captain's pay--a
+fickle man, and a gambler, too."
+
+"Yes, Clotilda, love usurped reason," soothingly replied the general;
+"love is your excuse."
+
+"Nonsense!" cried Madame von Werrig. "Love is never an excuse; it is
+folly."
+
+"Well, let us suppose, then, that you did not marry for love, only from
+pure reason, because you found that it was quite time to espouse some
+one; and that, in spite of your many ancestors and genteel family, no
+other chance was offered you, unfortunately no one but this captain,
+whom the king ennobled upon the battle-field of Leuthen on account of
+his bravery, and who was a very handsome, agreeable officer, expecting
+still further promotion. And you were not deceived. I was major, when
+the Hubertsburger treaty put an end to a gay war-life. You will remember
+I was advanced during peace; his majesty did not forget that I cut a
+way for him through the enemy, and he made me lieutenant-colonel and
+colonel, when I was obliged to resign on account of this infamous gout,
+and then I received the title of general."
+
+"Without 'excellency,'" replied his wife, dryly. "I have not even
+this pleasure to be called 'excellency.' It would have been a slight
+compensation for my sad, miserable existence, and vexed many of
+the female friends of my youth if they had been obliged to call me
+'excellency.' But my marriage brought me only cares, not even a title."
+
+"Do not forget a lovely daughter, Clotilda. Our Marie is beautiful,
+wise, and good, and through her you will yet have tranquil happiness.
+For you say the king has granted all we wish."
+
+"Every thing!" repeated the wife, with emphasis. "We have at last
+finished with want and care, and can count upon an independent, quiet
+old age, for God has been gracious, and forced you, from the gout, to
+give up gambling, and we are freed from the misery which has so often
+threatened us from your unhappy passion."
+
+"At the beginning, I played from passion; afterward, I only played to
+win back what I had lost."
+
+"And in that manner played away all we possessed, and played upon your
+word of honor, so that for years the half of our pension went to pay
+your gambling-debts. Heaven be thanked, the king did not know it, or we
+would have experienced still worse!"
+
+"I pray you, beloved Clotilda, do not fret yourself needlessly about the
+past; it is all over, and, as you say, I am unfortunately a prisoner in
+the house from the gout, which shields me from the temptation."
+
+"I did not say unfortunately; I said 'Heaven be praised, the gout had
+put an end to your fickle life.'"
+
+"Then, thank Heaven, my dear; we will not quarrel about it. It is past,
+and, as the king has granted all, we shall have a pleasant life now."
+
+"We will soon receive from our son-in-law a yearly pension, which will
+be paid to me, and I shall spend it."
+
+The general sighed. "In that case I fear that I shall not get much of
+it."
+
+"At any rate, more than I have ever received from your pension."
+
+"There is but one thing wanting," replied the general, evasively,
+"Marie's consent."
+
+Madame von Werrig gave a short, gruff laugh, which did not in the least
+brighten her sullen face. "We will not ask her consent, but command it."
+
+The general remarked, timidly, shrugging his shoulders, "Marie had a
+very decided character, and--"
+
+"What do you hesitate to speak out for? What--and--"
+
+"I think she still loves the Conrector Moritz."
+
+A second laugh, somewhat menacing, sounded like a challenge. "The
+schoolmaster!" she cried, contemptuously.
+
+"Let her dare to tell me again she loves the schoolmaster; she the
+daughter of a general, and a native-born countess of the empire!"
+
+"My dear, it was your fault--the only fault you ever committed, perhaps.
+How could you let such a young, handsome, and agreeable man come to the
+house as teacher to our daughter?"
+
+"How could I suppose my daughter was so degenerated as to love a common
+schoolmaster, and wish to marry him?"
+
+"It is truly unheard of, and it would make any one angry, my dear wife,
+for she insists upon loving him."
+
+"She will not insist, she will do what she is commanded to do--my word
+for it! But why talk about it? It is better to decide the matter at
+once."
+
+So Frau von Werrig rose with a determined manner, and rang the small
+brass bell which was upon the sofa-table. But a few seconds elapsed
+before a little, crooked servant appeared at the side-door, with her
+dirty apron put aside by tucking the corner in her belt. "Go to my
+daughter, and tell her to come down immediately!"
+
+The servant, instead of hastening to obey the order, remained standing
+upon the threshold. "I dare not go," said she, in a hoarse, croaking
+voice. "Fraulein told me not to disturb her to-day, for she has still
+two bouquets of flowers to arrange, and two lessons to give, and she is
+so busy that she is not at home to visitors. She torments herself from
+morning till night."
+
+"I order you to tell Fraulein to come down at once; we have something
+important to tell her. No contradiction! go, Trude!"
+
+The servant understood the cold, commanding tone of the mother, and
+dared not disobey.
+
+"It is nothing good that they have to tell her," grumbled Trude, as she
+hurried up the stairs which led from the first story into the little,
+low room in the attic, under the sloping roof. Here and there a few
+tiles could be lifted, which lighted the garret sufficiently to show the
+door at the end. "May I come in, my dear Fraulein? it is Trude."
+
+"The door is open," cried a sweet voice, and Trude entered. It is a
+most charming little room, just that of a young girl. The bed has a
+snow-white covering, and white curtains, suspended from a hook in the
+wall around it. The same curtains at the low gable-windows, whose
+depth, so to speak, made a light anteroom to the real gloomy one in the
+background. In this little anteroom the young girl had placed all that
+was necessary for her pleasure and use. There were the most beautiful,
+sweet-scented flowers upon the window-stool; in a pretty metal cage was
+a light-colored canary. There were also pretty engravings, and upon the
+table stood a vase filled with superb artificial flowers, and before
+it sat the possessor of this room, the daughter of General and Frau von
+Werrig, surrounded with her work-tools, paper, and colored materials--a
+young girl, scarcely twenty, of a proud, dignified appearance, but
+simply and gracefully dressed. According to the fashion of the day, her
+hair was slightly powdered, and raised high above her broad, clear
+brow with a blue rosette, and ends at the side. The nobly-formed
+and beautiful face was slightly flushed, and around the month was an
+expression of courageous energy. As old Trude entered, the young girl
+raised her eyes from the rose-bud which she was just finishing, and
+looked at her. What beautiful black eyes they were as they sparkled
+underneath the delicately-arched, black eyebrows!
+
+"Now, old one," said she, kindly, "what do you wish? Did you forget that
+I wanted to work undisturbed to-day?"
+
+"Didn't forget it, my Fraulein, but--"
+
+"But you have forgotten that up here, in my attic-room, I am not your
+Fraulein, but your Marie, whom you have taken care of and watched over
+when a child, and whose best and truest friend you have been. Come, give
+me your hand, and tell me what you have to say."
+
+Old Trude shuffled hurriedly along in her leather slippers. Her old,
+homely face looked almost attractive, with its expression of glowing
+tenderness, as she regarded the beautiful, smiling face before her,
+and laid her hard brown hand in the little white one extended to her.
+"Marie," she said, softly and anxiously, "you must go down at once to
+your mother and father. They have something very important to tell you."
+
+"Something very important!" repeated Marie, laying aside her work. "Do
+you know what it is?"
+
+"Nothing good, I fear," sighed the old woman. "A soldier has been here
+from the war department and brought a letter for the general, and he
+told me that it was sent from the king's cabinet at Breslau."
+
+"Oh, Heaven! what does it mean?" cried Marie, frightened, and springing
+up. "Something is going to happen, I know. I have noticed certain
+expressions which escaped my father; the proud, threatening manner of my
+mother; but above all the bold importunity of that man, whom I despise
+as one detests vice, stupidity, and ennui. They will not believe that I
+hate him, that I rather--"
+
+"Marie, are you not coming?" called the mother, with a commanding voice.
+
+"I must obey," she said, drawing a long breath, and hastening to the
+door, followed by Trude, who pulled her back and held her fast upon the
+very first step. "You have forbidden me to speak of him, but I must."
+
+Marie stood as if rooted to the spot, her face flushed, and in
+breathless expectation looking back to old Trude.
+
+"Speak, Trude," she softly murmured.
+
+"Marie, I saw him to-day, an hour ago!"
+
+"Where, Trude, where did you see him?"
+
+"Over on the corner of Frederick Street, by the baker's. He stood
+waiting for me, as he knows I always go there. He had been there two
+hours, and feared that I was not coming."
+
+"What did he say? Quick! what did he say?"
+
+"He said that he was coming to see you to-day at twelve o'clock; that he
+would rather die than live in this way."
+
+"To-day? and you have just told me of it!"
+
+"I did not mean to say any thing at all about it; I thought it would be
+better, and then you would not have to dissemble. But now, if any harm
+comes to you, you know he is coming, and will stand by you!"
+
+"He will stand by me--yes, he will--"
+
+"Marie!" cried her mother, and her dry, gaunt figure appeared at the
+foot of the stairs. Marie flew down to the sitting-room of her parents,
+following her mother, who took her place in the niche at the open window
+without speaking to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. THE KING'S LETTER.
+
+
+"Marie," said the general's wife, after seating herself upon the hard
+cushion of the divan, near which sat the general in his arm-chair,
+busily stroking his painful right leg--"Marie, take a chair, and sit
+near us."
+
+Marie noiselessly brought a cane-chair, and seated herself by the table,
+opposite her parents.
+
+"We have just received a communication from the king's cabinet,"
+said the mother, solemnly. "It is necessary that you should know the
+contents, and I will read it aloud to you. I expressly forbid you,
+however, to interrupt me while I am reading, in your impetuous
+manner, with your remarks, which are always of the most obstinate and
+disagreeable kind. You understand, do you, Marie?"
+
+"Perfectly, mother; I will listen without interrupting you, according to
+your command."
+
+"This communication is naturally addressed to your father, as I wrote to
+the king in his name."
+
+"I did not know that you had written to his majesty at all, dear
+mother."
+
+The mother cast a furious glance at the gentle, decided face of her
+daughter. "You already forget my command and your promise to listen
+without interrupting me. I did, indeed, write to his majesty, but it is
+not necessary to tell you what I, or rather your father, solicited,
+as you will hear it in the answer from our most gracious king. It runs
+thus: 'My faithful subject: I have received your petition, and I was
+glad to learn by this occasion that you are well, and that you now lead
+a steady, reasonable life. Formerly you gave good cause of complaint;
+for it is well known to me that you led a dissolute life, and your
+family suffered want and misfortune from your abominable chance-games.
+You know that I have twice paid your debts; that at the second time I
+gave you my royal word of assurance that I would never pay a
+groschen for you again. If you gave yourself up to the vice, and made
+gambling-debts, I would send you to the fortress at Spandau, and deprive
+you of your pension. Nevertheless you played again, and commenced your
+vicious life anew. Notwithstanding which, I did not send you to prison
+as I threatened, and as you deserved, because I remembered that you
+had been a brave soldier, and did me a good service at the battle of
+Leuthen. For this reason I now also grant your request, that, as you
+have no son, your name and coat-of-arms may descend to your son-in-law.
+The name of Werrig-Leuthen is well worthy to be preserved, and be an
+example to succeeding generations. I give my permission for Ludwig
+Ebenstreit, banker, to marry your daughter and only child, and--'"
+
+Marie uttered a cry of horror, and sprang from her seat. "Mother!--"
+
+"Be still! I commanded you not to interrupt me, but listen, with
+becoming respect, to the end, to the words' of his majesty." And, with
+a louder voice, occasionally casting a severe, commanding glance at her
+daughter, she read on: "'And call himself in future Ludwig Werrig von
+Leuthen. I wish that he should honor the new name, and prove himself a
+true nobleman. Ludwig Ebenstreit must give up, or sell, without delay,
+his banking business, as I cannot permit a nobleman to continue the
+business of citizen, and remain a merchant. A nobleman must either be a
+soldier or a landed proprietor; and if your future son-in-law will not
+be either, he can live upon his income, which must indeed be ample. But
+I command him to spend it in the country, not go to foreign countries to
+spend what he has gained in the country. If he should do it, it will
+not be well with him, and he shall be brought back by force. You may
+communicate this to him, and he can judge for himself. I will have the
+letters of nobility made out for him, for which he shall pay the sum of
+one hundred louis d'ors to the 'Invalids' at Berlin. It depends upon him
+whether as a true nobleman he will not give my poor 'Invalids' a greater
+sum. The marriage shall not take place until the letters of nobility
+have been published in the Berlin journals, for I do not wish the
+daughter of a general, and a countess, to marry beneath her. You can
+prepare every thing for the wedding, and let them be married as soon as
+publication has been made. I will give the bride a thousand thalers for
+a dowry, that she may not go to her rich husband penniless; the money
+will be paid to your daughter from the government treasury at her
+receipt. As ever I remain your well-disposed king, FREDERICK.'
+
+"And here on the margin," continued the general's wife, looking over to
+her husband with malicious pleasure, "the king has written a few lines
+in his own hand: 'I have given orders that the money shall be paid to
+your daughter in person, with her receipt for the same, for I know you,
+and know that you do not play, not because you have not the money, but
+the gout. If you had the cash and not the gout, you would play your
+daughter's dowry to the devil, and that I do not wish, for a noble
+maiden should not marry a rich husband as poor as a church mouse.
+FREDERICK.'"
+
+A profound stillness prevailed when the reading was finished. The
+general busied himself, as usual, rubbing his gouty leg with the palm
+of his hand. Marie sat with her hands pressed upon her bosom, as if she
+would force back the sighs and sobs which would break forth. Her great,
+black eyes were turned to her mother with an expression of painful
+terror, and she searched with a deathly anxiety for a trace of sympathy
+and mercy upon her cold, immovable face.
+
+Her mother slowly folded the letter, and laid it upon the table. "You
+know all now, Marie--that, as it becomes parents, we have disposed
+of your future and your hand. You will submit to their wishes without
+murmuring or opposition, as it becomes an obedient, well-brought-up
+daughter, and receive the husband we have chosen for you. He will
+come today to hear your consent, and you from this day forth are the
+betrothed of the future Herr von Werrig. Of course from this very hour
+you will cease the highly improper and ungenteel business which you have
+pursued. You must not make any more flowers, or give any more lessons.
+The time of such degradation and humiliation is past, and my daughter
+can no longer be a school-mistress. You have only to write the receipt
+to-day, and I will go with you to the treasury to get the money."
+
+"I will not write the receipt," said Marie, gently but firmly. Her
+mother, in the act of rising, sank back upon the divan; and the general,
+apparently quite occupied with his leg, stopped rubbing, and raised his
+red, bloated face to his daughter in astonishment. "Did I understand
+rightly your words, that you would not write the receipt?"
+
+"Yes, mother, I said so; I cannot and will not write it," replied Marie,
+gently.
+
+"And why cannot you, and will you not write it?" said her mother,
+scornfully.
+
+"Because I have no right to the money, and cannot take it, mother, as I
+will never be the wife of the man you intend me to marry."
+
+The general sprang with a savage curse from his arm-chair, and would
+have rushed to his daughter, but his wife pushed him back into his seat,
+and approached Marie, who rose, regarding her mother with a firm, sad
+expression. "Why can you not be the wife of the man we have chosen for
+you? Answer me, WHY you cannot?"
+
+"You know, mother," she replied, and gradually her voice assumed a more
+decided tone, her cheeks reddened, and an inspired expression beamed
+from her eyes, and pervaded her whole being--"you know, mother, that
+I can never be the wife of Herr Ebenstreit, for I do not love him. I
+despise and abominate him, because he is a man without honor; he knows
+that I do not love him, and yet he insists upon marrying me. If it were
+not so, if I did not despise and abominate him, I would not receive his
+suit and marry him."
+
+"Why not?" cried the general, shaking his fist at his daughter.
+
+"Why not?" cried the mother, with a cold, icy glance, void of pity or
+anger.
+
+Marie encountered these looks with beaming eyes. "Because I am betrothed
+to another," and the words came like a cry of joy from her
+heart--"because I am engaged to my beloved Moritz!"
+
+"Shameless, obstinate creature, have we not forbidden it?" cried her
+father.
+
+"Stop!" interrupted his wife, with a commanding wave of her hand, which
+silenced the obedient husband immediately. "It belongs to me to question
+her, for I am her mother, and my daughter owes me submission and
+obedience above all things.--Answer me, Marie, did you not know that we
+had forbidden you to speak to this man, or have any communication with
+him? Did you not know that I, your mother, had menaced you with a
+curse if you married this man, or even spoke to the miserable, pitiable
+creature?"
+
+"Mother," cried Marie, vehemently, "he is not a poor, miserable
+creature. You may hate him, but you dare not outrage the noble, the
+good, and just man!"
+
+"He is a good-for-nothing fellow," cried her father; "he has tried to
+win a minor behind the parents' back. He is a shameful, good-for-nothing
+seducer."
+
+"He is dishonorable," cried the general's wife--"a dishonorable man, who
+has misused our confidence. We confided to him our daughter to teach,
+and paid him for it. He improved the opportunity to make a declaration
+of love, and stole the time from us to infatuate the heart of our
+daughter with flattery, and from his pupil win a bride."
+
+"Oh, unworthy, shameful slander!" cried Marie, her eyes flashing with
+anger. "You well know that it is a vile scandal, that Moritz was no
+paid teacher. If he had been--if he had felt obliged to yield to the sad
+necessity of being paid for his valuable time, because he was poor, and
+forced to live by his intellect, he was a free man, and had the right
+to love whom he chose. He loves me, and I have accepted his love as the
+most precious, most beautiful, and most glorious gift of my life. Ah!
+do not look so angry with me, father; I cannot say otherwise. I cannot
+crush or deny the inmost life of my life.--Oh, mother, forgive me that
+I cannot change it! You know that otherwise I have been a most obedient
+daughter to you in all things, although you have never taught me the
+happiness of possessing a loving mother; though neither of you could
+ever forgive your only child for not being a son, who could inherit your
+name, and win a brilliant position, yet I have always loved you tenderly
+and truly, and never complained that the unwelcome daughter received
+neither love nor tenderness, only indifference and coldness from her
+parents."
+
+"Beautiful, very beautiful!" replied the mother, contemptuously.
+"Now you wish to blame us that you are a heartless and thankless
+daughter.--We have not understood her heart, and it is our fault that
+her love has flown somewhere else.
+
+"This is the language of romance. I have, indeed, read it in the
+romances of Herr Moritz, and my daughter has only repeated what she
+learned as a docile pupil from her schoolmaster. Very fine, to pay Herr
+Moritz to form our daughter into the heroine of a romance! She ought to
+have learned the languages, but has learned only the language of
+romances."
+
+"You are very severe and very cruel, mother," said Marie, sadly. "I
+would not complain, only excuse myself, and implore pity and indulgence,
+and defend myself from the reproach of having been a cold, unloving
+daughter. Oh! God knows how I have longed for your love; that I would
+willingly prove that I would joyfully do every thing to embellish your
+life and make you happy. It gave me such pleasure to earn something
+for you with my dear flowers and lessons, and afford you a little
+gratification!"
+
+"Ah! now, she will reproach us with having toiled for us and sacrificed
+herself. Husband, thank yourself for the victim who worked for you, who
+gave her youth for us that she might strew our life with roses."
+
+"I have had enough of this talking and whining," cried the general,
+furiously beating the table with his fist. "My daughter shall not be a
+heroine of romance, but an obedient child, who submits to the will of
+her parents. You shall marry the man that we have chosen for you; the
+king has given his consent, and it shall take place. I command you! That
+is sufficient! I will hear no more about it; the thing is done with.
+Herr Ebenstreit is coming this afternoon to make you a proposal of
+marriage with our consent, and you must, accept him. I command you to do
+it!"
+
+"I cannot obey you! Oh, do not force me to rebel against God's holy
+laws! Have pity upon me! I have obeyed you until now, and yielded to
+your wishes, although I thought it would break my heart sometimes. You
+have forbidden Moritz the house, and turned him out of doors like a
+servant, with scorn and contempt, and he has silently borne it on my
+account. You have forbidden me to write or receive letters from him,
+or ever to meet him. My mother would curse me if I disobeyed her, and
+I submitted. I have given up every thing, sacrificed every wish, and
+renounced my love. But you cannot expect more from me, or dare ask it.
+I can forego happiness, but you cannot ask me to consent to be buried
+alive!"
+
+"And what if we should wish it?" asked her mother. "If we should demand
+our daughter to give up a romantic, foolish love, to become the wife of
+a young man who loves her, and who loves us, and who is rich enough to
+assure us a comfortable old age, free from care?"
+
+"Marie," cried the general, in a begging and almost imploring tone,
+"Marie, prove to us now that you are really a good and grateful
+child--we have had so much care and want in our life, so many sorrowful
+days! It lies in your hands to make our declining days joyous and
+bright, and free us from want. We have often grumbled against God, that
+He did not give us a son; now make us to rejoice that He has given us
+a daughter, who will bring us a son and inherit our name through her
+children, and who will give us what we have never known--prosperity and
+riches. I beg you, my dear, good child, grant your parents the few last
+years of their life freedom from care!"
+
+"And I, Marie," said her mother, in a softened and tender tone, which
+Marie had never heard from her--"I beg you also, be a good daughter,
+pity your mother! I have always led a joyless, unhappy life. I lived
+unmarried, a native-born countess, with proud relations, who made me
+feel bitterly my dependence; when married my existence was only trouble,
+privations, care, and sorrow. I beg you, Marie, teach me to know
+happiness, for which I have so longed in vain; give me independence and
+prosperity, which I have always desired, and never known. I pray, Marie,
+make us happy in bringing us a rich, genteel, and good son-in-law, Herr
+Ebenstreit."
+
+Marie, who met the scorn and threats of her mother with firmness and a
+proud demeanor, trembled as she heard these severe and merciless lips,
+always so cold and harsh, now begging and imploring. At first she was
+quite frightened, and then terrified, and covered her face with her
+hands, her head sinking upon her breast as her mother spoke.
+
+"Speak, my daughter," cried the general, as his wife was silent. "Speak,
+my dear Marie. Say the word, and we shall be all happy, and there will
+be no happier family found in Berlin, or the world even. Say that you
+will marry Ebenstreit, and we will love and bless you so long as we
+live. Do say yes, dear Marie!"
+
+Her hands fell from her face, and stretching them out toward her
+parents, she looked at them in despair.
+
+There was a fearful pause. "I cannot, it is impossible!" she shrieked.
+"I cannot marry this man, for I do not love him. I love another, whom I
+can never forget, whom I shall love forever. I love--"
+
+"Herr Conrector Moritz!" announced Trude, hastily bursting open the
+door, and looking in with a triumphant smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+HATE AND LOVE
+
+
+"Herr Conrector Moritz wishes to pay his respects," called out Trude
+again.
+
+"We do not wish to receive him," cried Frau von Werrig.
+
+"He dare not presume to enter!" shrieked the general.
+
+Marie cried, "Moritz! Oh! my beloved Moritz," rushing with outstretched
+arms toward her lover, who just appeared at the door. "God has sent you
+to sustain me in this fearful hour."
+
+Old Trude peeped through the half-closed door, well satisfied to see her
+dear young lady folded in Moritz's arms, and her head leaning upon his
+shoulder. "Yes," she murmured, closing softly the door, "Marie is right,
+God himself sent her lover in this hour, and I would not let her wicked,
+hard-hearted parents send him away."
+
+Quick as thought she turned the key, fastening the door, and betook
+herself to the farthest room, carefully closing every door between them.
+"Now we will see for once whether they will show him the door, and pitch
+him out. No, they will be obliged to listen to him. Old Trude wishes it,
+for it will make her dear Marie happy. It is all the same to me if the
+old German tries to scratch my eyes out for it; I will take good care to
+keep out of his way. I must go and listen once."
+
+She put her ear to the keyhole, and then her eye, to see how the
+quarrellers looked.
+
+At first the general and his wife were quite alarmed, and almost
+speechless as they witnessed the joyful meeting of the lovers. The
+father sprang up suddenly, with clinched fist, but instead of bitter
+invectives only a fearful shriek of pain was heard, as he sank groaning
+and whimpering into his armchair. The gout had again seized its victim.
+Anger had excited the general's blood, and had also brought on the pain
+in his leg again. His wife took no notice of his cries and groans, for
+it was quite as agreeable to her to be the only speaker, and have her
+moaning husband a kind of assenting chorus. "Leave each other!" she
+commanded, as she approached the lovers, flourishing her long shrivelled
+arms about. "Leave each other, and leave my house!"
+
+Laying her hand on Marie's arm, which was thrown around her lover's
+neck, she endeavored to tear her away, and draw her daughter toward
+herself. But Marie clung only the more firmly, and Moritz pressed her
+more fervently to his heart. They heeded not and heard not the outburst
+of anger which the mother gave way to. They read in each other's eyes
+the bliss, the joy of meeting again, and the assurance of constant,
+imperishable love.
+
+"You are pale and thin, my beloved!"
+
+"Sorrow for you is consuming me, Marie, but, thank Heaven, you are
+unchanged, and beautiful as ever!"
+
+"Hope and love have consoled and strengthened me, Philip."
+
+"Enough! I forbid you to speak another word to each other," and with the
+power which rage lends, the mother tore Marie away. "Herr Moritz,
+will you tell me by what right you force yourself into our house, and
+surprise us like a street-thief in our peaceful dwelling? But no! you
+need not tell me, I will not listen to you. Those who permit themselves
+to enter our room unasked and unwelcomed--I will have nothing to say to
+them. Leave! there is the door! Out with you, off the threshold!"
+
+With calm demeanor, Moritz now approached Fran von Werrig, demanding
+her pardon, saying: "You see, madame, that I am not so unwelcome here,
+therefore you will be obliged to let me remain."
+
+"Yes, that she will," sneered Trude, outside the door. "It will be
+difficult for her to send him off so long as I am unwilling."
+
+"No, I will not permit it. We have nothing to do with each other. Out of
+my sight!--Away!"
+
+"Away!" cried the general. "Oh, the gout, the maddening pains! I cannot
+throw the bold fellow out of the house! I must lie here, and writhe like
+a worm! I cannot be master of my house. Oh, oh! what pain!"
+
+"Stay, Philip," whispered Marie, as she again leaned toward Moritz.
+"They wish to sell me and force me to a hated marriage. Do not yield!
+save me!"
+
+"You are mine, Marie; you have sworn to me eternal constancy, and no one
+can compel you to marry if you do not wish to."
+
+"We are her parents; we can, and we will compel her," triumphantly cried
+Frau von Werrig. "The king has given his consent, and if it is necessary
+we will drag her to the altar by force!"
+
+"Do it, mother, and I will say no before all the world."
+
+"We will take care that no one hears you but the priest, and he will not
+listen, as he knows that the king has commanded you to say yes!"
+
+"But God will hear her, Frau von Werrig, and He will take vengeance on
+the cruel, heartless mother."
+
+"I will await this vengeance," she sneered. "It does not concern you,
+and you need not trouble yourself about it. Leave the house!"
+
+"I came here to speak with you, and I will not go away until you have
+listened to me."
+
+"Then I will leave, for I will not hear you, and I command you to follow
+me, Marie!"
+
+She seized Marie with irresistible force, and drew her toward the side
+door, which was fast. Then hurried toward the entrance, dragging her
+daughter after her, but shook it in vain; that door was fastened also.
+
+"Oh! I could kiss myself," murmured Trude, as she patted her old,
+wrinkled cheeks. "I was as cunning and wise as Solomon. There, shriek
+for Trude, order her to open it. Trude is not there, and she has no ears
+for you!"
+
+"This is a plot--a shameful plot!" cried Frau von Werrig, stamping her
+feet. "That good-for-nothing creature, Trude, is in it. She has locked
+the doors, and the schoolmaster paid her for it."
+
+Trude shook her fist at her mistress behind the door. "Wait! that
+good-for-nothing creature will punish you! You shall have something to
+be angry about with me every day."
+
+"I swear to you that I do not know who locked the doors," replied
+Moritz, calmly. "But whoever did it, I thank them from the depths of my
+soul, for it forces you to listen to me, and may love give my words the
+power to soften your heart. General and Frau von Werrig, I conjure you
+to have compassion upon us. Is it possible that you are deaf to the cry
+of grief of your own child?"
+
+Suddenly assuming a contemptuous calm, Frau von Werrig sank back upon
+the divan with great dignity. "As I am obliged to listen to you, through
+a shameful deception, let it be so. Try to make ears in my heart, which
+you say is deaf. Let me listen to your wonderful eloquence!"
+
+"Oh, Philip!" said Marie, clasping his arms, "you see it will all be in
+vain."
+
+"Let me hope to succeed in awakening a spark of loving mercy, as Moses
+caused the fountain to gush from the rock.--A year since you turned me
+insultingly from your door, Frau von Werrig, and you forbade me with
+scorn and contempt to ever cross your threshold. In the rebellious pride
+of my heart I swore never to do it again, never to speak to those who
+had so injured me. The holy, pure love which binds me to this dear girl
+has released me from my oath. We have tried to live separated from each
+other a long year, an inconsolable, unhappy year! We hoped to renounce
+each other, although we could not forget. Marie, as an obedient
+daughter, obeyed your commands, and returned the ring, which I gave her
+in a moment of affection and holy trust. I released her from the oath of
+constancy, and made her free! But it is in vain! During this year I have
+striven with sorrow as a man, helpless in a desert, who writhes in the
+folds of the poisonous serpent. I should have gone mad if a consoling
+word from a great and noble mind had not roused me from my desolation,
+and if love had not shed a ray of light into my benighted soul. I
+listened no longer to sickening pride and humbled sense of honor. Love
+commanded me to come here, and I came to ask you, Marie, in the presence
+of your parents, if you will be my wife; if you will accept my poor,
+insignificant name, and be contented by my side to lead a quiet, modest
+existence. I can only earn sufficient to assure us a peaceful life. I
+have no splendor, no treasures to offer you, but only my love, my heart,
+my life, my whole thought and being. Will you accept it, Marie?"
+
+"I do accept it, Moritz, as the greatest happiness of my life. I desire
+only your love, and I can return only my love to you! Here is my hand,
+Philip, it belongs to you alone! Let us kneel in humility before my
+parents, and implore their blessing.--Oh, my father and mother, have
+pity upon us! See this dear man, to whom my whole heart belongs.
+I desire only to live and toil with him. There are no riches, no
+treasures, to compare with his love!"
+
+"General and Frau von Werrig, grant me the wife of my heart!" cried
+Philip Moritz, deeply moved. "It is true, I am not worthy of her, I have
+no name, no position, to offer her, but I swear to strive to gain it for
+her. I will win by my talents and knowledge a distinguished name, and
+perhaps one day you will concede to my fame that I am a noble man,
+though not a nobleman. Will you separate two hearts which belong to
+each other? Take me for your son-in-law, and I swear to be devoted and
+faithful, to love and honor you for your daughter's sake. I can say
+no more--words cannot express all that I feel. Love causes me to kneel
+before you, love makes me humble as a child. I implore you to give me
+your daughter in marriage."
+
+"I also implore you," cried Marie, sinking down beside Moritz, "give to
+me this man, whom I love and honor, for my husband."
+
+It was a beautiful and impressive scene--these two young beings pleading
+for happiness; their eyes flashing with the inspiration of feeling,
+conscious that they were one in affection, and ready to combat the whole
+world for each other. But Frau von Werrig was immovable, and the general
+was too much occupied with his gouty, throbbing leg even to cast a look
+upon the beautiful group of youth, love, manly determination, and tender
+resignation.
+
+Outside the door, Trude knelt imploringly, with folded hands, while the
+tears ran down her old cheeks in big drops. "O God, I well know that
+they have no pity; have mercy Thou, and cause my dear Marie to be happy!
+Suffer not that that hard-hearted woman should sell her, and marry
+her to that bad man my Marie despises. I well know that I am a poor
+creature, and not worthy that Thou shouldst listen to me, O Lord! But
+I love that young girl as if she were my own child, and I would give
+my heart's blood for her. Oh, my God! I implore Thee to let my Marie
+be happy!" Then she continued, as she rose from her knees. "Now, I have
+spoken, and I commit every thing to God, and He will do what is best.
+She has been obliged to listen to him, and if it cannot be otherwise, he
+must go."
+
+Carefully old Trude unlocked both doors, and then stopped to listen.
+
+Trude was right, there was no mercy in Frau von Werrig's heart. "Have
+you finished? Have you any thing more to say?" she asked, in her most
+unsympathizing manner.
+
+"Nothing more with our lips, but our hearts still implore you."
+
+"I do not understand this language, sir, and you have not succeeded in
+giving me hearing, or ears to hear with. In this useless strife I will
+say a last word, which I hope will be for life. You shall never be the
+husband of my daughter! You can never be united."
+
+Marie and Moritz sprang from their knees, laying their hands in each
+other's, and looked what words could not have better expressed--"We are
+inseparable, nothing can disunite us but death!"
+
+"I desire you not to interrupt me," commanded Frau von Werrig; "I have
+listened to you, and now you shall listen to me. I promise you to speak
+with more brevity than you have. I will not trouble you with useless
+phrases and tedious lamentations. I will speak to the point. Marie is
+the daughter of General Werrig von Leuthen, whose name would become
+extinct if the grace and favor of the king had not prevented it, by
+permitting the husband whom we have chosen for our daughter to take our
+name, and therewith become our son. You may think, in your arrogance of
+commoner, and the pride you take in having won the love of the daughter
+of General von Leuthen, that you could be this husband and son-in-law.
+But two things fail you: first, the necessary fortune; and, secondly,
+the king's consent, and that of her father. If you were rich, it might
+be possible that we should be touched by the tender amorousness of our
+daughter, and conquer our aversion to you for her sake. You are of low
+birth, and take a subordinate position in society. It would be extremely
+laughable for the schoolmaster Moritz to change suddenly into a Herr von
+Werrig Leuthen. Our son-in-law must be a rich man, in order to be able
+to give his new title consideration; and, fortunately, the wooer of
+my daughter's hand possesses this qualification, and therefore we have
+given our consent. The king has approved our choice, and permits the
+rich banker Ludwig Ebenstreit to become our son-in-law, and take our
+name. The king has in this communication, which lies upon the table, and
+which Marie has heard read, given his assurance to ennoble Ebenstreit
+upon two conditions: first, that the banker should give up his business,
+and live upon his income; and, secondly, that the marriage should not
+take place until the papers of nobility are made out and published, so
+that the daughter of General von Werrig should not make a misalliance.
+You know all now, and you will at last understand that there is but one
+thing for you to do--conquer your foolish presumption, and beg to be
+excused for your unheard-of boldness in forcing yourself into our
+house, and then withdraw quickly. If my ear does not deceive me, your
+accomplice has opened the doors. I think I heard rightly, if my heart
+has no ears, my head possesses better. We have finished. I would again
+enjoin upon you the duty of begging for pardon, and then I close this
+unrefreshing scene with the same words with which it opened--there is
+the door--go out!"
+
+"Yes, there is the door--go out of it! I want to be quiet--go! My
+daughter is the betrothed of the rich banker Herr Ebenstreit; she will
+be his wife as soon as the papers are made out and published.--Go!"
+cried the general.
+
+The young couple still stood there, hand in hand, looking at the
+general, until now their eyes met, beaming with tenderest affection for
+each other. "Is it true, Marie? Speak, my beloved, is it true, will you
+be the wife of this rich man whom your parents have chosen for you?"
+
+"No, Philip," she calmly and firmly replied. "No, I will not, for I do
+not love him, I love only you; and here, in the presence of God and
+my parents, I swear to you that I will be constant to death! They can
+prevent my becoming your wife, but they cannot force me to wed another.
+I swear, then, that if I cannot be yours, I will never marry!"
+
+"I receive your oath, and God has heard it also!" said Moritz, solemnly.
+
+"I have also heard it, and I tell you," said Frau von Werrig, "that this
+romantic heroine will become a perjurer, for I will find means to make
+her break her silly oath."
+
+"We will, perhaps, find means to delay the marriage," said Moritz
+proudly, "or, much more, prevent the marriage ceremony."
+
+"I am very curious to know the means," said Frau von Werrig. "From this
+hour Marie is the betrothed of Herr Ebenstreit, and the wedding will
+take place so soon--"
+
+"So soon as the title of nobility is published. That is it, is the
+clause to be filled; and therefore I tell you, beloved, wait and hope!
+This woman is without pity and without mercy; but God is in heaven, and
+Frederick the Great on the earth. Wait and hope. Be firm in hope,
+and constant in love. Do not lose courage, and let them force you to
+compliance by threats and anger. I have only you to confide in and to
+love in the world, and you are my hope, my goal, and the happiness of my
+life. If you forsake me, I lose my good angel, and am a lost, miserable
+man, whom it would be better to hurl into the deepest abyss than let him
+suffer the torments of hated existence. The knowledge of your love gives
+me strength and courage; it will inspire me to fight like a hero, to
+win the dear, beloved wife, to whom I would yield my life in order to
+receive it anew from her purified and sanctified. The knowledge that I
+had lost you, would ruin me."
+
+Laying both hands upon his shoulder, Marie looked at him with eyes
+beaming with affection, renewing her vow that she would never love or
+marry another. "We will be courageous in hope, and brave in constancy.
+Listen to me, my beloved; listen, my mother--I betrothed myself to this
+dear man! You can prevent my becoming his wife now, but in four years I
+am of age, and then I shall be my own mistress. Then, my dear Philip, I
+will be your wife. Let us wait and hope!"
+
+"Yes, Marie, we will wait and hope.--Farewell! Do not forget that there
+is a great God in heaven, and a great king upon earth.--Farewell!"
+
+He pressed the hand clasped in his own passionately to his tips,
+and felt from the pressure of her delicate fingers a renewed vow of
+constancy. Buoyed with this hope in the sad hour of parting, they were
+happy and joyful. Marie accompanied him to the door--still hand in hand.
+
+"Presume not to go a step farther," commanded her mother, and Marie,
+obedient to her wishes, remained near the door, bowed to Moritz, and
+never ceased to regard him, with love beaming in her eyes, until the
+door closed. Outside stood old Trude, to tell him that she would be
+at the baker's at seven o'clock every morning, and wait for his
+commissions, "and may be I shall have something to bring you," she said.
+"So do come!"
+
+"I will, my good Trude; you are the only person who is friendly to us.
+Watch over my angel, console her with your affection, and when they are
+too hard upon her, come to me."
+
+"I surely will, but listen--they are already quarrelling with my good
+angel. I will go in, to serve as a lightning-rod for dear Marie. I often
+do it, and it pleases me when the lightning strikes, and dashes my hard
+old head to the ground, but does not hurt me at all--Farewell, Herr
+Moritz, the lightning-rod must go in."
+
+Trude entered suddenly and noiselessly the sitting-room, and interrupted
+the angry reproaches which Frau von Werrig hurled against Marie in a
+furious stream of words. The countess's rage turned against Trude, who
+stared as if to challenge her. "What do you want? How dare you enter
+uncalled?"
+
+"I thought you were calling deaf old Trude, or why did you scream so?"
+replied Trude, tartly.
+
+"Perhaps it was the general. Ah! there lies the poor, dear old man,
+groaning and crying, and nobody has any pity for him."
+
+"Ah! Trude, it is good luck that you are here," whined the general. "No
+one troubles himself about me. Quick, bring warm covering for my leg,
+the pain is fearful!"
+
+"Poor, dear father, I will take care of you, I will nurse you," said
+Marie, hastening to him. Her mother pushed her back violently. "Not a
+step farther; you have no right to go near him, you are his murderess.
+On your head will fall the guilt, if these dreadful scenes should cause
+his death."
+
+"No, no, the general will not die quite yet," said Trude busying herself
+about his arm-chair. "But, Fraulein, you have got something else to do
+than stay here. They have already sent for the flowers twice, and the
+French lady is waiting up-stairs to parlez-vous."
+
+Marie looked her friendly thanks, and quietly and quickly left the room.
+
+"Now, bold woman, I have a last word to say to you. Who locked the door
+when that creature came?" "I, madame," answered Trude, who was just
+bringing a great cushion from the back-room to cover the general's feet.
+
+"You acknowledge that you locked the door intentionally?"
+
+"Now, my dear, good Frau von Werrig, one does not lock a door by
+mistake. I did not want Herr Moritz to run away with fright, before you
+had given him your mind, and set his head straight. He would certainly
+have escaped, and only heard the half of your beautiful talk, for he had
+no idea what a miserable fellow he is. So I locked both doors, and he
+was obliged to listen to you, and has gone away contrite and repentant.
+There, there, my poor, dear general, is your foot high enough? Shall I
+not bring the foot-warmer?"
+
+"You shall not bring any thing, nor do any thing more. You are a
+hypocrite, who connives with Moritz. Leave my house this very hour! You
+are dismissed my service. Go pack up your things and be off!" cried Frau
+von Werrig.
+
+"Oh, do not go, Trude, for mercy's sake, for then I have no one to help
+me," cried the general.
+
+"I cannot do otherwise, she has given me my dismissal." Trude approached
+Frau von Werrig respectfully, saying, "So I must pack up and go away at
+once?"
+
+"Immediately, you deceitful creature!"
+
+"Immediately! but Frau von Werrig will be so good as to give me my
+wages."
+
+"Yes," she answered in a slower and more subdued voice. "That shall be
+done presently."
+
+"It will not be so very difficult to reckon them, I have been here
+twenty years; just as many years as Marie is old, for I came as child's
+nurse, and have helped her learn to talk and walk, and played mother
+to the dear child a bit. Then I obtained my wages, for they were good
+times; but the pension-time came, and we had no cook or servant but me.
+'The rats run away if the ship springs a leak,' but the old mole Trude
+stayed. Mankind is in the world to work, I said, and why should not I be
+the cook and waiting-maid too, that my little Marie should not want any
+thing? So I became maid-of-all-work and have stayed here ever since.
+Then, you told me you would double my wages, and give me twenty thalers
+a year, and four thalers at Christmas. Is it not so, Frau von Werrig?"
+
+"I believe that was the agreement."
+
+"I am quite certain about it," cried the general, who began to
+understand the drift of Trude. "Yes, Trude was to have twenty thalers
+a year, and we are owing her many years' wages. You know, wife, I have
+always kept an account-book for the debts, and only a few days ago--Oh!
+oh! the pain! Trude, help me cover up the foot warmer!--we reckoned it
+up a few days ago, and we owe Trude one hundred and thirty thalers."
+
+"One hundred and thirty thalers," repeated Trude, clapping her hands,
+astonished. "Is it true? oh, that is splendid. I shall be rich, and get
+a husband yet. I pray you give it to me, Frau von Werrig, right away."
+
+"Not so quickly," said she, proudly. "We will reckon together how much
+you have saved--because--"
+
+"Oh!" interrupted Trude, "how good you are to make me keep so much; you
+are my savings bank, where I can deposit my money."
+
+"Because," she continued, with emphasis, without noticing the
+interruption, "our future son-in-law will pay your wages, the rich
+banker, Herr Ebenstreit. Yes, the wealthy lover of our daughter. At the
+moment I have not so much cash in the house."
+
+"Your grace will allow me to stay until Herr Ebenstreit is married, and,
+in your name, pays me my wages?"
+
+"Yes, Trude, I will allow you to stay," she replied, very graciously.
+"You will be cunning, Trude, if you try to persuade Marie to accept the
+rich suitor, for when she does I will give you two hundred thalers."
+
+"I will do all I can to get it. Can I remain here until Marie is
+married?"
+
+"Yes, you have my permission for that."
+
+"I thank you, Frau von Werrig. Now, general, I will bring you some warm
+coverings right away."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE.
+
+
+"Now tell me, Wolf," asked Duke Charles Augustus, stretching himself
+comfortably on the sofa, puffing clouds of smoke from his pipe--"are you
+not weary of dawdling about in this infamously superb pile of stones,
+called Berlin? Shall we any longer elegantly scrape to the right and to
+the left, with abominable sweet speeches and mere flattering
+phraseology, in this monster of dust and stone, of sand and sun, parades
+and gaiters? Have you not enough of blustering generals, of affected
+women? and of running about the streets like one possessed to see here a
+miserable church, or there a magnificent palace? Are you not weary of
+crawling about as one of the many, while at home you stride about as the
+only one of the many? And weary also of seeing your friend and pupil
+Carl August put off with fair promises and hollow speeches like an
+insignificant, miserable mortal, without being able to answer with
+thundering invectives. Ah! breath fails me. I feel as if I could load a
+pistol with myself, and with a loud report shoot over to dear Weimar.
+Wolf, do talk, I beg you, I am tired out; answer me."
+
+"I reply, I shoot, my dear Carl," cried Goethe, laughing. "I was out
+of breath myself from that long speech. Was it original with my dear
+prince, or did he memorize it from Klinger's great 'Sturm-und-Drang'
+tragedy? It reminded me of it."
+
+"Do you mean to accuse me of plagiarism, wicked fellow? I grant that you
+are right, my cunning Wolf, it was a lapsus. I did think of Klinger, and
+I sympathized with his youthful hero Wild, who declared that, among the
+sweetest pleasures, he would like to be stretched over a drum, or exist
+in a pistol-barrel, the hand ready to blow him into the air."
+
+Goethe shoved aside the breakfast-table, straightened his delicate form,
+with his noble head proudly erect, and one foot in advance, extended his
+right arm, giving one loud hurrah! "Now, for once, a tumult and noise,
+that thought may turn about like a weathercock. This savage noise has
+already wrought its own benefit. I begin to feel a little better. Rage
+and expand, mad heart, quicken yourself in hurly-burly-burly-burly!"
+[Footnote: From Klinger's tragedy "Sturm und Drang."]
+
+"Bravo! bravo!" laughed the duke. "Is that Klinger, or who is it that
+refreshes himself in hurly-burly?"
+
+"It is I who am every thing," replied Goethe, striding and swaggering up
+and down. "I was an assistant, in order to be something--lived upon the
+Alps, tended the goats, lay under the vault of heaven day and night,
+refreshed by the cool pastures, and burned with the inward fire. No
+peace, no rest anywhere. See, I swell with power and health! I cannot
+waste myself away. I would take part in the campaign here; then can my
+soul expand, and if they do me the service to shoot me down, well and
+good!" [Footnote: From Klinger's tragedy "Sturm und Drang."]
+
+"Bravo! Wild, bravo!" cried the duke. "Hei! that thundered and rolled,
+and struck fire! It does me good to hear such vigorous words from an
+able rare genius in the midst of this miserable, starched elegance. The
+powerful Germans are healthy fellows. Something of the Promethean fire
+blazes forth in them. They were forced to come, those jolly, uproarious
+boys, after the affected cue period; they were the full, luxurious
+plants, and my Wolfgang, the favorite of my heart, my poet and teacher,
+is the divine blossom of this plant. Let them prevail, these 'Sturmer
+und Dranger,' for they are the fathers and brothers of my Wolfgang.
+Do me the sole pleasure not to refine yourself too much, but let this
+divine fire burst forth in volcanic flames, and leave the thundering
+crater uncovered. Sometimes when I see you so simpering, so modest and
+ceremonious, I ask myself, with anxiety, if it is the same Wolfgang
+Goethe, who used to drink 'Smollis' with me at merry bacchanals out of
+death-skulls?--the same with whom I used to practise whip-cracking upon
+the market-place hours long, to the terror of the good citizens?--the
+same who used to dance so nimbly the two-steps, and was inexhaustible
+in mad pranks. Now tell me, Herr Wolfgang, are you yourself, or are you
+another?"
+
+"I am myself, and not myself," answered Goethe, smiling. "There still
+remains a good portion of folly in me, and it must sometimes thunder
+and flash, but I hope the atmosphere of my soul will become clearer,
+and over the crater a more lovely garden will spread out, in which
+beautiful, fragrant flowers will bloom, useful and profitable for my
+friends and myself. Sometimes I long for this as for the promised land;
+then again it foams and thunders in me like fermenting must, which,
+defying all covers and hoops, would froth up to heaven in an immense
+source of mad excitement!"
+
+"Let it froth and foam, and spring the covers, and burst the old casks,"
+cried the duke; "I delight in it, and every infernal noise you make, the
+prouder I am to recognize that from this foaming must will clear itself
+a marvellous wine, a delicious beverage for gods and men, with which the
+world will yet refresh itself, when we are long gone to the kingdom of
+shades--to the something or nothing. You know, Wolf, I love you, and I
+am proud that I have you! It is true that I possess only a little
+duchy, but it is large enough to lead an agreeable and comfortable
+existence--large enough for a little earthly duke, and the great king of
+intellects, Johann Wolfgang Goethe. Let us return to our dear home,
+for I acknowledge to you I sigh for Weimar. I long for the dear little
+place, where every one knows me and greets me, and even for my dogs and
+horses."
+
+"And I," said Goethe, "I really mourn for my Tusculum, which I owe to
+the generous, kind duke; for the balcony of my little cottage, where,
+canopied by the blue, starry vault of heaven, I dream away the lonely
+May nights."
+
+"Is there nothing else you sigh for but the summer-house at Weimar?"
+
+"No!" cried Goethe, and an indescribable expression of rapture and
+delight was manifest in his whole manner.
+
+"No, why should I deny it, how could I? It would be treason to the
+Highest and most Glorious. No, I long for my muse, my mistress, my--"
+
+"Beloved!" interrupted the duke. "I pray you not to be so prudish,
+so reserved. Have the courage to snap your fingers at this infamously
+deceitful moral code, and proud and distinguished as you are, elevate
+yourself above what these miserable earthworms call morality. For the
+eagle there is a different law than for the pigeon. If the eagle soars
+aloft through the ether to his eyry, bearing a lamb in his powerful
+claws, has he not a right to it--the right of superiority and power by
+God's grace? Has he not as much right to the lamb as the pigeon to the
+pea which she finds in the dust? If the pigeon by chance sees the eagle
+with his lamb, she cries, 'Zeter! mordio!' with the pea in her own bill,
+as if she were in a position to judge the eagle."
+
+"A beautiful picture," cried Goethe, joyfully--"a picture that would
+inspire me to indite a poem."
+
+"Write one, and call it for a souvenir 'The Eagle and the Dove.' Make it
+a reality, my eagle youth, bear off the white lamb to your eyry, and let
+the world, with its affected morality, say what it likes. How can
+you bear to see the one you love at the side of another man? Tell me,
+confess to me, is not the beautiful Charlotte von Stein your beloved?"
+
+"Not in the sense you mean, duke, not in the vulgar sense of the word. I
+love her, I adore her, with a pure and holy sentiment. I would not that
+Charlotte should have cause to blush before her children on my account.
+She would be desecrated to me if I, in my inmost soul, could imagine the
+blush of shame upon her cheek, or that her eye could brighten at other
+than great, beautiful, and noble acts. I adore her, and to me she is the
+ideal of the purest and sweetest womanhood. I rejoice that she is as she
+is, like clear mountain crystal--transparent and so brightly pure, that
+one could mirror himself therein. She stands above all other women,
+and to her belong all my thoughts, and would, even if I were wedded to
+another. To me she is the most beautiful of the beautiful, the purest of
+the pure, the most graceful of the graceful, and all my thoughts are in
+perfect harmony with hers. Now, duke, if it is agreeable to you, knowing
+my feelings, to call Charlotte von Stein my beloved, she is so in the
+most elevated sense of the word."
+
+"Ah! you poets, you poets," sighed the duke, smiling.
+
+"A streak of madness in you all, though I will grant that it is divine."
+
+"Say rather that Whit-Sunday comes to us every day, and the divine
+Spirit descends daily upon us poets, and causes us to speak in unknown
+tongues."
+
+"I will say that you are the god Apollo descended from heaven, and with
+gods one may not dare to dispute. They act differently in their sphere
+than we mortals upon earth. I will be contented if our ways cross from
+time to time, and we can once in a while walk on together a good piece
+the way of life in friendship and harmony. If it would please my Wolf,
+I propose to turn toward beloved Weimar, the dear place, half village,
+half city. For my part I am finished here, my business with General von
+Mollendorf is accomplished. As I told you previously, I have had made
+known to the king my refusal to allow recruiting in my duchy. I could
+not consent for the present. In short, I have spoken as my secretary
+Wolfgang Goethe has recorded.[Footnote: This memorial upon recruiting is
+found. "Correspondence of the Grand Duke Carl August and Goethe," part,
+i., p. 4.] General Mollendorf has waived his demand for the present--and
+to-day we have had the concluding conference, and if it is agreeable to
+my secretary, we might set off this afternoon and pass a day at Dessau,
+and then on to Weimar."
+
+"Oh, gladly will I do it; it seems as if a star from heaven had twinkled
+to me to follow it, for at Weimar is centred all my happiness! I prefer
+a lowly cabin there to all the splendor and palaces of a city."
+
+"Then you agree with me, that this magnificently vile Berlin does not
+enchain you in her magic net?"
+
+"No, she holds me not, though it has been pleasant to take a peep into
+it (like a child into a curiosity-box). I have seen 'Old Fritz.' His
+character, his gold, and his silver, his marbles, his apes and parrots,
+and even his town curtains please me. It is pleasant to be at the seat
+of war at the very moment that it threatens to break forth. It has
+gratified me to witness the splendor of the royal city, the life, order,
+and abundance, that would be nothing if thousands of men were not ready
+to be sacrificed; the medley of men, carriages, horses, artillery, and
+all the arrangements. All are mere pins in the great clock-work, only
+puppets whose motion is received from the great cylinder, Fredericus
+Rex, who indicates to each one the melody they must play, according to
+one of the thousand pins in the rotary beam."[Footnote: Goethe's own
+words.--See Goethe's "Correspondence with Frau von Stein," part i., p.
+168. Riemer, "Communications about Goethe," part ii., p. 60.]
+
+"You are right to compare the great man to the chief cylinder in the
+machine of state," nodded the duke "He rules and sets all in motion,
+and cares not whether the rabble are suited or not. It has enraged me
+sometimes to hear the fellows curse him, and yet I acted as if I heard
+them not. Let us return to Weimar--mankind seems better there, Wolf."
+
+"At any rate, more regardful of us than they are here, duke. The greater
+the world the uglier the farce; no obscenities and fooleries of the
+buffoon are more disgusting than the characters of the great, mediocre
+and insignificant, all mingled together. I prayed this morning for
+courage to hold out to the end, and to hasten the consummation. I am
+grateful for the benefit of the journey--but I pray the gods not to
+conduct themselves toward us as their image-man, for I should swear
+to them eternal hatred."[Footnote: Goethe's own words.--See Goethe's
+"Correspondence with Frau von Stein," part i., p. 169.]
+
+"Then you are ready to depart, Wolf?"
+
+"Almost, dear Carl, or, if you will it, quite ready. A few visits I
+would make, that the people shall not be too severe upon me and cry out
+against my pride and arrogance."
+
+"Because they themselves are proud and supercilious, they are bold
+enough to suppose Wolfgang Goethe is like them. I hope you will not
+visit the very learned Herr Nicolai, the insipid prosaist, the puffed-up
+rationalist, who believes that his knowledge permits him to penetrate
+every thing, and who is a veritable ass."
+
+"No, I am not going to Nicolai, Rammler, or Engel, or, as they should be
+named, the wise authors of Berlin. I shall visit the artist Chodowiecki,
+good Karschin, occasional poetess, and the philosopher Mendelssohn.
+Then, if it pleases you, we will set out this afternoon, shaking the
+sand of Berlin from our feet."
+
+"I shall prepare whilst you make your visits. Will you take my carriage?
+You know there is one from the royal stables always at my service, which
+stands at the door."
+
+"Beware! they would shriek if I should drive to their doors in a royal
+carriage. They would accuse me of throwing aside the poet, and being
+only secretary of legation. I will go on foot; it amuses me to push my
+way through the crowd, and listen to the Berlin jargon."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. GOETHE'S VISITS.
+
+
+Taking leave of his ducal friend, Goethe betook himself the street, to
+commence his visits. Going first to Chodowiecki, the renowned delineator
+and engraver, whose fame had already spread throughout Germany. When
+Goethe entered, the artist was busy in his atelier, working upon the
+figures of the characters in the "Mimic," the latest work of Professor
+Engel. "Master," said he, smilingly, extending him his hand, "I have
+come to thank you for many beautiful, happy hours which I owe to you.
+You paint with the chisel and poetize with the brush. An artist by God's
+grace."
+
+"If the poet Goethe says that, there must be something in it," replied
+Chodowiecki, with a radiant face. "I have to thank you for the most
+beautiful and best hours of my life, and I am proud and delighted to
+have been able in the least to return the pleasure. The only blissful
+tears among many bitter ones that I have wept, were shed over the
+'Sorrows of Werther.' 'Gotz von Berlichingen' so inspired me that he
+appeared to me in my dreams, and left me no peace until I rose in the
+night to draw Gotz, as he sat talking with brother Martin on the bench
+in the forest. Wait, I will show you the drawing; you must see it."
+
+Goethe examined it attentively, and expressed his pleasure at the
+correctness and dramatical conception of the design, and did not remark,
+or perhaps would not, that the artist was busily occupied with crayon
+and paper. "How wonderfully you have reproduced my 'German Knight,'"
+cried Goethe, after a long observation of it. "The middle ages entire,
+proud and full of strength, are mirrored in this figure, and if I had
+not written 'Gotz von Berlichingen,' I would have been inspired to it,
+perhaps, from this drawing. Oh! you artists are to be envied. We need
+many thousand words to express what a few lines represent, and a stroke
+suffices to change a smiling face into a weeping one. How feeble is
+language, and how mighty the pencil! I wish I had the talent to be a
+painter!"
+
+"And I," cried Chodowiecki, "would throw all my pencils, brushes, and
+chisels to the devil, or sell him my soul, if I could cope with the
+genius and intellect of the poet, Wolfgang Goethe. What a man! What a
+profile the gods have given him! There! look--have you ever seen a man
+with such a face?" He handed Goethe the drawing, which proved to be a
+speaking profile-portrait of himself, dashed off with a few strokes full
+of genius.
+
+Goethe looked at it with the air of a critic. "It is true," said he,
+perfectly serious, "there are not many such profiles, but I am not of
+your opinion that the gods fashioned it. Those sharp features look as
+if the joiner had cut them out of oak, and they lead me to infer a
+very disagreeable character. I naturally do not know who the picture
+represents, but I must tell you, master, that this man could never
+please me, although I could swear it is a speaking likeness. This sharp,
+bowed nose has something impudent, self-sufficient in it. The brow is
+indeed high, which betokens thought, but the retreating lines prove
+that the thoughts only commence, and then lose themselves in a maze. The
+mouth, with its pouting lips, has an insupportable expression of stupid
+good-nature and sentimentality; and the well-defined, protruding chin
+might belong to the robber-captain Cartouche. The great wide-open eyes,
+with their affected passionate glances, prove what a puffed-up dandy the
+man must be, who perhaps imagines all the women in love with his face.
+No, no, I am still of the opinion that the original could never please
+me, and if the physiognomist Lavater should see it, he would say: 'That
+is the portrait of a puffed-up, quaint, powerful genius, who imagines
+himself something important, and who is nothing! The likeness of a
+bombastic fellow, with an empty head behind the pretentious brow, and
+meaningless phrases on the thick lips.'"
+
+"If Lavater says so, he is a fool and an ass," cried Chodowiecki,
+furiously, "and he can hide himself in the remotest corner of the
+earth. Lichtenberg of Gottingen is quite right when he says that this
+empty-headed Lavater has made himself ridiculous throughout Germany with
+his wonderful physiognomy of dogs' tails and his profiles of unknown
+pigtails. If Lavater is really so narrow-minded as not to be able to
+distinguish a crow from an eagle, it is his own affair; but he shall
+never presume to look at this portrait, and you, too, are not worthy,
+you scorner, that I should get angry with you. The likeness is so
+beautiful that Jupiter himself would be satisfied to have it imputed to
+him. It is so like, that you need not pretend you do not know that it
+represents Wolfgang Goethe. As you insult it, and regard it with scorn
+and contempt, I will destroy it."
+
+"For mercy's sake do not tear it," cried Goethe, springing toward
+Chodowiecki, and holding him fast with a firm grasp. "My dear good man,
+do not tear it; it would be like splitting my own head."
+
+"Ah, ah!" shouted Chodowiecki, "you acknowledge the likeness?"
+
+"I do acknowledge it, with joy."
+
+"And will you admit that it is the head of a noble, talented poet, a
+favorite of the Muses? Say yes, or I will tear it, and you will have
+terrible pains in your head your life long!"
+
+"Yes, yes! all that you wish. I am capable of saying the most flattering
+things of myself to save this beautiful design. Give it to me, you
+curious fellow!"
+
+"No," said Chodowiecki, earnestly, "I will not give it to you. Such a
+portrait is not made to be put in a dusty portfolio, or framed for the
+boudoir of your lady-love. All Germany, all the world should enjoy it,
+and centuries later the German women will still see Wolfgang Goethe as
+he looked in his twenty-ninth year, and hang an engraving on the wall in
+their parlor, and sighing and palpitating acknowledge--'There never was
+but one such godlike youth, and there never will be another. I wish that
+I had known him; I wish he had loved me!' So will they speak centuries
+later, for I will perpetuate this drawing in a steel engraving of my
+most beautiful artistic work." [Footnote: This engraving from the
+artist Chodowiecki still exists, and the author of this work possesses
+a beautiful copy, which Ottille von Goethe sent her. It is a bust in
+profile, the most beautiful of his youth.]
+
+"You are a splendid fellow, and I must embrace you, and rejoice to be
+immortalized by you, for this portrait pleases me exceedingly. I might
+well be proud that this head with the rare profile is a counterpart of
+my own. Now we are good friends. Before I say farewell, let me see the
+work at which I just disturbed you upon entering."
+
+Goethe was about to raise the cloth, when Chodowiecki waved him back.
+"Do not look at it," said he, quickly; "I dislike to appear as a
+mechanic before you, as I wish that you should honor only the artist. We
+poor toilers are badly off, as the old proverb is ever proving true with
+us, 'Art goes for bread.' We must be mechanics the chief part of our
+lives, in order to have a few hours free, in which we are allowed to
+be artists. I have to illustrate the most miserable works with my
+engravings, to buy the time to pursue works of art."
+
+"That is the interest, friend, which you pay the world for the
+great capital which the gods confided to you. Believe me, the artist
+Chodowiecki would have but a morsel to eat if the mechanic Chodowiecki
+did not serve him a tempting meal, paying the bill. Do not be vexed
+about it; man must have a trade to support him, as art is never
+remunerated. [Footnote: Goethe's words--See G. H. Lewes's "Goethe's Life
+and Writings," vol. 1., p. 459.] I hope the mechanic will be well paid,
+that the artist may create beautiful and rare works for us. This is my
+farewell visit to-day, friend. If you will hear a welcome from me very
+soon, come to Weimar, and see how one honors the artists there, and how
+well appreciated Chodowiecki is."
+
+Goethe embraced and kissed the artist, who regarded him, his face
+radiant with joy, and would not be prevented from accompanying him
+to the house door, as if he were a prince or a king. "Now to Madame
+Karschin," said Goethe to himself, as he hastened through the streets
+in that direction. "The good woman has welcomed me with so many pretty
+verses that I must make my acknowledgments, in spite of my decision to
+keep the Berlin authors at a distance."
+
+From Wilhelm Street, where Chodowiecki lived, to the tilt-yard, was not
+far, and Goethe soon reached the old, antiquated house where the poetess
+lived. After many questionings and inquiries at the lower stories
+and more splendid apartments of the house, he found the abode of the
+poetess, and climbed up the steep stairs to the slanting attic-room. The
+dim light of a small window permitted Goethe to read upon a gray piece
+of paper, pasted upon the door, 'Anna Louisa Karsch, German poetess.'
+He knocked modestly at the door at first, then louder, and as the voices
+within never ceased for a moment their animated conversation, he opened
+it, and entered the obscure room.
+
+"I will do it, sir," said the little woman sitting in the window-niche
+near a table to a young man standing near her. "I will do it, though I
+must tell you album writing is very common. But you must promise me to
+return here, and let me see what Herr Rammler writes, and tell me what
+he says about me. These are my conditions."
+
+"Frau Karschin, I promise you, upon the word of honor of a German youth,
+who can never lower himself to break his word."
+
+"Very well! then I will write."
+
+There was perfect silence. The youth watched the little, dry hand which
+guided the pen, with a devotional mien, and Goethe with eager curiosity,
+who, unobserved, stood like a suppliant at the door of the obscure
+little room, the shabby furniture of which betrayed the narrow
+circumstances of the German poetess. It harmonized with the occupant,
+a little, bony, meagre figure, wearing a tight-fitting blue-flowered
+chintz dress. Upon the gray hair, which, parted in the middle, encircled
+the low forehead, was a cap, which had lost its whiteness and was,
+therefore, more in harmony with the ruff about her yellow, thin neck.
+Her sharp, angular features were redeemed by large, dark eyes, flashing
+with marvellous brilliancy from under the thick, gray eyebrows, and
+with quick, penetrating glances she sometimes turned them to the ceiling
+thoughtfully as she wrote. "There, sir, is my poem," said she, laying
+down the pen. "Listen:
+
+     'Govern your will;
+     If it hinders duty,
+     It fetters virtue;
+     Then envy beguiles
+     Into fault-finding.'"
+
+"Oh, how beautiful, cried the young man, enraptured. "I thank you a
+thousand times for those glorious words, and they shall henceforth be
+the guiding star of my existence."
+
+"Go to Professor Rammler, and: then return and show me what he writes,
+for I am convinced--. Oh, Heavens! there is a stranger," she cried, as
+she discovered Goethe, who had remained standing by the door.
+
+"Yes, a stranger," said Goethe, smiling, and approaching, as the happy
+possessor of the album withdrew--"a stranger would not leave Berlin
+without visiting the German poetess."
+
+"And without verses in your album; is it not so? I have become the
+fashion, and if I could only live by immortalizing myself in your
+albums, I should be free from care. Now I have divined it--you wish an
+autograph?"
+
+"No! only a good word, and a friendly shake of the hand, for I possess
+a poem and a letter which the good Frau Karschin sent me at Weimar some
+six months since, written by herself."
+
+"Is it Goethe?" she cried, clasping her hands in astonishment. "The poet
+Johann Wolfgang Goethe, the renowned author of the work which--"
+
+"Cost you many tears," broke in Goethe, laughing. "I beg you spare me
+these phrases, which follow me upon my journey as the Furies Orestes.
+I know that 'Werther' has become the favorite of the reading public; he
+has opened all the tear-ducts and made all lovers of moonlight as
+soft as a swaddling-cloth. I could punish myself for having written
+'Werther.'"
+
+Frau Karschin laughed aloud. "That is glorious! You please me! You are
+a famous poet and a genius, for only geniuses can revise and ridicule
+themselves. Welcome, Germany's greatest poet, welcome to the attic of
+the poetess! There is the good word which you would have, and here is
+the hand. Did you think it worth while to visit poor Karschin? I am
+rejoiced at it, for I see that they accused you unjustly of arrogance
+and pride!"
+
+"Do they accuse me of it?" asked Goethe, smiling. "Can the Berlin poets
+and authors never forgive me that I live at a court, and am honored with
+the favor of a prince?"
+
+"They would willingly forgive you if they had the power to push you one
+side, and take your place. They are angry with you, because they envy
+you and are not accustomed to be esteemed. Our prince and ruler, as
+great a hero and king as he otherwise is, cares little for German
+poetry, and for all he would care, the Berlin authors might starve,
+one and all; he would trouble himself no more about them than the flies
+dancing in the sunlight."
+
+"The great king is still the same, then? He will never know anything of
+German literature?"
+
+"No! he declares that it is the language of barbarians and
+bear-catchers; scolds about us, and despises us, and yet knows as little
+of us as the man in the moon. He adores his Voltaire. Old Fritz knows
+the French poet by heart, but Lessing he knows nothing of. He abuses
+'Goetz von Berlichingen,' and 'Werther's Sorrows.'"
+
+"Oh! I know it all--I know the king's adjutant-general, von Siedlitz. I
+often dine with him, and read aloud my poems to him, when he relates
+to me what the king says to enrage me. You must know when I am angry
+I speak in verse. I accustomed myself to it during my unhappy marriage
+with the tailor Karsch. When he scolded, I answered in verse, and tried
+to turn my thoughts to other things, and to make the most difficult
+rhymes. As he was always scolding and quarrelling, I always spoke in
+rhyme."
+
+"And in this way you led a very poetical marriage?" smiled Goethe.
+
+"Yes, indeed, poetical," she said, and her large brilliant eyes were
+dimmed. "If it is true that tears are the baptism of poets, then I
+was baptized daily for twelve years, and ought to be an extraordinary
+poetess."
+
+"That you are, indeed," said Goethe, "who would dispute it? You have
+given evidence of great poetical talent, and I read your heroic poem
+upon the Great Frederick with real delight."
+
+"Do you know what he did?" she asked, bitterly. "I turned to him,
+begging for assistance; for who should a poet turn to, but his God and
+his king? Moreover, he had promised it to me personally."
+
+"You have spoken with him, then, yourself?" asked Goethe.
+
+"Yes, eight years ago; General von Siedlitz procured me an audience. The
+king was very gracious, and among other things, asked me about my life;
+and as I explained to him my poverty and want, he most kindly promised
+to help me." [Footnote: This interview which Frau Karschin had with the
+king is found in "Anecdotes and Traits of Character of Frederick the
+Great." vol. ii., p. 72.]
+
+"And did he not fulfil his promise?"
+
+"No, had it been given to the least of the French writers he would have
+kept it, but to a German poet it was not worth while. What is a native
+poet to the great German king? A phantom that he knows not, and believes
+not. As great as he is, the king showed himself very small to me. I sang
+him as a poetess and he bestowed a pittance upon me as one would to a
+beggar in tatters by the wayside."
+
+"Is it really true, upon your supplication--"
+
+"Sent me two thalers! Yes, that is indeed true, and I see by your smile
+that you know it, and know also that I returned it to him. I had rather
+die with hunger than take a beggar's penny. But let me relate to you
+what happened two weeks since. I had borne patiently the affair of
+the two thalers, and forgotten it. I am more comfortable now; the
+booksellers pay me for my songs and poems very well, and a number of
+patrons and friends, at whose head is the Prince of Prussia, give me a
+small pension, from which I can at least live--though poorly. One of my
+patrons sent me a strip of land on the Spree not far from the Hercules
+Bridge, where I would gladly build me a little house, at last to have a
+sure abiding-place where I could retire--that would be a refuge against
+all the troubles and sorrows of life. As I thought it over, the old
+confidence and imperishable love for the great king rose again within
+me, and as I esteemed him I always hoped for the fulfilment of his
+promise. I applied to him again, and begged him to do for me what he
+had granted to so many cobblers and tailors, as the king gives
+building-money to help those who will build. All the houses of the
+Gensdarmen-markt are built by royal aid, and sometimes the king designs
+the facades, as he did for the butcher Kuhn's great house; and sent
+him a design to ornament the frieze of ninety-nine, sheeps' heads, only
+ninety-nine, for he said the butcher himself was the one hundredth. The
+butcher remonstrated, but he was obliged to keep them, if he would have
+the building-money."
+
+"Really," cried Goethe, laughing, "the king is an ingenious and
+extraordinary man in every thing, and no one is like him."
+
+"No one is like him, and no one would have treated me as he did. I
+addressed to him a poem, begging him with true inspiration and emotion
+to let a German poetess find favor in his sight--and that he would be
+for me a Maecenas, if I were not a Horace. My heart bled with sorrow,
+that I must so beg and pray, and my tears wet the paper upon which I
+indited my begging, rhyming petition. How much money do you think the
+great king sent me for my house? Think of the smallest sum."
+
+"If it was small, yet for building-money he would send you at least two
+hundred thalers."
+
+The poetess burst into a scornful laugh. "He sent me three thalers! The
+great Frederick sent me three thalers to build a house!"
+
+"What did you do? Did you take them?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, proudly, "and I will leave them as a legacy to my
+daughter, as an historical souvenir for succeeding generations, who will
+relate the benevolence of the German king for the German poetess. I sent
+the king a receipt--I will read it to you.
+
+"'His majesty commanded, Instead of building-money, To send me three
+thalers. The order was exactly, Promptly fulfilled. I am indebted for
+thanks, But for three thalers can No joiner in Berlin My coffin make.
+Otherwise to-morrow I would order Such a house without horror Where
+worms feast, And, feasting, quarrel Over the lean, care-worn Old woman's
+remains That the king let sigh away.'" [Footnote: See "Life and Poems of
+Louisa Karschin," edited by her daughter.]
+
+"Why do you not laugh?" said Frau Karschin, raising her flashing eyes to
+Goethe, who sat looking down earnestly and quietly before her.
+
+"I cannot," he gently answered. "Your poem makes me sad; it recalls the
+keen sorrow of a poet's existence, the oft-repeated struggle between
+Ideality and Reality. The blessed of the gods must humble themselves;
+though they may raise their heads to heaven, their feet must still rest
+upon earth; and to find their way upon it, and walk humbly therein, they
+must again lower their inspired heads."
+
+"Oh, that makes me feel better," cried Karschin, with tears in her eyes;
+"that is balsam for my wounds. You are a great poet, Goethe, I feel it
+to be so. You are a great man, for your heart is good and filled with
+pity. How unjustly they call you cold and proud! Only be a little more
+yielding, and call upon the Berlin poets and writers. You can imagine
+that the news of your arrival ran like wild-fire through the town.
+Nicolai, Rammler, Engel, Mendelssohn, and all the other distinguished
+gentlemen have stayed at home like badgers in their kennels, watching
+for you, so as not to miss your visit. At last they became desperate,
+and scolded furiously over your arrogance and pride in thinking yourself
+better than they. Why have you not called upon them?"
+
+There was a loud knocking at the door, and the young man with his album
+entered, almost breathless. "Here I am," said he, "I came directly from
+Professor Rammler here, as I promised you."
+
+"You saw him, then? Has he written something for you?"
+
+"Yes, I saw him, and he granted my request."
+
+"And abused me, did he not, with his nose turned up? You must know,
+Goethe, that Professor Rammler despises my poems, because I am not so
+learned in Greek and Roman mythology as he is. Now tell me, my young
+friend, what did he say about me?"
+
+"I promised you, upon my word of honor, to tell you every thing, but I
+hope you will release me from the promise." sighed the young man.
+
+"No, that I will not. Much more, upon the strength of your word of
+honor, I desire it. You promised, word for word, to relate it to me."
+
+"If it must be, then, let it be. I went at once to Professor Rammler's.
+He asked me immediately if I had not been here."
+
+"Just as I asked you," laughed Karschin.
+
+"I affirmed it, saying that you showed me his house. Upon which he
+asked, 'Did she say any thing against me? She is accustomed to do it
+before strangers, like all old women.' He then turned over my album, and
+as he saw the lines you wrote he reddened, and striking the book--'I see
+it, she knew she had said something about me. She tells every stranger
+that I think she is censorious. What she has written is aimed at me.'
+Upon that he wrote some lines opposite yours, shut the book, and handed
+it to me. I have not even had the time to read them."
+
+"Read them now, quickly."
+
+"'He who slanders and listens to slander, let him be punished. She may
+be hung by the tongue, and he by the ears.'" [Footnote: This scene took
+place literally, and may be found in "Celebrated German Authors," vol.
+II., p. 340.]
+
+"That is shameful--that is mean!" said Frau Karschin, while Goethe
+re-read the cutting epigram. "That is just like Rammler; his tongue is
+like a two-edged sword for every one but himself, and he fans his
+own glories, and does not know that he is a fool. Frederick the Great
+himself called him so. One of his generals called his attention to
+him, upon which Frederick turned his horse, riding directly up to him,
+asking, 'Is this the distinguished Rammler?' 'Yes, your majesty, I am
+he,' the little professor proudly bowed. 'You are a fool!' called out
+Frederick, very loud, and rode away, as all around the 'Great Rammler'
+laughed and sneered. There are many such stories. Shall I tell you how
+Lessing teased him?"
+
+"No, dear woman, tell me nothing more. I perceive your Berlin writers
+and poets are a malicious, contentious set of people. I may well fear
+you, and shall be glad to escape unharmed. Think kindly of me, and have
+pity upon me; if the others are too severe, raise your dear hand and
+hold back the scourge that it may not fall upon poor Wolfgang Goethe.
+Adieu, dear Frau Karschin."
+
+Goethe bowed, and hastened down into the street. "With the authors and
+poets of Berlin I wish nothing more to do, but with the philosophers
+I may be more fortunate, and with them find the wisdom and forbearance
+which fail the poets."
+
+Goethe bent his steps to Spandauer Street, in which the merchant
+and philosopher Moses Mendelssohn lived; hastened up the stairs, and
+knocked, which was answered by an old servant, to whom Goethe announced
+himself. The servant disappeared, and the poet stood in the little,
+narrow corridor, smilingly looking to the study-door, and waiting for
+the "gates of wisdom" to open and let the worldling enter the temple of
+philosophy.
+
+The crooked little man, the great philosopher, Moses, son of
+Mendelssohn, stood behind the door, turning over in his mind whether
+he would receive Goethe or not. "Why should I? The proud secretary of
+legation has already been in Berlin eight days, and wishes to prove to
+me that he cares little for Berlin philosophers. My noble friend,
+the great Lessing, cannot abide 'Gotz von Berlichingen;' and Nicolai,
+Rammler, and Engel are the bitter opponents, the very antipodes of the
+rare genius and secretary of legation from Weimar. If he wishes to see
+me, why did he come so late, so--"
+
+"Herr Goethe is waiting--shall he enter?" asked the servant.
+
+The philosopher raised his head. "No," cried he, loudly. "No! tell him
+you were mistaken. I am not at home."
+
+The old servant looked quite frightened at his master--the first time he
+had heard an untruth from him. "What shall I say, sir?"
+
+"Say no," cried Moses, very excited and ill-humored. "Say that I am not
+at home--that I am out."
+
+With a determined, defiant manner the philosopher seated himself to work
+upon his new book, "Jerusalem," saying to himself, "I am right to send
+him away; he waited too long, is too late." [Footnote: From Ludwig Tieck
+I learned this anecdote, and he assured me that Moses Mendelssohn
+told it to him.--See "Goethe in Berlin, Leaves of Memory," p. 6.--The
+Authoress.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. FAREWELL TO BERLIN.
+
+
+"What is the matter, my dear Wolf?" cried the duke, as Goethe returned
+from his visits. "What mean those shadows upon your brow? Have the
+cursed beaux-esprits in Berlin annoyed and tortured you?"
+
+"No, duke, I--" and suddenly stopping, he burst into a loud ringing
+laugh, and sprang about the room, bounding up and down, shouting,
+"Hurrah! hurrah! Long live the philosophers, vivat the philosophers!"
+
+"They shall live--live--live,'' shouted the duke!
+
+"Vivat the philosophers! hurrah! To the May-sports upon the Blockberg
+they ride upon a little ass with golden horns--with Pharisaical mien,
+praying with their eyes, 'I thank Thee, O Lord, that I am a philosopher,
+that I am not as the world's children, vain, proud, and arrogant.' Hey,
+good Carl Augustus, today a great revelation has been made known to me
+by a philosopher. Wisdom flowed from his mouth. All the spiders in their
+gray, self-woven nets, whispered and sang in his corridor, 'We weave at
+the fountain of life, we spin the web of time.' The little mice crept
+out from the corners, whispering, Hallelujah! Here lives the great
+philosopher Moses, who has devoured wisdom, and is unknowing of earthly
+vanities. Oh! the mice and the spiders waltz together upon the threshold
+of the great philosopher. Hey, ha! a waltz we will dance!"
+
+Goethe caught the duke with both arms around the waist, and tore around
+in a giddy whirl, both laughing, both shrieking. Wolfshund, the duke's
+dog, asleep in the corner, sprang up howling and barking at their wild
+bounds and goat-like springs, and joined the dancers. As Goethe felt
+the ribbon which confined his cue give way, he shook wildly his curly,
+powdered hair and it fell in mad confusion. Both he and the duke now
+sank exhausted to the floor, panting and laughing.
+
+"Heaven be praised, Wolf," said the duke, "the must has once more
+fermented, and sprung a few of the hoops of dignity?"
+
+"Yes," answered Goethe, who suddenly assumed a grave, serious mien, "the
+must has fermented, and I trust a fine wine will clear itself from it."
+
+"Can you not set off, Wolf?" asked the duke, springing up. "Have you had
+sufficient of the Berliners?"
+
+"I have done with them," replied Goethe, "not only with the Berliners,
+but it may be with all the rest of humanity. I feel, my duke, that the
+bloom of confidence, candor, and self-sacrificing love fades daily;
+only for you, and the friend whom I love, is there still attraction and
+flagrancy. Oh! you dear ones, be charitable, and do not consent that
+they fade for you. Let the goodness which I read in your eyes, my
+dear Carl, and the sunny rays of friendship strengthen the poor
+little blossom, that it does not entirely fade and wither away!" With
+passionate earnestness he threw his arms around the duke, pressing him
+to his bosom.
+
+"Oh! Wolf, my dear Wolf, you have a child's heart and a poet's soul. Are
+you faint-hearted and dispirited? Do you not know that you are the sun
+which brings forth the flowers for us, and shines for us all? Let no
+clouds overshadow you, Wolf! Let your fresh, youthful vigor, and divine
+brilliancy, penetrate them. In the thick, sandy atmosphere of Berlin I
+confess the sun itself loses its force and brightness! Come! let us be
+off. Our steeds stamp with impatience." The duke drew his friend from
+the room and joyfully they sprang down the stairs to the carriage, the
+great dog following, howling and barking after them. "Forward, then,
+forward! Blow, postilion, blow! A gay little air! Let it peal through
+the streets, a farewell song! Blow, postilion, blow! and I will moisten
+your throat at the gates with the thin, white stuff, which you have the
+boldness to call beer." The postilion laughed for joy, and the German
+song resounded in quivering tones--"Three riders rode out of the gate."
+He blew so long and loudly, that the dog set up a mournful howl, and
+amid the peals of the postilion, and the distressed cry of Wolfshund,
+they drove through the long, hot streets of Berlin, through the Leipsic
+Gate, and the suburbs with their small, low houses. The wagon-wheels
+sank to the spokes in the loose, yellow sand of the hill they soon
+mounted, and, arriving at the top of which, the postilion stopped to let
+his horses take breath, and turned to remind his aristocratic passengers
+that this was their last view of the city.
+
+"And will be seen no more," repeated the duke. "Come, let us take a
+farewell look at Berlin, Wolf!" and away they sprang without waiting for
+the footman to descend, and waded through the sand to a rising in the
+fallow fields. There they stood, arm in arm, and viewed the town with
+its towers and chimneys, houses, barracks, and palaces stretched at
+their feet. A thick, gray, cloud of vapor and smoke hovered over it,
+and veiled the horizon in dust and fog. "Farewell, Berlin, you city of
+arrogance and conceit!" cried the duke, joyfully. "I shake your dust
+from my feet, and strew the sand of your fields over every souvenir of
+you in memory," and suiting the action to his words, he tossed a handful
+of it in the air.
+
+"Farewell, Muses and Graces of sand and dust!" cried Goethe, as his
+fiery eye flashed far out over the fog-enveloped roofs. "Farewell,
+Berlin, void of nature and without verdure! the abode of poetic art, but
+not of poesy. You Babylon of wisdom and philosophy, I have seen you
+with your painted cheeks and coquettish smile, your voluptuous form and
+seductive charms. You shall never ensnare me with your deceitful beauty,
+and suck the marrow from my bones, or the consciousness of pure humanity
+from my soul. Beautiful may you be to enslaved intellects, but to the
+free, they turn their backs to you and thrice strew ashes on your head.
+Farewell, Berlin, may I never see you again!" [Goethe, in fact, never
+visited Berlin again, though he was often invited there, particularly
+when the new theatre was opened, with a poetic prologue written by
+himself. They inaugurated the festivity with Goethe's "Iphigenia," the
+first representation, and Prince Radzwill urgently invited the poet,
+through Count Bruhl, to visit Berlin at this time, and reside in his
+palace. But Goethe refused; he was seventy-two years old (1826), and
+excused himself on account of his age.] Goethe stooped and threw a
+handful of sand in the air.
+
+The postilion, tired of standing in the burning sun, blew loudly the air
+of the soldier's song: "Now, adieu, Louisa, wipe your face, every ball
+does not hit." Mournfully the melody sounded in the stillness, like
+accusing spirits who wept the insult of the prince and the poet.
+
+"Now, on to our dear Weimar, Wolf!" The carriage rolled down the sandy
+hill, and Berlin disappeared to the travellers, lost in dreamy thought.
+Slowly they advanced, in spite of relays and fresh horses at every
+station. Night spread out her starry mantle over the world, and the
+sleepers who rested from the burdens and cares of the day. Goethe alone
+was wakeful and vigilant. With his beautiful eyes, as brilliant as
+fallen stars, uplifted to heaven, to God, his manly bosom heaving with
+noble thoughts and glorious aspirations, he reviewed the past, and
+recalled with joy that he had accomplished much and well. He peered into
+the future, and promised himself to do more and better. "Yes, I will,"
+whispered he softly, pointing to the stars; "so high as possible
+shall the pyramid of my being rise. To that I will constantly bend my
+thoughts, never forgetting it, for I dare not tarry; with the years
+already on my head, fate may arrest my steps, and the tower of Babylon
+remain unfinished. At least they must acknowledge the edifice was boldly
+designed, and if I live, God willing, it shall rise."
+
+
+
+
+BOOK III. STORM AND PRESSURE
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT.
+
+
+Frederick commenced the campaign against the house of Hapsburg with all
+the energy and bold courage of former days. The diplomats had once
+more been permitted to seek the arts of negotiation, and, these
+having failed, the king advanced rapidly, and entered Bohemia with his
+advance-guard. The imperial army, informed of the approach of the enemy,
+retired hurriedly to their intrenchments at Koeniggratz, beyond the
+Elbe, without a decisive battle. In the skirmishes at the outposts the
+Prussians had been victorious. On the opposite shore of the Elbe, at
+Welsdorf, the king took up his headquarters. Why did he not pursue his
+bold run of victory? Why did he not surprise the imperial army, which he
+knew was scattered, and not in a position to resist the strength of the
+Prussian forces? Moreover, the second column of the Prussian army, under
+the command of Prince Henry, had also entered Bohemia, and fortified a
+camp near Rimburg, having united with the Saxon allies, which caused the
+imperialists under Field-Marshal Loudon to seek protection beyond the
+Iser, near Muenchengratz and Yung-bunzlau. Why did the king then stop
+in the midst of his victorious career? He had advanced to the field
+with his fresh, youthful fire, a shining example to all. He was always
+mounted, shunning no danger, but taking part in the hardships and
+fatigue incident to the changing life of war; even showing himself
+personally active at the discovery of foraging-parties. Why did he
+suddenly hesitate and lie inactive in camp? Why did he not summon his
+generals and staff-officers to his quarters, instead of his Minister von
+Herzberg? Every one asked himself the question, and every one answered
+it differently.--Some said, "Because the Empress of Russia had raised
+objections to this war of German brothers;" others, that "the King of
+the French had offered to settle the quarrel as intermediator." A third
+said, the "empress-queen, Maria Theresa, was terrified at the rapid
+advance of the Prussians, and had immediately commenced negotiations for
+peace."
+
+While the wise politicians of Germany and all Europe read and pondered,
+Frederick tarried quietly in his peasant-house, in which he had taken up
+his quarters, and which had been arranged very comfortably with
+carpets, camp-stools, and curtains. He sat in his cabinet upon the
+high, leather-covered arm-chair, which had been brought for him from the
+neighboring parsonage. Alkmene lay upon his knee, and Diana at his feet.
+His countenance was pale, and betrayed fatigue, but his eye beamed with
+undimmed brilliancy, and around his mouth played an ironical smile.
+"Well, so matters stand; therefore, I have summoned you to Welsdorf,"
+said Frederick to his minister, Von Herzberg. "The empress-queen is,
+above all things, a most tender mother. She is fearfully anxious, now
+that the dear young Emperor Joseph has left for the army, and will be
+exposed to the dangers of war. My good friends in Vienna inform me that
+my entrance into Bohemia created a sensation at the brilliant capital,
+and had so much alarmed the empress-queen, that she was seriously
+thinking of negotiating for peace. As I learned this from a reliable
+source, I halted and encamped, that the empress should know where to
+find me, and sent to summon you immediately. I had not been here three
+days, when the empress's ambassador, Baron von Thugut, appeared to make
+offers, and consult about an armistice of two weeks. I made known my
+conditions, and promised the empress, through her negotiator, that I
+would so calculate my movements that her majesty would have nothing
+to fear for her blood and her cherished emperor. [Footnote: The king's
+words.--See "Prussia, Frederick the Great," vol. iv., p. 102.] Voila,
+mon cher ministre, you know all now. If the Austrian diplomat comes a
+second time, you can negotiate with him."
+
+"Is your majesty also inclined to peace?" asked Herzberg.
+
+The king shrugged his shoulders. "When it can be arranged with honor,
+yes," said he. "I will acknowledge, Herzberg, to you, the campaign is
+hard for me. The old fellow of sixty-eight feels the burden of life, and
+would gladly rest quietly, and enjoy the last few years as philosopher
+and writer instead of soldier."
+
+"Your majesty has yet many years to live, God willing," cried Herzberg.
+"It would be a great misfortune to Prussia if she could not yet owe to
+her great king a long and happy reign."
+
+"Hem!" replied the king, "there are in Prussia very many who think
+otherwise, and wish me to the devil. But I have no intention of seeking
+monsieur so soon, for there are sufficient devilish deeds to endure in
+this earthly vale of sorrow to prepare for one a very decent purgatory,
+and give him hereafter well-founded hopes of heaven. Therefore I count
+upon remaining here below a while, and to knead with you this leaven of
+life that may yield to my subjects an eatable bread. You must help me,
+Herzberg, when I am the baker, to provide the flour for my people; you
+must be the associate to knead the bread. In order that the flour should
+not fail, and the bread give out, it may be necessary, if possible, to
+make peace."
+
+"Will your majesty be so gracious as to inform me what steps I may take,
+and upon what conditions?"
+
+"Take this paper," said the king, extending a written document
+to Herzberg. "I have therein expressed my wishes, and you can act
+accordingly. I am prepared for peace upon any terms which can be made
+with honor, and which do not frustrate the aim I have in view. You well
+know that this is the security of Germany against Austria's ambitious
+love of territorial aggrandizement! I cannot and I will not suffer that
+the house of Habsburg should strive for unjust possession in Germany,
+and appropriate Bavaria to herself while a lawful heir exists. I well
+know that I play the role of Don Quixote, and am about to fight for the
+rights of Germany as the Chevalier de la Mancha fought for his Dulcinea
+del Toboso. Mais, que voulez-vous, it is necessary for my fame and
+repose that I enter the arena once more against Austria to prove to her
+that I exist. I take this step on account of the prestige I have gained
+in the German empire, and which I should lose if I had not faced Austria
+in this Bavarian contest. And besides, it is agreeable to me to accustom
+my successor to the thunder of cannon, and witness his bearing on the
+field of battle."
+
+"He will certainly do honor to the heroic race of Hohenzollern,"
+answered Herzberg, bowing.
+
+A sudden flash from the king's fiery eyes met the calm pale face
+of Herzberg. "Mere words and flattery, which prove that you are not
+satisfied, Herzberg! Nay, nay, do not deny it; you do not like that I
+should tarry and treat, and set the pen in motion instead of the sword.
+You are a man of deeds, and if you had had your way, I should have
+already won a decisive battle, and be on the road to Vienna to besiege
+the empress in her citadel, and dictate an humiliating peace to her."
+
+"Your majesty, I can assure you--"
+
+"Well, well, do not quarrel!" interrupted the king; "do you suppose I
+cannot read your honest and obstinate face? Do you suppose I did not
+mean what I said? Acknowledge that I am right! confess it, I command
+you!"
+
+"If your majesty commands it, then I will acknowledge it. Yes, I did
+wish that your majesty had not empowered Baron von Thugut to return
+for further negotiations. It would have been well if your majesty had
+marched victorious to Vienna, to let the proud Hapsburgers see for once
+that Frederick of Prussia does not stand behind them, but at their side;
+that he has created a new order of things; that the old, mouldy, rotten
+statutes of the imperial sovereignty have fallen in the dust before
+Frederick the Great; that Germany must be newly mapped out, in order to
+give room near the old man Austria for young Prussia. Yes, your majesty,
+I could have wished that you had even been less generous, less noble
+toward the supercilious, insolent enemy, and have accepted no conditions
+but those of 'equality for Prussia with Austria in the German empire!'"
+
+"My dear sir, I am truly astonished at the vigor with which you express
+yourself; I am very glad to find you so enthusiastic," said Frederick,
+nodding to his minister; "but listen--I will confide to you that which
+I do not wish you to repeat: I am no longer, to my regret, what you so
+flatteringly call me, 'Frederick the Great,' but only 'Old Fritz.' Do
+you understand me? the latter is a deplorable, worn-out soldier, who no
+longer feels power or vigor. The lines of Boileau often recur to me on
+mounting my horse:
+
+     'Unfortunate one, leave thy steed growing old in peace,
+     For fear, that, panting and suddenly out of breath,
+     In falling, he may not leave his master upon the arena!'
+
+It is the misery of life that man will grow old, and that the body, when
+worn and weary, will even subdue the spirit, and force her to fold her
+wings and suffer. I did not realize that it had gone so far with me,
+and I imagined that the winged soul could raise the old, decayed body.
+Therefore I risked, in spite of my lazy old age, to undertake this war,
+for I recognized it as a holy duty to enter into it, for the honor and
+justice of our country, and prove to the Emperor of Germany that he
+could not manage and rule at his will in the German empire. I long not
+for the honor of new laurels, but I should be satisfied, as father of my
+subjects, to gain a civil crown.
+
+"There you have my creed. I have as sincerely confessed to you as my
+respectable cousin, the empress-queen, to her confessor; only I did not
+fall upon my knees to you, and you do not as the said confessor, betray
+me to the Holy Father at Rome."
+
+"Your majesty well knows that every word which you have the grace to
+confide to me, is engraved upon my inmost soul, and that no power upon
+earth could force me to reveal it."
+
+"I know that you are a true and zealous servant of your king and
+country," said Frederick. "Once more I say to you, other than an
+honorable peace I will not make; and if empress-queen does not accept
+the abandonment of Bavaria as the basis of peace, then I must conquer my
+aversion to war, and the sword must arrange what the pen has failed to
+do. And now, passons ladessus! Until Thugut arrives, let us speak of
+other things. I have been tolerably industrious, and have improved the
+leisure of camp-life as much as possible. I have written a panegyric
+upon Voltaire, and when it is revised and corrected you shall arrange an
+anniversary in memoriam, at the Berlin Academy, and read my eulogy."
+
+"All Germany and all Europe will be surprised at the magnanimity of
+the royal mind which could occupy itself in the camp with the muse, and
+erect an imperishable monument to the man who witnessed such ingratitude
+and baseness to his benefactor and protector."
+
+"Vous allez trop vite, mon cher; vraiment, trop vite," cried Frederick,
+ardently. "It is true Voltaire was a miserable fellow, but he was a
+great poet. He returned meanness and ingratitude to me for the many
+kindnesses I showed to him, for I treated him more like a friend than a
+king. Voltaire was my benefactor, in so far that I owed to him the most
+agreeable and elevating hours of my youth, In memory of these hours I
+have written this eulogy. It is not worthy of particular mention, and
+the Academie Francaise will doubtless severely criticise my knowledge of
+their language. But it is impossible to write well, one moment in camp
+and another on the march. If it is unworthy of him whom it was intended
+to celebrate, I have at least availed myself of the freedom of the pen,
+and will cause to be publicly read in Berlin what one dares not whisper
+in Paris." [Footnote: The king's own words.--"Posthumous Works," vol.
+xv., p. 109. This eulogy upon Voltaire, which the king wrote in camp,
+Herzberg read, in the November following, before the Academy.]
+
+"I shall be most happy to be the instrument to make known this generous
+expression of your majesty's good-will," remarked Herzberg, bowing.
+
+Frederick smiled, adding: "But with the other work which I have
+commenced, you are not quite satisfied. You are such an enthusiastic
+German, that you presume to assert that the intolerable German jargon is
+a beautiful and expressive language!"
+
+"And I abide by this decision, your majesty," zealously cried Herzberg.
+"The German language is euphonious, and prolific in ideas, and it
+is well capable of rivalling in brevity and clearness those of the
+ancients."
+
+"That you have already asserted, and I have contested it, and again I
+contest it to-day. Do not trouble me with your German language. It
+will only deserve notice when great poets, distinguished orators, and
+admirable historians, have given it their attention and corrected it,
+freeing it from such disgusting and effeminate phrases as now disfigure
+it, and cause one to use a mass of words to express a few ideas. At
+present it is only an accumulation of different dialects, which every
+division of the German empire thinks to speak the best, and of which
+twenty thousand can scarcely understand what the other twenty thousand
+are saying!" [Footnote: The king's own words.--See "Posthumous Works,"
+vol. xv.]
+
+"Sire," cried Herzberg, with vehemence, "should a German king thus
+speak of his native tongue, at the same time that he takes the field
+to vindicate the honor of Germany, and submits to all the miseries and
+hardships of war? Your majesty cannot be in earnest, to despise our
+beautiful language."
+
+"I do not despise it; I only say that it must be reformed, and shorn of
+its excrescences. Until then we must use the French, which is to-day the
+language of the world, and in which one can render all the master-works
+of the Greeks and the Latins, with the same versatility, delicacy, and
+subtlety, as the original. You pretend that one can well read Tacitus
+in a German translation, but I do not think the language capable of
+rendering the Latin authors with the same brevity as the French."
+
+"Sire, to my joy, I can give you proof to the contrary. A Berlin savant,
+Conrector Moritz, at my request, has translated a few chapters of
+the fourteenth book of the 'Annals of Tacitus,' word for word,
+most faithfully into German. He has written it in two columns, the
+translation at the side of the original. I have taken the liberty to
+bring this work with me and you will see how exactly, and with what
+brevity, Latin authors can be rendered into German, and that there are
+young learned men who have seized the spirit of our language and know
+how to use it with grace and skill."
+
+"Indeed, give it to me," cried the king, zealously. "I am truly curious
+to admire the German linguist's work who has so boldly undertaken to
+translate Tacitus."
+
+"Sire," said Herzberg, raising his eyes knowingly, with a mild,
+imploring expression to the king's face--"sire, I join a request with
+this translation."
+
+"What is it? I am very curious about a petition from you, it is so
+seldom that you proffer one."
+
+"Your majesty, my request concerns the translator of this very chapter
+of Tacitus. He is Conrector Moritz, attached to the Gray Cloister in
+Berlin--an unusually gifted young man, who has undoubtedly a brilliant
+future before him. He has already written many eminent works. The
+Director Gedicke recommended him to me as a most distinguished,
+scholarly person, and I have learned to know and appreciate the young
+man by this means."
+
+"I see it," nodded the king. "You speak of him with great enthusiasm,
+and as what you so warmly recommend is generally able and well
+qualified, I begin to be interested in this Herr Moritz. When I return
+to Berlin--and Heaven grant that it may be soon!--I will at once empower
+you to present this luminary. Are you satisfied?"
+
+"Sire, dare I ask still more? I would beg your majesty to grant this
+young man an audience at once."
+
+"How, at once! Is this phoenix here, who so interests my Minister
+Herzberg? Where is he from, and what does he wish?"
+
+"He is from Berlin; I met him making the journey on foot. He sat upon a
+stone, by the wayside, eating a piece of bread, with a glowing face, and
+so absorbed talking to himself in Latin that he heard not the creaking
+of my carriage through the sand. I recognized him immediately, and
+called him by name. He turned, perfectly unembarrassed and not at all
+ashamed to have been discovered in such an humble and poor position."
+
+"That is to say, he is a good comedian," said the king. "He knew that
+you would drive past there, and placed himself expressly to call your
+attention to him."
+
+"I beg pardon, sire; Conrector Moritz could not have known that I
+would take this journey. You will recollect that the courier arrived at
+midnight with your majesty's commands, and two hours later I was on the
+road, and have since travelled day and night. As I met the young man
+only five miles from this place, he must have set out many days before I
+thought of leaving Berlin."
+
+"It is true," said the king, "it was a false suspicion. You invited him
+into your carriage, did you not?"
+
+"I did very naturally, sire, as he told me he was going to beg an
+audience of your majesty. At first he refused decidedly, as he wished to
+travel on foot, like the pilgrims to the pope at Rome."
+
+"An original, a truly original genius," cried the king.
+
+"He is so indeed, and is so called by all his friends."
+
+"Has he any friends?" asked the king, with an incredulous smile.
+
+"Yes, sire, many warm and sympathizing friends, who are much attached to
+him, and, on account of his distinguished and brilliant qualities, are
+willing to indulge his peculiarities."
+
+"Herzberg, you are charmed, and speak of this man as a young girl in
+love!"
+
+"Sire, if I were a young girl, I should certainly fall in love with this
+Moritz, for he is handsome."
+
+"Diable! I begin to fear this subject. You say he is handsome, learned,
+wise, and good, although he belongs to the airy, puffed-up Berliners.
+Did you let Herr Moritz wander on in his pilgrimage?"
+
+"No, sire, I persuaded him at last to accept a seat in my carriage, by
+explaining to him that your majesty might soon leave Welsdorf, and he
+would run the risk of not arriving in season. Upon no condition would
+he get inside, but climbed up behind, for, said he, with a firm,
+decided manner, 'I go to the king as a beggar, not as a distinguished
+gentleman.'"
+
+"Indeed it is an original," the king murmured to himself. "Do you know
+what the man wants?" he asked aloud.
+
+"No, your majesty; he said that his business concerned the happiness of
+two human beings, and that he could only open his heart to his God and
+his king."
+
+"Where is your protege?"
+
+"He stands outside, and it is my humble request that your majesty will
+grant him an audience, and permit me to call him."
+
+"It is granted, and--"
+
+Just at that moment the door opened, and the footman announced that the
+private secretary of his highness Prince von Galitzin had arrived, and
+most respectfully begged an audience.
+
+"It is he--it is the baron," said the king. "Tell your protege he must
+wait, and come again. Bid the Prince von Galitzin enter."
+
+As the Minister von Herzberg withdrew, the Baron von Thugut appeared,
+the extraordinary and secret ambassador of the Empress Maria Theresa.
+
+"Well, Herr Baron, you are already returned," said the king, as he
+scarcely nodded to the profoundly respectful bows of the ambassador. "I
+infer, therefore, that your instructions are not from the empress, but
+from the co-regent, the Emperor Joseph, who has betaken himself to the
+Austrian camp."
+
+"Sire," answered Thugut, laconically, "I have driven day and night, and
+have received my instructions directly from the empress."
+
+The king slowly shook his head, and an imperceptible smile played around
+his lips.
+
+"Does the young emperor approve of these instructions?"
+
+"Sire, his majesty, the emperor, is only the co-regent," answered
+Thugut, hastily. "It is not therefore necessary, that my sovereign
+should make her decisions dependent upon her son's concordance."
+
+"The empress will negotiate for peace," said the king to himself, "but
+the emperor desires to win laurels in the war, and will try to cut off
+the negotiations of his mother by a coup de main. One must be on his
+guard!"
+
+Just then the door opened and Herzberg returned.
+
+"You perceive I expected you, Baron von Thugut," said the king, "and I
+ordered here my minister of state, Herr von Herzberg. This is the Baron
+von Thugut, my dear minister, the ambassador of the empress-queen, who
+carries in his pocket peace or war, as it may be."
+
+"Sire, I must protest against being so important a personage, as peace
+and war alone depend upon your majesty. It alone depends upon the lofty
+King of Prussia whether he will give peace and tranquillity to Germany,
+or suffer the guilt of permitting the bloody scourge of civil war again
+to tear in pieces the unhappy German nation."
+
+"That sounds very sentimental," cried the king, smiling. "The Baron von
+Thugut will appeal to my heart, when we have only to do with the head.
+Austria wishes to be the head of Germany, and as such would devour one
+German state after another, as a very palatable morsel. But if you will
+be the head, Monsieur le Baron, you cannot represent the stomach also,
+for, as I have been told, it only exists in those soft animals of the
+sea whose head is in their stomach, and which think and digest at the
+same time. Austria does not belong to this class, but has rather a very
+hard and impenetrable shell. We cannot let her devour as stomach what as
+the head she has chosen as booty. That the electorate of Bavaria is not
+to be devoured, is the necessary and fundamental preliminary upon which
+the temple of peace may be erected. If you, or rather the empress-queen,
+agree to it, the negotiations can be concluded by you two gentlemen.
+But if you think to erect a temple of peace upon any other basis,
+your propositions will be in vain. I have not taken the field to make
+conquests, but to protect the rights of a German prince, and not suffer
+others to appropriate a German state. I know, as you have said, that war
+is a bloody scourge for the nation; but, sir, we will not look at it in
+a sentimental light, and talk of civil war, when Austria herself compels
+us to take the field. Or, perhaps, you imagine to prove to my good
+Pomeranians, Markers, and my other German states, that the Croatians,
+Pandurians, Hungarians, Wallachians, Italians, and Polanders, are our
+German brothers, which imperial Austria opposes to us. I think this
+brotherhood may be traced to our common ancestor, Adam, and in this
+sense all wars are indeed civil wars. In any case war is a scourge for
+man, and I am convinced that the empress-queen would just as willingly
+spare her Croatians, Pandurians, Wallachians, and Galicians, as I all my
+German subjects collectively."
+
+"Also your majesty's Polish subjects, as may be expected," added Baron
+von Thugut.
+
+"My Polish subjects are the minimum portion, and are about in proportion
+to the German population as in imperial Austria the German is to the
+foreign. But enough of this; if I do not recognize this as a civil
+war, it is indeed a great misfortune. I would do every thing to avoid
+it--every thing compatible with the honor and glory of my house, as well
+as that of Germany in general. Therefore let us know the Views of the
+empress-queen!"
+
+"Sire," answered Von Thugut, as he slowly untied and unfolded the
+documents, "I beg permission to read aloud to your majesty the acts
+relative to these points."
+
+"No, baron," answered the king quickly, "the more minute details give to
+my minister; I wish only the contents in brief."
+
+"At your majesty's command. The empress-queen declares herself ready
+to renounce the concluded treaty of inheritance to the succession of
+Bavaria at the death of Elector Charles Theodore; also to give up the
+district seized, if Prussia will promise to resign the succession of
+the Margraves of Anspach and Baireuth, and let them remain independent
+principalities, governed by self-dependent sovereigns."
+
+"That means, that Austria, who will unjustly aggrandize herself by
+Bavaria, will deprive Prussia of a lawful inheritance!" cried the king,
+his eyes flashing anger. "I will not heed the after-cause, but I wish
+to satisfactorily understand the first part of the proposition, that
+Austria will cede her pretensions to Bavaria."
+
+"Sire, upon conditions only which are sufficient for the honor, the
+wishes, and necessities of my lofty mistress."
+
+"You hear, my dear Herzberg," said the king, smiling, and turning to his
+minister, "c'est tout comme chez nous. It will now be your task to find
+out these conditions, which too closely affect the honor of one or the
+other. For this purpose you will find the adjacent Cloister Braunau more
+convenient than my poor cabin. At the conferences of diplomats much time
+is consumed, while we military people have little time to spare. I shall
+move on with my army."
+
+"How, then! will your majesty break up here?" cried Thugut, with evident
+surprise.
+
+The king smiled. "Yes, I shall advance, as my remaining might be
+construed equal to a retreat. The arts of diplomacy may drag on until
+the imperialists have assembled all their foreign subjects to the
+so-called civil war. Then hasten the negotiations, Baron von Thugut,
+for every day of diplomatic peace is one day more of foraging war, and I
+know not that you count the Bohemians in the German brotherhood, to whom
+the calamity of war is ruinous. You have now to deal with the Baron
+von Thugut, my dear Herzberg, and I hope the baron will accept some
+diplomatic campaigns with you in Cloister Braunau."
+
+"Sire, I accept, and if your majesty will dismiss me, I will go at once
+to the cloister," answered Baron von Thugut, whose manner had become
+graver and more serious since the king's announcement of the intended
+advance.
+
+"You are at liberty to withdraw. The good and hospitable monks have
+already been apprised of your arrival by an express courier, and have
+doubtless a good supper and a soft bed awaiting you."
+
+"Had your majesty the grace to be convinced of my return?" asked Thugut.
+
+"I was convinced of the tender heart of the empress-queen, and that she
+would graciously try once more, in her Christian mercy, to convert such
+an old barbarian and heretic as I am. Go now to the cloister, and when I
+pass by in the morning, with my army, I will not fail to have them play
+a pious air for the edification of the diplomats--such as, 'My soul,
+like the young deer, cries unto Thee,' or, 'Oh, master, I am thy old
+dog,' or some such heavenly song to excite the diplomats to pious
+thoughts, and therewith I commend you to God's care, Baron von Thugut."
+
+The king charged Herr von Herzberg to play the role of
+grand-chamberlain, and accompany the ambassador to his carriage,
+smiling, and slightly nodding a farewell.
+
+The baron was on the point of leaving, when the king called to him.
+
+"Had your majesty the grace to call me?" asked Thugut, hastily turning.
+
+"Yes!" answered Frederick, smiling, and pointing to the string which
+had served to bind the baron's papers. "You have forgotten something,
+my lord, and I do not like to enrich myself with others' property."
+[Footnote: Historical. The king's words.--See Hormayr.]
+
+Baron von Thugut took this last well-aimed stab of his royal opponent
+somewhat embarrassed, and hastened to pick up the string, and withdraw.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE KING AND THE LOVER.
+
+
+The king smiled, glancing at the retreating figure of the baron, and
+approached the window to peep through the little green glass panes to
+see him as he passed by.
+
+"A sly fox," said he, smiling, "but I will prove to him that we
+understand fox-hunting, and are not deceived by cunning feints."
+
+"Will your majesty really break up to-day?" asked Von Herzberg, upon
+returning.
+
+"Yes, my dear minister. That is to say, I do not wish to, but I must, in
+order to give the negotiations for peace a war-like character. The enemy
+asks for delay to finish their preparations for war--not peace. The
+negotiations for the latter emanate from the empress, but the conditions
+concerning Anspach come from the emperor. It is the Eris-apple, which
+he casts upon the table, by which his imperial mother and I would
+gladly smoke the pipe of peace. It is incumbent upon you, Herzberg, to
+negotiate for peace, while I pick up the apple and balance it a little
+upon the point of my sword. I shall leave early to-morrow, but I would
+speak with you before I set out. You must be weary with the journey, so
+rest awhile now, then dine with me, and afterward go to the conference."
+
+"Sire, will you not receive my protege, Conrector Moritz?"
+
+"Did you not say that he begged for a secret audience?"
+
+"Yes, sire, he has for this purpose travelled the long distance from
+Berlin, and I assure your majesty, upon my word of honor, that I have
+not the least suspicion what his petition may be."
+
+"Eh bien, say to your protege that I grant him the sought-for interview
+on your account, Herzberg. You are such a curious fellow--you are always
+petitioning for others instead of yourself, and the benefits which you
+ought to receive go to them. Let Moritz enter, and then try to sleep a
+little, that you may be wide awake to confer with Baron von Thugut."
+
+Minister von Herzberg withdrew, and immediately the pale, earnest face
+of Conrector Philip Moritz appeared in the royal presence.
+
+The king regarded him with a prolonged and searching glance, the noble,
+resolute face of whom was pallid with deep grief, but from whose eyes
+there beamed courageous energy. "Are you the translator of the chapters
+from Tacitus, which my Minister Herzberg handed me?" asked the king,
+after a pause.
+
+"Yes, sire," gently answered Moritz.
+
+"I am told that it is ably done," continued his majesty, still
+attentively observing him. "You will acknowledge that it is exceedingly
+difficult to render the concise style of Tacitus into the prolix,
+long-winded German?"
+
+"Pardon me, sire," replied Moritz, whose youthful impetuosity could
+with difficulty be diverted from the real object of his pilgrimage.
+"Our language is by no means long-winded, and there is no difficulty in
+translating Latin authors into German, which equals any living tongue
+in beauty and sonorousness, and surpasses them all in depth of thought,
+power, and poesy."
+
+"Diable!" cried the king, smiling; "you speak like an incarnate German
+philologist, who confounds the sound of words with profound thought. You
+will acknowledge that until now our language has not been much known."
+
+"Sire," answered Moritz, "Martin Luther, in his translation of the Bible
+three hundred years since, employed hundreds of beautiful, expressive
+formations."
+
+"He is not only a learned man," said the king to himself, "but he seems
+an honorable one; and now, as I have proved his scholarly attainments,
+I must indulge his impatience." The king's penetrating glance softened,
+and his features changed their severe expression. "The Minister von
+Herzberg informed me that he found you by the roadside, and that you
+would journey hither on foot."
+
+"It is true, sire."
+
+"Why did you travel in that manner?"
+
+"Sire, I desired, as the poor, heavily-laden pilgrims of the middle
+ages, to make the pilgrimage to the Holy Father at Rome, who was the
+king of kings. Every step in advance seemed to them to lighten their
+burden and enhance their happiness. Your majesty is in our day what the
+pope was held to be in the middle ages, therefore I have wandered as
+a pilgrim to my king, who has the power to bind and to loose, and from
+whom I must not only implore personal happiness, but that also of a good
+and amiable young girl."
+
+"Ah! it concerns a love-affair. As I now look at you, I can understand
+that. You are young and passionate, and the maidens have eyes. How can I
+help you in such an adventure?"
+
+"Sire, by not granting a title to a certain person, or if it must be
+granted, annul the conditions attendant upon it."
+
+"I do not understand you," answered the king, harshly. "Speak not in
+riddles. What do you mean?"
+
+"General Werrig von Leuthen has addressed himself to you, sire, praying
+for the consent of your majesty to the marriage of his daughter with
+the banker Ebenstreit. Your majesty has consented, and added that Herr
+Ebenstreit shall take the name of his future father-in-law, and the
+marriage shall take place as soon as the title of nobility has been made
+out."
+
+The king nodded. "For which the new-made nobleman has to pay a hundred
+louis d'ors to the Invalids at Berlin. But what is that to you? And what
+connection has Herr Ebenstreit's title to do with Conrector Moritz?"
+
+Moritz's face brightened, and, deeply moved, he answered: "Sire, I love
+the daughter of General von Leuthen, and she returns my love. By not
+ennobling Ebenstreit, it lies in your power, most gracious majesty, to
+make two persons the most blessed of God's creatures, who desire nothing
+more than to wander hand in hand through life, loving and trusting each
+other."
+
+"Is that all?" asked the king, with a searching glance.
+
+Moritz quailed beneath it, and cast down his eyes. "No!" he replied.
+"As I now stand in the presence of your majesty, I am sensible of the
+boldness of my undertaking, and words fail me to express what is burning
+in my soul. Oh! sire, I only know that we love each other, and that this
+love is the first sunbeam which has fallen upon my gloomy and thorny
+path of life, and awakened in my lonely heart all the bloom of feeling.
+You smile, and your great spirit may well mock the poor human being
+who thinks of personal happiness, when for an idea merely thousands are
+killed upon the field of battle. My life, sire, has been a great combat,
+in which I have striven with all the demons escaped from Pandora's box.
+I have grown up amid privations and need. I have lived and suffered,
+until God recompensed my joyless, toiling, hungered existence by this
+reciprocated love, which is a beautiful ornament to my life, and is life
+itself, and to renounce it would be to renounce life. I am young, sire,
+and I long for the unknown paradise of earthly happiness, which I have
+never entered until now, and which I can only attain led by the hand of
+my beloved. I yearn just once, as other privileged men, to bask in the
+sunshine of happiness a long, beautiful summer day, and then at the
+golden sunset to sink upon my knees and cry, 'I thank Thee, O God, that
+in Thy goodness I have recognized Thy sublimity, and that Thou hast
+revealed thy glory to me.' All this appears of little importance to your
+majesty, for the heart of a king is not like that of other men, and the
+personal happiness of individuals appears a matter of little account to
+him who thinks and works for the good of an entire nation. But the
+fly, sire, which is sunning itself upon the plumes of the helmet of a
+victorious king, has its right to happiness, for God created it with the
+same care and love that He created the noblest of His creatures--man!
+and it would be cruel to kill it without necessity. Sire, I do not extol
+myself. I know that in your eyes I am no more than the fly upon your
+helmet, but I only implore you to grant me my life, for God has given it
+to me."
+
+"You mean by this that I shall forbid General von Leuthen to marry
+his daughter to the rich man who seeks her, and to which marriage,
+understand me well, I have already given my consent."
+
+"Sire, I only know that this union drives not only me to despair, but
+one of the noblest and best of God's creatures. Fraulein von Leuthen
+does not love the bridegroom forced upon her; she detests him, and
+she has good reason to, for the banker Ebenstreit is a cold-hearted,
+purse-proud man, enfeebled by a voluptuous, vicious life, and seeks
+nothing nobler and more elevated in the young girl to whom he has
+offered his hand, than the title and noble name which she can procure
+for him. Your majesty, I implore not for myself, but for the daughter
+of a man who once had the good fortune to save your life in battle! Have
+pity upon her, and do not sacrifice her to an inconsolably hopeless life
+by the side of an unloved and detested husband!"
+
+The king slowly shook his head. "You forget that the general to whom I
+am indebted for this favor has begged my consent to this marriage, and
+that I have granted it."
+
+"Sire, I conjure you to recall it! Upon my knees I implore you not to
+grant it! Do not make two people unhappy, who only beg of your majesty
+the permission to love and live with each other!" Moritz threw himself
+at the king's feet, praying with clasped hands, his face flushed with
+deep emotion, and his eyes dimmed with tears.
+
+"Rise!" commanded Frederick, "rise, do not kneel to me as to a God. I
+am a feeble mortal, subject to the same ills which threaten you and the
+whole human race. Rise, and answer me one question--are you rich?"
+
+"No," answered Moritz, proudly raising his head; "no, I am poor."
+
+"Do you know that Fraulein von Leuthen is poor? Her father is worse off
+than Job, for he is in debt."
+
+"If General von Leuthen's daughter were rich, or even moderately well
+off, I never would have presumed to address your majesty on the subject,
+for fear that you might misconstrue my intentions, and suppose that my
+love was inspired by self-interest. Fortunately, Marie possesses nothing
+but her noble, beautiful self. She leads a joyless existence under
+the severe discipline of her cold-hearted parents; and therefore I can
+truthfully say, that with me she will lose nothing, but gain what she
+has never known--a tranquil, happy life, protected by my love."
+
+"How much salary do you receive as teacher?"
+
+"Majesty, as conrector of the college attached to the Gray Monastery,
+three hundred and fifty dollars."
+
+"Do you expect to live upon that yourself, and support a family
+besides?"
+
+"Sire, I shall earn money in other ways, as I have already done. I shall
+write books. The publishers tell me that I am a favorite author, and
+they pay me well."
+
+"If on the morrow you should fall ill, your income would vanish, and
+your family and you would starve together. No! no! you are an idealist,
+you dream how life should be, and not as it is in truth! I have listened
+to you, thinking that you would present some forcible argument upon
+which to found your pretensions, but I hear only the ravings of a lover,
+who believes the world turns upon the axis of his happiness. Let me tell
+you that love is an ephemera, which merrily sports in the sunlight a few
+short hours, and dies at sunset. Should a king forfeit his word for such
+a short-lived bliss? Should he reward a man to whom he is indebted
+by depriving him of a rich son-in-law, who is agreeable to him, and
+substituting a poor one, from whom he can never hope to receive a
+comfortable maintenance? You young people are all alike. You think only
+of yourselves, and it is a matter of little consequence to you if the
+aged pine away and die, provided you build up happiness on their graves!
+I ask you, who have talked so much about your own wishes, and those of
+your beloved, where is it written that man must be happy, that there
+is a necessity to make him so? Do you suppose that I have ever been
+happy--who have a long, active life in retrospection? Mankind have taken
+good care that I should not sip this nectar of the gods, and have taught
+me early to renounce it. Life is not consumed in pleasure, but in toil,
+and I believe its only happiness consists in the fact that at last, when
+weary and worn, we will sink into the grave--to an eternal rest! Every
+human being must work according to his abilities, and in the position
+which Fate has assigned to him. To maintain this position, his honor is
+at stake--the best and most sacred gift confided to man. You will
+not desert it--not despair in life because your dream of bliss is not
+realized."
+
+"Sire," answered Moritz, with a cry of anguish, "it is no dream, but a
+reality!"
+
+"Happiness is only ideal," said the king, slowly shaking his head. "What
+we sigh for to-day, we curse on the morrow as a misfortune. Let this
+serve as a lesson to you. Toil on--you are a scholar; woo Science for
+your bride. Her charms will never fade. In youth as in old age she will
+attract you by her beauty and constancy--that which you cannot hope for
+from women."
+
+"Sire," asked Moritz, in deep dejection, "will you not grant the
+petition of my heart? Will you condemn this poor, innocent young girl
+who prays your majesty through me, to a long, joyless existence, to a
+daily-renewing sorrow?"
+
+The king shrugged his shoulders. "I have already said that happiness is
+imaginary; I might have added unhappiness also. General von Leuthen's
+daughter will accustom herself to the misfortune of being a rich man's
+wife, and finally will drive with a smiling face in her four-in-hand
+gilded carriage!"
+
+"Sire, I swear to you that you mistake this dear, noble-hearted young
+girl, you--"
+
+"Enough!" interrupted the king. "I have given my consent to General von
+Leuthen, and I cannot recall it. Moreover, the marriage of the daughter
+of my general with you would be a misalliance--ridiculous. In the
+republic of intellect and science, you may have a very high position,
+but in my earthly kingdom you hold too modest a one to presume to raise
+your eyes to a noble young lady. I regret that I can offer you no other
+consolation than to listen to reason, and be resigned. As we cannot
+bring down the moon to earth, we must content ourselves with a lamp to
+light up our small earthly abode. If this ever should fail you, then
+come to me and I will assist you. I cannot, to be sure, give you the
+moon, for that belongs as little to me as the bride of the rich Herr
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen. One cannot give away that which one does not
+possess. Farewell! return to Berlin, and resign yourself bravely to your
+fate. Accustom yourself to the thought that in fourteen days Fraulein
+von Leuthen will become the wife of your wealthy rival. The wedding
+ceremony awaits only the papers of nobility, for which my order has
+already been forwarded to Berlin. I moreover propose to you not to
+return to the college at once, but travel for two weeks. I will be
+responsible for your absence, and provide you with the necessary means.
+Now tell me whether you accept my proposal?"
+
+"Thanks to your majesty, I cannot," answered Moritz, with calm dignity.
+"There is but one balm which my king could grant me. Money is not a
+plaster to soothe and heal a wounded heart. Sire, I beg you to dismiss
+me, for I will return at once to Berlin."
+
+"I hope that you have not the foolish idea to return on foot," said the
+king. "My courier will leave in an hour, and there are two places in the
+coupe, accept one of them."
+
+"Sire," said Moritz, gloomily, "I--" suddenly the words died on his
+lips, and his eyes beamed with an unnatural fire, which paled under the
+observing glance of the king. "I thank you," said Moritz, gasping, "I
+will accept it."
+
+The king nodded. "Au revoir, in Berlin! When I return after the campaign
+I will send for you. You will then have learned to forget your so-called
+misfortune, and smile at your pilgrimage!"
+
+"I cannot think so, sire."
+
+"I am convinced of it. Farewell."
+
+Moritz answered the royal salutation with a mute bow, and withdrew with
+drooping head and sorrowful heart. The king continued to regard him with
+an expression of deep sadness. "Ah!" he sighed, "how enviable are those
+who can still believe in love's illusion, and who have not awakened from
+their dream of bliss by sad experience or age! How long since I have
+banished these dreams--how long I--"
+
+The king ceased, his head sank back upon his chair, his large, fiery
+eyes, peering into the distance, as if he would re-people it with
+the memories of youth, with the delusions from which he had so long
+awakened. Those lovely, charming forms flitted before him one by one
+which had then captivated him: the beautiful Frau von Wrechem, his
+first love, and to whom he had vowed eternal constancy; another sweet,
+innocent face that suffered shame and degradation for him--"oh! Doris,
+Doris, dream of my youth, fly past!"--and now the face with the large
+eyes and energetic features, which turned so tenderly to him, that
+of his sister Frederika, who from affection to the crown prince had
+sacrificed herself to an unloved husband in order to reconcile the son
+with the father, and preserve for him the inheritance to the throne;
+still another calm and gentle face, with the expression of sorrowful
+resignation in the deep-blue eyes, that of his wife, who had so
+passionately loved him, and had faded away at his side unloved! All
+past--past. A new face arose, the pretty Leontine von Morien, the
+tourbillon of the princely court at Rheinsberg, who pined away in sighs.
+Now passed the sweetest and loveliest of all. The king's eyes, which
+stared into empty space, now beamed with glad recognition. The heart
+which had grown old and sobered beat with feverish rapidity, and the
+compressed lips whispered, sighing, "Barbarina!" She stood before him in
+her bewitching beauty, with the charming smile upon her ruby lips, and
+passionate love beaming from her flashing eyes. "Oh, Barbarina!" The
+king rose, a cold chill crept over him. He looked around so strangely
+in the desolate, darkened room, as if he could still see this form which
+greeted him with the sad smile and tearful glance. No one was there. He
+was quite alone. Only the feeble echo of far-distant days repeated the
+device of his youth--of his life: "Soffri e taci! Resignation alone has
+remained true to me. But no--there is still another friend, my flute.
+Come, you faithful companion of my life! You have witnessed my sorrows,
+and from you I have nothing to conceal!" He tenderly regarded it, for it
+was long since he had taken it from its case. The sorrows and cares of
+life, the suffering from the gout which raged in his teeth, and sad,
+sobering old age, had caused him to lay it aside, but with the habit of
+affection he carried it everywhere. Frederick felt himself grow young
+again with the souvenirs of former days, and essayed to recall the echo
+of tenderer feelings upon his flute. The music of his heart was hushed,
+the melodious tones of former days would not return. The king laid
+it aside with an impatient movement. "Nothing is lasting in life," he
+murmured. A flourish of trumpets, a peal of drums announced that the
+regiment was passing which would parade before the king. What are they
+playing, which rouses the lonely king with bright memories and shouts of
+victory? It is the march which his majesty composed after the brilliant
+victory of Hohenfriedberg. The king raised his eyes gratefully to
+heaven, repeating aloud: "There is something lasting in life. Love
+ceases and music dies away, but the good we have accomplished remains.
+The most glorious of earthly rewards is granted to those who have
+achieved great deeds--the mortal becomes immortal--the gods ceding
+to him that which is more elevating than love or happiness--fame. Ye
+trumpets of Hohenfriedberg, ye will still quiver when I am gone, and
+relate to succeeding generations about 'Old Fritz.' Such tales are well
+worthy to live and suffer for! I am coming, ye trumpets of fame." With
+youthful activity and beaming face the king went out to receive his
+generals, who saluted him with silent reverence, and his soldiers, who
+greeted their beloved commander and king with an exultant shout.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. IN WEIMAR.
+
+
+"There lies dear Weimar, encircled in its wreath of green. Do you not
+see it, Wolf? I will refresh my heart with its view; so halt, postilion,
+halt," cried the duke. "It is more beautiful to me than stately, proud
+Berlin. Though a poor, gray nest, I could press it to my heart, with all
+its untidy little houses, and tedious old pedants. Let us walk down the
+hill, Wolf."
+
+"Most willingly," cried Goethe, stretching forth his arms to the little
+town, nestled in the peaceful valley, "be welcome, you lovely paradise,
+with your angels and serpents; we press on toward you with all our heart
+and soul, as to the seven-sealed book, filled with mysteries, and we
+would draw glorious revelations from your hidden contents."
+
+"And grant, ye gods, that the inspired one may at last break the seal
+which a cruel friend has placed upon her lips, that he may not drink the
+kiss of love glowing beneath," said the duke, smiling. "Do you not see
+the gray roof yonder, with its background of tall trees, that--"
+
+"The house where dwells my beloved, my dearest friend, my sister, and
+the mistress of my heart," interrupted Goethe. "She is all this, for she
+is my all in all. The fountains of bliss and love which here and there I
+have drawn from, refreshing my heart and occupying my mind, flow toward
+her, united in one broad, silvery stream, with heaven and earth mirrored
+therein, and revealing wonderful secrets in its rushing waves."
+
+"Ah, Wolf!" cried the duke, "you are a happy, enviable creature, free
+and unfettered, sending your love where it pleases you. My dear Wolf, I
+advise you never to marry, for--"
+
+Goethe hastily closed the duke's mouth with his hand. "Hush! not a
+word against the noble Duchess Louisa, my master and friend. She is an
+example of refined, womanly dignity; and you, Charles, are to be envied
+the love of so estimable a wife and sweet mother for your children."
+
+"Indeed I am," cried the duke, enthusiastically. "I could not have found
+a more high-minded, lovely wife, or a more excellent, virtuous mother
+for my descendants. But you know, Wolf, that your Charles has still
+another heart, very susceptible and tender, which seeks for an affinity
+to call its own, and vent itself in the pleasures of youth, in glorious
+flirtations, melancholy signs, and blissful longings. You cannot expect
+me at twenty-two to play the grandfather, and have no eyes or heart
+for other captivating women, though I love my young wife most
+affectionately, and bless Fate that I am bound with silken cords to
+Hymen's cart--though I am forever bound, and you, Wolf, are happily
+free!"
+
+"Because grim Fate refuses to unite me to my beloved. Oh, Charlotte, if
+you were free, how blessed would I be, enchained by you! Not to 'Hymen's
+cart,' as the fortunate mocker says, but to the chariot of Venus, drawn
+by doves, enthroned upon which you would bear me to heaven!"
+
+"Do not blaspheme, Wolf," cried the duke; "rather kneel and thank the
+gods that you are not fettered and your wings clipped. They wish to
+preserve to you love's delusion, because you are a favorite, and deny
+you the object adored. Beware of the institution which the French
+actress, Sophie Arnould, has so wittily called the 'consecration
+of adultery.' You will agree with me that we have many such little
+sacraments in our dear Weimar, and I must laugh when I reflect for what
+purpose those amiable beauties have married, as not one of them love
+their husbands, but they all possess a friend besides."
+
+"The human heart is a strange thing," said Goethe, as they descended the
+hill, arm in arm, "and above all a woman's heart! It is a sacred
+riddle, which God has given Himself to solve, and that only a God could
+unravel!"
+
+At this instant a flash of lightning, followed by heavy-rolling thunder,
+was heard.
+
+"Hear, Wolf--only hear!" laughed Charles--"God in heaven responds, and
+confirms your statement."
+
+"Or punishes me for my bold speech," cried Goethe, as the hailstones
+rattled around him hitting his face with their sharp points. "Heaven is
+whipping me with rods."
+
+"And our carriage has descended with a quick trot into the valley,"
+said the duke. "I will call it." He sprang into the middle of the road,
+making a speaking-trumpet of his hands, and shouted in a full, powerful
+voice, "Oho, postilion! here, postilion!"
+
+The continued rolling of the thunder, the whistling wind, and rattling
+hail, made all attempts inaudible. The two gentlemen sought shelter
+under the thick crowns of the oak-trees by the wayside, which formed an
+impenetrable roof to the flood of rain.
+
+"I know nothing more sublime than a thunder-storm," said Goethe, looking
+up as if inspired; "when the thunder rolls in such awful majesty and
+wrath, it seems as if I heard Prometheus in angry dispute with the gods.
+In the dark clouds I see the Titan, enveloped in mist, overspreading the
+heavens, and raising his giant-arm to hurl his mighty wrath." At this
+instant a flash of lightning, followed by a deafening peal reverberated
+in one prolonged echo through the hills.
+
+"Do you not hear him, Charles?" cried Goethe, delighted--"hear all the
+voices of earth united in the grumbling thunder of his wrath? See, there
+he stands, yonder in heaven--his form dark as midnight. I hear it--he
+calls--Overshadow the heavens, O Jupiter, With thy vaporous clouds!
+Cut off the oak and mountain-tops As a boy plucks the thistle. Leave me
+earth and my cabin Which thou hast not built, And my hearth-side,
+The glow of which thou enviest me! I know naught so miserable As you
+gods--you--"
+
+Again the mighty peal silenced Goethe, who looked to heaven with
+defiance flashing from his eyes and his clinched hand upraised, as if he
+were Prometheus himself menacing the gods.
+
+"Proceed, Wolf," cried the duke, as the echo died away. "How can you,
+yourself a god, be so excited with the anger of like beings? Proceed!"
+
+The uplifted arm of the poet sank at his side, and the fiery glance was
+softened. "No human word is capable of expressing what Prometheus just
+spoke in thunder," said Goethe, musingly, "and I humbly feel how weak
+and insignificant we are, and how great we think ourselves, while our
+voice is like the humming beetle in comparison to this voice from the
+clouds."
+
+"Be not desponding, Wolf, your own will ring throughout Europe; every
+ear will listen and every heart will comprehend, and centuries later it
+will delight with its freshness and beauty. The storm passes and dies
+away, but the poet lives in his heavenly melodies through all time. You
+must finish 'Prometheus' for me, Wolf. I cannot permit you to leave it
+as a fragment. I will have it in black and white, to refresh myself
+in its beauty bright. A spark of your divine talent is infused into my
+soul, and I begin to rhyme. Ah, Wolf, all that is elevated within me I
+owe to you, and I bless Fate for according you to me."
+
+"And I also, dear Charles," said Goethe, feelingly. "For, fostered and
+protected by your noble mind and nature, my inmost thoughts develop and
+blossom. We give and receive daily from each other, and so mingle the
+roots of our being that, God willing, we will become two beautiful
+trees, like the oak which now arches over us. But see, the rain is fast
+ceasing, and the sun looks out by the clinched hand of Prometheus. We
+can now travel on to the loved spot."
+
+"Oh, Wolf, are you in love? None but a lover could say the rain has
+ceased, when it pours down so that we should be drenched before we could
+arrive at Weimar. But hark! I hear a carriage in the distance; we may be
+favored with a shelter."
+
+The duke stepped out from under the trees, and looked along the highway
+with his sharp hunter's eye. "A vehicle approaches, but no chance for
+us, as it appears to be a farm-wagon, crowded with men and women."
+
+"Indeed it does," said Goethe, joining him; "a very merry company they
+are too, singing gayly. Now, grant the rain rain has ceased--"
+
+"Charlotte von Stein is at Weimar," interrupted the duke. "Give me your
+arm, and we will walk on."
+
+They advanced briskly arm in arm. A stranger meeting them would have
+supposed that they were brothers, so much alike were they in form,
+manners, and dress, for the duke as well as Goethe wore the Werther
+costume.
+
+As they descended, the carriage came nearer and nearer. The duke's keen
+eye had not been deceived. It was a farm-wagon, filled with a frolicsome
+party, sitting on bags of straw for cushions. They were chatting and
+laughing absorbed in fun, and did not observe the two foot-passengers,
+who turned aside from them. A sudden cry of surprise hushed the
+conversation; a form rose, half man and half woman, enveloped in a man's
+coat of green baize, crowned with a neat little hat of a woman. "Oh, it
+is Charles!" cried the form, and at the same instant the duke sprang to
+the wagon. "Is it possible, my dear mother?"
+
+"The Duchess Amelia!" cried Goethe, astonished.
+
+"Yes," laughed the duchess, greeting them with an affectionate look.
+"The proverb proves itself--'Like mother, like son.' On the highway
+mother and son have met. You should have done the honors in a stately
+equipage."
+
+"May I be permitted to ask where you come from?" asked the duke. "And
+the dress, of what order do you wear?"
+
+"We walked to Ziefurt, and intended to walk back. Thusnelda is so
+delicate and weak, that she complained of her fairy feet paining her,"
+answered the duchess, laughing.
+
+"Ah, duchess, must I always be the butt?" cried the lady behind the
+duchess, crouching between the straw-sacks. "Must I permit you to follow
+in my footsteps, while I--"
+
+"Hush, Goechhausen--hush, sweet Philomel," interrupted the duke, "or the
+Delphic riddle of this costume will be apparent."
+
+"It is easily explained," said the duchess. "No other conveyance was
+to be had, and my good Wieland gave me his green overcoat to protect me
+from the pouring rain." [Footnote: True anecdote.--See Lewes' "Goethe's
+Life and Writings," vol. 1., p. 406.]
+
+"And from to-day forth it will be a precious palladium," cried the
+little man with a mild, happy face on the straw by the duchess.
+
+"And there is Knebel too," shouted the duke to the gentleman who just
+then pulled the wet hood of his cloak over his powdered hair.
+
+"Our treasurer Bertuch, Count Werther, and Baron von Einsiedel also."
+
+"Does not your highness ask after our bewitching countess?" asked
+Goechhausen, in her fine, sharp voice. "The countess is quite ill--is
+she not, Count Werther?"
+
+"I believe so, they say so," answered the count, rather absent-minded.
+"I have not seen her for some days."
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the duke, as Goethe was engaged in a lively
+conversation with the duchess. "Is the dear countess dangerously ill?"
+
+"Oh, no," answered Goechhausen, "not very ill, only in love with genius,
+a malady which has attacked us all more or less since that mad fellow
+Wolfgang Goethe has raged in Weimar, and made it a place of torment to
+honorable people. Oh, Goethe--oh, Wolf! with what lamb-like innocence we
+wandered in comfortable sheep's clothing until you came and fleeced us,
+and infected us with your 'Sturm und Dranger' malady, and made us fall
+in love with your works!"
+
+"Goechhausen, hold your malicious tongue, and do not hide your own joy
+beneath jest and mockery," cried the duchess. "Acknowledge that you
+are rejoiced to see your favorite, and that you will hasten to write to
+Madam Aja, 'Our dear duke has returned, and my angel, my idol, Wolfgang,
+also.' I assure you, Goethe, Thusnelda loves you, and was exceedingly
+melancholy during your absence. If asked the cause of her sadness, she
+wept like--"
+
+"Like a crocodile," said the duke. "Oh, I know those tears of Fraulein
+Goechhausen; I could relate stories of her crocodile nature. Mother, how
+can you have such a monster in your society? Why not make the cornes,
+that the little devils may fly away?"
+
+"Very good," cried the little, crooked lady. "I see your highness has
+not changed by this journey. Where have you been, dear duke? Oh, I
+remember; you flew over the Rhine, and have flown home again quite
+unchanged."
+
+All laughed, the duke louder than any one. "Goechhausen, you are a
+glorious creature, and the Arminius is to be envied who appropriates
+this Thusnelda. Oh, I see the charming youth before me, who has the
+courage to make this German wife his own!"
+
+"I will scratch his eyes out?" cried Goechhausen, "and then the Countess
+Werther can play Antigone, and lead him around as Oedipus. Why shut your
+eyes, Einsiedel? I do not scratch quite yet."
+
+"I was not thinking of that," said the baron, astonished.
+
+"You never think that every one knows; but did you not do it so soon
+as you understood the Countess Werther should lead blind Oedipus as
+Antigone?"
+
+Before the count could answer, the court lady turned again to the duke.
+"What did your highness bring me? I hope you have not forgotten that you
+promised me a handsome present."
+
+"No, I have not forgotten it; I have brought my Thusnelda a
+souvenir--such a gift!"
+
+"What is it, your highness?"
+
+"A surprise which, if Thusnelda is clever, she must think about all
+night.--But, Goethe, is it not time to leave the ladies?"
+
+"Wait, I command you both," said the Duchess Amelia, extending her hand
+to her son, who pressed it to his lips most affectionately. "I
+have given out invitations for a soiree, for this evening. My
+daughter-in-law, the Duchess Louisa, has accepted, duke, and Frau von
+Stein also, Goethe. I hope to see you at Belvedere, gentlemen. The poet
+Gleim is in town, and will read his late 'Muse Almanach.' May I not
+expect both of you?"
+
+They joyfully consented, gazing after the merry society as it drove
+away. "This is a good bite for the poisonous tongues of the honorable,"
+cried the duke. "My mother in a farm-wagon, with Wieland's green
+overcoat on, and the reigning duke, with his Goethe, entering his
+capital on foot like a journeyman mechanic, after a long journey!"
+
+"I wish we were there, my dearest friend," sighed Goethe.
+
+"Oh, love makes you impatient! Come on, then. But listen, we must play
+Gochhausen a trick; I have promised her a surprise. Will you help me,
+Wolf?"
+
+"With pleasure, duke."
+
+"I have thought of something very droll, and your servant Philip must
+help us; he is a clever fellow, and can keep his own counsel."
+
+"He is silent as the grave, duke."
+
+"That is necessary for such a gentleman as the women all run after. Let
+us skip down the mountain, and then forward where our hearts incline us.
+This afternoon I will go for you and bring you to Belvedere, and then
+we can talk over the surprise." They ran down the declivity into the
+suburb, to the terror of the good people, who looked after them,
+saying that the young duke had returned with his mad protege. The "mad
+favorite" seemed more crazy than ever to-day, for after a brief farewell
+to the duke, he bounded through the streets across the English park, to
+the loved house, the roof of which he had so longingly greeted from the
+hillside. The door stood open, as is customary in small towns, and the
+servant in the vestibule came to meet him, and respectfully announced
+that her master had gone to his estate at Hochberg, but that Frau von
+Stein was most probably in the pavilion, in the garden, as she had
+gone thither with her guitar. "Is she alone?" asked Goethe. The
+servant answered in the affirmative, and through the court hastened the
+lover--not through the principal entrance, as he would surprise her, and
+read in her sweet face whether she thought of him. Softly he opened the
+little garden gate, and approached the pavilion by a side-alley. Do his
+feet touch the ground, or float over it? He knew not; he heard music,
+accompanied by a sweet, melodious voice. It was Charlotte's. Goethe's
+face beamed with delight and happiness. He gazed at her unseen, not
+alone with his eyes, but heart and soul went forth to her. She sat
+sideways to the door; upon a table lay her notes, and the guitar rested
+upon her arm. She sang, in a rich, sweet voice, Reinhardt's beautiful
+melody:
+
+"I'd rather fight my way through sorrows Than bear so many joys in
+life; All this affinity of heart to heart, How strangely it causes us to
+suffer!"
+
+She ceased, as if overpowered with her own thoughts, the guitar sank
+upon her lap, and her fingers glided over the chords, so that the tones
+died away imperceptibly. Her deep-blue eyes gazed pensively in the
+distance, and the sweet lips repeated softly, "How strangely it causes
+us to suffer!" Near the garden entrance, through which the odor of sweet
+flowers and the song of birds was wafted with every gentle zephyr, stood
+Goethe, looking at the woman whom he had so passionately loved for three
+years, so absorbingly, that to her were consecrated all his thoughts.
+
+He could contain himself no longer; he rushed forward and threw himself
+at her feet. "Oh, Charlotte, I love you, only you, and once more I am by
+your side!"
+
+A shriek! was it a cry of surprise or delight? Who let the guitar fall
+to the floor, he or she? Who embraced the other in affectionate haste,
+he or she? Who pressed the lips so lovingly to the other lips, he or
+she? And who said, "I love you? What bliss to again repose in your
+affection, I would fain die now. In this moment a whole life has been
+consecrated, for love has revealed to us our other self."
+
+She sat upon the tabouret, and Goethe still knelt before her,
+clasping her feet and pressing them to his bosom. His eyes beamed with
+inexpressible delight as he regarded the face, usually so calm and
+indifferent--today glowing as sunrise.
+
+"Oh, tell me, Charlotte, have you thought of me? But rather speak to me
+with your eyes, and may they be more than the cruel lips which refuse to
+confess. Oh, shade not those loved orbs, which are my stars shining upon
+me, whithersoever I wander. They are my light, my spring-time, and my
+love. They will never cease to beam upon me, as light and love never
+grow old. Let me read eternal youth in those eyes, and the secrets which
+rest as pearls in the depths of your heart. Only tell me, is the pearl
+of love to be found there, and is it mine?"
+
+"It would be a misfortune if it were there," she whispered, with a sweet
+smile. "Pearls are the result of a malady, and my heart would be ill if
+the pearl of love were found there. No, no, rise, Wolf, dear Wolf,
+we have given away at the first moment of meeting; let us now be
+reasonable, and speak in a dignified manner with each other, as it
+becomes a married woman and her friend."
+
+"Friend?" repeated Goethe, impetuously; "forever must I listen to this
+hated, hypocritical word, which, like a priest's robe, shall cover the
+sacred glow in my heart? I have told you, Charlotte, that I am not
+your friend, and I never shall be. There is not the least spark of this
+still, calm fire of the earthly moderation in me, by which one could
+cook his potatoes, or his daily vegetables, but by which one could never
+prepare food for the gods, or that which could refresh a poet's heart or
+quicken his soul. No, in me burns the fire which Prometheus stole from
+the gods, originating in heaven and glowing upon earth. This heavenly
+and earthly love unites in one flame. Again, I say, Charlotte, banish
+this hypocritical word 'friendship!' It is only love which I feel for
+you, let this sentiment enter at every avenue of your heart, and do not
+feign ignorance of it, sweet hypocrite. Surprise has torn away the mask!
+The passionate kiss, which still burns upon my lips, was not given by a
+friend or sister; but overcome by joy, the truth has been acknowledged!"
+
+"Do you wish that the kiss of meeting should be that of parting also?"
+said Charlotte, sadly, as she raised her blue eyes with a languishing
+look to the handsome, ardent face of the man who stood before her.
+"Do you wish to separate forever? I must recall to you our last
+conversation: 'Only when you are resolved to moderate this impetuous
+manner, and curb this overflow of feeling, which reason and custom
+imposes upon us, shall I be able to receive you and enjoy your
+society.'"
+
+"Yes, with these unmeaning phrases you banished me. Cruel and
+hard-hearted were you to the last. Oh, Charlotte! you know what I
+suffered at our last walk, with your reasoning remonstrances and
+cold-hearted reproaches; they pierced my heart like poisoned arrows. If
+the duke and duchess had not been walking before us, I should have wept
+myself weary. My whole being cried within me: 'Oh! cruel and inexorable
+woman, to beg of me, who so unutterably loves her, to call her friend
+and sister!' I repeated the words daily during my absence, and sought
+to clothe your beloved image with meaning. They disfigured you, and the
+angel whom I adore was no longer recognizable. I cannot call you friend
+or sister."
+
+"Then I can be nothing to you, dear Wolfgang," sighed Charlotte. "In
+this hour of meeting we will part, and to avoid a chance encounter even,
+I will go to my husband at Kochberg, and remain there the whole summer."
+
+Goethe seized her, holding her fast in his strong arms, staring her
+in the face with a fierce, angry look. "Are you in earnest? Would you
+really do it?"
+
+"Goethe, I beg you to loosen your hold; you hurt my arms."
+
+"Do you not also hurt me? With your cold indifference do you not pierce
+my heart with red-hot daggers, and then smile and rejoice at my torture,
+which is a proof to you of my unbounded love? While you only play with
+me, and attach me to your triumphal car, to display to the world that
+you have succeeded in taming the lion, and have changed him into a
+good-natured domestic animal. Go! you do not deserve that I should love
+you, cold-hearted, cruel woman!"
+
+He threw her arms from him, with tears in his eyes. Charlotte von Stein
+regarded him with anger and indifference.
+
+"Farewell, secretary of legation. It seems to please you to insult and
+offend a poor woman, who has no other protection than her honor and
+virtue. Farewell! I will not expose myself to such offences; therefore I
+will retire."
+
+She turned slowly toward the door, but Goethe bounded forward like a
+tiger, interrupted her path, falling upon his knees, imploring pity and
+begging for pardon. "Oh, Charlotte, I will be gentle as a child, I will
+be reserved, I know that I am a sinner! It is warring against one's own
+heart to seek comfort in offending what is dearest to it in a moment
+of ill-humor. But I have again become a child, with all my thoughts,
+scarcely recognizable for the moment, quite lost to myself, as I consent
+to the conditions of others with this fire raging within me. Oh, beloved
+Charlotte, forgive me! I submit to all that you wish." [Footnote:
+Goethe's words.--See "Letters to Charlotte von Stein," roll., p. 358.]
+
+"Will you be satisfied to love me as your friend and sister?"
+
+"I will be," he sighed. "Only in the future you must endeavor to
+persuade yourself into such a sisterly way that you will be indulgent to
+my rudeness, otherwise I shall have to avoid you when I need you most.
+Oh, Charlotte, it seems terrible to me that I should mar through anguish
+the best hours of my life, the blissful moments of meeting with you, for
+whom I would pluck every hair from my head if it would make you happy.
+And yet to be so blind, so hardened! Have pity upon me. Again I promise
+you that I will be reasonable. Do not banish me from your presence.
+Extend to me your hand, and promise me that you will be my friend and
+sister!" [Footnote: Goethe's words.--See "Letters to Charlotte von
+Stein," roll., p. 358.]
+
+"Then here is my hand," said she, with a charming smile.
+
+"I will be your friend and sister, and--"
+
+"What now, my Charlotte? do finish--what is it?"
+
+She laid her hand gently upon his shoulder, and her words fell on his
+ear like soft music. "When my dear friend and much-beloved brother has
+conducted himself very prudently for two or three happy weeks, I will
+send him a ringlet of my hair, which he has so long begged for, and a
+kiss with it."
+
+Goethe spoke not, but pressed her blushing face to his bosom, and
+laid his hand gently upon her head. A smile of delight--of perfect
+happiness--played around his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. THE READING.
+
+
+This happy smile still beamed upon Goethe's face as he walked with
+the duke late in the evening toward Belvedere to soiree of the Duchess
+Amelia, who was inspired with a love for the fine arts, and particularly
+literature. The two gentlemen had busily occupied themselves in
+preparing them for the lady of honor, Fraulein von Gochhausen, and,
+although aided by Goethe's servant, Philip, and workmen, it was late
+when they arrived.
+
+As they entered, the ladies and gentlemen were seated in a large circle
+around the centre-table. At one end sat the Duchesses Amelia and Louisa,
+the mother and wife of Charles Augustus and near the former her friend
+and favorite the poet Wieland, once the tutor of her son the duke. Near
+the poet sat an elderly gentleman of cheerful, good-natured mien, who,
+with the exception of Wieland, was the only one who did not present
+himself, like the duke and Goethe, in Werther costume. He wore a white,
+silver-embroidered coat, with a dark-blue satin vest, and breeches of
+the same, shoes with buckles, and bosom and wrist ruffles of lace.
+
+This gentleman, with the bright, sparkling eyes, and pleasant face, was
+the poet Gleim, who looked very comfortable and stately in the circle
+of powdered perukes. His admiration for Frederick the Great had inspired
+him to write some beautiful military songs, and his love of poetry
+and literature made him an enthusiastic admirer of all those devoted
+themselves to literary pursuits. Besides, he was rich and liberal, and
+it was very natural that the poets, and authors exerted themselves with
+marked assiduity to please Father Gleim. They were gratified to have
+him print their works for a small remuneration in an annual which he
+entitled the "Almanach of the Muses." He was just reading aloud at the
+duchess's soiree from the late edition of the almanach, and the society
+listened with earnest and kind attention, occasionally interrupted with
+an enthusiastic "Bravo!" or "Excellent!" from the duchess, followed by
+a murmur of assent around the table, which caused the poet's face to
+brighten with joy and satisfaction, and him to read on with increased
+energy.
+
+The entrance of the duke and Goethe was unobserved, as it was understood
+that the former wished no notice to be taken of his going or coming, and
+the duchess had also waved her hand, not to interrupt Father Gleim. The
+poet has just finished the new poem of melodious rhythm of imprisoned
+Shubart. As he paused to wipe the perspiration from his brow and sip
+a little raspberry water, a tall, slender young man, in the Werther
+costume, approached, bowing, and regarding the poet so kindly, that the
+glance of his fine black eyes fell like a sunbeam on the heart of the
+old man. "You appear somewhat fatigued, my good sir," said the unknown,
+in a sweet, sonorous voice. "Will you not permit me to relieve you, and
+read in your stead from this glorious book of yours?"
+
+"Do so, my dear Gleim," said the Duchess Amelia, smiling, "you seem
+really exhausted; let the young man continue the agreeable and welcome
+entertainment."
+
+Father Gleim was very well pleased; he handed the book to the young
+stranger with a graceful bow, as the latter seated himself opposite to
+him, and next to Fraulein Gochhausen.
+
+He commenced in a clear, distinct voice. The verses flowed from his lips
+gracefully, and in a cultivated style. The company listened with devoted
+attention, and Father Gleim, the protector of all the young poets,
+sat delighted, nodding consent, with a pleasant smile. It must all be
+charming--it had come into existence under his fostering care. What
+beautiful verses to listen to! "Die Zephyre lauschen, Die Balche
+rauschen, Die Sonus Verbreitet ihr Licht mit Wonne!"
+
+And how charmingly the young man read them! Suddenly Father Gleim
+startled, and the smile died upon his lips. What was it? What was the
+young man reading? Verse which were not in the collection, and which
+were more remarkable than he had ever heard from his young poets. "Those
+are not in the Annual," cried Gleim, quite forgetting decorum,--"that--"
+
+One glance from the fine black eyes of the young man so confounded
+Father Gleim, that he ceased in the midst of a sentence, and, staring
+in breathless astonishment, listened. Glorious thoughts were expressed
+therein, and the poets of the Muse Almanach might have thanked God if
+the like had occurred to them. Love was not the burden of the song;
+neither hearts, griefs, nor bliss, but satire, lashing right and left
+with graceful dexterity, and dealing a harmless thrust to every one. All
+were forced to laugh; the happy faces animated and inspired every thing.
+The brilliant satirical verses rushed like rockets from the lips of the
+reader--a real illumination of wit and humor, of good-natured jokes and
+biting sarcasm, and it delighted the old man that every one had received
+hits and thrusts but himself; he had been spared until now! Every one
+regarded him, smiling and amused, as the reader exalted the merits of
+the Maecenas, and praised him highly for the interest he took in the
+poet's heart, soul, and purse, and shouted victory when one excelled.
+But suddenly the good father also changed, and, instead of the patron
+on the right throne, there was a turkey-cock on the round nest, which
+zealously sought to hatch out the many eggs that he had to take care of
+for others besides his own; he sat brooding untiringly, and shed many
+a tear of joy over the fine number of eggs, yet it happened that a
+poetical viper had put but under him one of chalk, which he cared for
+with the others.
+
+Herr Gleim could no longer contain himself, and, striking the table, he
+cried, "That is either Goethe or the devil!" The entire company burst
+into uncontrollable laughter, and the old man shouted the second time,
+though inwardly angry, "It is either Goethe or the devil!"
+
+"Both, dear Father Gleim," said Wieland, who was drying his tears from
+laughter, "it is Goethe, and he has the devil in him to-day. He is like
+a wild colt, which kicks out behind and before, and it would be well not
+to approach him too near." [Footnote: Wieland's own words.--See Lewes'
+"Life of Goethe," vol. i., p. 432.]
+
+Goethe alone retained his composure, and continued reading in a louder
+voice, which hushed all conversation. He lashed with bitter sarcasm "him
+who assumed to be a god--a wise man--and who counted for nothing better
+than a pretentious, saucy fellow, who made himself the scorn of
+the poets by his sweet, Werther-like sighs, and other worthless
+lamentations, heeding neither God nor the devil!"
+
+And so he stormed and thundered, ridiculed and slandered his own flesh
+and blood, until Goechhausen, red with anger, rose and snatched the book
+from his hand, and closed his lips with her hand, crying: "If you do
+not cease, Goethe, I will write to your beloved mother, Frau Aja, that
+a satirist, a calumniator has had the impudence to defame and slur her
+beloved son in a most sinful and shameful manner! I will write to her,
+indeed, if you do not stop!"
+
+Goethe rose, and bowing offered his hand to Father Gleim in such a
+friendly, affectionate manner, that the old man, quite delighted,
+thanked him heartily for the pleasure and surprise which he had afforded
+him.
+
+The duke, however, seated himself by the little lady of honor.
+"Thusnelda, you are an incomparable creature, and quite calculated to
+be the ancestress of all the Germans. I declare myself your cavalier for
+the evening, and will devote myself to you as your most humble servant,
+and will not quit your side for a moment."
+
+"Very beautiful it will be, my dear duke, a most charming idyl; in true
+Watteau style, I will be the sweet shepherdess, and lead your highness
+by a little ribbon. But where is my present--my surprise?"
+
+"You must not be impatient, Thusnelda, but wait what time will produce.
+You will have it; if not to-day, to-morrow. Every day brings its own
+care and sorrow."
+
+"Ah, duke, instead of giving me my surprise, you beat me with doggerels.
+That comes from having a Goethe for companion and friend. Crazy tricks,
+like chicken-pox, are contagious, and the latter you have caught,
+duke. It is a new kind of genius distemper. Very fortunately, our dear
+Countess Werther has another malady, or she might be infected. Perhaps
+she has it already, Count Werther--how is it?'
+
+"I do not know, Fraulein," replied the count, startled from reverie. "I
+really do not know! My wife is quite ill, for that reason has gone to
+our estate to recover her peace and quiet. It is unfortunately quite
+impossible for me to visit her there; but my dear, faithful friend,
+Baron von Einsiedel, will drive over to-morrow at my request, my
+commission--"
+
+"To set the fox to keep the geese," interrupted Thusnelda in her lively
+manner.
+
+"No, not that, Fraulein," said Count Werther, quite confused, as the
+duke burst into a merry laugh, calling Thusnelda a witty Kobold, and as
+her faithful Celadon offered her his arm to conduct her to his mother,
+the Duchess Amelia.
+
+The company were all in a very happy frame of mind. Goethe's charming
+impromptu had kindled wit and humor upon every lip. He himself was the
+happiest of all, for Charlotte was by his side, gazing upon him with her
+large, thoughtful eyes, and permitting him to be her cavalier for the
+evening.
+
+The duke also devoted himself to Fraulein von Goechhausen, who was this
+evening unsurpassably witty and caustic, delighting him, and making the
+Duchess Amelia laugh, and the Duchess Louisa sometimes to slightly shrug
+her shoulders and shake her head with disapproval.
+
+In the midst of a most interesting conversation with Frau von Stein,
+Goethe was informed that some one awaited him in the anteroom. He went
+out quickly, and upon returning he whispered to the duke, who nodded,
+and answered him in a low tone, and then Goethe betook himself to the
+Duchess Amelia.
+
+"What is it?" the latter asked. "Have important dispatches arrived?"
+
+"No; I come to your highness as courier from your son. The duke begs
+that you will lock the door of your anteroom when you retire, and that
+you will upon no condition open it, no matter how much Thusnelda may beg
+and implore."
+
+"Will you not injure my poor Goechhausen, you wanton fellow?"
+
+"No! it is not very dangerous, duchess. It is only a harmless surprise,
+which the duke promised Fraulein von Goechhausen."
+
+"Very well, then, it can take place; I promise to be quite deaf to all
+Thusnelda's knocking and thumping, and I shall be glad to be informed
+to-morrow what the trick is. I prefer not to inquire to-day, as I might
+feel obliged to veto it if it were too severe. But look, the Duchess
+Louisa will break up; does she know any thing about the affair?"
+
+"No, your highness, you know very well that the young duchess--"
+
+"Is much more sensible than the old one, and shakes her head
+disapprovingly when she hears of your ingenuous tricks. Perhaps it would
+be well if I were equally sensible, but there is no help for it. I like
+bright, happy people, and I think when youth vents itself, old age is
+more sedate and reasonable."
+
+"You are quite right, duchess. Mankind resembles new wine. If the must
+does not ferment and foam well, no good wine will come of it. But
+look at our Charles, with the saucy jest upon his lip, and the fire of
+inspiration in those bright brown eyes. One day a fine, strong wine will
+clear itself from this glorious fermenting must."
+
+"I hope so, Goethe, and if the gods grant it, the great merit will
+belong to you, who have proved yourself a good vintager, and we will
+rejoice together in your glorious success."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. WITCHCRAFT
+
+
+An hour later the palace Belvedere was silent and deserted; the guests
+had taken their departure. The duchess had her suite and commanded them
+to retire. Fraulein von Gochhausen alone remained with her mistress,
+chatting by the bedside, and recapitulating in her amusing style all
+important and unimportant events of the soiree, The duchess smiled at
+the mischievous remarks with which she ornamented her relation, and at
+her keen, individualizing of persons.
+
+"Fraulein Gochhausen, you are the most wicked and the merriest
+mocking-bird God ever created," cried the duchess, "Have done with your
+scandals, go up to your room, piously say your evening prayers, and
+stretch yourself upon your maiden bed."
+
+"Soon, duchess; only one thing more have I to call your attention to.
+There is a gossip afloat about the Werthers. I perceive it in the air,
+as the dove scents the vulture."
+
+"You alarm me, Gochhausen; what good is it? You do not mean that the
+lovely Countess Werther--"
+
+"Is not only very weary of her husband, but looks about for a
+substitute--a friend, as the ingenious ladies now call him. That is
+what I mean, and I know the so-called friend which the sweet sentimental
+countess has chosen."
+
+"It is the Baron von Einsiedel, is it not?" asked the duchess. "That is
+to say, his younger brother, the gay lieutenant, not our good friend par
+excellence.
+
+"Yes, I mean the brother, and I have warned and taunted the count this
+week past, but it is impossible to awake him from his stupidity and
+thoughtlessness."
+
+"Again you are giving loose reins to your naughty tongue, Thusnelda.
+Count Werther is a thoroughly scholarly person, whom I often envy his
+knowledge of the languages. He has studied Sanscrit and the cuneated
+letters, among other ancient tongues."
+
+"It may be that he understands the dead languages, but the living ones
+not in the least. The language of the eyes and inspiration he is blind
+to, with seeing eyes! My dear duchess, if you are not watchful, and
+prevent the affair with timely interference, a scandal will grow out
+of it, and you know well that it would be a welcome opportunity for our
+Weimar Philistines (as the Jena students call commonplace gossips) to
+cry 'Murder,' and howl about the immoral example of geniuses, which
+Wolfgang Goethe has introduced at court."
+
+"You are right," said the duchess, musingly; "your apt tongue and keen
+eye are ever carefully watching, like a good shepherd-dog, that none of
+the sheep go astray and are lost. And you do not mind attacking this or
+that one in the leg with your sharp teeth!"
+
+"Let those scream who are unjustly bitten, your highness! Believe me,
+the countess will not cry out; she will much more likely take care
+not to receive a well-merited rebuke. I beg your grace to prevent the
+gossip! Not on account of this silly, sentimental young woman, or her
+pedantic husband, but that our young duke and Goethe may not be exposed
+to scandal, as well as your highness."
+
+"You are right--we must take care to prevent it. Has not the countess
+been absent at her estate four days?"
+
+"Yes, your highness, it is just this that troubles me. She went away as
+sound as a fish, and has suddenly fallen very ill. No physician has been
+called, but, to-morrow, the count will commission his dear friend
+the baron to drive to his country-seat, and bring him tidings of his
+better-half."
+
+"We must circumvent this. In the morning we will arrange a
+pleasure-drive, of the whole court, to the country-seat of Count
+Werther. It shall be a surprise. Let Fourier give out the invitations
+early to-morrow, for a country party, destination unknown. The
+distribution of the couples in the carriages shall be decided by lot.
+Take care that Lieutenant Einsiedel is your cavalier, so that when we
+arrive at the little Werther, he will already be appropriated, and then
+we will induce her to return with us and spend some time at Belvedere.
+Now, good-night, Thusnelda; I am very tired and need repose. Sleep
+already weighs upon my eyelids, and will close them as soon as you are
+gone. Good-night, my child--sleep well!"
+
+The little deformed court lady kissed the extended hand, the
+candlestick, with only a stump of a taper in it, and withdrew from
+the princely sleeping-room, courtesying, and wishing her mistress
+good-night, with pleasant dreams.
+
+The anteroom was dark and deserted. The lights were all extinguished,
+and Fraulein Goechhausen was, in truth, the only person who had not long
+since retired in the ducal palace. She was accustomed to be the last,
+accustomed to traverse the long, lonely corridors, and mount two flights
+of stairs to her bedroom upon the third story. The gay duchess, being
+very fond of society, had had the second story arranged guest-chambers
+and drawing-rooms.
+
+Why should the little court lady be afraid to-night? She had not thought
+of it, but stepped forward briskly to mount the stairs. It was surely
+very disagreeable for the wind to extinguish her lamp at that instant,
+just at the turning of stairs, and she could not account for it, as none
+of the windows were open, and there was no trace of a draft. However,
+it was an undeniable fact, the light was out and she was in total
+darkness--not even a star was to be seen in the clouded sky. It was,
+indeed, true that Thusnelda was so accustomed to the way that it
+mattered little whether she had a light or not. Now she had reached the
+corridor and she could not fail to find the door, as there was but
+one, that of her own room. She stretched out her hand to open it, but,
+strange to say, she missed the knob! Then she was sure that it was
+farther on; she felt along the wall, but still it eluded her grasp. It
+was unheard of--no handle and not a door even to be found! The wall was
+bare and smooth, and papered the entire length. A slight shudder crept
+over the courageous little woman's heart, and she could not explain to
+herself what it all meant. She called her maid, but no answer--not
+a sound interrupted the stillness! "I will go down to the duchess,"
+murmured Thusnelda; "perhaps she is awake, and then I can re-light my
+taper!"
+
+The door was fastened; the duchess had locked the ante-room to-night for
+the first time.
+
+Thusnelda tapped lightly, and begged an entrance humbly and imploringly.
+No answer, every thing was quiet. She recalled that the duchess had told
+her that she was very weary, and would sleep as soon as she was alone,
+which she undoubtedly had done.
+
+Thusnelda did not presume to awake her by knocking louder. She would
+be patient, and mount again to her room. Surely she must have made a
+mistake, and turned to the left of the corridor, where there was no
+door, instead of the right, as she ought to have done. It must be that
+it was her fault. She groped along the dark flights of stairs to the
+upper gallery, carefully seeking the right this time, but in vain. Again
+she felt only the smooth wall. Terrified, she knew not whether she was
+awake or dreaming, or whether she might not be in an enchanted castle,
+or walking in her sleep in a strange house. Just here she ought to find
+her room and the maid awaiting her, but it was lonely, deserted, and
+strange--no door, no maid. Thusnelda, with trembling hands smoothed her
+face, pulled first her nose, and then her hair, to identify herself.
+"Is it I?" she said. "Am I, indeed, myself? Am I awake? I know that I am
+lady of honor to the Duchess Amelia, and that upon the upper story is my
+room. Do not be foolish, and imagine that witchcraft comes to pass; the
+door is there, and it can be found." Thusnelda renewed her search with
+out-spread arms and wide-spread fingers, feeling first this side of the
+wall and then the other.
+
+By daylight the deformed little lady of honor must have been a very
+droll figure, in full toilet, dancing along the wall as if suspended
+by her outstretched hands. Oh, it was quite vain to seek any longer. It
+must be enchantment, and the door had disappeared. An indefinable dream
+crept over Thusnelda, and she was cast down. For the first time a jest
+failed her trembling lips, and she wept with anguish. Yes, she, the
+keen, mordant, jesting little woman, prayed and implored her Maker
+to unloose her from the enchantment, and permit her to find the
+long-sought-for entrance. But praying was in vain, the door was not to
+be found, it was witch craft, and she must submit to it. The rustling
+and moving her arms frightened her now, and when she walked the darkness
+prevented her seeing if any one followed her; so she crouched upon
+the floor, yielding to the unavoidable necessity passing the night
+there--the night of enchantment and witchery.[Footnote: See Lewes' "Life
+and Writings of Goethe," vol. 1., p. 408.]
+
+Not alone for Fraulein Goechhausen was this beautiful May-night of
+sad experience with witches. There were other places at Weimar. In the
+neighborhood of the ducal park, in the midst of green-meadows, stood a
+simple little cottage. Near it flowed the Ilm, spanned by three bridges,
+all closed by gates, so that no one could reach the cottage without the
+occupant's consent. It was as secure as a fortress or an island of the
+sea, and distinctly visible even in the night, its white walls rising
+against the dark perspective of the park. This is the poet's Eldorado,
+his paradise, presented to Wolfgang Goethe by his friend the Duke
+Charles Augustus. It was late as the possessor wound his way toward his
+Tusculum, as he familiarly called it, and, more attracted by the aspect
+of the heavens than by sleep, sought the balcony, to gaze at the dark
+mass of clouds chasing each other like armies in retreat and pursuit;
+one moment veiling the moon, at another revealing her full disk, and
+soon again covering the earth with dark shadows, until the lightning
+flashed down in snaky windings, making the darkness momentarily visible
+with her lurid glare. It was a glorious spectacle for the intuitive,
+sympathetic soul of the poet, and he yielded to its influence with
+delight. He heard the voice of God in the rolling of the thunder, and
+sought to comprehend the unutterable, and understand it in this poetical
+sense. Voices spake to him in the rushing of the storm, the sighing of
+the trees, and the rustling of the foliage. The storm passed quickly, a
+profound quiet and solemnity spread out over the nightly world, and it
+lay as if in repose, smiling in blissful dreams. The air was filled
+with perfumes, wafted to the balcony upon which dreamed the poet with
+unclosed eyelids and waking thoughts. The clouds were all dispersed;
+full and clear was suspended the moon in the deep, blue vault, where
+twinkled thousands of stars, whispering of unknown worlds, and the
+mysteries of Nature, and the greatness of Him who created them all.
+
+"Oh, beloved, golden moon, how calmly you look down upon me, sublime and
+lovely at the same time! When I gaze at you, moving so quietly, floating
+in infinity, and contemplating reflect thyself in finiteness, I think of
+you, oh Charlotte, who stands above me like the moon so bright and mild,
+and I envelop myself in your rays, and my spirit becomes heavenly in
+your light.
+
+     Mir ist es, denk ich nur an Dich,
+     Als in den Mond zu seh'n,
+     Ein suesser Friede weht um mich,
+     Weiss nicht, wie mir gescheh'n!
+
+"Yes, like sweet peace, and quiet, sacred moonlight, my thoughts shall
+be of you, Charlotte; not like the glowing rays of the sun, or the cold
+light of the stars. Bright and beaming like the moon you are to me,
+spreading around me your soft light. Oh, beautiful golden moon, mirrored
+in the water, you lie as in a silvery bath, and would entice me to seek
+you in the murmuring depths. Hark! how the ruffled waves of the Ilm
+with repeated gentle caresses kiss the shore, rush from thence in golden
+links down the river! Sweet of the Ilm, I come, I come!"
+
+Goethe hastened from the balcony, threw aside his apparel, plunged into
+the silvery flood, shouting with joy.
+
+What heavenly pleasure to float there, rocked by the murmuring waves,
+gazing at the silvery stars and the golden moon, a lovely May night,
+listening to the voices of Nature! Add to that the perfume-laden breeze
+rising from the rain-refreshed meadows. How glorious to plunge into the
+cool stream, splashing and dashing the water, and then to shoot like
+a fish through the drops falling like golden rain! Suddenly, while
+swimming, Goethe raised his head to listen. He thought he heard
+footsteps on the poet's forbidden bridge. The moon distinctly revealed a
+peasant from Oberweimar, who would be early to the weekly market, and so
+serve himself to the shortest route while no one could see him.
+
+"Such presumption deserves punishment, my good peasant, and if there is
+no one else to do it the ghosts must."
+
+Listen, what a savage yell from under the bridge, and then another more
+unearthly!
+
+The peasant, frightened, stopped suddenly, and looked down into the
+river. "Oh, what can it be?"
+
+A glistening white arm is raised menacingly toward the bridge. A white
+figure, with a black head and long black hair, is seen plunging
+and splashing, while fearful yells are heard from the deep. Then it
+disappeared, to return, and menace, and yell, and plunge again.
+
+The peasant shrieked with terror, and was answered with a cruel laugh.
+The white figure sank and rose from the river screeching and yelling,
+and the peasant shrieked also with terror.
+
+"A ghost! a ghost! oh, have mercy upon us! Amen! amen!"
+
+Fright lent him wings, and he fled, followed by the savage yells of the
+white figure, and never stopped until he reached Oberweimar, where
+he related to the astonished and terrified neighbors that there was
+a river-ghost just by the bridge which led to the cottage of the
+mad secretary of legation, Goethe, and which howled in the
+moonlight.[Footnote: This tradition of the ghost of the Ilm has been
+preserved in Weimar, since Goethe's nocturnal bath, until our time.--See
+Lewes, vol. i., p. 451.]
+
+With the peasant also disappeared the ghost of the Ilm.
+
+Like a happy child of Nature, refreshed, Goethe went to his room and
+then again sought the balcony, to throw himself upon the carpet and
+gaze at the blue starry vault, and enjoy the glories of heaven with
+thoughtful devotion, and think of Charlotte--only of her, not once of
+the poor Thusnelda von Goechhausen, who passed the night upon the
+stairs of the Palace Belvedere, and who, at last weary with fright and
+exhaustion, fell asleep, and was awakened by the Duchess Amelia in
+the morning, laughingly demanding why she preferred the landing of the
+stairs for a place of repose.
+
+"Because I am bewitched, duchess, and my sleeping-room has disappeared
+from earth--because some cursed demon or wizard has enchanted me, this
+wicked--"
+
+"Beware what you say!" interrupted the duchess; "it is most probably the
+duke that you are inveighing against, and calling a demon and wizard."
+
+At this Thusnelda sprang up as if struck by an electric shock--"The
+surprise, this is what the duke promised me."
+
+"Very likely," laughed the duchess. "The courier just arrived with a
+letter from my son to you, and I came to bring it myself, and found you,
+to my surprise, sleeping here. Read it, and tell me what he says!"
+
+"Oh, listen, your highness!" cried Thusnelda, after having hastily
+perused the contents of the ducal missive.
+
+"'I hope I have succeeded to surprise you! Demons and wizards have
+closed your doors, And weeping you slept on the stairway alone. All
+witchcraft has now disappeared. Go seek The surprise that from Berlin I
+brought you, Which I now offer for an atonement.'"
+
+"An insolent fellow, indeed, is my son," said the duchess, "but you see,
+Thusnelda, he says, pater peccavi, and I am convinced that you will find
+something very pretty and acceptable in your room."
+
+"I will not take it--indeed I will not," pouted the lady of honor. "He
+so fearfully tormented me last night. I assure your highness I was half
+dead with terror and--"
+
+"And yet you will forgive him, Thusnelda, for the duke is your declared
+favorite; you dare not reproach him were he never so insolent, for you
+are just as much so, and not a hair's-breadth better. Come, go up and
+see what it is."
+
+She went, and found four masons, who had been at work since daybreak to
+remove the wall and replace the door. Thusnelda was obliged to laugh in
+spite of the unhappy night she had passed, as she climbed over rubbish
+and ruins into her room, and met her maid dissolved in tears, who
+related to her that "the duke had had her walled in, for fear she would
+tell the trick to her mistress."
+
+"And so you were really hermetically sealed?" said the duchess.
+
+"Yes, your highness," whimpered the maid, "I thought I never should
+see daylight again. I wept and prayed all night. The only thing that
+consoled me was the duke's command, which Philip brought to me, to give
+this little box to Fraulein so soon as the wall should be taken away in
+the morning."
+
+"Give it to me, Lieschen," cried Thusnelda, impatiently, her face
+beaming with satisfaction, however, when she opened the box. "Now,
+duchess, that is what I call a surprise, and the duke shall be, as he
+ever has been, my favorite. If he does sometimes play rude tricks, he
+makes it all right again, in a very generous and princely manner. See
+what a beautiful watch his highness has brought me, ornamented with
+diamonds!"
+
+"Yes, it is very pretty; give it to me that I may return it to the duke,
+and not mortify him too much, as you will not wear it."
+
+"I will accept it, duchess," cried Thusnelda, laughing--"and all is
+forgiven and forgotten."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE PURSE-PROUD MAN.
+
+
+"Trude, is there no news from him yet? Have you never seen him since?
+Did he not tell you about it?"
+
+"No, my dearest Marie," sighed old Trude. "There is no word, no message
+from him. I have been twenty times to the baker's in eight days, and
+waited at the corner of the street, where we agreed to meet, but no
+Moritz was there, and I have not been able to hear any thing about him."
+
+"Something must have happened to him," sighed Marie. "He is very ill,
+perhaps dying, and--"
+
+"No, no, my child, he is not ill, I will tell you all about it, if you
+will not worry. I have been to Herr Moritz's lodgings to-day. I could
+not wait any longer, and--"
+
+"Did you see him, and speak with him, Trude?"
+
+"No Marie, he was not there; and the people in the house told me that he
+had been gone for a week."
+
+"Gone!" repeated Marie, thoughtfully. "What does it mean? What could
+persuade him to abandon me in this hour of need? Tell me, Trude, what do
+you think? Console me if you can. You really know nothing further than
+that he is gone?"
+
+"A little bit more, but not much, my heart's child. When the people told
+me that he had disappeared eight days ago, it seemed as if one of the
+Alps had fallen on my heart, and my limbs trembled so I could go no
+farther, and I was obliged to sit down upon the stairs and cry bitterly,
+picturing all sorts of dreadful things to myself."
+
+"Dreadful things?" asked Marie. "Oh, Trude, you do not believe that my
+good, brave Moritz could do any thing sinful and cowardly, like wicked
+men? You do not think that my beloved--oh, no, no--I know that he is
+more noble; he will bear the burden of life as I will, so long as it
+pleases God."
+
+The old woman hung down her head, and humbly folded her hands. "Forgive
+me, my child, that I have such weak and sinful thoughts. I will
+apologize for them in my heart to you and your beloved so long as I
+live. After I had cried enough, I determined to go to the Gray Cloister,
+and beg the director to see me!"
+
+"Did you see him to speak with him, dear good Trude?"
+
+"Yes, dear child. I told him I was an aged aunt of Herr Moritz, who had
+come to Berlin to visit him; and finding that he was absent, I would
+like to know where he had gone, and, how long he would remain away."
+
+"Oh, Trude, how clever you are, and how kindly you think of every
+thing!" cried Marie, embracing her old nurse, and kissing affectionately
+her sunburnt, wrinkled cheek. "What did he say?"
+
+"He told me that Herr Moritz had begged permission to be absent fourteen
+days to take an urgent, unavoidable journey; that ten days had already
+expired, and he would soon return."
+
+"Then he will be here in four days, and perhaps will bring hope and aid!
+He has gone to seek it; I know and I feel it, though I cannot divine
+where the assistance will come from. Oh, Trude, if I could only gain a
+favorable delay until Moritz returns!"
+
+"Every thing is arranged," murmured Trude. "The marriage license is
+already made out, and Parson Dietrich has promised to be ready at any
+hour. Herr Ebenstreit has sent the money, doubling the amount required
+to the 'Invalids' Hospital' at Berlin, so that when the papers of
+nobility arrive, there--"
+
+"Hush!" interrupted Marie, "do not speak of it. It is fearful to think
+of, and it crazes me to hear it. I will resort to every extreme. Since
+my father and mother are deaf to my entreaties, I will try to move him
+to pity. I have never been able to see him alone; my mother is watchful
+that an explanation should be impossible between us. I will implore this
+man to have pity upon me, and confide in him to whom they would sell
+me."
+
+Trude shook her head mournfully. "I fear it will be in vain, dear child.
+This man has no heart. I have proved him, and I know it.--Hark the bell
+rings! Who can it be?"
+
+Both stepped out of the little garret-room to peep over the banister.
+Since Marie had been betrothed to the rich banker Ebenstreit, the
+general had received from his kind wife a servant in pompous livery for
+his own service. This servant had already opened the door, and Marie
+heard him announce in a loud voice, "Herr Ebenstreit!"
+
+"He!" Marie started back with horror. "He, so early in the morning! this
+is no accident, Trude. What does it mean? Hush! the servant is coming!"
+
+"I will go down," whispered Trude; "perhaps I can hear something."
+
+Trude hurried away as her young lady glided back into her room, and
+never glanced at the servant who sprang past her upon the stairs.
+
+"He is a hypocrite and a spy; he has been hired to watch and observe my
+child, and he will betray her if he discovers any thing."
+
+The servant announced, with respectful, humble mien, that Herr
+Ebenstreit had arrived, and Frau von Werrig desired her daughter to
+descend to the parlor.
+
+"Very well--say that I will come directly."
+
+The servant remained rubbing his hands in an undecided, embarrassed
+manner.
+
+"Why do you not go down?" asked Marie. "Have you any thing further to
+tell me?"
+
+"I would say," said he, spying about the room, as if he were afraid some
+one were listening, "that if a poor, simple man like myself could be
+useful to you, and you could confide in me your commissions, I should be
+too happy to prove to you that Carl Leberecht is an honest fellow, and
+has a heart, and it hurts his feelings to see the miss suffer so much."
+
+"I thank you," said Marie, gently. "I am glad to feel that you have
+sympathy for me."
+
+"If I can be of the least service to you, have the goodness to call me,
+and give me your commissions."
+
+"Indeed I will, although I do not believe it practicable."
+
+"I hope miss will not betray me to Frau von Werrig or old Trude."
+
+"No, I promise you that, and here is my hand upon it."
+
+The servant kissed the extended hand respectfully. "I will enter into
+the service of my young lady at once, and tell her she must prepare
+for the worst: Herr Ebenstreit just said, 'The diploma of nobility has
+arrived.'"
+
+Marie turned deadly pale, and for an instant it seemed as if she would
+sink down from fright, but she recovered herself and conquered her
+weakness.
+
+"Thank you, it is very well that I should know that; I will go down
+directly," said she.
+
+With calm, proud bearing Marie entered the sitting-room of her parents,
+and returned the salutations of her betrothed, who hastened toward her
+with tender assiduity.
+
+"My dear Marie," cried her mother, "I have the honor to present to you
+Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The certificate of nobility arrived this
+morning."
+
+"I congratulate you, mother--you have at last found the long-desired
+heir to your name."
+
+"Congratulate me above all, my beautiful betrothed," said Herr
+Ebenstreit, in a hoarse, scarcely intelligible voice. "This title crowns
+all my wishes, as it makes me your husband. I came to beg, dear Marie,
+that our marriage should take place to-morrow, as there is nothing now
+to prevent."
+
+"Sir," she proudly interrupted him, "have I ever permitted this familiar
+appellation?"
+
+"I have allowed it," blurted out the general, packed in cushions in his
+roiling chair. "Proceed, my dear son."
+
+The latter bowed with a grateful smile, and continued: "I would beg,
+my dear Marie, to choose whether our wedding-journey shall be in the
+direction of Italy, Spain, France, or wherever else it may please her."
+
+"Is it thus arranged?" asked Marie. "Is the marriage to take place early
+to-morrow, and then the happy pair take a journey?"
+
+"Yes," answered her mother, hastily, "it is so decided upon, and it
+will be carried out. You may naturally, my dear daughter, have some
+preference; so make it known--I am sure your betrothed will joyfully
+accord it."
+
+"I will avail myself of this permission," she quietly answered. "I wish
+to have a private conversation with this gentleman immediately, and
+without witnesses."
+
+"Oh, how unfortunate I am!" sighed Herr Ebenstreit. "My dear Marie asks
+just that which I unfortunately cannot grant her."
+
+"What should prevent your fulfilling my wish?" asked Marie.
+
+"My promise," he whined. "On the very day of my betrothal, I was obliged
+to promise my dear mother-in-law never to speak with you alone or
+correspond with my sweet lady-love."
+
+"These are the rules of decency and of etiquette, which I hope my
+daughter will respect," said Frau von Werrig, in a severe tone. "No
+virtuous young girl would presume to receive her betrothed alone or
+exchange love-letters with him before marriage!"
+
+"After the wedding there will be opportunities enough for such follies,"
+grumbled the general.
+
+"You may be sure that I shall use them, dear father," laughed
+Ebenstreit. "I would beg my respected mother to release me a half-hour
+from my oath to-day, that I may indulge the first expressed wish that my
+future wife favors me with."
+
+"It is impossible, my son. I never deviate from my principles. You will
+not speak with my daughter before marriage, except in the presence of
+her parents."
+
+"Mother, do you insist upon it?" cried Marie, terrified. "Will you not
+indulge this slight wish?"
+
+"'This slight wish!'" sneered her mother. "As if I did not know why you
+ask this private conversation. You wish to persuade our son-in-law to
+what you in vain have tried to implore your parents to do. A modest
+maiden has nothing to say to her future husband, which her parents, and
+above all her mother, could not hear. So tell your betrothed what you
+desire."
+
+"Well, mother, you must then take the consequences.--Herr Ebenstreit,
+they will force me to become your wife, they will sell me as merchandise
+to you, and you have accepted the bargain in good faith, believing that
+I agree to sacrifice my freedom and human rights for riches. They have
+deceived you, sir! I am not ready to give myself up to the highest
+bidder. I am a woman, with a heart to love and hate, who esteems
+affection superior to wealth. I cannot marry you, and I beg you not to
+teach me to hate you."
+
+A savage curse broke forth from the general, who, forgetting his gout,
+rose furious, shaking his clinched fist at his daughter.
+
+His wife was immediately by his side, and pushed him into his arm-chair,
+commanding him, in her harsh, cold to remain quiet and take care of his
+health, and listen to what his son-in-law had to say to his unfeeling
+and unnatural daughter. "He alone has to decide.--Speak, my dear son,"
+said she, turning to the young man, who, with a malicious smile, had
+listened to the baroness, fixing his dull-blue eyes upon the young girl,
+who never seemed so desirable to him, as she now stood before him with
+glowing cheeks.
+
+"Again I say, speak, my dear son, and tell my daughter the truth; do you
+hear, the truth?"
+
+"If you will permit me, my dearest mother, I will," answered Ebenstreit,
+with submissive kindness, again regarding the daughter. "You have made
+me a sad confession, Marie," said he, sighing, "but I will acknowledge
+that I am not surprised, for your mother told me when I asked for your
+hand, that she feared I should never gain your consent, for you did not
+love me, although she herself, and the general, would grant theirs."
+
+"Was that all that I told you?" asked the mother, coldly.
+
+"No, not all," continued Ebenstreit, slightly inclining; "you added, 'My
+daughter loves a beggar, a poor school-master, and she entertains the
+romantic idea of marrying him.'"
+
+"And what did you reply?" asked Marie, almost breathless.
+
+"My dear Marie, I laughed, repeating my proposal of marriage to your
+mother, saying, that I was ready to take up the combat with the poor
+pedagogue, and that you seemed all the more interesting and amiable for
+this romantic love. Life is so tedious and wretched, that one is glad
+to have some change and distraction. I assure you, I have not been so
+entertained for long years, as in the last fourteen days in this
+silent war with you. It amuses me infinitely to see you so stubborn and
+prudish, and increases my love for you. How could it be otherwise? The
+rich banker, Ebenstreit, has never seen a woman who was not ready to
+accept his hand, and why should he not love the first one who resists
+it? You have excited my self-love and vanity. You have made the marriage
+a matter of ambition, and you will comprehend that my answer is:
+'Fraulein von Leuthen must and shall be my wife, no matter what it costs
+me. She defies my riches and despises money, so I will force her to
+respect my wealth and recognize its power. Besides, she is a cruel,
+egotistical daughter; who has no pity for her poor parents, and is
+capable of seeing them perish for her foolish attachment. I will
+make her a good child, and force her to make her parents, and thereby
+herself, happy.' All this I said to myself, and I have acted and shall
+act accordingly. I have only to add that the ceremony will take place
+to-morrow, at eleven. We will leave immediately after. Have the goodness
+therefore to choose in which direction, that I may at once make the
+necessary arrangements."
+
+"Lost--lost without hope!" cried Marie, in anguish, covering her face
+with her hands.
+
+"Rather say rescued from misfortune," answered Ebenstreit, quietly.
+"Believe me, there is but one sorrow that may not be borne, may not be
+conquered, and that is poverty, which is a corroding, consuming malady,
+annihilating body, and soul, swifter and surer than the most subtle
+poison. It stifles all noble feelings, all poetical thoughts and great
+deeds, and, believe me, love even cannot resist its terrible power. One
+day you will understand this. I will be patient and indulgent, and await
+it with hope."
+
+"Oh, what a noble and high-minded man!" cried the mother, with
+emphasis.--"Marie should kneel and thank her Maker for such a
+magnanimous savior and lover, who will shield her from all evil and
+misfortune."
+
+Sobbing and sighing, the daughter had stood with her face concealed;
+now she regarded the cold-hearted, smiling woman, with flashing eyes and
+keen contempt.
+
+"Thank him!" she cried; "no, I accuse, I curse him. He is an atheist,
+and denies love. He is not capable of a noble thought or action,
+scorning and defaming all that is beautiful and elevated, worshipping
+only mammon. I will never marry him. You may force me to the altar, and
+there I will denounce him."
+
+"She will kill me," cried the general; "she will murder her aged
+parents, leaving them to starve and perish, and--"
+
+"Silence!" commanded his wife. "Leave off your complaints, she is not
+worth the tears or remonstrances of her parents. She would try to be
+our murderess, but she shall not.--My son, inform her of your decision.
+Answer her."
+
+"The response to your romantic language is simple and natural, my dear
+Marie. I have already entered into your feelings, and am prepared for
+this idea of refusing your lover at the altar, which is found in novels,
+and I supposed that it might occur to you. Money compasses all things
+and according to our wishes. My fortune procures for me a dispensation
+from public authorities to be married here in the house of our dear
+parents. The law demands four witnesses, who will be represented by your
+parents, my servant Philip, and the sacristan whom the clergyman will
+bring."
+
+"And they will hear me abjure you."
+
+"It is very possible, dearest, but the witnesses will not listen to
+you. Money makes the deaf to hear, and the hearing ones deaf. Old parson
+Dietrich knows the story of your love, and believes, with us, that it is
+a malady that you must be cured of. Therefore, in pity to you, he will
+not listen, and the others are paid to keep silent."
+
+"Is there no hope, O Heaven?" cried Marie, imploringly. "O God, Thou
+hast permitted it--hast Thou no pity in my need, and sendest me no aid?"
+Rushing to her father, and kneeling at his feet, she continued: "Have
+mercy upon your poor child! You are an old man, and may live but a few
+years; do not burden your conscience with the fearful reproaches of your
+only child, whom you will condemn to an inconsolably long and unhappy
+life."
+
+"Have you no pity yourself? Do you not know that I, your father, am so
+poor, that I have not even the necessary care? You wish your parents to
+sacrifice themselves for you, and suffer want! No, the daughter should
+sacrifice herself for her parents."
+
+"A beautiful sacrifice, a fine sorrow!" sneered her mother. "She will
+be a rich woman, and have the most splendid house and furniture and most
+costly equipage in Berlin!"
+
+"And a husband who adores her," cried Ebenstreit, "and who will feel it
+his duty to make her and her parents happy. Resolve bravely to bury the
+past, and look the immutable future joyfully in the face. Eleven will be
+the happy hour; fear not that the altar will not be worthy the charming
+bride of such a rich family. Money will procure every thing, and I will
+send a florist who will change this room into a blooming temple, fit to
+receive the goddess of love. In your room you will find the gift of my
+affection, a simple wedding-dress, which I trust you will approve of.
+Oh, do not shake your head, do not say that you will never wear it; you
+must believe that all resistance is in vain. You will become my wife, I
+and my money will it."
+
+"And I," cried Marie, standing before him pale and defiant, regarding
+him with unspeakable contempt, "I and my love will it not. May God judge
+between us! May He forgive those who have brought this misfortune upon
+me! I can only say, 'Woe to them!'"
+
+"Woe to you!" cried her mother. "Woe to the seducer who has persuaded
+our child to sin and crime, and--"
+
+"Hush mother! I will not permit you to slander him whom I love, and ever
+shall, so long--"
+
+"Until you forget him, and love me, Marie," said Ebenstreit. Approaching
+her, he seized her hand, and pressed a kiss upon it.
+
+She drew it away with disgust, and turned slowly to the door, tossing
+back her head proudly. "Where are you going?" demanded her mother.
+
+With her hand upon the knob, she replied, turning her pale, wan face
+to her mother, "To my own room, which I suppose is permitted to me, as
+there is nothing more to be said."
+
+Her mother would reply, and retain her, but her son-in-law held her
+gently back. "Let her go," said he; "she needs rest for composure and to
+accustom herself to the thought that her fate is unavoidable."
+
+"But what if she should resort to desperate means in her mad infatuation
+and foolish passion? Some one must watch her continually, for she may
+try to elope."
+
+"You are right, dearest mother, some one must be with her, in whom she
+will confide. Would it not be possible to win old Trude?"
+
+"No, nothing would gain her; she is a silly fool, who thinks only Marie
+is of consequence."
+
+Ebenstreit shrugged his shoulders. "That means that she would sell
+herself at a high price. I beg that you will send for her."
+
+"You will see," said she, calling the old woman, who entered from the
+opposite door.
+
+Trude looked about, scowling and grumbling. "Leberecht told me my
+mistress called me."
+
+"Why do you then look so furious, and what are you seeking on the
+table?" asked Frau von Werrig.
+
+"My money," cried Trude, vehemently. "I thought that you called me to
+pay me, and that my wages were all counted out on the table. But I see
+there is nothing there, and I fear I shall get none, and be poor as a
+church-mouse all my life long. Your honor promised me positively
+that, as soon as the wedding was decided upon, you would pay me every
+farthing, with interest, and I depended upon it."
+
+"You shall have all, and much more than the general's wife promised you,
+if you will be a true and faithful servant to us," said Ebenstreit.
+
+"That I always have been, and ever shall be," snarled Trude. "No person
+can say aught against me. Now, I want my money."
+
+"And obstinate enough you have been too," said her mistress. "Can you
+deny that you have not always taken my daughter's part?"
+
+"I do not deny it. I have nursed her from childhood, and I love her as
+my own child, and would do any thing to make her happy!"
+
+"Do you believe, Trude," cried the general, "that Marie could be
+happy with that poor, starving wretch of a school-master? Has she not
+experienced in her own home the misfortune and shame of poverty?"
+
+"I know it well," sighed the old one, sadly, "and it has converted me to
+believe that it would be a great misfortune for Marie to marry the poor
+school-master."
+
+"Well, will you then faithfully help us to prevent it?" quickly asked
+Ebenstreit.
+
+"How can I do it?" she sighed, shrugging her shoulder.
+
+"You can persuade my daughter to be reasonable, and yield to that which
+she cannot prevent. You are the only one who can make any impression
+upon Marie, as she confides in you. Watch her, that in a moment of
+passionate desperation she does not commit some rash act. You can tell
+us, further, what she says, and warn us of any crazy plan she might form
+to carry out her own will."
+
+"That is to say, I must betray my Marie?" cried Trude, angrily.
+
+"No, not betray, but rescue her. Will you do it?" asked Ebenstreit.
+
+"I wish to be paid my wages, my two hundred thalers, that I have
+honestly earned, and I will have them."
+
+Ebenstreit took a piece of paper from his pocket. Writing a few lines
+with a pencil, he laid it upon the table. "If you will take this to
+my cashier after the ceremony to-morrow, he will pay you four hundred
+thalers."
+
+"Four hundred thalers in cash," cried Trude, joyfully clapping her
+hands. "Shall all that beautiful money be mine, and--No, I do not
+believe you," she cried, her face reassuming its gloomy, suspicious
+look. "You promise it to me to-day, that I may assist you, and persuade
+Marie to the marriage, but to-morrow, when old Trude is of no more use,
+you will send me away penniless. Oh, I know how it is. I have lived
+long enough to understand the tricks of rich people. I will see the cash
+first--only for that will I sell myself."
+
+"The old woman pleases me," said Ebenstreit. "She is practical, and
+she is right.--If I promise you the money in an hour, will you persuade
+Marie to cease her foolish resistance, and be my wife? Will you watch
+over her, and tell us if any thing unusual occurs?"
+
+"Four hundred thalers is a pretty sum," repeated Trude, in a low voice
+to herself. "I might buy myself a place in the hospital, and have enough
+left to get me a new bed and neat furniture and--"
+
+Here her voice was lost in unintelligible mumbling, and, much excited,
+she appeared to count eagerly. With her bony forefinger she numbered
+over the fingers of her left hand, as if each were a fortune that she
+must verify and examine.
+
+The mother and the banker regarded each other with mocking looks; the
+general looked at the money, grumbling: "If I had had four hundred
+thalers the last time I played, I could have won back my money in
+playing again."
+
+"Old woman," said Ebenstreit, "have you not finished with your
+reckoning?"
+
+"Yes," she said, with an exultant laugh, "I have done! Four hundred
+thalers are not sufficient. I must have five, and if you will give them
+to me in cash in an hour, then I will do every thing that you wish, and
+persuade Marie to the marriage. I will watch her day and night, and tell
+you every thing that she says and does. But I must have five hundred in
+cash!"
+
+Ebenstreit turned his dull-blue eyes to Frau von Werrig with a
+triumphant smile. "Did you not tell me the old woman could not be
+bought? I knew that I was right. You did not offer her money enough; she
+will sell herself dear as possible."
+
+"Yes, as dear as she can," laughed Trude--"five hundred is my price."
+
+"You shall have it in cash in an hour," said Ebenstreit, in a friendly
+manner.
+
+"So much money," whined the general; "it would have saved me if I had
+had it that last time."
+
+"My son-in-law, I must confess you are exceedingly generous," remarked
+the mother.
+
+"No sum would be too great to assure me my bride. Go now, Trude, you
+shall have the money in time.--Will you allow me, father, to send your
+servant to my office for it?"
+
+"Send Leberecht here, Trude!"
+
+The old woman hurried out of the room, but the door once closed, her
+manner changed. One might have supposed a sudden cramp had seized her,
+from her distorted face, and twitching and panting, and beating the air
+with her clinched fists, and her quivering lips uttering broken words.
+
+Approaching footsteps warned her to assume her general manner and
+expression, and cease her manipulations. "The ladies and gentlemen wish
+you in the parlor," mumbled Trude to the servant descending the stairs.
+"But where have you been, and what have you to do up there?"
+
+"I was looking for you, lovely one--nothing more!"
+
+"Well, now you have found me, tell me what you want? I know you were
+sneaking about, listening, because you thought I was with Marie. I
+understand you better than you think I do. I have found many a viper,
+and I am familiar with their aspect. Go! they are waiting for you, and
+let me find you again spying about, and I will throw a pail of water on
+you!"
+
+With this friendly assurance Trude dismissed Leberecht, and hastened
+with youthful activity to the little garret-room, when Marie fell upon
+her neck, weeping bitterly.
+
+"Calm yourself--do not weep so--it breaks my heart, my dear child."
+
+"And mine cannot break. I must endure all this anguish and survive this
+shame. Help me, my good mother, stand by me! It is impossible for me to
+marry that dreadful man. I have sworn constancy to my beloved Moritz,
+and I must be firm, or die!"
+
+"Die? then you will kill me!" murmured the old one, "for, if you go,
+I must go also. But we will not give up yet, as we are both living; we
+will not despair for life. I am going once more to Moritz's lodgings; it
+may be he has returned, and will rescue you."
+
+"Oh, do, good Trude; tell him that I have courage and determination to
+risk and bear every thing--that I will await him; that nothing would be
+too difficult or dangerous to serve to unite me to him! Tell him that I
+prefer a life of poverty and want by his side, to abundance and riches
+in a splendid palace with that detested creature--but no, say nothing
+about it, he knows it well! If he has returned, tell him all that has
+happened, and that I am resolved to brave the utmost, to save myself!"
+
+"I will go, dear child, but I have first my work to do, and enough of
+it too--but listen to what they have made me become." Hastily, in a
+low voice, she related to Marie the story of her corruption, excited as
+before, her limbs shaking and her fists clinched. "They say we old women
+resemble cats, but from to-day forth I know that is a shameful lie! If I
+had possessed their nature and claws, I should have sprung at the throat
+of this rascal, and torn out his windpipe; but, instead of that, I
+stood as if delighted with his degrading proposal! Oh, fie! the
+good-for-nothing kidnapper would tempt a poor creature! Let us wait,
+they will get their reward. He shall pay me the five hundred thalers,
+and then this trader of hearts shall recognize that, however much
+ill-earned money he may throw away, love and constancy are hot to be
+bought. We will teach him a lesson," and with this, the old servant
+ceased, gasping for breath.
+
+"Go now, Trude, and learn if he has returned; upon him depends my
+happiness, and life even--he is my last hope!"
+
+"I am going, but first I would get the wages of my sin, and play the
+hypocrite, and tell a few untruths; then I will go to Moritz's lodgings,
+and the baker also. Do not despair; I have a joyful presentiment that
+God will have pity upon us and send us aid." Trude kissed and embraced
+her child, and scarcely waited an hour, when she was demanded in the
+parlor to receive her money.
+
+Herr Ebenstreit was heartily delighted with her zealous impatience, and
+handed her ten rolls of gold, reminding her of the conditions.
+
+"I have already consoled her a little, and she begins to change. I hope
+every thing will turn for good. Just leave her alone with me."
+
+"But first, I must go and see my aged brother, who will take care of my
+money," replied Trude. "He is a safe man and will not spend it."
+
+"Trude," cried the general, "what an old fool! to seek at distance what
+is so near you. I will take your money, and give you interest. Do you
+hear? I will take care of it!"
+
+"Thank you, general, I'd rather give it to my brother, on account of the
+relationship." She slipped out of the room, hid the money in her bed,
+and hurriedly left the house.
+
+Scarcely an hour passed ere Trude returned as fleetly as she went. She
+cast only a look into the kitchen, and hastened up to Marie's room. Her
+success was evident in her happy, smiling face, and coming home she had
+repeated to herself, "How happy Marie will be!" almost the entire way.
+
+She had but closed the door, when the mean little Leberecht glided from
+behind the chimney, and crept to listen at the door.
+
+Within was a lively conversation, and twice a shout of joy was heard and
+Marie, exultant, cried, "Oh, Trude! dear Trude! all goes well, I fear
+nothing now. God has sent me the savior which I implored!"
+
+Leberecht stood, bent over, applying his ear to the keyhole, listening
+to every word.
+
+Oh, Trude! if you could only have seen the traitor, glued to the door,
+with open eyes and mouth! Could you have seen the eavesdropper rubbing
+his hands together, grinning, and listening in breathless suspense!
+
+Why cannot you surprise him, Trude, and fulfil your threat to deluge him
+and chase him away from your child's door? They forgot the necessity of
+prudence, and the possibility of being overheard. At last it occurred
+to the old servant, and she tore open the door, but no one was there--it
+was deserted and still.
+
+"God be thanked, no one has listened," whispered Trude. "I will go down
+and tell them that I hope, if we can stay alone all day, you will be
+calmer and more reasonable."
+
+"Do it, Trude; I do not dare to see any one for fear my face will betray
+me, and my mother has very sharp eyes. Return soon."
+
+She opened the door, and saw not the eavesdropper and spy, who had but
+just time to conceal himself, and stand maliciously grinning at the
+retreating figure of the faithful servant.
+
+He slipped lightly from his hiding-place down to his sleeping-room, in
+a niche under the stairs. For a long time he reflected, upon his
+bedside--his watery blue eyes staring at nothing. "This must be well
+considered," he mumbled. "There is, at last, a capital to be won. Which
+shall I do first, to grasp a good deal? Shall I wait, or go at once to
+Herr Ebenstreit? Very naturally they would both deny it, and say that I
+had made up the whole story to gain money. I had better let the affair
+go on: they can take a short drive, and when they are about an hour
+absent, I will sell my secret at a higher price. Now I will pretend to
+be quite harmless, and after supper let the bomb burst!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE ELOPEMENT.
+
+
+Evening had set in. The card-table had been arranged, and Leberecht had
+rolled his master to it, taking his place behind his chair. The hour
+of whist the general impatiently awaited the entire day, and it was
+regularly observed. Even in the contract with his adopted son it had
+been expressly mentioned as a duty, that he should not only secure to
+them yearly income, but also devote an hour to cards every evening.
+
+Herr Ebenstreit regarded it as a tax, which he must observe until
+married. The general was much his superior at cards, and, moreover,
+played the dummy, and the stake being high, it was quite an income for
+the future father-in-law, and regarded by him as the one bright spot in
+his daily life.
+
+The cards had been dealt, and Leberecht had assorted the general's, and
+placed them in his gouty hand, when Trude entered, exultingly.
+
+"What has happened? What makes you interrupt us?" cried the general.
+"Did you not remember that I have told you always not to disturb us at
+this hour."
+
+"Yes, general, but I thought good news was never amiss."
+
+"What have you pleasant to tell us?" harshly demanded Frau von Werrig.
+
+"My young lady's compliments," cried Trude, triumphantly; "she begins
+to see that she must yield to her fate, and that it will do no good to
+resist any longer. She will be ready for the ceremony at eleven o'clock
+to-morrow morning."
+
+The general uttered a cry of joy, and struck the table so violently,
+with his hand, that the cards were thrown together.
+
+His wife bowed dignifiedly, and the happy bridegroom gave old Trude some
+gold-pieces upon the favorable news.
+
+"Has she, then, been converted by your persuasion?" he asked.
+
+"Through my persuasion and her own good sense. She understands that,
+if she cannot marry her dear Moritz, Herr Ebenstreit is the most fit
+husband, because he loves her, and is so generous to her old parents.
+One thing she would like an answer to--can I accompany her to her new
+home?"
+
+"Yes, old woman, it will be very agreeable to have so sensible a
+person," said Ebenstreit. "Tell Marie that it gives me pleasure to
+fulfil her wish."
+
+"In that case I would repeat that Fraulein begs for indulgence and
+forbearance until to-morrow, and would like to remain alone to compose
+herself."
+
+"I do not wish, in the least, to see her," said her mother; "she can do
+what she likes until then."
+
+"I will tell Marie, and she will rejoice," cried Trude.
+
+"Tell her, from her father, that it is very agreeable to him not to see
+her pale, wretched-looking face again till morning.--Now, my son,
+pay attention, and you, Trude, do not presume to interrupt us again.
+Leberecht, play out my ace of hearts."
+
+The latter, with his eyes cast down, and with a perfectly indifferent
+manner, played the card indicated, and Trude left the room quietly and
+unobserved.
+
+"Every thing is arranged, my child," said Trude, as she re-entered
+Marie's room. "They are playing cards, which always lasts two hours,
+then Herr Ebenstreit goes away, and the family will go to bed. You have
+eighteen hours, before you will be discovered. Hark! it strikes seven,
+and it is already quite dark. When the post-horn sounds, then it is
+time."
+
+"Oh, Trude! my dear mother, my heart almost ceases to beat, with
+anxiety, and I quake with fear," sighed Marie. "I am conscious that I
+have commenced a fearful undertaking!"
+
+"They have driven you to it--it is not your fault," said Trude,
+consolingly. "Every human being is free to work out his own good or bad
+fortune, and, as our dear Old Fritz says, 'to be happy in the future
+world in his own way.' They have sold you for money, and you only prove
+to them that you are no slave."
+
+"And I prove also that I am a disobedient daughter," added Marie,
+trembling. "At this hour, it weighs like a heavy burden upon my heart,
+and the words of Holy Writ burn into my very soul--'Honor thy father and
+thy mother, that it may be well with thee.'"
+
+"You have honored them all your life," said Trude, solemnly; "I can
+witness it before God and man. You have worked for them without thanks
+or love, receiving only contempt. It is also written, 'Thou shalt leave
+father and mother, and cleave unto thy husband.' You still follow the
+commands of God, and may it bring you happiness and blessing. My
+prayers and thoughts go with you, my child! a mother could not love her
+offspring more tenderly than I do you."
+
+"No mother could more tenderly and faithfully care for her than you
+have for me, Trude," cried Marie, pressing her lovingly to her breast.
+"Through you alone is my rescue possible, for you give us the money to
+undertake the long journey."
+
+"Not I," she laughed; "it is Herr Ebenstreit, and that makes it the
+more amusing; the wicked always set the traps into which they fall
+themselves." Suddenly the loud, quivering tones of the post-horn were
+heard, "Es ritten drei Reiter zum Thore hinaus."
+
+"He has come!" cried Marie, and her face beamed with delight. "He calls
+me! I am coming!--Farewell, dear, peaceful room, where I have so toiled,
+wept, and suffered! I shall never see thee again! My beloved calls me,
+and I go to follow him even unto death! Pardon me, O God! Thou seest
+that I cannot do otherwise! They would force me to perjury, and I dare
+not break my oath! I cannot forsake him whom I love!--When they curse
+me, Trude, kneel, and implor God to bless me, who is the Father of love!
+My conscience does not reproach me. I have worked for them when they
+needed it; now their adopted son, to whom they have sold their name,
+allows them a yearly rent, and I can work for myself."
+
+"Hark! there is the post-horn again, you must go," murmured Trude,
+struggling to force back her tears.
+
+"Bless me, mother," implored Marie, kneeling.
+
+"God's blessing go with you," she said, laying her hands upon her head,
+"and may it render of no avail the curses of men, but permit you to walk
+in love and happiness!"
+
+"Amen, amen!" sighed Marie, "now farewell, dear mother, farewell!"
+
+Marie rose, and kissing Trude again, flitted down the stairs, and out of
+the house, Trude following, holding her breath and listening in fearful
+excitement.
+
+Again resounded the post-horn.
+
+"They are gone," murmured Trude, bowing her head and praying long and
+fervently.
+
+The general was particularly fortunate this evening, which caused him to
+be unusually cheerful and satisfied. After every rubber he gathered up
+the thalers, until he had amassed a most satisfactory pile. As the clock
+struck ten, Frau von Werrig declared that they must finish and go to
+bed.
+
+The general yielded, with a sigh, to her decision, for he knew, by
+long years of experience, that it would be in vain to defy her will.
+He shoved his winnings into a leather bag, which he always carried
+with him, and gave Leberecht the order to roll away his chair, when
+the servant, with a solemn bow, stepped closely to him, and begged the
+general to listen to him a moment.
+
+"Well, what have you to say?" he asked.
+
+"I have only one request--that you will permit me to prove that I am a
+faithful servant, who looks out for the good of his employers. You
+have given Trude five hundred thalers that she might watch over your
+daughter. I can show you how well she deserved it, and how differently
+your humble servant would have done.--Have the goodness, Frau von
+Werrig, to call Trude to bid Fraulein come down, for you have something
+important to communicate to her."
+
+His mistress proudly regarded him and seemed to try to read his meaning
+in his smiling, humble face. "And if my daughter comes, what have you to
+say?"
+
+"If she comes, then I am a miserable fool and scoundrel, but I beg you
+to call Trude."
+
+It was a long time before the old woman appeared, confused and sleepy,
+asking--"what they wanted at such a late hour?"
+
+"Go and tell my daughter that I wish to see her at once."
+
+Trude trembled, but composed herself, saying, "There is time enough
+to-morrow. Fraulein has been asleep a long time."
+
+"She lies," sneered Leberecht, taking the precaution to protect himself
+behind the general's arm-chair. "She knows that she is not in bed."
+
+"Oh, you sneak, you rascal," cried Trude, shaking her fist at him, "how
+dare you say that I tell a lie? How can such a miserable creature as
+you impute to others what you do yourself every time that you open your
+mouth?"
+
+"Frau von Werrig, she is only quarrelling, in order to gain time--every
+moment is precious. I beg you to go up-stairs, and see for yourself, if
+your daughter is there."
+
+"Fraulein has locked the door so as not to be disturbed."
+
+"Ah," said Leberecht, "Trude has locked it, and has the key in her
+pocket."
+
+"Give up the key," shrieked the general, who in vain tried to rise, "or
+I will call the police, and send you to prison."
+
+"Do it, but I will not give it to you."
+
+"Do you not see she has it?" cried Leberecht.
+
+"Oh, you wretch, I will pay you--I will scratch your eyes out, you
+miserable creature!"
+
+"Trude, be quiet," commanded Ebenstreit; "the general orders to give up
+the key--do it!"
+
+"Yes, do it at once," shrieked Frau von Werrig, "or I will dismiss you
+from my service."
+
+"That you will not have to do, as I shall go myself. I will not give up
+the key."
+
+"The door is old, and with a good push one could open it," said
+Leberecht.
+
+"Come, my son, let us see," said the mother.
+
+They hastened up to the room, while the general scolded, furiously that
+he must sit still. Leberecht and Trude cast furious, menacing glances at
+each other.
+
+Suddenly a loud crash was heard.
+
+"They have broken open the door!" cried the general.
+
+"I said that it was old and frail--what do you say now, beautiful
+Trude?"
+
+The old woman wiped with her hand the drops of perspiration from her
+forehead, caused by her anguish. "You are a bad fellow, and God will
+punish you for your treason, that you have tormented a noble, unhappy
+girl. I saw that you were an eavesdropper, and you know all."
+
+"She is gone!" shrieked the mother, rushing into the room.
+
+"The room is empty," cried Ebenstreit. "Marie is not there. Tell us,
+Leberecht, what you know about it."
+
+"I will, if we can agree about the pay--the old woman bothers me, and
+beg the young gentleman to go into the next room with me."
+
+"O Almighty God, have compassion upon my poor little Marie," murmured
+Trude, kneeling, and covering her face.
+
+Ebenstreit in the mean time withdrew to the other room, followed by the
+servant.
+
+"Speak!" commanded his master, "and tell me what you have to say."
+
+Leberecht shrugged his shoulders. "We are two men who have urgent
+business with each other. I am not at present a servant and you the
+master. I am a man who has an important secret to sell, and you are the
+man who would buy it."
+
+"What strange, unheard-of language is this?" said Ebenstreit,
+astonished.
+
+"The language of a man who cannot only deprive the rich banker
+Ebenstreit of a lovely wife, but of his title also. You said yourself,
+sir, this morning, that it was only valid if you succeeded in marrying
+the daughter of General von Leuthen. No none knows where you can find
+your bride but me."
+
+"And Trude," said Ebenstreit, quickly.
+
+"You know she will not betray Fraulein, and you have not even tried to
+make her."
+
+"You are mistaken; Trude is as easily bought as any one."
+
+"You say that because she has taken five hundred thalers from you. She
+has not helped you, and it is useless to ask for your money, as she has
+not got it."
+
+"How so? Has she given it away?"
+
+"You provided the money for your bride to run away and marry elsewhere,
+as Trude gave it to them."
+
+Ebenstreit stamped his foot with rage, striding backward and forward in
+furious excitement, while Leberecht watched him, sardonically smiling.
+"Let us come to an end with this business," said Ebenstreit, stopping
+before his servant. "You know where Fraulein can be found, and you wish
+to sell the secret--tell me your price."
+
+"Three thousand thalers, and a clerkship in your bank, which you intend
+to continue under another name."
+
+"You are beside yourself. I am not so foolish as to grant such senseless
+demands."
+
+"Every hour that you wait I demand a thousand thalers more, and if you
+stop to reflect long your betrothed and your title both are lost."
+
+"You are a miserable scamp!" cried Ebenstreit, enraged; "I will
+inform the police. There are means enough to force you to give the
+information."
+
+"I do not believe it. Trude will not tell you, and I should like to know
+what can force me if I will not. The king has done away with torture,
+and I have informed you how to make me speak. Three thousand thalers and
+a clerkship in your office. Take care! it is almost eleven o'clock--at
+midnight I shall demand four thousand."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. UNDER THE STARRY HEAVENS.
+
+
+It was a beautiful, clear, moonlight night. The world reposed in
+silence. Mankind with their cares and sorrows, their joys and hopes, had
+gone to rest. Over town and village, over highway and forest had flitted
+the sweet, consoling angel--Sleep. The sad were soothed, the heavy-laden
+were lightened of their burdens, to the despairing were brought golden
+dreams, to the weary rest. Sighing and sorrowful, he turned from those
+with a sad face whose conscience banished repose, and, ah! their number
+was legion. To the wakeful and blissful he smilingly glanced, breathing
+a prayer and a blessing; but these were few and far between--for
+happiness is a rare guest, and tarries with mortals but fitfully. As
+he glided past the joyful couple who, with watchful love and grateful
+hearts, sat in the carriage rolling over the silent, deserted highway,
+two tears fell from his eyes, and his starry wings were wider outspread
+to rush more quickly past.
+
+"Look, my dear Marie, two stars just fell from heaven. They are a
+greeting to you, loved one, and they would say they guide us on our
+way."
+
+"Oh, Philip, it is a sign of ill-luck! Falling stars betoken
+misfortune!"
+
+She clung closer to his side, and laid her head upon his shoulder.
+He pressed her more lovingly to his heart. "Do not fear, dear Marie;
+separation only could cause us unhappiness--we have long borne it, and
+now it is forever past. You have given yourself to me for my own, and I
+am yours, heart and soul; we speed on through the night to the morning
+of the bright, sunny future, never more to be parted."
+
+"Never!" she fervently murmured. "Oh, may God hear our prayer. Never,
+never to part! Yet, while the word falls from my lips, a shudder creeps
+through my soul."
+
+"Wherefore this despair, dearest? Reflect, no one will be apprised of
+our flight till early morning, and then they will not know whither we
+have fled. Meanwhile we rush on to Hamburg, where a packet-ship sails
+every Wednesday for England; arriving there, we will first go to
+Suffolk, to my old friend the vicar of Tunningham. I was his guest many
+weeks last year, and he often related to me the privilege which had
+been conferred on the parish church for a long time to perform valid
+marriages for those to whose union there were obstacles interposed
+elsewhere. He will bless the union of our love, and will accord me the
+lawful right to call you my own before God and man. We will not return
+at once to Germany. I have many connections and literary friends in
+London, who will assist me to worthy occupation. Besides, I closed an
+agreement some weeks since with the publisher Nicolai in Berlin for a
+new work. I will write it in London; it will be none the less favored
+coming from a distance."
+
+"My flowers and paintings will also be as well received in as in
+Berlin," added Marie, smilingly.
+
+"No, Marie, you shall not work. I shall have the precious care of
+providing for you, which will be my pride and happiness. Oh, my beloved,
+what a crowning bliss to possess a sweet, dear wife, who is only rich
+in imperishable treasures, and poor in external riches! What delight
+to toil for her, and feel that there lives in my intellect the power to
+grant her every wish, and to compensate her in the slightest degree the
+boundless wealth of her affection! To a loving mind there is no prouder,
+happier feeling than to be the only source of support to the wife of his
+love--to know that she looks to him for the fulfilment of her slightest
+wish in life. I thank my Maker that you are poor, Marie, and that I am
+permitted to toil for you. How else could I reward you for all you have
+sacrificed for me?"
+
+"You cannot suppose, dear Philip, that the riches of my obtrusive lover
+would have been any attraction to me. Money could never compensate for
+the loss of your love. You are my life, and from you alone can I receive
+happiness or unhappiness. At your side I am rich and joyous, though we
+may outwardly need; without you I should be poor with superfluity. I
+am proud that we in spirit have freed ourselves from those fictitious
+externals with which the foolish burden themselves. Oh, my beloved
+Philip, my whole soul is exultant that we are never more to part--no,
+not even in eternity, for I believe that love is an undying sentiment,
+and the soul can never be darkened by death which is beaming with
+affection."
+
+"You are right, Marie, love is the immortality of the soul; through it
+man is regenerated and soars to the regions of eternal light. When I
+recall how desolate and gloomy was my life, how joyless the days dragged
+on before I loved you, I almost menaced Heaven that it created me to
+wander alone through this desert. The brightest sun's rays now gild
+my future, and it seems as if we were alone in paradise, and that the
+creation entire glorified my happiness, and all the voices of Nature
+shouted a greeting to you, dearest. Oh, Marie, if I lived a thousand
+years, my heart would retain its youthful love and adoration for you,
+who have saved me from myself, have freed my soul from the constraining
+fetters of a sad, joyless existence. Repose your head upon my heart, and
+may it rest there many happy years, and receive in this hour my oath to
+love, esteem, and honor you as my most precious treasure! You shall be
+wife, child, sister, and friend. My soul shall be frank and open to
+you; for you I will strive and toil, and will cherish and foster the
+happiness received from you as my most treasured gift. Give me your
+hand, Marie."
+
+She laid it within his own strong, manly hand, gently pressing it.
+
+The large full moon, high above them, lighted up these noble faces,
+making the eyes, which were bent upon each other, more radiant. Swiftly
+the carriage rolled on, the night-breeze fanning their cheeks and waving
+back their raven curls.
+
+Moritz raised their clasped hands, and gazed at the starry heaven.
+
+"We lift them up unto Thee, O God. Thou hast heard my oath, O Eternal
+Spirit, who dwellest among the stars; receive it, and bless the woman I
+love!"
+
+"Receive also my oath, O my Maker. Regard the man to whom I have sworn
+eternal fidelity, bless him, and bless me. Let us live in love and die
+in constancy."
+
+Moritz responded, "Amen, my beloved, amen!"
+
+They embraced each other fervently. Onward rolled the carriage through
+the tranquil, blissful night. Oh why cannot these steeds borrow wings
+from the night-wind? Why cannot the soaring spirit bear aloft its
+earthly tenement? With divine joy and heavenly confidence you gaze at
+the stars. You smilingly interchange thoughts of the blissful future,
+whilst dire misfortune approaches, and will soon seize you in its
+poisonous grasp! Do you not hear it? Does not the echo of swift-prancing
+steeds ring in your ears? Do you not hear the shrieking and calling
+after you?
+
+They listen only to the voice of tenderness speaking in their hearts,
+and would that the solemn quiet of this dialogue might not be broken by
+a loud word from their lips.
+
+The post-horn sounded! They halted at a lonely house near the highway.
+It is the station. Change horses! There is not a light to be seen.
+Three times the postilion blew a pealing blast ere they could awake the
+inmates. The window was at last opened, and a sleepy, complaining voice
+questioned the number of horses and the distance of the next post.
+
+Slowly they were brought forward, and still more slowly were they
+attached to the carriage, and all arranged. What matters it? The night
+is lovely, and like a dream it seems to remain under the starry heavens,
+spread out like a canopy above them.
+
+Does not your heart tell you that sorrow strides on like the storm? Do
+you not hear the voices still shrieking after you?
+
+The postilion mounted his horse, and again the trumpet pealed forth
+its merry air, and was answered with a shout of triumph from the swift
+pursuers.
+
+Marie raised her head from Philip's shoulder. "What was it? Did you not
+hear it?"
+
+"What, my beloved, what should I hear? Do the stars salute you? Do the
+angels greet their sister upon earth?"
+
+"Hark! there it is again! Do you not hear it? Listen! does it not seem
+as if one called 'Halt! halt!'"
+
+"Yes, truly, I hear it now also! What can happen, love? Why trouble
+ourselves about the outer world and the existence of other beings?"
+
+"I know not, but I am so anxious, my heart almost ceases to beat, with
+terror!"
+
+"Halt! halt!" the wind carries forward the shriek, and above their heads
+it sounds like the screeching of ravens.
+
+"Strange! For whom are they calling?" Moritz looked back along the
+highway. White and clear it lay in the moonlight, but, far in the
+distance was a black mass, taking form and shape at every moment!
+
+Horsemen! horsemen! in full speed they come!
+
+"Postilion! drive on! quick! Let the horses gallop! There is a forest
+near--drive us to that, that we may hide ourselves in the thicket!
+Onward, postilion! we are not thieves or murderers. A hundred thalers
+are yours, if you save us!"
+
+The postilion beat his horses! In full chase they followed--more and
+more distinctly were heard the curses and yells.
+
+"Oh, God in heaven, have mercy upon us in our need!"
+
+"Faster, postilion!--in mercy, faster!"
+
+"Halt! halt!--in the name of the king, halt!"
+
+This startled the postilion, and he turned to listen, and again a
+furious voice yelled, "In the name of the king, halt!"
+
+The postilion drew up. "Forgive me, sir, but I must respect the name of
+the king."
+
+Forward galloped the horsemen.
+
+"Philip," whispered Marie, "why do we live--why do we not die?"
+
+He folded her in his arms, and passionately kissed her, perhaps for the
+last time. "Marie, be mindful of our oath--constant unto death!"
+
+"Constant unto death!" she repeated.
+
+"Be firm and defy all the storms of life!"
+
+Marie repeated it, with heightened courage.
+
+The horsemen surrounded the carriage, the riders upon panting steeds!
+Two officers in uniform sprang to the side, laying their hands upon
+Moritz's shoulder. "Conrector Philip Moritz, we arrest you in the
+name of the king! You are accused of eloping with a minor, and we are
+commanded to transport you to Spandau until further orders!" Upon the
+other side two other horsemen halted. The foremost was Herr Ebenstreit,
+who laid his hand upon Marie, and saw not or cared not that she
+shudderingly shrank away.
+
+"My dear Marie, I come as the ambassador of your parents, and am fully
+empowered to lead your back to your father's house."
+
+She answered not, but sat immovable and benumbed with terror, the tears
+rolling down her cheeks.
+
+"You arrest me in the name of the king," cried Moritz; "I bow to the law.
+I beg only to speak to that man," pointing to Ebenstreit, with contempt.
+"Sir, dismount, I have important business with you!"
+
+"We have nothing to say to each other," answered Ebenstreit, calmly.
+
+"But I!" cried Moritz, springing forward, furious as a lion, "I have
+something to say to you, you rascal, and I will treat you accordingly!"
+
+He savagely tore the whip from the postilion's hand, and struck
+Ebenstreit in the face. "Now," cried he, triumphantly, "I have forced
+you to give me satisfaction!"
+
+The police swung themselves from their saddles, and Leberecht quickly
+dismounted. They clinched Moritz by the feet and hands. It was a
+desperate struggle, and Marie gazed at them with folded hands, praying
+without words. They seized him and held him fast with manacles. A
+shriek, and Marie sank fainting. Moritz's head sank upon his breast,
+almost in the agony of death.
+
+"Take him to the next station, my friends," commanded Ebenstreit, "the
+carriage is already ordered to remove him to Spandau." He dismounted,
+and now took the place by Marie, who still lay in a dead faint.
+"Postilion, mount and turn your carriage, I retain you until the next
+station. If you drive quickly, there is a louis d'or for you."
+
+"I will drive as if the devil were after me, sir!" shouted the
+postilion, and turned to gallop off, when Ebenstreit ordered him to
+halt, and Leberecht to get up on the box. Then turning to the officers,
+"Gentlemen," said he, proudly, "you are witnesses to the ill-treatment
+and insults of this woman-stealer. You will certify that the blood
+flowed down my face."
+
+"I will myself make it known before all men," cried Moritz, with a
+contemptuous laugh. "I have insulted you and branded you."
+
+"We will give our evidence," respectfully replied the officers. "As soon
+as we have delivered our prisoner at Spandau, we will announce ourselves
+to you."
+
+"Then you will receive from me the promised reward of a hundred thalers.
+If you hush up the entire adventure, so that it is not noised about,
+after three months, still another hundred."
+
+"We will be silent, Herr Ebenstreit."
+
+"I believe you; a hundred thalers is a pretty sum. Forward, Leberecht,
+make the postilion push on, that we may arrive in Berlin before
+daybreak, and no one know of this abominable affair."
+
+The postilion laughed with delight, at the thought of the louis d'or.
+Upon the box sat Leberecht, a smile of malicious triumph upon his
+face. "This has been a lucky night," said he; "we have all done a good
+business, but I am the most fortunate, with my three thousand thalers
+and a fine place. I wish he had waited an hour later, and then I should
+have had another thousand!"
+
+Ebenstreit sat with triumphant smile also, by his betrothed. "Money is
+the king of the world--with it one can accomplish all things," said he
+to himself; "if I had been a poor fellow, the general would not have
+chosen me, nor the king have given me a title, nor could I have won back
+my beautiful bride. Money gives position, and I hope will give me the
+power to revenge myself for the pain in my face." He turned menacingly
+toward Moritz, who saw it not.
+
+With bowed head, speechless, as if numb with the horror of his
+misfortune, he rode with fettered hands between the two officers,
+incapable of fleeing, as they had even bound a cord around his arms,
+each end held fast by one of the riders.
+
+The stars and the moon shone down upon him as brightly beautiful as
+an hour previous. Oh, Marie, you were right, falling stars betoken
+misfortune! Your star has fallen!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. THE SACRIFICE.
+
+
+Since that painful night, four weeks had passed, four long ones to poor
+old Trude. To her beloved child they had fled in happy unconsciousness.
+In the delirium of fever, her thoughts wandered to her lover, always
+dwelling upon her hopes and happiness. In the intervals of reason she
+asked for him with fearful excitement and anxiety, then again her mind
+was clouded, and the cry of anguish was changed into a smile.
+
+Then came the days of convalescence and the return to consciousness, and
+with it the mourning over crushed hopes. Slowly had Trude, the faithful
+nurse, who watched by her bedside day and night, answered her excited
+questions, and to her little by little the circumstances of the
+elopement--how Leberecht had played the eavesdropper and sold Marie's
+secret for gold; how he had previously arranged to pursue them,
+informing the police, ordering the horses, and sending forward a courier
+to provide fresh relays at every station.
+
+Trude depicted the anger of her father and the threats of her mother to
+send her to prison. But before she could execute her purpose, Ebenstreit
+had brought home the unconscious child, and she herself had lifted her
+from the carriage and borne her, with the aid of her mistress, to her
+own little attic room.
+
+Marie listened to these relations with a gloomy calmness and a defiant
+sorrow. Illness had wrought a peculiar change in her mind, and hardened
+the gentle, tender feelings of the young girl. Grief had steeled her
+soul, benumbed her heart, and she had risen from her couch as one born
+anew to grief and torture. Her present situation and lost happiness had
+changed the young, loving, tenderly-sensitive maiden to the
+courageous, energetic, and defiant woman, who recognized a future of
+self-renunciation, combat, and resignation.
+
+Trude observed these changes with disquietude and care. She wished Marie
+would only once complain, or burst into tears. After the first storm of
+despair had passed, the tears refused to flow, and her eyes were bright
+and undimmed. Only once had profound emotion been awakened, as Trude
+asked her if she had forgotten her unhappy lover, and cared no more to
+learn his fate. It had the desired effect.
+
+A deathly paleness overspread her delicate, transparent cheek. "I know
+how he is," she said, turning away her face, "I realize his sufferings
+by my own. We are miserable, lost--and no hope but in death. Ere this
+comes, there is a desert to traverse in heat, and dust, and storm, and
+frost, alone, without consolation or support. Hush, Trude! do not seek
+to revive miserable hopes. I know my fate, and I will endure it. Tell me
+what you know about him? Where is he? Have they accused him? Speak! do
+not fear to tell me every thing!" But fearing herself, she threw her
+handkerchief quickly over her face, and sat with it covered whilst Trude
+spoke.
+
+"I know but little of poor, dear Moritz. He has never returned to
+his lodgings. A day or two after that night, two officers sealed his
+effects, and took away his clothes. His hostess has not the least
+suspicion of the mysterious disappearance of her otherwise quiet,
+regular lodger. The secret of the elopement has been carefully guarded,
+as no one of the neighbors know it, and there is no gossip about you and
+Moritz. Those who think he is travelling are not surprised at his having
+left without taking leave, as they say he was accustomed to do so. But,"
+continued Trude, in a lower tone, "Herr Gedicke looked very sad and
+grave, as I asked for the Conrector Moritz. 'He has disappeared,' he
+sighed, 'and I know not if we shall ever see him again.' 'Oh, Jemima!' I
+screamed, 'you do not think that he has committed a self-injury!' 'No,'
+said the director, 'not he himself, he is too honorable a man. Others
+have ill-treated him and made him unhappy for life.' It was in vain to
+ask further; he knew not or he would not say any thing. I believe your
+family know where poor Moritz is, for your mother speaks of him as one
+in the penitentiary, and quite triumphantly she told me yesterday that
+the king, in his new book of laws, had expressly condemned the person
+who elopes with a minor to be sent to the house of correction for ten
+years, and then she laughed so cruelly, that I trembled to hear her."
+
+As Trude related this, she searchingly glanced at Marie to observe the
+effect of her words, hoping to see her weep or complain and that, at
+last, grief would melt the icy crust around her heart.
+
+But Marie sat motionless and without uttering a sound--not a sigh or a
+moan escaped her. After a long silence, when her grief was too deep for
+tears, she drew the handkerchief from her face, the pallor and rigidity
+of which startled Trude.
+
+She sprang forward, folding her in her arms. "Marie, child of my heart,
+do weep, do complain! I know that he loved you dearly, and deserves that
+you should mourn for him. Have you no more confidence, though, in your
+old Trude? Is she no longer worthy to share your grief?"
+
+Marie laid her languid head upon the bosom of her faithful nurse; a
+long-drawn, piercing cry of anguish was her response, she trembled
+violently, and the tears ran down her cheeks.
+
+Trude raised her eyes to heaven, murmuring, "I thank thee, O Lord! Her
+heart is not dead! It lives, for it suffers!"
+
+"It suffers," groaned Marie, "the anguish of death."
+
+This passionate outburst of feeling was of but short duration. Her tears
+were dried, and her quivering face assumed its usually calm expression.
+
+"Trude," said she, gently, continuing to repose upon her bosom, "I am
+so wretched that words cannot express it or tears soothe it. If I should
+give myself up to sorrow and mourning I should die, and that cannot be,
+for I must live to wait for him--to rescue him. How I know not yet;
+my thoughts and resolutions are so confused that they flicker like the
+ignes fatui. I will force my mind to be calm, and these wandering lights
+shall unite in one glowing flame to destroy the walls and obstructions
+which confine him. He is a prisoner; I feel it in my heart, and I must
+live to free him. This is my task, and I will accomplish it; therefore
+I would be composed, and strong in myself. Wonder not that I weep or
+complain no more, and do not refer to my misfortune. I should die if
+I did not suppress this anguish, and I would become strong and active.
+Seek not to enfeeble me, but aid me to harden myself; refrain from
+complaint, that I may be silent. I think only of him, and I ask nothing
+further than to yield my life to free him. Let us never speak of it
+again, for I feel that all the firmness which I had gained has been
+swept from me in this giving way, and that I must begin anew."
+
+From this hour she commenced to build, and rose upon her grief as on a
+column which projects toward heaven; leaned upon it, and received, as
+Brisaeus from the earth, the power of life and action. She had already
+so conquered herself as to be able to leave her own quiet room, and
+descend to that of her parents. There she would sit calmly for hours,
+listening attentively to the conversation, hoping to catch some word
+that might give her a clew.
+
+They avoided every exciting topic, and were milder and more thoughtful
+for her. Even her mother made no reproaches, and never alluded to
+the past, because she feared to delay her recovery, and remove the
+longed-for goal in hindering the marriage with Ebenstreit. The latter
+carefully avoided troubling her by his presence; when he heard Marie's
+step in the anteroom, who descended at a certain hour every day, he
+withdrew by the other entrance.
+
+"Who goes out every time I come in?" asked Marie, one day as she
+appeared in the sitting-room.
+
+The general coughed with embarrassment, and glanced anxiously at
+his wife, whose eyes rested upon her daughter with a cold, searching
+expression. Their eyes met, and were riveted upon each other. A cold,
+cruel smile played around the thin, bloodless lips of the mother as she
+recognized the defiance and firmness in her child, and felt that she had
+recovered.
+
+"It is your betrothed," she answered, "our dear Ebenstreit--a good,
+generous, and self-sacrificing son, for whom we thank God every day, who
+wishes to spare you the annoyance of seeing him."
+
+"He need not inconvenience himself on my account. Nothing excites or
+wounds my feelings now. It would be a pity for your heartless, thankless
+daughter to deprive you of the society of your dear son. Let him remain;
+it is not necessary for us to notice one another."
+
+Her parents regarded each other astonished, and, as she ceased, they
+still listened to the dying tones of her voice, which sounded so
+strangely to them. "She is much changed," mumbled the general to
+himself. "She does not seem the same person, she is so haughty and
+majestic. She might well inspire fear."
+
+The following day, as Marie entered the room, Ebenstreit was there.
+He approached her, extending both hands smiling, and greeting her with
+tender words, rejoicing at her recovery.
+
+She took no notice of his friendly demonstrations, but coldly and
+harshly regarded his smiling face, and particularly the broad, blood-red
+scar which ran from forehead to chin. Then suddenly her face lighted up,
+and an expression of savage triumph shot from her eyes. "How disfigured
+you look," she cried exultingly. "Where did you get that scar?"
+
+"You know well, Marie," he murmured, gloomily.
+
+"Yes," she cried, triumphantly. "I know it. He branded you, and you will
+wear this mark before God and man as long as you live."
+
+"You are very cruel to remind me of it, Marie," he softly whispered.
+
+She laughed aloud so wild and savagely, that even her mother was
+startled. "Cruel--I cruel!" she cried. "Ah, sir, it becomes you indeed
+to accuse me of it!"
+
+Trude entered at this instant, pale and excited.
+
+"What is the matter?"
+
+"There is some one here who wishes to speak with you, Marie; he has
+something very important to tell you."
+
+"How dare you announce any one without my permission?" cried Frau von
+Werrig.
+
+"Silence, mother!--if I may be allowed, let us hear who it is.--Speak,
+dear Trude, who is it?"
+
+"It is the Director Gedicke from the Gray Cloister," said Trude, with
+quivering voice.
+
+Marie was startled--a glowing red overspread her cheeks, and she was
+obliged to lean against a chair for support.
+
+"I forbid you to receive him," said her mother.
+
+She suddenly ceased, and stared at the door, which opened at that
+moment, the tall, dignified form of a venerable old man appearing.
+
+"Pardon me, sir," said he, with a cold, reserved manner, "if I enter
+before I receive permission. The command of the king, to which I believe
+we all yield without resistance, empowers me to do so."
+
+"How, sir, you come by the king's order?" asked the general, who rose
+with difficulty. "Has his majesty given you a message for General von
+Leuthen?"
+
+"No, general, I come with a communication from his majesty to Fraulein
+von Leuthen, the betrothed of Herr Ebenstreit, and the order runs to
+deliver the same personally and without witnesses."
+
+"Professor," cried the mother, shrugging her shoulders, "you mistake
+us for very innocent people, if you suppose we believe this silly
+invention, and that you can gain a secret conversation by a ruse with
+our daughter. You are the director of the gymnasium, and naturally the
+friend of Conrector Moritz. In his name you will speak, and bring a
+secret message. Very sly, indeed, very sly, but it will not succeed."
+
+For response, the director drew two large folded documents from his
+pocket, approaching the general. "Do you recognize this seal?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," solemnly answered the general; "it is the royal seal from the
+king's private cabinet."
+
+"Read the address upon this, and the unopened letter."
+
+"Truly, the latter is directed to my daughter, and the other to
+Professor Gedicke."
+
+Herr Gedicke opened the letter, asking the general if he could recognize
+the king's handwriting.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "I know it well."
+
+"Have the goodness to read the lines upon the margin," mid the
+professor, unfolding the letter, so that he could only read those
+referred to.
+
+The general read: "Professor Gedicke shall go himself to Fraulein von
+Leuthen, and bring her to reason, reading the document to her without
+witnesses. I wish this affair to come to an end. Teach Mamselle mores!
+mores! mores! FREDERICK."
+
+"You have heard the royal command, ladies and gentlemen; will you
+respect it?" said the professor, turning around with an air of proud
+satisfaction.
+
+"My dear son-in-law," said the general, solemnly, "it is a royal
+command; give me your arm, as you know I am feeble; and you, my wife,
+take my other arm, and we will go into the next room. Hush! not a
+word--we have only to obey, and not reason."
+
+He seized his wife's hand hastily and firmly, that she should not slip
+away, and winked to Ebenstreit, upon whose support he crossed the room,
+drawing his wife with him, and pushing open the door of the next with
+his foot.
+
+Marie had stood during the whole transaction pale and rigid in the
+centre of the room, looking haughty and defiant as long as her parents
+and Herr Ebenstreit were present. Now, as the door closed, life
+and action were visible in this marble form; she rushed to the old
+gentleman, scarce respiring, and looking up at his dignified, sad face,
+asked: "Is he living? Tell me only this, or is he ill?"
+
+"Yes, he lives, he does not suffer from bodily ills, but the sickness of
+the soul."
+
+"And do not I also?" asked she, with quivering voice. "Oh! I know what
+he suffers, as we are wretched from the same cause. But tell me, have
+you seen him?"
+
+"Yes, Fraulein, I have."
+
+"Where is he? Where did you see him?"
+
+"In prison!"
+
+Marie grew paler, and retreated, shuddering. The director continued: "In
+a dark, damp prison at Spandau. The poor fellow has been there for two
+months without air, light, or occupation, and his only society is his
+own revengeful thoughts and angry love-complaints."
+
+Marie gave one hollow moan, covering her corpse-like face with her
+hands.
+
+"In this abode of torture, in this dwelling of the damned, he must
+remain ten long years, if death does not release him?"
+
+"What did you say?" she groaned. "Ten long years? Have they condemned
+him?"
+
+"Yes, he was guilty of a great crime--eloping with a minor--who, with
+the king's consent, and that of her parents, was betrothed to another.
+Read the sentence of the court, which was forwarded to me as the head
+of the college where Moritz was employed. See, here is the king's
+signature, which affirms the sentence, rendering it legal, and here upon
+the margin are the lines your father read."
+
+Trembling, Marie perused the contents. "Ten years in the house of
+correction!" she murmured. "On my account condemned to a living death!
+No, no, it is impossible! It cannot be! Ten years of the best part of
+life! He condemned as a criminal! I will go to the king. I will throw
+myself at his feet, imploring for mercy. I am the guilty one--I alone!
+They should judge me, and send me to the penitentiary! I will go to the
+king! He must and will hear me!"
+
+"He will not," sighed the director. "Listen to me, poor child! As I
+heard the sentence, I felt it my duty to summon all my powers to rescue
+Moritz, for I love him as a son, and had set my hopes upon him."
+
+"I thank you for this kind word," said Marie, seizing the hand of the
+old man, and pressing it to her lips.
+
+"I went immediately to Minister von Herzberg, and, upon his advice,
+as he explained to me the king might lighten his punishment, I betook
+myself to Frederick's winter-quarters at Breslau."
+
+"You noble, generous man, I shall love you for it as long as I live. Did
+you speak with the king?"
+
+"Yes, and every thing that my heart or mind could inspire, to excuse and
+justify my unhappy friend, I have said--but all in vain. The king was
+much embittered, because he had had the grace to grant him an audience,
+and explain the impossibility of the fulfilment of his petition. I did
+not cease begging and imploring, until I softened the generous heart of
+the king."
+
+"Has he pardoned Moritz?" Marie asked, with brightening hopes.
+
+"Under certain conditions he will allow that he should escape secretly
+from prison. They are formally written, and if Moritz consents and binds
+himself by oath, he will not only be freed, but provided with means to
+go to England, and receive immediately an appointment as translator to
+the Prussian embassy at London."
+
+"What are the conditions, sir?"
+
+"They are, first, that Moritz shall by oath renounce every wish and
+thought of uniting himself with Fraulein von Leuthen; secondly, that
+before he leaves the prison, he shall write to the young lady, in which
+he shall solemnly release her, and enjoin it upon her as a duty to
+accept the hand of the man to whom her parents have betrothed her. These
+were the conditions, and the king commanded me to go to Spandau, and
+with sensible representations, to confer with Moritz, and persuade him
+to accept them, and assure himself of freedom, and an honorable future,
+free from care."
+
+"You saw Moritz?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did you communicate the conditions?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And he?"
+
+"He refused, with rage and indignation!"
+
+"He refused?" cried Marie, joyfully. "Oh, my dear Philip, I thank you.
+You love me truly and faithfully. Your glorious example shall inspire me
+to be as firm as you."
+
+"Unhappy child, you know not what you are saying!" cried the director,
+sadly. "If you really love him, you could not follow his example. Read
+what the king has written."
+
+She took, in breathless silence, the document, and broke the seal,
+unfolding the paper, but her hand shook it so violently, that she could
+not distinguish the words.
+
+She returned it to the director. "Read it, I cannot," she said, and
+sank kneeling, looking up to the old man with unspeakable anguish, and
+listening to every word that fell from his lips. It ran thus:
+
+"His majesty announces to Mademoiselle Marie von Leuthen that he is
+exceedingly indignant at her improper and undutiful conduct, which does
+not at all become a maiden loving of honor, and particularly a noble
+one. His majesty ennobled her father for a brave deed, and he is angry
+that the daughter should bring shame upon the title, in giving way,
+not only to a passion which is beneath her, but is so little mindful of
+morality as to flee from the paternal house, at night, in an improper
+manner, with a man whose wife, according to the command of the king
+and the will of her father, she could never be. If his majesty did not
+respect the former service of her father, and the new title, he would
+send the daughter to the house of correction, and punish her according
+to the law. But he will leave her to the reproaches of conscience, and
+let the weight of the law fall upon her partner in guilt, Philip Moritz.
+He is rightly sentenced to ten years in the house of correction, and he
+will not be released one year or one day from the same, as he is guilty
+of a great crime, and his sentence is just."
+
+"Just!" shrieked Marie, in anguish--"ten years just?"
+
+The director continued to read: "His majesty will propose a last
+opportunity to the obstinate and inconsiderate young lady to reinstate
+her own honor, and release at the same time Conrector Moritz. His
+majesty has personal knowledge of the latter, and respects his scholarly
+attainments and capability and would bring an end to this affair for the
+general good. If mademoiselle, as becomes an honorable young woman,
+and an obedient daughter, follows the wishes of her father, and without
+delay marries Herr Ebenstreit, and leads a respectable life with him,
+the same hour of the ceremony Conrector Moritz shall be released, and a
+fit position be created for him. This is the final decision of the king.
+If the daughter does not submit in perfect obedience, she will burden
+her conscience with a great crime, and thank herself for Moritz's
+unfortunate fate. His majesty will be immediately informed of her
+decision. If she listens to reason, to morality, and affection, she will
+submit to the proposition which Director Gedicke is commissioned to make
+known to her, and announce to her parents in his presence that she will
+obediently follow their commands, Conrector Moritz will be at once set
+at liberty; otherwise he will be sent to Brandenburg to the house of
+correction. This is the unalterable will of the king. Signed, in the
+name of the king, FREDERICK."
+
+"Now decide, my child," continued the director, after a solemn pause. "I
+know nothing to add to this royal writing. If it has not itself spoken
+to your heart, your reason and your honor, words are useless."
+
+"O God, it is cruel--it is terrible!" cried Marie. "Shall I break my
+oath of constancy, becoming faithless, and suffer him to curse me, for
+he will never pardon me, but despise me!"
+
+She sprang up like a tigress, with her eyes flashing. "Oh," cried she,
+"he may even believe that I have been enticed by riches, by a brilliant
+future! No--no! I cannot consent! May God have mercy on me if the king
+will not! I will not break my oath! No one but Moritz shall ever be my
+husband!"
+
+"Unhappy girl," cried the old man, sadly, "I will give you one last
+inducement. I know not whether you have any knowledge of Moritz's
+past life, so tried and painful, which has made him easily excited and
+eccentric. A danger menaces him worse than imprisonment or death. His
+unaccustomed life, and the solitude of his dark, damp prison, is
+causing a fearful excitement in him. He is habituated to intellectual
+occupation. When he is obliged to put on the prisoner's jacket in the
+house of correction and spin wool, it will not kill him--it will make
+him mad!"
+
+A piercing cry was Marie's answer. "That is not true--it is impossible.
+He crazy!--you only say that to compel me to do what you will. His
+bright mind could not be obscured through the severest proofs."
+
+"You do not believe me? You think that an old man, with gray hair, and
+one foot in the grave, and who loves Moritz, could tell you a shameful
+untruth! I swear to you by the heads of my children, by all that is
+holy, that Moritz already suffers from an excitement of the brain; and
+if he does not soon have liberty and mental occupation, it is almost
+certain that he will become insane."
+
+Almost convulsed with anguish, Marie seized the old man's hand with
+fierce passion. "He shall not be crazed," she shrieked. "He shall not
+suffer--he shall not be imprisoned and buried in the house of correction
+on my account. I will rescue him--I and my love! I am prepared to do
+what the king commands! I will--marry the man--which--my parents have
+chosen. But--tell me, will he then be free?"
+
+"To-day even--in three hours, my poor child!"
+
+"Free! And I shall have saved him! Tell me what I have to do. What is
+the king's will?"
+
+"First sign this document," said the director, as he drew a second
+paper. "It runs thus: 'I, Marie von Leuthen, that of my own free will
+and consent I will renounce every other engagement, and will marry Herr
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen, and be a faithful wife to him. I witness with my
+signature the same.'"
+
+"Give it to me quickly," she gasped. "I will sign it! He must be free!
+He shall not go mad!"
+
+She rapidly signed the paper. "Here is my sentence of death! But he will
+live! Take it!"
+
+"My child," cried the old man, deeply agitated, "God will be mindful of
+this sacrifice, and in the hour of death it will beam brightly upon you.
+You have by this act rescued a noble and excellent being, and when he
+wins fame from science and art he will owe to you alone the gratitude."
+
+"He shall not thank me!" she whispered. "He shall live and--if he can be
+happy!--this is all that I ask for! What is there further to be done?"
+
+"To announce to your parents in my presence that you will marry Herr
+Ebenstreit, and let the ceremony take place as soon as possible."
+
+"You swear that he shall then be released? You are an old man--reflect
+well; you swear to me that as soon as the marriage takes place, Philip
+Moritz will be free this very day and that he will be reinstated in an
+honorable, active occupation?"
+
+"I swear it to you upon my word of honor, by my hope of reward from
+above."
+
+"I believe you. Call my parents. But first--you are a father, and love
+your children well. I have never had a father who loved me, or ever laid
+his hand upon my head to bless me. You say that you love Moritz as a
+son! Oh, love me for a moment as your daughter, and bless me!"
+
+The old man folded her in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks.
+"God bless you, my daughter, as I bless you!"
+
+"I dare not tarry," she shuddered. "Let my parents enter."
+
+Slowly the venerable man traversed the room. Marie pressed her hands
+to her heart, looking to heaven. As the door opened, and the general
+entered, leaning upon Ebenstreit's arm, followed by his wife, Marie
+approached them with a haughty, determined manner, who regarded her with
+astonishment.
+
+"Father," she said, slowly and calmly, "I am ready to follow your
+wishes. Send for the clergyman: I consent to marry this man to-day, upon
+one condition."
+
+"Make it known, my dear Marie. Name your condition. I will joyfully
+fulfil it," said Ebenstreit.
+
+"I demand that we leave to-day for the East, to go to
+Egypt--Palestine--and remain away from this place for years. Are you
+agreed to it?"
+
+"To all that which my dear Marie wishes."
+
+"You can now weave the bridal-wreath in my hair, mother. I consent to
+the marriage."
+
+Three hours later the preparations were completed. Every thing had
+awaited this for three months.
+
+In the sitting-room, the decorators had quickly built a marriage-altar,
+and ornamented the walls with garlands of flowers, with festoons of
+gauze and silk, with flags and standards. The mother wore the costly
+silk which her rich son-in-law had honored her with for the occasion,
+and also adorned herself with the gold ornaments which were equally his
+gift. The father wore his gold-embroidered uniform, and imagined himself
+a stately figure, as the gout left him the use of his limbs this day.
+
+The invited witnesses began to assemble. Just then Ebenstreit von
+Leuthen drove up in the handsome travelling-carriage, which was a
+wedding-gift to his wife, and excited the admiration of the numerous
+street public.
+
+Old Trude, in her simple dark Sunday dress, had awaited the appearance
+of the bridegroom, and went to announce his arrival to the bride.
+
+Marie was in her little garret-room, so unlike in its present appearance
+to its former simplicity and comfort--as unlike as the occupant to the
+rosy, smiling young girl, who, yonder by the little brown table in the
+window-niche, taught her pupils, or with busy, skilful hands made the
+loveliest flowers, the income of which she gave to her parents, joyfully
+and although she never received thanks or recognition for the same. Now
+the same little table was covered with morocco cases, whose half-open
+covers revealed brilliant ornaments, laces, and sweet perfumes; superb
+silk dresses, cloaks, and shawls, ornamented with lace, lay about upon
+the bed and chairs.
+
+Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen had truly given his bride a princely dowry,
+and her mother had spread the things around room.
+
+Since Marie gave her consent to the marriage, she had followed out their
+wishes without opposition. She wore a white satin dress, covered with
+gold lace, her arms, neck, and ears, adorned with diamonds. The coiffeur
+had powdered and arranged her hair, without her ever casting a glance
+into the Psyche-mirror which her betrothed had had the gallantry to send
+to her room. She let him arrange the costly bridal veil; but when he
+would place the crown of myrtle, she waved him back.
+
+"Your work is finished," she said; "my mother will place that, I thank
+you."
+
+As Trude entered, Marie was standing in the centre of the room,
+regarding it with sinister, angry looks.
+
+"There you are, Trude," she said, "I am glad to see you a moment alone,
+for I have something to tell you. I have spoken with my future husband,
+demanding that you live with me as long as I live. Immediately after the
+ceremony you will go to my future home and remain there as house-keeper
+during my absence."
+
+Sadly the old woman shook her head. "No, that is too important a place
+for me. I will not lead a lazy life, and play the fine woman. I was made
+to work with my hands."
+
+"Do what you will in the house," answered Marie. "Only promise me that
+you will not leave me, and when I return that I shall find you there. If
+you leave me, I will never come back. Promise me!"
+
+"Then I will promise you, my poor child," sighed Trude.
+
+Marie laughed scornfully. "You call me poor--do you not see I am rich? I
+carry a fortune about my neck. Go, do not bewail me--I am rich!"
+
+"Marie, do not laugh so, it makes me feel badly," whispered the old
+woman. "I came to tell you the bridegroom and the clergyman are there."
+
+"The time has arrived for the marriage of the rich and happy bride. Go,
+Trude, beg my mother to come up and adorn me with the myrtle-wreath."
+
+"Dear Marie, can I not do it?" asked Trude, with quivering voice.
+
+"No, not you; touch not the fatal wreath! You have no part in that! Call
+my mother--it is time!"
+
+Trude turned sadly toward the door, Marie glancing after her, and
+calling her back with gentle tone.
+
+"Trude, my dear, faithful mother, kiss me once more." She threw her
+arms around Marie's neck and imprinted a loving kiss upon her forehead,
+weeping. "Now go, Trude--we must not give way; you know me; you well
+understand my feelings, and see into my heart."
+
+The old woman went out, drying her eyes. Marie uttered her last
+farewell. "With you the past goes forth, with you my youth and hope!
+When the door again opens, my future enters a strange, fearful life. Woe
+to those who have prepared it for me--woe to those who have so cruelly
+treated me! They will yet see what they have done. The good angel is
+extinct within me. Wicked demons will now assume their over me. I will
+have no pity--I will revenge myself; that I swear to Moritz!"
+
+Her mother rustled in, clothed in her splendid wedding-garments. "Did
+you send for me, dear Marie?" she whispered.
+
+"Yes, mother--I beg you to put on my myrtle-wreath."
+
+"How! have you no endearment for me?" she asked, smilingly. "Why do you
+say 'you' instead of 'thou?'"
+
+"It is better so, mother," she coldly answered. "Will you adorn me with
+the bridal-wreath?"
+
+"Willingly, my dear child; it is very beautiful and becoming."
+
+"Do you realize, mother, what you are doing? You place the wreath to
+consecrate me to an inconsolably unhappy life with the man that I hate
+and despise!"
+
+"My dear child, I know that you think so to-day; but you will soon
+change, and find that wealth is a supportable misfortune."
+
+"Mother, one day you will recall these words. Crown me for the hated
+bridal. The sacrifice is prepared!"
+
+
+
+
+BOOK IV. THE VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. OLD FRITZ.
+
+
+The war terminated, the hostile armies returned to their different
+German countries. Frederick the Great had gained his point, forcing
+Austria to renounce the possession of Bavaria. The Prince of
+Zweibruecken had been solemnly recognized by him as the rightful heir
+to the electorate, and the lawful ruler and possessor of Bavaria. The
+Emperor Joseph had submitted with profound regret and bitter animosity
+to the will of his mother, the reigning empress, and consented to the
+peace negotiations of Baron von Thugut. Having signed the document of
+the same, in his quality of co-regent, he angrily threw aside the pen,
+casting a furious glance at the hard, impenetrable face of Thugut,
+saying: "Tell her majesty that I have accomplished my last act as
+co-regent, and I now abdicate. From henceforth I will still lie her
+obedient son, but no submissive joint ruler, to only follow devotedly
+her imperial will. Therefore I resign, and never will trouble myself in
+future about the acts of the government." The emperor kept his word. He
+retired, piqued, into solitude, wounded in the depths of his soul, and
+afterward travelled, leaving the government entirely to the empress and
+her pious confessors.
+
+Bavaria was rescued! It owed its existence to the watchfulness,
+sagacity, and disinterested aid of Prussia's great king. The Elector
+Maximilian vowed in his delight that he, as well as his successors and
+heirs, would never forget that Bavaria must ascribe its continuance
+to Prussia alone, and therefore the gratitude of the princes of this
+electorate could not and never would be extinguished toward the royal
+house of Prussia. Frederick received these overflowing acknowledgments
+with the calmness of a philosopher and the smile of a skeptic. He
+understood mankind sufficiently to know what to expect from their oaths;
+to know that in the course of time there is nothing more oppressive and
+intolerable than gratitude, that it soon becomes a burden which they
+would gladly throw off their bent shoulders at any price, and become
+the enemy of him to whom they had sworn eternal thankfulness. Frederick
+regarded these oaths of Bavaria not as a security for the future, but as
+a payment on account of the past.
+
+"I did not go forth to render the Bavarian princes indebted to me," said
+he, to his only confidante, Count Herzberg, as he brought to him, at
+Sans-Souci, the renewed expression of thanks of the prince elector. "I
+would only protect Germany against Austria's grasp, and preserve the
+equilibrium of the German empire. Believe me, the house of Hapsburg is
+a dangerous enemy for the little German principalities, and if my
+successor does not bear it in mind, and guard himself against their
+flatteries and cat's-paws, Austria will fleece him as the cat the mouse
+who is enticed by the odor of the bacon. Prussia shall be neither a
+mouse in the German empire, nor serve as a roast for Austria. But she
+shall be a well-trained shepherd's dog for the dear, patient herd, and
+take care that none go astray and are lost."
+
+"Your majesty has drawn an unfortunate character for the future of our
+country," sighed Herzberg, thoughtfully, "and I must grant that it
+is sketched with severe but correct outlines so it follows that poor
+Germany has many combats and hardships in store."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked the king. "What characteristic did I name?"
+
+"Your majesty pointed out Austria as the cat watching for prey in
+Germany. Prussia, on the contrary, as the shepherd's dog, which should
+watch the native herd, and occasionally bite those who wander from the
+flock. The comparison is apt, and clearly exposes the natural hostility
+of the two nations. Nature has placed the cat and the dog in eternal
+enmity, and there is no compromise to be thought of, to say nothing of
+friendship. There may, now and then, be a truce; the cat may draw in
+her claws, and the dog may cease to howl and growl, but the combat will
+renew itself, and never end, but in the death of one party, and the
+victorious triumph of the other."
+
+"You are right," said the king, nodding slightly. "From this natural
+hostility will proceed many combats and storms for our land, and much
+blood will be shed on its account. Let us look to the future, and try to
+ward off the coming evil, in erecting high barriers against the cat-like
+springs of the enemy. I will think out a security for Germany. But
+first, mon cher ami, we have to care for our own country and people.
+The war has greatly injured my poor subjects. Industry is prostrated
+and prosperity disturbed. We must seek new sources of acquisition, and
+sustain those which are exhausted. For this, we must think of fresh
+taxes, and other sources of income."
+
+"Sire," said Herzberg, shrugging his shoulders, "the taxes are already
+so heavy that it will be difficult to increase them."
+
+"You are greatly mistaken," cried the king, with increased animation. "I
+will impose a tax upon those things which are now exempt, and establish
+a capable administration for the purpose. Bread, flour, meat, and beer,
+the sustenance of the poor, shall remain as they are, for I will not
+that they shall pay more. But tobacco, coffee, and tea, are superfluous
+things, which the prosperous and rich consume. Whoever will smoke, and
+drink tea or coffee, can and shall pay for being a gourmand!"
+
+"I beg pardon, but it is just these taxes which will create the greatest
+discontent," answered Herzberg. "Your majesty will remember that the
+duty on coffee was complained of and criticised by every one, and
+the poor people grumbled more than all. In spite of the resistance of
+government, coffee has become, more and more, a means of nourishment and
+refreshment for the lower class."
+
+"I will teach them to renounce it," cried the king, striking the table
+violently with his staff "I will not suffer so much money to go out of
+the country for this abominable beverage! My people shall re-learn to
+drink their beer, instead of this infamous stuff, as I had to do when
+a young man. What was good enough for the crown prince of Prussia, will
+to-day suffice for his subjects. I tell you, Herzberg, I will teach them
+to drink their beer, or pay dearly for this bad, foreign stuff. Then we
+will see which will conquer, Prussian beer or foreign coffee."
+
+"It is possible that the former will be victorious on account of
+their poverty and the high duties; but in any case the people will be
+discontented, and grumble against your majesty."
+
+"Do you suppose that I care for that?" asked the king, with a quick,
+fiery glance at the calm, earnest face of his confidant. "Do you think
+that I care for the applause of the people, or trouble myself about
+their complaints? I regard their shouting or their grumbling about as
+much as the humming or buzzing of a fly upon the wall. If it dares to
+light upon my nose, I brush it off; and if I can, I catch it. Beyond
+that, it is its nature to hum and buzz. Herzberg, you understand that if
+a ruler should listen to the praises or discontent of his subjects, he
+would soon be a lost man, and would not know his own mind. The people
+are changeable as the weather; to-morrow they crush under their feet
+what to-day they bore aloft, and praise one day what they stone the
+next. Do not talk to me about the people! I know this childish, foolish
+mass, and he is lost who counts upon their favor. It is all the same
+to me whether they like or hate me. I shall always do my duty to my
+subjects according to the best of my knowledge and ability, as it
+becomes an honorable and faithful officer. As the chief and most
+responsible servant of my kingdom, I should be mindful to increase
+her income and diminish her expenses--to lay taxes upon the rich, and
+lighten them for the poor. This is my task, and I will fulfil it so long
+as I live!"
+
+"Oh," cried Herzberg, with enthusiasm, "would that the entire nation
+might hear these words, and engrave them upon their hearts!"
+
+"Why that, mon cher?" asked Frederick, shrugging his shoulders. "I do
+not ask to be deified; my subjects are perfectly welcome to discuss
+my acts, so long as they pay me punctually, and order and quiet are
+respected and preserved."
+
+"All that is done," said Herzberg, joyfully. "The machine of state is so
+well arranged, that she has fulfilled her duty during the war, and will
+soon reestablish prosperity."
+
+"Particularly," cried the king, "if we rightly understand the art of
+agriculture. In the end every thing depends upon him who best cultivates
+his field. This is the highest art, for without it there would be no
+merchants, courtiers, kings, poets, or philosophers. The productions
+of the earth are the truest riches. He who improves his ground, brings
+waste land under the plough, drains the swamps, makes the most glorious
+conquests over barbarism."
+
+"And those are also conquerors, sire," said Herzberg, smiling, "who
+drain the mental swamps, and improve the waste mental ground. Such are
+those who increase the schools and instruct the people. I have caused
+the school authorities to report to me, according to your majesty's
+command. A happy progress has been noticed everywhere. Cultivation
+and education are advancing; and since our teachers have adopted the
+principles of Rousseau, a more humane spirit is perceptible throughout
+our schools."
+
+"What principle do we owe to Jean Jacques?" asked the king.
+
+"Sire, the principle that man is good by nature!"
+
+"Ah, mon cher, who says that knows but little of the abominable race to
+which we belong!" [Footnote: The king's words.--See "Prussia." vol. iv.,
+p. 221.]
+
+"Do you not believe in this doctrine?" asked Herzberg.
+
+The king raised his large blue eyes musingly to the busts placed upon
+the bookcases, and around the walls. They lingered long upon those of
+Homer, Plato, and D'Alembert; then turned to that of Voltaire, with its
+satyr-like face. "No, I do not believe it," he sadly responded. "Mankind
+is an ignoble race; still one must love them, for among the wicked are
+always some worthy ones, whose light beams so brightly clear, that they
+change night into day. During my life I have learned to know many base,
+miserable creatures, but I have become reconciled to them, as I have
+also found some who were virtuous and excellent--some who were noble
+and beautiful, as the grains of wheat among the chaff. You belong to the
+latter, my Herzberg; and as in heaven many unjust will be forgiven
+for one just person, so will I upon earth forgive on your account the
+Trencks, Schaffgotschs, Goernes, Voltaires, Wallraves, Glasows, Dahsens,
+and all the traitors, poisoners, and perfidious ones, as they may be
+called. Remain by my side and sustain me, to prevent many a wicked thing
+and bring to pass much that is good. I shall always be grateful to you
+in my heart for it; that you can depend upon even if my weather-beaten
+face looks ill-humored, and my voice is peevish. Remember that I am a
+fretful old man, who is daily wasting away, approaching that bourne from
+which no traveller has ever returned."
+
+"God grant that your majesty may be far removed from this bourne!"
+said Herzberg, with emotion. "And He may grant it on account of your
+subjects, who are so much in need of your care and government."
+
+"There is no one upon earth who could not be replaced," said the king,
+shaking his head. "When I am gone, they will shout to my successor. I
+trust my subjects will exchange a good ruler for their fretful old king.
+I have been very well satisfied with him during the campaign, and he has
+shown ability in the diplomatic mission to St. Petersburg. He has proved
+himself a soldier and a diplomat, and I hope he will become a great
+king. Herzberg, why do you not answer me, but cast down your eyes? What
+does your silence mean?"
+
+"Nothing at all--truly nothing! The crown prince has a noble, generous
+heart, a good understanding; only--"
+
+"Why hesitate, Herzberg? Go on--what is your 'only?'"
+
+"I would only say that the crown prince must beware and not be governed
+by others."
+
+"Oh, you mean that he will be ruled by mistresses and favorites?"
+
+"I do fear it, your majesty! You well know that the crown princes are
+generally the antipodes of those ascendant to the throne. If the ruler
+has only an enlightened mind, and is free from prejudices, so--"
+
+"Is his crown prince an obscurer," added quickly the king, "having the
+more prejudices, and is capable of being ruled by mystics and exorcists.
+Is not that your meaning?"
+
+Count Herzberg nodded. The king continued with animation: "Some one has
+told me of a new friend who returned from the war with the prince, and
+who belongs to the Rosicrucians and exhorters, and hopes to find many
+adherents here for such deceptions. Is it true?"
+
+"Yes, sire. It is Colonel Bischofswerder, a Rosicrucian and necromancer
+and of course of very pleasant address. He has indeed already gained
+much power over the impressible mind of Frederick William, and his
+importance is greatly on the increase."
+
+"What does the crown prince's mistress say to it? Is she not jealous?"
+
+"Of which one does your majesty speak?"
+
+The king started, and his eyes flashed. "What!" he cried with vehemence,
+"is there a question of several? Has the crown prince others besides
+Wilhelmine Enke, whom I have tolerated?"
+
+"Sire, unfortunately, the prince has not a very faithful heart.
+Besides, it is Bischofswerder's plan, as I suppose, to separate him from
+Wilhelmine, who will not subordinate herself to him, and who even dares
+to mock the necromancers and visionaries, and oppose them to the crown
+prince."
+
+"Does Enke do that?" asked the king.
+
+"Yes, sire," answered Herzberg, as the king rose and slowly paced the
+room. "And one must acknowledge that in that she does well and nobly.
+Otherwise one cannot reproach her. She leads a quiet, retired life,
+very seldom leaving her beautiful villa at Charlottenburg, but devotes
+herself to the education of her children. She is surrounded with
+highly-educated men, savants, poets, and artists, who indeed all belong
+to the enlightened, the so-called Illuminati, and which are a thorn in
+the eye to Colonel Bischofswerder. Your majesty will perceive that I
+have some good informants in this circle, and the latest news they bring
+me is that the bad influence is upon the increase. The Rosicrucians
+reproach the prince for his immoral connection with Wilhelmine Enke, as
+they would replace her by one who gives herself up to them."
+
+"That shall not take place," cried the king. "No, we will not suffer
+that; and particularly when we are forced to recognize such abominable
+connections, we should endeavor to choose the most desirable. I cannot
+permit that this person, who has at least heart and understanding,
+should be pushed aside by Bischofswerder. My nephew shall retain her,
+and she shall drive away the Rosicrucians with all their deviltries.
+Herzberg, go and tell the crown prince, from me, that I order--"
+
+His majesty suddenly stopped, and looked at Herzberg with surprise, who
+was smiling.
+
+"Why do you laugh, Herzberg?"
+
+"I was not laughing, sire. If my lip quivered against my will, it was
+because I stupidly and foolishly dared to finish the broken sentence."
+
+"Well, how did you manage to conclude it?"
+
+"Sire, your majesty said, 'Tell the crown prince that I order him'--and
+there you ceased. I added 'order him to love Wilhelmine Enke, and be
+faithful to her.' I beg pardon for my mistake. I should have known that
+your majesty could never command the execution of that which is not to
+be forced; that my great king recognizes, as well as I, that love is not
+compulsory, or fidelity either. Pardon me for my impertinence, and tell
+me the order which I shall take to the crown prince from my beloved king
+and master."
+
+The king stepped close up to the minister, and gazed with a half-sad,
+half-tender expression in the noble and gentle face of Herzberg, and
+in the sensible brown eyes, which sank not beneath the fiery glance of
+Frederick. Then, slowly raising his hand from the staff, he menaced him
+with his long, bony forefinger.
+
+"Herzberg, you are a rogue, and will teach me morals. Indeed, you are
+right--love is not compulsory, but one can sometimes aid it. Say nothing
+to the prince. The interior of his house must, indeed, be left to
+himself, but we will keep our eyes open and be watchful. Do so also,
+Herzberg, and if you discover any thing, tell me; and if Wilhelmine Enke
+needs assistance against the infamous Rosicrucians, and with her aid
+this mystic rabble can be suppressed, inform me, and I am ready to send
+her succor. Ah! Herzberg, is it not a melancholy fact that one must
+fight his way through so much wickedness to obtain so little that is
+good? My whole life has passed in toil and trouble; I have grown old
+before my time, and would rest from my labors, and harvest in the last
+few years, what I have sown in a lifetime. Is it not sad that I hope for
+no fruit, and that the seed that I have scattered will be trodden under
+foot by my successor? I must gaze at the future without joy, without
+consolation!"
+
+The king turned to the window, perhaps to hide the tears which stood
+in his eyes. Herzberg did not presume to interrupt the sad silence,
+but gazed with an expression of the deepest sympathy at the little bent
+form, in the threadbare coat. Grief filled his heart at the thought
+that this head was not only bowed down by the weight of years and
+well-deserved laurels, but also from its many cares and griefs, and
+hopeless peering into the future.
+
+The king turned again, and his eyes were bright and un-dimmed. "We must
+never lose courage," said he, "and we must have a reserve corps in life
+as well as upon the field of battle. For the world resembles the latter,
+and the former is a continual war, in which we must not be discouraged
+nor cast down, if there is not hope in our souls. I will cling to As you
+have said, and I have also found it true, that crown prince is a good
+and brave man, and possesses a keen understanding, we may succeed in
+bringing him from the erroneous ways in which his youth, levity, and the
+counsels of wicked friends have led him. We will try with kindness and
+friendliness, as I believe these have more effect upon him. Let us not
+even scorn to aid Wilhelmine in so far as is compatible with honor. If a
+mistress is necessary to the happiness of the prince, this one seems the
+most worthy of all to encourage. Beyond the clouds the stars are still
+shining, and it appears to me as if I see in perspective in the heaven
+of Prussia's future, a star which promises a bright light with years. Do
+you not think with me, the little Prince Frederick William is a rising
+star?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty," answered Herzberg, joyfully, "He is a splendid
+little boy, of simple and innocent heart, and bright, vigorous mind,
+modest and unpretending."
+
+"You see," cried the king, evidently cheered, "there is one star and
+we will watch over it, that it is not obscured. I must see the prince
+oftener. He shall visit me every month and his governors and teachers
+shall report to me every quarter. We will watch over his education, and
+train him to be a good king for the future, and guard ourselves against
+being pusillanimous, foolish, and fretful, and not be discouraged
+in life. I have entered my last lustrum, or five years. Hush! do not
+dispute it, but believe me! My physique is worn out, and the mental
+grows dull, and although I live and move about, I am half in the grave.
+There are two coffins in this room, which contain the greater part of my
+past. Look around, do you not see them?"
+
+"No," said Herzberg, as he glanced at the different articles of
+furniture, "I see none."
+
+"Look upon the table by the window--what do you there see?"
+
+"Your majesty, there is an instrument-case and a sword-sheath."
+
+"They are the ones I refer to. In the case lies my flute, that is to
+say, my youth, love, poesy, and art, are encoffined there. In the sheath
+is my sword, which is my manhood, energy, laurels, and fame. I will
+never play the flute or draw the sword again. All that is past!"
+
+"But there still remains for the great king a noble work to perfect,"
+cried Herzberg. "Youth has flown, and the war-songs are hushed. The poet
+and hero will change to the lawgiver. Sire, you have made Prussia great
+and powerful externally; there remains a greater work, to make her the
+same within. You have added new provinces, give them now a new code of
+laws. You will no longer unsheath the sword of the hero; then raise that
+of justice high above your subjects!"
+
+"I will," cried the king, with beaming eyes. "You have rightly seized
+and comprehended what alone seems to me worthy of will and execution.
+There shall be but one law for the high and the low, the poor and the
+rich. The distinguished Chancellor Carmer shall immediately go to work
+upon it, and you shall aid him. The necessity of such a reform we have
+lately felt in the Arnold process, where the judge decided in favor of
+the rich, and wronged the poor man. How could the judge sustain Count
+Schmettau against the miller Arnold, who had been deprived of the water
+for his mill, when it was so evident that it was unjust?"
+
+"I beg pardon, majesty, but I believe the judge obeyed the very letter
+of the law, and--"
+
+"Then this law must be annulled," interrupted the king. "This is why
+I revoked the judge's sentence, and sent the obstinate fellows to the
+fortress, sustaining the miller in his right deposing the arrogant
+Chancellor Furst. I had long resolved upon it, for I knew that he was a
+haughty fellow, who let the poor crowd his anteroom, and listened to
+the flattery of the high-born rabble who courted him. I only waited an
+occasion to bow his haughty head. This offered, and I availed myself of
+it, voila tout. It is to be hoped that it will be good example for all
+courts of justice. They will remember that the least peasant and
+beggar is a human being as much as the king, and that justice should be
+accorded to if they do not, they will have to deal with me. If a college
+of justice practises injustice, it is more dangerous than a band of
+robbers; for one can protect himself from the latter but the former
+are rascals wearing the mantle of justice, to exercise their own
+evil passions, from whom no man can protect himself, and they are the
+greatest scoundrels in the world and deserve a double punishment. I
+therefore deposed the unjust judge, and sent him to the fortress at
+Spandau, that all might take warning by his fate." [Footnote: The king's
+own words.--Seo "Prussia, Frederick the Great," vol. iv.]
+
+"This Arnold trial belongs to history," said Herzberg. "The lawyers will
+refer to it after the lapse of centuries, and the poor and the oppressed
+will recall and bless the thoughtfulness of the great king, who would
+open just as wide a gate for them to enter the heaven of justice as to
+the rich and noble. This new code of laws will beam above the crown
+of gold and of laurels, with the splendor of the civil crown, whose
+brilliants are the tears of gratitude of your people."
+
+"May it be so," said Frederick, with earnestness. "Now tell me, do you
+know what day of the month it is?"
+
+"Sire, it is the 30th of May.'"
+
+"Yes, you will remember it is the anniversary of Voltaire's death, and
+after I have quarrelled for two years with the priests and so-called
+holy fathers at Rome, I have gained my point, and the honor shall be
+shown him here in Berlin which the priests and friars have refused to
+the immortal poet in his own country. To-day, exactly at the hour
+which Voltaire died, the mass for the dead will be read in the Catholic
+church, to free his immortal soul from purgatory. I have, indeed, no
+idea of an immortal soul. If there are any, and if it has to endure the
+threefold heat of which Father Tobias, of Silesia, related to me, I do
+not believe that the priests, for a few thalers, can loose the unhappy
+spirit from the bake-oven. But as they refuse burial to the spirit of
+Voltaire, in order to insult him after death, so must I avail myself of
+this occasion to offer a last homage to the great poet, which will take
+place at four o'clock. Go to the mass, Herzberg, and tell me to-morrow
+how it went off--whether the priests make right pious faces and burn
+much incense. Adieu. Au revoir, demain."
+
+As the king dismissed, with a friendly wave of the hand, his
+confidential minister, he passed into his cabinet, remaining an
+hour with his counsellors. At dinner appeared some of the generals,
+weather-worn and bent, with wrinkled faces and dull eyes. Souvenirs of
+the glorious years of fame and victory. The king nodded kindly to them,
+but during the entire meal, he only let some indifferent questions fall
+from his lips, which were devotedly and tediously answered by some one
+of the old generals. As their dry, peevish voices resounded through
+the high, vaulted room, it seemed to reawaken in Frederick's heart the
+souvenirs of memory and become the echo of vanished days. He gazed up
+at the little Cupids, in the varied play of bright colors, looking down
+from the clouds, and the goddesses trumpeting through their long tubes
+the fame of the immortal, the same as formerly, when they smiled from
+the clouds upon the beaming face of the young king, dining in the
+distinguished circle of his friends Voltaire, D'Argens, Algarotti, La
+Melbrie, and Keith.
+
+The Cupids were fresh as ever, and the goddesses had not removed the
+trumpets from their lips. But where were the of the merry round-table?
+Returned to dust. The jests and poesy have died away--all have sunken to
+decay and darkness. The king silently raised his glass of Tokay, gazing
+up to the clouds and Cupids, draining it slowly in sacrifice for the
+dead. Then with a vehement, contemptuous movement, he threw the
+glass over his shoulder, shivering it into a thousand pieces. The old
+generals, after dessert, had gently sunk into their afternoon nap, and
+now started, frightened, looking wildly around, as if they expected
+the enemy were approaching. Alkmene crept from under the king's chair
+muffing with her long, delicate nose, the glistening pieces of glass,
+and the footman bent himself to carefully pick them up.
+
+The king rose silently, saluting the old generals, pointing with his
+staff to the large folding-doors which led to the garden.
+
+The footmen hastened forward to open them, and stand in stiff, military
+order upon each side. Frederick walked slowly out, mounting the two
+steps which led to the upper terrace, signing to the attendants to close
+the doors.
+
+He was alone. Only Windspiel was there to spring about joyfully,
+barking, and turning to meet him, who wandered on the border of the
+terrace, where he had formerly walked with his friends. Now he stopped
+to gaze up the broad, deserted steps which led from terrace to terrace,
+as if he could re-people them with the well-known forms, and could see
+them approach and greet him with the look of endless love and constancy.
+Then he raised his eyes to heaven, as if to seek there those he in vain
+sought upon earth.
+
+"Do you not see me, my friends?" he asked, in a gentle but sad voice.
+"Do you not look down wonderingly where you saw a cheerful, smiling
+king, upon the now bent, shrunken old man, cold and phlegmatic, who
+seldom speaks, and then causes every one to yawn? Oh, where have you
+fled, beautiful spring-time of life--wherein once we used to enliven our
+conversations with the wit of the Athenians, and the jest fluttered
+upon our lips as we glided through life in the bold enjoyment of
+youth? Banished is the dance, and I creep about, leaning upon my staff,
+enfeebled in body, and with saddened heart! Oh, awful change, unhappy
+old age! What does it aid me that I am a king? I have won many a battle,
+but now I am vanquished by age and death and am alone!" [Footnote: The
+king's words.--See "Posthumous Works," vol. x., p. 100.]
+
+A slight breeze rustled through the trees, fanning, caressingly, the
+cheeks of the king. The perfume of sweet flowers rose from the terrace,
+and below rushed the cascade. The marble groups around the fountain
+glistened in the golden rays of the sun, and in the dark foliage
+fluttered and sang the merry birds of summer.
+
+Suddenly the wind wafted from the church at Potsdam the clear tones of a
+bell, announcing to the king the hour of four, the death of Voltaire.
+
+The king walked along to the rose-arbor, to the temple of friendship,
+where the bust of his sister Frederika was placed. He seated himself
+near the entrance, listening to the ringing voice of the bell, and
+recalling that the death-mass had now commenced in Berlin.
+
+The service sacred to memory! The prayer for the immortal soul! As the
+lonely king sat there, calm and bowed down, a solemn prayer and holy
+mass rose from his own soul. He bowed lower his head, and, without
+realizing it himself, traced letters in the sand at his feet, with no
+witness but the blue heavens above him, and Windspiel who curiously eyed
+the lines. Thinking of the prayer for Voltaire's undying soul, the king
+had written the word of profoundest mystery and revelation, of hope and
+prophecy--"Immortality."
+
+The wind gently rustled in the trees, wafting the perfume of flowers.
+Sweet stillness reigned around, and lowly sang the birds as if not
+to waken the king, who slept by the marble form of his beloved
+sister--Windspiel upon his knees, and in the sand at his feet the word
+traced by his own hand, "Immortality."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. CAGLIOSTRO'S RETURN.
+
+
+Wilhelmine Enke was still living at her villa at Charlottenburg. She
+was, as formerly, the "unmarried" daughter of the hautboy-player, the
+favorite and friend of the crown prince; the same as two years previous,
+when he presented her before the Bavarian campaign, with this house
+and There was no change in her outward circumstances; her life passed
+regularly and calmly. The once fresh and beautiful cheek had lost
+somewhat of its youthful, roseate hue, and the smile of the ruby lips
+was less haughty, and the warmth of those brilliant eyes was subdued.
+This was the only perceptible difference wrought by the little vexations
+and troubles incident to her position. She had found some bitter
+drops in the golden goblet which the prince in his love pressed to her
+lips--drops which were uncongenial to lips accustomed to the sweets of
+life.
+
+To-day she had awaited him at dinner, and had just received a very
+friendly but laconic letter, excusing himself until the following
+morning. This was an unpalatable drop. Wilhlemine paced back and forth
+the solitary, gloomy path, at the foot of the garden, re-reading this
+letter, and examining every word to search out its hidden meaning.
+
+"They have brought this about," she murmured, tearing the letter into
+little pieces, which lighted upon the shrubbery like butterflies. "Yes,
+it is their work. They have sought by all possible means to draw him
+into their power, and away from me. And they will succeed, as there
+are two of them, and the princess sustains them; and I am alone,
+unsupported. I am entirely alone--alone!"
+
+"If you are alone, then, it is surely your own fault," said an earnest,
+solemn voice, and at the same instant a tall form approached from the
+shrubbery which bordered the side of the garden.
+
+"Cagliostro!" shrieked Wilhelmine, shrinking terrified away. "Oh, mercy
+upon me, it is Cagliostro!"
+
+"Why are you so frightened, my daughter?" he asked, gently. "Why do you
+withdraw from me, and cast down your eyes?"
+
+"I thought you were in Courland," she stammered, confused.
+
+"And whilst you thought me afar, you forgot your sacred oath and
+holy duty," he replied, in a harsh, severe tone. "Oh my daughter, the
+Invisibles weep and lament bitterly over you."
+
+"I am curious to see these tears," said Wilhelmine, who had now
+recovered her self-composure. "Do you think, Herr Magus, any of them
+could be found in the eyes of Colonel Bischofswerder and his intimate
+friend Woellner? Do you pretend that they also weep over me?"
+
+"They do not belong to the Invisibles, but the Visibles. But their souls
+are true and faithful, and would have to mourn over the unhappy one who
+could forget her vows."
+
+"Then allow me to say that I abjure these tears, and laugh at the idea
+that these hypocrites and necromancers weep over me."
+
+"My daughter, what words are these, and how strangely altered you are!
+I have come from the far north, and but just alighted from the
+travelling-carriage. I came at once to see you, and hoped to be greeted
+joyfully with a kiss of love, and what do I hear instead? Harsh words
+filled with scorn and mockery, and disobedience against the Invisible
+Fathers, to whom you have sworn fidelity and submission!"
+
+"You have forced me to it!" she cried, impetuously. "In my own house you
+came upon me and compelled me to take part in your mystic assembly."
+
+"If one loves humanity, he must insist upon its accepting happiness,"
+said Cagliostro, solemnly. "We recognized in you one of the elect, one
+of the great souls which are worthy to see the light, and sun themselves
+in the rays of knowledge. Therefore we accepted you among the spirits of
+the alliance, and--"
+
+"And made great promises, of which not one has been fulfilled. Where
+is the title of countess, the influence, position, honor, and dignity,
+which you prophesied to me?"
+
+"Where are the deeds you promised to perform, the witnesses of your
+fidelity and devotion?" he thunderingly demanded. "You have dared to
+rebel against the holy alliance! Your short-sighted spirit presumes
+to mock those eyes which perceive that you are straying away!
+Beware--Wilhemine, beware! I came to-day to warn you, when I return it
+will be to punish you. Turn, oh turn while there is yet time! Submit
+your will to the Fathers, as you have sworn to do! The promised reward
+will not fail, and Wilhelmine Enke will become a countess, a princess,
+and the most distinguished and powerful will bow before her. The Fathers
+demand of you repentance, and renunciation of the worst enemies of the
+Rosicrucians. Members, and even chiefs and pioneers of the Illuminati
+and Freemasons are welcomed at your house."
+
+"Why should they not be?" asked she, smiling. "They are happy, cheerful
+spirits, void of mysteries, and do not torture people with mysticisms.
+They have but one aim, a great and glorious one, to free the mind from
+superstition and hypocrisy. They encounter with open countenance the
+false devotees who would force men into spiritual servitude, that they
+may become the slaves of their will. You call them 'Illuminati,' while
+they have undertaken to illuminate the minds with the beams of knowledge
+which the Rosicrucians obscure in a mystical fog."
+
+"Unhappy one, do you dare to say that to me?" cried Cagliostro,
+menacingly.
+
+"Yes," she responded, keeping her large, brown eyes firmly fixed upon
+Cagliostro's angry face. "That I dare to repeat to you, and I would also
+remark that we are not in the mystical assembly of the Rosicrucians,
+and your familiar 'Du' is out of place. I belong to the Illuminati, and
+mingle with the freethinkers. They have not, indeed, promised me titles,
+honors, or dignities, but they have amused me, have driven ennui from
+the house, and instead of mysticisms, brought me poesy, and instead of
+the invisible holy church, the Greek temple. It is possible my life
+may not be a godly one, but it is as happy as the gods, and that is
+something in this tedious world."
+
+"I regard you with astonishment," said Cagliostro, "for I recognize in
+your countenance that the devil has won you over to his power, and in
+you he speaks with the bold insolence of the sinful. Subdue, unhappy
+child, your rash speech, that the Fathers may not hear of it, and crush
+you in their wrath."
+
+"I do not fear their thunderbolts, permit me to tell you. We are in
+Prussia; the great king watches over all his subjects; neither the
+Romish Church nor the Rosicrucians can obscure the light of knowledge.
+He will not suffer a ghost, sneaking in the dark, to exercise power
+here, and he will not refuse the protection to me which is accorded to
+the least of his subjects. I do not fear you, and I will tell you the
+truth entire, I believe you to be a hypocrite and a charlatan, who--"
+
+"Miserable one!" interrupted Cagliostro, as he furiously rushed to her,
+seizing her by the arm--"cease, unhappy one, or your life is forfeited
+to the invisible avengers!"
+
+Wilhelmine shook her head, and encountered his flaming eyes with a proud
+glance. "I repeat your own words--cease, or your life will be forfeited!
+Perhaps you think I do not know what happened to you in Mittau, where
+you were recognized as a charlatan, who fooled the poor creatures into
+the belief of his miraculous acts, which consisted in lightening their
+purses to the benefit of his own. You were obliged to flee from Mitlau
+in the night, to save yourself, your treasures, and wonderful man-traps,
+and the beautiful Lorenza Feliciana. Beware! The Empress of Russia had
+a certain Joseph Balsamo pursued, who had practised great deception, and
+people pretend that he resembles Count Cagliostro. The Empress Catherine
+is a good friend and ally of the King of Prussia, and if the happy idea
+should occur to me to propose seeking the necromancer here, the Great
+Kophta might come a miserable end."
+
+"On the contrary, it would only be a welcome occasion for the Great
+Kophta to reveal himself, and hurl his despicable, malicious enemy
+into the dust at his feet," replied Cagliostro, calmly. "Try it, you
+faithless, fallen daughter of the Invisibles--try to unloose the pack
+of my enemies, to recognize that all their yelling and barking does not
+trouble the noble stag to whom God has given the whole world for His
+forestward that He should rule therein. I have listened to you unto the
+end, and I regard your invectives and accusations as not worthy of a
+reply or justification, and I laugh at your menaces. But I warn you,
+Wilhelmine Enke, defy not the Invisibles, and offend not the Holy
+Fathers, by your continued resistance. Turn, misguided child of
+sin--turn while there is yet time! In their name I offer you a last
+chance, their forbearance is without bounds, and their mercy long
+enduring."
+
+"I neither desire your forbearance nor mercy," cried she, proudly. "I
+will have no companionship with my enemies, and the Rosicrucians are
+such, for Bischofswerder and Woellner both hate me, and would put me
+aside. There is no reconciliation where only hostility is possible."
+
+"The heavenly listen not to the voices of the earthly, and prove
+themselves, the most noble when the least deserved. They will protect
+and watch over you, even against your will, and never will they be deaf
+to your cry for aid in the hour of Here is a token of their grace toward
+you. Take this ring--do you recognize it?"
+
+Wilhelmine regarded it attentively. "This is the ring which I gave at
+the tribute-altar instead of gold, which you desired."
+
+"The Invisibles sent it to you to-day as the precious pledge of their
+favor. You shall keep it, and wear it as a token of their heavenly
+forbearance, and when you turn back from the erroneous ways into which
+the Illuminati have led you, send it to the circle of Berlin directors,
+either Bischofswerder or Wollner, and they will come to your rescue.
+Farewell! I forgive you all your wicked words, which fall like spent
+arrows from the helmet of my righteousness."
+
+Cagliostro turned proudly away, and disappeared in the bushes.
+
+Wilhelmine placed the ring upon her finger, turning it to watch the
+play of colors. "I do not know why," said she, "but it has not the same
+brilliancy as formerly. I will take it to the jeweller Wagner, and ask
+him if it is the same stone. Perhaps the Great Kophta has tried some of
+his miracles upon it. I will at once send the servant to Minister von
+Herzberg, and inform him that Cagliostro is here. He has promised me
+protection in the name of the king, and I feel that I shall now have
+need of it."
+
+She hurried to the house, and devoted herself to the writing of the
+said letter--a task she was but little accustomed to. She had learned to
+speak French very prettily, and to express herself skilfully and wittily
+in German, and under her royal master, the crown prince Frederick
+William, gained much valuable scientific knowledge. But to write
+fluently was quite another thing, and it was a long time before the
+epistle was finished. However, happily accomplished, she commanded the
+servant to take it to Berlin.
+
+He bowed with silent submission; but once having quitted the house, a
+cunning smile was visible upon his face, and he availed himself of a
+stage-coach which was going in the same direction. "I can afford this
+expense," said he, arranging himself comfortably. "When I have money in
+my pocket why should I walk the long distance? I was very clever to tell
+Bischofswerder that the Minister von Herzberg had secretly visited my
+mistress, and it was equally clever of him to give me a louis d'or, and
+promise me the same every time that I should bring him important news.
+Indeed, I think to-day he may well thank me, and I believe, if I often
+inform him, he will advance me a degree, and at last I shall be admitted
+to the circle of the elect, while I now belong to the outside circle,
+who know nothing and hope every thing."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. THE TRIUMVIRATE.
+
+
+While Wilhelmine's servant gave himself up to his hopes, slowly down
+the broad avenue, an elegant four-in-hand carriage rolled past him, and
+stopped at the house where lived Colonel Bischofswerder, long before he
+had reached the Brandenburg Gate. A gentleman sprang out, hastening
+past the footman into the house, where a servant evidently awaited
+his arrival, and preceded him with devout mien, throwing open the wide
+folding-doors and announcing, in a solemn voice--"His excellency, Count
+Cagliostro." He then respectfully withdrew, bowing profoundly as the
+count passed, and closed quickly and noiselessly the doors behind him.
+
+The two gentlemen within hastened to meet the count, who nodded
+smilingly, and extended to them with a gracious condescension his white
+hand sparkling with diamonds. "My dear brothers," said he, "you have
+unfortunately announced me the truth--Wilhelmine Enke is faithless--is
+an apostate."
+
+"A courtesan, ensnared by the devil of unchastity," murmured the elder
+of the two--a man of long, lank figure, pale, pock-marked face, the
+broad high forehead shaded with but little hair, the watery blue eyes
+turned upward, as if in pious ecstasy, and the large, bony hands either
+folded as if in prayer, or as if in quiet contemplation, twirling his
+thumbs around each other. "I have always said so," said he, with a
+long-drawn sigh; "she is a temptress, whom Satan, in bodily repetition
+of himself, has placed by the prince's side, and his salvation cannot be
+counted upon until this person is removed."
+
+"And you, my beloved brother, think otherwise--do you not?" asked
+Cagliostro, gently.
+
+"Yes," answered Bischofswerder, "you know well, sublime master and
+ruler, how much I esteem and love the worthy and honorable Wollner,
+and how much weight his opinion has with me. In all my reports to the
+Invisible Fathers I have always particularly mentioned him, and it was
+upon my wish and proposal that they appointed him director of one of the
+three Berlin circles. He is occupied near me in the confederacy, and
+is also in the service of the crown prince, for it was by my especial,
+earnest recommendation that his highness called him to Berlin from the
+exchequer of Prince Henry at Rheinsberg, that he might give him lectures
+in politics and other branches of administration, I do not say it to
+boast, although I have always regarded it as an honor to have opened the
+way to a distinguished man, to have his great talents properly valued.
+I only say it to prove my high appreciation of dear brother Wollner, and
+to defend myself, master, in your eyes, that I differ in opinion from
+him, and do not advise a violent removal of this person, to whom the
+prince is more attached than he himself knows of."
+
+"It is not necessary to excuse yourself to me, my son," said Cagliostro,
+pompously. "The eyes which the Invisibles have lighted up with a beam of
+revelation, see into the depths of things, and reveal the most hidden.
+I have glanced into your hearts, and I will tell you that which I have
+therein read. You, Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder, belong to the world;
+its joys and sorrows agitate you. You have a longing for science and the
+knowledge of the Invisibles, and you would also enjoy the Visibles, and
+take part in the pleasures of life. What you would allow yourself, that
+you would also grant to your royal master, whose friend and leader you
+are, and who, one day, will be the future king and ruler of the visible
+world, and a faithful son and servant of the Invisibles. Is it not
+thus?"
+
+"It is so," answered Bischofswerder, who, with wondering astonishment,
+drank in every word that fell from Cagliostro's lips as a revelation.
+"You have read the inmost thoughts of my heart, and what I scarcely
+suspected myself, you are knowing of, lord and master."
+
+"Toil and strive, my son, and you shall rise to the highest grade, in
+which presentiment and recognition, thinking and knowing, are one."
+
+He extended to Bischofswerder his hand, who fervently pressed it to his
+lips; then turned to Wollner, who, with upturned gaze and folded hands,
+might have been praying, for his thumbs were not turning around, but
+rested, quietly crossed.
+
+"You, my son and brother," continued Cagliostro, with his lofty, haughty
+reserve, "your thoughts are diverted from earth, and the joys of this
+world have no charm for you!" "I have laid the oath of virtue and
+chastity upon the altar of the Invisibles," replied Wollner, with
+a severe tone of voice. "I have given myself to a pious life of
+abstinence, and sworn to employ every means to lead those that I can
+attain to upon the narrow path which leads to the paradise of science,
+of knowledge, and heavenly joys. How could I forget my oath, which is to
+win the prince, who is to become a light and shield in the holy order,
+from the broad course of vice, to the pathway of the blest? How can I
+bear to see him lost in sin who is elected to virtue, and who longs for
+the light of knowledge?"
+
+"But, in order to bear the light in its brightness, he must have passed
+through the darkness and gloom of sin," said Cagliostro. "After the days
+of error follow those of knowledge. This is what causes the mildness
+of our brother Theophilus, whom the earthly world calls Bischofswerder,
+whilst you, brother Chrysophorus, demand from the prince the severest
+virtue, which is the first great vow of the brothers advancing in the
+holy order of the Rosicrucians. You are both wrong and both right. It is
+well to be lenient as brother Theophilus, but that must have its limit,
+and the night wanderer who stands upon the brink of a precipice must
+be awakened, but not with violent words, or calling loudly his name,
+because a sudden awakening would only hasten his fall. Slowly and
+carefully must he be roused; as one would by degrees accustom the
+invalid eyes to the mid-day, so must the light of virtue and knowledge
+dawn upon the eyes, ill from vice, with prudent foresight. Hear my
+proposal. Summon the three circles of the brothers of the highest degree
+to a sitting to-night. You have told me that the prince desires to
+belong to the seeing ones, and be in communion with the spiritual world.
+This night his wish shall be fulfilled, to see the spirits, and a new
+future shall rise before him. My time is limited; let us arrange every
+thing, for the voices of the Invisibles already call me home."
+
+At this instant a modest knocking was heard at the door, which was
+repeated at different intervals.
+
+"It is my servant," said Bischofswerder, "and he has undoubtedly an
+important communication for me."
+
+He opened the door, speaking with the person outside in a low tone, and
+returned with a sealed note.
+
+Cagliostro, apparently, was lest in deep thought and indifferent to the
+conversation without, directing quietly and calmly, in the mean time,
+a few questions to Wollner, and, as it seemed, listening only to his
+answers. Yet as Bischofswerder approached him, saying, "it is, indeed,
+important news; I have proof in hand that--" he interrupted him with a
+commanding motion, and finished the broken sentence: "--that Wilhelmine
+Enke is a powerful adversary, having connection with the court, as this
+letter from her is directed to Minister Herzberg. Is it not this that
+you would say, Theophilus?"
+
+Astonished, he replied in the affirmative, begging his master to read
+it.
+
+"It is unnecessary," replied Cagliostro, waving back the letter; "to the
+seeing eyes every thing is revealed. This person announces to Minister
+von Herzberg that the deceiver and necromancer, Cagliostro, in his
+flight from Mittau, has visited her to menace her. She begs protection
+for herself and an arrest for me; that I am known as Count Julien, at
+the hotel King of Portugal, at Berlin, and that haste is necessary."
+
+Both gentlemen glanced astonished and enraptured, first at the sealed
+epistle and then at the great Magus.
+
+"Open the letter and convince yourselves of the contents!" commanded
+Cagliostro.
+
+"It is unnecessary," cried Bischofswerder, with enthusiasm. "We
+recognize in you truth and knowledge; you have revealed to us the
+contents."
+
+"Nay, there is a lingering doubt in the mind of brother Chrysophorus!"
+said Cagliostro, regarding Woellner fixedly, who stood with downcast
+eyes before him.
+
+"My ruler and master," stammered Woellner, in confusion, "I dare not
+doubt, only--"
+
+"You would only be convinced, open then the letter," interrupted
+Cagliostro, sarcastically.
+
+With a sharp knife, Bischofswerder cut the end of the envelope, and
+handed the letter to him.
+
+"Give it to Chrysophorus," commanded the count. "He shall read it, and
+may the incredulous become a believer!"
+
+Woellner perused the epistle with a slightly tremulous voice, stopping
+now and then, at an illegible word, which his master quickly supplied
+to him, finishing the sentence as correctly as if he held the writing in
+his hand.
+
+The contents were exactly as Cagliostro had given them, and the
+farther Wollner read, the more his voice quivered and Bischofswerder's
+enthusiasm increased.
+
+As the reading was finished, the former sank, with uplifted hands,
+before his master, as if imploring mercy from a mighty, crushing power.
+
+"I have been unbelieving as Tobias, doubting as Paul; have mercy on
+me, O master! for in this hour the divine light of belief and knowledge
+banishes doubt from my sinful heart. I acknowledge thy supernatural
+power and heavenly wisdom! My whole being bows in humility before you
+and your sublimity, and henceforth I will only be your humble scholar
+and servant, the tool of your will. Forgive me, all-knowing one, if
+my heart doubted. Breathe upon me the breath of knowledge, and lay
+thy august right hand upon my head, and penetrate me with thy heavenly
+power."
+
+"Have mercy upon me also," cried Bischofswerder, as he kneeled beside
+Woellner, and, like him, raised his hands imploringly to Cagliostro.
+"Breathe upon me the breath of thy grace, and regard me, the repentant
+and unworthy, with thy heavenly glance!"
+
+Cagliostro looked to heaven, and from his lips there fell disconnected
+words of exhortation; suddenly he drew forth his hands, which he had
+pushed into his gown and crossed upon his breast, stretching them out
+with wide-spread fingers.
+
+"Come to me, ye spirits!" he cried, in a loud, thundering voice. "Ye
+spirits of fire and air, come to me! Ye shall flame and burn upon the
+heads of these two persons and announce to them that the Invisibles are
+with us. Come to me, ye spirits of fire!"
+
+He clinched his fingers, extending them again, and upon the points
+there danced and flickered a blue light. A heavenly smile shone upon the
+beautiful face of the Magus, his hands slowly sank upon the heads of
+the kneeling ones, the flames gliding upon their heads, resting there a
+moment, and then dying away.
+
+"The Invisibles have proclaimed themselves to you through the sign of
+fire," cried Cagliostro. "The sacred flame has glowed upon your heads,
+and I now press upon your brow the solemn kiss of consecration and
+knowledge!"
+
+He bowed down to the kneeling ones. It seemed as if a cloud of perfume
+had passed over their glowing faces, or as if an odorous lily had been
+pressed upon their foreheads, and their hearts quivered with delight.
+He passed his hand lightly over their faces, and a feeling of rapture
+spread through their whole being. Then as he commanded them to rise,
+they obeyed, without realizing that they had limbs or body, but regarded
+the miracle-worker, entranced with his smile.
+
+Cagliostro, with hasty decision and earnest, commanding air, made a few
+opposite strokes in the air, and immediately the faces of the magnetized
+looked as if they had awakened from a dream of splendor and delight to
+insipid, flat reality.
+
+"I have permitted you to behold, for an instant, the mysteries and
+miracles which are serviceable to the knowing ones," said Cagliostro,
+with calm earnestness. "Your souls were in communion with the
+Invisibles, and from the source of knowledge a spark of illumination
+fell upon your heads. Guard it as a heavenly secret that no one should
+know of, and now let us continue our conversation."
+
+"Permit me once more to lay my head at your feet, and receive power from
+the touch thereof," implored Bischofswerder.
+
+"Let me embrace your knees, and entreat pardon and grace," begged
+Woellner, as he sank down to clasp them, and the former threw himself at
+the feet of his master, passionately kissing them.
+
+Smilingly he received their homage, and assisted them to rise.
+
+"Now let us speak in a human, reasonable manner, my friends. Brother
+Theophilus, you, first of all, return the letter to the envelope and
+seal it."
+
+Bischofswerder obeyed; taking from the table a little bottle and a small
+brush, he carefully applied an adhesive substance to the edges, pressing
+them firmly together.
+
+"Master, no one could discover that it had been opened. Command what
+shall be done with it."
+
+"Give it to your servant, that he may return it to him who brought it,
+and the latter can now deliver it at its address."
+
+"To the Minister Herzberg!" they both cried, amazed. "It is impossible;
+he is a sworn enemy of the holy order and your own heavenly person. He
+could take the most violent measures, and cause your excellency to be
+arrested."
+
+"I believe it," smiled Cagliostro. "The great Frederick would announce
+triumphantly that he had had the great Semiramis of the North taken,
+which the Russian police had failed to accomplish. It would be a welcome
+triumph for unbelievers and fools, and they would trumpet it joyfully
+through the world! It must not be; although my spirit in its power and
+might would soon release my body, yet I will not grant this momentary
+triumph to my enemies. My time is limited; I must forth to Egypt, where
+the Brothers of the Millennium will assemble in the course of a week in
+the pyramids, to announce to me their will for the coming century. I
+am the Spirit of God, which the Invisibles have willed to enter a human
+form, therefore it must be regarded as sacred and protected."
+
+"Allow me to guard, with my life, your sublime person!" cried
+Bischofswerder.
+
+"And I also implore you to grant me the happiness to watch over the
+security of your heavenly self, and defend it to the last drop of my
+blood!" cried Woellner; "only tell us what we have to do."
+
+"Above all things obey my command concerning the letter," replied the
+count, smiling.
+
+Bischofswerder submissively went out with the epistle, returning in a
+few moments. "It is as you have ordered: in a quarter of an hour it will
+be in the hands of Minister Herzberg."
+
+"No," replied the count, fixing his eyes upon empty space, "it will
+not be there, for Herzberg is not at home. I now see him driving in a
+carriage with four black steeds to the country. At this instant he
+is crossing a bridge, now he enters a town, turning down one of the
+streets, where the noise of the wheels is lost. Again I hear him,
+leaving by the gate, ascending a broad avenue."
+
+"It is the route to Sans-Souci," murmured Bischofswerder, in a low voice,
+but the count must have understood him, as he repeated aloud:
+
+"Yes, that is the route to Sans-Souci, and the lonely, fretful old king
+will keep his minister the entire day, and will not receive the missive
+from his secret female accomplice until his return in the evening, and
+then he will dispatch his bailiffs in all haste to the hotel to arrest
+Count St. Julien, and forward an order to every gate to forbid his
+departure. It will be too late, however--he will have already departed."
+
+"Departed!" cried the two gentlemen, frightened. "Will you, then,
+forsake us?"
+
+"Hush, my brothers, be quiet!" answered Cagliostro. "I shall have
+departed for the profane, but I will remain here for the consecrated
+until to-morrow morning. It oft happens that the lofty even must come
+down, and the brilliant obscure themselves. To-day I must descend from
+my spiritual height, and humble myself in the dust of lowliness. When
+the unholy and unconsecrated essay to behold that which they should not
+with their earthly eyes; they must be blinded with earthly dust, and for
+those which are not worthy of miracles, we must sometimes condescend to
+jugglers' tricks. By the latter I will mislead my enemies to-day. How
+many gates are there to the city of Berlin?"
+
+"There are nine, master."
+
+"Send immediately messengers around in your circles to order eight
+travelling-carriages and sixteen large black trunks. Further, send
+me eight confidential discreet men of my height and size, with eight
+perukes, exactly the cut of mine. Command four post-horses, with two
+postilions for eight different addresses. This is all that is necessary
+for the moment."
+
+"All shall be faithfully and quickly accomplished," said Bischofswerder,
+humbly. "We will divide the execution of your orders, and there only
+remains to appoint the time and place when and where to direct the
+postilions."
+
+"All this will follow; forget not, in trifling, earthly things, the
+great heavenly circumstances. Summon the consecrated of the highest
+degree of your circle to go to-night to the palace of Prince Frederick
+William at Potsdam, and under the very eyes of the old freethinking king
+we will open to the crown prince the doors of the spiritual world, and
+consecrate him to the highest degree. But first the Invisibles shall
+speak with him, and announce the heavenly region of the unapproachable.
+Finish the preparations, my brothers--fulfil exactly and punctually my
+orders, and then come to the hotel to receive my last commands."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. FUTURE PLANS.
+
+
+Cagliostro quitted the two confidants, entered his carriage awaiting
+him before the door, and drove to the hotel. The host and chief waiter
+received him with extreme deference, both accompanying him up the
+stairs--the latter throwing wide open the large doors of his room. The
+count turned, and, in addressing some indifferent question to the host,
+opened his gold-embroidered blue satin vest.
+
+The host turned pale, and shrank back, as if seized with a sudden
+fright. Cagliostro passed on, motioning him to follow, which he humbly
+obeyed, sinking upon his knees as the door closed.
+
+"Have you recognized the sign which I wear upon my breast?"
+
+"Yes, master," he stammered, bowing down with the greatest reverence.
+
+"Then you belong to the elect of the Inner Temple, for the sign of
+knowledge is only made known to them."
+
+"I do, indeed, understand its mysteries, master, and I know that one
+of the Invisibles, in infinite condescension, appears in a visible form
+before me. Immeasurable as the happiness, is my obedience! Command me,
+master; my life and riches belong to the holy alliance!"
+
+"Rise and receive my orders," replied Cagliostro, with great dignity. In
+a brief, dictatorial manner he communicated the necessary arrangements;
+then dismissed him with a haughty nod, and entered the adjoining room of
+his wife, Lorenza Feliciana.
+
+She had thrown herself upon the divan, in charming neglige. Her head was
+encircled with black ringlets, which she wore unpowdered, despite the
+fashion. Her eyes were closed, and her beautiful shoulders were but half
+concealed by a black lace veil.
+
+She slept so quietly and soundly that the count did not awaken her upon
+entering. He approached her lightly upon the soft carpet, and stood
+regarding her attentively. A pleasant smile spread over his face,
+softening its expression, and his eyes beamed with passionate
+tenderness.
+
+"She is indeed beautiful," he murmured, softly. "No one could withstand
+the charm of this wonderful woman. Ah, would that I could crush these
+wicked spirits within me, silence all these seductive, sinful voices,
+and fly to some secluded valley of our dear fatherland, and there,
+reposing on her love, let life glide calmly on and smile at the past
+without regret, as a fading dream! Would that I could forget, and become
+again pure and innocent, blest in my affection, simple in my tastes, and
+without wants! But no, it is too late! I cannot retreat, the demons
+will not be driven out; to them my soul belongs, and I must fulfil my
+destiny!--Awake, Lorenza, awake!" Her beautiful form shook with fright;
+she started, opened her eyes, demanding, "What is the matter? Who is
+here?"
+
+"It is I, Lorenza," he said, sadly; "I was obliged to awaken you, to
+tell you something important."
+
+"Are the pursuers here? Have they discovered us? Are they coming to take
+us to prison?"
+
+"No, no; be quiet, Lorenza, no one has discovered us!"
+
+"Quiet!" she repeated, with a scornful laugh. "We have travelled day and
+night the last ten days, hiding ourselves in miserable holes and dens,
+under assumed names, believing our pursuers were at our hacks; and now
+that we are showing ourselves publicly, you ask me to be quiet! I have
+slept for the first time since that fearful night in Mittau, and it is
+very cruel and thoughtless of you to wake me, if the bailiffs are not
+here, and danger does not menace us."
+
+"For the moment we are safe, but I have something important to tell
+you."
+
+"Important?" she cried, shrugging her shoulders. "What is of consequence
+to me, since that night? Oh, when I think of it, I could shriek with
+rage, I could annihilate myself in despair!"
+
+"It was indeed a dreadful experience, and my heart quakes when I think
+of it," said Cagliostro, gloomily. "The secret assembly consisted of
+the highest and most influential of the Courland nobility. Suspecting
+no wrong, not even that there could be traitors among the believers who
+would falsify my spirit apparatus, I gave myself up to conjuring the
+departed."
+
+"And I upon my fairy throne," added Lorenza, "couched in the innocent
+costume of the celestial, only veiled with a silvery cloud, heard a
+sudden shriek. The room was quite dark; I saw, upon opening my eyes,
+that no spirits enlivened it."
+
+"Every thing failed--that is to say, my assistants let it fail," said
+the count, "and the assembly began to murmur. Suddenly, instead of the
+departed princes and heroes, what fearful forms arose!"
+
+"Apes, cats, and other animals," cried Lorenza, with a loud laugh. "Oh,
+what an irresistible sight! In spite of my anger I had to laugh, and
+laugh I did upon the fairy throne, like--"
+
+"Like a foolish child who neither knows nor understands danger,"
+interrupted the count. "Your laughing soon ceased in the fearful tumult
+and uproar. They shrieked for light, the ladies fled, and the men
+menaced me with loud curses, calling me a charlatan, and threatening my
+life!"
+
+"Mine also," cried Lorenza; "oh, what insults and ill-treatment I was
+forced to listen to! They rushed upon me, shrieking for the brilliants
+and money which they had brought me as an offering. How they scolded and
+called me a deceiver! I was only very beautiful and coquettish, and that
+was no deception! I charmed them with my coyness, and they brought
+me the most costly presents, because I was a virtuous woman. Now they
+reproached me, demanding a return of them all, which they had forced
+upon me of their own free will. I was obliged to bear it silently in my
+costume of innocence, and as goddess I could not defend myself and speak
+with human beings--who pushed up to the throne. It was a very ridiculous
+position; happily I did not quite lose my senses, but let the apparatus
+play, and disappeared into my dressing-room below, which fortunately
+closed above me. I dressed, and rushed to your room to rescue my
+treasures."
+
+"Even in this extreme danger you only thought of your riches, not of
+me," said Cagliostro, with a bitter smile.
+
+"Have you not taught me yourself that money was the only thing worth
+striving to possess? Have you not revealed to in wisdom that riches
+alone make us happy, and procure for us honor, power, love, and
+constancy? Ah! Joseph, have you not made me the miserable, heartless
+creature that I am? Can you reproach me that your teaching has borne
+such good fruit? I am happy to be the priestess of wealth, and grateful
+for what you have made known to me."
+
+"It is true," sighed Cagliostro, "I have taught you the truth of things;
+I have disclosed to you the world's motive power. Riches are indeed the
+god upon earth, toward whom all are pressing, rushing on. We must all
+follow and serve him as slaves, or be crushed under the wheels of his
+triumphal car. Men talk and reason about the storm and pressure which
+is spreading through the world, and finally will reduce every thing to
+storm the eternal and undying bliss of wealth, and press on for gold."
+
+"To think that we have lost every thing!" cried Lorenza, springing up
+and stamping with her silken-shod foot; "every thing is lost that I have
+been years gaining, by hypocrisy, deception, and coquetry. They have
+robbed me! The shameful barbarians have seized all our effects. The
+police surrounded the house, guarding every entrance, and we were
+obliged to escape by the roof into the house of one of the brothers,
+leaving all our treasures behind."
+
+"You exaggerate, Lorenza, and represent it worse than it is. Look
+around; you are surrounded with luxury and comfort. Our great
+undertakings in Courland and St. Petersburg have failed, it is true, and
+the Russian empress has ordered me to be driven away and pursued. But
+the Invisible Fathers have not forsaken me, as they know that I am a
+useful tool in their hands. They have carefully provided me with money,
+passports, and instructions. We have lost thousands, but we will regain
+them, for the future is ours. I am protected by the order, and called
+to a new and important mission in Paris, to strive for the sacred aim of
+the Church."
+
+"And have they no mission for me?" asked Lorenza. "Is there nothing
+further for me to do in that city than to be a beautiful woman, and play
+tricks for my dear husband?"
+
+"Great events await you in Paris, which we will aid you to prepare. The
+Invisible Fathers send you before me to the Cardinal de Rohan. You are
+going to Paris in the service of the revolution of minds. The carriage
+is ordered, and you are to set off this very hour."
+
+"And when are you going, Joseph?" Lorenza asked, with a touch of
+melancholy.
+
+"I shall officially depart in an hour, but in reality at the same
+time that the Baroness von Balmore leaves the hotel in her
+travelling-carriage. Near the waiting-maid will a servant sit upon the
+box. I shall be he."
+
+"Officially you depart in an hour; what does that mean?" Cagliostro
+smiled. "It is a long story and a comical one. Come, seat yourself by
+me upon the sofa; repose your head upon me, and listen to what I will
+relate to you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. MIRACLES AND SPIRITS.
+
+
+Late in the afternoon of the same day a travelling-carriage drove up
+before the hotel "King of Portugal," in the Burgstrasse, with two
+large black trunks strapped upon it behind the footman's box, and the
+postilion, sitting by the coachman, playing the beautiful and popular
+air, "Es ritten drei Reuter cum Thore hinaus!"
+
+Count St. Julien descended the stairs, followed by the host, and nodded
+in a lofty manner to the two waiters and hostler awaiting him at the
+entrance, who returned it by a profound bow, at the same time not
+failing to see the white hand extended with the trinkgeld.
+
+The host himself closed the carriage door, and the count departed amid
+the merry peals of the postilion, the former gazing after him with the
+satisfaction of one who has made a good bargain. The servants watched
+it, too, until it had disappeared around the corner of the next street.
+
+At this instant the quivering tones of a post-horn were heard, and an
+open caleche appeared and stopped before the hotel with two large black
+travelling-trunks upon it, and the postilion upon the box blowing the
+popular air, "Es ritten drei Reuter zum Thore hinaus!"
+
+The host observed the empty carriage with a smile, but the servants
+asked themselves astonished what it meant, and as they turned and saw
+Count St. Julien descending the stairs, they were startled. He offered
+them the usual trinkgeld, entered the carriage, and rolled away with a
+commanding nod.
+
+The host seemed speechless with astonishment, and stood as if rooted
+to the spot. The servants stared after the carriage until it turned
+the corner; when just then a post-horn was heard playing the agreeable
+melody of "Drei Reuter," and a travelling-carriage with two large black
+trunks drove up to the door.
+
+The servants turned pale, looking shyly toward the stairs. Slowly and
+with great dignity Count St. Julien descended, greeting them with a
+gentlemanly nod as he passed, and, extending his white hand with a
+trinkgeld, mounted his carriage, and drove away.
+
+The host stood as if stunned, outside the door, looking right and left
+with unspeakable terror. The servants tremblingly fixed their eyes
+upon the stairs, no longer possessing the power to move, but heard the
+post-horn, and the carriage which drove up to the door the third time.
+Slowly and proudly Count St. Julien advanced. It was the same cold,
+grave face, with the thick black beard, and the powdered peruke, the
+curls of which overshadowed the brow and cheeks. He wore exactly the
+same dark-brown cloak over the black velvet dress. The white hand, with
+broad lace wrist-ruffles, reached them also a trinkgeld.
+
+This time the fellows had scarcely self-possession sufficient to take
+the present, for every thing swam before their eyes, and their hearts
+one moment almost ceased to beat, and then palpitated with the feverish
+rapidity of terror.
+
+"I would run away," murmured the chief waiter, as Count St. Julien for
+the fourth time drove away, "if my feet were not riveted to the floor."
+
+"If I could move mine I would have gone long ago," groaned the second
+waiter, the clear drops standing upon his forehead. "It is witchcraft!
+Oh, Heaven! they are coming again, playing the 'Drei Reuter.'"
+
+The count descended the stairs for the fifth time, whispered to
+the hostler, who was quite engrossed counting his money, handed the
+trinkgeld to the pale fellows by the door, and mounted his carriage,
+driving away amid the merry peals of the post-horn.
+
+"Julius," murmured the steward, softly, "give my hair a good pulling,
+that I may awake from this horrible dream."
+
+"I cannot," he whimpered, "my hands and feet are lame. I cannot move."
+
+"I will," said the hostler, courageously stretching forth his hand, and
+pulling it so vigorously that the steward was fully convinced of the
+reality of things.
+
+Again the post-horn sounded the "Drei Reuter;" again the carriage
+stopped before the door, and the count descended, giving to every one a
+gift like the "Maedchen aus der Fremde," and for the sixth time rolled
+away.
+
+"We are bewitched; it is a ghost from the infernal regions!" groaned the
+steward.
+
+"I cannot abide it any longer--I shall die!" said the second waiter.
+
+"I do not mind it," said the hostler, as he jingled the money; "if they
+are ghosts from hell, the eight groschen do not come from there, for
+they are quite cool. See how--Ah, there comes the count again!"
+
+For the seventh time he passed down the stairway, by the servants, who
+wore no longer standing but kneeling, which the count received as a
+proof of their profound respect, and slipped the money into their hands.
+
+"Praise God, all good spirits!" murmured the head waiter; but neither
+the count nor the money seemed to be moved by the pious exhortation,
+for he quietly entered his carriage, and the eight groschen lay in the
+servant's hand, at which the hostler remarked that he would stand there
+all night if the count would only continually pass by with groschen.
+It pleased the count to descend the stairs yet twice more, divide the
+trinkgeld, and mount his carriage. As he drove away the ninth time, it
+appeared as if the Drei Reuter were determined to drive out of the gate
+and forsake the hotel "King of Portugal." The host waited awhile, and
+talked with the neighbors, who, roused by the continual blast of the
+post-horn, were curious to know how it happened that so many guests were
+departing by extra posts. Whereupon the host, in a hollow, sepulchral
+voice, his eyes glaring, and shrugging his shoulders, declared that
+there had been but one gentleman at the hotel, but nine times he had
+seen him drive away, and the devil must have a hand in the matter!
+
+Shaking his head, he returned to the hotel, and found the servants
+busily counting their money, occasionally casting covetous looks toward
+the stairs, as if they hoped the count would again descend.
+
+Exactly as Cagliostro had foretold, Minister Herzberg did not return
+from Sans-Souci until late in the evening, and then found Wilhelmine's
+letter in his cabinet.
+
+Immediately the police were instructed to arrest Count St. Julien at the
+hotel "King of Portugal."
+
+An hour later the chief of the police came to say that the count had
+already been gone two hours. He repeated the account of the host,
+corroborated by the servants, of nine different counts having driven
+away from the hotel.
+
+Herzberg smiled. "We have to deal with a very clever scoundrel," said
+he, "and it is no other than the so-called Count Cagliostro, who was
+lately exposed as a bold trickster in Mittau and St. Petersburg, and
+about whose arrest the Empress Catharine is very much exercised. It
+would be very agreeable to the king to show this little attention to her
+imperial highness, and trap the adroit pickpocket."
+
+"We might succeed in catching him in his flight," remarked the chief.
+"For the last six months the king has given orders that every passport
+should be examined at the gates, and the route of the travellers noted
+down, which is all registered and sent to the king. It would be very
+easy to discover by which gate he departed, and his route, and then have
+him pursued."
+
+"That is well thought of, director; hasten to put it into execution,
+and inform us of the result." He returned in an hour to the minister's
+cabinet, shaking his head gravely. "Your excellency, it is very strange,
+but he is a wizard. This man has driven out of the nine gates at the
+same hour and minute."
+
+Herzberg laughed. "This is one of his tricks, and by it I recognize the
+great necromancer."
+
+"Your excellency, this is no trickery, but witchery. It is impossible
+for any one man to drive out of the nine gates at the same hour, in the
+same carriage, with two large black trunks and a postilion blowing the
+same melody, and provided with a correct passport, which he shows and is
+recognized as Count St. Julien, who is going to Paris by Hamburg. Here
+are the nine registers from the different gates, all the same, if I am
+not bewitched and do not read straight."
+
+"This trick does honor to the count," said Herzberg, smiling. "To-morrow
+you shall accompany me to Sans-Souci and read aloud the registers to the
+king. Do you think it will be impossible to pursue the count now?"
+
+"I should be very happy to follow your excellency's judgment in this
+matter, and arrest the rascal in any way that you could point out," said
+the director.
+
+"I am convinced that he is in the city; and driving put of the nine
+gates at the same time was the best manner to escape being discovered,"
+said Herzberg. "He is concealed in some one of the houses of the
+brothers, and we shall be obliged to let him escape this time."
+
+In order the more securely to carry out the initiation of Prince
+Frederick William, in company with Bischofswerder and Woellner,
+Cagliostro had arranged his pretended departure. For a long time the
+prince had expressed an extreme desire to be received into the mysteries
+of the miraculous and holy order, of which he had heard his friends
+speak with so much reverence. But he had been put off from time to
+time with regrets and shrugs of the shoulders, and expressions of the
+impossibility of granting the request.
+
+"The spirits do not always appear even to the consecrated," said
+Bischofswerder. "They make themselves known after many fervent prayers
+and implorings, and when we have withdrawn from every one who could
+entice us to doubt or disbelief. I fear that it would be impossible to
+conjure the spirits of the departed, so long as your highness honors a
+certain lady with your particular favor, who ridicules the sublime order
+and mingles with its enemies. How can they appear to those who have just
+been in the company of a friend of the Illuminati and unbelievers?"
+
+"The spirit-world only reveals itself to the virtuous and pure," said
+Woellner, in a harsh, dry voice. "Its inhabitants cannot approach those
+who are not chaste and innocent, for sin and vice surround them with a
+thick fog, which keeps them at a distance from the clear atmosphere
+of the sublime. If you would call up the spirits, you must remove this
+woman who entices you from the path of virtue, and renders the sphere
+impure around you."
+
+Despite the warnings and the great wish the prince had to be received
+into the spirit-world, and become a member of the highest grade of
+the Rosicrucians, he could not resolve to forsake her who had been his
+friend for ten years, and who had borne shame and degradation on his
+account, refusing eligible and rich men rather than leave him and become
+a legitimate wife. Wilhelmine was the beloved of his youth, the mother
+of his two dear children, and she alone knew how to drive away the ennui
+which pursued the prince, with her amiable, subtle wit. Nay, he could
+not be so ungrateful, so heartless, as to reject her who had so tenderly
+loved him when young and beautiful, now that the first bloom of youth
+and beauty had faded!
+
+Bischofswerder and Woellner recognized this difficulty, and applied
+themselves the more energetically for its removal. They supposed that
+the unexpected arrival of Cagliostro would very naturally appear to the
+prince as a special messenger, sent, without doubt, from the fathers,
+to accomplish his conversion. They announced to the prince that the
+Invisibles had taken pity upon his desire for knowledge, and had
+consented to permit him to gaze into the regions of the blest, although
+he wandered in the path of vice, and that he must hold himself in
+readiness to accompany the messenger whenever he should be sent to call
+him.
+
+For this reason the crown prince had written to Wilhelmine that she
+should not expect him until the following morning, and he did not quit
+his room the entire day, with excited expectation awaiting the summons.
+As evening set in the prince was cast down, and quite of the opinion
+that the Invisibles did not deem him worthy to enter their pure
+presence, and thought that Wilhelmine must be the hinderance. Whilst he
+was reflecting whether to sacrifice his beloved to the salvation of his
+soul, the secret door gently opened, and two men, masked and wrapped in
+black cloaks, entered and placed themselves near the door. The prince
+did not remark their entrance, and was quite frightened as he chanced to
+turn, and saw these two immovable figures.
+
+With quivering voice he demanded their mission.
+
+In the same tone, as if one were an echo of the other, they answered,
+"We desire nothing, but you demand knowledge of the spirit-world, and
+would have its mysteries revealed to you, which the Invisibles will now
+grant you. Follow us, therefore!" They reopened the secret door; one of
+the masked preceded the prince, and the other followed him.
+
+The prince shuddered at the thought that he might be rushing into some
+unknown danger, and intrusting himself to those who would misuse his
+confidence. He demanded to see their faces, declaring himself prepared
+to follow, when acquainted with his guides.
+
+"It would then be better to remain," replied one of the masked. "He
+who lacks confidence is not worthy of it, and he who trusts only the
+Visibles, the Invisibles flee."
+
+The prince recognized the voice of Bischofswerder, and smiled, but
+he knew not that it was permitted him to hear it to inspire him with
+courage.
+
+"Well, so let it be; the fathers shall see that I am a believer," cried
+the prince.
+
+Immediately one of the brothers put his own cloak, three-cornered hat,
+and mask upon his highness, still remaining cloaked and masked himself,
+much to the astonishment of the passive prince. "Come, now, the
+Invisibles await you," said one of the masked. The prince stepped
+courageously into the little corridor which led to the secret stairway,
+one brother preceding him, causing a soft light to illumine their path,
+the other following him.
+
+In silence they reached the side-door of the palace, where a close
+carriage awaited them.
+
+"Where are you taking me?" asked Frederick William, as he entered,
+followed by the two brothers.
+
+"To the Invisibles," answered a strange voice.
+
+Again the prince essayed to begin a conversation, his only response
+being, "Purify your heart and pray." Silently they galloped over paved
+and unpaved streets, the prince heartily repenting having been drawn
+into this adventure. He thought of his charming and beloved Wilhelmine,
+and half determined to give the command to drive to Charlottenburg. The
+fact of Bischofswerder being with him, and fearful of appearing weak
+and wanting in courage in the eyes of his friend and favorite, prevented
+him.
+
+After several hours' drive, they stopped at the marble palace of
+Potsdam, near the one which the prince was accustomed to occupy. His
+highness looked cautiously around, and breathed more freely, as he felt
+that he was now surely among friends.
+
+The white palace stood silent and deserted in the darkness, this palace
+at Potsdam being only used for the guests of the king. The carriage
+stopped at the side-door, where there was no sentinel, and they
+alighted, entering the palace, winding along the corridors in the same
+order as before, guided by the glimmering light of the one preceding.
+Solemn music, strange ringing sounds, fell upon the ear as they
+advanced. Sometimes they were sharp and cutting as glass, then
+threatening and penetrating as the wind, shrieking and moaning, causing
+one to be very nervous if not terrified.
+
+The farther they proceeded the louder grew the sounds, and at intervals
+groans, moans and wailings were heard, as of those waiting and imploring
+for mercy.
+
+One of the brothers now opened a door, and then placing themselves
+upon each side, the unknown voice announced to the prince that they had
+arrived at the long-sought-for goal.
+
+"What have we come here for?" asked the prince.
+
+"To behold that which you have many times petitioned to be permitted to
+see," replied Bischofswerder, gently encouraging and inspiring Frederick
+William. "The Invisibles have at last yielded to your wishes, and the
+spirits which you summon will appear. If your courage fails you, and you
+dread the presence of the departed, command to be reconducted to your
+palace, and we will obey; but renounce forever the sublime happiness
+of beholding the Invisibles and of holding communion with the
+spirit-world!"
+
+"I fear not, but wish to be in the company of the spirits," answered the
+prince, proudly.
+
+"Kneel," they commanded, permitting him to enter, "and thrice summon
+in a loud voice the names of three departed, who will answer your
+questions. Beware of approaching them, for their glance is death and
+their breath destruction! Therefore remain kneeling, as it becomes a
+mortal in the presence of an immortal. Hope and pray, brother!"
+
+As the door closed upon the prince, and he found himself in such
+impenetrable darkness, he sank upon his knees, for he dared not advance,
+and retreat was impossible, in spite of heart-quakings.
+
+The shrill, penetrating music ceased, and a voice from a distance
+called: "Summon thrice those that thou desirest to see."
+
+"Marcus Aurelius, Leibnitz, and the distinguished elector," called the
+prince in a loud voice.
+
+"Who summoned me?" was responded in hollow, sepulchral tones, and
+directly over the crown prince a blue, vaporous light was visible--at
+first only a cloud, then by degrees increasing and condensing itself
+into a human shape, until it took the form of a Roman warrior of the
+olden time; no other than Marcus Aurelius, in helmet and coat-of-mail,
+with a pale, earth-colored face and glaring eyes.
+
+"Who summoned me?" repeated the figure. The prince's lips refused to
+respond, and shuddering he gazed upon the corpse-like face, so exact in
+feature to the old Roman emperor.
+
+"You answer me not!" thundered the voice, "but I will tell you who you
+are--one lost in sin and an apostate!--the crown prince of Prussia,
+a future king, who will be called to govern a people, and knows not
+self-government! Turn from the path of vice while it is yet time; rise
+from the dust, that the ashes of retribution do not bury you in a living
+tomb, like the sinful Pompeians. No monument marks the place of
+the sinful; he sinks into the night of oblivion, or he is cursed by
+succeeding generations. Therefore turn from the errors of sin. Rise to
+virtue, that the blessed may approach you. I shudder in your presence.
+Woe to you! woe! woe!"
+
+The cloud-portrait vanished, and darkness reigned for a moment. The
+prince cried in anguish: "I will hear no more; this air oppresses
+me--open the door--I renounce communion with the spirits; I will go
+out!"
+
+The light reappeared in the dark room and another form hovered over the
+prince--of grave, obscure face, with a great peruke, staring at him. He
+recognized the distinguished philosopher Leibnitz, whom he had desired
+to see, but who now filled him with unspeakable terror. Like the
+former spirit, he also, when unanswered, reproached the erring prince,
+conjuring him to return to virtue.
+
+As the menacing ghost disappeared, the prince felt for the door, and
+shook it with the power which terror lends, crying, "Open, open!"
+It opened not, and the third summoned, the great elector, Frederick
+William, appeared, with high, up-lifted arm, glittering eyes, advancing
+with angry mien, shaking his lion's mane against the erring son of his
+house, whom he menaced with curses and revenge, if he did not renounce
+the courtesan who had seduced him to vice and unchastity.
+
+"I will become better," groaned the prince. "I will perform the wish of
+the spirits. Only have mercy on me--free me. Help! help! Open the door,
+Bischofswerder, I will do better. Open the door!"
+
+This time it really opened, and a long train of dark, masked forms
+entered the dusky room surrounding the prince, wringing their hands,
+imploring him to turn from sin, and forsake the unholy woman.
+
+They whimpered, they implored, sinking upon their knees, beating their
+clinched hands, and weeping: "Turn, beloved elect! Renounce Wilhelmine
+Enke; renounce vice! Repulse the seductress, and turn your countenance
+to Virtue which you have seen in all her beauty!"
+
+"I will perform that which you demand," wept the prince, as the deathly
+terror and nervous excitement made him yielding.
+
+"Swear!" cried the chorus of masks.
+
+"I swear that Wilhelmine Enke shall no longer be my mistress. I swear by
+all that is holy that I will renounce her! I--"
+
+Voice failed him; there was a ringing and buzzing in his ears; every
+thing swam before his eyes, and he sank fainting. The prince awoke after
+long unconsciousness, and found himself upon his bed in the new palace
+at Potsdam, Bischofswerder at his side, watching him with the tenderest
+sympathy. He bent over him and pressed his hand to his lips with a
+cry of delight. "Heaven be praised; my dear prince, you have awaked to
+commence a new life! You now belong to the virtuous and honorable, whom
+the Invisible Fathers bless!"
+
+"Is it true, Bischofswerder," said the prince, languidly, "that I have
+sworn to renounce Wilhelmine Enke, and never to love her more?"
+
+"You have sworn it by all that is holy, and all in heaven and on earth
+have heard your oath, and there is joy thereat."
+
+The prince turned his head, that Bischofswerder might not see the tears
+streaming down his cheeks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII. THE RETURN HOME.
+
+
+The beautiful house which Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen possessed upon the
+finest street in Berlin, "Unter den Linden," had been newly arranged and
+splendidly ornamented since his marriage and elevation to a title, and
+now awaited his arrival. For many weeks mechanics and artists had
+been busily employed; and the good housekeeper, old Trude, saw with
+bewildering astonishment the daily increasing splendor of gilded
+furniture, costly mirrors and chandeliers, soft carpets, tapestries, and
+gold-embroidered curtains, exquisite paintings and statuary, which
+the possessor had forwarded from Italy, and many other objects of art
+standing upon gilt and marble tables.
+
+Every thing was completed. The bustle of the busy workmen had ceased,
+and Trude slowly wandered through the solitary rooms, examining every
+article. Her face bespoke dissatisfaction, and a smile of contempt was
+visible there.
+
+"Miserable trash, for which they have sold my poor child!" murmured the
+old woman. "For these worthless, glittering toys have they ruined the
+happiness of the dear innocent heart, and on them the guilt will fall if
+her soul is lost! I remark how she is changed in her letters since her
+shameful, mercenary marriage. She writes of nothing but the arrangement
+of her house, and speaks as if the beauty and costliness of things were
+only to be thought of, and there is not even a confidential, heart-felt
+word for her old Trude. It would seem as if she had forgotten all former
+objects of interest. Oh, what trouble and sorrows the rich have! That
+good-for-nothing money hardens their hearts and makes them evil and
+selfish."
+
+The loud ringing of a bell sounded through the solitary drawing-rooms.
+
+"That is, undoubtedly, the general's wife," said Trude, shaking her
+head. "She rings as if she would announce the king, with her nose turned
+up so high, or as if she were the money-sacks of her son-in-law!"
+
+Trude was right; her shrill voice was heard ordering the steward, who
+had but just arrived. "It is abominable, it is unheard of!" she cried,
+as with a heavy push she burst open the door; "this man presumes to
+contradict me, and--ah, there you are, Trude!"
+
+"Here I am," she answered; "were you looking for me?"
+
+"Yes, and I would ask you if my orders are not the same as if given by
+Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen or his wife, or have you instructed the new
+steward otherwise, which, it is laughable to say, you have engaged?"
+
+"No, I have not instructed him thus. Dear Marie has not ordered it in
+her letter."
+
+"Dear Marie," repeated Frau von Werrig. "How can you permit yourself to
+speak so intimately of the rich Baroness von Ebenstreit?"
+
+"Very true, it is not right," sighed Trude; "I beg pardon."
+
+"I came here to see if every thing was in readiness, and ordered the
+steward to ornament the doors and corridors with garlands of flowers; he
+has had the boldness to tell me he dares not do it!"
+
+"He is right, Frau von Leuthen. Baroness Ebenstreit von Leuthen (have I
+got the title right?) wrote and expressly forbade any festivity to greet
+her arrival. Here is the letter--I carry it around with me; I will read
+it to you: 'I expressly forbid any manifestation whatever to be made at
+our return, whether of garlands or flowers, as they are only hypocrisy
+and falsehood. I wish no one there to receive me--remember, Trude, no
+one! Inform my family that, as soon as I have recovered from the fatigue
+of the journey, I will make them the visit of duty with the baron.'"
+
+"What cold, heartless words are these! One could hardly believe that a
+daughter was writing of her parents."
+
+"On her wedding-day she perhaps forgot that she had any," said Trude,
+shrugging her shoulders, "and she should not be at once reminded of that
+trying occasion on her return. I expect her every moment, as the courier
+has already arrived an hour ago, and it would be better--"
+
+"You cannot be so impudent as to tell me to leave? Indeed, I will not be
+prevented from waiting to receive my only child that I have not seen for
+three years. One can well believe that a mother would be impatient to
+embrace her dear daughter! I have no other happiness but my beloved
+child, and I long, unspeakably, to press her to my heart and tell her my
+sorrow."
+
+"Sorrow! is it possible that Frau von Werrig has any griefs? I supposed
+there was nothing in the world troubled her."
+
+"And yet I am very much tormented. I can well tell you, Trude, as you
+are familiar with our circumstances," sighed the countess. "You know the
+general is tolerably well; the journeys to Wiesbaden and Teplitz have
+cured him of the gout unfortunately, so that he can go about."
+
+"Are you sorry for that, Frau von Werrig?"
+
+"Certainly I am, Trude, as he has returned to his former habits,
+frequenting the society of drinking-houses and gamblers. Imagine the
+general played yesterday, lost all his ready money, and that was not
+enough, but signed away the year's pension from Herr von Ebenstreit,
+during which time we have nothing but the miserable army annuity to live
+upon."
+
+"Then your income will be less to live upon than formerly, for dear
+Marie earned something with her flowers and lessons which she gave to
+you, although she was never thanked for it. She was then my dear
+good Marie, so industrious and patient, and worked untiringly for her
+parents! Then she forgot them not, and toiled early and late, and, oh,
+it breaks my heart to think of it, and I must cry in your presence!"
+
+She raised the corner of her dark-blue apron and dried her eyes, holding
+it there as she continued to weep.
+
+"What an ugly apron!" cried the countess, "and how meanly you are
+dressed altogether! Is that the way you intend to go looking as the
+housekeeper of a rich and genteel family? Go, Trude, quickly, and put
+something better on, that you may receive your master and mistress in a
+suitable dress."
+
+"I shall remain as I am, for I am very properly dressed. It may not
+be suitable for a housekeeper, but it becomes old Trude, and it is my
+Sunday frock, which I always wore when I was maid-of-all-work to you.
+You may not remember it, but dear Marie (I should say Baroness von
+Ebenstreit) will, perhaps, and it may recall her little room in the
+garret, and then--"
+
+"And then she will at last think, Trude, how we took care of her, and
+how thankful she ought to be to her parents that they married her to a
+rich man. If Marie sees it at last--"
+
+"You forget with whom you speak, Frau von Werrig," Trude interrupted
+her, scornfully, "and that it does not become you to speak of Marie to
+old Trude, but you should remember her title."
+
+"Well, then, when Baroness von Ebenstreit enters this costly house, she
+must understand that her mother was mindful of her best interests, and
+that she owes all this to her; and you, Trude, must remind her of it,
+and tell her about my dreadful trial with her father, and that it is my
+daughter's duty to release me from it, and beg her husband not to deduct
+the gambling-debt from the pension, but pay it this once. For it would
+be a dreadful injustice to make me suffer for the general's rage for
+play, and show but little gratitude for the riches which I brought her.
+You will tell my daughter all this, Trude, and--"
+
+"I will not tell her any thing at all, Frau von Werrig," interrupted.
+Trude, warmly. "May my good genius keep me from that, and burdening
+my conscience with such falsehoods.--Hark! A carriage is coming, and a
+post-horn sounded. They have arrived!"
+
+Old Trude hurried out just as they drove up to the door. The steward and
+two servants in livery rushed down the steps to assist them to alight,
+and Trude also to greet her favorite, who was now so pale, grave, and
+chilling in her appearance.
+
+The large eyes of the lady rested with cold indifference upon the old
+woman, whose eyes were turned to her with the tenderest expression. "I
+thank you," she said, coldly. "Husband! I beg you to give me your arm."
+Proudly she passed the statuary, and over the soft carpets without
+comment, or even a word for old Trude.
+
+The steward and housekeeper followed the silent couple.
+
+"Shall I take you to your room first?" asked Ebenstreit, "or will you do
+me the pleasure to look at the newly-arranged drawing-rooms?"
+
+"Certainly," she replied, with indifference. "We will first look at the
+drawing-rooms, as we shall probably receive much company this winter,
+and they are of the first importance. You know that I dislike solitude."
+
+"Indeed, I recall that we are very seldom alone!" sighed her husband.
+
+"It would be fearful if we were," replied his wife, with marked
+indifference.
+
+The steward just now opened the little door of the ante-room, sparkling
+with chandeliers and mirrors. "Ah! this is really beautiful, and well
+chosen," cried Ebenstreit, looking about with an air of great pride and
+satisfaction. "Tell me, Marie, is it not worthy of you?"
+
+Glancing coldly around, she replied: "It does not please at all. The
+furniture is very costly, and reminds one of the parvenu. Every thing
+recalls the riches of the newly-titled banker."
+
+Her husband's brow contracted, but he did not trust himself to contest
+his dissatisfaction with his cold, proud wife, but sought another vent
+for it.
+
+"You are very unkind, Marie. Have the goodness to tell me how you, with
+these severe ideas, can suffer that Trude for a moment should appear
+before us in this poor-looking dress which, indeed, does not recall any
+wealth!"
+
+Frau von Ebenstreit's eyes glanced quickly over the old who, she
+said, was the only object which did not bespeak the gaudiness of
+newly-acquired wealth, but she appeared as the respectable servant of an
+old and noble family in fitting dress. "Remain as you are, Trude, and do
+not let yourself be misled by our follies! I--but what is that I see?"
+she cried as the steward opened the next door at the silent nod of her
+husband.
+
+"Oh, my beloved children, there you are at last; after three years'
+absence I have the happiness to embrace you, my only daughter," cried
+Frau von Werrig, as she approached them with outstretched arms and an
+affectionate smile, essaying to throw her arms around Marie's neck, who
+waved her back.
+
+"My child, my child," whimpered the mother, "is it possible that my
+daughter can receive me thus after so long a separation?"
+
+Turning to Trude, Marie asked her, with a reproving look and tone,
+if she had received her letter, or if she had forgotten her express
+commands that no one but the servants should be in the house to receive
+them.
+
+"I did not forget it, my lady, and I have read the orders to Frau von
+Werrig, but she--"
+
+"Knew that this wish had no reference to her, as she is her mother--Tell
+me, my beloved son, is it not very natural and fitting that I should be
+here to receive you?'
+
+"I find it a matter of course," answered Von Ebenstreit, to whom it
+appeared a relief to find an ally in the mother against his proud and
+beautiful wife. "I rejoice to see our dear mother here, and I beg Marie
+will join me."
+
+Marie cast an angry glance toward her husband, which so confused
+and perplexed him, that he looked down. Then advancing toward the
+drawing-room, with her usual cold demeanor, without further comment upon
+the ostentatious furniture, she commanded her husband to follow, who
+obeyed, giving his arm to his mother-in-law.
+
+"Oh, this is glorious!" he cried, smiling. "What splendor, what luxury!
+Tell me, my dear mother, is not this beautiful reception-room very
+aristocratically and appropriately fitted up?"
+
+"I should think a princess or a queen might be satisfied with it," she
+cried, with enthusiasm. "Even in royal palaces there is nothing of the
+kind to compare to this gold-embroidered tapestry."
+
+"Baron," said Marie, commandingly, "have the kindness to dismiss the
+steward. I wish to speak with you and Frau von Werrig."
+
+The steward slipped out without waiting to be sent, and Trude stood
+near the door, turning to the young baroness, as if to ask if she might
+remain.
+
+"Did you not hear, Trude?" cried the mother, impatiently. "Tell her to
+go!"
+
+"Remain, Trude," said Marie, quietly. "You are familiar with the past. I
+have nothing to deny to you; shut the door and stay here.--And now,"
+she continued, as her voice lost its gentleness, when she addressed
+her mother, "if it is agreeable to you, I should like to have an
+understanding with you!"
+
+"But, my child," sighed the mother, "how strangely altered you are! You
+address me, your mother, as Frau von Werrig, and you speak to Ebenstreit
+in a very formal manner, who has been your dear, faithful husband for
+three years. Oh, my darling son, what does this ceremonious manner
+mean?"
+
+"The very first hour, after our marriage, that we were alone my dear
+Marie severely reproved me for having addressed her in an intimate,
+affectionate manner, like the common class, as she called it, and I have
+never done so since."
+
+"You must be convinced that I am right," said Marie, calmly, "and that
+it does not become two beings, who neither love nor esteem each other,
+and who live in the most ceremonious manner, to address one another with
+endearing epithets. At any rate we are not accountable to any one, and
+Frau von Leuthen must know the relations we bear to each other in the
+so-called marriage, as it is her arrangement for the most part."
+
+"And I pride myself upon it," she cried, with animation. "I have brought
+about this marriage, which is good fortune to us, and I hope my daughter
+will prove her gratitude, and my son will show me the affection he has
+so often sworn to me."
+
+"I do not know what my husband may have sworn to you, but permit me to
+say, I do not understand whom you, Frau von Werrig, address as daughter
+here; if you accidentally refer to me, you are in error; I have never
+possessed a mother to love me, although formerly, during long years I
+endeavored with tender assiduity to win a parent's heart. That is
+long past, however. The very day that I married Herr von Ebenstreit I
+renounced all family ties, and resolved to be self-reliant. My husband
+will witness that he has never known me to yield, and that I have always
+been firm and resolute in my decision."
+
+"No one would doubt it," replied Ebenstreit, timidly. "We had a very
+strange marriage, which scarce deserves the name. We resemble more two
+companions who have joined in business, the one side reluctantly, and
+the other joyfully. I long for a happy married life, which has been
+quite impossible thus far."
+
+"And will be to the end, which you will yet learn; and Fran von Werrig
+should understand it, as she brought about the union, and should not be
+in doubt as to the conclusion."
+
+"I acknowledge that I am almost speechless and quite paralyzed with that
+which I see and hear. I should doubt that this cold, proud woman before
+me were my daughter, if it were not for the name she bears, and her
+features."
+
+"That which you and my husband have caused me to become. He knew that
+I neither loved nor esteemed him, and that a union with him seemed so
+unendurable that I would have sought refuge in death, if I had not vowed
+to support life to attain the aim which I imposed upon myself. That is
+all past; it is the future which we must arrange. I am glad that you are
+here, Frau von Werrig, that we may understand each other once for all;
+but you came against my wishes."
+
+"You must excuse it, dear Marie. It was the longing of mother's heart
+which led me hither; the love--"
+
+A cold, contemptuous glance of the large eyes caused the mother to
+cease, and quail before her daughter.
+
+After a short pause Marie continued: "I wish to exercise alone and
+unhindered the executive rights of a lady in her own house. Do you
+acknowledge the justice of this, my husband?"
+
+"Perfectly and unconditionally, dear Marie. You know that I have no
+other will but yours, which is my highest happiness to submit myself
+to in all things, always hoping to gain your love and win your heart;
+that--"
+
+"That this woman has changed to stone," said Marie, coldly, pointing to
+her mother. "As you then recognize me as the mistress of this house, I
+shall avail myself of my just right, and no one can prevent me, for I
+stand alone, absolved from all family ties. By my birth and your riches,
+I shall occupy the position of a woman of the world, and as such I shall
+live."
+
+"I am delighted to hear it, Marie," cried her husband. "For this reason
+I have had the drawing-rooms furnished in the most costly manner, and
+I shall be proud to receive the aristocratic society who will come to
+render homage to my wife, as they have done everywhere in Paris, London,
+Rome, Madrid, and St. Petersburg. We have frequented the highest circle
+in all these cities, and they have crowded our drawing-rooms, charmed
+with the beauty, distinguished manners, tone of the world, of your
+daughter."
+
+"I beg of you to make but one subject the sole object of conversation,"
+said Marie, harshly. "I have said that I will avail myself of the
+privilege, as mistress of this house, of receiving no one whom I do
+not wish to see, and no one can enter without consent. Is it clearly
+understood, husband?"
+
+"Yes," he answered, somewhat agitated; "it is the right of every
+housekeeper--I understand you."
+
+"It is also clear to me," cried Frau von Werrig, with difficulty
+suppressing her wrath. "But I will await the decisive word, and see
+whether it is possible for a daughter to have the insolent presumption
+to drive he mother from her house!"
+
+"I have already informed you that I have no mother, and that no one has
+the right to call me daughter. If you await my decision, you shall now
+hear it; you are not included among those that I wish to receive in my
+house!"
+
+"Ah, dear Marie, you are cruel!" cried her husband, quite frightened.
+
+"She is a degenerate, good-for-nothing creature!" cried the mother.
+
+"If I am so, who has caused it but you, both of you? Who broke my heart,
+and crushed it under foot until it ceased to feel, and turned to stone?
+Bear the consequences of your cruelty and heartlessness! I cannot change
+it, and I repeat, Frau von Werrig has not the right to enter this house,
+or to remain here any longer!"
+
+Scalding tears fell from the mother's eyes as she shrieked, "She drives
+me from her house!"
+
+"I am only treating you as you behaved to one of the noblest and best
+of men," replied Marie, voice and look betraying her deep feeling. "You
+thrust from your door, with scorn and contempt, a man worthy of your
+esteem and recognition, although you knew that my heart was breaking.
+I am only following your example and exercising my just rights, and am
+less guilty than you are, as neither of us has need of the respect or
+esteem of the other."
+
+"Can you suffer this, my son? Do you allow any one in your presence
+to treat me so shamefully? After all, it is your house; do speak and
+exercise your right as master here: tell your wife that I am her mother,
+and you, my adopted son, who bears my name, and that I have the just
+right to come here as often as it pleases me."
+
+"Speak your mind to Frau von Werrig," said Marie, as Ebenstreit remained
+silent. "Decide which shall remain, as one or the other of us must
+leave; you are perfectly free to choose."
+
+"Then, naturally, there is no choice left me," replied Ebenstreit,
+despondingly. "I declare myself for my wife, of course, who is the
+noblest and proudest beauty in Berlin, and will make my house the centre
+of attraction to the aristocracy, nobility, and wealth. This is my
+greatest pride, and to secure this I wooed my beautiful bride, and have
+submitted to all the sorrow and humiliation which have been my portion.
+If I must choose between the mother and daughter, I naturally prefer the
+latter."
+
+"He abandons me also!" cried the mother. "You are an ungrateful,
+wretched man! You forget that you owe every thing to me, and that
+without me you were a miserable mercenary, whose stupidity and
+tediousness were the ridicule of every one, and you had never gained the
+entrance to a genteel house. What have you now become? A high-born man,
+whose house every one will crowd, and who could even appear at court, as
+he bears our noble and distinguished name. To whom do you owe all this,
+but to me alone?"
+
+"God in heaven, Thou hearest it!" cried Marie, solemnly, with uplifted
+arms. "She acknowledges that she alone has brought this misfortune upon
+me, and in this hour I stand justified."
+
+"Pardon, Frau von Werrig," said Ebenstreit, haughtily; "you are going
+too far. After my fortune, I thank you for my position. I am certainly
+of insignificant birth, but I am ambitious and rich. I said to myself,
+'Money can bring about all that I wish,' and you see it has accomplished
+it. My wealth procured me a title, a splendid house, a beautiful wife,
+and a position in society. I acknowledge that you aided me in the
+carrying out of my plans, but you would not have done it, if I had not
+been in a position to pay you. You receive a very considerable annuity
+from me, therefore you cannot accuse me of ingratitude, but must confess
+that you have driven a very good bargain. You must forgive me if I beg
+of you to end this painful scene."
+
+"That means that I must leave," said Frau von Werrig, mildly,
+remembering the gambling debt and the annuity. "Very well, I will go,
+and promise you never to return, upon two conditions."
+
+"Have the goodness to communicate them," said Ebenstreit.
+
+"The first is, pay the gambling-debt of my husband, who has played
+away the entire sum you allow us yearly, and do not deduct it from our
+income. The second is, increase your allowance five hundred thalers,
+without letting the general know it, and pay it to me."
+
+"It is impossible," cried Ebenstreit, terrified. "You mistake me for a
+Croesus, whose wealth is inexhaustible. If this expenditure and demand
+increase, my colossal fortune will be entirely wasted, and--"
+
+"You exaggerate," interrupted Marie, with a peculiar brilliancy in her
+eyes. "Such wealth as yours is never-ending, and the banking business,
+which you are still engaged in under another name, is an inexhaustible
+source of wealth. I beg you to accept these conditions, that we may at
+last be at peace."
+
+"Very well," said Ebenstreit, to whom the words of Marie sounded as the
+sweetest music. "I will then accord your wishes, and you shall have the
+five hundred thalers for yourself."
+
+"For me alone?"
+
+"Yes, for yourself alone, Frau von Werrig."
+
+"Who vouches for the fulfilment of your promise?"
+
+"My word, Frau von Werrig."
+
+"I have no confidence but in a written promise."
+
+"Then I will have it made out, and bring you the document to-morrow
+morning."
+
+"Then our business is finished, and I can go.--Farewell, baroness;
+this is my last word to you. I cursed you from the moment you came into
+being. If you had been a son, the rich estate in trust of my family
+would have passed to you, of which I was the natural heir. As it was,
+it went to a distant relative, and we received nothing. Therefore your
+parents could not rejoice at your birth, and we only pardoned you
+when you married a rich man, who could free us from want, and now
+the separation is no grief to us. You have always been a disagreeable
+burden, and I am only quit of a discomfort, and renounce forever the
+sight of you.--Give me your arm, my son, and accompany me at least
+to the threshold of your house, that you may be able to say to this
+cold-hearted viper, that she is forever rid of the sight of her mother,
+who will never think of her but with chilling contempt." She seized
+Ebenstreit by the arm, who had not the courage to resist her, and drew
+him along with her, casting a look of supreme disgust at old Trude, who
+stood pale and sad near the door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV. BEHIND THE MASK.
+
+
+As the door closed, and Marie found herself alone with her old friend
+and nurse, a peculiar change was visible in her sad face; something of
+its former sunny radiance brightened its usually sorrowful expression,
+and she turned to greet Trude with the smile of earlier, happier days,
+though it was tinged with sadness and grief. Impulsively she threw her
+arms around her faithful nurse, kissing her, and, with quivering lip,
+whispering: "A greeting and a blessing for you, dear mother! Take me to
+your kind, disinterested heart, and let me there find repose from all
+this torture and love the poor lost one, who--"
+
+She drew suddenly back, her face assuming its usually cold, look as she
+heard her husband enter.
+
+"She is gone, dear Marie. I hope that you are gratified with my
+decision, and perceive therein a proof of my excessive love and esteem
+for you," said Ebenstreit, drawing a long breath.
+
+"I did not desire this polite evidence of it," she coldly responded. "We
+have solemnized our entrance into this house in a fitting manner, and
+the important matter remaining for us is to make known our arrival to
+the society of Berlin. The horses purchased in Alexandria, and the new
+carriage from London, have already arrived--have they not?"
+
+"My book-keeper so informed me a fortnight since, when we were in Paris,
+and complained of the enormous sum which he had to disburse."
+
+"You must forbid him such a liberty once for all," said she, and the
+strange blending of joy and scorn was visible in her face. "It is
+inadmissible for a subordinate to presume to complain to his master, or
+advise him. He has only to listen and obey. This all your inferiors must
+understand, and know that they will be dismissed who murmur or advise!"
+
+"I will instruct them accordingly," he sighed, "though I must confess
+my head-man well understands financial operations, and during the many
+years that he has been with me has won the right to be consulted and
+advised with."
+
+"Then prove your gratitude as it becomes a true cavalier and a
+nobleman," dictated Marie. "Settle his salary as an annuity upon him,
+and replace him."
+
+"But he receives very great wages, and is still very active, though
+advanced."
+
+"The more the reason to pension him, that he may repose his remaining
+years and enjoy the fruit of his labors. But do as you like. I have only
+told you how a noble cavalier would act; if you choose to bargain and
+haggle, it is your own affair."
+
+"Heaven keep me from acting otherwise than as a nobleman!" cried
+Ebenstreit.
+
+Marie nodded assent, desiring that the carriage might be ordered, with
+the Arab horses. "We will make our visits at once, as I will, for the
+first time, open our large house for a soiree to-morrow evening," she
+added.
+
+"Ah, that is charming!" said Ebenstreit, delighted. "I shall at last
+have the opportunity of seeing the aristocratic Berlin society, and
+enter upon the rank of my new title."
+
+"Yes," she replied, with an expression of irrepressible scorn, "you will
+have this enjoyment. Send me the steward, I wish to give him a list of
+the invited guests. You can add to it at your pleasure."
+
+"I have no one to invite," cried her husband.
+
+"No matter! Make the necessary preparations. I will go to my room to
+make my toilet."
+
+"Will you not allow me to accompany you? You are not yet familiar with
+the house."
+
+"Trude will show it to me, and you can at the same time give the
+orders."
+
+Nodding proudly to Ebenstreit, she told Trude to precede her, following
+the old woman through the suite of brilliant rooms.
+
+"Here is my lady's dressing-room," said Trude, entering one ornamented
+with mirrors, laces, and gauzes.
+
+The French waiting-maid was busy within, unpacking the large trunks
+filled with silk and satin dresses which had been purchased by the
+dozens in Paris.
+
+"Lay out an elegant visiting toilet; I will return directly, after Trude
+has shown me the house," They entered the adjoining chamber, Marie's
+sleeping-room and found the German maid arranging the lace and silk
+coverings for her mistress to repose herself after the long journey.
+Marie betrayed no inclination for repose, but questioned Trude as to
+whither the other door led to.
+
+"Into the little corridor, baroness."
+
+"Did I not order that there should be but one entrance to my
+sleeping-room, and that from the dressing-room?"
+
+"Your commands have been strictly obeyed," replied Trude. "The only door
+from the corridor leads to my two rooms, and there is but one entrance
+to them upon the other side, which can be securely fastened."
+
+Into the simple, quiet room, at the baroness's request, Trude opened the
+door, saying, "Here we can be alone."
+
+Marie pointed silently to the second door, and the old woman nodded:
+"That is it," said she. "I have done every thing as you directed. After
+you left, they sent me the furniture of your little garret-room, which I
+have arranged exactly as it stood there."
+
+As Marie opened the door and found herself in the small room, so like
+the one where she had made flowers, given lessons, consoled by her only
+friend, Trude, her pride and reserve vanished. Sinking upon her knees,
+as if crushed, she gave way to her long-pent-up grief in one cry of
+anguish, clinging to Trude, and weeping bitterly.
+
+"Here I am, my faithful nurse, returned to you more wretched and
+miserable than when I left: then, I felt that I could scorn the world,
+and now I despise myself. Oh, Trude, they have caused my wretchedness,
+they have made me selfish and unkind. I was contented until now, and
+rejoiced in my misery, and triumphantly thought of the time when I was
+wont to bewail my broken heart and lost soul. Once more with you, and
+surrounded with the souvenirs of my girlhood, I feel a horror of myself,
+and could sink in shame and contrition. I have become as bad as they
+are. Can you forgive the hard-hearted daughter who banished her own
+mother from her house? I felt that I could not endure her presence, and
+feared that an inveterate rancor and hate would overpower me, and that I
+should curse her."
+
+"She deserves it, my poor child," whispered Trude, the tears streaming
+down her cheeks. "She has just told you that she never loved you, and in
+this painful scene she thought only of bargaining and making money. God
+has heard her and forgiven you as I do, and I beg and implore Him to
+punish those who have made you so wretched, and that He will have no
+mercy upon them, as they have shown none to you. It breaks my heart to
+see you so changed, and I can hardly believe this cold, haughty lady is
+my Marie. In your tears I recognize you, and I bless God that you can
+weep; your grief proves to me that you are yet the child of my heart."
+
+"Oh Trude, you know not how I have longed to see you; it was my only
+consolation in these painful years. When I doubted every human being,
+then I thought of you, and was comforted and sustained."
+
+"And was there no one else to think of, my child?"
+
+"Yes," she gently murmured, "I thought of him. Tell me all you know
+about him, and hide nothing from me in this hour."
+
+"I thought you would ask me, and I went to Director Gedicke yesterday,
+to inform myself."
+
+"What did you hear? Tell me the most important. Does he live? Is he
+restored to health?"
+
+"He lives, but, for one year, he was so wretched that he could
+not teach; now he is better. Herr Gedicke went himself to Spandau,
+immediately after the wedding, and brought him back with him, relating
+as forbearingly and carefully as possible the circumstances of your
+marriage, and of your sacrificing yourself for him alone."
+
+"How did he receive it? What did he say?"
+
+"Nothing. His eyes were fixed, and his lips uttered not a sound. This
+lasted for weeks, and suddenly he became excited, enraged, and they were
+obliged to bind him to keep him from injuring himself."
+
+"Tell me no more," cried Marie, shuddering. "I thought myself stronger,
+nay, heartless, and yet it seems as if a hand of iron were tearing,
+rending my soul!"
+
+"That is well," said Trude, gently; "you must awaken from this hardened
+indifference; giving way to your grief in tears will soften your heart,
+and it will again be penetrated with the love of God and mankind. I will
+tell you every thing; you ought to know how poor, dear Moritz suffered.
+After he vented his rage he became melancholy, and withdrew to Halle in
+solitude, living in a hay-loft. His favorite books and an old piano
+were his only companions; no one presumed to intrude him, and they even
+conveyed his food secretly to him, shoving it through a door. He talked
+aloud to himself for hours long, and at night sang so touchingly,
+accompanying himself upon the piano, that those who listened wept."
+
+Marie wept also--scalding tears trickled through her fingers as she lay
+upon the floor.
+
+Trude continued: "Moritz lived in this way one year; his friends knew
+how he was suffering, and they proved in their deeds how much they loved
+and esteemed him. The teachers at the Gymnasium divided his hours of
+instruction among them, that he should not forfeit his place and lose
+his salary. Even the king showed great sympathy for him, sending to
+inquire for him. Herr Gedicke visited him frequently at Halle; and once
+when about to mount the ladder to the hay-loft he met Moritz descending,
+carefully dressed, in a reasonable, gentle mood, and then he returned
+with him to Berlin. There was great rejoicing in the college over his
+return, and they feted him, witnessing so much love for him that it was
+really touching. He has been promoted to professor, and at the express
+command of the king he teaches the young Prince Frederick William in
+Latin and Greek. Oh, he is so much esteemed and--"
+
+"And is married I hope," murmured Marie. "Is he not happily married,
+Trude?"
+
+"No. Herr Gedicke says he could marry a wealthy girl, for he is a great
+favorite, and is invited into the most distinguished society. He repels
+every one, and has become a woman-hater."
+
+"He hates them--does that mean that he hates me?"
+
+"Yes, he thoroughly scorns and despises you; so much so that Herr
+Gedicke says you should know of it, and keep out of his way. He has
+sworn to publicly show his contempt for you, and therefore his friends
+wish you to be apprised of it, and not encounter him in society."
+
+"It is well, I thank you," said Marie, rising; "I will act accordingly.
+Kiss me once more, my dear mother, and let me repose my weary head upon
+your bosom. Ah, Trude, what a sorrow life is!"
+
+"You will yet learn to love it again, Marie."
+
+"If I thought that I could sink so low, I would kill myself this very
+hour. I know myself better, and only for revenge do I live. Hush! say
+nothing more. Look at me! I am cursed, and there in those gaudy rooms in
+my purgatory; here is my paradise, and here the wicked demon may dare
+to change into the sad, wretched wife, who mourns the happy days already
+flown, and weeps the inconsolable future. Oft will I come here in the
+night when those sleep who think me so proud and happy, and you alone
+shall behold me as I am. Now I must back to purgatory.--Farewell!"
+
+A half hour later a splendid carriage drove from the house of Herr
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The people upon the street stood in wondering
+admiration of the beautiful Arab horses with the costly silver-mounted
+harness, and sought to catch a glimpse of the occupants of the carriage,
+an insignificant, meagre, blond-haired man, who appeared like a servant
+beside the lovely pale wife, though proud and indifferent, who kept her
+eyes fixed steadily before her.
+
+The chasseur, with his waving plumes, sat upon the box beside the
+rich-liveried coachman.
+
+As the married couple returned from their drive, having left their cards
+at the most distinguished houses in Berlin, the baroness handed the list
+of guests to be invited to the baron to examine. He glanced hastily over
+it, assuring her that every thing should be directed as she desired,
+deferring all to her superior knowledge. Suddenly he seemed confused,
+even frightened. "What is the matter? What were you about to remark?"
+asked Marie, indifferently.
+
+"I was in error. I have, without doubt, read it wrong. I beg pardon for
+a foolish blunder, but will you tell me this name?"
+
+Marie bent forward to look at the paper which her husband handed her,
+and, pointing with her finger, read "Professor Philip Moritz."
+
+"Do you intend to invite him?" asked Ebenstreit, quite alarmed.
+
+"Why should I not? He belongs to the circle of friends and
+acquaintances, and it is natural that I should include him. Moreover,
+there is not a little gossip, and it is necessary to silence it. If you
+are not of my opinion, strike out the name."
+
+"Not at all, dearest. On the contrary, you are perfectly right, and I
+admire you for it."
+
+"Then give the list to the butler, for it is quite time that the
+invitations were given out."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV. THE CURSE.
+
+
+The evening of the soiree had arrived. In quick succession drove the
+carriages up the broad entrance to the mansion of Herr Ebenstreit, The
+curious street public pressed in compact masses near the gate to peep
+in, or at least catch a fugitive glance of the ladies alighting from
+their carriages, who were received by the butler at the foot of the
+carpeted steps. A host of gold-bespangled footmen lined the entrance
+upon each side, which was ornamented with the most exquisite hot-house
+plants, filling the air with perfume.
+
+Two tall, stately footmen, with broad gold shoulder-bands and large
+gilt batons, stood at the door of the anteroom, which was brilliantly
+illuminated with chandeliers and side-lights, reflected in the numerous
+mirrors. The anteroom led into the reception-room by wide folding-doors,
+where the names were given to the usher, who announced them in a
+stentorian voice in the drawing-room. There stood the Baron von
+Ebenstreit to receive the guests, all smiles, and with bustling
+assiduity accompany them to the adjoining drawing-room to present them
+to the baroness.
+
+Among the select company were conspicuous the most distinguished
+names of the aristocracy. Generals and staff-officers, countesses and
+baronesses were crowded together, with the ladies of the financial
+world, near ministers and counsellors in this gorgeous saloon, which was
+the delight and admiration of the envious, and excited the tongues of
+the slanderous. Those acquainted gathered in the window-niches and
+cosy corners, maliciously criticising the motley crowd, and eminently
+consoled with the sure prospect of the ruin of the late banker,
+surrounding himself with such unbecoming splendor and luxury, the bad
+taste of his arrogant, overdressed, and extravagant wife.
+
+"Have you noticed her parure of diamonds?" whispered the Countess Moltke
+to Fran von Morien. "If they are real, then she wears an estate upon her
+shoulders."
+
+"The family estate of Von Leuthen," laughingly replied Frau von Morien.
+"You know, I suppose, that the father of General von Leuthen was a
+brick-burner, and he may have succeeded in changing a few bricks into
+diamonds."
+
+"You are wicked, sweet one," replied the countess, smiling. "One must
+acknowledge that her toilet is charming. I have never seen its equal.
+The gold lace over the rose-colored satin is superb."
+
+"Yes, and the mingling of straw feathers, diamonds, flowers, lace, and
+birds is truly ridiculous in her head-dress."
+
+"It must have been copied exactly from the one which the Queen Marie
+Antoinette wore at the ball at Versailles a fortnight since. The
+baroness was present at this court ball with her greyhound of a husband,
+and created quite a sensation with her costly recherchee toilet, as the
+French ambassador told us yesterday."
+
+"Certainly not by her manner," said Frau von Morien. "She is
+insupportably arrogant and self-sufficient. What do you think of this
+pretentious manner of announcing our names as if we were at an auction
+where they sold titles?"
+
+"It is a very good French custom," remarked the countess. "But it
+does not become a lady of doubtful nobility and uncertain position, to
+introduce foreign customs here. She should leave this to others, and
+modestly accept those already in use by us."
+
+"One remarks the puffed-up parvenue," whispered Frau von Morien. "Every
+thing smells of the varnish upon the newly-painted coat-of-arms."
+
+"Hush, my friend! I there comes the baroness leaning upon the arm of the
+French ambassador. She is indeed imposing in appearance, and one could
+mistake her for a queen."
+
+"Could any one ever suppose that this queen once made flowers to sell?
+Come, countess, I have just thought of a charming scene to revenge
+myself upon this arrogant personage."
+
+Giving her arm to the countess, she approached her hostess leaning upon
+the arm of the Marquis de Treves, the French ambassador, as they were
+standing beneath the immense chandelier of rock crystal, which sparkled
+above them like a crown of stars, causing her diamonds to look as if in
+one blaze of different hues.
+
+"Oh, permit us to sun ourselves in your rays, ma toute belle," said the
+Countess Moltke. "One could well fancy themselves in a fairy palace, so
+enchanting is everything here."
+
+"And the baroness's appearance confirms this impression," remarked the
+gallant Frenchman. "Fancy could not well paint a more lovely fairy in
+one's happiest dreams."
+
+"Yes, truly I wander around as if in an enchanted scene. I feel as if
+I must seize myself by the head and be well shaken, to convince myself
+that I am really awake and not dreaming a chapter from Aladdin. I made
+the effort, but felt the wreath of roses in my hair, and--"
+
+"And that convinced you of your wakefulness," said the baroness, a
+little haughtily. Turning to the ambassador, she added: "Do you observe,
+monsieur le marquis, what a delicate attention this lady shows me in
+wearing a wreath of flowers which I manufactured?"
+
+"Comment! The baroness is truly a fairy! She causes flowers to grow at
+her pleasure, and vies with Nature. It seems impossible. I can scarcely
+believe it."
+
+"And yet it is true," said Frau von Morien. "The baroness, indeed,
+fabricated these roses three years since, when she had the kindness to
+work for me. You will acknowledge that I have kept them well?"
+
+"It was no kindness of mine, but a necessity," said the baroness, "and I
+must confess that I would not have undertaken so troublesome a piece of
+work from pure goodness or pleasure. You will remember that I was very
+poor before my marriage, and as Frau von Morien was one of my customers,
+it is very natural that she possesses my flowers. She gave me many
+orders, and paid me a very small price, for she is very practical and
+prudent, and understands bargaining and cheapening, and when one is
+poor they are obliged to yield to the shameless parsimony of the rich.
+I thank you, my dear benefactress, for the honor you have shown me
+in wearing my flowers, for it has been a pleasant occasion to explain
+ourselves and recognize each other. Have the kindness to recall other
+remembrances of the past."
+
+"I do not remember possessing any other souvenirs," replied the
+countess, confused.
+
+"Have you forgotten that I gave French lessons to your niece, the present
+Frau von Hohenthal? She came to me three times weekly, because the
+lessons were a few groschen cheaper at the house."
+
+At this instant the usher announced in a loud voice, "Professor Philip
+Moritz."
+
+A gentleman of slight proportions, in an elegant fashionable dress,
+appeared and remained standing in the doorway, his large black eyes
+wandering searchingly through the drawing-room. Herr von Ebenstreit
+approached, extending him his hand, uttering a few unintelligible words,
+which his guest appeared not to notice, but, slightly inclining, asked
+if he would present him to the lady of the house.
+
+"Have the kindness to follow me," said Ebenstreit, leading Moritz
+through the circle of jesting, slandering ladies and gentlemen, to
+the centre of the room, where Marie was still standing with the French
+ambassador and the two ladies.
+
+"My dear," said her husband, "I have brought you an old acquaintance,
+Professor Moritz."
+
+As Ebenstreit would retreat, Moritz commanded him to remain, placing his
+white-gloved hand upon his arm, and holding him fast. "I would ask you
+one question before I speak with the baroness."
+
+Moritz spoke so loud, and in such a strange, harsh, and repulsive
+manner, that every one turned astonished, asking himself what it meant.
+Conversation was hushed, and the curious pressed toward the peculiar
+group in the centre to the baroness, who regarded her husband perfectly
+composed, and the pale man, with the flashing eyes, the glance of which
+pierced her like daggers.
+
+A breathless silence reigned, broken only by Ebenstreit's trembling
+voice. "What is it, professor? How can I serve you?"
+
+"Tell me who you are?" replied Moritz, with a gruff laugh.
+
+"I am the Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen!"
+
+"And the scar which you bear upon your face, is it not the mark of a
+whip, with which I lashed a certain Herr Ebenstreit three years since,
+who prevented my eloping with my betrothed? I challenged him to fight a
+duel, but the coward refused me satisfaction, and then I struck him in
+the face, causing the blood to flow. Answer me--are you this gentleman?"
+
+Not a sound interrupted the fearfully long pause which followed. Every
+one turned astonished to Ebenstreit, who, pale as death, was powerless
+to utter a word, but stood staring at his opponent.
+
+"Why do you not answer me?" cried Moritz, stamping his foot. "Are you
+the coward? Was this red scar caused by the whip-lash?"
+
+Another long pause ensued, and a distinctly audible voice was heard,
+saying, "Yes, it is he!"
+
+"Who replied to me?" asked Moritz, turning his angry glance away from
+Ebenstreit.
+
+"I," said Marie. "I reply for my husband!"
+
+"You? Are you the wife of this man?" thundered Moritz.
+
+"I am," Marie answered.
+
+"Is this invitation directed to me from you?" he continued, drawing a
+paper from his pocket. "Did you permit yourself to invite me to your
+house?"
+
+"Yes, I did," she calmly answered.
+
+"And by what right, madame? This is the question I wish answered, and I
+came here for that purpose."
+
+"I invited you because I desired to see you."
+
+"Shameless one!" cried Moritz, furious.
+
+"Sir," cried the ambassador, placing himself before Moritz, defying his
+anger, "you forget that you are speaking to a lady. As her husband is
+silent, I declare myself her knight, and I will not suffer her to be
+injured by word or look.
+
+"How can you hinder me?" cried Moritz, with scorn. "What will you do
+if I dash this paper at her feet, and forbid her to ever write my name
+again?" Making a ball of it, he suited the action to the word, casting a
+defiant look at the marquis.
+
+"I shall order the footmen to thrust you out of the house. Here,
+servants, remove this man; he is an escaped lunatic, undoubtedly."
+
+Two footmen pressed forward through the circle which crowded around
+Moritz.
+
+"Whoever touches me, death to him!" thundered Moritz, laying his hand
+upon a small sword at his side.
+
+"Let no one dare lay a hand on this gentleman," cried Marie, with a
+commanding wave of her hand to the lackeys. "I beseech you, marquis, and
+you, honored guests, to quietly await the conclusion of this scene, and
+to permit Herr Moritz to finish speaking."
+
+"Do you mean to defy me, madame?" muttered Moritz, gnashing his teeth.
+"You perhaps count upon my magnanimity to keep silent, and not disclose
+the secrets of the past to this aristocratic assembly. I stand here as
+its accusing spirit, and condemn you as a shameless perjurer.--I will
+ask you who are here rendering homage to this woman, if you know who she
+is, and of what she has been guilty? As a young girl she was as sweet
+and innocent as an angel, and seemed more like a divine revelation.
+To think of her, inspired and elevated one's thoughts, and heaven was
+mirrored in her eyes. She was poor, and yet so infinitely rich, that if
+a king had laid all his treasures at her feet, as the gift of his love,
+he would receive more than he gave, for in her heart reposed the wealth
+of the whole human race. Oh! I could weep tears of blood in reflecting
+upon what she was, and what she has become. Smile and mock, ladies and
+gentlemen; my brain is crazed, and I weep for my lost angel."
+
+Moritz dashed his hands to his face, and stood swaying backward and
+forward, sobbing.
+
+Sighs and regrets were heard in the room. The ladies pressed their
+handkerchiefs to their eyes; others regarded with lively sympathy the
+handsome young man, who deeply interested them, and gazed reproachfully
+at the young baroness, expecting her to be crushed with these reproaches
+and tears, but who, on the contrary, stood with proud composure, her
+face beaming with joy, gazing at Moritz.
+
+"It is past--my last tear is shed, and my last wail has been uttered,"
+cried Philip, uncovering his face. "My angel has changed into a
+despicable woman. I loved her as the wretched, disconsolate being adores
+the one who reveals paradise to him; and she fooled me into the belief
+that she loved me. We exchanged vows of eternal constancy and affection,
+and promised each other to bear joyfully every ill in life, and never
+separate until death. I should have doubted myself, rather than she who
+stood above me, like a divine revelation. I wished to win her by toil
+and industry, by my intellect, and the fame by which I could render my
+name illustrious. It was, indeed, nothing in the eyes of her grasping
+parents; they repulsed me with scorn and pride, but Marie encouraged
+me to perfect confidence in her affection. Whilst I wandered on foot to
+Silesia, like a poor pilgrim toward happiness, to humble myself before
+the king, to beg and combat for my angel, there came temptation, sin,
+and vulgarity, in the form of this pale, cowed-down man, who stands
+beside my betrothed gasping with rage. The temptation of riches changed
+my angel into a demon, a miserable woman bartered for gold! She betrayed
+her love, yielding it up for filthy lucre, crushing her nobler nature
+in the dust, and driving over it, as did Tullia the dead body of her
+father. She sold herself for riches, before which you all kneel, as if
+worshipping the golden calf! After selling her soul to a man whom she
+despised, even if he were not rich, she has had the boldness to summon
+me, the down-trodden and half-crazed victim, to her gilded palace, as if
+I were a slave to be attached to her triumphal car. I am a free man, and
+have come here only to hurl contempt in her face, to brand her before
+you all as a perjurer and a traitress, whom I never will pardon, but
+will curse with my latest breath! Now I have relieved my heart of its
+burden, I command this woman to deny what I have said, if she can."
+
+With a dictatorial wave of the hand, he pointed excitedly Marie. A
+deathlike stillness reigned. Even the lights seemed to grow dim, and
+every one was oppressed as if by excessive sultriness.
+
+Again Moritz commanded Marie to acknowledge the truth of his accusations
+before the honored assembly.
+
+She encountered his angry glance with calmness, and a smile was
+perceptible upon her lip. "Yes, said she, I acknowledge that I am a
+perjurer and a traitor. I have sold myself for riches, and yielded my
+peace of soul and my love for mammon. I might justify myself, but I
+refrain from it, and will only say that you have told the truth! One day
+you will cease to curse me, and, perhaps a tear of pity will glisten in
+the eye now flashing with scorn and anger. The poor wife who lies in the
+dust implores for the last blessing of your love!"
+
+"Marie!" he cried, with heart-rending anguish, "oh, Marie!" and rushed
+toward her, kneeling before her, and clinging to her, pressing a kiss
+upon her hand and weeping aloud. Only for a moment did he give way, and
+then sprang up wildly, rushing through the crowd, out of the room.
+
+A fearful silence ensued. No one had the courage to break it. Every one
+hoped that Marie, through a simulated fainting, would end the painful
+scene, and give the guests an opportunity to withdraw. No such
+thoughtfulness for her friends occurred to her.
+
+She turned to the Marquis de Treves, who stood pale and deeply agitated
+behind her, and burst into a loud laugh.
+
+"How pale you are! Have you taken this comedy for truth? Did you think
+this theatrical performance was a reality? You have forgotten what I
+told you a month since in Paris, that I had a native talent for acting.
+You would contest the matter with me, and I bet you that I could
+introduce an impromptu scene in my house, with such artistic skill, that
+you would be quite deceived."
+
+"Indeed I do recall it; how could I have forgotten it?" replied the
+marquis, with the ready tact of the diplomat.
+
+"Have I won?" asked Marie, smiling.
+
+"You have played your role, baroness, like an artiste of consummate
+talent, and to-morrow I shall have the honor to cancel the debt in your
+favor."
+
+"Now, then, give me your arm, marquis, and conduct me to the
+dancing-room, and you, worthy guests, follow us," said. Marie, leading
+the way.
+
+The merry music even was not sufficient to dissipate the awkward
+oppression, and by midnight the guests had taken leave, and Marie stood
+under the chandelier, pale and rigid, opposite her husband. He had
+summoned courage to bewail the terrible scene, weeping and mourning over
+her cruelty and his shame. Marie, with chilling indifference, regarded
+him without one visible trace of pity.
+
+"You realized what you were doing when you imposed the scorn of this
+marriage upon me," she said. "I have never deceived you with vain hopes!
+You have sown dragons' teeth, and warriors have sprung up to revenge me
+upon you. Serve yourself of your riches to fight the combatants. See if
+you can bargain for a quiet conscience as easily as you purchased me!
+My soul is free though, and it hovers over you as the spirit of
+revenge.--Beware!"
+
+She slowly turned and quitted the room. Her diamonds sparkled and blazed
+in the myriads of lights. The large mirrors reflected the image of a
+haughty woman, who swept proudly past like a goddess of revenge!
+
+Ebenstreit stood gazing after her. He had a horror of the lonely still
+room, so gorgeous and brilliantly illuminated--a shudder crept over him,
+and he sank, weeping bitterly.
+
+In the little room, the buried happiness of the past, Marie knelt, with
+outstretched arms, imploring heaven for mercy. "I thank Thee, Heavenly
+Father, that I have been permitted to see him again! My sacrifice was
+not in vain--he lives! He is free, and his mind is clear and bright. I
+thank Thee that he still loves me. His anger is but love!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI. THE KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS.
+
+
+The joy which Bischofswerder said, reigned in heaven and upon earth over
+the return of the crown prince to the path of virtue, in having forsaken
+Wilhelmine Enke, was of but short duration.
+
+The Invisibles and the pious Rosicrucians soon learned that sagacious
+and cunning woman defied the spirits and abjured the oaths.
+
+Since the night of his communion with the departed, Frederick William
+had never visited Charlottenburg--never seen the house which contained
+all that he held most dear; he had returned Wilhelmine's letters
+unopened, and had even had the courage to refuse himself to the
+children, who came to see him.
+
+If he had been left to consult his own heart, he would not probably have
+had sufficient resolution to have done this; Bischofswerder and Woellner
+never left him for a moment, as they said the Invisible Fathers had
+commanded them to tarry with the much-loved brother in these first days
+of trial and temptation, and to elevate and gladden him with edifying
+conversations and scientific investigations.
+
+The prayers and exhortations were the duty of Woellner, who, besides
+this, continued his daily discourses upon the administration of
+government, preparing the prince for the important command of the royal
+regiments, which they hoped favorable destiny would soon grant him.
+
+The scientific researches were the part of Bischofswerder, and he
+entered upon his duties with the zeal and pleasure of an inquiring mind,
+itself hopeful and believing.
+
+In the cabinet arranged in the new palace at Potsdam, the prince and his
+dear Bischofswerder worked daily, many hours, to discover the great
+hope of the alchemist--the philosopher's stone. Not finding it,
+unfortunately, they brewed all sorts of miraculous drinks, which were
+welcome to the prince as the elixir of eternal youth and constant love.
+In the evenings they communed with the spirits of the distinguished
+departed, which, moved at the earnest prayers of Woellner, and the
+fervent exhortation of the crown prince, always had the goodness to
+appear, and witness their satisfaction for their much-loved son, as they
+called him, for continuing brave and faithful, and not falling into the
+unholy snares of the seductress.
+
+The crown prince, however, experienced not the least self-contentment.
+Each day renewed the yearning for the beloved of his youth and for his
+children, for which those of his wife were no compensation--neither the
+silent, awkward Prince Frederick William, nor his crying little brother.
+In his dreams he saw Wilhelmine dissolved in tears, calling upon him in
+most tender accents, and when he awoke, it was to an inconsolable grief.
+He wept with heart-felt sorrow; his oath alone kept him from hastening
+to her; it bound him, and fettered his earnest wish to see her, making
+him sad and melancholy.
+
+The spirits had no pity nor mercy upon him. His two confidants
+encouraged his virtue and piety from morning till night, exalting his
+excited fancy with their marvellous relations and apparitions.
+
+One day as they were on the point of commencing the morning prayers to
+the Invisibles, a royal footman appeared, with the command to betake
+themselves to Sans-Souci, where the king awaited them.
+
+A royal carriage was in attendance to convey them. There was no
+alternative but obedience.
+
+"Perhaps Fate destines us to become martyrs to the holy cause," said
+Woellner, devoutly folding his hands.
+
+"We may never enjoy the happiness of seeing our dear brothers of the
+confederacy again," sighed Bischofswerder. "Our spirits will always be
+with you, my prince, and the Invisible Fathers will protect you in all
+your ways."
+
+The crown prince, deeply moved, separated from his friends with tears
+in his eyes; but as the carriage rolled away he felt relieved as of an
+oppressive burden, and breathed more freely.
+
+At the same time a footman entered, bearing upon a golden salver a
+letter for the prince. Unobserved and free to act, he read it, and as he
+sat musingly thinking over its contents, so tender and affectionate,
+he re-read it, and rising, made a bold resolve, his face beaming with
+happiness, to order his carriage, which he did, and in a few moments
+more drove at full speed away from the palace.
+
+Bischofswerder and Woellner, in the mean time, arrived at Sans-Souci.
+The footman awaiting them conducted them at once through the
+picture-gallery, into the little corridor leading to the king's cabinet,
+and there left them to announce them to his majesty. Both gentlemen
+heard their names called in a loud voice, and the response of the king:
+"Let them wait in the little corridor until I permit them to enter."
+
+The footman returned and with subdued voice made known the royal
+command, and departed, carefully closing the door.
+
+There was no seat in the narrow, little corridor, and the air was close
+and oppressive.
+
+They could hear voices in mingled conversation; sometimes it seemed as
+if the king were communicating commands; again, as if he dictated in a
+suppressed voice. The Rosicrucians knew very well it was the hour of the
+cabinet council, and they waited patiently and steadfastly, but as their
+watches revealed the fact that three hours had passed, and every noise
+was hushed, they concluded they were forgotten, and resolved to remind
+the lackey of their presence.
+
+"Indeed, this standing is quite insupportable," whispered Woellner.
+
+They both slipped to the entrance and tried the bronze knob, but
+although it turned, the door opened not, and was evidently fastened upon
+the outside. They looked alarmed at each other, asking what it could
+mean. "Can it be intentional? Are we imprisoned here? We must be
+resigned, although it is a severe experience." At last, patience
+exhausted, they resolved to bear it no longer, and tapped gently at the
+door of the king. The loud bark of a dog was their only response, and
+again all was still.
+
+"Evidently there is no one there," sighed Bischofswerder. "It is the
+hour of dining of the king."
+
+"I wish it were ours also," whined Woellner. "I confess I yearn for
+bodily nourishment, and my legs sink under me."
+
+"I am fearfully hungry," groaned Bischofswerder; "besides, the air is
+suffocating. I am resolved to go to extremes, and make a noise."
+
+He rushed like a caged boar from one door to the other, shrieking for
+the lackey to open the door; but as before, a loud bark was the only
+response.
+
+"The Lord has forsaken us," whimpered Woellner. "The sublime Fathers
+have turned their faces away from us. We will pray for mercy and beg for
+a release!" and he sank upon his knees.
+
+"What will that avail us here, where neither prayers nor devotion are
+heeded? Only energy and determination will aid us at Sans-Souci. Come,
+let us thump and bang until they set us free!" cried Bischofswerder,
+peevishly.
+
+Their hands were lame, and their voices hoarse with their exertions;
+and no longer able to stand, they sank down upon the floor hungry and
+exhausted, almost weeping with rage and despair.
+
+At last, after long hours of misery, they heard a noise in the adjoining
+room. The king had again entered his cabinet. The door opened, and the
+lackey motioned to the two gentlemen to enter. They rose with difficulty
+and staggered into the room, the door being closed behind them.
+
+His majesty was seated in his arm-chair, with his three-cornered hat on,
+leaning his chin upon his hands, crossed upon his staff. He fixed his
+great blue eyes, with a searching glance, upon the two Rosicrucians;
+then turned to his minister, Herzberg, who was seated at the table
+covered with documents.
+
+"These are, then, the two great props of the Rosicrucians?" asked
+Frederick--"the two charlatans whom they have told me make hell hot
+for the crown prince, continually lighting it up with their prayers and
+litanies."
+
+"Your majesty," answered Herzberg, smiling, "these gentlemen are Colonel
+Bischofswerder and the councillor of the exchequer, Woellner, whom your
+majesty has commanded to appear before you."
+
+"You are the two gentlemen who work miracles, and have the effrontery
+to summon the spirit of our ancestor, the great elector, and the Emperor
+Marcus Aurelius?"
+
+"Sire," stammered Bischofswerder, "we have tried to summon spirits."
+
+"And I too," cried the king, "only they will not come; therefore I
+wished to see the enchanters, and would like to purchase the secret."
+
+"Pardon me, most gracious sire," said Woellner, humbly, "you must first
+be received in the holy order of the Rosicrucians."
+
+"Thanks," cried the king, "I am not ready for the like follies, and
+whilst I live the Invisibles must take heed not to become too visible,
+or they will be taken care of. I will not permit Prussia to retrograde.
+It has cost too much trouble to enlighten the people, bring them to
+reason, and banish hypocrisy. Say to the Rosicrucians that they shall
+leave the crown prince in peace, or I will chase them to the devil, who
+will receive them with open arms! It could do no harm to appeal to the
+prince's conscience to lead an honorable life, and direct his thoughts
+more to study than to love, but you shall not make a hypocrite of him
+and misuse his natural good-nature. If the Rosicrucians try to force
+the prince and rule him, I will show them that I am master, and will
+no longer suffer their absurdities, but will break up the whole nest
+of them! I have been much, annoyed at the deep despondency of the crown
+prince. You shall not represent to him that baseness and virtue are the
+same, and that he is the latter when he betrays those to whom he has
+sworn fidelity and affection. An honorable man must, above all, he
+cognizant of benefits, and not forsake those who have sacrificed
+their honor and love to him, and have proved their fidelity. Have you
+understood me, gentlemen?"
+
+"It will be my holy duty to follow strictly your majesty's commands,"
+said Bischofswerder.
+
+"And I also will strive to promote the will of my king," asserted
+Woellner.
+
+"It will be necessary to do so, or you two gentlemen may find yourselves
+at Spandau. I would say to you once for all, I will not suffer any
+sects; every one can worship God in his own way. No one shall have the
+arrogant presumption to declare himself one of the elect. We are
+all sinners. The Rosicrucians are not better than the Illuminati or
+Freemasons, and none are more worthy than the tailor and cobbler who
+does his duty. Adieu!"
+
+The king nodded quickly and pointed to the door out of which the two
+brothers were about to disappear, when he called them back.
+
+"If the prince is not at the palace on your return, I advise you not to
+pursue him, but reflect that the Invisibles may have summoned him to
+a communion of spirits; I believe, too, that I kept you waiting; but
+without doubt you were comforted by the Fathers, who bore you away upon
+their wings, and gave you food and drink! Those who are protected by
+the spirits, and can summon them at pleasure, can never want. If you are
+hungry, call up the departed Lucullus, that he may provide for you to
+eat; and if you have no earthly seat, summon Semiramis that she may send
+you her hanging gardens for the quiet repose of the elect! I am rejoiced
+that you have enjoyed such celestial refreshments in the corridor.
+Adieu!"
+
+The king gazed sadly after them. Approaching Herzberg, he said: "I felt,
+as I looked at the two rogues, that it was a pity to grow old. Did you
+think that I would let them off so easily?"
+
+"Sire, I really do not understand you," replied Herzberg, shrugging his
+shoulders. "I know not, in your most active youthful days, how you could
+have done otherwise."
+
+"I will tell you that, if I were not an old man, void of decision and
+energy, I would have had these fellows taken to Spandau for life!" said
+the king, striking the table with his staff.
+
+"Your majesty does yourself injustice," said Herzberg, smiling. "You
+were ever a just monarch in your most ardent youth, and never set aside
+the law. These men were not guilty of any positive crime."
+
+"They are daily and hourly guilty of enticing away from me the crown
+prince, and making the future ruler of my country an obscurer, a
+necromancer, and at the same time a libertine! I was obliged to overlook
+his youthful preference for Wilhelmine Enke, and wink at this amour,
+for I know that crown prince is human, and his affections are to be
+consulted. If he cannot love the wife which diplomacy chooses for him,
+then he must be permitted the chosen one of his heart to console him
+for the forced marriage. At the same time this person was passable, and
+without the usual fault of such creatures, a desire to rule and mingle
+in politics. She seems to be unambitious and unpretentious. These
+Rosicrucians would banish her by increasing the number of favorites,
+that they may rule him, and make the future King of Prussia a complete
+tool in their hands. They excite his mind, which is not too well
+balanced, and rob him by their witchcraft of the intellect that he has.
+They promise him to find the philosopher's stone, and make a fool of
+him. Am I not right?"
+
+"I must acknowledge that you are," sighed Herzberg.
+
+"And admit also that it would be just to send these in, famous fellows
+as criminals to Spandau."
+
+"Sire, unfortunately, there are crimes and offences which the law does
+not reach, and which cannot be judged."
+
+"When I was young," said the king, "I tore up and stamped upon every
+weed that I found in my garden. Shall I now let these two grow and
+infect the air, because the law gives me no right to crush them?
+Formerly I would have torn them leaf from leaf, but now I am old
+and useless, my hand is weak, and lacks the strength to uproot them,
+therefore I suffer them to stand, and all the other abominable things
+which these rogues bring to pass. A cloud is rising, from which a storm
+will one day burst over Prussia; but I cannot dissipate it, for
+the little strength and breath that remains I have need of for the
+government; and, moreover, I have no superfluous time for the future,
+but must live and work only for the present."
+
+"But the blessing of your exertions will be felt in the future. The
+deeds of a great man are not extinguished with his death, but shine like
+a star, disseminating light beyond his grave!"
+
+"This light is just what the Rosicrucians will take care to extinguish
+like a tallow candle with too long a wick, and it is good fortune that
+the astronomers have awarded me a little glorification in the heavens,
+and accorded me a star, for the Rosicrucians would not let it shine here
+below. I must console myself with this, and recall that when it is dark
+and lowering here, I have a star above in the sky!"
+
+"This star is Frederick's honor," cried Herzberg. "It will beam upon
+future generations, and become the guiding light of the sons and nephews
+of your house, and they will learn to be as sagacious and wise as the
+Great Frederick."
+
+"There you have made a great error, Herzberg," replied the king,
+quickly. "Future generations are newer taught by the past--grandchildren
+think themselves wiser than their grandparents. The greatest of heroes
+is forgotten, and his deeds buried in the dust of ages. You have given
+me a glorious title of honor, and I know how little I deserve it."
+
+"A title which will be confirmed in centuries to come, for every history
+will speak of Frederick the Second as Frederick Great."
+
+"In history it may be, but the people will speak of me as 'Old
+Fritz'--that will be on the lips of those who love me, and expression of
+endearment; on the lips of those who hate me, one of disaffection. I am,
+indeed, 'Old Fritz,' which the Bischofswerders and Woellners also call
+me, and try to make the crown prince believe that I have outlived my
+period, and do not understand or esteem the modern time. In their eyes
+I am a dismantled ship of state, which the storms of life have rendered
+unseaworthy. They would refit the vessel, and give it a new flag,
+sending Old Fritz, the helmsman, to the devil! The day of my death they
+will hoist this flag, with 'Modern Time' inscribed upon it in large
+letters. I shall then be united in Elysium with Voltaire, Jordan, Suhm,
+and all my other friends, as we were wont to be at Sans-Souci, and look
+down with a pitying smile upon the Modern Time and Old Folly!--Vale!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII. THE ESPOUSALS.
+
+
+Both Bischofswerder and Woellner hastened to avail themselves of the
+commanding "adieu," and quit the royal presence. Without, the carriage
+was ready to reconvey them to the new palace. They were so exhausted
+that neither of them uttered a word, the last injunctions of the king
+ringing in their ears.
+
+Silently they alighted upon arriving, but as the footman came out to
+meet them they asked, simultaneously, if his royal highness had dined.
+
+"His highness is not here, having departed immediately after the two
+gentlemen, and is not yet returned," he answered.
+
+"You may serve us something to eat as quickly as possible in the
+little dining-room. Let it be ready in a quarter of an hour," commanded
+Bischofswerder.
+
+"Now that we are alone, what do you think of this affair?" asked
+Woellner.
+
+"I cannot vouchsafe a reply until I have eaten a pheasant's wing, and
+drunken my champagne," replied Bischofswerder.
+
+He kept his word, preserving a solemn silence until a good half of the
+bird had disappeared, and many glasses of iced champagne.
+
+Then Bischofswerder leaned back in his comfortable armchair with
+infinite ease, whilst his friend occupied himself with the most pious
+zeal with the pheasant, rejoicing at this revelation of the Invisibles.
+Bischofswerder let him enjoy it, and ordered the footman to serve the
+dessert and withdraw.
+
+"Now I am prepared to reply to you, my dear friend, that we are alone. I
+believe the king would have sent us to Spandau at once if we had opposed
+his free-thinking opinions."
+
+"I am convinced of it," sighed Woellner, eyeing the remains of the bird
+with a melancholy glance. "We shall have much to endure for the holy
+cause which we serve."
+
+"That is to say, we will have much to suffer if we, in fanatical
+indiscretion, do not submit to circumstances," said Bischofswerder.
+
+"You cannot traduce the sublime Fathers!" cried Woellner;--"for the
+body's security, we cannot endanger the salvation of our souls, and,
+like Peter, deny our master."
+
+"No, my much-loved and noble friend. But we must be wise as serpents,
+and our duty to the holy order is to preserve its useful tools that they
+may not be lost. You will agree with me in this?"
+
+"Indeed, I do admit it," replied Wollner, pathetically.
+
+"Further, you will acknowledge that we are very useful, and I might say
+indispensable tools of the Sublime Order of the Rosicrucians and the
+Invisible Fathers of the Order of Jesus? It is our task to secure an
+abiding-place to the proscribed and, cursed, to plough and sow the
+field, which will yield good fruit for humanity entire, and particularly
+our order, when the crown prince ascends the throne. We will here erect
+a kingdom of the future, and it is all-important to lay so secure a
+corner-stone in the heart of his highness that nothing can shake or
+dislodge it. Who could perfect this work if we were not here? Who would
+dare to undertake the difficult task if we should fail? Who would
+carry on a secret and continued warfare with this artful and powerful
+seductress if we were conquered?"
+
+"No one would do it," sighed Woellner, "no one would sacrifice
+themselves like Samson for this Delilah."
+
+"We will together be the Samson," replied Bischofswerder, drawing
+a glass of sparkling champagne. "We will be the Samson which the
+Philistines drove out, but this woman shall not practise the arts of
+Delilah upon us in putting our eyes out or cutting off our hair. Against
+two Samsons the most artful and beautiful Delilah is not wary enough;
+and if we cannot conquer her, we must resort to other means."
+
+"What may they be, dear brother?"
+
+"We must compromise the matter."
+
+Woellner sprang up, and a flush of anger or from champagne overspread
+his face "Compromise with the sinful creature!" he cried, impetuously.
+"Make peace with the seductress, who leads the prince from the path of
+virtue!"
+
+"Yes, we must be on friendly terms with this woman, who could greatly
+injure us as an enemy, and aid us infinitely as a friend. This is my
+intention, and I am the more convinced that we must accept this middle
+course, as she is protected by the king."
+
+"Because he knows from his spies that she mingles with the Illuminati
+and the Freemasons, and that she is our opponent," said Woellner.
+
+"The more the reason, my noble zealot, to win her friendship, who will
+have validity and power until the crown prince reigns, and this old
+godless freethinker of a king is in his gravel Then Prussia will
+commence a new era, and we shall be lords, and guide the machine of
+state. For such lofty aims one ought to be ready to compromise with his
+Satanic majesty even. Then why not with this little she-devil, whose
+power is fading every year with her youth and beauty?"
+
+"It is quite true, we should be mindful of the device of our Invisible
+Fathers. The end sanctifies the means," sighed Woellner.
+
+"I believe it to be indispensable, and you will grant that I am right.
+Do you not see that the prince has availed himself of our absence to go
+there, and has not yet returned?"
+
+"What!" shrieked Woellner, clasping his hands--"you do not mean that--"
+
+"That Rinaldo has returned to the enchanted garden of Armida."
+
+"Oh, let us hasten to release him at once, and revue his soul from
+perdition!" cried Woellner, springing up.
+
+"On the contrary, let us await him here without a word of reproach upon
+his return. This will touch his tender heart which we must work upon,
+if we would get him into our power, for to us he must belong. Fill
+our glasses with the sparkling wine, and drink to the contract with
+Wilhelmine Enke."
+
+Just as merrily they quaffed the champagne in the little cosy
+dining-room at Charlottenburg, where the prince and Wilhelmine were
+rejoicing over a reconciliation, no one being present but the two
+children. Their joyous laugh and innocent jests delighted the father,
+and the beaming eyes, sweet smile, and witty conversation of his
+favorite, filled his heart with pleasure.
+
+Not a word of reproach escaped her, but exultant and joyous she hastened
+with outstretched arms to meet him, kissing away all his attempts to
+implore pardon, and thanking him that he had returned to her.
+
+At first the prince gave himself up to the joy of the reunion with his
+beloved Wilhelmine sad children; but now, as the first outburst had
+passed, the quiet, happy dinner being finished, and they had returned
+to the sitting-room, a tinge of melancholy earnestness overshadowed his
+amiable face.
+
+Wilhelmine threw her arms gently around his neck as she sat beside him
+upon the divan, and looked up to him with a tender questioning glance.
+"Your thoughts are veiled, dearest; will you not confide to me that
+which lies concealed there?"
+
+"Ah, Wilhelmine, it is a mourning veil, and hides the sorrow of
+renunciation."
+
+"I do not understand you, Frederick," she smilingly replied. "Who could
+compel you to an abnegation which would cause you grief?"
+
+"Listen to me, Wilhelmine, and understand that I am suffering from
+circumstances--an oath taken in the pressure of the moment. Try to
+comprehend me, my dear child."
+
+Drawing her closer to him, he faithfully related to her the night of the
+communion of the spirits, and his consequent oath.
+
+"Is that all, my dear?" she replied, smiling, as he finished.
+
+"What do you mean?" he asked, astonished.
+
+"Nothing more than I would know if you have only sworn to renounce
+Wilhelmine Enke!"
+
+"What could I have done more prejudicial to you?" he cried, not a little
+irritated.
+
+"Surely you could not injure or grieve me more, and therefore I am not
+a little surprised that the pious Fathers could so carelessly word their
+oaths. You have sworn to renounce your affection to and separate from
+Wilhelmine Enke; so it follows that the Invisibles only demand that you
+give up my name, not myself, and that is easily changed, and my dear
+prince will not become a perjurer."
+
+"I do not quite understand you; but I perceive by the arch expression
+of your face that you have conceived a lucky escape for your unhappy
+Frederick William. Explain to me, dearest, your meaning."
+
+"I must change my name by marrying some one!" she whispered.
+
+"Marry! and I give you to another? I will never consent to that," he
+cried, alarmed.
+
+"Not to a husband, only a name," said she. "These Rosicrucians are such
+extraordinarily virtuous and pure beings, loving you so infinitely and
+disinterestedly, that it grieves them that my love for you does not shun
+the light, and throw over itself the mantle of hypocritical virtue!
+We will yield to the zealous purity of the Rosicrucians," continued
+Wilhelmine, her eyes sparkling, "and wrap this Wilhelmine Enke in a
+mantle of virtue by giving her a husband; and then, when she walks out
+with her children the passers-by will not have to blush with shame,
+and cry, 'There goes the miss with her children!' I have conceived and
+planned during this long and painful separation, and I am resolved to
+submit humbly to the pious Fathers, who are so zealously watchful for
+the salvation of your soul and my good fame."
+
+"That is to say, you are determined to snap your fingers at them!
+Your plan is a good one, but you will find no one to aid you in a sham
+marriage!"
+
+"I have already found one," whispered Wilhelmine, smiling. "Your valet
+de chambre Rietz is willing to stand with me in a sham marriage."
+
+"My body-servant!"
+
+"Yes, Frederick William! You will confess that I am not ambitious, and
+only consent to it to secure our happiness from the persecution of
+these virtuous men. Here is the contract," said she, drawing from her
+dress-pocket a paper, which she unfolded. "He promises to give me his
+name, and regard me as a stranger always, for the sum of four hundred
+thalers annually, with the promise of promotion to confidential
+servant when the noble crown prince shall ascend the throne. [Footnote:
+Historical.--See F. Forster, "Latest Prussian History," vol. 1., p. 74]
+Will you sign it?"
+
+"I will do any thing that will grant me your affection, in spite of my
+unhappy oath. Give me the paper. I will sign it. When is the wedding?"
+
+"The moment that you, my dear lord and master, have inscribed your
+name," said Wilhelmine, handing him the pen, and pointing to the paper.
+
+The prince wrote the desired signature, quickly throwing the pen across
+the room, shouting, "Long live Wilhelmine Rietz, who has rescued me from
+perjury and sin! Come to my arms, outstretched to press to my heart the
+most beautiful, most intelligent, and most diplomatic of women!"
+
+Two days later it was related in Berlin that Wilhelmine Enke had married
+the princely valet de chambre Rietz, the crown prince being present at
+the ceremony, which took place at a small village near Potsdam.
+
+Under the head of marriages, the Berlin newspapers announced "Wilhelmine
+Enke to Carl Rietz."
+
+"Ah, my Rosicrucians," cried Wilhelmine, laughingly, as she read this
+notice, a mischievous triumph sparkling in her eyes; "ah, my heroes in
+virtue, for once you are outwitted, and I am victorious! I would like
+to witness their surprise. How they will laugh and swear over it! The
+favorite of a prince married to a valet de chambre! Wait until the
+prince becomes a king, then Wilhelmine Rietz will develop into a
+beautiful butterfly, and the wife of the valet de chambre will become
+a countess--nay, a princess. The Great Kophta has promised it, and
+he shall keep his word. I wear his ring, which sparkles and glistens,
+although the jeweller declares the diamond has been exchanged for a
+false stone. No matter, if it only shines like the real one. Every thing
+earthly is deception, falsehood, and glitter. Every one is storming and
+pressing on in savage eagerness toward fortune, honor, and fame! I will
+have my part in it. The storm and pressure of the world rage in my own
+heart. The fire of ambition is lighted in my soul, and the insatiable
+thirst for fortune consumes me. Blaze and burn until the day that
+Frederick William ascends the throne; then the low-born daughter of
+the trumpeter will become the high-born countess. The false stone will
+change to the sparkling diamond and Cagliostro shall then serve me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII. REVENGE FULFILLED.
+
+
+Since the soiree at the house of the rich banker, Ebenstreit, an
+entire winter had passed in pleasures and fetes. The position of Baron
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen had been recognized in aristocratic society,
+thanks to his dinners, soirees, balls, fetes, and particularly to
+his lovely, spirited, and proud wife. Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen had
+reached the acme of his ambition; his house was the resort of the most
+distinguished society; the extravagance and superb arrangements of
+his dinners and fetes were the theme of every tongue. This excessive
+admiration flattered the vain, ambitious parvenu extremely, and it was
+the happiest day of his life when Prince Henry of Prussia, brother of
+Frederick the Great, did him the unspeakable honor to dine with him.
+This gratifying day he owed to his wife, and, as he said, it ought to be
+kept as the greatest triumph of money over prejudice and etiquette--the
+day upon which a royal prince recognized the rich and newly-created
+noble as his equal. Ebenstreit's entrance into the highest circle of
+aristocracy was due to the management and tone of the world of his wife,
+who understood the elegancies of life, passing as an example and ideal
+of an elegant woman, of which her husband was very proud. He lauded his
+original and crafty idea of devoting his money to such a satisfactory
+purchase as a sensible and ladylike wife, although the union was not a
+happy one, and, in the proper acceptation of the word, no marriage at
+all.
+
+Whilst all were entertained at the fetes, and envied the splendor and
+wealth of Baron von Ebenstreit, there were many sinister remarks as to
+the possibility of sustaining this expenditure upon such a grand scale.
+It was whispered about that the banking-house, conducted under another
+name, had lost in extensive speculations, and that the baron lived upon
+his principal instead of his interest. The business community declared
+that the firm entered into the most daring and senseless undertakings,
+and that it must go to ruin. The old book-keeper, Splittgerber, who had
+for many years conducted the business, had been pensioned by the baron,
+and commenced for himself. His successor had once ventured to warn the
+nobleman, and represent to him the danger which threatened him, for
+which he was immediately dismissed, and the fact communicated to the
+entire house, at a special assemblage of the clerks for the purpose,
+with the warning of a like fate for every subordinate who should presume
+to criticise the acts of the principals, or proffer advice to them.
+Since this no one had ventured to repeat the offence, but every member
+of the house occupied himself in drawing a profit from the general and
+daily increasing confusion, and save something from the wreck which
+would inevitably ensue. The baron, with pretentious unconcern, dazzled
+by his unusual honors, permitted his business affairs to take their
+course with smiling unconcern, and when unsuccessful, to hide the
+mistakes of the banker under the pomp of the baron.
+
+Marie, indulging in the style of a great lady, appeared not to notice
+or trouble herself at all about these things. She entertained most
+luxuriantly, and spent enormous sums upon her toilet, changed the costly
+livery of her numerous retinue of servants every month, as well as the
+furniture of the drawing-rooms; and presented with generous liberality
+her superfluous ornaments, dresses, and furniture to her dear high-born
+friends, who greedily accepted them, and were overflowing in their
+tender protestations and gratitude, whilst they in secret revolted at
+the presumption of the arrogant woman, who permitted herself to send
+them her cast-off things.
+
+They rejoiced to receive them, however, and reappeared in her splendid
+drawing-rooms, enduring the pride and neglect of the baroness, and
+calling her their dear friend, whom they in secret envied and hated.
+
+Did Marie know this, or did she let herself be deceived by these
+friendly protestations? Occasionally, when her friends embraced and
+kissed her, a languid smile flitted over her haughty face; and once as
+she wandered through the suite of rooms, awaiting her guests, she caught
+the reflection of a beautiful woman in the costly Venetian mirrors,
+sparkling with diamonds and wearing a silver-embroidered dress with a
+train. She gazed at this woman with an expression of ineffable scorn,
+and whispered to her: "Suffer yet awhile, you shall soon be released.
+This miserable trash will disappear. Only be firm--I hear already the
+cracking of the house which will soon fall a wreck at your feet!"
+
+Others heard it also. As preparations were being made for a grand
+dinner, with which the Baron and Baroness von Ebenstreit would close the
+season, the former head bookkeeper of the baron appeared at the palace,
+demanding, with anxious mien, to see the principal.
+
+Just at the moment the baron and his wife were in the large
+reception-room, which the decorator was splendidly arranging, under the
+direction of the baroness, with flowers, festoons, columns, and statues.
+Ebenstreit was watching admiringly the tasteful and costly display
+as the footman announced the former book-keeper and present banker,
+Splittgerber.
+
+"He must come at another time," cried Ebenstreit, impatiently, "I am
+busy now; I--"
+
+"Excuse me, baron," replied an earnest, gentle voice behind him, "that
+I have followed the lackey and entered unbidden. I come on urgent
+business, and I must indeed speak with you instantly!"
+
+"Be brief then, at least," cried Ebenstreit, peevishly. "You see that my
+wife is here, and we are very busy arranging for a grand dinner to-day."
+
+Herr Splittgerber, instead of replying, cast a peculiarly sad, searching
+glance through the beautifully-adorned room, and at the two lackeys, who
+stood on each side of the wide folding-doors.
+
+"Permit that these servants withdraw, and order them to close the
+doors," said the book-keeper, almost commandingly. Ebenstreit, overruled
+by the solemn earnestness, obeyed against his will.
+
+"Would you like me to leave also, sir?" said Marie, with a calm, haughty
+manner. "You have only to ask it and the baron will, undoubtedly, accord
+your request."
+
+"On the contrary, I beg you to remain," quietly replied Splittgerber,
+"for what I have to say concerns you and your husband equally."
+
+"Now, then, I beg you to say it quickly," cried Ebenstreit, impatiently;
+"I repeat, that we are very busy with preparing for to-day's festival."
+
+"You will not give any fete to-day," said Splittgerber, solemnly.
+
+Ebenstreit, cringing and frightened, gazed at the old man who looked
+sadly at him.
+
+The baroness laughed aloud, sneeringly. "My dear sir, your tone and
+manner remind me of the wicked spirit at the horrible moment in the
+story when he comes to demand the bartered soul, and the enchanted
+castle falls a wreck!"
+
+"Your comparison is an apt one, baroness," sighed the old man.--"I came
+to you, baron, because I loved your father. I have served your house
+thirty years, and amassed the little I had to commence business with in
+your service. Moreover, when you so suddenly dismissed me, you not
+only gave me my salary as a pension, but you funded the annuity with
+a considerable sum, which makes me, through your house, independent in
+means."
+
+"You may thank my wife for that. She demanded, when I dismissed you,
+that I should compensate you with the liberality of a true nobleman."
+
+"Oh, would that you had not done it, baroness!" cried
+Splittgerber--"would that you had permitted the old faithful pioneer in
+the business to remain by your husband! He might have warded off this
+misfortune and saved you by his experience and advice."
+
+"For this very reason I demanded your removal. You permitted yourself to
+proffer advice which I felt did not become you," replied Marie, with a
+strange smile of triumph.
+
+"And, I repeat, would that you had not done it!" sighed the old man.
+"I came to warn you, to conjure you, to save yourselves--to flee while
+there is yet time."
+
+"Oh, mercy! what has happened?" cried Ebenstreit, terrified.
+
+"The banking-house of Ebenstreit, founded under the name of Ludwig,
+associated with Ehlert of Amsterdam, four months since, to buy and load
+ships for the Calcutta market. Herr Ebenstreit gathered together the
+last wrecks of his fortune remaining from his ruinous speculations, to
+win enormously in this investment. Besides, he indorsed the notes of the
+Amsterdam house for the sum of eighty thousand dollars, which has been
+drawn, so that their notes are protested there. Herr Ebenstreit will
+have to pay this sum!"
+
+"What else?" asked Ebenstreit, almost breathless.
+
+"The house of Ehlert, in Amsterdam, has failed; the principal has fled
+with the coffers; the notes for eighty thousand dollars were protested,
+and you, baron, must pay this sum to-day, or declare yourself a
+bankrupt, and go to prison for debt."
+
+Instantaneously a suppressed cry and a laugh were heard. Ebenstreit
+sank upon a seat, concealing his pallid face with his hands, while Marie
+stood at his side, her face beaming with joy.
+
+"I am lost, I do not possess the eighth part of that sum! I cannot pay
+it. I must submit, for there are no further means to prevent it."
+
+"No," replied Marie, with haughty tranquillity, "you have no further
+means to prevent it. The rich banker Ebenstreit will leave this house,
+no longer his own, to enter the debtor's prison poor as a beggar--nay,
+worse, a defrauder!"
+
+"Oh, how cruel you are!" groaned Ebenstreit.
+
+"Did you say, baroness, that this house is no longer his?" asked
+Splittgerber, alarmed.
+
+"No," she triumphantly cried. "It belongs to me, and all that is in
+it--the pictures, statues, silver, diamonds, and pearls. Oh, I am still
+a rich woman!"
+
+"And do you mean to retain this wealth if your husband becomes bankrupt?
+Do you not possess a common interest?" asked Splittgerber.
+
+"No, thank Heaven, the community of interest was given up a year since,"
+cried Ebenstreit, joyfully. "Baroness von Ebenstreit is the lawful
+possessor of this house and furniture. I was not so indiscreet as you
+supposed. I have at least secured this to my wife, and she will be a
+rich woman even if I fail, and will not let me starve. I shall divide
+about ten per cent with my creditors, but my wife will be rich enough
+for us both."
+
+"This gives me to understand that you intend to make a fraudulent
+bankruptcy. You have settled every thing upon your wife to save yourself
+from the unhappy consequences of your failure. You will still be a rich
+man if your wife should sell her house, works of art, diamonds, gold and
+silver service, and equipages."
+
+"Yes, indeed, a very rich man," said Marie. "In the last few weeks
+I have had my property estimated, and it would at least bring three
+hundred thousand dollars."
+
+"If the baron only possessed this, he could pay his creditors, and have
+a small amount over, sufficient to live upon economically and genteelly.
+But you would rather enjoy splendor, and are not particular about living
+honorably. You will undoubtedly sell your property, and go to Paris,
+to revel in luxury and pleasure, while your defrauded creditors may,
+through you come to poverty and want.--Baron, I now see that your wife
+did well to bring about my removal. I should have, above all things,
+given you the unwelcome advice to sustain your honor unblemished, and
+dispose of your costly surroundings for the benefit of your creditors,
+that when you die it may be with a clear conscience. You prefer a life
+of luxury and ease, rocking your conscience to sleep until God will
+rouse it to a fearful awaking. But do as you like. I came here to offer
+you assistance, thinking that you would dispose of this property, and
+after paying your creditors have sufficient to live upon. Then I could
+be permitted to prove my fidelity to you. I now see that I was a
+fool. Yet in parting I will still beg of you to avoid the unfavorable
+impression of this dinner. The bill of exchange will be presented at
+four o'clock, and the bearer will not be satisfied with the excuse of
+your non-payment on account of dinner-company. You will be obliged
+to settle at once or be arrested. I have learned this from your chief
+creditor, and I begged him to have forbearance for you. I shall now
+justify him in showing you none, as you do not deserve it!--Farewell!"
+
+The old book-keeper turned with a slight nod, and strode away through
+the drawing-room.
+
+"Have you nothing to say to him? Will you let him go thus?" asked Marie,
+impetuously.
+
+"Nothing at all. What should I say?" he replied, shrugging his
+shoulders.
+
+"Then I will speak with him." Marie called loudly after Splittgerber,
+saying, "I have a word to speak to you."
+
+The book-keeper remained standing near the door, and turning with
+downcast face, demanded of Marie what she wished.
+
+"I have something to tell you," she replied, with her usual tranquil,
+proud demeanor, approaching Splittgerber, who regarded her with severity
+and contempt, which she met with a gentle, friendly expression, a sweet
+smile hovering on her lips.
+
+Marie came close up to the old man, who awaited her with haughty
+defiance, and never advanced one step to meet her--a lady splendidly
+bedecked with diamonds and gold-embroidered satin. She whispered a few
+words in his ear. He started, and, astonished, looked into her face, as
+if questioning what he heard. She nodded, smiling, and bent again to say
+a few words.
+
+Suddenly Splittgerber seemed metamorphosed. His gloomy face brightened
+a little, and his insolent glance was changed to one of deep emotion,
+Bowing profoundly as he held the baroness's proffered hand to take
+leave, he pressed it most respectfully to his lips.
+
+"You will return in an hour?" Marie asked.
+
+"Yes; I shall seek the gentlemen, and bring them with me," he graciously
+replied.
+
+"Thanks; I will then await you."
+
+Splittgerber departed, and Marie returned to Ebenstreit who, amazed,
+muttered some unintelligible words, having listened to her mysterious
+conversation with the old book-keeper.
+
+"Now to you, sir!" said she, her whole tone and manner changing to harsh
+command; "the hour for settling our accounts has arrived--the hour that
+I have awaited, purchasing it by four years of torture, self-contempt,
+and despair. This comedy is at an end. I will buy of you my freedom. Do
+you hear me? I will cast off these galley-chains. I will be free!"
+
+"Oh, Marie!" he cried, retreating in terror, "with what fearful
+detestation you regard me!"
+
+"Do you wonder at it? Have I ever concealed this hate from you, or
+ever given you hope to believe that a reconciliation would be possible
+between us?"
+
+"No, truly you have not, but now you will forgive me, for you know how I
+love you, and have provided for your future. You will remain rich, and I
+shall be poor."
+
+Marie regarded him with unspeakable contempt. "You are more despicable
+than I thought you were. You do not deserve forbearance or pity, for you
+are a dishonorable bankrupt, who cares not how much others may suffer,
+provided his future is secured. I will not, however, suffer the name
+which I have borne against my will, to be defamed and become a mark for
+scorn. I will compel you to remain an honest man, and be just to
+your creditors. I propose to pay the bills of exchange, which will be
+presented to you to-day, provided you will consent to my conditions."
+
+"Oh, Marie, you are an angel!" he cried, rushing toward her and kneeling
+at her feet, "I will do all that you wish, and consent to every thing
+you propose."
+
+"Will you swear it?" she coldly replied.
+
+"I swear that I accept your conditions."
+
+"Bring the writing-materials from the window-niche, and seat yourself by
+this table."
+
+Ebenstreit brought them, and seated himself by the Florentine mosaic
+table, near which Marie was standing.
+
+She drew from her pocket a paper, which she unfolded and placed before
+him to sign. "Sign this with your full name, and add, 'With my own free
+will and consent,'" she commandingly ordered him.
+
+"But you will first make known to me the contents?"
+
+"You have sworn to sign it," she said, "and unless you accept my
+conditions, you are welcome to be incarcerated for life in the debtor's
+prison. You have only to choose. If you decide in the negative, I will
+exert myself that your creditors do not free you. I should trust in the
+justice of God having sent you there, and that man in miserable pity
+should not act against His will in freeing you. Now decide; will you
+sign the paper, or go to prison as a dishonorable bankrupt?"
+
+He hastily seized the pen and wrote his name, handing the paper to
+Marie, sighing.
+
+"You have forgotten to add the clause, 'With my own free will and
+consent,'" she replied, hastily glancing at it, letting the paper drop
+like a wilted leaf, and her eyes flashing with scorn.
+
+Ebenstreit saw it, and as he again handed her the paper, he exclaimed,
+"I read in your eyes the intense hate you bear me."
+
+"Yes," she replied, composedly, "not only hate, but scorn. Hush! no
+response. You knew it long before I was forced to stand at the altar
+with you. I warned you not to unite yourself to me, and you had the
+impious audacity to defy me with your riches. The seed of hate which you
+then sowed, you may to-day reap the fruits of. You shall recognize now
+that money is miserable trash, and that when deprived of it you will
+never win sympathy from your so-called friends, but they will turn from
+you with contempt, when you crave their pity or aid."
+
+"I think that you exaggerate, dearest," said Ebenstreit, fawningly. "You
+have many devoted friends among the ladies, and I can well say that I
+have found, among the distinguished gentlemen who visit our house, many
+noble, excellent ones who have met me with a warmth of friendship--"
+
+"Because they would borrow money of the rich man," interrupted Marie.
+
+"Of course my coffers have always been accessible to my dear friends,
+and I prized the honor of proving my friendship by my deeds."
+
+"You will realize to-day how they prove their gratitude to you for it.
+Go, receive the good friends whom you have invited. It is time that they
+were here, and I perceive the carriages are approaching."
+
+Marie motioned to the door, with a dictatorial wave of her hand, and
+Ebenstreit betook himself to the reception-room. Just as he crossed the
+threshold, the usher announced "Herr Gedicke! Ebenstreit greeted him
+hastily in passing, and the old man went on to meet the baroness, who
+was hastening toward him.
+
+"You have most graciously invited me to your house to-day, and you will
+excuse me that my earnest wish to see you has brought me earlier than
+any other guest."
+
+"I begged you to come a quarter of an hour sooner, for I would gladly
+speak with you alone a few moments."
+
+"I thought so, and hastened up here."
+
+"Did not my old Trude go to see you some days since?" asked Marie,
+timidly.
+
+"She did, and you can well understand that I was much affected and
+surprised at her visit. I thought that you had forgotten me, baroness,
+and that every souvenir of the past had fled from your memory. I now
+see that your noble, faithful heart can never forget, and therefore has
+never ceased to suffer, which I ought to regret, for your sake, but for
+my own it pleased me to receive your kind greeting."
+
+Marie pressed her hand to her eyes and sighed audibly. "Pray do not
+speak so gently to me--it enervates me, and I would force myself to
+endure to-day. Only tell me, did Trude communicate to you my wishes, and
+will it be possible for you to fulfil them?"
+
+"Your brave, good friend brought me a thousand dollars, praying me to
+convey this to Herr Moritz in order to defray the expenses of a journey
+to Italy."
+
+"Have you accomplished it, and in such a manner that he does not suspect
+the source from whence it came? He would not receive it if he had the
+least suspicion of it. I have seen him secretly several times as he
+passed to and fro from the Gymnasium, and he appeared to me to grow
+paler and more languid every day."
+
+"It is true that since you have come back he has changed. The old
+melancholy seems to have returned."
+
+"He needs distraction; he must go away and forget me. It has always been
+his earnest wish to travel in Italy. You must tell him that you have
+succeeded in getting the money for him."
+
+"I bethought myself of Moritz's publisher, represented to him how
+necessary it was for the health of Professor Moritz to travel, begged
+of him to order a work upon Italy, and particularly the works of art of
+Rome, and propose to Moritz the acceptance of the money for that object,
+as he was quite too proud to receive it as a present."
+
+"That was an excellent idea," cried Marie. "Has it been accomplished?"
+
+"Yes, as Herr Maurer made the proposal, and Moritz replied, sighing,
+that he had not the means for such a journey, the publisher immediately
+offered him half of the remuneration in advance; consequently he starts
+to-morrow for Italy, unknowing of the thousand dollars being your
+gift." [Footnote: This work, which was published after his return, still
+excites the highest interest, and is entitled "Travels of a German in
+Italy during 1786 and 1787.--Letters of Philip Carl Moritz," 8 vols.,
+Berlin, published by Frederick Maurer.]
+
+"How much I thank you!" she joyfully cried. "Moritz is saved; he
+will now recover, and forget all his grief in studying the objects of
+interest in the Eternal City."
+
+"Do you really believe that?" asked Herr Gedicke. "Were you not also in
+Italy?"
+
+"I was indeed there two years, but it was very different with me. It is
+difficult to forget you are a slave, when listening all the while to the
+clanking of your chains."
+
+"My poor child, I read with sorrow the history of the past years in
+your grief-stricken face. It is the first time we have met since your
+marriage."
+
+"See what these years have made of me!--a miserable wife, whom the world
+esteems, but who recoils from herself. My heart has changed to stone,
+and I feel metamorphosed. The sight of you recalls that fearful hour,
+melting my heart and causing the tears to flow. At that time you blessed
+me, my friend and father. Oh, grant me your blessing again in this hour
+of sorrow! I implore you for it, before an important decision! I long
+for the sympathy of a noble soul!"
+
+"I know not, my child, with what grief this hour may be laden for you;
+but I lay my hand again upon your head, imploring God in His divine
+mercy to sustain you!"
+
+"Countess von Moltke and Frau von Morien!" announced the usher. In
+brilliant toilets the ladies rustled in, hastening toward the baroness,
+who had now regained her wonted composure, and received them in her
+usual stately manner.
+
+"How perfectly charming you look to-night!" cried Countess Moltke. "To
+me you are ever the impersonation of the goddess of wealth and beauty
+strewing everywhere with lavish generosity your gifts, and turning every
+thing to gold with your touch."
+
+"But whose heart has remained tender and gentle," added Frau von
+Morien.--"You are indeed a goddess, always enhancing the pleasures of
+others. To-day I wear the beautiful bracelet which you sent me because I
+admired it."
+
+"And I, ma toute belle," cried the countess, "have adorned myself with
+this superb gold brocade which you so kindly had sent from Paris for
+me."
+
+"You have forgotten, countess, that you begged of me to give the order
+for you."
+
+"Ah, that is true! Then I am your debtor."
+
+"If you are not too proud to receive it as a present?"
+
+"Oh, most certainly not; on the contrary, I thank you, my dear.--Tell
+me, my dear Morien, is not this woman an angel?"
+
+At this instant the French ambassador, Marquis Treves, appeared among
+the numerous guests, whom the baroness stepped quickly forward to
+welcome, withdrawing with him into the window-niche.
+
+"Welcome, marquis," she said, quickly, in a low voice, "Have you brought
+me the promised papers?"
+
+Drawing a sealed packet from his coat-pocket, he handed it to the
+baroness with a low bow, saying: "I would draw your attention to the
+fact once more, dear madam, that I have abided by the price named by
+yourself, in making this sale, although I am still of the opinion that
+it is below its value."
+
+"The sum is sufficient for my wants, and I rated its value according as
+it is taxed."
+
+"There are a hundred thousand dollars in bills of exchange, payable at
+the French embassy at any moment," said the marquis.
+
+"I thank you, sir, for this proof of friendly attention; and as it
+may be the last time we meet, I would assure you that I shall always
+remember your many and thoughtful kindnesses."
+
+"You speak, baroness, as if you would forsake the circle of which you
+are the brightest ornament."
+
+"No, the friends will forsake me," she replied, with a peculiar smile.
+"Ere an hour shall pass not one of all these numerous guests will remain
+here.--Ah, there comes the decision! See there, marquis!"
+
+The usher announced "Banker Splittgerber." The old man entered followed
+by two men of not very presentable appearance, and whose toilet was
+but little in keeping with the brilliantly-decorated room and the
+aristocratic guests.
+
+Never heeding the sneers nor contemptuous smiles, the faithful
+book-keeper wound his way, through the crowd of elegantly dressed ladies
+and gentlemen, accompanied by the two men, up to Ebenstreit, who, with
+instinctive politeness, had placed himself near Marie.
+
+"Gentlemen," said Splittgerber, in a loud voice, "this is Baron
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen, principal of the banking-house Ludwig."
+
+The two gentlemen approached, one of them saying, "They sent us here
+from your office."
+
+"This is not the place for business," replied Ebenstreit. "Follow me!"
+
+"No, gentlemen, remain here," cried Marie. "Our guests present are such
+intimate, devoted friends that we have nothing to conceal from them;
+but on the contrary, I am convinced they will only be too happy of the
+occasion to prove their friendship, of which they have so often assured
+us.--These gentlemen demand the payment of a bill of exchange for eighty
+thousand dollars. Take my portfolio, Ebenstreit; there is a pencil in
+it. Go around and make a collection; undoubtedly the entire sum will be
+soon noted down."
+
+Ebenstreit approached the Baron von Frankenstein, saying: "Pardon me
+if I recall to your memory the sum of one thousand louis d'ors, due for
+four black horses three months since."
+
+"My dear sir," cried the baron, "this is a strange manner to collect
+one's debts. We were invited to a feast, and a pistol is pointed at us,
+demanding our debts to be cancelled!"
+
+"How strange! How ridiculous!" heard one here and there among the
+guests, as they, with one accord, pressed toward the door to make their
+exit, which they found fastened.
+
+"Remain," cried Marie, with stately dignity. "I wish you honored guests
+to be witness of this scene in the hour of justification, as you were
+also present at the one when one of the noblest and best of men cursed
+me.--Banker Splittgerber, take these bills of exchange for one hundred
+thousand dollars. Pay these gentlemen, and devote the remainder to the
+other debts as far as it will go."
+
+As the three men withdrew by a side-drier, Marie exclaimed: "I will now
+explain to you that Baron von Leuthen is ruined--poor as a beggar when
+he will not work."
+
+"Marie," cried Ebenstreit, terrified, rushing toward her, and seizing
+her by the arm. "Marie--"
+
+She threw off his hand from her in anger. "Do not touch me, sir, and do
+not presume either to address me with any endearments. You have yourself
+said that our marriage was not a veritable one, but was like the union
+of associates in business, and now I would inform you it is dissolved:
+the one is a bankrupt; the other a woman whom you cursed, and who
+reclaims of you four years of shame and degradation. You wonder at my
+speaking thus, but you do not know this man, my friends."
+
+As she spoke, a door opened at the farther end of the room, and Trude
+entered in her simple dress, followed by Philip Moritz. Unobserved
+the two glided behind the charming grotto which had been arranged with
+flowers and wreaths in one of the niches. Every eye was turned upon the
+pale, stately beauty, erect in the centre of the room.
+
+"Stay here, for no one can see us," whispered Trude. "I could not bear
+to have you leave Berlin without hearing the justification of my dear
+Marie, and may God pardon me for letting you come here unbeknown to her!
+Listen, and pray to Him to forgive you the great injustice that you have
+done her. Be quiet, that no one may see you, and Marie be angry with her
+old Trude."
+
+"Yes," continued Marie, with chilling contempt, "you should know this
+man before whom you have all bowed, pressed the hand, and called your
+friend, because he was rich, and, thanks to his wealth alone, became a
+titled man--a baron, buying the hand of a poor but noble maiden, whom he
+knew despised him, and passionately loved another, having sworn eternal
+constancy to him. I am that young girl. I begged, nay implored him,
+not to pursue me, but he was void of pity, mocked my tears, and said
+he could buy my love, and my heart would at last be touched by the
+influence of his wealth. I should have preferred to die, but Fate
+ordered that the one I loved, by my fault, should by imprisonment atone
+our brief dream of bliss. I could only save him by accepting this man;
+these were the conditions. I became his wife before the world, and took
+my oath in his presence to revenge myself, and after four years I
+shall accomplish it. I have spent his money, and of the rich man made a
+beggar. God be praised, I can now revenge myself in freeing myself!"
+
+"Free yourself? It is not true! You are my wife still," replied
+Ebenstreit, alarmed.
+
+A radiant smile flitted over Marie's face as she defied Ebenstreit
+with the law of the Great Frederick, who had decided that every unhappy
+couple without offspring could separate by their own free will and
+consent, having signed a paper to that effect.
+
+"Is that the paper which you have made me sign?" cried Ebenstreit,
+alarmed.
+
+"Yes, drawn up by my notary, and both of our names are signed to it."
+
+"It is a fraud!" cried Ebenstreit. "I will protest against it."
+
+"Do it, and you will find it a vain effort. I promised to pay your debt
+if you would put your name to the document then placed before you, which
+you did. Ask the Marquis Treves how I paid your debts: he will answer
+you that he has given me the money."
+
+"I had the honor to pay to the baroness one hundred thousand dollars, as
+she rightly informs you."
+
+"Yes," continued Marie, "the marquis is the present possessor of this
+house and all that it contains--furniture, statues, and pictures; also
+the equipages and silver. To my mother I sent my diamonds, costly laces,
+and dresses, to indemnify her for the annuity which Herr von Ebenstreit
+settled upon her as purchase-money which he cannot pay, now that he is
+ruined."
+
+"Marquis," cried Ebenstreit, pale with anger, "have you really bought
+this house and its contents?"
+
+"I have done so, and the one hundred thousand dollars the baroness has
+paid over to Herr Splittgerber."
+
+"Oh! I am ruined," groaned Ebenstreit--"I am lost!" and, covering his
+face with his hands, he rushed from the room.
+
+Marie gazed at him with a sad expression, saying: "Ladies and gentlemen,
+you now know to whom this house belongs. You can no longer say that I am
+the daughter whom the late General von Leuthen sold to a rich man. I am
+free!"
+
+At this moment a side-door opened, and Frau von Leuthen was heard saying
+to old Trude: "Let me in! it is in vain to hold me back. I will have
+an explanation from my daughter, and learn what all this means." As
+she pushed herself into the room, she exclaimed: "Ah, it is a fete day!
+There is the baroness in all her glory and splendor. She is not crazed,
+as I feared this morning, when she sent me all her ornaments and fine
+dresses and laces, with a note, sealed with black, inscribed upon it,
+'Will Of the Baroness Ebenstreit von Leuthen.' I opened it, and read: 'I
+give to my mother my precious ornaments, laces, and dresses, to secure
+to her the pension which she has lost.--Marie. 'I came here to learn if
+my daughter were dead, and what the conclusion of this lost pension may
+be, and I find--"
+
+"You find the confirmation of all that I wrote to you," replied Marie,
+coldly. "Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen is ruined. I have secured to you,
+in the sum which my jewels and laces will bring you, the annuity, so
+that you have not lost the money promised you for your daughter, and the
+marriage you have arranged has at least borne good fruit to you."
+
+"You are a cruel, ungrateful child," cried the mother. "I have long
+known it, and rejected you from my heart, and from all shame I will
+yet protect the name you bear. I have just seen a sign in the
+Friedrich-strasse, 'Flower manufactory of Marie von Leuthen.' What does
+this mean? Terrified, I stared speechless at these fearful words, and at
+the busy workmen preparing the house."
+
+"I will explain it to you," cried Marie, with radiant mien. "I have
+again become the flower-maker, and beg your favor, Countess von Moltke,
+Frau von Morien, and all the other ladies. I am free, and no longer the
+wife of a hated husband--no longer the distinguished and wealthy woman.
+All delusion and mockery have vanished. The costly dress and jewels that
+I now wear I will cast of from me as the last souvenir of the past."
+
+Unclasping the diamond necklace and bracelets, she handed them to her
+mother, saying: "Take them, and also this dress, the last finery I
+possess." She unloosed the band, and the long white satin train fell
+at her feet. Emerging from it as from a silvery cloud, she stood before
+them in a simple white dress, as she was clothed in her girlhood. "Take
+them all," she joyfully cried. "Take them, mother, it is all past. I
+am now myself again. Farewell, witnesses of this scene! I now quit your
+circle; and you, my mother, I forgive you; may the thoughts of your
+unhappy child never trouble you, waking or sleeping; may you forget that
+your daughter lives, and is wretched. Revenge has not softened my grief,
+or removed your curse from my head!"
+
+"I will lift it off your brow, Marie!" cried Moritz, suddenly appearing
+from the window-niche, with beaming face and outstretched arms,
+approaching Marie, whom surprised and alarmed, retreated. "Oh, noble,
+courageous woman, forgive me that I have been an unbidden witness to
+this scene, though by this means I now clearly recognize your strength
+of mind, and elevation of soul, and the wrong that I have committed in
+doubting and cursing you during these four years of gloom and despair. I
+bow before you, Marie, and implore you, upon my knees, to forgive me
+all the cruel, harsh words that I have uttered--that I have dared as
+a wretched fool to doubt you in this long night of despair. The day is
+dawning again upon us; a new sun will yet cheer us with its rays. Do not
+turn from me, but look at me, and grant me forgiveness.--My dear friend
+and father, speak for me, for you know what I have suffered. Beg of her
+to forgive me."
+
+"Marie," said the venerable old man, approaching her, gently putting
+his arm around her, "God has willed that you, my poor, long-tried child,
+should pass through a season of extreme sorrow. You are now released,
+and all that belonged to you has vanished!"
+
+As he spoke, he signed to the guests to withdraw. Many had already
+escaped the painful scene by the side-door. Marie was now alone in the
+magnificent apartment, with Herr Gedicke and Moritz. She still stood,
+with concealed face, in the centre of the room.
+
+"Oh, Marie," implored Moritz, "hide not your dear face from me! Read in
+mine the deep grief of the past and the bliss of the future. I thank
+God that this unnatural union is severed, and that you are free. Be
+courageous to the end!" Moritz impetuously drew her hand away, revealing
+her tearful countenance, as her head sank upon his shoulder. "Can
+you not forgive me, Marie?" he cried, with deep emotion. "We have both
+wandered through a waste of grief, and now approach life radiant with
+happiness. Oh, speak to me, Marie; can you not love me and forgive me?"
+
+She gazed into his eyes, and in their depths read that which gradually
+softened her hardened features, and caused a smile to play upon her lip.
+"I love you dearly, devotedly; let this be our parting word. Go forth
+into the world, Moritz; my affection will follow you whithersoever you
+wander, and my soul will be true to you through all eternity, though we
+are forever separated. The poor wife, with her dismal retrospections,
+must not cast a shadow upon your future. Go, my beloved--Italy awaits
+you, and art will console you!"
+
+"Follow me, dear Marie; only by your side am I happy. You are free and
+independent," cried Moritz.
+
+"Oh, father," cried Marie, leaning upon the venerable old man, "explain
+to him that I am still the wife of that hated man!"
+
+"She is right, Philip; do not urge her further. She must first be
+legally separated, and this weary heart must have time to recover its
+wonted calm. Go to Italy, and confide your future and happiness to my
+care. Marie has lost a mother, but she shall find a father in me. I will
+watch over her until your return."
+
+Just then the door opened, and Trude entered. "Every thing is ready; all
+the things which used to stand in the little garret-room are packed and
+sent to the manufactory. Shall we go, too, dear child?"
+
+"Yes," she cried, embracing the faithful old woman. "Farewell,
+Philip--Italy calls you!"
+
+"I will go, but when I return will you not be my wife?"
+
+Marie gazed at Moritz, radiant with happiness, saying: "The answer is
+engraven upon my heart. Return, and then I will joyfully respond to your
+love before God and man!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Old Fritz and the New Era, by Louise Muhlbach
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+Project Gutenberg Etext of Old Fritz and the New Era, by Muhlbach
+#4 in our series by Louise Muhlbach
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+Title: Old Fritz and the New Era
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+Author: Louise Muhlbach
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+Official Release Date: October, 2002  [Etext #3460]
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+
+
+OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA
+
+L. MUHLBACH
+
+
+
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY PETER LANGLEY
+
+
+
+
+BOOK I.
+
+OLD FRITZ.
+
+I. The Lonely King
+
+II. Wilhelmine Enke
+
+III. Frederick William
+
+IV. The Drive to Berlin
+
+V. The Oath of Fidelity
+
+VI. The Parade
+
+VII. The Miraculous Elixir
+
+VIII. The Golden Rain
+
+IX. German Literature and the King
+
+
+
+
+BOOK II.
+
+ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES.
+
+X. Goethe in Berlin
+
+XI. The Inner and the Middle Temple
+
+XII. The Jesuit General
+
+XIII. A Pensioned General
+
+XIV. The King's Letter
+
+XV. Hate and Love
+
+XVI. Charles Augustus and Goethe
+
+XVII. Goethe's Visits
+
+XVIII. Farewell to Berlin
+
+
+
+
+BOOK III.
+
+STORM AND PRESSURE.
+
+XIX. The King and the Austrian Diplomat
+
+XX. The King and the Lover
+
+XXI. In Weimar
+
+XXII. The Reading
+
+XXIII. Witchcraft
+
+XXIV. The Purse-Proud Man
+
+XXV. The Elopement
+
+XXVI. Under the Starry Heavens
+
+XXVII. The Sacrifice
+
+
+
+
+BOOK IV.
+
+THE VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES.
+
+XXVIII. Old Fritz
+
+XXIX. Cagliostro's Return
+
+XXX. The Triumvirate
+
+XXXI. Future Plans
+
+XXXII. Miracles and Spirits
+
+XXXIII. The Return Home
+
+XXXIV. Behind the Mask
+
+XXXV. The Curse
+
+XXXVI. The King and the Rosicrucians
+
+XXXVII. The Espousals
+
+XXXVIII. Revenge Fulfilled
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+I would merely say a few words in justification of the Historical
+Romance, in its relation to history. Any one, with no preceding
+profound study of history, who takes a few well-known historical
+facts as a foundation for an airy castle of romantic invention and
+fantastic adventure, may easily write an Historical Romance; for him
+history is only the nude manikin which he clothes and adorns
+according to his own taste, and to which he gives the place and
+position most agreeable to himself. But only the writer who is in
+earnest with respect to historical truth, who is not impelled by
+levity or conceited presumption, is justified in attempting this
+species of composition; thoroughly impressed with the greatness of
+his undertaking, he will with modest humility constantly remember
+that he has proposed to himself a great and sublime work which,
+however, it will be difficult if not impossible for him wholly and
+completely to accomplish.
+
+But what is this great, this sublime end, which the Historical
+Romance writer proposes to attain? It is this: to illustrate
+history, to popularize it; to bring forth from the silent studio of
+the scholar and to expose in the public market of life, for the
+common good, the great men and great deeds embalmed in history, and
+of which only the studious have hitherto enjoyed the monopoly. Thus,
+at least, have I considered the vocation I have chosen, not vainly
+or inconsiderately, but with a profound conviction of the greatness
+of my undertaking, and with a depressing consciousness that my power
+and acquirements may prove inadequate for the attainment of my
+proposed end.
+
+But I am also fully conscious of what was and still is my greatest
+desire: to give an agreeable and popular form to our national
+history, which may attract the attention and affections of our
+people, which may open their understandings to the tendencies of
+political movements, and connect the facts of history with the
+events of actual life.
+
+The severe historian has to do but with accomplished facts; he can
+only record and describe, with the strictest regard to truth, that
+which has outwardly occurred. He describes the battles of peoples,
+the struggles of nations, the great deeds of heroes, the actions of
+princes--in short, he gives the accomplished facts. To investigate
+and explain the secret motives, the hidden causes of these facts, to
+present them in connection with all that impelled to them, this is
+the task of Historical Romance.
+
+The historian presents to you the outward face, the external form of
+history; Historical Romance would show you the heart of history, and
+thus bring near to your heart what, else, would stand so far off. To
+enable him to do this, the writer of an Historical Romance must,
+indeed, make severe and various studies. He must devote his whole
+mind and soul to the epoch he would illustrate, he must live in it
+and feel with it. He must so familiarize himself with all the
+details, as in a manner to become a child of that epoch; for he can
+present a really living image of only that which is living in
+himself. That this requires a deep and earnest study of history is
+self-evident. Historical Romance demands the study of the historian,
+together with the creative imagination of the poet. For the free
+embodiment of the poet can blossom only from out the studio of the
+historian, as the flower from the seed; as, by a reciprocal organic
+action, the hyacinth is derived from the onion, and the rose from
+its seed-capsule, so are history and poetry combined in the
+Historical Romance, giving and receiving life to and from each
+other.
+
+The Historical Romance has its great task and its great
+justification--a truth disputed by only those who either have not
+understood or will not understand its nature.
+
+The Historical Romance has, if I may be allowed so to speak, four
+several objects for which to strive:
+
+Its first object is, to throw light upon the dark places of history,
+necessarily left unclear by the historian. Poetry has the right and
+duty of setting facts in a clear light, and of illuminating the
+darkness by its sunny beams. The poetry of the romance writer seeks
+to deduce historical characteristics from historical facts, and to
+draw from the spirit of history an elucidation of historical
+characters, so that the writer may be able to detect their inmost
+thoughts and feelings, and in just and sharp traits to communicate
+them to others.
+
+The second task of Historical Romance is, to group historical
+characters according to their internal natures, and thus to
+elucidate and illustrate history. This illustration then leads to
+the third task, which is the discovery and exposition of the motives
+which impel individual historical personages to the performance of
+great historical acts, and from outwardly, apparently insignificant
+events in their lives to deduce their inmost thoughts and natures,
+and represent them clearly to others.
+
+Thence follows the fourth task: the illustration of historical facts
+by a romance constructed in the spirit of the history. This fourth
+and principal task is the presentation of history in a dramatic form
+and with animated descriptions; upon the foundation of history to
+erect the temple of poesy, which must nevertheless be pervaded and
+illuminated by historic truth. From this it naturally follows that
+it is of very little consequence whether the personages of the
+Historical Romance actually spoke the words or performed the acts
+attributed to them; it is only necessary that those words and deeds
+should be in accordance with the spirit and character of such
+historical personages, and that the writer should not attribute to
+them what they could not have spoken or done. In the Historical
+Romance, when circumstances or events are presented in accordance
+with historical tradition, when the characters are naturally
+described, they bear with them their own justification, and
+Historical Romance has need of no further defence.
+
+Historical Romance should be nothing but an illustration of history.
+If the drawing, grouping, coloring, and style of such an
+illustration of any given historical epoch are admitted to be true,
+then the illustration rises to the elevation of a work of art,
+worthy of a place beside the historical picture, and is equally
+useful.
+
+Raphael's "School of Athens," his "Institution of the Communion,"
+and many others of his pictures, are such illustrations of history--
+as also the great paintings of Rubens from the life of Anna dei
+Medici; and then the historical pictures of Horace Vernet, of
+Delaroche, of Lessing, and of Kaulbach--all these are illustrations
+of history. What those artists present and illustrate with paint and
+pencil, the Historical Romancer represents in words with his pen;
+and when he does this successfully, he will live in the memory of
+his reader as imperishably as the great historical pictures of the
+painters in the memory of their beholders.
+
+It would occur to no one to accuse a successful historical picture
+of falsehood, because the books of history do not show that the
+occurrence took place precisely in the manner represented, that the
+historical personages really so laughed or wept, or so deported
+themselves. If the situation and grouping of historical events are
+allowed to be in accordance with the general tenor of history, then
+the picture may be pronounced historically true, and is just as good
+a piece of history as the record of the special historian. It is the
+same with the pictures of the romancer as with those of the painter;
+and this is my answer to those who, on every occasion, are
+continually asking: "Was it really thus? Did it really occur in that
+manner?"
+
+Show me from history that it could not be so; that it is not in
+accordance with the character of the persons represented--then I
+will confess that I am wrong, and you are right; then have I not
+presented an illustration, but only a caricature of history, faulty
+as a work of art, and wanting the dignity of truth.
+
+I am conscious of having earnestly and devotedly striven for the
+truth, and of having diligently sought it in all attainable
+historical works. The author of an Historical Romance has before him
+a difficult task: while he must falsify nothing in history, he must
+poetize it in a manner that both historical and poetic truth shall
+be the result. To those, however, who so very severely judge
+Historical Romance, and would deny its historical worth, I now, in
+conclusion, answer with the following significant quotation from
+Schiller:
+
+"I shall always prove a bad resource for any future historian who
+may have the misfortune to recur to me. History is generally only a
+magazine for my fantasy, and objects must be contented with whatever
+they may become under my hand."--(See Weisnar's "Musenhof," p. 93.)
+
+This declaration of Schiller satisfies me with respect to the nature
+of my own creations. I desire not to be a resource for historical
+writers, but I shall always earnestly and zealously seek to draw
+from the wells of history, that nothing false or unreal may find a
+place in the "magazine of my fantasy."
+
+CLARA MUNDT,
+
+(L. MUEHLBACH. )
+
+BERLIN, September 22, 1866.
+
+
+
+
+
+OLD FRITZ AND THE NEW ERA.
+
+
+BOOK I.
+
+OLD FRITZ.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE LONELY KING.
+
+
+"Well, so let it be!" said the king, sighing, as he rose from his
+arm-chair; "I must go forth to the strife, and these old limbs must
+again submit to the fatigue of war. But what matters it? The life of
+princes is passed in the fulfilment of duties and responsibilities,
+and rarely is it gladdened with the sunny rays of joy and peace! Let
+us submit!
+
+"Yes, let us submit!" repeated the king, thoughtfully, slowly pacing
+his cabinet back and forth, his hands folded upon his staff behind
+him, and his favorite dog, Alkmene, sleepily following him.
+
+It was a melancholy picture to see this bowed-down old man; his
+thin, pale face shaded by a worn-out, three-cornered hat, his dirty
+uniform strewn with snuff; and his meagre legs encased in high-
+topped, unpolished boots; his only companion a greyhound, old and
+joyless as his master. Neither the bust of Voltaire, with its
+beaming, intelligent face, nor those of his friends, Lord-Marshal
+Keith and the Marquis d'Argens, could win an affectionate glance
+from the lonely old king. He whom Europe distinguished as the Great
+Frederick, whom his subjects called their "father and benefactor,"
+whose name was worthy to shine among the brightest stars of heaven,
+his pale, thin lips just murmured, "Resignation!"
+
+With downcast eyes he paced his cabinet, murmuring, "Let us submit!"
+He would not look up to those who were gazing down upon him from the
+walls--to those who were no more. The remembrance of them unnerved
+him, and filled his heart with grief. The experiences of life, and
+the ingratitude of men, had left many a scar upon this royal heart,
+but had never hardened it; it was still overflowing with tender
+sympathy and cherished memories. To Lord-Marshal Keith, Marquis
+d'Argens, and Voltaire, Frederick owed the happiest years of his
+life.
+
+D'Argens, who passionately loved Frederick, had been dead five
+years; Lord-Marshal Keith one month; and Voltaire was dying! This
+intelligence the king had received that very morning, from his Paris
+correspondent, Grimm. It was this that filled his heart with
+mourning. The face, that smiled so full of intelligence, was perhaps
+distorted with agony, and those beaming eyes were now closing in
+death!
+
+Voltaire was dying!
+
+Frederick's thoughts were with the dead and dying--with the past! He
+recalled, when crown prince at Rheinsberg, how much he had admired,
+loved, and distinguished Voltaire; how he rejoiced, and how honored
+he felt, when, as a young king, Voltaire yielded to his request to
+live with him at Berlin. This intimacy, it is true, did not long
+continue; the king was forced to recognize, with bitter regret, that
+the MAN Voltaire was not worthy the love which he bestowed upon the
+POET. He renounced the MAN, but the poet was still his admiration;
+and all the perfidy, slander and malice of Voltaire, had never
+changed Frederick. The remembrance of it had long since faded from
+his noble heart--only the memory of the poet, of the author of so
+many hours of the purest enjoyment, remained.
+
+Voltaire was dying!
+
+This great and powerful spirit, who so long a time, in the natural
+body, had instructed, inspired, and refreshed mankind, would leave
+that body to rise--whither?
+
+"Immortality, what art thou?" asked the king, aloud, and for the
+first time raising his eyes with an inquiring glance to the busts of
+his friends. "I have sought for thee, I have toiled for thee, my
+whole life long! Neither the researches of the learned, nor the
+subtleties of philosophy reveal thee to me. Is there any other
+immortality than fame? Any other eternal life than that which the
+memory of succeeding generations grants to the dead?" In this tone
+of thought Frederick recited, audibly, the conclusion of a poem,
+which he had addressed to D'Alembert:
+
+"I have consecrated my days to philosophy, I admit all the innocent
+pleasures of life; And knowing that soon my course will finish, I
+enjoy the present with fear of the future. What is there to fear
+after death? If the body and the mind suffer the same fate, I shall
+return and mingle with nature; If a remnant of my intellectual fire
+escapes death, I will flee to the arms of my God." [Footnote:
+Posthumous works, vol. vii., p.88.]
+
+"And may this soon be granted me!" continued the king; "then I shall
+be reunited to those loved ones--gone before. I must be content to
+tarry awhile in this earthly vale of sorrow, and finish the task
+assigned me by the Great Teacher; therefore, let us submit."
+
+He sighed; pacing to and fro, his steps were arrested at a side-
+table, where lay a long black velvet box; it contained the flute
+that his beloved teacher, Quantz, had made for him. Frederick had
+always kept it in his cabinet as a memento of his lost friend; as
+this room he had devoted to a temple of Memory--of the past!
+
+"Another of the joys, another of the stars of my life vanished!"
+murmured the king. "My charming concerts are at an end! Quantz,
+Brenda, and my glorious Graun are no more. While they are listening
+to the heavenly choir, I must be content with the miserable, idle
+chatter of men; the thunder of battle deafening my ears, to which
+that mad, ambitious Emperor of Austria hopes to force me!"
+
+As the king thus soliloquized, he involuntarily drew from the box
+the beautiful ebony flute, exquisitely ornamented with silver. A
+smile played around his delicate mouth. He raised the flute to his
+lips, and a melancholy strain floated through the stillness--the
+king's requiem to the dead, his farewell to the dying!
+
+No sound of the outer world penetrated that lonely room. The guard
+of honor, on duty upon the Sans-Souci terrace, halted suddenly, as
+the sad music fell upon his ear. The fresh spring breeze swept
+through the trees, and drove the laden-blossomed elder-bushes
+tapping against the windowpanes, as if to offer a May-greeting to
+the lonely king. The servant in waiting stole on tiptoe to the door
+of the anteroom, listening breathlessly at the key-hole to the
+moving melody.
+
+Even Alkmene suddenly raised her head as if something unusual were
+taking place, fixed her great eyes upon her master, jumping upon his
+knee, and resting her fore-paws lovingly upon his breast.
+
+Frederick neither observed nor felt the movement of his favorite;
+his thoughts were absent from the present--absent from the earth!
+They were wandering in the unknown future, with the spirits of those
+he longed to see again in the Elysian fields.
+
+The wailing music of his flute expressed the lamentation of his
+soul, and his eyes filled with tears as he raised them to the bust
+of Voltaire, gazing at it with a look of pain until the melody was
+finished. Then abruptly turning, half unwillingly, half angrily, he
+returned the flute to the box, and stole away, covering his face
+with his hands, as if to hide his emotion from himself.
+
+"Now we have finished with the dead, and the living claim our
+thoughts," sighed the king. "What an absurd thing is the human
+heart! It will never grow cold or old; always pretending to a spark
+of the fire which that shameful fellow Prometheus stole from the
+gods. What an absurdity! What have I, an old fellow, to do with the
+fire of Prometheus, when the fire of war will soon rage around me,"
+At this instant the door gently opened. "What do you want, Muller?
+What do you poke your stupid face in here for?" said the king.
+
+"Pardon me, your majesty," replied the footman, "the Baron von Arnim
+begs for an audience."
+
+"Bid him enter," commanded the king, sinking back in his old, faded
+velvet arm-chair. Resting his chin upon his staff, he signed to the
+baron, who stood bowing upon the threshold, to approach. "Well,
+Arnim, what is the matter? What papers have you there?"
+
+"Sire," answered Baron von Arnim, "the contract of the French
+actors, which needs renewing, I have to lay before your majesty;
+also a paper, received yesterday, from Madame Mara; still another
+from the singer Conciliani, and a petition from four persons from
+the opera."
+
+"What stupid stuff!" growled the king, at the same time bestowing a
+caress upon Alkmene. "Commence with your report. Let us hear what
+those singers are now asking for."
+
+"The singer Conciliani has addressed a heart-breaking letter to your
+majesty, and prays for an increase of salary--that it is impossible
+for him to live upon three thousand dollars."
+
+"Ah! that is what is wanted?" cried the king, furious, and striking
+his staff upon the floor. "The fellow is mad; When he cannot live
+upon three thousand, he will not be able to live upon four. I want
+money for cannon. I cannot spend it for such nonsense. I am
+surprised, Von Arnim that you repeat such stuff to me."
+
+"Your majesty, it is my duty that I--"
+
+"What! Your duty is not to flatter them. I pay them to give me
+pleasure, not presumption. Remember, once for all, do not flatter
+them. Conciliani will get no increase of salary. If he persists, let
+him go to the mischief! This is my decision.--Proceed! What is
+Madame Mara begging for?"
+
+"Madame Mara constantly refuses to sing the airs which your majesty
+commanded to be introduced into the opera of 'Coriolanus.' She has
+taken the liberty to address you in writing; here is the letter, if
+your majesty will have the grace to read it."
+
+"By no means, sir, by no means!" cried the king; at the same instant
+catching the paper with his staff, he slung it like a shot arrow to
+the farthest corner of the room, to the great amusement of Alkmene,
+who, with a loud bark, sprang from her master's knee, and with a
+bound caught the strange bird, and tore it in pieces. "You are
+right, my pet," said the king, laughing, "you have written my answer
+with your nose to this arrogant person. Director, say to Madame Mara
+that I pay her to sing, not to write. She must sing both airs, or
+she may find herself at Spandau for her obstinacy, where her husband
+is, for the same reason. She can reflect, and judge for herself."
+
+The director could scarcely repress a sigh, foreboding the
+disagreeable scene that he would have to encounter with the proud
+and passionate singer. Timidly Von Arnim alluded to the four persons
+from the opera. "Who are these demoiselles, and what do they want?"
+asked the king.
+
+"Sire," replied the Baron von Arnim, "they are the four persons who
+personate the role of court ladies and maids of honor to the queens
+and princesses. They beg your majesty to secure to them a fixed
+income."
+
+"Indeed! Go to my writing-table and bring paper and pencil; I will
+dictate a reply to them," said the king. "Now write, Von Arnim: 'To
+the four court ladies and maids of honor of the opera: You are
+mistaken in addressing yourselves to me; the affair of your salaries
+concerns YOUR emperors and kings. To them you must address
+yourselves.--Adieu.'"
+
+Von Arnim could scarcely repress a smile.
+
+"Now we come to the last affair--the salaries and pensions of the
+French actors," said the king; "but first tell me the news in
+Berlin--what report has trumpeted forth in the last few days."
+
+"Your majesty, the latest news in Berlin, which rumor brings home to
+every hearth-side and every heart is, that your majesty has declared
+war with Austria on account of the Bavarian succession. Every one
+rejoices, sire, that you will humble that proud and supercilious
+house of Austria, and enter the lists for Germany."
+
+"Listen!" answered the king, sternly. "I did not ask you to blow the
+trumpet of praise, as if your honor, inspector of the theatres,
+thought yourself upon the stage, and would commence a comedy with
+the king of lamps. So it is known then that my soldiers will enter
+the great theatre of war, and that we are about to fight real
+battles."
+
+"It is known, sire," replied Von Arnim, bowing.
+
+"Then what I am about to communicate to you will not surprise you.
+The present juncture of affairs leads us to await very grave scenes-
+-we can well dispense with comedy. I withdraw the salaries and
+pensions of the French actors--your own is included. After you have
+dismissed the French comedians, you will be entirely at leisure to
+pursue your love-intrigues.--Farewell!"
+
+"Your majesty," cried the baron, amazed, "has your highness
+dismissed me?"
+
+"Are you deaf, or have you some of the cotton in your ears which I
+presented to you at your recall from Copenhagen?" replied the king.
+[Footnote: Baron von Arnim was ambassador to Copenhagen until 1754,
+when he begged for his recall, stating that the damp climate was
+injurious to his health. The king granted his request, and the baron
+returned to Berlin. At the first audience with the king, Frederick
+handed Baron von Arnim a carefully-packed box, saying, "I do not
+wish the government to lose so valuable a servant; in this box you
+will find something that will keep you warm." Arnim could scarcely
+await his return home, to open the box; it contained nothing but
+cotton. Some days afterward, however, the king increased Von Arnim's
+income a thousand dollars, and sent him ambassador to Dresden. Von
+Arnim was afterward director of the Royal Theatre until dismissed in
+the above manner.]
+
+"Sire, I have heard all, but I cannot believe it."
+
+"Yes, yes," interrupted the king, "To believe is difficult; you, I
+presume, never belonged to the pious and believing. Your intrigues
+would not admit of it; but now you have the leisure to pursue them
+with a right good-will. You have only to discharge, as I have said,
+the entire French troupe, and the whole thing is done with.--Adieu,
+Arnim, may you be prospered!"
+
+Baron von Arnim muttered some incomprehensible words, and retreated
+from the royal presence. The door had scarcely closed, when it was
+again opened without ceremony by a young man, wearing a gold-laced
+dress.
+
+"Your majesty," said he, hastily, in an undertone, "your majesty,
+she has just gone to the Palace Park, just the same hour she went
+yesterday."
+
+"Is she alone?" asked the king, rising.
+
+"No, she is not alone; at a little distance the nurse follows with
+the princely infant!"
+
+The king cast an angry glance at the saucy, laughing face of the
+young man, who at once assumed a devoted, earnest mien. "Has your
+majesty any further commands?" asked he, timidly.
+
+"I command you to hold your tongue until you are spoken to!" replied
+the king, harshly. "You understand spying and hanging about, as you
+have good ears, a quick eye, and a keen scent. I therefore make use
+of you, because I need a spy; but, understand that a fellow who
+allows himself to be used as a spy, is, indeed, a useful subject,
+but generally a worthless one, and to whom it is becoming to be
+modest and humble. I am now going to Berlin; you will accompany me.
+Take off your finery, so that every one may not recognize at once
+the peacock by his feathers. Go to the taverns and listen to what
+they say about the war; whether the people are much dissatisfied
+about it. Keep your great ears wide open, and bring me this evening
+all the latest news. Go, now, tell my coachman to be ready; in half
+an hour I shall set off."
+
+The young man slunk away to the door, but stood without opening it,
+his head down, and his under-lip hanging out.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the king, in a milder tone, "why do you
+not go, Kretzschmar?"
+
+"I cannot go away if your majesty is angry with me," muttered the
+servant, insolently. "I do not wish to hear or see any thing more
+for you when your majesty abuses me, and considers me such a mean,
+base fellow. Your majesty first commanded me to listen, and spy, and
+now that I am obeying, I am despised and scolded for it. I will have
+nothing more to do with it, and I wish your majesty to leave me a
+simple footman rather than to accord me such a mean position."
+
+"I did not mean so badly," said the king. "I mean well enough for
+you; but you must not permit yourself to be arrogant or
+disrespectful, otherwise you may go to Tophet! You are no common
+spy, you are listening about a little because you know I am fond of
+hearing what the people are saying, and what is going on in Berlin
+and Potsdam. But take care that they know nothing about it,
+otherwise they will be careful, and you will hear nothing. Now be
+off, and in order to see a cheerful face on you, I will make you a
+present." The king drew from his vest-pocket a purse, well filled
+with small coin, and gave it to the young man, who took it, though
+he still looked angry and insolent. "Do not let your under-lip hang
+down so, for I may step upon it," said the king. "Put the money in
+your pocket, and hurry off to tell old Pfund to harness quickly, or
+I shall not arrive in time at the park."
+
+"There is no danger, your majesty, for the miss seems very fond of
+the promenade; she remained two hours in the park yesterday, always
+walking in the most quiet places, as if she were afraid to meet any
+one. She sat a whole hour on the iron seat by the Carp Pond, and
+then she went to the Philosopher's Walk, and skipped about like a
+young colt."
+
+"You are a very cunning fellow, and know how to use your eyes well,"
+said the king. "Now be off, and order the carriage."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+WILHELMINE ENKE.
+
+The Palace Park was as quiet and deserted as usual. Not a voice, not
+a sound, disturbed the stillness of those silent walks. For this
+reason, undoubtedly, a young lady had sought it; at least her whole
+being expressed satisfaction and delight to wander unobserved
+through those quiet, shady alleys. She was of slight and elegant
+proportions, simply attired, without pretension, in a dark dress of
+some thin silk material. Her black silk mantle was thrown aside upon
+the stone seat near her, uncovering thus, in solitude, to the sun
+and birds, her lovely neck and arms, the beauty of which might rival
+the statues of the ancients. Her face was not of regular beauty, yet
+it possessed that expression of grace, spirit, and energy, which is
+oftener a more powerful and more enduring charm than regular beauty.
+Her large, expressive black eyes possessed a wonderful power, and
+her red, pouting lips wore a sweet smile; her fine Roman nose lent
+an air of decision, whilst her high-arched forehead led one to
+believe that daring, energetic thought lay hidden beneath those
+clusters of brown curls. She was not in the bloom of youth, but at
+twenty-five she appeared younger than many beauties at eighteen; and
+if her form no longer possessed the charm of girlhood, it was
+attractive from its suppleness and full, beautiful bust.
+
+"Louisa, Louisa, where are you?" cried the young lady, stepping
+quickly forward toward a side-path, which led from the broad avenue,
+and at the end of which was a sunny grassplot.
+
+"Here I am, miss; I am coming."
+
+"Miss," murmured the young lady, "how dreadfully it sounds! The
+blush of shame rises to my face, for it sounds like bitter mockery
+and contempt, and brings my whole life before me. Yet, I must endure
+it--and I scarcely wish it were otherwise. Ah, there you are,
+Louisa, and there is my beautiful boy," she cried, with a glad
+voice, hastening toward the peasant-woman and bending fondly over
+her child. "How beautiful and how knowing he looks! It seems as if
+my little Alexander began to recognize me--he looks so earnest and
+sensible."
+
+"He knows you, miss," said the nurse, courtesying, "and he knows,
+like other children, who loves him. Children and dogs know who love
+them. The children cry, and the dogs hide themselves when people are
+around who dislike them."
+
+"Nonsense, Louisa!" laughed the young lady, as she bent to kiss her
+child--"nonsense! did not my little boy cry when his father took him
+yesterday? And he loves his child most tenderly, as only a father
+can."
+
+"Oh, there is another reason for that," said the nurse. "He has just
+passed his first stupid three months, and he begins to hear and see
+what passes around him, and it was the first man's face that he had
+seen. But only look, miss, what a beautiful little dog is coming up
+the path." It was indeed a lovely greyhound, of the small Italian
+race, which came bounding joyfully toward them, and as he saw the
+woman barked loudly.
+
+"Be quiet, Alkmene, be quiet!" cried a loud, commanding voice.
+
+"Oh, Heaven! it is the king!" whispered the young lady, turning
+pale, and, as if stunned, retreated a few steps.
+
+"Yes, it is really the king," cried the nurse, "and he is coming
+directly from the grass-plot here."
+
+"Let us go as quickly as possible, Louisa. Come, come," and she
+hastily threw her mantle around her, drawing the hood over her curly
+head. She had only proceeded a few steps, when a loud voice bade her
+to remain--to stand still. She stood as if rooted to the spot,
+leaning upon her nurse for support; her knees sank under her, and it
+seemed as if the whole world turned around with her. After the first
+tumult of anxiety and fear, succeeded an insolent determination,
+and, forcing herself to calmness, she said: "It is the turning-point
+of my life; the next few minutes will either crush me or assure my
+future; let me struggle for the future, then. I will face him who
+approaches me as my judge." Forcing herself to composure, slowly and
+with effort she turned toward the king, who, approaching by the side
+path, had entered the avenue, and now stood before her. But as she
+encountered the fiery glance of the king's eye, she quailed before
+it, casting down her own, covered with confusion.
+
+"Who are you?" demanded the king, with stern authority, keeping his
+eagle eye fixed upon her. Silent and immovable she stood; only the
+quick, feverish breathing and the heaving bosom told the storm that
+was raging within.
+
+"Who are you?" repeated the voice, with still more severity--"who
+permit themselves to use my park as a nursery? What child is that?
+and who are its parents? They should be of high position at court,
+who would dare to send their child and nurse to the royal park; and
+with what joy they must regard the offspring of their conjugal
+tenderness! Tell me to whom does this child belong?"
+
+Sobbing convulsively, the lady sank, kneeling, with uplifted arms,
+imploring for mercy. "Sire, annihilate me with your anger, but do
+not crush me with your scorn!"
+
+"What language do you permit yourself to hold?" asked the king.
+
+"Sire, it is the language of an unhappy, despairing woman, who knows
+that she stands before that great monarch whose judgment she fears
+more than that of her God, who sees into her heart, and reads the
+tortures and reproaches of her conscience; who knows what she
+suffers, and knows, also, that she is free from self-interest, and
+every base desire. I believe that God will forgive what I fear your
+majesty will not."
+
+"You speak presumptuously, and remind me of the theatre princesses
+who represent a grand scene with a pathetic exit. Let me inform you,
+I despise comedians--only high tragedy pleases me. Spare yourself
+the trouble to act before me, but answer me--who are you? Whose
+child is that?"
+
+"Sire, only God and my king should hear my reply--I beg the favor to
+send away the nurse and child." The king assented, slightly nodding
+his head, at the same time bidding her not to kneel to him as to an
+image.
+
+The lady rose and sought the nurse, who, from fright, had withdrawn
+into the shrubbery, and stood staring at the king with wide-open
+eyes. "Go home, Louisa, and put the child to sleep," said she,
+quickly.
+
+The nurse obeyed promptly, and when alone, the king demanded again,
+"Who are you? and to whom does the child belong?"
+
+"Your majesty, I am the daughter of your chapel musician Enke, and
+the child is the son of Prince Frederick William of Prussia," she
+replied, in a firm and defiant manner.
+
+The king's eyes flashed as he glanced at the bold speaker. "You say
+so, but who vouches for the truth of it? You permit yourself to use
+a high name, to give your child an honorable father! What temerity!
+what presumption! What if I should not believe you, but send you to
+the house of correction, at Spandau, as a slanderer, as guilty of
+high-treason, as a sinner and an adulteress?"
+
+"You could not do it, sire--you could not," cried Wilhelmine Enke,
+"for you would also send there the honor and the name of your
+successor to the throne."
+
+"What do you mean?" cried the king, furiously.
+
+"I mean, your majesty, that the prince has holy duties toward me. I
+am the mother of that child!"
+
+"You acknowledge your shame, and you dare confess it to me, your
+king, that you are the favorite, the kept mistress of the Prince of
+Prussia, who has already a wife that has borne him children? You do
+not even seek to deny it, or to excuse yourself?"
+
+"I would try to excuse myself, did I not feel that your majesty
+would not listen to me."
+
+"What excuse could you offer?--there is none."
+
+"Love is my excuse," cried Wilhelmine, eagerly. "Oh! my ruler and
+king, do not shake your noble head so unbelievingly; do not look at
+me so contemptuously. Oh, Father in heaven, I implore Thee to
+quicken my mind, that my thoughts may become words, and my lips
+utter that which is burning in my soul! In all these years of my
+poor, despised, obscure life, how often have I longed for this hour
+when I might stand before my king, when I might penitently clasp his
+knees and implore mercy for myself and my children--those poor,
+nameless beings, whose existence is my accusation, and yet who are
+the pride and joy of my life! Oh, sire, I will not accuse, to excuse
+myself; I will not cast the stone at others which they have cast at
+me. But it is scarcely charitable to judge and condemn a young girl
+fourteen years of age, who did but obey the command of her parents,
+and followed the man who was the first and only one that ever
+whispered the word of love in her ear."
+
+"I have heard that your parents sold their child to shame. Is it
+true?" cried the king.
+
+"Sire, my father was poor; the scanty income of a chapel musician
+scarcely sufficed to educate and support four children. The prince
+promised my father to educate me."
+
+"Bah! The promises of a young man of twenty-five are made without
+reflection, and rarely ever fulfilled."
+
+"Sire, to the Prince of Prussia I owe all that I know, and all that
+I am; his promise to my dying father was fully redeemed."
+
+"Indeed, by whom were you taught, and what have you learned?"
+
+"Your majesty, the prince wished, before all, that I should learn to
+speak French. Madame Girard was my French instructress, and taught
+me to play the guitar and spinet also."
+
+"Oh, I presume you have learned to jabber a little French and drum a
+little music," said the king, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+"I beg pardon, sire; I have a tolerable knowledge of history and of
+geography. I am familiar with the ancient and modern poets. I have
+read a good French translation of Homer, Horace, and Virgil, with a
+master. I have studied the history of Brandenburg, of Germany, and
+of America. We have read the immortal works of Voltaire, of Jean
+Jacques Rousseau, and of Shakespeare, with many of our modern poets.
+My instructor has read all these works aloud to me, and he was much
+pleased when I repeated parts of what he had read to me some days
+afterward."
+
+"You appear to have had a very learned instructor," remarked the
+king, sneeringly. "What is his name?"
+
+"His name, sire, is Prince Frederick William of Prussia. Yes, it is
+he who has taught me--he who has made me an intelligent woman.
+However young he was when he undertook the task, he has accomplished
+it with fidelity, firmness, and patience. He loved me, and would
+make me worthy of him, in heart and mind. I shall ever be grateful
+to him, and only death can extinguish the love and esteem with which
+he in spires me."
+
+"Suppose I command you to leave the prince? Suppose I will no longer
+endure the scandal of this sinful relation?"
+
+"I shall never willingly separate myself from my dear prince and
+master--from the father of my two children. Your majesty will be
+obliged to force me from him," answered Wilhelmine, defiantly.
+
+"Oh, that will not be necessary, mademoiselle," cried the king.
+"There are ways enough. I will make known my wishes to the prince; I
+will command him to leave you, and have no further communication
+with you."
+
+"Sire," she answered, gently, "I know that the prince is an obedient
+and respectful subject and servant to his king in all things, but
+this command he would not obey."
+
+"He would not dare to brave my commands!"
+
+"He would not brave them, sire. Oh, no; it would be simply
+impossible to obey them."
+
+"What would hinder him?"
+
+"Love, sire; the respect which he owes to me as the mother of his
+two children--who has consecrated her love, her honor to him, and of
+whom no one can say that she has injured the fidelity which she has
+sworn to the prince--to the man of her first and only love--even
+with a word or look."
+
+"You mean to say, that I cannot separate you from the prince but by
+force?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty," cried she, with conscious power, "that is
+exactly what I mean."
+
+"You will find yourself deceived; you will be made to realize it,"
+said the king, with a menacing tone. "You know nothing of the power
+that lies in a legitimate marriage, and what rivals legitimate
+children are, whom one dares acknowledge before God--before the
+world. Boast not of the love of the prince, but remember that an
+honorable solitude is the only situation becoming to you. Such
+connections bear their own curse and punishment with them. Hasten to
+avoid them. Lastly, I would add, never dare to mingle your impure
+hands in the affairs of state. I have been obliged to give the order
+to the state councillors in appointments and grants of office, not
+to regard the protection and recommendation of a certain high
+personage, as you are the real protectress and bestower of mercy.
+Take care, and never let it happen again. You will never venture to
+play the little Pompadour here, nor anything else but what your
+dishonor allows you; otherwise you will have to deal with me! You
+say that you have read Homer; then, doubtless, you remember the
+story of Penelope, who, from conjugal fidelity, spun and wove,
+undoing at night what she had woven by day. It is true, you bear
+little resemblance to this chaste dame, but you might emulate her in
+spinning and weaving; and if you are not in future retiring, I can
+easily make a modern Penelope of you, and have you instructed in
+spinning, for which you will have the best of opportunities in the
+house of correction at Spandau. Remember this, and never permit
+yourself to practise protection. I will keep the spinning-wheel and
+the wool ready for you; that you may count upon. Remember, also,
+that it is very disagreeable to me that you visit my park, as I like
+to breathe pure air. Direct your promenade elsewhere, and avoid
+meeting me in future."
+
+"Your majesty, I--"
+
+"Silence! I have heard sufficient. You have nothing more to say to
+me. Go, hide your head, that no one may recognize your shame, or the
+levity of the prince. Go--and, farewell forever!" He motioned
+impatiently to her to retire, fastening his eyes with a fiery,
+penetrating glance upon her pale, agitated face, her bowed, humble
+attitude, and still continued to regard her as she painfully dragged
+herself down the walk, as if her limbs were giving way under her.
+Long stood the king gazing after her, resting upon his staff; and as
+she disappeared at the end of the walk, he still stood there
+immovable. By degrees his face assumed a milder expression. "He who
+is free from sin, let him cast the first stone at her," said the
+king, softened, as he slowly turned down the path which would lead
+to his carriage, waiting outside the park.
+
+Frederick was lost in thought, and addressed no conversation to the
+equerry, Von Schwerin, who sat opposite to him. But as they drove
+through the beautiful street Unten den Linden, at Berlin, Frederick
+glanced at the equerry, and found that he had fallen asleep, wearied
+with the long silence and the monotony of the drive. The king spoke
+to Alkmene, loud and earnestly, until Herr von Schwerin, awakened
+and startled, glanced at the king, frightened, and trying to
+discover whether his fearful crime against etiquette would draw upon
+him the royal censure. Frederick, however, appeared not to notice
+his fright, and spoke kindly to him: "Did you not tell me, Schwerin,
+that Count Schmettau would sell his country residence at
+Charlottenburg?"
+
+"At your service, your majesty, he asked me to purchase it, or find
+him a purchaser."
+
+"How much is it worth?"
+
+"Sire, Count Schmettau demands eight thousand dollars for it. There
+is a beautiful park belonging to it, and the house is worthy the
+name of a castle, so large is it."
+
+"Why do you not buy it, if the count offered it to you?"
+
+The equerry assumed a sad mien, and answered, sighing: "Sire, I
+should be the happiest of men if I could buy that charming
+residence, and it would be a real blessing to me if I could enjoy in
+summer at times the fresh air. My finances unfortunately, do not
+allow such expenses, as I am not rich, and have a large family."
+
+"Then you are right not to spend money unnecessarily," said the
+king, quietly. "You can have as much fresh air at Potsdam as can
+ever enter your mouth, and it costs neither you nor I any thing. Say
+to Count Schmettau that you have a purchaser for his residence at
+Charlottenburg."
+
+"Oh, you are really too kind," cried the equerry, in an excitement
+of joy; "I do not know--"
+
+Here the carriage entered the palace court, and the concluding words
+were inaudible. Herr von Schwerin alighted quickly to assist the
+king. "Say to Schmettau to present himself to my treasurer and
+cabinet councillor, Menkon, tomorrow morning at twelve o'clock, at
+Sans-Souci."
+
+The king nodded kindly to the equerry, and passed into the Swiss
+saloon, and farther on into the private rooms which he was
+accustomed to occupy whenever he remained at the capital. The Swiss
+saloon was fast filling, not alone with the generals and staff-
+officers of the Berlin garrison, but with the officers of the
+regiments from the provinces, who presented themselves at the palace
+according to the order of the king. The most of them were old and
+worn out, body and mind. They all looked morose and sorrowful. The
+great news of the approaching war with Austria had spread through
+the military. The old laurel-crowned generals of the Seven Years'
+War were unwilling to go forth to earn new laurels, for which they
+had lost all ambition. Not one dared betray his secret thoughts to
+another, or utter a word of disapproval. The king's spies were
+everywhere, and none could trust himself to converse with his
+neighbor, as he might prove to be one of them. There reigned an
+anxious, oppressive silence; the generals and staff-officers
+exchanged the ordinary greetings. All eyes were turned toward the
+door through which the king would enter, bowed down, like his
+generals, with the cares of life, and the burden of old age. The
+king slowly entered. He was, indeed, an old man, like those he came
+amongst, and now saluted. An expression of imperishable youth
+lighted up his pale, sunken face, and his eyes flashed with as much
+daring and fire as thirty-eight years before, when he had assembled
+his young officers around him in this very hall, to announce to them
+that he would march against Austria. How many wars, how many
+battles, how many illusions, victories, and defeats had the king
+experienced in these thirty-eight years! How little the youthful,
+fiery king of that day resembled the weak old man of to-day; how
+little in common the young King Frederick had with "Alten Fritz."
+And now in this feeble body dwelt the same courageous spirit. In the
+course of these years King Frederick II had become Frederick the
+Great! And great he was to-day, this little old man--great in his
+intentions and achievements, never heeding his own debility and need
+of repose. All his thoughts and endeavors concentrated on the
+welfare of his people and his country--on the greatness and glory of
+Germany. Those eyes which now glanced over the circle of generals
+were still flashing as those of the hero-king whose look had
+disarmed the lurking assassin, and confounded the distinguished
+savant in the midst of his eloquence, so that he stammered and was
+silent. He was still Frederick the Great, who, leaning upon his
+staff, was surrounded by his generals, whom he called to fight for
+their fatherland, for Germany!
+
+"Gentlemen," said the king, "I have called you together to announce
+to you that we must go forth to new wars, and, God willing, to new
+victories. The Emperor of Austria forces me to it, for, against all
+laws and customs, and against all rights of kingdoms, he thinks to
+bring German territory into the possession of the house of Hapsburg.
+Charles Theodore, prince-elector, having no children, has concluded
+a treaty with the Emperor Joseph, that at his death the electorate
+of Bavaria will fall to Austria. In consequence thereof an Austrian
+army has marched into Bavaria, and garrisoned the frontier.--The
+prince-elector, Duke Charles Theodore, was not authorized to proceed
+thus, for, though he had no children to succeed him, he had a lawful
+successor in his brother's son, Duke Charles von Zweibrucken.
+Electoral Saxony and Mecklenburg have well-founded pretensions, even
+if Zweibrucken were not existing. All these princes have addressed
+themselves to me, and requested me to represent them to the emperor
+and to the imperial government--to protect them in their injured
+rights. I have first tried kindness and persuasion to bring back
+Austria from her desire of aggrandizement, but in Vienna they have
+repulsed every means of peaceable arbitration. I, as one of the
+rulers of the empire (and as I have reaffirmed the Westphalian
+treaty through the Hubertsburger treaty), feel bound to preserve the
+privileges, the rights, the liberty of the German states. I have
+therefore well reflected, and decided to draw the sword--that what
+the diplomats have failed to arrange with the pen should be settled
+with the sword. These are my reasons, gentlemen, which make it my
+duty to assemble an army; therefore I have called you together." His
+fiery eyes flashed around the circle, peeling into the thin,
+withered faces of his generals, and encountering everywhere a grave,
+earnest mien.
+
+The king repressed with an effort a sigh; then continued, with a
+mild voice: "My feeble old age does not allow me to travel as in my
+fiery youth. I shall use a post-carriage, and you, gentlemen, have
+the liberty to do the same. On the day of battle you will find me
+mounted; you will follow my example. Until then, farewell!"
+[Footnote: The king's words.--See "Prussia, Frederick the Great,"
+vol. iii.]
+
+"Long live the king!" cried General von Krokow; and all the generals
+who formerly joined in this cry of the Prussian warrior, now
+repeated it in weak, trembling tones. Frederick smiled a
+recognition, bowing on all sides, then turned slowly away, leaning
+upon his staff.
+
+When once more alone, the youthful expression faded from his eyes,
+and the gloomy shadows of old age settled down upon his thoughtful
+brow. "They have all grown old and morose," said he, mildly, "they
+will not show any more heroism; the fire of ambition is quenched in
+their souls! A warm stove must warm their old limbs. Oh! it is a
+pitiful thing to grow old; and still they call themselves the images
+of God! Poor boasters, who, with a breath of the Almighty, are
+overturned and bent as a blade of grass in the sand!"
+
+"Your majesty, may I come in?" asked a gentle, happy child's voice.
+
+The king turned hastily toward the door, so softly opened, and there
+stood a charming little boy, in the uniform of a flag-bearer, with
+the cap upon his head, and a neat little sword by his side. "Yes,
+you may enter," nodded the king kindly to him. "You know I sent for
+you, my little flag-bearer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+FREDERICK WILLIAM.
+
+
+The little flag-bearer skipped into the room with graceful vivacity,
+and sprang, with a merry bound, up to the king, took his hand
+without ceremony, and pressed it to his lips. Then, raising up his
+head and shaking back his light-brown curls from his rosy cheeks,
+his bright-blue eyes sparkling, he looked him full in the face.
+"Your majesty, you say that you sent for me; but I must tell you
+that if you had not sent for me I would have come here alone, and
+begged so long at the door, that you would have let me come in!"
+
+"And what if I would not have let you come in at all?" said the
+king, smiling.
+
+The little flag-bearer reflected a moment, then answered with a
+confident air: "Your majesty, I would have forced open the door,
+thrown myself at your feet, and kissed your hand, saying, 'My king,
+my dear great-uncle, I must come in to thank you a thousand times
+for the flag-bearer's commission you have sent me, and for the
+beautiful uniform." Then I would see if your majesty had the courage
+to send me away."
+
+"Let me see, my prince--do you think my courage could fail me upon
+any occasion?"
+
+"Yes, in bad things," zealously cried the prince, "and it would be
+bad if you would not let me thank you. I am so happy with the
+commission and the beautiful uniform which you so graciously sent to
+me! Tell me, your majesty, do I not look beautifully?" The boy
+straightened his elegant, slender form, and saluted the king,
+putting the two fingers of his right hand upon his cap.
+
+"Yes, yes," said Frederick, "you look very nicely, my prince; but it
+is not enough that you look well--you must behave well. From a flag-
+bearer in my army I expect very different things than from any
+common child. Who wears my uniform must prove himself worthy of the
+honor."
+
+"Your majesty," cried the prince, "I assure you, upon my word of
+honor, that I have no bad marks when I wear the uniform. Your
+majesty can ask my tutor. He came with me, and waits in the anteroom
+to speak with you. He will tell you that I have a good report."
+
+"Very well, we will call him presently," said Frederick, smiling.
+"Now we will chat a little together. Tell me whether you are very
+industrious, and if you are learning anything of consequence?"
+
+"Sire, I must learn, even if I had no inclination to; Herr Behnisch
+leaves me no peace. I have scarcely time to play. I am always
+learning to read, to write, to cipher, and to work."
+
+"How about the geography and universal history?"
+
+"Oh, your majesty, I wish there were no geography and history in the
+world, and then I should not have to study so cruelly hard, and I
+could play more. My mother sent me last week a new battledore and
+shuttlecock, but I can never learn to play with it. I no sooner
+begin, than Herr Behnisch calls me to study. To-day I was very
+cunning--oh, I was so sly! I put it in the great-pocket of my
+tutor's coat, and he brought it here without knowing it."
+
+"That was very naughty," said the king, a little severely. The
+prince colored, and, a little frightened, said: "Sire, I could not
+bring it any other way. I beg pardon, the uniform is so tight, and
+then--then, I thought it would be dishonoring it to put a
+shuttlecock in the cartridge-box."
+
+"That was a good thought, prince, and for that I will forgive you
+the trick upon your tutor. But what will you do with the ball here?
+Why did you bring it?"
+
+"Oh, I wished to show it to your majesty, it is so beautiful, and
+then beg you to let me play a little."
+
+"We will see, Fritz," said the king, much pleased. "If you deserve
+it, that shall be your reward. Tell me the truth, is your tutor
+satisfied with you?"
+
+"Sire, Herr Behnisch is never really pleased, but he has not scolded
+me much lately, so I must have been pretty good. One day he wrote
+'Bien' under my French exercise. Oh, I was so happy that I spent six
+groschen of the thaler my father gave me a little while since, and
+bought two pots of gilly-flowers, one for myself and one for my
+little brother Henry, that he should have a souvenir of my 'Bien!'"
+
+"That was right," said the king, nodding approvingly. "When you are
+good, you must always let your friends and relations take part in
+it; keep the bad only for yourself."
+
+"I will remember that, and I thank you for the kind instruction."
+
+"The studies seem to go very well, but how is it with the behavior?
+They tell me that the prince is not always polite to his visitors;
+that he is sometimes very rude, even to the officers who pay their
+respects to him on his father's account, and on my account, not on
+his own, for what do they care for such a little snip as he? They go
+to honor Prince Frederick William of Prussia, though he is only a
+little flag-bearer. They tell me that you do not appreciate the
+honor, but that at Easter you behaved very badly."
+
+"Sire, it is true; I cannot deny it--I did behave badly," sighed the
+little prince.
+
+"What was the matter?" asked the king. "It was not from fear, I
+hope? I should be very angry at that. Tell me yourself, and tell me
+the truth."
+
+"Your majesty can depend upon the whole truth. My tutor says that
+lying is despicable, and that a prince who will one day be a king
+should be too proud to tell a lie! I will tell you all about it. The
+officers came to see me at Easter, just as I had put the Easter eggs
+in the garden, for my little brother and some other boys whom I had
+invited to hunt for them. I had spent my last six groschen for the
+eggs, and I anticipated so much pleasure with the hide-and-seek for
+them. We had just begun, when the officers came."
+
+"That was really unfortunate," said the king, sympathizingly.
+
+"Yes, sire, very disagreeable, and I could not possibly feel kindly.
+While the officers were talking, I was always wishing they would go.
+But they stayed and stayed--and when Major von Werder began to make
+a long speech to me, and I thought there was no end to it, I became
+impatient and furious--and--"
+
+"Why do you hesitate?" asked the king, looking tenderly at the
+frank, glowing face of the boy. "What happened?"
+
+"Something dreadful, sire! I could not keep in any longer. The major
+kept on talking, and looked at me so sharply, I could not help
+making an abominable face. It is unfortunately true--I ran my tongue
+out at him--only just a little bit--and I drew it back in an
+instant; but it was done, and a dreadful scene followed. The major
+did not say any thing, my tutor was red as fire, and I was
+thunderstruck!"
+
+"That was excessively rude, my little flag-bearer," cried the king.
+
+The young prince was so ashamed, and was looking down so penitently,
+that he did not see the smile on Frederick's face, and the
+affectionate look with which he regarded the youthful sinner.
+
+"Do you know that you deserve to be imprisoned fourteen days, and
+live on bread and water, for insubordination?"
+
+"I know it now, sire. I beg pardon most humbly," said the prince,
+with quivering voice and with tears in his eyes. "I have been
+punished enough, without that. Herr Behnisch would not let me go to
+the garden again, and I have never seen the eggs which I spent my
+last groschen for, nor the boys whom I had invited. I was made to
+stay in my room all Easter week, learn twenty Latin words every day,
+and write three pages of German words in good handwriting. It was a
+hard punishment, but I knew that I deserved it, and did not
+complain. I only thought that I would do better in future."
+
+"If you thought so, and you have already been punished, we will say
+no more about it," said the king. "But tell me, how did you get on
+at Whitsuntide, when the officers paid you their respects again?"
+
+"Your majesty," answered the prince, "it was a great deal better; I
+behaved tolerably well, except a very little rudeness, which was not
+so bad after all. [Footnote: The little prince's own words.--See
+"Diary of Prince Frederick William," p. 18.] Herr Behnisch did not
+punish me; he only said, another time, that I should do better, and
+not be so taciturn, but greet the gentlemen in a more friendly
+manner. I must tell you, sire, that when Herr Behnisch does not
+scold, it is a sure sign that I have behaved pretty well; and this
+time he did not."
+
+"Fritz, I believe you," said the king, "and you shall have the
+reward that you asked for--stay here and play a little while. Go,
+now, and call your tutor; I have a few words to say to him."
+
+The little prince sprang toward the door, but suddenly stopped,
+embarrassed.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the king. "Why do you not call your
+tutor?"
+
+"Sire, I am very much troubled. Herr Behnisch will be very angry
+when you tell him about the shuttlecock. I beg you not to betray
+me!"
+
+"Yes, but if you will play before me, you must get the plaything
+which you say is in his pocket."
+
+"Sire, then I had rather not play," cried the prince.
+
+"On the contrary," said the king, "your punishment shall be, to take
+the plaything as cleverly out of the pocket as you put it in. If you
+do it well, then I will say nothing about it; but, if your tutor
+discovers you, then you must submit to the storm. It lies in your
+own hands. Whilst I am conversing with the tutor, try your luck. Now
+call him in."
+
+The prince obeyed thoughtfully, and the tutor entered. He stood near
+the door, and made the three prescribed bows; then he waited with a
+submissive air for further commands.
+
+The king was sitting opposite the door, his hands folded upon his
+staff and his chin resting upon his hands, looking the tutor full in
+the face. Herr Behnisch bore it calmly; not a feature moved in his
+angular, wooden face. Near the tutor stood the little prince, his
+graceful, rosy, childlike face expressing eager expectation.
+
+"Approach!" said the king.
+
+Herr Behnisch stepped forward a little, and remained standing. The
+prince glided noiselessly after him, keeping his eyes fixed on the
+tails of the flesh-colored satin coat with which the tutor had
+adorned himself for this extraordinary occasion. The prince smiled
+as he saw the pocket open and the feathers of the shuttlecock
+peeping out. He stretched out his little hand and crooked his
+fingers to seize it.
+
+"Come nearer! Herr Behnisch," said Frederick, who had observed the
+movement of the little prince, and who was amused at the thought of
+keeping him in suspense a little longer.
+
+Herr Behnisch moved forward, and the prince, frightened, remained
+standing with outstretched hand. He menaced the king with a glance
+of his bright blue eyes. Frederick caught the look, smiled, and
+turned to the tutor.
+
+"I believe it is three years since you commenced teaching the little
+prince?" said the king.
+
+"At your service, your majesty, since 1775."
+
+"A tolerably long time," said the king--"long enough to make a
+savant of a child of Nature. You have been faithful, and I am
+satisfied. The copybooks which you sent me according to my orders
+are satisfactory. I wished to acquaint you myself of my
+satisfaction, therefore I sent for you."
+
+"Your majesty is very condescending," said the tutor, and his sharp,
+angular face brightened a little. "I am very happy in the gracious
+satisfaction of your royal highness. I wished also to make known to
+you personally my wishes in regard to the petition for the little
+prince's pocket-money; he should learn the use of money."
+
+"Very well," said the king, nodding to the prince, who stood behind
+the tutor, holding up triumphantly the shuttle cock.
+
+Yet, the most difficult feat remained to be accomplished. The
+battledoor was in the very depths of the pocket; only the point of
+the handle was visible.
+
+"Your majesty," cried Herr Behnisch, who had taken the approving
+exclamation of "very well" to himself--"your majesty, I am very
+happy that you have the grace to approve of my petition for pocket-
+money."
+
+"Yes, I think it well," said the king, "that the prince should learn
+not to throw money out of the window. I will send you, monthly, for
+the prince, two Fredericks d'or, and, before you hand it over to
+him, change it into small pieces, that there may be a great pile of
+it." [Footnote: The king's own words--See "Confidential Letters."]
+
+Just at that moment the prince tried to seize the battle door. Herr
+Behnisch felt the movement, and was on the point of turning around,
+when Frederick stopped him, by saying, "I believe it is time to
+commence a regular course of instruction for the prince. At eight
+years of age the education of an heir to the throne must progress
+rapidly, and be regulated by fixed principles. I will write out my
+instructions, that you may always have them before you."
+
+"It will be my most earnest endeavor to follow your majesty's
+commands to the letter," answered the tutor, who saw not the little
+prince, with beaming face, behind him, swinging the battledoor high
+in the air.
+
+"I am about to enter upon a new war; no one knows if he will ever
+return from a campaign. I dare not spare my life, when the honor and
+fame of my house are at stake. Our life and death, however, are in
+God's hands. Before we risk our lives, we should put every thing in
+order, and leave nothing undone which it is our duty to do. I will
+write my instructions to-day, and send them to you. Promise me, upon
+your word of honor as a man, that you will act upon them, as long as
+you are tutor to Prince Frederick William, even if I should not
+return from the campaign."
+
+"I promise it to your majesty," answered the tutor. "I will, in all
+things, according to the best of my ability, follow your majesty's
+instructions."
+
+"I believe you; I take you to be an honorable man," said the king.
+"You will always be mindful of the great responsibility which rests
+upon you, as you have a prince to educate who will one day govern a
+kingdom, and upon whom the weal and woe of many millions are
+dependent. And when those millions of men one day bless the king
+whom you have educated, a part of the blessing will fall upon you;
+but when they curse him, so falls the curse likewise upon your
+guilty head, and you will feel the weight of it, though you may be
+in your grave!. Be mindful of this, and act accordingly. Now you may
+depart. I will write the instructions immediately, so that you may
+receive them to-day."
+
+Herr Behnisch bowed, backing out toward the door.
+
+"One thing more," cried the king, motioning with his Staff to the
+tutor. "In order that you may ever remember our interview, I will
+present you with a souvenir."
+
+He opened the drawer of his private writing-table, and took out a
+gold snuff-box, with his initials set in brilliants upon the cover;
+handing it to Herr Behnisch, he motioned him to retire, and thus
+spare him the expression of his gratitude.
+
+"Your majesty," stammered Herr Behnisch, with tears in his eyes,
+"I--"
+
+"You are an honest man, and so long as you remain so, you can count
+upon me. Adieu!--Now," said the king, as the door closed, "have you
+recovered the plaything?"
+
+"Here it is, your majesty," shouted the prince, as he held up
+triumphantly the battledoor and shuttlecock high in the air.
+
+"You deserve your reward, and you shall have it. You can stay with
+me and play with it here. Take care and not make too much noise, as
+I wish to write."
+
+The king now seated himself, to draw up the instructions for Herr
+Behnisch. While he was thus occupied, the little prince tossed his
+shuttlecock, springing lightly after it on tiptoe to catch it;
+sometimes he missed it, and then he cast an imploring look at the
+king, as it fell upon the furniture; but he observed it not. He was
+absorbed in writing the instructions for the education of the future
+king, Frederick William III. The physical education of the prince
+was his first care. He dwelt upon the necessity of the frequent
+practice of dancing, fencing, and riding, to give suppleness, grace,
+and a good carriage--through severe training, to make him capable of
+enduring all hardships. The different branches of study next
+occupied the king. "It is not sufficient," he wrote," that the
+prince should learn the dates of history, to repeat them like a
+parrot; but he must understand how to compare the events of ancient
+times with the modern, and discover the causes which produced
+revolutions, and show that, generally, in the world, virtue is
+rewarded and vice punished. Later, he can learn a short course of
+logic, free from all pedantry; then study the orations of Cicero and
+Demosthenes, and read the tragedies of Racine. When older, he should
+have some knowledge of the opinions of philosophers, and the
+different religious sects, without inspiring him with dislike for
+any one sect. Make it clear to him that we all worship God--only in
+different ways. It is not necessary that he should have too much
+respect for the priests who instruct him."
+
+The shuttlecock fell, at this instant, upon the paper upon which the
+king was writing. Frederick was too much occupied to look up, but he
+threw it upon the floor, continuing to write:
+
+"The great object will be to awaken a love of learning in the
+prince, to prevent any approach to pedantry, and not to make the
+course of instruction too severe at the commencement. We now come to
+the chief division of education, that which concerns the morals.
+Neither you nor all the power in the world would be sufficient to
+alter the character of a child. Education can do nothing further
+than moderate the violence of the passions. Treat my nephew as the
+son of a citizen, who has to make his own fortune. Say to him that,
+when he commits follies, and learns nothing, the whole world will
+despise him. Let him assume no mannerisms, but bring him up simply.
+The--"
+
+It was the second time the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. The king
+looked up censuringly at the prince, who stood speechless with
+fright and anxiety. The king again threw it upon the floor, and
+wrote on:
+
+"The prince must be polite toward every one; and if he is rude, he
+must immediately make an apology. Teach him that all men are equal--
+that high birth is a myth when not accompanied with merit. Let the
+prince speak with every one, that he may gain confidence. It is of
+no consequence if he talks nonsense; every one knows that he is a
+child. Take care in his education, above all things, that he is
+self-reliant, and not led by others; his follies, as well as his
+good qualities, should belong to himself. It is of very great
+importance to inspire him with a love for military life; and for
+this reason say to him, and let him hear others say it, that every
+man who is not a soldier is a miserable fellow, whether noble or
+not. He must see the soldiers exercise as often as possible; and it
+would be well to send for five or six cadets, and have them drill
+before him. Every thing depends upon cultivating a taste for these
+things. Inspire him with a love of our country, above all things.
+Let no one speak to him who is not truly patriotic."
+
+Again the shuttlecock fell upon the paper. The little prince uttered
+a cry of horror, staring at the plaything. This time the king did
+not receive the interruption so calmly. He looked at the speechless
+boy as if very angry; then took it and put it in his pocket. Casting
+another angry glance at the prince, he continued:
+
+"The officers who dine with the prince shall tease and annoy him,
+that he may become confident."
+
+"Your majesty," said the prince, timidly and imploringly, "I beg
+pardon a thousand times for being so awkward. I am sorry, and I will
+be more careful in the future."
+
+The king paid no attention to him, but continued to write: "When you
+understand him better, try to learn his chief passion to uproot it,
+but to moderate it." [Footnote: This entire instruction is an exact
+translation of the original, which Frederick drew up in French, and
+which is included in his "Complete Works."]
+
+"My dear lord and king," began the prince again, "I beg you will
+have the goodness to give me my shuttlecock."
+
+The king was silent, and with apparent indifference commenced
+reading over what he had written.
+
+Prince Frederick William waited a long time, but, on receiving no
+answer, and understanding that his pleading was in vain, his face
+grew red with anger, and his eyes flashed. With an irritated,
+determined manner, he stepped close up to the king, his hands
+resting upon his hips. "Your majesty," cried he, with a menacing
+tone, "will you give me my ball or not?"
+
+The king now looked up at the prince, who regarded him in an
+insolent, questioning manner. A smile, mild as the evening sunset,
+spread over the king's face; he laid his hand lovingly upon the
+curly head of the prince, saying: "They will never take away Silesia
+from you. Here is your shuttlecock." He drew it from his pocket, and
+gave it to the little prince, who seized his hand and pressed it to
+his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE DRIVE TO BERLIN.
+
+
+Wilhelmine Enke passed the remainder of the day, after her meeting
+with the king, in anguish and tears. She recalled all that he had
+said to her, every word of which pierced her to the heart. Her
+little daughter of seven years tried in vain to win a smile from her
+mamma with her gentle caresses. In vain she begged her to sing to
+her and smile as she was wont to do. The mother, usually so kind and
+affectionate, would today free herself from her child, and sent her
+away with quivering lip, and tears in her eyes, to listen to her
+nurse's stories.
+
+Once alone, Wilhelmine paced her room with rapid strides and folded
+arms, giving vent to her repressed anguish. She reviewed her life,
+with all its changing scenes. It was a sad, searching retrospection,
+but in it she found consolation and excuse for herself. She thought
+of her childhood; she saw the gloomy dwelling where she had lived
+with her parents, brothers, and sisters. She recalled the need and
+the want of those years--the sickly, complaining, but busy mother;
+the foolish, wicked father, who never ceased his constant exercise
+of the bugle, except to take repeated draughts of brandy, or scold
+the children. Then she saw in this joyless dwelling, in which she
+crouched with her little sisters, a young girl enter, and greet them
+smilingly. She wore a robe glittering with gold, with transparent
+wings upon her shoulders. This young girl was Wilhelmine's older
+sister, Sophie, who had just returned from the Italian opera, where
+she was employed. She still had on her fairy costume in which she
+had danced in the opera of "Armida," and had come, with a joyous
+face, to take leave of her parents, and tell them that a rich
+Russian count loved her, and wanted to marry her; that in the
+intervening time he had taken a beautiful apartment for her, where
+she would remove that very evening. She must bid them farewell, for
+her future husband was waiting for her in the carriage at the door.
+
+Sophie laughed at her grumbling father, shook hands with her weeping
+mother, and bent to kiss the children. Wilhelmine, in unspeakable
+anguish, sprang after her, holding her fast, with both hands
+clinching the crackling wings. She implored her sister to take her
+with her, while the tears ran in streams down her cheeks. "You know
+that I love you," she cried, "and my only pleasure is to see you
+every day. Take me with you, and I will serve and obey you, and be
+your waiting-maid." Wilhelmine held the wings firmly with a
+convulsive grasp, and continued to weep and implore, until Sophie at
+last laughingly yielded.
+
+"Well, come, if you will be my waiting-maid; no one combs hair as
+well as you, and your simple style of arranging it suits me better
+than any other. Come, come, it shall be arranged, you shall be my
+waiting-maid."
+
+The pictures of memory changed, and Wilhelmine saw herself in the
+midst of splendor, as the poor little maid, unnoticed by her
+brilliant sister, the beloved of the Russian Count Matuschko. Joy
+and pleasure reigned in the beautifully gilded apartment where
+Sophie lived. She was the queen of the feasts and the balls. Many
+rich and fine gentlemen came there, and the beautiful Sophie, the
+dancer, the affianced of Count Matuschko, received their homage. No
+one observed the sad little waiting-maid, in her dark stuff dress,
+with her face bound up in black silk, as if she had the toothache.
+She wore the cast-off morning dresses of her sister, and, at her
+command, bound her face with the black silk, so that the admirers of
+her sister should not see, by a fugitive glance, or chance meeting,
+the budding beauty of the little maid.
+
+Wilhelmine dared not enter the saloon when visitors were there; only
+when Sophie was alone, or her artistic hand was needed to arrange
+her sister's beautiful hair, was she permitted to stay with the
+future countess. Every rough touch was resented with harsh words,
+blows, and ill-treatment. The smiling fairy of the drawing-room, was
+the harsh, grim mistress for her sister, whose every mistake was
+punished with unrelenting severity. In fact, she was made a very
+slave; and now, after long years, the remembrance of it even cast a
+gloomy shadow over Wilhelmine's face, and her eyes flashed fire.
+
+Another picture now rose up before her soul, which caused her face
+to brighten, as a beautiful beaming image presented itself, the
+image of her first and only love! She lived over again the day when
+it rose up like a sun before her wondering, admiring gaze, and yet
+it was a stormy day for her. Sophie was very angry with her, because
+in crimping her hair she had burnt her cheek, which turned the fairy
+into a fury. She threw the weak child upon the floor, and beat and
+stamped upon her.
+
+Suddenly a loud, angry voice commanded her to cease, and a strong,
+manly arm raised the trembling, weeping girl, and with threatening
+tone bade Sophie be quiet. Prince Frederick William of Prussia took
+compassion on the poor child. The sister had not remarked him in her
+paroxysm of rage; had never heard him enter. He had been a witness
+to Wilhelmine's ill-treatment. He now defended her, blaming her
+sister for her cruelty to her, and declared his intention to be her
+future protector. How handsome he looked; how noble in his anger;
+how his eyes flashed as he gazed upon her, who knelt at his feet,
+and kissed them, looking up to him as her rescuer!
+
+"Wilhelmine, come with me; I do not wish you to remain here," said
+he; "your sister will never forgive you that I have taken your part.
+Come, I will take you to your parents, and provide for you. You
+shall be as beautiful and accomplished a lady as your sister, but,
+Heaven grant, a more generous and noble-hearted one! Come!"
+
+These words, spoken with a gentle, winning voice, had never died
+away in her heart. Twelve years had passed since then, and they
+still rang in her ear, in the tumult of the world as well as in the
+quiet of her lonely room. They had comforted her when the shame of
+her existence oppressed her; rejoiced her when, with the delight of
+youth and happiness, she had given herself up to pleasure. She had
+followed him quietly, devotedly, as a little dog follows his master.
+He had kept his word; he had had her instructed during three years,
+and then sent her to Paris, in order to give her the last polish,
+the tournure of the world, however much it had cost him to separate
+from her, or might embarrass him, with his scanty means, to afford
+the increase of expense. A year elapsed and Wilhelmine returned a
+pleasing lady, familiar with the tone of the great world, and at
+home in its manners and customs.
+
+The prince had kept his word--that which he had promised her as he
+took her from her sister's house, to make her a fine, accomplished
+lady. And when he repeated to her now "Come," could she refuse him--
+him to whom she owed every thing, whom she loved as her benefactor,
+her teacher, her friend, and lover? She followed him, and concealed
+herself for him in the modest little dwelling at Potsdam. For him
+she lived in solitude, anxiously avoiding to show herself publicly,
+that the king should never know of her existence, and in his just
+anger sever the unlawful tie which bound her to the Prince of
+Prussia. [Footnote: "Memoirs of the Countess Lichtenau," p. 80.]
+Wilhelmine recalled the past seven years of her life, her two
+children, whom she had borne to the prince, and the joy that filled
+his heart as he became a father, although his lawful wife had also
+borne him children. She looked around her small, quiet dwelling,
+arranged in a modest manner, not as the favorite of the Prince of
+Prussia, but as an unpretending citizen's wife; she thought how oft
+with privations, with want even, she had had to combat; how oft the
+ornaments which the prince had sent her in the rare days of
+abundance had been taken to the pawnbrokers to provide the necessary
+wants of herself and children. Her eyes flashed with pride and joy
+at the thought which she dared to breathe to herself, that not for
+gold or riches, power or position, had she sold her love, her honor,
+and her good name.
+
+"It was from pure affinity, from gratitude and affection, that I
+followed the husband of my heart, although he was a prince," she
+said.
+
+Still the shame of her existence weighed upon her. The king had
+commanded her to hide her head so securely that no one might know
+her shame, or the levity of the prince.
+
+"Go! and let me never see you again!"
+
+Did not this mean that the king would remove her so far that there
+would not be a possible chance to appear again before him? Was there
+not hidden in these words a menace, a warning? Would not the king
+revenge on her the sad experiences of his youth? Perhaps he would
+punish her for what Doris Ritter had suffered! Doris Ritter! She,
+too, had loved a crown prince--she, too, had dared to raise her eyes
+to the future King of Prussia, for which she was cruelly punished,
+though chaste and pure, and hurled down to the abyss of shame for
+the crime of loving an heir to the throne. Beaten, insulted, and
+whipped through the streets, and then sent to the house of
+correction at Spandau! Oh, poor, unhappy Doris Ritter! Will the king
+atone to you--will he revenge the friend of his youth on the
+mistress of his successor? The old King Frederick, weary of life,
+thinks differently from the young crown prince. He can be as severe
+as his father, cruel and inexorable as he.
+
+"Doris Ritter! Thy fate haunts me. On the morrow I also may be
+whipped through the streets, scorned, reviled by the rabble, and
+then sent to Spandau as a criminal. Did not the king threaten me
+with the house of correction, with the spinning-wheel, which he
+would have ready for me?"
+
+At the thought of it a terrible anguish, a nameless despair, seized
+her. She felt that the spinning-wheel hung over her like the sword
+of Damocles, ready at the least occasion to fall upon her, and bind
+her to it. She felt that she could not endure such suspense and
+torture; she must escape; she must rescue herself from the king's
+anger.
+
+"But whither, whither! I must fly from here, from his immediate
+proximity, where a motion of his finger is sufficient to seize me,
+to cause me to disappear before the prince could have any knowledge
+of it, before he could know of the danger which threatened me. I
+must away from Potsdam!"
+
+The prince had arranged a little apartment in Berlin for the winter
+months, which she exchanged for Potsdam in the spring. This seemed
+to offer her more security for the moment, for she could fly at the
+least sign of danger, could even hide herself from the prince, if it
+were necessary to save him and herself. Away to Berlin, then! That
+was the only thought she was able to seize upon. Away with her
+children, before misfortune could reach them!
+
+She sprang to the door, tore it open, rushing to the nurse, upon
+whose knees the baby slept, near whom her little daughter knelt.
+With trembling hands she took her boy and pressed him to her heart.
+"Louisa, we must leave here immediately; it is urgent necessity!"
+said she, with quivering lip. "Do not say a word about it to any
+one, but hasten; order quickly a wagon, bargain for the places, and
+say we must set off at once. The wagon must not be driven to the
+door, but we will meet it at the Berlin Gate. We will go on foot
+there, and get in. Quick, Louisa, not a word--it must be!"
+
+The servant did not dare to oppose her mistress, or contradict the
+orders, but hastened to obey them.
+
+"It is all the old king's fault," said Louisa to herself, as she
+hurried through the street. "Yes, the king has ordered mistress to
+Berlin. He looked so furious, the old bear! His eyes flashed so
+terribly, one might well fear him, and I thanked Heaven when
+mamselle sent me home from the park. It is coming to a bad end at
+last; I should have done better not to have taken the place at all.
+Oh, if we were only away from here; if I only could find a wagon to
+take us!"
+
+Thanks to the nurse's fears and endeavors, the wagon was soon found,
+and scarcely an hour had passed before Wilhelmine Enke, her two
+children and nurse, were hidden under a plain linen-covered wagon,
+and on their way to Berlin.
+
+The street was unusually animated, as the division of troops which
+the king had reviewed in Berlin, were marching out of the city to
+report themselves on the Bavarian frontier. Their first night's
+quarters were to be in Potsdam, and the last great parade was to
+take place there on the following morning, before the king commenced
+his journey. The driver had often to halt at the side of the street
+to let the troops pass, which with a full band of music, came
+marching on. At the head of one of the regiments, mounted upon a
+fiery steed, was a general in brilliant uniform, his breast covered
+with orders, which glittered in the sun. He was tall and rather
+corpulent, but appeared to advantage. His carriage was proud and
+imposing, his face was almost too youthful for a general, and his
+body too corpulent for the expressive and delicate features. As he
+passed by the poor, unpretending carriage, where Wilhelmine sat with
+her children, she heard distinctly his beautiful, sonorous voice,
+and merry laugh. "Oh Heaven, it is he!--it is he!" she murmured,
+drawing herself farther back into the wagon with her children. Just
+then, out of an opening in the linen cover, Louisa peeped,
+whispering, "Mamselle, it is the Prince of Prussia!"
+
+"Be quiet--for mercy's sake be quiet, Louisa, that we may not be
+remarked!" said Wilhelmine, gently. "Take the child that he may not
+scream, for if the prince should hear him he will turn back. He
+knows the voice of his little son!"
+
+"Yes, he knows the voice of his little son!" muttered the nurse, as
+she laid the child to her breast. "The little son must stop here on
+the street, in a miserable wagon, while his noble father rides past,
+so splendid and glittering with gold, not knowing that his little
+boy is so near him. Oh, a real trouble and a real heart-sorrow is
+this!"
+
+"Indeed it is," said Wilhelmine, in her heart, "a real trouble and a
+real heart-sorrow. How all these men would present arms, and salute
+my children, if they had been born to a throne instead of obscurity!
+How they would bow and bend, if I were called Louisa of Hesse-
+Darmstadt, and the lawful wife of the prince! Did they not also bend
+and bow before the first wife, Elizabeth von Braunschweig,
+[Footnote: The first wife of Prince Frederick William of Prussia was
+the Princess Elizabeth von Braunschweig, the niece of Frederick the
+Great. The crown prince was scarcely twenty-one years of age when
+betrothed to her. After four years they were separated, on account
+of the improper conduct of the princess, who was banished to
+Stettin. There she lived until her death in 1840, after seventy-one
+years of imprisonment. Never during these seventy-one years had the
+Princess "Lisbeth," as she was called, dared to leave Stettin. There
+she was obliged to amuse herself. Her concerts and evening
+entertainments were celebrated. The second wife of the crown prince
+of Prussia was Louisa of Hesse-Darmstadt, the mother of Frederick
+William III. She died in 1805.] although every one knew of her
+shameful conduct--knew of her intrigues with lackeys and common
+soldiers? Do they not now bow before her, although she is banished
+to Stettin for her infamous conduct, and lives there a prisoner? A
+fine imprisonment that! The whole town is her prison, and when she
+appears in public every one stands upon the street to salute the
+crown princess of Prussia. But when they see me they pass carelessly
+by, or they look at me with a contemptuous laugh, and fancy
+themselves miracles of virtue, and free from sin. My only crime is
+that my father was not a prince, and that I am of low birth. Am I to
+blame for that--to blame that the man whom I love, and who loves me,
+cannot marry me and make me his lawful wife?"
+
+"Ho! gee, ho!" cried the driver to his horses. "Get up!" The troops
+had passed, the highway was now free, and uninterrupted rolled the
+heavy, creaking wagon into Berlin. Within all was quiet. The two
+children and nurse were asleep. The driver was half asleep, his head
+hung shaking about; only now and then he started to give his horses
+a crack, which the thin, wheezing animals did not heed in the least.
+Wilhelmine alone slept not; in her soul there was no quiet, no
+peace. She grumbled at fate, and at mankind. An unspeakable anxiety
+seized her for the immediate future, and fear of the king's anger.
+As the sun was setting they reached Berlin, and were entering the
+town, when the guard, in royal livery, sprang through the gate,
+calling, in a loud voice, to the wagon, "Halt--halt! Turn out �f the
+way!" Then was heard the call of the sentinel, and the roll of the
+drums. An equipage, drawn by six black steeds, drove past. A pale,
+young wife, splendidly attired, leaned back in the carriage, and the
+little flag-bearer, Prince Frederick William, was by her side; on
+the seat opposite sat the second son, Prince Louis, and the lord
+steward. In this beautiful equipage drove the Princess of Prussia;
+at her side, in a miserable linen-covered wagon, crouching far in
+the corner, sat Wilhelmine Enke, the rival of the princess; near
+her, her two children, whose existence condemned her, and stamped
+her life with dishonor. Like a dream the brilliant apparition rushed
+past Wilhelmine, and it haunted her through the long streets, to the
+humble home where she sought a temporary refuge. And when finally
+alone, in her own room, where no one could spy into her face, nor
+understand her words, there broke forth from her soul a long-
+repressed wrong. She stood erect; a proud, insolent smile played
+around her mouth. "I am his wife, too; I alone am his beloved wife,"
+said she, with a loud, triumphant voice, "and my children are his
+only truly-beloved children, for they are those of his love. How
+proudly she drove past me! How beautiful is her pale face, and how
+interesting her sad smile! She in sunlight, and I in shade! She
+knows that I am her rival, but she is not mine. No, the Princess of
+Prussia cannot rival Wilhelmine Enke. I have no fear of her. But the
+king I have to fear," cried she suddenly, shrinking with terror. In
+the meeting with the princess she had forgotten him, her anguish,
+her anxiety for the future. All were forgotten for the moment--to be
+recalled with renewed terror.
+
+"Thank Heaven," she said, "I have escaped. For the moment I am safe!
+What will the prince do, when he finds that we have fled from
+Potsdam? Will he divine where we have gone? Will he come to seek me?
+If he still loves me--if I am really the happy rival of his wife and
+every other court lady--yes, then he will come. Then he will know
+where to find his Wilhelmine. But if it is true, what malicious
+people have repeated to me, with feigned sympathy, that the prince
+loves another--that he has withdrawn his love from me, is
+indifferent and cold--then he will not seek me; then I shall remain
+here alone!--alone, with my children, this long, fearful night!
+What, then, if I am alone? No, oh, no! I will not believe that I am
+forsaken. These are wicked thoughts which haunt me--only the
+agitation of this dreadful day, which imagination has overwrought.
+Rise up and be strong! Go to thy children," said she, "and read in
+their eyes that he can never leave thee!"
+
+Forcing herself to composure, she sought her children; found Louisa
+humming and singing her little boy to sleep, and her daughter
+nodding, on a low stool at her feet.
+
+"Come, my child, I will put you to sleep," said the mother, lifting
+her in her arms. "Your mother will make your bed softly. When you
+sleep and speak with the angels, intercede for us all."
+
+With tender care she undressed her and bore her gently in her arms
+to her bed, and, kneeling before it, breathed a prayer over her
+sleeping child; then bent over the cradle of her son, blessing and
+kissing him. "Sleep my boy, sleep. I know not that I shall ever see
+thy beautiful eyes open again--whether I shall ever again press thee
+to my heart. Who can tell if they may not come this very night to
+remove me to prison--to punish me for you, my children, my beloved
+children!--Be calm, be calm! I shall remain here until morning, at
+least," added she.
+
+She turned to the nurse, who, with anxious face and folded hands,
+stood at the farthest corner of the room. "Go, now, Louisa--go, and
+take something to eat. You must be hungry and tired. Buy at the next
+store what you need; but do not stop to talk with any one or repeat
+my name. Then return quickly, and take care of the children. Do not
+trouble yourself about me--I need nothing more."
+
+"But you must eat something, mamselle; you must have some supper!"
+
+Wilhelmine shook her head, refusing, and returned quickly to her own
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE OATH OF FIDELITY.
+
+
+Long after nightfall the nurse heard her mistress rapidly pacing her
+room, and talking aloud to herself. Soon, however, Sleep spread her
+soothing wings over Louisa, and she heard no more the rapid steps
+and loud talking of her mistress, nor the rolling of a carriage
+which stopped before the door, and the quick, vigorous steps of a
+man mounting the stairs. But Wilhelmine heard them. Breathless she
+stood, listening to the approaching footsteps, for she felt that
+they had to decide her future--the weal and woe of her children! Was
+it he, her beloved, the father of her children? or was it the king's
+bailiff who had followed her, and came to seize her?
+
+Nearer they came; the bell was hastily, violently rung. Wilhelmine
+uttered a cry of delight. She recognized the voice, the commanding
+manner, and rushed through the anteroom to open the door. The prince
+encircled her in his arms, pressed her to his beating heart, and,
+lifting her up, bore her into the room.
+
+"Why did you leave Potsdam, Wilhelmine? Tell me quickly, why did you
+do it?" asked the prince, tenderly kissing her, as he sat her upon
+the divan at his side. Overcome with her tears, she could not
+answer. "What mean these tears? Has any one dared to wound your
+feelings or injure you?"
+
+"Yes, Frederick, and he who injures me hazards nothing--for it is
+the king! I met him in the park at Potsdam this morning. He has
+crushed me with his scorn and anger. He has threatened me with a
+fearful punishment--no less than the house of correction at Spandau!
+He has told me that the spinning-wheel is in readiness for me if I
+excite his further contempt."
+
+A cry of fury escaped the prince. Springing up, he paced the room
+with rapid strides. Wilhelmine remained upon the divan, but her
+tears did not prevent her following the prince with a searching
+glance--to read his face, pale with rage. "I must bear it," he
+cried, beating his forehead. "I cannot protect those that I love!"
+
+A ray of joy lighted up Wilhelmine's face as she listened, but it
+disappeared with the tears which flowed afresh. "I am a poor,
+unfortunate child," she sobbed, "whom every one despises, and fears
+not to injure, who has no one to counsel or protect her, and who is
+lost if God does not have compassion upon her."
+
+The prince rushed to her, seizing both hands. "Wilhelmine, do not
+drive me mad with sorrow," he cried, trembling with excitement and
+anger. "Is it my fault that I cannot protect you against him? Have I
+not defended you from all the rest of the world? Have I ever allowed
+any one to treat you with contempt?"
+
+"I have never given occasion for it, dearest. I have studiously
+avoided all men, to escape their contempt and scorn. Shame is hard
+to bear, fearfully hard. I felt it today, as his beautiful eyes
+flashed upon me with contempt, as his haughty language crushed me to
+the earth. This is the yoke, Frederick William, that I and my
+children must bear to our graves!"
+
+"No, Wilhelmine, not as long as we live--only while he lives! Wait,
+only wait; let me rise from want and slavery; let the day come which
+makes me free--which exalts me: my first act will be to lift the
+yoke from you and our children, and woe to those--a thousand times
+woe to those who would hold it fast! Only be patient, Wilhelmine,
+submit, and bear with me the hard and distressing present. Tell me,
+my child, my loved one, why did you leave Potsdam so suddenly?"
+
+"I was afraid, Frederick. A kind of madness seized me at the thought
+of the king's bailiffs carrying me off to Spandau; a nameless
+anxiety confused my mind, and I only realized that I must escape--
+that I must conceal myself. I felt in greater security here than at
+Potsdam for the night."
+
+"And you fled without leaving me any sign or message to tell me
+whither you had gone! Oh, Wilhelmine, what if I had not divined your
+hiding-place, and had awaited at Potsdam in painful anxiety?"
+
+"Then I should have fled from here at daybreak, leaving my children,
+and in some quiet, obscure retreat have concealed myself from every
+eye--even your own."
+
+"Would you have hidden yourself from me?" cried the prince,
+encircling her in his arms, and pressing her to his heart.
+
+"Yes, Frederick, when your heart did not prompt you where to find
+me, then it would have been a proof that you were indifferent to me.
+When I cannot lean upon your love, then there is no longer any
+protection or abiding-place for me in the world, and the grave will
+be my refuge."
+
+"But you see my heart revealed you to me, and I am here," said the
+prince, smiling.
+
+"Yes, Heaven be praised, you have come to me," she cried,
+exultingly, throwing her arms about his neck, and kissing him
+passionately. "You are here; I no longer dread the old king's anger,
+and his fearful words fall as spent arrows at my feet. You are here,
+king of my heart; now I have only one thing to dread."
+
+"What is that, Wilhelmine?"
+
+She bent close to his ear, and whispered: "I fear that you are
+untrue to me; that there is some ground for truth in those anonymous
+letters, which declare that you would discard me and my children
+also, for you love another--not one other, but many."
+
+"Jealousy, again jealous!" the prince sighed.
+
+"Oh, no," said she, tenderly, "I only repeat what is daily written
+me."
+
+"Why do you read it?" cried the prince, vehemently. "Why do you
+quaff the poison which wicked, base men offer you? Why do you not
+throw such letters into the fire, as I do when they slander you to
+me?"
+
+"Because you know, Frederick," she answered, proudly and earnestly--
+"you must know that that which they write against me is slander and
+falsehood. My life lies open before you; every year, every day, is
+like an unsullied page, upon which but one name stands inscribed--
+Frederick William--not Prince Frederick William. What does it
+benefit me that you are a prince? If you were not a prince, I should
+not be despised, my children would not be nameless, without fortune,
+and without justice. No, were you not a prince, I should not have
+felt ashamed and grief-stricken, with downcast eyes, before the lady
+who drove past in her splendid carriage, while I was humbly seated
+in a miserable wagon. No, were not my beloved a prince, he could
+have made me his wife, could have given me his name, and I should
+to-day be at his side with my children. Then, what benefit is it to
+me that you are a prince? I love you not that you are one, but
+notwithstanding it. And if I love you in spite of all this, you must
+know that my affection is ever-enduring and ever-faithful--that I
+can never forget you, never abandon you."
+
+"And do you believe, Wilhelmine, that I could ever abandon or
+forsake you? Is it not the same with me?"
+
+She shook her head, sadly answering: "No, Frederick, it is
+unfortunately not the same. You have loved me, and perhaps you love
+me still, but with that gentle warmth which does not hinder glowing
+flames to kindle near it, and with their passionate fire overpower
+the slight warmth."
+
+"It may be so for the moment, I grant it," the prince answered,
+thoughtfully; "but the quick, blazing fire soon consumes itself,
+leaving only a heap of ashes; then one turns to the gentle warmth
+with inward comfort, and rejoices in its quiet happiness."
+
+"You confess loving another?" said Wilhelmine, sorrowfully.
+
+"No, I do not grant that," the prince cried; "but you are a
+sensible, clever woman, and you know my heart is easily excited. It
+is only the meteoric light of the ignis fatuus, soon extinguished.
+Let it dance and flicker, but remember that the only warmth which
+cheers and brightens my heart is your love and friendship. You are
+my first and only love, and you will be my last--that I swear to
+you, and upon it you can rely. Every thing is uncertain and wavering
+in life. They have ruined me, lacerated my heart, and there is
+nothing more in the world which I honor. Only sycophants and
+hypocrites surround me, who speculate upon my future greatness; or
+spies, who would make their fortune today, and therefore spy and
+hang about me, in order to be paid by the reigning king, and who
+slander me in order to be favorites of his. No one at court loves
+me, not even my wife. How should she? She is well aware that I
+married her only at the command of my royal uncle, and she accepted
+me almost with detestation, for they had related to her the
+unhappiness of my first marriage, and the happiness of my first
+love! She has learned the story of my first wife, Elizabeth von
+Braunschweig, and that of my only love, Wilhelmine Enke! She obeyed,
+like myself, the stern command of another, and we were married, as
+all princes and princesses are, and we have had children, as they
+do. We lead the life of a political marriage, but the heart is
+unwed. We bow before necessity and duty, and, believe me, those are
+the only household gods in the families of princes. Happy the man
+who, besides these stern divinities, possesses a little secret
+temple, in which he can erect an altar to true love and friendship,
+and where he can enjoy a hidden happiness. This I owe to you,
+Wilhelmine; you are the only one in whom I have confidence, for you
+have proved to me that you love me without self-interest and without
+ambition. You have said it, and it is true, you love me,
+notwithstanding I am a prince. I confess to you, there are many
+lovely women of the court who are your rivals, and who would try to
+separate us in order to attract me to themselves. They are beautiful
+and seductive, and I am young and passionate; and if these lovely
+women have no respect for my dignity as a married man, how then
+should I have it, who married for duty, not for love? But there is
+one whom I respect for disinterestedness and fidelity! Do you not
+know who alone is disinterested and faithful?--who has never seen in
+me the prince, the future king--only the beloved one, the man--one
+who has never wavered, never counted the cost?--that you are,
+Wilhelmine Enke, therefore we are inseparable, and you have not to
+fear that I can ever forsake you, even if I am sometimes entangled
+in the magic nets of other beautiful women. The chains which bind us
+together cannot be torn asunder, for a wonderful secret power has
+consecrated them with the magic of true love--of heart-felt
+friendship."
+
+"Still they are chains, dearest," sighed Wilhelmine. "You have named
+them thus! The chains will at last oppress you, and you will forget
+the magic power which binds you, and will be free. No holy bond, no
+oath, no marriage tie--nothing but your love binds you to me. I
+rejoice in it, and so long as you do not forsake me, I am conscious
+that it is your own free choice and not force which retains you."
+
+"I will give you an outward sign of our bond of union," cried the
+prince. "I will do it today, as a twofold danger hangs over us--the
+king menaces you, and war menaces me."
+
+"Is it then true, do you go with the king to the field?" groaned
+Wilhelmine.
+
+"Do you wish me to remain?" cried the prince, his eyes flashing.
+"Shall I here seek pleasure, with effeminate good nature, while the
+king, in spite of his age, exposes himself to all the fatigue of a
+campaign and the danger of battle? This war of the Bavarian
+succession is unfortunate, and no one knows whether the German
+empire will derive any important advantage from our sustaining by
+force of arms a little duchy. It is a question whether it would not
+be better to abolish the little principalities, in order to
+strengthen the greater German powers. The king will support Bavaria,
+because he envies Austria its possession, and, as he has decided
+upon war, it becomes his crown prince to yield to his decision
+without murmuring. Therefore, Wilhelmine, I will today witness to
+you the oath of fidelity. If God calls me to Him, if I fall in
+battle, this oath will be your legacy. I have nothing else to leave
+you, thanks to the parsimony of my noble uncle. I am a very poor
+crown prince, with many debts and little money, and not in a
+condition to reward your love and fidelity otherwise than with
+promises and hopes, and letters of credit for the future. Such a
+bill of exchange I will write for you--a legacy for my dear
+Wilhelmine. Give me pen and paper."
+
+Wilhelmine hastened to her writing table and brought him paper with
+writing materials. "There, my Frederick," said she, "there is every
+thing necessary--only the ink, I fear, may be dried."
+
+The prince shook his head, smiling. "Such a lover's oath as I will
+transcribe for you can be written with no common ink. See, here is
+my ink!"
+
+The prince had suddenly made a slight incision in his arm, and, as
+the blood gushed out, he dipped his pen in it, and wrote; then
+handed it to Wilhelmine, saying: "Read it here, in the presence of
+God and ourselves."
+
+Wilhelmine pressed it to her lips, and read, with a solemn voice:
+"'By my word of honor as a prince, I will never forsake you, and
+only death shall separate you from me.--Prince Frederick William of
+Prussia.'" [Footnote: "Memoires of the Countess Lichtenau." p. 120.]
+
+"By my word of honor as a prince, I will never forsake you, and only
+death shall separate me from you," repeated the prince, as he bent
+over Wilhelmine, lifting her in his arms and placing her upon his
+knee. "Take the paper and guard it carefully," said he. "When I die,
+and you have closed my eyes, as I trust you will, give this paper to
+my son and successor, for it is my legacy to you, and I hope my son
+will honor it and recognize in you the wife of my heart, and care
+for you."
+
+"Oh! speak not of dying, Frederick," cried Wilhelmine, embracing him
+tenderly; "may they condemn me, and imprison me as a criminal, when
+you are no more! What matters it to me what befalls me, when I no
+longer possess you, my beloved one, my master? Not on that account
+will I preserve the precious paper, but for the love which it has
+given me, and of which it will one day be a proof to my children.
+This paper is my justification and my excuse, my certificate and my
+declaration of honor. I thank you for it, for it is the most
+beautiful present that I have ever received."
+
+"But will you make me no return, Wilhelmine? Will you not swear to
+me, as I have sworn to you?"
+
+She took the knife from the table without answering, and pointing it
+to her left arm--
+
+"Oh, not there!" cried the prince, as he sought to stay her hand.
+"Do not injure your beautiful arm, it would be a sacrilege."
+
+Wilhelmine freed herself from him, as he sought to hold her fast,
+and in the mutual struggle the knife sank deep into her left hand,
+the blood gushing out. [Footnote: The scar of this wound remained
+her whole life, as Wilhelmine relates in her memoirs.--See "Memoires
+of the Countess Lichtenau."]
+
+"Oh, what have you done?" cried the prince, terrified; "You are
+wounded!"
+
+He seized her hand and drew the knife from the wound, screaming with
+terror as a clear stream of blood flowed over his own. "A physician!
+Send quickly for a physician," cried he. "Where are my servants?"
+
+Wilhelmine closed his lips at this instant with a kiss, and forced
+herself to smile in spite of the pain which the wound caused her.
+"Dearest, it is nothing," she cried. "I have only prepared a great
+inkstand--let me write!"
+
+She dipped her pen in the blood, which continued to flow, and wrote
+quickly a few lines, handing them to the prince.
+
+"Read aloud what you have written. I will hear from your own mouth
+your oath. You shall write it upon my heart with your lips."
+
+Wilhelmine read: "By my love, by the heads of my two children, I
+swear that I will never forsake you--that I will be faithful to you
+unto death, and will never separate myself from you; that my
+friendship and love will endure beyond the grave; that I will ever
+be contented and happy so long as I may call myself your Wilhelmine
+Enke."
+
+"I accept your oath, dearest," said the prince, pressing her to his
+heart. "This paper is one of my choicest jewels, and I will never
+separate myself from it. We have now sealed our love and fidelity
+with our blood, and I hope that you will never doubt me again.
+Remember this hour!"
+
+"I will," she earnestly promised, "and I swear to you never to
+torment and torture you again with my jealousy. I shall always know,
+and shall hold fast to it, that you will return to me."
+
+A violent knocking on the house door interrupted the stillness of
+the night. A voice in loud, commanding tones called to the night-
+watch.
+
+"Here I am!" answered the porter. "Who calls me? And what is the
+matter?"
+
+"Open the door," commanded the voice again.
+
+"It is our house," whispered Wilhelmine, who had softly opened the
+window. "It is so dark, I can only see a black shadow before the
+door."
+
+"Do you belong to the house?" asked the night-watch. "I dare let no
+one in who does not belong there."
+
+"Lift up your lantern, and look at my livery. It is at the king's
+order!"
+
+Wilhelmine withdrew from the window, and hastened to the prince, who
+had retired to the back part of the room.
+
+"It is Kretzschmar, the king's footman and spy," she whispered.
+"Hide yourself, that he does not discover you. Go there to the
+children."
+
+"No, Wilhelmine, I will remain here. I--"
+
+Wilhelmine pressed her hand upon his mouth, and forced him into the
+side-room, bolting the door.
+
+"Now," said she, "I will meet my fate with courage; whatever may
+come, it shall find me firm and composed. My children are safe, for
+their father is with them."
+
+She took the light, and hastened into the anteroom, which was
+resounding with the loud ringing.
+
+"Who is there?" she cried. "Who rings so late at night?"
+
+"In the name of the king, open!"
+
+Wilhelmine shoved back the bolt, opening the door.
+
+"Come in," she said, "and tell me who you are."
+
+"I think you recognize me," said Kretzschmar, with an impudent
+smile. "You have often seen me at Potsdam in company with the king.
+I saw you this morning as the king did you the honor to speak with
+you, and I believe did not compliment you."
+
+"Did his majesty send you here to say this to me?"
+
+"No, not exactly that," answered he, smiling; "but, as you asked me,
+I was obliged to answer. I have come here with all speed as courier
+from Potsdam. I hope you will at least give me a good trinkgeld. I
+was commanded to deliver into your own hands this paper, for which I
+must have a receipt." He drew from his breast pocket a large sealed
+document, which he handed to Wilhelmine. "Here is the receipt all
+ready, with the pencil; you have only to sign your name, and the
+business is finished." He stretched himself with an air of the
+greatest ease upon the cane chair, near the door.
+
+Wilhelmine colored with anger at the free conduct of the royal
+footman, and hastened to sign the receipt to rid herself of the
+messenger, and to read the letter.
+
+"What will you give me for trinkgeld, Mamselle Enke?" asked the
+footman, as she gave him the receipt.
+
+"Your own rudeness and insult," answered Wilhelmine proudly, as she
+turned, without saluting him, to the sitting-room.
+
+Kretzschmar laughed aloud. "She will play the great and proud lady,"
+said he. "She will get over that when in prison. The letter is
+without doubt an order of arrest, for when the king flashes and
+thunders as he did this morning, he usually strikes. I hope it will
+agree with you." He slowly left the anteroom, and descended the
+stairs to mount his horse, which he had bound to a tree.
+
+Wilhelmine hastened in the mean time to the prince. "Here is the
+letter addressed to me," said she, handing him the sealed envelope.
+"I beg you to open it; courage fails me, everything trembles and
+swims before my eyes. Read it aloud--I will receive my sentence from
+your lips."
+
+The prince exclaimed, breaking the seal: "It is the handwriting of
+the secret cabinet secretary, Menken, and the message comes
+immediately from the king's cabinet. Now, Wilhelmine, do not
+tremble; lean your head upon me, and let us read."
+
+"'In the name of his majesty, Wilhelmine Enke is commanded, under
+penalty of severe punishment, not to leave her room or her dwelling,
+until the king shall permit her, and send some one to take her and
+all that belongs to her to her place of destination. She shall
+receive this order with patience and humility, and consider her
+apartment as a prison, which she shall not leave under severe
+penalty, nor allow any one to enter it. Whoever may be with her at
+the time of receiving the order, who do not belong there, shall
+speedily absent themselves, and if the same ride or drive to
+Potsdam, they shall immediately take a message to his royal highness
+the Prince of Prussia, and announce to him that his majesty expects
+him at Sans-Souci at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. The Minister von
+Herzberg will be in waiting to confer with the prince. The above is
+communicated to Wilhelmine Enke for her strict observance, and she
+will act accordingly.'"
+
+A long silence followed the reading of this letter. Both looked
+down, thoughtfully recalling the contents.
+
+"A prisoner," murmured Wilhelmine, "a prisoner in my own house."
+
+"And for me the peremptory command to leave immediately for Potsdam,
+in order to be at Sans-Souci early in the morning. What can the king
+mean?"
+
+"He will announce to you my imprisonment, my exile," sighed
+Wilhelmine.
+
+The crown prince shook his head. "No," said he, "I do not believe
+it. If the king would send you to prison, he would not make such
+preparation; he would not commence with the house arrest, as if you
+were an officer, who had been guilty of some slight insubordination,
+but he would act with decision, as is his wont. He would at once
+have sent you to Spandau or some other prison, and left it to me to
+have taken further steps. No--the more I think it over, the more
+evident it is to me that the king is not really angry; he will only
+torment us a little, as it pleases his teasing spirit. The chief
+thing now is to obey, and give him no further occasion for anger.
+You must be very careful not to leave your apartment, or to allow
+any one to enter it. I shall start without delay for Potsdam. There
+are spies posted as well for you as myself; our steps are watched,
+and an exact account of them given. I must away quickly."
+
+"Must you leave me a prisoner? Oh, how hard and cruel life is!"
+
+"Yes, it is, indeed, Wilhelmine. But I must also humbly submit and
+obey. Is not life hard for me, and yet I am crown prince, the heir
+to the throne! I shall be reprimanded and scolded like a footman. I
+must obey as a slave, and am not permitted to act according to my
+will. I am only a mere peg in the great machine which he directs,
+and the--"
+
+"Hush! for mercy's sake be quiet! What if some one should hear you?
+You know not if the spies may not be at the door."
+
+"True," said the prince, bitterly. "I do not know! The nurse even,
+who suckles our child, may be a paid spy. The owner of this house
+may be in the king's service, and creep to the door to listen.
+Therefore it is necessary, above all things, that we act according
+to the king's commands. Farewell, Wilhelmine, I must set off at
+once. Kretzschmar is no doubt at the corner of the street to see
+whether I, as an obedient servant of his master, leave here. If I do
+it, he will take the news to Sans-Souci, and perhaps the king will
+be contented. Farewell, I go at once to the palace, to start from
+there for Potsdam."
+
+"Farewell, my beloved one! May God in heaven and the king upon earth
+be merciful to us! I will force myself to composure and humility.
+What I suffer is for you! This shall be my consolation. If we never
+meet again, Frederick William, I know you will not forget how much I
+have loved you!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE PARADE.
+
+
+Since early morning a gay, warlike life had reigned at Potsdam and
+the neighborhood of Sans-Souci. From every side splendid regiments
+approached, with proud and stately bearing, in glittering uniforms,
+to take in perfect order the places assigned to them. With flying
+banners, drums beating, and shrill blasts of trumpets, they came
+marching on to the great parade--the last, for the king was about to
+leave for the field. Thousands of spectators poured forth,
+notwithstanding the early hour, from Potsdam; and from Berlin even
+they came in crowds, to take a last look of the soldiers--of their
+king, who was still the hero at sixty-nine--the "Alto Fritz," whom
+they adored--though they felt the rigor of his government. It was a
+magnificent spectacle, indeed--this immense square, filled with
+regiments, their helmets, swords, and gold embroideries glittering
+in the May sun. Officers, mounted on richly caparisoned steeds, drew
+up in the centre, or galloped along the front of the lines,
+censuring with a thundering invective any deviation or irregularity.
+In the rear of the troops stood the equipages of the distinguished
+spectators on the one side, while on the other the people in compact
+masses swayed to and fro, gayly passing judgment upon the different
+regiments and their generals. The people--that means all those who
+were not rich enough to have a carriage, or sufficiently
+distinguished to claim a place upon the tribune reserved for noble
+ladies and gentlemen--here they stood, the educated and uneducated,
+shoemaker and tailor, savant and artist--a motley mixture! Two
+gentlemen of the high citizen class apparently were among the crowd.
+They were dressed in the favorite style, which, since the "Sorrows
+of Werther" had appeared, was the fashion--tight-fitting boots,
+reaching to the knee, with yellow tops; white breeches, over which
+fell the long-bodied green vest; a gray frock with long pointed
+tails and large metal buttons, well-powdered cue, tied with little
+ribbons, surmounted with a low, wide-brimmed hat. Only one of the
+gentlemen wore the gray frock, according to the faultless Werther
+costume, a young man of scarcely thirty years, of fine figure, and
+proud bearing; a face expressive and sympathetic, reminding one of
+the glorious portraits of men which antiquity has bequeathed to us.
+It seemed like the head of a god descended to earth, noble in every
+feature, full of grace and beauty; the slightly Roman nose well
+marked yet delicate; the broad, thoughtful brow; the cheeks flushed
+with the hue of youth and power; the well-defined chin and red lips,
+expressive of goodness, benevolence, roguery, and haughtiness;
+large, expressive eyes, flashing with the fire which the gods had
+enkindled. His companion was perhaps eight years younger, less well-
+proportioned, still of graceful appearance, in his youthful
+freshness, with frank, cheerful mien, clever, good-natured,
+sparkling eyes, and red, pouting lips, which never liked to cease
+chatting.
+
+"See, Wolff! I beg," said the young man, "see that old waddling
+duck, Mollendorf. I know the old fellow, he is from Gotha; he
+imagines himself of the greatest importance, and thinks Prussia
+begets fame and honor from his grace. He trumpets forth his own
+glories at a dinner, and abuses his king. He makes Frederick the
+Great an insignificant little being, that he may look over him."
+
+"Unimportant men always do that," answered the other. "They would
+make great men small, and think by placing themselves on high
+pedestals they become great. The clown striding through the crowd on
+his stilts may even look over an emperor. But fortunately there
+comes a time when the dear clown must come down from his stilts, and
+then it is clear to others, if not to himself, what little, earth-
+born snips the men of yesterday are."
+
+"Only look, Wolff, there is just such a moment coming to that
+stiltsman Mollendorf. How the great man stoops, and how small he
+looks on his gray horse, for a greater springs past! Look at him
+well, Wolff--we shall dine with him, and he does not like to be
+stared at in the face."
+
+"Is that, then, Prince Henry passing?" asked Wolff, with animation;
+"That little general, who just galloped into the circle with his
+suite, is that the king's brother?"
+
+"Yes, that is just his misfortune that he is the king's brother,"
+answered a deep, sonorous voice behind them.
+
+Turning, they beheld a young, elegantly dressed man, in the light
+gray frock and gold-bordered, three-cornered hat, and a Spanish
+cane, with an ivory handle.
+
+"What did you remark, sir?" asked Herr Wolff; his great, brown eyes
+flashing over the pale, intellectual face of the other, so that he
+was quite confused, yet, as if enchanted, could not turn away. "What
+did you remark, sir?" asked again Herr Wolff.
+
+"I believe," stammered the other, "that I said it was the misfortune
+of the prince that he was the brother only, as he was worthy of
+being mentioned for himself; but I beg, sir, be a little indulgent,
+and do not pry into my very soul with your godlike eyes. It will
+craze me, and I shall run through the streets of Berlin, crying that
+the Apollo-Belvedere has arrived at Potsdam, and invite all the
+poets and authors to come and worship him."
+
+"I believe you are right," cried the youngest of the two gentlemen,
+laughing. "I believe myself it is the Apollo-Belvedere."
+
+"Be still, my dear sir, hush, and preserve our incognito,"
+interrupted his companion.
+
+"But I cannot help it, Wolff. Am I to blame that this clever fellow
+sees through your mask, and discovers the divine spark which hides
+itself under a gray Werther costume?"
+
+"I pray, sir, grant my request, and respect our incognito," begged
+the other, gently but firmly.
+
+"Well, well, you shall have your way," laughed the other, good-
+naturedly, and turning to the pale young man, who still kept his
+eyes fixed on Herr Wolff in a sort of ecstacy, he said: "Let the
+authors and poets stay in Berlin; we will persuade the disguised
+Apollo to meet them there, and read them a lecture, for among the
+Berlin poets and critics there are wicked heretics, who, if the
+Deity Himself wrote tragedies and verses, would find some fault to
+object to."
+
+"Pray tell me, sir, do you think Prince Henry a great man?"
+
+"Did not the king call him so in his 'History of the Seven Years'
+War?'" said the stranger. "Did he not publicly, in the presence of
+all his generals, say, 'that Prince Henry was the only general who
+had not made a mistake during the whole war?'"
+
+"Do you believe the king will say that of the prince just riding in
+with his suite, after the present war?" asked the young man, with
+earnestness.
+
+"You mean the Prince of Prussia," answered the other, shaking his
+head. "There are men who call this prince the 'hope of Prussia,' and
+regard him as a new Aurora in the clouded sky."
+
+"And you, sir, do you regard him so?" cried Herr Wolff.
+
+"Do you mean that the Prince of Prussia will usher in a brighter day
+for Germany?"
+
+"No," answered the other. "I believe that day expires with Frederick
+the Great, and that a long night of darkness will succeed."
+
+"Why do you think so?"
+
+"Because it is the course of nature that darkness succeeds light.
+Look at the prince, gentlemen--the divine light of genius is not
+stamped upon his brow, as formerly, and care will be taken that it
+is soon extinguished altogether."
+
+"Who will take care?"
+
+"Those who are the enemies of light, civilization, and freedom."
+
+"Who are they?" asked Herr Wolff.
+
+The other smiled, and answered: "Sir, so far as I, in all humility,
+call myself a scholar, I also owe to the god Apollo obedience, and
+must answer him, though it may endanger me. I answer, then, the
+enemies of light and civilization are the disguised Jesuits."
+
+"Oh, it is easy to perceive that you do not belong to them, or you
+would not thus characterize them, and--"
+
+A mighty flourish of drums, and shrill blasts of horns and trumpets,
+drowned the youth's words, and made all further conversation
+impossible. The king, followed by a brilliant suite, had just
+arrived at the parade. The regiments greeted their sovereign with
+loud blasts of trumpets, and the people shouted their farewell.
+Frederick lifted lightly his hat, and rode along the ranks of the
+well-ordered troops. He listened to the shouts with calm, composed
+manner; the Jupiter-flashes from his great eyes seemed to be spent
+forever. Mounted upon Caesar, his favorite horse, he looked today
+more bent, his back more bowed with the burden of years; and it was
+plainly visible that the hand which held the staff crosswise over
+the horse's neck, holding at the same time the bridle, trembled from
+very weakness.
+
+"That is Frederick," said Herr Wolff to himself. "That is the hero
+before whom Europe has trembled; the daring prince who caused the
+sun to rise upon his country, and awaken the spirits to cheerful
+life. Oh, how lamentable; how much to be regretted, that a hero,
+too, can grow feeble and old! Oh, cruel fate, that the noblest
+spirits embodied in this fragile humanity, and--"
+
+Suddenly he ceased, and looked at the king amazed and with
+admiration. The old man had become the hero again. The bowed form
+was erect, the face beamed with energy and conscious power, the eyes
+flashed with bold daring, strong and sonorous was the voice. The
+king had turned to his generals, who were drawn up around him in a
+large circle, saying: "Gentlemen, I come to take leave of you. We
+shall meet again upon the battle-field, where laurels bloom for the
+brave. I hope that we may all return, crowned with fresh laurels.
+Tell my soldiers that I count upon them--that I know they will prove
+the glory of the Prussian troops anew, and that on the day of battle
+they will see me at their head.--Farewell!"
+
+"Long live the king!" cried the generals and staff officers, in one
+voice. The people and the soldiers joined the shout, the ladies
+waved their handkerchiefs. Herr Wolff and his companions tore off
+their hats with enthusiasm, and swung them high in the air.
+
+The great eyes of the king, who passed at this moment, rested upon
+Herr Wolff. "My heart quaked as if I were the pillar of Memnon, and
+had been touched by the sun's rays," sighed he, as he followed the
+king with his fiery glance.
+
+"The ceremony is now finished," said the young man near him, "and we
+must leave, in order to be punctual to dinner at Prince Henry's."
+
+"I wish the king had remained an hour longer," sighed Herr Wolff
+again. "As I looked at him, it seemed as if I were listening to a
+song from Homer, and all my faculties were in unison in delight and
+enthusiasm. Happy those who dare approach him, and remain near him!"
+
+"Then, according to your opinion, his servants must be very
+fortunate," said the stranger, "and yet they say that he is not very
+kind to them."
+
+"Because the servant is a little man," cried Herr Wolff, "and every
+one looks little to his belittling eyes."
+
+"Yes, there are many others no more elevated than servants in the
+king's surroundings," said the other. The youth reminded him that
+they must leave.
+
+"Only wait a moment, friend," begged Herr Wolff, as he turned to the
+stranger, saying, "I would like to continue our conversation of
+today. You live in Berlin. I will find you out if you will give me
+your name."
+
+"I pray you to visit me; my name is Moritz. I live in Kloster
+Strasse, near the gray convent."
+
+"Your name is Moritz?", asked Herr Wolff, earnestly. "Then you are
+the author of the 'Journey to England?'"
+
+"Yes, the same, and my highest encomium is, that the work is not
+unknown to you, or the name of the author."
+
+"All Germany knows it, and do you think I could possibly remain a
+stranger to it?"
+
+"But your name, sir," said the stranger, with anxious curiosity.
+"Will you not give me your name?"
+
+"I will tell you when we are in your own room," said Herr Wolff,
+smiling.
+
+"The air is yet enchanted and intoxicated with the breath of the
+Great Frederick; it should not be desecrated with another name.--
+Farewell, we will meet in Berlin."
+
+Not far from these gentlemen stood two others, wrapped in long
+military cloaks, both of striking and foreign appearance; the one,
+of slight delicate figure, of dark complexion, noble and handsome
+face, must be an Italian, as his very black hair and eyes betrayed;
+the other, tall, broad-shouldered, of Herculean stature, belonged to
+North Germany, as the blond hair, light blue eyes, and features
+indicated. A pleasing smile played around his thick, curled lips,
+and only when he glanced at his companion did it die away, and
+change to one of respectful devotion. At this instant the king
+passed. The Italian pressed the arm of his companion.
+
+"The arch fiend himself," he murmured softly, "the demon of
+unbelief, to whom nothing is sacred, and nothing intimidates. The
+contemptuously smiling spirit of negation, which is called
+enlightenment, and is but darkness, to whom belief is superstition,
+and enlightening only deception. Woe to him!"
+
+"Woe to him!" repeated the other.
+
+The king was followed by his brilliant and select staff in motley
+confusion. First, Prince Henry, and then the Prince of Prussia. As
+the latter passed the two gentlemen, the Italian pressed the arm of
+his companion still harder. "Look at him attentively, my son," said
+he, "that is our future and our hope in this country."
+
+The Hercules turned hastily, with a look of astonishment, to the
+Italian. "The Prince of Prussia?" asked he, with amazement.
+
+The Italian nodded. "Do you doubt it?" he added, reproachfully.
+"Would you doubt your lord and master, because he reveals to you
+what you cannot seize with your clouded spirit?"
+
+"No, no, master, I am only surprised that you hope for good from
+this lost-in-sin successor to the throne."
+
+"Yes, you are poor, human children," sighed the Italian,
+compassionately smiling; "prompt to judge, mistaking light for
+darkness, and darkness for light. I have already remarked that to
+the celebrated and austere Minister Sully, as he complained to me of
+the levity and immorality of the French king, Henry IV. I told him
+that austere morals and moral laws suffered exceptions, and that
+those through whom the welfare of humanity should be furthered, had
+to transfer their heavenly bliss of love to the earthly sphere.
+Sully would contest the question with me, but I defeated him, while
+I repeated to him what the beautiful and unhappy Queen of Scotland,
+Mary Stuart, once said to me."
+
+"Mary Stuart!" cried the other, vehemently.
+
+"Yes, Mary Stuart," answered the Italian, earnestly. "Come, my son,
+let us go. We have seen what we wished to see, and that is
+sufficient. Give me thy arm, and let us depart."
+
+They departed arm in arm, withdrawing from the crowd, and taking the
+broad walk which crossed to the park.
+
+"You were about to relate to me the answer which Mary Stuart gave to
+you, sir," said the Hercules, timidly.
+
+"True; I will now relate it to you," he answered, with sadness. "It
+was in Edinburgh I had surprised Mary (as I was admitted without
+ceremony), in her boudoir, as the handsome Rizzio sat at her feet,
+and sang love-songs to her. She was resting upon a gold-embroidered
+divan, and her figure appeared to great advantage in the heavenly
+blue, silver-embroidered gauze robe, which covered her beautiful
+limbs like a cloud. In her hair sparkled two diamonds, like two
+stars fallen from heaven, and more glowing still were her eyes,
+which tenderly rested upon Rizzio. Leaning upon her elbow, she
+inclined toward Rizzio, who, lute in hand, was looking up to her
+with a countenance expressive of the deepest love. It was a glorious
+picture, this young and charming couple, in their bliss of love; and
+never, in the course of this century, have I forgotten this
+exquisite picture--never have its bright tints faded from my memory.
+How often have I begged my friend, Antonio Vandyck, to make this
+picture eternal, with his immortal pencil. He promised to do it, but
+at the moment he was occupied with the portraits of Charles I. and
+his family--the grandson of Queen Mary. Later, as I was not with
+him, unfortunately, to save him, death seized him before he had
+fulfilled his promise. But her image is stamped upon my heart, and I
+see her now, as I saw her then, the beautiful queen, with the
+handsome singer at her feet. I had entered unawares, and stood a few
+moments at the door before they remarked me. As I approached, Rizzio
+suddenly ceased in the midst of a tender passage, and sprang to his
+feet. Mary signed to him, blushing, to withdraw. He glided
+noiselessly out, his lute under his arm, and I remained alone with
+the queen. I dared to chide her, gently, for her love affair with
+the handsome singer, and, above all, to exhort her to fidelity to
+her husband. Whereupon Mary answered me, with her accustomed smiling
+manner, 'There is but one fidelity which one must recognize, and
+that is to the god of gods--Love! Where he is not, I will not be.
+The god Hymen is a tedious, pedantic fellow, who burns to ashes all
+the fresh young love of the heart, and all the enthusiasm of the
+soul, with his intolerable tallow torch, for Love stands not at his
+side. I am faithful to the god Amor, therefore I can never be
+faithful to the god Hymen, as it would be unfaithful to Love!' That
+was the response of the beautiful Queen Mary. I could not contest
+the question, so I only looked at her and smiled. Suddenly, I felt a
+dagger, as it were, thrust at my heart, my spiritual eyes were
+opened, the lovely woman on the divan was fearfully changed. Instead
+of the gauze robe, sparkling with silver, a black cloth dress
+covered her emaciated limbs; instead of brilliants, sparkling in her
+hair, a mourning veil covered her whitened locks. The beauty and
+roundness of her neck had disappeared, and I saw around it a broad
+dark-red stripe. Her head moved, and fell at my feet dissevered. I
+saw it all, as distinctly as if it really happened, and seized with
+unspeakable pity I prostrated myself at her feet (who was unknowing
+of my vision), and besought her with all the anxiety and tenderness
+of friendship to leave Scotland, to fly from England, as there the
+death-tribunal awaited her. But Mary Stuart only laughed at my
+warning, and called me a melancholy fool, whom jealousy made
+prophetic. The more I begged and implored, the more wanton and gay
+the poor woman became. Then, as I saw all persuasion was vain, that
+no one could save her from her dreadful fate, I took a solemn oath
+that I would be at her side at the hour of her peril, and accompany
+her to the scaffold. Mary laughed aloud, and, with that mocking
+gayety so peculiarly her own, she accepted the oath, and reached me
+her white hand, sparkling with diamonds, to seal the vow with a
+kiss. I faithfully kept it. I had but just arrived in Rome when I
+received the account of her imprisonment. I presented myself
+immediately to the pope, the great Sixtus V., who then occupied the
+chair of St. Peter. Fortunately, he was my friend, and I had
+formerly been useful to him, in assisting him to carry out his great
+and liberal ideas for the welfare of humanity. As a return, I prayed
+the Holy Father to give me a consecrated hostie for the unhappy
+Queen Mary Stuart, and the permission to carry it to her in her
+prison. The Holy Father was incredulous of my sad presentiments, as
+Mary Stuart herself had been, but he granted me the request. I
+quitted Rome, and travelled with relays day and night. Reaching
+Boulogne, a Dover packet-boat had just raised anchor; I succeeded in
+boarding her, and arrived in London the next evening. The day
+following, the execution of the queen took place at Fotheringay. I
+was with her in her last hours, and from my hand she received the
+consecrated water of Pope Sixtus V. I had kept my oath. I
+accompanied her to the scaffold, and her head rolled at my feet, as
+I had seen it in my vision at Edinburgh. It was the 18th of April,
+1587, and it seems to me as but yesterday. To the intuitive, seeing
+spirit, time and space disappear; eternity and immortality are to it
+omnipresent."
+
+Given up to his souvenirs and visions, the Italian appeared not to
+know where he wandered, and turned unintentionally to the retired,
+lonely places in the park. His companion heeded not the way either,
+occupied with the strange account of the Italian. A dreadful feeling
+of awe and horror took possession of his soul, and, with devoted
+respect, he hung upon the words which fell from the lips of his
+companion.
+
+"It was in the year 1587," said he, as the Italian ceased; "almost
+two hundred years since, and you were present?"
+
+The Italian replied: "I was present. I have witnessed so many
+dreadful scenes, and been present at so many executions, that this
+sad spectacle was not an unusual one to me, and would not have
+remained fixed in my memory had I not loved, devotedly and
+fervently, the beautiful Queen Mary Stuart. For those who live in
+eternity, all horrors have ceased; time rushes past in centuries,
+which seem to them but a day."
+
+"Teach me so to live, master; I thirst for knowledge," cried his
+companion, fervently.
+
+"I know it, my son; I penetrate thy soul, and I know that thou
+thirstest. Therefore I am here to quench thy thirst, and feed thy
+hungry heart." He remained standing upon the grass-plot, which he
+had reached by lonely paths, and which was encircled by trees and
+bushes. Not a sound interrupted the peaceful morning stillness of
+the place, except the distant music of the departing regiments dying
+away on the air. "I will teach thee to live in eternity!" resumed
+the Italian, solemnly. "My predecessor the apostle, George
+Schrepfer, has initiated thee in temporal life, and the knowledge of
+the present. By the pistol-shot, which disclosed to him the
+invisible world, and removed him from our earthly eyes, has he to
+thee, his most faithful and believing disciple, given the great
+doctrine of the decay of all things earthly, and prepared thee for
+the doctrine of the imperishableness of the celestial. The original
+of humanity sends me, to make known to thee this holy doctrine. When
+I met thee in Dresden, at the side of the Countess Dorothea von
+Medem, thee, whom I had never seen, I recognized by the blue flame
+which trembled above thy head, and which was nothing else than the
+soul of thy teacher, Schrepfer, wrestling in anguish, which has
+remained with thee, and hopes for delivery from thee. I greeted
+thee, therefore, not as a stranger but as a friend. No one called
+thy name, and yet it was known to me. I took thee by the hand,
+greeting thee. Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder, be welcome. The blue
+flame which glows upon thy brow, guides me to thee, and the pistol-
+shot under the oaks centuries old, at Rosenthal, near Leipsic, was
+the summons which my spirit received among the pyramids of Egypt,
+and which recalled me to Europe, to my own, and thou art one of
+them."[Footnote: George Schrepfer, the founder of the Secret Free
+Mason Lodge (at the same time proprietor of a restaurant and a
+conjuror), invited his intimate disciples and believers in the year
+1774, to whom Bischofswerder belonged, to meet him at Rosenthal,
+near Leipsic. He assembled them around him, beneath some old oaks,
+to take leave of them, as now he would render himself in the
+invisible realm, whence, as a spirit, he would distribute to some of
+his disciples gold, to others wisdom. He then commanded them to
+conceal their faces and pray. The praying ones suddenly heard a loud
+report, and, as they looked up Schrepfer fell dead. He had shot
+himself with a pistol.]
+
+"And as thou spakest, oh master, I recognized thee, and I called--'
+Thou art here, who hast been announced to me. Thou art the master,
+and my master Schrepfer was the prophet, who preceded thee and
+prophesied thee. Thou art the great Kophta--thou art Count Alexander
+Cagliostro!' As I uttered the name, the lights were extinguished,
+deep darkness and profound stillness reigned. The two countesses
+Dorothea von Medem and her sister, Eliza von der Necke, clung
+trembling to me, neither of them daring to break the silence even
+with a sigh. Suddenly the darkness disappeared, and, with trembling
+flashes of light, there stood written on the wall: 'Memento Domini
+Oagliostro et omnis mansuetudinis ejus.' We sank upon our knees, and
+implored thee to aid us. By degrees the strange, secret characters
+disappeared, and darkness and silence reigned. The stillness
+disquieted me at last, and I called for lights. As the servant
+entered, the two countesses lay fainting upon the floor, and thou
+hadst disappeared."
+
+"Only to appear to thee at another time," said Cagliostro, "to
+receive thee with solemn ceremonies into the magic circle--to
+initiate thee in the secret wisdom of spirits, and prepare thee for
+the invisible lodge. Recall what I said to thee, three days since,
+in Dresden. Do you still remember it?"
+
+"I recall it. Thou saidst: 'The secret service calls me to Mittau,
+with the Countess Medem, to raise hidden treasure, of which the
+spirit has given me knowledge, and decipher important magical
+characters on the walls of a cloister. Before I leave, I will lead
+thee upon the way which thou hast to follow in order to find the
+light, and let it illuminate the soul which is worthy. Follow me,
+and I will lead thee to the path of glory, power, and immortality.'
+These were thy words, master."
+
+"I have now led thee hither," Cagliostro said to him, gently; "thy
+soul doubts and trembles, for thou art blind seeing eyes, and deaf
+with hearing ears."
+
+"My soul doubts not, oh master--it comprehends not. I have followed
+thee, devotedly and believingly. Thou knowest it, master, for thou
+readest the souls of thy children, and seest their hidden thoughts.
+Thou hast said to me in Dresden, 'Renounce your service to the Duke
+of Courland.' I did it, and from equerry and lord chamberlain to the
+duke, became a simple, private gentleman. I have renounced my titles
+and dignities for thee, in happy trust in thee. My future lies in
+thy hands, and, anxious to learn the mysteries of immortality, as a
+grateful, trustful scholar, I would receive happiness and
+unhappiness at thy hand."
+
+"Thou shalt receive not only happiness," said Cagliostro, solemnly,
+"but thou art one of the elect. The blue flame glows upon thy brow,
+it will illuminate thy soul, and lead thee to the path of glory,
+power, and might. To-day thou art a simple, private gentleman, as
+thou sayst, but to-morrow thou wilt become a distinguished lord,
+before whom hundreds will bow. Fame awaits thee--which thou hast
+longed for--as power awaits thee. Whom have I named to thee as our
+future and our hope in this land?"
+
+"Prince Frederick William of Prussia," answered Herr von
+Bischofswerder, humbly.
+
+"As I spake this name, thou trembledst, and calledst him 'one lost
+in sin.' Knowest thou, my son, from sin comes penitence, and from
+penitence elevation and purificatiom. Thou art called and chosen to
+convert sinners, and lead back the earth-born child to heaven.
+Engrave these words upon thy memory, fill thy soul with them, as
+with glowing flames, repeat them in solitude the entire day, then
+heavenly spirits will arise and whisper the revelations of the
+future. Then, when thou art consecrated, I will introduce thee into
+the sacred halls of sublime wisdom. Thou shalt be received as a
+scholar in the temple hall, and it depends upon thee whether thou
+advancest to the altar which reaches to the invisible world of
+miracles."
+
+"Oh, master," cried Bisehofswerder, with a countenance beaming with
+joy, and sinking upon his knees, "wilt thou favor me, and introduce
+me to the temple hall? Shall I be received in the sacred world of
+spirits?"
+
+"Thou shalt, Hans Rudolph yon Bischofswerder. The grand master of
+our order will bestow upon thee this happiness, and to-night shall
+the star of the future rise over thee. Hold thyself in readiness. At
+midnight, present thyself at the first portal of the royal palace in
+Berlin. A man will meet thee, and thou shalt ask, 'Who is our hope?'
+If he answers thee, 'The Prince of Prussia,' then he is the
+messenger which I shall have sent thee--follow him. Bow thy head in
+humility, shut thine eyes to all earthly things, turn thy thoughts
+inward, and lift them up to the great departed, which hovers over
+thy head, and speak with the blue flame which glows upon thy brow!"
+
+Bischofswerder bowed still lower, covered his face with his hands,
+as if inwardly praying, and knelt. Cagliostro bent over him, laid
+his hand upon his head, breathing three times upon his blond hair.
+
+"I have breathed upon thee with the breath of my spirit," said he.
+"Thy spirit receives power. Receive it in holy awe, in devotion, and
+remain immovable."
+
+Bischofswerder continued motionless, with bowed head and concealed
+face. Cagliostro raised himself, his black eyes fixed upon his
+disciple, and noiselessly disappeared. Herr von Bischofswerder still
+remained kneeling. After some time he raised his head, shyly looking
+about, and, as he found himself alone, he rose. "He has soared
+away," he murmured, softly. "I shall see him again, and he will
+consecrate me--the consecration of immortals!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE MIRACULOUS ELIXIR.
+
+
+The king withdrew from the parade slowly, followed by his generals,
+in the direction of Sans-Souci. The streets of Potsdam were lined
+with the people, shouting their farewell to the king, who received
+them with a smiling face. Arriving at the grand entrance, he turned
+to his suite, saying, "Gentlemen, we shall meet again in Bohemia; I
+must now take leave of you, and forego the pleasure of receiving you
+again to-day. A king about to leave for the field has necessary
+arrangements to make for the future. I have much to occupy me, as I
+set out early to-morrow morning. You, also, have duties to attend
+to. Farewell, gentlemen."
+
+He raised his worn-out three-cornered hat, saluted his generals with
+a slight inclination of the head, and turned into the broad avenue
+which led to the park of Sans-Souci. No one followed him but two
+mounted footmen, who rode at a respectful distance, attentively
+regarding the king, of whom only the bowed back and hat were
+visible. Half way down the avenue his staff was raised above his
+hat, the sign the footmen awaited to dismount with the greyhounds,
+which rode before them upon the saddle. At the shrill barking of the
+animals, Frederick reined in his horse, and turned to look for them.
+They bounded forward, one upon each side of the king, who regarded
+them right and left, saying: "Well, Alkmene, well Diana, let us see
+who will be the lady of honor to-day."
+
+Both dogs sprang with loud barking to the horse, as if understanding
+the words of their master. Alkmene, stronger, or more adroit, with
+one bound leaped to the saddle; while poor Diana landed upon the
+crouper, and, as if ashamed, with hanging head and tail, withdrew
+behind the horse. "Alkmene has won!" said Kretzschmar to his
+companion. "Yes, Alkmene is the court-lady to-day, and Diana the
+companion," he nodded. "She will be cross, and I do not blame her."
+
+"Nor I," said Kretzschmar; "there is a great difference between the
+court-lady and the companion. The lady remains with the king all
+day; he plays with her, takes her to walk, gives her bonbons, and
+the choice morsels of chicken, and only when she has eaten
+sufficient, can the companion enter to eat the remainder."
+[Footnote: This was the daily order of rank with the favorite dogs,
+for whose service two dog-lackeys, as they were called, were always
+in waiting. They took them to walk]
+
+"One could almost envy the king's greyhounds!" sighed the second
+footman. "We get dogs' wages, and they the chicken and good
+treatment. It is a pity!"
+
+"The worst of it is, the king forbids us to marry!" said Kretzschmar
+sadly. "All the others would leave him, but I pay no attention to
+old Fritz's snarling and scolding, for he pays for it afterward;
+first, it rains abusive words, then dollars, and if the stupid ass
+hits me over the head, he gives me at least a ducat for it. Why
+should not one endure scoldings when is well paid for it? I remain
+the fine handsome fellow that I am, if the old bear does call me an
+ass! His majesty might well be satisfied if he had my fine figure
+and good carriage."
+
+"Yes, indeed, we are very different fellows from old Fritz!" said
+the second lackey, with a satisfied air. "A princess once thought me
+a handsome fellow! It is eleven years since, as I entered the guards
+on account of my delicate figure. I was guard of honor in the
+anteroom of the former crown princess of Prussia. It was my first
+experience. I did not know the ways of the lords and ladies.
+Suddenly, a charming and beautifully-dressed lady came into the
+anteroom, two other young ladies following her, joking and laughing,
+quite at their pleasure. All at once the elegantly-attired lady
+fixed her large black eyes upon me, so earnestly, that I grew quite
+red, and looked down. 'See that handsome boy,' she cried. 'I will
+bet that it is a girl dressed up!' She ran up to me, and began to
+stroke my cheek with her soft hand, and laughed. 'I am right. He has
+not the trace of a beard; it is a girl!' And before I knew it she
+kissed me, then again, and a third time even. I stood still as if
+enchanted, and, as I thought another kiss was coming, whack went a
+stout box on my ear. 'There is a punishment for you,' said she,
+'that you may know enough to return a kiss when a handsome lady
+gives you when the king did not wish them with him; in summer, in an
+open wagon, the dogs upon the back-seat, and the footmen upon the
+forward seat, and whenever they reproved them, to bring them to
+order, they addressed them in the polite manner of one, and not
+stand like a libber,' and with that she boxed me again. The other
+two ladies laughed, which made me angry, and my ears were very warm.
+'If that happens again,' said I, 'by thunder, she will find I do not
+wait to be punished!' I laid down the arms, and at once sprang after
+the lady, when--the folding-doors were thrown open, and two
+gentlemen, in splendid gold-embroidered dresses, entered. As they
+saw the little lady, they stood astonished, and made the three
+prescribed bows. I smelt the rat, and put on my sword quickly, and
+stood stiff as a puppet. The gentlemen said, that they must beg an
+interview with her royal highness, to deliver the king's commands.
+The princess went into an adjoining room. One of the court-ladies
+stopped before me a moment, and said: 'If you ever dare to tell of
+this, you shall be put in the fortress. Remember it, and keep
+silent.' I did so, and kept it a secret until to-day."
+
+"Did the princess ever punish you again?" asked Kretzchmar, with a
+bold, spying look.
+
+"No, never," answered the lackey Schultz. "The princess was ordered
+to Stettin the next day, where she still lives as a prisoner for her
+gay pranks." I remembered her punishment, and when a lady has kissed
+me, I have bravely returned it."
+
+The footmen had followed the king up the slowly ascending horse-path
+to the terrace, and now they sprang quickly forward. Kretzschmar
+swung himself from his saddle, threw Schultz the reins, and, as the
+king drew up at the side-door of the palace of Sans-Souci, he stood
+ready to assist him to dismount. The king had given strict orders
+that no one should notice his going or coming, and to-day, as usual,
+he entered without pomp or ceremony into his private room, followed
+by Kretzschmar alone. He sank back into his armchair, the blue
+damask covering of which was torn and bitten by the dogs, so that
+the horse-hair stood out from the holes.
+
+"Now relate to me, Kretzschmar, how your expedition succeeded. Did
+you go to Berlin to see Mademoiselle Enke last night?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty, I was there, and have brought you the writing."
+
+"Was she alone?" asked the king, bending over to caress Alkmene, who
+lay at his feet.
+
+"Well," answered Kretzschmar, grinning, "I do not know whether she
+was alone or not. I only know that, as I waited a little on the
+corner of the street, I saw a gentleman go out, wrapped in a cloak,
+a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman, whom I--"
+
+"Whom you naturally did not recognize," said the king, interrupting
+him; "it was a dark night, and no moon, so that you could not see."
+
+"At your service, your majesty, I could see no one; I would only add
+that the unknown may have been at Mademoiselle Enke's."
+
+"And he may not have been," cried the king, harshly. "What else did
+you learn?"
+
+"Nothing at all worth speaking about. Only one thing I must say, the
+lackey Schultz is a prattling fool, and speaks very
+disrespectfully."
+
+"Did he talk with you?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty, with me."
+
+"Then he knows well that it would be welcome. What did he say?"
+
+"He related to me a love-affair with the crown princess of Prussia
+eleven years since. He plumes himself upon the crown princess having
+stroked his beard."
+
+"Be quiet!" commanded the king, harshly. "If Schultz was drunk, and
+talked in a crazy manner, how dare you repeat it to me? Let this
+happen again, and I will dismiss you my service. Remember it, you
+ass!"
+
+"Pardon me, your majesty, I thought I must relate all that I hear of
+importance."
+
+"That was not important, and not worth the trouble of talking about.
+If Schultz is such a drunken fellow I did not know it, and he is to
+be pitied. You can go now; I give you a day to make your farewells
+to your friends, and to console them with the hope of meeting you
+again. Put every thing in order that concerns you. If you have
+debts, pay them."
+
+"I have no money to pay them, your majesty," sighed Kretzschmar.
+
+The king stepped to the iron coffer, of which no one possessed the
+key but himself, and looking within said: "You cannot have much
+money to-day, as the drawer which contains the money for the gossips
+and spies is quite empty, and you have had a good share of it. Five
+guldens remain for you."
+
+"Alas! your majesty, it is too little; twenty-five guldens would not
+pay my debts."
+
+The king closed the drawer, saying: "Judas only received twenty
+shillings for betraying his Master. Twenty-five is quite enough for
+Kretzschmar for betraying his comrade."
+
+Kretzschmar slunk away. The king fixed his great eyes upon him until
+the door closed. "Man is a miserable race; for gold he would sell
+his own brother--would sell his own soul, if there could be found a
+purchaser," he murmured. "Why do you growl, Alkmene, why trouble
+yourself, mademoiselle? I was not speaking of your honorable race;
+only of the pitiful race of men. Be quiet, my little dog, be quiet;
+I love you, and you are my dear little dog," he said, pressing her
+caressingly to his breast.
+
+The footman Schultz appeared to announce the equerry Von Schwerin.
+
+"Bid him enter," nodded the king.
+
+Von Schwerin entered, with a smiling face. "Have you accomplished
+what I confided to you?"
+
+With a profound bow Von Schwerin drew a roll of paper from his
+breast-pocket, and handed it to the king, saying, "I am so fortunate
+as to have accomplished your commands."
+
+"Will Count Schmettau give up the villa at once?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty, the new occupant could take possession to-day,
+with all the furniture and house arrangements, for seven thousand
+five hundred dollars. Here is the bill of sale, only the purchaser's
+name is wanting. I have obeyed your majesty's commands, and acted as
+if I were the purchaser."
+
+"Schmettau is not such a stupid fellow as to believe that, for he
+knows that you cannot keep your money. You say the contract is
+ready, only the signature of the purchaser is wanting and the
+money?"
+
+"Pardon me, your majesty, the name of the present possessor has not
+been inserted. I did not presume to write it without the
+unmistakable command of your majesty."
+
+"Do you know the name?" asked the king.
+
+"I do not, but the generosity of my most gracious king and master
+allows me to divine it, and my heart is filled to bursting with
+thankfulness and joy. My whole life will not be long enough to prove
+to you my gratitude."
+
+"What for?" asked the king, staring at Von Schwerin, quite
+surprised; "you cannot suppose that I have purchased the villa for
+you?"
+
+Herr von Schwerin smilingly nodded. "I think so, your majesty."
+
+Frederick laughed aloud. "Schwerin, you are an uncommonly cunning
+fellow. You see the grass grow before the seed is sown. This time
+you deceived yourself--the grass has not grown. What good would it
+do you? You do not need grass, but thistles, and they do not grow at
+Charlottenburg. Take the contract to my minister Von Herzberg, whom
+you will find in the audience-room, and then walk a little upon the
+terrace to enjoy the fresh air. I promised you the privilege. First
+go to Von Herzberg, and say to him to send the Prince of Prussia to
+me immediately upon his arrival. Why do you wear so mournful a face
+all of a sudden? Can it be possible that my chief equerry has so
+lowered himself as to go among the mechanics, and build chateaux en
+Espagne? You know such houses are not suitable for our northern
+climate, and fall down. Now, do what I told you, and then go upon
+the terrace."
+
+The equerry glided away with sorrowful mien to Von Herzberg, and
+communicated the king's commands to him.
+
+"You have made a good purchase," said the minister, in a friendly
+manner. "His majesty will be very much pleased with the
+extraordinary zeal and the great dexterity with which you have
+arranged the matter. Count Schmettau has just been here, and he
+could not sufficiently commend your zeal and prudence, and the
+sympathy and interest which you showed in the smallest matters, as
+if the purchase were for yourself. The count wishes to reserve two
+oil paintings in the saloon, which are an heirloom from his father.
+We cannot but let the count retain them."
+
+"Arrange it as you will," answered the equerry, fretfully; "I have
+nothing more to do with the affair--it lies in your hands."
+
+"But where are you going in such haste?" said Herzberg, as the
+equerry bowed hastily, and strode through the room toward the door.
+
+"His majesty commanded me to go upon the terrace," he replied,
+morosely.
+
+Herr von Herzberg looked after him surprised. "Something must have
+occurred, otherwise he is very tractable. Ah! there comes the
+prince. I will go to meet him, and communicate to him the king's
+command--I will await your royal highness here until you have spoken
+with the king, if you will have the grace to seek me."
+
+"I will return by all means, if you will have the kindness to wait
+for me," replied the prince, smiling, and hastened to the interview
+with his royal uncle.
+
+Frederick was seated in his arm-chair, upon his lap Alkmene, when
+the crown prince entered. "Bon jour, mon neveu! pardon me," said he,
+with a friendly nod, "that I remain seated, and do not rise to greet
+the future King of Prussia."
+
+"Sire, Heaven grant that many years pass before I succeed to the
+title which my great and unapproachable predecessor has borne with
+so much wisdom and fame, that one can well doubt the being able to
+emulate his example, and must content himself to live under the
+shadow of his intelligence and fame!"
+
+Frederick slowly shook his head. "The people will not be satisfied,
+nor the coffers filled by fame. No one can live upon the great deeds
+of his ancestors; he must be self-sustaining, not seek for the
+laurels in the past, but upon the naked field of the future, which
+lies before him. Sow the seeds of future laurels; fame troubles me
+but little, and I advise you, my nephew, not to rely upon it. One
+must begin anew each day, and make fresh efforts for vigorous
+deeds."
+
+The crown prince bowed, and seated himself upon the tabouret, which
+the king, with a slight wave of the hand, signified to him.
+
+"I will endeavor, sire, to follow the elevated sentiments of your
+majesty, that I may not dishonor my great teacher."
+
+"You express yourself too modestly, my nephew, and I know that you
+think otherwise; that your fiery spirit will never be contented to
+dishonor yourself or your ancestors. Fate is favorable to you, and
+offers the opportunity to confirm, what I judge you to be--a brave
+soldier, a skilful captain--in a word, a true Hohenzollern! I would
+make you a commander of a division of my army, and I shall follow
+every movement--every operation, with lively interest."
+
+A ray of joy beamed upon the face of the prince; Frederick saw it
+with satisfaction, and his heart warmed toward his nephew. "He has
+at least courage," he said to himself; "he is no sybarite to quail
+before the rough life of war."
+
+"Will your majesty so greatly favor me as to accord me an
+independent position in the campaign?"
+
+"I offer you what belongs to you as a general and heir to the
+throne. On me it devolves to direct the plans and operations, and on
+you to detail them and direct the execution. I shall rejoice to see
+that you understand the profession of war practically as well as
+theoretically. Therefore, this war is so far welcome, that it will
+give my crown prince an opportunity to win his first laurels, and
+adorn the brow which, until now, has been crowned with myrtle."
+
+"Your majesty, I--"
+
+"Be silent--I do not reproach you, my nephew; I understand human
+nature, and the seductive arts of women. It is time that you seek
+other ornament--myrtle becomes a youthful brow, and the helmet
+adorns the man crowned with laurels."
+
+"I have long desired it, and I am deeply grateful to your majesty
+for the opportunity to win it. This campaign is good fortune to me."
+
+"War is never a good fortune," sighed the king--" for the people it
+is great misfortune. I would willingly have avoided it for their
+sake. But the arrogance and the passion for territorial
+aggrandizement of the young Emperor of Germany forces me to it. I
+dare not, and will not suffer Austria to enrich herself through
+foreign inheritance, ignoring the legitimate title of a German
+prince. Bavaria must remain an independent, free German
+principality, under a sovereign prince. It is inevitably necessary
+for the balance of power. I cannot yield, therefore, as a German
+prince, that Austria increase her power in an illegitimate manner,
+but I will cast my good sword in the scales, that the balance is
+heavier on the side upon which depends the existence of Germany,
+that she may not be tossed in the air by Austria's weight. These are
+my views and reasons for the war upon which I now enter with
+reluctance. When the greatness and equilibrium of Germany are at
+stake, no German prince should dare hesitate. Austria has already
+cost Germany much blood, and will cause her to shed still more.
+Believe it, my nephew, and guard yourself against Austria's ambition
+for territorial aggrandizement. You see, I am like all old people,
+always teaching youth, while we have much to learn ourselves. We are
+all pupils, and our deeds are ever imperfect."
+
+"Your majesty cannot believe that of himself. The sage of Sans-Souci
+is the type, the master, and teacher of all Europe."
+
+"My son," replied the king, "the great men of antiquity recognized
+it as the acme of wisdom, that they must be mindful that 'in the
+midst of life we are in death.' At the gay festivities and the
+luxurious feasts they were interrupted in the merry song and
+voluptuous dance, with the warning: 'Remember, O man, that thou must
+die!' Let us profit by their wisdom! I have startled you from the
+banquet of life, and I doubt not that many singers and dancers will
+be enraged that I should put an end to the feasts of roses and the
+merry dance in such an abominable manner. It would be an evil omen
+in our warlike undertaking, if the rosy lips of the beauties should
+breathe curses to follow us; therefore, we must try to conciliate
+them, and leave a good souvenir in their hearts. You smile, my
+prince, and you think it vain trouble for an old fellow; that I
+cannot win the favor of the ladies under any pretension; so you must
+undertake for me the reconciliation and the hush-money."
+
+"I am prepared for any thing which your majesty imposes upon me;
+only I would defend myself against the interpretation which you give
+my smile--and--"
+
+"Which was very near the truth," interrupted the king. "I have
+called you from the banquet of life, and I have interrupted the
+dancers, crowned with roses in the midst of their dance, which they
+would finish before you. I pray you, then, indemnify the enraged
+beauties, and let us go forth with a quiet conscience, that we in no
+respect are indebted to any one."
+
+"Oh, sire, it will be impossible for me to go to the field with a
+quiet conscience upon this point."
+
+"Permit me to extend to you the means to do so," replied the king,
+graciously smiling. "Take this little box; it contains a wonderful
+elixir, proof against all the infirmities and weaknesses of
+humanity, of one of the greatest philosophers of human nature. By
+the right use of it, tears of sorrow are changed to tears of joy,
+and a Megerea into a smiling angel, as by enchantment. Before going
+to the war, I pray you to prove the miraculous elixir upon one of
+the angry beauties. For, I repeat, we must put our house in order,
+and leave no debts behind us. The debts of gratitude must not be
+forgotten. Let us say 'Gesegnete Mahlzeit' when we have been well
+feasted."
+
+The king handed the prince a little box, of beautiful workmanship,
+and smiled as he rather vehemently thanked him, and at the same time
+tried to open it.
+
+"I remark with pleasure that you have a tolerably innocent heart, as
+you betray curiosity about the wonderful elixir. I supposed men, to
+say nothing of beautiful women, had long since instructed you that
+it was the only balsam for all the evils of life. My minister
+Herzberg will give you the key of the little box, and advise you as
+to the right use of the elixir. Farewell, with the hope of soon
+seeing you again, my nephew. I start for Silesia to-morrow, as I
+must travel slower than you young people. You will follow me in a
+few days. Again farewell!"
+
+Extending his meagre white hand to the prince, he withdrew it
+quickly, as the latter was about to press it to his lips, and
+motioned to the door kindly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE GOLDEN RAIN.
+
+
+Prince Frederick William betook himself, with painful curiosity, to
+the audience-room, where the Minister von Herzberg awaited him.
+
+"Your excellency," said he, "his majesty refers me to you, for the
+true explanation of the miraculous elixir contained in this little
+box, and about which I am naturally very curious, and beg of you the
+key to open it."
+
+"Will your royal highness," said the minister, smiling, "have the
+grace to grant me a few moments' conversation, which may serve as an
+explanation, for his majesty has not in reality given me a key?"
+
+"I pray you, my dear excellency, to explain it," cried the prince,
+impatiently.
+
+"Pardon me if I probe the tenderest feelings of your heart, my
+prince. The command of the king imposes this duty upon me. He has
+known for a long time of your connection with a certain person, to
+whom you are more devoted than to your wife."
+
+"Say, rather, his majesty has twice forced me to marry two unloved
+and unknown princesses, when he knew that I already loved this
+certain person. Twice I have married, because the command of his
+king is law to the crown prince of Prussia. For my love and my
+sympathy there is no law but that of my own heart, and this alone
+have I followed."
+
+"His majesty does not reproach you. The philosopher of Sans-Souci
+understands human nature, and he feels indulgent toward your
+weakness. He is quite satisfied that you have chosen this person, as
+friend and favorite, to console yourself for an unhappy marriage.
+Her low birth is a guaranty that she will never mingle in politics,
+an act which would be visited with his majesty's highest
+displeasure. While his majesty permits you to continue this
+intimacy, and recognizes the existence of this woman, he wishes her
+to be provided for as becomes the mistress of a crown prince, and
+not as the grisette of a gentleman. She should have her own house,
+and the livery of her lord."
+
+"As if it were my fault that this has not already been arranged!"
+cried the prince. "Am I not daily and hourly tormented with poverty,
+and scarcely know how to turn, between necessary expenses and urgent
+creditors? You know well yourself, your excellency, how stingy and
+parsimonious the king is to the crown prince. He scarcely affords me
+the means to support my family in a decent, to say nothing of a
+princely, manner. How dependent we all are, myself, my wife, and my
+children upon the king, whose economy increases, while our wants and
+expenses also increase every year! It is sufficiently sad that I
+cannot reward those who have proved to me during ten years their
+fidelity and love, but I must suffer them to live in dependence and
+want."
+
+"His majesty understands that, and thinks that as your royal
+highness is to go to the field, and will be exposed, as a brave
+commander, to the uncertain fate of battle, that you should assure
+the future of all those who are dear to you, and arrange a certain
+competency for them. A good opportunity now offers to you. Count
+Schmettau will sell his villa at Charlottenburg, and it would be
+agreeable to his majesty that you should purchase it, and assign it
+to those dearest to you. In order to give you as little trouble as
+possible, his majesty has had the matter already arranged, through
+his equerry, Count Schmettau, and the purchase can be made this very
+hour. Here is the bill of sale; only the name of the present
+possessor is wanting, the signature of the purchaser, and the
+payment of seven thousand five hundred thalers."
+
+"The names can be quickly written; but, your excellency," cried the
+prince, "where will the money come from?"
+
+"I have just given your royal highness the key to the little box:
+have the goodness to press hard upon the rosette."
+
+The prince touched the spring, the cover flew back--it contained
+only a strip of paper! Upon it was written, in the king's own
+handwriting, "Bill of exchange upon my treasurer. Pay to the order
+of the Prince of Prussia twenty thousand thalers." [Footnote:
+"Memoirs of the Countess Lichtenau," vol.1] The prince's face
+lighted up with joy. "Oh! the king has indeed given me a miraculous
+elixir, that compensates for all misfortunes, heals all infirmities,
+and is a balsam for all possible griefs. I will bring it into use
+immediately, and sign the bill of sale." He signed the paper, and
+filled with haste the deficiency in the contract. "It is done!" he
+cried, joyfully, "the proprietress, Wilhelmine Enke; purchaser,
+Frederick William of Prussia. Nothing remains to be done but to draw
+upon the king's treasury, and pay Count Schmettau."
+
+"Your royal highness is spared even that trouble. Here are twenty
+rolls, and each roll contains one hundred double Fredericks d'or,
+and, when your highness commands it, I will reserve seven rolls and
+pay Count Schmettau; then there remain thirteen for yourself. Here
+is the contract, which you will give in person to the possessor."
+
+"First, I must go to the king," said the prince; "my heart urges me
+to express my gratitude to him, and my deep sense of his goodness
+and tenderness. I feel ashamed without being humbled, like a
+repentant son, who has doubted the generosity and goodness of his
+father, because he has sometimes severely reprimanded his faults. I
+must go at once to the king."
+
+"He will not receive your royal highness," answered Herzberg,
+smiling. "You know our sovereign, who so fully deserves our
+admiration and love. His favor and goodness beam upon us all, and he
+desires neither thanks nor acknowledgment. He performs his noble,
+glorious deeds in a harsh manner, that he may relieve the recipients
+of his bounty from the burden of gratitude; and often when he is the
+most morose and harsh, is he at heart the most gracious and
+affectionate. You and yours have experienced it to-day. He appeared
+to be angry, and enveloped himself in the toga of a severe judge of
+morals; but, under this toga, there beat the kind, noble heart of a
+friend and father, who punishes with rigorous words, and forgives
+with generous, benevolent deeds."
+
+"For this I must thank him--he must listen to me!" cried the prince.
+
+"He will be angry if your royal highness forces him to receive
+thanks when he would avoid them. He has expressly commanded me to
+entreat you never to allude to the affair, and never to speak of it
+to others, as it would not be agreeable to his majesty to have the
+family affairs known to the world. You would best please his majesty
+by following exactly his wishes, and when you meet him never allude
+to it. As I have said, this is the express wish and command of the
+king."
+
+"Which I must naturally follow," sighed the prince, "although I
+acknowledge that it is unpleasant to me to receive so much kindness
+from him without at least returning my most heart-felt thanks. Say
+to the king, that I am deeply, sensibly moved with his tender
+sympathy and generosity. And now I will hasten to Wilhelmine Enke;
+but, it occurs to me that it may not be possible; the king has made
+her a prisoner in her own house."
+
+"Do not trouble yourself about that. If it is your royal highness's
+pleasure, drive at once to Charlottenburg. You will find the new
+possessor there and she will relate to you her interview with the
+mayor of Berlin."
+
+"Oh! I shall drive at once to the villa. I am curious to learn what
+Von Kircheisen has told her."
+
+"I imagined that you would be, and ordered your carriage here, as
+you could not well ride upon horseback with the heavy rolls of gold;
+and if it is your pleasure, I will order the footman to place the
+box, into which I have put them, in the carriage."
+
+"No, no; I beg you to let me carry them," cried the prince, seizing
+the box with both hands. "It is truly heavy, but an agreeable
+burden, and if it lames my arm I shall bethink myself of the
+miraculous elixir, which will give me courage and strength.
+Farewell, your excellency; I shall hurry on to Charlottenburg!"
+
+The prince hastened to his carriage, and ordered the coachman to
+drive at full speed to the villa. Thanks to this order, he reached
+it in about an hour. No one was there to receive him upon his
+arrival. The hall was empty, and the rooms were closed. The prince
+passed on to the opposite end, where there was a door open, and
+stood upon a balcony, with steps descending into the garden, which,
+with its flower-beds, grass-plots, shrubbery, and the tall trees,
+formed a lovely background. The birds were singing, the trees
+rustled, and variegated butterflies fluttered over the odorous
+flowers. Upon the turf, forming a beautiful group, was Wilhelmine
+playing with her daughter, and the nurse with the little boy upon
+her lap, who laughingly stretched out his arms toward his mother.
+
+"Wilhelmine--Wilhelmine!" cried the prince.
+
+With a cry of joy she answered, and flew toward the house. "You have
+come at last, my beloved lord," she cried, almost breathless,
+mounting the steps. "I beg you to tell me what all this means? I am
+dying of curiosity!"
+
+"I also," said the prince, smiling. "Have the goodness to lead me to
+one of the rooms, that I may set down this box."
+
+"What does that hobgoblin contain, that it prevents your embracing
+me?"
+
+"Do not ask, but hasten to assist me to relieve myself of the
+burden." They entered the house, and Wilhelmine opened the wide
+folding-doors, which led into a very tastefully-furnished room.
+Frederick William set the box upon the marble table, and sank upon a
+divan with Wilhelmine in his arms. "First of all, tell me what Von
+Kircheisen said to you?"
+
+"He commanded me, in the name of the king, to give up my dwelling at
+Berlin and at Potsdam, and to avoid showing myself in public at both
+places, that those who had the right to the love and fidelity of the
+Prince of Prussia should not be annoyed at the sight of me; that I
+should live retired, and leave the appointed residence as little as
+possible, for then the king would be inclined to ignore my
+existence, and take no further notice of me. But, if I attempted to
+play a role, his majesty would take good care that it should be
+forever played out."
+
+"Those were harsh, cruel words," sighed Frederick William.
+
+"Harsh, cruel words," repeated Wilhelmine, sorrowfully. "They
+pierced my soul, and I shrieked at last from agony. Herr von
+Kircheisen was quite frightened, and begged me to excuse him, that
+he must thus speak to me, but the king had commanded him to repeat
+his very words. The carriage was at the door, he said, ready to
+convey me to my future dwelling, for I must immediately leave
+Berlin, and the king be informed of my setting out. The coachman
+received the order, and here I am, without knowing what I am to do,
+or whether I shall remain here."
+
+"Yes, Wilhelmine, you are to remain here; at last we have a home,
+and a resting-place for our love and our children. This house is
+yours--you are mistress here, and you must welcome me as your
+guest."
+
+"This house is mine!" she cried, joyfully. "Did you give it to me?
+How generous, and how extravagant you are! Protect me with the gift
+of your love, as if you were Jupiter and I Danae!"
+
+"A beautiful picture, and, that it may be a reality, I will play the
+role of Jupiter and open the box."
+
+He took a roll of gold, and let it fall upon Wilhelmine's head, her
+beautiful shoulders, and her arms, like a shower of gold. She
+shrieked and laughed, and sought to gather up the pieces which
+rolled ringing around her upon the floor. The prince seized another
+roll, and another still, till she was flooded with the glistening
+pieces. Then another and another, until Wilhelmine, laughing,
+screamed for grace, and sprang up, the gold rolling around her like
+teasing goblins.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE KING.
+
+
+The Minister Herzberg had, in the mean time, an interview with the
+king, informing him of the concluded purchase of the Schmettau
+villa, and of the emotion and gratitude of the crown prince at his
+royal munificence.
+
+"That affair is arranged, then," said Frederick. "If Fate wills that
+the prince should not return from this campaign, then this certain
+person and the two poor worms are provided for, who are destined to
+wander through the world nameless and fatherless."
+
+"Let us hope that fate will not deal so harshly with the prince, or
+bring such sorrow upon your majesty."
+
+"My dear sir, Fate is a hard-hearted creature, the tears of mankind
+are of no more importance to her than the raindrops falling from the
+roof. She strides with gigantic power over men, crushing them all in
+dust--the great as well as the little--the king as well as the
+beggar. For my part I yield to Fate without a murmur. Politicians
+and warriors are mere puppets in the hands of Providence. We act
+without knowing why, for we are unknowingly the tools of an
+invisible hand. Often the result of our actions is the reverse of
+our hopes! Let all things take their course, as it best pleases God,
+and let us not think to master Fate. [Footnote: The king's words.--
+"Posthumous Works," vol. x., p. 256.] That is my creed, Herzberg,
+and if I do not return from this infamous campaign, you will know
+that I have yielded to Fate without murmuring. You understand my
+wishes in all things; the current affairs of government should go on
+regularly. If any thing extraordinary occurs, let me be informed at
+once. Is there any news, Herzberg?"
+
+"Nothing worth recounting, sire, except that the young Duke of
+Weimar is in town."
+
+"I know it; he has announced himself. I cannot speak with him. I
+have asked my brother Henry to arrange the conditions under which he
+will allow us to enlist men for my army in his duchy. I hope he will
+be reasonable, and not prevent it. That is no news that the Duke of
+Weimar has arrived!"
+
+"Not only the duke has arrived, but he has brought his dear friend
+with him whom the people in Saxe-Weimar say makes the good and bad
+weather."
+
+"Who is the weather-maker?"
+
+"Your majesty, this weather-maker is the author of 'The Sorrows of
+Young Werther,' Johann Wolfgang Goethe, who for four years has
+aroused the hearts and excited the imaginations of all Germany. If I
+am not deceived, a great future opens for this poet, and he will be
+a star of the first magnitude in the sky of German literature. I
+believe it would be well worth the trouble for your majesty to see
+him."
+
+"Do not trouble me with your German literature, and your stars of
+the first magnitude! We must acknowledge our poverty with humility;
+belles-lettres have never achieved success upon our soil. Moreover,
+this star of the first magnitude--this Herr Goethe--I remember him
+well; I wish to know nothing of him. He has quite turned the heads
+of all the love-sick fools with his 'Sorrows of Young Werther.' You
+cannot count that a merit. The youth of Germany were sufficiently
+enamoured, without the love-whining romances of Herr Goethe to pour
+oil on the fire."
+
+"Pardon me, sire, that I should presume to differ from you; but this
+book which your majesty condemns has not only produced a furor in
+Germany, but throughout Europe--throughout the world even. That
+which public opinion sustains in such a marked manner cannot be
+wholly unworthy. 'Vox populi, vox dei,' is a true maxim in all
+ages."
+
+"It is not true!" cried the king. "The old Roman maxim is not
+applicable to our effeminate, degraded people. Nowadays, whoever
+flatters the people and glorifies their weaknesses, is a good
+fellow, and he is extolled to the skies. Public opinion calls him a
+genius and a Messiah. Away with your nonsense! The 'Werther' of Herr
+Goethe has wrought no good; it has made the healthy sick, and has
+not restored invalids to health. Since its appearance a mad love-
+fever has seized all the young people, and silly sentimentalities
+and flirtations have become the fashion. These modern Werthers
+behave as if love were a tarantula, with the bite of which they must
+become mad, to be considered model young men. They groan and sigh,
+take moonlight walks, but they have no courage in their souls, and
+will never make good soldiers. This is the fault of Herr Werther,
+and his abominable lamentations.
+
+It is a miserable work, and not worth the trouble of talking about,
+for no earnest man will read it!"
+
+"Pardon me, sire; your majesty has graciously permitted me to enter
+the lists as knight and champion of German literature, and sometimes
+to defend the German Muse, who stands unnoticed and unknown under
+the shadow of your throne; while the French lady, with her brilliant
+attire and painted cheeks, is always welcomed. I beg your majesty to
+believe that, although this romance may have done some harm, it has,
+on the other hand, done infinite service. A great and immortal merit
+cannot be denied to it."
+
+"What merit?" demanded the king, slowly taking a pinch of snuff; "I
+am very curious to know what merit that crazy, love-sick book has."
+
+"Sire, it has the great merit to have enriched the German literature
+with a work whose masterly language alone raises it above every
+thing heretofore produced by a German author. It has emancipated our
+country's literature from its clumsy, awkward childhood, and
+presented it as an ardent, inspired youth, ready for combat, upon
+the lips of whom the gods have placed the right word to express
+every feeling and every thought--a youth who is capable of probing
+the depths of the human heart."
+
+"I wish all this might have remained in the depths," cried
+Frederick, annoyed. "You have defended the German Muse before; but
+you remember that I am incorrigible. You cannot persuade me that
+bungling is master-work. It is not the poverty of the mind, but the
+fault of the language, which is not capable of expressing with
+brevity and precision. For how could any one translate Tacitus into
+German without adding a mass of words and phrases? In French it is
+not necessary; one can express himself with brevity, and to the
+point."
+
+"Sire, I shall permit myself to prove to you that the brevity of
+Tacitus can be imitated in the German language. I will translate a
+part of Tacitus, to give your majesty a proof."
+
+"I will take you at your word! And I will answer you in a treatise
+upon German literature, its short-comings, and the means for its
+improvement. [Footnote: This treatise appeared during the Bavarian
+war of succession, in the winter of 1779] Until then, a truce. I
+insist upon it--good German authors are entirely wanting to us
+Germans. They may appear a long time after I have joined Voltaire
+and Algarotti in the Elysian Fields." [Footnote: The king's words.--
+See "Posthumous Works," vol. II., p. 293.]
+
+"They are already here," cried Herzberg, zealously. "We have, for
+example, Lessing, who has written two dramas, of which every nation
+might be proud--'Minna von Barnhelm, and Emilia Calotti.'"
+
+"I know nothing of them," said the king, with indifference. "I have
+never heard of your Lessing."
+
+"Your majesty, this wonderful comedy, 'Minna von Barnhelm,' was
+written for your majesty's glorification."
+
+"The more the reason why I should not read it! A German comedy! That
+must be fine stuff for the German theatre, the most miserable of
+all. In Germany, Melpomene has untutored admirers, some walking on
+stilts, others crawling in the mire, from the altars of the goddess.
+The Germans will ever be repulsed, as they are rebels to her laws,
+and understand not the art to move and interest the heart."
+
+"But, sire, you have never deigned to become acquainted with 'Minna
+von Barnhelm' nor 'Emilia Calotti.'"
+
+"Well, well, Herzberg, do not be so furious; you are a lover of
+German literature, and some allowance must be made for those who are
+in love. You will not persuade me to read your things which you call
+German comedies and tragedies. I will take good care; my teeth are
+not strong enough to grind such hard bits. Now do not be angry,
+Herzberg. The first leisure hours that I have in this campaign I
+shall employ on my treatise."
+
+"And the first leisure hours that I have," growled the minister, "I
+shall employ to translate a portion of Tacitus into our beautiful
+German language, to send to your majesty."
+
+"You are incorrigible," said Frederick, smiling. "We shall see, and
+until then let us keep the peace, Herzberg. When one is about to go
+to war, it is well to be at peace with one's conscience and with his
+friends; so let us be good friends."
+
+"Your majesty, your graciousness and kindness make me truly
+ashamed," said the minister, feelingly. "I beg pardon a thousand
+times, if I have allowed myself to be carried away with unbecoming
+violence in my zeal for our poor neglected German literature."
+
+"I approve of your zeal, and it pleases me that you are a faithful
+knight, sans peur et sans reproche. I do not ascribe its poverty to
+the German nation, who have as much spirit and genius as any nation,
+the mental development of which has been retarded by outward
+circumstances, which prevented her rising to an equality with her
+neighbors. We shall one day have classical writers, and every one
+will read them to cultivate himself. Our neighbors will learn
+German, and it will be spoken with pleasure at courts; and it can
+well happen that our language, when perfectly formed, will spread
+throughout Europe. We shall have our German classics also."
+[Footnote: The king's words--see "Posthumous Works," vol. III.]
+
+The king smiled, well pleased, as he observed by stolen glances the
+noble, intelligent face of Herzberg brighten, and the gloomy clouds
+dispersed which had overshadowed it.
+
+"Now, is it not true that you are again contented?" said the king,
+graciously.
+
+"I am delighted with the prophecy for the German language, your
+majesty; and may I add something?"
+
+"It will weigh on your heart if you do not tell it," said the king.
+
+"I prophesy that this Goethe will one day belong to the classic
+authors, and therefore I would beg once more of your majesty to
+grant him a gracious look, and invite him to your presence. If you
+find no pleasure in 'The Sorrows of Werther,' Goethe has created
+other beautiful works. He is the author of the tragedy of 'Stella.'"
+
+"That sentimental, immoral piece, which we forbid the representation
+of in Berlin, because it portrays a fellow who made love to two
+women at once, playing the double role of lover to his wife and his
+paramour, while he had a grown-up daughter! It is an immoral piece,
+which excites the tear-glands, and ends as 'Werther,' by the hero
+blowing his brains out. It is directed against all morals, and
+against marriage; therefore it was forbidden." [Footnote: The
+tragedy of "Stella" was represented in Berlin with great applause,
+and denounced by the king as immoral, in the year 1776, and the
+further representation forbidden.--See Plumke, "History of the
+Berlin Theatres."]
+
+"But, sire, Herr Goethe has not only written 'Stella,' but 'Clavigo'
+also, which--"
+
+"Which he has copied exactly from the 'Memoires de Beaumarchais,'"
+interrupted the king. "That is not a German, but a French
+production."
+
+"Allow me to cite a genuine German production, which Johann Wolfgang
+Goethe has written. I mean the drama 'Gotz von Berlichingen.' "
+
+"Stop!--it is sufficient. I do not wish to hear any thing more,"
+cried the king, indignant, and rising. "It is bad enough that such
+pieces should appear upon the German stage as this 'Gotz von
+Berlichingen.' They are nothing less than abominable imitations of
+the bad English pieces of Shakespeare! The pit applauds them, and
+demands with enthusiasm these very disgusting platitudes. [Footnote:
+The king's own words.--See "Posthumous Works," vol. iii.] Do not be
+angry again, you must have patience with the old boy! I shall
+rejoice heartily if this Herr Goethe becomes a classic writer one
+day, as you say. I shall not live to witness it. I only see the
+embryo where you see the full-grown author. We will talk further
+about it when we meet in the Elysian Fields; then we will see, when
+you present this Herr Johann Wolfgang Goethe, as a German classic
+writer, to Homer, Horace, Virgil, and Corneille, if they do not turn
+their backs upon him. Now adieu, Herzberg! So soon as circumstances
+permit, I shall send for you to go to Silesia, and then you can give
+me your German translation of Tacitus."
+
+The king nodded in a friendly manner to his minister, and slowly
+walked back and forth, while he took leave and withdrew. After a few
+moments he rang, and the summons was immediately answered by the
+footman Schultz.
+
+The king fixed upon him one of those searching glances of his fiery
+eyes which confounded and confused the footman. He remained standing
+and embarrassed, with downcast look.
+
+"What are you standing there for?" asked the king. "Did I not ring
+for you, and do you not know what you have to do?" Frederick
+continued to regard him, with flashing eyes, which increased the
+lackey's confusion.
+
+He forgot entirely that the summons was for his majesty's lunch, and
+all that he had to do was to open the door to the adjoining room,
+where it stood already prepared.
+
+Frederick waited a moment, but the footman still stood irresolute,
+when his majesty indicated to him to approach.
+
+He approached, staggering under the puzzling glance of his master.
+
+"Oh! I see what it is," said Frederick, shrugging his shoulders;
+"you are drunk again, as you often are, and--"
+
+"Your majesty," cried Schultz, amazed, "I drunk!"
+
+"Silence!--will you be bold enough to reason with me? I say that you
+are drunk, and I want no drunken footmen. They must be well-behaved,
+sober fellows, who keep their ears open and their mouths shut--who
+are neither drunkards nor gossips, and do not take for truth what
+they have experienced in their drunken fits. I do not want such
+fellows as you are at all; you are only fit food for cannon, and for
+that you shall serve. Go to General Alvensleben, and present
+yourself to enter the guards. You are lucky to go to the field at
+once; to-morrow you will set off. Say to the general that I sent
+you, and that you are to enter as a common soldier."
+
+"But, your majesty, I do not know what I have done," cried Schultz,
+whiningly. "I really am not drunk. I--"
+
+"Silence!" thundered the king. "Do as I command you! Go to General
+Alvensleben, and present yourself to enter the guards at once. Away
+with you! I do not need drunken, gossiping footmen in my service.
+Away with you!"
+
+The footman slunk slowly away, his head hanging down, with
+difficulty restraining the tears which stood in large drops in his
+eyes.
+
+The king followed him with his glance, which softened and grew
+gentler from sympathy. "I pity him, the poor fellow! but I must
+teach him a lesson. I want no gossips around me. He need only wear
+the uniform two weeks or so, that will bring him to reason. Then I
+will pardon him, and receive him into my service again. He is a
+good-natured fellow, and would not betray any one as Kretzschmar
+betrayed him."
+
+The king stepped to the window to look at the gentleman who was
+eagerly engaged in conversation with the castellan of Sans-Souci. At
+this instant the footman entered with a sealed note for the king.
+"From his royal highness Prince Henry," said he.
+
+"Who brought it?"
+
+"The gentleman who speaks with the castellan upon the terrace. I
+wait your majesty's commands."
+
+"Wait, then." The note ran thus: "Your majesty, my dearly-beloved
+brother: The bearer, Johann Wolfgang Goethe, one of the literati,
+and a poet, and at this time secretary of legation to the duchy of
+Saxe-Weimar, is a great favorite of the duke's, our nephew. I met
+him returning from the parade in company with the duke, who
+expressed to me the strong desire his secretary had to visit the
+celebrated house of the great philosopher of Sans-Souci, and see the
+room once occupied by Voltaire. I could not well refuse, and
+therefore address these few lines to your majesty before returning
+to Berlin with the duke, who will dine with me, accompanied by his
+secretary." I am your majesty's most humble servant and brother,
+HENRY."
+
+"Tell the castellan that I grant him permission to show the house
+and park to the stranger; he shall take care not to come in my way,
+so that I shall be obliged to meet him. Tell this aside, that you
+may not be overheard. Hasten, for they have already been waiting
+some time."
+
+The king walked again to the window, and, hidden by the curtain,
+peeped out. "So, this is Herr Goethe, is it? What assurance! There
+he stands, sketching the house. What wonderful eyes the man has!
+With what a proud, confident manner he looks around! What a brow!
+Truly he is a handsome fellow, and Herzberg may be right after all.
+That brow betokens thought, and from those eyes there flashes a
+divine light. But he looks overbearing and proud. Now, I am doubly
+pleased that I refused Herzberg to have any thing to do with him.
+Such presumptive geniuses must be rather kept back; then they feel
+their power, and strive to bring themselves forward. Yes! I believe
+that man has a future. He looks like the youthful god Apollo, who
+may have condescended to descend to earth! He shall not entrap me
+with his beautiful head. If he is the man who makes good and bad
+weather in Weimar, he shall learn that rain and sunshine at Sans-
+Souci do not depend upon him; that the sun and clouds here do not
+care whether Herr Goethe is in the world or not. For sunshine and
+storm we depend upon the Great Weather-Maker, to whom we must all
+bow; evil and good days in Prussia shall emanate from me, so long as
+I live. Sometimes I succeed in causing a little sunshine," continued
+the king. "I believe the Prince of Prussia has to-day felt the happy
+influence of the sun's rays; and while it is dull and lonely at
+Sans-Souei, may it be brighter and more cheerful at Charlottenburg!
+Eh bien! old boy," said the king, stopping, "you are playing the
+sentimental, and eulogizing your loneliness. Well, well, do not
+complain.--Oh, come to me, spirits of my friends, and hold converse
+with me! Voltaire, D'Argens, and my beloved Lord-Marshal Keith! Come
+to me, departed souls, with the memories of happier days, and hover
+with thy cheering, sunny influence over the wrinkled brow of old
+Fritz!"
+
+While the lonely king implored the spirits of his friends, to
+brighten with their presence the quiet, gloomy apartment at Sans-
+Souci, the sun shone in full splendor at Charlottenburg--the
+sunshine beaming from the munificence of Frederick. Wilhelmine Enke
+had passed the whole day in admiring the beautiful and tasteful
+arrangement of the villa. Every piece of furniture, every ornament,
+she examined attentively--all filled her with delight. The prince,
+who accompanied her from room to room, listened to her outbursts of
+pleasure, rejoicing.
+
+"I wish that I could often prepare such happiness for you, dearest,
+for my heart is twice gladdened to see your beaming face."
+
+"Reflected from your own. You are my good genius upon earth. You
+have caused the poor, neglected child to become the rich and happy
+woman. To you I owe this home, this foot of earth, which I can call
+my own. Here blossom the flowers for me--here I am mistress, and
+those who enter must come as my guests, and honor me. All this I owe
+to you."
+
+"Not to me," said the prince, smiling; "I only gave to you what was
+given to me! To the king belong your thanks. Harsh in words, but
+gentle in deeds, he has given you this refuge, freeing you from the
+slavery of poverty, from the sorrow of being homeless. But tell it
+not, Wilhelmine. The king would be angry if it were known that he
+not only tolerated but showed great generosity to you. It is a
+secret that I ought not even to disclose to you. I could not receive
+your thanks, for I have not deserved them. From the king comes your
+good fortune, not from me. The day will come when I can requite you,
+when the poor crown prince becomes the rich king. On that day the
+golden rain shall again shower upon you, never to cease, and, vying
+with the shower of gold, the brightest sunbeams play continually
+around you. As king, I will reward your fidelity and love, which you
+have proved to the poor crown prince, with splendor, power, and
+riches. Until then rejoice with the little that his grace has
+accorded you, and await the much that love will one day bring you.
+Farewell, Wilhelmine, the evening sets in, and I must forth to
+Potsdam. The king would never pardon me if I did not pass the last
+evening with my wife in the circle of my family. Farewell!"
+
+He embraced her tenderly, and Wilhelmine accompanied the prince to
+the carriage, and returned to survey anew the beautiful rooms which
+were now her own possession. An unspeakable, unknown feeling was
+roused in her, and voices, which she had never heard, spoke to her
+from the depths of her heart. "You are no longer a despised,
+homeless creature," they whispered. "You have a home, a foot of
+earth to call your own. Make yourself a name, that you may be of
+consequence in the world. You are clever and beautiful, and with
+your prudence and beauty you can win a glorious future! Remember the
+Marquise de Pompadour, neglected and scorned as you, until a king
+loved her, and she became the wife of a king, and all France bowed
+down to her. Even the Empress Maria Theresa honored her with her
+notice, and called her cousin. I am also the favorite of a future
+king, and I will also become the queen of my king!"
+
+Wilhelmine had remained standing in the midst of the great drawing-
+room, which she was passing through, listening to these seductive
+voices, to these strange pictures of the future. In her imagination
+she saw herself in this room surrounded with splendor and
+magnificence, and sparkling with gems. She saw around her elegantly-
+attired ladies and gentlemen, in brilliant uniforms, glittering with
+orders; saw every-where smiling faces, and respectful manners. She
+saw all eyes turned to her, and heard only flattering words, which
+resounded for her from every lip--for her, once so despised and
+scorned! "It shall be, yes, it shall be," cried she aloud. "I will
+be the queen of my king! I will become the Prussian Marquise de
+Pompadour; that I swear by the heads of my children, by--"
+
+"Rather swear by thy own beautiful head, Wilhelmine," said a voice
+behind her. Startled, she turned, and beheld the tall figure of a
+man, wrapped in a long cloak, who stood in the open door.
+
+"Who are you?" she cried, amazed. "How dare you enter here?"
+
+The figure closed the door, without answering, and, slowly
+approaching Wilhelmine, fixed his black eyes upon her with a
+searching gaze. She tried to summon help, but the words died on her
+lips; her cheeks blanched with terror, and, as if rooted to the
+floor, she stood with outstretched arms imploring the approaching
+form. The figure smiled, but there was something commanding in its
+manner, and in the fiery eyes, which rested upon her. When quite
+near her, it raised its right hand with an impatient movement.
+Immediately her arms fell at her side, her cheeks glowed, and a
+bright smile lighted up her face. Then it lifted the three-cornered,
+gold-bordered hat which shaded its face, nodding to her.
+
+"Do you recognize me, Wilhelmine?" he asked, in a sweet, melodious
+voice.
+
+"Yes," she answered, her eyes still fixed upon him. "You are
+Cagliostro, the great ruler and magician."
+
+"Where did we meet?"
+
+"I remember; it was in Paris, at the house of the governor of the
+Bastile, M. Delaunay. You caused me to read in a glass the future--a
+bright, glorious future. I was surrounded with splendor and
+magnificence. I saw myself glittering with gems; a king knelt at my
+feet. I was encircled by richly-attired courtiers, who bowed before
+me, and honored me, whispering: 'We salute you, O beautiful
+countess; be gracious to us, exalted princess!' It sounded like
+heavenly music, and I shouted with delight."
+
+"Was that all?" said Cagliostro, solemnly, "that the crystal showed
+you."
+
+Shuddering, she murmured: "The splendor, glory, and power vanished,
+and all was changed to a fearful picture. I saw myself in a plain,
+dark dress, in a deserted, lonely room, with iron-barred windows,
+and a small iron door closed in the dreary white walls--it was a
+prison! And I heard whispered around me: 'Woe to you, fallen and
+dethroned one! You have wasted away the days of your splendor,
+submit in patience to the days of your shame and humiliation.' I
+could not endure to behold it, and screamed with terror, fainting."
+
+"You demanded to see the future, and I showed it to you," said
+Cagliostro, earnestly. "Though I let the light shine into your soul,
+still it was dark within; you pursued the way of unbelief, and
+desired not to walk in the way of knowledge. I sent messengers twice
+to you to lead you in the right path, and you sent them laughing
+away. Recall what I told you in Paris. I will it!"
+
+"I remember, master; you said that in the most important days of my
+life you would come to me, and extend to me a helping hand: if I
+seized it, the first picture would be fulfilled; if I refused it,
+the prison awaited me!"
+
+"I have kept my word: to-day is an eventful day in your life; you
+have risen from want and degradation--you have mounted the first
+rounds of the ladder of your greatness and power. You are the
+mistress of this house." "How did you know it?" asked Wilhelmine,
+astonished. With a pitying smile he answered: "I know every thing
+that I will, and I see many things that I would willingly close my
+eyes upon. I see your future, and my soul pities you, unhappy one;
+you are lost if you do not seize the hand extended to you. You see
+not the abyss which opens before you, and you will fall bleeding and
+with broken limbs."
+
+"Mercy, mercy!" she groaned--"stretch out your hand and protect me."
+Wilhelmine sank as if crushed to the earth. Cagliostro bent over
+her, and stroked her cold, pale face, breathing upon her the hot
+breath of his lips. "I will pity you--I will protect you. Rise, my
+daughter!" He assisted her to rise, and imprinted a passionate kiss
+upon her hand. "From this hour I count you as one of mine," he said;
+"you shall be received into the holy band of spirits! You shall be
+consecrated, and enter the Inner Temple. Are you prepared?" "I am,
+master," she humbly replied.
+
+"To-morrow the Temple brothers will open the temple of bliss to you.
+You shall hear, see, and be silent." "I will see, hear, and be
+silent," she murmured.
+
+"When evening sets in, send away your servants," commanded
+Cagliostro. "Let the doors stand open; they shall be guarded, that
+no one may enter but the summoned. Art thou prepared?"
+
+"I am, master!"
+
+"Withdraw now to your room, Wilhelmine, and elevate your thoughts in
+devotion and contrition, and await the future. Kneel, my daughter,
+kneel!" She sank upon her knees. "Bless me, master, bless me!" "I
+bless you!"
+
+She felt a hot, burning sensation upon her forehead, and suddenly a
+bright light shone in the obscure room. Wilhelmine screamed, and
+covered her eyes. When she ventured to look up, only soft moonlight
+penetrated from the high window into the apartment, and she was
+alone. "To-morrow--to-morrow, at midnight!" she murmured,
+shuddering, and casting a timid look around.
+
+
+
+
+BOOK II.
+
+ROSICRUCIANS AND POWERFUL GENIUSES
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+GOETHE IN BERLIN.
+
+
+"I wish I only knew whether it were a man, or whether the god Apollo
+has really appeared to me in human form," sighed Conrector Moritz,
+as he paced his room--a strange, gloomy apartment, quite in keeping
+with the singular occupant--gray walls, with Greek apothegms
+inscribed upon them in large letters--dirty windows, pasted over
+with strips of paper; high, open book-shelves, containing several
+hundred books, some neatly arranged, others thrown together in
+confusion. In the midst of a chaos of books and papers stood a
+colossal bust of the Apollo-Belvedere upon a table near the window,
+the whiteness and beauty of which were in singular contrast, to the
+dust and disorder which surrounded it.
+
+At the back of the room was an open wardrobe, filled with gay-
+colored garments. A beautiful carpet of brilliant colors covered the
+middle of the dirty floor, and upon this paced to and fro the
+strange occupant of this strange room, Philip Charles Moritz,
+conrector of the college attached to the Gray Monastery. There was
+no trace of the bearing and demeanor which distinguished him at the
+parade at Potsdam yesterday--no trace of the young elegant, dressed
+in the latest fashion. To-day he wore a white garment, of no
+particular style, tied at the neck with a red ribbon (full sleeves,
+buttoned at the wrist with lace-cuffs); and, falling from the
+shoulders in scanty folds to just below the knees, it displayed his
+bare legs, and his feet shod with red sandals.
+
+His hair was unpowdered, and not tied in a cue, according to the
+fashion, but hung in its natural brown color, flowing quite loosely,
+merely confined by a red ribbon wound in among his curls, and
+hanging down in short bows at each temple like the frontlet of the
+old Romans. Thus, in this singular costume, belonging half to old
+Adam, and half to the old Romans, Philip Moritz walked back and
+forth upon the carpet, ruminating upon the beaming beauty of the
+stranger whose acquaintance he had so recently made, and whom he
+could not banish from his thoughts. "What wicked demon induced me to
+go to Potsdam yesterday?" said he to himself. "I who hate mankind,
+and believe that they are all of vulgar, ordinary material, yield to
+the longing for society, and am driven again into the world."
+
+A loud knocking at the door interrupted this soliloquy, and the door
+opened at the commanding "Come in!"
+
+"It is he, it is Apollo," cried Moritz, joyfully. "Come in, sir,
+come in--I have awaited you with the most ardent desire."
+
+Moritz rushed to the young gentleman, who had just closed the door,
+and whose beautiful, proud face lighted up with a smile at the
+singular apparition before him. "Pardon me, I disturb you, sir; you
+were about to make your toilet. Permit me to return after you have
+dressed."
+
+"You are mistaken," cried Moritz, eagerly. "You find me in my usual
+home-dress--I like my ease and freedom, and I am of opinion that
+mankind will never be happy and contented until they return to their
+natural state, wearing no more clothing, but glorying in the beauty
+which bountiful Nature has bestowed upon her most loved and chosen
+subjects."
+
+"Sir," cried the other, laughing, "then benevolent Nature should
+adapt her climate accordingly, and relieve her dear creatures from
+the inclination to take cold."
+
+"You may be right," said Moritz, earnestly, "but we will not quarrel
+about it. Will you not keep your promise to reveal to me your name?"
+
+"Tell me your own once more. Tell me if this youth, whom I see
+before me in this ideal dress, is the same modest young man whom I
+met at the parade yesterday, and who presented himself as Philip
+Moritz? Then please to inform me whether you are the Philip Moritz
+who wrote a spirited and cordial letter to Johann Wolfgang Goethe
+some years since about the tragedy of 'Stella,' the representation
+of which had been forbidden at that time?"
+
+"Yes, I am the same Philip Moritz, who wrote to the poet Goethe to
+prove to him, with the most heart-felt sympathy, that we are not all
+such stupid fellows in Berlin as Nicolai, who pronounced the tragedy
+'Stella' immoral; that it is only, as Goethe himself called it, 'a
+play for lovers.'"
+
+"And will you not be kind enough to tell me what response the poet
+made to your amiable letter?"
+
+"Proud and amiable at the same time, most gracefully he answered me,
+but not with words. He sent me his tragedy 'Stella' bound in rose-
+colored satin. [Footnote: "Goethe in Berlin,"--Sketches from his
+life at the anniversary of his one hundredth birthday.] See there!
+it is before the bust of Apollo on my writing-table, where it has
+lain for three years!"
+
+"What did he write to you at the same time?"
+
+"Nothing--why should he? Was not the book sufficient answer?"
+
+"Did he write nothing? Permit me to say to you that Goethe behaved
+like a brute and an ass to you!"
+
+"Sir," cried Moritz, angrily, "I forbid you to speak of my favorite
+in so unbecoming a manner in my room!"
+
+"Sir," cried the other, "you dare not forbid me. I insist upon it
+that that man is sometimes a brute and an ass! I can penitently
+acknowledge it to you, dear Moritz, for I am Johann Wolfgang Goethe
+himself!"
+
+"You, you are Goethe!" shouted Moritz, as he seized him with both
+hands, drawing him toward the window, and gazing at him with the
+greatest enthusiasm and delight. "Yes, yes," he shouted, "you are
+either Apollo or Goethe! The gods are not so stupid as to return to
+this miserable world, so you must be Goethe. No other man would dare
+to sport such a godlike face as you do, you favorite of the gods!"
+
+He then loosed his hold upon the smiling poet, and sprang to the
+writing-table. "Listen, Apollo," he cried, with wild joy. "Goethe is
+here, thy dear son is here! Hurrah! long live Goethe!"
+
+He took the rose-colored little book, and shouting tossed it to the
+ceiling, and sprang about like a mad bacchant, and finally threw
+himself upon the carpet, rolling over and over like a frolicksome,
+good-natured child upon its nurse's lap.
+
+Goethe laughed aloud. "What are you doing, dear Moritz? What does
+this mean?" he asked.
+
+Moritz stopped a moment, looking up to Goethe with a face beaming
+with joy. "I cannot better express my happiness. Language is too
+feeble--too poor!"
+
+"If that is the case, then I will join you," said Goethe, throwing
+himself upon the carpet, rolling and tumbling about. [Footnote: This
+scene which I relate, and which Teichman also mentions in his
+"Leaves of Memory of Goethe in Berlin," has been often related to me
+by Ludwig Tieck exactly in this manner. Teichman believes it was the
+poet Burman. But I remember distinctly that Ludwig Tieck told me
+that it was the eccentric savant, Philip Moritz, with whom Goethe
+made the acquaintance in this original manner.--The Authoress.]
+
+All at once Moritz jumped up without saying a word, rushed to the
+wardrobe, dressed himself in modest attire in a few moments, and
+presented himself to Goethe, who rose from the carpet quite
+astounded at the sudden metamorphosis. Then he seized his three-
+cornered hat to go out, when Goethe held him fast.
+
+"You are not going into the street, sir! You forget that your hair
+is flying about as if unloosed by a divine madness."
+
+"Sir, people are quite accustomed to see me in a strange costume,
+and the most of them think me crazy."
+
+"You are aware that insane people believe that they only are sane,
+and that reasonable people are insane. You will grant me that it is
+much more like a crazy person to strew his hair with flour, and tie
+it up in that ridiculous cue, than to wear it as God made it,
+uncombed and unparted, as I do my beautiful hair, and for which they
+call me crazy! But, for Heaven's sake, where are you going?" asked
+Goethe, struggling to retain him.
+
+"I am going to trumpet through every street in Berlin that the
+author of 'Werther,' of 'Clavigo,' of 'Gotz von Berlichingen,' of
+'Stella,' of the most beautiful poems, is in my humble apartment. I
+will call in all the little poets and savants of Berlin; I will drag
+Mammler, Nicolai, Engel, Spaulding, Gedicke, Plumicke, Karschin, and
+Burman here. They shall all come to see Wolfgang Goethe, and adore
+him. The insignificant poets shall pay homage to thee, the true
+poet, the favorite of Apollo."
+
+"My dear Moritz, if you leave me for that, I will run away, and you
+will trouble yourself in vain."
+
+"Impossible; you will be my prisoner until I return. I shall lock
+you in, and you cannot escape by the window, as I fortunately live
+on the third story."
+
+"But I shall not wait to be looked in," answered Goethe, slightly
+annoyed. "I came to see you, and if you run away I shall go also,
+and I advise you not to try to prevent me." His voice resounded
+through the apartment, growing louder as he spoke, his cheeks
+flushed, and his high, commanding brow contracted.
+
+"Jupiter Tonans!" cried Moritz, regarding him, "you are truly
+Jupiter Tonans in person, and I bow before you and obey your
+command. I shall remain to worship you, and gaze at you."
+
+"And it may be possible to speak in a reasonable manner to me," said
+Goethe, coaxingly. "Away with sentimentality and odors of incense!
+We are no sybarites, to feed on sweet-meats and cakes; but we are
+men who have a noble aim in view, attained only by a thorny path.
+Our eyes must remain fixed upon the goal, and nothing must divert
+them from it."
+
+"What is the aim that we should strive for?" asked Moritz, his whole
+being suddenly changing, and his manner expressing the greatest
+depression and sadness.
+
+Goethe smiled. "How can you ask, as if you did not know it yourself.
+Self-knowledge should be our first aim! The ancient philosophers
+were wise to have inscribed over the entrances to their temples,
+'Know thyself,' in order to remind all approaching, to examine
+themselves before they entered the halls of the gods. Is not the
+human heart equally a temple? only the demons and the gods strive
+together therein, unfortunately. To drive the former out, and give
+place to the latter, should be our aim; and when once purified, and
+room is given for good deeds and great achievements, we shall not
+rest satisfied simply to conquer, but rise with gladness to build
+altars upon those places which we have freed from the demons; for
+that, we must steadily keep in view truth and reality, and not hide
+them with a black veil, or array them in party-colored rags. Our
+ideas must be clear about the consequences of things, that we may
+not be like those foolish men who drink wine every evening and
+complain of headache every morning, resorting to preventives."
+
+Did Goethe know the struggles and dissensions which rent the heart
+of the young man to whom he spoke? Had his searching eyes read the
+secrets which were hidden in that darkened soul? He regarded him as
+he spoke with so much commiseration that Moritz's heart softened
+under the genial influence of sympathy and kindness. A convulsive
+trembling seized him, his cheeks were burning red, and his features
+expressed the struggle within. Suddenly he burst into tears. "I am
+very, very wretched," he sighed, with a voice suffocated by weeping,
+and sank upon a chair, sobbing aloud, and covering his face with his
+hands.
+
+Goethe approached him, and laid his hand gently upon his shoulder.
+"Why are you so miserable? Is there any human being who can help
+you?" he kindly inquired.
+
+"Yes," sobbed Moritz; "there are those who could, but they will not,
+and I am lost. I stand upon the brink of a precipice, with Insanity
+staring at me, grinning and showing her teeth. I know it, but cannot
+retreat. I wear the mask of madness to conceal my careworn face.
+Your divine eyes could not be deceived. You have not mistaken the
+caricature for the true face. You have penetrated beneath the gay
+tatters, and have seen the misery which sought to hide itself
+there."
+
+"I saw it, and I bewailed it, as a friend pities a friend whom he
+would willingly aid if he only knew how to do it."
+
+"No one can help me," sighed Moritz, shaking his head mournfully. "I
+am lost, irremediably lost!"
+
+"No one is lost who will save himself. He who is wrecked by a storm
+and tossed upon the raging sea, ought to be upon the watch for a
+plank by which he can save himself. He must keep his eyes open, and
+not let his arms hang idly; for if he allows himself to be swallowed
+up he becomes a self-murderer, who, like Erostratus, destroyed the
+holy temple, and gained eternal fame through eternal shame."
+
+"What are you saying?" cried Moritz, "you, the author of 'Werther,'
+of that immortal work which has drunk the tears of the whole world,
+and has become the Holy Testament for unhappy souls!"
+
+"Rather say for lovers," replied Goethe, "and add also those
+troubled spirits who think themselves poetical when they whine and
+howl; who cry over misfortune if Fate denies them the toy which
+their vanity, their ambition, or their amorousness, had chosen. Do
+not burden me with what I am not guilty of; do not say that wine is
+a poison, because it is not good for the sick. It is intended for
+well people; it animates and inspires them to fresh vigor. Now
+please to consider yourself well, and not ill."
+
+"I am ill, indeed I am ill," sighed Moritz. "Oh! continue to regard
+me with those eyes, which shine like stars into my benighted soul. I
+feel like one who has long wandered through the desert, his feet
+burnt with the sand, his hair scorched with the sun, and, exhausted
+with hunger and thirst, feels death approaching. Suddenly he
+discovers a green oasis, and a being with outstretched arms calling
+to him with a soft, angel-like voice: 'Come, save thyself in my
+arms; feel that thou art not alone in the desert, for I am with
+thee, and will sustain thee!'"
+
+"And I say it to you from the bottom of my heart," said Goethe,
+affectionately. "Yes, here is one, who is only too happy to aid you,
+who can sympathize with every sorrow, because he has himself felt it
+in his own breast, who may even say of himself, like Ovid: 'Nothing
+human is strange to me.' If I can aid you, say so, and I will
+willingly do it."
+
+"No, you cannot," murmured Moritz.
+
+"At least confide your grief to me; that is an alleviation."
+
+"Oh, how kind and generous you are!" Moritz said, pressing the hand
+of his new-made friend to his bosom. "How much good it does me to
+listen to you, and look at your beautiful face! I believed myself
+steeled against every thing that could happen to mortals; that the
+fool which I would be had killed within me the higher man. I was
+almost proud to have succeeded in deceiving men; that they mistook
+my grotesque mask for my real face; that they point the finger at
+me, and laugh, saying to each other: 'That is a fool, an original,
+whom Nature herself has chosen as a kind of court fool to society.'
+No one has understood the cry of distress of my soul. Those who
+laughed at the comical fellow by day, little dreamed of the anguish
+and misery in which he sighed away the night."
+
+"You not only wrong yourself, but you wrong mankind," said Goethe,
+kindly. "In the world, and in literature, you bear an honored name;
+every one of education is familiar with your excellent work on
+'Prosody of the German Language'--has read also your spirited
+Journey to England. You have no right to ask that one should
+separate the kernel from the shell in hastily passing by. If you
+surround yourself with a wall bedaubed with caricatures, you cannot
+expect that people will look behind what seems an entrance to a
+puppet-show, to find holy temples, blooming gardens, or a church-
+yard filled with graves."
+
+"That is just what I resemble," said Moritz, with a melancholy air.
+"From the depths of my soul it seems so. Nothing but buried hopes,
+murdered ideals, and wishes trodden under foot. From childhood I
+have exerted myself against circumstances; I have striven my whole
+life--a pledge of my being against unpropitious Fate. Although the
+son of a poor tradesman, Nature had given me a thirst for knowledge,
+a love for science and art. On account of it I passed for a stupid
+idler in the family, who would not contribute to his own support.
+Occupation with books was accounted idleness and laziness by my
+father. I was driven to work with blows and ill-treatment; and, that
+I might the sooner equal my father as a good shoemaker, I was bound
+to the stool near his own. During the long, fearful days I was
+forced to sit and draw the pitched, offensive thread through the
+leather, and when my arms were lame, and sank weary at my side, then
+I was invigorated to renewed exertion with blows. Finally, with the
+courage of despair, I fled from this life of torture. Unacquainted
+with the world, and inexperienced, I hoped for the sympathy of men,
+but in vain. No one would relieve or assist me! Days and weeks long
+I have wandered around in the forest adjoining our little village,
+and lived like the animals, upon roots and herbs. Yet I was happy! I
+had taken with me in my flight two books which I had received as
+prizes, in the happy days that my father permitted me to go to the
+Latin school. The decision of the teacher that I was created for a
+scholar, so terrified my father, that he took me from the school, to
+turn the embryo savant, who would be good for nothing, into a
+shoemaker, who might earn his bread. My two darling books remained
+to me. In the forest solitude I read Ovid and Virgil until I had
+memorized them, and recited them aloud, in pathetic tones, for my
+own amusement. To-day I recall those weeks in the forest stillness
+as the happiest, purest, and most beautiful of my life."
+
+"And they undoubtedly are," said Goethe, kindly. "The return to
+Nature is the return to one's self. Who will be an able, vigorous
+man and remain so, must, above all things, live in and with Nature."
+
+"But oh! this happy life did not long continue," sighed Moritz. "My
+father discovered my retreat, and came with sheriffs and bailiffs to
+seize me like a criminal--like a wild animal. With my hands bound, I
+was brought back in broad day, amid the jeers of street boys. Permit
+me to pass in silence the degradation, the torture which followed. I
+became a burden to myself, and longed for death. The ill-treatment
+of my father finally revived my courage to run away the second time.
+I went to a large town near by, and decided to earn my living rather
+than return to my father. To fulfil the prophecy of my teacher was
+my ambition. The privations that I endured, the life I led, I will
+not recount to you. I performed the most menial service, and worked
+months like a beast of burden. For want of a shelter, I slept in
+deserted yards and tumble-down houses. Upon a piece of bread and a
+drink of water I lived, saving, with miserly greediness, the money
+which I earned as messenger or day-laborer. At the end of a year, I
+had earned sufficient to buy an old suit of clothes at a second-hand
+clothing-store, and present myself to the director of the Gymnasium,
+imploring him to receive me as pupil. Bitterly weeping, I opened my
+heart to him, and disclosed the torture of my sad life as a child,
+and begged him to give me the opportunity to educate myself. He
+repulsed me with scorn, and threatened to give me over to the
+police, as a runaway, as a vagabond, and beggar. 'I am no beggar!' I
+cried, vehemently, 'I will be under obligation to no one. I have
+money to pay for two years in advance, and during this time I shall
+be able to earn sufficient to pay for the succeeding two years.'
+This softened the anger of the crabbed director; he was friendly and
+kind, and promised me his assistance."
+
+"Poor boy!" sighed Goethe. "So young, and yet forced to learn that
+there is a power to which not only kings and princes, but mind must
+bow; to which science and art have submitted, as to their Maecenas!
+This power opened the doors of the Gymnasium to you."
+
+"It was even thus. The director took pity upon me, and permitted me
+to enter upon my studies at once; he did more, he assured my future.
+Oh, he was a humane and kind man! When he learned that I possessed
+nothing but the little sum to which the drops of blood of a year's
+toil still clung, then--"
+
+"He returned it to you," interrupted Goethe, kindly.
+
+"No, he offered me board, lodging, and clothing, during my course at
+the Gymnasium."
+
+"That was well," cried Goethe. "Tell me the name of this honorable
+man, that I may meet him and extend to him my hand."
+
+A troubled smile spread over Philip's face. "Permit me for the time
+being to conceal the name," he replied. "I received the generous
+proposal gratefully, and asked, deeply moved, if there were no
+services which I could return for so much kindness and generosity.
+It proved that there were, and the director made them known to me.
+He was unmarried, hence the necessity of men's service. I should be
+society for him--be a companion, in fact; I should do what every
+grateful son would do for his father--help him dress, keep his room
+in order, and prepare his breakfast."
+
+"That meant that you should be his servant!" cried Goethe,
+indignant.
+
+"Only in the morning," replied Moritz, smiling. "Evenings and nights
+I should have the honor to be his amanuensis; I should look over the
+studies of the scholars, and correct their exercises; and when I had
+made sufficient progress, it should be my duty to give two hours to
+different classes, and I should read aloud or play cards with the
+director on leisure evenings. Besides, I was obliged to promise
+never to leave the house without his permission; never to speak to,
+or hold intercourse with, any one outside the hours of instruction.
+All these conditions were written down, and signed by both parties,
+as if a business contract."
+
+"A transaction by which a human soul was bargained for!" thundered
+Goethe. "Reveal to me, now, the name of this trader of souls, that I
+may expose him to public shame!"
+
+"He died a year since," replied Moritz, softened. "God summoned him
+to judgment. When the physician announced to him that the cancer was
+incurable, when he felt death approaching, he sent for me, and
+begged my forgiveness, with tears and deep contrition. I forgave
+him, so let me cease to recall the life I passed with him. By the
+sweat of my brow I was compelled to serve him; for seven long years
+I was his slave. I sold myself for the sake of knowledge, I was
+consoled by progress. I was the servant, companion, jester, and
+slave of my tyrant, but I was also the disciple, the priest of
+learning. In my own room my chains fell off. In the lonely night-
+watches I communed with the great, the immortal spirits of Horace,
+Virgil, and even the proud Ceasar, and the divine Homer. Those
+solitary but happy hours of the night are never to be forgotten,
+never to be portrayed; they refreshed me for the trials of the day,
+and enabled me to endure them! At the close of seven years I was
+prepared to enter the university, and the bargain between my master
+and myself was also at an end. Freed from my tyrant, I bent my steps
+toward Frankfort University, to feel my liberty enchained anew. For
+seven years I had been the slave of the director; now I became the
+slave of poverty, forced to labor to live! Oh, I cannot recall those
+scenes! Suffice it to say, that during one year I had no fixed
+abode, never tasted warm food. But it is passed--I have conquered!
+After years of struggle, of exertion, of silent misery, only
+relieved by my stolen hours of blissful study, I gained my reward. I
+was free! My examination passed, I was honored with the degrees of
+Doctor of Philosophy and Master of Arts. After many intervening
+events, I was appointed conrector of the college attached to the
+Gray Monastery, which position now supports me."
+
+"God be praised, I breathe freely!" answered Goethe, with one of
+those sunny smiles which, in a moment of joyful excitement, lighted
+up his face. "I feel like one shipwrecked, who has, at last, reached
+a safe harbor. I rejoice in your rescue as if it were my own. Now
+you are safe. You have reached the port, and in the quiet happiness
+of your own library you will win new laurels. Why, then, still
+dispirited and unhappy? The past, with its sorrows and humiliations,
+is forgotten, the present is satisfactory, and the future is full of
+hope for you."
+
+"Full of misery is the present," cried Philip, angrily, "and filled
+with despair I glance at the future. You do not see it with your
+divine eyes, you do not perceive it, poet with the sympathetic soul.
+You, too, thought that Philip Moritz had only a head for the
+sciences, and forgot that he had a heart to love. I tell you that he
+has a warm, affectionate heart, torn with grief and all the tortures
+of jealousy; that disappointed happiness maddens him. I was not
+created to be happy, and my whole being longs for happiness. Oh! I
+would willingly give my life for one day by the side of the one I
+love."
+
+"Do not trifle," said Goethe, angrily. "He who has striven and
+struggled as you have, dare not offer, for any woman, however
+beautiful and seductive, to yield his life, which has been destined
+to a higher aim than mere success in love. Perhaps you think that
+God has infused a ray of His intelligence into the mind of man,
+created him immortal, and breathed upon him with His world-creating
+breath only, to make him happy, and find that happiness in love! No!
+my friend, God has given to man like faculties with Himself, and
+inspired him, that he might be a worthy representative of Him upon
+the earth ; that he should prove, in his life, that he is not only
+the blossom, but the fruit also, of God's creation. Love is to man
+the perfume of his existence. She may intoxicate him for a while,
+may inspire him to poetical effusions, to great deeds, even; but he
+should hesitate to let her become his mistress, to let her be the
+tyrant of his existence. If she would enchain him, he must tear
+himself away, even if he tear out his own heart. Man possesses that
+which is more ennobling than mere feeling; he has intellect--soul."
+
+"Ah!" cried Moritz, "it is easy to see that you have never loved
+madly, despairingly. You have never seen the woman whom you adore,
+and who perhaps reciprocates your passion, forced to marry another."
+
+A shadow flitted over Goethe's brow, and the flashing brilliancy of
+his eyes was changed to gloomy sadness. Gently, but quickly, he laid
+his hand upon Moritz's shoulder, saying: "In this hour, when two
+souls are revealed to each other, will I acknowledge to you that
+which I have never spoken of. I, too, love a woman, who loves me,
+and yet can never be mine, for she is married to another. I love
+this sweet woman as I have never loved a mortal being. For years my
+existence has belonged to her, she has been the centre of all my
+thoughts. It would seem to me as if the earth were without a sun,
+heaven without a God, if she should vanish from life. I even bless
+the torture which her prudery, her alternate coldness and
+friendliness cause me, as it comes from her, from the highest bliss
+of feeling. This passion has swept through my soul, as if uniting in
+itself all my youthful loves, till, like a torrent, ever renewing
+itself, ever moving onward, it has become the highway of my future.
+Upon this stream floats the bark laden with all my happiness, fame,
+and poetry. The palaces which my fancy creates rise upon its shore.
+Every zephyr, however slight, makes me tremble. Every cloud which
+overshadows the brow of my beloved, sweeps like a tempest over my
+own. I live upon her smile. A kind word falling from her lips makes
+me happy for days; and when she turns away from me with coldness and
+indifference, I feel like one driven about as Orestes by the
+Furies."
+
+"You really are in love!" cried Moritz. "I will take back what I
+have said. You, the chosen of the gods, know all the human heart can
+suffer, even unhappy love."
+
+Almost angry, and with hesitation, Goethe answered him: "I do not
+call this passion of mine an unhappy one, for in the very perception
+of it lies happiness. We are only wretched when we lose self-
+control. To this point Love shall never lead me. She yields me the
+highest delight, but she shall never bring me to self-destruction.
+Grief for her may, like a destructive whirlwind, crush every blossom
+of my heart; but she shall never destroy me. The man, the poet, must
+stand higher than the lover; for where the latter is about to yield
+to despair, the former will rise, and, with the defiance of
+Prometheus, challenge the gods to recognize the godlike similitude,
+that man can rise superior to sorrow, never despairing, never
+cursing Fate if all the rosy dreams of youth are not realities, but
+with upturned gaze stride over the waste places of life, consoling
+himself with the thought that only magnanimous souls can suffer and
+conquer magnanimously. Vanquished grief brings us nearer to the
+immortal, and gradually bears us from this vale of sorrow up to the
+brighter heights, nearer to God--the earth with her petty confusion
+lying like a worthless tool at our feet!"
+
+"It is heavenly to be able to say that, and divine to perceive it,"
+cried Moritz, bursting into tears. "The miseries of life chain me to
+the dust, and do not permit me to mount to the heights which a hero
+like Goethe reaches victorious. It is indeed sublime to conquer
+one's self, and be willing to resign the happiness which flees us.
+But see how weak I am--I cannot do it! I can never give up the one I
+love. It seems as if I could move heaven and earth to conquer at
+last, and that I must die if I do not succeed--die like Werther."
+
+Goethe's eyes flashed with anger, and with heightened color he
+exclaimed: "You all repeat the same litany--do not make me
+answerable for all your weaknesses, and blame poor Werther for the
+creations of your own imagination. I, who am the author of Werther,
+am free from this abominable sentimentality. Why cannot others be,
+who only read what I have conceived? But pardon my violence," he
+continued, with a milder voice and gentler manner. "Never did an
+author create a work which brought him at the same time so great
+fame and bitter reproach as this work has brought to me. 'The
+Sorrows of Young Werther' have indeed been transformed into the
+sorrows of young Goethe, and I even fear that old Goethe will have
+to suffer for it. I have spoken to you as a friend to a friend:
+cherish my words, take them to heart, and arise from the dust; shake
+off the self-strewn ashes from your head. Enter again as a brave
+champion the combat of life--summon to your aid cunning, power,
+prudence, and audacity, to conquer your love. Whether you succeed or
+not, then you aim at the greatest of battles--that of mind over
+matter--then remember my farewell words. From the power which binds
+all men he frees himself who conquers himself.--Farewell! If ever
+you need the encouragement of a friend, if ever a sympathizing soul
+is necessary to you, come to Weimar; sympathy and appreciation shall
+never fail you there."
+
+"Oh! I will surely go," answered Moritz, deeply moved, and pressing
+heartily Goethe's offered hand.
+
+"One thing more I have to say to you: Live much with Nature;
+accustom yourself to regard the sparrow, the flower, or the stone,
+as worthy of your attention as the wonderful phoenix or the
+monuments of the ancients with their illegible inscriptions. To walk
+with Nature is balsam for a weary soul; gently touched by her soft
+hands, the recovery is most rapid. I have experienced it, and do
+experience it daily. Now, once more, farewell; in the true sense of
+the word fare-thee-well! I wish that I could help you in other ways
+than by mere kind words. It pains me indeed that I can render you no
+other aid or hope. You alone can do what none other can do for you.-
+-Farewell!"
+
+He turned, and motioning to Moritz not to follow him, almost flew
+down the stairs into the street. Drawing a long breath, he stood
+leaning against the door, gazing at the crowd--at the busy passers-
+by--some merrily chatting with their companions, others with earnest
+mien and in busy haste. No one seemed to care for him, no one looked
+at him. If by chance they glanced at him, Johann Wolfgang Goethe was
+of no more consequence to them than any other honest citizen in a
+neighboring doorway.
+
+Without perhaps acknowledging it to himself, Goethe was a little
+vexed that no one observed him; that the weather-maker from Weimar,
+who was accustomed to be greeted there, and everywhere, indeed, with
+smiles and bows, should here in Berlin be only an ordinary mortal--a
+stranger among strangers. "I would not live here," said he, as he
+walked slowly down the street. "What are men in great cities but
+grains of sand, now blown together and then asunder? There is no
+individuality, one is only a unit in the mass! But it is well
+occasionally to look into such a kaleidoscope, and admire the play
+of colors, which I have done, and with a glad heart I will now fly
+home to all my friends--to you, beloved one--to you, Charlotte!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE INNER AND THE MIDDLE TEMPLE.
+
+
+Wilhelmine Enke had passed the day in great anxiety and excitement,
+and not even the distraction of her new possession had been able to
+calm the beating of her heart or allay her fears. Prince Frederick
+William had arrived early in the morning, to bid her farewell, as he
+was to march in the course of the day with his regiments from
+Potsdam. With the tenderest assurances of love he took leave of
+Wilhelmine, and with tears kissed his two children, pressing them to
+his heart. As he was about to enter his carriage he returned to the
+house to embrace his weeping mistress, and reassure her of his
+fidelity, and make her promise him again and again that she would
+remain true to him, and never love another.
+
+It was not alone the farewell to her beloved prince which caused
+Wilhelmine such anxiety and made her so restless. Like a dark cloud
+the remembrance of Cagliostro's mysterious appearance arose in her
+mind, overshadowing her every hour more and more, filling her soul
+with terror. In vain did she seek refuge near her children, trying
+to cheer and forget herself in their innocent amusement--one moment
+running about the garden with them, then returning to the house to
+reexamine it. Her thoughts would revert to Cagliostro, and the
+solemnities which were to take place at her house that night. The
+thought terrified her that at nightfall she was obliged to send away
+all her servants, and not even be permitted to lock herself in the
+lonely, deserted house. For the great magician had commanded her to
+let the doors of her house stand open; he would place sentinels at
+every entrance, and none but the elect would be allowed to enter.
+Wilhelmine had not the courage to resist this command. As evening
+approached, she sent the cook, with other servants, to her apartment
+at Berlin, ordering them to pack her furniture and other effects,
+and send them by a hired wagon to Charlottenburg the following
+morning. An hour previous to this she had sent the nurse and two
+children to Potsdam with a similar commission, ordering them to
+return early the next day. Alone she now awaited with feverish
+anxiety Cagliostro's appearance. Again and again she wandered
+through the silent, deserted rooms frightened at the sound of her
+own footsteps, and peering into each room as if an assassin or
+robber were lurking there. She had many enemies--many there were who
+cursed her, and, alas! none loved her--she was friendless, save the
+prince, who was far away. The tears which the princess had shed on
+her account weighed like a heavy burden upon her heart, burning into
+her very soul in this hour of lonely, sad retrospection. She tried
+in vain to excuse herself, in the fact that she had loved the prince
+before his marriage; that she had sacrificed herself to him through
+affection, and that she was not entitled to become his wife, as she
+was not born under the canopy of a throne.
+
+From the depths of her conscience there again rose the tearful, sad
+face of the princess, accusing her as an adulteress--as a sinner
+before God and man! Terrified, she cried: "I have truly loved him,
+and I do still love him; this is my excuse and my justification. She
+is not to be pitied who can walk openly by the side of her husband,
+enjoying the respect and sympathy of all to whom homage is paid, and
+who, one day, will be queen! I am the only one, I alone! I stand in
+the shade, despised and scorned, avoided and shunned by every one.
+Those who recognize me, do so with a mocking smile, and when I pass
+by they contemptuously shrug their shoulders and say to one another,
+'That was Enke, the mistress of the Prince of Prussia!' All this
+shall be changed," she cried aloud; "I will not always be despised
+and degraded! I will be revenged on my crushed and scorned youth! I
+will have rank and name, honor and position, that I will--yes, that
+I will, indeed!"
+
+Wilhelmine wandered on through the silent rooms, all brilliantly
+illuminated, a precaution she had taken before dismissing her
+servants. The bright light was a consolation to her, and, at least,
+she could not be attacked by surprise, but see her enemy, and
+escape. "I was a fool," she murmured, "to grant Cagliostro this
+reception to-night. I know that he is a charlatan! There are no
+prophets or wizards! Yet, well I remember, though a stranger to me,
+in Paris, how truthfully he brought before me my past life; with
+what marvellous exactness he revealed to me secrets known only to my
+Maker and myself. Cagliostro must be a wizard, then, or a prophet;
+he has wonderful power over me also, and reads my most secret
+thoughts. He will assist me to rise from my shame and degradation to
+an honored position. I shall become a rich and influential woman! I
+will confide in him, never doubting him--for he is my master and
+savior! Away with fear! He has said that the house should be
+guarded, and it will be! Onward then, Wilhelmine, without fear!"
+
+She hastened to the large drawing-room, in order to see the effect
+of the numerous wax-lights in the superb chandeliers of rock
+crystal. The great folding-doors resisted all her efforts to open
+them. "Who is there?" cried a loud, threatening voice. Trembling and
+with beating heart Wilhelmine leaned against the door, giddy with
+fear, when a second demand, "Who is there? The watchword! No one can
+pass without the countersign!" roused her, and she stole back on
+tiptoe to her room. "He has kept his word, the doors are guarded!"
+she whispered. "I will go and await him in my sitting-room." She
+stepped quickly forward, when suddenly she thought she heard
+footsteps stealing behind her; turning, she beheld two men wrapped
+in black cloaks, with black masks, stealthily creeping after her.
+Wilhelmine shrieked with terror, tore open the door, rushed across
+the next room into her own boudoir. As she entered a glance revealed
+to her that the two masks approached nearer and nearer. She bolted
+the door quickly, sinking to the floor with fright and exhaustion.
+"What are they going to do? Will they force open the door and murder
+me? How foolish, how fearfully foolish to have sent away all my
+servants. Now I understand it: Cagliostro is not only an impostor--a
+charlatan, but he is a thief and an assassin. I have been caught in
+the trap set for me, like a credulous fool! He and his associates
+will rob me and plunder my beautiful villa, but just given to me,
+and, when they have secured all, murder me to escape betrayal." With
+deep contrition, weeping and trembling, Wilhelmine accused herself
+of her credulity and folly. For the first time in her life she was
+dismayed and cowardly, for it was the first time that she had had to
+tremble for her possessions. It was something so new, so
+unaccustomed to her to possess any thing, that it made her anxious,
+and she feared, as in the fairy tale, that it would dissolve into
+nothing. By degrees her presence of mind and equanimity were
+restored. The stillness was unbroken--and no one forced the door, to
+murder the mistress of this costly possession. Gathering courage,
+she rose softly and stole to the window. The moon shone brightly and
+clearly. The house stood sideways to the street, and separated from
+it, first by thick shrubbery, and then a trellised lawn. Whoever
+would enter, directly turned into a path leading from the street
+into the shrubbery. Just upon this walk, Wilhelmine perceived masked
+men approaching, one by one, as in a procession--slowly, silently
+moving on, until they neared the gate of the trellised square, where
+two tall, dark forms were stationed to demand the countersign, which
+being given, they passed over the lawn into the house.
+
+"I will take courage; he has told me the truth, the house is well
+guarded," murmured Wilhelmine. "None but the summoned can enter; I
+belong to the number, and when it is time Cagliostro will come and
+fetch me. Until then, let me await quietly the result," said she, as
+she stretched herself comfortably upon the sofa, laughing at her
+former cowardice and terror. "No one can enter this room unless I
+open the door, and fortunately there is but one exit. The wizard
+himself could not gain admittance unless the walls should open or
+the bolt drive hack for him. Hark! it strikes eleven, one tedious
+hour longer to wait. I must try to rest a little." She laid her head
+upon the cushion, closing her eyes. The calm and the quiet were
+refreshing after the excitement of the day. Gradually her thoughts
+became confused--dim pictures floated past her mental vision, her
+breathing became shorter, and she slept. The stillness was unbroken,
+save the clock striking the quarters of every hour. Scarcely had the
+last quarter to midnight sounded, when the window was softly opened,
+and a dark form descended into the room. He listened a moment,
+looking at the sleeping one, who moved not; then extinguished the
+light, creeping toward the door. Wilhelmine slept on. Suddenly it
+seemed to her as if sunbeams blinded her, and she started up from a
+profound sleep. It was indeed no dream. A white form stood before
+her of dazzling brilliancy, as if formed of sun-rays.
+
+"Rise and follow me!" cried a commanding voice. "The Great Kophta
+commands you. Mask yourself, and, as your life is dear to you, do
+not raise it for one instant!" Wilhelmine took the mask, upon which
+flickered a little blue flame, and held it close to her face. "Pray
+in spirit, then follow me." Wilhelmine followed without opposition
+the bright form which moved before her through the dark rooms. She
+felt as if under the influence of a charm; her heart beat violently,
+her feet trembled, but still she felt no more wavering or fear; a
+joyous confidence filled her whole being. With her eyes bent upon
+the moving form of light, she went onward in the obscurity, and
+entered the great drawing-room, where profound darkness and silence
+reigned. A slight murmur, as of those in prayer, fell on her car,
+and it seemed as if numberless black shadows were moving about.
+"Kneel and pray," whispered a voice near her. Her conductor had
+disappeared, and the gloom of night surrounded her. Wilhelmine knelt
+as she was bidden, but she could not pray; breathless expectation
+and eager curiosity banished all devotion and composure.
+Occasionally was heard, amid the silence and darkness, a deep sigh,
+a suppressed groan, or a shriek, which died away in the murmuring of
+prayer. Suddenly a strange music broke the stillness--sharp,
+piercing tones, resonant as bells, and increasing in power,
+sometimes as rich and full as the peals of an organ, then gentle and
+soft as the murmuring wind, or a sorrow-laden sigh. Then, human
+voices joined the music, swelling it to a wonderful and harmonious
+choir--to an inspired song of aspiration, Of fervent expectation,
+and imploring the coming of him who would bring glory and peace,
+filling the hearts of believers with godliness. The chorus of the
+Invisibles had not ceased, when a strange blue light began to
+glimmer at the farther end of the room; then it shot like a flash
+through the dark space. As their dazzled eyes were again raised,
+they saw in a kind of halo, in the midst of golden clouds, a tall,
+dazzling figure, in a long, flowing robe, sparkling with silver. The
+lovely bust, the beautiful arms and shoulders, were covered with a
+transparent golden tissue, over which fell the long, curly hair to
+the waist. A glittering band, sparkling like stars, was wound
+through the hair, which surrounded a feminine face of surpassing
+beauty. Perpetual youth glowed upon her full, rosy cheeks; bright
+intelligence beamed from the clear, lofty brow; peace, joy, and
+happiness, were revealed in the smile of the red lips; love and
+passion flashed from the large, brilliant eyes. The choir of the
+Invisibles now sang in jubilant tones: "The eternal Virgin, the
+everlasting, holy, and pure being, greets the erring, blesses those
+that seek, causing them to find, and partake with joy."
+
+The heavenly woman raised her lovely arms, extending them as if for
+a tender embrace. A captivating smile lighted up her features; a
+fiery glance from her beautiful eyes seemed to greet every one,
+separately, to announce to them joy and hope. While they regarded
+her entranced with delight, the golden cloud grew denser, and
+covered the virgin with her luminous veil. It then gradually
+disappeared, with the golden splendor. The chorus of the Invisibles
+ceased, and the music died away in gentle murmurs. Upon the spot
+where the beaming apparition was visible, there now stood a tall
+priest, in a long, flowing black robe; a pale-blue light surrounded
+him, and rendered the dark outline distinctly visible by the clear
+background. Snow-white hair and a black mask made him unrecognizable
+to every one.
+
+Extending his arms, as if blessing them, the masked one cried: "My
+beloved, the unknown fathers of our Holy Order of Rosicrucians send
+me to you, and command me to salute you with the greeting of life. I
+am to announce to you that the time of revelation approaches, and
+that the sublime mysteries of earth and Nature will soon be revealed
+to you. As the rose is unfolded in her glowing red, which has so
+long slept in her lap of green leaves, you represent the green
+leaves, and Nature is the rose. She will disclose herself to you
+with all her secrets. In her calyx you will find the elixir of life
+and the secret of gold, if you walk in the path of duty; if you
+exercise unconditional obedience to the Invisible Fathers; if you
+submit yourselves in blind confidence to their wisdom; if you swear
+to abstain from every self-inquiry, and to distrust your own
+understanding." [Footnote: So run the very words in the laws of the
+Rosicrucians.--See "New General German Library," vol. lvi., p. 10.]
+
+"We swear it!" cried solemn voices on all sides.
+
+"Swear, blindly, silent obedience to all that the Invisible Fathers
+shall announce to you through their directors, or shall order you
+under the holy sign of the Rosicrucians by word or writing."
+
+"We swear it!" again resounded in solemn chorus.
+
+"Shame, disgrace, perdition, and destruction, be your curse,"
+thundered the priest, "if you deviate in thought even from your
+oath; if you seek to ponder and reflect; if you measure by your own
+limited reason the dispositions and operations of the sublime
+fathers, to whom Nature has revealed herself, and to whom all the
+secrets of heaven and earth are disclosed. Eternal destruction, and
+all the tortures of hell and purgatory, be the portion of the
+doubting! Damned and proscribed be the traitor to the holy order!
+Listen, ye spirits of the deep, and ye spirits of darkness, withdraw
+from here in terror, ere the anger of the Invisible Fathers fall
+upon you like destroying lightning! Open, ye doors, that the wicked
+may flee, and only the good remain!"
+
+With a wave of the hand the great folding-doors now opened, and a
+flood of light from the adjoining apartment revealed the drawingroom
+to be filled with the dark forms of men enveloped in black cloaks,
+hoods drawn over the heads, and black masks covering the faces--all
+kneeling close together and exactly resembling one another. No one
+moved, the doors closed again, darkness reigning. The priest was no
+longer visible, though continuing to speak: "Only the good and
+obedient are now assembled here, and to them I announce that life is
+to us, and death awaits beyond the door to seize the traitor who
+would disclose the holy secrets of the order. Be faithful, my
+brothers, and never forget that there is no place on the earth where
+the traitor is secure from the avenging sword of the Invisible
+Fathers. None but the good and obedient being here assembled, I now
+announce to you that the time of revelation approaches, and that it
+will come when you are all zealously endeavoring to extend the holy
+order, and augment the number of brothers. For the extension of the
+order is nothing less than universal happiness. It emanates alone
+from the Invisible Fathers, who link heaven to earth and who will
+open again the lost way to Paradise. The supreme chiefs of our holy
+order are the rulers of all Nature, reposing in God the Father.
+[Footnote: The wording of the laws of the Order of the
+Rosicrucians.--See "New General German Library," vol. M., p. 10. ]
+They are the favorites of God, whom the Trinity thinks worthy of his
+highest confidence and revelation. If you will take part in the
+revelations of God, and witness the disclosing of the hidden
+treasures of Nature, swear that you will be obedient to the holy
+order, and that you will strive to gain new members.
+
+"We swear it," resounded in an inspired chorus through the room. "We
+swear unconditional obedience to the Invisible Fathers. We swear to
+strive with all our means for the extension of the holy order.
+
+"Unbelief, free-thinking, and self-knowledge are of the devil, who
+steals abroad, to turn men from God. The pride of reason seeks to
+misguide men, and lead them away from God and the secrets of Nature.
+The devil has chosen his disciples, who teach sinful knowledge and
+arrogant free-thinking, and who are united in Berlin in the Order of
+the Illuminati. The Invisible Fathers command you to fight this
+shameful order in word, deed, and writing. If any of you are
+acquainted with one of the members, you shall regard him as your
+most deadly enemy, and shall hate and pursue him as you hate sin and
+as you pursue crime. You shall flee his intercourse as you would
+that of the devil, otherwise you will be damned, and the Invisible
+Fathers never will forgive you, and the secrets of Nature will be
+withheld from you. Swear therefore hate, persecution, and eternal
+enmity, to the Order of the Illuminati. This I command you in the
+name of the Invisible Fathers."
+
+"We swear it! We swear hate, persecution, and eternal enmity, to the
+Order of the Illuminati!"
+
+"Every one who belongs to the order is damned and cursed; and if it
+were your brother or your father, so shall you curse and damn him!"
+
+"We swear it!"
+
+"Then I bring you the blessing of the Invisible rulers and fathers,
+who announce to you, through me, that every lost one which you gain
+for the Order of the Rosicrucians, and consequently lead back to God
+and Nature, is a step toward entering the holy sanctuary of
+revelation, where the elixir of life and the tincture of gold awaits
+you. Every cursed member of the Illuminati becomes one of the
+blessed when you lead him from the path of vice in penitence and
+contrition, and gain him to the Order of the Rosicrucians; and he
+who can prove that he has gained twelve new members for our holy
+order mounts a round higher in the ladder of knowledge, and rises to
+a new degree. At the sixth grade he passes from the Inner to the
+Middle Temple, where all the secrets of the universe and of Nature
+are disclosed. Be mindful of this, and recruit. Until we meet again,
+let the watchword be, 'Curses and persecution for the devil's
+offspring, the Illuminati!'"
+
+"Curses and persecution for the devil's offspring, the Illuminati,
+we swear!"
+
+"Now depart! Pay your tribute at the door, which you owe, and
+receive in return the new sign of the order, which will serve to
+make the brothers known to each other. Only the directors and the
+members of the sixth grade shall knock again at this door after
+paying tribute, and, receiving the new word of life, the guard will
+let them enter. Depart! I dismiss you in the name of the Holy Father
+and the Trinity!"
+
+"Take this cloak, and cover yourself, that no one can recognize
+you," whispered a person near Wilhelmine, and threw a soft covering
+over her. "Will you now depart, or seek further in the way of
+knowledge?"
+
+"I will seek further," answered Wilhelmine, firmly.
+
+"You wish to enter the sixth grade, and learn the secrets of
+Nature?"
+
+"I do!"
+
+"Then I will give you the watchword of the order. But woe unto you
+if you reveal it! Swear that you will never betray it!"
+
+"I swear it!"
+
+"Then, listen!"
+
+Wilhelmine felt a hot breath upon her cheek, and a voice whispered
+in her ear the significant words: "Now depart; pay your tribute, you
+cannot tarry here. Go, and return with the chosen!"
+
+A hand seized her arm and conducted her to the door. Almost blinded
+by the bright light, she entered the adjoining apartment, where it
+seemed as if she saw through a veil muffled figures go forward to
+the centre, and deposit money in a marble basin which stood upon a
+kind of altar; naphtha burned in silver basins upon each end of it,
+and a muffled figure stood near.
+
+Wilhelmine advanced to the altar, and with quick decision drew a
+diamond ring from her finger, and begged permission to deposit it
+instead of money.
+
+The muffled figure bowed, and handed to her the new watchword--a
+picture of a Madonna, with the sign of the Rosicrucians underneath.
+Then she returned, and awaited at the door, with a little gathering,
+which must consequently belong to the sixth grade. Gradually the
+others had withdrawn; the naphtha-flames upon the altar were
+extinguished, and the wax-lights of the centre lustres had grown
+dim, and gradually extinguished themselves. Soon the doors were
+opened, and a bright light, as of the sun's rays, filled the hall.
+Three blasts of trumpets sounded, and a choir of immortal voices
+sang, "Enter, ye blessed ones! Enter, ye elect!"
+
+They entered, whispering the sign to the guards, who stood with
+drawn swords, and passed on to the throne upon which stood a couch,
+surrounded with blooming flowers and covered with a cloud of silvery
+gauze. They soon discovered a secret something was hidden under the
+cloud, though they knew not whether it were child, woman, or man.
+They knelt upon the lower step of the throne, with folded hands and
+bowed heads, praying in a low voice. A solemn stillness reigned, the
+prayers died away on the lips, and the hearts scarcely beat for
+anxiety and expectation. Suddenly a voice, which seemed to come from
+the silver cloud, so distant and lofty, and rolling like majestic
+thunder, cried, "He comes, the chosen one! The Great Kophta comes!"
+
+The folding-doors flew open, and the Great Kophta entered.
+Wilhelmine recognized in the majestic figure, enveloped in a
+flowing, silver-embroidered satin robe, with a band of brilliants
+around his brow, the handsome face of Cagliostro, beaming as if in
+an ecstasy. He saluted the brothers with a gentle voice, and bade
+them approach and touch his hand. As Wilhelmine did so, a thrill ran
+through her whole being, and she sank overpowered at his feet. He
+bowed and breathed upon her. "You are chosen, ye heavenly brothers,"
+he said, in a sweet, melodious voice; "the secrets of heaven and
+earth are disclosed to you. I receive you in the Holy Order of the
+Favorites of God, which I founded with Enoch and Elias when we dwelt
+in the promised land. From them I received the Word of Life, and
+they sent me to the ancient sages of Egypt, who revealed to me in
+the pyramids the secret sciences which subject the earth and all her
+treasures to our command. He who devotes himself to me with fidelity
+will receive eternal life and the secret of immortality."
+
+"We believe in thee, blessed one of God," murmured the kneeling
+ones; "we know that we receive life and salvation from thee. Bend to
+us, and give us of the breath of immortality!"
+
+He bowed and breathed upon them, and they broke forth in words of
+thankfulness and delight.
+
+Only Wilhelmine kept silent; she only failed to feel the magical
+influence, and he bowed again to her, fixing his great fiery eyes
+upon her. "Thou art called, thou art chosen," he said. "Mount to the
+tabernacle, and lift the veil."
+
+She did as commanded, and beheld the figure of a wonderful woman
+stretched upon the couch as in deep sleep, clothed in transparent
+robes. "Lay your hand upon her brow, and direct in your thoughts a
+question to the prophetess of the order, and she will answer you!"
+Upon the lofty, white brow of the sleeping one, she laid her hand;
+immediately a smile flitted over her beautiful face, and she nodded.
+"Yes," said she, "you must believe. You dare not doubt. He is the
+elect, the holy Magus!" Wilhelmine trembled, for the answer was
+suited to the question. "Demand a second question of the
+prophetess," commanded Cagliostro. Again she laid her hand upon the
+brow of the sleeping one, and again she smiled and nodded with her
+beautiful head. "Fear not," she replied; "he will always love you,
+and will never reject you, only you must not lead him astray from
+the right course--but guide him to the temple of faith and
+knowledge. When you cease to do it, you are lost. Shame upon earth
+and damnation will be your portion." The answer was exact--for
+Wilhelmine had prayed to know if the prince would always love and
+never reject her. "Still a third question," cried Cagliostro. In
+silence Wilhelmine asked, and the prophetess answered aloud: "You
+will be countess, you will become a princess, you will possess
+millions, you will have the whole world at your feet, if you call to
+your aid the Invisible Fathers, and implore the power and miraculous
+blessing of the Great Kophta." Wilhelmine, deeply moved, sank
+overpowered upon her knees, and cried aloud: "I call upon the
+Invisible Fathers for aid and assistance; I implore the power and
+miraculous blessing of the Great Kophta." Suddenly, amid the rolling
+of thunder and intense darkness, Wilhelmine felt herself lifted up--
+borne away, as loud prayers were uttered around her. Then she felt
+herself lowered again and with the freedom of motion. "Fly! fly from
+the revenge of the immortals, if you still doubt, still mistrust!"
+cried a fearful voice above her. "Behold how the immortals revenge
+themselves." Immediately a light began to dawn before her, a form
+rose from the darkness like her own. She beheld herself kneeling,
+imploring, her face deluged with tears, and before her a tall,
+erect, muffled figure, with a glittering sword in his uplifted arm,
+which sank gradually lower and lower until it pierced her bosom and
+the blood gushed forth. Wilhelmine shrieked and fainted. She
+witnessed no more miracles, beard no more prophecies and revelations
+which the magi made to the elect. She beheld not the appearance of
+the blessed spirits, which at the importunity of the brothers
+flitted through the apartment. She heard not Cagliostro take leave
+of Baron von Bischofswerder, when all had withdrawn, saying, "I have
+now exalted you to be chief director of the holy order. You will at
+once receive orders from the Invisible Fathers, announced to you in
+writing, and you will follow them faithfully."
+
+"I will follow them faithfully," humbly answered Bischofswerder.
+
+"You will be rewarded by the knowledge of life and of money; you
+shall discover the philosopher's stone, and the secret of gold shall
+be revealed to you, when you perform what the Invisible Fathers
+demand."
+
+"I will do every thing," cried Bischofswerder, fervently; "only make
+known to me their commands."
+
+"They desire, at the present, that you seek to be the confidant of
+the Prince of Prussia. Gain his affection, then govern him, making
+yourself indispensable to him. Surround him with servants and
+confidants that you can rely upon. Inspire him with devotion to the
+holy order. Become, now, the friend of the prince, that you may, one
+day, rule the king. You are the chief of the order in Prussia; the
+more members you gain the more secrets will be revealed to you. The
+holy fathers send me afar, but I shall return: if you have been
+active and faithful, I will make known to you a great secret and
+bring you the elixir of life."
+
+"When will you return, master?" asked Bisehofswerder,
+enthusiastically.
+
+Cagliostro smiled. "Before the crown prince of Prussia becomes king.
+Ask no further. Be faithful!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE JESUIT GENERAL
+
+
+No one remained in the drawing-room but Cagliostro and the beautiful
+woman who still lay quietly on the couch, upon the throne.
+Cagliostro approached her, and, raising the veil, regarded her a
+moment, with an expression of the most passionate tenderness: "We
+are alone, Lorenza," said he. She opened her great eyes, and looked
+around the dimly-lighted room; then, fixing them upon Cagliostro,
+who stood before her in his brilliant costume of magician, she burst
+into a merry laugh, so loud and so irresistible, that Cagliostro was
+seized involuntarily, and joined her.
+
+"Oh! was it not heavenly, was it not a glorious comedy, and did I
+not play divinely, Joseph? Was I not bewitching as the goddess of
+Nature?"
+
+"You looked truly like a goddess, Lorenza, and there is nothing more
+beautiful than you, in heaven or upon earth. But come, my
+enchantress, it is time to break up, as we are to set off early to-
+morrow morning."
+
+"Have we now much money? Was the tribute richly paid?"
+
+"Yes, we have a hundred louis d'ors and a diamond ring from the
+mistress of this house."
+
+"Give it to me," cried Lorenza.
+
+"Not the ring, Lorenza, but the diamond, so soon as I have a false
+stone set in the ring--which I must keep as a ring in the chain
+which will bind this woman to our cause."
+
+"Was I not astonishingly like her? Was it not almost unmistakable?"
+
+"Yes, wonderfully deceptive. I shuddered myself as I saw the dagger
+pointed at your bosom."
+
+"And the blood, how it gushed forth, Joseph!" Lorenza burst into a
+merry laugh again, and Cagliostro joined her, but suddenly stopped,
+and, listening, turned toward the door, which he had closed after
+Bischofswerder departed. It seemed as if he heard a noise--a
+peculiar knocking. Four times it was repeated, and Cagliostro waved
+his hand to Lorenza not to speak. Again were heard the four peculiar
+rhythmical sounds. "Be quiet, for Heaven's sake be quiet, Lorenza!
+Let me cover you with the veil; it is a messenger from the
+Invisibles." Cagliostro flew to the door, unbolted it, and stood
+humbly near the entrance. A masked figure, enveloped in a cloak,
+opened it, and entered, rebolting it.
+
+Slowly turning toward Cagliostro, he harshly demanded, "Whose
+servant are you?"
+
+"The servant of the Invisible Rulers and Fathers," he humbly
+answered.
+
+"Who are the Invisible Fathers?"
+
+"The four ambassadors of the great general of the exiles."
+
+"Call him by that name which he bore before a heretic pope in Rome,
+a weak empress, a free-thinking emperor in Germany, a lost-in-sin
+French emperor, and a heretic Spanish minister, condemned him to
+banishment and destruction."
+
+"General of the Jesuits," he answered respectfully, bowing lower.
+
+"Do you know the sign by which he may be recognized?"
+
+"Yes, by a ring with the likeness of the founder of the order, the
+holy Ignatius Loyola."
+
+"Then look, and recognize me," cried the mask, extending his hand to
+Cagliostro.
+
+"The General," he murmured, frightened, gazing at the ring upon the
+small, white hand of the other. "The holy founder of the order
+himself!" He seized his hand and pressed it to his lips, sinking
+upon his knees. The mask remained standing before the magician, as
+lowly as he might bow himself, who was still arrayed in his
+brilliant costume with the band upon his brow sparkling like
+diamonds.
+
+With a cold, reserved manner he answered, "I am he, and am come here
+to give you my commands by word of mouth."
+
+"Command me; I am thy humble servant, and but a weak tool in thy
+hands."
+
+"It is my will that you should become a powerful tool in my hands.
+Rise, for I will speak to the man who must stand erect in the storm.
+Rise!" The proud commander was now an humble, obedient servant. He
+rose slowly, standing with bowed head.
+
+"When and where did we last meet?" demanded the mask.
+
+"In 1773, at Rome."
+
+"In the year of curse and blasphemy," said the mask, in a harsh
+voice. "The year in which the infamous Pope Clement XVI. condemned
+the holy order, and hurled his famous bull, Dominus redemptor
+noster. The holy order, condemned and disbanded by his infamous
+mouth, were changed into holy martyrs, without country, without
+possessions or rights, as persecuted fugitives, wandering around the
+world, to the wicked a scorn, to the pious a lamentable example of
+virtue and constancy. Exiled and persecuted, you fled to a house of
+one of our order, and there we for the first time met. The daughter
+of this man was your beloved. Tell me why did you conceal yourself
+after flying from Palermo? I will see if the elevated one
+ungratefully forgets the days of his degradation."
+
+"They accused me in Palermo of falsifying documents by which
+rightful owners were deprived of their lawful possessions. They
+threw me into subterranean dungeons, and I was near dying, when the
+Invisible Protectors rescued me."
+
+"Was the accusation well founded? Had you committed the crime you
+were accused of?"
+
+"Yes," answered Cagliostro, in a low voice, "I was guilty."
+
+"For whom, by whose authority?"
+
+"For the pious fathers, who commanded me, and whose pretensions to
+the possessions of the Duc Costa Rica were clearly proved by those
+documents."
+
+"You then learned the power and the gratitude of our order. From
+underground prisons they freed you, and procured a way of escape to
+Rome, to find a safe asylum in the house of a believer. But just at
+that time condemnation burst upon us, and from a powerful order we
+were changed into a persecuted one. The forger Joseph Balsamo sought
+the brazier Feliciano, who gave him money, letters of
+recommendation, and instructed him how to serve the order, and
+procure an agreeable life for himself. Is it not so?"
+
+"It is so," answered Cagliostro, softly. "It was the order of the
+General which united you in marriage to your beloved Lorenza
+Feliciana, who initiated you in the secret sciences and the secrets
+of Nature, that you might employ them for the well-being of
+humanity."
+
+"It is so, master."
+
+"You implored also, as you were about to separate, to see the face
+of your benefactor, to engrave it upon your heart. Would you now be
+able to recognize it?"
+
+"I could in an instant, among thousands."
+
+The General slowly raised the mask; a pale, emaciated face was
+visible, with great black eyes in sunken sockets, thin bloodless
+lips, and a high, bony brow. "Do you recognize me?"
+
+"No!" sadly answered Cagliostro, "it is not the same face."
+
+"You see, my son, man changes, but knowledge not. I am another, and
+yet the same, for the outward human form is only the vessel of the
+eternal band into which everlasting truth and the holy doctrines are
+poured. If the vessel breaks, it is replaced by another, and an
+inexhaustible spring. Thought and holy knowledge flow into the
+renewed vessel. I am a new vessel, but the same spirit which
+formerly spoke to you. I know your past life, and for what purpose
+you are in the world. As the General then spoke to you, so speak I
+now. The unholy have put the holy under a ban--they have persecuted
+and condemned us. The Holy Order of the Fathers of Jesus is lifeless
+before the world, but not before God. Jesuits do not die, for they
+bear eternal life in them, and there will a day come when they will
+burst forth from darkness into light. Go, my son, and help prepare
+the day, help smooth the way, that we may walk therein. Have you
+obeyed?"
+
+"I have consecrated my whole life to it, your eminence. I have
+wandered around the world, and everywhere striven to disseminate the
+doctrine of the Invisible Fathers, and win disciples and adherents
+to the order. The Brothers of the Egyptian Masons, the Brothers of
+the Rosicrucians, are the disciples which I have won, and you know
+well there are many mighty and illustrious men among them."
+
+"I know it, and I am satisfied you are an active and useful tool.
+This I came to tell you, that I might stimulate and advise you.
+Great deeds you shall perform, great achievements the holy Ignatius
+Loyola announces by my mouth. The world lies in sin, and the devil
+strides victorious over it, since the holy order has been proscribed
+and persecuted by the wicked. The devil is arrogant progress and
+boasting reason. They who listen to him think themselves wise when
+they are fools, and speak of their enlightenment while they still
+wander in the dark. To combat this reason, to oppose this
+intelligence, is the task of our order, which will never die. For
+God Sent it forth to the world to fight the devil of progress, who
+is the ruler of darkness. I have observed you, I have followed you,
+and I am satisfied. But I await still greater things from you."
+
+"What shall it be? Speak, O master; command, and I obey!"
+
+"You shall strive throughout Europe for the restitution of the holy
+order. You shall subject to it all minds; make the rich, the
+powerful, the eminent and great, serviceable to it. Into the Orders
+of the Rosicrucians and Egyptian Masons you shall gather all the
+stray and isolated sheep into a flock, to await with longing the
+coming of the shepherd, and prepare a place for him. To the holy
+Church you shall consecrate the band of brothers, the only blessed
+Church, which is the lofty abode of the father of our order. To us
+belongs the world; you shall assist to reconquer it. Unbelievers
+shall be fought with every weapon. Every deception, slander,
+persecution, and murder, are holy if used for the benefit of the
+holy order. You shall shrink from nothing which is useful and
+beneficial for the sublime goal. The murder of a prince is no sin,
+but a just punishment, when it is necessary to remove a mighty
+enemy. If you create revolutions, cause nations to tear each other
+to pieces in grim civil war, these revolutions will be sanctified,
+the civil wars blessed, if they serve to strengthen the power of our
+order, and gain victory at last against the opponents. Only through
+our order can happiness reenter the world, and mankind be rescued.
+If the Holy Fathers do not sit in the council of princes, if they
+are not the conscience of the powerful, and steer the machine of
+state, the world goes to destruction, and mankind is lost. You shall
+help, my son, to turn aside the evil, and prepare happiness for
+earth. You have already done much, but much more is required. Go and
+work miracles; belief in them sanctifies the mind. Our fathers will
+sustain you everywhere, for you well know they are always present,
+though it is imagined they are not. The infamous Ganganelli has
+stripped them of their uniform, but not annihilated them, as we are,
+and ever shall be. I have sent out nine thousand brothers in Europe
+for the benefit of the order, and you will recognize them by the
+watchword. They will serve you as you will serve them. If danger
+menaces you, our brothers will know it, and rescue you. You will be
+unassailable, so long as you work for the order, and win disciples
+for it. Prussia is our important station as you rightly judged, and
+I extol you for your foresight. You prepare the future, for here it
+will be! When the royal mocker of religion dies, then comes a new
+kingdom, and the Rosicrucians will rise to power. Vices as well as
+virtues must serve us; therefore Dischofswerder and Wilhelmine Enke
+are useful means for holy purposes. That you have recognized it I
+praise you. Continue, my son, as you have begun, and you shall
+become powerful upon the earth. Not a hair of your head shall be
+touched so long as you are faithful to the Invisible Fathers. But so
+soon as you turn traitor to the holy cause you are lost, and our
+anger will crush you!"
+
+"Never will I turn traitor," cried Cagliostro, holding up his hands
+as if taking an oath.
+
+"I hope not. Our enemies shall be your enemies, and our friends your
+friends. If one of the brothers orders you in my name, 'Kill this
+man or that woman,' so kill them! Swear it!"
+
+Shuddering, Cagliostro repeated, "I swear it!"
+
+"As soon as one of the brothers orders you, in my name, 'Rescue this
+man or that woman,' so do every thing; even risk and sacrifice your
+life to rescue him."
+
+"I swear it."
+
+"You stand in the holy temple of the order, but also under its
+avenging sword. Be mindful of it in all your acts. The world is open
+to you, and our influence will be with you everywhere. You shall win
+the hearts of the great and the mighty to us, and place the Order of
+the Rosicrucians on the steps of the throne. The Great Kophta shall
+lead believers to us."
+
+"The Great Kophta will perform all that you command, as he is only
+the humble servant of his general," said Cagliostro, kissing the
+hand extended to him.
+
+"Do not kiss the hand, it is only that of an inferior mortal: kiss
+the ring, for it is the imperishable sign of our immortal saint."
+
+"I kiss the ring of the immortal Ignatius Loyola, and swear eternal
+fidelity, constant obedience, and firm love, until death."
+
+"Rise! for the time has come for us to separate. I have provided for
+the journeys the necessary means. Here are letters of recommendation
+to Warsaw and Mittau, others to Paris and London; but, the most
+important of all, letters of credit upon well-known bankers to the
+value of five hundred thousand dollars--all valid, though delivered
+years hence."
+
+"A half million!" cried Cagliostro, almost terrified.
+
+"Does a half million astonish you?" repeated the General, and his
+gray, fleshless face was distorted into a smile. "The Great Kophta
+must travel and live like a prince, that he may dazzle the eyes of
+the brothers, and subjugate the minds of the powerful. We give you
+the money, but remember you are always under the watchful eye of the
+order, and there is no spot on earth where you can hide yourself
+from our vengeance with the trust confided in you. You shall spend
+it to buy souls and win thrones, for hearts and consciences are
+sold; money will buy every thing. Take your letters of credit; you
+shall live as a great lord, and the Great Kophta shall be equal with
+princes."
+
+He handed Cagliostro five sealed letters, saying: "They are made out
+for five years; only one for each year, as the number indicates.
+Number one is for this year, and number five is only valid at the
+expiration of five years. The order is mindful of your security, and
+thus five years of your life are freed from earthly care. You shall
+work in spirit, and you shall enchant the world, that it may be
+saved through the only saving Church, and the Holy Order."
+
+He bowed a farewell, making the sign of the cross upon Cagliostro,
+and bent his steps to the throne, raising the veil which enveloped
+Lorenza. She looked up to him with glowing cheeks and sparkling
+eyes, smiling. By this she would express her thanks for the princely
+gift to her husband, and swear to the General her delight, her
+fidelity, and love. He regarded her as coldly and calmly as a
+physician a patient.
+
+"Yes, holy father, I have heard all," she said, with a sweet, flute-
+like voice. "My heart is filled with gratitude and emotion."
+
+"Prove it by assisting your husband to attain the goal for which we
+send him forth. I have already said that vice must serve virtue,
+Lorenza. Beauty is a power, and if it serves holy purposes, so is it
+sanctified. Employ your beauty to win adherents to the order, and
+extend the power of the Rosicrucians in every land, and among all
+nations."
+
+"I swear that this shall be my holiest endeavor," cried Lorenza,
+rising.
+
+The General pressed her back upon the pillow, saying: "Remain, for
+there is no one here for you to enchant. I bring you pardon for your
+sins, and an indulgence for every sin which you will commit, if you
+swear to serve faithfully the holy Church and the pious fathers of
+Jesus."
+
+"I swear," solemnly cried Lorenza.
+
+"Here is the letter of indulgence from Pius VI. himself, made out in
+your name for you. Take it, and perform your duty." He laid down the
+parchment provided with the papal seal upon her shoulder, and
+drawing the veil over her made the sign of the cross, saying, "I
+bless you, and give you absolution for your sins."
+
+"Bless me also, lord and master," cried Cagliostro, kneeling upon
+the lowest step to the throne.
+
+"I bless you in the name of Loyola. Remain upon your knees, and
+follow me not." He extended his hands over him, and blessed him,
+then slowly withdrew.
+
+The first beams of the morning sun shone through the great window-
+panes, lighting up with its golden rays Cagliostro's kneeling form.
+He remained with his head bowed until the General had passed out.
+"He is gone; Heaven be praised, he is gone!"
+
+"Yes, he is gone," repeated Lorenza, springing from the couch. "Is
+it true, has he given you half a million?"
+
+Cagliostro held up with triumphant air the letters. "See, these
+addresses are upon the first banking-houses in Rome, Paris, London,
+and Berlin!"
+
+"Do you believe that they are genuine?"
+
+"I am convinced of it."
+
+"Then we have attained our aim; we are rich and powerful."
+
+"No," answered Cagliostro, mournfully, "we are poorer than ever.
+This money makes us slaves, makes us dependent tools. Did you not
+hear him say, 'You are admitted into the Temple, but the avenging
+sword of the order everywhere hangs over you.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+A PENSIONED GENERAL.
+
+
+"Wife," cried the General von Werrig, limping around the room,
+leaning upon his crutch, "here is the answer from our most gracious
+lord and king. The courier arrived to-day from the war department,
+and sent it to me by an express."
+
+"What is the king's answer?" asked the general's wife, a pale, gaunt
+woman, with a pock-marked face, harsh, severe features, dull gray
+eyes, which never beamed with emotion, and thin, bloodless lips,
+upon which a smile never played. "What is the king's answer?" she
+repeated, in a rough voice, as her husband, puffing and blowing from
+the effort of walking, sank down upon a chair, and dried his fat,
+ruby face with a red cotton pocket-handkerchief.
+
+"I have not read it," panted the old man. "I thought I would leave
+the honor to you, as you, my very learned wife, wrote the letter to
+his majesty."
+
+His wife was not in the least astonished at this thoughtful conduct
+of her husband. She impetuously seized the sealed document, and,
+retiring to the window-niche, slowly unfolded it, whilst the old
+general fixed his little gray eyes upon her emotionless face. His
+own was bloated and red, expressing the greatest anxiety and
+expectation. Perfect stillness reigned for some minutes, only the
+regular strokes of the pendulum were heard from the clock on the
+wall; and, as the hands pointed to the expiration of the hour, a
+cuckoo sprang out of the tree painted over the dial, and eleven
+times her hoarse, croaking voice was heard.
+
+"It gets every day more out of tune," growled the general, as he
+looked up to the old, yellow dial, and ran his eye over the cords
+which supported the weights. Then glancing around the room, he saw
+everywhere age, decay, and indigence. There was an old divan, with a
+patched, faded covering of silk, and a grandfather's arm-chair near
+it, the cushion of which the general knew, by the long years of
+experience, to be hard as a stone. A round table stood near the
+divan, covered with a shabby woollen cover, to hide the much-
+thumbed, dull polish. A few cane-chairs against the wall, an old
+black-oak wardrobe near the door, and the sewing-table of Madame von
+Werrig in the window-niche, completed the furniture of the room. At
+the window hung faded woollen curtains, and on the green painted
+walls some pictures and portraits, conspicuous among them a
+beautiful portrait of the king, painted on copper, which represented
+Frederick in his youthful beauty. It was a morose, sullen-looking
+room, arranged most certainly by its feminine occupant, and
+harmonized exactly with her fretful face and angular figure, void of
+charms. At last the general broke the silence with submissive voice:
+"I pray you, Clotilda, tell me what the king wrote."
+
+She folded the paper, joy beaming in her eyes. "Granted! every thing
+granted!"
+
+The general jumped up to embrace his wife with youthful activity, in
+spite of the gout. "You are a capital wife," he cried, at the same
+time giving her a loud, smacking kiss upon her cold, gray cheek. "It
+was the brightest, cleverest act of my life marrying you, Clotilda."
+
+"I might well say the reverse, Emerentius," she replied,
+complainingly. "It surely was not sensible for me, a young lady from
+such a genteel family, and so spoiled, to marry an officer whom the
+king ennobled upon the battle-field, and who possessed nothing but
+his captain's pay--a fickle man, and a gambler, too."
+
+"Yes, Clotilda, love usurped reason," soothingly replied the
+general; "love is your excuse."
+
+"Nonsense!" cried Madame von Werrig. "Love is never an excuse; it is
+folly."
+
+"Well, let us suppose, then, that you did not marry for love, only
+from pure reason, because you found that it was quite time to
+espouse some one; and that, in spite of your many ancestors and
+genteel family, no other chance was offered you, unfortunately no
+one but this captain, whom the king ennobled upon the battle-field
+of Leuthen on account of his bravery, and who was a very handsome,
+agreeable officer, expecting still further promotion. And you were
+not deceived. I was major, when the Hubertsburger treaty put an end
+to a gay war-life. You will remember I was advanced during peace;
+his majesty did not forget that I cut a way for him through the
+enemy, and he made me lieutenant-colonel and colonel, when I was
+obliged to resign on account of this infamous gout, and then I
+received the title of general."
+
+"Without 'excellency,'" replied his wife, dryly. "I have not even
+this pleasure to be called 'excellency.' It would have been a slight
+compensation for my sad, miserable existence, and vexed many of the
+female friends of my youth if they had been obliged to call me
+'excellency.' But my marriage brought me only cares, not even a
+title."
+
+"Do not forget a lovely daughter, Clotilda. Our Marie is beautiful,
+wise, and good, and through her you will yet have tranquil
+happiness. For you say the king has granted all we wish."
+
+"Every thing!" repeated the wife, with emphasis. "We have at last
+finished with want and care, and can count upon an independent,
+quiet old age, for God has been gracious, and forced you, from the
+gout, to give up gambling, and we are freed from the misery which
+has so often threatened us from your unhappy passion."
+
+"At the beginning, I played from passion; afterward, I only played
+to win back what I had lost."
+
+"And in that manner played away all we possessed, and played upon
+your word of honor, so that for years the half of our pension went
+to pay your gambling-debts. Heaven be thanked, the king did not know
+it, or we would have experienced still worse!"
+
+"I pray you, beloved Clotilda, do not fret yourself needlessly about
+the past; it is all over, and, as you say, I am unfortunately a
+prisoner in the house from the gout, which shields me from the
+temptation."
+
+"I did not say unfortunately; I said 'Heaven be praised, the gout
+had put an end to your fickle life.'"
+
+"Then, thank Heaven, my dear; we will not quarrel about it. It is
+past, and, as the king has granted all, we shall have a pleasant
+life now."
+
+"We will soon receive from our son-in-law a yearly pension, which
+will be paid to me, and I shall spend it."
+
+The general sighed. "In that case I fear that I shall not get much
+of it."
+
+"At any rate, more than I have ever received from your pension."
+
+"There is but one thing wanting," replied the general, evasively,
+"Marie's consent."
+
+Madame von Werrig gave a short, gruff laugh, which did not in the
+least brighten her sullen face. "We will not ask her consent, but
+command it."
+
+The general remarked, timidly, shrugging his shoulders, "Marie had a
+very decided character, and--"
+
+"What do you hesitate to speak out for? What--and--"
+
+"I think she still loves the Conrector Moritz."
+
+A second laugh, somewhat menacing, sounded like a challenge. "The
+schoolmaster!" she cried, contemptuously.
+
+"Let her dare to tell me again she loves the schoolmaster; she the
+daughter of a general, and a native-born countess of the empire!"
+
+"My dear, it was your fault--the only fault you ever committed,
+perhaps. How could you let such a young, handsome, and agreeable man
+come to the house as teacher to our daughter?"
+
+"How could I suppose my daughter was so degenerated as to love a
+common schoolmaster, and wish to marry him?"
+
+"It is truly unheard of, and it would make any one angry, my dear
+wife, for she insists upon loving him."
+
+"She will not insist, she will do what she is commanded to do--my
+word for it! But why talk about it? It is better to decide the
+matter at once."
+
+So Frau von Werrig rose with a determined manner, and rang the small
+brass bell which was upon the sofa-table. But a few seconds elapsed
+before a little, crooked servant appeared at the side-door, with her
+dirty apron put aside by tucking the corner in her belt. "Go to my
+daughter, and tell her to come down immediately!"
+
+The servant, instead of hastening to obey the order, remained
+standing upon the threshold. "I dare not go," said she, in a hoarse,
+croaking voice. "Fraulein told me not to disturb her to-day, for she
+has still two bouquets of flowers to arrange, and two lessons to
+give, and she is so busy that she is not at home to visitors. She
+torments herself from morning till night."
+
+"I order you to tell Fraulein to come down at once; we have
+something important to tell her. No contradiction! go, Trude!"
+
+The servant understood the cold, commanding tone of the mother, and
+dared not disobey.
+
+"It is nothing good that they have to tell her," grumbled Trude, as
+she hurried up the stairs which led from the first story into the
+little, low room in the attic, under the sloping roof. Here and
+there a few tiles could be lifted, which lighted the garret
+sufficiently to show the door at the end. "May I come in, my dear
+Fraulein? it is Trude."
+
+"The door is open," cried a sweet voice, and Trude entered. It is a
+most charming little room, just that of a young girl. The bed has a
+snow-white covering, and white curtains, suspended from a hook in
+the wall around it. The same curtains at the low gable-windows,
+whose depth, so to speak, made a light anteroom to the real gloomy
+one in the background. In this little anteroom the young girl had
+placed all that was necessary for her pleasure and use. There were
+the most beautiful, sweet-scented flowers upon the window-stool; in
+a pretty metal cage was a light-colored canary. There were also
+pretty engravings, and upon the table stood a vase filled with
+superb artificial flowers, and before it sat the possessor of this
+room, the daughter of General and Frau von Werrig, surrounded with
+her work-tools, paper, and colored materials--a young girl, scarcely
+twenty, of a proud, dignified appearance, but simply and gracefully
+dressed. According to the fashion of the day, her hair was slightly
+powdered, and raised high above her broad, clear brow with a blue
+rosette, and ends at the side. The nobly-formed and beautiful face
+was slightly flushed, and around the month was an expression of
+courageous energy. As old Trude entered, the young girl raised her
+eyes from the rose-bud which she was just finishing, and looked at
+her. What beautiful black eyes they were as they sparkled underneath
+the delicately-arched, black eyebrows!
+
+"Now, old one," said she, kindly, "what do you wish? Did you forget
+that I wanted to work undisturbed to-day?"
+
+"Didn't forget it, my Fraulein, but--"
+
+"But you have forgotten that up here, in my attic-room, I am not
+your Fraulein, but your Marie, whom you have taken care of and
+watched over when a child, and whose best and truest friend you have
+been. Come, give me your hand, and tell me what you have to say."
+
+Old Trude shuffled hurriedly along in her leather slippers. Her old,
+homely face looked almost attractive, with its expression of glowing
+tenderness, as she regarded the beautiful, smiling face before her,
+and laid her hard brown hand in the little white one extended to
+her. "Marie," she said, softly and anxiously, "you must go down at
+once to your mother and father. They have something very important
+to tell you."
+
+"Something very important!" repeated Marie, laying aside her work.
+"Do you know what it is?"
+
+"Nothing good, I fear," sighed the old woman. "A soldier has been
+here from the war department and brought a letter for the general,
+and he told me that it was sent from the king's cabinet at Breslau."
+
+"Oh, Heaven! what does it mean?" cried Marie, frightened, and
+springing up. "Something is going to happen, I know. I have noticed
+certain expressions which escaped my father; the proud, threatening
+manner of my mother; but above all the bold importunity of that man,
+whom I despise as one detests vice, stupidity, and ennui. They will
+not believe that I hate him, that I rather--"
+
+"Marie, are you not coming?" called the mother, with a commanding
+voice.
+
+"I must obey," she said, drawing a long breath, and hastening to the
+door, followed by Trude, who pulled her back and held her fast upon
+the very first step. "You have forbidden me to speak of him, but I
+must."
+
+Marie stood as if rooted to the spot, her face flushed, and in
+breathless expectation looking back to old Trude.
+
+"Speak, Trude," she softly murmured.
+
+"Marie, I saw him to-day, an hour ago!"
+
+"Where, Trude, where did you see him?"
+
+"Over on the corner of Frederick Street, by the baker's. He stood
+waiting for me, as he knows I always go there. He had been there two
+hours, and feared that I was not coming."
+
+"What did he say? Quick! what did he say?"
+
+"He said that he was coming to see you to-day at twelve o'clock;
+that he would rather die than live in this way."
+
+"To-day? and you have just told me of it!"
+
+"I did not mean to say any thing at all about it; I thought it would
+be better, and then you would not have to dissemble. But now, if any
+harm comes to you, you know he is coming, and will stand by you!"
+
+"He will stand by me--yes, he will--"
+
+"Marie!" cried her mother, and her dry, gaunt figure appeared at the
+foot of the stairs. Marie flew down to the sitting-room of her
+parents, following her mother, who took her place in the niche at
+the open window without speaking to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE KING'S LETTER.
+
+
+"Marie," said the general's wife, after seating herself upon the
+hard cushion of the divan, near which sat the general in his arm-
+chair, busily stroking his painful right leg--"Marie, take a chair,
+and sit near us."
+
+Marie noiselessly brought a cane-chair, and seated herself by the
+table, opposite her parents.
+
+"We have just received a communication from the king's cabinet,"
+said the mother, solemnly. "It is necessary that you should know the
+contents, and I will read it aloud to you. I expressly forbid you,
+however, to interrupt me while I am reading, in your impetuous
+manner, with your remarks, which are always of the most obstinate
+and disagreeable kind. You understand, do you, Marie?"
+
+"Perfectly, mother; I will listen without interrupting you,
+according to your command."
+
+"This communication is naturally addressed to your father, as I
+wrote to the king in his name."
+
+"I did not know that you had written to his majesty at all, dear
+mother."
+
+The mother cast a furious glance at the gentle, decided face of her
+daughter. "You already forget my command and your promise to listen
+without interrupting me. I did, indeed, write to his majesty, but it
+is not necessary to tell you what I, or rather your father,
+solicited, as you will hear it in the answer from our most gracious
+king. It runs thus: 'My faithful subject: I have received your
+petition, and I was glad to learn by this occasion that you are
+well, and that you now lead a steady, reasonable life. Formerly you
+gave good cause of complaint; for it is well known to me that you
+led a dissolute life, and your family suffered want and misfortune
+from your abominable chance-games. You know that I have twice paid
+your debts; that at the second time I gave you my royal word of
+assurance that I would never pay a groschen for you again. If you
+gave yourself up to the vice, and made gambling-debts, I would send
+you to the fortress at Spandau, and deprive you of your pension.
+Nevertheless you played again, and commenced your vicious life anew.
+Notwithstanding which, I did not send you to prison as I threatened,
+and as you deserved, because I remembered that you had been a brave
+soldier, and did me a good service at the battle of Leuthen. For
+this reason I now also grant your request, that, as you have no son,
+your name and coat-of-arms may descend to your son-in-law. The name
+of Werrig-Leuthen is well worthy to be preserved, and be an example
+to succeeding generations. I give my permission for Ludwig
+Ebenstreit, banker, to marry your daughter and only child, and--'"
+
+Marie uttered a cry of horror, and sprang from her seat. "Mother!--"
+
+"Be still! I commanded you not to interrupt me, but listen, with
+becoming respect, to the end, to the words' of his majesty." And,
+with a louder voice, occasionally casting a severe, commanding
+glance at her daughter, she read on: "'And call himself in future
+Ludwig Werrig yon Leuthen. I wish that he should honor the new name,
+and prove himself a true nobleman. Ludwig Ebenstreit must give up,
+or sell, without delay, his banking business, as I cannot permit a
+nobleman to continue the business of citizen, and remain a merchant.
+A nobleman must either be a soldier or a landed proprietor; and if
+your future son-in-law will not be either, he can live upon his
+income, which must indeed be ample. But I command him to spend it in
+the country, not go to foreign countries to spend what he has gained
+in the country. If he should do it, it will not be well with him,
+and he shall be brought back by force. You may communicate this to
+him, and he can judge for himself. I will have the letters of
+nobility made out for him, for which he shall pay the sum of one
+hundred louis d'ors to the 'Invalids' at Berlin. It depends upon him
+whether as a true nobleman he will not give my poor 'Invalids' a
+greater sum. The marriage shall not take place until the letters of
+nobility have been published in the Berlin journals, for I do not
+wish the daughter of a general, and a countess, to marry beneath
+her. You can prepare every thing for the wedding, and let them be
+married as soon as publication has been made. I will give the bride
+a thousand thalers for a dowry, that she may not go to her rich
+husband penniless; the money will be paid to your daughter from the
+government treasury at her receipt. As ever I remain your well-
+disposed king, FREDERICK.'
+
+"And here on the margin," continued the general's wife, looking over
+to her husband with malicious pleasure, "the king has written a few
+lines in his own hand: 'I have given orders that the money shall be
+paid to your daughter in person, with her receipt for the same, for
+I know you, and know that you do not play, not because you have not
+the money, but the gout. If you had the cash and not the gout, you
+would play your daughter's dowry to the devil, and that I do not
+wish, for a noble maiden should not marry a rich husband as poor as
+a church mouse. FREDERICK.'"
+
+A profound stillness prevailed when the reading was finished. The
+general busied himself, as usual, rubbing his gouty leg with the
+palm of his hand. Marie sat with her hands pressed upon her bosom,
+as if she would force back the sighs and sobs which would break
+forth. Her great, black eyes were turned to her mother with an
+expression of painful terror, and she searched with a deathly
+anxiety for a trace of sympathy and mercy upon her cold, immovable
+face.
+
+Her mother slowly folded the letter, and laid it upon the table.
+"You know all now, Marie--that, as it becomes parents, we have
+disposed of your future and your hand. You will submit to their
+wishes without murmuring or opposition, as it becomes an obedient,
+well-brought-up daughter, and receive the husband we have chosen for
+you. He will come today to hear your consent, and you from this day
+forth are the betrothed of the future Herr von Werrig. Of course
+from this very hour you will cease the highly improper and ungenteel
+business which you have pursued. You must not make any more flowers,
+or give any more lessons. The time of such degradation and
+humiliation is past, and my daughter can no longer be a school-
+mistress. You have only to write the receipt to-day, and I will go
+with you to the treasury to get the money."
+
+"I will not write the receipt," said Marie, gently but firmly. Her
+mother, in the act of rising, sank back upon the divan; and the
+general, apparently quite occupied with his leg, stopped rubbing,
+and raised his red, bloated face to his daughter in astonishment.
+"Did I understand rightly your words, that you would not write the
+receipt?"
+
+"Yes, mother, I said so; I cannot and will not write it," replied
+Marie, gently.
+
+"And why cannot you, and will you not write it?" said her mother,
+scornfully.
+
+"Because I have no right to the money, and cannot take it, mother,
+as I will never be the wife of the man you intend me to marry."
+
+The general sprang with a savage curse from his arm-chair, and would
+have rushed to his daughter, but his wife pushed him back into his
+seat, and approached Marie, who rose, regarding her mother with a
+firm, sad expression. "Why can you not be the wife of the man we
+have chosen for you? Answer me, WHY you cannot?"
+
+"You know, mother," she replied, and gradually her voice assumed a
+more decided tone, her cheeks reddened, and an inspired expression
+beamed from her eyes, and pervaded her whole being--" you know,
+mother, that I can never be the wife of Herr Ebenstreit, for I do
+not love him. I despise and abominate him, because he is a man
+without honor; he knows that I do not love him, and yet he insists
+upon marrying me. If it were not so, if I did not despise and
+abominate him, I would not receive his suit and marry him."
+
+"Why not?" cried the general, shaking his fist at his daughter.
+
+"Why not?" cried the mother, with a cold, icy glance, void of pity
+or anger.
+
+Marie encountered these looks with beaming eyes. "Because I am
+betrothed to another," and the words came like a cry of joy from her
+heart--" because I am engaged to my beloved Moritz!"
+
+"Shameless, obstinate creature, have we not forbidden it?" cried her
+father.
+
+"Stop!" interrupted his wife, with a commanding wave of her hand,
+which silenced the obedient husband immediately. "It belongs to me
+to question her, for I am her mother, and my daughter owes me
+submission and obedience above all things.--Answer me, Marie, did
+you not know that we had forbidden you to speak to this man, or have
+any communication with him? Did you not know that I, your mother,
+had menaced you with a curse if you married this man, or even spoke
+to the miserable, pitiable creature?"
+
+"Mother," cried Marie, vehemently, "he is not a poor, miserable
+creature. You may hate him, but you dare not outrage the noble, the
+good, and just man!"
+
+"He is a good-for-nothing fellow," cried her father; "he has tried
+to win a minor behind the parents' back. He is a shameful, good-for-
+nothing seducer."
+
+"He is dishonorable," cried the general's wife--"a dishonorable man,
+who has misused our confidence. We confided to him our daughter to
+teach, and paid him for it. He improved the opportunity to make a
+declaration of love, and stole the time from us to infatuate the
+heart of our daughter with flattery, and from his pupil win a
+bride."
+
+"Oh, unworthy, shameful slander!" cried Marie, her eyes flashing
+with anger. "You well know that it is a vile scandal, that Moritz
+was no paid teacher. If he had been--if he had felt obliged to yield
+to the sad necessity of being paid for his valuable time, because he
+was poor, and forced to live by his intellect, he was a free man,
+and had the right to love whom he chose. He loves me, and I have
+accepted his love as the most precious, most beautiful, and most
+glorious gift of my life. Ah! do not look so angry with me, father;
+I cannot say otherwise. I cannot crush or deny the inmost life of my
+life.--Oh, mother, forgive me that I cannot change it! You know that
+otherwise I have been a most obedient daughter to you in all things,
+although you have never taught me the happiness of possessing a
+loving mother; though neither of you could ever forgive your only
+child for not being a son, who could inherit your name, and win a
+brilliant position, yet I have always loved you tenderly and truly,
+and never complained that the unwelcome daughter received neither
+love nor tenderness, only indifference and coldness from her
+parents."
+
+"Beautiful, very beautiful!" replied the mother, contemptuously.
+"Now you wish to blame us that you are a heartless and thankless
+daughter.--We have not understood her heart, and it is our fault
+that her love has flown somewhere else.
+
+This is the language of romance. I have, indeed, read it in the
+romances of Herr Moritz, and my daughter has only repeated what she
+learned as a docile pupil from her schoolmaster. Very fine, to pay
+Herr Moritz to form our daughter into the heroine of a romance! She
+ought to have learned the languages, but has learned only the
+language of romances."
+
+"You are very severe and very cruel, mother," said Marie, sadly. "I
+would not complain, only excuse myself, and implore pity and
+indulgence, and defend myself from the reproach of having been a
+cold, unloving daughter. Oh! God knows how I have longed for your
+love; that I would willingly prove that I would joyfully do every
+thing to embellish your life and make you happy. It gave me such
+pleasure to earn something for you with my dear flowers and lessons,
+and afford you a little gratification!"
+
+"Ah! now, she will reproach us with having toiled for us and
+sacrificed herself. Husband, thank yourself for the victim who
+worked for you, who gave her youth for us that she might strew our
+life with roses."
+
+"I have had enough of this talking and whining," cried the general,
+furiously beating the table with his fist. "My daughter shall not be
+a heroine of romance, but an obedient child, who submits to the will
+of her parents. You shall marry the man that we have chosen for you;
+the king has given his consent, and it shall take place. I command
+you! That is sufficient! I will hear no more about it; the thing is
+done with. Herr Ebenstreit is coming this afternoon to make you a
+proposal of marriage with our consent, and you must, accept him. I
+command you to do it!"
+
+"I cannot obey you! Oh, do not force me to rebel against God's holy
+laws! Have pity upon me! I have obeyed you until now, and yielded to
+your wishes, although I thought it would break my heart sometimes.
+You have forbidden Moritz the house, and turned him out of doors
+like a servant, with scorn and contempt, and he has silently borne
+it on my account. You have forbidden me to write or receive letters
+from him, or ever to meet him. My mother would curse me if I
+disobeyed her, and I submitted. I have given up every thing,
+sacrificed every wish, and renounced my love. But you cannot expect
+more from me, or dare ask it. I can forego happiness, but you cannot
+ask me to consent to be buried alive!"
+
+"And what if we should wish it?" asked her mother. "If we should
+demand our daughter to give up a romantic, foolish love, to become
+the wife of a young man who loves her, and who loves us, and who is
+rich enough to assure us a comfortable old age, free from care?"
+
+"Marie," cried the general, in a begging and almost imploring tone,
+"Marie, prove to us now that you are really a good and grateful
+child--we have had so much care and want in our life, so many
+sorrowful days! It lies in your hands to make our declining days
+joyous and bright, and free us from want. We have often grumbled
+against God, that He did not give us a son; now make us to rejoice
+that He has given us a daughter, who will bring us a son and inherit
+our name through her children, and who will give us what we have
+never known--prosperity and riches. I beg you, my dear, good child,
+grant your parents the few last years of their life freedom from
+care!"
+
+"And I, Marie," said her mother, in a softened and tender tone,
+which Marie had never heard from her--"I beg you also, be a good
+daughter, pity your mother! I have always led a joyless, unhappy
+life. I lived unmarried, a native-born countess, with proud
+relations, who made me feel bitterly my dependence; when married my
+existence was only trouble, privations, care, and sorrow. I beg you,
+Marie, teach me to know happiness, for which I have so longed in
+vain; give me independence and prosperity, which I have always
+desired, and never known. I pray, Marie, make us happy in bringing
+us a rich, genteel, and good son-in-law, Herr Ebenstreit."
+
+Marie, who met the scorn and threats of her mother with firmness and
+a proud demeanor, trembled as she heard these severe and merciless
+lips, always so cold and harsh, now begging and imploring. At first
+she was quite frightened, and then terrified, and covered her face
+with her hands, her head sinking upon her breast as her mother
+spoke.
+
+"Speak, my daughter," cried the general, as his wife was silent.
+"Speak, my dear Marie. Say the word, and we shall be all happy, and
+there will be no happier family found in Berlin, or the world even.
+Say that you will marry Ebenstreit, and we will love and bless you
+so long as we live. Do say yes, dear Marie!"
+
+Her hands fell from her face, and stretching them out toward her
+parents, she looked at them in despair.
+
+There was a fearful pause. "I cannot, it is impossible!" she
+shrieked. "I cannot marry this man, for I do not love him. I love
+another, whom I can never forget, whom I shall love forever. I
+love--"
+
+"Herr Conrector Moritz!" announced Trude, hastily bursting open the
+door, and looking in with a triumphant smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+HATE AND LOVE
+
+
+"Herr Conrector Moritz wishes to pay his respects," called out Trude
+again.
+
+"We do not wish to receive him," cried Frau von Werrig.
+
+"He dare not presume to enter!" shrieked the general.
+
+Marie cried, "Moritz! Oh! my beloved Moritz," rushing with
+outstretched arms toward her lover, who just appeared at the door.
+"God has sent you to sustain me in this fearful hour."
+
+Old Trude peeped through the half-closed door, well satisfied to see
+her dear young lady folded in Moritz's arms, and her head leaning
+upon his shoulder. "Yes," she murmured, closing softly the door,
+"Marie is right, God himself sent her lover in this hour, and I
+would not let her wicked, hard-hearted parents send him away."
+
+Quick as thought she turned the key, fastening the door, and betook
+herself to the farthest room, carefully closing every door between
+them. "Now we will see for once whether they will show him the door,
+and pitch him out. No, they will be obliged to listen to him. Old
+Trude wishes it, for it will make her dear Marie happy. It is all
+the same to me if the old German tries to scratch my eyes out for
+it; I will take good care to keep out of his way. I must go and
+listen once."
+
+She put her ear to the keyhole, and then her eye, to see how the
+quarrellers looked.
+
+At first the general and his wife were quite alarmed, and almost
+speechless as they witnessed the joyful meeting of the lovers. The
+father sprang up suddenly, with clinched fist, but instead of bitter
+invectives only a fearful shriek of pain was heard, as he sank
+groaning and whimpering into his armchair. The gout had again seized
+its victim. Anger had excited the general's blood, and had also
+brought on the pain in his leg again. His wife took no notice of his
+cries and groans, for it was quite as agreeable to her to be the
+only speaker, and have her moaning husband a kind of assenting
+chorus. "Leave each other!" she commanded, as she approached the
+lovers, flourishing her long shrivelled arms about. "Leave each
+other, and leave my house!"
+
+Laying her hand on Marie's arm, which was thrown around her lover's
+neck, she endeavored to tear her away, and draw her daughter toward
+herself. But Marie clung only the more firmly, and Moritz pressed
+her more fervently to his heart. They heeded not and heard not the
+outburst of anger which the mother gave way to. They read in each
+other's eyes the bliss, the joy of meeting again, and the assurance
+of constant, imperishable love.
+
+"You are pale and thin, my beloved!"
+
+"Sorrow for you is consuming me, Marie, but, thank Heaven, you are
+unchanged, and beautiful as ever!"
+
+"Hope and love have consoled and strengthened me, Philip."
+
+"Enough! I forbid you to speak another word to each other," and with
+the power which rage lends, the mother tore Marie away. "Herr
+Moritz, will you tell me by what right you force yourself into our
+house, and surprise us like a street-thief in our peaceful dwelling?
+But no! you need not tell me, I will not listen to you. Those who
+permit themselves to enter our room unasked and unwelcomed--I will
+have nothing to say to them. Leave! there is the door! Out with you,
+off the threshold!"
+
+With calm demeanor, Moritz now approached Fran von Werrig, demanding
+her pardon, saying: "You see, madame, that I am not so unwelcome
+here, therefore you will be obliged to let me remain."
+
+"Yes, that she will," sneered Trude, outside the door. "It will be
+difficult for her to send him off so long as I am unwilling."
+
+"No, I will not permit it. We have nothing to do with each other.
+Out of my sight!--Away!"
+
+"Away!" cried the general. "Oh, the gout, the maddening pains! I
+cannot throw the bold fellow out of the house! I must lie here, and
+writhe like a worm! I cannot be master of my house. Oh, oh! what
+pain!"
+
+"Stay, Philip," whispered Marie, as she again leaned toward Moritz.
+"They wish to sell me and force me to a hated marriage. Do not
+yield! save me!"
+
+"You are mine, Marie; yon have sworn to me eternal constancy, and no
+one can compel you to marry if you do not wish to."
+
+"We are her parents; we can, and we will compel her," triumphantly
+cried Frau von Werrig. "The king has given his consent, and if it is
+necessary we will drag her to the altar by force!"
+
+"Do it, mother, and I will say no before all the world."
+
+"We will take care that no one hears you but the priest, and he will
+not listen, as he knows that the king has commanded you to say yes!"
+
+"But God will hear her, Frau yon Werrig, and He will take vengeance
+on the cruel, heartless mother."
+
+"I will await this vengeance," she sneered. "It does not concern
+you, and you need not trouble yourself about it. Leave the house!"
+
+"I came here to speak with you, and I will not go away until you
+have listened to me."
+
+"Then I will leave, for I will not hear you, and I command you to
+follow me, Marie!"
+
+She seized Marie with irresistible force, and drew her toward the
+side door, which was fast. Then hurried toward the entrance,
+dragging her daughter after her, but shook it in vain; that door was
+fastened also.
+
+"Oh! I could kiss myself," murmured Trude, as she patted her old,
+wrinkled cheeks. "I was as cunning and wise as Solomon. There,
+shriek for Trude, order her to open it. Trude is not there, and she
+has no ears for you!"
+
+"This is a plot--a shameful plot!" cried Frau yon Werrig, stamping
+her feet. "That good-for-nothing creature, Trude, is in it. She has
+locked the doors, and the schoolmaster paid her for it."
+
+Trude shook her fist at her mistress behind the door. "Wait! that
+good-for-nothing creature will punish you! You shall have something
+to be angry about with me every day."
+
+"I swear to you that I do not know who locked the doors," replied
+Moritz, calmly. "But whoever did it, I thank them from the depths of
+my soul, for it forces you to listen to me, and may love give my
+words the power to soften your heart. General and Frau von Werrig, I
+conjure you to have compassion upon us. Is it possible that you are
+deaf to the cry of grief of your own child?"
+
+Suddenly assuming a contemptuous calm, Frau von Werrig sank back
+upon the divan with great dignity. "As I am obliged to listen to
+you, through a shameful deception, let it be so. Try to make ears in
+my heart, which you say is deaf. Let me listen to your wonderful
+eloquence!"
+
+"Oh, Philip!" said Marie, clasping his arms, "you see it will all be
+in vain."
+
+"Let me hope to succeed in awakening a spark of loving mercy, as
+Moses caused the fountain to gush from the rock.--A year since you
+turned me insultingly from your door, Frau von Werrig, and you
+forbade me with scorn and contempt to ever cross your threshold. In
+the rebellious pride of my heart I swore never to do it again, never
+to speak to those who had so injured me. The holy, pure love which
+binds me to this dear girl has released me from my oath. We have
+tried to live separated from each other a long year, an
+inconsolable, unhappy year! We hoped to renounce each other,
+although we could not forget. Marie, as an obedient daughter, obeyed
+your commands, and returned the ring, which I gave her in a moment
+of affection and holy trust. I released her from the oath of
+constancy, and made her free! But it is in vain! During this year I
+have striven with sorrow as a man, helpless in a desert, who writhes
+in the folds of the poisonous serpent. I should have gone mad if a
+consoling word from a great and noble mind had not roused me from my
+desolation, and if love had not shed a ray of light into my
+benighted soul. I listened no longer to sickening pride and humbled
+sense of honor. Love commanded me to come here, and I came to ask
+you, Marie, in the presence of your parents, if you will be my wife;
+if you will accept my poor, insignificant name, and be contented by
+my side to lead a quiet, modest existence. I can only earn
+sufficient to assure us a peaceful life. I have no splendor, no
+treasures to offer you, but only my love, my heart, my life, my
+whole thought and being. Will you accept it, Marie?"
+
+"I do accept it, Moritz, as the greatest happiness of my life. I
+desire only your love, and I can return only my love to you! Here is
+my hand, Philip, it belongs to you alone! Let us kneel in humility
+before my parents, and implore their blessing.--Oh, my father and
+mother, have pity upon us! See this dear man, to whom my whole heart
+belongs. I desire only to live and toil with him. There are no
+riches, no treasures, to compare with his love!"
+
+"General and Frau von Werrig, grant me the wife of my heart!" cried
+Philip Moritz, deeply moved. "It is true, I am not worthy of her, I
+have no name, no position, to offer her, but I swear to strive to
+gain it for her. I will win by my talents and knowledge a
+distinguished name, and perhaps one day you will concede to my fame
+that I am a noble man, though not a nobleman. Will you separate two
+hearts which belong to each other? Take me for your son-in-law, and
+I swear to be devoted and faithful, to love and honor you for your
+daughter's sake. I can say no more--words cannot express all that I
+feel. Love causes me to kneel before you, love makes me humble as a
+child. I implore you to give me your daughter in marriage."
+
+"I also implore you," cried Marie, sinking down beside Moritz, "give
+to me this man, whom I love and honor, for my husband."
+
+It was a beautiful and impressive scene--these two young beings
+pleading for happiness; their eyes flashing with the inspiration of
+feeling, conscious that they were one in affection, and ready to
+combat the whole world for each other. But Frau von Werrig was
+immovable, and the general was too much occupied with his gouty,
+throbbing leg even to cast a look upon the beautiful group of youth,
+love, manly determination, and tender resignation.
+
+Outside the door, Trude knelt imploringly, with folded hands, while
+the tears ran down her old cheeks in big drops. "O God, I well know
+that they have no pity; have mercy Thou, and cause my dear Marie to
+be happy! Suffer not that that hard-hearted woman should sell her,
+and marry her to that bad man my Marie despises. I well know that I
+am a poor creature, and not worthy that Thou shouldst listen to me,
+O Lord! But I love that young girl as if she were my own child, and
+I would give my heart's blood for her. Oh, my God! I implore Thee to
+let my Marie be happy!" Then she continued, as she rose from her
+knees. "Now, I have spoken, and I commit every thing to God, and He
+will do what is best. She has been obliged to listen to him, and if
+it cannot be otherwise, he must go."
+
+Carefully old Trude unlocked both doors, and then stopped to listen.
+
+Trude was right, there was no mercy in Frau von Werrig's heart.
+"Have you finished? Have you any thing more to say?" she asked, in
+her most unsympathizing manner.
+
+"Nothing more with our lips, but our hearts still implore you."
+
+"I do not understand this language, sir, and you have not succeeded
+in giving me hearing, or ears to hear with. In this useless strife I
+will say a last word, which I hope will be for life. You shall never
+be the husband of my daughter! You can never be united."
+
+Marie and Moritz sprang from their knees, laying their hands in each
+other's, and looked what words could not have better expressed--"We
+are inseparable, nothing can disunite us but death!"
+
+"I desire you not to interrupt me," commanded Frau von Werrig; "I
+have listened to you, and now you shall listen to me. I promise you
+to speak with more brevity than you have. I will not trouble you
+with useless phrases and tedious lamentations. I will speak to the
+point. Marie is the daughter of General Werrig von Leuthen, whose
+name would become extinct if the grace and favor of the king had not
+prevented it, by permitting the husband whom we have chosen for our
+daughter to take our name, and therewith become our son. You may
+think, in your arrogance of commoner, and the pride you take in
+having won the love of the daughter of General von Leuthen, that you
+could be this husband and son-in-law. But two things fail you:
+first, the necessary fortune; and, secondly, the king's consent, and
+that of her father. If you were rich, it might be possible that we
+should be touched by the tender amorousness of our daughter, and
+conquer our aversion to you for her sake. You are of low birth, and
+take a subordinate position in society. It would be extremely
+laughable for the schoolmaster Moritz to change suddenly into a Herr
+von Werrig Leuthen. Our son-in-law must be a rich man, in order to
+be able to give his new title consideration; and, fortunately, the
+wooer of my daughter's hand possesses this qualification, and
+therefore we have given our consent. The king has approved our
+choice, and permits the rich banker Ludwig Ebenstreit to become our
+son-in-law, and take our name. The king has in this communication,
+which lies upon the table, and which Marie has heard read, given his
+assurance to ennoble Ebenstreit upon two conditions: first, that the
+banker should give up his business, and live upon his income; and,
+secondly, that the marriage should not take place until the papers
+of nobility are made out and published, so that the daughter of
+General von Werrig should not make a misalliance. You know all now,
+and you will at last understand that there is but one thing for you
+to do--conquer your foolish presumption, and beg to be excused for
+your unheard-of boldness in forcing yourself into our house, and
+then withdraw quickly. If my ear does not deceive me, your
+accomplice has opened the doors. I think I heard rightly, if my
+heart has no ears, my head possesses better. We have finished. I
+would again enjoin upon you the duty of begging for pardon, and then
+I close this unrefreshing scene with the same words with which it
+opened--there is the door--go out!"
+
+"Yes, there is the door--go out of it! I want to be quiet--go! My
+daughter is the betrothed of the rich banker Herr Ebenstreit; she
+will be his wife as soon as the papers are made out and published.--
+Go!" cried the general.
+
+The young couple still stood there, hand in hand, looking at the
+general, until now their eyes met, beaming with tenderest affection
+for each other. "Is it true, Marie? Speak, my beloved, is it true,
+will you be the wife of this rich man whom your parents have chosen
+for you?"
+
+"No, Philip," she calmly and firmly replied. "No, I will not, for I
+do not love him, I love only you; and here, in the presence of God
+and my parents, I swear to you that I will be constant to death!
+They can prevent my becoming your wife, but they cannot force me to
+wed another. I swear, then, that if I cannot be yours, I will never
+marry!"
+
+"I receive your oath, and God has heard it also!" said Moritz,
+solemnly.
+
+"I have also heard it, and I tell you," said Frau von Werrig, "that
+this romantic heroine will become a perjurer, for I will find means
+to make her break her silly oath."
+
+"We will, perhaps, find means to delay the marriage," said Moritz
+proudly, "or, much more, prevent the marriage ceremony."
+
+"I am very curious to know the means," said Frau von Werrig. "From
+this hour Marie is the betrothed of Herr Ebenstreit, and the wedding
+will take place so soon--"
+
+"So soon as the title of nobility is published. That is it, is the
+clause to be filled; and therefore I tell you, beloved, wait and
+hope! This woman is without pity and without mercy; but God is in
+heaven, and Frederick the Great on the earth. Wait and hope. Be firm
+in hope, and constant in love. Do not lose courage, and let them
+force you to compliance by threats and anger. I have only you to
+confide in and to love in the world, and you are my hope, my goal,
+and the happiness of my life. If you forsake me, I lose my good
+angel, and am a lost, miserable man, whom it would be better to hurl
+into the deepest abyss than let him suffer the torments of hated
+existence. The knowledge of your love gives me strength and courage;
+it will inspire me to fight like a hero, to win the dear, beloved
+wife, to whom I would yield my life in order to receive it anew from
+her purified and sanctified. The knowledge that I had lost you,
+would ruin me."
+
+Laying both hands upon his shoulder, Marie looked at him with eyes
+beaming with affection, renewing her vow that she would never love
+or marry another. "We will be courageous in hope, and brave in
+constancy. Listen to me, my beloved; listen, my mother--I betrothed
+myself to this dear man! You can prevent my becoming his wife now,
+but in four years I am of age, and then I shall be my own mistress.
+Then, my dear Philip, I will be your wife. Let us wait and hope!"
+
+"Yes, Marie, we will wait and hope.--Farewell! Do not forget that
+there is a great God in heaven, and a great king upon earth.--
+Farewell!"
+
+He pressed the hand clasped in his own passionately to his tips, and
+felt from the pressure of her delicate fingers a renewed vow of
+constancy. Buoyed with this hope in the sad hour of parting, they
+were happy and joyful. Marie accompanied him to the door--still hand
+in hand.
+
+"Presume not to go a step farther," commanded her mother, and Marie,
+obedient to her wishes, remained near the door, bowed to Moritz, and
+never ceased to regard him, with love beaming in her eyes, until the
+door closed. Outside stood old Trude, to tell him that she would be
+at the baker's at seven o'clock every morning, and wait for his
+commissions, "and may be I shall have something to bring you," she
+said. "So do come!"
+
+"I will, my good Trude; you are the only person who is friendly to
+us. Watch over my angel, console her with your affection, and when
+they are too hard upon her, come to me."
+
+"I surely will, but listen--they are already quarrelling with my
+good angel. I will go in, to serve as a lightning-rod for dear
+Marie. I often do it, and it pleases me when the lightning strikes,
+and dashes my hard old head to the ground, but does not hurt me at
+alL--Farewell, Herr Moritz, the lightning-rod must go in."
+
+Trude entered suddenly and noiselessly the sitting-room, and
+interrupted the angry reproaches which Frau von Werrig hurled
+against Marie in a furious stream of words. The countess's rage
+turned against Trude, who stared as if to challenge her. "What do
+you want? How dare you enter uncalled?"
+
+"I thought you were calling deaf old Trude, or why did you scream
+so?" replied Trude, tartly.
+
+"Perhaps it was the general. Ah! there lies the poor, dear old man,
+groaning and crying, and nobody has any pity for him."
+
+"Ah! Trude, it is good luck that you are here," whined the general.
+"No one troubles himself about me. Quick, bring warm covering for my
+leg, the pain is fearful!"
+
+"Poor, dear father, I will take care of you, I will nurse you," said
+Marie, hastening to him. Her mother pushed her back violently. "Not
+a step farther; you have no right to go near him, you are his
+murderess. On your head will fall the guilt, if these dreadful
+scenes should cause his death."
+
+"No, no, the general will not die quite yet," said Trude busying
+herself about his arm-chair. "But, Fraulein, you have got something
+else to do than stay here. They have already sent for the flowers
+twice, and the French lady is waiting up-stairs to parlez-vous."
+
+Marie looked her friendly thanks, and quietly and quickly left the
+room.
+
+"Now, bold woman, I have a last word to say to you. Who locked the
+door when that creature came?" "I, madame," answered Trude, who was
+just bringing a great cushion from the back-room to cover the
+general's feet.
+
+"You acknowledge that you locked the door intentionally?"
+
+"Now, my dear, good Frau von Werrig, one does not lock a door by
+mistake. I did not want Herr Moritz to run away with fright, before
+you had given him your mind, and set his head straight. He would
+certainly have escaped, and only heard the half of your beautiful
+talk, for he had no idea what a miserable fellow he is. So I locked
+both doors, and he was obliged to listen to you, and has gone away
+contrite and repentant. There, there, my poor, dear general, is your
+foot high enough? Shall I not bring the foot-warmer?"
+
+"You shall not bring any thing, nor do any thing more. You are a
+hypocrite, who connives with Moritz. Leave my house this very hour!
+You are dismissed my service. Go pack up your things and be off!"
+cried Frau von Werrig.
+
+"Oh, do not go, Trude, for mercy's sake, for then I have no one to
+help me," cried the general.
+
+"I cannot do otherwise, she has given me my dismissal." Trude
+approached Frau von Werrig respectfully, saying, "So I must pack up
+and go away at once?"
+
+"Immediately, you deceitful creature!"
+
+"Immediately! but Frau von Werrig will be so good as to give me my
+wages."
+
+"Yes," she answered in a slower and more subdued voice. "That shall
+be done presently."
+
+"It will not be so very difficult to reckon them, I have been here
+twenty years; just as many years as Marie is old, for I came as
+child's nurse, and have helped her learn to talk and walk, and
+played mother to the dear child a bit. Then I obtained my wages, for
+they were good times; but the pension-time came, and we had no cook
+or servant but me. 'The rats run away if the ship springs a leak,'
+but the old mole Trude stayed. Mankind is in the world to work, I
+said, and why should not I be the cook and waiting-maid too, that my
+little Marie should not want any thing? So I became maid-of-all-work
+and have stayed here ever since. Then, you told me you would double
+my wages, and give me twenty thalers a year, and four thalers at
+Christmas. Is it not so, Frau von Werrig?"
+
+"I believe that was the agreement."
+
+"I am quite certain about it," cried the general, who began to
+understand the drift of Trude. "Yes, Trude was to have twenty
+thalers a year, and we are owing her many years' wages. You know,
+wife, I have always kept an account-book for the debts, and only a
+few days ago--Oh! oh! the pain! Trude, help me cover up the foot
+warmer!--we reckoned it up a few days ago, and we owe Trude one
+hundred and thirty thalers."
+
+"One hundred and thirty thalers," repeated Trude, clapping her
+hands, astonished. "Is it true? oh, that is splendid. I shall be
+rich, and get a husband yet. I pray you give it to me, Frau von
+Werrig, right away."
+
+"Not so quickly," said she, proudly. "We will reckon together how
+much you have saved--because--"
+
+"Oh!" interrupted Trude, "how good you are to make me keep so much;
+you are my savings bank, where I can deposit my money."
+
+"Because," she continued, with emphasis, without noticing the
+interruption, "our future son-in-law will pay your wages, the rich
+banker, Herr Ebenstreit. Yes, the wealthy lover of our daughter. At
+the moment I have not so much cash in the house."
+
+"Your grace will allow me to stay until Herr Ebenstreit is married,
+and, in your name, pays me my wages?"
+
+"Yes, Trude, I will allow you to stay," she replied, very
+graciously. "You will be cunning, Trude, if you try to persuade
+Marie to accept the rich suitor, for when she does I will give you
+two hundred thalers."
+
+"I will do all I can to get it. Can I remain here until Marie is
+married?"
+
+"Yes, you have my permission for that."
+
+"I thank you, Frau von Werrig. Now, general, I will bring you some
+warm coverings right away."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE.
+
+
+"Now tell me, Wolf," asked Duke Charles Augustus, stretching himself
+comfortably on the sofa, puffing clouds of smoke from his pipe--"
+are you not weary of dawdling about in this infamously superb pile
+of stones, called Berlin? Shall we any longer elegantly scrape to
+the right and to the left, with abominable sweet speeches and mere
+flattering phraseology, in this monster of dust and stone, of sand
+and sun, parades and gaiters? Have you not enough of blustering
+generals, of affected women? and of running about the streets like
+one possessed to see here a miserable church, or there a magnificent
+palace? Are you not weary of crawling about as one of the many,
+while at home you stride about as the only one of the many? And
+weary also of seeing your friend and pupil Carl August put off with
+fair promises and hollow speeches like an insignificant, miserable
+mortal, without being able to answer with thundering invectives. Ah!
+breath fails me. I feel as if I could load a pistol with myself, and
+with a loud report shoot over to dear Weimar. Wolf, do talk, I beg
+you, I am tired out; answer me."
+
+"I reply, I shoot, my dear Carl," cried Goethe, laughing. "I was out
+of breath myself from that long speech. Was it original with my dear
+prince, or did he memorize it from Klinger's great 'Sturm-und-Drang'
+tragedy? It reminded me of it."
+
+"Do you mean to accuse me of plagiarism, wicked fellow? I grant that
+you are right, my cunning Wolf, it was a lapsus. I did think of
+Klinger, and I sympathized with his youthful hero Wild, who declared
+that, among the sweetest pleasures, he would like to be stretched
+over a drum, or exist in a pistol-barrel, the hand ready to blow him
+into the air."
+
+Goethe shoved aside the breakfast-table, straightened his delicate
+form, with his noble head proudly erect, and one foot in advance,
+extended his right arm, giving one loud hurrah! "Now, for once, a
+tumult and noise, that thought may turn about like a weathercock.
+This savage noise has already wrought its own benefit. I begin to
+feel a little better. Rage and expand, mad heart, quicken yourself
+in hurly-burly-burly-burly!" [Footnote: From Klinger's tragedy
+"Sturm und Drang."]
+
+"Bravo! bravo!" laughed the duke. "Is that Klinger, or who is it
+that refreshes himself in hurly-burly?"
+
+"It is I who am every thing," replied Goethe, striding and
+swaggering up and down. "I was an assistant, in order to be
+something--lived upon the Alps, tended the goats, lay under the
+vault of heaven day and night, refreshed by the cool pastures, and
+burned with the inward fire. No peace, no rest anywhere. See, I
+swell with power and health! I cannot waste myself away. I would
+take part in the campaign here; then can my soul expand, and if they
+do me the service to shoot me down, well and good!" [Footnote: From
+Klinger's tragedy "Sturm und Drang."]
+
+"Bravo! Wild, bravo!" cried the duke. "Hei! that thundered and
+rolled, and struck fire! It does me good to hear such vigorous words
+from an able rare genius in the midst of this miserable, starched
+elegance. The powerful Germans are healthy fellows. Something of the
+Promethean fire blazes forth in them. They were forced to come,
+those jolly, uproarious boys, after the affected cue period; they
+were the full, luxurious plants, and my Wolfgang, the favorite of my
+heart, my poet and teacher, is the divine blossom of this plant. Let
+them prevail, these 'Sturmer und Dranger,' for they are the fathers
+and brothers of my Wolfgang. Do me the sole pleasure not to refine
+yourself too much, but let this divine fire burst forth in volcanic
+flames, and leave the thundering crater uncovered. Sometimes when I
+see you so simpering, so modest and ceremonious, I ask myself, with
+anxiety, if it is the same Wolfgang Goethe, who used to drink
+'Smollis' with me at merry bacchanals out of death-skulls?--the same
+with whom I used to practise whip-cracking upon the market-place
+hours long, to the terror of the good citizens?--the same who used
+to dance so nimbly the two-steps, and was inexhaustible in mad
+pranks. Now tell me, Herr Wolfgang, are you yourself, or are you
+another?"
+
+"I am myself, and not myself," answered Goethe, smiling. "There
+still remains a good portion of folly in me, and it must sometimes
+thunder and flash, but I hope the atmosphere of my soul will become
+clearer, and over the crater a more lovely garden will spread out,
+in which beautiful, fragrant flowers will bloom, useful and
+profitable for my friends and myself. Sometimes I long for this as
+for the promised land; then again it foams and thunders in me like
+fermenting must, which, defying all covers and hoops, would froth up
+to heaven in an immense source of mad excitement!"
+
+"Let it froth and foam, and spring the covers, and burst the old
+casks," cried the duke; "I delight in it, and every infernal noise
+you make, the prouder I am to recognize that from this foaming must
+will clear itself a marvellous wine, a delicious beverage for gods
+and men, with which the world will yet refresh itself, when we are
+long gone to the kingdom of shades--to the something or nothing. You
+know, Wolf, I love you, and I am proud that I have you! It is true
+that I possess only a little duchy, but it is large enough to lead
+an agreeable and comfortable existence--large enough for a little
+earthly duke, and the great king of intellects, Johann Wolfgang
+Goethe. Let us return to our dear home, for I acknowledge to you I
+sigh for Weimar. I long for the dear little place, where every one
+knows me and greets me, and even for my dogs and horses."
+
+"And I," said Goethe, "I really mourn for my Tusculum, which I owe
+to the generous, kind duke; for the balcony of my little cottage,
+where, canopied by the blue, starry vault of heaven, I dream away
+the lonely May nights."
+
+"Is there nothing else you sigh for but the summer-house at Weimar?"
+
+"No!" cried Goethe, and an indescribable expression of rapture and
+delight was manifest in his whole manner.
+
+"No, why should I deny it, how could I? It would be treason to the
+Highest and most Glorious. No, I long for my muse, my mistress,
+my--"
+
+"Beloved!" interrupted the duke. "I pray you not to be so prudish,
+so reserved. Have the courage to snap your fingers at this
+infamously deceitful moral code, and proud and distinguished as you
+are, elevate yourself above what these miserable earthworms call
+morality. For the eagle there is a different law than for the
+pigeon. If the eagle soars aloft through the ether to his eyry,
+bearing a lamb in his powerful claws, has he not a right to it--the
+right of superiority and power by God's grace? Has he not as much
+right to the lamb as the pigeon to the pea which she finds in the
+dust? If the pigeon by chance sees the eagle with his lamb, she
+cries, 'Zeter! mordio!' with the pea in her own bill, as if she were
+in a position to judge the eagle."
+
+"A beautiful picture," cried Goethe, joyfully--"a picture that would
+inspire me to indite a poem."
+
+"Write one, and call it for a souvenir 'The Eagle and the Dove.'
+Make it a reality, my eagle youth, bear off the white lamb to your
+eyry, and let the world, with its affected morality, say what it
+likes. How can you bear to see the one you love at the side of
+another man? Tell me, confess to me, is not the beautiful Charlotte
+von Stein your beloved?"
+
+"Not in the sense you mean, duke, not in the vulgar sense of the
+word. I love her, I adore her, with a pure and holy sentiment. I
+would not that Charlotte should have cause to blush before her
+children on my account. She would be desecrated to me if I, in my
+inmost soul, could imagine the blush of shame upon her cheek, or
+that her eye could brighten at other than great, beautiful, and
+noble acts. I adore her, and to me she is the ideal of the purest
+and sweetest womanhood. I rejoice that she is as she is, like clear
+mountain crystal--transparent and so brightly pure, that one could
+mirror himself therein. She stands above all other women, and to her
+belong all my thoughts, and would, even if I were wedded to another.
+To me she is the most beautiful of the beautiful, the purest of the
+pure, the most graceful of the graceful, and all my thoughts are in
+perfect harmony with hers. Now, duke, if it is agreeable to you,
+knowing my feelings, to call Charlotte von Stein my beloved, she is
+so in the most elevated sense of the word."
+
+"Ah! you poets, you poets," sighed the duke, smiling.
+
+"A streak of madness in you all, though I will grant that it is
+divine."
+
+"Say rather that Whit-Sunday comes to us every day, and the divine
+Spirit descends daily upon us poets, and causes us to speak in
+unknown tongues."
+
+"I will say that you are the god Apollo descended from heaven, and
+with gods one may not dare to dispute. They act differently in their
+sphere than we mortals upon earth. I will be contented if our ways
+cross from time to time, and we can once in a while walk on together
+a good piece the way of life in friendship and harmony. If it would
+please my Wolf, I propose to turn toward beloved Weimar, the dear
+place, half village, half city. For my part I am finished here, my
+business with General yon Mollendorf is accomplished. As I told you
+previously, I have had made known to the king my refusal to allow
+recruiting in my duchy. I could not consent for the present. In
+short, I have spoken as my secretary Wolfgang Goethe has
+recorded.[Footnote: This memorial upon recruiting is found.
+"Correspondence of the Grand Duke Carl August and Goethe," part, i.,
+p. 4.] General Mollendorf has waived his demand for the present--and
+to-day we have had the concluding conference, and if it is agreeable
+to my secretary, we might set off this afternoon and pass a day at
+Dessau, and then on to Weimar."
+
+"Oh, gladly will I do it; it seems as if a star from heaven had
+twinkled to me to follow it, for at Weimar is centred all my
+happiness! I prefer a lowly cabin there to all the splendor and
+palaces of a city."
+
+"Then you agree with me, that this magnificently vile Berlin does
+not enchain you in her magic net?"
+
+"No, she holds me not, though it has been pleasant to take a peep
+into it (like a child into a curiosity-box). I have seen 'Old
+Fritz.' His character, his gold, and his silver, his marbles, his
+apes and parrots, and even his town curtains please me. It is
+pleasant to be at the seat of war at the very moment that it
+threatens to break forth. It has gratified me to witness the
+splendor of the royal city, the life, order, and abundance, that
+would be nothing if thousands of men were not ready to be
+sacrificed; the medley of men, carriages, horses, artillery, and all
+the arrangements. All are mere pins in the great clock-work, only
+puppets whose motion is received from the great cylinder, Fredericus
+Rex, who indicates to each one the melody they must play, according
+to one of the thousand pins in the rotary beam."[Footnote: Goethe's
+own words.--See Goethe's "Correspondence with Frau von Stein," part
+i., p. 168. Riemer, "Communications about Goethe," part ii., p. 60.]
+
+"You are right to compare the great man to the chief cylinder in the
+machine of state," nodded the duke "He rules and sets all in motion,
+and cares not whether the rabble are suited or not. It has enraged
+me sometimes to hear the fellows curse him, and yet I acted as if I
+heard them not. Let us return to Weimar--mankind seems better there,
+Wolf."
+
+"At any rate, more regardful of us than they are here, duke. The
+greater the world the uglier the farce; no obscenities and fooleries
+of the buffoon are more disgusting than the characters of the great,
+mediocre and insignificant, all mingled together. I prayed this
+morning for courage to hold out to the end, and to hasten the
+consummation. I am grateful for the benefit of the journey--but I
+pray the gods not to conduct themselves toward us as their image-
+man, for I should swear to them eternal hatred."[Footnote: Goethe's
+own words.--See Goethe's "Correspondence with Frau von Stein," part
+i., p. 169.]
+
+"Then you are ready to depart, Wolf?"
+
+"Almost, dear Carl, or, if you will it, quite ready. A few visits I
+would make, that the people shall not be too severe upon me and cry
+out against my pride and arrogance."
+
+"Because they themselves are proud and supercilious, they are bold
+enough to suppose Wolfgang Goethe is like them. I hope you will not
+visit the very learned Herr Nicolai, the insipid prosaist, the
+puffed-up rationalist, who believes that his knowledge permits him
+to penetrate every thing, and who is a veritable ass."
+
+"No, I am not going to Nicolai, Rammler, or Engel, or, as they
+should be named, the wise authors of Berlin. I shall visit the
+artist Chodowiecki, good Karschin, occasional poetess, and the
+philosopher Mendelssohn. Then, if it pleases you, we will set out
+this afternoon, shaking the sand of Berlin from our feet."
+
+"I shall prepare whilst you make your visits. Will you take my
+carriage? You know there is one from the royal stables always at my
+service, which stands at the door."
+
+"Beware! they would shriek if I should drive to their doors in a
+royal carriage. They would accuse me of throwing aside the poet, and
+being only secretary of legation. I will go on foot; it amuses me to
+push my way through the crowd, and listen to the Berlin jargon."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+GOETHE'S VISITS.
+
+
+Taking leave of his ducal friend, Goethe betook himself the street,
+to commence his visits. Going first to Chodowiecki, the renowned
+delineator and engraver, whose fame had already spread throughout
+Germany. When Goethe entered, the artist was busy in his atelier,
+working upon the figures of the characters in the "Mimic," the
+latest work of Professor Engel. "Master," said he, smilingly,
+extending him his hand, "I have come to thank you for many
+beautiful, happy hours which I owe to you. You paint with the chisel
+and poetize with the brush. An artist by God's grace."
+
+"If the poet Goethe says that, there must be something in it,
+"replied Chodowiecki, with a radiant face. "I have to thank you for
+the most beautiful and best hours of my life, and I am proud and
+delighted to have been able in the least to return the pleasure. The
+only blissful tears among many bitter ones that I have wept, were
+shed over the 'Sorrows of Werther.' 'Gotz von Berlichingen' so
+inspired me that he appeared to me in my dreams, and left me no
+peace until I rose in the night to draw Gotz, as he sat talking with
+brother Martin on the bench in the forest. Wait, I will show you the
+drawing; you must see it."
+
+Goethe examined it attentively, and expressed his pleasure at the
+correctness and dramatical conception of the design, and did not
+remark, or perhaps would not, that the artist was busily occupied
+with crayon and paper. "How wonderfully you have reproduced my
+'German Knight,'" cried Goethe, after a long observation of it. "The
+middle ages entire, proud and full of strength, are mirrored in this
+figure, and if I had not written 'Gotz von Berlichingen,' I would
+have been inspired to it, perhaps, from this drawing. Oh! you
+artists are to be envied. We need many thousand words to express
+what a few lines represent, and a stroke suffices to change a
+smiling face into a weeping one. How feeble is language, and how
+mighty the pencil! I wish I had the talent to be a painter!"
+
+"And I," cried Chodowiecki, "would throw all my pencils, brushes,
+and chisels to the devil, or sell him my soul, if I could cope with
+the genius and intellect of the poet, Wolfgang Goethe. What a man!
+What a profile the gods have given him! There! look--have you ever
+seen a man with such a face?" He handed Goethe the drawing, which
+proved to be a speaking profile-portrait of himself, dashed off with
+a few strokes full of genius.
+
+Goethe looked at it with the air of a critic. "It is true," said he,
+perfectly serious, "there are not many such profiles, but I am not
+of your opinion that the gods fashioned it. Those sharp features
+look as if the joiner had cut them out of oak, and they lead me to
+infer a very disagreeable character. I naturally do not know who the
+picture represents, but I must tell you, master, that this man could
+never please me, although I could swear it is a speaking likeness.
+This sharp, bowed nose has something impudent, self-sufficient in
+it. The brow is indeed high, which betokens thought, but the
+retreating lines prove that the thoughts only commence, and then
+lose themselves in a maze. The mouth, with its pouting lips, has an
+insupportable expression of stupid good-nature and sentimentality;
+and the well-defined, protruding chin might belong to the robber-
+captain Cartouche. The great wide-open eyes, with their affected
+passionate glances, prove what a puffed-up dandy the man must be,
+who perhaps imagines all the women in love with his face. No, no, I
+am still of the opinion that the original could never please me, and
+if the physiognomist Lavater should see it, he would say: 'That is
+the portrait of a puffed-up, quaint, powerful genius, who imagines
+himself something important, and who is nothing! The likeness of a
+bombastic fellow, with an empty head behind the pretentious brow,
+and meaningless phrases on the thick lips.'"
+
+"If Lavater says so, he is a fool and an ass," cried Chodowiecki,
+furiously, "and he can hide himself in the remotest corner of the
+earth. Lichtenberg of Gottingen is quite right when he says that
+this empty-headed Lavater has made himself ridiculous throughout
+Germany with his wonderful physiognomy of dogs' tails and his
+profiles of unknown pigtails. If Lavater is really so narrow-minded
+as not to be able to distinguish a crow from an eagle, it is his own
+affair; but he shall never presume to look at this portrait, and
+you, too, are not worthy, you scorner, that I should get angry with
+you. The likeness is so beautiful that Jupiter himself would be
+satisfied to have it imputed to him. It is so like, that you need
+not pretend you do not know that it represents Wolfgang Goethe. As
+you insult it, and regard it with scorn and contempt, I will destroy
+it."
+
+"For mercy's sake do not tear it," cried Goethe, springing toward
+Chodowiecki, and holding him fast with a firm grasp. "My dear good
+man, do not tear it; it would be like splitting my own head."
+
+"Ah, ah!" shouted Chodowiecki. "you acknowledge the likeness?"
+
+"I do acknowledge it, with joy."
+
+"And will you admit that it is the head of a noble, talented poet, a
+favorite of the Muses? Say yes, or I will tear it, and you will have
+terrible pains in your head your life long!"
+
+"Yes, yes! all that you wish. I am capable of saying the most
+flattering things of myself to save this beautiful design. Give it
+to me, you curious fellow!"
+
+"No," said Chodowiecki, earnestly, "I will not give it to you. Such
+a portrait is not made to be put in a dusty portfolio, or framed for
+the boudoir of your lady-love. All Germany, all the world should
+enjoy it, and centuries later the German women will still see
+Wolfgang Goethe as he looked in his twenty-ninth year, and hang an
+engraving on the wall in their parlor, and sighing and palpitating
+acknowledge--'There never was but one such godlike youth, and there
+never will be another. I wish that I had known him; I wish he had
+loved me!' So will they speak centuries later, for I will perpetuate
+this drawing in a steel engraving of my most beautiful artistic
+work." [Footnote: This engraving from the artist Chodowiecki still
+exists, and the author of this work possesses a beautiful copy,
+which Ottille von Goethe sent her. It is a bust in profile, the most
+beautiful of his youth.]
+
+"You are a splendid fellow, and I must embrace you, and rejoice to
+be immortalized by you, for this portrait pleases me exceedingly. I
+might well be proud that this head with the rare profile is a
+counterpart of my own. Now we are good friends. Before I say
+farewell, let me see the work at which I just disturbed you upon
+entering."
+
+Goethe was about to raise the cloth, when Chodowiecki waved him
+back. "Do not look at it," said he, quickly; "I dislike to appear as
+a mechanic before you, as I wish that you should honor only the
+artist. We poor toilers are badly off, as the old proverb is ever
+proving true with us, 'Art goes for bread.' We must be mechanics the
+chief part of our lives, in order to have a few hours free, in which
+we are allowed to be artists. I have to illustrate the most
+miserable works with my engravings, to buy the time to pursue works
+of art."
+
+"That is the interest, friend, which you pay the world for the great
+capital which the gods confided to you. Believe me, the artist
+Chodowiecki would have but a morsel to eat if the mechanic
+Chodowiecki did not serve him a tempting meal, paying the bill. Do
+not be vexed about it; man must have a trade to support him, as art
+is never remunerated. [Footnote: Goethe's words--See G. H. Lewes's
+"Goethe's Life and Writings," vol. 1., p. 459.] I hope the mechanic
+will be well paid, that the artist may create beautiful and rare
+works for us. This is my farewell visit to-day, friend. If you will
+hear a welcome from me very soon, come to Weimar, and see how one
+honors the artists there, and how well appreciated Chodowiecki is."
+
+Goethe embraced and kissed the artist, who regarded him, his face
+radiant with joy, and would not be prevented from accompanying him
+to the house door, as if he were a prince or a king. "Now to Madame
+Karschin," said Goethe to himself, as he hastened through the
+streets in that direction. "The good woman has welcomed me with so
+many pretty verses that I must make my acknowledgments, in spite of
+my decision to keep the Berlin authors at a distance."
+
+From Wilhelm Street, where Chodowiecki lived, to the tilt-yard, was
+not far, and Goethe soon reached the old, antiquated house where the
+poetess lived. After many questionings and inquiries at the lower
+stories and more splendid apartments of the house, he found the
+abode of the poetess, and climbed up the steep stairs to the
+slanting attic-room. The dim light of a small window permitted
+Goethe to read upon a gray piece of paper, pasted upon the door,
+'Anna Louisa Karsch, German poetess.' He knocked modestly at the
+door at first, then louder, and as the voices within never ceased
+for a moment their animated conversation, he opened it, and entered
+the obscure room.
+
+"I will do it, sir," said the little woman sitting in the window-
+niche near a table to a young man standing near her. "I will do it,
+though I must tell you album writing is very common. But you must
+promise me to return here, and let me see what Herr Rammler writes,
+and tell me what he says about me. These are my conditions."
+
+"Frau Karschin, I promise you, upon the word of honor of a German
+youth, who can never lower himself to break his word."
+
+"Very well! then I will write."
+
+There was perfect silence. The youth watched the little, dry hand
+which guided the pen, with a devotional mien, and Goethe with eager
+curiosity, who, unobserved, stood like a suppliant at the door of
+the obscure little room, the shabby furniture of which betrayed the
+narrow circumstances of the German poetess. It harmonized with the
+occupant, a little, bony, meagre figure, wearing a tight-fitting
+blue-flowered chintz dress. Upon the gray hair, which, parted in the
+middle, encircled the low forehead, was a cap, which had lost its
+whiteness and was, therefore, more in harmony with the ruff about
+her yellow, thin neck. Her sharp, angular features were redeemed by
+large, dark eyes, flashing with marvellous brilliancy from under the
+thick, gray eyebrows, and with quick, penetrating glances she
+sometimes turned them to the ceiling thoughtfully as she wrote.
+"There, sir, is my poem," said she, laying down the pen. "Listen:
+
+'Govern your will; If it hinders duty, It fetters virtue; Then envy
+beguiles Into fault-finding.' "
+
+"Oh, how beautiful, cried the young man, enraptured. "I thank you a
+thousand times for those glorious words, and they shall henceforth
+be the guiding star of my existence."
+
+"Go to Professor Rammler, and: then return and show me what he
+writes, for I am convinced--. Oh, Heavens! there is a stranger," she
+cried, as she discovered Goethe, who had remained standing by the
+door.
+
+"Yes, a stranger," said Goethe, smiling, and approaching, as the
+happy possessor of the album withdrew--"a stranger would not leave
+Berlin without visiting the German poetess."
+
+"And without verses in your album; is it not so? I have become the
+fashion, and if I could only live by immortalizing myself in your
+albums, I should be free from care. Now I have divined it--you wish
+an autograph?"
+
+"No! only a good word, and a friendly shake of the hand, for I
+possess a poem and a letter which the good Frau Karschin sent me at
+Weimar some six months since, written by herself."
+
+"Is it Goethe?" she cried, clasping her hands in astonishment. "The
+poet Johann Wolfgang Goethe, the renowned author of the work
+which--"
+
+"Cost you many tears," broke in Goethe, laughing. "I beg you spare
+me these phrases, which follow me upon my journey as the Furies
+Orestes. I know that 'Werther' has become the favorite of the
+reading public; he has opened all the tear-ducts and made all lovers
+of moonlight as soft as a swaddling-cloth. I could punish myself for
+having written 'Werther.'"
+
+Frau Karschin laughed aloud. "That is glorious! You please me! You
+are a famous poet and a genius, for only geniuses can revise and
+ridicule themselves. Welcome, Germany's greatest poet, welcome to
+the attic of the poetess! There is the good word which you would
+have, and here is the hand. Did you think it worth while to visit
+poor Karschin? I am rejoiced at it, for I see that they accused you
+unjustly of arrogance and pride!"
+
+"Do they accuse me of it?" asked Goethe, smiling. "Can the Berlin
+poets and authors never forgive me that I live at a court, and am
+honored with the favor of a prince?"
+
+"They would willingly forgive you if they had the power to push you
+one side, and take your place. They are angry with you, because they
+envy you and are not accustomed to be esteemed. Our prince and
+ruler, as great a hero and king as he otherwise is, cares little for
+German poetry, and for all he would care, the Berlin authors might
+starve, one and all; he would trouble himself no more about them
+than the flies dancing in the sunlight."
+
+"The great king is still the same, then? He will never know anything
+of German literature?"
+
+"No! he declares that it is the language of barbarians and bear-
+catchers; scolds about us, and despises us, and yet knows as little
+of us as the man in the moon. He adores his Voltaire. Old Fritz
+knows the French poet by heart, but Lessing he knows nothing of. He
+abuses 'Goetz von Berlichingen,' and 'Werther's Sorrows.'"
+
+"Oh! I know it all--I know the king's adjutant-general, von
+Siedlitz. I often dine with him, and read aloud my poems to him,
+when he relates to me what the king says to enrage me. You must know
+when I am angry I speak in verse. I accustomed myself to it during
+my unhappy marriage with the tailor Karsch. When he scolded, I
+answered in verse, and tried to turn my thoughts to other things,
+and to make the most difficult rhymes. As he was always scolding and
+quarrelling, I always spoke in rhyme."
+
+"And in this way you led a very poetical marriage?" smiled Goethe.
+
+"Yes, indeed, poetical," she said, and her large brilliant eyes were
+dimmed. "If it is true that tears are the baptism of poets, then I
+was baptized daily for twelve years, and ought to be an
+extraordinary poetess."
+
+"That you are, indeed," said Goethe, "who would dispute it? You have
+given evidence of great poetical talent, and I read your heroic poem
+upon the Great Frederick with real delight."
+
+"Do you know what he did?" she asked, bitterly. "I turned to him,
+begging for assistance; for who should a poet turn to, but his God
+and his king? Moreover, he had promised it to me personally."
+
+"You have spoken with him, then, yourself?" asked Goethe.
+
+"Yes, eight years ago; General von Siedlitz procured me an audience.
+The king was very gracious, and among other things, asked me about
+my life; and as I explained to him my poverty and want, he most
+kindly promised to help me." [Footnote: This interview which Frau
+Karschin had with the king is found in "Anecdotes and Traits of
+Character of Frederick the Great." vol. ii., p. 72.]
+
+"And did he not fulfil his promise?"
+
+"No, had it been given to the least of the French writers he would
+have kept it, but to a German poet it was not worth while. What is a
+native poet to the great German king? A phantom that he knows not,
+and believes not. As great as he is, the king showed himself very
+small to me. I sang him as a poetess and he bestowed a pittance upon
+me as one would to a beggar in tatters by the wayside."
+
+"Is it really true, upon your supplication--"
+
+"Sent me two thalers! Yes, that is indeed true, and I see by your
+smile that you know it, and know also that I returned it to him. I
+had rather die with hunger than take a beggar's penny. But let me
+relate to you what happened two weeks since. I had borne patiently
+the affair of the two thalers, and forgotten it. I am more
+comfortable now; the booksellers pay me for my songs and poems very
+well, and a number of patrons and friends, at whose head is the
+Prince of Prussia, give me a small pension, from which I can at
+least live--though poorly. One of my patrons sent me a strip of land
+on the Spree not far from the Hercules Bridge, where I would gladly
+build me a little house, at last to have a sure abiding-place where
+I could retire--that would be a refuge against all the troubles and
+sorrows of life. As I thought it over, the old confidence and
+imperishable love for the great king rose again within me, and as I
+esteemed him I always hoped for the fulfilment of his promise. I
+applied to him again, and begged him to do for me what he had
+granted to so many cobblers and tailors, as the king gives building-
+money to help those who will build. All the houses of the
+Gensdarmen-markt are built by royal aid, and sometimes the king
+designs the facades, as he did for the butcher Kuhn's great house;
+and sent him a design to ornament the frieze of ninety-nine, sheeps'
+heads, only ninety-nine, for he said the butcher himself was the one
+hundredth. The butcher remonstrated, but he was obliged to keep
+them, if he would have the building-money."
+
+"Really," cried Goethe, laughing, "the king is an ingenious and
+extraordinary man in every thing, and no one is like him."
+
+"No one is like him, and no one would have treated me as he did. I
+addressed to him a poem, begging him with true inspiration and
+emotion to let a German poetess find favor in his sight--and that he
+would be for me a Maecenas, if I were not a Horace. My heart bled
+with sorrow, that I must so beg and pray, and my tears wet the paper
+upon which I indited my begging, rhyming petition. How much money do
+you think the great king sent me for my house? Think of the smallest
+sum."
+
+"If it was small, yet for building-money he would send you at least
+two hundred thalers."
+
+The poetess burst into a scornful laugh. "He sent me three thalers!
+The great Frederick sent me three thalers to build a house!"
+
+"What did you do? Did you take them?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, proudly, "and I will leave them as a legacy to
+my daughter, as an historical souvenir for succeeding generations,
+who will relate the benevolence of the German king for the German
+poetess. I sent the king a receipt--I will read it to you.
+
+'His majesty commanded, Instead of building-money, To send me three
+thalers. The order was exactly, Promptly fulfilled. I am indebted
+for thanks, But for three thalers can No joiner in Berlin My coffin
+make. Otherwise to-morrow I would order Such a house without horror
+Where worms feast, And, feasting, quarrel Over the lean, care-worn
+Old woman's remains That the king let sigh away.' [Footnote: See
+"Life and Poems of Louisa Karschin," edited by her daughter.]
+
+"Why do you not laugh?" said Frau Karschin, raising her flashing
+eyes to Goethe, who sat looking down earnestly and quietly before
+her.
+
+"I cannot," he gently answered. "Your poem makes me sad; it recalls
+the keen sorrow of a poet's existence, the oft-repeated struggle
+between Ideality and Reality. The blessed of the gods must humble
+themselves; though they may raise their heads to heaven, their feet
+must still rest upon earth; and to find their way upon it, and walk
+humbly therein, they must again lower their inspired heads."
+
+"Oh, that makes me feel better," cried Karschin, with tears in her
+eyes; "that is balsam for my wounds. You are a great poet, Goethe, I
+feel it to be so. You are a great man, for your heart is good and
+filled with pity. How unjustly they call you cold and proud! Only be
+a little more yielding, and call upon the Berlin poets and writers.
+You can imagine that the news of your arrival ran like wild-fire
+through the town. Nicolai, Rammler, Engel, Mendelssohn, and all the
+other distinguished gentlemen have stayed at home like badgers in
+their kennels, watching for you, so as not to miss your visit. At
+last they became desperate, and scolded furiously over your
+arrogance and pride in thinking yourself better than they. Why have
+you not called upon them?"
+
+There was a loud knocking at the door, and the young man with his
+album entered, almost breathless. "Here I am," said he, "I came
+directly from Professor Rammler here, as I promised you."
+
+"You saw him, then? Has he written something for you?"
+
+"Yes, I saw him, and he granted my request."
+
+"And abused me, did he not, with his nose turned up? You must know,
+Goethe, that Professor Rammler despises my poems, because I am not
+so learned in Greek and Roman mythology as he is. Now tell me, my
+young friend, what did he say about me?"
+
+"I promised you, upon my word of honor, to tell you every thing, but
+I hope you will release me from the promise." sighed the young man.
+
+"No, that I will not. Much more, upon the strength of your word of
+honor, I desire it. You promised, word for word, to relate it to
+me."
+
+"If it must be, then, let it be. I went at once to Professor
+Rammler's. He asked me immediately if I had not been here."
+
+"Just as I asked you," laughed Karschin.
+
+"I affirmed it, saying that you showed me his house. Upon which he
+asked, 'Did she say any thing against me? She is accustomed to do it
+before strangers, like all old women.' He then turned over my album,
+and as he saw the lines you wrote he reddened, and striking the
+book--'I see it, she knew she had said something about me. She tells
+every stranger that I think she is censorious. What she has written
+is aimed at me.' Upon that he wrote some lines opposite yours, shut
+the book, and handed it to me. I have not even had the time to read
+them."
+
+"Read them now, quickly."
+
+"'He who slanders and listens to slander, let him be punished. She
+may be hung by the tongue, and he by the ears.'" [Footnote: This
+scene took place literally, and may be found in "Celebrated German
+Authors," vol. II., p. 340.]
+
+"That is shameful--that is mean!" said Frau Karschin, while Goethe
+re-read the cutting epigram. "That is just like Rammler; his tongue
+is like a two-edged sword for every one but himself, and he fans his
+own glories, and does not know that he is a fool. Frederick the
+Great himself called him so. One of his generals called his
+attention to him, upon which Frederick turned his horse, riding
+directly up to him, asking, 'Is this the distinguished Rammler?'
+'Yes, your majesty, I am he,' the little professor proudly bowed.
+'You are a fool!' called out Frederick, very loud, and rode away, as
+all around the 'Great Rammler' laughed and sneered. There are many
+such stories. Shall I tell you how Lessing teased him?"
+
+"No, dear woman, tell me nothing more. I perceive your Berlin
+writers and poets are a malicious, contentious set of people. I may
+well fear you, and shall be glad to escape unharmed. Think kindly of
+me, and have pity upon me; if the others are too severe, raise your
+dear hand and hold back the scourge that it may not fall upon poor
+Wolfgang Goethe. Adieu, dear Frau Karschin."
+
+Goethe bowed, and hastened down into the street. "With the authors
+and poets of Berlin I wish nothing more to do, but with the
+philosophers I may be more fortunate, and with them find the wisdom
+and forbearance which fail the poets."
+
+Goethe bent his steps to Spandauer Street, in which the merchant and
+philosopher Moses Mendelssohn lived; hastened up the stairs, and
+knocked, which was answered by an old servant, to whom Goethe
+announced himself. The servant disappeared, and the poet stood in
+the little, narrow corridor, smilingly looking to the study-door,
+and waiting for the "gates of wisdom" to open and let the worldling
+enter the temple of philosophy.
+
+The crooked little man, the great philosopher, Moses, son of
+Mendelssohn, stood behind the door, turning over in his mind whether
+he would receive Goethe or not. "Why should I? The proud secretary
+of legation has already been in Berlin eight days, and wishes to
+prove to me that he cares little for Berlin philosophers. My noble
+friend, the great Lessing, cannot abide 'Gotz von Berlichingen;' and
+Nicolai, Rammler, and Engel are the bitter opponents, the very
+antipodes of the rare genius and secretary of legation from Weimar.
+If he wishes to see me, why did he come so late, so--"
+
+"Herr Goethe is waiting--shall he enter?" asked the servant.
+
+The philosopher raised his head. "No," cried he, loudly. "No! tell
+him you were mistaken. I am not at home."
+
+The old servant looked quite frightened at his master--the first
+time he had heard an untruth from him. "What shall I say, sir?"
+
+"Say no," cried Moses, very excited and ill-humored. "Say that I am
+not at home--that I am out."
+
+With a determined, defiant manner the philosopher seated himself to
+work upon his new book, "Jerusalem," saying to himself, "I am right
+to send him away; he waited too long, is too late." [Footnote: From
+Ludwig Tieck I learned this anecdote, and he assured me that Moses
+Mendelssohn told it to him.--See "Goethe in Berlin, Leaves of
+Memory," p. 6.--The Authoress.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+FAREWELL TO BERLIN.
+
+
+"What is the matter, my dear Wolf?" cried the duke, as Goethe
+returned from his visits. "What mean those shadows upon your brow?
+Have the cursed beaux-esprits in Berlin annoyed and tortured you?"
+
+"No, duke, I--" and suddenly stopping, he burst into a loud ringing
+laugh, and sprang about the room, bounding up and down, shouting,
+"Hurrah! hurrah! Long live the philosophers, vivat the
+philosophers!"
+
+"They shall live--live--live,'' shouted the duke!
+
+"Vivat the philosophers! hurrah! To the May-sports upon the
+Blockberg they ride upon a little ass with golden horns--with
+Pharisaical mien, praying with their eyes, 'I thank Thee, O Lord,
+that I am a philosopher, that I am not as the world's children,
+vain, proud, and arrogant.' Hey, good Carl Augustus, today a great
+revelation has been made known to me by a philosopher. Wisdom flowed
+from his mouth. All the spiders in their gray, self-woven nets,
+whispered and sang in his corridor, 'We weave at the fountain of
+life, we spin the web of time.' The little mice crept out from the
+corners, whispering, Hallelujah! Here lives the great philosopher
+Moses, who has devoured wisdom, and is unknowing of earthly
+vanities. Oh! the mice and the spiders waltz together upon the
+threshold of the great philosopher. Hey, ha! a waltz we will dance!"
+
+Goethe caught the duke with both arms around the waist, and tore
+around in a giddy whirl, both laughing, both shrieking. Wolfshund,
+the duke's dog, asleep in the corner, sprang up howling and barking
+at their wild bounds and goat-like springs, and joined the dancers.
+As Goethe felt the ribbon which confined his cue give way, he shook
+wildly his curly, powdered hair and it fell in mad confusion. Both
+he and the duke now sank exhausted to the floor, panting and
+laughing.
+
+"Heaven be praised, Wolf," said the duke, "the must has once more
+fermented, and sprung a few of the hoops of dignity?"
+
+"Yes," answered Goethe, who suddenly assumed a grave, serious mien,
+"the must has fermented, and I trust a fine wine will clear itself
+from it."
+
+"Can you not set off, Wolf?" asked the duke, springing up. "Have you
+had sufficient of the Berliners?"
+
+"I have done with them," replied Goethe, "not only with the
+Berliners, but it may be with all the rest of humanity. I feel, my
+duke, that the bloom of confidence, candor, and self-sacrificing
+love fades daily; only for you, and the friend whom I love, is there
+still attraction and flagrancy. Oh! you dear ones, be charitable,
+and do not consent that they fade for you. Let the goodness which I
+read in your eyes, my dear Carl, and the sunny rays of friendship
+strengthen the poor little blossom, that it does not entirely fade
+and wither away!" With passionate earnestness he threw his arms
+around the duke, pressing him to his bosom.
+
+"Oh! Wolf, my dear Wolf, you have a child's heart and a poet's soul.
+Are you faint-hearted and dispirited? Do you not know that you are
+the sun which brings forth the flowers for us, and shines for us
+all? Let no clouds overshadow you, Wolf! Let your fresh, youthful
+vigor, and divine brilliancy, penetrate them. In the thick, sandy
+atmosphere of Berlin I confess the sun itself loses its force and
+brightness! Come! let us be off. Our steeds stamp with impatience."
+The duke drew his friend from the room and joyfully they sprang down
+the stairs to the carriage, the great dog following, howling and
+barking after them. "Forward, then, forward! Blow, postilion, blow!
+A gay little air! Let it peal through the streets, a farewell song!
+Blow, postilion, blow! and I will moisten your throat at the gates
+with the thin, white stuff, which you have the boldness to call
+beer." The postilion laughed for joy, and the German song resounded
+in quivering tones--" Three riders rode out of the gate." He blew so
+long and loudly, that the dog set up a mournful howl, and amid the
+peals of the postilion, and the distressed cry of Wolfshund, they
+drove through the long, hot streets of Berlin, through the Leipsic
+Gate, and the suburbs with their small, low houses. The wagon-wheels
+sank to the spokes in the loose, yellow sand of the hill they soon
+mounted, and, arriving at the top of which, the postilion stopped to
+let his horses take breath, and turned to remind his aristocratic
+passengers that this was their last view of the city.
+
+"And will be seen no more," repeated the duke. "Come, let us take a
+farewell look at Berlin, Wolf!" and away they sprang without waiting
+for the footman to descend, and waded through the sand to a rising
+in the fallow fields. There they stood, arm in arm, and viewed the
+town with its towers and chimneys, houses, barracks, and palaces
+stretched at their feet. A thick, gray, cloud of vapor and smoke
+hovered over it, and veiled the horizon in dust and fog. "Farewell,
+Berlin, you city of arrogance and conceit!" cried the duke,
+joyfully. "I shake your dust from my feet, and strew the sand of
+your fields over every souvenir of you in memory," and suiting the
+action to his words, he tossed a handful of it in the air.
+
+"Farewell, Muses and Graces of sand and dust!" cried Goethe, as his
+fiery eye flashed far out over the fog-enveloped roofs. "Farewell,
+Berlin, void of nature and without verdure! the abode of poetic art,
+but not of poesy. You Babylon of wisdom and philosophy, I have seen
+you with your painted cheeks and coquettish smile, your voluptuous
+form and seductive charms. You shall never ensnare me with your
+deceitful beauty, and suck the marrow from my bones, or the
+consciousness of pure humanity from my soul. Beautiful may you be to
+enslaved intellects, but to the free, they turn their backs to you
+and thrice strew ashes on your head. Farewell, Berlin, may I never
+see you again!" [Goethe, in fact, never visited Berlin again, though
+he was often invited there, particularly when the new theatre was
+opened, with a poetic prologue written by himself. They inaugurated
+the festivity with Goethe's "Iphigenia," the first representation,
+and Prince Radzwill urgently invited the poet, through Count Bruhl,
+to visit Berlin at this time, and reside in his palace. But Goethe
+refused; he was seventy-two years old (1826), and excused himself on
+account of his age.] Goethe stooped and threw a handful of sand in
+the air.
+
+The postilion, tired of standing in the burning sun, blew loudly the
+air of the soldier's song: "Now, adieu, Louisa, wipe your face,
+every ball does not hit." Mournfully the melody sounded in the
+stillness, like accusing spirits who wept the insult of the prince
+and the poet.
+
+"Now, on to our dear Weimar, Wolf!" The carriage rolled down the
+sandy hill, and Berlin disappeared to the travellers, lost in dreamy
+thought. Slowly they advanced, in spite of relays and fresh horses
+at every station. Night spread out her starry mantle over the world,
+and the sleepers who rested from the burdens and cares of the day.
+Goethe alone was wakeful and vigilant. With his beautiful eyes, as
+brilliant as fallen stars, uplifted to heaven, to God, his manly
+bosom heaving with noble thoughts and glorious aspirations, he
+reviewed the past, and recalled with joy that he had accomplished
+much and well. He peered into the future, and promised himself to do
+more and better. "Yes, I will," whispered he softly, pointing to the
+stars; "so high as possible shall the pyramid of my being rise. To
+that I will constantly bend my thoughts, never forgetting it, for I
+dare not tarry; with the years already on my head, fate may arrest
+my steps, and the tower of Babylon remain unfinished. At least they
+must acknowledge the edifice was boldly designed, and if I live, God
+willing, it shall rise."
+
+
+
+
+BOOK III.
+
+STORM AND PRESSURE
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE KING AND THE AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT.
+
+
+Frederick commenced the campaign against the house of Hapsburg with
+all the energy and bold courage of former days. The diplomats had
+once more been permitted to seek the arts of negotiation, and, these
+having failed, the king advanced rapidly, and entered Bohemia with
+his advance-guard. The imperial army, informed of the approach of
+the enemy, retired hurriedly to their intrenchments at Koeniggratz,
+beyond the Elbe, without a decisive battle. In the skirmishes at the
+outposts the Prussians had been victorious. On the opposite shore of
+the Elbe, at Welsdorf, the king took up his headquarters. Why did he
+not pursue his bold run of victory? Why did he not surprise the
+imperial army, which he knew was scattered, and not in a position to
+resist the strength of the Prussian forces? Moreover, the second
+column of the Prussian army, under the command of Prince Henry, had
+also entered Bohemia, and fortified a camp near Rimburg, having
+united with the Saxon allies, which caused the imperialists under
+Field-Marshal Loudon to seek protection beyond the Iser, near
+Muenchengratz and Yung-bunzlau. Why did the king then stop in the
+midst of his victorious career? He had advanced to the field with
+his fresh, youthful fire, a shining example to all. He was always
+mounted, shunning no danger, but taking part in the hardships and
+fatigue incident to the changing life of war; even showing himself
+personally active at the discovery of foraging-parties. Why did he
+suddenly hesitate and lie inactive in camp? Why did he not summon
+his generals and staff-officers to his quarters, instead of his
+Minister von Herzberg? Every one asked himself the question, and
+every one answered it differently.--Some said, "Because the Empress
+of Russia had raised objections to this war of German brothers;"
+others, that "the King of the French had offered to settle the
+quarrel as intermediator." A third said, the "empress-queen, Maria
+Theresa, was terrified at the rapid advance of the Prussians, and
+had immediately commenced negotiations for peace."
+
+While the wise politicians of Germany and all Europe reand pondered,
+Frederick tarried quietly in his peasant-house, in which he had
+taken up his quarters, and which had been arranged very comfortably
+with carpets, camp-stools, and curtains. He sat in his cabinet upon
+the high, leather-covered arm-chair, which had been brought for him
+from the neighboring parsonage. Alkmene lay upon his knee, and Diana
+at his feet. His countenance was pale, and betrayed fatigue, but his
+eye beamed with undimmed brilliancy, and around his mouth played an
+ironical smile. "Well, so matters stand; therefore, I have summoned
+you to Welsdorf," said Frederick to his minister, Von Herzberg. "The
+empress-queen is, above all things, a most tender mother. She is
+fearfully anxious, now that the dear young Emperor Joseph has left
+for the army, and will be exposed to the dangers of war. My good
+friends in Vienna inform me that my entrance into Bohemia created a
+sensation at the brilliant capital, and had so much alarmed the
+empress-queen, that she was seriously thinking of negotiating for
+peace. As I learned this from a reliable source, I halted and
+encamped, that the empress should know where to find me, and sent to
+summon you immediately. I had not been here three days, when the
+empress's ambassador, Baron von Thugut, appeared to make offers, and
+consult about an armistice of two weeks. I made known my conditions,
+and promised the empress, through her negotiator, that I would so
+calculate my movements that her majesty would have nothing to fear
+for her blood and her cherished emperor. [Footnote: The king's
+words.--See "Prussia, Frederick the Great," vol. iv., p. 102.]
+Voila, mon cher ministre, you know all now. If the Austrian diplomat
+comes a second time, you can negotiate with him."
+
+"Is your majesty also inclined to peace?" asked Herzberg.
+
+The king shrugged his shoulders. "When it can be arranged with
+honor, yes," said he. "I will acknowledge, Herzberg, to you, the
+campaign is hard for me. The old fellow of sixty-eight feels the
+burden of life, and would gladly rest quietly, and enjoy the last
+few years as philosopher and writer instead of soldier."
+
+"Your majesty has yet many years to live, God willing," cried
+Herzberg. "It would be a great misfortune to Prussia if she could
+not yet owe to her great king a long and happy reign."
+
+"Hem!" replied the king, "there are in Prussia very many who think
+otherwise, and wish me to the devil. But I have no intention of
+seeking monsieur so soon, for there are sufficient devilish deeds to
+endure in this earthly vale of sorrow to prepare for one a very
+decent purgatory, and give him hereafter well-founded hopes of
+heaven. Therefore I count upon remaining here below a while, and to
+knead with you this leaven of life that may yield to my subjects an
+eatable bread. You must help me, Herzberg, when I am the baker, to
+provide the flour for my people; you must be the associate to knead
+the bread. In order that the flour should not fail, and the bread
+give out, it may be necessary, if possible, to make peace."
+
+"Will your majesty be so gracious as to inform me what steps I may
+take, and upon what conditions?"
+
+"Take this paper," said the king, extending a written document to
+Herzberg. "I have therein expressed my wishes, and you can act
+accordingly. I am prepared for peace upon any terms which can be
+made with honor, and which do not frustrate the aim I have in view.
+You well know that this is the security of Germany against Austria's
+ambitious love of territorial aggrandizement! I cannot and I will
+not suffer that the house of Habsburg should strive for unjust
+possession in Germany, and appropriate Bavaria to herself while a
+lawful heir exists. I well know that I play the role of Don Quixote,
+and am about to fight for the rights of Germany as the Chevalier de
+la Mancha fought for his Dulcinea del Toboso. Mais, que voulez-vous,
+it is necessary for my fame and repose that I enter the arena once
+more against Austria to prove to her that I exist. I take this step
+on account of the prestige I have gained in the German empire, and
+which I should lose if I had not faced Austria in this Bavarian
+contest. And besides, it is agreeable to me to accustom my successor
+to the thunder of cannon, and witness his bearing on the field of
+battle."
+
+"He will certainly do honor to the heroic race of Hohenzollern,"
+answered Herzberg, bowing.
+
+A sudden flash from the king's fiery eyes met the calm pale face of
+Herzberg. "Mere words and flattery, which prove that you are not
+satisfied, Herzberg! Nay, nay, do not deny it; you do not like that
+I should tarry and treat, and set the pen in motion instead of the
+sword. You are a man of deeds, and if you had had your way, I should
+have already won a decisive battle, and be on the road to Vienna to
+besiege the empress in her citadel, and dictate an humiliating peace
+to her."
+
+"Your majesty, I can assure you--"
+
+"Well, well, do not quarrel!" interrupted the king; "do you suppose
+I cannot read your honest and obstinate face? Do you suppose I did
+not mean what I said? Acknowledge that I am right! confess it, I
+command you!"
+
+"If your majesty commands it, then I will acknowledge it. Yes, I did
+wish that your majesty had not empowered Baron von Thugut to return
+for further negotiations. It would have been well if your majesty
+had marched victorious to Vienna, to let the proud Hapsburgers see
+for once that Frederick of Prussia does not stand behind them, but
+at their side; that he has created a new order of things; that the
+old, mouldy, rotten statutes of the imperial sovereignty have fallen
+in the dust before Frederick the Great; that Germany must be newly
+mapped out, in order to give room near the old man Austria for young
+Prussia. Yes, your majesty, I could have wished that you had even
+been less generous, less noble toward the supercilious, insolent
+enemy, and have accepted no conditions but those of 'equality for
+Prussia with Austria in the German empire!'"
+
+"My dear sir, I am truly astonished at the vigor with which you
+express yourself; I am very glad to find you so enthusiastic," said
+Frederick, nodding to his minister; "but listen--I will confide to
+you that which I do not wish you to repeat: I am no longer, to my
+regret, what you so flatteringly call me, 'Frederick the Great,' but
+only 'Old Fritz.' Do you understand me? the latter is a deplorable,
+worn-out soldier, who no longer feels power or vigor. The lines of
+Boileau often recur to me on mounting my horse:
+
+'Unfortunate one, leave thy steed growing old in peace, For fear,
+that, panting and suddenly out of breath, In falling, he may not
+leave his master upon the arena!'
+
+It is the misery of life that man will grow old, and that the body,
+when worn and weary, will even subdue the spirit, and force her to
+fold her wings and suffer. I did not realize that it had gone so far
+with me, and I imagined that the winged soul could raise the old,
+decayed body. Therefore I risked, in spite of my lazy old age, to
+undertake this war, for I recognized it as a holy duty to enter into
+it, for the honor and justice of our country, and prove to the
+Emperor of Germany that he could not manage and rule at his will in
+the German empire. I 1ong not for the honor of new laurels, but I
+should be satisfied, as father of my subjects, to gain a civil
+crown.
+
+There you have my creed. I have as sincerely confessed to you as my
+respectable cousin, the empress-queen, to her confessor; only I did
+not fall upon my knees to you, and you do not as the said confessor,
+betray me to the Holy Father at Rome."
+
+"Your majesty well knows that every word which you have the grace to
+confide to me, is engraved upon my inmost soul, and that no power
+upon earth could force me to reveal it."
+
+"I know that you are a true and zealous servant of your king and
+country," said Frederick. "Once more I say to you, other than an
+honorable peace I will not make; and if empress-queen does not
+accept the abandonment of Bavaria as the basis of peace, then I must
+conquer my aversion to war, and the sword must arrange what the pen
+has failed to do. And now, passons ladessus! Until Thugut arrives,
+let us speak of other things. I have been tolerably industrious, and
+have improved the leisure of camp-life as much as possible. I have
+written a panegyric upon Voltaire, and when it is revised and
+corrected you shall arrange an anniversary in memoriam, at the
+Berlin Academy, and read my eulogy."
+
+"All Germany and all Europe will be surprised at the magnanimity of
+the royal mind which could occupy itself in the camp with the muse,
+and erect an imperishable monument to the man who witnessed such
+ingratitude and baseness to his benefactor and protector."
+
+"Vous allez trop vite, mon cher; vraiment, trop vite," cried
+Frederick, ardently. "It is true Voltaire was a miserable fellow,
+but he was a great poet. He returned meanness and ingratitude to me
+for the many kindnesses I showed to him, for I treated him more like
+a friend than a king. Voltaire was my benefactor, in so far that I
+owed to him the most agreeable and elevating hours of my youth, In
+memory of these hours I have written this eulogy. It is not worthy
+of particular mention, and the Academie Francaise will doubtless
+severely criticise my knowledge of their language. But it is
+impossible to write well, one moment in camp and another on the
+march. If it is unworthy of him whom it was intended to celebrate, I
+have at least availed myself of the freedom of the pen, and will
+cause to be publicly read in Berlin what one dares not whisper in
+Paris." [Footnote: The king's own words.--"Posthumous Works," vol.
+xv., p. 109. This eulogy upon Voltaire, which the king wrote in
+camp, Herzberg read, in the November following, before the Academy.]
+
+"I shall be most happy to be the instrument to make known this
+generous expression of your majesty's good-will," remarked Herzberg,
+bowing.
+
+Frederick smiled, adding: "But with the other work which I have
+commenced, you are not quite satisfied. You are such an enthusiastic
+German, that you presume to assert that the intolerable German
+jargon is a beautiful and expressive language!"
+
+"And I abide by this decision, your majesty," zealously cried
+Herzberg. "The German language is euphonious, and prolific in ideas,
+and it is well capable of rivalling in brevity and clearness those
+of the ancients."
+
+"That you have already asserted, and I have contested it, and again
+I contest it to-day. Do not trouble me with your German language. It
+will only deserve notice when great poets, distinguished orators,
+and admirable historians, have given it their attention and
+corrected it, freeing it from such disgusting and effeminate phrases
+as now disfigure it, and cause one to use a mass of words to express
+a few ideas. At present it is only an accumulation of different
+dialects, which every division of the German empire thinks to speak
+the best, and of which twenty thousand can scarcely understand what
+the other twenty thousand are saying!" [Footnote: The king's own
+words.--See "Posthumous Works," vol. xv.]
+
+"Sire," cried Herzberg, with vehemence, "should a German king thus
+speak of his native tongue, at the same time that he takes the field
+to vindicate the honor of Germany, and submits to all the miseries
+and hardships of war? Your majesty cannot be in earnest, to despise
+our beautiful language."
+
+"I do not despise it; I only say that it must be reformed, and shorn
+of its excrescences. Until then we must use the French, which is to-
+day the language of the world, and in which one can render all the
+master-works of the Greeks and the Latins, with the same
+versatility, delicacy, and subtlety, as the original. You pretend
+that one can well read Tacitus in a German translation, but I do not
+think the language capable of rendering the Latin authors with the
+same brevity as the French."
+
+"Sire, to my joy, I can give you proof to the contrary. a Berlin
+savant, Conrector Moritz, at my request, has translated a few
+chapters of the fourteenth book of the 'Annals of Tacitus,' word for
+word, most faithfully into German. He has written it in two columns,
+the translation at the side of the original. I have taken the
+liberty to bring this work with me and you will see how exactly, and
+with what brevity, Latin authors can be rendered into German, and
+that there are young learned men who have seized the spirit of our
+language and know how to use it with grace and skill."
+
+"Indeed, give it to me," cried the king, zealously. "I am truly
+curious to admire the German linguist's work who has so boldly
+undertaken to translate Tacitus."
+
+"Sire," said Herzberg, raising his eyes knowingly, with a mild,
+imploring expression to the king's face--" sire, I join a request
+with this translation."
+
+"What is it? I am very curious about a petition from you, it is so
+seldom that you proffer one."
+
+"Your majesty, my request concerns the translator of this very
+chapter of Tacitus. He is Conrector Moritz, attached to the Gray
+Cloister in Berlin--an unusually gifted young man, who has
+undoubtedly a brilliant future before him. He has already written
+many eminent works. The Director Gedicke recommended him to me as a
+most distinguished, scholarly person, and I have learned to know and
+appreciate the young man by this means."
+
+"I see it," nodded the king. "You speak of him with great
+enthusiasm, and as what you so warmly recommend is generally able
+and well qualified, I begin to be interested in this Herr Moritz.
+When I return to Berlin--and Heaven grant that it may be soon!--I
+will at once empower you to present this luminary. Are you
+satisfied?"
+
+"Sire, dare I ask still more? I would beg your majesty to grant this
+young man an audience at once."
+
+"How, at once! Is this phoenix here, who so interests my Minister
+Herzberg? Where is he from, and what does he wish?"
+
+"He is from Berlin; I met him making the journey on foot. He sat
+upon a stone, by the wayside, eating a piece of bread, with a
+glowing face, and so absorbed talking to himself in Latin that he
+heard not the creaking of my carriage through the sand. I recognized
+him immediately, and called him by name. He turned, perfectly
+unembarrassed and not at all ashamed to have been discovered in such
+an humble and poor position."
+
+"That is to say, he is a good comedian," said the king. "He knew
+that you would drive past there, and placed himself expressly to
+call your attention to him."
+
+"I beg pardon, sire; Conrector Moritz could not have known that I
+would take this journey. You will recollect that the courier arrived
+at midnight with your majesty's commands, and two hours later I was
+on the road, and have since travelled day and night. As I met the
+young man only five miles from this place, he must have set out many
+days before I thought of leaving Berlin."
+
+"It is true," said the king, "it was a false suspicion. You invited
+him into your carriage, did you not?"
+
+"I did very naturally, sire, as he told me he was going to beg an
+audience of your majesty. At first he refused decidedly, as he
+wished to travel on foot, like the pilgrims to the pope at Rome."
+
+"An original, a truly original genius," cried the king.
+
+"He is so indeed, and is so called by all his friends."
+
+"Has he any friends?" asked the king, with an incredulous smile.
+
+"Yes, sire, many warm and sympathizing friends, who are much
+attached to him, and, on account of his distinguished and brilliant
+qualities, are willing to indulge his peculiarities."
+
+"Herzberg, you are charmed, and speak of this man as a young girl in
+love!"
+
+"Sire, if I were a young girl, I should certainly fall in love with
+this Moritz, for he is handsome."
+
+"Diable! I begin to fear this subject. You say he is handsome,
+learned, wise, and good, although he belongs to the airy, puffed-up
+Berliners. Did you let Herr Moritz wander on in his pilgrimage?"
+
+"No, sire, I persuaded him at last to accept a seat in my carriage,
+by explaining to him that your majesty might soon leave Welsdorf,
+and he would run the risk of not arriving in season. Upon no
+condition would he get inside, but climbed up behind, for, said he,
+with a firm, decided manner, 'I go to the king as a beggar, not as a
+distinguished gentleman.'"
+
+"Indeed it is an original," the king murmured to himself. "Do you
+know what the man wants?" he asked aloud.
+
+"No, your majesty; he said that his business concerned the happiness
+of two human beings, and that he could only open his heart to his
+God and his king."
+
+"Where is your protege?"
+
+"He stands outside, and it is my humble request that your majesty
+will grant him an audience, and permit me to call him."
+
+"It is granted, and--"
+
+Just at that moment the door opened, and the footman announced that
+the private secretary of his highness Prince von Galitzin had
+arrived, and most respectfully begged an audience.
+
+"It is he--it is the baron," said the king. "Tell your protege he
+must wait, and come again. Bid the Prince von Galitzin enter."
+
+As the Minister von Herzberg withdrew, the Baron von Thugut
+appeared, the extraordinary and secret ambassador of the Empress
+Maria Theresa.
+
+"Well, Herr Baron, you are already returned," said the king, as he
+scarcely nodded to the profoundly respectful bows of the ambassador.
+"I infer, therefore, that your instructions are not from the
+empress, but from the co-regent, the Emperor Joseph, who has betaken
+himself to the Austrian camp."
+
+"Sire," answered Thugut, laconically, "I have driven day and night,
+and have received my instructions directly from the empress."
+
+The king slowly shook his head, and an imperceptible smile played
+around his lips.
+
+"Does the young emperor approve of these instructions?"
+
+"Sire, his majesty, the emperor, is only the co-regent," answered
+Thugut, hastily. "It is not therefore necessary, that my sovereign
+should make her decisions dependent upon her son's concordance."
+
+"The empress will negotiate for peace," said the king to himself,
+"but the emperor desires to win laurels in the war, and will try to
+cut off the negotiations of his mother by a coup de main. One must
+be on his guard!"
+
+Just then the door opened and Herzberg returned.
+
+"You perceive I expected you, Baron von Thugut," said the king, "and
+I ordered here my minister of state, Herr von Herzberg. This is the
+Baron von Thugut, my dear minister, the ambassador of the empress-
+queen, who carries in his pocket peace or war, as it may be."
+
+"Sire, I must protest against being so important a personage, as
+peace and war alone depend upon your majesty. It alone depends upon
+the lofty King of Prussia whether he will give peace and
+tranquillity to Germany, or suffer the guilt of permitting the
+bloody scourge of civil war again to tear in pieces the unhappy
+German nation."
+
+"That sounds very sentimental," cried the king, smiling. "The Baron
+von Thugut will appeal to my heart, when we have only to do with the
+head. Austria wishes to be the head of Germany, and as such would
+devour one German state after another, as a very palatable morsel.
+But if you will be the head, Monsieur le Baron, you cannot represent
+the stomach also, for, as I have been told, it only exists in those
+soft animals of the sea whose head is in their stomach, and which
+think and digest at the same time. Austria does not belong to this
+class, but has rather a very hard and impenetrable shell. We cannot
+let her devour as stomach what as the head she has chosen as booty.
+That the electorate of Bavaria is not to be devoured, is the
+necessary and fundamental preliminary upon which the temple of peace
+may be erected. If you, or rather the empress-queen, agree to it,
+the negotiations can be concluded by you two gentlemen. But if you
+think to erect a temple of peace upon any other basis, your
+propositions will be in vain. I have not taken the field to make
+conquests, but to protect the rights of a German prince, and not
+suffer others to appropriate a German state. I know, as you have
+said, that war is a bloody scourge for the nation; but, sir, we will
+not look at it in a sentimental light, and talk of civil war, when
+Austria herself compels us to take the field. Or, perhaps, you
+imagine to prove to my good Pomeranians, Markers, and my other
+German states, that the Croatians, Pandurians, Hungarians,
+Wallachians, Italians, and Polanders, are our German brothers, which
+imperial Austria opposes to us. I think this brotherhood may be
+traced to our common ancestor, Adam, and in this sense all wars are
+indeed civil wars. In any case war is a scourge for man, and I am
+convinced that the empress-queen would just as willingly spare her
+Croatians, Pandurians, Wallachians, and Galicians, as I all my
+German subjects collectively."
+
+"Also your majesty's Polish subjects, as may be expected," added
+Baron yon Thugut.
+
+"My Polish subjects are the minimum portion, and are about in
+proportion to the German population as in imperial Austria the
+German is to the foreign. But enough of this; if I do not recognize
+this as a civil war, it is indeed a great misfortune. I would do
+every thing to avoid it--every thing compatible with the honor and
+glory of my house, as well as that of Germany in general. Therefore
+let us know the Views of the empress-queen!"
+
+"Sire," answered Von Thugut, as he slowly untied and unfolded the
+documents, "I beg permission to read aloud to your majesty the acts
+relative to these points."
+
+"No, baron," answered the king quickly, "the more minute details
+give to my minister; I wish only the contents in brief."
+
+"At your majesty's command. The empress-queen declares herself ready
+to renounce the concluded treaty of inheritance to the succession of
+Bavaria at the death of Elector Charles Theodore; also to give up
+the district seized, if Prussia will promise to resign the
+succession of the Margraves of Anspach and Baireuth, and let them
+remain independent principalities, governed by self-dependent
+sovereigns."
+
+"That means, that Austria, who will unjustly aggrandize herself by
+Bavaria, will deprive Prussia of a lawful inheritance!" cried the
+king, his eyes flashing anger. "I will not heed the after-cause, but
+I wish to satisfactorily understand the first part of the
+proposition, that Austria will cede her pretensions to Bavaria."
+
+"Sire, upon conditions only which are sufficient for the honor, the
+wishes, and necessities of my lofty mistress."
+
+"You hear, my dear Herzberg," said the king, smiling, and turning to
+his minister, "c'est tout comme chez nous. It will now be your task
+to find out these conditions, which too closely affect the honor of
+one or the other. For this purpose you will find the adjacent
+Cloister Braunau more convenient than my poor cabin. At the
+conferences of diplomats much time is consumed, while we military
+people have little time to spare. I shall move on with my army."
+
+"How, then! will your majesty break up here?" cried Thugut, with
+evident surprise.
+
+The king smiled. "Yes, I shall advance, as my remaining might be
+construed equal to a retreat. The arts of diplomacy may drag on
+until the imperialists have assembled all their foreign subjects to
+the so-called civil war. Then hasten the negotiations, Baron yon
+Thugut, for every day of diplomatic peace is one day more of
+foraging war, and I know not that you count the Bohemians in the
+German brotherhood, to whom the calamity of war is ruinous. You have
+now to deal with the Baron yon Thugut, my dear Herzberg, and I hope
+the baron will accept some diplomatic campaigns with you in Cloister
+Braunau."
+
+"Sire, I accept, and if your majesty will dismiss me, I will go at
+once to the cloister," answered Baron yon Thugut, whose manner had
+become graver and more serious since the king's announcement of the
+intended advance.
+
+"You are at liberty to withdraw. The good and hospitable monks have
+already been apprised of your arrival by an express courier, and
+have doubtless a good supper and a soft bed awaiting you."
+
+"Had your majesty the grace to be convinced of my return?" asked
+Thugut.
+
+"I was convinced of the tender heart of the empress-queen, and that
+she would graciously try once more, in her Christian mercy, to
+convert such an old barbarian and heretic as I am. Go now to the
+cloister, and when I pass by in the morning, with my army, I will
+not fail to have them play a pious air for the edification of the
+diplomats--such as, 'My soul, like the young deer, cries unto Thee,'
+or, 'Oh, master, I am thy old dog,' or some such heavenly song to
+excite the diplomats to pious thoughts, and therewith I commend you
+to God's care, Baron yon Thugut."
+
+The king charged Herr yon Herzberg to play the role of grand-
+chamberlain, and accompany the ambassador to his carriage, smiling,
+and slightly nodding a farewell.
+
+The baron was on the point of leaving, when the king called to him.
+
+"Had your majesty the grace to call me?" asked Thugut, hastily
+turning.
+
+"Yes!" answered Frederick, smiling, and pointing to the string which
+had served to bind the baron's papers. "You have forgotten
+something, my lord, and I do not like to enrich myself with others'
+property." [Footnote: Historical. The king's words.--See Hormayr.]
+
+Baron von Thugut took this last well-aimed stab of his royal
+opponent somewhat embarrassed, and hastened to pick up the string,
+and withdraw.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+THE KING AND THE LOVER.
+
+
+The king smiled, glancing at the retreating figure of the baron, and
+approached the window to peep through the little green glass panes
+to see him as he passed by.
+
+"A sly fox," said he, smiling, "but I will prove to him that we
+understand fox-hunting, and are not deceived by cunning feints."
+
+"Will your majesty really break up to-day?" asked Von Herzberg, upon
+returning.
+
+"Yes, my dear minister. That is to say, I do not wish to, but I
+must, in order to give the negotiations for peace a war-like
+character. The enemy asks for delay to finish their preparations for
+war--not peace. The negotiations for the latter emanate from the
+empress, but the conditions concerning Anspach come from the
+emperor. It is the Eris-apple, which he casts upon the table, by
+which his imperial mother and I would gladly smoke the pipe of
+peace. It is incumbent upon you, Herzberg, to negotiate for peace,
+while I pick up the apple and balance it a little upon the point of
+my sword. I shall leave early to-morrow, but I would speak with you
+before I set out. You must be weary with the journey, so rest awhile
+now, then dine with me, and afterward go to the conference."
+
+"Sire, will you not receive my protege, Conrector Moritz?"
+
+"Did you not say that he begged for a secret audience?"
+
+"Yes, sire, he has for this purpose travelled the long distance from
+Berlin, and I assure your majesty, upon my word of honor, that I
+have not the least suspicion what his petition may be."
+
+"Eh bien, say to your protege that I grant him the sought-for
+interview on your account, Herzberg. You are such a curious fellow--
+you are always petitioning for others instead of yourself, and the
+benefits which you ought to receive go to them. Let Moritz enter,
+and then try to sleep a little, that you may be wide awake to confer
+with Baron von Thugut."
+
+Minister von Herzberg withdrew, and immediately the pale, earnest
+face of Conrector Philip Moritz appeared in the royal presence.
+
+The king regarded him with a prolonged and searching glance, the
+noble, resolute face of whom was pallid with deep grief, but from
+whose eyes there beamed courageous energy. "Are you the translator
+of the chapters from Tacitus, which my Minister Herzberg handed me?"
+asked the king, after a pause.
+
+"Yes, sire," gently answered Moritz.
+
+"I am told that it is ably done," continued his majesty, still
+attentively observing him. "You will acknowledge that it is
+exceedingly difficult to render the concise style of Tacitus into
+the prolix, long-winded German?"
+
+"Pardon me, sire," replied Moritz, whose youthful impetuosity could
+with difficulty be diverted from the real object of his pilgrimage.
+"Our language is by no means long-winded, and there is no difficulty
+in translating Latin authors into German, which equals any living
+tongue in beauty and sonorousness, and surpasses them all in depth
+of thought, power, and poesy."
+
+"Diable!" cried the king, smiling; "you speak like an incarnate
+German philologist, who confounds the sound of words with profound
+thought. You will acknowledge that until now our language has not
+been much known."
+
+"Sire," answered Moritz, "Martin Luther, in his translation of the
+Bible three hundred years since, employed hundreds of beautiful,
+expressive formations."
+
+"He is not only a learned man," said the king to himself, "but he
+seems an honorable one; and now, as I have proved his scholarly
+attainments, I must indulge his impatience." The king's penetrating
+glance softened, and his features changed their severe expression.
+"The Minister von Herzberg informed me that he found you by the
+roadside, and that you would journey hither on foot."
+
+"It is true, sire."
+
+"Why did you travel in that manner?"
+
+"Sire, I desired, as the poor, heavily-laden pilgrims of the middle
+ages, to make the pilgrimage to the Holy Father at Rome, who was the
+king of kings. Every step in advance seemed to them to lighten their
+burden and enhance their happiness. Your majesty is in our day what
+the pope was held to be in the middle ages, therefore I have
+wandered as a pilgrim to my king, who has the power to bind and to
+loose, and from whom I must not only implore personal happiness, but
+that also of a good and amiable young girl."
+
+"Ah! it concerns a love-affair. As I now look at you, I can
+understand that. You are young and passionate, and the maidens have
+eyes. How can I help you in such an adventure?"
+
+"Sire, by not granting a title to a certain person, or if it must be
+granted, annul the conditions attendant upon it."
+
+"I do not understand you," answered the king, harshly. "Speak not in
+riddles. What do you mean?"
+
+"General Werrig von Leuthen has addressed himself to you, sire,
+praying for the consent of your majesty to the marriage of his
+daughter with the banker Ebenstreit. Your majesty has consented, and
+added that Herr Ebenstreit shall take the name of his future father-
+in-law, and the marriage shall take place as soon as the title of
+nobility has been made out."
+
+The king nodded. "For which the new-made nobleman has to pay a
+hundred louis d'ors to the Invalids at Berlin. But what is that to
+you? And what connection has Herr Ebenstreit's title to do with
+Conrector Moritz?"
+
+Moritz's face brightened, and, deeply moved, he answered: "Sire, I
+love the daughter of General von Leuthen, and she returns my love.
+By not ennobling Ebenstreit, it lies in your power, most gracious
+majesty, to make two persons the most blessed of God's creatures,
+who desire nothing more than to wander hand in hand through life,
+loving and trusting each other."
+
+"Is that all?" asked the king, with a searching glance.
+
+Moritz quailed beneath it, and cast down his eyes. "No!" he replied.
+"As I now stand in the presence of your majesty, I am sensible of
+the boldness of my undertaking, and words fail me to express what is
+burning in my soul. Oh! sire, I only know that we love each other,
+and that this love is the first sunbeam which has fallen upon my
+gloomy and thorny path of life, and awakened in my lonely heart all
+the bloom of feeling. You smile, and your great spirit may well mock
+the poor human being who thinks of personal happiness, when for an
+idea merely thousands are killed upon the field of battle. My life,
+sire, has been a great combat, in which I have striven with all the
+demons escaped from Pandora's box. I have grown up amid privations
+and need. I have lived and suffered, until God recompensed my
+joyless, toiling, hungered existence by this reciprocated love,
+which is a beautiful ornament to my life, and is life itself, and to
+renounce it would be to renounce life. I am young, sire, and I long
+for the unknown paradise of earthly happiness, which I have never
+entered until now, and which I can only attain led by the hand of my
+beloved. I yearn just once, as other privileged men, to bask in the
+sunshine of happiness a long, beautiful summer day, and then at the
+golden sunset to sink upon my knees and cry, 'I thank Thee, O God,
+that in Thy goodness I have recognized Thy sublimity, and that Thou
+hast revealed thy glory to me.' All this appears of little
+importance to your majesty, for the heart of a king is not like that
+of other men, and the personal happiness of individuals appears a
+matter of little account to him who thinks and works for the good of
+an entire nation. But the fly, sire, which is sunning itself upon
+the plumes of the helmet of a victorious king, has its right to
+happiness, for God created it with the same care and love that He
+created the noblest of His creatures--man! and it would be cruel to
+kill it without necessity. Sire, I do not extol myself. I know that
+in your eyes I am no more than the fly upon your helmet, but I only
+implore you to grant me my life, for God has given it to me."
+
+"You mean by this that I shall forbid General von Leuthen to marry
+his daughter to the rich man who seeks her, and to which marriage,
+understand me well, I have already given my consent."
+
+"Sire, I only know that this union drives not only me to despair,
+but one of the noblest and best of God's creatures. Fraulein von
+Leuthen does not love the bridegroom forced upon her; she detests
+him, and she has good reason to, for the banker Ebenstreit is a
+cold-hearted, purse-proud man, enfeebled by a voluptuous, vicious
+life, and seeks nothing nobler and more elevated in the young girl
+to whom he has offered his hand, than the title and noble name which
+she can procure for him. Your majesty, I implore not for myself, but
+for the daughter of a man who once had the good fortune to save your
+life in battle! Have pity upon her, and do not sacrifice her to an
+inconsolably hopeless life by the side of an unloved and detested
+husband!"
+
+The king slowly shook his head. "You forget that the general to whom
+I am indebted for this favor has begged my consent to this marriage,
+and that I have granted it."
+
+"Sire, I conjure yon to recall it! Upon my knees I implore you not
+to grant it! Do not make two people unhappy, who only beg of your
+majesty the permission to love and live with each other!" Moritz
+threw himself at the king's feet, praying with clasped hands, his
+face flushed with deep emotion, and his eyes dimmed with tears.
+
+"Rise!" commanded Frederick, "rise, do not kneel to me as to a God.
+I am a feeble mortal, subject to the same ills which threaten you
+and the whole human race. Rise, and answer me one question--are you
+rich?"
+
+"No," answered Moritz, proudly raising his head; "no, I am poor."
+
+"Do you know that Fraulein von Leuthen is poor? Her father is worse
+off than Job, for he is in debt."
+
+"If General von Leuthen's daughter were rich, or even moderately
+well off, I never would have presumed to address your majesty on the
+subject, for fear that you might misconstrue my intentions, and
+suppose that my love was inspired by self-interest. Fortunately,
+Marie possesses nothing but her noble, beautiful self. She leads a
+joyless existence under the severe discipline of her cold-hearted
+parents; and therefore I can truthfully say, that with me she will
+lose nothing, but gain what she has never known--a tranquil, happy
+life, protected by my love."
+
+"How much salary do you receive as teacher?"
+
+"Majesty, as conrector of the college attached to the Gray
+Monastery, three hundred and fifty dollars."
+
+"Do you expect to live upon that yourself, and support a family
+besides?"
+
+"Sire, I shall earn money in other ways, as I have already done. I
+shall write books. The publishers tell me that I am a favorite
+author, and they pay me well."
+
+"If on the morrow you should fall ill, your income would vanish, and
+your family and you would starve together. No! no! you are an
+idealist, you dream how life should be, and not as it is in truth! I
+have listened to you, thinking that you would present some forcible
+argument upon which to found your pretensions, but I hear only the
+ravings of a lover, who believes the world turns upon the axis of
+his happiness. Let me tell you that love is an ephemera, which
+merrily sports in the sunlight a few short hours, and dies at
+sunset. Should a king forfeit his word for such a short-lived bliss?
+Should he reward a man to whom he is indebted by depriving him of a
+rich son-in-law, who is agreeable to him, and substituting a poor
+one, from whom he can never hope to receive a comfortable
+maintenance? You young people are all alike. You think only of
+yourselves, and it is a matter of little consequence to you if the
+aged pine away and die, provided you build up happiness on their
+graves! I ask you, who have talked so much about your own wishes,
+and those of your beloved, where is it written that man must be
+happy, that there is a necessity to make him so? Do you suppose that
+I have ever been happy--who have a long, active life in
+retrospection? Mankind have taken good care that I should not sip
+this nectar of the gods, and have taught me early to renounce it.
+Life is not consumed in pleasure, but in toil, and I believe its
+only happiness consists in the fact that at last, when weary and
+worn, we will sink into the grave--to an eternal rest! Every human
+being must work according to his abilities, and in the position
+which Fate has assigned to him. To maintain this position, his honor
+is at stake--the best and most sacred gift confided to man. You will
+not desert it--not despair in life because your dream of bliss is
+not realized."
+
+"Sire," answered Moritz, with a cry of anguish, "it is no dream, but
+a reality!"
+
+"Happiness is only ideal," said the king, slowly shaking his head.
+"What we sigh for to-day, we curse on the morrow as a misfortune.
+Let this serve as a lesson to you. Toil on--you are a scholar; woo
+Science for your bride. Her charms will never fade. In youth as in
+old age she will attract you by her beauty and constancy--that which
+you cannot hope for from women."
+
+"Sire," asked Moritz, in deep dejection, "will you not grant the
+petition of my heart? Will you condemn this poor, innocent young
+girl who prays your majesty through me, to a long, joyless
+existence, to a daily-renewing sorrow?"
+
+The king shrugged his shoulders. "I have already said that happiness
+is imaginary; I might have added unhappiness also. General von
+Leuthen's daughter will accustom herself to the misfortune of being
+a rich man's wife, and finally will drive with a smiling face in her
+four-in-hand gilded carriage!"
+
+"Sire, I swear to you that you mistake this dear, noble-hearted
+young girl, you--"
+
+"Enough!" interrupted the king. "I have given my consent to General
+von Leuthen, and I cannot recall it. Moreover, the marriage of the
+daughter of my general with you would be a misalliance--ridiculous.
+In the republic of intellect and science, you may have a very high
+position, but in my earthly kingdom you hold too modest a one to
+presume to raise your eyes to a noble young lady. I regret that I
+can offer you no other consolation than to listen to reason, and be
+resigned. As we cannot bring down the moon to earth, we must content
+ourselves with a lamp to light up our small earthly abode. If this
+ever should fail you, then come to me and I will assist you. I
+cannot, to be sure, give you the moon, for that belongs as little to
+me as the bride of the rich Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen. One cannot
+give away that which one does not possess. Farewell! return to
+Berlin, and resign yourself bravely to your fate. Accustom yourself
+to the thought that in fourteen days Fraulein von Leuthen will
+become the wife of your wealthy rival. The wedding ceremony awaits
+only the papers of nobility, for which my order has already been
+forwarded to Berlin. I moreover propose to you not to return to the
+college at once, but travel for two weeks. I will be responsible for
+your absence, and provide you with the necessary means. Now tell me
+whether you accept my proposal?"
+
+"Thanks to your majesty, I cannot," answered Moritz, with calm
+dignity. "There is but one balm which my king could grant me. Money
+is not a plaster to soothe and heal a wounded heart. Sire, I beg you
+to dismiss me, for I will return at once to Berlin."
+
+"I hope that you have not the foolish idea to return on foot," said
+the king. "My courier will leave in an hour, and there are two
+places in the coupe, accept one of them."
+
+"Sire," said Moritz, gloomily, "I--" suddenly the words died on his
+lips, and his eyes beamed with an unnatural fire, which paled under
+the observing glance of the king. "I thank you," said Moritz,
+gasping, "I will accept it."
+
+The king nodded. "Au revoir, in Berlin! When I return after the
+campaign I will send for you. You will then have learned to forget
+your so-called misfortune, and smile at your pilgrimage!"
+
+"I cannot think so, sire."
+
+"I am convinced of it. Farewell."
+
+Moritz answered the royal salutation with a mute bow, and withdrew
+with drooping head and sorrowful heart. The king continued to regard
+him with an expression of deep sadness. "Ah!" he sighed, "how
+enviable are those who can still believe in love's illusion, and who
+have not awakened from their dream of bliss by sad experience or
+age! How long since I have banished these dreams--how long I--"
+
+The king ceased, his head sank back upon his chair, his large, fiery
+eyes, peering into the distance, as if he would re-people it with
+the memories of youth, with the delusions from which he had so long
+awakened. Those lovely, charming forms flitted before him one by one
+which had then captivated him: the beautiful Frau von Wrechem, his
+first love, and to whom he had vowed eternal constancy; another
+sweet, innocent face that suffered shame and degradation for him--
+"oh! Doris, Doris, dream of my youth, fly past!"--and now the face
+with the large eyes and energetic features, which turned so tenderly
+to him, that of his sister Frederika, who from affection to the
+crown prince had sacrificed herself to an unloved husband in order
+to reconcile the son with the father, and preserve for him the
+inheritance to the throne; still another calm and gentle face, with
+the expression of sorrowful resignation in the deep-blue eyes, that
+of his wife, who had so passionately loved him, and had faded away
+at his side unloved! All past--past. A new face arose, the pretty
+Leontine von Morien, the tourbillon of the princely court at
+Rheinsberg, who pined away in sighs. Now passed the sweetest and
+loveliest of all. The king's eyes, which stared into empty space,
+now beamed with glad recognition. The heart which had grown old and
+sobered beat with feverish rapidity, and the compressed lips
+whispered, sighing, "Barbarina!" She stood before him in her
+bewitching beauty, with the charming smile upon her ruby lips, and
+passionate love beaming from her flashing eyes. "Oh, Barbarina!" The
+king rose, a cold chill crept over him. He looked around so
+strangely in the desolate, darkened room, as if he could still see
+this form which greeted him with the sad smile and tearful glance.
+No one was there. He was quite alone. Only the feeble echo of far-
+distant days repeated the device of his youth--of his life: "Soffri
+e taci! Resignation alone has remained true to me. But no--there is
+still another friend, my flute. Come, you faithful companion of my
+life! You have witnessed my sorrows, and from you I have nothing to
+conceal!" He tenderly regarded it, for it was long since he had
+taken it from its case. The sorrows and cares of life, the suffering
+from the gout which raged in his teeth, and sad, sobering old age,
+had caused him to lay it aside, but with the habit of affection he
+carried it everywhere. Frederick felt himself grow young again with
+the souvenirs of former days, and essayed to recall the echo of
+tenderer feelings upon his flute. The music of his heart was hushed,
+the melodious tones of former days would not return. The king laid
+it aside with an impatient movement. "Nothing is lasting in life,"
+he murmured. A flourish of trumpets, a peal of drums announced that
+the regiment was passing which would parade before the king. What
+are they playing, which rouses the lonely king with bright memories
+and shouts of victory? It is the march which his majesty composed
+after the brilliant victory of Hohenfriedberg. The king raised his
+eyes gratefully to heaven, repeating aloud: "There is something
+lasting in life. Love ceases and music dies away, but the good we
+have accomplished remains. The most glorious of earthly rewards is
+granted to those who have achieved great deeds--the mortal becomes
+immortal--the gods ceding to him that which is more elevating than
+love or happiness--fame. Ye trumpets of Hohenfriedberg, ye will
+still quiver when I am gone, and relate to succeeding generations
+about 'Old Fritz.' Such tales are well worthy to live and suffer
+for! I am coming, ye trumpets of fame." With youthful activity and
+beaming face the king went out to receive his generals, who saluted
+him with silent reverence, and his soldiers, who greeted their
+beloved commander and king with an exultant shout.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+IN WEIMAR.
+
+
+"There lies dear Weimar, encircled in its wreath of green. Do you
+not see it, Wolf? I will refresh my heart with its view; so halt,
+postilion, halt," cried the duke. "It is more beautiful to me than
+stately, proud Berlin. Though a poor, gray nest, I could press it to
+my heart, with all its untidy little houses, and tedious old
+pedants. Let us walk down the hill, Wolf."
+
+"Most willingly," cried Goethe, stretching forth his arms to the
+little town, nestled in the peaceful valley, "be welcome, you lovely
+paradise, with your angels and serpents; we press on toward you with
+all our heart and soul, as to the seven-sealed book, filled with
+mysteries, and we would draw glorious revelations from your hidden
+contents."
+
+"And grant, ye gods, that the inspired one may at last break the
+seal which a cruel friend has placed upon her lips, that he may not
+drink the kiss of love glowing beneath," said the duke, smiling. "Do
+you not see the gray roof yonder, with its background of tall trees,
+that--"
+
+"The house where dwells my beloved, my dearest friend, my sister,
+and the mistress of my heart," interrupted Goethe. "She is all this,
+for she is my all in all. The fountains of bliss and love which here
+and there I have drawn from, refreshing my heart and occupying my
+mind, flow toward her, united in one broad, silvery stream, with
+heaven and earth mirrored therein, and revealing wonderful secrets
+in its rushing waves."
+
+"Ah, Wolf!" cried the duke, "you are a happy, enviable creature,
+free and unfettered, sending your love where it pleases you. My dear
+Wolf, I advise you never to marry, for--"
+
+Goethe hastily closed the duke's mouth with his hand. "Hush! not a
+word against the noble Duchess Louisa, my master and friend. She is
+an example of refined, womanly dignity; and you, Charles, are to be
+envied the love of so estimable a wife and sweet mother for your
+children."
+
+"Indeed I am," cried the duke, enthusiastically. "I could not have
+found a more high-minded, lovely wife, or a more excellent, virtuous
+mother for my descendants. But you know, Wolf, that your Charles has
+still another heart, very susceptible and tender, which seeks for an
+affinity to call its own, and vent itself in the pleasures of youth,
+in glorious flirtations, melancholy signs, and blissful longings.
+You cannot expect me at twenty-two to play the grandfather, and have
+no eyes or heart for other captivating women, though I love my young
+wife most affectionately, and bless Fate that I am bound with silken
+cords to Hymen's cart--though I am forever bound, and you, Wolf, are
+happily free!"
+
+"Because grim Fate refuses to unite me to my beloved. Oh, Charlotte,
+if you were free, how blessed would I be, enchained by you! Not to
+'Hymen's cart,' as the fortunate mocker says, but to the chariot of
+Venus, drawn by doves, enthroned upon which you would bear me to
+heaven!"
+
+"Do not blaspheme, Wolf," cried the duke; "rather kneel and thank
+the gods that you are not fettered and your wings clipped. They wish
+to preserve to you love's delusion, because you are a favorite, and
+deny you the object adored. Beware of the institution which the
+French actress, Sophie Arnould, has so wittily called the
+'consecration of adultery.' You will agree with me that we have many
+such little sacraments in our dear Weimar, and I must laugh when I
+reflect for what purpose those amiable beauties have married, as not
+one of them love their husbands, but they all possess a friend
+besides."
+
+"The human heart is a strange thing," said Goethe, as they descended
+the hill, arm in arm, "and above all a woman's heart! It is a sacred
+riddle, which God has given Himself to solve, and that only a God
+could unravel!"
+
+At this instant a flash of lightning, followed by heavy-rolling
+thunder, was heard.
+
+"Hear, Wolf--only hear!" laughed Charles--"God in heaven responds,
+and confirms your statement."
+
+"Or punishes me for my bold speech," cried Goethe, as the hailstones
+rattled around him hitting his face with their sharp points. "Heaven
+is whipping me with rods."
+
+"And our carriage has descended with a quick trot into the valley,"
+said the duke. "I will call it." He sprang into the middle of the
+road, making a speaking-trumpet of his hands, and shouted in a full,
+powerful voice, "Oho, postilion! here, postilion!"
+
+The continued rolling of the thunder, the whistling wind, and
+rattling hail, made all attempts inaudible. The two gentlemen sought
+shelter under the thick crowns of the oak-trees by the wayside,
+which formed an impenetrable roof to the flood of rain.
+
+"I know nothing more sublime than a thunder-storm," said Goethe,
+looking up as if inspired; "when the thunder rolls in such awful
+majesty and wrath, it seems as if I heard Prometheus in angry
+dispute with the gods. In the dark clouds I see the Titan, enveloped
+in mist, overspreading the heavens, and raising his giant-arm to
+hurl his mighty wrath." At this instant a flash of lightning,
+followed by a deafening peal reverberated in one prolonged echo
+through the hills.
+
+"Do you not hear him, Charles?" cried Goethe, delighted--"hear all
+the voices of earth united in the grumbling thunder of his wrath?
+See, there he stands, yonder in heaven--his form dark as midnight. I
+hear it--he calls--Overshadow the heavens, O Jupiter, With thy
+vaporous clouds! Cut off the oak and mountain-tops As a boy plucks
+the thistle. Leave me earth and my cabin Which thou hast not built,
+And my hearth-side, The glow of which thou enviest me! I know naught
+so miserable As you gods--you--"
+
+Again the mighty peal silenced Goethe, who looked to heaven with
+defiance flashing from his eyes and his clinched hand upraised, as
+if he were Prometheus himself menacing the gods.
+
+"Proceed, Wolf," cried the duke, as the echo died away. "How can
+you, yourself a god, be so excited with the anger of like beings?
+Proceed!"
+
+The uplifted arm of the poet sank at his side, and the fiery glance
+was softened. "No human word is capable of expressing what
+Prometheus just spoke in thunder," said Goethe, musingly, "and I
+humbly feel how weak and insignificant we are, and how great we
+think ourselves, while our voice is like the humming beetle in
+comparison to this voice from the clouds."
+
+"Be not desponding, Wolf, your own will ring throughout Europe;
+every ear will listen and every heart will comprehend, and centuries
+later it will delight with its freshness and beauty. The storm
+passes and dies away, but the poet lives in his heavenly melodies
+through all time. You must finish 'Prometheus' for me, Wolf. I
+cannot permit you to leave it as a fragment. I will have it in black
+and white, to refresh myself in its beauty bright. A spark of your
+divine talent is infused into my soul, and I begin to rhyme. Ah,
+Wolf, all that is elevated within me I owe to you, and I bless Fate
+for according you to me."
+
+"And I also, dear Charles," said Goethe, feelingly. "For, fostered
+and protected by your noble mind and nature, my inmost thoughts
+develop and blossom. We give and receive daily from each other, and
+so mingle the roots of our being that, God willing, we will become
+two beautiful trees, like the oak which now arches over us. But see,
+the rain is fast ceasing, and the sun looks out by the clinched hand
+of Prometheus. We can now travel on to the loved spot."
+
+"Oh, Wolf, are you in love? None but a lover could say the rain has
+ceased, when it pours down so that we should be drenched before we
+could arrive at Weimar. But hark! I hear a carriage in the distance;
+we may be favored with a shelter."
+
+The duke stepped out from under the trees, and looked along the
+highway with his sharp hunter's eye. "A vehicle approaches, but no
+chance for us, as it appears to be a farm-wagon, crowded with men
+and women."
+
+"Indeed it does," said Goethe, joining him; "a very merry company
+they are too, singing gayly. Now, grant the rain rain has ceased--"
+
+"Charlotte von Stein is at Weimar," interrupted the duke. "Give me
+your arm, and we will walk on."
+
+They advanced briskly arm in arm. A stranger meeting them would have
+supposed that they were brothers, so much alike were they in form,
+manners, and dress, for the duke as well as Goethe wore the Werther
+costume.
+
+As they descended, the carriage came nearer and nearer. The duke's
+keen eye had not been deceived. It was a farm-wagon, filled with a
+frolicsome party, sitting on bags of straw for cushions. They were
+chatting and laughing absorbed in fun, and did not observe the two
+foot-passengers, who turned aside from them. A sudden cry of
+surprise hushed the conversation; a form rose, half man and half
+woman, enveloped in a man's coat of green baize, crowned with a neat
+little hat of a woman. "Oh, it is Charles!" cried the form, and at
+the same instant the duke sprang to the wagon. "Is it possible, my
+dear mother?"
+
+"The Duchess Amelia!" cried Goethe, astonished.
+
+"Yes," laughed the duchess, greeting them with an affectionate look.
+"The proverb proves itself--'Like mother, like son.' On the highway
+mother and son have met. You should have done the honors in a
+stately equipage."
+
+"May I be permitted to ask where you come from?" asked the duke.
+"And the dress, of what order do you wear?"
+
+"We walked to Ziefurt, and intended to walk back. Thusnelda is so
+delicate and weak, that she complained of her fairy feet paining
+her," answered the duchess, laughing.
+
+"Ah, duchess, must I always be the butt?" cried the lady behind the
+duchess, crouching between the straw-sacks. "Must I permit you to
+follow in my footsteps, while I--"
+
+"Hush, Goechhausen--hush, sweet Philomel," interrupted the duke, "or
+the Delphic riddle of this costume will be apparent."
+
+"It is easily explained," said the duchess. "No other conveyance was
+to be had, and my good Wieland gave me his green overcoat to protect
+me from the pouring rain." [Footnote: True anecdote.--See Lewes'
+"Goethe's Life and Writings," vol. 1., p. 406.]
+
+"And from to-day forth it will be a precious palladium," cried the
+little man with a mild, happy face on the straw by the duchess.
+
+"And there is Knebel too," shouted the duke to the gentleman who
+just then pulled the wet hood of his cloak over his powdered hair.
+
+"Our treasurer Bertuch, Count Werther, and Baron von Einsiedel
+also."
+
+"Does not your highness ask after our bewitching countess?" asked
+Goechhausen, in her fine, sharp voice. "The countess is quite ill--
+is she not, Count Werther?"
+
+"I believe so, they say so," answered the count, rather absent-
+minded. "I have not seen her for some days."
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the duke, as Goethe was engaged in a
+lively conversation with the duchess. "Is the dear countess
+dangerously ill?"
+
+"Oh, no," answered Goechhausen, "not very ill, only in love with
+genius, a malady which has attacked us all more or less since that
+mad fellow Wolfgang Goethe has raged in Weimar, and made it a place
+of torment to honorable people. Oh, Goethe--oh, Wolf! with what
+lamb-like innocence we wandered in comfortable sheep's clothing
+until you came and fleeced us, and infected us with your 'Sturm und
+Dranger' malady, and made us fall in love with your works!"
+
+"Goechhausen, hold your malicious tongue, and do not hide your own
+joy beneath jest and mockery," cried the duchess. "Acknowledge that
+you are rejoiced to see your favorite, and that you will hasten to
+write to Madam Aja, 'Our dear duke has returned, and my angel, my
+idol, Wolfgang, also.' I assure you, Goethe, Thusnelda loves you,
+and was exceedingly melancholy during your absence. If asked the
+cause of her sadness, she wept like--"
+
+"Like a crocodile," said the duke. "Oh, I know those tears of
+Fraulein Goechhausen; I could relate stories of her crocodile
+nature. Mother, how can you have such a monster in your society? Why
+not make the cornes, that the little devils may fly away?"
+
+"Very good," cried the little, crooked lady. "I see your highness
+has not changed by this journey. Where have you been, dear duke? Oh,
+I remember; you flew over the Rhine, and have flown home again quite
+unchanged."
+
+All laughed, the duke louder than any one. "Goechhausen, you are a
+glorious creature, and the Arminius is to be envied who appropriates
+this Thusnelda. Oh, I see the charming youth before me, who has the
+courage to make this German wife his own!"
+
+"I will scratch his eyes out?" cried Goechhausen, "and then the
+Countess Werther can play Antigone, and lead him around as Oedipus.
+Why shut your eyes, Einsiedel? I do not scratch quite yet."
+
+"I was not thinking of that," said the baron, astonished.
+
+"You never think that every one knows; but did you not do it so soon
+as you understood the Countess Werther should lead blind Oedipus as
+Antigone?"
+
+Before the count could answer, the court lady turned again to the
+duke. "What did your highness bring me? I hope you have not
+forgotten that you promised me a handsome present."
+
+"No, I have not forgotten it; I have brought my Thusnelda a
+souvenir--such a gift!"
+
+"What is it, your highness?"
+
+"A surprise which, if Thusnelda is clever, she must think about all
+night.--But, Goethe, is it not time to leave the ladies?"
+
+"Wait, I command you both," said the Duchess Amelia, extending her
+hand to her son, who pressed it to his lips most affectionately. "I
+have given out invitations for a soiree, for this evening. My
+daughter-in-law, the Duchess Louisa, has accepted, duke, and Frau
+von Stein also, Goethe. I hope to see you at Belvedere, gentlemen.
+The poet Gleim is in town, and will read his late 'Muse Almanach.'
+May I not expect both of you?"
+
+They joyfully consented, gazing after the merry society as it drove
+away. "This is a good bite for the poisonous tongues of the
+honorable," cried the duke. "My mother in a farm-wagon, with
+Wieland's green overcoat on, and the reigning duke, with his Goethe,
+entering his capital on foot like a journeyman mechanic, after a
+long journey!"
+
+"I wish we were there, my dearest friend," sighed Goethe.
+
+"Oh, love makes you impatient! Come on, then. But listen, we must
+play Gochhausen a trick; I have promised her a surprise. Will you
+help me, Wolf?"
+
+"With pleasure, duke."
+
+"I have thought of something very droll, and your servant Philip
+must help us; he is a clever fellow, and can keep his own counsel."
+
+"He is silent as the grave, duke."
+
+"That is necessary for such a gentleman as the women all run after.
+Let us skip down the mountain, and then forward where our hearts
+incline us. This afternoon I will go for you and bring you to
+Belvedere, and then we can talk over the surprise." They ran down
+the declivity into the suburb, to the terror of the good people, who
+looked after them, saying that the young duke had returned with his
+mad protege. The "mad favorite" seemed more crazy than ever to-day,
+for after a brief farewell to the duke, he bounded through the
+streets across the English park, to the loved house, the roof of
+which he had so longingly greeted from the hillside. The door stood
+open, as is customary in small towns, and the servant in the
+vestibule came to meet him, and respectfully announced that her
+master had gone to his estate at Hochberg, but that Frau von Stein
+was most probably in the pavilion, in the garden, as she had gone
+thither with her guitar. "Is she alone?" asked Goethe. The servant
+answered in the affirmative, and through the court hastened the
+lover--not through the principal entrance, as he would surprise her,
+and read in her sweet face whether she thought of him. Softly he
+opened the little garden gate, and approached the pavilion by a
+side-alley. Do his feet touch the ground, or float over it? He knew
+not; he heard music, accompanied by a sweet, melodious voice. It was
+Charlotte's. Goethe's face beamed with delight and happiness. He
+gazed at her unseen, not alone with his eyes, but heart and soul
+went forth to her. She sat sideways to the door; upon a table lay
+her notes, and the guitar rested upon her arm. She sang, in a rich,
+sweet voice, Reinhardt's beautiful melody:
+
+"I'd rather fight my way through sorrows
+Than bear so many joys in life;
+All this affinity of heart to heart,
+How strangely it causes us to suffer!"
+
+She ceased, as if overpowered with her own thoughts, the guitar sank
+upon her lap, and her fingers glided over the chords, so that the
+tones died away imperceptibly. Her deep-blue eyes gazed pensively in
+the distance, and the sweet lips repeated softly, "How strangely it
+causes us to suffer!" Near the garden entrance, through which the
+odor of sweet flowers and the song of birds was wafted with every
+gentle zephyr, stood Goethe, looking at the woman whom he had so
+passionately loved for three years, so absorbingly, that to her were
+consecrated all his thoughts.
+
+He could contain himself no longer; he rushed forward and threw
+himself at her feet. "Oh, Charlotte, I love you, only you, and once
+more I am by your side!"
+
+A shriek! was it a cry of surprise or delight? Who let the guitar
+fall to the floor, he or she? Who embraced the other in affectionate
+haste, he or she? Who pressed the lips so lovingly to the other
+lips, he or she? And who said, "I love you? What bliss to again
+repose in your affection, I would fain die now. In this moment a
+whole life has been consecrated, for love has revealed to us our
+other self."
+
+She sat upon the tabouret, and Goethe still knelt before her,
+clasping her feet and pressing them to his bosom. His eyes beamed
+with inexpressible delight as he regarded the face, usually so calm
+and indifferent--today glowing as sunrise.
+
+"Oh, tell me, Charlotte, have you thought of me? But rather speak to
+me with your eyes, and may they be more than the cruel lips which
+refuse to confess. Oh, shade not those loved orbs, which are my
+stars shining upon me, whithersoever I wander. They are my light, my
+spring-time, and my love. They will never cease to beam upon me, as
+light and love never grow old. Let me read eternal youth in those
+eyes, and the secrets which rest as pearls in the depths of your
+heart. Only tell me, is the pearl of love to be found there, and is
+it mine?"
+
+"It would be a misfortune if it were there," she whispered, with a
+sweet smile. "Pearls are the result of a malady, and my heart would
+be ill if the pearl of love were found there. No, no, rise, Wolf,
+dear Wolf, we have given away at the first moment of meeting; let us
+now be reasonable, and speak in a dignified manner with each other,
+as it becomes a married woman and her friend."
+
+"Friend?" repeated Goethe, impetuously; "forever must I listen to
+this hated, hypocritical word, which, like a priest's robe, shall
+cover the sacred glow in my heart? I have told you, Charlotte, that
+I am not your friend, and I never shall be. There is not the least
+spark of this still, calm fire of the earthly moderation in me, by
+which one could cook his potatoes, or his daily vegetables, but by
+which one could never prepare food for the gods, or that which could
+refresh a poet's heart or quicken his soul. No, in me burns the fire
+which Prometheus stole from the gods, originating in heaven and
+glowing upon earth. This heavenly and earthly love unites in one
+flame. Again, I say, Charlotte, banish this hypocritical word
+'friendship!' It is only love which I feel for you, let this
+sentiment enter at every avenue of your heart, and do not feign
+ignorance of it, sweet hypocrite. Surprise has torn away the mask!
+The passionate kiss, which still burns upon my lips, was not given
+by a friend or sister; but overcome by joy, the truth has been
+acknowledged!"
+
+"Do you wish that the kiss of meeting should be that of parting
+also?" said Charlotte, sadly, as she raised her blue eyes with a
+languishing look to the handsome, ardent face of the man who stood
+before her. "Do you wish to separate forever? I must recall to you
+our last conversation: 'Only when you are resolved to moderate this
+impetuous manner, and curb this overflow of feeling, which reason
+and custom imposes upon us, shall I be able to receive you and enjoy
+your society.'"
+
+"Yes, with these unmeaning phrases you banished me. Cruel and hard-
+hearted were you to the last. Oh, Charlotte! you know what I
+suffered at our last walk, with your reasoning remonstrances and
+cold-hearted reproaches; they pierced my heart like poisoned arrows.
+If the duke and duchess had not been walking before us, I should
+have wept myself weary. My whole being cried within me: 'Oh! cruel
+and inexorable woman, to beg of me, who so unutterably loves her, to
+call her friend and sister!' I repeated the words daily during my
+absence, and sought to clothe your beloved image with meaning. They
+disfigured you, and the angel whom I adore was no longer
+recognizable. I cannot call you friend or sister."
+
+"Then I can be nothing to you, dear Wolfgang," sighed Charlotte. "In
+this hour of meeting we will part, and to avoid a chance encounter
+even, I will go to my husband at Kochberg, and remain there the
+whole summer."
+
+Goethe seized her, holding her fast in his strong arms, staring her
+in the face with a fierce, angry look. "Are you in earnest? Would
+you really do it?"
+
+"Goethe, I beg you to loosen your hold; you hurt my arms."
+
+"Do you not also hurt me? With your cold indifference do you not
+pierce my heart with red-hot daggers, and then smile and rejoice at
+my torture, which is a proof to you of my unbounded love? While you
+only play with me, and attach me to your triumphal car, to display
+to the world that you have succeeded in taming the lion, and have
+changed him into a good-natured domestic animal. Go! you do not
+deserve that I should love you, cold-hearted, cruel woman!"
+
+He threw her arms from him, with tears in his eyes. Charlotte von
+Stein regarded him with anger and indifference.
+
+"Farewell, secretary of legation. It seems to please you to insult
+and offend a poor woman, who has no other protection than her honor
+and virtue. Farewell! I will not expose myself to such offences;
+therefore I will retire."
+
+She turned slowly toward the door, but Goethe bounded forward like a
+tiger, interrupted her path, falling upon his knees, imploring pity
+and begging for pardon. "Oh, Charlotte, I will be gentle as a child,
+I will be reserved, I know that I am a sinner! It is warring against
+one's own heart to seek comfort in offending what is dearest to it
+in a moment of ill-humor. But I have again become a child, with all
+my thoughts, scarcely recognizable for the moment, quite lost to
+myself, as I consent to the conditions of others with this fire
+raging within me. Oh, beloved Charlotte, forgive me! I submit to all
+that you wish." [Footnote: Goethe's words.--See "Letters to
+Charlotte yon Stein," roll., p. 358.]
+
+"Will you be satisfied to love me as your friend and sister?"
+
+"I will be," he sighed. "Only in the future you must endeavor to
+persuade yourself into such a sisterly way that you will be
+indulgent to my rudeness, otherwise I shall have to avoid you when I
+need you most. Oh, Charlotte, it seems terrible to me that I should
+mar through anguish the best hours of my life, the blissful moments
+of meeting with you, for whom I would pluck every hair from my head
+if it would make you happy. And yet to be so blind, so hardened!
+Have pity upon me. Again I promise you that I will be reasonable. Do
+not banish me from your presence. Extend to me your hand, and
+promise me that you will be my friend and sister!" [Footnote:
+Goethe's words.--See "Letters to Charlotte von Stein," roll., p.
+358.]
+
+"Then here is my hand," said she, with a charming smile.
+
+"I will be your friend and sister, and--"
+
+"What now, my Charlotte? do finish--what is it?"
+
+She laid her hand gently upon his shoulder, and her words fell on
+his ear like soft music. "When my dear friend and much-beloved
+brother has conducted himself very prudently for two or three happy
+weeks, I will send him a ringlet of my hair, which he has so long
+begged for, and a kiss with it."
+
+Goethe spoke not, but pressed her blushing face to his bosom, and
+laid his hand gently upon her head. A smile of delight--of perfect
+happiness--played around his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+THE READING.
+
+
+This happy smile still beamed upon Goethe's face as he walked with
+the duke late in the evening toward Belvedere to soiree of the
+Duchess Amelia, who was inspired with a love for the fine arts, and
+particularly literature. The two gentlemen had busily occupied
+themselves in preparing them for the lady of honor, Fraulein von
+Gochhausen, and, although aided by Goethe's servant, Philip, and
+workmen, it was late when they arrived.
+
+As they entered, the ladies and gentlemen were seated in a large
+circle around the centre-table. At one end sat the Duchesses Amelia
+and Louisa, the mother and wife of Charles Augustus and near the
+former her friend and favorite the poet Wieland, once the tutor of
+her son the duke. Near the poet sat an elderly gentleman of
+cheerful, good-natured mien, who, with the exception of Wieland, was
+the only one who did not present himself, like the duke and Goethe,
+in Werther costume. He wore a white, silver-embroidered coat, with a
+dark-blue satin vest, and breeches of the same, shoes with buckles,
+and bosom and wrist ruffles of lace.
+
+This gentleman, with the bright, sparkling eyes, and pleasant face,
+was the poet Gleim, who looked very comfortable and stately in the
+circle of powdered perukes. His admiration for Frederick the Great
+had inspired him to write some beautiful military songs, and his
+love of poetry and literature made him an enthusiastic admirer of
+all those devoted themselves to literary pursuits. Besides, he was
+rich and liberal, and it was very natural that the poets, and
+authors exerted themselves with marked assiduity to please Father
+Gleim. They were gratified to have him print their works for a small
+remuneration in an annual which he entitled the "Almanach of the
+Muses." He was just reading aloud at the duchess's soiree from the
+late edition of the almanach, and the society listened with earnest
+and kind attention, occasionally interrupted with an enthusiastic
+"Bravo!" or "Excellent!" from the duchess, followed by a murmur of
+assent around the table, which caused the poet's face to brighten
+with joy and satisfaction, and him to read on with increased energy.
+
+The entrance of the duke and Goethe was unobserved, as it was
+understood that the former wished no notice to be taken of his going
+or coming, and the duchess had also waved her hand, not to interrupt
+Father Gleim. The poet has just finished the new poem of melodious
+rhythm of imprisoned Shubart. As he paused to wipe the perspiration
+from his brow and sip a little raspberry water, a tall, slender
+young man, in the Werther costume, approached, bowing, and regarding
+the poet so kindly, that the glance of his fine black eyes fell like
+a sunbeam on the heart of the old man. "You appear somewhat
+fatigued, my good sir," said the unknown, in a sweet, sonorous
+voice. "Will you not permit me to relieve you, and read in your
+stead from this glorious book of yours?"
+
+"Do so, my dear Gleim," said the Duchess Amelia, smiling, "you seem
+really exhausted; let the young man continue the agreeable and
+welcome entertainment."
+
+Father Gleim was very well pleased; he handed the book to the young
+stranger with a graceful bow, as the latter seated himself opposite
+to him, and next to Fraulein Gochhausen.
+
+He commenced in a clear, distinct voice. The verses flowed from his
+lips gracefully, and in a cultivated style. The company listened
+with devoted attention, and Father Gleim, the protector of all the
+young poets, sat delighted, nodding consent, with a pleasant smile.
+It must all be charming--it had come into existence under his
+fostering care. What beautiful verses to listen to! "Die Zephyre
+lauschen, Die Balche rauschen, Die Sonus Verbreitet ihr Licht mit
+Wonne!"
+
+And how charmingly the young man read them! Suddenly Father Gleim
+startled, and the smile died upon his lips. What was it? What was
+the young man reading? Verse which were not in the collection, and
+which were more remarkable than he had ever heard from his young
+poets. "Those are not in the Annual," cried Gleim, quite forgetting
+decorum,--"that--"
+
+One glance from the fine black eyes of the young man so confounded
+Father Gleim, that he ceased in the midst of a sentence, and,
+staring in breathless astonishment, listened. Glorious thoughts were
+expressed therein, and the poets of the Muse Almanach might have
+thanked God if the like had occurred to them. Love was not the
+burden of the song; neither hearts, griefs, nor bliss, but satire,
+lashing right and left with graceful dexterity, and dealing a
+harmless thrust to every one. All were forced to laugh; the happy
+faces animated and inspired every thing. The brilliant satirical
+verses rushed like rockets from the lips of the reader--a real
+illumination of wit and humor, of good-natured jokes and biting
+sarcasm, and it delighted the old man that every one had received
+hits and thrusts but himself; he had been spared until now! Every
+one regarded him, smiling and amused, as the reader exalted the
+merits of the Maecenas, and praised him highly for the interest he
+took in the poet's heart, soul, and purse, and shouted victory when
+one excelled. But suddenly the good father also changed, and,
+instead of the patron on the right throne, there was a turkey-cock
+on the round nest, which zealously sought to hatch out the many eggs
+that he had to take care of for others besides his own; he sat
+brooding untiringly, and shed many a tear of joy over the fine
+number of eggs, yet it happened that a poetical viper had put but
+under him one of chalk, which he cared for with the others.
+
+Herr Gleim could no longer contain himself, and, striking the table,
+he cried, "That is either Goethe or the devil!" The entire company
+burst into uncontrollable laughter, and the old man shouted the
+second time, though inwardly angry, "It is either Goethe or the
+devil!"
+
+"Both, dear Father Gleim," said Wieland, who was drying his tears
+from laughter, "it is Goethe, and he has the devil in him to-day. He
+is like a wild colt, which kicks out behind and before, and it would
+be well not to approach him too near." [Footnote: Wieland's own
+words.--See Lewes' "Life of Goethe," vol. i., p. 432.]
+
+Goethe alone retained his composure, and continued reading in a
+louder voice, which hushed all conversation. He lashed with bitter
+sarcasm "him who assumed to be a god--a wise man--and who counted
+for nothing better than a pretentious, saucy fellow, who made
+himself the scorn of the poets by his sweet, Werther-like sighs, and
+other worthless lamentations, heeding neither God nor the devil!"
+
+And so he stormed and thundered, ridiculed and slandered his own
+flesh and blood, until Goechhausen, red with anger, rose and
+snatched the book from his hand, and closed his lips with her hand,
+crying: "If you do not cease, Goethe, I will write to your beloved
+mother, Frau Aja, that a satirist, a calumniator has had the
+impudence to defame and slur her beloved son in a most sinful and
+shameful manner! I will write to her, indeed, if you do not stop!"
+
+Goethe rose, and bowing offered his hand to Father Gleim in such a
+friendly, affectionate manner, that the old man, quite delighted,
+thanked him heartily for the pleasure and surprise which he had
+afforded him.
+
+The duke, however, seated himself by the little lady of honor.
+"Thusnelda, you are an incomparable creature, and quite calculated
+to be the ancestress of all the Germans. I declare myself your
+cavalier for the evening, and will devote myself to you as your most
+humble servant, and will not quit your side for a moment."
+
+"Very beautiful it will be, my dear duke, a most charming idyl; in
+true Watteau style, I will be the sweet shepherdess, and lead your
+highness by a little ribbon. But where is my present--my surprise?"
+
+"You must not be impatient, Thusnelda, but wait what time will
+produce. You will have it; if not to-day, to-morrow. Every day
+brings its own care and sorrow."
+
+"Ah, duke, instead of giving me my surprise, you beat me with
+doggerels. That comes from having a Goethe for companion and friend.
+Crazy tricks, like chicken-pox, are contagious, and the latter you
+have caught, duke. It is a new kind of genius distemper. Very
+fortunately, our dear Countess Werther has another malady, or she
+might be infected. Perhaps she has it already, Count Werther--how is
+it?'
+
+"I do not know, Fraulein," replied the count, startled from reverie.
+"I really do not know! My wife is quite ill, for that reason has
+gone to our estate to recover her peace and quiet. It is
+unfortunately quite impossible for me to visit her there; but my
+dear, faithful friend, Baron von Einsiedel, will drive over to-
+morrow at my request, my commission--"
+
+"To set the fox to keep the geese," interrupted Thusnelda in her
+lively manner.
+
+"No, not that, Fraulein," said Count Werther, quite confused, as the
+duke burst into a merry laugh, calling Thusnelda a witty Kobold, and
+as her faithful Celadon offered her his arm to conduct her to his
+mother, the Duchess Amelia.
+
+The company were all in a very happy frame of mind. Goethe's
+charming impromptu had kindled wit and humor upon every lip. He
+himself was the happiest of all, for Charlotte was by his side,
+gazing upon him with her large, thoughtful eyes, and permitting him
+to be her cavalier for the evening.
+
+The duke also devoted himself to Fraulein von Goechhausen, who was
+this evening unsurpassably witty and caustic, delighting him, and
+making the Duchess Amelia laugh, and the Duchess Louisa sometimes to
+slightly shrug her shoulders and shake her head with disapproval.
+
+In the midst of a most interesting conversation with Frau von Stein,
+Goethe was informed that some one awaited him in the anteroom. He
+went out quickly, and upon returning he whispered to the duke, who
+nodded, and answered him in a low tone, and then Goethe betook
+himself to the Duchess Amelia.
+
+"What is it?" the latter asked. "Have important dispatches arrived?"
+
+"No; I come to your highness as courier from your son. The duke begs
+that you will lock the door of your anteroom when you retire, and
+that you will upon no condition open it, no matter how much
+Thusnelda may beg and implore."
+
+"Will you not injure my poor Goechhausen, you wanton fellow?"
+
+"No! it is not very dangerous, duchess. It is only a harmless
+surprise, which the duke promised Fraulein von Goechhausen."
+
+"Very well, then, it can take place; I promise to be quite deaf to
+all Thusnelda's knocking and thumping, and I shall be glad to be
+informed to-morrow what the trick is. I prefer not to inquire to-
+day, as I might feel obliged to veto it if it were too severe. But
+look, the Duchess Louisa will break up; does she know any thing
+about the affair?"
+
+"No, your highness, you know very well that the young duchess--"
+
+"Is much more sensible than the old one, and shakes her head
+disapprovingly when she hears of your ingenuous tricks. Perhaps it
+would be well if I were equally sensible, but there is no help for
+it. I like bright, happy people, and I think when youth vents
+itself, old age is more sedate and reasonable."
+
+"You are quite right, duchess. Mankind resembles new wine. If the
+must does not ferment and foam well, no good wine will come of it.
+But look at our Charles, with the saucy jest upon his lip, and the
+fire of inspiration in those bright brown eyes. One day a fine,
+strong wine will clear itself from this glorious fermenting must."
+
+"I hope so, Goethe, and if the gods grant it, the great merit will
+belong to you, who have proved yourself a good vintager, and we will
+rejoice together in your glorious success."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+WITCHCRAFT
+
+
+An hour later the palace Belvedere was silent and deserted; the
+guests had taken their departure. The duchess had her suite and
+commanded them to retire. Fraulein von Gochhausen alone remained
+with her mistress, chatting by the bedside, and recapitulating in
+her amusing style all important and unimportant events of the
+soiree, The duchess smiled at the mischievous remarks with which she
+ornamented her relation, and at her keen, individualizing of
+persons.
+
+"Fraulein Gochhausen, you are the most wicked and the merriest
+mocking-bird God ever created," cried the duchess, "Have done with
+your scandals, go up to your room, piously say your evening prayers,
+and stretch yourself upon your maiden bed."
+
+"Soon, duchess; only one thing more have I to call your attention
+to. There is a gossip afloat about the Werthers. I perceive it in
+the air, as the dove scents the vulture."
+
+"You alarm me, Gochhausen; what good is it? You do not mean that the
+lovely Countess Werther--"
+
+"Is not only very weary of her husband, but looks about for a
+substitute--a friend, as the ingenious ladies now call him. That is
+what I mean, and I know the so-called friend which the sweet
+sentimental countess has chosen."
+
+"It is the Baron von Einsiedel, is it not?" asked the duchess. "That
+is to say, his younger brother, the gay lieutenant, not our good
+friend par excellence.
+
+"Yes, I mean the brother, and I have warned and taunted the count
+this week past, but it is impossible to awake him from his stupidity
+and thoughtlessness."
+
+"Again you are giving loose reins to your naughty tongue, Thusnelda.
+Count Werther is a thoroughly scholarly person, whom I often envy
+his knowledge of the languages. He has studied Sanscrit and the
+cuneated letters, among other ancient tongues."
+
+"It may be that he understands the dead languages, but the living
+ones not in the least. The language of the eyes and inspiration he
+is blind to, with seeing eyes! My dear duchess, if you are not
+watchful, and prevent the affair with timely interference, a scandal
+will grow out of it, and you know well that it would be a welcome
+opportunity for our Weimar Philistines (as the Jena students call
+commonplace gossips) to cry 'Murder,' and howl about the immoral
+example of geniuses, which Wolfgang Goethe has introduced at court."
+
+"You are right," said the duchess, musingly; "your apt tongue and
+keen eye are ever carefully watching, like a good shepherd-dog, that
+none of the sheep go astray and are lost. And you do not mind
+attacking this or that one in the leg with your sharp teeth!"
+
+"Let those scream who are unjustly bitten, your highness! Believe
+me, the countess will not cry out; she will much more likely take
+care not to receive a well-merited rebuke. I beg your grace to
+prevent the gossip! Not on account of this silly, sentimental young
+woman, or her pedantic husband, but that our young duke and Goethe
+may not be exposed to scandal, as well as your highness."
+
+"You are right--we must take care to prevent it. Has not the
+countess been absent at her estate four days?"
+
+"Yes, your highness, it is just this that troubles me. She went away
+as sound as a fish, and has suddenly fallen very ill. No physician
+has been called, but, to-morrow, the count will commission his dear
+friend the baron to drive to his country-seat, and bring him tidings
+of his better-half."
+
+"We must circumvent this. In the morning we will arrange a pleasure-
+drive, of the whole court, to the country-seat of Count Werther. It
+shall be a surprise. Let Fourier give out the invitations early to-
+morrow, for a country party, destination unknown. The distribution
+of the couples in the carriages shall be decided by lot. Take care
+that Lieutenant Einsiedel is your cavalier, so that when we arrive
+at the little Werther, he will already be appropriated, and then we
+will induce her to return with us and spend some time at Belvedere.
+Now, good-night, Thusnelda; I am very tired and need repose. Sleep
+already weighs upon my eyelids, and will close them as soon as you
+are gone. Good-night, my child--sleep well!"
+
+The little deformed court lady kissed the extended hand, the
+candlestick, with only a stump of a taper in it, and withdrew from
+the princely sleeping-room, courtesying, and wishing her mistress
+good-night, with pleasant dreams.
+
+The anteroom was dark and deserted. The lights were all
+extinguished, and Fraulein Goechhausen was, in truth, the only
+person who had not long since retired in the ducal palace. She was
+accustomed to be the last, accustomed to traverse the long, lonely
+corridors, and mount two flights of stairs to her bedroom upon the
+third story. The gay duchess, being very fond of society, had had
+the second story arranged guest-chambers and drawing-rooms.
+
+Why should the little court lady be afraid to-night? She had not
+thought of it, but stepped forward briskly to mount the stairs. It
+was surely very disagreeable for the wind to extinguish her lamp at
+that instant, just at the turning of stairs, and she could not
+account for it, as none of the windows were open, and there was no
+trace of a draft. However, it was an undeniable fact, the light was
+out and she was in total darkness--not even a star was to be seen in
+the clouded sky. It was, indeed, true that Thusnelda was so
+accustomed to the way that it mattered little whether she had a
+light or not. Now she had reached the corridor and she could not
+fail to find the door, as there was but one, that of her own room.
+She stretched out her hand to open it, but, strange to say, she
+missed the knob! Then she was sure that it was farther on; she felt
+along the wall, but still it eluded her grasp. It was unheard of--no
+handle and not a door even to be found! The wall was bare and
+smooth, and papered the entire length. A slight shudder crept over
+the courageous little woman's heart, and she could not explain to
+herself what it all meant. She called her maid, but no answer--not a
+sound interrupted the stillness! "I will go down to the duchess,"
+murmured Thusnelda; "perhaps she is awake, and then I can re-light
+my taper!"
+
+The door was fastened; the duchess had locked the ante-room to-night
+for the first time.
+
+Thusnelda tapped lightly, and begged an entrance humbly and
+imploringly. No answer, every thing was quiet. She recalled that the
+duchess had told her that she was very weary, and would sleep as
+soon as she was alone, which she undoubtedly had done.
+
+Thusnelda did not presume to awake her by knocking louder. She would
+be patient, and mount again to her room. Surely she must have made a
+mistake, and turned to the left of the corridor, where there was no
+door, instead of the right, as she ought to have done. It must be
+that it was her fault. She groped along the dark flights of stairs
+to the upper gallery, carefully seeking the right this time, but in
+vain. Again she felt only the smooth wall. Terrified, she knew not
+whether she was awake or dreaming, or whether she might not be in an
+enchanted castle, or walking in her sleep in a strange house. Just
+here she ought to find her room and the maid awaiting her, but it
+was lonely, deserted, and strange--no door, no maid. Thusnelda, with
+trembling hands smoothed her face, pulled first her nose, and then
+her hair, to identify herself. "Is it I?" she said. "Am I, indeed,
+myself? Am I awake? I know that I am lady of honor to the Duchess
+Amelia, and that upon the upper story is my room. Do not be foolish,
+and imagine that witchcraft comes to pass; the door is there, and it
+can be found." Thusnelda renewed her search with out-spread arms and
+wide-spread fingers, feeling first this side of the wall and then
+the other.
+
+By daylight the deformed little lady of honor must have been a very
+droll figure, in full toilet, dancing along the wall as if suspended
+by her outstretched hands. Oh, it was quite vain to seek any longer.
+It must be enchantment, and the door had disappeared. An indefinable
+dream crept over Thusnelda, and she was cast down. For the first
+time a jest failed her trembling lips, and she wept with anguish.
+Yes, she, the keen, mordant, jesting little woman, prayed and
+implored her Maker to unloose her from the enchantment, and permit
+her to find the long-sought-for entrance. But praying was in vain,
+the door was not to be found, it was witch craft, and she must
+submit to it. The rustling and moving her arms frightened her now,
+and when she walked the darkness prevented her seeing if any one
+followed her; so she crouched upon the floor, yielding to the
+unavoidable necessity passing the night there--the night of
+enchantment and witchery.[Footnote: See Lewes' "Life and Writings of
+Goethe," vol. 1., p. 408.]
+
+Not alone for Fraulein Goechhausen was this beautiful May-night of
+sad experience with witches. There were other places at Weimar. In
+the neighborhood of the ducal park, in the midst of green-meadows,
+stood a simple little cottage. Near it flowed the Ilm, spanned by
+three bridges, all closed by gates, so that no one could reach the
+cottage without the occupant's consent. It was as secure as a
+fortress or an island of the sea, and distinctly visible even in the
+night, its white walls rising against the dark perspective of the
+park. This is the poet's Eldorado, his paradise, presented to
+Wolfgang Goethe by his friend the Duke Charles Augustus. It was late
+as the possessor wound his way toward his Tusculum, as he familiarly
+called it, and, more attracted by the aspect of the heavens than by
+sleep, sought the balcony, to gaze at the dark mass of clouds
+chasing each other like armies in retreat and pursuit; one moment
+veiling the moon, at another revealing her full disk, and soon again
+covering the earth with dark shadows, until the lightning flashed
+down in snaky windings, making the darkness momentarily visible with
+her lurid glare. It was a glorious spectacle for the intuitive,
+sympathetic soul of the poet, and he yielded to its influence with
+delight. He heard the voice of God in the rolling of the thunder,
+and sought to comprehend the unutterable, and understand it in this
+poetical sense. Voices spake to him in the rushing of the storm, the
+sighing of the trees, and the rustling of the foliage. The storm
+passed quickly, a profound quiet and solemnity spread out over the
+nightly world, and it lay as if in repose, smiling in blissful
+dreams. The air was filled with perfumes, wafted to the balcony upon
+which dreamed the poet with unclosed eyelids and waking thoughts.
+The clouds were all dispersed; full and clear was suspended the moon
+in the deep, blue vault, where twinkled thousands of stars,
+whispering of unknown worlds, and the mysteries of Nature, and the
+greatness of Him who created them all.
+
+"Oh, beloved, golden moon, how calmly you look down upon me, sublime
+and lovely at the same time! When I gaze at you, moving so quietly,
+floating in infinity, and contemplating reflect thyself in
+finiteness, I think of you, oh Charlotte, who stands above me like
+the moon so bright and mild, and I envelop myself in your rays, and
+my spirit becomes heavenly in your light.
+
+Mir ist es, denk ich nur an Dich, Als in den Mond zu seh'n, Ein
+suesser Friede weht um mich, Weiss nicht, wie mir gescheh'n!
+
+"Yes, like sweet peace, and quiet, sacred moonlight, my thoughts
+shall be of you, Charlotte; not like the glowing rays of the sun, or
+the cold light of the stars. Bright and beaming like the moon you
+are to me, spreading around me your soft light. Oh, beautiful golden
+moon, mirrored in the water, you lie as in a silvery bath, and would
+entice me to seek you in the murmuring depths. Hark! how the ruffled
+waves of the Ilm with repeated gentle caresses kiss the shore, rush
+from thence in golden links down the river! Sweet of the Ilm, I
+come, I come!"
+
+Goethe hastened from the balcony, threw aside his apparel, plunged
+into the silvery flood, shouting with joy.
+
+What heavenly pleasure to float there, rocked by the murmuring
+waves, gazing at the silvery stars and the golden moon, a lovely May
+night, listening to the voices of Nature! Add to that the perfume-
+laden breeze rising from the rain-refreshed meadows. How glorious to
+plunge into the cool stream, splashing and dashing the water, and
+then to shoot like a fish through the drops falling like golden
+rain! Suddenly, while swimming, Goethe raised his head to listen. He
+thought he heard footsteps on the poet's forbidden bridge. The moon
+distinctly revealed a peasant from Oberweimar, who would be early to
+the weekly market, and so serve himself to the shortest route while
+no one could see him.
+
+"Such presumption deserves punishment, my good peasant, and if there
+is no one else to do it the ghosts must."
+
+Listen, what a savage yell from under the bridge, and then another
+more unearthly!
+
+The peasant, frightened, stopped suddenly, and looked down into the
+river. "Oh, what can it be?"
+
+A glistening white arm is raised menacingly toward the bridge. A
+white figure, with a black head and long black hair, is seen
+plunging and splashing, while fearful yells are heard from the deep.
+Then it disappeared, to return, and menace, and yell, and plunge
+again.
+
+The peasant shrieked with terror, and was answered with a cruel
+laugh. The white figure sank and rose from the river screeching and
+yelling, and the peasant shrieked also with terror.
+
+"A ghost! a ghost! oh, have mercy upon us! Amen! amen!"
+
+Fright lent him wings, and he fled, followed by the savage yells of
+the white figure, and never stopped until he reached Oberweimar,
+where he related to the astonished and terrified neighbors that
+there was a river-ghost just by the bridge which led to the cottage
+of the mad secretary of legation, Goethe, and which howled in the
+moonlight.[Footnote: This tradition of the ghost of the Ilm has been
+preserved in Weimar, since Goethe's nocturnal bath, until our time.-
+-See Lewes, vol. i., p. 451.]
+
+With the peasant also disappeared the ghost of the Ilm.
+
+Like a happy child of Nature, refreshed, Goethe went to his room and
+then again sought the balcony, to throw himself upon the carpet and
+gaze at the blue starry vault, and enjoy the glories of heaven with
+thoughtful devotion, and think of Charlotte--only of her, not once
+of the poor Thusnelda von Goechhausen, who passed the night upon the
+stairs of the Palace Belvedere, and who, at last weary with fright
+and exhaustion, fell asleep, and was awakened by the Duchess Amelia
+in the morning, laughingly demanding why she preferred the landing
+of the stairs for a place of repose.
+
+"Because I am bewitched, duchess, and my sleeping-room has
+disappeared from earth--because some cursed demon or wizard has
+enchanted me, this wicked--"
+
+"Beware what you say!" interrupted the duchess; "it is most probably
+the duke that you are inveighing against, and calling a demon and
+wizard."
+
+At this Thusnelda sprang up as if struck by an electric shock--"The
+surprise, this is what the duke promised me."
+
+"Very likely," laughed the duchess. "The courier just arrived with a
+letter from my son to you, and I came to bring it myself, and found
+you, to my surprise, sleeping here. Read it, and tell me what he
+says!"
+
+"Oh, listen, your highness!" cried Thusnelda, after having hastily
+perused the contents of the ducal missive.
+
+"'I hope I have succeeded to surprise you!
+Demons and wizards have closed your doors,
+And weeping you slept on the stairway alone.
+All witchcraft has now disappeared.
+Go seek The surprise that from Berlin I brought you,
+Which I now offer for an atonement.'"
+
+"An insolent fellow, indeed, is my son," said the duchess, "but you
+see, Thusnelda, he says, pater peccavi, and I am convinced that you
+will find something very pretty and acceptable in your room."
+
+"I will not take it--indeed I will not," pouted the lady of honor.
+"He so fearfully tormented me last night. I assure your highness I
+was half dead with terror and--"
+
+"And yet you will forgive him, Thusnelda, for the duke is your
+declared favorite; you dare not reproach him were he never so
+insolent, for you are just as much so, and not a hair's-breadth
+better. Come, go up and see what it is."
+
+She went, and found four masons, who had been at work since daybreak
+to remove the wall and replace the door. Thusnelda was obliged to
+laugh in spite of the unhappy night she had passed, as she climbed
+over rubbish and ruins into her room, and met her maid dissolved in
+tears, who related to her that "the duke had had her walled in, for
+fear she would tell the trick to her mistress."
+
+"And so you were really hermetically sealed?" said the duchess.
+
+"Yes, your highness," whimpered the maid, "I thought I never should
+see daylight again. I wept and prayed all night. The only thing that
+consoled me was the duke's command, which Philip brought to me, to
+give this little box to Fraulein so soon as the wall should be taken
+away in the morning."
+
+"Give it to me, Lieschen," cried Thusnelda, impatiently, her face
+beaming with satisfaction, however, when she opened the box. "Now,
+duchess, that is what I call a surprise, and the duke shall be, as
+he ever has been, my favorite. If he does sometimes play rude
+tricks, he makes it all right again, in a very generous and princely
+manner. See what a beautiful watch his highness has brought me,
+ornamented with diamonds!"
+
+"Yes, it is very pretty; give it to me that I may return it to the
+duke, and not mortify him too much, as you will not wear it."
+
+"I will accept it, duchess," cried Thusnelda, laughing--"and all is
+forgiven and forgotten."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+THE PURSE-PROUD MAN.
+
+
+"Trude, is there no news from him yet? Have you never seen him
+since? Did he not tell you about it?"
+
+"No, my dearest Marie," sighed old Trude. "There is no word, no
+message from him. I have been twenty times to the baker's in eight
+days, and waited at the corner of the street, where we agreed to
+meet, but no Moritz was there, and I have not been able to hear any
+thing about him."
+
+"Something must have happened to him," sighed Marie. "He is very
+ill, perhaps dying, and--"
+
+"No, no, my child, he is not ill, I will tell you all about it, if
+you will not worry. I have been to Herr Moritz's lodgings to-day. I
+could not wait any longer, and--"
+
+"Did you see him, and speak with him, Trude?"
+
+"No Marie, he was not there; and the people in the house told me
+that he had been gone for a week."
+
+"Gone!" repeated Marie, thoughtfully. "What does it mean? What could
+persuade him to abandon me in this hour of need? Tell me, Trude,
+what do you think? Console me if you can. You really know nothing
+further than that he is gone?"
+
+"A little bit more, but not much, my heart's child. When the people
+told me that he had disappeared eight days ago, it seemed as if one
+of the Alps had fallen on my heart, and my limbs trembled so I could
+go no farther, and I was obliged to sit down upon the stairs and cry
+bitterly, picturing all sorts of dreadful things to myself."
+
+"Dreadful things?" asked Marie. "Oh, Trude, you do not believe that
+my good, brave Moritz could do any thing sinful and cowardly, like
+wicked men? You do not think that my beloved--oh, no, no--I know
+that he is more noble; he will bear the burden of life as I will, so
+long as it pleases God."
+
+The old woman hung down her head, and humbly folded her hands.
+"Forgive me, my child, that I have such weak and sinful thoughts. I
+will apologize for them in my heart to you and your beloved so long
+as I live. After I had cried enough, I determined to go to the Gray
+Cloister, and beg the director to see me!"
+
+"Did you see him to speak with him, dear good Trude?"
+
+"Yes, dear child. I told him I was an aged aunt of Herr Moritz, who
+had come to Berlin to visit him; and finding that he was absent, I
+would like to know where he had gone, and, how long he would remain
+away."
+
+"Oh, Trude, how clever you are, and how kindly you think of every
+thing!" cried Marie, embracing her old nurse, and kissing
+affectionately her sunburnt, wrinkled cheek. "What did he say?"
+
+"He told me that Herr Moritz had begged permission to be absent
+fourteen days to take an urgent, unavoidable journey; that ten days
+had already expired, and he would soon return."
+
+"Then he will be here in four days, and perhaps will bring hope and
+aid! He has gone to seek it; I know and I feel it, though I cannot
+divine where the assistance will come from. Oh, Trude, if I could
+only gain a favorable delay until Moritz returns!"
+
+"Every thing is arranged," murmured Trude. "The marriage license is
+already made out, and Parson Dietrich has promised to be ready at
+any hour. Herr Ebenstreit has sent the money, doubling the amount
+required to the 'Invalids' Hospital' at Berlin, so that when the
+papers of nobility arrive, there--"
+
+"Hush!" interrupted Marie, "do not speak of it. It is fearful to
+think of, and it crazes me to hear it. I will resort to every
+extreme. Since my father and mother are deaf to my entreaties, I
+will try to move him to pity. I have never been able to see him
+alone; my mother is watchful that an explanation should be
+impossible between us. I will implore this man to have pity upon me,
+and confide in him to whom they would sell me."
+
+Trude shook her head mournfully. "I fear it will be in vain, dear
+child. This man has no heart. I have proved him, and I know it.--
+Hark the bell rings! Who can it be?"
+
+Both stepped out of the little garret-room to peep over the
+banister. Since Marie had been betrothed to the rich banker
+Ebenstreit, the general had received from his kind wife a servant in
+pompous livery for his own service. This servant had already opened
+the door, and Marie heard him announce in a loud voice, "Herr
+Ebenstreit!"
+
+"He!" Marie started back with horror. "He, so early in the morning!
+this is no accident, Trude. What does it mean? Hush! the servant is
+coming!"
+
+"I will go down," whispered Trude; "perhaps I can hear something."
+
+Trude hurried away as her young lady glided back into her room, and
+never glanced at the servant who sprang past her upon the stairs.
+
+"He is a hypocrite and a spy; he has been hired to watch and observe
+my child, and he will betray her if he discovers any thing."
+
+The servant announced, with respectful, humble mien, that Herr
+Ebenstreit had arrived, and Frau von Werrig desired her daughter to
+descend to the parlor.
+
+"Very well--say that I will come directly."
+
+The servant remained rubbing his hands in an undecided, embarrassed
+manner.
+
+"Why do you not go down?" asked Marie. "Have you any thing further
+to tell me?"
+
+"I would say," said he, spying about the room, as if he were afraid
+some one were listening, "that if a poor, simple man like myself
+could be useful to you, and you could confide in me your
+commissions, I should be too happy to prove to you that Carl
+Leberecht is an honest fellow, and has a heart, and it hurts his
+feelings to see the miss suffer so much."
+
+"I thank you," said Marie, gently. "I am glad to feel that you have
+sympathy for me."
+
+"If I can be of the least service to you, have the goodness to call
+me, and give me your commissions."
+
+"Indeed I will, although I do not believe it practicable."
+
+"I hope miss will not betray me to Frau von Werrig or old Trude."
+
+"No, I promise you that, and here is my hand upon it."
+
+The servant kissed the extended hand respectfully. "I will enter
+into the service of my young lady at once, and tell her she must
+prepare for the worst: Herr Ebenstreit just said, 'The diploma of
+nobility has arrived.'"
+
+Marie turned deadly pale, and for an instant it seemed as if she
+would sink down from fright, but she recovered herself and conquered
+her weakness.
+
+"Thank you, it is very well that I should know that; I will go down
+directly," said she.
+
+With calm, proud bearing Marie entered the sitting-room of her
+parents, and returned the salutations of her betrothed, who hastened
+toward her with tender assiduity.
+
+"My dear Marie," cried her mother, "I have the honor to present to
+you Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The certificate of nobility arrived
+this morning."
+
+"I congratulate you, mother--you have at last found the long-desired
+heir to your name."
+
+"Congratulate me above all, my beautiful betrothed," said Herr
+Ebenstreit, in a hoarse, scarcely intelligible voice. "This title
+crowns all my wishes, as it makes me your husband. I came to beg,
+dear Marie, that our marriage should take place to-morrow, as there
+is nothing now to prevent."
+
+"Sir," she proudly interrupted him, "have I ever permitted this
+familiar appellation?"
+
+"I have allowed it," blurted out the general, packed in cushions in
+his roiling chair. "Proceed, my dear son."
+
+The latter bowed with a grateful smile, and continued: "I would beg,
+my dear Marie, to choose whether our wedding-journey shall be in the
+direction of Italy, Spain, France, or wherever else it may please
+her."
+
+"Is it thus arranged?" asked Marie. "Is the marriage to take place
+early to-morrow, and then the happy pair take a journey?"
+
+"Yes," answered her mother, hastily, "it is so decided upon, and it
+will be carried out. You may naturally, my dear daughter, have some
+preference; so make it known--I am sure your betrothed will joyfully
+accord it."
+
+"I will avail myself of this permission," she quietly answered. "I
+wish to have a private conversation with this gentleman immediately,
+and without witnesses."
+
+"Oh, how unfortunate I am!" sighed Herr Ebenstreit. "My dear Marie
+asks just that which I unfortunately cannot grant her."
+
+"What should prevent your fulfilling my wish?" asked Marie.
+
+"My promise," he whined. "On the very day of my betrothal, I was
+obliged to promise my dear mother-in-law never to speak with you
+alone or correspond with my sweet lady-love."
+
+"These are the rules of decency and of etiquette, which I hope my
+daughter will respect," said Frau von Werrig, in a severe tone. "No
+virtuous young girl would presume to receive her betrothed alone or
+exchange love-letters with him before marriage!"
+
+"After the wedding there will be opportunities enough for such
+follies," grumbled the general.
+
+"You may be sure that I shall use them, dear father," laughed
+Ebenstreit. "I would beg my respected mother to release me a half-
+hour from my oath to-day, that I may indulge the first expressed
+wish that my future wife favors me with."
+
+"It is impossible, my son. I never deviate from my principles. You
+will not speak with my daughter before marriage, except in the
+presence of her parents."
+
+"Mother, do you insist upon it?" cried Marie, terrified. "Will you
+not indulge this slight wish?"
+
+"'This slight wish!'" sneered her mother. "As if I did not know why
+you ask this private conversation. You wish to persuade our son-in-
+law to what you in vain have tried to implore your parents to do. A
+modest maiden has nothing to say to her future husband, which her
+parents, and above all her mother, could not hear. So tell your
+betrothed what you desire."
+
+"Well, mother, you must then take the consequences.--Herr
+Ebenstreit, they will force me to become your wife, they will sell
+me as merchandise to you, and you have accepted the bargain in good
+faith, believing that I agree to sacrifice my freedom and human
+rights for riches. They have deceived you, sir! I am not ready to
+give myself up to the highest bidder. I am a woman, with a heart to
+love and hate, who esteems affection superior to wealth. I cannot
+marry you, and I beg you not to teach me to hate you."
+
+A savage curse broke forth from the general, who, forgetting his
+gout, rose furious, shaking his clinched fist at his daughter.
+
+His wife was immediately by his side, and pushed him into his arm-
+chair, commanding him, in her harsh, cold to remain quiet and take
+care of his health, and listen to what his son-in-law had to say to
+his unfeeling and unnatural daughter. "He alone has to decide.--
+Speak, my dear son," said she, turning to the young man, who, with a
+malicious smile, had listened to the baroness, fixing his dull-blue
+eyes upon the young girl, who never seemed so desirable to him, as
+she now stood before him with glowing cheeks.
+
+"Again I say, speak, my dear son, and tell my daughter the truth; do
+you hear, the truth?"
+
+"If you will permit me, my dearest mother, I will," answered
+Ebenstreit, with submissive kindness, again regarding the daughter.
+"You have made me a sad confession, Marie," said he, sighing, "but I
+will acknowledge that I am not surprised, for your mother told me
+when I asked for your hand, that she feared I should never gain your
+consent, for you did not love me, although she herself, and the
+general, would grant theirs."
+
+"Was that all that I told you?" asked the mother, coldly.
+
+"No, not all," continued Ebenstreit, slightly inclining; "you added,
+'My daughter loves a beggar, a poor school-master, and she
+entertains the romantic idea of marrying him.'"
+
+"And what did you reply?" asked Marie, almost breathless.
+
+"My dear Marie, I laughed, repeating my proposal of marriage to your
+mother, saying, that I was ready to take up the combat with the poor
+pedagogue, and that you seemed all the more interesting and amiable
+for this romantic love. Life is so tedious and wretched, that one is
+glad to have some change and distraction. I assure you, I have not
+been so entertained for long years, as in the last fourteen days in
+this silent war with you. It amuses me infinitely to see you so
+stubborn and prudish, and increases my love for you. How could it be
+otherwise? The rich banker, Ebenstreit, has never seen a woman who
+was not ready to accept his hand, and why should he not love the
+first one who resists it? You have excited my self-love and vanity.
+You have made the marriage a matter of ambition, and you will
+comprehend that my answer is: 'Fraulein von Leuthen must and shall
+be my wife, no matter what it costs me. She defies my riches and
+despises money, so I will force her to respect my wealth and
+recognize its power. Besides, she is a cruel, egotistical daughter;
+who has no pity for her poor parents, and is capable of seeing them
+perish for her foolish attachment. I will make her a good child, and
+force her to make her parents, and thereby herself, happy.' All this
+I said to myself, and I have acted and shall act accordingly. I have
+only to add that the ceremony will take place to-morrow, at eleven.
+We will leave immediately after. Have the goodness therefore to
+choose in which direction, that I may at once make the necessary
+arrangements."
+
+"Lost--lost without hope!" cried Marie, in anguish, covering her
+face with her hands.
+
+"Rather say rescued from misfortune," answered Ebenstreit, quietly.
+"Believe me, there is but one sorrow that may not be borne, may not
+be conquered, and that is poverty, which is a corroding, consuming
+malady, annihilating body, and soul, swifter and surer than the most
+subtle poison. It stifles all noble feelings, all poetical thoughts
+and great deeds, and, believe me, love even cannot resist its
+terrible power. One day you will understand this. I will be patient
+and indulgent, and await it with hope."
+
+"Oh, what a noble and high-minded man!" cried the mother, with
+emphasis.--"Marie should kneel and thank her Maker for such a
+magnanimous savior and lover, who will shield her from all evil and
+misfortune."
+
+Sobbing and sighing, the daughter had stood with her face concealed;
+now she regarded the cold-hearted, smiling woman, with flashing eyes
+and keen contempt.
+
+"Thank him!" she cried; "no, I accuse, I curse him. He is an
+atheist, and denies love. He is not capable of a noble thought or
+action, scorning and defaming all that is beautiful and elevated,
+worshipping only mammon. I will never marry him. You may force me to
+the altar, and there I will denounce him."
+
+"She will kill me," cried the general; "she will murder her aged
+parents, leaving them to starve and perish, and--"
+
+"Silence!" commanded his wife. "Leave off your complaints, she is
+not worth the tears or remonstrances of her parents. She would try
+to be our murderess, but she shall not.--My son, inform her of your
+decision. Answer her."
+
+"The response to your romantic language is simple and natural, my
+dear Marie. I have already entered into your feelings, and am
+prepared for this idea of refusing your lover at the altar, which is
+found in novels, and I supposed that it might occur to you. Money
+compasses all things and according to our wishes. My fortune
+procures for me a dispensation from public authorities to be married
+here in the house of our dear parents. The law demands four
+witnesses, who will be represented by your parents, my servant
+Philip, and the sacristan whom the clergyman will bring."
+
+"And they will hear me abjure you."
+
+"It is very possible, dearest, but the witnesses will not listen to
+you. Money makes the deaf to hear, and the hearing ones deaf. Old
+parson Dietrich knows the story of your love, and believes, with us,
+that it is a malady that you must be cured of. Therefore, in pity to
+you, he will not listen, and the others arc paid to keep silent."
+
+"Is there no hope, O Heaven?" cried Marie, imploringly. "O God, Thou
+hast permitted it--hast Thou no pity in my need, and sendest me no
+aid?" Rushing to her father, and kneeling at his feet, she
+continued: "Have mercy upon your poor child! You are an old man, and
+may live but a few years; do not burden your conscience with the
+fearful reproaches of your only child, whom you will condemn to an
+inconsolably long and unhappy life."
+
+"Have you no pity yourself? Do you not know that I, your father, am
+so poor, that I have not even the necessary care? You wish your
+parents to sacrifice themselves for you, and suffer want! No, the
+daughter should sacrifice herself for her parents."
+
+"A beautiful sacrifice, a fine sorrow!" sneered her mother. "She
+will be a rich woman, and have the most splendid house and furniture
+and most costly equipage in Berlin!"
+
+"And a husband who adores her," cried Ebenstreit, "and who will feel
+it his duty to make her and her parents happy. Resolve bravely to
+bury the past, and look the immutable future joyfully in the face.
+Eleven will be the happy hour; fear not that the altar will not be
+worthy the charming bride of such a rich family. Money will procure
+every thing, and I will send a florist who will change this room
+into a blooming temple, fit to receive the goddess of love. In your
+room you will find the gift of my affection, a simple wedding-dress,
+which I trust you will approve of. Oh, do not shake your head, do
+not say that you will never wear it; you must believe that all
+resistance is in vain. You will become my wife, I and my money will
+it."
+
+"And I," cried Marie, standing before him pale and defiant,
+regarding him with unspeakable contempt, "I and my love will it not.
+May God judge between us! May He forgive those who have brought this
+misfortune upon me! I can only say, 'Woe to them!'"
+
+"Woe to you!" cried her mother. "Woe to the seducer who has
+persuaded our child to sin and crime, and--"
+
+"Hush mother! I will not permit you to slander him whom I love, and
+ever shall, so long--"
+
+"Until you forget him, and love me, Marie," said Ebenstreit.
+Approaching her, he seized her hand, and pressed a kiss upon it.
+
+She drew it away with disgust, and turned slowly to the door,
+tossing back her head proudly. "Where are you going?" demanded her
+mother.
+
+With her hand upon the knob, she replied, turning her pale, wan face
+to her mother, "To my own room, which I suppose is permitted to me,
+as there is nothing more to be said."
+
+Her mother would reply, and retain her, but her son-in-law held her
+gently back. "Let her go," said he; "she needs rest for composure
+and to accustom herself to the thought that her fate is
+unavoidable."
+
+"But what if she should resort to desperate means in her mad
+infatuation and foolish passion? Some one must watch her
+continually, for she may try to elope."
+
+"You are right, dearest mother, some one must be with her, in whom
+she will confide. Would it not be possible to win old Trude?"
+
+"No, nothing would gain her; she is a silly fool, who thinks only
+Marie is of consequence."
+
+Ebenstreit shrugged his shoulders. "That means that she would sell
+herself at a high price. I beg that you will send for her."
+
+"You will see," said she, calling the old woman, who entered from
+the opposite door.
+
+Trude looked about, scowling and grumbling. "Leberecht told me my
+mistress called me."
+
+"Why do you then look so furious, and what are you seeking on the
+table?" asked Frau von Werrig.
+
+"My money," cried Trude, vehemently. "I thought that you called me
+to pay me, and that my wages were all counted out on the table. But
+I see there is nothing there, and I fear I shall get none, and be
+poor as a church-mouse all my life long. Your honor promised me
+positively that, as soon as the wedding was decided upon, you would
+pay me every farthing, with interest, and I depended upon it."
+
+"You shall have all, and much more than the general's wife promised
+you, if you will be a true and faithful servant to us," said
+Ebenstreit.
+
+"That I always have been, and ever shall be," snarled Trude. "No
+person can say aught against me. Now, I want my money."
+
+"And obstinate enough you have been too," said her mistress. "Can
+you deny that you have not always taken my daughter's part?"
+
+"I do not deny it. I have nursed her from childhood, and I love her
+as my own child, and would do any thing to make her happy!"
+
+"Do you believe, Trude," cried the general, "that Marie could be
+happy with that poor, starving wretch of a school-master? Has she
+not experienced in her own home the misfortune and shame of
+poverty?"
+
+"I know it well," sighed the old one, sadly, "and it has converted
+me to believe that it would be a great misfortune for Marie to marry
+the poor school-master."
+
+"Well, will you then faithfully help us to prevent it?" quickly
+asked Ebenstreit.
+
+"How can I do it?" she sighed, shrugging her shoulder.
+
+"You can persuade my daughter to be reasonable, and yield to that
+which she cannot prevent. You are the only one who can make any
+impression upon Marie, as she confides in you. Watch her, that in a
+moment of passionate desperation she does not commit some rash act.
+You can tell us, further, what she says, and warn us of any crazy
+plan she might form to carry out her own will."
+
+"That is to say, I must betray my Marie?" cried Trude, angrily.
+
+"No, not betray, but rescue her. Will you do it?" asked Ebenstreit.
+
+"I wish to be paid my wages, my two hundred thalers, that I have
+honestly earned, and I will have them."
+
+Ebenstreit took a piece of paper from his pocket. Writing a few
+lines with a pencil, he laid it upon the table. "If you will take
+this to my cashier after the ceremony to-morrow, he will pay you
+four hundred thalers."
+
+"Four hundred thalers in cash," cried Trude, joyfully clapping her
+hands. "Shall all that beautiful money be mine, and--No, I do not
+believe you," she cried, her face reassuming its gloomy, suspicious
+look. "You promise it to me to-day, that I may assist you, and
+persuade Marie to the marriage, but to-morrow, when old Trude is of
+no more use, you will send me away penniless. Oh, I know how it is.
+I have lived long enough to understand the tricks of rich people. I
+will see the cash first--only for that will I sell myself."
+
+"The old woman pleases me," said Ebenstreit. "She is practical, and
+she is right.--If I promise you the money in an hour, will you
+persuade Marie to cease her foolish resistance, and be my wife? Will
+you watch over her, and tell us if any thing unusual occurs?"
+
+"Four hundred thalers is a pretty sum," repeated Trude, in a low
+voice to herself. "I might buy myself a place in the hospital, and
+have enough left to get me a new bed and neat furniture and--"
+
+Here her voice was lost in unintelligible mumbling, and, much
+excited, she appeared to count eagerly. With her bony forefinger she
+numbered over the fingers of her left hand, as if each were a
+fortune that she must verify and examine.
+
+The mother and the banker regarded each other with mocking looks;
+the general looked at the money, grumbling: "If I had had four
+hundred thalers the last time I played, I could have won back my
+money in playing again."
+
+"Old woman," said Ebenstreit, "have you not finished with your
+reckoning?"
+
+"Yes," she said, with an exultant laugh, "I have done! Four hundred
+thalers are not sufficient. I must have five, and if you will give
+them to me in cash in an hour, then I will do every thing that you
+wish, and persuade Marie to the marriage. I will watch her day and
+night, and tell you every thing that she says and does. But I must
+have five hundred in cash!"
+
+Ebenstreit turned his dull-blue eyes to Frau von Werrig with a
+triumphant smile. "Did you not tell me the old woman could not be
+bought? I knew that I was right. You did not offer her money enough;
+she will sell herself dear as possible."
+
+"Yes, as dear as she can," laughed Trude--"five hundred is my
+price."
+
+"You shall have it in cash in an hour," said Ebenstreit, in a
+friendly manner.
+
+"So much money," whined the general; "it would have saved me if I
+had had it that last time."
+
+"My son-in-law, I must confess you are exceedingly generous,"
+remarked the mother.
+
+"No sum would be too great to assure me my bride. Go now, Trude, you
+shall have the money in time.--Will you allow me, father, to send
+your servant to my office for it?"
+
+"Send Leberecht here, Trude!"
+
+The old woman hurried out of the room, but the door once closed, her
+manner changed. One might have supposed a sudden cramp had seized
+her, from her distorted face, and twitching and panting, and beating
+the air with her clinched fists, and her quivering lips uttering
+broken words.
+
+Approaching footsteps warned her to assume her general manner and
+expression, and cease her manipulations. "The ladies and gentlemen
+wish you in the parlor," mumbled Trude to the servant descending the
+stairs. "But where have you been, and what have you to do up there?"
+
+"I was looking for you, lovely one--nothing more!"
+
+"Well, now you have found me, tell me what you want? I know you were
+sneaking about, listening, because you thought I was with Marie. I
+understand you better than you think I do. I have found many a
+viper, and I am familiar with their aspect. Go! they are waiting for
+you, and let me find you again spying about, and I will throw a pail
+of water on you!"
+
+With this friendly assurance Trude dismissed Leberecht, and hastened
+with youthful activity to the little garret-room, when Marie fell
+upon her neck, weeping bitterly.
+
+"Calm yourself--do not weep so--it breaks my heart, my dear child."
+
+"And mine cannot break. I must endure all this anguish and survive
+this shame. Help me, my good mother, stand by me! It is impossible
+for me to marry that dreadful man. I have sworn constancy to my
+beloved Moritz, and I must be firm, or die!"
+
+"Die? then you will kill me!" murmured the old one, "for, if you go,
+I must go also. But we will not give up yet, as we are both living;
+we will not despair for life. I am going once more to Moritz's
+lodgings; it may be he has returned, and will rescue you."
+
+"Oh, do, good Trude; tell him that I have courage and determination
+to risk and bear every thing--that I will await him; that nothing
+would be too difficult or dangerous to serve to unite me to him!
+Tell him that I prefer a life of poverty and want by his side, to
+abundance and riches in a splendid palace with that detested
+creature--but no, say nothing about it, he knows it well! If he has
+returned, tell him all that has happened, and that I am resolved to
+brave the utmost, to save myself!"
+
+"I will go, dear child, but I have first my work to do, and enough
+of it too--but listen to what they have made me become." Hastily, in
+a low voice, she related to Marie the story of her corruption,
+excited as before, her limbs shaking and her fists clinched. "They
+say we old women resemble cats, but from to-day forth I know that is
+a shameful lie! If I had possessed their nature and claws, I should
+have sprung at the throat of this rascal, and torn out his windpipe;
+but, instead of that, I stood as if delighted with his degrading
+proposal! Oh, fie! the good-for-nothing kidnapper would tempt a poor
+creature! Let us wait, they will get their reward. He shall pay me
+the five hundred thalers, and then this trader of hearts shall
+recognize that, however much ill-earned money he may throw away,
+love and constancy are hot to be bought. We will teach him a
+lesson," and with this, the old servant ceased, gasping for breath.
+
+"Go now, Trude, and learn if he has returned; upon him depends my
+happiness, and life even--he is my last hope!"
+
+"I am going, but first I would get the wages of my sin, and play the
+hypocrite, and tell a few untruths; then I will go to Moritz's
+lodgings, and the baker also. Do not despair; I have a joyful
+presentiment that God will have pity upon us and send us aid." Trude
+kissed and embraced her child, and scarcely waited an hour, when she
+was demanded in the parlor to receive her money.
+
+Herr Ebenstreit was heartily delighted with her zealous impatience,
+and handed her ten rolls of gold, reminding her of the conditions.
+
+"I have already consoled her a little, and she begins to change. I
+hope every thing will turn for good. Just leave her alone with me."
+
+"But first, I must go and see my aged brother, who will take care of
+my money," replied Trude. "He is a safe man and will not spend it."
+
+"Trude," cried the general, "what an old fool! to seek at distance
+what is so near you. I will take your money, and give you interest.
+Do you hear? I will take care of it!"
+
+"Thank you, general, I'd rather give it to my brother, on account of
+the relationship." She slipped out of the room, hid the money in her
+bed, and hurriedly left the house.
+
+Scarcely an hour passed ere Trude returned as fleetly as she went.
+She cast only a look into the kitchen, and hastened up to Marie's
+room. Her success was evident in her happy, smiling face, and coming
+home she had repeated to herself, "How happy Marie will be!" almost
+the entire way.
+
+She had but closed the door, when the mean little Leberecht glided
+from behind the chimney, and crept to listen at the door.
+
+Within was a lively conversation, and twice a shout of joy was heard
+and Marie, exultant, cried, "Oh, Trude! dear Trude! all goes well, I
+fear nothing now. God has sent me the savior which I implored!"
+
+Leberecht stood, bent over, applying his ear to the keyhole,
+listening to every word.
+
+Oh, Trude! if you could only have seen the traitor, glued to the
+door, with open eyes and mouth! Could you have seen the eavesdropper
+rubbing his hands together, grinning, and listening in breathless
+suspense!
+
+Why cannot you surprise him, Trude, and fulfil your threat to deluge
+him and chase him away from your child's door? They forgot the
+necessity of prudence, and the possibility of being overheard. At
+last it occurred to the old servant, and she tore open the door, but
+no one was there--it was deserted and still.
+
+"God be thanked, no one has listened," whispered Trude. "I will go
+down and tell them that I hope, if we can stay alone all day, you
+will be calmer and more reasonable."
+
+"Do it, Trude; I do not dare to see any one for fear my face will
+betray me, and my mother has very sharp eyes. Return soon."
+
+She opened the door, and saw not the eavesdropper and spy, who had
+but just time to conceal himself, and stand maliciously grinning at
+the retreating figure of the faithful servant.
+
+He slipped lightly from his hiding-place down to his sleeping-room,
+in a niche under the stairs. For a long time he reflected, upon his
+bedside--his watery blue eyes staring at nothing. "This must be well
+considered," he mumbled. "There is, at last, a capital to be won.
+Which shall I do first, to grasp a good deal? Shall I wait, or go at
+once to Herr Ebenstreit? Very naturally they would both deny it, and
+say that I had made up the whole story to gain money. I had better
+let the affair go on: they can take a short drive, and when they are
+about an hour absent, I will sell my secret at a higher price. Now I
+will pretend to be quite harmless, and after supper let the bomb
+burst!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+THE ELOPEMENT.
+
+
+Evening had set in. The card-table had been arranged, and Leberecht
+had rolled his master to it, taking his place behind his chair. The
+hour of whist the general impatiently awaited the entire day, and it
+was regularly observed. Even in the contract with his adopted son it
+had been expressly mentioned as a duty, that he should not only
+secure to them yearly income, but also devote an hour to cards every
+evening.
+
+Herr Ebenstreit regarded it as a tax, which he must observe until
+married. The general was much his superior at cards, and, moreover,
+played the dummy, and the stake being high, it was quite an income
+for the future father-in-law, and regarded by him as the one bright
+spot in his daily life.
+
+The cards had been dealt, and Leberecht had assorted the general's,
+and placed them in his gouty hand, when Trude entered, exultingly.
+
+"What has happened? What makes you interrupt us?" cried the general.
+"Did you not remember that I have told you always not to disturb us
+at this hour."
+
+"Yes, general, but I thought good news was never amiss."
+
+"What have you pleasant to tell us?" harshly demanded Frau von
+Werrig.
+
+"My young lady's compliments," cried Trude, triumphantly; "she
+begins to see that she must yield to her fate, and that it will do
+no good to resist any longer. She will be ready for the ceremony at
+eleven o'clock to-morrow morning."
+
+The general uttered a cry of joy, and struck the table so violently,
+with his hand, that the cards were thrown together.
+
+His wife bowed dignifiedly, and the happy bridegroom gave old Trude
+some gold-pieces upon the favorable news.
+
+"Has she, then, been converted by your persuasion?" he asked.
+
+"Through my persuasion and her own good sense. She understands that,
+if she cannot marry her dear Moritz, Herr Ebenstreit is the most fit
+husband, because he loves her, and is so generous to her old
+parents. One thing she would like an answer to--can I accompany her
+to her new home?"
+
+"Yes, old woman, it will be very agreeable to have so sensible a
+person," said Ebenstreit. "Tell Marie that it gives me pleasure to
+fulfil her wish."
+
+"In that case I would repeat that Fraulein begs for indulgence and
+forbearance until to-morrow, and would like to remain alone to
+compose herself."
+
+"I do not wish, in the least, to see her," said her mother; "she can
+do what she likes until then."
+
+"I will tell Marie, and she will rejoice," cried Trude.
+
+"Tell her, from her father, that it is very agreeable to him not to
+see her pale, wretched-looking face again till morning.--Now, my
+son, pay attention, and you, Trude, do not presume to interrupt us
+again. Leberecht, play out my ace of hearts."
+
+The latter, with his eyes cast down, and with a perfectly
+indifferent manner, played the card indicated, and Trude left the
+room quietly and unobserved.
+
+"Every thing is arranged, my child," said Trude, as she re-entered
+Marie's room. "They are playing cards, which always lasts two hours,
+then Herr Ebenstreit goes away, and the family will go to bed. You
+have eighteen hours, before you will be discovered. Hark! it strikes
+seven, and it is already quite dark. When the post-horn sounds, then
+it is time."
+
+"Oh, Trude! my dear mother, my heart almost ceases to beat, with
+anxiety, and I quake with fear," sighed Marie. "I am conscious that
+I have commenced a fearful undertaking!"
+
+"They have driven you to it--it is not your fault," said Trude,
+consolingly. "Every human being is free to work out his own good or
+bad fortune, and, as our dear Old Fritz says, 'to be happy in the
+future world in his own way.' They have sold you for money, and you
+only prove to them that you are no slave."
+
+"And I prove also that I am a disobedient daughter," added Marie,
+trembling. "At this hour, it weighs like a heavy burden upon my
+heart, and the words of Holy Writ burn into my very soul--'Honor thy
+father and thy mother, that it may be well with thee.'"
+
+"You have honored them all your life," said Trude, solemnly; "I can
+witness it before God and man. You have worked for them without
+thanks or love, receiving only contempt. It is also written, 'Thou
+shalt leave father and mother, and cleave unto thy husband.' You
+still follow the commands of God, and may it bring you happiness and
+blessing. My prayers and thoughts go with you, my child! a mother
+could not love her offspring more tenderly than I do you."
+
+"No mother could more tenderly and faithfully care for her than you
+have for me, Trude," cried Marie, pressing her lovingly to her
+breast. "Through you alone is my rescue possible, for you give us
+the money to undertake the long journey."
+
+"Not I," she laughed; "it is Herr Ebenstreit, and that makes it the
+more amusing; the wicked always set the traps into which they fall
+themselves." Suddenly the loud, quivering tones of the post-horn
+were heard, "Es ritten drei Reiter zum Thore hinaus."
+
+"He has come!" cried Marie, and her face beamed with delight. "He
+calls me! I am coming!--Farewell, dear, peaceful room, where I have
+so toiled, wept, and suffered! I shall never see thee again! My
+beloved calls me, and I go to follow him even unto death! Pardon me,
+O God! Thou seest that I cannot do otherwise! They would force me to
+perjury, and I dare not break my oath! I cannot forsake him whom I
+love!--When they curse me, Trude, kneel, and implor God to bless me,
+who is the Father of love! My conscience does not reproach me. I
+have worked for them when they needed it; now their adopted son, to
+whom they have sold their name, allows them a yearly rent, and I can
+work for myself."
+
+"Hark! there is the post-horn again, you must go," murmured Trude,
+struggling to force back her tears.
+
+"Bless me, mother," implored Marie, kneeling.
+
+"God's blessing go with you," she said, laying her hands upon her
+head, "and may it render of no avail the curses of men, but permit
+you to walk in love and happiness!"
+
+"Amen, amen!" sighed Marie, "now farewell, dear mother, farewell!"
+
+Marie rose, and kissing Trude again, flitted down the stairs, and
+out of the house, Trude following, holding her breath and listening
+in fearful excitement.
+
+Again resounded the post-horn.
+
+"They are gone," murmured Trude, bowing her head and praying long
+and fervently.
+
+The general was particularly fortunate this evening, which caused
+him to be unusually cheerful and satisfied. After every rubber he
+gathered up the thalers, until he had amassed a most satisfactory
+pile. As the clock struck ten, Frau von Werrig declared that they
+must finish and go to bed.
+
+The general yielded, with a sigh, to her decision, for he knew, by
+long years of experience, that it would be in vain to defy her will.
+He shoved his winnings into a leather bag, which he always carried
+with him, and gave Leberecht the order to roll away his chair, when
+the servant, with a solemn bow, stepped closely to him, and begged
+the general to listen to him a moment.
+
+"Well, what have you to say?" he asked.
+
+"I have only one request--that you will permit me to prove that I am
+a faithful servant, who looks out for the good of his employers. You
+have given Trude five hundred thalers that she might watch over your
+daughter. I can show you how well she deserved it, and how
+differently your humble servant would have done.--Have the goodness,
+Frau yon Werrig, to call Trude to bid Fraulein come down, for you
+have something important to communicate to her."
+
+His mistress proudly regarded him and seemed to try to read his
+meaning in his smiling, humble face. "And if my daughter comes, what
+have you to say?"
+
+"If she comes, then I am a miserable fool and scoundrel, but I beg
+you to call Trude."
+
+It was a long time before the old woman appeared, confused and
+sleepy, asking--"what they wanted at such a late hour?"
+
+"Go and tell my daughter that I wish to see her at once."
+
+Trude trembled, but composed herself, saying, "There is time enough
+to-morrow. Fraulein has been asleep a long time."
+
+"She lies," sneered Leberecht, taking the precaution to protect
+himself behind the general's arm-chair. "She knows that she is not
+in bed."
+
+"Oh, you sneak, you rascal," cried Trude, shaking her fist at him,
+"how dare you say that I tell a lie? How can such a miserable
+creature as you impute to others what you do yourself every time
+that you open your mouth?"
+
+"Frau yon Werrig, she is only quarrelling, in order to gain time--
+every moment is precious. I beg you to go up-stairs, and see for
+yourself, if your daughter is there."
+
+"Fraulein has locked the door so as not to be disturbed."
+
+"Ah," said Leberecht, "Trude has locked it, and has the key in her
+pocket."
+
+"Give up the key," shrieked the general, who in vain tried to rise,
+"or I will call the police, and send you to prison."
+
+"Do it, but I will not give it to you."
+
+"Do you not see she has it?" cried Leberecht.
+
+"Oh, you wretch, I will pay you--I will scratch your eyes out, you
+miserable creature!"
+
+"Trude, be quiet," commanded Ebenstreit; "the general orders to give
+up the key--do it!"
+
+"Yes, do it at once," shrieked Frau von Werrig, "or I will dismiss
+you from my service."
+
+"That you will not have to do, as I shall go myself. I will not give
+up the key."
+
+"The door is old, and with a good push one could open it," said
+Leberecht.
+
+"Come, my son, let us see," said the mother.
+
+They hastened up to the room, while the general scolded, furiously
+that he must sit still. Leberecht and Trude cast furious, menacing
+glances at each other.
+
+Suddenly a loud crash was heard.
+
+"They have broken open the door!" cried the general.
+
+"I said that it was old and frail--what do you say now, beautiful
+Trude?"
+
+The old woman wiped with her hand the drops of perspiration from her
+forehead, caused by her anguish. "You are a bad fellow, and God will
+punish you for your treason, that you have tormented a noble,
+unhappy girl. I saw that you were an eavesdropper, and you know
+all."
+
+"She is gone!" shrieked the mother, rushing into the room.
+
+"The room is empty," cried Ebenstreit. "Marie is not there. Tell us,
+Leberecht, what you know about it."
+
+"I will, if we can agree about the pay--the old woman bothers me,
+and beg the young gentleman to go into the next room with me."
+
+"O Almighty God, have compassion upon my poor little Marie,"
+murmured Trude, kneeling, and covering her face.
+
+Ebenstreit in the mean time withdrew to the other room, followed by
+the servant.
+
+"Speak!" commanded his master, "and tell me what you have to say."
+
+Leberecht shrugged his shoulders. "We are two men who have urgent
+business with each other. I am not at present a servant and you the
+master. I am a man who has an important secret to sell, and you are
+the man who would buy it."
+
+"What strange, unheard-of language is this?" said Ebenstreit,
+astonished.
+
+"The language of a man who cannot only deprive the rich banker
+Ebenstreit of a lovely wife, but of his title also. You said
+yourself, sir, this morning, that it was only valid if you succeeded
+in marrying the daughter of General von Leuthen. No none knows where
+you can find your bride but me."
+
+"And Trude," said Ebenstreit, quickly.
+
+"You know she will not betray Fraulein, and you have not even tried
+to make her."
+
+"You are mistaken; Trude is as easily bought as any one."
+
+"You say that because she has taken five hundred thalers from you.
+She has not helped you, and it is useless to ask for your money, as
+she has not got it."
+
+"How so? Has she given it away?"
+
+"You provided the money for your bride to run away and marry
+elsewhere, as Trude gave it to them."
+
+Ebenstreit stamped his foot with rage, striding backward and forward
+in furious excitement, while Leberecht watched him, sardonically
+smiling. "Let us come to an end with this business," said
+Ebenstreit, stopping before his servant. "You know where Fraulein
+can be found, and you wish to sell the secret--tell me your price."
+
+"Three thousand thalers, and a clerkship in your bank, which you
+intend to continue under another name."
+
+"You are beside yourself. I am not so foolish as to grant such
+senseless demands."
+
+"Every hour that you wait I demand a thousand thalers more, and if
+you stop to reflect long your betrothed and your title both are
+lost."
+
+"You are a miserable scamp!" cried Ebenstreit, enraged; "I will
+inform the police. There are means enough to force you to give the
+information."
+
+"I do not believe it. Trude will not tell you, and I should like to
+know what can force me if I will not. The king has done away with
+torture, and I have informed you how to make me speak. Three
+thousand thalers and a clerkship in your office. Take care! it is
+almost eleven o'clock--at midnight I shall demand four thousand."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+UNDER THE STARRY HEAVENS.
+
+
+It was a beautiful, clear, moonlight night. The world reposed in
+silence. Mankind with their cares and sorrows, their joys and hopes,
+had gone to rest. Over town and village, over highway and forest had
+flitted the sweet, consoling angel--Sleep. The sad were soothed, the
+heavy-laden were lightened of their burdens, to the despairing were
+brought golden dreams, to the weary rest. Sighing and sorrowful, he
+turned from those with a sad face whose conscience banished repose,
+and, ah! their number was legion. To the wakeful and blissful he
+smilingly glanced, breathing a prayer and a blessing; but these were
+few and far between--for happiness is a rare guest, and tarries with
+mortals but fitfully. As he glided past the joyful couple who, with
+watchful love and grateful hearts, sat in the carriage rolling over
+the silent, deserted highway, two tears fell from his eyes, and his
+starry wings were wider outspread to rush more quickly past.
+
+"Look, my dear Marie, two stars just fell from heaven. They are a
+greeting to you, loved one, and they would say they guide us on our
+way."
+
+"Oh, Philip, it is a sign of ill-luck! Falling stars betoken
+misfortune!"
+
+She clung closer to his side, and laid her head upon his shoulder.
+He pressed her more lovingly to his heart. "Do not fear, dear Marie;
+separation only could cause us unhappiness--we have long borne it,
+and now it is forever past. You have given yourself to me for my
+own, and I am yours, heart and soul; we speed on through the night
+to the morning of the bright, sunny future, never more te be
+parted."
+
+"Never!" she fervently murmured. "Oh, may God hear our prayer.
+Never, never to part! Yet, while the word falls from my lips, a
+shudder creeps through my soul."
+
+"Wherefore this despair, dearest? Reflect, no one will be apprised
+of our flight till early morning, and then they will not know
+whither we have fled. Meanwhile we rush on to Hamburg, where a
+packet-ship sails every Wednesday for England; arriving there, we
+will first go to Suffolk, to my old friend the vicar of Tunningham.
+I was his guest many weeks last year, and he often related to me the
+privilege which had been conferred on the parish church for a long
+time to perform valid marriages for those to whose union there were
+obstacles interposed elsewhere. He will bless the union of our love,
+and will accord me the lawful right to call you my own before God
+and man. We will not return at once to Germany. I have many
+connections and literary friends in London, who will assist me to
+worthy occupation. Besides, I closed an agreement some weeks since
+with the publisher Nicolai in Berlin for a new work. I will write it
+in London; it will be none the less favored coming from a distance."
+
+"My flowers and paintings will also be as well received in as in
+Berlin," added Marie, smilingly.
+
+"No, Marie, you shall not work. I shall have the precious care of
+providing for you, which will be my pride and happiness. Oh, my
+beloved, what a crowning bliss to possess a sweet, dear wife, who is
+only rich in imperishable treasures, and poor in external riches!
+What delight to toil for her, and feel that there lives in my
+intellect the power to grant her every wish, and to compensate her
+in the slightest degree the boundless wealth of her affection! To a
+loving mind there is no prouder, happier feeling than to be the only
+source of support to the wife of his love--to know that she looks to
+him for the fulfilment of her slightest wish in life. I thank my
+Maker that you are poor, Marie, and that I am permitted to toil for
+you. How else could I reward you for all you have sacrificed for
+me?"
+
+"You cannot suppose, dear Philip, that the riches of my obtrusive
+lover would have been any attraction to me. Money could never
+compensate for the loss of your love. You are my life, and from you
+alone can I receive happiness or unhappiness. At your side I am rich
+and joyous, though we may outwardly need; without you I should be
+poor with superfluity. I am proud that we in spirit have freed
+ourselves from those fictitious externals with which the foolish
+burden themselves. Oh, my beloved Philip, my whole soul is exultant
+that we are never more to part--no, not even in eternity, for I
+believe that love is an undying sentiment, and the soul can never be
+darkened by death which is beaming with affection."
+
+"You are right, Marie, love is the immortality of the soul; through
+it man is regenerated and soars to the regions of eternal light.
+When I recall how desolate and gloomy was my life, how joyless the
+days dragged on before I loved you, I almost menaced Heaven that it
+created me to wander alone through this desert. The brightest sun's
+rays now gild my future, and it seems as if we were alone in
+paradise, and that the creation entire glorified my happiness, and
+all the voices of Nature shouted a greeting to you, dearest. Oh,
+Marie, if I lived a thousand years, my heart would retain its
+youthful love and adoration for you, who have saved me from myself,
+have freed my soul from the constraining fetters of a sad, joyless
+existence. Repose your head upon my heart, and may it rest there
+many happy years, and receive in this hour my oath to love, esteem,
+and honor you as my most precious treasure! You shall be wife,
+child, sister, and friend. My soul shall be frank and open to you;
+for you I will strive and toil, and will cherish and foster the
+happiness received from you as my most treasured gift. Give me your
+hand, Marie."
+
+She laid it within his own strong, manly hand, gently pressing it.
+
+The large full moon, high above them, lighted up these noble faces,
+making the eyes, which were bent upon each other, more radiant.
+Swiftly the carriage rolled on, the night-breeze fanning their
+cheeks and waving back their raven curls.
+
+Moritz raised their clasped hands, and gazed at the starry heaven.
+
+"We lift them up unto Thee, O God. Thou hast heard my oath, O
+Eternal Spirit, who dwellest among the stars; receive it, and bless
+the woman I love!"
+
+"Receive also my oath, O my Maker. Regard the man to whom I have
+sworn eternal fidelity, bless him, and bless me. Let us live in love
+and die in constancy."
+
+Moritz responded, "Amen, my beloved, amen!"
+
+They embraced each other fervently. Onward rolled the carriage
+through the tranquil, blissful night. Oh why cannot these steeds
+borrow wings from the night-wind? Why cannot the soaring spirit bear
+aloft its earthly tenement? With divine joy and heavenly confidence
+you gaze at the stars. You smilingly interchange thoughts of the
+blissful future, whilst dire misfortune approaches, and will soon
+seize you in its poisonous grasp! Do you not hear it? Does not the
+echo of swift-prancing steeds ring in your ears? Do you not hear the
+shrieking and calling after you?
+
+They listen only to the voice of tenderness speaking in their
+hearts, and would that the solemn quiet of this dialogue might not
+be broken by a loud word from their lips.
+
+The post-horn sounded! They halted at a lonely house near the
+highway. It is the station. Change horses! There is not a light to
+be seen. Three times the postilion blew a pealing blast ere they
+could awake the inmates. The window was at last opened, and a
+sleepy, complaining voice questioned the number of horses and the
+distance of the next post.
+
+Slowly they were brought forward, and still more slowly were they
+attached to the carriage, and all arranged. What matters it? The
+night is lovely, and like a dream it seems to remain under the
+starry heavens, spread out like a canopy above them.
+
+Does not your heart tell you that sorrow strides on like the storm?
+Do you not hear the voices still shrieking after you?
+
+The postilion mounted his horse, and again the trumpet pealed forth
+its merry air, and was answered with a shout of triumph from the
+swift pursuers.
+
+Marie raised her head from Philip's shoulder. "What was it? Did you
+not hear it?"
+
+"What, my beloved, what should I hear? Do the stars salute you? Do
+the angels greet their sister upon earth?"
+
+"Hark! there it is again! Do you not hear it? Listen! does it not
+seem as if one called 'Halt! halt!'"
+
+"Yes, truly, I hear it now also! What can happen, love? Why trouble
+ourselves about the outer world and the existence of other beings?"
+
+"I know not, but I am so anxious, my heart almost ceases to beat,
+with terror!"
+
+"Halt! halt!" the wind carries forward the shriek, and above their
+heads it sounds like the screeching of ravens.
+
+"Strange! For whom are they calling?" Moritz looked back along the
+highway. White and clear it lay in the moonlight, but, far in the
+distance was a black mass, taking form and shape at every moment!
+
+Horsemen! horsemen! in full speed they come!
+
+"Postilion! drive on! quick! Let the horses gallop! There is a
+forest near--drive us to that, that we may hide ourselves in the
+thicket! Onward, postilion! we are not thieves or murderers. A
+hundred thalers are yours, if you save us!"
+
+The postilion beat his horses! In full chase they followed--more and
+more distinctly were heard the curses and yells.
+
+"Oh, God in heaven, have mercy upon us in our need!"
+
+"Faster, postilion!--in mercy, faster!"
+
+"Halt! halt!--in the name of the king, halt!"
+
+This startled the postilion, and he turned to listen, and again a
+furious voice yelled, "In the name of the king, halt!"
+
+The postilion drew up. "Forgive me, sir, but I must respect the name
+of the king."
+
+Forward galloped the horsemen.
+
+"Philip," whispered Marie, "why do we live--why do we not die?"
+
+He folded her in his arms, and passionately kissed her, perhaps for
+the last time. "Marie, be mindful of our oath--constant unto death!"
+
+"Constant unto death!" she repeated.
+
+"Be firm and defy all the storms of life!"
+
+Marie repeated it, with heightened courage.
+
+The horsemen surrounded the carriage, the riders upon panting
+steeds! Two officers in uniform sprang to the side, laying their
+hands upon Moritz's shoulder. "Conrector Philip Moritz, we arrest
+you in the name of the king! You are accused of eloping with a
+minor, and we are commanded to transport you to Spandau until
+further orders!" Upon the other side two other horsemen halted. The
+foremost was Herr Ebenstreit, who laid his hand upon Marie, and saw
+not or cared not that she shudderingly shrank away.
+
+"My dear Marie, I come as the ambassador of your parents, and am
+fully empowered to lead your back to your father's house."
+
+She answered not, but sat immovable and benumbed with terror, the
+tears rolling down her cheeks.
+
+"You arrest me in the name of the king," cried Moritz; I bow to the
+law. I beg only to speak to that man," pointing to Ebenstreit, with
+contempt. "Sir, dismount, I have important business with you!"
+
+"We have nothing to say to each other," answered Ebenstreit, calmly.
+
+"But I!" cried Moritz, springing forward, furious as a lion, "I have
+something to say to you, you rascal, and I will treat you
+accordingly!"
+
+He savagely tore the whip from the postilion's hand, and struck
+Ebenstreit in the face. "Now," cried he, triumphantly, "I have
+forced you to give me satisfaction!"
+
+The police swung themselves from their saddles, and Leberecht
+quickly dismounted. They clinched Moritz by the feet and hands. It
+was a desperate struggle, and Marie gazed at them with folded hands,
+praying without words. They seized him and held him fast with
+manacles. A shriek, and Marie sank fainting. Moritz's head sank upon
+his breast, almost in the agony of death.
+
+"Take him to the next station, my friends," commanded Ebenstreit,
+"the carriage is already ordered to remove him to Spandau." He
+dismounted, and now took the place by Marie, who still lay in a dead
+faint. "Postilion, mount and turn your carriage, I retain you until
+the next station. If you drive quickly, there is a louis d'or for
+you."
+
+"I will drive as if the devil were after me, sir!" shouted the
+postilion, and turned to gallop off, when Ebenstreit ordered him to
+halt, and Leberecht to get up on the box.
+
+Then turning to the officers, "Gentlemen," said he, proudly, "you
+are witnesses to the ill-treatment and insults of this woman-
+stealer. You will certify that the blood flowed down my face."
+
+"I will myself make it known before all men," cried Moritz, with a
+contemptuous laugh. "I have insulted you and branded you."
+
+"We will give our evidence," respectfully replied the officers. "As
+soon as we have delivered our prisoner at Spandau, we will announce
+ourselves to you."
+
+"Then you will receive from me the promised reward of a hundred
+thalers. If you hush up the entire adventure, so that it is not
+noised about, after three months, still another hundred."
+
+"We will be silent, Herr Ebenstreit."
+
+"I believe you; a hundred thalers is a pretty sum. Forward,
+Leberecht, make the postilion push on, that we may arrive in Berlin
+before daybreak, and no one know of this abominable affair."
+
+The postilion laughed with delight, at the thought of the louis
+d'or. Upon the box sat Leberecht, a smile of malicious triumph upon
+his face. "This has been a lucky night," said he; "we have all done
+a good business, but I am the most fortunate, with my three thousand
+thalers and a fine place. I wish he had waited an hour later, and
+then I should have had another thousand!"
+
+Ebenstreit sat with triumphant smile also, by his betrothed. "Money
+is the king of the world--with it one can accomplish all things,"
+said he to himself; "if I had been a poor fellow, the general would
+not have chosen me, nor the king have given me a title, nor could I
+have won back my beautiful bride. Money gives position, and I hope
+will give me the power to revenge myself for the pain in my face."
+He turned menacingly toward Moritz, who saw it not.
+
+With bowed head, speechless, as if numb with the horror of his
+misfortune, he rode with fettered hands between the two officers,
+incapable of fleeing, as they had even bound a cord around his arms,
+each end held fast by one of the riders.
+
+The stars and the moon shone down upon him as brightly beautiful as
+an hour previous. Oh, Marie, you were right, falling stars betoken
+misfortune! Your star has fallen!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+THE SACRIFICE.
+
+
+Since that painful night, four weeks had passed, four long ones to
+poor old Trude. To her beloved child they had fled in happy
+unconsciousness. In the delirium of fever, her thoughts wandered to
+her lover, always dwelling upon her hopes and happiness. In the
+intervals of reason she asked for him with fearful excitement and
+anxiety, then again her mind was clouded, and the cry of anguish was
+changed into a smile.
+
+Then came the days of convalescence and the return to consciousness,
+and with it the mourning over crushed hopes. Slowly had Trude, the
+faithful nurse, who watched by her bedside day and night, answered
+her excited questions, and to her little by little the circumstances
+of the elopement--how Leberecht had played the eavesdropper and sold
+Marie's secret for gold; how he had previously arranged to pursue
+them, informing the police, ordering the horses, and sending forward
+a courier to provide fresh relays at every station.
+
+Trude depicted the anger of her father and the threats of her mother
+to send her to prison. But before she could execute her purpose,
+Ebenstreit had brought home the unconscious child, and she herself
+had lifted her from the carriage and borne her, with the aid of her
+mistress, to her own little attic room.
+
+Marie listened to these relations with a gloomy calmness and a
+defiant sorrow. Illness had wrought a peculiar change in her mind,
+and hardened the gentle, tender feelings of the young girl. Grief
+had steeled her soul, benumbed her heart, and she had risen from her
+couch as one born anew to grief and torture. Her present situation
+and lost happiness had changed the young, loving, tenderly-sensitive
+maiden to the courageous, energetic, and defiant woman, who
+recognized a future of self-renunciation, combat, and resignation.
+
+Trude observed these changes with disquietude and care. She wished
+Marie would only once complain, or burst into tears. After the first
+storm of despair had passed, the tears refused to flow, and her eyes
+were bright and undimmed. Only once had profound emotion been
+awakened, as Trude asked her if she had forgotten her unhappy lover,
+and cared no more to learn his fate. It had the desired effect.
+
+A deathly paleness overspread her delicate, transparent cheek. "I
+know how he is," she said, turning away her face, "I realize his
+sufferings by my own. We are miserable, lost--and no hope but in
+death. Ere this comes, there is a desert to traverse in heat, and
+dust, and storm, and frost, alone, without consolation or support.
+Hush, Trude! do not seek to revive miserable hopes. I know my fate,
+and I will endure it. Tell me what you know about him? Where is he?
+Have they accused him? Speak! do not fear to tell me every thing!"
+But fearing herself, she threw her handkerchief quickly over her
+face, and sat with it covered whilst Trude spoke.
+
+"I know but little of poor, dear Moritz. He has never returned to
+his lodgings. A day or two after that night, two officers sealed his
+effects, and took away his clothes. His hostess has not the least
+suspicion of the mysterious disappearance of her otherwise quiet,
+regular lodger. The secret of the elopement has been carefully
+guarded, as no one of the neighbors know it, and there is no gossip
+about you and Moritz. Those who think he is travelling are not
+surprised at his having left without taking leave, as they say he
+was accustomed to do so. But," continued Trude, in a lower tone,
+"Herr Gedicke looked very sad and grave, as I asked for the
+Conrector Moritz. 'He has disappeared,' he sighed, 'and I know not
+if we shall ever see him again.' 'Oh, Jemima!' I screamed, 'you do
+not think that he has committed a self-injury!' 'No,' said the
+director, 'not he himself, he is too honorable a man. Others have
+ill-treated him and made him unhappy for life.' It was in vain to
+ask further; he knew not or he would not say any thing. I believe
+your family know where poor Moritz is, for your mother speaks of him
+as one in the penitentiary, and quite triumphantly she told me
+yesterday that the king, in his new book of laws, had expressly
+condemned the person who elopes with a minor to be sent to the house
+of correction for ten years, and then she laughed so cruelly, that I
+trembled to hear her."
+
+As Trude related this, she searchingly glanced at Marie to observe
+the effect of her words, hoping to see her weep or complain and
+that, at last, grief would melt the icy crust around her heart.
+
+But Marie sat motionless and without uttering a sound--not a sigh or
+a moan escaped her. After a long silence, when her grief was too
+deep for tears, she drew the handkerchief from her face, the pallor
+and rigidity of which startled Trude.
+
+She sprang forward, folding her in her arms. "Marie, child of my
+heart, do weep, do complain! I know that he loved you dearly, and
+deserves that you should mourn for him. Have you no more confidence,
+though, in your old Trude? Is she no longer worthy to share your
+grief?"
+
+Marie laid her languid head upon the bosom of her faithful nurse; a
+long-drawn, piercing cry of anguish was her response, she trembled
+violently, and the tears ran down her cheeks.
+
+Trude raised her eyes to heaven, murmuring, "I thank thee, O Lord!
+Her heart is not dead! It lives, for it suffers!"
+
+"It suffers," groaned Marie, "the anguish of death."
+
+This passionate outburst of feeling was of but short duration. Her
+tears were dried, and her quivering face assumed its usually calm
+expression.
+
+"Trude," said she, gently, continuing to repose upon her bosom, "I
+am so wretched that words cannot express it or tears soothe it. If I
+should give myself up to sorrow and mourning I should die, and that
+cannot be, for I must live to wait for him--to rescue him. How I
+know not yet; my thoughts and resolutions are so confused that they
+flicker like the ignes fatui. I will force my mind to be calm, and
+these wandering lights shall unite in one glowing flame to destroy
+the walls and obstructions which confine him. He is a prisoner; I
+feel it in my heart, and I must live to free him. This is my task,
+and I will accomplish it; therefore I would be composed, and strong
+in myself. Wonder not that I weep or complain no more, and do not
+refer to my misfortune. I should die if I did not suppress this
+anguish, and I would become strong and active. Seek not to enfeeble
+me, but aid me to harden myself; refrain from complaint, that I may
+be silent. I think only of him, and I ask nothing further than to
+yield my life to free him. Let us never speak of it again, for I
+feel that all the firmness which I had gained has been swept from me
+in this giving way, and that I must begin anew."
+
+From this hour she commenced to build, and rose upon her grief as on
+a column which projects toward heaven; leaned upon it, and received,
+as Brisaeus from the earth, the power of life and action. She had
+already so conquered herself as to be able to leave her own quiet
+room, and descend to that of her parents. There she would sit calmly
+for hours, listening attentively to the conversation, hoping to
+catch some word that might give her a clew.
+
+They avoided every exciting topic, and were milder and more
+thoughtful for her. Even her mother made no reproaches, and never
+alluded to the past, because she feared to delay her recovery, and
+remove the longed-for goal in hindering the marriage with
+Ebenstreit. The latter carefully avoided troubling her by his
+presence; when he heard Marie's step in the anteroom, who descended
+at a certain hour every day, he withdrew by the other entrance.
+
+"Who goes out every time I come in?" asked Marie, one day as she
+appeared in the sitting-room.
+
+The general coughed with embarrassment, and glanced anxiously at his
+wife, whose eyes rested upon her daughter with a cold, searching
+expression. Their eyes met, and were riveted upon each other. A
+cold, cruel smile played around the thin, bloodless lips of the
+mother as she recognized the defiance and firmness in her child, and
+felt that she had recovered.
+
+"It is your betrothed," she answered, "our dear Ebenstreit--a good,
+generous, and self-sacrificing son, for whom we thank God every day,
+who wishes to spare you the annoyance of seeing him."
+
+"He need not inconvenience himself on my account. Nothing excites or
+wounds my feelings now. It would be a pity for your heartless,
+thankless daughter to deprive you of the society of your dear son.
+Let him remain; it is not necessary for us to notice one another."
+
+Her parents regarded each other astonished, and, as she ceased, they
+still listened to the dying tones of her voice, which sounded so
+strangely to them. "She is much changed," mumbled the general to
+himself. "She does not seem the same person, she is so haughty and
+majestic. She might well inspire fear."
+
+The following day, as Marie entered the room, Ebenstreit was there.
+He approached her, extending both hands smiling, and greeting her
+with tender words, rejoicing at her recovery.
+
+She took no notice of his friendly demonstrations, but coldly and
+harshly regarded his smiling face, and particularly the broad,
+blood-red scar which ran from forehead to chin. Then suddenly her
+face lighted up, and an expression of savage triumph shot from her
+eyes. "How disfigured you look," she cried exultingly. "Where did
+you get that scar?"
+
+"You know well, Marie," he murmured, gloomily.
+
+"Yes," she cried, triumphantly. "I know it. He branded you, and you
+will wear this mark before God and man as long as you live."
+
+"You are very cruel to remind me of it, Marie," he softly whispered.
+
+She laughed aloud so wild and savagely, that even her mother was
+startled. "Cruel--I cruel!" she cried. "Ah, sir, it becomes you
+indeed to accuse me of it!"
+
+Trude entered at this instant, pale and excited.
+
+"What is the matter?"
+
+"There is some one here who wishes to speak with you, Marie; he has
+something very important to tell you."
+
+"How dare you announce any one without my permission?" cried Frau
+von Werrig.
+
+"Silence, mother!--if I may be allowed, let us hear who it is.--
+Speak, dear Trude, who is it?"
+
+"It is the Director Gedicke from the Gray Cloister," said Trude,
+with quivering voice.
+
+Marie was startled--a glowing red overspread her cheeks, and she was
+obliged to lean against a chair for support.
+
+"I forbid you to receive him," said her mother.
+
+She suddenly ceased, and stared at the door, which opened at that
+moment, the tall, dignified form of a venerable old man appearing.
+
+"Pardon me, sir," said he, with a cold, reserved manner, "if I enter
+before I receive permission. The command of the king, to which I
+believe we all yield without resistance, empowers me to do so."
+
+"How, sir, you come by the king's order?" asked the general, who
+rose with difficulty. "Has his majesty given you a message for
+General von Leuthen?"
+
+"No, general, I come with a communication from his majesty to
+Fraulein von Leuthen, the betrothed of Herr Ebenstreit, and the
+order runs to deliver the same personally and without witnesses."
+
+"Professor," cried the mother, shrugging her shoulders, "you mistake
+us for very innocent people, if you suppose we believe this silly
+invention, and that you can gain a secret conversation by a ruse
+with our daughter. You are the director of the gymnasium, and
+naturally the friend of Conrector Moritz. In his name you will
+speak, and bring a secret message. Very sly, indeed, very sly, but
+it will not succeed."
+
+For response, the director drew two large folded documents from his
+pocket, approaching the general. "Do you recognize this seal?" he
+asked.
+
+"Yes," solemnly answered the general; "it is the royal seal from the
+king's private cabinet."
+
+"Read the address upon this, and the unopened letter."
+
+"Truly, the latter is directed to my daughter, and the other to
+Professor Gedicke."
+
+Herr Gedicke opened the letter, asking the general if he could
+recognize the king's handwriting.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "I know it well."
+
+"Have the goodness to read the lines upon the margin," mid the
+professor, unfolding the letter, so that he could only read those
+referred to.
+
+The general read: "Professor Gedicke shall go himself to Fraulein
+von Leuthen, and bring her to reason, reading the document to her
+without witnesses. I wish this affair to come to an end. Teach
+Mamselle mores! mores! mores! "FREDERICK."
+
+"You have heard the royal command, ladies and gentlemen; will you
+respect it?" said the professor, turning around with an air of proud
+satisfaction.
+
+"My dear son-in-law," said the general, solemnly, "it is a royal
+command; give me your arm, as you know I am feeble; and you, my
+wife, take my other arm, and we will go into the next room. Hush!
+not a word--we have only to obey, and not reason."
+
+He seized his wife's hand hastily and firmly, that she should not
+slip away, and winked to Ebenstreit, upon whose support he crossed
+the room, drawing his wife with him, and pushing open the door of
+the next with his foot.
+
+Marie had stood during the whole transaction pale and rigid in the
+centre of the room, looking haughty and defiant as long as her
+parents and Herr Ebenstreit were present. Now, as the door closed,
+life and action were visible in this marble form; she rushed to the
+old gentleman, scarce respiring, and looking up at his dignified,
+sad face, asked: "Is he living? Tell me only this, or is he ill?"
+
+"Yes, he lives, he does not suffer from bodily ills, but the
+sickness of the soul."
+
+"And do not I also?" asked she, with quivering voice. "Oh! I know
+what he suffers, as we are wretched from the same cause. But tell
+me, have you seen him?"
+
+"Yes, Fraulein, I have."
+
+"Where is he? Where did you see him?"
+
+"In prison!"
+
+Marie grew paler, and retreated, shuddering. The director continued:
+"In a dark, damp prison at Spandau. The poor fellow has been there
+for two months without air, light, or occupation, and his only
+society is his own revengeful thoughts and angry love-complaints."
+
+Marie gave one hollow moan, covering her corpse-like face with her
+hands.
+
+"In this abode of torture, in this dwelling of the damned, he must
+remain ten long years, if death does not release him?"
+
+"What did you say?" she groaned. "Ten long years? Have they
+condemned him?"
+
+"Yes, he was guilty of a great crime--eloping with a minor--who,
+with the king's consent, and that of her parents, was betrothed to
+another. Read the sentence of the court, which was forwarded to me
+as the head of the college where Moritz was employed. See, here is
+the king's signature, which affirms the sentence, rendering it
+legal, and here upon the margin are the lines your father read."
+
+Trembling, Marie perused the contents. "Ten years in the house of
+correction!" she murmured. "On my account condemned to a living
+death! No, no, it is impossible! It cannot be! Ten years of the best
+part of life! He condemned as a criminal! I will go to the king. I
+will throw myself at his feet, imploring for mercy. I am the guilty
+one--I alone! They should judge me, and send me to the penitentiary!
+I will go to the king! He must and will hear me!"
+
+"He will not," sighed the director. "Listen to me, poor child! As I
+heard the sentence, I felt it my duty to summon all my powers to
+rescue Moritz, for I love him as a son, and had set my hopes upon
+him."
+
+"I thank you for this kind word," said Marie, seizing the hand of
+the old man, and pressing it to her lips.
+
+"I went immediately to Minister von Herzberg, and, upon his advice,
+as he explained to me the king might lighten his punishment, I
+betook myself to Frederick's winter-quarters at Breslau."
+
+"You noble, generous man, I shall love you for it as long as I live.
+Did you speak with the king?"
+
+"Yes, and every thing that my heart or mind could inspire, to excuse
+and justify my unhappy friend, I have said--but all in vain. The
+king was much embittered, because he had had the grace to grant him
+an audience, and explain the impossibility of the fulfilment of his
+petition. I did not cease begging and imploring, until I softened
+the generous heart of the king."
+
+"Has he pardoned Moritz?" Marie asked, with brightening hopes.
+
+"Under certain conditions he will allow that he should escape
+secretly from prison. They are formally written, and if Moritz
+consents and binds himself by oath, he will not only be freed, but
+provided with means to go to England, and receive immediately an
+appointment as translator to the Prussian embassy at London."
+
+"What are the conditions, sir?"
+
+"They are, first, that Moritz shall by oath renounce every wish and
+thought of uniting himself with Fraulein yon Leuthen; secondly, that
+before he leaves the prison, he shall write to the young lady, in
+which he shall solemnly release her, and enjoin it upon her as a
+duty to accept the hand of the man to whom her parents have
+betrothed her. These were the conditions, and the king commanded me
+to go to Spandau, and with sensible representations, to confer with
+Moritz, and persuade him to accept them, and assure himself of
+freedom, and an honorable future, free from care."
+
+"You saw Moritz?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did you communicate the conditions?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And he?"
+
+"He refused, with rage and indignation!"
+
+"He refused?" cried Marie, joyfully. "Oh, my dear Philip, I thank
+you. You love me truly and faithfully. Your glorious example shall
+inspire me to be as firm as you."
+
+"Unhappy child, you know not what you are saying!" cried the
+director, sadly. "If you really love him, you could not follow his
+example. Read what the king has written."
+
+She took, in breathless silence, the document, and broke the seal,
+unfolding the paper, but her hand shook it so violently, that she
+could not distinguish the words.
+
+She returned it to the director. "Read it, I cannot," she said, and
+sank kneeling, looking up to the old man with unspeakable anguish,
+and listening to every word that fell from his lips. It ran thus:
+
+"His majesty announces to Mademoiselle Marie von Leuthen that he is
+exceedingly indignant at her improper and undutiful conduct, which
+does not at all become a maiden loving of honor, and particularly a
+noble one. His majesty ennobled her father for a brave deed, and he
+is angry that the daughter should bring shame upon the title, in
+giving way, not only to a passion which is beneath her, but is so
+little mindful of morality as to flee from the paternal house, at
+night, in an improper manner, with a man whose wife, according to
+the command of the king and the will of her father, she could never
+be. If his majesty did not respect the former service of her father,
+and the new title, he would send the daughter to the house of
+correction, and punish her according to the law. But he will leave
+her to the reproaches of conscience, and let the weight of the law
+fall upon her partner in guilt, Philip Moritz. He is rightly
+sentenced to ten years in the house of correction, and he will not
+be released one year or one day from the same, as he is guilty of a
+great crime, and his sentence is just."
+
+"Just!" shrieked Marie, in anguish--"ten years just?"
+
+The director continued to read: "His majesty will propose a last
+opportunity to the obstinate and inconsiderate young lady to
+reinstate her own honor, and release at the same time Conrector
+Moritz. His majesty has personal knowledge of the latter, and
+respects his scholarly attainments and capability and would bring an
+end to this affair for the general good. If mademoiselle, as becomes
+an honorable young woman, and an obedient daughter, follows the
+wishes of her father, and without delay marries Herr Ebenstreit, and
+leads a respectable life with him, the same hour of the ceremony
+Conrector Moritz shall be released, and a fit position be created
+for him. This is the final decision of the king. If the daughter
+does not submit in perfect obedience, she will burden her conscience
+with a great crime, and thank herself for Moritz's unfortunate fate.
+His majesty will be immediately informed of her decision. If she
+listens to reason, to morality, and affection, she will submit to
+the proposition which Director Gedicke is commissioned to make known
+to her, and announce to her parents in his presence that she will
+obediently follow their commands, Conrector Moritz will be at once
+set at liberty; otherwise he will be sent to Brandenburg to the
+house of correction. This is the unalterable will of the king.
+Signed, in the name of the king, "FREDERICK."
+
+"Now decide, my child," continued the director, after a solemn
+pause. "I know nothing to add to this royal writing. If it has not
+itself spoken to your heart, your reason and your honor, words are
+useless."
+
+"O God, it is cruel--it is terrible!" cried Marie. "Shall I break my
+oath of constancy, becoming faithless, and suffer him to curse me,
+for he will never pardon me, but despise me!"
+
+She sprang up like a tigress, with her eyes flashing. "Oh," cried
+she, "he may even believe that I have been enticed by riches, by a
+brilliant future! No--no! I cannot consent! May God have mercy on me
+if the king will not! I will not break my oath! No one but Moritz
+shall ever be my husband!"
+
+"Unhappy girl," cried the old man, sadly, "I will give you one last
+inducement. I know not whether you have any knowledge of Moritz's
+past life, so tried and painful, which has made him easily excited
+and eccentric. A danger menaces him worse than imprisonment or
+death. His unaccustomed life, and the solitude of his dark, damp
+prison, is causing a fearful excitement in him. He is habituated to
+intellectual occupation. When he is obliged to put on the prisoner's
+jacket in the house of correction and spin wool, it will not kill
+him--it will make him mad!"
+
+A piercing cry was Marie's answer. "That is not true--it is
+impossible. He crazy!--you only say that to compel me to do what you
+will. His bright mind could not be obscured through the severest
+proofs."
+
+"You do not believe me? You think that an old man, with gray hair,
+and one foot in the grave, and who loves Moritz, could tell you a
+shameful untruth! I swear to you by the heads of my children, by all
+that is holy, that Moritz already suffers from an excitement of the
+brain; and if he does not soon have liberty and mental occupation,
+it is almost certain that he will become insane."
+
+Almost convulsed with anguish, Marie seized the old man's hand with
+fierce passion. "He shall not be crazed," she shrieked. "He shall
+not suffer--he shall not be imprisoned and buried in the house of
+correction on my account. I will rescue him--I and my love! I am
+prepared to do what the king commands! I will--marry the man--which-
+-my parents have chosen. But--tell me, will he then be free?"
+
+"To-day even--in three hours, my poor child!"
+
+"Free! And I shall have saved him! Tell me what I have to do. What
+is the king's will?"
+
+"First sign this document," said the director, as he drew a second
+paper. "It runs thus: 'I, Marie von Leuthen, that of my own free
+will and consent I will renounce every other engagement, and will
+marry Herr Ebenstreit von and be a faithful wife to him. I witness
+with my signature the same.'"
+
+"Give it to me quickly," she gasped. "I will sign it! He must be
+free! He shall not go mad!"
+
+She rapidly signed the paper. "Here is my sentence of death! But he
+will live! Take it!"
+
+"My child," cried the old man, deeply agitated, "God will be mindful
+of this sacrifice, and in the hour of death it will beam brightly
+upon you. You have by this act rescued a noble and excellent being,
+and when he wins fame from science and art he will owe to you alone
+the gratitude."
+
+"He shall not thank me!" she whispered. "He shall live and--if he
+can be happy!--this is all that I ask for! What is there further to
+be done?"
+
+"To announce to your parents in my presence that you will marry Herr
+Ebenstreit, and let the ceremony take place as soon as possible."
+
+"You swear that he shall then be released? You are an old man--
+reflect well; you swear to me that as soon as the marriage takes
+place, Philip Moritz will be free this very day and that he will be
+reinstated in an honorable, active occupation?"
+
+"I swear it to you upon my word of honor, by my hope of reward from
+above."
+
+"I believe you. Call my parents. But first--you are a father, and
+love your children well. I have never had a father who loved me, or
+ever laid his hand upon my head to bless me. You say that you love
+Moritz as a son! Oh, love me for a moment as your daughter, and
+bless me!"
+
+The old man folded her in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks.
+"God bless you, my daughter, as I bless you!"
+
+"I dare not tarry," she shuddered. "Let my parents enter."
+
+Slowly the venerable man traversed the room. Marie pressed her hands
+to her heart, looking to heaven. As the door opened, and the general
+entered, leaning upon Ebenstreit's arm, followed by his wife, Marie
+approached them with a haughty, determined manner, who regarded her
+with astonishment.
+
+"Father," she said, slowly and calmly, "I am ready to follow your
+wishes. Send for the clergyman: I consent to marry this man to-day,
+upon one condition."
+
+"Make it known, my dear Marie. Name your condition. I will joyfully
+fulfil it," said Ebenstreit.
+
+"I demand that we leave to-day for the East, to go to Egypt--
+Palestine--and remain away from this place for years. Are you agreed
+to it?"
+
+"To all that which my dear Marie wishes."
+
+"You can now weave the bridal-wreath in my hair, mother. I consent
+to the marriage."
+
+Three hours later the preparations were completed. Every thing had
+awaited this for three months.
+
+In the sitting-room, the decorators had quickly built a marriage-
+altar, and ornamented the walls with garlands of flowers, with
+festoons of gauze and silk, with flags and standards. The mother
+wore the costly silk which her rich son-in-law had honored her with
+for the occasion, and also adorned herself with the gold ornaments
+which were equally his gift. The father wore his gold-embroidered
+uniform, and imagined himself a stately figure, as the gout left him
+the use of his limbs this day.
+
+The invited witnesses began to assemble. Just then Ebenstreit von
+Leuthen drove up in the handsome travelling-carriage, which was a
+wedding-gift to his wife, and excited the admiration of the numerous
+street public.
+
+Old Trude, in her simple dark Sunday dress, had awaited the
+appearance of the bridegroom, and went to announce his arrival to
+the bride.
+
+Marie was in her little garret-room, so unlike in its present
+appearance to its former simplicity and comfort--as unlike as the
+occupant to the rosy, smiling young girl, who, yonder by the little
+brown table in the window-niche, taught her pupils, or with busy,
+skilful hands made the loveliest flowers, the income of which she
+gave to her parents, joyfully and although she never received thanks
+or recognition for the same. Now the same little table was covered
+with morocco cases, whose half-open covers revealed brilliant
+ornaments, laces, and sweet perfumes; superb silk dresses, cloaks,
+and shawls, ornamented with lace, lay about upon the bed and chairs.
+
+Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen had truly given his bride a princely
+dowry, and her mother had spread the things around room.
+
+Since Marie gave her consent to the marriage, she had followed out
+their wishes without opposition. She wore a white satin dress,
+covered with gold lace, her arms, neck, and ears, adorned with
+diamonds. The coiffeur had powdered and arranged her hair, without
+her ever casting a glance into the Psyche-mirror which her betrothed
+had had the gallantry to send to her room. She let him arrange the
+costly bridal veil; but when he would place the crown of myrtle, she
+waved him back.
+
+"Your work is finished," she said; "my mother will place that, I
+thank you."
+
+As Trude entered, Marie was standing in the centre of the room,
+regarding it with sinister, angry looks.
+
+"There you are, Trude," she said, "I am glad to see you a moment
+alone, for I have something to tell you. I have spoken with my
+future husband, demanding that you live with me as long as I live.
+Immediately after the ceremony you will go to my future home and
+remain there as house-keeper during my absence."
+
+Sadly the old woman shook her head. "No, that is too important a
+place for me. I will not lead a lazy life, and play the fine woman.
+I was made to work with my hands."
+
+"Do what you will in the house," answered Marie. "Only promise me
+that you will not leave me, and when I return that I shall find you
+there. If you leave me, I will never come back. Promise me!"
+
+"Then I will promise you, my poor child," sighed Trude.
+
+Marie laughed scornfully. "You call me poor--do you not see I am
+rich? I carry a fortune about my neck. Go, do not bewail me--I am
+rich!"
+
+"Marie, do not laugh so, it makes me feel badly," whispered the old
+woman. "I came to tell you the bridegroom and the clergyman are
+there."
+
+"The time has arrived for the marriage of the rich and happy bride.
+Go, Trude, beg my mother to come up and adorn me with the myrtle-
+wreath."
+
+"Dear Marie, can I not do it?" asked Trude, with quivering voice.
+
+"No, not you; touch not the fatal wreath! You have no part in that!
+Call my mother--it is time!"
+
+Trude turned sadly toward the door, Marie glancing after her, and
+calling her back with gentle tone.
+
+"Trude, my dear, faithful mother, kiss me once more." She threw her
+arms around Marie's neck and imprinted a loving kiss upon her
+forehead, weeping. "Now go, Trude--we must not give way; you know
+me; you well understand my feelings, and see into my heart."
+
+The old woman went out, drying her eyes. Marie uttered her last
+farewell. "With you the past goes forth, with you my youth and hope!
+When the door again opens, my future enters a strange, fearful life.
+Woe to those who have prepared it for me--woe to those who have so
+cruelly treated me! They will yet see what they have done. The good
+angel is extinct within me. Wicked demons will now assume their over
+me. I will have no pity--I will revenge myself; that I swear to
+Moritz!"
+
+Her mother rustled in, clothed in her splendid wedding-garments.
+"Did you send for me, dear Marie?" she whispered.
+
+"Yes, mother--I beg you to put on my myrtle-wreath."
+
+"How! have you no endearment for me?" she asked, smilingly. "Why do
+you say 'you' instead of 'thou?'"
+
+"It is better so, mother," she coldly answered. "Will you adorn me
+with the bridal-wreath?"
+
+"Willingly, my dear child; it is very beautiful and becoming."
+
+"Do you realize, mother, what you are doing? You place the wreath to
+consecrate me to an inconsolably unhappy life with the man that I
+hate and despise!"
+
+"My dear child, I know that you think so to-day; but you will soon
+change, and find that wealth is a supportable misfortune."
+
+"Mother, one day you will recall these words. Crown me for the hated
+bridal. The sacrifice is prepared!"
+
+
+
+
+BOOK IV.
+
+THE VISIBLES AND THE INVISIBLES.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+OLD FRITZ.
+
+
+The war terminated, the hostile armies returned to their different
+German countries. Frederick the Great had gained his point, forcing
+Austria to renounce the possession of Bavaria. The Prince of
+Zweibruecken had been solemnly recognized by him as the rightful
+heir to the electorate, and the lawful ruler and possessor of
+Bavaria. The Emperor Joseph had submitted with profound regret and
+bitter animosity to the will of his mother, the reigning empress,
+and consented to the peace negotiations of Baron von Thugut. Having
+signed the document of the same, in his quality of co-regent, he
+angrily threw aside the pen, casting a furious glance at the hard,
+impenetrable face of Thugut, saying: "Tell her majesty that I have
+accomplished my last act as co-regent, and I now abdicate. From
+henceforth I will still lie her obedient son, but no submissive
+joint ruler, to only follow devotedly her imperial will. Therefore I
+resign, and never will trouble myself in future about the acts of
+the government." The emperor kept his word. He retired, piqued, into
+solitude, wounded in the depths of his soul, and afterward
+travelled, leaving the government entirely to the empress and her
+pious confessors.
+
+Bavaria was rescued! It owed its existence to the watchfulness,
+sagacity, and disinterested aid of Prussia's great king. The Elector
+Maximilian vowed in his delight that he, as well as his successors
+and heirs, would never forget that Bavaria must ascribe its
+continuance to Prussia alone, and therefore the gratitude of the
+princes of this electorate could not and never would be extinguished
+toward the royal house of Prussia. Frederick received these
+overflowing acknowledgments with the calmness of a philosopher and
+the smile of a skeptic. He understood mankind sufficiently to know
+what to expect from their oaths; to know that in the course of time
+there is nothing more oppressive and intolerable than gratitude,
+that it soon becomes a burden which they would gladly throw off
+their bent shoulders at any price, and become the enemy of him to
+whom they had sworn eternal thankfulness. Frederick regarded these
+oaths of Bavaria not as a security for the future, but as a payment
+on account of the past.
+
+"I did not go forth to render the Bavarian princes indebted to me,"
+said he, to his only confidante, Count Herzberg, as he brought to
+him, at Sans-Souci, the renewed expression of thanks of the prince
+elector. "I would only protect Germany against Austria's grasp, and
+preserve the equilibrium of the German empire. Believe me, the house
+of Hapsburg is a dangerous enemy for the little German
+principalities, and if my successor does not bear it in mind, and
+guard himself against their flatteries and cat's-paws, Austria will
+fleece him as the cat the mouse who is enticed by the odor of the
+bacon. Prussia shall be neither a mouse in the German empire, nor
+serve as a roast for Austria. But she shall be a well-trained
+shepherd's dog for the dear, patient herd, and take care that none
+go astray and are lost."
+
+"Your majesty has drawn an unfortunate character for the future of
+our country," sighed Herzberg, thoughtfully, "and I must grant that
+it is sketched with severe but correct outlines so it follows that
+poor Germany has many combats and hardships in store."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked the king. "What characteristic did I
+name?"
+
+"Your majesty pointed out Austria as the cat watching for prey in
+Germany. Prussia, on the contrary, as the shepherd's dog, which
+should watch the native herd, and occasionally bite those who wander
+from the flock. The comparison is apt, and clearly exposes the
+natural hostility of the two nations. Nature has placed the cat and
+the dog in eternal enmity, and there is no compromise to be thought
+of, to say nothing of friendship. There may, now and then, be a
+truce; the cat may draw in her claws, and the dog may cease to howl
+and growl, but the combat will renew itself, and never end, but in
+the death of one party, and the victorious triumph of the other."
+
+"You are right," said the king, nodding slightly. "From this natural
+hostility will proceed many combats and storms for our land, and
+much blood will be shed on its account. Let us look to the future,
+and try to ward off the coming evil, in erecting high barriers
+against the cat-like springs of the enemy. I will think out a
+security for Germany. But first, mon cher ami, we have to care for
+our own country and people. The war has greatly injured my poor
+subjects. Industry is prostrated and prosperity disturbed. We must
+seek new sources of acquisition, and sustain those which are
+exhausted. For this, we must think of fresh taxes, and other sources
+of income."
+
+"Sire," said Herzberg, shrugging his shoulders, "the taxes are
+already so heavy that it will be difficult to increase them."
+
+"You are greatly mistaken," cried the king, with increased
+animation. "I will impose a tax upon those things which are now
+exempt, and establish a capable administration for the purpose.
+Bread, flour, meat, and beer, the sustenance of the poor, shall
+remain as they are, for I will not that they shall pay more. But
+tobacco, coffee, and tea, are superfluous things, which the
+prosperous and rich consume. Whoever will smoke, and drink tea or
+coffee, can and shall pay for being a gourmand!"
+
+"I beg pardon, but it is just these taxes which will create the
+greatest discontent," answered Herzberg. "Your majesty will remember
+that the duty on coffee was complained of and criticised by every
+one, and the poor people grumbled more than all. In spite of the
+resistance of government, coffee has become, more and more, a means
+of nourishment and refreshment for the lower class."
+
+"I will teach them to renounce it," cried the king, striking the
+table violently with his staff "I will not suffer so much money to
+go out of the country for this abominable beverage! My people shall
+re-learn to drink their beer, instead of this infamous stuff, as I
+had to do when a young man. What was good enough for the crown
+prince of Prussia, will to-day suffice for his subjects. I tell you,
+Herzberg, I will teach them to drink their beer, or pay dearly for
+this bad, foreign stuff. Then we will see which will conquer,
+Prussian beer or foreign coffee."
+
+"It is possible that the former will be victorious on account of
+their poverty and the high duties; but in any case the people will
+be discontented, and grumble against your majesty."
+
+"Do you suppose that I care for that?" asked the king, with a quick,
+fiery glance at the calm, earnest face of his confidant. "Do you
+think that I care for the applause of the people, or trouble myself
+about their complaints? I regard their shouting or their grumbling
+about as much as the humming or buzzing of a fly upon the wall. If
+it dares to light upon my nose, I brush it off; and if I can, I
+catch it. Beyond that, it is its nature to hum and buzz. Herzberg,
+you understand that if a ruler should listen to the praises or
+discontent of his subjects, he would soon be a lost man, and would
+not know his own mind. The people are changeable as the weather; to-
+morrow they crush under their feet what to-day they bore aloft, and
+praise one day what they stone the next. Do not talk to me about the
+people! I know this childish, foolish mass, and he is lost who
+counts upon their favor. It is all the same to me whether they like
+or hate me. I shall always do my duty to my subjects according to
+the best of my knowledge and ability, as it becomes an honorable and
+faithful officer. As the chief and most responsible servant of my
+kingdom, I should be mindful to increase her income and diminish her
+expenses--to lay taxes upon the rich, and lighten them for the poor.
+This is my task, and I will fulfil it so long as I live!"
+
+"Oh," cried Herzberg, with enthusiasm, "would that the entire nation
+might hear these words, and engrave them upon their hearts!"
+
+"Why that, mon cher?" asked Frederick, shrugging his shoulders. "I
+do not ask to be deified; my subjects are perfectly welcome to
+discuss my acts, so long as they pay me punctually, and order and
+quiet are respected and preserved."
+
+"All that is done," said Herzberg, joyfully. "The machine of state
+is so well arranged, that she has fulfilled her duty during the war,
+and will soon reestablish prosperity."
+
+"Particularly," cried the king, "if we rightly understand the art of
+agriculture. In the end every thing depends upon him who best
+cultivates his field. This is the highest art, for without it there
+would be no merchants, courtiers, kings, poets, or philosophers. The
+productions of the earth are the truest riches. He who improves his
+ground, brings waste land under the plough, drains the swamps, makes
+the most glorious conquests over barbarism."
+
+"And those are also conquerors, sire," said Herzberg, smiling, "who
+drain the mental swamps, and improve the waste mental ground. Such
+are those who increase the schools and instruct the people. I have
+caused the school authorities to report to me, according to your
+majesty's command. A happy progress has been noticed everywhere.
+Cultivation and education are advancing; and since our teachers have
+adopted the principles of Rousseau, a more humane spirit is
+perceptible throughout our schools."
+
+"What principle do we owe to Jean Jacques?" asked the king.
+
+"Sire, the principle that man is good by nature!"
+
+"Ah, mon cher, who says that knows but little of the abominable race
+to which we belong!" [Footnote: The king's words.--See "Prussia."
+vol. iv., p. 221.]
+
+"Do you not believe in this doctrine?" asked Herzberg.
+
+The king raised his large blue eyes musingly to the busts placed
+upon the bookcases, and around the walls. They lingered long upon
+those of Homer, Plato, and D'Alembert; then turned to that of
+Voltaire, with its satyr-like face. "No, I do not believe it," he
+sadly responded. "Mankind is an ignoble race; still one must love
+them, for among the wicked are always some worthy ones, whose light
+beams so brightly clear, that they change night into day. During my
+life I have learned to know many base, miserable creatures, but I
+have become reconciled to them, as I have also found some who were
+virtuous and excellent--some who were noble and beautiful, as the
+grains of wheat among the chaff. You belong to the latter, my
+Herzberg; and as in heaven many unjust will be forgiven for one just
+person, so will I upon earth forgive on your account the Trencks,
+Schaffgotschs, Goernes, Voltaires, Wallraves, Glasows, Dahsens, and
+all the traitors, poisoners, and perfidious ones, as they may be
+called. Remain by my side and sustain me, to prevent many a wicked
+thing and bring to pass much that is good. I shall always be
+grateful to you in my heart for it; that you can depend upon even if
+my weather-beaten face looks ill-humored, and my voice is peevish.
+Remember that I am a fretful old man, who is daily wasting away,
+approaching that bourne from which no traveller has ever returned."
+
+"God grant that your majesty may be far removed from this bourne!"
+said Herzberg, with emotion. "And He may grant it on account of your
+subjects, who are so much in need of your care and government."
+
+"There is no one upon earth who could not be replaced," said the
+king, shaking his head. "When I am gone, they will shout to my
+successor. I trust my subjects will exchange a good ruler for their
+fretful old king. I have been very well satisfied with him during
+the campaign, and he has shown ability in the diplomatic mission to
+St. Petersburg. He has proved himself a soldier and a diplomat, and
+I hope he will become a great king. Herzberg, why do you not answer
+me, but cast down your eyes? What does your silence mean?"
+
+"Nothing at all--truly nothing! The crown prince has a noble,
+generous heart, a good understanding; only--"
+
+"Why hesitate, Herzberg? Go on--what is your 'only?'"
+
+"I would only say that the crown prince must beware and. not be
+governed by others."
+
+"Oh, you mean that he will be ruled by mistresses and favorites?"
+
+"I do fear it, your majesty! You well know that the crown princes
+are generally the antipodes of those ascendant to the throne. If the
+ruler has only an enlightened mind, and is free from prejudices, so-
+-"
+
+"Is his crown prince an obscurer," added quickly the king, "having
+the more prejudices, and is capable of being ruled by mystics and
+exorcists. Is not that your meaning?"
+
+Count Herzberg nodded. The king continued with animation: "Some one
+has told me of a new friend who returned from the war with the
+prince, and who belongs to the Rosicrucians and exhorters, and hopes
+to find many adherents here for such deceptions. Is it true?"
+
+"Yes, sire. It is Colonel Bischofswerder, a Rosicrucian and
+necromancer and of course of very pleasant address. He has indeed
+already gained much power over the impressible mind of Frederick
+William, and his importance is greatly on the increase."
+
+"What does the crown prince's mistress say to it? Is she not
+jealous?"
+
+"Of which one does your majesty speak?"
+
+The king started, and his eyes flashed. "What!" he cried with
+vehemence, "is there a question of several? Has the crown prince
+others besides Wilhelmine Enke, whom I have tolerated?"
+
+"Sire, unfortunately, the prince has not a very faithful heart.
+Besides, it is Bischofswerder's plan, as I suppose, to separate him
+from Wilhelmine, who will not subordinate herself to him, and who
+even dares to mock the necromancers and visionaries, and oppose them
+to the crown prince."
+
+"Does Enke do that?" asked the king.
+
+"Yes, sire," answered Herzberg, as the king rose and slowly paced
+the room. "And one must acknowledge that in that she does well and
+nobly. Otherwise one cannot reproach her. She leads a quiet, retired
+life, very seldom leaving her beautiful villa at Charlottenburg, but
+devotes herself to the education of her children. She is surrounded
+with highly-educated men, savants, poets, and artists, who indeed
+all belong to the enlightened, the so-called Illuminati, and which
+are a thorn in the eye to Colonel Bischofswerder. Your majesty will
+perceive that I have some good informants in this circle, and the
+latest news they bring me is that the bad influence is upon the
+increase. The Rosicrucians reproach the prince for his immoral
+connection with Wilhelmine Enke, as they would replace her by one
+who gives herself up to them."
+
+"That shall not take place," cried the king. "No, we will not suffer
+that; and particularly when we are forced to recognize such
+abominable connections, we should endeavor to choose the most
+desirable. I cannot permit that this person, who has at least heart
+and understanding, should be pushed aside by Bischofswerder. My
+nephew shall retain her, and she shall drive away the Rosicrucians
+with all their deviltries. Herzberg, go and tell the crown prince,
+from me, that I order--"
+
+His majesty suddenly stopped, and looked at Herzberg with surprise,
+who was smiling.
+
+"Why do you laugh, Herzberg?"
+
+"I was not laughing, sire. If my lip quivered against my will, it
+was because I stupidly and foolishly dared to finish the broken
+sentence."
+
+"Well, how did you manage to conclude it?"
+
+"Sire, your majesty said, 'Tell the crown prince that I order him'--
+and there you ceased. I added 'order him to love Wilhelmine Enke,
+and be faithful to her.' I beg pardon for my mistake. I should have
+known that your majesty could never command the execution of that
+which is not to be forced; that my great king recognizes, as well as
+I, that love is not compulsory, or fidelity either. Pardon me for my
+impertinence, and tell me the order which I shall take to the crown
+prince from my beloved king and master."
+
+The king stepped close up to the minister, and gazed with a half-
+sad, half-tender expression in the noble and gentle face of
+Herzberg, and in the sensible brown eyes, which sank not beneath the
+fiery glance of Frederick. Then, slowly raising his hand from the
+staff, he menaced him with his long, bony forefinger.
+
+"Herzberg, you are a rogue, and will teach me morals. Indeed, you
+are right--love is not compulsory, but one can sometimes aid it. Say
+nothing to the prince. The interior of his house must, indeed, be
+left to himself, but we will keep our eyes open and be watchful. Do
+so also, Herzberg, and if you discover any thing, tell me; and if
+Wilhelmine Enke needs assistance against the infamous Rosicrucians,
+and with her aid this mystic rabble can be suppressed, inform me,
+and I am ready to send her succor. Ah! Herzberg, is it not a
+melancholy fact that one must fight his way through so much
+wickedness to obtain so little that is good? My whole life has
+passed in toil and trouble; I have grown old before my time, and
+would rest from my labors, and harvest in the last few years, what I
+have sown in a lifetime. Is it not sad that I hope for no fruit, and
+that the seed that I have scattered will be trodden under foot by my
+successor? I must gaze at the future without joy, without
+consolation!"
+
+The king turned to the window, perhaps to hide the tears which stood
+in his eyes. Herzberg did not presume to interrupt the sad silence,
+but gazed with an expression of the deepest sympathy at the little
+bent form, in the threadbare coat. Grief filled his heart at the
+thought that this head was not only bowed down by the weight of
+years and well-deserved laurels, but also from its many cares and
+griefs, and hopeless peering into the future.
+
+The king turned again, and his eyes were bright and un-dimmed. "We
+must never lose courage," said he, "and we must have a reserve corps
+in life as well as upon the field of battle. For the world resembles
+the latter, and the former is a continual war, in which we must not
+be discouraged nor cast down, if there is not hope in our souls. I
+will cling to As you have said, and I have also found it true, that
+crown prince is a good and brave man, and possesses a keen
+understanding, we may succeed in bringing him from the erroneous
+ways in which his youth, levity, and the counsels of wicked friends
+have led him. We will try with kindness and friendliness, as I
+believe these have more effect upon him. Let us not even scorn to
+aid Wilhelmine in so far as is compatible with honor. If a mistress
+is necessary to the happiness of the prince, this one seems the most
+worthy of all to encourage. Beyond the clouds the stars are still
+shining, and it appears to me as if I see in perspective in the
+heaven of Prussia's future, a star which promises a bright light
+with years. Do you not think with me, the little Prince Frederick
+William is a rising star?"
+
+"Yes, your majesty," answered Herzberg, joyfully, "He is a splendid
+little boy, of simple and innocent heart, and bright, vigorous mind,
+modest and unpretending."
+
+"You see," cried the king, evidently cheered, "there is one star and
+we will watch over it, that it is not obscured. I must see the
+prince oftener. He shall visit me every month and his governors and
+teachers shall report to me every quarter. We will watch over his
+education, and train him to be a good king for the future, and guard
+ourselves against being pusillanimous, foolish, and fretful, and not
+be discouraged in life. I have entered my last lustrum, or five
+years. Hush! do not dispute it, but believe me! My physique is worn
+out, and the mental grows dull, and although I live and move about,
+I am half in the grave. There are two coffins in this room, which
+contain the greater part of my past. Look around, do you not see
+them?"
+
+"No," said Herzberg, as he glanced at the different articles of
+furniture, "I see none."
+
+"Look upon the table by the window--what do you there see?"
+
+"Your majesty, there is an instrument-case and a sword-sheath."
+
+"They are the ones I refer to. In the case lies my flute, that is to
+say, my youth, love, poesy, and art, are encoffined there. In the
+sheath is my sword, which is my manhood, energy, laurels, and fame.
+I will never play the flute or draw the sword again. All that is
+past!"
+
+"But there still remains for the great king a noble work to
+perfect," cried Herzberg. "Youth has flown, and the war-songs are
+hushed. The poet and hero will change to the lawgiver. Sire, you
+have made Prussia great and powerful externally; there remains a
+greater work, to make her the same within. You have added new
+provinces, give them now a new code of laws. You will no longer
+unsheath the sword of the hero; then raise that of justice high
+above your subjects!"
+
+"I will," cried the king, with beaming eyes. "You have rightly
+seized and comprehended what alone seems to me worthy of will and
+execution. There shall be but one law for the high and the low, the
+poor and the rich. The distinguished Chancellor Carmer shall
+immediately go to work upon it, and you shall aid him. The necessity
+of such a reform we have lately felt in the Arnold process, where
+the judge decided in favor of the rich, and wronged the poor man.
+How could the judge sustain Count Schmettau against the miller
+Arnold, who had been deprived of the water for his mill, when it was
+so evident that it was unjust?"
+
+"I beg pardon, majesty, but I believe the judge obeyed the very
+letter of the law, and--"
+
+"Then this law must be annulled," interrupted the king. "This is why
+I revoked the judge's sentence, and sent the obstinate fellows to
+the fortress, sustaining the miller in his right deposing the
+arrogant Chancellor Furst. I had long resolved upon it, for I knew
+that he was a haughty fellow, who let the poor crowd his anteroom,
+and listened to the flattery of the high-born rabble who courted
+him. I only waited an occasion to bow his haughty head. This
+offered, and I availed myself of it, voila tout. It is to be hoped
+that it will be good example for all courts of justice. They will
+remember that the least peasant and beggar is a human being as much
+as the king, and that justice should be accorded to if they do not,
+they will have to deal with me. If a college of justice practises
+injustice, it is more dangerous than a band of robbers; for one can
+protect himself from the latter but the former are rascals wearing
+the mantle of justice, to exercise their own evil passions, from
+whom no man can protect himself, and they are the greatest
+scoundrels in the world and deserve a double punishment. I therefore
+deposed the unjust judge, and sent him to the fortress at Spandau,
+that all might take warning by his fate." [Footnote: The king's own
+words.--Seo "Prussia, Frederick the Great," vol. iv.]
+
+"This Arnold trial belongs to history," said Herzberg. "The lawyers
+will refer to it after the lapse of centuries, and the poor and the
+oppressed will recall and bless the thoughtfulness of the great
+king, who would open just as wide a gate for them to enter the
+heaven of justice as to the rich and noble. This new code of laws
+will beam above the crown of gold and of laurels, with the splendor
+of the civil crown, whose brilliants are the tears of gratitude of
+your people."
+
+"May it be so," said Frederick, with earnestness. "Now tell me, do
+you know what day of the month it is?"
+
+"Sire, it is the 30th of May.'"
+
+"Yes, you will remember it is the anniversary of Voltaire's death,
+and after I have quarrelled for two years with the priests and so-
+called holy fathers at Rome, I have gained my point, and the honor
+shall be shown him here in Berlin which the priests and friars have
+refused to the immortal poet in his own country. To-day, exactly at
+the hour which Voltaire died, the mass for the dead will be read in
+the Catholic church, to free his immortal soul from purgatory. I
+have, indeed, no idea of an immortal soul. If there are any, and if
+it has to endure the threefold heat of which Father Tobias, of
+Silesia, related to me, I do not believe that the priests, for a few
+thalers, can loose the unhappy spirit from the bake-oven. But as
+they refuse burial to the spirit of Voltaire, in order to insult him
+after death, so must I avail myself of this occasion to offer a last
+homage to the great poet, which will take place at four o'clock. Go
+to the mass, Herzberg, and tell me to-morrow how it went off--
+whether the priests make right pious faces and burn much incense.
+Adieu. Au revoir, demain."
+
+As the king dismissed, with a friendly wave of the hand, his
+confidential minister, he passed into his cabinet, remaining an hour
+with his counsellors. At dinner appeared some of the generals,
+weather-worn and bent, with wrinkled faces and dull eyes. Souvenirs
+of the glorious years of fame and victory. The king nodded kindly to
+them, but during the entire meal, he only let some indifferent
+questions fall from his lips, which were devotedly and tediously
+answered by some one of the old generals. As their dry, peevish
+voices resounded through the high, vaulted room, it seemed to
+reawaken in Frederick's heart the souvenirs of memory and become the
+echo of vanished days. He gazed up at the little Cupids, in the
+varied play of bright colors, looking down from the clouds, and the
+goddesses trumpeting through their long tubes the fame of the
+immortal, the same as formerly, when they smiled from the clouds
+upon the beaming face of the young king, dining in the distinguished
+circle of his friends Voltaire, D'Argens, Algarotti, La Melbrie, and
+Keith.
+
+The Cupids were fresh as ever, and the goddesses had not removed the
+trumpets from their lips. But where were the of the merry round-
+table? Returned to dust. The jests and poesy have died away--all
+have sunken to decay and darkness. The king silently raised his
+glass of Tokay, gazing up to the clouds and Cupids, draining it
+slowly in sacrifice for the dead. Then with a vehement, contemptuous
+movement, he threw the glass over his shoulder, shivering it into a
+thousand pieces. The old generals, after dessert, had gently sunk
+into their afternoon nap, and now started, frightened, looking
+wildly around, as if they expected the enemy were approaching.
+Alkmene crept from under the king's chair muffing with her long,
+delicate nose, the glistening pieces of glass, and the footman bent
+himself to carefully pick them up.
+
+The king rose silently, saluting the old generals, pointing with his
+staff to the large folding-doors which led to the garden.
+
+The footmen hastened forward to open them, and stand in stiff,
+military order upon each side. Frederick walked slowly out, mounting
+the two steps which led to the upper terrace, signing to the
+attendants to close the doors.
+
+He was alone. Only Windspiel was there to spring about joyfully,
+barking, and turning to meet him, who wandered on the border of the
+terrace, where he had formerly walked with his friends. Now he
+stopped to gaze up the broad, deserted steps which led from terrace
+to terrace, as if he could re-people them with the well-known forms,
+and could see them approach and greet him with the look of endless
+love and constancy. Then he raised his eyes to heaven, as if to seek
+there those he in vain sought upon earth.
+
+"Do you not see me, my friends?" he asked, in a gentle but sad
+voice. "Do you not look down wonderingly where you saw a cheerful,
+smiling king, upon the now bent, shrunken old man, cold and
+phlegmatic, who seldom speaks, and then causes every one to yawn?
+Oh, where have you fled, beautiful spring-time of life--wherein once
+we used to enliven our conversations with the wit of the Athenians,
+and the jest fluttered upon our lips as we glided through life in
+the bold enjoyment of youth? Banished is the dance, and I creep
+about, leaning upon my staff, enfeebled in body, and with saddened
+heart! Oh, awful change, unhappy old age! What does it aid me that I
+am a king? I have won many a battle, but now I am vanquished by age
+and death and am alone!" [Footnote: The king's words.--See
+"Posthumous Works," vol. x., p. 100.]
+
+A slight breeze rustled through the trees, fanning, caressingly, the
+cheeks of the king. The perfume of sweet flowers rose from the
+terrace, and below rushed the cascade. The marble groups around the
+fountain glistened in the golden rays of the sun, and in the dark
+foliage fluttered and sang the merry birds of summer.
+
+Suddenly the wind wafted from the church at Potsdam the clear tones
+of a bell, announcing to the king the hour of four, the death of
+Voltaire.
+
+The king walked along to the rose-arbor, to the temple of
+friendship, where the bust of his sister Frederika was placed. He
+seated himself near the entrance, listening to the ringing voice of
+the bell, and recalling that the death-mass had now commenced in
+Berlin.
+
+The service sacred to memory! The prayer for the immortal soul! As
+the lonely king sat there, calm and bowed down, a solemn prayer and
+holy mass rose from his own soul. He bowed lower his head, and,
+without realizing it himself, traced letters in the sand at his
+feet, with no witness but the blue heavens above him, and Windspiel
+who curiously eyed the lines. Thinking of the prayer for Voltaire's
+undying soul, the king had written the word of profoundest mystery
+and revelation, of hope and prophecy--" Immortality."
+
+The wind gently rustled in the trees, wafting the perfume of
+flowers. Sweet stillness reigned around, and lowly sang the birds as
+if not to waken the king, who slept by the marble form of his
+beloved sister--Windspiel upon his knees, and in the sand at his
+feet the word traced by his own hand, "Immortality."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+CAGLIOSTRO'S RETURN.
+
+
+Wilhelmine Enke was still living at her villa at Charlottenburg. She
+was, as formerly, the "unmarried" daughter of the hautboy-player,
+the favorite and friend of the crown prince; the same as two years
+previous, when he presented her before the Bavarian campaign, with
+this house and There was no change in her outward circumstances; her
+life passed regularly and calmly. The once fresh and beautiful cheek
+had lost somewhat of its youthful, roseate hue, and the smile of the
+ruby lips was less haughty, and the warmth of those brilliant eyes
+was subdued. This was the only perceptible difference wrought by the
+little vexations and troubles incident to her position. She had
+found some bitter drops in the golden goblet which the prince in his
+love pressed to her lips--drops which were uncongenial to lips
+accustomed to the sweets of life.
+
+To-day she had awaited him at dinner, and had just received a very
+friendly but laconic letter, excusing himself until the following
+morning. This was an unpalatable drop. Wilhlemine paced back and
+forth the solitary, gloomy path, at the foot of the garden, re-
+reading this letter, and examining every word to search out its
+hidden meaning.
+
+"They have brought this about," she murmured, tearing the letter
+into little pieces, which lighted upon the shrubbery like
+butterflies. "Yes, it is their work. They have sought by all
+possible means to draw him into their power, and away from me. And
+they will succeed, as there are two of them, and the princess
+sustains them; and I am alone, unsupported. I am entirely alone--
+alone!"
+
+"If you are alone, then, it is surely your own fault," said an
+earnest, solemn voice, and at the same instant a tall form
+approached from the shrubbery which bordered the side of the garden.
+
+"Cagliostro!" shrieked Wilhelmine, shrinking terrified away. "Oh,
+mercy upon me, it is Cagliostro!"
+
+"Why are you so frightened, my daughter?" he asked, gently. "Why do
+you withdraw from me, and cast down your eyes?"
+
+"I thought you were in Courland," she stammered, confused.
+
+"And whilst you thought me afar, you forgot your sacred oath and
+holy duty," he replied, in a harsh, severe tone. "Oh my daughter,
+the Invisibles weep and lament bitterly over you."
+
+"I am curious to see these tears," said Wilhelmine, who had now
+recovered her self-composure. "Do you think, Herr Magus, any of them
+could be found in the eyes of Colonel Bischofswerder and his
+intimate friend Woellner? Do you pretend that they also weep over
+me?"
+
+"They do not belong to the Invisibles, but the Visibles. But their
+souls are true and faithful, and would have to mourn over the
+unhappy one who could forget her vows."
+
+"Then allow me to say that I abjure these tears, and laugh at the
+idea that these hypocrites and necromancers weep over me."
+
+"My daughter, what words are these, and how strangely altered you
+are! I have come from the far north, and but just alighted from the
+travelling-carriage. I came at once to see you, and hoped to be
+greeted joyfully with a kiss of love, and what do I hear instead?
+Harsh words filled with scorn and mockery, and disobedience against
+the Invisible Fathers, to whom you have sworn fidelity and
+submission!"
+
+"You have forced me to it!" she cried, impetuously. "In my own house
+you came upon me and compelled me to take part in your mystic
+assembly."
+
+"If one loves humanity, he must insist upon its accepting
+happiness," said Cagliostro, solemnly. "We recognized in you one of
+the elect, one of the great souls which are worthy to see the light,
+and sun themselves in the rays of knowledge. Therefore we accepted
+you among the spirits of the alliance, and--"
+
+"And made great promises, of which not one has been fulfilled. Where
+is the title of countess, the influence, position, honor, and
+dignity, which you prophesied to me?"
+
+"Where are the deeds you promised to perform, the witnesses of your
+fidelity and devotion?" he thunderingly demanded. "You have dared to
+rebel against the holy alliance! Your short-sighted spirit presumes
+to mock those eyes which perceive that you are straying away!
+Beware--Wilhemine, beware! I came to-day to warn you, when I return
+it will be to punish you. Turn, oh turn while there is yet time!
+Submit your will to the Fathers, as you have sworn to do! The
+promised reward will not fail, and Wilhelmine Enke will become a
+countess, a princess, and the most distinguished and powerful will
+bow before her. The Fathers demand of you repentance, and
+renunciation of the worst enemies of the Rosicrucians. Members, and
+even chiefs and pioneers of the Illuminati and Freemasons are
+welcomed at your house."
+
+"Why should they not be?" asked she, smiling. "They are happy,
+cheerful spirits, void of mysteries, and do not torture people with
+mysticisms. They have but one aim, a great and glorious one, to free
+the mind from superstition and hypocrisy. They encounter with open
+countenance the false devotees who would force men into spiritual
+servitude, that they may become the slaves of their will. You call
+them 'Illuminati,' while they have undertaken to illuminate the
+minds with the beams of knowledge which the Rosicrucians obscure in
+a mystical fog."
+
+"Unhappy one, do you dare to say that to me?" cried Cagliostro,
+menacingly.
+
+"Yes," she responded, keeping her large, brown eyes firmly fixed
+upon Cagliostro's angry face. "That I dare to repeat to you, and I
+would also remark that we are not in the mystical assembly of the
+Rosicrucians, and your familiar 'Du' is out of place. I belong to
+the Illuminati, and mingle with the freethinkers. They have not,
+indeed, promised me titles, honors, or dignities, but they have
+amused me, have driven ennui from the house, and instead of
+mysticisms, brought me poesy, and instead of the invisible holy
+church, the Greek temple. It is possible my life may not be a godly
+one, but it is as happy as the gods, and that is something in this
+tedious world."
+
+"I regard you with astonishment," said Cagliostro, "for I recognize
+in your countenance that the devil has won you over to his power,
+and in you he speaks with the bold insolence of the sinful. Subdue,
+unhappy child, your rash speech, that the Fathers may not hear of
+it, and crush you in their wrath."
+
+"I do not fear their thunderbolts, permit me to tell you. We are in
+Prussia; the great king watches over all his subjects; neither the
+Romish Church nor the Rosicrucians can obscure the light of
+knowledge. He will not suffer a ghost, sneaking in the dark, to
+exercise power here, and he will not refuse the protection to me
+which is accorded to the least of his subjects. I do not fear you,
+and I will tell you the truth entire, I believe you to be a
+hypocrite and a charlatan, who--"
+
+"Miserable one!" interrupted Cagliostro, as he furiously rushed to
+her, seizing her by the arm--"cease, unhappy one, or your life is
+forfeited to the invisible avengers!"
+
+Wilhelmine shook her head, and encountered his flaming eyes with a
+proud glance. "I repeat your own words--cease, or your life will be
+forfeited! Perhaps you think I do not know what happened to you in
+Mittau, where you were recognized as a charlatan, who fooled the
+poor creatures into the belief of his miraculous acts, which
+consisted in lightening their purses to the benefit of his own. You
+were obliged to flee from MitLau in the night, to save yourself,
+your treasures, and wonderful man-traps, and the beautiful Lorenza
+Feliciana. Beware! The Empress of Russia had a certain Joseph
+Balsamo pursued, who had practised great deception, and people
+pretend that he resembles Count Cagliostro. The Empress Catherine is
+a good friend and ally of the King of Prussia, and if the happy idea
+should occur to me to propose seeking the necromancer here, the
+Great Kophta might come a miserable end."
+
+"On the contrary, it would only be a welcome occasion for the Great
+Kophta to reveal himself, and hurl his despicable, malicious enemy
+into the dust at his feet," replied Cagliostro, calmly. "Try it, you
+faithless, fallen daughter of the Invisibles--try to unloose the
+pack of my enemies, to recognize that all their yelling and barking
+does not trouble the noble stag to whom God has given the whole
+world for His forestward that He should rule therein. I have
+listened to you unto the end, and I regard your invectives and
+accusations as not worthy of a reply or justification, and I laugh
+at your menaces. But I warn you, Wilhelmine Enke, defy not the
+Invisibles, and offend not the Holy Fathers, by your continued
+resistance. Turn, misguided child of sin--turn while there is yet
+time! In their name I offer you a last chance, their forbearance is
+without bounds, and their mercy long enduring."
+
+"I neither desire your forbearance nor mercy," cried she, proudly.
+"I will have no companionship with my enemies, and the Rosicrucians
+are such, for Bischofswerder and Woellner both hate me, and would
+put me aside. There is no reconciliation where only hostility is
+possible."
+
+"The heavenly listen not to the voices of the earthly, and prove
+themselves, the most noble when the least deserved. They will
+protect and watch over you, even against your will, and never will
+they be deaf to your cry for aid in the hour of Here is a token of
+their grace toward you. Take this ring--do you recognize it?"
+
+Wilhelmine regarded it attentively. "This is the ring which I gave
+at the tribute-altar instead of gold, which you desired."
+
+"The Invisibles sent it to you to-day as the precious pledge of
+their favor. You shall keep it, and wear it as a token of their
+heavenly forbearance, and when you turn back from the erroneous ways
+into which the Illuminati have led you, send it to the circle of
+Berlin directors, either Bischofswerder or Wollner, and they will
+come to your rescue. Farewell! I forgive you all your wicked words,
+which fall like spent arrows from the helmet of my righteousness."
+
+Cagliostro turned proudly away, and disappeared in the bushes.
+
+Wilhelmine placed the ring upon her finger, turning it to watch the
+play of colors. "I do not know why," said she, "but it has not the
+same brilliancy as formerly. I will take it to the jeweller Wagner,
+and ask him if it is the same stone. Perhaps the Great Kophta has
+tried some of his miracles upon it. I will at once send the servant
+to Minister von Herzberg, and inform him that Cagliostro is here. He
+has promised me protection in the name of the king, and I feel that
+I shall now have need of it."
+
+She hurried to the house, and devoted herself to the writing of the
+said letter--a task she was but little accustomed to. She had
+learned to speak French very prettily, and to express herself
+skilfully and wittily in German, and under her royal master, the
+crown prince Frederick William, gained much valuable scientific
+knowledge. But to write fluently was quite another thing, and it was
+a long time before the epistle was finished. However, happily
+accomplished, she commanded the servant to take it to Berlin.
+
+He bowed with silent submission; but once having quitted the house,
+a cunning smile was visible upon his face, and he availed himself of
+a stage-coach which was going in the same direction. "I can afford
+this expense," said he, arranging himself comfortably. "When I have
+money in my pocket why should I walk the long distance? I was very
+clever to tell Bischofswerder that the Minister von Herzberg had
+secretly visited my mistress, and it was equally clever of him to
+give me a louis d'or, and promise me the same every time that I
+should bring him important news. Indeed, I think to-day he may well
+thank me, and I believe, if I often inform him, he will advance me a
+degree, and at last I shall be admitted to the circle of the elect,
+while I now belong to the outside circle, who know nothing and hope
+every thing."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+THE TRIUMVIRATE.
+
+
+While Wilhelmine's servant gave himself up to his hopes, slowly down
+the broad avenue, an elegant four-in-hand carriage rolled past him,
+and stopped at the house where lived Colonel Bischofswerder, long
+before he had reached the Brandenburg Gate. A gentleman sprang out,
+hastening past the footman into the house, where a servant evidently
+awaited his arrival, and preceded him with devout mien, throwing
+open the wide folding-doors and announcing, in a solemn voice--" His
+excellency, Count Cagliostro." He then respectfully withdrew, bowing
+profoundly as the count passed, and closed quickly and noiselessly
+the doors behind him.
+
+The two gentlemen within hastened to meet the count, who nodded
+smilingly, and extended to them with a gracious condescension his
+white hand sparkling with diamonds. "My dear brothers," said he,
+"you have unfortunately announced me the truth--Wilhelmine Enke is
+faithless--is an apostate."
+
+"A courtesan, ensnared by the devil of unchastity," murmured the
+elder of the two--a man of long, lank figure, pale, pock-marked
+face, the broad high forehead shaded with but little hair, the
+watery blue eyes turned upward, as if in pious ecstasy, and the
+large, bony hands either folded as if in prayer, or as if in quiet
+contemplation, twirling his thumbs around each other. "I have always
+said so," said he, with a long-drawn sigh; "she is a temptress, whom
+Satan, in bodily repetition of himself, has placed by the prince's
+side, and his salvation cannot be counted upon until this person is
+removed."
+
+"And you, my beloved brother, think otherwise--do you not?" asked
+Cagliostro, gently.
+
+"Yes," answered Bischofswerder, "you know well, sublime master and
+ruler, how much I esteem and love the worthy and honorable Wollner,
+and how much weight his opinion has with me. In all my reports to
+the Invisible Fathers I have always particularly mentioned him, and
+it was upon my wish and proposal that they appointed him director of
+one of the three Berlin circles. He is occupied near me in the
+confederacy, and is also in the service of the crown prince, for it
+was by my especial, earnest recommendation that his highness called
+him to Berlin from the exchequer of Prince Henry at Rheinsberg, that
+he might give him lectures in politics and other branches of
+administration, I do not say it to boast, although I have always
+regarded it as an honor to have opened the way to a distinguished
+man, to have his great talents properly valued. I only say it to
+prove my high appreciation of dear brother Wollner, and to defend
+myself, master, in your eyes, that I differ in opinion from him, and
+do not advise a violent removal of this person, to whom the prince
+is more attached than he himself knows of."
+
+"It is not necessary to excuse yourself to me, my son," said
+Cagliostro, pompously. "The eyes which the Invisibles have lighted
+up with a beam of revelation, see into the depths of things, and
+reveal the most hidden. I have glanced into your hearts, and I will
+tell you that which I have therein read. You, Hans Rudolph von
+Bischofswerder, belong to the world; its joys and sorrows agitate
+you. You have a longing for science and the knowledge of the
+Invisibles, and you would also enjoy the Visibles, and take part in
+the pleasures of life. What you would allow yourself, that you would
+also grant to your royal master, whose friend and leader you are,
+and who, one day, will be the future king and ruler of the visible
+world, and a faithful son and servant of the Invisibles. Is it not
+thus?"
+
+"It is so," answered Bischofswerder, who, with wondering
+astonishment, drank in every word that fell from Cagliostro's lips
+as a revelation. "You have read the inmost thoughts of my heart, and
+what I scarcely suspected myself, you are knowing of, lord and
+master."
+
+"Toil and strive, my son, and you shall rise to the highest grade,
+in which presentiment and recognition, thinking and knowing, are
+one."
+
+He extended to Bischofswerder his hand, who fervently pressed it to
+his lips; then turned to Wollner, who, with upturned gaze and folded
+hands, might have been praying, for his thumbs were not turning
+around, but rested, quietly crossed.
+
+"You, my son and brother," continued Cagliostro, with his lofty,
+haughty reserve, "your thoughts are diverted from earth, and the
+joys of this world have no charm for you!" "I have laid the oath of
+virtue and chastity upon the altar of the Invisibles," replied
+Wollner, with a severe tone of voice. "I have given myself to a
+pious life of abstinence, and sworn to employ every means to lead
+those that I can attain to upon the narrow path which leads to the
+paradise of science, of knowledge, and heavenly joys. How could I
+forget my oath, which is to win the prince, who is to become a light
+and shield in the holy order, from tbe broad course of vice, to the
+pathway of the blest? How can I bear to see him lost in sin who is
+elected to virtue, and who longs for the light of knowledge?"
+
+"But, in order to bear the light in its brightness, he must have
+passed through the darkness and gloom of sin," said Cagliostro.
+"After the days of error follow those of knowledge. This is what
+causes the mildness of our brother Theophilus, whom the earthly
+world calls Bischofswerder, whilst you, brother Chrysophorus, demand
+from the prince the severest virtue, which is the first great vow of
+the brothers advancing in the holy order of the Rosicrucians. You
+are both wrong and both right. It is well to be lenient as brother
+Theophilus, but that must have its limit, and the night wanderer who
+stands upon the brink of a precipice must be awakened, but not with
+violent words, or calling loudly his name, because a sudden
+awakening would only hasten his fall. Slowly and carefully must he
+be roused; as one would by degrees accustom the invalid eyes to the
+mid-day, so must the light of virtue and knowledge dawn upon the
+eyes, ill from vice, with prudent foresight. Hear my proposal.
+Summon the three circles of the brothers of the highest degree to a
+sitting to-night. You have told me that the prince desires to belong
+to the seeing ones, and be in communion with the spiritual world.
+This night his wish shall be fulfilled, to see the spirits, and a
+new future shall rise before him. My time is limited; let us arrange
+every thing, for the voices of the Invisibles already call me home."
+
+At this instant a modest knocking was heard at the door, which was
+repeated at different intervals.
+
+"It is my servant," said Bischofswerder, "and he has undoubtedly an
+important communication for me."
+
+He opened the door, speaking with the person outside in a low tone,
+and returned with a sealed note.
+
+Cagliostro, apparently, was lest in deep thought and indifferent to
+the conversation without, directing quietly and calmly, in the mean
+time, a few questions to Wollner, and, as it seemed, listening only
+to his answers. Yet as Bischofswerder approached him, saying, "it
+is, indeed, important news; I have proof in hand that--" he
+interrupted him with a commanding motion, and finished the broken
+sentence: "--that Wilhelmine Enke is a powerful adversary, having
+connection with the court, as this letter from her is directed to
+Minister Herzberg. Is it not this that you would say, Theophilus?"
+
+Astonished, he replied in the affirmative, begging his master to
+read it.
+
+"It is unnecessary," replied Cagliostro, waving back the letter; "to
+the seeing eyes every thing is revealed. This person announces to
+Minister von Herzberg that the deceiver and necromancer, Cagliostro,
+in his flight from Mittau, has visited her to menace her. She begs
+protection for herself and an arrest for me; that I am known as
+Count Julien, at the hotel King of Portugal, at Berlin, and that
+haste is necessary."
+
+Both gentlemen glanced astonished and enraptured, first at the
+sealed epistle and then at the great Magus.
+
+"Open the letter and convince yourselves of the contents!" commanded
+Cagliostro.
+
+"It is unnecessary," cried Bischofswerder, with enthusiasm. "We
+recognize in you truth and knowledge; you have revealed to us the
+contents."
+
+"Nay, there is a lingering doubt in the mind of brother
+Chrysophorus!" said Cagliostro, regarding Woellner fixedly, who
+stood with downcast eyes before him.
+
+"My ruler and master," stammered Woellner, in confusion, "I dare not
+doubt, only--"
+
+"You would only be convinced, open then the letter," interrupted
+Cagliostro, sarcastically.
+
+With a sharp knife, Bischofswerder cut the end of the envelope, and
+handed the letter to him.
+
+"Give it to Chrysophorus," commanded the count. "He shall read it,
+and may the incredulous become a believer!"
+
+Woellner perused the epistle with a slightly tremulous voice,
+stopping now and then, at an illegible word, which his master
+quickly supplied to him, finishing the sentence as correctly as if
+he held the writing in his hand.
+
+The contents were exactly as Cagliostro had given them, and the
+farther Wollner read, the more his voice quivered and
+Bischofswerder's enthusiasm increased.
+
+As the reading was finished, the former sank, with uplifted hands,
+before his master, as if imploring mercy from a mighty, crushing
+power.
+
+"I have been unbelieving as Tobias, doubting as Paul; have mercy on
+me, O master! for in this hour the divine light of belief and
+knowledge banishes doubt from my sinful heart. I acknowledge thy
+supernatural power and heavenly wisdom! My whole being bows in
+humility before you and your sublimity, and henceforth I will only
+be your humble scholar and servant, the tool of your will. Forgive
+me, all-knowing one, if my heart doubted. Breathe upon me the breath
+of knowledge, and lay thy august right hand upon my head, and
+penetrate me with thy heavenly power."
+
+"Have mercy upon me also," cried Bischofswerder, as he kneeled
+beside Woellner, and, like him, raised his hands imploringly to
+Cagliostro. "Breathe upon me the breath of thy grace, and regard me,
+the repentant and unworthy, with thy heavenly glance!"
+
+Cagliostro looked to heaven, and from his lips there fell
+disconnected words of exhortation; suddenly he drew forth his hands,
+which he had pushed into his gown and crossed upon his breast,
+stretching them out with wide-spread fingers.
+
+"Come to me, ye spirits!" he cried, in a loud, thundering voice. "Ye
+spirits of fire and air, come to me! Ye shall flame and burn upon
+the heads of these two persons and announce to them that the
+Invisibles are with us. Come to me, ye spirits of fire!"
+
+He clinched his fingers, extending them again, and upon the points
+there danced and flickered a blue light. A heavenly smile shone upon
+the beautiful face of the Magus, his hands slowly sank upon the
+heads of the kneeling ones, the flames gliding upon their heads,
+resting there a moment, and then dying away.
+
+"The Invisibles have proclaimed themselves to you through the sign
+of fire," cried Cagliostro. "The sacred flame has glowed upon your
+heads, and I now press upon your brow the solemn kiss of
+consecration and knowledge!"
+
+He bowed down to the kneeling ones. It seemed as if a cloud of
+perfume had passed over their glowing faces, or as if an odorous
+lily had been pressed upon their foreheads, and their hearts
+quivered with delight. He passed his hand lightly over their faces,
+and a feeling of rapture spread through their whole being. Then as
+he commanded them to rise, they obeyed, without realizing that they
+had limbs or body, but regarded the miracle-worker, entranced with
+his smile.
+
+Cagliostro, with hasty decision and earnest, commanding air, made a
+few opposite strokes in the air, and immediately the faces of the
+magnetized looked as if they had awakened from a dream of splendor
+and delight to insipid, flat reality.
+
+"I have permitted you to behold, for an instant, the mysteries and
+miracles which are serviceable to the knowing ones," said
+Cagliostro, with calm earnestness. "Your souls were in communion
+with the Invisibles, and from the source of knowledge a spark of
+illumination fell upon your heads. Guard it as a heavenly secret
+that no one should know of, and now let us continue our
+conversation."
+
+"Permit me once more to lay my head at your feet, and receive power
+from the touch thereof," implored Bischofswerder.
+
+"Let me embrace your knees, and entreat pardon and grace," begged
+Woellner, as he sank down to clasp them, and the former threw
+himself at the feet of his master, passionately kissing them.
+
+Smilingly he received their homage, and assisted them to rise.
+
+"Now let us speak in a human, reasonable manner, my friends. Brother
+Theophilus, you, first of all, return the letter to the envelope and
+seal it."
+
+Bischofswerder obeyed; taking from the table a little bottle and a
+small brush, he carefully applied an adhesive substance to the
+edges, pressing them firmly together.
+
+"Master, no one could discover that it had been opened. Command what
+shall be done with it."
+
+"Give it to your servant, that he may return it to him who brought
+it, and the latter can now deliver it at its address."
+
+"To the Minister Herzberg!" they both cried, amazed. "It is
+impossible; he is a sworn enemy of the holy order and your own
+heavenly person. He could take the most violent measures, and cause
+your excellency to be arrested."
+
+"I believe it," smiled Cagliostro. "The great Frederick would
+announce triumphantly that he had had the great Semiramis of the
+North taken, which the Russian police had failed to accomplish. It
+would be a welcome triumph for unbelievers and fools, and they would
+trumpet it joyfully through the world! It must not be; although my
+spirit in its power and might would soon release my body, yet I will
+not grant this momentary triumph to my enemies. My time is limited;
+I must forth to Egypt, where the Brothers of the Millennium will
+assemble in the course of a week in the pyramids, to announce to me
+their will for the coming century. I am the Spirit of God, which the
+Invisibles have willed to enter a human form, therefore it must be
+regarded as sacred and protected."
+
+"Allow me to guard, with my life, your sublime person!" cried
+Bischofswerder.
+
+"And I also implore you to grant me the happiness to watch over the
+security of your heavenly self, and defend it to the last drop of my
+blood!" cried Woellner; "only tell us what we have to do."
+
+"Above all things obey my command concerning the letter," replied
+the count, smiling.
+
+Bischofswerder submissively went out with the epistle, returning in
+a few moments. "It is as you have ordered: in a quarter of an hour
+it will be in the hands of Minister Herzberg."
+
+"No," replied the count, fixing his eyes upon empty space, "it will
+not be there, for Herzberg is not at home. I now see him driving in
+a carriage with four black steeds to the country. At this instant he
+is crossing a bridge, now he enters a town, turning down one of the
+streets, where the noise of the wheels is lost. Again I hear him,
+leaving by the gate, ascending a broad avenue."
+
+It is the route to Sans-Souci," murmured Bischofswerder, in a low
+voice, but the count must have understood him, as he repeated aloud:
+
+"Yes, that is the route to Sans-Souci, and the lonely, fretful old
+king will keep his minister the entire day, and will not receive the
+missive from his secret female accomplice until his return in the
+evening, and then he will dispatch his bailiffs in all haste to the
+hotel to arrest Count St. Julien, and forward an order to every gate
+to forbid his departure. It will be too late, however--he will have
+already departed."
+
+"Departed1" cried the two gentlemen, frightened. "Will you, then,
+forsake us?"
+
+"Hush, my brothers, be quiet!" answered Cagliostro. "I shall have
+departed for the profane, but I will remain here for the consecrated
+until to-morrow morning. It oft happens that the lofty even must
+come down, and the brilliant obscure themselves. To-day I must
+descend from my spiritual height, and humble myself in the dust of
+lowliness. When the unholy and unconsecrated essay to behold that
+which they should not with their earthly eyes; they must be blinded
+with earthly dust, and for those which are not worthy of miracles,
+we must sometimes condescend to jugglers' tricks. By the latter I
+will mislead my enemies to-day. How many gates are there to the city
+of Berlin?"
+
+"There are nine, master."
+
+"Send immediately messengers around in your circles to order eight
+travelling-carriages and sixteen large black trunks. Further, send
+me eight confidential discreet men of my height and size, with eight
+perukes, exactly the cut of mine. Command four post-horses, with two
+postilions for eight different addresses. This is all that is
+necessary for the moment."
+
+"All shall be faithfully and quickly accomplished," said
+Bischofswerder, humbly. "We will divide the execution of your
+orders, and there only remains to appoint the time and place when
+and where to direct the postilions."
+
+"All this will follow; forget not, in trifling, earthly things, the
+great heavenly circumstances. Summon the consecrated of the highest
+degree of your circle to go to-night to the palace of Prince
+Frederick William at Potsdam, and under the very eyes of the old
+freethinking king we will open to the crown prince the doors of the
+spiritual world, and consecrate him to the highest degree. But first
+the Invisibles shall speak with him, and announce the heavenly
+region of the unapproachable. Finish the preparations, my brothers--
+fulfil exactly and punctually my orders, and then come to the hotel
+to receive my last commands."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+FUTURE PLANS.
+
+
+Cagliostro quitted the two confidants, entered his carriage awaiting
+him before the door, and drove to the hotel. The host and chief
+waiter received him with extreme deference, both accompanying him up
+the stairs--the latter throwing wide open the large doors of his
+room. The count turned, and, in addressing some indifferent question
+to the host, opened his gold-embroidered blue satin vest.
+
+The host turned pale, and shrank back, as if seized with a sudden
+fright. Cagliostro passed on, motioning him to follow, which he
+humbly obeyed, sinking upon his knees as the door closed.
+
+"Have you recognized the sign which I wear upon my breast?"
+
+"Yes, master," he stammered, bowing down with the greatest
+reverence.
+
+"Then you belong to the elect of the Inner Temple, for the sign of
+knowledge is only made known to them."
+
+"I do, indeed, understand its mysteries, master, and I know that one
+of the Invisibles, in infinite condescension, appears in a visible
+form before me. Immeasurable as the happiness, is my obedience!
+Command me, master; my life and riches belong to the holy alliance!"
+
+"Rise and receive my orders," replied Cagliostro, with great
+dignity. In a brief, dictatorial manner he communicated the
+necessary arrangements; then dismissed him with a haughty nod, and
+entered the adjoining room of his wife, Lorenza Feliciana.
+
+She had thrown herself upon the divan, in charming neglige. Her head
+was encircled with black ringlets, which she wore unpowdered,
+despite the fashion. Her eyes were closed, and her beautiful
+shoulders were but half concealed by a black lace veil.
+
+She slept so quietly and soundly that the count did not awaken her
+upon entering. He approached her lightly upon the soft carpet, and
+stood regarding her attentively. A pleasant smile spread over his
+face, softening its expression, and his eyes beamed with passionate
+tenderness.
+
+"She is indeed beautiful," he murmured, softly. "No one could
+withstand the charm of this wonderful woman. Ah, would that I could
+crush these wicked spirits within me, silence all these seductive,
+sinful voices, and fly to some secluded valley of our dear
+fatherland, and there, reposing on her love, let life glide calmly
+on and smile at the past without regret, as a fading dream! Would
+that I could forget, and become again pure and innocent, blest in my
+affection, simple in my tastes, and without wants! But no, it is too
+late! I cannot retreat, the demons will not be driven out; to them
+my soul belongs, and I must fulfil my destiny!--Awake, Lorenza,
+awake!" Her beautiful form shook with fright; she started, opened
+her eyes, demanding, "What is the matter? Who is here?"
+
+"It is I, Lorenza," he said, sadly; "I was obliged to awaken you, to
+tell you something important."
+
+"Are the pursuers here? Have they discovered us? Are they coming to
+take us to prison?"
+
+"No, no; be quiet, Lorenza, no one has discovered us!"
+
+"Quiet!" she repeated, with a scornful laugh. "We have travelled day
+and night the last ten days, hiding ourselves in miserable holes and
+dens, under assumed names, believing our pursuers were at our hacks;
+and now that we are showing ourselves publicly, you ask me to be
+quiet! I have slept for the first time since that fearful night in
+Mittau, and it is very cruel and thoughtless of you to wake me, if
+the bailiffs are not here, and danger does not menace us."
+
+"For the moment we are safe, but I have something important to tell
+you."
+
+"Important?" she cried, shrugging her shoulders. "What is of
+consequence to me, since that night? Oh, when I think of it, I could
+shriek with rage, I could annihilate myself in despair!"
+
+"It was indeed a dreadful experience, and my heart quakes when I
+think of it," said Cagliostro, gloomily. "The secret assembly
+consisted of the highest and most influential of the Courland
+nobility. Suspecting no wrong, not even that there could be traitors
+among the believers who would falsify my spirit apparatus, I gave
+myself up to conjuring the departed."
+
+"And I upon my fairy throne," added Lorenza, "couched in the
+innocent costume of the celestial, only veiled with a silvery cloud,
+heard a sudden shriek. The room was quite dark; I saw, upon opening
+my eyes, that no spirits enlivened it."
+
+"Every thing failed--that is to say, my assistants let it fail,"
+said the count, "and the assembly began to murmur. Suddenly, instead
+of the departed princes and heroes, what fearful forms arose!"
+
+"Apes, cats, and other animals," cried Lorenza, with a loud laugh.
+"Oh, what an irresistible sight! In spite of my anger I had to
+laugh, and laugh I did upon the fairy throne, like--"
+
+"Like a foolish child who neither knows nor understands danger,"
+interrupted the count. "Your laughing soon ceased in the fearful
+tumult and uproar. They shrieked for light, the ladies fled, and the
+men menaced me with loud curses, calling me a charlatan, and
+threatening my life!"
+
+"Mine also," cried Lorenza; "oh, what insults and ill-treatment I
+was forced to listen to! They rushed upon me, shrieking for the
+brilliants and money which they had brought me as an offering. How
+they scolded and called me a deceiver! I was only very beautiful and
+coquettish, and that was no deception! I charmed them with my
+coyness, and they brought me the most costly presents, because I was
+a virtuous woman. Now they reproached me, demanding a return of them
+all, which they had forced upon me of their own free will. I was
+obliged to bear it silently in my costume of innocence, and as
+goddess I could not defend myself and speak with human beings--who
+pushed up to the throne. It was a very ridiculous position; happily
+I did not quite lose my senses, but let the apparatus play, and
+disappeared into my dressing-room below, which fortunately closed
+above me. I dressed, and rushed to your room to rescue my
+treasures."
+
+"Even in this extreme danger you only thought of your riches, not of
+me," said Cagliostro, with a bitter smile.
+
+"Have you not taught me yourself that money was the only thing worth
+striving to possess? Have you not revealed to in wisdom that riches
+alone make us happy, and procure for us honor, power, love, and
+constancy? Ah! Joseph, have you not made me the miserable, heartless
+creature that I am? Can you reproach me that your teaching has borne
+such good fruit? I am happy to be the priestess of wealth, and
+grateful for what you have made known to me."
+
+"It is true," sighed Cagliostro, "I have taught you the truth of
+things; I have disclosed to you the world's motive power. Riches are
+indeed the god upon earth, toward whom all are pressing, rushing on.
+We must all follow and serve him as slaves, or be crushed under the
+wheels of his triumphal car. Men talk and reason about the storm and
+pressure which is spreading through the world, and finally will
+reduce every thing to storm the eternal and undying bliss of wealth,
+and press on for gold."
+
+"To think that we have lost every thing!" cried Lorenza, springing
+up and stamping with her silken-shod foot; "every thing is lost that
+I have been years gaining, by hypocrisy, deception, and coquetry.
+They have robbed me! The shameful barbarians have seized all our
+effects. The police surrounded the house, guarding every entrance,
+and we were obliged to escape by the roof into the house of one of
+the brothers, leaving all our treasures behind."
+
+"You exaggerate, Lorenza, and represent it worse than it is. Look
+around; you are surrounded with luxury and comfort. Our great
+undertakings in Courland and St. Petersburg have failed, it is true,
+and the Russian empress has ordered me to be driven away and
+pursued. But the Invisible Fathers have not forsaken me, as they
+know that I am a useful tool in their hands. They have carefully
+provided me with money, passports, and instructions. We have lost
+thousands, but we will regain them, for the future is ours. I am
+protected by the order, and called to a new and important mission in
+Paris, to strive for the sacred aim of the Church."
+
+"And have they no mission for me?" asked Lorenza. "Is there nothing
+further for me to do in that city than to be a beautiful woman, and
+play tricks for my dear husband?"
+
+"Great events await you in Paris, which we will aid you to prepare.
+The Invisible Fathers send you before me to the Cardinal de Rohan.
+You are going to Paris in the service of the revolution of minds.
+The carriage is ordered, and you are to set off this very hour."
+
+"And when are you going, Joseph?" Lorenza asked, with a touch of
+melancholy.
+
+"I shall officially depart in an hour, but in reality at the same
+time that the Baroness von Balmore leaves the hotel in her
+travelling-carriage. Near the waiting-maid will a servant sit upon
+the box. I shall be he."
+
+"Officially you depart in an hour; what does that mean?" Cagliostro
+smiled. "It is a long story and a comical one. Come, seat yourself
+by me upon the sofa; repose your head upon me, and listen to what I
+will relate to you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+MIRACLES AND SPIRITS.
+
+
+Late in the afternoon of the same day a travelling-carriage drove up
+before the hotel "King of Portugal," in the Burgstrasse, with two
+large black trunks strapped upon it behind the footman's box, and
+the postilion, sitting by the coachman, playing the beautiful and
+popular air, "Es ritten drei Reuter cum Thore hinaus!"
+
+Count St. Julien descended the stairs, followed by the host, and
+nodded in a lofty manner to the two waiters and hostler awaiting him
+at the entrance, who returned it by a profound bow, at the same time
+not failing to see the white hand extended with the trinkgeld.
+
+The host himself closed the carriage door, and the count departed
+amid the merry peals of the postilion, the former gazing after him
+with the satisfaction of one who has made a good bargain. The
+servants watched it, too, until it had disappeared around the corner
+of the next street.
+
+At this instant the quivering tones of a post-horn were heard, and
+an open caleche appeared and stopped before the hotel with two large
+black travelling-trunks upon it, and the postilion upon the box
+blowing the popular air, "Es ritten drei Reuter zum Thore hinaus!"
+
+The host observed the empty carriage with a smile, but the servants
+asked themselves astonished what it meant, and as they turned and
+saw Count St. Julien descending the stairs, they were startled. He
+offered them the usual trinkgeld, entered the carriage, and rolled
+away with a commanding nod.
+
+The host seemed speechless with astonishment, and stood as if rooted
+to the spot. The servants stared after the carriage until it turned
+the corner; when just then a post-horn was heard playing the
+agreeable melody of "Drei Reuter," and a travelling-carriage with
+two large black trunks drove up to the door.
+
+The servants turned pale, looking shyly toward the stairs. Slowly
+and with great dignity Count St. Julien descended, greeting them
+with a gentlemanly nod as he passed, and, extending his white hand
+with a trinkgeld, mounted his carriage, and drove away.
+
+The host stood as if stunned, outside the door, looking right and
+left with unspeakable terror. The servants tremblingly fixed their
+eyes upon the stairs, no longer possessing the power to move, but
+heard the post-horn, and the carriage which drove up to the door the
+third time. Slowly and proudly Count St. Julien advanced. It was the
+same cold, grave face, with the thick black beard, and the powdered
+peruke, the curls of which overshadowed the brow and cheeks. He wore
+exactly the same dark-brown cloak over the black velvet dress. The
+white hand, with broad lace wrist-ruffles, reached them also a
+trinkgeld.
+
+This time the fellows had scarcely self-possession sufficient to
+take the present, for every thing swam before their eyes, and their
+hearts one moment almost ceased to beat, and then palpitated with
+the feverish rapidity of terror.
+
+"I would run away," murmured the chief waiter, as Count St. Julien
+for the fourth time drove away, "if my feet were not riveted to the
+floor."
+
+"If I could move mine I would have gone long ago," groaned the
+second waiter, the clear drops standing upon his forehead. "It is
+witchcraft! Oh, Heaven! they are coming again, playing the 'Drei
+Reuter.'"
+
+The count descended the stairs for the fifth time, whispered to the
+hostler, who was quite engrossed counting his money, handed the
+trinkgeld to the pale fellows by the door, and mounted his carriage,
+driving away amid the merry peals of the post-horn.
+
+"Julius," murmured the steward, softly, "give my hair a good
+pulling, that I may awake from this horrible dream."
+
+"I cannot," he whimpered, "my hands and feet are lame. I cannot
+move."
+
+"I will," said the hostler, courageously stretching forth his hand,
+and pulling it so vigorously that the steward was fully convinced of
+the reality of things.
+
+Again the post-horn sounded the "Drei Reuter;" again the carriage
+stopped before the door, and the count descended, giving to every
+one a gift like the "Maedchen aus der Fremde," and for the sixth
+time rolled away.
+
+"We are bewitched; it is a ghost from the infernal regions!" groaned
+the steward.
+
+"I cannot abide it any longer--I shall die!" said the second waiter.
+
+"I do not mind it," said the hostler, as he jingled the money; "if
+they are ghosts from hell, the eight groschen do not come from
+there, for they are quite cool. See how--Ah, there comes the count
+again!"
+
+For the seventh time he passed down the stairway, by the servants,
+who wore no longer standing but kneeling, which the count received
+as a proof of their profound respect, and slipped the money into
+their hands.
+
+"Praise God, all good spirits!" murmured the head waiter; but
+neither the count nor the money seemed to be moved by the pious
+exhortation, for he quietly entered his carriage, and the eight
+groschen lay in the servant's hand, at which the hostler remarked
+that he would stand there all night if the count would only
+continually pass by with groschen. It pleased the count to descend
+the stairs yet twice more, divide the trinkgeld, and mount his
+carriage. As he drove away the ninth time, it appeared as if the
+Drei Reuter were determined to drive out of the gate and forsake the
+hotel "King of Portugal." The host waited awhile, and talked with
+the neighbors, who, roused by the continual blast of the post-horn,
+were curious to know how it happened that so many guests were
+departing by extra posts. Whereupon the host, in a hollow,
+sepulchral voice, his eyes glaring, and shrugging his shoulders,
+declared that there had been but one gentleman at the hotel, but
+nine times he had seen him drive away, and the devil must have a
+hand in the matter!
+
+Shaking his head, he returned to the hotel, and found the servants
+busily counting their money, occasionally casting covetous looks
+toward the stairs, as if they hoped the count would again descend.
+
+Exactly as Cagliostro had foretold, Minister Herzberg did not return
+from Sans-Souci until late in the evening, and then found
+Wilhelmine's letter in his cabinet.
+
+Immediately the police were instructed to arrest Count St. Julien at
+the hotel "King of Portugal."
+
+An hour later the chief of the police came to say that the count had
+already been gone two hours. He repeated the account of the host,
+corroborated by the servants, of nine different counts having driven
+away from the hotel.
+
+Herzberg smiled. "We have to deal with a very clever scoundrel,"
+said he, "and it is no other than the so-called Count Cagliostro,
+who was lately exposed as a bold trickster in Mittau and St.
+Petersburg, and about whose arrest the Empress Catharine is very
+much exercised. It would be very agreeable to the king to show this
+little attention to her imperial highness, and trap the adroit
+pickpocket."
+
+"We might succeed in catching him in his flight," remarked the
+chief. "For the last six months the king has given orders that every
+passport should be examined at the gates, and the route of the
+travellers noted down, which is all registered and sent to the king.
+It would be very easy to discover by which gate he departed, and his
+route, and then have him pursued."
+
+"That is well thought of, director; hasten to put it into execution,
+and inform us of the result." He returned in an hour to the
+minister's cabinet, shaking his head gravely. "Your excellency, it
+is very strange, but he is a wizard. This man has driven out of the
+nine gates at the same hour and minute."
+
+Herzberg laughed. "This is one of his tricks, and by it I recognize
+the great necromancer."
+
+"Your excellency, this is no trickery, but witchery. It is
+impossible for any one man to drive out of the nine gates at the
+same hour, in the same carriage, with two large black trunks and a
+postilion blowing the same melody, and provided with a correct
+passport, which he shows and is recognized as Count St. Julien, who
+is going to Paris by Hamburg. Here are the nine registers from the
+different gates, all the same, if I am not bewitched and do not read
+straight."
+
+"This trick does honor to the count," said Herzberg, smiling. "To-
+morrow you shall accompany me to Sans-Souci and read aloud the
+registers to the king. Do you think it will be impossible to pursue
+the count now?"
+
+"I should be very happy to follow your excellency's judgment in this
+matter, and arrest the rascal in any way that you could point out,"
+said the director.
+
+"I am convinced that he is in the city; and driving put of the nine
+gates at the same time was the best manner to escape being
+discovered," said Herzberg. "He is concealed in some one of the
+houses of the brothers, and we shall be obliged to let him escape
+this time."
+
+In order the more securely to carry out the initiation of Prince
+Frederick William, in company with Bischofswerder and Woellner,
+Cagliostro had arranged his pretended departure. For a long time the
+prince had expressed an extreme desire to be received into the
+mysteries of the miraculous and holy order, of which he had heard
+his friends speak with so much reverence. But he had been put off
+from time to time with regrets and shrugs of the shoulders, and
+expressions of the impossibility of granting the request.
+
+"The spirits do not always appear even to the consecrated," said
+Bischofswerder. "They make themselves known after many fervent
+prayers and implorings, and when we have withdrawn from every one
+who could entice us to doubt or disbelief. I fear that it would be
+impossible to conjure the spirits of the departed, so long as your
+highness honors a certain lady with your particular favor, who
+ridicules the sublime order and mingles with its enemies. How can
+they appear to those who have just been in the company of a friend
+of the Illuminati and unbelievers?"
+
+"The spirit-world only reveals itself to the virtuous and pure,"
+said Woellner, in a harsh, dry voice. "Its inhabitants cannot
+approach those who are not chaste and innocent, for sin and vice
+surround them with a thick fog, which keeps them at a distance from
+the clear atmosphere of the sublime. If you would call up the
+spirits, you must remove this woman who entices you from the path of
+virtue, and renders the sphere impure around you."
+
+Despite the warnings and the great wish the prince had to be
+received into the spirit-world, and become a member of the highest
+grade of the Rosicrucians, he could not resolve to forsake her who
+had been his friend for ten years, and who had borne shame and
+degradation on his account, refusing eligible and rich men rather
+than leave him and become a legitimate wife. Wilhelmine was the
+beloved of his youth, the mother of his two dear children, and she
+alone knew how to drive away the ennui which pursued the prince,
+with her amiable, subtle wit. Nay, he could not be so ungrateful, so
+heartless, as to reject her who had so tenderly loved him when young
+and beautiful, now that the first bloom of youth and beauty had
+faded!
+
+Bischofswerder and Woellner recognized this difficulty, and applied
+themselves the more energetically for its removal. They supposed
+that the unexpected arrival of Cagliostro would very naturally
+appear to the prince as a special messenger, sent, without doubt,
+from the fathers, to accomplish his conversion. They announced to
+the prince that the Invisibles had taken pity upon his desire for
+knowledge, and had consented to permit him to gaze into the regions
+of the blest, although he wandered in the path of vice, and that he
+must hold himself in readiness to accompany the messenger whenever
+he should be sent to call him.
+
+For this reason the crown prince had written to Wilhelmine that she
+should not expect him until the following morning, and he did not
+quit his room the entire day, with excited expectation awaiting the
+summons. As evening set in the prince was cast down, and quite of
+the opinion that the Invisibles did not deem him worthy to enter
+their pure presence, and thought that Wilhelmine must be the
+hinderance. Whilst he was reflecting whether to sacrifice his
+beloved to the salvation of his soul, the secret door gently opened,
+and two men, masked and wrapped in black cloaks, entered and placed
+themselves near the door. The prince did not remark their entrance,
+and was quite frightened as he chanced to turn, and saw these two
+immovable figures.
+
+With quivering voice he demanded their mission.
+
+In the same tone, as if one were an echo of the other, they
+answered, "We desire nothing, but you demand knowledge of the
+spirit-world, and would have its mysteries revealed to you, which
+the Invisibles will now grant you. Follow us, therefore!" They
+reopened the secret door; one of the masked preceded the prince, and
+the other followed him.
+
+The prince shuddered at the thought that he might be rushing into
+some unknown danger, and intrusting himself to those who would
+misuse his confidence. He demanded to see their faces, declaring
+himself prepared to follow, when acquainted with his guides.
+
+"It would then be better to remain," replied one of the masked. "He
+who lacks confidence is not worthy of it, and he who trusts only the
+Visibles, the Invisibles flee."
+
+The prince recognized the voice of Bischofswerder, and smiled, but
+he knew not that it was permitted him to hear it to inspire him with
+courage.
+
+"Well, so let it be; the fathers shall see that I am a believer,"
+cried the prince.
+
+Immediately one of the brothers put his own cloak, three-cornered
+hat, and mask upon his highness, still remaining cloaked and masked
+himself, much to the astonishment of the passive prince. "Come, now,
+the Invisibles await you," said one of the masked. The prince
+stepped courageously into the little corridor which led to the
+secret stairway, one brother preceding him, causing a soft light to
+illumine their path, the other following him.
+
+In silence they reached the side-door of the palace, where a close
+carriage awaited them.
+
+"Where are you taking me?" asked Frederick William, as he entered,
+followed by the two brothers.
+
+"To the Invisibles," answered a strange voice.
+
+Again the prince essayed to begin a conversation, his only response
+being, "Purify your heart and pray." Silently they galloped over
+paved and unpaved streets, the prince heartily repenting having been
+drawn into this adventure. He thought of his charming and beloved
+Wilhelmine, and half determined to give the command to drive to
+Charlottenburg. The fact of Bischofswerder being with him, and
+fearful of appearing weak and wanting in courage in the eyes of his
+friend and favorite, prevented him.
+
+After several hours' drive, they stopped at the marble palace of
+Potsdam, near the one which the prince was accustomed to occupy. His
+highness looked cautiously around, and breathed more freely, as he
+felt that he was now surely among friends.
+
+The white palace stood silent and deserted in the darkness, this
+palace at Potsdam being only used for the guests of the king. The
+carriage stopped at the side-door, where there was no sentinel, and
+they alighted, entering the palace, winding along the corridors in
+the same order as before, guided by the glimmering light of the one
+preceding. Solemn music, strange ringing sounds, fell upon the ear
+as they advanced. Sometimes they were sharp and cutting as glass,
+then threatening and penetrating as the wind, shrieking and moaning,
+causing one to be very nervous if not terrified.
+
+The farther they proceeded the louder grew the sounds, and at
+intervals groans, moans and wailings were heard, as of those waiting
+and imploring for mercy.
+
+One of the brothers now opened a door, and then placing themselves
+upon each side, the unknown voice announced to the prince that they
+had arrived at the long-sought-for goal.
+
+"What have we come here for?" asked the prince.
+
+"To behold that which you have many times petitioned to be permitted
+to see," replied Bischofswerder, gently encouraging and inspiring
+Frederick William. "The Invisibles have at last yielded to your
+wishes, and the spirits which you summon will appear. If your
+courage fails you, and you dread the presence of the departed,
+command to be reconducted to your palace, and we will obey; but
+renounce forever the sublime happiness of beholding the Invisibles
+and of holding communion with the spirit-world!"
+
+"I fear not, but wish to be in the company of the spirits," answered
+the prince, proudly.
+
+"Kneel," they commanded, permitting him to enter, "and thrice summon
+in a loud voice the names of three departed, who will answer your
+questions. Beware of approaching them, for their glance is death and
+their breath destruction! Therefore remain kneeling, as it becomes a
+mortal in the presence of an immortal. Hope and pray, brother!"
+
+As the door closed upon the prince, and he found himself in such
+impenetrable darkness, he sank upon his knees, for he dared not
+advance, and retreat was impossible, in spite of heart-quakings.
+
+The shrill, penetrating music ceased, and a voice from a distance
+called: "Summon thrice those that thou desirest to see."
+
+"Marcus Aurelius, Leibnitz, and the distinguished elector," called
+the prince in a loud voice.
+
+"Who summoned me?" was responded in hollow, sepulchral tones, and
+directly over the crown prince a blue, vaporous light was visible--
+at first only a cloud, then by degrees increasing and condensing
+itself into a human shape, until it took the form of a Roman warrior
+of the olden time; no other than Marcus Aurelius, in helmet and
+coat-of-mail, with a pale, earth-colored face and glaring eyes.
+
+"Who summoned me?" repeated the figure. The prince's lips refused to
+respond, and shuddering he gazed upon the corpse-like face, so exact
+in feature to the old Roman emperor.
+
+"You answer me not!" thundered the voice, "but I will tell you who
+you are--one lost in sin and an apostate!--the crown prince of
+Prussia, a future king, who will be called to govern a people, and
+knows not self-government! Turn from the path of vice while it is
+yet time; rise from the dust, that the ashes of retribution do not
+bury you in a living tomb, like the sinful Pompeians. No monument
+marks the place of the sinful; he sinks into the night of oblivion,
+or he is cursed by succeeding generations. Therefore turn from the
+errors of sin. Rise to virtue, that the blessed may approach you. I
+shudder in your presence. Woe to you! woe! woe!"
+
+The cloud-portrait vanished, and darkness reigned for a moment. The
+prince cried in anguish: "I will hear no more; this air oppresses
+me--open the door--I renounce communion with the spirits; I will go
+out!"
+
+The light reappeared in the dark room and another form hovered over
+the prince--of grave, obscure face, with a great peruke, staring at
+him. He recognized the distinguished philosopher Leibnitz, whom he
+had desired to see, but who now filled him with unspeakable terror.
+Like the former spirit, he also, when unanswered, reproached the
+erring prince, conjuring him to return to virtue.
+
+As the menacing ghost disappeared, the prince felt for the door, and
+shook it with the power which terror lends, crying, "Open, open!" It
+opened not, and the third summoned, the great elector, Frederick
+William, appeared, with high, up-lifted arm, glittering eyes,
+advancing with angry mien, shaking his lion's mane against the
+erring son of his house, whom he menaced with curses and revenge, if
+he did not renounce the courtesan who had seduced him to vice and
+unchastity.
+
+"I will become better," groaned the prince. "I will perform the wish
+of the spirits. Only have mercy on me--free me. Help! help! Open the
+door, Bischofswerder, I will do better. Open the door!"
+
+This time it really opened, and a long train of dark, masked forms
+entered the dusky room surrounding the prince, wringing their hands,
+imploring him to turn from sin, and forsake the unholy woman.
+
+They whimpered, they implored, sinking upon their knees, beating
+their clinched hands, and weeping: "Turn, beloved elect! Renounce
+Wilhelmine Enke; renounce vice! Repulse the seductress, and turn
+your countenance to Virtue which you have seen in all her beauty!"
+
+"I will perform that which you demand," wept the prince, as the
+deathly terror and nervous excitement made him yielding.
+
+"Swear!" cried the chorus of masks.
+
+"I swear that Wilhelmine Enke shall no longer be my mistress. I
+swear by all that is holy that I will renounce her! I--"
+
+Voice failed him; there was a ringing and buzzing in his ears; every
+thing swam before his eyes, and he sank fainting. The prince awoke
+after long unconsciousness, and found himself upon his bed in the
+new palace at Potsdam, Bischofswerder at his side, watching him with
+the tenderest sympathy. He bent over him and pressed his hand to his
+lips with a cry of delight. "Heaven be praised; my dear prince, you
+have awaked to commence a new life! You now belong to the virtuous
+and honorable, whom the Invisible Fathers bless!"
+
+"Is it true, Bischofswerder," said the prince, languidly, "that I
+have sworn to renounce Wilhelmine Enke, and never to love her more?"
+
+"You have sworn it by all that is holy, and all in heaven and on
+earth have heard your oath, and there is joy thereat."
+
+The prince turned his head, that Bischofswerder might not see the
+tears streaming down his cheeks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+THE RETURN HOME.
+
+
+The beautiful house which Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen possessed upon
+the finest street in Berlin, "Unter den Linden," had been newly
+arranged and splendidly ornamented since his marriage and elevation
+to a title, and now awaited his arrival. For many weeks mechanics
+and artists had been busily employed; and the good housekeeper, old
+Trude, saw with bewildering astonishment the daily increasing
+splendor of gilded furniture, costly mirrors and chandeliers, soft
+carpets, tapestries, and gold-embroidered curtains, exquisite
+paintings and statuary, which the possessor had forwarded from
+Italy, and many other objects of art standing upon gilt and marble
+tables.
+
+Every thing was completed. The bustle of the busy workmen had
+ceased, and Trude slowly wandered through the solitary rooms,
+examining every article. Her face bespoke dissatisfaction, and a
+smile of contempt was visible there.
+
+"Miserable trash, for which they have sold my poor child!" murmured
+the old woman. "For these worthless, glittering toys have they
+ruined the happiness of the dear innocent heart, and on them the
+guilt will fall if her soul is lost! I remark how she is changed in
+her letters since her shameful, mercenary marriage. She writes of
+nothing but the arrangement of her house, and speaks as if the
+beauty and costliness of things were only to be thought of, and
+there is not even a confidential, heart-felt word for her old Trude.
+It would seem as if she had forgotten all former objects of
+interest. Oh, what trouble and sorrows the rich have! That good-for-
+nothing money hardens their hearts and makes them evil and selfish."
+
+The loud ringing of a bell sounded through the solitary drawing-
+rooms.
+
+"That is, undoubtedly, the general's wife," said Trude, shaking her
+head. "She rings as if she would announce the king, with her nose
+turned up so high, or as if she were the money-sacks of her son-in-
+law!"
+
+Trude was right; her shrill voice was heard ordering the steward,
+who had but just arrived. "It is abominable, it is unheard of!" she
+cried, as with a heavy push she burst open the door; "this man
+presumes to contradict me, and--ah, there you are, Trude!"
+
+"Here I am," she answered; "were you looking for me?"
+
+"Yes, and I would ask you if my orders are not the same as if given
+by Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen or his wife, or have you instructed
+the new steward otherwise, which, it is laughable to say, you have
+engaged?"
+
+"No, I have not instructed him thus. Dear Marie has not ordered it
+in her letter."
+
+"Dear Marie," repeated Frau von Werrig. "How can you permit yourself
+to speak so intimately of the rich Baroness von Ebenstreit?"
+
+"Very true, it is not right," sighed Trude; "I beg pardon."
+
+"I came here to see if every thing was in readiness, and ordered the
+steward to ornament the doors and corridors with garlands of
+flowers; he has had the boldness to tell me he dares not do it!"
+
+"He is right, Frau von Leuthen. Baroness Ebenstreit von Leuthen
+(have I got the title right?) wrote and expressly forbade any
+festivity to greet her arrival. Here is the letter--I carry it
+around with me; I will read it to you: 'I expressly forbid any
+manifestation whatever to be made at our return, whether of garlands
+or flowers, as they are only hypocrisy and falsehood. I wish no one
+there to receive me--remember, Trude, no one! Inform my family that,
+as soon as I have recovered from the fatigue of the journey, I will
+make them the visit of duty with the baron.'"
+
+"What cold, heartless words are these! One could hardly believe that
+a daughter was writing of her parents."
+
+"On her wedding-day she perhaps forgot that she had any," said
+Trude, shrugging her shoulders, "and she should not be at once
+reminded of that trying occasion on her return. I expect her every
+moment, as the courier has already arrived an hour ago, and it would
+be better--"
+
+"You cannot be so impudent as to tell me to leave? Indeed, I will
+not be prevented from waiting to receive my only child that I have
+not seen for three years. One can well believe that a mother would
+be impatient to embrace her dear daughter! I have no other happiness
+but my beloved child, and I long, unspeakably, to press her to my
+heart and tell her my sorrow."
+
+"Sorrow! is it possible that Frau von Werrig has any griefs? I
+supposed there was nothing in the world troubled her."
+
+"And yet I am very much tormented. I can well tell you, Trude, as
+you are familiar with our circumstances," sighed the countess. "You
+know the general is tolerably well; the journeys to Wiesbaden and
+Teplitz have cured him of the gout unfortunately, so that he can go
+about."
+
+"Are you sorry for that, Frau von Werrig?"
+
+"Certainly I am, Trude, as he has returned to his former habits,
+frequenting the society of drinking-houses and gamblers. Imagine the
+general played yesterday, lost all his ready money, and that was not
+enough, but signed away the year's pension from Herr von Ebenstreit,
+during which time we have nothing but the miserable army annuity to
+live upon."
+
+"Then your income will be less to live upon than formerly, for dear
+Marie earned something with her flowers and lessons which she gave
+to you, although she was never thanked for it. She was then my dear
+good Marie, so industrious and patient, and worked untiringly for
+her parents! Then she forgot them not, and toiled early and late,
+and, oh, it breaks my heart to think of it, and I must cry in your
+presence!
+
+She raised the corner of her dark-blue apron and dried her eyes,
+holding it there as she continued to weep.
+
+"What an ugly apron!" cried the countess, "and how meanly you are
+dressed altogether! Is that the way you intend to go looking as the
+housekeeper of a rich and genteel family? Go, Trude, quickly, and
+put something better on, that you may receive your master and
+mistress in a suitable dress."
+
+"I shall remain as I am, for I am very properly dressed. It may not
+be suitable for a housekeeper, but it becomes old Trude, and it is
+my Sunday frock, which I always wore when I was maid-of-all-work to
+you. You may not remember it, but dear Marie (I should say Baroness
+von Ebenstreit) will, perhaps, and it may recall her little room in
+the garret, and then--"
+
+"And then she will at last think, Trude, how we took care of her,
+and how thankful she ought to be to her parents that they married
+her to a rich man. If Marie sees it at last--"
+
+"You forget with whom you speak, Frau von Werrig," Trude interrupted
+her, scornfully, "and that it does not become you to speak of Marie
+to old Trude, but you should remember her title."
+
+"Well, then, when Baroness von Ebenstreit enters this costly house,
+she must understand that her mother was mindful of her best
+interests, and that she owes all this to her; and you, Trude, must
+remind her of it, and tell her about my dreadful trial with her
+father, and that it is my daughter's duty to release me from it, and
+beg her husband not to deduct the gambling-debt from the pension,
+but pay it this once. For it would be a dreadful injustice to make
+me suffer for the general's rage for play, and show but little
+gratitude for the riches which I brought her. You will tell my
+daughter all this, Trude, and--"
+
+"I will not tell her any thing at all, Frau von Werrig,"
+interrupted. Trude, warmly. "May my good genius keep me from that,
+and burdening my conscience with such falsehoods.--Hark! A carriage
+is coming, and a post-horn sounded. They have arrived!"
+
+Old Trude hurried out just as they drove up to the door. The steward
+and two servants in livery rushed down the steps to assist them to
+alight, and Trude also to greet her favorite, who was now so pale,
+grave, and chilling in her appearance.
+
+The large eyes of the lady rested with cold indifference upon the
+old woman, whose eyes were turned to her with the tenderest
+expression. "I thank you," she said, coldly. "Husband! I beg you to
+give me your arm." Proudly she passed the statuary, and over the
+soft carpets without comment, or even a word for old Trude.
+
+The steward and housekeeper followed the silent couple.
+
+"Shall I take you to your room first?" asked Ebenstreit, "or will
+you do me the pleasure to look at the newly-arranged drawing-rooms?"
+
+"Certainly," she replied, with indifference. "We will first look at
+the drawing-rooms, as we shall probably receive much company this
+winter, and they are of the first importance. You know that I
+dislike solitude."
+
+"Indeed, I recall that we are very seldom alone!" sighed her
+husband.
+
+"It would be fearful if we were," replied his wife, with marked
+indifference.
+
+The steward just now opened the little door of the ante-room,
+sparkling with chandeliers and mirrors. "Ah! this is really
+beautiful, and well chosen," cried Ebenstreit, looking about with an
+air of great pride and satisfaction. "Tell me, Marie, is it not
+worthy of you?"
+
+Glancing coldly around, she replied: "It does not please at all. The
+furniture is very costly, and reminds one of the parvenu. Every
+thing recalls the riches of the newly-titled banker."
+
+Her husband's brow contracted, but he did not trust himself to
+contest his dissatisfaction with his cold, proud wife, but sought
+another vent for it.
+
+"You are very unkind, Marie. Have the goodness to tell me how you,
+with these severe ideas, can suffer that Trude for a moment should
+appear before us in this poor-looking dress which, indeed, does not
+recall any wealth!"
+
+Frau von Ebenstreit's eyes glanced quickly over the old who, she
+said, was the only object which did not bespeak the gaudiness of
+newly-acquired wealth, but she appeared as the respectable servant
+of an old and noble family in fitting dress. "Remain as you are,
+Trude, and do not let yourself be misled by our follies! I--but what
+is that I see?" she cried as the steward opened the next door at the
+silent nod of her husband.
+
+"Oh, my beloved children, there you are at last; after three years'
+absence I have the happiness to embrace you, my only daughter,"
+cried Frau von Werrig, as she approached them with outstretched arms
+and an affectionate smile, essaying to throw her arms around Marie's
+neck, who waved her back.
+
+"My child, my child," whimpered the mother, "is it possible that my
+daughter can receive me thus after so long a separation?"
+
+Turning to Trude, Marie asked her, with a reproving look and tone,
+if she had received her letter, or if she had forgotten her express
+commands that no one but the servants should be in the house to
+receive them."
+
+"I did not forget it, my lady, and I have read the orders to Frau
+von Werrig, but she--"
+
+"Knew that this wish had no reference to her, as she is her mother--
+Tell me, my beloved son, is it not very natural and fitting that I
+should be here to receive you?'
+
+"I find it a matter of course," answered Von Ebenstreit, to whom it
+appeared a relief to find an ally in the mother against his proud
+and beautiful wife. "I rejoice to see our dear mother here, and I
+beg Marie will join me."
+
+Marie cast an angry glance toward her husband, which so confused and
+perplexed him, that he looked down. Then advancing toward the
+drawing-room, with her usual cold demeanor, without further comment
+upon the ostentatious furniture, she commanded her husband to
+follow, who obeyed, giving his arm to his mother-in-law.
+
+"Oh, this is glorious!" he cried, smiling. "What splendor, what
+luxury! Tell me, my dear mother, is not this beautiful reception-
+room very aristocratically and appropriately fitted up?"
+
+"I should think a princess or a queen might be satisfied with it,"
+she cried, with enthusiasm. "Even in royal palaces there is nothing
+of the kind to compare to this gold-embroidered tapestry."
+
+"Baron," said Marie, commandingly, "have the kindness to dismiss the
+steward. I wish to speak with you and Frau von Werrig."
+
+The steward slipped out without waiting to be sent, and Trude stood
+near the door, turning to the young baroness, as if to ask if she
+might remain.
+
+"Did you not hear, Trude?" cried the mother, impatiently. "Tell her
+to go!"
+
+"Remain, Trude," said Marie, quietly. "You are familiar with the
+past. I have nothing to deny to you; shut the door and stay here.--
+And now," she continued, as her voice lost its gentleness, when she
+addressed her mother, "if it is agreeable to you, I should like to
+have an understanding with you!"
+
+"But, my child," sighed the mother, "how strangely altered you are!
+You address me, your mother, as Frau von Werrig, and you speak to
+Ebenstreit in a very formal manner, who has been your dear, faithful
+husband for three years. Oh, my darling son, what does this
+ceremonious manner mean?"
+
+"The very first hour, after our marriage, that we were alone my dear
+Marie severely reproved me for having addressed her in an intimate,
+affectionate manner, like the common class, as she called it, and I
+have never done so since."
+
+"You must be convinced that I am right," said Marie, calmly, "and
+that it does not become two beings, who neither love nor esteem each
+other, and who live in the most ceremonious manner, to address one
+another with endearing epithets. At any rate we are not accountable
+to any one, and Frau von Leuthen must know the relations we bear to
+each other in the so-called marriage, as it is her arrangement for
+the most part."
+
+"And I pride myself upon it," she cried, with animation. "I have
+brought about this marriage, which is good fortune to us, and I hope
+my daughter will prove her gratitude, and my son will show me the
+affection he has so often sworn to me."
+
+"I do not know what my husband may have sworn to you, but permit me
+to say, I do not understand whom you, Frau von Werrig, address as
+daughter here; if you accidentally refer to me, you are in error; I
+have never possessed a mother to love me, although formerly, during
+long years I endeavored with tender assiduity to win a parent's
+heart. That is long past, however. The very day that I married Herr
+von Ebenstreit I renounced all family ties, and resolved to be self-
+reliant. My husband will witness that he has never known me to
+yield, and that I have always been firm and resolute in my
+decision."
+
+"No one would doubt it," replied Ebenstreit, timidly. "We had a very
+strange marriage, which scarce deserves the name. We resemble more
+two companions who have joined in business, the one side
+reluctantly, and the other joyfully. I long for a happy married
+life, which has been quite impossible thus far."
+
+"And will be to the end, which you will yet learn; and Fran von
+Werrig should understand it, as she brought about the union, and
+should not be in doubt as to the conclusion."
+
+"I acknowledge that I am almost speechless and quite paralyzed with
+that which I see and hear. I should doubt that this cold, proud
+woman before me were my daughter, if it were not for the name she
+bears, and her features."
+
+"That which you and my husband have caused me to become. He knew
+that I neither loved nor esteemed him, and that a union with him
+seemed so unendurable that I would have sought refuge in death, if I
+had not vowed to support life to attain the aim which I imposed upon
+myself. That is all past; it is the future which we must arrange. I
+am glad that you are here, Frau von Werrig, that we may understand
+each other once for all; but you came against my wishes."
+
+"You must excuse it, dear Marie. It was the longing of mother's
+heart which led me hither; the love--"
+
+A cold, contemptuous glance of the large eyes caused the mother to
+cease, and quail before her daughter.
+
+After a short pause Marie continued: "I wish to exercise alone and
+unhindered the executive rights of a lady in her own house. Do you
+acknowledge the justice of this, my husband?"
+
+"Perfectly and unconditionally, dear Marie. You know that I have no
+other will but yours, which is my highest happiness to submit myself
+to in all things, always hoping to gain your love and win your
+heart; that--"
+
+"That this woman has changed to stone," said Marie, coldly, pointing
+to her mother. "As you then recognize me as the mistress of this
+house, I shall avail myself of my just right, and no one can prevent
+me, for I stand alone, absolved from all family ties. By my birth
+and your riches, I shall occupy the position of a woman of the
+world, and as such I shall live."
+
+"I am delighted to hear it, Marie," cried her husband. "For this
+reason I have had the drawing-rooms furnished in the most costly
+manner, and I shall be proud to receive the aristocratic society who
+will come to render homage to my wife, as they have done everywhere
+in Paris, London, Rome, Madrid, and St. Petersburg. We have
+frequented the highest circle in all these cities, and they have
+crowded our drawing-rooms, charmed with the beauty, distinguished
+manners, tone of the world, of your daughter."
+
+"I beg of you to make but one subject the sole object of
+conversation," said Marie, harshly. "I have said that I will avail
+myself of the privilege, as mistress of this house, of receiving no
+one whom I do not wish to see, and no one can enter without consent.
+Is it clearly understood, husband?"
+
+"Yes," he answered, somewhat agitated; "it is the right of every
+housekeeper--I understand you."
+
+"It is also clear to me," cried Frau von Werrig, with difficulty
+suppressing her wrath. "But I will await the decisive word, and see
+whether it is possible for a daughter to have the insolent
+presumption to drive he mother from her house!"
+
+"I have already informed you that I have no mother, and that no one
+has the right to call me daughter. If you await my decision, you
+shall now hear it; you are not included among those that I wish to
+receive in my house!"
+
+"Ah, dear Marie, you are cruel!" cried her husband, quite
+frightened.
+
+"She is a degenerate, good-for-nothing creature!" cried the mother.
+
+"If I am so, who has caused it but you, both of you? Who broke my
+heart, and crushed it under foot until it ceased to feel, and turned
+to stone? Bear the consequences of your cruelty and heartlessness! I
+cannot change it, and I repeat, Frau von Werrig has not the right to
+enter this house, or to remain here any longer!"
+
+Scalding tears fell from the mother's eyes as she shrieked, "She
+drives me from her house!"
+
+"I am only treating you as you behaved to one of the noblest and
+best of men," replied Marie, voice and look betraying her deep
+feeling. "You thrust from your door, with scorn and contempt, a man
+worthy of your esteem and recognition, although you knew that my
+heart was breaking. I am only following your example and exercising
+my just rights, and am less guilty than you are, as neither of us
+has need of the respect or esteem of the other."
+
+"Can you suffer this, my son? Do you allow any one in your presence
+to treat me so shamefully? After all, it is your house; do speak and
+exercise your right as master here: tell your wife that I am her
+mother, and you, my adopted son, who bears my name, and that I have
+the just right to come here as often as it pleases me."
+
+"Speak your mind to Frau von Werrig," said Marie, as Ebenstreit
+remained silent. "Decide which shall remain, as one or the other of
+us must leave; you are perfectly free to choose."
+
+"Then, naturally, there is no choice left me," replied Ebenstreit,
+despondingly. "I declare myself for my wife, of course, who is the
+noblest and proudest beauty in Berlin, and will make my house the
+centre of attraction to the aristocracy, nobility, and wealth. This
+is my greatest pride, and to secure this I wooed my beautiful bride,
+and have submitted to all the sorrow and humiliation which have been
+my portion. If I must choose between the mother and daughter, I
+naturally prefer the latter."
+
+"He abandons me also!" cried the mother. "You are an ungrateful,
+wretched man! You forget that you owe every thing to me, and that
+without me you were a miserable mercenary, whose stupidity and
+tediousness were the ridicule of every one, and you had never gained
+the entrance to a genteel house. What have you now become? A high-
+born man, whose house every one will crowd, and who could even
+appear at court, as he bears our noble and distinguished name. To
+whom do you owe all this, but to me alone?"
+
+"God in heaven, Thou hearest it!" cried Marie, solemnly, with
+uplifted arms. "She acknowledges that she alone has brought this
+misfortune upon me, and in this hour I stand justified."
+
+"Pardon, Frau von Werrig," said Ebenstreit, haughtily; "you are
+going too far. After my fortune, I thank you for my position. I am
+certainly of insignificant birth, but I am ambitious and rich. I
+said to myself, 'Money can bring about all that I wish,' and you see
+it has accomplished it. My wealth procured me a title, a splendid
+house, a beautiful wife, and a position in society. I acknowledge
+that you aided me in the carrying out of my plans, but you would not
+have done it, if I had not been in a position to pay you. You
+receive a very considerable annuity from me, therefore you cannot
+accuse me of ingratitude, but must confess that you have driven a
+very good bargain. You must forgive me if I beg of you to end this
+painful scene."
+
+"That means that I must leave," said Frau von Werrig, mildly,
+remembering the gambling debt and the annuity. "Very well, I will
+go, and promise you never to return, upon two conditions."
+
+"Have the goodness to communicate them," said Ebenstreit.
+
+"The first is, pay the gambling-debt of my husband, who has played
+away the entire sum you allow us yearly, and do not deduct it from
+our income. The second is, increase your allowance five hundred
+thalers, without letting the general know it, and pay it to me."
+
+"It is impossible," cried Ebenstreit, terrified. "You mistake me for
+a Croesus, whose wealth is inexhaustible. If this expenditure and
+demand increase, my colossal fortune will be entirely wasted, and--"
+
+"You exaggerate," interrupted Marie, with a peculiar brilliancy in
+her eyes. "Such wealth as yours is never-ending, and the banking
+business, which you are still engaged in under another name, is an
+inexhaustible source of wealth. I beg you to accept these
+conditions, that we may at last be at peace."
+
+"Very well," said Ebenstreit, to whom the words of Marie sounded as
+the sweetest music. "I will then accord your wishes, and you shall
+have the five hundred thalers for yourself."
+
+"For me alone?"
+
+"Yes, for yourself alone, Frau von Werrig."
+
+"Who vouches for the fulfilment of your promise?"
+
+"My word, Frau von Werrig."
+
+"I have no confidence but in a written promise."
+
+"Then I will have it made out, and bring you the document to-morrow
+morning."
+
+"Then our business is finished, and I can go.--Farewell, baroness;
+this is my last word to you. I cursed you from the moment you came
+into being. If you had been a son, the rich estate in trust of my
+family would have passed to you, of which I was the natural heir. As
+it was, it went to a distant relative, and we received nothing.
+Therefore your parents could not rejoice at your birth, and we only
+pardoned you when you married a rich man, who could free us from
+want, and now the separation is no grief to us. You have always been
+a disagreeable burden, and I am only quit of a discomfort, and
+renounce forever the sight of you.--Give me your arm, my son, and
+accompany me at least to the threshold of your house, that you may
+be able to say to this cold-hearted viper, that she is forever rid
+of the sight of her mother, who will never think of her but with
+chilling contempt." She seized Ebenstreit by the arm, who had not
+the courage to resist her, and drew him along with her, casting a
+look of supreme disgust at old Trude, who stood pale and sad near
+the door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+BEHIND THE MASK.
+
+
+As the door closed, and Marie found herself alone with her old
+friend and nurse, a peculiar change was visible in her sad face;
+something of its former sunny radiance brightened its usually
+sorrowful expression, and she turned to greet Trude with the smile
+of earlier, happier days, though it was tinged with sadness and
+grief. Impulsively she threw her arms around her faithful nurse,
+kissing her, and, with quivering lip, whispering: "A greeting and a
+blessing for you, dear mother! Take me to your kind, disinterested
+heart, and let me there find repose from all this torture and love
+the poor lost one, who--"
+
+She drew suddenly back, her face assuming its usually cold, look as
+she heard her husband enter.
+
+"She is gone, dear Marie. I hope that you are gratified with my
+decision, and perceive therein a proof of my excessive love and
+esteem for you," said Ebenstreit, drawing a long breath.
+
+"I did not desire this polite evidence of it," she coldly responded.
+"We have solemnized our entrance into this house in a fitting
+manner, and the important matter remaining for us is to make known
+our arrival to the society of Berlin. The horses purchased in
+Alexandria, and the new carriage from London, have already arrived--
+have they not?"
+
+"My book-keeper so informed me a fortnight since, when we were in
+Paris, and complained of the enormous sum which he had to disburse."
+
+"You must forbid him such a liberty once for all," said she, and the
+strange blending of joy and scorn was visible in her face. "It is
+inadmissible for a subordinate to presume to complain to his master,
+or advise him. He has only to listen and obey. This all your
+inferiors must understand, and know that they will be dismissed who
+murmur or advise!"
+
+"I will instruct them accordingly," he sighed, "though I must
+confess my head-man well understands financial operations, and
+during the many years that he has been with me has won the right to
+be consulted and advised with."
+
+"Then prove your gratitude as it becomes a true cavalier and a
+nobleman," dictated Marie. "Settle his salary as an annuity upon
+him, and replace him."
+
+"But he receives very great wages, and is still very active, though
+advanced."
+
+"The more the reason to pension him, that he may repose his
+remaining years and enjoy the fruit of his labors. But do as you
+like. I have only told you how a noble cavalier would act; if you
+choose to bargain and haggle, it is your own affair."
+
+"Heaven keep me from acting otherwise than as a nobleman!" cried
+Ebenstreit.
+
+Marie nodded assent, desiring that the carriage might be ordered,
+with the Arab horses. "We will make our visits at once, as I will,
+for the first time, open our large house for a soiree to-morrow
+evening," she added.
+
+"Ah, that is charming!" said Ebenstreit, delighted. "I shall at last
+have the opportunity of seeing the aristocratic Berlin society, and
+enter upon the rank of my new title."
+
+"Yes," she replied, with an expression of irrepressible scorn, "you
+will have this enjoyment. Send me the steward, I wish to give him a
+list of the invited guests. You can add to it at your pleasure."
+
+"I have no one to invite," cried her husband.
+
+"No matter! Make the necessary preparations. I will go to my room to
+make my toilet."
+
+"Will you not allow me to accompany you? You are not yet familiar
+with the house."
+
+"Trude will show it to me, and you can at the same time give the
+orders."
+
+Nodding proudly to Ebenstreit, she told Trude to precede her,
+following the old woman through the suite of brilliant rooms.
+
+"Here is my lady's dressing-room," said Trude, entering one
+ornamented with mirrors, laces, and gauzes.
+
+The French waiting-maid was busy within, unpacking the large trunks
+filled with silk and satin dresses which had been purchased by the
+dozens in Paris.
+
+"Lay out an elegant visiting toilet; I will return directly, after
+Trude has shown me the house," They entered the adjoining chamber,
+Marie's sleeping-room and found the German maid arranging the lace
+and silk coverings for her mistress to repose herself after the long
+journey. Marie betrayed no inclination for repose, but questioned
+Trude as to whither the other door led to.
+
+"Into the little corridor, baroness."
+
+"Did I not order that there should be but one entrance to my
+sleeping-room, and that from the dressing-room?"
+
+"Your commands have been strictly obeyed," replied Trude. "The only
+door from the corridor leads to my two rooms, and there is but one
+entrance to them upon the other side, which can be securely
+fastened."
+
+Into the simple, quiet room, at the baroness's request, Trude opened
+the door, saying, "Here we can be alone."
+
+Marie pointed silently to the second door, and the old woman nodded:
+"That is it," said she. "I have done every thing as you directed.
+After you left, they sent me the furniture of your little garret-
+room, which I have arranged exactly as it stood there."
+
+As Marie opened the door and found herself in the small room, so
+like the one where she had made flowers, given lessons, consoled by
+her only friend, Trude, her pride and reserve vanished. Sinking upon
+her knees, as if crushed, she gave way to her long-pent-up grief in
+one cry of anguish, clinging to Trude, and weeping bitterly.
+
+"Here I am, my faithful nurse, returned to you more wretched and
+miserable than when I left: then, I felt that I could scorn the
+world, and now I despise myself. Oh, Trude, they have caused my
+wretchedness, they have made me selfish and unkind. I was contented
+until now, and rejoiced in my misery, and triumphantly thought of
+the time when I was wont to bewail my broken heart and lost soul.
+Once more with you, and surrounded with the souvenirs of my
+girlhood, I feel a horror of myself, and could sink in shame and
+contrition. I have become as bad as they are. Can you forgive the
+hard-hearted daughter who banished her own mother from her house? I
+felt that I could not endure her presence, and feared that an
+inveterate rancor and hate would overpower me, and that I should
+curse her."
+
+"She deserves it, my poor child," whispered Trude, the tears
+streaming down her cheeks. "She has just told you that she never
+loved you, and in this painful scene she thought only of bargaining
+and making money. God has heard her and forgiven you as I do, and I
+beg and implore Him to punish those who have made you so wretched,
+and that He will have no mercy upon them, as they have shown none to
+you. It breaks my heart to see you so changed, and I can hardly
+believe this cold, haughty lady is my Marie. In your tears I
+recognize you, and I bless God that you can weep; your grief proves
+to me that you are yet the child of my heart."
+
+"Oh Trude, you know not how I have longed to see you ; it was my
+only consolation in these painful years. When I doubted every human
+being, then I thought of you, and was comforted and sustained."
+
+"And was there no one else to think of, my child?"
+
+"Yes," she gently murmured, "I thought of him. Tell me all you know
+about him, and hide nothing from me in this hour."
+
+"I thought you would ask me, and I went to Director Gedicke
+yesterday, to inform myself."
+
+"What did you hear? Tell me the most important. Does he live? Is he
+restored to health?"
+
+"He lives, but, for one year, he was so wretched that he could not
+teach; now he is better. Herr Gedicke went himself to Spandau,
+immediately after the wedding, and brought him back with him,
+relating as forbearingly and carefully as possible the circumstances
+of your marriage, and of your sacrificing yourself for him alone."
+
+"How did he receive it? What did he say?"
+
+"Nothing. His eyes were fixed, and his lips uttered not a sound.
+This lasted for weeks, and suddenly he became excited, enraged, and
+they were obliged to bind him to keep him from injuring himself."
+
+"Tell me no more, cried Marie, shuddering. "I thought myself
+stronger, nay, heartless, and yet it seems as if a hand of iron were
+tearing, rending my soul!"
+
+"That is well," said Trude, gently; "you must awaken from this
+hardened indifference; giving way to your grief in tears will soften
+your heart, and it will again be penetrated with the love of God and
+mankind. I will tell you every thing; you ought to know how poor,
+dear Moritz suffered. After he vented his rage he became melancholy,
+and withdrew to Halle in solitude, living in a hay-loft. His
+favorite books and an old piano were his only companions; no one
+presumed to intrude him, and they even conveyed his food secretly to
+him, shoving it through a door. He talked aloud to himself for hours
+long, and at night sang so touchingly, accompanying himself upon the
+piano, that those who listened wept."
+
+Marie wept also--scalding tears trickled through her fingers as she
+lay upon the floor.
+
+Trude continued: "Moritz lived in this way one year; his friends
+knew how he was suffering, and they proved in their deeds how much
+they loved and esteemed him. The teachers at the Gymnasium divided
+his hours of instruction among them, that he should not forfeit his
+place and lose his salary. Even the king showed great sympathy for
+him, sending to inquire for him. Herr Gedicke visited him frequently
+at Halle; and once when about to mount the ladder to the hay-loft he
+met Moritz descending, carefully dressed, in a reasonable, gentle
+mood, and then he returned with him to Berlin. There was great
+rejoicing in the college over his return, and they feted him,
+witnessing so much love for him that it was really touching. He has
+been promoted to professor, and at the express command of the king
+he teaches the young Prince Frederick William in Latin and Greek.
+Oh, he is so much esteemed and--"
+
+"And is married I hope," murmured Marie. "Is he not happily married,
+Trude?"
+
+"No. Herr Gedicke says he could marry a wealthy girl, for he is a
+great favorite, and is invited into the most distinguished society.
+He repels every one, and has become a woman-hater."
+
+"He hates them--does that mean that he hates me?"
+
+"Yes, he thoroughly scorns and despises you; so much so that Herr
+Gedicke says you should know of it, and keep out of his way. He has
+sworn to publicly show his contempt for you, and therefore his
+friends wish you to be apprised of it, and not encounter him in
+society."
+
+"It is well, I thank you," said Marie, rising; "I will act
+accordingly. Kiss me once more, my dear mother, and let me repose my
+weary head upon your bosom. Ah, Trude, what a sorrow life is!"
+
+"You will yet learn to love it again, Marie."
+
+"If I thought that I could sink so low, I would kill myself this
+very hour. I know myself better, and only for revenge do I live.
+Hush! say nothing more. Look at me! I am cursed, and there in those
+gaudy rooms in my purgatory; here is my paradise, and here the
+wicked demon may dare to change into the sad, wretched wife, who
+mourns the happy days already flown, and weeps the inconsolable
+future. Oft will I come here in the night when those sleep who think
+me so proud and happy, and you alone shall behold me as I am. Now I
+must back to purgatory.--Farewell!"
+
+A half hour later a splendid carriage drove from the house of Herr
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen. The people upon the street stood in
+wondering admiration of the beautiful Arab horses with the costly
+silver-mounted harness, and sought to catch a glimpse of the
+occupants of the carriage, an insignificant, meagre, blond-haired
+man, who appeared like a servant beside the lovely pale wife, though
+proud and indifferent, who kept her eyes fixed steadily before her.
+
+The chasseur, with his waving plumes, sat upon the box beside the
+rich-liveried coachman.
+
+As the married couple returned from their drive, having left their
+cards at the most distinguished houses in Berlin, the baroness
+handed the list of guests to he invited to the baron to examine. He
+glanced hastily over it, assuring her that every thing should be
+directed as she desired, deferring all to her superior knowledge.
+Suddenly he seemed confused, even frightened. "What is the matter?
+What were you about to remark?" asked Marie, indifferently.
+
+"I was in error. I have, without doubt, read it wrong. I beg pardon
+for a foolish blunder, but will you tell me this name?"
+
+Marie bent forward to look at the paper which her husband handed
+her, and, pointing with her finger, read "Professor Philip Moritz."
+
+"Do you intend to invite him?" asked Ebenstreit, quite alarmed.
+
+"Why should I not? He belongs to the circle of friends and
+acquaintances, and it is natural that I should include him.
+Moreover, there is not a little gossip, and it is necessary to
+silence it. If you are not of my opinion, strike out the name."
+
+"Not at all, dearest. On the contrary, you are perfectly right, and
+I admire you for it."
+
+"Then give the list to the butler, for it is quite time that the
+invitations were given out."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+THE CURSE.
+
+
+The evening of the soiree had arrived. In quick succession drove the
+carriages up the broad entrance to the mansion of Herr Ebenstreit,
+The curious street public pressed in compact masses near the gate to
+peep in, or at least catch a fugitive glance of the ladies alighting
+from their carriages, who were received by the butler at the foot of
+the carpeted steps. A host of gold-bespangled footmen lined the
+entrance upon each side, which was ornamented with the most
+exquisite hot-house plants, filling the air with perfume.
+
+Two tall, stately footmen, with broad gold shoulder-bands and large
+gilt batons, stood at the door of the anteroom, which was
+brilliantly illuminated with chandeliers and side-lights, reflected
+in the numerous mirrors. The anteroom led into the reception-room by
+wide folding-doors, where the names were given to the usher, who
+announced them in a stentorian voice in the drawing-room. There
+stood the Baron von Ebenstreit to receive the guests, all smiles,
+and with bustling assiduity accompany them to the adjoining drawing-
+room to present them to the baroness.
+
+Among the select company were conspicuous the most distinguished
+names of the aristocracy. Generals and staff-officers, countesses
+and baronesses were crowded together, with the ladies of the
+financial world, near ministers and counsellors in this gorgeous
+saloon, which was the delight and admiration of the envious, and
+excited the tongues of the slanderous. Those acquainted gathered in
+the window-niches and cosy corners, maliciously criticising the
+motley crowd, and eminently consoled with the sure prospect of the
+ruin of the late banker, surrounding himself with such unbecoming
+splendor and luxury, the bad taste of his arrogant, overdressed, and
+extravagant wife.
+
+"Have you noticed her parure of diamonds?" whispered the Countess
+Moltke to Fran von Morien. "If they are real, then she wears an
+estate upon her shoulders."
+
+"The family estate of Von Leuthen," laughingly replied Frau von
+Morien. "You know, I suppose, that the father of General von Leuthen
+was a brick-burner, and he may have succeeded in changing a few
+bricks into diamonds."
+
+"You are wicked, sweet one," replied the countess, smiling. "One
+must acknowledge that her toilet is charming. I have never seen its
+equal. The gold lace over the rose-colored satin is superb,"
+
+"Yes, and the mingling of straw feathers, diamonds, flowers, lace,
+and birds is truly ridiculous in her head-dress."
+
+"It must have been copied exactly from the one which the Queen Marie
+Antoinette wore at the ball at Versailles a fortnight since. The
+baroness was present at this court ball with her greyhound of a
+husband, and created quite a sensation with her costly recherchee
+toilet, as the French ambassador told us yesterday."
+
+"Certainly not by her manner," said Frau von Morien. "She is
+insupportably arrogant and self-sufficient. What do you think of
+this pretentious manner of announcing our names as if we were at an
+auction where they sold titles?"
+
+"It is a very good French custom," remarked the countess. "But it
+does not become a lady of doubtful nobility and uncertain position,
+to introduce foreign customs here. She should leave this to others,
+and modestly accept those already in use by us."
+
+"One remarks the puffed-up parvenue," whispered Frau von Morien.
+"Every thing smells of the varnish upon the newly-painted coat-of-
+arms."
+
+"Hush, my friend! I there comes the baroness leaning upon the arm of
+the French ambassador. She is indeed imposing in appearance, and one
+could mistake her for a queen."
+
+"Could any one ever suppose that this queen once made flowers to
+sell? Come, countess, I have just thought of a charming scene to
+revenge myself upon this arrogant personage."
+
+Giving her arm to the countess, she approached her hostess leaning
+upon the arm of the Marquis de Treves, the French ambassador, as
+they were standing beneath the immense chandelier of rock crystal,
+which sparkled above them like a crown of stars, causing her
+diamonds to look as if in one blaze of different hues.
+
+"Oh, permit us to sun ourselves in your rays, ma toute belle," said
+the Countess Moltke. "One could well fancy themselves in a fairy
+palace, so enchanting is everything here."
+
+"And the baroness's appearance confirms this impression," remarked
+the gallant Frenchman. "Fancy could not well paint a more lovely
+fairy in one's happiest dreams."
+
+"Yes, truly I wander around as if in an enchanted scene. I feel as
+if I must seize myself by the head and be well shaken, to convince
+myself that I am really awake and not dreaming a chapter from
+Aladdin. I made the effort, but felt the wreath of roses in my hair,
+and--"
+
+"And that convinced you of your wakefulness," said the baroness, a
+little haughtily. Turning to the ambassador, she added: "Do you
+observe, monsieur le marquis, what a delicate attention this lady
+shows me in wearing a wreath of flowers which I manufactured?"
+
+"Comment! The baroness is truly a fairy! She causes flowers to grow
+at her pleasure, and vies with Nature. It seems impossible. I can
+scarcely believe it."
+
+"And yet it is true," said Frau von Morien. "The baroness, indeed,
+fabricated these roses three years since, when she had the kindness
+to work for me. You will acknowledge that I have kept them well?"
+
+"It was no kindness of mine, but a necessity," said the baroness,
+"and I must confess that I would not have undertaken so troublesome
+a piece of work from pure goodness or pleasure. You will remember
+that I was very poor before my marriage, and as Frau von Morien was
+one of my customers, it is very natural that she possesses my
+flowers. She gave me many orders, and paid me a very small price,
+for she is very practical and prudent, and understands bargaining
+and cheapening, and when one is poor they are obliged to yield to
+the shameless parsimony of the rich. I thank you, my dear
+benefactress, for the honor you have shown me in wearing my flowers,
+for it has been a pleasant occasion to explain ourselves and
+recognize each other. Have the kindness to recall other remembrances
+of the past."
+
+"I do not remember possessing any other souvenirs," replied the
+countess, confused.
+
+Have you forgotten that I gave French lessons to your niece, the
+present Frau von Hohenthal? She came to me three times weekly,
+because the lessons were a few groschen cheaper at the house."
+
+At this instant the usher announced in a loud voice, "Professor
+Philip Moritz."
+
+A gentleman of slight proportions, in an elegant fashionable dress,
+appeared and remained standing in the doorway, his large black eyes
+wandering searchingly through the drawing-room. Herr von Ebenstreit
+approached, extending him his hand, uttering a few unintelligible
+words, which his guest appeared not to notice, but, slightly
+inclining, asked if he would present him to the lady of the house.
+
+"Have the kindness to follow me," said Ebenstreit, leading Moritz
+through the circle of jesting, slandering ladies and gentlemen, to
+the centre of the room, where Marie was still standing with the
+French ambassador and the two ladies.
+
+"My dear," said her husband, "I have brought you an old
+acquaintance, Professor Moritz."
+
+As Ebenstreit would retreat, Moritz commanded him to remain, placing
+his white-gloved hand upon his arm, and holding him fast. "I would
+ask you one question before I speak with the baroness."
+
+Moritz spoke so loud, and in such a strange, harsh, and repulsive
+manner, that every one turned astonished, asking himself what it
+meant. Conversation was hushed, and the curious pressed toward the
+peculiar group in the centre to the baroness, who regarded her
+husband perfectly composed, and the pale man, with the flashing
+eyes, the glance of which pierced her like daggers.
+
+A breathless silence reigned, broken only by Ebenstreit's trembling
+voice. "What is it, professor? How can I serve you?"
+
+"Tell me who you are?" replied Moritz, with a gruff laugh.
+
+"I am the Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen!"
+
+"And the scar which you bear upon your face, is it not the mark of a
+whip, with which I lashed a certain Herr Ebenstreit three years
+since, who prevented my eloping with my betrothed? I challenged him
+to fight a duel, but the coward refused me satisfaction, and then I
+struck him in the face, causing the blood to flow. Answer me--are
+you this gentleman?"
+
+Not a sound interrupted the fearfully long pause which followed.
+Every one turned astonished to Ebenstreit, who, pale as death, was
+powerless to utter a word, but stood staring at his opponent.
+
+"Why do you not answer me?" cried Moritz, stamping his foot. "Are
+you the coward? Was this red scar caused by the whip-lash?"
+
+Another long pause ensued, and a distinctly audible voice was heard,
+saying, "Yes, it is he!"
+
+"Who replied to me?" asked Moritz, turning his angry glance away
+from Ebenstreit.
+
+"I," said Marie. "I reply for my husband!"
+
+"You? Are you the wife of this man?" thundered Moritz.
+
+"I am," Marie answered.
+
+"Is this invitation directed to me from you?" he continued, drawing
+a paper from his pocket. "Did you permit yourself to invite me to
+your house?"
+
+"Yes, I did," she calmly answered.
+
+"And by what right, madame? This is the question I wish answered,
+and I came here for that purpose."
+
+"I invited you because I desired to see you."
+
+"Shameless one!" cried Moritz, furious.
+
+"Sir," cried the ambassador, placing himself before Moritz, defying
+his anger, "you forget that you are speaking to a lady. As her
+husband is silent, I declare myself her knight, and I will not
+suffer her to be injured by word or look.
+
+"How can you hinder me?" cried Moritz, with scorn. "What will you do
+if I dash this paper at her feet, and forbid her to ever write my
+name again?" Making a ball of it, he suited the action to the word,
+casting a defiant look at the marquis.
+
+"I shall order the footmen to thrust you out of the house. Here,
+servants, remove this man; he is an escaped lunatic, undoubtedly."
+
+Two footmen pressed forward through the circle which crowded around
+Moritz.
+
+"Whoever touches me, death to him!" thundered Moritz, laying his
+hand upon a small sword at his side.
+
+"Let no one dare lay a hand on this gentleman," cried Marie, with a
+commanding wave of her hand to the lackeys. "I beseech you, marquis,
+and you, honored guests, to quietly await the conclusion of this
+scene, and to permit Herr Moritz to finish speaking."
+
+"Do you mean to defy me, madame?" muttered Moritz, gnashing his
+teeth. "You perhaps count upon my magnanimity to keep silent, and
+not disclose the secrets of the past to this aristocratic assembly.
+I stand here as its accusing spirit, and condemn you as a shameless
+perjurer.--I will ask you who are here rendering homage to this
+woman, if you know who she is, and of what she has been guilty? As a
+young girl she was as sweet and innocent as an angel, and seemed
+more like a divine revelation. To think of her, inspired and
+elevated one's thoughts, and heaven was mirrored in her eyes. She
+was poor, and yet so infinitely rich, that if a king had laid all
+his treasures at her feet, as the gift of his love, he would receive
+more than he gave, for in her heart reposed the wealth of the whole
+human race. Oh! I could weep tears of blood in reflecting upon what
+she was, and what she has become. Smile and mock, ladies and
+gentlemen; my brain is crazed, and I weep for my lost angel."
+
+Moritz dashed his hands to his face, and stood swaying backward and
+forward, sobbing.
+
+Sighs and regrets were heard in the room. The ladies pressed their
+handkerchiefs to their eyes; others regarded with lively sympathy
+the handsome young man, who deeply interested them, and gazed
+reproachfully at the young baroness, expecting her to be crushed
+with these reproaches and tears, but who, on the contrary, stood
+with proud composure, her face beaming with joy, gazing at Moritz.
+
+"It is past--my last tear is shed, and my last wail has been
+uttered," cried Philip, uncovering his face. "My angel has changed
+into a despicable woman. I loved her as the wretched, disconsolate
+being adores the one who reveals paradise to him; and she fooled me
+into the belief that she loved me. We exchanged vows of eternal
+constancy and affection, and promised each other to bear joyfully
+every ill in life, and never separate until death. I should have
+doubted myself, rather than she who stood above me, like a divine
+revelation. I wished to win her by toil and industry, by my
+intellect, and the fame by which I could render my name illustrious.
+It was, indeed, nothing in the eyes of her grasping parents; they
+repulsed me with scorn and pride, but Marie encouraged me to perfect
+confidence in her affection. Whilst I wandered on foot to Silesia,
+like a poor pilgrim toward happiness, to humble myself before the
+king, to beg and combat for my angel, there came temptation, sin,
+and vulgarity, in the form of this pale, cowed-down man, who stands
+beside my betrothed gasping with rage. The temptation of riches
+changed my angel into a demon, a miserable woman bartered for gold!
+She betrayed her love, yielding it up for filthy lucre, crushing her
+nobler nature in the dust, and driving over it, as did Tullia the
+dead body of her father. She sold herself for riches, before which
+you all kneel, as if worshipping the golden calf! After selling her
+soul to a man whom she despised, even if he were not rich, she has
+had the boldness to summon me, the down-trodden and half-crazed
+victim, to her gilded palace, as if I were a slave to be attached to
+her triumphal car. I am a free man, and have come here only to hurl
+contempt in her face, to brand her before you all as a perjurer and
+a traitress, whom I never will pardon, but will curse with my latest
+breath! Now I have relieved my heart of its burden, I command this
+woman to deny what I have said, if she can."
+
+With a dictatorial wave of the hand, he pointed excitedly Marie. A
+deathlike stillness reigned. Even the lights seemed to grow dim, and
+every one was oppressed as if by excessive sultriness.
+
+Again Moritz commanded Marie to acknowledge the truth of his
+accusations before the honored assembly.
+
+She encountered his angry glance with calmness, and a smile was
+perceptible upon her lip. Yes, said she, I acknowledge that I am a
+perjurer and a traitor. I have sold myself for riches, and yielded
+my peace of soul and my love for mammon. I might justify myself, but
+I refrain from it, and will only say that you have told the truth!
+One day you will cease to curse me, and, perhaps a tear of pity will
+glisten in the eye now flashing with scorn and anger. The poor wife
+who lies in the dust implores for the last blessing of your love!"
+
+"Marie!" he cried, with heart-rending anguish, "oh, Marie!" and
+rushed toward her, kneeling before her, and clinging to her,
+pressing a kiss upon her hand and weeping aloud. Only for a moment
+did he give way, and then sprang up wildly, rushing through the
+crowd, out of the room.
+
+A fearful silence ensued. No one had the courage to break it. Every
+one hoped that Marie, through a simulated fainting, would end the
+painful scene, and give the guests an opportunity to withdraw. No
+such thoughtfulness for her friends occurred to her.
+
+She turned to the Marquis de Treves, who stood pale and deeply
+agitated behind her, and burst into a loud laugh.
+
+"How pale you are! Have you taken this comedy for truth? Did you
+think this theatrical performance was a reality? You have forgotten
+what I told you a month since in Paris, that I had a native talent
+for acting. You would contest the matter with me, and I bet you that
+I could introduce an impromptu scene in my house, with such artistic
+skill, that you would be quite deceived."
+
+"Indeed I do recall it; how could I have forgotten it?" replied the
+marquis, with the ready tact of the diplomat.
+
+"Have I won?" asked Marie, smiling.
+
+"You have played your role, baroness, like an artiste of consummate
+talent, and to-morrow I shall have the honor to cancel the debt in
+your favor."
+
+"Now, then, give me your arm, marquis, and conduct me to the
+dancing-room, and you, worthy guests, follow us," said. Marie,
+leading the way.
+
+The merry music even was not sufficient to dissipate the awkward
+oppression, and by midnight the guests had taken leave, and Marie
+stood under the chandelier, pale and rigid, opposite her husband. He
+had summoned courage to bewail the terrible scene, weeping and
+mourning over her cruelty and his shame. Marie, with chilling
+indifference, regarded him without one visible trace of pity.
+
+"You realized what you were doing when you imposed the scorn of this
+marriage upon me," she said. "I have never deceived you with vain
+hopes! You have sown dragons' teeth, and warriors have sprung up to
+revenge me upon you. Serve yourself of your riches to fight the
+combatants. See if you can bargain for a quiet conscience as easily
+as you purchased me! My soul is free though, and it hovers over you
+as the spirit of revenge.--Beware!"
+
+She slowly turned and quitted the room. Her diamonds sparkled and
+blazed in the myriads of lights. The large mirrors reflected the
+image of a haughty woman, who swept proudly past like a goddess of
+revenge!
+
+Ebenstreit stood gazing after her. He had a horror of the lonely
+still room, so gorgeous and brilliantly illuminated--a shudder crept
+over him, and he sank, weeping bitterly.
+
+In the little room, the buried happiness of the past, Marie knelt,
+with outstretched arms, imploring heaven for mercy. "I thank Thee,
+Heavenly Father, that I have been permitted to see him again! My
+sacrifice was not in vain--he lives! He is free, and his mind is
+clear and bright. I thank Thee that he still loves me. His anger is
+but love!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+THE KING AND THE ROSICRUCIANS.
+
+
+The joy which Bischofswerder said, reigned in heaven and upon earth
+over the return of the crown prince to the path of virtue, in having
+forsaken Wilhelmine Enke, was of but short duration.
+
+The Invisibles and the pious Rosicrucians soon learned that
+sagacious and cunning woman defied the spirits and abjured the
+oaths.
+
+Since the night of his communion with the departed, Frederick
+William had never visited Charlottenburg--never seen the house which
+contained all that he held most dear; he had returned Wilhelmine's
+letters unopened, and had even had the courage to refuse himself to
+the children, who came to see him.
+
+If he had been left to consult his own heart, he would not probably
+have had sufficient resolution to have done this; Bischofswerder and
+Woellner never left him for a moment, as they said the Invisible
+Fathers had commanded them to tarry with the much-loved brother in
+these first days of trial and temptation, and to elevate and gladden
+him with edifying conversations and scientific investigations.
+
+The prayers and exhortations were the duty of Woellner, who, besides
+this, continued his daily discourses upon the administration of
+government, preparing the prince for the important command of the
+royal regiments, which they hoped favorable destiny would soon grant
+him.
+
+The scientific researches were the part of Bischofswerder, and he
+entered upon his duties with the zeal and pleasure of an inquiring
+mind, itself hopeful and believing.
+
+In the cabinet arranged in the new palace at Potsdam, the prince and
+his dear Bischofswerder worked daily, many hours, to discover the
+great hope of the alchemist--the philosopher's stone. Not finding
+it, unfortunately, they brewed all sorts of miraculous drinks, which
+were welcome to the prince as the elixir of eternal youth and
+constant love. In the evenings they communed with the spirits of the
+distinguished departed, which, moved at the earnest prayers of
+Woellner, and the fervent exhortation of the crown prince, always
+had the goodness to appear, and witness their satisfaction for their
+much-loved son, as they called him, for continuing brave and
+faithful, and not falling into the unholy snares of the seductress.
+
+The crown prince, however, experienced not the least self-
+contentment. Each day renewed the yearning for the beloved of his
+youth and for his children, for which those of his wife were no
+compensation--neither the silent, awkward Prince Frederick William,
+nor his crying little brother. In his dreams he saw Wilhelmine
+dissolved in tears, calling upon him in most tender accents, and
+when he awoke, it was to an inconsolable grief. He wept with heart-
+felt sorrow; his oath alone kept him from hastening to her; it bound
+him, and fettered his earnest wish to see her, making him sad and
+melancholy.
+
+The spirits had no pity nor mercy upon him. His two confidants
+encouraged his virtue and piety from morning till night, exalting
+his excited fancy with their marvellous relations and apparitions.
+
+One day as they were on the point of commencing the morning prayers
+to the Invisibles, a royal footman appeared, with the command to
+betake themselves to Sans-Souci, where the king awaited them.
+
+A royal carriage was in attendance to convey them. There was no
+alternative but obedience.
+
+"Perhaps Fate destines us to become martyrs to the holy cause," said
+Woellner, devoutly folding his hands.
+
+"We may never enjoy the happiness of seeing our dear brothers of the
+confederacy again," sighed Bischofswerder. "Our spirits will always
+be with you, my prince, and the Invisible Fathers will protect you
+in all your ways."
+
+The crown prince, deeply moved, separated from his friends with
+tears in his eyes; but as the carriage rolled away he felt relieved
+as of an oppressive burden, and breathed more freely.
+
+At the same time a footman entered, bearing upon a golden salver a
+letter for the prince. Unobserved and free to act, he read it, and
+as he sat musingly thinking over its contents, so tender and
+affectionate, he re-read it, and rising, made a bold resolve, his
+face beaming with happiness, to order his carriage, which he did,
+and in a few moments more drove at full speed away from the palace.
+
+Bischofswerder and Woellner, in the mean time, arrived at Sans-
+Souci. The footman awaiting them conducted them at once through the
+picture-gallery, into the little corridor leading to the king's
+cabinet, and there left them to announce them to his majesty. Both
+gentlemen heard their names called in a loud voice, and the response
+of the king: "Let them wait in the little corridor until I permit
+them to enter."
+
+The footman returned and with subdued voice made known the royal
+command, and departed, carefully closing the door.
+
+There was no seat in the narrow, little corridor, and the air was
+close and oppressive.
+
+They could hear voices in mingled conversation; sometimes it seemed
+as if the king were communicating commands; again, as if he dictated
+in a suppressed voice. The Rosicrucians knew very well it was the
+hour of the cabinet council, and they waited patiently and
+steadfastly, but as their watches revealed the fact that three hours
+had passed, and every noise was hushed, they concluded they were
+forgotten, and resolved to remind the lackey of their presence.
+
+"Indeed, this standing is quite insupportable," whispered Woellner.
+
+They both slipped to the entrance and tried the bronze knob, but
+although it turned, the door opened not, and was evidently fastened
+upon the outside. They looked alarmed at each other, asking what it
+could mean. "Can it be intentional? Are we imprisoned here? We must
+be resigned, although it is a severe experience." At last, patience
+exhausted, they resolved to bear it no longer, and tapped gently at
+the door of the king. The loud bark of a dog was their only
+response, and again all was still.
+
+"Evidently there is no one there," sighed Bischofswerder. "It is the
+hour of dining of the king."
+
+"I wish it were ours also," whined Woellner. "I confess I yearn for
+bodily nourishment, and my legs sink under me."
+
+"I am fearfully hungry," groaned Bischofswerder; "besides, the air
+is suffocating. I am resolved to go to extremes, and make a noise."
+
+He rushed like a caged boar from one door to the other, shrieking
+for the lackey to open the door; but as before, a loud bark was the
+only response.
+
+"The Lord has forsaken us," whimpered Woellner. "The sublime Fathers
+have turned their faces away from us. We will pray for mercy and beg
+for a release!" and he sank upon his knees.
+
+"What will that avail us here, where neither prayers nor devotion
+are heeded? Only energy and determination will aid us at Sans-Souci.
+Come, let us thump and bang until they set us free!" cried
+Bischofswerder, peevishly.
+
+Their hands were lame, and their voices hoarse with their exertions;
+and no longer able to stand, they sank down upon the floor hungry
+and exhausted, almost weeping with rage and despair.
+
+At last, after long hours of misery, they heard a noise in the
+adjoining room. The king had again entered his cabinet. The door
+opened, and the lackey motioned to the two gentlemen to enter. They
+rose with difficulty and staggered into the room, the door being
+closed behind them.
+
+His majesty was seated in his arm-chair, with his three-cornered hat
+on, leaning his chin upon his hands, crossed upon his staff. He
+fixed his great blue eyes, with a searching glance, upon the two
+Rosicrucians; then turned to his minister, Herzberg, who was seated
+at the table covered with documents.
+
+"These are, then, the two great props of the Rosicrucians?" asked
+Frederick--"the two charlatans whom they have told me make hell hot
+for the crown prince, continually lighting it up with their prayers
+and litanies."
+
+"Your majesty, answered Herzberg, smiling, "these gentlemen are
+Colonel Bischofswerder and the councillor of the exchequer,
+Woellner, whom your majesty has commanded to appear before you."
+
+"You are the two gentlemen who work miracles, and have the
+effrontery to summon the spirit of our ancestor, the great elector,
+and the Emperor Marcus Aurelius?"
+
+"Sire," stammered Bischofswerder, "we have tried to summon spirits."
+
+"And I too," cried the king, "only they will not come; therefore I
+wished to see the enchanters, and would like to purchase the
+secret."
+
+"Pardon me, most gracious sire," said Woellner, humbly, "you must
+first be received in the holy order of the Rosicrucians."
+
+"Thanks," cried the king, "I am not ready for the like follies, and
+whilst I live the Invisibles must take heed not to become too
+visible, or they will be taken care of. I will not permit Prussia to
+retrograde. It has cost too much trouble to "enlighten the people,
+bring them to reason, and banish hypocrisy. Say to the Rosicrucians
+that they shall leave the crown prince in peace, or I will chase
+them to the devil, who will receive them with open arms! It could do
+no harm to appeal to the prince's conscience to lead an honorable
+life, and direct his thoughts more to study than to love, but you
+shall not make a hypocrite of him and misuse his natural good-
+nature. If the Rosicrucians try to force the prince and rule him, I
+will show them that I am master, and will no longer suffer their
+absurdities, but will break up the whole nest of them! I have been
+much, annoyed at the deep despondency of the crown prince. You shall
+not represent to him that baseness and virtue are the same, and that
+he is the latter when he betrays those to whom he has sworn fidelity
+and affection. An honorable man must, above all, he cognizant of
+benefits, and not forsake those who have sacrificed their honor and
+love to him, and have proved their fidelity. Have you understood me,
+gentlemen?"
+
+"It will be my holy duty to follow strictly your majesty's
+commands," said Bischofswerder.
+
+"And I also will strive to promote the will of my king," asserted
+Woellner.
+
+"It will be necessary to do so, or you two gentlemen may find
+yourselves at Spandau. I would say to you once for all, I will not
+suffer any sects; every one can worship God in his own way. No one
+shall have the arrogant presumption to declare himself one of the
+elect. We are all sinners. The Rosicrucians are not better than the
+Illuminati or Freemasons, and none are more worthy than the tailor
+and cobbler who does his duty. Adieu!"
+
+The king nodded quickly and pointed to the door out of which the two
+brothers were about to disappear, when he called them back.
+
+"If the prince is not at the palace on your return, I advise you not
+to pursue him, but reflect that the Invisibles may have summoned him
+to a communion of spirits; I believe, too, that I kept you waiting;
+but without doubt you were comforted by the Fathers, who bore you
+away upon their wings, and gave you food and drink! Those who are
+protected by the spirits, and can summon them at pleasure, can never
+want. If you are hungry, call up the departed Lucullus, that he may
+provide for you to eat; and if you have no earthly seat, summon
+Semiramis that she may send you her hanging gardens for the quiet
+repose of the elect! I am rejoiced that you have enjoyed such
+celestial refreshments in the corridor. Adieu!"
+
+The king gazed sadly after them. Approaching Herzberg, he said: "I
+felt, as I looked at the two rogues, that it was a pity to grow old.
+Did you think that I would let them off so easily?"
+
+"Sire, I really do not understand you," replied Herzberg, shrugging
+his shoulders. "I know not, in your most active youthful days, how
+you could have done otherwise."
+
+"I will tell you that, if I were not an old man, void of decision
+and energy, I would have had these fellows taken to Spandau for
+life!" said the king, striking the table with his staff.
+
+"Your majesty does yourself injustice," said Herzberg, smiling. "You
+were ever a just monarch in your most ardent youth, and never set
+aside the law. These men were not guilty of any positive crime."
+
+"They are daily and hourly guilty of enticing away from me the crown
+prince, and making the future ruler of my country an obscurer, a
+necromancer, and at the same time a libertine! I was obliged to
+overlook his youthful preference for Wilhelmine Enke, and wink at
+this amour, for I know that crown prince is human, and his
+affections are to be consulted. If he cannot love the wife which
+diplomacy chooses for him, then he must be permitted the chosen one
+of his heart to console him for the forced marriage. At the same
+time this person was passable, and without the usual fault of such
+creatures, a desire to rule and mingle in politics. She seems to be
+unambitious and unpretentious. These Rosicrucians would banish her
+by increasing the number of favorites, that they may rule him, and
+make the future King of Prussia a complete tool in their hands. They
+excite his mind, which is not too well balanced, and rob him by
+their witchcraft of the intellect that he has. They promise him to
+find the philosopher's stone, and make a fool of him. Am I not
+right?"
+
+"I must acknowledge that you are," sighed Herzberg.
+
+"And admit also that it would be just to send these in, famous
+fellows as criminals to Spandau."
+
+"Sire, unfortunately, there are crimes and offences which the law
+does not reach, and which cannot be judged."
+
+"When I was young," said the king, "I tore up and stamped upon every
+weed that I found in my garden. Shall I now let these two grow and
+infect the air, because the law gives me no right to crush them?
+Formerly I would have torn them leaf from leaf, but now I am old and
+useless, my hand is weak, and lacks the strength to uproot them,
+therefore I suffer them to stand, and all the other abominable
+things which these rogues bring to pass. A cloud is rising, from
+which a storm will one day burst over Prussia; but I cannot
+dissipate it, for the little strength and breath that remains I have
+need of for the government; and, moreover, I have no superfluous
+time for the future, but must live and work only for the present."
+
+"But the blessing of your exertions will be felt in the future. The
+deeds of a great man are not extinguished with his death, but shine
+like a star, disseminating light beyond his grave!"
+
+"This light is just what the Rosicrucians will take care to
+extinguish like a tallow candle with too long a wick, and it is good
+fortune that the astronomers have awarded me a little glorification
+in the heavens, and accorded me a star, for the Rosicrucians would
+not let it shine here below. I must console myself with this, and
+recall that when it is dark and lowering here, I have a star above
+in the sky!"
+
+"This star is Frederick's honor," cried Herzberg. "It will beam upon
+future generations, and become the guiding light of the sons and
+nephews of your house, and they will learn to be as sagacious and
+wise as the Great Frederick."
+
+"There you have made a great error, Herzberg," replied the king,
+quickly. "Future generations are newer taught by the past--
+grandchildren think themselves wiser than their grandparents. The
+greatest of heroes is forgotten, and his deeds buried in the dust of
+ages. You have given me a glorious title of honor, and I know how
+little I deserve it."
+
+"A title which will be confirmed in centuries to come, for every
+history will speak of Frederick the Second as Frederick Great."
+
+"In history it may be, but the people will speak of me as 'Old
+Fritz'--that will be on the lips of those who love me, and
+expression of endearment; on the lips of those who hate me, one of
+disaffection. I am, indeed, 'Old Fritz,' which the Bischofswerders
+and Woellners also call me, and try to make the crown prince believe
+that I have outlived my period, and do not understand or esteem the
+modern time. In their eyes I am a dismantled ship of state, which
+the storms of life have rendered unseaworthy. They would refit the
+vessel, and give it a new flag, sending Old Fritz, the helmsman, to
+the devil! The day of my death they will hoist this flag, with
+'Modern Time' inscribed upon it in large letters. I shall then be
+united in Elysium with Voltaire, Jordan, Suhm, and all my other
+friends, as we were wont to be at Sans-Souci, and look down with a
+pitying smile upon the Modern Time and Old Folly!--Vale!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+THE ESPOUSALS.
+
+
+Both Bischofswerder and Woellner hastened to avail themselves of the
+commanding "adieu," and quit the royal presence. Without, the
+carriage was ready to reconvey them to the new palace. They were so
+exhausted that neither of them uttered a word, the last injunctions
+of the king ringing in their ears.
+
+Silently they alighted upon arriving, but as the footman came out to
+meet them they asked, simultaneously, if his royal highness had
+dined.
+
+"His highness is not here, having departed immediately after the two
+gentlemen, and is not yet returned," he answered.
+
+"You may serve us something to eat as quickly as possible in the
+little dining-room. Let it be ready in a quarter of an hour,"
+commanded Bischofswerder.
+
+"Now that we are alone, what do you think of this affair?" asked
+Woellner.
+
+"I cannot vouchsafe a reply until I have eaten a pheasant's wing,
+and drunken my champagne," replied Bischofswerder.
+
+He kept his word, preserving a solemn silence until a good half of
+the bird had disappeared, and many glasses of iced champagne.
+
+Then Bischofswerder leaned back in his comfortable armchair with
+infinite ease, whilst his friend occupied himself with the most
+pious zeal with the pheasant, rejoicing at this revelation of the
+Invisibles. Bischofswerder let him enjoy it, and ordered the footman
+to serve the dessert and withdraw.
+
+"Now I am prepared to reply to you, my dear friend, that we are
+alone. I believe the king would have sent us to Spandau at once if
+we had opposed his free-thinking opinions."
+
+"I am convinced of it," sighed Woellner, eyeing the remains of the
+bird with a melancholy glance. "We shall have much to endure for the
+holy cause which we serve."
+
+"That is to say, we will have much to suffer if we, in fanatical
+indiscretion, do not submit to circumstances," said Bischofswerder.
+
+"You cannot traduce the sublime Fathers!" cried Woellner;--"for the
+body's security, we cannot endanger the salvation of our souls, and,
+like Peter, deny our master."
+
+"No, my much-loved and noble friend. But we must be wise as
+serpents, and our duty to the holy order is to preserve its useful
+tools that they may not be lost. You will agree with me in this?"
+
+"Indeed, I do admit it," replied Wollner, pathetically.
+
+"Further, you will acknowledge that we are very useful, and I might
+say indispensable tools of the Sublime Order of the Rosicrucians and
+the Invisible Fathers of the Order of Jesus? It is our task to
+secure an abiding-place to the proscribed and, cursed, to plough and
+sow the field, which will yield good fruit for humanity entire, and
+particularly our order, when the crown prince ascends the throne. We
+will here erect a kingdom of the future, and it is all-important to
+lay so secure a corner-stone in the heart of his highness that
+nothing can shake or dislodge it. Who could perfect this work if we
+were not here? Who would dare to undertake the difficult task if we
+should fail? Who would carry on a secret and continued warfare with
+this artful and powerful seductress if we were conquered?"
+
+"No one would do it," sighed Woellner, "no one would sacrifice
+themselves like Samson for this Delilah."
+
+"We will together be the Samson," replied Bischofswerder, drawing a
+glass of sparkling champagne. "We will be the Samson which the
+Philistines drove out, but this woman shall not practise the arts of
+Delilah upon us in putting our eyes out or cutting off our hair.
+Against two Samsons the most artful and beautiful Delilah is not
+wary enough; and if we cannot conquer her, we must resort to other
+means."
+
+"What may they be, dear brother?"
+
+"We must compromise the matter."
+
+Woellner sprang up, and a flush of anger or from champagne
+overspread his face "Compromise with the sinful creature!" he cried,
+impetuously. "Make peace with the seductress, who leads the prince
+from the path of virtue!"
+
+"Yes, we must be on friendly terms with this woman, who could
+greatly injure us as an enemy, and aid us infinitely as a friend.
+This is my intention, and I am the more convinced that we must
+accept this middle course, as she is protected by the king."
+
+"Because he knows from his spies that she mingles with the
+Illuminati and the Freemasons, and that she is our opponent," said
+Woellner.
+
+"The more the reason, my noble zealot, to win her friendship, who
+will have validity and power until the crown prince reigns, and this
+old godless freethinker of a king is in his gravel Then Prussia will
+commence a new era, and we shall be lords, and guide the machine of
+state. For such lofty aims one ought to be ready to compromise with
+his Satanic majesty even. Then why not with this little she-devil,
+whose power is fading every year with her youth and beauty?"
+
+"It is quite true, we should be mindful of the device of our
+Invisible Fathers. The end sanctifies the means," sighed Woellner.
+
+"I believe it to be indispensable, and you will grant that I am
+right. Do you not see that the prince has availed himself of our
+absence to go there, and has not yet returned?"
+
+"What!" shrieked Woellner, clasping his hands--" you do not mean
+that--"
+
+"That Rinaldo has returned to the enchanted garden of Armida."
+
+"Oh, let us hasten to release him at once, and revue his soul from
+perdition!" cried Woellner, springing up.
+
+"On the contrary, let us await him here without a word of reproach
+upon his return. This will touch his tender heart which we must work
+upon, if we would get him into our power, for to us he must belong.
+Fill our glasses with the sparkling wine, and drink to the contract
+with Wilhelmine Enke."
+
+Just as merrily they quaffed the champagne in the little cosy
+dining-room at Charlottenburg, where the prince and Wilhelmine were
+rejoicing over a reconciliation, no one being present but the two
+children. Their joyous laugh and innocent jests delighted the
+father, and the beaming eyes, sweet smile, and witty conversation of
+his favorite, filled his heart with pleasure.
+
+Not a word of reproach escaped her, but exultant and joyous she
+hastened with outstretched arms to meet him, kissing away all his
+attempts to implore pardon, and thanking him that he had returned to
+her.
+
+At first the prince gave himself up to the joy of the reunion with
+his beloved Wilhelmine sad children; but now, as the first outburst
+had passed, the quiet, happy dinner being finished, and they had
+returned to the sitting-room, a tinge of melancholy earnestness
+overshadowed his amiable face.
+
+Wilhelmine threw her arms gently around his neck as she sat beside
+him upon the divan, and looked up to him with a tender questioning
+glance. "Your thoughts are veiled, dearest; will you not confide to
+me that which lies concealed there?"
+
+"Ah, Wilhelmine, it is a mourning veil, and hides the sorrow of
+renunciation."
+
+"I do not understand you, Frederick," she smilingly replied. "Who
+could compel you to an abnegation which would cause you grief?"
+
+"Listen to me, Wilhelmine, and understand that I am suffering from
+circumstances--an oath taken in the pressure of the moment. Try to
+comprehend me, my dear child."
+
+Drawing her closer to him, he faithfully related to her the night of
+the communion of the spirits, and his consequent oath.
+
+"Is that all, my dear?" she replied, smiling, as he finished.
+
+"What do you mean?" he asked, astonished.
+
+"Nothing more than I would know if you have only sworn to renounce
+Wilhelmine Enke!"
+
+"What could I have done more prejudicial to you?" he cried, not a
+little irritated.
+
+"Surely you could not injure or grieve me more, and therefore I am
+not a little surprised that the pious Fathers could so carelessly
+word their oaths. You have sworn to renounce your affection to and
+separate from Wilhelmine Enke; so it follows that the Invisibles
+only demand that you give up my name, not myself, and that is easily
+changed, and my dear prince will not become a perjurer."
+
+"I do not quite understand you; but I perceive by the arch
+expression of your face that you have conceived a lucky escape for
+your unhappy Frederick William. Explain to me, dearest, your
+meaning."
+
+"I must change my name by marrying some one!" she whispered.
+
+"Marry! and I give you to another? I will never consent to that," he
+cried, alarmed.
+
+"Not to a husband, only a name," said she. "These Rosicrucians are
+such extraordinarily virtuous and pure beings, loving you so
+infinitely and disinterestedly, that it grieves them that my love
+for you does not shun the light, and throw over itself the mantle of
+hypocritical virtue! We will yield to the zealous purity of the
+Rosicrucians," continued Wilhelmine, her eyes sparkling, "and wrap
+this Wilhelmine Enke in a mantle of virtue by giving her a husband;
+and then, when she walks out with her children the passers-by will
+not have to blush with shame, and cry, 'There goes the miss with her
+children!' I have conceived and planned during this long and painful
+separation, and I am resolved to submit humbly to the pious Fathers,
+who are so zealously watchful for the salvation of your soul and my
+good fame."
+
+"That is to say, you are determined to snap your fingers at them!
+Your plan is a good one, but you will find no one to aid you in a
+sham marriage!"
+
+"I have already found one," whispered Wilhelmine, smiling. "Your
+valet de chambre Rietz is willing to stand with me in a sham
+marriage."
+
+"My body-servant!"
+
+"Yes, Frederick William! You will confess that I am not ambitious,
+and only consent to it to secure our happiness from the persecution
+of these virtuous men. Here is the contract," said she, drawing from
+her dress-pocket a paper, which she unfolded. "He promises to give
+me his name, and regard me as a stranger always, for the sum of four
+hundred thalers annually, with the promise of promotion to
+confidential servant when the noble crown prince shall ascend the
+throne. [Footnote: Historical.--See F Forster, "Latest Prussian
+History," vol. 1., p. 74] Will you sign it?"
+
+"I will do any thing that will grant me your affection, in spite of
+my unhappy oath. Give me the paper. I will sign it. When is the
+wedding?"
+
+"The moment that you, my dear lord and master, have inscribed your
+name," said Wilhelmine, handing him the pen, and pointing to the
+paper.
+
+The prince wrote the desired signature, quickly throwing the pen
+across the room, shouting, "Long live Wilhelmine Rietz, who has
+rescued me from perjury and sin! Come to my arms, outstretched to
+press to my heart the most beautiful, most intelligent, and most
+diplomatic of women!"
+
+Two days later it was related in Berlin that Wilhelmine Enke had
+married the princely valet de chambre Rietz, the crown prince being
+present at the ceremony, which took place at a small village near
+Potsdam.
+
+Under the head of marriages, the Berlin newspapers announced
+"Wilhelmine Enke to Carl Rietz."
+
+"Ah, my Rosicrucians," cried Wilhelmine, laughingly, as she read
+this notice, a mischievous triumph sparkling in her eyes; "ah, my
+heroes in virtue, for once you are outwitted, and I am victorious! I
+would like to witness their surprise. How they will laugh and swear
+over it! The favorite of a prince married to a valet de chambre!
+Wait until the prince becomes a king, then Wilhelmine Rietz will
+develop into a beautiful butterfly, and the wife of the valet de
+chambre will become a countess--nay, a princess. The Great Kophta
+has promised it, and he shall keep his word. I wear his ring, which
+sparkles and glistens, although the jeweller declares the diamond
+has been exchanged for a false stone. No matter, if it only shines
+like the real one. Every thing earthly is deception, falsehood, and
+glitter. Every one is storming and pressing on in savage eagerness
+toward fortune, honor, and fame! I will have my part in it. The
+storm and pressure of the world rage in my own heart. The fire of
+ambition is lighted in my soul, and the insatiable thirst for
+fortune consumes me. Blaze and burn until the day that Frederick
+William ascends the throne; then the low-born daughter of the
+trumpeter will become the high-born countess. The false stone will
+change to the sparkling diamond and Cagliostro shall then serve me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+REVENGE FULFILLED.
+
+
+Since the soiree at the house of the rich banker, Ebenstreit, an
+entire winter had passed in pleasures and fetes. The position of
+Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen had been recognized in aristocratic
+society, thanks to his dinners, soirees, balls, fetes, and
+particularly to his lovely, spirited, and proud wife. Herr
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen had reached the acme of his ambition; his
+house was the resort of the most distinguished society; the
+extravagance and superb arrangements of his dinners and fetes were
+the theme of every tongue. This excessive admiration flattered the
+vain, ambitious parvenu extremely, and it was the happiest day of
+his life when Prince Henry of Prussia, brother of Frederick the
+Great, did him the unspeakable honor to dine with him. This
+gratifying day he owed to his wife, and, as he said, it ought to be
+kept as the greatest triumph of money over prejudice and etiquette--
+the day upon which a royal prince recognized the rich and newly-
+created noble as his equal. Ebenstreit's entrance into the highest
+circle of aristocracy was due to the management and tone of the
+world of his wife, who understood the elegancies of life, passing as
+an example and ideal of an elegant woman, of which her husband was
+very proud. He lauded his original and crafty idea of devoting his
+money to such a satisfactory purchase as a sensible and ladylike
+wife, although the union was not a happy one, and, in the proper
+acceptation of the word, no marriage at all.
+
+Whilst all were entertained at the fetes, and envied the splendor
+and wealth of Baron von Ebenstreit, there were many sinister remarks
+as to the possibility of sustaining this expenditure upon such a
+grand scale. It was whispered about that the banking-house,
+conducted under another name, had lost in extensive speculations,
+and that the baron lived upon his principal instead of his interest.
+The business community declared that the firm entered into the most
+daring and senseless undertakings, and that it must go to ruin. The
+old book-keeper, Splittgerber, who had for many years conducted the
+business, had been pensioned by the baron, and commenced for
+himself. His successor had once ventured to warn the nobleman, and
+represent to him the danger which threatened him, for which he was
+immediately dismissed, and the fact communicated to the entire
+house, at a special assemblage of the clerks for the purpose, with
+the warning of a like fate for every subordinate who should presume
+to criticise the acts of the principals, or proffer advice to them.
+Since this no one had ventured to repeat the offence, but every
+member of the house occupied himself in drawing a profit from the
+general and daily increasing confusion, and save something from the
+wreck which would inevitably ensue. The baron, with pretentious
+unconcern, dazzled by his unusual honors, permitted his business
+affairs to take their course with smiling unconcern, and when
+unsuccessful, to hide the mistakes of the banker under the pomp of
+the baron.
+
+Marie, indulging in the style of a great lady, appeared not to
+notice or trouble herself at all about these things. She entertained
+most luxuriantly, and spent enormous sums upon her toilet, changed
+the costly livery of her numerous retinue of servants every month,
+as well as the furniture of the drawing-rooms; and presented with
+generous liberality her superfluous ornaments, dresses, and
+furniture to her dear high-born friends, who greedily accepted them,
+and were overflowing in their tender protestations and gratitude,
+whilst they in secret revolted at the presumption of the arrogant
+woman, who permitted herself to send them her cast-off things.
+
+They rejoiced to receive them, however, and reappeared in her
+splendid drawing-rooms, enduring the pride and neglect of the
+baroness, and calling her their dear friend, whom they in secret
+envied and hated.
+
+Did Marie know this, or did she let herself be deceived by these
+friendly protestations? Occasionally, when her friends embraced and
+kissed her, a languid smile flitted over her haughty face; and once
+as she wandered through the suite of rooms, awaiting her guests, she
+caught the reflection of a beautiful woman in the costly Venetian
+mirrors, sparkling with diamonds and wearing a silver-embroidered
+dress with a train. She gazed at this woman with an expression of
+ineffable scorn, and whispered to her: "Suffer yet awhile, you shall
+soon be released. This miserable trash will disappear. Only be firm-
+-I hear already the cracking of the house which will soon fall a
+wreck at your feet!"
+
+Others heard it also. As preparations were being made for a grand
+dinner, with which the Baron and Baroness von Ebenstreit would close
+the season, the former head bookkeeper of the baron appeared at the
+palace, demanding, with anxious mien, to see the principal.
+
+Just at the moment the baron and his wife were in the large
+reception-room, which the decorator was splendidly arranging, under
+the direction of the baroness, with flowers, festoons, columns, and
+statues. Ebenstreit was watching admiringly the tasteful and costly
+display as the footman announced the former book-keeper and present
+banker, Splittgerber.
+
+"He must come at another time," cried Ebenstreit, impatiently, "I am
+busy now; I--"
+
+"Excuse me, baron," replied an earnest, gentle voice behind him,
+"that I have followed the lackey and entered unbidden. I come on
+urgent business, and I must indeed speak with you instantly!"
+
+"Be brief then, at least," cried Ebenstreit, peevishly. "You see
+that my wife is here, and we are very busy arranging for a grand
+dinner to-day."
+
+Herr Splittgerber, instead of replying, cast a peculiarly sad,
+searching glance through the beautifully-adorned room, and at the
+two lackeys, who stood on each side of the wide folding-doors.
+
+"Permit that these servants withdraw, and order them to close the
+doors," said the book-keeper, almost commandingly. Ebenstreit,
+overruled by the solemn earnestness, obeyed against his will.
+
+"Would you like me to leave also, sir?" said Marie, with a calm,
+haughty manner. "You have only to ask it and the baron will,
+undoubtedly, accord your request."
+
+"On the contrary, I beg you to remain," quietly replied
+Splittgerber, "for what I have to say concerns you and your husband
+equally."
+
+"Now, then, I beg you to say it quickly," cried Ebenstreit,
+impatiently; "I repeat, that we are very busy with preparing for to-
+day's festival."
+
+"You will not give any fete to-day," said Splittgerber, solemnly.
+
+Ebenstreit, cringing and frightened, gazed at the old man who looked
+sadly at him.
+
+The baroness laughed aloud, sneeringly. "My dear sir, your tone and
+manner remind me of the wicked spirit at the horrible moment in the
+story when be comes to demand the bartered soul, and the enchanted
+castle falls a wreck!"
+
+"Your comparison is an apt one, baroness," sighed the old man.--"I
+came to you, baron, because I loved your father. I have served your
+house thirty years, and amassed the little I had to commence
+business with in your service. Moreover, when you so suddenly
+dismissed me, you not only gave me my salary as a pension, but you
+funded the annuity with a considerable sum, which makes me, through
+your house, independent in means."
+
+"You may thank my wife for that. She demanded, when I dismissed you,
+that I should compensate you with the liberality of a true
+nobleman."
+
+"Oh, would that you had not done it, baroness!" cried Splittgerber--
+"would that you had permitted the old faithful pioneer in the
+business to remain by your husband! He might have warded off this
+misfortune and saved you by his experience and advice."
+
+"For this very reason I demanded your removal. You permitted
+yourself to proffer advice which I felt did not become you," replied
+Marie, with a strange smile of triumph.
+
+"And, I repeat, would that you had not done it!" sighed the old man.
+"I came to warn you, to conjure you, to save yourselves--to flee
+while there is yet time."
+
+"Oh, mercy! what has happened?" cried Ebenstreit, terrified.
+
+"The banking-house of Ebenstreit, founded under the name of Ludwig,
+associated with Ehlert of Amsterdam, four months since, to buy and
+load ships for the Calcutta market. Herr Ebenstreit gathered
+together the last wrecks of his fortune remaining from his ruinous
+speculations, to win enormously in this investment. Besides, he
+indorsed the notes of the Amsterdam house for the sum of eighty
+thousand dollars, which has been drawn, so that their notes are
+protested there. Herr Ebenstreit will have to pay this sum!"
+
+"What else?" asked Ebenstreit, almost breathless.
+
+"The house of Ehlert, in Amsterdam, has failed; the principal has
+fled with the coffers; the notes for eighty thousand dollars were
+protested, and you, baron, must pay this sum to-day, or declare
+yourself a bankrupt, and go to prison for debt."
+
+Instantaneously a suppressed cry and a laugh were heard. Ebenstreit
+sank upon a seat, concealing his pallid face with his hands, while
+Marie stood at his side, her face beaming with joy.
+
+"I am lost, I do not possess the eighth part of that sum! I cannot
+pay it. I must submit, for there are no further means to prevent
+it."
+
+"No," replied Marie, with haughty tranquillity, "you have no further
+means to prevent it. The rich banker Ebenstreit will leave this
+house, no longer his own, to enter the debtor's prison poor as a
+beggar--nay, worse, a defrauder!"
+
+"Oh, how cruel you are!" groaned Ebenstreit.
+
+"Did you say, baroness, that this house is no longer his?" asked
+Splittgerber, alarmed.
+
+"No," she triumphantly cried. "It belongs to me, and all that is in
+it--the pictures, statues, silver, diamonds, and pearls. Oh, I am
+still a rich woman!"
+
+"And do you mean to retain this wealth if your husband becomes
+bankrupt? Do you not possess a common interest?" asked Splittgerber.
+
+"No, thank Heaven, the community of interest was given up a year
+since," cried Ebenstreit, joyfully. "Baroness von Ebenstreit is the
+lawful possessor of this house and furniture. I was not so
+indiscreet as you supposed. I have at least secured this to my wife,
+and she will be a rich woman even if I fail, and will not let me
+starve. I shall divide about ten per cent with my creditors, but my
+wife will be rich enough for us both."
+
+"This gives me to understand that you intend to make a fraudulent
+bankruptcy. You have settled every thing upon your wife to save
+yourself from the unhappy consequences of your failure. You will
+still be a rich man if your wife should sell her house, works of
+art, diamonds, gold and silver service, and equipages."
+
+"Yes, indeed, a very rich man," said Marie. "In the last few weeks I
+have had my property estimated, and it would at least bring three
+hundred thousand dollars."
+
+"If the baron only possessed this, he could pay his creditors, and
+have a small amount over, sufficient to live upon economically and
+genteelly. But you would rather enjoy splendor, and are not
+particular about living honorably. You will undoubtedly sell your
+property, and go to Paris, to revel in luxury and pleasure, while
+your defrauded creditors may, through you come to poverty and want.-
+-Baron, I now see that your wife did well to bring about my removal.
+I should have, above all things, given you the unwelcome advice to
+sustain your honor unblemished, and dispose of your costly
+surroundings for the benefit of your creditors, that when you die it
+may be with a clear conscience. You prefer a life of luxury and
+ease, rocking your conscience to sleep until God will rouse it to a
+fearful awaking. But do as you like. I came here to offer you
+assistance, thinking that you would dispose of this property, and
+after paying your creditors have sufficient to live upon. Then I
+could be permitted to prove my fidelity to you. I now see that I was
+a fool. Yet in parting I will still beg of you to avoid the
+unfavorable impression of this dinner. The bill of exchange will be
+presented at four o'clock, and the bearer will not be satisfied with
+the excuse of your non-payment on account of dinner-company. You
+will be obliged to settle at once or be arrested. I have learned
+this from your chief creditor, and I begged him to have forbearance
+for you. I shall now justify him in showing you none, as you do not
+deserve it!--Farewell!"
+
+The old book-keeper turned with a slight nod, and strode away
+through the drawing-room.
+
+"Have you nothing to say to him? Will you let him go thus?" asked
+Marie, impetuously.
+
+"Nothing at all. What should I say?" he replied, shrugging his
+shoulders.
+
+"Then I will speak with him." Marie called loudly after
+Splittgerber, saying, "I have a word to speak to you."
+
+The book-keeper remained standing near the door, and turning with
+downcast face, demanded of Marie what she wished.
+
+"I have something to tell you," she replied, with her usual
+tranquil, proud demeanor, approaching Splittgerber, who regarded her
+with severity and contempt, which she met with a gentle, friendly
+expression, a sweet smile hovering on her lips.
+
+Marie came close up to the old man, who awaited her with haughty
+defiance, and never advanced one step to meet her--a lady splendidly
+bedecked with diamonds and gold-embroidered satin. She whispered a
+few words in his ear. He started, and, astonished, looked into her
+face, as if questioning what he heard. She nodded, smiling, and bent
+again to say a few words.
+
+Suddenly Splittgerber seemed metamorphosed. His gloomy face
+brightened a little, and his insolent glance was changed to one of
+deep emotion, Bowing profoundly as he held the baroness's proffered
+hand to take leave, he pressed it most respectfully to his lips.
+
+"You will return in an hour?" Marie asked.
+
+"Yes; I shall seek the gentlemen, and bring them with me," he
+graciously replied.
+
+"Thanks; I will then await you."
+
+Splittgerber departed, and Marie returned to Ebenstreit who, amazed,
+muttered some unintelligible words, having listened to her
+mysterious conversation with the old book-keeper.
+
+"Now to you, sir!" said she, her whole tone and manner changing to
+harsh command; "the hour for settling our accounts has arrived--the
+hour that I have awaited, purchasing it by four years of torture,
+self-contempt, and despair. This comedy is at an end. I will buy of
+you my freedom. Do you hear me? I will cast off these galley-chains.
+I will be free!"
+
+"Oh, Marie!" he cried, retreating in terror, "with what fearful
+detestation you regard me!"
+
+"Do you wonder at it? Have I ever concealed this hate from you, or
+ever given you hope to believe that a reconciliation would be
+possible between us?"
+
+"No, truly you have not, but now you will forgive me, for you know
+how I love you, and have provided for your future. You will remain
+rich, and I shall be poor."
+
+Marie regarded him with unspeakable contempt. "You are more
+despicable than I thought you were. You do not deserve forbearance
+or pity, for you are a dishonorable bankrupt, who cares not how much
+others may suffer, provided his future is secured. I will not,
+however, suffer the name which I have borne against my will, to be
+defamed and become a mark for scorn. I will compel you to remain an
+honest man, and be just to your creditors. I propose to pay the
+bills of exchange, which will be presented to you to-day, provided
+you will consent to my conditions."
+
+"Oh, Marie, you are an angel!" he cried, rushing toward her and
+kneeling at her feet, "I will do all that you wish, and consent to
+every thing you propose."
+
+"Will you swear it?" she coldly replied.
+
+"I swear that I accept your conditions."
+
+"Bring the writing-materials from the window-niche, and seat
+yourself by this table."
+
+Ebenstreit brought them, and seated himself by the Florentine mosaic
+table, near which Marie was standing.
+
+She drew from her pocket a paper, which she unfolded and placed
+before him to sign. "Sign this with your full name, and add, 'With
+my own free will and consent,'" she commandingly ordered him.
+
+"But you will first make known to me the contents?"
+
+"You have sworn to sign it," she said, "and unless you accept my
+conditions, you are welcome to be incarcerated for life in the
+debtor's prison. You have only to choose. If you decide in the
+negative, I will exert myself that your creditors do not free you. I
+should trust in the justice of God having sent you there, and that
+man in miserable pity should not act against His will in freeing
+you. Now decide; will you sign the paper, or go to prison as a
+dishonorable bankrupt?"
+
+He hastily seized the pen and wrote his name, handing the paper to
+Marie, sighing.
+
+"You have forgotten to add the clause, 'With my own free will and
+consent,'" she replied, hastily glancing at it, letting the paper
+drop like a wilted leaf, and her eyes flashing with scorn.
+
+Ebenstreit saw it, and as he again handed her the paper, he
+exclaimed, "I read in your eyes the intense hate you bear me."
+
+"Yes," she replied, composedly, "not only hate, but scorn. Hush! no
+response. You knew it long before I was forced to stand at the altar
+with you. I warned you not to unite yourself to me, and you had the
+impious audacity to defy me with your riches. The seed of hate which
+you then sowed, you may to-day reap the fruits of. You shall
+recognize now that money is miserable trash, and that when deprived
+of it you will never win sympathy from your so-called friends, but
+they will turn from you with contempt, when you crave their pity or
+aid."
+
+"I think that you exaggerate, dearest," said Ebenstreit, fawningly.
+"You have many devoted friends among the ladies, and I can well say
+that I have found, among the distinguished gentlemen who visit our
+house, many noble, excellent ones who have met me with a warmth of
+friendship--"
+
+"Because they would borrow money of the rich man," interrupted
+Marie.
+
+"Of course my coffers have always been accessible to my dear
+friends, and I prized the honor of proving my friendship by my
+deeds."
+
+"You will realize to-day how they prove their gratitude to you for
+it. Go, receive the good friends whom you have invited. It is time
+that they were here, and I perceive the carriages are approaching,"
+
+Marie motioned to the door, with a dictatorial wave of her hand, and
+Ebenstreit betook himself to the reception-room. Just as he crossed
+the threshold, the usher announced "Herr Gedicke! Ebenstreit greeted
+him hastily in passing, and the old man went on to meet the
+baroness, who was hastening toward him.
+
+"You have most graciously invited me to your house to-day, and you
+will excuse me that my earnest wish to see you has brought me
+earlier than any other guest."
+
+"I begged you to come a quarter of an hour sooner, for I would
+gladly speak with you alone a few moments,"
+
+"I thought so, and hastened up here."
+
+"Did not my old Trude go to see you some days since?" asked Marie,
+timidly.
+
+"She did, and you can well understand that I was much affected and
+surprised at her visit. I thought that you had forgotten me,
+baroness, and that every souvenir of the past had fled from your
+memory. I now see that your noble, faithful heart can never forget,
+and therefore has never ceased to suffer, which I ought to regret,
+for your sake, but for my own it pleased me to receive your kind
+greeting."
+
+Marie pressed her hand to her eyes and sighed audibly. "Pray do not
+speak so gently to me--it enervates me, and I would force myself to
+endure to-day. Only tell me, did Trude communicate to you my wishes,
+and will it be possible for you to fulfil them?"
+
+"Your brave, good friend brought me a thousand dollars, praying me
+to convey this to Herr Moritz in order to defray the expenses of a
+journey to Italy."
+
+"Have you accomplished it, and in such a manner that he does not
+suspect the source from whence it came? He would not receive it if
+he had the least suspicion of it. I have seen him secretly several
+times as he passed to and fro from the Gymnasium, and he appeared to
+me to grow paler and more languid every day."
+
+"It is true that since you have come back he has changed. The old
+melancholy seems to have returned."
+
+"He needs distraction; he must go away and forget me. It has always
+been his earnest wish to travel in Italy. You must tell him that you
+have succeeded in getting the money for him."
+
+"I bethought myself of Moritz's publisher, represented to him how
+necessary it was for the health of Professor Moritz to travel,
+begged of him to order a work upon Italy, and particularly the works
+of art of Rome, and propose to Moritz the acceptance of the money
+for that object, as he was quite too proud to receive it as a
+present."
+
+"That was an excellent idea," cried Marie. "Has it been
+accomplished?"
+
+"Yes, as Herr Maurer made the proposal, and Moritz replied, sighing,
+that he had not the means for such a journey, the publisher
+immediately offered him half of the remuneration in advance;
+consequently he starts to-morrow for Italy, unknowing of the
+thousand dollars being your gift." [Footnote: This work, which was
+published after his return, still excites the highest interest, and
+is entitled "Travels of a German in Italy during 1786 and 1787.--
+Letters of Philip Carl Moritz," 8 vols., Berlin, published by
+Frederick Maurer.]
+
+"How much I thank you!" she joyfully cried. "Moritz is saved; he
+will now recover, and forget all his grief in studying the objects
+of interest in the Eternal City."
+
+"Do you really believe that?" asked Herr Gedicke. "Were you not also
+in Italy?"
+
+"I was indeed there two years, but it was very different with me. It
+is difficult to forget you are a slave, when listening all the while
+to the clanking of your chains."
+
+"My poor child, I read with sorrow the history of the past years in
+your grief-stricken face. It is the first time we have met since
+your marriage."
+
+"See what these years have made of me!--a miserable wife, whom the
+world esteems, but who recoils from herself. My heart has changed to
+stone, and I feel metamorphosed. The sight of you recalls that
+fearful hour, melting my heart and causing the tears to flow. At
+that time you blessed me, my friend and father. Oh, grant me your
+blessing again in this hour of sorrow! I implore you for it, before
+an important decision! I long for the sympathy of a noble soul!"
+
+"I know not, my child, with what grief this hour may be laden for
+you; but I lay my hand again upon your head, imploring God in His
+divine mercy to sustain you!"
+
+"Countess von Moltke and Frau von Morien!" announced the usher. In
+brilliant toilets the ladies rustled in, hastening toward the
+baroness, who had now regained her wonted composure, and received
+them in her usual stately manner.
+
+"How perfectly charming you look to-night!" cried Countess Moltke.
+"To me you are ever the impersonation of the goddess of wealth and
+beauty strewing everywhere with lavish generosity your gifts, and
+turning every thing to gold with your touch."
+
+"But whose heart has remained tender and gentle," added Frau von
+Morien.--"You are indeed a goddess, always enhancing the pleasures
+of others. To-day I wear the beautiful bracelet which you sent me
+because I admired it."
+
+"And I, ma toute belle," cried the countess, "have adorned myself
+with this superb gold brocade which you so kindly had sent from
+Paris for me."
+
+"You have forgotten, countess, that you begged of me to give the
+order for you."
+
+"Ah, that is true! Then I am your debtor."
+
+"If you are not too proud to receive it as a present?"
+
+"Oh, most certainly not; on the contrary, I thank you, my dear.--
+Tell me, my dear Morien, is not this woman an angel?"
+
+At this instant the French ambassador, Marquis Treves, appeared
+among the numerous guests, whom the baroness stepped quickly forward
+to welcome, withdrawing with him into the window-niche.
+
+"Welcome, marquis," she said, quickly, in a low voice, "Have you
+brought me the promised papers?"
+
+Drawing a sealed packet from his coat-pocket, he handed it to the
+baroness with a low bow, saying: "I would draw your attention to the
+fact once more, dear madam, that I have abided by the price named by
+yourself, in making this sale, although I am still of the opinion
+that it is below its value."
+
+"The sum is sufficient for my wants, and I rated its value according
+as it is taxed."
+
+"There are a hundred thousand dollars in bills of exchange, payable
+at the French embassy at any moment," said the marquis.
+
+"I thank you, sir, for this proof of friendly attention; and as it
+may be the last time we meet, I would assure you that I shall always
+remember your many and thoughtful kindnesses."
+
+"You speak, baroness, as if you would forsake the circle of which
+you are the brightest ornament."
+
+"No, the friends will forsake me," she replied, with a peculiar
+smile. "Ere an hour shall pass not one of all these numerous guests
+will remain here.--Ah, there comes the decision! See there,
+marquis!"
+
+The usher announced "Banker Splittgerber." The old man entered
+followed by two men of not very presentable appearance, and whose
+toilet was but little in keeping with the brilliantly-decorated room
+and the aristocratic guests.
+
+Never heeding the sneers nor contemptuous smiles, the faithful book-
+keeper wound his way, through the crowd of elegantly dressed ladies
+and gentlemen, accompanied by the two men, up to Ebenstreit, who,
+with instinctive politeness, had placed himself near Marie.
+
+"Gentlemen," said Splittgerber, in a loud voice, "this is Baron
+Ebenstreit von Leuthen, principal of the banking-house Ludwig."
+
+The two gentlemen approached, one of them saying, "They sent us here
+from your office."
+
+"This is not the place for business," replied Ebenstreit. "Follow
+me!"
+
+"No, gentlemen, remain here," cried Marie. "Our guests present are
+such intimate, devoted friends that we have nothing to conceal from
+them; but on the contrary, I am convinced they will only be too
+happy of the occasion to prove their friendship, of which they have
+so often assured us.--These gentlemen demand the payment of a bill
+of exchange for eighty thousand dollars. Take my portfolio,
+Ebenstreit; there is a pencil in it. Go around and make a
+collection; undoubtedly the entire sum will be soon noted down."
+
+Ebenstreit approached the Baron von Frankenstein, saying: "Pardon me
+if I recall to your memory the sum of one thousand louis d'ors, due
+for four black horses three months since."
+
+"My dear sir," cried the baron, "this is a strange manner to collect
+one's debts. We were invited to a feast, and a pistol is pointed at
+us, demanding our debts to be cancelled!"
+
+"How strange! How ridiculous!" heard one here and there among the
+guests, as they, with one accord, pressed toward the door to make
+their exit, which they found fastened.
+
+"Remain," cried Marie, with stately dignity. "I wish you honored
+guests to be witness of this scene in the hour of justification, as
+you were also present at the one when one of the noblest and best of
+men cursed me.--Banker Splittgerber, take these bills of exchange
+for one hundred thousand dollars. Pay these gentlemen, and devote
+the remainder to the other debts as far as it will go."
+
+As the three men withdrew by a side-drier, Marie exclaimed: "I will
+now explain to you that Baron von Leuthen is ruined--poor as a
+beggar when he will not work."
+
+"Marie," cried Ebenstreit, terrified, rushing toward her, and
+seizing her by the arm. "Marie--"
+
+She threw off his hand from her in anger. "Do not touch me, sir, and
+do not presume either to address me with any endearments. You have
+yourself said that our marriage was not a veritable one, but was
+like the union of associates in business, and now I would inform you
+it is dissolved: the one is a bankrupt; the other a woman whom you
+cursed, and who reclaims of you four years of shame and degradation.
+You wonder at my speaking thus, but you do not know this man, my
+friends."
+
+As she spoke, a door opened at the farther end of the room, and
+Trude entered in her simple dress, followed by Philip Moritz.
+Unobserved the two glided behind the charming grotto which had been
+arranged with flowers and wreaths in one of the niches. Every eye
+was turned upon the pale, stately beauty, erect in the centre of the
+room.
+
+"Stay here, for no one can see us," whispered Trude. "I could not
+bear to have you leave Berlin without hearing the justification of
+my dear Marie, and may God pardon me for letting you come here
+unbeknown to her! Listen, and pray to Him to forgive you the great
+injustice that you have done her. Be quiet, that no one may see you,
+and Marie be angry with her old Trude."
+
+"Yes," continued Marie, with chilling contempt, "you should know
+this man before whom you have all bowed, pressed the hand, and
+called your friend, because he was rich, and, thanks to his wealth
+alone, became a titled man--a baron, buying the hand of a poor but
+noble maiden, whom he knew despised him, and passionately loved
+another, having sworn eternal constancy to him. I am that young
+girl. I begged, nay implored him, not to pursue me, but he was void
+of pity, mocked my tears, and said he could buy my love, and my
+heart would at last be touched by the influence of his wealth. I
+should have preferred to die, but Fate ordered that the one I loved,
+by my fault, should by imprisonment atone our brief dream of bliss.
+I could only save him by accepting this man; these were the
+conditions. I became his wife before the world, and took my oath in
+his presence to revenge myself, and after four years I shall
+accomplish it. I have spent his money, and of the rich man made a
+beggar. God be praised, I can now revenge myself in freeing myself!"
+
+"Free yourself? It is not true! You are my wife still," replied
+Ebenstreit, alarmed.
+
+A radiant smile flitted over Marie's face as she defied Ebenstreit
+with the law of the Great Frederick, who had decided that every
+unhappy couple without offspring could separate by their own free
+will and consent, having signed a paper to that effect.
+
+"Is that the paper which you have made me sign?" cried Ebenstreit,
+alarmed.
+
+"Yes, drawn up by my notary, and both of our names are signed to
+it."
+
+"It is a fraud!" cried Ebenstreit. "I will protest against it."
+
+"Do it, and you will find it a vain effort. I promised to pay your
+debt if you would put your name to the document then placed before
+you, which you did. Ask the Marquis Treves how I paid your debts: he
+will answer you that he has given me the money."
+
+"I had the honor to pay to the baroness one hundred thousand
+dollars, as she rightly informs you."
+
+"Yes," continued Marie, "the marquis is the present possessor of
+this house and all that it contains--furniture, statues, and
+pictures; also the equipages and silver. To my mother I sent my
+diamonds, costly laces, and dresses, to indemnify her for the
+annuity which Herr von Ebenstreit settled upon her as purchase-money
+which he cannot pay, now that he is ruined."
+
+"Marquis," cried Ebenstreit, pale with anger, "have you really
+bought this house and its contents?"
+
+"I have done so, and the one hundred thousand dollars the baroness
+has paid over to Herr Splittgerber."
+
+"Oh! I am ruined," groaned Ebenstreit--" I am lost!" and, covering
+his face with his hands, he rushed from the room.
+
+Marie gazed at him with a sad expression, saying: "Ladies and
+gentlemen, you now know to whom this house belongs. You can no
+longer say that I am the daughter whom the late General von Leuthen
+sold to a rich man. I am free!"
+
+At this moment a side-door opened, and Frau von Leuthen was heard
+saying to old Trude: "Let me in! it is in vain to hold me back. I
+will have an explanation from my daughter, and learn what all this
+means." As she pushed herself into the room, she exclaimed: "Ah, it
+is a fete day! There is the baroness in all her glory and splendor.
+She is not crazed, as I feared this morning, when she sent me all
+her ornaments and fine dresses and laces, with a note, sealed with
+black, inscribed upon it, 'Will Of the Baroness Ebenstreit von
+Leuthen.' I opened it, and read: 'I give to my mother my precious
+ornaments, laces, and dresses, to secure to her the pension which
+she has lost.--Marie. 'I came here to learn if my daughter were
+dead, and what the conclusion of this lost pension may be, and I
+find--"
+
+"You find the confirmation of all that I wrote to you," replied
+Marie, coldly. "Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen is ruined. I have
+secured to you, in the sum which my jewels and laces will bring you,
+the annuity, so that you have not lost the money promised you for
+your daughter, and the marriage you have arranged has at least borne
+good fruit to you."
+
+"You are a cruel, ungrateful child," cried the mother. "I have long
+known it, and rejected you from my heart, and from all shame I will
+yet protect the name you bear. I have just seen a sign in the
+Friedrich-strasse, 'Flower manufactory of Marie von Leuthen.' What
+does this mean? Terrified, I stared speechless at these fearful
+words, and at the busy workmen preparing the house."
+
+"I will explain it to you," cried Marie, with radiant mien. "I have
+again become the flower-maker, and beg your favor, Countess von
+Moltke, Frau von Morien, and all the other ladies. I am free, and no
+longer the wife of a hated husband--no longer the distinguished and
+wealthy woman. All delusion and mockery have vanished. The costly
+dress and jewels that I now wear I will cast of from me as the last
+souvenir of the past."
+
+Unclasping the diamond necklace and bracelets, she handed them to
+her mother, saying: "Take them, and also this dress, the last finery
+I possess." She unloosed the band, and the long white satin train
+fell at her feet. Emerging from it as from a silvery cloud, she
+stood before them in a simple white dress, as she was clothed in her
+girlhood. "Take them all," she joyfully cried. "Take them, mother,
+it is all past. I am now myself again. Farewell, witnesses of this
+scene! I now quit your circle; and you, my mother, I forgive you;
+may the thoughts of your unhappy child never trouble you, waking or
+sleeping; may you forget that your daughter lives, and is wretched.
+Revenge has not softened my grief, or removed your curse from my
+head!"
+
+"I will lift it off your brow, Marie!" cried Moritz, suddenly
+appearing from the window-niche, with beaming face and outstretched
+arms, approaching Marie, whom surprised and alarmed, retreated. "Oh,
+noble, courageous woman, forgive me that I have been an unbidden
+witness to this scene, though by this means I now clearly recognize
+your strength of mind, and elevation of soul, and the wrong that I
+have committed in doubting and cursing you during these four years
+of gloom and despair. I bow before you, Marie, and implore you, upon
+my knees, to forgive me all the cruel, harsh words that I have
+uttered--that I have dared as a wretched fool to doubt you in this
+long night of despair. The day is dawning again upon us; a new sun
+will yet cheer us with its rays. Do not turn from me, but look at
+me, and grant me forgiveness.--My dear friend and father, speak for
+me, for you know what I have suffered. Beg of her to forgive me."
+
+"Marie," said the venerable old man, approaching her, gently putting
+his arm around her, "God has willed that you, my poor, long-tried
+child, should pass through a season of extreme sorrow. You are now
+released, and all that belonged to you has vanished!"
+
+As he spoke, he signed to the guests to withdraw. Many had already
+escaped the painful scene by the side-door. Marie was now alone in
+the magnificent apartment, with Herr Gedicke and Moritz. She still
+stood, with concealed face, in the centre of the room.
+
+"Oh, Marie," implored Moritz, "hide not your dear face from me! Read
+in mine the deep grief of the past and the bliss of the future. I
+thank God that this unnatural union is severed, and that you are
+free. Be courageous to the end!" Moritz impetuously drew her hand
+away, revealing her tearful countenance, as her head sank. upon his
+shoulder. "Can you not forgive me, Marie?" he cried, with deep
+emotion. "We have both wandered through a waste of grief, and now
+approach life radiant with happiness. Oh, speak to me, Marie; can
+you not love me and forgive me?"
+
+She gazed into his eyes, and in their depths read that which
+gradually softened her hardened features, and caused a smile to play
+upon her lip. "I love you dearly, devotedly; let this be our parting
+word. Go forth into the world, Moritz; my affection will follow you
+whithersoever you wander, and my soul will be true to you through
+all eternity, though we are forever separated. The poor wife, with
+her dismal retrospections, must not cast a shadow upon your future.
+Go, my beloved--Italy awaits you, and art will console you!"
+
+"Follow me, dear Marie; only by your side am I happy. You are free
+and independent," cried Moritz.
+
+"Oh, father," cried Marie, leaning upon the venerable old man,
+"explain to him that I am still the wife of that hated man!"
+
+"She is right, Philip; do not urge her further. She must first be
+legally separated, and this weary heart must have time to recover
+its wonted calm. Go to Italy, and confide your future and happiness
+to my care. Marie has lost a mother, but she shall find a father in
+me. I will watch over her until your return."
+
+Just then the door opened, and Trude entered. "Every thing is ready;
+all the things which used to stand in the little garret-room are
+packed and sent to the manufactory. Shall we go, too, dear child?"
+
+"Yes," she cried, embracing the faithful old woman. "Farewell,
+Philip--Italy calls you!"
+
+"I will go, but when I return will you not be my wife?"
+
+Marie gazed at Moritz, radiant with happiness, saying: "The answer
+is engraven upon my heart. Return, and then I will joyfully respond
+to your love before God and man!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Etext of Old Fritz and the New Era, by Muhlbach
+
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